Son of Blood

[pristineungift]

Title: Son of Blood
Author: PristinelyUngifted
Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Romance/Adventure
Chapters 30-37
Chapter 30: Tyrant
Tyrant
"Mistress, there is a mob at the gates. They carry torches. I believe they mean to burn us from the palace."

Cara straightened from where she had slumped over the work table, a page stuck to her face by her own saliva ruining her dignity. She hastily brushed it off, blinking and pushing her hair back from her face.

"Mistress?" the Mord'Sith asked again. Cara could not remember her name.

"How many?" Cara asked, still trying to bring her mind into the here and now.

"Perhaps fifty. Enough to do damage, but we can easily shoot them from the ramparts. Their heads will grace the pikes in front of the palace walls before the noonday meal."

"No," Cara barked, thinking of how Richard and Kahlan would react to seeing the heads of villagers mounted on spikes.

She found she was sympathetic to the mob outside the gates - they felt threatened and wished to protect what was theirs.
Cara could understand that.

But she would protect what was hers.

"Give them a chance to surrender or flee, I don't care which. Just stall them; I will fetch Lord Rahl."

"But my lord -"

"Go!"

The Mord'Sith bowed her head, then went to obey orders. Cara was grateful she had not had to waste time dominating the girl. She wondered when Mord'Sith power games had lost their luster.

As she entered the chamber where Darken wasted away, she thought it was probably around the time she had begun to rule a ruined kingdom while the man she loved was consumed by his own power.

She no longer had time for the posturing and questioning that characterized an ambitious Mord'Sith. She needed swift obedience. Now, more so than ever, she understood why Darken had been so quick to draw his knife in the time he had ruled.

Obedience was obedience, no matter its source, and one did not always have the leisure to win followers over in a pleasant way.

Darken Rahl understood that, and Cara had come to understand. Her travels with Richard, Kahlan, and Zedd had done much to temper her nature, and for a time she had even come to question herself.

But she saw now - kindness, gentility, they were good, true things. But ferocity was needed too. Cara was First Mistress of the Mord'Sith.

And proud.

-l-
"Cara," Darken croaked, opening blood shot eyes. He had paled to an unhealthy shade of gray, his normally tan skin ashen.

"Darken," she said, only stopping herself from saying 'my lord' at the last moment, "there is a mob at the gates. They have torches."

"Then shoot them and mount their heads on the pikes," Darken answered, sounding confused. It was the standard response to a siege.

If fifty villagers could be called a siege.

Cara sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a cloth that sat by a water pitcher on Darken's bedside table. Wetting the cloth, she began to run it over his overheated skin. His face was gaunt. He could no longer bear to eat.

"This could be an opportunity to show mercy. If we respond as we would have...before, the people will simply seek to overthrow you again. But, if you grant them mercy-"

"If I pretend to be my brother," Darken said bitterly, turning his face away.

Irritated with his petulance, though she knew he was in pain, Cara dropped the cloth on the table with a wet plop.

"It was you," she said harshly, "that said there is not much difference between you and your brother back in that cave."

His head still turned to the side, Darken answered, "Except that he has a great talent for being seen as a hero, despite his actions. I believe that Richard and I could issue the same proclamation, and be met with cheers and disconcerting ridicule." He turned to face her again, a tiny ironic smile in place. "Guess who would get the cheers."

"Stop this," Cara snapped, her patience at an end. "You are Lord Rahl, and I refuse to sit here and watch you wallow in self pity. You are getting up, getting dressed, and then you are going to show these people that Darken Rahl is a king, with mercy in one hand and death in the other."

Darken blinked at her owlishly, days of little food and constant pain making his usually sharp mind dull.

He had, in fact, done very little but wallow in self pity and try to understand his dreams since he reached this state.

Somewhere in the powerful han that his body housed, Darken had become lost.

"Mercy and death in equal measure," Darken muttered, thinking back to the day he had first confronted his brother about their similarities.

Mercy and death in equal measure.

With Cara's help, Darken rose from the bed to make his brother proud.

-l-
Kahlan walked with the unicorn. She (for Kahlan insisted the creature was a she) had allowed Zedd to heal her from afar as Kahlan stroked her nose. They had all expected the creature to vanish back into myth at that point, but instead she had attached herself to Kahlan, following her like an oversized dog.

Zedd supposed that the lore surrounding them must be true. They seemed to take great pleasure in being near virgin woman, and were fierce to protect them.

Richard had found that out the hard way when attempting to talk to Kahlan as they walked. The unicorn had been very firm about just how close he was allowed to get to the Mother Confessor.

In a way Zedd was relieved. It meant that he would not have to keep such a close watch on the two, who he always feared would one day get carried away...

And then his grandson would be lost to him forever, and worse, the Seeker would be lost to the world.

Zedd loved Kahlan like a daughter, and his heart ached for the two more than they could know. But he would never be sorry for keeping Richard from the fate of the confessed.

Jennsen walked with Haden, both of them deep in thought.

Jennsen was thinking of the death she had seen her friends deal. She had hated Denna and the D'Haran soldiers that had killed her mother and hurt those she cared for. She had hated to see Richard order death on those same people when he was in Orden's thrall.

But she was glad her friends were alive. She couldn't hate them, even as she remembered the shocked look on that monk's face as Haden's arrow went through his throat.

Jennsen had always known that the Seeker killed in his quest, but it was the first time she had seen him do so, and facing opponents who were clearly not his match.

