Fic: "For Want of a Nail" 3/? (Cara/Kahlan, Legend of the Seeker)
Title: For Want of a Nail
Author: orange_creative
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing(s): Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R
Summary: The Spell of Undoing changed much more than ever expected.
Spoilers: Through the S2 finale, but this is a completely AU verse. Very AU, but so very familiar.
word count: 5,300
A/N: I should mention that Kahlan will not make an appearance for a while and for the first few installments, it will focus on Cara and Dahlia. And I'll be tearing up book and TV canon for my writing pleasure. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Copyrights associated with Legend of the Seeker and the Sword of Truth do not belong to me.
Part 1 | Part 2
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Cara followed the driver to a modest cabin, though it was too dark to make out many details from the distance of the tree line. Cara couldn't decide whether it match her memory or not, but light lit from inside the windows. The driver's shadow-defintiely a woman, by the looks of the riding skirt-came back outside and ruffled around in the back of the wagon. Two small children appeared, shucking off a blanket that covered them during the ride. They all went inside.
Cara knew that she had just found one of the links in Nathair's problem of rebels, or perhaps just this one rebel, smuggling children away before Nathair could get to them. She smirked mirthlessly, feeling the humor at stumbling upon the very reason that she was sent to Stowecroft.
Cara's instincts were telling her that the rebel was the now-grown Dahlia of Cara's faded memory. She could be completely wrong, her logic nagged. She shouldn't care about finding out whether she was right or not, but she didn't see herself returing to D'hara-if she even made it out alive. It might be her only chance and it fueled a need to know.
-------
"We're turning back." Triana announced.
Rikka's brow furrowed, "We have orders to wait here."
"She should have been here by now." Triana reasoned, turning to her horse and pulling herself up into the saddle, "Our assistance might be needed."
Laughter was the response, "I doubt that Cara, out of everyone, would require help," a trace of a smirk graced Rikka's lips. "Besides, orders are orders."
"And I'm not inclined to break Mistress Cara's." Hally piped up as a humorous warning. She wasn't sure what was going through Triana's head, but she didn't want to get dragged into her personal battle against Cara.
Triana felt anger boil beneath the surface of her leather, a sharpness in her breathing the only outward sign.
When the Cara first showed up at the People's Palace, she was all confidence and cheeky retorts with a list of accomplishments trailing behind her like minions. Triana wanted nothing more than to put Cara in her place, envious of how easily she moved through the ranks. She wanted to break Cara, humiliate her, and hear the word "mistress" slide from Cara's tongue in submission.
However, Cara continued to outshine those around her, somehow weilding an arrogance not normally possessed by most Mord-Sith. Cara's captives were quickly broken, and eager to please. She dominated the battlefield, the face of war creating harsh lines that made her a fearsome opponent.
Triana saw the opportunity for seduction when she caught Cara's lingering gaze on other sisters, appreciation certainly not unheard of, but she could take advantage of it. She managed her way into Cara's bed, tried to dominate her there. Yet, Denna's talents kept Cara tight-lipped and dismissive of everyone else. Cara stopped calling on Triana, seemingly forgetting about her. Between the two blondes, Triana found herself unable to find her way out from either of their shadows and it infuriated her.
Things would change. She knew Cara's weakness.
"Yes, she would never ask for assistance." Triana stated with a passing air that hardened, testing purposefully, "But we must consider the life of the Lord Rahl's unborn child as well."
Hally and Rikka glanced at each other, silently realizing that neither had been aware and feeling the subtle reminder that their duty and loyalty was ultimately owned by Darken and not another sister of the agiel. They both looked back at Triana, ready to let her take the lead even though they felt uneasiness about the circumstance.
Triumph simmered in Triana's veins, feeling the scales of power starting to tip in her favor.
-------
Buzzing tension coursed through Dahlia's body. She knew it wouldn't go away until the two girls resting in her bedroom were safe, a place much further away than her own home. The quiet reigned, the girls comforted by each other and Dahlia's reassurance that her return to the bedroom would be accompanied by hot cocoa. In truth, she needed a moment to gather herself so that she could give the girls a strong, positive front. Mord-Sith were prowling the forests around Stowecroft, stealthy and observing, their presence like a omniscient eye she constantly needed to avoid. It felt like a shadow of a predator she could see from the corner of her eye, finally catching up after years of running.
She walked to the firewood by the front door, thinking of how much time her and the girls had to rest before leaving. She still needed to pack a few supplies, food for the journey, and letters she had not yet written.
Reaching down, Dahlia lost the sense that she was alone, her distracting concerns suddenly forgotten. The floor creaked too closely and she had no time to react and process the Mord-Sith filling and bursting through her doorway. A red-leathered hand shot out toward Dahlia's face and she instinctually brought her arm up to ward herself. Instead, her wrist found itself caught in an unyielding grip. She lashed out with her other arm, to hit or scratch-anything-but she swiped at nothing but air. Her world spun as she was jerked forward, twisted, her back slamming against the wall with enough force to knock her breath from her lungs.
Dazed, she felt leather cover her mouth, making the task of breathing even harder. Her vision tilted, unfocused, while she was forced to suck in small desperate streams of air through her nose. She was pinned near immobile by a solid feminine body, one arm pressed tight at her hip by the grip on her wrist, the other free. Her limb didn't seem to understand her attempts to use it and instinct twitched her body in weak resistance.
It was only a matter of a few seconds, but time felt still as her senses came back to her. The Mord-Sith restraining her was all beautiful curves and deadly aura, reminding Dahlia of the steep, narrow path that lead up the face of the Azrith Cliffs. It held the view of an immense, vast landscape, but taking attention away from the path and a misstep could lead to serious injury, if not death. The blonde before her exuded the same need for attention.
There was a small dagger in Dahlia's boot, but she felt too restrained to attempt retrieving it. Trying to overcome a trained Mord-Sith by force required more strength and dexterity than Dahlia possessed.
She would wait for an opening, it was her only choice.
Cara, on the other hand, expected to recognize a young Dahlia in the features of the woman before her, but she still felt taken aback by the strange familiarity the woman possessed. The shape of grey eyes, with their fiery determination to resist and fight, gave Cara glimpses of the Dahlia she never knew. In her earlier years, when the red leather still felt new, her mind wandered every so often, sometimes fantasizing about her childhood playmate, wondering at a life she might have experienced.
When Cara didn't do anything, Dahlia shifted, pushing with her shoulders and her free hand. Cara responded by pressing closer, pressure as warning.
"Stop and listen carefully," Cara explained slowly and clearly when she caught Dahlia's gaze, "You can fight me and watch as my sisters storm in here and take the children," she just needed to get win a moment to explain, "Or you can stop struggling and the girls won't be hurt."
Furious rebellion lit Dahlia's eyes, even as her body stilled. Cara pulled away the hand covering Dahlia's mouth, taking the lack of movement as acquesience.
