Fic: Broken Chains 14/?
Author: chickinwhite
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara
Rating: PG 17
Word account: ~5020
Summary: This adventure starts a good time after tears. It is about old scars and new bonds,
about friends and foes, about confidence and betraying,
Disclaimer: Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - no business, just fan-fun
AN: YAY! jolo_65 is still a great BETA!! You´re such a doll! THANKS!!!!
AN2: I know, I am so very late!! I had some good RL reasons, life has been a chaotic, hectically mess during the last two month. There was simply no space left to wrap my mind around the chains... Forgive me??!! - C´mon! Sheath your agiels, have a read instead... :)
Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13
Almost growling her anger Nicci hastened through the palace. Exasperation radiated from her narrowed eyes as she tried to catch up with the Mother Confessor, who strode forcefully ahead, apparently not minding if the sorceress was coming or not. Nicci was close to bursting with anger.
Hadn´t it been enough to bear their visit in the dungeons? Hadn´t she proved her willingness to cooperate with the Confessor and her odd desires for a certain blonde Mord Sith? What was this crazy woman now after?
Nicci huffed.
How annoying it had been for the blonde to watch the two women in the dungeons before. Their goodbyes so highly emotional; Cara wearing a scowl and a wistful draw on her face and Kahlan´s blue eyes shining with unshed tears when she hugged Cara tightly a last time, leeching on to the Mord Sith as if never wanting to let her go. Their desperate whispers had swept to Nicci´s sharp ears through the dark lights of the cell like far chirrups from the woods. Silly warm sounds in rough cold surroundings...
Behind her furrowed brows Nicci had watched them from her shadowed position at the cell´s entrance, gravely wondering what had become of the proud Mother Confessor, who once had matched her maternity spell with so much honest rage that she had demanded them vehemently to kill her, knowing too well that that would have meant her own death as well. Who had run to her in the desert of the pillars of creation without hesitation; to confess her and use her, instead of just killing her - only to become victim of her own powers instead. Who had fought with greatest resolve and would have given her life to defend the Seeker.
What had come over the Mord Sith who had been the strongest weapon in the defeat of the Keeper? Always controlled by grim purposefulness and unmistakable logic? Never minding the way; just heading for the result. Who had battled with such an incredible self-contempt and with a murderous clarity that it was almost recognizable as pure arrogance.
Nicci had fought them. She had done everything to bring them down. Had tricked them and had tried to sell them out - together with all of the living - to the Keeper.
But she had always respected them.
Seeing their behavior now, feeling the moldy air prickling with their thick emotions, her respect had ceased like fog under early morning sun. These women weren´t the strong warriors she had come to know.
They more seemed like the soft but rotten pieces of formerly strong wood, soaked and softened from lying in the morass of their emotions. In one word: They were miserable.
Nicci didn´t understand the sense of feelings. She didn´t remember how they actually felt. Of course she knew common sensations like hunger, or thirst, or cold, or pain. Such sensations were familiar to her, though they didn´t affect her. And she knew that common people felt much more. That they even appreciated to surrender, to be guided by deeper emotions like affection; love; hatred; happiness; lust and woe. Their emotions giving them an aim in their miserable lives. And Nicci appreciated it for giving her the opportunity to use them, to lead people, to get what she wanted. Possibly she had known some of these feelings herself, in ancient times, in a time that had long ceased to be real. But if so, they had long lost any meaning to her.
All she noticed now was a strange feeling of discomfort that crept through her as she watched them. And a pang of something she decided to identify as anger, though it wasn´t as familiar as anger normally felt to her. It was the way the two women managed so easily to ostracize her, to ignore her every presence. Gave her a feeling as if she was of no importance in the cell.
Kahlan and Cara had simply blanked her out.
First disgusted, then increasingly angry she had gritted her teeth. With an annoyed side-glance she had noticed the young Mord Sith at her side, standing with slightly tilted head and curious eyes, who watched the scene quietly, wearing an almost soft shimmer in her green eyes; and it had been enough to bring the huff out that had pressed against her lips for several minutes now. Rolling her eyes unnerved, she had found herself at the end of her tether.
“Enough!” she had barked. “We have to get back before Rahl gets suspicious.” Her voice hard and impatient. Maybe a little too shrill; a little too pressed.
Kahlan had shot her a dark stare, but had obeyed reluctantly.
A last kiss, a last glance, filled with concern and regret. Cara straightened; the softness in her eyes had ceased as Kahlan inhaled deeply and stood, her hand reaching out to stroke Cara´s cheek one last time, her lips breathing a voiceless “I love you”; and a lonely tear lay hidden in the corner of her eye.
The Confessor had walked towards Nicci and while approaching her she had visibly changed with every step into the strong, powerful Mother Confessor Nicci knew. Arching a brow Nicci had watched her transformation, had ground her teeth at the bitter taste that suddenly lay on her tongue. She swallowed it down and her fierce glance had admonished Kahlan harshly to submit into her role and though the Confessor had answered her glare with a keen glance of her own, she had bowed her head and when she had lifted it again, her entire features, all her body language was one of deep devotion; her eyes glued to the sorceress, seeking only for her acceptance.
An audible, throaty growl had been heard from Cara. The rattling sound of her chains had given voice to a frustrated huff she wouldn´t allow to fall from her lips.
Grinning triumphantly Nicci was already about to reel, when Cara´s voice had suddenly cut the air, setting her words in a slow, dark, threatening manner.
“Just so you know, witch! - If you let her be harmed in any way; if it comes to your mind to betray her; if she, however, suffers any pain because of you - I swear! I will find you! And I will see that you choke on your filthy grin. There is no hole in the world where you´ll be out of my reach. You´ll be mine! Do not forget this. Never!”
Her eyes were made of steel, their iciness causing even Nicci a chill to run down her spine. Though, instead of showing the slightest sign of disturbance she set a mocking eyebrow and a sneer and turned, winking arrogantly over her shoulder:
“Jona will let you know when the time has come. Be prepared!”
And thus said she left with her head held high, Kahlan, tense but obediently, on her heels.
She had set a good pace, pondering silently about the Mord Sith and the Confessor, when she finally noticed that her Confessor was missed. Reaching the first floor Kahlan had turned to the left instead of following Nicci into the direction where the guest chambers laid.
