a disturbing fondness for spiders
Following this. Only slightly unsafe for work, I think.
*
Kahlan spends most of the day lounging idly about the beach, collecting seashells and watching the waves. There are, she supposes, worse ways to spend a day. She tries not to worry too much about Richard, although she suspects her constitution is quite incapable of the same. The setting sun paints the sky in shades of red and orange.
The night air feels warmer-or perhaps it's just the way Cara looks at her, quietly sipping on the rum Kahlan declined. Silence stretches out between them, heavy, and Kahlan finds herself compelled to babble, 'What was it like? In the future, I mean?' It's only a story she's heard from Richard many times, but somehow it feels necessary to hear the sound of her own voice. 'Travelling in time. With Richard.'
'We got along very well,' Cara says, dry. 'I hit him on the head with a rock.'
'I've heard.' Kahlan can't help but smile.
'And then we ate maggots for dinner,' Cara says. Kahlan can only make a face in response, and Cara continues, 'You were dead. Richard shed copious tears over your coffin.'
'There was a coffin?' Kahlan says. It comes out somewhat strangled. Richard prefers to skim through this part of the story, and Kahlan has never pressed.
'A coffin with your likeness on it,' Cara says, nonchalant. 'It was the kind of thing Darken Rahl would make.'
This time, she doesn't refuse when Cara offers her the bottle. The liquid burns down her throat, settles low in her belly, warm.
'I'm glad you were there with Richard,' Kahlan says after a while. She's surprised how much she means it. There's something to be said about the rum-the way it loosens her tongue, makes her say unlikely things. 'Trouble seems to follow him wherever he goes,' she says with a rueful smile, 'and I can't always be there to help.' Despite the Governor's best efforts, there are only so many allowances the Navy can afford his grandson. Cara is an ally, and oddly loyal in that way pirates can be to the few they consider their own-it's a relief, Kahlan thinks now, to have her by Richard's side in a sea of dubious hirelings.
'It's my duty to serve Lord Rahl,' Cara says. Her expression is unreadable.
'You didn't know he was a Rahl then,' Kahlan points out.
'I wanted to get out of that miserable place,' says Cara with a small shrug. The firelight casts shadows on her face, and Kahlan has to look away, fix her gaze on the sky, the waves.
They pass the liquor back and forth in silence, until there's none left. And afterwards, Cara pulls her close and Kahlan doesn't say no.
There are a hundred reasons why she should not indulge herself, but none of them seem pertinent at the moment. The kisses taste of rum and intoxication.
*
It's well past noon the following day when a ship finally appears in the horizon-small and sleek, bearing colours Kahlan does not recognize.
'Rum runners?' she asks Cara.
Cara's response is terse. 'No,' she says, already drawing her bow.
Kahlan heaves a sigh of relief when she spots the figure on the deck, waving enthusiastically: it is Richard, unmistakably so.
'It's not his ship,' Cara says, shaking her head. 'This could be a trap.' But she doesn't argue when Kahlan proceeds to drag the rowboat from its spot in the sand and pushes it into the water. This time, mercifully, there are no quips about her rowing skills.
*
Things are less calm when Cara spots the figure on the deck beside Richard-a tall woman unfamiliar to Kahlan, with flowing golden locks and a twisted smile. 'Nicci!' she hisses, and stands so abruptly that the boat nearly overturns.
'What are you doing?' Kahlan says, struggling to keep the vessel afloat.
Her admonition falls to deaf ears as Cara says, 'What's she doing here?', reaching for her bow again while Richard pleads, 'No, Cara, she's on our side, don't.'
She is Sister Nicci, Kahlan gathers-after they're both safely aboard Richard's ship and Cara has been cajoled into restraining herself for the moment-a former member of a secret order that worships the Keeper of the Underworld and calls its members the Sisters of the Dark. The activities of the order in the Midlands, as far as Kahlan can recall, is mostly confined to making gloomy predictions about the future and displaying a disturbing fondness for spiders, but Nicci exudes an aura of power that goes far beyond such harmless antics. Sister Nicci is dangerous.
'What happened to your ship?' Kahlan says, noting the way Nicci's smile grows wider.
'There was... an incident,' Richard says, sheepish.
'An incident?'
'A mutiny,' Nicci says, speaking for the first time. Her tone is dry, mocking.
'Nicci here has been helping me,' Richard explains. 'We, uh, commandeered this ship from Portsmouth-'
'And we would've been here earlier if it weren't for a slight disagreement with the ship's owners,' Nicci finishes with a smirk.
Kahlan can only hope Richard hasn't been recognised.
'You found us,' Cara says, mutinous. 'She can go now.'
'She'll be sailing with us for now,' Richard says. 'I told you, Cara, she's on our side.'
'She can't be trusted!' Cara says. 'She's a sorceress!' Kahlan had suspected as much.
