FIC: THUNDER ONLY HAPPENS WHEN IT'S RAINING (49 part 1/?)
itle: Thunder only happens when it's raining
Author: zagadka4_lj
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: PG 17
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Legend of The Seeker and this was written for enjoyment; certainly mine, hopefully yours.
Summary: Set immediatly after Tears.
When the Keeper was defeated, it seemed that life should start again with happiness and joy, but now Kahlan was feeling only woe and sadness. Along the way toward home, things go awry for the Seeker and his band. They are forced to take paths which will bring them to face what future holds and deal with events from the past. Kahlan will find out that love has many sides and shapes.
Words Count: 11620
A/N: i'm really sorry for the long delay guys... if there's still someone out there reading!
Chapter 49 - Love laughs and love can make you cry
(Verse from the song “Love gives, love takes”)
When Cara woke up two days later, Khalan wasn’t there.
Arthur and Eliza had infinitely nagged at their Mistress, insisting that she had to get a full night of sleep in a soft bed and a real meal calmly eaten with her feet under a table, instead of some rustled up snacks hastily consumed while nervously pacing in Cara’s room. Kahlan - whose nerves were at the end of the tether - had chastised the confessed couple several times, complaining that she was sick of their hassles and ordering them to leave her alone. After her bursts the Confessor regularly sighed and added the unkindness against those poor two people - who already suffered the grave loss of their free will because of her - to the count of her sins, pledging to be more patient with them the next time and hoping that they’d just let her do as she wished. But the devotion they had for her - that she herself provided to pour into them - was stronger than the fear of her angry snapping at them, so they punctually returned insisting when Kahlan's yawning and brushing her hands on heavy lidded eyes seemed to be good allies to their cause.
When finally Stefan got over his hesitations - for he was still somewhat afraid of Kahlan, after having witnessed the sharpest and scary edge of her resolve - he also showed up and begged her to leave Cara’s room to take care of herself, because her exhaustion was honestly becoming worrisome. After hearing his request, Kahlan couldn’t bring herself to say no to him. She knew all too well that he was right and that a break from her self-imposed penance was needed. That mistreating herself was of no good for anyone - certainly not for Cara - and wouldn't serve to lessen her faults. So it happened that the petition request from the confessed couple didn't lead Kahlan to reason, but the same prayer spoken from the child did, probably because his face resembled too much the person she’d never bring herself to say no to.
Kahlan decided to allow herself a night of sleep and Eliza prepared the second bedroom of the cottage, eagerly arranging everything for her Mistress’ break to be as pleasant and peaceful as possible. The Confessor followed the young wife and stepped in the room. It was small but warm and nice looking. Agreeably lighted with the soft orange glow of many candles and aromatic with the air smelling of olive dry leaves and orange peels withering above the coals of the heath. After Eliza left, leaving her privacy Kahlan noticed a tub filled with pleasantly tepid water. She allowed herself to relax and clean better than she had hurriedly done in the past week - and most of the weeks since some months to tell truth. It seemed to the Confessor that the haunting reek of blood - which hints she thought she still smelled sometimes in the darkest and loneliest of her hours - was finally washed away. A tray with a sumptuous stewed mutton served with fragrant fresh bread and followed by an exquisite goat milk pudding and ripe red grapes drove a loud growl out of her belly and the Confessor did justice to the young wife’s culinary efforts. When a properly stuffed Kahlan buried herself in fresh clean sheets and warm blankets scented with lavender, she couldn’t deny that having someone this devoted taking care of you had some bright sides after all. She made a point to warmly thank Eliza the next morning.
The relaxing night coupled with the Confessor’s fatigue achieved to make her fall in a sleep so heavy that - despite Kahaln’s fear for nightmares - bad dreams didn’t reach her. The following morning a soft smile was pulling her lips, as she dreamed sweet nonsenses too deeply rooted in her slumber to be remembered upon her waking up. As her misery was forgotten and wrapped in the oblivion of a restoring repose. A delightful awareness silently spreading into her, that such a bliss was too beautiful to be wrong.
But like all the blissful things, it lasted short. At early dawning Eliza rushed in the room - that was opposite to the one where Cara slept - squealing and bustling like crazed; Kahlan was abruptly torn apart from her sweet drowsing and unceremoniously tossed back into the hard reality.
“Mistress, Mistress! Wake up!!” She cried, nudging Kahlan’s shoulder. The habit of being alert took over the Confessor who rolled over and fumbled with her arms to protect herself from the potential aggressor. In a flash she stretched her hand and seized the neck of the other woman, but realized the situation before releasing anything. Not that confessing Eliza again would make any difference to her - the voice of her conscience snidely jabbed.
“The blonde woman is awake!” Eliza kept on, uncaring of Kahlan’s rude reaction. “Arthur and I have watched over her all through the night as you ordered. She’s been quiet and hadn’t fever and now she’s awakening and I’ve come here immediately to tell you, as you commanded. Did I please you Mistress? I swear that she has barely opened her eyes. I darted here to warn you as soon as-“
“By the Spirits, shut up!” Kahlan croaked gruffly with her palms over her ears. The still sleeping part of her brain wanted to blame this chatterbox for rousing her that brusque way and throwing up so many unnecessary words. Apparently a dull headache had awoken along with Kahlan and her body was begging for more sleep. But eyeing Eliza's heartbroken expression the compassionate part of her finally woke up and she recalled how attentive the young wife had been the night before; Kahlan felt horrible twofold. Besides Eliza was just dutifully following her instructions. Kahlan was the one to blame for confessing her - the sting of guilt bit hard, popping up from the back of her conscience for the umpteenth time. And maybe the fate and its irksome sense of humor were to be blamed as well, for making Cara awake just the morning when Kahlan surrendered to take a break.
She got a grip on herself and tried to blink away the drowsiness. “I’m sorry Eliza I didn’t mean to snap at you. Thank you for warning me and for all the things you did for me yesterday.” She fluttered her lashes to better focus her sight, conveying all of her gratitude in her look. “You truly pleased me.”
