Fic: Rarely Resisted (Cara/Kahlan) NC17 (15/?)
Title: Rarely Resisted
Author: Dylan
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the situations, and I make zero money from this foolish endeavor.
Summary: Set around the time between 'Fury' and 'Resurrection', early in season 2 of Legend of The Seeker. Sometimes resistance is err...futile.
Part Fifteen
Waiting in silence, in the shadow of the town we ran from only days ago, we listen for the signal to enter. A breeze is ruffling our clothes, blowing through us as the growing darkness conceals our intentions. Cara is tense beside me as her eyes scan the night, watching as Richard shuffles forward towards the wall. It has been a difficult day as we travelled from the cottage back to this place, spending a night under the stars, eating a light breakfast, planning, waiting, deciding who we can trust.
Garen slipped back into the town earlier in the day, contacting the few Mord-Sith who live their lives in hiding within its walls. They will help us enter, and aid us, though Zedd is more displeased than I have ever seen him, and Cara is agitated and unsure. We are taking risks we probably should not, but Richard is adamant we need to do this. The compass is clear, and his mind is made.
Harte grumbles as his knees squelch further into the mud underneath us and I can’t blame him; we are cold and dirty and up against odds that leave me worried. I must trust that we are right, however. Harte assured us that not everybody in the town supports his brother Aaron and the wiry magistrate Albert Thorne, and that we will have help once we’re inside, but my heart is beating loudly and my gaze keeps flicking to Cara, hoping for reassurance that she keeps shying away from.
We have hardly spoken since yesterday, and had no time to be close or even gaze upon each other without the presence of the others, and I feel the distance gnawing at me.
I barely suppress a sigh and suddenly feel Zedd’s hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. He’s worried too, and has assured that he will not stand by idle this time if he’s really needed. His stubbornness irks me, as does Richard’s, but I must trust in them both.
With a flick of his wrist, Richard beckons us forward towards the wall. We have not been seen, but as we scramble towards a small side gate I can’t help but feel we are walking straight back into a trap. Garen’s eyes peer from the shadows beyond the gate, her hand resting on the handle of her agiel. She nods, silently opening the way for us as two other women help. I can only assume that they are also Mord-Sith and my skin prickles. I can’t quite believe that I’m doing this alongside such enemies, but we are all focused on the same task. I have to swallow my pride, my distrust and years of conditioning.
Feeling Cara brush up against me as we steal our way inside the town walls, I realise that sometimes old enemies can become much more than that to us. I trust her with my life and know that she will do all she can to protect us.
“I have spread word,” Garen whispers as we creep into the depths of an old barn. “They will meet us at the back of the villa.”
“They?” Zedd asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Allies,” Garen replies testily.
“Mord-Sith,” he says as if he has a bad taste in his mouth.
“Not all,” she clarifies, her eyes daring him to ask further questions.
He grunts and I sigh, feeling this kind of discussion is entirely unnecessary at this point; we already agreed to this plan.
Richard adjusts his sword, waiting for us to quiet before reminding us how we will proceed. We will meet up with our new found allies and enter the villa via the kitchens, overpowering any and all guards we come across. The plan is to make our way through the basement before heading up further into the large house. Garen assures that though the guards seem intimidating their numbers are quite few at this time of day and our unexpected arrival will throw them into a spin. We should have no problems as long as we keep our own numbers up, even though we will have no magic within the walls of the villa; agiels and the Sword of Truth mere ordinary weapons, but still in skilled hands.
It all seems a little too simple, but as Richard reminded us, sometimes the simplest course of action is the best.
Within minutes of entering the villa it is clear that the guards are no match for us. They seem untested, as if never believing a ragged band of Mord-Sith, strangers, and town folk would dare take such risks, or could lay waste to them with such ease. We do our best not to kill too many, at my insistence - these men need put on trial so they can be punished for any crimes they may have committed in governor Aaron’s name. The guards still alive are bustled before us, pushed towards the cells as we move through them.
By the time we make our way up to the rooms and offices on the upper floors most of the guards choose to lay down their weapons rather than fight. I can see the annoyance on Cara’s face every time she is denied the pleasure of beating one of them up due to him surrendering. It would be rather amusing in other circumstances.
