Title: Sharper than a Serpent's Tooth - Complete
Pairing: Darken/Kahlan with past references to Darken/Cara and Richard/Kahlan
Length: 6800~
Rating: T
Spoilers: Set in the "Reckoning" AU with facts learned in "Eternity"
Warning: Discussion of character death and suicide
This has been an amazing journey and I couldn't have made it without the help and support of so many of you.
Thanks to
melt_in2_me for being the first to read my rough draft and encouraging me that there was a story here to be told. Thanks to
pristineungift for cheering me on after I started to post and for beta'ing chapters 4 through 14.
Thanks to
hrhrionastar and
meridian_rose for being loyal and supportive readers of this story since the beginning. Their comments and support have meant more than I can say.
Thanks to
dorothydeath for beta'ing chapter 15.
Read chapter 26 - Choice (Part I) here Choice (Part II)
Hopeless and too exhausted to argue, Rachel shut her eyes - and let go as the future swept over her.
++++++
Unafraid, Rachel stood in her father’s library, arguing, cajoling, persuading. His expression was tight with frustration and disbelief. She was telling him she would never allow Richard to be confessed, that she would refuse the Power of Orden.
He didn’t want to listen, but she refused to give up. Someday he would understand about Richard. She was sure of it.
+++
Rachel sat at her mother’s bedside, dabbing a moist cloth against Kahlan’s forehead as she struggled for breath. Sunlight streamed through the window, but brought little comfort as she watched her mother die. Alice sobbed behind her, leaning over to close her mistress’s eyes.
+++
Rachel was scribbling furiously in a journal, recording everything she could remember about her encounter with Richard and Cara. She was frustrated that Father was so stubborn, but she wasn’t going to give up. Someday he would understand. She was certain of it.
+++
Rachel held her baby sister in her arms, marveling at the tiny, perfect fingers and toes. Her father refused to have anything to do with the child, but had grudgingly allowed her to care for the babe. When Rachel asked how he could love one daughter but not the other, he gave no answer.
After much deliberation she had chosen a name. Amanda - worthy of being loved.
+++
Rachel was gazing up at Jonathon, her husband, as he regarded her with love-struck eyes. She tried to quell the sadness in her heart at what he could have been, and resolved that she would make a life for both of them. It was her duty, and she owed him more than she could ever repay. Together, they would love and raise Amanda.
They would be a family.
+++
Rachel struggled in childbirth, wracked by pain that left her gasping. Finally, exhausted from labor, she fell back against the pillows, only to see the healer shake her head with sorrow. The child had come too soon.
Her husband and father comforted and cossetted her, but her father’s eyes were dark with worry when he told her there would be no more children.
+++
Rachel leaned over the table, urging her father to consider the future, trying to convince him to prepare for Richard. His face was set stubbornly, but he didn’t turn away. He was beginning to listen.
+++
Rachel was fighting to breathe as the flames licked through the curtains, the tapestries and finally the bedding. She heard Jonathon calling her name, but she couldn’t answer. The smoke filled her throat as the world turned white.
+++
Father’s face was lined with grief and defeat as he stroked the cheek of the marble effigy. He leaned over to kiss Rachel’s likeness before leaving the crypt.
+++
Jonathan and Miranda were getting married. He wore the insignia of a general, but that was immaterial on this day of joy.
Arriving at their new home, Jonathon laughed as he swung first Miranda, then a giggling Amanda, over the threshold to start their life together as a family. Jonathon was the only father the little girl had ever known.
+++
Father sat alone in his study, lost in thought, as he turned the pages of Rachel’s journal.
He was worried about what would happen after his death. Richard wouldn’t arrive for another thirty-five years.
Would his brother have the slightest idea of how to rule? Would he be wise enough to seek Cara’s loyalty?
Heaving a resigned sigh, he sent a retainer to fetch General Egremont. It was time to tell Jonathon about Richard.
+++
Jonathon listened as his king told him everything that must be done, nodding in solemn agreement. He would serve his king as loyally as his father ever had, even beyond death. He had once made a promise to Rachel, and he had never forgotten it, even after he had been released from the fog of confession.
He owed it to Rachel, to his king and to Amanda.
He would not fail.
+++
Father dropped the quill for a moment to rub at his eyes. It was getting harder for him to see but he could show no sign of weakness.
His journal lay open on the table in front of him. This book and Rachel’s were secrets known only to himself and General Egremont.