"Good, now-"
Dahlia jerked harshly, forcing Cara to shove her roughly back against the door, "I won't believe your lies, Mord-Sith." Her free arm came up to strike, but only managed a deflected blow against Cara's shoulder.
Cara's fingers twitched, her whole body tensing with the instinctual need to physically strike Dahlia in response. Dahlia must have felt the intent, her shoulders hitching up as if she could protect herself against the abuse she believed was inevitable. Cara's limbs trembled, but she controlled herself.
What was she trying to accomplish by coming here? Following Dahlia felt important at the time she made the decision, driven by impulsive curiosity. She should cut her losses and leave.
Pinned, Dahlia kept her guard up, ready for the incoming blow to give her a reason to fall to the floor and pull her knife, but Cara stepped away from her instead.
"I shouldn't have come here." Cara spoke, mostly to herself, disappointed for pursuing a foolish lark. What was she expecting? She didn't want to be there anymore-shouldn't, there wasn't even time-and moved to exit through the front door still ajar from her rush inside.
Dahlia didn't necessarily understand why Cara gave her an opening, but saw it for opportunity. The agiel had yet to be drawn and with the distance between them she may have enough time to grab her knife and defend herself. Cara saw the intent in her body lines, intuition telling her that Dahlia was either going to strike out or run. She didn't want to hassle with either scenario.
Speaking gravely, Cara paused at the door, "My sisters will be here soon and I can't be here when that happens. I suggest you leave very quickly. For your sake. And the girls." She snapped her attention outside, intent on not lingering.
With Mord-Sith gone and the children unharmed, Dahlia experienced a bewilderment that she never associated with the infamous red leather. She saw the violence in the other woman's eyes, wanting to be released. She thought, for a brief moment, that the Mord-Sith would strike her down, but the thrumming energy suddenly disappeared, sucked inward behind inner walls that Dahlia both understood and did not.
She could think of no reason for a Mord-Sith to barrel into her home-obviously aware of the children-just to leave. Was it subterfuge? Something to catch her off guard? But she couldn't think of a possible reason for a Mord-Sith to try and trick her. What would be the point? There was a certain practicality to the Mord-Sith. All that was needed was to kill Dahlia and take the girls like intended-problem solved. If they were determined enough to see if there were others involved, torture would be the method. In some ways, Mord-Sith were predictable.
Dahlia's thoughts inevitably wandered to the idea that this Mord-Sith might be-dare she think it-Cara Mason, finally returning like Dahlia imagined so many times. Time had dulled her hope, but a small slice was always carefully guarded. Could it be possible?
Though common sense told Dahlia not to extend her trust, she couldn't help but try.
Cara's stride, long and purposeful, quickly took her by Dahlia's horse and the horseshed. She briefly considered taking the animal, if only to prove that her trip here hadn't been an entire waste. She was traveling light, both for appearance and efficiency, but she would be able to travel easier with a second horse. Images of Dahlia and the two girls making a run by foot leaped to her conscious, unexpectedly making her uneasy. Cara didn't bother with the reasons and told herself that she already had everything she needed, leaving the horse behind.
She reached the treeline when footsteps sounded behind her.
"Wait!" Dahlia yelled while running down the worn path to the treeline, catching up to the blonde woman who was nearly sprinting away.
Cara turned and met her impassively.
"You came here for a reason," Dahlia asked out of breath, "It wasn't the girls, or you would have taken them."
Though the threat of danger still hovered closely, it no longer clouded Dahlia's thoughts. She took in full lips and the subtle melding of sharp lines and smooth covers. The darkness muted golden wheat hair and green eyes, but she remembered somewhat from the firelight in her home. Dahlia felt recognition, but she almost didn't remember what the girl of her childhood looked like anymore. Even so, she felt rising confidence in her Mord-Sith's identity.
"You're..." Dahlia swallowed, her throat dry, "Is that you, Cara?"
Something in Cara swelled, "Yes, Dahlia."
A soulful breath escaped Dahlia, carrying the hundreds of questions and answers with it. There were no words, but a faint smile emerged. She stepped forward, a hand reaching out to touch, as if to make sure Cara wasn't just the good spirit of a long lost friend.
Highlights on Cara's red leather shifted like spiders, showing the sudden tension in the blonde's body. Dahlia stopped with blackened green eyes boring into her. She felt the aura exuding from Cara wasn't intimidating, but uncomfortable. A reminder that was untimely for a reuniting of old friends.
Dahlia remembered the day Cara was taken, much of it unfocused though the emotions were still vivid. After Cara's mother found her, Dahlia found herself brought back to her home, parents clutching at her with relief and love. They collaborated and did everything in their power to make sure she would be safe. With one child already lost, they refused to lose another.
So much happened since, creating lives that were interlaced despite being so far apart. Whatever reason Cara returned, they both had obligations that rose above standing outside in.
She stepped back, giving Cara her personal space.
"Come back inside?" Dahlia offered.
Cara nodded after a heartbeat. She followed Dahlia, studying the loose braid that was shorter and messier than her own. She wondered that anyone could turn their back on her so easily. Cara couldn't think past that to perceive a certain happy relief radiating from Dahlia. She trailed alongside, barely a step behind, because her heart still remembered love even though her mind forgot.
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The hooves of horses pounded a steady rhythm on the forest floor. Triana, Hally, and Rikka finally reached the area where they part from Cara. There was company.
On foot, a Mord-Sith watched them come to a stop, Triana taking the lead position.
"We're here on order to assist Mistress Nathair," announced Triana.
"I am Nathair," the other woman stated, eyes narrowing as she took in the number of Mord-Sith before her, "Three? A quad was supposed to arrive tomorrow morning. Where is Sister Cara?"
Triana pursed her lips, "We were here hours ago. Cara is our strike leader, but she parted to meet you."
Nathair looked irritated, something was out of place, "She told me-"
"She's deserting," Triana said without reserve, feeling the gleam in her eyes at knowledge that this would destroy Cara's hold over everyone, "She told you tomorrow, but she's nowhere to be found. She is carrying the Lord Rahl's child and this deception of hers is no coincidence."
Rikka and Hally kept silent, the play of power beyond their influence.
"You mean to mark her a traitor?" Nathair declared gravely, "If you're wrong-"
"Then I will bear the consequences. That will pale in comparison to Darken Rahl's punishment," Triana stared down menacingly at Nathair, "If I'm right."
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Inside, Dahlia moved toward the bedroom, turning to Cara when she reached the door, "I have a lot to ask you, but I need to check on the girls. I didn't exactly leave them feeling safe."
"I don't have much time." Cara replied, surprised when she sounded more contrite than terse like she intended.
Dahlia dipped her head with acknowledgement, "I'll be quick."
