FIC: THUNDER ONLY HAPPENS WHEN IT'S RAINING (33/?)
Title: 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: 5456
A/N: This is my very first writing work and for this reason my style and my skill with english will change as the chapters go by (hopefully improving...)
I consider this fic as my personal version of season 3 and it is entirely based on the TV Show also because I haven't read the books. The title of the fic and of the chapters are all titles or verses taken from songs of my favorite band The Corrs.
I am posting this story also on Fanfiction.net (username zagadka4); my aim is to catch up here and then proceed at the same pace on both sites.
Chapter 33 - Beautiful boy
(Verse from the song “Miracle”)
The two women didn’t waste time and jumped to attack the couple of soldiers after ensuring there weren’t any others arriving. Cara at last had the opportunity to slam a little of her tenseness against the poor man she aimed at, who lost consciousness within few moments. Kahlan instead blocked the sword of the other man with a dagger and sent her hand to his throat to pour out on him her inescapable confession.
After hearing him begging for command, Kahlan ordered the submitted man to drag his passed out companion away from that spot and put distance between them and the passage they had just crossed. Once settled in a nook far enough, Kahlan started interrogating the enslaved man asking him about the place where he had just exited from.
Lagan - this was his name - explained that he came from the Concealed Fort a place Darken Rahl created with the help of his sorcerer Giller some years ago to hide a child. The baby was taken there when he was few months old and had lived there since that day, without ever getting out of that place. Now the boy was more or less five years old and during this long period Lagan had always served under Lord Rahl at the Concealed Fort. The people designate there, couldn’t leave the place for any reason. They were only allowed to exit from it to provide supplies and patrol the surroundings, like Lagan and his comrade Clyde were about to do minutes ago.
In the Fort nobody knew who exactly this child was, but everybody suspected that he was the son of some very important rebel noble or king, held as hostage to keep Master Rahl’s foe in check. Darken gave instructions that the boy had to be held there and kept alive and in full health. Nobody had to know about his existence excluding the people of the Fort, which consisted of sixty soldiers, a general, two commanders, plus a healer and a nursemaid.
Kahlan inquired more about the safety measures of that place and the eager confessed man replied that the headquarter was invisible and inaccessible to whoever; there was one only way to enter and that was by the means of a magic seal which had to be placed against the ‘S’ pressed on the trunk of the oak. The soldier showed a ring he was wearing on his middle finger, upon which the same letter was pictured.
“What does ‘S’ mean?” Kahlan asked.
“I don’t know it for sure Confessor.” Lagan answered hesitantly. “Lord Rahl ordered his sorcerer to print that letter on the trunk and on the seals.” Kahlan nodded thoughtfully. “But everyone in the Fort thinks it’s because of the child.” He resumed, striving to make a point to please his Mistress. “His name is Stefan.”
Cara couldn’t refrain from wincing and sharply breathing in. After all those years of hopeless wondering, she had come to know his name in this nonchalant way, almost accidental. Kahlan threw her a comprehending glance and wished she could squeeze the blonde’s hand, but quit the idea, since Cara had clearly told her that she preferred to avoid physical contact between them.
The Confessor focused again on the interrogation and asked further about how to enter in the secluded place. Lagan explained that without a seal there was absolutely no way to get in: the people outside the concealed area couldn’t see or hear the inside of it and vice versa. Moreover once passed under the oak with the seal, there wasn’t any possibility of going unnoticed because the passage was just over against the thick wooden gates constantly guarded by four sentinels, who had warning bells and horns always at hand.
The Fort was entirely encircled by high wooden walls; the inside was pretty wide and containing some buildings. Most of those were destined for the soldiers’ lodges and mess, whereas two other buildings guested one the residence of the General and his headquarters, and the other was assigned to Stefan, the healer and the old nursemaid taking care of the child. Finally a separated smaller building was dedicated to the Lord Rahl’s chambers and office; he sojourned there during the extremely rare times he came to see the boy.
Lord Rahl occasionally went to the hidden place, but never met the child directly; he only scrutinized the boy from the distance. This didn’t mean that he had little interest in the kid, rather he asked constantly about him and foremost about his health and conditions. Whoever should provoke the slightest hurt to Stefan was punishable with death. Darken had also left a journey book in the Concealed Fort through which he regularly exchanged information about the boy with the General. So far the news about the kid had always been good and he had always thrived wonderfully; this child was full of life and as strong as a bullock!
Kahlan smiled warmly at this last statement and thought tenderly of Cara, who was probably living a whirl of emotions, learning so many things all in once about her little one after years of heavy somber silence.
By the way - Lagan kept on reporting - Stefan had recently gotten ill without any apparent reason and had seemed on the brink of death. When he learned about this frightening news via journey book, Master Rahl came immediately to the Fort escorted by some Mord-Sith and a woman dressed in red veils to inspect the little sick one. After a brief stay they all left and returned in a week with a hooded Sister of the Agiel held prisoner. In the following days the woman in red veils administered to the child a cure which worked fine and helped the little one to recover after the deadly danger. The Master of D’Hara and his entourage - captive Mord-Sith included - left the hidden place, where the boy was again committed to the care of the nursemaid and the healer. In the matter of some more days Stefan healed completely and returned the scamp full of life he had always been.
Cara gritted her teeth and flared her nostrils remembering very well the dark days of her captivity, when she had been kept constantly blindfolded and unconscious most of the time, except for the periods in which she was painfully drained of her blood and revived to start the process again.
After listening to the confessed guard, the two women made a board, discussing about the better way to enter in the guarded place and take the boy away. An incursion by surprise was impossible because of the sentinels: even if they tried to kill them immediately, much probably at least one of them would cry havoc and the whole mission would be over in a matter of seconds. Sixty soldiers in an unknown battle ground were too much, even for two exceptional warriors like them and the stakes were too high.
Therefore the blonde and the brunette for once agreed that it was better to enter putting on a show and pretending they were sent by Rahl. Also this idea was difficult to realize - Lagan warned them - since Darken had always been extremely wary in sending whoever to the Fort and granting them entrance exclusively by personally providing a seal ring. The tyrant had also always been pretty scrupulous in updating General Spancill via journey book, about arriving visitors.
However - the young man added - after Master Rahl’s death occurred the previous year, things turned complicated and for some months there was a great confusion in the Fort. Many soldiers were looking forward to being released from the confining task if there wasn’t a Lord to be served any longer. But General Spancill received the visit from his Master - in the form of a spirit - who told him to hold on in the regency of the garrison, because he'd be soon back to life and would need the kid. Indeed the D’Haran Lord actually returned walking among the mortals, but in a precarious condition and the communications with his General turned by force less accurate. This deed wasn't however a guaranty of an easy overstepping the threshold of the Fort, because the high ranked man was renowned for his suspiciousness.