She had been told all her life that Darken Rahl was a tyrant and that he did horrible things. But then Richard had tried to explain that away, telling her that they were not so different, the three remaining Rahls.

Thinking of Richard's face as he killed the monks and her own sense of shameful satisfaction that they were the victors in the battle, Jennsen thought she was beginning to understand.

Haden's thoughts were considerably less profound, though just as important to the thinker.

Jennsen could not get near the unicorn, though she had seemed to think she might be able to. Haden was very curious and very determined. She would find out why.

"Haden," Jennsen piped up, once again reminding Haden of a bird. She was an inquisitive little sparrow, ordinary until you saw it fly.

Birds were beautiful in flight.

"Haden?" Jennsen questioned again, aware that Haden hadn't heard a word she said.

Haden cursed her oddly poetic thoughts, blaming her uncharacteristic romanticism on the delicate flower of a woman who walked beside her.

"Yes?"

"I asked if you would teach me to shoot a bow."

Without thinking, Haden replied, "Anything for you, Sparrow."

-l-
The crowd was flinging itself against the gates, torches blazing. They had not responded well to the Mord'Sith's warning to surrender or retreat. Soon they would begin attempting to throw their torches over the wall.

Such was the scene when Darken and Cara arrived, Darken leaning heavily on his lover.

He straightened before they moved into full view, placing the key in his Rada Han and turning it. He gave the collar to Cara so that she could snap it back around his neck should he lose control.

The instant he was free of the enchanted prison, clouds began to gather above. Cara grasped his hand and he closed his eyes, breathing in and out and he thought calming thoughts.

The look of bliss on Hali's face as she welcomed him in the gardens of the afterlife.

The forgiveness of his son.

Cara's hand in his.

Clouds still gathered, but not as quickly.

He felt better, more aware than he had been while wearing the Rada Han, his barely controlled magic now having a place to go.

Striding onto the rampart, Darken prepared to address the crowd below. He kept Cara firmly at his side.

It was not only because he needed to lean on her.

The angry cry of the mob grew louder at the sight of him.

He addressed them in his general's voice, pitched easily to carry. He spoke of enemies within and without. He spoke of his relationship with his brother, the Seeker.

He spoke of his desire for a peaceful, safe kingdom where families could live together in peace.

They did not believe him, as he knew they would not.

The first torch flew through the air, the fire calling to Darken, compelling him, dancing along the fragile control he had on his han.

Lightning streaked from the sky, called by his bitter rage, striking a tree behind the crowd.

All drew back in fear.

Save Cara, who kept her hand firmly in his.

Focusing on his heart beat, breathing deeply through his nose, Darken reined his passion in, concentrating with all his fractured heart on his deepest, most private wish.

The torches of the mob and the smoldering remains of the lightning-struck tree were extinguished as the skies opened with soft rain.

The crowd looked at Darken Rahl with new eyes, surprised at the unexpected mercy as their anger fizzled with their torches.
Mercy in one hand, death in another.

Cara turned her face up, the warm drops caressing her skin.

She smiled, in case her son was watching.

She knew in a way without knowing, that the Creator cried proud tears.

Chapter 31: Peace
Peace
Haden kept watch over her sleeping companions. They would reach the People's Palace in another day, maybe two, barring anything unexpected. Things had been surprisingly quiet since they had rescued the unicorn.

It made Haden uneasy. In her experience quiet only occurred at the end of a battle and before a trap was sprung.

She did not have to have prophetic dreams to know which this was.

Kahlan slept curled against the unicorn, as she had since the creature had joined their travels. Her wrinkled brow told Haden that the Mother Confessor was dreaming the dream.

Should the Mother Confessor betray the Son of Blood, the world will fall, all magic erased.

The false light of pre-dawn began to turn everything a light grey. Haden enjoyed this moment, when there was absolute stillness before the creatures of the day began to stir.

As it did every morning, the unicorn eased itself from Kahlan's side, snorting at Haden in warning before it went in search of water and grazing.

That was what she assumed it did. The three attempts she had made to follow it had been met with loud whineys and admonishments from the Mother Confessor to "stop bothering the unicorn."

As if Haden was a child to be scolded.

Watching the unicorn exit their camp site, she idly considered attempting to follow it one last time. But it would no doubt end the same way, and Haden had heard Kahlan blather on enough to last more than one life time.

She was profoundly glad that the unicorn had not attached itself to Jennsen. Her innocent little Sparrow was not so innocent, it seemed.

And Haden was grateful.

-l-
Once out of sight of the redbadwoman, Sepina found water. She touched her horn to it three times, thinking of her mother.
Mother appeared in the water, ready to read all that Sepina had gleaned from the whitegoodwoman in Sepina's liquid black eyes.

...the world will fall, all magic erased.

Brother Jarl watched the dreams of the soul stealer, Kahlan Amnell, pleased with what he saw. With the help of Sepina, Tyrn's daughter, they would bring a new era to the Midlands, a time of peace and prosperity that would only be possible once the land had been cleansed of those who held stolen power.

With Tyrn's blessing, they would all live as they were meant to in the beginning, when Tyrn first touched the earth and brought life to man and all the creatures. A simple life, where children would not need to fear, where woman and men knew their places.

A world without monsters in the dark.

A world without wolves disguised as sheep.

A world where all were the same, exactly equal, none more powerful than the other.

A world that worshipped Tyrn and his brothers.

Jarl would lead the way - he would be the shepherd.

