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When they find the wizard again, alive, Kahlan keeps to him like a shadow.
Cara stays close, walking two paces behind as she always has. She has never been uncomfortable with the knowledge that she is mortal, that one day she will die and there will not be a sister Mord'Sith to bring her back. But now, after the wizard's 'death,' things feel different. When she walks, it's with her bow strung and ready in her hands, vigilant.
A twig snaps, to the left of the path, and Cara looses an arrow without a moment's hesitation.
It's only a rabbit.
Any other time, Cara would be teased. There would be palms on her shoulders - perhaps Richard's, perhaps not - and jokes about her shooting too quickly, reassurances that she did not need to be quite so vigilant.
Now, Zedd looks at her with a gratitude that Cara is sure goes beyond his desire for fresh game for supper, and Kahlan smiles at Cara with shining eyes, almost proud.
It is not the way things should be.
Zedd leaves them, after a time, to seek out the witch. It is a necessary journey - only he can travel to all of the places where witches go, and it is only he who needs to understand her magic. It is a better decision, from every perspective, for Cara and Kahlan to make camp for a few days and wait for his return.
When he tells them that he plans to leave, Kahlan nods and agrees with his decision. She has always been a good judge of tactics, and Cara has always admired her for it.
But as Cara watches Kahlan, from her seat at the fire, she cannot help but notice her eyes, the way they show a weakness that Cara has not seen in her before. It is not her job to care for Kahlan, to fret over her happiness and unhappiness the way Richard so often would. But, for a moment, Cara feels concern.
The morning that the wizard is due to leave, Cara rises with the dawn. She finds him already awake, stirring the embers of the campfire with an idleness that, in a man such as Zedd, can only come from nerves.
As she stretches, moving across the camp to sit next to him, Zedd smiles instead of setting his jaw in discomfort. Cara knows, at once, that he wishes to ask her for something.
"Cara," he says.
His voice is hushed, and his eyes are not on her. Instead, he watches Kahlan, sleeping across the camp. Even at rest, her brow is furrowed into a frown, her hands fisted in her skirts. One does not have to be an expert in human emotion to know that something about her is not right.
"Take care of her," he says. "For me."
It is an order, rather than a request. Were it for anything else, Cara would remind him of the fact that she takes orders only from the Lord Rahl. Because he is asking for this, she nods.
"I think -" the wizard begins, then stops. His voice is heavy with feeling, with worry, and for once, Cara understands. She considers putting her hand on his shoulder, just for a moment. "I think Richard would appreciate it. If you made sure she was alright."
His eyebrows rise, meaningfully, implying more than simply defending Kahlan from attack. Cara does not need the assistance, but she nods obediently, all the same. "I will," she says.
She does not tell the wizard that she had already planned to, before he thought to ask. It does not seem like the sort of thing he would need to know.
When they part ways, later that day, the wizard places a hand on her shoulder and nods as though they are friends. Cara understands that the gesture is for himself, and not for her - that he is looking for reassurance that Kahlan will be alright in his absence.
She bristles at his touch, all the same.
When he and Kahlan embrace, it's a little too long, seems a little too much like a goodbye.
After he is gone, Kahlan turns to Cara, trying to smile - trying to be strong. It is the first time that Cara has looked into Kahlan's eyes, and seen fear.
Cara has never thought of people in terms of families - as a Mord'Sith, the world is divided into sisters and not-sisters.
But she thinks she can understand, how Richard and Zedd might feel like a sort of one. It is the only way Cara can think of, to explain the lost look in Kahlan's eyes once Zedd leaves, and it is just them. It tugs at Cara, in a way that she does not wish to examine, making her feel unsettled by proxy. She jumps at every rabbit and sparrow that passes their camp.
Kahlan does not wish to fight, and Cara can tell that she would not react well to being seduced, so she does not try.
Cara does not know how to solve this, and knowing that sets her on edge.
The worst part of this - aside from the silence, the way Kahlan presses her fingertips to Richard's sword for reassurance, the look in her eyes - is that Cara cannot find ways to be calm.
There is no way to fight without a partner.
There is, of course, another way for release, one that Cara can find alone. She does it exactly once, disappearing into the woods with a smile and a hand on Kahlan's shoulder, as though she'll be back soon.
She is not away for more than an hour.
