Fic: All the Days (8/8)
Fic: All the Days (Part 8/8)
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
21
Things felt no more real when Kahlan began to come to Cara's chambers.
She first came almost two weeks after their arrival at Rahl's keep. It was late, the time of night when the air feels stiller and quieter than even in the earliest hours of the morning. Cara was still awake, bent over the plain wooden desk that was her chamber's only furniture besides the bed and washstand. She assumed Kahlan was long asleep, though she had little way of knowing-the wall between Cara's room and that of Kahlan and Erin was thick, like all the walls in Rahl's fortress. Rahl had clearly modeled the building after his Mord'Sith temples, where walls were built of solid stone to prevent the unfortunate sounds of screams from disturbing the important business of the upper levels.
The item that held Cara's attention was a message sent from Grayson via journey book, detailing recent casualties and supplies, as well as a report of the chaos Gaiokos's easternmost forces had experienced when two thirds of their company suddenly disappeared, swept back to the chilly plains of Rasmin. All of the information could wait until the morning, but Cara had found herself pacing away her sleep that evening, feeling soft and domesticated in the loose breeches and tunic Kahlan had firmly told her were more suitable bedclothes than her much-worn leather. Cara had considered fighting out her impatience with some late-night training in the courtyard, but she would have to pass through the door into Kahlan and Erin's room to get to the outer entrance, and she didn't want to disturb their sleep. So, instead, she had pulled out a candle, an ink well, and several sheaves of stiff parchment, and she had begun writing.
Her candle was almost down to its nub when she finally sighed and tossed her feathered pen on the table's surface, not really caring that it spattered ink droplets on the missive to Grayson that she had just spent an hour writing; Grayson cared as little for aesthetics as she did. Cara leaned back in her chair, rolling her neck in a circle and hearing the faint popping of protesting joints. Idly, she held up her right hand, staring at it as she turned it this way and that. In the dim light of the candle, the dark ink stains made strange patterns against the white scars that crisscrossed her palm. There was a time when ink on her fingers would have been a foreign sight, though scars had always been at home on her skin.
She heard the faint sound of metal against stone, and she turned her head to see the door to Kahlan's chamber inch open. Cara was already on her feet by the time Kahlan entered, closing the door behind her.
Kahlan stood still, just a foot inside the door. She looked almost an apparition in the dim light of the room, her white sleeping gown giving an ethereal glow to her skin. But then she took a step towards Cara, and she became solid and real again.
"Kahlan," Cara said, frowning. "It's late-did something happen?"
Kahlan shook her head, once, and then took the four long strides to close the distance between them. Before Cara could say anything more, Kahlan had slid her arms around Cara and pulled her in for a long, unquestioning kiss. Cara let out a breath against Kahlan's mouth, but then she was kissing back, her own arms pulling Kahlan towards her until she could feel the soft press of Kahlan's breasts through the thin fabric of their clothes. Cara let her fingers sink into the flesh at Kahlan's hips, let her tongue dart into Kahlan's mouth where Kahlan's tongue met hers eagerly. For just a moment, Cara considered protesting, considered stopping it all. But Kahlan's hands were already tugging at Cara's shirt, and Cara was already wet with need, and none of this was real, anyway.
Kahlan's kisses were hard, and Cara returned them sloppily, eagerly, like this was her first time. Kahlan was tugging at the hem of Cara's shirt, and Cara reluctantly stopped kissing Kahlan so she could lift her arms and Kahlan could slip the garment over her head. Cara reciprocated speedily by yanking at the strings of Kahlan's bodice.
"Could your sleeping garments possibly have more ties?" Cara muttered, just before she simply ripped the strings out.
Kahlan laughed throatily, her eyes dancing with amusement as they met Cara's. And then Kahlan slipped her hand below the band of Cara's breeches. Cara couldn't help but groan, bucking against Kahlan's teasing fingers where they pressed and just began to stroke. But Cara refused to let Kahlan get the best of her in this at least, so she gave Kahlan a slight shove until Kahlan's knees hit the edge of Cara's bed. She watched as Kahlan pulled her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Then Cara could do nothing but admire Kahlan for a moment, Kahlan who sat almost primly on the edge of her bed, freckles and smooth skin and a smile half-shy, half-challenge. Kahlan cocked an eyebrow, and that was all the invitation Cara needed.
Cara quickly shucked off her own clothing, not missing the way Kahlan watched her, the way Kahlan swallowed hard when Cara was finally naked. Cara then moved to the bed, resting one knee on each side of Kahlan's thighs. She let herself grind ground down onto Kahlan, just for a moment, feeling where she met Kahlan's flesh slickly. Then Cara kissed Kahlan, letting the momentum of her body push her back against the bed. Cara broke away so she could kiss down Kahlan's throat, lick a trail across her collarbone, close her mouth around her nipple. Kahlan arched up against Cara, saying her name as she wrapped her fingers through Cara's hair and pushed her down harder.
Cara moved her tongue over Kahlan's breast and let her fingers dance down her belly. At the first light brush of her fingers, Kahlan gasped and bucked upwards, and Cara couldn't help but marvel at how easily her fingers slid into Kahlan, at how they came away sticky with Kahlan's need.
Cara watched Kahlan's face as her fingers became more confident. Kahlan held Cara's gaze for a moment, as if meeting Cara's eyes was a sign of her control. But then Kahlan had to close her eyes as she let out a low, needy moan. "Spirits, Cara," she whispered, her voice strained. "Spirits, spirits."
When Kahlan came--a low sound in her voice, the fingers of her right hand gripping Cara's forearm--Cara felt Kahlan's magic brush her, like it had the first time. But that was all, and then Kahlan collapsed back on the bed, and Cara was lying beside her. Cara felt the uneven rise and fall of Kahlan's chest, and she breathed in the warm, soft scent that never seemed to leave Kahlan. Kahlan's eyes were still closed, and even though Cara was aching with need, she didn't want anything more than this.
But when, moments later, Kahlan recovered and began to kiss her way down Cara's stomach, Cara found she didn't really mind.
*****
Kahlan went back to her room before the night was over, as she would on every occasion after. Cara knew it was because Kahlan didn't want Erin waking up and wondering where Kahlan had gone, and she didn't begrudge her this. Each time, Kahlan would slip her clothes back on and give Cara a look that bordered on apology. Cara would only shrug and smile wryly, pulling Kahlan down for a final kiss, so she wouldn't forget. And maybe sometimes this kiss was a little harder than necessary, and maybe sometimes it bruised Kahlan's lips, but Kahlan never complained-she would only kiss back just as hard, her hand curving gently around Cara's jaw, and then she would leave.
Their days fell into a pattern. They would confer with Aydindril, the People's Palace, and the Southern Keep in the morning, consulting with Rahl when necessary. In the afternoons, they sparred in the courtyards. Kahlan began teaching Erin how to use her daggers (though Erin was only allowed to use wooden practice knives Cara carved for her), and Cara continued to show Erin how to fight barehanded. After a couple of weeks, Erin's flailings became slightly more controlled, and Cara decided she no longer needed to be embarrassed at the child's initial lack of coordination. In the evening, they shared dinner when they could, Erin's swift recovery evident by the way her constant, unstoppable chattering would fill up the room, giving Cara a headache but making Kahlan smile in that soft way Cara noticed more and more.
Erin had initially seemed too respectful, or perhaps too intimidated, to be fully open around Cara. But by their second week of training, Cara's studied persona of menace was no match for Erin's curiosity. While Erin remained respectful and slightly in awe during training, the moment they went inside she would begin barraging Cara with questions about her adventures with Kahlan and Richard, and what it was like to be a general of an army, and how many people she had killed. Erin was perpetually being disappointed with Cara's stories, which usually began with, "We fought," and ended with, "And then we killed them." Kahlan indulged her more, spinning dramatic yarns of their adventures fighting skreelings and banelings and the Keeper's minions. Despite her best efforts to remain silent, though, Cara couldn't help butting in occasionally to correct Kahlan's inaccuracies. Most of Cara's remarks were snide, Richard and Kahlan's idealism her frequent target, but every now and then she would get caught up and take over the thread of the story, taking a perverse pleasure in describing the screams of her opponents and the bright arcs of blood she could summon with her agiels. A couple of times Kahlan had to stop Cara before the stories became too graphic, though Erin never seemed to mind. Erin would listen to Cara, eyes wide and shining, and sometimes Cara would feel a strange rush of contentment wash over her in these moments. Then she would recover, shake her head, and offer a blunt, "And then we killed them," and Erin would pout, turning towards Kahlan for more details.
And in the evenings, Kahlan would come. She didn't come every night, and Cara rarely knew beforehand when she would. On the nights when Kahlan stayed away, Cara sometimes found herself waiting, sleep far out of reach, only thinking, thinking, thinking of Kahlan's fingers and the flutter of her eyelids and the slope of her throat as she tilted her head back and said Cara's name so necessarily.
(Sometimes in the moments afterwards, when they lay tangled up in each other and breathing hard, Cara didn't like to meet Kahlan's eyes. She would get caught, if she did that.)
It was exactly what Cara had never wanted, what she had spent years ensuring would never happen: the pining, the waiting. And maybe if it had all been real-if they hadn't been by themselves, in this far away place out of time, nowhere, really-she wouldn't have stood for it. But she was tired. And Kahlan under her hands…between her fingers… at her lips. It was too much.
And it didn't really matter, anyway.
22
On the day the last handful of resistant oak leaves turned shades of orange and brown, they received the message from Richard: Gaiokos was dead. Richard didn't seem elated when he told Cara, just relieved. By that point, Rahl's summonings had chipped away at Gaiokos's forces so steadily that surrender was already a foregone conclusion, but Gaiokos had apparently clung stubbornly to his visions of defeating D'Hara and the Midlands. Cara felt strange, listening to Richard recount the fight as she stood in the Seer's Tower. Gaiokos was a dark force, perhaps the greatest threat to D'Hara since Lord Rahl. But he was just a name to her. A whole war had gone on without her. Part of her seethed that she had missed out on all the action; part of her couldn't muster the energy to regret.
It came time for them to discuss what to do with Rahl. Cara didn't hesitate to suggest they kill him. Neither Richard nor Kahlan seemed particularly opposed to the idea, but both immediately and vociferously refused to have Erin give the order. And, though Erin's order ostensibly forced Rahl to do as Kahlan and Cara told him, they both suspected Rahl would not submit willingly if they told him he would need to die. As much as it galled Cara to admit it, she wasn't sure she and Kahlan were a match for Rahl if he decided it was in his mistress's best interest for him to disobey them.
"Maybe we should leave him here," Kahlan finally suggested with a sigh, her face pinched after hours of standing in the tower's small circle with Cara. "As horrible as it is, he's loyal to Erin; he would make sure no one in the Old Kingdom ever tried another attack on D'Hara."
"Maybe," Richard said noncommittally, and Cara knew that all Richard really wanted was Rahl out of their lives, finally and forever.
"There's no need to decide right now," Cara interjected, her voice impatient. "We need a few days to prepare to leave. We'll figure out something by then."
