fic: storm born - chapter forty-six

[morgenwrites]

Title: Storm Born
Author: Morgen
Summary: It was supposed to be their one chance to be together.  Instead it plunged them straight into a nightmare.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTS or profit from it in any way.  Just worship it from afar.
Rating: PG-14

XLVI. POISON

Richard counted the days at first, imagining Kahlan’s recovery as a foolish handful of weeks. For a time he thought they might be married even before the summer heat set in. But she was slow to regain her strength, and he watched her smile begin to fade a little more with each passing day. She stopped speaking of their wedding as happening soon, and murmured only that it would happen someday, when she was well again. Then, other things began to change. Zedd claimed it was the poison exercising its hold on her any way it could. She had found a way to wake up despite its presence, and so it dragged her down in different ways.

The nightmares started a little less than a month after Amara’s birth. He would awaken with a jolt to the sound of Kahlan screaming and thrashing about in her sleep, and when he tried to wake her, she would cower on the mattress, drenched in sweat and trembling. Always Amara would startle awake at the sound and begin to cry, and Richard would be torn between the two of them, trying to comfort both at once.

In the beginning, he tried to reason with Kahlan while rocking Amara, but that never worked. No amount of talking could break Kahlan free of the terror that held her. She would stare past him with unseeing eyes, weeping and shivering. As long as her mother wept, so did Amara, and they had no peace.

One desperate night, he leaned over and unbuttoned Kahlan’s gown while she trembled against him, guiding the frightened child to her breast. Amara quieted at once, and a moment later, Kahlan was no longer sobbing, but weeping silently. He held her close, whispering love and safety in her ear. But the suckling babe seemed to ground her like nothing he said could, and soon she had stopped shaking and drifted back to sleep.

The nightmares didn’t stop, but he got better at handling them. At getting Amara to her mother’s breast fast, and then holding them both close until they stilled. In some respects, that was the easy part. Kahlan only ever vaguely remembered the nightmares, and often the days were a torment all of their own. There were days, whole days, where she would lie on her side staring at the wall, and saying not a word. She would not eat, no matter how much he pleaded, and she would not smile, not even for Amara. She would only lay there, her face empty, her eyes dark with grief.

“I don’t understand,” he said to Zedd one day when Kahlan had lain there wordless all morning, her back to him. “It’s not like her.” They paced the narrow hallway outside her room.

“Of course it isn’t like her,” said the old wizard, pausing to smile at Amara when she grabbed his nose. “It isn’t her, Richard. That’s what you have to understand. It isn’t Kahlan.”

He knew the answer, though it did little to comfort him. “The poison. It’s still there.”

Zedd nodded. “And as potent as it was the day Amara was born. It still flows through her veins, black and necrotic. That she wakes up each day is extraordinary. And when she finds the strength to eat and talk to you, and kiss Amara, that is a miracle. I have no idea how she is managing, but somehow her body is finding a way to live with this.”

Richard glanced back at the closed door, thinking of the sullen woman who lay behind it, staring empty misery at a wall. “She’s so thin.”

“She’s nursing a babe that should probably still be fed by someone else, and the poison…”

“I know,” he interrupted, not wanting to be told again. “It keeps her weak.”

---

But by the third month, she was insisting she was stronger. Though she still looked more like a waif than a woman, she could carry Amara now, and she sometimes took walks with him down the stone corridor outside her room. It was a tedious path, and it often ended with her leaning heavily on his arm, but it felt like progress. He was eager to show her the rest of Isham. The city was one giant fortress filled with a labyrinth of walkways and secret rooms, and at the very center like a treasure sat a courtyard of golden sands and brilliant sunshine.

That was where Kahlan found him one day, their babe in her arms. He’d been sparring with Cara under the heat of the summer sun, and was sweating heavily. She had a lifetime’s experience fighting on sand, and used it to her advantage. He was still getting used to the way it shifted constantly beneath his feet.

He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Kahlan, trying to hide his astonishment at her appearance. “I thought you were sleeping,” he called.

“I woke up.” She tightened her grip at Amara. “I was watching you from the window. I need to start sparring again.”

Richard frowned, uneasiness creeping over him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

She was still too thin for her own dresses. The one she wore had belonged to some other, smaller woman. It was a pale shade of blue that made her eyes seem all the brighter, but it also made her look like quite a different woman from the one who’d first held a dagger to his throat that day in Westland.

Still, she fixed him with a narrow stare. “How else am I to get my strength back?” When he wasn’t fast enough with an answer, she went on. “Cara can mind the baby while we spar.”

Cara looked incensed. “I’m no nurse maid.”

