Word Count: 4,404
A/N1: See the previous chapters for disclaimers.
A/N2: My gratitude to Cloud Auditore Fair, my lovely beta.
A/N3: This chapter is an interlude. Kind of. Whether for the good or for the bad, fate will tell us.
Survivor
- III -
Unblinking eyes stared at badly lit nothingness.
Her cheek pressed against caked blood, left palm to cooled skin. As she tried not to let her thoughts surrender to the shadows, they kept snaking into the corners and cracks, making a labyrinth of her mind where she got lost in the events of their last day together.
"What was that about?" Cara asked without looking at her, as they stood side by side observing the outlines of two horses disappearing into a cloud of dust.
"What?" Her gaze lingered on their blurred figures until the Seeker and Wizard bended to a sharp curve, leaving behind an oddly quiet Confessor to stare absently at the sinuous road ahead of them.
The Mord'Sith lowered her gaze, and before she could think better of it she blurted, "You wanted me to stay with you instead of Richard." She took a step to the other side then, meaning to put some space between them or flee, but then stopped with a huff and, ever so hesitantly, turned her head toward a seemingly oblivious Kahlan; the whitening grip on the wrist at her back hardened just a little bit more by seeing that the woman's eyes were still wandering about.
Something about the way Cara had spoken those words caught Kahlan's attention, though, bringing the Confessor back from her musings. She blinked, her gaze drifting to Cara's profile, seeing the hard set of her jaw and the tension on her shoulders.
Apparently, the brunette thought that was a convenient time to get tongue-tied, because all she did was stare blankly at the Mord'Sith's clasped hands.
Cara wouldn't have any of it right then. She spun back to face the Confessor with the perfect arch of an eyebrow posing a question, arms coming to cross under her breasts petulantly.
Nevertheless, and to Cara's further aggravation, Kahlan only stared some more in her general direction and then huffed a short, nervous laugh.
"I thought you would know, Cara." She said slightly out of breath, blue eyes averting, finding sudden interest on the back of the young soldier's head – who kept fumbling with the reins of their horses a little ways off by the other side of the road. He'd been sent by a farmer that requested the Mother Confessor's judgment in some ill-fated business of his with another local landowner, and since the boy's nervous speech about such men had given Kahlan pause, the group decided it was about time to make a strategic break on their trip back to inland; it would also mean a little respite and provide them with fresh meals and warm beds, as Zedd had been quick to point out in that mischievous manner of his.
Noticing the Confessor's distraction and the telltale blush rising on her cheeks, Cara cocked her head pensively for a moment before letting out a clipped, "Of course".
Then, turning on her heels, she swaggered back toward the tree line, all the while wondering when the Seeker and his Confessor would stop being ridiculous and finally go to it. Damn, anyone with eyes could see they so badly wanted to. But all the more infuriating was the way they had been acting since they left the Pillars of Creation – like sex was something sacred and all that nonsense talk about pure, true love. For Rahl's sake! If it wasn't for her long years of discipline shielding her mind she would've gone mad by now, she was sure of it. And really, she didn't even know why she was thinking this much about Kahlan and Richard being together. It was none of her business, after all.
Meanwhile, Kahlan just stood there, by the roadside, frowning and inwardly cursing her inability to read this woman. At last she sighed, remembering herself that it was not the time yet. She had to get to Aydindril first, for in her home, within the revered walls of the Confessor's Palace, she knew there would be no escape from the truth. There, she would be whole again. She'd be stronger to face the call of her duty and the reality of her feelings. But there would ever be reconciliation between her head and her heart? These thoughts had stolen her peace of mind since that one night they spent at the shades of the Pillars, and seemingly would continue to do so.
"Set your pace, Confessor." Cara gibed from the top of her black stallion as the other woman absentmindedly made her way toward her grey one.
Kahlan shot her a glare before mounting her horse with a flourish, guiding him back to the road, but then halted, "I'm not turning my back on you, Mord'Sith." She emphasized with mock lightness and looked on toward the village, biting her lip to stop from smiling as she waited for the jab to come.
