A/N: This is a short story set in the AU universe of Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth - my WIP. As in Legacy, knowledge or familiarity with Serpent's Tooth is not necessary. This fic can be read on its own terms, although it fits into the longer WIP. It could be considered as a missing scene.
I wrote this because I am always curious as to how other characters, those we don't hear too much about, react to and inter-act with canon characters, in this case - Darken Rahl and Kahlan. Every character has their own story and their own experiences.
Spoilers: Set in the Reckoning AU, Darken and Kahlan have a daughter instead of a son and that when this story takes place they have been married for ten years.
Jonathon Egremont had been laboring for hours over the poem, and still couldn't get the words right. The feelings were so powerful, but his expression of them was so – pathetic. Frustrated with the inability to express his pent up emotion, he crumpled the parchment in his fist.
No words could describe the intensity of his feelings.
No words could do justice to her breathtaking beauty.
Every day Jonathon worked, ate and drank among men for whom women were the constant subject of derision, boasting and complaint. He laughed and lied about his conquests with the best of them, while hiding the torment and ecstasy of being completely in love for the first time in his life.
He was certain nobody could ever understand what he was suffering. No man had ever loved any woman so much.
It didn't matter a jot that the object of this fervent devotion barely knew he was alive. But hopefully that would change. Tonight he would prove his love to her, not by word but by deed, asking nothing in return. Furtively he ran his hands over the tattered piece of cloth he had pushed up inside the sleeve of his uniform.
"What's the matter with you, boy? You're acting like a love-sick puppy!" his father's gruff voice interrupted Jonathon's reverie. Blushing furiously, the young man shoved the poem into the pocket of his tunic.
"Everything's fine, father. I'm just getting ready to go back on duty. I don't have much time to talk," Pushing himself back from the table, Jonathon stood up to return to the throne room.
If he were lucky, maybe his love would be there. Her presence beside her husband was a rare occurrence, but she had been there the day before. Sometimes their nine-year old daughter, Rachel, joined them. But she usually grew restless and bored very quickly, and was generally whisked out of the room by her attentive nurse when she started fidgeting too much.
Jonathon was grateful when Princess Rachel wasn't there. He didn't have sisters, and found little girls to be a nuisance. She also had an annoying habit of staring at him and asking him tedious little-girl questions. Her mother habitually paid no attention, while Lord Rahl just smiled at Rachel with paternal indulgence.
It didn't help that Jonathon's own father was so fond of the gangly little creature. The General's doting on the girl seemed to encourage her to act like she was part of his family.
Why wasn't her own family enough?
After all, she had the most wonderful mother in the world.
Absorbed in his own thoughts, Jonathon had lost track of his father's lecture.
General Egremont regarded his oldest son with a mixture of irritation, concern, affection and pride. The boy already showed great promise and ability. Only this morning, Lord Rahl had remarked on Jonathon's exemplary performance of his duties. His son had a great future ahead of him, if only he didn't derail it by his own foolishness.
Egremont might be Lord Darken Rahl's closest advisor, and his friend, but his son had to work up through the ranks of the Dragon Corp just like any other man. Still, at the young age of nineteen, it was a great honor to be posted to the People's Palace.
The General was not so old that he couldn't remember the agonies of first love. Like many military men, he had married and started a family late in life. But as a young man he had been desperately in love with the daughter of a minor noble. He thought he would die of unrequited passion. Now, he couldn't even recall the woman's name.
"Don't lie to me, son. Do you think I'm blind?" the older man groused, "Every time Queen Rahl comes within sight, you can't stop looking at her like a moon-struck calf."
"Watch yourself, boy, and hide your feelings for the woman, Lord Rahl is very impressed with you, but one wrong step and you could find yourself sent away in disgrace – or worse," the General continued, more seriously now, " Don't waste your time on that one. She won't thank you for it. The Confessor hates all D'Harans, including her husband. She could cause you great harm, and probably would, if she thought it would be to her benefit."
Jonathon nodded, pretending to agree. He didn't want to upset him, but knew his father was wrong.
