Dawn

Darken dreamt. It was a pleasant dream, filled with light and laughter. All of his dreams had been thus since his return to life at the Pillars of Creation.

He had a lifetime of nightmares to his name already. Pleasant dreams were long overdue.

And yet, something about the dreams bothered him.

There was a haze about them, an unreality, a muffling of his senses. Were these normal dreams? It had been so long since he had dreamt of anything but the Keeper.

Someone walked with him in a garden, but he couldn't make out who. She tried to speak to him, but he could not hear. White light surrounded him, but it was not blinding.

He didn't like it.

When he awoke Cara was already standing, pulling on one of her gloves. She looked over her shoulder at him.

"I will get supplies, and horses."

"I will accompany you," Darken answered as he stood, an undignified yawn splitting his face as he shook out his cloak.

"Lord Rahl," Cara began. Darken looked at her sharply. "Don't be a fool. It will be safer if I go alone."

Eyes sparking at the insult, Darken swept his cloak around his shoulders, mentally cursing the summer heat. "You had no problem with me accompanying you into a village a few weeks ago, Cara. This is hardly different."

"That was before," Cara argued, voice harsh.

Before the veil was sealed. Before Hali's death. Before Cara had had to mourn her lover and her son in the same moment.

Before she became the only thing standing between Lord Rahl and a reunion with the Keeper.

Before he had asked her to stay with him.

Darken pulled up the hood of his cloak, hiding his face. "Yes, Cara. It was before."

Before Darken had seen the son he deprived himself of. Before he had given his life for the woman he –

Before he had walked in the Creator's garden.

He put on his belt, making sure that his Agiel, knife, and sword all hung freely.

They would be easily drawn should Cara's fears prove true.

"Come, Cara."

He was both frustrated and flattered by her obsession with his safety. But he would not allow her to go alone.

The reason was obvious.

"Lord Rahl," she protested through gritted teeth. Why did he have to be so stubborn? She ran a fingertip over the amulet she wore, an action that was swiftly becoming a habit.

"Come, Cara." He said with more force, turning his back on her to begin walking. Anger simmered beneath his skin.

Her protestations were not the cause, though they contributed. He would not allow her to coddle him as the blind healer had so enjoyed doing.

He disliked the way she said 'Lord Rahl.' Like she was any Mord'Sith, any woman to him. As if she were beneath him, as all others.

Like she did not appreciate that he had given his life, however briefly, to save hers.

Lord Rahl was a lonely man. An empty man.

Darken was not.

Scowling at his own ridiculous thoughts, Darken trudged onwards, head bowed to shadow his face.

Soon they would reach D'Hara, he would take the lay of the land, conquer it again, and take up residence in the People's Palace.

It was inconceivable that he would fail.

It was inconceivable that the thought would not give him pleasure.

"Cara," he commanded, "you will walk at my side."

She complied, a light in her face that he had missed from… before.

Once alone, they had reverted to old habits, the old way they interacted with each other when Mistress Cara was Lord Rahl's most trusted Mord'Sith. When she used to walk at his right hand, carefully two paces behind.

That was not the 'before' that Darken missed.

He missed the Cara that walked beside him, or before him. The Cara that dared to defy him, to hit him, the Cara that was in no way subservient.

With dawning awareness, Darken realized that he missed the Cara who did not treat him as Lord Rahl.

How very interesting.

Reaching out, Darken pulled Cara's hand into his, fingers interwoven just as they used to lead Hali.

Both kept their eyes on the path ahead.