Once we have the run of the place we go in search of the governor and magistrate, the Mord-Sith certain that they both use rooms to the top of the villa. Before long they are snatched from their beds and thrown into cells, Richard making sure they will be given a fair trial instead of just being put to death on the spot. The Mord-Sith are not happy about it but he’s made it clear that he is in charge. It makes me proud of him and certainly proud to stand by his side.
“Is that everyone?” Richard asks, turning to Harte, who hung back as best he could through the whole ordeal.
“Yes,” Harte says with a tired nod.
“You will never get away with this!” The former governor Aaron bellows from his rather overcrowded cell. “The people will not stand for it.”
“The people helped us put you where you belong,” I remind him, indicating a few of the town’s folk as they lock cell doors and clear away weapons.
His curses cause me to turn away, leaving them to their fates as Harte thanks us for helping him take back his position. He spent many years banished, fending for himself, and he plans to pull the town out of the mire his brother had drug it into. Morning will not arrive for many candle marks yet, when he will begin abolishing rules and laws that served only to suppress the people rather than keep them safe. He is adamant that there will be no challenge to his decisions, as his brother’s only supporters were his henchmen and paid help.
Making our way up to the nicer, more formal rooms past flickering torches, we thank the town’s people for their help and send them home, turning a blind eye when the Mord-Sith slip away into the night. Garen remains with us and I wonder why; though she seems reluctant to leave Cara’s side so I suppose the answer is right before me. It makes me feel itchy and irritated, but I say nothing.
“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Harte says, shaking our hands with his frail one, his back straighter and eyes suddenly brighter, a transformation of spirit making him seem much more noble and able now. “This town is in your debt; no longer will they fear what lies behind the walls, or what lies within.”
I give him a warm smile, assuring him that his thanks are not necessary.
“Tomorrow I will lift the spell from this house as your good wizard here tells me it’s not one he’s familiar with,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “I feel a little tired, however, and the thought of my own bed after so many years is far too appealing to resist much longer. I bid you goodnight.”
With that he is gone, leaving us to choose which rooms we take for the night; telling us that they are all similar. A few of the people who helped us have stayed, resuming old duties in the service of the governor, keeping an eye on those in the cells, and promising us clean sheets and a hot meal if needed. My body feels the lure of sleep, of a soft bed, though I feel awkward as I wonder just where I will be spending the rest of the night.
Of course, given a choice I would stay with Cara, but as the four of us - plus Garen -linger in the main living room awaiting notice that the bedrooms are ready, we decide nothing. At least, nothing until Zedd clears his throat and pulls Richard to one side, far enough away for their words to be incoherent mumbles and whispers.
“Well that’s rude,” Garen says with a glare in their direction as she paces in front of the fireplace.
Cara grunts, separating our belongings as she finds her own pack and sets it aside.
“It is not our place to teach the Lord Rahl manners,” she mumbles.
Garen chuckles, shaking her head at Cara as I sit and watch their easy interaction.
“He is not the Lord Rahl,” Garen insists, though she sounds less convinced than she did just days before.
Cara’s eyes narrow, a retort on the tip of her tongue. I find myself staring at her lips as she licks them, her eyes boring into Garen. Just the memory of those lips against mine makes me shudder. I could become so lost in the softness of them, the promises they would make me.
“Kahlan,” I hear spoken quietly beside me, breaking me from my thoughts.
I turn my head to meet Richard’s eyes, his face open and full of love as he smiles at me.
Instantly I wonder if I’ve missed anything else that he may have said, but he doesn’t seem overly concerned so I give him a gentle smile and shuffle over a little on the plush sofa, making room for him to sit beside me. For a moment I wonder if he will speak again, or just sit quietly gloating over his sound decisions today - not that he has bragged about being right, but there is an air about him that clearly suggests he feels good about himself right now.
I do not have to wait long for him to continue.
“Zedd says there is a nice big room at the bottom of the corridor on this floor,” he says, a slight blush beginning to creep over his cheeks.
Zedd gives me a little nod and a smile as I glance his way, my stomach turning as I fear the worst. The old wizard has obviously conspired to throw Richard and I together tonight; with the spell still on the house that will suppress my magic making it a safe option. My hands begin to shake as I rest them on my thighs, biting back my rising anger.
