![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Choose me
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,442
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Kahlan, Richard/Kahlan
Next: Part 2
Summary: With the Keeper defeated, Kahlan can finally enjoy a life together with Richard. But what part does Cara play in that life?
"Oh," Kahlan said. It was all she could say. She was sore all over, almost bruised, but it had nothing to do with defeating the Keeper. Richard laid over her, just as exhausted, still trying to kiss her but so tired that his lips just met her throat and felt the vibration of her still-racing pulse.
For a few minutes, they'd been romantic. Richard had been as caring and gentle as ever, constantly telling her how beautiful she was, forcing his hands to remove each stitch of clothing like it was a rose petal, laying her down on the bed like she was an infant. By the time he'd gotten around to deflowering her, it had almost driven her insane, but she'd been nervous enough herself to appreciate his restraint.
"Kahlan," he'd said, awestruck, when they were actually naked together, no spells or doppelgangers or Zedd hanging over them. "Finally."
"Finally," she'd agreed, laughing as she rolled on top of him.
The romantic mood hadn't lasted long after that. As if the year of blocked intimacy and separation hadn't been enough, there'd been the days spent traveling away from the Pillars of Creation, knowing they could be together but having to be on guard for Darken Rahl's forces, and mindful of Zedd and Cara's company. There'd been the temptation to just have it done with, but Richard insisted their first time would only be in a soft bed after a warm bath, and took the watch before Kahlan's so they didn't spend their nights together.
Left alone to commiserate with Cara, the Mord'Sith had been caustically, if hilariously, sympathetic. "Give me five minutes and the Seeker will be begging to share his night with you."
"I thought you were sworn to protect the Lord Rahl."
"And continue the Rahl bloodline," Cara had reminded her.
Then there was their final arrival, a large city that had been plagued by Banelings for months, forced to watch their doom in a rift just a league from their walls. They were in a celebratory mood, and though Cara generously offered to clear a path, Kahlan took Richard's hand in hers and put up with a constant stream of well-wishers, celebrators, and the increasingly-inebriated. Finally, they were shown to their rooms. The closets were as large as the rooms in the nice, quiet inn Richard had wanted to stop at before their evening had been hijacked.
Zedd had automatically gone for the door to the room next to theirs when Cara took his arm and kept him walking. When Richard and Kahlan left them, Cara was still explaining to the innkeeper the consequences if they should be interrupted for any reason.
They'd looked at each other for a moment, and kissed. Simple as that. A moment was all it took to figure that they still weren't ready. Too much anxiety still swirling from the victory and the party. Richard had checked the room for traps, spyholes, and secret doors while Kahlan had bathed. She could've spent hours just letting the tension ooze from her muscles, but there'd been a tenseness in her loins that just couldn't go away.
"Richard," she'd said, and there he was, like his ears were attuned to even her softest whisper. She'd looked back at him over her shoulder, like just after they'd first met, when he was just a simple woods guide and she was one of numerous Confessors, a boy stumbling across a girl bathing in the woods. "Wash my back?"
She'd felt a little like Cara, having that much power over a man.
He'd exercised all the restraint he'd learned in their travels – it was five minutes before the soap slipping over her body became a hand dipping under the water. Kahlan had felt her power like blood pounding in her ears, only everywhere—behind her eyes, in the pit of her stomach, between her toes. It'd seemed like when she lost control this time, the whole world would be confessed, but she'd forced herself to let it happen. As his fingers probed insistently and she clung to him, feeling a body of hard muscle and rough stubble so unlike her sisters, it had happened.
It hadn't been like when Kahlan had brought herself off with her fingers, those brief interludes when she thought only an orgasm could keep her from damning the consequences and going to Richard in the night. This was like the Con Dar. Formless, pure, overwhelming. She'd thought the water might've boiled. But when she'd come back to herself, Richard was still holding her (probably the only thing that was keeping her from drowning), looking at her with love in his eyes that was all his own.
"It worked," Richard had said, his own lust forgotten in the happiness he shared with her.
