Fic - Kiss With a Fist. Cara/Kahlan.
kiss with a fist
She had chanced a glance at her own reflection in a pool of still water earlier that morning and noted the rather impressive looking bruise marring the skin of her left cheek: courtesy of a backhanded embrace delivered by one Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
cara/kahlan - pg (fluff!)
a/n: Just some quick post-Desecrated fluff brought on by me noticing that Cara had a nice sized bruise on her cheek at the end of the episode from Kahlan backhanding her in the tomb. Includes snuggling!
It had been almost a full day since Kahlan and Cara had been freed from the tomb in Dunshire. A full day in which Kahlan had been walking too closely, smiling too broadly, and talking too frequently. She was being so frustratingly friendly that Cara couldn’t get a moment to collect herself, to try and pull herself back together after the acute unraveling she had experienced with the confessor while trapped in that tomb.
It was unsettling to say the least. It made her feel weak. Off balance. She couldn’t even pretend it never happened, because every time she chewed, swallowed, or scowled she was plagued by a dull ache on the side of her face. She had chanced a glance at her own reflection in a pool of still water earlier that morning and noted the rather impressive looking bruise marring the skin of her left cheek: courtesy of a backhanded embrace delivered by one Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
Kahlan annoyingly didn’t have a mark on her.
When they finally stopped for the day to make camp, Cara dropped her pack to the ground and succinctly announced that she would be the one hunting for their dinner that night. She disappeared into the trees before anyone could even offer her assistance. Richard and Kahlan just shrugged at each other and started clearing a place to make a fire.
Cara reappeared about an hour later with an impressive amount of game dangling from her belt. Her expression had returned to that of smug satisfaction, and Kahlan breathed out a private breath of relief at seeing the familiar visage. She had been a little bit worried about the blonde after their ordeal. Her eyes slid down to glance over the bruise dotting her normally rosy cheek, and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty at having been the one to put it there. (And maybe a little bit proud that she had got that shot in at all.)
Richard had insisted that he and Zedd split the night’s watches so the girls could get some rest. Cara had to be ordered to her bedroll in no uncertain terms, and Kahlan followed her grudgingly, laying out her own sleep things only inches from Cara’s. Cara mentally thanked the spirits that she had had the hour-long reprieve of hunting for her own mental health so that Kahlan’s proximity didn’t seem quite as suffocating. Or distracting.
Cara drifted off pretty quickly, just as she normally did. The past twenty four hours finally catching up with her tired body. Kahlan, on the other hand, laid staring at the stars for what seemed like hours before she finally dozed off into a kind of half awake, half asleep state. She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when she came suddenly awake, sweating and gasping for breath. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air had been sucked from her lungs and all she could do was open her mouth wider, trying desperately for a pull of oxygen that just wasn’t there. Her eyes whipped from side to side, taking in her surroundings as her hands fisted in her blankets, panic welling up from her belly. Then she heard a soft sound coming from her right. She stopped moving so she could better hear, and realized someone was calling her name.
“Kahlan,” came the voice again. Kahlan’s wide eyes turned toward the voice to find Cara lying on her side, face soft with sleep, sharply whispering her name. She locked eyes with the blonde and was suddenly able to take a breath. She gulped down the cool air greedily as she let the grip on her blanket release slightly. “Are you alright?” Cara whispered into the space between them.
Kahlan nodded, running a hand through her hair as she tried to steady her breathing. She flopped back down onto her back, breathing in and out, trying to clear the sleepy cobwebs from her head. She figured she must have been dreaming about being back in the tomb. She laid that way for several minutes, just enjoying the flow of air to and from her starving lungs, and then slowly turned her gaze back to the Mord-Sith. Cara was still staring at her. “Sorry,” Kahlan started, “did I wake you?”
Cara decided to ignore her obvious question. “You sounded like you were choking.”
“I think I was dreaming of being back in that tomb. I couldn’t breathe.” She bit her lip, gazing up at the sky. She was having trouble looking Cara in the eyes.
Cara pressed her bruised cheek down against her forearm, feeling the dull ache turn to a throb, remembering Kahlan’s fierce determination not to let her die. She remembered sliding down that wall, gasping for breath as she watched Kahlan do the same. Remembered Kahlan grasping her hand in the last moments before the world reduced itself to a pinprick and then snuffed out all together. Remembered how it helped her feel grounded in reality. Connected to life. Kahlan’s hand was resting face up on the ground in between her own bed roll and Cara’s, and it took Cara only a few moments to decide she should try and see if maybe she could return the gesture.
Her bare fingers tentatively wrapped themselves around Kahlan’s slender ones, squeezing gently. Cara thought Kahlan would turn and look at her in surprise, but instead, she watched as the brunette softly closed her eyes and took a deep, solid breath, and then her face bloomed into a contented smile. Cara could not tear her eyes away from the confessor’s expression. When Kahlan finally turned her head back in Cara’s direction, she was smiling.
