The Divide - Part 1
Author: Aerows
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: M
Warnings: Contains sex
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker and The Sword of Truth do not belong to me, unfortunately. No profit is made from this work, it's just for fun and no infringement is intended.
Summary: The New World is threatened by war. The Mother Confessor, Mord'Sith Cara and the Seeker are forced to make hard choices that will ultimately affect their world.
The Divide
Lord Rahl and his grandfather, the First Wizard Zedd, had left that morning to go south through the Divide to reach a troop of D'Haran soldiers that were suffering from some sort of malady. The Divide was an area so devoid of magic that it could weaken things that were inherently magical. That included the Sword of Truth, Agiels and a Confessor's power.
Mord'Sith could also be affected by it, and if given a choice, Cara had no intention of having her Agiels destroyed for the sake of saving two days travel time. She gripped the weapons at her side, those that had trained her to be Mord'Sith, and drank in the pain they bestowed. The pain was not a comfort; it was a reminder of reality, and one that grounded her. It was the reminder of her duty, and her self-confidence rose; she was Mord'Sith and would not fail in her mission. There was no pain or weakness that could conquer her.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
Cara was traveling to Renwold with Kahlan. The Mother Confessor had her own mission, and would not be dissuaded. Something in her eyes still looked haunted after her confrontation with Richard when he had told her of the Divide. There, her Confessor's power would not work, and she could safely be intimate with the Lord Rahl without confessing him. The risk was that her powers would be weakened, possibly for an extended period of time. The grim set of her features and the way she had turned her back to the Seeker for even suggesting it had illustrated no conflicts. She would not turn away from what she was or her duty to her people.
The Mord'Sith respected that, and had in truth expected no other reaction from Kahlan Amnell. She was the Mother Confessor, and was busy writing her own legend independent of those that had come before her. Zedd and the Lord Rahl had magic; Kahlan, Mother Confessor and ruler of the Midlands, was Magic. The wizard had intimated that she herself, Mistress Cara, was also magic, but the Mord'Sith had sneered. Still, she had not been sorry when Lord Rahl had ordered her to protect and obey the Mother Confessor as she did himself. It was not an unwelcome duty, and one that she would unhesitatingly carry out, even at the cost of her own life.
The Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor had started out as enemies, but they had been traveling so much together and relying upon one another, in life or death situations, that they had settled into what could only be called a friendship. Occasionally, the concept twisted Cara's mouth, but she couldn't deny that she felt a certain kinship with the Confessor. Kahlan Amnell was a warrior to the blood and bone, and a Mord'Sith respected that quality. Cara respected that quality. Kahlan trusted the Mord'Sith with her life, and Cara would gladly give her life for the Confessor. Setting off once more in the company of just the Confessor gave her a different feeling than it would have months ago; Cara found herself looking forward to spending time alone with the tall brunette.
The Sword of Truth was on Kahlan's leather covered back, and while Cara would never say it aloud, it seemed to her that it suited the woman and her deadly grace far better than it suited Lord Rahl. Lord Rahl was the Seeker, but his raw power was better suited to a heavier weapon like an axe or a mace. Kahlan, for all that she was the Mother Confessor, was a master of blades. Daggers nearly the length of short swords were what she used most of the time, but Cara had seen her use a sword. Kahlan used a sword like it was a part of her. With the Sword of Truth in her hands, and the skill of a thousand years of Seekers flooding into her, she was a storm of steel.
The Seeker had only begun using the Sword of Truth in the last six months; Kahlan had spent nearly a lifetime learning blade work. Yes, she thought to herself, a wood's guide is far better suited to the axe. A traitorous thought slipped across her mind. And the Mother Confessor is far better suited to rule. She clamped down on that thought, however, because what was, was. Richard was the Lord Rahl, and Kahlan was the Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
They had defeated the Keeper, but now rumors of a new threat had arisen; the Imperial Order. The Order despised magic in all forms, and they were coming to put their boots to the neck of the New World. The barriers had fallen when Richard had gone through the gates of Perdition, and now the Old World was streaming into the New. The fact that they were now crossing this harsh terrain and wouldn't find a town for another day made Cara curse them soundly. She would kill them for forcing her to traipse across this land for that reason alone, never mind the fact that they were coming for her Lord and the people of the New World.
And Kahlan, her traitorous mind once again supplied. How was it that she suddenly felt so much loyalty to the Mother Confessor - the one person that she had been trained to hate as her mortal enemy? One glance at the woman answered her question. Kahlan was a born ruler, a powerful warrior in her own right, and a gorgeous, compassionate woman. She could have appeared in rags and still she would have commanded and ruled as easily as she did in her regal white dress. In her traveling leathers she looked like the Queen of War. Which she is, Cara's mind again supplied, tempered by duty and … compassion.
* * *
The town of Timberline was aptly named; it was on the very edge of the forest, before the terrain gave way to the arid, rocky landscape of the desert. This would be the last town they would encounter until after they had crossed two days worth of Wilds wasteland to enter the territory of Renwold. They could have taken a slightly different route and added a week onto their travels, but Kahlan had wanted to get to Renwold as soon as possible. Having to travel on foot was certainly slowing them down, but the Confessor was resolved to go forward. Richard and Zedd would catch up with them in a town just inside the border.
Kahlan fumed the entire way. She was enraged that Richard would not only suggest that she put off investigating reports of an army invading her land, harming her people, but that she would risk weakening her powers at a time when they were needed the most. And for such selfish reasons, she inwardly ranted. She knew her feelings for Richard had subtly begun to change as their mission to stop the Keeper had ended, but even before there would not have been the slightest hesitation in her decision, nor should Richard have ever expected there to be.
“Come with me.” Richard had asked, his hand stretched out to her, brown eyes sparkling. She knew why he had asked. In the Divide, she wouldn't be able to use her powers, thus couldn't Confess him if they consummated their relationship. She had just stared at him. Richard had interpreted her searching look as consideration. “It's only for a few days, then we can all go together to Renwold to help your people.” He eased closer with a warm smile.
Cara had looked on their confrontation with stunned surprise, which is to say her eyes widened and a sneer touched her lips. The look she gave Richard suggested he had just done something supremely stupid. It was as disrespectful of an expression as she had ever shot the Lord Rahl's way.
Kahlan recoiled from his outstretched hand in shock unable to speak for a long moment. “Richard, have you lost your mind?” She had shouted in his face, rage flooding her. “I'm the Mother Confessor. I have a duty to the people of the Midlands as their ruler and as the highest authority in the land as a Confessor. I can't risk weakening my power right now anymore than I can ignore my duty to my people. You have no idea how long it will take to resolve the situation with the D'Harans.”
