fic: storm born - chapter forty-seven
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
XLVII. REBORN
Kahlan turned to face the mirror. It was long and ornate, the carved frame wrought to resemble a wreath of desert flowers. She had asked for it under the pretense of examining her wedding dress, but the mirror had sat in her room two days already, and she still had not spoken with any of the women who’d kindly volunteered their services for the occasion. But that wasn’t the real reason she wanted the mirror.
She checked again on Amara, who lay on her belly in the middle of the room. She was scooting forward on a little mat, reaching out for a set of wooden rings Richard had carved for her. When she saw her mother watching her, Amara paused and beamed a dimpled, one-toothed smile, her dark eyes bright. Kahlan smiled back. She loved that her daughter had Richard’s eyes, though her hair was coming in darker still, almost black. Much more like her own than Richard’s lighter shade of brown. Kahlan just stared at her a moment. She could not imagine a more beautiful creature, and already she was getting so big. When Amara busied herself with the wooden rings, Kahlan at last turned back to the mirror, touching her hands to her face.
She never used to think herself vain, but she felt such a strange tug at her heart now when she studied her face. She’d been lovelier before. Of that she was certain. Now shadows lingered beneath her eyes, and her skin stayed sallow. She trailed her finger over the hollow of her cheek, and tried to smile at her reflection, but she couldn’t make her lips lift. She wondered if Richard still thought her beautiful.
Self-consciously she spun around, taking in the whole empty room. There were days when it felt like she would never escape it. She’d spent nearly six months inside recovering, and though she felt stronger now, she still tired too easily. Outside the walls of Isham, the brutal summer was fading to a warm, gentle autumn, and she had seen none of it.
She knew only tiny pieces of the world. The little she could see from her window, or hear from others sturdier on their feet than she. All was well in Aydindril, or so Zedd claimed. The council awaited the return of the Mother Confessor as soon as she felt able. Kahlan turned back to the mirror with a sigh. As soon as she felt able.
There was a heaviness in her heart that she could not shake, and she thought of the poison lingering in her veins. There were days when it made her ill, but often all she felt was weary and sad. The nightmares still came regularly, though she could remember little beyond the sounds of her own screams and a lingering sense of terror. Zedd had tried countless remedies, and she had rested days on end, just like he asked.
He told her that he thought the poison had begun to fade a little, but even that seemed tied to her mood more than anything else. These days, he instructed her to think happy thoughts as often as she could, thoughts the Keeper wouldn’t understand. As if the poison was some private battle between her and Underworld taking place in her veins. But if it was, the poison was stronger, and she could not help but feel sad.
Idly she took her mass of long, dark hair and piled it on top of her head, considering herself in the mirror. Should she marry with her hair up or down? She let go, and the strands spilled like midnight around her shoulders. She didn’t know. She was supposed to be planning a wedding, a real wedding born out of love; it was something no Confessor had ever done. She should be overjoyed. But she didn’t know. It was wearying when she thought of it at all. She wanted to blame the poison, but it was more than that. Those bitter, unending hours she’d spent down in the Underworld begging for her daughter’s death, trying to make a murderer out of the man she loved, had changed something deep inside her. She wondered if she would ever learn to smile easily again.
Kahlan tried to keep thinking of wedding plans, but her thoughts muddled and turned tedious. She hated the thought of a crowd at their wedding now, even a small one. Who would ever understand that day in the Underworld, except the two of them. All she wanted was for Richard to have a beautiful bride, and she had lost how to be that. She would look foolish in a wedding dress, gaunt and garish and unlovely. She stared back at the hollow eyed woman in the mirror, and thought a moment of smashing the glass. She stopped herself before she could raise her hand. It would only frighten Amara.
Instead, Kahlan reached for the laces on her dressing gown, returning to her real reason for the mirror. She had to do it now. Richard had traveled to the People’s Palace for the first time, the weight of a country resting on his shoulders like he was born to carry it, and she supposed he was. It had taken every argument she had to convince him she would be okay while he was gone, and even then, he’d taken his fastest horse. She had a constant ache in her chest from missing him, and the nights were bitter, frightful things, but she pushed it all away as best she could. He was expected back as soon as tomorrow, and she needed the mirror hidden away by then. He would worry half the night if he saw it.
