legend of the seeker fic - fulfilled (1/1)
Title: Fulfilled
Disclaimer: Not mine in the slightest.
Spoilers: Should be all set if you've seen the TV series through episode eight and you know a little something something about Kahlan's powers.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,108
Author's Note: Written for takethewords's Vagina Fest '09, for the prompt 'Legend of the Seeker - Richard/Kahlan - it's not enough.'
I'm too wordy for comment fic, hence it became an actual fic type thing. It's AU in regards to Certain Things that will only be clear if you're familiar with a major plot detail or two from the novels (I may have looked up some developments from the book series due to my brand new show enthusiasm (whoops?)). Also, it's A Bit Dark.
And thankee to hollywoodgrrl for the super-beta. This was supposed to be a surprise for you, but then I had to be all "fix it!" :)
***
They lay side by side, still and defeated in the dry grass.
It wasn’t enough. Everything they had tried, everything they had done. One small slip, one little error, and that was it.
The Midlands were lost.
They had been minutes, just minutes, too late. Darken Rahl had all three Boxes of Orden. Kahlan watched as all those who fought for truth, for peace, began to fall, as the world descended into ashes. They were all gone now. Zedd. Everyone. Those who had not fallen had fled. It was over. And there was nothing.
The surrounding forest rippled with fire, and waves of smoke stung at their eyes. Kahlan stared up at the orange-black sky, listening to a single scream echo across distant mountains. She closed her eyes against the enclosing cloud of smoke.
"Nothing matters anymore," she heard Richard whisper.
She propped herself up and looked left, right, forward. All around her the earth was scorched, pleading to her with every wail and crack and crash of thunder for a savior. She heard her name echoing in every corner of the chaos. This was her world to save, and she had failed. Her heart was a stone in her chest, heavy and jagged.
Her fingers twitched towards his, and she turned to face him. She had moved beyond despair hours ago, and from the blankness in his voice, so had he. He looked lost. To the world, and to her. One look at him was enough. There was no clear moment of decision, no more than a few seconds of worn out and tired deliberation that flickered in and out of her jumbled thoughts.
She leaned over, resting gently on a bruised elbow, and hesitated only a moment before bringing her lips down over his.
She kissed him, hard, and his hands slid up her back, fingers working their way through the intricate latticework of laces and stays on her dress. They raced deftly, as if they had done this a million times before. She felt the last bow loosen, and pulled downwards at the torn and muddy material.
Her veins coursed with unchecked power and emotions long held in their place by the thinnest of threads: selfishness, want, desire.
The ties of his waistband slipped free from her fingers, and then it was just them, bare and aching before each other as the dying world around them faded away.
::
His hands pressed firm on the small of her back as she moved above him, and he cried out when she quickened her pace, a sense of urgency pulling at the back of her mind as she heard the crackling of fire in the trees growing louder. She shifted, her arms hanging loosely at her sides as she blocked out the space around them until it was just her, and Richard, and darkness.
She heard the squawks of frightened birds, low and quiet, circling overhead, heard the sound of fire grow to faint snaps in the distance. She saw none of it.
She only saw Richard, and felt only Richard as he moved, fast and desperate inside her, despite the fractures, despite the bleeding wounds and bruises that dotted her skin and his. She made circling motions with her hips, moving in synch with him as he rose and fell off the ground, the grass scratching beneath them. She could feel the urgency in his motions, in the way he pressed his hands into her hips and held her above him, and remembered a time when his life had depended on her. She bit her tongue, pushed back the rage that knocked about within her over the disaster (the one that she had thought it her duty, her purpose, to prevent) that had befallen the Midlands, and all her friends within it.
It was then that she felt the magic begin to boil, quick and sure and more powerful than she had ever imagined. It tugged and sparked her nerves all the way down to her toes, making them tighten and curl. She was overpowered by the force of it and she grew hot, a flood of unbridled magic bringing with it a heat that rolled through her nerves and flushed her skin. In the back of her mind, words she had spoken countless times hounded her. This can never be. We can never be. But she barely registered these thoughts as she sped up, rocking faster and harder, bending forward with the effort, her hair falling down around her shoulders.
White light, real or not she couldn’t tell, blurred her vision, and she felt her power seeping out of every pore of her skin. Kahlan moaned as she climaxed, a loud, guttural sound that escaped her throat unbidden. She felt the air around her expand and the temperature rise as a shock wave rippled through her and out, a silent blast pushing the blades of grass underneath them outwards, encircling them like ripples on a pond, rumbling through the outlying trees.
As the light faded, she collapsed on top of him, gasping as she made an attempt to catch her breath. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she began to move her fingers over the curves and sinew of Richard’s muscles, tracing all the strength that could have, should have, saved the world.
She felt his hand on her chin as he tilted her dirty, tear-streaked face towards him.
He was staring at her, expectant. His eyes bore into her, imploring, and she swallowed, attempting to keep back the feeling building up in the depths of her throat.
She recognized the look in his eyes and turned away.
“Kahlan,” he said, almost oblivious to the environment around him.
She snapped straight as the world amplified in her ears. Richard continued to speak, and she pushed his declarations as far away as she could, bringing everything else forward in the process. The rush made her sway, a momentary sense of vertigo as sounds crashed into and around her, as the world lit up and every scream from every corner of the Midlands pierced her ears, as the pounding of feet and claws and hooves trampled through her brain, and the thundering destruction crashed down and tore at her, inside and out.
She felt Richard move his arm up, and she let him tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ears before turning to face him.
His looked frightened, but one look into her eyes and his expression softened. His eyes glistened, smiling with a love that was only for her, that would do anything for her. Anything she asked. Anything she commanded.