Kahlan had kissed him until her lips faintly jangled with pain where an old cut had reopened, but managed to keep from dragging him into the bath with her. "The water's getting cold. I'll fetch some more. Shut your eyes."
Richard had stared at her, horrorstruck. "Kahlan," he'd begged.
"It was your idea to wait until we'd had a warm bath and a soft bed."
He'd forced his eyes shut. Kahlan wiped her mouth and kissed him again before getting out of the bath. She'd watched him stiffen as she toweled herself off and dressed. Cara had been right. She would have made a good Mord'Sith.
Richard's eyes were still closed when she'd brought a pitcher of boiling water to reheat the bath. She'd dropped a bar of soap into his hands. "I'll be on the soft bed when you're done."
Everything after that was too good to be true, but true anyway. After the gentle pain of her deflowering, Richard had held her for a moment, listening to her heart beat against his, just making himself believe that this wasn't a trick or a hallucination or a lie. Kahlan had put her lips to his ear and whispered a few things Cara had said to her the night before. It'd convinced him. He'd pinned her hands to the headboard and if Kahlan had ordered a Confessed man to fuck her as hard as he could, it wouldn't have held a candle to what Richard did to her.
And now, there they were. It felt like hours later, but was still dark out. Kahlan could've checked the candles, but they were guttering anyway. She eased Richard's weight to the side, letting him slip into a happy daze on the next pillow over, and positioned herself as comfortably as she could with what energy was left to her. Looking over at Richard as he slowly faded, his wide smile dying down to a content grin, Kahlan thought about the future.
There'd be more sex, definitely. In the morning, she'd want flowers and music, all the things that were supposed to go with lovemaking in the fairy tales. She wanted more than that. She wanted everything a man could do to a woman, every single thing she might've missed out on. She wanted children, and a wedding, and a shared old age. She wanted…
Something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't that something was missing, more like she'd forgotten something, and if she could just get that one thing set, everything would be perfect. But then, Kahlan told herself as she went to sleep, nothing was ever perfect.
And outside, Cara stood watch, as she had through the night and as she would until morning, making sure Kahlan was safe in her happiness.
***
Kahlan woke up slowly. It was a relief, just being able to lie in bed, warm and safe, and let her dreams genteelly slip out the door. To have dreams that weren't dominated by the underworld and D'Hara. Turning onto her side, she saw the rise and fall of Richard's chest. She ran a hand over it, ignoring the small cuts to focus on where Darken Rahl's mark was now gone forever. The night before, she'd visited him into the bath to massage some of the tension from his shoulders and trim his hair, and now, seeing him cleaned and softened, he was more desirable than ever. Giving in to desires that had lain dormant for months, Kahlan dipped her hand under the sheets that covered them.
Richard came awake with his manhood, surprised, then pleased, settling back on his pillow with an endearingly self-satisfied smirk. "Good morning yourself."
"I'm glad to see you up this early," Kahlan joked, laying her head down on his chest, seeing how long she could keep at him until he ravished her. "You know, Cara's been with two men at once."
Richard's face quirked with the mental image. "Good for Cara… not so good for pillow talk."
Kahlan gave him a little squeeze. "I was just wondering if you'd like something like that. Two women at the same time. Me and someone else. Touching each other. Fucking each other. Fucking you."
Kahlan felt a bolt go through Richard's cock. Impressively, he tried to keep his face even. "Is this about me and Anna?"
"It can be. About you, and me, and Anna."
Richard closed his eyes and tried to think. "You think Cara would be up for it?" he asked, unaware of the double entendre.
"Definitely," Kahlan said, leaning down to lick his nipple.
That was all Richard could take. He went after Kahlan so fast that they ended up on the floor, and stayed there a nice long while.
***
The celebration was still raging outside, not that you could tell by looking at Cara. She had staked a claim in a dark corner of the inn and was killing a bottle of port by inches. Kahlan dropped into the chair opposite her, so unable to stifle her cheerfulness that Cara rolled her eyes. "Don't you have someone better to do?"
