Disclaimer: We own none of the characters in this fic. The rather wonderful ladies belong to Terry Goodkind and ABC.
This is the first fanfiction collaboration written by me (Red) and White Silk (also know as White.) We hope you enjoy it ^_^
Chapter One
After so many months of travelling with the same small group, it was unsettling to be almost alone for once. Kahlan often found herself turning to smile at Richard, or to offer Zedd a few of the berries she had picked the last time they stopped for a rest. Her smile quickly faded and her words cut off every time she turned around, expecting to see caring brown eyes and a warm smile, or to hear the wizard accept her offer of food before she had even finished saying it, only to be greeted by the sight of her own footprints and a pair of scowling green eyes.
The night before, Richard had informed them that the compass was pointing south-east, across the border and into D'Haran forests. He had also pointed out that the group was running low on provisions: Zedd claimed to have no idea where all the dried meat kept disappearing to, suggesting that maybe it was a particularly brave chipmunk raiding the group's supplies. Richard had conceded the point with a chuckle, saying that they still needed to restock before continuing. However, according to Cara, the part of D'Hara they would be entering was uninhabited; there were no settlements for many miles on the D'Haran side. Crossing the border itself was also a problem: the Midland-D'Hara border to the South was well-known for its high gar population. If they were to resupply, they would have to visit a Midlands town before crossing over.
After many hours of debating the wisest course of action, it was decided that two of them should go on into D'Hara, whilst the other two would head to the nearest town, Arcaston, and buy the necessary provisions before meeting up again in the D'Haran hinterlands. The question was who should go across the boundary first?
'Well, I need to, as the compass will only work for me.' Richard stated, patting the pocket it sat in. 'Kahlan, you know the town, so maybe you should go there.' Kahlan nodded, running the various trails and roads through her mind, trying to think of the shortest route there. There was a brief discussion on who should accompany Kahlan, with Richard finally deciding that Cara would be the best option: she knew the D'Haran landscape better than Zedd, so she would be able to find her way around better. They decided that the four would meet up at an old abandoned healer's outpost Cara had visited before, in the southeast of the country. After a rushed goodbye, with Richard promising he'd see her again soon (and Cara rolling her eyes in the background), they went their separate ways.
Now, as they walked along the well-trodden trail, Kahlan decided that being without the men for while wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. She had found that spending time with Cara, whilst topics were relatively thin on the ground, was rather entertaining: the blonde's dry, sarcastic humour made Kahlan laugh a lot more that it used to, and she was fairly certain she'd managed to make the Blonde smile more than once; every time she mentioned this, Cara would insist the brunette was seeing things and would work hard to maintain a neutral face for the next few hours. Making Cara smile had become a source of pride for Kahlan and she strived to do it as often as possible. Once, she had even heard the blonde laugh, though it was cut off rather suddenly, but Kahlan couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the evening.
She'd noticed more and more that Cara seemed to be relaxing around her new companions. She was more likely to stay around the campfire instead of walking off to 'patrol the area.' Sometimes, she even joined in with the camp banter, throwing in occasional comments and observations. Kahlan had joked that Cara was in danger of become chatty, receiving only a grunt in return.
There was still a long way to go, but the woman finally seemed to be starting along the route to becoming the woman her training had hidden away for so long. She felt an odd sense of achievement and pride in her part of helping Cara adjust to a normal life – well, more normal than before at least. Questing across the Territories, trying to find a mythical stone to lock the Keeper of the Underworld away in his fiery green chasm wasn't the most normal of ways to spend your time. She often wondered if Cara felt any pride in their quest and if she knew that she was much more than a weapon to them. So much more. She had become a central part of their group: a talented fighter, a knowledgeable strategist and, to Kahlan, a trusted friend.
Kahlan was rather happy to be alone with the blonde; she found Cara more likely to respond amicably when they were away from the men; she guessed it was because, like Kahlan, Cara's childhood was spent mostly in female company. They both grew up with only the companionship of their fellow sisters. Kahlan remembered with a slight blush a few small comments Cara had made that left no doubt in her mind just how close the Mord'Sith were. She was both intrigued by the special bond the Mord'Sith shared and flustered by the mental images her mind managed to conjure. She remembered her own experience in the 'skin' of a Mord'Sith and wondered dimly how much easier it would be to remove with an extra pair of hands. A more furious blush heated up her cheeks this time and she tried to force the thoughts out her mind.
