[Legend of the Seeker] Pull Your Little Arrows Out (1/2)
Title: Pull Your Little Arrows Out
Author: hibernate
Pairing/character: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: Adult / NC-17
Wordcount: ~13,200 words (in total)
Note: No, I can't believe I wrote >13k words of completely shameless ~forced to share a bed~ fluff either. Much thanks to commoncomitatus for the awesome beta!
Summary: Sharing a bed is really the only rational option.
Also archived on AO3.
It doesn't take long for Cara to realize that being banished to Aydindril is infinitely less torturous when she's relaxed from a good fight and at least a little bit drunk.
Neither is particularly difficult at first; she's been given enough coin to live well, and it takes little effort to encourage men and women in Aydindril's less respectable taverns to take up arms against a Mord'Sith.
Eventually, though, she's makes herself a reputation and it becomes harder to find anyone willing to throw the first punch. And Cara has made a point, since arriving in Aydindril, to not actually instigate any altercation. Starting brawls in taverns is probably the sort of thing that Kahlan would frown on, but surely no one can fault Cara for defending herself.
The fact that no one is willing to do anything to let her defend herself as of late is making her decidedly annoyed. People in the Midlands are supposed to fear and hate the Mord'Sith; this recent apathy seems most inappropriate.
Cara eyes the bottom of her empty mug with displeasure. "Bar keep!" she shouts. She's at a table in one of the darker corners of the tavern, but she can see the bar keep jump in obvious fear as he hears her. Not even that improves her mood much, nor does the fresh mug of ale he puts in front of her with trembling hands.
The thought of more ale does not seem so interesting, suddenly, not in light of other thoughts. She stands up abruptly, eying the inhabitants of the tavern with mistrust one last time, and walks out.
Cara is well-known in the Confessor's Palace, and - after a few glares, some thinly veiled threats, and a variety of less than subtle remarks about the Mother Confessor's displeasure should Cara be denied access - she is let into Kahlan's personal quarters.
"Were you asleep?" Cara asks, surprised by the sight of Kahlan coming out of her bedroom, wearing nothing but a shift and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is tousled and, when she pulls her hand through it, Cara is momentarily distracted by a glimpse of bandages on her arm.
"Yes, Cara, I was asleep," Kahlan says, and there is s certain sharpness to her voice. "I was asleep, because it's the middle of the night."
"Oh." Cara looks out the window at the darkness there. Not that it's of any use - the sun just barely manages to rise in Aydindril this time of the year. "Who can keep track? It's always dark."
Cara nods decisively at the wisdom of her own words. It makes her head spin a little.
Kahlan frowns. "Are you... drunk?"
"Of course not," Cara says.
"You smell like you've bathed in a barrel of ale," Kahlan points out, crossing her arms before her chest.
Uninterested in that particular topic, Cara rolls her eyes, crossing her arms like Kahlan. "Have you heard from Richard and Zedd?"
"Cara..." Kahlan sighs with some exasperation, putting a hand to her forehead. "It's the middle of the night. Is that the only reason why you're here?"
In truth, Cara can't remember exactly why she'd been in such a hurry to see Kahlan. It had seemed really important, but all the reasons for her decision appear to have faded into obscurity.
"You should keep better track of your husband," she says instead. "He has a spectacular talent for getting himself in trouble. Have you forgotten that?"
Abruptly, she turns to leave. Before Cara can exit, though, Kahlan crosses the floor and grabs Cara by the arm, almost pulling her off-balance.
"You don't have to go," Kahlan says. "I've told you, you're welcome to stay at the Palace. I want you to."
Cara shrugs her arm free, glaring at Kahlan. "I don't like it much here," she replies, and then she leaves without another word.
*
The problem is that Richard ordered Cara not to follow him to D'Hara, but he left no other instructions on what she's supposed to do.
A Mord'Sith belongs in D'Hara, by the side of Lord Rahl. Cara thought she had made it entirely clear to him, after the short summer months the four of them spent in Aydindril, that she was more than eager to leave and see him claim the throne that was rightfully his.
Being left in Aydindril is the worst kind of punishment. Sometimes the current Lord Rahl can be so much more cruel than the previous one.
It's very early in the morning when Cara hears the door to her room at the inn open and close with some force.
She fumbles for an agiel as she rolls over on her back, squinting against the light from the window, but it is only Kahlan. Cara relaxes back against the bed. She's in her leathers, laces untied, lying on top of the covers, and it is much too early to be awake. Not so long ago, she would have risen with the sun, but there seems to be little point in doing so anymore.
"Cara, don't you ever think about anyone but yourself?" Kahlan says, voice terse, and it's not what Cara expects at all.
"What?" Cara says, craning her neck to see. Kahlan actually looks somewhat angry, and it catches Cara off-guard. It's been a long time since Kahlan looked at her like that.
Cara sits up, ignoring the way it makes her head hurt. She's become rather used to it.
There's a pair of boots by the bed, and Kahlan is staring straight at them. She may have kicked the owner of the boots out rather harshly after she'd had her fun, but what sort of idiot leaves their boots behind? Cara would very much like to know. She restrains the urge to kick them out of Kahlan's line of vision.
"Do you think I haven't noticed what you've been doing since Richard and Zedd left? Picking fights and--" Kahlan stares at the boots again "--and acting like a child."
"They attacked me first," Cara says.
Kahlan ignores that. "I haven't said anything about it, but enough is enough. Disturbing the Mother Confessor in the middle of the night for no reason is unacceptable. It's time for you to stop
this sulking."
"I'm not sulking," Cara protests. "I'm... biding my time."
Kahlan puts her hands on her hips. "You can 'bide your time' doing something more useful," she tells her. "From now on you're going to have to earn your keep."
"What? Work?"
"Yes, work. Like the rest of us."
"I don't understand," Cara says, looking at Kahlan with confusion. "Do you want me to kill someone for you?"
"Is that the only kind of work you can think of?"
"I'm Mord'Sith!" Cara exclaims. Sometimes she wonders if Kahlan forgets.
Kahlan looks at her with such intensity that Cara almost has to look away. "You are so much more than that," she says, and Cara frowns against the sharp light from the window.
"Why would I want to be anything else?" she asks, baffled by the suggestion.
"I can find something for you to do, if you want."
Cara stands up, quickly tightening her laces. "No," she says, moving to pass Kahlan. "I don't need your help." Walking down the corridor, she calls to Kahlan, "Close the door after you when you leave."
*
These are not concerns that Cara has ever wrestled with before. Perhaps, she thinks, she will leave Aydindril and go south, letting people pay for the use of her skills in a fight. But eventually Richard will let her serve him again - he promised as much - and, when that day comes, Cara does not want to be halfway across the world.
Aydindril is not a place for a Mord'Sith, but for the time being, Cara will put up with it. Luckily, Richard took a Journey Book before he left Aydindril, and has been using it to communicate with Kahlan. Cara suspects that Richard is lying shamelessly about how 'smoothly' things have gone at the People's Palace, but at least he's still alive. It's more than she expected.
When Kahlan comes into her quarters in the Confessor's Palace, Cara is sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace.
"Cara?" Kahlan says with some surprise.
Cara has bathed, and scrubbed and oiled her leathers and boots until they practically shine. Her hair is getting longer, long enough to be tied back, but, after some consideration, she leaves it down. She's grown used to wearing it that way, and until it's long enough to be made into a braid again, that's how it will stay.
Her appearance has not been this tidy since the wedding, and when she stands up, she can tell that Kahlan notices, eying her up and down for a moment.
"You look better," Kahlan says. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said this morning. I know it's been difficult for you."
Cara puts a hand on her hip, smirking. "You'll be glad to hear I have decided on a new mission."
Kahlan smiles back, looking at Cara's hand briefly, before meeting her eyes again. "And what would that be?"
"I borrowed your Journey Book to discuss the matter with Lord Rahl. We agreed that due to current circumstances, my talents are best put to use here. Protecting you."
That makes Kahlan stop smiling. "What?"
"You told me to find something to do."
"That's not what I meant! I have enough guards."
Cara takes a step closer, reaching out to poke Kahlan on the arm. In her Confessor's dress, no bandages are visible, but Cara remembers. She watches impassively as pain fly across Kahlan's face as her hand quickly covers the place Cara touched.
