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seriousficTitle: Conditioning
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,356
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Kahlan, references to Richard/Kahlan
Spoilers: Takes place during 2x11: Torn
Summary: You don’t think Kahlan wanted to stay just because of Richard, do you?
Cara stood on the outside of the camp, looking in. Richard and Kahlan had spent an hour in awkward togetherness, trying to find some comfortable physical intimacy while plagued with doubts. And Cara had watched while trying not to watch. Her eyes were drawn to the heartbreak of Kahlan’s disillusionment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be together, united, a seamless joining like that of weapon and wielder. Cara could understand the pain. She’d buried the last woman who’d made her feel that way.
Richard had said that something was wrong with Kahlan. Cara had unthinkingly gone to the Mother Confessor’s defense, pointing out that she had just lost her virginity. Richard had stumbled over his words, finally saying it would be best if they asked Zedd about Kahlan’s condition. It was a strange way to put it, Cara thought, a condition. It made her wonder what her own condition was.
Because despite everything, she couldn’t discount the possibility that she’d done something, made some mistake, that had given Kahlan the impression she was interested in Lord Rahl. It wasn’t as if it was an unprecedented duty for a Mord’Sith. Perhaps that was what friendship was: always caring if you hurt someone else.
The burden of Kahlan’s head on his shoulder became too much for Richard to bear. He excused himself, picking up his bow and leaving to find them dinner. Cara and Kahlan were left alone. It didn’t take long for the Mother Confessor to come to her, wringing her hands like some sort of otter.
“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said.
Cara nodded to her. “Accepted.”
Of course, that could never just be the end of it. Not when they could talk about their feelings
“I like you,” Kahlan confessed, squeezing her hands together like she could strangle them into stopping their fidgeting.
“And why wouldn’t you?”
Kahlan took a step closer, bringing them into that proximity Cara had learned to associate with either lovemaking or death threats. Her fingers were turning white. “You’re brave. And resilient. And you’ve changed so much from who you once were, into someone I—“
She took another step. Cara fought the urge to reach for her Agiel, or for Kahlan.
“I don’t just like you,” Kahlan said, lowering her gaze from Cara’s consternated expression. “I feel more than that. I don’t know what. I don’t know how I can feel these things for both you and Richard.”
Cara suddenly felt hollow, drained. She was never more acutely aware of the pain her Agiels gave her at all times. This wasn’t right. And yet…
“But,” Kahlan continued, looking up with gleaming eyes, “I may never get a chance to explore those feelings again, after Zedd ‘fixes’ me.” She used the word with such disdain that Cara suddenly wanted to defend her, promise she wouldn’t let anyone so much as touch her. But she couldn’t. She was frozen by Kahlan’s words, her nearness.
Kahlan reached up and touched Cara’s cheek, cured her of all the pain her Agiels had suddenly accrued. “Would you kiss me, Cara?”
“I…” Cara was at a loss for words. She was never at a loss for words. She closed her eyes, blocking out the vision of Kahlan. That made it easier to talk. “We shouldn’t. I might hurt you.”
“Then hurt me, Cara.” Her voice lowered. “Don’t you think I can take it?”
Something within Cara purred and growled in equal measure. Her eyes opened. Kahlan looked so lovely standing there, her dress a little disheveled from relaxing, her cuts not quite healed from the last battle. Cara gently took hold of Kahlan’s throat, then tightened her grip until she couldn’t escape. She forced their lips together, felt Kahlan stiffen with surprise, then go pliant with arousal. The Confessor’s hands drifted over to Cara and pulled her close.
Cara didn’t know how long she spent there, just exploring Kahlan’s mouth. She’d never really been kissed before. She knew that kisses were useful tools, that they could make men more amenable, that she could show dominance by forcing a sister to receive her lips. She didn’t know it could be like this, that there could be something shared, something between them that grew and bloomed and burned.
Kahlan cried out, leaping back. Cara backed away as well. Of course this would happen, of course, what should she have expected? She was lucky Kahlan was without her power, or she would’ve killed her on the spot. They didn’t belong in the same room together, much less the same bed, anyone could see that. All Cara could do was keep a neutral look on her face as Kahlan told Richard and together they lectured her on another way she wasn’t good enough to be on the side of right and virtue.
“Your Agiel,” Kahlan said, coming closer once again. Smiling a little. “It slipped.”
Cara looked down at where her Agiels hung from her belt. She took off her belt. Walked up to Kahlan, not sure what she would do, what she should do, when the Mother Confessor rushed up to her and kissed her impulsively. Her hands rounded the hips Cara’s Agiels had so recently adorned. Cara gasped softly as her ass was cupped by those same hands.
Kahlan smiled at the response. “I haven’t offended the fabled modesty of the Mord’Sith, have I?”
Cara smiled back at her. “Keep trying.”
