Disclaimer: I am a long-time (12 year) fan of Legend of the Seeker and a somewhat ex-fan of the SoT book series. To not make this fanfiction just a recounting of Season 2, I am "re-writing" the season in the way I think I would have liked it to go. Do with that information what you will, I am not attempting to make this canonical, rather I am taking the characters as written and putting them into new scenarios which I hope you will enjoy if you are a fan of the show that has long craved new content, as I have.
Fate married Prophecy long ago,
and their children became Life, Hatred, Love, and Balance. Life and Love came together and created humans, which Hatred tricked and took under his wing. Love, Life, and Hatred are always at war. Balance is small but mighty, over and over seeking the help of mortals to aid them. But all the children are afraid of Fate and Prophecy, because they are what began time itself. Prophecy shows us many ways, and Fate drives the world in such a direction. However, even as powerful as they may be, Fate and Prophecy cannot end a story nor can they change it. Prophecy draws the fault lines, and Fate tries to follow them the best she can. To not believe in such forces is to be a blaspheme, and to risk angering the balance of the magical world.
Cara Mason was never meant to be in the Seeker's story, but after being thrown back in time and being persuaded to defeat Darken Rahl, Fate had decided to bind them together. It was a plan Fate had concocted for quite some time, having looked down at Prophecy's manic maps and watching the ebbs and flows of the great Richard Cypher's life. He was meant to have been destroyed many times, yet there he was still. So Fate sought amusement in this partnership, this pairing of mismatched souls, and let them float down the river. She wanted to see what would happen next, knowing what promise was on the horizon for the Seeker, who was both of the Rahl and Zorander bloodline.
All Cara could smell was mud while her face was shoved into the ground. The sawing of the knife on her hair was unpleasant but easily tolerable to a Mord-Sith such as herself. It was demeaning to be sure, and Cara had always had a firm sense of pride, but being in the service of Darken Rahl for so long made her calloused to such showings of strength. Cara was strong and loyal yet disposable to Darken Rahl, and he always made sure she was well aware of it. She didn't pay much attention to Triana's boasting over her prone form, the selfish bitch she was. Triana and her other now traitorous sisters honestly weren't worth her time. Although that was a lie, it was a lie that Cara would ardently convince herself of. It was difficult to revoke your love for those you were supported by your whole life. This was the second time Cara would lose whom she thought was family.
Everything Cara had known had fallen apart when she killed Darken Rahl and allied herself, secretly of course, with the Seeker. Of what she could remember from her childhood, Cara was in love with the Lord Rahl. All D'Harans were, of course, but the Mord-Sith had the delectable pleasure of being loved most by the Lord Rahl. They were his right hand warriors after all, even more useful than the clumsy Dragon Core. But when Cara had seen the true nature of Darken Rahl, how he had desecrated the title of Lord Rahl by destroying D'Hara and the rest of the territories, her heart changed. She knew that under people's true selves there were awful little worms, and this had reminded her hardened heart of that. Cara realized that not even the Lord Rahl truly cared about her. She was alone now, and she knew she needed to behave as such.
She would become a predator, at least that's what she told herself. Cara would only look after herself now, there was no need to act like a Mord-Sith anymore. The murder of Darken Rahl would bring about a new age for the world and a dark age for D'Hara. Her agiels still hummed, which meant there was a Rahl still out there, but who knows how long it would take to find them? Cara couldn't wait that long. Perhaps she could become a bounty hunter, or a mercenary. She had no skills apart from torturing, the opportunity to do anything else had never presented itself to her, really.
"Lord Rahl? You've come up in the world, haven't you?" Cara had cleverly said. The sinister energy of her words were titrated by the blood filling in the valleys between her teeth. She could not believe that this foolhardy, goody-goody man could be of the Rahl bloodline. For one, he had the mindset of a young school-boy. For another, she couldn't imagine a Lord Rahl that was not an egomaniac. The prideful Mord-Sith was embarrassed to be lying in the dirt again, at the feet of the Seeker, a wizard of the First Order, and the Mother Confessor.
Cara would be lying if she said she wasn't absolutely terrified of the last party member. Confessors and Mord-Sith seemed to have been molded by Fate to be foils of each other. On one end, Confessors were truth abiding, moral upholding, and most importantly, pillars of the community. On the other end, Mord-Sith were blindly loyal torturers, inhuman, and hated in even their homeland. In addition, a Confessor just barely letting go of the tight coil she kept her powers in could kill a Mord-Sith, one who could endure all the pain in the world with a self-satisfied grin. But the Confessor could never know that, not if Cara wanted to hold onto the sliver of her pride she had left.
