![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: We're a long way from home and home is a long way from us
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,510
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Triana, Cara/Dahlia, Richard/Kahlan, Berdine/Raina
Author’s notes: Betaed by the lovely, talented duo of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ivanolix and susurrusnight
Previous: Part 1
Next: Chapter 3
Summary: Cara discovers the truth about Dahlia. She takes it pretty well.
Cara woke up. No green flames. No naked people. Maybe she was with the Spirits. Then she saw Triana.
Yeah.
Cara feel a cool breeze on her skin and across her chest. She looked down to see that Triana had undone the lacing down her leathers' sides and pulled the front flap down. Bandages covered the wound. Blood had seeped all over her torso and leathers, but Triana was cleaning it away with a washcloth. As Cara watched, Berdine came in and set down a bowl of fresh water for Triana to use.
"Will she be all right?" the brunette asked.
Triana looked up at her. "She's Cara."
Berdine bowed respectfully and left.
"The breath of life," Cara said when the door shut.
If Triana was surprised by her being awake, she didn't show it. "Yes. We were wondering if it had worked for a little while. The wound was deep." She went back to cleaning off the dried blood.
"Rahl?" Cara asked.
"Which one?"
"Darken Rahl."
"He turned into green fire and teleported away."
"I hate when he does that." Cara looked up to see rafters, a lamp. "Where am I?"
"Hartland. Richard brought you here. He says this is the house of a healer." Triana looked around, indicating without indicating the jars of various things, the bowls of poultices, the leeches. "I have my doubts."
Cara finally gave in to the weakness, now that she'd proved she could still focus on duty. "And the woman I was fighting?"
"I was unable to end her life," Triana apologized.
"That's alright."
The washcloth was slipping lower, having already turned Cara's nipples from coal into diamonds.
"Let me make it up to you, mistress."
Cara shut her legs. "I can take care of myself, sister. That will be all."
Triana dropped the washcloth into its bowl with a petulant slap of water. "You could have any of us. Alina. Nyda. Rikka. It would let them know you're in charge. It's our way."
"Not mine." Cara relentlessly threaded her laces through their grommets. "I never chose to be a Mord'Sith. I was broken and put back together this way. And you glory in it? I look at you and all I feel is disgust."
The kiss was like touching an Agiel after a night without it. Such nostalgic pain. Cara had only gotten her leathers laced up one side and the flap fell open, exposing her left breast to the blunt force of Triana's hand. Triana had known her better than she knew herself now, and however her mind had changed, her body still hungered for that touch. Cara felt pure and unrepentant heat at her core.
"That doesn't taste like disgust," Triana sneered into Cara's mouth.
She pushed Triana back to arm's length with the point of her Agiel, keeping it on her as she did up her leathers. Triana licked the taste from her lips and glared boldly into Cara's eyes. Cara didn't have the will to discipline her. "Do you want your Agiel back?"
"My Agiel is yours," Triana pledged. "As always."
"Not always," Cara reminded her, cracking her own neck.
Triana looked satisfyingly queasy as Cara went downstairs.
The Mord'Sith were gathered in the deserted waiting room of the healer's lodge, lounging in various states of undress, patching each others' wounds. Berdine and Raina were testing how long either could take the pain of both their Agiels, trying to improve their fortitude.
"They say he was once a woods guide," Berdine said to Raina, but loud enough to be heard by everyone. From her tone, she was obviously talking about Richard.
"I can believe it," Raina replied, teeth clenched from the Agiels jammed under her armpits. "He acts more like a woods guide than the Lord Rahl."
"He may be a woods guide, but he's our woods guide," Cara said, coming down the stairs. The Mord'Sith went to something like attention. "And where is the man we're sworn to protect?"
"He wanted to be alone, mistress," Hally reported. "He and the Mother Confessor went to the graveyard."
Cara nodded. "Visiting his family. I'll collect them."
"Mistress?" Solvig asked her on the way out.
"Yes?"
"Did he kill them?"
Cara shut the door behind her.
***
Hartland. What the hell was she doing in Hartland? It was so bustling and charming and folksy. People couldn't just go about their business, they waved across streets at each other and said hello and she was pretty sure there were one or two casual hugs going on in the walkways. Of course Richard had been raised here. Their chief exports were understanding and smiles.