Anger flared in his brown eyes. “Zedd said the weakening of your powers wouldn't be permanent, and it's only for a few days. We can leave the Sword of Truth with Cara, and then we can go to the D'Haran camp.” He crossed his arms, his raptor gaze that of the Seeker who believed he had clearly worked out the solution to a problem. “You'll have a contingent of D'Harans to help.”
His mouth had twisted at the mention of the D'Harans. It was subtle, but it was clear to a Confessor that could read the truth. Kahlan knew he was very reluctant to do anything at all until the Mother Confessor had reminded him that despite what he wanted, he was the Lord Rahl and it was his duty to see to his people. It was then that she had realized it was only the mention of the Divide that had caused him to relent. It stung her that it wasn't duty, but rather selfishness that ultimately drove him to do the right thing. It also disappointed her, and reminded her of just one more reason her feelings toward him had chilled; as the Seeker, it was easy to see him as duty-bound. As the Lord Rahl, ruler of D'Hara, whom they would need to fight the coming battles, he seemed so unwilling.
“So you would have me risk weakening my powers, but not the Sword of Truth?” She asked quietly, her face frozen in the mask of the Mother Confessor. “Richard, what you are asking of me is something that I cannot do - something I will not do. Go with Zedd, we will meet you in Duskwood.” With that she turned her back on the Seeker and marched away. The look of satisfaction on Cara's face as the Mord'Sith helped Kahlan make preparations to leave had not been lost to the Mother Confessor. At least Cara had understood; Zedd would have, too, had he not been off investigating the Divide.
Richard had tried to apologize to Kahlan as he placed the Sword of Truth in her capable hands, but she had just looked at him, knowing her face was carefully schooled into the dispassionate face of the Mother Confessor. She had slipped the baldric over her head, merely said, “Take care, Seeker, and listen to Zedd's counsel.”
Richard had ordered Cara to protect and obey Kahlan, and the Mord'Sith had merely nodded. Kahlan then heard them converse in soft words, but she could not make out what it had been. When she glanced back briefly at Richard, there was a look of regret on his face. His look of regret couldn't penetrate the anger she felt enough to give him more than a nod of farewell.
* * *
Cara secured their lodging in Timberline, so that the residents would not know it was the Mother Confessor in their midst. Lord Rahl would be able to find a Mord'Sith, and another woman; they didn't need to announce to everyone that the Mother Confessor herself was there. Protect her as you protect me. Lord Rahl's order had been clear. It was too great of a temptation for their enemies. Mord'Sith were hardly a common sight, but they were not unprecedented. The Mother Confessor was unprecedented no matter where she went.
Cara had climbed the stairs, and stowed their gear with the advice that the Mother Confessor should stay put and rest, since it was sensible. It had irritated Kahlan. She was not used to hiding who she was, nor was she used to being idle. She had stayed in their room for all of fifteen minutes, pacing around before she left it. She carefully hid the Sword of Truth beneath the mattress of the bed and the ball of frustration in her belly seemed to loosen. With practiced ease she hid daggers about her person before heading for the main hall of the inn. A glass of wine was just what she needed to balance her nerves out.
Kahlan sat at a worn, but clean oak table in the common room with the hood of her cloak up. She had pulled her long hair back in a braid, hiding it in her cloak so as not to call attention to herself nor her station with her long hair. In the Midlands, no one had longer hair than a Confessor, and Kahlan's hair was that of the Mother Confessor. It had pained her to braid it, as though she was denying a part of herself, but she was used to that. She was capable of denying her stature and the ache it caused her bundling up her braid to get a bit of anonymity. It was a comfortable old friend, the way the pain pulled at her.
The table was in the corner, facing the door of the inn so that she could see all that came in or out without being obvious about it. She had stayed here before; the beds were clean and the Innkeeper kept the rougher sorts out. The large bouncer, Moll, wore a cudgel at his waist and he knew how to use it. She sipped on the wine in front of her, attempting to dispel her irritation.
Cara had disappeared an hour ago, claiming that she needed to check for supplies in the town. There hadn't been shouts, screams or commotion so it was a fairly safe bet that the Mord'Sith wasn't in any trouble, but Cara could find trouble nearly as quickly as Richard could. Cara's over-protectiveness bothered her at times, but right now, the lack of her was bothering Kahlan worse. She wanted to take a bath and wasn't willing to be left that vulnerable without the blonde around. After days of traveling, Kahlan felt grime and sweat mingle together like a cloak on her body and she was ready to be rid of it. It was only the two of them, though, and if experience had taught her anything, it was that they needed to be careful.
If Kahlan were honest with herself, she actually missed the company of the Mord'Sith. Her anger at Richard had receded as she and Cara had traveled, each content in their duties. Finally they were in a town where they could enjoy a good meal. The blonde had been more surly than usual over the past few days, and Kahlan had hoped a relaxing dinner and a good night's rest would put the blonde in a better mood.
Just as she was about to get up and attempt to find the blonde, Cara breezed into the inn with her familiar confident strut. The Mord'Sith appeared to be nearly relaxed, or as relaxed as Cara ever got. Kahlan's voice was dry. "I see you've decided to join me again. I'm guessing it didn't occur to you that I wanted a bath, too, since I see you've already had one." Cara just smirked and ordered a wine from the serving girl brusquely.
“The opportunity presented itself, and I didn't want to waste it.” Cara answered smoothly, accepting the wine from the serving girl who had practically run to serve the woman in red leather. Apparently Mord'Sith were just as feared here as they were everywhere else. Cara certainly had presence. “Bring a bath to our room immediately and make sure the water is hot.” She commanded the mousy young woman in a tone hard enough to cut stone.
She then turned green eyes that could only be described as amused to Kahlan's blue ones, and said, “See, now you will get your bath.” She took a healthy sip of her wine, and Kahlan shot her a puzzled look. “What?” The Mord'Sith asked in a slightly harsh tone.
“Well you are certainly in a better mood.” Kahlan eyed her suspiciously. “Maybe I should go have a bath where ever you had one instead. Did you beat someone up on the way here, too?” A fight usually put the Mord'Sith in a better mood.
A slightly arrogant grin covered Cara's face. She cut her eyes back to Kahlan and said in a low voice that caused a shiver to go down the Confessor's spine. “No, I haven't been fighting.” Kahlan waited, expecting more. The Mord'Sith was far from loquacious but judging from the satisfied look on her face, there was certainly more to her good mood than just a bath and supplies.
“Where did you find a bath house in this town? I've been here before but I don't remember them having one. I'd like to visit it before we go.” Kahlan said, attempting to prod the blonde into telling her where she had been.
