Chapter 50 – If truth were an ocean would it fit in the pool of a human mind?

(Verse from the song "Secret life")

When Cara woke up again it was late morning; she had slept for almost an entire day.

Light was annoyingly nudging her eyes and although she wanted to rest a little longer, she finally opened them. Thin lines of gold were seeping through the sheer curtains by the window and picturing bright shapes on the wooden floor. A shy sun was lightening the day and it was for the first time since Cara could remember during her stay at the farm; bad weather had been constant thus far. She moved to sit on the bed and realized that the bandage around her arm had finally been removed. Her fingers felt slightly prickling while her arm was a bit stiff and felt weak. Cara tentatively flexed it then balled and stretched her fingers several times; the stiffness was slowly fading. She smirked satisfied for the arm looked generally in good condition, considering the terrible fracture it suffered. She wondered how Kahlan had managed to fix it so proficiently. How Kahlan had managed to set her back on foot… well not literally, but it was matter of days now, maybe less. How Kahlan had managed to do all the things she did for her... And to her…

Cara's mind floated with glimpses of thoughts and her look absently flew to an indistinct point of the room. She blinked away the haze and her attention focused again on the present. She stared more closely through the window: everywhere it was a white blanket glistening with the sunbeams. The snowfalls were giving a reprieve to the Midlands and that meant that the vacation from the trip to Aydindril was over. That this odd recovering and reflecting period had come to an end. That Kahlan would expect her to take a position and wouldn't be satisfied with Cara's persistence in ignoring her and being unclear about their confused kind of relationship. Cara herself had considerable difficulties at finding appropriate words to define what was between the two of them. The most recent exchanges had cast a brand new perspective on their story…

Cara's period of silence wasn't something planned or a silly tantrum, like Kahlan had accused the day before. After waking up Cara was welcomed from an infernal headache pointedly settled on the side of her head – where she was hit – not to nicely spreading all around, and a weary presence of mind coming and going without her having power over it. The feeling was surprisingly akin to an Agiel planted to the temple; while Mord-Sith weapon's sharp bite invariably led to the victim to pass out in the matter of moments – reaching one single minute would have been a remarkable record and if the contact were to continue the passing out would effortlessly switch into passing away – the pain Cara felt this time was instead somewhat duller, but regrettably long-lasting. The potions Kahlan gave her helped with that constant feeling of being wrung in her head, but they also made her presence even duller and that was the kind of feeling that Cara hated the most. Not being in control both of her body and rationality. Hence keeping her mouth forcibly shut was needed for more than one reason; mental inhibitions altered and need to save strength being on top of the list. And both belonging to a list that Cara cared for keeping secret.

It took some days before the ferocious headache gave her respite and she could regain a good control on her lucidity. Still she kept on having moments of vagueness but it was trifle nowadays, although pretending to be blank was sometimes helpful. Cara had needed to ponder about the things that had occurred in the past weeks and about how to move from now on. And she had needed to do it in silence, bringing into lines things that had become twisted in the time hanging around with the Confessor too closely. Holding the fire too long meant getting burned, this was a lesson that Mord-Sith trainee were repeated pretty often, educated to tell apart when the burn was potentially pleasurable or a danger to deal cautiously with. Confessors invariably meant deadly danger, but Cara had always been one who liked dancing with the fire. It was being consumed with the flame of love that she hadn't envisioned; she had danced and burned bright red in that feeling which she'd never thought would hook her. And she had unexpectedly drawn Kahlan close to her personal space and involved her in the dance, bringing her to burn with her and burn up to a point that Cara would never imagine. Burn with flames of manifold colors.

The day before Cara was taken aback by the Confessor who came for another - umpteenth and unexpected – argument. The Mord-Sith was perfectly fine with going on with the silent exchanges; those helped her at keeping herself in control and still there was so much that she didn't understand and needed to sort out in her head. She was one for action by the way, and pondering had never been a sensible option for her. Neither she believed that pondering an entire lifetime could help her to understand or even only figure the contours of the things she couldn't understand in this matter. Yet trying had looked like the only choice Cara had at that moment. But in spite of her comfortable idle tarrying, Kahlan had suddenly pounced in the room rambling accusations like crazy and provoking her until she made her tell what Cara had kept to herself so far. That Kahlan's breaking her promise had deeply let her down. Being let down smelled annoyingly like weakness in Cara's eyes – and that was one of the reasons why she had been reluctant to admit it to the Confessor - but try as she might to deny that she was being weak in this matter, she couldn't however dispute the deep disappointment simmering low and jagged in her chest about Kahlan's behavior.

It chafed Cara that Kahlan had been so casual with dealing with the child, that she didn't seem to understand the levity of her behavior and that she was even surprised – in spite of all her Confessor renowned empathy and understanding - that Cara was crazy mad about it. But it was more than this. Kahlan, with her unbid initiative, had wasted the perfect finale that Cara had arranged. An honorable death spent to save her companions, preventing Darken Rahl from having the boy back, thereby indirectly saving also Richard, her true Master. Relishing her glory until she was rapturously touching both the climax of loyalty in serving her Lord and the one of the sublime peak of endured pain – with no small amount of inflicted suffering by the way - sounded to Cara like an excellent term to leave the land of the living and a good way to be remembered after her departure. And it would spare everybody from unavoidable and awkward goodbyes. Mord-Sith are meant to serve and give their lives for their Master's luster, there wouldn't be anyone who suspected that she was doing it for other reasons than her duty. Except Cara herself obviously, the only one who knew the truth and was up to ensure that said truth would follow her in the anonymous snowy grave she had planned to be her end.

Then again it was plain – much as Cara wanted to deny it - that she was angry at herself too. For having tossed herself into this complicated situation, for having fought against her feelings – which she hardly even believed she had in first instance - and having lost. She knew that she fell against her will and against every logic; she knew she couldn't be blamed for the unasked way she felt, still she could loathe herself for being so weak and unwittingly unable to overcome the invisible and stranger adversary that was the sentiment gnawing her from inside. Losing was never an option for Cara, but this battle looked impossible to win in ordinary terms; so much so that – obliging to Mord-Sith's special flair for dirty tricks - Cara's stubbornness in getting the best on her inner conflict led her to play the suicidal card to win the other, and somewhat absurdly welcomed, outer fight.

The Confessor should have been pliant to leaving Cara behind, she should have agreed with letting go a woman who had only brought disgrace and complications to her life. But Kahlan and logic were poles apart at times, especially when it came with her silly compassion. Because of it Kahlan had ruined Cara's plan… yet it wasn't compassion – or however not only that and not certainly the primary cause - what had pushed the Confessor to act like she did and Cara's eyes were forcibly opened about Kahlan's reasons. It was more than attraction, more than friendship… it was more than Cara had ever hoped for and far more than she deserved… and remarkably reaching a critical point that was more than Cara wished. The brunette had made sure that the raw emotions she was harboring were dispatched to Cara loud and clear and now that things were said – screamed admittedly - aloud, everything was more concrete. Bemusing and compromising.

And this burned into Cara more than all the rest, but with a different kind of fire. The Cara who she was once would be intrigued from the fact that she managed to bring a gorgeous woman like Kahlan – furthermore a Confessor! - to be over heels and crazily attracted to her. Wasn't Kahlan her Lord's woman, the Cara who she was once would just smugly tease the woman and take pleasure from her, comfortably floating above any feeling and involvement. She'd torture her with longing and lashes in equal measure; she'd make her glow with searing passion, then – after a forceful and violent persuasion to be richly serviced in her lecherous needs, while eking out the pleasure she'd bestow in return and taking care of not quite satiating the dainty prey - she'd leave her behind, just to unpredictably come back and play with her for some more matches of the sweet and beat game. And then it would start all over again, the sweetest torment of hurting in good measure and appeasing just a little bit, then moving away with a legacy of impossible craving left. That was how Cara used to live her long lasting 'relationships' before Kahlan came along.

Now she dreaded what she had done to the Confessor and what could happen with her Lord Rahl. It wasn't fear for what Richard could do to her if he'd find out – she couldn't care less about that - but fear of disappointing her Master. And more than that, of letting down Richard, her friend. Not that it had depended on her if Kahlan came to develop feelings, not that she had tried to enamor the Confessor… but then again how could Cara be sure that she hadn't done anything to have Kahlan? That she had been totally fair in this? And how could Richard not think that Cara had been traitorous? How could he trust her again? And what use had a Mord-Sith without the trust of her Master?

When Cara had first emerged from her unconsciousness in that cottage her eyes had soon met Kahlan's. Cara was still in a haze – the plague of her headache blessedly still asleep with the effect of potions - and not hearing anything of the confused rambling from the Confessor, but a moment of unexpected light heartedness had ensued. They had been just joking and acting merry; it had felt so good… no labels, no roles, no duties. The two of them just behaving like two normal women and Kahlan parading that sparkling smile of hers, that one which always made Cara feel little and yearning and almost forgetting that she was Mord-Sith. Almost embracing her feelings and accepting Kahlan's. But it lasted too short then Cara recalled everything they were and the way they were supposed to act.

The Confessor had always been there close to Cara during her period of unconsciousness, the blonde had known this deed at that moment with unfailing certainty. Cara sensed more than remembered – but with no less assurance – that she had held on to soothing caresses and soft whispers during the harshness of her feverish days. The faint memories, which a good Mord-Sith should have considered embarrassing if not despicable, were instead cherished in some forbidden corner of Cara's heart. Kahlan had been more than close to her all along the time; she was inside of her, in her dreams and thoughts and heart. One of the things Cara had come to terms with in her silent period was that she wasn't capable of getting over the Confessor despite all her efforts. Kahlan was there and always would be, for better or for worse until the end of her days. Being resigned to this knowledge was nothing new to Cara, but lifting her hands in surrender was totally unlike her. Cara's stubborn nature still somehow fought against what had power over her or what she couldn't really comprehend. The new and even more unbelievable notion was that the Confessor wanted the same thing, to be sentimentally bound to Cara. Wanted them to share something that was amiss…

Feelings!

All the problems always revolved around feelings! Feelings make one weak. It was because of feelings that Cara had been unwary and everything had gone awry. Cara had inwardly pledged - while running back to the camp where Kahlan was alone and attacked - that she wouldn't run the risk to let her feelings rule her anymore. Now that the recovering period was over, she was called to strongly hold out her demeanor and her loyalty. It was just matter of constraining the tension a little longer until they'd reach Aydindril and then she could be free to go back where she belonged, in D'Hara. To live the life that she deserved – like a warrior exuding honor and glory, but without the benefit of any prize for herself - fighting with unblemished fealty for her Lord.

She sighed… If only doing so was as easy as saying it… the thread of her resistance was thinning day after day.

"Good morning Cara." Stefan's voice took her by surprise and snapped her head around with wide eyes. She swallowed back a second sigh. Talking about feelings…

Being half deaf was a colossal pain to Cara. Not much because she cared for her health, but because it lessened her warrior qualities. Staring at the window immersed in her thoughts, she hadn't realized that the boy had sneaked beside the bed. Although Cara had noticed in time that he was noticeably good with stealth, she still would normally hear his breathing or small movements. But now, with him approaching from her deaf side she didn't. She mentally appointed to herself to pay more attention to her heard sense and sharpen the skill of her good ear left. Anyway her period of silence was manifestly broken by now, so she thought she might as well reply.

"…'morning." She chewed the greeting, turning her promptly schooled face away from him. Unexpectedly feeling nervous and blaming herself for it. She knew what was upsetting her and she didn't know how to deal with it.

"How do you feel today?" He politely asked.

"Good." She replied flatly with a sideways glance in his direction. Considering her recent period it was more than true, although it still could be said that she had seen better days. An awkward moment of silence ensued and for the first time since weeks Cara was uncomfortable with it. And now…?