But Cara only snorted and then rolled her eyes when she saw the pitiable excuse of a soldier struggling with the stirrup of his own horse.
Kahlan heard him huffing and turned in time to see his brown eyes widening comically at Cara's sudden appearance by his side, just as he managed to sit upright onto his ill-tempered mount.
"Hurry up, brat!" The bewildered lad nearly fell off of the animal, appalled by the menacing tone of the woman in red leather. Said woman narrowed her green eyes and leaned in to speak right to his un-bearded face, "You might not want to live long enough to regret leaving the Mother Confessor alone with a Mord'Sith." With a final look down her nose at the frightened soldier, she shook her head in barely concealed disgust before setting off on the road.
Then it was Kahlan's turn to shake her head, only it was in quiet amazement; she had poked the lion, but wouldn't suffer the brunt of its rage – at least not directly, it seemed. While she knew Cara would not hurt the boy, the way the woman had been acting these days was preoccupying the Confessor. Cara was only being, well, Cara, but there was something else, or, rather, old about her behavior. Though Kahlan didn't have a clue as to what exactly, she felt that, whatever it was, was troubling the other woman because, in her experience with Cara, being faced by situations she didn't know how to handle generally meant that the blonde would fall back into vicious manners. She was also baffled by the realization that, even now, with this boding evil version of the woman at her side, she wouldn't feel the strain of worrying about her own safety all the time – and she had worried a lot since she was the one in her waning Order bearing the title of Mother Confessor.
Kahlan had come to accept, and it was a knowledge deeply rooted in her soul now, that Cara would always be there guarding her every step, offering a strong hand regardless if she would take it or not. It was as unthinkable a circumstance between people meant to be mortal enemies as she had ever heard about, and she was quite sure that Cara was aware of it being so, but things had turned out to be this way between them without the excuse of Richard for it. In fact, that things could've ended terribly bad on more than one occasion, but hadn't, was an implicit understanding for all of them, but still... It might seem self-centered, and she knew that to some degree it was, but Kahlan found Cara's protective facet as more than a useful tool, it was also an endearing attribute, if not intriguing in its own contradiction; perhaps it was because Mord'Sith weren't meant to be so, at least not in regards of a sworn enemy. Thinking back, it had always shone through a different prism with Richard, because even when she was supposed to feel loved and protected by his kindness and chivalry, sometimes she'd find herself wondering if he only did those things for her because he wanted to prove something of his own and, by doing so, only making her less and less confident about the power she herself wielded.
The Confessor was snapped out of her thoughts by the soldier grumbling something by her side – he might've been there talking to the breeze for more than a little while considering how much ground the Mord'Sith had put between them already.
Taking pity on the young man, Kahlan smiled indulgently at him. "She always gets moody when the sun is setting and we're still on the road." He clearly had never crossed paths with a Sister of the Agiel before, the poor boy.
"Are you coming or not, little man?!" Came an angry bark from the distance.
Startled out of his wits, the soldier kicked his horse into a frantic trot, following the Mother Confessor's tracks like they were the very path to the Creator's Light.
She leaned down, her lips a hairsbreadth from touching the shell of Cara's ear as she spoke, "I'm going upstairs. Aren't you coming?" The slurred tone of her voice didn't go unnoticed even by Kahlan herself, but she was way too lost to the cheery mood around them to care about it.
What was it now? The woman was sniffing her? Cara snorted, Leave it to an inebriated Confessor. She waited until Kahlan stood tall again, hand still on her left shoulder, squeezing lightly. The blonde sucked on her teeth, as if considering what to do, mug hovering near her lips.
"I have my own room." She said avoiding Kahlan's stare, then took what was left of her drink in a long swig.
Kahlan's eyes narrowed at that, hands flying to her hips, "Did you have the coin for it?" She was using her accusatory tone. Well, the Mother Confessor didn't seem pleased as far as Cara was concerned, but it was hard to discern her motives at that point of the night.
So, the Mord'Sith hummed concomitantly, not wanting to make it for a whole speech about not threatening the innkeeper with her bared-teeth smile or whatever, and then proceeded to fill up her mug.
