legend of the Seeker fanfic dump
I have three (somewhat) new Legend of the Seeker fanfics for your enjoyment. They were all challenges for legendland but the challenges are over now, and I'm free to post. All available under the cuts.
Title: The Long Rain Falls
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 1 x 22
Wordcount: 694
Warnings: Sexual content.
Summary: Missing scene fic written for legendland.
The room is lit with candles; an open window flickers their glow. Here, she waits patiently for the inevitable to happen. She absently strokes the silk bed spread with her hand, thinking about the woman who spent days at her loom making it, how her fingers went red, raw from exhaustion.
Sweat and blood made this - sweat and blood will break me here.
She closes her eyes in an effort to blink back the tears.
You chose this - you knew the consequences.
She straightens her back and folds her hands on her stomach.
This was the only choice, she reminds herself more fervently but stops herself before she can replay their conversation again in her head. It’s too late now, regardless.
She looks behind her, eyeing the door; soon it would push open and the next twenty years of her life would begin.
She breathes deeply and remembers times that were worse than this... when life was far more difficult than what it’s about to be... but then again, she was with him and things were never as that bad then.
The door swings open violently and he’s standing in the frame, puffing himself up, filling the structure, blocking the only escape.
He eyes her carefully, reading her inside and out; he offers her nothing - no comfort, no emotion, nothing she can back up against. She’s alone and he makes sure she knows it.
“My lovely wife,” he starts and she shudders; a gust of wind blows several candles out.
He moves towards the bed and reaches out to touch her shoulder, her black locks entwined in his fingers, but she surprises them both when she doesn't flinch. She stands her ground; the epitome of strength and grace, soon to crumble and decay.
He starts unlacing her dress.
She closes her eyes and feels his hands on her body... feels the power, their weight, their gravity. She’s convinced she can feel caked blood on his skin. She refuses to look. Instead, she closes her eyes and thinks of no one but Richard.
His hands are moving up her body: his hands are kind and compassionate and loving and caring and everything that your love’s hands should be.
She sees him in the flame on the candle of the nearby bedside table. She sees his face, his smile, his lips conform to hers, graze her skin and set her ablaze.
She’s on fire: her whole body screams out in pain but her voice refuses to acknowledge it. She clenches her lips together and arches her back, wiggling up the bed, as far away from him as she can get.
His hands clamp down around her stomach and he is nose to nose with her:
“You promised you’d be my wife in every way,” his voice is thick with oil. She stops wiggling and allows him to continue, eyes clamped shut.
Richard! Richard! she screams into the dark abyss of her mind. I’m... I couldn’t... I’m sorry, Richard...
She feels him climax and he crawls off of her body, panting.
She lays perfectly still, a mess of white satin stained with black and red surrounds her; she’s lost.
She lets a tear escape and it rolls down her cheek, over her lips, splashing on to her chin.
There’s a faint rustling of clothing at her side and she glances over to find Rahl standing beside her. He reaches out and places a hand on her abdomen. Neither of them speak, neither of them have to. They both know.
It’s only a matter of time before he has what he wants. She can feel the weight crashing down around her as he exits the room; it closes with a soft click.
She seeks solitude in the pillow, lolling her head over, squeezing tears from underneath her clenched lids.
A single candle remains. It’s light stretches out and gathers her up into it’s heat, it’s comfort.
She nods and remembers why.
It’s for him. It’s for them. It’s for what could have been, for what exists now only in her heart.
It’s the only thought that lets her sleep, knowing that slowly, something inside of her is starting.
Title: Letters
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG
Word Count:
Summary: Written for legendland. In this challenge we were to pick a character and write a love letter to him/her.
Dear Sexuality,
Excuse me while I kiss you good-bye and no that’s not a metaphor. ... Okay, well, maybe it is; a remarkably bad one at that.
Anyway.
Yes, dear Sexuality, I must bid you farewell. We have spent much time together and enjoyed ourselves immensely, however I must now re-think my position surrounding my allegiance with a particular side of you.
Being a girl I was once attracted to men however, that attraction has somewhat disapated and I can only conclude that it’s because of one Kahlan Amnell, who’s crazy-ass beauty and perfect breasts send me reeling every time I lay eyes on her.