"Do you want to eat something?" He asked indicating a tray on the nightstand.

Cara realized at that moment that she was starving. The soup that Kahlan brought for her the day before had remained unconsumed and now her body was protesting for having been neglected just when she needed strength. Like every Mord-Sith she was used to fasting, but now she was in a particularly weak condition – not that she'd ever admit it aloud. At least her stomach wasn't grumbling - unlike Kahlan's usually did – and the Mord-Sith's decorum was safe. She regarded the tray: it was brimming with inviting stuff and Cara's mouth was already watering, but she wanted to keep a composed stance. She grabbed a slice of bread spread with butter and a jam and gave a tentative bite. When her teeth crunched against the brittle surface a sense of pure delight flowed into her mouth. Apparently even the simplest food that that fawning Eliza prepared was scrumptious and even if Cara didn't want to give any satisfaction to the petulant woman, her decorum was instantly overcome from an enthusiastic palate animated with devouring intentions. Zedd would probably consider casting a spell to eliminate Arthur and himself marrying the woman if he'd ever happen to be hosted in that farm, Cara thought with a small chuckle while tossing the last morsel of bread into her mouth.

"It's good isn't it?" Stefan asked with a shy smile.

"… not bad." Cara mumbled gulping down with a frown and grabbing – trying not to be too zealous – an inviting muffin studded with nuts and berries.

When the fragrant flavor exploded in her mouth and the buttery pastry literally melted on her tongue, Cara couldn't suppress a delighted moan. Spirits, Mord-Sith don't care much for what they eat, but Cara couldn't help but think that it was a pity that Eliza was confessed or she may consider to train her and assign her to be her cooking pet. After all refined food was another kind of pleasure...

Cara avidly drank a big cup of warm milk and grabbed an inviting glazed donut, before recalling that the boy was still there looking at her. She dared to sneak a peek at him; maybe she was showing too much enthusiasm. She felt nervous and the breakfast was distracting her. Heck, she was hungry as hell and that food was good as heaven! She was certainly making a fool out of herself. He was staring at her and just quietly smiling. How could he smile at her after what she had done to him?

"Someone's hungry today, huh?" The boy teased her, winking with sudden cheerfulness. Cara's stomach flopped and not because of the food. There was a feeling that was plaguing her regarding the boy and she had needed time to give it a name. Guilt. Something that Mord-Sith weren't at all used to dealing with. And coming to give it a name had brought the realization of another feeling entwined with it, like a cherry joined through the stem to its companion so that when you picked one, you got them both. Shame... Cara didn't like feelings!

"Eliza is an awesome cook." He added rolling his index against his cheek with a wide grin.

"If you say so..." Cara replied with contrived nonchalance. She took a small bite and her mouth was introduced to sweet dough, crispy on the surface and soft inside. Sugar was crunching under her teeth and her tongue rolled around a soft lump aromatic with butter and lemon. She couldn't suppress another delighted moan and her eyes fell closed in a moment of epicurean beatitude.

"Kahlan asked her to do something very special for your breakfast." He chipped in, interrupting her food ecstasy. Cara's throat tightened with tension and she swallowed hard the mouthful; it scraped down her windpipe.

"Nice bid from the Confessor!" She angrily spat with a scowl. The sweet bliss as good as forgotten and there was no hazy afterglow. "Does Kahlan think that I'm an idiot who can be tamed with a pastry? Then maybe tonight a glass of good wine will have her forgiven! I'm a Mord-Sith what the heck, not a Wizard! Does the Confessor think that our Temples are filled with gluttonies instead of chains and whips?!"

"She just wanted you to have a good breakfast…" He tentatively offered, biting back his undoubtedly provocative statement that someone was evidently in a mood that morning.

"Bah, I have no use of a good breakfast! I'd rather prefer that she'd keep her promises." In spite of her declaration Cara took another angry bite and ended up to revel in the exquisiteness, regardless of her pique. Darn, this was a sheer sidetracking! And that fawning Eliza was a more insidious weapon than Cara had thought in first instance. Kahlan was unexpectedly using a dirty trick to obtain pardon, she mused munching the delight and furrowing her eyebrows. She was mad at Kahlan. She wanted to be mad at Kahlan! If only the Confessor hadn't traitorously kissed her before she fell asleep the day before… Cara's lips tingled with nostalgia for Kahlan's to come back there and press. Cara's legs involuntary squeezed under the blanket.

"But you seem to like it pretty much." Stefan raised his eyebrow in the most typical Cara's skeptical expression, disregarding the bigger blonde's irritation and focusing instead on her eloquent body language. Cara's weary state being the undoubted reason for her showing need for nourishment before him so manifestly.

Cara snorted and rolled her eyes. Between the pleasure she had just absently fantasized with Kahlan and the one she was feeling in her mouth, it was a conjure! That food could distract whoever and she thought of using the same trap against the boy. Cara knew that he had a soft spot for sweets and here were waffles, pancakes, tarts and more stuff aplenty for three.

"Do you want something?" She vaguely offered, waving her hand over the viands. If anything he wouldn't talk that much with his mouth filled.

"No thanks, I've already had breakfast." He chuckled. "It's all for you."

"Who does Kahlan think I am? A hippopotamus?!"

Stefan just broke into laughter, holding his tummy and almost doubling over. Cara waited for his guffawing to dampen, nibbling at her pastry until it was finished.

"I don't think she thinks that you're a hippopotamus." He resumed, wiping laughter tears. "But that you're famished yes... by the way you started devouring, it seems that you could even eat the tray!" He finally pointed out what – in regard of her pride - he had politely feigned to be oblivious about.

Cara glared at him and put down the wedge of cake she had just taken.

"Oh no don't hold back, eat it all! Your mood is much better when your tummy is filled."

She narrowed further her eyes at his insolence, something that always bothered and amused her at the same time. "You've come here to place compliments Pinkie, or just to stare at me while I eat?"

"I just want to stay with you." He candidly replied on the spur of the light moment. Briefly relishing having been called in that special way; a nick that Cara gave him and Cara only used. And a clear sign that she - despite the grumpiness she relentlessly displayed - felt now at ease with him. "I've been wanting it so much in the past weeks."

Cara risked choking. She cleared her throat and turned back, staring square at his face. "Why?" She grunted, genuinely wondering.

"You know that... I told you..." He stiffened and blushed a bit, but held her gaze.

"I remember you touched on some nonsense out there in the woods... about you wanting to… ehm stay with me…" She trailed off for a moment, before snapping back to her pique. "Then things happened."

Cara felt the cold dropping on the room and she fidgeted uncomfortably with a tea spoon into the empty cup; her eyes fell down on her lap. That bothersome bubble of guilt swelled so much in her throat that she'd have a hard time to speak if she had the itch – which she downright hadn't! - to add some more words. Most definitely she wasn't used to dealing with feelings! Why he had tried to visit her after she woke up, was a mystery to her. He had to be crazy mad at her; he should have spilled – with that touch of angry impudence and mindless temerity that she knew so well he owned - his disdain to a fallible unfulfilling Mord-Sith.

During her days of sickness she had needed to protect herself with evading him and the guilt that his presence brought to her. Mord-Sith weren't meant for failure and even less for regrets. But now she was doubtlessly regretting the failure she provided to him, abandoning him in the middle of the battle. It bitterly mirrored another deeper and more devastating abandon that he had suffered and – although the boy was purposely kept unwitting from her about that story - from the very same woman. At the same time Cara wasn't regretting of having temporarily left him in the clearing, because acting that way she had saved Kahlan and she couldn't – no matter if she tried – bring herself to regret that she had spared the Confessor a blade through her chest. Try as she might to brush off those regretting feelings - reminding herself that indulging in the mistakes of the past was as pointless as trying to turn back time - she couldn't help but going back over the moment when she found him, tiny and vulnerable and scared to death in the hands of that rude D'Haran. And couldn't help but recall how at that moment her memories had furiously leaped back to that single precious and unforgivable time when she had been allowed to hold him – nothing but a wee helpless bundle – for the briefest of the moments, before her new born baby was painfully snatched from her arms for what she thought was forever. The wave of raw regret and burning anger that she had clamped in her days as a servile Mord-Sith under Darken's thumb had spilled over her as she was witnessing her son in danger. Anger against the damned soldier daring to lay his filthy hands on her precious little one. Against Darken who had sent him and his paltry fellows after Stefan and who tore the child apart from her in the first place. Against herself who had been that stupidly blind to let Darken do so in the same first place and who wouldn't let the evil father close his claws around the child ever again.

The sharp bite of pure ire that caught her there in the clearing in front of the violent soldier charging Stefan – so different from the blood-lusty insurgences of her temper at her times of eager and dutiful Mord-Sith in the service of the evil of Rahl's brothers, yet so similar in its intensity – just bore testament of a deep bond. Deeper than she had ever fathomed could grow into her; a depth that her life-long Mord-Sith training was roaring outraged - and not entirely heeded - to be undoubtedly weakness.

The clink of the tea spoon was beating the time in the pointless attempt to dissimulate the silence, unbearable and pulsing like an alive beast impossible to be tamed, flailing in the room. Cara lifted her look up to Stefan. He always had an easy reply, but now he was unexpectedly quiet and his face was tense with obvious unspoken awkwardness which he was struggling whether spitting out or not.

"I'm sorry." He finally croaked with undisguised difficulty. His eyes sad and his shoulders sagged.

"For what?" She barked.

"Spirits, for everything!" He blurted with as much rudeness; his lashes fluttering fast. Cara assessed him more carefully. His being sorry was nonsensical; he was the injured party not the other way around.

"Everything what?" She barked again. Roughness being the only language she knew when it came to handling with a difficult situation.

"Heck Cara you were almost killed!" He spat angered. He sniffed and wiped his eyes still looking down and struggling to keep himself controlled; fists balled on his lap in a clenching motion. This time it was Cara's turn to raise her eyebrow in puzzlement. The heavy silence stretched again uncomfortably and pulsing, but – because she hadn't the barest idea what to say and didn't even know if there was something that she should say - she waited for him to explain. Finally he dared to gaze at her with gleaming eyes. "And it was all my fault…"

Her jaw dropped as his words sank in and let her dumbstruck. His fault… She felt two opposite instincts surging into her; one of laughing in his face for his complete foolishness and the other of hugging him for reasons that were beyond her range of comprehension, yet reasons strong enough to make her record the feeling. But she disregarded both the absurd instincts in the blink of an eye, for she no longer was an insouciant and offensive Mord-Sith – not when it came to this particular boy at least - but most definitely she wasn't the kind of comforting woman the boy seemed to need. There was a third response that her mind was suggesting and that she was pointlessly trying to ignore had even occurred to her. In another time – not that long time before actually, but now it felt completely wrong to think of acting this way with Stefan - she would have certainly harshly slapped the boy and threatened him to death for saying something that a good Mord-Sith would deem insolent to say the least and blasphemous in its full extent. For even daring to think that a petty child could be the reason of a Mord-Sith fiercely battling and honorably falling. Only the Lord Rahl could claim said pride and whoever else thought that he could glean such a privilege was either a fool or an impertinent who needed to be beaten back to his place. Maybe Stefan was both. Then again Stefan was also a member of the Rahl's house hence his claim wasn't totally astray, even if 'fault' and 'Rahl' were words that rarely stuck together anywhere near D'Hara. But ultimately – Cara mused - slapping the boy would have been the umpteenth display of insincerity, for it was true that his safety was the reason why she almost died. Nonetheless it had been an act of free will from her and anyone's fault had to be related to the business.

