lots fic: the sword of something other than truth (cara/kahlan)
Title: The Sword of Something Other Than Truth
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Notes: The 'something' of course refers to ‘Cara’s Squishy Feelings For Kahlan’. Just so you know. 2000 words. femslash10 fic for roniyuy.
"Ah," said Zedd, smoothing his robes over his stomach as he emerged from the tavern, "baked apples and honey." He made further appreciative noises. "And fresh cream."
Cara looked over at him without bothering to disguise her disapproval. "Have you finished eating then? Do you think we could get on with what we are supposed to be doing here?"
Zedd's answer was reproachful. "Such a task as ours requires adequate sustenance, Cara."
She rolled her eyes as he moved off amongst the small town's bustling market stalls. The wizard had been wearing down her forbearance all day. And it wasn't like she had much of it to start with. But now her only wish was to be finished as quickly as possible, and so she said nothing and trailed dutifully behind.
She soon stopped, however, as a particular stall caught her eye. The craftsman swallowed nervously as she sauntered closer, but it was the man's wares she was interested in, not his comfort. She heard Zedd call her name from somewhere down the street, but she ignored him. Let the wizard wait on her for a while, it would make a nice change.
--
It was late afternoon when the two companions returned to camp.
“How did the shopping trip go?” Richard said as they dismounted.
Zedd held up a number of items. “Leather to fix your horse’s harness, Richard, and salt and flour to fix our supper. But it’s Cara you want to talk to about purchases.”
“Oh?”
“She bought herself a sword." He leaned closer, confiding, "Never have I seen the woman so happy as Cara was perusing a table of sharp, deadly implements.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Cara said, joining the conversation with a baleful look for the wizard. “I find far more pleasure in other things, like fighting, and hunting. And bringing men to their knees," she added with a smirk, before lifted the aforementioned sword from her back. "And anyway, I didn’t buy it for myself, it’s for Kahlan.”
Kahlan rose from her seat by the fire. “It is?”
“Yes, here.” She unsheathed the blade and pushed the hilt into Kahlan’s hands, giving her no option but to take it.
“It’s a fine weapon,” Richard said appraisingly, leaning over Cara's shoulder. “Wait, how did you afford this?”
“I haggled,” Cara said. The wizard coughed. She frowned at him. “The man appreciated a good deal when he heard one. How is that my fault?”
“And it’s for me?” Kahlan said.
“Yes. You lost a knife the other day, when you threw it in that baneling’s throat? And then he fell over that cliff into the river? You were disappointed you couldn’t retrieve it. I was going to try and replace the knife but then I saw this sword instead, and, I don't know, isn't bigger always better?”
This time both the wizard and Richard coughed.
Kahlan merely said, “Well it’s very thoughtful of you, Cara, thank you.”
“You like it?”
“Of course I do.” Kahlan beamed at her.
Cara decided the sword looked, well, good. Appropriate. In Kahlan’s hands. “Well, just don’t go sticking it in anyone standing near a cliff's edge this time,” she said, and went to collect water for the horses.
--
"So how is it?" Cara manoeuvred closer to Kahlan as they fought off a band of D'Haran soldiers-turned-mercenaries.
Kahlan was currently occupied with two of them, while Cara sent another to the ground in an unmoving heap with a blow to the temple.
"Is the balance okay?" She turned to watch Kahlan, feeling a strange flush of pleasure at the sight of her gift being put to good use.
"What?" said Kahlan as she dispatched the second assailant just in time to turn and meet the blade of a third with her own.
Cara absently drove her agiel into the neck of a man struggling to regain his feet; he went back down again with an agonised groan.
Her movements efficient and decisive, Kahlan ran her opponent through, paused to flick a strand of hair from her face, then ran off to help Richard on the other side of the clearing. Cara moved to follow, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. She'd had a really good feeling about that sword.
--
The good feeling continued. That was sort of the problem. More and more, Cara's eyes were drawn to the confessor at such moments. It wasn't that strange, though - merely a little professional interest, one warrior to another.
Like right now, she was leaning against a hay cart, watching as Kahlan and Richard ran around like a pair of children in the middle of the village square - an activity they called sparring. They seemed to be more interested in laughing and making faces at each other than they were in the fight, which seemed beside the point to her. Still, she didn't turn away in disgust. Instead, she couldn't help noting the easy confidence in Kahlan's form, the fluidity and grace of her movements.
And she couldn't help but compare the two and think that, while Richard might have had the Sword of Truth, Kahlan's sword was just, well, better. Plus there was the way Kahlan's hair tended to swoosh around her head like it had a life of its own. Richard didn't have that going for him, either.
"Is there something wrong, Cara?" The play-fighting had stopped, and Kahlan was standing before her.
Cara blinked. "You're dropping your elbow. On the upward swing? There should be more power in your grip, it'll help support the motion and give you more control. What?"
"Thanks for the tip," Kahlan said in what Cara felt was an overly sensitive manner.