The young wife seemed to be on the verge of tears of joy and Kahlan felt a little less horrible. She lifted from the bed and difficultly willed her mind to concentrate on the present. She found herself standing in her nightshift then her senses began to properly work. Suddenly out of the warm blankets and instead wrapped in the crisp morning air she felt shivers running across her skin and a slight dizziness spreading on her. A vague ache was pulsing behind her eyes and the rough sensation of the wooden floor under her bare feet made her realize the contrast between the solid heavy reality and the ethereal inconsistency of her gone sweet dreams. She took a deep intake of the fresh morning air and her mind started processing the notion with more clarity. Cara was awake.
Kahlan strode past Eliza and rushed into Cara’s room, her beats instantly picking up a speedier rate. Taking steps, crossing through the door and walking straight to Cara’s bed were easy acts that she dealt with automatic self-assurance. Letting her look slip and survey Cara’s immobile and relaxed form - checking out of habit that the bandages had been changed and were clean - was a natural reflex that she couldn’t control even if she wanted.
But when her eyes lifted up about to meet Cara’s, she recalled how the blonde was certainly infuriated with her to say the least. That she’d probably flinch and scowl and scream her anger, if not try to strike her, albeit in her weak condition she’d hardly move at all. She recalled that Cara would express her hate and disgust for Kahlan. That Cara would definitively break her heart. All these thoughts ran across Kahlan’s mind in the matter of a split second and she took another deep breath, but never - not even for a heartbeat - did she hesitate. Her look glided sure to face her destiny in the eyes of the woman she loved.
Their gazes met.
And Cara didn’t move a muscle. She just blinked and her face stayed blank. And silence stretched between them for what looked like an eternity.
Cara finally broke the stillness with a throaty grunt that vaguely sounded like Kahlan’s name. Her expression being of confusion and haze, but nothing else than that. She blinked again.
And Kahlan’s heart just melted down. Her knees felt suddenly weak and her stomach rolled turbulently. Regardless of the dread that would happen with the blonde now, a stream of pure elation poured down from her. Cara was there before her, safe and - if not completely sound - in an acceptable condition at least. All her fears and angst for what Cara would think of her suddenly appeared to her nothing but petty trifles. Kahlan knew very well that it wasn't petty and certainly not trifles, for the integrity of her heart depended on the blonde's reaction, but it just shifted to a secondary importance. Cara being safe was primary and above everything else. Cara being alive was a blessing. Cara being close to her, so that she could just contemplate her, watch her sleep or hear the sounds she’d make was a blissful privilege... To feel the warmth of Cara’s skin - a deliberate and purposeful touch - would be too much to hope for, but overwhelmed and overjoyed, Kahlan just nonsensically hoped against the hopes. Suddenly she felt like she wanted to laugh and cry and sing and scream at once. Being close to Cara now was like being close to craziness, but one that tasted sweet. She felt that at that moment - despite Cara’s face being pale as ever, despite scabs and cuts scattered over it and that absurdly big bandage ringing her forehead - she looked more beautiful and alluring than ever.
A broad radiant smile overcame the awkward frown on Kahlan’s face and she glowed with sincere happiness. It could be her imagination, sure, or her wish to see a positive reaction in Cara, but the Confessor could swear that the confusion in the blonde reeled, giving way to a vague hint of awe creeping in her expression; she could swear that Cara’s breath slightly hitched and her eyes widened. But even if it was true, it could be because of hundreds of reasons other than for seeing Kahlan’s joyful smile. Still the push to lean forward and just hug Cara tightly and press her lips against the blonde's suddenly struck Kahlan so violently that it ached, but she fought her instinct. That the blonde still wasn’t giving signs of evident repulsion didn’t mean that she wasn’t upset and furious. Kahlan busied her shaky hands with clenching around the armrest of the chair and pulling it closer. It loudly scraped against the floor telling how graceless Kahlan's motion was. Then she heavily sat putting her weak knees in a safe position and hoping that Cara wouldn't tell her edginess too easily.
“Spirits, Cara are you really awake?” She broke out, immediately blaming herself for voicing such a stupid question. Her edginess was blatant! “You obviously are… you don’t sleep with open eyes… It’s just that… it’s been a week and you were unconscious all the time and… Spirits, I was so worried! You were always restless and you had fever and nightmares… The stuff the healer gave you helped, but it never lasted long and I tried to be close to you, to soothe you, but…” Kahlan realized that she was ridiculously rambling. Evidently cohabiting with that chatterbox Eliza was rubbing off on her. And her edginess was lifted to the level of ridiculousness. Cara had a strong power over her, over every side of her. “How do you feel?”
Cara blinked again and looked at her still with blank expression.
“Yes I know. Don't speak you are obviously exhausted and have to save your energy.” Kahlan mentally chastised herself again, for apparently she couldn’t help but keep on tossing out drivels. “But the good thing is that the fever seems to be over now. You must be thirsty and hungry maybe? Is there anything I can do for you? Tell me whatever you want and I will give it to you.”
Cara blinked again and didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement.
“Creator Cara, say something! You’re worrying me!” That Kahlan had ordered Cara not to speak just few moments before was an occurrence odd enough, but that the blonde was now duly complying with something she was told and especially given the circumstances drove the Confessor completely panicked. She'd expect anger or pique at least, or maybe that unique cold detachment that Cara had perfected in to a form of art. But this kind of impassivity was different: she looked like a white page on a book. It wasn't detachment, it was void. What the healer had said - that the blow in the Mord-Sith’s head may affect her faculties and even turn her demented - suddenly rang as an alarm bell in her head. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” She asked spelling out words impossibly slow. Distress replacing edginess and coloring her wary voice as much as her cheeks.
Cara eloquently rolled her eyes and curled her lips in a bothered expression that made up for the unvoiced 'Do you think I'm an idiot?!' Kahlan loudly sighed relieved and faintly smiled. Cara clearly still had the faculty of understanding and still was capable of being witty. The blonde slowly moved a hand and limply tapped the bandage wrapping her head and ears.
