FIC: THUNDER ONLY HAPPENS WHEN IT'S RAINING (36/?)
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: 3876
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 36 - This boy is crackin’ up
(Verse from the song “Old Town”)
Under the pale light and a misty rain of the autumn evening, the threesome were riding at trotting pace as they had done in the past hours. Suddenly Stefan blurted that he was fucking tired, his ass was aching as hell, he was damn cold and wanted to find a shelter from that frigging rain!
“Who taught you to talk this way?!” A scandalized Kahlan asked to the child leaning in the saddle in front of her. When they left the village Stefan had insisted on riding with the brunette. He was acting extremely wary toward Cara and seemed to prefer the company of the other woman rather than the Mord-Sith.
“Peggy.” He replied without any hint of concern.
“Your nursemaid seemed to be a very kind and polite person. I’m doubtful she talked to you in this manner, much less she taught you to express this rough way.” Kahlan replied with her know-it-all Confessor tone. The child pondered a while then added nonchalantly:
“Maybe also some badass soldiers of the Fort.”
Kahlan sighed and frowned thinking that this boy hadn’t the opportunity to grow in a normal context and certainly needed several lessons on good manners. Cara did her best to hide the small chuckle escaping from her mouth, while quietly riding her horse beside the Confessor’s. As usual the Mord-Sith was amused by whatever was able to scandalize the brunette.
“I told you to stop this damn horse! I need to rest now, what the fuck!” Stefan complained louder, making the Confessor wince in astonishment for his very little courteous attitude. He really cursed like a sailor... and his temper resembled the same one of a certain Mord-Sith. Kahlan opened her mouth to talk, but Cara preceded her with a harsh voice.
“We cannot stop now, full stop! You have to hold your fucking aching ass and shut up.” Kahlan suddenly had the sharp-cut impression to be a cushion stuck between two blonde grumpy hedgehogs.
“Cara, avoid this behavior! You are of no help.” The Confessor seriously retorted. “And you Stefan listen to me: we need to go on a little longer until we find an adequate place for camping this night.” She calmly explained to the boy. “But we’ll stop in the first good spot we glimpse, all right?” She craned her neck to see whether the boy was satisfied with the arrangement. The little one looked at her with a pensive expression, then declared:
“I must pee. Now!”
Kahlan sighed defeated and glanced up to Cara who was wearing a truculent mask and glaring at the boy; he absolutely didn’t pay attention to the mute threat he was reached by, wearing some sort of an impassiveness mask which Kahlan knew very well.
.
Cara was holding the reins of the horses while Kahlan accompanied that little pest to hose the grass. The Mord-Sith was foreseeing a very long and very difficult travel with him. Their off-hand escape from the Concealed Fort wouldn’t certainly fall through the net and very likely Darken Rahl was already aware that his son was no longer within his clutches. Her former Master would send against them every resource he had to get the boy back, therefore the sooner they reached Aydindril, the better it was. Pee breaks permitting!
When they were at Peggy’s house the boy seemed definitely more docile than how he acted now. He cried a lot when he learned that he had to leave that place to follow Cara and Kahlan in the Midlands. The old nursemaid knew him very well and somehow succeeded in convincing him to go, since it was too dangerous for him to stay with her. The kid placed a huge quantity of questions about who had held him prisoner and why; he asked whether they knew who his parents were and many other things concerning him and his captivity. Kahlan took care of providing vague answers to him, since he seemed more at ease with the Confessor rather than with Cara, despite the good words the nanny had put for the Mord-Sith. Anyway the bigger blonde reassured the child that once in Aydindril, she would have left him in peace to follow her duties in D’Hara.
Stefan had a natural and enduring aversion to the Sisters of the Agiel. His experience with other Mord-Sith in the Fort weren’t positive: not one of them ever touched even one of his hairs, but the mute threats and the hatred glaring he received from them hurt and scared him the same. Their harsh words and disdainful comments drove him to despise them. The fearful tales told by the soldiers about the notorious cruelty and the disconcerting attitude at torturing typical of the red-clad warriors, brought Stefan to abhor them.
Before leaving her house the old goat took Cara aside and talked to her in private: the nursemaid told her that Stefan desperately needed a family, something he had always longed to have. The old woman assured her that mother and son would certainly achieve to get close to each other, but time and a little patience were needed. They had to overtake the mutual skepticism and recover the years they had lost. She enthusiastically described the boy as an exceptional, sweet and brave child. The gray-haired woman admitted that he was stubborn, sure, but also steadfast and insightful; he was curios and always wanted to know everything about everything. Cara pursed her lips in a frown: the last thing she needed by her side was another windbag other than the Mother Confessor. Peggy also explained that the child had a brilliant mind which needed to be fed; this was the reason for his frustration and constant excitement. The reason for which he may sometimes seem demanding. Cara just nodded, but spoke no word.
