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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: 3,381
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 9
Next: Part 11
Summary: Cara doesn't know what she is. Weak. Mord'Sith. In love.
Cara didn't remember being let into the castle. It was like she'd blinked and the room had appeared around her. Kahlan had shocked her out of her numbness. Her hands didn't shake. They were in Kahlan's.
"What's wrong?" Kahlan asked. Normally, Cara would be incensed at her empathy, but just then it came as a comfort to know Kahlan thought her worth such compassion.
Cara didn't answer. For once, she was without words.
Kahlan's gaze shifted to Dahlia. The Dark Sister hadn't left Cara's side, even though it had earned her a ring of Mord'Sith ready to strike her down at a moment's notice. "What did you do!?"
Even through the null that still weighted her down, Cara rose to Dahlia's defense. She couldn't risk Kahlan going into Con Dar. "She's done nothing. I'm fine."
Kahlan stared deep into Cara's eyes, trying to read her not as a Mord'Sith, but as a friend. Cara looked away.
"Leave us," Kahlan told the Mord'Sith, in a tone that would not have met with disagreement whether she was speaking as the Lady Rahl, the Mother Confessor, or a simple farm girl. The Mord'Sith departed, dragging along Dahlia. Kahlan didn't take her eyes off Cara. Even in profile, she seemed less implacable, more torn. Her cuts and bruises she didn't wear as medals.
"What happened out there?" she asked in a voice shorn of all the little inflections that commanded such respect.
"Pain," Cara said, and reached for her Agiel.
Kahlan stopped her, grabbing her wrist and squeezing. Cara closed her eyes and could still feel Kahlan there, holding on.
"You don't need that," Kahlan said, promised. "Tell me. Just try to tell me."
"Something's wrong. I don't want to talk about it. I can handle everything on my own."
"You don't have to."
"Yes, I do." Cara twisted Kahlan's hand so her ring was facing up, catching the light. "I don't have a husband."
"This is about Richard?"
Cara lied smoothly. "Isn't everything?"
"You're my best friend," Kahlan said quietly. The blow of Cara's bitterness had caught her off-guard, throwing her off-course. "You know how much I want this. I thought you could at least be a little happy for me."
"I guess I don't love you that much." Cara went for the door.
"You're still my best friend," Kahlan called after her.
Cara stopped at the door. She opened it. Looked outside. No one was there. The door closed. Cara looked over her shoulder. When Kahlan saw her eyes, they were wavering. She was looking at Kahlan like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, trying to gauge how far she'd fall if she jumped and where she'd land.
"Darken Rahl tried to rape me. But he didn't. So it's okay."
She opened the door again.
***
Triana had refused to be bed-ridden like a common human. Even now she stood in Dahlia's face, first to be targeted if Dahlia tried anything, leaning on her crutch as if it were a weapon. "They say in another life, you were Mord'Sith."
"I'm sure we're all sorts of things, in other lives."
"I don't buy it. You'd cut off your own hand before holding an Agiel for five minutes."
"Good. We're in agreement."
The chamber door banged open, cutting them both off. Cara prowled out, and both women were observant enough to note that her wounds had been cleaned. "Triana, with me."
Triana bowed, more pleased to give respect than anyone could be to receive it.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Dahlia called.
Cara stopped. Although she didn't look back, Triana did. Her eyes lit up at Cara's words. "The Mother Confessor has chosen to extend unearned mercy. You will be sheltered and fed, and watched at all times. It is a foolish choice, but I am obliged to follow foolishness."
She walked off before Dahlia could ask if it was a foolish choice she agreed with.
***
Richard saw Cara on his way to help Zedd with some of the translations, words written in magic so only a wizard could read them. Cara seemed the same way. Whatever her life was or had become, it was written in something he couldn't read. He told her he was happy to see her all the same, asked if she was alright. She stared at him like he was a stranger, before asking "Where'd you get the rings?"
Richard looked down to the metal on his finger, the twin to Kahlan's. "They were my parents'. Cara, you sound upset."
"I always sound upset."
***
Cara knocked back the shotglass with seasoned effort. She had an alright buzz going, getting into a screaming match with the pounding in her ears, and all the noise blotted out memories. Now she could only remember the big things, like Darken Rahl's touch. She could forget what he had said to her. Whether it was true or not.
"Thanks for letting me come in here and drink all your booze," she said. Even in her inebriation, her words came out smooth and unslurred. Mord'Sith training. It never left.