When she returns, sated and at peace with her place in the world once more, she realizes immediately that she has made a mistake. Kahlan stands to meet her, eyes filled with concern bordering on fear, and she pulls Cara into a hug before she can think, before either of them realize what she is doing.
She pulls away just as quickly, cheeks pink, eyes downcast. Kahlan does not speak, but Cara understands just the same, and it unsettles her. The Mother Confessor should not be afraid to be alone.
All the same, Cara does not leave again.
They pass the time, with conversation and with sleep and with chores. Cara mends the frayed edges of her saddle, sets snares for game, brushes her horse until it gleams. Kahlan prepares the rabbits Cara catches, finding herbs for soup and ways to preserve the meat, until the clearing they've marked as their camp smells like something in Cara's past that she refuses to remember. It's very similar to the way that things have always been, between them.
But Cara cannot fail to notice Kahlan's eyes, and the way that they grow darker, more haunted, with each passing day. I hope Zedd is alright, she finds herself saying, and it's a shock to realize that she means it.
If Zedd isn't alright, Cara is not sure what she will do.
It's the fourth night after Zedd's departure, when Cara wakes in the dark.
There's a sound, behind her. She reaches for her Agiels in silence, half-asleep. It's not until moments later, when she hears the noise, that she understands what has happened. It's a sound that Cara would recognize anywhere; the sound of small, frightened girls before they become Mord'Sith. The sound of a person nearly broken and ready to be taught.
Kahlan is crying.
Cara's instinct is, of course, to give Kahlan her dignity. To ignore it, and hope that in the morning, Kahlan has found her strength once again. But something in her resists. It sounds suspiciously like Zedd's voice in the back of her mind, murmuring take care of her like a warning.
Cara has no way of doing it, no skill to help her start. For the first time in a long while, she feels helpless.
She is still for a moment, listening to Kahlan's breathing, shaky and tearful. When she can no longer stand the heavy, twisting feeling near her heart, she rolls over.
"Kahlan," she says. "I can't sleep."
Kahlan freezes, caught, eyes wide with embarrassment and shining with tears. She seems about to speak, to try to explain herself, but Cara does not allow it.
"I'm upset," Cara says. "About Zedd. I'm worried that something might happen to him." It is not entirely an untruth. "What do you suggest I do?"
Kahlan's expression changes. Instead of the one that Cara has ben watching with concern for the past week, her face shows gratitude, something close enough to happiness that it counts. Cara knows that she has done something good, and it fills her with pride.
"Here," Kahlan says, moving closer to Cara. Her voice is decisive once more, gently commanding, the way that the Mother Confessor should be. "Roll over."
Cara does, with all the patience she can summon in the middle of the night. She feels Kahlan move behind her, shifting, and Cara is not sure what she has planned until Kahlan fits her body against Cara's from behind. Cara can feel the softness of her breasts, even through leather and cloth, the way Kahlan's legs tangle with hers. It is not unpleasant.
Kahlan's arm slides across her waist, and she presses her palm to Cara's hips in a gesture that only she could make chaste. It makes Cara feel warm, protected in a way that she did not know she missed. It makes her think of nights at the temple, the ways that she and her sisters would keep each other warm. Kahlan draws Cara closer, and Cara allows it.
"Go back to sleep," Kahlan says, voice nearly a whisper, and they both know that she is not speaking for Cara's benefit. "Zedd will be fine." Then, even more quietly, "Richard will be fine."
"Thank you," Cara says, surprised by the way her voice shakes.
It is a long while before Kahlan's breathing steadies, then slows into sleep, her arm heavy across Cara's side. It's only then that Cara moves away, and allows herself to rest.
The next morning, when Cara wakes, it is to Kahlan's palm on her shoulder and a smile.
"Good morning," Kahlan says. "There's breakfast."
Cara understands it for what it is meant to be - an expression of gratitude.
That evening, they lie together, side by side in the dark. Neither of them are asleep.
There's a tension, one that sets Cara on edge, as Kahlan rests beside her, silent in a way that means she is awake. Cara is reluctant to offer comfort, but there is a part of her that feels as though she should.
Kahlan coughs and draws in breath, as though about to say something. Cara can foresee the conversation - the discussion of the way that Kahlan feels, airing the tension and hurt that she can see behind Kahlan's eyes, just below the surface. She does not think she can stand it. So, deliberately, Cara wraps her fingers around Kahlan's wrist, and slides closer.
