"They'll Say We're In Love"
SETTING: Five years before the events of Legend of the Seeker.
RATING: M
SUMMARY: Before the betrayal, there was a love story between two Mord-Sith. This is that story.
The corridor was dimly lit with torches, which had been burning since early that morning; this was on account of the lack of windows in the temple. The walls were adorned with crimson, ceiling to floor length tapestries, the granite floors were a charcoal grey to compliment the walls. It smelled, faintly, of leather and fresh linen- an odd combination. The hall was as silent as a grave and it seemed not a soul was passing through on that particular day. That was true until the mid-afternoon, when the sun had just passed its highest point in the sky.
"You're taking me with you, Cara. You can't go out on your own," a fair-skinned Mord-Sith protested, the heels of her boots thunked against the charcoal granite. Her objection was tempered by a huff and a short laugh.
"I've made my decision, Dahlia. I can handle myself," Cara answered simply, attempting to widen her stride and walk faster than her sister Mord-Sith. She was not in the mood for gripes today- especially from Dahlia. Cara knew that she was fully capable of carrying out the mission. She didn't need to drag Dahlia into a fight. Cara knew that, among Sisters of the Agiel, it was like a slap in the face to deny a Mord-Sith a place by your side. However, a nagging feeling led her to believe that Dahlia should stay in the temple that day.
Growing angry, Dahlia caught up with Cara's breakneck speed and pulled her aside. As Dahlia pushed her against the wall, Cara's long, blonde braid hit the tapestry hung there. Dahlia's light blue eyes were on Cara's instantly- the blonde Mord-Sith knew that Dahlia was intent on coming with her just from the way she looked directly at Cara. Dahlia wasn't asking permission to join her, but rather she was simply letting Cara know of her participation in advance. The blonde Mord-Sith knew that she could argue with Dahlia no longer.
"I can't let you go alone. You know I can't," Dahlia told her after a long period of silence between them. Both of their faces were expressionless- the mark of excellent Mord-Sith. "We're stronger when we're together. We guard each other's weaknesses. You know this, Cara."
Cara let out a long sigh; Dahlia was correct, of course. They had grown up together, in the small, D'Haran village of Stowecroft. They were both beautiful, nearly perfect D'Haran girls- blue eyes and, in Cara's case, blonde hair. When they were both taken from their families to become Sisters of the Agiel, Cara and Dahlia protected each other from the evils of the craft, and so they became inseparable. A common phrase between the Mord-Sith of that temple was that to know Cara was to know Dahlia. They were a formidable force alone, that much was indisputable, but together they were virtually unbeatable. It was as if they knew the other's move just before she made it, knew when the other was in danger just as hands were about to come around her throat.
Cara, expressionless as always, turned her eyes to watch Dahlia for a spell. Her gloved hand rose to reach out and touch the soft expanse of Dahlia's face, just to remind her of how warm and gentle it felt. Mord-Sith, spending most of their lives giving themselves up to and controlling pain, were genuinely drawn to the acutely gentle, pleasing parts of life. Cara looked into soft, blue eyes and rolled her full lips together in silent thought.
"I suppose you can take Berdine's place. Her finishing those translations for Lord Rahl is more important than this," Cara drawled and leaned back on the wall before she pulled Dahlia forward. They were as close as women wearing leather could be, with Dahlia leaning on Cara, her hands on the blonde Mord-Sith's shoulders. "We don't leave until nightfall… that gives you time to repay me for my kindness, Mistress." A sly smile overtook Cara's lips. It was a different smirk than the one she normally sported. This smile was just for Dahlia. Cara's hand squeezed down hard on Dahlia's thigh.
"As you wish, Mistress," Dahlia replied, a selfish grin on her lips as she leaned in to roughly kiss her fellow Sister of the Agiel.
They looked divine in their sanguine leather- as beautiful as queens, but as deadly as executioners. As they struck down their enemies, the troop of Mord-Sith believed they had gained the upper hand. After all, no land in the Midlands was as strong as D'Hara. The screams of their agiels howled into the night air, too awful to bear listening to. They granted blow after blow to their enemies, mercilessly cutting down man after man. Killing was second nature to these women- after fucking, nothing came more naturally to them. With Cara and Dahlia leading the massacre, no one could get in their way, not even the famed Seeker of Truth. That is, if he hadn't been killed as an infant in Brennidon. They had another thousand years, give or take, to prove that claim.
