LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

Dominion

sos10

Title: Dominion

Author: sos10

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan

Rating: NC–17

Word count: 2500

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Note: Continuation of what started out as a one–off, The Host. A little plot, a little sex, and a little crack/fluff (blame Kahlan for that one). Set off TV–verse late in season 2. For now anyway – I just finished reading Wizard’s First Rule, so there will probably be book elements creeping in on occasion.

Dominion

sos10

“Cara, how many were there?”

She jumped imperceptibly at Richard’s mention of her name and tore her eyes from where they had settled on Kahlan’s chest across the table. She cleared her throat, wondering how long she had been lost in thought. Distracting things, she thought. Her eyes flashed to Kahlan’s. The lamplight of the inn revealed ever–so–subtle coloring of Kahlan’s cheeks. Nonetheless, her eyes widened for a second. The message said, “Focus. Don’t mess this up.”

“Uhhh…” She cleared her throat again, rising from her slump and placing her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. “Ten or so. They were small. They didn’t fight very well, but they had superior numbers.” Richard eyed the bruise on her forehead. “It was hard,” she finished lamely.

“I see. And they came at night?”

“Lord Rahl, has Kahlan not told you everything you wished to know?” Cara felt indignant at his appraisal of her wound.

“No, no, she did, I’m just trying to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Zedd, what do you think?” Richard sat back on the bench and folded his arms across his chest. He was shoulder to shoulder with Kahlan – Cara was in her usual spot, next to the eternally famished wizard.

Zedd pulled the chicken leg from his teeth just long enough to utter two words, his eyes wide with emphasis. “Powerful magic.”

Kahlan and Cara’s eyes met. Kahlan stifled a laugh and Cara smirked, remembering their conversation on the clifftop. Richard’s eyes closed and he leaned foward again, his forehead coming to meet his hands. “Zedd, any specifics would be appreciated. Greatly.”

Zedd sighed and placed the unfinished chicken leg reverently on his plate. “The hill people that inhabit that area keep to themselves, and are inherently peaceful. Nobody has seen them for hundreds of years, and not many know they exist. They would rather relocate than defend their homeland in war. Absolutely nothing could drive them to attack you. You say you kept to the path following the cliffs?” Kahlan and Cara nodded. “That’s leagues from the borders of their lands,” Zedd continued, turning his eyes back to Richard. “What does that tell you my boy?”

Richard’s brow furrowed. “They knew they were coming.”

“Indeed.” His eyes went to Kahlan. “You said they had weapons, yes? Were they farm implements, or swords and the like?”

Kahlan frowned. “A few had short swords and axes. If they’re as peaceful as you say, why would they have weapons?”

“Why indeed,” Zedd mused. “They were being manipulated. Their minds were not their own.”

Kahlan’s eyes widened and her hand went to her mouth. “They were innocent? We killed them.”

“No, child,” the wizard soothed. “You had no choice. They were sent to end you. You looked into their eyes; tell me what you saw.”

“Malice… spite… hatred.”

“Exactly. Had you not defended yourselves, rest assured, they would have killed you.”

Kahlan nodded wordlessly, but didn’t look at all relieved. “Zedd, who has that kind of power?”

“Shota, myself, and Darken Rahl were he not a spirit. I can think of no one else.”

Richard leaned forward. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she try to kill them? She’s hardly an ally of the Keeper.”

Zedd smiled mirthlessly. “Shota is a seer. She rarely does things that make sense to others, because she sees things as no one else does. She doubtlessly believes she is trying to alter the world for the better – to either avoid one of her visions, or make sure it comes to pass.”

Cara had become quiet, and Kahlan noticed she was staring off into space again. Well, if all of space were in between her breasts. She gave her a light kick under the table. Cara started and blinked rapidly. Kahlan felt another blush on her cheeks, but forced herself to give Cara a stern look. Cara avoided her gaze and instead focused on Richard.

“And what would the Lord Rahl have us do?”

“Sleep. We’re safe here, and I’m tired. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

* * * * *

Kahlan closed the door to their room upstairs and turned to face Cara. She hooked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t like this. We should tell them the truth.”

“Didn’t we talk about this at length on the way here?” Cara started to loosen the laces on her leathers. She knew this would happen – Confessors seemed to have quite the aversion to lying.

“What if what happened with the sword is important? I’m going to ask Zedd.” Her tone didn’t share the statement’s finality.

“You will do no such thing.”

“I’ll swear him to secrecy as the Mother Confessor. He won’t tell Richard.”

Cara’s hands paused in their work and went to her hips. She arched an eyebrow. “You would abuse your title in that manner?”

Rage flashed across Kahlan’s blue eyes. “Abuse? You would accuse me of abusing the title of Mother Confessor?” Her tone was icy – not a hint of incredulity.

Cara’s eyes dropped. She hated seeing Kahlan upset, and hated it all the more when she was the cause. “No, Kahlan, I’m –”

“No,” Kahlan interrupted softly. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even think of that.”

Cara looked up to see Kahlan’s eyes clouding with something, and she suddenly wanted to hold her. Instead she sat on the edge of the bed and resumed undressing. Not knowing what else to say, she started repeating what she had told Kahlan many times in the past few days. “Richard can’t know. About us. We don’t know how he would react. He loves you more than he should, and he’s too valuable. If he’s compromised, if his heart is broken or filled with rage, he might not be able to fulfill his function as Seeker. The Keeper would win. As such, he can’t know you went into the Con Dar. For me. So we lie, and we continue lying as long as we have to.”

Kahlan didn’t respond. Cara looked up and immediately hated herself. Tears had started streaming down the Confessor’s face. “I can’t do this,” she wailed. “I can’t lie to them. It goes against everything I am.” Cara was on her feet, and her hands reached for Kahlan’s face to wipe away the tears. This time she couldn’t help it, and pulled Kahlan into a fierce embrace. Her hand came to the back of Kahlan’s head as the brunette sobbed into her shoulder.

Cara knew she was absolutely awful at comforting people. She had not received much opportunity for practice in her line of work. She bit her lip and did the only thing she could think of. “There, there,” she whispered, stroking Kahlan’s hair. “Everything will be alright.”

Kahlan pulled her head back and peered into the soft green eyes. “I believe you,” she whispered. She forced a small smile, and quickly found it stayed of its own accord as she gazed deeper into Cara’s soul. Kahlan took her lower lip into her mouth. “How do you do that?”

Cara’s eyes questioned her.

“You make me feel loved, just by looking at me.”

Cara’s brow furrowed. “I don’t –”

She was interrupted as Kahlan’s lips softly pressed to her own. “Silly Cara,” she murmured. “There’s only one answer to that question, and it doesn’t have any words.”

Cara couldn’t stop herself from leaning into Kahlan, aching for another kiss. Smirking, Kahlan stepped back and pressed her index finger to Cara’s nose. “You were having problems focusing at dinner, weren’t you?”

Cara groaned inwardly. She knew where this was going, but tried to explain anyway. “Kahlan, I wasn’t trying to…” Her eyes involuntarily locked onto their favorite spot on her chest. Her words stopped.

Kahlan’s grin was huge. “You are hopeless. I’m going to have to start wearing something more chaste if you’re that easily distracted.”

