Changing Stripes Is Hard to Do
By Gwenneth

Disclaimer: NOT MINE. Not making money. There you go.

Summary: AU. What could have happened if the D'Haran captain in Deception wasn't so hot to try and fight Richard? And what if Garrick's brother wanted a little payback for his death? This is part tv show canon from the episode, and then a major departure. Not sure how many chapters it will be.

Richard stood before Kahlan, his heart and mind divided.

She had just infiltrated the D'Haran post where he had been masquerading as Carver Dunn, and told him that the freedom fighters were about to attack the village of Grayson – where Captain Ensor's family lived. Richard could see the woman and her children in his mind's eye and he could feel his heart and mind waging war.

On one hand, he knew he couldn't just waltz up to the Captain and tell him what he knew, it would break his cover and he wouldn't be able to escape. No, he was going to have to do something about this himself. The element of surprise would afford him and Kahlan enough time to get away.

He wasn't going to let any more innocent people die if he could do something to stop it.

"Go," he whispered to Kahlan, his own muscles already gearing for the sprint to the nearby horse and spring into the saddle, which he wasted no time accomplishing as Kahlan beelined for the next nearest animal.

She flung the cloak from her shoulders and drew the Sword of Truth from the scabbard at her hip. As it glinting in the sun and glided through the air, he could almost feel its power. When it hit the palm of his hand and glowed as the magic within it and the magic in him combined, he let his gaze shift to Captain Ensor.

The man's eyes held the deepest level of betrayal Richard had ever seen.

For a moment, they stared at each other.

That moment was broken soon after when the sergeant shouted, "He's the Seeker!" and Ensor seemed to snap out of his daze of hurt and shock and ordered the gates closed. Richard touched his heels sharply to the horse's flanks and he and Kahlan made their escape – Ensor's expression burned into Richard's mind as they rode swiftly away.

In the D'Haran post…

"Sir?"

Captain Ensor blinked, his eyes having been riveted to the gates a man he had thought a friend had just ridden through. He had wanted so badly to believe Carver earlier, which is why he hadn't immediately killed him. And when that woman had come, claiming to be his wife and then appearing to be for all intents and purposes, he had let out a sigh of relief.

After all, the man had made his young son smile for the first time in months and his wife had instantly taken to the young soldier who she thought was protecting her husband while he was away. But all his hopes for a friend and confidant and another set of eyes to watch out for his family were squashed seconds ago when the man's real identity was revealed.

He turned to the sergeant. "Gather the men, we're going after them. I have a bone to pick with the Seeker."

His orders were quickly relayed and in only minutes the garrison was emptying out and Ensor was leading his troops to battle. And as he rode, the captain wondered if it would be hard to kill the Seeker after he had gotten to know and respect him as Carver Dunn.

Meanwhile…

Richard couldn't believe what was happening. He had just spent considerably more time masquerading as a D'Haran than he had ever imagined he would and now he was fighting against a man who was on his side. Or at least what the man thought was his side, since Richard wasn't about to let the man kill innocent women and children no matter how many innocents had died at their relatives' hands.

As he locked swords with Garrick, he realized something. While many in the Midlands might support his mission and claim to be helping him in it, in reality some of them were doing this purely for revenge. Like Garrick and his followers. Kahlan had told him that was why they were attacking Grayson.

Richard understood revenge. When he had seen his father bleeding to death and then held him as he finally succumbed to his injury, the young man had felt a rage like no other and when he had picked up the Sword of Truth it had multiplied tenfold. He could have killed dozens of D'Harans, and possibly even innocents, in that rage. So he knew how Garrick and the men felt.

He was about to try to reason with the man again when the sound of horses thundered into the clearing, atop them sitting red-clad D'Haran soldiers. In the lead was a torn-looking Captain Ensor, whose eyes met Richard's and took in the odd display of Seeker and Confessor battling against their own forces.

But that wasn't enough to stop him and he immediately drew his sword and ordered his men to take them all out. And standing at the edge of the battle, as D'Haran commanders were wont to do, he watched as his former friend cut down his soldiers like they were nothing but stationary saplings.

The ease with which he struck the men down, one by one, was astounding and not for the first time, Captain Ensor wondered what it would have been like to have a man like Carver – no, Richard – fighting with him. And for the first time – he wondered why he fought for Darken Rahl. Was the man really the more powerful of the two? Would the Seeker defeat Rahl and then slaughter all the men who fought under him? He had just been fighting his own men, was he that ruthless?

