It was a pity that there was no radar to guide one across the trackless seas of life. Every man had to find his own way, steered by some secret compass of the soul. And sometimes, late or early, the compass lost its power and spun aimlessly on its bearings.

― Arthur C. Clarke, Glide Path

-l-

Kahlan made her way sedately into Lord Zorander's throne room, her heavy red boots echoing hollowly against the floor. She enjoyed the sound, enjoyed the staccato rhythm, and the way prisoners and soldiers alike stiffened when they heard it, for they knew it meant a Mord'Sith approached.

It took practice, to be able to walk, run, ride, and fight in the tall heels effortlessly. But that was part of the making of a Mord'Sith – getting the coil of the braid, the fit of the armor, and the glide of the step just right. Learning to be the beauty that disguised a viper, the velvet over steel…

Kahlan had all of these things in spades. As a warrior she was lethal, not to mention a brilliant tactician, a master of torture, and the most stunning woman to grace the ranks of the Sisterhood since Mistress Serena was in her youth. At least, according to Lord Zorander, and his opinion was the only one that mattered.

Kahlan knew her history, of course. She knew that the Sisterhood had once served the Rahl family, that the magic of their Agiels was still tied to Rahl blood, which was why they were not to kill any Rahls they captured. But that was before her time. The Rahls were weak, unwilling to lead D'Hara to its true glory. Zorander was strong, and under his rule they would prosper.

Kahlan's steps were muffled now by the red carpet that led up to the throne dais. There her lord sat. He was young in appearance, with a square jaw, blond hair that curled around his ears, and light blue eyes. But that appearance was deceiving. Lord Zorander had appeared much the same sixteen years ago when Kahlan first saw him, and sixteen years before that. Some said that he was immortal, and thousands of years old. Others held that he kept himself young with magic. Still others said that he was a god in earthly form.

Kahlan stopped five feet from the lowest step of the dais and knelt, putting her right fist over her heart and bowing her head.

Lord Zorander looked up with a quizzical expression, almost as if he had forgotten why he'd summoned her, but Kahlan knew better. Anyone who believed Lord Zorander to be absentminded was a fool.

"Ah, Mistress Kahlan," Lord Zorander said. There came the sound of insipid giggling. There was a woman in a voluminous gown draped across Lord Zorander's lap, all bouncing curls and curved pink lips. She was a princess and would be deflowered before the evening was out, no doubt. Kahlan's lord had a weakness for them, a carnal sweet tooth that demanded to be sated. But it was of no consequence.

Lord Zorander always returned to his Mord'Sith.

Kahlan raised her chin, showing her lord a placid face. "Master Zorander."

Lord Zorander feigned a sigh. "I'm afraid matters of state detain me, dear one," he said to his lapful of princess. "Why not go wait for me in my private study? There are some texts there that I would dearly love to show you." He smiled, a flash of white teeth that made him look boyish, and in Kahlan's opinion, one of the more dangerous weapons in his arsenal.

"I will go as you ask, Lord Zorander, most high.
Though please, do not tarry away from mine eyes.
Your books are lovely, that much is true,
But I would much rather feast upon you."

The princess gave what passed for a lascivious smile, then slid off of Lord Zorander's lap in a whisper of silk and a jaunty flounce of red hair. Kahlan felt her brows rise toward her hairline, but she did not turn her head to track the woman's progress out of the room. She kept her eyes firmly on Lord Zorander.

Her lord's smile faded as soon as the throne room doors closed behind the princess.

"Mistress Kahlan," he said, face blank. "You know that Mistress Serena failed when I sent her against the Seeker."

"Yes, my lord," Kahlan answered. Everyone knew of Serena's failure to break Jennsen Rahl. There was even a rumor that the Seeker had overcome her training enough to turn on her mistress, plunging the Sword of Truth through Serena's chest, instead of gutting the Confessor as she had been ordered. The Seeker claimed it was love. That the power of her love for the Confessor was stronger than pain.

Kahlan scoffed. No love was stronger than pain. She had seen proof of that.

"I offer you a chance to succeed where Serena did not," Lord Zorander went on.

"Thank you, my lord," Kahlan said, as was expected.

Lord Zorander smirked at her. "I have learned of the existence of another Rahl. A pristinely ungifted man by the name of Richard Xanatos."

Pristinely ungifted? Kahlan had heard tales about them. They were supposed to be immune to magic, and their blood was precious and rare, used in totems and protections. Part of the powers of the Mord'Sith had originated from the pristinely ungifted blood of a Rahl – the ability to turn magic back on its wielder. Every trainee drank a potion from the skull of a pristinely ungifted Rahl upon earning their Agiel.

"Yes, I see you understand his importance," Lord Zorander went on. "It has been years since a pristinely ungifted one was born, and their blood is most potent when it comes from living veins. I believe, that if we secure Richard's… cooperation, we may be able to bring down the Boundary."

