I Will Not Surrender - Part I. The Lovers (1/11)
Title: I Will Not Surrender - Part I. The Lovers (1/11)
Author: burning_arrow
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R/NC-17 (varies by chapter and I’m not going to rate each one)
Warnings: major character death (but fear not for our heroines)
Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own these characters. If I did, don’t you think things would have gone a bit differently? My muse thanks Terry Goodkind and ABC for giving her such good fodder though.
Word Count: 4,935
Summary: Takes place several years after Tears. Kahlan rules over D’Hara and the Midlands, with Cara at her side, but behind the tentative peace lies a new threat. Part I.: Cara can’t shake the feeling that things are not quite as they should be - in many ways.
A/N: This is mostly grounded in the LOTS TV series canon, but borrows occasionally from the books where convenient. It also involves major characters of my own invention. If you don’t like this kind of mix and match please don’t read.
Part I. The Lovers
Cara remembers that day, when she was on bended knee before Kahlan Amnell, head bowed, hollowed out by fear, exhaustion and grief. She remembers the gasps around her as she entered the Mother Confessor’s Great Hall in Aydindril; how in spite of the deep slash in her side that burned, showing red and angry through her torn leathers, she had managed to hold her back straight and her head high as she somehow put one foot in front of the other. She remembers placing the Sword of Truth at the Mother Confessor’s feet, laying out her failure plainly for all to see.
She remembers that it was not the Lady Rahl who went nearly mad at the news of her Lord’s death, but the First Wizard. She placed her agiels on the floor alongside the Sword of Truth and waited for Zedd’s fire. He had nearly done it too, one long hand outstretched towards Cara, face contorted in fury and pain, but then her eyes caught his, and he knew her guilt and sorrow were already burning her alive.
She remembers that she was not afraid to die, but she was too frightened to look at Kahlan, standing so silent and still before the First Chair, like a statue carved from marble, cloaked in flowing white. She could not bear the recrimination she knew must be in those icy blue eyes. She had failed completely and utterly. Her Lord was dead, the Seeker lost, her friend was gone, and his wife and his grandfather were betrayed by her incompetence. She remembers wishing Kahlan would simply confess her and be done with it - so much better than the false calm. Then she remembers that Kahlan did the most unexpected thing. Without a word she approached the Mord’Sith and laid a warm, steady hand upon Cara’s bowed head. The Mother Confessor had no reason to extend her kindness, yet Kahlan gave it freely. She laid a hand upon Cara’s head and Cara trembled.
There was no way to know then that a mere year later Cara would be trembling under her touch yet again. This time Kahlan’s hand rested soft and relaxed on the amber skin of Cara’s chest, Kahlan’s unclothed body tucked tight against Cara’s naked side. Kahlan’s head was nestled on Cara’s shoulder, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, her thick, luxurious hair spilling over the arm that Cara wrapped around her protectively. Cara lay on her back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling while the wan early morning sunlight of winter filtered through the southern windows. Her mind ordered her body to be quiet so she would not wake Kahlan, but her body would not comply. She trembled at the sensation of the other woman’s body pressed so close to her own and at the press of her own heart against her ribcage. The Mord’Sith was still not used to the powerful emotions that Mother Confessor evoked in her. And today it was not just love that swelled in her heart, but also sorrow for that day that ultimately brought them together. For today was that day. A year later, but that day none the less. Cara’s scar, stretched from armpit to hip, burned with the memory. She would have been tempted to rub it if it were not trapped under Kahlan’s body.
Cara was surprised when she felt the hot prickle of unshed tears stinging her eyes. Mord’Sith do not cry. The last time Cara cried was as child being broken by the Mord’Sith as they turned her into one of their own. At least that was the last time - until that day one year ago. When Kahlan had placed that hand on her head, Cara’s resolve had momentarily shattered. Kahlan’s compassion had undone her in ways that no amount of pain or cruelty or deprivation could. She had broken down, sobs wrenched unwillingly from her throat while her body was wracked with all that had become too much to bear. She was on both knees by then and she was doubled over, her forehead touching the cold granite floor. Then she had done something that was almost as un-Mord’Sith-like as bawling like a child - she passed out.
For a brief moment, the corners of Cara’s mouth turned upward at the memory, though she could still feel her mutinous eyes brimming. What a sight she must have been, Cara thought ruefully. Had the rest of that day not been so tragic the humiliation of collapsing like some swooning countess on a hot summer’s eve would have been almost humorous - almost. The half-smile slowly faded, but Cara pressed her free hand to her to her eyelids. The distraction was enough to push the tears away. She sighed.
“Good morning.”
Cara looked half-startled at the clear blue eyes that met her own. Kahlan had awoken and somehow she had not noticed. Kahlan’s pale skin was smooth and free from worry, but the thin straight line of her mouth was not her usual morning smile.
“Good morning,” Cara croaked. She cursed her voice for betraying her. With a bit more effort, she asked in a steadier tone, ”Did you sleep well?”
“Always,” replied Kahlan. At last the beginnings of a smile crept onto the Confessor’s face, but her intense eyes bored into Cara’s. “Apparently you didn’t, though. Care to share what’s going on behind those beautiful but clearly tired eyes of yours?”
Cara remained silent for a long minute. Her eyes returned to the ceiling as she mulled over her next words. She could not lie to Kahlan, yet she struggled to share her more intimate thoughts, even with her lover. Perhaps it would always be difficult after so many years of silence, but Kahlan had showed her that it was worth the effort.
Finally she spoke. “I miss Richard.”
***
Kahlan had not expected that. A little stunned she said, “I miss him too.”
These days it was not often that Kahlan thought of her one-time husband and friend. The ravaging pain that had torn through her when she had heard of his death had dulled to a subtle ache with time and now, more often than not, she could remember his warm brown eyes and broad smile with fondness and without the sharp twinge afterward. She knew today would be difficult, but she had no idea that Cara would acknowledge it like this. Cara’s inflection had been flat, but even uttering the words was an act full of meaning. They really had come a long way over the last year.
Cara stiffened next to her. Kahlan sighed. So maybe they had further to go.
“Do you…” Cara’s voice faltered. She shifted as if to move away from Kahlan. Kahlan moved her hand from the Mord’Sith’s chest to grasp her hip with a firm grip. She pulled Cara closer to her, resisting the tension in Cara’s body.
