fic: One Moment for a lifetime (1/?) (Cara/Kahlan)
Title: One Moment for a Lifetime (1/?)
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: PG
Warnings: erm...none
Disclaimer: not mine, never mine. just the delusions in my head
A/N: AU, Cara and Kahlan have met before when they were younger.
A/N 2: This was written as synergyfox's christmas present, cos she's insane and puts up with me every day and stupidly said she liked my writing. It will be multi part, but I dunno if the next bit will get done before her birthday
Eyes meet before they have even seen each other. Hearts belong to the other before even this. Across a crowded room a glimpse is caught. Red leather. White cotton. And their fates are sealed.
A name. Acquired from some passing stranger. Spoken softly from each woman’s lips. Falling and not wanting to be caught. This unknown does not need braving. It will be mapped without their knowledge. This is destiny. Fate . What was always meant to be. Though neither knows it yet.
Crowds depart as music fades. This night is over. They will look for each other. Try to catch another glimpse of the other. But this is not their time. Not the time for their love story to flourish. Merely to begin.
***
They will think of the other often. The strange stranger they have never spoken to. Nor of. Minds will drift and pulses quicken. All but a glimpse and their lives are intertwined. Inseparable. Bound by light but strengthened thread.
Each tries to put the other from their mind. Knowing these thoughts are nothing more than fantasy. That these strange flights of fancy may never come to pass. Worlds apart. So different and yet the same. And all each knows is the others name.
They will fail. Minds pulled back to that place. That time. To what could be. Might be. Will be one day. Though they know it not.
Both will go about their lives. Fulfil the roles they are meant to play. Yet each will be distracted in their own way. A constant pull. An unlooked for harness to another life. One lived by another. One not yet lived.
She will ponder the darker things. Dull, but not mar, her pristine soul. The whiteness shall not fade to grey. But it may be tinged with red.
She will hold her hand. When once it would have fallen. A second thought given. Making dark shadows recede to darker places.
***
Birds sing. Leaves fall. Snow covers the ground. Blanketing the land. Covering sins with its virgin grace. Cold in the air does not touch them. Locked up on their towers of marble and granite. Each sequestered. Being raised and taught and shown who they are to become. Made into who they are meant to be. Beaten into the mould they have no option but to fill. All else falls by the wayside. There is nothing but what they are. What they must be.
And still there is a shining light. A faint hope. A point in the darkness each will fix their eyes upon. The one single moment. That brief dalliance with fate. Their thoughts still remain there. May always reside there. Though neither knows why. Neither cares. This last drop of water quenching the thirst of a dying man. Each is the others oasis in the desert of their lives.
***
Time will pass but the thoughts will not. Seasons change. Lives are lived. Days spent in duty. Nights spent alone. And the loneliness is overwhelming. It is felt to their cores. The coldness to the bone. The ache for another. For the other. To hold someone in their arms. To be held in turn.
The dreams consume them long before sleep does. Before it claims them they are lost to the other. In thoughts of lives that cannot be. In memories of a life they long to live, but never will. In dreams of that which they could only glimpse. The impermanence. The transience. Painful but necessary.
***
They will meet. It is how their story goes. How the Creator wrote it long ago. Put the pieces in motion. Unaware of their purpose. Of the outcome and the consequence. But simply move as intended. Neither forced nor hurried. This is how it was always meant to be. How each life was to be played out.
The Creator formed a soul. As she had a thousand times before. Taking it she broke it in half. To each she gave their piece. The light to one. The dark to the other. Made to balance. To complete. To unite the world below her feet.
Their paths set out. Details planned. Both a product of their fates. Destiny’s playthings. But this is how it is meant to be. Supposed to be.
They will meet again. So the fates decide. To allow one more brief shining moment to bare them on. Through their lives. Through suffering. Through death and beyond.
***
Another dance. Another chance encounter. Hearts leap as eyes lock. And they are lost in each other. Across the room each stands. Stock still. Held in the others gaze. Unable to move. Struggling to breathe.
To take that leap. Take that chance. Knowing the impossibilities. Heart and head at war. A thousand reasons why not. One reason why. Each takes that single step forward. The first. The hardest. And they are gone.
Seconds later. Inches from the other. Silent. Words seem unnecessary. Will only complicate this. This simple complexity.
Never breaking eye contact. Blue meld into green. Raising hands in synchronicity. Palms press together. Bolts of energy spread out from the slightest contact of skin. Such undemanding contact. More intimate than any lover. More tender than any kiss. More painful than any weapon.
They are lost to the world. There is only this. There is only them. This moment. This truth. All else forgotten.
