fic; legend of the seeker [cara/richard] - never saw it coming
Title: Never Saw It Coming
Characters: Cara/Richard, Dennee
Rating: PG
Length: 854 words
Notes: Written for the Sweet Drabblethon II; prompt by jesterlady : Cara/Richard, "Richard never met Kahlan; quest"
The echo of Seekers past reverberated through him, starting off from silence until there was nothing else but the sound as it moved its way through him, eras of training flying true. Whispers spoke inside his head as his body followed them gracefully, with powerful strokes, as metal sliced and tore through the decayed flesh standing in front of him; courtesy of a baneling.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw white fabric flying, daggers gleaming off the moonlight as they struck out at their target with a thud. The same target that had been mere moments from grabbing a hold of Richard. He nodded his quiet thanks to the woman in white but only got a cold look in return.
He knew he shouldn’t take it personally, her cold exterior was bristly at best that had developed with the death of her sister.
“Hi, I’m Richard, I’m here to save you,” he jokingly said, extending his hand to the warrior woman on the ground below him, she had collapsed into a pile of limbs after battling against an army of three to her one. Teardrops hit the earth as they slid from the red rimmed eyes that peered up at him.
“Dennee,” she replied with none of the emotion in her voice that shone through her eyes. Pushing herself off the ground, she brushed off as much dirt as she could from her dress and walked around him, silently making her way out of the blood stained section of forest and had continued like that everyday since then.
Over time he had hoped they would develop some kind of bond, something more than what their duties entailed them to be, Confessor and Seeker, but everyday she would look at him, look through him, and he knew it would be like every other day that had come before.
That was until Cara happened.
He’ll admit it, he never saw her coming. Not from the first moment they met, her body looming over his with her agiel pressed up against his throat and not even now, having her fighting by his side.
“So you’re the Seeker and the Lord Rahl? Not going to stay that way if all you do is lie on your back,” she said casually getting up from his still figure on the ground with a small smile on her face. “We haven’t got all day,” and with that she was a part of his life.
Her words surprised him the most. Everything she said and did was contradictory, her actions and the looks she threw at others ached with anger and distrust to any emotion yet when she spoke, she spoke blunt words tinted with sarcasm and humor and he listened. Everyday he listened to her more and more, even when no words were spoken out loud.
With a grunt and a twist another body fell to the ground in front of him. Richard’s eye caught sight of Cara running towards him, everything slowed, her footsteps moved with a will of their own but never reaching far enough, fast enough. Her voice called out to him, words of warning laced with dread but he wasn’t able to hear what she said, why was it?
He felt an white hot pain pierce his shoulder and shake him to the core as he fell to his knees. The ground swirled, messing the sky and trees with a suicide of colors until no which way was up or down only him and her remained.
Cara ducked, hair soaring through the air, as the baneling took a swing at her head with the same knife that had cut down Richard. She struck out fiercely, tearing apart the assassin with every raw emotion she had coursing through her veins, not stopping until only pieces of it’s dead flesh remained, sticking here and there to her leather and the ground below her bloody boots.
Richard groaned in pain as he slumped to the ground, Cara’s arms unconsciously twitched in the leather as she willed them not to reach out and grab him as he fell on his side. Instead she compromised by dropping to her knees beside him, careful not to touch him, unsure of herself in that moment what she would do if she did.
He looked up at her face, focusing on the one thing that didn’t want to swirl and sway with the rest of the world and he saw a flicker of emotion. It was only for a moment but in that moment, a thousand words were written and remembered, before being hidden behind her mask of years of Mord’Sith training. A genuine smile broke out across his face, the first real one in days.
“‘Tis only a scratch.” He managed to get out before a cough rattled through his weary body. It was a lot colder on the ground than he remembered it being earlier.
Her eyes lingered on his blood soaked shoulder for a breath longer before she felt his his hand grasp for her own causing her to look up in surprise at the sudden touch. She felt a flurry of emotions fly around in her head at the action; anger, shock, happiness, fear. The emotions threatened to spill out if she wasn’t careful, she was always so careful. Careful not to get attached to anything or anyone, careful to keep a distance between her and the rest of the world and careful to keep her walls up no matter what but this man, this one man was breaking them down easily as if every defense she had built over time was paper, paper already tor, waiting for him. She closed her eyes as a tiny smile fluttered onto her tired face, sweat drenched hair sticking to her cheeks and neck awkwardly.
“So you’re the Seeker and Lord Rahl? Never going to stay that way if all you ever do is lie on your back.” He barely heard her over the roar of excruciating pain rolled over him but her words came through, clear as day. He could hear every thing he was feeling reflected back at him in those words and the thought of it all was overwhelming. Was this an end, beginning, or another chapter in their quest?
Only one thing came to his mind.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She said nothing, the only indication she even heard him was her quiet breathing sped up to match her beating heart.