“Cara.”
Cara stilled at the commanding tone in Kahlan’s voice, but she would not look at her. She turned her head away from Kahlan, her blond hair falling across her face, completely shielding her eyes from the Confessor’s gaze. Confessors could not read the truth in a Mord’Sith’s eyes as they could with other people, but with Kahlan Cara still seemed to turn away when emotions ran too high, as if her every thought and feeling were transparent.
“Cara,” Kahlan said again, her tone softening. “Please, love.”
Cara refused to turn towards Kahlan and her response was barely a whisper. “Do you wish he were still here?”
Kahlan heard the unspoken questions. Do you wish it was me that died that day, not him? Do you wish it was him in your bed and not me? The unsaid drove any last vestiges of sleepiness from the Confessor. She bolted upright. In an instant she had straddled the blonde’s hips and grabbed her chin with a firm hand, forcing Cara’s face towards her own.
“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice taking on the imperious tone of the Mother Confessor of the Midlands and the Lady Rahl of D’Hara. Cara’s eyes snapped to her own without hesitation. In matters of the heart Cara might be reticent, but she was always obedient to her Lady. Now that she had Cara’s attention Kahlan allowed herself to relax slightly.
“Do I miss Richard? Yes. Do I wish he was alive today? Yes. Did I love him and do I love him still? Yes. He was my husband, lover and friend and one of the most generous and gentle souls I have ever met.” Kahlan could feel Cara stiffen underneath her again and she brought her face closer to Cara’s, almost menacingly. “But you need to get it through that incredibly thick, stubborn head of yours that I love you. I don’t spend my days pining for what I’ve lost, wondering what might have been. Richard is gone and the Creator has seen fit to send me real love again. It’s you who I choose to be by my side, and you’re a fool if you think otherwise.”
Before Cara could respond, Kahlan closed the distance between them, fiercely taking Cara’s mouth in her own. The kiss stole the breath from both of them as Kahlan’s tongue forced its way past Cara’s full lips. Cara growled deep in her throat. Kahlan knew this was a language that Cara understood.
Cara’s hands grasped Kahlan’s hips, pulling Kahlan tight against her body and she began to rock her own hips, her stomach arching against Kahlan’s mound. Kahlan moaned loudly as she drew back from the kiss. She straightened up and she pulled Cara up with her, one hand grasping Cara’s shoulder, the other buried in the hair at the base of Cara’s neck. For a brief second Kahlan soaked in the sight of the Mord’Sith looking up at her with those heavy-lidded eyes, pale green turned rich emerald with desire. Kahlan bit her lower lip in anticipation. The next moment Cara took one of Kahlan’s breasts in her mouth, and Kahlan could feel Cara’s warm tongue swirling over the pebbled skin of her nipple. Kahlan gasped as Cara wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer while Cara’s other hand found her unattended breast. Waves of desire rolled through the Confessor, the pressure between her legs building.
The knock at the door sounded like a sharp crack, though Kahlan knew it wasn’t really more than a quiet tap. Cara cursed incomprehensibly, her mouth still buried in Kahlan’s breast.
“Yes?” barked Kahlan, more harshly than she intended. “What is it?”
A timid voice replied from the other side of the door, “Mother Confessor, you asked to be awakened by the second candlemark after sunrise for the ceremonies.”
“So I did.” She sighed. Answering a little louder, “I will be there in a moment. See to it that the kitchen sends tea and fruit to my drawing room.”
“Right away, my Lady.” Kahlan and Cara could hear the light steps of the chamber maid making a hasty retreat away from the door. With a single finger under Cara’s chin, Kahlan tilted Cara’s head up, away from her sensitive nipple. Cara’s green eyes shown up at her with a mixture of lust, mischief and love - and disappointment. With a hand flat on Cara’s chest she gave the Mord’Sith a playful shove back onto the bed.
“Don’t look at me that way.” She couldn’t help smiling at Cara, even as she scolded her. “You know today is important and when you look at me that way I start to forget my obligations. Though I wish I could spend the rest of the morning here, the people of D’Hara and Aydindril both need this day.”
Adding in a more subdued voice, “And maybe you and I need it, too.”
“Perhaps,” conceded Cara gruffly. Kahlan planted a quick but firm kiss on her lips and slid off the Mord'Sith's lap and out of the bed.
***
Cara felt the winter’s cold air rush in where Kahlan’s body had been and she shivered. As much as Cara wanted to disagree with Kahlan, she couldn’t. One of the most prescient acts Richard had carried out before his murder was to magically pass on to Kahlan part of his blood bond with the D’Haran people. He knew he might not always be around and if he died before producing an heir, the bond would be broken. The inevitable chaos would almost ensure that D’Hara and the Midlands would again be at war. In fact, his enemies had been counting on it when they trapped and killed him that day in that snowy pass on his way back to Aydindril from the People’s Palace. Much to their short-lived surprise the bond did not break - short-lived because the bond was also the source of power in Cara’s agiels. When Richard fell, the fire and pain still crackled and hummed along her agiels while she struck each one down in turn. Five men succumbed to the touch of the agiel, but still Richard could not be saved. Even the Breath of Life could not bring him back.
Today was to be both memorial and celebration of Richard’s short rule. The D’Haran people needed to feel their bond renewed with their Lady even as they mourned the loss of their Lord, while the Midlanders needed to celebrate the life of the Seeker that had delivered them from tyranny and brought back to them the Mother Confessor. The peace was still tenuous after so many decades of strife and the two lands needed their Mistress to bring them together once again. Even Kahlan needed to remember and honor the man who had been her life for five years. But what did Cara need? How to reconcile the fact that while his friendship had given her so much, his death had given her so much more?
Cara rose, her reflections making her uneasy, but they dressed quietly, the Mother Confessor humming softly to herself. Cara allowed Kahlan to help her with the bindings on her leathers, and she gently helped Kahlan into her black under skirt and corset, and then into the pure white Confessor’s gown. Her mind drifted again as she tightened the lacings of Kahlan’s dress, but Kahlan must have noticed the faraway look in her eyes. Kahlan laid a tender hand on Cara’s cheek.
