Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of the Seeker, or any characters, places, things, ideas, etc., therein. They belong to ABC/Disney Studios, Paperboy Productions, and Renaissance Pictures.
Summary: The value of a Mother Confessor is more than just her powerful touch. RichardKahlan
Spoiler: Slight one for Prophecy
Pairing: Richard Cypher/Kahlan Amnell
Author's Note: This is my first Legend of the Seeker fic, though I've been a fan of the series since the series premier last year. I wanted to wait a while and make sure I had a fairly firm grip on the characters' "voices" before I attempted a story, though. I see this as taking place somewhere in season one, and it's told in Richard's point of view. Thanks for checking my fic out, and I hope you enjoy it!
"Well, that was good."
I glanced at Zeddicus Zu'ul Zorander out of the corner of my eye, barely holding in my laughter as the old wizard laid back on his sleeping pallet with his hands folded over his stomach and a huge smile on his lips. "We're all lucky you managed to get that rabbit without burning it to a crisp again," I teased him.
Opening one eye, Zedd glared at me. "Don't push it, boy," he said. "Or you'll be elected to catch the next one, and I'd love to see you try to match wits, speed, and agility with a rabbit. It should prove to be quite an interesting display." Satisfied with his logic, Zedd closed his eyes again. Soon thereafter he started snoring softly.
"I guess you'll be taking first watch tonight." Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor, appeared from the woods right after she spoke, her white dress illuminated with a ghostly glow in the firelight. She sat down next to me, her dark hair still wet at the ends from where she'd been bathing.
Shrugging, I nudged a stick into the fire with the toe of my boot. "I don't mind," I said. "First watch is my favorite. There's just something about watching and hearing everyone and everything bedding down…" I trailed off with a smile, knowing Kahlan understood me.
She laid down on her sleeping pallet, her head less than two feet from my hip, and smiled at me. The firelight glittered in her eyes as she tucked her hands under her head for a pillow. "It is one of the most peaceful times," she agreed. "Just like early mornings." Lifting her hand, she covered a yawn before mumbling an apology and rolling onto her side. Her eyes slipped closed, her breathing evened out, and then she was asleep.
I knew I should be as tired as Zedd and Kahlan, but I still felt too wired to sleep. It had been a long day of tracking and then fighting D'Harans. Working together, it hadn't been too hard for the three of us to defeat them, but Zedd was tired from using his magic, and Kahlan had had to confess one of the soldiers, who was later killed by his fellows before the last of them fell. She had been quiet for most of the day after that, until just before they'd eaten. Sometimes she got like that after confessing someone, and I'd learned to leave her alone until she'd dealt with it in her own way.
Settling my back against the fallen log behind me to get more comfortable, I rested the Sword of Truth across my lap and made sure my senses were on high alert. It was my duty to protect the camp, my friends -- and the whole world, for that matter. Or so it seemed. As the Seeker, I'd promised to fight evil (and Darken Rahl) and defend those who couldn't defend themselves. The Resistance was growing every day, but sometimes I wondered if it would be enough. At times like during the fight this afternoon it seemed like we were fighting an unbeatable enemy, and the D'Harans were so much more powerful than us that they'd win. Was that even a little bit like what Kahlan felt like when she confessed someone?
I looked at her, lying there in her pure white dress, her face relaxed and peaceful in sleep. None of us led easy lives, but I had a feeling hers was even harder than anyone else's. She had a power she constantly had to keep restrained; even more than that, everywhere she went she was feared because of what she was. People were inherently afraid of Confessors, even though they begged for the peace and justice she stood for. I got the feeling they wished she and the peace and justice weren't a package deal.
Ever since Kahlan and Zedd had explained the concept of Confessors to me, I had found it grossly unfair that people were so afraid of Kahlan. They never really got close enough to her to get to know her as a person. Kahlan was kind, loving, compassionate, fiercely loyal, a great friend. She had far more worth than just her powerful touch, her gift of magic.
She was my best friend, my constant companion in the face of danger, and, though I knew nothing could ever come of it, the woman I loved with all my heart. We were in this fight together, a unified front against evil and everything it stood for. I'd known the moment I saw her running through the woods that day when I met her, saved her from the D'Harans who were trying to murder her, that she was special. I hadn't found out until later how special she was, but a deep part of me had known even then that she just was special.
Kahlan Amnell was more than just the Mother Confessor. She was everything to me. Darken Rahl and all the evil minions he threw at us would never change that, even though I knew they'd try.
Reaching out, I gently smoothed loose strands of her hair off her face. She sighed in her sleep and turned her face into my hand, making warmth rush up my arm and into my face. I was afraid I'd woken her, even though I'd tried to be gentle, but thankfully she stayed asleep. I had hinted to her how I felt, but she always closed off when I did. I didn't know what that meant, but it made me hesitant to come this close to her, to touch her even platonically, even when she was asleep.
Even if she saw me as nothing more than her friend, her fellow warrior, I would always love her, protect her, and be her friend. Leaning over, I pressed a very soft, very careful kiss to her forehead. She smiled in her sleep, and I hoped that meant that she was having good dreams instead of the nightmares she had sometimes after a battle.
Stroking my hand over her soft hair one last time, I turned back to the fire and rested my hand on the hilt of the Sword of Truth. It still tingled from the contact with her. "I love you, Kahlan," I whispered softly, so softly I barely heard my own words.
Then I focused my gaze on the trees ringing camp and the job I had to do. Maybe someday I'd be able to tell her how I felt, but for now, we would do our jobs as best we could and survive as very, very good friends. That was enough for me.
Thanks for reading!