Lagan tried to gain the praise of his new mistress revealing that in the past months the boy had relentlessly asked for a teacher. He had harassed the General so much that the man had finally surrendered to ask Rahl to fulfill the kid’s request. This little smart boy knew very well that nobody could touch him, therefore usually leveraged on this fact to torment people with his pretensions. Stefan was an obstinate boy, the confessed soldier pointed out, and pretty demanding when he wanted something.
Kahlan chewed her cheek to restrain a chuckle, thinking that this child apparently resembled his mother under this side; she was looking forward to see the little rascal. Instead Cara frowned, figuring a pile of child-shaped troubles gathering on her horizon. Cara rubbed her forehead and inquired further about comings and goings in that secluded fortress.
“As I told you, usually there aren’t many visitors here. The secrecy is a primal requirement to keep the Fort hidden.” Lagan stated. “Currently I’m not concerned about anyone on arrival. Except for what I said: the General has sent request for a teacher, but Lord Rahl hasn’t still replied to it.”
“Does Rahl usually send Mord-Sith here?” Cara asked with an unreadable but seemingly tired expression.
“Sometimes, but not often.” He promptly answered. “There is always tension when Mord-Sith are here.”
“Why?” The blonde raised her eyebrow.
“General Spancill doesn’t trust Mord-Sith very much.” The young man replied. Cara nodded seriously, folding her arms around her chest with a musing expression. The young man added: “And Stefan hates them.”
Mmmh excellent kick-off Cara thought, rolling her eyes and figuring the pile of troubles growing bigger and bigger.
The sun was about to set when Cara pressed her ringed finger against the oak’s truck. The letter ‘S’ glowed a bit then the ground between the contorted roots shook and fell below, revealing a descending stair. The Mord-Sith had previously taken Lagan’s ring and then released him and his companion Clyde - who was awoken and duly confessed as well - so that the two soldiers could come back to the base using Clyde’s seal without anyone suspecting something was going on. The confessed allies would be helpful for the two women’s mission from behind the enemy’s lines.
Both Mord-Sith and Confessor went down the stairs into the darkness, but immediately after passing through under the tree’s roots, the stairs returned up and the ladies emerged from the ground finding themselves under the same sky which hanged upon them moments before. There was a wide levelled area sprawling in front of them and encircled by the trees; a huge thick wooden Fort towered just at the center of said area. The forest around that space was visible but looked like it was covered by a curtain of thin light blue mist; it somehow reminded you of the Boundary, though this faint drape was just a pale imitation of that massive barrier. The whole location was magically hidden and unapproachable if not by the passage through the oak, which shadow adumbrated Cara and Kahlan. Upon the cortex and on the opposed side to where they had planted the seal, another and identical letter ‘S’ was printed; the side of the tree from where the women had entered was now wrapped in the light blue mist and unreachable.
Cara and Kahlan exchanged a brief glance and deeply breathed in, about to enter into the Concealed Fort.
The four sentinels outside from the wooden gates stared at them and one brusquely inquired to the women:
“Who are you? Introduce yourself!” The red and black armored man ordered with loud and steely voice.
Cara and Kahlan had formerly made the arrangement to feign that Cara was a Mord-Sith sent from Rahl to escort Kahlan, the teacher Stefan had insistently asked for. Therefore the blonde had to speak, whereas the Confessor had to remain silent and submissive.
“I guess you can see even by yourself that I’m clearly a Mord-Sith.” Cara retorted with the arrogant tone typical of the Sisterhood of the Agiel. The man narrowed his eyes and grunted.
“Lord Rahl has sent me here on request of General Spancill to bring this teacher to the Concealed Fort.” The blonde resumed with steady voice, pointing her eyes to the woman behind her.
She proudly lifted her chin and raised a hand to show off the ring she took from Lagan, purposing to reassure the guard that she was an expected presence. The other red-gloved hand was holding a rope which kept Kahlan’s wrists tied. Cara - like most of the Mord-Sith and for more than one reason - was experienced with knots and what she had made was a fake one; Kahlan just needed to stretch her arms to loosen the nooses around her wrists and easily set her hands free. But apparently she looked perfectly bound up.
The sentinel didn’t relax and took a step forward to inspect these two intruders. He scrutinized them very carefully, sharpening his eyes and humming suspiciously. Cara stood unmoving and leaving him to pace around them without complaints.
“The General didn’t warn us you were waited. Show me your permit.” The man abruptly barked.
Cara winced inwardly. That imbecile Lagan hadn’t said any word about permits. The blonde felt a slight tremble coming from the rope she was now gripping more tightly.
“Your General’s attitude in updating subjects is none of my concern. Master Rahl ordered me via journey book to bring here this woman. I have no written permit.” The Mord-Sith declared with impassivity in her face.
The guard stopped in front of her resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was a chunky man, Cara observed, and the other three fellows a few steps back were just as much burly. All of them were well equipped with weapons; bells and horns were dangling in plain sight from their thick studded leather armors. The odds were all against them, should a fight start here and now.
The sentinel stopped in front of Cara and planted his eyes on hers; the blonde upheld the stare with her usual coldness, slightly colored with the typical Mord-Sith’s presumption.
“If Master Rahl sent you here without you meeting him, how did he manage to give you a seal?”
Cara maintained her cold blood and forced her mind to grind faster and find a good lie to cheat this annoyingly zealous man.
“He had left the seal hidden in the Temple where I serve. He instructed me how to find it and ordered me here.”
The soldier looked still extremely distrustful and neared his face to Cara’s, his nose was almost touching hers; she could feel the reek of garlic coming from his maw. The blonde remained perfectly still conveying in her eyes the confidence she didn’t have. She had a solacing thought in her head, though a very meager one: if this man got the knack of the trick, there would be at least a bright side, to wit that she'd obtain a great good fight and would discharge herself from all the tenseness she had inside!
After a while the man rose up and Cara imperceptibly relaxed; if she was allowed of sighing in relief, she would. But as she eyed the man passing to examine Kahlan, Cara stiffened again and tightened the hold on the rope a little more. If that boor dared to touch the Confessor she'd kill him instantly, the Mord-Sith angrily devised. The sentinel was leaning on the brunette very close, but didn’t move a hand on her. She lowered her gaze and sagged her shoulders in a self-protective motion; her role now was the scared village teacher, not the proud Mother Confessor. Even if she would have gladly smashed the face of this ape and it would certainly have been pretty easy to do so, but she had to keep her nerves held out.