"Anytime, Cara," Triana said. She sat down across from Cara, slouching in her chair like a lion sated from a kill. Only Cara didn't see a carcass. She herself was straddling her chair, arms and head down on the back, hair hanging some over her face. "Now why'd you really come here? You're resourceful enough to get alcohol on your own."
She reached over to Cara, one of the little touches that could convey much to a Mord'Sith, and Cara twisted her arm so hard it would've broken if she weren't Mord'Sith. Triana went down on her knees, but didn't seem bowed. Maybe it was how she hadn't made a noise.
"If I want you to touch me, I'll give you permission," Cara said.
"From what I've been hearing, you've given our Lady Rahl permission. She hasn't done much with it." From anyone else, it would be a harsh rejoinder. From her, from a Mord'Sith, it wasn't. Just a statement of fact.
"And if I gave you permission? What would you do with it?"
"Everything."
Cara got up, let Triana go. The room had a bed. She went to it. She laid down.
"In the heat of the moment, I might... resist. If that happens, I want you to go through with it anyway, ignore me, hold me down, do whatever you have to do. But don't let me back out of this." She began to undress herself, and had become so used to doing it on her own that it was shocking when Triana helped her in lecherous ritual. "I need this," she said, to someone. "I don't know any other way…"
"I was wrong about you," Triana said, trailing her gloved hand down skin as it was exposed. (And spirits, how good it was to feel hard leather touching her instead of weak flesh.) "You are still Mord'Sith." Her caress made Cara's nipples tense into pebbles. Cara didn't whimper, didn't beg. She smiled until it froze.
"Raina!" Triana called.
Cara started. "What do you want with her?" She calmed herself. "Am I not enough for you?"
"Wrong way around. You're Cara Mason, and I'm wounded. I may not be able to hold you down on my own." Triana got up. Her leathers shone in the light as she circled around, sat down at the head of the bed. Put Cara's head in her lap. Took Cara's hands in hers. A cat with a mouse. "But I can watch. I can see everything."
***
When he slipped into her hospital bed besides Kahlan after changing her bandages, Richard noticed that Kahlan clung to him doubly tight. He chalked it up to relief at Cara returning to them and continued worry for all of them. Kahlan hadn't told him about Cara's violation. It was a private matter, a woman's matter, and as heartfelt and sincere as the comfort he offered would be, it would come tinged with pity, and that wasn't what Cara needed. She needed someone to share her rage and pick up her sorrow when she couldn't hold it.
"Richard," she said, knowing he wouldn't sleep comfortably until she'd shared at least a little of what burdened her. "Do you know Cara loves me?"
She felt Richard's fond smile pass through his body like warmth. "Of course. She's not half as subtle about it as she thinks. Now, Zedd…"
"Not like that." Kahlan took Richard's hand, their rings clicking softly together. "Like us."
"Oh…" Richard muttered. When Kahlan turned to look at him, he still wore at least a half-smile. "I suppose I can't blame her."
"Is that all?"
"Actually, it's kinda hot."
"Richard!"
"Kahlan, I trust you. I know you would never do anything to hurt me, ever. So what I'm really wondering is why you told me."
She shrank back. His touch was suddenly too warm, too hard to feel. It reminded her of the days when she couldn't touch him, couldn't look at him, because of where it might lead. "Because you have to know."
Richard laid on the bed beside her, watching her stare at the ceiling. "If it was really nothing, then why do I have to know? Do you feel guilty?"
"A little, yes. Wouldn't you?"
"I suppose." He refrained from the desire to hold her in his arms until she was out of pain, or kiss away any anguish, restricting himself to brushing some hair from her eyes. "It's clear you care about her. Maybe as a friend, maybe as something else. I'm not angry about that."
Kahlan turned to look at him, expectantly, meeting his even gaze and holding it as he continued.
"You remember when I first came to the Midlands? I didn't know any of the customs, any of that. If you had told me that a woman could love two people, that that's how it was in the Midlands… I would accept that."
Kahlan rolled over onto her side. "That's not how it is in the Midlands."
***
Cara felt nothing. Not the Agiel Triana was prodding her with nor Raina's teeth as she bit at Cara's thighs. The pain neither burned nor cajoled. It just lingered. This wasn't blocking her life out, it was letting something else in.
