swatkat: (lots: because she is pretty)
[personal profile] swatkat
This fine, fine manip of pirate!Cara on Tumblr reminded me of this:


It is still dark when Kahlan wakes, shifting and stretching on the blanket, heavy-limbed and lazy. She is a little sore in places—and completely, utterly sated in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

Her mind returns unbidden to the events of the night before and she feels her face heat, glad that Cara is not around to witness this. Her passion last night was unexpected, breathtaking, and now Kahlan is unsure as to how things will proceed.

She isn't certain if she will be able to so much as look at Cara without remembering her touch, the warm press of her skin. It worries her.

She spots Cara at a distance, ankle-deep in the water, boots abandoned on the shore and breeches folded halfway to her knees. Her back is straight, golden hair whipping around her face in the breeze.

She looks almost peaceful. She looks like an ordinary woman, and not the dreaded pirate Cara, scourge of the seas.

She holds herself very still. Kahlan wonders if she misses her ship.

The last of the stars disappear as the sky grows lighter, and suddenly Kahlan wants nothing more than to join Cara and watch the sun rise, feel the cool waves and the soft earth sinking beneath her feet. The thought makes her pulse quicken. There is no reason why it should.

It occurs to her that she is perhaps not best equipped to deal with such a situation, youthful dalliances with Richard notwithstanding.

She falls asleep thinking of Richard, wishing he were around so she could ask for his advice.

*

The next time she wakes up, Cara isn't around. In fact, Cara is nowhere to be seen for hours while Kahlan lights a fire and makes breakfast.

She has worked herself up to a fine sullen state by the time Cara returns. 'Where have you been?' Kahlan snaps, although the answer is quite evident from the plump rabbit Cara is carrying on her shoulder.

'Were you lonely without me, Commodore?' Cara says, lips twisting in an insolent smirk.

'I managed just fine,' Kahlan says loftily, ignoring the way her face heats at the insinuation.

It was foolish—foolish of her to give in to temptation, her usual iron control weakened by the night air and the rum. Cara herself, alluring in a way no pirate should have the right to be.

She is an officer of the Midlands Navy, not a blushing maiden who will swoon at the sight of a dashing pirate.

Still, it is difficult not to stare as Cara busies herself with skinning the rabbit, nimble fingers moving swiftly, brow furrowed in concentration.


*


Someday I will write this story.

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swatkat: knight - er, morgana - in shining underwear (Default)
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