After several other recommendations about how to deal with Stefan the old woman unexpectedly hugged the Mord-Sith. “I’m so happy he has found his mother.” The old woman sobbed. “Take the greatest care of him.”
Cara patted awkwardly her gloved hand on the old back and replied hesitantly: “I will.” At least until I’ll have taken him to a safe place, she completed the sentence inwardly.
One of the horses slightly neighed and the blonde returned focusing on the present, noticing how the child’s pee seemed to be lasting very long. That little bladder couldn’t contain so much liquid. She tied the beasts to a tree and walked in the direction Kahlan took with the boy before, following their track.
After a while Cara saw in the distance the body of the Mother Confessor lying on the grass; the blonde gasped loudly and dashed toward Kahlan, her heartbeat immediately pounding hard in her chest. The blonde knelt over the other woman and felt a little relieved seeing that the Confessor had no visible wounds. Cara checked the pulse on her neck and her breathing. Everything seemed all right and Kahlan looked just peacefully and soundly dozed off.
“Kahlan wake up!” The Mord-Sith shook her gently, but the Confessor didn’t move.
“Confessor it’s not the right moment for snoozing!” Cara shook her more vigorously and Kahlan twisted a bit, giggling in her secret dreams and murmuring some unintelligible words, but didn’t give any other sign that she was about to wake.
Cara swiftly assessed the surroundings, at last remembering Stefan; he was nowhere to be seen. A waterskin was tossed open on the grass and another little glass bottle was left some paces away. The blonde recognized the small ampoule: it was the sedative potion the healer gave her the night before, telling her that it could be helpful to deal with the raffish boy.
That little pest managed to drug Kahlan and fled away! A small part of Cara’s mind couldn’t help but feel proud of this truly sharp boy, who tricked the Mother Confessor as if she was a simpleton. And Cara knew that Kahlan wasn’t a simpleton! Certainly the kid had found a way to leverage on the brunette’s tender heart. The other part of her mind was enraged with this unpredictable and unnerving child, who was promising to supply never endings hassles. Finally the bigger part of her mind was worried: despite all of his cleverness Stefan didn’t grasp the danger he could incur, strolling around the forest alone, whereas there was a ruthless bastard tyrant lurking somewhere and craving to catch him again and kill him.
.
While running, Stefan was still chuckling at the thought of that silly Kahlan who accepted the drugged water he handed to her, furthermore whole-heartedly thanking him for his kindness. Such a dumbass! Certainly the Mord-Sith wouldn’t have been so easy to hoodwink, but he managed to remain alone with the taller and easily duped woman. And now he would find his way back to Peggy’s house and rejoin with the old nanny. He was sure he could convince the nursemaid to keep him with her and they could live happily together.
He hadn’t the barest intention to follow those two women, who clearly saddled him with a pile of bullshit. Who did they think he was, a retarded sucker? He wasn’t! Saviors or not, the whole business had sounded dodgy to him since the first moment, as they gave him only vague and partial answers. The boy was largely doubtful about the Mord-Sith’s reliability and he had the certainty that also the other woman’s honesty was questionable, when he heard that morning the Mord-Sith calling the brunette by mistake ‘Confessor’. The taller lady had glared at the blonde woman as if the latter had just done something wrong and Stefan had immediately figured that they didn’t want him to know who this Kahlan truly was. Therefore the boy didn’t trust her despite the fact that she seemed extremely kind to him, surely kinder than the Mord-Sith! The soldiers of the Fort had told Stefan scary tales also about these Confessors and the horrible practice they pursued to enslave people to their will.
And those two swindler women wanted to bring him in the city of those enslaver Confessors?! No fucking way!
He was lost in his child wondering and didn’t notice a group of wanderers on his way ahead. When he realized the presence of the several and potentially dangerous men it was too late; they had seen him and were pointing at him. Stefan turned on his heels and began to rush in the opposite direction, but it was pointless, they were already chasing him a few steps behind his heels. The boy darted faster but his legs were definitely too short to have a chance of losing them. The fear began to grip his chilling tendrils on him and sweat started to pour down from his forehead both for the fright of what could happen to him if those men caught him, and for the effort of a long run.
Stefan screamed his anguish, asking help to whoever could listen to him and on his mind appeared the imagine of Peggy introducing him to that Mord-Sith, telling him she was his heroine, his guardian angel. Almost intimating him to never leave her side. For once in his life he regretted that he did things his own way, instead of following the advice he was given.
