I've noticed a serious lack of activity over here. I thought I'd jump in and see if anyone out there is still reading/writing fanfiction for this board. Here's something for you to chew on, if you're still out there.

Summary: Cleon and Aminar have saved their fief from the floods and made enough money for a proper wedding party. All of Cleon’s friends are invited—including Kel. Who do you think she brings as a date? C’mon, of course it’s KD.

Kel’s face was calm, but her eyes raced frantically across the parchment in front of her. Surely she had misread the letter. The Protector of the Small resisted the urge to pinch herself.

“Lord and Lady Aminar formally invite you to attend the celebration of the marriage between Cleon of Kennan, and their daughter Ermelian.”

There was a second note, from her father. Kel felt her heart sink.

“Keladry, our whole family is coming, grandmother and all. We look forward to seeing you there.”

Kel caught her father’s subtle warning. Grandmother Mindelan was the family dragoness; a cunning matchmaker with a sharp tongue and lungs of leather. Miserably, Kel wished she could meet a dragon instead. The immortals, at least, were reasonable.

There was a knock on her office door. Kel’s head snapped up and she hastily tucked the letter away. “Come in.” She called.

Neal strode in, his chest puffed out. ‘He’s been like this ever since Yuki announced she was pregnant.’ Kel mused. ‘I wonder how long it will last after the babe is born.’

“Kel, did you get any…interesting mail this week?” Neal drawled. “Our lovely red-headed giant sent has sent out wedding invitations.”

“I thought he was already married.” Kel murmured.

Neal launched into a scholarly explanation. “Of course he’s legally married already; his family needed the dowry. Now that his fief is back in order, the families can afford a proper celebration. It happens quite commonly you know. In 452, there were several prominent noble families along the Southern border—

“Thank you Neal. Are you planning to go to Cleon’s celebration?” She asked calmly. She folded her hands behind her. Neal blinked.

“No, I’m not leaving my Yamani Blossom behind. I’d pine for her, and our unborn young one. I—

“Thank you, Neal.” Kel interrupted. “If that’s all…

“What’s got you so tight-lipped?” Neal frowned. After spending almost a decade at Kel’s side, Neal had learned to see through her calm exterior. “I haven’t seen you this upset since we returned to Steadfast. You’ve got your martyr’s face on.”

“My what?” Kel asked. It was her turn to blink with surprise.

Neal waved his hand aimlessly. “Whenever you’re about to do something that you know is going to get you in trouble. Like when you used to sneak off to fight Joren when we were pages. Like when you finally got down from the needle and faced Wyldon. Like when you left for Scanra—or when you returned to Steadfast. You know you’re about to be punished for something, and you’re getting prepared to take it.”

Kel sank into her chair. “My whole family is going to be there. My father has—diplomatically—made it clear that I must go.”

“It won’t be that terrible.” Neal assured her. “If ol’ copper-top does anything underhanded, I can name threescore of former convicts willing to defend your honor.” He grinned evilly. “Not that Cleon’s a match for you anyway.”

Kel winced. Match. Matchmaking. Her grandmother. Kel was turning twenty soon, and she could count all her swains with one finger. Meanwhile, her sisters, Adalia, Oranie and Patricine all had husbands. Her sisters had each provided their grandmamma with great-grand babies.

“Kel, look at me.” Neal forced a firm finger under her chin. She felt like she was ten years old again. Neal raised an eyebrow ironically. “I hate to think we’ve spent all these years saving each other’s arses; and after everything you still don’t trust me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid everyone will think I’m a failure.” She mumbled. She stood and paced the small floor of her office. “You don’t know what it was like, living with my sisters-in-law. My family nickname was ‘the cow.’”

Neal erupted in laughter. Kel glared at him. “Meathead…” She warned.

He coughed and shuddered as the laughter subsided. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Dom.” He gasped.

‘Dom?’ Something sparked in Kel’s brain. It was time to take a note out of Raoul’s book.

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Dom’s eyes raced across the letter. Kel needed help? An escort to Cleon’s wedding celebration? Dom remembered the red-headed knight well. Touchy fellow, in more ways than one. Poor Kel. Dom wondered if she was still stinging from her failed courtship. In her letter, she made it clear she didn’t expect anything from Dom. She planned to take him ‘as a friend’ only.

Oddly enough, the Sergeant felt mildly insulted. Kel didn’t want him, romantically at least. She saw him as a friend, nothing more. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He could name threescore of women who wanted him as more than a friend. All he had to do was smile and wink, and a woman was his. Was Kel really immune to him? He grinned. He would use the party as a means to find out.

AMAZING
UTTERLY BRILLIANT

Taaaaaaabby <3

You always right the best K/D. I thought Neal was just a tad bit too brainy, but otherwise it is perfect.

  

Aha! I must say, I don't think it's up to your usual standard, to be honest, but it's still really good. I enjoy your brand of humor, and you have Kel down to a T.

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Can you pin-point where the style/quality differs? I'm curious (though I do think you have a point). This was designed to be entirely more fluffy than my usual work, so that might be something to blame.

"You have Kel down to a T."

*blushes furiously* I try.

Merci.

Um, I think it might be the fluff aspect, as well as Neal's character being a bit off. It seems that he was not quite that intellectual or pompous, as well as it seems he knows her too well to be true. I can't quite put my finger on it, but maybe that helps?

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Neal...like I mentioned in another post, this was originally placed on Fanfiction.net, back when I frequented that community as well. I picked up on some of the more common errors in interpreting his character. Namely, I put him on speed. He's moving lightening fast, switching topics like he's got a sudden case of ADD.

I need to slow him down.

Aha! Yeah, that makes sense. But more then that- maybe it's just me, but does he know Kel that well, and would he know that she was troubled, with all his own troubles?

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It´s great!!

Wow, that's fantastic! Really well written, almost sounds like Tammy herself did it!

It's cool that it's about Cleon and his bride too, you don't get much fanfiction with them

More?

I see from your other post that you visit fanfiction.net. Sweet. This story was posted there a while ago (though I never finished it... )

I love it! *loves it*
Write more! *remebers manners* Please.

Dom sat at the top of the watchtower, idly wishing he had Kel’s spyglass. There was a party approaching, and his eyesight wasn’t sharp enough to identify them. As he squinted, someone in the party hoisted a familiar banner. Double banded, with an owl in the center. Dom grinned as he imagined Kel’s embarrassed blush. He also remembered sewing that flag himself.

Soon enough, the group passed under the archway and entered the Steadfast courtyard. Dom jogged down the tower stairs, determined not to look too eager. Nevertheless, by the time he reached the courtyard, his face was flushed and his breathing was heavy.

“Merric.” Dom gasped. “You made it.” He wiped his brow and straightened.

Merric dismounted in a graceful leap. The man had recovered from his injuries in the Scanran war. “Kel, look who’s rushed out to greet us.” The noble exclaimed.

Kel handed Peachblossom’s reins to Tobe. She crossed over to them and grasped Dom’s forearm. “Glad to see you.” Her voice was warm; but it lacked the friendliness of an interested female. Dom tried not to let his disappointment show. Kel wasn’t reacting to him as he’d hoped. He’d imagined there was a spark between them when she was a squire, but it seemed to have faded. “Thanks for coming with us.” She added softly. Dom grinned.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He purred. A flicker of confusion crossed her features. She shook her head slightly and turned away.

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Kel prowled the grounds as she searched out Raoul. Her thoughts flickered briefly to Dom’s over-warm greeting. If she were anyone else, she would’ve sworn Dom was flirting with her. She grinned self-depreciatingly. No, her pride WANTED her to believe Dom was flirting.

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The next morning, Kel, Merric, Dom and Tobe set out for Kennan. It was just after dawn, and each traveler was still fighting sleep. Raoul had thrown a party the previous night, and Merric in particular seemed to be nursing a hangover.

last night:
Kel tried to stick to the outer fringes of the dance floor. Some of the taller men in the company were brave enough to ask her a dance, and she graciously accepted them all. They were her friends, and it would be rude to refuse. Ladies were in short supply, and Kel soon found that she’d danced to almost every song.

Finally, she managed to escape from Lerant and she made a beeline for the tables. She breathed deeply and poured herself a glass of hard cider. The bench creaked as a familiar blue clothed figure sat down beside her. “That’s an interesting dress, Kel.” Dom remarked, as he reached for a cup of his own.