“I think I will attend your lessons too, little darling.” The man spoke with coarse unpleasant voice. “And soon you’ll have the privilege to learn one thing or two from me as well. There's a hardy teaching right here in my trousers waiting for you.” With that he broke in guffaws, followed by his comrades, who evidently had the same idea in their heads.
Cara clenched her jaw so much that her teeth creaked, but didn’t move. Fucking kinky man! Instead she snarled with her most threatening Mord-Sith’s tone:
“Open this damn gate! We’ve wasted enough time here.”
The man turned his head to her; the idiotic libidinous grin still plastered on his despicable face. “Maybe you wish to have a slice of the same cake Mord-Sith? My bed is large enough for you both.” And he stretched a hand toward the Confessor explicitly aiming to her cleavage.
Cara saw all red. She extracted her weapon in a flash and rushed to him, sending the Agiel less than an inch apart from the man’s throat. The sentinel froze in place with wide scared eyes, surprised that the woman in red-leathers was taking so seriously the task of safely escorting the teacher.
“I won’t repeat it again: open. this. gate.” Cara uttered spitting ice cubes from her mouth and glaring at him with scorching flames darting from her eyes. The sentinel hardly swallowed and went with trembling legs to the gate, opening the doors.
The two women silently stepped into the lion’s den.
Once inside the gates, the sentinel called a soldier pacing the perimeter and ordered him to escort the two women to General Spancill’s headquarters. They crossed a large square open space and reached the stocky austere building at the south side of the compound.
There was a small group of soldiers guarding outside that building; the man who led the ladies applied to one of those guards and the two men mumbled for a brief while. The sentry stared at Cara and Kahlan for some moments, slightly nodding to his comrade then he gestured to the Mord-Sith, confirming that she could pass inside and reach the superior’s office. As Cara started to move he grabbed the rope holding Kahlan. Sea-green eyes pinned the man on the spot.
“I have orders. She must follow me.” Cara roared. The guard didn’t hesitate and kept his hold on the rope.
“And I have orders as well. You are the only one allowed in. Your prisoner will wait for you here.”
Kahlan - who was keeping her head bowed coherently with her role - lifted her face a little and sent the briefest blue shot to Cara, suggesting her to go on and leave her outside. They couldn’t afford drawing further attention. The blonde caught the subtle message and imperceptibly nodded dropping the rope. After all the improving of their mute language in the past weeks was something useful, Kahlan had to reluctantly admit.
“Master Rahl gave precise instructions of not harming her. If you dare to touch even a single hair of her head, you’ll face the consequences with me.” The Mord-Sith warned, mustering all the threatening manners she had. But despite her apparent boldness, she felt a clutch gripping her stomach at the thought of parting from Kahlan in such a potentially dangerous situation. Anyway the man nodded with a glimpse of terror in his eyes and this fact gave Cara the slightest relief, since it was clear that the soldier wasn’t at all eager to engage a fight with the woman in red leathers.
Cara entered in General Spancill’s office, where the man was standing. He was a brown haired man around forty five years old, with a thick couple of mustaches. He was tall and slightly filled out, probably by the sedentary task he was carrying out, the alerted Mord-Sith reasoned. He was wearing the Dragon Corps uniform and scanned the new visitor with his forehead all striped by deep wrinkles. Evidently he was used to frowning and this attitude had left a permanent mark in his features.
“I wasn’t waiting for any visitor. Lord Rahl didn't write me anything about your arrival.” He asked with a baritone assertive voice.
Cara lifted her chin and upheld the tone. “Lord Rahl is constantly traveling and is busy with his plans to reconquer D’Hara. He has little time and cannot afford the luxury to fulfill every task which needs his attention. He’s focused on his priorities.” She imagined this could be true, but also knew from Lagan that Darken was extremely scrupulous about anything concerning the Concealed Fort. Indeed the General replied bothered:
“Master Rahl never lacks of informing me. The Concealed Fort is one of his priorities.”
Arrogant fucker the blonde inwardly replied at the stupid conceit of this man. It just gave her the chance to make her lie more credible. “Certainly our Lord cares for this place more than we can imagine. But we both know that he has lacked to send some communications recently.”
“And who tells me that you aren't an impostor? Or a traitor?”
“Relax General.” She played him down with a cheeky smirk. “Nervousness will fray your health if you're always on qui vive.”
“My health is none of your concern and you haven't answered.” The man drily shot. Her attempt to make him easier or divert him from his probings had failed; this man was hard bitten. So Cara pointed her palm to the man to explain that her intentions weren't offensive, then she warily extracted her Agiel from the holster.
“Look General, this is a weapon only a true Mord-Sith could handle so easily despite the pain it supplies. Do you hear the hum of its power, don't you? Or maybe you prefer me to touch you with this to prove that it's a true Agiel?” She slightly swayed the object in her hand with a defiant look.
“Keep that damn stick off of me!” The General thundered. “Rather put it back on your belt. Okay, you are effectively Mord-Sith but still I have no guaranty that you're trusted.”
“As you can see I’ve brought the teacher you asked for. How could I know about such a request if not from the mouth of Lord Rahl? And I have the seal only our Master could have provided to give me. You have no reasons to doubt my loyalty.”
Spancill scowled and paced around the desk, coming closer to the woman.
“What’s your name Mord-Sith?” He roughly asked, pronouncing her title in a haughty way, which made clear his disbelief in the Sisterhood of the Agiel.
“I’m Mistress Bridget.” She replied flatly, casting out the first name occurred to her mind.
“I’ve never heard about you Mistress Bridget. Where do you serve?” He was leading an out-and-out interrogatory; Cara decided to cut him some slack, at least for the moment.
“I served by the Moorlough Temple, but I wasn’t there when our Master warned me via journey book.” The cunning blonde perceived that the General was trying to find a weak link in her assertions to test her sincerity. Luckily Kahlan had updated her time ago that the Home Guard had patrolled several Temples recently and found them abandoned, included Moorlough. This was another point she could add to reinforce her put-on.
“And how was your search out there going?” He inquired canting on his hip and crossing his arms on the armored chest. He was digging deeper and his unnerving insistence had reached a territory where Cara was unprepared. She didn’t know where the missing women in red leathers were and what they were doing, but played another ace from her sleeves, leveraging on her former high ranked Mord-Sith’s knowledge.
“You know very well General, that Lord Rahl doesn’t allow his head in charge to discuss about their missions.” This was actually a habit Darken had: to keep his submitted in the dark of the whole plans. Knowledge is power, the tyrant often used to say. “I cannot update you and if you want to know more about mine and my sisters’ tasks, you’ll have to ask it directly to the Lord Rahl.”