“I’m sure Richard would want us to go on living our lives, Cara. He would not deny us our happiness,” Kahlan said with certainty.
Cara did not reply, and Kahlan, for once, let the Mord’Sith have her silence. Instead, Kahlan leaned in and her lips brushed Cara’s soothingly. She lingered for a few seconds, then drew back. She gave Cara a last wistful look. Then, setting her shoulders back and her head high, she became the Mother Confessor.
“I have a few affairs to attend to before the morning ceremony. I want you to be by my side before the ceremony starts.”
“Of course, my Lady.”
Kahlan turned to go without a glance back, but her fingers held Cara’s until their arms could no longer reach. She would always be the Mother Confessor, but she needed Cara to know that she was also always Kahlan.
Cara stood alone in the empty room, her eyes travelling over the familiar surroundings. While she surveyed the bed that Kahlan and she had shared for close to six months now her eyes fell on the Rada’Han on the nightstand. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand, as if examining it for the first time. So cold and ugly, yet Kahlan insisted on wearing it every time they made love, lest her magic be released and kill Cara. Cara’s grip tightened around it, the edges of the enchanted steel biting into her hand even through her leather gloves. Her face contorted for a second, and then she dropped the collar heavily onto the top of the nightstand. It landed with a solid, dead thunk. Kahlan may love her, but she knew Richard and Kahlan had never had to use the Rada’Han to be together.
The next moment Cara was striding out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Her face was a cold, tight mask, unreadable and intimidating. The guards outside the ante room blanched at the sight of her but she seemed to take no notice of them. She might not understand the fickle ways of love, but she still understood her duty to the Lady Rahl. So she would do as she had always done - she would serve her Mistress.
***
The day passed quickly, far quicker than Cara would have anticipated. She stood just behind Kahlan, silent and stoic, but always within Kahlan’s reach. They exchanged no words, but they were always aware of each other. When one moved so did the other. Cara was the perfect shadow. Every now and then, between ceremonies or when there was a brief pause between the long stream of people clamoring to see the Mother Confessor, Kahlan would spare her a quick glance. Their eyes would lock and though Cara’s face registered no emotion, her heart would flutter a little in her chest and she was sure Kahlan knew. Once, after the morning ceremony in which Kahlan had given a long speech about the many accomplishments of Richard Cypher Rahl to the pilgrims massed outside the Palace, they had found themselves alone in the Great Hall. Kahlan’s shoulders slumped and she reached a shaky hand out, a hand Cara caught immediately. Soundless tears streamed down Kahlan’s cheeks and she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace by the Mord’Sith. Gathering her strength, Kahlan rested her forehead on the cool, red leather stretched across her lover’s chest. A minute later as the first nobleman wishing to pay his respects entered, she sat upon the First Chair regal and gracious, Cara standing at attention beside her as if nothing had passed between them.
Cara did not cry. She did not think. Her whole being was focused on the Mother Confessor. Days like this unnerved her more than most, when the Lady Rahl insisted on being among her people. Kahlan was never one to stay removed from those she led, but it made protecting her very difficult. Cara watched for any signs of trouble - her eyes constantly roaming from face to face, hand resting lightly on the hilt of her agiel - though there was none to find today.
***
Eventually the evening bells tolled, the last prayers and devotions were said, and the final remembrances made. The Great Hall cleared. After hour upon hour of people coming and going, Kahlan’s ears actually rang from the silence. Kahlan watched as her guardian cautiously checked each entrance to make sure it was secure before returning to the throne. Cara was always fastidious in her duties and though she was sure the Mord’Sith was exhausted from constant vigilance, she showed no sign of wearying. Kahlan’s breath caught in her chest when Cara’s eyes turned towards hers. Kahlan was always surprised how Cara’s eyes could transform from dead flat to untamed passion in an instant. Though her own throat was sore from overuse, she began to speak, but Cara simply placed a finger on her lips to quiet her.
“Come with me,” Cara said in a low tone.
Kahlan let Cara lead her back to their chambers, through the ante room and into the bed chamber, Cara’s hand always at the small of Kahlan’s back, guiding her. She poured Kahlan a glass of water from the jug on the small washstand near the window and Kahlan drank it down greedily, the cool snowmelt soothing her raw throat. Kahlan watched as Cara stoked the fire against the winter chill, her eyes playing over Cara’s strong back and shoulders while the Mord’Sith bent over the flames. She still had not said a word to this beautiful woman since leaving the room in the morning. So many times during the day she had desperately wanted to turn to Cara and beg her to carry her away, instead of being forced to share such private pain in such a public way. Cara, who always stood by, uncomplaining and unrelenting in her duty. Cara, who found little ways to show Kahlan that duty was not all that motivated her, whether it was the tea that showed up before she asked for it or the warm cloak that appeared just as she was getting a chill. But she was the Mother Confessor and today her people had needed the comfort of ritual more than she had needed her lover. Now, however, when she could finally speak to the one who she needed the most, her voice failed her.
Instead she crossed the room and wrapped Cara in a tight embrace. Standing, Kahlan was a few inches taller than Cara and she placed fleeting kisses across Cara’s forehead and eyelids, then dipped her head lower to capture Cara’s mouth. She felt Cara’s arms encircle her and she was crushed against Cara’s body. They explored each other’s lips and tongues, first gingerly, then with more fervor. Kahlan kissed Cara almost desperately, struggling to convey the need she had for the Mord’Sith.
***
Cara was the first to break the kiss in order to catch her breath. Before she could take a second breath, Kahlan’s hungry lips were on her again. She grunted at the wild way in which Kahlan caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit down.
Kahlan’s hands were soon at the fastenings on her leather, tugging viciously. Cara was surprised by the aggression in Kahlan’s actions, but that simply made them all the more arousing. By the time her leather was off and Kahlan’s dress lay next to it, pools of red and white mixing together, Cara could feel the wetness between her own thighs. Kahlan’s mouth devoured her own as she shoved Cara backwards toward the bed. They toppled together onto the furs covering the bed, limbs entwined, panting. Kahlan made her way down Cara’s body, nipping and sucking, taking first one, then the other of Cara’s nipples in her mouth. Cara moaned under Kahlan’s attentions and arched up, closing the distance between their bodies.