Richard gave her a quizzical look and opened his mouth to object; it wasn't normally Cara's style to delay action. But then Cara cast him a look, one full of unspoken meaning, and he shut his mouth, giving the barest of nods. Kahlan didn't seem to notice, a testament to how tired she was-once the last of the Southern troops attacking Aydindril had cleared out, she had resumed her duties as Mother Confessor, delivering judgments as her steward read petitions to her.
The three of them turned to other matters, taking care of the last bits of business before saying tired goodnights. Kahlan immediately went to check on Erin, but Cara took the east corridor, towards Rahl's room.
His room lay far from Kahlan and Cara's, though near the Seer's tower and the chamber where he performed his magic. They never let him near Erin-never, not even when he almost begged them. Cara remembered that moment, so bizarre it was: Darken Rahl, scourge of D'Hara, pleading that he be allowed to visit his six-year-old mistress. Kahlan and Cara had both refused, and Erin's command that he obey them forced him to keep his distance. Still, Cara knew that if they ever asked him to do something he thought would harm Erin, he would refuse. She remembered the tale of Dennee's mate, who was able to directly refuse her order to kill her child because he decided the child's death would not serve Dennee best.
Cara pushed herself into Rahl's room, not bothering to knock. He sat at his plain wooden table, hunched over a scroll spread before him. He looked up when Cara entered, offering her the faintest of sardonic smiles. His hair was in a tie at the nape of his neck; pulled back that way, rather than hanging in lanky strands around his face, it made him seem younger. There was something else in him that made him seem younger, something new in his eyes that Cara couldn't quite place. But Darken Rahl's relative age was not something that really concerned Cara, so she wasted no time speaking: "We'll be leaving soon."
Rahl nodded, as if he had been expecting this. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Cara, his expression wry. "So, then, Cara-exalted general." Cara scowled at Rahl's faintly mocking tone, her fingers itching to lay an agiel across his smirking face. "Ready to leave once and for all and hurry back to your homeland? Well, good luck, I suppose," he continued, waving his hand idly. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he met Cara's eyes. "But if you only knew what was in store for you, before you reached those shores…" he shrugged, "maybe you would stay with me, like in the old days, and help me run this land."
"I don't think I remember our days together as fondly as you do, Rahl," Cara drawled. "Besides, I'm not worried about the future. I've weathered worse, I'm sure."
"Perhaps," Rahl mused, rising to his feet and rolling up his scroll. He tapped it on the table and sealed it with wax, twisting the scroll this way and that as the dark red liquid hardened. He turned to face Cara again, his expression droll. "But we did have some good times, didn't we?"
"Did we?" Cara asked, cocking her head.
"Oh, don't act as if you didn't enjoy serving me," Rahl reprimanded, waving off her derisive tone. "Remember the time you dragged that Lorentian nobleman from the back of his horse for speaking ill of your sisters? Or the time you broke a whole platoon in four days?" Rahl sighed, his gaze both amused and serious as it met Cara's. "You were the best, Cara. I always knew you could be the kind of leader you became; I only wish you had done so while serving me."
"I remember," Cara said, her voice dry, though her eyes glinted with something approaching anger. "I remember many things. I remember breaking little girls, too-ones about Erin's age."
At Erin's name, Rahl's expression was transformed. He lost the cocky arrogance Cara had always associated with him, and some new light entered his eyes. He looked almost…sad. "Yes," he said softly, the corners of his lips turning down. "I don't think my mistress would care for the kind of work we did then. I hope she'll never discover what I've done."
"No lingering desires for ultimate dominion, then?" Cara taunted, leaning back against the cold stone walls of Rahl's room.
Rahl smiled faintly and shook his head. "No. I'm not an idiot, Cara. I know I've been Confessed; I know that's why I serve my mistress. But I don't care. Do you know what I face under the Keeper, when I die?"
"Eternal damnation?" Cara offered optimistically.
"Not eternal, no-not usually," Rahl answered coolly. "Very little in life and even death is eternal. The agony of those under the Keeper-it fades, eventually, because he has only temporary hold over souls, even if that hold lasts centuries. But my soul?" Rahl shook his head again, and Cara almost thought she caught traces of fear in the bitterness of his laugh. "It's not all here," he continued, thumping himself on his chest, above his heart. "I gave some of it to the Keeper so I could come back to the land of the living-just a bit-but enough. Enough for him to keep me, when I return. I thought it would be worth it."
"And was it?" Cara asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"No," Rahl said softly. "He's clever in some ways, the Keeper-though not clever enough to defeat Richard, which shows he's a fool in other areas." Cara snorted, inclined to agree. Rahl's smile faded, and his gaze went distant, beyond Cara to some place she couldn't see. "The moment I came back to the land of the living, I didn't care. The part of me that wanted the human glory, the power, the revenge-it wasn't there. I left it behind with my soul. But I sought it anyway. What else could I do?"
"Forgive me if I am unsympathetic to the irony of your situation," Cara responded, her eyes hard.
"I didn't think you would be," Rahl answered, the corner of his lips turning upwards again. He looked at Cara directly. "But when Erin Confessed me-it didn't matter anymore. I don't care that the Keeper will have my soul. I don't care what I do. I finally have a purpose. I serve her now, and that is…enough." Rahl's eyes went distant again, but now they had the peaceful and fervent glint of the fanatic.
Cara evaluated his expression carefully, and when she spoke, her tone was measured and curious. "If I told you to kill yourself, would you do it?"
Rahl's focus snapped immediately back to Cara, and he answered calmly, "No."
"Even though Erin commanded you to do as Kahlan and I tell you?"
"Again, Cara, you forget that I'm not an idiot," Rahl said with a smirk. "I love the Confessor, but she is six years old-let us just say that she has not fully developed her reasoning capabilities. Any direct command from her I will gladly obey, but I must make sure her protection comes first. If I feel your command could harm her, I cannot follow it."
Cara nodded; it was what she had expected. "You say you'll do whatever it takes to protect Erin?"
"Of course," Rahl answered immediately.
"Then I fail to see how can you refuse to kill yourself."
Rahl cocked an eyebrow. "Forgive me if your logic eludes me."
Cara snorted. "There is one thing in this world more constant than the rise of the sun and the fall of the moon, and that is that Darken Rahl will eternally be a thorn in the side of D'Hara. Tell me: are you confident you will always be under Confession? That no loyalist will find a Quillion to free you from Confession? That no scheme will suddenly free you from your bond? And when Erin dies-which she must, one day-will you go after her family? In truth, Rahl, what do you think is the first thing you would do if suddenly freed from Erin's powers?"
Rahl's face strained, and he seemed to be fighting a battle within himself; his utter and unshakable devotion to Erin warred with his intellectual knowledge that his love was dependent on magic. Finally, his face cleared, and the words that followed lacked any emotion. "I would kill her. And then I would try to kill Kahlan and Richard and you, and anyone who had seen me weakened like that."
"I know," Cara said, nodding once.
Rahl blinked and opened his mouth as if to speak, but couldn't seem to find the words. He closed his mouth and his jaw tightened. Then he gave a single, slow nod. "So be it."
"And you know how to do it, so you never come back again?" Cara asked, thinking of all the times Rahl had defied death before.
Rahl's returning smile was bitter. "Once I am in the Keeper's hands, I will never leave them, unless the Creator takes some strange pity on me."
"Good," Cara replied briskly. "We leave in three days time, and I don't particularly want to spend another two months traveling over your wretched countryside. Can you arrange for us to be sent back after you're…disposed of?"
"Never one for sentimentality, were you, Cara?" Rahl asked, his amusement now genuine. Cara shrugged. "Yes," Rahl continued calmly. "I have enspelled talismans that allow for instant travel over great distances. They can only transport a few at a time, but they should allow the three of you to travel back to your homeland. It will work after I'm…disposed of, did you say?" Rahl chuckled ruefully. "To think, it all ends like this." Rahl sighed. "Ah well, I suppose that has always been the fate of villains-ignominious ends, while the heroes get to die in glory, or surrounded by a host of sniveling offspring."
"So you finally admit you're the villain in all this?" Cara asked, finding herself strangely invested in what he would say.
Rahl laughed, that strange, hollow laugh of his that made the hair of her forearms stand at attention. "Of course. You and I, Cara-we're still monsters, no matter what we do from now on." Cara only shrugged, having long ago let that idea become a part of her. "Even if I do nothing but good for my mistress for the rest of my life-there's no amount of good that can replace what I've done. And you," he continued, appraising her carefully, something of the old, calculating Rahl in his eyes. "I know you think the same, though you've pined for her all your days." Cara's gaze snapped towards Rahl's face, and she took an involuntary step towards him, her fingers curling around the handle of her agiel. Rahl held up a staying hand, his expression amused. "Now, now Cara. You can't blame me for observing what's been tragically obvious for years to anyone with eyes in their head." He shook his head. "How strange, that the two of us should end like this, driven to the light by something as base and human as-"
"Enough," Cara interrupted sharply, but she didn't move to strike Rahl. She only closed her eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling tired. She opened her eyes to meet Rahl's. "I can scarcely believe I'm saying this, but I hope your devotion doesn't desert you, when you're with the Keeper."
"So do I," Rahl said softly, even as Cara turned to leave. "Do you think there's forgiveness somewhere, for us?" Rahl called after her, his tone curious.
Cara shrugged one more time, her back to Rahl. "Probably not," she said, and then she passed through the door.
*****
Two days later, they found Rahl's body in the middle of an intricate circle of mage marks and runes. He was dead, and neither Kahlan nor Cara was satisfied until they both watched his body burn.
23
The morning they left the keep, the air outside was crisp and sharp, smelling of crushed leaves and woodsmoke, and faintly of ash. The keep was practically abandoned, Rahl's servants dispersed and his prisoners freed. Cara had personally seen to the expulsion of the Mord'Sith days before, before Rahl died and whatever command he held over them died with him. She had warned them-facing their sullen faces, almost feeling the hardened lines of their bodies as they suppressed their instinctual desire to attack her-never to come north if they wanted to live. She realized her warning might simply drive them to meet her challenge, a result she was somewhat looking forward to. Several of them looked like they could almost match her, and after all her years of fighting, she had found few battles as exhilarating as those with other Mord'Sith.
She, Kahlan, and Erin stood in the middle of the Seer's Tower. Kahlan looked eager as she clutched one of the three gilt talismans Rahl had made, an amulet Cara had found characteristically tacky. Cara had to roll her eyes at the way Erin was practically bouncing with anticipation to return to the People's Palace. Strangely, Cara felt that she was the only one who wasn't ready to return. It was foolish, really; this whole quest had been about returning home. Perhaps her unease was because she had never really thought she would make it back alive.
Kahlan spoke the harsh, incomprehensible words of the incantation, and Cara suddenly felt as if someone had reached into her stomach, grabbed hold of her insides, and yanked. She closed her eyes, suppressing the sharp stab of nausea. When she opened her eyes, she was in Richard's chamber.
He was waiting for them. He sat at his desk, his face clean-shaven, a scroll clutched in his hand and clearly forgotten long ago. The moment they appeared, he rose from his chair, his eyes shining and his mouth parted as if he was going to speak. But he had no chance, because Erin was suddenly a blur, crossing the distance between them and flinging herself into Richard's arms. Richard sank down with Erin in his arms, and he knelt like that for a long moment, unspeaking. Cara watched them, feeling for a strange moment that Richard had never seemed so adult to her as he did at that moment.