She didn't shut the bedroom door behind her and Cara could hear the murmur of voices, a tangle of panic and reassurance. She listened for their conversation while her eyes took in the spread of food-much of it dried fare-laid out on the table. A few oilcloths were spread in the remaining area, ready to wrap and protect the food. A saddle bag was slung over the back of one of the chairs.
It seemed that she wasn't the only one who planned a journey.
Footsteps, too light to be Dahlia's, padded from the bedroom. Cara turned leisurely to see a small girl with rich, wavy brown hair and D'haran blue eyes.
"Miss Dahlia says you're a real Mord-Sith," the little brunette said bluntly while she hugged the doorframe, not necessarily afraid, but cautious, "But that you're a good one."
Cara's eyes flickered up to Dahlia standing just inside the bedroom. Her grey eyes begged indulgence when Cara's thinned in distaste.
"I'm very mean," corrected Cara, thinking it perfectly reasonable that children should fear the sight of her, "And that makes me a very good Mord-Sith."
The little girl's eyebrows scrunched together, trying to decipher whether Cara's words meant she needed to be scared or not.
Dahlia gestured aimlessly, slightly at a loss for the right words, "I just don't want them to be afraid right now."
"They're smart to fear me." Cara replied matter-of-factly, "I'm dangerous."
Dahlia's eyes swept up and down Cara's red leather, "I'm hoping we don't have to worry about that."
Trust was there, fragile, but tangible.
Cara met her gaze solidly, "You don't."
Cara took in the second child clutching Dahlia's riding skirts from behind, a little taller than the first. Her thick dark hair was tied into a ponytail and her shy chocolate gaze shied away from Cara's when they met.
"This is... Miss Cara, girls," Dahlia kneeled down and put a hand on a shoulder each, reassuring, then looked up at Cara with a smile, "This is Berdine and Raina."
Berdine kept a skeptical eye on Cara as Raina murmured a quick, skirt-muffled greeting, "Hi, Miss Cara."
Berdine's brow line suddenly relaxed with discovery and she piped up, "Are you running away from the Mord-Sith too?"
Surprised that the small girl managed to guess her course of action, Cara replied unthinkingly, "I am."
Dahlia's eyes bore into Cara wondering if she heard correctly, if the blonde was merely humoring Berdine.
The blue-eyed girl hummed in pleasure at her good guess, "That makes sense."
"We're running too," came Raina's subdued voice.
Berdine barreled forward with words, one step in Cara's direction, "Are you coming with us?"
Cara's mouth opened, wanting to reply, but nothing came out. It took her a moment to spit out a simple, "No, I'm not." How was it so easy for a child to lose their fear of her?
Deja vu creeped through Cara, feeling a familiarity in Berdine's trusting eyes and Raina's innocent curiosity. It had been a very long since she witnessed a child untouched by corruption and longer still since she felt what she saw in their faces. She wasn't sure what she wanted more, for the children to be shoved back into the room, all their terrible reminders locked away with them, or kept right where they were so she could just watch them.
Would her child be so raw and guileless?
Dahlia must have seen the inner turmoil or had a sense of it because she started ushering the children back into the room, "Come now, girls, back to bed. We've a long ride tomorrow."
There was no protest, but Berdine kept her eyes on Cara as she was gently pulled into the room. Those blue eyes were observant, fascinated with Cara-a monster who was not a monster. Cara returned her stare, if only because it somehow felt like a contest. If it was, oddly enough, Cara couldn't say she won.
Dahlia was back in moments after firm, yet gentle words of rest. With the door closed and the girls tucked away for the moment, Cara and Dahlia were left alone in the front room. Neither was sure how to breach the silence. What to say after so many years?
Where to start?
"I'm glad you're here." Dahlia expressed, all sincere honesty, "I never forgot you."
Cara didn't know how to verbalize her response, how she felt the same. Instead, she ducked her head in a small nod of acknowledgement. Dahlia smiled, for the both of them, seeming to understand, but nevertheless, Cara felt uneasy.
"I was going to make cocoa," Dahlia changed the subject, hoping they could talk while she prepared the drinks, "Would you like some?"
"No," Cara replied curtly-cocoa was a flimsy luxury to a Mord-Sith, and wryly added, "Thanks."
Dahlia couldn't help but think of when they were children, rushing through dinner on nights that they knew they would get a steaming mug of cocoa for dessert. She remembered how Cara used to wrap her hands around her cup, loving the way the liquid slid down her throat and warmed her up from the inside. Dahlia still enjoyed the sweet drink and it saddened her to think that Cara didn't care for it anymore.
She concentrated on Berdine and Raina instead, "It should help them sleep," she pulled a small canister from the cabinet, "They'll need the rest. We'll be leaving in a few hours."
Cara's heart and head were a mess, but focus came rushing back to the forefront. She quickly latched on to its stability and familiarity.
"You can't wait that long," urgency threaded Cara's words. "My sisters will be here much sooner than that."
A chill ran down Dahlia's spine and she turned to look at Cara, "The Mord-Sith?"
Cara nodded, "Yes, there isn't much time."
"They know I have the girls?" Dahlia shook her head, eyes breaking from Cara's to dart around the cabin as if she could find the answer of her misstep within it.
"No," guilt touched Cara for the first time in many years, "I brought them to your doorstep."
"Because you're running."
"Yes," Cara thought of the bigger reason, held inside her, "I need to leave too," she looked at the travel food laid out, thought of how many things Dahlia had to accomplish first to depart, and made a split second decision to do what she could, "I'll get your horse."
Dahlia reached out and grabbed Cara's wrist before the Mord-Sith rushed off, "They're that close?"
Cara refrained from her automatic reaction to jerk her hand free, but she still stepped away to break the contact, "I sent them toward the cliffs, but I won't take chances."
She wished she hadn't brought Triana, but it seemed like a small thing at the time to keep the other woman quiet about the pregnancy. There was a possibility that Triana might convince the other two to turn against her, which is why Cara chose Rikka and Hally as the remaining quad members. They were loyal and unlikely to question Cara's commands, but she knew that for all of Triana's follies, she was a smart woman.
Dahlia couldn't afford to be wrong either. She chose the side of caution, which meant she needed leave as soon as possible. She nodded to Cara, "The saddle is in the horse shed. I'll get the girls."
Cara gathered her horse first, the mare wasn't far, before saddling Dahlia's. She hadn't said it aloud, but she doubted Dahlia and the girls would be able to outpace any pursuers with only one horse between all of them-but she was sure they would try. If they were lucky, the Mord-Sith would follow her instead, leaving the others free to escape. Cara was okay with this.
After readying the horses, she came back inside to find Dahlia huddled with the girls, fastening their cloaks. Everything was already packed, though there didn't seem to be much.
