LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

The Cottage

ministress

Title: The Cottage

Author: ministress

Rating: NC–17 / M

Word count: 4368

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Spoilers: none

Summary: After a day of awkwardness, Kahlan and Cara spend an interesting night in an inventor’s cottage.

“Warm and safe, she slid her fingers down to brush away all traces of Kahlan’s effect on her, and was startled to find out just how much that effect still remained.”

Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker characters are owned by Terry Goodkind and ABC. No copyright infringement is intended. It’s just fiction.

The Cottage

ministress

Cara looked over at Kahlan just in time to see her slump to the ground in a haze of greenish fog. “Don’t worry… she’ll wake up in a few hours,” a scruffy boy said. “That’s how they got all of us.” They had come across a band of traveling slavers with a wagon full of prisoners, and as they were fighting, Kahlan got caught off guard by a thrown potion.

“Great. We were in a hurry, too.” Cara unlocked the wagon door and released the captives, who fled back toward their villages. They seemed more afraid of the Mord–Sith than the slavers, a fact that gave Cara just a little satisfaction that she could instill that much fear in people even though she wasn’t a Sister anymore.

Walking over to check on the unconscious woman on the ground, Cara shook her head to herself and grimaced, wondering how long it would be before she awoke. There was an extra horse, so she packed it with some weapons from the dead thugs and supplies from the wagon, knowing they could fetch a decent price in the next village when they met up with Zedd and Richard in two days. The remaining potions she wrapped to give to Zedd, aware that he could probably find some use for them. They needed to get over the next mountain range before dark, and Kahlan had not yet shown the faintest signs of stirring. She sighed and picked up the Confessor, hoisting the limp body over her shoulder and clambering onto her horse. Even though she was strong, it was no easy task. Finally, she managed to seat Kahlan in front of her, and they left, the other two horses in tow.

* * * * *

A while later, Kahlan woke up to find herself on a horse backwards, with Cara’s arm holding her upright. She was slumped over Cara’s shoulder, and although that was awkward, the gentle swaying of the horse kept her calm as she got her bearings. Her head was pounding, and she remembered an acrid mist burning her eyes just before she lost consciousness. After that… she blinked several times as she struggled to recall how she got here and where they might be going. She closed her eyes again, the odd musky scent of Cara’s hair filling her nostrils.

“Welcome back.” Cara made no effort to stop the horse, and Kahlan’s lids flew open. She was only slightly mortified that the other woman knew she was awake and smelling her hair, and even more mortified to discover her arms and legs were wrapped around Cara and it didn’t feel wrong.

“Put me down!” she ordered, pushing herself away in a vain attempt to disguise her emotion, but the crimson blush refused to fade.

The Mord–Sith obliged, and smugly reined in the horse. She dismounted and extended her arm back up to Kahlan, who huffed and ungracefully slid off the saddle in reverse. Cara moved to assist, but anger and slight humiliation forced Kahlan to snap at her. “I can manage!” Her tone was irritable, and she suddenly felt guilty for being so cruel, when clearly Cara was only trying to help. She caught her gaze for an instant, and mumbled that she was sorry for the outburst. Cara merely nodded, her eyes saying nothing, as usual.

Trying desperately to steer them away from a confrontation, Kahlan asked where they were going. “I saw a house across the valley… perhaps the owner will be hospitable,” came the emotionless reply.

Kahlan swung up onto her own horse, grateful that the situation hadn’t escalated. She still felt groggy from the potion, and stupid for letting herself carelessly get caught in it.

* * * * *

They rode down the mountain in silence, and eventually arrived at the cottage as the sun descended below the horizon. A man came out brandishing a sword, but smiled as he recognized the Mother Confessor. “I had heard you were traveling in these parts, Confessor,” he began. His smile faded as a Mord–Sith came up behind her.

Kahlan knew the look in his eyes, and reassured him with a large, wide smile, one she had frequently practiced. “We wish you no trouble,” she said. “Perhaps we could let our horses rest and I’ll tell you how I come to be traveling with a Mord–Sith instead of the Seeker.”

Still wary, the man nodded slightly, hand remaining on the hilt of his sword. “I’m an inventor. After I got out of the D’Haran command when I was injured, I came here to… to try and lead a more productive life. I’ve been a follower of the Seeker, and would be honored to assist in any way I can,” he continued, as the two women dismounted. Cara led the horses to the barn, while Kahlan explained her traveling companion.