The boy gave a last sprint before his lungs got too burning and his legs too weakened to go on then he stumbled on the slick ground, defeated and too exhausted to keep on his getaway. He rolled himself into a ball with his face on the wet grass and eyes shut, expecting a rough hand grabbing him by the collar at any moment, but the grasp didn’t come. Instead a thundering female voice echoed just behind him.
“Leave this place immediately and maybe I’ll spare your miserable life.”
Stefan dared to lift his head and turn his neck around. He saw the blonde Mord-Sith covering him with her shadow, standing with her back to him. She was canted on her right hip with squared shoulders and fists planted on her flanks. That strong woman was facing a dozen of men without the barest hint of worry.
“Huh look at there!” One of the wanderers had the absurd idea to mock her. “Mommy hen came to save her little chick!”
All the other men around him began to guffaw. That derelict didn’t know how - under a certain point of view - these words were closer to the truth than what he'd expect; neither did Stefan. But instead Cara did. She gritted her teeth at the spoken insolence and firmly gripped her Agiels, feeling immediately coursed by the refreshing shock of pain which always made her feel alive.
In the matter of a moment the prowlers toppled on the red-clad woman. Before diving herself into the action the Mord-Sith briefly thought that in this area there was a definitely annoying lack of due dread toward the Sisterhood of the Agiel. Someone had to take upon herself with the task of teaching a little respect to the native people. Thus she began to generously bestow her lesson.
The Mord-Sith handled the fight in a never ending sequence of fluid relentless movements, with a strength and a velocity as Stefan had never seen before. Her blows were mighty and precise, her motion coordinated and flawless. The child was wonder-stricken by the amazing battle this extraordinary warrior was leading and he kept on staring at her with wide admired eyes, barely catching her light speed blows, until the last opponent fell on the ground unconscious.
Cara stood still for a moment to steady her short breath then abruptly turned to the boy. The fluttering of her braid and the darts of fire from her sea-green eyes left him out of breath, and he remained frozen looking at her walking in flash strides toward him. She knelt before the child and struck him with an even more intense deadly glare, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him violently.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” She screamed in his face. “I haven’t sweated my guts out to get you out of that fucking Fort to see you killed by the first band of scum that crosses your path!!”
He remained there gazing at her, incapable to utter any word. He was too shocked and still overwhelmed by the many emotions of the past two days, which he was still elaborating.
“Don’t you dare escape again, is that understood little jerk?!” Cara snarled and grabbed him tighter to the point that she hurt him. She neared her raging reddened face to his’. Their noses were almost touching and she was deeply scanning him to decipher whether the boy had clearly gotten the message.
He was still mute and wide eyed and his face began to slowly contort in a sad grimace; swollen tears started rolling down his full cheeks. He lowered his head sobbing in front of this startling woman, who he was still largely skeptical whether he could trust in.
Cara should have expected this, but the same she felt taken aback. She had made him cry…
She was undecided whether it was odder that having provoked those tears was making her feel shamefully guilty or that she'd rather slap herself to mend it, instead of slapping the pest for his insubordination. Cara also thought that if the Mother Confessor was there, she'd certainly harshly reprimand the blonde for her roughness toward a small kid. Well, Mord-Sith weren’t exactly prepared to deal with naughty disobedient children! Cara had just reacted in the only way she knew: a frontal attack. But why - in the name of the Creator! - was she justifying herself from the accuses of an imaginary Kahlan?! Cara briefly shut her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind.
“Don’t cry. Nobody hurt you.” She loosened her grip on Stefan and tentatively tried to make him more at ease, but her voice was definitely too harsh to sound comforting and he kept on whimpering, rubbing his hand against his face.
“Boys don’t cry.” She added, struggling to make her voice sound slightly softer and hoping to gain his attention. She was far from believing this last statement, since she had seen hundreds of men in tears under her hands, but this was the kind of things males use to tell to one another to boast themselves. Maybe Stefan might believe it? But he still seemed forlorn. She huffed for the awkwardness of this situation. The whining he was emitting was bothering her, even if not in the way things usually bothered her.
“If you stop crying I promise I’ll teach you a couple of tricks to beat a big strong man.” This was the last resource Cara had. And unexpectedly it worked.
“Really?” Round glistening clear blue eyes flashed her in full excitement. He really looked like a tender puppy. Cara couldn’t help but slightly smile at him. Has she just said ‘tender puppy’? The imaginary Kahlan chimed again giggling. Cara groaned wondering what kind of mess was going on in her head then focused back on the child.
“Sure. Even a midget like you could win with the help of my tips.” She added malice to her expression, to recompose her Mord-Sith’s demeanor.
