LOTS Oneshot: Awful Hollows of Space

Title: Awful Hollows of Space
by Jesterlady
PG-13
Pairing: Cara/Richard
Summary: This is what happened in 1X22 when Richard and Cara were traveling together in the future. It takes a long time to get anywhere by foot in enemy territory and the two of them have only each other
A/N: I really love Richard/Cara. And it's not that I don't like Richard/Kahlan, because they're great and I really appreciate the faithfulness the two have and how steady their love is, but...there's just something between Cara and Richard. So, I hope you like this anyway despite the loyal R/K shippers that seem to be rampant in this fandom. One of the hardest things about this fic is finding a way to bypass R/K and I tried to do them justice.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOTS and the title is by George MacDonald. Some lines are from the show.

<lj-cut text="Comments are love</a> Awful Hollows of Space Later on he would see it started with the maggots. It was there he discovered her stubbornness, her competitive nature, her survival instincts and her humor; all in that one moment. And, in that moment, he started to respect her. She walked away stiffly, hand over the wound he’d inflicted on her and he stared after her, wondering how the next few weeks were going to go. He was still in the throes of grief over Kahlan and Zedd, how could he not be? For him it had only been a few days while the world had revolved so many times since their deaths. The only familiar thing in the world was the proud Mord’Sith stalking next to him, also facing the loss of all she’d known. They were twin companions of loss who couldn’t be farther apart. But she was a practical person, like all her kind; he knew that from experience. She could literally share the bed of an enemy if it meant surviving to the next day and the next enemy. But she surprised him when she began speaking of her doubts, voicing his own and almost gently mocking him for his inability to share with her. He turned toward her, questioning, seeking out her motives. What he found were her lips, so close, so inviting. She brushed them against his and he was startled. It felt like it had been so very long since he had felt the touch of lips to his. He slowly responded, relishing and then - broke away so fast his neck hurt. “What’s wrong?” “I’m in love with somebody else.” “Who said anything about love? I’m talking about pleasure.” The idea was so far removed from his own beliefs that he could only stare in disbelief for one brief moment even while contemplating the softness of the lips of such a hard woman. “I’m sorry.” She pulled away and he missed the heat of her body. “Look at you. Faithful to a woman who’s probably been dead…thirty years?” Her mocking tones reminded him of the futility of life without Kahlan, but he hadn’t been in the future nearly long enough to forget her. He doubted any amount of time could do that. Cara resumed her position at his side as he turned his face away, but she did not continue her advances for which he was mostly thankful. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with her. Her body’s heat burned against him and he didn’t feel cold for the rest of the night. The next day found them furtively hiding beneath a rotting bridge as they waited for the Master’s men to pass them by. She played with her agiel, as if bored, and he couldn’t stop staring. “How can you do that?” he finally had to ask. “It hurts you.” “Pain can be controlled,” she whispered back. “Even pleasurable under the right circumstances. I’m sure even the noble Seeker can understand that.” “I see the principle of the matter,” he said, but he couldn’t grasp the specifics. “But you now…hurting yourself…isn’t going to help us. It’s not the right kind of situation to give you…pleasure.” Cara smiled at his blush which only made him more uncomfortable. She licked her lips before leaning forward. “Mord’Sith aren’t like other women, Seeker. I thought Denna would have taught you that. We’re built to withstand pain and the more we do the more we can. Simply holding an agiel does practically nothing to me. It hasn’t for a long time.” “I know how much that thing hurts,” he said. She smiled again, like a lioness indulging her prey. “You don’t know the half of it. But I assure you, Richard Cypher, we are equally as adept at handing out pleasure as well as pain. Mistresses in every way.” He stared at her; certain his mouth must be hanging open a little. She simply looked at him, a little smirk playing around her lips. “I-I’m sure you are. But that doesn’t mean-“ “Come,” Cara said, rising, “it’s safe to move.” She got up swiftly and moved forward leaving him slightly unsure where he stood in the world. It took a few more days of traveling with her before he could gauge her moods properly. She was as taciturn as all Mord’Sith he’d encountered, as eager to shock, she was as prideful and dominant. Those were all qualities he would expect from her kind. He also found she was purposeful and observant, easily the best of the two of them at keeping them unseen by roving bands of the confessed. She could not hunt and track like him, but she moved through the dark like a hunter, lithe and graceful, and he found himself watching her just for the sake of it. She was obviously used to traveling alone and in groups because she thought of his needs before he did, and then rebuked him calmly for not thinking of it first. It was a week into their journey before she tried again. It had been a particularly hard day. They’d had to fight and kill four men who had attacked them. Cara had more than proven herself as a worthy companion in that regard. She'd saved his life by catching an errant axe and then