Title: Magic is...
Author: alyse
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairings: Gen
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2,138
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker (TV) belongs to ABC Studios/Disney. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.
Author's Notes: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
onceuponaland Secret Santa 2011 for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
borg_princess. Merry Yule! Many thanks to ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aithine for the beta.
Summary: Magic is as magic does.
-o-
Cara is Mord Sith. She has been formed with fire and with pain, tempered like the sharpest of steel, and she is proud of that, proud of the traditions of her Sisterhood and the strength with which they have imbued her. She learned to withstand pain when she was nothing more than a slip of a girl, all eyes and a heart too big for her frame. She has been shaped and moulded by a careful hand to be stronger than any other, to be fierce and focused, to be unforgiving and unyielding. She has borne the sting of an agiel more times than she can count, felt its touch and embraced it gladly, knowing that it would scour her clean, make her stronger, make her new.
Although perhaps, she thinks, as well as using the agiel to train their charges, the Mistresses in the Temple where she was trained should have considered the use of Confessors in their syllabus. If they had, then maybe Cara would have been prepared for this.
"Please, Cara," Kahlan says, and if she stops short of fluttering her eyelashes at Cara it's only because even Kahlan has to acknowledge that such subterfuges are beneath the dignity of the Mother Confessor. Or perhaps it's just that Kahlan doesn't think that it would work, which is the more probable explanation.
Of course, it would be easier to bear this whole rigmarole if Cara was just as convinced that it won't.
She's not, but when she looks to Richard for support - for any support, whatsoever, because by this stage in the proceedings, Mord Sith or not, Mistress or not, Cara is pretty much at breaking point - Richard simply looks back at her innocently. He's trying for impassive, she can tell that from the way that the corner of his mouth twitches, but Richard is completely incapable of actually hiding what he's feeling. Normally that gives Cara an edge when dealing with the Lord Rahl, but then normally whatever emotion that Richard's feeling doesn't fall within the range of 'amusement at Cara's expense'. Or at least, not very far within that range and not for very long if he knows what's good for him.
This time, however, it seems to fall somewhere slap bang in the middle.
"Please?" Kahlan repeats, and - may the Keeper damn her soul for all eternity - she adds a winsome little smile into the mix.
This is all the Wizard's fault, Cara thinks darkly, taking a brief moment to imagine every single thing she's going to do to Zedd when she gets her hands on him. If she gets her hands on him - for once, Zedd is noticeable in his absence, and Cara would bet good D'Haran gold that it's because he's decided to make himself scarce. He's not that much of an old fool, and he can be remarkably nifty on his feet when the situation calls for it, and this situation most definitely calls for him to be out of Cara's reach. A long way out of Cara's reach.
She glances at the door, but it's just a shade too far. Kahlan is quick and Richard quicker still, and Cara is damned sure that even if she broke for freedom now, one or the other of them would reach her before she could reach the door and the tenuous safety it offers (tenuous because Kahlan can be tenacious and while that can be a good thing and something that Cara would wholeheartedly support, on this occasion it's not and she definitely doesn't).
Plus, if it's undignified for a Confessor to beg, how much more undignified would it be for a Mord Sith to run?
She won't run, she decides. She'll simply stalk out, head held high and...
And then Kahlan flutters her eyelashes. Just a little, just so that Cara notices but not enough that Kahlan couldn't deny it if challenged. Which is completely unfair of her, but then Cara really shouldn't be surprised by that. Richard's the one who insists on playing fair - Kahlan's much too sensible to insist on it and, apparently, far too sneaky to think it applies to her.
Cara huffs out a breath, loud and impatient, her look of disgust managing to encompass both Kahlan and that traitor, Richard. "Fine," she snarls, holding out an imperious hand and gesturing for Kahlan to hand over what she's currently got clutched close to her chest.
"Oh, Cara!" Kahlan gushes, and there is no doubting whatsoever that she's gushing. Cara narrows her eyes at Kahlan, because if there's one thing that Kahlan would never do - should never do - it's gush. Perhaps she's not Kahlan. Perhaps this is some plot of Shota's to replace Kahlan with some superficial look-alike, someone with no sense and no sense of style, either. For a split second Cara can feel something oddly like hope rising in her chest, but the devilish light in Kahlan's eyes is too familiar to be faked, and the small smile playing around her lips is all Kahlan and no one else.