“Really,” I say, giving nothing away, willing Richard not to ask what I know he will ask as I look into his hopeful eyes.
He nods shyly, turning fully to me and speaking even quieter.
“We could . . .” He looks down, reaching out and taking one of my hands in his own.
I fight the urge to shrink back from him as it would only confuse him, and hurt him. This is Zedd’s fault and I will have words with him for placing me in this position, but for now I must decide what to say, if to accept his invitation.
Looking towards Cara as she holds herself stiff on the sofa across the room makes my heart ache. I can see that she has guessed Richard’s intentions, her jaw clenched and eyes heavy and dark with a brewing storm. I watch, unable to move as she holds my gaze briefly before looking away. I don’t wish to hurt her, and I know this would - how could it not? She may be Mord-Sith and insist that she doesn’t have feelings, but I can see them so clearly now.
“Let’s talk,” I say to Richard, allowing him to take my hand as I raise from the chair and head for the door.
I avoid Cara’s eyes, not wishing to cause Richard concern, or to make it obvious that she is the reason I am about to break his heart. I just hope she doesn’t think I’m willingly heading to bed with him, to give him what I wish to only share with Cara. I will find her afterwards and explain.
Once Richard and I are moving down the corridor - Richard shouldering both our packs - I remove my hand from his, fiddling with my hair and my clothing so I no longer have to feel the warmth of his skin against mine and the way it burns me with guilt instead of passion. He glances my way but I give him a small smile so as not to worry him. I feel my stomach tying itself into knots, my heart beginning to thud as we reach the doors to the room he expects us to share. My nerves get the better of me as I linger behind him as he enters and he turns to me, such a caring, kind smile on his lips I almost decide not to do this to him, and to stay by his side. But just remembering that Cara sits elsewhere in the villa - her heart also in my hands - makes me resolve myself to this fate. To hurting a man who does not deserve it.
“Are you nervous?” Richard asks softly as he places our things down on a chair next to the very large, opulent bed. He chuckles a little then continues. “I have to admit, I am.”
I notice the boyish flush to his cheeks and feel sick to my stomach. I look away, anywhere but at his eyes as I move further in, running my fingers over the soft blanket of the bed.
“If you’re . . . if you’re not ready or . . .” Richard stutters, dropping his gaze to the floor as he picks up on my unease.
My heart goes out to him, loving him still - even more in that moment - though not in the way he needs. I sit down on the edge of the bed, trying to come up with the words. How do you tell a man that you have fallen out of love with him?
“Richard,” I begin, drawing his full attention as he stands before me, “it’s not that.”
Patting the bed beside me I urge him to sit.
“I know we never thought we’d be able to . . .” he starts, before I silence him with a soft touch to his face.
I can’t seem to find the words, the way to say them, my mind blank as I look into those eyes that still make me feel so safe. I’ve never had a friend like him, and probably never will again if he decides he can no longer have me travel by his side. Drawing Richard a little closer with my hand cupping his cheek I place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Taking his hand as I lean back again, I take a deep breath and pray to the Sprits that he will understand.
“You know that I love you,” I say, Richard’s eyes brightening at my words. I sigh softly and continue. “And that you’ve become the greatest friend that I could have ever wished for - one that I hope to keep.”
“Of course we’ll always be friends,” Richard interrupts, his hand giving mine a squeeze, a look on his face that clearly suggests he doesn’t know where I’m going with this at all.
“Do you promise that?” I ask, knowing I have no right.
“Yes, Kahlan,” he assures instantly, though his brows knit together as he tries to understand. “What’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you? We don’t have to . . .” He looks down at the bed and I close my eyes, urging myself to find the strength to do what I must.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Richard. It’s me, I . . .” I know my choice of words are foolish, but I plough ahead as I think of Cara and all that I’ve begun to feel for her despite my love for this kind man. “I don’t feel the same anymore.”
Barely a whisper, the words linger in the air as if they hadn’t been said at all, Richard’s eyes looking into mine as if he’s searching for something. Tears form in the dark depths of his eyes as his mind begins to focus on what I’ve just said, ripping at my insides.
