The Divide, part 10
Author: Aerows
Title: Legend of the Seeker - The Divide, part 10
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings:Sex and violence
“You were the one that asked for my help in dealing with this, Cara, so you will have to accept the help that I give you!” The auburn-haired Mord'Sith's blue eyes glowed with anger, just barely restraining the Agiel in her face with her own. Cara shoved hard against it, but Berdine was strong. Undeterred, Cara hooked a foot behind Berdine's ankle and shoved again, landing the voluptuous Mord'Sith on her backside.
Rather than springing up to do battle as Cara was prepared for, Berdine just sheathed her Agiel. “Fine, Cara if you don't want my help, then you can just do it your way.” Berdine rose with a sigh, brushing dust off her brown leathers. She was there in a capacity to teach, and she knew better than any that when a Mord'Sith wasn't interested in learning in a constructive way, there really was little to do but let them come to their own conclusions. Berdine had learned that lesson in humiliating detail.
“You can do this yourself, Consort. Don't ask me again if you aren't ready to hear the answers.” Berdine's voice had none of the characteristic taunting or sly wit to it. Cara abruptly realize that she had pushed the auburn-haired Mord'Sith too far, and that Berdine was completely serious. Berdine could shift with the wind but when she made up her mind, she was as implacable as any Mord'Sith had ever been.
Cara caught her by her brown-leather encased shoulder as her fellow Sister of the Agiel began to stride out of the stone chamber. It didn't surprise her that an Agiel met her wrist, and pain sliced through it. It felt as though Cara's wrist had been severed, but still she hung on. If green fire radiated from her eyes, her legs and her body were steady, betraying nothing of the pain she endured. “Berdine, wait.” Her voice was even; no one but a Mord'Sith would have expected that Cara was extremely close to dropping due to the pain firing along her nerves. Berdine drove the Agiel into the wrist that held her shoulder for a few moments more as a warning, then removed it.
The auburn-haired Mord'Sith sheathed her Agiel again, and turned while running a gloved hand down her face. Despite how it might have sweated had the auburn-haired woman been anything other than Mord'Sith, her face was dry, and Berdine merely used the gesture to allow her brilliant mind time to collect itself. Cara's will was far stronger than any Wizard she had ever controlled, and even stronger than her own. The only person that came close to Cara's will was Nyda, and she doubted that even the middle-aged Mord'Sith could rival the Consort in that department. In fact, the only person Berdine could think of that might rival Cara for will was the Lady Rahl.
Lady Rahl was stubborn, but always with grace. She could convince the stars to fall out of the heavens, and at her discretion. She was wise, and Berdine respected her Lady Rahl for just that reason; if she told the stars to fall from the sky, she would have a good reason for doing so. Cara was just plain stubborn.
She took a deep breath and faced the red-leather clad woman, who now stood at attention, Agiel put away. For all of Cara's expression, they could have been about to either kill or pleasure each other. Nothing showed in the green eyes except a serene determination. Berdine recognized it; it was the look Cara had when she was doing her duty, and would do so at all costs. Anger was still flaring in Berdine, but the resolve in Cara's eyes strengthened her own. Teaching Cara was her own duty, and both the Wizard and the Lady Rahl had made that clear. She didn't have to like it, but she certainly had to do it, and Berdine, like all Mord'Sith, would do hers.
She wasn't about to make it pleasant, though. A chilly smile lit her features and her blue eyes.
A joyless smirk greeted her, and green eyes cold enough to shatter stone accompanied it. Cara sheathed her second Agiel with neither a sigh, nor apology, and faced her again. Without warning, lightning flared in the blond's glove and was hurled at the woman in brown leather. If green eyes widened, blue ones did too, but did the instinctual of grabbing hold of the magic while deflecting it. Grasping Cara's Han was like trying to seize air in a fist, and it eluded Berdine as such. The auburn-haired Mord'Sith's redirection of it, sending it straight back at the blond woman who had unwittingly cast it proved just as strange. Cara sent it back to her as quickly as the lightning had appeared.
Soon it was almost like a children's game; the ball of blue lightning flashed between them like a child's ball, though this one was deadly and seemed to grow with each rebound. Cara pressed hard to make the ball of lightning slip through Berdine's defenses, while Berdine gritted her teeth in a sneer and sent it back in ways that made Cara strain to redirect it. Berdine was far better at deflecting and seizing magic than most Mord'Sith alive, and was clever in approach. As they both started straining, Cara realized that this was getting out of hand. With one final surge, Cara sent the stream of subtractive energy at the wall.
She managed to grab Berdine to pull her away from the falling ceiling and the subsequent collapsing of the stone chamber as the wall vaporized. Dust and debris rained down on them both, and Cara could hear D'Haran troops approaching and shouting orders to contain the blast. Cara lay upon Berdine, catching her breath, for it had taken something out of her to channel the lightning that way, to make it be absorbed by something other than her original target. Berdine's chest heaved also, but the anger in the blue eyes made it clear that the auburn-haired Mord'Sith was both alive and furious.
Standing up on legs that were decidedly fatigued, Cara lowered an arm for Berdine. The Mord'Sith scoffed at the assistance and smacked Cara's hand away. The two of them exited through the gaping hole now created by the collapsed wall. It wouldn't do to have D'Haran troops rescuing Mord'Sith that were training. By the time both women had exited the fallen chamber, they had brushed dust from their leathers and were bristling with dangerous intent, betraying nothing.