Looking up at Freya Kate, who concentrated on the water to maintain contact with her godly offspring, Jarl said, "Tell her this is what she must do."

Kate obeyed.

Receiving Mother's word, Sepina returned to whitegoodwoman, prepared to follow her another day. Mother said follow her, Mother said watch her dreams, Mother said...

-l-
As word spread of Darken Rahl's power - and his choice not to use it, the soldiers returned.

Some of them would have returned even without the incentive, their loyalty beyond question. The Third Battalion in particular, were perhaps overzealous in their celebration of Darken's return to power.

Cara sifted through piles of reports of the trail of "celebration" they had left in their wake as they made their way to the People's Palace - some in groups, others singly.

How had Egremont done all of this and remained sane? The Mord'Sith did not have such a rigid command structure, nor so much paperwork.

Just looking at it made Cara queasy.

She quickly broke off a piece of bread from the loaf she had begun keeping at her side, chewing slowly and swallowing before taking a deep breath.

The nausea passed.

She was surprised by the door opening, though she gave no outer sign. She had ordered that no one disturb her.
She turned, annoyed.

It was Darken, wearing only one of his vests and a pair of simple breeches he had ordered made to match. He had grown used to the greater freedom of movement they afforded on his travels. He looked better.

Not well, by any means.

But better.

They had discovered, after that day on the ramparts, that Darken faired much better if his Rada Han was removed once a day to allow him to dispel some of the magical energy his body constantly generated.

And so every morning Cara helped Darken to dress and removed his Rada Han. Then they went to the devotional balcony. Darken accepted the vows of those that had accepted him as lord once more.

And then he made it rain.

Cara's spies among the villages brought her whispers.

Some said he was the Keeper himself. Some said he was one of the Shadow People, an evil spirit that refused to leave the land of the living.

But others said that he was a king among kings and welcomed his rule. They were the ones who had been hit the hardest by the chaos following his demise. They craved the stability that he had offered them.

Still others spoke of seeing the Seeker, and the stories the Seeker told of Lord Rahl's heroism. They talked in hushed voices of how the Seeker called Darken Rahl "brother."

Of wolves and monks, there was no word.

Which meant that there was something worth knowing.

"You did not come to bed last night, Cara," Darken's voice snapped her back to the present.

He did not say I missed you.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Cara replied, sifting through paper once more. Her hair was a tangled mess, dark smudges under her eyes.

"You wouldn't have."

Overly hot hands brushed the back of Cara's neck as Darken began to gently untangle her hair. Her haggard appearance brought home to him just how much work - work that should rightfully rest on his shoulders - Cara was taking upon herself.
He cursed his weakness, cursed his inability, his poor training. It was a blow to his pride to see his kingdom ruled by another.

And a stab to the heart to see Cara so overworked, though he would never admit it.

He was already beginning to tremble from the mere act of standing so long. Seeing that he would not go back to bed, Cara waved him to a chair.

They spent the afternoon going through reports and strategizing together.

For Cara, it was an enormous burden lifted.

For Darken, it was both familiar and unfamiliar and carried with it an odd sense of peace, though they talked of war.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Mistress, my lord," the Mord'Sith stopped to bow, fist over her heart, "another group of soldiers has arrived, as well as Lord Rahl the Younger and his party."

Two brows, one golden, one ebony were raised in concert as a look was shared.

Lord Rahl the Younger?

"One other thing, mistress, my lord - the Mother Confessor travels with a unicorn."

Cara and Darken both began to issue orders at the same time, Cara stopping herself once she realized what she was doing.
Darken, in a sudden flash of insight, gestured for Cara to handle the matter.

After all, she had handled everything else with the level of competence he had come to expect from her long ago.

He was not his father.
Chapter 32: Mad
Mad
Soldiers in worn, ragtag uniforms milled about the main courtyard. They snuck looks at the party standing in the center, a low, constant muttering signaling their curiosity.

Jennsen caught a few words.

Confessor. Wizard. Seeker.

But the one that seemed to be said, again and again, was unicorn.

The Mord'Sith that they had first spoken with upon their arrival returned and began to organize the soldiers, sending them to what Jennsen supposed was the barracks.

Another Mord'Sith approached them, after a quiet conversation with the first.

She was rather striking, with hair so blond it was almost white, eyes of a startling red-pink, and skin like white marble.

Further, she was of small stature, with fine, delicate bone structure. Oddly small for a Mord'Sith, yet there was confidence in her step and wickedness in her expression.

She offered a quick bow, fist over heart, to Richard in greeting and then addressed Haden, a knowing smile on her face.
"Mistress Haden. Your return to the People's Palace has been much anticipated."

Haden had not told her companions of her promotion. Ignoring their questioning looks, which ranged from soft puzzlement to minor outrage, Haden answered, "It is Lord Rahl you should address, Aliandra. Or have your manners grown even worse since the last time I saw you?"

Aliandra reacted to the insult with a wide grin, which Haden returned, and it became apparent to all that they were old friends.
Jennsen disliked her immediately.

"Forgive my inattention, Lord Rahl," Aliandra addressed Richard once more. "I have orders to escort you and your companions to Lord Rahl the Elder and Mistress Cara once the Mother Confessor has stabled her...pet."

"Go ahead, Richard," Kahlan spoke up, "I'll get the unicorn settled and then meet you...wherever you're going."

Richard pulled her to the side, nervous now that they were surrounded by so many that used to be enemies.

Old habits died hard.