After a long moment, Richard pulled away from Erin and looked her directly in the eyes. "Hello," he said softly, grinning that pure, clean grin of his.
"Hi," Erin whispered back. Richard looked up to meet Kahlan's gaze. He stood, his hand still holding Erin's, and Kahlan moved towards him so she could be folded up in Richard's arms.
"Hello to you too," Cara could hear him say into Kahlan's hair.
Kahlan laughed, a happy, choking sound, and pulled away. She searched Richard's open face, reaching up a hand and brushing her knuckles over his cheek. "We made it," she said simply, and Richard grinned bigger.
Then, before Cara could slip away, Richard looked her way. "Oh, get over here, Cara," he said, laughing. Cara sighed and rolled her eyes, but she filled the steps between them.
"My Lord-" she began stiffly, but found herself interrupted when Richard pulled her in for a crushing bear hug. She resisted the urge to squirm out of his grip, and even managed to give him a firm, perfunctory slap on the back.
"Thank you," she heard him whisper into her ear, and she swallowed hard when he finally pulled away.
"There's no need to get sentimental, Richard," Cara said.
Richard laughed again, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, Cara." He turned back to Kahlan and Erin, and seemingly unable to resist, he scooped Erin back up into his arms. She giggled as he began telling her about all the things they were going to do now that she was back. Kahlan watched the two of them, her eyes bright and her smile soft. Cara watched Kahlan for a moment; then, quietly, she slipped out the door.
*****
She found herself heading towards the stables, not really sure why. When she stepped into the building, she was immediately met by the almost overpowering smell of leather and hay and horses, mixed in with the far less pleasant scent of horseshit. Cara ignored the startled gazes of the hostlers and stableboys, instead making her way confidently towards the thoroughbreds and warhorses. She would need a new horse, if she was to make the trip back to the keep.
She stopped short the moment she reached the stalls, not quite sure whether she could trust her eyes. Standing there, placid as grazing cow, was her own horse.
"Son of a bitch," Cara murmured, before moving to place her hand on the side of her horse's face. Which was, of course, an idiotic thing to do; immediately the horse opened its mouth and proceeded to chomp down at her hand; only Cara's reflexes allowed her to snatch her hand back before she lost a few fingers. "I repeat-son of a bitch," Cara growled, scowling at the animal. The horse only snorted and resumed eating, and Cara couldn't prevent a wry smile.
Suddenly, she heard the soft tread of leather boots on hay, and heard a familiar voice say, "I thought I might find you here." Cara turned to see Adai, fully decked in her Mord'sith leather. A deep scar ran across her right cheekbone, and she seemed to be holding her right shoulder rather gingerly.
"Adai," Cara said, and only years of training kept her face from breaking its impassive front to reveal a grin that might rival Richard's.
"Mistress Cara," Adai said, dipping her head slightly. "I salvaged your horse, as you can see. The idiot beast had already wandered a half-mile by the time we returned. Almost took a finger off, too, when I first tried to harness him."
"He is a bit willful," Cara admitted. She eyed Adai, taking in the new scar, and trying to sound casual, she said, "I didn't know if you would make it."
Adai shrugged. "Not all of us did. We lost more than half of the company to that monster, but we killed it, eventually. It got in a lucky swipe-tore the ligament of my arm. It should heal eventually, though I only need one arm to wield an agiel."
"I know," Cara said dryly, remembering the bruises that usually accompanied a sparring match with Adai. "I am glad you rescued the horse," she continued, jerking her head its way. "He's an irritable monster, but he suits me, and I didn't particularly want to find another."
Adai nodded once; then her eyes narrowed as she took in Cara's soiled leather and unkempt hair. "They've set me up in a chamber in the northwest wing; I've been fighting against Gaiokos's forces since a few days ago. I stole some Findlish liquor from the larder."
Now Cara did smile, though she was sure to keep the expression within reason. "Give me fifteen minutes."
*****
Whatever its other faults, the People's Palace ran its bathhouses like a well-oiled military machine; in fifteen minutes, Cara was clean, redressed, and lounging in Adai's sparse chambers, a cup of Findlish liquor in her hand. She took another sip of the liquid, tasting delicate spices mixed with throat-scalding alcohol; Findlish liquor was renowned for its ability to intoxicate through smell alone. Adai sat across the table from Cara nursing her own drink.
They talked shop first. Cara offered Adai a brisk summary of all that had occurred since they parted. Adai seemed immensely satisfied to hear that Rahl was dead, and more than a little amused that he had died by his own hand, while devoted to the family he hated.
In turn, Cara demanded that Adai give details of the battles waged in the past few weeks. Adai had an almost poetic command over brutality, seeming to relish recounting the sound of each bone breaking and each enemy screaming. Her account made Cara repress a few sighs of envy.
"And I missed it all," Cara finally said with a disgusted snort, slamming her empty goblet down on the table with more violence than was necessary. "I'm the Lord Rahl's general, yet I missed an entire war. I wonder how that reputation Richard's always going on about will fare now."
"Surely you jest," Adai said, a wicked gleam entering her eyes, one Cara was not entirely comfortable with. "You went into the mysterious Old Kingdom, just you and the Mother Confessor, facing unknown evils in your quest to rescue the Lord Rahl's daughter. Not only did you bring her back-and these D'Haran commoners seem to have an unnatural attachment to our lord's daughter-but you killed Darken Rahl and were instrumental in defeating Gaiokos's forces. You're more a hero now than ever-I've even begun hearing a few folk songs about your exploits."
"You're kidding," Cara replied, her voice filled with horror.
"I never joke about folk songs," Adai answered flatly. Her lips twitched. "I'm afraid you must come to terms with it, mistress. We live in an age that glorifies heroes, and you're considered one of them, now."
Cara scowled, suddenly wishing there was a minstrel nearby she could pummel. "It's ridiculous," she muttered. "The fools will seize any chance to turn a simple battle into a tale of theatrics. You know, Kahlan told me they were thinking of erecting a monument to Lastings."
Adai shrugged. "And why shouldn't they? Tannic killed a distasteful number of people for no reason, at a time when the land was still recovering from war. He was a tyrant and would have killed many more; it's a good thing you killed him."
"And if they knew how I killed him?" Cara asked, meeting Adai's eyes.
"Who cares?" Adai said bluntly. "I would have done exactly what you did-I probably would have killed the children, too."
"I know," Cara said dryly. "So would I, years ago."
"And a few years ago, I would have said that was the right thing to do," Adai answered, reaching over to uncork the wine. She poured them each another glass. "But now I'm not sure. Not because I think it's wrong-I don't give an ass's droppings about traitors and their sniveling brats." She gave Cara a hard stare, as if daring her to make some comment about her weakness. Cara only took a sip of her drink, letting Adai continue speaking. "But serving our Lord Rahl has convinced me of something Darken Rahl never quite seemed to understand: fear doesn't always work. Fear makes people unhappy, and unhappy people rebel-it's how Lord Rahl was able to defeat Darken Rahl the first time. There's a time for fear, thankfully, and there are many, many times for pain. But I am willing to admit that other tactics are occasionally…useful."
"You sound like Dahlia," Cara said without thinking, her mind skipping back to a warm summer day during a lull in the campaign, when she and Dahlia had lain in bed for hours, occasionally finding the time to talk in between vigorous bouts of sex. Cara caught herself before she could get lost in the memory, casting a sharp glance Adai's way. But Adai only lifted an eyebrow, waiting, so Cara continued speaking. "Dahlia wasn't a Mord'Sith, but she would have made a good one. She was very…practical about what needed to be done, which I'm sure you knew. She appreciated the Mord'Sith-called us 'useful scourges in red leather packages.'" Cara smiled slightly at the memory, before shaking her head. "But she also said that the first Rahl was an idiot, because he made us too rigid. He was too intent on fear and pain that he didn't make us able to adapt. Pain is, of course, the best tactic, but it's still only one tactic."
"She wasn't completely right, you know," Adai pointed out, leaning back in her chair to eye Cara. "We did manage to change, or at least some of us did."
"Maybe," Cara said with a shrug. "But sometimes I wonder what she would have thought about…everything."
"Well, stop wondering," Adai snapped, and Cara's gaze shot up to meet Adai's. Any pretense that Adai was subservient to Cara-an assumption that had really only ever been on the surface-was by now gone, swept away by the many years (and the Findlish wine) that lay between them. Adai spoke bluntly. "Whatever their other faults, the Mord'Sith have always gotten one thing right: we don't do regret. And we certainly don't do guilt. I think Dahlia would agree with us on that." She stared at Cara intently. "The past is past, Cara. You can't change it. You can only move forward."
They sat in silence for a moment, Cara allowing Adai's words to echo in her head. Then, as if one, they realized how completely undignified for a Mord'Sith this whole mess had become. "This appears to be a particularly strong batch of wine," Cara offered.
"Indeed," Adai responded with a nod. "I feel the urge to clear my head. Would my mistress perhaps care to spar?"
To Cara at that moment, nothing in the world sounded better.
24
Cara spent the next few days assessing the status of the People's Palace and conferring east and south. She saw Richard and Kahlan during some of these sessions, but they were all busy putting their respective territories back in order.
Cara did find time, however, to continue sparring. And somehow, like a bloodhound trained to track Cara's scent alone, Erin found her. The first time Erin showed up on the training grounds, flanked by her nurse and her personal guard, Cara nearly groaned. Then she sighed and beckoned for Erin to come over.
They fell back into their rhythm. If any of the palace staff found the sight of Cara Mason-Mord'Sith, general of the South, scourge of D'Hara and the Midlands-training the rather diminutive heir to D'Hara on how to properly execute a sweep-and-stomp combination, they held their tongues.
Cara was pleased at how focused Erin was when Cara was teaching her, and thought that one day the girl might even make a decent fighter. Of course, the moment they stepped outside the training ground, it was nothing but questions, questions, questions pelted at Cara on every subject under the sun. Cara would grit her teeth, answer the ones worth answering, and respond, "Ask your mother," to all the others.
Despite Erin's seemingly full recovery, however, Cara couldn't help but notice occasional flashes of darkness in the girl. Like the time a large, dark-haired emissary from Aldrin thoughtlessly rammed into Erin as he was rushing through the halls. Erin immediately flinched back, her eyes filling with some old terror. Without knowing how it happened, Cara found herself grabbing the man by his tunic, throwing him across the room like a ragdoll, and holding him by the throat as she pressed her agiel against his bobbing adam's apple. The man's eyes were wild with pain and terror. Cara stepped back, letting him flee back to his quarters. No doubt he would make a fuss about that terrible Mord'Sith Richard insisted on keeping around, and Richard would have to do something particularly distasteful to soothe the Duchess of Aldrin's ruffled feathers.
Cara turned to face Erin, whose expression had returned to the bright, curious one she had held before the incident. "You didn't have to do that," she said sternly, as if she was scolding Cara.