"Don't be silly." She curtly offered. "Mord-Sith are trained to fight and if they get killed – which I ensure you is a hard job to get done! - so be it. That's part of the game." She pointedly disregarded his claim and put effort in using a coarse voice that would sweep away his absurd guilt. But her raw tone also betrayed her nervous for the instinctual reactions she was – for different reasons - ashamed of, or couldn't – for different reasons - put into practice.

"It's not a game Cara!" He cried out. "You aren't… expendable!" He spat the last word displaying that disdain and anger that Cara had expected from him before, but addressed in an unexpected way. "Maybe your stupid Lord Richard thinks so, but I don't! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have fought that battle."

"For a Mord-Sith it's an honor to give her life in battle." She proudly asserted. "If you really want someone to blame, then curse Darken Rahl. I promised I'd protect you from him and that's what I…" She trailed off confused; her pride instantly torn to shreds.

I haven't!

The outcry of her conscience echoed in her mind and opened the way to guilt to overwhelm her. She felt her tongue paralyzed sticking on the back of her teeth; words were failing her and her throat was tightened. But every fiber of her being was screaming her to speak aloud her shame. To confess her failure and face his loathing.

"I failed you." She finally breathed out. It wasn't an apology, Cara wasn't really capable of doing that. That was an admission and although Cara wasn't well versed with those either, she felt that she had to be honest with the child now. About that thing at least.

"Are you fooling me?! Heck you beat almost the whole squad alone, what more should you have done?"

"I should have guarded you. I gave my word that I would and I…" She set her jaw in the hardest expression and released her shame through her clenched teeth. "I let go your hand."

"You didn't-"

"I did!" She snapped. Blush on her cheeks and fists tightened. "When we reached the clearing and Kahlan was attacked…"

He mused for a moment. "I thought that it was agreed… I mean, Kahlan was in danger! You had to aid her, those guys were hurting her. I had to do my part. You said that a good warrior must exploit his skills and I'm good with hiding, so…"

"But you're no warrior, you're a child!" She angrily exploded, the lump of guilt burning harsh in her throat and tasting irritatingly bitter. "And one I swore to protect."

"And you did. You were there when I needed you."

"I was fucking lucky… I risked, but what if-"

"What if you wouldn't aid Kahlan? It would be over her grave that you'd be blaming yourself now."

The mere thought made Cara's stomach churn and her blood boil. It was just unbearable, unthinkable… The anguished thoughts that crossed her mind when she was running back to Kahlan in the woods returned to haunt Cara. No, she couldn't really blame herself for aiding Kahlan at that moment. She still could blame herself for neglecting Stefan though. And to think that she had always been one for recklessness, one who cockily defied the chances. Carefully planning her moves sure, but unconcerned of the risks. The way she felt now was nonsensical and it was giving her a headache. Darn feelings!

"Peggy used to tell me that apologizing is hard, but being forgiven is priceless." He attempted with a tentative half smirk.

"I couldn't care less for forgiveness!" Cara crossly refuted, not quite relieved by his positive reaction to her admission, rather feeling even more bristly unfitting. "I care for successfully carrying out my assignments."

The boy sharpened his clear blue eyes. Cara's word choice was hurtful. "This 'assignment' was saved and - believe it or not! - mostly because of your making. So I don't see the point of fretting."

"I'm not…" Stefan's narrowed eyes prevented Cara from completing her obviously dishonest denial. She took a pause; the inner fight of her conflicting feelings battling behind the mask of her impassive eyes. "I was worried…" She admitted in a barely audible whisper. These words alone were unthinkable from her mouth, but to both their surprise Cara – prompted from a sudden and unbearable queasiness for pretense, which however lasted the very time of speaking the next two words - pushed herself over the edge of losing her face. "… about you." She finally breathed out. As absurd as it was, this other – and most decidedly harder – admission released a bit the constriction in her chest.

The slack-jawed child needed a generous fistful of seconds before recovering from bafflement, just to find himself struck from sudden flow of cheerfulness Like most kids he had that peculiar skill of forgetting grudges in the blink of an eye. "I'm not that good with apologizing as well, you know? I'm glad that you care for me, but please Cara don't feel guilty." He graced her with a beaming full smile and eyes as sparkling as she'd never seen on him before. The same nonsensical faith in good that she usually saw - and inwardly deplored – in Richard was now vividly depicted in his nephew, and spelled in his as much merry as foolish words. "Everything was fine."

Words just too similar to those that Cara had heard the day before, offered by way of excusing an execrable fault. "You resemble Kahlan!" She grumbled harsh, not willing to let his sudden good mood rub off on her. "Because we all were miraculously kissed by fortune, should we pretend that everything is a bed of roses? What's going to happen next time that we are in danger? Now that I can't trust her anymore?"

"You should trust her. It wasn't fortune, you and she made it. Together." He put particular emphasis on the last word, conveying his hope for Cara to just realize what was plain to him. "You shouldn't be mad at her."

Cara just snorted, crossing her arms around her chest.

"It was me who made her promise to leave and rescue you. It's me who you have to blame." He insisted, hunching his shoulder and cowering before the reproach he figured was on route.

"I told Kahlan to ride you away and protect you," Cara retorted with a grunt. "but she disobeyed me and risked your life."

"And wouldn't you have done the same for her?" He asked on the spur of the moment. His gaze completely pure and incapable of any malice was fixated on hers. "Haven't you just said that you've done the same because of her? Breaking a promise?" He absently touched his wrist, that one which remained orphan of Cara's grip when they were running toward the clearing.

Had someone else been the one who voiced the same thing Cara would consider it an unbearable insolence and would react as Mord-Sith have custom to do with it, namely silencing the pest with an affectionate caress of her Agiels. She looked square at his face; despite she'd never been that good at reading people for anything other than recognizing fear or pain - and for sure she wasn't used to reading small kids – she saw things in him. She clearly saw the audacity in his eyes – which, in some place in the back of her mind, was welcomed with pride and recognized as an heritage gotten from his maternal breed – but other than that, only honesty. What she decidedly sought and couldn't find, not even as a barest hint, was blame. What he had just voiced was truth, just simple plain truth, merely employed for his pacification purpose and not at all meant to accuse or despise, like she presumed he would and was his right to do. Stefan ultimately rarely lied. He was sincere, lacking shame even when things were unpleasant to be heard or uncomfortable to be told. Cara used to act exactly the same way, or at least she did until some time ago... Cara liked to be straightforward, liked to be the frank rude Mord-Sith she had always been: never scared of any consequence and especially enjoying abashing her companions since she joined Richard's retinue. But recent events led her to keep things from people and repeatedly lie.

Cara realized that she was now awfully tired of lying.

And tired of staying controlled, hiding her feelings, keeping the distance…

The magic touch of the gifted child who could look beyond her obstinacy and her facade, achieved to do something incredible. The bulky grudge of the big proud and stubborn Mord-Sith for Kahlan's failure shook and crumbled before the mere truth.

"Yes. I would." She exhaled, relinquishing to the fastest defeat of her history.

And with this acceptance flowing warm into her, allaying and disquieting at once, also the contradictions about Cara's peeve claimed to be untied. If she herself had been failing in keeping her promise in those extreme terms, could she really blame Kahlan for the same reason? If Stefan was easily forgiving her, didn't Kahlan deserve forgiveness as well? Wouldn't it be cowardice to refuse this courtesy to the Confessor and hiding herself behind an excessive indignation, with the purpose of instead skipping to face a certain other uneasy matter pending between them? Wasn't it a lie to deny that – in Cara's inner core - what she wanted the most was to reconcile with Kahlan?

And Cara was so tired of lying.

"Then make peace with her." Stefan goaded with a more convicted smile flickering across his lips. And an undoubted smugness edging his features for his easy – but any less deserved - victory. He had that extraordinary capacity to instinctively see things in their simplicity, when everybody else would found them complicated. "She's been so sad since you lashed out at her."

"I didn't lash out at her! We… talked." Cara complained. She still had some energy to lie after all. The kid disapprovingly tipped his head.

"Uhm… Okay, maybe I raised my voice a little with her…" The Mord-Sith allowed, vaguely gesturing with her hand. The sharp contrast between the current light banter and the previous stiff confrontation struck Cara. She physically felt the tension waning, her chest releasing a constriction that had kept her tight and on the edge for weeks now. And she positively felt that this sense of relief was somehow exclusive credit of the child.

"A little?! I think that the people of Arrenwood miles away from here are now aware that you didn't want to be saved!"

Cara huffed and rolled her eyes. "Okay I lashed out at her! Are you satisfied now?"

"Absolutely not." He insisted, dead set to make her speak aloud the pledge to fix things. He knew that she was too obstinate to make a move without someone to push her in the right direction. But - thank Creator – he was there to give her that push.

"I'll make peace with her." She sighed resigned and again defeated. But for once Cara was glad for having been proved wrong. "Can I finish my breakfast in peace now?"

"You still owe me something." He insisted exposing that adorable and bold smirk that she had missed so much. But she kept a grip on herself, still resolute in playing the part of the annoyed Mord-Sith.

"What?" She barked for the third time that day, but this time it sounded entirely different.

"You haven't still kissed me." He offered his soft cheek, pointing it with his forefinger. "Do you remember the rose I brought for you?"

"The stupid flower?! Because of which a mess of epic proportion was dumped on us?! You can kiss my as-" Cara bit her lip. Kahlan wouldn't be happy of her colored language. "You were kissed with fortune. For now you have to settle for it!"

The boy gleefully laughed. After all he wasn't displeased for failing to get a kiss. This was a stimulating challenge that he was planning to win one day or the other, but he knew that Cara was a worthy opponent when it came to fighting against displays of affection. Well, except when Kahlan and mouth-licking were involved…

It took a certain quantity of time for Cara to finish all the food of her breakfast and although she didn't ask Stefan to stay, neither did she ask him to leave. Thereby through an unspoken agreement the child was with her all the time and happy as he hadn't been in many weeks.


She entered into the room and slowly moved to the hearth. As usual she contemplated for some silent moments the low crackling of the tired burning tongues which had eroded almost all the wood and were now trudging in search for new nourishment to consume and transfigure in heat and light, but the charred logs had nothing left to offer to the cause. With a resurgence of glory a flame popped higher with a sharp snap and a small explosion of sparks, but it immediately returned to rest low among its peers, resigned to a slow ineluctable extinction.

Kahlan took a log and added it to the fire, giving new hope to what seemed doomed to unavoidably die. Orange tufts immediately embraced the new source of life and started biting its bark, blithely dancing and increasing the glow from the fireplace. Kissing the face of the tall standing woman with its renewed warmth. Drying her eyes which seemed to get wet definitely too often as of late.

She turned around and stared at the bed nearby, upon which she could discern the contour of Cara's quiet body; after the weeks spent there by the cottage she was starting to get used to see the Mord-sith's lithe and in perpetual labor form, uncommonly resting languid and unemployed, lost in a deep lassitude. The fascinating body was outlined with thin lines of golden reflections blending with the bronze shade of Cara's skin and running along the sinuous curves of her unequivocally powerful, albeit still, form. It was a different kind of repose from the guarded and controlled sleep Kahlan had become familiar with during the nights of their camping together, when Cara – even in her slumber – had looked like pulsing with energy and ready jump into action in the blink of an eye if circumstances prompted her to. The light was not enough to clearly see the details of Cara's glorious beauty, but Kahlan didn't need to see it to know its charm. The rhythmic and deep breathing from her chest was like music to Kahlan's ears and in the past days that melody had more than once helped her to shrug off the tension suddenly tightening the muscles of her back, reminding her that Cara was now fine.