The graveyard at least had some somberness. Past an ivy-covered fence, there were rows and rows of graves, marked by plates laid in the ground with the dead's likeness carved into them, along with their name and messages from those they'd loved. It was easy to find Richard. Cara just followed the sound of him carving. She caught up with him and Kahlan walking on the path out of the graveyard, hand in hand, and followed behind at a safe distance. A shadow.
"I just can't help thinking that if I had been a better brother, maybe he would've believed me. Maybe he would still be alive," Richard said. His voice was full of the kind of self-pity that Cara had spent a lifetime not expressing.
"Michael took the word of a stranger over his own brother," Kahlan said gently. "That's his fault, not yours."
Richard squeezed her hand and they left the graveyard. The shade of the trees turned the atmosphere almost imperceptibly into romance. Cara stayed in the cemetery, resting her hands on the fence, watching them.
"He wanted me to go into politics with him, you know," Richard said. Kahlan was now tucked under his arm like a favored pet. "He thought it would be such an advantage to have someone he could trust at his side. He always thought I was wasting my potential being a woods guide, but I told him I didn’t have a head for politics. And now look at me. The Lord Rahl. I miss him, Kahlan. I miss him and my father. I miss having a family."
"You do have a family, Richard." Kahlan stopped and, in a patch of sunlight, they took each others' hands. "Zedd and Jennsen… and me." She sauntered closer, their bodies nearly meeting in a kind of intimacy that Cara could only glimpse, not describe. "And tell me, could any boy ask for a better big brother than Cara?"
"Ha! I suppose she is. But we hardly know each other. Have we ever even been under the same roof?"
Kahlan would brook no pessimism. "That's what the wedding will be for, won't it? Bringing families together."
Cara looked closely and saw the ring on Kahlan's fingers. It was bluntly obvious when Richard brought her hand up to kiss.
"One more thing to look forward to. Let's get back. We should check on Cara."
He started to go, but Kahlan held him close. "Richard, before we get married, there's something I must know."
"What is it, Kahlan?"
"When Zedd's magic split me apart, and you had all that time alone with a Kahlan with no power…"
"You're better."
"Of that I have no doubt. I was just wondering, how you went about it?"
Her smile was inquiring and his was answering. He put his hands on her hips and slowly dipped her to the ground. She went willingly.
"Well," Richard said, making a show of trying to remember, "first I laid her down gently…"
Kahlan twisted before her back hit grass, grabbing Richard so he was flipped off his feet and onto his back. Kahlan straddled him. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder and she demurely let it droop. The message was clear. She'd be the seducer this time. Cara could almost feel pride. "And then?"
"Well…"
How many babies were they trying to make? Cara left them to their memories, making them and reliving them. She hadn't watched as Richard and the other Kahlan made love either. She had just sat by the fire and thought of Leo.
And now, she did what she always did when life hammered the nails in.
She focused on the mission.
***
"What are you doing with that crossbow?"
Cara slid an arrow into the tiller. "I'm going to kill something." She gave Zedd a look like she might not mind it being him.
"Are you upset with me?" Zedd had the nerve to ask.
Cara buckled a quiver firmly to her hip. "I don't like being stopped from killing things. It diminishes me."
Zedd stood in her way when she went for the door. He laid it all out, step by step. She'd been in love. She'd been broken. She'd been a schoolteacher. Cara took it pretty well.
"Keep your senility to yourself, old man." She pushed past him.
In love with a Mord'Sith. It was ridiculous. And to imagine it happening twice, to each other? Maybe he should use that youth spell again.
***
The hot spring spewed from the side of the mountain, cooling as it ran down smooth rocks and featureless boulders until it dropped into a crevice, forming a natural pool which then overflowed down into a nearby river. Dahlia stood under the flowing water, letting it beat down on her back like a cat o’ nine tails, arms spread on the rock. It wouldn’t work. This wasn’t dirtiness she felt, but impurity. Like metal that hadn’t been fired hot enough in the forge. She’d been stone-cold in the mist, cold enough to fool even Darken Rahl, but couldn’t shake the feeling that Cara could see right through her, to the place where she held out hope.
As she turned her face up into the rushing water, she let her mind drift back. She’d hesitated. Pulled back from putting a blade in Cara's throat, where the breath of life couldn't help her. A shameful little voice within her kept insisting that Cara was the same caring child she'd grown up with.
"How's the water?"
She looked up. Cara stood on an outcropping of rock, aiming a crossbow so Dahlia could see the point of the bolt. Dahlia was unbelievably amused. She'd thought Darken Rahl had exaggerated in saying Cara was his best Mord'Sith.