Cara had been alone many times, but she had never felt lonely. She cast her eyes desperately across the room, hoping for anything to awaken inside her. She saw two sisters in thrall to her, their leathers askew, their Agiels gripped tightly. All that happened was her seeing Raina's eyes tightly shut. Not in pleasure.
Cara sat up, shrugging Triana away with ease. "Why are your eyes closed?"
"Mistress?"
"Answer her," Triana whispered, the steel in her words making it a scream to Mord'Sith ears.
Raina looked Cara in the eye, now owning her mistake and turning it around on her mistress. "Because with my eyes closed, it is easier to pretend you are Berdine."
Cara adjusted Raina's leathers for her, giving her some modesty. "Because she's the one you want."
"Yes, mistress."
"Go to her."
Raina got up, confused.
"Cara," Triana said, sounding it like a curse. "If she stays, we can punish her."
"For what? Being in love?"
"She is meant to love the Lord Rahl!"
"Not anymore." Cara turned to Raina, still standing there like a child in the midst of her parents' argument. "Go."
Raina left. Cara got up to follow her. Triana made no move to stop her. She laid there in her dishabille, beautiful and meaningless.
"You were right after all," Cara said, dressing herself. "I'm not Mord'Sith."
"I don't know whether to pity you or envy you."
"When you figure it out, let me know."
***
Cara stood at a window, watching the sun slowly die. Intellectually, she'd known she was broken. Corrupted. Perverted from who she was meant to be. But she had never felt it until now. She couldn't think of what to do with herself. Protecting Richard held no appeal for her anymore. How long would he need a monster guarding his flank? Would she cling to him, decade after decade, as he brought peace to D'Hara and hugged grandchildren, a constant reminder of the horrors of Darken Rahl? She didn't want that. She didn't want anything.
"Cara?" Kahlan said her name softly, like a student trying out a musical instrument for the first time.
Cara didn't bother to put herself on guard against Kahlan's intrusive brand of friendship. It didn't matter. "Come in, Kahlan."
Kahlan closed the door behind her. Cara had selected an archery tower to sleep in, from which she could ably defend her friends, although from all the dressers it had last been used as a closet. Among the bows and arrows, Kahlan's white dress made her into a specter. "You're hurt," she said.
"Yes."
"Let me help you." Kahlan closed with Cara and the Mord'Sith tensed herself, expecting an embrace, a squeezed hand or even a kiss on the cheek. When Kahlan's lips met hers, parting for her tongue to stroke Cara's, it was as if the floor fell out from under her. Cara fell through level after level until she was buried below the earth.
As overwhelmed as it was, Cara's body cried out for her to do something, and she kissed back haphazardly, her lips slipping off Kahlan's. Kahlan brooked no hesitation. Her hands, stronger and surer than Cara could've imagined, clenched on Cara's neck, her hip. Cara thought she might collapse if it weren't for them. But somehow she was granted a respite. As Kahlan pressed against her, she touched the holstered Agiel and jerked away, wincing in pain.
Breathing hard, they stared at each other. Kahlan's lips stayed parted, gleaming with moisture. She pulled her hair back, letting it all fall behind her shoulders. Sitting offensively on her swan-like neck was a Rada'han.
"Take that off," Cara said.
"No. We'll need it."
Then she meant it. This wasn't some… fantasy of Cara's she meant to indulge. Kahlan had feelings for Cara, and even if it was too soon to trust them against confession, they were worth expressing. The idea sat in Cara's stomach, twisting and turning.
"What about Richard?" Cara demanded.
"My thoughts exactly." Kahlan returned to Cara, towering over her, close enough that anything could happen.
Cara had always thought she was strong. Thought she was unbeatable. Thought she was Mord'Sith.
No. She was weak.
She took the Agiels off her belt and let them clatter to the ground.
Kahlan kissed her again and in that instant, Cara felt a sudden, gaping silence. No duty. No doubt. No past. No future. Just the all-encompassing sensation of Kahlan, owning her and giving herself to her at the same time. No, it was more than that. There was a warmth there, tasting of the friendship and sisterhood that Kahlan had offered for so long, only now Cara could partake of it whole-heartedly. The reason why was irrelevant. She had her. She felt… whole.
The sensation ended, the warmth stayed. But as if Kahlan too couldn't get enough, the Mother Confessor moved in to brush her lips once more against Cara's before speaking. "How do I undress you?"
