LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

I’ll Be Here When the Dust Has Cleared

merrykk

Title: I’ll Be Here When the Dust Has Cleared

Fandom: Legend of the Seeker

Characters: Cara/Kahlan, Dennee

Rating: PG

Length: ~3800

Spoilers: post–2x19 “Extinction”

Summary: Kahlan has to make them both see that this is love.

Notes: For arabrab47, who gave the prompt “act of contrition”. Thank you for your generous donation!

I’ll Be Here When the Dust Has Cleared

merrykk

Sometimes, if Dennee kept her eyes tightly shut, she could feel golden locks falling about her face. She thought she’d gotten used to this body, to the coarse hair that frizzed into a dark storm whenever the weather was bad—then she had come, and Dennee realized that things like your own death didn’t just melt away. She knew that if she went down to the prison in Aydindril, she would lose her control. And with Kahlan on the way, she couldn’t.

The streak of white that came over the horizon barely a week after Dennee had sent her message was a surprise, if only for the haste. When Kahlan and her horse galloped into the couryard, both ruffled by the frantic pace of an urgent journey, Dennee frowned as she approached her sister.

“She has not…?” Kahlan asked, breathless, slipping from her horse too fast for ease.

Dennee shook her head, and the relief in Kahlan’s face translated to the kiss to her sister’s cheek. “I knew you,” Dennee explained, trying not to sound unsure and bitter.

“We’ve been worried sick,” Kahlan admitted as they walked into the city, brushing back the stray strands of sweat–damp hair from her brow.

Dennee swallowed once the high doors closed behind them, turning to look at her sister, her heart a knot. “Kahlan, why did she make such a request, and how can I possibly read in her that you would not want it?”

* * * * *

”Wait!” Dennee ordered, standing from her throne.

The red–clad warrior crossed the hall after a sharp glance to the Home Guard. Unlike the last time Dennee had seen her, she was wearing the Mord’Sith braid. Shorter, but it did all it was meant to do with sharpening the lines of her face. “I will only speak to you alone,” she said, in a low voice that had tremors of power and control.

Dennee swallowed the bile that rose immediately to her throat. She couldn’t let rage lead her to break her vows, one of which had been to Kahlan about not killing this woman who had shown regret. An unspoken promise, perhaps, but no less bonding for the sisters. And she did not fear this Cara. “Leave us,” she ordered.

After the murmurs of protest faded away at the sight of Dennee’s eyes, hard as they held Cara’s green ones in a line of fire, the hall emptied. The two woman stood, spines straight, lips pressed together.

And then Cara spoke—”You must confess me.”

* * * * *

“It was a village we passed through,” Kahlan said quietly, a darkness in her eyes. “One of the mothers recognized Cara as the Mord’Sith who took both her daughters. I tried to explain, Cara even attempted to apologize, but it all came out wrong. They would not give us shelter, and that night Cara told me what had happened to the daughters. Sometimes, I—”

Dennee could see a swelling of tears in Kahlan’s eyes, and knew with only a sister’s intuition what Kahlan left unsaid. That her heart broke for Cara. Dennee could only cling to the hope that it was not based on false assumptions, even though she felt how weak a creature such a hope was.

“She disappeared that night, but I thought it would be for a simple hunting trip, for catharsis.” Kahlan’s hands clenched. “I don’t understand.”

* * * * *

Dennee stepped forward, feeling her face tighten as she looked closer at the Mord’Sith. The woman stood, arms stiff at her side and shoulders back, determination like a flush across her face. Circling her, Dennee sensed the itch of tension, but it twisted in a web with no loose end to be grasped.

“A Confessor is not yours to command,” she pointed out to break the silence.

“You know I deserve it,” Cara said in a low, almost taunting, voice. “Should it make a difference if I ask for it?”

Dennee frowned while looking at her. With her human eyes she saw the woman whose vicious advance had driven her to kill her own child. But it was the Confessor that saw more keenly. What lay behind Cara’s eyes had Dennee standing stunned even as she tried not to show it.