Cara rolled her eyes. "I am aware of that, highness. Perhaps I merely wanted to teach that Aldrin fool some manners." She eyed Erin before cocking an eyebrow. "One day you'll be able to do that for yourself, you know."
At this, Erin looked immensely happy.
*****
The days passed as steadily as the drift of autumn's falling leaves, and there was only so much that needed Cara's attention at the People's Palace. Only a week after her arrival, she began to prepare to leave; she was needed down south. She did not publicize her departure. Adai had left days before to return to the Mord'Sith temple, and there was no one else Cara needed to inform other than Richard.
She was heading towards his chamber, her horse already saddled and her rucksack filled with supplies, when she passed by Erin's door. Four guards stood outside it, and they inclined their head to her slightly before resuming their stances of stoic disregard. Cara paused, studying the intricate carvings adorning the door. Her fingers twitched, and she lifted her hand to hover over the handle. Then she gave a single, vigorous shake of her head, ignoring the quizzical looks the guards were trying not to cast her. Even if the child cared, there was no point in making a scene; it would be better for her if Cara just disappeared.
Cara continued towards Richard's private rooms. She knocked once at his door, the massive, garishly engraved panels so thick the sound barely registered in the air, and then pushed her way in. The antechamber was empty, so Cara called Richard's name, feeling a surge of irritation at the thought that she might need to hunt for him through the palace. She made her way inside to the inner room, and then stopped just outside the inner chamber's entrance. Kahlan was sitting on one of the room's chairs, Richard kneeling in front of her, both his hands holding onto Kahlan's where they rested on her lap. Kahlan's back was slightly curved so she could rest her forehead against Richard's. They weren't speaking, and it was such a moment of intimacy that Cara immediately took a step backwards, feeling a sudden need to escape before they noticed her.
But Richard must have heard her movement, because he opened his eyes and looked Cara's way. "Cara," he said softly, rising to his feet. He still held Kahlan's hands, and he gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I've been expecting you."
"My Lord?" Cara questioned, and Richard smiled.
"We've known you were planning to leave since you first started ordering the hostlers around. I may have been busy recently, but I still know what goes on around my own palace. You didn't think you could sneak away without saying goodbye, did you?"
"I had hoped," Cara answered wryly, and Richard's laughed.
"Come on-let's talk in the outer chamber," he said, nodding towards the door. Cara complied, moving a few feet more into the outer chamber. Richard followed, turning to close the door behind them. Kahlan still sat, her hands loose and palms open in her lap. Cara cast Kahlan a questioning glance, but Kahlan only offered a little half shrug, her reticence forcing a scowl out of Cara. Before Richard closed the door, Cara caught a last look that passed between them, but before she could interpret it, Richard had turned to face Cara, his expression clear. "So," he began, "you're heading back south?"
"I thought it would be best," Cara answered coolly. "There's nothing more I can do here, and I need to see just how much things have fallen apart in my absence."
Richard chuckled. "I suspect a lot, but Besdick and Amista seem to have done a fine job while you were gone."
Cara sniffed. "Perhaps. Though the last I heard, Amista had to threaten to garrote the leader of the iron guild before he would provide supplies for rebuilding."
Richard laughed again. "Sounds like something you would do."
"No," Cara retorted. "I would threaten to dip him in scalding water up to his chin, then make him hang from the battlements at the mercy of the sun and carrion birds."
"Mm," Richard responded, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. Then his expression became serious. "I know I've been busy these last few days, and we haven't had much chance to speak. So I haven't been able to properly thank you."
"I was only doing my duty, Richard," Cara answered, rolling her eyes.
Richard shook his head. "Don't do that, Cara-I know you too well." He took a deep breath. "I don't know that I've ever depended on anyone as much as I depend on you, and sometimes I…take that for granted." Cara shifted her feet, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. Richard held her gaze. "I knew if anyone could get her back, see Kahlan safely back too, it was you. I've owed you my life for a long time-you've saved it enough times." Cara snorted her agreement, and Richard smiled. "I think I may owe you more, now."
"Again, my Lord," Cara said through gritted teeth, "I only did my duty."
Richard sighed, looking very much the put-upon lord in that moment. "I know. You always have. You've done more for the realm than I ever envisioned. But I don't know if I always thought about what was best for you."
"Serving the Lord Rahl is best for me," Cara answered immediately, part of her wanted to box the idiocy out of Richard's ears, the other part wanting to escape the room as quickly as possible. "You shouldn't have regrets, Richard," Cara continued pointedly, recalling her conversation with Adai. "What's done is done."
"I know," Richard answered, something resigned in his voice. Then he took a step towards Cara, and for a moment, Cara thought he would give her another of his insufferable hugs. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Don't become a stranger, Cara," he whispered into her ear. "And don't forget where your home is." Cara swallowed, for once at a loss for words. Richard pulled back, and his soft, simple Richard-smile returned to his face. "Now go inside," he instructed, gesturing towards the inner chamber. "Kahlan's waiting."
Cara nodded, knowing her confusion was etched on her face. Richard only turned and headed towards the outer door, pushing it open and gently closing it behind him.
*****
Kahlan stood when Cara entered the room. She wore her white Confessor's robe, along with all the studied calm and unspoken power that always seemed to accompany it. The early morning light was slipping through the arched windows, giving Kahlan's robe the almost ethereal glow that so seemed to impress the commoners. Not for the first time, Cara wondered how she kept the cursed thing so clean.
"You're husband is acting strange," Cara began bluntly, scowling.
"Why do I think he might say the same of you?" Kahlan said, before her expression became more earnest. "So you're leaving?"
"Yes," Cara said. "It's time."
Kahlan nodded, her face unreadable. Then she took a step towards Cara and reached out to touch Cara's hand, the tips of her fingers warm against Cara's palm. Cara's jaw clenched as she tried her hardest to make herself pull away. But Kahlan was the sun just then, and when she leaned in, Cara leaned back, pulled and trapped in orbit. Kahlan pressed her lips to Cara's, the kiss soft and deep. Helplessly, Cara kissed her back, her fingers tightening around Kahlan's. Then she wrenched herself free.
"Enough," she said harshly, yanking her hand out of Kahlan's. "We can't do this anymore, not here. Not to Richard."
For a moment, Cara could swear the world had gone mad, because the look Kahlan was casting her was the same one Cara employed when she wanted someone else to wince at their own stupidity. "Cara, he knows."
"What?" Cara said, too stunned to do more than stare at Kahlan.
Kahlan, infuriatingly, looked like she was holding back a laugh. "Come on, Cara. Did you really think I would hide something like that from him? Did you think this thing between us was just a passing fancy?"
"Wouldn't that be best?" Cara retorted.
"For who?"
"For you and Richard!" Cara snapped, as if this answer was painfully obvious.
Kahlan shook her head, regarding Cara seriously. "This isn't some fling, Cara. You know that as well as I do."
"So what?" Cara said, a sneer entering her voice. "Did Richard grant you permission? You should know that the only time anyone will ever call me mistress is if I've beaten them into submission."
"I don't need permission from Richard for anything," Kahlan said, the words whipping out of her, her eyes flashing with a sudden anger. Then her expression became more amused as she lifted an eyebrow. "And I cannot imagine in what world anyone would even think to suggest an arrangement like that to you, for fear of losing a limb."
Cara released a little huff of agreement before shaking her head. "You can't seriously be suggesting we let this continue," Cara said. "You can't seriously be proposing you…what? Leave Richard for me?" The notion was so preposterous Cara could hardly voice the words, and her next words were laced with scorn. "Can you imagine the uproar? The end of the epic romance between the Seeker and the Mother Confessor? The end of any hope of further heirs to D'Hara?"
"There won't be any more heirs, Cara," Kahlan said quietly, and there was a deep sadness in her voice that confirmed everything Cara had already known. "I'll always care for Richard, but it's been some time since we've had that kind of love."
"So pretend!" Cara exclaimed, nearly throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Rulers have had sham marriages for the good of their realms for centuries."
"To what purpose?" Kahlan asked.
"To hold the realm together," Cara sputtered. "To give the people what they want."
"Since when have you cared what people think, Cara?" Kahlan asked, looking at Cara skeptically.
"I don't," Cara answered, glaring at Kahlan. "But you should-you're their rulers."
"And you’re their general," Kahlan pointed out. "Like it or not, you're as much a hero at this point as we are. You've earned their respect." Cara snorted derisively, but Kahlan kept talking, her tone wry. "The Midlands and D'Hara will not fall apart because Richard and I are no longer the stuff of sappy romance. I like to think our people are made of sterner stuff."
"Your people are idiots," Cara snapped back, before giving a violent shake of her head and beginning to pace the room. She drew a deep breath. "So what do you propose, in this grand plan of yours? Even if we tried-" Cara paused, smothering the almost painful stab of hope that shot through her in favor of making her voice hard, "-you're in Aydindril and I need to oversee the South. Look what happened last time you neglected your duties."
Kahlan managed to ignore Cara's jibe, though her jaw tightened as if she was biting back a particularly cutting retort. Then she sighed. "We'll manage. It won't be easy, but when have things ever been easy for us? And we have Rahl's amulets, now. We can use them to see each other often whenever we need to."
"Could you do that again?" Cara asked with uncharacteristic uncertainty as she began to think that maybe, just maybe, Kahlan meant it. "Isn't that what drove you and Richard apart?"
Kahlan shook her head. "It wasn't distance, Cara. We changed, that's all."
"And what if we change?" Cara asked, trying her hardest to make the words like stone.
"You already have," Kahlan said, holding Cara's gaze in her own. "So have I. It's how we ended up here. The past is important. I don't want either of us to forget it. All we are is our stories." Cara closed her eyes, knowing Kahlan was talking about Dahlia, but also about Lastings and war and all the days they spent never saying enough. She opened her eyes to meet Kahlan's. "But it's time for us to move forward."
"What about Erin?" Cara said suddenly, searching for an excuse like a drowning man clutching at driftwood.
"Erin adores you, Cara," Kahlan said, her eyes laughing. "And Richard's not going anywhere. She'll have me, and she'll have Richard, and I hope that sometimes she'll have you, too. After all, someone has to teach her how to beat up all the other children her age." Cara shook her head, her hands balling into fists. Kahlan frowned, her forehead crinkling with her concern as she stared at Cara. "Stop making excuses, Cara. What are you so afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Cara retorted.
"Liar," Kahlan whispered, her lips curling upwards. She took a step towards Cara, and Cara drew a deep breath. But this time, when Kahlan kissed her, Cara didn't pull away.
Cara's fists unclenched, her hands finally creeping up to rest on Kahlan's hips, as if they belonged there. They stood like that for a long moment, warm sun on their skin and a stillness to the air. Cara's mind wanted to reevaluate, to determine what this meant and how it could be possible and if she could finally, finally stop running. Her body primarily wanted her mind to shut up.
And, slowly, Cara felt herself let go. Days and years and loss and distance fell away, until there didn't seem to be much left at all. But there was still Kahlan, and the rest Cara could find easily enough, if she ever needed it again. She was, after all, quite resourceful.
They moved apart, no more than an inch, and Kahlan smiled, her whole face lighting up with the joy of it.
"Welcome home."