Part of Cara didn't want to answer. She wanted to bite at Kahlan, claw at her for the audacity of asking, leave her wanting and moaning like a slut on the bed while Cara, the picture of calm, undressed in the other room, depriving Kahlan of all but the sound of leather parting from her body. Then and only then would she return, perfect, nude, to show her how a Mord'Sith made love.
She would be in control. She would be above Kahlan. But she didn't want those things. She wanted to be as low as Kahlan took her, she wanted to be controlled by her feelings like she was a little girl again, she wanted this sensation to continue unceasingly. Wants weren't as important as needs. She needed Kahlan not to rethink this, not to leave. She needed Kahlan to love her.
"Tell me," she begged, with the same urgency that had Kahlan's fists bunched in her lacing. "Tell me how you feel about me."
"I love you," Kahlan kissed Cara's lips. "I love you." Her eyes. "I love you." Her forehead. "Please just let me love you."
In quick, breathy detail Cara explained to Kahlan how to undress her. Her hands worked fast, their touch chilled and the slightest bit moist. Cara wasn't even sure it was real; it seemed so possible that this was a dream until Kahlan laid a hand flush against her chest, feeling the heat of her breast. Under the leathers, Cara burned like a furnace.
Kahlan backed away as Cara's clothes fell away entirely. "You look at me, Cara. You covet me, Cara. What is it you want from me… Cara?"
Cara kicked the last scrap of clothing from her boots. "I want you to give to me what you give to Richard." Her voice was meant to be hard, aggressive. It wasn't.
Kahlan bent backward over a dresser, sprawling herself out, her dress pulling up over her legs to reveal the strong calves and creamy thighs emerging from her boots. Cara thought she could smell Kahlan's desire. "It's here, Cara. For the taking. Do whatever you want to me. Do what you've dreamed of."
Cara bent over Kahlan to thank her for this, for daring to love a Mord'Sith. Not even that, just someone too broken-down and pathetic to go after the woman she loved. And now she had her anyway. It was pure mercy. She kissed Kahlan like she could pack the culmination of all her doubt, all her probing, all her freedom into one kiss. It was impossible, but she would keep trying.
"Say it," Kahlan said as Cara moved lower, the words stirring a wisp of hair from her mouth.
"Say what?" Cara asked, leaning down to the hollow of Kahlan's throat. "That I'm fucking you?" She chuckled low in her throat. "Seems obvious."
"No, no." Kahlan tried to keep her voice even through Cara's assault on her breasts. "Tell me your feelings."
"I would die for you," Cara promised, sealing it with a kiss to Kahlan's speeding heart. "I would kill for you."
"Tell me you love me."
The strangest sort of emotion washed over Cara at the thought of saying those words, like when she had just set out with Richard and had her first stirrings of guilt for what she had done. The simple thought of telling Kahlan she loved her, as Kahlan and Richard had done countless times, let in all the hesitation she had suppressed in her life as a Mord'Sith.
Kahlan was so incensed by the pause that she grabbed Cara's face, forcing her to meet Kahlan's gaze. "Tell me."
"Kahlan, you know how I feel." She wanted to say the words, but they were enormous, too big to fit through her mouth.
Kahlan moved like liquid, suddenly on top of Cara, pinning her down. "Say the words."
It wasn't that the words wouldn't come out, it was that they weren't there. How did she feel about Kahlan? After all the heartache, all the lusting, what was left for them? What could she be to Kahlan? What could she say to her, in the calm hours of afterglow and waking? How could she touch her with her body swathed in leather, how could she hold Kahlan's hand or rub her back without getting the blood of old wounds on her? How could Kahlan ask this of her, all at once? How could Kahlan want her when there wasn't a her to want?
"Cara, please," Kahlan said. And just like that, a lump formed at her cleavage, growing and growing until it ripped through her skin. The tip of a blade, reaching for Cara. Sprayed with blood, she scrambled for her Agiels, flailing with the distended skin of her leathers, finally feeling the reassuring pain – such a welcome relief from the heat of Kahlan's touch and the mugginess of her blood. She swung and Dahlia blocked, her dacra dripping with blood, landing on Kahlan's corpse where it lay between them.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,381
Characters/Pairings: Cara/Triana, Cara/Dahlia, Richard/Kahlan, Berdine/Raina
Author’s notes: Betaed by the lovely and talented
susurrusnight Previous: Part 9
Next: Part 11
Summary: Cara doesn't know what she is. Weak. Mord'Sith. In love.