Each knows this will not last. Cannot last. This song will end and there will be another. But eventually that too will end. And they will be parted once more. Somehow closer to complete. And yet less so. But that is for later. For another time. Another pair to deal with. For now there is only this. And this will be enough.
The intensity of their gaze could burn down cities. The loudness of their silence deafens those around them. Will not break this spell with words. For they might remind reality they have slipped from its jealous grasp. For this cannot be real. It is too perfect.
The music wears on. Neither knows how long they have been locked like this. It is not important. Only that they are. That is all that matters.
The music quiet in their ears. Almost silent. The room around them a blur. A swirl of colour and nothing else. They are alone in this moment, Only the blue and green of one another’s eyes. The soft pressure of palm against palm. The rhythmic beating of two hearts as one. The world could end and neither would notice. Building crumble around them, they would take no heed.
All thoughts they have shared for so long far from their minds. Their stations and duty long forgotten. Each mind quiets finally. Each heart beating only for the other. Each breath taken merely to get to the next moment. For them to share another revolution. Another second in the others gaze.
Eventually the music dies. Hours or days or seconds later. And they step back. Heads bow reluctantly. Neither wanting this moment to end. The magic to disappear. Unwilling to face reality.
The one in red will take the hand of he one in white. Almost reading the others mind. But not. They simply share the same thought. Just a little longer. A little more time.
They flee the room. Run hand in hand like children. Carefree and reckless. Leaving all else behind. Leaving their real lives behind. They do not stop until they are alone. Standing silently on some vacant balcony. Looking out across the gardens. Braced against the rails; hearts pounding; breathing quickened. Neither speaks a word. There are too many imminent on each tongue. Not enough time to express them all. Not enough words to say everything that must be said.
Instead they turn to one another. Faces inches from each other. Fear and doubt banished. Neither has a place here. This is right. What is meant to be. Supposed to be. Though neither knows this, each feels it in some hidden recess of their minds. Some secret part which whispers softly of possibilities.
And the distance closes slowly. Not hesitance but acknowledgement. This is something special. Something different. Something to be savoured. Remembered.
Blue eyes search green. Tentative. Tender. Lips touch for the first time. Explore for what they fear may be the last. And each gives what the other needs. Takes what they are given. Soft. Simple. Everything and more. A perfect moment in time.
And then it ends. Almost before it has begun they must part. Each knowing they must return to real life. Their separate lives which belong to them. But which they do not desire to live. For this is where they should be. In each other’s arms.
Hearts scream stay. Heads pleading that they leave. This is too much. Too good. If they do not go soon, they may never be able to. The yearning to stay too strong. To lose themselves in the other. Growing with each moment. For this is what each has dreamt of. Longed for. This is where they are meant to be.
One last look. One lingering touch. Just one more moment. And each heart melts. Breaks. Jagged shards which seem to shred their souls. Knowing this could be the last time. This is all they may be allowed.
But this will be their everything.
***
Years pass. Duty becomes them. And each moment pulls them further apart. Silently draws their paths together.
Lives continue. Lived without them. Days pass. Nights wear on. Each moment apart delicious agony. Skin still tingles when they recall their time together. All too brief. Awake from dreams which make their breath hitch. Hearts pound. Life, for a moment, is almost bearable.
Separated by leagues. By ideals and armies. Yet bound by their own truth. Their own heart and souls and dreams.
And yet, eventually, they will think on each other less. Some days entire moments proceed without a thought. Others entire hours. Some nights they wake without the others name upon their lips. But they will remember. And be struck dumb with longing.
Memories fade. As they have want to. Her hair a little longer. Her touch a little rougher. Until that night is all but lost to time. To the history of their lives. The specifics lost. But the feelings remain. The pleasure and the pain.
The seasons change and each takes others to their bed. If not their heart. They come close. But never quite close enough. It is never quite right. Their kiss to hard. Their voice to high. They are simply pale imitations. They are not the one. The one they barely remember. But cannot forget. That should be there beside them. Staring with adoration. But they are not. And neither can ignore the ache inside. Almost forgotten. Ever present. Growing with each moment spent apart.
Kept awake. Haunted by half remembered dreams. Thoughts of memories which might be fantasy. Watching the one they share their bed with. Silently cataloguing what is the same. What is different. The turn of the mouth. The hue of the skin. Set of the jaw. Fullness of breasts.
But the eyes. They cannot be compared. No eyes that colour. That shape. That painfully penetrating. Seeing through everything. Duty. Purpose. False facade. Straight into their heats and soul.
They will try to forget. Try to ignore. Imagine something else. Anything but that. Anything but the other.
And perhaps they will succeed. If only for a moment. From time to time an entire day. Yet they will always return there. To that night. That perfect moment. That life that might have been.