Cara didn't remember having been confessed and although she had cuttingly blamed Kahlan, the Confessor had the feeling that things could be fixed as long as certain memories were locked. Stefan had also reported to her that Cara had showed a better mood in the time they spent together that morning and seemed prone to making up. After the argument of the previous day the Confessor had avoided seeing Cara for a while, wanting to give her a time to be apart, to think and let things sink in. Because there were more things that Kahlan needed to tell her and she didn't want Cara to be upset at the moment she would release her guilt. Or maybe it was just another excuse to take time before breaking everything with Cara… She had to confess the truth but she lacked the courage…

Kahlan sighed and stepped out of the room. She wouldn't tell her that night, but she inwardly pledged that she would tomorrow.

.

It was broad daylight and Cara decided to get up. She was really sick of that unproductive condition, lying in bed and stuffing exquisite food weren't behaviors fitting to her. She had never stayed in bed so much like in past months, in Agadean Reach first and in that cottage now. She was Mord-Sith, what the heck, not an old slacker! Now that she could rely upon her right arm again, she could surely lift up and return to her normal life. The first step was getting out of that stupid bed with her own legs, without need for nurse Kahlan to come around and vex her with pointless fussing around.

She couldn't really process or accept it, but part of her knew that it was having reconciled with Stefan that was shaking off of her that unusual blanket of torpor that had been weighing on her after the last battle. Admitting – although difficultly – her unforgivable fault with him and the complete and natural acceptance she received from him in return, struck her in an unexpected way. She felt an immediate relief when they talked, but it had been in the following hours that she started to see things with renewed lucidity. To recover her foolishly set aside steadfastness; the silly torpor blanket was now pooling at her feet. Leaving this cottage to bring him to safe quarters was again the priority that was prodding her to return active and lethal.

It was with her typical cockiness that Cara was already planning a hunting rove and a training session out in the woods with her Agiels… Creator, who knew where Kahlan had closed them and her uniform?! She missed the tightness of her leathers, that coarse embrace that helped her to keep herself gathered other than concealed. A comfortable mask in which slipping in and just being the kind of woman no one expected anything but violence from. And she missed the raw touch of her Agiels. That familiar clutch of pain rising up from her wrists and elbows; the relief that came from holding in her hands the epitome of her kind. Her Agiels and Mord-Sith red blood outfit were a reminder of who she was and to whom she belonged; the symbols of where her loyalty lied. She had most definitely held her weapons and relished the relief of pain too little in the past period. Becoming again accustomed to the ache after weeks apart would be hard, but that was precisely what Cara needed: to focus on her duty and return an efficient cold warrior. Being stripped of her leathers and rods surely had a big role in her indulging so much in thinking about feelings and other silliness as of late. Now she needed to be disciplined again in the proficient Mord-Sith way.

She promptly moved and in a pounce she stood up nonchalantly, but either she had overestimated her capacities or just teased her luck too much, the fact remained that her body betrayed her. She felt her legs weak and a strong dizziness suddenly struck her. She heavily flopped down landing on the floor with a loud thud. As predicted, Kahlan rushed into the room in the blink of an eye and ran to her.

"Are you hurt?" The brunette asked concerned, crouching close to Cara.

"Only my pride." The blonde feebly waved her off, with a tone that spoke more of resignation than annoyance.

"Where do you think you're going? You must stay in bed, you are still convalescent."

"I need to piss, ok?!" The mention of the stupid bed roused a belated annoyance in Cara, who also blamed her stupid legs for failing her, drawing unwanted worried attention from the Confessor. "I can make it now. I just had a bit of dizziness. Stand up now."

She grabbed Kahlan's shoulder with a brisk unannounced motion, aimed to explain that what she was doing wasn't bracing or seeking for assistance, but just exploiting circumstances to get out of an adverse situation. Only, the touch of her hand was far too gentle to look like she was imposing on Kahlan to provide sustenance, rather it resulted like a silent but no less explicit request for – as unbecoming as it was for a Mord-Sith – a gesture of help. If Kahlan noticed the slight nuance of difference between what Cara needed and what she wanted to convey, she didn't show it. Cara on her part wasn't sure if she could actually make it on her own legs, but she didn't want to sit upon the stupid bed again and even less being told to lie down and rest. And as irksome as it was to admit it, she needed Kahlan's help to stand up.

Kahlan didn't comment and helped her as she was – in one way or the other - requested. She encircled Cara's waist for support whereas the blonde placed her arms around Kahlan's shoulders; the brunette bolstered her and leveraging on her strong long legs lifted her. Cara was looking at her own feet to check if everything was fine with balance; she still felt weak but at least dizziness seemed to be damped now. She absently adjusted her arms and felt Kahlan's hands slipping from her waist and holding on her lower back. She felt long fingers spreading and gripping then their bodies were brought closer, colliding in an explosion of warmth. Cara looked up and realized that her arms were now clasped around Kahlan's neck instead of shoulders and they were standing and hugging with chests pressed against each other. Kahlan's lids were heavy and there was something wild lingering beneath in her look. Puzzlement stirred in Cara's mind and her thoughts were suddenly flooded with the delectable heat that was growing in the many spots where they were connected. Cara immediately wished that there was no fabric to bar the way between their bodies. She felt her nipples tightening against the thin nightshift and pressing against the hard leather of Kahlan's dress. Hadn't they been that glued to each other such evidence would be visible and Cara figured that she'd become instantly wet in seeing Kahlan's gaze lingering on her erected peaks, no doubt noticeable under the light fabric. She was just sure that Khalan would pointedly leer at her. The Mord-Sith's pulse picked a frantic speed.

She was mad at Kahlan, she reminded herself. She wanted to be mad at Kahlan… She sighed. Cara was full of lies and sick of lies!

What she really wanted was Kahlan. Only Kahlan and entirely Kahlan.

And if the other woman wanted her as well and wanted to take her now, Cara couldn't make a stand. Kahlan could win her as easy as drinking a glass of water. And a part of the blonde just wanted to surrender and be won… a part growing bigger and bigger with every passing day and which would probably soon swallow her completely if she didn't part from the Confessor in time. That part of Cara drew out the recollection of Kahlan's words which had marked her and made her burn with bright fire.

I want you! I want you! I want you!

But Cara also had another part, strong and stubborn which was ringing the refrain that was supposed to lead her to the reason.

Master Rahl guide us, Master Rahl teach us, Master Rahl protect us,

Kahlan leaned closer and the tip of their noses slightly touched. That small moan that Kahlan let out drove a new wave of liquid warmth pooling down from Cara's lower belly. The blonde's legs became limp and betrayed her a second time, threatening to make her fall. She instinctively clung more firmly on Kahlan's shoulders and the Confessor took this as an invitation. She moved forward and leaned her forehead against Cara's, brushing the tip of her nose up and down against the side of Cara's. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted; hot breath caressing Cara's skin tingling with desire. This time it was Cara's turn to whimper.

"Cara…" She exhaled breathlessly and her hand moved and smoothed up through her back until it reached blonde locks that she gently grasped; the slight pull sent shivers down the Mord-Sith's spine and everything else other than Kahlan ceased to exist for Cara. It was in Kahlan's power to wash away each and every barrier and Cara just broke. The blonde moved to put their lips together and as they slightly grazed the Confessor gasped.

Then Kahlan backed off.

Imperceptibly, but still unequivocally. Her hand slid from Cara's back to her hip and was now applying the slightest resistance. Pulling. Gently, but still pulling away. And the other hand moved from Cara's hair to her collar bone. Holding. Gently, but still holding back. And Kahlan's face moved backwards. A hairbreadth, there wasn't much more space than that between their mouths, but still she withdrew and they were now apart. Her lips were now pinched. Her eyes upset, lids fluttering.

The tough Mord-Sith who Cara once was would record these signs and take them as an affront. She'd react as it was proper to her kind, forcing a kiss and ravaging the insolent woman. Taking her with violence against a wall and inflicting her pain, reveling in the pleasure of hearing her whimpers of delight and agony. Venting against the woman her self-loathing for having showed the weakness of her deep longing. But Cara wasn't that kind of woman anymore since such a long time that she still remembered how to do those things, but couldn't bring herself to actually act that way with Kahlan. Nonetheless the woman she was now would neither humiliate herself pleading for a kiss that was clearly undesired. Whining upon her jilted heart and in front of the longed and elusive Mother Confessor.

The woman she was now chose the void. A comfortable sheathe where she had hidden often in the past weeks and where the others didn't seem to have the itch of venturing to annoy her.

"I need to piss." Cara's blank face and flat voice brilliantly achieved to irreparably shatter the physical tension still pulsing strong between them.

"S-Sure..." Kahlan moved back and put more distance between them. Her hands shyly returned to Cara's waist and lingered there for a second more than necessary, then they left. Cara recorded how shaky those hands were, but chose to ignore it. She chose not to look Kahlan in her face. She chose to keep her face hard.

Cara walked past Kahlan – aggravation keeping her legs surprisingly steady now - wending to the privy without any other word, without looking back.

When the door closed behind Cara's shoulders Kahlan took a couple of steps backwards and leant against the wall with a loud hearty sigh. She repeatedly tapped the back of her head against the wall and looked upward with wet eyes, as if searching for an answer from the Spirits above.

How could she think that she was standing strong and supporting Cara, when the other woman leaning in had make her feel the air beneath her feet? How could the happiness for Cara wanting to kiss her feel so wrong? How could the misery of being undeservedly intertwined to Cara feel so sweet?

Kahlan couldn't kiss her, in spite of every fiber of her being screaming for her to do so. Her probity was still strong in her and stronger than the intense heady feeling. Kissing Cara without the blonde knowing the truth was taking advantage of her. Deceiving her. Using her. And Cara had been used way too much in her life for Kahlan to even stand the idea of it happening again. Much less because of Kahlan's making. It would have been so easy to close her eyes and just lean in and give in to her love. But it was equally so easy to break that proud and precious heart.

Kahlan blinked the tears away and sighed again, her look still glued to the ceiling. Her heart still torn apart and as always no answer coming from the Spirits.

The lock of the privy sharply clacked and Cara walked out of there, her face still stoic. If she was surprised to see Kahlan still there, she gave no evidence of it. She moved smoothly brushing past Kahlan, or at least she did her best effort to do so. She was fast with recovering Kahlan thought; her gait looked normal and only the eye of someone who already knew that she was still convalescent would glimpse the slight stiffness or the edge of struggle in her motions. Aside from that, the typical casual swagger was normally paraded, making Kahlan's insides roll with angst and hunger at once.

Cara moved nonchalantly and started inspecting a closet, burying her face into the wooden cavity and mumbling curses against the dresses and shirts she found therein.

"What are you looking for?" Kahlan hesitantly asked, but unsurprisingly got no answer in return.

Cara bumped one of the shutters with a last muttered invective and walked to the chest lying at the feet of the bed. She brusquely opened it and rummaged between sheets and blankets. Albeit her effort, the blank in her face was doubtlessly exuding aggravation.

"Can I help you?" Kahlan offered again, but a brief glower from over Cara's shoulder and a low growl was the only response emitted in return. Cara's supposed blank was fast reaching a shade of temper. She kicked the chest and attacked the drawers of a dresser, disrespectfully tossing out pants and socks.

"I know you can hear me. You're only half deaf, remember?" Kahlan tried again, but the blonde ignored her unfitting attempt of joking and she instead nervously extracted the whole drawer, overturning it on the floor with an explosion of underclothes.

"Cara stop messing up Arthur and Eliza's things! What are you-"

"Where are my Agiels?!" She snarled with more rage than she wished to give away. "And my leathers?!"

"You don't need them now. You have to go back to bed."

"And you have to stop hassling me!" She almost yelled, trembling in the exertion of restraining herself. The blank was by now the thinnest veil of control, barely kept in place. "I'm Mord-Sith, not a pet at your avail for you to nurture! You have those two simpletons for that!"