"It's nothing," Kahlan says. "He surprised me, that's all. I killed him myself."
"Lord Rahl did not think it was 'nothing'," Cara says, trying to keep the triumph out of her voice. She's only moderately successful.
"Richard is not here, and he has no authority in Aydindril."
"He has authority over me."
Kahlan glares at her. "The Journey Book is mine, and I don't appreciate you running to Richard behind my back with things that don't concern him."
"Lord Rahl cares for you. You're his wife. One might say it's my duty to inform him of anything that happens to you."
"Yes, I'm sure that is why you told him," Kahlan says sharply.
Cara suspects her smirk might be slightly self-satisfied, but if so, she's earned it.
"Cara," Kahlan says after a few moments of silence, voice exasperated. "Don't you think I can take care of myself?"
"Of course you can," Cara says. "You're one of the best fighters I know."
"Thank you."
"Aside from the Mord'Sith, of course," Cara adds. That brings a small smile back to Kahlan's face, and Cara feels her own lips quirk up in response. "Nevertheless," she continues, "you are the ruler of the Midlands. You have more important things to worry about."
The look Kahlan gives her is suddenly very soft. "All right," she says. "If you want to."
"I don't want to," Cara clarifies. "It's my duty."
"Whatever you say."
*
Cara takes her responsibilities very seriously, and after months without purpose, it seems really important that this task be performed with all her might.
Richard may not have exactly ordered her to do anything, but when Cara had suggested she keep an eye on Kahlan, he had agreed that it seemed wise. Richard isn't like the previous Lord Rahl; sometimes Cara has to work hard to interpret his vague suggestions into orders.
Cara follows Kahlan like a shadow for the rest of the day, and at night, she carefully looks through every nook and cranny of Kahlan's bedroom.
"Any monsters under my bed?" Kahlan asks, as if this is a joke to her. It's highly inappropriate, in Cara's opinion, so she ignores her, positioning herself at the end of Kahlan's bed.
"Oh no," Kahlan says, moving behind her and pushing her by her shoulders up the stairs to the door. "Your room is still there for you. I don't need to be guarded in my bedroom."
Once Cara is on the other side of the door, Kahlan closes it firmly.
Crossing her arms, Cara leans back against the opposite wall, eying the closed door. When Kahlan opens the door in the morning, Cara hasn't moved an inch.
*
After some days, Cara is starting to see a flaw in her plan. If she is to watch Kahlan always, that leaves little time for such things as sleep.
It would only have been a matter of time before she figured out a solution to the problem, of course, if Kahlan hadn't intervened. It is late, and Kahlan is sitting in a chair by the fireplace, reviewing documents. Cara is sitting in a chair next to her, because it is a strategically sound place to keep guard from.
She only leans her head back for a moment, and then Kahlan is nudging her leg with her naked foot. "Are you asleep?"
"Of course not," Cara says, blinking rapidly against the fire.
Kahlan smiles, but then her face turns thoughtful. "Where exactly do you sleep, Cara? I hear your room is unused."
"I don't need very much sleep," Cara says. "I'm Mord'Sith."
"Everyone needs sleep." Kahlan rises from her chair, grabbing Cara's hand and pulling her up. "The room is yours, always," Kahlan says, ushering her towards the stairs. "Go, sleep. You're not going to be much use to me if you're so tired you're falling asleep standing up."
Cara stops at that, turning back towards Kahlan. "You're right," she says, a new plan forming in her head. "I will sleep."
Kahlan smiles cheerfully and squeezes her hand. "Good."
"I will sleep here," Cara announces. "Your bed is big enough for two."
For some reason, it makes Kahlan's cheeks flush pink, as she stares at Cara. "I don't think that's a good idea."
But Cara is set on the idea now. She lets Kahlan's hand go, and walks towards the bed, loosening her laces as she moves. "We've shared a bed before, Mother Confessor. Or were you planning on having other company?"
"Of course not!"
Cara pauses, leathers half-way off her shoulders. "Then what's the problem?" she asks, one hand on her hip, as she awaits Kahlan’s response.
Finally, Kahlan throws her head back, shooting Cara an exasperated look. "If you must."
"I must," Cara says, and slides her leathers off.
Kahlan's face becomes even redder, as she picks up a shift from the bed and throws it at Cara. She rolls her eyes, huffing out another sigh, but pulls it over her head even so. As it slides down over her face, her nose catches the scent of Kahlan's hair. It's not entirely unpleasant.
It's hardly the first time Kahlan has undressed in Cara's presence - they shared rooms sometimes while they were traveling, and they've bathed together in cold lakes and springs - but somehow it seems different. Kahlan turns her back to Cara before changing her Confessor's dress to night clothes. She is just barely hidden behind the drapes of the bed, and when Cara shifts slightly on the bed, tilting her head, the view is very nice indeed.
Cara wonders if this is how Kahlan changed her clothes in front of Richard, with her back turned, or if he would help untie her laces, like a Mord'Sith. When Kahlan turns around, joining her on the bed, Cara does not make a secret of having watched her, giving her an appreciative look that makes Kahlan blush again.
There's been some time (and quite a lot of ale) since they were traveling, but Cara doesn't remember Kahlan's face doing that so frequently before. It looks ridiculous, in a way that makes Cara want to make her do it again.
But Cara is tired, and she feels herself start to drift off as soon as her head is on the pillow. She's almost asleep when she feels Kahlan touch her cheek.
"What?" Cara says, sitting up quickly and eying the room, hand ready to reach for one of her agiels on the night stand.
Kahlan pulls her hand back quickly. "I... I just wanted to say good night."
"Oh," Cara says. "Good night." She turns her back to Kahlan as she settles back on the pillow.
*
Restoring the rule in the Midlands had taken some time, after they closed the Veil and returned to Aydindril. Alferon the Wizard and Dennee had done their best since their brief visit, those months ago, but the Midlands are not like D'Hara, and Cara is not sure the word 'order' would ever be appropriate. Dennee is still traveling, discussing treaties and agreements, leaving Kahlan to handle things from Aydindril. It's an odd form of rule, one Cara is not used to, and one that seems to require much diplomacy. Cara has always found brute force to be more effective.
It's a discussion she's had with Kahlan enough times that Kahlan's forehead scrunches up in annoyance as soon as the subject comes up.
There are two more assassination attempts in the following weeks. One would-be assassin is caught by the two of them while climbing up the balcony during their evening meal, and is quickly dispensed of before she can do anything with the numerous daggers and poisons she has hidden under her clothes.
Once confessed, she speaks of people from the southeastern areas hiring her services, and Cara scoffs.
"It is time that situation is handled," she says, crossing her arms. "Let me take a handful of your Home Guard and I will have it dealt with."
"No," Kahlan says, simply, and when she does not elaborate, Cara frowns deeper.
"Why not?"
"Cara.... it's not that simple."
It is that simple, Cara is sure of it, but people like Kahlan and Richard always want to complicate things that could be easy and straight-forward.
The second time, it happens right under the Home Guard's noses, which is yet another sign of their inexcusable incompetence, in Cara's opinion. Kahlan sits in judgment, another day with an endless line of people seeking audience with the Mother Confessor. It's only chance that has her turning her head to Cara, leaning slightly to the side as she smiles at her, just as a dagger flies through the air, embedding itself in the back of the throne, just inches from Kahlan's head.
Cara responds instantly, and Kahlan is not far behind.
It's a foolish sort of attack with no chance of success. They are three in total; Cara dispenses of one - a woman - on her way towards the door with a harsh blow over the head with her agiels. The next one draws two daggers from inside his shirt as she approaches, but she has no patience for blocking his amateurish waving. There's a stinging along her neck and chest as one of his daggers slashes across her skin during her onslaught; it's unimportant, because moments later he's on his knees, one agiel pressed to the side of his neck.
He screams, and it's a beautiful sound.
The third of them is already on the ground when Cara turns around; Kahlan's boot on his neck and her dagger aimed between his eyes. The guards are pulling the woman Cara knocked down to a standing, though she looks like she's barely conscious.