If Queen Kahlan was sad, it was because she had a tragic life and her husband was a brute. True, Lord Rahl always treated her with grave courtesy in public, but that meant very little. Jonathon was certain that the man did terrible things to her in private. He didn't even want to think about it.
A few hours later, Jonathon lay on his hard cot, considering a plan of action. After making sure he was alone, he pulled out the ragged cloth he had carefully secreted that morning. He hadn't the chance to examine it before. It was made of fine linen, once white but now grey and fragile from wear. There were initials embroidered in the corner. They were hard to make out. The most interesting thing about it was that it was half of what had once been a man's scarf.
Did some lost love have the other half of the cloth?
Jonathon had only been nine years old when Kahlan Amnell had married Darken Rahl. But he had heard tales of the Seeker of Truth, Richard Cypher. It was said that Queen Kahlan and the Seeker had been lovers. Since she was a Confessor, Jonathon doubted that was true, but she still must have cared for the man very much.
Richard Cyper had been killed years ago. Maybe the other half of the scarf was destroyed with him
Whatever its origins, the scrap of material was precious to Queen Rahl. She always had it with her. Jonathon had often seen her twisting it through her slender fingers, so hard he wondered that it hadn't torn. Sometimes, when she was alone or with her maid servant, he would see her crush the cloth against her face as if trying to breathe in some lost scent, or cradle it against her cheek as if dreaming it was a lover's hand caressing her face.
The day before, the queen lost her relic. Frantic, like a lost child trying to find her way home, she had gone from room to room looking everywhere for it without success. Finally, summoned to her husband's side, she had to give up the search. She sat through most of the day staring straight ahead, her face blank and her eyes dead. Jonathon, standing guard so close to the throne, saw the tears pooled in her eyes.
He vowed, there and then, that he would find what she so desperately needed. Instead of retiring to his barracks for the night, he spent hours searching the palace. Finally, right before daybreak, he spotted it underneath some shrubbery in the garden. A small animal must have dragged it there.
Snatching the cloth up in triumph, the young man kept it carefully hidden and safe throughout the day, waiting for the opportunity to return it to the woman he adored.
He didn't expect any extravagant show of gratitude. All he craved was to see the expression in her eyes when he presented her with the treasure she prized so highly.
That would be enough to last him for a lifetime.
oOo
Jonathon knew he wasn't supposed to be in this wing of the palace, although he was familiar with it from childhood. General Egremont had sometimes brought his son with him when summoned by his master on a matter of no urgency or secrecy. Jonathon had learned his way past the barriers through close observation.
The apartments of the royal family were forbidden to all but a chosen few, or those who had been singled out by Lord Rahl to attend him. Punishment could be very brutal for those who trespassed. But it would only be for a few moments, and Jonathon was sure that when the queen knew his purpose all would be forgiven.
Finally he arrived at the doorway to Queen Rahl's apartments. Jonathon had never considered what he would do to gain entry, but oddly, the door to her sitting room was ajar when he approached. Soft voices wafted from inside. He recognized the queen's voice and that of her companion, Alice. Knowing he was on dangerous ground, Jonathon crept close enough to peer inside the salon. It was empty.
The women must be in the bedchamber. Then another voice chimed in. That pesky little girl was there. Damn! She would ruin everything. His solemn presentation of Queen Rahl's keepsake would be interrupted by nosy questions and chatter. The mood would be utterly spoiled.
Sighing in disappointed, Jonathon realized that all was not lost. The door was already open, there was an empty table just inside. He would just slip inside, leave the scarf on the table, and slip back out unseen. It would be enough knowing that he had eased her heartache, if only by a small portion.
Also, Jonathon was becoming aware of just how much danger he could be in if caught. A young man caught invading the province of the women of the royal family would be in a very precarious position.
Sliding sideways through the partially open door, he carefully withdrew the precious cloth and placed it down on the smooth surface.
It was done!
Sighing with relief, he turned to leave. The queen would find her treasure and know that she had an unknown ally in the palace.
A person who cared enough about her to risk his life to ease her pain.
He smiled.