Cara raised an eyebrow, and got a challenging look in her eyes. “I'm not taking you to a brothel Kahlan. You'll have a bath in the room soon enough.” Kahlan could swear Cara's eyes sparkled a little when the Confessor sputtered into her wine cup. Having spent enough time around Cara, her face truly was expressive when one knew where to look. The Mord'Sith was amused.
Kahlan's mouth was dry and she took a deep drink of her wine. Before her better judgment took hold, she blurted the first question that came to her mind. “What were you doing in a brothel, Cara?” Her voice was a little higher than normal, and she felt a blush creep up in her cheeks.
Cara, for her part, was rather enjoying the brunette's discomfiture. She cocked an eyebrow and looked Kahlan straight in the eye. “What everyone else does in a brothel.” The wicked smirk she delivered as she said it, drew out the syllables and drank of her wine spoke volumes.
“They have men in the brothel, too?” Kahlan asked genuine curiosity threading her tone, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Cara had gone to a brothel for … what everyone else did in a brothel. Not that Kahlan had ever been in a brothel before, nor was it ever likely she would be.
Cara just looked at her. “As customers, yes, but I certainly didn't go there for a man.” Kahlan opened her mouth, but Cara forestalled the next comment that she knew was coming. “Surely you are aware that a woman can take her pleasure with another woman.” Her tone was arch, and she cocked an eyebrow over eyes that sparkled with challenge.
Kahlan felt a heated blush rise even higher in her cheeks, but was spared coming up with a reply to that when the serving girl came to announce that her bath was ready. Cara looked just as happy that the conversation had come to an end. Before Cara could rise to follow her, Kahlan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Finish your wine. I'm sure you can guard me adequately from here.” As Kahlan hurried away, Cara watched the slim hips sway and felt a bit of disappointment that she wouldn't be in the room with the brunette while she was in the bath, and not entirely for reasons of security.
Kahlan wasn't certain which emotion was running highest in her; embarrassment, excitement or, oddly, jealousy. She had known women that preferred the company of other women, but it hadn't dawned on her until right then that Cara was one of them. Cara was beautiful, and commanded a sensuality that one would have to be blind to miss, but Kahlan had never thought of her in that way before.
For some reason, now it was all that she could think of. Sitting in the warm bath, naked, contemplating Cara taking her pleasure with another woman was bad enough; thankfully the blond had gotten the hint and stayed outside. Naked, with the blond watching her as she thought about Cara taking her pleasure with another woman would have been more than she could manage at the moment.
* * *
Kahlan did not bring up Cara's trip to the brothel again when they had dinner together in the common room and mercifully, the blond had let it go, as well. Cara was less irritable than usual, and the Confessor felt herself responding to the Mord'Sith's lighter demeanor. Cara wasn't ever what one could call cheerful, but she was definitely more relaxed. Kahlan found herself looking at the blond's face, admiring the high cheekbones and full lips. She realized she had been staring when Cara shot her a strange look and announced she was going to bed. Kahlan shook her head and wondered if she'd had too much wine as she followed the Mord'Sith up the stairs to their room.
Kahlan had discovered that what she liked most about staying at an inn during their travels, besides the fact that it was a real bed, was that when she and the Mord'Sith shared a room, they usually shared a bed. When it was cold at night and they made camp, occasionally she would share a blanket with Cara to keep warm, but the Mord'Sith grumbled about it. When they stayed in an inn, and there was only one bed, there was no reason for the blond to argue. Kahlan had discovered that she craved contact; as a Confessor, there were few that welcomed her touch willingly. Slipping into the soft sheets, she rested her head on the pillow, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in days. As she felt Cara slide in beside her and blow out the candle, Kahlan felt herself close to drifting off to sleep.
The Mord'Sith lay in the dark, relaxation taking over her. Her physical needs had been adequately, if not expertly relieved by a tall, short-haired brunette at the brothel, and now she could rest comfortably. She waited until she heard the deep even breathing of the Confessor sleeping. A smile washed over her features in the darkness, and she rolled closer to her, slipping against Kahlan's body softly, draping an arm across Kahlan's waist. Kahlan made a little noise of contentment, pressing her backside firmly against Cara's thighs, and placed a hand on the one at her waist. She stiffened slightly, both at the spike of arousal the movement had caused and because she had thought the Confessor asleep.
“This always feels good, Cara, you are so warm.” The Mord'Sith was startled by the Confessor's gentle statement, and froze. Cara felt a mortified blush rising in her cheeks. She hadn't realized that Kahlan knew that it was often Cara that initiated the contact between them when they shared a bed. “It feels safe having you close to me in a strange place.” The Confessor murmured sleepily, stroking her hip, then pulled Cara's hand more firmly across her waist as she settled into her.
Her nose was buried in the sweet scent of the Confessor's hair, listening to her breathe, her body warm against her own. She forced the arousal down roughly, content to lie there in the moment. There was no watch to wake up for, and no wizard or Lord Rahl to interrupt or worse, witnesses to her weakness for the Confessor's warmth. She could never admit it but she relished it when she spent the night in an inn next to Kahlan. With the gentle acknowledgment that Kahlan felt warm and safe sleeping close to her, the Confessor had absolved Cara the Mord'Sith Protector of the sin of enjoying it. She was not far behind the Confessor in drifting into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, with something suspiciously like a contented smile on her face.
* * *
Kahlan kept finding herself looking at the Mord'Sith - really looking at her. Her full lips, her breasts and the raw sexuality that she so casually displayed. She could swear Cara had caught her perusal a few times, but the blond had said nothing and done little more than flick an eyebrow at her in question. Kahlan tried to continue on as though things were normal, but they weren't. Something had changed inside of her as she began to consider possibilities she had not before.
Cara had not missed the surreptitious glances the Mother Confessor kept sending her way. At first, she thought it was puzzlement, as though the Mord'Sith was something she'd never seen before, but as she caught the blue eyes sliding across her body she realized that it was something else entirely. She felt the burning glances nearly like a touch, never imagining that it would be the Mother Confessor directing such looks her way. She wondered if the dark-haired woman had any idea of the heat her looks were projecting. Considering the shock that had registered in her face when Cara had blithely announced she'd been to a brothel for pleasure with a woman, the Mord'Sith suspected she did not. If the Confessor didn't stop looking at her that way, she was going to need to visit another one soon.
Cara sat down with her back to a rock, having pitched camped, and finally caught dinner as it ran too close to her. She roasted the small rabbit over the flames, and looked over at the Mother Confessor. Kahlan's face was as unreadable as her own had ever been, staring into the fire. Something was clearly on her mind, because the Mother Confessor unconsciously kept stirring the flames, causing sparks to shoot up while an intent look took up residence on her face. The only time Cara saw her do that was when she was deep in thought. She knew that the Confessor had been extremely angry at the Lord Rahl, but she had thought Kahlan was past the brooding stage. The Confessor certainly could hold on to anger far longer than many, but when it passed, she tended to let it go completely.