The End
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 67,000
Summary: Years after they sealed the rift, Cara discovers that being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be, and Kahlan discovers that Cara still makes things complicated.
21
Things felt no more real when Kahlan began to come to Cara's chambers.
She first came almost two weeks after their arrival at Rahl's keep. It was late, the time of night when the air feels stiller and quieter than even in the earliest hours of the morning. Cara was still awake, bent over the plain wooden desk that was her chamber's only furniture besides the bed and washstand. She assumed Kahlan was long asleep, though she had little way of knowing-the wall between Cara's room and that of Kahlan and Erin was thick, like all the walls in Rahl's fortress. Rahl had clearly modeled the building after his Mord'Sith temples, where walls were built of solid stone to prevent the unfortunate sounds of screams from disturbing the important business of the upper levels.
The item that held Cara's attention was a message sent from Grayson via journey book, detailing recent casualties and supplies, as well as a report of the chaos Gaiokos's easternmost forces had experienced when two thirds of their company suddenly disappeared, swept back to the chilly plains of Rasmin. All of the information could wait until the morning, but Cara had found herself pacing away her sleep that evening, feeling soft and domesticated in the loose breeches and tunic Kahlan had firmly told her were more suitable bedclothes than her much-worn leather. Cara had considered fighting out her impatience with some late-night training in the courtyard, but she would have to pass through the door into Kahlan and Erin's room to get to the outer entrance, and she didn't want to disturb their sleep. So, instead, she had pulled out a candle, an ink well, and several sheaves of stiff parchment, and she had begun writing.
Her candle was almost down to its nub when she finally sighed and tossed her feathered pen on the table's surface, not really caring that it spattered ink droplets on the missive to Grayson that she had just spent an hour writing; Grayson cared as little for aesthetics as she did. Cara leaned back in her chair, rolling her neck in a circle and hearing the faint popping of protesting joints. Idly, she held up her right hand, staring at it as she turned it this way and that. In the dim light of the candle, the dark ink stains made strange patterns against the white scars that crisscrossed her palm. There was a time when ink on her fingers would have been a foreign sight, though scars had always been at home on her skin.
She heard the faint sound of metal against stone, and she turned her head to see the door to Kahlan's chamber inch open. Cara was already on her feet by the time Kahlan entered, closing the door behind her.
Kahlan stood still, just a foot inside the door. She looked almost an apparition in the dim light of the room, her white sleeping gown giving an ethereal glow to her skin. But then she took a step towards Cara, and she became solid and real again.
"Kahlan," Cara said, frowning. "It's late-did something happen?"
Kahlan shook her head, once, and then took the four long strides to close the distance between them. Before Cara could say anything more, Kahlan had slid her arms around Cara and pulled her in for a long, unquestioning kiss. Cara let out a breath against Kahlan's mouth, but then she was kissing back, her own arms pulling Kahlan towards her until she could feel the soft press of Kahlan's breasts through the thin fabric of their clothes. Cara let her fingers sink into the flesh at Kahlan's hips, let her tongue dart into Kahlan's mouth where Kahlan's tongue met hers eagerly. For just a moment, Cara considered protesting, considered stopping it all. But Kahlan's hands were already tugging at Cara's shirt, and Cara was already wet with need, and none of this was real, anyway.
Kahlan's kisses were hard, and Cara returned them sloppily, eagerly, like this was her first time. Kahlan was tugging at the hem of Cara's shirt, and Cara reluctantly stopped kissing Kahlan so she could lift her arms and Kahlan could slip the garment over her head. Cara reciprocated speedily by yanking at the strings of Kahlan's bodice.
"Could your sleeping garments possibly have more ties?" Cara muttered, just before she simply ripped the strings out.
Kahlan laughed throatily, her eyes dancing with amusement as they met Cara's. And then Kahlan slipped her hand below the band of Cara's breeches. Cara couldn't help but groan, bucking against Kahlan's teasing fingers where they pressed and just began to stroke. But Cara refused to let Kahlan get the best of her in this at least, so she gave Kahlan a slight shove until Kahlan's knees hit the edge of Cara's bed. She watched as Kahlan pulled her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Then Cara could do nothing but admire Kahlan for a moment, Kahlan who sat almost primly on the edge of her bed, freckles and smooth skin and a smile half-shy, half-challenge. Kahlan cocked an eyebrow, and that was all the invitation Cara needed.
Cara quickly shucked off her own clothing, not missing the way Kahlan watched her, the way Kahlan swallowed hard when Cara was finally naked. Cara then moved to the bed, resting one knee on each side of Kahlan's thighs. She let herself grind ground down onto Kahlan, just for a moment, feeling where she met Kahlan's flesh slickly. Then Cara kissed Kahlan, letting the momentum of her body push her back against the bed. Cara broke away so she could kiss down Kahlan's throat, lick a trail across her collarbone, close her mouth around her nipple. Kahlan arched up against Cara, saying her name as she wrapped her fingers through Cara's hair and pushed her down harder.
Cara moved her tongue over Kahlan's breast and let her fingers dance down her belly. At the first light brush of her fingers, Kahlan gasped and bucked upwards, and Cara couldn't help but marvel at how easily her fingers slid into Kahlan, at how they came away sticky with Kahlan's need.
Cara watched Kahlan's face as her fingers became more confident. Kahlan held Cara's gaze for a moment, as if meeting Cara's eyes was a sign of her control. But then Kahlan had to close her eyes as she let out a low, needy moan. "Spirits, Cara," she whispered, her voice strained. "Spirits, spirits."
When Kahlan came--a low sound in her voice, the fingers of her right hand gripping Cara's forearm--Cara felt Kahlan's magic brush her, like it had the first time. But that was all, and then Kahlan collapsed back on the bed, and Cara was lying beside her. Cara felt the uneven rise and fall of Kahlan's chest, and she breathed in the warm, soft scent that never seemed to leave Kahlan. Kahlan's eyes were still closed, and even though Cara was aching with need, she didn't want anything more than this.
But when, moments later, Kahlan recovered and began to kiss her way down Cara's stomach, Cara found she didn't really mind.
*****
Kahlan went back to her room before the night was over, as she would on every occasion after. Cara knew it was because Kahlan didn't want Erin waking up and wondering where Kahlan had gone, and she didn't begrudge her this. Each time, Kahlan would slip her clothes back on and give Cara a look that bordered on apology. Cara would only shrug and smile wryly, pulling Kahlan down for a final kiss, so she wouldn't forget. And maybe sometimes this kiss was a little harder than necessary, and maybe sometimes it bruised Kahlan's lips, but Kahlan never complained-she would only kiss back just as hard, her hand curving gently around Cara's jaw, and then she would leave.
Their days fell into a pattern. They would confer with Aydindril, the People's Palace, and the Southern Keep in the morning, consulting with Rahl when necessary. In the afternoons, they sparred in the courtyards. Kahlan began teaching Erin how to use her daggers (though Erin was only allowed to use wooden practice knives Cara carved for her), and Cara continued to show Erin how to fight barehanded. After a couple of weeks, Erin's flailings became slightly more controlled, and Cara decided she no longer needed to be embarrassed at the child's initial lack of coordination. In the evening, they shared dinner when they could, Erin's swift recovery evident by the way her constant, unstoppable chattering would fill up the room, giving Cara a headache but making Kahlan smile in that soft way Cara noticed more and more.
Erin had initially seemed too respectful, or perhaps too intimidated, to be fully open around Cara. But by their second week of training, Cara's studied persona of menace was no match for Erin's curiosity. While Erin remained respectful and slightly in awe during training, the moment they went inside she would begin barraging Cara with questions about her adventures with Kahlan and Richard, and what it was like to be a general of an army, and how many people she had killed. Erin was perpetually being disappointed with Cara's stories, which usually began with, "We fought," and ended with, "And then we killed them." Kahlan indulged her more, spinning dramatic yarns of their adventures fighting skreelings and banelings and the Keeper's minions. Despite her best efforts to remain silent, though, Cara couldn't help butting in occasionally to correct Kahlan's inaccuracies. Most of Cara's remarks were snide, Richard and Kahlan's idealism her frequent target, but every now and then she would get caught up and take over the thread of the story, taking a perverse pleasure in describing the screams of her opponents and the bright arcs of blood she could summon with her agiels. A couple of times Kahlan had to stop Cara before the stories became too graphic, though Erin never seemed to mind. Erin would listen to Cara, eyes wide and shining, and sometimes Cara would feel a strange rush of contentment wash over her in these moments. Then she would recover, shake her head, and offer a blunt, "And then we killed them," and Erin would pout, turning towards Kahlan for more details.
And in the evenings, Kahlan would come. She didn't come every night, and Cara rarely knew beforehand when she would. On the nights when Kahlan stayed away, Cara sometimes found herself waiting, sleep far out of reach, only thinking, thinking, thinking of Kahlan's fingers and the flutter of her eyelids and the slope of her throat as she tilted her head back and said Cara's name so necessarily.
(Sometimes in the moments afterwards, when they lay tangled up in each other and breathing hard, Cara didn't like to meet Kahlan's eyes. She would get caught, if she did that.)
It was exactly what Cara had never wanted, what she had spent years ensuring would never happen: the pining, the waiting. And maybe if it had all been real-if they hadn't been by themselves, in this far away place out of time, nowhere, really-she wouldn't have stood for it. But she was tired. And Kahlan under her hands…between her fingers… at her lips. It was too much.
And it didn't really matter, anyway.
22
On the day the last handful of resistant oak leaves turned shades of orange and brown, they received the message from Richard: Gaiokos was dead. Richard didn't seem elated when he told Cara, just relieved. By that point, Rahl's summonings had chipped away at Gaiokos's forces so steadily that surrender was already a foregone conclusion, but Gaiokos had apparently clung stubbornly to his visions of defeating D'Hara and the Midlands. Cara felt strange, listening to Richard recount the fight as she stood in the Seer's Tower. Gaiokos was a dark force, perhaps the greatest threat to D'Hara since Lord Rahl. But he was just a name to her. A whole war had gone on without her. Part of her seethed that she had missed out on all the action; part of her couldn't muster the energy to regret.
It came time for them to discuss what to do with Rahl. Cara didn't hesitate to suggest they kill him. Neither Richard nor Kahlan seemed particularly opposed to the idea, but both immediately and vociferously refused to have Erin give the order. And, though Erin's order ostensibly forced Rahl to do as Kahlan and Cara told him, they both suspected Rahl would not submit willingly if they told him he would need to die. As much as it galled Cara to admit it, she wasn't sure she and Kahlan were a match for Rahl if he decided it was in his mistress's best interest for him to disobey them.
"Maybe we should leave him here," Kahlan finally suggested with a sigh, her face pinched after hours of standing in the tower's small circle with Cara. "As horrible as it is, he's loyal to Erin; he would make sure no one in the Old Kingdom ever tried another attack on D'Hara."
"Maybe," Richard said noncommittally, and Cara knew that all Richard really wanted was Rahl out of their lives, finally and forever.
"There's no need to decide right now," Cara interjected, her voice impatient. "We need a few days to prepare to leave. We'll figure out something by then."