The sound of someone saying her name brought her out of her unusual thoughts and she looked up (she hadn't actually noticed her gaze dropping to the floor in the first place) to find Cara standing in front of her, looking bemused. They had stopped at a split in the trail and Cara had looked to her for direction. She gestured to the left fork, murmuring her apologies. She tilted her head slightly when Cara stepped towards her instead of walking on.
The blonde tugged off one of her gloves and pressed the backs of two fingers to Kahlan's forehead.
'You're all red.' She pressed the fingers a little harder, frowning slightly. 'No obvious temperature.' Kahlan lifted a hand to bat away Cara's fingers, working hard to steady her expression.
'I'm fine. Just a little warm, that's all.' The blonde's eyes flicked to the scenery, taking in the frost clinging tenaciously to every surface it could and exhaled a long stream of vaporous breath before raising an eyebrow and retaking the brunette's gaze.
'Right. Warm.' Cara frowned again, poking her fingers back into the leather of her glove. Kahlan pulled her hair over her shoulder, forcing the colour from her cheeks.
'Shall we continue?' She said brusquely, moving past Cara to stride off down the path.
Soon, the sun began to set, their lengthening shadows marking its slow surrender to the rising moon. The clouds had all but dissipated, leaving the moon's silvery light to filter into the darkening wood, lending it an ethereal feel and a serene, haunting beauty. Walking silently along the forest trail, a mile or so away from the town, Kahlan was pointedly keeping her thoughts away from Cara. She allowed her mind to wander, thinking of the trail they were on and how it linked up to a well-travelled road, at least three or four miles to the west; the road to Aydindril, her home. She smiled wistfully as she thought of the bustling city and of the purer-than-snow walls of the Confessor's palace. She also thought of the People's palace, in D'Hara, where Cara would have lived. She had read about its soaring walls that rose to dizzying heights, the mass of people that seemed to stream in and out of its colossal gates out onto the surrounding plains. Apparently, it was a building of unparalleled splendour and grace, one she wished greatly to see. Maybe one day they would visit, the four of them. She supposed that Richard would have to and that Cara would probably follow him. She also remembered her promise to return to Aydindril as soon as possible and Zedd would undoubtedly follow. It seemed that as soon as their quest would be over and the four of them would have to go their separate ways. It would likely take at least a year to reorder the Midlands and consolidate the rule of D'Hara. A year without Richard and Cara. She didn't like the sound of that.
She was brought out of her troubling thoughts by the sound of movement behind her. She heard an agiel being unsheathed and felt a hand grab the hood on the back of her dress, yanking her backwards roughly. She stumbled, only just keeping her feet, watching a pair of blood-red boots stride ahead of her. She unsheathed her daggers, scrambling to find her balance as people began to appear. The rotted patches and occasional lack of skin marring the yellowed sea of faces left no doubt as to what they were facing: Banelings.
There had to be at least fifteen of them, yelling and screaming unintelligibly, running towards them with various rusted weapons raised over their heads. Cara took down two quickly and efficiently, with a single touch of an agiel before looking over her shoulder to check on the brunette. Kahlan ignored the glance in her direction and cut down two of her own. She straightened up and nodded her appreciation to Cara, who was still looking at her worriedly. She threw a dagger at Cara, which the blonde instinctively dodged, letting it thud into the enemy which had sneaking up behind her. She let out a small laugh of appreciation for the shot before running to meet another pair of their attackers. Sprinting to retrieve the knife, she found it embedded deep in the forehead of a rotted middle-aged man. She looked away, shuddering at the sucking sound it made as it came free. She heard a low grunt close to her, looking up to see Cara standing over her, fighting two of the banelings. Standing up once more, Kahlan cut the throat of one and the scream of an agiel told her that Cara caught another. A thickset man wielding a large axe let out a yell, charging towards them, swinging wildly. As she jumped forward, Kahlan noticed a blur of red leather mirror her actions. She drove a dagger into the man's chest, feeling it collide with bone and tear through muscle and saw an agiel press against the centre beside her hand. She wasn't sure which one of them it was, but the man dropped to the floor heavily, his axe embedding itself in the dirt. Instantly, Kahlan jumped back, taking down another before whipping around in the other direction, dagger held out, sending a small splash of blood into her next attacker's eyes, blinding him momentarily as she darted forward, finishing him quickly. Kahlan caught sight of a man behind Cara, but she was too far away: she'd never be able reach them in time. She cried out in warning as the man brought his sword down, intending to cleave Cara in two.