She runs in this show. RUNS! Honestly! How on earth am I supposed to stay loyal to you when she is running across the screen in a tight, white, lace-up corset? I think, Sexuality, if you were to look at her, even you would start to question and wonder and desire and want and....
Drat.
You know, Sexuality, it would be much better for both of us if you could some how stake a better claim over those who tried to claim you to begin with.
Unless I’m bewitched... and that’s totally possible. Totally.
Well, confessed is probably more like it.
Kahlan Amnell is beautiful and awesome and perfect and has these breasts that are just like... guh... and you know, sexuality, I can’t be the only one who is outwardly in love with her! I can’t possibly be the only one who is gay for Kahlan and still want to sleep with her boyfriend every night, because honestly, I do want to. Probably. I hope.
Sigh....
Sexuality, I think you and I will have to come to an agreement: I shall be forever enthralled with the lovely Kahlan Amnell and her breasts and her corset and the fact that she runs and you, dear Sexuality, shall remain unchanged: I shall continue to like boys and want to sleep with my boyfriend and together we shall be perfectly okay with this.
Okay?
Okay.
All the best,
Me.
Title: Scream
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 222
Summary: Written for legenland where we were to write a fic with a new, original character. Mine is about the Maker of the Agiels.
The Maker sits next to a fire, not for the heat as he’s grown accustom to the cold, but for the light. His eyes refuse to adjust to the dark.
His hands burn and ache. Sweat drips down his eyes. He clenches his teeth and holds his breath.
He thinks of nothing but his daughter, the beautiful, sweet girl stolen from him when she was so young. It gives him strength to finish his work.
Red leather is twisted, pulled and contoured, rounded at the top.
The Maker can already feel it’s dark magic, the bond it has with Lord Rahl grows stronger each passing minute. He must finish his work before the pain becomes unbearable; before it kills him.
It’s powered by the screams of a thousand previous victims; the loudest is his daughter’s.
As he pulls the leather tighter and adds the gold chain, the screams pierce his ears.
Finally finished, he sets it down and waits for it’s new owner to come take it away.
The Maker rests briefly with his head in his hands and thinks of the daughter who he out lived in this wretched place.
The dungeon’s door swings open: it’s mistress takes it away and a new Agiel is ordered.
Slowly, The Maker picks up a fresh sheet of red leather and starts to work.
Title: The Long Rain Falls
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 1 x 22
Wordcount: 694
Warnings: Sexual content.
Summary: Missing scene fic written for legendland.
The room is lit with candles; an open window flickers their glow. Here, she waits patiently for the inevitable to happen. She absently strokes the silk bed spread with her hand, thinking about the woman who spent days at her loom making it, how her fingers went red, raw from exhaustion.
Sweat and blood made this - sweat and blood will break me here.
She closes her eyes in an effort to blink back the tears.
You chose this - you knew the consequences.
She straightens her back and folds her hands on her stomach.
This was the only choice, she reminds herself more fervently but stops herself before she can replay their conversation again in her head. It’s too late now, regardless.
She looks behind her, eyeing the door; soon it would push open and the next twenty years of her life would begin.
She breathes deeply and remembers times that were worse than this... when life was far more difficult than what it’s about to be... but then again, she was with him and things were never as that bad then.
The door swings open violently and he’s standing in the frame, puffing himself up, filling the structure, blocking the only escape.
He eyes her carefully, reading her inside and out; he offers her nothing - no comfort, no emotion, nothing she can back up against. She’s alone and he makes sure she knows it.
“My lovely wife,” he starts and she shudders; a gust of wind blows several candles out.
He moves towards the bed and reaches out to touch her shoulder, her black locks entwined in his fingers, but she surprises them both when she doesn't flinch. She stands her ground; the epitome of strength and grace, soon to crumble and decay.
He starts unlacing her dress.
She closes her eyes and feels his hands on her body... feels the power, their weight, their gravity. She’s convinced she can feel caked blood on his skin. She refuses to look. Instead, she closes her eyes and thinks of no one but Richard.
His hands are moving up her body: his hands are kind and compassionate and loving and caring and everything that your love’s hands should be.
She sees him in the flame on the candle of the nearby bedside table. She sees his face, his smile, his lips conform to hers, graze her skin and set her ablaze.
She’s on fire: her whole body screams out in pain but her voice refuses to acknowledge it. She clenches her lips together and arches her back, wiggling up the bed, as far away from him as she can get.
