For Her Favor, Pt 10
For Her Favor, Pt. 10
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Cara/Kahlan/Dahlia, Denna/Snake
Warnings: Extreme non-con, torture, Agiel violence, hurt/comfort, bdsm, gore, angst, Mord’Sith temper, domestic violence, evil!cara, language
Author’s Note: AU. Snake trained Denna to be Mord'Sith.
Summary: Mistress Cara wants to own a Confessor. Dahlia wants to give her one.
Disclaimer: I only own my sickness. Not for profit, only for demented fun. Legend of the Seeker characters and depictions belong to Terry Goodkind, Disney and ABC Studios.
For Gizmo :D
When Dahlia awoke, Kahlan's head was resting on her chest, at her heart, trying to make sense of it. Dahlia found herself in a simple white dress, with sleeves that were long and material that was warm. Cara had packed it with the knowledge that she would need it one way or another for when she finally found Dahlia.
The carelessness of the sun through the window burned at Dahlia. She was Mord’Sith, capable of ending a string of lives with a single touch, and the only recourse she had on this morning against her own discomfort was to turn her face and look somewhere else.
"Mistress, did I wake you?"
Dahlia shook her head, rattling the raw soreness of her neck and quickly finding solace in petting Kahlan, taking long clean strokes through her hair.
"Mistress..." Kahlan purred delightfully, looking around anxiously, knowing how forbidden this was. Dahlia's other hand remained strictly imprisoned by the chain to the bed. She expected nothing less from Cara.
Dahlia's voice was slightly stronger than it had been in the darkness, but far more tearful. "Do you think one day I’ll escape her?"
"One day." Kahlan sniffled, trying not to reveal the doubt in her eyes even though her Mistress couldn't see them.
"She went to get water for you. And the horses." Kahlan moved up to kiss her, wishing she could somehow understand that Cara hadn't replaced her. "But I could've done it."
Dahlia stopped her indecently, turning her cheek. "You'll get sick."
"I don't care," Kahlan whined, "You can't know how much I missed you."
"I do know," she replied tenderly, bringing the Confessor's head back down into her shoulder. "Have you behaved, Kahlan?"
She shook her head shamefully, remembering all her mistakes. "No, Mistress."
"It shows." She tried to smile, straining her eyes against the newfound brightness of the room. It just felt better to close them altogether.
"Mistress?"
Dahlia coughed. "Yes, Kahlan?"
"I'm sorry I hurt Mistress Cara."
"I know."
"She hates me." It pained her to vocalize such a thing.
"No," Dahlia said, touching her earlobe, pinching it, "she doesn't. You would be a skeleton if she did."
"I felt like one without you." Although Kahlan knew it was wrong to question her Mistress on this, she felt helpless in her certainty about Cara. She gulped, exhaled. "Will I always love you this much?"
There was no hesitation, no question. "Yes."
The idea of it overwhelmed Kahlan, froze her and thawed her in one harrowing instant. If she wasn't so overjoyed to be with her Mistress, the despair would've choked every ounce of precious air from her body and expelled it above them.
"I dreamt about you," Dahlia said, smirking just so.
"You did?" Kahlan squeaked, suddenly embarrassed by herself.
"Mistress Cara. She was lowering us into a fire pit, tied together, back to back. You were so scared and struggling so hard, Kahlan. I told you to stop, how much she likes that."
"What did I do?" Kahlan nuzzled into her, so impossibly comforted.
"You stopped," Dahlia's eyes inexplicably watered as they opened and her voice cracked, "and it saved us."
Kahlan smiled, imagining it, and astonishingly proud of herself. Then her eyes grew sadder. "You struggled last night, Mistress."
"Yes," Dahlia admitted, exhaustion beginning to set in once again. "I'm Mord'Sith. It is always my choice to struggle."
"She is your Mistress." It came out more as a question than Kahlan had intended as she tried to understand this concept, and more than anything, needed Dahlia to explain it, needed her voice to make sense of this new life that they now found themselves in.
"Not anymore."
***
Mistress Nathair, or Snake as she was called by Cara and Dahlia, circled her own bed and watched as Denna slept on her stomach, exactly in the middle of it. Her sleep was more sound than it had been in her youth, and Snake found it more interesting than she did disturbing or telling. Denna's face was perfect as it laid squished on the pillow and it was only when peeking underneath the covers at her unclothed body were the workings of Lord Rahl and his devices apparent from every horrifying dimension that ranged from Denna's collarbone all the way to her toes.
She had not broken, not given a single shred of information to Lord Rahl or any of her Sisters about the location or intentions of the missing Mord'Sith. After many unsuccessful sessions, he had cut Denna down and towered over her unconscious body, fruitfully deciding to send his finest quad to call upon Mistress Nathair. For Snake.
She crawled into bed, taking Denna into her arms like an coddled child, waking her instantly.
Denna had not seen her Mistress, or at least her like this in her leather, in far too long.
"Mistress Denna..." Snake said, shifting all of Denna's freshly washed blonde hair to one side of her shoulder, exposing her neck. It was and always had been her favorite part of Denna. It was so vulnerable, not like the guarded rest of her. It was the only place where her skin had no remarkable defense.
"Yes, Mistress?" Denna shivered, enjoying this contact, and some parts of her reverting aimlessly to her childhood despite her best efforts not to retreat there.
"Do you remember," she mused softly, running her fingers along Denna's unmarred throat, "when you were twelve years old and I caught you with Dahlia? You were placed in that small closet across the hall while I was instructing Cara. There was barely any air, no light, nor promise of anything. When I finally returned to you, you had Dahlia on her knees between your little legs, and she was so beaten that I immediately strung you up and soothed her."
"I remember, Mistress."
"Do you remember what I told you?"
Denna nodded, recalling it fondly. "Sisterhood was sometimes about sacrifice. We should've been fighting about who died first to give the other the remaining time."
"Do you remember what you thought was fair to trade?"
"I didn't want Cara to see her like that." Denna's eyes shined at the memory of young Cara. So courageous.
"That's right, Denna. That's good..."
"If Dahlia would be allowed to heal before Cara saw her again, Dahlia could do the same thing to me that I had done to her."
"You were afraid of Cara?"
"No," Denna said, watching Snake's lips, oddly missing them. "I feared nothing."
"You respected Cara."
"Yes."
"You loved Cara," she pressed.
"Yes."
"You wanted her to be loved by Dahlia."
"She deserved something."
"She deserved Dahlia's love and not yours?" Snake asked quietly, squeezing Denna's body at it's most feeble points, smashing her raw skin into her throbbing bone.
Denna considered it, and no immediate answer came to mind. Snake's lips pouted before they touched deliciously at the base of her neck. Denna loved it, loved that she had something her Mistress could still desire.
"And if I put you and Dahlia back into the closet right now, you would die so that she may live five minutes longer?"
