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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: 2,541
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Triana, Cara/Dahlia, Richard/Kahlan, Berdine/Raina
Author’s notes: Betaed by the lovely and talented![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
susurrusnight
Previous: Part 6
Next: Part 8
Summary: Kahlan thinks Cara is dead. She thinks about Cara a lot, actually.
Castle Invictus was exactly as Richard remembered it. Unfortunately, he remembered it as being full of dust and cobwebs. He'd set some of the refugees on cleaning it, but they were being insolently slow, obviously expecting him to resolve things before they had to spend real time under siege. It made him want to turn the Mord'Sith on them. That made him scour his hand against the side of his head.
"Rikka, how are we set for supplies?"
The Mord'Sith subtly snapped to attention when he spoke to her. It was creepy. With Cara, his words had always bounced off a wall of sarcasm. Somehow, he preferred that to this… deference. "With rationing, we'll last a week. We could buy a few days by putting down the—"
"No," Richard looked down from the balcony at the crowd in the courtyard. It was a mile-long and fifty feet wide, but with the refugees dumping their things in "campsites", nearly all of it was taken up. They'd just managed to leave enough space for a latrine. "See what you can do about finding a barracks, somewhere to spread the people out. If they stay that cramped together, there's bound to be problems."
"Yes, Lord Rahl."
He winced.
Richard had taken over the keep for himself, relocating the wounded to the beds inside and allowing the Mord'Sith free rein inside. With the armory, storehouse, and water well within, it had to be tightly controlled. Besides, Kahlan was in there.
Zedd came out onto the balcony, getting shoulder-checked by Rikka as she passed. He grumbled, but didn't pick a fight. "Richard, Kahlan's going to be fine," he said, easily able to predict Richard's first question. "She's resting now."
Richard nodded, playing the stoic, but feeling something uncurl and ease from his gut to his shoulders. "That's good. And you?"
"I've been around for a hundred years. It'll take more than a little sharp metal to put me away." He sat down heavily. "But not much more."
Richard turned around, seating himself on the balustrade of the balcony. "We can't stay here. Even if we could hold out, there's nothing to stop Jagang from attacking the Midlands. We need a way to stop him."
"As you saw, his men are protected by powerful magic. It'd take a miracle to beat him."
"How did Amfortas do it?"
"I don't know."
"Then go back to your research. Get whoever you can to help you, but we need an answer now."
"Richard, I can't. The books are back in town, at the inn."
Richard took a deep breath, and deeply missed having Cara around to vocalize what everyone else left unsaid. "Alright. You're in charge. I'll be right back."
He stepped back into the keep. Naturally, Triana was waiting for him. Since Cara's death, she'd buried herself in his protection, rarely more than a handspan from him. He nodded to her and picked up his bow and quiver.
"Going mouse-hunting?" Triana asked. "I've heard some of the old ones complaining."
"No. Going back to town. You want anything?"
"Explain," she said simply.
"Zedd's books are back there. We need them if we're going to beat Jagang."
"Alright. I'll take Rikka and Hally."
"No, you won't." Richard checked the slide on his scabbard. As always, the sword came free easily. "You'll stay here and protect Kahlan. I won't allow any more of you to die."
"It's our job," Triana said, an equally simple statement.
"Find a new line of work."
He made for the door and Triana got in his way. "We have said we are free. That you will not use us as Darken Rahl did."
"Which is why you're not coming."
"If I am free, then I am free to accompany you."
"Triana," he huffed.
"If you would prefer I be a housewife raising urchins, then order it. If you would prefer I be free, then let me use my freedom as I wish. As Cara would wish."
Richard's jaw clamped. "You can come. Rikka and Hally stay."
"Acceptable. I'll tell Raina she's in charge."
"I already told Zedd he was in charge."
"Yes. I'll tell Raina she's in charge."
***
Cara had never been good at cooking. Never had to be. From her very beginnings as a Mord'Sith, she'd been able to sway and intimidate others into preparing her meals. So it was now, watching Dahlia prepare the meat Cara had provided.
"Nice night," Cara said.
"It'll rain any minute now," Dahlia returned.