Cara contemplated what to say to Kahlan to drag her out of her pessimism. Having traveled with the Confessor for this long, Cara found that she could not only read her moods, she found that she purposefully did so. That was also ridiculous, because a Mord'Sith did not go around reading the moods of people other than the Lord Rahl whom they served. Except Cara found she … cared. She cared how Kahlan felt. She struggled to explain to herself that it was because it helped her protect the Mother Confessor better.
The desert grew cold as darkness deepened. The Mord'Sith flicked the blood red cloak around her shoulders, an eye on Kahlan, and an eye into the nothing of darkness. Kahlan's boots shifted in the dust to her bags, and she dug into them, withdrawing a tightly sealed bottle. She opened it, and eyed Cara. Taking a deep drink of it, she shook her head roughly after swallowing, then recapped it. The blue eyes offered a challenge. Cara always felt exhilaration rise in her when Kahlan got that look in her eye.
“Take the chill off?” Kahlan brusquely pressed the bottle into the Mord'Sith's hands, eyes flashing over the cloak Cara had wrapped tighter around herself unconsciously. Had Cara been the sort to flush with embarrassment, she might have. As it stood, she merely cursed herself inwardly. Kahlan had noticed that she was cold, noticed her weakness. Kahlan could handle the cold far better than she withstood the heat; the Mother Confessor was from a land of snow and storms. Cara herself was fine in the glare of the desert sun, but wasn't overly fond of cold.
She raised the bottle, and uncapped it, the scent of alcohol assaulting her nostrils. She held the blue eyes across from her. Cara, for all that she was Mord'Sith, did not drink hard liquor often. She consumed wine - and ale if necessary - but this was not ale or wine; this was very strong liquor. She knew her limits and consuming strong drink was not something she allowed herself to indulge. The challenging stare told her that Kahlan knew this, and was daring her to refuse. She inwardly sighed and brought her lips to the neck of the bottle. She tilted it back to get a throatful as Kahlan had done, and it burned her tongue. She closed her eyes, choking a bit as she downed the stinging liquid, grimacing as she recapped the bottle. She opened her eyes to amused blue ones, and a flash of white teeth in a mouth curved into a full grin.
Kahlan took the bottle back, amusement dancing across her features. “Not used to Aydindril Stout, I see.” Kahlan's voice was almost musical with laughter. Cara glared at her. Kahlan ignored the glare and took another swallow from the bottle, the warmth pleasantly flooding her middle. She had forgotten she had the bottle of liquor at the bottom of her bags until she had found it yesterday. She passed it to the blond who clearly wanted to refuse but took another swig out of sheer Mord'Sith stubbornness.
“No, especially not on watch, Mother Confessor. Alcohol dulls the senses and I am not given to failing in my duties.” The words were harsh and laced with displeasure at Kahlan's mockery. Kahlan rose and packed the bottle away into her bags, and then shifted so that she was close enough to lay a gentle hand on Cara's gloved one. Cara found herself pierced once again by eyes the color of a clear sky.
“Cara.” She said it gently. Her name said in that tone of voice paralyzed the Mord'Sith. Kahlan held her with only her gaze. “In a few days, we are going to be surrounded yet again by duty. We are here, alone, in the middle of nothing.” Kahlan looked away from her, and Cara felt her heart swell at the sight of the regal profile, long dark hair whipping around it.
The Mother Confessor was beautiful. Strength and dedication all etched themselves into her features, but compassion and kindness softened them. She turned back to stare into Cara, taking her gloved hand into both of her own. “If I can't let go here, for just a few moments, I can never let go.” Kahlan said it with a sigh and then let go of her hand, and started moving back to sit on the rock she perched upon.
Something in her voice was sad, and suddenly, Cara realized where Kahlan's earlier melancholy originated. Even this fierce soul had limits, and Kahlan had reached hers. The argument with Richard had affected her, and despite the fact that she did her duty without question, it still weighed on the Mother Confessor's soul. Without even thinking of what she was doing, Cara surged forward catching her before she pulled away, and knelt before her. Whether she had intended to merely take her hand or embrace her, Cara could not say, because halfway to Kahlan, soft lips met hers in a gentle kiss, and suddenly she was lost. Kahlan's hair blew around them as their mouths met.
The lips were soft and warm; shocked she attempted to draw back, stunned that she had taken such a liberty with the Mother Confessor. Strong hands caught her around the shoulders, holding on to her. The kiss deepened, and on pure instinct, she opened her mouth to the one that was on her own. Her tongue surged against Kahlan's, plundering her mouth, tasting the liquor they had both consumed, and the taste of the woman herself. Arousal flooded her, and she wanted nothing more than to take and be taken. She let one hand drift down to Kahlan's waist, pulling the Confessor more tightly against her, and with a shudder, she felt the soft press of breasts against her own through the leather. Lips tore away from hers roughly, shattering the sensation. She felt Kahlan's forehead upon her own.
She opened her eyes to see the Confessor, eyes firmly shut, with an anguished look upon her face. Cara raised a dust-covered, blood-red leather clad hand to stroke her cheek, to reassure her. Kahlan leaned into the touch, but then pulled away.
“I'm sorry - I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that.” Kahlan's words were soft, and her eyes still closed. Her pale cheeks had a flush of pink to them in the firelight. Cara pulled her softly against her chest, and stroked her cheek with her own. She murmured into the shell of Kahlan's ear. A tenderness consumed her; it was a part of her spirit invoked only by the woman in her arms.
“It is alright, Kahlan.” She felt the Confessor shudder. Her own breathing was heavy. Kahlan had sent arrows of desire through her, all converging in her center, all screaming at her to reclaim the dark haired siren's lips and possess the one causing her blood to race. Warm hands stroked up her back through her leather, and Cara involuntarily gasped with want.
“You can let go with me, Kahlan, and you certainly don't need to get me drunk for me to desire you.” It was supposed to be teasing, but it couldn't be, not with the feelings coursing through her. It came out huskily and much more intimately than she had intended.
“I'm sorry Cara.” Kahlan pulled back roughly, embarrassment coloring her pale cheeks, stood and walked ten paces away from her. “I forgot myself.” Kahlan said it so softly, Cara almost wondered if she had really heard it or if it was the wind. Cara's arms were empty, but not as empty as the vacant tone with which Kahlan had spoken. The dust rising around Kahlan's boots was like the dust that the Mother Confessor had shaken from her Mord'Sith heart, causing it to beat and to feel again. There was nothing she could think of to say or do in that moment, but silently she willed her own strength into Kahlan.