And now Nicci found herself rushing behind a fake-confessed Mother Confessor who apparently had her own ideas of where to head to.
Finally reaching her she hissed sharply.
“What in all worlds are you thinking you´re doing here?”
“I have to see King Sadom!”
Kahlan hurried on, not even deigning to look at her, much less slowing her steps.
Nicci rolled her eyes in an exasperate gesture, then gripped her arm fiercely and brought her to a halt. Kahlan sighed deeply, but when she looked into Nicci´s eyes the sorceress faced the deep devotion that was coming to be Kahlan´s trademark glare.
“Don´t be silly, Confessor? King Sadom is not our affair.” She gestured to the walls. “If anyone sees you walking these halls on your own account... You may as well run around shouting “look at me, I´m not confessed!” We will both be sentenced to death if Rahl gets aware...”
Kahlan looked at her, an expression of utter resolve lay on her face. She nodded slowly, lifting a brow with a sarcastic smile.
“Then I suggest you make sure they see Sister Nicci heading to King Sadom’s chambers, while I´m merely following my mistress, wherever she leads me.”
And with a teasing tilt of her head she turned and took her pace again, leaving it up to an exasperated sorceress to catch up with her and finally take the lead, though scowling fiercely ahead while a mirthless smile settled on Kahlan’s lips.
While rushing behind Nicci, her Confessor mask replaced by an anxious eagerness spread over her features whenever they crossed the way of some of the many servants, Kahlan´s mind wrapped around King Sadom.
Nicci had used it as an excuse to get rid of Garen so Kahlan could meet with Cara. But Kahlan knew instinctively that it had been the truth: Garen had helped him with his nephews to bring them into the dungeons.
King Sadom was willing to sacrifice his own nephews, judge them for high treason and sentence them to death, though their only betrayal had been that they hadn´t agreed with his decision of conniving with Rahl. They had been loyal to the Mother Confessor, they had stood up against King Sadom´s newly built alliance with Rahl and now they would die because of their honest loyalty.
Kahlan wouldn´t let that happen.
Eagerly she searched for a plan, chewed on the few small possibilities and yet she couldn´t figure a way out to free them. The white dragon came to her mind, her words flickering behind her lids out of the nothing:
“Do what must be done. Do not hesitate…”
The Mother Confessor set her jaw decidedly. She would wait for an opportunity - and hope that Nicci played along…
They reached King Sadom´s working chambers unmolested. Only then they were stopped as the two guards, who were positioned at the door, crossed their lances in front of the entrance when the women approached. Their eyes stared straight ahead, they didn´t move nor shifted their weapons, until Nicci stepped angrily close to the chunky soldier to her left and growled at him, pointing her words in a low but nonetheless daunting way.
“I am Lord Rahl´s personal assistant. I´ve come to see the King. Let me pass!”
He visibly straightened and turned his head, scowling at her, and then eying the raven-haired woman at her side for a very long second. Eventually setting his gaze back on Nicci, he spit disgustingly, his narrowed eyes sparkling with barely hidden hatred.
“All I see is Lord Rahl´s collared slave; the pet-sorceress who dared to put an abominable spell on the Mother Confessor so that she lost her honor, her mind and her soul to you. You are the bitch who sells the Midlands out to a tyrant…” He had to struggle to bite his own tongue as he noticed his companion´s fierce, adjuratory, and warning glance. Only reluctantly he braced himself, small muscles under his cheekbones working fiercely, and stepped aside, his face a stony mask again. But Nicci, seemingly untouched by his words, heard his low groan as she passed him.
“May the Keeper rip your soul into bloody pieces and feed it to his beasts.”
She stopped and turned, granting him a false smile, almost purring sarcastically:
“Hmm. Does your beloved King actually know how you feel? Because I am curious as to how he will react if I tell him. Surely he will rip something out of you …; probably your tongue at least;” and thus said she slammed the door open and sauntered inside.
Kahlan trotted behind, her shoulders sagging and her head dropped, barely able to fight against the urge to grant him at least a sad smile of gratitude for his loyalty.
The two men, whose loud, upset voices immediately stopped, turned harshly as they entered the room. One of them was Rahl, who had apparently had a fierce discussion with the King. Facing the blonde sorceress he was barely hiding his resentment. He stared at Nicci, frowning deeply, as if he was seeing an appearance.
“Nicci! What a lovely surprise to see you! Why is it that I didn´t expect your presence in these chambers? Aren´t you supposed to prepare for our departure?”
In his very own priggish way he spoke in a gentle tone, but nonetheless the air seemed to prickle as his cold eyes pierced the blonde. Her answering tone was one of bored arrogance.
“I looked for you, Lord Rahl.”
“I can´t remember that I called for you?!”
“But, My Lord! Didn´t you demand me to bring the Mother Confessor to King Sadom, so he might at least be able to admire the result of his… assistance provided to you?” She nodded a greeting towards the King, who stood behind his secretary, in his eyes a greedy glow as he watched the shy appearance of the Mother Confessor, standing devotedly behind the blonde. Nicci saw his face beaming expectantly and she didn´t hide her amusement. The King was a small man, his impressive paunch much broader then his shoulders, his pale face spongy, bloated and graced with little, shining, scarlet blotches. Bushy hairs sprouted out from under his vest at his chest and his neck, though there were only a few thin hairs adorning his massive, blank skull.
Nicci tugged Kahlan, who struggled to keep her submissive expression, in front of her, shoving her closer to the greedy eyes of the King; grinning mischievously as she watched his thick tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Look at her, King Sadom and enjoy it. This is what you sentenced her to be. This is your revenge!”
The King didn´t move, just stared at Kahlan, whose shoulders started to stiffen under his glare; Nicci bored her nails warningly into her back. From under her lashes the brunette sent her one of those glances which others could easily define as a confused question, only Nicci knew it wasn´t.
Rahl watched the scene with narrowed eyes, on his face a mixture of distrust and amusement.
He had long gotten used to Nicci´s idiosyncratic interpretation of serving him. She still made her own decisions, even after all of her training, and though she had come to accept that eventually she had to submit to his will and his will alone, she had never lost her own individualism.
It had never been his honest aim to break the former Sister of the Dark. Much more he enjoyed the satisfaction to see her submit to his will while being fully aware of her helplessness against his might.