“And you’ll let me try your weapons?” He asked tentatively gazing at Cara’s Agiels. “I haven’t still figured out how they work.” But the blonde immediately scowled the deepest possible and snapped at him:
“You must never, NEVER touch my Agiels, is that understood?”
“Why?”
“Because I say so!” She insisted angrily with a louder voice and leaving no room for further arguing.
The kid rolled his eyes and frowned with a face very similar to the one in front of him. But in the end he nodded silently, hushed by the Mord-Sith’s zeal. Then he resumed:
“But promise me you’ll teach me your tricks.” He exclaimed stretching his pinkie to her. Cara eyed at his finger perplexed then lifted her eyebrow and looked at him mutely questioning.
“Give me your little finger and say pinkie swear.” He explained. “The promises made in this way cannot be broken for any reason.” Cara curled her lips half amused and half annoyed, then linked her finger with her son’s.
“Pinkie swear.” She reluctantly conceded him the point. Stefan smiled satisfied then tried to withdraw his finger from Cara’s, but she held his little extremity in place.
“And you,” She astutely retorted “promise me you won’t escape anymore.” The blonde was challenging him on his play ground. He stared at her face slightly suspicious, recognizing her cleverness. She trapped him in a trick and forced him to grant her this victory. But now he felt somehow not so much disturbed by the idea of hanging around with this formidable warrior, though he mentally took note to be more careful not to incur in her outburst of anger. Fuck, she was truly frightening when she wanted!
“Pinkie swear.” He conceded. After she released his hand, the boy jumped on her neck and hugged her tight, smiling happily.
“Thank you Cara Mason for saving me… again!”
Cara felt even more awkward than before and remained stiff, knelt with this little one dangling from her neck. She really didn’t expect such a reaction from the distrustful boy and unconsciously sent a hand on his back, slightly patting him. She smelled again the sweet scent of his hair, which made her close her eyes for a heartbeat and rest her hand on his tiny back. The imaginary Kahlan was certainly giggling again now and would probably come back later to talk about feelings and other stuff like that, Cara inwardly sighed.
Suddenly he parted from her and added with a certain annoyance in his voice.
“I’m not a midget, anyway!”
Cara couldn’t help but sending him a toothy smile, amused by his offended tone. She stood up straightening her back and mutely showing the evidence of his minute height. Again he immediately caught her silent speech, but neither of the two paid attention at the unexpected perfect understanding between them.
“I mean, I’m big for my age!” He insisted looking upward toward Cara’s shining eyes, evidently searching her approval. She crossed her arms on her chest and kept on smiling at his funny being vain.
“Sure! As big as a pinkie.” She mocked him.
“I am big! I’m not a pinkie!” He protested, exposing his adorable childishly insulted frown.
“Well, now we’d better get a move Pinkie, before those guys here wake up and I change my mind and decide to send you with them.” She tilted her head toward the pile of lying men never dismissing her amused smile.
“I thought you had killed them all…” Stefan uttered shyly. He had been told about Mord-Sith’s attitude in battle: no mercy, no prisoners.
“Yeah, that would have been funny... but there was no need for it.” She replied nonchalantly. “A noble man has taught me that life has a priceless value and it must be taken only if there’s no other way. Those losers deserved for sure a good lesson, but not more than that.”
The little boy stared at her gaping in silence. This woman hid something more than what the eye met. Peggy was right, she wasn't like all the other Mord-Sith.
“And we need to wake up the Sleeping Beauty.” Cara added turning to him with a teasing smirk and gently nudging her elbow against his little head - a gesture implying Cara's admiration for his cunning, but also a soft reprimand for him having tried to escape. Both blondes chuckled with an unexpected complicity at the thought of a blissfully snoring Kahlan, lying nearby and actually tricked like a simpleton from a small boy.
“I am already awake!” Kahlan stepped out from a group of trees with several leaves in her hair and features still drowsy. “And someone is about to have a hard time for the really funny joke he delivered me.” She pointed her index toward Stefan and flashed him with piercing bright blue eyes. The boy instantly hid himself behind Cara’s legs, shyly leaving his wavy head peer out from his shelter to check with round scared eyes the Confessor’s intention and fearing that he would be soon enslaved.
“How long have you been there?” The Mord-Sith asked, furrowing her forehead and keeping Stefan under her defensive wings.
“Uhmmm a while…” Kahlan carelessly tapped her chin and let her words fall innocently, half smiling and suggesting that she may just have witnessed the tender interaction between the Mord-Sith and her son. The bigger blonde grunted and stiffened. Maybe the looks on her back and the unnerving giggling she had perceived weren't so imaginary after all!
“Let’s get a move on!” Cara grumbled and marched away from the two pests.