As for the Confessor, she'd lost track after Cara's sixth drink, but the Mord'Sith didn't seem altered in the slightest, she idly noted and pouted. Well, she could've easily made it to fourth round if she wasn't a mess already.
"Well, good night then. And stay out of trouble." With a last pat to Cara's shoulder and a half drunken smile, she walked off toward the stairs.
Kahlan didn't hear the mumbled "Easier said than done, Mother Confessor" lost amid the hubbub in the tavern.
It was near noon time the next day, they had left the village soon after Kahlan had solved the farmers' grudge and they were riding side by side on that same road, when words finally passed between them again.
"You smell better than Richard."
Cara raised a sardonic eyebrow at her.
Kahlan rushed to clarify, "Even when you indulge in wine... But that wasn't the reason I wanted you instead– I mean, Richard's been too… sticky lately, not just in that way, you know. I, uh, prefer to sleep with you when we get to share rooms, anyways." She frowned, looking onward awkwardly. At least she managed not to stammer. Much. Spirits, her head was hurting too much for this.
There was a charged pause, during which Cara eyed Kahlan with naked mistrust and Kahlan just squirmed on her saddle, eyes glued on the road ahead.
Then the Mord'Sith sniffed, as if in self-appreciation, "I suspected as much." She stated, seeming quite satisfied with herself.
When Kahlan burst into a delightful fit of laughter, meeting the blonde's mischievous gaze with one of her own, it felt contagious even to the grumpy Mord'Sith.
Cara laughed back.
Seeing the Mord'Sith laughing like that was so rare, it made Kahlan falter a little, a lazy smile blossoming on her face as her eyes became softer, shy, until the brunette ducked her head and looked away again, hoping the Mord'Sith would think nothing of it.
Something was fluttering warmly inside her belly, it felt like tiny wings taking flight.
It preluded doom.
The beat of a butterfly's wings, it was all that was keeping her world from crumbling down into absolute ruin.
"Come on," She whispered to the thick midnight air. "Let it go, Cara. Don't hold it in."
Kahlan knew it could be just her muddled mind toying with the eerie noises around her, twisting the shadows into gloomy shapes that skulked in the corners of the cave, taunting her with madness. She couldn't help staring at them, though, for the mere thought of looking down at the Mord'Sith's face only to find it slacked in deathly stillness terrified her beyond reason.
She feared that she would stay this way forever, frozen in this dark grave, dying piece by piece while waiting for imaginary wisps of air to save her. That she would be holding her breath, hoping for an ephemeral chance to pull it back, only to keep going without it. Like a living dead.
The thought of having to bear such a ghastly existence reminded her that Cara had died once before and returned as a baneling, that no one had noticed that something was wrong with her. It had taken a selfless act of a stranger, Zedd's brother, to grant Cara the gift that, at that moment, she herself no longer possessed to give. Not even the Seeker, for whom the Mord'Sith had claimed the Keeper's deal, coming back from the dead for the lone purpose of not failing a friend she insisted in calling her Master, had intuited the truthiness behind the Mord'Sith's actions. But Kahlan did. And if she was honest with herself, it wasn't easy to admit it then, that on some level they were to blame for what had happened to Cara. And now, now she felt ashamed for remaining silent. Because in the end, with all things counted and weighed, when they all had invoked Cara as more than a valuable weapon to their at last successful quest, even then… It wasn't enough, didn't feel true.
They had failed this woman, each on their own way they all did.
But then she felt it again, that subtle warmth blowing faintly across her chin and her heart skipped a beat as she sensed a slight movement beneath that was not her own.
Still, she couldn't bring herself to look at it.
"Please, do it again…" Her voice drifted away, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak.
She listened, holding her breath as a charged quietude took the cave.
Until the soft hiss of leather filled the air, a flash of red teasing the corner of her eye.
Was it really happening?
Her chest, it seemed to be moving, slowly, but steadily so. And the growing heat on her skin could only mean one thing...
Kahlan felt her body start to tremble, the butterfly's wings were fluttering again to release the chaos within her, and like a hammer the increasing beat echoed in her ears, agonizingly shattering down what rested of the jumbled walls immuring her heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to calm down, as she tried to control her own shallow breaths.
