wrongkindofsith | Room 418, Saturday Morning

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Room 418, Saturday Morning

Cara was sprawled out across the bed. Alone. And if last night had hardly been the social highlight of her year, it hadn't been unpleasant either.

She still thought that pie fountain was a patently ridiculous idea though.

[Mainly for the kid, whose paternity is NFB please.]

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Just because some people didn't know how to knock, didn't mean everyone else didn't either, of course, it probably helped Mason had had other people around to teach him manners.

He knocked again, harder this time. "Come on, Cara, open the door."

Oh, yes, because if there was anything guaranteed to put Cara in a good mood, it was unknown early morning visitors who started ordering her about. Cara stalked over to the door, wrapping a sheet around herself as she went.

This had better be good.

Mason wasn't ordering, it was just that he'd been told 'in case of emergency, go find Cara' for almost as long as he could remember. Though if he was being honest with himself, it was more a case of cared to remember.

Though right now he would have preferred her to be wearing more than a bedsheet and a scowl when she opened the door.

So now Cara had a tall blond boy, dressed straight out of the Midlands, standing in her doorway with his eyes tightly closed. "Well?"

Mason wasn't planning on opening his eyes any time soon, but he could just about hear the look he was getting.

"You think we could have this conversation inside the room?" He asked. "While dressed?"

Cara raised an eyebrow. "For someone I don't even know, you're very free with the orders."

Pot, kettle.

Mason opened his eyes just long enough to roll them at her. "I was asking, and you're always going on about how I'm not forceful enough giving orders."

Let's see, an unfamiliar boy with her colouring, who claimed to know her, Cara did not like where this was going one bit.

"Fine, come in then," she shoved the door fully open, and stalked back over to her leathers. "Try not to trip over anything." Not that there was actually anything on her floor for him to trip over.

"Just let me know when you're dressed," Mason said, shutting the door behind him by touch.

"Do you actually have a name?" Cara asked as she started pulling on her leathers. "Or should I just make something up?"

"It's Mason," he said, mentally bracing himself. "Mason Cypher."

"Is that supposed ot be some kind of joke?"

It wasn't a particularly funny one.

Was Mason laughing?

"I don't know, I didn't pick it."

"You expect me to believe that Richard is your father?" Among the many reasons that was impossible, chief among them was that Richard would have to actually sleep with her first.

He was in the ways that mattered. "Why not?" Which wasn't a yes, Cara might note.

Yes, Cara had in fact noticed that. "You really want me to list the reasons?"

"Not really, but, hey, Aunt Kahlan says it's true." Mason loved his aunt, but he couldn't help the hint of bitterness that crept into his tone."And everyone knows the Mother Confessor wouldn't lie about something like that."

Edited 2012-04-01 01:37 (UTC)

Everyone who hadn't actually met Kahlan, maybe. "She would if she thought she had reason to."

That nasty feeling about where this was headed was just getting worse.

"It's not even that big a lie when you get down to it." One of these days, Mason would figure out if he was ranting about or defending Aunt Kahlan when he got like this."More a like a misdirection about which Lord Rahl's bastard I am."

Cara surprised herself with her reaction, shoving the boy against the wall, an agiel at his throat. "Stop lying," she growled.

Mason did not see that coming, and not just because he'd been keeping his eyes closed as he wait for Cara to actually tell him she was dressed.

"I'm not lying," he protested, gasping and suddenly grateful that his Cara had won the 'needs to learn to handle an agiel' argument. "I'm your son."

Not that anyone had bothered telling him that until it reached the point it was blatantly obvious to anyone who looked that they were somehow related.

Cara pressed the agiel in just that little bit further. "My son is dead."

Which was the first time she'd ever acknowledged that fact out loud.

Ow. Also, what?

"No, I'm not!" Though Mason wasn't sure how much longer that would be true if Cara didn't believe him. "Who told you that?"

"Who do you think?" Cara asked, easing up the pressure. Slightly. "Rahl took great pleasure in telling me how he had my son killed before he'd lived one day, let alone..." She had no idea how old this boy was.

"I'm sixteen," Mason supplied. "And I swear I'm telling you the truth."

Though he was guessing that this Cara really wasn't his version of Cara.

Whatever else this boy was, that earnestness was pure Richard.

Cara sighed and lowered her agiel, shoving herself away from the boy. "What's your story then?"

Now that he didn't have an agiel to it, Mason rubbed his neck. "I don't have a story," he said, shrugging. "I was young, it was just after midsummer and one night you and Aunt Kahlan dragged me out of my bed in the barracks, carried me out of the training camp and dumped me at Fath-, at Richard's feet, and he told me I was his son"

"Just like that?"

"More or less." Mason shrugged, leaning against the wall. "The rest of it, I didn't find out until a couple of years ago."

He was pretty sure he still didn't know half the story.

For her part, Cara was leaning against her desk. "How'd that happen?"

"Looked in a mirror lately?" Mason asked. "It was kind of obvious something was up there. So I started asking questions..."

That was something of an understatement.

"And you got answers you didn't like," Cara finished for him.

"No," Mason said. "I mean it wasn't great finding out Richard's my uncle instead of my father. But I didn't mind some of them."

He was guessing this Cara was even worse dealing with open displays of affection than his was, but hopefully she got the hint.

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Room 418, Saturday Morning

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This part also NFB, pls.

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Re: This part also NFB, pls.