Richard thought of the damage just a single Mord'Sith was capable of doing, the scars Denna had left marking more than his flesh.

Very hard.

And very dead.

"Will you be alright?" he asked Kahlan in a hushed voice, glancing over his shoulder at the unicorn that even now watched him with agitation.

Kahlan smiled, though there was tension around her eyes that only those who knew her well would notice. "Richard, I'll be fine. Besides," mischief crept into her tone, "I'll have the unicorn with me, and I highly doubt any of them will be able to approach her."

Reassured at finding that the unicorn did have some uses after all, Richard nodded and let Kahlan go.

Aliandra called a page boy to show Kahlan where she might keep the unicorn. The mythical creature seemed to accept the boy readily enough, and followed placidly at Kahlan's side.

"Now, Lord Rahl, wizard, Mistress Haden, my lady," Aliandra extended a hand, "shall we?"
She was very chipper, almost upbeat.

Jennsen frowned, making sure she stayed near Haden.

Whoever had heard of red eyes being attractive?

And white hair? How silly.

-l-
Darken stood as the door opened to reveal his brother, followed by the wizard, his sister, and the Mord'Sith he recognized as Haden. He clenched his teeth against the black spots that swam over his vision at the sudden movement.

Cara moved to stand behind Darken, prepared to catch him if he fell, knowing the blow to his pride it would be for Richard to see him so weak.

There was Richard, as wholesome as Darken remembered, if a tad unkempt. Their sister followed close behind. She watched him with wide blue eyes.

Darken was startled to realize that they were the same color as his own. He had forgotten, allowed the memories to fade of the days he had spent looking into those eyes, telling lies.

And truths.

Richard was shocked at how bad Darken and Cara looked. Cara seemed exhausted, and Darken... If Richard didn't know any better, he'd say he was a baneling.

"Are you wearing a Rada Han?" he blurted without thinking.

Startled into a laugh that shook his frame, Darken replied, "Tactful as ever, brother."

Richard strode forward to grip Darken's forearm. Darken returned the gesture, though his grip was not as firm as it should have been.

"I told you we'd meet again."

"So you did."

The moment was broken by Zedd stepping forward to lay his hands on Darken's temples, even going so far as to pull on one of his eyelids to study the orb beneath.

"By all means, Zeddicus," Darken said dryly, "have your way with me."

An indelicate snort followed by bright laughter had all eyes on Jennsen. She paid them no mind. She had determinedly not thought of what it would be like to see Rahl again. To find him making jokes while Grandfather manhandled him...

It was very, very funny. And a great relief.

"You've arrived in time for dinner," Cara said, ignoring Darken's apparently mad sister.

There was one in every generation.

"Go without us," Zedd said, still examining Darken's vital signs, "he needs his first lesson immediately."

Chapter 33: Friends
Friends
Darken took Zeddicus to the room he had originally used to practice his magic. It was already damaged, and the furniture already cleared. It would be ideal should something…go awry.

Once settled, Darken removed his Rada Han, immediately clamping down on his han to prevent something explosive from happening. As always, he was unable to contain it all. Raindrops could be heard outside as his magic took the path of least resistance, the one he had forged for it as an outlet.

Zedd watched the whole process thoughtfully. He could feel Hali standing at his side, though he knew that if he looked, she would not be there.

A chance to right a wrong. To guide a life.

"Lesson number one," Zedd mused, "to hold water, relax your hand."

Darken said nothing, but his look spoke volumes.

Outside, it rained harder.

"You're trying too hard," Zedd explained, huffing. "Your han is like water. You can direct it, and you can contain it, but only if you are flexible. It was not like this when it first manifested, correct? It's only gotten worse, the harder you try to control it."

Eyeing the rigid way the boy held himself and the tension in his jaw, Zedd continued, "This is going to take longer than I thought."

-l-
Cara had the formal dining hall prepared, though it had not been used since Darken's return. There had not been need for it.
She barely noticed what was served at the table - her mind was spinning with all she needed to tell her friends, and all of the questions she had for them, about wolves, and monks, unicorns…

The Son of Blood.

She rubbed her bone amulet, then took her seat at the table to the left of the empty throne at the head that was reserved for Darken. She seated Richard to the right of the throne.

It was very deliberate. Darken needed a new general, a brave man that all would follow without question. A man who could be trusted.

Who better than the Seeker?

When Kahlan arrived, she frowned at the arrangement, but said nothing, merely meeting Cara's eyes, a frown on her face. Cara had not expected Kahlan to abandon her post at Aydindril.

If Richard did not recognize the significance of the seating arrangement, Kahlan did.

Haden and Jennsen sat across from one another, Haden next to Cara and Jennsen next to Richard, as the hierarchy dictated. Kahlan was left to take the next seat down by Jennsen, the only one present who did not hold rank in D'Hara.
"There is a lot to talk about," Kahlan said as she sat and began filling her plate from the communal platters on the table. It was not the sort of food she expected to see served by a ruler. She wondered just how much D'Hara had lost when Rahl's reign of terror had been brought to an end.

"We should wait for Darken and Zedd," was Cara's reply.

They lapsed into talks of the good old days, stories of battles, of maneuvers gone awry. Haden had a rather funny story to tell about Cara, made all the funnier by her customary stoicism. Cara allowed herself to be amused, adding the detail that that particular soldier would limp for the rest of his life.

Haden asked for the platter of meat to be passed and Richard did so, the roasted slices of pork passing right under Cara's nose.