“Oh you mean you don’t hear me?” Kahlan noticed how actually, between the bandage and the many pillows, Cara’s ears were practically clogged. She sighed in relief and moved to fix the bandage so that Cara's ears were free. “Better?” She asked pulling back. Cara grunted, weakly working with her hand and brushing her head against the pillows, trying to slip the loosened bandage out of her forehead.
“You must keep that. The healer said that-“ Before the Confessor could finish her argument the bandage had slipped out and Cara was weakly tossing it away. Kahlan moved some wisps of blonde hair aside and inspected the injury that was now completely closed. She decided to grant Cara this small victory. Not without letting her know her opinion though. “Mule head! Not even a sledge hammer was capable of breaking that hard skull of yours!”
Cara’s face stayed impassive but she moved her mouth as if speaking, although no sound got past her throat. However Kahlan easily lip-read the short word Cara had formed. 'Ax'.
"Mule head and nitpicking! Whatever was the weapon, the result is still that you never listen and always do on your own stubborn way!”
The tiniest curve pulled the corner of Cara’s mouth in a faint version of her smug grin; the brunette’s words were more a compliment than a reprimand to her. Kahlan’s heart just clenched with joy.
"I'm glad that your head is so hard and didn't get broken." Kahlan let out. It was meant to be a quip, but the hearty tone revealed how worried Kahlan had been. And how relieved she was now.
The Confessor realized how exchanging small talk with Cara was enough to remove any oppressive weight from her shoulders and she also processed that the blonde had just allowed a touch from her. Nothing but soft brushes with her fingertips, and a small racking of her hand through blonde hair, but that Cara hadn't even flinched as she leaned closer wasn't something that Kahlan would consider of little importance. It looked like the bad experiences of the past weeks - and especially what Kahlan did to Cara in the clearing - had never happened and they were joking carefree like they once used to do. Kahlan was suddenly reminded of how much she had missed just being in Cara’s company; the both of them free to be themselves and simply enjoy the small time together. But that longing to be completely free, lowering their defenses and allowing a true contact was always lingering into Kahlan.
The Confessor had barely touched Cara, but even that small sip was fueling her thirst. Heat was simmering into her and her fingers already prickled to fully tangle in blonde hair and run across silken skin, but she knew better to keep her hands off Cara. Or keep her lips apart from Cara’s unless the other woman made clear that such contact was granted. How ludicrous it felt to think of such a thing now! Cara would let her that close again in the day the sky would reverse its place with the sea. And if that day would ever come then Kahlan knew that she'd be able to fly in the sea and walk on the surface of the sky out of her mere happiness. But this all was foolish nonsense. Cara was out of her reach now and the first she'd become accustomed with it, the better.
Sure, but the memory of that consuming last kiss burned like fire in Kahlan's mind and body. Try as she might to feel ashamed of taking advantage of Cara at that moment, she couldn't deny how arousing it was kissing Cara that hungry feral way. To hold her possessively and to play in balance between eagerly giving and rudely taking; a game that Kahlan was sure Cara was well versed with and had probably appreciated in the years of her Mord-Sith’s career. Maybe it was just habit that made her play that game at that moment when she had indubitably returned Kahlan’s kiss. Maybe…
“So do you hear me better now?" She asked, blinking away her perilous wonderings.
Cara nodded but her expression was musing. She held the pillow and pressed it against her good ear, then looked at Kahlan prompting her to speak again.
"What about now?" Kahlan tested speaking low. Cara concentrated with furrowing eyebrows. Her lips curled downward and she slightly tipped her head to Kahlan who repeated a bit louder. Cara just pressed the pillow against her ear harder and her frown deepened. All the mirth evaporated in a moment.
“Your ear… it doesn’t…?” Kahlan failed to say it aloud, but Cara slightly shook her head to confirm that she was deaf on the harmed side.
Kahlan’s hand instantly ran to Cara’s wrist and she tenderly squeezed. “I’m so sorry Cara…” The other woman wrenched her arm from the grip and turned her head around; clear-cut lines running across her forehead. “It may not be definitive. It may recover with time…”
Cara’s eyes stayed averted; her lips obstinately pinched. Cold dropped on them and suddenly Kahlan didn’t know how to act. Too late she recognized how piteous and pointless her words had just been; Cara was a proud Mord-Sith, used to torture and pain. She didn’t want pity or consolation. She didn’t need a sniveling Kahlan to give her false hopes or remind her that in battle there were often losses that couldn’t be fixed. She needed time and space to work out on her own and Kahlan slowly dragged her hand away and stayed silent. She pondered for a moment whether leaving, but found herself incapable of getting far from Cara now. Soon she’d move, but now it was too early, they’d barely traded some words and she didn’t want Cara to be alone now despite the awkwardness being heavy and Cara’s gaze obstinately held apart. She was probably wishing to be on her own or at least that she had something to draw the attention on something else other than her misfortunes.
She was clenching her fists and staring at them; Kahlan immediately guessed what kind of solace she was longing.
“Your Agiels are in a safe and locked spot here. I had to ensure that no one would accidentally get hurt. And you can’t touch them now, you’re too weak.”
The last word made Cara’s nose scrunch and her look was a mixture of nervous and anger; two deep vertical lines were now cut through her forehead, restoring that typical Mord-Sith’s stern mode. Maybe she felt that she had to compensate the lack of her weapons with sporting her Mord-Sith’s alertness. Cara started assessing the surrounding, obviously trying to figure where she was and probably trying to recall what had happened. When she caught sight of Eliza - who was uncomfortably leaning against the hinge of the door - her look became even more suspicious and she scowled deeper; her body stiffening under the covers.
“It’s okay Cara. She's Eliza. She and her husband Arthur... they are... friends." Kahlan touched on, unable to control the slight blush on her cheeks. "Trusted ones... We are in their home."
Cara's gaze switched from Eliza to Kahlan and then back on the young wife. That peculiar expression on the face of the hostess - a mixture of adoration and slight mortification for having been pushed aside from her Mistress, who clearly had eyes only for the blonde woman - spoke in lieu for whatever clumsy explanation from Kahlan. Cara's eyes narrowed to two thin slits and the Confessor bit her lower lip, knowing that she was caught. Nonetheless she was incapable of mentioning aloud the improper use of her powers with Cara for the time being. Instead she gave a huffy sign to Eliza dismissing her and the woman walked away with a bitter face that just reinforced Cara's supposition.