He longed for his bed but there was still so much more to write. With grim amusement he wondered if Richard would be willing to read anything written by the monster, Darken Rahl.
There was still twenty-five years left. It seemed so impossibly far away.
+++
It was Amanda’s wedding day. Dancing with her father she laughed at his efforts to perform the intricate steps. He smiled back at her, basking in her happiness.
Afterward, content to lay her head against her husband’s shoulder, she absently caressed one of her wedding gifts. The amber pendant felt so warm under her fingers.
Despite her father’s high position, Amanda had only seen the king from afar, and didn’t understand why he had given her such a great honor.
It looked very old. She wondered who had once worn it.
+++
Father could scarcely make out the words on the page. Not only were his eyes failing, but his joints were so swollen and sore that he could barely hold the quill in his shaking hand. His writing had become too cramped to read. He would soon have to start dictating the instructions to Egremont.
The book wouldn’t do Richard any good if he couldn’t read it.
+++
Father had ordered everyone but Jonathon out of his chambers. Sheer willpower had carried him into his late eighties, but there was little time left to him.
Once they were alone, Jonathon drew a chair up against the bed, ready to listen to his master’s final words.
It was time to tell Egremont about Cara and her son. The general would have to know everything before Richard arrived, even the darkest secret of all.
+++
Jonathon stood watch beside the crypt. His king had been buried only days before and Egremont had been named Lord Protector.
He would need all the strength at his command to hold the kingdom together over the next seven years.
He prayed that he would prove worthy. He hoped that Richard would listen - and read.
As he turned to leave, Jonathon paused beside Rachel’s effigy. For a few moments the years dropped away from his face as he touched the cold marble. It was hard to believe that she had been gone for over twenty-five years.
+++
Magic flashed over the mountainside of West Granthia where Jonathon waited and watched. He had not been certain of the exact day so had been camped here for weeks. He missed his wife, his children, his grandchildren. Maybe when things were in order he could spend more time with them.
With a crack of thunder two figures appeared in a glare of light.
Finding himself surrounded by soldiers, Richard Cypher Rahl instinctively reached for the sword that wasn’t there. It took four men to restrain a snarling, kicking Cara from lunging at the Seeker.
His king had insisted that Richard would need her, and Jonathon would obey. She would not be hurt.
Stepping up to Richard with brisk assurance Egremont held his fist to his heart and dropped to his knees. His men followed his lead. Richard and Cara could only gape in bewilderment.
The next Lord Rahl had finally arrived.
+++
Richard knelt by Kahlan’s tomb, his face streaked with tears. Cara stood at attention by his side, no longer restrained. She stared impassively at the tomb which held the father of her child.
Neither of them glanced at Rachel’s effigy.
She meant nothing to them.
+++
Jonathon was trying to get Lord Rahl to see reason. Richard wanted vengeance for Kahlan, not seeming to comprehend that everyone at fault had died years before.
Screaming a curse, he had thrown Father’s journal at Egremont, saying that he would never do the bidding of a monster.
He refused to believe that Darken Rahl had been his brother.
Richard wanted no part of being Lord Rahl.
Jonathon picked up the book and handed it back to his king.
He was a patient man.
+++
Richard stood by Kahlan’s tomb, mournful and pensive, his brother’s journal in his hand. He was still staggering under the burden of a duty he had never anticipated, and for which he was totally unprepared.
He would never understand how or why the man he most hated had come to the point of recognizing Richard as his heir.
Reluctantly, he thumbed back to the first page of the journal and started to read.
Dear Brother -
+++
A roar of acclamation greeted Lord Richard Rahl and First Mistress Cara as they strode out on the balcony of the People’s Palace. Richard seemed uncomfortable in his royal garb but acknowledged his people with a smile. Stumbling a bit over the first few words, he gained confidence as he spoke of a new era for his countrymen.
His posture still straight and proud despite his advancing years, Jonathon watched as his efforts were finally rewarded.
He had fulfilled his duty to a king, and to a girl long dead.
Richard would never know about Rachel’s efforts on his behalf, and might not have thanked her if he had.
There were some secrets that could never be shared.
++++++
At the sight of the small crumpled form lying in the grass, Darken felt his heart jump into his throat. He had known where to search, but had feared that Rachel’s body might have been swept downstream if she had drowned herself, but maybe she had found another way, or perhaps she had been killed.
“Alix - Over here! Now!”