Denna moaned lowly and timidly. "Yes."
"Their freedom is that closet, Denna. Can't you see that?"
Denna put her hands on her Mistress, smiling when she was awarded her tighter embrace in return, knowing the comfort she had to offer. Although Denna was strong, her Mistress was stronger.
"Denna...my child," Snake cooed, keeping their hug just intense enough so Denna couldn't feel the pain of her injuries, "where are Mistress Cara and Mistress Dahlia?"
Denna whimpered for the first time in her adult life.
Snake hushed her, moved so that Denna may fully rest her head on her shoulder and spoke gently into her ear. "Because you are my family, and I cherish you, I have influenced Lord Rahl in your favor. Cara has a young niece. I want her brought into this Temple and trained as Mord'Sith by Cara's hand."
"I don't understand, Mistress."
"Lord Rahl will welcome both of them back into our family on this condition. Isn't that wonderful?"
Denna thought about the offer with a clear mind. "Children mean as much as dogs to Cara."
"I have always been generous with you, Denna. Spoiled you even. I granted your request that day and let her face heal. Cara never found out. And when Dahlia's softness prevented her from carrying out your punishment, I let it go. Now I'm counting on you alone. You must save them. They will die out there."
"Dahlia. She..." Denna swallowed, gritted pain emerged, "trained Cara's Confessor for her own selfish purposes. Love purposes. Naturally I thought Dahlia had better taste, of course. Cara discovered this and she was...was..." She thought of Cara falling to her knees in devastation.
"Heartbroken," Snake firmly guessed.
Denna nodded. "Yes, that. I tied Dahlia down while Cara left to punish the Confessor. I was so...proud of Dahlia. Finally. I made a gift of that worthless brat Aven and helped them leave the Temple."
"Where was she headed?"
Denna closed her eyes, felt the words ache on her tongue. "Balter Mountains."
"Are you certain?"
"I told her to go through them. That I would protect her."
"She was right to trust you."
"They..." Denna hesitated, feeling Snake's hand come between her legs, "were right to escape."
"Escape is only an illusion, Denna. And it always will be. You will be my pet for now. You may never be Mord'Sith again."
Denna took Snake's fingers, ignored how they burned, fractured by this. "I will always be Mord'Sith."
"I will cut your hair in the morning. It would please me to enjoy it tonight."
***
Dahlia's eyes locked on Cara, seeing her differently in the daylight, as she stood in the doorway for a moment and then proceeded to her bedside.
"You look better." Cara produced the key to the chain and unlocked it, and Dahlia immediately crossed her arms protectively and looked down at them. Cara leaned down and brushed her lips against Dahlia's cheek, trying to raise it.
"Don't touch me, Cara." She wiped with her freed palm where she had kissed.
Cara did it again, rougher. Then to the other side of her face, grazing her teeth against Dahlia's skin until she was pushed harshly away by her ear.
Cara pulled back and inhaled through her nostrils, bowing her head briefly, gathering her pointed rage before grabbing Dahlia by both her wrists and dragging her rapidly to the ground as if pushing her from a great height. She hit loud enough for Kahlan to come running.
"Stay back, Kahlan," Dahlia warned, halting her at the doorway.
"You ungrateful bitch!" Cara roared, pulling her up and shaking her vigorously by her captured wrists. "I saved your life!"
"After you destroyed it!" Dahlia shouted back, with equal accusation, looking right into her and all the way past her.
Cara dropped her hold, sinking Dahlia down into the floor and stood straight up, removing her Agiel from it's firm holster. "You want to scream?!"
"Mistress-" Kahlan pleaded, watching the weapon come from Cara's thigh at half the speed it actually did.
"Shut up!" Cara screeched with shattered irreverence. "You’re next!"
"Do it, Cara! Kill us both. Spare us from the eternal torment of any life with you!"
Cara's blood heated at her words and all she could to expel the mounting and gut wrenching rage was to drive her Agiel down hard and fast into Dahlia's chest, allowing it to cry into Dahlia's fragile body, and realizing that halfway through it, as Dahlia shook and squirmed, that part of her wished to just stop. She thought, if Dahlia screamed, she would stop.
But she never screamed.
The only sound that arose, other than the wail of the Agiel, was a piercing cry from Kahlan as she ran forward. By the time she reached Dahlia's side and threw herself down next to her, Cara had ceased her assault and was already choked up, horrified and resigned.
She dropped her Agiel to the floor. She had finally done it. Dahlia was dead again. Her soul was on it's way to the Underworld. She had just acted out her most intense and most persisting nightmare and it was even worse than her mind had ever been able to threaten.
Kahlan looked up at the Mord‘Sith, primed and brimming with more disgust and sadness than she had ever been capable of feeling for anyone, even in the darkest hours of her earliest training and earliest desperations.
Cara immediately collapsed down, taking Dahlia's cooling lips in between her own, summoning the Breath of Life with so much resolve and anger, that, it would not come at all. There was no focus to be had. She had never killed Dahlia before.
Cara looked up numbly, frantically clutching Dahlia's face. "It's not working!" The rage was suffocating her.
"Think of your love for her, Mistress, please!" Kahlan's eyes widened, blackening against the unnatural pull of the Rada'han as it danced violently with the sadistic strength of the Con Dar. The thought of losing Mistress all over again was somewhere her mind shut her away from, refusing her any access to the idea.
"What have I done?" Cara whispered, closing her eyes, concentrating on the magic within her as the years turned back in her mind, churning through the randomness of her memories...
Dahlia thrashing awake from a nightmare and calling only for her.
The first time Dahlia kissed her, she trembled and knew it was possible to tremble that way forever.
Dahlia's infectious giggle during the thunderstorm that marked the first night they slept in their own bed together.
Finding a lonely flower in the middle of the corridor and running it to Dahlia, placing it in her hair and finding it so beautiful that she hurried away and cried.
Dahlia, with her finger, marking the symbol for love into her bare back as she was being dressed by her.
Dahlia pushing her back, throwing herself in the path of a lightning bolt that targeted them.
Dahlia's hysterical attempts to teach her how to slow dance.
The adoring pride in Dahlia's eyes the day they became Mistresses. The feeling of completeness and accomplishment, believing the Breath of Life would now make Dahlia eternal to her. The price and weight had been worth it.
Finally, it stirred inside her, needing to be released into Dahlia for the love that it was, remembering that she was precious, unique, and mortal. She had been the only thing worth protecting and treasuring amid all the darkness, death and misery. Where many girls had relented and perished, they thrived on their belief and ever-present loyalty to one another, and when one was weak, the other had strength to lend, and even in the hardest of times when it seemed like nothing positive could ever come from their lives or their dreams, they had each other. And it was everything.