Now Kahlan smiled, a tightlipped grin that showed just a hint of teeth and had earned her the nickname 'Snake.' "And with the Boundary down, we can invade the Seeker's village. She won't be able to resist coming to Hartland's aid."

"Excellent, my dear," Lord Zorander praised her, standing and holding out a hand in invitation. Kahlan rose to her feet and ascended the steps of the throne dais, sliding her gloved hand into Lord Zorander's. He wore a ring on each finger. "You've caught the drift of my thoughts, as always. Jennsen Rahl will return to her village, and you will be waiting for her. But first, we must catch the ungifted one."

"Yes, my lord," Kahlan said, pressing kisses to the underside of Master Zorander's jaw. Even with her boots, he was still taller than her.

"Xanatos is currently the body slave of the Prince of Rothenberg. I offered to buy him, but the boy prince is unnaturally attached. So I sent a spy instead. I've just received word that Xanatos and Prince Walter will be traveling to Thryce, to negotiate a marriage for the Princess Mika."

"They'll never arrive," Kahlan vowed.

Then she pushed her lord back into his throne and straddled his lap.

-l-

Kahlan caught Xanatos and his prince just outside the borders of Thryce. The prince was subdued easily enough. He had some sword craft, but he was clearly more of a scholar judging by the softness around his middle. One touch of the Agiel and he turned an unpleasant shade of grey and collapsed, screaming.

The Rahl was another story.

He fought like a starved wolf, a whirling dervish of solid muscle that had knives in place of fangs. He stabbed Dennee in the shoulder, leaving his dagger buried to the hilt in her flesh and sweeping her feet. Alana closed in, foolishly tried to use her Agiel, having forgotten all of Kahlan's warnings that they would not work against the pristinely ungifted one, and got her hand cut off for the trouble. She would bleed out soon enough if the wound wasn't tended.

Kahlan was impressed. This Richard Xanatos was a formidable fighter, and if the stories of his sexual prowess were true, he would be a most delicious pet. In fact, he was almost a Mord'Sith himself.

She hoped Lord Zorander would allow her to keep him.

Kahlan let the Rahl continue his assault on her quad for a few moments more in order to teach her Sisters a lesson, and then she hauled the Prince Walter up by his hair and tore his shirt open. "Xanatos!" she called, holding her Agiel poised just over the prince's heart. "Surrender now, or your master dies."

This was a calculated gamble. Xanatos might not be as attached to the prince as the prince was to him. He could simply laugh and run. But Kahlan thought not. No one fought that hard for a master they weren't loyal to.

Xanatos dropped his weapons, and Kahlan smiled her Snake smile.

Yes, the pristinely ungifted one had the honor of a Mord'Sith, and was deserving of respect.

-l-

Kahlan placed the prince and his Rahl in neighboring cells and made her footsteps deliberately heavy as she walked away, then paused to listen.

"Walter? Walter? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?" the Rahl said after a prolonged silence.

There was a loud groan, then, faintly. "Richard? Where…?"

"Thank the Spirits! Walter, just lie still. Does anything hurt? Are you bleeding?"

"I… I don't think so. My muscles ache, and by the Keeper, my head… What happened? I remember the Mord'Sith and those torture sticks they carry, but then – "

"I failed you."

"Richard, no! If anything, you saved me. A prince isn't supposed to need a bodyguard. I slowed you down. If I practiced the sword as much as I spend time reading – Richard, your chest!"

"Don't worry, it's not very deep. They just flayed the skin off. I'll be fine. I'm more upset about the blood ruining my shirt. You gave me this shirt."

"Richard, I give you all of your shirts."

A pained snicker. "Only to keep my chest hidden for yourself, you jealous cudgy."

"Richard!"

"It's fine. It only hurts when I laugh. Or breathe."

The sounds of someone moving through the dirt, the clink of metal against metal.

"Can you reach through the bars? I just. I need to touch you."

"Yes. Yes."

There was silence then. It went on so long that Kahlan nearly walked away to make her report. But then–

"Why did they flay your skin? Did you make them angry?"

"I don't know. That evil harpy strung me up, cut the skin off and caught my blood in a dish, and then she let me down."

"Well at least they bandaged you. That means they're going to keep us alive, doesn't it? Why bandage someone you're going to kill."

"You're going to get home, Walter. They'll ransom you and the Margrave will pay. You'll be fine."

"I won't leave without you, Richard. I'm not a warrior and I'm not a brave man, but I am a stubborn one. And I will not leave without you!"

"Oh, yes you will! If you get the opportunity, you'll get out of here. Promise me."

"Only if you promise the same thing."

"Fine."

So the pristinely ungifted one didn't know of the power in his blood. Interesting. Did he even know he was a Rahl?

Kahlan would bleed him slowly, taking a little each day. Patience was key with this particular pet. She had to be careful not to kill him, for the Breath of Life would not revive him. So she would tread with care. And then, when she had enough blood for Lord Zorander's purposes, the real training would begin.