The Mord’Sith was hard on his heels, with Jonathon close behind, as Darken tore over the gnarled bridge. Scooping Rachel up in his arms, he crushed her to his breast, where she stirred - warm, breathing, alive.
At that moment, nothing else mattered.
“What were you doing? What were you doing?” he whispered into her ear, barely coherent, pressing frantic kisses against her cheeks, her brow, the crown of her head.
“It’s all right, father. I’m fine,” Rachel said softly. “I’m not afraid anymore.”
Drawing away slightly, Darken cupped his daughter’s face in his hands, a question in his eyes that could not be uttered. He had never asked forgiveness from anyone, and even now couldn’t force himself to say the words. Rachel was a Confessor. She would understand.
She smiled at him and nodded, then peered over his shoulder. “Father, there was an old woman who helped me last night. Is she still asleep?”
“There’s nobody here, Rachel. You were alone when we found you.” Darken gestured for Alix and Jonathon for check the surroundings. Both came back in short order, shaking their heads. Jonathon couldn’t take his eyes off Rachel and resumed his hovering stance behind them. It was very irritating, but Darken supposed he would have to learn to put up with it.
“There’s nobody else here, my Lord, “ Alix reported. “But I did find this. It looks as if one of our quarry escaped yesterday.” She showed him a broken arrow shaft, stained dark with blood. “Someone must have removed it.”
Darken waved her off. He wasn’t interested in the hunt.
“Father, I’d like to look for her myself. I want to thank her.” Rachel spoke with a quiet assurance he had never heard before. “Then I want to go home. There are things we need to talk about.” She regarded him steadily.
That was certainly an understatement.
Reluctant to let his daughter out of his sight again, Darken grudgingly loosened his embrace and watched as she marched toward the forest. “Don’t go too far, Rachel.”
Her voice wafted back to him. “Don’t worry, father. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
+++
Rachel scoured the line of trees, but Ida seemed to have vanished into the mist. Disappointed, but not surprised, she wondered if the woman would ever make herself known again.
Retracing her steps, she pondered over the loss of the burden that had haunted her since birth.
Fear had been Rachel’s constant companion since birth. She had always been afraid of displeasing one parent by loving the other, afraid of disappointing them both, afraid of faltering in her duty to her mother, afraid of angering her father, afraid of her own powers. Every decision in her life had been driven by fear.
Until, with Ida’s help, she had faced the demon and cut the chains that weighed her down.
Rachel knew that grief and pain lay in wait and it saddened her, but there was also joy. There would be days when her old enemy stalked her again, but now she could see the hope that shone beyond.
Her thoughts turned to the Seeker and how their lives had revolved around each other, even though they would never meet.
Richard would always be more of an idea than a man to her, and could never be her only reason for living. There were others who needed her just as much, and on whom his future also depended.
Rachel loved her father, as capricious, selfish and cruel as he was. She knew he cared for her and that he craved her love in return. He needed her help in so many ways.
She loved Jonathon, marveling at his courage and loyalty. He, more than anyone, would give up his life for Richard, and would never be thanked for it.
Rachel would never bear a living child, but she would have a sister to love, even if father rejected her. Maybe, in his heart, he knew that Amanda would have a happier life away from him.
As if summoned by her thoughts, his voice sliced through the dawn “Rachel, It would be nice if we had the luxury of waiting for you to explore, but I do have three territories to rule.” She smiled as how quickly he had reverted to form.
“I’m coming, father,” she called, picking up her pace.
What about your mother, Rachel?
Startled, Rachel glanced over at the trees. “Ida? Is that you?”
Can you finally forgive your mother?
She blinked back sudden tears. Why had she always found it so hard to love her mother? Even as a small girl she had always run to her father first. Had she felt the coldness even then?
The distance?
Was that why it had been so hard to forgive herself?
Let it go.
“I forgive you, mother, “she whispered, and the last link of her chains fell away.
“Rachel” her father’s voice came from the distance, edged with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I just wanted to say good-bye.”
It was time to go home.
END
A/N:
Flidhais (Ida) is the name of a Celtic woodland goddess. Traditionally, she sometimes assumes the form of a doe.
The white hart or stag is prominent in mythology and folklore. To the ancient Celts, the animal was a symbol of doom, a messenger sent from the Otherworld. The sight of a white hart was thought to be a sign that a profound change was about to occur in a person’s life. In Authurian legend, the sighting of a white hart was a signal that Arthur and his knights were to set out on a new quest.
Read Choice (part I) here