Kahlan’s fingers raked roughly down her sides across her ribs. Then Kahlan did something she had never done before - she began to kiss and lick her way down the scar on Cara’s side. Though the tissue should have been deadened from the damage, Cara found that her skin was exquisitely, almost painfully sensitive. Kahlan’s kisses sent electric shocks coursing through her, and the lapping of Kahlan’s tongue gave her goosebumps all over her body. She gasped at the sensation.
Kahlan drew back in alarm. “Did I hurt you?”
Cara vigorously shook her head no. She curled her fingers in Kahlan’s rich brown hair and guided her back to the scar. Kahlan understood her silent plea and began to kiss again where she had left off. Cara’s body quivered under her tongue and Cara’s breath came in short, shuddering gasps. Cara’s eyes were squeezed shut and her brow was knitted together as she focused on the hot line of ecstasy being traced along her skin.
***
Kahlan had never seen the Mord’Sith like this. True Cara was a sensual and skilled lover, but that was common to all Mord’Sith. Nor was Cara unfamiliar with receiving pleasure from Kahlan, had at times even demanded it, but tonight was something altogether different. Cara’s carefully contrived control seemed to be slipping. Kahlan wondered if Cara was even aware of it.
Kahlan’s mouth and tongue traveled lower and began to make their way across the ridge of Cara’s hip, which bucked with urgency. Cara’s legs opened wide at the subtle pressure of her hand, and Kahlan absorbed the sight and smell of Cara’s glistening sex, a wicked, sharp smile spreading across her face. Kahlan traced one long finger through Cara’s folds and Cara groaned at the contact.
“Kahlan, wait - please.” The tentative, almost timid tone in Cara’s voice brought Kahlan up short, her mouth mere inches from Cara’s clit. Did she actually just say “please”? Kahlan could see arousal mixed with something else, something new, in Cara’s green eyes as she stared down at Kahlan. The muscles in Cara’s jaw clenched and unclenched as if she was trying to force her words out.
“I want…,” Cara hesitated. “I want us to be together - at the same time.”
Kahlan’s heart melted at the sight of Cara struggling to ask for what she desired. The request itself was so simple, but the act of making it so difficult for the Mord’Sith. Take and be taken was all that Cara had known for so long that asking for something made her incredibly vulnerable.
“Of course,” Kahlan replied soothingly.
Kahlan stretched her body atop Cara’s, their breasts crushing together. She kissed Cara slowly, deliberately, almost solemnly. Then she reached for the Rada’Han.
Cara’s hand gripped her wrist, holding her back. Her face was grim. “I hate that thing.”
“I know, Cara. But you know we can’t without it. I can’t. Your life is too high a price to pay for one moment’s pleasure.” Kahlan’s voice was firm, but there was a soft, pleading undertone.
Cara grunted an indecipherable reply, but let Kahlan’s hand go. The heavy plain steel was cold as Kahlan placed it around her neck, the lock snapping shut with a faint click. She could feel the tingle of its magic counteracting her own, its presence always so alien no matter how many times she wore it. Yet she would never endanger Cara’s well-being out of pure selfishness.
She sat back, straddling Cara’s legs, leaving just enough room for Cara’s thighs to admit her hand. With a devilish grin Kahlan reached down and slid her fingers over and past Cara’s clit and teased at Cara’s opening.
“Now to finish what I started.”
***
Cara moaned loudly as Kahlan entered her with two fingers, soon adding a third. Cara allowed herself to enjoy Kahlan’s rhythm for half a minute, the slow, deep strokes matching the swaying of her hips. The heel of Kahlan’s hand rubbed deliciously over her clit. Then Cara reached for her lover.
Cara found Kahlan already soaked with desire. While she deftly rolled and caressed the hard peak of Kahlan’s arousal with one hand, the fingers of her other found easy entry into Kahlan’s inviting, warm depth. The ripple of Kahlan’s smooth muscles clenching down on her fingers caused her own sex to tighten involuntarily and her hips bucked more wildly. She watched Kahlan with ravenous delight, whose eyes were closed, head thrown back, her breasts quivering as she took Cara inside of her.
Moans filled the air, growing louder and more urgent and Cara couldn’t tell if they were Kahlan’s or her own. She could feel the exquisite pressure building between her legs and arcing along her spine. Her vision began to narrow and she could feel herself slipping over the edge, but she forced herself to focus on the demands of Kahlan’s body. Kahlan’s release was so close. Suddenly Kahlan’s eyes were fixed on Cara’s and there was a moment when the world froze around them just before Kahlan’s eyes snapped shut again and the Confessor let go in a hoarse shout. Cara came at the same instant, her muscles squeezing tightly around Kahlan’s fingers. All she could feel were her own sweet contractions being matched by those of Kahlan’s. All her senses were filled with Kahlan’s presence.
***
Later that night, Cara lay in Kahlan’s arms, the Confessor’s front pressed to her back, her warm breath brushing the skin on the back of Cara’s neck. Kahlan had been asleep for hours, exhausted by the twin exertions of her grueling day and their evening of love-making. Cara knew she should be asleep, too. Her body ached for rest but her mind would not let her. She grimaced in the dark as her eyes went yet again to the Rada’Han on the nightstand, glistening faintly in the moonlight that filtered through the windows. It chafed Cara more each time Kahlan wore it, resentment gnawing and twisting in her gut. She couldn’t quite explain it to herself - she knew the dangers to herself, she knew Kahlan was only trying to protect her - but her discontent continued to grow. Normally she would have been very satisfied with the way Kahlan responded to her attentions; in fact Kahlan’s enthusiasm was greater than that of most of the women and men she had bedded before. But Kahlan was no mere woman and Cara knew she wanted to feel Kahlan’s power running through her.
As if her consternation over the Mother Confessor weren’t enough to keep her up, another very, different problem niggled at the back of her mind. There was one person Cara hadn’t seen today, one who should have been there most of all. Zedd. Zedd and she had made their peace in the months after Richard’s death, but he had never been as kind and welcoming as he had once been. Still on a day like today the absence of the First Wizard beside the Mother Confessor was conspicuous. She hoped that he had simply been overcome by the day. After all, Cara and Kahlan had each other, but whom did Zedd turn to when the loss of his grandson haunted him? She drew Kahlan’s arm around her more tightly and resolved that she would check in on the old wizard with the new day.
