Cara/Kahlan | Pulse | R
OMG this fic is so AU, I don't even!
Hopefully no one will be insulted by my raping of the fandom, but a few of the details from the book just begged to be used in this fic. Like, in the book 3, Kahlan is named the Queen of Galea. She's about to marry Richard (OR IS SHE?). Also, the Kahlan in this fic is HBIC!Kahlan, easily recognized by her lounging sitting style and love for sexing. So yes. The prompt was given by the magificently brilliant starbuck_river .
On with the story.
Title: Pulse
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: HBIC!Kahlan/Cara
Rating: R
Summary: The rumor was that her husband, Richard Rahl, Master of D’Hara, preferred taking on new quests rather than taking his own wife to bed. The man must be mad, Denna thought, to leave a woman such as Kahlan Amnell all alone and unattended for months at a time.
Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me. Go on, take it! Take it, I say.
Warning: bad attempt at being a wordsmith. Also, I'll probably end up in a fangirl jail where there are no sexy lady cops to pay me a visit. Unbeta'd.
The din died down immediately when the front door flung open and two big Galean city guardsmen stepped in. Behind them, wrapped in a beautiful white wolf’s fur mantle, walked in a woman, tall and graceful in her step.
All patrons ogled them with obvious interest, some more nervous than the others to see Galean soldiers; there were some pretty influential members of the Council, as well as the members of the Court present, and they all enjoyed the company or beautiful young women - some, yes, entertained by bare-chested and muscled men as well - dressed in the finest Keltish silk and some barely wearing any clothes at all. They stopped what they were doing, whether they were eating, drinking, flirting or downright fornicating for everyone to see, all to take a better look at the newcomer and the guards at her side.
A collective gasp filled the room as the woman pulled the hood of her mantle down and her long black hair spilled in rich ringlets over her shoulders and back. It took them only one look to become conscious of who she was and, there was no mistake, they all realized, that if any of them were to voice their recognition, their evening wouldn’t end well.
Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor, the Queen of Galea, at a brothel? Unheard of! Every single patron and Madame Denna’s employee would sooner die in a world of agony than reveal it as a true fact if anyone was to ever ask.
“Your Highness...” Denna hurried to the queen’s side, alarmed at the implications of having the monarch herself show up at the front door rather than at the back entrance like she usually had. “How can I be of service?”
“Throw all these people out,” she said coldly and dropped a purse heavy with silver coins into Denna’s palm.
With a sharp tilt of Denna’s head every singe customer of the place shuffled to their feet and scurried to the door. All who remained were the employees of Madame Denna’s house of pleasure.
“If your Highness were to inform me sooner of her arrival, I would have made arrangements-”
“No need for a fuss, Madame Denna,” Kahlan said, “The matter is resolved now.”
Madame Denna, an imposing, sensuous looking woman, known widely as an ex member of the Mord’Sith sisterhood, calmly stood beside the queen, waiting to be instructed.
It wasn’t really an inconvenience, having her house cleared out so abruptly and some of her customers scared into doubtfully returning again because the queen herself came often and paid more than well.
The rumor was that her husband, Richard Rahl, Master of D’Hara, preferred taking on new quests rather than taking his own wife to bed. The man must be mad, Denna thought, to leave a woman such as Kahlan Amnell all alone and unattended for months at a time.
Luckily, Denna had a collection of disposable young men eager to surrender themselves to the queen and her Confessor powers.
“Who will it be this evening, my queen?” Denna purred sweetly while Kahlan’s eyes inspected the room. “Will you be interested in a fine D’Haran, chiseled and tall to guide you to the finest of pleasures by his strong hand. Or would you like a young Ebinissian, blessed by the spirits with an unmatched stamina? Perhaps-”
Kahlan cut her off with a simple wave of her hand. She looked bored. Until: “Her.” Kahlan tilted her chin in a vague direction of the back of the room.
Denna smiled widely, “Your Highness has an excellent taste.” She glided over to the group of young women, all barely out of their teens. “There’s nothing quite as enticing as innocence.” She stroked one of the girls’ long dark hair and then lifted her head by tilting her chin up to reveal two blushing cheeks.