Cara didn't remember being let into the castle. It was like she'd blinked and the room had appeared around her. Kahlan had shocked her out of her numbness. Her hands didn't shake. They were in Kahlan's.
"What's wrong?" Kahlan asked. Normally, Cara would be incensed at her empathy, but just then it came as a comfort to know Kahlan thought her worth such compassion.
Cara didn't answer. For once, she was without words.
Kahlan's gaze shifted to Dahlia. The Dark Sister hadn't left Cara's side, even though it had earned her a ring of Mord'Sith ready to strike her down at a moment's notice. "What did you do!?"
Even through the null that still weighted her down, Cara rose to Dahlia's defense. She couldn't risk Kahlan going into Con Dar. "She's done nothing. I'm fine."
Kahlan stared deep into Cara's eyes, trying to read her not as a Mord'Sith, but as a friend. Cara looked away.
"Leave us," Kahlan told the Mord'Sith, in a tone that would not have met with disagreement whether she was speaking as the Lady Rahl, the Mother Confessor, or a simple farm girl. The Mord'Sith departed, dragging along Dahlia. Kahlan didn't take her eyes off Cara. Even in profile, she seemed less implacable, more torn. Her cuts and bruises she didn't wear as medals.
"What happened out there?" she asked in a voice shorn of all the little inflections that commanded such respect.
"Pain," Cara said, and reached for her Agiel.
Kahlan stopped her, grabbing her wrist and squeezing. Cara closed her eyes and could still feel Kahlan there, holding on.
"You don't need that," Kahlan said, promised. "Tell me. Just try to tell me."
"Something's wrong. I don't want to talk about it. I can handle everything on my own."
"You don't have to."
"Yes, I do." Cara twisted Kahlan's hand so her ring was facing up, catching the light. "I don't have a husband."
"This is about Richard?"
Cara lied smoothly. "Isn't everything?"
"You're my best friend," Kahlan said quietly. The blow of Cara's bitterness had caught her off-guard, throwing her off-course. "You know how much I want this. I thought you could at least be a little happy for me."
"I guess I don't love you that much." Cara went for the door.
"You're still my best friend," Kahlan called after her.
Cara stopped at the door. She opened it. Looked outside. No one was there. The door closed. Cara looked over her shoulder. When Kahlan saw her eyes, they were wavering. She was looking at Kahlan like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, trying to gauge how far she'd fall if she jumped and where she'd land.
"Darken Rahl tried to rape me. But he didn't. So it's okay."
She opened the door again.
***
Triana had refused to be bed-ridden like a common human. Even now she stood in Dahlia's face, first to be targeted if Dahlia tried anything, leaning on her crutch as if it were a weapon. "They say in another life, you were Mord'Sith."
"I'm sure we're all sorts of things, in other lives."
"I don't buy it. You'd cut off your own hand before holding an Agiel for five minutes."
"Good. We're in agreement."
The chamber door banged open, cutting them both off. Cara prowled out, and both women were observant enough to note that her wounds had been cleaned. "Triana, with me."
Triana bowed, more pleased to give respect than anyone could be to receive it.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Dahlia called.
Cara stopped. Although she didn't look back, Triana did. Her eyes lit up at Cara's words. "The Mother Confessor has chosen to extend unearned mercy. You will be sheltered and fed, and watched at all times. It is a foolish choice, but I am obliged to follow foolishness."
She walked off before Dahlia could ask if it was a foolish choice she agreed with.
***
Richard saw Cara on his way to help Zedd with some of the translations, words written in magic so only a wizard could read them. Cara seemed the same way. Whatever her life was or had become, it was written in something he couldn't read. He told her he was happy to see her all the same, asked if she was alright. She stared at him like he was a stranger, before asking "Where'd you get the rings?"
Richard looked down to the metal on his finger, the twin to Kahlan's. "They were my parents'. Cara, you sound upset."
"I always sound upset."
***
Cara knocked back the shotglass with seasoned effort. She had an alright buzz going, getting into a screaming match with the pounding in her ears, and all the noise blotted out memories. Now she could only remember the big things, like Darken Rahl's touch. She could forget what he had said to her. Whether it was true or not.
"Thanks for letting me come in here and drink all your booze," she said. Even in her inebriation, her words came out smooth and unslurred. Mord'Sith training. It never left.