-l-

"She tortured me for six days. Or maybe it was nine," Xanatos said, running a hand through his hair. "I lost track after a while. Things got fuzzy."

Richard's hands clenched, a specter of Denna rising in his thoughts. "I know the feeling," he said.

Surprised, Xanatos looked into his eyes. Then, "I see that you do."

"We were near Thryce when they were taken," Cara picked up the story. "The king got worried when the delegation from Rothenberg never showed up, and sent out a search party."

Jennsen nodded, stealing a piece of ham from Cara's plate. "They found the body of the Mord'Sith Rich- Xanatos had killed by the road, and called for the Seeker. After we heard, the first thing we did was ride to the nearest temple."

"Sloppy," Mason opined, stabbing at her plate with her knife. "She should have taken the time to remove the body. Had it been my mission, you would have never suspected the Mord'Sith were involved."

Dead silence met that pronouncement. Mason either didn't notice their disquiet, or didn't care. She just carried on carving her ham into tiny equally sized pieces.

"My dear," Darken said at last. "There are times that you terrify me."

Mason smiled, her entire face lighting up in a way that was almost childlike. "I know," she purred, leaning over to rub her cheek against Darken's stubble. "It's how you like your women, no matter what world."

Jennsen's eyes got as wide as saucers. Cara turned tomato red. Richard averted his gaze. And Xanatos? Xanatos clapped his hands. "Oh Creator, I like her. Mason, you and I are going to be fast friends."

"Mord'Sith do not have friends."

"Neither do pleasure slaves turned assassin. And yet, here we are."

"Assassin?"

"Right, I still haven't explained the name. Well, I earned it as a whore. Mikros Xanatos," he licked his lips in an absolutely obscene way. "Just a little death. And after meeting Mistress Kahlan and the Merry Band here, I turned assassin for the resistance. There's only so much you can do with skills like mine, as I'm sure you understand. The name carried over. Only these days, it's just Death. Nothing little about it."

-l-

When the Seeker and her Confessor invaded the temple, Kahlan was made to flee. She had lost too many Sisters to injury while capturing the pristinely ungifted one, and lost more now to slashes of the Sword of Truth. Jennsen Rahl fought with the strength and skill of all who had wielded the sword - an one woman army, skin glowing blue in the reflected light of her blade. The Confessor dealt death with a single touch to any Mord'Sith unwary enough to get close. And Darken Rahl - Damn him to the Keeper and back! - tipped what might have been a close battle into an impossible one.

Wizards were not supposed to be more than men in extravagant robes, too thin or too fat, useless once you took their powers away. And yet Darken Rahl held a blacksmith's hammer in one hand and a long black whip in the other, wise not to use magic they could turn back on him. The whip cracked the air as it sped past Kahlan, wrapping around Lara's face.

Darken Rahl yanked, biceps bulging, using the whip to pull Lara within striking range of his hammer, his face grim and his eyes like two gemstones – cold and hard. His features were like Walter's, and Kahlan hated him all the more for that, for being strong when he looked weak. Even as she turned to run, she vowed the she would one day see the Wizard Rahl collared and kneeling at her feet. She would put sapphires in his Rada Han to match his eyes, and his voice calling her mistress would be the sweetest music. How he would beg and fawn for her favor...

That thought carried her to the holding cells. She didn't have time to gather both her prisoners. Richard Xanatos was the more valuable, by virtue of being pristinely ungifted and a Rahl – and it would be so amusing, to have both brothers for pets. But he had contracted a fever due to the near constant bloodletting, and he would slow her down.

Kahlan took Walter.

Her lord would be angry with her for losing the pristinely ungifted one, but she would not be going to him empty handed. She had several vials of Richard's blood, and the Crown Prince of Rothenberg. She would be punished, but not severely.

-l-

When Lord Zorander first saw Prince Walter, he laughed. "Well that is a poor disguise," he said, and waved one hand. Kahlan felt magic flow over her skin, and had to beat down the impulse to turn it back. Using her abilities against her lord meant death.

Walter's appearance did not change, and Lord Zorander came closer, circling Kahlan and her charge.

"Shorter than the boy," he said to himself. "And the hair's all wrong. But otherwise… hmm."

Lord Zorander faced Kahlan. "You have done well, dear one. Now please take Prince… Walter, was it? Please take him to a suite in the royal wing. Darken Rahl's old rooms. We'll keep him there until we have a use for him. I'm sure something will turn up, eventually."

-l-

The first thing Richard saw when he emerged from the delirium of the blood fever was Darken Rahl bending over him and blotting at his face with a cool cloth.

"Thank the Spirits," he sighed through a dry throat. Grabbing Darken by the front of his robes, he pulled him down into a blistering kiss. "Walter. Walter."

"Not that I don't appreciate this form of gratitude," a D'Haran accented voice that was not Walter's rumbled in Richard's ear. "But I am Darken Rahl, Wizard of the First Order."

"And I'm Jennsen Rahl," a redheaded woman Richard hadn't initially noticed piped up.

