LOTS - CARA/KAHLAN

A Tear, A Word, A Smile

Dark_Kurai

Title: A Tear, A Word, A Smile

Author: Dark_Kurai

Pairing: Kahlan/Cara

Rating: Uh…PG? Somewhere cruising around that, I think

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but boy do I wish I did.

Spoilers: Up to 2x19, if you can still consider that a spoiler..

Summary: A tear, a word and a smile was all it took.

Warning: German writer here. If anything sounds…weird, blame it on the english school books or me, whatever floats your boat.

Author’s Note: Okay, one, two, three, is this thing on? First time posting here. I hope I’m doing this right..

So there, I finally managed to hijack my muse for a few days and get around my writer’s block. This one can be easily read as a small one shot, but it also acts and might be the prologue to a longer series I would really love to write, although I still want to wait for the finale before getting the kinks out of the storyline. While this one is completely Kahlan–centric, the series will focus more on Cara. I really want to do more fic for them, so I just hope that my natural insecurity and little time I have won’t get in the way.

I wanted to share this with you all as a gift and thank–you for being an awesome fan community and putting up so much effort for a season 3. So, thank you and I hope you like it.

A Tear, A Word, A Smile

Dark_Kurai

A tear, a word and a smile was all it took for Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor herself, to feel her heart get enveloped by the soft and gentle warmth of love for what should have been her mortal enemy, a Mord’Sith. Cara.

Oh, they had been enemies. She remembered the day they had found the blonde woman beaten and bloody on the ground; her first instinct had been to raise her hand in what was like an automatic response drilled into her since the day she realized her power. Raise, hold, release. Her fingers on the bare skin of a throat, her eyes looking into numerous different kinds of faces, her magic bursting out and forward in a rush of relentless energy. It was easy and quick and certainly an instinct reaction every time she saw those women clad in blood red leather. It didn’t help that, so far, each and every of those women had either tried to kill, maim or torture them, so when Richard pulled her back from doing what was only common sense and justice, she wasn’t sure for a second if he really was quite sane anymore.

But the fact that this woman had saved his life stilled the itch of wanting to release her power into that tormenting, proudly smirking monster. At least for a while.

In the end, shockingly, Cara had joined them. Which made Kahlan wary, restless and annoyed, because suddenly not even sleeping close to her beloved let her rest easy with the blonde close by. Cara was withdrawn, obedient and sarcastic most times, but just the fact that she was unable to read anything in those sharp green eyes drove her up the wall. Then the other woman had to slap the fact in her face that she had killed the Confessors and her sister and had the gall to sound like she had done them a favor by killing them swiftly.

So when her hand had closed around the neck of the sentenced Mord’Sith, the murderer of her sweet, loved Dennee, it was almost a relief. She would be able to deal with this sentence – and not revenge, of course, a Mother Confessor was above this – fast and neatly, like always, and even enjoy the few seconds of inhuman pain that would consume the blonde in her death throes. Justice was on her side. Richard would see one day that this was the only possible choice.

Magic licked and fluttered at the edge of its containment inside her soul, desperate and wanting. Up to this day the Mother Confessor had a hard time deciding if the feel of this magic was good or bad, pure or tainted. However much she wanted to justify the rightness of her duty, she could not name if the power had any shade at all. But in this moment she would have welcomed even the darkest of arts to destroy this one human being.

But with this Confessor’s power came another.

And what she saw as truth in the Mord’Sith’s washed out green irises, eyes she should by all means not have been able to read, the color slipping away as if carried away on the glittering tear trailing down the cheek, grabbed hold of her rage and sorrow, pulled them backwards into an opening and slammed the lid shut so hard that they shattered into a thousand painful pieces that stung, but had lost their hold onto something much more important than cold and harsh justice. Something making her worthy to carry the title of the most powerful of all the Confessors.

Kahlan was filled with compassion. Her hand lowered. Her magic howled.

A tear had turned her hate into acceptance.

Pages turned, sun and moon danced their way across the sky many times and before she knew it, a fragile bond of trust had formed between them. They were so different and so alike that Kahlan didn’t need to crane her neck around all the time anymore to look for thugs and banelings attacking her back. Now Cara would be there, moving in a unique combination of ruthlessness and fluid grace, so that Kahlan felt guarded even when battling three or more enemies at once.

It took some time to get used to that new feeling of having a Mord’Sith cover your back, but slowly the Mother Confessor accepted that new–found understanding as what it was and, if forced to admit, even had a certain raised level of respect for the blonde.

They traveled and fought and survived somehow. Remembering Cara saving her in a pink dress was a fond memory that would always manage to bring an amused smirk to her face. Cara’s face wretched in contained agony while watching Leo’s corpse burn was something she would rather erase from her mind forever.