She smiled distractedly, sipping her drink. “Lalasa can make anyone look good.” She answered.

“Your former maid?” Dom asked.

“Yes. You know her?” Kel responded.

“Only through Neal’s letters. He said you abused him most cruelly as you taught the woman to defend herself. I can’t help liking her for that.”

Kel choked on a laugh. Dom patted her back as she coughed; there was a familiar mischievous glint in his eye. “Mindelan, if I’m to escort you to the wedding, shouldn’t we practice a few dances?”

Kel pursed her lips, thinking. “That might help.” She answered slowly. “But, honestly, you know how to dance, and I’ve passed all my etiquette classes. If I can survive Lerant, I don’t see why I’d have any trouble dancing with you. All court gossip says you’re quite good at twirling the ladies about.”

“On the dance floor or off?” Dom asked innocently. Kel punched his arm.

“Both.” She admitted. A look of inexplicable disappointment crossed her features. Dom almost recoiled. It was plain that she disapproved of his womanizing ways. She rose and wandered off. Dom’s eyes rested on her retreating figure, fully aware of how the dress hugged her frame. Talented Lalasa may be, but she’d had plenty to work with.

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They arrived at Kennan by the end of the week. Merric moaned in relief at the thought of a warm bath and clean sheets. On the other hand, Dom lamented the piteous lack of mud that lay behind the manor’s walls. “You sound like Milord.” Kel commented. “I hope you don’t plan to spend the entire party behind a curtain.” She shot him a wicked grin and kicked Peachblossom into a gallop.

“Did Kel just make a joke?” Merric asked. He blinked rapidly. “Did she just…

Dom didn’t answer as his spurred his own horse to chase after her. Merric growled and set out after the two. Tobe brought up the rear, wondering what had his lady acting so odd.

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Cleon and Aminar greeted the travelers warmly. Merric and Cleon clasped forearms. Then, Cleon turned to Kel. First, he raised his arms as if to hug her. Kel moved to accept the embrace, but then he stopped. He held out his hand, which she took. For an agonizing moment, he struggled to decide whether to kiss the hand or not. Kel ended his inner debate by withdrawing her hand and bowing. Kel saw the tense look in the couple’s eyes. Cleon had been honest with his wife about his relationship with Kel. The Lady Knight tried not to blush. Aminar’s eyes were plainly worried. Did she think Kel envied her? Kel bowed deeply to Aminar and stepped back.

“Lovely home you’ve got, Kennan. Lovely wife too, if I may be so bold.” Dom reached out and gently placed a kiss on Aminar’s hand, breaking the tension. Kel held in a sight of relief as the lady blushed prettily. With a sinking sense of self-pity, Kel noticed Aminar had dimples. Cleon’s wife also had long blond curls, bright blue eyes and a petite, curvy figure. Kel felt ten feet tall and clumsy.

“Kel, your family arrived a few days ago. Anders said he wanted to see you as soon as you arrived.” Cleon remarked.

Kel nodded numbly. “I’d best not keep him waiting then.” She said, with a lightness she didn’t feel. She bowed to the couple and strode away, wishing she didn’t feel everyone’s eyes on her back.

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Kel found Anders in the Kennan sitting room. He stared at a chessboard, lost in thought. Kel cleared her throat and he raised his gaze slowly. “Kel.” He nodded for her to sit down. “Join me for a moment, please.”

Kel sat, a strange feeling in her stomach. Anders had always been the brother who looked out for her--the one who supported her decision to become a knight. She sat across from him and waited. There was no rushing Anders.

“Father told you that our grandmother is here?” He asked quietly.

Kel nodded. Anders sighed. “He warned you then. Age has done nothing to mellow her. In fact, she screeches now more than ever.”

Kel tucked a smile behind her hand. Anders continued, “there will be plenty of men—single men—at this event. Grandmother has dropped hints that she will not allow you to leave this ceremony unattached. I heard you were bringing a guest?”

“Domitan of Masbolle.” Kel informed him. Anders frowned.

“That feckless loaner? Tell me you’re not considering him as a match.” His voice was even, but there was an angry spark behind his gaze. Kel leaned back, surprised.

“I hoped that by having an escort, grandmother would refrain from asking about my prospects.” Kel admitted, looking down. She raised her head again and searched Ander’s face. “Domitan is just a friend, but tell me, would he really be such a terrible match? His family is in the book of Gold, he has lands to his name, a title—

“And he is ‘just a friend’.” Anders reminded her, with a small, tight smile. “I remember Masbolle when he was younger, fresh out of his training. I could still fight back then.” A wistful look crossed his aging face. With a start, Kel realized her brother was approaching middle age. “He could fight, command, he had charisma—but Kel, he’s not the sort of man for a lady to get involved with. He is handsome enough, I suppose, but he will not give up his post for a woman. I remember several of my wife’s friends who lost their hearts, and in one case, their honor to him.” Kel stifled a gasp.

“Thank you Anders.” She answered finally. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Dom taking an interest in me, however. I’ve found that men tend to fall for smaller, dimpled ladies who smell like flowers and have waistlines about the size of my arm.” On an impulse, she rolled up her sleeve and flexed her large bicep. Anders chuckled.

“I have a feeling that if Domitan stained your honor; you’d not need any of us Mindelan men folk to fight for you. I’m proud of you Kel, as proud as a brother can be. And I feel there are plenty of men who will find you attractive. I’ve an old friend who particularly loves tall women. If you’d like, I could introduce you.” He rose and kissed her forehead.

Kel hugged him fiercely. “Anders, thank you.” She blinked back tears. It was good to see her brother again, even if it meant she’d have to face her grandmother later.

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Dom paced around his temporary quarters. He remembered Anders of Mindelan, and he was quite sure Anders remembered him. Dom cursed his luck. Anders was stiffly chivalrous, he had never approved of Dom’s private life. Dom liked to think he’d grown up since then, that he’d learned from his past mistakes, but Anders wouldn’t see it that way. No doubt Anders planned to warn his little sister. Kel was getting farther out of reach by the second, and as time passed, Dom was starting to realize how much he wanted her.

He pictured her in his mind’s eye. Tall, fair skinned, with youthful freckles and thick eyelashes, which hooded her soft hazel eyes. Her nose was delicate and small; her lips full and always ready to smile. She was tall, but Dom was taller still. Her body was a testament to her training; he’d never seen a woman more muscled. He found her build intriguing, something different from his usual fare.

She’d been his comrade, his second in command. She was fiercely intelligent. She rivaled even Raoul in strategy. Because she’d worked with him so long, Dom had gotten to know her as a person. For a while, he had forgotten to see her as a woman. Since she’d asked him to come to the wedding, it seemed that was the only way he could think of her: as a lady. Not a gently reared, pale-faced girl, but a hard working, unshakeable, and unattainable woman. She too, had grown up in the last five years. It was evident that Kel was comfortable with who she was and what she could do.

Dom groaned. If Kel were with him, she’d say that Sakuyo laughs. He was about to make a fool of himself, and he knew it.

I like how Dom is pictured as the 'bad guy'. You do not find that too often, and it is refreshing. It is kind of rushed and I would have liked to hear morea bout the journey. However, the this is a pot and kettle situation. =}

  

I really like it, though I guess the one thing about me and fluff is that I'm never quite used to it, because the writer always has to subtly change one of the characters to make the romance work. But, it's really good as far as fluff.

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I agree with Sstarlz and Rojo.
Brilliant!

--Fannny

“Keladry! Turn about, let me get a good look at you.” The sharp, ringing tones of Baroness Dorota of Mindelan resounded in Kel’s ears. The Lady Knight exhaled quickly and tried to pull a calm mask over her face. Grandmamma could be terrifying when she wanted something.

Kel slowly turned in a full circle. She was glad to be wearing her second best dress. Her petticoats swished softly. She completed the move with an exquisite curtsey. Dorota harrumphed. “I see you did learn something in those eight years at the palace. This may not be as bad as I feared.” The elderly woman seemed to be muttering to herself. Kel risked a look around. She still hadn’t seen her mother, father or any of her family except for Anders. And now Grandmamma.