Kahlan laced her fingers through Cara’s, letting their joined hands rest easily in the space between their bodies. Cara watched her face openly, suddenly fascinated by the play of emotions she was witnessing. She was pretty sure she’d never been so close to someone’s face for so long without kissing them. Her eyes dipped down to Kahlan’s lips for a fraction of a second at the thought, and she saw them quirk up a bit on one side as blue eyes took notice. “Cara,” Kahlan finally spoke. Cara watched as her lips formed the sound of her name, and then tracked back up to her eyes.
“Yes?”
“Will you lay with me?”
“I am laying with you,” she said absently, somewhat in a daze.
Kahlan rolled her eyes and tugged on Cara’s hand. “I mean closer, on my bedroll. I feel safer when I can feel you next to me.”
Cara looked like she wanted to protest, like there should be some reason why this was categorically a bad idea, but she found that any words of dissension died on her lips before they could be spoken. Finally she lifted her head enough to nod, she was too tired to argue. Plus it would be warmer sleeping next to the other woman for the rest of the night. Wordlessly, Cara untangled her fingers from Kahlan’s and dragged her bedroll to overlap with the edge of the one next to her. Cara wiggled her finger in a turning motion, signaling for Kahlan to turn around. Naturally, Cara would not be the one being cuddled. Kahlan obediently turned over onto her side, hiding a smile, and stretched her body out languidly as Cara slid in behind her. The blonde was stiff behind her, not knowing exactly where to put her hands or legs, so Kahlan grabbed her arm and wrapped it snugly against her middle, forcing Cara to mold her back and thighs to Kahlan’s own.
“You are really warm,” Kahlan breathed out, running her fingertips over Cara’s knuckles. She felt Cara puff a breath against her neck in response.
“Go back to sleep,” Cara whispered. Her voice came out much sweeter than she had intended.
Kahlan hummed softly, closing her eyes. “Goodnight Cara.”
“Goodnight Kahlan,” she whispered into the silky strands of brown hair surrounding her head. It only took a few minutes before Kahlan’s breathing evened out, and Cara’s own eyes drifted shut once again.
It’s a new feeling for Cara, comforting someone. She’s never been asked to hold another person for the express purpose of them feeling safe. If someone had told her a year ago that she, a Mord-Sith, would be under a blanket, wrapped around the Mother Confessor who had asked her to please hold her while she slept, Cara would have laughed in their face and then killed them on the spot. But now…she felt something dangerously close to pleased at being the person Kahlan had asked to comfort her. Cara grinned lopsidedly into the cover of Kahlan’s hair and felt the bruise on her cheek throb gently in response.
Cara had a feeling Kahlan had left more than a superficial mark on her cheek in that tomb. Something that would not be so quick to disappear.
She had chanced a glance at her own reflection in a pool of still water earlier that morning and noted the rather impressive looking bruise marring the skin of her left cheek: courtesy of a backhanded embrace delivered by one Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
cara/kahlan - pg (fluff!)
a/n: Just some quick post-Desecrated fluff brought on by me noticing that Cara had a nice sized bruise on her cheek at the end of the episode from Kahlan backhanding her in the tomb. Includes snuggling!
It had been almost a full day since Kahlan and Cara had been freed from the tomb in Dunshire. A full day in which Kahlan had been walking too closely, smiling too broadly, and talking too frequently. She was being so frustratingly friendly that Cara couldn’t get a moment to collect herself, to try and pull herself back together after the acute unraveling she had experienced with the confessor while trapped in that tomb.
It was unsettling to say the least. It made her feel weak. Off balance. She couldn’t even pretend it never happened, because every time she chewed, swallowed, or scowled she was plagued by a dull ache on the side of her face. She had chanced a glance at her own reflection in a pool of still water earlier that morning and noted the rather impressive looking bruise marring the skin of her left cheek: courtesy of a backhanded embrace delivered by one Mother Confessor of the Midlands.
Kahlan annoyingly didn’t have a mark on her.
When they finally stopped for the day to make camp, Cara dropped her pack to the ground and succinctly announced that she would be the one hunting for their dinner that night. She disappeared into the trees before anyone could even offer her assistance. Richard and Kahlan just shrugged at each other and started clearing a place to make a fire.
Cara reappeared about an hour later with an impressive amount of game dangling from her belt. Her expression had returned to that of smug satisfaction, and Kahlan breathed out a private breath of relief at seeing the familiar visage. She had been a little bit worried about the blonde after their ordeal. Her eyes slid down to glance over the bruise dotting her normally rosy cheek, and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty at having been the one to put it there. (And maybe a little bit proud that she had got that shot in at all.)
Richard had insisted that he and Zedd split the night’s watches so the girls could get some rest. Cara had to be ordered to her bedroll in no uncertain terms, and Kahlan followed her grudgingly, laying out her own sleep things only inches from Cara’s. Cara mentally thanked the spirits that she had had the hour-long reprieve of hunting for her own mental health so that Kahlan’s proximity didn’t seem quite as suffocating. Or distracting.
