Fic: Song of the Night Wisp
Title: Song of the Nightwisp
Characters: Jennsen Rahl, Darken Rahl, Richard Rahl, Kahlan Amnell-Rahl, Wisp
Pairing: Richard and Kahlan - backround characters
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1906
Summary: Set three years post-Tears. Richard is Lord Rahl, Darken is First Advisor, Jennsen is Lady Rahl - but doesn't feel like it yet.
This was written for the peoplespalace 2nd Anniversary Intrapalace Inspiration challenge.
The fic was inspired by this wonderful fanart by pristineungift
I just hope I did it justice.
Song of the Night Wisp
It was the first night of the New Year, and a soft blanket of snow already covered the garden of the People’s Palace. Lady Jensen Rahl had been curled up in one of the window seats all afternoon and evening, nose pressed against the glass, watching the crystalline flakes falling to the ground, wishing herself, on this one night, any place else.
Her brothers, Richard and Darken, were discussing the most appropriate strategy for dealing with a minor uprising against Richard’s rule which was being led by a local blowhard in the Midlands.
“I won’t do it!” Richard declared firmly, in response to one of Darken's suggestions. “To send any of my troops there would result in the deaths of innocents.”
“And if you don’t send troops, dear brother,” Darken drawled,” you will not only lose the respect of the people you rule, including your own soldiers, but you will only delay the inevitable.” Jennsen could hear the impatience coiled in his voice. “In a month, maybe two, this traitor will have drawn more discontents to his side, and you will then have to send in twice as many troops, resulting in twice as many dead civilians.” He heaved a great sigh, and pushed his chair away from the council table. “At least say that you’ll consider it, Richard,” Darken cautioned, his tone now weary. “You may have decried my methods in the past, but let this upheaval continue, and you could discover how fast a ruler can be toppled from power unless he acts swiftly, and, yes, sometimes harshly.”
With those parting words, Darken Rahl, the former ruler of D’Hara, stalked away from where his younger brother, still trying to make up his mind, still dithered over the map of the Midlands, and over to the fire blazing in the hearth. Hands behind his back, Darken stared broodingly into the flames.
Jennsen’s lips twitched up in a slight smile. She had lost count of the number of similar conversations the new Lord Rahl and his First Advisor had conducted over the three years that Richard had governed D’Hara. Her brothers were both stubborn men.
At that moment, just as Jennsen had dreaded, Lady Kahlan danced into the study, her expression alight with eagerness. “Richard,” she trilled. “Have you forgotten? It’s almost time.” She ignored Darken completely, but threw a sympathetic smile in Jennsen’s direction.
Richard looked up blearily from his map, then his face took on the glow that only Kahlan could call forth. “Time for what, Love? It seems as if I’ve been sitting here for hours.”
“The Night Wisp, silly. It’s the Night of the First Night Wisp.” Kahlan, her stomach already swollen with her third child, assumed a look of affectionate exasperation as she regarded her husband. “You know the Wisps rarely venture to D’Hara, and to find the first, and maybe the only, Night Wisp, means we’ll be blessed with good fortune for the rest of the year.” She was busy fastening her cloak about her body, and handed Richard his heavy red robe. “Come along now. I’ve already put the twins to bed, and Zedd’s watching over them. I want us to find the Night Wisp together again this year, darling, like we have the past two years. I never have any trouble seeing them. They’re naturally drawn to me.”
This was the invitation Jennsen had been dreading.
The invitation that always excluded her.
The Night of the First Night Wisp, a celebration of a creature of magic, could never mean anything to the Pristinely Ungifted. As much as Jennsen longed to see a Night Wisp, one of those gentle creatures like the one who had helped Kahlan cross the boundary into Westland and find Richard, she never would.
So, once again, as in the past, Jennsen would just stay inside, and feel sorry for herself.
Laughing and murmuring to each other, Kahlan and Richard, now clad in their winter attire, threw open the door to the garden and ventured out into the night, certain to find the first Night Wisp of the New Year.