But during the years, the longer he had her in his grip, the more often she´d died during her training and had been revived by his Mord Sith, the more he gained conviction that she would never give in... the more he tried to break her at last.
The witch had withstood every pain, every humiliation and even when he started to call her into his private chambers to teach her his own very special lessons of submission; he had never been able to break her bored arrogance.
Rahl had grown accustomed to her thorny manner; there were even times when he enjoyed her presence, her unmistakable ability to dig deeper into wounds, even if these wounds were his own...
Until again she overexcited him, scoffing at the implications of her own horrid deed at that time when she had been after the Seeker. When she callously made him livid with rage, deriding him in bed. Until he forgot all reasons and he drubbed her perished. Trying to lose a bit of this all consuming tension that ruled him.
His eyes settled on the Mother Confessor. And slowly a mischievous grin appeared on his face. He liked what he saw! This was how he had always wanted to see her.
Shy, devoted and eagerly waiting for him to do his bidding.
The beauty of her, that had always radiated strength and power, defiance and determination, seemed so much more seductive in her soft weakness. That was how women had to be. The proud Mother Confessor was gone. The woman he saw was ready to be ruled, to be taken. His gaze travelled greedily over her slender form, resting on the constant heaving of her cleavage. Her eyes were glued to Nicci´s lips, eagerly waiting for her mistress to tell her what she could do to please her. He didn´t notice how she struggled inwardly to keep her role, how her lips pressed tightly together in attempt to not lose an angry groan, to not spit into his face.
Unconsciously he licked his lip, than stepped towards the sorceress and her pet. Kahlan felt a shiver running down her spine as his hand reached out to grab her arm almost painfully and pull her close.
“Come here, Kahlan. It is time to greet your mistress´ master like it behooves you.”
His smug grin made her stomach cramp, his hot breath in her face caused her hackles to rise and she barely managed to turn her head before his mouth met hers, her eyes desperately searching for Nicci as if asking for her demands; the blonde saw the urgent plea that swept along with her gaze and the tiniest curl of her lips proved to Kahlan she knew. Clearly amused she eyed the brunette for a long moment and while Kahlan almost lost hope that the blonde would help her out, she suddenly sighed audibly, turning to Rahl, and arching a sarcastically eyebrow while she let out a low chuckle.
“Ah, My Lord! Always too impatient... Though, I am afraid she is not yet fully prepared for your requirements. Didn´t you agree that she has to learn a few lessons before she is to be yours, and yours only, when we reach Aydindril? That you will take her when all the authorities of the Midlands will be ready to witness her submission to you?
Until then I´ll teach her everything that will make her a worthy lay for you, My Lord. At last, we do not want to disappoint you because of a momentary impatience, don´t we? You deserve nothing less ...than complete... satisfaction...”
Kahlan kept her eyes glued to Nicci, who smirked slightly at Rahl, knowing he wouldn´t lower his guard in front of the King. And, as expected, Rahl arched a brow suspiciously and looked her over, his hand still gripping the Confessor´s arm tightly. The air between them seemed to flicker as his narrowed eyes seared into Nicci´s gaze, though it did nothing to wash away her smug arrogance. Eventually she could feel how his features relaxed ever so slightly and he nodded with a mincing smile on tight lips.
“You are right, Nicci. Where at last is the fun in raping her right here and wasting the glory of her subjugation to my collared witch and my fat friend here? She deserves a much greater audience when I finally have her moaning and pleasuring me, her Lord.”
Kahlan heard his words with greatest alleviation, but just when her tensed muscles started to relax a little, she felt pulled harshly against his chest, his free hand pressing fiercely on her back to bring her closer until she could feel his heart pounding against her own breasts. She swallowed hard, not able to avert her eyes from his, filled with naked desire, trembling under his fierce grip and panting, knowing she wouldn´t have a chance if she started fighting. She did her best, gathering all her strength to bear this without showing her rage. Feeling her power boiling up, scratching at her collar, roaring against its walls, but helplessly chained.
Slowly, apparently very much enjoying the fearful look in her eyes, he pressed his wet lips on hers and all Kahlan could do to not vomit whilst gritting her teeth and thus refusing his violently demanding tongue entrance where it didn´t belong at all. It pushed heatedly between her lips, against her teeth. He tried a long moment to get through, but eventually, with a groan, he let go of her; but not without biting down on her lower lip hard enough to break its soft skin and then, already retreating, he licked the sweet bloody trace he had left clean.
“Ah, Kahlan. Your taste is delicious. We will have so much pleasure, once you are mine...” and turning with a triumphant smirk towards Nicci, who looked as bored as she could while watching his little show of dominance, because that’s just what it had been.
“You better take care that she´ll be perfectly prepared.”
“Of course, My Lord.” She bowed slightly, as if in submission. “But until then...” Nicci winked Kahlan to her side, who eagerly followed her demand, squirming free of Rahl´s grip, glad to escape his obnoxious proximity. Nicci stared at her with hard eyes. “Until then it will please me, Kahlan, if you will fight him with all your might, if he ever tries to get close to you again without my permission. Do you understand me? You will not allow him to lay hand on you, unless I demand you to be with him!” Kahlan, her wide eyes still beaming in an exasperated deep blue, hurried to nod her understanding.
Nicci smiled contently, turning towards Rahl again. “Just to ensure you´ll be not led into temptation, My Lord.”
He felt the small spark of anger rising in his chest at her effrontery. As usual.
And all the same, he couldn´t help the small grin that crawled over his face as he breathed in her hatred that he could sense radiating from under her skin with every smoothly covered word.
As usual.
Still grinning he turned to leave, but not before shooting a depreciative glance towards the King who had never taken his eyes off the Confessor, who seemed to him a helpless puppet in the hands of her mistress and Lord Rahl.
“Stop drooling, Sadom. You are allowed to touch her. But do not forget that she´s mine!”
And, approaching the door, “See that she behaves, Nicci. And then be ready for our departure! We will leave with the first light.”
A nonchalant smile on his lips and a smug look in his eyes he winked Kahlan a last time.
“Can´t wait for Aydindril, my dear...”
And then he was gone. His chuckle waving behind him like a flag until the door closed.