"I thought you'd be taller," Dahlia said. "How'd you find me?"
"You always did like a warm bath," Cara replied calmly. Her eyes were tearing into Dahlia's face. "Tell me why, and do it quietly."
"Why what?"
Cara jerked her head toward Dahlia's red robes, lying on the side of the pool.
"I don't know," Dahlia said, her voice growing loud with anger. "Perhaps it has something to do with my best friend being twisted into something she wasn't. Or my family dying in a resistance attack. I was raised by the Sisters of the Light, those hags. Not one of my blood was even a soldier, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong--!" Dahlia calmed, sinking into the water up to her chin. "We have a duty to our children not to let any of them be born into the evil world, so none of them have to lose a father—"
"You need to be quiet. Right now." Cara's finger twitched on the trigger. "You're not the only one who's lost people."
"I'm the only one who's doing something about it."
"And that's why you serve Darken Rahl?"
Dahlia gathered her hair with her fingers, washing it out. She refused to think of Cara’s fingers brushing against her scalp. “I serve the Keeper."
“Rahl is worse. He used to be human once. Stay away from him. Serve the Keeper in some other way. You don't know Rahl like I do."
“Is that concern in your voice? He's not the one you have to worry about. It's his brother who wants to keep you tied to this torture chamber of a life, suffering through indignity after indignity. The Keeper will end this cycle of misery once and for all, taking us into the reunion of his loving embrace.”
Cara knelt down, putting them closer to eye level. "I've felt his loving embrace. It was a bit warmer than I care for. And there are people there who really should wear clothes."
"Am I one of them?" Dahlia asked. Spreading her arms, she let Cara see the breasts she meant to put an arrow through. They were pink and flushed from hot water.
“Are you trying to tempt me?”
“Why?” Dahlia asked, backing onto a slab of rock. She laid against it, offering herself to Cara's eyes. “Are you tempted?”
Cara didn't answer.
"To answer your question, the water's fine. Come on in…" Dahlia's toes brushed against the dacra she'd dropped at the bottom of the pool. She began inching it up the slab of rock, toward the fingers waiting behind her back. The water concealed it all from Cara's gaze, trained as it was on the rhythm of her lungs.
Cara leaned forward. It was hard to notice, but her leathers were soaked in blood. Dahlia felt a flush of guilt. “Are you not a little concerned that I’ll kill you?" Cara asked. "Or are you into that sort of thing?"
“You won’t kill me.” The dacra's metallic chill filled her palm. “You serve Richard Cypher. You think you're on the side of right and goodness."
"You'd be surprised."
Dahlia lined up her shot. Cara had taken her eye off the crossbow, let it droop in her hands. “Then maybe you just don’t have it in you.”
Her body ripped from the water, surging forward with the same energy she put into her throw. But instead of the familiar sensation of the dacra leaving her hand, she felt an arrow pierce through her palm and pin her hand to the rock. The dacra plopped into the water.
Cara calmly reloaded. "I didn't want to do that," she said, almost to herself. "I'll kill you if I have to, Dahlia."
"So why don't you!?" Dahlia demanded.
"I said I'd protect you, once. My new friends look poorly on liars." Cara walked away. Dahlia followed the golden ray of her hair, the brightest thing about her.
"We should go before the Keeper together, Cara! You're miserable all the time anyway! When was the last time you enjoyed yourself? When was the last time you were happy to be alive!?"
Cara left without answering.
Dahlia ripped her hand free of the arrow. "You're dead already," she said to the empty pool.
***
Cara could've let one of the Mord'Sith to do it, but she wanted something to be clean. She dug the sponge into the pail and attacked her leathers with soapy water, working her arm so hard the muscles stood out. And when the red was only that of the leather and not her blood, she washed it again. She didn't want a single trace left.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,510
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Triana, Cara/Dahlia, Richard/Kahlan, Berdine/Raina
Author’s notes: Betaed by the lovely, talented duo of
ivanolix and susurrusnight Previous: Part 1
Next: Chapter 3
Summary: Cara discovers the truth about Dahlia. She takes it pretty well.
Cara woke up. No green flames. No naked people. Maybe she was with the Spirits. Then she saw Triana.
Yeah.