(Part 2)
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: M
Warnings: Contains sex
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker and The Sword of Truth do not belong to me, unfortunately. No profit is made from this work, it's just for fun and no infringement is intended.
Summary: The New World is threatened by war. The Mother Confessor, Mord'Sith Cara and the Seeker are forced to make hard choices that will ultimately affect their world.
The Divide
Lord Rahl and his grandfather, the First Wizard Zedd, had left that morning to go south through the Divide to reach a troop of D'Haran soldiers that were suffering from some sort of malady. The Divide was an area so devoid of magic that it could weaken things that were inherently magical. That included the Sword of Truth, Agiels and a Confessor's power.
Mord'Sith could also be affected by it, and if given a choice, Cara had no intention of having her Agiels destroyed for the sake of saving two days travel time. She gripped the weapons at her side, those that had trained her to be Mord'Sith, and drank in the pain they bestowed. The pain was not a comfort; it was a reminder of reality, and one that grounded her. It was the reminder of her duty, and her self-confidence rose; she was Mord'Sith and would not fail in her mission. There was no pain or weakness that could conquer her.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
Cara was traveling to Renwold with Kahlan. The Mother Confessor had her own mission, and would not be dissuaded. Something in her eyes still looked haunted after her confrontation with Richard when he had told her of the Divide. There, her Confessor's power would not work, and she could safely be intimate with the Lord Rahl without confessing him. The risk was that her powers would be weakened, possibly for an extended period of time. The grim set of her features and the way she had turned her back to the Seeker for even suggesting it had illustrated no conflicts. She would not turn away from what she was or her duty to her people.
The Mord'Sith respected that, and had in truth expected no other reaction from Kahlan Amnell. She was the Mother Confessor, and was busy writing her own legend independent of those that had come before her. Zedd and the Lord Rahl had magic; Kahlan, Mother Confessor and ruler of the Midlands, was Magic. The wizard had intimated that she herself, Mistress Cara, was also magic, but the Mord'Sith had sneered. Still, she had not been sorry when Lord Rahl had ordered her to protect and obey the Mother Confessor as she did himself. It was not an unwelcome duty, and one that she would unhesitatingly carry out, even at the cost of her own life.
The Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor had started out as enemies, but they had been traveling so much together and relying upon one another, in life or death situations, that they had settled into what could only be called a friendship. Occasionally, the concept twisted Cara's mouth, but she couldn't deny that she felt a certain kinship with the Confessor. Kahlan Amnell was a warrior to the blood and bone, and a Mord'Sith respected that quality. Cara respected that quality. Kahlan trusted the Mord'Sith with her life, and Cara would gladly give her life for the Confessor. Setting off once more in the company of just the Confessor gave her a different feeling than it would have months ago; Cara found herself looking forward to spending time alone with the tall brunette.
The Sword of Truth was on Kahlan's leather covered back, and while Cara would never say it aloud, it seemed to her that it suited the woman and her deadly grace far better than it suited Lord Rahl. Lord Rahl was the Seeker, but his raw power was better suited to a heavier weapon like an axe or a mace. Kahlan, for all that she was the Mother Confessor, was a master of blades. Daggers nearly the length of short swords were what she used most of the time, but Cara had seen her use a sword. Kahlan used a sword like it was a part of her. With the Sword of Truth in her hands, and the skill of a thousand years of Seekers flooding into her, she was a storm of steel.
The Seeker had only begun using the Sword of Truth in the last six months; Kahlan had spent nearly a lifetime learning blade work. Yes, she thought to herself, a wood's guide is far better suited to the axe. A traitorous thought slipped across her mind. And the Mother Confessor is far better suited to rule. She clamped down on that thought, however, because what was, was. Richard was the Lord Rahl, and Kahlan was the Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
They had defeated the Keeper, but now rumors of a new threat had arisen; the Imperial Order. The Order despised magic in all forms, and they were coming to put their boots to the neck of the New World. The barriers had fallen when Richard had gone through the gates of Perdition, and now the Old World was streaming into the New. The fact that they were now crossing this harsh terrain and wouldn't find a town for another day made Cara curse them soundly. She would kill them for forcing her to traipse across this land for that reason alone, never mind the fact that they were coming for her Lord and the people of the New World.
And Kahlan, her traitorous mind once again supplied. How was it that she suddenly felt so much loyalty to the Mother Confessor - the one person that she had been trained to hate as her mortal enemy? One glance at the woman answered her question. Kahlan was a born ruler, a powerful warrior in her own right, and a gorgeous, compassionate woman. She could have appeared in rags and still she would have commanded and ruled as easily as she did in her regal white dress. In her traveling leathers she looked like the Queen of War. Which she is, Cara's mind again supplied, tempered by duty and … compassion.
* * *
The town of Timberline was aptly named; it was on the very edge of the forest, before the terrain gave way to the arid, rocky landscape of the desert. This would be the last town they would encounter until after they had crossed two days worth of Wilds wasteland to enter the territory of Renwold. They could have taken a slightly different route and added a week onto their travels, but Kahlan had wanted to get to Renwold as soon as possible. Having to travel on foot was certainly slowing them down, but the Confessor was resolved to go forward. Richard and Zedd would catch up with them in a town just inside the border.
Kahlan fumed the entire way. She was enraged that Richard would not only suggest that she put off investigating reports of an army invading her land, harming her people, but that she would risk weakening her powers at a time when they were needed the most. And for such selfish reasons, she inwardly ranted. She knew her feelings for Richard had subtly begun to change as their mission to stop the Keeper had ended, but even before there would not have been the slightest hesitation in her decision, nor should Richard have ever expected there to be.
“Come with me.” Richard had asked, his hand stretched out to her, brown eyes sparkling. She knew why he had asked. In the Divide, she wouldn't be able to use her powers, thus couldn't Confess him if they consummated their relationship. She had just stared at him. Richard had interpreted her searching look as consideration. “It's only for a few days, then we can all go together to Renwold to help your people.” He eased closer with a warm smile.
Cara had looked on their confrontation with stunned surprise, which is to say her eyes widened and a sneer touched her lips. The look she gave Richard suggested he had just done something supremely stupid. It was as disrespectful of an expression as she had ever shot the Lord Rahl's way.
Kahlan recoiled from his outstretched hand in shock unable to speak for a long moment. “Richard, have you lost your mind?” She had shouted in his face, rage flooding her. “I'm the Mother Confessor. I have a duty to the people of the Midlands as their ruler and as the highest authority in the land as a Confessor. I can't risk weakening my power right now anymore than I can ignore my duty to my people. You have no idea how long it will take to resolve the situation with the D'Harans.”
