All this Outlaw Queen/Swan Queen infighting is making me miss Legend of the Seeker
Because in OUAT fandom, I think two people unfollowed me just for posting a picture of Robin Hood with a mocking joke. It’s like
"I ship Emma with Hook!"
"I ship Emma with Regina!"
While in LotS fandom, it was like
"I ship Kahlan with Richard!"
"I ship Kahlan with Cara!"
And when LotS threw random love interests at Cara, they were both male AND female.
The world was safe. Richard and Kahlan were married. Cara couldn’t sleep.
She’d been restless for a while, but it wasn’t until Zedd spoke to her that she actually stopped going to bed. It was after some silly argument with Kahlan—something about a handsome general whose eye Cara had caught. The Mother Confessor wanted Cara to be wooed like a common village girl. As if Cara could ever be that again.
Their words became heated, as they’d often seemed to since Kahlan became the Lady Rahl, and Cara finally stormed off to hunt something. Of course, Richard’s new palace grounds were devoid of decent game.
When she got back, Zedd was waiting for a word with her. It was too much to hope that a spell had gone astray or a monster needed killing. No, he wanted to talk about her feelings. She was capable of having feelings. She could be almost normal.
Why she would want to be he never explained. He just told her about Dahlia. He thought Cara had been in love with Dahlia. And the horrible thing was that Cara didn’t know if he was wrong.
More of her life stolen. Darken Rahl had taken his piece and now the Seeker had his own.
Ever since watching Mistress Nathair die—being glad her sister was dead, an emotion unthinkable even a minute before it had happened—Cara had felt her foundation cracked. There was guilt there. Her life, one she would’ve chosen a thousand times over, was based on a lie, and as much as she could not regret her fate, her acceptance of it had been irrevocably damaged. All the people she’d hurt, all the orders she’d carried out—it was all fruit from a strange forest. No way to tell what was poisoned and what was good.
She didn’t know what to do with this weakness. She could not suborn it in Richard Rahl’s will, as reluctant as he was to accept her to begin with, and so it festered. She didn’t know how to fight it. She didn’t know how to surrender to it. Cara merely suffered it, like a chronic illness. It came and went without her consent.
The brothel brought her fully back to herself. She couldn’t rightly feel the will to dominate that was the Mord’Sith, not when her prey were victims as much as her. There would always be an anguish there. But not with Denna. Seeing her after so many years, Cara felt the need to prove her supremacy. No guilt. No conflict. No indecision. Just a contest of wills between equals, a way to prove herself without the maddening anxiety nestled at the core of her.
Cara didn’t know why she kept coming here. It was a painful memory, after all. Or it should’ve been. A time when she was a child, unable to defend herself. Not yet strong, not yet Mord’Sith. Still such a fool as to believe her father would never betray her.
But the memory seeped into her nonetheless. It comforted her, even when she didn’t want it to, didn’t need it. Herself, short and small, playing with Grace, slightly less tiny. A rare memory unconnected with her treacherous family; he’d been away a few days on business, so it was just her and Grace and her mother. Nothing to be tainted by the traitor. Just the sun and the river and the tall grass that rippled against their skin as they ran through it, the animals and the wooden toys and the village boys who chased them and the chickens in the coop that they chased and the birds singing and the leaves falling and the river’s cool water and…
Cara was drawn out of her remembrance slowly, like poison from a wound. Not shocked out of it, like the Agiels had done when she’d tried to block out her training. No, she was lured. Pulled away by the teasing pain of Denna’s fingers on her body.
As she hung from her chains, her nakedness only hidden by the dim light, Denna smiled up at her. Enjoying the irony that Cara could only look down at her because her manacles had been hoisted so high.
“Where did you go?” Denna asked, in a voice that was sickly sweet compared to the rough tones of any other Sister of the Agiel.
Whooooooo wants to beta a Cara/Denna fic? It’s naughty.
Who wants to beta a Denna/Cara story?
"What did you do?" Cara demanded. Zedd and Richard both had that look, Richard preparing himself to be weathered by her sarcasm, Zedd already presumptuously dismissing it.
And Kahlan just stood between them, trying to be serene, but clearly bothered. Even the sight of her red dress, the color and cut of the Lady Rahl, couldn’t divert Cara from her distress.
"It was a simple magical spell, an easy task for a wizard of my talents!" Zedd started. Presumptuously.
"Zedd," Richard said, with barely enough reproach for Cara’s taste.
"It was meant to allow Kahlan to control her Confessor’s gift without such… inner struggle. If it had worked as it was meant to, there would be nothing keeping her and Richard apart, but… oh, the damned translation must’ve been off by a few words. It was a translation of a translation, really, High D’Haran into Arcadian and then into…”
Cara was glaring, very unimpressed, from Richard to Zedd to Kahlan, and when the women’s eyes met, Kahlan sighed and pulled her skirt aside.
It’d been a while since Cara had seen a man naked, but she hadn’t forgotten what their appendage looked like, and she knew Kahlan shouldn’t have had one. Especially so much of one.
"Why, Mother Confessor…" Cara said slowly. "You’ve very blasé about public nudity at the moment."
"It’s not mine, I don’t see why I should be ashamed of it. I just want it gone.”
Richard cleared his throat, trying to look away. “We thought since… Cara, since you’re a Mord’Sith and able to trap magic, you might be able to…”
"I’ll need to take her to the Mord’Sith temple," Cara said. "And we mustn’t be disturbed."
"Will it take long?" Richard asked, clearly ruing time apart from Kahlan.
Cara smirked. “We’ll see.”
Richard and Kahlan hugged, as they always had to before being separated, but this time it ended with Richard jumping back.
"It… rose," he said.
"Cara, let’s go!" Kahlan said loudly.
As Mistress of the Agiel, Cara went first. As Kahlan smiled in approval, she spun the bottle, trying to look at least moderately involved. When it landed on Denna, she cracked a smile.
"I am yours to command, mistress," Denna drawled, in that tone only Mord’Sith seemed to be capable of.
"Go fuck yourself."
With an eloquent eyebrow raise to critique Cara’s creativity, Denna pulled off one glove.
"Wait!" Kahlan said. "You don’t have to do that!"
"The rules say she does," Dahlia said, eager to see Cara get her way.
"You can also accept a question."
"We are Mord’Sith. We will not back down from any dare." Denna broke her belt and slid her bare hand underneath. "Besides, I have urges no one here could satisfy."
Dahlia was next. She spun as Denna lazily explored herself. It landed on Kahlan, who groomed herself a little for her first go. “Truth.”
"Have you ever been attracted to a woman?"
Kahlan sputtered. “That’s… awfully personal.”
"It isn’t called idle conversation and inconvenient tasks," Triana said snidely.
"Very well. Yes. I have."
"I finished my question," Kahlan said smugly, crossing her arms.
Triana spun the bottle. It landed on Kahlan. Her face fell.
"Truth?" Triana asked, even more smug.
"Yes," Kahlan growled. She’d be damned if she was going to back down before a Mord’Sith, even a friendly one.
"What women were you attracted to and when?"