Baroness Dorota barely reached Kel’s shoulder. She walked with a strict, upright carriage, which supported her tendency to throw her nose in the air. Her hair should have appeared gray, but Dorota paid a mage to color it chestnut brown. The color seemed slightly out of place when juxtaposed with the deep lines of her aging face. Her steely gray eyes seemed to be sinking into her head, though her gaze was still direct and shrewd.

She wasn’t a cruel woman, Kel decided, but Dorota was used to fighting for what she wanted. Her stubborn temper helped secure the Mindelan family among the ranks of Tortallian nobility. And Dorota made sure her family never forgot that.

“Of course, most of the muscle will have to go. A suitor will be looking for a woman, not a rock.”

Kel heard that, and silently decided to take Dorota’s words as a compliment. At least it was better than being a lump. The woman had cornered Kel in her quarters. The room now felt small and restricting. Kel fervently wished she were staying in a tent instead. Finally, she understood Dom’s inclination for mud and cold. It was better than listening to this.

“My child, you’ve wasted your best years. I was hoping that Pier’s youngest would secure a name at least in the Book of Silver, but now…” She tutted and sighed. “We’ll do our best.” Forcefully, Dorota reached up and grabbed Kel’s chin. The old woman’s direct, commanding gaze burned into Kel’s. “Tell me once, and I’ll believe you. Have you ever lain—

“Milady mother, we were just looking for you.” Ilene of Mindelan floated in, smiling as though she’d just watched the sunrise. Piers bounced behind her, his shorter legs worked furiously to keep pace with his wife. Ilene continued. “When we heard Kel had arrived, we knew you would be excited to see her.” Ilene embraced her daughter. “We’ve seen Domitian already. He seems like a nice man.” Ilene’s eyes danced. Kel blushed.

“Domitian?” Dorota repeated.

Ilene curved her neck gracefully. “Domitian of Masbolle, Sergeant in the King’s Own.” She clarified. “I believe Kel has worked with him for years now; they both served under Lord Raoul during Kel’s years as a Squire.”

“The Masbolle family is in the book of GOLD!” Dorota crowed. She clapped her hands briskly. “Excellent, better than we could have hoped for. If he was roped into being your guest—to a wedding, no less—we are moments away from capturing him.” There was a gleam of triumph in her eyes.

“This is a man, milady, not a wild horse.” Ilene murmured, with a significant glance at Kel.

Kel barely controlled the urge to giggle…or snort. Her mirth faded abruptly as she realized how far the conversation had gone. Grandmamma had her already walking down the aisle with a man she considered ‘just a friend.’ Kel swallowed hard.

“Grandmamma, I asked Dom to come strictly as a friend. I don’t think he’ll take kindly to any marriage proposals.” Her voice was soft, but firm. She would not compromise her friendship with Dom.

“Ah. I thought it sounded too good to be true.” Dorota let out another small sigh. She patted Kel’s hand sympathetically. The Lady’s disappointed lasted only a few moments. “If he is not interested, we’re back where we started. Anders has a young friend, Pavel of Pearlmouth; single and of age. We might try him first.”

“Keladry, why don’t you go greet your sisters? They’re washing up for dinner. Third door down the hall, on your right.” Ilene’s voice allowed no argument. Kel nodded meekly and curtsied again. Then the Lady Knight retreated as fast as she could.

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Ilene rounded on her mother-in-law. “I told you my daughter will marry when she’s ready.” She snapped.

Piers bit back a groan. “Dearest, she’s only trying—

“She’ll never marry at all, stuck up in those Northern Mountains, surrounded by peasants!” Dorota retorted. Her nose lifted in a disgusted sniff.

“We’re descended from peasants, mother, as you well know.” Piers correctly quietly.

“Merchants.” Dorota amended. “What was the girl thinking, bringing a man ‘as a friend’?” She nearly spat out the phrase. “She might as well confess to all the murmurings about her modesty.”

Piers could swear he saw lightening emanate from his wife’s eyes. Ilene’s face was smooth and Yamani calm, but her eyes spoke volumes. “Keladry cannot be married off without our consent.” Ilene’s words were thick and enunciated. “My three other daughters and all my sons are well married.” She gazed coolly at Dorota. “Do not let your greed consume yourself or Keladry. You will live only long enough to regret it.”

With that, Ilene swept out of the room, chin held high and defiant. Piers shook his head and followed. And they were here to celebrate someone else’s wedding. That Kennan lad, Iness’s old squire.

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By the time Kel reached the dining hall, she had long since lost her appetite. Her sisters had grown older—or more mature, as they would insist—and they made a point of sharing their newfound wisdom with their errant savage of a sister. Kel’s hair was now mercilessly pinned and tied in a tight braid, she reeked of perfume and there were smears of kohl around her eyes.

It took all six years of her Yamani training in order to keep a scowl off her face. She had faced plenty of ridicule as a page, as a squire and even as a knight, but never had she felt so ridiculous.

The Kennan dining hall showed signs of recent repair, but the guests pretended not to notice. Kel estimated fifty people in all. She also noted that her family accounted for a considerable percentage of the whole. People’s attire was casual, but clean.

She ducked her head low and found a seat as far from the betrothed pair as possible. Tobe appeared at her elbow, dressed in his finest tunic and hose. “Milady?” He asked timidly. He took in her appearance, and his young head tilted to one side. He frowned. “You smell funny.” He said finally.

His voice was so sincere that Kel had to laugh. She shook her head ruefully. “You’re lucky you have no siblings.” She informed him. He nodded dutifully in agreement.

“Tobe, the musicians are looking for a soprano. If you’re…Kel?” Dom froze as Kel turned to face him. The sergeant whistled. He tucked his arms across his chest. “Kel, we’re going to have to register that dress as one of your weapons.”

Kel scowled in earnest. “Here I am, feeling vulnerable, and you’re making fun of me.” She tried not to show her disappointment. Kel was convinced that she had overcome her crush on him, but it hurt to know he didn’t find her the least bit attractive.

Dom stepped back and held out his arms defensively. “That was an honest, if not crude, compliment. No irony at all, I swear by Mithros and Goddess. You look good, Mindelan.” He grinned and Kel relaxed.

He sat down next to her, and Kel felt a warm tingling in her belly. She tensed, annoyed by this unending infatuation. It wasn’t fair. All he had to do was smile and wink, and she nearly melted.

“May I have your attention?” Cleon stood at the end of the table, holding his wife’s hand. The seated crowd looked expectantly up at the couple. “As you well know, we’re already married.” There was a brief applause. “But you were invited here today to celebrate this marriage, in a way we could not afford several years ago. Many of you know the struggles my family underwent, and I thank every one of you who sacrificed on our behalf.” His eyes found Kel’s for a brief second.

He continued. “By the mercy and grace of Mithros, I now find myself blessed with a beautiful, kind wife, a secure land, and a better life than I could have dreamed possible. I wish the same for each of you here.” He kissed his wife’s hand reverently.

Applause thundered through the hall. Dom whistled again.

Kel looked away from the happy couple. She knew that look in Cleon’s eyes. He loved his wife, truly, honorably, unwaveringly. He had once offered Kel that kind of love, and she hadn’t wanted it. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she feel anything for a perfectly acceptable man like Cleon? Worse, why did she feel something for the unreachable and questionable Dom? Kel decided she couldn’t trust her taste in men. When she was ready for marriage, perhaps it would be best if her grandmamma took care of it.

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Because she was in a mood, Kel saddled Hoshi and took the mare out for a ride. As they explored Kennan, Kel felt the storm in her chest begin to settle. The forests were thinned by the recent floods, only the biggest trees and youngest saplings remained. Kel led Hoshi through the growth, willing herself to relax. “I am stone.” She muttered under her breath. She pictured a calm, sunny lake in her mind’s eye. Hoshi snorted and jostled Kel out of her thoughts.

Kel patted the mare’s neck ruefully and dismounted. “I suppose stones are no fun to carry.” Kel murmured. Hoshi tossed her head in agreement.

Twigs snapped behind her, and Kel spun around quickly. There was a horse and rider approaching. Kel grabbed a hefty stick and planted her feet. Better safe than sorry.

As the rider came closer, Kel saw he was dressed as a nobleman. The cloak was dark leather, and the tunic underneath was a lively green. His boots were adorned with ceremonial silver spurs; his hose were a soft cream color. The horse was dappled gray—Kel estimated it was seventeen hands if it was an inch.