Part II
Author: burning_arrow
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R/NC-17 (varies by chapter and I’m not going to rate each one)
Warnings: major character death (but fear not for our heroines)
Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own these characters. If I did, don’t you think things would have gone a bit differently? My muse thanks Terry Goodkind and ABC for giving her such good fodder though.
Word Count: 4,935
Summary: Takes place several years after Tears. Kahlan rules over D’Hara and the Midlands, with Cara at her side, but behind the tentative peace lies a new threat. Part I.: Cara can’t shake the feeling that things are not quite as they should be - in many ways.
A/N: This is mostly grounded in the LOTS TV series canon, but borrows occasionally from the books where convenient. It also involves major characters of my own invention. If you don’t like this kind of mix and match please don’t read.
Part I. The Lovers
Cara remembers that day, when she was on bended knee before Kahlan Amnell, head bowed, hollowed out by fear, exhaustion and grief. She remembers the gasps around her as she entered the Mother Confessor’s Great Hall in Aydindril; how in spite of the deep slash in her side that burned, showing red and angry through her torn leathers, she had managed to hold her back straight and her head high as she somehow put one foot in front of the other. She remembers placing the Sword of Truth at the Mother Confessor’s feet, laying out her failure plainly for all to see.
She remembers that it was not the Lady Rahl who went nearly mad at the news of her Lord’s death, but the First Wizard. She placed her agiels on the floor alongside the Sword of Truth and waited for Zedd’s fire. He had nearly done it too, one long hand outstretched towards Cara, face contorted in fury and pain, but then her eyes caught his, and he knew her guilt and sorrow were already burning her alive.
She remembers that she was not afraid to die, but she was too frightened to look at Kahlan, standing so silent and still before the First Chair, like a statue carved from marble, cloaked in flowing white. She could not bear the recrimination she knew must be in those icy blue eyes. She had failed completely and utterly. Her Lord was dead, the Seeker lost, her friend was gone, and his wife and his grandfather were betrayed by her incompetence. She remembers wishing Kahlan would simply confess her and be done with it - so much better than the false calm. Then she remembers that Kahlan did the most unexpected thing. Without a word she approached the Mord’Sith and laid a warm, steady hand upon Cara’s bowed head. The Mother Confessor had no reason to extend her kindness, yet Kahlan gave it freely. She laid a hand upon Cara’s head and Cara trembled.
There was no way to know then that a mere year later Cara would be trembling under her touch yet again. This time Kahlan’s hand rested soft and relaxed on the amber skin of Cara’s chest, Kahlan’s unclothed body tucked tight against Cara’s naked side. Kahlan’s head was nestled on Cara’s shoulder, her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, her thick, luxurious hair spilling over the arm that Cara wrapped around her protectively. Cara lay on her back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling while the wan early morning sunlight of winter filtered through the southern windows. Her mind ordered her body to be quiet so she would not wake Kahlan, but her body would not comply. She trembled at the sensation of the other woman’s body pressed so close to her own and at the press of her own heart against her ribcage. The Mord’Sith was still not used to the powerful emotions that Mother Confessor evoked in her. And today it was not just love that swelled in her heart, but also sorrow for that day that ultimately brought them together. For today was that day. A year later, but that day none the less. Cara’s scar, stretched from armpit to hip, burned with the memory. She would have been tempted to rub it if it were not trapped under Kahlan’s body.
Cara was surprised when she felt the hot prickle of unshed tears stinging her eyes. Mord’Sith do not cry. The last time Cara cried was as child being broken by the Mord’Sith as they turned her into one of their own. At least that was the last time - until that day one year ago. When Kahlan had placed that hand on her head, Cara’s resolve had momentarily shattered. Kahlan’s compassion had undone her in ways that no amount of pain or cruelty or deprivation could. She had broken down, sobs wrenched unwillingly from her throat while her body was wracked with all that had become too much to bear. She was on both knees by then and she was doubled over, her forehead touching the cold granite floor. Then she had done something that was almost as un-Mord’Sith-like as bawling like a child - she passed out.
For a brief moment, the corners of Cara’s mouth turned upward at the memory, though she could still feel her mutinous eyes brimming. What a sight she must have been, Cara thought ruefully. Had the rest of that day not been so tragic the humiliation of collapsing like some swooning countess on a hot summer’s eve would have been almost humorous - almost. The half-smile slowly faded, but Cara pressed her free hand to her to her eyelids. The distraction was enough to push the tears away. She sighed.
“Good morning.”
Cara looked half-startled at the clear blue eyes that met her own. Kahlan had awoken and somehow she had not noticed. Kahlan’s pale skin was smooth and free from worry, but the thin straight line of her mouth was not her usual morning smile.
“Good morning,” Cara croaked. She cursed her voice for betraying her. With a bit more effort, she asked in a steadier tone, ”Did you sleep well?”
“Always,” replied Kahlan. At last the beginnings of a smile crept onto the Confessor’s face, but her intense eyes bored into Cara’s. “Apparently you didn’t, though. Care to share what’s going on behind those beautiful but clearly tired eyes of yours?”
Cara remained silent for a long minute. Her eyes returned to the ceiling as she mulled over her next words. She could not lie to Kahlan, yet she struggled to share her more intimate thoughts, even with her lover. Perhaps it would always be difficult after so many years of silence, but Kahlan had showed her that it was worth the effort.
Finally she spoke. “I miss Richard.”
***
Kahlan had not expected that. A little stunned she said, “I miss him too.”
These days it was not often that Kahlan thought of her one-time husband and friend. The ravaging pain that had torn through her when she had heard of his death had dulled to a subtle ache with time and now, more often than not, she could remember his warm brown eyes and broad smile with fondness and without the sharp twinge afterward. She knew today would be difficult, but she had no idea that Cara would acknowledge it like this. Cara’s inflection had been flat, but even uttering the words was an act full of meaning. They really had come a long way over the last year.
Cara stiffened next to her. Kahlan sighed. So maybe they had further to go.
“Do you…” Cara’s voice faltered. She shifted as if to move away from Kahlan. Kahlan moved her hand from the Mord’Sith’s chest to grasp her hip with a firm grip. She pulled Cara closer to her, resisting the tension in Cara’s body.