Kahlan closed her eyes and shook her head with a tiniest of smiles touching her lips. “No, not her,” she pointed again, this time with her hand, “Her.”
Denna followed the direction more carefully until her eyes found the very back of the room and one of her new additions, a woman she took in more out of sentimentality than prospect of earning a good coin. The woman was beautiful, yes, but she had a vile temper and was only assigned to the more brute of the customers. She didn’t mind being treated poorly; she received pain with equal flourish as when being the one to deliver it. Cara was her name and, just like Denna, she was a former Mord’Sith.
“Your Highness,” Denna cooed, “May I suggest you reconsider your choice? Cara here is new and, surely, unsophisticated enough to attend to your needs.”
“She’s a Mord’Sith, or am I mistaking?” Kahlan smiled pleasantly at Denna, a smile that was, at one point, enough to bring the entire Midlands to its knees. When Denna nodded to confirm, Kahlan shifted her eyes and caught the defiant glare of the other woman. “Then she will attend to my needs quite nicely.”
It was obvious that Cara in a dress was, compared to the elegance and fluid grace Denna possessed, like a fish out of water. The woman must have been truly desperate to join the group of Denna’s employees, not because of the nature of the job, but because of what it must have done to her Mord’Sith pride to end like a common wench for hire.
“Do you still have her Mord’Sith leather?” She spoke to Denna while inspecting her purchase for the evening more closely. The woman had an exquisite pair of breasts and a body that was built to perfection by years of training. Her hair was a bit wild; the braid she once wore proudly had obviously been severed in a most savage way. A hunting knife, maybe? It wasn’t important, Kahlan mused, her hair was bound to get even wilder in the course of the evening.
“Of course, your Highness,” Denna nodded. “Which one of the three are you interested in?”
“The burgundy one. Have her put it on. Agiel, too.”
For the first time Denna’s face revealed unease and, it was only a second but Kahlan caught it, the two Mord’Sith exchanged a confused look.
“As your Highness wishes.” Denna bowed slightly. “Feel free to proceed into the master suite while Cara gets ready. Strawberries, chocolate and champagne are already waiting to please your palate before we take care of your needs of a more corporal nature.”
“Leave.” Kahlan signaled the two guards as soon as Cara showed up at the door of the suite. The two men knocked the heels of their boots together and then left to stand guard at the corridor - far enough to be discrete but close enough to be of assistance in a second if their queen was to summon them.
Her fur mantle was discarded on a nearby chair while Kahlan lounged comfortably in one of the plush chairs with a flute of champagne in one hand. “Come in,” she beckoned the Mord’Sith.
As Cara slowly walked over, Kahlan disposed of the glass and leaned in with her elbow against her knee. “So much better than that ridiculous dress you had on earlier.” The leather truly did bring out all the finest qualities of her figure as well as it made her look menacing. But Kahlan couldn’t be bothered by it; she requested the Mord’Sith with a reason. “You’re surprised I asked for you to have your Agiel with you.” It was a statement, not a question, one that had Cara tilt her head in agreement. “I suppose you know who I am, which also means you know perfectly well you’d be dead sooner than you manage to even think about using that Agiel against me.”
“Yes.” Cara answered briskly to what Kahlan lifted an eyebrow in amusement. Cara realized her omission and quickly corrected herself. “Yes, your Highness.”
Kahlan stood up swiftly; the skirt of her dress fell with a swoosh and touched the floor in one smooth flow of silk. She considered wearing her Confessor dress, but decided against it. The elegant deep blue dress she in the end chose was more fitting. Also, easier to remove.
“You probably take pleasure in having people fear you.” She moved to Cara’s side and gently touched her arm. She could feel muscles flexing under her touch. Outstanding. “Do you fear me, at this moment? One touch from me and you’d die in the most awful agony.”
“No your Highness,” Cara said simply, “I believe your desire is to be pleased and not to simply kill me.”
Kahlan bit her lip; she could feel her pulse quickening.
“Show me.” Kahlan nodded at the Agiel holstered against Cara’s thigh.