When Cara returned, the man seemed more at ease. “Orlan’s going to let us stay in his house tonight,” Kahlan said cheerily. He said he’d keep watch over the horses and we could have a good night’s rest.” Sensing Cara’s suspicion, she added, “He’s telling the truth.” Shrugging, Cara thanked him and followed them into the house.

Orlan pointed out food, wine, firewood, clean clothes, and a few of his inventions, including his favorite: a bathtub. Not just any bathtub, this one got its water from the mountain stream’s waterfall just behind the house. A metal pipe led it to the fireplace, where it spiraled around the fire and then descended to the tub, nice and hot. A second pipe brought in cool water, so the tub could be filled at the desired temperature. “My wife loves this,” he gestured happily. “She’s down near Aydindril visiting her mother right now,” he added. “We only have one horse, so she had to go alone since I can’t walk that far because of this leg injury.” He turned on the hot water, and put another log on the fire. “Do try it out! It’s not often I get to show off my inventions.” With that, he limped out to tend to the horses.

* * * * *

A barely audible moan escaped Kahlan’s lips as she touched her hand to the water rushing from the pipe, and a large grin lit up her face, this one completely unpracticed. Cara’s pupils widened ever so slightly, and she strained to hear more. She turned just in time to see Kahlan’s clothes falling to a pile on the floor as she slipped gracefully into the tub. Cara trembled, but looked away. She was Mord–Sith. She was in control.

Pouring two goblets of wine, she gulped one down and took the other over to the still–smiling Kahlan, whose long–lashed eyes fluttered open as if awakening from a dream. She reached lazily out to take the wine, and Cara was sure she felt a large spark of the Confessor’s magic when their fingers touched. Retreating back to the kitchen area, she peered at Kahlan from under the lock of hair that fell in her face and inspected her finger which continued to tingle. This would not do. This would not do at all. Cara picked up a very large knife, and began hacking at some potatoes like they needed to die. Now.

Completely unaware of the other woman’s obvious discomfort, Kahlan began to hum a soft lullaby she had learned as a child. Combined with the hot lavender–scented bath and crackling fire, the wine was making her slightly dizzy. She hadn’t felt so relaxed in… well, it had been a very long time.

Cara poured herself another glass of wine, and chopped every potato and onion she could find, loudly, to drown out the melody and perhaps her own reaction to it. Then she started on the carrots. What in the underworld was wrong with her? She ran out of things to disembowel, and glared around the room, on a desperate hunt for more. How could Kahlan torment her so, without even knowing it? The Mord–Sith was painfully aware of the dampness between her legs, and how it had been there since she had watched Kahlan sleeping that morning, her lips slightly parted. The ride on the horse had only made it worse, and she muttered to herself as she realized it was she who should be in the bath right now. Her leathers would need to dry out for days.

A splash brought Cara back to her senses, and Kahlan climbed out of the tub, wrapping a large soft towel around her. She released the drain, and the water began to disappear down another pipe and back to the stream. Padding over to Cara, she gently took the knife out of her hand. “Why don’t you have a bath, too? You seem tense. I can finish making the stew.” She put her hand on Cara’s shoulder and looked carefully into the green eyes, seething with unguarded frustration. It was as if she knew what Cara was thinking, and this made the Mord–Sith even more irritated and she pulled away.

Without saying a word, Cara stalked over to the tub and started to refill it. She began unlacing her leathers, wondering how exactly she’d wriggle out of them without Kahlan seeing how sticky the insides were. A flood of relief filled her as she glanced over and saw Kahlan carefully mincing some rosemary, intent on perfection. Another goblet of wine next to Kahlan did not go unnoticed.

Hearing nothing, Kahlan turned and was mildly surprised to see Cara already in the tub, eyes closed and beginning to look a bit more peaceful. She hadn’t even heard her undress, so she was astonished to see both her linens and Cara’s leathers neatly folded on the bench, side–by–side, not quite touching. Her Agiels were resting on top, within easy reach should they be needed. For someone as tightly wound as Cara, her organizational skills were commendable. Amused, she continued dicing the herbs. Just for a moment, she remembered the scent of Cara’s hair, vaguely hinting of orange blossoms and sage; her brow furrowed slightly and her headache threatened to return.

