"Denna, Cara there you are."

Darken Rahl turns away from the window caved into the massive stone-wall of his palace. The sun bathes the room in the last rays of its dying, golden light. Slowly, his dark eyes leave the in training battling soldiers outside on the field to settle on his two most favored Mord'Sith.

"Lord Rahl," both of them greet their master with a short bow, that only Mord'Sith seem to perform in true submissive perfection.

Both are clad in custom red leather, shining as if polished the minute before they stepped through the door. Their hair is done as from a proper Mord'Sith to be expected, braids tight and neat, every unruly strand of blond hair forced in its rightful place. Standing at attention, they wait for their Lord and Master to reveal the reason he summoned them here, especially them together, both for different reasons.

"There is a matter I need taken care of," Rahl says, while his fingers graze nervously down the side of his face, coming to rest atop his lower lip. "Travel to the temple in the southern region. You are to find the person, who is betraying my faith and loyalty." Rahl takes an agitated breath, then continues, "the one hiding in the shadows, beneath the warm blanket of the Sisterhood of the Agiel. Leave at once, all the necessary preparations have already been made."

"My Lord," Denna purrs, as she makes a pointed step closer to her Lord, invading his personal space just so much she is sure he will forgive her, "I do not need anyone's assistance, send only me to handle it all by myself."

"Denna," he drawls haughtily. Cupping her cheek with a hand, stroking softly with his thumb over her flawless skin. "I know you are very capable on your own, but I have made my decision. You both will go-together." As he walks back to the arched window and dismisses them thereby, Denna flicks a hard glance in Cara's direction. Her sister stands with crossed arms in front of her chest and smirks. The only desire Mistress Denna has in this particular moment, is to wipe the self-satisfied grin off her face.

It is only a half-days ride into their designated journey, but it is one that goes by in absolute silence. The resistant-fighters, approaching ambush-style from a nearby copse, are for both Mord'Sith a more than welcome distraction. Shouts like, "It will be a pleasure to tear Darken Rahl's whores into pieces!" are heard and Cara chuckles darkly at Denna's reply, who is already dismounting her horse with Agiels at the ready. "But the pleasure is all mine."

Half a candle-mark later, Denna and Cara are alone once more, excecpt for the eight men lying dead to their feet. Panting hard, Cara turns to Denna, who has been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. As she looks over, her sister is fiddling with the front part of her leathers. The corset and the smoother layer beneath are definitely a goner. Not particularly unamused, Cara states, "you are hurt..", to Denna's obvious dismay to be seen in a state of disarray.

"It's nothing!" Denna barks, trying to pull the torn parts of her leathers back together. "No more than a scratch!" She reaches down for one of her Agiels, that had been knocked from her grasp during battle. As she straightens again to secure the weapon back in its holder at her waist, Cara's eyes are momentarily fixed to the spot where Denna has suffered the delicate cut on her sternum. Memorized, she can't tear her eyes away, as a drop of blood makes its way down over her firm stomach, leaving a dark red trace in its path. Cara's gaze follows until it disappears from her sight at last, blending in with the red of Denna's leathers low on her waist.

Denna, watching Cara being watched herself, fakes a cough."Cara." She says languidly, when the other Mord'Sith fails to react.

Coming out of her haze, Cara snaps back to the situation at hand. Looking up she notices the slight devilish curl of Denna's dark painted lips. Being caught starring at Denna so openly is reason enough to chide herself instantly. "What?"

"Enjoying the view, huh?" Denna drawls suggestively, while her index-finger traces ever so slowly the trail of blood that has marked her pale skin.

Cara rolls her eyes in annoyance, rather at herself than at Denna. "You would like that, wouldn't you?!" She counters, refusing to show how well Denna's statement has hit its mark. "Pretentious much?!"

Denna only smirks wider-and says nothing.

Some time later, as they are about to continue on their journey, it becomes clear that the damage to Denna's armor is far worse than at first assumed. Involuntary they stop at the next town to find someone qualified and with the means to repair Denna's torn leathers. They end up at the full to the brim towns Inn, that is gapingly empty by the time the two Mord'Sith reach the counter.

"Is there somebody selling leather goods in this town?" Cara addresses the tavern owner behind the wooden counter without dealing with pleasantries. Denna gives a bored yawn.

"No," he answers, already shaking like a fluttering leaf in the wind. Cara looks over to Denna imploringly and holds her gaze for a moment longer than the owner of the tavern is comfortable with. After, she places her Agiel ostentatiously on the counter top.

"And do say, wherever may I find one then?"

His gaze fixes on her Agiel and his mouth opens as if to answer but no words pass his lips.

"I asked a simple question," Cara says impassively. Her hand closes around the shaft of her Agiel and the sing-song-tune of a thousand tormented screams is released-like heavy scent-into the air. "I should warn you, I am not one to be patient."

"The next trader is in Dunmore, a two days ride north." The voice does not belong to the man in front of Cara, but to his wife, who is placing two filled-up mugs on the counter. "We don't want any trouble." She adds unflinchingly, meeting Cara's gaze head on.

Cara growls, "A two days ride in the wrong direction?!"

Denna only shrugs with a tranquility Cara envies her for. "Why Cara, are you afraid you actually need to ride at more than leisurely pace?"

Cara deliberately ignores her.

Noticing Denna's ripped garments, the woman disappears through a nearby door, only to appear a few moments later with an almond colored gown, placing it on the counter. Addressing Denna she says, "You can have one of mine, until your leather is repaired."