After husband and wife had left, the study seemed empty and desolate. Darken was there in body, but as he stood gazing into the hearth, he seemed far away in mind. Jennsen wondered if he yearned for the days when he held absolute power. It had taken her many months to forgive Darken for what he had done to her when he was Lord Rahl, but over the past two years they had grown somewhat closer. But Jennsen was still intimidated by him. Much more so than she was with Richard.
She curled up tighter as if trying to disappear when Darken finally strode away from the fire and approached Jennsen’s safe little window seat. He frowned, pinning her with a solemn gaze. “Why aren’t you outside with the others,” he asked, for once giving her his full attention.
“How can you even ask that?”Jennsen snapped, mustering up her courage. After all, she had braved this man’s palace once when no one else could, and had taken what was most precious to him. She was no coward. “What point is there in going outside to look for a creature that I can’t even see?” Jennsen felt humiliated by the sudden thickness of her voice, and by the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She had never realized how much this night, and her exclusion from it, mattered to her. “I guess I’ll just have to manage without good luck for the rest of the year.” She managed a strangled little laugh.
Darken regarded her thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. “It’s true you can’t see the Night Wisp, Jennsen, but you could hold one. You could let it feel you and know you.”
He was right.
Why couldn’t she have a touch of what had always been denied to her?
Darken swooped up a torn white wrap that Kahlan had dropped over a chair earlier in the day, meaning to have it mended. Walking back to the window, he reached out his hand and gently grasped his sister’s wrists, pulling her slight body against his own while he bundled her up in the shawl. “It’s cold outside, and still snowing, but I know some places to look for Night Wisps that even Kahlan isn’t aware of.”
With that, almost before Jennsen knew it, they were outside and standing in the biting cold. She could hear Kahlan’s soft laugh wafting over to them from the other side of the garden.
“How do you know where to find the Night Wisp, brother?” Jennsen queried, looking up at him. “Do they come to you like they do Kahlan?”
Darken snorted. “Hasn’t Kahlan told you about Darken Rahl and the Night Wisps?” It was hard to see his expression in the darkness, but there was sadness under the sardonic tone of his voice. “Let’s just say that if there is such a thing as collective memory among Night Wisps, they would probably all be plotting my assassination.”
“Then if they hate you so much, how will I ever get to hold one?” Jennsen said with a forlorn sense of disappointment. Had her brother lied to her again?
Darken reached over and wrapped the shawl tighter around her. “I can still find the Night Wisp, sister, but only you can touch it. Come now. Let’s start looking. It’s likely to be resting in a tree, or on a branch.” He was all brisk authority as he took her by the hand, and they started a slow circuit of the garden, taking care to keep distance between themselves and Lord and Lady Rahl.
The snow was coming down faster now, and Jennsen’s teeth started chattering. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe…”
“There - over there.” Darken whispered, his breath hot against her cheek. “It’s in the fork of that branch just a few feet in front of you.”
“But I can’t see anything,” Jennsen was looking desperately around the tree Darken had indicated. “How will I know where to reach?”
“I’ll be your eyes, Jennsen.” For an impatient man, Darken’s voice was strangely gentle. “The Night Wisp is right there, just a few inches above you. Just approach her slowly. Let her know that you mean her no harm.”
“How?” Jennsen felt lost in this world of magic.
“Just talk to her. Tell her about yourself. It doesn’t matter that you can’t hear her. She can still hear you.” Darken continued to guide her. He stood several feet away - afraid, he had told her, that the Night Wisp would fly far away if he drew near.
Jennsen moved her hand over to the right a few inches, and there she was - the Night Wisp! At first, scared of frightening her, Jennsen barely touched the tiny creature with her forefinger, all the while murmuring words of reassurance. “”I found her, Darken, but I’m afraid to hold her. She’s so little and fragile.”
“I know you, Jennsen,” Darken assured her. “You won’t hurt her.”