“No, I won’t – I wasn’t – You can’t –”

Kahlan stifled a giggle at Cara’s terrified expression. “I was joking silly. But honestly, you need to exercise control. Richard probably wouldn’t notice, but not much gets past Zedd.”

“Fine.” Cara finished undressing in a huff, and a small smile was stuck to Kahlan’s face as she did the same. Cara hid her own small smile of contentment as her eyes played over Mother Confessor’s naked form – she couldn’t imagine ever losing any appreciation for such a beautiful sight. They doused the lamp and crawled into the bed. Cara started to wrap her arms around Kahlan to pull her close, but was stopped as Kahlan pressed a warm hand to her chest. “Oh no you don’t.” Cara didn’t need lamplight to know the huge smile was back on her face. She huffed and flipped onto her side, turning her back to Kahlan. She smiled when she felt Kahlan’s arm wrap around her as she pulled their bodies close. Warm skin met warm skin. Cara reveled in the feeling of bliss that came with the Confessor’s soft breasts pressed into her back, warm breath on her neck, and legs freely intertwining. Cara would never admit it, but she loved the feeling of warmth and protection Kahlan’s arms brought. Moments later, when she was sure Kahlan had fallen asleep, she whispered the words ever so softly.

“I love you Kahlan.”

Kahlan smiled behind her and drifted asleep replaying the words in her head.

* * * * *

Morning sunlight broke across Kahlan’s face. She woke, and realized she was clutching the sleeping Mord–Sith as if she was scared to let go. Suddenly a part of her dream came back and she winced, forcing it out of her mind. Instead she focused on Cara’s soft golden hair, appreciating the way the shafts of light fell on it. She raised herself on her arms and turned Cara over onto her back. It was a curious thing – Cara was an incredibly light sleeper and would usually wake at a twig snapping twenty paces away, yet Kahlan had never accidentally woken her. It was as if the Mord–Sith’s body trusted her implicitly, even in its weakest state.

Kahlan decided to push her luck.

She lowered her head over Cara’s and gave her a soft, slow kiss. She pulled back, and waited. No change. Kahlan smiled. She gave her another kiss – this one sensual, drawn out, her tongue tasting Cara’s. It was the kind she knew would drive Cara mad were she awake. Still nothing – not even the slightest change in the Mord–Sith’s breathing. “Interesting,” she breathed to herself. Kahlan decided this warranted further experimentation. She pulled the covers back from Cara and sat back on her haunches, drinking in the expanse of golden skin, swelling breasts, and shapely hips. A devilish gleam played in Kahlan’s eye as her hand reached for Cara’s breast. She palmed it, holding her breath, expecting Cara to wake at any second. Still nothing. Her thumb and forefinger found their way to the nipple, and Kahlan bit her lip and squeezed. Cara moaned.

Kahlan fell backwards off the bed, limbs flailing, landing with a thud on the rug beside the bed. She froze, holding back a burst of laughter at her own fright. She expected Cara’s face to appear over the edge with a perplexed expression, but it didn’t come. Slowly, Kahlan rose and saw that Cara hadn’t even moved. A smile broke over Kahlan’s face.

She rubbed her backside and carefully resumed her position of torture at Cara’s side. Feeling more sure of herself, she didn’t waste any time lowering her head over Cara’s chest. She took a nipple between her teeth and bit – softly – playing her tongue over the tip. Her hand found the other and twisted – softly, gently. Cara moaned again, pushing her head back, writhing in the covers for a moment. Kahlan’s eyes wrinkled as she felt her lips pull into a smile. This was fun. She released the nipple from her teeth and played her lips over it, nipping it at it gently, pushing it with her tongue. She paused and switched, mouthing the other nipple and massaging the former with her hand and fingers. Kahlan knew if Cara were awake she would be panting by now.

Her free hand roamed over Cara’s stomach, feeling the tight muscles of her abdomen. It reached around her hip, appreciating the softness of the side of her rear. She played a fingernail around to the inside of her leg, drawing a v–shaped line up to her navel and down to her other thigh. Not stopping her ministrations on Cara’s breasts, she repeated the line, drawing ever close to the strip of blonde curls in between the Mord–Sith’s thighs. Finally, Kahlan noticed a marked change in Cara’s breathing. She perked her head up and gazed at Cara as she pulled her thumb over the stiff curls. Cara’s mouth opened wider, but her eyes stayed closed. Kahlan grinned. There was nothing else for it. She moved her palm down to cup Cara’s sex and found exactly what she expecting – the Mord–Sith was soaked. Slowly, gently, she curled two fingers and placed them at the entrace to Cara’s heat. Kahlan watched as Cara’s eyelids fluttered. Suddenly, she shoved her fingers roughly inside, and the blonde’s eyes and mouth snapped open.

Cara woke to Kahlan’s grinning face, twinkling eyes, and immense pleasure between her thighs. “Good morning, sweetheart!” Kahlan chirped.

She squeezed her eyes back shut. She hated being called that, and Kahlan knew it. “Mother Confessor,” she rasped. “Are you attempting to violate me?”

“Yes!” Kahlan gushed.

Cara moaned as her muscles flexed around Kahlan’s stilled fingers, opening her eyes to see Kahlan’s looking mischievously back at her. She squinted in the morning light. “Well, carry on then.”

“Yes Mistress.” Kahlan’s voice had that distinctly teasing tone – the one she loved.

“You… are… hhhnnnngg…” Cara’s train of thought vanished into waves of pleasure as Kahlan started to pump her fingers in and out, pushing Cara closer to the edge. She gasped and threw her head back into the pillows as she felt Kahlan’s thumb graze her nub. Her cheeks and chest flushed with rising heat. “Please…”

Kahlan considered teasing Cara further, but decided against it. It was the least she could do in return for pleasuring Cara when she wasn’t awake to feel it. She pressed a hard circle into Cara’s nub and pumped vigorously, covering Cara’s mouth with her free hand while laughing at Cara’s rising – and very loud – moan.

Cara bucked her hips against Kahlan’s hand and came hard, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure rolled across her. She became aware of Kahlan’s hand over her mouth and licked her palm with a smirk. Kahlan drew her hand back with a smile, and slowly withdrew her other other from Cara’s sex.

“We’re not alone in the woods, silly,” Kahlan admonished.

“You make me forget where we are.”

Kahlan sighed as she remembered just exactly where they were – stopped at an inn with Richard and Zedd in their quest to stop the Keeper. “Likewise. We’d better get downstairs.”

“You don’t want…”

“No.” Kahlan suddenly felt sick – she’d lost herself in bringing pleasure to Cara, and the real world came crashing back down on her like so many bricks. She schooled her composure and turned from Cara. “Another day of secrets.”

Cara placed a hand on the small of her back. She couldn’t think of any words, so she rubbed gently. She vowed to resolve this – watching Kahlan hurt was the one kind of pain she couldn’t handle.

Part 2

Kahlan felt sure she was going mad.

It had only been five days since the night at the inn – a fortnight since the clifftop – and she was relearning that keeping secrets was not her strong point. She was reminded of the torture she felt over not telling Richard who – and what – she really was, what her magic meant. It seemed so long ago. But this was different; worse. Before that night on the cliff she was open in her adoration of Richard; she cried when they were parted and kissed when they were re–united. She shared special moments with him; special looks, special touches, special smiles. She did all these things because they felt right; because she had believed and hoped she was falling in love with him. Now she forced herself to continue these things, and it was a lie. It made her soul feel sick to look into his soft brown eyes and force a smile. Cara tried so hard to comfort her when they stole a moment alone, but she knew was she getting worse. She was going to have to do something.