His inattention was broken and his eyes quickly drawn when one of the rebels lifted a Whisperer into the air and shouted for them all to stop fighting as the weapon slowly revolved in his hands. "If you don't leave, all of you, I'm going to set this off and then we'll all die!" the man shouted, a vengeful glitter in his dark eyes. "And we're close enough to the village that all those people there will die too!"

Ensor's heart leapt into his throat as he realized the man was right. The village was within sight distance, definitely less than a league away from them. If that Whisperer went off it would wipe out every man, woman and child in the place. The captain looked then at the sharp set to the Seeker's shoulders and wondered what he was thinking. If he was going to do something or just let his family, who he had appeared to like, die like acceptable losses.

"How do we know that once we're gone you won't just kill them all anyway?" the Seeker finally said, surprising Ensor with the anger in his voice – anger for a Loyalist village's occupants.

The rebel smiled then, a smile that was full of malice and was oddly enough directed at the Seeker. "That's just a chance you'll have to take, isn't it?" He said, gripping the Whisperer tighter. It looked like the man had no intentions of keeping his promise to let the villagers live. And he was prepared to die to see this through.

Ensor gripped his sword, looking for a way to signal an archer or to act himself.

But he was quickly relieved of the task when the Seeker exchanged a look with the woman who'd come to the garrison for him – the Confessor. And seconds later the witch was flinging a dagger into the heart of the man holding the Whisperer.

But it must have been slightly off mark since he didn't just drop to the ground like a stone. He stumbled and looked at the Seeker in shock, but his face quickly melded into a look of resolve mixed with pain. And he drew his arm back and threw the Whisperer toward Grayson with as much strength as he could muster.

Ensor involuntarily took a step forward as it somersaulted through the air into the grass up the hill from them. The sergeant yelled for everyone to run for their lives, and all the D'Harans and all the rebels save one, did so, leaving Ensor, the Seeker and the Confessor in the field.

With dread, the captain began to run up the hill, noticing that the Seeker had done the same thing. Odd. He was risking his life staying here. Why hadn't he run?

When the man flung himself to the ground and harshly twisted the Whisperer he had discovered to a halt, Ensor had his answer. He had stayed to stop the weapon and save the village. A Loyalist village. A place where he would have been captured and shipped to Darken Rahl if he had turned up there as himself.

Ensor couldn't help but wonder - who was this man; because he wasn't like anyone that Ensor had ever met before. He decided he was going to find out what had happened here before jumping to conclusions. So he hauled the Seeker to his feet and then stepped back a step as the man regained his footing and held the Sword of Truth down at his side.

"You betrayed me!" He said quietly. It wasn't what he had meant to say, but it had come out. He plunged on before the man could respond to that accusation. "But you were fighting the rebels. Why?"

The look on the Seeker's face was so innocent. It irked Ensor. This man had killed countless D'Haran soldiers and yet he, a D'Haran captain who had just lost soldiers at this man's sword, was thinking to himself that the man looked so young and pure.

It was an odd feeling.

The Seeker spoke and his friend Carver's voice came out of the traitor's mouth. "They were going to attack Grayson," he said earnestly.

Ensor snorted. "What do you care about a Loyalist settlement," he said, his eyes narrowed. Maybe the Seeker had plans for the women and children of Grayson. Maybe he wanted to use them somehow. This man was his enemy after all.

Wasn't he?

The Seeker's eyes widened almost comically at Ensor's words, which again surprised the captain. Richard looked at him like he was some sort of oddity for suggesting the Seeker would let a village be decimated because of its loyalties. "My mission is to defeat Darken Rahl, not kill innocent women and children," he said incredulously. "I don't go around punishing the masses like Rahl does. He employed those Whisperers on whole villages just because they gave me food and shelter for a night. He's an evil tyrant and he is my target. Not D'Harans in general."

He looked at the sword in Ensor's scabbard, which the captain was holding rather tightly as he appeared to contemplate the Seeker's words. Wearily, the man looked up finally and met Richard's eyes. "Thank you for saving my family," he said. "But I must do my duty."

Ensor drew his sword with a metallic zing. He knew he stood next to no chance against the Sword of Truth and the Seeker, but he had to fight. He was a D'Haran commander and he had pledged his allegiance to Darken Rahl. And he knew what happened to those who betrayed Rahl. He wouldn't let his family pay the consequences.