“I think I could do so, Mistress Bridget!” The man replied with unnerved tone. “And I could ask him a little more details about your unannounced visit.” And he stepped back to his desk, staring at his journey book, well in sight on the top of it, with a quill and blood filled inkpot at hand.
The General didn’t trust Mord-Sith and much less he trusted this particularly disdainful red-clad woman. Master Rahl had recently warned him that a deserter blonde Sister of the Agiel could sneak inside the Fort and try to kidnap the child. Spancill was ordered to capture her, peremptorily leaving her alive until his Lord would come to personally collect her. Nonetheless this woman had nonchalantly come to the secret hideout and carelessly showed herself under the sunlight. She spoke things she couldn’t have known about, unless she actually was a trusted Rahl’s ally. And she had a seal. Master Rahl could have punished him hardly for pointlessly detaining one of his precious servants in red leathers in a moment in which every force was needed.
“If you want to bother our Lord with your silly curiosity and your pitiful fear of your own shadow, go ahead General. I’m pretty sure Master Rahl is looking forward to wasting his time in reassuring a wimp assistant.” Cara scoffed at him, idly fiddling about with her gloves.
Spancill gritted his teeth and jerked toward Cara, making his cloak flutter and narrowing his eyes so much that they turned into sparkling slits on his face.
“How long will you stay here Mistress Bridget?” He hissed.
“Only for this night. Lord Rahl ordered me to immediately rejoin my Sisters after bringing the woman here.” This declaration calmed the General; he could easily have the red-clad woman well-guarded for one night and escorted outside the walls the morning after. If she’d ever try to enter in the Fort again, he would have confirmation of his suspects and could order to have her imprisoned.
Reassured by his certainties, Spancill directed his mind to another and more intriguing thought. “Yes, the woman. Let’s see what you’ve brought here then.” With that he took wide strides toward the door, followed by an impassive Cara.
Once outside the building they found Kahlan and the fistful of guards quiet and in the same position the blonde had left them before. Once he was close enough to see her, General Spancill took a long and appraising look at the Confessor scanning her deeply from the tip of her feet to the top of her head, lingering his greedy eyes on the curves at waist and chest height. Then he neared to the brunette and forced her face up, seizing her chin and lifting it. Kahlan reacted on the spur of the moment, crinkling her nose in distaste and replying to Spancill’s look with a deep blue burning glare.
“This teacher seems to have a strong character.” The suspicious mustached man complained, making the brunette fear that the put-on was about to be unmasked by her unfitting proud attitude. But the General mischievously smiled and left Kahlan’s face. “Very well. That’s what is needed to stand that little demon’s ground.”
The high ranked man grabbed the ropes still holding Kahlan and took one of her hands.
“And she is also exceptionally fascinating.” He added with slippery voice, licking his lips and bringing the pale extremity to his mouth, slightly kissing Kahlan there. That should have been a gallant gesture, but to the contrary it badly hid his clear intention of bringing the teacher in his bed as soon as possible.
Cara grunted lowly, whereas the Confessor swallowed back her disgust and faked embarrassment. As far as it seemed the pleasing Kahlan’s appearance was working better than any well prepared lie. All of a sudden the General looked more than glad to guest the new arrived woman in his realm, without further questioning. Cara thought again about what is said about men and their lacking of enough blood to make all their organs properly work at the same time.
“It seems that we can declare the old nursemaid Peggy Gordon retired.” Spancill called out and tilted his head to a guard, ordering him to immediately bring there the old woman. Then he grabbed unceremoniously Kahlan’s arm and tossed her toward Cara, blurting to the Mord-Sith “Untie her!”
Kahlan stumbled and suddenly found herself into Cara's arms. Both their heartbeats picked up a frantic race, but much as Cara wanted to keep the other woman safe within her embrace, she however needed to play the role of the harsh Mord-Sith. So she roughly put Kahlan back upright and grunted some curses. In the maneuver she managed to warily took some steps away from the troopers and dragging Kahlan with her. They both exchanged expressive relieved glances. It felt incredibly soothing for Cara to have the chance of placing her hands on Kahlan’s, even if they had been apart for not more than ten minutes. It made her more noticeably realize how much she was addicted to the brunette. And Kahlan was feeling exactly the same, incapable of refraining small smiles toward the blonde, who was deliberately slowing the untying job.
A bustle coming from the open space in the center of the compound drew their attention and they saw a soldier dragging around a thin gray-haired woman more or less sixty years old. She had the most wrinkled narrow face Cara had ever seen; the blonde thought that she was the spitting image of a goat. A waist-height tall boy was clasped to the leg of the old woman. He was the child they had been searching for in the past months. The boy upon whose little shoulders the destiny of the world depended. Cara and Darken’s son.
He was Stefan.
Kahlan widened her eyes and hissed at the sight of the kid… he resembled Cara like a water drop!
He had the same golden blonde slightly wavy hair, a straight nose and a high proud forehead. His cheeks were still child-like plump, but the Confessor guessed high cheekbones hiding under that softness. His mouth was perfectly shaped exactly like his mother’s - even if the boy’s lips were less full - and his chin had the exact same firm pointed shape of Cara’s. Only his eyes were different, because he had his father's clear blue orbs instead of sea-green ones. He was the most beautiful boy the Confessor had ever seen.
Kahlan feared that the D’Harans gathered there would guess Cara’s kinship with the child, given their incredible resemblance, but unexpectedly nobody seemed to notice it. Evidently all the people in that place avoided looking at the Mord-Sith in her face, afraid of meeting that menacing sea-green gaze and likely also taking care of keeping an eye to her Agiel. And - given the huge male sexual frustration breathable in that place - Kahlan was betting that the men preferred to enjoy staring at her tightly leathers-wrapped body, rather than admiring her startling beautiful face.
At the sight of the boy Cara’s breath was caught in her throat as well, but she made a definitely better job than the Confessor’s in maintaining her face detached. Despite her supposed impassiveness, there was a revolution of guts going on inside of her. A hurricane of emotions she wasn’t prepared to deal with, stormed over her and she hardly acknowledged them, as they coursed over her one after the other at light speed. Pride, joy, shame, regret, grudge, fear, affection, hatred, sadness, remorse, hope, apprehension… and so much more than this, all tangled together in a sheer avalanche. She hardly swallowed this enormous pile of turmoil and made the over-human effort of focusing again on her task.
Amid the confusion of her feelings, there was only one thought distinctly echoing in Cara’s mind and helping her at staying concentrated: now that she had seen him, she'd never leave this place without her son.