She could read Cara. That shouldn’t have been possible.

* * * * *

Dennee stood at a distance when Kahlan was brought to the cell. She swallowed to watch her sister kneel on the dusty floor, rest her hands on the cell bars. The Mord’Sith crouched in the corner of the cell, away from the provided bed with her back to the door; brooding, not defensive.

“Cara.” Kahlan’s voice was like a cloud.

Cara whipped her head around, damp hair swinging. “You sent for her?” she shot at Dennee.

But Dennee chose not to speak, arms crossed over her chest and fingertips digging into her forearms as she just watched.

“What are you trying to do, Cara?” Kahlan demanded under her breath.

Long seconds passed while the guards fidgeted, while Kahlan waited patiently, while Cara twitched as if ready (yet again) to lash out. Dennee bit her lip, feeling the wrongness of everything. Then, finally—

“You don’t understand,” the imprisoned woman answered Kahlan, voice trembling with an emotion that could be frustration—or rage—or despair, “what it’s like to suffer your denial. Your tolerance. It is only worthless, but you will not end it, so I chose the courageous path for us both.” The last words came out cutting.

Dennee watched Kahlan’s back straighten as if a ramrod had been placed along her spine, and could almost see her knuckles whiten around the bar of the cell. She rose, and walked past Dennee without a look back. “Do not grant her request, and do not let her out of the cell,” she ordered in a near–whisper. Her eyes glistened, though, and in the brief moment that they met Dennee’s, she realized all that Cara had not said.

* * * * *

She didn’t know what to say. The bitter self–hatred that boiled in this woman’s soul, the sorrow and regret that seemed to want to scream their existence out to the world, all of it hit Dennee like a wave front—and she hadn’t even confessed Cara yet.

“Why won’t you do it? You didn’t hesitate on our last meeting.”

“You were not my sister’s companion in my eyes,” Dennee said, keeping it cold to mask her confusion. She wouldn’t reveal that Kahlan’s letter, telling of the progress of their quest, had contained half a dozen references to Cara that were none of them cautious or concerned. It had eaten at Dennee’s heart before she forced it to soothe.

“I have killed hundreds of innocent people!” Cara wheeled around to meet Dennee’s watch with eyes that could not quite hide the desperation. “Is it not your duty to put an end to the misery I can cause the world?”

“Why didn’t my sister send you here, then?” Dennee murmured.

“She could not do so without Richard’s objection,” Cara answered swiftly.

But like a shock, Dennee could feel the lie creeping slowly through Cara’s mind. She clenched her jaw as something more potent than regret hit her in Cara’s eyes, and she didn’t want to believe it. Almost, she confessed Cara so she wouldn’t have time to recognize it.

“Confess me,” Cara ordered in a barely audible voice, eyes like glowing coals just moments away from extinguishing. “I deserve it.”

* * * * *

Kahlan didn’t speak at supper that evening, nor did she eat. After a comment on the fine table her voice fell, her eyes so distant that they might not even see the clean white cloth before her, topped with bright candles. And with that background and her cleansing from her travels, the flush of hurry was gone from Kahlan’s cheeks and the paleness struck her sister.

“Then I was right, you truly care for this woman,” Dennee said softly after a long silence.

“Cara?” Kahlan asked with a tremble, looking up from the place where she’d been staring a hole through the table. She swallowed, as if to clear her throat. “Of course I do.”

“Of course you do,” Dennee said in an emotionless tone, pushing her plate slightly back.

“Oh—” Kahlan answered, sitting up quickly. “Little sister, I didn’t—”

Dennee shook her head and managed a smile, more than she felt. “Don’t try to hide anything from me, sister. If you have any kindness at all, you will help me understand why.”

Kahlan chewed at her lower lip for a long minute. Then, eyes flooded with emotion, she whispered, “I don’t know if I can right now.”