"She's the Seeker of Truth," said a second woman, this one a blonde. "And Princess of D'Hara."

Richard blinked, a half forgotten memory swimming to the surface of his mind. Darken offered him a drink of water, and Richard took it gratefully. Then he said, "Once upon a time, there was a little prince. No one knew he was a prince except for his mother and grandmother. But he had a dark haired wizard brother and a sister with tresses like blood, and one day they were going to come back for him, and he was going to live in a castle, and ride a horse like a knight, and always have shoes that fit."

Darken and Jennsen stared down at him in shock.

"What's your mother's name?" Darken Rahl demanded.

Richard closed his eyes. "Taralyn. Taralyn Shotasdaughter."

-l-

"My mother was a princess of Rothenberg," Darken explained, upon seeing Richard's confusion. "Walter and I are cousins, and the resemblance is… uncanny. He's no relation to Jennsen or Xanatos, however."

"I wouldn't care if he was," Xanatos declared. "You don't throw love like that away."

Mason smiled at Xanatos and offered him her hand. They gripped each other's forearms in a warrior's clasp.

"We'd better get some rest if we're setting out for Agaden Reach tomorrow," Xanatos said when the oddly ritualistic exchange was done. "You can all bed down with me, but it'll be a little cramped. I'm not here often. This is just a place to sleep when I'm not out killing for the cause." He directed this last at Mason, showing her toward the stairs.

Jennsen watched Mason precede Xanatos up the stairs and chewed on her lip.

"I'm not sure if it's good that he's taking her under his wing, or if one day they're going to kill us all," Cara said.

Darken made the sign of the Creator, pressing two fingers to his heart, then his lips, and then rotating his wrist outward, releasing his blessing into the air. "Let us fervently pray that it is the former rather than the latter."

"Cheer up, Cara," Richard put in. "At least they'd probably kill Darken first."

Cara laughed so hard that she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

"That was mean, Richard," Jennsen chastised him, but she was smiling.

Darken merely stuck his nose in the air. "Peasants." With that, he marched up the stairs.

-l-

Agaden Reach was nothing like it was in Richard's world. Shota had kept it wild and mysterious, with a feeling in the air that nothing was as it seemed and Shota herself might appear behind a tree at any moment.

The Witch Woman Salindra had a castle.

"No subtlety," Darken muttered under his breath.

"I know," Xanatos agreed.

Darken was wearing a set of deep azure robes with a train that followed him like the tide of the sea. Richard had watched him cast a spell on it to keep it from getting dirty. And Xanatos, ready and willing to fulfill his dual roles of distraction and bribery, had stripped down to just his leather boots and breeches and dusted his chest with something that made it glitter in the light of the sun. His collar gleamed against the flawless skin of his throat, and he'd put a gold cuff on his left ear.

"No subtlety at all," Richard said.

They weren't far into Salindra's realm when Mason stepped in front of Darken, barring his path. "I sense magic. Something is coming."

There was a gurgling growl that somehow communicated a feeling of mirth, and then a lion came trotting out of the trees.

A lion. Richard had only ever seen one as a drawing in a book.

It was as tall as a horse, and had tawny fur and a long, luxurious mane. There was a scar just above its left eye, neatly bisecting the brow bone.

"Marcellus," Darken Rahl greeted the giant cat. "Well met. Is Salindra receiving guests?"

The lion gave another chuckling growl, and then it was shifting before Richard's eyes. There was the sickening crunch of grinding bones, the strange slurping sound of fur vanishing into skin, and then the air was filled with thick turquoise smoke.

When the smoke cleared, a man stood where the lion had been. He was pale and handsome, with sharp cheekbones and hair the same tawny shade as the lion's fur. There was still a scar dividing his left eyebrow, and his eyes had stayed the lion's gold, dancing with some inner fire.

He was also completely naked, not a stitch of clothing to hide the toned elegance of his body.

"For you, Wizard Rahl," the shapeshifter said, "always." And then Marcellus curled his tongue behind his teeth, making a face that should have been ridiculous, but instead was pure sex. Richard could feel himself flushing, and was spared mortification only because everyone but Xanatos was reacting the same way.

Then Marcellus tilted his head. "Salindra is calling."

He turned back into a lion and led them to the castle.

-l-

The Witch Woman Salindra was waiting for them in a large room that had been enchanted to look like a forest glade, which seemed a little pointless to Richard. Why didn't she just go outside?

He caught himself wondering what Zedd would think about it.

Salindra lounged on a pile of furs, and leaned back against Marcellus' flank once he joined her, still in lion form. Her dress was a simple sheathe, cut low in the back, and was the same turquoise color as the smoke of Marcellus' transformation. Tawny hair spilled around her in waves, and she had sharp cheekbones and pouting lips. Face paint highlighted her eyes and rouged her cheeks, her lips a sensuous berry red. Richard thought maybe she and Marcellus were twins.

