LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Royal Disposition

Kristina K

(so_wicked)

Title: Royal Disposition

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Rating: PG-13

Summary: “It’s a process, Confessor.” Cara got up from her seat. She didn’t bother to fix her dress or smooth the skirt of it in place. “We can’t all have a royal disposition.”

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters. No infringement intended.

Royal Disposition

Kristina K

“You’ve made yourself at home.” Kahlan smiled at the sight of Cara; dressed in lace, frills and jewels, her hair made up perfectly and topped with a tiara. However, she decided she’s had enough of the dainty shoes and put boots on, a pair confiscated from a guard she cut down earlier and, lucky enough for her, they were just her size. She hiked the skirt of her pink dress up to her thighs, lifted up her feet atop the massive dining room table and rocked back in her chair like a brute. She had a skewer with venison meat and vegetables in one and a silver goblet filled with red wine in her other hand. She was a sight of pure debauchery if Kahlan ever saw one.

“It would be a shame to waste all this food and the Margrave’s hospitality, don’t you think?” Cara licked the grease off her lips. “It would be quite rude, actually.”

“Yes, you are the one who always thinks about her manners.” Kahlan nodded at Cara to emphasize her point. Mord’Sith threw the skewer on the tray before her, took a big gulp wine and then wiped her hands against the bodice of her dress. Kahlan rolled her eyes at her.

“It’s a process, Confessor.” Cara got up from her seat. She didn’t bother to fix her dress or smooth the skirt of it in place. “We can’t all have a royal disposition.”

Kahlan put her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Cara like a mother would at a disobedient child. “We could at least try.”

“Some other time, then.” Cara smiled, walked up closer and then circled around Kahlan. “Where are Zedd and Richard?”

“Down at the dungeons, questioning the two Sisters of the Dark who survived the pointy end of our swords.”

Cara walked around Kahlan, giving her a careful inspection. “Yes, we took care of that pretty nicely, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” Kahlan followed Cara as she moved around her and then frowned, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out the fastest way to take this damn outfit off of you.”

“What?”

Cara made a face, “Ah come on. It’s no time to act coy.” She fingered the lacing at the front of Kahlan’s dress only to get her hand slapped away. “Richard’s away. Zedd’s busy, too. Your power is useless in here…” she winked.

“Cara, you’re drunk.” Kahlan realized and started backing away, but didn’t get far. Cara had her pinned against the edge of the table in a moment.

“Sober, drunk…” Cara waved her hand noncommittally, “What’s the difference? I always wanted to properly bed a Confessor. Or, well, dining room table her,” she smiled at her own witty remark. “Blame it on the Shadrin liver I had earlier and never got to put in use.”

Kahlan scrunched up her nose, “Shadrin liver?”

“Raw.” Cara leaned into her. “You should try it sometime.”

“Regardless, it’s a bad idea.” Kahlan put a hand on Cara’s chest and tried to push her way.

“I myself think it’s a splendid idea.” Cara covered Kahlan’s hand with her own and moved it so it rested against her left breast. Kahlan tightened her jaw. “You see, I’m tired of the leaves and nettles and the annoying little rocks digging into my back from under the blanket. And I have a few wonderful experiences with big, polished oak tables. Not as comfortable as the royal bed, I’m sure, but it’ll do.”

Kahlan protested meekly, but she knew Cara wasn’t buying any of it. At least she tried to put on an image of finding the idea distasteful long enough for her not to come off as eager. She may be a Confessor, but—

Oh well, to the Keeper with that.

The cutlery clattered to the floor, the plates broke loudly into peaces against the tiles; wine spilled, meat and gravy plopped off the table in messy puddles. Kahlan grabbed onto the laces of her bodice while Cara lifted her up on the table and then slid her higher. She climbed onto the table herself, hovering over the Confessor with a self satisfied grin.

“If Richard finds us—” Kahlan gave her a warning squint.

“I’ll tell him it was all my idea. Now hurry with these before I cut the laces myself.”

She couldn’t tell which was worse, the Mord’Sith leather or the dress Cara wore. Neither was made for an easy access. Kahlan pawed at the frilly skirt, pulling it up Cara’s legs in search of warm skin. Just when she wanted to growl in frustration, her fingers found Cara’s thighs.

Cara didn’t waste any time but busied herself with licking her way down Kahlan’s cleavage, trailing with her lips as low as the bodice would allow. Her teeth bit down, and then warm tongue smoothed the bite, every inch of the way down.

“You look ridiculous in this dress, have I told you that?” Kahlan panted.

“Shut up and do your part!”

“I’m trying, but your petticoat is impossible!”

Cara growled detaching herself from Kahlan’s breasts. She grabbed for a butcher knife sticking from a roast up further on the table and slashed at her dress to cut it open.

“That’s a bit drastic.” Nevertheless, Kahlan helped her rip open the shift.

“There.” Cara straddled her and disposed of the knife. “Better?”

Kahlan smiled and, without a word, pulled Cara on top of her.

The end