Cara narrows her eyes further, twitching the cloth out of Kahlan's hands and holding it up in a way that leaves no doubt as to her opinion of it.
It has ruffles.
"Fine," she bites out again, and this time the word escapes through gritted teeth, dripping with all of the venom of which she is capable. Which is a lot, given how much practice she's had over the years. "If it's that important to you, and to the Lord Rahl," Richard grimaces as his title hits home, a clear indication that Cara is Not Pleased with him, "then I will wear the damned dress. Just this once and under protest, is that understood?"
Kahlan positively beams at her and, in that split second where Kahlan's whole face lights up, Cara's displeasure starts to waver for, oh, at least a second before she drags herself, kicking and screaming, back to her senses. "You'll still be able to fight in it," Kahlan wheedles, all practicality now that she's got her own way. When Cara glares at her, a look that is all mingled disbelief and irritation, Kahlan shrugs smoothly, shooting Cara another smile, one that's warm and pleased, and therefore immediately puts Cara on guard, wondering what else is coming. "You managed to do that just fine in Rothenberg," she adds, "and that dress wasn't as... freeing. Her voice is just as warm as her smile, and far too bright. The laughter dancing in Kahlan's eyes, however, is real.
Cara narrows her eyes at Kahlan so much it's a wonder she can see out of them at all.
"I am wearing this damned dress under protest," she repeats, loudly and clearly in the hope that maybe it will get through. As if.
Kahlan's cheek dimples, dimpling even further when Cara merely scowls in response. "You'll look lovely," Kahlan says.
"More to the point," Richard adds, and he's doing a very good job of hiding his laughter, although his eyes are dancing a little too much - enough to have Cara's fingers itching for her agiels at least, "you won't look like a Mord Sith."
"I am Mord Sith." The protest is automatic, as is Richard's little eyeroll. Cara decides that she's had enough of narrowing her eyes at Kahlan - especially as it doesn't seem to be having any effect - and narrows them at Richard instead. Not that it has any effect on Richard, except to have his mouth curl up a little bit more at the corners.
"Wearing a dress won't change that, Cara," he says patiently, and Cara wonders idly if perhaps Richard needs a little refresher course in exactly what 'Mord Sith' means, possibly one delivered by an agiel. An agiel shoved right up his...
"Cara, my dear girl!"
Talking of things that need agieling... There's Zedd, bang on cue.
She turns her head slowly, treating Zedd to the same narrow-eyed look that had failed to work on either Richard or Kahlan. It doesn't work on Zedd either, and she's beginning to think that she's losing her touch.
"Are we not ready yet?" he asks, and the only thing that saves him from an immediate agieling is that Cara is rendered speechless by his outfit. And she thought hers was bad - about the only thing she can say about Zedd's is that at least this time he's not wearing a dress. Although, given the way he currently looks, perhaps that would be an improvement (and he does have the legs for a dress, not that Cara would ever admit that). She's not entirely sure where he got the sparkly things he's attached to his robe, or the stupid hat he's wearing, but the overall effect is... special, to say the least.
"What are you?" she asks, giving him the once over and not bothering to hide her raised eyebrow, or her amusement. "The entertainment?"
It rolls off Zedd like water off a duck's back. In fact, he beams at her, and his smile is almost as wide as Kahlan's had been. "That's right. I'm resurrecting Ruben Rybnick for the evening." She gives him a blank look and his smile widens into something both self-satisfied and nostalgic, which is a feat in and of itself. "He's a world-renowned puppeteer, my dear, with tricks and marionettes to delight both the young and young-at-heart."
And then he treats her to another smile, one that immediately puts her on her guard. "And by 'tricks' I mean, of course, magic tricks." Of course he does, which means she's due another evening of so-called 'entertainment' involving grown men pulling rabbits out of a hat. At least this time the evening won't end with her stuck in a tomb with Kahlan while some mouldering monster stalks the land, killing the unrighteous and unwary.
She hopes. And even if it does, well... manipulation into wearing a dress aside, there are few people she'd rather be trapped with than Kahlan.
But it wouldn't do to be gracious about being forced into attending this evening's entertainment, especially not while wearing a dress. As far as Cara is concerned, Zedd is much too fond of the whole disguise thing, and she's still not sure why the rest of them have to suffer along with him.