He stopped several feet in front of her and bowed in the saddle. He was tall, with silvering blond hair and coal-black eyes. “Good sir, I apologize if I startled you…

The man frowned as he noticed the doubled-banded badge on her chest. “Lady Knight.” He amended. “You must be Keladry of Mindelan. I am honored. Anders told me all about you.” He paused. “He neglected to mention you were so beautiful.”

Kel felt a sharp pain in her chest. He was obviously trying to be polite, but the compliment fell flat. Even up close, he’d thought he was addressing a man. She forced herself to smile.

“Any friend of Anders is a friend of mine.” She replied. Kel started to bow, and thought better of it. Instead, she gave him a shallow curtsy. He nodded respectfully and dismounted his own horse.

“I am Pavel of Pearlmouth, Godfather to Cleon of Kennan.”

Kel tried not to let her surprise show. Her brother planned to match her with a man old enough to be her father? It happened in court occasionally, but she’d never imagined…

‘What did you expect?’ Kel thought grimly. ‘To marry for love?’

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Dom lazed in the sunny afternoon at Kennan. Out in the field, he was removed from Anders and Kel’s suspicious family. Dom chewed thoughtfully on a piece of long-stemmed grass. Why in the name of Kyprith’s beard had he agreed to this? Because Kel was his friend, and she needed help.

Dom pulled a letter from Meathead out of his breast pocket. He broke the seal and skimmed the letter’s contents.

“My Dear Cousin,
In the nicest possible way, I suggest you treat Kel with the respect she deserves. From what I’ve gathered, her family won’t. She recently admitted to me that her step-sisters used to call her “the cow.” Do not tell her I shared that secret. Our Lady Knight is more vulnerable than she leads us to believe. The Protector of the Small may require your protection, at least socially. Try not to be your oafish, womanizing self for once. If I find out she was harmed on your watch, you can look forward to a life of warts and ingrown toenails.

P.S. Yuki says she’ll give you a painful lesson with her glaive if Kel isn’t returned in one piece.

P.S.S. In the name of decency, I can’t write what the men-at-arms say they’ll do to you if something should happen to their Lady. For your sake, and hers, be careful.

Yours cheerfully, Nealan of Queenscove

Dom laughed aloud and tucked the letter away. Ah, poor Kel. It was a good thing Neal had written that letter. Kel was incapable of asking for help. She was independent to a fault; although she understood command well enough. Dom sighed and lay back in the grass.

He dozed off, but was re-awakened by the pounding of hoofs against the earth. He blinked blearily and stood. Kel and Hoshi galloped back to the gate, with another horse and rider in tow.

Dom rose and dusted himself off. Ruefully, he realized he looked rather pitiful for a nobleman with a family in the book of Gold. He wore a retired uniform from the Own; the tunic was faded and the hose were worn at the knees. He probably resembled Stefas rather than Milord.

He waved down the riders, and Kel adjusted their course to meet him. Hoshi trotted to a stop and nudged Dom good-naturedly. The sergeant blew politely on the mare’s nose, and Hoshi responded by lipping the front of his tunic.

Kel looked horrified, “Dom, I—

Dom waved his hand aimlessly. “Don’t apologize, Mindelan, I’ll just have to wear something different to the feast tonight.”

Kel expertly turned her chuckle into a small coughing fit.

The second rider had been several yards behind Kel, and by the time he caught up, Dom’s old tunic was covered in horse spit.

The two men eyed each other. Both were unsure what to make of the situation. Kel explained, “Pavel of Pearlmouth, allow me to introduce my friend, Domitan of Masbolle.”

Pavel peered down at Dom. The older man spoke slowly, as though piecing information together on the spot. “Anders mentioned…Dom, is it?” Pavel glanced over at Kel. “He is your…guest for the celebration, correct?”

Because Kel came from a family of diplomats, she ignored Pavel’s dry tone and deliberate hesitation. She dismounted and placed an affirming hand on Dom’s shoulder. “Yes. Dom is my escort for the ceremony.”

“That’s correct.” Dom chimed in. “We’re very old, dear friends. Kel and I served together under Lord Raoul in the King’s Own.”

A look of mild distaste crossed Pavel’s features. “The Own is not what it used to be.” He sighed regretfully. “When I served…” He caught himself. “Many of the changes are for the better.” He amended hastily. “Certainly, the realm needed a new fighting force after the gate to the divine realms was opened. And the return of Lady Knights has inspired the nation’s womenfolk, thereby garnering extra fighters. I meant to say that the Own used to be a more…selective group.” He re-gathered his reins and straightened his spine. “It was pleasant to meet you, Keladry. I look forward to perhaps sharing a dance with you this evening?”

Kel politely accepted the offer. Pavel nodded curtly to Dom, and then spurred his horse into a gallop.

Kel and Dom watched as Pavel disappeared. Dom raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What do you need me for, if you’ve got savants like him?”

“I invited you to ward off ‘savants’ like him.” Kel retorted. “He’s an old friend of Anders, but….” She shrugged and looked away.

Dom frowned. “What?” He prompted.

Kel seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. “I don’t understand why he’s interested.” Her gaze bordered on desolate. “I have a small dowry; my noble lineage is only two generations long.” She paused and pursed her lips. “It might be that my family is popular in court, thanks to Shinko and the Yamanis. However, Pavel doesn’t strike me as a political demon. I never saw him at any of the Court functions I served during my page years.”

“You’re ignoring the obvious.” Dom commented wryly. “Love, attraction…remember all those good things the bards sing about?” He waited and watched her reaction carefully.

Kel’s smile was weak and utterly false. “I ignored those for the obvious reasons.” She let her words sink in for a moment. “We crossed paths in the forest; at first Pavel thought I was a man. Once he realized his error, he proceeded to compliment my beauty.”

Dom snorted. “Of course. I immediately noticed his tact.” Kel loved the ironic note in his voice.

“Sometimes you remind me uncannily of our dear Meathead.” She nudged his ribs playfully. “I’ll have to make sure you eat your vegetables tonight.” Dom noticed she was smiling again.

He held up his right hand. “Your wish is my command, Lady.” Dom replied gravely. The sergeant threw up his arms in a classic Neal stance. “You have bewitched me with your charm, utterly beguiled me with your grace,” he bowed extravagantly, “for you I would brave the perils of the Copper Island Jungles. If you wished me to be silent, I would declare myself a mute.”

It was Kel’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “How would a mute declare anything?” She inquired flatly. “And cut it out, Cleon used to—

She stopped suddenly, surprised at how much that wound still hurt. Kel was certain she was no longer in love with Cleon, but occasionally, she missed the feeling of comfort, respect. As long as she was being honest with herself, Kel admitted she missed that feeling of being adored.

She coughed and shrugged. “I should get back to my rooms. My mother wanted to see me before dinner.” She finished weakly.

Without another word, Kel swung her leg up and over the saddle. She gave Dom as crisp salute before spurring Hoshi toward the Kennan residence.

Dom sat back in the grass and rubbed his forehead. He’d never seen Kel so vulnerable, so lonely. She had even grown cynical, for Mithros’s sakes. The men had come to see Kel as an idealist, like Raoul.

Dom had to admit, he liked her dry sense of humor. She was practical, and not easily fooled.

But it looked as if Neal was right.

Early the next morning, Kel made her way to the Kennan courtyard. Her guest room was too small for a proper pattern dance, and she needed the exercise. Tobe rolled over as she slipped past his cot. He snored lightly, but remained asleep. A smile tugged at Kel’s lips. She would miss him when his bond was paid.

The Kennan manor was well-situated at the top of a hill, safe from any future floods. The courtyard view overlooked many of the fief’s green fields and modest cottages. In the orange light of the sunrise, the view was breath-taking, romantic.

Kel looked away from the horizon and focused on the packed dirt underneath her feet. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and set her body for the first stance of the pattern. She swept through the dance, her muscles moved seamlessly, without conscious direction. She focused her mind on the feeling of control, the ease the sweeps, and the satisfaction of the wind whistling around her.

As the sun rose over the edge of the retaining wall, Kel felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Sweat began to trickle down her back. With one last butterfly-cut, she finished the dance.

She sighed. Odd as it was, she missed the bustling energy of New Hope. The Kennan fief slept with a quiet peace, content as a noble child.