“We came here after the battle… It snowed most of the time since then, paths are impassable." Kahlan reassured her, but her true aim was diverting attention from her obvious fault. “We’re safe here and Stefan is-“
Cara’s deep frowning was suddenly broken and she jumped panicked on the pillows. Her eyes widening at the reference of her son.
"Everything’s fine, calm down.” Kahlan’s hands ran in spite of her and she held the blonde on her shoulders, leading her back to the mattress. Again Cara didn’t seem to mind that much about being touched from the other woman and again it surprised Kahlan. She almost expected her palms to burn with contact with Cara’s skin this time. But she withdrew her hold before the blonde could realize and complain. “He's fine. He’s in the living room with Arthur."
Cara looked skeptically at Kahlan and a retort was clearly lingering on the tip of her tongue, but still she didn't spill a word.
"He’s okay, I swear to you. Arthur is trusted and capable. Here we have nothing to be afraid of. I can call the boy here.” Kahlan proposed. “You surely want to see him and-"
Cara's eyes widened again and she shook her head decisively 'NO'. Panic spread on her now pinker cheeks and Kahlan wondered what it was the problem with the child now. But she decided not to press the Mord-Sith, who looked suddenly more tired.
A heavy silence enveloped them again and to Kahlan everything seemed surreal with the two of them close and acting civil despite the loads of outstanding things unspoken and heaving under the ceiling. Despite their last exchange having been all but civil. There was some sort of odd calm hanging over them now, although the tension was palpable. Probably there still hadn't been any outburst because Cara was exhausted and probably this calm was just being the quiet before the storm. Yet, although Cara’s pique was evident, it wasn’t crossing through the edge of anger apparently and the Mord-Sith wasn't one for hiding her anger; if she had something that irritated her, you could wager that she'd find a direct way to let you know that. Likely with the help of her Agiels. And to think better, not only had Cara still not lashed out at her, but she still hadn't spoken at all. Not a single word. The entire situation was absurd.
"Do you remember when I came back to you in that clearing?" The whispered question slipped out of Kahlan's mouth before she could actually think of what she was asking.
Cara's face returned blank and she remained in that sort of trance for a quantity of time that Kahlan couldn't gauge, maybe seconds maybe hours... She was sitting by Cara’s deaf side so maybe she had spoken too low and Cara hadn't heard her? Maybe Cara was trying to recall that moment? Or to forget it? Kahlan lacked the courage to ask again and Cara stayed mute for long moments. The tension grew higher and Kahlan felt taut as a bowstring; that prolonged stillness was more excruciating than yells and threats. When the blonde parted her lips - Kahlan's breath held and her beats impossibly hammering - a rush of coughing caught her and she tried to catch her breath, but the juddering of her chest just coupled with aching pangs of her multiple wounds and she was helpless.
Kahlan ran to help her to sit, but Cara waved her off before the Confessor could make contact. Kahlan recorded the dull thud of her heart being dented from Cara's brusque rejection, but that wasn't the moment for self-pity. She called Eliza - who immediately peeked out - and ordered her to bring fresh water. When the young wife came back with a pitcher and two glasses, Cara's onset had calmed into a murmured hacking. The Confessor filled a glass and glanced at Cara, unsure whether the blonde would accept it. It was a stupid idea; despite what had happened between them - namely Kahlan angrily attempting to confess Cara - it was nonsensical thinking that Cara may expect Kahlan handing her something harmful. Yet how could Kahlan expect Cara to trust her? Who could ever know how Cara would react to their new state?
Cara's thirsty gaze spoke for the blonde's willingness to accept the water; she loudly swallowed in anticipation with a noticeable bob of her throat knob and the Confessor warned her to drink only few sips and slowly, or it would make her throw up. Cara paid no attention to the recommendation and as Kahlan handed the glass close to her lips, she gulped down greedily. Kahlan took the water away and the Mord-Sith coughed again and protested with a coarse grunt. Kahlan felt moved and granted her another small sip of the liquid relief. It was an odd situation in which Kahlan felt in subjection of Cara’s judgment, but still she had the upper hand on the physically impaired blonde and was somewhat the one leading the situation between the two of them.
After drinking Cara seemed to relax a bit and sank down on the pillows, her weakness painfully obvious now. The features of her face telling of her exhaustion with dark circles cut through under her eyes and a crown of wildly tousled golden mane framing the sharp ridge of her cheekbones, jutting out more noticeably than usual. Kahlan's question seemed momentarily forgotten and the tension washed away from tiredness.
The rational and opportunist part of Kahlan thought that it was regard for Cara's condition, if she didn't ask again. But the honest - and bigger - part of her knew better that it was cowardice what took over her and made her drop the topic for the time being. No doubt that Cara would get back on track to claim her toll of wrath against the treacherous Confessor as soon as forces would allow her.
Kahlan couldn't still stand the guilt for what she had done. She'd probably never stand it, but facing Cara on this issue was her worst nightmare. One she knew would swallow her sooner than later. But she wasn't prepared now, having slept too little and being still confused with the joy for seeing Cara finally awake and in her right mind. She needed more time to think of what she may say, although she already knew it wasn't a matter of time for finding the right words. There just weren't words neither right nor wrong. There weren't words at all to say, to explain, to excuse, to admit or confess. There was just an infinite guilt with which Kahlan would never learn to live with.
"You should get some rest." She piteously offered, suddenly feeling tired as much as Cara. “We'd better stop talking now.”
"For my own sake or yours?" Cara retorted crossly.
Hearing the sound of a raspy voice that had waited thus far to echo, Kahlan gasped and her heart sank somewhere deep down in her belly. Her face instantly burned hotter than the sun and she knew she was sporting an uncharacteristic crimson on her cheeks. But Cara wasn't seeing this all. She had already closed her eyes and dozed off with exhaustion.
