Characters: Kahlan, Denna, referenced Cara and Richard
Length: 503
Not So Different
"You know, we're not so different, you and I," Denna said casually, from where she reclined at her ease on a blood-red couch.
Kahlan stared at her, wishing for the Con Dar, because she was a Confessor—she really could kill Denna with a mere look.
After all she and Richard had been through, that they should get so far...the Veil to the Underworld was sealed, peace was being restored, village by village, to the war-torn Midlands...and now, here they were, held captive once more by Denna, who by rights should be dead, in a D'Haran prison.
Kahlan couldn't see how so little could have changed. And her whole soul cried out for Richard.
"I am nothing like you," she said contemptuously, not caring that she was comparatively helpless, where she hung in her chains. Denna hadn't bound her with a Rada'Han (perhaps she didn't possess one?), but without the Con Dar, Kahlan was basically powerless.
"Both strong—too strong to accept another's rule over us," Denna went on, watching Kahlan intently. "I know you would do anything for Richard, and I assure you, you'll have to: the townspeople will hang him tomorrow for causing the plague of banelings that kept farmers from their crops during that horrible year...unless someone were to intercede for him."
Kahlan played for time, in spite of her horror that anyone could blame Richard for the banelings sent by the Keeper in His bid to claim the Land of the Living. "Why would you do that?"
Denna shrugged one elegant shoulder. "Richard is still Lord Rahl," she said carelessly, "even if he refuses to claim the title. And Lord Rahl needs a First Mistress."
Kahlan was aghast (and, she admitted secretly to herself, a little awed) at Denna's effrontery. "You think torturing me will make Richard trust you?" she asked, incredulously.
Before Denna could answer, Kahlan caught a flicker of movement behind Denna out of the corner of her eye. She knew that sardonic expression, eyebrows raised and eyes rolling upward, anywhere, and her heart lifted.
"Richard is already mine," Denna hissed. She sprang forward and grabbed Kahlan's hair in a punishing grip. "He always has been. Your image may be stamped on his heart, but even you can't erase my mark there. Someday Richard will lay waste to this world, with me by his side—and you will be my slave."
Kahlan tilted her head, to ease the strain of her pulled hair and to keep Denna's attention focused on her. There was a glimmer of blonde hair behind the ornate screen...
"There is one difference between us, Denna," she said sweetly. "You see—" a rush of movement and Cara kicked Denna's legs out from under her—
Denna yanked out several strands of Kahlan's hair, and Kahlan finished, looking into Cara's eyes now, "I have friends."
But as Cara unlocked Kahlan's chains, keeping a menacing foot at Denna's neck, Kahlan looked down into those proud eyes...
"You'll see," Denna said. "We're not so different, Kahlan Amnell..."