LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Bitter Moon

lule_bell

For phoenix_cry, lots_femslash Secret Santa

Title: Bitter Moon

Author: lule_bell

Pairing: Kahlan/Cara

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Bitter Moon

lule_bell

It’s the night you notice she’s left camp and think it would be good to put those new tracking skills to good use.

It’s the night that she leads you to the river and you notice her white dress hung neatly over a tree branch; it almost glows in the moon light.

It’s the night you stand and watch her: she doesn't stray too far from shore, it’s dark and she’s largely unprotected, so that makes sense to you. She has her back to you and you wonder… of course, you’ve seen versions of her before, when you were still a Sister of the Agiel, but still, you wonder…

It’s the moon light reflecting off her bare shoulder blades, her black locks cascading down her back into the dark, cold water. You wonder if she’s shivering and if you could possibly keep her warm…

It’s the sound of the branch snapping under your feet that catches her attention. She turns suddenly and you wonder if she’s too far from shore to see you. She looks right at you, right into your eyes and you decide that she isn’t. She says nothing; she turns her back to you again and continues her bath.

It’s the sudden sweeping of thoughts pushing between your ears: maybe she didn’t see me after all… maybe she doesn't care that I’m here… maybe she’s inviting me to follow….

It’s the sound of her voice carried on the wind; you don’t acknowledge your name right away, the debate is still raging inside your head. Her voice grows louder until it’s silenced by the river’s water. That catches your attention and suddenly you’re at the shoreline, hoping she’s alright.

It’s the relief you feel, seeing her head bob out of the water further into the river. She calls to you again and this time, you’re unable to resist her. Your hands pull at your zipper and soon red leather joins the white dress on the tree branch.

It’s the feeling of the wind on your back and the water rising up your body; the water isn’t as cold as you expect it to be. You wade up to her slowly and it’s at that point that you realize she’s stopped moving: she’s waiting for you, feeling the ripples moving around her, gaging how far away you are.

It’s the uncertainty you feel when you finally move up behind her and she does and says nothing and you wonder suddenly if she’s expecting you to just know.

It’s the uncertainty you hear in her voice that some how brings you some comfort: “I was wondering how long you would make me wait.”

It’s the shock you feel and suddenly she’s not the distant, guarded, affection-afraid Mother Confessor that she was before you entered the river. All you can think of is: emotional vacancy…

It’s the memories you have of bathing with your other sisters, of finally being released from your dungeon-cave and allowed to bathe in the hot pools, the feelings of acceptance and affection when one offered to wash your hair. You have the sudden urge to pick up one of her locks and….

It’s the booming in your chest when she does it first, after she turns to face you and strokes your cheek, toying your hair between her fingers. You swallow and hope she can’t hear your throat clicking. She strokes your face and your eyes well with tears: your mother used to do the same thing to you… long… long ago….

It’s the warmth you feel as she kisses your cheek, her breath on your check, her lips caressing your skin, slowly moving across your face to your mouth. You kiss her back tentatively, as if you’ve never kissed anyone before and suddenly, you’re hungry for her, for her tenderness, for her warmth, for the heat that she’s instilling inside of you.

It’s when the kiss breaks and she’s looking right into your eyes and it almost hurts because she’s looking so deep and you’re certain she can see right into your soul.

It’s the clouds obstructing the moon and you realize that you’ve been in the river for a long time now; soon, Richard and Zedd will come looking for them, fearing the worst. She reads your thoughts and takes your hand in hers under the water. Slowly, she leads you to the shore, never breaking the link with you.

It’s the sound of silence as you walk back to camp, hand in hand. You can feel her strength, her determination, her spirit, invigorating your own. It’s enough… it’s enough to make you smile, slightly, stroking her thumb in return. She squeezes your hand and steps past you when you reach the camp. You hear her greet Richard and Zedd offers her some dinner that he saved.

It’s the sound you hear: they beckon you to come! Come and eat with us!

It’s a strange feeling creeping up into your chest… acceptance… gratitude… something you can’t quite put your finger on… something that maybe, doesn't matter right now.

It’s a nice dinner of roasted rabbit.

It’s you’re favourite.

~ ~ ~