They were in a cave, a hole in one of the foothills that cropped up near their destination. Of course, Dahlia was being snippy, just because Cara had her pulling her weight. The elk was being roasted on a spit, which Dahlia was turning.
"I like the rain," Cara said, watching a storm cloud ignite. Lightning forked downward to claw at the ground.
"The rain makes people cold, makes them sick, overflows dams and floods entire villages… in the Underworld…"
"I'm tired of you talking now," Cara said. A dark cloud lit up, lightning flaring majestically inside it. "Is there anything you like about not being dead?"
Dahlia looked at her for a moment. "I heard some pretty music once."
Cara sat herself down at a huff. After a moment, she said what Kahlan would say. "Tell me about it."
"It was during Darken Rahl's reign. I was sent from the Palace to look for a young wizard. On my journey, I came across a group of people singing to a man who looked like Darken Rahl, while he pretended to be shocked and hurt by their songs. A lot of them were just dirty limericks. But some of them were… they talked about people they'd lost to his tyranny, or what they hoped the world would be like when the Seeker fulfilled the prophecy. I stayed for a day, listening. I just wanted to know. Why would so many people gather together, in defiance of all society, to listen to music. This one woman played a harp. No words. It was like he was speaking a secret language of things you could only say with music. She was beautiful… supper's ready."
Cara took her longknife and cut off a strip from the flank, which she handed to Dahlia.
"I can do that," Dahlia said.
"I can do it better. Eat."
***
As they ate -- Dahlia watching Cara suck the grease from the bone, her fingers, before moving on to the next piece – a sound started up. At first, it was almost indistinguishable from the stirring of the rain against the rock. But it kept going, their ears attuning to it until it was unmistakably scribbling. And it was coming from Cara's pack.
She finished her bone and tossed it on the fire, then dug in her pack until she found the small journey book Richard had made for her. Inside, a quill was scratching against the closed pages. Cara opened it, turning until she saw words appearing in red. Kahlan's handwriting. Splotches obscuring the words occasionally, like raindrops hitting them. Or tears.
Cara,
I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't know what comfort it will bring me. Lately, the only comfort I feel is that you're with the Spirits, because if anyone deserves to be sheltered by them, it's you. That Richard and I will see you again I have no doubt, but it hurts, it wounds, that I can't see you now, see you becoming the magnificent woman I've only gotten glimpses of. But all I have left of you are regrets. A Confessor's job, and most especially a Mother Confessor's, is to emphasize and reconcile the wants and needs of many. But I was so wrapped up in my happiness I thought nothing of yours. Your crush on me was sweet, and I should've done more to let you know it was normal, not something to be ashamed of. I should've helped you find someone who deserves and returns your feelings. For a long time, I've felt protective of you. I've seen how vulnerable you can be. I mourn you now as a sister, a blood relation. That's the only explanation I can give for how close I feel to you, the desire I have to honor your memory and protect
Stop blubbering, Kahlan. You're embarrassing me in front of Dahlia.
Cara? Is that you?
Who else would it be?
Triana said you were dead.
She lies. She does that. Whose blood are you writing with? I hope you're not wasting your own.
Berdine donated some when we changed her bandages. What is Dahlia doing there?
I put a Rada'han on her. She's been very kind. She was even nice enough to let me use her blood to write this.
In actuality, it came from the elk. Cara wasn't sure why she lied.
Cara…
What?
You know what.
Can we go back to you paying homage to me?
Listen. We've gone to Castle Invictus. Come here quickly. We're working out a plan of attack.
Not yet. The war wizards are digging something out of the mountain. I'm going to find out what it is.
Are your hands on your hips?
Yes.
I'll be careful. If anything happens, I won't hesitate to use Dahlia as a human shield.
"What are you writing?" Dahlia asked in-between bites of her venison.
"Heroic stuff," Cara replied. "How best to protect the innocent and help useless people with stupid problems. That kind of thing."
We think we've found out Darken Rahl's plan. He's going to use Jagang like a forest fire, burning away the deadwood so the forest can grow.
Did you let Richard come up with the metaphors?
He'll convince Jagang to spare D'Hara. Then, after the war wizards have broken the world's spirit, Rahl will put them back where he found them and take over. We need to find out how he plans to stop their rampage.
I'll see what I can do.