“What do you mean?” he asks after what feels like a lifetime, his voice sounding so strange, so foreign. “You don’t love me? But you just said you do, and that . . .”
“I do love you,” I say, knowing I probably shouldn’t. I’m just confusing the matter. “But not in the way I did.”
Like a slap to his face, the words make Richard lean back, looking hard at me.
“Why?” he asks, a lone tear marking a path down his cheek as he begins to understand. “What changed? What did I do?”
Anger very quickly takes hold and he swipes at his tears, getting up from the bed beside me to stride back and forth. I try to reply but he shakes his head, brow deeply furrowed. I try not to worry as his hand lands on the hilt of his sword; I know he would never hurt me, but the action certainly won’t help with his anger.
“I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong, Richard,” I say, interrupting. Rising, I rest my hand on his forearm, stalling his pacing. “You’re closer to me than anybody has ever been; I will always care about you, I just can’t be what you need me to be, what we once thought we would be.”
“I don’t understand, Kahlan,” he tells me, his voice breaking, eyes flashing between hurt and anger. “We’ve been through so much. I want you to be my wife, to . . . to be with you forever. I thought we both wanted that. I thought . . .”
I place a hand on his face, bringing his gaze to rest more fully on mine, hoping he can see how much I hate to do this, and how much he truly means to me. I know - am sure now - as I look into his depths, that he is not the man I will spend my life with; not as anything other than a friend. A friend I would still die for, but just a friend nonetheless.
“We were thrown together, Richard,” I say, needing to make him see this clearly, for what it is. “And yes, I did once think I wanted all those things, and if . . .”
Looking away I search for how to explain without telling him about Cara and how I feel for her; how she showed me what it truly is to want. If she hadn’t come along maybe I would never have questioned my heart and Richard’s place within it.
“If what?” he demands and I flinch back a little at his rising temper. “You tell me I haven’t done anything wrong, but things don’t just change for no reason, Kahlan.”
Too close to telling him the truth and putting Cara in possible danger, I turn my back, hands to my face as I take a deep breath.
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” I say with a sigh, needing him to just let go of me. “I can’t give you the part of me that you want, that you need. I thought I could, but I know now that I just can’t, and it’s not fair to lie to you or have you believe everything is how it should be, when it’s not.”
Cryptic though my words may seem, I’m doing my best to keep his heart from breaking completely.
“I’m not giving up on this, Kahlan. On us,” he says quietly. “You’re just scared, and I understand that.”
His hand rests lightly on my shoulder, a slight squeeze making me turn to face him. I want to tell him that my heart lies elsewhere, that my desires lie elsewhere, but I won’t.
“Richard, listen to me,” I say softly, placing both my hands on his face. “You deserve a woman who will love you completely. And this isn’t about my confessor magic,” I interrupt as I see the familiar pity in his eyes, “it’s about me. I’m sorry, Richard,” I finish, letting him go.
His mouth opens and closes; the wheels and cogs turning in his head, figuring out why this is happening and how he can change things.
“I put too much pressure on you,” he mutters. “It’s my fault, but I can fix . . .”
“No, Richard,” I exclaim, my voice harder now. “I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t be with you. Please, try to understand.”
Richard’s chin hits his chest as he hangs his head, the deep pain within him making me want to take him in my arms to soothe him, but I stay at arm’s length as I see the anger in him beginning to boil over; his pride a bloody mess on the floor.
“This isn’t right,” he mumbles. “Something is wrong. Something happened to you.”
Unable to take much more of this I walk to the door, grasping the handle tightly.
“Think what you want, Richard,” I say, my back to him. “I just hope one day you can forgive me.”
My words hold more meaning than he knows, because when he finds out about my feelings for Cara he will feel terribly betrayed. I pull the door open, unable to stand the hurt in his eyes much longer. He stalks past me before I can leave.
“You have the room, Kahlan,” he says gruffly, stepping into the corridor. “We’ll talk in the morning. Zedd will know what’s wrong.”
Before I can say anything further, or assure him that there is no point in talking more about this, and that Zedd can not make me fall back in love with him, he storms down the darkened corridor. He moves quickly out of sight, leaving me clutching at my chest as I feel the absoluteness of what I’ve just done.