It seemed almost effortless on Cara's behalf: she reached up a hand, grasping the man's thick wrist before pulling it down, flipping him over her shoulder. He hit the ground with a loud thump, impaling himself on his own snapped sword blade. He squealed in surprised pain, clawing at the shattered metal, slicing his fingers. Kahlan sprinted forward to finish him with a dagger through his heart, ending his wild thrashing. Cara charged off, killing two more while Kahlan dealt with one that attempted to surprise her. The last baneling, a thin female, stood still, a short sword gripped tightly in her fist.
Kahlan gritted her teeth and lunged forward, dagger raised.
"Wait!" A high-pitched voice screamed and the baneling fell to her knees, dropping the sword to the side as she held up her hands in a supplication for mercy. Her brown eyes swam with tears as she looked up at Kahlan, her bottom lip quivering. Kahlan's resolve faltered. The girl couldn't be any older than 15. She turned to look at Cara, who was approaching with her weapons still drawn, eyeing the last baneling with suspicion and anger. She then saw Cara's eyes widen in surprise and fear, her step quickening, causing Kahlan to turn her head so quickly she felt muscles strain. The girl had pulled a small knife from her belt and began to drive it towards Kahlan with a look of triumph in her eyes.
She felt a sharp, searing pain as the knife sliced through her skin, but she was just far away enough for it to be relatively shallow. She gritted her teeth, letting out a low grunt of pain. Her grip on her daggers tightened and she began to spin on her heel, bringing the blade through the air so fast it whistled. She felt the resistance as it collided with the girl's neck, cutting through flesh and muscle and tendon, before coming out of the other side, splattering a spray of blood across Kahlan's face. The girl's hand half rose to touch the wound as her legs collapsed beneath her, dropping her to the floor.
Kahlan stood for a while, ignoring the bitter taste of blood on her tongue, feeling the slow ebb of her adrenaline. It began to fade as her breathing settled, bringing the pain of her strained neck muscles, aching limbs and finally the sharp pain of the cut. She groaned again, dropping the daggers to the floor, raising her hand to the wound. Blood oozed over the split in the leather of her corset, soaking into her dress. Cara stepped forward, pressing her hands to either side of the wound, pulling the leather apart gently, eliciting a hiss from Kahlan. She muttered a hurried apology before tearing a strip off of a vanquished baneling's shirt and pressing it against the wound, telling Kahlan to hold it tight against the cut, in order to stem the blood flow.
'We need to leave this place before...' Kahlan gestured weakly with her free hand to the banelings lying around them. Cara nodded and shouldered both of their packs, ignoring the brunette's protests. She wiped the mud and gore off of Kahlan's daggers before tucking them back into her long leather boots then with a small glance to Kahlan's waiting eyes, started off down the path again, agiel grasped firmly in hand.
- Cara's POV-
"Ridiculous people." She muttered under her breath as another villager hurried to get out of their way. Fear was a reaction she had become used to whenever she encountered people but right now it wasn't exactly going to help get the Confessor's injury seen to.