She leaned back while simultaneously bowing her head forward so her hair would cover her face. Swallowing convulsively as she groped for her cup, she held her breath to keep from vomiting.

She coughed, the taste of sick in her mouth, but she was able to master her nausea with the help of the cool water in her cup.
The others were still in the grip of some story Richard was telling of how Kahlan had tried to kill him when they first met. Cara did not think anyone had noticed.

Jennsen watched Cara, took note of how pale she was and the aversion she seemed to have to the pork on the table, and began to wonder.

The rain stopped.

-l-
Learning to let go was the hardest thing Darken would ever have to do. He was a man of extremes, high passions that he ruled with an iron fist. He kept himself under tight control, like a snake, always coiled to spring. It was the practice of a lifetime, the product of all he had been through as a boy, and then a man.

All Zedd's fault.

When Hali had said that he would have the chance to right a wrong, he had not realized how profound the statement was.
Darken Rahl needed Zedd's help. And Zedd…

Was being given the chance to help him become the man he could have been without Zedd's interference. The man who might have been born whole, to different parents, if Zedd had not been so arrogant as to play Creator.

It was dangerous and altogether humbling to delve into the inner workings of the mind of Darken Rahl.

They had been enemies far longer than friends. Still, in the bottom of Zedd's heart, there burned a flame of anger and distrust for the House of Rahl.

But always when he examined that part of himself, he saw only his own eyes looking back at him.

The easing of Darken's unyielding grasp on his magic, his emotions, did not come easily, cleanly, or all at once.
But it came.

It wavered, it was fragile, it would require more practice, but it was there.

"I think that is enough for today," Zedd said to the weary Darken.

Darken opened his eyes, sweat pouring from his face. He had the dragon of all headaches.

But his skin was cooler to the touch.

He slipped the Rada Han around his sore neck, clicking the lock into place.

Zedd went to leave as if he knew his way about the palace.

But then, Darken remembered with shock, the wizard did know his way around the halls.

He and Darken's father had been friends. Very good friends.

"Zeddicus," Darken said, still seated on the floor, "why are you helping me?"

Zedd turned back, bushy eyebrows raised in question.

"Where are the dire predictions, the clichés about power and corruption? Where is the doubt and the fear, the declaration of my devilry?"

Zedd smiled, realization flooding through him with the touch of an invisible hand. His heart beat twice.
"I think you know the answer."

Their eyes met for one heartbeat, two, as they remembered the sound of waves crashing against sand and the light that flowed through the Stone of Tears.

Hali.

"Come," Darken said as he stood, "we'll miss dinner."

Chapter 34: Lady
Lady
Kahlan thrashed, the comforts she was afforded as an honored guest of Lord Rahl doing nothing to still her nightmares.
The tree and the sapling, the rose in between. The voice of the Dreamcaster, the cry of the Starless Blackbird.
But this time her unicorn was among the wolves, and they were tearing it apart.

"Sepina!" her dream self screamed, and Kahlan knew that was the unicorn's name.

But Kahlan could not move, could not help. She was rooted to the spot, suddenly small and tangled among the leaves of the white rose.

Kahlan, an insidious voice that had no sound whispered to her heart, trust no one, trust only yourself.

The tree and the sapling, both enormous to her, blocked the rays of the sun. The rose died, its withered stems becoming her tomb.

Trust no one else, you must stand alone.

In the stables, Sepina watched the full moon from her stall, withered white roses reflected in her eyes.

-l-
Cara was examining her maps and ordering her notes in the room she had come to think of as the council chamber well before the sun rose.

After Darken and Zedd had finally made it to the dining hall the night before, it had been decided that political matters would be discussed the next day, when everyone had rested. Cara had intended to catch up on much-needed sleep.

But she had been unable to rest, plagued by a night-long nausea she couldn't fight.

She had finally slipped from Darken's suite, lest the sound of her retching wake him.

She could not afford his questions.

The door opened. Cara looked up to see Jennsen Rahl, dressed as befitted her station and carrying a tray that held two cups, a pot of tea, as well as a few pieces of toasted bread.

"Hello," she said rather shyly, hovering in the doorway. Cara motioned her forward, hoping that she would be able to get rid of her quickly, her exhaustion and sour stomach making her more recalcitrant than usual.

Jennsen set the tray on one of the many tables, careful of all the parchment scattered about. Turning to Cara, she gestured self consciously at the rich lavender gown she wore, the satin contrasting beautifully with her skin. "My dress was gone when I woke up," she seemed compelled to explain, "there were a dozen or so like this in my closet."

There was an awkward pause.

Jennsen poured the tea, carefully bringing a cup to Cara, offering it to her with both hands. "Here," she said, compassion lighting her face, "I noticed that you might be…not feeling well. This should help."

Warily, Cara took the proffered cup, taking a sip.

"It will take a moment to work," Jennsen added, twisting her hands nervously now that they were not occupied.

It was true. Cara did feel noticeably better.

"They were made for you," Cara said shortly.

"What?"

"The gowns. They were made for you when Darken thought you might return to him with the boxes. He thought you liked purple."

"Oh," was the most intelligent thing Jennsen could think of to say, her mind buzzing with the thought that her brother had planned on her return, had made arrangements for her comfort.

Did he still have her kitten?

"Lady Rahl -"

"Please don't," Jennsen interrupted, "we both know I'm not anyone's lady."