The magic entered Dahlia and loomed first around her heart, warming it, encouraging it to beat once again. She had so much to live for. Dahlia jolted awake with the distinct and lasting knowledge of this.
As the first breath expelled from her aching lungs, Cara lifted her and hugged her wildly without even letting her properly regain herself. "I'm sorry," she exhaled fully into Dahlia's ear. "Leave us," she ordered Kahlan awkwardly.
Kahlan sniffled back her relief and reluctantly obeyed, trusting Cara's intentions but keeping her eyes on them just the same until she reached the door and hurried outside, thanking the Spirits all over again.
"You're okay," Cara insisted, trying to convince herself just as readily, "you're okay."
"Cara..." Dahlia cried, working through her disbelief, "you truly wish me dead?"
"No!" Cara exclaimed, sounding like little girl caught in a vicious lie. "I just want to take you home."
Although her voice failed to find itself, Dahlia's eyes said there was no going back.
"Dahlia, we can't stay here." She wasn't only speaking about the cabin.
"Just leave me here. Take Kahlan with you." She was out of breath, winded by the empowering experience of revival.
"I would die first," Cara promised, "it's not happening. Where you go, I go."
"Why?" Dahlia asked, pausing in her regrouping. "Everything's changed."
"Not everything."
The sadness crippled Dahlia's face, and her eyes held the majority of it. "Enough of it has."
"All I've ever done, Dahlia," she replied, dabbing at a tear that dotted her eyelash, "was so you could live. So that we could be happy."
The word "happy" made Dahlia sniffle, and made her look one shade brighter. She felt a certain level of shame and longing pinch at her cheeks, traveling through her jaw and into her reddening lips. She wished Cara could feel it, even for a moment. "We had everything once."
"We still do. We're going to get through this... look at all I've pulled us through. I can do this."
Softly, she reminded her. "You can’t do everything."
"I used to think that pain was mostly weakness leaving the body," Cara said, looking away, focused on a crack in the floor. "But there is nothing," she continued, swiping once more at her eyelid, "like the pain of your hatred."
Dahlia found one more tear that could be brushed from Cara‘s cheek. "Never think that. Do you hear me, Cara?"
"I never wanted to live to see these days. I can’t believe I have."
"As I wanted you more, you needed me less."
"But I own so much of you-" Cara began, unsure of how to piece any of it together.
"You’ve given me a heart of my own," Dahlia finished for her, "which has always loved you."
Cara’s eyes lifted back up, and she was able to find some small way to smile.
Dahlia looked at her, blinked carelessly a few times before she really saw anything concrete within Cara. There was truth there, and contended turmoil. There was a sense of not knowing how far she had drifted, or how long. There was so much missing and deceived, conquered and abundant. Either way, her eyes were clearer. They were no longer tinted as deep with the olive darkness and insanity of the night or even years before.
Dahlia wanted to believe her, wanted to smooth the past down as if it were leather against her body and wear it forever.
"Kahlan!" Cara called, sluggishly kissing Dahlia's forehead. For Dahlia and Kahlan both, it was the first time they ever heard Cara's voice speak her name without hate and malice congealed on each syllable.
"Yes, Mistress?" Kahlan materialized at the door almost instantly, a cold sweat lining her brow.
"Come to your Mistress Dahlia. She wants to be held by you."
Kahlan lit up as she dashed forward, first helping to move Dahlia back up to the relative warmth of bed before Cara let go and allowed Kahlan to take her into her arms. Cara covered them up and turned to go. Dahlia could never know how hard it was.
But she did know. "Cara-" Dahlia called, reaching out and pulling at Cara's wrist, the one that had been scratched by the cuff, preventing her exit.
She turned the upper half of her body, looking at the wall above their heads and not at them directly. She had her limits.
"Stay," Dahlia asked.
It wasn't so much an order as it was a gentle request. Cara narrowed her eyes, almost feeling the depth of color adjust within them. She nodded once and stood there on strong feet, allowing Dahlia to move her touch up gradually into her hand, joining their fingers, bare hand into glove, drawing her forward a few simple steps until she could not move any closer to the bed.
There was no way of knowing if Cara had meant only to leave the room or to leave them altogether.
Kahlan watched Cara closely, trying to figure her out for what she was, trying to both welcome her and forgive her for the danger she consistently and heinously posed to Dahlia and undoubtedly always would. As much as she craved this time with Mistress Dahlia, she inexplicably wanted Mistress Cara to be there as well. They were each half of something that balanced her, constructed her and bound her.
Kahlan squirmed over, keeping Dahlia firmly in tow, and made room for Cara.
"Cara, please," Dahlia said, "I’m cold." She knew Cara would never let her stay that way for very long.
***
Snake’s mirror was big. It was meant for someone who enjoyed their appearance.
Denna sat crossed legged in front of it and looked at her new hair, picked at the shoulders of her beige dress and touched the gash on her lip. It stung, and it pleaded not to be bothered again as it healed. She touched it again and smiled. It hurt to smile too.
"Denna," Snake said, and Denna’s eyes followed Snake’s legs as they approached in the mirror from behind.
They were bruised and scraped and littered with scars and torn muscles. She pulled Denna back by the jagged tips of her hair and kneeled down next to her.
"You say ‘yes, Mistress?’ when I call you," she reminded her, twisting her grip.
Though Denna couldn’t move her neck, her eyes moved back to the reflection in the mirror. She looked again at her shoulder length hair and licked her lips. "Are you sure I can’t persuade you to go shorter?"
Snake’s Agiel was deep in her throat before she was even finished posing the question in full.
"Your mouth," Snake said, gagging her on the length of it as it moved, "is not as precious as it used to be."
She removed the Agiel and brought it along Denna’s cheek, grinding it at her forehead.
Denna giggled sourly as she lost her bearings and slumped onto her stomach, disappointed when the weapon didn’t follow her lead. She heard it being re-holstered and grimaced as Snake rose and flipped her over, simply shoving her boot under Denna‘s belly and kicking it over like a stone in her path.
As Denna’s increasing laughter robbed her of air, she swore in between her gasps, "you will never find them."
Snake smiled. "How would you like to bear a child for me, Denna?"
Denna choked on the last of her humor and stared straight up at her, feeling something heavy swirl within her chest, and it stole all sense of amusement and orientation.
"A little girl," Snake nodded, crossing her arms, "I would prefer."
"Mistress," Denna quickly corrected herself, coming to her knees, bowing her head. "Forgive me."
"A little girl with your brilliant blonde hair, those hungry eyes, that smile. I could have you all over again, couldn’t I?"
Denna crawled the couple inches and grabbed at Snake’s thigh, rested her head into it. "You have me."
"Good girl, Denna," Snake said, patting her head once. Denna exhaled, though far from relieved.