“Cara.”
Cara stilled at the commanding tone in Kahlan’s voice, but she would not look at her. She turned her head away from Kahlan, her blond hair falling across her face, completely shielding her eyes from the Confessor’s gaze. Confessors could not read the truth in a Mord’Sith’s eyes as they could with other people, but with Kahlan Cara still seemed to turn away when emotions ran too high, as if her every thought and feeling were transparent.
“Cara,” Kahlan said again, her tone softening. “Please, love.”
Cara refused to turn towards Kahlan and her response was barely a whisper. “Do you wish he were still here?”
Kahlan heard the unspoken questions. Do you wish it was me that died that day, not him? Do you wish it was him in your bed and not me? The unsaid drove any last vestiges of sleepiness from the Confessor. She bolted upright. In an instant she had straddled the blonde’s hips and grabbed her chin with a firm hand, forcing Cara’s face towards her own.
“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice taking on the imperious tone of the Mother Confessor of the Midlands and the Lady Rahl of D’Hara. Cara’s eyes snapped to her own without hesitation. In matters of the heart Cara might be reticent, but she was always obedient to her Lady. Now that she had Cara’s attention Kahlan allowed herself to relax slightly.
“Do I miss Richard? Yes. Do I wish he was alive today? Yes. Did I love him and do I love him still? Yes. He was my husband, lover and friend and one of the most generous and gentle souls I have ever met.” Kahlan could feel Cara stiffen underneath her again and she brought her face closer to Cara’s, almost menacingly. “But you need to get it through that incredibly thick, stubborn head of yours that I love you. I don’t spend my days pining for what I’ve lost, wondering what might have been. Richard is gone and the Creator has seen fit to send me real love again. It’s you who I choose to be by my side, and you’re a fool if you think otherwise.”
Before Cara could respond, Kahlan closed the distance between them, fiercely taking Cara’s mouth in her own. The kiss stole the breath from both of them as Kahlan’s tongue forced its way past Cara’s full lips. Cara growled deep in her throat. Kahlan knew this was a language that Cara understood.
Cara’s hands grasped Kahlan’s hips, pulling Kahlan tight against her body and she began to rock her own hips, her stomach arching against Kahlan’s mound. Kahlan moaned loudly as she drew back from the kiss. She straightened up and she pulled Cara up with her, one hand grasping Cara’s shoulder, the other buried in the hair at the base of Cara’s neck. For a brief second Kahlan soaked in the sight of the Mord’Sith looking up at her with those heavy-lidded eyes, pale green turned rich emerald with desire. Kahlan bit her lower lip in anticipation. The next moment Cara took one of Kahlan’s breasts in her mouth, and Kahlan could feel Cara’s warm tongue swirling over the pebbled skin of her nipple. Kahlan gasped as Cara wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer while Cara’s other hand found her unattended breast. Waves of desire rolled through the Confessor, the pressure between her legs building.
The knock at the door sounded like a sharp crack, though Kahlan knew it wasn’t really more than a quiet tap. Cara cursed incomprehensibly, her mouth still buried in Kahlan’s breast.
“Yes?” barked Kahlan, more harshly than she intended. “What is it?”
A timid voice replied from the other side of the door, “Mother Confessor, you asked to be awakened by the second candlemark after sunrise for the ceremonies.”
“So I did.” She sighed. Answering a little louder, “I will be there in a moment. See to it that the kitchen sends tea and fruit to my drawing room.”
“Right away, my Lady.” Kahlan and Cara could hear the light steps of the chamber maid making a hasty retreat away from the door. With a single finger under Cara’s chin, Kahlan tilted Cara’s head up, away from her sensitive nipple. Cara’s green eyes shown up at her with a mixture of lust, mischief and love - and disappointment. With a hand flat on Cara’s chest she gave the Mord’Sith a playful shove back onto the bed.
“Don’t look at me that way.” She couldn’t help smiling at Cara, even as she scolded her. “You know today is important and when you look at me that way I start to forget my obligations. Though I wish I could spend the rest of the morning here, the people of D’Hara and Aydindril both need this day.”
Adding in a more subdued voice, “And maybe you and I need it, too.”
“Perhaps,” conceded Cara gruffly. Kahlan planted a quick but firm kiss on her lips and slid off the Mord'Sith's lap and out of the bed.
***
Cara felt the winter’s cold air rush in where Kahlan’s body had been and she shivered. As much as Cara wanted to disagree with Kahlan, she couldn’t. One of the most prescient acts Richard had carried out before his murder was to magically pass on to Kahlan part of his blood bond with the D’Haran people. He knew he might not always be around and if he died before producing an heir, the bond would be broken. The inevitable chaos would almost ensure that D’Hara and the Midlands would again be at war. In fact, his enemies had been counting on it when they trapped and killed him that day in that snowy pass on his way back to Aydindril from the People’s Palace. Much to their short-lived surprise the bond did not break - short-lived because the bond was also the source of power in Cara’s agiels. When Richard fell, the fire and pain still crackled and hummed along her agiels while she struck each one down in turn. Five men succumbed to the touch of the agiel, but still Richard could not be saved. Even the Breath of Life could not bring him back.
Today was to be both memorial and celebration of Richard’s short rule. The D’Haran people needed to feel their bond renewed with their Lady even as they mourned the loss of their Lord, while the Midlanders needed to celebrate the life of the Seeker that had delivered them from tyranny and brought back to them the Mother Confessor. The peace was still tenuous after so many decades of strife and the two lands needed their Mistress to bring them together once again. Even Kahlan needed to remember and honor the man who had been her life for five years. But what did Cara need? How to reconcile the fact that while his friendship had given her so much, his death had given her so much more?
Cara rose, her reflections making her uneasy, but they dressed quietly, the Mother Confessor humming softly to herself. Cara allowed Kahlan to help her with the bindings on her leathers, and she gently helped Kahlan into her black under skirt and corset, and then into the pure white Confessor’s gown. Her mind drifted again as she tightened the lacings of Kahlan’s dress, but Kahlan must have noticed the faraway look in her eyes. Kahlan laid a tender hand on Cara’s cheek.
“I’m sure Richard would want us to go on living our lives, Cara. He would not deny us our happiness,” Kahlan said with certainty.