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: 3876
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 36 - This boy is crackin’ up
(Verse from the song “Old Town”)
Under the pale light and a misty rain of the autumn evening, the threesome were riding at trotting pace as they had done in the past hours. Suddenly Stefan blurted that he was fucking tired, his ass was aching as hell, he was damn cold and wanted to find a shelter from that frigging rain!
“Who taught you to talk this way?!” A scandalized Kahlan asked to the child leaning in the saddle in front of her. When they left the village Stefan had insisted on riding with the brunette. He was acting extremely wary toward Cara and seemed to prefer the company of the other woman rather than the Mord-Sith.
“Peggy.” He replied without any hint of concern.
“Your nursemaid seemed to be a very kind and polite person. I’m doubtful she talked to you in this manner, much less she taught you to express this rough way.” Kahlan replied with her know-it-all Confessor tone. The child pondered a while then added nonchalantly:
“Maybe also some badass soldiers of the Fort.”
Kahlan sighed and frowned thinking that this boy hadn’t the opportunity to grow in a normal context and certainly needed several lessons on good manners. Cara did her best to hide the small chuckle escaping from her mouth, while quietly riding her horse beside the Confessor’s. As usual the Mord-Sith was amused by whatever was able to scandalize the brunette.
“I told you to stop this damn horse! I need to rest now, what the fuck!” Stefan complained louder, making the Confessor wince in astonishment for his very little courteous attitude. He really cursed like a sailor... and his temper resembled the same one of a certain Mord-Sith. Kahlan opened her mouth to talk, but Cara preceded her with a harsh voice.
“We cannot stop now, full stop! You have to hold your fucking aching ass and shut up.” Kahlan suddenly had the sharp-cut impression to be a cushion stuck between two blonde grumpy hedgehogs.
“Cara, avoid this behavior! You are of no help.” The Confessor seriously retorted. “And you Stefan listen to me: we need to go on a little longer until we find an adequate place for camping this night.” She calmly explained to the boy. “But we’ll stop in the first good spot we glimpse, all right?” She craned her neck to see whether the boy was satisfied with the arrangement. The little one looked at her with a pensive expression, then declared:
“I must pee. Now!”
Kahlan sighed defeated and glanced up to Cara who was wearing a truculent mask and glaring at the boy; he absolutely didn’t pay attention to the mute threat he was reached by, wearing some sort of an impassiveness mask which Kahlan knew very well.
.
Cara was holding the reins of the horses while Kahlan accompanied that little pest to hose the grass. The Mord-Sith was foreseeing a very long and very difficult travel with him. Their off-hand escape from the Concealed Fort wouldn’t certainly fall through the net and very likely Darken Rahl was already aware that his son was no longer within his clutches. Her former Master would send against them every resource he had to get the boy back, therefore the sooner they reached Aydindril, the better it was. Pee breaks permitting!
When they were at Peggy’s house the boy seemed definitely more docile than how he acted now. He cried a lot when he learned that he had to leave that place to follow Cara and Kahlan in the Midlands. The old nursemaid knew him very well and somehow succeeded in convincing him to go, since it was too dangerous for him to stay with her. The kid placed a huge quantity of questions about who had held him prisoner and why; he asked whether they knew who his parents were and many other things concerning him and his captivity. Kahlan took care of providing vague answers to him, since he seemed more at ease with the Confessor rather than with Cara, despite the good words the nanny had put for the Mord-Sith. Anyway the bigger blonde reassured the child that once in Aydindril, she would have left him in peace to follow her duties in D’Hara.
Stefan had a natural and enduring aversion to the Sisters of the Agiel. His experience with other Mord-Sith in the Fort weren’t positive: not one of them ever touched even one of his hairs, but the mute threats and the hatred glaring he received from them hurt and scared him the same. Their harsh words and disdainful comments drove him to despise them. The fearful tales told by the soldiers about the notorious cruelty and the disconcerting attitude at torturing typical of the red-clad warriors, brought Stefan to abhor them.
Before leaving her house the old goat took Cara aside and talked to her in private: the nursemaid told her that Stefan desperately needed a family, something he had always longed to have. The old woman assured her that mother and son would certainly achieve to get close to each other, but time and a little patience were needed. They had to overtake the mutual skepticism and recover the years they had lost. She enthusiastically described the boy as an exceptional, sweet and brave child. The gray-haired woman admitted that he was stubborn, sure, but also steadfast and insightful; he was curios and always wanted to know everything about everything. Cara pursed her lips in a frown: the last thing she needed by her side was another windbag other than the Mother Confessor. Peggy also explained that the child had a brilliant mind which needed to be fed; this was the reason for his frustration and constant excitement. The reason for which he may sometimes seem demanding. Cara just nodded, but spoke no word.