Richard, for his part, seemed oblivious. Zedd seemed less so. He kept a weather eye on Kahlan, and two whenever Kahlan and Cara were together. They had decided to head for Agaden Reach, despite Kahlan and Zedd’s warnings. He was insistent that they wouldn’t reach the Stone with Shota dogging their steps. Cara made it known that she didn’t see the logic in heading straight towards the woman responsible for their attempted murder, but in Richard’s words, the compass “kind of pointed that way anyway”. Cara had rolled her eyes and acquiesed.

That night after sunset, around their campfire, dinner was a strangely silent affair. Zedd was looking sagely off into the woods, Cara was loosening and tightening her glove, Kahlan was counting the laces on her boots, and Richard’s eyes were darting between all three. “Kahlan, walk with me?” Richard spoke at last.

She looked up and nodded with a tight smile. She took his offered hand, and they set off out of the camp. Kahlan couldn’t resist throwing a look back at Cara, but so many emotions were going through her there was no telling what Cara saw on her face.

Cara gazed into the flames when they were gone. “Not a word, wizard.”

Zedd coughed and resumed his inspection of the darkness between the trees.

* * * * *

“Kahlan, I know something’s wrong. I’ve been ignoring it, hoping you’d tell me on your own, but I can tell it’s eating it at you. What is it?”

She almost choked on her breath. He knew. Of course he knew – he was the Seeker of Truth. He knew, and had been waiting for her to tell him this entire time. If she felt guilty before, it all came crashing down at once now. She resisted the urge to fall to the forest floor and bawl to her broken heart’s content. Instead, she dipped her head and called upon every ounce of her training to don the emotionless Confessor’s mask. Amazingly, she succeeded. “I’m fine Richard.” The calmness in her voice surprised her. “Really. You have enough to worry about.”

“Kahlan…” He stopped walking and gently took her by the shoulders, holding her at arms length. “Kahlan, look at me. I know you’ve been ups–” The words died on his tongue as Kahlan met his gaze. He knew that look. That was the look on her face before she took someone’s confession, when meeting with a Queen or King, when conducting affairs of her office… and when she needed, desperately, to hide all traces of emotion. He had never been on the receiving end before. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “Kahlan.” His voice took on a stern quality it was entirely lacking before. “If I wasn’t sure you were hiding something before, I am now.” His voice softened. “Please, let me in. You can trust me.”

She wanted to scream. Leave it to the Seeker to cause the Confessor’s mask to backfire. She felt tricked, angry… and trapped. “I can’t.” She spat the words as if they were filled with venom. “You don’t understand. You can’t help me with this.”

“At least tell me what it is,” Richard pleaded.

She couldn’t believe he was pressing the matter. “No. Do I need to explain the meaning of that word, Richard?”

His hands fell to his sides and his jaw clenched. “Fine.” He turned around and stormed back to camp.

Kahlan felt herself sinking to the forest floor as emotions and thoughts whirled through her head. She crouched there a for a moment, breathing deep, trying to regain control. There was no way she could go back to the camp yet – Richard needed to cool down, and that would be impossible with her presence. She rose, took a deep breath, and looked for a place to sit down.

* * * * *

Cara padded softly through the forest, squinting to find her way. The moon was half empty, and the tree cover ahead was just thick enough to make things difficult. A soft voice called from her left.

“Here, Cara.”

She saw the Confessor sitting cross legged on a large flat stone just above the forest floor, head bowed, hair falling around her shoulders. “Kahlan, what happened? You should come back to camp, it’s cold. You’ll get sick.”

“I can’t go back.”

“Richard will have calmed down by the time we get back. Let’s get you back to the fire.”

“Ever.”

Cara froze. She hadn’t anticipated this. She forced her tone to be reproachful, yet soft. “Kahlan, that’s nonsense and you know it.” She paused, realizing she needed to know how much Richard knew before she could continue. “What did you tell him?”

Kahlan snapped her head up and glared up at her, moonlight glinting off tearstained cheeks. Cara felt her heart twist – she’d been the cause of the Confessor’s tears all too often lately. Kahlan’s voice was sharp. “You think I told him? Is that what you think?”

“I think I wouldn’t be alive if you had,” Cara replied calmly. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

Kahlan sighed. “There isn’t much to tell. He knows I’m carrying a secret, he knows it’s driving me mad, and he knows I won’t tell him what it is.” She smiled grimly. “The good news is I don’t have to pretend to be in love with him anymore.”

“Eventually he’ll figure out it’s not because of your fight.”

She shot her a sideways glance. “I know that. I’ve been sitting here for the past mark thinking of nothing else.” She sighed. “Why did you come anyway? Did you feel like tonight was the night to confirm Zedd’s suspicions?”

Cara pursed her lips. “I didn’t have a choice. Lord Rahl ordered me to see to you, and get you safely back to camp.”

“I see.” Kahlan’s voice was cold, distant, and it hurt Cara to hear it.

The two women shared a few moments of existence, both deep in thought. Kahlan broke the silence, her voice soft and apologetic. “Come here.” She patted the stone beside her. Cara padded over and took a seat, her back straight and stiff. Kahlan sat back then pulled her knees to her chest and continued. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Cara bowed her head. “This is my fault.”

“Hey.” Kahlan’s brow furrowed and she wrapped her hand around Cara’s neck to pull her forehead to her own. She held Cara’s gaze. “There’s enough blame for the both of us. We’re in this together.”

Kahlan paused, and Cara took the opportunity to speak. “You can’t leave,” she blurted out.

Kahlan sat back and raised an eyebrow. “Are you forbidding me permission?”

“Yes. No. Yes. I don’t… I’m staying with Lord Rahl, and you’re staying with me. I need you.” She bit her lip and whispered, “Don’t make me choose.”

“I don’t think I could leave you if I wanted to.” Kahlan brought her hand up to Cara’s face. “I need you, too.” She ran her thumb over Cara’s cheek. “I need you,” she repeated softly.

Their lips moved together, eyes closed, and they shared a kiss. There was no lust, no passion, no quickening of breath. It was a kiss of fervent promise and shared pain.

* * * * *

After Cara left, Richard stared at the fire as if it were responsible for all the world’s pain. Zedd waited a few moments before speaking, letting his mind work through things.

He cleared his throat. “Whatever pain you’re feeling, my boy, you can work through it. Keep your mind on the task at hand, even if only to serve as distraction.”

Richard continued staring. “The quest for the Stone is more than a distraction, Zedd. It’s the most important thing I’ll ever do.”

“Yes, yes,” Zedd soothed. “I merely meant that the familiar tasks present in such a journey can help clear your mind.”

Richard didn’t answer. He was silent until Kahlan and Cara came back into the camp, at which point he rose wordlessly and flopped into his bedroll. The women did the same. Zedd sighed. “I wanted first watch anyway,” he announced. No one answered.

* * * * *

Zedd woke with a start to his grandson’s urgent shaking. “Zedd. Wake up. ZEDD.”

The urgency in his Richard’s tone cleared the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. “I’m… what is it my boy?”