Cara…
Cara glanced up at Dahlia, who was staring at her through her profession's red veil.
It's been four minutes. Write something.
Just be careful, alright? The most important thing is that you come back safe.
We must agree to disagree, Mother Confessor.
Cara closed the book and stuffed it back into her pack. "Your friend Darken Rahl is planning to betray the Keeper, again. After he lets Jagang take care of his enemies, he'll retake D'Hara. The world of the living will keep going for a long time."
Dahlia scowled. "And what about your friends? The ones who abandoned you?"
"They're safe," Cara said. "At an abandoned castle nearby."
"So when do we leave? I doubt Kahlan can wait to see you. Maybe when we get there, she'll give you a big wet kiss."
"I'm not going. I'm going to find out what the war wizards are digging up and then, hopefully, I'm going to use it to kill them all."
Dahlia's eyes rolled precipitously. "And what will become of me?"
Cara's hand shot out, catching Dahlia cross the face. Her head jerked to the side and seemed like it might straighten for a moment, before she slumped to the ground. Cara opened the Rada'han and clasped it onto her belt, leaving Dahlia lying in the warmth of the fire.
"Have fun serving the Keeper," she said, and set off into the pouring rain.
***
By the time Cara reached the mountain, the rain had stopped. She set herself within a wayward pine and let herself rest until she stopped shivering. The dawn came. With the light the way it was, she'd have the advantage of stealth and the guards' own tiredness. Crawling from the hollow tree, she examined the mountain in the light of day.
If it was a volcano, it had obviously lain dormant for a long time. One side was a tapering, almost conical slope dotted with vegetation—bushes, trees, even some flowers. The other, like the flipside of a coin, was a steep and craggy cliff, like the volcano had been cut in half right down the middle. No one could climb that.
Cliff it was.
***
Cara felt out a new handhold and curled her fingers into it. Progress had been easier than she'd expected. She could always see the top. Knifing her fingers into a crack--it gave way in her hand. She dropped five feet before grabbing hold of a ledge, her body slammed against the cliff. The wind that was knocked out of her stirred some lichen in front of her face, growing where it could on the rocky mountainside. Below, the rocks she’d dislodged tumbled for a long, long time.
She kept going. She only needed to take her mind off the fall. Dahlia came to mind. She wondered if she had done the right thing in letting her live. There was always the chance that she would go running back to Darken Rahl. There was always the chance she wouldn't.
It was impossible to read her. Most people were easy to figure out. Like reading a book. They were motivated by lust, hunger, fear, a pathetic need for safety. Dahlia was a book bound in metal, written in some indecipherable language, chained to a boulder at the bottom of a cave. Cara couldn’t count on Dahlia being her enemy. Once, she had been something more.
She considered the possibility that Dahlia was attracted to her. Well, it was possible. She thought Dahlia was attractive, at least. Not as attractive as Kahlan, but maybe if you replaced those sexless red robes with something a little more flattering… maybe if she could see Dahlia fight once more…
It wouldn't be love. But Cara could use sex with someone who could keep pace.
There was a new scent in the air. Not the cloyingly sweet smell of a rainfall passed, this was sharp, harsh, metallic. Fire and brimstone. Like the underworld. At long last, Cara’s hands caressed the summit and she pulled herself up.
The top of the mountain had been sheared away, as neat and clean as a Mord'Sith would break a bone. Smoldering craters turned the plain rock into a hellish landscape; the wizards were digging. Not anymore. They'd gathered in a circle around the largest crater of all. Rahl walked inside their ranks, never using one sentence where ten would do. "Many of you have asked what use the leader of the Imperial Order has for a lowly Lord Rahl, now that you have your freedom. And I would reply, what's the use of freedom if it can be taken away at a moment's notice? Although your captors are long dead, your prison remains, waiting to be refilled. But not anymore. While you've been… indisposed, hundreds of years' worth of magical research has been done. Giving me all the knowledge I need to destroy the Clear Eye's Fire forever. Allow me to demonstrate."