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: 5456
A/N: This is my very first writing work and for this reason my style and my skill with english will change as the chapters go by (hopefully improving...)
I consider this fic as my personal version of season 3 and it is entirely based on the TV Show also because I haven't read the books. The title of the fic and of the chapters are all titles or verses taken from songs of my favorite band The Corrs.
I am posting this story also on Fanfiction.net (username zagadka4); my aim is to catch up here and then proceed at the same pace on both sites.
Chapter 33 - Beautiful boy
(Verse from the song “Miracle”)
The two women didn’t waste time and jumped to attack the couple of soldiers after ensuring there weren’t any others arriving. Cara at last had the opportunity to slam a little of her tenseness against the poor man she aimed at, who lost consciousness within few moments. Kahlan instead blocked the sword of the other man with a dagger and sent her hand to his throat to pour out on him her inescapable confession.
After hearing him begging for command, Kahlan ordered the submitted man to drag his passed out companion away from that spot and put distance between them and the passage they had just crossed. Once settled in a nook far enough, Kahlan started interrogating the enslaved man asking him about the place where he had just exited from.
Lagan - this was his name - explained that he came from the Concealed Fort a place Darken Rahl created with the help of his sorcerer Giller some years ago to hide a child. The baby was taken there when he was few months old and had lived there since that day, without ever getting out of that place. Now the boy was more or less five years old and during this long period Lagan had always served under Lord Rahl at the Concealed Fort. The people designate there, couldn’t leave the place for any reason. They were only allowed to exit from it to provide supplies and patrol the surroundings, like Lagan and his comrade Clyde were about to do minutes ago.
In the Fort nobody knew who exactly this child was, but everybody suspected that he was the son of some very important rebel noble or king, held as hostage to keep Master Rahl’s foe in check. Darken gave instructions that the boy had to be held there and kept alive and in full health. Nobody had to know about his existence excluding the people of the Fort, which consisted of sixty soldiers, a general, two commanders, plus a healer and a nursemaid.
Kahlan inquired more about the safety measures of that place and the eager confessed man replied that the headquarter was invisible and inaccessible to whoever; there was one only way to enter and that was by the means of a magic seal which had to be placed against the ‘S’ pressed on the trunk of the oak. The soldier showed a ring he was wearing on his middle finger, upon which the same letter was pictured.
“What does ‘S’ mean?” Kahlan asked.
“I don’t know it for sure Confessor.” Lagan answered hesitantly. “Lord Rahl ordered his sorcerer to print that letter on the trunk and on the seals.” Kahlan nodded thoughtfully. “But everyone in the Fort thinks it’s because of the child.” He resumed, striving to make a point to please his Mistress. “His name is Stefan.”
Cara couldn’t refrain from wincing and sharply breathing in. After all those years of hopeless wondering, she had come to know his name in this nonchalant way, almost accidental. Kahlan threw her a comprehending glance and wished she could squeeze the blonde’s hand, but quit the idea, since Cara had clearly told her that she preferred to avoid physical contact between them.
The Confessor focused again on the interrogation and asked further about how to enter in the secluded place. Lagan explained that without a seal there was absolutely no way to get in: the people outside the concealed area couldn’t see or hear the inside of it and vice versa. Moreover once passed under the oak with the seal, there wasn’t any possibility of going unnoticed because the passage was just over against the thick wooden gates constantly guarded by four sentinels, who had warning bells and horns always at hand.
The Fort was entirely encircled by high wooden walls; the inside was pretty wide and containing some buildings. Most of those were destined for the soldiers’ lodges and mess, whereas two other buildings guested one the residence of the General and his headquarters, and the other was assigned to Stefan, the healer and the old nursemaid taking care of the child. Finally a separated smaller building was dedicated to the Lord Rahl’s chambers and office; he sojourned there during the extremely rare times he came to see the boy.
Lord Rahl occasionally went to the hidden place, but never met the child directly; he only scrutinized the boy from the distance. This didn’t mean that he had little interest in the kid, rather he asked constantly about him and foremost about his health and conditions. Whoever should provoke the slightest hurt to Stefan was punishable with death. Darken had also left a journey book in the Concealed Fort through which he regularly exchanged information about the boy with the General. So far the news about the kid had always been good and he had always thrived wonderfully; this child was full of life and as strong as a bullock!
Kahlan smiled warmly at this last statement and thought tenderly of Cara, who was probably living a whirl of emotions, learning so many things all in once about her little one after years of heavy somber silence.
By the way - Lagan kept on reporting - Stefan had recently gotten ill without any apparent reason and had seemed on the brink of death. When he learned about this frightening news via journey book, Master Rahl came immediately to the Fort escorted by some Mord-Sith and a woman dressed in red veils to inspect the little sick one. After a brief stay they all left and returned in a week with a hooded Sister of the Agiel held prisoner. In the following days the woman in red veils administered to the child a cure which worked fine and helped the little one to recover after the deadly danger. The Master of D’Hara and his entourage - captive Mord-Sith included - left the hidden place, where the boy was again committed to the care of the nursemaid and the healer. In the matter of some more days Stefan healed completely and returned the scamp full of life he had always been.
Cara gritted her teeth and flared her nostrils remembering very well the dark days of her captivity, when she had been kept constantly blindfolded and unconscious most of the time, except for the periods in which she was painfully drained of her blood and revived to start the process again.
After listening to the confessed guard, the two women made a board, discussing about the better way to enter in the guarded place and take the boy away. An incursion by surprise was impossible because of the sentinels: even if they tried to kill them immediately, much probably at least one of them would cry havoc and the whole mission would be over in a matter of seconds. Sixty soldiers in an unknown battle ground were too much, even for two exceptional warriors like them and the stakes were too high.
Therefore the blonde and the brunette for once agreed that it was better to enter putting on a show and pretending they were sent by Rahl. Also this idea was difficult to realize - Lagan warned them - since Darken had always been extremely wary in sending whoever to the Fort and granting them entrance exclusively by personally providing a seal ring. The tyrant had also always been pretty scrupulous in updating General Spancill via journey book, about arriving visitors.
However - the young man added - after Master Rahl’s death occurred the previous year, things turned complicated and for some months there was a great confusion in the Fort. Many soldiers were looking forward to being released from the confining task if there wasn’t a Lord to be served any longer. But General Spancill received the visit from his Master - in the form of a spirit - who told him to hold on in the regency of the garrison, because he'd be soon back to life and would need the kid. Indeed the D’Haran Lord actually returned walking among the mortals, but in a precarious condition and the communications with his General turned by force less accurate. This deed wasn't however a guaranty of an easy overstepping the threshold of the Fort, because the high ranked man was renowned for his suspiciousness.