"I'd rather walk bare than wear the dress of a common wench," Denna spits out, disgusted by the mere thought of it. She reaches for the offered mug on the counter instead. With the motion, the last laces that held the upper part of her armor together, rip apart.

The tavern owner and his wife gasp embarrassment, hurriedly averting their gazes from the bared Mord'Sith. Amused, she addresses Denna, who sips from her drink, utterly indifferent to her recent promiscuity.

"And I believe you will have to then." Cara's smirk grows even wider, "But I doubt that the common towns-people will complain about the show."

The platinum blonde growls and fists the gown in her hand, "A single wrong word from you, my dear Sister, and you will be sorry."

One and a half day later, Cara and Denna finally arrive at their original destination, the Mord'Sith temple in the southern region of D'Hara. Not bothering with the two days ride, as Denna had something—albeit improper-to wear and her leathers could be repaired in the other temple anyway.

A dark-haired Mord'Sith already stands at attention as Cara and Denna approach.

"Sister." Cara gives her a short nod in acknowledgment, before she dismounts gracefully from her horse, closely followed by Denna.

"You brought your own pet!?" The dark-haired Mord'Sith asks somewhat irritated as her gaze falls on Denna.

"I'm most certainly no ones pe-", Denna growls, but is interrupted as Cara backhands her straight across the face. Denna's gaze turns deadly.

"Of course you are, pet." Cara insists in an adjuring voice, hoping that Denna will get the hint. If she and Denna are to find out what circumstances lead Lord Rahl to believe, that a traitor is amongst their sisters in this temple, it certainly couldn't hurt to have one of them investigating on each side. Unfortunately for Denna that she had to face the bitter fate being on the unpleasant side, but was it not her own choice to wear that silly gown of slavery in the first place?

Cara smirks darkly. She knows that Denna is as eager as she is not to fail Lord Rahl and prove herself to him. But she also knows only too well from personal experience, that Denna was one of her sisters with the highest self-esteem and pride-that yet is to be bested.

Her head being slightly turned to the left, Cara observes Denna out of the corners of her eyes, as she addresses the other Mord'Sith, who is regarding the interaction with rather stoic interest.

"I have not finished training her - yet." Cara sort of explains Denna's defiant behavior to the other Mord'Sith. The smirk that threatens to break through, as she watches Denna's jaw turn white under the pressure of the blonde's teeth, she is barely able to hide.

"She is still quite bothersome," Cara adds only for her own sadistic enjoyment, to watch Denna's facial expression harden once more. Denna might not welcome this turn of events, but she has never been too hot-headed to not see the bigger picture. Or even accept some minor inconveniences to benefit by later.

The other Mord'Sith narrows her eyes. "Then why did you bring her here?"

This time Cara smirks for good and states the only answer for that question, "to serve me of course," her eyes meet Denna's, "in all ways a pleasure servant has to offer."

Denna's eyes widen and Cara notices with a spreading feeling of pure joy how her jaw muscles start to twitch. Oh, Mistress Denna is not amused. But Cara does not care, she is enjoying herself immensely. And she has decided to savor every delicious moment, while it lasts.

"She must serve you quite extraordinary then; even when she looks a bit fragile," the dark-haired Mord'Sith assumes, eying Denna's body from top to bottom while circling her. "I would like to experience myself, how versed in the arts of pleasure she really is."

This is it. Denna laughs bitterly and is about to tell the other Mord'Sith, that the only thing she can experience is Denna shoving her Agiel up her ass, but before she can utter a word, Cara's hand is on her mouth, squeezing it shut.

"She can please you in ways you cannot imagine." Cara purrs, only to have Denna biting down on her hand. She shoots Denna a stern look, who is looking with an expression of sheer innocence back at her. Cara holds Denna's eyes for a second longer before releasing her grip. "What are you doing?" Denna whispers furiously.

"That is for me to know and you to find out, my favorite pet." Cara says and winks.

The other Mord'Sith-oblivious of the twisted Mistress and pet relationship-smiles pleased, full of anticipation for Cara's assertion to come true. "I will take her to the dungeons for now, to stay with the other slaves until you require her services."

"Mistress.." Denna hisses through clenched teeth, choking a little as she forces the appellation over her lips. Ordering Cara how to answer with a shake of her head.

Smiling devilishly, Cara replies without hesitation, "Sounds good to me." Denna's brows get lost in her hairline. Cara looks at her once more before she nods to the other Mord'Sith , turns on her heel and walks down the entrance corridor.

"Mistress," in a last ditch attempt Denna calls after her, "are you quite certain I cannot be of assistance?"Her tone is hard and demanding, even disguised in the beg of a slave-keen to only please her Mistress-that sends an uncomfortable shiver down Cara's spine.

She turns once again. Denna looks-in her simple light dress with the hint of cleavage-far from the fearsome Mord'Sith, Cara usually envisions when she thinks of Denna. By now Denna's cheeks are slightly tinted pink, her hands clench tightly to fists beside her body. Cara can tell, Denna is about to burst any minute.

And she would love to be around for that, but she has her new chambers to inspect.

"Always so eager to please me," Cara drawls more amused than is probably good for her. She meets turbulent blue eyes with a barely disguised smile, "but pleasure must wait I am afraid," her eyes twinkle devilishly. "I am sure your time will come."

Cara addresses the other Mord'Sith. "Take her away."