That was enough for him.
"What are you doing here?" A woman's voice - sharp and angry, but not frightened.
"Turn around right now so I can see you!" the voice demanded.
Jonathon obeyed, only to see the woman he worshiped glaring at him.
Of course she would be surprised, even shocked. He should have expected that.
He was scared but was sure he could make her understand. "Your scarf. The one you lost yesterday," he babbled, "I found it for you. See – I put it over there," pointing a shaking finger at the crumpled cloth he tried to explain, "I knew how much it meant to you and I wanted to...," seeing the expression on her face, Jonathon's voice trailed off.
Kahlan's gaze pivoted to the table. Seeing what was there, she raced over and grabbed the scarf up in her hand, examining it closely, then frowning, "What have you done to it? It's filthy – it looks like you've dragged it through the mud," she rounded on him, eyes blazing, "You took this and desecrated it. It was the only thing I had left. The only thing of his I had left," clutching the material to her breast, the woman's face twisted first in pain, then in fury.
"Why do all of you take everything precious and destroy it? You are monstrous – all of you!"
"My Lady…My Queen, I wanted to please you. I stayed up all night looking for it." Jonathon could understand her initial anger at his presence in her chambers, but he was bewildered at her assumption that he would deliberately do anything to hurt her.
Had he done something that she might have misunderstood? Insulted her unknowingly? He tried to think, but could come up with nothing. He had only been at the palace for three months.
Maybe she didn't know who he was. His father must be known to her. She had even met Jonathon when he was much younger.
"My Lady, my name is Jonathon. My father is General Egremeont."
"I know who your father is!" she snapped, "He's the toad who crouches at my husband's side to carry out his bidding. I can't stand the sight of him," raking scathing eyes over his uniform, she resumed her tirade, "I see that you are following in his illustrious footsteps. I'm certain that your hands will soon be as bloody as his, if they aren't already."
Jonathon looked down at the uniform he had always worn with great pride. She made him feel like it was a filthy rag, something dirty and shameful. He recoiled inwardly under her attack, but he was a soldier. He forced himself to stand up straight.
"Do you have any idea of what your father has done to innocent men, women and children?" Kahlan's loathing permeated the room. She briefly hugged the torn linen to her face, then turned and threw it into the fire roaring in the hearth.
"Now that you've handled it, I can't bear the thought of touching it again," turning back to face him, she continued, "It was the only thing left that I loved, and you have stolen it from me. I hope that satisfies your twisted, D'Haran sense of humor."
Jonathon was so stunned by the continuous onslaught that he could no longer respond. Tears of impotent rage and humiliation pricked behind his eyes, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of showing any pain. His face froze into a stoic mask.
At that moment, Rachel peeked around the door to the bedchamber, "Mother, what's wrong? Who are you shouting at?" Spotting Jonathon, the girl smiled briefly, then shot a nervous glance over at her mother.
But Kahlan wasn't through. "I don't care who your father is. You have broken into my chambers without any authority or permission, and I will see you punished," Looking over at Alice, the queen snapped out orders, "Fetch a sentry and send for my husband. Now!"
As Alice hurried to obey, Kahlan gloated in satisfaction at the young man, "I think you're going to discover that your father will have little influence with Lord Rahl when it concerns the safety of the women of his household."
"Safety! Lady," the once reverent title now came reluctantly to Jonathon's lips, "I threatened nobody's safety. I came here out of a desire to help you, nothing more."
"Mother,"Rachel piped up, "I believe him. Maybe you shouldn't get so mad at him." The girl faced Jonathon, starting at him intently. He looked back at her, gratified by her defense, but with little hope that a nine year old girl would be able to help him.
Kahlan shot her daughter a furious glare, "He could have killed you, Rachel. He could have killed all of us in our sleep, and it would have been too late before he was caught."
"But he didn't kill us mother. He doesn't even have a weapon," Rachel said calmly, "Besides, I did what you taught me mother, and his eyes tell me that he's speaking the truth."
Kahlan clenched her fists, her anger stoked and seeking an outlet.