“Well, Wizard.” Berdine's voice dripped with sarcasm, “It looks like you know how to touch that Han of yours.” Cara eyed the charred hole where the wall of the chamber had been, and then raked her eye over Berdine from head to toe in a meaningful way.
“Well, Mistress Berdine, why didn't you seize control over it before it got to that point? That was the entire reason for this little exercise.” While internally she wanted to shudder over the fact that she had done exactly the last thing she had ever aspired to do, and created magic, Cara refused to give Berdine the satisfaction. The auburn-haired Mord'Sith looked rather pale to Cara's eye. “Losing your touch, Sister?” She said it with a tiny grin that she really didn't feel. Truth be told, she felt rather queasy every time she glanced at the gaping hole in the stone she had caused.
Blue eyes evaded her glance for a moment, eying the molten rubble, then returned with a vengeance. “I couldn't. You might as well have been the Lord Rahl for all that I tried to hold it.” It was said quietly, and nearly reverently. Both women took deep breaths and fell silent for a time. Cara stared at her hands, while Berdine looked off in the distance. It was only the sound of footsteps that brought both of them to see the approaching figures.
“Well, it appears something got accomplished.” Raina's sarcastic comment pierced the air as she approached them both, standing to Berdine's right. Dark eyes took in the scene, and the pallor on both her lover and Cara's faces.
“Cara, are you alright?” At that moment, upon hearing Kahlan's soft, concerned voice, Cara wanted to disappear like the stone wall she had destroyed. It almost felt like defeat that not only could she make magic, she had unwittingly done so and to disastrous effect. The blue eyes of her wife gazing at her with worry did little to calm her. When a gentle hand touched her cheek, Cara nearly staggered. She felt as though she had run a dozen leagues carrying a horse. Through sheer Mord'Sith obstinacy, she remained upright, but the Mother Confessor missed very little.
Without another word, Kahlan took the gloved hand in her own, and dragged her along back to their tent. Raina and Berdine followed along, but Cara couldn't be bothered to assess them. Her stomach rumbled loudly, but the Mother Confessor feigned not to hear, or chose not to acknowledge it if she did. Everything in Cara's being wanted to protest being lead along like a child, and while she managed to draw up close enough to her wife that it appeared they were out for a stroll, the truth was that it was only Kahlan's hand in her own that kept her moving.
Quiet commands were issued around her as she entered their tent, but Cara felt like she was moving in a fog. When strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her down onto the cot, only then did she close her eyes and shudder into the scent of the only person in the world who would ever see her weak. They sat like that for long moments until a generous tray of dinner arrived.
Tired as she was, Cara forced herself to eat while the Mother Confessor gently discussed her day, avoiding all discussion of magic. The Mord'Sith was profoundly grateful and consumed more of the meal than usual. When Kahlan undid the laces at her neck and back, she didn't protest. As soon as her body fell into the cot naked, Cara was taken by a deep, dreamless slumber.
* * *
“I wish to see this witch's son.” Lady Rahl's voice reverberated around the stone like the ocean against rock, and as inexorably. In that moment, Berdine foolishly wished for Raina's hand to hold. Raina was caring for Cara, the Consort, of course, and would have berated her for her foolishness. Still, it frightened her. Something was rising within her, and all of the Mord'Sith since they had become attuned to their Lady's bond.
“You will see nothing but a short death, Kahlan Amnell.” Crossbow bolts flew at Lady Rahl, and suddenly Berdine considered that this was the worst plan she had ever been a part of. Her fists shot out to stop one of the arrows, but blue lightning shot out to consume the bolts like chaff in the wind. She was stunned for a moment; her Lady Rahl was still standing. Kahlan gripped the messenger by the throat.
“I wish to meet with this Witch's son, but it will be on my terms.” Her voice sounded like hammers on anvils, and scythes cutting wheat in the field. His eyes didn't turn black from Confession, but they did turn black in fear. When the man's face turned red to the point of strangulation, Berdine cleared her throat and put a hand on her Lady Rahl's arm. There truly was no reason for her to exert herself, when there were plenty of men and women that would do it in her name.
Kahlan released her grip, even as she faded back to the face of the Mother Confessor. If there was a supposed Emissary of the Order, Kahlan Amnell, Lady Rahl and Mother Confessor would confront him. She would do so when she held ground, not when she had been attacked. Berdine privately marveled that the Lady Rahl had managed to orchestrate this while the Consort was not present. She flickered an eyebrow at her Lady; clearly she was no infant at politics.
“This meeting is concluded, and you can be certain that the next time we meet, Old World politics will not be the rule of the day.” The Lady Rahl paused for a moment, and then offered a smile that would have done the best Mord'Sith proud. “You will come to us, Regent Baynard. I will be civil, as I have always demonstrated myself to be. You will be treated exactly as civilly as you show yourself.” If the Regent paled, Lady Rahl did nothing more than mount her horse with the consummate grace of a skilled rider. Berdine felt a wash of pride flow in her; her Lady Rahl would always do for herself, and would look to no one to prop her up artificially.