Kahlan didn’t note the change in her acceptance until they were both trapped in a small, soon to be airless tomb and Cara dying suddenly seemed to be an intolerable concept. Sitting on a bench near the seamless brick wall, the Mord’Sith had decided to do something that would have shocked Kahlan back then to the point of falling over. Faced with the inevitable demise and not able to cling to a simple emotion like hope as Kahlan, Cara showed feelings.

“I would like you to know that I consider you a…friend.”

Feeling her throat close up and her lashes turn dark with warm, salty tears, Kahlan reached forward and pulled the strong, fragile woman into her arms, finally acknowledging what had been building up since weeks and what had only been spoken out loud now. She realized the strength in Cara for putting into words what Kahlan had been unable to do, so she tried to convey her thoughts through touch. “I feel the same” by placing her hands on Cara’s back, “You’re not alone” by hugging her close and “I care about you” by not letting go.

Friend.

A word had turned her acceptance into friendship.

They were rescued, again. They had won, again. How many times would they be the lucky ones? How often would they face death and let him slip by just a hair’s breath away? They were alive and for the sake of the world that was what counted right now, but in the back of her mind she knew that one day they would pay the price for those lost on the way. Even if it was just by being plagued by nightmares and guilt.

The road they walked was an unforgiving one, Kahlan realized, when her eyes took in the burned remains of the Night Wisp’s forest, the ashes, the last harshly flickering flames. It was another cruel memory that would stay with her forever and fill her gaze permanent with just another mark of sorrow.

Her rage soothed by killing the soldiers laying the flames, although they only were the fulfilling hand guided and forced by the mind that was Darken Rahl, she soon had her thoughts occupied by another flicker of what she was still trying to desperately cling to. Hope, in the form of a softly chiming blue light, cradled and held safe by the confines of her own fingers.

“I trust you” was what she said when she held the fragile life like an offer of redemption towards the Mord’Sith. And when Cara returned the next day like her night had been a walk in the park with still having time to pluck a few berries and flowers on the way, a proud smirk of accomplishment on her face once she told about her ability to understand the Night Wisp’s language, Kahlan realized that she did trust the blonde. So much in fact, that when Cara went on again to reach the birthing place in time, her heart was emptied of doubt and fear about the magical creatures survival.

Kahlan knew, if it was humanly possible to save the small thing’s life then Cara would do it. If it died, then there would have been no other being in the world more capable of success than her. Not Zedd, not Shota, not even Richard. Not even Kahlan herself.

Pondering for a while if maybe she was in shock over the whole situation, thus making her so calm and focused on hobbling her way through the forest, she almost overlooked the offered hand thrust towards her. After taking in the red leather covering strong fingers for a moment, she mused if it would always be like this – wondering what made her so oblivious to a creature that she would have killed without the blink of an eye nearly a year ago – that said being could appear out of thin air nearby without Kahlan becoming alert to the sound.

Was she so used to having the unwavering steps of the Mord’Sith next to her while walking? Or dancing around while fighting a battle? Or softly circling the camp they made for the night, dry leaves crinkling almost gently under her foot, lulling Kahlan to sleep with their soft assurance of safety?

The fear creeped back into her mind, her eyes seeking Cara’s, scrambling for an answer to what might have happened after they parted. There were words of relief and happiness, but at this very moment, the Mother Confessor was gripped by something stronger than any kind of magic could achieve, least of all her own.

Cara smiled.

It wasn’t like the quick fleeting joy that had nudged the blonde at the possibility of snow, or the captivating quirky smirk she was capable of. No, this was happiness, wonder and a touch of melancholy so profound, that it spread its newborn wings, took a leap and settled in a slow descent somewhere so deep inside of Kahlan where not even the Confessor’s power would ever be able to touch. It found a home, imprinting on her like a warm golden ray of light finding its way through the branches of a tree and changing something fundamental, something immortal, in herself.

Warmth spread, gently and lovingly choking her breath away. For the heartbeat of an eternity, the only reality for her was Cara. No sound, no sight, no feel of the outer world, just Cara and her beautiful, heartbreaking smile and feelings and depths.

A tear, a word, a smile. Such small little things, easily given and easily received by everyone else in the world, but so special when it came from this woman. Kahlan had been shown this little fragments of wonder and she had accepted them, unknowingly keeping them close to her heart like a rare, precious treasure. She felt her own smile blooming on her lips.

A tear, a word and a smile was all it took for Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor herself, to feel her heart get enveloped by the soft and gentle warmth of love for what should have been her mortal enemy, a Mord’Sith. Cara.

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