Cara shrugged, her stomach settled enough that she found she was interested to see what Jennsen had brought to eat. Once Jennsen had distributed the buttered, toasted bread and jam, they ate in companionable silence as the sun rose over the horizon, changing the false grey light of pre-dawn to a bright morning glow.

"But you are. Someone's lady, I mean," Jennsen added, looking pointedly at Cara's abdomen.

Cara watched the smaller woman's face, studied the way her muscles played under her skin. Idly, she ran a finger over the amulet at her throat.

"Darken doesn't know," she said at last. "He can't know."

Jennsen leaned forward, intent on placing her hand against the very slight swell of Cara's stomach, saying, "But -"

Cara stopped the contact before it was made with a grip that bruised, expression fierce. "He can't know. Swear to it!"

Mutely, Jennsen nodded, her lips parted. She felt like a mouse in the shadow of a hawk.

Abruptly, Cara let her go, leaving Jennsen to examine the red handprint swiftly fading to a mottled purple that adorned her wrist.

"What," Cara said, back to Jennsen as she ordered papers, "will it take to buy your silence?"

"Why don't you want him to know?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

Growing more confident as she realized the Mord'Sith wouldn't or couldn't truly hurt her, Jennsen retorted, "You do if you want me to keep quiet."

Suddenly Cara was so close Jennsen could feel her body heat, green eyes like chips of jade burning angrily into her own. "He needs me. I will not be sent away somewhere safe while the kingdom crumbles and a new enemy attacks!"

The voice was low, but the hairs on Jennsen's arms rose just the same.

Jennsen opened her mouth to say she didn't want anything, when a thought occurred to her.

"There is one thing I want," Jennsen said, looking up into Cara's face. "No, two things."

There was a spark in the redhead's blue eyes that was altogether familiar to Cara.

She decided she liked Jennsen.

Chapter 35: Right
Right
"And then Zedd found a book written by this old wizard -"

"The First Wizard of the First Era," Zedd supplied.

"Right, him," Richard continued, "and it had a prophecy that mentioned the Son of Blood."

The Son of Blood will rise with the howling of wolves and the flight of birds.
Doomed love will give him birth, sacrifice his cradle.
Loved and hated in equal measure, the world rests in his hands.

"And what of the unicorn?" Darken asked from his position reclined in the window seat, looking out over the palace grounds.

"Met by chance," Zedd said as he examined the maps of the council chamber, "rescued from those troubling monks that seem to be popping up everywhere."

"The monks," Cara began, "seem to be the root of the problem." She directed them all to the map she had spent so much time marking with colored stones, explaining what each color stood for. "So you can see," she concluded, "that the monks arrive, and are shortly followed by the wolves, death, and the people's refusal to -"

"Bend to the will of the tyrant they thought themselves free of?" Kahlan's voice rang across the chamber.

Cara snapped her head up, surprised.

Kahlan's lips were pressed into a tight white line. She wasn't sure what had come over her.

Or was it something wrong with them? How could she trust any of them, when they all seemed so corrupt? After all, she was the Mother Confessor, the rightful ruler of the Midlands.

Wasn't she?

She blinked, confused.

"Kahlan," Richard said, a pained note in his voice, a silent pleading.

She nodded for Cara to continue.

Cara did, though the atmosphere of the room had changed.

She detailed the amount of damage done to the kingdom, the subjects that had returned to take the devotional oath in the mornings, the number of Mord'Sith dead or missing, the frustrating inability of her spies to root out information on the monks, the towns that chased anyone with a hint of magic from their midst - the list went on.

"What you are saying, mistress," Haden assessed, "is that we are in the middle of a war that only we are aware of, with no idea exactly who we are fighting."

Pinning Haden with a sardonic glance, Cara replied, "In a word? Yes."

"Brother," Darken said from the window seat, having been paying close attention to all that went on despite his apparently relaxed attitude, "you will examine the troops and consult with Cara and myself on how they may best be used. Haden," the Mord'Sith snapped to attention, "you shall assist Cara in whatever she requires. Obey her as if she were me."

Haden saluted.

Darken turned back to the window, idly rubbing his lip with the second finger of his right hand.

The others took that as a sign that the meeting was over.

Kahlan went to spend time with Sepina, fearing that she would grow lonely in a palace where only a few were capable of approaching her. After a word from Cara, Haden left the room, quick strides suggesting she had been given orders. Jennsen wandered out after her, disappointed at being overlooked.

Cara returned to her maps and papers, Richard lingering behind her.

"In the practice room then, my boy?" Zedd said to Darken.

"In a moment, Zeddicus, it seems my brother wants to speak with me."

Richard opened his mouth, turning red.

"Oh, come now, Richard, if you thought any louder, I could hear you as well as if I were Listener."

Sighing, Richard asked, "Did you just make me a general?"

Turning from the window, Darken stood to look at his younger sibling. "Essentially."

"Why?"

Far away, and yet right at Richard's side, Darken murmured, "It puts everything right. How it should have been, all along."

Silence.

"I don't want the position. I just want to be Richard."

With a sudden, inappropriate laugh, Darken clapped his brother ironically on the back, saying, "And you think I want mine? People think that I enjoy being Lord Rahl - that my life is a vale of pleasure. It is fortunate that I learned to control my reactions at an early age, or surely my continual laughter would have led them to conclude I'm mad."

Surprised, Richard asked, "So why did you come back?"

Darken did not answer.

He didn't have one.

But Richard did.

His brother returned because the land needed a ruler and Darken Rahl was eminently suited to it.