Richard shook his head, but did raise his own sword. "I don't want to fight you," he said with as weary a voice as Ensor's. As if he was as tired of the fighting as the D'Haran before him. And maybe he was. It was a lot of pressure being the Seeker, the captain imagined.

As they clashed blades, Ensor was aware of the Confessor's approach and waited for the pain of her dagger in his back. But to his surprise, Richard stopped her with a quick "I've got this" and continued to fight on his own. Not that he would have needed the help, since he was making short work of Ensor's defenses and in moments the older man's blade was on the ground and the Seeker's sword was at his throat.

Ensor sighed. "Do your duty, Seeker."

As the sword trembled at his throat, and the anger which fueled the Seeker's swordfighting began to fade, Ensor said silent goodbyes to his family just over the rise. He had fought a good fight. He had done his duty and faced the Seeker, his Lord's enemy. And now he would face his fate with dignity and honor. He could only hope the Seeker wouldn't hurt his family or his village.

But instead of the cold steel of the Seeker's blade in his body, the sword wavered again and Richard spoke. "Go home to your family," he said, pulling the sword away now. Ensor looked up, his heart thudding painfully in his chest, to see a look of compassion in the Seeker's eyes now. Compassion for him. An enemy who would have killed him a moment ago.

"Who are you?" Ensor whispered, slumping on his knees in the grass at the Seeker's feet. "You confuse me. You infiltrated my garrison, you befriended my son and my wife, and then you turn out to be the Seeker – D'Hara's greatest enemy. And now, you fight rebels and save D'Harans and spare my life. Who are you? You are not like any man I've ever met."

The Confessor answered him, to the captain's surprise. "He is the Seeker of Truth, captain, not the harbinger of death to all D'Harans. He seeks to defeat Rahl and free everyone from his tyranny, innocent D'Harans too, if need be," she said, coming to stand at the Seeker's elbow.

Ensor looked between the two for a long moment. He didn't really know what to do from here. Should he just get up and go back to his family. Should he let the D'Harans believe he was dead, move his family to another village and start over? Should he try to subdue the Seeker again, for Lord Rahl? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an arrow twanging off a bowstring.

The captain felt compelled to call out a warning, "Behind you!"

Unfortunately, the Seeker wasn't quite fast enough and when he spun to face the threat, the arrow from the rebel's crossbow slammed into his left side, parting the chainmail links like butter and imbedding firmly in the young man's flesh.

He grunted, but didn't fall immediately. The Confessor, shaking with rage, wasted no time ending the rebel's life with her remaining dagger, this time the weapon finding her target's heart with ease.

She turned back to the Seeker as he dropped the Sword of Truth and grasped the arrow shaft sticking out of his side. It was stuck fast. Ensor was still shocked by the turn of events and said and did nothing as the Seeker started to slip to the ground.

"Richard!"

The Confessor grabbed him and lowered him gently until the Seeker was seated on the ground, the sword at his side but not in his grasp. The young man was breathing shakily and staring in confusion at the wound. "Kahlan, he just …"

She nodded. "Don't talk, Richard," she said, leaning down to examine the shaft and lightly tug at the armor surrounding the wood. Both were oblivious to the D'Haran captain at their side, which Ensor was grateful for at the moment.

He cringed at the pained expression on the Seeker's face. Arrow wounds were tricky business. Depending on how deep the arrow had penetrated, he could have injured organs in his midsection. That would spell certain death.

The D'Haran captain, seeing the care and concern between the Confessor and the Seeker, having just been spared by the Seeker and having his family's lives owed to the man, made his decision finally. "You can't stay out in the open here," he said. "Let me take you to my home. You can treat him there."

He stood, feeling out of place looking down on the man who had beaten him so handily moments ago and a legendary Confessor. But he wiped the uncertainty from his face and reached down to help the woman to her feet.

"My name is Arlo Ensor," he said as she hesitated. "I owe the Seeker a debt, he spared my life and saved my family. Let me do this."

She looked into his eyes and he felt oddly exposed. The magic of Confessors was the stuff of stories. She must have been reading him for the truth in his words. When she accepted his hand, he knew he had made the right decision. These were good people.

Richard looked up, his face scrunched in growing agony. "You'll put your family in jeopardy," he whispered. "If the others come looking for you, that's the first place they'll go." Ensor looked hard at the Seeker. In pain and worrying for others.

"Let me deal with the D'Harans," he said "I know what they'll do, since I'm the one who wrote the regs for this garrison." He bent and pulled the Seeker's arm over his shoulder – the one not gripping the arrow shaft tightly. "Up you get."