"Anytime, Cara," Triana said. She sat down across from Cara, slouching in her chair like a lion sated from a kill. Only Cara didn't see a carcass. She herself was straddling her chair, arms and head down on the back, hair hanging some over her face. "Now why'd you really come here? You're resourceful enough to get alcohol on your own."
She reached over to Cara, one of the little touches that could convey much to a Mord'Sith, and Cara twisted her arm so hard it would've broken if she weren't Mord'Sith. Triana went down on her knees, but didn't seem bowed. Maybe it was how she hadn't made a noise.
"If I want you to touch me, I'll give you permission," Cara said.
"From what I've been hearing, you've given our Lady Rahl permission. She hasn't done much with it." From anyone else, it would be a harsh rejoinder. From her, from a Mord'Sith, it wasn't. Just a statement of fact.
"And if I gave you permission? What would you do with it?"
"Everything."
Cara got up, let Triana go. The room had a bed. She went to it. She laid down.
"In the heat of the moment, I might... resist. If that happens, I want you to go through with it anyway, ignore me, hold me down, do whatever you have to do. But don't let me back out of this." She began to undress herself, and had become so used to doing it on her own that it was shocking when Triana helped her in lecherous ritual. "I need this," she said, to someone. "I don't know any other way…"
"I was wrong about you," Triana said, trailing her gloved hand down skin as it was exposed. (And spirits, how good it was to feel hard leather touching her instead of weak flesh.) "You are still Mord'Sith." Her caress made Cara's nipples tense into pebbles. Cara didn't whimper, didn't beg. She smiled until it froze.
"Raina!" Triana called.
Cara started. "What do you want with her?" She calmed herself. "Am I not enough for you?"
"Wrong way around. You're Cara Mason, and I'm wounded. I may not be able to hold you down on my own." Triana got up. Her leathers shone in the light as she circled around, sat down at the head of the bed. Put Cara's head in her lap. Took Cara's hands in hers. A cat with a mouse. "But I can watch. I can see everything."
***
When he slipped into her hospital bed besides Kahlan after changing her bandages, Richard noticed that Kahlan clung to him doubly tight. He chalked it up to relief at Cara returning to them and continued worry for all of them. Kahlan hadn't told him about Cara's violation. It was a private matter, a woman's matter, and as heartfelt and sincere as the comfort he offered would be, it would come tinged with pity, and that wasn't what Cara needed. She needed someone to share her rage and pick up her sorrow when she couldn't hold it.
"Richard," she said, knowing he wouldn't sleep comfortably until she'd shared at least a little of what burdened her. "Do you know Cara loves me?"
She felt Richard's fond smile pass through his body like warmth. "Of course. She's not half as subtle about it as she thinks. Now, Zedd…"
"Not like that." Kahlan took Richard's hand, their rings clicking softly together. "Like us."
"Oh…" Richard muttered. When Kahlan turned to look at him, he still wore at least a half-smile. "I suppose I can't blame her."
"Is that all?"
"Actually, it's kinda hot."
"Richard!"
"Kahlan, I trust you. I know you would never do anything to hurt me, ever. So what I'm really wondering is why you told me."
She shrank back. His touch was suddenly too warm, too hard to feel. It reminded her of the days when she couldn't touch him, couldn't look at him, because of where it might lead. "Because you have to know."
Richard laid on the bed beside her, watching her stare at the ceiling. "If it was really nothing, then why do I have to know? Do you feel guilty?"
"A little, yes. Wouldn't you?"
"I suppose." He refrained from the desire to hold her in his arms until she was out of pain, or kiss away any anguish, restricting himself to brushing some hair from her eyes. "It's clear you care about her. Maybe as a friend, maybe as something else. I'm not angry about that."
Kahlan turned to look at him, expectantly, meeting his even gaze and holding it as he continued.
"You remember when I first came to the Midlands? I didn't know any of the customs, any of that. If you had told me that a woman could love two people, that that's how it was in the Midlands… I would accept that."
Kahlan rolled over onto her side. "That's not how it is in the Midlands."
***
Cara felt nothing. Not the Agiel Triana was prodding her with nor Raina's teeth as she bit at Cara's thighs. The pain neither burned nor cajoled. It just lingered. This wasn't blocking her life out, it was letting something else in.
