LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Bloodrage

racethewind10

For beerbad Prompt: hurt/comfort. “Con’Dar”

Title: Bloodrage

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine

Summary: S.O.S fic for beerbad who asked for hurt/comfort. Kahlan experiences the bloodrage and Cara is there for her. Apologies if the term for blood rage isnt spelled right. I totally just made it up ok?

A/N: I haven’t done this many fics in so short a time…I think ever. And I love it! You girls are amazing! Thank you to all the people who have written, donated, spammed twitter, posted on FB, passed on addresses and just been generally encouraging. we can do this!

Bloodrage

racethewind10

Cara snarls, lashing out at her former Sister. The blow sends the Mord’Sith reeling, but leaves Cara’s back unprotected. If it were only two or three she could take them. But there are more, and even a Mord’Sith cannot stand the force of so many Ageils at once. Her nerves are on fire, body seizing as every muscle fiber screams in agony. The sound is white hot in her mind, eclipsing all else.

All but Kahlan. She can still hear the Confessor fighting and Cara’s heart screams in rage at her inability to make her body obey her, to get up and fight and protect the woman who has come to mean so much to her.

But the pain is too much and the Mord’Sith feels her heart flutter, fail…stop. Her vision goes gray and she understands she is dying. The knowledge brings with it a profound sense of rage at the timing. She is not finished. She is not supposed to die now.

But she is.

The silence in her ears grows loud.

And then a sound shatters that silence: A sound that bears little resemblance to the human voice. It seems to have a physical force, shoving back the grayness in her vision, shocking her heart into starting once more.

Panting and shaking, Cara struggles to her knees and then her feet. She is standing in the middle of a pile of leather clad corpses and Kahlan…

Kahlan stands like a blood spattered spirit in a swath of utter destruction. The dead are everywhere, bodies bent and twisted like grotesque dolls.

This does not bother Cara. When she takes a step toward the taller woman however, she realizes that eyes normally the color of a summer sky are gone, and in their place are pools of endless black rage.

Con’Dar, the bloodrage.

Cara freezes, knowing that provoking the Confessor now will mean her death. “Kahlan,” she tries softly.

Those terrible eyes fix on her, and Kahlan’s lovely features twist into a snarl. With unnatural speed the dark haired woman moves, and before her pain-weakened body can react, Cara’s throat is caught in an iron grip. Kahlan’s face is mere inches from her own, but the woman Cara knows is far, far away, buried beneath the destructive anger of her magic.

The Mord’Sith’s instincts are telling her she should fight, flee, do something.

She shoves them aside ruthlessly, and though it takes every last vestige of her not–inconsiderate will – Cara closes her eyes and surrenders her fate to the woman she has come to trust beyond life and as she does, Kahlan’s name slips from her lips.

An eternity stretches between each of her too-loud heartbeats and then…

“Cara?” It is barely a whisper but the captive woman thinks it might just be the most wonderful thing she has ever heard.

Opening her eyes Cara watches as that terrible blackness recedes. Kahlan drops her hand and confusion clouds her features.

“What?” she tries, but at that moment the toll the bloodrage has taken on the Confessor’s body is called in and the dark haired woman crumples to the ground.

With a start Cara jumps to her side, lifting Kahlan into her lap and pushing sweat dampened hair from pale skin.

“Kahlan?” she whispers, fear of a new kind squeezing her heart at the weakened woman’s shallow breathing.

Clear blue eyes blink open and Kahlan raises a hand that shakes. Cara takes it unthinking.

“What happened?” Kahlan asks, voice cracking. Cara looks around at the dead bodies, then back to the woman in her arms.

“You saved me,” the Mord’Sith says simply.

Kahlan’s eyes flutter and Cara can tell she is fighting exhaustion. She is about to tell the Confessor to rest when Kahlan speaks again.

“I know. I heard your heart stop and then I…I killed them all didn’t I?”

The tone is heavy, but it is with the weight of knowledge and resignation, not fear. Kahlan already knows the answer to her question. Cara however, is still stunned by the implication that it was her death that brought the other woman to the brink of madness.

“I’m so tired.” The admission shocks Cara from her reverie and she focuses once again on Kahlan.

“I know,” she replies, squeezing the trembling hand she still clasps. “Sleep. I’ll be right here.”

Kahlan doesn’t answer. Instead her body makes its own reply, giving in as blue eyes flutter closed and the exhausted woman surrenders to sleep.

Surrounded by the heavy silence of death, Cara shifts slightly and tightens her hold on the woman in her arms, listening to the soft rush of breath from her body and the slow beat of her heart, content to wait as long as it takes for Kahlan to wake.

Fin