"I'm not giving up my evening to watch you prance about a stage, waving your arms about and making trinkets disappear," she says flatly. "I'll make my own entertainment, thank you very much, and it will involve getting information another way." She pats her agiels pointedly and smirks at Zedd.
"Oh, you won't be watching, Cara," he says. "You'll be my assistant for the evening, my dear."
"Your what?" Her smile slides away from her face and hides.
"My assistant," he repeats, and gives Kahlan a little frowning look that immediately sends a fierce foreboding through Cara, one that only grows when Kahlan gives Zedd a delighted little twitch of the mouth in return. "Why else would we give you that particular outfit?" Zedd continues, glancing between the pair of them.
That particular...
She shakes it out and finally - finally - looks at it, too late. It's even shorter than she feared - it will barely come past her knees - and while it's red like her leathers, her leathers definitely do not sparkle.
"I am not wearing this... this... this monstrosity," she manages to get out before words fail her entirely and she's left shaking the garment at Zedd in something close to speechlessness. She can't even be angry - it's too absurd a thing to be angry about because it's too absurd a thing to be real. She is Mord Sith and Mord Sith do not wear sparkly frocks, no matter how much Zedd is a frustrated thespian!
Zedd pouts at her. "But it's traditional," he says as though that's supposed to be a good reason for her not to cut all of his fingers off. (See if he could do some card tricks then!)
"Put it this way, Cara," Richard interjects soothingly, and his tone simply increases her ire. He knew. Both of them knew, and yet neither of them told Zedd that it was perhaps his stupidest idea yet. "You don't need to worry about whether or not you'll be able to fight in it, and you'll have easy access to your agiels in that... outfit." Richard's mouth twitches again as he tries - and fails - to keep his amusement in check.
Easy? There's only one possible response to that.
She's Mord Sith, which means that she has some magic tricks all of her very own. The only difference is that hers involve the sudden appearance of a great deal of pain before she takes her final bow and disappears.
And there won't be any pulling of her out of a hat.
The end
I made you some headers for your LJ, together with matching icons. The headers are thumbnails, so if you click on them you should get to the full sized images in LJ's scrapbook (you may need to click more than once :)) Also, please let me know if you'd like to know how to rotate your headers - I can show you how to do that :)
Author: alyse
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Pairings: Gen
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2,138
Disclaimer: Legend of the Seeker (TV) belongs to ABC Studios/Disney. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.
Author's Notes: Written for the
onceuponaland Secret Santa 2011 for borg_princess. Merry Yule! Many thanks to aithine for the beta.Summary: Magic is as magic does.
-o-
Cara is Mord Sith. She has been formed with fire and with pain, tempered like the sharpest of steel, and she is proud of that, proud of the traditions of her Sisterhood and the strength with which they have imbued her. She learned to withstand pain when she was nothing more than a slip of a girl, all eyes and a heart too big for her frame. She has been shaped and moulded by a careful hand to be stronger than any other, to be fierce and focused, to be unforgiving and unyielding. She has borne the sting of an agiel more times than she can count, felt its touch and embraced it gladly, knowing that it would scour her clean, make her stronger, make her new.
Although perhaps, she thinks, as well as using the agiel to train their charges, the Mistresses in the Temple where she was trained should have considered the use of Confessors in their syllabus. If they had, then maybe Cara would have been prepared for this.
"Please, Cara," Kahlan says, and if she stops short of fluttering her eyelashes at Cara it's only because even Kahlan has to acknowledge that such subterfuges are beneath the dignity of the Mother Confessor. Or perhaps it's just that Kahlan doesn't think that it would work, which is the more probable explanation.
Of course, it would be easier to bear this whole rigmarole if Cara was just as convinced that it won't.
She's not, but when she looks to Richard for support - for any support, whatsoever, because by this stage in the proceedings, Mord Sith or not, Mistress or not, Cara is pretty much at breaking point - Richard simply looks back at her innocently. He's trying for impassive, she can tell that from the way that the corner of his mouth twitches, but Richard is completely incapable of actually hiding what he's feeling. Normally that gives Cara an edge when dealing with the Lord Rahl, but then normally whatever emotion that Richard's feeling doesn't fall within the range of 'amusement at Cara's expense'. Or at least, not very far within that range and not for very long if he knows what's good for him.
This time, however, it seems to fall somewhere slap bang in the middle.
"Please?" Kahlan repeats, and - may the Keeper damn her soul for all eternity - she adds a winsome little smile into the mix.