* * * * *

The tub felt good. Really good. Cara pondered on the day’s events and whether she was losing herself too much in this new life. Warm and safe, she slid her fingers down to brush away all traces of Kahlan’s effect on her, and was startled to find out just how much that effect still remained. So unlike a Mord–Sith. She moaned a little and rubbed harder, feeling the familiar waves of pleasure invade her. This was not what she had planned, but maybe it would help release some of her tension. Wondering how much she could get away with without Kahlan noticing, she cracked an eye to see how far along she was with the dinner, and nearly jumped out of the tub when she found her hovering over the edge, holding out her refilled goblet.

“Wine?” Kahlan asked politely. Too politely. She was trying her hardest not to burst out laughing, Cara was sure of it, although she was not sure if it was from seeing what she was doing or sneaking up unexpectedly on a Mord–Sith.

“I… I… thank you.” Glowering, she took the cup and pulled it to her lips, avoiding the lingering gaze of the Confessor, who mercifully said no more. Fortunately Zedd wasn’t here to lecture her, as he so often did whenever anyone began to feel amorous around him. Still, she listened to be sure.

Kahlan put the stewpot onto the strange–yet–practical cooking shelf above the fire, and sat on the bench next to the clothes, staring at the blonde woman in the tub. It was obviously making Cara nervous, and Kahlan was almost proud of herself for being able to do that. Normally, Cara was so composed and unreadable, and this made her seem… almost human. Almost vulnerable. Wondering how long Cara would sit in the tub with her watching and what she would do when she got out made Kahlan shiver with slight anticipation.

Not to be intimidated, Cara sunk down lower into the rapidly cooling water. On the outside, she appeared calm and even serene, but all senses were attuned to Kahlan. She listened to her breathing, to the rustle of the towel, the slight motion of her shifting position. If this was just a game, so be it. She could play games. She could wait.

After what seemed like days or weeks, Kahlan sighed and stood up. She was watching Cara’s face for any sign of concession, but instead one corner of her mouth smirked up in mock victory. Not wanting to give in so easily, she went to stir the stew, as if that was her sole reason for rising. When she turned around again, Cara was gone. She went back to stirring, then poured some cream on a bowl of blackberries.

Eventually, the newly–composed Cara emerged from the back room wearing a soft blue man’s shirt, with only one lace fastened. Kahlan stared at it a little too long. She didn’t know that Cara had carefully chosen that one because the color was the same as Kahlan’s eyes. She didn’t know that Cara had chosen to stay inside instead of putting great distances between them during the night. She didn’t know that all Cara wanted was to pin her down and possess her. She didn’t know that pleasure and pain were almost the same thing to a Mord–Sith.

Cara sauntered over and tasted a spoonful of the stew. It was good, fully cooked and spiced just right. She must have been in the bath a long time… looking down, the wrinkles on her fingertips confirmed it, and her face couldn’t quite conceal her slight displeasure at the imperfection.

Kahlan vanished into the other room this time, reappearing in a thin white dress, stretched very tightly across the front. “I guess his wife is a little bit… smaller,” she giggled, taking a deep breath to accentuate her meaning. Cara’s heart skipped a beat. “Are you feeling better now?” Kahlan asked softly, with a genuine look of concern fighting her smile. She bit her lower lip a little, and Cara nodded slowly, unable to look away.

“Good! Well have a seat, and I’ll bring the food.” Cara did, and watched as she dished up three plates of greens, bread with cheese, the stew, and some blackberries in cream in a tiny separate bowls. “Should I invite Orlan in or take him some food?” The icy stare answered her question immediately. Picking up a plate, Kahlan hurried out the door.

* * * * *

A short time later she returned, arms crossed tightly, presumably to keep warm, but quite possibly to prevent unwanted stares in the direction of the bodice. “He’s still scared of you, so is glad to stay in the barn tonight,” she casually mentioned.

Cara rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She was very hungry all of the sudden, but had waited for Kahlan; it had seemed like an eternity to the impatient Mord–Sith.

They ate mostly in silence, both staring anywhere except at each other. Cara finished first, and whisked her plate off to the kitchen. She opened another bottle of wine and poured herself some, thinking how much the dark red color reminded her of blood. Perhaps tomorrow she’d find something to kill, something more substantial than vegetables. Behind her, Kahlan was busy clearing the table. “More?” she asked, lifting the bottle. Kahlan nodded and held out her goblet, feeling much more at ease now that Cara looked serene and maybe even slightly happy.