*********
Kahlan stood motionless, inhaling a deep breath and allowing her eyes to shut close while trying to regain her composure. When she opened them again she found herself just inches away from King Sadom´s spongy face, his little pale eyes glowed feverishly and a thick, plump thumb lifted to draw the line of her lips. Immediately the color in the Confessor´s eyes changed dangerously from their freshly recovered brilliant blue into a sharp edged shade of thunderstorm. From the corner of her eyes she noticed Nicci leaning apparently totally relaxed at the wall beside the King, saw her watching the old fat man as his gaze feasted on her body. Cearly, the sorceress did not bother to interrupt the King´s moves, watching uninvolved, in blank curiosity, and Kahlan gritted her teeth in increasing anger.
“Mother Confessor! Or should I say: Mother Confessed?” The King laughed with a filthy cough. Kahlan straightened, drudgingly controlling herself, while her hands already clenched, longing to feel his padded throat under her grip.
“I never hoped to see you like this: a soulless slave; at the mercy of the will of your master, your hated foe.” He leaned closer. “Tell me wench, how does it feel to have lost everything. To do the bidding of that whore who devastated you like you devastated my brother?” He brought his hand up to grip her hair, tugging her closer, searing her with the hateful sparkling in his stare.
Nicci frowned at his words. Slowly, her jaw set, she pushed off the wall and approached with a sneer.
“You should watch out what you´re saying, Sadom.” Her voice low and painted by a hint of threatening.
“Shut up, whore! I have waited too long for this moment. I will not allow Lord Rahl´s plaything to ruin it now.”
With a side glance the brunette saw Nicci straighten, anger washing over her face, her eyes changing and for a brief moment Kahlan could have sworn they gleamed in a heated yellow, before she purred coldly.
“I am sure, the Mother Confessor would teach you willingly how it feels if you so badly want to know...”
His paunch bouncing with roaring laughter the King let go of Kahlan´s hair and turned briefly to Nicci, shooting her a wide grin, before he wheeled back and, using the momentum, backhanded Kahlan fiercely.
That was enough. In this moment Kahlan let her mask fall. Her cheeks were burning, her stare filled with icy coldness; not the tiniest hint of devotion could be found on her features anymore. Sadom furrowed his brows as he noticed something had changed. Instinctively he stepped back; but Kahlan was faster. Her hand shot up and wrapped around his throat in a blink and clenched strongly.
The Confessor felt the roaring force of her gift stirring up in her and let herself drown in the familiar wave of power. A dark growl fell from her lips as she had to notice how it retreated again, chained by the collar around her neck. Though, fueled by her anger, her hand tightened around the King´s throat even more.
For a fierce heartbeat King Sadom was close to panic, looking into the dark blue fire in her eyes, feeling her deadly resolve and her barely controlled fury surging against him. He squirmed under her grip.
“Call her off, witch! Your Lord... will not be pleased... if she´s killing his strongest alliance!” His voice quavered, it sounded more like a begging than like an order.
Nicci sauntered closer, a trace of serenity blooming on her face as she patted Kahlan´s shoulder ever so slightly.
“Kahlan, it would really please me, if you would take your hand off King Sadom´s throat now. I think he will wet his pants if you don´t...”
Growling, Kahlan tightened her grip around his throat even more.
“I don´t mind your pleasure! And if he dares wet his pants in front of the Mother Confessor, I´ll make him suck them clean!”
She watched his eyes widen in horror.
“You... you´re not confessed!” He stammered, panic eventually hitting his mind in a sudden rush, before he suddenly calmed slightly, his eyes settling on the steely band around Kahlan´s neck. A nasty grin appeared on his lips while he started struggling against the brunette´s hard pressure.
“You...can´t confess me!” He panted. “You are helpless... against the power of your Rada`Han!”
Kahlan groaned loudly, knowing he was right.Though, forced by her fury she held the King anyway, slammed him even into the wall, deadly enraged, barely satisfied by the cracking sound as his skull hit the stone. She heard Nicci stepping closer and then felt her standing by her side, leaning forward and whispering cheerfully:
“Rada´Hans can be removed...”
And Kahlan felt a sudden sting burning into her neck as Nicci laid a fingertip against her collar and sent a spark of her Han into it...
With her gift unexpectedly uncaged, Kahlan seemed to gleam from inside out as time slowed down to eternity; as a thunder with no sound reverberated from the walls and her eyes took the color of polished onyx, beaming briefly with all consuming love, tossing it into the man and let it settle in the Kings devastated soul.
For the rest of his miserable life. ..
***********
Richard slowed his steps and came to a halt as he heard voices. Angry voices. They came from Dennee´s working chamber, where he had assumed he´d find the Confessor, intending to talk to her about his Mord Sith. Hesitatingly he approached, cautiously avoiding any noise.
The man´s voice was hard and cold; kind of an annoyed growl.
“Things are as they are! It is not the time to doubt the ways now. You should not forget that you were the one who induced it.”
“I don´t. And I still deem it best for the Midlands and all of us. I just... don´t like spreading such horrible rumors. At last she is still my sister.”
The man laughed mirthlessly.
“Your sister? You sold her out, Confessor! If this is sisterly love, it is of no greater value then the muck in the stables.”
For a moment Dennee remained silent. Finally she answered with audible tension in her voice.
“I didn´t expect your understanding. She has changed. And the Midlands need a strong hand to lead them.”
“So we are clear then? You will not get in my way?” Obviously she agreed, since he sounded a little softer as he continued.
“You will see, if the people of Aydindril think of her as a lunatic witch, they will eagerly bow to you as their Last. True. Confessor. No bloodshed will be needed. He will take her to D´Hara and you will be the next honorable Mother Confessor.”
“You better speak the truth, wizard Connor... - How can I be sure he won´t betray me?”
“Don´t you have already received the first part of your reward? I know you are spending every free minute in the dungeons. And as soon as that Cara joins her sisters your revenge will be completed. So, why would you doubt his word now?”
“He is not known for his reputation, at last.”
“Then, Confessor, you will have the honor to tell the truth about him in the future...”
Outside, Richard stood frozen in the shadow of a pillar.
Frowning.
His mind raced. Incredulousness stubbornly covering the first sparks of rage that were already gnawing at his guts.
This couldn´t be true!
Dennee would never...
tbc....
on to chapter 15...