But Nox, who’d been watching from the only shady spot in the blazing courtyard, called out, “That’s not just an ordinary babe. That’s a Rahl child.” He got to his feet, sauntering towards her. “If you aren’t up for the challenge, then I offer my services as Amara’s body guard. The babe will be in good hands with me, Lord Rahl.”

Cara bristled, and, to Richard’s amazement, stalked over to Kahlan and snatched Amara out of her arms. “I was their protector first,” she said to Nox. “You’d make a poor replacement.” They sniped at each other like a pair of schoolboys, but the looks they exchanged burned as hot as the day. Together they took Amara over to the shaded alcove built into the courtyard wall. Richard noticed that they sat much closer together than necessary, though their bodies didn’t quite touch.

He turned back to Kahlan to find her pulling out her daggers. It filled him with a sense of dread. She ought to be weary just from the journey down to the courtyard, but there she stood, ready to fight. “Kahlan, are you sure you’re up for this?”

She answered by shooting him a determined glare and attacking, blades first. Reluctantly he swung his sword around to block her, resigning himself to a quick session; she would only become angry if he backed away now. Though she was a little rusty, she fought well, her grace and skill with the daggers remaining. Soon they were flying around the courtyard, their blades ringing, both of them breathing hard. There was a light in her eyes that he hadn’t realized he’d missed before. It was the happiest he’d seen her without Amara in her arms.

He held back, trying to keep things easy for her, but she kept attacking at a furious pace, until suddenly she faltered. She froze in the middle of the courtyard, a pained expression flitting across her face. Her breath was still coming fast, but instead of the flushed cheeks she’d had a moment before, all the color had drained from her face. He remembered all too well the last time she looked so pale.

Fear tied his belly in knots. “Kahlan?” He took a step towards her. Her daggers were still up.

“I’m fine. We can keep fighting,” she said, but her voice was thin and reedy.

“Kahlan…”

She spun towards him, daggers glinting, but the next time their blades crossed, hers slipped from her hand. He caught her as she sagged to her knees.

“Richard.” Her breath was hot on his neck, and he heard her second dagger fall. “I don’t,” she gasped, “I can’t breathe.” He hoisted her in his arms and whirled around. Cara and Nox had gotten to their feet. Cara still held Amara, so he turned to the general.

“Find Zedd,” he shouted.

The wizard met them in the cool damp of a nearby hallway, the thick layers of stone protecting them from the midday heat. Richard had laid Kahlan down on a plain wooden bench and crouched beside her. Her breathing was shallow, her heart racing. She felt feverish; the hair on her brow damp with sweat. Her eyes were closed, but she clutched Richard’s hand and he clung back, grateful for the proof she was still with him.

Zedd knelt on the cold stone floor in deep concentration, the air around them crackling with magic. His hand hovered over Kahlan’s racing heart a long time before he was able to slow it. Gradually her breathing evened out, and a faint, pink tinge returned to her cheeks.

“Kahlan?” Richard whispered her name, and her eyes fluttered open. He all but sobbed with relief before turning to Zedd. “What happened?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“She pushed herself too hard,” said his grandfather quietly. “Exercising out in the heat of a D’Haran summer is a lot for anyone to take, and it let the poison get a stronger hold. I can feel it stirring in her veins. She needs rest.”

Richard nodded and looked down at Kahlan, but she bit her lip and turned her head away. She’d put on the impassive mask of a Confessor, and he could read nothing in her face. His heart began to beat heavy in his chest; he had the uneasy sense that her mood was already starting to turn.

It wasn’t until she’d been carried upstairs and carefully tucked into bed that he dared to say anything more. He paced the length of the room and back twice before stopping at the bed. Kahlan lay staring at the ceiling, a sullen expression turning down her mouth. He wondered how much of this was her, and how much the work of the poison.

“You can’t do that to me again,” he said softly, perching on the mattress by her knees.

Her gaze flicked to him, but she said nothing. “Kahlan, I mean it.” He reached for her hand and pushed on, needing some response. His own heart was still racing nearly as fast as hers had been. “You need to be careful.”

She worked her fingers free from his grasp. Her voice when she spoke was flat and almost resentful. “I’m not going to stop sparring. I’ll find someone else to partner with me if you won’t.”

It was exactly the answer he’d been afraid of. Richard raked a hand back through his hair, and drew in a deep breath to calm himself. “You have to see how you’re pushing yourself too hard. Spirits, you collapsed out there!”

She ignored him. “Amara was born over three months ago. I wasn’t sparring with you even a quarter of an hour. I have to be able to defend myself.”