Richard gave her a quizzical look and opened his mouth to object; it wasn't normally Cara's style to delay action. But then Cara cast him a look, one full of unspoken meaning, and he shut his mouth, giving the barest of nods. Kahlan didn't seem to notice, a testament to how tired she was-once the last of the Southern troops attacking Aydindril had cleared out, she had resumed her duties as Mother Confessor, delivering judgments as her steward read petitions to her.
The three of them turned to other matters, taking care of the last bits of business before saying tired goodnights. Kahlan immediately went to check on Erin, but Cara took the east corridor, towards Rahl's room.
His room lay far from Kahlan and Cara's, though near the Seer's tower and the chamber where he performed his magic. They never let him near Erin-never, not even when he almost begged them. Cara remembered that moment, so bizarre it was: Darken Rahl, scourge of D'Hara, pleading that he be allowed to visit his six-year-old mistress. Kahlan and Cara had both refused, and Erin's command that he obey them forced him to keep his distance. Still, Cara knew that if they ever asked him to do something he thought would harm Erin, he would refuse. She remembered the tale of Dennee's mate, who was able to directly refuse her order to kill her child because he decided the child's death would not serve Dennee best.
Cara pushed herself into Rahl's room, not bothering to knock. He sat at his plain wooden table, hunched over a scroll spread before him. He looked up when Cara entered, offering her the faintest of sardonic smiles. His hair was in a tie at the nape of his neck; pulled back that way, rather than hanging in lanky strands around his face, it made him seem younger. There was something else in him that made him seem younger, something new in his eyes that Cara couldn't quite place. But Darken Rahl's relative age was not something that really concerned Cara, so she wasted no time speaking: "We'll be leaving soon."
Rahl nodded, as if he had been expecting this. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Cara, his expression wry. "So, then, Cara-exalted general." Cara scowled at Rahl's faintly mocking tone, her fingers itching to lay an agiel across his smirking face. "Ready to leave once and for all and hurry back to your homeland? Well, good luck, I suppose," he continued, waving his hand idly. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he met Cara's eyes. "But if you only knew what was in store for you, before you reached those shores…" he shrugged, "maybe you would stay with me, like in the old days, and help me run this land."
"I don't think I remember our days together as fondly as you do, Rahl," Cara drawled. "Besides, I'm not worried about the future. I've weathered worse, I'm sure."
"Perhaps," Rahl mused, rising to his feet and rolling up his scroll. He tapped it on the table and sealed it with wax, twisting the scroll this way and that as the dark red liquid hardened. He turned to face Cara again, his expression droll. "But we did have some good times, didn't we?"
"Did we?" Cara asked, cocking her head.
"Oh, don't act as if you didn't enjoy serving me," Rahl reprimanded, waving off her derisive tone. "Remember the time you dragged that Lorentian nobleman from the back of his horse for speaking ill of your sisters? Or the time you broke a whole platoon in four days?" Rahl sighed, his gaze both amused and serious as it met Cara's. "You were the best, Cara. I always knew you could be the kind of leader you became; I only wish you had done so while serving me."
"I remember," Cara said, her voice dry, though her eyes glinted with something approaching anger. "I remember many things. I remember breaking little girls, too-ones about Erin's age."
At Erin's name, Rahl's expression was transformed. He lost the cocky arrogance Cara had always associated with him, and some new light entered his eyes. He looked almost…sad. "Yes," he said softly, the corners of his lips turning down. "I don't think my mistress would care for the kind of work we did then. I hope she'll never discover what I've done."
"No lingering desires for ultimate dominion, then?" Cara taunted, leaning back against the cold stone walls of Rahl's room.
Rahl smiled faintly and shook his head. "No. I'm not an idiot, Cara. I know I've been Confessed; I know that's why I serve my mistress. But I don't care. Do you know what I face under the Keeper, when I die?"
"Eternal damnation?" Cara offered optimistically.
"Not eternal, no-not usually," Rahl answered coolly. "Very little in life and even death is eternal. The agony of those under the Keeper-it fades, eventually, because he has only temporary hold over souls, even if that hold lasts centuries. But my soul?" Rahl shook his head again, and Cara almost thought she caught traces of fear in the bitterness of his laugh. "It's not all here," he continued, thumping himself on his chest, above his heart. "I gave some of it to the Keeper so I could come back to the land of the living-just a bit-but enough. Enough for him to keep me, when I return. I thought it would be worth it."
"And was it?" Cara asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"No," Rahl said softly. "He's clever in some ways, the Keeper-though not clever enough to defeat Richard, which shows he's a fool in other areas." Cara snorted, inclined to agree. Rahl's smile faded, and his gaze went distant, beyond Cara to some place she couldn't see. "The moment I came back to the land of the living, I didn't care. The part of me that wanted the human glory, the power, the revenge-it wasn't there. I left it behind with my soul. But I sought it anyway. What else could I do?"
"Forgive me if I am unsympathetic to the irony of your situation," Cara responded, her eyes hard.
"I didn't think you would be," Rahl answered, the corner of his lips turning upwards again. He looked at Cara directly. "But when Erin Confessed me-it didn't matter anymore. I don't care that the Keeper will have my soul. I don't care what I do. I finally have a purpose. I serve her now, and that is…enough." Rahl's eyes went distant again, but now they had the peaceful and fervent glint of the fanatic.
Cara evaluated his expression carefully, and when she spoke, her tone was measured and curious. "If I told you to kill yourself, would you do it?"
Rahl's focus snapped immediately back to Cara, and he answered calmly, "No."
"Even though Erin commanded you to do as Kahlan and I tell you?"
"Again, Cara, you forget that I'm not an idiot," Rahl said with a smirk. "I love the Confessor, but she is six years old-let us just say that she has not fully developed her reasoning capabilities. Any direct command from her I will gladly obey, but I must make sure her protection comes first. If I feel your command could harm her, I cannot follow it."
Cara nodded; it was what she had expected. "You say you'll do whatever it takes to protect Erin?"
"Of course," Rahl answered immediately.
"Then I fail to see how can you refuse to kill yourself."
Rahl cocked an eyebrow. "Forgive me if your logic eludes me."
Cara snorted. "There is one thing in this world more constant than the rise of the sun and the fall of the moon, and that is that Darken Rahl will eternally be a thorn in the side of D'Hara. Tell me: are you confident you will always be under Confession? That no loyalist will find a Quillion to free you from Confession? That no scheme will suddenly free you from your bond? And when Erin dies-which she must, one day-will you go after her family? In truth, Rahl, what do you think is the first thing you would do if suddenly freed from Erin's powers?"
Rahl's face strained, and he seemed to be fighting a battle within himself; his utter and unshakable devotion to Erin warred with his intellectual knowledge that his love was dependent on magic. Finally, his face cleared, and the words that followed lacked any emotion. "I would kill her. And then I would try to kill Kahlan and Richard and you, and anyone who had seen me weakened like that."
"I know," Cara said, nodding once.
Rahl blinked and opened his mouth as if to speak, but couldn't seem to find the words. He closed his mouth and his jaw tightened. Then he gave a single, slow nod. "So be it."
"And you know how to do it, so you never come back again?" Cara asked, thinking of all the times Rahl had defied death before.
Rahl's returning smile was bitter. "Once I am in the Keeper's hands, I will never leave them, unless the Creator takes some strange pity on me."
"Good," Cara replied briskly. "We leave in three days time, and I don't particularly want to spend another two months traveling over your wretched countryside. Can you arrange for us to be sent back after you're…disposed of?"
"Never one for sentimentality, were you, Cara?" Rahl asked, his amusement now genuine. Cara shrugged. "Yes," Rahl continued calmly. "I have enspelled talismans that allow for instant travel over great distances. They can only transport a few at a time, but they should allow the three of you to travel back to your homeland. It will work after I'm…disposed of, did you say?" Rahl chuckled ruefully. "To think, it all ends like this." Rahl sighed. "Ah well, I suppose that has always been the fate of villains-ignominious ends, while the heroes get to die in glory, or surrounded by a host of sniveling offspring."
"So you finally admit you're the villain in all this?" Cara asked, finding herself strangely invested in what he would say.
Rahl laughed, that strange, hollow laugh of his that made the hair of her forearms stand at attention. "Of course. You and I, Cara-we're still monsters, no matter what we do from now on." Cara only shrugged, having long ago let that idea become a part of her. "Even if I do nothing but good for my mistress for the rest of my life-there's no amount of good that can replace what I've done. And you," he continued, appraising her carefully, something of the old, calculating Rahl in his eyes. "I know you think the same, though you've pined for her all your days." Cara's gaze snapped towards Rahl's face, and she took an involuntary step towards him, her fingers curling around the handle of her agiel. Rahl held up a staying hand, his expression amused. "Now, now Cara. You can't blame me for observing what's been tragically obvious for years to anyone with eyes in their head." He shook his head. "How strange, that the two of us should end like this, driven to the light by something as base and human as-"
"Enough," Cara interrupted sharply, but she didn't move to strike Rahl. She only closed her eyes and sighed, suddenly feeling tired. She opened her eyes to meet Rahl's. "I can scarcely believe I'm saying this, but I hope your devotion doesn't desert you, when you're with the Keeper."
"So do I," Rahl said softly, even as Cara turned to leave. "Do you think there's forgiveness somewhere, for us?" Rahl called after her, his tone curious.
Cara shrugged one more time, her back to Rahl. "Probably not," she said, and then she passed through the door.
*****
Two days later, they found Rahl's body in the middle of an intricate circle of mage marks and runes. He was dead, and neither Kahlan nor Cara was satisfied until they both watched his body burn.
23
The morning they left the keep, the air outside was crisp and sharp, smelling of crushed leaves and woodsmoke, and faintly of ash. The keep was practically abandoned, Rahl's servants dispersed and his prisoners freed. Cara had personally seen to the expulsion of the Mord'Sith days before, before Rahl died and whatever command he held over them died with him. She had warned them-facing their sullen faces, almost feeling the hardened lines of their bodies as they suppressed their instinctual desire to attack her-never to come north if they wanted to live. She realized her warning might simply drive them to meet her challenge, a result she was somewhat looking forward to. Several of them looked like they could almost match her, and after all her years of fighting, she had found few battles as exhilarating as those with other Mord'Sith.
She, Kahlan, and Erin stood in the middle of the Seer's Tower. Kahlan looked eager as she clutched one of the three gilt talismans Rahl had made, an amulet Cara had found characteristically tacky. Cara had to roll her eyes at the way Erin was practically bouncing with anticipation to return to the People's Palace. Strangely, Cara felt that she was the only one who wasn't ready to return. It was foolish, really; this whole quest had been about returning home. Perhaps her unease was because she had never really thought she would make it back alive.
Kahlan spoke the harsh, incomprehensible words of the incantation, and Cara suddenly felt as if someone had reached into her stomach, grabbed hold of her insides, and yanked. She closed her eyes, suppressing the sharp stab of nausea. When she opened her eyes, she was in Richard's chamber.
He was waiting for them. He sat at his desk, his face clean-shaven, a scroll clutched in his hand and clearly forgotten long ago. The moment they appeared, he rose from his chair, his eyes shining and his mouth parted as if he was going to speak. But he had no chance, because Erin was suddenly a blur, crossing the distance between them and flinging herself into Richard's arms. Richard sank down with Erin in his arms, and he knelt like that for a long moment, unspeaking. Cara watched them, feeling for a strange moment that Richard had never seemed so adult to her as he did at that moment.