Anger flared in his brown eyes. “Zedd said the weakening of your powers wouldn't be permanent, and it's only for a few days. We can leave the Sword of Truth with Cara, and then we can go to the D'Haran camp.” He crossed his arms, his raptor gaze that of the Seeker who believed he had clearly worked out the solution to a problem. “You'll have a contingent of D'Harans to help.”
His mouth had twisted at the mention of the D'Harans. It was subtle, but it was clear to a Confessor that could read the truth. Kahlan knew he was very reluctant to do anything at all until the Mother Confessor had reminded him that despite what he wanted, he was the Lord Rahl and it was his duty to see to his people. It was then that she had realized it was only the mention of the Divide that had caused him to relent. It stung her that it wasn't duty, but rather selfishness that ultimately drove him to do the right thing. It also disappointed her, and reminded her of just one more reason her feelings toward him had chilled; as the Seeker, it was easy to see him as duty-bound. As the Lord Rahl, ruler of D'Hara, whom they would need to fight the coming battles, he seemed so unwilling.
“So you would have me risk weakening my powers, but not the Sword of Truth?” She asked quietly, her face frozen in the mask of the Mother Confessor. “Richard, what you are asking of me is something that I cannot do - something I will not do. Go with Zedd, we will meet you in Duskwood.” With that she turned her back on the Seeker and marched away. The look of satisfaction on Cara's face as the Mord'Sith helped Kahlan make preparations to leave had not been lost to the Mother Confessor. At least Cara had understood; Zedd would have, too, had he not been off investigating the Divide.
Richard had tried to apologize to Kahlan as he placed the Sword of Truth in her capable hands, but she had just looked at him, knowing her face was carefully schooled into the dispassionate face of the Mother Confessor. She had slipped the baldric over her head, merely said, “Take care, Seeker, and listen to Zedd's counsel.”
Richard had ordered Cara to protect and obey Kahlan, and the Mord'Sith had merely nodded. Kahlan then heard them converse in soft words, but she could not make out what it had been. When she glanced back briefly at Richard, there was a look of regret on his face. His look of regret couldn't penetrate the anger she felt enough to give him more than a nod of farewell.
* * *
Cara secured their lodging in Timberline, so that the residents would not know it was the Mother Confessor in their midst. Lord Rahl would be able to find a Mord'Sith, and another woman; they didn't need to announce to everyone that the Mother Confessor herself was there. Protect her as you protect me. Lord Rahl's order had been clear. It was too great of a temptation for their enemies. Mord'Sith were hardly a common sight, but they were not unprecedented. The Mother Confessor was unprecedented no matter where she went.
Cara had climbed the stairs, and stowed their gear with the advice that the Mother Confessor should stay put and rest, since it was sensible. It had irritated Kahlan. She was not used to hiding who she was, nor was she used to being idle. She had stayed in their room for all of fifteen minutes, pacing around before she left it. She carefully hid the Sword of Truth beneath the mattress of the bed and the ball of frustration in her belly seemed to loosen. With practiced ease she hid daggers about her person before heading for the main hall of the inn. A glass of wine was just what she needed to balance her nerves out.
Kahlan sat at a worn, but clean oak table in the common room with the hood of her cloak up. She had pulled her long hair back in a braid, hiding it in her cloak so as not to call attention to herself nor her station with her long hair. In the Midlands, no one had longer hair than a Confessor, and Kahlan's hair was that of the Mother Confessor. It had pained her to braid it, as though she was denying a part of herself, but she was used to that. She was capable of denying her stature and the ache it caused her bundling up her braid to get a bit of anonymity. It was a comfortable old friend, the way the pain pulled at her.
The table was in the corner, facing the door of the inn so that she could see all that came in or out without being obvious about it. She had stayed here before; the beds were clean and the Innkeeper kept the rougher sorts out. The large bouncer, Moll, wore a cudgel at his waist and he knew how to use it. She sipped on the wine in front of her, attempting to dispel her irritation.
Cara had disappeared an hour ago, claiming that she needed to check for supplies in the town. There hadn't been shouts, screams or commotion so it was a fairly safe bet that the Mord'Sith wasn't in any trouble, but Cara could find trouble nearly as quickly as Richard could. Cara's over-protectiveness bothered her at times, but right now, the lack of her was bothering Kahlan worse. She wanted to take a bath and wasn't willing to be left that vulnerable without the blonde around. After days of traveling, Kahlan felt grime and sweat mingle together like a cloak on her body and she was ready to be rid of it. It was only the two of them, though, and if experience had taught her anything, it was that they needed to be careful.
If Kahlan were honest with herself, she actually missed the company of the Mord'Sith. Her anger at Richard had receded as she and Cara had traveled, each content in their duties. Finally they were in a town where they could enjoy a good meal. The blonde had been more surly than usual over the past few days, and Kahlan had hoped a relaxing dinner and a good night's rest would put the blonde in a better mood.
Just as she was about to get up and attempt to find the blonde, Cara breezed into the inn with her familiar confident strut. The Mord'Sith appeared to be nearly relaxed, or as relaxed as Cara ever got. Kahlan's voice was dry. "I see you've decided to join me again. I'm guessing it didn't occur to you that I wanted a bath, too, since I see you've already had one." Cara just smirked and ordered a wine from the serving girl brusquely.
“The opportunity presented itself, and I didn't want to waste it.” Cara answered smoothly, accepting the wine from the serving girl who had practically run to serve the woman in red leather. Apparently Mord'Sith were just as feared here as they were everywhere else. Cara certainly had presence. “Bring a bath to our room immediately and make sure the water is hot.” She commanded the mousy young woman in a tone hard enough to cut stone.
She then turned green eyes that could only be described as amused to Kahlan's blue ones, and said, “See, now you will get your bath.” She took a healthy sip of her wine, and Kahlan shot her a puzzled look. “What?” The Mord'Sith asked in a slightly harsh tone.
“Well you are certainly in a better mood.” Kahlan eyed her suspiciously. “Maybe I should go have a bath where ever you had one instead. Did you beat someone up on the way here, too?” A fight usually put the Mord'Sith in a better mood.
A slightly arrogant grin covered Cara's face. She cut her eyes back to Kahlan and said in a low voice that caused a shiver to go down the Confessor's spine. “No, I haven't been fighting.” Kahlan waited, expecting more. The Mord'Sith was far from loquacious but judging from the satisfied look on her face, there was certainly more to her good mood than just a bath and supplies.
“Where did you find a bath house in this town? I've been here before but I don't remember them having one. I'd like to visit it before we go.” Kahlan said, attempting to prod the blonde into telling her where she had been.