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara
Rating: PG 17
Word account: ~5020
Summary: This adventure starts a good time after tears. It is about old scars and new bonds,
about friends and foes, about confidence and betraying,
Disclaimer: Nothing of LotS belongs to me (such a pity!) - no business, just fan-fun
AN: YAY! jolo_65 is still a great BETA!! You´re such a doll! THANKS!!!!
AN2: I know, I am so very late!! I had some good RL reasons, life has been a chaotic, hectically mess during the last two month. There was simply no space left to wrap my mind around the chains... Forgive me??!! - C´mon! Sheath your agiels, have a read instead... :)
Part 1; Part 2; Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13
Almost growling her anger Nicci hastened through the palace. Exasperation radiated from her narrowed eyes as she tried to catch up with the Mother Confessor, who strode forcefully ahead, apparently not minding if the sorceress was coming or not. Nicci was close to bursting with anger.
Hadn´t it been enough to bear their visit in the dungeons? Hadn´t she proved her willingness to cooperate with the Confessor and her odd desires for a certain blonde Mord Sith? What was this crazy woman now after?
Nicci huffed.
How annoying it had been for the blonde to watch the two women in the dungeons before. Their goodbyes so highly emotional; Cara wearing a scowl and a wistful draw on her face and Kahlan´s blue eyes shining with unshed tears when she hugged Cara tightly a last time, leeching on to the Mord Sith as if never wanting to let her go. Their desperate whispers had swept to Nicci´s sharp ears through the dark lights of the cell like far chirrups from the woods. Silly warm sounds in rough cold surroundings...
Behind her furrowed brows Nicci had watched them from her shadowed position at the cell´s entrance, gravely wondering what had become of the proud Mother Confessor, who once had matched her maternity spell with so much honest rage that she had demanded them vehemently to kill her, knowing too well that that would have meant her own death as well. Who had run to her in the desert of the pillars of creation without hesitation; to confess her and use her, instead of just killing her - only to become victim of her own powers instead. Who had fought with greatest resolve and would have given her life to defend the Seeker.
What had come over the Mord Sith who had been the strongest weapon in the defeat of the Keeper? Always controlled by grim purposefulness and unmistakable logic? Never minding the way; just heading for the result. Who had battled with such an incredible self-contempt and with a murderous clarity that it was almost recognizable as pure arrogance.
Nicci had fought them. She had done everything to bring them down. Had tricked them and had tried to sell them out - together with all of the living - to the Keeper.
But she had always respected them.
Seeing their behavior now, feeling the moldy air prickling with their thick emotions, her respect had ceased like fog under early morning sun. These women weren´t the strong warriors she had come to know.
They more seemed like the soft but rotten pieces of formerly strong wood, soaked and softened from lying in the morass of their emotions. In one word: They were miserable.
Nicci didn´t understand the sense of feelings. She didn´t remember how they actually felt. Of course she knew common sensations like hunger, or thirst, or cold, or pain. Such sensations were familiar to her, though they didn´t affect her. And she knew that common people felt much more. That they even appreciated to surrender, to be guided by deeper emotions like affection; love; hatred; happiness; lust and woe. Their emotions giving them an aim in their miserable lives. And Nicci appreciated it for giving her the opportunity to use them, to lead people, to get what she wanted. Possibly she had known some of these feelings herself, in ancient times, in a time that had long ceased to be real. But if so, they had long lost any meaning to her.
All she noticed now was a strange feeling of discomfort that crept through her as she watched them. And a pang of something she decided to identify as anger, though it wasn´t as familiar as anger normally felt to her. It was the way the two women managed so easily to ostracize her, to ignore her every presence. Gave her a feeling as if she was of no importance in the cell.
Kahlan and Cara had simply blanked her out.
First disgusted, then increasingly angry she had gritted her teeth. With an annoyed side-glance she had noticed the young Mord Sith at her side, standing with slightly tilted head and curious eyes, who watched the scene quietly, wearing an almost soft shimmer in her green eyes; and it had been enough to bring the huff out that had pressed against her lips for several minutes now. Rolling her eyes unnerved, she had found herself at the end of her tether.
“Enough!” she had barked. “We have to get back before Rahl gets suspicious.” Her voice hard and impatient. Maybe a little too shrill; a little too pressed.
Kahlan had shot her a dark stare, but had obeyed reluctantly.
A last kiss, a last glance, filled with concern and regret. Cara straightened; the softness in her eyes had ceased as Kahlan inhaled deeply and stood, her hand reaching out to stroke Cara´s cheek one last time, her lips breathing a voiceless “I love you”; and a lonely tear lay hidden in the corner of her eye.
The Confessor had walked towards Nicci and while approaching her she had visibly changed with every step into the strong, powerful Mother Confessor Nicci knew. Arching a brow Nicci had watched her transformation, had ground her teeth at the bitter taste that suddenly lay on her tongue. She swallowed it down and her fierce glance had admonished Kahlan harshly to submit into her role and though the Confessor had answered her glare with a keen glance of her own, she had bowed her head and when she had lifted it again, her entire features, all her body language was one of deep devotion; her eyes glued to the sorceress, seeking only for her acceptance.
An audible, throaty growl had been heard from Cara. The rattling sound of her chains had given voice to a frustrated huff she wouldn´t allow to fall from her lips.
Grinning triumphantly Nicci was already about to reel, when Cara´s voice had suddenly cut the air, setting her words in a slow, dark, threatening manner.
“Just so you know, witch! - If you let her be harmed in any way; if it comes to your mind to betray her; if she, however, suffers any pain because of you - I swear! I will find you! And I will see that you choke on your filthy grin. There is no hole in the world where you´ll be out of my reach. You´ll be mine! Do not forget this. Never!”
Her eyes were made of steel, their iciness causing even Nicci a chill to run down her spine. Though, instead of showing the slightest sign of disturbance she set a mocking eyebrow and a sneer and turned, winking arrogantly over her shoulder:
“Jona will let you know when the time has come. Be prepared!”
And thus said she left with her head held high, Kahlan, tense but obediently, on her heels.
She had set a good pace, pondering silently about the Mord Sith and the Confessor, when she finally noticed that her Confessor was missed. Reaching the first floor Kahlan had turned to the left instead of following Nicci into the direction where the guest chambers laid.