TBC ...
Author: Dylan
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the situations, and I make zero money from this foolish endeavor.
Summary: Set around the time between 'Fury' and 'Resurrection', early in season 2 of Legend of The Seeker. Sometimes resistance is err...futile.
Part Fifteen
Waiting in silence, in the shadow of the town we ran from only days ago, we listen for the signal to enter. A breeze is ruffling our clothes, blowing through us as the growing darkness conceals our intentions. Cara is tense beside me as her eyes scan the night, watching as Richard shuffles forward towards the wall. It has been a difficult day as we travelled from the cottage back to this place, spending a night under the stars, eating a light breakfast, planning, waiting, deciding who we can trust.
Garen slipped back into the town earlier in the day, contacting the few Mord-Sith who live their lives in hiding within its walls. They will help us enter, and aid us, though Zedd is more displeased than I have ever seen him, and Cara is agitated and unsure. We are taking risks we probably should not, but Richard is adamant we need to do this. The compass is clear, and his mind is made.
Harte grumbles as his knees squelch further into the mud underneath us and I can’t blame him; we are cold and dirty and up against odds that leave me worried. I must trust that we are right, however. Harte assured us that not everybody in the town supports his brother Aaron and the wiry magistrate Albert Thorne, and that we will have help once we’re inside, but my heart is beating loudly and my gaze keeps flicking to Cara, hoping for reassurance that she keeps shying away from.
We have hardly spoken since yesterday, and had no time to be close or even gaze upon each other without the presence of the others, and I feel the distance gnawing at me.
I barely suppress a sigh and suddenly feel Zedd’s hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. He’s worried too, and has assured that he will not stand by idle this time if he’s really needed. His stubbornness irks me, as does Richard’s, but I must trust in them both.
With a flick of his wrist, Richard beckons us forward towards the wall. We have not been seen, but as we scramble towards a small side gate I can’t help but feel we are walking straight back into a trap. Garen’s eyes peer from the shadows beyond the gate, her hand resting on the handle of her agiel. She nods, silently opening the way for us as two other women help. I can only assume that they are also Mord-Sith and my skin prickles. I can’t quite believe that I’m doing this alongside such enemies, but we are all focused on the same task. I have to swallow my pride, my distrust and years of conditioning.
Feeling Cara brush up against me as we steal our way inside the town walls, I realise that sometimes old enemies can become much more than that to us. I trust her with my life and know that she will do all she can to protect us.
“I have spread word,” Garen whispers as we creep into the depths of an old barn. “They will meet us at the back of the villa.”
“They?” Zedd asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Allies,” Garen replies testily.
“Mord-Sith,” he says as if he has a bad taste in his mouth.
“Not all,” she clarifies, her eyes daring him to ask further questions.
He grunts and I sigh, feeling this kind of discussion is entirely unnecessary at this point; we already agreed to this plan.
Richard adjusts his sword, waiting for us to quiet before reminding us how we will proceed. We will meet up with our new found allies and enter the villa via the kitchens, overpowering any and all guards we come across. The plan is to make our way through the basement before heading up further into the large house. Garen assures that though the guards seem intimidating their numbers are quite few at this time of day and our unexpected arrival will throw them into a spin. We should have no problems as long as we keep our own numbers up, even though we will have no magic within the walls of the villa; agiels and the Sword of Truth mere ordinary weapons, but still in skilled hands.
It all seems a little too simple, but as Richard reminded us, sometimes the simplest course of action is the best.
Within minutes of entering the villa it is clear that the guards are no match for us. They seem untested, as if never believing a ragged band of Mord-Sith, strangers, and town folk would dare take such risks, or could lay waste to them with such ease. We do our best not to kill too many, at my insistence - these men need put on trial so they can be punished for any crimes they may have committed in governor Aaron’s name. The guards still alive are bustled before us, pushed towards the cells as we move through them.
By the time we make our way up to the rooms and offices on the upper floors most of the guards choose to lay down their weapons rather than fight. I can see the annoyance on Cara’s face every time she is denied the pleasure of beating one of them up due to him surrendering. It would be rather amusing in other circumstances.