Cara moves her agiel to the man's chin, pressing upwards, and he screams again as the power of the agiel colors his skin red. She moves the other agiel to his ear, unable to keep a smile from her face.
Of course, Kahlan can always be counted on to ruin Cara's fun. "That's enough, Cara," she says, and Cara has to fight to restrain her instincts.
She's heard it all before, about how torture isn't how Kahlan wants things done, Confession is only used when necessary, and justice is more important than anything. Justice is the sort of vague concept that Kahlan and Richard are both much too fond of, using it as though such a thing were not an impossibility. It is whoever rules that decides what justice is, which makes it as arbitrary as anything, as far as Cara is concerned.
In Kahlan's rooms, Cara bats away Kahlan's hands, walking to the fireplace and back. "Why are people not searched and relieved of their weapons before they enter the hall?"
"The Hall belongs to the people as much as to me," Kahlan says, reaching for Cara once again. "I'll send for a healer for this cut."
"Don't fuss."
Kahlan sighs, keeping Cara's arm in a tight grip, gaze on the wound on her chest. "At least let me stitch it up for you. It'll scar."
"It would not be the first scar I bear."
"Stop being so stubborn." Cara means to protest, but Kahlan continues with a hard, "Sit down," and Cara finds herself complying.
Kahlan hesitates then, hands twitching. "I'll have to... unlace your leather."
"Do whatever you want," Cara snaps, and it brings tension to Kahlan's shoulders, as she moves behind her.
"You shouldn't have been so careless," Kahlan says, pulling hard on her laces. "What if his daggers had been dipped in poison?"
"I didn't want to delay putting my agiel to his neck."
Cara pulls down her leathers, leaving her chest bare. They don't speak while Kahlan cleans her wound and carefully stitches it together. Kahlan's fingers are gentle on her breast, too much so. It's not the way anyone should touch a Mord'Sith, whatever their purpose is. It makes Cara squirm in her chair, and if Kahlan is foolish enough to think it is from pain, Cara has no plans to correct her.
Even after Kahlan is done, her hands linger. "You don't have as many scars as I would have thought."
"There are many ways to use agiels so that they don't leave scars," Cara says, though it's obvious enough that it shouldn't need to be mentioned. "And the Breath of Life heals many things."
"Did you die many times as a Mord'Sith?" Kahlan asks then, face concerned, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her before.
"Enough," Cara says, keeping her answer short. Kahlan's eyes are searching, but she doesn't ask anything more.
"The problem is..." Kahlan says instead. "It's been awhile since there was a Confessor in Aydindril. And there are always those who will see an opportunity for power and take it."
"Weaknesses will always be exploited by lesser people, that's why you eliminate those weaknesses. I could do that for you." Cara tries not to look too eager about it. Eliminating weaknesses happens to be something she quite enjoys.
"No. Stay here, with me." There is something unbearably tender in the look on Kahlan's face, as she lets her hand drop to rest on Cara's. Suddenly she can't stop thinking about Kahlan on her wedding day, and the surprised little sound she'd made when Cara had kissed her.
Kahlan glances down, cheeks turning pink, and for a moment, Cara wonders if Kahlan is looking at her bare breasts. But then Kahlan turns away, running a hand through her hair as she motions for the door. "The Council is assembling. I have to meet with them."
"I will talk to someone about the security in the Hall."
She shoots Kahlan a defiant look, because she knows she will protest. But Kahlan just watches her quietly for a moment. "Do what you think is best," she says, finally, and Cara smirks.
This, she knows.
*
"Does it hurt?"
They are in bed, and Kahlan is annoying Cara with her restlessness, sitting up and leaning against the padded bed post, while Cara lies with her back turned as usual. Kahlan seems to be under the mistaken impression that this is a good time for talking.
"Don't be ridiculous," Cara says sternly, because the idea that a small cut would hurt her is rather insulting.
Kahlan is quiet for a moment then, and Cara wishes, in vain, that Kahlan will just go to sleep.
"Are you still unhappy about being here?" Kahlan says finally, and Cara rolls her eyes, even though Kahlan can't see it.
"When you're keeping me from sleeping, yes," she says.
"I'm glad you decided to stay anyway."
"Where else would I go? Richard forbade me from following him."
With her back turned, Cara can't see Kahlan's face, but listening to her voice is enough for her to imagine her expression perfectly. "But it's not that bad here," Kahlan says, following it with a quiet, "is it?"
Shoulders tense with annoyance, she sighs. "Why are we not sleeping?"
Kahlan suddenly slides closer, knee brushing by Cara's calf. "Do you remember Dunshire?"
On the list of topics Cara least wants to discuss, Dunshire would probably come first.
"No," she says firmly, hoping her tone of voice will sway Kahlan away from the subject. It's been a long time since Dunshire, a year in the spring, and Kahlan has never brought it up before.
Cara should have known she would not be lucky enough to have it stay that way.
"It meant a lot to me," Kahlan says, and it's really not fair of Kahlan to do this now.
"I told you," Cara says, tension spreading throughout her body until every muscle is tight like a spring. "I was delirious from the lack of air. Don't talk about it again."
"It's just... "
That is enough. Cara spins around abruptly, pouncing like a cat to pin Kahlan down to the bed, gripping her shoulders to keep her down. "It's just what? What do you want, Kahlan?"
She means to be imposing, using her superior strength to intimidate Kahlan into ceasing this meaningless back-and-forth conversation about nothing. But pinning Kahlan down on the mattress is too much like things she's barely allowed herself to think about, and between both of their thin night clothes, there is suddenly a great deal of skin on skin.
Kahlan is looking up at her, mouth open, and as their eyes meet, Kahlan licks her lips, making it impossible for Cara not to stare. Suddenly she is very aware of Kahlan's naked thighs between her own, and the soft curve of her breasts, tantalizingly close.
"That is enough talking," she says, and then she rolls off her quickly, shift twisting uncomfortably as she gets tangled up in the covers. Settling on her back, arms crossed, she huffs out an annoyed sigh.
When Kahlan turns to her, inching closer and propping herself up on an elbow, Cara turns her head away. "Let's just sleep," she says.
"Cara," Kahlan whispers, and her face is close enough that Cara can feel her breath on her cheek.
When she still doesn't turn her head to Kahlan, she hears Kahlan sigh, and then strong hands are grabbing the soft material of her shift, just above her breasts, and Cara is forcefully pulled towards Kahlan.
It takes her by surprise. Her hands go to Kahlan's wrists on instinct, but Kahlan is looking at her in a
strange way that seems to drive all other thoughts from Cara's head.
"I want..." Kahlan says, tightening her hands on Cara's shift and taking a deep breath.
For once, Kahlan seems tongue tied.
Then she presses her lips to Cara's, and in Cara's opinion, that is a far superior use of her mouth.
Kahlan pulls back, breathing rapidly, and it's more than Cara needs. Before Kahlan has the time to blink, Cara has her on her back again. "Is this what you want, Kahlan?" Cara asks, challenging her with her entire body.
"I don't know." Arms encircle Cara's waist, hesitating before pulling her closer. "Yes."
The sudden force of her want makes Cara feel dangerously out of control. But, she thinks, there is no reason she shouldn't want this. Kahlan is a beautiful woman and a formidable warrior, and if the Lord Rahl is not there to service his wife, Cara doesn't mind performing that particular duty.
"Does the Mother Confessor always get what she wants in Aydindril?" she asks, and her voice sounds scratchy and raw.
"Yes," Kahlan says, and Cara kisses her with all her force and skill, just like she did on Kahlan's wedding. Hands on her back and neck pull her closer, and she sinks deeper into Kahlan, one leg falling between hers.
Kahlan smells much better than any stranger Cara has amused herself with lately, and the taste of her is almost enough to make her pant. She presses her thigh against Kahlan, and is rewarded with a breathy moan and a delicious arch of her hips. Cara can't seem to stop her own hips from grinding against Kahlan's.
Far too soon, Kahlan pushes her back, one hand on her shoulder. The room seems very quiet, the only sound their quick breaths, mingling in the small distance between their faces.
"I want to, but we can't," Kahlan says, barely a whisper. "My powers would kill you."