Kahlan lowered her face to Cara’s exposed cleavage and began a campaign of biting and suckling, driving Cara wild. The Mord’Sith hurriedly worked at her gloves as Kahlan, her breathing hitched, scrambled for the laces at Cara’s bodice. Cara got her gloves off even as Kahlan ripped the garment open, burying her face in the valley of Cara’s breasts. Cara tangled her hands in Kahlan’s luxurious hair, didn’t even feel the need to pull on it. Kahlan got her teeth around one nipple, her fingers on the other. Cara felt herself shatter, whimper, as she was pleasured. Kahlan bore her to the ground and was kissing her again, her neck, her throat, her lips.
“Take me, Cara,” Kahlan pleaded, ordered, kneeling over Cara, her entire body heaving in anticipation.
Cara rolled over on top of her, dug her mouth into Kahlan’s neck. Kahlan gasped, panted, and Cara worked her hands under Kahlan’s skirt, past her underthings, into her core. Kahlan cried out, louder than when the Agiel had touched her, and Cara thought this was a much more pleasing way to break someone. She devoured Kahlan’s lips again, swallowing every stillborn moan until Kahlan’s screams were too loud to be denied. Cara felt her surrender, felt her gush, felt her pull their bodies together so her heartbeat ripped through Cara’s, her heat spilled over into her. “Richard!” Kahlan screamed, and Cara felt her arousal turn sour, turn cold. She backed away, lacing up her bodice before Kahlan had even caught her breath.
“I… I want you both,” Kahlan said when Cara stood over her, pulling on her gloves, sealing in her wet fingers.
“Not as much.” Cara reached past Kahlan and picked up her belt, secured it tightly around her waist. The Agiels brushed against her legs and filled the void with comfortable pain. “If you want to tell the Lord Rahl about this, tell him he’s welcome to his own table scraps.”
It was only a few days later that that Kahlan died and was reclaimed. Cara’s face didn’t betray a thing. Not her relief that Kahlan couldn’t remember any of it. Not her sorrow that Kahlan would never change. Not her hope that the look she had gotten from the other Kahlan, that look of appraising and challenge and contention, was the other half of something her Kahlan could never give her in full.
Cara stood on the outside of camp, looking in, as Richard and Kahlan and Zedd talked about the latest of their wondrous adventures. She didn’t look at Kahlan, she didn’t let herself think that they were supposed to be together, united, a seamless joining like that of weapon and wielder.
She knew what her condition was.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,356
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Kahlan, references to Richard/Kahlan
Spoilers: Takes place during 2x11: Torn
Summary: You don’t think Kahlan wanted to stay just because of Richard, do you?
Cara stood on the outside of the camp, looking in. Richard and Kahlan had spent an hour in awkward togetherness, trying to find some comfortable physical intimacy while plagued with doubts. And Cara had watched while trying not to watch. Her eyes were drawn to the heartbreak of Kahlan’s disillusionment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be together, united, a seamless joining like that of weapon and wielder. Cara could understand the pain. She’d buried the last woman who’d made her feel that way.
Richard had said that something was wrong with Kahlan. Cara had unthinkingly gone to the Mother Confessor’s defense, pointing out that she had just lost her virginity. Richard had stumbled over his words, finally saying it would be best if they asked Zedd about Kahlan’s condition. It was a strange way to put it, Cara thought, a condition. It made her wonder what her own condition was.
Because despite everything, she couldn’t discount the possibility that she’d done something, made some mistake, that had given Kahlan the impression she was interested in Lord Rahl. It wasn’t as if it was an unprecedented duty for a Mord’Sith. Perhaps that was what friendship was: always caring if you hurt someone else.
The burden of Kahlan’s head on his shoulder became too much for Richard to bear. He excused himself, picking up his bow and leaving to find them dinner. Cara and Kahlan were left alone. It didn’t take long for the Mother Confessor to come to her, wringing her hands like some sort of otter.
“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said.
Cara nodded to her. “Accepted.”
Of course, that could never just be the end of it. Not when they could talk about their feelings
“I like you,” Kahlan confessed, squeezing her hands together like she could strangle them into stopping their fidgeting.
“And why wouldn’t you?”
Kahlan took a step closer, bringing them into that proximity Cara had learned to associate with either lovemaking or death threats. Her fingers were turning white. “You’re brave. And resilient. And you’ve changed so much from who you once were, into someone I—“
She took another step. Cara fought the urge to reach for her Agiel, or for Kahlan.
“I don’t just like you,” Kahlan said, lowering her gaze from Cara’s consternated expression. “I feel more than that. I don’t know what. I don’t know how I can feel these things for both you and Richard.”