Once we have the run of the place we go in search of the governor and magistrate, the Mord-Sith certain that they both use rooms to the top of the villa. Before long they are snatched from their beds and thrown into cells, Richard making sure they will be given a fair trial instead of just being put to death on the spot. The Mord-Sith are not happy about it but he’s made it clear that he is in charge. It makes me proud of him and certainly proud to stand by his side.
“Is that everyone?” Richard asks, turning to Harte, who hung back as best he could through the whole ordeal.
“Yes,” Harte says with a tired nod.
“You will never get away with this!” The former governor Aaron bellows from his rather overcrowded cell. “The people will not stand for it.”
“The people helped us put you where you belong,” I remind him, indicating a few of the town’s folk as they lock cell doors and clear away weapons.
His curses cause me to turn away, leaving them to their fates as Harte thanks us for helping him take back his position. He spent many years banished, fending for himself, and he plans to pull the town out of the mire his brother had drug it into. Morning will not arrive for many candle marks yet, when he will begin abolishing rules and laws that served only to suppress the people rather than keep them safe. He is adamant that there will be no challenge to his decisions, as his brother’s only supporters were his henchmen and paid help.
Making our way up to the nicer, more formal rooms past flickering torches, we thank the town’s people for their help and send them home, turning a blind eye when the Mord-Sith slip away into the night. Garen remains with us and I wonder why; though she seems reluctant to leave Cara’s side so I suppose the answer is right before me. It makes me feel itchy and irritated, but I say nothing.
“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Harte says, shaking our hands with his frail one, his back straighter and eyes suddenly brighter, a transformation of spirit making him seem much more noble and able now. “This town is in your debt; no longer will they fear what lies behind the walls, or what lies within.”
I give him a warm smile, assuring him that his thanks are not necessary.
“Tomorrow I will lift the spell from this house as your good wizard here tells me it’s not one he’s familiar with,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. “I feel a little tired, however, and the thought of my own bed after so many years is far too appealing to resist much longer. I bid you goodnight.”
With that he is gone, leaving us to choose which rooms we take for the night; telling us that they are all similar. A few of the people who helped us have stayed, resuming old duties in the service of the governor, keeping an eye on those in the cells, and promising us clean sheets and a hot meal if needed. My body feels the lure of sleep, of a soft bed, though I feel awkward as I wonder just where I will be spending the rest of the night.
Of course, given a choice I would stay with Cara, but as the four of us - plus Garen -linger in the main living room awaiting notice that the bedrooms are ready, we decide nothing. At least, nothing until Zedd clears his throat and pulls Richard to one side, far enough away for their words to be incoherent mumbles and whispers.
“Well that’s rude,” Garen says with a glare in their direction as she paces in front of the fireplace.
Cara grunts, separating our belongings as she finds her own pack and sets it aside.
“It is not our place to teach the Lord Rahl manners,” she mumbles.
Garen chuckles, shaking her head at Cara as I sit and watch their easy interaction.
“He is not the Lord Rahl,” Garen insists, though she sounds less convinced than she did just days before.
Cara’s eyes narrow, a retort on the tip of her tongue. I find myself staring at her lips as she licks them, her eyes boring into Garen. Just the memory of those lips against mine makes me shudder. I could become so lost in the softness of them, the promises they would make me.
“Kahlan,” I hear spoken quietly beside me, breaking me from my thoughts.
I turn my head to meet Richard’s eyes, his face open and full of love as he smiles at me.
Instantly I wonder if I’ve missed anything else that he may have said, but he doesn’t seem overly concerned so I give him a gentle smile and shuffle over a little on the plush sofa, making room for him to sit beside me. For a moment I wonder if he will speak again, or just sit quietly gloating over his sound decisions today - not that he has bragged about being right, but there is an air about him that clearly suggests he feels good about himself right now.
I do not have to wait long for him to continue.
“Zedd says there is a nice big room at the bottom of the corridor on this floor,” he says, a slight blush beginning to creep over his cheeks.
Zedd gives me a little nod and a smile as I glance his way, my stomach turning as I fear the worst. The old wizard has obviously conspired to throw Richard and I together tonight; with the spell still on the house that will suppress my magic making it a safe option. My hands begin to shake as I rest them on my thighs, biting back my rising anger.