Cara had crept close enough to see what the war wizards had uncovered. If it was a vault, much like the one of the Queen of Tamarang had used, with fearsome faces carved on the sides to deter robbers. Cara watched every one of them melt as Rahl washed it in fire.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,541
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Triana, Cara/Dahlia, Richard/Kahlan, Berdine/Raina
Author’s notes: Betaed by the lovely and talented
susurrusnight Previous: Part 6
Next: Part 8
Summary: Kahlan thinks Cara is dead. She thinks about Cara a lot, actually.
Castle Invictus was exactly as Richard remembered it. Unfortunately, he remembered it as being full of dust and cobwebs. He'd set some of the refugees on cleaning it, but they were being insolently slow, obviously expecting him to resolve things before they had to spend real time under siege. It made him want to turn the Mord'Sith on them. That made him scour his hand against the side of his head.
"Rikka, how are we set for supplies?"
The Mord'Sith subtly snapped to attention when he spoke to her. It was creepy. With Cara, his words had always bounced off a wall of sarcasm. Somehow, he preferred that to this… deference. "With rationing, we'll last a week. We could buy a few days by putting down the—"
"No," Richard looked down from the balcony at the crowd in the courtyard. It was a mile-long and fifty feet wide, but with the refugees dumping their things in "campsites", nearly all of it was taken up. They'd just managed to leave enough space for a latrine. "See what you can do about finding a barracks, somewhere to spread the people out. If they stay that cramped together, there's bound to be problems."
"Yes, Lord Rahl."
He winced.
Richard had taken over the keep for himself, relocating the wounded to the beds inside and allowing the Mord'Sith free rein inside. With the armory, storehouse, and water well within, it had to be tightly controlled. Besides, Kahlan was in there.
Zedd came out onto the balcony, getting shoulder-checked by Rikka as she passed. He grumbled, but didn't pick a fight. "Richard, Kahlan's going to be fine," he said, easily able to predict Richard's first question. "She's resting now."
Richard nodded, playing the stoic, but feeling something uncurl and ease from his gut to his shoulders. "That's good. And you?"
"I've been around for a hundred years. It'll take more than a little sharp metal to put me away." He sat down heavily. "But not much more."
Richard turned around, seating himself on the balustrade of the balcony. "We can't stay here. Even if we could hold out, there's nothing to stop Jagang from attacking the Midlands. We need a way to stop him."
"As you saw, his men are protected by powerful magic. It'd take a miracle to beat him."
"How did Amfortas do it?"
"I don't know."
"Then go back to your research. Get whoever you can to help you, but we need an answer now."
"Richard, I can't. The books are back in town, at the inn."
Richard took a deep breath, and deeply missed having Cara around to vocalize what everyone else left unsaid. "Alright. You're in charge. I'll be right back."
He stepped back into the keep. Naturally, Triana was waiting for him. Since Cara's death, she'd buried herself in his protection, rarely more than a handspan from him. He nodded to her and picked up his bow and quiver.
"Going mouse-hunting?" Triana asked. "I've heard some of the old ones complaining."
"No. Going back to town. You want anything?"
"Explain," she said simply.
"Zedd's books are back there. We need them if we're going to beat Jagang."
"Alright. I'll take Rikka and Hally."
"No, you won't." Richard checked the slide on his scabbard. As always, the sword came free easily. "You'll stay here and protect Kahlan. I won't allow any more of you to die."
"It's our job," Triana said, an equally simple statement.
"Find a new line of work."
He made for the door and Triana got in his way. "We have said we are free. That you will not use us as Darken Rahl did."
"Which is why you're not coming."
"If I am free, then I am free to accompany you."
"Triana," he huffed.
"If you would prefer I be a housewife raising urchins, then order it. If you would prefer I be free, then let me use my freedom as I wish. As Cara would wish."
Richard's jaw clamped. "You can come. Rikka and Hally stay."
"Acceptable. I'll tell Raina she's in charge."
"I already told Zedd he was in charge."
"Yes. I'll tell Raina she's in charge."
***
Cara had never been good at cooking. Never had to be. From her very beginnings as a Mord'Sith, she'd been able to sway and intimidate others into preparing her meals. So it was now, watching Dahlia prepare the meat Cara had provided.
"Nice night," Cara said.
"It'll rain any minute now," Dahlia returned.
They were in a cave, a hole in one of the foothills that cropped up near their destination. Of course, Dahlia was being snippy, just because Cara had her pulling her weight. The elk was being roasted on a spit, which Dahlia was turning.
