Before I start the second chapter, I forgot to metion the changes I made from the actual Game of Throne book. 1: Robb is King of the North, but he is rulling from Winterfell. 2: let's just pretend Cara and Zedd are off on their own little adventure. I didn't feel like switching back and forth between the two worlds. 3: I know that Robb is completley out of character in this story, but I had to make it that way. Enjoy!


Into the Lair of Lions

Kahlan was pacing around the meadow in a small loop, mumbling to herself. There had been a fog settling in her head when she got Winterfell, but now that the fog had dissipated, she noticed a presence, rather, a lack thereof.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

How could she have possibly forgotten?

What had made her forget about her lover?

She turned quickly on her heels, long raven hair twirling around with her.

"Where's Richard," she asked. The Starks looked confused. Kahlan decided to rephrase her question.

"Did a man pass through this doorway as well? He's about as tall, well, as tall as I am, and with brown—"

Little Arya slid closer to the mysterious woman. She was growing quite fond of her.

"No, milady. No one but you passed through this portal. Wow," Arya said, and took a bundle of Kahlan's hair in her small hands. "You have the longest hair I have ever seen!"

Kahlan was uncomfortable. No one ever touches her, save for Zedd and Richard.

Especially not little girls.

Kahlan noticed something glittering in the light of the sun on Arya's belt.

"You have a sword?"

Arya blushed, and bobbed her head in a quick yes.

"My other older brother gave it to me, as a parting gift. He was sent to the Wall. Its name is Needle. Would you like to hold it?" Arya was obviously excited to show Kahlan her sword.

"Certainly," Kahlan said, and Arya politely handed her the small sword.

Catelyn was getting anxious of this woman. Why did Arya take to her so quickly?

Kahlan turned the sword in her hands, testing its balance. She smiled warmly, and handed the sword back to Arya.

"It's a very good sword, especially for one so small."

Arya bowed her head in respect.

"Thank you, my lady."

Catelyn had had just enough of this woman, with her superiority. Wasn't she taught respect in her realm? The fiery Tully woman strode over to Kahlan, putting a light hand on Arya's shoulder.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is a Mother Confessor?"

Kahlan sighed, and spoke with a tone of rulers.

"I am the Mother Confessor. I rule over every living creature in my world, the Midlands. There are three other territories, to the left, Westland, a land free of magic. To the right, D'Hara, and under that, the Old World. These territories are separated by magical boundaries, which can only be crossed by magical means."

"So now we know where you come from, but who are you exactly?" Robb asked, still very cautious of this woman. There was something slightly off about her.

"I am what is known as a Confessor, one in the line of many women that posses an ancient magic. I was born with my power, my 'Confessor's Touch' as the people call it,"

Kahlan takes a long, deep look into Robb's blue eyes, and continues.

"I was born with the power to enslave people, to make them do anything I say. Even die at my feet if I command. With a single touch, I can destroy someone's very soul."

They just stared.

Then a sudden rage came over Robb, causing him to tightly clench his fists. Angry fires flickered in his eyes.

He whistled, and a dozen guards jumped out from behind the trees. Kahlan was shocked, her bright blue eyes wide with fear.

Robb smiled, and turned his head slightly.

"Did you really believe a King would come without protection, Mother Confessor?"

Two guards came from behind the Confessor, binding her hands with rope.

Her breathing escalated, the rope unveiling painful memories of her childhood, memories she had tried to forget.

Catelyn was shocked as well.

"Robb, what are you doing?"

"She's too dangerous! You heard her words, she has evil magic!"

In a vain effort to escape, she elbowed one of the guards and ran, only to be knocked unconscious by a guard.

"A valiant effort, Mother Confessor, but you were too slow." Robb turned to his protectors. "We must keep guards on watch at all times," commanded Robb, giving a little kick to the woman's head.

"But you mustn't let her touch you," he finished.

The guards nodded, and finished tying Kahlan up. Then, they dragged her into the forest, one man holding her hands, and the other holding her feet.

In the distance, a slender woman flicked her long auburn hair over her shoulder, knowing her work was done.

xxx

Richard was sitting across the table from a small man with long, dark hair. The man smiled, and motioned his servants to pour him more wine.

Richard hadn't even touched his food, although he was starving.

He and Kahlan had both been in a forest just outside the boundary along D'Hara, when a great black hole appeared behind Kahlan, and sucked her into it. He screamed her name, but no answer came. He took his pack, and followed Kahlan into the hole. When he stepped through to the other side, she wasn't there. Instead, a small man they called the Imp was sitting proudly atop his pristine white pony.

Now, he was in a strange, dark castle, far from the Midlands. He kept seeing banners of golden lions on a field of crimson decorating the lonely stone halls.

He shuddered. Red reminded him of his brother. His sick, sadistic brother.

"So, where do you hail from? Not here, obviously," said the Imp.

"Well, where I come from, it's customary to give your name before asking questions." Richard replied, and the Imp laughed heartily.

"Well said, my friend. I am Tyrion of the house of Lannister. And what may your name be?"

Richard paused for a moment, and then spoke.

"I am Richard Cypher, Seeker of Truth, ruler of D'Hara, and the bringer of death. I hail from Hartland."

Tyrion smiled at this. He admired this man's wit.

"Well, Seeker, I would love to stay and chat, but I have urgent matters to tend to. Apparently, another portal has opened up in Winterfell, where the house of Stark presides." Tyrion gets up from his chair slowly, and takes a long drink of his wine before continuing.

"You wouldn't have any idea about what or who went through that portal, would you?"

Kahlan, he thought.

"No, I wouldn't have the slightest clue. I was traveling alone when the portal opened up."

"Well, if you recall any details, please let me know. I wouldn't want to keep anything from me if I were you," Tyrion called over his shoulder, and walked out the ornate double doors, smiling to himself.

A plump woman came bursting out from the kitchen, smiling and taking Richard's hand. She led him down hallway after hallway, chattering on like a Night Wisp, but Richard wasn't hearing her.

The woman, he found out her name was Sherre, led him to a small door at the far end of the castle.

"Well my dear, here's your room. I know it's a bit small, but it's all we have available. I hope it is to your liking," she said, hands clasped in front of her, waiting eagerly for a response.

It reminded him of Kahlan.

"It will do. Thank you, Sherre."

She nodded, and scurried off into the castle.

Richard went into his room to see his pack already there.

He sat down on his bed, and laid his head on the soft pillow. It had been so long since he had slept in a bed. He smiled as he thought of that big bed in Aydindril that Kahlan kept telling him about.

One day, he thought.

He turned to fluff the pillow when he noticed something glide smoothly to the floor. He picked it up, and it was a map of the Seven Kingdoms on an old piece of parchment.

So that's where he was.

He studied the map all night, and by dawn he had mapped out a course to Winterfell.

He was going to find Kahlan, but first, he needed to get out of this castle.