Dennee bowed her head, her folded hands clenching in her lap. Her heart, feeling stretched to breaking by all the chaos of this last week, only went tighter. She wanted to believe that this could not have been harder had she merely died yet again. It might even have been easier if Kahlan and she had never been reunited.

Kahlan left the table with one of the Home Guard after another minute, and Dennee knew she was returning to the prison cell. No longer could the still–warm food call to Dennee, as the fear gripped her mind that she knew exactly what was going on and yet couldn’t tell herself.

* * * * *

”I can’t do anything with you without knowing what my sister thinks,” Dennee said finally, refusing to focus on the situation with only her own mind.

But before she could say a word to call back her people, Cara was at her throat with a snarl, the agility of the warrior on full display.

Dennee shoved back automatically, adrenaline like a fire burst alight in her.

“Defend yourself,” Cara growled, a screaming agiel in her hand as she struck towards Dennee.

She did. But the more Cara hissed in frustration, the more Dennee’s hands struck the Mord’Sith with blows instead of reaching for her throat. In the heat of the moment, fists flying, Dennee couldn’t quite answer why.

Until finally Cara stumbled, and Dennee threw her to the ground by her throat, breathing heavily. They met each other’s eyes again, and Dennee knew with a sick feeling that Cara hadn’t even been fighting her hardest. “I’m not doing anything,” she said under her breath, holding the other woman still but refusing freedom to the power of her touch.

She watched something fall apart in Cara, only for a moment, before she thrashed and tried to fight back. When the guards came and dragged her off to prison, she was spitting insults with the vitriol of any Mord’Sith. But Dennee stood, chest heaving, and hated that there was something different here. She wanted it to feel like acid, but it wouldn’t even be that.

Kahlan. She would have to send for Kahlan.

* * * * *

“My lady, what is going on?” asked her captain, as Dennee stood motionless by the fire as the night began to wear away. “Why has the Mord’Sith not been executed?”

“It is not my call,” Dennee said. The heat reddened her cheeks, but she relished in the almost–pain that matched the beat of her heart.

Yet when her captain left the hall of Aydindril heavy in silence once again, Dennee couldn’t stop the urge to know everything. Soft on her feet, she walked alone down the long spiral to the prisons. Her skirts lifted to keep from rustling against the stone, no one acknowledged her presence in the shadows.

Cara sat in the cell, back to the end of the low bed and knees partly drawn to her chest. Even from a distance, Dennee could see the mask of emotionlessness over her face. Kahlan sat opposite, sideways to the bars with her head leaned against them, arms loosely resting in her lap. Her eyes were shut, and her face was tight.

“Richard would not say anything if it was your sister who confessed me,” Cara said, a low tone that rippled just to where Dennee could hear.

“What Richard thought would not matter to me, even if that were true,” Kahlan answered sharply, not opening her eyes.

“Everything he says matters to you,” Cara retorted without emphasis.

Kahlan didn’t answer for a moment, and Dennee kept her breathing steady as she stood, watching from the dark. “I had your throat in my hand once,” Kahlan murmured at last, and Dennee’s heart skipped a beat at the surprise. “Your death was called for, justified by law. I set aside law of my own free will. What have you possibly done since that could make me think worse of that decision?”

“Was it of your own free will?” Cara’s voice came out, small but potent.

With a jerk, Kahlan looked hard into the cell. “Cara, you are an idiot!”

The Mord’Sith rose to her feet with a sudden glare that Dennee could almost feel. Then Kahlan was standing as well, the two women facing each other with palpable anger.

“You cannot possibly understand what I see in your actions,” Cara said venomously.

“Neither can you,” Kahlan shot back. “And your denial will kill me, Cara, more certainly than any blade.”

Cara turned her back on Kahlan in frustration, not answering.

“Is it so hard to accept that we care about you?” Kahlan demanded. When Cara didn’t move or speak, she slammed her hand against the bars. “You can’t declare an end like this, not if your argument is founded on untruth. You know me—I can’t allow it.”