"Rachel, the only way we can be sure if – this person – is telling the truth is if he is confessed. I know you've never done it before, but this is a unique situation. If he maintains his innocence under confession, then we'll know for sure, won't we?" the woman looked at her child expectantly.
Rachel didn't move, looking first at her mother, then over at Jonathon.
"Mother, you taught me that my power is not one to be used lightly. If I confess Jonathon, his life will change forever. It was probably wrong of him to come here tonight, but I think it's wrong to confess him."
Kahlan stared at Rachel, incredulous, "Are you refusing to obey me?"
"Mother, I just said that I think that it's not necessary. Jonathan's -"
The girl abruptly interrupted her own explanation.
"Father!" Rachel's solemnity shattered as she ran to her father and threw herself into his arms. Jonathon had not heard Lord Rahl enter the room, but he immediately sensed a change in the air. He didn't know whether to be more afraid or relieved.
Darken studied the situation calmly. Jonathon thought that not many men could retain such regal dignity while holding a small girl in his arms. Gently setting Rachel on her feet, but resting his hand lightly on the crown of her head, Lord Rahl finally spoke, "After being informed that there was a dangerous villain threatening my wife and child, I came here as quickly as possible. I can't tell you what a relief it is to find you all alive and in apparent good health," his voice was lightly mocking as he glanced at Kahlan .
Before his wife could respond, Rachel hurried to explain, "It's only Jonathon, father. You remember him – General Egremont's son. He used to come with his father to visit us and now he works here," Rachel continued to rattle happily, seemingly oblivious to her mother's seething resentment, "Mother lost something in the garden yesterday and she looked everywhere for it. Jonathon found it for her and came to return it. Since the door was open, he just came on in and put it on the table and tried to leave but then mother came in and caught him," Rachel stopped, finally running out of breath.
In spite of himself, the corner of Darken's mouth quirked up slightly at Rachel's rapid summary of events. Her presence might be useful in some of his council sessions. She seemed to be able to narrow things down to their essentials without wasting time.
"Kahlan, is Rachel's account accurate?" Darken gazed at his wife, a current passing between them which made Jonathon very uneasy. Rachel seemed oblivious to it, or maybe it had become so much a part of her life that she just accepted it.
"He had no right to be here," Kahlan responded, despising the petulance in her voice, "he just walked right in. Who knows what he planned to do."
Rachel had caught her breath again, "But I do know, father. I used my powers. I looked him right in the eyes like mother taught me. Everything Jonathon said was the truth. He just wanted to return the scarf that mother lost. If mother hadn't caught him, he would have just walked out and we never would have noticed."
"And what was this valuable item Jonathon was returning, Rachel?" although the words were ostensibly addressed to his child, Darken's eyes were fixed on Kahlan.
This time Rachel knew to be quiet.
"It was just an old scarf," Kahlan replied, "It was a gift from my sister. It was so dirty and worn out that I threw it in the fire."
"The boy went to all that trouble to find an old rag, risked his life to return it, and you just burned it," Darken's voice was edged with disbelief, but after a few seconds decided that the matter was not worth pursuing.
Darken's attention shifted to the cause of the evening's commotion. Looking at Jonathon evenly, his voice became very quiet, "Jonathon, your father has served me loyally and well for over thirty years. Because of that fact, and because of my daughter's ability to discern the truth, I will only confine you to your barracks for the next thirty days. After that you may return to your position at my side. But If you ever approach my family or their private apartments again without my permission and authority, I promise that your punishment will be worse than you can possibly imagine."
"Now go. My guards will escort you to the barracks."
"Thank you Lord Rahl, you have my word. I will never betray your trust in me,"Jonathon had regained his self-possession and pride. Before he turned to leave with his escort, he briefly caught Rachel's eye and nodded to her. She looked back at him, very serious, and then, so quickly that he almost missed it, she flashed him a grin.
This night, Jonathon lost his undying devotion to Queen Kahlan Rahl, and learned that things are never quite what they appear to be.
But – most importantly – and in the most unlikely fashion – he had gained a friend.