But they took her along, including the Mother Confessor. When her hand had closed around Cara's neck in the pass to the Drowning Cave, the Mord-Sith surely thought it would be her end. Fate would have decided to leave her body to go out with the flood tides, another unnamed Mord-Sith, a defective product of a more sinister era of history. Cara could see the disgust in the Mother Confessor's icy blue eyes and knew that with a small slip of her powers, she would endure the most painful death. But wasn't that what she deserved, after all? Cara couldn't make that decision, because the Mother Confessor's hand loosened and let her go.
Cara was surprised when the Seeker took her along, citing that he trusted her. Even among the Mord-Sith, whom she had spent most of her life with, she was rarely trusted. Although the Mord-Sith were strong and skilled, they were simply more bodies to Darken Rahl, especially when they failed him. Individualism was not something Cara was used to, being picked out of the crowd for her merits was even more unfamiliar. But Cara went along with it, what else did she have going on? Travelling with Richard Rahl, who was also the Seeker of Truth, would surely grant her safe passage.
It is here that Fate drops us, under the guidance of Prophecy. If the winds had blown any other way, Cara would be serving Darken Rahl at the People's Palace still. Rahl would have done as Prophecy predicted in the dark future she visited, and the world would have silently fell to the unfettered malice of a male Confessor. But they blew here, and Cara still couldn't tell if she was thankful for it or fearful because of it.
"Cara, we need more kindling for the fire," Kahlan said evenly, not bothering to look in the Mord-Sith's direction. It was only a week after the events in Stowcroft, of Cara's confession to the genocide of all but one Confessor, and there was still a raw part of Kahlan's heart that had not yet calloused. Seeing this as a demand rather than a request, Cara simply stood up, stretched her arms for a moment, and then tread into the thicker part of the forest to search for kindling. Not even wood, just little, teeny branches that she would have to bend down and pluck from the forest floor. Part of Cara knew that Kahlan only "trusted" her with the most menial tasks as a way of keeping her on a short leash.
Cara was content so long as the Confessor did not try to harm her. Richard had been the balance between them initially, convincing Kahlan that Cara was useful to them. But something else had happened when Kahlan's hand closed around Cara's neck for the second time. Fate had looked at Prophecy and moved their pieces to the same path. With Kahlan's mercy, Cara had become just a little different.
Reliving her childhood trauma was not the best way to go about healing, but it was more progress than she had ever made. Mord-Sith knew how to become hard and tough, but it was difficult to fit in compassion within all that pain. In all the years since childhood, Cara had never forgiven her father for what he did, and it stayed in her heart like a stone. But looking into Kahlan's eyes, seeing that same hardness, and begging to be killed shifted the winds. Kahlan could tell something had changed, and knew better than to turn her cheek to Fate.
But that still did not forgive what Cara had done. No small spark of humanity could bring Denee, her nephew, and the other Confessors back to life. Kahlan, like Cara, was utterly alone now. But that was no reason to let the world go to waste under the Keeper's thumb. Kahlan knew that in order for Richard to fulfil his destiny and destroy the Keeper, seal the rifts to the Underworld, and to restore balance to the world, she would have to tolerate the Mord-Sith.
As Cara came back with two bursting handfuls of kindling, Kahlan was almost caught thanking her. Instead she wordlessly took the bundles of twigs from the Mord-Sith and took them to the fire. In that instant, however, Kahlan felt something she hadn't the other two times her hands had touched the Mord-Sith. There was a hard force that suddenly pushed against the tight loaded spring that was the source of her power. It felt like she had been thrown against a thick tree trunk. It didn't seem to be initiated by Cara, because she wasn't even looking at Kahlan. It was only a split second and then it was gone but it had Kahlan reeling for a few moments after.
"Not up to your standards, Mother Confessor?" Cara asked with a quizzical expression. She had watched the Mother Confessor take the bundle of kindling and then freeze. It was then that Kahlan looked directly at Cara, their eyes locked, and then she shook her head.
"No, it's fine Cara. Thank you."
And that was the first kind thing Kahlan had ever said to her.
2
"If you do not want another innocent life given to the Keeper, you must come with us, Richard Rahl," Sister Verna said evenly, her eyes set only on Richard's prone figure. Lying on the ground with his head in Kahlan's lap was the most vulnerable Zedd and Kahlan had ever seen Richard. The searing headaches brought on by Richard's unfettered Han removed any semblance of unyielding strength the Seeker once possessed. He was reduced to being shackled by his own magic, and therefore forced to go with the Sisters of the Light, lest he die.