With ease he lifted the Seeker to his feet. The young man was strong, there was no doubt of that, but he was not bulk. He was swift and agile and a lot lighter than Arlo had thought he would be. He was also bleeding rather heftily, if the wet tunic under his mail was anything to go by.

The Confessor took up the Seeker's other side and together they were able to guide him toward Grayson and into the village. There was no one on the streets. They must be hiding from the battle they had heard. The village was no stranger to attack and knew when to hide in their homes.

It wasn't long before they reached the Ensor home.

When he pushed the door open, Ensor's wife Saysha peeked her head from around the bend in the hallway, a fire poker in her trembling hand. When she saw it was her husband, she dropped the poker and ran forward, only to stop short at the sight of the injured man leaning heavily on Arlo's side.

"Carver!" She exclaimed, drawing the young man's gaze. He managed a weak smile and nod, but said nothing. Saysha turned her gaze next to the strikingly beautiful woman at the soldier's other side. "Oh my, bring him in back, I'll get some supplies."

Arlo and Kahlan did as she instructed and were soon lowering the young man onto the bed in the back room. A few youthful faces watched their progress from the staircase banister, one in particular shocked and pained by the young soldier's condition.

Saysha rushed in then carrying a bundle of bandages and ointments. Behind her was the eldest daughter carrying a basin of water, trying in vain not to drop any of it in her haste. The captain, meanwhile, was setting about helping Richard out of the D'Haran chainmail and tunics. He used a blade to cut away the fabric around the arrow shaft, the Seeker cringing when the projectile was jostled in the process.

Blood was everywhere, but miraculously Richard wasn't unconscious or, worse, dead. Kahlan leaned in when the clothing and armor were out of the way. She glanced to Richard's sweaty face and he nodded minutely. This was something they had done before, only it had been him ripping the arrow from her leg. And the wound hadn't been as serious.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and thanked the Spirits that the mail had slowed the arrow so she didn't have to push it through first. But this was still going to hurt. The captain and his family stood back as Kahlan took hold of the arrow. The Seeker found handholds on the bedframe and gripped them tightly. They really did look like they knew what they were doing.

As Kahlan tugged, Richard jerked hard but let no sound escape somehow. Inwardly, he knew it was because he didn't want to scare the captain's son, who didn't react well to loud sounds. Protecting the innocent was strong motivation for the Seeker.

When the arrow was removed the wound began to bleed more profusely and Richard began to breath faster and more sporadically. He could feel it, he was going to go into shock if his body didn't stop losing blood so fast. Kahlan knew it too. "Hold on," she muttered, crushing some of the roots and herbs she always carried with her. "Just hold on, I'm almost there."

He flung his head back on the bed and grunted. "Holding," he gritted out, trying to lessen the serious atmosphere. It didn't work. The word held too much obvious pain for that. He jerked again when Kahlan began to apply her poultice to the wound in his side. And he was very grateful when it was over and she was bandaging the wound and letting the captain's wife help her lift Richard to bandage around his entire middle.

When all had been done, Richard slumped bonelessly into the bed and tried to regulate his breathing. When he felt moderately prepared, he shifted his gaze to the captain. "You said you could take care of the D'Haran soldiers," he said. "How?"

Saysha looked at the young man in confusion. "What is he talking about?"

Arlo gripped her shoulder. "Saysha, this is not Carver Dunn, as we thought," he said. "This is Richard Cypher. The Seeker."

The woman gasped and a hand fluttered to her mouth. The Seeker? The man all D'Haran soldiers were out to capture and deliver to Darken Rahl? The man D'Harans grew up hearing terrible stories about, as if he was a monster who would steal children in the night and use them in magical rituals of death and disease? That Seeker?

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why would you bring him here? He'll kill us all and … and …"

Kahlan stood swiftly, her hands itching to grab a dagger in case of danger, but just managing to hold back. "Richard would do no such thing!" She exclaimed. "He saved this village from a Whisperer and he spared your husband's life after besting him in a fight."

She felt a tug on her dress and her eyes followed it to Richard. He shook his head. "Kahlan, easy," he said. "She doesn't know me. She has every right to fear me." He looked up and met the woman's eyes. "I won't hurt anyone, I swear it on my mother's memory," he said. "I know you've probably heard terrible things about me. I've heard equally as terrible things about D'Harans. But I judge individuals not groups of people as a whole."

"I … I thanked you for being at my husband's back," she said. "But … you were just a spy!"