He returned because it was the right thing to do.

That was what Richard believed. Even if Darken didn't.

It puts everything right. How it should have been, all along.

Richard thought that he and his brother might want the same thing.

A place to be safe.

And a family.

Chapter 36: Doubt
Doubt
Haden stood with Lord Rahl the Younger as they drilled the troops. Richard Rahl was a good leader, one of those men that inspired loyalty without trying. Many of the men would follow him whether or not they respected him as a scion of the House of Rahl.

For the others, there was Haden.

She knocked a surly laggard to the ground, planting a booted foot on his back as she drew her Agiel, the low hum making the man sweat.

"Lord Rahl gave you an order. Did you not hear him?" She asked in a soft pleasant voice. She brought her Agiel ever closer to his face, allowing him to hear the increased volume of its torturous whine.

"Haden, no," Lord Rahl said softly.

Haden looked up, studying the boyish face of her younger master. She sheathed her Agiel, moving away from the downed soldier.

Richard helped the man up, giving Haden a look of gratitude.

"Disobey me again, and I won't stop her."

And just like that, he had the man's loyalty.

Haden was not certain if Lord Rahl the Younger understood the service she had just performed for him.

But she didn't care. She had done her duty.

The drills resumed, the soldiers striving harder than they had before.

Richard's attention wandered. Kahlan could be seen walking with her unicorn in the pasture beyond the training field.
"Mistress," a figure on horseback called.

Haden approached, finding that it was Aliandra, tacked to ride far and armed to the teeth.

"I am to ride to every temple of the Mord'Sith," she said before Haden had a chance to ask, "and gather messages and reports for Lord Rahl and our First Mistress."

"An honor," Haden said, shortly.

"You would think," Aliandra replied, looking over Haden's head.

Haden turned. Mistress Cara stood on the wall overlooking the training field, Jennsen at her side, their hair flowing around their faces as the wind blew from the south.

"I think a little birdie has been chirping in our mistress' ear," Aliandra continued, small white face sharp, red-pink eyes like twin drops of blood. "I have been turned into a glorified messenger."

Haden said nothing.

Aliandra snorted. "This is why I enjoy your company so, Haden. You have the pristine gift of silence." She waggled her brows suggestively. "Or is another 'pristine gift' you have on your mind?"

Quick as a swooping falcon, Haden struck the rump of Aliandra's mount, startling the horse into a full gallop.

Aliandra cursed, bouncing in the saddle, but the recriminations soon turned to laughter that lingered even when she faded from sight.

Haden returned to the practice field at Richard's call.

-l-
"Yes," Zedd encouraged, hands held out as if he were the one guiding the magic, "exactly like that!"

Darken exhaled, opening his eyes and twisting his wrist in the same moment.

Lightning arched from a blue sky, striking slightly to the left of the stump Zeddicus had set as his target.

Zedd was about to suggest ways to improve his aim when Darken tightened his jaw, his fingers curling into a fist.

Lightning scorched the air again, this time blowing the stump to splinters, the clap of thunder that followed like a death knell.
"You're learning quickly," Zedd said.

"Much of the theory was taught to me in my youth," was the quiet reply.

Their eyes met, and Zedd was filled with doubt at the fire that burned in the gaze of his pupil. Fire was a dangerous affinity, a lustful passion that consumed all.

He would know.

"Destructive forces are easy to summon," Zedd cautioned, "but difficult to control. And true power…" His gaze turned heavenward. "True power lies in healing."

Reminding himself to flow like water, Darken called the lightning down, setting the wasted spit of land they practiced on ablaze. Before the fire could rage out of control, Darken extinguished it with a motion, growing comfortable at last with the push and pull of his han.

"True power," he mused aloud. "I suppose that is a matter of opinion."

Zedd frowned.

"Hali -"

"Hali is dead," Darken intoned, voice harsh, his frustration getting the better of him.

Clouds began to gather overhead. Praying to the Creator for patience, Zedd pointed upwards to show Darken his control was slipping.

He had such doubt.

-l-
Brother Gudrun led the chosen village girls into the meadow selected as the location for the Rite of the Goddess.

"Tyrn has blessed us with more of his divine children," he said to the girls gently. "And now they will choose which of you are worthy of serving our divine master. Come forward, and be judged."

The girls ranged from the grubby poor to the well-dressed daughters of the village headman. Their parents waited on the edge of the meadow, ready to bear witness to either their daughter's shame or elevation into the ranks of the Sisterhood of the Goddesses.

Five creatures that appeared to be white horses at first glance emerged from the trees at the opposite end of the meadow. Every single heart skipped a beat, a collective hush as all forgot to breathe.

"They're so beautiful," whispered the miller's wife.

One of the older maids, sure of her success, or perhaps mesmerized by the beauty of the unicorns, ran forward to meet them.

She got close enough to touch before they converged on her, ramming her with their wickedly sharp horns, trampling her body as her blood flew through the air.

"She has been found unworthy," Brother Gudrun said unnecessarily.

No one moved.

The girl's mother cried. Her father spat, torn between sorrow and embarrassment.

"She doubted the gods; her soul was impure."

The unicorns examined the remaining girls. No others were killed, though they were viciously warned away.
At last, five were chosen and stood standing with a hand on their new companion.

"Welcome," Brother Gudrun said, though he, too, kept his distance. "Be true to your godly guardian, and go forth to do the work of Tyrn."

