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seriousficTitle: Mord’Sith are always the big spoon.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,053
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan/Cara, mention of Richard/Kahlan
Author's note: Spoilers for 2x09 - Dark
Summary: Cara would like you to know this isn’t a fluff fic. It’s a hard-hitting story about loss, emotional pain, and spooning.
Cara never had any trouble getting to sleep. She never had, not after her father died. It never even occurred to her that someone might have difficulty stopping, like it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to lie down and close your eyes. Then one night she was awoken by Kahlan Amnell.
Cara’s eyes opened like blades being unsheathed. She’d heard a noise, and though Richard could know whether it was a harmless doe or a horse thief, Cara wasn’t Richard. Richard wasn’t there.
Sitting up, Cara grasped the reassuring pain of her Agiels. The disturbance was the sound of someone breathing, but hurt somehow. It reminded her of the sobbing slaves tended to indulge in when broken. For some reason, it bothered her now.
It took Cara a moment of raking through the moonlight to find that the sound was coming from Kahlan. The confessor was on the other side of the camp from the snoring Zedd, curled up in the hollow of a tree. The only sign she wasn’t asleep was the sobs that wracked her back. The hilt of the Sword of Truth stuck out over her shoulder.
Cara stared at the woman, wondering what to do. Kahlan would be embarrassed to be discovered at such weakness, and if she weren’t, she should be. But the crying was annoying, on many levels. And the Mother Confessor needed her sleep.
Perhaps she’d let Cara render her unconscious by way of Agiel. Mulling over how long that would take if Kahlan surrendered herself to the Agiel, Cara walked over and leaned against the tree trunk. “Are you hurt?”
Kahlan looked up. She hadn’t even noticed Cara’s approach. It was worse than the Mord’Sith had thought. Kahlan’s face was a mess of tears and red and puffiness. She looked like another woman. “No. I’m fine.”
Such a poor deception. Cara felt embarrassed on her behalf. “You could be sickly. One of my sisters once had the crying sickness. We had to put her down.”
Kahlan wiped at her face with a white sleeve. “I said I was fine. I just miss Richard. You won’t have to put me down.”
Cara nodded noncommittally. “Many Mord’Sith missed their families when they began their training. They no longer do.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Cara, I guess I wouldn’t make a very good Mord’Sith!” Kahlan turned on her side, away from Cara.
Cara turned on her heel to leave, but another choking sob from Kahlan brought her up short. What would Richard do if he was here? He would talk to her, most probably about feelings and… hugs.
Cara set herself firmly facing Kahlan, as if preparing for battle. “I think you would make a wonderful Mord’Sith.”
“Thanks.” Kahlan still wouldn’t look at her.
Cara didn’t leave. She scanned the perimeter, but found only leaves jostled by the wind. Cara wondered if Kahlan would find any of it pleasing, if she pointed it out. The stars, perhaps. Richard had once enthralled Kahlan by drawing a deer close enough to eat from her hand. Maybe if Cara killed one and brought back the carcass… that would also solve the problem of breakfast.
“Have a seat, please, I never meant to wake you,” Kahlan said abruptly. She was looking at Cara now. At least she’d stopped crying.
Cara sat down against a thick root. “You did.”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about Richard and…” Kahlan’s eyes staggered down to the sword she still clasped against her body. “And I thought he could be dead and I’d have no way of knowing.”
“If he were dead, my Agiel would die with him. I would bring it up.”
“I know that,” Kahlan said sharply. She tapped her forehead. “Up here. But in here.” She put her hand on her breast. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things I haven’t told him. Everything he might not know.”
Cara didn’t roll her eyes. “Kahlan, I know the way you feel about Richard. Me. I’m sure he’s caught on.”
Kahlan threw the Sword of Truth against the other side of the hollow like it was red-hot. “I want him back. I want him in my arms again! Do you understand that?”
Cara got up, passed Kahlan, and picked up the sword. “I know what it’s like to lose someone. You should be glad Richard is worth your tears.” She held the sword out to Kahlan, who took it.
“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
Cara watched Kahlan curl up again, like a bug waiting to die. She shouldn’t be seeing that. If Kahlan was fixed on disgracing herself, Cara should leave her to it. She wasn’t crying anymore. So why was Cara so sure she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep with tears in Kahlan’s eyes?
In the past, she would wake up sometimes to find Kahlan and Richard under the same blanket, another blanket between them to keep the Confessor’s power from traveling between them. They couldn’t have done anything fun—they weren’t that inventive—but Kahlan had always had a smile on those mornings.
The Lord Rahl had ordered Cara to protect Kahlan as if she were him. If Richard had asked Cara to comfort him in the way Kahlan couldn’t, Cara would obey–enthusiastically. This was no different. Just significantly less entertaining.
For a moment, Cara cursed Richard for ordering her to lay beside Kahlan like some urchin whining of nightmares. But she had her orders.
Cara unbuckled her belt and set it aside, making sure that her Agiels didn’t prod Kahlan during the night. Then she laid down behind Kahlan and put an arm around her, like she was executing a chokehold… only gentler.
Kahlan stiffened and Cara felt her muscles go taut. It was engrossing. “Cara, what are you doing?”
“Protecting you.” What was that thing Richard had done? Oh yes, he’d put a hand on Kahlan’s stomach. Cara emulated. It was a pleasant feel, but she couldn’t recommend it over more interesting bodily areas. “Don’t get excited.”
To Cara’s surprise, Kahlan laughed. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’d do this.”
“My armor isn’t too hard?” Cara asked.
“No. It’s perfect.” Kahlan relaxed against Cara.