Cara scoffs impatiently. "Then keep them under control and tell me when to stop."
"Cara, that's..." There is something like longing on Kahlan's face. She lets a hand run down Cara's arm, and it makes Cara shudder. She buries her face in Kahlan's neck, breathing in the scent of her and tasting her skin.
Kahlan fists her hand in Cara's hair, pressing her closer for a moment, before pulling her head away from her neck. Cara licks her lips, and then Kahlan is kissing her.
"I don't know," Kahlan says between kisses, "it's too big of a risk."
"I have no intention of dying, Confessor," Cara says, pulling back long enough to hold Kahlan's gaze. "Which is why you are going to tell me when to stop and I will."
Kahlan grabs her shift again, pulling Cara closer and kissing her fiercely. There is a part of Cara that wonders if perhaps her reasoning skills are somewhat impaired at the moment, because she's not usually in a hurry to gamble her life for a quick fumble. But it's Kahlan.
Cara can't seem to stop from grinning all of a sudden, and Kahlan actually giggles, which is the silliest sound Cara has ever heard from her. Pulling her shift off in one smooth movement, Cara throws it across the room, and Kahlan stares at her in a way that makes Cara feel too hot to stay still.
"I could write poetry about your hips," Kahlan says, letting her hands slide up to rest on Cara's waist, and Cara smirks.
"Go ahead, they are excellent hips. I will start for you. The perfection of your hips, Mistress Cara, if I may be so crass, is only superseded by the shape of your glorious--"
"That's enough," Kahlan interrupts her.
"Ass, Kahlan," Cara whispers, placing Kahlan's hands on the body part in question. "My ass. It is certainly also worthy of your poetry."
Kahlan blushes, breath hitching as her lips part ever so slightly, and Cara decides that she will make her look like that very often in the future. She lets her mouth and fingers move across Kahlan's body, and it shouldn't affect her so easily, it shouldn't make her feel so perilously close to the edge of something unfamiliar. Kahlan puts her hand Cara's breast, and every part of her thrums. She finds a quick release against Kahlan's thigh, panting into her ear as Kahlan's arms tighten around her. For a moment, the ache below her ribs makes it feel like she can't breathe.
If Kahlan notices, she doesn't say, but even so, Cara is fast to distract her, pulling as many needy noises from her as possible. When Kahlan pushes her away, tensing, the last thing Cara wants is to go anywhere, but she stills, taking a deep breath, and raises her head to look at Kahlan. She's flushed, breathless, and the look on her face is part panic, part lust.
"You have to stop. I can't... " She squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "I'm not going to confess you."
"No, you're not." Grabbing her hand, Cara kisses her palm and sucks her fingers into her mouth for a moment, before placing them between Kahlan's legs. She puts her hand over Kahlan's, moving her fingers like she would have moved her own.
Leaning back against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed, Cara does the same: hand sliding down to her own center. But the view is too great; Cara stills her fingers, not wanting anything to distract her from watching. Seeing Kahlan come undone like this is beyond anything she'd thought she'd have. It makes her hot and impatient again, mouth quirking up in a smile.
"Oh. Oh," Kahlan says when her magic is gone, and Cara looks down on her, not even bothering to hide her amusement.
"Are you all right, Mother Confessor? Maybe I should find you a healer?"
Kahlan sits up to grab Cara's hand, and Cara lets herself be pulled back down. "Can I... touch you?" Kahlan asks, breathless and flushed, and of all the ridiculous questions Kahlan has ever asked her, that must be the silliest.
Cara grabs Kahlan's hand, twisting their fingers together as she guides it between her legs, letting Kahlan feel the wetness there. "Anywhere you want."
*
In the morning, Cara wakes up to Kahlan looking at her, lying on her side with a grin on her face. "Sleep well?"
"I always sleep well," Cara says, voice low as she unabashedly stares at the ample amount of Kahlan's cleavage that's visible above the covers. When she gets out of bed, finding her leathers and sliding them on, Kahlan is still looking at her. Cara takes her time with the laces, as Kahlan's gaze brings a prickling down her spine. She lets her hand graze by one of her agiels, enjoying the sharp jolt of pain.
Kahlan leaves the bed to get dressed then, back turned, and Cara sits down on a chair, legs wide apart, and appreciates the view.
She spends the day hovering behind Kahlan as she sits in judgment, and at night, she gets into bed, back to Kahlan, as usual. Only, this time, it does not take very long before she's greeted by a hand shyly settling on her hip, and Kahlan moving closer.
Cara rolls around, pinning Kahlan down with her body, just like the night before. There's a question on her lips, one she isn't sure how to phrase.
"Is something wrong?" Kahlan asks, and there are few things Cara hates more than when Kahlan gets that look of sympathy and concern on her face.
She makes sure Kahlan is too busy with other things to ask again. Richard is not there, and Cara is very good at what she does. The People's Palace is where she should be, but there are certain upsides to staying in Aydindril, after all.
*
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. Cara knows this, of course, but she had hoped it would be a little longer before the inevitable disaster struck.
The first time, it’s an accident.
After a long morning of meetings concerning particularly petty problems that has even Kahlan looking weary, Cara grabs Kahlan's wrist and practically drags her back to her rooms, pressing her against the side of her desk until she's almost bent over it, and kissing her with single-minded eagerness.
Kahlan shoves back, attempting to turn them over. Cara's hip slides against the desk as she loses balance, and the problem is that Kahlan will always be that little bit taller. Suddenly there is no more desk, and they fall down on the floor, Kahlan on top, laughing in a way that is entirely inappropriate during situations like these.
Flipping them over, Cara leans to the side as she watches Kahlan with raised eyebrows. "Are you done?"
Kahlan laughs some more, covering her face with her hands. When she pulls her hands away, smiling, there is a particular kind of look on her face that Cara isn't sure she likes. She kisses Kahlan to replace it with something better.
With a sigh, Kahlan yields beneath her.
Every time they have done this Cara has pulled away to a safe distance. It's possible the distance has become smaller every time, but she knows better than to touch Kahlan when she is not in control of her magic.
This time, Cara pulls back, hovering close enough to watch Kahlan's face, and it's not until the Confessor magic slams into her that she realizes her mistake. Her knee is nudged against Kahlan's calf, and it doesn't matter that she snatches her leg away instantly.
It fills her up, humming through every part of her, and it's pain and not. For a few heartbeats, the magic makes her shiver as if in a fever, pulling every thought from her head. Intensity gives way to softness, a gentle piercing that makes her chest ache in a way that is as familiar as it is unwelcome. There is something salty and wet in the corner of her mouth, and she wipes it away quickly, hoping to find blood on her hand.
It doesn't kill her. The realization puts her on her feet, and she's halfway across the room, leathers hastily pulled on, in record time.
"Cara?" Kahlan sits up, face still flushed and clothes in disarray. "Don't you want me to...?"
The fact that Kahlan still can't say it would normally make Cara roll her eyes. Now, though, she just utters a clipped, "No."
With a last look on Kahlan, Cara flees.
In the Wizard's keep, she grabs a hold of one of the guards. "Get me the Wizard Alferon," she says, feeling the guard tremble before she lets him go.
She has a terrible suspicion that she's in more trouble than ever.
*
Cara does not come back to Kahlan's quarters until much later.
Kahlan is in bed already, but she rushes up when Cara walks in, even though she's being quiet. "Where have you been?" Kahlan asks, looking wide-eyed and worried.
"It is not your concern where I go," Cara replies tersely.
"That's not what I..." Kahlan crosses her arms, taking a few breaths. "Cara, you haven't left my side for weeks, and then you just disappear. I only wondered, that's all."
Cara looks to the side, saying nothing.
"And what did you do to Alferon? He came to see me before and he was practically shaking. Since when are you interested in magic?"
Instead of answering, Cara takes two quick steps closer until she can push Kahlan backwards and onto the bed. She stares at her for a moment, letting a hand sneak up her thigh, under her night shift.
"Oh," Kahlan says. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to."
Later, when Kahlan pushes her away, moving her hands to replace Cara's mouth between her legs for a final few frantic movements, Cara very deliberately lets her hand graze by Kahlan's knee.
She doesn't die, and she isn't confessed.
