Written for winner of the Son of Blood contest, adamsfamily. Contest winners each got to give me a drabble prompt, as well as getting a cameo character named for them in Dragon Blood.

Adamsfamily wanted to know what would happen if Giller had succeeded in transferring Kahlan's powers to Darken Rahl in "Conversion." If you are a contest winner and you have not already done so, contact me to claim your prize.


"You will be the first one I confess," Darken said as he watched the Seeker, the foretold bane of his existence.

His little brother.

The Confessor screamed and writhed as Giller utilized the Shakai'ah to draw her power from her body.

She wailed, throwing her head back. It had a different quality than her other protests - there was pain, yes, but also rage.

It raised the hairs on the back of Darken's neck, something about the sound sending a warning down to his bones.

"Giller, what is it?" He questioned.

"I do not know, my lord," was the wizard's reply.

Darken was not prepared to take chances. Not when he was this close to victory. Peace would be his. Peace.

And love.

One way, or another.

He gestured with two fingers, signaling his Mord'Sith. The Confessor screamed again, pulling one of her arms free. She grasped the throat of one of his Mord'Sith, eyes swirling black.

A Confessor's touch was deadly to Mord'Sith. The different magic was incompatible. The Mord'Sith fell to the floor, never to rise again. But the other mistress would not stand idly by as her Sister was destroyed. She viciously backhanded the bound Confessor, then followed the blow with a strike to the underside of the Confessor's jaw with the butt of her Agiel.

Kahlan Amnell slumped against her bonds, unconscious.

Once the Confessor had been neutralized Darken became aware of Richard struggling against his chains, screaming and calling for his love.

Darken gritted his teeth, "Finish it, Giller."

"Yes, my lord."

He could feel the power as it flowed into his veins, his skin. It was a tingle, a buzzing, a strange shadow that was cast against his spirit.

Kahlan Amnell hung like a broken doll, the Shakai'ah still stuck in her flesh.

"You killed her! You bastard, you'll never win! You don't deserve love... you don't deserve..." The Seeker broke into angry sobs, a red faced picture of violent grief.

He spat when Darken approached. Darken paid it no mind.

He placed his hand at the Seeker's throat, stared into his eyes. He found he didn't have to do anything to call forth the power. It was just there, it began as soon as skin contact was made.

"Command me, Confessor."

"Tell me, Richard," Darken said, walking to the plank where Kahlan Amnell was still chained, "what are your feelings for this woman?"

Richard smiled, eager to tell all to his master. "I love her, master. But not as much as you." Richard corrected with sudden concern, "I could never love anyone as much as you, master."

Darken closed his eyes.

What do you know about love, except that you will never feel it?

Darken placed his hand at the former Confessor's neck, calloused fingers caressing soft skin. "What would you do with her were you in my position?"

"She is beautiful, master. And strong, and smart. I would make her my queen."

Tempting... and it would of course guarantee an heir with Confessor powers. He could not be certain that he himself would breed true, but Kahlan... stripped of her gift or not, her children would be Confessors.

He turned to Richard, a dark hungry part of him needing to hear the answer to one more question. "How would it make you feel, Seeker, to see her in my arms, to know that she loved me more than she had ever loved you?"

All chose the Seeker, all followed the Seeker, all loved the Seeker, the bastard son of a horrible man.

The bastard prince who was crowned with laurels he had never worked for. Never slaved for. Never striven for again and again, only to be found wanting.

"Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy, master. I will serve you forever."

The answer he expected. Had thought he wanted.

There were ashes in his mouth. His victory was hollow.

Kahlan Amnell woke up.

He could see it, the moment she realized her power was gone. A twitch of the lips, widened pupils, a darting glance to Richard.

"No," she choked, a strangled whisper. "No. No!"

And suddenly Darken was alive again, victory sweet again.

He wanted peace and love. But peace could never be appreciated without strife. Love was worth nothing without hatred.

Darken savored the dawning horror, the paralyzed look of fear as he tightened his fingers around Kahlan's throat.

"What do you know about love?" he asked in his silkiest tone before his eyes swirled black.

"I love you, master," was her reply.

He shut his soul against the emptiness as he gazed upon his first devotees. They both stared back at him as if he were the Creator incarnate.

He hadn't expected the flat ring, the bitter taste that confessing his enemies would bring.

"Kahlan," he said.

"Yes master?"

"You and Richard will live with me always as my family. You will marry him and be happy."

"Yes, master."

Darken watched her smile at him, still gazing at him longingly though she had just promised herself to another.