Lagan tried to gain the praise of his new mistress revealing that in the past months the boy had relentlessly asked for a teacher. He had harassed the General so much that the man had finally surrendered to ask Rahl to fulfill the kid’s request. This little smart boy knew very well that nobody could touch him, therefore usually leveraged on this fact to torment people with his pretensions. Stefan was an obstinate boy, the confessed soldier pointed out, and pretty demanding when he wanted something.
Kahlan chewed her cheek to restrain a chuckle, thinking that this child apparently resembled his mother under this side; she was looking forward to see the little rascal. Instead Cara frowned, figuring a pile of child-shaped troubles gathering on her horizon. Cara rubbed her forehead and inquired further about comings and goings in that secluded fortress.
“As I told you, usually there aren’t many visitors here. The secrecy is a primal requirement to keep the Fort hidden.” Lagan stated. “Currently I’m not concerned about anyone on arrival. Except for what I said: the General has sent request for a teacher, but Lord Rahl hasn’t still replied to it.”
“Does Rahl usually send Mord-Sith here?” Cara asked with an unreadable but seemingly tired expression.
“Sometimes, but not often.” He promptly answered. “There is always tension when Mord-Sith are here.”
“Why?” The blonde raised her eyebrow.
“General Spancill doesn’t trust Mord-Sith very much.” The young man replied. Cara nodded seriously, folding her arms around her chest with a musing expression. The young man added: “And Stefan hates them.”
Mmmh excellent kick-off Cara thought, rolling her eyes and figuring the pile of troubles growing bigger and bigger.
The sun was about to set when Cara pressed her ringed finger against the oak’s truck. The letter ‘S’ glowed a bit then the ground between the contorted roots shook and fell below, revealing a descending stair. The Mord-Sith had previously taken Lagan’s ring and then released him and his companion Clyde - who was awoken and duly confessed as well - so that the two soldiers could come back to the base using Clyde’s seal without anyone suspecting something was going on. The confessed allies would be helpful for the two women’s mission from behind the enemy’s lines.
Both Mord-Sith and Confessor went down the stairs into the darkness, but immediately after passing through under the tree’s roots, the stairs returned up and the ladies emerged from the ground finding themselves under the same sky which hanged upon them moments before. There was a wide levelled area sprawling in front of them and encircled by the trees; a huge thick wooden Fort towered just at the center of said area. The forest around that space was visible but looked like it was covered by a curtain of thin light blue mist; it somehow reminded you of the Boundary, though this faint drape was just a pale imitation of that massive barrier. The whole location was magically hidden and unapproachable if not by the passage through the oak, which shadow adumbrated Cara and Kahlan. Upon the cortex and on the opposed side to where they had planted the seal, another and identical letter ‘S’ was printed; the side of the tree from where the women had entered was now wrapped in the light blue mist and unreachable.
Cara and Kahlan exchanged a brief glance and deeply breathed in, about to enter into the Concealed Fort.
The four sentinels outside from the wooden gates stared at them and one brusquely inquired to the women:
“Who are you? Introduce yourself!” The red and black armored man ordered with loud and steely voice.
Cara and Kahlan had formerly made the arrangement to feign that Cara was a Mord-Sith sent from Rahl to escort Kahlan, the teacher Stefan had insistently asked for. Therefore the blonde had to speak, whereas the Confessor had to remain silent and submissive.
“I guess you can see even by yourself that I’m clearly a Mord-Sith.” Cara retorted with the arrogant tone typical of the Sisterhood of the Agiel. The man narrowed his eyes and grunted.
“Lord Rahl has sent me here on request of General Spancill to bring this teacher to the Concealed Fort.” The blonde resumed with steady voice, pointing her eyes to the woman behind her.
She proudly lifted her chin and raised a hand to show off the ring she took from Lagan, purposing to reassure the guard that she was an expected presence. The other red-gloved hand was holding a rope which kept Kahlan’s wrists tied. Cara - like most of the Mord-Sith and for more than one reason - was experienced with knots and what she had made was a fake one; Kahlan just needed to stretch her arms to loosen the nooses around her wrists and easily set her hands free. But apparently she looked perfectly bound up.
The sentinel didn’t relax and took a step forward to inspect these two intruders. He scrutinized them very carefully, sharpening his eyes and humming suspiciously. Cara stood unmoving and leaving him to pace around them without complaints.
“The General didn’t warn us you were waited. Show me your permit.” The man abruptly barked.
Cara winced inwardly. That imbecile Lagan hadn’t said any word about permits. The blonde felt a slight tremble coming from the rope she was now gripping more tightly.
“Your General’s attitude in updating subjects is none of my concern. Master Rahl ordered me via journey book to bring here this woman. I have no written permit.” The Mord-Sith declared with impassivity in her face.
The guard stopped in front of her resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was a chunky man, Cara observed, and the other three fellows a few steps back were just as much burly. All of them were well equipped with weapons; bells and horns were dangling in plain sight from their thick studded leather armors. The odds were all against them, should a fight start here and now.
The sentinel stopped in front of Cara and planted his eyes on hers; the blonde upheld the stare with her usual coldness, slightly colored with the typical Mord-Sith’s presumption.
“If Master Rahl sent you here without you meeting him, how did he manage to give you a seal?”
Cara maintained her cold blood and forced her mind to grind faster and find a good lie to cheat this annoyingly zealous man.
“He had left the seal hidden in the Temple where I serve. He instructed me how to find it and ordered me here.”
The soldier looked still extremely distrustful and neared his face to Cara’s, his nose was almost touching hers; she could feel the reek of garlic coming from his maw. The blonde remained perfectly still conveying in her eyes the confidence she didn’t have. She had a solacing thought in her head, though a very meager one: if this man got the knack of the trick, there would be at least a bright side, to wit that she'd obtain a great good fight and would discharge herself from all the tenseness she had inside!
After a while the man rose up and Cara imperceptibly relaxed; if she was allowed of sighing in relief, she would. But as she eyed the man passing to examine Kahlan, Cara stiffened again and tightened the hold on the rope a little more. If that boor dared to touch the Confessor she'd kill him instantly, the Mord-Sith angrily devised. The sentinel was leaning on the brunette very close, but didn’t move a hand on her. She lowered her gaze and sagged her shoulders in a self-protective motion; her role now was the scared village teacher, not the proud Mother Confessor. Even if she would have gladly smashed the face of this ape and it would certainly have been pretty easy to do so, but she had to keep her nerves held out.