With a deep breath, she pulled the ties to the gown, and let it slip down her shoulders to pool at her elbows. The panels of delicate, rose-colored silk fell open, leaving her naked before the mirror. She stared at herself, at the ribs that showed too bold beneath her skin, and the thin, silvery lines that ran faint as a spider web across her belly. She touched her thumb to them. Amara had given her those. The skin was a little looser there than it had been before, as if it no longer knew what to do, now that the child it had stretched to cover was gone from her womb. Even her breasts were different, heavier, the nipples darker. She looked thin and worn, and she wondered what Richard would think. If he would want to make love to her on their wedding night. A shiver ran through her at the thought, and she could not look away from the mirror.
She was still staring at her reflection when she heard the door creak and start to open. The only person who presumed to enter without knocking was Richard. Her heart racing, Kahlan spun around, pulling her gown back on just as he stepped into the room. The ties all hung undone, but she clasped the fabric tight to herself and tried to smile normally. Richard gave her a curious look, but Amara had begun to babble loudly at the sight of him, waving a drool-covered, wooden ring in his direction. He went to her, hoisting his daughter high in the air and showering her face with kisses.
“Hello, love,” he cooed, bouncing her again in his arms. Amara giggled with delight. “Your father missed you so much, yes, I did.” Kahlan smiled at the two of them. They were so beautiful together.
“You’re back early,” she said, putting her back to the mirror as if that could hide it. “We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I rode through most of the night. I wanted to get back to the two of you.” He’d changed from his old woodsman’s clothing to a pair of black breeches and a red tunic Nox had provided for him, and he looked the part of Lord Rahl right down to the tips of his new, black leather boots. She wanted to ask how it had gone at the People’s Palace, but he stepped closer, scrutinizing the mirror.
“That’s new,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.
Kahlan nodded and clutched her gown tighter. “I thought it looked nice in here.” Though he wasn’t a Confessor, she swore he could sense her lying to him all the same. She wished all the ties on her gown weren’t undone.
“Kahlan?” He shifted Amara to his other arm and gave her his amulet to play with. “Is everything okay?”
“I just…” she stammered, feeling her face heat. “I thought it would be good for looking at wedding dresses.”
“You did?” His voice was hopeful, but his eyes remained skeptical.
“No. I don’t know.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with a hasty hand. “I want you to take it away. Please.”
He nodded once. “Okay.” With a kiss to Amara’s brow, he set her back down on the mat beside her wooden rings. “What’s wrong?” he asked. His dark eyes seemed to pour right through her.
She glanced back at the mirror. Now it showed him standing beside her. He looked so unchanged by all that had happened. She shook her head. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes.” His answer was instant and unwavering. “You are beautiful.” He stepped closer. “What is all this about?”
“I was more beautiful when we first met.”
“Kahlan…” His face creased with worry.
She did not know what made her fingers so brave, but she let go of the dressing gown, and let it slide like a waterfall to pool at her bare feet. She heard his breath come in a sharp gasp, and felt it in her heart. His gaze flicked up and down her body, and she shivered deep inside.
“Would you marry me as I am now?”
“Yes.” His voice was a whisper, and he looked up into her eyes. “Don’t you know I would?”
She trembled, feeling terribly bare before him. She looked down at her gown and wished it didn’t lie so far away. “I don’t… I looked better before.”
He gave a shake of his head. “Not to me.” He cleared his throat. She caught a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “You are beautiful, but I do not love you for your beauty.”
Kahlan stared at her feet, her words coming out mumbled. “I cannot be who I was before the Underworld.”
“I know.” It was such a simple answer. He always made the whole, confusing world sound so simple. He reached for the edge of his tunic, pulling it off over his head. She took a step back, half afraid, but he just let it fall to the ground and stood there bare-chested before her. “You’re not the only one changed by that day,” he said softly, and her gaze dropped down to an ugly scar she had never seen before. It ran ragged across the hard muscles of his abdomen. She knew at once that it was there that he had stabbed himself, welcoming death for the chance to find her.
With a tentative hand, she reached out and pressed her fingers against the line of red, ruined skin. “There was too much magic involved, from the sword and the Fatal Grace, for it to mend properly when Cara revived me,” he said.
“You never mentioned it before.” She traced the length of the scar with her fingertip.
He shrugged. “It’s a part of life. That’s all. Do you love me less for it?”
The question was absurd. “No,” she said indignantly. “Of course not.”
Richard smiled. “How many more ways do I have to say it for you to believe? You cannot confess me, and it has nothing to do with how much I like the way you look in your skirts. Or out of them,” he added, a bright blush burning across his face.
