Disclaimer: We'd be getting a ton of RK sexy times if I owned LotS… Note key word, IF. Therefore I own nothing but the idea and this fiction.
Spoilers: Up to "Perdition" Season 2.
Short summary: Richard has managed to find out about his ancestry through Shota. Knowing of the darkness lurking inside him, he's come to question himself, and his spirit. Can the good in him save him from bloodlust? Or will he lose himself to the evil, and endanger the one closest to his heart?
Authors Note: This mainly has to do with Fury, but I've decided to put it after Perdition, so that the new prophecy will come into play, furthermore making him fear the darkness even more. Unsure how long this one'll go, but, lemme know what you think! (Also, Undisclosed Desires will be updated soon, sorry for the delay on that one folks!)
The voice rang out, eerily inaudible yet clear as day.
It tormented him. Burdened his thoughts with images of memories from months prior.
He could see himself slaughtering those soldiers. Could see himself turning against his friends, and most importantly, he saw himself raise his sword to her. The mere thought of hurting his beloved sent cold shivers down his spine. It burned him to know that he had almost struck her.
As long as the Mother Confessor's pure heart beats, the Keeper is doomed to fail.
The prophecy. It swarmed through his head like a chant, as if proclaiming its true meaning. Each word was laced with a warning directed at no one person, but him. Almost as if the prophecy had changed as a direct result of his quest. Richard could not deny the certainty behind his actions. In a way, he was serving the Keeper by killing. Feeding the enemies army, and each time he sent another to the Underworld, the Keeper added one more solider to fight in this war.
Before, it hadn't been so bad. Of course, the thought stayed on his mind. Despite the constant reassurance from his comrades, his friends, Richard often dwelled upon the mark he bared.
As if that hadn't been enough to chew, now Kahlan was the target.
He was running, no-- his horse was barreling down a forestry path. Its hooves were like hail upon hard rock, beating into the ground like a warriors drum. Everywhere around him, D'Haran's attacked. They ran at him, jumped at him, flew at him, and chased him. Having no choice, Richard drew the Sword of Truth, "Blade; Be true to this day" The words left his lips in a low cry, his voice tearing from his throat as he found a rhythm in slashing. Up, down, switch sides; up, down.
No matter how many he killed, they just kept coming. The horses hide was now stained crimson, his clothing and blade in no better shape. His reflection flickered off the clean end of the blade, forcing Richard to pull back on the reigns, and suddenly, there was no ambush of quads. There were no stampeding horses, no more angry or fearful soldier's running at him. Only bodies, death loitering the ground. The sword of truth hung in his clenched fist, his hair a matted mess against his face, sweat mixed with blood soaking his clothes and skin.
Gazing at the sickening sight all around him, Richard hardly believed he had managed to do all of this… alone. The sheer thought of it was appalling. The world around him shimmered, wavering slightly as his vision blurred, and the sound of running water forced him to tear his eyes off the vanishing landscape, and towards the bright blue ocean now before him. Bewildered, Richard took a step, and then, he saw her.
'You're a danger to her, you always were.'
Her form seemed so angelic, standing atop the rippling water, her white Confessor dress caught in the wind, yet it blew slowly, almost as if time had slowed itself to a near halt. She was Heaven's perfect vista. Richard felt himself smiling despite the blood on his hands, her blue eyes gazing right at him, her lips turned up into that special smile reserved only for him. He spoke her name, but no voice came with it. Swallowing, he tried again, but found he could muster no sound.
A wet drop splashed off his nose, causing him to blink. His attention only pulled from his Confessor for a moment. Reaching up to wipe the liquid from his nose, he was surprised to see red. Pulling his hand away from his view quickly, the smile on his face completely disappeared. The once blue, clear water was now a deep red. A hand touched his shoulder, and without thinking, Richard turned, thrusting his sword directly into the one who'd been so foolish as to sneak up on him. He was fixed with a look of mixed pain. The woman gaped at him, in sheer shock and disbelief, her blue eyes twisted in agony, and her once pure dress now stained with her own blood.
His eyes widened. "K-Kahlan?!"
Bolting upright, Richard heaved greedy amounts of air. His skin was soaked with sweat, heart pounding wildly under his ribs as he quickly tore his eyes around the camp site. Kahlan was sleeping peacefully beside him, blissfully unaware of the nightmare that had been plaguing his mind for weeks.
Swallowing hard, he through the blankets off of him, running his hand up over his face, and through his hair.
From the lighting of the sky, he could tell that day-break was fast approaching. Spiting his still exhausted state, Richard couldn't fathom falling back asleep. What point served meeting such delusions? His mind hardly ever entertained riddles, but his current reason for lacking sleep had him questioning his own heritage. He knew his blood possessed powerful magic. Knew that the Rahl in him was no better than his forefathers. What he didn't understand was this dream.