"I like the rain," Cara said, watching a storm cloud ignite. Lightning forked downward to claw at the ground.
"The rain makes people cold, makes them sick, overflows dams and floods entire villages… in the Underworld…"
"I'm tired of you talking now," Cara said. A dark cloud lit up, lightning flaring majestically inside it. "Is there anything you like about not being dead?"
Dahlia looked at her for a moment. "I heard some pretty music once."
Cara sat herself down at a huff. After a moment, she said what Kahlan would say. "Tell me about it."
"It was during Darken Rahl's reign. I was sent from the Palace to look for a young wizard. On my journey, I came across a group of people singing to a man who looked like Darken Rahl, while he pretended to be shocked and hurt by their songs. A lot of them were just dirty limericks. But some of them were… they talked about people they'd lost to his tyranny, or what they hoped the world would be like when the Seeker fulfilled the prophecy. I stayed for a day, listening. I just wanted to know. Why would so many people gather together, in defiance of all society, to listen to music. This one woman played a harp. No words. It was like he was speaking a secret language of things you could only say with music. She was beautiful… supper's ready."
Cara took her longknife and cut off a strip from the flank, which she handed to Dahlia.
"I can do that," Dahlia said.
"I can do it better. Eat."
***
As they ate -- Dahlia watching Cara suck the grease from the bone, her fingers, before moving on to the next piece – a sound started up. At first, it was almost indistinguishable from the stirring of the rain against the rock. But it kept going, their ears attuning to it until it was unmistakably scribbling. And it was coming from Cara's pack.
She finished her bone and tossed it on the fire, then dug in her pack until she found the small journey book Richard had made for her. Inside, a quill was scratching against the closed pages. Cara opened it, turning until she saw words appearing in red. Kahlan's handwriting. Splotches obscuring the words occasionally, like raindrops hitting them. Or tears.
Cara,
I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't know what comfort it will bring me. Lately, the only comfort I feel is that you're with the Spirits, because if anyone deserves to be sheltered by them, it's you. That Richard and I will see you again I have no doubt, but it hurts, it wounds, that I can't see you now, see you becoming the magnificent woman I've only gotten glimpses of. But all I have left of you are regrets. A Confessor's job, and most especially a Mother Confessor's, is to emphasize and reconcile the wants and needs of many. But I was so wrapped up in my happiness I thought nothing of yours. Your crush on me was sweet, and I should've done more to let you know it was normal, not something to be ashamed of. I should've helped you find someone who deserves and returns your feelings. For a long time, I've felt protective of you. I've seen how vulnerable you can be. I mourn you now as a sister, a blood relation. That's the only explanation I can give for how close I feel to you, the desire I have to honor your memory and protect
Stop blubbering, Kahlan. You're embarrassing me in front of Dahlia.
Cara? Is that you?
Who else would it be?
Triana said you were dead.
She lies. She does that. Whose blood are you writing with? I hope you're not wasting your own.
Berdine donated some when we changed her bandages. What is Dahlia doing there?
I put a Rada'han on her. She's been very kind. She was even nice enough to let me use her blood to write this.
In actuality, it came from the elk. Cara wasn't sure why she lied.
Cara…
What?
You know what.
Can we go back to you paying homage to me?
Listen. We've gone to Castle Invictus. Come here quickly. We're working out a plan of attack.
Not yet. The war wizards are digging something out of the mountain. I'm going to find out what it is.
Are your hands on your hips?
Yes.
I'll be careful. If anything happens, I won't hesitate to use Dahlia as a human shield.
"What are you writing?" Dahlia asked in-between bites of her venison.
"Heroic stuff," Cara replied. "How best to protect the innocent and help useless people with stupid problems. That kind of thing."
We think we've found out Darken Rahl's plan. He's going to use Jagang like a forest fire, burning away the deadwood so the forest can grow.
Did you let Richard come up with the metaphors?
He'll convince Jagang to spare D'Hara. Then, after the war wizards have broken the world's spirit, Rahl will put them back where he found them and take over. We need to find out how he plans to stop their rampage.
I'll see what I can do.