"We'll have to go to the inn; I don't think anyone will be exactly happy to help us." Kahlan spoke objectively with a glance at her leather and Cara nodded, if they were to go to the healer now, as Confessor and Mord'Sith, she was almost certain they would find them 'otherwise engaged'; she really hoped this would not mean she had to wear a dress again. The late hour and the name of Mother Confessor was enough to provide them with a room for the night but Cara noted the reluctance in the man's voice as he admitted they had a room available. He apologised for the small room in a quiet voice, saying if he had known the Mother Confessor would be visiting he would have reserved the largest. Kahlan, ever the people person, smiled and told him whatever he had would be fine but he didn't seem to relax: Cara would have to be blind and stupid not to notice the way he glanced at her every few seconds. With an approving smile she judged the room to be at least satisfactory, a small window gave them a good view out into the street, a comfort as far as defence went, and the bed was certainly big enough for the pair of them. Her thoughts strayed to the possibilities brought up by sharing a bed with the Confessor but she forced them away, as much as she may want otherwise, Kahlan thought of her as a friend and nothing more. The woman herself interrupted her thoughts by entering behind her and dropping some clothes onto the small table by the window.
"The Innkeeper was more than happy to provide us with these; it might help to tone down the villager's reactions if you weren't in uniform." The brunette looked a little apologetic but Cara responded with a simple nod. At least it wasn't a dress.
"I suppose it's practical. But first you need to wash up; I doubt the baneling's blade was clean." She indicated to Kahlan's injury that had stopped bleeding on the way here but still seemed more than a scratch. The baneling had been mildly intelligent, regardless of the futility she could respect the use of tactics; taking advantage of the Mother Confessors well known mercy was a good move to make. The depth of the scratch also showed that the girl must have had a little strength behind her swing, if no skill; she would have aimed for kidneys if presented with her opponents back in such a way but she supposed she should be glad of the girl's inexperience.
Kahlan dragged her from her thoughts with a small grunt of pain as she attempted to unlace her corset. With a roll of her eyes Cara stepped forward, all but slapping the woman's hands out of the way and replacing them with her own, careful to keep her eyes on the ties and not the things contained within. This was a little more than futile given that the more Cara undid the more of the Confessor was on show; she noted the brunette stayed completely still as she worked but guessed it was due to the discomfort of her injury. When she was done she moved her hand up to pull the lace off fully, the back of her gloved brushing across the bare skin of the confessor's chest accidently. Instantly she moved away but the warmth of Kahlan still reached her hand even through the leather. With a small nod to the Confessor she turned her back to give her privacy and rubbed the back of her hand, forcing the feeling away with a slight frown; why was the woman so warm?
"Cara, would you mind ..." Kahlan's voice trailed off and Cara spun to face her, raising her eyebrow slightly in a questioning gesture.
"Um... I can't really reach my back..." The brunette was holding her corset together over herself as she spoke and Cara gave a simple nod.
"I'll go get water." She turned and left without looking back: they couldn't clean an injury without clean water.
After asking a very flustered, stuttering woman at the bar for a bowl of water and a clean cloth, she found Kahlan lying face down on the bed. Creator, have mercy. She forced back a sigh as her eyes wandered over the pale white skin of the Confessor.
"I guessed this would be easier..." The woman sounded unsure as she glanced over her shoulder at her and Cara gave a nonchalant shrug in return.
"It's fine." She walked forward and set the bowl down next to the Confessor, climbing onto the bed and placing a leg on either side of the brunette's hips, being careful to keep her weight off of the woman below her. With great care she started to clean the streaks of blood marking the Confessors skin, noting a few paler lines here and there that she quickly recognised as scars. Of course, the Confessor had been in many battles, so a few scars was expected, though the woman didn't have nearly as many as Cara had herself, nor were they as obvious. Then again, her skin was a little darker than that of the snow-white woman beneath her, making the pale lines stand out in contrast. Her thoughts were again interrupted as she noticed the tension forming in the Confessor's muscles. With a small frown she paused in cleaning the blood and set the cloth down, bringing her hands to her mouth one at a time and biting off her gloves. Maybe she wouldn't hurt her so much this way... As she went back to cleaning and set her hand on the woman's skin she felt her flinch and cursed her own strength. There was going to be no way to do this without hurting the Confessor a little but she felt a surprising urge to make it as painless as possible; a very strange impulse for a Mord'Sith.
After some time of working on the cut, and despite being as careful as anyone could be, the Confessor's shoulders still did not relax and she gave an exasperated sigh.
"I can't be any gentler." She muttered in annoyance, almost to herself but Kahlan answered anyway.