Carefully, tenderly, Jennsen cupped her hand around the Night Wisp, and plucked it from the branch. She then wrapped both hands lightly around the Wisp, bringing it close to her body. Once she opened her hands in the vain hope that she might see the Wisp, but glimpsed only her bare palms. Yet she could feel the Wisp pulsing in her grasp, she could feel the trust it had in her.
As Jennsen continued to speak softly to the Wisp, she began to hear melodic cooing sounds. She looked over at Darken with disbelief. “She’s talking to me, Darken, and I can hear it. Can you hear it?”
Darken, looked bewildered. “Yes, I hear it. She’s talking. She speaks a language I don’t understand, but few people do.”
“But don’t you see,” Jennsen was almost crying with joy, “I shouldn’t be able to hear her. She speaks a language of magic, and I can hear it. Do you think it’s a miracle - or something?”
Jennsen knew her brother didn’t believe in miracles, but even he couldn’t explain this.
She wanted to stand in the garden forever, just holding the Night Wisp and listening to its song, but her body was shaking with cold, and her teeth were now chattering so hard that her jaw felt numb. In spite of his concern about keeping away from the Wisp, Darken rushed over to Jennsen and put his arm around her, trying to share some of his warmth with her, but it wasn’t enough.
“You have to get back inside, Jennsen,” he demanded, his voice sharp with concern. “I know you want to stay, but you can’t.”
“I know, I know,” Jennsen acknowledged, shivering, barely able to get the words out. “I’m ready now. You helped me find the Wisp, I got to hold her and hear her sing. I don’t need anything more.” She walked back to the tree and tenderly returned the Night Wisp to its small shelter.
“Now,” Jennsen ordered, her voice brisk as she wrapped her arm around Darken’s waist before they headed back to the warmth of the study, “you and I are going to pretend that we never left the palace, and we’re going to let Richard and Kahlan find the First Night Wisp of the New Year - again.”
If he was surprised by Jennsen’s air of authority, Darken didn’t show it, but only smiled and nodded his head in agreement.
Characters: Jennsen Rahl, Darken Rahl, Richard Rahl, Kahlan Amnell-Rahl, Wisp
Pairing: Richard and Kahlan - backround characters
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1906
Summary: Set three years post-Tears. Richard is Lord Rahl, Darken is First Advisor, Jennsen is Lady Rahl - but doesn't feel like it yet.
This was written for the peoplespalace 2nd Anniversary Intrapalace Inspiration challenge.
The fic was inspired by this wonderful fanart by pristineungift
I just hope I did it justice.
Song of the Night Wisp
It was the first night of the New Year, and a soft blanket of snow already covered the garden of the People’s Palace. Lady Jensen Rahl had been curled up in one of the window seats all afternoon and evening, nose pressed against the glass, watching the crystalline flakes falling to the ground, wishing herself, on this one night, any place else.
Her brothers, Richard and Darken, were discussing the most appropriate strategy for dealing with a minor uprising against Richard’s rule which was being led by a local blowhard in the Midlands.
“I won’t do it!” Richard declared firmly, in response to one of Darken's suggestions. “To send any of my troops there would result in the deaths of innocents.”
“And if you don’t send troops, dear brother,” Darken drawled,” you will not only lose the respect of the people you rule, including your own soldiers, but you will only delay the inevitable.” Jennsen could hear the impatience coiled in his voice. “In a month, maybe two, this traitor will have drawn more discontents to his side, and you will then have to send in twice as many troops, resulting in twice as many dead civilians.” He heaved a great sigh, and pushed his chair away from the council table. “At least say that you’ll consider it, Richard,” Darken cautioned, his tone now weary. “You may have decried my methods in the past, but let this upheaval continue, and you could discover how fast a ruler can be toppled from power unless he acts swiftly, and, yes, sometimes harshly.”
With those parting words, Darken Rahl, the former ruler of D’Hara, stalked away from where his younger brother, still trying to make up his mind, still dithered over the map of the Midlands, and over to the fire blazing in the hearth. Hands behind his back, Darken stared broodingly into the flames.