“You’re inside a fortress, Kahlan. No one is coming for you anymore! You’re safe here.”

She scooted away from him, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “I have to fight,” she said, but all he noticed was how she sagged exhausted against the headboard.

“You have to stay alive.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m doing it again tomorrow.”

Never before could he remember feeling angry at her. “No,” he said through clenched teeth. “No, you’re not. Even if I have to lock you in here myself, you’re not doing it. I want Amara to still have a mother tomorrow. Spirits, I want to still have the woman who’s going to be my wife tomorrow.”

She glared at him, her blue eyes blazing. “You can’t lock me up. I’m not your wife yet. I’m not your property.” She all but spat her words at him, and Richard turned away from her to keep from shouting.

“I never said you were my property,” he said at last, his voice one of measured calm. “But you’re not well. You have to see that.”

“I feel fine,” she snapped.

“Fine?” He spun back around, slamming his hand against the stone wall. His palm throbbed, but the pain barely registered. “You feel fine?” He snorted derisively. “Wait here. Not that you have a choice. I doubt you have the strength to stand right now.” Richard stormed out of the room, letting the door slam shut despite his sleeping daughter. When he returned lugging a bewildered Zedd behind him, Kahlan was staring at the wall.

“Show her,” he said, grabbing her arm and thrusting it towards his grandfather. “Show her what you used to show me. Show her the poison.”

Zedd looked slowly back and forth between the two of them. They had never shown her before. Kahlan hadn’t asked, and neither Richard nor his grandfather had volunteered, not wanting to distress her when she was still struggling to stay conscious for more than a few hours at a time.

But this time the wizard nodded his head. “Perhaps I was wrong not to show you sooner. You deserve to know what you’re up against.” He traced a finger down the length of Kahlan’s arm, from elbow to wrist. Though she hadn’t said anything, she’d turned her head and was watching him intently. At his touch, her veins darkened, running black beneath her flesh. Her skin turned an unappealing shade of mottled brown and gray, as if her flesh rotted away from below the surface. He saw a shiver run through her, but she didn’t pull her arm back. For a long moment, the room was silent as they stared at what the Keeper had wrought inside her, then Zedd tapped her wrist again, and her skin settled back to normal.

“That is the poison,” said Zedd quietly. “I can draw it near to the surface, but it prefers to hide itself deep within you, weakening you in any way it can. You must give yourself time to adapt, dear one. The poison has not yet begun to fade, and I fear I cannot promise that it ever will.” His pale eyes were fixed on her, calm and steely like some bitter, windless sea. “Accept that this may haunt you the rest of your life, or push yourself again like you did today and die from it. It’s your choice.” Kahlan drew her arm close to her body as if it was injured, and said nothing. Richard stared at her openly, but she would not meet his gaze.

“Get some rest,” continued Zedd. He glanced between the two of them, adding, “I think it’s best I leave you two alone.” He retreated without another word, and Richard wondered just how plainly their fight was written across their faces.

Silence fell with the closing door, and he knew Kahlan would not break it. He took a tentative step towards her, “I’m sorry,” he offered.

She turned her head away from him, but not before he glimpsed the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Kahlan…” He settled in the chair beside her bed and reached for her hand with brave fingers. She didn’t pull away, and the relief he felt spurred him on. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I was scared, that’s all.” Still, she said nothing. “Talk to me,” he begged.

She bit her lip. “What do you want me to say?” she asked at last, her voice very small. “That I’ll lie here forever? I want to be who I was before.”

“I know.” He scooted closer, the chair legs scraping against the floor. “I know.” Kahlan rolled onto her side, tugging him down onto the bed beside her. She was still so thin and frail; it made him fear to touch her lest she break. “Maybe you can’t be the Kahlan you were before. But the Kahlan you are now, I love her too.”

Kahlan pursed her lips together and said nothing. He reached out and twined a strand of her dark hair around his fingers. The world had become so peaceful in the aftermath of their daughter’s birth. Nowhere did banelings walk among the living, and the stray D’Harans, who before had been lawless terrors, were being rounded up by Nox’s men, and sworn into the service of the new Lord Rahl.

He had left it all largely in the hands of Nox and Cara. They had an innate understanding of the D’Haran people that he could never hope to match, even if he had an entire lifetime to devote to the task. And so it was that D’Hara was rising from its ruins with a Mord-Sith and a wild looking general at the head. He had a hunch they’d begun to enjoy working together in more ways than one, though he’d made no mention of it to either of them. They were so adept at managing D’Hara that, truthfully, there was very little he yet needed to do, but he could still feel the land coming together around him. The people were calmer and happier. More and more of those who’d taken shelter inside of Isham were venturing out to reclaim the land the banelings had stolen. Each day was bright with hope, and yet Kahlan lay like the dark heart at the very center of it all, and he did not know what to do for her.