'She helped me find the third piece of the map,' Richard says. 'But even if we put them all together, we can't read it in daylight, or any sort of ordinary light. It has to be read in the light of a Nightwisp.'
'Nightwisps don't exist,' Cara says. 'Not anymore.'
'That's what you think,' says Nicci, and Kahlan has to put a restraining hand on Cara's forearm until she subsides with a glare.
'What do you have in mind?' Kahlan asks Richard, even though she suspects she knows the answer already. She knows that stubborn set of his jaw, has seen it countless times in the past and argued in vain.
'We have to find the Nightwisps,' Richard says, brightening immediately.
Sister Nicci looks very smug. Cara appears furious, and Kahlan could laugh at the absurdity of it all, the strange shift in roles where Cara is the one arguing against Richard's propensity to trust powerful women with dubious pasts. 'Then we'll find the Nightwisps,' is all she says.
*
In the course of the following few days, Kahlan is witness to a number of small skirmishes, all of them along the lines of:
'She can't be trusted!'
'I know who she is, Cara, and I'm not asking you to trust her. I'm asking you to have faith in me.'
One evening while at the helm, Kahlan finds herself in the company of an exceedingly disgruntled Cara, who declares, 'It's foolish to trust Nicci,' sullen. 'She's dangerous.'
'I know,' Kahlan says. There's that desire to laugh again-after all, not so long ago, she herself had said the same of Cara, had been convinced that they'd both be murdered in their sleep while Cara made away with The Seeker and went back to her marauding ways. And yet now here they are, talking, not a dagger or vicious jibe in sight. 'I know.' She sighs.
Cara merely looks at her, as though daring her to say more. Speak her mind.
'Richard has a gift for finding friends in unlikely places,' Kahlan says slowly, not certain how she'll explain this to Cara. 'I don't trust Nicci, but I do trust Richard. She might end up surprising us,' she ends with a small smile. '
For a moment Cara almost seems taken aback-only for a moment, and then she says, 'She was an ally of Darken Rahl's. Then she betrayed him.'
'And that's a bad thing?' Kahlan says lightly.
'You don't understand,' Cara says, shaking her head. 'Nicci doesn't serve anyone but herself. She betrayed Darken Rahl. She will betray Richard.'
Kahlan has nothing to offer in response-no words that will dispel Cara's concerns or allay her own fears.
***
[Um, as is evident, this doesn't actually have a plot. I have no idea why I was seized by a sudden desire to write it - possibly because I sat down to write something non-fandom-y, with a deadline. *facepalm*]
ETA: The DW crossposter doesn't seem to be working, hmm.
*
Kahlan spends most of the day lounging idly about the beach, collecting seashells and watching the waves. There are, she supposes, worse ways to spend a day. She tries not to worry too much about Richard, although she suspects her constitution is quite incapable of the same. The setting sun paints the sky in shades of red and orange.
The night air feels warmer-or perhaps it's just the way Cara looks at her, quietly sipping on the rum Kahlan declined. Silence stretches out between them, heavy, and Kahlan finds herself compelled to babble, 'What was it like? In the future, I mean?' It's only a story she's heard from Richard many times, but somehow it feels necessary to hear the sound of her own voice. 'Travelling in time. With Richard.'
'We got along very well,' Cara says, dry. 'I hit him on the head with a rock.'
'I've heard.' Kahlan can't help but smile.
'And then we ate maggots for dinner,' Cara says. Kahlan can only make a face in response, and Cara continues, 'You were dead. Richard shed copious tears over your coffin.'
'There was a coffin?' Kahlan says. It comes out somewhat strangled. Richard prefers to skim through this part of the story, and Kahlan has never pressed.
'A coffin with your likeness on it,' Cara says, nonchalant. 'It was the kind of thing Darken Rahl would make.'
This time, she doesn't refuse when Cara offers her the bottle. The liquid burns down her throat, settles low in her belly, warm.
'I'm glad you were there with Richard,' Kahlan says after a while. She's surprised how much she means it. There's something to be said about the rum-the way it loosens her tongue, makes her say unlikely things. 'Trouble seems to follow him wherever he goes,' she says with a rueful smile, 'and I can't always be there to help.' Despite the Governor's best efforts, there are only so many allowances the Navy can afford his grandson. Cara is an ally, and oddly loyal in that way pirates can be to the few they consider their own-it's a relief, Kahlan thinks now, to have her by Richard's side in a sea of dubious hirelings.
'It's my duty to serve Lord Rahl,' Cara says. Her expression is unreadable.
'You didn't know he was a Rahl then,' Kahlan points out.
'I wanted to get out of that miserable place,' says Cara with a small shrug. The firelight casts shadows on her face, and Kahlan has to look away, fix her gaze on the sky, the waves.
They pass the liquor back and forth in silence, until there's none left. And afterwards, Cara pulls her close and Kahlan doesn't say no.
There are a hundred reasons why she should not indulge herself, but none of them seem pertinent at the moment. The kisses taste of rum and intoxication.