Kahlan bit her lip, reminded of just how painfully naked she was. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling her face heat. Richard dropped to his knees at her feet, and then he was pulling her dressing gown back up around her. Tenderly he tied the ribbons into bows, and when he was finished, he touched her cheek before letting his hands fall to his sides. She breathed easier. He was always setting her at ease. And suddenly she knew, without a doubt, that there was nothing she could say that he would not understand, if she could just find the courage to open her mouth and say it.
“I,” she took a breath, “I can’t plan a wedding. Us…” She gestured between the two of them. “This isn’t for any crowd, but…I don’t want to keep waiting. We’ll wait forever if we wait on the poison any longer. I want to marry you, Richard, before the week is through.”
His whole face split into a smile that touched her soul, and he nodded, leaning forward until their foreheads met. He would take her as she was, and she would do the same.
“Have you thought of a place?” she asked, her voice quiet. She wondered if they would be wed here in this fortress that sometimes felt more like a prison than her salvation.
But Richard hummed low in his throat. “I have.” And then he was tugging her by her hand towards the wardrobe in the corner. “Get dressed and I’ll show you it now. It’s not far from here.” It was the first time he’d sounded so eager in a long time, and she dressed herself in a simple gown without once looking in the mirror.
---
He’d found it months ago, he said, but had wanted to wait for the right moment to show her. She knew the truth was that she had been too sullen to appreciate it before, but he spoke without reproach. They set out across the golden sands, Kahlan on a slow, gentle horse with Amara in her arms. It was a long time since she’d been outside the walls of Isham, and she turned her face towards the perfect, spreading sky.
The place he spoke of with breathless excitement lay not quite an hour’s ride west of the fortress, but at her pace, it took nearly two. She didn’t mind this time. Amara was enchanted by everything she saw, and unlike the last time she’d rode out across the desert, her belly swollen with child, she looked not once over her shoulder in fear. Richard was giddy with delight the whole time, and she breathed it in. His laughter made her feel lighter, almost as if the poison was fading away, and she forgot to worry about just when she would begin to feel weak again.
Their destination appeared quite suddenly, a patch of green between huge, yellow desert flowers, leading the way towards reedy grasses. Further along, the sand gave way to real dirt, and actual trees reached for the sky, still green with summer’s leaves. The oasis was all that Richard called it, and he beamed when he lifted her down from the horse.
“You found trees,” she said, plucking a leaf from a branch and holding it out to Amara.
“I did.” He ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she said, and she did. As much for how it delighted him as for the wild, green beauty of the place.
He took her hand, as eager as a little child. “Can you walk a little farther? There’s something else I want you to see.”
And she could. He had to hold Amara, and she had to lean on him quite a bit as they made their way through the trees, but this time it didn’t make her feel as if something died inside her. She was only grateful for the strength of his arm and the way he whispered in her ear when he lifted her over snarled vines.
And then they were on the edge of a clearing ringed in wildflowers, and there in its midst stood a humble cabin.
“Someone lives here?” she asked, turning to him in surprise.
Richard shook his head. “Just dreams at the moment,” he murmured. “But I thought, maybe, Isham has a lot of memories…” He trailed off, and she wondered if he knew how she found it her cell most days. She walked closer to the house, pressing a hand to the sturdy logs. Everything about it reminded her of the Richard she’d first met; a sweet, foolish, hopeful boy. He was still there then, somewhere deep inside. Perhaps she was too.
“You built this place,” she realized, tracing the grain in the wood.
“The men helped a lot,” he said at once. “I thought, well, I know it isn’t much, but I thought we could use a place just for the three of us. These lands are safe now, and we need time, before Aydindril and the People’s Palace and…” Again he let his words die on his lips, but she knew what went unsaid. They needed time to heal, before they went back to living lives for other people. Before she let her mind turn to all the children she still must bear for the sake of her line, and so Amara would never be a Confessor alone. She needed to learn how to just love this man and be whole again, be perfectly ordinary.
She stretched out her arms to the two of them, Richard and her daughter, and when she laid her head against his chest, she could feel his heart beat. She listened to the sound. They were all alive, and she could live this life, whatever it held. “It sounds perfect to me,” she whispered.
They sat a long time in the clearing, letting Amara explore the grass with chubby hands, and watching the setting sun dance a fleeting moment of glory across their home. Kahlan leaned back in Richard’s arms, and she forgot to feel weary until she was back in bed inside the stone walls of Isham, closing her eyes to the night. For the first time in many months, no nightmares came to wake her.