He was surprised when she finally spoke again. “I wonder how it goes in Aydindril.” Her voice was very soft, her eyes distant.

“I’m sure it goes well,” he said after hesitating a moment. “You said there is a council who decides things in your absence, right?”

She sighed heavily, draping an arm over her brow. “A very long absence.”

“Do you want to go to Aydindril?”

“I can’t,” she snapped, her words brittle. “Aydindril is weeks away, even on a fast horse. Amara is too young, and I can’t even make it to the end of the corridor without tiring. I cannot go.” She lifted her hand from her eyes to look at him, and her eyes were dark with guilt. He thought of how much he had come to care for the D’Harans already, though he had known them only a few months. Kahlan had served the people of the Midlands since childhood. He’d been a fool not to raise the subject with her before.

He thought of Cara and Nox, and how much they helped him. “Then we must send someone in your stead. Zedd would go.”

Kahlan lifted an eyebrow, looking more than a little intrigued by the idea. “Are you sure he would?”

“Yes. In a heartbeat.” He sat up and grasped her hand, his mind already racing over the orders he’d need to give. “And I can send a contingent of D’Harans with him just in case. He can bring you back a full report.”

A small smile was playing around the corners of her mouth. Though her eyes were still sad, it was something. “Yes, I suppose that will work. Until I can go myself.”

He tried to imagine the vast city that had been her home for so long. “Do you miss Aydindril?”

“Sometimes,” she said quietly. “Yes, sometimes I do. But sometimes I forget to think of it at all.” She sounded equally distressed by both.

He hesitated, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “Would you want to get married there?”

She made a face. “No. It wouldn’t be a wedding. It would be a pageant. Every council member would feel duty bound to make a speech. My dress would be weighted down by so many jewels I’d be unable to move on my own, and there would be so many people to greet and thank that we would not be alone until the night was half through.” She huffed, glowering up at the ceiling as if he had insisted they be wed in Aydindril at once.

“Okay,” he said softly. She said nothing. “Is there somewhere you’d rather be wed?”

“I don’t know. Wherever you prefer.” Her voice was hollow.

“When do you want to be wed, Kahlan?” He didn’t know why he kept asking the same question again and again.

“When I’m well,” she said. It was the same answer she’d given him for nearly three months now. He sighed and nodded, resigned to the wait, but this time she went on. “When I can stay on my feet long enough to make it through the ceremony. I,” she bit her lip, looking away from him, “you don’t know how hard it was for me to make it down to the courtyard today. By the time I got there, I could barely see straight. I was so scared I’d drop Amara,” she admitted, her voice very small. “All I could think of was getting Cara to hold her.”

Richard straightened up, looking at her in surprise. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He hadn’t imagined she’d been so exhausted even before they started sparring.

She shrugged. “I wanted to prove myself wrong.”

She’d collapsed instead. He leaned down, pressing his lips to her shoulder. They didn’t often lie like this, tangled close together, except when she screamed in the middle of the night, and that was different, a frantic necessity. Usually he kept to the cot and left her the bed. They weren’t wed yet, and the last thing he wanted was to push her. He let her set the pace, and sometimes they would go days at a time without sharing a single chaste kiss. But now she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair, running her thumb in circles across his scalp. She was so very dear to him.

“When Zedd leaves,” he made himself say at last. “Promise me you will be careful.”

She looked up, meeting his eyes, but she said nothing. Richard went on. “He won’t be here to heal you if... He won’t be here.” He feared to think what would have happened if Zedd hadn’t been there that afternoon to slow her racing heart.

It took a long time for her to answer, but she finally did. “I’ll be careful.”

“Even sending him away at all is a risk,” said Richard before he could stop himself. He waited for Kahlan's eyes to darken and her to turn away, but instead she nodded once.

“It’s a small risk though,” she said, “if I am careful. I have to be able to take some risks, Richard, or you might as well lock me up in a pretty cage like a bird with clipped wings.” There was such anguish in her voice that he clutched her to him.

“You’re more than that,” he said, his voice coming out low and rough. “No matter what you can do, you will always be so much more to me than that.”

She touched his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before drawing him down to her mouth.

He kissed her then a long time, while the daylight died and the room turned dark. Until their daughter woke crying for her milk, and they had to pull apart. Still, he resettled with his arms wrapped tight around them both, and his heart beat very fast through the night.