*
It's well past noon the following day when a ship finally appears in the horizon-small and sleek, bearing colours Kahlan does not recognize.
'Rum runners?' she asks Cara.
Cara's response is terse. 'No,' she says, already drawing her bow.
Kahlan heaves a sigh of relief when she spots the figure on the deck, waving enthusiastically: it is Richard, unmistakably so.
'It's not his ship,' Cara says, shaking her head. 'This could be a trap.' But she doesn't argue when Kahlan proceeds to drag the rowboat from its spot in the sand and pushes it into the water. This time, mercifully, there are no quips about her rowing skills.
*
Things are less calm when Cara spots the figure on the deck beside Richard-a tall woman unfamiliar to Kahlan, with flowing golden locks and a twisted smile. 'Nicci!' she hisses, and stands so abruptly that the boat nearly overturns.
'What are you doing?' Kahlan says, struggling to keep the vessel afloat.
Her admonition falls to deaf ears as Cara says, 'What's she doing here?', reaching for her bow again while Richard pleads, 'No, Cara, she's on our side, don't.'
She is Sister Nicci, Kahlan gathers-after they're both safely aboard Richard's ship and Cara has been cajoled into restraining herself for the moment-a former member of a secret order that worships the Keeper of the Underworld and calls its members the Sisters of the Dark. The activities of the order in the Midlands, as far as Kahlan can recall, is mostly confined to making gloomy predictions about the future and displaying a disturbing fondness for spiders, but Nicci exudes an aura of power that goes far beyond such harmless antics. Sister Nicci is dangerous.
'What happened to your ship?' Kahlan says, noting the way Nicci's smile grows wider.
'There was... an incident,' Richard says, sheepish.
'An incident?'
'A mutiny,' Nicci says, speaking for the first time. Her tone is dry, mocking.
'Nicci here has been helping me,' Richard explains. 'We, uh, commandeered this ship from Portsmouth-'
'And we would've been here earlier if it weren't for a slight disagreement with the ship's owners,' Nicci finishes with a smirk.
Kahlan can only hope Richard hasn't been recognised.
'You found us,' Cara says, mutinous. 'She can go now.'
'She'll be sailing with us for now,' Richard says. 'I told you, Cara, she's on our side.'
'She can't be trusted!' Cara says. 'She's a sorceress!' Kahlan had suspected as much.
'She helped me find the third piece of the map,' Richard says. 'But even if we put them all together, we can't read it in daylight, or any sort of ordinary light. It has to be read in the light of a Nightwisp.'
'Nightwisps don't exist,' Cara says. 'Not anymore.'
'That's what you think,' says Nicci, and Kahlan has to put a restraining hand on Cara's forearm until she subsides with a glare.
'What do you have in mind?' Kahlan asks Richard, even though she suspects she knows the answer already. She knows that stubborn set of his jaw, has seen it countless times in the past and argued in vain.
'We have to find the Nightwisps,' Richard says, brightening immediately.
Sister Nicci looks very smug. Cara appears furious, and Kahlan could laugh at the absurdity of it all, the strange shift in roles where Cara is the one arguing against Richard's propensity to trust powerful women with dubious pasts. 'Then we'll find the Nightwisps,' is all she says.
*
In the course of the following few days, Kahlan is witness to a number of small skirmishes, all of them along the lines of:
'She can't be trusted!'
'I know who she is, Cara, and I'm not asking you to trust her. I'm asking you to have faith in me.'
One evening while at the helm, Kahlan finds herself in the company of an exceedingly disgruntled Cara, who declares, 'It's foolish to trust Nicci,' sullen. 'She's dangerous.'
'I know,' Kahlan says. There's that desire to laugh again-after all, not so long ago, she herself had said the same of Cara, had been convinced that they'd both be murdered in their sleep while Cara made away with The Seeker and went back to her marauding ways. And yet now here they are, talking, not a dagger or vicious jibe in sight. 'I know.' She sighs.
Cara merely looks at her, as though daring her to say more. Speak her mind.
'Richard has a gift for finding friends in unlikely places,' Kahlan says slowly, not certain how she'll explain this to Cara. 'I don't trust Nicci, but I do trust Richard. She might end up surprising us,' she ends with a small smile. '
For a moment Cara almost seems taken aback-only for a moment, and then she says, 'She was an ally of Darken Rahl's. Then she betrayed him.'
'And that's a bad thing?' Kahlan says lightly.
'You don't understand,' Cara says, shaking her head. 'Nicci doesn't serve anyone but herself. She betrayed Darken Rahl. She will betray Richard.'
Kahlan has nothing to offer in response-no words that will dispel Cara's concerns or allay her own fears.
***
[Um, as is evident, this doesn't actually have a plot. I have no idea why I was seized by a sudden desire to write it - possibly because I sat down to write something non-fandom-y, with a deadline. *facepalm*]
ETA: The DW crossposter doesn't seem to be working, hmm.