Seems like my Muse really needs a kick in the ass
I started writing this a long time ago; I'd say it was around the start of the second season of LotS. All I got done is this prologue thingy that's been sitting on my desktop for freaking months, and it's starting to irk me a lot. Basically, it was supposed to be a story of young Kahlan in her Confessor training days in Aydindril, before Darken Rahl wiped out all of the Confessors.
So, she's around 17 years of age. I tied it to book canon (even though I like to invent my own canon where it suits me, and it suits me with this story very much) and the majority of characters would be original ones. Also, the entire idea of a Confessor wanting to be a sorceress could come off as blasphemous, but I found it intriguing. Blame it on book!Nicci and her awesomeness.
I figured I'd post the prologue here now and see what you peeps think of it and maybe it'll give my Muse an idea or two how to shape the story. Or maybe you'd think it's crap and I'll forget about it all together and finally find some peace.
It doesn't even have a title yet. It needs work. It needs talent, too. But that never stopped me before so... Here it is.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker (bookverse)
Pairing: Kahlan/OC
Rating: R (or so I plan on it being so)
Summary: Kahlan is a model Confessor. Obedient, hard working, devoted to her studies. Until she meets Vivian and Vivian shows her how Powerful Magic is made.
Disclaimer: I own some of the characters, everyting else is Terry Goodkind's.
“Kahlan Amnell!” Headmistress Mariel’s voice boomed across the corridor like thunder, chilling Kahlan to the bone and stopping her dead in her tracks. With her hands now tightly balled into fists, she closed her eyes and silently reprimanded herself for so foolishly thinking she could get away with a broken curfew. She might have, she thought to herself, if it weren’t for the new boots that squeaked against the perfectly polished stone floor that one time in the middle of the stairwell. It was as loud as a mouse’s squeak would be, but nothing escaped head mistress Mariel’s ears. She was a hundred and ten years old, that woman, but her hearing was as sharp as ever.
It took her a moment, as if she hoped that if she counted to ten and then turned around, headmistress would no longer be there and she could scurry off to her room without a lecture. No such luck, realized Kahlan, because when she turned, the heels of her boots painfully squealing against the tiles, headmistress Mariel was still there, a scold on her face so fierce Kahlan felt sweat starting to bead along her forehead.
“Just where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
Kahlan’s cheeks started to burn and she shifted her eyes to the floor, practically drowning in shame. She couldn’t find any words.
“You should have been in your bed, two hours ago, fast asleep.” The headmistress slowly walked, shortening the distance between them, her voice bounced off the walls and slowly crowded around Kahlan, squeezing her, making her feel like a seven-year-old.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” the headmistress ordered, and Kahlan swallowed before she did as she was told. “I am so disappointed. You, of all girls, Kahlan. What has gotten into you, lately?”
“Headmistress, I-” Kahlan tried, but was cut off by a swift wave of hand.
“Silence! I have had enough of your disobedience. This time, you will be punished accordingly.”
Kahlan’s eyes started to sting with tears, but she swallowed them away. It was her own fault, after all.
“Go to your room now. First thing in the morning, you will report to me, and then we’ll have a conversation with the Mother Confessor’s emissary.”
“No! Headmistress-” Kahlan choked out, but it was futile. With another wave of the hand the headmistress was on her way, leaving the young Confessor-in-training alone and miserable.
When she opened the door, the room was pitch black. As soon as she stepped in, a candle came to life and three girls practically pounced on her before she could make a sound. A fit of giggles filled the room as Kahlan was pulled toward her bed, and then plopped down on it like a sack of potatoes. That’s what she’ll end up doing for the rest of her schooling in Aydindril, Kahlan despaired, carrying sacks, pealing and cutting potatoes in some dark corner of the dorm kitchen’s cellar. If she’s lucky.
But first she had to survive a completely different type of punishment: her roommate’s questions.
“Well, what happened?!” Cyrilla practically jumped on her in anticipation, while Mary and Nea, sister twins, cuddled like chickens on Mary’s bed, looking at Kahlan with two pairs of big brown eyes, almost big enough to swallow her.