Cara felt nice, being able to put Kahlan at ease like that. She knew Lord Rahl would be pleased.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,053
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan/Cara, mention of Richard/Kahlan
Author's note: Spoilers for 2x09 - Dark
Summary: Cara would like you to know this isn’t a fluff fic. It’s a hard-hitting story about loss, emotional pain, and spooning.
Cara never had any trouble getting to sleep. She never had, not after her father died. It never even occurred to her that someone might have difficulty stopping, like it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to lie down and close your eyes. Then one night she was awoken by Kahlan Amnell.
Cara’s eyes opened like blades being unsheathed. She’d heard a noise, and though Richard could know whether it was a harmless doe or a horse thief, Cara wasn’t Richard. Richard wasn’t there.
Sitting up, Cara grasped the reassuring pain of her Agiels. The disturbance was the sound of someone breathing, but hurt somehow. It reminded her of the sobbing slaves tended to indulge in when broken. For some reason, it bothered her now.
It took Cara a moment of raking through the moonlight to find that the sound was coming from Kahlan. The confessor was on the other side of the camp from the snoring Zedd, curled up in the hollow of a tree. The only sign she wasn’t asleep was the sobs that wracked her back. The hilt of the Sword of Truth stuck out over her shoulder.
Cara stared at the woman, wondering what to do. Kahlan would be embarrassed to be discovered at such weakness, and if she weren’t, she should be. But the crying was annoying, on many levels. And the Mother Confessor needed her sleep.
Perhaps she’d let Cara render her unconscious by way of Agiel. Mulling over how long that would take if Kahlan surrendered herself to the Agiel, Cara walked over and leaned against the tree trunk. “Are you hurt?”
Kahlan looked up. She hadn’t even noticed Cara’s approach. It was worse than the Mord’Sith had thought. Kahlan’s face was a mess of tears and red and puffiness. She looked like another woman. “No. I’m fine.”
Such a poor deception. Cara felt embarrassed on her behalf. “You could be sickly. One of my sisters once had the crying sickness. We had to put her down.”
Kahlan wiped at her face with a white sleeve. “I said I was fine. I just miss Richard. You won’t have to put me down.”
Cara nodded noncommittally. “Many Mord’Sith missed their families when they began their training. They no longer do.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Cara, I guess I wouldn’t make a very good Mord’Sith!” Kahlan turned on her side, away from Cara.
Cara turned on her heel to leave, but another choking sob from Kahlan brought her up short. What would Richard do if he was here? He would talk to her, most probably about feelings and… hugs.
Cara set herself firmly facing Kahlan, as if preparing for battle. “I think you would make a wonderful Mord’Sith.”
“Thanks.” Kahlan still wouldn’t look at her.
Cara didn’t leave. She scanned the perimeter, but found only leaves jostled by the wind. Cara wondered if Kahlan would find any of it pleasing, if she pointed it out. The stars, perhaps. Richard had once enthralled Kahlan by drawing a deer close enough to eat from her hand. Maybe if Cara killed one and brought back the carcass… that would also solve the problem of breakfast.
“Have a seat, please, I never meant to wake you,” Kahlan said abruptly. She was looking at Cara now. At least she’d stopped crying.
Cara sat down against a thick root. “You did.”
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about Richard and…” Kahlan’s eyes staggered down to the sword she still clasped against her body. “And I thought he could be dead and I’d have no way of knowing.”
“If he were dead, my Agiel would die with him. I would bring it up.”
“I know that,” Kahlan said sharply. She tapped her forehead. “Up here. But in here.” She put her hand on her breast. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things I haven’t told him. Everything he might not know.”
Cara didn’t roll her eyes. “Kahlan, I know the way you feel about Richard. Me. I’m sure he’s caught on.”
Kahlan threw the Sword of Truth against the other side of the hollow like it was red-hot. “I want him back. I want him in my arms again! Do you understand that?”
Cara got up, passed Kahlan, and picked up the sword. “I know what it’s like to lose someone. You should be glad Richard is worth your tears.” She held the sword out to Kahlan, who took it.
“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
Cara watched Kahlan curl up again, like a bug waiting to die. She shouldn’t be seeing that. If Kahlan was fixed on disgracing herself, Cara should leave her to it. She wasn’t crying anymore. So why was Cara so sure she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep with tears in Kahlan’s eyes?
In the past, she would wake up sometimes to find Kahlan and Richard under the same blanket, another blanket between them to keep the Confessor’s power from traveling between them. They couldn’t have done anything fun—they weren’t that inventive—but Kahlan had always had a smile on those mornings.
The Lord Rahl had ordered Cara to protect Kahlan as if she were him. If Richard had asked Cara to comfort him in the way Kahlan couldn’t, Cara would obey–enthusiastically. This was no different. Just significantly less entertaining.
For a moment, Cara cursed Richard for ordering her to lay beside Kahlan like some urchin whining of nightmares. But she had her orders.
Cara unbuckled her belt and set it aside, making sure that her Agiels didn’t prod Kahlan during the night. Then she laid down behind Kahlan and put an arm around her, like she was executing a chokehold… only gentler.
Kahlan stiffened and Cara felt her muscles go taut. It was engrossing. “Cara, what are you doing?”
“Protecting you.” What was that thing Richard had done? Oh yes, he’d put a hand on Kahlan’s stomach. Cara emulated. It was a pleasant feel, but she couldn’t recommend it over more interesting bodily areas. “Don’t get excited.”
To Cara’s surprise, Kahlan laughed. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’d do this.”
“My armor isn’t too hard?” Cara asked.
“No. It’s perfect.” Kahlan relaxed against Cara.
Cara felt nice, being able to put Kahlan at ease like that. She knew Lord Rahl would be pleased.