“Cara says they’re hearthounds. There’s a lot of them, and they’ll be here soon.” As if on cue, a howl broke the early morning air and chilled Zedd to the bone. Richard’s voice was nervous. “Zedd, what’s a hearthound?”

Zedd stood and tried to focus. Kahlan was pacing nervously, daggers in hand, head fixed in the direction of the howl. Cara was nowhere to be seen. “Hearthounds are creatures of the underworld that were loosed on the Midlands when the D’Haran Boundary fell. They’re twice the size of wolves, vicious, and intelligent. There’s only two ways to avoid fighting them – either put water between you and them, or possess the bone of a creature from the Underworld. It confuses them.” His neck cracked as he swiveled it wildly. “Where’s Cara?”

“She went to slow them down. Zedd, we don’t have any Underworld bones! What about water?”

Kahlan broke in. “The nearest lake or stream is a league from here. We won’t make it.”

A crash in the underbrush caused everyone to snap their heads in the direction of the sound. Richard drew his sword and Kahlan readied her daggers. Zedd cleared his mind and focused his powers, and they waited as the source of the sound approached.

Part 3

A flash of red and blonde emerged from the green foliage and Cara burst into the camp, breathing raggedly. Her leathers were torn, and patches of tan fur were caught in various buckles. “Hearthounds… huge pack. I killed two that were seperated, but… At least… a score. Right behind…” She keeled over, one hand to her knee and the other pointing the direction she had come from.

Richard readied his sword and faced the underbrush, eyes darting frantically. “Can they climb trees?”

Kahlan shot him a withering glance. “Yes, let’s trap ourselves indefinitely in the treetops.”

Richard cocked his head, and that faraway expression appeared in his eyes for a moment – the one that said he’d thought of something. “Zedd – what can you do with this?” He held a waterskin up, his eyes wide and earnest.

Zedd stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What do I look like, the Creator? How am I to stop a pack of hearthounds with a waterskin? Throw it at them?”

“There’s water in it!” Richard insisted. “Do something!”

Zedd clenched his jaw in thought, mind whirling. A howl – much closer – broke his concentration just as he reached his solution. “Richard. Empty the waterskin in a straight line, there.” His finger drew an imaginary line at the edge of the clearing and Richard rushed to do as he was told. Working quickly, Zedd kneeled – painfully – and cleared away leaves and debris to expose a sizable patch of loose dirt beneath the forest floor. He reached into his sleeve for his pouch of sorceror’s sand and concentrated as he grabbed a fistful and carefully released it through his fingers to form the correct rune.

Cara was aghast. “Wizard. We’re about to be overrun, and you’re drawing things in the dirt? Blast them with fire or… something!” Desperation crept into her voice.

Zedd finished the rune and stood back a pace, eyes closed. “There are too many. You’d better hope this works.”

Another crash sounded in the underbrush, then two more. Zedd started to chant something in a strange language. The crashes grew louder. Richard, Kahlan and Cara all crept back until they were beside the wizard.

“Zedd…” Richard’s voice was low.

Kahlan admonished him, forcing confidence into her voice. “Shush. Let him finish.” She was feeling no small amount of her own fear. She was quite familiar with what the beasts were capable of alone, let alone in a pack this large.

The first beast broke the clearing just as Zedd yelled the last line of the spell and threw his arms toward the forest edge. The air shuddered and water erupted skyward in a continuous sheet where Richard had emptied the skin. Kahlan froze when she saw the beast’s malicious yellow eyes – she recognized them. Richard lunged forward, the Sword of Truth sang, and the beast’s head tumbled to Kahlan’s feet.

“Zedd!” Richard shouted over the roar of water. “That’s great, but they can get around it! Please tell me you’re not done!”

“Hardly.” The wizard replied cooly. Still extending his arms, he spread his hands slowly. The sheet extended on either side, stretching across the clearing slowly before shooting off into the forest on either side. He murmured something, dropped his hands, and the wall of water stabilized in place, no longer gushing from the ground. The surface undulated gently and allowed a distorted view of the forest on the other side. It reminded Richard in no small way of the Boundary between Westland and the Midlands. He stepped foward in awe.

“Richard…” Kahlan’s voice was low in warning.

A multitude of snapping jaws, flashing fangs, and yellow eyes appeared on the other side. The tan beasts were huge, and Cara was right – there was at least a score of them. Richard stepped back. “Can they…”

“They could, but they won’t.” Zedd’s voice was relieved, but a hint of pride crept in. “The boundary stretches a league in either direction, but it won’t last more than a day. We need to make good use of that time.”

Cara broke in impatiently. “How far away is the Reach? That won’t work next time; they’ll just surround us.”

Kahlan sheathed her daggers and ran her hands through her hair. “A day and a half, one if we don’t stop.”

Richard moved to start packing their camp. “Then we don’t stop.”

* * * * *

They reached the edge of Shota’s lair as dawn broke the next morning. They were exhausted. Zedd had the worst of it; his old bones could barely handle the stress. During the last leg of the journey they were motivated by the occasional howl of their pursuers. Zedd’s boundary had fallen; their only hope was reaching Shota before they could catch up to them.

A voice drifted from the side of the path they walked. “Zeddicus Z’ul Zorander.” Shota stepped out into the road, stopping the weary party in their tracks. She seemed to float towards them, her fur coat draped around her and her hair shimmering gently. “You brought them to my doorstep?” She smiled mirthlessly. “You are too kind.” Despite her thinly veiled threat, Richard knew even Shota’s magic was no match for a Mord–Sith. As long as Cara was with them, they were safe.

He stepped forward. “Alright. First, your damned prophecy is wrong. There’s no way I’m giving the Stone to the Keeper. Second, if you want me dead, why did you send the hill people after Kahlan and Cara?”

Shota’s voice hardened. “You have no idea what I want, Seeker.”

Kahlan’s voice was harder. “Call off your hearthounds.” The rest of them glanced at her in surprise.

Shota smiled. “Smart girl. Was it the eyes?” she asked innocently.

Kahlan tried her hardest to glare a hole through Shota’s forehead.

Suddenly Shota’s hand came up. Cara stepped in front of Kahlan instinctively, and immediately felt very foolish for not stepping in front of Richard instead. She hoped no one would think twice of it.

The corners of Shota’s mouth twitched. “Enough. Come, and we’ll discuss what we are to do with you and your friends.”

Nobody moved. Shota closed her eyes and sighed. “Fine. The hearthounds are released; they’re back to their own feral ways. Now come.”

“And we have only your word for this,” Cara stated flatly.

“Zedd, please tell your Mord–Sith friend I am not a liar.”

The wizard sighed. “As dangerous and twisted as her tongue may be, her words are true.”

Cara grunted, clearly unconvinced.

Shota turned and raised her hand. The woods on their left shimmered, and an open path appeared. “Come.”

* * * * *

Kahlan was pacing a path in the grass of the clearing. The day had stretched almost to completion; Shota had taken Zedd and Richard, leaving Cara and Kahlan alone with their thoughts. Cara was silent. She wondered if Kahlan was as frustrated as she – alone but unable to touch, to comfort, to show affection. Richard could be back at any minute.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Kahlan asked at length.