Kahlan understands.
She presses her front to Cara's back, as they did the night before. Her mouth is pressed to the top of Cara's head, her fingers curling against Cara's hip, and Cara thinks about how she would not mind, if this were familiar.
"Thank you," Kahlan whispers, barely audible against Cara's hair.
After the second time, it becomes a habit.
They settle into a routine, one that makes Kahlan calmer, her eyes a little less haunted as they sit together at the fire, thighs touching. She smiles more often, and Cara finds that she prefers that to the times when she looks like she's fretting, the times when she curls in on herself and cries.
She finds that she begins to enjoy the way that Kahlan can rest her hand against the curve of her spine, and make her shiver.
When Zedd returns, things change once more.
When he is with them, Kahlan no longer pulls Cara close, on instinct. They no longer settle to fall asleep together, all pretense aside, with Kahlan's arm wrapped around Cara's hips and her nose pressed to the base of Cara's skull.
Cara notices the way that the night is a little colder without the warmth of Kahlan's body beside her.
It is - and should be - true that a Mord'Sith needs nobody but her sisters. But for some reason, Cara feels the loss of her.
With Zedd in their camp once again, urging them to find a new Seeker, taking them across rivers and mountains, Kahlan changes more and more. She does not speak to Cara as often. She no longer smiles at Cara over the midday meal, blushing as though the time they spent pressed close the night before was secret, intimate.
Cara finds herself hoping that Kahlan will speak to her, missing her company and the smell of her skin. She hates it. She prays for battle, a disagreement, something into which she can channel feelings that she neither needs nor wants.
After three days of peace that set Cara's teeth on edge, she relents.
As they lie down for the night - Zedd snoring on one side of the fire, Kahlan curled into herself and wide awake on the other - Cara moves her blanket next to Kahlan's.
It feels like a betrayal of her training, a loss of something important to being a Mord'Sith. She puts that from her mind, and shifts until they are facing each other, scarcely an arm's reach away. "Kahlan," she says, feeling sick. She is disappointed with herself for doing this, but she cannot endure the alternative any longer. That disappoints her, as well. "Have I done something?"
Kahlan stares for a moment, clearly lost in thought, and Cara is forced to wait before she says, "No." She seems confused, caught off guard, and slowly - visibly - she begins to understand what Cara is asking. Her voice softens. "No."
Cara cannot ask why. She cannot probe further, tease out the reasons that are making Kahlan shy away from her. Those are questions for someone beneath her, questions for a mere woman, and her pride forbids asking altogether. She looks away, unsure of how to proceed.
Kahlan moves closer, reaching out to Cara, as though she has already asked. "I just -," she whispers, palm pressed to Cara's cheek like a lover's. "I can't. You're -"
Kahlan turns away, and rolls over. Cara does not press the matter. She does not understand why Kahlan is suddenly shy, does not know if the word she cannot bring herself to say is Mord'Sith or Cara or a woman. In any case, the reason hardly matters, because the look in Kahlan's eyes explains enough.
It had never occurred to Cara that there might be shame in this.
The next day, Kahlan tries to catch her eye over the morning meal. The smile on her face is hopeful, guilty, and Cara knows that Kahlan is searching for understanding, hoping to atone. She keeps her eyes on her plate, and refuses to meet Kahlan's gaze.
Kahlan tries again at the midday meal, and again in the evening. Cara notices, as she always does, and does not return a single smile. She is not anybody's secret, nor is she something to be ashamed of.
Kahlan deserves her guilt.
That night, Kahlan sets her blankets next to Cara's, as she did before Zedd returned.
It is a gesture, and Cara knows that a nice person would do something in return, perhaps express some sort of gratitude. Cara is not grateful, and she has had little success with niceness. She stays where she is, curled onto her side, and does not move as Kahlan lies down, facing her.
But when Zedd's breathing turns to gentle snoring, Kahlan rests her hand on Cara's arm. The look in her eyes is repentant, almost shy, as she watches Cara's face. If Cara did not know better, she would indulge it.
"Cara," she says, in a voice that seems far too small. "I'm worried about Richard."
Kahlan smiles at her, hopeful. Her meaning is clear. This is not about Richard, at all. This is about Cara, an apology, and the gesture makes something inside her soften.
It is very nearly enough.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Cara says, in a voice that is not as hard as she had hoped.