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
XLVII. REBORN
Kahlan turned to face the mirror. It was long and ornate, the carved frame wrought to resemble a wreath of desert flowers. She had asked for it under the pretense of examining her wedding dress, but the mirror had sat in her room two days already, and she still had not spoken with any of the women who’d kindly volunteered their services for the occasion. But that wasn’t the real reason she wanted the mirror.
She checked again on Amara, who lay on her belly in the middle of the room. She was scooting forward on a little mat, reaching out for a set of wooden rings Richard had carved for her. When she saw her mother watching her, Amara paused and beamed a dimpled, one-toothed smile, her dark eyes bright. Kahlan smiled back. She loved that her daughter had Richard’s eyes, though her hair was coming in darker still, almost black. Much more like her own than Richard’s lighter shade of brown. Kahlan just stared at her a moment. She could not imagine a more beautiful creature, and already she was getting so big. When Amara busied herself with the wooden rings, Kahlan at last turned back to the mirror, touching her hands to her face.
She never used to think herself vain, but she felt such a strange tug at her heart now when she studied her face. She’d been lovelier before. Of that she was certain. Now shadows lingered beneath her eyes, and her skin stayed sallow. She trailed her finger over the hollow of her cheek, and tried to smile at her reflection, but she couldn’t make her lips lift. She wondered if Richard still thought her beautiful.
Self-consciously she spun around, taking in the whole empty room. There were days when it felt like she would never escape it. She’d spent nearly six months inside recovering, and though she felt stronger now, she still tired too easily. Outside the walls of Isham, the brutal summer was fading to a warm, gentle autumn, and she had seen none of it.
She knew only tiny pieces of the world. The little she could see from her window, or hear from others sturdier on their feet than she. All was well in Aydindril, or so Zedd claimed. The council awaited the return of the Mother Confessor as soon as she felt able. Kahlan turned back to the mirror with a sigh. As soon as she felt able.
There was a heaviness in her heart that she could not shake, and she thought of the poison lingering in her veins. There were days when it made her ill, but often all she felt was weary and sad. The nightmares still came regularly, though she could remember little beyond the sounds of her own screams and a lingering sense of terror. Zedd had tried countless remedies, and she had rested days on end, just like he asked.
He told her that he thought the poison had begun to fade a little, but even that seemed tied to her mood more than anything else. These days, he instructed her to think happy thoughts as often as she could, thoughts the Keeper wouldn’t understand. As if the poison was some private battle between her and Underworld taking place in her veins. But if it was, the poison was stronger, and she could not help but feel sad.
Idly she took her mass of long, dark hair and piled it on top of her head, considering herself in the mirror. Should she marry with her hair up or down? She let go, and the strands spilled like midnight around her shoulders. She didn’t know. She was supposed to be planning a wedding, a real wedding born out of love; it was something no Confessor had ever done. She should be overjoyed. But she didn’t know. It was wearying when she thought of it at all. She wanted to blame the poison, but it was more than that. Those bitter, unending hours she’d spent down in the Underworld begging for her daughter’s death, trying to make a murderer out of the man she loved, had changed something deep inside her. She wondered if she would ever learn to smile easily again.
Kahlan tried to keep thinking of wedding plans, but her thoughts muddled and turned tedious. She hated the thought of a crowd at their wedding now, even a small one. Who would ever understand that day in the Underworld, except the two of them. All she wanted was for Richard to have a beautiful bride, and she had lost how to be that. She would look foolish in a wedding dress, gaunt and garish and unlovely. She stared back at the hollow eyed woman in the mirror, and thought a moment of smashing the glass. She stopped herself before she could raise her hand. It would only frighten Amara.
Instead, Kahlan reached for the laces on her dressing gown, returning to her real reason for the mirror. She had to do it now. Richard had traveled to the People’s Palace for the first time, the weight of a country resting on his shoulders like he was born to carry it, and she supposed he was. It had taken every argument she had to convince him she would be okay while he was gone, and even then, he’d taken his fastest horse. She had a constant ache in her chest from missing him, and the nights were bitter, frightful things, but she pushed it all away as best she could. He was expected back as soon as tomorrow, and she needed the mirror hidden away by then. He would worry half the night if he saw it.