"Everything is ready outside, " Cara stepped to the table and picked up the saddle bag, thinking it felt light if Dahlia planned to be traveling for more than a few days. She walked back outside to fasten the pack, while Dahlia finished with Berdine and Raina.
"Thank you," Dahlia murmured, Berdine and Raina tight on her heels. She saw Cara move to stand beside her horse and understood that this was a parting. She wished they had more time, but they didn't, "Where will you go?"
It would be better if Dahlia didn't know, "Across the peaks." Cara said vaguely, though there was only one place to go if she wasn't going to be staying in D'hara.
"To the Midlands?" Dahlia asked, aware as well, then as if it were the next obvious step, "Do you intend to seek asylum?"
Cara didn't have a plan beyond crossing the mountains-there were other pressing matters. Getting across one of the trails before the early snows set in would be task enough. After, she needed to be prepared for anyone hunting her from D'hara. Assimilating into the Midlands seemed less daunting beside everything else.
She felt a small knot of irritation form at not thinking of the importance of blending in. She couldn't exactly run around in her red leathers, so marked a Mord-Sith, in the land of Confessors.
Admitting the oversight was out of the question, and instead, "You seem to know a bit about that," Cara observed.
"Is this goodbye?" Berdine intruded without reserve, somewhat hopping into the open space between the adults, "I thought you were coming with us?"
"I'm not," Cara returned dryly.
"Come with us," Dahlia interjected, insistence in her voice, "Winter will take the cliff pass before you get through it, even if you travel by yourself."
Cara shrugged, a hint of a grin, "It's just a little snow."
Dahlia didn't pay attention to the slight rebuff, persisting, "I'm taking the girls to a hunting lodge my father made. There are more horses, supplies, and a north pass that will be a lot easier and just as fast as the high routes."
Cara didn't reply, wanting to accept, but feeling like she needed to refuse. Traveling with three others, two of them children, would make her easier to track.
Dahlia sighed and tried once more, "I know people in the Midlands that will help you. I've done this before and they haven't caught me yet."
Cara huffed with humor, "I found you."
"Yes, but not because you wanted to kill me."
It seemed a good enough point to Cara.
"Okay," she agreed, confidence and determination to follow through burgeoning inside and making her feel that the decision was sound, "Quickly."
Cara looked down to the two children, realizing one would be riding with her, the other with Dahlia. It couldn't be avoided unless someone was willing to walk, but that would only slow them down. She went for the closest child and swept Berdine up into the saddle gracefully. The little girl squeaked in surprise, tense with fright as she was seated. Cara ignored it, used to the reaction, and mounted behind her.
Berdine pushed firmly into Cara's torso, seeking solid surface, "I've never been on a horse."
"Afraid?" Cara asked absently as she watched Dahlia mirror her with Raina and felt Berdine nod, "You won't fall."
Cara wouldn't let her, obviously. She said it with such fact that Berdine couldn't help but believe her.
-------
Dahlia led them, knowing the path they followed by heart, the moon her guiding light. The two girls were showing the first signs of falling asleep after adrenaline kept them up. They had already been riding for at least half the night, the first stretch of time traveled in silence. They needed to attract as little attention as possible, but it was harder for the girls who couldn't help but trade whispers occaisonally. For Cara and Dahlia, even after they both knew they could afford some noise, they kept a comfortable silence.
Dahlia's eyes flickered between the ground, the darkness ahead, and Cara beside her.
"Do you remember Miss Cronson?"
The question was unexpected and Cara felt her jaw clench, "Yes."
"Was that her real name?" Dahlia asked thoughtfully.
"No," Cara breathed, wondering that Dahlia knew, "She was Sister Nathair."
Dahlia didn't reply. Cara glanced at her, seeing her lost in thought. The brunette's eyes were cast forward, but seeing more than the path before her. The quiet didn't bother Cara. She could feel the turmoil bubbling inside her in warning. She would rather not talk about the past. She didn't like dwelling and she'd never acknowledge just how much of a dweller she really was.
The girls were finally asleep, even Berdine as the little girl slowly lulled into relaxing, full lean against Cara. The arms on either side of her were secure and strong, creating a circle of red that was both safe and terrifying. Raina still had the easier time of it, being the quieter and less active of the two.
They left the main game trail they were following and started riding alongside a small dried-up creek. Cara took note of how much they were ascending even though the moutains weren't visible through the night and the shadowed treetops, but she guessed they were more or less climbing the base of the mighty landscape.
When Dahlia spoke again, her voice was hushed for the sake of the girl huddled against her torso, "She-Cronson, Nathair-is very good at blending in. Everyone still thinks she's the sweetest schoolteacher in all of D'hara."
"But you know the truth," Cara stated.
"Stowecroft doesn't get raided like other villages. The girls are just gone one day and the rest of us don't hear about it until it's all said and done. How did they decide who was worth taking?" Dahlia shook her head, because the answer had been right under everyone's noses. The ease and simplicity that a Mord-Sith infiltrated their small town seemed obvious in hindsight, "Who knew all the children well enough? It seemed pretty simple to put together once I became suspicious."
Blonde brows scrunched together for a moment, "You said everyone else isn't aware. Why haven't you said anything?"
"Like I said," Dahlia repeated, shifting as Raina fidgeted in her unconscious, "Stowecroft isn't raided by the Mord-Sith. If I told the militia, they would capture and kill her. Then what? They still need their girls."
"So you watch Nathair instead and take the girls before she does." Cara concluded, a touch impressed.
Dahlia nodded, "That's right," she sounded something close to satisfaction, "The town had another classroom built into the schoolhouse. I teach the older kids since Miss Cronson insisted on staying with the younger ones-no surprise," she tightened herself around the small girl in front of herself, a brief protective hug, "She wasn't perfect, not all the time. I could see the way she looked at the children, weighing their worth." Dahlia huffed, disgusted, "I suppose, after what happened to you, I don't trust so easily."
"You really think so?" Cara asked abrubtly, "You've told me everything. I could kill you now and take the girls."
Dahlia sighed, though she didn't fear the words for threat, "Is that your way of asking why I trust you?"
"I'm still a Mord-Sith. If necessary, I have no problem with sacraficing you to save myself." Cara laid out cooly.
Dahlia hummed and Cara gave her a side-long glance, sensing Dahlia musing over the response. A careful smile graced Dahlia's lips when she looked to Cara, "I'm not so sure you would have."
"You forget what I am," Cara spat darkly, a mix of warning and reminder.
"Is that why you were taken?" Dahlia pointed out with pensive rhetoric because even if she was overlooking that fact that Cara was Mord-Sith, she still remember the person Cara was before, "And I wasn't?"
Cara looked away, jaw flexing with irritation, feeling like she was biting back a retort that she didn't have in the first place. She took in the shapes and shadows cast by the forest, silent and unaccepting of character Dahlia saw in her.