Breakfast wouldn’t be served to the guests for another hour or so, but Kel felt her stomach purr restlessly. She wandered through the castle halls and trusted her nose to find the kitchen.

888888888

Anders awoke before dawn, as was his custom. He kissed his wife gently, and rose from bed to begin his exercises. The healers said the stretches would help keep the rest of his leg strong, though he had never entirely understood why that was important.

He bit his cheek as pain gripped him. Anders found he did not like feeling old. With a grunt, he stood and reached for the ceiling. The joints in his back popped and he released the breath he’d been holding.

Anders looked out the guest room window. From his vantage point, he spotted his mule-headed little sister waving her pig-stick to and fro. Her pattern dance was impressive by any man’s standards. A smile touched Ander’s face.

He wished he’d had the courage to support her; to be there and answer the questions she must have had. Gods, not that he could have helped her with womanly complications, but he should have been there for her combat training. Their parents convinced him it was better to let her fight on her own. She would survive, they said. It looked as if their parents had been right.

8888888888888

Kel finally located the kitchen. The smell of fresh baked bread had her stomach doing somersaults of anticipation.

She cautiously stepped through the doorway, careful not to startle anyone. A serving boy looked shocked to see a guest awake so early, but he quickly dashed off on his errands. Kel approached a young woman bent over a pot of porridge.

“Excuse me, miss.” Kel started politely.

The woman looked up, and Kel took a step back. Ermelian looked back at the lady knight and raised one eyebrow quizzically. “Keladry, I’m surprised to find you awake so early. Most guests won’t be dragged from their beds for another hour or so.” Ermelian’s blond hair was pinned back in a simple braid; she tucked a stray strand behind her ears. Her dress was rough, and her whole appearance seemed more….common.

“I am just as surprised to see the lady of the house awake at this hour.” Kel replied smoothly. Inwardly, she cursed her luck. Of all the women in the castle, Emerlian probably had the most reason to dislike Kel. And the Lady Knight wasn’t ready to deal with another angry woman this week.

Ermelian smoothed a wrinkle in her dress and motioned for another servant to come watch the pot. “Is there something I can get you?” She asked gently. Emerlian led Kel over to the servant’s dining table. The ladies sat down.

“I was just hoping to beg for an early breakfast. There’s so much of me to feed, you see.” Kel smiled in what she hoped was a friendly, unassuming way. She patted her stomach.

Ermelian’s lips twitched. “This is terrible, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?” Kel frowned slightly.

“You look as worried as a dog who has stumbled into an empty hen house. Keladry, I think I owe you an apology.”

“I…beg your pardon?” Kel’s stomach quieted as her nerves raced.

Ermelian sighed. “I was impolite when we first met. I was nervous; Cleon talked so highly of you—no, not in that way.” She added as she saw the horrified look on Kel’s face. “I know you two hoped to marry someday, but that wasn’t what bothered me. I gave up my own swain to marry Cleon, though I don’t regret it now. Cleon feels the same.”

“Forgive me then, but why were you nervous?” Kel asked.

The young bride sighed. “You were what I wanted to be--powerful, independent, a warrior. My parents always made sure I was buried in embroidery and lady lessons. I didn’t have the Lioness’s courage or your strength. I had never farmed or cooked before I married Cleon. It was a relief to learn what real work is all about, to know how it feels to HELP someone. Cleon loved to talk about all the wonderful things you’d done, about all your adventures as pages and squires…I knew I would never be as glorious as you.”

Kel studied Ermelian once more. The demure noble lady had a quiet fire burning behind her eyes. Kel looked away. She traced her finger over the hard wood surface of the table, her eyes unfocused.

“My life is not worth envying.” Kel responded quietly. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to Ermelian or herself. “Here I am, twenty years old, unmarried, and an embarrassment to my family tree. If not for Lord Wyldon’s mercy, I would be feeding the crows on traitor’s hill. I’ve buried the corpses of my friends, and the bodies of people I was sworn to protect. Anyone who thinks glory can be found on a battle field has never seen the aftermath. Even the fighting is ugly. It’s long and messy. You feel so tired afterwards that you rarely feel you’ve won.”

Kel cleared her throat and continued. “People who talk about warriors only talk about their victories, never the losses. People talk about the heroes, the glamorous warriors who’ve done miraculous things. Not every warrior is a hero, just as not all heroes are warriors. As for me, people hate who I am and what I stand for. I’m a warrior, but I’m not a hero. I accepted that a long time ago. When I gave my oath to the crown, I gave my life to fighting the battles no one else would or could. To me, that’s what it means to be a knight.”

“But do you ever regret it? The choices you made?” Emerlian asked.

Kel thought for a moment before answering. “I’m sorry for the things I’ve done wrong, and for the people I’ve disappointed. But I don’t regret being who and what I am.”

Emerlian tentatively reached out and took Kel’s hand. “You are a hero, lady knight.” She whispered. “From all the tales I’ve heard, heroes are the ones who keep fighting, even when everyone else has lost hope. Have you ever given up, have you ever yielded in your life? Somehow, I don’t think you have.”

She pulled back and folded her hands in her lap. “At any rate, I certainly admire you, Keladry of Mindelean. And if your family thinks of you as an embarrassment, they’re not the sort of family you should be proud of.” She patted Kel on the back. “I think I can scare up a couple of eggs for your early breakfast. The bread will be done soon too. Do you like honey with tea?”

Kel looked with amazement at the younger woman. “Thank you.” Kel answered weakly.

Breakfast that morning was the best Kel had tasted in a while. She finished long before other guests began to stumble toward the dining hall.

Kel had a desperate desire to scratch her nose. There were no physical impediments, but Dorota’s piercing stare made the Lady Knight think twice.

Grandmother dragoness had strategically placed herself across from Kel at the dinner table. Kel wondered how her grandmother had managed to change the Kennan arrangement.

Dom was highly cheerful, and highly oblivious to Dorota’s watchful eye. While he was seated on Kel’s left, he chatted and flirted with the other guests. One young noble lady across the table seemed particularly intrigued by the handsome commander. Kel noticed the woman’s interest and hid a frown of dismay. A mad part of Kel’s mind argued “if I can’t have him…”

She tamped the thought down. She couldn’t fault him for being interested in the rosy-cheeked, willowy, red-headed flirt. The Lady had sparkling green eyes and a soft, lilting voice. She appeared to be older than Kel, perhaps closer to Dom’s age. She leaned forward in her chair and seemed to hang on Dom’s every word. The way the lady leaned gave everyone opposite her an ample view of what her low-cut dress was failing to cover.

Kel, by contrast, sat stoically upright. Her face was smooth, devoid of emotion. Her hazel eyes rested calmly over the nightmare playing out in front of her. She too, had a lower neckline than usual, but she lacked the languid grace and carelessness of her competition. Kel’s dress was fine spun cotton, and it was form fitting without being restrictive. The dress’s color was a light green, and it complimented the color of her eyes. It was one of Lalasa’s personal favorites.

Kel’s nose definitely tickled. She tried to subtly wrinkle it, but that didn’t help. Her napkin sat temptingly on her lap, but she knew it was unladylike to blow one’s nose at the dinner table. Perhaps she could excuse herself for a moment.

“If only you could see the menagerie Kel has collected over the years. We men of the third company think she’s got wild magic, but won’t admit to it. She houses a whole flock of sparrows, a warhorse meaner than a clan of Scanrans—she raised a griffin once.” At Dom’s mention of Kel’s name, she turned her head towards him.

“The sparrows and the warhorse earn their keep, soldier.” Kel interjected dryly. She raised an eyebrow accusingly at Dom.

Her friend placed a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. “And what of me, fair lady? Without my assistance, who would cook your meals on the road? Who would sew the fort flags? And who would keep the children safe while you’re off fighting Scanran mages?”

Kel sighed wistfully. “If only Lerant could sew…

The red-haired lady smiled slyly and sat back in her chair. “I have heard that you, lady knight, have no lack of male companionship. But then,” she inclined her head modestly; “there are others who suggest you prefer the company of a woman.” She batted her eyelashes smugly.

There were several sharp intakes of breath around the table. Dom looked offended, Dorota looked furious, while Kel and her parents remained impassive.

Kel met the woman’s gaze levelly. “I’m sorry, but you’re not the type I favor.”