This is all the Wizard's fault, Cara thinks darkly, taking a brief moment to imagine every single thing she's going to do to Zedd when she gets her hands on him. If she gets her hands on him - for once, Zedd is noticeable in his absence, and Cara would bet good D'Haran gold that it's because he's decided to make himself scarce. He's not that much of an old fool, and he can be remarkably nifty on his feet when the situation calls for it, and this situation most definitely calls for him to be out of Cara's reach. A long way out of Cara's reach.
She glances at the door, but it's just a shade too far. Kahlan is quick and Richard quicker still, and Cara is damned sure that even if she broke for freedom now, one or the other of them would reach her before she could reach the door and the tenuous safety it offers (tenuous because Kahlan can be tenacious and while that can be a good thing and something that Cara would wholeheartedly support, on this occasion it's not and she definitely doesn't).
Plus, if it's undignified for a Confessor to beg, how much more undignified would it be for a Mord Sith to run?
She won't run, she decides. She'll simply stalk out, head held high and...
And then Kahlan flutters her eyelashes. Just a little, just so that Cara notices but not enough that Kahlan couldn't deny it if challenged. Which is completely unfair of her, but then Cara really shouldn't be surprised by that. Richard's the one who insists on playing fair - Kahlan's much too sensible to insist on it and, apparently, far too sneaky to think it applies to her.
Cara huffs out a breath, loud and impatient, her look of disgust managing to encompass both Kahlan and that traitor, Richard. "Fine," she snarls, holding out an imperious hand and gesturing for Kahlan to hand over what she's currently got clutched close to her chest.
"Oh, Cara!" Kahlan gushes, and there is no doubting whatsoever that she's gushing. Cara narrows her eyes at Kahlan, because if there's one thing that Kahlan would never do - should never do - it's gush. Perhaps she's not Kahlan. Perhaps this is some plot of Shota's to replace Kahlan with some superficial look-alike, someone with no sense and no sense of style, either. For a split second Cara can feel something oddly like hope rising in her chest, but the devilish light in Kahlan's eyes is too familiar to be faked, and the small smile playing around her lips is all Kahlan and no one else.
Cara narrows her eyes further, twitching the cloth out of Kahlan's hands and holding it up in a way that leaves no doubt as to her opinion of it.
It has ruffles.
"Fine," she bites out again, and this time the word escapes through gritted teeth, dripping with all of the venom of which she is capable. Which is a lot, given how much practice she's had over the years. "If it's that important to you, and to the Lord Rahl," Richard grimaces as his title hits home, a clear indication that Cara is Not Pleased with him, "then I will wear the damned dress. Just this once and under protest, is that understood?"
Kahlan positively beams at her and, in that split second where Kahlan's whole face lights up, Cara's displeasure starts to waver for, oh, at least a second before she drags herself, kicking and screaming, back to her senses. "You'll still be able to fight in it," Kahlan wheedles, all practicality now that she's got her own way. When Cara glares at her, a look that is all mingled disbelief and irritation, Kahlan shrugs smoothly, shooting Cara another smile, one that's warm and pleased, and therefore immediately puts Cara on guard, wondering what else is coming. "You managed to do that just fine in Rothenberg," she adds, "and that dress wasn't as... freeing. Her voice is just as warm as her smile, and far too bright. The laughter dancing in Kahlan's eyes, however, is real.
Cara narrows her eyes at Kahlan so much it's a wonder she can see out of them at all.
"I am wearing this damned dress under protest," she repeats, loudly and clearly in the hope that maybe it will get through. As if.
Kahlan's cheek dimples, dimpling even further when Cara merely scowls in response. "You'll look lovely," Kahlan says.
"More to the point," Richard adds, and he's doing a very good job of hiding his laughter, although his eyes are dancing a little too much - enough to have Cara's fingers itching for her agiels at least, "you won't look like a Mord Sith."
"I am Mord Sith." The protest is automatic, as is Richard's little eyeroll. Cara decides that she's had enough of narrowing her eyes at Kahlan - especially as it doesn't seem to be having any effect - and narrows them at Richard instead. Not that it has any effect on Richard, except to have his mouth curl up a little bit more at the corners.
"Wearing a dress won't change that, Cara," he says patiently, and Cara wonders idly if perhaps Richard needs a little refresher course in exactly what 'Mord Sith' means, possibly one delivered by an agiel. An agiel shoved right up his...