Cara did not reply, and Kahlan, for once, let the Mord’Sith have her silence. Instead, Kahlan leaned in and her lips brushed Cara’s soothingly. She lingered for a few seconds, then drew back. She gave Cara a last wistful look. Then, setting her shoulders back and her head high, she became the Mother Confessor.
“I have a few affairs to attend to before the morning ceremony. I want you to be by my side before the ceremony starts.”
“Of course, my Lady.”
Kahlan turned to go without a glance back, but her fingers held Cara’s until their arms could no longer reach. She would always be the Mother Confessor, but she needed Cara to know that she was also always Kahlan.
Cara stood alone in the empty room, her eyes travelling over the familiar surroundings. While she surveyed the bed that Kahlan and she had shared for close to six months now her eyes fell on the Rada’Han on the nightstand. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand, as if examining it for the first time. So cold and ugly, yet Kahlan insisted on wearing it every time they made love, lest her magic be released and kill Cara. Cara’s grip tightened around it, the edges of the enchanted steel biting into her hand even through her leather gloves. Her face contorted for a second, and then she dropped the collar heavily onto the top of the nightstand. It landed with a solid, dead thunk. Kahlan may love her, but she knew Richard and Kahlan had never had to use the Rada’Han to be together.
The next moment Cara was striding out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Her face was a cold, tight mask, unreadable and intimidating. The guards outside the ante room blanched at the sight of her but she seemed to take no notice of them. She might not understand the fickle ways of love, but she still understood her duty to the Lady Rahl. So she would do as she had always done - she would serve her Mistress.
***
The day passed quickly, far quicker than Cara would have anticipated. She stood just behind Kahlan, silent and stoic, but always within Kahlan’s reach. They exchanged no words, but they were always aware of each other. When one moved so did the other. Cara was the perfect shadow. Every now and then, between ceremonies or when there was a brief pause between the long stream of people clamoring to see the Mother Confessor, Kahlan would spare her a quick glance. Their eyes would lock and though Cara’s face registered no emotion, her heart would flutter a little in her chest and she was sure Kahlan knew. Once, after the morning ceremony in which Kahlan had given a long speech about the many accomplishments of Richard Cypher Rahl to the pilgrims massed outside the Palace, they had found themselves alone in the Great Hall. Kahlan’s shoulders slumped and she reached a shaky hand out, a hand Cara caught immediately. Soundless tears streamed down Kahlan’s cheeks and she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace by the Mord’Sith. Gathering her strength, Kahlan rested her forehead on the cool, red leather stretched across her lover’s chest. A minute later as the first nobleman wishing to pay his respects entered, she sat upon the First Chair regal and gracious, Cara standing at attention beside her as if nothing had passed between them.
Cara did not cry. She did not think. Her whole being was focused on the Mother Confessor. Days like this unnerved her more than most, when the Lady Rahl insisted on being among her people. Kahlan was never one to stay removed from those she led, but it made protecting her very difficult. Cara watched for any signs of trouble - her eyes constantly roaming from face to face, hand resting lightly on the hilt of her agiel - though there was none to find today.
***
Eventually the evening bells tolled, the last prayers and devotions were said, and the final remembrances made. The Great Hall cleared. After hour upon hour of people coming and going, Kahlan’s ears actually rang from the silence. Kahlan watched as her guardian cautiously checked each entrance to make sure it was secure before returning to the throne. Cara was always fastidious in her duties and though she was sure the Mord’Sith was exhausted from constant vigilance, she showed no sign of wearying. Kahlan’s breath caught in her chest when Cara’s eyes turned towards hers. Kahlan was always surprised how Cara’s eyes could transform from dead flat to untamed passion in an instant. Though her own throat was sore from overuse, she began to speak, but Cara simply placed a finger on her lips to quiet her.
“Come with me,” Cara said in a low tone.
Kahlan let Cara lead her back to their chambers, through the ante room and into the bed chamber, Cara’s hand always at the small of Kahlan’s back, guiding her. She poured Kahlan a glass of water from the jug on the small washstand near the window and Kahlan drank it down greedily, the cool snowmelt soothing her raw throat. Kahlan watched as Cara stoked the fire against the winter chill, her eyes playing over Cara’s strong back and shoulders while the Mord’Sith bent over the flames. She still had not said a word to this beautiful woman since leaving the room in the morning. So many times during the day she had desperately wanted to turn to Cara and beg her to carry her away, instead of being forced to share such private pain in such a public way. Cara, who always stood by, uncomplaining and unrelenting in her duty. Cara, who found little ways to show Kahlan that duty was not all that motivated her, whether it was the tea that showed up before she asked for it or the warm cloak that appeared just as she was getting a chill. But she was the Mother Confessor and today her people had needed the comfort of ritual more than she had needed her lover. Now, however, when she could finally speak to the one who she needed the most, her voice failed her.
Instead she crossed the room and wrapped Cara in a tight embrace. Standing, Kahlan was a few inches taller than Cara and she placed fleeting kisses across Cara’s forehead and eyelids, then dipped her head lower to capture Cara’s mouth. She felt Cara’s arms encircle her and she was crushed against Cara’s body. They explored each other’s lips and tongues, first gingerly, then with more fervor. Kahlan kissed Cara almost desperately, struggling to convey the need she had for the Mord’Sith.
***
Cara was the first to break the kiss in order to catch her breath. Before she could take a second breath, Kahlan’s hungry lips were on her again. She grunted at the wild way in which Kahlan caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit down.
Kahlan’s hands were soon at the fastenings on her leather, tugging viciously. Cara was surprised by the aggression in Kahlan’s actions, but that simply made them all the more arousing. By the time her leather was off and Kahlan’s dress lay next to it, pools of red and white mixing together, Cara could feel the wetness between her own thighs. Kahlan’s mouth devoured her own as she shoved Cara backwards toward the bed. They toppled together onto the furs covering the bed, limbs entwined, panting. Kahlan made her way down Cara’s body, nipping and sucking, taking first one, then the other of Cara’s nipples in her mouth. Cara moaned under Kahlan’s attentions and arched up, closing the distance between their bodies.