Chapter 37: Fear
Fear
"Kahlan," Richard called as he broke into a light run to catch up with her before she entered the stables, "I haven't gotten to see much of you lately."

He didn't say because of the unicorn.

She turned, her face blank before wrinkling into a frown. "You're wearing his crest."

Richard looked down at his clothes, the red vest bearing the eagle crest of the House going well with his black breeches. It was simpler than his brother's robes, which he appreciated.

"It's my crest too," he said softly.

He reached out to brush his knuckles over Kahlan's cheek and her face cleared, her hand coming up to cover his.
"Richard?"

"Kahlan, what is it?"

"I need to go see Sepina. She gets lonely."

"Kahlan, you spend every waking minute with her. I'm sure she'll be fine for a little while." His voice broke with a desperation he had been trying hard to deny. "I miss you."

She stared.

Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her. Suddenly she was alive with passion, her arms twining around him. She clung to him, and he to her, as if they were two vines meant to grow together.

Just as abruptly as it had started, it ended with Kahlan pushing him away.

"The prophecy," she said through clenched teeth as if she fought for every word uttered.

"You can't hurt me, Kahlan. I can't possibly love you more than I do. And if you are meant to have a son -"

"Go!" she cut him off, turning her back.

As he walked away, dejected, Kahlan's breath returned to normal, her eyes going dull. She made her way to Sepina's stall.

-l-
The Mord'Sith and those who served in their temple on the palace grounds grew used to the sight of Lord Rahl's sister. She was often about, whether she was following Mistress Haden or First Mistress Cara. She had become a fixture in the palace. Though it had only been a short time, if asked the denizens of the palace would swear that Jennsen Rahl had always lived there.

And in fact, she felt that way. She was comfortable with the way the palace worked, she had made friends with the kitchen staff and the laundry maids, and she was safe from even the most unscrupulous soldier due to her status and popularity.
There was only one person she was not comfortable around, and that was her brother, Darken Rahl.

She was not sure what she feared more. That she would find she loved him, or that he was the monster the world painted him as.

And then there was the secret she carried. She doubted she could hide anything from that piercing gaze. It reminded her of the books she had read of times when dragons still flew the skies.

It was said that entire populations stood still as their livestock was devoured, all caught in the hypnotizing swirl of the dragon's enormous eye.

"Help me pull this tight," Cara said from across the chamber.

She had begun to spend more and more nights in her old rooms in the temple as her condition became more difficult to hide at close quarters.

Darken did not seem troubled by it.

She did not know if he sought pleasurable company elsewhere. She did not ask. She didn't want to know.

In the end it didn't matter. He would return to her.

He always did.

Jennsen picked up the protective corset that Mord'Sith traditionally wore over their abdomens, just beneath the breasts. It would do much to hide the swell highlighted by the red leather bodysuit Cara wore.

"Are you sure?" Jennsen asked. "I don't think it can be good for you."

"Are you a midwife?" Cara inquired irritably, rolling her eyes. "Just help me put it on."

"I'm the closest thing you've got," Jennsen retorted without venom. She began to fasten the buckles and straps, though she determinedly left a half-inch of breathing room in each one.

"Cara, you really should tell someone. I only know what I picked up from all the resistance fighters who hid me, and you can't hide it forever."

"I can hide it long enough," was Cara's retort. She eyed the small redheaded woman who had inexplicably become her friend, then said, "I sent Aliandra away, as you asked."

Jennsen made a non-committal sound, at odds with herself over the favors she had asked in exchange for her silence.
When had she become this person?

An image of Mistress Denna flashed through her mind, her own voice bargaining for her mother's life.

Maybe she had always been Jennsen Rahl.

"The other thing you asked for will arrive soon," Cara went on. She cut herself off, a peculiar look coming over her face.
Recognizing the signs, Jennsen rushed to get the basin they kept on hand, getting it to Cara just in time for the Mord'Sith to be violently ill.

"I'll go get some water," Jennsen said once Cara had stopped heaving. "There's some in your hair."

Cara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then pinched the bridge of her nose. Jennsen pushed her hair away from her pale face.

A Mord'Sith burst into the room, eyes going wide to see Lady Rahl standing so close to the First Mistress, face turned up and hands tangled in blond hair.

"What is it?" Cara snapped.

Jennsen wrinkled her nose at the vomit-scented air that wafted over her face.

"An urgent message from Mistress Bronwyn, the caravan bringing Lord Rahl's gold here has been attacked."

"Get Lord Rahl-both of them-and Zedd. Now."

Cara stepped back from Jennsen, going to the wall that was covered in racks of weapons.

"You can't go."

Cara selected a crossbow from the wall.

"What if something happens?" Jennsen put her hands on her hips.

Sometimes she thought she was the only one in the entire castle that had any sense.

"We need that gold to pay our soldiers. We need the soldiers to reclaim the territories and protect our people. Go get Haden and Kahlan. I'll meet you in the council chamber."

Face red, but knowing she wouldn't get anywhere if she argued, Jennsen turned to go.

So quiet, she almost didn't hear it, Cara said, "Jennsen? Thank you."

A/N: Whoo! 50 reviews, you guys rock! But can we make it to 100? Tell you what - if we make it to 100, I will write a short fic for the two most frequent reviewers, and one for the 100th reviewer! Prompt and LotS characters of your choice!

Son of Blood: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII - Trailer - Fanart: Set I, Set II, Set III, Set IV

Blood from a Stone: Part I , Part II , Part III , Part IV , Part V , Part VI , Trailer