Leaving Kahlan to deal with her doubts and fears.
Author: zagadka4_lj
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: PG 17
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Legend of The Seeker and this was written for enjoyment; certainly mine, hopefully yours.
Summary: Set immediatly after Tears.
When the Keeper was defeated, it seemed that life should start again with happiness and joy, but now Kahlan was feeling only woe and sadness. Along the way toward home, things go awry for the Seeker and his band. They are forced to take paths which will bring them to face what future holds and deal with events from the past. Kahlan will find out that love has many sides and shapes.
Words Count: 11620
A/N: i'm really sorry for the long delay guys... if there's still someone out there reading!
Chapter 49 - Love laughs and love can make you cry
(Verse from the song “Love gives, love takes”)
When Cara woke up two days later, Khalan wasn’t there.
Arthur and Eliza had infinitely nagged at their Mistress, insisting that she had to get a full night of sleep in a soft bed and a real meal calmly eaten with her feet under a table, instead of some rustled up snacks hastily consumed while nervously pacing in Cara’s room. Kahlan - whose nerves were at the end of the tether - had chastised the confessed couple several times, complaining that she was sick of their hassles and ordering them to leave her alone. After her bursts the Confessor regularly sighed and added the unkindness against those poor two people - who already suffered the grave loss of their free will because of her - to the count of her sins, pledging to be more patient with them the next time and hoping that they’d just let her do as she wished. But the devotion they had for her - that she herself provided to pour into them - was stronger than the fear of her angry snapping at them, so they punctually returned insisting when Kahlan's yawning and brushing her hands on heavy lidded eyes seemed to be good allies to their cause.
When finally Stefan got over his hesitations - for he was still somewhat afraid of Kahlan, after having witnessed the sharpest and scary edge of her resolve - he also showed up and begged her to leave Cara’s room to take care of herself, because her exhaustion was honestly becoming worrisome. After hearing his request, Kahlan couldn’t bring herself to say no to him. She knew all too well that he was right and that a break from her self-imposed penance was needed. That mistreating herself was of no good for anyone - certainly not for Cara - and wouldn't serve to lessen her faults. So it happened that the petition request from the confessed couple didn't lead Kahlan to reason, but the same prayer spoken from the child did, probably because his face resembled too much the person she’d never bring herself to say no to.
Kahlan decided to allow herself a night of sleep and Eliza prepared the second bedroom of the cottage, eagerly arranging everything for her Mistress’ break to be as pleasant and peaceful as possible. The Confessor followed the young wife and stepped in the room. It was small but warm and nice looking. Agreeably lighted with the soft orange glow of many candles and aromatic with the air smelling of olive dry leaves and orange peels withering above the coals of the heath. After Eliza left, leaving her privacy Kahlan noticed a tub filled with pleasantly tepid water. She allowed herself to relax and clean better than she had hurriedly done in the past week - and most of the weeks since some months to tell truth. It seemed to the Confessor that the haunting reek of blood - which hints she thought she still smelled sometimes in the darkest and loneliest of her hours - was finally washed away. A tray with a sumptuous stewed mutton served with fragrant fresh bread and followed by an exquisite goat milk pudding and ripe red grapes drove a loud growl out of her belly and the Confessor did justice to the young wife’s culinary efforts. When a properly stuffed Kahlan buried herself in fresh clean sheets and warm blankets scented with lavender, she couldn’t deny that having someone this devoted taking care of you had some bright sides after all. She made a point to warmly thank Eliza the next morning.
The relaxing night coupled with the Confessor’s fatigue achieved to make her fall in a sleep so heavy that - despite Kahaln’s fear for nightmares - bad dreams didn’t reach her. The following morning a soft smile was pulling her lips, as she dreamed sweet nonsenses too deeply rooted in her slumber to be remembered upon her waking up. As her misery was forgotten and wrapped in the oblivion of a restoring repose. A delightful awareness silently spreading into her, that such a bliss was too beautiful to be wrong.
But like all the blissful things, it lasted short. At early dawning Eliza rushed in the room - that was opposite to the one where Cara slept - squealing and bustling like crazed; Kahlan was abruptly torn apart from her sweet drowsing and unceremoniously tossed back into the hard reality.
“Mistress, Mistress! Wake up!!” She cried, nudging Kahlan’s shoulder. The habit of being alert took over the Confessor who rolled over and fumbled with her arms to protect herself from the potential aggressor. In a flash she stretched her hand and seized the neck of the other woman, but realized the situation before releasing anything. Not that confessing Eliza again would make any difference to her - the voice of her conscience snidely jabbed.
“The blonde woman is awake!” Eliza kept on, uncaring of Kahlan’s rude reaction. “Arthur and I have watched over her all through the night as you ordered. She’s been quiet and hadn’t fever and now she’s awakening and I’ve come here immediately to tell you, as you commanded. Did I please you Mistress? I swear that she has barely opened her eyes. I darted here to warn you as soon as-“
“By the Spirits, shut up!” Kahlan croaked gruffly with her palms over her ears. The still sleeping part of her brain wanted to blame this chatterbox for rousing her that brusque way and throwing up so many unnecessary words. Apparently a dull headache had awoken along with Kahlan and her body was begging for more sleep. But eyeing Eliza's heartbroken expression the compassionate part of her finally woke up and she recalled how attentive the young wife had been the night before; Kahlan felt horrible twofold. Besides Eliza was just dutifully following her instructions. Kahlan was the one to blame for confessing her - the sting of guilt bit hard, popping up from the back of her conscience for the umpteenth time. And maybe the fate and its irksome sense of humor were to be blamed as well, for making Cara awake just the morning when Kahlan surrendered to take a break.
She got a grip on herself and tried to blink away the drowsiness. “I’m sorry Eliza I didn’t mean to snap at you. Thank you for warning me and for all the things you did for me yesterday.” She fluttered her lashes to better focus her sight, conveying all of her gratitude in her look. “You truly pleased me.”