After a long moment, Richard pulled away from Erin and looked her directly in the eyes. "Hello," he said softly, grinning that pure, clean grin of his.
"Hi," Erin whispered back. Richard looked up to meet Kahlan's gaze. He stood, his hand still holding Erin's, and Kahlan moved towards him so she could be folded up in Richard's arms.
"Hello to you too," Cara could hear him say into Kahlan's hair.
Kahlan laughed, a happy, choking sound, and pulled away. She searched Richard's open face, reaching up a hand and brushing her knuckles over his cheek. "We made it," she said simply, and Richard grinned bigger.
Then, before Cara could slip away, Richard looked her way. "Oh, get over here, Cara," he said, laughing. Cara sighed and rolled her eyes, but she filled the steps between them.
"My Lord-" she began stiffly, but found herself interrupted when Richard pulled her in for a crushing bear hug. She resisted the urge to squirm out of his grip, and even managed to give him a firm, perfunctory slap on the back.
"Thank you," she heard him whisper into her ear, and she swallowed hard when he finally pulled away.
"There's no need to get sentimental, Richard," Cara said.
Richard laughed again, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, Cara." He turned back to Kahlan and Erin, and seemingly unable to resist, he scooped Erin back up into his arms. She giggled as he began telling her about all the things they were going to do now that she was back. Kahlan watched the two of them, her eyes bright and her smile soft. Cara watched Kahlan for a moment; then, quietly, she slipped out the door.
*****
She found herself heading towards the stables, not really sure why. When she stepped into the building, she was immediately met by the almost overpowering smell of leather and hay and horses, mixed in with the far less pleasant scent of horseshit. Cara ignored the startled gazes of the hostlers and stableboys, instead making her way confidently towards the thoroughbreds and warhorses. She would need a new horse, if she was to make the trip back to the keep.
She stopped short the moment she reached the stalls, not quite sure whether she could trust her eyes. Standing there, placid as grazing cow, was her own horse.
"Son of a bitch," Cara murmured, before moving to place her hand on the side of her horse's face. Which was, of course, an idiotic thing to do; immediately the horse opened its mouth and proceeded to chomp down at her hand; only Cara's reflexes allowed her to snatch her hand back before she lost a few fingers. "I repeat-son of a bitch," Cara growled, scowling at the animal. The horse only snorted and resumed eating, and Cara couldn't prevent a wry smile.
Suddenly, she heard the soft tread of leather boots on hay, and heard a familiar voice say, "I thought I might find you here." Cara turned to see Adai, fully decked in her Mord'sith leather. A deep scar ran across her right cheekbone, and she seemed to be holding her right shoulder rather gingerly.
"Adai," Cara said, and only years of training kept her face from breaking its impassive front to reveal a grin that might rival Richard's.
"Mistress Cara," Adai said, dipping her head slightly. "I salvaged your horse, as you can see. The idiot beast had already wandered a half-mile by the time we returned. Almost took a finger off, too, when I first tried to harness him."
"He is a bit willful," Cara admitted. She eyed Adai, taking in the new scar, and trying to sound casual, she said, "I didn't know if you would make it."
Adai shrugged. "Not all of us did. We lost more than half of the company to that monster, but we killed it, eventually. It got in a lucky swipe-tore the ligament of my arm. It should heal eventually, though I only need one arm to wield an agiel."
"I know," Cara said dryly, remembering the bruises that usually accompanied a sparring match with Adai. "I am glad you rescued the horse," she continued, jerking her head its way. "He's an irritable monster, but he suits me, and I didn't particularly want to find another."
Adai nodded once; then her eyes narrowed as she took in Cara's soiled leather and unkempt hair. "They've set me up in a chamber in the northwest wing; I've been fighting against Gaiokos's forces since a few days ago. I stole some Findlish liquor from the larder."
Now Cara did smile, though she was sure to keep the expression within reason. "Give me fifteen minutes."
*****
Whatever its other faults, the People's Palace ran its bathhouses like a well-oiled military machine; in fifteen minutes, Cara was clean, redressed, and lounging in Adai's sparse chambers, a cup of Findlish liquor in her hand. She took another sip of the liquid, tasting delicate spices mixed with throat-scalding alcohol; Findlish liquor was renowned for its ability to intoxicate through smell alone. Adai sat across the table from Cara nursing her own drink.
They talked shop first. Cara offered Adai a brisk summary of all that had occurred since they parted. Adai seemed immensely satisfied to hear that Rahl was dead, and more than a little amused that he had died by his own hand, while devoted to the family he hated.
In turn, Cara demanded that Adai give details of the battles waged in the past few weeks. Adai had an almost poetic command over brutality, seeming to relish recounting the sound of each bone breaking and each enemy screaming. Her account made Cara repress a few sighs of envy.
"And I missed it all," Cara finally said with a disgusted snort, slamming her empty goblet down on the table with more violence than was necessary. "I'm the Lord Rahl's general, yet I missed an entire war. I wonder how that reputation Richard's always going on about will fare now."
"Surely you jest," Adai said, a wicked gleam entering her eyes, one Cara was not entirely comfortable with. "You went into the mysterious Old Kingdom, just you and the Mother Confessor, facing unknown evils in your quest to rescue the Lord Rahl's daughter. Not only did you bring her back-and these D'Haran commoners seem to have an unnatural attachment to our lord's daughter-but you killed Darken Rahl and were instrumental in defeating Gaiokos's forces. You're more a hero now than ever-I've even begun hearing a few folk songs about your exploits."
"You're kidding," Cara replied, her voice filled with horror.
"I never joke about folk songs," Adai answered flatly. Her lips twitched. "I'm afraid you must come to terms with it, mistress. We live in an age that glorifies heroes, and you're considered one of them, now."
Cara scowled, suddenly wishing there was a minstrel nearby she could pummel. "It's ridiculous," she muttered. "The fools will seize any chance to turn a simple battle into a tale of theatrics. You know, Kahlan told me they were thinking of erecting a monument to Lastings."
Adai shrugged. "And why shouldn't they? Tannic killed a distasteful number of people for no reason, at a time when the land was still recovering from war. He was a tyrant and would have killed many more; it's a good thing you killed him."
"And if they knew how I killed him?" Cara asked, meeting Adai's eyes.
"Who cares?" Adai said bluntly. "I would have done exactly what you did-I probably would have killed the children, too."
"I know," Cara said dryly. "So would I, years ago."
"And a few years ago, I would have said that was the right thing to do," Adai answered, reaching over to uncork the wine. She poured them each another glass. "But now I'm not sure. Not because I think it's wrong-I don't give an ass's droppings about traitors and their sniveling brats." She gave Cara a hard stare, as if daring her to make some comment about her weakness. Cara only took a sip of her drink, letting Adai continue speaking. "But serving our Lord Rahl has convinced me of something Darken Rahl never quite seemed to understand: fear doesn't always work. Fear makes people unhappy, and unhappy people rebel-it's how Lord Rahl was able to defeat Darken Rahl the first time. There's a time for fear, thankfully, and there are many, many times for pain. But I am willing to admit that other tactics are occasionally…useful."
"You sound like Dahlia," Cara said without thinking, her mind skipping back to a warm summer day during a lull in the campaign, when she and Dahlia had lain in bed for hours, occasionally finding the time to talk in between vigorous bouts of sex. Cara caught herself before she could get lost in the memory, casting a sharp glance Adai's way. But Adai only lifted an eyebrow, waiting, so Cara continued speaking. "Dahlia wasn't a Mord'Sith, but she would have made a good one. She was very…practical about what needed to be done, which I'm sure you knew. She appreciated the Mord'Sith-called us 'useful scourges in red leather packages.'" Cara smiled slightly at the memory, before shaking her head. "But she also said that the first Rahl was an idiot, because he made us too rigid. He was too intent on fear and pain that he didn't make us able to adapt. Pain is, of course, the best tactic, but it's still only one tactic."
"She wasn't completely right, you know," Adai pointed out, leaning back in her chair to eye Cara. "We did manage to change, or at least some of us did."
"Maybe," Cara said with a shrug. "But sometimes I wonder what she would have thought about…everything."
"Well, stop wondering," Adai snapped, and Cara's gaze shot up to meet Adai's. Any pretense that Adai was subservient to Cara-an assumption that had really only ever been on the surface-was by now gone, swept away by the many years (and the Findlish wine) that lay between them. Adai spoke bluntly. "Whatever their other faults, the Mord'Sith have always gotten one thing right: we don't do regret. And we certainly don't do guilt. I think Dahlia would agree with us on that." She stared at Cara intently. "The past is past, Cara. You can't change it. You can only move forward."
They sat in silence for a moment, Cara allowing Adai's words to echo in her head. Then, as if one, they realized how completely undignified for a Mord'Sith this whole mess had become. "This appears to be a particularly strong batch of wine," Cara offered.
"Indeed," Adai responded with a nod. "I feel the urge to clear my head. Would my mistress perhaps care to spar?"
To Cara at that moment, nothing in the world sounded better.
24
Cara spent the next few days assessing the status of the People's Palace and conferring east and south. She saw Richard and Kahlan during some of these sessions, but they were all busy putting their respective territories back in order.
Cara did find time, however, to continue sparring. And somehow, like a bloodhound trained to track Cara's scent alone, Erin found her. The first time Erin showed up on the training grounds, flanked by her nurse and her personal guard, Cara nearly groaned. Then she sighed and beckoned for Erin to come over.
They fell back into their rhythm. If any of the palace staff found the sight of Cara Mason-Mord'Sith, general of the South, scourge of D'Hara and the Midlands-training the rather diminutive heir to D'Hara on how to properly execute a sweep-and-stomp combination, they held their tongues.
Cara was pleased at how focused Erin was when Cara was teaching her, and thought that one day the girl might even make a decent fighter. Of course, the moment they stepped outside the training ground, it was nothing but questions, questions, questions pelted at Cara on every subject under the sun. Cara would grit her teeth, answer the ones worth answering, and respond, "Ask your mother," to all the others.
Despite Erin's seemingly full recovery, however, Cara couldn't help but notice occasional flashes of darkness in the girl. Like the time a large, dark-haired emissary from Aldrin thoughtlessly rammed into Erin as he was rushing through the halls. Erin immediately flinched back, her eyes filling with some old terror. Without knowing how it happened, Cara found herself grabbing the man by his tunic, throwing him across the room like a ragdoll, and holding him by the throat as she pressed her agiel against his bobbing adam's apple. The man's eyes were wild with pain and terror. Cara stepped back, letting him flee back to his quarters. No doubt he would make a fuss about that terrible Mord'Sith Richard insisted on keeping around, and Richard would have to do something particularly distasteful to soothe the Duchess of Aldrin's ruffled feathers.
Cara turned to face Erin, whose expression had returned to the bright, curious one she had held before the incident. "You didn't have to do that," she said sternly, as if she was scolding Cara.