That would apparently have been far too easy.
PART TWO >>
Author: hibernate
Pairing/character: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: Adult / NC-17
Wordcount: ~13,200 words (in total)
Note: No, I can't believe I wrote >13k words of completely shameless ~forced to share a bed~ fluff either. Much thanks to commoncomitatus for the awesome beta!
Summary: Sharing a bed is really the only rational option.
Also archived on AO3.
It doesn't take long for Cara to realize that being banished to Aydindril is infinitely less torturous when she's relaxed from a good fight and at least a little bit drunk.
Neither is particularly difficult at first; she's been given enough coin to live well, and it takes little effort to encourage men and women in Aydindril's less respectable taverns to take up arms against a Mord'Sith.
Eventually, though, she's makes herself a reputation and it becomes harder to find anyone willing to throw the first punch. And Cara has made a point, since arriving in Aydindril, to not actually instigate any altercation. Starting brawls in taverns is probably the sort of thing that Kahlan would frown on, but surely no one can fault Cara for defending herself.
The fact that no one is willing to do anything to let her defend herself as of late is making her decidedly annoyed. People in the Midlands are supposed to fear and hate the Mord'Sith; this recent apathy seems most inappropriate.
Cara eyes the bottom of her empty mug with displeasure. "Bar keep!" she shouts. She's at a table in one of the darker corners of the tavern, but she can see the bar keep jump in obvious fear as he hears her. Not even that improves her mood much, nor does the fresh mug of ale he puts in front of her with trembling hands.
The thought of more ale does not seem so interesting, suddenly, not in light of other thoughts. She stands up abruptly, eying the inhabitants of the tavern with mistrust one last time, and walks out.
Cara is well-known in the Confessor's Palace, and - after a few glares, some thinly veiled threats, and a variety of less than subtle remarks about the Mother Confessor's displeasure should Cara be denied access - she is let into Kahlan's personal quarters.
"Were you asleep?" Cara asks, surprised by the sight of Kahlan coming out of her bedroom, wearing nothing but a shift and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair is tousled and, when she pulls her hand through it, Cara is momentarily distracted by a glimpse of bandages on her arm.
"Yes, Cara, I was asleep," Kahlan says, and there is s certain sharpness to her voice. "I was asleep, because it's the middle of the night."
"Oh." Cara looks out the window at the darkness there. Not that it's of any use - the sun just barely manages to rise in Aydindril this time of the year. "Who can keep track? It's always dark."
Cara nods decisively at the wisdom of her own words. It makes her head spin a little.
Kahlan frowns. "Are you... drunk?"
"Of course not," Cara says.
"You smell like you've bathed in a barrel of ale," Kahlan points out, crossing her arms before her chest.
Uninterested in that particular topic, Cara rolls her eyes, crossing her arms like Kahlan. "Have you heard from Richard and Zedd?"
"Cara..." Kahlan sighs with some exasperation, putting a hand to her forehead. "It's the middle of the night. Is that the only reason why you're here?"
In truth, Cara can't remember exactly why she'd been in such a hurry to see Kahlan. It had seemed really important, but all the reasons for her decision appear to have faded into obscurity.
"You should keep better track of your husband," she says instead. "He has a spectacular talent for getting himself in trouble. Have you forgotten that?"
Abruptly, she turns to leave. Before Cara can exit, though, Kahlan crosses the floor and grabs Cara by the arm, almost pulling her off-balance.
"You don't have to go," Kahlan says. "I've told you, you're welcome to stay at the Palace. I want you to."
Cara shrugs her arm free, glaring at Kahlan. "I don't like it much here," she replies, and then she leaves without another word.
*
The problem is that Richard ordered Cara not to follow him to D'Hara, but he left no other instructions on what she's supposed to do.
A Mord'Sith belongs in D'Hara, by the side of Lord Rahl. Cara thought she had made it entirely clear to him, after the short summer months the four of them spent in Aydindril, that she was more than eager to leave and see him claim the throne that was rightfully his.
Being left in Aydindril is the worst kind of punishment. Sometimes the current Lord Rahl can be so much more cruel than the previous one.
It's very early in the morning when Cara hears the door to her room at the inn open and close with some force.
She fumbles for an agiel as she rolls over on her back, squinting against the light from the window, but it is only Kahlan. Cara relaxes back against the bed. She's in her leathers, laces untied, lying on top of the covers, and it is much too early to be awake. Not so long ago, she would have risen with the sun, but there seems to be little point in doing so anymore.
"Cara, don't you ever think about anyone but yourself?" Kahlan says, voice terse, and it's not what Cara expects at all.
"What?" Cara says, craning her neck to see. Kahlan actually looks somewhat angry, and it catches Cara off-guard. It's been a long time since Kahlan looked at her like that.
Cara sits up, ignoring the way it makes her head hurt. She's become rather used to it.
There's a pair of boots by the bed, and Kahlan is staring straight at them. She may have kicked the owner of the boots out rather harshly after she'd had her fun, but what sort of idiot leaves their boots behind? Cara would very much like to know. She restrains the urge to kick them out of Kahlan's line of vision.
"Do you think I haven't noticed what you've been doing since Richard and Zedd left? Picking fights and--" Kahlan stares at the boots again "--and acting like a child."
"They attacked me first," Cara says.
Kahlan ignores that. "I haven't said anything about it, but enough is enough. Disturbing the Mother Confessor in the middle of the night for no reason is unacceptable. It's time for you to stop
this sulking."
"I'm not sulking," Cara protests. "I'm... biding my time."
Kahlan puts her hands on her hips. "You can 'bide your time' doing something more useful," she tells her. "From now on you're going to have to earn your keep."
"What? Work?"
"Yes, work. Like the rest of us."
"I don't understand," Cara says, looking at Kahlan with confusion. "Do you want me to kill someone for you?"
"Is that the only kind of work you can think of?"
"I'm Mord'Sith!" Cara exclaims. Sometimes she wonders if Kahlan forgets.
Kahlan looks at her with such intensity that Cara almost has to look away. "You are so much more than that," she says, and Cara frowns against the sharp light from the window.
"Why would I want to be anything else?" she asks, baffled by the suggestion.
"I can find something for you to do, if you want."
Cara stands up, quickly tightening her laces. "No," she says, moving to pass Kahlan. "I don't need your help." Walking down the corridor, she calls to Kahlan, "Close the door after you when you leave."
*
These are not concerns that Cara has ever wrestled with before. Perhaps, she thinks, she will leave Aydindril and go south, letting people pay for the use of her skills in a fight. But eventually Richard will let her serve him again - he promised as much - and, when that day comes, Cara does not want to be halfway across the world.
Aydindril is not a place for a Mord'Sith, but for the time being, Cara will put up with it. Luckily, Richard took a Journey Book before he left Aydindril, and has been using it to communicate with Kahlan. Cara suspects that Richard is lying shamelessly about how 'smoothly' things have gone at the People's Palace, but at least he's still alive. It's more than she expected.
When Kahlan comes into her quarters in the Confessor's Palace, Cara is sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace.
"Cara?" Kahlan says with some surprise.
Cara has bathed, and scrubbed and oiled her leathers and boots until they practically shine. Her hair is getting longer, long enough to be tied back, but, after some consideration, she leaves it down. She's grown used to wearing it that way, and until it's long enough to be made into a braid again, that's how it will stay.
Her appearance has not been this tidy since the wedding, and when she stands up, she can tell that Kahlan notices, eying her up and down for a moment.
"You look better," Kahlan says. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said this morning. I know it's been difficult for you."
Cara puts a hand on her hip, smirking. "You'll be glad to hear I have decided on a new mission."
Kahlan smiles back, looking at Cara's hand briefly, before meeting her eyes again. "And what would that be?"
"I borrowed your Journey Book to discuss the matter with Lord Rahl. We agreed that due to current circumstances, my talents are best put to use here. Protecting you."
That makes Kahlan stop smiling. "What?"
"You told me to find something to do."
"That's not what I meant! I have enough guards."
Cara takes a step closer, reaching out to poke Kahlan on the arm. In her Confessor's dress, no bandages are visible, but Cara remembers. She watches impassively as pain fly across Kahlan's face as her hand quickly covers the place Cara touched.