Dahlia gave herself an indiscernible nod, confident in her rising trust for Cara.
TBC
Author: orange_creative
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing(s): Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R
Summary: The Spell of Undoing changed much more than ever expected.
Spoilers: Through the S2 finale, but this is a completely AU verse. Very AU, but so very familiar.
word count: 5,300
A/N: I should mention that Kahlan will not make an appearance for a while and for the first few installments, it will focus on Cara and Dahlia. And I'll be tearing up book and TV canon for my writing pleasure. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Copyrights associated with Legend of the Seeker and the Sword of Truth do not belong to me.
Part 1 | Part 2
-------
Cara followed the driver to a modest cabin, though it was too dark to make out many details from the distance of the tree line. Cara couldn't decide whether it match her memory or not, but light lit from inside the windows. The driver's shadow-defintiely a woman, by the looks of the riding skirt-came back outside and ruffled around in the back of the wagon. Two small children appeared, shucking off a blanket that covered them during the ride. They all went inside.
Cara knew that she had just found one of the links in Nathair's problem of rebels, or perhaps just this one rebel, smuggling children away before Nathair could get to them. She smirked mirthlessly, feeling the humor at stumbling upon the very reason that she was sent to Stowecroft.
Cara's instincts were telling her that the rebel was the now-grown Dahlia of Cara's faded memory. She could be completely wrong, her logic nagged. She shouldn't care about finding out whether she was right or not, but she didn't see herself returing to D'hara-if she even made it out alive. It might be her only chance and it fueled a need to know.
-------
"We're turning back." Triana announced.
Rikka's brow furrowed, "We have orders to wait here."
"She should have been here by now." Triana reasoned, turning to her horse and pulling herself up into the saddle, "Our assistance might be needed."
Laughter was the response, "I doubt that Cara, out of everyone, would require help," a trace of a smirk graced Rikka's lips. "Besides, orders are orders."
"And I'm not inclined to break Mistress Cara's." Hally piped up as a humorous warning. She wasn't sure what was going through Triana's head, but she didn't want to get dragged into her personal battle against Cara.
Triana felt anger boil beneath the surface of her leather, a sharpness in her breathing the only outward sign.
When the Cara first showed up at the People's Palace, she was all confidence and cheeky retorts with a list of accomplishments trailing behind her like minions. Triana wanted nothing more than to put Cara in her place, envious of how easily she moved through the ranks. She wanted to break Cara, humiliate her, and hear the word "mistress" slide from Cara's tongue in submission.
However, Cara continued to outshine those around her, somehow weilding an arrogance not normally possessed by most Mord-Sith. Cara's captives were quickly broken, and eager to please. She dominated the battlefield, the face of war creating harsh lines that made her a fearsome opponent.
Triana saw the opportunity for seduction when she caught Cara's lingering gaze on other sisters, appreciation certainly not unheard of, but she could take advantage of it. She managed her way into Cara's bed, tried to dominate her there. Yet, Denna's talents kept Cara tight-lipped and dismissive of everyone else. Cara stopped calling on Triana, seemingly forgetting about her. Between the two blondes, Triana found herself unable to find her way out from either of their shadows and it infuriated her.
Things would change. She knew Cara's weakness.
"Yes, she would never ask for assistance." Triana stated with a passing air that hardened, testing purposefully, "But we must consider the life of the Lord Rahl's unborn child as well."
Hally and Rikka glanced at each other, silently realizing that neither had been aware and feeling the subtle reminder that their duty and loyalty was ultimately owned by Darken and not another sister of the agiel. They both looked back at Triana, ready to let her take the lead even though they felt uneasiness about the circumstance.
Triumph simmered in Triana's veins, feeling the scales of power starting to tip in her favor.
-------
Buzzing tension coursed through Dahlia's body. She knew it wouldn't go away until the two girls resting in her bedroom were safe, a place much further away than her own home. The quiet reigned, the girls comforted by each other and Dahlia's reassurance that her return to the bedroom would be accompanied by hot cocoa. In truth, she needed a moment to gather herself so that she could give the girls a strong, positive front. Mord-Sith were prowling the forests around Stowecroft, stealthy and observing, their presence like a omniscient eye she constantly needed to avoid. It felt like a shadow of a predator she could see from the corner of her eye, finally catching up after years of running.
She walked to the firewood by the front door, thinking of how much time her and the girls had to rest before leaving. She still needed to pack a few supplies, food for the journey, and letters she had not yet written.
Reaching down, Dahlia lost the sense that she was alone, her distracting concerns suddenly forgotten. The floor creaked too closely and she had no time to react and process the Mord-Sith filling and bursting through her doorway. A red-leathered hand shot out toward Dahlia's face and she instinctually brought her arm up to ward herself. Instead, her wrist found itself caught in an unyielding grip. She lashed out with her other arm, to hit or scratch-anything-but she swiped at nothing but air. Her world spun as she was jerked forward, twisted, her back slamming against the wall with enough force to knock her breath from her lungs.
Dazed, she felt leather cover her mouth, making the task of breathing even harder. Her vision tilted, unfocused, while she was forced to suck in small desperate streams of air through her nose. She was pinned near immobile by a solid feminine body, one arm pressed tight at her hip by the grip on her wrist, the other free. Her limb didn't seem to understand her attempts to use it and instinct twitched her body in weak resistance.
It was only a matter of a few seconds, but time felt still as her senses came back to her. The Mord-Sith restraining her was all beautiful curves and deadly aura, reminding Dahlia of the steep, narrow path that lead up the face of the Azrith Cliffs. It held the view of an immense, vast landscape, but taking attention away from the path and a misstep could lead to serious injury, if not death. The blonde before her exuded the same need for attention.
There was a small dagger in Dahlia's boot, but she felt too restrained to attempt retrieving it. Trying to overcome a trained Mord-Sith by force required more strength and dexterity than Dahlia possessed.
She would wait for an opening, it was her only choice.
Cara, on the other hand, expected to recognize a young Dahlia in the features of the woman before her, but she still felt taken aback by the strange familiarity the woman possessed. The shape of grey eyes, with their fiery determination to resist and fight, gave Cara glimpses of the Dahlia she never knew. In her earlier years, when the red leather still felt new, her mind wandered every so often, sometimes fantasizing about her childhood playmate, wondering at a life she might have experienced.
When Cara didn't do anything, Dahlia shifted, pushing with her shoulders and her free hand. Cara responded by pressing closer, pressure as warning.
"Stop and listen carefully," Cara explained slowly and clearly when she caught Dahlia's gaze, "You can fight me and watch as my sisters storm in here and take the children," she just needed to get win a moment to explain, "Or you can stop struggling and the girls won't be hurt."
Furious rebellion lit Dahlia's eyes, even as her body stilled. Cara pulled away the hand covering Dahlia's mouth, taking the lack of movement as acquesience.