Cara gave a short laugh. “The most powerful living sorceress, the First Wizard, and the Seeker of Truth. What do you think they’re doing? They’re yelling at each other.”

Kahlan managed a tight smile. “I think you’re probably right.” Her face grew serious. “Cara, what if Shota tells them how many hill people we killed? Ten is a far cry from the host we faced. She was tied to them to be able to influence them; there’s a good chance she knows.”

Cara didn’t answer.

* * * * *

It was near sundown when Zedd and Richard returned at last. Neither said a word, but their expressions were grim. They settled around the small fire Cara had built and stared at it silently.

Kahlan flashed a concerned glance to Cara. The blonde stood and crossed her arms under her chest. “Well?”

Zedd cleared his throat. “We were unable to convince Shota of Richard’s future innocence. She remains convinced he will deliver the Stone to the Keeper.” Cara noted with a tiny amount of satisfaction that his voice was a touch hoarse.

Kahlan spoke up. “Why didn’t she kill him then?” Richard sent her a withering glare. Kahlan stared innocently at Zedd.

“It wasn’t easy stopping her,” Zedd sighed. “She kept talking about new visions, forked paths, but wouldn’t give us any details. It was quite frustrating.” He paused and turned his gaze on Cara. She shrunk back involuntarily. “She wants to talk to you, Cara. Alone. At sunrise tommorrow.”

Cara frowned. “Why on earth would she want to talk to me?”

“She seems to think you’re quite important,” the wizard shrugged. “Now! Who’s hungry?”

* * * * *

It was deep into the night when Kahlan woke sweating from a dream. She couldn’t escape the feeling that everything was coming to a head, that she was soon going to be paying an impossibly heavy price for her deceptions. Her stomach twisted in a knot at the thought of Richard’s face. She breathed in the night air and clutched at her bedroll, trying to force back the wave of utter melancholy that washed over her. She loosed a shaky sigh. Her love for Cara was killing her.

She stood slowly. Everyone was asleep; ironically, there was no need for a watch in Agaden Reach. The only danger here was Shota, and she would have no need of sneaking up on them in the night. She padded softly over to Cara’s bedroll. The Mord–Sith was sleeping on her side; she was stricken by the urge to slip next to her and curl up holding her like she had done on so many nights since the cliffside. Instead, she fell to her knees, placing her hand on Cara’s shoulder. She lowered her head to Cara’s ear, eyes squeezing shut to hold back growing wetness. “Cara, I need you,” she whispered softly. Cara’s eyes fluttered open, and she lifted herself up with concern on her face.

“Oh Kahlan,” she said softly. No other words were needed, and none came. Cara sat up and took the brunette into her arms protectively.

“Cara… I’m scared,” Kahlan whispered into her neck. “Please make me forget. Where I am. Make me forget.” Cara pulled her away and studied her face intently. The pain she saw in her moonlit blue eyes twisted her chest. Cara pressed her lips to her forehead. Kahlan sagged in her arms; she’d never felt her more pliant.

“Come on,” Cara whispered, rising. Kahlan took her offered hand and Cara led them away from the camp. It wasn’t long before they reached another clearing. Cara laid the Confessor down on her back on the soft grass. The brunette gazed up at her with trusting blue eyes as Cara climbed on top of her, straddling her waist with her thighs. Cara leaned down, her blonde hair falling around face, took Kahlan’s face in both hands, and whispered quietly into Kahlan’s mouth. “You are, right now, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Kahlan’s breath hitched and she wrapped a hand around Cara’s neck to pull her closer. She loved Cara’s lips – soft, full, and warm. Right now she hungered for them; she ached for the contact… the distraction. After what seemed like an eternity of coming closer, ever closer, she finally felt the release of Cara’s mouth against her own. Kahlan pressed hungrily, insistently.

Their lovemaking was like nothing either had ever experienced. Cara was attentive to every subtle clue in Kahlan’s body, playing hands under the hem of her dress, pressing skin against skin wherever possible. Kahlan whimpered in protest whenever the blonde’s mouth left hers, making it clear with a slow press of her tongue against Cara’s that she wasn’t done memorizing Cara’s mouth. Kahlan lost herself in the world of pleasure Cara guided her through, breathing in every drop of her essence and appreciating every second she could gaze into her emerald eyes. Cara’s hand finally found its mark, sending a shudder through Kahlan as she made electrifying contact with her heated sex. There was no pretense, no teasing – Cara wanted Kahlan to lose herself completely. She had to. Gently, lovingly, she curled two fingers and slipped them inside, dropping her mouth to Kahlan’s neckline to lay soft kisses and nibbles across her shoulder and neck. Cara felt Kahlan arch her back and press up into her hand. “Cara,” Kahlan breathed. Her voice was heavy with sex and want.

Cara possessed her with smooth, gentle motions – conveying every bit of her love for Kahlan with every push inside her. Kahlan writhed slightly under her touch, breath coming uneven. Cara reveled in tasting the slight sheen of heat and sweat on Kahlan’s skin. She planted a trail of kisses across her jawline and pushed her closer – ever closer – to the edge. She felt the Confessor’s wet heat start to contract around her fingers and remembered in growing agony that all the love in the world couldn’t stand between her and Kahlan’s magic. She slowed her pace, Kahlan protesting in so many groans. Cara never wanted this to end; she locked her gaze on Kahlan’s fluttering eyelids and forced her mind to remember every aspect of the brunette’s pleasure–wracked face.

Cara closed her eyes in frustration as she felt Kahlan’s hand pulling her own away from her thighs. It ached to do so, but she removed her hand, scooted back, and pulled her knees to her chest as she watched the Confessor finish herself with a shaky breath and clenched muscles. The air rippled and thunder without sound rolled across the clearing. Cara dove back to Kahlan’s side as she came down, eyes clearing and body relaxing. Kahlan looked up at the blonde and smiled genuinely for the first time in days. “Cara…” she started. The Mord–Sith shushed her with a finger to her lips. She pulled the brunette’s head into her lap and softly stroked her hair. Kahlan’s face was a picture of calm, and she was asleep in minutes.

* * * * *

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Shota’s tone was decidedly accusatory.

Cara didn’t appreciate it. She slammed the door to the large room shut; the sound echoed off the stone walls. “Spare me the dramatics, witch. What did you bring me here for?”

Shota clasped her hands in front of her, as if explaining something to a small child. “Your selfish actions have assured the Keeper’s victory. You have, in fact, doomed us all.”

Part 4

“Me?” Cara was stunned. “What did I – how can you know?”

Shota sneered. “I have seen it. Just as surely as Richard will deliver the Stone to the Keeper. There was another path, a fork in the river of time… but that path has all but completely faded in the last few weeks. Tell me Cara, what has changed for you in the last few weeks?”

“I…” Cara suddenly grew hoarse. “Kahlan…”

“Yes – Kahlan. You have tampered with the way things ought to be! She is the Mother Confessor. Kahlan should love Richard, the Seeker, not a Mord–Sith!” Shota’s eyes flashed. “It is – it was – the only way.”

Cara was stricken speechless. Conflicting thoughts – all of them unpleasant – swirled through her mind. Denial won out first. “You can’t know that. You are not infallible.” Her voice grew stronger. “Lord Rahl doesn’t believe in prophecy, and neither do I.”