With a deep breath, she pulled the ties to the gown, and let it slip down her shoulders to pool at her elbows. The panels of delicate, rose-colored silk fell open, leaving her naked before the mirror. She stared at herself, at the ribs that showed too bold beneath her skin, and the thin, silvery lines that ran faint as a spider web across her belly. She touched her thumb to them. Amara had given her those. The skin was a little looser there than it had been before, as if it no longer knew what to do, now that the child it had stretched to cover was gone from her womb. Even her breasts were different, heavier, the nipples darker. She looked thin and worn, and she wondered what Richard would think. If he would want to make love to her on their wedding night. A shiver ran through her at the thought, and she could not look away from the mirror.
She was still staring at her reflection when she heard the door creak and start to open. The only person who presumed to enter without knocking was Richard. Her heart racing, Kahlan spun around, pulling her gown back on just as he stepped into the room. The ties all hung undone, but she clasped the fabric tight to herself and tried to smile normally. Richard gave her a curious look, but Amara had begun to babble loudly at the sight of him, waving a drool-covered, wooden ring in his direction. He went to her, hoisting his daughter high in the air and showering her face with kisses.
“Hello, love,” he cooed, bouncing her again in his arms. Amara giggled with delight. “Your father missed you so much, yes, I did.” Kahlan smiled at the two of them. They were so beautiful together.
“You’re back early,” she said, putting her back to the mirror as if that could hide it. “We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I rode through most of the night. I wanted to get back to the two of you.” He’d changed from his old woodsman’s clothing to a pair of black breeches and a red tunic Nox had provided for him, and he looked the part of Lord Rahl right down to the tips of his new, black leather boots. She wanted to ask how it had gone at the People’s Palace, but he stepped closer, scrutinizing the mirror.
“That’s new,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.
Kahlan nodded and clutched her gown tighter. “I thought it looked nice in here.” Though he wasn’t a Confessor, she swore he could sense her lying to him all the same. She wished all the ties on her gown weren’t undone.
“Kahlan?” He shifted Amara to his other arm and gave her his amulet to play with. “Is everything okay?”
“I just…” she stammered, feeling her face heat. “I thought it would be good for looking at wedding dresses.”
“You did?” His voice was hopeful, but his eyes remained skeptical.
“No. I don’t know.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with a hasty hand. “I want you to take it away. Please.”
He nodded once. “Okay.” With a kiss to Amara’s brow, he set her back down on the mat beside her wooden rings. “What’s wrong?” he asked. His dark eyes seemed to pour right through her.
She glanced back at the mirror. Now it showed him standing beside her. He looked so unchanged by all that had happened. She shook her head. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“Yes.” His answer was instant and unwavering. “You are beautiful.” He stepped closer. “What is all this about?”
“I was more beautiful when we first met.”
“Kahlan…” His face creased with worry.
She did not know what made her fingers so brave, but she let go of the dressing gown, and let it slide like a waterfall to pool at her bare feet. She heard his breath come in a sharp gasp, and felt it in her heart. His gaze flicked up and down her body, and she shivered deep inside.
“Would you marry me as I am now?”
“Yes.” His voice was a whisper, and he looked up into her eyes. “Don’t you know I would?”
She trembled, feeling terribly bare before him. She looked down at her gown and wished it didn’t lie so far away. “I don’t… I looked better before.”
He gave a shake of his head. “Not to me.” He cleared his throat. She caught a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “You are beautiful, but I do not love you for your beauty.”
Kahlan stared at her feet, her words coming out mumbled. “I cannot be who I was before the Underworld.”
“I know.” It was such a simple answer. He always made the whole, confusing world sound so simple. He reached for the edge of his tunic, pulling it off over his head. She took a step back, half afraid, but he just let it fall to the ground and stood there bare-chested before her. “You’re not the only one changed by that day,” he said softly, and her gaze dropped down to an ugly scar she had never seen before. It ran ragged across the hard muscles of his abdomen. She knew at once that it was there that he had stabbed himself, welcoming death for the chance to find her.
With a tentative hand, she reached out and pressed her fingers against the line of red, ruined skin. “There was too much magic involved, from the sword and the Fatal Grace, for it to mend properly when Cara revived me,” he said.
“You never mentioned it before.” She traced the length of the scar with her fingertip.
He shrugged. “It’s a part of life. That’s all. Do you love me less for it?”
The question was absurd. “No,” she said indignantly. “Of course not.”
Richard smiled. “How many more ways do I have to say it for you to believe? You cannot confess me, and it has nothing to do with how much I like the way you look in your skirts. Or out of them,” he added, a bright blush burning across his face.