After several other recommendations about how to deal with Stefan the old woman unexpectedly hugged the Mord-Sith. “I’m so happy he has found his mother.” The old woman sobbed. “Take the greatest care of him.”
Cara patted awkwardly her gloved hand on the old back and replied hesitantly: “I will.” At least until I’ll have taken him to a safe place, she completed the sentence inwardly.
One of the horses slightly neighed and the blonde returned focusing on the present, noticing how the child’s pee seemed to be lasting very long. That little bladder couldn’t contain so much liquid. She tied the beasts to a tree and walked in the direction Kahlan took with the boy before, following their track.
After a while Cara saw in the distance the body of the Mother Confessor lying on the grass; the blonde gasped loudly and dashed toward Kahlan, her heartbeat immediately pounding hard in her chest. The blonde knelt over the other woman and felt a little relieved seeing that the Confessor had no visible wounds. Cara checked the pulse on her neck and her breathing. Everything seemed all right and Kahlan looked just peacefully and soundly dozed off.
“Kahlan wake up!” The Mord-Sith shook her gently, but the Confessor didn’t move.
“Confessor it’s not the right moment for snoozing!” Cara shook her more vigorously and Kahlan twisted a bit, giggling in her secret dreams and murmuring some unintelligible words, but didn’t give any other sign that she was about to wake.
Cara swiftly assessed the surroundings, at last remembering Stefan; he was nowhere to be seen. A waterskin was tossed open on the grass and another little glass bottle was left some paces away. The blonde recognized the small ampoule: it was the sedative potion the healer gave her the night before, telling her that it could be helpful to deal with the raffish boy.
That little pest managed to drug Kahlan and fled away! A small part of Cara’s mind couldn’t help but feel proud of this truly sharp boy, who tricked the Mother Confessor as if she was a simpleton. And Cara knew that Kahlan wasn’t a simpleton! Certainly the kid had found a way to leverage on the brunette’s tender heart. The other part of her mind was enraged with this unpredictable and unnerving child, who was promising to supply never endings hassles. Finally the bigger part of her mind was worried: despite all of his cleverness Stefan didn’t grasp the danger he could incur, strolling around the forest alone, whereas there was a ruthless bastard tyrant lurking somewhere and craving to catch him again and kill him.
.
While running, Stefan was still chuckling at the thought of that silly Kahlan who accepted the drugged water he handed to her, furthermore whole-heartedly thanking him for his kindness. Such a dumbass! Certainly the Mord-Sith wouldn’t have been so easy to hoodwink, but he managed to remain alone with the taller and easily duped woman. And now he would find his way back to Peggy’s house and rejoin with the old nanny. He was sure he could convince the nursemaid to keep him with her and they could live happily together.
He hadn’t the barest intention to follow those two women, who clearly saddled him with a pile of bullshit. Who did they think he was, a retarded sucker? He wasn’t! Saviors or not, the whole business had sounded dodgy to him since the first moment, as they gave him only vague and partial answers. The boy was largely doubtful about the Mord-Sith’s reliability and he had the certainty that also the other woman’s honesty was questionable, when he heard that morning the Mord-Sith calling the brunette by mistake ‘Confessor’. The taller lady had glared at the blonde woman as if the latter had just done something wrong and Stefan had immediately figured that they didn’t want him to know who this Kahlan truly was. Therefore the boy didn’t trust her despite the fact that she seemed extremely kind to him, surely kinder than the Mord-Sith! The soldiers of the Fort had told Stefan scary tales also about these Confessors and the horrible practice they pursued to enslave people to their will.
And those two swindler women wanted to bring him in the city of those enslaver Confessors?! No fucking way!
He was lost in his child wondering and didn’t notice a group of wanderers on his way ahead. When he realized the presence of the several and potentially dangerous men it was too late; they had seen him and were pointing at him. Stefan turned on his heels and began to rush in the opposite direction, but it was pointless, they were already chasing him a few steps behind his heels. The boy darted faster but his legs were definitely too short to have a chance of losing them. The fear began to grip his chilling tendrils on him and sweat started to pour down from his forehead both for the fright of what could happen to him if those men caught him, and for the effort of a long run.
Stefan screamed his anguish, asking help to whoever could listen to him and on his mind appeared the imagine of Peggy introducing him to that Mord-Sith, telling him she was his heroine, his guardian angel. Almost intimating him to never leave her side. For once in his life he regretted that he did things his own way, instead of following the advice he was given.