His hands clamp down around her stomach and he is nose to nose with her:
“You promised you’d be my wife in every way,” his voice is thick with oil. She stops wiggling and allows him to continue, eyes clamped shut.
Richard! Richard! she screams into the dark abyss of her mind. I’m... I couldn’t... I’m sorry, Richard...
She feels him climax and he crawls off of her body, panting.
She lays perfectly still, a mess of white satin stained with black and red surrounds her; she’s lost.
She lets a tear escape and it rolls down her cheek, over her lips, splashing on to her chin.
There’s a faint rustling of clothing at her side and she glances over to find Rahl standing beside her. He reaches out and places a hand on her abdomen. Neither of them speak, neither of them have to. They both know.
It’s only a matter of time before he has what he wants. She can feel the weight crashing down around her as he exits the room; it closes with a soft click.
She seeks solitude in the pillow, lolling her head over, squeezing tears from underneath her clenched lids.
A single candle remains. It’s light stretches out and gathers her up into it’s heat, it’s comfort.
She nods and remembers why.
It’s for him. It’s for them. It’s for what could have been, for what exists now only in her heart.
It’s the only thought that lets her sleep, knowing that slowly, something inside of her is starting.
Title: Letters
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG
Word Count:
Summary: Written for legendland. In this challenge we were to pick a character and write a love letter to him/her.
Dear Sexuality,
Excuse me while I kiss you good-bye and no that’s not a metaphor. ... Okay, well, maybe it is; a remarkably bad one at that.
Anyway.
Yes, dear Sexuality, I must bid you farewell. We have spent much time together and enjoyed ourselves immensely, however I must now re-think my position surrounding my allegiance with a particular side of you.
Being a girl I was once attracted to men however, that attraction has somewhat disapated and I can only conclude that it’s because of one Kahlan Amnell, who’s crazy-ass beauty and perfect breasts send me reeling every time I lay eyes on her.
She runs in this show. RUNS! Honestly! How on earth am I supposed to stay loyal to you when she is running across the screen in a tight, white, lace-up corset? I think, Sexuality, if you were to look at her, even you would start to question and wonder and desire and want and....
Drat.
You know, Sexuality, it would be much better for both of us if you could some how stake a better claim over those who tried to claim you to begin with.
Unless I’m bewitched... and that’s totally possible. Totally.
Well, confessed is probably more like it.
Kahlan Amnell is beautiful and awesome and perfect and has these breasts that are just like... guh... and you know, sexuality, I can’t be the only one who is outwardly in love with her! I can’t possibly be the only one who is gay for Kahlan and still want to sleep with her boyfriend every night, because honestly, I do want to. Probably. I hope.
Sigh....
Sexuality, I think you and I will have to come to an agreement: I shall be forever enthralled with the lovely Kahlan Amnell and her breasts and her corset and the fact that she runs and you, dear Sexuality, shall remain unchanged: I shall continue to like boys and want to sleep with my boyfriend and together we shall be perfectly okay with this.
Okay?
Okay.
All the best,
Me.
Title: Scream
Author: Lule-bell
Rating: PG
Word Count: 222
Summary: Written for legenland where we were to write a fic with a new, original character. Mine is about the Maker of the Agiels.
The Maker sits next to a fire, not for the heat as he’s grown accustom to the cold, but for the light. His eyes refuse to adjust to the dark.
His hands burn and ache. Sweat drips down his eyes. He clenches his teeth and holds his breath.
He thinks of nothing but his daughter, the beautiful, sweet girl stolen from him when she was so young. It gives him strength to finish his work.
Red leather is twisted, pulled and contoured, rounded at the top.
The Maker can already feel it’s dark magic, the bond it has with Lord Rahl grows stronger each passing minute. He must finish his work before the pain becomes unbearable; before it kills him.
It’s powered by the screams of a thousand previous victims; the loudest is his daughter’s.
As he pulls the leather tighter and adds the gold chain, the screams pierce his ears.
Finally finished, he sets it down and waits for it’s new owner to come take it away.
The Maker rests briefly with his head in his hands and thinks of the daughter who he out lived in this wretched place.
The dungeon’s door swings open: it’s mistress takes it away and a new Agiel is ordered.
Slowly, The Maker picks up a fresh sheet of red leather and starts to work.