“Really,” I say, giving nothing away, willing Richard not to ask what I know he will ask as I look into his hopeful eyes.
He nods shyly, turning fully to me and speaking even quieter.
“We could . . .” He looks down, reaching out and taking one of my hands in his own.
I fight the urge to shrink back from him as it would only confuse him, and hurt him. This is Zedd’s fault and I will have words with him for placing me in this position, but for now I must decide what to say, if to accept his invitation.
Looking towards Cara as she holds herself stiff on the sofa across the room makes my heart ache. I can see that she has guessed Richard’s intentions, her jaw clenched and eyes heavy and dark with a brewing storm. I watch, unable to move as she holds my gaze briefly before looking away. I don’t wish to hurt her, and I know this would - how could it not? She may be Mord-Sith and insist that she doesn’t have feelings, but I can see them so clearly now.
“Let’s talk,” I say to Richard, allowing him to take my hand as I raise from the chair and head for the door.
I avoid Cara’s eyes, not wishing to cause Richard concern, or to make it obvious that she is the reason I am about to break his heart. I just hope she doesn’t think I’m willingly heading to bed with him, to give him what I wish to only share with Cara. I will find her afterwards and explain.
Once Richard and I are moving down the corridor - Richard shouldering both our packs - I remove my hand from his, fiddling with my hair and my clothing so I no longer have to feel the warmth of his skin against mine and the way it burns me with guilt instead of passion. He glances my way but I give him a small smile so as not to worry him. I feel my stomach tying itself into knots, my heart beginning to thud as we reach the doors to the room he expects us to share. My nerves get the better of me as I linger behind him as he enters and he turns to me, such a caring, kind smile on his lips I almost decide not to do this to him, and to stay by his side. But just remembering that Cara sits elsewhere in the villa - her heart also in my hands - makes me resolve myself to this fate. To hurting a man who does not deserve it.
“Are you nervous?” Richard asks softly as he places our things down on a chair next to the very large, opulent bed. He chuckles a little then continues. “I have to admit, I am.”
I notice the boyish flush to his cheeks and feel sick to my stomach. I look away, anywhere but at his eyes as I move further in, running my fingers over the soft blanket of the bed.
“If you’re . . . if you’re not ready or . . .” Richard stutters, dropping his gaze to the floor as he picks up on my unease.
My heart goes out to him, loving him still - even more in that moment - though not in the way he needs. I sit down on the edge of the bed, trying to come up with the words. How do you tell a man that you have fallen out of love with him?
“Richard,” I begin, drawing his full attention as he stands before me, “it’s not that.”
Patting the bed beside me I urge him to sit.
“I know we never thought we’d be able to . . .” he starts, before I silence him with a soft touch to his face.
I can’t seem to find the words, the way to say them, my mind blank as I look into those eyes that still make me feel so safe. I’ve never had a friend like him, and probably never will again if he decides he can no longer have me travel by his side. Drawing Richard a little closer with my hand cupping his cheek I place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Taking his hand as I lean back again, I take a deep breath and pray to the Sprits that he will understand.
“You know that I love you,” I say, Richard’s eyes brightening at my words. I sigh softly and continue. “And that you’ve become the greatest friend that I could have ever wished for - one that I hope to keep.”
“Of course we’ll always be friends,” Richard interrupts, his hand giving mine a squeeze, a look on his face that clearly suggests he doesn’t know where I’m going with this at all.
“Do you promise that?” I ask, knowing I have no right.
“Yes, Kahlan,” he assures instantly, though his brows knit together as he tries to understand. “What’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you? We don’t have to . . .” He looks down at the bed and I close my eyes, urging myself to find the strength to do what I must.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Richard. It’s me, I . . .” I know my choice of words are foolish, but I plough ahead as I think of Cara and all that I’ve begun to feel for her despite my love for this kind man. “I don’t feel the same anymore.”
Barely a whisper, the words linger in the air as if they hadn’t been said at all, Richard’s eyes looking into mine as if he’s searching for something. Tears form in the dark depths of his eyes as his mind begins to focus on what I’ve just said, ripping at my insides.
