FIC: Dawn is Breaking (IV/VI)

[madame_denna]

Pairing: Denna/Kahlan
Rating: R
Words: ~1657
Warnings: character death, explicit violence and torture, dubious consent & content
Summary: Kahlan needs to cope with a new and different life. After an apocalyptic battle in a world in which Darken Rahl has won and she has lost almost everything. Except for Denna. Kahlan can't quite decide if it's a good thing, or the worst. After all, Denna is there to help.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. They are not mine and - of course no money is made. I don't own any of them, but I have a distinctive feeling Denna might own me...
A/N: I'll finish this fic if it's the last thing I do. You know who to blame..


Part III


It has been a little over a two days since Denna toyed with the very end of a tether which holds Kahlan to her sanity; all the while the memories of a once perfect world still cut into her like edgy shards of a broken mirror.

Kahlan waits for the tether to snap - to escape into her own mind - but mercilessly it doesn't.

She will not think about Cara and what Denna did to her. She doesn't think about how she herself failed to do anything at all to avoid it.

Kahlan reasons that hope is a principle she once treasured, but is not able to afford anymore. She couldn't possibly believe that Cara had been alive all this time and not a figment of her imagination; trust that she wasn't truly alone and there could come a time when this was all over and not thought of often, as some things can never be forgotten.

Kahlan clings to gratefulness instead. No matter what she endured during the time in the temple Kahlan must be grateful. Beneath the painful clenching of her heart - whenever she thinks about family, friends, lovers she has lost - she can't find it in her heart to feel not relived for what she has been spared. It could be worse, she thinks. After all, it could be so much worse.

Kahlan believes that even Denna must know she has her limits. Even when the Mord’Sith proves to enjoy pushing these boundaries more often than not. It is inevitable and will continue until she finally passes away and Kahlan has come to accept that.

And the end is near, for Kahlan can not - will not - entertain thoughts a future that contains of many years to come.

Darken Rahl or Denna will be bored with her screams eventually. There is nothing left to give, no more secrets to tell. And then, she can return home at last.

Somewhere, hidden away in one of the dark corners of her dungeon, water drips from a crack in the ceiling to the stone floor. The splashing sound every few seconds when the drop of water hits the ground is the only constant Kahlan has left in life. It is the one she concentrates on, when a group of four Mord’Sith enter. It must have been more or less then six hours, since Denna had previously left her.

Kahlan knows why they are here now. They have come to retrieve the body.

They have come to take Cara away.

Kahlan trains her eyes on the wall and counts.

One-hundred-thirty-eight drops of water later the room is hers and hers alone once more.

Unshed tears brim in her eyes and Kahlan keeps on counting.

—

"You reek terribly of fear Kahlan."

She watches as Denna scrunches up her nose as she steps closer to where she is shackled to the ceiling in the middle of the room, twisting her face in disgust.

"I think I'll have Constance take care of that." Denna nods faintly, moving at a leisurely pace around her, before concluding a full circle and comes to a stop in front of her once more, while Kahlan's blood runs cold in her veins and she goes suddenly very very still.. "She did so well with you last time, didn't she? And you.. will need to be prepared."

"How would you like that, Kahlan?" Denna asks lightly, her tone calm and even, as if she wasn't the madwoman that she is. Her lips, painted in a deep red, curl into the beginning of a smirk, but not quite, as if something holds back the malicious glee Kahlan has so often witnessed lightening up the blonde's face.

"You remember Constance, don't you?" Denna whispers in a sickening cooing tune, but it seems like she knows perfectly well that Kahlan hasn't forgotten the dark haired sister of hers.

Oh, yes she does. How well she remembers Constance.

The shiver running down her spine as the memories come vividly back to the surface causes the chains above to rattle, the motion is completely involuntary but Kahlan can't command her body anymore to still the movement.

She remembers each bucket of ice-cold water as well as the hard brush with short sturdy bristles, scrubbing and clawing at her even long after the first layer of skin was gone, leaving her flesh raw and aching. Wounds and cuts barely healed ripped open over and over. She remembers screaming until her throat was sore and no sound would come. Constance never stopped, never wavered in her anger filled cruelty. Afterward, Kahlan had believed it to be the merciful end of her suffering, as a high fever that followed Constance attentions, took her into a delirious heaven of dreams without fear and colorful hallucinations for many days to come.