* * * * *

Strolling over to the fireplace, Cara added another log and let herself settle sideways into a comfortable chair. All this domestic nonsense was beginning to agitate her again, and she was tired and full. The meal was tasty, but slightly uncomfortable, and she was anxious to find some space to gather her thoughts. Kahlan let her go, and occupied herself cleaning up. Like she always did. This time, however, the motion of the blonde’s long legs swinging gently over the arm of the chair caught her attention. They were so sensuous, both strong and soft. Golden and distracting. Inappropriate thoughts flooded her mind. She licked her lips almost imperceptibly and stared, not realizing that Cara was devouring her with a heated gaze that left her blushing when she finally noticed.

“Come here,” the Mord–Sith drawled, in a low commanding tone, as if she always got her way. Kahlan obeyed without hesitation. The look of raw desire burning in Cara’s eyes was overwhelming, and even the Mother Confessor was not immune to that.

Cara grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of her. Kahlan’s heart leapt, and she was suddenly very unsure of herself. But soft lips found hers, and kissed her with a firmness that felt somehow comforting. She pulled away slightly, trying to see into those guarded eyes, to see what was buried there, to see something she must’ve missed. Cara stared back, allowing Kahlan to delve. Without breaking the gaze, she gently moved Kahlan’s hand down between her legs, silently admitting her desire.

Eyes widening, Kahlan understood. “Oh,” she whispered, and her fingers sought their target, slipping into the moistness of the beautiful and mysterious woman below her. Cara whimpered uncharacteristically, urging Kahlan on, narrowing her eyes and losing herself in the embrace. She looped one leg over Kahlan, then the other, and hooked her fingers in the long lavender–scented hair tickling her neck.

The supple heat of the Mord–Sith writhing below her was growing more urgent, threatening to explode in a fierce passion, so Kahlan moved faster, lowering her mouth to bite a nipple as Cara arched up to meet her. Cara was moaning loudly now, aware of the noises she was making but unable to stop herself. Her body burned, warmer than the bath, hotter than the fire. She bucked against Kahlan’s palm, and her body tightened as another finger slid home, under the rhythmic pounding of Kahlan’s hips thrusting them deeper. Dark hair was now tangled in her fist, glossy and soft and still slightly damp. The only thing on her mind was release, from the tension of the past few weeks, and her desires. Although it made her feel vulnerable, she was beyond caring. Her breaths were fast and fierce.

Kahlan pushed harder, her thumb sliding side to side as Cara groaned. She felt her own body begin to melt, hot and wet and betraying her with this woman, this woman she thought she hated, this woman she wanted more than anything right now. Her eyes began to darken as she felt her magic welling up, and she stopped moving in a futile attempt to keep it from consuming her. “Don’t stop,” Cara pleaded. “Please don’t stop!” Kahlan tried to continue but it was too late and she ripped herself away from Cara. The mixture of lust and bewilderment on Cara’s face was too much, and the Mother Confessor’s irises were swallowed up in black as she sank to the floor gasping, desperately trying not to confess the woman in front of her, silently cursing the magic that made her both powerful and powerless. Cara’s fingers found her own heat, and continued efficiently for the final few moments, leaving her shuddering and weak. Kahlan was sitting on the rug sobbing softly as her control returned to her and the moment left.

Cara took a few deep breaths, and managed to pull herself up off the chair. She knelt in front of Kahlan and put her arms around her. “Shhh,” she whispered, as Kahlan’s tears continued their path down to her shoulder. Stroking the dark hair softly, Cara waited for the sobs to subside.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan rasped. “I can’t help it. It always ruins everything! And you! Confession would have killed you!” Cara said nothing, but understood. As a Mord–Sith, it was hard to find partners who could tolerate her volatile and violent nature. She wondered if Confessors could comfort each other the way her Sisters did with her, or if they were doomed to only be with compliant partners they had already confessed.

“Come with me.” She led Kahlan to the bed in the other room and motioned for her to sit. “I have an idea.”

“It doesn’t involve your Agiel, does it?”

Cara raised an eyebrow as she saw Kahlan’s strained half smile. “No,” she said, wishing that had been a lie. Glancing around, she spotted some candles and lit them. The trail of liquid down Kahlan’s cheeks was strangely erotic, and Cara found herself wanting her all over again.

“To confess someone, you need to touch them and make eye contact, correct?”

“Um, I think so. I’m not exactly sure how it works, only that I can feel the magic and then it just happens,” the Confessor replied.

“Well then, if we cover your hands and eyes, shouldn’t that prevent it?”

