Of night wisps and other stuff

Pairing: Cara/Kahlan.

A/N: Reply to statuepup's prompt on lots-femslash LJ: C/K, first time, Night of the Wisps.


As the day advances, Cara starts to stomp her feet.

It becomes obvious in her mind that the night wisp must have done something to her.

She does not love Richard. Much less: Zedd. And do not even get her started on the Mother Confessor, the number one enemy to the Mord'Sith.

She most certainly does not care for Kahlan.

Not in the slightest.

She scowls as she keeps advancing.

Maybe she cares a little. A tiny, tiny little bit. But nothing beyond what she would feel for any other fighting partner of Kahlan's calibre, helping her as she is on her mission to protect Lord Rahl.

"Cara," Kahlan calls after the Mord'Sith, as she stops and sits heavily on a nearby rock.

They have been walking all afternoon, and with her ankle, she does not think she can go any further. She has probably overdone it already. In fact, now that she has stopped, she is not sure if she can start again. Her foot feels swollen and she dreads the moment when she has to remove her boot.

Cara turns around. She purses her lips unhappily as she walks back towards Kahlan.

Kahlan can tell Cara's mood has shifted since they met up by the river a few candle marks ago. The open, wonder-stricken look and tremulous smile are gone, replaced by the shut-off expression and frown that are Cara's best mask.

"Maybe you should go ahead, find the others," Kahlan suggests. "My ankle is really swollen. I don't think I can go any further today and I am only going to slow you down."

"Obviously," Cara says.

She does not bother telling Kahlan about how she has promised Richard to stay by her side. Both of them know it is a promise she has not kept anyway.

If she stays, it is not because of Richard.

Cara looks around and frowns, this is not a good place to stop. It is too open to the attack of animals of many kinds: the human one, most particularly.

She remembers that there is a stream east of here, where they will be more protected, as the vegetation is thicker there.

"We should head east. There is a stream nearby where we can camp for the night," she says.

Kahlan shakes her head. "I am not sure I can go any further." She reaches down to rub her swollen ankle. It hurts. "I think I should have stopped a while ago."

Cara stares at her, uncomprehending, hands on hips. "Why did you not say something sooner?"

Kahlan just smiles. "Because."

It makes Cara frown even more. She should give up entirely on ever understanding Kahlan, but for some annoying reason, she cannot. It bugs her, how she feels like there is always a second conversation going on when she talks to Kahlan. One where her answers still make sense, but somehow, different from the one she herself thinks is taking place.

She looks at Kahlan for a moment, calculating: eyes narrowing. She is exhausted after running non stop for nearly two days. A good warrior always knows her strengths and plays to them. But more importantly, a winning warrior knows her weaknesses. She considers her next step carefully for a moment longer before nodding to herself.

"Can you stand?" She asks.

Kahlan nods.

Cara moves her hand, indicating that she should rise, and so Kahlan does, standing on her good leg.

"What-," she starts to ask, but it ends with a yelp as Cara bends down and lifts her over her shoulder, and arm reaching around her legs to hold her firmly, her other hand grabbing onto her arm.

"Cara!" she hisses once she is settled, her body across Cara's shoulders. "Put me down!"

"It is not safe here." Cara answers as she bounces slightly on the soles of her feet, making sure she can carry Kahlan safely, before starting to walk east.

It is a bad idea.

The last thing Cara needs is feeling Kahlan's soft body so intimately pressed against hers. Kahlan's hair tickles her in a way that should be annoying, but isn't. Her scent invades her nostrils until it is all Cara can smell, all she can think of.

By the time she finds the stream, she is almost delirious from the exhaustion of all the running, the emotional high of saving the night wisps, and the no lesser evil of carrying the Mother Confessor pressed against her body for so long.

When she finally lets go of Kahlan, however, she does it gently, making sure that she lands on her good foot and that she sits on a comfortable spot.

She is running on a completely empty tank.

Still, she collects some wood and starts a fire, spreading her bedroll next to an upturned tree that is close by and helping Kahlan to the ground, her back to the tree. Then, she removes Kahlan's boot and re-ties her bandage carefully. Kahlan's ankle is swollen and discoloured but there is not much they can do for it, except rest it.

For a moment, Cara feels guilty that she made Kahlan walk longer than she should have, but she pushes the idea away.

She frowns at Kahlan.

Stubborn woman.

Then, she rummages around her pack for some dry nuts and cheese and finally, very nearly collapses next to Kahlan.