"I need a moment, Sister," Richard told her, holding up a hand before pulling himself up to his feet with Kahlan's aid. Holding onto her hand for a moment, Richard took Kahlan aside. "I can't-"
"You're going with them," Kahlan told him, shaking her head. "Don't even try to convince me otherwise."
"I need to find the Stone of Tears. I don't know how long it will take to get to this Old World, and who knows how long I'll be gone. Kahlan, I can't stop the world from moving. The Keeper is loose, and we can't let him win. I can't let him win." The fever in Richard's eyes, brought on by his never-ending compassion, was high. It squeezed Kahlan's heart to shake her head again, this time cupping his jaw.
"Do you think I would let you die, Richard? Do you honestly think I can travel with you while your headaches get worse? Stand by and hold you while you're reduced to squirming on the ground in pain? How are you supposed to fight the Keeper of the Underworld with your body, with your Han, resisting you?" Richard was taken aback by her insistence, which he had not witnessed in a long time. Not since that time long ago when Kahlan was a padlocked chest, solid and immovable. In his absence of words, Kahlan continued, heated by the thoughts that raced through her mind.
"If you… if you die while searching for the Stone of Tears, if you succumb to this sickness inside you, what difference would it make than if you went with them? Do you really trust only yourself to take up the helm of goodness, Richard? Either path you choose, you will lose something. I would rather it be your quest than your life. You are more to me than the Seeker. You are the man I love. You are Richard Cypher."
Richard stared at her for what felt like hours. He remembered how, when he was hurled 58 years into the future, it pained him to learn she had died, and he remembered what it was like to hold her again afterwards. Every time he looked at Kahlan, his strength was renewed. In that moment he remembered that neither distance, time, nor evil could separate them. In that moment, he realized that he didn't have to be the Seeker to be of value. Kahlan had found value in the woods guide just the same as the Seeker of Truth.
"I trust you, Kahlan. I've always trusted you." To Kahlan's astonishment, Richard removed the Sword of Truth from his belt. "Take this, name a new Seeker, and find the Stone of Tears. Don't look for me, don't come after me. Once you've defeated the Keeper, should that happen without me, and once I've done whatever these people want, I will find you again. You, Zedd, and Cara," Richard told her, pushing the sword and scabbard to Kahlan's chest. She could feel his sadness and pain conducted through the sword, and she knew he was telling the truth. Richard believed what he was saying down to his core. Kahlan nodded, took the sword over her shoulder, and let Richard adjust the leather strap. She wanted so badly to grab him and kiss him, but she knew that was not wise. A confessed Richard would be a destroyed Richard. So instead she squeezed his hand for an instant, then let go.
"I will see you soon, Richard," she told him, backing away from him as she could not bear to be there any longer.
"I will see you soon, Kahlan." They had said soon, but it felt like goodbye. Kahlan stood there as she watched Richard walk into the thicket of the forest with the two Sisters of the Light, and she wished with everything she was that she would see his face again.
3
It was soon dusk again, everything had been a blur. Kahlan remembered Zedd telling her they had to go, and they had readied the horses and left, but then suddenly it was night.
"Dear one, he will be alright. Just because we aren't with him doesn't mean he isn't safe. Take your own words to heart… trust in Richard, as you have so many times before," Zedd said, trying to offer up a small gift of reassurance to Kahlan. His hand rested gently on her shoulder, as it often did when he was comforting Kahlan. Zedd and Kahlan had been bound together by her secret from Richard, and she found herself trusting Zedd more than even Richard sometimes. She knew that Zedd was right, that mulling over Richard's absence would do no one any good. Kahlan needed to clear her mind and reset her own compass.
"I'm sorry Zedd, you're right. I have to trust him- he trusted me, after all," Kahlan said, looking to Zedd and lightly squeezing his hand. "I'm a little hungry, do we have anything left to eat?" The wizard took his hand away and shook his head.
"No, we are upsettingly short on food, we ate the last of it yesterday. With all that's happened, we neglected to find something to eat."
"Normally I would be against it, but I don't think we are at risk of having the Keeper find us at the tavern. We should be an hour from Noderfels, maybe even less," Kahlan offered, looking to Zedd for approval. She knew, however, that Zedd was the last person to turn down a hot meal and good company.
"Then to Noderfels we go, hopefully for some roast duck," Zedd smiled, and they all grabbed their packs and headed down the road, Cara practically leagues ahead of them as per usual. She didn't like the incessant chattering that Richard, Kahlan, and Zedd seemed to thrive on. Nor did she ever feel part of it.