Snake moved thoughtfully, guiding Denna up by her chin until they were standing face to face, and her pet finally looked into her eyes. Denna saw what she often knew her pets found visible within her. The ownership, the lust, the knowledge that a Mistress never threatened anything that she wasn‘t immediately prepared to see through until the end. The unsteadiness swayed Denna ridiculously into her Mistress’ direction.
Snake circled her index finger around deep into Denna’s stomach, almost severing the fabric with the sharpness of her fingernails. "If I desire it," she said, "I would rip a child from your womb and never let it leave my side."
"I would kill it first," Denna replied, not even remotely convinced at the cheapness of the lie itself or her delivery of it.
Snake smacked her rigidly across her face. It was how Cara slapped. "You would do no such thing," she reprimanded coldly. "She would be a part of you. The most innocent part of you. The best part of you. And she would be mine."
Denna clasped Snake's hand, the one that began to touch at her hip, and brought it to her mouth, sucking two fingers down from it, kissing them breathlessly as Snake removed them, fighting to keep them.
"That’s better," Snake whispered in approval, pulling Denna into her. "I love you most when you’re like this. Now open your mouth and give it to me. And don’t you say a word."
Denna kept it closed, swallowing all of her saliva and licked the back row of her teeth, half stalling and half in rebellion.
Snake bit and nibbled on Denna’s sore lower lip before she took control of her tongue, thrashing inside, and quieting her and bending her where so many others, including their Lord, had failed.
As Snake lowered her to the ground, Denna thought about Cara. Wondered about her. Imagined her. Her movements could be so similar to their Mistress sometimes. The casual disregard for her comfort had been passed down almost as an art form as now Denna’s legs were caught shamelessly behind her back as Snake folded her in half.
Snake’s hands never lost their way up a pet’s dress. It was nowhere near as complicated as the respectable leather of a Mord’Sith and there were no buckles to unlatch, no strings to untie, nothing to wait for, and nothing dangerous about it.
"Do you like being on your back for me, Denna?"
"Yes, Mistress," she replied flatly, "I love this."
"Liar," Snake said, punching her face playfully, retracting her other hand at the same time.
Snake gracefully slid off of her, to her feet, and disappeared across the room out of Denna's sight. She didn't dare move, and let the pain of the blood pooling in her limbs soothe and distract her. She instinctively brought her arms around her stomach and touched it lightly with the tip of her thumb. When she heard Snake returning, she quickly returned her hands to her side and blinked.
Snake was wearing a phallus, over her leather, and returned to top Denna. She simply inched up Denna's dress and shoved it inside her, ripping into her, grinning as Denna tensed and momentarily resisted.
"You should always be wet for me," Snake suggested, pulling out, then crashing in. "This is a glimpse of what it will feel like," she swore, pushing her down by her pelvic bone, riding her harder than any man other than Lord Rahl had ever dared to do, "when I have a line of a sweaty slaves fucking you every day and every night until you conceive."
Denna stared into her, pleading with both eyes of her own as the thrusts came quicker and she was truly overpowered.
"You will obey me, you whore," Snake grunted, "Cara was mine," she pushed deeper, "and Dahlia was mine. They only believe they love each other because I made it so."
"No..." Denna heard herself whine.
"Yes," Snake pumped her, grabbing at her throat, "for their own survival. They were each so weak in their own way."
"Cara," Denna dared, "was never weak a day in her life."
Snake kissed her forehead and rolled over, placing Denna on top. Everything about it looked like Cara and Dahlia.
"Who knows what you would've been had I willed things differently," Snake wondered, taking Denna's waist, slamming into her.
The thought crumbled Denna's heart and she placed her hands submissively on Snake's chest to balance herself and hung her head. It was something Snake could not recall ever seeing from her. Denna rode her softly, hoping to lose herself in the pleasure, the pain, the servitude.
"Come for me, Denna," Snake demanded, "you'll feel better."
Denna knew she was right about that, and she sped up, allowing her body to respond, to forget. She thought of Cara, missing her more than she could ever admit, and hopelessly longing for a life she had not lived, a love she had not known. This was all she had. It had to be enough.
"Mistress," Denna whispered, "harder."
Snake complied and Denna leaned down viciously, took in her mouth with one swoop, and kissed it like she never meant to be anywhere else. She didn't want any more words to come from it.
As Denna finally began to come, she cried out into Snake's ear, shivering at the bitter shame of the rush and neediness as it started to claim her.
Snake jumped on this, using the reserves of her strength to impale herself into Denna, knowing how vital it was to addict Denna to these moments, to reward her for the obedience, and to remind her that no matter what kind of Mord'Sith she may have been, she was now her pet and wouldn't always be fucked so graciously.
Denna came so hard that as she fell forward, spent, she crushed Snake's face and could've easily broken her nose had Snake not predicted the move and turned her head accordingly.
Tears lined Denna's eyes and they were eager to escape her but she forced them all back. Snake rocked herself until she was sitting up, taking Denna with her and hugged her. She ran her fingers through Denna's hair, not missing it's length and fullness.
Snake raised her eyebrow. "Never forget that I would name that child Cara."
***
Cara, Dahlia and Kahlan laid in bed, in silence, until Dahlia fell asleep. Her breathing was getting better. With every moment that edged on and passed, her resilience was mending itself.
They looked at each other quietly, and Kahlan smiled. She reached over Dahlia's body and touched Cara's face, smiling even more when she didn't recoil from it.
Cara motioned for her to get up. As carefully as they could, they each lifted themselves away from Dahlia, and as Cara rounded the bed, Kahlan waited for her and took her hand. Neither of them looked back at Dahlia. They knew she could handle herself in this.
Silently, Cara led the way and they headed outside, into the strange combination of sun and instant coldness and down along a path, until Cara stopped them. She stood proudly, presenting her discovery with only a twinkle in her eye. A hot spring. Kahlan was so excited that she squeezed the Mord'Sith into a giddy hug and began undressing her without asking or receiving the proper permission.
Instead of jumping instantly into the comfort of the hot water, Cara waited until Kahlan had removed her Confessor's dress before she considered moving forward. Cara tested the temperature first with her foot, then eased herself down into it and reached up slowly for Kahlan's hand.
The gesture was so thoughtful that Kahlan had to rub her eyes before she reached back out and accepted it.
As soon as her body was fully submerged, Cara embraced her, as if in a panic, pressing against every inch of her and settling herself in Kahlan's fumbling arms. Kahlan carried them into the middle of the spring and looked around at their surroundings. The beauty of nature was all around them, coating these breathtaking mountains and grandly sparkled within every cloud, every drop of this water, and in each and every breath they drew and took.
But they could see none of this. They each only saw the frailty of the other.
"If you hurt her," Cara vowed, "I will bring you back here, drown you right in this spot and swear to her that you ran off in the night."
"I know, Mistress," she replied shyly, kissing at Cara's plumped top lip. Her voice grew more confident, "I know."