thrown him a contemptuous glance before launching herself at another opponent. In the end, though, she’d been kicked in the side where Richard himself had knifed her. It had started bleeding again and he’d helped her remove her leather so that he could clean the wound and then they’d foraged something to eat. He sat against a tree trunk, lost in his own thoughts, thinking of Kahlan and Zedd and how life traveling used to be. He wondered what his Confessor had looked like while pregnant, how the years had treated her, even while knowing it must have been awful. He wondered if she had missed him as much as he missed her, or if maybe Rahl had somehow managed to change her at all, to make her love him. Cara sat beside him, not speaking. That was something Richard appreciated about her. She only spoke when she had something worthwhile to say. “It’s no good thinking about her,” Cara said dully, for her. He looked at her in surprise. Her tone of voice was the one thing constant about her; so he looked to see if she was favoring her side still. Her hand was there, but she didn’t look to be in pain. It was then that he realized how much he was counting on her, needing her to survive, and how much he actually wanted her to. How very much could change within a week and they still had so very far to travel. “Why shouldn’t I?” he asked quietly. “She’s gone, Seeker. We are the only things left.” “Do you miss your sisters?” he said, not wanting to talk about Kahlan. She was something that was literally in his past and it hurt to speak the words of her being gone out loud. “Of course I do,” Cara said sharply and he was glad to hear the bite back in her voice. “I do not fall prey to my emotions but that does not mean they are not there.” “What do you miss?” She stared at him for a full minute before huffing out a breath and turning to face the night sky. “I miss waking up early in the morning and the sparring sessions. I miss the tangy expectation of a new trainee being brought into the Temple. I miss the way Trianna always managed to get out of any sort of menial labor required or how Dahlia would get her trainees to bring her flowers. I miss looking out the Temple windows and knowing I was home. That’s all gone now.” Cara’s head dropped to her knees and she looked as relaxed as he’d ever seen her. “Everything’s gone,” he agreed, even if he couldn’t understand some of the things she missed. He, very cautiously, reached out a hand to her shoulder. She chuckled bitterly into her arms. “Are you going soft on me?” He took his hand away as if she’d burnt him. “No, I just…well, you were the one who said we were the only ones left.” Her head snapped up and she looked at him. He stared at her for a moment and then made as if to move away. “No, you don’t get out that easily,” Cara whispered and pulled him towards her violently. Her lips collided with his in a brutal smash and he found himself liking the slight excitement the pain brought him. He matched her movements, embellishing and turning with them. Her lips and then her hands made him feel alive when he had been dead. But then he was scared and broke away again, standing up and turning his back toward her. “The Confessor’s been gone for thirty years,” her wry voice reminded him. “Thirty years and only almost two weeks,” he answered heavily, out of breath. “I know the feeling,” Cara said enigmatically and then moved away to unpack their bedroll. “Come to bed; I promise I won’t accost you.” He stood there for a few minutes, calming his racing thoughts and feeling completely confused. He crawled underneath the fur and gravitated toward her warmth. But he knew it was a long time before either of them slept. They didn’t say anymore about the incident for a few days though he doubted they had the same motives. She probably didn’t care about it as much as he did, she certainly didn’t act like it. He was trying to put it out of his mind and concentrate on getting to the palace. They did speak, exchanging stories and the loneliness of the road caused more confidences than either would probably have shared otherwise. Sometimes he couldn’t remember a time before this nightmarish twosome, this fierce survival struggle, the smallest rebellion in any land. It was the worst time of his life and he couldn’t have borne it if not for her and sometimes because of her. They had several small skirmishes again, avoiding any major injuries, but the fights always slowed them down. They also had to hide more and travel less the closer they got to the palace, leading Richard to believe that he’d been right about the Master’s location. He spent entire days in complete silence with Cara a constant presence at his side. He doubted he would ever be unable to identify her presence again. And at night they lay close, side by side, and he wondered anew at how it could be that he was lying there with a Mord’Sith, practically cuddling with her, and yet he’d never been allowed to do so with Kahlan. Cara always seemed to sense when he was thinking about Kahlan and would either start talking to distract him or punch his shoulder or perhaps trip him. Once they’d been walking along a valley path and he’d mentioned offhand something about Zedd and then Cara had mentioned something about Rahl and then he’d talked about Kahlan and then she’d talked about Dahlia and he’d tripped her. Cara had stumbled in surprise and looked at him with absolute murder on her impassive face. Richard had taken an inward step back; maybe their partnership was not up to that level yet. Then she’d laughed, only for a short time, but he would never forget how beautiful her face was when she smiled genuinely. That night he kissed her. He hadn’t been planning on it, but after a long day