LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Kill Some D'Harans and Then Love Me

merrykk

Title: Kill Some D’Harans and Then Love Me

Fandom: Legend of the Seeker

Rating: PG

Length: ~600

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Spoilers: 2x08 “Light”

Summary: Kahlan’s a different person when it’s just her and Cara.

Notes: For linguology , who prompted “warriors”.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Kill Some D'Harans and Then Love Me

merrykk

No one’s ever treated Kahlan like a warrior before. They look at her and they see a Confessor–at best they see the woman who plays that role. But with Richard and Zedd gone, Kahlan feels a difference in her attitude that isn’t from missing them. A new strength urges her on her journey, and it takes her too long to figure out that the source is Cara’s gaze.

Kahlan is peeved just for a moment upon figuring out that Cara doesn’t fear her or hold her in awe, and instead just looks at her as if they’re the same. It feels like mockery to Kahlan, a purposeful disregard of the usual respect given to Confessors, and Cara’s unreadability does not help the impression. Yet the way Cara’s eyebrows rise nonchalantly after they’ve decimated another D’Haran task force makes her reconsider.

It’s not an exaggerated show. Cara just doesn’t put Kahlan on any kind of pedestal. Or if she does, she’s standing there right alongside her.

“I was going to clean my leather tonight before supper,” Cara informs Kahlan as they set up camp. There’s only one bottle of the cleaner that now both women have to share.

“That’s fine,” Kahlan says, setting her pack on a rock. “I’ll sharpen my daggers, keep you company.”

Cara’s disbelieving eyes are piercing even from across the small campsite.

Kahlan smirks a little. “Do you need your alone time with the leather, Cara?”

“No,” Cara responds as if it was a stupid question. She purses her lips and takes the cleaner from her pack, snorting slightly through her nose.

“Good,” Kahlan says brightly, and pulls the daggers from her boots. Cara is protesting, of course, but it’s to the any–company–at–all part and not the warrior bonding. Kahlan doesn’t need the benefit of magic to see that. That makes this new for them both.

The next day, they don’t face any challenge greater than hunting down a meal. The one after that, though, they’re fighting again. It’s a tired routine by now, and Kahlan wonders if the D’Harans will ever realize how pathetic they really are. But in the moment, all she feels is a rush to reach for her daggers, pulling them at the same time as Cara draws her agiels, and they run forward with battle cries.

They finish the few soldiers without breaking a sweat, and Kahlan cleans her knives by the fire.

“You’re one of the few warriors I’ve seen who can fight with such an intimate style,” Cara says without looking up from her agiels, but the pleased shape of her mouth just visible. She doesn’t say that they have two different goals–one needing a closeness for confession, the other for pain–because it isn’t the relevant point.

Kahlan raises her eyes, feels a small smile cross her lips without her conscious thought. “Oh?”

“It’s not like the agiels,” Cara qualifies with a slight eyebrow raise and a tip of her head. “But it’s talent.”

This time, Kahlan’s had enough practice, and can tell by the specific curve of Cara’s lip that it’s no mockery. She almost ducks her head, holding in a smile that she can’t help but want to show. The way Cara looks at her (or doesn’t, in this case) makes adrenaline spike, makes her heart flutter away at her chest, makes this different feeling a good one.

She tells herself it’s because being considered a fellow warrior is satisfying. Maybe, just a little, it’s because earning Cara’s respect is very welcome, even if she wasn’t trying for it. Kahlan doesn’t stop to compare the fluttering to how she feels looking at Richard…but after all, it’s taken time to learn how to read Cara, it’ll take longer to learn how to read herself.

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