Swift, agile, and unforgiving, the Mord-Sith murdered the Keltish officers one by one. The Lord Rahl, as of late, was having issue with the annexation of the province of Kelton into the D'Haran Empire. Force was the only way to get through to people- pain was the only thing every living creature has in common with one another. So, he had sent Cara and her Sisters of the Agiel to deliver a message: Join, or die.
"Behind you!" Dahlia shouted to Cara just as a sword swung over the Mord-Sith's head. The man wielding it was quickly dispatched with a blow to the head and sternum with Cara's agiel. The young Mord-Sith whirled around to catch another solider with her agiel, letting his neck turn a dark purple before snapping his neck and ending his torture. If she had more time, she would have gutted him like the pig he was, but there was more death to be dealt. These Keltish bastards would bend to the rule of D'Hara much like everyone else. Even at the young age of twenty summers, Cara knew the power and prestige of the D'Haran Empire, and she knew the reaches of its just and righteous cause.
As Cara helped Garen, a fellow sister, take another life she heard a short shout of surprise- a feminine one. Cara's head snapped up to watch, helplessly, as Dahlia was run through with a sword. It happened so quickly that Cara hardly recalled it happening at all. What she did remember was sprinting towards Dahlia and the Keltish officer, and tackling the man that was twice her size. She pinned him down and jammed her agiel into his chest and watched him struggle for breath, reveling in the look in his eyes as he wordlessly pleaded for a quick death. Cara was breathing hard over top him, twisting her agiel into him long after he had perished. He hadn't been hard to kill- mortal men were weak. People over the boundary, Mord-Sith had been taught, were weak.
Cara remembered what she had come for and dismounted the fallen cadaver, bending down onto her knees to hold Dahlia's hand. The fight was over, there were only a few men left to kill. Cara had time to hold Dahlia's hand.
"Dahlia…" Cara breathed, her voice thin but strong. She was holding onto the hope that it wasn't so bad, that Dahlia was stronger than a flesh wound. Cara's eyes caught the dark pool of blood on Dahlia's left shoulder. It wasn't her heart- thank the Creator it wasn't through her heart. Dahlia could be healed. There was hope that surely someone could heal the young Mord-Sith. She had so much left to give to the world, so much more to do.
"Cara… I can't feel the pain," Dahlia mumbled, her blue eyes fluttering open and closed. Underneath quick eyelids, her eyes were beginning to cross on account of her losing control. "Is… is it bad?"
Cara vehemently shook her head, her long braid cascading down her shoulder in consequence. "No- you're going to be all right," she assured Dahlia. She squeezed the fellow Mord-Sith's hand before lifting her head to call out for help. Soon, the others were over Dahlia and Cara. Dahlia was beginning to look worse.
"Someone has to be able to heal her… someone must know magic…" Cara thought aloud, frantically searching for a way to save Dahlia. This woman was the world to Cara. Dahlia couldn't die, not like this. Even if the wound wasn't through her heart, they were a long way from the temple. It would take hours to get back.
"Cara," Garen said, pulling the blonde Mord-Sith away from her lover. "There's nothing we can do right now- you know this. We have to take her back with us and hope she… and hope she survives the ride."
Mord-Sith never stumbled, and when they did it was for a serious matter. A Sister of the Agiel in danger was reason enough for Garen to stumble over her words. Cara snapped out of her panicked haze- she knew Garen was right. She nodded and bent back down to push a strand of hair from Dahlia's face. Cara rolled her lips together and watched Dahlia struggling to breath. The strong Mord-Sith was lying on the ground as fresh blood pooled over her wound.
"You're going to make it, Dahlia. You are not going to die on me, not like this." Cara leaned in closer, her lips touching Dahlia's ear. "We're going to die old and toothless in bed, together, remember? I'm not leaving you alone."
That made Dahlia laugh. A bandage was handed to Cara with which she wrapped Dahlia's shoulder. She knew that Dahlia was strong enough to withstand the pain- they had gone through much worse together. Dahlia would make the ride.