And all around them milled a crowd of gorgeous blond men in various states of undress and transformation. One of them, broad chested and tall and currently sporting a tiger's tail, came to feed Salindra from a bowl of grapes.

"Thank you, Warren," she said to him, stroking his large hand.

Marcellus the lion made mewling noises into Salindra's ear and licked her cheek, and she pushed at his muzzle. "Stop it. I know there's two of them. I Saw them coming, remember?"

"Salindra," Xanatos said, stepping forward so that he was front and center. "We've come to – "

"Yes, I know why you're here," Salindra interrupted. She got to her feet, and Richard could tell from the drape of the fabric that she wasn't wearing anything under her dress. "And the answer is no. I will not tell you where the Boxes of Orden are."

Richard's fists clenched. It took Jennsen and Cara's hands on his arms to steady him, to keep him from shouting.

"Why not?" Xanatos asked much more calmly than Richard would have. "Without the Power of Orden, Mason and Richard will never get home."

"Because I have seen the future." Salindra slinked away from her pile of furs, going to a crystalline basin that sat perched on a stand of knotted wood. The stand looked as if it had grown there, rather than been carved. Salindra held a hand out to her side, and another of her animal men brought her a pitcher of water. He was beautiful from the neck down, but his features were that of a pig.

"He's being punished," Jennsen whispered with a tremulous smile at Richard. "She did that to Darken once. Turned him into a whole pig, hooves and all."

"Not for long," Darken pouted. "I turned myself back."

But Richard wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Salindra touched a fingertip to the water in the basin, swirling it to the left three times. "Every path that sees the Boxes of Orden brought together ends not just in a gateway between worlds, but a tear in the veil that separates the living from the dead."

Salindra raised her eyes, and Richard felt like she was looking straight into his soul. "Best leave the boxes where they are and learn to live here. Otherwise, you are for the Keeper."

-l-

Richard wasn't sure what happened after that. His ears buzzed and everything seemed very far away. People were talking, but it took him a long time to understand what they were saying, if he did at all.

He would never see Kahlan again.

He realized he was crying.

"My people," he heard himself say. His lips felt numb. "My world needs the Seeker."

"Not the Seeker," Salindra corrected, staring into her scrying dish again. "A Seeker. There is another who can be Named. He just needs that."

She pointed, and Richard looked down at the Sword of Truth. It hung from his belt, just as it had since the day he accepted the Name of Seeker.

Once, he hadn't wanted that sword. But at some point it had become a part of him. He knew every scratch, every curl of filigree. The sound it made when it whistled through the air, and how it felt when it was burning bright, filling him with the strength of all the Seekers before him. He knew what it looked like dripping with blood, and how heavy it could be.

"Is there a way to send it home?" he asked.

He'd thought being the Seeker was about continuing to fight in the face of impossible odds, of never losing hope, of always taking the hard path. He'd thought it was sweat and blood and heartache and love and tears upon tears upon tears.

There were still tears, and a love that threatened to break him in half, but Richard knew now that none of those things were what made a Seeker.

Being the Seeker was letting go of what you wanted, even when what you wanted was the quest.

"If Darken helps me, perhaps," Salindra said.

Richard drew the Sword of Truth, and held the blade up to the light, admiring it. Saying goodbye. Then he handed it to Salindra. "My First Wizard and Witch Woman moved the sun once. I believe you can do it."

-l-

The ritual was simple. Darken and Salindra made a circle of water and salt, put Richard's Sword of Truth in the center of it, lit candles to represent the element of fire, and joined hands. They stared at each other, and it looked like they weren't doing anything at all. But then a sudden wind whipped around them, storm clouds boiling in the sky, and they were screaming a chant in High D'Haran.

Richard started to take cover, dragging Jennsen with him towards Xanatos, who was untouched by the maelstrom, but it was over as soon as it began. Richard's ears popped, and the sword was gone. The wind died down, and Darken and Salindra stared at each other for another long moment before releasing each other's hands.

Then they pitched backwards, both of them falling into a dead faint.

Salindra's bevy of animal men rushed to tend to her, gathering her up and bearing her off without a word to the rest of them. The one with the tiger tail, Warren, lifted her easily, cradling her against his chest while a fox man and a wolf man fluttered around them, chattering to each other about restorative teas and hot baths. Marcellus the lion brought up the rear.

Darken was just as well cared for. Mason descended on him the instant he hit the ground, checking his breath and his pulse. In an impressive show of strength, she pulled his arms around her shoulders, supported his thighs with her hands, and stood up, carrying him on her back. His head lolled against her neck, her braid caught between their bodies.

"Need any help?" Xanatos asked.

"No," Mason grunted, stooped forward to keep Darken from falling off. Her face was turning red, but her expression showed no sign of the strain she must be feeling.

"Right. I've been here before. I'll show you where the guest rooms are."

They got Darken settled easily enough, Xanatos pointing out which passages in the castle were safe and the rest of them splitting up to fetch water, bed linens, and food at his direction. Mason wouldn't leave Darken's bedside, and no one tried to force the issue. In the castle of a witch who wanted Darken as a stud horse for an army of magical children, having a Mord'Sith guard him was probably a good idea.

