Author's Note: I haven't forgotten about this story, I swear. I had pneumonia for 3 and ½ weeks, then a friend of mine came out from London for 2 weeks and I just had my wisdom teeth removed last Monday so I'm still recovering from that. In between this, I also wrote a one-shot for a challenge at CSS titled Spirit. I also started a new action story called Savior. I have uploaded both to , live journal and CSS so please check these out. Sorry this chapter is a little short, I wanted to get something out asap after the long wait. enjoy
CHAPTER 8
Rays of sun streamed through the window, peaking out from behind the curtains. Kahlan squinted against the intensity of it. Slowly, she opened her eyes. They took a moment to adjust. Panic raced through her soul when she didn't recognize her surroundings. She propped herself up using one arm. The room was large. She looked down at the fluffy white sheets she had slept on. All of it came back to her in a sudden rush. She bit her lip to stifle any sobs that may have wanted to come out, though she doubted she had anything left in her after last night.
The Mother Confessor slid down onto the ground, her bare feet touching the marble floor. Her legs felt weak; despite this, it was the strongest she had felt in over a week. She couldn't stop herself from falling asleep last night, not after abandoning the activity for so long. Her eyes were still red from the night before. Crying had taken the last of her energy.
Her hand pushed back the heavy maroon drapes, staring out onto the palace grounds. Her eyes widened; she couldn't even see where it all ended. But what really unnerved her were all of the Mord-Sith wandering around. She fingered the metal prison bars placed across the glass. Rahl knew she would try to jump out the window if given the chance. Rahl. She shivered at the thought, remembering what had happened last night and what had almost transpired. She was trapped here, like some animal in a cage. Blue eyes scanned the entire room, finding nothing except the locked door. The doorknob refused to turn, depleting her fleeting hope. Before she could let go, she felt the handle turning from the other side. Kahlan jumped back before the door could hit her.
A man stepped into the room, setting a tray down on the floor in front of her. He looked up, surprised the woman was awake. "Good morning confessor." His servant's outfit made it clear he was no threat to her. "Your breakfast is served. Lord Rahl has left you a fresh dress in the closet. He wishes you to wear it. If I may miss, I recommend wearing it. I understand you may not want to," the blonde looked around hesitantly, "but it's easier to do as our Lord wishes."
Kahlan nodded, "Thank you, but he is not my Lord and will never be." The servant bowed in understanding, slowly backing out. The heavy doors locked back into place behind him. She sighed, eyeing the warm food. Gracefully bending down, she inspected a danish for poison. She chuckled to herself; what did it matter? If it was poisoned, she could finally be free of this fate. The more she thought about it, the more she came to realize Rahl wouldn't let her die that easily. As much as she didn't want to accept anything from these people, her hunger got the best of her. Kahlan ate everything on the plate, justifying to herself that she needed all the strength she could get if she was to fight off the master of D'Hara.
The closet panel rolled open easily, revealing the dress Darken Rahl had picked out. Kahlan growled deep in her throat. The gown was revealing in all the right areas. Gold threaded designs ran along the sides of the blood red dress. There was no way she going to wear anything that bore the national colors of D'Hara. Despite the way it smelled after everything she had been through, she much preferred her white confessor's dress. She crawled into the closet, leaving the panel door cracked open enough to see when Rahl came into the room.
Hours passed before the Mother Confessor felt vibrations through the floor. Someone was coming. Her body tensed, overeager to exact her revenge. She heard the click of the doors. A shadow stretched across the ground. "Kahlan?" Darken Rahl sighed deeply. "Let's not play these games. You're unarmed and can't use your power on me. It's useless." He peaked behind every nook and in every crevice he could find in the room. While his back was turned to her, Kahlan dove out of the closet, grunting with the force of the punch she attacked him with. The man fell to the floor, holding his head in pain. Before Kahlan's kick could make contact with his face, he grabbed her foot. He twisted it, causing her to spin one hundred and eighty degrees in mid-air. She landed hard on her face. Blood ran from one nostril, trickling onto the marble. "Why do you do this to yourself?" the lord growled. Any trace of the playfulness he had when he had entered the room was clearly gone now. "Why do you make me hurt you?" He rolled her over onto her back with his foot.
The Mother Confessor glared up at Rahl. How dare he try to justify hurting her by saying it was her own fault. "You're mentally sick." Her leg swung with ferocity. He saw it coming. His boot came down hard on her leg. A sickening crunch was followed by an agonizing scream. Kahlan automatically sat up, reaching to cradle her injury. She was met with a heel to the chest slamming her back to the ground. The air flew from her lungs. Gagging, she tried to catch her breath.
"No one can help you. You can't even help yourself." Rahl crouched down next to her choking form. "You need to learn that when you disobey me, you must be punished." He removed a knife from its sheath at his waist. He sliced through the white strings holding her dress together in the front. Each one popped when the blade touched it. Kahlan struggled to hold the opening closed. "I won't be gentle like I would have been last night. You need to be taught a lesson." Her body writhed underneath his, trying to get free. It only enticed him more. "There will be no mercy for you tonight. You will not enjoy this, but I will." A sadistic smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes. In one swift motion, his knife cut open Kahlan's dress, revealing her corset top.
A servant passed by the door to the room holding their latest prisoner. When he had visited the Mother Confessor earlier to drop off her breakfast, there was so much more he wanted to say to her. His family was part of the rebellion. He was forced to become a servant in the house of Rahl in order to save the lives of his three sons. He wished beyond reason he could help her. She was the epitome of all that was good in this world. He hated to think of the Seeker fighting off D'Harans without Kahlan. They are the guiding lights to everyone in the Midlands. He entered the room next door, setting the clean towels down on the rack. Screams echoed down the halls. He immediately knew they were from Kahlan and what Darken Rahl was doing to her. His hand flew to his mouth before he lost his lunch on the floor.
*****
Four hundred soldiers marched towards the People's Palace. Once they were a safe distance away, Richard silently crawled down from the branch he was perched on. Small clouds of dust were disturbed where his feet landed. His eyes swept the grounds, unable to grasp the palace in its entirety. Kahlan was somewhere in there, but where exactly? Buildings stretched farther than the eye could see. Richard sighed. As much as he wished she was in one of the cottages outside of the main structures, he knew she was being held inside the palace itself.
Zedd's words came back to haunt him. As much he hated to lie to his grandfather, there was no way he could leave Kahlan with those vultures. A sad chuckled rumbled; here he was, the Seeker of Truth, lying to one of his loved ones. It was ironic in the least. He closed his eyes, whispering a silent apology to Zedd for what he was about to do. Without another thought, he stealthily followed the soldiers through the massive gates. There was no going back now.