Kahlan signaled for a waiter. "We're taking a break. Even people in love need to eat."
"I wouldn't know."
Kahlan's waving gave a man the courage to approach a Mord'Sith. He set down a menu. "Anything to drink?"
"Wine," Kahlan said, crossing her arms. She hadn't bothered to dress in all the Confessor's raiment, and her nipples poked through her dress. "And get my friend whatever she wants."
Cara sniffed disdainfully at how Kahlan had referred to her. The waiter beat a hasty retreat.
"Would you prefer I call you something else?"
"Mistress Cara would be fine," Cara replied softly. Without her customary sarcasm, the barb came off even more wicked. Kahlan almost asked her what was wrong, but didn't. She wouldn't get a straight answer anyway, and Cara was probably just sour at the prospect of having nothing to defend Richard from in the coming years but gaggles of children.
"Mistress Cara," Kahlan said, mock-seriously. "You know, you'd probably attract more company if you got out of those leathers."
Cara did that Mord'Sith pout of hers (Kahlan knew she'd hate it if she ever found out Kahlan thought of it that way). "I don't 'get out' of my leathers any more than you get out of your skin.
"Mmm. Come closer. I want to ask you something."
Cara grudgingly leaned across the table. "What is it, Confessor?"
In the dark of the inn and the din of the crowd, Kahlan kissed her. She had expected shock on Cara's part, maybe even indignation, but not this. Cara moaned contentedly against her lips and ran a hand over her face like a jeweler admiring the cut of a diamond. Kahlan was so surprised that she yielded to Cara's passion. There was all the intensity she'd felt with Richard, maybe more. An eternity of longing, yearning, needing, locked down tight enough to never surface but suddenly given license to run free. Then something Kahlan did gave Cara pause. She pulled away, suddenly fixing Kahlan with all the wariness and suspicion she usually kept hooded. "Why did you do that?"
Kahlan had been drunk on Richard and hers new intimacy. This sobered her. "I," she stammered, "I thought you might like to join us."
Cara took her meaning instantly. "As a plaything?"
"No! Not like that at all! As a—as you!"
"Really. Would you tell me how beautiful I am? Would you bring me flowers? Would you dance with me?"
Kahlan forced herself to meet Cara's glare. The Mord'Sith was angry, obviously, but there was something else in her eyes… something hurt and squandered. "I didn't know you wanted those things." From me, she didn't add.
Cara raised her voice, the sorrow disappearing into rage. "I wanted you to want them for me!"
"I didn't even know you had feelings for me." Kahlan pleaded.
"Yes. You didn't think about my feelings at all." Cara rose. Kahlan could see anger flashing once more in her eyes, then die, as Cara pulled deep inside herself, burying every trace of emotion under a Mord'Sith mask. "It was easier when you didn't want me at all, but now you taunt me with this. With yourself."
Easier. Like it'd been easier for Kahlan when she and Richard didn't talk about their feelings, pretended they were nothing more than friends because that was all they could be. Only it hadn't been easy. It'd been hurtful and foolish and she'd never missed out on one of the best parts of her life.
And Cara felt the same way.
Kahlan reached for her. She had it in the back of her mind that if she could just take Cara's hand like she had in the tomb, she could make Cara feel just how much she truly valued her. She'd thought that Cara would want no complications, but in reducing her to a sex object, Kahlan had devalued their friendship to just the services Cara could provide, fighting and fucking, when all Kahlan had wanted was to share some of the happiness she'd found with Richard. But she'd been so caught up in pleasing Richard that she'd forgotten Cara was more than the façade she presented to the world.
Cara took her hand and twisted it painfully at the wrist. "Don't talk to me again. I won't be needing any more of your lessons on social etiquette." She threw Kahlan's hand aside, but couldn't tear herself away from her. They stood there like two weights plummeting at the same speed. When Cara spoke, it was as a woman stripped bare. Even her sarcasm had left her. "Do you know how the Mord'Sith know someone is broken? It's not when they swear fealty. It's when they believe we love them."