Cara drifted off pretty quickly, just as she normally did. The past twenty four hours finally catching up with her tired body. Kahlan, on the other hand, laid staring at the stars for what seemed like hours before she finally dozed off into a kind of half awake, half asleep state. She wasn’t aware of how much time had passed when she came suddenly awake, sweating and gasping for breath. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air had been sucked from her lungs and all she could do was open her mouth wider, trying desperately for a pull of oxygen that just wasn’t there. Her eyes whipped from side to side, taking in her surroundings as her hands fisted in her blankets, panic welling up from her belly. Then she heard a soft sound coming from her right. She stopped moving so she could better hear, and realized someone was calling her name.
“Kahlan,” came the voice again. Kahlan’s wide eyes turned toward the voice to find Cara lying on her side, face soft with sleep, sharply whispering her name. She locked eyes with the blonde and was suddenly able to take a breath. She gulped down the cool air greedily as she let the grip on her blanket release slightly. “Are you alright?” Cara whispered into the space between them.
Kahlan nodded, running a hand through her hair as she tried to steady her breathing. She flopped back down onto her back, breathing in and out, trying to clear the sleepy cobwebs from her head. She figured she must have been dreaming about being back in the tomb. She laid that way for several minutes, just enjoying the flow of air to and from her starving lungs, and then slowly turned her gaze back to the Mord-Sith. Cara was still staring at her. “Sorry,” Kahlan started, “did I wake you?”
Cara decided to ignore her obvious question. “You sounded like you were choking.”
“I think I was dreaming of being back in that tomb. I couldn’t breathe.” She bit her lip, gazing up at the sky. She was having trouble looking Cara in the eyes.
Cara pressed her bruised cheek down against her forearm, feeling the dull ache turn to a throb, remembering Kahlan’s fierce determination not to let her die. She remembered sliding down that wall, gasping for breath as she watched Kahlan do the same. Remembered Kahlan grasping her hand in the last moments before the world reduced itself to a pinprick and then snuffed out all together. Remembered how it helped her feel grounded in reality. Connected to life. Kahlan’s hand was resting face up on the ground in between her own bed roll and Cara’s, and it took Cara only a few moments to decide she should try and see if maybe she could return the gesture.
Her bare fingers tentatively wrapped themselves around Kahlan’s slender ones, squeezing gently. Cara thought Kahlan would turn and look at her in surprise, but instead, she watched as the brunette softly closed her eyes and took a deep, solid breath, and then her face bloomed into a contented smile. Cara could not tear her eyes away from the confessor’s expression. When Kahlan finally turned her head back in Cara’s direction, she was smiling.
Kahlan laced her fingers through Cara’s, letting their joined hands rest easily in the space between their bodies. Cara watched her face openly, suddenly fascinated by the play of emotions she was witnessing. She was pretty sure she’d never been so close to someone’s face for so long without kissing them. Her eyes dipped down to Kahlan’s lips for a fraction of a second at the thought, and she saw them quirk up a bit on one side as blue eyes took notice. “Cara,” Kahlan finally spoke. Cara watched as her lips formed the sound of her name, and then tracked back up to her eyes.
“Yes?”
“Will you lay with me?”
“I am laying with you,” she said absently, somewhat in a daze.
Kahlan rolled her eyes and tugged on Cara’s hand. “I mean closer, on my bedroll. I feel safer when I can feel you next to me.”
Cara looked like she wanted to protest, like there should be some reason why this was categorically a bad idea, but she found that any words of dissension died on her lips before they could be spoken. Finally she lifted her head enough to nod, she was too tired to argue. Plus it would be warmer sleeping next to the other woman for the rest of the night. Wordlessly, Cara untangled her fingers from Kahlan’s and dragged her bedroll to overlap with the edge of the one next to her. Cara wiggled her finger in a turning motion, signaling for Kahlan to turn around. Naturally, Cara would not be the one being cuddled. Kahlan obediently turned over onto her side, hiding a smile, and stretched her body out languidly as Cara slid in behind her. The blonde was stiff behind her, not knowing exactly where to put her hands or legs, so Kahlan grabbed her arm and wrapped it snugly against her middle, forcing Cara to mold her back and thighs to Kahlan’s own.
“You are really warm,” Kahlan breathed out, running her fingertips over Cara’s knuckles. She felt Cara puff a breath against her neck in response.
“Go back to sleep,” Cara whispered. Her voice came out much sweeter than she had intended.
Kahlan hummed softly, closing her eyes. “Goodnight Cara.”
“Goodnight Kahlan,” she whispered into the silky strands of brown hair surrounding her head. It only took a few minutes before Kahlan’s breathing evened out, and Cara’s own eyes drifted shut once again.
It’s a new feeling for Cara, comforting someone. She’s never been asked to hold another person for the express purpose of them feeling safe. If someone had told her a year ago that she, a Mord-Sith, would be under a blanket, wrapped around the Mother Confessor who had asked her to please hold her while she slept, Cara would have laughed in their face and then killed them on the spot. But now…she felt something dangerously close to pleased at being the person Kahlan had asked to comfort her. Cara grinned lopsidedly into the cover of Kahlan’s hair and felt the bruise on her cheek throb gently in response.
Cara had a feeling Kahlan had left more than a superficial mark on her cheek in that tomb. Something that would not be so quick to disappear.