Cara feel a cool breeze on her skin and across her chest. She looked down to see that Triana had undone the lacing down her leathers' sides and pulled the front flap down. Bandages covered the wound. Blood had seeped all over her torso and leathers, but Triana was cleaning it away with a washcloth. As Cara watched, Berdine came in and set down a bowl of fresh water for Triana to use.
"Will she be all right?" the brunette asked.
Triana looked up at her. "She's Cara."
Berdine bowed respectfully and left.
"The breath of life," Cara said when the door shut.
If Triana was surprised by her being awake, she didn't show it. "Yes. We were wondering if it had worked for a little while. The wound was deep." She went back to cleaning off the dried blood.
"Rahl?" Cara asked.
"Which one?"
"Darken Rahl."
"He turned into green fire and teleported away."
"I hate when he does that." Cara looked up to see rafters, a lamp. "Where am I?"
"Hartland. Richard brought you here. He says this is the house of a healer." Triana looked around, indicating without indicating the jars of various things, the bowls of poultices, the leeches. "I have my doubts."
Cara finally gave in to the weakness, now that she'd proved she could still focus on duty. "And the woman I was fighting?"
"I was unable to end her life," Triana apologized.
"That's alright."
The washcloth was slipping lower, having already turned Cara's nipples from coal into diamonds.
"Let me make it up to you, mistress."
Cara shut her legs. "I can take care of myself, sister. That will be all."
Triana dropped the washcloth into its bowl with a petulant slap of water. "You could have any of us. Alina. Nyda. Rikka. It would let them know you're in charge. It's our way."
"Not mine." Cara relentlessly threaded her laces through their grommets. "I never chose to be a Mord'Sith. I was broken and put back together this way. And you glory in it? I look at you and all I feel is disgust."
The kiss was like touching an Agiel after a night without it. Such nostalgic pain. Cara had only gotten her leathers laced up one side and the flap fell open, exposing her left breast to the blunt force of Triana's hand. Triana had known her better than she knew herself now, and however her mind had changed, her body still hungered for that touch. Cara felt pure and unrepentant heat at her core.
"That doesn't taste like disgust," Triana sneered into Cara's mouth.
She pushed Triana back to arm's length with the point of her Agiel, keeping it on her as she did up her leathers. Triana licked the taste from her lips and glared boldly into Cara's eyes. Cara didn't have the will to discipline her. "Do you want your Agiel back?"
"My Agiel is yours," Triana pledged. "As always."
"Not always," Cara reminded her, cracking her own neck.
Triana looked satisfyingly queasy as Cara went downstairs.
The Mord'Sith were gathered in the deserted waiting room of the healer's lodge, lounging in various states of undress, patching each others' wounds. Berdine and Raina were testing how long either could take the pain of both their Agiels, trying to improve their fortitude.
"They say he was once a woods guide," Berdine said to Raina, but loud enough to be heard by everyone. From her tone, she was obviously talking about Richard.
"I can believe it," Raina replied, teeth clenched from the Agiels jammed under her armpits. "He acts more like a woods guide than the Lord Rahl."
"He may be a woods guide, but he's our woods guide," Cara said, coming down the stairs. The Mord'Sith went to something like attention. "And where is the man we're sworn to protect?"
"He wanted to be alone, mistress," Hally reported. "He and the Mother Confessor went to the graveyard."
Cara nodded. "Visiting his family. I'll collect them."
"Mistress?" Solvig asked her on the way out.
"Yes?"
"Did he kill them?"
Cara shut the door behind her.
***
Hartland. What the hell was she doing in Hartland? It was so bustling and charming and folksy. People couldn't just go about their business, they waved across streets at each other and said hello and she was pretty sure there were one or two casual hugs going on in the walkways. Of course Richard had been raised here. Their chief exports were understanding and smiles.
The graveyard at least had some somberness. Past an ivy-covered fence, there were rows and rows of graves, marked by plates laid in the ground with the dead's likeness carved into them, along with their name and messages from those they'd loved. It was easy to find Richard. Cara just followed the sound of him carving. She caught up with him and Kahlan walking on the path out of the graveyard, hand in hand, and followed behind at a safe distance. A shadow.
"I just can't help thinking that if I had been a better brother, maybe he would've believed me. Maybe he would still be alive," Richard said. His voice was full of the kind of self-pity that Cara had spent a lifetime not expressing.
"Michael took the word of a stranger over his own brother," Kahlan said gently. "That's his fault, not yours."
