Fic: Retreat (Legend of the Seeker)
Title: Fic That Is Very Short and Undeserving of a Proper Title Retreat
Author: Caroline (altlivia )
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan (implied)
Rating: T
Summary: Takes place during S02E20 "Eternity". Inside Cara's mind while she's being retrained by Darken Rahl.
A/N: In the middle of the night, my silly and craptastic muse decided this is going to be a 3-part thing, with titles and everything. So, onwards to part 1!
He’s right - she has gone soft. When the pain comes searing past her skin and muscle into the very bones beneath, she retreats to a better place. But she can only be described as a very bad Mord’Sith as her thoughts skip right past Lord Rahl - the man she’s fought for, bled for, and even (just once) died for - to her. Kahlan. Cara was perfect before Kahlan came along. She was proud, courageous, and merciless - everything a Mord’Sith should be. She was trained to be untouchable and unwavering. But she flinched.
The sisterhood of the agiel had given her everything. Since she was a small girl, they had fed her, given her a place to sleep, bathed her, fucked her, trained her to be a better warrior. They were the closest things she had to a family or friends. Lovers, even. With Kahlan, it was different. She was softer where it counted the most but she could be every bit the fighter a Mord’Sith could be. Reason, compassion, and a healthy, volatile rage coexisted together; suspended beneath the surface and reflecting back each time Cara stole a glance into the Confessor’s calm, azure eyes.
“Leave me alone with her.” Darken Rahl commands, snapping Cara out of her reverie in time to see the other Mord’Sith (once-upon-a-time friends, lovers, family) smirk and sheath their agiels before stalking quietly out of the room. She feels her tendons -- stretched raw -- sway back and forth, the muscles jerking to life as her toes encounter the cold, stone floor. He’s lowered her now, and her weight rolls painfully around her ankle as she struggles to feel her limbs again to regain footing. She lets out an almost inaudible gasp of pain as she feels a joint in her ankle snap.
“Cara, you were always my favourite. You always made me so proud,” He starts, stepping closer to her and cupping her cheek with his hand. His touch scorches her skin, and Cara doesn’t know if it’s magic or if her mind only pretends. His lips ghost over her exposed neck, and she winces in pain as he scrapes his incisors over the open wounds he finds there. She tries to leave again -- to think of Kahlan’s touch, her smile, the smell of her hair-- but it’s impossible. Her memories are clouded as Rahl brings the agiel in his hands to Cara’s jaw. Her eyes squeeze shut.
There’s a brief lapse in pain, and soon Rahl’s lips capture her own. She doesn’t think - doesn’t need to - as she immediately clamps down her teeth, not satisfied until she tastes his flesh and hot blood dribbles out of the corner of her mouth. He jerks away (faster than he intended) and runs a finger along his bottom lip. Cara indignantly smiles.
“I thought you’d surely prefer a moment of pleasure,” he runs his blood-soaked finger down her heaving chest before coming to rest at the hollow of her breasts, “rather than the pain of the agiel, Cara.”
She gathers what little moisture she has in her mouth (along with the faint tinge of Rahl’s blood) and spits in his eye, for the second time today.
“I’ll take the pain.”
Maybe she hasn't gone so soft after all.
Author: Caroline (altlivia )
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan (implied)
Rating: T
Summary: Takes place during S02E20 "Eternity". Inside Cara's mind while she's being retrained by Darken Rahl.
A/N: In the middle of the night, my silly and craptastic muse decided this is going to be a 3-part thing, with titles and everything. So, onwards to part 1!
He’s right - she has gone soft. When the pain comes searing past her skin and muscle into the very bones beneath, she retreats to a better place. But she can only be described as a very bad Mord’Sith as her thoughts skip right past Lord Rahl - the man she’s fought for, bled for, and even (just once) died for - to her. Kahlan. Cara was perfect before Kahlan came along. She was proud, courageous, and merciless - everything a Mord’Sith should be. She was trained to be untouchable and unwavering. But she flinched.
The sisterhood of the agiel had given her everything. Since she was a small girl, they had fed her, given her a place to sleep, bathed her, fucked her, trained her to be a better warrior. They were the closest things she had to a family or friends. Lovers, even. With Kahlan, it was different. She was softer where it counted the most but she could be every bit the fighter a Mord’Sith could be. Reason, compassion, and a healthy, volatile rage coexisted together; suspended beneath the surface and reflecting back each time Cara stole a glance into the Confessor’s calm, azure eyes.
“Leave me alone with her.” Darken Rahl commands, snapping Cara out of her reverie in time to see the other Mord’Sith (once-upon-a-time friends, lovers, family) smirk and sheath their agiels before stalking quietly out of the room. She feels her tendons -- stretched raw -- sway back and forth, the muscles jerking to life as her toes encounter the cold, stone floor. He’s lowered her now, and her weight rolls painfully around her ankle as she struggles to feel her limbs again to regain footing. She lets out an almost inaudible gasp of pain as she feels a joint in her ankle snap.
“Cara, you were always my favourite. You always made me so proud,” He starts, stepping closer to her and cupping her cheek with his hand. His touch scorches her skin, and Cara doesn’t know if it’s magic or if her mind only pretends. His lips ghost over her exposed neck, and she winces in pain as he scrapes his incisors over the open wounds he finds there. She tries to leave again -- to think of Kahlan’s touch, her smile, the smell of her hair-- but it’s impossible. Her memories are clouded as Rahl brings the agiel in his hands to Cara’s jaw. Her eyes squeeze shut.
There’s a brief lapse in pain, and soon Rahl’s lips capture her own. She doesn’t think - doesn’t need to - as she immediately clamps down her teeth, not satisfied until she tastes his flesh and hot blood dribbles out of the corner of her mouth. He jerks away (faster than he intended) and runs a finger along his bottom lip. Cara indignantly smiles.
“I thought you’d surely prefer a moment of pleasure,” he runs his blood-soaked finger down her heaving chest before coming to rest at the hollow of her breasts, “rather than the pain of the agiel, Cara.”
She gathers what little moisture she has in her mouth (along with the faint tinge of Rahl’s blood) and spits in his eye, for the second time today.
“I’ll take the pain.”
Maybe she hasn't gone so soft after all.