“What do you mean?” he asks after what feels like a lifetime, his voice sounding so strange, so foreign. “You don’t love me? But you just said you do, and that . . .”
“I do love you,” I say, knowing I probably shouldn’t. I’m just confusing the matter. “But not in the way I did.”
Like a slap to his face, the words make Richard lean back, looking hard at me.
“Why?” he asks, a lone tear marking a path down his cheek as he begins to understand. “What changed? What did I do?”
Anger very quickly takes hold and he swipes at his tears, getting up from the bed beside me to stride back and forth. I try to reply but he shakes his head, brow deeply furrowed. I try not to worry as his hand lands on the hilt of his sword; I know he would never hurt me, but the action certainly won’t help with his anger.
“I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong, Richard,” I say, interrupting. Rising, I rest my hand on his forearm, stalling his pacing. “You’re closer to me than anybody has ever been; I will always care about you, I just can’t be what you need me to be, what we once thought we would be.”
“I don’t understand, Kahlan,” he tells me, his voice breaking, eyes flashing between hurt and anger. “We’ve been through so much. I want you to be my wife, to . . . to be with you forever. I thought we both wanted that. I thought . . .”
I place a hand on his face, bringing his gaze to rest more fully on mine, hoping he can see how much I hate to do this, and how much he truly means to me. I know - am sure now - as I look into his depths, that he is not the man I will spend my life with; not as anything other than a friend. A friend I would still die for, but just a friend nonetheless.
“We were thrown together, Richard,” I say, needing to make him see this clearly, for what it is. “And yes, I did once think I wanted all those things, and if . . .”
Looking away I search for how to explain without telling him about Cara and how I feel for her; how she showed me what it truly is to want. If she hadn’t come along maybe I would never have questioned my heart and Richard’s place within it.
“If what?” he demands and I flinch back a little at his rising temper. “You tell me I haven’t done anything wrong, but things don’t just change for no reason, Kahlan.”
Too close to telling him the truth and putting Cara in possible danger, I turn my back, hands to my face as I take a deep breath.
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” I say with a sigh, needing him to just let go of me. “I can’t give you the part of me that you want, that you need. I thought I could, but I know now that I just can’t, and it’s not fair to lie to you or have you believe everything is how it should be, when it’s not.”
Cryptic though my words may seem, I’m doing my best to keep his heart from breaking completely.
“I’m not giving up on this, Kahlan. On us,” he says quietly. “You’re just scared, and I understand that.”
His hand rests lightly on my shoulder, a slight squeeze making me turn to face him. I want to tell him that my heart lies elsewhere, that my desires lie elsewhere, but I won’t.
“Richard, listen to me,” I say softly, placing both my hands on his face. “You deserve a woman who will love you completely. And this isn’t about my confessor magic,” I interrupt as I see the familiar pity in his eyes, “it’s about me. I’m sorry, Richard,” I finish, letting him go.
His mouth opens and closes; the wheels and cogs turning in his head, figuring out why this is happening and how he can change things.
“I put too much pressure on you,” he mutters. “It’s my fault, but I can fix . . .”
“No, Richard,” I exclaim, my voice harder now. “I don’t want to hurt you but I can’t be with you. Please, try to understand.”
Richard’s chin hits his chest as he hangs his head, the deep pain within him making me want to take him in my arms to soothe him, but I stay at arm’s length as I see the anger in him beginning to boil over; his pride a bloody mess on the floor.
“This isn’t right,” he mumbles. “Something is wrong. Something happened to you.”
Unable to take much more of this I walk to the door, grasping the handle tightly.
“Think what you want, Richard,” I say, my back to him. “I just hope one day you can forgive me.”
My words hold more meaning than he knows, because when he finds out about my feelings for Cara he will feel terribly betrayed. I pull the door open, unable to stand the hurt in his eyes much longer. He stalks past me before I can leave.
“You have the room, Kahlan,” he says gruffly, stepping into the corridor. “We’ll talk in the morning. Zedd will know what’s wrong.”
Before I can say anything further, or assure him that there is no point in talking more about this, and that Zedd can not make me fall back in love with him, he storms down the darkened corridor. He moves quickly out of sight, leaving me clutching at my chest as I feel the absoluteness of what I’ve just done.
TBC ...