She couldn't trust the signs her others senses wanted to read, even her eyes were still seeking the courage to open and face it.
"Just one more time." She pleaded.
She held her breath one last time, pressed her palm more closely against the warmer skin of Cara's chest and waited.
"This is it." Another beat later and a broken smile found its way to the Mother Confessor's teary face.
It might seem impossible, but she wasn't looking for an explanation right now.
"It's beating," She breathed in wonder. "Your heart is beating again, Cara."
Pouring rain had faded out, leaving in its place a misty drizzle and its quiet falling that sounded like a lullaby to her aching ears. She could hardly believe her own eyes, but there she was, staring awed at the tiny threads of hope blown from the Mord'Sith's nostrils.
In the enclosing darkness, Kahlan could still see the strong lines of a calm face, the stain of blood marring the forehead, a cheek and chest. She kept her right arm under Cara's head, supporting her elbow on a slightly bended knee while her left hand remained tucked in the opening of the Mord'Sith's leathers, firmly pressed against the swell of Cara's left breast.
She was trying to understand what had just happened, her head spinning with confused thoughts when she caught sight of eyelids fluttering open, revealing dark green irises that flicked instantly to meet hers. Then she gasped at hearing the muffled words coming out of the Mord'Sith's lips.
Taken aback, widening eyes locked to hooded ones, "What? You–"
"I said. Go. Away." The woman growled, then grimaced, for the mere act of speaking caused her whole body to hurt. But once she had started, not even the Creator would stop her from saying it to her devious former lover, "I may be dead, but don't mistake me for one of your stupid whores, Keeper. I know she's alive, so just get out of my pain already, you bastard."
Kahlan was rendered speechless for a few moments, then couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. Then, taken by a sudden impulse, she leaned down and pressed her lips firmly against the Mord'Sith's.
The touch lingered on just so, as everything else faded to insignificance. Kahlan felt this balmy dizziness taking her and for a few long heartbeats it overshadowed all the tension and soreness that had clung to her body. Until a ragged breath from the woman beneath forced her thoughts back from the unbelievably sweet taste of Cara's blood on her lips, the tease of it on the tip of her tongue making her mouth dry.
Reality came rushing in to flood her mind with its rawness when the Confessor felt a sharp stinging on her collarbone. Her head snapped back, blue eyes widened by words hanging on her tongue, unsaid.
Cara was eyeing her from under heavy lashes, a mix of suspicion and pain written on her face, but then her eyelids went closing slowly as an indistinct noise escaped her throat.
"I wasn't…" The Mord'Sith trailed off, trying to move her left arm from where it was lying across her middle, only to have a spike of pain going straight to her shoulder, spreading down to her ribs and making her eyes snap open to a momentary, throbbing blindness.
In the Underworld, after all, she thought to herself, frowning.
Though not, it was in fact the pain of living, for the ache was in everyplace at once but never really there, as she was used to. Even so, she briefly wondered if she was still in the clutches of the Keeper, because it couldn't possibly have happened. Not that she minded being kissed by Kahlan, but…Wait. Kahlan just kissed me?
Said woman was weeping it seemed, looking down at her with that strange expression on her face but, whatever it had been, Cara couldn't discern it from the dimness of this cursed pit, and the burning ache on her side just increased when... Well, her entire body ached, but it was nothing new, so–
"Can you sit up?"
–she was planning on doing exactly that. It would only take a second or two, really.
"I… will. Just give me a…" She felt arms encircling her shoulders purposefully and the protest died on the back of her throat as she let out a pained groan.
Carefully, Kahlan maneuvered their bodies so that Cara could sit with her back to the cave's wall. She clumsily took off the blankets still clinging to her legs before kneeling and scooting up to sit on her heels beside the Mord'Sith's outstretched legs. Due to the occasional flashes of lightning, she could see that the blankets were spotted with blood, though she felt it mainly with her hands when touched the soaked places. It was mostly Cara's blood, of course, since her own wounds had been at least tended and bandaged. The Confessor managed to fold one of them and put it under Cara's left arm, pressing the fabric to the Mord'Sith's sliced side, then she surreptitiously let her gaze travel from the blonde's injured leg to her punctured shoulder, finally settling on her hooded eyes that stared at her with pained intensity. Kahlan's jaw clenched and she swallowed hard as she took in the sight before her. But she didn't have time for it now; she had to do something, anything to help Cara.