Characters: Cara/Richard, Dennee
Rating: PG
Length: 854 words
Notes: Written for the Sweet Drabblethon II; prompt by jesterlady : Cara/Richard, "Richard never met Kahlan; quest"
The echo of Seekers past reverberated through him, starting off from silence until there was nothing else but the sound as it moved its way through him, eras of training flying true. Whispers spoke inside his head as his body followed them gracefully, with powerful strokes, as metal sliced and tore through the decayed flesh standing in front of him; courtesy of a baneling.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw white fabric flying, daggers gleaming off the moonlight as they struck out at their target with a thud. The same target that had been mere moments from grabbing a hold of Richard. He nodded his quiet thanks to the woman in white but only got a cold look in return.
He knew he shouldn’t take it personally, her cold exterior was bristly at best that had developed with the death of her sister.
“Hi, I’m Richard, I’m here to save you,” he jokingly said, extending his hand to the warrior woman on the ground below him, she had collapsed into a pile of limbs after battling against an army of three to her one. Teardrops hit the earth as they slid from the red rimmed eyes that peered up at him.
“Dennee,” she replied with none of the emotion in her voice that shone through her eyes. Pushing herself off the ground, she brushed off as much dirt as she could from her dress and walked around him, silently making her way out of the blood stained section of forest and had continued like that everyday since then.
Over time he had hoped they would develop some kind of bond, something more than what their duties entailed them to be, Confessor and Seeker, but everyday she would look at him, look through him, and he knew it would be like every other day that had come before.
That was until Cara happened.
He’ll admit it, he never saw her coming. Not from the first moment they met, her body looming over his with her agiel pressed up against his throat and not even now, having her fighting by his side.
“So you’re the Seeker and the Lord Rahl? Not going to stay that way if all you do is lie on your back,” she said casually getting up from his still figure on the ground with a small smile on her face. “We haven’t got all day,” and with that she was a part of his life.
Her words surprised him the most. Everything she said and did was contradictory, her actions and the looks she threw at others ached with anger and distrust to any emotion yet when she spoke, she spoke blunt words tinted with sarcasm and humor and he listened. Everyday he listened to her more and more, even when no words were spoken out loud.
With a grunt and a twist another body fell to the ground in front of him. Richard’s eye caught sight of Cara running towards him, everything slowed, her footsteps moved with a will of their own but never reaching far enough, fast enough. Her voice called out to him, words of warning laced with dread but he wasn’t able to hear what she said, why was it?
He felt an white hot pain pierce his shoulder and shake him to the core as he fell to his knees. The ground swirled, messing the sky and trees with a suicide of colors until no which way was up or down only him and her remained.
Cara ducked, hair soaring through the air, as the baneling took a swing at her head with the same knife that had cut down Richard. She struck out fiercely, tearing apart the assassin with every raw emotion she had coursing through her veins, not stopping until only pieces of it’s dead flesh remained, sticking here and there to her leather and the ground below her bloody boots.
Richard groaned in pain as he slumped to the ground, Cara’s arms unconsciously twitched in the leather as she willed them not to reach out and grab him as he fell on his side. Instead she compromised by dropping to her knees beside him, careful not to touch him, unsure of herself in that moment what she would do if she did.
He looked up at her face, focusing on the one thing that didn’t want to swirl and sway with the rest of the world and he saw a flicker of emotion. It was only for a moment but in that moment, a thousand words were written and remembered, before being hidden behind her mask of years of Mord’Sith training. A genuine smile broke out across his face, the first real one in days.
“‘Tis only a scratch.” He managed to get out before a cough rattled through his weary body. It was a lot colder on the ground than he remembered it being earlier.
Her eyes lingered on his blood soaked shoulder for a breath longer before she felt his his hand grasp for her own causing her to look up in surprise at the sudden touch. She felt a flurry of emotions fly around in her head at the action; anger, shock, happiness, fear. The emotions threatened to spill out if she wasn’t careful, she was always so careful. Careful not to get attached to anything or anyone, careful to keep a distance between her and the rest of the world and careful to keep her walls up no matter what but this man, this one man was breaking them down easily as if every defense she had built over time was paper, paper already tor, waiting for him. She closed her eyes as a tiny smile fluttered onto her tired face, sweat drenched hair sticking to her cheeks and neck awkwardly.
“So you’re the Seeker and Lord Rahl? Never going to stay that way if all you ever do is lie on your back.” He barely heard her over the roar of excruciating pain rolled over him but her words came through, clear as day. He could hear every thing he was feeling reflected back at him in those words and the thought of it all was overwhelming. Was this an end, beginning, or another chapter in their quest?
Only one thing came to his mind.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She said nothing, the only indication she even heard him was her quiet breathing sped up to match her beating heart.