Darken woke up just as Richard was leaving the room.

"I'm glad you're still here," Richard heard him whisper to Mason.

"Senseless man," she replied. "I was never going to leave."

Darken chuckled. "You should never expect sense from a wizard."

Richard pulled the bedroom door shut behind him.

-l-

"And this one's for you," Xanatos said, showing Richard into the last room in the hall. "Don't leave until I come back to get you. There's no telling what nasty surprises Salindra has around this place that my presence keeps from working."

Richard blinked, a new thought occurring to him. "Xanatos, the room we were in before. The one where Salindra was waiting for us. What did it look like to you?"

"A room. Why? Did she turn it into the Gardens of Life or something?"

"Yes. Something like that."

Xanatos shrugged. "Every gift has a downside. Speaking of which, I wouldn't eat the persimmons if I were you. She always does something to the persimmons."

Richard eyed the bowl of fruit on the bedside table. "Good to know. Thanks for the warning."

With that, Xanatos left Richard to his thoughts.

He didn't sleep that night.

-l-

Xanatos came to get Richard in the morning too late for breakfast, but too early for lunch. "Sorry if you got hungry," he apologized. "The apprentices don't cook until Salindra gets up, and she slept late this morning."

"I don't remember seeing any apprentices." They stepped out of the room and went down the left corridor. Richard wasn't sure how Xanatos remembered his way around the labyrinthine halls of Salindra's castle. The passageways seemed to be constantly shifting and moving, so that Richard couldn't develop a sense of the layout. Maybe it looked different to pristinely ungifted eyes?

"Sure you did. They were all there at the ritual yesterday."

Richard thought. "Oh. You mean the men? I thought they were her… harem."

Xanatos laughed. "Why can't they be both? She collects them, pretty men with enough han to train. I'd have been the jewel in her crown, if she didn't get tired of her spells not working around me. It's just as well," he laughed again. "I'd hate to see Darken and the Witch Woman get into a fight over me. Imagine the scratching and hair pulling."

They turned a corner and Richard joined in the laughter, and his was only a little hysterical.

Then he sobered. "I wanted to talk to you."

"So talk."

"I have a plan." Richard sucked in a deep breath, preparing to take the plunge. He'd been up all night, unable to stop the furious churn of his thoughts. If he could convince Xanatos, the others would fall in line. If he couldn't... "A plan to rescue Walter."

Xanatos stopped dead in his tracks. Then he shoved Richard against the wall, hard enough that Richard saw spots when the back of his skull struck the stone. Xanatos put a forearm across his throat, and leaned, cutting off Richard's breath and staring into his eyes. Richard stared back, not struggling. He hadn't seen the similarities between himself and Xanatos when they first met, but now it was like looking into a cracked mirror, at a darker refraction of himself. He recognized that rage, the fury of love and home lost.

Xanatos must have seen the same thing, because he swore. "Keeper take it, you're turning into me."

He let Richard go, taking two steps back.

"I want one of us to be with the person we love," Richard croaked. "At least one of us."

Xanatos frowned. "It's not just that, and you're lying to yourself if you think so. I know you. This isn't just about rescuing Walter. You want Kahlan."

Richard looked down, feeling as if a pit had opened up beneath his feet. "Yes," he admitted, barely audible.

"Fine," Xanatos said, clapping Richard's shoulder hard enough to make Richard grit his teeth. "So long as you know."

Richard's brow furrowed. "You don't mind?"

"I don't care so long as I get Walter back. And if our positions were reversed, if Walter was the one who… I'd have to try."

Richard could breathe again. "Here's the plan."

-l-

"Jondralyn is just beyond that rise," Mason said, pointing towards the horizon.

"Are you sure about this?" Jennsen asked, looking Richard up and down. He was dressed in Xanatos' second best leathers, and he'd cut his hair so that he'd look as exactly like his twin as possible. The only thing missing was the gold collar, but Xanatos was unwilling to take it off and Richard was sick inside at the thought of wearing it, so they left it where it was, hoping that its absence wouldn't matter.

Darken could have conjured one, but showed a depth of perception that Richard hadn't thought him capable of and did not offer.

"This will work," Xanatos said. "It's a good plan. We sent word to Zorander that we're willing to trade. The pristinely ungifted one for the Prince of Rothenberg."

"And he took the bait," Richard continued. "All the notice boards have posters saying that Richard Xanatos should present himself at the temple of Jondralyn to claim his reward. Only I'll be the one that goes. They won't be expecting someone who can wield an Agiel. I can stall long enough to make sure Walter is safe, and then I can fight my way free. And Xanatos and Mason will be waiting. Between her knowledge of the temple's layout, and Xanatos dispelling all the defensive magic, they'll be able to come in after me if I don't make the rendezvous."

"Or free Walter if the Mord'Sith don't keep their word to release him," Cara put in.