Richard squeezed her hand and they left the graveyard. The shade of the trees turned the atmosphere almost imperceptibly into romance. Cara stayed in the cemetery, resting her hands on the fence, watching them.
"He wanted me to go into politics with him, you know," Richard said. Kahlan was now tucked under his arm like a favored pet. "He thought it would be such an advantage to have someone he could trust at his side. He always thought I was wasting my potential being a woods guide, but I told him I didn’t have a head for politics. And now look at me. The Lord Rahl. I miss him, Kahlan. I miss him and my father. I miss having a family."
"You do have a family, Richard." Kahlan stopped and, in a patch of sunlight, they took each others' hands. "Zedd and Jennsen… and me." She sauntered closer, their bodies nearly meeting in a kind of intimacy that Cara could only glimpse, not describe. "And tell me, could any boy ask for a better big brother than Cara?"
"Ha! I suppose she is. But we hardly know each other. Have we ever even been under the same roof?"
Kahlan would brook no pessimism. "That's what the wedding will be for, won't it? Bringing families together."
Cara looked closely and saw the ring on Kahlan's fingers. It was bluntly obvious when Richard brought her hand up to kiss.
"One more thing to look forward to. Let's get back. We should check on Cara."
He started to go, but Kahlan held him close. "Richard, before we get married, there's something I must know."
"What is it, Kahlan?"
"When Zedd's magic split me apart, and you had all that time alone with a Kahlan with no power…"
"You're better."
"Of that I have no doubt. I was just wondering, how you went about it?"
Her smile was inquiring and his was answering. He put his hands on her hips and slowly dipped her to the ground. She went willingly.
"Well," Richard said, making a show of trying to remember, "first I laid her down gently…"
Kahlan twisted before her back hit grass, grabbing Richard so he was flipped off his feet and onto his back. Kahlan straddled him. Her dress had slipped off one shoulder and she demurely let it droop. The message was clear. She'd be the seducer this time. Cara could almost feel pride. "And then?"
"Well…"
How many babies were they trying to make? Cara left them to their memories, making them and reliving them. She hadn't watched as Richard and the other Kahlan made love either. She had just sat by the fire and thought of Leo.
And now, she did what she always did when life hammered the nails in.
She focused on the mission.
***
"What are you doing with that crossbow?"
Cara slid an arrow into the tiller. "I'm going to kill something." She gave Zedd a look like she might not mind it being him.
"Are you upset with me?" Zedd had the nerve to ask.
Cara buckled a quiver firmly to her hip. "I don't like being stopped from killing things. It diminishes me."
Zedd stood in her way when she went for the door. He laid it all out, step by step. She'd been in love. She'd been broken. She'd been a schoolteacher. Cara took it pretty well.
"Keep your senility to yourself, old man." She pushed past him.
In love with a Mord'Sith. It was ridiculous. And to imagine it happening twice, to each other? Maybe he should use that youth spell again.
***
The hot spring spewed from the side of the mountain, cooling as it ran down smooth rocks and featureless boulders until it dropped into a crevice, forming a natural pool which then overflowed down into a nearby river. Dahlia stood under the flowing water, letting it beat down on her back like a cat o’ nine tails, arms spread on the rock. It wouldn’t work. This wasn’t dirtiness she felt, but impurity. Like metal that hadn’t been fired hot enough in the forge. She’d been stone-cold in the mist, cold enough to fool even Darken Rahl, but couldn’t shake the feeling that Cara could see right through her, to the place where she held out hope.
As she turned her face up into the rushing water, she let her mind drift back. She’d hesitated. Pulled back from putting a blade in Cara's throat, where the breath of life couldn't help her. A shameful little voice within her kept insisting that Cara was the same caring child she'd grown up with.
"How's the water?"
She looked up. Cara stood on an outcropping of rock, aiming a crossbow so Dahlia could see the point of the bolt. Dahlia was unbelievably amused. She'd thought Darken Rahl had exaggerated in saying Cara was his best Mord'Sith.
"I thought you'd be taller," Dahlia said. "How'd you find me?"
"You always did like a warm bath," Cara replied calmly. Her eyes were tearing into Dahlia's face. "Tell me why, and do it quietly."
"Why what?"
Cara jerked her head toward Dahlia's red robes, lying on the side of the pool.