Kahlan bit her lip, reminded of just how painfully naked she was. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling her face heat. Richard dropped to his knees at her feet, and then he was pulling her dressing gown back up around her. Tenderly he tied the ribbons into bows, and when he was finished, he touched her cheek before letting his hands fall to his sides. She breathed easier. He was always setting her at ease. And suddenly she knew, without a doubt, that there was nothing she could say that he would not understand, if she could just find the courage to open her mouth and say it.
“I,” she took a breath, “I can’t plan a wedding. Us…” She gestured between the two of them. “This isn’t for any crowd, but…I don’t want to keep waiting. We’ll wait forever if we wait on the poison any longer. I want to marry you, Richard, before the week is through.”
His whole face split into a smile that touched her soul, and he nodded, leaning forward until their foreheads met. He would take her as she was, and she would do the same.
“Have you thought of a place?” she asked, her voice quiet. She wondered if they would be wed here in this fortress that sometimes felt more like a prison than her salvation.
But Richard hummed low in his throat. “I have.” And then he was tugging her by her hand towards the wardrobe in the corner. “Get dressed and I’ll show you it now. It’s not far from here.” It was the first time he’d sounded so eager in a long time, and she dressed herself in a simple gown without once looking in the mirror.
---
He’d found it months ago, he said, but had wanted to wait for the right moment to show her. She knew the truth was that she had been too sullen to appreciate it before, but he spoke without reproach. They set out across the golden sands, Kahlan on a slow, gentle horse with Amara in her arms. It was a long time since she’d been outside the walls of Isham, and she turned her face towards the perfect, spreading sky.
The place he spoke of with breathless excitement lay not quite an hour’s ride west of the fortress, but at her pace, it took nearly two. She didn’t mind this time. Amara was enchanted by everything she saw, and unlike the last time she’d rode out across the desert, her belly swollen with child, she looked not once over her shoulder in fear. Richard was giddy with delight the whole time, and she breathed it in. His laughter made her feel lighter, almost as if the poison was fading away, and she forgot to worry about just when she would begin to feel weak again.
Their destination appeared quite suddenly, a patch of green between huge, yellow desert flowers, leading the way towards reedy grasses. Further along, the sand gave way to real dirt, and actual trees reached for the sky, still green with summer’s leaves. The oasis was all that Richard called it, and he beamed when he lifted her down from the horse.
“You found trees,” she said, plucking a leaf from a branch and holding it out to Amara.
“I did.” He ducked his head, looking sheepish. “Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she said, and she did. As much for how it delighted him as for the wild, green beauty of the place.
He took her hand, as eager as a little child. “Can you walk a little farther? There’s something else I want you to see.”
And she could. He had to hold Amara, and she had to lean on him quite a bit as they made their way through the trees, but this time it didn’t make her feel as if something died inside her. She was only grateful for the strength of his arm and the way he whispered in her ear when he lifted her over snarled vines.
And then they were on the edge of a clearing ringed in wildflowers, and there in its midst stood a humble cabin.
“Someone lives here?” she asked, turning to him in surprise.
Richard shook his head. “Just dreams at the moment,” he murmured. “But I thought, maybe, Isham has a lot of memories…” He trailed off, and she wondered if he knew how she found it her cell most days. She walked closer to the house, pressing a hand to the sturdy logs. Everything about it reminded her of the Richard she’d first met; a sweet, foolish, hopeful boy. He was still there then, somewhere deep inside. Perhaps she was too.
“You built this place,” she realized, tracing the grain in the wood.
“The men helped a lot,” he said at once. “I thought, well, I know it isn’t much, but I thought we could use a place just for the three of us. These lands are safe now, and we need time, before Aydindril and the People’s Palace and…” Again he let his words die on his lips, but she knew what went unsaid. They needed time to heal, before they went back to living lives for other people. Before she let her mind turn to all the children she still must bear for the sake of her line, and so Amara would never be a Confessor alone. She needed to learn how to just love this man and be whole again, be perfectly ordinary.
She stretched out her arms to the two of them, Richard and her daughter, and when she laid her head against his chest, she could feel his heart beat. She listened to the sound. They were all alive, and she could live this life, whatever it held. “It sounds perfect to me,” she whispered.
They sat a long time in the clearing, letting Amara explore the grass with chubby hands, and watching the setting sun dance a fleeting moment of glory across their home. Kahlan leaned back in Richard’s arms, and she forgot to feel weary until she was back in bed inside the stone walls of Isham, closing her eyes to the night. For the first time in many months, no nightmares came to wake her.