***
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Cara/Kahlan/Dahlia, Denna/Snake
Warnings: Extreme non-con, torture, Agiel violence, hurt/comfort, bdsm, gore, angst, Mord’Sith temper, domestic violence, evil!cara, language
Author’s Note: AU. Snake trained Denna to be Mord'Sith.
Summary: Mistress Cara wants to own a Confessor. Dahlia wants to give her one.
Disclaimer: I only own my sickness. Not for profit, only for demented fun. Legend of the Seeker characters and depictions belong to Terry Goodkind, Disney and ABC Studios.
For Gizmo :D
When Dahlia awoke, Kahlan's head was resting on her chest, at her heart, trying to make sense of it. Dahlia found herself in a simple white dress, with sleeves that were long and material that was warm. Cara had packed it with the knowledge that she would need it one way or another for when she finally found Dahlia.
The carelessness of the sun through the window burned at Dahlia. She was Mord’Sith, capable of ending a string of lives with a single touch, and the only recourse she had on this morning against her own discomfort was to turn her face and look somewhere else.
"Mistress, did I wake you?"
Dahlia shook her head, rattling the raw soreness of her neck and quickly finding solace in petting Kahlan, taking long clean strokes through her hair.
"Mistress..." Kahlan purred delightfully, looking around anxiously, knowing how forbidden this was. Dahlia's other hand remained strictly imprisoned by the chain to the bed. She expected nothing less from Cara.
Dahlia's voice was slightly stronger than it had been in the darkness, but far more tearful. "Do you think one day I’ll escape her?"
"One day." Kahlan sniffled, trying not to reveal the doubt in her eyes even though her Mistress couldn't see them.
"She went to get water for you. And the horses." Kahlan moved up to kiss her, wishing she could somehow understand that Cara hadn't replaced her. "But I could've done it."
Dahlia stopped her indecently, turning her cheek. "You'll get sick."
"I don't care," Kahlan whined, "You can't know how much I missed you."
"I do know," she replied tenderly, bringing the Confessor's head back down into her shoulder. "Have you behaved, Kahlan?"
She shook her head shamefully, remembering all her mistakes. "No, Mistress."
"It shows." She tried to smile, straining her eyes against the newfound brightness of the room. It just felt better to close them altogether.
"Mistress?"
Dahlia coughed. "Yes, Kahlan?"
"I'm sorry I hurt Mistress Cara."
"I know."
"She hates me." It pained her to vocalize such a thing.
"No," Dahlia said, touching her earlobe, pinching it, "she doesn't. You would be a skeleton if she did."
"I felt like one without you." Although Kahlan knew it was wrong to question her Mistress on this, she felt helpless in her certainty about Cara. She gulped, exhaled. "Will I always love you this much?"
There was no hesitation, no question. "Yes."
The idea of it overwhelmed Kahlan, froze her and thawed her in one harrowing instant. If she wasn't so overjoyed to be with her Mistress, the despair would've choked every ounce of precious air from her body and expelled it above them.
"I dreamt about you," Dahlia said, smirking just so.
"You did?" Kahlan squeaked, suddenly embarrassed by herself.
"Mistress Cara. She was lowering us into a fire pit, tied together, back to back. You were so scared and struggling so hard, Kahlan. I told you to stop, how much she likes that."
"What did I do?" Kahlan nuzzled into her, so impossibly comforted.
"You stopped," Dahlia's eyes inexplicably watered as they opened and her voice cracked, "and it saved us."
Kahlan smiled, imagining it, and astonishingly proud of herself. Then her eyes grew sadder. "You struggled last night, Mistress."
"Yes," Dahlia admitted, exhaustion beginning to set in once again. "I'm Mord'Sith. It is always my choice to struggle."
"She is your Mistress." It came out more as a question than Kahlan had intended as she tried to understand this concept, and more than anything, needed Dahlia to explain it, needed her voice to make sense of this new life that they now found themselves in.
"Not anymore."
***
Mistress Nathair, or Snake as she was called by Cara and Dahlia, circled her own bed and watched as Denna slept on her stomach, exactly in the middle of it. Her sleep was more sound than it had been in her youth, and Snake found it more interesting than she did disturbing or telling. Denna's face was perfect as it laid squished on the pillow and it was only when peeking underneath the covers at her unclothed body were the workings of Lord Rahl and his devices apparent from every horrifying dimension that ranged from Denna's collarbone all the way to her toes.
She had not broken, not given a single shred of information to Lord Rahl or any of her Sisters about the location or intentions of the missing Mord'Sith. After many unsuccessful sessions, he had cut Denna down and towered over her unconscious body, fruitfully deciding to send his finest quad to call upon Mistress Nathair. For Snake.
She crawled into bed, taking Denna into her arms like an coddled child, waking her instantly.
Denna had not seen her Mistress, or at least her like this in her leather, in far too long.
"Mistress Denna..." Snake said, shifting all of Denna's freshly washed blonde hair to one side of her shoulder, exposing her neck. It was and always had been her favorite part of Denna. It was so vulnerable, not like the guarded rest of her. It was the only place where her skin had no remarkable defense.
"Yes, Mistress?" Denna shivered, enjoying this contact, and some parts of her reverting aimlessly to her childhood despite her best efforts not to retreat there.
"Do you remember," she mused softly, running her fingers along Denna's unmarred throat, "when you were twelve years old and I caught you with Dahlia? You were placed in that small closet across the hall while I was instructing Cara. There was barely any air, no light, nor promise of anything. When I finally returned to you, you had Dahlia on her knees between your little legs, and she was so beaten that I immediately strung you up and soothed her."
"I remember, Mistress."
"Do you remember what I told you?"
Denna nodded, recalling it fondly. "Sisterhood was sometimes about sacrifice. We should've been fighting about who died first to give the other the remaining time."
"Do you remember what you thought was fair to trade?"
"I didn't want Cara to see her like that." Denna's eyes shined at the memory of young Cara. So courageous.
"That's right, Denna. That's good..."
"If Dahlia would be allowed to heal before Cara saw her again, Dahlia could do the same thing to me that I had done to her."
"You were afraid of Cara?"
"No," Denna said, watching Snake's lips, oddly missing them. "I feared nothing."
"You respected Cara."
"Yes."
"You loved Cara," she pressed.
"Yes."
"You wanted her to be loved by Dahlia."
"She deserved something."
"She deserved Dahlia's love and not yours?" Snake asked quietly, squeezing Denna's body at it's most feeble points, smashing her raw skin into her throbbing bone.
Denna considered it, and no immediate answer came to mind. Snake's lips pouted before they touched deliciously at the base of her neck. Denna loved it, loved that she had something her Mistress could still desire.
"And if I put you and Dahlia back into the closet right now, you would die so that she may live five minutes longer?"