“Then see the truth,” Cara grated out.

“I do. Never more clearly than right now. I am not afraid of you breaking if it means you realize it.”

The Mord’Sith took a seat again, tight and walled off.

Kahlan’s head fell with a torn sigh that Dennee could hear. She lowered herself once more, leaned her head against the cell, and murmured, “If that’s what it takes, I’m not leaving until you break.”

Dennee didn’t know what she had expected, something like this or something more extreme. Simply the weight of it, the intensity, imprinted deeper than any imagining of the scenario. Her heart throbbed with conflict and she wanted to step in to whisk Kahlan away to some place more soothing. But she saw the strong will in her sister, and knew that this was the calmest she could be right now. Biting back her own emotional history, Dennee left.

* * * * *

”If you do not confess me, I will kill you,” the woman said, eyes dark like the night she had been trained to serve, as she stood behind bars.

“Why do you lie?” Dennee asked, the inexplicable truth shaking all her foundations.

Cara would not speak for her, and the reasons for it were forcibly squashed down behind mental barriers. Dennee didn’t have the fortitude to search them out, nor discover how they could possibly be as selfless as they seemed.

* * * * *

“You are sure of all this?” Dennee could not help but ask, stroking her sister’s hair as she stood stock–still by the window.

“I’ve thought through my request,” Kahlan answered with a small nod, the bright light of day showing the lean, washed–out look that stress had given her over another day of Cara’s stubbornness. “Dennee, she is as close to me as family, and I must make her see before she destroys the both of us.”

“I think I understand,” Dennee said softly back. Her heart had stopped breaking at the idea, the struggle between the two women somehow representing Dennee’s own fears. Now, she could do no more than wish Kahlan success.

The Mother Confessor reached for Dennee’s hand to press it warmly, and Dennee smiled softly to clasp it back. “Come then,” she said, and she had prepared enough to keep her tone firm.

They walked side by side down to the prison, and with a nod to the two men at guard, Dennee took her place just outside the cell door. Cara didn’t look towards them as Kahlan was given the key, turned the lock, and stepped inside and left the door open.

“Cara, you need to face this,” she said, placing her hand on the woman’s shoulder where she sat.

The Mord’Sith flinched, pulling herself up. A guard looked to Dennee, but she kept her gaze on the women within the cell, trusting Kahlan.

“Look at me,” Kahlan ordered, reaching for Cara’s arm.

Before she grabbed it, Cara had jammed her elbow back towards Kahlan. “Don’t touch me!” she hissed, drawing up her arm as if to strike.

Kahlan didn’t answer, stepping in closer. Cara made as if to strike, and Kahlan put up her arm to block it, pushing in until Cara was forced to make a move. Only Dennee’s iron gaze kept the guards from moving in as Cara kneed Kahlan as if she’d been attacked, trying to spin away. Kahlan stepped behind her before she could manage it, wrapping her arms around Cara from behind to pin them at her sides.

“Cara, stop it,” she said through clenched teeth, muscles flexed to their limit to hold the smaller woman still.

“I do not have to take these lies,” Cara spat. “I will not accept your denial any more than your pity.”

“Good,” Kahlan said, still clasping the woman in her arms in a fierce grip, both their breathing coming fast. “Because you’re right, Cara.”

For a moment the Mord’Sith just stood rigid, eyes straight in front of her. Dennee, still standing outside the cell, couldn’t read her for all the turmoil like an aura around her very body.

“I am not here, trying to save your life, because I care for you as a friend,” Kahlan said, face turned so that her voice went straight into Cara’s ear—but still loud enough for all to hear. The other woman shut her eyes, lips pressed together until the blood left them. Kahlan spoke again after she’d caught her breath, “I’m here because I love you.”

The choking sound that escaped Cara’s throat made Dennee’s heart flip over.

“I love you, Cara,” Kahlan said, voice almost dropped to a whisper. “And if there is any denial you sensed, it was because I did not think to say it.”