Jennsen’s lips twitched up in a slight smile. She had lost count of the number of similar conversations the new Lord Rahl and his First Advisor had conducted over the three years that Richard had governed D’Hara. Her brothers were both stubborn men.
At that moment, just as Jennsen had dreaded, Lady Kahlan danced into the study, her expression alight with eagerness. “Richard,” she trilled. “Have you forgotten? It’s almost time.” She ignored Darken completely, but threw a sympathetic smile in Jennsen’s direction.
Richard looked up blearily from his map, then his face took on the glow that only Kahlan could call forth. “Time for what, Love? It seems as if I’ve been sitting here for hours.”
“The Night Wisp, silly. It’s the Night of the First Night Wisp.” Kahlan, her stomach already swollen with her third child, assumed a look of affectionate exasperation as she regarded her husband. “You know the Wisps rarely venture to D’Hara, and to find the first, and maybe the only, Night Wisp, means we’ll be blessed with good fortune for the rest of the year.” She was busy fastening her cloak about her body, and handed Richard his heavy red robe. “Come along now. I’ve already put the twins to bed, and Zedd’s watching over them. I want us to find the Night Wisp together again this year, darling, like we have the past two years. I never have any trouble seeing them. They’re naturally drawn to me.”
This was the invitation Jennsen had been dreading.
The invitation that always excluded her.
The Night of the First Night Wisp, a celebration of a creature of magic, could never mean anything to the Pristinely Ungifted. As much as Jennsen longed to see a Night Wisp, one of those gentle creatures like the one who had helped Kahlan cross the boundary into Westland and find Richard, she never would.
So, once again, as in the past, Jennsen would just stay inside, and feel sorry for herself.
Laughing and murmuring to each other, Kahlan and Richard, now clad in their winter attire, threw open the door to the garden and ventured out into the night, certain to find the first Night Wisp of the New Year.
After husband and wife had left, the study seemed empty and desolate. Darken was there in body, but as he stood gazing into the hearth, he seemed far away in mind. Jennsen wondered if he yearned for the days when he held absolute power. It had taken her many months to forgive Darken for what he had done to her when he was Lord Rahl, but over the past two years they had grown somewhat closer. But Jennsen was still intimidated by him. Much more so than she was with Richard.
She curled up tighter as if trying to disappear when Darken finally strode away from the fire and approached Jennsen’s safe little window seat. He frowned, pinning her with a solemn gaze. “Why aren’t you outside with the others,” he asked, for once giving her his full attention.
“How can you even ask that?”Jennsen snapped, mustering up her courage. After all, she had braved this man’s palace once when no one else could, and had taken what was most precious to him. She was no coward. “What point is there in going outside to look for a creature that I can’t even see?” Jennsen felt humiliated by the sudden thickness of her voice, and by the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She had never realized how much this night, and her exclusion from it, mattered to her. “I guess I’ll just have to manage without good luck for the rest of the year.” She managed a strangled little laugh.
Darken regarded her thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. “It’s true you can’t see the Night Wisp, Jennsen, but you could hold one. You could let it feel you and know you.”
He was right.
Why couldn’t she have a touch of what had always been denied to her?
Darken swooped up a torn white wrap that Kahlan had dropped over a chair earlier in the day, meaning to have it mended. Walking back to the window, he reached out his hand and gently grasped his sister’s wrists, pulling her slight body against his own while he bundled her up in the shawl. “It’s cold outside, and still snowing, but I know some places to look for Night Wisps that even Kahlan isn’t aware of.”
With that, almost before Jennsen knew it, they were outside and standing in the biting cold. She could hear Kahlan’s soft laugh wafting over to them from the other side of the garden.
“How do you know where to find the Night Wisp, brother?” Jennsen queried, looking up at him. “Do they come to you like they do Kahlan?”