Denna moaned lowly and timidly. "Yes."
"Their freedom is that closet, Denna. Can't you see that?"
Denna put her hands on her Mistress, smiling when she was awarded her tighter embrace in return, knowing the comfort she had to offer. Although Denna was strong, her Mistress was stronger.
"Denna...my child," Snake cooed, keeping their hug just intense enough so Denna couldn't feel the pain of her injuries, "where are Mistress Cara and Mistress Dahlia?"
Denna whimpered for the first time in her adult life.
Snake hushed her, moved so that Denna may fully rest her head on her shoulder and spoke gently into her ear. "Because you are my family, and I cherish you, I have influenced Lord Rahl in your favor. Cara has a young niece. I want her brought into this Temple and trained as Mord'Sith by Cara's hand."
"I don't understand, Mistress."
"Lord Rahl will welcome both of them back into our family on this condition. Isn't that wonderful?"
Denna thought about the offer with a clear mind. "Children mean as much as dogs to Cara."
"I have always been generous with you, Denna. Spoiled you even. I granted your request that day and let her face heal. Cara never found out. And when Dahlia's softness prevented her from carrying out your punishment, I let it go. Now I'm counting on you alone. You must save them. They will die out there."
"Dahlia. She..." Denna swallowed, gritted pain emerged, "trained Cara's Confessor for her own selfish purposes. Love purposes. Naturally I thought Dahlia had better taste, of course. Cara discovered this and she was...was..." She thought of Cara falling to her knees in devastation.
"Heartbroken," Snake firmly guessed.
Denna nodded. "Yes, that. I tied Dahlia down while Cara left to punish the Confessor. I was so...proud of Dahlia. Finally. I made a gift of that worthless brat Aven and helped them leave the Temple."
"Where was she headed?"
Denna closed her eyes, felt the words ache on her tongue. "Balter Mountains."
"Are you certain?"
"I told her to go through them. That I would protect her."
"She was right to trust you."
"They..." Denna hesitated, feeling Snake's hand come between her legs, "were right to escape."
"Escape is only an illusion, Denna. And it always will be. You will be my pet for now. You may never be Mord'Sith again."
Denna took Snake's fingers, ignored how they burned, fractured by this. "I will always be Mord'Sith."
"I will cut your hair in the morning. It would please me to enjoy it tonight."
***
Dahlia's eyes locked on Cara, seeing her differently in the daylight, as she stood in the doorway for a moment and then proceeded to her bedside.
"You look better." Cara produced the key to the chain and unlocked it, and Dahlia immediately crossed her arms protectively and looked down at them. Cara leaned down and brushed her lips against Dahlia's cheek, trying to raise it.
"Don't touch me, Cara." She wiped with her freed palm where she had kissed.
Cara did it again, rougher. Then to the other side of her face, grazing her teeth against Dahlia's skin until she was pushed harshly away by her ear.
Cara pulled back and inhaled through her nostrils, bowing her head briefly, gathering her pointed rage before grabbing Dahlia by both her wrists and dragging her rapidly to the ground as if pushing her from a great height. She hit loud enough for Kahlan to come running.
"Stay back, Kahlan," Dahlia warned, halting her at the doorway.
"You ungrateful bitch!" Cara roared, pulling her up and shaking her vigorously by her captured wrists. "I saved your life!"
"After you destroyed it!" Dahlia shouted back, with equal accusation, looking right into her and all the way past her.
Cara dropped her hold, sinking Dahlia down into the floor and stood straight up, removing her Agiel from it's firm holster. "You want to scream?!"
"Mistress-" Kahlan pleaded, watching the weapon come from Cara's thigh at half the speed it actually did.
"Shut up!" Cara screeched with shattered irreverence. "You’re next!"
"Do it, Cara! Kill us both. Spare us from the eternal torment of any life with you!"
Cara's blood heated at her words and all she could to expel the mounting and gut wrenching rage was to drive her Agiel down hard and fast into Dahlia's chest, allowing it to cry into Dahlia's fragile body, and realizing that halfway through it, as Dahlia shook and squirmed, that part of her wished to just stop. She thought, if Dahlia screamed, she would stop.
But she never screamed.
The only sound that arose, other than the wail of the Agiel, was a piercing cry from Kahlan as she ran forward. By the time she reached Dahlia's side and threw herself down next to her, Cara had ceased her assault and was already choked up, horrified and resigned.
She dropped her Agiel to the floor. She had finally done it. Dahlia was dead again. Her soul was on it's way to the Underworld. She had just acted out her most intense and most persisting nightmare and it was even worse than her mind had ever been able to threaten.
Kahlan looked up at the Mord‘Sith, primed and brimming with more disgust and sadness than she had ever been capable of feeling for anyone, even in the darkest hours of her earliest training and earliest desperations.
Cara immediately collapsed down, taking Dahlia's cooling lips in between her own, summoning the Breath of Life with so much resolve and anger, that, it would not come at all. There was no focus to be had. She had never killed Dahlia before.
Cara looked up numbly, frantically clutching Dahlia's face. "It's not working!" The rage was suffocating her.
"Think of your love for her, Mistress, please!" Kahlan's eyes widened, blackening against the unnatural pull of the Rada'han as it danced violently with the sadistic strength of the Con Dar. The thought of losing Mistress all over again was somewhere her mind shut her away from, refusing her any access to the idea.
"What have I done?" Cara whispered, closing her eyes, concentrating on the magic within her as the years turned back in her mind, churning through the randomness of her memories...
Dahlia thrashing awake from a nightmare and calling only for her.
The first time Dahlia kissed her, she trembled and knew it was possible to tremble that way forever.
Dahlia's infectious giggle during the thunderstorm that marked the first night they slept in their own bed together.
Finding a lonely flower in the middle of the corridor and running it to Dahlia, placing it in her hair and finding it so beautiful that she hurried away and cried.
Dahlia, with her finger, marking the symbol for love into her bare back as she was being dressed by her.
Dahlia pushing her back, throwing herself in the path of a lightning bolt that targeted them.
Dahlia's hysterical attempts to teach her how to slow dance.
The adoring pride in Dahlia's eyes the day they became Mistresses. The feeling of completeness and accomplishment, believing the Breath of Life would now make Dahlia eternal to her. The price and weight had been worth it.
Finally, it stirred inside her, needing to be released into Dahlia for the love that it was, remembering that she was precious, unique, and mortal. She had been the only thing worth protecting and treasuring amid all the darkness, death and misery. Where many girls had relented and perished, they thrived on their belief and ever-present loyalty to one another, and when one was weak, the other had strength to lend, and even in the hardest of times when it seemed like nothing positive could ever come from their lives or their dreams, they had each other. And it was everything.
The magic entered Dahlia and loomed first around her heart, warming it, encouraging it to beat once again. She had so much to live for. Dahlia jolted awake with the distinct and lasting knowledge of this.