“I think I will attend your lessons too, little darling.” The man spoke with coarse unpleasant voice. “And soon you’ll have the privilege to learn one thing or two from me as well. There's a hardy teaching right here in my trousers waiting for you.” With that he broke in guffaws, followed by his comrades, who evidently had the same idea in their heads.
Cara clenched her jaw so much that her teeth creaked, but didn’t move. Fucking kinky man! Instead she snarled with her most threatening Mord-Sith’s tone:
“Open this damn gate! We’ve wasted enough time here.”
The man turned his head to her; the idiotic libidinous grin still plastered on his despicable face. “Maybe you wish to have a slice of the same cake Mord-Sith? My bed is large enough for you both.” And he stretched a hand toward the Confessor explicitly aiming to her cleavage.
Cara saw all red. She extracted her weapon in a flash and rushed to him, sending the Agiel less than an inch apart from the man’s throat. The sentinel froze in place with wide scared eyes, surprised that the woman in red-leathers was taking so seriously the task of safely escorting the teacher.
“I won’t repeat it again: open. this. gate.” Cara uttered spitting ice cubes from her mouth and glaring at him with scorching flames darting from her eyes. The sentinel hardly swallowed and went with trembling legs to the gate, opening the doors.
The two women silently stepped into the lion’s den.
Once inside the gates, the sentinel called a soldier pacing the perimeter and ordered him to escort the two women to General Spancill’s headquarters. They crossed a large square open space and reached the stocky austere building at the south side of the compound.
There was a small group of soldiers guarding outside that building; the man who led the ladies applied to one of those guards and the two men mumbled for a brief while. The sentry stared at Cara and Kahlan for some moments, slightly nodding to his comrade then he gestured to the Mord-Sith, confirming that she could pass inside and reach the superior’s office. As Cara started to move he grabbed the rope holding Kahlan. Sea-green eyes pinned the man on the spot.
“I have orders. She must follow me.” Cara roared. The guard didn’t hesitate and kept his hold on the rope.
“And I have orders as well. You are the only one allowed in. Your prisoner will wait for you here.”
Kahlan - who was keeping her head bowed coherently with her role - lifted her face a little and sent the briefest blue shot to Cara, suggesting her to go on and leave her outside. They couldn’t afford drawing further attention. The blonde caught the subtle message and imperceptibly nodded dropping the rope. After all the improving of their mute language in the past weeks was something useful, Kahlan had to reluctantly admit.
“Master Rahl gave precise instructions of not harming her. If you dare to touch even a single hair of her head, you’ll face the consequences with me.” The Mord-Sith warned, mustering all the threatening manners she had. But despite her apparent boldness, she felt a clutch gripping her stomach at the thought of parting from Kahlan in such a potentially dangerous situation. Anyway the man nodded with a glimpse of terror in his eyes and this fact gave Cara the slightest relief, since it was clear that the soldier wasn’t at all eager to engage a fight with the woman in red leathers.
Cara entered in General Spancill’s office, where the man was standing. He was a brown haired man around forty five years old, with a thick couple of mustaches. He was tall and slightly filled out, probably by the sedentary task he was carrying out, the alerted Mord-Sith reasoned. He was wearing the Dragon Corps uniform and scanned the new visitor with his forehead all striped by deep wrinkles. Evidently he was used to frowning and this attitude had left a permanent mark in his features.
“I wasn’t waiting for any visitor. Lord Rahl didn't write me anything about your arrival.” He asked with a baritone assertive voice.
Cara lifted her chin and upheld the tone. “Lord Rahl is constantly traveling and is busy with his plans to reconquer D’Hara. He has little time and cannot afford the luxury to fulfill every task which needs his attention. He’s focused on his priorities.” She imagined this could be true, but also knew from Lagan that Darken was extremely scrupulous about anything concerning the Concealed Fort. Indeed the General replied bothered:
“Master Rahl never lacks of informing me. The Concealed Fort is one of his priorities.”
Arrogant fucker the blonde inwardly replied at the stupid conceit of this man. It just gave her the chance to make her lie more credible. “Certainly our Lord cares for this place more than we can imagine. But we both know that he has lacked to send some communications recently.”
“And who tells me that you aren't an impostor? Or a traitor?”
“Relax General.” She played him down with a cheeky smirk. “Nervousness will fray your health if you're always on qui vive.”
“My health is none of your concern and you haven't answered.” The man drily shot. Her attempt to make him easier or divert him from his probings had failed; this man was hard bitten. So Cara pointed her palm to the man to explain that her intentions weren't offensive, then she warily extracted her Agiel from the holster.
“Look General, this is a weapon only a true Mord-Sith could handle so easily despite the pain it supplies. Do you hear the hum of its power, don't you? Or maybe you prefer me to touch you with this to prove that it's a true Agiel?” She slightly swayed the object in her hand with a defiant look.
“Keep that damn stick off of me!” The General thundered. “Rather put it back on your belt. Okay, you are effectively Mord-Sith but still I have no guaranty that you're trusted.”
“As you can see I’ve brought the teacher you asked for. How could I know about such a request if not from the mouth of Lord Rahl? And I have the seal only our Master could have provided to give me. You have no reasons to doubt my loyalty.”
Spancill scowled and paced around the desk, coming closer to the woman.
“What’s your name Mord-Sith?” He roughly asked, pronouncing her title in a haughty way, which made clear his disbelief in the Sisterhood of the Agiel.
“I’m Mistress Bridget.” She replied flatly, casting out the first name occurred to her mind.
“I’ve never heard about you Mistress Bridget. Where do you serve?” He was leading an out-and-out interrogatory; Cara decided to cut him some slack, at least for the moment.
“I served by the Moorlough Temple, but I wasn’t there when our Master warned me via journey book.” The cunning blonde perceived that the General was trying to find a weak link in her assertions to test her sincerity. Luckily Kahlan had updated her time ago that the Home Guard had patrolled several Temples recently and found them abandoned, included Moorlough. This was another point she could add to reinforce her put-on.
“And how was your search out there going?” He inquired canting on his hip and crossing his arms on the armored chest. He was digging deeper and his unnerving insistence had reached a territory where Cara was unprepared. She didn’t know where the missing women in red leathers were and what they were doing, but played another ace from her sleeves, leveraging on her former high ranked Mord-Sith’s knowledge.
“You know very well General, that Lord Rahl doesn’t allow his head in charge to discuss about their missions.” This was actually a habit Darken had: to keep his submitted in the dark of the whole plans. Knowledge is power, the tyrant often used to say. “I cannot update you and if you want to know more about mine and my sisters’ tasks, you’ll have to ask it directly to the Lord Rahl.”
