(no subject)
Title: Privacy, A Series of Scenes
Author: AngelicSinner / VixenRaign
Pairing: Kahlan/Cara (pre-slash for now), Richard/Kahlan
Rating: G - R (G for now, maybe R later)
Warnings: Contains Femslash, and my rampant reinterpretation of how things may have gone after the end of Season 2.
Disclaimer: I do not own “Legend of the Seeker”, not do I even own copies of the “Sword of Truth” book series. They belong to Terry Goodkind, ABC and Disney TV. I make no profit, nor would I like to. This is all in good fun.
Author’s Note: I’ve always been fascinated by people, the way they are when they are alone with just one other person; who they allow themselves to be in the company of a trusted friend. The secret parts of themselves they reveal to just one, the way that brings them closer and allows them to understand each other in ways others could not…
Summery: Post “Tears”/Season 2. Life is complicated. So are people. And to quote a great comic book, “The thing about changing the world?
Once you do it, the world’s all different."
(Takes place after "Trust & Mercy")
Life and Breath
Scene Summery: Kahlan’s return to the living, and returned to the normalcy she’d thought she had escaped.
Kahlan came back to life so suddenly she doubted whether or not she’d actually been dead at all. She had only heard the distant echoes of the screams of the damned before her eyes snapped open. Cara’s wide, focused eyes hadn’t moved from hers. She wondered if the blonde had even allowed herself time to blink before giving her the breath of life. As Kahlan took in a shuddering breath, feeling the warmth of life refill her body as her lugs filled with air, she realized Cara had moved. One hand still lay on her cheek, the other gently cradled her head off of the cold stone floor.
“Be still,” Cara ordered her gently, “your body has just had to heal itself quite seriously. You will be tired, and your mind unfocused and jittery. You must rest, even if you cannot sleep.”
The hand on her cheek slid away slowly, an almost reassuring caress, as the hand on Kahlan’s head slid down her neck to her back, gently pulling the Mother Confessor to a sitting position. The feeling of tingles one gets when a limb is regaining circulation after being put to sleep covered her whole body as the brunette was righted, and made her doubt the solidity of her grasp as Cara helped pull her to her feet. When she stood, her eyes found Richard, unconscious on the floor. The Mord’Sith must have noticed.
“There is a nerve in the jaw, quite close to the ear,” The blonde explained, “when struck properly the victim is left almost lifeless for nearly two hours, and cannot be awoken. I have seen it used occasionally for an emergency anesthetic on the battlefield, but…” Cara trailed off with a slight shrug, “Knowing Richard, he’ll be awake in less than that and angry that I struck him.” Kahlan let out a single laugh, unable to help it. She was exhausted, and Cara was probably right. The blonde turned to offer her the barest smile, visible only it the slightest softening of the muscles at the corners of her eyes. She took one of Kahlan’s hands and drew her arm over her shoulder for balance.
“What about Richard?” Kahlan asked as they made their way back into Kahlan’s bedchamber.
“I will see to him, you must rest.” Cara lifted Kahlan’s feet up onto her mattress once the brunette was seated, and the Mother Confessor flopped back onto her quilts and pillows. As the air puffed out of her lungs as she landed, her mind couldn’t help but think, this isn’t how I thought this night would end. The Mord’Sith tugged off the Confessor’s boots, replacing the missing dagger in one, before looking at Kahlan, waiting for her eyes to find hers.
“Your dress will need to be mended. And cleaned.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, calm. She spoke as though the reason these attentions were needed were do to a slip and fall that left dirt and a hole at the knee. Kahlan’s eye closed slowly. “Come on. Don’t sleep in it.” She urged. Kahlan just sighed. “Kahlan.” She stressed, voice stern. The Mother Confessor just shook her head, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes and rolling down into her mussed hair.
“Do you know why I killed you and not Richard?” Cara asked, her tone almost curious. Kahlan’s eyes finally opened. “Do you?”
“He is your Lord Rahl?” Kahlan guessed, though considering Cara even asked, her voice revealed her doubt. Cara tilted her head, grimacing slightly.
“He is at that, but that was not all of my reasons.” Cara reached for the buckle at the center of Kahlan’s traveling dress and began unfastening it efficiently. “You are a woman who regrets many things she should not. You acted in good faith; you meant no harm to him. Even strangers you Confess only in battle, or as a last resort.” Cara then began pulling the laces across the bust of her dress, but did not remove it herself, instead going to then loosen the intricate lancing at the Confessor’s sleeves. “Though I doubt there is anyone you have confessed who did not benefit morally from your touch,” Cara tugged at a stuck knot for a moment, “still you cannot accept your acts even in necessity. I could only assume that doing it to Richard, whom you love, would be worse to you than all the others before compounded.” The blonde sighed, her eyes falling to blue ones exasperatedly. “You tied this knot, you undo it. I’ll get the other.”
With Cara already working at her other arm, Kahlan brought her wrist to her mouth, her teeth releasing the lace. Soon her arms could be freed and Kahlan leaned forward to begin pulling the top potion of her dress from her body. Cara took it, laying it over the back of the nearest chair for the brunette’s maidservants to find. When Kahlan was in only her shift she dropped back on the bed, disbelieving that she could be made so much more tired by simply disrobing.
But Cara had been right, her mind buzzed, flighty and chaotic. Kahlan grabbed at the quilt half under her still and tugged until a loose corner could be wrapped around her. She turned on her side, knowing sleep would not come easy if it came at all. She wondered if the Mord’Sith might be willing to use the nerve strike, to give her respite.
“You think you deserve to be punished,” Cara finished quietly as she sat next to Kahlan and pulled the blanket over her properly. “For what you have done, what you are and how you were born. I thought, in the twisted way your mind works, perhaps if I made you suffer a little in dying you would feel less debited to Richard in the morning. Confessing him and then killing him? How would a woman of your conscience even look that man in the eye again?” She mocked jokingly. Kahlan turned her face into her pillow, not sure how she could be amused over such a horrible thing, such a terrible night and mistake. She wanted to blame her having just died. Perhaps that was fair?
The hand returned to her cheek, its caress now meant to be reassuring. “Rest.”
Cara’s whispered steps faded into the next room, undetectable once the door closed behind her, and then the Mother Confessor was alone once again.
((Short, I know; only about 1,100 words. The next chapter is finished however and should be up in a couple of days! Takes up shortly after this leaves off)
~AngelicSinner / VixenRaign