"It's nothing," Kahlan says. "He surprised me, that's all. I killed him myself."
"Lord Rahl did not think it was 'nothing'," Cara says, trying to keep the triumph out of her voice. She's only moderately successful.
"Richard is not here, and he has no authority in Aydindril."
"He has authority over me."
Kahlan glares at her. "The Journey Book is mine, and I don't appreciate you running to Richard behind my back with things that don't concern him."
"Lord Rahl cares for you. You're his wife. One might say it's my duty to inform him of anything that happens to you."
"Yes, I'm sure that is why you told him," Kahlan says sharply.
Cara suspects her smirk might be slightly self-satisfied, but if so, she's earned it.
"Cara," Kahlan says after a few moments of silence, voice exasperated. "Don't you think I can take care of myself?"
"Of course you can," Cara says. "You're one of the best fighters I know."
"Thank you."
"Aside from the Mord'Sith, of course," Cara adds. That brings a small smile back to Kahlan's face, and Cara feels her own lips quirk up in response. "Nevertheless," she continues, "you are the ruler of the Midlands. You have more important things to worry about."
The look Kahlan gives her is suddenly very soft. "All right," she says. "If you want to."
"I don't want to," Cara clarifies. "It's my duty."
"Whatever you say."
*
Cara takes her responsibilities very seriously, and after months without purpose, it seems really important that this task be performed with all her might.
Richard may not have exactly ordered her to do anything, but when Cara had suggested she keep an eye on Kahlan, he had agreed that it seemed wise. Richard isn't like the previous Lord Rahl; sometimes Cara has to work hard to interpret his vague suggestions into orders.
Cara follows Kahlan like a shadow for the rest of the day, and at night, she carefully looks through every nook and cranny of Kahlan's bedroom.
"Any monsters under my bed?" Kahlan asks, as if this is a joke to her. It's highly inappropriate, in Cara's opinion, so she ignores her, positioning herself at the end of Kahlan's bed.
"Oh no," Kahlan says, moving behind her and pushing her by her shoulders up the stairs to the door. "Your room is still there for you. I don't need to be guarded in my bedroom."
Once Cara is on the other side of the door, Kahlan closes it firmly.
Crossing her arms, Cara leans back against the opposite wall, eying the closed door. When Kahlan opens the door in the morning, Cara hasn't moved an inch.
*
After some days, Cara is starting to see a flaw in her plan. If she is to watch Kahlan always, that leaves little time for such things as sleep.
It would only have been a matter of time before she figured out a solution to the problem, of course, if Kahlan hadn't intervened. It is late, and Kahlan is sitting in a chair by the fireplace, reviewing documents. Cara is sitting in a chair next to her, because it is a strategically sound place to keep guard from.
She only leans her head back for a moment, and then Kahlan is nudging her leg with her naked foot. "Are you asleep?"
"Of course not," Cara says, blinking rapidly against the fire.
Kahlan smiles, but then her face turns thoughtful. "Where exactly do you sleep, Cara? I hear your room is unused."
"I don't need very much sleep," Cara says. "I'm Mord'Sith."
"Everyone needs sleep." Kahlan rises from her chair, grabbing Cara's hand and pulling her up. "The room is yours, always," Kahlan says, ushering her towards the stairs. "Go, sleep. You're not going to be much use to me if you're so tired you're falling asleep standing up."
Cara stops at that, turning back towards Kahlan. "You're right," she says, a new plan forming in her head. "I will sleep."
Kahlan smiles cheerfully and squeezes her hand. "Good."
"I will sleep here," Cara announces. "Your bed is big enough for two."
For some reason, it makes Kahlan's cheeks flush pink, as she stares at Cara. "I don't think that's a good idea."
But Cara is set on the idea now. She lets Kahlan's hand go, and walks towards the bed, loosening her laces as she moves. "We've shared a bed before, Mother Confessor. Or were you planning on having other company?"
"Of course not!"
Cara pauses, leathers half-way off her shoulders. "Then what's the problem?" she asks, one hand on her hip, as she awaits Kahlan’s response.
Finally, Kahlan throws her head back, shooting Cara an exasperated look. "If you must."
"I must," Cara says, and slides her leathers off.
Kahlan's face becomes even redder, as she picks up a shift from the bed and throws it at Cara. She rolls her eyes, huffing out another sigh, but pulls it over her head even so. As it slides down over her face, her nose catches the scent of Kahlan's hair. It's not entirely unpleasant.
It's hardly the first time Kahlan has undressed in Cara's presence - they shared rooms sometimes while they were traveling, and they've bathed together in cold lakes and springs - but somehow it seems different. Kahlan turns her back to Cara before changing her Confessor's dress to night clothes. She is just barely hidden behind the drapes of the bed, and when Cara shifts slightly on the bed, tilting her head, the view is very nice indeed.
Cara wonders if this is how Kahlan changed her clothes in front of Richard, with her back turned, or if he would help untie her laces, like a Mord'Sith. When Kahlan turns around, joining her on the bed, Cara does not make a secret of having watched her, giving her an appreciative look that makes Kahlan blush again.
There's been some time (and quite a lot of ale) since they were traveling, but Cara doesn't remember Kahlan's face doing that so frequently before. It looks ridiculous, in a way that makes Cara want to make her do it again.
But Cara is tired, and she feels herself start to drift off as soon as her head is on the pillow. She's almost asleep when she feels Kahlan touch her cheek.
"What?" Cara says, sitting up quickly and eying the room, hand ready to reach for one of her agiels on the night stand.
Kahlan pulls her hand back quickly. "I... I just wanted to say good night."
"Oh," Cara says. "Good night." She turns her back to Kahlan as she settles back on the pillow.
*
Restoring the rule in the Midlands had taken some time, after they closed the Veil and returned to Aydindril. Alferon the Wizard and Dennee had done their best since their brief visit, those months ago, but the Midlands are not like D'Hara, and Cara is not sure the word 'order' would ever be appropriate. Dennee is still traveling, discussing treaties and agreements, leaving Kahlan to handle things from Aydindril. It's an odd form of rule, one Cara is not used to, and one that seems to require much diplomacy. Cara has always found brute force to be more effective.
It's a discussion she's had with Kahlan enough times that Kahlan's forehead scrunches up in annoyance as soon as the subject comes up.
There are two more assassination attempts in the following weeks. One would-be assassin is caught by the two of them while climbing up the balcony during their evening meal, and is quickly dispensed of before she can do anything with the numerous daggers and poisons she has hidden under her clothes.
Once confessed, she speaks of people from the southeastern areas hiring her services, and Cara scoffs.
"It is time that situation is handled," she says, crossing her arms. "Let me take a handful of your Home Guard and I will have it dealt with."
"No," Kahlan says, simply, and when she does not elaborate, Cara frowns deeper.
"Why not?"
"Cara.... it's not that simple."
It is that simple, Cara is sure of it, but people like Kahlan and Richard always want to complicate things that could be easy and straight-forward.
The second time, it happens right under the Home Guard's noses, which is yet another sign of their inexcusable incompetence, in Cara's opinion. Kahlan sits in judgment, another day with an endless line of people seeking audience with the Mother Confessor. It's only chance that has her turning her head to Cara, leaning slightly to the side as she smiles at her, just as a dagger flies through the air, embedding itself in the back of the throne, just inches from Kahlan's head.
Cara responds instantly, and Kahlan is not far behind.
It's a foolish sort of attack with no chance of success. They are three in total; Cara dispenses of one - a woman - on her way towards the door with a harsh blow over the head with her agiels. The next one draws two daggers from inside his shirt as she approaches, but she has no patience for blocking his amateurish waving. There's a stinging along her neck and chest as one of his daggers slashes across her skin during her onslaught; it's unimportant, because moments later he's on his knees, one agiel pressed to the side of his neck.
He screams, and it's a beautiful sound.
The third of them is already on the ground when Cara turns around; Kahlan's boot on his neck and her dagger aimed between his eyes. The guards are pulling the woman Cara knocked down to a standing, though she looks like she's barely conscious.
Cara moves her agiel to the man's chin, pressing upwards, and he screams again as the power of the agiel colors his skin red. She moves the other agiel to his ear, unable to keep a smile from her face.