As the first breath expelled from her aching lungs, Cara lifted her and hugged her wildly without even letting her properly regain herself. "I'm sorry," she exhaled fully into Dahlia's ear. "Leave us," she ordered Kahlan awkwardly.
Kahlan sniffled back her relief and reluctantly obeyed, trusting Cara's intentions but keeping her eyes on them just the same until she reached the door and hurried outside, thanking the Spirits all over again.
"You're okay," Cara insisted, trying to convince herself just as readily, "you're okay."
"Cara..." Dahlia cried, working through her disbelief, "you truly wish me dead?"
"No!" Cara exclaimed, sounding like little girl caught in a vicious lie. "I just want to take you home."
Although her voice failed to find itself, Dahlia's eyes said there was no going back.
"Dahlia, we can't stay here." She wasn't only speaking about the cabin.
"Just leave me here. Take Kahlan with you." She was out of breath, winded by the empowering experience of revival.
"I would die first," Cara promised, "it's not happening. Where you go, I go."
"Why?" Dahlia asked, pausing in her regrouping. "Everything's changed."
"Not everything."
The sadness crippled Dahlia's face, and her eyes held the majority of it. "Enough of it has."
"All I've ever done, Dahlia," she replied, dabbing at a tear that dotted her eyelash, "was so you could live. So that we could be happy."
The word "happy" made Dahlia sniffle, and made her look one shade brighter. She felt a certain level of shame and longing pinch at her cheeks, traveling through her jaw and into her reddening lips. She wished Cara could feel it, even for a moment. "We had everything once."
"We still do. We're going to get through this... look at all I've pulled us through. I can do this."
Softly, she reminded her. "You can’t do everything."
"I used to think that pain was mostly weakness leaving the body," Cara said, looking away, focused on a crack in the floor. "But there is nothing," she continued, swiping once more at her eyelid, "like the pain of your hatred."
Dahlia found one more tear that could be brushed from Cara‘s cheek. "Never think that. Do you hear me, Cara?"
"I never wanted to live to see these days. I can’t believe I have."
"As I wanted you more, you needed me less."
"But I own so much of you-" Cara began, unsure of how to piece any of it together.
"You’ve given me a heart of my own," Dahlia finished for her, "which has always loved you."
Cara’s eyes lifted back up, and she was able to find some small way to smile.
Dahlia looked at her, blinked carelessly a few times before she really saw anything concrete within Cara. There was truth there, and contended turmoil. There was a sense of not knowing how far she had drifted, or how long. There was so much missing and deceived, conquered and abundant. Either way, her eyes were clearer. They were no longer tinted as deep with the olive darkness and insanity of the night or even years before.
Dahlia wanted to believe her, wanted to smooth the past down as if it were leather against her body and wear it forever.
"Kahlan!" Cara called, sluggishly kissing Dahlia's forehead. For Dahlia and Kahlan both, it was the first time they ever heard Cara's voice speak her name without hate and malice congealed on each syllable.
"Yes, Mistress?" Kahlan materialized at the door almost instantly, a cold sweat lining her brow.
"Come to your Mistress Dahlia. She wants to be held by you."
Kahlan lit up as she dashed forward, first helping to move Dahlia back up to the relative warmth of bed before Cara let go and allowed Kahlan to take her into her arms. Cara covered them up and turned to go. Dahlia could never know how hard it was.
But she did know. "Cara-" Dahlia called, reaching out and pulling at Cara's wrist, the one that had been scratched by the cuff, preventing her exit.
She turned the upper half of her body, looking at the wall above their heads and not at them directly. She had her limits.
"Stay," Dahlia asked.
It wasn't so much an order as it was a gentle request. Cara narrowed her eyes, almost feeling the depth of color adjust within them. She nodded once and stood there on strong feet, allowing Dahlia to move her touch up gradually into her hand, joining their fingers, bare hand into glove, drawing her forward a few simple steps until she could not move any closer to the bed.
There was no way of knowing if Cara had meant only to leave the room or to leave them altogether.
Kahlan watched Cara closely, trying to figure her out for what she was, trying to both welcome her and forgive her for the danger she consistently and heinously posed to Dahlia and undoubtedly always would. As much as she craved this time with Mistress Dahlia, she inexplicably wanted Mistress Cara to be there as well. They were each half of something that balanced her, constructed her and bound her.
Kahlan squirmed over, keeping Dahlia firmly in tow, and made room for Cara.
"Cara, please," Dahlia said, "I’m cold." She knew Cara would never let her stay that way for very long.
***
Snake’s mirror was big. It was meant for someone who enjoyed their appearance.
Denna sat crossed legged in front of it and looked at her new hair, picked at the shoulders of her beige dress and touched the gash on her lip. It stung, and it pleaded not to be bothered again as it healed. She touched it again and smiled. It hurt to smile too.
"Denna," Snake said, and Denna’s eyes followed Snake’s legs as they approached in the mirror from behind.
They were bruised and scraped and littered with scars and torn muscles. She pulled Denna back by the jagged tips of her hair and kneeled down next to her.
"You say ‘yes, Mistress?’ when I call you," she reminded her, twisting her grip.
Though Denna couldn’t move her neck, her eyes moved back to the reflection in the mirror. She looked again at her shoulder length hair and licked her lips. "Are you sure I can’t persuade you to go shorter?"
Snake’s Agiel was deep in her throat before she was even finished posing the question in full.
"Your mouth," Snake said, gagging her on the length of it as it moved, "is not as precious as it used to be."
She removed the Agiel and brought it along Denna’s cheek, grinding it at her forehead.
Denna giggled sourly as she lost her bearings and slumped onto her stomach, disappointed when the weapon didn’t follow her lead. She heard it being re-holstered and grimaced as Snake rose and flipped her over, simply shoving her boot under Denna‘s belly and kicking it over like a stone in her path.
As Denna’s increasing laughter robbed her of air, she swore in between her gasps, "you will never find them."
Snake smiled. "How would you like to bear a child for me, Denna?"
Denna choked on the last of her humor and stared straight up at her, feeling something heavy swirl within her chest, and it stole all sense of amusement and orientation.
"A little girl," Snake nodded, crossing her arms, "I would prefer."
"Mistress," Denna quickly corrected herself, coming to her knees, bowing her head. "Forgive me."
"A little girl with your brilliant blonde hair, those hungry eyes, that smile. I could have you all over again, couldn’t I?"
Denna crawled the couple inches and grabbed at Snake’s thigh, rested her head into it. "You have me."
"Good girl, Denna," Snake said, patting her head once. Denna exhaled, though far from relieved.