of frustration and exhausting traveling, her presence beside him had been too much to take. He wouldn’t lie, even to himself, and he knew he was imagining Kahlan as he caressed Cara’s face, but he also didn’t fool himself into thinking that he was anything important in her eyes. He didn’t let himself take it any farther than heavy kissing even as he ached to do more. He wouldn’t betray Kahlan that way. Traveling was an instant intimacy promoter, he knew that from experience. He’d only been with Zedd and Kahlan a few days before he felt like he’d known them all his life, though he had technically always known Zedd. They were together every minute of every day, they shared everything and the burden of their mission, his mission, pressed down on them all, weaving them together. It was like that now with Cara. With the others it had been easy and effortless and he had wanted it, craved it, and encouraged it. Now, with Cara, he wasn’t sure how right it really was. He wasn’t sure of her part in it, how it would change the future or the past. She was still expecting to kill him, he imagined, and he honestly couldn’t say he didn’t think about killing her too. So, he resisted the intimacy their travelling initiated, but he found it wasn’t a possible thing to do. Her physical presence was a bane to him and he was unsettled by her Mord’Sith manners and emotionless killing. But she was there and she was alone like him. And she made it easier to forget the pain of being alone. “How long are you going to make me wait?” she finally asked one night as they settled into their bedroll and he distanced himself from her. “I have been patient and I have tried to be understanding. These are not easy things for me to accomplish and I would like to see them bear fruit so that I will not have wasted my time. Are you going to mourn over her forever?” “Yes,” he said, in all honesty, turning to look at her. The look on her face was one of such understanding, coupled with an alien patience and lack of empathy as to confound him and probably her. It decided matters entirely and he reached over for her. They tangled in a violent mess of limbs and sliding flesh. Her hair was out of its braid for warmth and swirled around his shoulders as she leaned over him, kissing his mouth and gripping his arms. He ran his hands up and down her arms; feeling her legs, her stomach, everywhere he could reach, avoiding the wound in her side, almost by habit. Being in the woods like this was a new experience for him. He’d spent over the last year sleeping outdoors, but not that nor even the several times he and Anna had been together out on his small porch, compared to this wild coupling that mixed with the leaves and the night air. Cara was not lying when she said she was proficient at giving pleasure and Richard was happy enough to let her prove her worth throughout that night. He didn’t think, he didn’t need to, he simply was and that was better than being the nothing that he’d been for weeks since losing Kahlan. He still was the Seeker, he still had a quest, and now he had pleasure coursing up his limbs and down his back and a vitality that he’d forgotten. Cara’s mouth was everywhere and it was all he wanted. All he needed. The next morning, he felt no shame as he would have only a few days before, but he didn’t say anything to her as they dressed and prepared to set out. They walked all that day in silence, even the few hours they were forced to take cover in a half burnt down shed. He was grateful for her silence, for her non-pushing, her atypical response to what had passed between them. But he also knew that if anyone could have caused him to break out of his numb existence, it was her and he was grateful for the fact that she had. That night she reached for him again and he went willingly, longing for that feeling of being alive. And the next night and the next they turned to each other for comfort and pleasure and heat and need and it was easier the next day and the next. It was simple to walk beside her, eat beside her, watch her bathe, bathe with her, sleep with her, and hold her close, all without saying any words of endearment or feeling like it was love. It was need and it was companionship and he no longer wanted to kill her, but he couldn’t speak for her if she felt the same and he had no desire to. She never called him by his name except in moments of passion and the ‘Richards’ that fell from her lips almost felt like a betrayal from her, like she was admitting more than he wanted her to. But it still felt nice to hear and she more than made up for it during the day with her ‘Seeker this’ and ‘Seeker that’ and ‘Seeker, duck before you’re run through.’ He grinned at her during the heat of the battles and her teeth shone back at him in mimicry of his bloodlust. It seemed like they’d been together for an age when they finally reached the palace and found it empty and torn apart. It wasn’t until they met Shota and he saw Kahlan’s tomb that Richard felt like anything was amiss. And he broke when he saw her marble form and knew that she’d given everything for one chance to save him. It was like she’d died all over again and he felt all the love he’d been suffocating tear out of his chest again. It hadn’t really been that long ago. But there was no time for grief, there never had been time. So, he formed his plan and Cara never flinched when he explained it to her. She nodded once in acceptance and that was that. Shota left to do her part and they left to do theirs. That night Cara didn’t reach for him and he didn’t have to wonder why. Their dark, entangled comfort was coming to an end, any way they went. But he still craved it and he asked her. “Kiss me.” She sighed and turned on her