And now Nicci found herself rushing behind a fake-confessed Mother Confessor who apparently had her own ideas of where to head to.
Finally reaching her she hissed sharply.
“What in all worlds are you thinking you´re doing here?”
“I have to see King Sadom!”
Kahlan hurried on, not even deigning to look at her, much less slowing her steps.
Nicci rolled her eyes in an exasperate gesture, then gripped her arm fiercely and brought her to a halt. Kahlan sighed deeply, but when she looked into Nicci´s eyes the sorceress faced the deep devotion that was coming to be Kahlan´s trademark glare.
“Don´t be silly, Confessor? King Sadom is not our affair.” She gestured to the walls. “If anyone sees you walking these halls on your own account... You may as well run around shouting “look at me, I´m not confessed!” We will both be sentenced to death if Rahl gets aware...”
Kahlan looked at her, an expression of utter resolve lay on her face. She nodded slowly, lifting a brow with a sarcastic smile.
“Then I suggest you make sure they see Sister Nicci heading to King Sadom’s chambers, while I´m merely following my mistress, wherever she leads me.”
And with a teasing tilt of her head she turned and took her pace again, leaving it up to an exasperated sorceress to catch up with her and finally take the lead, though scowling fiercely ahead while a mirthless smile settled on Kahlan’s lips.
While rushing behind Nicci, her Confessor mask replaced by an anxious eagerness spread over her features whenever they crossed the way of some of the many servants, Kahlan´s mind wrapped around King Sadom.
Nicci had used it as an excuse to get rid of Garen so Kahlan could meet with Cara. But Kahlan knew instinctively that it had been the truth: Garen had helped him with his nephews to bring them into the dungeons.
King Sadom was willing to sacrifice his own nephews, judge them for high treason and sentence them to death, though their only betrayal had been that they hadn´t agreed with his decision of conniving with Rahl. They had been loyal to the Mother Confessor, they had stood up against King Sadom´s newly built alliance with Rahl and now they would die because of their honest loyalty.
Kahlan wouldn´t let that happen.
Eagerly she searched for a plan, chewed on the few small possibilities and yet she couldn´t figure a way out to free them. The white dragon came to her mind, her words flickering behind her lids out of the nothing:
“Do what must be done. Do not hesitate…”
The Mother Confessor set her jaw decidedly. She would wait for an opportunity - and hope that Nicci played along…
They reached King Sadom´s working chambers unmolested. Only then they were stopped as the two guards, who were positioned at the door, crossed their lances in front of the entrance when the women approached. Their eyes stared straight ahead, they didn´t move nor shifted their weapons, until Nicci stepped angrily close to the chunky soldier to her left and growled at him, pointing her words in a low but nonetheless daunting way.
“I am Lord Rahl´s personal assistant. I´ve come to see the King. Let me pass!”
He visibly straightened and turned his head, scowling at her, and then eying the raven-haired woman at her side for a very long second. Eventually setting his gaze back on Nicci, he spit disgustingly, his narrowed eyes sparkling with barely hidden hatred.
“All I see is Lord Rahl´s collared slave; the pet-sorceress who dared to put an abominable spell on the Mother Confessor so that she lost her honor, her mind and her soul to you. You are the bitch who sells the Midlands out to a tyrant…” He had to struggle to bite his own tongue as he noticed his companion´s fierce, adjuratory, and warning glance. Only reluctantly he braced himself, small muscles under his cheekbones working fiercely, and stepped aside, his face a stony mask again. But Nicci, seemingly untouched by his words, heard his low groan as she passed him.
“May the Keeper rip your soul into bloody pieces and feed it to his beasts.”
She stopped and turned, granting him a false smile, almost purring sarcastically:
“Hmm. Does your beloved King actually know how you feel? Because I am curious as to how he will react if I tell him. Surely he will rip something out of you …; probably your tongue at least;” and thus said she slammed the door open and sauntered inside.
Kahlan trotted behind, her shoulders sagging and her head dropped, barely able to fight against the urge to grant him at least a sad smile of gratitude for his loyalty.
The two men, whose loud, upset voices immediately stopped, turned harshly as they entered the room. One of them was Rahl, who had apparently had a fierce discussion with the King. Facing the blonde sorceress he was barely hiding his resentment. He stared at Nicci, frowning deeply, as if he was seeing an appearance.
“Nicci! What a lovely surprise to see you! Why is it that I didn´t expect your presence in these chambers? Aren´t you supposed to prepare for our departure?”
In his very own priggish way he spoke in a gentle tone, but nonetheless the air seemed to prickle as his cold eyes pierced the blonde. Her answering tone was one of bored arrogance.
“I looked for you, Lord Rahl.”
“I can´t remember that I called for you?!”
“But, My Lord! Didn´t you demand me to bring the Mother Confessor to King Sadom, so he might at least be able to admire the result of his… assistance provided to you?” She nodded a greeting towards the King, who stood behind his secretary, in his eyes a greedy glow as he watched the shy appearance of the Mother Confessor, standing devotedly behind the blonde. Nicci saw his face beaming expectantly and she didn´t hide her amusement. The King was a small man, his impressive paunch much broader then his shoulders, his pale face spongy, bloated and graced with little, shining, scarlet blotches. Bushy hairs sprouted out from under his vest at his chest and his neck, though there were only a few thin hairs adorning his massive, blank skull.
Nicci tugged Kahlan, who struggled to keep her submissive expression, in front of her, shoving her closer to the greedy eyes of the King; grinning mischievously as she watched his thick tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Look at her, King Sadom and enjoy it. This is what you sentenced her to be. This is your revenge!”
The King didn´t move, just stared at Kahlan, whose shoulders started to stiffen under his glare; Nicci bored her nails warningly into her back. From under her lashes the brunette sent her one of those glances which others could easily define as a confused question, only Nicci knew it wasn´t.
Rahl watched the scene with narrowed eyes, on his face a mixture of distrust and amusement.
He had long gotten used to Nicci´s idiosyncratic interpretation of serving him. She still made her own decisions, even after all of her training, and though she had come to accept that eventually she had to submit to his will and his will alone, she had never lost her own individualism.
It had never been his honest aim to break the former Sister of the Dark. Much more he enjoyed the satisfaction to see her submit to his will while being fully aware of her helplessness against his might.