The young wife seemed to be on the verge of tears of joy and Kahlan felt a little less horrible. She lifted from the bed and difficultly willed her mind to concentrate on the present. She found herself standing in her nightshift then her senses began to properly work. Suddenly out of the warm blankets and instead wrapped in the crisp morning air she felt shivers running across her skin and a slight dizziness spreading on her. A vague ache was pulsing behind her eyes and the rough sensation of the wooden floor under her bare feet made her realize the contrast between the solid heavy reality and the ethereal inconsistency of her gone sweet dreams. She took a deep intake of the fresh morning air and her mind started processing the notion with more clarity. Cara was awake.
Kahlan strode past Eliza and rushed into Cara’s room, her beats instantly picking up a speedier rate. Taking steps, crossing through the door and walking straight to Cara’s bed were easy acts that she dealt with automatic self-assurance. Letting her look slip and survey Cara’s immobile and relaxed form - checking out of habit that the bandages had been changed and were clean - was a natural reflex that she couldn’t control even if she wanted.
But when her eyes lifted up about to meet Cara’s, she recalled how the blonde was certainly infuriated with her to say the least. That she’d probably flinch and scowl and scream her anger, if not try to strike her, albeit in her weak condition she’d hardly move at all. She recalled that Cara would express her hate and disgust for Kahlan. That Cara would definitively break her heart. All these thoughts ran across Kahlan’s mind in the matter of a split second and she took another deep breath, but never - not even for a heartbeat - did she hesitate. Her look glided sure to face her destiny in the eyes of the woman she loved.
Their gazes met.
And Cara didn’t move a muscle. She just blinked and her face stayed blank. And silence stretched between them for what looked like an eternity.
Cara finally broke the stillness with a throaty grunt that vaguely sounded like Kahlan’s name. Her expression being of confusion and haze, but nothing else than that. She blinked again.
And Kahlan’s heart just melted down. Her knees felt suddenly weak and her stomach rolled turbulently. Regardless of the dread that would happen with the blonde now, a stream of pure elation poured down from her. Cara was there before her, safe and - if not completely sound - in an acceptable condition at least. All her fears and angst for what Cara would think of her suddenly appeared to her nothing but petty trifles. Kahlan knew very well that it wasn't petty and certainly not trifles, for the integrity of her heart depended on the blonde's reaction, but it just shifted to a secondary importance. Cara being safe was primary and above everything else. Cara being alive was a blessing. Cara being close to her, so that she could just contemplate her, watch her sleep or hear the sounds she’d make was a blissful privilege... To feel the warmth of Cara’s skin - a deliberate and purposeful touch - would be too much to hope for, but overwhelmed and overjoyed, Kahlan just nonsensically hoped against the hopes. Suddenly she felt like she wanted to laugh and cry and sing and scream at once. Being close to Cara now was like being close to craziness, but one that tasted sweet. She felt that at that moment - despite Cara’s face being pale as ever, despite scabs and cuts scattered over it and that absurdly big bandage ringing her forehead - she looked more beautiful and alluring than ever.
A broad radiant smile overcame the awkward frown on Kahlan’s face and she glowed with sincere happiness. It could be her imagination, sure, or her wish to see a positive reaction in Cara, but the Confessor could swear that the confusion in the blonde reeled, giving way to a vague hint of awe creeping in her expression; she could swear that Cara’s breath slightly hitched and her eyes widened. But even if it was true, it could be because of hundreds of reasons other than for seeing Kahlan’s joyful smile. Still the push to lean forward and just hug Cara tightly and press her lips against the blonde's suddenly struck Kahlan so violently that it ached, but she fought her instinct. That the blonde still wasn’t giving signs of evident repulsion didn’t mean that she wasn’t upset and furious. Kahlan busied her shaky hands with clenching around the armrest of the chair and pulling it closer. It loudly scraped against the floor telling how graceless Kahlan's motion was. Then she heavily sat putting her weak knees in a safe position and hoping that Cara wouldn't tell her edginess too easily.
“Spirits, Cara are you really awake?” She broke out, immediately blaming herself for voicing such a stupid question. Her edginess was blatant! “You obviously are… you don’t sleep with open eyes… It’s just that… it’s been a week and you were unconscious all the time and… Spirits, I was so worried! You were always restless and you had fever and nightmares… The stuff the healer gave you helped, but it never lasted long and I tried to be close to you, to soothe you, but…” Kahlan realized that she was ridiculously rambling. Evidently cohabiting with that chatterbox Eliza was rubbing off on her. And her edginess was lifted to the level of ridiculousness. Cara had a strong power over her, over every side of her. “How do you feel?”
Cara blinked again and looked at her still with blank expression.
“Yes I know. Don't speak you are obviously exhausted and have to save your energy.” Kahlan mentally chastised herself again, for apparently she couldn’t help but keep on tossing out drivels. “But the good thing is that the fever seems to be over now. You must be thirsty and hungry maybe? Is there anything I can do for you? Tell me whatever you want and I will give it to you.”
Cara blinked again and didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement.
“Creator Cara, say something! You’re worrying me!” That Kahlan had ordered Cara not to speak just few moments before was an occurrence odd enough, but that the blonde was now duly complying with something she was told and especially given the circumstances drove the Confessor completely panicked. She'd expect anger or pique at least, or maybe that unique cold detachment that Cara had perfected in to a form of art. But this kind of impassivity was different: she looked like a white page on a book. It wasn't detachment, it was void. What the healer had said - that the blow in the Mord-Sith’s head may affect her faculties and even turn her demented - suddenly rang as an alarm bell in her head. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” She asked spelling out words impossibly slow. Distress replacing edginess and coloring her wary voice as much as her cheeks.
Cara eloquently rolled her eyes and curled her lips in a bothered expression that made up for the unvoiced 'Do you think I'm an idiot?!' Kahlan loudly sighed relieved and faintly smiled. Cara clearly still had the faculty of understanding and still was capable of being witty. The blonde slowly moved a hand and limply tapped the bandage wrapping her head and ears.