"Cara, my dear girl!"
Talking of things that need agieling... There's Zedd, bang on cue.
She turns her head slowly, treating Zedd to the same narrow-eyed look that had failed to work on either Richard or Kahlan. It doesn't work on Zedd either, and she's beginning to think that she's losing her touch.
"Are we not ready yet?" he asks, and the only thing that saves him from an immediate agieling is that Cara is rendered speechless by his outfit. And she thought hers was bad - about the only thing she can say about Zedd's is that at least this time he's not wearing a dress. Although, given the way he currently looks, perhaps that would be an improvement (and he does have the legs for a dress, not that Cara would ever admit that). She's not entirely sure where he got the sparkly things he's attached to his robe, or the stupid hat he's wearing, but the overall effect is... special, to say the least.
"What are you?" she asks, giving him the once over and not bothering to hide her raised eyebrow, or her amusement. "The entertainment?"
It rolls off Zedd like water off a duck's back. In fact, he beams at her, and his smile is almost as wide as Kahlan's had been. "That's right. I'm resurrecting Ruben Rybnick for the evening." She gives him a blank look and his smile widens into something both self-satisfied and nostalgic, which is a feat in and of itself. "He's a world-renowned puppeteer, my dear, with tricks and marionettes to delight both the young and young-at-heart."
And then he treats her to another smile, one that immediately puts her on her guard. "And by 'tricks' I mean, of course, magic tricks." Of course he does, which means she's due another evening of so-called 'entertainment' involving grown men pulling rabbits out of a hat. At least this time the evening won't end with her stuck in a tomb with Kahlan while some mouldering monster stalks the land, killing the unrighteous and unwary.
She hopes. And even if it does, well... manipulation into wearing a dress aside, there are few people she'd rather be trapped with than Kahlan.
But it wouldn't do to be gracious about being forced into attending this evening's entertainment, especially not while wearing a dress. As far as Cara is concerned, Zedd is much too fond of the whole disguise thing, and she's still not sure why the rest of them have to suffer along with him.
"I'm not giving up my evening to watch you prance about a stage, waving your arms about and making trinkets disappear," she says flatly. "I'll make my own entertainment, thank you very much, and it will involve getting information another way." She pats her agiels pointedly and smirks at Zedd.
"Oh, you won't be watching, Cara," he says. "You'll be my assistant for the evening, my dear."
"Your what?" Her smile slides away from her face and hides.
"My assistant," he repeats, and gives Kahlan a little frowning look that immediately sends a fierce foreboding through Cara, one that only grows when Kahlan gives Zedd a delighted little twitch of the mouth in return. "Why else would we give you that particular outfit?" Zedd continues, glancing between the pair of them.
That particular...
She shakes it out and finally - finally - looks at it, too late. It's even shorter than she feared - it will barely come past her knees - and while it's red like her leathers, her leathers definitely do not sparkle.
"I am not wearing this... this... this monstrosity," she manages to get out before words fail her entirely and she's left shaking the garment at Zedd in something close to speechlessness. She can't even be angry - it's too absurd a thing to be angry about because it's too absurd a thing to be real. She is Mord Sith and Mord Sith do not wear sparkly frocks, no matter how much Zedd is a frustrated thespian!
Zedd pouts at her. "But it's traditional," he says as though that's supposed to be a good reason for her not to cut all of his fingers off. (See if he could do some card tricks then!)
"Put it this way, Cara," Richard interjects soothingly, and his tone simply increases her ire. He knew. Both of them knew, and yet neither of them told Zedd that it was perhaps his stupidest idea yet. "You don't need to worry about whether or not you'll be able to fight in it, and you'll have easy access to your agiels in that... outfit." Richard's mouth twitches again as he tries - and fails - to keep his amusement in check.
Easy? There's only one possible response to that.
She's Mord Sith, which means that she has some magic tricks all of her very own. The only difference is that hers involve the sudden appearance of a great deal of pain before she takes her final bow and disappears.
And there won't be any pulling of her out of a hat.
The end
I made you some headers for your LJ, together with matching icons. The headers are thumbnails, so if you click on them you should get to the full sized images in LJ's scrapbook (you may need to click more than once :)) Also, please let me know if you'd like to know how to rotate your headers - I can show you how to do that :)
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |