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Title: The Battle for the Midlands Took Place in Times Square
Pairing: Confessor/Mord’Sith (sort of)
Summary: Bridget’s friend informs her of a rather unusual event taking place in Times Square, and when Bridget goes to check it out, she is stunned by what she finds. Sorry if the story’s kinda cheesy, but my heart still hurts.
Spoilers: Up to the most recent, devastating news *sob*
Word Count: 2,871
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing belonging to Legend of the Seeker. It all belongs to ABC and Terry Goodkind, as far as I know.
A/N: RPF - You ever have one of those “what if?/I wish that…” thoughts/daydreams? This one came to me during work, and I thought it would be so totally kickass if it actually happened. Never will, but ah well.
PS: There’s a shout out to seven_3_oh in here – see if you can find it. There’s also an homage to the ancient game “Castle of the Winds.” If you can find that, uber-kudos to you.



The last thing Bridget wanted to do was answer the phone. She was depressed, and agitated, and even though she had been nonchalant in her Twitter post about “Seeker” being cancelled, she was completely heartbroken.


She sighed and looked at the caller ID; it was her best friend, besides Tabrett. Deciding she might as well at least partially join the land of the living instead of holing up in her apartment for the next few weeks – or years – she picked up the phone from where it sat on the table next to the couch.


“Yeah, Bridget?”

“Yes?” Who else would it be? Bridget thought, rolling her eyes in irritation.

“Um, you might want to turn on the TV.”


“Just…trust me. Turn on the news.”

Sighing again, Bridget reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, changing the channel to the local news station. “Why am I interested in a report about the economy?”

“No, no, read the scrolling bar at the bottom. Just wait for it.”

Bridget obliged, figuring that she might as well, as she had nothing better to do. Her eyes widened at the headline that followed the score of the latest Yankees game: “FULL-SCALE BATTLE CURRENTLY TAKING PLACE IN TIMES SQUARE TO PROTEST CANCELLING OF THE SHOW ‘LEGEND OF THE SEEKER.’”

“You see that?” Bridget’s friend asked, obviously watching the same channel. “…Hello?”

Bridget had already hung up, turned off the TV, and sprinted out the door, stopping just long enough to lock it behind her.

* * *

When Bridget reached Times Square, having jogged the whole way, her jaw dropped at the scene before her. In the open space of the square, D’Harans, Sisters of the Dark, Mord’Sith, Confessors, and many incarnations of Richard and Zedd were locked in a fight that could only be described as epic. A large screen had been set up at the edge of the “battlefield,” and a montage of fight scenes from the show was playing. Above the screen was a huge banner that read “SAVE LEGEND OF THE SEEKER.” Looking closer at the people on the battlefield, Bridget could see that the both the front and back of the D’Haran uniforms had “ABC” written in red fabric paint on them, and the back of the Confessors’ dresses had “SAVE THE SEEKER” written on them in silver.

The people dressed as Zedd were fighting the D’Haran’s with staves, obviously unable to cast Wizard’s Fire. The D’Harans, as well as the many Seekers, all fought with swords. The Confessors had their daggers, and the Sisters of the Dark even had their Dahkras and the Mord’Sith their Agiels. Upon closer inspection, Bridget was relieved to see that the weapons were all plastic, save for the staves and Agiels. The fan-warriors weren’t just fighting, either – they were staying true to the magic of the Midlands. Confessors were grabbing the throats of D’Harans, Sisters of the Dark, and Mord’Sith, and the Mord’Sith were running around giving the Breath of Life to the soldiers who had “fallen in battle.” There were police surrounding the whole spectacle, but they all looked as if they were still trying to decide whether or not to intervene or enjoy the show. Bridget could only gape.

She noticed that some of the D’Harans, Sisters of the Dark, and Mord’Sith were wearing red capes with “SAVE THE SEEKER” written on them in gold. Before she could ask a random bystander why, hoping they had some basic knowledge of the show, her question was answered by a nearby Confessor grabbing a D’Haran by the throat. He dropped to his knees as she held on for a split-second longer before letting go. The instant she did, the D’Haran got up and jogged over to a huge box that she hadn’t noticed before next to the person running the projector. When he returned, he had donned one of the capes, and had begun to fight a fellow D’Haran.

I guess the capes mean they’re Confessed, Bridget thought bemusedly, then jumped back with a yelp as the battle between a Confessor and a Mord’Sith appeared within five feet of her.

The Confessor was making wild swings at the Mord’Sith, who was stepping back and laughing mockingly. She easily sidestepped a one-handed swing and jabbed the Confessor in the shoulder with her Agiel. The Confessor cried out quite realistically as she fell. The Mord’Sith was just about to go in for a killing blow when the Confessor rolled out of the way, scrambling to her feet.

“It’s over, Confessor,” The Mord’Sith quoted, voice dripping with confident malice as the two women circled each other. “Darken Rahl will succeed, and all of you will die.” She had long brown hair pulled back in a French braid as a Mord’Sith would, and she was fairly tall. The Confessor never took her eyes off her, still circling. She was shorter, and had dirty-blonde hair that brushed her shoulders.

It’s like the opposite of Tab and me, Bridget thought, allowing herself a small, unexpected smile. She was brought back from her reminiscence of good times on the set when the blonde Confessor spoke.

“You will never succeed!” Her defiant voice rang out even in the midst of the sounds of battle. “The Seeker will find the Stone of Tears and the Keeper will be sealed in the Underworld forever!”

“Do you think that will stop us?” The Mord’Sith jeered. “We still serve Darken Rahl. Even if the Keeper fails, we will continue to raze the Midlands until your precious Seeker is dead and the line of Confessors is wiped out forever.” She smirked. “I always have wanted to see Aydindril. I think I’ll make a little stop once I’m done with you.”

For just being fans of the show, they’re pretty good actors, Bridget thought, impressed. When the two women flew at each other in a flurry of attacks and blocks, her eyebrows rose in surprise. Pretty good fighters, too.

The Confessor was knocked to the ground, the Mord’Sith standing over her with her foot on her chest. “Give my regards to the Keeper,” she laughed as she lifted the Agiel high over her head. But just as she was bringing it down, the Confessor, whose arms were still free, grabbed the other end of the weapon, her face contorting in false pain. She pulled hard on the Agiel, dragging the other girl down as she swung her free hand up and clasped in around the Mord’Sith’s throat.

Bridget half-expected to hear the sound of Confessor magic echoing throughout the square, she was that convinced; instead, she just watched the Mord'Sith’s eyes widen. As the leather-clad woman dropped to her knees, the Confessor struggled to her feet, not quite letting go (as she stood, Bridget saw that beneath the dress she was wearing jeans, as many of the other Sisters and Confessors were). When she did, the Mord’Sith slumped before her.

“Command me, Confessor,” she said in an impressively servile voice.

“You will fight for me, and you will fight for the Seeker,” The Confessor said firmly, looking the Mord’Sith dead in the eye.

“As you command, Mistress.”

After a moment of silence, both girls grinned and broke character. “You did that on purpose,” the Confessor said, taking the Mord’Sith’s hand and helping her to her feet.

“Of course I did; I refuse to fight for anyone but Kahlan and Cara – I mean, the Seeker.”

The Confessor rolled her eyes. “Go get a cape and meet me back here so we can kick some ass,” she said, smacking the girl on the arm.

“Yes, Mistress,” the Mord’Sith teased, saluting. She laughed as she evaded a jab from one of the Confessor’s daggers and jogged off to get a cape.

Bridget was still trying to process the series of events that had just taken place when her cell phone went off to the song “Primary,” by The Cure. It took a moment for her to break free of her shock and fumble through her purse to answer it.


“Surprise!” came a familiar Australian voice over the phone.

Bridget’s jaw dropped yet again. “…Craig?! Are you in New York?!”

“Yep!” the actor replied cheerfully. “I’m just leaving Penn Station. Do you have time to meet somewhere for lunch? I tried your home phone, but you weren’t there.”

“Actually, I’m in Times Square….”

“What’s happening in Times Square?”

“The battle for the fate of the Midlands,” Bridget replied as calmly as she could. There was a long, long pause on the other end of the phone.

“Be there in five,” Craig replied finally before immediately hanging up.

* * *

Bridget spotted him first as he skidded to a stop at the edge of the square, eyes widening and jaw dropping as Bridget’s had. “Craig!” Bridget yelled, waving her arms in the air. He looked around for the source of his name until he saw her and quickly ran over, giving her a brief hug.

“What the hell is going on?!?” he asked when he pulled away, totally dumbfounded.

“Apparently it’s to protest the cancelling of the show – look.” She pointed to the Mord’Sith, who had returned from retrieving a cape, and the Confessor in front of her, both of them taking down an “ABC” D’Haran. “The capes mean they’re Confessed,” Bridget explained. “And the Mord’Sith are running around giving people the Breath of Life.” More people had fallen since Bridget had arrived, and the Mord’Sith were having a hard time keeping up without leaving themselves vulnerable. “They’re actually a pretty talented bunch of fans.”

Craig stared at the brunette Mord’Sith and the blonde Confessor taking on three D’Harans. The daggers and Agiel flew through the air so fast that they were nearly a blur, and the exchange of blows was relentless. The girls had finally managed to take down the second D’Haran, but not before he stabbed the Confessor as best he could with a plastic sword. The Confessor doubled over in anguish as the Mord’Sith roared with anger, attacking the last D’Haran with maniacal fervor. The Confessor’s eyes closed as she collapsed, and she lay convincingly still.

The Mord’Sith made it past the D’Haran’s defenses and held the Agiel to his heart far longer than necessary. He jerked and screamed in agony as he fell. The instant his body hit the ground, the Mord’Sith knelt by the Confessor, rolling her towards her. She bent over and pretended to give her the Breath of Life – a little closer to her lips than perhaps needed. Bridget and Craig shot each other knowing, amused looks as the Confessor’s eyes fluttered open. It was the Mord’Sith’s turn to help her to her feet, and as she got up, the Confessor arched an eyebrow at her.

“You did that on purpose too,” she accused.

The Mord’Sith smirked. “Maybe.”

Craig and Bridget both chuckled, and that’s when Bridget noticed the problem: the police had finally decided that arresting the large group would be a better idea than letting them have at it. “Craig!” she gasped, grabbing his arm and pointing in the direction of the police. Going into Seeker-mode, Craig sprang into action.

“Whoa, guys!” he yelled, waving his arms as he ran into the battlefield. “Stop! Stop!”

When the fans/warriors saw who it was that was yelling, every single weapon dropped. The “dead” lifted their heads from the ground to see what was going on. Seeing the instant surrender, so to speak, Bridget cautiously walked up to stand beside Craig. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the eyes of the Mord’Sith and Confessor she’d been watching widen in stunned admiration.

“Look,” Craig began in a placating tone. “I know you’re upset about the show being cancelled – we are too.” There was assorted grumbling, and Craig lifted his hands higher for silence. “Honestly, though, I’m flattered and honored that you went through all this trouble to show your support for us in a very…unique way.” There was a shy shuffling of feet as the actor continued. “But even if the show doesn’t get back on the air, it still lives on in you guys. You’re the ones who make the fan sites, and compile the pictures, and write the fanfictions.”

“You’ve read those?” Bridget hissed in surprise.

Craig glanced at her briefly. “Of course I have.” Those who heard him snickered as he turned back to address the crowd again.

“Please, keep these sites open, and keep ‘Legend of the Seeker’ alive through those! As long as you keep supporting us, the show’s never really over, even if it’s not on TV.”

“You’re the ones who’ve kept us going as long as we have,” Bridget added. “We really owe it all to you.”

There was dead silence for a moment before the closest D’Haran spoke. “As the Seeker and the Mother Confessor command,” he said, putting his fist over his heart and dropping to one knee. The D’Harans mimicked the salute as everyone dropped to one knee, though there was some assorted snickering again. Bridget’s face flushed a bright pink and she took a step back to hide behind Craig. He laughed too.

After another moment, the “warriors” got up, the police warily left the scene, and most of the people who’d been watching continued on their way. Many of the fans started getting out of what costume pieces they could, but some cautiously approached Craig and Bridget. Among these fans were the Mord’Sith and the Confessor that’d shown superior fighting skills.

“That was impressive,” Craig said with a grin. The group that had assembled before him and Bridget grinned back sheepishly.

“Thanks,” a D’Haran said.

“We just wanted to get the message across that the show should continue,” a Sister of the Dark added.

“Well, you’ve certainly proven that the fans won’t go down without a fight.”

“Never,” replied a Zedd, smiling broadly.

“So where’d you two learn to fight like that?” Bridget was asking the Mord’Sith and Confessor as Craig spoke to the others. The girls blushed, looked at each other, and shrugged.

“Ren Faires for me,” the Mord’Sith replied.

“Acting class,” was the Confessor’s response. “We’ve never met each other until today.”

“Well, you’re pretty darn good,” Bridget said approvingly. The girls smiled shyly.

“Thanks,” the Mord’Sith said. “Hey, um, could we…?”

“Picture or autograph?” Bridget asked with a grin. The girls blushed deeper, but then all three of them laughed.

After autographs were signed (and Bridget answered the girls’ questions and fairly beamed with their praise), Bridget turned to talk to some other fans.

“Er, one last question?” The Mord’Sith said quickly.

Bridget couldn’t help but notice how the girl’s voice cracked, and she raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Er, I read in an interview that Tabrett’s birthday is in May, and that’s this month, and so…could you maybe pass on a ‘Happy Birthday’ from the two of us?” The girls were looking at her with a sort of desperate hope in their eyes, and Bridget didn’t need Confessor power to see that they were both head-over-heels for the blonde Australian (and, as she detected when signing autographs for them, a little bit for her).

Bridget couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, I’ll pass it on. Do you two have Twitter accounts?”

The girls nodded eagerly and wrote them down for Bridget. They said goodbye with the regretful understanding that many others wanted to meet her, and Bridget once again turned to talk to the other Midlands-dressed fans that had swarmed around her and Craig. She noticed, however, that even after most of the other fans had left, the Mord’Sith and Confessor were still standing off to the side locked in an animated conversation.

“So, can I expect this sort of welcome every time I visit New York?” Craig teased Bridget as they left the square and headed towards her favorite deli for a late lunch.

Bridget rolled her eyes and punched him playfully on her shoulder. “I think that was one of those things that happens once in a lifetime – one of Zedd’s lifetimes.”

Craig burst out laughing and slung his arms around Bridget’s shoulder. “Still, it was a damn cool thing to see.”

“That it was,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “That it was.”

* * *

Several days later, videos of the battle had surfaced on YouTube and gotten tens of thousands of hits. The New York Times ran a story about it, though it was a fairly small piece. Still, all of it made it back to the ABC executives, who took actions more seriously than words. Several days after that, the ecstatic screams of Bridget, Tabrett, Craig, and even Bruce joined those of fans across the country at ABC’s announcement that “Legend of the Seeker” would be coming back for a third season.

A week after that, the girls who had dressed as the Mord’Sith and Confessor who had spoken to Bridget received Tweets from the actress saying that Tabrett sent her thanks and greetings. As a celebration, the two went on their first date.

A month or two after that, the cast and crew were back in New Zealand, exchanging hugs of tearful happiness and gearing up for Season Three.


( 12 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 30th, 2010 06:39 am (UTC)
I - I love you. So when is this happening? *g*

poor ABC, though. D'Hara is definitely Tribune in this situation. ;)
Apr. 30th, 2010 06:57 am (UTC)
Aw, *blush* Thank you!

Ahaha, I so wish this actually WAS happening. I'd so get in there and fight my ass off.
Apr. 30th, 2010 07:48 am (UTC)
apparently Chuck is doing just that this year, while last year they bought sandwiches from the show's sponsors. We should learn from them!
Apr. 30th, 2010 02:11 pm (UTC)
Oh man, now we REALLY need to set this up!!!
Apr. 30th, 2010 07:29 am (UTC)
I don't know if a battle... But I really believe that a demonstration in Times Square could attract attention. LOL
Apr. 30th, 2010 02:12 pm (UTC)
Hehe, I dunno, a battle might really get the message across. xD
Apr. 30th, 2010 10:00 am (UTC)
OMG *fans self* I almost passed out from SQUEE!!! I declaire this prophocey!! (<
[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<which [...] okay)>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

OMG *fans self* I almost passed out from SQUEE!!! I declaire this prophocey!! (<<which i spelt wrong, okay)

This would be a totally cool thing to do!! If I was in the US I would totally be there! :P :D

<i>they were both head-over-heels for the blonde Australian (and, as she detected when signing autographs for them, a little bit for her)</i>

ISN"T EVERY GIRL IN THIS FANDOM??!! I think if i got the chance to meet either of them, I would faint ... because I'm cool like that!

I can not express the love I have for this story! + you for writing it!
Apr. 30th, 2010 02:08 pm (UTC)
Aww, thank you so much!!! Yeah, if I met either of them my voice would probably get all wavery and I wouldn't be able to stand up straight.

Wow, thank you thank you thank you!!!
(Deleted comment)
Apr. 30th, 2010 02:05 pm (UTC)
Tee hee, thank you much. :D I'd so be down for that too.
Apr. 30th, 2010 04:55 pm (UTC)
wow I wish..... :D
May. 25th, 2010 08:28 am (UTC)
omg that is a very interesting story!! Well done!
May. 25th, 2010 01:40 pm (UTC)
Thanks!!! I kinda want to organize this for real...
( 12 comments — Leave a comment )