***
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: PG
Warnings: erm...none
Disclaimer: not mine, never mine. just the delusions in my head
A/N: AU, Cara and Kahlan have met before when they were younger.
A/N 2: This was written as synergyfox's christmas present, cos she's insane and puts up with me every day and stupidly said she liked my writing. It will be multi part, but I dunno if the next bit will get done before her birthday
Eyes meet before they have even seen each other. Hearts belong to the other before even this. Across a crowded room a glimpse is caught. Red leather. White cotton. And their fates are sealed.
A name. Acquired from some passing stranger. Spoken softly from each woman’s lips. Falling and not wanting to be caught. This unknown does not need braving. It will be mapped without their knowledge. This is destiny. Fate . What was always meant to be. Though neither knows it yet.
Crowds depart as music fades. This night is over. They will look for each other. Try to catch another glimpse of the other. But this is not their time. Not the time for their love story to flourish. Merely to begin.
***
They will think of the other often. The strange stranger they have never spoken to. Nor of. Minds will drift and pulses quicken. All but a glimpse and their lives are intertwined. Inseparable. Bound by light but strengthened thread.
Each tries to put the other from their mind. Knowing these thoughts are nothing more than fantasy. That these strange flights of fancy may never come to pass. Worlds apart. So different and yet the same. And all each knows is the others name.
They will fail. Minds pulled back to that place. That time. To what could be. Might be. Will be one day. Though they know it not.
Both will go about their lives. Fulfil the roles they are meant to play. Yet each will be distracted in their own way. A constant pull. An unlooked for harness to another life. One lived by another. One not yet lived.
She will ponder the darker things. Dull, but not mar, her pristine soul. The whiteness shall not fade to grey. But it may be tinged with red.
She will hold her hand. When once it would have fallen. A second thought given. Making dark shadows recede to darker places.
***
Birds sing. Leaves fall. Snow covers the ground. Blanketing the land. Covering sins with its virgin grace. Cold in the air does not touch them. Locked up on their towers of marble and granite. Each sequestered. Being raised and taught and shown who they are to become. Made into who they are meant to be. Beaten into the mould they have no option but to fill. All else falls by the wayside. There is nothing but what they are. What they must be.
And still there is a shining light. A faint hope. A point in the darkness each will fix their eyes upon. The one single moment. That brief dalliance with fate. Their thoughts still remain there. May always reside there. Though neither knows why. Neither cares. This last drop of water quenching the thirst of a dying man. Each is the others oasis in the desert of their lives.
***
Time will pass but the thoughts will not. Seasons change. Lives are lived. Days spent in duty. Nights spent alone. And the loneliness is overwhelming. It is felt to their cores. The coldness to the bone. The ache for another. For the other. To hold someone in their arms. To be held in turn.
The dreams consume them long before sleep does. Before it claims them they are lost to the other. In thoughts of lives that cannot be. In memories of a life they long to live, but never will. In dreams of that which they could only glimpse. The impermanence. The transience. Painful but necessary.
***
They will meet. It is how their story goes. How the Creator wrote it long ago. Put the pieces in motion. Unaware of their purpose. Of the outcome and the consequence. But simply move as intended. Neither forced nor hurried. This is how it was always meant to be. How each life was to be played out.
The Creator formed a soul. As she had a thousand times before. Taking it she broke it in half. To each she gave their piece. The light to one. The dark to the other. Made to balance. To complete. To unite the world below her feet.
Their paths set out. Details planned. Both a product of their fates. Destiny’s playthings. But this is how it is meant to be. Supposed to be.
They will meet again. So the fates decide. To allow one more brief shining moment to bare them on. Through their lives. Through suffering. Through death and beyond.
***
Another dance. Another chance encounter. Hearts leap as eyes lock. And they are lost in each other. Across the room each stands. Stock still. Held in the others gaze. Unable to move. Struggling to breathe.
To take that leap. Take that chance. Knowing the impossibilities. Heart and head at war. A thousand reasons why not. One reason why. Each takes that single step forward. The first. The hardest. And they are gone.
Seconds later. Inches from the other. Silent. Words seem unnecessary. Will only complicate this. This simple complexity.
Never breaking eye contact. Blue meld into green. Raising hands in synchronicity. Palms press together. Bolts of energy spread out from the slightest contact of skin. Such undemanding contact. More intimate than any lover. More tender than any kiss. More painful than any weapon.
They are lost to the world. There is only this. There is only them. This moment. This truth. All else forgotten.