She has not spoken a word except to say yes or no the whole time.

"Thank you, Cara." Kahlan says softly.

Cara only grunts in response.

Kahlan shivers slightly. It is cold and they are both tired.

She leans back, her shoulder coming to rest against Cara's. It is comfortable. She can still feel the ghost of Cara's strong arms around her, carrying her. The memory makes something shift inside her. She eats slowly. She is not hungry but she knows they need to eat and drink.

When they finish the food, she reaches for Cara's hand. It is a sign of how exhausted the Mord'Sith is that she allows it.

"What you did today was amazing." She says. She squeezes her fingers around Cara's.

"I don't want to talk about it." Cara says.

Kahlan shifts slightly, turning to regard the other woman. Cara looks straight ahead, keeping her gaze averted.

"I know you did it for us," Kahlan continues. Then, she reaches with her other hand, tugging at Cara's glove, "for me." Her voice comes out rougher that she means.

"I said I don't want to talk about it." Cara replies.

But Kahlan will not hear it. "You did it because the night wisps mean so much to me, and I want to thank you, Cara." She chides lightly.

She is the Mother Confessor of all the Midlands. She knows truth as other people know the blueness of the sky. She knows what Cara did. What it means. Cara did not care for the night wisps at first. She ran herself to the ground and back because Kahlan wanted to save the night wisp and her babies. Also, because something had happened between her and the night wisp. Kahlan also knows that with absolute certainty, and she wants to know exactly what that thing was.

She finally manages to liberate Cara's fingers from her glove, her cold hand reaching, fingers curling around Cara's soft palm.

"You are cold." Cara says, startled to feel the coldness in Kahlan's digits.

"Your hands are warm." Kahlan answers, blushing slightly for reasons she cannot fully understand. She is just incredibly tired and Cara is here, and she has turned out to be such a mystery, and such a good, caring, friend, and so much less and so much more than what she ever thought Mord'Sith were like. Before she knows what she is doing, her head is resting on Cara's shoulder.

This is why Cara keeps her distance. She has noticed Kahlan's steadily increasing physical closeness. It was bad enough when she only nagged and talked and looked and almost unerringly saw. But now that she is also touching, it is overwhelming for Cara.

She tenses up.

"We should sleep. It has been a long day." She says as she disentangles herself from Kahlan and stands up. She starts to lay out the other bedroll on the other side of the dying fire.

"Cara." Kahlan calls.

Cara looks at her over the fire. It is completely dark now and Kahlan is cast partly in shadows, her blue eyes dark against her pale skin. She is, objectively, the most beautiful woman Cara has ever seen. And it is a thought that would not trouble Cara, because she takes everything and everyone in stride: at face value, but lately, her perception of the other woman's beauty has been accompanied by unpleasant signs that she may no longer be objective when it comes to Kahlan.

Cara rolls her eyes at herself. Not that the wetness and pounding pressure between her legs is a sign that is hard to interpret or that makes her uncomfortable. It is the accompanying pain in her chest that troubles her.

"We are too tired. There is no point in trying to keep watch tonight." Kahlan says.

Cara wants to protest, but it is true.

"You are right." She concedes.

"We should sleep close to each other," Kahlan decides. "That will keep us both protected." She shivers as she smiles sheepishly at the other woman. "And also, warm." The temperature has dropped significantly now that the sun has set and she feels uncomfortably cold.

Cara feels like she should protest, and as before, she thinks there is that second conversation happening. One where she is supposed to say something and avoid lying next to the Mother Confessor at all cost, but she can only hear the other one, the one where everything Kahlan is saying is tactically sound, and it is only reasonable to agree.

"Fine." Cara says as she sets the bedroll next to Kahlan's. She removes her leathers and lies back down, close but without touching her, throwing both of their blankets over the top of them. Kahlan herself takes off her outer jacket and boots, and after a moment hesitation, the rest of her clothing, donning the sleeping shirt she keeps in her pack, glad to be out of her corset for the night.

They are quiet for a bit, but then, Kahlan shifts, moving closer to Cara. As she turns, her knee brushes lightly against the outside of Cara's leg, her hands coming to rest under her chin, her forearms touching Cara's arm and shoulder.

She feels Cara tremble lightly against her, "are you cold?" she asks.