"Good, now-"
Dahlia jerked harshly, forcing Cara to shove her roughly back against the door, "I won't believe your lies, Mord-Sith." Her free arm came up to strike, but only managed a deflected blow against Cara's shoulder.
Cara's fingers twitched, her whole body tensing with the instinctual need to physically strike Dahlia in response. Dahlia must have felt the intent, her shoulders hitching up as if she could protect herself against the abuse she believed was inevitable. Cara's limbs trembled, but she controlled herself.
What was she trying to accomplish by coming here? Following Dahlia felt important at the time she made the decision, driven by impulsive curiosity. She should cut her losses and leave.
Pinned, Dahlia kept her guard up, ready for the incoming blow to give her a reason to fall to the floor and pull her knife, but Cara stepped away from her instead.
"I shouldn't have come here." Cara spoke, mostly to herself, disappointed for pursuing a foolish lark. What was she expecting? She didn't want to be there anymore-shouldn't, there wasn't even time-and moved to exit through the front door still ajar from her rush inside.
Dahlia didn't necessarily understand why Cara gave her an opening, but saw it for opportunity. The agiel had yet to be drawn and with the distance between them she may have enough time to grab her knife and defend herself. Cara saw the intent in her body lines, intuition telling her that Dahlia was either going to strike out or run. She didn't want to hassle with either scenario.
Speaking gravely, Cara paused at the door, "My sisters will be here soon and I can't be here when that happens. I suggest you leave very quickly. For your sake. And the girls." She snapped her attention outside, intent on not lingering.
With Mord-Sith gone and the children unharmed, Dahlia experienced a bewilderment that she never associated with the infamous red leather. She saw the violence in the other woman's eyes, wanting to be released. She thought, for a brief moment, that the Mord-Sith would strike her down, but the thrumming energy suddenly disappeared, sucked inward behind inner walls that Dahlia both understood and did not.
She could think of no reason for a Mord-Sith to barrel into her home-obviously aware of the children-just to leave. Was it subterfuge? Something to catch her off guard? But she couldn't think of a possible reason for a Mord-Sith to try and trick her. What would be the point? There was a certain practicality to the Mord-Sith. All that was needed was to kill Dahlia and take the girls like intended-problem solved. If they were determined enough to see if there were others involved, torture would be the method. In some ways, Mord-Sith were predictable.
Dahlia's thoughts inevitably wandered to the idea that this Mord-Sith might be-dare she think it-Cara Mason, finally returning like Dahlia imagined so many times. Time had dulled her hope, but a small slice was always carefully guarded. Could it be possible?
Though common sense told Dahlia not to extend her trust, she couldn't help but try.
Cara's stride, long and purposeful, quickly took her by Dahlia's horse and the horseshed. She briefly considered taking the animal, if only to prove that her trip here hadn't been an entire waste. She was traveling light, both for appearance and efficiency, but she would be able to travel easier with a second horse. Images of Dahlia and the two girls making a run by foot leaped to her conscious, unexpectedly making her uneasy. Cara didn't bother with the reasons and told herself that she already had everything she needed, leaving the horse behind.
She reached the treeline when footsteps sounded behind her.
"Wait!" Dahlia yelled while running down the worn path to the treeline, catching up to the blonde woman who was nearly sprinting away.
Cara turned and met her impassively.
"You came here for a reason," Dahlia asked out of breath, "It wasn't the girls, or you would have taken them."
Though the threat of danger still hovered closely, it no longer clouded Dahlia's thoughts. She took in full lips and the subtle melding of sharp lines and smooth covers. The darkness muted golden wheat hair and green eyes, but she remembered somewhat from the firelight in her home. Dahlia felt recognition, but she almost didn't remember what the girl of her childhood looked like anymore. Even so, she felt rising confidence in her Mord-Sith's identity.
"You're..." Dahlia swallowed, her throat dry, "Is that you, Cara?"
Something in Cara swelled, "Yes, Dahlia."
A soulful breath escaped Dahlia, carrying the hundreds of questions and answers with it. There were no words, but a faint smile emerged. She stepped forward, a hand reaching out to touch, as if to make sure Cara wasn't just the good spirit of a long lost friend.
Highlights on Cara's red leather shifted like spiders, showing the sudden tension in the blonde's body. Dahlia stopped with blackened green eyes boring into her. She felt the aura exuding from Cara wasn't intimidating, but uncomfortable. A reminder that was untimely for a reuniting of old friends.
Dahlia remembered the day Cara was taken, much of it unfocused though the emotions were still vivid. After Cara's mother found her, Dahlia found herself brought back to her home, parents clutching at her with relief and love. They collaborated and did everything in their power to make sure she would be safe. With one child already lost, they refused to lose another.
So much happened since, creating lives that were interlaced despite being so far apart. Whatever reason Cara returned, they both had obligations that rose above standing outside in.
She stepped back, giving Cara her personal space.
"Come back inside?" Dahlia offered.
Cara nodded after a heartbeat. She followed Dahlia, studying the loose braid that was shorter and messier than her own. She wondered that anyone could turn their back on her so easily. Cara couldn't think past that to perceive a certain happy relief radiating from Dahlia. She trailed alongside, barely a step behind, because her heart still remembered love even though her mind forgot.
-------
The hooves of horses pounded a steady rhythm on the forest floor. Triana, Hally, and Rikka finally reached the area where they part from Cara. There was company.
On foot, a Mord-Sith watched them come to a stop, Triana taking the lead position.
"We're here on order to assist Mistress Nathair," announced Triana.
"I am Nathair," the other woman stated, eyes narrowing as she took in the number of Mord-Sith before her, "Three? A quad was supposed to arrive tomorrow morning. Where is Sister Cara?"
Triana pursed her lips, "We were here hours ago. Cara is our strike leader, but she parted to meet you."
Nathair looked irritated, something was out of place, "She told me-"
"She's deserting," Triana said without reserve, feeling the gleam in her eyes at knowledge that this would destroy Cara's hold over everyone, "She told you tomorrow, but she's nowhere to be found. She is carrying the Lord Rahl's child and this deception of hers is no coincidence."
Rikka and Hally kept silent, the play of power beyond their influence.
"You mean to mark her a traitor?" Nathair declared gravely, "If you're wrong-"
"Then I will bear the consequences. That will pale in comparison to Darken Rahl's punishment," Triana stared down menacingly at Nathair, "If I'm right."
-------
Inside, Dahlia moved toward the bedroom, turning to Cara when she reached the door, "I have a lot to ask you, but I need to check on the girls. I didn't exactly leave them feeling safe."
"I don't have much time." Cara replied, surprised when she sounded more contrite than terse like she intended.
Dahlia dipped her head with acknowledgement, "I'll be quick."