Shota glared at her, but clenched her jaw in resignation. She had expected no less. “Come.” Large double doors swung open silently as she walked towards them. A cavernous room waited on the other side; torches spaced throughout the stone walls erupted in flame as the two entered. A large wide bowl filled to the brim with water sat on a raised platform in the center of the room. A narrow shaft of soft light illuminated the scene, but when Cara looked up she saw only darkness where the ceiling should be.

Shota strode to the bowl. “I’m going to give you what the Wizard and the Seeker spent hours begging me for. Proof.” She placed her palm lightly on the surface of the water, sending ripples over the surface.

Cara stepped to the edge with crossed arms and peered into the surface. “I don’t see anything.”

Shota’s tone was distinctly annoyed. “Wait.” She whispered a short incantation and withdrew her hand. Smoke curled under the surface and Cara saw images start to form on the water. Smoke rose from ransacked villages. Banelings ran freely through towns, killing at will. The image jumped, and Cara recognized what she’d only seen in pictures and tapestries – Aydindril. The white Confessor’s Palace. It too was overrun. Citizens ran screaming through the streets; a screeling shattered a shop window to land clawing onto a woman’s back. The image jumped again. Cara recognized the People’s Palace. It was still; the streets were choked with bodies. “It is the end,” Shota said softly. “Eventually, everyone will become a baneling. Eventually, everyone’s day will be up, and there will be no lives left to extend their own. It is the end,” she repeated. Although quiet, her voice echoed through the room with an eerie sense of finality.

Cara felt sick. “This is my fault? I don’t understand.”

Shota pursed her lips. “In the original future, although Richard delivered the Stone to the Keeper, Kahlan’s love for the Seeker…” She paused, debating how to continue. Cara could tell she chose her words carefully. “…enabled… victory nonetheless. Without the strength of their love intact, that future–” She nodded her head sharply toward the bowl. “–is assured.”

“There has to be something–”

“There is not. Believe me, I have spent hours in this room tracking and trailing possible futures.”

“Why did you show me this?”

“I felt you deserved it.”

Normally Cara would bristle at such a remark, but the guilt she felt – the guilt Kahlan had repeatedly told her she shouldn’t feel – was back, and it was heavy and oppressive. She could only hang her head and step back from the bowl. “Make her love Richard. Spell her or something,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

“You would give Kahlan up so easily?”

“DO NOT.” Cara stopped herself, bottled the hatred and anger that had siezed her so suddenly. Her hand almost went to an Agiel. She started over. “Do not think for a moment that giving up Kahlan would be easy for me. The future you showed me? Kahlan isn’t alive in that. I can’t accept that. I will do whatever it takes to avert that.”

Shota looked at her, piercing her. Moments went by and Cara evenly returned her gaze. She crossed her arms under her chest, and the motion snapped Shota from her reverie. The witch took a deep breath. “Leave. Wait in the other room.” She raised her palm and placed it over the bowl. Cara noticed it was shaking. “Go.”

* * * * *

Shota emerged through the double doors half a candlemark later. She started pacing the length of the room; after two revolutions she took a deep breath and began. “There is… an ancient spell. The dominion spell. It avails control of an individual’s heart. It was created three thousand years ago as the closest thing normal magic has to confession. It is dangerous, multi–faceted, and quite temperamental. I can perform it on Kahlan, but there are… requirements, and I am not entirely sure it will work on a Confessor.”

Cara paced lines of her own with her hands behind her back. “And this will… save Kahlan.”

“The world,” she corrected. “It is not… strictly assured. It is, however, the only hope we have.”

“What are the requirements?”

“The spell is capable of transferring the love Kahlan feels for you into love for Richard. It will not, however, work if Kahlan does not already love Richard whatsoever.” Shota looked at Cara, her eyes an intense dark. “Does she? It would only take a small amount, if love was so easily measured. A step above affection, one could say.”

Cara swallowed, suddenly feeling very numb. “She does. She doesn’t know it, she doesn’t think she does, but… she does.”

“I’ll need something that Richard values greatly, something to identify him to Kahlan. I will need Kahlan herself, and I will need something from you.”

Cara merely looked at Shota with tired green eyes.

“Complete and utter surrender. Of your love for her. The spell itself will be on Kahlan; it won’t affect you in any way, but you must be willing to surrender your love of her. If you can’t do that, the spell won’t be able to transfer that love to Richard.”

“I will.” Cara heard the words echo, but couldn’t remember speaking them.

“Cara. There’s something else.” Shota’s voice was strangely gentle. It occurred to Cara that Shota had once been young, maybe even loved. “The reason the dominion spell is so dangerous is that it… reaches into the past. Kahlan will not remember time spent with you if that time was spent in love.”

As the last words sank in Cara’s facade of neutrality gave out. She turned away from Shota and felt her breath coming deeper, shakier. She felt her chest clench in agony; her muscles felt weak and her head became dizzy. Her eyes closed and her hand went to her side to grip her Agiel; the familiar pain roared softly in her ears and she focused on it, felt it dull her senses, barely avoiding collapsing to the ground. She headed for the door, toward the cool night air she hoped would clear her mind.

“Where are you going?” Shota asked sharply.

“To say goodbye.” She paused at the door. Not turning around, she asked, “Can you make me forget?”

“I can – easily.” Cara felt her eyes burning into the back of her head. “But is that really what you want?”

Cara bowed her head and stepped forward. She would welcome the pain of remembering. She had gone three steps when Shota called out after her.

“Cara… wait. There are… a couple things you will want to know.”

* * * * *

Her walk under the noon sun back to the clearing, to the others, was entirely too short. She wasn’t prepared to see their inquisitive faces, wasn’t prepared to hear their questions. She stopped just short of earshot and sank to the ground with a tree at her back. Her eyes closed and she pulled her knees to her chest. She wanted to scream; she wanted to vent her pain, her frustration, her rage at the world. She had just learned that she was capable of love and it was being ripped from her. Cara was completely unversed in how to do deal with this… tightness inside, this crushing sense of unavoidable loss. What made it worse was that it had not yet happened; she had a choice. She could choose to die with their love intact. It almost seemed worth it.

No. She forced her muscles into action and rose. She had to do this. For her.

* * * * *

Three heads raised as the blonde stepped into the clearing. Kahlan immediately knew something was wrong; Cara refused to look any of them in the eye. She exchanged a worried glance with Zedd.

Richard was not so observant. “Well? What did she say?”

Kahlan saw Cara’s jaw clench. “She… told me…”

Zedd interrupted. “I think Cara would appreciate some time to organize her thoughts, Richard.”

Cara gave a tight nod of appreciation. An uneasy silence settled over the camp. Kahlan’s brow furrowed as Cara clenched and unclenched her glove–clad hand. It wasn’t long before Cara rose again.

“I’m going hunting,” she stated flatly.

Kahlan watched her blood red leather melt into the green and brown of the forest. “Zedd… “

“She’s going to hunt with her Agiels?” Richard interrupted in disbelief.

Zedd patiently explained. “My boy. Can you, in any way, imagine our Cara saying she needs to take a walk? Besides, there is no game in Agaden Reach. No living creature is here without Shota’s permission and need.”

“Oh.”

Wordlessly Kahlan rose and followed Cara’s footsteps.

