Fic: A Slip of the Tongue (PG-13)

Jun 20, 2010 22:05

Title: A Slip of the Tongue
Author: cakeandqpm1138 
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Characters: Cara/OFC, Cara/Kahlan, Kahlan/Richard
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~900 words
Warnings: None that I can think of…
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything! This is just for fun. Comments and criticism are most welcome!
Summary: Richard makes a fool of himself. Again. Cara is horribly embarrassed. Twice. This is somewhat of a companion to A Simple Misunderstanding.

~~~~

Richard finished the last mouthful of his drink and set the mug down on the table in front of him. He let his gaze wander around the tavern, taking in the details of the next-to-deserted room. It was late, and Kahlan, Cara and Zedd had long since disappeared to their rooms above the bar. The innkeeper had graciously offered to put them up for the night out of gratitude for their help in fighting off band of the banelings that had attacked the village that morning, and the Seeker and his companions had been more than happy to accept such hospitality.

Suddenly, Richard heard a muffled thump from somewhere upstairs. He glanced at the bartender, but the man apparently had not heard it. Maybe I imagined it, Richard thought to himself. A few seconds later, however, he heard it again. He got slowly to his feet. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end; his Seeker instincts told him he should go and investigate. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and crept cautiously up the stairs. The thumping noise continued.

When he reached the second floor, Richard could tell that the noise was indeed coming from one of the rooms along the hall. It was louder now and the silence between each thud was getting shorter. Richard approached the door to the room at the very end of the hall and thumping noise grew even louder. It's coming from Cara’s room, he realized, his stomach twisting into a knot. Now he could hear frantic, gasping breaths and the rustle of cloth over the heavy thump of wood against wood. He drew his sword apprehensively at the sound of something fragile getting knocked off a table and shattering on the floor. He crept forward, trying to size up the situation through the bolted door. It sounded like there was only one other person in the room, but Richard knew he must be a skilled fighter if Cara had not managed to incapacitate him by now. The sword magnified his anger, but he knew he needed to be careful; it was possible he would distract Cara by breaking in suddenly and the distraction could get her hurt or even killed. Richard weighed his options, his dread growing as the heavy sound of flesh hitting flesh reached his ears, followed by a sharp, breathless cry.

Suddenly, Cara’s voice rang out, an urgent, vulnerable sound that was halfway between a sob and a battle cry. “Kahlan!”

At that, Richard abandoned his caution and sprang into action. He rushed forward, kicked the door in with one adrenaline-fuelled blow and charged headlong into the room, sword singing.

The sight that met him stopped him in his tracks. The sword fell from his hand and onto the splintered fragments of wood and pottery strewn on the floor. Cara was on her hands and knees on the bed, her hair disheveled, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. She was straddling a slender, dark-haired woman Richard recognized as the weaver who had made the blankets he’d bought earlier that same day. She, like Cara, was entirely naked and wore an expression of confusion and anger.

Cara straightened up and sat back on her heels. She opened her mouth to snap at Richard but before she could say anything the woman shoved Cara off of her hips and glared furiously at her. “Kahlan!? Who’s Kahlan?”

Cara only stared back at her, too disoriented to reply. The woman slapped her sharply across the face and left her sitting alone on the bed. Cara’s cheeks blazed a deep red as she watched her collect her clothes off the floor.

Richard barely had time to step out of the way as the woman stormed past him, cursing the Mord’Sith viciously under her breath. She left a stunned and uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Richard shifted his weight awkwardly. “Cara, I…”

“Get out!”

If Richard hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Cara was about to go into the Con Dar. He wasted no time retrieving his sword and bolting out of the room, leaving Cara to nurse her wounded pride in peace.

~~~~

The next morning at breakfast, Richard sat as far away from Cara as he could manage and kept his eyes fixed firmly on the bowl in front of him. Neither one of them acknowledged Zedd’s greeting when he joined them at the table, but the wizard was too distracted by the food on the table to notice.

A few minutes later, the sound of Kahlan’s boots on the stairs made Richard jump. He glanced nervously at Cara who threatened murder with her eyes. Her face was the same color red as it had been the night before.

“Good morning!” Kahlan kissed Richard on the cheek. Zedd smiled sleepily at her, but Richard and Cara continued to stare resolutely at their bowls. “What’s wrong with you two?”

Richard swallowed hard. “Nothing. I just had a rough night.”

“A nightmare,” Cara agreed. Kahlan gave them both curious looks. Cara cleared her throat. “The beds here are too soft. We should leave.” She raised a threatening eyebrow at Richard.

He quickly nodded his agreement. “The sooner we leave this behind us the better.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Cara flash him a look of gratitude before returning her attention to her breakfast, her cheeks still the slightest bit pink.

~~~~

legend of the seeker, fanfic

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