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,442
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Kahlan, Richard/Kahlan
Next: Part 2
Summary: With the Keeper defeated, Kahlan can finally enjoy a life together with Richard. But what part does Cara play in that life?
"Oh," Kahlan said. It was all she could say. She was sore all over, almost bruised, but it had nothing to do with defeating the Keeper. Richard laid over her, just as exhausted, still trying to kiss her but so tired that his lips just met her throat and felt the vibration of her still-racing pulse.
For a few minutes, they'd been romantic. Richard had been as caring and gentle as ever, constantly telling her how beautiful she was, forcing his hands to remove each stitch of clothing like it was a rose petal, laying her down on the bed like she was an infant. By the time he'd gotten around to deflowering her, it had almost driven her insane, but she'd been nervous enough herself to appreciate his restraint.
"Kahlan," he'd said, awestruck, when they were actually naked together, no spells or doppelgangers or Zedd hanging over them. "Finally."
"Finally," she'd agreed, laughing as she rolled on top of him.
The romantic mood hadn't lasted long after that. As if the year of blocked intimacy and separation hadn't been enough, there'd been the days spent traveling away from the Pillars of Creation, knowing they could be together but having to be on guard for Darken Rahl's forces, and mindful of Zedd and Cara's company. There'd been the temptation to just have it done with, but Richard insisted their first time would only be in a soft bed after a warm bath, and took the watch before Kahlan's so they didn't spend their nights together.
Left alone to commiserate with Cara, the Mord'Sith had been caustically, if hilariously, sympathetic. "Give me five minutes and the Seeker will be begging to share his night with you."
"I thought you were sworn to protect the Lord Rahl."
"And continue the Rahl bloodline," Cara had reminded her.
Then there was their final arrival, a large city that had been plagued by Banelings for months, forced to watch their doom in a rift just a league from their walls. They were in a celebratory mood, and though Cara generously offered to clear a path, Kahlan took Richard's hand in hers and put up with a constant stream of well-wishers, celebrators, and the increasingly-inebriated. Finally, they were shown to their rooms. The closets were as large as the rooms in the nice, quiet inn Richard had wanted to stop at before their evening had been hijacked.
Zedd had automatically gone for the door to the room next to theirs when Cara took his arm and kept him walking. When Richard and Kahlan left them, Cara was still explaining to the innkeeper the consequences if they should be interrupted for any reason.
They'd looked at each other for a moment, and kissed. Simple as that. A moment was all it took to figure that they still weren't ready. Too much anxiety still swirling from the victory and the party. Richard had checked the room for traps, spyholes, and secret doors while Kahlan had bathed. She could've spent hours just letting the tension ooze from her muscles, but there'd been a tenseness in her loins that just couldn't go away.
"Richard," she'd said, and there he was, like his ears were attuned to even her softest whisper. She'd looked back at him over her shoulder, like just after they'd first met, when he was just a simple woods guide and she was one of numerous Confessors, a boy stumbling across a girl bathing in the woods. "Wash my back?"
She'd felt a little like Cara, having that much power over a man.
He'd exercised all the restraint he'd learned in their travels – it was five minutes before the soap slipping over her body became a hand dipping under the water. Kahlan had felt her power like blood pounding in her ears, only everywhere—behind her eyes, in the pit of her stomach, between her toes. It'd seemed like when she lost control this time, the whole world would be confessed, but she'd forced herself to let it happen. As his fingers probed insistently and she clung to him, feeling a body of hard muscle and rough stubble so unlike her sisters, it had happened.
It hadn't been like when Kahlan had brought herself off with her fingers, those brief interludes when she thought only an orgasm could keep her from damning the consequences and going to Richard in the night. This was like the Con Dar. Formless, pure, overwhelming. She'd thought the water might've boiled. But when she'd come back to herself, Richard was still holding her (probably the only thing that was keeping her from drowning), looking at her with love in his eyes that was all his own.
"It worked," Richard had said, his own lust forgotten in the happiness he shared with her.