But during the years, the longer he had her in his grip, the more often she´d died during her training and had been revived by his Mord Sith, the more he gained conviction that she would never give in... the more he tried to break her at last.
The witch had withstood every pain, every humiliation and even when he started to call her into his private chambers to teach her his own very special lessons of submission; he had never been able to break her bored arrogance.
Rahl had grown accustomed to her thorny manner; there were even times when he enjoyed her presence, her unmistakable ability to dig deeper into wounds, even if these wounds were his own...
Until again she overexcited him, scoffing at the implications of her own horrid deed at that time when she had been after the Seeker. When she callously made him livid with rage, deriding him in bed. Until he forgot all reasons and he drubbed her perished. Trying to lose a bit of this all consuming tension that ruled him.
His eyes settled on the Mother Confessor. And slowly a mischievous grin appeared on his face. He liked what he saw! This was how he had always wanted to see her.
Shy, devoted and eagerly waiting for him to do his bidding.
The beauty of her, that had always radiated strength and power, defiance and determination, seemed so much more seductive in her soft weakness. That was how women had to be. The proud Mother Confessor was gone. The woman he saw was ready to be ruled, to be taken. His gaze travelled greedily over her slender form, resting on the constant heaving of her cleavage. Her eyes were glued to Nicci´s lips, eagerly waiting for her mistress to tell her what she could do to please her. He didn´t notice how she struggled inwardly to keep her role, how her lips pressed tightly together in attempt to not lose an angry groan, to not spit into his face.
Unconsciously he licked his lip, than stepped towards the sorceress and her pet. Kahlan felt a shiver running down her spine as his hand reached out to grab her arm almost painfully and pull her close.
“Come here, Kahlan. It is time to greet your mistress´ master like it behooves you.”
His smug grin made her stomach cramp, his hot breath in her face caused her hackles to rise and she barely managed to turn her head before his mouth met hers, her eyes desperately searching for Nicci as if asking for her demands; the blonde saw the urgent plea that swept along with her gaze and the tiniest curl of her lips proved to Kahlan she knew. Clearly amused she eyed the brunette for a long moment and while Kahlan almost lost hope that the blonde would help her out, she suddenly sighed audibly, turning to Rahl, and arching a sarcastically eyebrow while she let out a low chuckle.
“Ah, My Lord! Always too impatient... Though, I am afraid she is not yet fully prepared for your requirements. Didn´t you agree that she has to learn a few lessons before she is to be yours, and yours only, when we reach Aydindril? That you will take her when all the authorities of the Midlands will be ready to witness her submission to you?
Until then I´ll teach her everything that will make her a worthy lay for you, My Lord. At last, we do not want to disappoint you because of a momentary impatience, don´t we? You deserve nothing less ...than complete... satisfaction...”
Kahlan kept her eyes glued to Nicci, who smirked slightly at Rahl, knowing he wouldn´t lower his guard in front of the King. And, as expected, Rahl arched a brow suspiciously and looked her over, his hand still gripping the Confessor´s arm tightly. The air between them seemed to flicker as his narrowed eyes seared into Nicci´s gaze, though it did nothing to wash away her smug arrogance. Eventually she could feel how his features relaxed ever so slightly and he nodded with a mincing smile on tight lips.
“You are right, Nicci. Where at last is the fun in raping her right here and wasting the glory of her subjugation to my collared witch and my fat friend here? She deserves a much greater audience when I finally have her moaning and pleasuring me, her Lord.”
Kahlan heard his words with greatest alleviation, but just when her tensed muscles started to relax a little, she felt pulled harshly against his chest, his free hand pressing fiercely on her back to bring her closer until she could feel his heart pounding against her own breasts. She swallowed hard, not able to avert her eyes from his, filled with naked desire, trembling under his fierce grip and panting, knowing she wouldn´t have a chance if she started fighting. She did her best, gathering all her strength to bear this without showing her rage. Feeling her power boiling up, scratching at her collar, roaring against its walls, but helplessly chained.
Slowly, apparently very much enjoying the fearful look in her eyes, he pressed his wet lips on hers and all Kahlan could do to not vomit whilst gritting her teeth and thus refusing his violently demanding tongue entrance where it didn´t belong at all. It pushed heatedly between her lips, against her teeth. He tried a long moment to get through, but eventually, with a groan, he let go of her; but not without biting down on her lower lip hard enough to break its soft skin and then, already retreating, he licked the sweet bloody trace he had left clean.
“Ah, Kahlan. Your taste is delicious. We will have so much pleasure, once you are mine...” and turning with a triumphant smirk towards Nicci, who looked as bored as she could while watching his little show of dominance, because that’s just what it had been.
“You better take care that she´ll be perfectly prepared.”
“Of course, My Lord.” She bowed slightly, as if in submission. “But until then...” Nicci winked Kahlan to her side, who eagerly followed her demand, squirming free of Rahl´s grip, glad to escape his obnoxious proximity. Nicci stared at her with hard eyes. “Until then it will please me, Kahlan, if you will fight him with all your might, if he ever tries to get close to you again without my permission. Do you understand me? You will not allow him to lay hand on you, unless I demand you to be with him!” Kahlan, her wide eyes still beaming in an exasperated deep blue, hurried to nod her understanding.
Nicci smiled contently, turning towards Rahl again. “Just to ensure you´ll be not led into temptation, My Lord.”
He felt the small spark of anger rising in his chest at her effrontery. As usual.
And all the same, he couldn´t help the small grin that crawled over his face as he breathed in her hatred that he could sense radiating from under her skin with every smoothly covered word.
As usual.
Still grinning he turned to leave, but not before shooting a depreciative glance towards the King who had never taken his eyes off the Confessor, who seemed to him a helpless puppet in the hands of her mistress and Lord Rahl.
“Stop drooling, Sadom. You are allowed to touch her. But do not forget that she´s mine!”
And, approaching the door, “See that she behaves, Nicci. And then be ready for our departure! We will leave with the first light.”
A nonchalant smile on his lips and a smug look in his eyes he winked Kahlan a last time.
“Can´t wait for Aydindril, my dear...”
And then he was gone. His chuckle waving behind him like a flag until the door closed.