Dom laughed. The red-head looked livid. Her pale cheeks flushed, her eyes flashed dangerously. People laughed uneasily and returned to their conversations. The woman stood shakily and excused herself from the table.

Kel felt as though the itch in her nose had just been scratched. She let Dom see the amusement she felt. Dom placed his hand lightly over hers. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. If I’d known that’s where the conversation would end---

“It’s not your fault.” Kel reassured him. She tried not to be distracted by the warm, gentle pressure of his hand on hers. She explained, “In Yamani, that isn’t an insult. People are what they’re made to be. It’s Northerners who think there is something unnatural about that kind of love.”

Dom pursed his lips for a moment. He chewed thoughtfully on a piece of steak. Kel thought their conversation was over, but then Dom spoke again. “I think the Yamanis are probably right. Love is love, and that should be the only thing that matters.” He grinned at her, and leaned close to her. His warm breath tickled her ear. He whispered, “To be honest, she wasn’t my type either.”

Kel froze. She longed to ask what type he DID favor. When he pulled away, their eyes met, and her mask slipped. Heat shot through her body, making her light-headed and wide-awake at the same time. She shivered and tried to quell the feelings.

Dinner was over, and guests began rising for the dance. Dom stood and offered his hand. His smile flashed again. Helpless, Kel accepted.

The music was slow and soothing. Dom’s hand rested on her back, his other confidently grasped hers. She let him lead her across the dance floor; she trusted her feet to follow his. They didn’t speak much. Kel struggled to keep eye contact. Everything was plain on her face, she knew it, and she knew he could see what she’d tried to keep hidden for so long. When she finally met his gaze again, she was astonished to see a similar expression on his face. This wasn’t Dom’s usual flirtatious grin, he was focused on her, his eyes sparked with something inviting. The convention of the dance stopped Kel from leaning closer, but she thought about it.

When the music stopped, so did their feet. Neither warrior seemed willing to let go, so they stood awkwardly askew while other partners changed. Someone tapped Dom’s shoulder.

“Usually, one releases a partner after the dance.” Pavel remarked mildly. “I don’t know what manners you were taught, but allow me to expand your studies.” He bowed extravagantly to Kel. “Lady, might I have the honor of this dance?”

Kel looked back at Dom. ‘I promised.’ Her eyes apologized.

She released Dom and took Pavel’s hand. Her new partner regarded her coolly, silently, like a cat watching a mouse. He guided her through the dance, chin held high and mightily. Kel wondered if she was supposed to be impressed.

When the second dance was finally through, Kel scanned the floor for Dom. A part of her wondered if the first dance had truly happened. Before she found Dom, Anders offered her his hand. Her brother’s eyes were angry, and Kel knew she was in trouble.

“Is he still just a friend?” Anders asked quietly.

Kel blushed. Anders noticed and frowned. “Kel, don’t do this to yourself. Pavel is a good man, Dom—

“Would like to cut in, good sir.” From where Dom had appeared, Kel couldn’t guess. But he had corned them on the dance floor, and his gaze burned into Kel’s. Anders had no choice. As rude as Dom had been to interrupt, it would be more rude if Anders refused.

Dom’s hand settled once more on her shoulder. Again, he leaned in close. “I’ve had enough dancing. I think I need to go for a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”

Kel nodded numbly. When the music stopped, the pair slipped away from the dance floor and escaped out into the hall. Quietly, they made it past the door and out into the courtyard. The torches were sparse, it was difficult to see.

“This courtyard isn’t like the one at the palace.” Kel remarked breathlessly. “I can barely see a thing. People will think we’re doing something we’re not.”

Dom laughed once, softly. “And what are we doing Kel? You tell me.”
“Nothing.” Kel answered defensively. “At least, not yet.”

That was super-amazingly-long! I think it is interesting to learn more about Kel's family. They really were not mentioned much during the books.

Now I want more. *winkwinknudgenudge*

  

I like it a lot. You seem to have the characters down to a T. Also I like how you didn't make Dom and Kel so blind to each others feelings as to be unbelievable like so many stories do.

Update Soon Please! You're doing an awesome job.

ARGH ITS GETTING SO GOOD! MORE!

Right, right. I entered this story in a fanfic competition on LJ, so I HAVE to finish it before the end of December now. Nothing like a little pressure to motivate me. I'll keep posting it here.

I saw that. =} After starting to read it, I was like 'Wait, I thought Tabby wrote this!'

  

“Yet.” Dom repeated. “Kel, let’s talk about “yet.”” His arm reached out and his hand cradled her cheek. His chapped, soldier’s palm was surprisingly warm and gentle against her skin. Kel shivered but couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

“Dom…I…” Kel’s mind was gone and she scrabbled to find even the smallest piece of her wits. Finding none, she stared into his eyes, looking for some hint as to what was to happen next. It was too dark to determine much, but she knew his face so well by now she could guess his expression. “Domitan of Masbolle, I am not like your previous lady friends.” She had found her honor first, it seemed.

He chuckled. “No, you are not.” He agreed dryly. “And that’s one of the things I find so very thrilling about you.” His thumb ran smoothly down jaw. “You are unlike any woman I have ever met. Over the past few years, you’ve become my conscience—did you know that? When I wonder what’s the best thing, the right thing, I find myself thinking, what would Kel do? I will admit, I’ve…‘met’ a few women in my day, and let me tell you, none compare. None would I trust with my men, my secrets, my dirtiest jokes or my little quirks. Just you.” His thumb paused. “I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted from me.” He pulled his hand away. “I just thought you should know…you deserve all those things we talked about in the field today—every one. And, I know at least one such man who already feels that way about you.”

Kel felt a sharp pain in her chest. She ached to take him into her arms right then and there, to prove she felt the same way. Part of her refused to believe he meant those things in earnest. Surely, he was merely trying to make her feel better about Pavel and her marital problems. It was what a friend would do. Part of her, that small, nagging, Neal-esque spark of her personality that she kept so mercilessly buried, rose up and demanded action.

“Dom, come here.” She commanded. He was only a few feet away, and when he came inches closer, she wrapped her knightly arms around his torso and drew him close. Her chin rested just so on his shoulder, the warmth of his body met hers, and Kel sank into a sensation of complete and utter comfort. ‘Oh. I wish I’d had the courage to try THIS years ago.’ She thought luxuriously. She nuzzled deeper into his shoulder and couldn’t contain her sigh. Kel was surprised when his breathing matched hers.

“Thank you.” She murmured. Her words slurred against the fabric of his tunic. Nevertheless, he responded with a small nod of his head and his hand returned to her face. His free arm rested around her waist, keeping her close.

They stood that way for moments on end, neither one willing to break the precious new bond. It was far better than dancing. Kel wanted badly to close her eyes and continue this dream-like state, but her better sense warned they would soon need to return to the dance hall.

“They’ll be looking for us soon.” Kel couldn’t hide the undercurrent of resignation in her tone.

Dom’s nose rubbed gently against her forehead. “Mhmm. If you were anyone else, I’d suggest we make them wait. But, you have a grandmother dragoness in there, waiting to make sure you find an appropriate suitor before the end of these celebrations.”

Confusion hit Kel like a tidal wave. The way Dom spoke, it seemed as though he did not intend to be that man. Cold ran down her spine and made her back straighten. She coughed. “You’re right.” She said crisply. “I should be husband hunting right now, not wasting my time with a man who can’t and won’t marry.” Her voice was harsher than she’d intended. She felt a twinge of guilt as Dom tensed. He never promised marriage, he’d simply offered a few kind words, and now she expected a proposal? Perhaps the winds of the North had finally whisked away the meat between her ears.

“Keladry?” Someone called from the doorway. “Are you out here?” Pavel’s plaintive accent grated against the emotions she was struggling to contain. Mithros and Goddess, she was outside in the dark, alone save for the company of a bachelor. Her first thought was to push Dom into the bushes and head back alone. Before she could give him a shove, Pavel caught sight of the pair. The light from the doorway cast a sufficient glow over the scene. Kel’s arm was extended out, frozen like a deer in a hunter’s eyeshot, she looked directly at Pavel, her face tight with barely contained anger. If she could see Dom at that moment, she would’ve noted a fair amount of misery and remorse in his expression.