Of course, Kahlan can always be counted on to ruin Cara's fun. "That's enough, Cara," she says, and Cara has to fight to restrain her instincts.
She's heard it all before, about how torture isn't how Kahlan wants things done, Confession is only used when necessary, and justice is more important than anything. Justice is the sort of vague concept that Kahlan and Richard are both much too fond of, using it as though such a thing were not an impossibility. It is whoever rules that decides what justice is, which makes it as arbitrary as anything, as far as Cara is concerned.
In Kahlan's rooms, Cara bats away Kahlan's hands, walking to the fireplace and back. "Why are people not searched and relieved of their weapons before they enter the hall?"
"The Hall belongs to the people as much as to me," Kahlan says, reaching for Cara once again. "I'll send for a healer for this cut."
"Don't fuss."
Kahlan sighs, keeping Cara's arm in a tight grip, gaze on the wound on her chest. "At least let me stitch it up for you. It'll scar."
"It would not be the first scar I bear."
"Stop being so stubborn." Cara means to protest, but Kahlan continues with a hard, "Sit down," and Cara finds herself complying.
Kahlan hesitates then, hands twitching. "I'll have to... unlace your leather."
"Do whatever you want," Cara snaps, and it brings tension to Kahlan's shoulders, as she moves behind her.
"You shouldn't have been so careless," Kahlan says, pulling hard on her laces. "What if his daggers had been dipped in poison?"
"I didn't want to delay putting my agiel to his neck."
Cara pulls down her leathers, leaving her chest bare. They don't speak while Kahlan cleans her wound and carefully stitches it together. Kahlan's fingers are gentle on her breast, too much so. It's not the way anyone should touch a Mord'Sith, whatever their purpose is. It makes Cara squirm in her chair, and if Kahlan is foolish enough to think it is from pain, Cara has no plans to correct her.
Even after Kahlan is done, her hands linger. "You don't have as many scars as I would have thought."
"There are many ways to use agiels so that they don't leave scars," Cara says, though it's obvious enough that it shouldn't need to be mentioned. "And the Breath of Life heals many things."
"Did you die many times as a Mord'Sith?" Kahlan asks then, face concerned, as if the thought hadn't occurred to her before.
"Enough," Cara says, keeping her answer short. Kahlan's eyes are searching, but she doesn't ask anything more.
"The problem is..." Kahlan says instead. "It's been awhile since there was a Confessor in Aydindril. And there are always those who will see an opportunity for power and take it."
"Weaknesses will always be exploited by lesser people, that's why you eliminate those weaknesses. I could do that for you." Cara tries not to look too eager about it. Eliminating weaknesses happens to be something she quite enjoys.
"No. Stay here, with me." There is something unbearably tender in the look on Kahlan's face, as she lets her hand drop to rest on Cara's. Suddenly she can't stop thinking about Kahlan on her wedding day, and the surprised little sound she'd made when Cara had kissed her.
Kahlan glances down, cheeks turning pink, and for a moment, Cara wonders if Kahlan is looking at her bare breasts. But then Kahlan turns away, running a hand through her hair as she motions for the door. "The Council is assembling. I have to meet with them."
"I will talk to someone about the security in the Hall."
She shoots Kahlan a defiant look, because she knows she will protest. But Kahlan just watches her quietly for a moment. "Do what you think is best," she says, finally, and Cara smirks.
This, she knows.
*
"Does it hurt?"
They are in bed, and Kahlan is annoying Cara with her restlessness, sitting up and leaning against the padded bed post, while Cara lies with her back turned as usual. Kahlan seems to be under the mistaken impression that this is a good time for talking.
"Don't be ridiculous," Cara says sternly, because the idea that a small cut would hurt her is rather insulting.
Kahlan is quiet for a moment then, and Cara wishes, in vain, that Kahlan will just go to sleep.
"Are you still unhappy about being here?" Kahlan says finally, and Cara rolls her eyes, even though Kahlan can't see it.
"When you're keeping me from sleeping, yes," she says.
"I'm glad you decided to stay anyway."
"Where else would I go? Richard forbade me from following him."
With her back turned, Cara can't see Kahlan's face, but listening to her voice is enough for her to imagine her expression perfectly. "But it's not that bad here," Kahlan says, following it with a quiet, "is it?"
Shoulders tense with annoyance, she sighs. "Why are we not sleeping?"
Kahlan suddenly slides closer, knee brushing by Cara's calf. "Do you remember Dunshire?"
On the list of topics Cara least wants to discuss, Dunshire would probably come first.
"No," she says firmly, hoping her tone of voice will sway Kahlan away from the subject. It's been a long time since Dunshire, a year in the spring, and Kahlan has never brought it up before.
Cara should have known she would not be lucky enough to have it stay that way.
"It meant a lot to me," Kahlan says, and it's really not fair of Kahlan to do this now.
"I told you," Cara says, tension spreading throughout her body until every muscle is tight like a spring. "I was delirious from the lack of air. Don't talk about it again."
"It's just... "
That is enough. Cara spins around abruptly, pouncing like a cat to pin Kahlan down to the bed, gripping her shoulders to keep her down. "It's just what? What do you want, Kahlan?"
She means to be imposing, using her superior strength to intimidate Kahlan into ceasing this meaningless back-and-forth conversation about nothing. But pinning Kahlan down on the mattress is too much like things she's barely allowed herself to think about, and between both of their thin night clothes, there is suddenly a great deal of skin on skin.
Kahlan is looking up at her, mouth open, and as their eyes meet, Kahlan licks her lips, making it impossible for Cara not to stare. Suddenly she is very aware of Kahlan's naked thighs between her own, and the soft curve of her breasts, tantalizingly close.
"That is enough talking," she says, and then she rolls off her quickly, shift twisting uncomfortably as she gets tangled up in the covers. Settling on her back, arms crossed, she huffs out an annoyed sigh.
When Kahlan turns to her, inching closer and propping herself up on an elbow, Cara turns her head away. "Let's just sleep," she says.
"Cara," Kahlan whispers, and her face is close enough that Cara can feel her breath on her cheek.
When she still doesn't turn her head to Kahlan, she hears Kahlan sigh, and then strong hands are grabbing the soft material of her shift, just above her breasts, and Cara is forcefully pulled towards Kahlan.
It takes her by surprise. Her hands go to Kahlan's wrists on instinct, but Kahlan is looking at her in a
strange way that seems to drive all other thoughts from Cara's head.
"I want..." Kahlan says, tightening her hands on Cara's shift and taking a deep breath.
For once, Kahlan seems tongue tied.
Then she presses her lips to Cara's, and in Cara's opinion, that is a far superior use of her mouth.
Kahlan pulls back, breathing rapidly, and it's more than Cara needs. Before Kahlan has the time to blink, Cara has her on her back again. "Is this what you want, Kahlan?" Cara asks, challenging her with her entire body.
"I don't know." Arms encircle Cara's waist, hesitating before pulling her closer. "Yes."
The sudden force of her want makes Cara feel dangerously out of control. But, she thinks, there is no reason she shouldn't want this. Kahlan is a beautiful woman and a formidable warrior, and if the Lord Rahl is not there to service his wife, Cara doesn't mind performing that particular duty.
"Does the Mother Confessor always get what she wants in Aydindril?" she asks, and her voice sounds scratchy and raw.
"Yes," Kahlan says, and Cara kisses her with all her force and skill, just like she did on Kahlan's wedding. Hands on her back and neck pull her closer, and she sinks deeper into Kahlan, one leg falling between hers.
Kahlan smells much better than any stranger Cara has amused herself with lately, and the taste of her is almost enough to make her pant. She presses her thigh against Kahlan, and is rewarded with a breathy moan and a delicious arch of her hips. Cara can't seem to stop her own hips from grinding against Kahlan's.
Far too soon, Kahlan pushes her back, one hand on her shoulder. The room seems very quiet, the only sound their quick breaths, mingling in the small distance between their faces.
"I want to, but we can't," Kahlan says, barely a whisper. "My powers would kill you."
Cara scoffs impatiently. "Then keep them under control and tell me when to stop."