The boy gave a last sprint before his lungs got too burning and his legs too weakened to go on then he stumbled on the slick ground, defeated and too exhausted to keep on his getaway. He rolled himself into a ball with his face on the wet grass and eyes shut, expecting a rough hand grabbing him by the collar at any moment, but the grasp didn’t come. Instead a thundering female voice echoed just behind him.
“Leave this place immediately and maybe I’ll spare your miserable life.”
Stefan dared to lift his head and turn his neck around. He saw the blonde Mord-Sith covering him with her shadow, standing with her back to him. She was canted on her right hip with squared shoulders and fists planted on her flanks. That strong woman was facing a dozen of men without the barest hint of worry.
“Huh look at there!” One of the wanderers had the absurd idea to mock her. “Mommy hen came to save her little chick!”
All the other men around him began to guffaw. That derelict didn’t know how - under a certain point of view - these words were closer to the truth than what he'd expect; neither did Stefan. But instead Cara did. She gritted her teeth at the spoken insolence and firmly gripped her Agiels, feeling immediately coursed by the refreshing shock of pain which always made her feel alive.
In the matter of a moment the prowlers toppled on the red-clad woman. Before diving herself into the action the Mord-Sith briefly thought that in this area there was a definitely annoying lack of due dread toward the Sisterhood of the Agiel. Someone had to take upon herself with the task of teaching a little respect to the native people. Thus she began to generously bestow her lesson.
The Mord-Sith handled the fight in a never ending sequence of fluid relentless movements, with a strength and a velocity as Stefan had never seen before. Her blows were mighty and precise, her motion coordinated and flawless. The child was wonder-stricken by the amazing battle this extraordinary warrior was leading and he kept on staring at her with wide admired eyes, barely catching her light speed blows, until the last opponent fell on the ground unconscious.
Cara stood still for a moment to steady her short breath then abruptly turned to the boy. The fluttering of her braid and the darts of fire from her sea-green eyes left him out of breath, and he remained frozen looking at her walking in flash strides toward him. She knelt before the child and struck him with an even more intense deadly glare, grabbing him by his shoulders and shaking him violently.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” She screamed in his face. “I haven’t sweated my guts out to get you out of that fucking Fort to see you killed by the first band of scum that crosses your path!!”
He remained there gazing at her, incapable to utter any word. He was too shocked and still overwhelmed by the many emotions of the past two days, which he was still elaborating.
“Don’t you dare escape again, is that understood little jerk?!” Cara snarled and grabbed him tighter to the point that she hurt him. She neared her raging reddened face to his’. Their noses were almost touching and she was deeply scanning him to decipher whether the boy had clearly gotten the message.
He was still mute and wide eyed and his face began to slowly contort in a sad grimace; swollen tears started rolling down his full cheeks. He lowered his head sobbing in front of this startling woman, who he was still largely skeptical whether he could trust in.
Cara should have expected this, but the same she felt taken aback. She had made him cry…
She was undecided whether it was odder that having provoked those tears was making her feel shamefully guilty or that she'd rather slap herself to mend it, instead of slapping the pest for his insubordination. Cara also thought that if the Mother Confessor was there, she'd certainly harshly reprimand the blonde for her roughness toward a small kid. Well, Mord-Sith weren’t exactly prepared to deal with naughty disobedient children! Cara had just reacted in the only way she knew: a frontal attack. But why - in the name of the Creator! - was she justifying herself from the accuses of an imaginary Kahlan?! Cara briefly shut her eyes and shook her head to clear her mind.
“Don’t cry. Nobody hurt you.” She loosened her grip on Stefan and tentatively tried to make him more at ease, but her voice was definitely too harsh to sound comforting and he kept on whimpering, rubbing his hand against his face.
“Boys don’t cry.” She added, struggling to make her voice sound slightly softer and hoping to gain his attention. She was far from believing this last statement, since she had seen hundreds of men in tears under her hands, but this was the kind of things males use to tell to one another to boast themselves. Maybe Stefan might believe it? But he still seemed forlorn. She huffed for the awkwardness of this situation. The whining he was emitting was bothering her, even if not in the way things usually bothered her.
“If you stop crying I promise I’ll teach you a couple of tricks to beat a big strong man.” This was the last resource Cara had. And unexpectedly it worked.
“Really?” Round glistening clear blue eyes flashed her in full excitement. He really looked like a tender puppy. Cara couldn’t help but slightly smile at him. Has she just said ‘tender puppy’? The imaginary Kahlan chimed again giggling. Cara groaned wondering what kind of mess was going on in her head then focused back on the child.
“Sure. Even a midget like you could win with the help of my tips.” She added malice to her expression, to recompose her Mord-Sith’s demeanor.