"Cara, stop being this unreasonable." Kahlan ignored the spiteful allusion and lunged forward to block her way. She snagged Cara's hand.

"Get out of my way!" The Mord-Sith shrilled and tried to angrily wrench away, but Kahlan held her. "And don't touch me!" She brusquely yanked the hand out of the grasp and slapped Kahlan's face hard. The whipping sound of flesh against flesh popped out like a crack and the bright red mark of Cara's fingers immediately bloomed on the milky skin of Kahlan's cheek along with a small patch of flickering blood. Just in the spot where a little scab witnessed another clout Kahlan got during the last battle.

Not that Kahlan could actually be hurt with a flick on her face, but Cara didn't remember when it was the last time that she hit the Confessor with such purpose. She had slapped her with vigor when they were stuck in the tomb back in Dunshire, but it was different. That was to save Kahlan's life. They had fought many times, sparring or battling both as allies and as foes. Cara had fought with Kahlan with anger, because anger was what propelled Mord-Sith in battle. And Cara had fought with Kahlan with passion because dancing the deadly dance in balance between pleasure and pain was the way in which Cara naturally eased with the Confessor. Kahlan was the only one with whom Cara was feeling equality both in a battle field and in the unknown meadow of her loving feelings. No one else but her could be capable of standing there in that planar emotionally empty expanse that was Cara's heart. Cara wasn't afraid of striking Kahlan or hurting her in a fight, for she knew that Kahlan would take it in and accept it. Besides Cara liked to inflict pain; thinking of doing it to Kahlan was even arousing.

But not in this way.

Cara felt terrorized because suddenly she was seeing Kahlan as an opponent, like she hadn't considered her in a very long time. Cara stared at her hand stained with a few drops of the Confessor's blood and froze with fear; anger faded away in a moment. Kahlan's face didn't betray anything; she was holding her cheek and a deep vertical wrinkle was splitting her forehead between her eyebrows.

Cara felt suddenly tired. She took some paces backwards – as if needing to withdraw from the evidence of her futile outburst - until she felt the edge of the mattress behind her knees. She plucked down on the stupid bed like a floppy bag. "Creator, I'm an idiot…"

Kahlan clenched her jaw and seemingly swallowed back her retort. Then she tersely turned around to leave, as she had been so eloquently asked.

"No, wait Kahlan… please…" She sounded like she was begging; less than how she felt, but more than how she wished to give away. She recalled how a time ago it had been Kahlan to plead her not to leave the room of a certain inn and she had instead hurried to cut and run. Kahlan chose differently and Cara silently thanked the Spirits for Confessors' regard. The brunette stopped by the closed door but didn't spin around neither said anything. Her stance square and still, didn't reveal what she was exactly feeling. Hurt or anger or both or something else entirely... Confessors were trained well.

"I…" Cara trailed off, struggling to form words that she had never learned to speak, wishing them to come and get past her stupid stubborn mouth. She dug her fingers into blonde hair and breathed out with frustration. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." The Confessor coldly let out. Then she walked away without turning back and slamming the door behind her back with a sharp clack.

"Creator, I'm an idiot…" Cara exhaled again, sitting alone with her eyes behind her palms. She wasn't well versed with making up, but she was pretty sure that people wouldn't deem this attempt of hers as a successful fulfillment.

When some minutes later she heard a knock to her door, Cara thought that Kahlan had changed her mind and was there to throw up her contempt. And Creator, that would be the most welcomed gift she could think of now! Being punished for a misstep was a pleasure to a Mord-Sith and Cara deserved all the retaliation Kahlan could muster. Then maybe Cara could take her chance to provoke Kahlan and push her to say why she had done what she did… leading Cara on for a kiss and then recoiling at the very last moment. But when Cara opened the door she only found a cloth bundle dropped on the floor.

Her leathers and Agiels in it.


Cara felt exhausted.

She had tried to wear her leathers but there was no point. The fact that such attire wasn't easy to slip into without help from a comrade wasn't the real problem, since Cara was used to getting dressed on her own and even if she wasn't still at her best, she still could do that. The thing was that after the battle her outfit was soaked with snow, blood and dirt, but no one took care to properly clean and oil it, so now the leathers were chapped and dried out; laces stiff and frayed. Plus the garments had evidently been torn unceremoniously off of her in the haste of tending her and between this lack of regard and all the pierces that she suffered, the uniform was reduced worse than a colander. It was impossible to wear it.

Cara had thereby given the leathers up and instead focused on trying to become again accustomed with her Agiels. With her usual arrogance she had gripped both the sticks in her hands and such gall had only gained her a strong pang exploding in her head, just above her deaf ear. The unbearable pain had flashed excruciatingly white and pulsed for long minutes after, forcing Cara to sit on the bed and concentrate to breathe. Bringing an indistinct sensation of jagged roughness behind her back and warm softness against her front. And the ghostly memory of lingering pressure against her throat and insistent wet demand against her lips.

She had waited for the worse to pass by, then with gritted teeth she kept on trying to hold her weapons with wary touches, concentrating to tune the intensity of the pain to a level that she could handle and progressively increasing it. In the end she was again capable of holding both Agiels in her hands, although she wouldn't be capable of dealing a fight; she couldn't do more than standing and regularly breathing. If anything it was a beginning and she knew she could soon return in control of her skills if she kept on insisting.

Another knock on the door turned her away from her exercises. Cara hid the Agiels under her pillow and hastened to open the door. She knew that she needed to clear things out with Kahlan more than she was willing to admit, but still it was out of her reach to just open the door first and go to seek for Kahlan. And what could she tell her? Cara wasn't experienced with talking or solving incomprehension. So she eagerly welcomed that the Confessor's head was less hard than hers and that she had decided to take the first step.

But when she opened the door the face she met on the other side of the threshold wasn't surely the beauty who Cara was expecting. Rather a vitriolic tight-lipped and narrow-eyed Eliza was holding a tray with Cara's dinner. It had always been Kahlan to take Cara the food so far, for the mutual antipathy between the Mord-Sith and the young wife was well known. The confessed woman didn't spit a word and just slammed the tray in Cara's hands, not caring much to check if the blonde was seizing it. Although Cara's arms were still a bit shaky she managed to hold it and before she could lift her look to complain and threaten the rude hostess, Eliza was already around the corner.

"Stupid cook woman!" Cara muttered, then she returned to the room and tentatively tasted the food. It wouldn't be so unthinkable that Eliza had poured some toxic ingredients in the dish… maybe Kahlan had revoked the order to treat Cara in velvet gloves after their last exchange had gone awry. But everything looked normal with the food and Cara was starving again, so she ate it up to the last bread crumb. It was to gain all the possible energies - she obstinately thought to herself - and not certainly because that viands were exquisite as usual. Kahlan hadn't evidently revoked the playing-gentle order.

It wasn't long after her lonely dinner that Cara went to bed with a heavy chest. So far in her awake days by the cottage she had always consumed her meals in that room with Kahlan close to her. Cara had always been shut in her stubborn muteness, but the Confessor had however persisted in being around that frowning long face, patiently helping with feeding and respecting Cara's choice for isolation.

Cara sprawled on the bed, huffing and feeling irritated for her stupid mood. She pulled the covers up to her neck; the fireplace hadn't much to burn with and it was going to be a cold long night in that room. She had spent time alone without Kahlan before and that wasn't certainly something odd or wrong. There was nothing logical that should make Cara feel upset or gnaw her mind.

Except for that Cara was being illogical that night and she terribly and bitterly missed Kahlan.

.

Like every night since the day they started residing in the cottage Kahlan moved to Cara's room to add a log to burn through the rest of the night before herself retiring. She stood holding the handle of the door for a long while before stepping in, taking care of making the least possible noise.

Cara was lying in bed immobile. Kahlan tended the fire with sure but noiseless motions. She needed a practical task to distract her from the thought of Cara lying nearby. In few moments the flames started popping enthusiastic and the crackle filled the quiet of the room. Kahlan smirked satisfied; soon the setting would be warm again.

She moved away from the hearth and stopped watching Cara resting on her side, her back to Kahlan. The night before she had pledged that she'd tell the Mord-Sith the truth the next day and now that it was night, the deadline was about to pass anytime soon. Kahlan had spent too much time camping with Cara not to recognize the rhythm of her deep breathing when she was asleep. The light ebb and flow of her chest now was betraying her and Cara was too smart not to know it. But silence was like a wall between them, thick and solid; full of incomprehension and unspoken revelations. And denied feelings. How could Cara let her watch her sleep, then break Kahlan's dreams the way she did? Sure it had been Kahlan who hesitated before and didn't yield to Cara's attempt to get in touch, but she had good reasons. And then that slap to her face so sudden and harsh hurt her, but ultimately she deserved it and she read immediate regret in Cara's eyes. Kahlan slightly touched her cheek; it still ached a bit having been hit where a previous bruise still colored her. The mild pain reminded her that broken things need to be fixed. The Confessor sighed, wondering why it seemed like it was always up to her to make the first move with Cara. She felt tired of having this responsibility and wished that for once…

"Will you stand there stock still all night?"

Kahlan almost jumped as the voice thick and deep – and she wondered for a fraction of second whether that was because of Cara's drowsiness or else because of conflicting impressions remained lingering into the Mord-Sith after that unannounced slap shot that morning - ripped the silence of the night for a moment then everything was back to dense silence.

"You linger there for a reason." Cara's tone was self-assured somehow, but the cadence of the voice betrayed a doubt between being affirming or questioning.

"Indeed." Kahlan exhaled and the single word felt heavy as a boulder.

"Come here." Cara ordered with a voice that this time left no room for doubts or debate.

She was still with her back to Kahlan and the Confessor didn't know what Cara had in her mind. She didn't like to be in the dark of Cara's intentions, but she also felt thrilled. A spark of excitement churned into her and she just pliantly came close. She took the shawl off and briefly shivered as the milky skin of her shoulders was exposed; thin straps holding her nightshift hanging on her skin. It was cold she thought, but fire would soon fan heat into the room. She glided into the bed and swallowed back the light moan of delight for slipping into sheets imbued with Cara's warmth and scent. In spite of all her good intentions and her need to be fair with Cara, her arms just sneaked around the soft body. She encircled Cara's waist from behind and tightly snuggled against her. With a hint of hesitation she pressed her front to the other woman's warm back and her nose nuzzled into blonde strands, relishing Cara's quiet acceptance for her presence; not even the slightest sign of stiffness or protest for the remarkable closeness was displayed. Kahlan relaxed in turn and deeply inhaled, recollecting how special it felt to hold Cara this way. Too long she had gone without such pleasure, since the days they were climbing down the Rang-Shada mountains, when Kahlan was too scared of what she felt and scared that Cara would reject her. Molding this way against the other woman's body unsealed now a wave of nostalgia and tenderness and desire. How could anyone feel so wild and so blue at once? Being close to Cara now was the closest thing to crazy that Kahlan had ever known and one that tasted like a lost heaven.

She tucked her chin above Cara's shoulder and the only thing she wished at that moment was to whisper to her that she loved her. But she couldn't until she'd tell the truth.

"I'm not good with this stuff…" Cara difficultly started. Her shoulders became stiff against the other woman at the moment she started talking. "I'm sorry Kahlan… for everything."

"Everything…" Kahlan gasped breathlessly. She held Cara more tightly.

"I shouldn't have… I treated you badly before… And yesterday …" The quaver in her voice was clear, but Cara kept her face obstinately turned around and her hands hidden under the pillow. She opened her mouth again, Kahlan heard the light wet sound of moistened lips parting and air being breathed in, but Cara stayed silent for some more seconds before swallowing hard one last time and finally releasing. "Please, forgive me."

It hit Kahlan like a hundred punches all over her body.