"Cara, that's..." There is something like longing on Kahlan's face. She lets a hand run down Cara's arm, and it makes Cara shudder. She buries her face in Kahlan's neck, breathing in the scent of her and tasting her skin.
Kahlan fists her hand in Cara's hair, pressing her closer for a moment, before pulling her head away from her neck. Cara licks her lips, and then Kahlan is kissing her.
"I don't know," Kahlan says between kisses, "it's too big of a risk."
"I have no intention of dying, Confessor," Cara says, pulling back long enough to hold Kahlan's gaze. "Which is why you are going to tell me when to stop and I will."
Kahlan grabs her shift again, pulling Cara closer and kissing her fiercely. There is a part of Cara that wonders if perhaps her reasoning skills are somewhat impaired at the moment, because she's not usually in a hurry to gamble her life for a quick fumble. But it's Kahlan.
Cara can't seem to stop from grinning all of a sudden, and Kahlan actually giggles, which is the silliest sound Cara has ever heard from her. Pulling her shift off in one smooth movement, Cara throws it across the room, and Kahlan stares at her in a way that makes Cara feel too hot to stay still.
"I could write poetry about your hips," Kahlan says, letting her hands slide up to rest on Cara's waist, and Cara smirks.
"Go ahead, they are excellent hips. I will start for you. The perfection of your hips, Mistress Cara, if I may be so crass, is only superseded by the shape of your glorious--"
"That's enough," Kahlan interrupts her.
"Ass, Kahlan," Cara whispers, placing Kahlan's hands on the body part in question. "My ass. It is certainly also worthy of your poetry."
Kahlan blushes, breath hitching as her lips part ever so slightly, and Cara decides that she will make her look like that very often in the future. She lets her mouth and fingers move across Kahlan's body, and it shouldn't affect her so easily, it shouldn't make her feel so perilously close to the edge of something unfamiliar. Kahlan puts her hand Cara's breast, and every part of her thrums. She finds a quick release against Kahlan's thigh, panting into her ear as Kahlan's arms tighten around her. For a moment, the ache below her ribs makes it feel like she can't breathe.
If Kahlan notices, she doesn't say, but even so, Cara is fast to distract her, pulling as many needy noises from her as possible. When Kahlan pushes her away, tensing, the last thing Cara wants is to go anywhere, but she stills, taking a deep breath, and raises her head to look at Kahlan. She's flushed, breathless, and the look on her face is part panic, part lust.
"You have to stop. I can't... " She squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "I'm not going to confess you."
"No, you're not." Grabbing her hand, Cara kisses her palm and sucks her fingers into her mouth for a moment, before placing them between Kahlan's legs. She puts her hand over Kahlan's, moving her fingers like she would have moved her own.
Leaning back against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed, Cara does the same: hand sliding down to her own center. But the view is too great; Cara stills her fingers, not wanting anything to distract her from watching. Seeing Kahlan come undone like this is beyond anything she'd thought she'd have. It makes her hot and impatient again, mouth quirking up in a smile.
"Oh. Oh," Kahlan says when her magic is gone, and Cara looks down on her, not even bothering to hide her amusement.
"Are you all right, Mother Confessor? Maybe I should find you a healer?"
Kahlan sits up to grab Cara's hand, and Cara lets herself be pulled back down. "Can I... touch you?" Kahlan asks, breathless and flushed, and of all the ridiculous questions Kahlan has ever asked her, that must be the silliest.
Cara grabs Kahlan's hand, twisting their fingers together as she guides it between her legs, letting Kahlan feel the wetness there. "Anywhere you want."
*
In the morning, Cara wakes up to Kahlan looking at her, lying on her side with a grin on her face. "Sleep well?"
"I always sleep well," Cara says, voice low as she unabashedly stares at the ample amount of Kahlan's cleavage that's visible above the covers. When she gets out of bed, finding her leathers and sliding them on, Kahlan is still looking at her. Cara takes her time with the laces, as Kahlan's gaze brings a prickling down her spine. She lets her hand graze by one of her agiels, enjoying the sharp jolt of pain.
Kahlan leaves the bed to get dressed then, back turned, and Cara sits down on a chair, legs wide apart, and appreciates the view.
She spends the day hovering behind Kahlan as she sits in judgment, and at night, she gets into bed, back to Kahlan, as usual. Only, this time, it does not take very long before she's greeted by a hand shyly settling on her hip, and Kahlan moving closer.
Cara rolls around, pinning Kahlan down with her body, just like the night before. There's a question on her lips, one she isn't sure how to phrase.
"Is something wrong?" Kahlan asks, and there are few things Cara hates more than when Kahlan gets that look of sympathy and concern on her face.
She makes sure Kahlan is too busy with other things to ask again. Richard is not there, and Cara is very good at what she does. The People's Palace is where she should be, but there are certain upsides to staying in Aydindril, after all.
*
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. Cara knows this, of course, but she had hoped it would be a little longer before the inevitable disaster struck.
The first time, it’s an accident.
After a long morning of meetings concerning particularly petty problems that has even Kahlan looking weary, Cara grabs Kahlan's wrist and practically drags her back to her rooms, pressing her against the side of her desk until she's almost bent over it, and kissing her with single-minded eagerness.
Kahlan shoves back, attempting to turn them over. Cara's hip slides against the desk as she loses balance, and the problem is that Kahlan will always be that little bit taller. Suddenly there is no more desk, and they fall down on the floor, Kahlan on top, laughing in a way that is entirely inappropriate during situations like these.
Flipping them over, Cara leans to the side as she watches Kahlan with raised eyebrows. "Are you done?"
Kahlan laughs some more, covering her face with her hands. When she pulls her hands away, smiling, there is a particular kind of look on her face that Cara isn't sure she likes. She kisses Kahlan to replace it with something better.
With a sigh, Kahlan yields beneath her.
Every time they have done this Cara has pulled away to a safe distance. It's possible the distance has become smaller every time, but she knows better than to touch Kahlan when she is not in control of her magic.
This time, Cara pulls back, hovering close enough to watch Kahlan's face, and it's not until the Confessor magic slams into her that she realizes her mistake. Her knee is nudged against Kahlan's calf, and it doesn't matter that she snatches her leg away instantly.
It fills her up, humming through every part of her, and it's pain and not. For a few heartbeats, the magic makes her shiver as if in a fever, pulling every thought from her head. Intensity gives way to softness, a gentle piercing that makes her chest ache in a way that is as familiar as it is unwelcome. There is something salty and wet in the corner of her mouth, and she wipes it away quickly, hoping to find blood on her hand.
It doesn't kill her. The realization puts her on her feet, and she's halfway across the room, leathers hastily pulled on, in record time.
"Cara?" Kahlan sits up, face still flushed and clothes in disarray. "Don't you want me to...?"
The fact that Kahlan still can't say it would normally make Cara roll her eyes. Now, though, she just utters a clipped, "No."
With a last look on Kahlan, Cara flees.
In the Wizard's keep, she grabs a hold of one of the guards. "Get me the Wizard Alferon," she says, feeling the guard tremble before she lets him go.
She has a terrible suspicion that she's in more trouble than ever.
*
Cara does not come back to Kahlan's quarters until much later.
Kahlan is in bed already, but she rushes up when Cara walks in, even though she's being quiet. "Where have you been?" Kahlan asks, looking wide-eyed and worried.
"It is not your concern where I go," Cara replies tersely.
"That's not what I..." Kahlan crosses her arms, taking a few breaths. "Cara, you haven't left my side for weeks, and then you just disappear. I only wondered, that's all."
Cara looks to the side, saying nothing.
"And what did you do to Alferon? He came to see me before and he was practically shaking. Since when are you interested in magic?"
Instead of answering, Cara takes two quick steps closer until she can push Kahlan backwards and onto the bed. She stares at her for a moment, letting a hand sneak up her thigh, under her night shift.
"Oh," Kahlan says. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to."
Later, when Kahlan pushes her away, moving her hands to replace Cara's mouth between her legs for a final few frantic movements, Cara very deliberately lets her hand graze by Kahlan's knee.
She doesn't die, and she isn't confessed.
That would apparently have been far too easy.
PART TWO >>