“WHAT is the meaning of this?!” Pavel demanded. “Has this roguish gentleman offered you insult, lady? Allow me to defend you!” He took off his glove and waived it threateningly.

Kel intercepted his arm and explained calmly, “Dom has done nothing wrong. There was a misunderstanding on my part.”

“Don’t defend him!” Pavel cried. “Clearly he offered his distasteful, perverted—

“He offered no such thing.” Kel repeated, with forced reserve. “Are you doubting my word?”

Pavel grumbled something incoherently, still struggling to break free of Kel’s grip. “He must be punished for his offense!” He finally managed.

“For the third time, milord: he made no offense. You, on the other hand, have twice ignored my word. You may meet me tomorrow in the courtyard, where we will settle this by arms of your choice. If you wish to place coin on the duel, I will match it.” Kel secretly hoped she COULD match his coin.

The older man shrank as he realized his predicament. “Keladry, I only meant—

“ENOUGH.” She said coldly. “Tomorrow morning at sunrise. Good evening to you both!” She tried to control her gait as she strode away. In order to escape to her rooms, she first had to pass through a crowd of socially drunk nobles, all wearing smiles and completely oblivious to her turmoil. Her eyes met briefly with her mother’s, and it was all Kel could do to keep her mask in place.

She slammed the door to her quarters tightly shut, and sank down into the bed, not caring what effects her action would have on her wonderful dress. ‘Silly girl.’ Her mind chastised. ‘You’ve blown your chances with the one, and you never had any with the other. Grandmama will not be pleased.’

“Grandmama can go live with stormwings, for all I care.” Kel said spitefully.

“I sometimes find myself wishing she would.” Ilene had opened the door, and she stood inside the room, regarding her daughter. “What happened?”

Kel sat up slowly, unable to hide her blush. “I challenged Pavel of Pearlmouth to a duel tomorrow morning, because he seemed to think Dom had “offered me offense” when I iterated he had done no such thing. He first attacked my honor by assuming I could be manipulated into a compromising situation, and then refused to accept my word when I explained the situation was otherwise.”
Ilene nodded with her usual grace. “What did occur between you and Masbolle in the courtyard.”

“I don’t know.” Kel responded frankly. “He said a lot of wonderful things, words I have been waiting to hear for longer than I care to admit…and yet, I doubt he’s the sort who’s willing to give up his post to marry me. I don’t know if I even want to marry him.” Kel shrugged, and her shoulders sank low. “I made a mistake when I brought him here.” She admitted. “I wanted to keep grandmother away, maybe give her some glimmer of hope, but instead, I’ve pushed myself further into the category of future old maid.”

Her mother crossed the room and sat down on the bed. “Kel…we’re not going to force you to get married, no matter what your grandmother wishes to believe. We’re proud of what you are, and I thought you knew that.” She regarded her daughter sternly. “What makes you think we’ve changed?”

“Nothing. I know you accept me. But I am tired of being this family’s black sheep. I thought that, perhaps for once, I might be able to do something that you could be proud of without having to fight off the conservatives for my sake.” The bitterness in Kel’s voice was faint, but present.

Ilene kissed Kel’s forehead, where Dom’s nose had rested only a few minutes ago. Kel forcefully repressed that memory. “Relax. Get some sleep. Go to your duel tomorrow. We will always be proud of you, whether you end up as an old maid or a mother of twenty. As to Domitan, trust your instincts. Decide what you want from him, if anything. Determine whether he is willing to wanting to give those same things. That’s what romance is, outside of all those silly songs and plays. Be honest, be willing to risk getting hurt. Maybe you’re right, and he won’t be what you need. However, you’ll never know until you ask. Love takes courage, my dear. I can’t think of someone more capable for the task.” She patted Kel on the shoulder and rose to leave.

“And, as long as I’m being frank, I hope you kick Pavel’s arse tomorrow. He deserves it.”

Oh, joy, an update!

I love this story! I love you kept the characters real!

Yay. I LOVE Kel. Big and tall girls ROCK!

Your posts have questionmarks, dahling. At least they do on my computer.

click

hmm, it doesn't appear that way on my screen...I dunno what to tell you.

(I should post the rest of this...I'll get to it tomorrow).

(Yes, yes you should. Since it is completely finished.)

  

oh, it's fixed now. Maybe my browser freaked out or something.

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Kel woke at her usual hour. She gathered her sword and slipped past Tobe. There was no need for him to be a witness to her nonsense.

As lighter filtered over the hills and onto the practice courts, Kel waited patiently for her opponent to appear. As the tip of the sun peaked over the earth’s edge, Pavel strutted up to meet her. He held his head high, his back straight. Kel thought he resembled a cocky rooster. “One I might soon cook.” She thought grimly. At his heels were two noblemen whom Kel recognized but could not name. His witnesses, she realized. She’d brought none of her own. She didn’t need or want them, but tradition dictated.

Who could she call on, quickly and quietly at this hour? Before she could give serious thought to the question, a familiar presence materialized at her elbow.

“I like my sunrises with a side of swordsmanship.” Dom confessed.

Kel regarded him carefully. “What has you awake at this hour?” She asked neutrally. Her mind was focused on the upcoming match. Her feelings were locked and buried, out of reach for the time being.

Dom cleared his throat. “I owe apologies to a certain lady. I—

“You brought your spintry as a witness. How quaint.” Pavel intoned dryly. “Let’s get this over with before my morning bath gets cold.” He added lazily. “The coin is twenty gold.”

Kel nodded; she chose not to respond with words. Rather, she readied herself and held Griffin at the ready. When Pavel began his attack, she parried the first few strikes. His speed was considerable for his age; it nearly compensated for his lack of strength. Pavel’s style was clearly that of a courtiers’: very fine, but not weathered by years of hard combat.

She waited for his next blow. When his sword connected with hers, she slid her blade so they met at the hilts. With a hard shove, she sent Pavel tumbling backwards and into the ground. Before he could recover, her sword tip was at his throat. “Yield.” She said quietly.

Pavel’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes closed. Kel waited to hear his surrender. After a moment, she realized her opponent had fainted. She withdrew her sword and motioned for his friends to come assist him. “Get him some water. Better yet, get him to that bath he mentioned, lest it get cold.” Kel amended wryly. “I will receive satisfaction from him when he recovers. Are you satisfied with the outcome of our match?”

The bigger man nodded. “We’ll see to it you receive your coin.” He said amiably. “If you don’t mind me saying so, lady, it was a pleasure to finally see you in action.” He offered his hand. “Gareth of Mountain’s Crest and this is my brother Gavin. Our family is long associated with Pearlmouth, even its weaker branches.”

Gavin gave her a small gesture of respect. Without further comment, they lifted their fallen ally, who groaned as his neck rolled from side to side. Kel turned on her heel and went back to Dom.

“You didn’t even try to give him a chance.” Dom murmured so the brothers wouldn’t overhear.

“I have too much to do this morning to waste time on him.” Kel explained. She tucked Griffin back into his sheath and headed back toward her rooms.

Dom followed as he laughed. “Only you, Keladry of Mindelean.”

The pleasant fizzing in her stomach started to bubble, but Kel quashed it with a stern thought. NO. She said sternly. The flagstones under her feet whispered as she passed over them. Most of the castle was still asleep. With any luck, she could be gone before grandmother rose.

She reached her door as her thoughts stumbled over what to pack. New Hope was a few days ride. She would need some food, fresh clothes, Tobe…

“Kel.” Strong, gentle hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. Dom’s magnificent blue eyes bored into hers. “You’re plotting something.” He accused.

“I’m going home.” Kel announced. She met his gaze evenly, unashamed but determined. “This is not the place for me. Not weddings, not balls, not duels over petty romantic squabbles. I’m sorry for bringing you into this, Dom. I made a mistake.”

“Kel…” Dom groaned and he gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Keladry, you listen here.” He sounded uncannily like Meathead the week before. “Perhaps balls aren’t the place for you. I know you’re happiest when you’re helping those in your care, and you do your job well. But don’t walk away from this week believing that you made a mistake, or—Mithros forbid—that you’ve failed. You stayed true to your character, you upheld your honor…and over the last five years you’ve showed an old, scrappy cod like me that there’s more to womanhood than a curved figure and rose cheeks.”

“Dimples.” Kel muttered. “It’s the dimples.”