*********
Kahlan stood motionless, inhaling a deep breath and allowing her eyes to shut close while trying to regain her composure. When she opened them again she found herself just inches away from King Sadom´s spongy face, his little pale eyes glowed feverishly and a thick, plump thumb lifted to draw the line of her lips. Immediately the color in the Confessor´s eyes changed dangerously from their freshly recovered brilliant blue into a sharp edged shade of thunderstorm. From the corner of her eyes she noticed Nicci leaning apparently totally relaxed at the wall beside the King, saw her watching the old fat man as his gaze feasted on her body. Cearly, the sorceress did not bother to interrupt the King´s moves, watching uninvolved, in blank curiosity, and Kahlan gritted her teeth in increasing anger.
“Mother Confessor! Or should I say: Mother Confessed?” The King laughed with a filthy cough. Kahlan straightened, drudgingly controlling herself, while her hands already clenched, longing to feel his padded throat under her grip.
“I never hoped to see you like this: a soulless slave; at the mercy of the will of your master, your hated foe.” He leaned closer. “Tell me wench, how does it feel to have lost everything. To do the bidding of that whore who devastated you like you devastated my brother?” He brought his hand up to grip her hair, tugging her closer, searing her with the hateful sparkling in his stare.
Nicci frowned at his words. Slowly, her jaw set, she pushed off the wall and approached with a sneer.
“You should watch out what you´re saying, Sadom.” Her voice low and painted by a hint of threatening.
“Shut up, whore! I have waited too long for this moment. I will not allow Lord Rahl´s plaything to ruin it now.”
With a side glance the brunette saw Nicci straighten, anger washing over her face, her eyes changing and for a brief moment Kahlan could have sworn they gleamed in a heated yellow, before she purred coldly.
“I am sure, the Mother Confessor would teach you willingly how it feels if you so badly want to know...”
His paunch bouncing with roaring laughter the King let go of Kahlan´s hair and turned briefly to Nicci, shooting her a wide grin, before he wheeled back and, using the momentum, backhanded Kahlan fiercely.
That was enough. In this moment Kahlan let her mask fall. Her cheeks were burning, her stare filled with icy coldness; not the tiniest hint of devotion could be found on her features anymore. Sadom furrowed his brows as he noticed something had changed. Instinctively he stepped back; but Kahlan was faster. Her hand shot up and wrapped around his throat in a blink and clenched strongly.
The Confessor felt the roaring force of her gift stirring up in her and let herself drown in the familiar wave of power. A dark growl fell from her lips as she had to notice how it retreated again, chained by the collar around her neck. Though, fueled by her anger, her hand tightened around the King´s throat even more.
For a fierce heartbeat King Sadom was close to panic, looking into the dark blue fire in her eyes, feeling her deadly resolve and her barely controlled fury surging against him. He squirmed under her grip.
“Call her off, witch! Your Lord... will not be pleased... if she´s killing his strongest alliance!” His voice quavered, it sounded more like a begging than like an order.
Nicci sauntered closer, a trace of serenity blooming on her face as she patted Kahlan´s shoulder ever so slightly.
“Kahlan, it would really please me, if you would take your hand off King Sadom´s throat now. I think he will wet his pants if you don´t...”
Growling, Kahlan tightened her grip around his throat even more.
“I don´t mind your pleasure! And if he dares wet his pants in front of the Mother Confessor, I´ll make him suck them clean!”
She watched his eyes widen in horror.
“You... you´re not confessed!” He stammered, panic eventually hitting his mind in a sudden rush, before he suddenly calmed slightly, his eyes settling on the steely band around Kahlan´s neck. A nasty grin appeared on his lips while he started struggling against the brunette´s hard pressure.
“You...can´t confess me!” He panted. “You are helpless... against the power of your Rada`Han!”
Kahlan groaned loudly, knowing he was right.Though, forced by her fury she held the King anyway, slammed him even into the wall, deadly enraged, barely satisfied by the cracking sound as his skull hit the stone. She heard Nicci stepping closer and then felt her standing by her side, leaning forward and whispering cheerfully:
“Rada´Hans can be removed...”
And Kahlan felt a sudden sting burning into her neck as Nicci laid a fingertip against her collar and sent a spark of her Han into it...
With her gift unexpectedly uncaged, Kahlan seemed to gleam from inside out as time slowed down to eternity; as a thunder with no sound reverberated from the walls and her eyes took the color of polished onyx, beaming briefly with all consuming love, tossing it into the man and let it settle in the Kings devastated soul.
For the rest of his miserable life. ..
***********
Richard slowed his steps and came to a halt as he heard voices. Angry voices. They came from Dennee´s working chamber, where he had assumed he´d find the Confessor, intending to talk to her about his Mord Sith. Hesitatingly he approached, cautiously avoiding any noise.
The man´s voice was hard and cold; kind of an annoyed growl.
“Things are as they are! It is not the time to doubt the ways now. You should not forget that you were the one who induced it.”
“I don´t. And I still deem it best for the Midlands and all of us. I just... don´t like spreading such horrible rumors. At last she is still my sister.”
The man laughed mirthlessly.
“Your sister? You sold her out, Confessor! If this is sisterly love, it is of no greater value then the muck in the stables.”
For a moment Dennee remained silent. Finally she answered with audible tension in her voice.
“I didn´t expect your understanding. She has changed. And the Midlands need a strong hand to lead them.”
“So we are clear then? You will not get in my way?” Obviously she agreed, since he sounded a little softer as he continued.
“You will see, if the people of Aydindril think of her as a lunatic witch, they will eagerly bow to you as their Last. True. Confessor. No bloodshed will be needed. He will take her to D´Hara and you will be the next honorable Mother Confessor.”
“You better speak the truth, wizard Connor... - How can I be sure he won´t betray me?”
“Don´t you have already received the first part of your reward? I know you are spending every free minute in the dungeons. And as soon as that Cara joins her sisters your revenge will be completed. So, why would you doubt his word now?”
“He is not known for his reputation, at last.”
“Then, Confessor, you will have the honor to tell the truth about him in the future...”
Outside, Richard stood frozen in the shadow of a pillar.
Frowning.
His mind raced. Incredulousness stubbornly covering the first sparks of rage that were already gnawing at his guts.
This couldn´t be true!
Dennee would never...
tbc....
on to chapter 15...