The Mord’Sith drew it, her eyes hooding at the feel of pain traveling through her arm and filling every cell in her body. She missed the feel of it. Kahlan could sense the involuntary tightening of the muscles just by holding her hand against Cara’s shoulder. The pain not only moved through Cara but it vibrated off of her and extended itself to Kahlan’s body. She responded in the most unexpected of ways by actually wanting to grab onto the leather rod with her own hand and feel that pain without a buffer. She moved her hand off of Cara’s shoulder to the back of her head and drew her in a fierce kiss. The magic of the Agiel was stronger that way, making Kahlan gasp into the Mord’Sith’s mouth. Cara drew her closer, flattening Kahlan’s chest against hers until the other woman couldn’t stand it any longer and pushed herself away.
“That was pretty bold of you.” Kahlan squinted.
“I’m only here to please.” Cara squeezed out the words. Kahlan could unmistakably tell how dishonest those words were even though the Confessor in her could not read a Mord’Sith.
“Shall we move onto that, then?” Kahlan leered. She walked backwards until the backs of her knees found the edge of the bed. Cara followed her in a slow saunter, her Agiel swinging freely around her wrist by its gold chain.
Kahlan perched herself against the bedcovers and then motioned the Mord’Sith to kneel before her. Cara complied without a flinch. She gasped when Cara fisted her Agiel again and then moved in to part the skirt of Kahlan’s dress with its tip until the smooth, milky thigh came into view. Cara leaned in, touched her lips to the warm skin just above Kahlan’s knee, and then licked her way up, all the way to the crease of the thigh. Kahlan watched Cara with hooded eyes as the Mord’Sith parted her legs and settled herself between them. She didn’t wait for any instruction - it wasn’t necessary - and dipped her head.
She had a proficient tongue, Kahlan surely had to give her that. The way it glided over her, languidly, elicited long, low moans from deep within Kahlan’s chest. The fact that Cara still gripped her Agiel in one hand, allowing the magic to reverberate onto Kahlan through their intimate connection, did absolute wonders to Kahlan’s body and mind. The fantasy long dreamed of unraveled right before her.
As her moans got louder and more frequent, Kahlan felt Cara’s willingness to proceed weaken. She grabbed onto the back of the Mord’Sith’s head, burying her fingers into her hair to make sure she doesn’t slip away. Kahlan felt her stop and it annoyed her. She reluctantly let go of Cara’s hair when she started to move out of the way.
“Excuse me, your Highness,” Cara whipped her lips with the back of her hand, “But I don’t wish to die this evening, if I have a choice.”
“You will die if I have to finish this myself.”
“You’re not really giving me a choice here-”
Kahlan reached for her neck grabbing onto the decorative choker matching her dress that wrapped around her neck. She pulled it down to reveal a seamless silver collar, a Rada’Han controlling her Confessor power.
“Now, finish it,” she squeezed out through her teeth, “before I finish you, with my dagger.”
Still reluctant, Cara tightened her jaw. If it was true, she will be one of the very few Mord’Sith who had the rare pleasure of having a Confessor climax under their hand and live through the experience. Not that it meant anything much now after being forced to whore to earn a coin.
She nodded her head compliantly and returned her attention back to pleasing the Galean queen.
Not long after, Kahlan’s head lolled back. Her fingers fiercely pulled on a fistful of Cara’s hair. Her breath got stuck halfway between her lungs and her throat. There was a thud of soundless pulse to the air. Kahlan let go of Cara’s hair, flopping contently onto her back, allowing the Mord’Sith to slide down desolately from her knees onto the carpet.
She felt it. She had been confessed.
“Are you gonna just slouch there or do you Mord’Sith know any other way in pleasing a woman besides managing a few nicely placed strokes with your tongue?”
Cara blinked and sat up. She was still herself. There was no agonizing remorse twisting on her insides. She was alive. And the Confessor on the bed before her demanded a more vigorous attention than the one already received.
“Does your Highness have any special wishes?” Cara’s lips stretched into a wicked grin.
Kahlan observed her for a moment and then tilted up her chin. “Take your leather off. Bring your Agiel. We’ll figure out the rest of it as we go.”
The end