"No, please. Not Constance." She hears the words tumble from her mouth before she's even made a conscious choice of voicing them, "I do whatever you want me to - but please, not her." Kahlan shakes her head so violently, that her vision starts to blur and when her voice sounds like she's begging Denna to change her mind, she doesn't find the strength to care. There is only so much one can take and Constance’s particular care is definitely not one of those things anymore.

In conclusion, Kahlan realizes that she'd prefer Denna any other day to any of her sisters and it gives her pause. In moments like this, Kahlan wonders if these are the telltale signs towards complete devotion that bode her downfall, the end of her existence - the cessation of her kind.

Denna regards her closely, a brow rising in sudden curiosity at her emotional outburst. Kahlan can see, the blonde is intrigued about her reaction, but it doesn't mean that Denna even considers to grant her wish.

Maybe she'll just watch instead, Kahlan thinks, holding Denna's clear blue eyes with her own. It wouldn't be that far of a stretch.

In the distance Kahlan hears the clacking of heels against stone tiles. Getting louder, coming closer.

She knows she has not much time left. And from the challenge in her eyes, Denna seems to agree.

Fear is still a very real emotion and Kahlan - even when there was once a time when she never thought this a possibility, an occasion where she - the Mother Confessor - would beg a Mord'Sith, especially Denna - for lenience, knows deep inside that she has come to a place where she doesn't care about appearances any longer and really, for whom should she keep on fighting? For her honor or her memory? No one who's opinion ever mattered is among the living anymore - no one left to judge, so it is beyond reason to suffer more than necessary just for defiance’ sake - or a fight that had been lost before it even began.

Lifting her chin up from where it rests against her breastbone, she meets Denna's gaze head on. She studies Denna's steel-blue eyes, that are quite similar in shade to her own, but also cold and crue - and nothing like hers, yet with fascinating depth that Kahlan can admit to without shame. Maybe this is the point of surrender she had loathed to acknowledge, but then Kahlan sees no point in denying herself at least the possibility of a moment of rest and quiet or just not more suffering. The words when they eventually come, don't come easy, but she never expected they would. Her voice is raw but sincere, laced with an intimacy that Kahlan never thought Denna would ever be privy to hear, "Please Mistress Denna, don't let her take me away from you."

Denna studies her with an unreadable expression on her face for a long while, as she stands very still in front of Kahlan, hands clutched firmly behind her back. It is the first time Kahlan has ever said her name, and Denna must realize the significance of it, if the miniscule widening of her eyes is any indication, although it's gone as quickly as it appeared.

Outside, the steps in the hallway echo off of the walls and Kahlan’s heart adapts to thrum anxiously in their unsteady rhythm.

The whisper of Denna’s breath dances across her face and were she to lean forwards just a fraction, her lips would touch to Kahlan’s.

The door creaks as it opens forcefully behind them. Mistress Constance takes two measured steps inside the dungeon and Kahlan’s skin begins to prickle.

"Mistress Denna." Her tone is harsh, unfriendly and tinted so blatantly with disapproval, that it makes Kahlan believe the other Mord'Sith didn't expect to find Denna still in here. But Kahlan doesn't dare to break Denna’s penetrating gaze, that hasn't wavered even with the arrival of her sister.

The silence in the room is deafening and when Denna’s tongue pokes out to wet her lips, it grazes Kahlan’s bottom lip so softly that she stops breathing.

"Constance." Denna acknowledges her at last and Kahlan can practically taste Denna's annoyance. The lack of appellation is a dig that's not lost on Kahlan and she prays to the creator that Constance won't get the chance to take it out on her later. She doesn't have a clue about the hierarchy in the Mord’Sith temple, the only thing she does know is that Denna takes shit from no one.

"Your services are not longer required. Leave us."

Kahlan waits for the other Mord'Sith to protest or unsheathe her Agiel, but then out of the corner of her eyes she makes out how Constance steps back and retreats through the door with nothing but a low growl. Her footsteps sound for a while longer and only when they fall silent, Kahlan exhales her relief in a shaky, hurried breath against Denna’s still wet lips.

"Lord Rahl will come and fetch you the day after tomorrow."

Just like that, the sweet relief turns bitter in her mouth.


Part V