"I know; that's the problem." Her quiet tone suggested that the brunette was talking mostly to herself but there was an odd edge to her voice that seemed to have nothing to do with pain. A small smirk spread across her face as it dawned on her that the Confessor may be uncomfortable but it may not have all that much to do with her injury. A mischievous plan formed in her mind as she brushed the cloth lightly over the wound. She really shouldn't tease the Confessor in such a way but if she couldn't have her to herself, she could at least allow herself a little amusement in this. Going back to cleaning, she kept her touch as light as before but allowed a free hand to slide gently over the Confessor's uninjured skin, small circles of her thumb at first but changing to working out the tension that was ever increasing in the brunettes shoulders. By the time the blood was all cleaned away the Confessor was far more relaxed, the muscles of her back almost liquid under her fingers.
"There. All clean." She smirked as she got up and heard Kahlan give a noise of confusion; clearly the woman had forgotten exactly what Cara had been doing in the first place.
"Something on your mind Confessor?" She tilted her head with a teasing smirk as Kahlan's cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink.
"Nothing. Thank you. For your help." She spoke hurriedly and Cara let her smirk grow into a lazy grin.
"Anytime ." She ran her finger up the centre of the Confessors back as she turned away, watching with a satisfied smirk as all of her work relaxing the woman vanished in an instant before moving across the room to close the curtains of the small window and starting to get changed. She left Kahlan to compose herself now that she'd had her fun, and what fun it had been.
As she finished lacing up the dark brown trousers the innkeeper had provided a soft touch on her back made her freeze. She hadn't even heard Kahlan approach and now her hands were tracing lightly over areas Cara knew were marked with scars. After a moment of dead silence, Kahlan spoke softly,
"You've been hurt a lot." It was merely an observation but the quiet voice of the Confessor almost sent a shiver down her spine.
"Injuries are nothing to a Mord'Sith." She gave the reflexive answer instantly, forcing back any emotion from her voice as she straightened up slightly. Mord'Sith were proud of their scars, they made them who they were, but with Kahlan's fingertips tracing over each one in turn she was starting to curse the Keeper that she had any at all.
"Something on your mind Cara?" She heard the amusement in the other woman's voice and cursed herself silently, attempting to force away the feel of the brunettes gentle and soft hands against her skin while she thought of a plan. Heavily distracted or not, one came to her and she grinned, turning and catching Kahlan's hands, making no attempt to cover herself. As expected the lily-white skin of the Confessor's face flushed a deep crimson at the sight of her bare chest and Cara allowed a triumphant smirk to come onto her face. The Confessor was playing with fire; if she expected Cara to turn into a simpering mess with a few touches on her back, the woman had a thing or two to learn about Mord'Sith.
"Not at all, Kahlan." She let her smirk grow slightly as she watched the other woman's eyes flicker down for the briefest of moments before returning to her eyes. After only a second they flickered down again to her chest, and a few more times after that before Kahlan's hands pulled free of her grip and moved down. Cara didn't realise she was holding her breath until her lungs started screaming for attention and she carefully exhaled, not letting her need for oxygen show as she tried to regulate her breathing. Her own eyes locked onto Kahlan's hand as it moved forward, making her flinch as it came to rest on one of her fresher scars, the skin still raised slightly over the crescent shape just at the base of her ribs. Her eyes threatened to drop closed as she felt the soft brush of the other woman's fingers move across her scar and come to a stop on the side of her ribs, followed by a thumb that traced lightly back and forth across the raised skin. Kahlan eyes moved back up to meet hers once more and Cara felt as though she was falling into them, something dragging her forward toward the brunette as the thumb continued moving in an oddly comforting and almost hypnotising way.
With a sharp shake of her head Cara stepped back, grabbing the shirt from behind her and turning away to pull it on.
"I'm going to get some food." She started toward the door, still buttoning the shirt, refusing to look at the brunette. That had been close, too close. She shut the door behind her and leant against it, making sure the shirt was closed enough to cover herself before letting her head drop back against the wood and her eyes close. Another minute and she may have done something she'd regret, what was she thinking teasing the Confessor like that?! More to the point, what was the Confessor doing?! Touching her in such a way and standing so close. At first it had been payback, a game, simply something to amuse themselves with but what was all the staring? Something in Kahlan's eyes was odd, something she wasn't familiar with. Not wanting to delve too deeply into that she gave a small sigh and straightened up, pushing the thoughts away. She'd started it so any response by the Confessor was probably just to pay her back. Maybe she'd given too much away in that last few minutes but when she returned with supper they wouldn't speak of it at all. With that decided in her mind she strode off downstairs, it was late but she recalled the barmaid telling the brunette that they always had food stocked so there would be no trouble there. Unlike everything else that was going on tonight.