side. “Seeker, I may be Mord’Sith, but I do not like being second.” “This isn’t a competition.” “Is that what you think? Tell me, <i>Richard</i>, whose body do you imagine as you caress mine?” He didn’t have to hesitate when he answered. “At first, it was hers. But now…now I think only of us, of you.” “Us? That’s quite a tricky problem. There is no us. But at least you’ve learnt how to lie. Now maybe you won’t get picked off like a weakling when we go back.” “So you want me to survive?” “I don’t want anyone else to have the pleasure of killing you.” He shook his head and returned to her original point. “I’m not lying and I was never weak. I only needed you as you needed me.” She obviously had no answer for that. “In some ways…” she hesitated “...in some ways I do not wish to return.” “I know what you mean,” he answered and bent down to kiss her bare shoulder and then her neck. She leaned into his kisses and then blew an exasperated sigh before engaging in her own physical exploration of his body. Not that she didn’t already know every inch of him; but, each time was like a new discovery and he was achingly glad she gave in to him. He didn’t want whatever this was to end just yet. He still needed it badly. Their night was short as they had a journey to complete, but it was as passionate as their first and, perhaps, a little more tender and yet a little more desperate. She said his name again and he almost whispered what he was thinking to her, but he couldn’t do it. In the morning they dug up the boxes and he brought up his worst fear, which he’d touched on the night before. “You said we’d only be fighting on the same side until the Master’s dead.” She looked down at him and he couldn’t read her face. It was as if they were back to the day they’d come here. “And?” “If this works, he’ll be wiped from history, he’ll never be born. If you go back to fighting on the side of his father, this could all happen all over again. You’ve seen the legacy of Rahl. You’ve seen what can happen if he wins! Ask yourself; is this really a future worth fighting for?” When she made no reply he turned and walked away from her. She silently followed. They walked for a few hours while he debated in his mind whether or not to say anything more to her. Richard the time traveling dead man who could afford to not care was dying and Richard the Seeker was coming back to life. But after they were in position he turned to her, desperate. “Please, Cara. Don’t fight me. I don’t want to kill you.” “You’re too kind,” she said, caressing his cheek with one leather glove. “No one ever said I would enjoy killing you.” “You said that,” he reminded her. She smiled quietly. “No one ever said I wasn’t good at lying.” And then she left to hide. The waiting was interminable, especially the part where he had to fight against his feelings of relief that this was almost over, his anxiety over what would happen, his hope and fear over what Cara would do later, his joy at seeing Kahlan and Zedd again. He was a torn man. But the moment arrived and he met the man who’d killed his Confessor. He put the boxes together and then gasped as the man’s hand closed around his throat. He dimly heard Cara begin to run to him and then the thrum of arrows as they notched into her body. His brain started to scream at him, but he kept his faith in her and his eyes on the Master. And then there was an intense pain in his neck and suddenly it was Kahlan with her hand on his throat and Kahlan staring into his eyes. He’d never felt so glad in all his life. But the pain overshadowed everything. He turned his head to look at Cara, desperate to see her, to know what she would do. Would she hurt him worse than she ever could have before this happened? She took the agiel from his flesh and touched it to her sister’s back. He turned his head and tried to smile at Kahlan, even while being comforted that Cara had dodged the wizard’s fire. When Rahl showed up and tried to stop the magic, Richard felt more powerful, buoyed up by the three people backing him. Three people he realized he trusted more than anything in the world. Two he’d always felt that way about and now there was a third and he couldn’t believe it himself. Rahl had no chance of stopping him, even when Kahlan was thrown from the circle. The evil tyrant levitated and burnt and fell, his reign at an end. The Sword of Truth clattered to the ground. “You betrayed us!” a voice rang out from one of the other Mord'Sith Richard shot his head back to Cara. “What I did, I did to save all of us.” She looked directly at him. “Lord Rahl is dead. You will follow my orders now!” No one objected and Richard closed his eyes in relief. She walked close to him and he wanted to say something, to do something, but he couldn’t. Her eyes looked at his with cold understanding. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, Seeker. Sometime in the future.” She almost smiled and spoke low. “Richard.” He looked at her retreating figure and wished for a simpler time when there was nothing but the two of them and their bodies and their need. Then he remembered Kahlan and the joy overtook him again. He would have to forget. Not entirely, but how could he explain their bond to Zedd and Kahlan? How could they understand that…month…more...where he and Cara had been alone, surviving together? It wasn’t possible and he tucked the memory deep inside himself to hopefully share with her one day. But for now, he was back with his family, and he wanted nothing more than to rejoice with them and rest with them. Even if he had returned to them a little bit broken, a little bit stronger, a little bit older, a little bit more resolute, a little bit more loving? - than when they’d parted. </lj-cut>