There is no answer, and so she moves closer, her body pressing against Cara's side, her head almost against Cara's, her arm reaching around and coming to rest against Cara's firm, soft, stomach. Almost unconsciously, her fingers splay out, touching the silky skin of the Mord'Sith, starting a motion with her thumb that is almost a caress.

Cara is not cold. In fact, she feels very warm to the touch.

"Did you talk to her?" Kahlan asks. Her voice comes out raspy, like she is out of breath. It is a strange feeling, because, for some reason, she is.

Cara only frowns, turning her head to look at Kahlan. This is not good. They are lying so close that their noses bump slightly and Cara has to move her head a bit away to be able to see Kahlan. "What?" Kahlan has her almost in a daze.

"The night wisp. Did you talk to her?" Kahlan asks.

"No." Cara looks away.

"But you must have," Kahlan insists. "I know you started to understand her. You must have talked to her to keep her alive and well all that way."

Cara is quiet.

Kahlan heaves a long sigh.

Then, she grips Cara tighter, her leg moving over both of Cara's as she rises slightly on one elbow, Cara's hip rubbing against her in a way that makes her gasp softly.

She is not sure how, but she is working herself into a state of great arousal, while Cara appears to mostly be just ignoring her. A pulse starts to beat deep between her legs and she tries to give herself some relief, pressing her hip against Cara.

Cara shifts against her, trying to move away, but she only manages to spread her legs open, a hand reaching to grab Kahlan's hip, trying to keep her at bay. But it is too late, her own move makes one of Kahlan's legs slide and press directly into her centre.

There is no denying the wetness and heat that awaits there.

"You need to move." Cara says. She is concentrating on not moving, on not rubbing herself against Kahlan's thigh.

"Tell me what you and the wisp talked about." Kahlan whispers.

Then, she lowers herself, her body settling more firmly on top of Cara's. One of her breasts comes to rest just against Cara's, her nipples growing hard at the touch. She reaches with a hand that trembles slightly to move some blonde locks of hair out of Cara's face, finally making eye contact with the Mord'Sith.

"Move, Kahlan." Cara growls.

And Kahlan moves.

Just not in the way Cara meant. What she does is rise herself on her forearms and then, lower herself completely on top of Cara, pressing her hips into Cara's, making sure the Mord'Sith is trapped under her.

"Tell me." Kahlan challenges with her whole body as she starts to rock her hips.

Cara arches against her, a low moan escaping her lips.

"What are you doing." Cara nearly pants, her hands moving to the edges of Kahlan's shift, lifting it, dragging the cloth up until her hands rest at her waist. She can feel Kahlan's sex against her own thigh. It only makes things worse, making her even more aware of how swollen she herself has become, how wet Kahlan has made her.

"I don't know." Kahlan answers. She is thinking about the wonder-stricken look Cara gave her a couple of candle marks ago, about Cara asking her to confess her, about the pain between her own legs and how rubbing herself against Cara is the most wondrous feeling she has ever experienced.

"Just let me." Kahlan asks.

She keeps rocking her hips, again and again, finding a rhythm, her head coming to rest against Cara's, cheek to cheek. She is panting softly. Cara's face is soft, her hair tickles her nose and Kahlan turns her face, her lips touching Cara's ear, her hot breath blowing into the Mord'Sith, a pink tongue peeking out, reaching out to get a small taste, lips closing around her earlobe, teeth biting lightly at the skin there.

It makes Cara jerk against Kahlan, her hands moving to her buttocks, grabbing the round mounds and pushing Kahlan roughly against her. "We need to stop," she says, but her body trembles against Kahlan's, arching into the other woman, moving with her.

"What did the wisp tell you." Kahlan insists, her lips caressing Cara's jaw.

Then, she kisses Cara's lips briefly, increasing the rhythm of her thrusts. Cara opens her mouth and whimpers, her fingers clutching at Kahlan's backside, her body arching, her breasts rubbing against Kahlan's, the rough fabric of Kahlan's night shift chafing her nipples.

A terrible pressure builds between her legs, the edge of an unknown precipice approaching faster than she is consciously aware of.

"No," a shudder travels all over her body. "Wait, Kahlan," she almost whines, but it is too late, the rubbing motion of Kahlan's thigh against her sex never stops and entirely too soon, she is coming, her hips jerking against Kahlan, upper body lifting from the ground, neck arching, nails digging painfully into the soft flesh of the confessor's buttocks.

Cara has experienced the kind of pain and pleasure that can knock you out for hours, and make you wake up begging for more.

But she has never experienced this.

Not this warmth.