“Oh you mean you don’t hear me?” Kahlan noticed how actually, between the bandage and the many pillows, Cara’s ears were practically clogged. She sighed in relief and moved to fix the bandage so that Cara's ears were free. “Better?” She asked pulling back. Cara grunted, weakly working with her hand and brushing her head against the pillows, trying to slip the loosened bandage out of her forehead.
“You must keep that. The healer said that-“ Before the Confessor could finish her argument the bandage had slipped out and Cara was weakly tossing it away. Kahlan moved some wisps of blonde hair aside and inspected the injury that was now completely closed. She decided to grant Cara this small victory. Not without letting her know her opinion though. “Mule head! Not even a sledge hammer was capable of breaking that hard skull of yours!”
Cara’s face stayed impassive but she moved her mouth as if speaking, although no sound got past her throat. However Kahlan easily lip-read the short word Cara had formed. 'Ax'.
"Mule head and nitpicking! Whatever was the weapon, the result is still that you never listen and always do on your own stubborn way!”
The tiniest curve pulled the corner of Cara’s mouth in a faint version of her smug grin; the brunette’s words were more a compliment than a reprimand to her. Kahlan’s heart just clenched with joy.
"I'm glad that your head is so hard and didn't get broken." Kahlan let out. It was meant to be a quip, but the hearty tone revealed how worried Kahlan had been. And how relieved she was now.
The Confessor realized how exchanging small talk with Cara was enough to remove any oppressive weight from her shoulders and she also processed that the blonde had just allowed a touch from her. Nothing but soft brushes with her fingertips, and a small racking of her hand through blonde hair, but that Cara hadn't even flinched as she leaned closer wasn't something that Kahlan would consider of little importance. It looked like the bad experiences of the past weeks - and especially what Kahlan did to Cara in the clearing - had never happened and they were joking carefree like they once used to do. Kahlan was suddenly reminded of how much she had missed just being in Cara’s company; the both of them free to be themselves and simply enjoy the small time together. But that longing to be completely free, lowering their defenses and allowing a true contact was always lingering into Kahlan.
The Confessor had barely touched Cara, but even that small sip was fueling her thirst. Heat was simmering into her and her fingers already prickled to fully tangle in blonde hair and run across silken skin, but she knew better to keep her hands off Cara. Or keep her lips apart from Cara’s unless the other woman made clear that such contact was granted. How ludicrous it felt to think of such a thing now! Cara would let her that close again in the day the sky would reverse its place with the sea. And if that day would ever come then Kahlan knew that she'd be able to fly in the sea and walk on the surface of the sky out of her mere happiness. But this all was foolish nonsense. Cara was out of her reach now and the first she'd become accustomed with it, the better.
Sure, but the memory of that consuming last kiss burned like fire in Kahlan's mind and body. Try as she might to feel ashamed of taking advantage of Cara at that moment, she couldn't deny how arousing it was kissing Cara that hungry feral way. To hold her possessively and to play in balance between eagerly giving and rudely taking; a game that Kahlan was sure Cara was well versed with and had probably appreciated in the years of her Mord-Sith’s career. Maybe it was just habit that made her play that game at that moment when she had indubitably returned Kahlan’s kiss. Maybe…
“So do you hear me better now?" She asked, blinking away her perilous wonderings.
Cara nodded but her expression was musing. She held the pillow and pressed it against her good ear, then looked at Kahlan prompting her to speak again.
"What about now?" Kahlan tested speaking low. Cara concentrated with furrowing eyebrows. Her lips curled downward and she slightly tipped her head to Kahlan who repeated a bit louder. Cara just pressed the pillow against her ear harder and her frown deepened. All the mirth evaporated in a moment.
“Your ear… it doesn’t…?” Kahlan failed to say it aloud, but Cara slightly shook her head to confirm that she was deaf on the harmed side.
Kahlan’s hand instantly ran to Cara’s wrist and she tenderly squeezed. “I’m so sorry Cara…” The other woman wrenched her arm from the grip and turned her head around; clear-cut lines running across her forehead. “It may not be definitive. It may recover with time…”
Cara’s eyes stayed averted; her lips obstinately pinched. Cold dropped on them and suddenly Kahlan didn’t know how to act. Too late she recognized how piteous and pointless her words had just been; Cara was a proud Mord-Sith, used to torture and pain. She didn’t want pity or consolation. She didn’t need a sniveling Kahlan to give her false hopes or remind her that in battle there were often losses that couldn’t be fixed. She needed time and space to work out on her own and Kahlan slowly dragged her hand away and stayed silent. She pondered for a moment whether leaving, but found herself incapable of getting far from Cara now. Soon she’d move, but now it was too early, they’d barely traded some words and she didn’t want Cara to be alone now despite the awkwardness being heavy and Cara’s gaze obstinately held apart. She was probably wishing to be on her own or at least that she had something to draw the attention on something else other than her misfortunes.
She was clenching her fists and staring at them; Kahlan immediately guessed what kind of solace she was longing.
“Your Agiels are in a safe and locked spot here. I had to ensure that no one would accidentally get hurt. And you can’t touch them now, you’re too weak.”
The last word made Cara’s nose scrunch and her look was a mixture of nervous and anger; two deep vertical lines were now cut through her forehead, restoring that typical Mord-Sith’s stern mode. Maybe she felt that she had to compensate the lack of her weapons with sporting her Mord-Sith’s alertness. Cara started assessing the surrounding, obviously trying to figure where she was and probably trying to recall what had happened. When she caught sight of Eliza - who was uncomfortably leaning against the hinge of the door - her look became even more suspicious and she scowled deeper; her body stiffening under the covers.
“It’s okay Cara. She's Eliza. She and her husband Arthur... they are... friends." Kahlan touched on, unable to control the slight blush on her cheeks. "Trusted ones... We are in their home."
Cara's gaze switched from Eliza to Kahlan and then back on the young wife. That peculiar expression on the face of the hostess - a mixture of adoration and slight mortification for having been pushed aside from her Mistress, who clearly had eyes only for the blonde woman - spoke in lieu for whatever clumsy explanation from Kahlan. Cara's eyes narrowed to two thin slits and the Confessor bit her lower lip, knowing that she was caught. Nonetheless she was incapable of mentioning aloud the improper use of her powers with Cara for the time being. Instead she gave a huffy sign to Eliza dismissing her and the woman walked away with a bitter face that just reinforced Cara's supposition.