Cara suddenly felt hollow, drained. She was never more acutely aware of the pain her Agiels gave her at all times. This wasn’t right. And yet…
“But,” Kahlan continued, looking up with gleaming eyes, “I may never get a chance to explore those feelings again, after Zedd ‘fixes’ me.” She used the word with such disdain that Cara suddenly wanted to defend her, promise she wouldn’t let anyone so much as touch her. But she couldn’t. She was frozen by Kahlan’s words, her nearness.
Kahlan reached up and touched Cara’s cheek, cured her of all the pain her Agiels had suddenly accrued. “Would you kiss me, Cara?”
“I…” Cara was at a loss for words. She was never at a loss for words. She closed her eyes, blocking out the vision of Kahlan. That made it easier to talk. “We shouldn’t. I might hurt you.”
“Then hurt me, Cara.” Her voice lowered. “Don’t you think I can take it?”
Something within Cara purred and growled in equal measure. Her eyes opened. Kahlan looked so lovely standing there, her dress a little disheveled from relaxing, her cuts not quite healed from the last battle. Cara gently took hold of Kahlan’s throat, then tightened her grip until she couldn’t escape. She forced their lips together, felt Kahlan stiffen with surprise, then go pliant with arousal. The Confessor’s hands drifted over to Cara and pulled her close.
Cara didn’t know how long she spent there, just exploring Kahlan’s mouth. She’d never really been kissed before. She knew that kisses were useful tools, that they could make men more amenable, that she could show dominance by forcing a sister to receive her lips. She didn’t know it could be like this, that there could be something shared, something between them that grew and bloomed and burned.
Kahlan cried out, leaping back. Cara backed away as well. Of course this would happen, of course, what should she have expected? She was lucky Kahlan was without her power, or she would’ve killed her on the spot. They didn’t belong in the same room together, much less the same bed, anyone could see that. All Cara could do was keep a neutral look on her face as Kahlan told Richard and together they lectured her on another way she wasn’t good enough to be on the side of right and virtue.
“Your Agiel,” Kahlan said, coming closer once again. Smiling a little. “It slipped.”
Cara looked down at where her Agiels hung from her belt. She took off her belt. Walked up to Kahlan, not sure what she would do, what she should do, when the Mother Confessor rushed up to her and kissed her impulsively. Her hands rounded the hips Cara’s Agiels had so recently adorned. Cara gasped softly as her ass was cupped by those same hands.
Kahlan smiled at the response. “I haven’t offended the fabled modesty of the Mord’Sith, have I?”
Cara smiled back at her. “Keep trying.”
Kahlan lowered her face to Cara’s exposed cleavage and began a campaign of biting and suckling, driving Cara wild. The Mord’Sith hurriedly worked at her gloves as Kahlan, her breathing hitched, scrambled for the laces at Cara’s bodice. Cara got her gloves off even as Kahlan ripped the garment open, burying her face in the valley of Cara’s breasts. Cara tangled her hands in Kahlan’s luxurious hair, didn’t even feel the need to pull on it. Kahlan got her teeth around one nipple, her fingers on the other. Cara felt herself shatter, whimper, as she was pleasured. Kahlan bore her to the ground and was kissing her again, her neck, her throat, her lips.
“Take me, Cara,” Kahlan pleaded, ordered, kneeling over Cara, her entire body heaving in anticipation.
Cara rolled over on top of her, dug her mouth into Kahlan’s neck. Kahlan gasped, panted, and Cara worked her hands under Kahlan’s skirt, past her underthings, into her core. Kahlan cried out, louder than when the Agiel had touched her, and Cara thought this was a much more pleasing way to break someone. She devoured Kahlan’s lips again, swallowing every stillborn moan until Kahlan’s screams were too loud to be denied. Cara felt her surrender, felt her gush, felt her pull their bodies together so her heartbeat ripped through Cara’s, her heat spilled over into her. “Richard!” Kahlan screamed, and Cara felt her arousal turn sour, turn cold. She backed away, lacing up her bodice before Kahlan had even caught her breath.
“I… I want you both,” Kahlan said when Cara stood over her, pulling on her gloves, sealing in her wet fingers.
“Not as much.” Cara reached past Kahlan and picked up her belt, secured it tightly around her waist. The Agiels brushed against her legs and filled the void with comfortable pain. “If you want to tell the Lord Rahl about this, tell him he’s welcome to his own table scraps.”
It was only a few days later that that Kahlan died and was reclaimed. Cara’s face didn’t betray a thing. Not her relief that Kahlan couldn’t remember any of it. Not her sorrow that Kahlan would never change. Not her hope that the look she had gotten from the other Kahlan, that look of appraising and challenge and contention, was the other half of something her Kahlan could never give her in full.
Cara stood on the outside of camp, looking in, as Richard and Kahlan and Zedd talked about the latest of their wondrous adventures. She didn’t look at Kahlan, she didn’t let herself think that they were supposed to be together, united, a seamless joining like that of weapon and wielder.
She knew what her condition was.