"Kahlan."
The Confessor leaned closer and whispered, "Tell me."
By the tone of her voice alone Cara could tell the woman was still crying, even though there was no confusing the scars of tears she was seeing on Kahlan's face.
The face she thought would never see again.
For a stricken moment, this face surrounded by shadows and marred by tears was all she could see, all she could recall from vague memories she wasn't sure were hers anymore; it was as if she'd been thrown in the pit of her old cell by the Keeper himself. She tried to suck in air and couldn't. She felt trapped, defenseless, hurt. And if such a thing were possible, it pained her even more to know that she was the one causing this magnificent woman to look so small and frightened, like a…
"Don't do this." She blurted suddenly, eyes wide.
Kahlan recalled seeing that haunted look before, though couldn't quite place it, "Cara–"
"Are you cold?"
"What?"
"You're trembling."
Stubborn woman! Kahlan wanted to yell at her for this ridiculous attempt to divert her attention. But what else could she expect from Cara? She shook her head, unable to quit the sniffling as she spoke quietly, "Just tell me what I have to do."
"You could start… stopping this. Just, do not…" Cara panted as she let her head roll sideways against the wall, fighting the sting in her eyes as she sought the cave's entrance, anything to distract her from Kahlan's teary gaze.
It took Kahlan a moment to realize it was her crying that was troubling the other woman.
"Okay. Sorry." She murmured, chastising herself inwardly for letting her frayed nerves get the better of her. Making the Mord'Sith anxious wasn't going to help matters in such circumstances.
"Can you take this off?" The woman rasped, gesturing vaguely to her chest, still looking away.
"I can, but–"
"Then you do it."
"The wound, how am I going to..." She trailed off, hesitated, then gingerly moved her right leg over Cara's, the other one following along. She shifted a bit, kneeling by Cara's left side as she did, then removed the folded blanket from under the woman's arm. Kahlan inspected it briefly and was somewhat alleviated to see that at least the bleed had lessened.
"I'll do it." Cara looked back at her before continuing, her expression strangely blank, "You only have to use your dagger to incise the wound and ease the arrowhead out."
Kahlan shook her head, alarmed, "I don't think it's a good idea, Cara."
"I wasn't counting on you to come up with a better suggestion, anyway." Her head fell back against the wall as she grunted something unintelligible.
"What is it?" Her hands shot up to grab the sides of the Mord'Sith's face and pull her head back toward her, "Cara? Cara, look at me. Hold on, please."
"I'm not going to–"
"Don't. Don't say that."
The woman laughed suddenly. And it was such a disconcerting thing to do considering her current state that Kahlan could only stare dumbly at her.
"Something happened."
"What happened?"
"You happened."
"Cara, you're not making sense."
"It was you, Kahlan." She repeated, looking right into her blues eyes. "I'm not delirious. One moment I was in the Underworld, then I was back here. Something happened," Green eyes became distant as she finished quietly, "It had your scent, and it pulled me back."
"It had my scent…" Kahlan echoed absently, her own gaze drifting away as she tried to reconcile this rather disturbing information with what she knew of her powers.
When their eyes met again, neither dared to speak a word. There was no need, because everything that needed to be said palled compared to what was transpiring between them at that moment.
The truth. It surfaced from the dark waters of her heart and was now screaming in the silent vagueness of their refuge.
The air shifted around them while their eyes remained locked, yearning for things they both knew were impossible, forbidden.
All too soon, the moment was shattered when a sudden, chilling breeze blew across her skin, making the hairs of her nude legs and arms rise. Out of instinct, the Confessor turned her head toward the only direction it could've come from.
What she saw filled her blue eyes with dread before the familiar taste of blood led her to the darkness.
To be continued...