She didn't shut the bedroom door behind her and Cara could hear the murmur of voices, a tangle of panic and reassurance. She listened for their conversation while her eyes took in the spread of food-much of it dried fare-laid out on the table. A few oilcloths were spread in the remaining area, ready to wrap and protect the food. A saddle bag was slung over the back of one of the chairs.
It seemed that she wasn't the only one who planned a journey.
Footsteps, too light to be Dahlia's, padded from the bedroom. Cara turned leisurely to see a small girl with rich, wavy brown hair and D'haran blue eyes.
"Miss Dahlia says you're a real Mord-Sith," the little brunette said bluntly while she hugged the doorframe, not necessarily afraid, but cautious, "But that you're a good one."
Cara's eyes flickered up to Dahlia standing just inside the bedroom. Her grey eyes begged indulgence when Cara's thinned in distaste.
"I'm very mean," corrected Cara, thinking it perfectly reasonable that children should fear the sight of her, "And that makes me a very good Mord-Sith."
The little girl's eyebrows scrunched together, trying to decipher whether Cara's words meant she needed to be scared or not.
Dahlia gestured aimlessly, slightly at a loss for the right words, "I just don't want them to be afraid right now."
"They're smart to fear me." Cara replied matter-of-factly, "I'm dangerous."
Dahlia's eyes swept up and down Cara's red leather, "I'm hoping we don't have to worry about that."
Trust was there, fragile, but tangible.
Cara met her gaze solidly, "You don't."
Cara took in the second child clutching Dahlia's riding skirts from behind, a little taller than the first. Her thick dark hair was tied into a ponytail and her shy chocolate gaze shied away from Cara's when they met.
"This is... Miss Cara, girls," Dahlia kneeled down and put a hand on a shoulder each, reassuring, then looked up at Cara with a smile, "This is Berdine and Raina."
Berdine kept a skeptical eye on Cara as Raina murmured a quick, skirt-muffled greeting, "Hi, Miss Cara."
Berdine's brow line suddenly relaxed with discovery and she piped up, "Are you running away from the Mord-Sith too?"
Surprised that the small girl managed to guess her course of action, Cara replied unthinkingly, "I am."
Dahlia's eyes bore into Cara wondering if she heard correctly, if the blonde was merely humoring Berdine.
The blue-eyed girl hummed in pleasure at her good guess, "That makes sense."
"We're running too," came Raina's subdued voice.
Berdine barreled forward with words, one step in Cara's direction, "Are you coming with us?"
Cara's mouth opened, wanting to reply, but nothing came out. It took her a moment to spit out a simple, "No, I'm not." How was it so easy for a child to lose their fear of her?
Deja vu creeped through Cara, feeling a familiarity in Berdine's trusting eyes and Raina's innocent curiosity. It had been a very long since she witnessed a child untouched by corruption and longer still since she felt what she saw in their faces. She wasn't sure what she wanted more, for the children to be shoved back into the room, all their terrible reminders locked away with them, or kept right where they were so she could just watch them.
Would her child be so raw and guileless?
Dahlia must have seen the inner turmoil or had a sense of it because she started ushering the children back into the room, "Come now, girls, back to bed. We've a long ride tomorrow."
There was no protest, but Berdine kept her eyes on Cara as she was gently pulled into the room. Those blue eyes were observant, fascinated with Cara-a monster who was not a monster. Cara returned her stare, if only because it somehow felt like a contest. If it was, oddly enough, Cara couldn't say she won.
Dahlia was back in moments after firm, yet gentle words of rest. With the door closed and the girls tucked away for the moment, Cara and Dahlia were left alone in the front room. Neither was sure how to breach the silence. What to say after so many years?
Where to start?
"I'm glad you're here." Dahlia expressed, all sincere honesty, "I never forgot you."
Cara didn't know how to verbalize her response, how she felt the same. Instead, she ducked her head in a small nod of acknowledgement. Dahlia smiled, for the both of them, seeming to understand, but nevertheless, Cara felt uneasy.
"I was going to make cocoa," Dahlia changed the subject, hoping they could talk while she prepared the drinks, "Would you like some?"
"No," Cara replied curtly-cocoa was a flimsy luxury to a Mord-Sith, and wryly added, "Thanks."
Dahlia couldn't help but think of when they were children, rushing through dinner on nights that they knew they would get a steaming mug of cocoa for dessert. She remembered how Cara used to wrap her hands around her cup, loving the way the liquid slid down her throat and warmed her up from the inside. Dahlia still enjoyed the sweet drink and it saddened her to think that Cara didn't care for it anymore.
She concentrated on Berdine and Raina instead, "It should help them sleep," she pulled a small canister from the cabinet, "They'll need the rest. We'll be leaving in a few hours."
Cara's heart and head were a mess, but focus came rushing back to the forefront. She quickly latched on to its stability and familiarity.
"You can't wait that long," urgency threaded Cara's words. "My sisters will be here much sooner than that."
A chill ran down Dahlia's spine and she turned to look at Cara, "The Mord-Sith?"
Cara nodded, "Yes, there isn't much time."
"They know I have the girls?" Dahlia shook her head, eyes breaking from Cara's to dart around the cabin as if she could find the answer of her misstep within it.
"No," guilt touched Cara for the first time in many years, "I brought them to your doorstep."
"Because you're running."
"Yes," Cara thought of the bigger reason, held inside her, "I need to leave too," she looked at the travel food laid out, thought of how many things Dahlia had to accomplish first to depart, and made a split second decision to do what she could, "I'll get your horse."
Dahlia reached out and grabbed Cara's wrist before the Mord-Sith rushed off, "They're that close?"
Cara refrained from her automatic reaction to jerk her hand free, but she still stepped away to break the contact, "I sent them toward the cliffs, but I won't take chances."
She wished she hadn't brought Triana, but it seemed like a small thing at the time to keep the other woman quiet about the pregnancy. There was a possibility that Triana might convince the other two to turn against her, which is why Cara chose Rikka and Hally as the remaining quad members. They were loyal and unlikely to question Cara's commands, but she knew that for all of Triana's follies, she was a smart woman.
Dahlia couldn't afford to be wrong either. She chose the side of caution, which meant she needed leave as soon as possible. She nodded to Cara, "The saddle is in the horse shed. I'll get the girls."
Cara gathered her horse first, the mare wasn't far, before saddling Dahlia's. She hadn't said it aloud, but she doubted Dahlia and the girls would be able to outpace any pursuers with only one horse between all of them-but she was sure they would try. If they were lucky, the Mord-Sith would follow her instead, leaving the others free to escape. Cara was okay with this.
After readying the horses, she came back inside to find Dahlia huddled with the girls, fastening their cloaks. Everything was already packed, though there didn't seem to be much.
"Everything is ready outside, " Cara stepped to the table and picked up the saddle bag, thinking it felt light if Dahlia planned to be traveling for more than a few days. She walked back outside to fasten the pack, while Dahlia finished with Berdine and Raina.