If she'd expected to offend Mason, it didn't work. The Mord'Sith just smiled at her. It wasn't a friendly expression.

"Be careful, all of you," Jennsen said, drawing Xanatos into a long hug. She hugged Richard too, reaching up to tweak his earlobe. "And you better come back, Richard Cypher. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another brother that turned up unexpectedly. I'm plagued with them, you know."

Richard hugged his sister. Her hair smelled just the same as it always had.

"Goodbye, brother," Darken said when it was his turn. "I know that in your world – "

Richard stopped him with a raised hand. "My wizard once told me that we all have dark desires, yearnings for vengeance, and we must remember how those feelings stir our blood... because what marks the line between good and evil is the choice not to act on them. I look at you, and I know that's true." He gripped Darken's shoulder. "Just keep choosing good, and I'll be proud to call you brother."

They embraced.

-l-

"Kahlan!" Richard called in the closest approximation he could manage of Xanatos' D'Haran accent. He was standing outside the gates of Jondralyn. "I'm here! Send Walter out!"

There was the clanking of a chain, and the portcullis rose one inch at a time, the noise overcome only by the rapid pounding of Richard's heart in his ears. Finally, the way stood clear, and one panel of the heavy tower doors opened. Walter, recognizable to Richard by his resemblance to Darken Rahl, came stumbling out, barefoot and filthy, his hands tied before him.

He tripped once, but righted himself and made a beeline for Richard, surging up on his tiptoes for a desperate kiss. Richard, having been warned by his counterpart to expect something of this nature, returned the kiss so as not to give away their ruse.

"Please don't do this, darling," Walter begged, tears making tracks in the grime that coated his face. "Don't give yourself up for me. It's not worth it."

Richard put his hands on Walter's shoulders, steadying him. "I'm not. You'll see. Run into the woods behind me," he murmured, eyes darting all around them. Where was Kahlan? Was she even there? "Keep going until you meet a red haired woman and a man in blue robes. They'll explain everything."

"But – "

"Just trust me."

Walter pressed another kiss to Richard's lips and ran. Richard paid no mind, for that was the instant that Kahlan stepped into view, her red leather armor hugging her every curve.

The sight of her alone was enough to bring Richard to his knees. He knew it wasn't her, but it was, oh it was, was,was. She had just the same expression on her face as she had when Richard first met her in another life, when he had tried to help her and she drew a dagger on him.

"Xanatos," she greeted him, and her voice was like music to his ears. He was lost, without direction, and she was a constellation that showed the way to shore.

She was his North Star.

She kicked him in the ribs, then struck his temple, knocking him out cold.

-l-

Richard held out for five and a half days, as far as he could tell. Sometimes, if Kahlan hit him hard enough to make him swing on the chains he was hanging from, he could catch glimpses out of the high stained glass window. So he thought five days had passed, maybe more.

Walter would be safe by now. And Richard's plan hinged on Kahlan trusting him enough to leave her Agiel where he could reach it.

It was time to start earning that trust.

He closed his eyes, thought of his Kahlan, and let the tears come. With an overwhelming wave of relief that threatened to break him in truth, he said, "Mistress… I love you."

And then he told her everything.

Not just the things they had agreed he would say. No. He told her everything, starting with the fact that he was from another world. He poured out the frothing sea of his mangled emotions, and found Kahlan an avid listener, just as it had always been between them. He talked about Zedd and Zorander, Rahl and Darken, himself and Xanatos, and Kahlan, Kahlan, Kahlan.

He told her about their love, and their adventures. He asked if she remembered the lullaby she had sung to Renn, and when she didn't, he taught it to her. He talked about the Con Dar and the Rada Han, and he told her about Denna, and Orden, and every dark, evil impulse he'd ever had.

And he confessed that he was weak. If she were the one in a different world, if she were the one who was lost, she would be strong. She would stay true to him. She would keep fighting to get back, no matter what it meant, no matter how much it hurt her.

But Richard was tired of pain.

And being the Seeker was letting go.

So Richard let go, and when Kahlan started wearing white leathers, he didn't mind. It was nice, comforting, to see her in white again. Especially because she wore it for him.

She had always been the only person with the power to break him.

They made love in every way Richard knew how, and one or two that he didn't. Kahlan let him worship her, just the way he'd always dreamed, and Richard started to forget.

He forgot which world he was in. Forgot who was the Seeker. He forgot if it was Rahl or Zorander that he was supposed to be fighting. He even forgot that if he didn't meet Xanatos and Mason at the rendezvous point in a fortnight, they would come looking for him.

There was just Kahlan, and Kahlan was perfect.

-l-

"Tell me again the story of a love greater than pain," Kahlan commanded. Richard had just finished buckling her leathers for her, and was now braiding her hair, she sitting on a low stool and he perched on the edge of her bed.

She was talking about the time he had overcome Denna's training in order to save her life. It was her favorite story. Richard had lost track of how many times he'd told it to her now.