* * * * *

She found the Mord–Sith standing in the middle of the clearing Cara had brought them to last night. Her back was turned, arms crossed, and sharp sunlight played over her blonde hair ruffling gently in the breeze. Kahlan walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her close, placing her chin on Cara’s neck. The blonde stiffened, and Kahlan felt her body shake. “Cara?” She felt another shake. “Cara…” She stepped back and pulled her around to see her face. The sight of Cara’s tearstained cheeks burned into Kahlan’s soul. “Oh… Cara,” she breathed, pulling her close again. “What did she do to you? What did she say?”

Cara buried her face in the brunette’s neck. “Don’t ask me that. Please. Don’t ask me to tell you.”

“Alright. I won’t. Cara.” She wrapped her arms around the red leather and one hand came to the back of Cara’s head, softly stroking her hair. She rocked back and forth on her feet as silent tears wracked the Mord–Sith’s frame. “I’m here, Cara… I’m here.”

“Kahlan… kiss me…” The words were choked, mumbled into her neck, but she understood them clearly – both the words and everything between. Cara pulled back to look into her eyes; Kahlan’s heart broke to see the desperation written across her face. She hooked blonde hair away from clouded green eyes and smiled. She didn’t know what Shota could have said to cause so much pain in Cara, but for the moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was making Cara feel her presence. Her Cara. Her mate.

Kahlan placed a soft kiss on Cara’s full lips and was amazed at the change wrought in the woman before her. On contact with her lips, Cara’s body flexed and stood tall, she took a full breath, and her hands found their way to Kahlan’s neck and face. She was afraid to break the kiss, afraid that if she pulled away Cara would collapse. So she held on, as long as Cara needed, exchanging soft, gentle, chaste kisses. When Cara finally had to break away and breathe, heavily, her eyes were no longer clouded. They pierced Kahlan’s gaze with a clear and intense desire. They exchanged heated breaths before colliding again, falling into the grass. This time Mother Confessor straddled Mord–Sith. Lips and tongues met hungrily; needfully. Clothing was shed, and soon Cara was laying naked on the Confessor’s travel dress and corset, gazing up into intense blue eyes. She pushed up, desperate for contact, but collapsed back with a moan on her lips as Kahlan pressed her thigh between Cara’s legs.

Kahlan followed her down and swallowed the sound with her own mouth; absorbed it and treasured it. She felt Cara’s wet heat paint her skin with arousal. Cara slightly raised and locked a knee for her and Kahlan pressed her own moist sex down onto Cara’s thigh, braced herself on the grass, and began to rock gently against the Mord–Sith’s body. Kahlan breathed in the scent of her mate, that scent she had grown to recognize and love. It was hard to distinguish from the smell of leather, but Kahlan had learned it. It was… Cara. She pushed and pulled, sweat slick skin sliding, breasts rubbing. Nipples were taught; nerves on fire from the constant contact and stimulation. Cara’s hands played freely over Kahlan’s body, caressing the flexing muscles across her back and clutching needfully at her buttocks, trying to force her down, aching for more pressure on her scalding wet center. Kahlan stole a look into Cara’s eyes before dropping her head to her neck. She was completely lost. Kahlan kissed and nipped at her neck and shoulder, tasting her, appreciating the feverish warmth of her blushed skin.

“Mark me,” Cara hissed, turning her head to the side. “Make me yours.” Kahlan pushed forward and bit down lightly on the soft skin on the back of her mate’s neck. “Harder.” Kahlan clenched her jaw, but hesitated. “Mark me,” Cara commanded. Kahlan bit down and felt her teeth break skin, felt the tang of blood enter her mouth and spill on her tongue. Cara groaned in the familiar throes of concurrent pain and pleasure. She pulled Kahlan up from her neck by her hair, and the Confessor looked down into green eyes turned wild and dark. Cara hooked Kahlan’s neck with her hand and forced her down, kissing her roughly, forcing her tongue into Kahlan’s mouth. The taste of blood in the throes of passion does something to a Mord–Sith. She surged upward, hands at Kahlan’s back, placing her just so. They sat up now intertwined, thighs locked, and their centers touched. They both felt the scalding heat and wetness, the waves of pleasure rolling through skin and muscle.

Cara began to rock against Kahlan, slowly at first, reveling in the agonizing pleasure of Kahlan’s hot slick flesh stroking against her own heated sex. Kahlan could only gasp as Cara increased her pace and subsequently her breathing; she threw her blonde hair back, wrapped her hand around Kahlan’s neck, and arrested her gaze with thick emerald eyes as she rode against Kahlan’s body, faster, ever faster. Kahlan was in awe of the beautiful creature before her, so loosed in the spasms of pleasure. She was exultant, free, a picture of pure and just desire. Kahlan was feeling no small amount of her own unadulterated pleasure and wonder – she had never imagined experiencing lovemaking like this.

On reaching a fever pitch Cara threw her head back and loosed a howl, her muscles clenching and thighs tightening. Kahlan realized with sudden terror that she was fast approaching her own edge. The sight and feel of Cara’s imminent release called up the darkness in her eyes, and even as she careened off the edge, panic gripped her. She tried to push away, tried to force a scream from her throat, but it was too late. Her mind fought, but she was overloaded with pleasure as Cara gave one final thrust against her body and shuddered before her. Kahlan realized Cara was looking directly into her eyes; she felt her own darken as pleasure and magic welled up within her and they shattered, together, Mother Confessor and Mord–Sith. Magic crackled as the air around them compressed, and Kahlan felt her magic slam into Cara. Her mate. Her beloved.

Part 5

Several moments of terror passed before Kahlan found her voice. “Cara, no. No. No. No…” She repeated the word softly; it became a mantra as she cupped the blonde’s face in her hands. Momentarily Cara’s eyelids fluttered and Kahlan held her breath. Cara didn’t say a word, just held her gaze with her emerald eyes. “Cara…” Kahlan felt tears welling up; she didn’t even try to stop them. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Cara’s voice was thick, unsure.

Kahlan’s brow furrowed. “Are you…”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Cara slurred.

Kahlan was shocked. “You’re not confessed. Are you in pain?”

Cara managed a weak chuckle. “Hardly. That was amazing. Your magic though–” She paused, straightened her back and stretched, naked bronze skin glinting with sweat in the sunlight. She tried to enunciate her words carefully. “–is very, very strong. I’m having trouble with it, just give me a moment.” Her eyes closed in concentration and Kahlan continued staring at her, slackjawed.

“How?”

“Shush,” Cara murmured, eyes still closed. Her hand found her leathers beside them and pawed their way to one of her Agiels. A soft whine filled the air and Cara visibly relaxed. “Much better.” She opened her eyes and her voice cleared. “To answer your question, I have no idea.”

Anger crept through Kahlan’s voice. “You didn’t know? What were you thinking! Did that witch honestly drive you to suicide?”

Cara’s countenance sagged and her eyes darkened; she looked as if the weight of the world had come back to rest on her shoulders. “I asked you not to ask me about that. I had… my reasons. Now you and I…” She crouched up and pecked a kiss to Kahlan’s forehead. “…have very important work to do. We need to get back to Shota.” She threw Kahlan her dampened corset and traveling dress, and starting lacing up her leathers.

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Cara, your neck…” Kahlan’s hand came to her mouth, eyes wide.

She reached back to her neck. Her fingers found sticky dried blood and she smiled in satisfaction.