Kahlan had kissed him until her lips faintly jangled with pain where an old cut had reopened, but managed to keep from dragging him into the bath with her. "The water's getting cold. I'll fetch some more. Shut your eyes."
Richard had stared at her, horrorstruck. "Kahlan," he'd begged.
"It was your idea to wait until we'd had a warm bath and a soft bed."
He'd forced his eyes shut. Kahlan wiped her mouth and kissed him again before getting out of the bath. She'd watched him stiffen as she toweled herself off and dressed. Cara had been right. She would have made a good Mord'Sith.
Richard's eyes were still closed when she'd brought a pitcher of boiling water to reheat the bath. She'd dropped a bar of soap into his hands. "I'll be on the soft bed when you're done."
Everything after that was too good to be true, but true anyway. After the gentle pain of her deflowering, Richard had held her for a moment, listening to her heart beat against his, just making himself believe that this wasn't a trick or a hallucination or a lie. Kahlan had put her lips to his ear and whispered a few things Cara had said to her the night before. It'd convinced him. He'd pinned her hands to the headboard and if Kahlan had ordered a Confessed man to fuck her as hard as he could, it wouldn't have held a candle to what Richard did to her.
And now, there they were. It felt like hours later, but was still dark out. Kahlan could've checked the candles, but they were guttering anyway. She eased Richard's weight to the side, letting him slip into a happy daze on the next pillow over, and positioned herself as comfortably as she could with what energy was left to her. Looking over at Richard as he slowly faded, his wide smile dying down to a content grin, Kahlan thought about the future.
There'd be more sex, definitely. In the morning, she'd want flowers and music, all the things that were supposed to go with lovemaking in the fairy tales. She wanted more than that. She wanted everything a man could do to a woman, every single thing she might've missed out on. She wanted children, and a wedding, and a shared old age. She wanted…
Something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't that something was missing, more like she'd forgotten something, and if she could just get that one thing set, everything would be perfect. But then, Kahlan told herself as she went to sleep, nothing was ever perfect.
And outside, Cara stood watch, as she had through the night and as she would until morning, making sure Kahlan was safe in her happiness.
***
Kahlan woke up slowly. It was a relief, just being able to lie in bed, warm and safe, and let her dreams genteelly slip out the door. To have dreams that weren't dominated by the underworld and D'Hara. Turning onto her side, she saw the rise and fall of Richard's chest. She ran a hand over it, ignoring the small cuts to focus on where Darken Rahl's mark was now gone forever. The night before, she'd visited him into the bath to massage some of the tension from his shoulders and trim his hair, and now, seeing him cleaned and softened, he was more desirable than ever. Giving in to desires that had lain dormant for months, Kahlan dipped her hand under the sheets that covered them.
Richard came awake with his manhood, surprised, then pleased, settling back on his pillow with an endearingly self-satisfied smirk. "Good morning yourself."
"I'm glad to see you up this early," Kahlan joked, laying her head down on his chest, seeing how long she could keep at him until he ravished her. "You know, Cara's been with two men at once."
Richard's face quirked with the mental image. "Good for Cara… not so good for pillow talk."
Kahlan gave him a little squeeze. "I was just wondering if you'd like something like that. Two women at the same time. Me and someone else. Touching each other. Fucking each other. Fucking you."
Kahlan felt a bolt go through Richard's cock. Impressively, he tried to keep his face even. "Is this about me and Anna?"
"It can be. About you, and me, and Anna."
Richard closed his eyes and tried to think. "You think Cara would be up for it?" he asked, unaware of the double entendre.
"Definitely," Kahlan said, leaning down to lick his nipple.
That was all Richard could take. He went after Kahlan so fast that they ended up on the floor, and stayed there a nice long while.
***
The celebration was still raging outside, not that you could tell by looking at Cara. She had staked a claim in a dark corner of the inn and was killing a bottle of port by inches. Kahlan dropped into the chair opposite her, so unable to stifle her cheerfulness that Cara rolled her eyes. "Don't you have someone better to do?"
