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Title: Breaking a Curse, Mending a Heart
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Denna/Dennee (aka Dennea!)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,020
Written for: legendland's Writing Marathon
Prompt: Breaking a curse
Summary: A conflict leads Denna to the worst of fates; death by confession. But life has it's own ideas as to how this story ends. Denna and Dennee face certain struggles which lead them into life (and death) altering situations.
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I do not own these fabulous characters; they just like to do my bidding ;)
Dedicated to: adi_dion. Well, here it is DenDen, that "wallpaper" I told you about. Yep, it's finally done. It was meant to cheer you up but... well, you know what happens when I try to write... well, anything :P So get yourself some hot chocolate (or tea or COFFEE) and curl up to your computer and enjoy some Dennea goodness ;)





 “Of all the…” she choked as she spoke, “I never thought that you would be…” her voice quieted down to a whisper, “that you could betray me like this.”

                “I didn’t betray you.” The blonde Mord’Sith replied, straightening her back, attempting to hide the emotions she refused to be feeling.

                “Don’t even try to lie to me now.” She warned, her voice demanding, yet broken. She stepped closer to the Mord’Sith.

                “I’m not. Look into my eyes; you’ll see I’m not.” She softened her tone, almost allowing her emotions to escape her.

                “You know better than anyone that I can’t read you.” The woman in white responded a bit irritably. “If I could, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

                “Because one of us would be dead.” The Mord’Sith stated blankly.

                The other woman simply nodded without a word.

                “You know… I did it for you, for us.” The Mord’Sith admitted, in a whisper, at last.

                “As much as I’d like to believe that…” she sighed. “I don’t. You nearly cost me my son’s life.”

                “I know.” She stared directly into the other woman’s eyes. While her voice showed no sign of regret, her eyes almost delivered a hint of it. Any other woman might tear up right then and there, but she wasn’t any other woman; she was a Mistress of the Agiel.

                “I trust you understand what I’m going to have to do.” She stared straight back into her eyes.

                The woman in red leather did not answer.

                “Denna?” she waved a lazy hand in front of the Mord’Sith. “Did you hear me?”

                Denna’s eyes wandered a bit, avoiding the other woman’s stares, until finally, she answered. “I do. I understand.”

                “Good.” She faked a smile, and turned to leave. “At noon, then. Tomorrow.”

                Just as she was about to make her way to the door, Denna reached out and grabbed her arm. She turned her head slightly to look at her, waiting for whatever it was she was going to say. There was only one thing she wanted to hear more than anything, and although her mind knew it would never be said, her heart still wanted to believe.

                “Dennee…” Denna’s voice was unusually quiet, if Dennee didn’t know better, she would think the Mord’Sith was on the verge of tears. “I… I’m sorry.”

                In that moment, there was nothing the confessor wanted more than to wrap her arms around her and tell her she was forgiven, but she couldn’t. “Me too.” She whispered before leaving the room.

                Denna simply stared at the now closed door, gripping her agiels as tight as she could. There was nothing more embarrassing and weak than emotions. And Dennee had mastered the ability to make this Mord’Sith feel.

                Sleep never came to the confessor that night; her heart was far too broken. When the sun rose, the realization of what she would have to do hit her like lightning. She forced herself out of bed and over to the window. Staring at the sunrise, she could almost see her own reflection, burning in the orange sky.

After some time, Dennee managed to pull herself away from the window and dress herself. It was going to be a long day, worse than any nightmare she could ever have.

When she heard a knock on the door, her heart skipped a beat. Something deep down told her that it was Dennee, here to forgive her. But instead, she heard a deep manly voice calling for her to exit her chamber. The Mord’Sith was disappointed, and though she could easily knock out the guards and escape her fate, she walked out peacefully.

The guards attempted to grab hold of her arms, but she pushed them away, “I can walk on my own,” she hissed. They let her be as she walked next to them, head held high. If she was going to meet her fate, she would do it with pride.

They escorted her out to the town square. A crowd awaited her arrival, and in the instant they saw her, they began yelling things out to her about how she was a monster and deserved to die. Their remarks did not bother her. She knew what she was, and for that, she could never be ashamed. But when she saw Dennee standing in front of all, in her whitest dress, staring directly at her, Denna suddenly felt… something she could not describe.

Finally, she stood next to the confessor. She would have avoided looking at her, but nothing else was worth seeing in her final moments. Dennee made some sort of speech about the law and how this Mord’Sith had defied it in the most serious of ways, and that the only just punishment for her actions would be death by confession. The townspeople cheered; there was nothing greater than ridding the world of yet another monstrous concoction of the Lord Rahl.

Normally, the Mord’Sith in question would be chained down, to avoid any attempts of an escape, but this was not the case with Denna. One could argue it was a sign of respect, and that their time together had not been entirely in vain.

“Any last words?” Dennee asked the condemned.

She almost said no, but instead, a strange feeling rushed through her and she leaned in towards the confessor. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her eyes felt… wet. And so, she felt the need to force herself to say what was on her mind. She reached out a hand cautiously and put it behind the confessor’s head, pulling her towards her, her fingers entwining in the confessor’s long dark hair.

Gasps and quiet bickering travelled throughout the crowd as Dennee stared directly into the eyes of the woman who currently held her close. She did not struggle; she did not attempt to free herself, because deep down, a part of her still trusted this woman. Wondering, hopeful blue eyes stared directly into Denna’s sky blue eyes, awaiting the final words.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” she whispered, finally. “I… love you.”

The two stared at one another for what seemed like forever, until finally, Denna released the confessor from her grip.

I love you too was all she could think as she watched the Mord’Sith straighten her pose to hide her pain. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back, as she wrapped her hand around Denna’s neck.

Denna nodded ever so slightly, she kept her eyes wide open, even as a tear managed to escape. She wasn’t sure if she should be angry because she didn’t believe her, or… glad because the last face she would see before her death would be that of the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on.

Dennee’s eyes turned black and so did those of the Mord’Sith. When Dennee released the Mord’Sith from her grip, she struggled for a moment to maintain her position, feeling weak and dizzy and most of all… heartbroken.

Denna fell down to her knees and looked up at Dennee, “Command me confessor.” She begged.

It nearly killed her to see this strong, beautiful woman on her knees, begging. Dennee always knew that death by confession was the worst of deaths, but at this very moment, she finally understood why. It was humiliating and painful. Her heart ached, urging her to fall to her own knees and embrace her, to tell her she was forgiven, and most importantly… that she loved her too.

Numerous confessions of guilt spilled from Denna’s mouth, with pleads of forgiveness in between. The tears streamed down her eyes and her insufferable pain was evident.

Suddenly, Denna’s body began to shake and she cried out in agonizing pain. Dennee couldn’t help but fall down to her knees herself and try to make the shaking stop. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as the tears swam down her cheeks, “I’m so sorry.”

The shaking stopped, and everyone instantly fell into silence as they watched the Confessor embrace the Mord’Sith’s body. Dennee allowed a few tears to escape as she pulled Denna’s head closer to her chest, cradling and rocking her. The words “I’m sorry” left her lips again and again and again and…

“Mistress?” a wary voice was heard.

Dennee looked up in shock and then back down at Denna whose eyes were fluttering open.

“… Have I upset you, Mistress?” Denna asked weakly.

Dennee could not speak, she was utterly shocked. How was she… why wasn’t she dead?

“… Mistress?” Denna pleaded for an answer.

“Denna?” she responded in disbelief.

“Did I upset you?” Denna asked once again.

“No,” she moved a strand of hair away from the blonde woman’s eyes, “No, you didn’t upset me.”

“But… you’re crying…” Denna seemed genuinely concerned.

Dennee felt great discomfort in this strange behavior. Many had fallen victim to her power, but… she never imagined that… Mord’Sith weren’t supposed to survive the confessor’s touch… that was their punishment… their curse. And yet, somehow…

Dennee ordered one of the guards to help her lift the Mord’Sith and return her to her chambers. The crowd grew angry, shouting and even throwing things towards them. None of it mattered. There was something more important at hand. Denna.

Dennee spent the next few weeks searching the books for an explanation. It seemed, however, that this situation was a phenomenon to even the wisest of wizards.

Just when she was ready to give up, she came across a scroll which spoke of no other than the Seeker and her own sister.  Dennee sighed deeply, bracing herself for what she was about to read. The mere mention of her sister made her want to burst into tears, and now… She forced herself to endure it anyway, because she needed answers.

The scroll told of the powerful love that had developed between the Seeker and his Confessor and how her powers had no effect on him.

Her powers had not affected him... because he already loved her more than…

Spirits! Dennee thought. It couldn’t possibly be… but what other explanation was there? There wasn’t one. This had to be it…

Her mind wandered off to that fateful day, when she confessed her closest friend. She re-lived the pain of having thought she had murdered the woman she loved. She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall. And then she heard the words again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you… I… love you.”

Dennee sobbed as she remembered her face when she spoke those words. Why didn’t I just forgive her? Why did it have to come to this? She asked herself for the hundredth time.

It was no more than a day after the event that Dennee had realized… death would have been a far better outcome for the Mord’Sith. In being confessed, she lost everything about her that made her who she was… she had become… cursed. They both were. For it hurt Dennee more than a thousand hits from an agiel to see her groveling and weak.

“If this doesn’t work…” she whispered to her son, Edwin, “just know that I love you with all my heart.” She kissed the top of his sleeping head gently and then snuck out of the room quietly.

She leaned against the door after she had exited and looked up. “Merciful Creator,” she closed her eyes tightly as she prayed, “protect my child.”

She stood there for a moment, in an attempt to compose herself. She was completely torn. On one hand, she was afraid for her son, but on the other… she knew she would never be the mother he deserved if she didn’t take responsibility for her mistake.

Denna’s pleads before her confession should have been enough. Dennee should have seen that the truth had been spoken; she should have known that what Denna had done was for the greater good. But it wasn’t enough, she was blinded by fear.

And now, she had to make it right. She had to free Denna from this awful curse, regardless of the consequences it was sure to bring.

She entered Denna’s chambers and woke her from her sleep.

At first she seemed annoyed, but when she saw it was Dennee, she sprung up and smiled.

“How may I serve you, Mistress?” she asked eagerly.

Dennee held a finger up to her lips and whispered. “I need you to do something for me, but we must keep quiet so that the guards do not hear.”

Denna seemed confused but she nodded nevertheless. Dennee smiled in appreciation, though inside her heart was racing.

“I’m going to free you.” She whispered.

“Free me?” Denna asked curiously, “from what Mistress?”

“From me, from this curse.” She avoided her gaze. Every time Denna called her “Mistress” she felt a sharp pain in her chest. It wasn’t that the thought of being a Mord’Sith’s mistress wasn’t appealing, it was that… it wasn’t Denna, not the real Denna saying it and it just felt so wrong.

“I am free, Mistress.” Denna reached out to the confessor and cupped her face. “Free to serve you.” She smiled so brightly it made tears fall from Dennee’s eyes.

“Listen to me,” Dennee brought her hands up gently to pull Denna’s hands down. She held onto them and Denna’s eyes watered. “You’re not yourself, you deserve better than this. And you won’t be able to accept it or understand it until we break my hold on you.”

“But Mistress,” Denna’s lips trembled as she attempted to hold back the tears, “The only way to break a confessor’s hold on someone is to…”

Dennee nodded slightly, “I know, but it must be done.”

“But what if I don’t want to break it?” Denna asked hopefully.

“You don’t know what you want, Denna!” Dennee exclaimed a little too loudly. “I’m sorry,” she softened her tone and pulled the Mord’Sith into a comforting embrace. “I’m sorry; I know how hard this is for you. I’m sorry. It’ll be alright.” She held her close. It was probably the most comforting embrace she had ever experienced and it broke her heart to think it would be the last.

“All it takes is one shot,” Dennee explained calmly as they parted arms, “hold your agiel right here,” she touched the center of her chest to demonstrate, “until my heart stops. It’ll be over quickly, and then you’ll finally be free.”

“But Mistress –” Denna began to refute.

“No, listen. It has to be this way.” She brought her hands up to cup her victim’s face.

“Yes, Mistress.” Denna nodded sadly, clutching her agiel as she brought it up.

“And whatever happens,” she looked Denna directly in the eyes, tears escaping from her own. “Whatever the outcome, you cannot bring me back. Do not bring me back.”

“But Mistress—”

“Promise me.” She struggled as she spoke, failing to fight off the tears, “Promise me you won’t bring me back. This is the only way we can be free.”

Denna almost spoke, but she couldn’t find the words, the tears poured from her eyes like a waterfall.

“Promise me.” Dennee shook her a little.

“I promise.” Denna nodded sadly, her voice no louder than a whisper. “I promise.”

“Good.” Dennee nodded back, “I’m ready.”

Denna reluctantly pressed the agiel to Dennee’s chest and held it there. Her Mistress shook and cried, but she did not scream. Not once.

Soon, Dennee’s body fell back limply onto the ground.

Denna froze for a moment, staring down at the confessor’s dead body. A strange magic ran through her veins and when it was done, she knew she was free. She looked down at her own hands for a moment, not believing she was still alive, that she was herself again. Her eyes felt wet, so she wiped her face clear of the foreign tearstains. And as she looked around in disbelief, her eyes fell back to the dead confessor, and suddenly, a strange sensation came over her.

“What have I done?” she asked herself, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes.

Gently, she moved the confessor’s hair from her face, propped up her head and brought her own head down to hers, readying herself to deliver the breath of life.

“Do not bring me back.” She heard Dennee’s voice echo in her mind, but it wasn’t enough to make her stop, she had to bring her back. She just…

“Promise me you won’t bring me back. This is the only way we can be free.”

The words continued to echo and she almost pulled back but it was her decision to make, no one else’s. “I’m sorry Dennee, but you were wrong.” And with that, she opened her mouth to release a wispy breath into the confessor’s mouth.

Dennee’s eyes fluttered open as she gasped out for her renewed life. It took a moment for it all to clear up, but finally she saw the beautiful woman above her and she smiled.

“I thought I told you not to bring me back.” She would have chuckled, but she was too exhausted.

“I’m sorry, Mistress.” Denna teased.

Dennee’s smile fell for a moment.

“I’m kidding.” Denna smiled, “you know how bad I am at following orders.”

Dennee smiled again and raised a lazy fist to punch the Mord’Sith in the arm, but it didn’t quite reach where she had meant it to, and she grazed Denna’s breasts instead.

Denna smirked in return and helped the confessor up into a sitting position.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Denna asked, “that if the curse broke, there was no way I’d leave you like that… You knew I’d bring you back.”

“I hoped I would be right,” she smiled.

Despite herself, Denna wrapped her arms around the confessor and held her tight.

“Let’s just make a deal right here and now,” Denna spoke into Dennee’s long dark hair, “that we will never put each other through any of that ever again.” She chuckled a little.

“You have yourself a deal,” Dennee laughed a little herself.

“And Denna,” Dennee added.

“Yeah?” Denna hummed.

“I love you too.”

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