"Thank you," Dahlia murmured, Berdine and Raina tight on her heels. She saw Cara move to stand beside her horse and understood that this was a parting. She wished they had more time, but they didn't, "Where will you go?"
It would be better if Dahlia didn't know, "Across the peaks." Cara said vaguely, though there was only one place to go if she wasn't going to be staying in D'hara.
"To the Midlands?" Dahlia asked, aware as well, then as if it were the next obvious step, "Do you intend to seek asylum?"
Cara didn't have a plan beyond crossing the mountains-there were other pressing matters. Getting across one of the trails before the early snows set in would be task enough. After, she needed to be prepared for anyone hunting her from D'hara. Assimilating into the Midlands seemed less daunting beside everything else.
She felt a small knot of irritation form at not thinking of the importance of blending in. She couldn't exactly run around in her red leathers, so marked a Mord-Sith, in the land of Confessors.
Admitting the oversight was out of the question, and instead, "You seem to know a bit about that," Cara observed.
"Is this goodbye?" Berdine intruded without reserve, somewhat hopping into the open space between the adults, "I thought you were coming with us?"
"I'm not," Cara returned dryly.
"Come with us," Dahlia interjected, insistence in her voice, "Winter will take the cliff pass before you get through it, even if you travel by yourself."
Cara shrugged, a hint of a grin, "It's just a little snow."
Dahlia didn't pay attention to the slight rebuff, persisting, "I'm taking the girls to a hunting lodge my father made. There are more horses, supplies, and a north pass that will be a lot easier and just as fast as the high routes."
Cara didn't reply, wanting to accept, but feeling like she needed to refuse. Traveling with three others, two of them children, would make her easier to track.
Dahlia sighed and tried once more, "I know people in the Midlands that will help you. I've done this before and they haven't caught me yet."
Cara huffed with humor, "I found you."
"Yes, but not because you wanted to kill me."
It seemed a good enough point to Cara.
"Okay," she agreed, confidence and determination to follow through burgeoning inside and making her feel that the decision was sound, "Quickly."
Cara looked down to the two children, realizing one would be riding with her, the other with Dahlia. It couldn't be avoided unless someone was willing to walk, but that would only slow them down. She went for the closest child and swept Berdine up into the saddle gracefully. The little girl squeaked in surprise, tense with fright as she was seated. Cara ignored it, used to the reaction, and mounted behind her.
Berdine pushed firmly into Cara's torso, seeking solid surface, "I've never been on a horse."
"Afraid?" Cara asked absently as she watched Dahlia mirror her with Raina and felt Berdine nod, "You won't fall."
Cara wouldn't let her, obviously. She said it with such fact that Berdine couldn't help but believe her.
-------
Dahlia led them, knowing the path they followed by heart, the moon her guiding light. The two girls were showing the first signs of falling asleep after adrenaline kept them up. They had already been riding for at least half the night, the first stretch of time traveled in silence. They needed to attract as little attention as possible, but it was harder for the girls who couldn't help but trade whispers occaisonally. For Cara and Dahlia, even after they both knew they could afford some noise, they kept a comfortable silence.
Dahlia's eyes flickered between the ground, the darkness ahead, and Cara beside her.
"Do you remember Miss Cronson?"
The question was unexpected and Cara felt her jaw clench, "Yes."
"Was that her real name?" Dahlia asked thoughtfully.
"No," Cara breathed, wondering that Dahlia knew, "She was Sister Nathair."
Dahlia didn't reply. Cara glanced at her, seeing her lost in thought. The brunette's eyes were cast forward, but seeing more than the path before her. The quiet didn't bother Cara. She could feel the turmoil bubbling inside her in warning. She would rather not talk about the past. She didn't like dwelling and she'd never acknowledge just how much of a dweller she really was.
The girls were finally asleep, even Berdine as the little girl slowly lulled into relaxing, full lean against Cara. The arms on either side of her were secure and strong, creating a circle of red that was both safe and terrifying. Raina still had the easier time of it, being the quieter and less active of the two.
They left the main game trail they were following and started riding alongside a small dried-up creek. Cara took note of how much they were ascending even though the moutains weren't visible through the night and the shadowed treetops, but she guessed they were more or less climbing the base of the mighty landscape.
When Dahlia spoke again, her voice was hushed for the sake of the girl huddled against her torso, "She-Cronson, Nathair-is very good at blending in. Everyone still thinks she's the sweetest schoolteacher in all of D'hara."
"But you know the truth," Cara stated.
"Stowecroft doesn't get raided like other villages. The girls are just gone one day and the rest of us don't hear about it until it's all said and done. How did they decide who was worth taking?" Dahlia shook her head, because the answer had been right under everyone's noses. The ease and simplicity that a Mord-Sith infiltrated their small town seemed obvious in hindsight, "Who knew all the children well enough? It seemed pretty simple to put together once I became suspicious."
Blonde brows scrunched together for a moment, "You said everyone else isn't aware. Why haven't you said anything?"
"Like I said," Dahlia repeated, shifting as Raina fidgeted in her unconscious, "Stowecroft isn't raided by the Mord-Sith. If I told the militia, they would capture and kill her. Then what? They still need their girls."
"So you watch Nathair instead and take the girls before she does." Cara concluded, a touch impressed.
Dahlia nodded, "That's right," she sounded something close to satisfaction, "The town had another classroom built into the schoolhouse. I teach the older kids since Miss Cronson insisted on staying with the younger ones-no surprise," she tightened herself around the small girl in front of herself, a brief protective hug, "She wasn't perfect, not all the time. I could see the way she looked at the children, weighing their worth." Dahlia huffed, disgusted, "I suppose, after what happened to you, I don't trust so easily."
"You really think so?" Cara asked abrubtly, "You've told me everything. I could kill you now and take the girls."
Dahlia sighed, though she didn't fear the words for threat, "Is that your way of asking why I trust you?"
"I'm still a Mord-Sith. If necessary, I have no problem with sacraficing you to save myself." Cara laid out cooly.
Dahlia hummed and Cara gave her a side-long glance, sensing Dahlia musing over the response. A careful smile graced Dahlia's lips when she looked to Cara, "I'm not so sure you would have."
"You forget what I am," Cara spat darkly, a mix of warning and reminder.
"Is that why you were taken?" Dahlia pointed out with pensive rhetoric because even if she was overlooking that fact that Cara was Mord-Sith, she still remember the person Cara was before, "And I wasn't?"
Cara looked away, jaw flexing with irritation, feeling like she was biting back a retort that she didn't have in the first place. She took in the shapes and shadows cast by the forest, silent and unaccepting of character Dahlia saw in her.
Dahlia gave herself an indiscernible nod, confident in her rising trust for Cara.
TBC