She does not roll over. She refuses to allow Kahlan the opportunity to move closer, to wrap around her back as though she has been forgiven. Kahlan smiles, as though she knows something that Cara does not.
She falls asleep with her hand on Cara's arm, and Cara does not move away.
The next night begins in the same way. Kahlan rests beside her, too close, and Cara watches, wary.
As Zedd begins to snore on the other side of the fire, Kahlan reaches out to Cara, silently, and presses her fingertips to Cara's hip. She is watching Cara's eyes, showing Cara something open and unguarded, allowing her to see something important.
Neither of them speak, but Cara understands. She moves her body closer to Kahlan's.
Kahlan's fingers slide to her waist. Her eyes are wide, expression open, and Cara finds herself drawn to it despite herself.
Kahlan's fingertips are shaking as she slides her hand to Cara's shoulder, the curve of her jaw, finally fitting them against the base of Cara's skull and tangling them in her hair. She does not tug, but Cara moves her head nearer as if she had.
When Kahlan presses her forehead to Cara's, the look on her face is so naked, so full with desire and guilt and shyness and a hundred other things, that Cara can no longer be angry.
They kiss, and it feels like an apology. It feels like something else, too, tight in Cara's chest, as though she cannot help but absorb some of the things she sees in Kahlan's eyes. It is a cost she can allow.
"I accept," Cara murmurs against Kahlan's mouth.
"What?" Kahlan says. She pulls away to look into Cara's eyes, as though that will help her, and the bewilderment in her expression pulls affection from Cara that she does not wish to give.
"Your apology," Cara says. "I accept."
Kahlan shakes her head, smiling, as though Cara is something dear. "Good," she says, breath hot against Cara's mouth, and kisses her again.
Cara wakes the next morning with her hand resting against the curve below Kahlan's back and Kahlan's hand in her hair, and the wizard stirring the embers of the fire, watching them. When she rises, careful not to wake Kahlan, he gives her a look. As though he wishes her to know that he is aware of her villainous intentions toward his Confessor.
She does not mean to grumble at him quite the way that she does, but it takes all of her self-control not to reply to him with her Agiels.
They find the new Seeker, and Cara worries for a full day about whether or not things will change, again.
She does not know when she became the type of person who allowed herself the luxury of worry, and that is something to think about, as well.
It would not be so bad, she thinks, if Kahlan no longer wished to act as something like her sister, no longer sought her comfort in the dark. Leo is clumsy, but strong, and Cara is confident that he could be taught to please her in his own way.
That night, Leo makes her laugh.
She feels out of balance. There is a part of her that enjoys the affection, his clumsy efforts at flirting with her as though she is a common tavern wench, his equal or lesser. His heavy-handed advances are almost sweet, in a way, and the possibility of regular sexual satisfaction is more than tempting. But then, there is a part of her that does not wish for things to change at all. The part of her that was just growing accustomed to the slow, unfulfilled ache between her thighs, whenever Kahlan's palm rests against her belly, her breasts, in the dark.
As she leaves Leo on watch, returning to her place next to Kahlan, she cannot decide which is the right course to take. Vaguely, she thinks back to the time when she acted with clarity, when her thoughts were sure and uncluttered and her own. It feels more distant than she would like.
Kahlan speaks, from behind her. "I've never heard you laugh before."
There is something Cara cannot place in her voice, and it only adds to her confusion. Her voice is sharp as she answers, "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
And then she lies down next to Kahlan, and Kahlan puts her arm around her from behind, bending at the elbow so that her palm fits against the curve of Cara's breast, just so. "I like it," Kahlan whispers into her ear, warm breath against her neck, making her shiver.
"Hmm," Cara says, voice barely loud enough for Kahlan to hear, as she curls hand around Kahlan's and presses down. "Maybe you should tell more jokes."
Kahlan squeezes, nails digging into skin and leather, digging in until Cara gasps. "Maybe I will," she says, and Cara hears it for the challenge that she knows it to be.
She rolls over, pressing her lips to Kahlan's, hard, until Kahlan's hands clutch at her back and she's breathless, barely quiet. They stay like that, panting, pressing together for long, lazy kisses that leave Cara throbbing with want, desperate for Kahlan to break her ridiculous code of chastity, just this once, for her.
It feels like hours before sleep finally claims them both.
Yet somehow, like this, everything feels exactly as it should.