Kahlan signaled for a waiter. "We're taking a break. Even people in love need to eat."
"I wouldn't know."
Kahlan's waving gave a man the courage to approach a Mord'Sith. He set down a menu. "Anything to drink?"
"Wine," Kahlan said, crossing her arms. She hadn't bothered to dress in all the Confessor's raiment, and her nipples poked through her dress. "And get my friend whatever she wants."
Cara sniffed disdainfully at how Kahlan had referred to her. The waiter beat a hasty retreat.
"Would you prefer I call you something else?"
"Mistress Cara would be fine," Cara replied softly. Without her customary sarcasm, the barb came off even more wicked. Kahlan almost asked her what was wrong, but didn't. She wouldn't get a straight answer anyway, and Cara was probably just sour at the prospect of having nothing to defend Richard from in the coming years but gaggles of children.
"Mistress Cara," Kahlan said, mock-seriously. "You know, you'd probably attract more company if you got out of those leathers."
Cara did that Mord'Sith pout of hers (Kahlan knew she'd hate it if she ever found out Kahlan thought of it that way). "I don't 'get out' of my leathers any more than you get out of your skin.
"Mmm. Come closer. I want to ask you something."
Cara grudgingly leaned across the table. "What is it, Confessor?"
In the dark of the inn and the din of the crowd, Kahlan kissed her. She had expected shock on Cara's part, maybe even indignation, but not this. Cara moaned contentedly against her lips and ran a hand over her face like a jeweler admiring the cut of a diamond. Kahlan was so surprised that she yielded to Cara's passion. There was all the intensity she'd felt with Richard, maybe more. An eternity of longing, yearning, needing, locked down tight enough to never surface but suddenly given license to run free. Then something Kahlan did gave Cara pause. She pulled away, suddenly fixing Kahlan with all the wariness and suspicion she usually kept hooded. "Why did you do that?"
Kahlan had been drunk on Richard and hers new intimacy. This sobered her. "I," she stammered, "I thought you might like to join us."
Cara took her meaning instantly. "As a plaything?"
"No! Not like that at all! As a—as you!"
"Really. Would you tell me how beautiful I am? Would you bring me flowers? Would you dance with me?"
Kahlan forced herself to meet Cara's glare. The Mord'Sith was angry, obviously, but there was something else in her eyes… something hurt and squandered. "I didn't know you wanted those things." From me, she didn't add.
Cara raised her voice, the sorrow disappearing into rage. "I wanted you to want them for me!"
"I didn't even know you had feelings for me." Kahlan pleaded.
"Yes. You didn't think about my feelings at all." Cara rose. Kahlan could see anger flashing once more in her eyes, then die, as Cara pulled deep inside herself, burying every trace of emotion under a Mord'Sith mask. "It was easier when you didn't want me at all, but now you taunt me with this. With yourself."
Easier. Like it'd been easier for Kahlan when she and Richard didn't talk about their feelings, pretended they were nothing more than friends because that was all they could be. Only it hadn't been easy. It'd been hurtful and foolish and she'd never missed out on one of the best parts of her life.
And Cara felt the same way.
Kahlan reached for her. She had it in the back of her mind that if she could just take Cara's hand like she had in the tomb, she could make Cara feel just how much she truly valued her. She'd thought that Cara would want no complications, but in reducing her to a sex object, Kahlan had devalued their friendship to just the services Cara could provide, fighting and fucking, when all Kahlan had wanted was to share some of the happiness she'd found with Richard. But she'd been so caught up in pleasing Richard that she'd forgotten Cara was more than the façade she presented to the world.
Cara took her hand and twisted it painfully at the wrist. "Don't talk to me again. I won't be needing any more of your lessons on social etiquette." She threw Kahlan's hand aside, but couldn't tear herself away from her. They stood there like two weights plummeting at the same speed. When Cara spoke, it was as a woman stripped bare. Even her sarcasm had left her. "Do you know how the Mord'Sith know someone is broken? It's not when they swear fealty. It's when they believe we love them."