Cara jerked as if trying to break Kahlan’s grasp. Kahlan wrapped her arms tighter, gripping the woman too close for distance. “No,” Cara whispered.

“Hear it, Cara,” Kahlan said, each word crisp. “And stop this insanity of thinking you neither have nor deserve a life worth loving.”

Dennee didn’t blink as she stood, watched her sister reveal her heart, bring truth to the open so clearly that it was like a sharp ray of light. She watched as Cara, who once bore simply a presence that invited distrust, could only stand a few seconds before her knees buckled, breath coming out in uneven gasps. As Kahlan sunk to her knees, cradling the woman whose defenses were shattered by the truth she had refused to see, a lump rose in Dennee’s throat and she couldn’t look away.

A raspy sob shook Cara, and the tension faded from Kahlan’s face as she pressed her cheek against the blonde head in her arms. Cara reached for Kahlan’s arm, clutching it as if it was a lifeline with tightly shut eyes.

“I love you, Cara,” Kahlan whispered as she sat, holding the other woman tangled in her arms on the floor of a cell that was no longer needed.

Cara didn’t speak—just breathed, not moving from Kahlan’s arms. Dennee nodded to the guards at last to dismiss them, and she swallowed once, then realized that it was all that was necessary. Cara wasn’t the only one to reluctantly accept the truth today. With no concern or distrust, only sisterly love and support again, Dennee walked away with a free heart.

* * * * *

Dennee slept alone and deeply that night, after informing her people that whatever Kahlan asked be given to Cara should be granted. The next morning, she was not surprised to see Cara sitting by Kahlan’s side at the breakfast table, both of them eating with a steady purpose.

“It is a good day today,” Dennee said, noting the sun coming through the window.

Kahlan looked up, face breaking into a soft smile. “It is.”

Cara didn’t look up, but Dennee saw her eyes stray to Kahlan’s for a moment, the ease on her face not broken.

“I think we’re ready to depart today,” Kahlan said after another minute. “I assume—” she glanced at Cara.

“I do not know what they did with my horse,” the woman finally said, almost muttering.

Dennee pursed her lips to keep from being amused at the change. “The beast is in the stables, of course. He can be saddled along with my sister’s at your earliest convenience.”

“Then after breakfast,” Kahlan said with a nod. “I am sorry, dear sister, but the quest still calls.”

“Think nothing of it,” Dennee said, and when Kahlan’s smile rose to her eyes, she knew they both understood that she meant it this time.

An hour later, standing in the courtyard with freshly groomed horses, Dennee watched as Kahlan spoke softly to her horse. Cara stepped up next to Dennee, turning her eyes up to her. “I am sorry for attacking you in your hall.”

Dennee paused for a moment as she felt the weight of not only this apology, but the last one as well. Her answer needed careful choosing. She glanced to Kahlan for a second, reminding herself how free her sister looked now, and then returned her glance to Cara. “You are forgiven,” she said straightly.

Cara’s head dipped for a second, turning to look straight ahead even though her words were still directed at Dennee. “You could read that I loved her,” she said under her breath.

Dennee breathed out. “I didn’t want to,” she admitted. “But she was so clear in your mind, I could even read her love for you.”

Cara tucked her head further, and made a small noise at the back of her throat. “I was foolish,” she muttered.

“I understand,” Dennee responded in a low voice.

Kahlan turned from her horse at last, smiling to Dennee before coming to embrace her, kiss her cheek. Dennee clasped her sister close, shutting her eyes so that she might remember the feel of her like this—at peace with life and love alike. With a nod and a smile she finished their departure.

She watched, arms loosely folded, as Kahlan and Cara mounted their horses. She saw Kahlan glance back at the smaller woman with a quick smile, saw an easy smirk cross Cara’s face for the first time, and watched as they spurred their way out the gate and down the road leading away from Aydindril.

Dennee would be forced, but not reluctantly, to add another name to the list of family in her prayers to the Creator that night.

~ ~ ~