Richard wanted to speak more, to try and alleviate this woman's fear of him, but just as he mustered up the strength to say something a sharp pain stole his breath away and he curled in on himself as it persisted.

Kahlan forgot the woman and her fear and dropped to her knees at Richard's side. "Uncurl," she ordered gently. "Richard, you're making it worse. Let go."

He lessened his grip, but didn't let go entirely, unable to help his body's natural reaction to the pain. In the background, Arlo was trying to calm his terrified wife and reason with her. It was weird since he should be more alarmed than he was in the presence of the Seeker and a Confessor. But there was something about Richard that just screamed – honest and true.

"Mom?"

Richard stopped his pained struggle. Kahlan slumped to the ground at the bedside in surprise. Arlo and Saysha's heads snapped to the side. Standing at the foot of the stairs, with a carved wooden whistle in hand, was the D'Harans' son, Byron.

"He won't hurt us," the boy continued. "He's not evil. He … he helped me not be afraid. I … I like him, Mom. I don't care who he really is, he was nice to me and he helped me. He didn't have to do that, did he?"

For a moment, the adults said nothing, contemplating Byron's words. They were true. Richard had chosen to help the D'Haran boy. He had had no real reason to, it hadn't advanced his cover much but it had just been the right thing to do.

And the boy obviously treasured the small, rough whistle.

"He's right, dear one," Arlo said. "You know it. I know it. It's just hard to accept it."

The man turned toward the bed and made to address Richard – only to find the younger man wasn't awake. "Uhm, is he?"

Kahlan whirled, if you could call spinning on the floor whirling, to check Richard's condition. After a few fevered hand presses here and there she relaxed slightly. "He appears to simply be sleeping," the woman said. Looking up, she stood slowly and brushing down the folds of her traveling dress. "Forgive my rudeness, ma'am, but I don't believe I introduced myself. I'm Kahlan Amnell of Thandor."

Saysha looked to Arlo before stepping forward and grasping the other woman's arm in greeting. "Saysha Ensor. And these are our children …" she gestured toward the youngsters who had ventured forth from the staircase. "Byron, Aneeta, Cicily and Harder."

They might have continued their conversation if a knock hadn't sounded on the doorway in the front of the house. The Ensor's frowned and Arlo ushered Kahlan into the nearby closet. "We don't know who it is, but I doubt it's soldiers," he said to her. "Richard will be fine, if they notice him I'll say he's a relation sleeping off his travels." Just in case, however, he handed her the daggers she had retrieved before coming to the house. "If you hear trouble, though, feel free to come to my rescue, Confessor Kahlan."

She smiled lightly. "I would not hesitate Captain Arlo."

And with that, he clapped the door shut and went to greet whatever fate had come to their doorstep.

In the front of the house …

Arlo gestured for Saysha and the kids to act natural. Saysha took up a position at the fireplace and set about putting on supper. After all, they would need to eat. The kids retired to the nearby second hearth and began a quiet game amongst themselves.

The captain opened the door to reveal one of his neighbors, supporting a D'Haran soldier from the earlier battle. "Arlo, I'm so glad I found you here, this man is wounded. I can't get him to the garrison on my own, but I thought you could help."

Normally, the D'Haran commander would have already been taking the man from his neighbor's shoulder, but he was momentarily frozen in indecision. He only had one extra bed it was currently occupied by the Seeker. And this D'Haran soldier was conscious and knew what Richard looked like – and who he was.

"My cousin has just arrived and is currently occupying my only extra bed," he said. "But if you could put him up at your home for tonight until we can arrange transport back to the garrison, I'll be sure to have your paid handsomely for your troubles."

The neighbor's eyes lit up with the idea of a reward for nothing more than feeding and sheltering a man. "I'd be glad to aid the D'Haran cause," the man said, shifting the soldier's weight. "But I'm not capable of treating this wound. Perhaps you could come with me to deal with it?"

Knowing to do otherwise would alert the neighbor – and the soldier with him – to something unusual, the captain nodded and grabbed the recently used medical supplies from the shelf in the kitchen and gestured for the man to lead the way.

He glanced briefly at his wife on the way out, uncertain of leaving her and the children alone with the Seeker and a Confessor, but not having a choice. He could only hope that they had been honest with him. And quickly frankly, he wasn't really as worried as he imagined he would be. They had proven they were true to their word thus far.

Closing the door behind him, he followed his neighbor down the street.

TBC, hopefully I'll even get some feedback this time!