After a long pause, Kahlan looked at her. “I… I’m really not sure.”

Cara kissed the top of her head and said she’d be right back. She disappeared to the front room, but returned soon after with a strip of cloth and her gloves. Kahlan shook her head, completely unsure of this. “I won’t let you confess me, don’t worry.” Her voice was reassuring as she slid her gloves onto the shaking white hands and laced them. Gently, she sat next to her and kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Mord–Sith gloves are enchanted to help protect against the Agiels’ constant pain as well as redirect outside magic, so it seems obvious they’d help contain your powers. You’ve seen me push back fireballs, magic bolts, and even thrown daggers.”

Kahlan’s expression became almost hypnotic, her brow furrowing, and Cara touched it softly until the frown dissipated. Her fingers slid down, tracing the tear stains and circling Kahlan’s mouth, settling just inside as Kahlan sucked the tips, tasting the salty sweetness on them. Leaning in, Cara pressed her lips to Kahlan’s ear and whispered, “Let me do this for you,” and Kahlan quivered and sighed, melting completely.

Deftly unlacing the dress with her other hand, Cara slipped it off Kahlan’s shoulders and over the gloves. Softly, she tied the blindfold around Kahlan’s eyes, their sapphire color haunting her the instant she could no longer see them. Lips trailing down her neck, Cara pushed her backwards until she was lying on the bed. Kahlan shuddered as the soft kisses moved lower, and felt lips and tongue on her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs. It couldn’t be this simple, could it?

As Cara continued to tease her, Kahlan’s thoughts drifted to the past few months… how she had gone from despising this woman to being intimate with her. People can change, Richard had told her, and now she knew that to be true. She herself had changed.

Her need intensified, like a spark becomes a fire, and she pushed Cara’s head closer to the juxtaposition between her legs. Feeling the warm tongue slide right where she desperately wanted it sent Kahlan reeling. She moaned and thrashed and begged, and Cara rewarded her by slipping in two fingers, moving them back and forth as well as in and out, her other hand steadying Kahlan’s thigh, holding her hips down. She tasted Kahlan’s euphoria, drinking it in, and knew she wanted this moment to last forever. Cara kept her on the edge there, not quite letting her peak, savoring the fervent spasms and sighs.

Eventually Kahlan felt her power rising in her again, enslaving her body and mind. Her fingers were tingling, the magic seeking someone to confess but held prisoner within Cara’s gloves. She bucked and cried out, struggling to remain in control of her senses but losing herself despite her efforts. Her eyes filled with black under the protective barrier, the magic within her heightened until it lost its grip and released her, defeated.

“Breathe, Kahlan.” The voice was soft and gentle, and reminded her to return to her body. She gulped some air, as if she had completely forgotten how, and her breaths now came in short, labored heaves, her muscles shuddering and tense. Finally, she lay still, and Cara pulled off the blindfold. Deep blue eyes peered back, and Cara kissed her without looking away. “Do you still hate me?” she whispered between kisses.

“No.”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes.”

Cara pulled back a little bit and stared intently at the woman under her. “Do you love me?” Kahlan only smiled, but stretched up to kiss Cara again, leaving the question unanswered. Hours later they fell asleep, curled in each other’s arms, completely spent.

As the sun came up, there was a knock at the door, and both women flew out of bed and scrambled to find some clothing. It was Orlan, of course. He had a large bowl of fresh fruit and had come to offer some.

When the horses were saddled and ready to go, Kahlan pressed some gold coins into the man’s hands, expressing their gratitude for his hospitality. They got on their horses, and Cara told him to keep the third one, that it would only slow them down anyway. Orlan grinned happily, and said he would surprise his wife with a visit and some new clothing. In a moment of generosity, Cara tossed him another large bag of gold, admitting she had taken the shirt and dress they had worn, and hopefully that was enough to pay for them. Coins were easy for her to acquire, and she wouldn’t miss those. It was enough to buy several more horses if he wanted to, and Orlan looked at it in astonishment before thanking her heartily, his opinion of the Mord–Sith forever altered. She felt oddly satisfied that she had done something benevolent, and took off galloping down the path before she could change her mind.

Kahlan eventually caught up, and they slowed the pace to a walk, heading up the trail on the next mountain range. Kahlan pulled her horse up alongside her and reached for her hand. As she took it, Cara heard Kahlan say one word: “Yes.”

~ ~ ~