“Cara, it’s going to scar.”

“That’s the idea.”

* * * * *

Cara was lost in thought on the short walk back to their camp. One of the things Shota had hesitantly shared with her from her doorway was that the spell had an increased chance of working if Cara herself were dead. She knew it would drive Kahlan mad with agony, but only for a short time – Shota was prepared to carry out the spell immediately afterward. Loss of a friend was preferable to loss of a soulmate.

Cara knew she could think of no better end than confession to Kahlan, even with the pain it would bring. She had faced death, and unexpectedly been denied. She still had no idea how or why. An omen… she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, and focused on Kahlan’s dark hair in front of her. Wishful thinking.

* * * * *

“Lord Rahl, I am serious.”

“I’m not giving you my sword!”

Cara loosed an exasperated sigh. Frustratingly enough, his reluctance verified that she had chosen correctly. She looked to Kahlan for help.

The brunette pursed her lips. “You’re sure Shota said she needed the sword?”

“In so many words.”

Zedd paced in the background. “Shota sent the hill people after you two to get the sword. It’s not easily separated from the Seeker, and she needed it to name a new one.”

“And how is that relevant, Wizard? She’s no longer interested in attempting to replace Lord Rahl as Seeker.”

Zedd threw his hands in the air. “Bags, Cara, I have no idea.”

Kahlan sighed. “Alright. Give me the sword; I’ll make sure it gets back to you.”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “Promise.”

“I just did.”

“No, promise.”

Kahlan’s expression was decidedly exasperated. “I promise to keep your sword safe and bring it back to you.” She held out her hand expectantly.

Richard grimaced and placed the hilt of the Sword of Truth in her palm. Kahlan strapped it across her back, then turned to Cara. “Anything else?”

“No.” She paused, faltered, tried to think up a reason for staying, for delaying their return to the witch. She came with nothing, and wordlessly started down the trail. Kahlan followed her.

“Kahlan, be careful,” Richard called.

* * * * *

Weaseling the sword from the Seeker had been a welcome mental distraction; now with every step she took toward Shota the ache in her chest increased. She tried to steel herself against it, her hand resting on the Agiel. It will just be another scar, she told herself. Besides, this was a chance for her to show her strength. There was strength in surrender. She would focus on that. It would have to be enough.

They reached the door to the witch’s lair. Shota was standing just outside, hands clasped in front of her. “You’re late.”

“There were… delays.” Cara was not planning on explaining anything to the witch.

“Come. You’ll need to carry her.” Shota nodded toward Kahlan, who had fallen to the ground in a jumbled heap of limbs and seemed to be fast asleep.

Cara stared at her slackjawed. “Did you have to…”

Shota interrupted her. “No, it is not strictly necessary. However, it is significantly easier for all parties involved. Now come.”

Whispering an apology, she hoisted Kahlan up into her arms and staggered into the keep.

* * * * *

“Now is your chance, Cara,” Shota said quietly. “I wouldn’t begrudge you if you tried to kill me and ran with away with her, to escape your fate. Honestly, I wouldn’t. I was young once. However. If you don’t? Then I thank you, for saving my life and countless others.”

Cara stood silently, looking at her beloved. The soft narrow shaft of light shone on her head, sparkling in her dark hair. Her chest rose and fell slightly, and her face was a picture of peace. There was no hint of the platform and bowl that previously occupied the room; just the solid white raised marble slab whereon the Mother Confessor laid with the Sword on her chest. “She is so… beautiful.” Cara choked on the words. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Stepping back, she crossed her arms and took a deep breath. “Do it.”

Epilogue

Cara sights down her arrow at the doe fifteen paces away. She is silent, as is the cool midnight air. The hunt is her refuge; her escape. The Keeper is defeated; Cara had stood by and watched her agony come to fruition as Kahlan’s sorrow and love for Richard created a new Stone of Tears. They had rejoiced and celebrated, and Cara did her best to smile, to hide the ever constant ache. She forced herself to appear happy for the two when she learned the reason she hadn’t been confessed so many weeks ago. So many weeks of pain. “Just another scar,” she murmurs to herself.

The doe’s ear twitches. It stands stock still for a second, then darts off into the underbrush. Cara watches numbly as the white tail bounces into the darkness. No meat for Kahlan to prepare for tomorrow’s meals. The thought of her name makes the ache flare and she drops to the ground, finding herself kneeling, then placing her forearms on the ground and lowering her forehead to them. A tear drops from her eye to a leaf on the forest floor. It is the only sound in her world besides the raking ragged gasps of breath she takes. Even here, even now, even in her refuge and distraction, she can’t escape the ache. Every night she is haunted by agonizing dreams of those precious few weeks; she wakes in a sweat with her skin burning at the memory of Kahlan’s touch. She always squeezes her eyes back shut, terrified that her gaze will flash over Kahlan.

She has decided to leave Lord Rahl’s side once she has seen them safely to Aydindril’s gates. It is a form of torture she has no defense against to see them together. He had been so unquestioningly receptive when she had showed renewed interest – well, adoration – in him. As far as she knew he never even questioned it. Zedd, as usual, knew something was afoot, but also guessed correctly that he should not interfere. To see the touches and smiles they share – it makes her eyes burn, and the ache flare into full fledged pain. She is broken. She is beyond healing. She knows this; somehow she knows that while the ache might fade, it will always be beneath the surface. She is Mord–Sith; to be in love? To be happy? A dream, a foolish wish. She will never allow hope to conquer her again.

She tries forces the pain down and chokes; she reaches for her Agiel. Sometimes it helps. Now is not one of those times. She raises her forehead, sits up, and sees the full moon set in the tapestry of stars and branches above her. It has been exactly one moon cycle since she ended her life. Kahlan’s love for her.

They were one and the same.

A branch snaps behind her, then another. She rises quickly, Agiels ready, furiously blinking back tears. A white form appears in the shadows. She holsters her Agiels and wipes angrily at her face. She cannot be allowed to see her like this.

“What are you doing out here, Mother Confessor?” She forces her voice to be rough, but it comes out with a much stronger rasp than intended.

“I couldn’t sleep. Cara? Are you alright?”

Kahlan steps forward; her white gown catches a shaft of moonlight and Cara is stricken. She forces words from her throat.

“I am fine.”

“Cara.” Her voice carries a sudden urgency. “I… I had a dream.”

Cara is silent. Words claw at the back of her mind. Shota’s words. The final cryptic message from her doorway. Delivered to her back as she walked away.

One thousand spells, thirty nights, one dream.

Cara’s breath catches in her throat as Kahlan steps closer; she stands directly in front of her. She closes her eyes and tries to quiet the pounding of her heart as Kahlan reaches for her blonde hair and pulls it aside to let the pale moonlight reveal the fresh scar on the side of her neck. She freezes.

“I did this.” Kahlan’s voice is impossibly soft.

“Yes,” Cara whispers.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“No.”

“Cara… I remember.”

Cara cannot move; she cannot speak. She is frozen, rooted to the spot. Kahlan regards her for a moment as if seeing her for the first time. She takes Cara’s face in her hands, and she presses her lips to Cara’s. “I remember,” she repeats quietly.

Cara finds her voice thick as she watches a tear fall from soft blue eyes.

“I missed you.”

~fin.