Richard smiled.
Kahlan screamed.
Disclaimer: Not mine in the slightest.
Spoilers: Should be all set if you've seen the TV series through episode eight and you know a little something something about Kahlan's powers.
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,108
Author's Note: Written for takethewords's Vagina Fest '09, for the prompt 'Legend of the Seeker - Richard/Kahlan - it's not enough.'
I'm too wordy for comment fic, hence it became an actual fic type thing. It's AU in regards to Certain Things that will only be clear if you're familiar with a major plot detail or two from the novels (I may have looked up some developments from the book series due to my brand new show enthusiasm (whoops?)). Also, it's A Bit Dark.
And thankee to hollywoodgrrl for the super-beta. This was supposed to be a surprise for you, but then I had to be all "fix it!" :)
***
They lay side by side, still and defeated in the dry grass.
It wasn’t enough. Everything they had tried, everything they had done. One small slip, one little error, and that was it.
The Midlands were lost.
They had been minutes, just minutes, too late. Darken Rahl had all three Boxes of Orden. Kahlan watched as all those who fought for truth, for peace, began to fall, as the world descended into ashes. They were all gone now. Zedd. Everyone. Those who had not fallen had fled. It was over. And there was nothing.
The surrounding forest rippled with fire, and waves of smoke stung at their eyes. Kahlan stared up at the orange-black sky, listening to a single scream echo across distant mountains. She closed her eyes against the enclosing cloud of smoke.
"Nothing matters anymore," she heard Richard whisper.
She propped herself up and looked left, right, forward. All around her the earth was scorched, pleading to her with every wail and crack and crash of thunder for a savior. She heard her name echoing in every corner of the chaos. This was her world to save, and she had failed. Her heart was a stone in her chest, heavy and jagged.
Her fingers twitched towards his, and she turned to face him. She had moved beyond despair hours ago, and from the blankness in his voice, so had he. He looked lost. To the world, and to her. One look at him was enough. There was no clear moment of decision, no more than a few seconds of worn out and tired deliberation that flickered in and out of her jumbled thoughts.
She leaned over, resting gently on a bruised elbow, and hesitated only a moment before bringing her lips down over his.
She kissed him, hard, and his hands slid up her back, fingers working their way through the intricate latticework of laces and stays on her dress. They raced deftly, as if they had done this a million times before. She felt the last bow loosen, and pulled downwards at the torn and muddy material.
Her veins coursed with unchecked power and emotions long held in their place by the thinnest of threads: selfishness, want, desire.
The ties of his waistband slipped free from her fingers, and then it was just them, bare and aching before each other as the dying world around them faded away.
::
His hands pressed firm on the small of her back as she moved above him, and he cried out when she quickened her pace, a sense of urgency pulling at the back of her mind as she heard the crackling of fire in the trees growing louder. She shifted, her arms hanging loosely at her sides as she blocked out the space around them until it was just her, and Richard, and darkness.
She heard the squawks of frightened birds, low and quiet, circling overhead, heard the sound of fire grow to faint snaps in the distance. She saw none of it.
She only saw Richard, and felt only Richard as he moved, fast and desperate inside her, despite the fractures, despite the bleeding wounds and bruises that dotted her skin and his. She made circling motions with her hips, moving in synch with him as he rose and fell off the ground, the grass scratching beneath them. She could feel the urgency in his motions, in the way he pressed his hands into her hips and held her above him, and remembered a time when his life had depended on her. She bit her tongue, pushed back the rage that knocked about within her over the disaster (the one that she had thought it her duty, her purpose, to prevent) that had befallen the Midlands, and all her friends within it.
It was then that she felt the magic begin to boil, quick and sure and more powerful than she had ever imagined. It tugged and sparked her nerves all the way down to her toes, making them tighten and curl. She was overpowered by the force of it and she grew hot, a flood of unbridled magic bringing with it a heat that rolled through her nerves and flushed her skin. In the back of her mind, words she had spoken countless times hounded her. This can never be. We can never be. But she barely registered these thoughts as she sped up, rocking faster and harder, bending forward with the effort, her hair falling down around her shoulders.
White light, real or not she couldn’t tell, blurred her vision, and she felt her power seeping out of every pore of her skin. Kahlan moaned as she climaxed, a loud, guttural sound that escaped her throat unbidden. She felt the air around her expand and the temperature rise as a shock wave rippled through her and out, a silent blast pushing the blades of grass underneath them outwards, encircling them like ripples on a pond, rumbling through the outlying trees.
As the light faded, she collapsed on top of him, gasping as she made an attempt to catch her breath. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she began to move her fingers over the curves and sinew of Richard’s muscles, tracing all the strength that could have, should have, saved the world.
She felt his hand on her chin as he tilted her dirty, tear-streaked face towards him.
He was staring at her, expectant. His eyes bore into her, imploring, and she swallowed, attempting to keep back the feeling building up in the depths of her throat.
She recognized the look in his eyes and turned away.
“Kahlan,” he said, almost oblivious to the environment around him.
She snapped straight as the world amplified in her ears. Richard continued to speak, and she pushed his declarations as far away as she could, bringing everything else forward in the process. The rush made her sway, a momentary sense of vertigo as sounds crashed into and around her, as the world lit up and every scream from every corner of the Midlands pierced her ears, as the pounding of feet and claws and hooves trampled through her brain, and the thundering destruction crashed down and tore at her, inside and out.
She felt Richard move his arm up, and she let him tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ears before turning to face him.
His looked frightened, but one look into her eyes and his expression softened. His eyes glistened, smiling with a love that was only for her, that would do anything for her. Anything she asked. Anything she commanded.
Richard smiled.
Kahlan screamed.