Cara had been alone many times, but she had never felt lonely. She cast her eyes desperately across the room, hoping for anything to awaken inside her. She saw two sisters in thrall to her, their leathers askew, their Agiels gripped tightly. All that happened was her seeing Raina's eyes tightly shut. Not in pleasure.
Cara sat up, shrugging Triana away with ease. "Why are your eyes closed?"
"Mistress?"
"Answer her," Triana whispered, the steel in her words making it a scream to Mord'Sith ears.
Raina looked Cara in the eye, now owning her mistake and turning it around on her mistress. "Because with my eyes closed, it is easier to pretend you are Berdine."
Cara adjusted Raina's leathers for her, giving her some modesty. "Because she's the one you want."
"Yes, mistress."
"Go to her."
Raina got up, confused.
"Cara," Triana said, sounding it like a curse. "If she stays, we can punish her."
"For what? Being in love?"
"She is meant to love the Lord Rahl!"
"Not anymore." Cara turned to Raina, still standing there like a child in the midst of her parents' argument. "Go."
Raina left. Cara got up to follow her. Triana made no move to stop her. She laid there in her dishabille, beautiful and meaningless.
"You were right after all," Cara said, dressing herself. "I'm not Mord'Sith."
"I don't know whether to pity you or envy you."
"When you figure it out, let me know."
***
Cara stood at a window, watching the sun slowly die. Intellectually, she'd known she was broken. Corrupted. Perverted from who she was meant to be. But she had never felt it until now. She couldn't think of what to do with herself. Protecting Richard held no appeal for her anymore. How long would he need a monster guarding his flank? Would she cling to him, decade after decade, as he brought peace to D'Hara and hugged grandchildren, a constant reminder of the horrors of Darken Rahl? She didn't want that. She didn't want anything.
"Cara?" Kahlan said her name softly, like a student trying out a musical instrument for the first time.
Cara didn't bother to put herself on guard against Kahlan's intrusive brand of friendship. It didn't matter. "Come in, Kahlan."
Kahlan closed the door behind her. Cara had selected an archery tower to sleep in, from which she could ably defend her friends, although from all the dressers it had last been used as a closet. Among the bows and arrows, Kahlan's white dress made her into a specter. "You're hurt," she said.
"Yes."
"Let me help you." Kahlan closed with Cara and the Mord'Sith tensed herself, expecting an embrace, a squeezed hand or even a kiss on the cheek. When Kahlan's lips met hers, parting for her tongue to stroke Cara's, it was as if the floor fell out from under her. Cara fell through level after level until she was buried below the earth.
As overwhelmed as it was, Cara's body cried out for her to do something, and she kissed back haphazardly, her lips slipping off Kahlan's. Kahlan brooked no hesitation. Her hands, stronger and surer than Cara could've imagined, clenched on Cara's neck, her hip. Cara thought she might collapse if it weren't for them. But somehow she was granted a respite. As Kahlan pressed against her, she touched the holstered Agiel and jerked away, wincing in pain.
Breathing hard, they stared at each other. Kahlan's lips stayed parted, gleaming with moisture. She pulled her hair back, letting it all fall behind her shoulders. Sitting offensively on her swan-like neck was a Rada'han.
"Take that off," Cara said.
"No. We'll need it."
Then she meant it. This wasn't some… fantasy of Cara's she meant to indulge. Kahlan had feelings for Cara, and even if it was too soon to trust them against confession, they were worth expressing. The idea sat in Cara's stomach, twisting and turning.
"What about Richard?" Cara demanded.
"My thoughts exactly." Kahlan returned to Cara, towering over her, close enough that anything could happen.
Cara had always thought she was strong. Thought she was unbeatable. Thought she was Mord'Sith.
No. She was weak.
She took the Agiels off her belt and let them clatter to the ground.
Kahlan kissed her again and in that instant, Cara felt a sudden, gaping silence. No duty. No doubt. No past. No future. Just the all-encompassing sensation of Kahlan, owning her and giving herself to her at the same time. No, it was more than that. There was a warmth there, tasting of the friendship and sisterhood that Kahlan had offered for so long, only now Cara could partake of it whole-heartedly. The reason why was irrelevant. She had her. She felt… whole.
The sensation ended, the warmth stayed. But as if Kahlan too couldn't get enough, the Mother Confessor moved in to brush her lips once more against Cara's before speaking. "How do I undress you?"