- Kahlan's POV –
She heard rather than saw the door close, keeping her eyes on the place where Cara had stood, one hand holding the thin sheet around her, the other running through the front of her hair as she replayed the last few minutes in her head.
She could still feel Cara's soft skin against the pads of her fingers, the smooth, waxen feel of the scars and her warmth, the feel of pulsing life and taut muscle under yielding, tanned flesh. She absentmindedly brought the hand to her face, running the thumb over her dry lips, her eyes staring fixedly at nothing, recalling Cara's smirk and her own smile that came unbidden to her mouth at the look of confusion and alarm in Cara's eyes. Any confidence she had previously felt was long gone as she stood woodenly in front of the window, her mind unable to settle on one thought. She forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to bring some order to the chaotic flood of conflicting emotions and thoughts thundering through her mind.
Dear spirits...
Confusion finally won out. She had no idea why she had acted in such a way. How could she have been so weak? What could have possibly made her touch Cara in such a manner?
'Something on your mind, Confessor?'
She had expected Cara's touch to be effective and practical, tending to the wound quickly and efficiently before making a smart remark. She shivered as she remembered the ghosting trail of Cara's hand mapping its way across the sensitive skin of her back. The pain of her cut had paled in comparison to the other sensations Cara's far-too-gentle-touches had made her feel. Her eyelids felt heavy, but every time she closed them, she could see Cara's green eyes staring into her own, her full lips ever so slightly parted-
Kahlan. She mentally berated herself, cutting off her train of thought abruptly.
You've never thought this way about Richard... She ignored this sly comment spoken by a teasing voice that sounded a lot like Cara.
She had definitely thought of Richard fondly, imagined him holding her tightly, whispering that he loved her, tucking hair behind her ear. She thought of him as sweet and caring. Whilst Cara's gentle approach to cleaning her cut had betrayed her care, the suggestive comments and skilled hands raised unbidden thoughts that surely would have made even the Mord'Sith blush. She had never thought like that about anyone before. The true base of her problems was not that she didn't think about Richard in such a way it was that she was thinking that way about Cara. Her friend. The Mord'Sith.
She thought about the appellation for a while. Mistress Cara. She let her mind wander back to before; thinking about the relationship a Mord'Sith had with her sisters. Her touches must have seemed like that of a child compared to the skill a Mord'Sith could exhibit. She felt her cheeks flush as she imagined Cara laughing in her face, telling her that she was used to a little more... woman than Kahlan could ever hope to match. She felt an odd twinge of what felt like jealousy in the pit of her stomach.
She remembered coming up behind Cara, her eyes running along the thin white lines curving across golden skin. She remembered raising her hand and feeling Cara's muscles tense immediately. She must have been confused as to what Kahlan was doing, not feeling anything like what she had done to Kahlan: Cara was practised, she knew what she was doing, but Kahlan was woefully inexperienced. All she had were base instincts and her own desires.
Her mind was a conflicted mess of anger at her own weak resolve, a pang of guilt for her thoughts of Richard that were so quickly pushed aside and a monumental amount of uncertainty surrounding just what on earth she was thinking.
White: So, how did we do? I think it went rather well, all things considered.
Red: You mean considering all the scowling and disagreeing?
White: And the biting. Don't forget the biting.
Red: Well yeah that too. Hopefully the next chapter will be less... Painful.
White: Yeeeah, 'cause that's really gonna happen. The day we achieve that will be the day the world implodes.
Red: I suppose I can live with the pain until then, after all, I am Mord'Sith ;)
White: Yeah, you pull that card most days. I think we're well-aware of that well-hidden fact ;)
Red: This coming from the girl who grabs me by the neck in every fight ¬_¬
White: ... *glares*