“And you’ll let me try your weapons?” He asked tentatively gazing at Cara’s Agiels. “I haven’t still figured out how they work.” But the blonde immediately scowled the deepest possible and snapped at him:
“You must never, NEVER touch my Agiels, is that understood?”
“Why?”
“Because I say so!” She insisted angrily with a louder voice and leaving no room for further arguing.
The kid rolled his eyes and frowned with a face very similar to the one in front of him. But in the end he nodded silently, hushed by the Mord-Sith’s zeal. Then he resumed:
“But promise me you’ll teach me your tricks.” He exclaimed stretching his pinkie to her. Cara eyed at his finger perplexed then lifted her eyebrow and looked at him mutely questioning.
“Give me your little finger and say pinkie swear.” He explained. “The promises made in this way cannot be broken for any reason.” Cara curled her lips half amused and half annoyed, then linked her finger with her son’s.
“Pinkie swear.” She reluctantly conceded him the point. Stefan smiled satisfied then tried to withdraw his finger from Cara’s, but she held his little extremity in place.
“And you,” She astutely retorted “promise me you won’t escape anymore.” The blonde was challenging him on his play ground. He stared at her face slightly suspicious, recognizing her cleverness. She trapped him in a trick and forced him to grant her this victory. But now he felt somehow not so much disturbed by the idea of hanging around with this formidable warrior, though he mentally took note to be more careful not to incur in her outburst of anger. Fuck, she was truly frightening when she wanted!
“Pinkie swear.” He conceded. After she released his hand, the boy jumped on her neck and hugged her tight, smiling happily.
“Thank you Cara Mason for saving me… again!”
Cara felt even more awkward than before and remained stiff, knelt with this little one dangling from her neck. She really didn’t expect such a reaction from the distrustful boy and unconsciously sent a hand on his back, slightly patting him. She smelled again the sweet scent of his hair, which made her close her eyes for a heartbeat and rest her hand on his tiny back. The imaginary Kahlan was certainly giggling again now and would probably come back later to talk about feelings and other stuff like that, Cara inwardly sighed.
Suddenly he parted from her and added with a certain annoyance in his voice.
“I’m not a midget, anyway!”
Cara couldn’t help but sending him a toothy smile, amused by his offended tone. She stood up straightening her back and mutely showing the evidence of his minute height. Again he immediately caught her silent speech, but neither of the two paid attention at the unexpected perfect understanding between them.
“I mean, I’m big for my age!” He insisted looking upward toward Cara’s shining eyes, evidently searching her approval. She crossed her arms on her chest and kept on smiling at his funny being vain.
“Sure! As big as a pinkie.” She mocked him.
“I am big! I’m not a pinkie!” He protested, exposing his adorable childishly insulted frown.
“Well, now we’d better get a move Pinkie, before those guys here wake up and I change my mind and decide to send you with them.” She tilted her head toward the pile of lying men never dismissing her amused smile.
“I thought you had killed them all…” Stefan uttered shyly. He had been told about Mord-Sith’s attitude in battle: no mercy, no prisoners.
“Yeah, that would have been funny... but there was no need for it.” She replied nonchalantly. “A noble man has taught me that life has a priceless value and it must be taken only if there’s no other way. Those losers deserved for sure a good lesson, but not more than that.”
The little boy stared at her gaping in silence. This woman hid something more than what the eye met. Peggy was right, she wasn't like all the other Mord-Sith.
“And we need to wake up the Sleeping Beauty.” Cara added turning to him with a teasing smirk and gently nudging her elbow against his little head - a gesture implying Cara's admiration for his cunning, but also a soft reprimand for him having tried to escape. Both blondes chuckled with an unexpected complicity at the thought of a blissfully snoring Kahlan, lying nearby and actually tricked like a simpleton from a small boy.
“I am already awake!” Kahlan stepped out from a group of trees with several leaves in her hair and features still drowsy. “And someone is about to have a hard time for the really funny joke he delivered me.” She pointed her index toward Stefan and flashed him with piercing bright blue eyes. The boy instantly hid himself behind Cara’s legs, shyly leaving his wavy head peer out from his shelter to check with round scared eyes the Confessor’s intention and fearing that he would be soon enslaved.
“How long have you been there?” The Mord-Sith asked, furrowing her forehead and keeping Stefan under her defensive wings.
“Uhmmm a while…” Kahlan carelessly tapped her chin and let her words fall innocently, half smiling and suggesting that she may just have witnessed the tender interaction between the Mord-Sith and her son. The bigger blonde grunted and stiffened. Maybe the looks on her back and the unnerving giggling she had perceived weren't so imaginary after all!
“Let’s get a move on!” Cara grumbled and marched away from the two pests.