Thank you to everyone who voted for this fic in the LOTSEEKERFIC AWARDS. It won 1st Place "Best AU" in Rare Pair Femslash, and placed in a few other categories. Also thank you to everyone who voted for my other fics! My full winner list is available on my profile.

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Honor

-One Month After the Death of Lord Darken Rahl-

Cara surfaced, warm water streaming down her skin, her hair floating around her in the scented waters of her bath. She moved to stretch her arms out along the stone edge of the bathing pool, two subordinate Mord'Sith coming forward to tend to her hair.

Footsteps echoed on the stone of the bathing hall floor. Cara paid them no mind, her eyes closed as she considered all the preparations she had made, and all she had yet to make.

"We're wasting time Cara."

That voice.

Cara opened her eyes.

"So you live. You're disturbing my bath, Triana." Cara did not turn to face the dark haired Mord'Sith. Not yet. A dark coiling anger unfurled in her gut, memories of Jennsen's treatment at Triana's hands fueling her rage.

"While you're washing your hair, D'Hara is falling to pieces. We should go to the People's Palace now – "

"And do what when we get there," Cara hissed, turning to face the object of her ire. "Loot the wine cellar?"

"We swear our allegiance to Lord Rahl," Triana declared, eyes bright.

Panic that she did not show clenched at Cara's heart. She cut Triana off, saying flatly, "Lord Rahl is dead."

Face hard, Triana removed her Agiel from its sheathe, the high whine it emitted making Cara clench her teeth. Proof that her son was alive…

Triana lowered her Agiel into the water, electrifying it with torture magic. Cara did not so much as twitch.

"If he were the last of his bloodline, then our Agiels would have lost their power," Triana almost purred, flushed with a victory over Mistress Cara at last.

Cara approached Triana, water rippling away from her hips as she ascended the steps of the bathing pool. It was too soon to reveal her son. There were too many who would see him dead before he was a man grown. Cara needed time to bring the kingdom to order – to conquer the empire for her young prince before he was brought to the People's Palace.

Cara would prepare the way for the young Master Rahl. Then she would have her son brought forth, and Jennsen Rahl declared his regent. Her sweet Jennsen would do whatever Cara wished. Through her, Cara would rule until her son was ready.

It was what Darken Rahl would have wanted. It was their son's destiny.

"If and when the new Lord Rahl should claim the throne, we will decide if he is worthy of our services," Cara stood before Triana, water running down her skin. She turned, taking in all the Mord'Sith in the bathing hall as she continued, "Until then, who better to bring order to the territories than the Mord'Sith? I've called for a meeting of all our Sisters at the temple of Jondralyn. We leave today."

Enraged at being dismissed by Cara yet again, jaw still sore where Cara had cracked it, Triana sneered, "When did you become queen? I must have missed the coronation."

She never saw Cara's fist, just felt the sting as her head snapped back, her teeth rattling in her already weakened jaw as something inside her nose was crushed. Then Triana was flying, falling, sinking . Her leathers made moving in the bath difficult. She choked as she tried to breathe and inhaled a lungful of scented water.

And then Cara was there, ripping at her scalp, forcing her under. She was stronger, more agile in the water. All Triana could think of was air, all she could feel was despair. It seemed the site of her first humiliation at Cara's hand would be the place of her final degradation.

A death unworthy of a warrior.

Cara pulled Triana's face up, allowing her to breathe. Desperate, Trina gasped, "I demand an honorable death! It is my right as a Mord'Sith."

Watery rivulets of blood ran down her face. She wheezed, throat burning.

The danger Triana's protestations presented to Jennsen, to her son made Cara cold. Lips close to Triana's ear, she whispered, "You deserve no honor. You will stay alive and serve me." She could feel Triana shiver. Turning eyes like flint on those who watched, Cara asked, as if unconcerned, "Does someone else have a problem?"

Her voice echoed off the stone.

-l-

"Mistress, please!"

"You will do as I say Jennsen," Cara held the begging woman in her arms. "It is not safe for you yet."

"I'm safe when I'm with you," Jennsen protested, clinging to Cara, blue eyes wide in desperation. "Please, don't leave me again. It's always so awful, wondering if you'll come back."

Gently, unusually so, Cara pried Jennsen's fingers away, then cupped her face in one red-gloved hand, "Jennsen, listen very carefully."

Jennsen nodded, leaning into Cara's touch.

"You must wear a servant's uniform, and hide among the maids. You are to tell no one who you are, do you understand? Until I am in control of the empire, you are a powerful weapon in the wrong hands."

"Because I'm pristinely ungifted?" Jennsen asked, voice small.

"No, my Jennsen," Cara's eyes flashed. "Because you are a Rahl. Men will force you into marriage, into their beds so that they may try to claim the throne. Only a gifted Rahl by birth may rule, is capable of it… but that will not stop them from trying."

Thoroughly frightened, eyes wide in horror, Jennsen wrapped her arms around Cara once more, seeking comfort. "I won't tell anyone who I am. And when you find your son –"

"Do not speak of him!" Cara chastised. Jennsen cringed. Taking a deep breath, Cara stroked Jennsen's hair, pressing a sensual kiss to her forehead. "Tell no one who you are. Tell no one of my son. If anyone but me comes for you, hide."

Looking into Cara's eyes, Jennsen let out a long sigh. "You'll come back for me?"

"On my honor as a Mord'Sith, I will return for you, Jennsen Rahl," Cara swore, then pulled Jennsen into a dominant kiss.