“We came here after the battle… It snowed most of the time since then, paths are impassable." Kahlan reassured her, but her true aim was diverting attention from her obvious fault. “We’re safe here and Stefan is-“
Cara’s deep frowning was suddenly broken and she jumped panicked on the pillows. Her eyes widening at the reference of her son.
"Everything’s fine, calm down.” Kahlan’s hands ran in spite of her and she held the blonde on her shoulders, leading her back to the mattress. Again Cara didn’t seem to mind that much about being touched from the other woman and again it surprised Kahlan. She almost expected her palms to burn with contact with Cara’s skin this time. But she withdrew her hold before the blonde could realize and complain. “He's fine. He’s in the living room with Arthur."
Cara looked skeptically at Kahlan and a retort was clearly lingering on the tip of her tongue, but still she didn't spill a word.
"He’s okay, I swear to you. Arthur is trusted and capable. Here we have nothing to be afraid of. I can call the boy here.” Kahlan proposed. “You surely want to see him and-"
Cara's eyes widened again and she shook her head decisively 'NO'. Panic spread on her now pinker cheeks and Kahlan wondered what it was the problem with the child now. But she decided not to press the Mord-Sith, who looked suddenly more tired.
A heavy silence enveloped them again and to Kahlan everything seemed surreal with the two of them close and acting civil despite the loads of outstanding things unspoken and heaving under the ceiling. Despite their last exchange having been all but civil. There was some sort of odd calm hanging over them now, although the tension was palpable. Probably there still hadn't been any outburst because Cara was exhausted and probably this calm was just being the quiet before the storm. Yet, although Cara’s pique was evident, it wasn’t crossing through the edge of anger apparently and the Mord-Sith wasn't one for hiding her anger; if she had something that irritated her, you could wager that she'd find a direct way to let you know that. Likely with the help of her Agiels. And to think better, not only had Cara still not lashed out at her, but she still hadn't spoken at all. Not a single word. The entire situation was absurd.
"Do you remember when I came back to you in that clearing?" The whispered question slipped out of Kahlan's mouth before she could actually think of what she was asking.
Cara's face returned blank and she remained in that sort of trance for a quantity of time that Kahlan couldn't gauge, maybe seconds maybe hours... She was sitting by Cara’s deaf side so maybe she had spoken too low and Cara hadn't heard her? Maybe Cara was trying to recall that moment? Or to forget it? Kahlan lacked the courage to ask again and Cara stayed mute for long moments. The tension grew higher and Kahlan felt taut as a bowstring; that prolonged stillness was more excruciating than yells and threats. When the blonde parted her lips - Kahlan's breath held and her beats impossibly hammering - a rush of coughing caught her and she tried to catch her breath, but the juddering of her chest just coupled with aching pangs of her multiple wounds and she was helpless.
Kahlan ran to help her to sit, but Cara waved her off before the Confessor could make contact. Kahlan recorded the dull thud of her heart being dented from Cara's brusque rejection, but that wasn't the moment for self-pity. She called Eliza - who immediately peeked out - and ordered her to bring fresh water. When the young wife came back with a pitcher and two glasses, Cara's onset had calmed into a murmured hacking. The Confessor filled a glass and glanced at Cara, unsure whether the blonde would accept it. It was a stupid idea; despite what had happened between them - namely Kahlan angrily attempting to confess Cara - it was nonsensical thinking that Cara may expect Kahlan handing her something harmful. Yet how could Kahlan expect Cara to trust her? Who could ever know how Cara would react to their new state?
Cara's thirsty gaze spoke for the blonde's willingness to accept the water; she loudly swallowed in anticipation with a noticeable bob of her throat knob and the Confessor warned her to drink only few sips and slowly, or it would make her throw up. Cara paid no attention to the recommendation and as Kahlan handed the glass close to her lips, she gulped down greedily. Kahlan took the water away and the Mord-Sith coughed again and protested with a coarse grunt. Kahlan felt moved and granted her another small sip of the liquid relief. It was an odd situation in which Kahlan felt in subjection of Cara’s judgment, but still she had the upper hand on the physically impaired blonde and was somewhat the one leading the situation between the two of them.
After drinking Cara seemed to relax a bit and sank down on the pillows, her weakness painfully obvious now. The features of her face telling of her exhaustion with dark circles cut through under her eyes and a crown of wildly tousled golden mane framing the sharp ridge of her cheekbones, jutting out more noticeably than usual. Kahlan's question seemed momentarily forgotten and the tension washed away from tiredness.
The rational and opportunist part of Kahlan thought that it was regard for Cara's condition, if she didn't ask again. But the honest - and bigger - part of her knew better that it was cowardice what took over her and made her drop the topic for the time being. No doubt that Cara would get back on track to claim her toll of wrath against the treacherous Confessor as soon as forces would allow her.
Kahlan couldn't still stand the guilt for what she had done. She'd probably never stand it, but facing Cara on this issue was her worst nightmare. One she knew would swallow her sooner than later. But she wasn't prepared now, having slept too little and being still confused with the joy for seeing Cara finally awake and in her right mind. She needed more time to think of what she may say, although she already knew it wasn't a matter of time for finding the right words. There just weren't words neither right nor wrong. There weren't words at all to say, to explain, to excuse, to admit or confess. There was just an infinite guilt with which Kahlan would never learn to live with.
"You should get some rest." She piteously offered, suddenly feeling tired as much as Cara. “We'd better stop talking now.”
"For my own sake or yours?" Cara retorted crossly.
Hearing the sound of a raspy voice that had waited thus far to echo, Kahlan gasped and her heart sank somewhere deep down in her belly. Her face instantly burned hotter than the sun and she knew she was sporting an uncharacteristic crimson on her cheeks. But Cara wasn't seeing this all. She had already closed her eyes and dozed off with exhaustion.
Leaving Kahlan to deal with her doubts and fears.