“Did you meet him? Did you talk to him? What happened?!”
“Meet who?” Kahlan frowned.
Cyrilla made a face and then punched Kahlan in the shoulder, “Young master Mason. Who!”
“Oh he is so dreamy,” Nea cooed and her sister nodded enthusiastically.
“Oh.” Kahlan remembered. “Yes. I’ve met him.” She shrugged nonchalantly.
“We heard headmistress’ voice just before you came in,” Mary interrupted and earned herself an annoyed look from Cyrilla for diverting Kahlan from the more pressing conversation subject. “Did you get caught sneaking in?” Kahlan nodded. “Oh.” Mary winced.
“Will you get in trouble?”
Now Mary was swaying Nea toward the irrelevant and Cyrilla could have none of that so she stomped her foot just as Kahlan confirmed with a painful grimace.
“Girls!” Cyrilla hissed. “Focus!” All three of them looked at her and she smiled placidly. “Now Kahlan… Do tell us how your meeting with young master Mason went. Seriously, we’re dying here.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Kahlan shrugged. “We just took a walk and-”
“Did he kiss you?” Nea blurted out.
“Oh spirits, how divine would that be?” Mary grinned.
Kahlan fought to get another word out, but it was impossible. The sisters’ impatience was overwhelming, so when Kahlan failed to answer, both girls gasped in unison before Mary stage whispered, “You haven’t confessed him, have you?”
“That would be most unfortunate.” Nea nodded.
“Would you let her speak?” Cyrilla’s eyes flared, “I’d like to find out what happened before I’m old and gray.”
“Nothing happened.” Kahlan shrugged, “It was just a walk to the rampart and back.”
“So what took you so long if it was ‘just a walk to the rampart and back’?”
Kahlan felt her cheeks blush. “I’ve met up with Vivian-”
“Vivian!” Nea exclaimed. “But she’s a-” She lowered her voice, “She’s a witch!”
“She’s not a witch!” Kahlan protested with a pout. “She’s a Confessor like the rest of us. A slightly more unusual one, yes, but she’s not a witch.”
“She’s hanging around with that group of young wizards. I’ve seen her.” Mary offered making her sister and Cyrilla nod their heads, confirming they have seen her with the group as well. “She’s neglecting her studies and obligations as a Confessor because she wants to be a sorceress.”
“She’s always in some kind of trouble-” Mary shook her head somberly.
Nea wagged her finger at Kahlan, “-and now you’re in trouble because of her.”
“Kahlan,” Cyrilla scooted closer next to her roommate and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her eyes were tiny, suspicious slits. “Last time… Last two times you got caught sneaking in, were you meeting Vivian then, too.”
Kahlan’s eyes shifted between the two sisters sitting across from her. Their mouths fell open when she squeezed out, “Yes.”
Surprisingly, Cyrilla only smiled and hooked her arm tighter around Kahlan’s neck, “You little wench. You were practicing, weren’t you?”
It was Kahlan’s time to gasp as she looked at Cyrilla only slightly less shocked than Nea and Mary had. Cyrilla smirked at her knowingly. “I’m not stupid. And I certainly know you are not. I figured it had to be something quite important to derail you from your always-spotless demeanor. Practicing sounds legit enough. And for Mason Trask, completely justified.”
Mary scrunched up her nose. “Practicing what?”
“Controlling my power.” Kahlan offered weakly. From the corner of her eye she could see Cyrilla smirking at her and it made her blush wildly.
“You already have control over your power,” Nea frowned, “We all do.”
“Do we have to talk about this now?” Kahlan looked at Cyrilla pleadingly. “It’s late, I’m tired and I have a ticket to Underworld first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Oh honey,” Cyrilla patted her head. Her eyes were full of fake sympathy. “I know you’re tired, but you just admitted to practicing control with Vivian Adwood. No one is going to sleep until you tell us about it. And I mean, everything.”
Well, there you go.