The Rusted Fork was not something to marvel at. The wood which it was built from seemed to sigh and sag. It was tucked into a small corner of the city, so it was a marvel that Cara had even pointed it out to Kahlan and Zedd. Even the sign seemed like it had gone through a fire, the paint was curling and chipped, and there were scorch marks on the back. However, that was exactly the kind of place to go when you didn't want much attention. Kahlan was sure that no one was looking for the Seeker or Mother Confessor, so even with the Sword of Truth on her back she hoped they wouldn't be bothered. Cara wasn't so sure about her own invisibility, but she kept quiet. Richard was the only one who truly listened to her, sometimes Zedd did, but it was clear that Kahlan was calling the shots now.
"It's been a while since we've been off the path," Kahlan noted to Zedd as the three travellers sat at a titled, round table. "It will be nice to get some warm food that isn't Zedd's usual potato soup."
"Lesson number 15, Seeker, that which you don't trust to others must be done yourself," Zedd smiled. The moniker of Seeker wasn't intentional, rather it was out of habit since it was always Richard which he imparted these arbitrary lessons on, but it made both Zedd and Kahlan stop for a moment. Kahlan's eyes welled up for a moment before she nodded.
"Save those for when Richard comes back," she smiled, and Zedd smiled heavily along with her. The tension and sadness brought on by the lack of Richard hung in the air like a dead tree branch still holding onto its trunk but thankfully, Cara's specialty was breaking up heavy moments with her bluntness.
"The service here leaves much to be desired," Cara commented, having had three fingers up on her hand for several minutes. In D'Hara, that would have gotten her service immediately. "It seems that the Midlands have fallen into more disarray than we thought."
"I wouldn't be so quick to serve a Mord-Sith after the fall of Darken Rahl if I was a young tavern maid," Zedd told her, raising three fingers to catch the attention of the dark haired woman across the way. When he caught her eye he smiled politely, and she turned and began to make her way in their direction, weaving and turning this way and that through the throngs of tightly seated tables. "More flies with honey than vinegar, Cara," Zedd told her in jest.
"Why would I want to catch flies when I can avoid them altogether?" Cara asked, looking up as the tavern maiden came to their table. "I'd rather catch a butterfly."
"It depends on what your net is made of," the tavern maid smiled. "What can I get you?"
With the little money they had, the three of them ordered enough food to fill their bellies and keep them going for another day or so, until they could buy food in the morning or hunt it themselves. Cara had ordered a large horn of ale and had convinced Zedd to do the same. Kahlan was eyeing them enviously.
"You could get some, you know," Cara said to Kahlan, looking up at the Confessor earnestly. "We have enough coin."
"I'm fine, I'm not sure I would like it," Kahlan told her. That gave Cara an opening.
"You've never had ale?" Kahlan shook her head. "What about wine?" Again, Kahlan shook her head. "Not even mead?"
"No, never. It doesn't mix well with my power."
"Come now, Mother Confessor. I can't believe you are so lofty. So above us peasants," Cara chided, tilting her head toward Zedd, who cracked a smile at the Mord-Sith's teasing. "Have a drink, you're a grown woman. You can control yourself more than you think."
Kahlan gave Cara that icy glare once again, but even without being able to read Cara she knew that the Mord-Sith was being genuine. It was the first real conversation they'd had that wasn't about Richard, saving someone, or finding the Stone of Tears. She was being serious when she said she didn't drink, but maybe this was the time to let go a little. The Stone of Tears wouldn't go anywhere after one drink.
"All right, give me some of yours then," Kahlan asked, lifting her head in the direction of Cara's horn. With the slightest hint of a smirk, Cara slid it over to her.
"The Mother Confessor, drinking at a tavern? This is something even I haven't seen," Zedd teased. Kahlan rolled her eyes and took a cautious sip of the ale. As soon as the drink hit her tongue, the carbonation and bitter flavor made her twist her face up in disgust.
"I haven't been missing much, clearly," Kahlan complained, shaking her head and pushing the horn back to Cara. As she did, the Mord-Sith reached forward to grab the handle, and her hand grazed over Kahlan's. Again, Kahlan felt that barrier between them, unlike anything she had felt before. It almost felt like having a Rada'Han around her neck. In an instant the feeling was gone with Cara's hand moving away. Kahlan looked up to the Mord-Sith but her face did not betray that she had experienced the same feeling as Kahlan had. Zedd noticed this interaction, but he knew it was wiser to observe quietly than to point out what he wasn't quite sure of.