“What?” Dom asked, confused.

Kel shook her head minutely. “Never mind. It’s an old…assumption on my part. Why,” she gestured to his stance in the hallway, “are you still here?”

“I told you; there’s a lady who deserves my apology.” Dom stepped back and locked his hands behind him. His shoulders were square, like a subordinate giving a report he said, “Forgive me. I should never have put you in a situation potentially compromising to your honor. That was never my intention.”

“No harm, no report.” Kel replied evenly. She released a small sigh. Dom relaxed his posture. “I’ll stay.” She agreed. “I’ll finish this ridiculous episode.” She looked back into his eyes, and slowly, the warmth in her body returned. A slight smile grew on her face. The recent proximity of their bodies brought back sensations from last night when they’d briefly embraced. Her thoughts turned from this morning’s duel and her courtship failure to the man in front of her: her friend, her comrade, her ally, her constant crush.

She was uncertain who moved in first. Slowly, tantalizingly, their faces drew closer. Dom’s forehead gently brushed hers as he angled his head down to plant a kiss on her lips. Fire burst through every vein in her body, sweet and invigorating. She broke the kiss with a smile. “Thank you.”

***********
Kel spent the final few days of Cleon’s wedding celebrations quietly. She attended the balls but spoke as little as possible. Ilene seemed to have tamed the grandmother dragon, for the older woman never spoke of Kel’s marriage again. Pavel left the morning of his failed duel, with a brief excuse to the hosts that he had family matters to attend.

Dom was often seen at Kel’s side, equally and unusually quiet. But the gazes he saved for Kel suggested to those paying attention that the two were content in their silence.

As Kel hoisted her saddle onto Hoshi, Anders limped into the stable. “You did fall for him, didn’t you?” He asked gently.

Kel peered over her shoulder coolly. “I haven’t taken a fall since last time I jousted with Lord Wyldon.” She replied wryly. “Even then, I think they call it flying.”

Anders snorted. “I saw what you did to Pavel.” He smiled at Kel’s surprise. “I comfort myself in knowing I was right about one thing.” He paused. “You don’t need us Mindelan men folk to protect you.”

Kel tightened Hoshi’s cinch and patted the mare. She studied her older brother carefully. He didn’t look angry or even upset. The emotion she read seemed to be pleased. “Thank you, Anders.” For the first time since she was ten years old, she embraced her brother.

“Keep that scoundrel you’ve chosen in line. I trust you to handle yourself, but be careful.” Anders warned.

Their conversation was interrupted by a pair of lovers stumbling through the stable door. Merric half-carried, half danced through the walkway with a stocky yet comely brunette who giggled as they twirled. With a start, Kel realized she’d seen very little of her friend throughout the week. As the pair drew nearer, they noticed the stables were already occupied. Merric hastily broke away from his new friend and coughed. “Hullo, Mindelans.” He said brusquely. “Allow me to introduce Alice of Copperstown.”

Kel bowed respectfully. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet earlier.” She said politely.

“No worries, Love. My Merric didn’t leave me much time to spend with the rest of the guests.” Alice responded coyly as Merric turned bright red. Kel raised an eyebrow. The woman had more sass than she would’ve expected from Merric’s choices.

Kel promised to meet up with Merric again before heading out, but she made her exit from the stables as quickly as possible. Once the new couple was out of sight, Kel allowed herself to shake her head.

She found Dom and Tobe already waiting at the gates. Merric puffed to catch up with them a few minutes later. He explained, “She’s a Queen’s rider I met while I was a squire. Quite a woman.”

“Planning to keep in touch?” Kel asked mildly.

“Maybe.” Merric replied evasively. “You know warriors like me and Dom—ladies men to the last.”

Dom smiled but didn’t respond.

As always, near idnetical to Tammy. Utterly exquisite.
Will you ever start a Beka one?

Will you ever start a Beka one?

You should do a Beka/Rosto one, Tabby! Please? *puppy dog eyes*

  

I could post my "Rape of the Lock" here, though it's not really a Beka/Rosto pairing (it does, however, include some interactions between Beka and Rosto).

ohh, that one's pretty good. I read it on peircefic, I think.

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Yup. I wrote it specifically for the competition

Thank you, that's the best compliment I could hope to recieve. To me, the point of writing fanfiction is to effectively re-create the author's voice. Of course, I know we also like to have fun with absurd plots.

Almost forgot this part...
*****************

When Kel returned to New Hope, Neal was the first to greet her. His eyes were darkly shadowed, and he moved without his usual flair. The healer-knight looked ready to sleep for a month. Kel did her best to hide a knowing smile. The babe wasn’t born yet, but Neal had more than enough trouble managing the fort and caring for an expecting Yuki.

“Take the afternoon off, Queenscove. That’s an order.” She told him. Neal was too exhausted even to argue. He saluted, returned her keys, and disappeared.

She gave her reins to Tobe. Merric grabbed the remaining horses and followed Tobe. Kel and Dom stood in the courtyard, surveying Kel’s small but proud domain.

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here, Mindelan.” Dom commented. “And I’ve forgot how lovely the skin treatment in this area can be. Perhaps…” He rubbed his neck nervously. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind having one more hand around here to keep the woodwork in good shape.”

Kel raised an eyebrow. “A warrior such as yourself is more valuable under Raoul than me.”

Something wicked and suggestive sparked in Dom’s eyes in reaction to her word choice. Kel blushed. Dom smiled and explained casually, “A man has to retire and settle down sometime. Lerant is more than ready to move forward in the Own, and it would be churlish of me to deny him his due.”

“So…you want to move here and become a carpenter? A man with his name in the Book of Gold wants to retire as a woodsman?” Kel said skeptically.

Dom threw up his hands mock defensively. “My family won’t approve, I’ll grant you that. However, there’s a certain someone in my life who taught me that it’s more important to follow my dreams than my family’s expectations.”

“That person sounds mad.” Kel replied dryly.

Dom grinned and reached for her. He pulled her close to his chest. A couple of the commoners noticed, but no one interrupted. He murmured into her ear. “Mmhmm. It’s one of those little quirks in her I find so appealing.”

“You are welcome to stay.” Kel murmured back. “Though I warn you: you certainly won’t be allowed to scoop me into your arms anytime you want. I have responsibilities, a reputation.” It felt wonderful to feel so playful, even if their moment of happiness was poorly planned.

Dom stepped back and gave her a crisp salute. “Your word is my command, Lady Knight.”

“I could get used to that.” Kel admitted.

Epilogue

(ten months later):

The Lord and Lady of Masbolle formally invite you to attend the wedding of their son, First Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle and Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan.

Anders read the note and promptly dropped it. He leaned heavily on his walking stick and stared at Dom. “You’re…marrying my sister?”

Dom rode all the way from New Hope to Mindelan to tell the family. Kel was home as well, but she had decided to visit her young nieces and nephews while Dom and Anders settled their differences.

In answer to Anders’ question, Dom simply nodded.

Anders sighed. “To be frank, Masbolle, I don’t think you deserve her.” He slowly, painstakingly reached down to pick up the fallen letter. He sighed again. “But…” he continued, “she seems to want you anyway.” He shook his head ruefully. “Because I’ve come to trust her judgment, that’s enough for me.”

Anders tucked the letter into his belt and offered his hand to Dom. “Best wishes to you both. My wife and I would be honored to attend.” He said formally.

Dom smiled cautiously and took the offered hand. Anders grip was strong, but he didn’t try to crush the sergeants’ hand. Given what Kel had carefully, diplomatically, iterated about Anders, Dom took their handshake as a positive sign that perhaps, someday, Anders would come to trust him.

“Would you feel any better about me if I asked you to be the best man?” Dom joked. “The only other person I can get has meat for brains.”

Anders smile was slight, but genuine. “I wouldn’t dream of robbing Sir Nealan of the honor.” The retired knight answered mildly.

I think the end was rushed sure a wedding only takes a few days but still when you left off Kel was sure Dom wasn't the marrying type and didn't want the same things Kel did...
I think it would work better if you showed him changing instead of changed Dom suddenly being there

I...agree. Work on using your commas, though, Itsmeaha, along with periods. We approve of good grammar and punctuation here.

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Good points. I seem to have a problem wrapping up my stories...once the climax is complete, I lose interest.