Cara raised an eyebrow, and got a challenging look in her eyes. “I'm not taking you to a brothel Kahlan. You'll have a bath in the room soon enough.” Kahlan could swear Cara's eyes sparkled a little when the Confessor sputtered into her wine cup. Having spent enough time around Cara, her face truly was expressive when one knew where to look. The Mord'Sith was amused.
Kahlan's mouth was dry and she took a deep drink of her wine. Before her better judgment took hold, she blurted the first question that came to her mind. “What were you doing in a brothel, Cara?” Her voice was a little higher than normal, and she felt a blush creep up in her cheeks.
Cara, for her part, was rather enjoying the brunette's discomfiture. She cocked an eyebrow and looked Kahlan straight in the eye. “What everyone else does in a brothel.” The wicked smirk she delivered as she said it, drew out the syllables and drank of her wine spoke volumes.
“They have men in the brothel, too?” Kahlan asked genuine curiosity threading her tone, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Cara had gone to a brothel for … what everyone else did in a brothel. Not that Kahlan had ever been in a brothel before, nor was it ever likely she would be.
Cara just looked at her. “As customers, yes, but I certainly didn't go there for a man.” Kahlan opened her mouth, but Cara forestalled the next comment that she knew was coming. “Surely you are aware that a woman can take her pleasure with another woman.” Her tone was arch, and she cocked an eyebrow over eyes that sparkled with challenge.
Kahlan felt a heated blush rise even higher in her cheeks, but was spared coming up with a reply to that when the serving girl came to announce that her bath was ready. Cara looked just as happy that the conversation had come to an end. Before Cara could rise to follow her, Kahlan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Finish your wine. I'm sure you can guard me adequately from here.” As Kahlan hurried away, Cara watched the slim hips sway and felt a bit of disappointment that she wouldn't be in the room with the brunette while she was in the bath, and not entirely for reasons of security.
Kahlan wasn't certain which emotion was running highest in her; embarrassment, excitement or, oddly, jealousy. She had known women that preferred the company of other women, but it hadn't dawned on her until right then that Cara was one of them. Cara was beautiful, and commanded a sensuality that one would have to be blind to miss, but Kahlan had never thought of her in that way before.
For some reason, now it was all that she could think of. Sitting in the warm bath, naked, contemplating Cara taking her pleasure with another woman was bad enough; thankfully the blond had gotten the hint and stayed outside. Naked, with the blond watching her as she thought about Cara taking her pleasure with another woman would have been more than she could manage at the moment.
* * *
Kahlan did not bring up Cara's trip to the brothel again when they had dinner together in the common room and mercifully, the blond had let it go, as well. Cara was less irritable than usual, and the Confessor felt herself responding to the Mord'Sith's lighter demeanor. Cara wasn't ever what one could call cheerful, but she was definitely more relaxed. Kahlan found herself looking at the blond's face, admiring the high cheekbones and full lips. She realized she had been staring when Cara shot her a strange look and announced she was going to bed. Kahlan shook her head and wondered if she'd had too much wine as she followed the Mord'Sith up the stairs to their room.
Kahlan had discovered that what she liked most about staying at an inn during their travels, besides the fact that it was a real bed, was that when she and the Mord'Sith shared a room, they usually shared a bed. When it was cold at night and they made camp, occasionally she would share a blanket with Cara to keep warm, but the Mord'Sith grumbled about it. When they stayed in an inn, and there was only one bed, there was no reason for the blond to argue. Kahlan had discovered that she craved contact; as a Confessor, there were few that welcomed her touch willingly. Slipping into the soft sheets, she rested her head on the pillow, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in days. As she felt Cara slide in beside her and blow out the candle, Kahlan felt herself close to drifting off to sleep.
The Mord'Sith lay in the dark, relaxation taking over her. Her physical needs had been adequately, if not expertly relieved by a tall, short-haired brunette at the brothel, and now she could rest comfortably. She waited until she heard the deep even breathing of the Confessor sleeping. A smile washed over her features in the darkness, and she rolled closer to her, slipping against Kahlan's body softly, draping an arm across Kahlan's waist. Kahlan made a little noise of contentment, pressing her backside firmly against Cara's thighs, and placed a hand on the one at her waist. She stiffened slightly, both at the spike of arousal the movement had caused and because she had thought the Confessor asleep.
“This always feels good, Cara, you are so warm.” The Mord'Sith was startled by the Confessor's gentle statement, and froze. Cara felt a mortified blush rising in her cheeks. She hadn't realized that Kahlan knew that it was often Cara that initiated the contact between them when they shared a bed. “It feels safe having you close to me in a strange place.” The Confessor murmured sleepily, stroking her hip, then pulled Cara's hand more firmly across her waist as she settled into her.
Her nose was buried in the sweet scent of the Confessor's hair, listening to her breathe, her body warm against her own. She forced the arousal down roughly, content to lie there in the moment. There was no watch to wake up for, and no wizard or Lord Rahl to interrupt or worse, witnesses to her weakness for the Confessor's warmth. She could never admit it but she relished it when she spent the night in an inn next to Kahlan. With the gentle acknowledgment that Kahlan felt warm and safe sleeping close to her, the Confessor had absolved Cara the Mord'Sith Protector of the sin of enjoying it. She was not far behind the Confessor in drifting into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, with something suspiciously like a contented smile on her face.
* * *
Kahlan kept finding herself looking at the Mord'Sith - really looking at her. Her full lips, her breasts and the raw sexuality that she so casually displayed. She could swear Cara had caught her perusal a few times, but the blond had said nothing and done little more than flick an eyebrow at her in question. Kahlan tried to continue on as though things were normal, but they weren't. Something had changed inside of her as she began to consider possibilities she had not before.
Cara had not missed the surreptitious glances the Mother Confessor kept sending her way. At first, she thought it was puzzlement, as though the Mord'Sith was something she'd never seen before, but as she caught the blue eyes sliding across her body she realized that it was something else entirely. She felt the burning glances nearly like a touch, never imagining that it would be the Mother Confessor directing such looks her way. She wondered if the dark-haired woman had any idea of the heat her looks were projecting. Considering the shock that had registered in her face when Cara had blithely announced she'd been to a brothel for pleasure with a woman, the Mord'Sith suspected she did not. If the Confessor didn't stop looking at her that way, she was going to need to visit another one soon.
Cara sat down with her back to a rock, having pitched camped, and finally caught dinner as it ran too close to her. She roasted the small rabbit over the flames, and looked over at the Mother Confessor. Kahlan's face was as unreadable as her own had ever been, staring into the fire. Something was clearly on her mind, because the Mother Confessor unconsciously kept stirring the flames, causing sparks to shoot up while an intent look took up residence on her face. The only time Cara saw her do that was when she was deep in thought. She knew that the Confessor had been extremely angry at the Lord Rahl, but she had thought Kahlan was past the brooding stage. The Confessor certainly could hold on to anger far longer than many, but when it passed, she tended to let it go completely.
