Desperation
Zedd stood in the mage's work room, tinkering with the collars that Jennsen had pulled from the Fenrisulfr at the Battle of Falketurn Tower. It was the same room he had trained Darken in. The walls were already scorched, the stone of the floor already cracked.
More magic gone awry could hardly do more damage, so it was perfect.
With that thought in mind, Zedd took a deep breath, centering himself, and then moved his fingers in a complicated motion over the cruel chains spread on his battered oak table. The Spell of Knowing had to be performed under a moonless sky, in the moment of in between when night began to turn once more to day.
Watching the window, Zedd timed it perfectly as the first pale shades of twilight began to color the horizon.
He didn't even have time to curse before his eyes flew open and he was thrown into a wall.
-l-
Darken sat bolt upright, sweat gleaming on his skin.
He had been dreaming.
But.
Of what?
He could remember only a flash of green and then the glare of enormous red eyes.
Turning, he saw that Cara was once more missing from their bed. He was unhappy to find it so. He was not willing to admit that he feared she regretted her life with him.
He wouldn't allow her to leave.
Throwing the covers back, Darken groped for his plush velvet dressing gown, shrugging it on and loosely tying the belt before going in search of his queen.
He found her sitting in the window seat in her sitting room, a forlorn expression on her features as she gazed at the rising sun.
"Cara?" he called gently.
She started. As her pregnancy progressed she seemed to grow less aware of her surroundings. He never would have been able to sneak up on her even a few months before.
It worried him.
Her melancholy, her preoccupation… He had stayed away when she carried their first son. He didn't know how much of this was normal.
How much of it was caused by Cara's unhappiness.
Darken moved closer, sitting next to her in the window seat. "You weren't in bed."
"I couldn't get comfortable," she answered softly, her voice thick.
Was it thick with sleep… or sorrow?
"Something troubles you," he replied with a conviction he did not feel. More and more, he felt Cara slipping away from him.
It was unacceptable.
She lifted her face, and he could see that her eyes were red, and ringed with dark circles. Darken found he was compelled to move closer, to take her hand. There was a bubbling desperation he hated welling in the bottom of his heart.
"I'm just tired," she assured him, in an uncharacteristically tender moment shifting to lean against him.
He threaded one hand through her long unbound hair, admiring the color. The other hand he placed lightly on Cara's distended belly. It gave him pleasure to think of his son, to feel him move within her.
Her stomach rippled beneath her nightgown, and Darken felt his lips twitch up into an involuntary smile.
"He's going to be strong," he said with pride, imagining all the things he would teach the boy, the kingdom they would re-conquer and rule together.
A son that would love him.
"He's going to be the death of me," Cara groaned, arching her back, digging her knuckles into a particularly sore place near her spine. Face reddening, she placed a hand against the window to heave herself up.
Darken rose and helped her without comment, knowing how frustrated and weak she felt.
He had felt the same not so long ago, when his han was out of control and burning him alive from the inside out.
"Cara?" he said once she was on her feet.
"Yes?"
He kissed her.