Part of Cara didn't want to answer. She wanted to bite at Kahlan, claw at her for the audacity of asking, leave her wanting and moaning like a slut on the bed while Cara, the picture of calm, undressed in the other room, depriving Kahlan of all but the sound of leather parting from her body. Then and only then would she return, perfect, nude, to show her how a Mord'Sith made love.
She would be in control. She would be above Kahlan. But she didn't want those things. She wanted to be as low as Kahlan took her, she wanted to be controlled by her feelings like she was a little girl again, she wanted this sensation to continue unceasingly. Wants weren't as important as needs. She needed Kahlan not to rethink this, not to leave. She needed Kahlan to love her.
"Tell me," she begged, with the same urgency that had Kahlan's fists bunched in her lacing. "Tell me how you feel about me."
"I love you," Kahlan kissed Cara's lips. "I love you." Her eyes. "I love you." Her forehead. "Please just let me love you."
In quick, breathy detail Cara explained to Kahlan how to undress her. Her hands worked fast, their touch chilled and the slightest bit moist. Cara wasn't even sure it was real; it seemed so possible that this was a dream until Kahlan laid a hand flush against her chest, feeling the heat of her breast. Under the leathers, Cara burned like a furnace.
Kahlan backed away as Cara's clothes fell away entirely. "You look at me, Cara. You covet me, Cara. What is it you want from me… Cara?"
Cara kicked the last scrap of clothing from her boots. "I want you to give to me what you give to Richard." Her voice was meant to be hard, aggressive. It wasn't.
Kahlan bent backward over a dresser, sprawling herself out, her dress pulling up over her legs to reveal the strong calves and creamy thighs emerging from her boots. Cara thought she could smell Kahlan's desire. "It's here, Cara. For the taking. Do whatever you want to me. Do what you've dreamed of."
Cara bent over Kahlan to thank her for this, for daring to love a Mord'Sith. Not even that, just someone too broken-down and pathetic to go after the woman she loved. And now she had her anyway. It was pure mercy. She kissed Kahlan like she could pack the culmination of all her doubt, all her probing, all her freedom into one kiss. It was impossible, but she would keep trying.
"Say it," Kahlan said as Cara moved lower, the words stirring a wisp of hair from her mouth.
"Say what?" Cara asked, leaning down to the hollow of Kahlan's throat. "That I'm fucking you?" She chuckled low in her throat. "Seems obvious."
"No, no." Kahlan tried to keep her voice even through Cara's assault on her breasts. "Tell me your feelings."
"I would die for you," Cara promised, sealing it with a kiss to Kahlan's speeding heart. "I would kill for you."
"Tell me you love me."
The strangest sort of emotion washed over Cara at the thought of saying those words, like when she had just set out with Richard and had her first stirrings of guilt for what she had done. The simple thought of telling Kahlan she loved her, as Kahlan and Richard had done countless times, let in all the hesitation she had suppressed in her life as a Mord'Sith.
Kahlan was so incensed by the pause that she grabbed Cara's face, forcing her to meet Kahlan's gaze. "Tell me."
"Kahlan, you know how I feel." She wanted to say the words, but they were enormous, too big to fit through her mouth.
Kahlan moved like liquid, suddenly on top of Cara, pinning her down. "Say the words."
It wasn't that the words wouldn't come out, it was that they weren't there. How did she feel about Kahlan? After all the heartache, all the lusting, what was left for them? What could she be to Kahlan? What could she say to her, in the calm hours of afterglow and waking? How could she touch her with her body swathed in leather, how could she hold Kahlan's hand or rub her back without getting the blood of old wounds on her? How could Kahlan ask this of her, all at once? How could Kahlan want her when there wasn't a her to want?
"Cara, please," Kahlan said. And just like that, a lump formed at her cleavage, growing and growing until it ripped through her skin. The tip of a blade, reaching for Cara. Sprayed with blood, she scrambled for her Agiels, flailing with the distended skin of her leathers, finally feeling the reassuring pain – such a welcome relief from the heat of Kahlan's touch and the mugginess of her blood. She swung and Dahlia blocked, her dacra dripping with blood, landing on Kahlan's corpse where it lay between them.
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Date: 2011-06-01 10:26 pm (UTC)( -and look what she´s done right now!!)
But I was wrong! (well, apparently not with my thoughts about Dahlia, but with not reading anyway!)
I already loved other fics you´ve shared with us - and now I love this as well.
Thanks for writing!