Snake moved thoughtfully, guiding Denna up by her chin until they were standing face to face, and her pet finally looked into her eyes. Denna saw what she often knew her pets found visible within her. The ownership, the lust, the knowledge that a Mistress never threatened anything that she wasn‘t immediately prepared to see through until the end. The unsteadiness swayed Denna ridiculously into her Mistress’ direction.
Snake circled her index finger around deep into Denna’s stomach, almost severing the fabric with the sharpness of her fingernails. "If I desire it," she said, "I would rip a child from your womb and never let it leave my side."
"I would kill it first," Denna replied, not even remotely convinced at the cheapness of the lie itself or her delivery of it.
Snake smacked her rigidly across her face. It was how Cara slapped. "You would do no such thing," she reprimanded coldly. "She would be a part of you. The most innocent part of you. The best part of you. And she would be mine."
Denna clasped Snake's hand, the one that began to touch at her hip, and brought it to her mouth, sucking two fingers down from it, kissing them breathlessly as Snake removed them, fighting to keep them.
"That’s better," Snake whispered in approval, pulling Denna into her. "I love you most when you’re like this. Now open your mouth and give it to me. And don’t you say a word."
Denna kept it closed, swallowing all of her saliva and licked the back row of her teeth, half stalling and half in rebellion.
Snake bit and nibbled on Denna’s sore lower lip before she took control of her tongue, thrashing inside, and quieting her and bending her where so many others, including their Lord, had failed.
As Snake lowered her to the ground, Denna thought about Cara. Wondered about her. Imagined her. Her movements could be so similar to their Mistress sometimes. The casual disregard for her comfort had been passed down almost as an art form as now Denna’s legs were caught shamelessly behind her back as Snake folded her in half.
Snake’s hands never lost their way up a pet’s dress. It was nowhere near as complicated as the respectable leather of a Mord’Sith and there were no buckles to unlatch, no strings to untie, nothing to wait for, and nothing dangerous about it.
"Do you like being on your back for me, Denna?"
"Yes, Mistress," she replied flatly, "I love this."
"Liar," Snake said, punching her face playfully, retracting her other hand at the same time.
Snake gracefully slid off of her, to her feet, and disappeared across the room out of Denna's sight. She didn't dare move, and let the pain of the blood pooling in her limbs soothe and distract her. She instinctively brought her arms around her stomach and touched it lightly with the tip of her thumb. When she heard Snake returning, she quickly returned her hands to her side and blinked.
Snake was wearing a phallus, over her leather, and returned to top Denna. She simply inched up Denna's dress and shoved it inside her, ripping into her, grinning as Denna tensed and momentarily resisted.
"You should always be wet for me," Snake suggested, pulling out, then crashing in. "This is a glimpse of what it will feel like," she swore, pushing her down by her pelvic bone, riding her harder than any man other than Lord Rahl had ever dared to do, "when I have a line of a sweaty slaves fucking you every day and every night until you conceive."
Denna stared into her, pleading with both eyes of her own as the thrusts came quicker and she was truly overpowered.
"You will obey me, you whore," Snake grunted, "Cara was mine," she pushed deeper, "and Dahlia was mine. They only believe they love each other because I made it so."
"No..." Denna heard herself whine.
"Yes," Snake pumped her, grabbing at her throat, "for their own survival. They were each so weak in their own way."
"Cara," Denna dared, "was never weak a day in her life."
Snake kissed her forehead and rolled over, placing Denna on top. Everything about it looked like Cara and Dahlia.
"Who knows what you would've been had I willed things differently," Snake wondered, taking Denna's waist, slamming into her.
The thought crumbled Denna's heart and she placed her hands submissively on Snake's chest to balance herself and hung her head. It was something Snake could not recall ever seeing from her. Denna rode her softly, hoping to lose herself in the pleasure, the pain, the servitude.
"Come for me, Denna," Snake demanded, "you'll feel better."
Denna knew she was right about that, and she sped up, allowing her body to respond, to forget. She thought of Cara, missing her more than she could ever admit, and hopelessly longing for a life she had not lived, a love she had not known. This was all she had. It had to be enough.
"Mistress," Denna whispered, "harder."
Snake complied and Denna leaned down viciously, took in her mouth with one swoop, and kissed it like she never meant to be anywhere else. She didn't want any more words to come from it.
As Denna finally began to come, she cried out into Snake's ear, shivering at the bitter shame of the rush and neediness as it started to claim her.
Snake jumped on this, using the reserves of her strength to impale herself into Denna, knowing how vital it was to addict Denna to these moments, to reward her for the obedience, and to remind her that no matter what kind of Mord'Sith she may have been, she was now her pet and wouldn't always be fucked so graciously.
Denna came so hard that as she fell forward, spent, she crushed Snake's face and could've easily broken her nose had Snake not predicted the move and turned her head accordingly.
Tears lined Denna's eyes and they were eager to escape her but she forced them all back. Snake rocked herself until she was sitting up, taking Denna with her and hugged her. She ran her fingers through Denna's hair, not missing it's length and fullness.
Snake raised her eyebrow. "Never forget that I would name that child Cara."
***
Cara, Dahlia and Kahlan laid in bed, in silence, until Dahlia fell asleep. Her breathing was getting better. With every moment that edged on and passed, her resilience was mending itself.
They looked at each other quietly, and Kahlan smiled. She reached over Dahlia's body and touched Cara's face, smiling even more when she didn't recoil from it.
Cara motioned for her to get up. As carefully as they could, they each lifted themselves away from Dahlia, and as Cara rounded the bed, Kahlan waited for her and took her hand. Neither of them looked back at Dahlia. They knew she could handle herself in this.
Silently, Cara led the way and they headed outside, into the strange combination of sun and instant coldness and down along a path, until Cara stopped them. She stood proudly, presenting her discovery with only a twinkle in her eye. A hot spring. Kahlan was so excited that she squeezed the Mord'Sith into a giddy hug and began undressing her without asking or receiving the proper permission.
Instead of jumping instantly into the comfort of the hot water, Cara waited until Kahlan had removed her Confessor's dress before she considered moving forward. Cara tested the temperature first with her foot, then eased herself down into it and reached up slowly for Kahlan's hand.
The gesture was so thoughtful that Kahlan had to rub her eyes before she reached back out and accepted it.
As soon as her body was fully submerged, Cara embraced her, as if in a panic, pressing against every inch of her and settling herself in Kahlan's fumbling arms. Kahlan carried them into the middle of the spring and looked around at their surroundings. The beauty of nature was all around them, coating these breathtaking mountains and grandly sparkled within every cloud, every drop of this water, and in each and every breath they drew and took.
But they could see none of this. They each only saw the frailty of the other.
"If you hurt her," Cara vowed, "I will bring you back here, drown you right in this spot and swear to her that you ran off in the night."
"I know, Mistress," she replied shyly, kissing at Cara's plumped top lip. Her voice grew more confident, "I know."
***