Each knows this will not last. Cannot last. This song will end and there will be another. But eventually that too will end. And they will be parted once more. Somehow closer to complete. And yet less so. But that is for later. For another time. Another pair to deal with. For now there is only this. And this will be enough.
The intensity of their gaze could burn down cities. The loudness of their silence deafens those around them. Will not break this spell with words. For they might remind reality they have slipped from its jealous grasp. For this cannot be real. It is too perfect.
The music wears on. Neither knows how long they have been locked like this. It is not important. Only that they are. That is all that matters.
The music quiet in their ears. Almost silent. The room around them a blur. A swirl of colour and nothing else. They are alone in this moment, Only the blue and green of one another’s eyes. The soft pressure of palm against palm. The rhythmic beating of two hearts as one. The world could end and neither would notice. Building crumble around them, they would take no heed.
All thoughts they have shared for so long far from their minds. Their stations and duty long forgotten. Each mind quiets finally. Each heart beating only for the other. Each breath taken merely to get to the next moment. For them to share another revolution. Another second in the others gaze.
Eventually the music dies. Hours or days or seconds later. And they step back. Heads bow reluctantly. Neither wanting this moment to end. The magic to disappear. Unwilling to face reality.
The one in red will take the hand of he one in white. Almost reading the others mind. But not. They simply share the same thought. Just a little longer. A little more time.
They flee the room. Run hand in hand like children. Carefree and reckless. Leaving all else behind. Leaving their real lives behind. They do not stop until they are alone. Standing silently on some vacant balcony. Looking out across the gardens. Braced against the rails; hearts pounding; breathing quickened. Neither speaks a word. There are too many imminent on each tongue. Not enough time to express them all. Not enough words to say everything that must be said.
Instead they turn to one another. Faces inches from each other. Fear and doubt banished. Neither has a place here. This is right. What is meant to be. Supposed to be. Though neither knows this, each feels it in some hidden recess of their minds. Some secret part which whispers softly of possibilities.
And the distance closes slowly. Not hesitance but acknowledgement. This is something special. Something different. Something to be savoured. Remembered.
Blue eyes search green. Tentative. Tender. Lips touch for the first time. Explore for what they fear may be the last. And each gives what the other needs. Takes what they are given. Soft. Simple. Everything and more. A perfect moment in time.
And then it ends. Almost before it has begun they must part. Each knowing they must return to real life. Their separate lives which belong to them. But which they do not desire to live. For this is where they should be. In each other’s arms.
Hearts scream stay. Heads pleading that they leave. This is too much. Too good. If they do not go soon, they may never be able to. The yearning to stay too strong. To lose themselves in the other. Growing with each moment. For this is what each has dreamt of. Longed for. This is where they are meant to be.
One last look. One lingering touch. Just one more moment. And each heart melts. Breaks. Jagged shards which seem to shred their souls. Knowing this could be the last time. This is all they may be allowed.
But this will be their everything.
***
Years pass. Duty becomes them. And each moment pulls them further apart. Silently draws their paths together.
Lives continue. Lived without them. Days pass. Nights wear on. Each moment apart delicious agony. Skin still tingles when they recall their time together. All too brief. Awake from dreams which make their breath hitch. Hearts pound. Life, for a moment, is almost bearable.
Separated by leagues. By ideals and armies. Yet bound by their own truth. Their own heart and souls and dreams.
And yet, eventually, they will think on each other less. Some days entire moments proceed without a thought. Others entire hours. Some nights they wake without the others name upon their lips. But they will remember. And be struck dumb with longing.
Memories fade. As they have want to. Her hair a little longer. Her touch a little rougher. Until that night is all but lost to time. To the history of their lives. The specifics lost. But the feelings remain. The pleasure and the pain.
The seasons change and each takes others to their bed. If not their heart. They come close. But never quite close enough. It is never quite right. Their kiss to hard. Their voice to high. They are simply pale imitations. They are not the one. The one they barely remember. But cannot forget. That should be there beside them. Staring with adoration. But they are not. And neither can ignore the ache inside. Almost forgotten. Ever present. Growing with each moment spent apart.
Kept awake. Haunted by half remembered dreams. Thoughts of memories which might be fantasy. Watching the one they share their bed with. Silently cataloguing what is the same. What is different. The turn of the mouth. The hue of the skin. Set of the jaw. Fullness of breasts.
But the eyes. They cannot be compared. No eyes that colour. That shape. That painfully penetrating. Seeing through everything. Duty. Purpose. False facade. Straight into their heats and soul.
They will try to forget. Try to ignore. Imagine something else. Anything but that. Anything but the other.
And perhaps they will succeed. If only for a moment. From time to time an entire day. Yet they will always return there. To that night. That perfect moment. That life that might have been.
***