"I don't know," Dahlia said, her voice growing loud with anger. "Perhaps it has something to do with my best friend being twisted into something she wasn't. Or my family dying in a resistance attack. I was raised by the Sisters of the Light, those hags. Not one of my blood was even a soldier, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong--!" Dahlia calmed, sinking into the water up to her chin. "We have a duty to our children not to let any of them be born into the evil world, so none of them have to lose a father—"
"You need to be quiet. Right now." Cara's finger twitched on the trigger. "You're not the only one who's lost people."
"I'm the only one who's doing something about it."
"And that's why you serve Darken Rahl?"
Dahlia gathered her hair with her fingers, washing it out. She refused to think of Cara’s fingers brushing against her scalp. “I serve the Keeper."
“Rahl is worse. He used to be human once. Stay away from him. Serve the Keeper in some other way. You don't know Rahl like I do."
“Is that concern in your voice? He's not the one you have to worry about. It's his brother who wants to keep you tied to this torture chamber of a life, suffering through indignity after indignity. The Keeper will end this cycle of misery once and for all, taking us into the reunion of his loving embrace.”
Cara knelt down, putting them closer to eye level. "I've felt his loving embrace. It was a bit warmer than I care for. And there are people there who really should wear clothes."
"Am I one of them?" Dahlia asked. Spreading her arms, she let Cara see the breasts she meant to put an arrow through. They were pink and flushed from hot water.
“Are you trying to tempt me?”
“Why?” Dahlia asked, backing onto a slab of rock. She laid against it, offering herself to Cara's eyes. “Are you tempted?”
Cara didn't answer.
"To answer your question, the water's fine. Come on in…" Dahlia's toes brushed against the dacra she'd dropped at the bottom of the pool. She began inching it up the slab of rock, toward the fingers waiting behind her back. The water concealed it all from Cara's gaze, trained as it was on the rhythm of her lungs.
Cara leaned forward. It was hard to notice, but her leathers were soaked in blood. Dahlia felt a flush of guilt. “Are you not a little concerned that I’ll kill you?" Cara asked. "Or are you into that sort of thing?"
“You won’t kill me.” The dacra's metallic chill filled her palm. “You serve Richard Cypher. You think you're on the side of right and goodness."
"You'd be surprised."
Dahlia lined up her shot. Cara had taken her eye off the crossbow, let it droop in her hands. “Then maybe you just don’t have it in you.”
Her body ripped from the water, surging forward with the same energy she put into her throw. But instead of the familiar sensation of the dacra leaving her hand, she felt an arrow pierce through her palm and pin her hand to the rock. The dacra plopped into the water.
Cara calmly reloaded. "I didn't want to do that," she said, almost to herself. "I'll kill you if I have to, Dahlia."
"So why don't you!?" Dahlia demanded.
"I said I'd protect you, once. My new friends look poorly on liars." Cara walked away. Dahlia followed the golden ray of her hair, the brightest thing about her.
"We should go before the Keeper together, Cara! You're miserable all the time anyway! When was the last time you enjoyed yourself? When was the last time you were happy to be alive!?"
Cara left without answering.
Dahlia ripped her hand free of the arrow. "You're dead already," she said to the empty pool.
***
Cara could've let one of the Mord'Sith to do it, but she wanted something to be clean. She dug the sponge into the pail and attacked her leathers with soapy water, working her arm so hard the muscles stood out. And when the red was only that of the leather and not her blood, she washed it again. She didn't want a single trace left.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-07-07 03:41 pm (UTC)"And tell me, could any boy ask for a better big brother than Cara?" This made me smile.
The Sisters of Dark propaganda that the Underworld is better than the World of the Living is so silly. Obviously none of them have visited it before.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-10 09:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-07 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-08 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-10 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-11 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-08 02:53 am (UTC)Add me to the list that doesn't want Cara to wind up with Triana. Triana would never be worthy of Cara. She's just too shallow to be capable of an epiphany and growth. As messed up as Dahlia is she's got lots of potential.
The Sisters of the Dark are as dumb as Dayhok followers in Xena WP. Then again there really have been death cults so some people really ARE that dumb. Still I wonder why the SOTD don't notice that some other clods WOULD be happy if they were left alone. And I notice while they throw thier lives away on dumb missions they don't tend to kill themselves to join thier Keeper. They just run around "euthanizing" the unwilling.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-10 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-05 10:24 pm (UTC)I wonder what will happen when the Mord Sith realize how different are things with Richard as their leader. They will have to give up a lot of their way of life or walk away.
I have to admit, in the end Dahlia managed to hurt Cara.