Darken snorted. “Hasn’t Kahlan told you about Darken Rahl and the Night Wisps?” It was hard to see his expression in the darkness, but there was sadness under the sardonic tone of his voice. “Let’s just say that if there is such a thing as collective memory among Night Wisps, they would probably all be plotting my assassination.”
“Then if they hate you so much, how will I ever get to hold one?” Jennsen said with a forlorn sense of disappointment. Had her brother lied to her again?
Darken reached over and wrapped the shawl tighter around her. “I can still find the Night Wisp, sister, but only you can touch it. Come now. Let’s start looking. It’s likely to be resting in a tree, or on a branch.” He was all brisk authority as he took her by the hand, and they started a slow circuit of the garden, taking care to keep distance between themselves and Lord and Lady Rahl.
The snow was coming down faster now, and Jennsen’s teeth started chattering. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe…”
“There - over there.” Darken whispered, his breath hot against her cheek. “It’s in the fork of that branch just a few feet in front of you.”
“But I can’t see anything,” Jennsen was looking desperately around the tree Darken had indicated. “How will I know where to reach?”
“I’ll be your eyes, Jennsen.” For an impatient man, Darken’s voice was strangely gentle. “The Night Wisp is right there, just a few inches above you. Just approach her slowly. Let her know that you mean her no harm.”
“How?” Jennsen felt lost in this world of magic.
“Just talk to her. Tell her about yourself. It doesn’t matter that you can’t hear her. She can still hear you.” Darken continued to guide her. He stood several feet away - afraid, he had told her, that the Night Wisp would fly far away if he drew near.
Jennsen moved her hand over to the right a few inches, and there she was - the Night Wisp! At first, scared of frightening her, Jennsen barely touched the tiny creature with her forefinger, all the while murmuring words of reassurance. “”I found her, Darken, but I’m afraid to hold her. She’s so little and fragile.”
“I know you, Jennsen,” Darken assured her. “You won’t hurt her.”
Carefully, tenderly, Jennsen cupped her hand around the Night Wisp, and plucked it from the branch. She then wrapped both hands lightly around the Wisp, bringing it close to her body. Once she opened her hands in the vain hope that she might see the Wisp, but glimpsed only her bare palms. Yet she could feel the Wisp pulsing in her grasp, she could feel the trust it had in her.
As Jennsen continued to speak softly to the Wisp, she began to hear melodic cooing sounds. She looked over at Darken with disbelief. “She’s talking to me, Darken, and I can hear it. Can you hear it?”
Darken, looked bewildered. “Yes, I hear it. She’s talking. She speaks a language I don’t understand, but few people do.”
“But don’t you see,” Jennsen was almost crying with joy, “I shouldn’t be able to hear her. She speaks a language of magic, and I can hear it. Do you think it’s a miracle - or something?”
Jennsen knew her brother didn’t believe in miracles, but even he couldn’t explain this.
She wanted to stand in the garden forever, just holding the Night Wisp and listening to its song, but her body was shaking with cold, and her teeth were now chattering so hard that her jaw felt numb. In spite of his concern about keeping away from the Wisp, Darken rushed over to Jennsen and put his arm around her, trying to share some of his warmth with her, but it wasn’t enough.
“You have to get back inside, Jennsen,” he demanded, his voice sharp with concern. “I know you want to stay, but you can’t.”
“I know, I know,” Jennsen acknowledged, shivering, barely able to get the words out. “I’m ready now. You helped me find the Wisp, I got to hold her and hear her sing. I don’t need anything more.” She walked back to the tree and tenderly returned the Night Wisp to its small shelter.
“Now,” Jennsen ordered, her voice brisk as she wrapped her arm around Darken’s waist before they headed back to the warmth of the study, “you and I are going to pretend that we never left the palace, and we’re going to let Richard and Kahlan find the First Night Wisp of the New Year - again.”
If he was surprised by Jennsen’s air of authority, Darken didn’t show it, but only smiled and nodded his head in agreement.