Cara, Mistress Cara, the tough Mord-Sith, the woman who never looked back and never begged pardon, was pleading for Kahlan's forgiveness…

In the past she had heard Cara making reluctant sort of apologies, difficultly admitting her regrets, or even awkwardly confessing her guilt. But she had never heard Cara pleading for forgiveness. Never ever. And now, with that awful guilt weighing on her heart Kahlan was listening to Cara lowering her pride to the ground, overlooking her disappointment about Kahlan's faults and opening up to show that she cared to be forgiven. From Kahlan. Exposing herself completely to the Confessor's judgment. She had already done something similar a long time ago, when she proudly stood over against the Confessor and exposed her neck for Kahlan to seize in the square of Stowcroft, expecting to be executed. Begging for justice to be administered with a gaze that dripped equally with regret and dignity. With a strength as Kahlan had rarely seen before in anyone's eyes and a single tear rolling down the Mord-Sith cheek. That was the very first time when Kahlan glimpsed more in Cara than the wicked and unreliable Sister of the Agiel who she used to superficially consider her once. And how far had Kahlan fallen after that very first glimpse. And how different and alike was the Cara who Kahlan was holding now.

"There's nothing to forgive Cara." She sobbed into the blonde's neck, her voice already cracking with cry. "I broke my promise to you. I understand that you're mad at me."

"I treated you badly also in the past days… And that night in the shed… I always treat you badly…" Cara sadly sighed. "All the same you saved my life. Again." Cara curled herself, becoming littler in Kahlan's arms. Her hands stuck under the pillow and biceps rhythmically tensing and releasing. The claim of her being undeserving of salvation was there, unspoken yet so clear. "I'm not mad at you… I'm just…" She trailed off and her mouth refused to stutter inarticulate words that would just lead nowhere.

"You and I… we should stop trying to hurt each other." Kahlan breathed out.

"I never want to hurt you." Cara's voice was a mere exhalation. The cry was far echo, muffled and withheld somewhere down in the back of her throat, but Kahlan heard it anyway. She slipped a hand under the pillow to seize Cara's but when her hand met something hard instead of the blonde's fingers an explosion of pain ran through her limb and she jumped back with a shriek.

"Cara leave your Agiels!"

"I can't. I need them." Cara murmured still rolled into a ball under the blanket. "Pain… this familiar pain helps me. Not to feel… too much…"

"But it doesn't seem to work very well." Kahlan whispered above Cara's ear.

"I don't hear from that side, remember?" Cara informed her, trying to sidetrack the Confessor.

Kahlan slipped a hand around Cara's waist again and leaned her palm on her warm stomach. The other hand sneaked under the pillow and grabbed both Cara's hand and the Agiel. She choked the grunt of pain and held her fingers tight. If Cara was this, taking in pain and using it to her advantage, then she'd share this with her.

"I know that pain is your solution for most of the problems. Such as your resolve to keep yourself apart from those who care for you." Kahlan's breathing was slightly uneven while she endured the flow of ache; her lips were ghosting along the crest of Cara's jaw with a slight tremble. "But you are not alone." She squeezed Cara's hand.

"I am. I've always been." Cara uttered. No matter how hard she tried to keep her stance controlled, she felt like she was looking pathetically vulnerable. Like she was a breath away from falling apart. The moments of her life when loneliness had been keener and torturing flashed in her mind… her training as a little girl trapped in a cell with the company of ravenous rats, the day when she gave birth to her child who was torn apart from her, the moment when she was betrayed from her former sisters and almost beaten to death… the moment when she was sprawled on a snow carpet waiting for death to claim her.

"You're getting hurt, leave the Agiel." Cara severed the chain of pointless and unwanted memories. "You shouldn't touch it. You shouldn't be here. I want you to move now." Despite her voice sounding again like ordering, she didn't make any move to pull Kahlan away or remove the Confessor's hand from hers and from the crying weapon. The mixture of those touches blended together was soothing Cara as anything before.

Kahlan sighed, for it was clear that Cara didn't really want her to move; besides it had been her to summon the Confessor there in first place. How could Cara make her fall apart then break her fall with loving lies? She wasn't willing to give her up now. To leave her alone. She wouldn't let Cara push her away like she did in the clearing where Kahlan had no choice to come back.

"I accept your apology and I forgive you." The Confessor dropped a lingering kiss in the spot between her ear and neck. "And I won't move."

"Kahlan…" Cara moaned closing her eyes. Kahlan's lips on her neck, her soft dark hair caressing her shoulders and full breasts pressing on her back… Kahlan's warm skin gently brushing against her own... Kahlan saying those things to her… everything conspiring to make Cara feeling overwhelmed with bittersweet emotions and she didn't know whether the safety she craved lied in just letting go and be drowned into them, or in fighting and flailing against them until she was out of that dangerous whirl.

Attempting to get a grip on herself the Mord-Sith moved away, taking the Agiels from under the pillow and placing them on the nightstand, out of both hers and Kahlan's reach. Too eager to return into Kahlan's embrace, but not entirely feeling that she was allowed and deserved to bask in such welcoming warmth, Cara came back to the bed. The thought of the Lord Rahl and what his distant presence entailed regarding loyalty, was clamped somewhere in the back of her mind, faintly throbbing against her pride but not strong enough to prevent her from lying back in the arms of her Lord's love. Searching for relief in her tormented situation Cara replaced her hand under the pillow and found Kahlan's still there waiting for hers. Their fingers naturally intertwined and bodies immediately tightened against each other; it felt so good that they both stopped thinking of anything else than the bliss of closeness.

A closeness that looked like the premise for much more than a simple lounging together, but at the same time it was perfect, stuck in the way it was. There was an odd sensation with Kahlan all wrapped around her, breathing and sweating against her skin. Cara felt burning warmth unfurling inside her, but somehow her desire was stifled. It felt like there was too much emotion and too many different kinds for her to actually turn on the switch of passion. Kahlan's touch was soothing every tension, there was peace in this connection and no need for things to move forward or back at the moment. No need for things to be spoken or done. Just relishing the instant. It was an unknown serenity that Cara wanted to treasure for as long as she could. It was something that she had never experienced before. To Cara this looked like a more plausible way people used to make up.

Words flowed out straight from her heart. Thicker than she thought she may even utter and tasting with a foreign bittersweet flavor on the tip of her tongue.

"Thank you Kahlan."

.

Later – Kahlan couldn't say how much time had passed – it seemed like Cara had fallen asleep and everything was quiet in the dark room; the faint glow and light crackling of the fire the only signs of life. Everything felt so good with them peacefully embraced and close, emotionally other than physically. Kahlan hardly remembered other times in which Cara had been so sincere with her, so exposed and pliant to be reached. Yet the Confessor couldn't completely relax and fall asleep; in her strain for honesty she couldn't really think that things were fixed until she revealed the truth and faced the consequences of her actions with Cara. But she couldn't seem to find the strength to do so now, while she was holding Cara tightly and protectively. She couldn't think of breaking her so harshly after Cara had exposed her very soul… She felt so weak in her hesitation.

"You should thank Stefan." Cara's voice tore the silence of the night again. "He scolded me and obligated me to promise I would make up with you."

Kahlan softly chuckled at the thought of the tough Mord-Sith harshly disciplined from the cute boy. She also smiled realizing that Cara had eased back in her usual habit of dismissing whatever kindness. In this case, the responsibility of actively searching for a pacification with her. "I won't miss to." She quietly offered.

After some moments of silence Kahlan dared to talk again. "You should tell him the truth."

Cara sighed. An earnest heavy sigh. "If I would, he'd want things from me. That I haven't the means to give him. He deserves more than I can..."She just left the speech hanging, unable to articulate or even exactly figure out what it was that she meant. Apparently that night her talkative faculties were even scarcer than usual. What she knew for sure was that Mord-Sith weren't meant to have this kind of worries and there were good reasons if children were torn apart from them at birth.

"I understand, but still you could-"

"No Kahlan, I can't." She stiffened in the other woman's arms, but only for a moment. "There are truths that are better left unspoken. For the sake of the ones we want to protect."

It struck Kahlan and for the second time that night she felt like she was hit from a hundred punches. If Cara thought that way, then maybe she'd prefer to be protected from the hurtful truth that Kahlan was holding back? Was it better for her sake to keep that thing from her? The temptation to abide by the veiled request of protection was strong all the more now that Cara looked so delicate resting in her arms. But could really Kahlan – the Mother Confessor no less - think of living her life with Cara with that hidden crime between them?

She was born Confessor, it was in her blood not a training instilled into her. Confessors were kind of women who pursued truth, no matter what. It wasn't a choice for Kahlan, it wasn't an option. It simply was what she was. And she had dithered all too long so far, it was time to clear things once for all.

"Cara turn around. There's something I need to tell you."

"M-mh." Kahlan saw blonde locks softly shaking in denial.

"I'm serious Cara, I need to look at your face when I tell you this."

"No." The blonde softly dropped, conveying all her determination with that small word alone.

"Stop being stubborn about every single trifle." Despite the serious topic, the ghost of a chuckle eased in her tone, for Cara was capable of exasperating her in every context. "This is important."

"Not now Kahlan. Please, not now…" Cara sighed, the ghost of bitterness swimming on the background of her voice. And Kahlan felt again the push to comply with Cara's need for protection call forth strong. To save her from a hurtful notion. Could she really deny Cara mercy when she was begged like that? Then again could she afford to hold Cara the way she was when she was being false to her. Sadness crept into Kahlan again, making her question her actions and shudder at the thought that she was doing everything wrong, like she always seemed to do with Cara.

"Why don't you want to look at me in my face? It's because you don't trust me anymore? Because I failed you." The Confessor almost sobbed.

"It's not that!" Cara blurted with a jerk, but resolutely keeping her averted position. "I was nervous before… I was an idiot and incoherent… That I'm still breathing is the evidence that you didn't fail me. And I wouldn't let anyone unreliable to hold me like this." Her voice was harsh for she wanted to deliver her conviction, yet the resolve in conveying her trust spoke of a secret tenderness within her intention. She softened her tone before whispering again. "I wouldn't let anyone at all to hold me like this… except you Kahlan."

Kahlan's heart hammered heavier. She squeezed Cara's waist and felt a warm loving feeling filling her heart and hot tears she would will back burning behind her eyes. Her lower belly rolling with dense warmth and shivers. "If you trust me, then turn around."

"Don't you understand Kahlan? It's not about you… It's me that I don't trust. If I turn around…" She paused; her voice was rough and reaching both the edge of despair and desire now. "I have a loyalty to keep. In spite of what I feel."

"And if I'd tell you that it's because of my loyalty that I want you to turn around, would you think that I'm awful?"

Cara took a long pause, trying to figure what Kahlan meant with those enigmatic words. "Many are the terms one could use to describe you Confessor." Cara swallowed hard, for she wanted to convey so much in her speech, but didn't know how. And she knew that what she wanted to convey was better left unspoken, but that night her body was tired and her heart was knowing reasons that reason knew not. "But no, awful is not one that can ever fit to you."

"Cara please, look at me." The tempting whisper sliced the air over the blonde's shoulder and a quiver drifted all over Cara's back.

"To what point? Ogling you?!" She snapped hiding behind annoyance her strain and fear.

"You know, I had many chances to ogle you in the past days when I tended at your wounds. Maybe we could make things even?" Kahlan teased with a mischievousness that surprised them both. "Although your nightshift is much more revealing than mine." She gently tugged at the strap on Cara's shoulder. She was still wearing the skimpy shift Shota gave her at the beginning of their journey.

"Yeah I know… You promised to buy me a new one but I'm still wearing this pitiful tissue!"