Cara rolled her eyes. "I am aware of that, highness. Perhaps I merely wanted to teach that Aldrin fool some manners." She eyed Erin before cocking an eyebrow. "One day you'll be able to do that for yourself, you know."
At this, Erin looked immensely happy.
*****
The days passed as steadily as the drift of autumn's falling leaves, and there was only so much that needed Cara's attention at the People's Palace. Only a week after her arrival, she began to prepare to leave; she was needed down south. She did not publicize her departure. Adai had left days before to return to the Mord'Sith temple, and there was no one else Cara needed to inform other than Richard.
She was heading towards his chamber, her horse already saddled and her rucksack filled with supplies, when she passed by Erin's door. Four guards stood outside it, and they inclined their head to her slightly before resuming their stances of stoic disregard. Cara paused, studying the intricate carvings adorning the door. Her fingers twitched, and she lifted her hand to hover over the handle. Then she gave a single, vigorous shake of her head, ignoring the quizzical looks the guards were trying not to cast her. Even if the child cared, there was no point in making a scene; it would be better for her if Cara just disappeared.
Cara continued towards Richard's private rooms. She knocked once at his door, the massive, garishly engraved panels so thick the sound barely registered in the air, and then pushed her way in. The antechamber was empty, so Cara called Richard's name, feeling a surge of irritation at the thought that she might need to hunt for him through the palace. She made her way inside to the inner room, and then stopped just outside the inner chamber's entrance. Kahlan was sitting on one of the room's chairs, Richard kneeling in front of her, both his hands holding onto Kahlan's where they rested on her lap. Kahlan's back was slightly curved so she could rest her forehead against Richard's. They weren't speaking, and it was such a moment of intimacy that Cara immediately took a step backwards, feeling a sudden need to escape before they noticed her.
But Richard must have heard her movement, because he opened his eyes and looked Cara's way. "Cara," he said softly, rising to his feet. He still held Kahlan's hands, and he gave them a gentle squeeze before letting go. "I've been expecting you."
"My Lord?" Cara questioned, and Richard smiled.
"We've known you were planning to leave since you first started ordering the hostlers around. I may have been busy recently, but I still know what goes on around my own palace. You didn't think you could sneak away without saying goodbye, did you?"
"I had hoped," Cara answered wryly, and Richard's laughed.
"Come on-let's talk in the outer chamber," he said, nodding towards the door. Cara complied, moving a few feet more into the outer chamber. Richard followed, turning to close the door behind them. Kahlan still sat, her hands loose and palms open in her lap. Cara cast Kahlan a questioning glance, but Kahlan only offered a little half shrug, her reticence forcing a scowl out of Cara. Before Richard closed the door, Cara caught a last look that passed between them, but before she could interpret it, Richard had turned to face Cara, his expression clear. "So," he began, "you're heading back south?"
"I thought it would be best," Cara answered coolly. "There's nothing more I can do here, and I need to see just how much things have fallen apart in my absence."
Richard chuckled. "I suspect a lot, but Besdick and Amista seem to have done a fine job while you were gone."
Cara sniffed. "Perhaps. Though the last I heard, Amista had to threaten to garrote the leader of the iron guild before he would provide supplies for rebuilding."
Richard laughed again. "Sounds like something you would do."
"No," Cara retorted. "I would threaten to dip him in scalding water up to his chin, then make him hang from the battlements at the mercy of the sun and carrion birds."
"Mm," Richard responded, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. Then his expression became serious. "I know I've been busy these last few days, and we haven't had much chance to speak. So I haven't been able to properly thank you."
"I was only doing my duty, Richard," Cara answered, rolling her eyes.
Richard shook his head. "Don't do that, Cara-I know you too well." He took a deep breath. "I don't know that I've ever depended on anyone as much as I depend on you, and sometimes I…take that for granted." Cara shifted her feet, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. Richard held her gaze. "I knew if anyone could get her back, see Kahlan safely back too, it was you. I've owed you my life for a long time-you've saved it enough times." Cara snorted her agreement, and Richard smiled. "I think I may owe you more, now."
"Again, my Lord," Cara said through gritted teeth, "I only did my duty."
Richard sighed, looking very much the put-upon lord in that moment. "I know. You always have. You've done more for the realm than I ever envisioned. But I don't know if I always thought about what was best for you."
"Serving the Lord Rahl is best for me," Cara answered immediately, part of her wanted to box the idiocy out of Richard's ears, the other part wanting to escape the room as quickly as possible. "You shouldn't have regrets, Richard," Cara continued pointedly, recalling her conversation with Adai. "What's done is done."
"I know," Richard answered, something resigned in his voice. Then he took a step towards Cara, and for a moment, Cara thought he would give her another of his insufferable hugs. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Don't become a stranger, Cara," he whispered into her ear. "And don't forget where your home is." Cara swallowed, for once at a loss for words. Richard pulled back, and his soft, simple Richard-smile returned to his face. "Now go inside," he instructed, gesturing towards the inner chamber. "Kahlan's waiting."
Cara nodded, knowing her confusion was etched on her face. Richard only turned and headed towards the outer door, pushing it open and gently closing it behind him.
*****
Kahlan stood when Cara entered the room. She wore her white Confessor's robe, along with all the studied calm and unspoken power that always seemed to accompany it. The early morning light was slipping through the arched windows, giving Kahlan's robe the almost ethereal glow that so seemed to impress the commoners. Not for the first time, Cara wondered how she kept the cursed thing so clean.
"You're husband is acting strange," Cara began bluntly, scowling.
"Why do I think he might say the same of you?" Kahlan said, before her expression became more earnest. "So you're leaving?"
"Yes," Cara said. "It's time."
Kahlan nodded, her face unreadable. Then she took a step towards Cara and reached out to touch Cara's hand, the tips of her fingers warm against Cara's palm. Cara's jaw clenched as she tried her hardest to make herself pull away. But Kahlan was the sun just then, and when she leaned in, Cara leaned back, pulled and trapped in orbit. Kahlan pressed her lips to Cara's, the kiss soft and deep. Helplessly, Cara kissed her back, her fingers tightening around Kahlan's. Then she wrenched herself free.
"Enough," she said harshly, yanking her hand out of Kahlan's. "We can't do this anymore, not here. Not to Richard."
For a moment, Cara could swear the world had gone mad, because the look Kahlan was casting her was the same one Cara employed when she wanted someone else to wince at their own stupidity. "Cara, he knows."
"What?" Cara said, too stunned to do more than stare at Kahlan.
Kahlan, infuriatingly, looked like she was holding back a laugh. "Come on, Cara. Did you really think I would hide something like that from him? Did you think this thing between us was just a passing fancy?"
"Wouldn't that be best?" Cara retorted.
"For who?"
"For you and Richard!" Cara snapped, as if this answer was painfully obvious.
Kahlan shook her head, regarding Cara seriously. "This isn't some fling, Cara. You know that as well as I do."
"So what?" Cara said, a sneer entering her voice. "Did Richard grant you permission? You should know that the only time anyone will ever call me mistress is if I've beaten them into submission."
"I don't need permission from Richard for anything," Kahlan said, the words whipping out of her, her eyes flashing with a sudden anger. Then her expression became more amused as she lifted an eyebrow. "And I cannot imagine in what world anyone would even think to suggest an arrangement like that to you, for fear of losing a limb."
Cara released a little huff of agreement before shaking her head. "You can't seriously be suggesting we let this continue," Cara said. "You can't seriously be proposing you…what? Leave Richard for me?" The notion was so preposterous Cara could hardly voice the words, and her next words were laced with scorn. "Can you imagine the uproar? The end of the epic romance between the Seeker and the Mother Confessor? The end of any hope of further heirs to D'Hara?"
"There won't be any more heirs, Cara," Kahlan said quietly, and there was a deep sadness in her voice that confirmed everything Cara had already known. "I'll always care for Richard, but it's been some time since we've had that kind of love."
"So pretend!" Cara exclaimed, nearly throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Rulers have had sham marriages for the good of their realms for centuries."
"To what purpose?" Kahlan asked.
"To hold the realm together," Cara sputtered. "To give the people what they want."
"Since when have you cared what people think, Cara?" Kahlan asked, looking at Cara skeptically.
"I don't," Cara answered, glaring at Kahlan. "But you should-you're their rulers."
"And you’re their general," Kahlan pointed out. "Like it or not, you're as much a hero at this point as we are. You've earned their respect." Cara snorted derisively, but Kahlan kept talking, her tone wry. "The Midlands and D'Hara will not fall apart because Richard and I are no longer the stuff of sappy romance. I like to think our people are made of sterner stuff."
"Your people are idiots," Cara snapped back, before giving a violent shake of her head and beginning to pace the room. She drew a deep breath. "So what do you propose, in this grand plan of yours? Even if we tried-" Cara paused, smothering the almost painful stab of hope that shot through her in favor of making her voice hard, "-you're in Aydindril and I need to oversee the South. Look what happened last time you neglected your duties."
Kahlan managed to ignore Cara's jibe, though her jaw tightened as if she was biting back a particularly cutting retort. Then she sighed. "We'll manage. It won't be easy, but when have things ever been easy for us? And we have Rahl's amulets, now. We can use them to see each other often whenever we need to."
"Could you do that again?" Cara asked with uncharacteristic uncertainty as she began to think that maybe, just maybe, Kahlan meant it. "Isn't that what drove you and Richard apart?"
Kahlan shook her head. "It wasn't distance, Cara. We changed, that's all."
"And what if we change?" Cara asked, trying her hardest to make the words like stone.
"You already have," Kahlan said, holding Cara's gaze in her own. "So have I. It's how we ended up here. The past is important. I don't want either of us to forget it. All we are is our stories." Cara closed her eyes, knowing Kahlan was talking about Dahlia, but also about Lastings and war and all the days they spent never saying enough. She opened her eyes to meet Kahlan's. "But it's time for us to move forward."
"What about Erin?" Cara said suddenly, searching for an excuse like a drowning man clutching at driftwood.
"Erin adores you, Cara," Kahlan said, her eyes laughing. "And Richard's not going anywhere. She'll have me, and she'll have Richard, and I hope that sometimes she'll have you, too. After all, someone has to teach her how to beat up all the other children her age." Cara shook her head, her hands balling into fists. Kahlan frowned, her forehead crinkling with her concern as she stared at Cara. "Stop making excuses, Cara. What are you so afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything," Cara retorted.
"Liar," Kahlan whispered, her lips curling upwards. She took a step towards Cara, and Cara drew a deep breath. But this time, when Kahlan kissed her, Cara didn't pull away.
Cara's fists unclenched, her hands finally creeping up to rest on Kahlan's hips, as if they belonged there. They stood like that for a long moment, warm sun on their skin and a stillness to the air. Cara's mind wanted to reevaluate, to determine what this meant and how it could be possible and if she could finally, finally stop running. Her body primarily wanted her mind to shut up.
And, slowly, Cara felt herself let go. Days and years and loss and distance fell away, until there didn't seem to be much left at all. But there was still Kahlan, and the rest Cara could find easily enough, if she ever needed it again. She was, after all, quite resourceful.
They moved apart, no more than an inch, and Kahlan smiled, her whole face lighting up with the joy of it.
"Welcome home."
The End