Cara contemplated what to say to Kahlan to drag her out of her pessimism. Having traveled with the Confessor for this long, Cara found that she could not only read her moods, she found that she purposefully did so. That was also ridiculous, because a Mord'Sith did not go around reading the moods of people other than the Lord Rahl whom they served. Except Cara found she … cared. She cared how Kahlan felt. She struggled to explain to herself that it was because it helped her protect the Mother Confessor better.
The desert grew cold as darkness deepened. The Mord'Sith flicked the blood red cloak around her shoulders, an eye on Kahlan, and an eye into the nothing of darkness. Kahlan's boots shifted in the dust to her bags, and she dug into them, withdrawing a tightly sealed bottle. She opened it, and eyed Cara. Taking a deep drink of it, she shook her head roughly after swallowing, then recapped it. The blue eyes offered a challenge. Cara always felt exhilaration rise in her when Kahlan got that look in her eye.
“Take the chill off?” Kahlan brusquely pressed the bottle into the Mord'Sith's hands, eyes flashing over the cloak Cara had wrapped tighter around herself unconsciously. Had Cara been the sort to flush with embarrassment, she might have. As it stood, she merely cursed herself inwardly. Kahlan had noticed that she was cold, noticed her weakness. Kahlan could handle the cold far better than she withstood the heat; the Mother Confessor was from a land of snow and storms. Cara herself was fine in the glare of the desert sun, but wasn't overly fond of cold.
She raised the bottle, and uncapped it, the scent of alcohol assaulting her nostrils. She held the blue eyes across from her. Cara, for all that she was Mord'Sith, did not drink hard liquor often. She consumed wine - and ale if necessary - but this was not ale or wine; this was very strong liquor. She knew her limits and consuming strong drink was not something she allowed herself to indulge. The challenging stare told her that Kahlan knew this, and was daring her to refuse. She inwardly sighed and brought her lips to the neck of the bottle. She tilted it back to get a throatful as Kahlan had done, and it burned her tongue. She closed her eyes, choking a bit as she downed the stinging liquid, grimacing as she recapped the bottle. She opened her eyes to amused blue ones, and a flash of white teeth in a mouth curved into a full grin.
Kahlan took the bottle back, amusement dancing across her features. “Not used to Aydindril Stout, I see.” Kahlan's voice was almost musical with laughter. Cara glared at her. Kahlan ignored the glare and took another swallow from the bottle, the warmth pleasantly flooding her middle. She had forgotten she had the bottle of liquor at the bottom of her bags until she had found it yesterday. She passed it to the blond who clearly wanted to refuse but took another swig out of sheer Mord'Sith stubbornness.
“No, especially not on watch, Mother Confessor. Alcohol dulls the senses and I am not given to failing in my duties.” The words were harsh and laced with displeasure at Kahlan's mockery. Kahlan rose and packed the bottle away into her bags, and then shifted so that she was close enough to lay a gentle hand on Cara's gloved one. Cara found herself pierced once again by eyes the color of a clear sky.
“Cara.” She said it gently. Her name said in that tone of voice paralyzed the Mord'Sith. Kahlan held her with only her gaze. “In a few days, we are going to be surrounded yet again by duty. We are here, alone, in the middle of nothing.” Kahlan looked away from her, and Cara felt her heart swell at the sight of the regal profile, long dark hair whipping around it.
The Mother Confessor was beautiful. Strength and dedication all etched themselves into her features, but compassion and kindness softened them. She turned back to stare into Cara, taking her gloved hand into both of her own. “If I can't let go here, for just a few moments, I can never let go.” Kahlan said it with a sigh and then let go of her hand, and started moving back to sit on the rock she perched upon.
Something in her voice was sad, and suddenly, Cara realized where Kahlan's earlier melancholy originated. Even this fierce soul had limits, and Kahlan had reached hers. The argument with Richard had affected her, and despite the fact that she did her duty without question, it still weighed on the Mother Confessor's soul. Without even thinking of what she was doing, Cara surged forward catching her before she pulled away, and knelt before her. Whether she had intended to merely take her hand or embrace her, Cara could not say, because halfway to Kahlan, soft lips met hers in a gentle kiss, and suddenly she was lost. Kahlan's hair blew around them as their mouths met.
The lips were soft and warm; shocked she attempted to draw back, stunned that she had taken such a liberty with the Mother Confessor. Strong hands caught her around the shoulders, holding on to her. The kiss deepened, and on pure instinct, she opened her mouth to the one that was on her own. Her tongue surged against Kahlan's, plundering her mouth, tasting the liquor they had both consumed, and the taste of the woman herself. Arousal flooded her, and she wanted nothing more than to take and be taken. She let one hand drift down to Kahlan's waist, pulling the Confessor more tightly against her, and with a shudder, she felt the soft press of breasts against her own through the leather. Lips tore away from hers roughly, shattering the sensation. She felt Kahlan's forehead upon her own.
She opened her eyes to see the Confessor, eyes firmly shut, with an anguished look upon her face. Cara raised a dust-covered, blood-red leather clad hand to stroke her cheek, to reassure her. Kahlan leaned into the touch, but then pulled away.
“I'm sorry - I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that.” Kahlan's words were soft, and her eyes still closed. Her pale cheeks had a flush of pink to them in the firelight. Cara pulled her softly against her chest, and stroked her cheek with her own. She murmured into the shell of Kahlan's ear. A tenderness consumed her; it was a part of her spirit invoked only by the woman in her arms.
“It is alright, Kahlan.” She felt the Confessor shudder. Her own breathing was heavy. Kahlan had sent arrows of desire through her, all converging in her center, all screaming at her to reclaim the dark haired siren's lips and possess the one causing her blood to race. Warm hands stroked up her back through her leather, and Cara involuntarily gasped with want.
“You can let go with me, Kahlan, and you certainly don't need to get me drunk for me to desire you.” It was supposed to be teasing, but it couldn't be, not with the feelings coursing through her. It came out huskily and much more intimately than she had intended.
“I'm sorry Cara.” Kahlan pulled back roughly, embarrassment coloring her pale cheeks, stood and walked ten paces away from her. “I forgot myself.” Kahlan said it so softly, Cara almost wondered if she had really heard it or if it was the wind. Cara's arms were empty, but not as empty as the vacant tone with which Kahlan had spoken. The dust rising around Kahlan's boots was like the dust that the Mother Confessor had shaken from her Mord'Sith heart, causing it to beat and to feel again. There was nothing she could think of to say or do in that moment, but silently she willed her own strength into Kahlan.
(Part 2)