Was it an epiphany? Some sort of premonition of what was to come? The meaning behind it was quite obvious, blatantly so.
Sighing in frustration, Richard cast a glance back at his Confessor. Her beautiful face was illuminated by the moonlight shining brightly upon them. Smooth, pale skin appeared flushed. She was probably dreaming, he mused, something dirty. Things they both normally dreamed about, and if they were feeling uncharacteristically haughty, they would tease each other about them from time to time. Though, he knew not this time. Such banter couldn't be tossed lightly back and forth when his dream had been all consuming. Every time his eyes closed, he could see her face. The torment in her eyes as he ran her through.
The recollection made him recoil, inwardly flinching at the thought that in his nightmare, he had not only hurt the woman he loved, the woman he was so completely devoted to, and enamored with, but, he had killed her.
Was it the fear of losing her that haunted him, this new prophecy? Or, was it the fact that the more he killed, the more work he did for the Keeper?
Richard wasn't sure.
For all he knew, it could have been all of the above, and yet, it wouldn't make the difference. The point was he had seen her die. Had been the one to cause her death. Never-mind the Keeper succeeding, Richard wasn't on this quest for any other reason than to save her life. She was his universe. Without her, he might as well be dead, the world would be nothing but a barren wasteland.
The weight of his nightmare heavily dampened his spirits. Kahlan was the purest source of good that he knew, and he would do anything to protect her.
He would die for her.
Reaching out to run the back of his hand across her cheek, he felt his jaw tense. Time and time again they had proven their love for each other. Yet, here they were. Still sleeping upon separate bed spreads, yet side by side.
What he would give for a normal life. One without magic, or evil… Without pressing matters that had them fighting for their lives one minute, and running the next.
She deserved a better life than this, he was sure of it.
"Mmm, you're up early." Her soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. Even though he had been in a state of distress just moments prior, her soothing voice lulled the panic.
"Sorry to wake you." Her eyes focus in on his, still groggy from sleep but she does not move, nor stop his hand from caressing her skin. She enjoys the feeling of him touching her, always had. Closing her eyes, she gives a soft purr before reaching up to grasp his hand, and hold it against her face.
"Your palms are clammy." She notes, opening her eyes to stare at him as she sits up, turning her body towards his. He is almost aware of their proximity. "They only get this way when you're nervous, or afraid. What is it, Richard?"
He doesn't want to tell her about the dream. Too afraid of what it could mean once it's out in the open. She would inform Zedd, and Zedd would undoubtedly find some hidden message within it. Richard wasn't prepared to handle any news that would mean parting from her.
"Just a nightmare, that's all." He assures her, mustering a smile, and very glad he'd found a way around her Confessor's stare. She could always tell when he was lying, but the Seeker had become quite the master at disguising dire white lies.
Kahlan still feels unsure, even though he seems fine now. She knows he wasn't before, and so she wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him towards her.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her form, Richard hugs her close, reveling in the smell that is so her. She feels her nuzzle her face into the crook of his neck, and tightens his arms that much more.
A chilly breeze sweeps through the alcove, the two of them urging closer to shield themselves from dawn's approaching cold. Winter is almost upon them yet again. Time seems to fly by so quickly.
Taking a breath, Kahlan pulls back to search his eyes one last time. She smiles at what she finds there. His desire for her is normally dormant, but now its written all over his face. Chuckling lightly, she shakes her head before leaning in, placing a hand to his cheek and softly brushing her lips against his.
Before he can return the embrace, however, Zedd's inhumanly loud snore breaks the spell woven between them, and the two separate to allow a breath.
"What are you two doing?" The Wizard's voice is raspy from sleep, but the warning is plain as day. Laughing at this, both Kahlan and Richard pull back the rest of the way, stretching and yawning, preparing for the day ahead of them. "Have you been hunting yet, Richard? I'm starving!"
Shaking his head in answer, Richard gives Kahlan one last smile before turning to grab his sword and stands, pulling the blade around his waist. Sometimes, he wonders just how a skinny old man like Zedd can eat so much, yet weigh so little.
"I'll come with you." Cara states simply, as if she had been awake this whole time but her puffy eyes give indication that she too was disturbed by Zedd's snore. Not about to argue the company, nor the help, Richard just nods his head, brows furrowing as he feels like they're being watched.
To be Continued.
End Notes: Short start, and its 5:30 AM. Not the best writing or wording, but I promise it will get better. Or at least, I hope! Let me know what you think.