Cara…
Cara glanced up at Dahlia, who was staring at her through her profession's red veil.
It's been four minutes. Write something.
Just be careful, alright? The most important thing is that you come back safe.
We must agree to disagree, Mother Confessor.
Cara closed the book and stuffed it back into her pack. "Your friend Darken Rahl is planning to betray the Keeper, again. After he lets Jagang take care of his enemies, he'll retake D'Hara. The world of the living will keep going for a long time."
Dahlia scowled. "And what about your friends? The ones who abandoned you?"
"They're safe," Cara said. "At an abandoned castle nearby."
"So when do we leave? I doubt Kahlan can wait to see you. Maybe when we get there, she'll give you a big wet kiss."
"I'm not going. I'm going to find out what the war wizards are digging up and then, hopefully, I'm going to use it to kill them all."
Dahlia's eyes rolled precipitously. "And what will become of me?"
Cara's hand shot out, catching Dahlia cross the face. Her head jerked to the side and seemed like it might straighten for a moment, before she slumped to the ground. Cara opened the Rada'han and clasped it onto her belt, leaving Dahlia lying in the warmth of the fire.
"Have fun serving the Keeper," she said, and set off into the pouring rain.
***
By the time Cara reached the mountain, the rain had stopped. She set herself within a wayward pine and let herself rest until she stopped shivering. The dawn came. With the light the way it was, she'd have the advantage of stealth and the guards' own tiredness. Crawling from the hollow tree, she examined the mountain in the light of day.
If it was a volcano, it had obviously lain dormant for a long time. One side was a tapering, almost conical slope dotted with vegetation—bushes, trees, even some flowers. The other, like the flipside of a coin, was a steep and craggy cliff, like the volcano had been cut in half right down the middle. No one could climb that.
Cliff it was.
***
Cara felt out a new handhold and curled her fingers into it. Progress had been easier than she'd expected. She could always see the top. Knifing her fingers into a crack--it gave way in her hand. She dropped five feet before grabbing hold of a ledge, her body slammed against the cliff. The wind that was knocked out of her stirred some lichen in front of her face, growing where it could on the rocky mountainside. Below, the rocks she’d dislodged tumbled for a long, long time.
She kept going. She only needed to take her mind off the fall. Dahlia came to mind. She wondered if she had done the right thing in letting her live. There was always the chance that she would go running back to Darken Rahl. There was always the chance she wouldn't.
It was impossible to read her. Most people were easy to figure out. Like reading a book. They were motivated by lust, hunger, fear, a pathetic need for safety. Dahlia was a book bound in metal, written in some indecipherable language, chained to a boulder at the bottom of a cave. Cara couldn’t count on Dahlia being her enemy. Once, she had been something more.
She considered the possibility that Dahlia was attracted to her. Well, it was possible. She thought Dahlia was attractive, at least. Not as attractive as Kahlan, but maybe if you replaced those sexless red robes with something a little more flattering… maybe if she could see Dahlia fight once more…
It wouldn't be love. But Cara could use sex with someone who could keep pace.
There was a new scent in the air. Not the cloyingly sweet smell of a rainfall passed, this was sharp, harsh, metallic. Fire and brimstone. Like the underworld. At long last, Cara’s hands caressed the summit and she pulled herself up.
The top of the mountain had been sheared away, as neat and clean as a Mord'Sith would break a bone. Smoldering craters turned the plain rock into a hellish landscape; the wizards were digging. Not anymore. They'd gathered in a circle around the largest crater of all. Rahl walked inside their ranks, never using one sentence where ten would do. "Many of you have asked what use the leader of the Imperial Order has for a lowly Lord Rahl, now that you have your freedom. And I would reply, what's the use of freedom if it can be taken away at a moment's notice? Although your captors are long dead, your prison remains, waiting to be refilled. But not anymore. While you've been… indisposed, hundreds of years' worth of magical research has been done. Giving me all the knowledge I need to destroy the Clear Eye's Fire forever. Allow me to demonstrate."
Cara had crept close enough to see what the war wizards had uncovered. If it was a vault, much like the one of the Queen of Tamarang had used, with fearsome faces carved on the sides to deter robbers. Cara watched every one of them melt as Rahl washed it in fire.