"At least you tried, that's something," Cara assured her, downing the remainder of the ale. She slammed the horn on the table and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Kahlan asked. Cara pointed to the dartboard at the far end of the tavern. "I'll play a few rounds with you, I need a distraction."
Kahlan and Cara were at the dartboard for almost an hour, in that time Cara managed to get a few drinks from patrons who wanted to see how many it would take to get her in bed with them. Kahlan was surprised to find out that the more Cara drank, the closer her darts got to the bullseye.
The Rusted Fork was crowded, but no one seemed to want to disrupt a Mord-Sith playing a game with sharp, throwable objects. At first, they didn't talk much- Kahlan saw it as a way to get her mind off Richard without having to sit at the table and eat or imbibe. But soon she got to talking with Cara. It was small, nothing of note, but they shared more words at the dartboard than they had from two months travelling together.
Cara smirked and looked at Kahlan as she threw another bullseye. If there was one thing that was consistent with Cara, is that she loved beating others. "Not so good with throwing as you thought, Mother Confessor?"
"I didn't know Mord-Sith knew how to have fun," Kahlan admitted, and Cara felt alienated once again.
"No, I don't think anyone thinks a torturer can have fun. But we find our ways," Cara told her, letting Kahlan go before sizing up the dartboard again. She took her time to visualize her dart on the bullseye- 5 more points and she would win their fourth game with 4-0, Cara. "I am more than a Mord-Sith, you know. Just like you are more than the Mother Confessor."
"So then stop calling me Mother Confessor." That made Cara halt mid-toss. She thought for a moment, green eyes set on the board, then threw. The dart landed right below one of Kahlan's, that was on the farthest edge of the circular cork board.
"You win, Kahlan," Cara told her, going up to the board and stabbing the remainder of her darts into it. For some reason, Kahlan smiled. Just then, Zedd found them at the other side of the tavern.
"We may want to get going. Even if the Keeper isn't as eagle-eyed as Darken Rahl, people are beginning to notice the Confessor with the Sword of Truth on her back," Zedd warned, and as Kahlan and Cara looked around they saw what the wizard meant. Every so often people were looking up at them, then speaking in a low tone amongst themselves.
"To the road we go, again," said Kahlan, and somehow it felt more hollow and less encouraging without Richard there to hear it.
The trio hurried back into the wilds to make camp for the night. As per usual, Cara was on the far side of the fire, and Zedd and Kahlan slept on the opposite side.
"I'll take first watch," Cara announced as soon as they laid down their bedrolls. Kahlan and Zedd just nodded and settled down to sleep. As they slept, Cara took the time to think. She was a little drunk, but she didn't want to go to sleep just yet. Cara was consumed by the thoughts of their quest, but she also couldn't stop thinking about the way that Kahlan's hand had brushed hers. Or how carefully Kahlan had lifted the large drinking horn to her lips. Or how her eyes seemed to light up when she had thrown a dart that got her closer to beating Cara.
Cara was so deep in thought that when Kahlan came to relieve her, she was caught a little off guard. All she gave was a small jolt of surprise, but Kahlan knew better than to tease the Mord-Sith.
"What were you thinking about?" Kahlan asked, to Cara's confusion. Kahlan rarely interacted with her if it wasn't for Richard, especially since Stowecroft.
"The compass. We're not going to be able to use it without Richard," she told her, looking over at Kahlan with crossed arms. "How are we going to find the stone without a working compass? We'd be searching all over the three territories. Or, it could be right under our noses."
"We'll find a new Seeker and name him. It may take awhile, but if I found Richard, I can find the next Seeker." Cara mulled that over for a moment. "What?"
"It took a thousand years between the last Seeker and Richard. What if we have to wait another thousand years?" Kahlan hadn't thought of that, and it made her heart drop to her stomach. The thought of having to wait even 6 months for Richard to come back from the Old World while the Keeper was waging war was terrifying. There was no way he'd be able to complete becoming a wizard in any less time. It took Kahlan years to master her Confessor powers, who knows how long it would take Richard when he was so accustomed to magic?
"For all our sakes, Cara, I hope it's not another thousand years. I suppose we are going to have to put our faith in something that isn't Richard."
"Well, while we figure out how to do that, I've changed my mind," Cara sighed, looking up at the bright evening moon. She caught Kahlan looking at it too. "I'm going to bed, you can keep watch."
And with that, Kahlan was suddenly alone again. More alone than she had ever been. Somehow, she had grown to expect Cara's company, and she didn't know how or when.