"Seemingly I've been breaking many promises as of late." Kahlan countered with a small chuckle. How they managed to slide into a light exchange – with even hints of flirting - at a moment like that she didn't know. But it helped at lessening her seriousness. The imply of them making eyes at each other and the memory of the caresses she had bestowed on Cara when she was recovering drove a peculiar kind of spark down Kahlan's legs. "Let me be fair now and turn around."

"Did you change your mind about me releasing you in lieu of Richard?!" Cara blurted rudely. Purposely tossing Richard into a speech that with Richard had nothing to do. "You want me to take advantage of you? There's no fairness to be expected if I turn around. Don't you know what I want to do to you now?!"

It struck Kahlan again and the desire instantly blazed over her skin and deep into her core. She desperately clutched to the woman in her arms, for she now felt stronger than ever that she wanted Cara to do whatever she wanted to her. For she ignored what things could be done to her and craved to learn each and every single act Cara, in all her expertise, could offer to her. She squeezed her legs together to clamp the wave of lust that was pooling with warm wetness between her thighs, but it wasn't enough. Her body needed to be touched and it moved seemingly on its own accord to achieve what it longed for. She rolled her hips against Cara's toned backside while her hand smoothly slipped under the blonde's nightshift and started traveling along her side. It delicately skimmed from the thigh to the hip and up to the midsection, almost reaching Cara's breast just to return down to possessively grip her hip. Reveling in the smoothness of Cara's skin and quavering with the realization that there weren't undergarments beneath the silken fabric. Dreaming to leave bruised marks there on the Mord-Sith's side. Kahlan's lips ghosted along the nape of Cara's neck, her nose nuzzling into blonde strands and feasting with their scent. Every fairness and Confessor integrity Kahlan thought she had – along with the resolve to confess her sin right at that moment - was washed away with the lechery that Cara whipped out of her.

"I know… And I know that I want you to do that to me…" She breathed out softly into Cara's ear. Her fingers digging into Cara's hip and pulling her closer to her throbbing sex.

Cara loudly moaned and suddenly jerked rolling over; in the blink of an eye Kahlan found herself beneath the Mord-Sith with both her hands pinned over her head and clasped in the blonde's grip. The Confessor hissed in surprise and sparks of excitement burst out of her chest; tingles of pleasure tightening her sex in anticipation. Cara was astraddle her and the pressure of her impossibly warm thighs was urging against her hips. The heat of Cara's groin radiating against Kahlan's lower belly and a hint of the blonde's wetness dampening her shift and promising Kahlan all the things that she had wildly longed in the past months. Kahlan felt heat all over her skin and sweat started coating on her chest, as warm arousal was dripping down her core. Cara's nightshift was gathered and there was barely a thin strip covering the sight of the other woman's sex from Kahlan's eyes. With labored breath Cara began a slow rocking motion; her full lips swollen with desire and eyes dark with hunger mesmerized Kahlan beyond reason. The blush on her cheeks, evidence of how boiling was Cara's blood at that moment, made Kahlan blush in turn with want and modesty at once. Cara's tongue peeked out of her mouth, flickering in the firelight and sweeping over the perfectly shaped upper lip. Making it flicker as well and making it even more inviting to Kahlan, whose lips itched with need to press against Cara's. To suck hard that plump lower lip and slip her tongue into Cara's warm mouth, knowing that she'd be accepted and returned in a long string of deep passionate kisses. The Confessor moaned with scorching desire and her hips slightly lifted and rolled in accord with Cara's motion, breaking a whimper out of the blonde's mouth.

"You're not awful Confessor. But the way you profit of this innocent Mord-Sith is definitely unfair." Cara exhaled breathlessly. She was evidently struggling to keep her motions controlled and her upper body apart from Kahlan. Her lips apart from Kahlan's. Her resistance thinner than ever.

"Innocent?!" Being under a scarcely clothed and evidently aroused Mord-Sith was just clashing with that term to Kahlan.

"Yes, innocent." Cara hissed grinding harder and forcing pants out of Kahlan. She regarded the look of passion upon the brunette and then halted the motion of her hips. "Innocent of the fault of desiring someone for something other than the mere sake of lust. Of the fault of having her earnest lewd fantasies spoiled with sentiments. Of the fault of insistently dreaming of betraying her loyalty." Cara lifted the weight of her hips from the other woman and Kahlan whined at the loss of warmth and pressure.

"Disregarding your feelings won't make them fade away." The brunette appealed. Secretly begging for Cara to come back against her. To remove both hers and Kahlan's shift, nothing but stupid pieces of fabric guilty of the fault of keeping their skins apart.

"Believe me Confessor, this is a lesson since long time learned." Cara replied in a mixture of sensuality and resignation which made Kahlan's stomach roll and flip. Her eyes just entranced with every movement of Cara's lips and her mind hardly processing what Cara was saying while she hovered over her on fours in all her glorious beauty.

"Then stop restraining and accept them. Accept me." Kahlan arched her back and opened her legs as much as Cara's knees allowed her, offering herself. Praying that Cara would acquiesce.

Cara's eyes widened and she swallowed hard. She closed her eyes for a moment furrowing in concentration. Blonde hair dangling around her face and reflecting gold in the soft light of the fireplace. Her allure was making Kahlan ache hard between her legs. The Confessor's eyes rolled down to the hem of the shift that hanged loosely and let showed Cara's breast more than the red leathers usually did, but less than Kahlan craved. Those soft unrestrained curves, so close for her to touch, but at the same time unreachable as long as Cara held her hands in her strong grasp, made Kahlan's mouth watery and the appraisal plain on her face was there at Cara's avail to feel flattered and even more enticed. There was a fire devouring the Confessor from inside like she had never experienced so far. Making her sex pulsing and aching, her nipples tightening and begging for the soft wet touch of Cara's tongue. Every inch of her skin tingled in need for Cara to cover the distance, to press against her, to touch her where she had never been touched. To worship her like she knew Cara was capable of. To love her like she had never been loved before.

"However badly you want something, that doesn't mean that it is rightful for you to have it." Cara managed to counter.

Cara released the grasp on Kahlan's wrists; a bold index traced the length of Kahlan's nose with such a light touch as Kahlan wouldn't deem her capable of. The finger lingered for a moment on the tip of her nose then it briefly slid down to the thin slit between Kahlan's lips and nose just to trip down to the peak of the upper lip. Kahlan's mouth parted to suck air with a breathless intake. Never breaking eye contact, Cara moved her digit on the small dimple in the middle of the other woman's lower lip slightly teasing and stretching it; increasing the width of the cleft of Kahlan's mouth and sensing the hot pants warming her finger pad. Sea-green eyes mesmerized and glued to the perfect mouth of the woman beneath her.

"Badly…" Cara repeated entranced.

The tip of Kahlan's tongue dared to peek out and met Cara's finger pad, but Cara's hand moved to cup Kahlan's jaw; her thumb leaning on the pale cheek and softly stroking there where she had slapped Kahlan. Cara ducked a little, battling and almost relinquishing to the need to claim longed lips that trembled in anticipation, but she stopped with a desperate sigh. Cara knew that she was looking pathetic and idiotic, and she hated that. But her reason screamed treason and froze her still, unable to avert her gaze from Kahlan's flushed face, from Kahlan's ripe lips. Fighting hard the need to lower her hips and press against Kahlan, to taste her mouth and every other inch of her skin. To pleasure her until she'd make her sigh and scream her name in ecstasy.

Kahlan covered Cara's hand - that one the cupped her face - with her own. Their gazes were constantly locked in the semi darkness of the silent room and their labored breaths mingling in the closeness. Kahlan softly skimmed the hand and trailed up the length of Cara's forearm with a loving touch. The blonde was compliant in the caress, though Kahlan could feel a slight tremble in the muscles beneath the smooth skin. She took Cara's hand from her face and brought it to her lips; her eyes moving from Cara's to the captured limb. She kissed the open palm in the spot where the skin was marred because of the recent contact with the Agiel and grazed the hand with feathery touches, feeling how the tremble increased every time her lips made contact and brushed. She placed a path of small kisses up to the heel of Cara's hand and then she turned it around and kissed her knuckles one by one. Vague hints of scabs left from the furious fight were still there and Kahlan briefly swept her tongue upon that rough surface as if wanting to taste it. To comprehend it. Her eyes moved back again to meet the other woman's. She gently urged Cara's hand open and laid the palm upon her chest. Above her heart. Her hand covering Cara's and holding it there. The blonde let her do as she wished all the time, unable to make a stand. Cara felt the thundering of that precious heart under her palm and it felt like nothing else in the world mattered other than Kahlan's feelings.

"Cara... my Cara..." She whispered in a pure transport of emotion. She brought the other hand behind Cara's neck and grasped blonde locks, before softly pulling her close. "Please, take me Cara…" Despite the word choice, that wasn't in the slightest a plea.

And Cara broke in surrendered to the command she was given.

She fell down and attacked Kahlan's lips with the fervor of cramped desire and tumbling emotions bottled into her for much too long of time and finally released. Kahlan sank down on the pillow under Cara's momentum and burning kisses; she felt the entire length of the other woman pressing against her. Lips brushing, tongues dancing and clashing with urgency and need. Kahlan buried her hands in blonde locks, tangling and holding Cara even closer, then scraping her scalp with feral passion as Cara intently dipped her tongue into her mouth. Frenzied hands tugged at the hem of Kahlan's shift to lift it enough so that Cara's strong smooth thigh could take place between her legs. Kahlan's long obscene moan as Cara's skin made direct contact with her needy sex was mirrored by a guttural groan from the back of the Mord-Sith's throat at the feeling of the evidence of Kahlan's wet arousal. The way Kahlan was showing herself responsive, the sounds she was emitting and the damp between her thighs were a prized reward to Cara, who bit down her lower lip and sucked it hard. Kahlan panted roughly, lost in the pleasure of the touch between her legs. Wanting to increase the skin to skin contact, the Confessor brusquely pulled at Cara's shift and the obliging Mord-Sith broke the kiss and sat on her heels, promptly lifting her arms in the air to ease the operation. Kahlan hastily pulled it off and the garment immediately fell discarded on the floor; Cara's hair swooshed down on her shoulders and Kahlan almost wept at the sight of the beauty of the woman she loved. Cara was wild with passion and completely naked above her, bronze skin almost glowing in the soft light of the flickering fire. She grabbed Cara's waist and pulled her against her lifted thigh, prodding her into a rolling motion. Cara bent forward and braced on her arms; a strangled moan escaping her lips and eyes rolled back with rapture. The liquid arousal coating Cara's sex painted Kahlan's leg and eased the exquisite riding motion that was soon picking up a faster pace. The urgency Kahlan felt to please the other woman was equal to her own need to be sated.

Never ceasing to ride Kahlan's leg, Cara flexed her arms and fell forward to join their lips again in a new string of bruising kisses; whispering the other woman's name with desperate longing in time with the thrusts of her hips. She lowered to suck and nip Kahlan's neck; the soft warmth of her tongue urging shivers down Kahlan's spine and the Confessor dug her fingers deep in Cara's waist. The Mord-Sith cupped both her breasts and grunted feeling fabric instead of skin. She sat again on her heels and worked at Kahlan's shift; the Confessor pliantly lifted her hips and in the blink of an eye the shift was flying over her head. Sweating and panting, Cara froze with wide eyes avidly drinking the sight of the woman beneath her. The raven expanse of Kahlan's dark hair sprawled on the white pillow was framing the features that had haunted Cara's hottest dreams for ages. Kahlan in her nude was a beauty almost blinding.

"Spirits Kahlan… you're amazing…" She breathlessly cried and Kahlan grabbed her by her shoulders putting their bodies together again; legs entwined and mouths got lost in deep kisses. Breasts pressed and hands started touching, caressing, exploring.