Kahlan’s fingers raked roughly down her sides across her ribs. Then Kahlan did something she had never done before - she began to kiss and lick her way down the scar on Cara’s side. Though the tissue should have been deadened from the damage, Cara found that her skin was exquisitely, almost painfully sensitive. Kahlan’s kisses sent electric shocks coursing through her, and the lapping of Kahlan’s tongue gave her goosebumps all over her body. She gasped at the sensation.
Kahlan drew back in alarm. “Did I hurt you?”
Cara vigorously shook her head no. She curled her fingers in Kahlan’s rich brown hair and guided her back to the scar. Kahlan understood her silent plea and began to kiss again where she had left off. Cara’s body quivered under her tongue and Cara’s breath came in short, shuddering gasps. Cara’s eyes were squeezed shut and her brow was knitted together as she focused on the hot line of ecstasy being traced along her skin.
***
Kahlan had never seen the Mord’Sith like this. True Cara was a sensual and skilled lover, but that was common to all Mord’Sith. Nor was Cara unfamiliar with receiving pleasure from Kahlan, had at times even demanded it, but tonight was something altogether different. Cara’s carefully contrived control seemed to be slipping. Kahlan wondered if Cara was even aware of it.
Kahlan’s mouth and tongue traveled lower and began to make their way across the ridge of Cara’s hip, which bucked with urgency. Cara’s legs opened wide at the subtle pressure of her hand, and Kahlan absorbed the sight and smell of Cara’s glistening sex, a wicked, sharp smile spreading across her face. Kahlan traced one long finger through Cara’s folds and Cara groaned at the contact.
“Kahlan, wait - please.” The tentative, almost timid tone in Cara’s voice brought Kahlan up short, her mouth mere inches from Cara’s clit. Did she actually just say “please”? Kahlan could see arousal mixed with something else, something new, in Cara’s green eyes as she stared down at Kahlan. The muscles in Cara’s jaw clenched and unclenched as if she was trying to force her words out.
“I want…,” Cara hesitated. “I want us to be together - at the same time.”
Kahlan’s heart melted at the sight of Cara struggling to ask for what she desired. The request itself was so simple, but the act of making it so difficult for the Mord’Sith. Take and be taken was all that Cara had known for so long that asking for something made her incredibly vulnerable.
“Of course,” Kahlan replied soothingly.
Kahlan stretched her body atop Cara’s, their breasts crushing together. She kissed Cara slowly, deliberately, almost solemnly. Then she reached for the Rada’Han.
Cara’s hand gripped her wrist, holding her back. Her face was grim. “I hate that thing.”
“I know, Cara. But you know we can’t without it. I can’t. Your life is too high a price to pay for one moment’s pleasure.” Kahlan’s voice was firm, but there was a soft, pleading undertone.
Cara grunted an indecipherable reply, but let Kahlan’s hand go. The heavy plain steel was cold as Kahlan placed it around her neck, the lock snapping shut with a faint click. She could feel the tingle of its magic counteracting her own, its presence always so alien no matter how many times she wore it. Yet she would never endanger Cara’s well-being out of pure selfishness.
She sat back, straddling Cara’s legs, leaving just enough room for Cara’s thighs to admit her hand. With a devilish grin Kahlan reached down and slid her fingers over and past Cara’s clit and teased at Cara’s opening.
“Now to finish what I started.”
***
Cara moaned loudly as Kahlan entered her with two fingers, soon adding a third. Cara allowed herself to enjoy Kahlan’s rhythm for half a minute, the slow, deep strokes matching the swaying of her hips. The heel of Kahlan’s hand rubbed deliciously over her clit. Then Cara reached for her lover.
Cara found Kahlan already soaked with desire. While she deftly rolled and caressed the hard peak of Kahlan’s arousal with one hand, the fingers of her other found easy entry into Kahlan’s inviting, warm depth. The ripple of Kahlan’s smooth muscles clenching down on her fingers caused her own sex to tighten involuntarily and her hips bucked more wildly. She watched Kahlan with ravenous delight, whose eyes were closed, head thrown back, her breasts quivering as she took Cara inside of her.
Moans filled the air, growing louder and more urgent and Cara couldn’t tell if they were Kahlan’s or her own. She could feel the exquisite pressure building between her legs and arcing along her spine. Her vision began to narrow and she could feel herself slipping over the edge, but she forced herself to focus on the demands of Kahlan’s body. Kahlan’s release was so close. Suddenly Kahlan’s eyes were fixed on Cara’s and there was a moment when the world froze around them just before Kahlan’s eyes snapped shut again and the Confessor let go in a hoarse shout. Cara came at the same instant, her muscles squeezing tightly around Kahlan’s fingers. All she could feel were her own sweet contractions being matched by those of Kahlan’s. All her senses were filled with Kahlan’s presence.
***
Later that night, Cara lay in Kahlan’s arms, the Confessor’s front pressed to her back, her warm breath brushing the skin on the back of Cara’s neck. Kahlan had been asleep for hours, exhausted by the twin exertions of her grueling day and their evening of love-making. Cara knew she should be asleep, too. Her body ached for rest but her mind would not let her. She grimaced in the dark as her eyes went yet again to the Rada’Han on the nightstand, glistening faintly in the moonlight that filtered through the windows. It chafed Cara more each time Kahlan wore it, resentment gnawing and twisting in her gut. She couldn’t quite explain it to herself - she knew the dangers to herself, she knew Kahlan was only trying to protect her - but her discontent continued to grow. Normally she would have been very satisfied with the way Kahlan responded to her attentions; in fact Kahlan’s enthusiasm was greater than that of most of the women and men she had bedded before. But Kahlan was no mere woman and Cara knew she wanted to feel Kahlan’s power running through her.
As if her consternation over the Mother Confessor weren’t enough to keep her up, another very, different problem niggled at the back of her mind. There was one person Cara hadn’t seen today, one who should have been there most of all. Zedd. Zedd and she had made their peace in the months after Richard’s death, but he had never been as kind and welcoming as he had once been. Still on a day like today the absence of the First Wizard beside the Mother Confessor was conspicuous. She hoped that he had simply been overcome by the day. After all, Cara and Kahlan had each other, but whom did Zedd turn to when the loss of his grandson haunted him? She drew Kahlan’s arm around her more tightly and resolved that she would check in on the old wizard with the new day.
Part II