"Again?" Richard teased. "Surely my mistress has tired of that tale."

"My own father did not love me enough to fight his conditioning. To hear of someone who was able not only to defy a direct order, but to strike down their mistress is… interesting."

Richard tied off the end of Kahlan's braid and kissed the crown of her head. "I love you."

"I know."

"Love isn't something to fear, Kahlan."

She turned to face him, running the pad of her thumb over his lips. She wasn't wearing her gloves yet. "Mord'Sith believe emotions must be governed. Sadness, remorse, love, these feelings make you weak. But anger, loyalty, pride… these feelings make you powerful."

"Then why," Richard asked with a gentle smile, "is it a Mord'Sith's duty to love Lord Rahl?"

Kahlan's eyes filled with tears that she wouldn't let fall. "Richard Rahl," she sighed.

"Yes," Richard said. "Richard Rahl."

Whatever Kahlan might have done next, Richard was not to know.

It all happened in an instant, so fast it didn't seem real. The doors of Kahlan's private chambers exploded inwards, and Mason and Xanatos were there, Mason's Agiel screaming with the high-pitched whine of torture magic. She seemed to fly across the room, kicking a brass vase at Kahlan's legs to foul her footing, and pouncing on her.

Kahlan twisted and dodged, flipping to her feet with her own Agiel in hand, meeting Mason in a dance of destruction that moved so fast Richard could barely follow it. They were a whirlwind of red and white, a snake striking at a lion. Their braids swayed with their bodies, black against gold. Mason backhanded Kahlan so hard that Richard could hear the slap of leather on flesh. Kahlan responded with a kick to Mason's knee that made something crack. Richard was afraid to intervene, afraid doing something, even shouting for them to stop, would get one of them killed.

Xanatos had no such qualms. He drew his crossbow and took aim. "No!" Richard roared, running across the room to yank the weapon from his twin's hands.

The distraction might have been what Xanatos was aiming for all along. Kahlan's head whipped around at Richard's shout, and in an instant Mason had her on the floor, arm twisted painfully behind her back and Agiel digging into her neck. Black torture magic spread across Kahlan's skin, following the path of her veins. It was the blood.

It was always the blood.

"I am Mord'Sith," Kahlan said without a hint of pain, proud to the last. "I demand an honorable death!"

"Mason, no! Please, Cara, don't kill her!"

Xanatos wrapped his arms around Richard's shoulders, holding him back even as he looked at him with eyes that said he understood.

"Your knife," Mason said to Xanatos. "Like we discussed."

Xanatos squeezed Richard's arms. "Trust us."

Xanatos had trusted Richard to get Walter free.

Richard stopped struggling, and Xanatos took one of his long knives off his belt and handed it to Mason.

Mason raised the dagger high. "You will live," she said to Kahlan, yanking Kahlan's head back by the long braid Richard had spent a candlemark weaving. "And the only honor you shall have will be what you earn in service to the Rahls."

With a flash of silver metal, Mason cut off Kahlan's braid. Then she took Kahlan's Agiel and sheathed it next to her own, before dragging the woman over to Richard.

"Swear to him!" Mason demanded, forcing Kahlan to bow her head with a handful of her shorn hair. "Swear to him, and mean it. Master Rahl, guide us. Master Rahl, teach us."

"In your light we shine," Kahlan muddled her way through the unfamiliar oath. As she spoke, Richard felt a tingle at the back of his mind. A thin, spectral thread, wispy and uncertain, connecting his blood to Kahlan's.

It was always the blood.

The Rahl bond.

Richard filled it with love.

"Oh," Kahlan said, her eyes seeking his.

Mason let Kahlan's hair go and went to stand by the door with Xanatos. "That's what it's supposed to be like. That's what it's like with a true Rahl."

The Rahl bond between Richard and Kahlan trembled, and Richard stroked it with soothing mental fingers. It's okay, it's okay, all is forgiven. You didn't know. I love you.

"Come on," Richard said, helping Kahlan to her feet, drawing her towards the door – and the world beyond it. "I want you to meet the Seeker."

"You're the Seeker," Kahlan protested, but fell into step with him just the same.

Richard shrugged. "Not anymore."

Thank you for reading! :D Hope you enjoyed it, and that it adequately fulfilled the prompt.

End Notes:

Panis Rahl seems less evil in Compass!verse: I think he seems less evil to Darken because a lot of Panis' evil came from fear, and in this reality it's not Darken he fears. Also, in this reality Darken is everything a Rahl is supposed to be – powerful magically and physically.

Darken Rahl calling everyone 'dear': Wizard!Darken does this because he grew up around Zedd calling everyone 'dear one' all the time.

The appearances of Salindra's apprentices/harem are based on the following actors:

Marcellus: James Marsters

Warren: Alexander Skarsgaard

Pig Man: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

Wolf Man: Chris Hemsworth

Fox Man: Orlando Bloom

Prince!Walter: In my mind, basically looks like Haldir.