When Cara moved down to Kahlan's neck with a trail of wet kisses the brunette cupped her backside and held on her tightly, sighing and panting the other woman's name as Cara's thigh was again applied against her center. Cara lowered more until she circled a rosy nipple with a light brush of her tongue; Kahlan dug her nails into toned buttocks and arched her back with uncontrolled desire. Intent licks on Kahlan's nipple were followed by Cara's warm wet mouth encompassing the tightened peak; the circling play of her tongue against it was relentless and making Kahlan helplessly whimper with wanton. When Cara sucked gently Kahlan rolled her head backwards crying disarticulated sounds; when Cara scraped with her teeth and soothingly swept again her tongue around the tightened nipple, Kahlan gasped and scratched her nails along Cara's back. The Confessor cried her name and looked down to Cara, seeking for her gaze and begging for another kiss but blonde tousled strands concealed her eyes and Cara was already veering to the other breast. Kahlan couldn't bring herself to stop her and as Cara tasted and graced her again in the same heady way, the brunette fisted her locks and pressed her head harder against the softness of her chest. All of her senses focused on the woman close to her and her consciousness entirely reaching up to the throb of her tightening core. With every brush of Cara's leg, with every suction of her mouth the flow of her pleasure increased and she felt like her muscles were becoming stronger and weaker at once. Like she could soar to unbelievable heights, but at the same time she was grounded by the struggle to build up a pleasure as explosive as she hadn't imagined before. Her body yearning for it all and all now, yet wanting it to last the longest possible. Never in her life had Kahlan experienced something like that; the sensuality of the seduction and the complete abandon to the physical and emotional feelings. The unbridled transport she was living now, being loved by her one true love.

Kahlan's power was already beating hard against the walls of her constriction. When Cara left her nipple with a soft smack, she panted and got a grip on her magic only to get lost again as she saw the blonde coming to join their lips one more time. Just a slight brush while their foreheads were leaning; a heavy lidded Cara exhaled in her mouth.

"I've never felt like this with anyone…"

And she pulled her into a kiss gentle and slow. The all consuming passion replaced by a no less mind-blowing display of reverent love and utter adoration. The sweetness of Cara's mouth was heady; Kahlan gave herself in and returned the kiss conveying all the tenderness she had in the touch. As their tongues glided and danced against each other, as their lips were pressing and brushing with a gentle cadence, as their bodies seamlessly molded against each other with the sweetest of the dances, Kahlan almost lost sense of reality and just floated in the fullness of her love with Cara. Her legs naturally eased spread open and the Mord-Sith shifted back her thigh, fading out the contact between them. Kahlan whimpered in Cara's mouth, before feeling the blonde's hand brushing down her belly and tenderly cupping her hot sex.

"Do you trust me Kahlan?" She softly whispered in Kahlan's mouth and before the Confessor could process it, Cara was nipping and licking her neck, while her fingers tentatively explored her folds with gentle strokes. She teased Kahlan's clit and bit the underside of her chin as the brunette desperately moaned and rasped her head against the pillows. Cara's knowing fingers slid to her dampened center and slightly dipped in as she was now suckling again Kahlan's nipple. And Kahlan felt like she couldn't take in anymore; her magic slamming hard against her walls, as furiously as her sizzling body was pulsing in need to be pleased. As her necessity to be filled from Cara screamed painfully and tortured her with a burning ache, incapacitating her to articulate anything but obscene breathless sounds.

"I trust you Kahlan. With all of my heart. Like I never trusted before…" Ripe lips brushed against her throat and Kahlan released a long desperate cry of need that Cara swallowed in a new deep kiss.

Until the sharp realization of the meaning of Cara's last words ripped through the rapture wrapped around Kahlan's mind. Cara was trusting her… literally putting her life in her hands and she… she hadn't still confessed to her the truth. And what was worse was that it was her who had traitorously pushed Cara into her arms. Her deceptive undeserving arms.

"Cara wait…" She forced herself to an over human effort and suddenly pulled the blonde away. Their lips parted with a pop and Kahlan blocked Cara's hand by her wrist with a firm grip. It physically hurt her – interrupting the craved connection just at the moment when it was about to become sublime - but she couldn't let this happen between them until she released the truth. And once the truth was released it would probably never happen, a part of her bitterly whined.

"Don't worry Kahlan, you can't hurt me." Cara murmured reassuringly, dropping sweet pecks on Kahlan's lips. The tenderness of her care breaking Kahlan's heart even more.

"I can instead…" Kahlan sobbed, holding her back and squeezing her eyes where uncontrolled frustration tears were already starting to gather. The kind of hurt she had in her mind was different from what Cara thought, but any less dangerous. "We can't…"

"Shush Kahlan, it's all right…" Cara insisted with a warm whisper, caressing her hair. Her lips never ceasing to brush against Kahlan's, sweet and encouraging.

"No Cara, it's not!" Kahlan cried and grabbed the other woman by her shoulders, forcing her apart. "We can't… It's me… I can't…"

Finally Cara fathomed that there was something more than the first time nervous waver or the fear for an impending release of confession worrying Kahlan. She withdrew and stared straight at her face. The Confessor's chest was heavy with a labored breath that spoke about upset other than arousal. Her lips were shaky and her cheeks blushed, signs that Cara would normally consider positive given the circumstances, but Kahlan's blue eyes were troubled and wet. Cara felt her heart sinking somewhere low in her stomach and all the air was taken from her lungs as she realized… Kahlan didn't really want this… Part of her wanted, the sensual call of the lust was luring the Confessor strong, but now that things were getting serious and irrevocable, she was recoiling. Kahlan wasn't feeling what Cara had thought she felt. Kahlan didn't really want her. Kahlan's heart didn't really belong with hers…

Cara froze and gaped, stunned with the blow of having been pushed over the edge of her well trained resistance, coaxed into giving in to her reluctance, begged to renounce to the massive defenses built around her heart just to be harshly disillusioned. How could she ever have thought that Kahlan could be… Suddenly the hurt burn so hot that she couldn't even articulate the absurd eventuality. Suddenly she felt like she was the most pitiful fool and idiot woman of the world. Cara felt the small implosion of her exposed and rejected heart, which shut off in the attempt to let out emotions. She tried to blink away that hideous vulnerability she was sporting and to summon the cold comfortable Mord-Sith mask to replace the pathetic love struck idle woman in the Confessor's arms, but it didn't entirely work. The hole, the devastation was just too wide this time to be ignored. It even made Cara overlook to blame Kahlan for having again led her on for a voluptuous foretaste when she knew that she lacked that particular feeling that would allow her to give a proper continuation. After all, it wasn't much different from what Cara had done to her in that shed not a long time before. Tit for tat was an even regard and Cara undoubtedly deserved being mistreated and tormented, like it was proper to deal with a Mord-Sith.

Cara moved back and sat on her heels on the edge of the bed; as more distance was put between them it seemed like confidence abandoned Kahlan, who probably out of modesty habit – but making it painfully clear that there wasn't complicity and intimacy to be shared - hurried at covering up with a flap of the sheet. Cara's face turned around not capable of standing the pity she knew she'd certainly find in Kahlan's eyes.

"That's all right. We shouldn't. It's been foolishness… we've been fool and rash." She coldly dropped.

"No Cara, let me explain. It's not that I-"

"Shut up Kahlan!" Cara spun her face with a twitch so quick that could have almost snapped her neck. "There's no need for explanations. It just can't be. I know my place. I know what can't and can never be."

The words sounded harsh but earnest. And Cara was spelling them mostly to herself than to the Confessor. With whoever else, she could have claimed for a bit of enjoyable sex and just throw herself headlong in the pleasure. But not when it came to Kahlan; with Kahlan it could never be only a matter of sex. Regardless of how Kahlan may think of dealing with Richard - and his postulation for monogamy - now that her physical desire for someone else other than him was plain, Cara had known all the time that this couldn't really happen. Not between a Mord-Sith and the Mother Confessor.

Cara recalled one more time what she had recently witnessed about Kahlan, a reminder of how foolish she had been to believe in what she wanted instead of seeing the whole picture. The way Kahlan had acted when she was led by the most compulsive impulses bore testament of a side in the Confessor's feelings that Kahlan herself didn't seem to acknowledge. Back then Cara's eyes were forced open about Kahlan's deepest instincts, but she however fell in the tricky temptation of hoping, of being deaf to the unpleasant side of the matter, paying only attention to what she wanted to hear.

"You don't understand! I want you, but-"

"Stop it!" She brusquely raised her palms in an imperative gesture. "I've been broken Kahlan. Many times. In many ways. Please…" The way she pronounced that please, the way her hard tone slipped to a broken supplicant one froze the Confessor up to her bones. An infinite resignation, as she never heard in the steadfast Mord-Sith's voice, trembled out of her lips and made the brunette's insides churn with angst. "Please don't you break me too. I don't think I could stand it if you would." … and if now I was to hear from your lips that you don't love me I'd be forever broken…

The blade of guilt sank up to the hilt into Kahlan's chest. For she was openly told that if she'd confess the truth – that she'd been a vicious monster to Cara in that clearing - she'd break her beyond repair. But if she'd keep the truth from her, her Confessor nature would never allow her to freely love Cara; she'd just tarnish everything with an even more unforgivable guilt. However she confessed – speaking the truth or making love with Cara - it would go awry. In any case she was losing her love.

Maybe it was some sort of balance of fate, which was imposing her to make amends for her fault. Maybe there was some justice in this situation, where whatever she tried to pursue – her love or the truth – she'd however ruin everything. But to the just Confessor it only tasted like unfairness and despair. If she couldn't get what she wanted, at least she wouldn't tear Cara unnecessarily apart telling her things that Cara didn't need to know if there wasn't a future for them anyway.

"I'm sorry Cara. I can't do that..." She lamely offered, knowing that Cara didn't want to hear any humbling excuse.

"I understand." The blonde confirmed with a curt nod and her face back to raw asperity. "Now I think I need to sleep." She smoothed the mattress, implying her request for being alone.

"Sure you do." Kahlan lifted up, quickly recovering and swiftly wearing her nightshift.

She moved to the door and looked back; Cara was frozen in place and was still sitting on the edge of the bed, her face blank and lost starting at some indefinite point on the floor. She was still naked and beautiful as anything.

"Goodnight Cara." She whispered, and it entirely sounded like a goodbye; a couple of tears rolled down Kahlan's tense cheek. But Cara was turned around and didn't see them. She didn't say a word in return neither move a muscle.

Kahlan exited from the room with her heart definitively broken.

.

it's unnecessary to say that i'm sorry for such a long wait. i have to say that RL has become crazy lately, more than before. so i really have no idea when i'm going to post the next chapter, i havent even started .. super le sigh**
i can only say that i'd hate myself if i were to leave the story unfinished. and i dont want to lose what i strained to gain in terms of english knowledge and writing skill during the past years, like i would if i were to stop writing my fic.

curiositites about this chapter and AOB:
1- i think that the verse of the song 'secret life' i chose as a title for this chapter was inspired from a very interesting tale about saint augustine.
2- although the corrs are and always will be my source of inspiration for this fic (other than my fav band ever after) this chapter was highly inspired from the song 'the closest thing to crazy' from katie melua. i'm currently having a big musical crush for this amazing girl and her melancholy blues. i suggest the listening of said outrageously romantic song, most of which lyric magically leaked into this chapter ;)
3- another notch in my age count today O_O... maybe i shoud make an institution of posting in the day of my birthday XD
4- ... i was recently told that there's an upcoming album from the corrs... after 10 years from Home the dream is coming true! squeeee! and it's going to be on 27 november... yeah my band is providing a gift to me ;) hopefully they'll also provide an extra inspiration that will push me to be productive with my fic