"Just trying to help." It wasn't her fault she noticed these things. Besides, Kahlan had this shiny, and deadly, new toy, and Cara just wanted her to get the most out of it. And the odd looks she got from Kahlan and Richard when she told them that were really more their problem than hers.
--
Around the third time she found herself scolding Kahlan for not cleaning the blade off soon enough - in this case after using it to hack several pieces out of a gar's hide - she had to take a step back and wonder if she wasn't getting a little too invested in the matter.
Especially since Kahlan had graduated from odd looks to giving the impression she was about to start cursing like a D'Haran - not that Kahlan would ever curse like a mute monk, let alone a D'Haran. But the intent was clearly there.
Things had been so much simpler with the Mord'Sith. If another woman had a problem accepting a little constructive criticism from another, the two of them would hit each other with agiels for a while, one of them would end up cleaning the other's boots with her tongue, and that would be that. Kahlan, on the other hand, merely became testy for a while, and would at some later point want to talk about it.
--
Predictably, it happened while Cara was enjoying some peaceful private time, which she was using to polish her agiels. Kahlan found her and took a seat beside her. Cara paused, glancing over at her, and gestured with the soft cloth. "I can do your sword next, if you want."
“Cara," Kahlan said carefully, "I can't help but notice you seem a little preoccupied with this whole sword thing. I appreciate the gift, but you can have it back if you want. It seems to mean a lot to you.”
“You don’t want it?”
“No, I love it! I just thought you might -”
“Well I don’t. What would I want with a sword? An agiel is a much more efficient weapon, and far more versatile. You can torture someone as much as you want without causing too much damage, and once you grow tired of that, bring about a swift, excruciating death. What’s wrong with my agiel?”
“Don’t worry, Cara, I would never try to separate you and your agiels. I honestly can’t imagine you without one.”
Cara shrugged, feeling self-concious at the smile on Kahlan's face. “You know I could give it up if I wanted to. It’s not like it’s difficult to wave a sword around. We see twelve idiots doing it everyday. And Richard.”
“All right.”
She weighed the beloved weapon in her hand. “I could give it up. Though I will admit it would feel... strange to be without it. I find it,” she ran a finger lovingly along its length, “comforting.”
“Hmm. So it’s sort of like a security blanket.”
Cara’s frown was instant, her glare murderous. “No, it isn’t.” Kahlan got up and moved away, very much not hiding a wide smile. Cara jumped up to follow her. “Kahlan, it is not! Mord'Sith do not need security blankets! Give me my sword back!”
She didn’t make Kahlan return the sword.
She did make Kahlan swear by the Creator that an agiel was not, in any way, shape, or form, a woobie. Even if Kahlan was giving her that fond, amused look the whole time she was making the oath, it still counted.
But Cara didn’t stop thinking about the sword. Or the way it looked being wielded by an efficient, competent fighter like Kahlan. She just really liked it. The sword, that is.
--
And then Kahlan lost it. The sword, that is.
“What do you mean you lost it?”
“I just put it down for a minute! I didn’t have time to clean the blade after the battle, I had to tend to the wounded, so I just set it down over... somewhere.”
Cara stepped over a groaning villager and said, “You don’t know?”
“I thought it was by the well, but it wasn’t there when I looked. Oh, it might have been in the clearing behind the blacksmith’s - that’s where we found poor Gerald there. He’s going to be okay, by the way.”
If Gerald was the noisy man behind her, Cara was having a difficult time caring. “The clearing behind the blacksmith’s house? Where we just finished piling up the baneling corpses.”
Both women’s eyes widened in realisation just as there came a sudden WHOOMPH and they looked up to see a large cloud of smoke rising over the village rooftops from the direction of the smithy.
--
After Zedd’s wizard fire had died down, they had not found Kahlan’s sword so much as they had managed to locate a twisted lump of smouldering metal.
“Oh no!” Kahlan said.
“You know, you should really be more careful with your belongings,” Cara said testily.
Kahlan’s hands were covering her mouth in horror, her eyes travelling between Cara and the melted remains.
Cara relented with a sigh. Of course if it bothered her, it must be even worse for Kahlan. “It was a good weapon. You must be very upset,” she said, patting Kahlan’s shoulder in sympathy.
“I’m so sorry Cara,” Kahlan said, looking at her with concern. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“You must be very upset,” Cara said more pointedly this time.
“Of course I am.”
But not that upset, Cara noted. She looked away from Kahlan’s eyes, which were as usual full of honesty and good intentions and various other feelings. She was trying not to be annoyed that Kahlan wasn’t crying over her sword. Even though it was such a good sword, and very pretty, and Kahlan was lucky to have it. But the attempt failed.
Then Cara rolled her eyes and, with a surprising lack of mental angst, admitted to herself that it wasn’t really the sword that she cared so much about.
She turned back to Kahlan and put an arm around her shoulder. “We can buy you another one,” she said.
Kahlan sniffled. “All right.”