Prompt: upon a midnight clear
Dear Sister
The summons came at once—a broken instant, fracturing endless time. When he was alive, Darken Rahl never realized how long time was. How interminable.
The summons was a relief, although he didn't relish the thought of being forced to inspire yet more Sisters of the Dark to kill the Mother Confessor. They'd been so unsuccessful so far, he was starting to doubt if he would ever see Kahlan again.
It came upon a midnight clear, he saw when he arrived. The small fire burned higher and brighter and, briefly, greener with his arrival.
But the face blinking up at him belonged to no Sister of the Dark.
"My dear sister…" Darken purred, although he had no idea why she had summoned him. It didn't pay to act surprised.
"What are you doing here?" Jennsen demanded. "You're dead!"
"Your grasp of the obvious has always been masterly," Darken drawled. "I take it you didn't summon me—or not purposely, anyway," he added, noting the herb cocktail she'd apparently thrown in the fire. It was making his robes look particularly seasonal. "So what, in the Underworld, are you doing here? "
Jennsen flushed. "I came to pray," she said, in a small voice. "Children are starving, their parents are banelings—the Creator must hear me. Especially now."
"Creatormas is over, my dear Jennsen," Darken pointed out. "And so you decided to pray. Alone. At midnight. In a dark wood far from any village." He snorted. "I have half a mind to send a few banelings after you myself, you little idiot!"
She flinched.
"Why isn't Richard out here, protecting his dear baby sister?" Darken asked, frowning. It seemed unlike his brother's heroic nature to let Jennsen wander off alone. "Or did you give him the slip?"
Jennsen flushed, and raised her chin. "I haven't seen Richard since I gave him the Boxes of Orden," she said.
Darken stared. So Richard hadn't come running to reunite with his sister? Too busy not sleeping with the Mother Confessor, apparently.
"And you can go rot in the Underworld for all I care," Jennsen said crossly, getting up and brushing off her skirts. "You've been an even worse brother than Richard."
She stormed off, but Darken remained, the flames gently and ineffectually licking his robes. Why had she been able to summon him? It required magic, and Jennsen had none.
Had Darken followed the imprint of her thoughts back to the Land of the Living? Was he that desperate for companionship?
And what did she mean, he was a worse brother than Richard?