“I think I could do so, Mistress Bridget!” The man replied with unnerved tone. “And I could ask him a little more details about your unannounced visit.” And he stepped back to his desk, staring at his journey book, well in sight on the top of it, with a quill and blood filled inkpot at hand.
The General didn’t trust Mord-Sith and much less he trusted this particularly disdainful red-clad woman. Master Rahl had recently warned him that a deserter blonde Sister of the Agiel could sneak inside the Fort and try to kidnap the child. Spancill was ordered to capture her, peremptorily leaving her alive until his Lord would come to personally collect her. Nonetheless this woman had nonchalantly come to the secret hideout and carelessly showed herself under the sunlight. She spoke things she couldn’t have known about, unless she actually was a trusted Rahl’s ally. And she had a seal. Master Rahl could have punished him hardly for pointlessly detaining one of his precious servants in red leathers in a moment in which every force was needed.
“If you want to bother our Lord with your silly curiosity and your pitiful fear of your own shadow, go ahead General. I’m pretty sure Master Rahl is looking forward to wasting his time in reassuring a wimp assistant.” Cara scoffed at him, idly fiddling about with her gloves.
Spancill gritted his teeth and jerked toward Cara, making his cloak flutter and narrowing his eyes so much that they turned into sparkling slits on his face.
“How long will you stay here Mistress Bridget?” He hissed.
“Only for this night. Lord Rahl ordered me to immediately rejoin my Sisters after bringing the woman here.” This declaration calmed the General; he could easily have the red-clad woman well-guarded for one night and escorted outside the walls the morning after. If she’d ever try to enter in the Fort again, he would have confirmation of his suspects and could order to have her imprisoned.
Reassured by his certainties, Spancill directed his mind to another and more intriguing thought. “Yes, the woman. Let’s see what you’ve brought here then.” With that he took wide strides toward the door, followed by an impassive Cara.
Once outside the building they found Kahlan and the fistful of guards quiet and in the same position the blonde had left them before. Once he was close enough to see her, General Spancill took a long and appraising look at the Confessor scanning her deeply from the tip of her feet to the top of her head, lingering his greedy eyes on the curves at waist and chest height. Then he neared to the brunette and forced her face up, seizing her chin and lifting it. Kahlan reacted on the spur of the moment, crinkling her nose in distaste and replying to Spancill’s look with a deep blue burning glare.
“This teacher seems to have a strong character.” The suspicious mustached man complained, making the brunette fear that the put-on was about to be unmasked by her unfitting proud attitude. But the General mischievously smiled and left Kahlan’s face. “Very well. That’s what is needed to stand that little demon’s ground.”
The high ranked man grabbed the ropes still holding Kahlan and took one of her hands.
“And she is also exceptionally fascinating.” He added with slippery voice, licking his lips and bringing the pale extremity to his mouth, slightly kissing Kahlan there. That should have been a gallant gesture, but to the contrary it badly hid his clear intention of bringing the teacher in his bed as soon as possible.
Cara grunted lowly, whereas the Confessor swallowed back her disgust and faked embarrassment. As far as it seemed the pleasing Kahlan’s appearance was working better than any well prepared lie. All of a sudden the General looked more than glad to guest the new arrived woman in his realm, without further questioning. Cara thought again about what is said about men and their lacking of enough blood to make all their organs properly work at the same time.
“It seems that we can declare the old nursemaid Peggy Gordon retired.” Spancill called out and tilted his head to a guard, ordering him to immediately bring there the old woman. Then he grabbed unceremoniously Kahlan’s arm and tossed her toward Cara, blurting to the Mord-Sith “Untie her!”
Kahlan stumbled and suddenly found herself into Cara's arms. Both their heartbeats picked up a frantic race, but much as Cara wanted to keep the other woman safe within her embrace, she however needed to play the role of the harsh Mord-Sith. So she roughly put Kahlan back upright and grunted some curses. In the maneuver she managed to warily took some steps away from the troopers and dragging Kahlan with her. They both exchanged expressive relieved glances. It felt incredibly soothing for Cara to have the chance of placing her hands on Kahlan’s, even if they had been apart for not more than ten minutes. It made her more noticeably realize how much she was addicted to the brunette. And Kahlan was feeling exactly the same, incapable of refraining small smiles toward the blonde, who was deliberately slowing the untying job.
A bustle coming from the open space in the center of the compound drew their attention and they saw a soldier dragging around a thin gray-haired woman more or less sixty years old. She had the most wrinkled narrow face Cara had ever seen; the blonde thought that she was the spitting image of a goat. A waist-height tall boy was clasped to the leg of the old woman. He was the child they had been searching for in the past months. The boy upon whose little shoulders the destiny of the world depended. Cara and Darken’s son.
He was Stefan.
Kahlan widened her eyes and hissed at the sight of the kid… he resembled Cara like a water drop!
He had the same golden blonde slightly wavy hair, a straight nose and a high proud forehead. His cheeks were still child-like plump, but the Confessor guessed high cheekbones hiding under that softness. His mouth was perfectly shaped exactly like his mother’s - even if the boy’s lips were less full - and his chin had the exact same firm pointed shape of Cara’s. Only his eyes were different, because he had his father's clear blue orbs instead of sea-green ones. He was the most beautiful boy the Confessor had ever seen.
Kahlan feared that the D’Harans gathered there would guess Cara’s kinship with the child, given their incredible resemblance, but unexpectedly nobody seemed to notice it. Evidently all the people in that place avoided looking at the Mord-Sith in her face, afraid of meeting that menacing sea-green gaze and likely also taking care of keeping an eye to her Agiel. And - given the huge male sexual frustration breathable in that place - Kahlan was betting that the men preferred to enjoy staring at her tightly leathers-wrapped body, rather than admiring her startling beautiful face.
At the sight of the boy Cara’s breath was caught in her throat as well, but she made a definitely better job than the Confessor’s in maintaining her face detached. Despite her supposed impassiveness, there was a revolution of guts going on inside of her. A hurricane of emotions she wasn’t prepared to deal with, stormed over her and she hardly acknowledged them, as they coursed over her one after the other at light speed. Pride, joy, shame, regret, grudge, fear, affection, hatred, sadness, remorse, hope, apprehension… and so much more than this, all tangled together in a sheer avalanche. She hardly swallowed this enormous pile of turmoil and made the over-human effort of focusing again on her task.
Amid the confusion of her feelings, there was only one thought distinctly echoing in Cara’s mind and helping her at staying concentrated: now that she had seen him, she'd never leave this place without her son.