NOTE: Aaaaaaaannnnnnnnd, welcome toooooooo-drumroll- The BIG FAT REVAMP OF LIKE THE MOON!

Er, I think the opening line speaks for itself. I'm going to go through what I wrote two years ago and edit it so it's better! And…yeah!

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Once there was a girl who published what she thought should be the next Mercedes Lackey book. Misty got mad and sued that girl. The girl died and Misty triumphed. I am not that girl. Misty forever!

Kamaria's mine, so are the other characters I make up, yada yada…

:Mindspeech: thoughts

The name Kamaria means, "Like the Moon."

Muse responsible: Krathnae


Kamaria rose just after dawn, usual for her, but unusual for the rest of the Court. She dressed in comfortable gray breeches and shirt and pulled her white-blonde hair into a ponytail. She looked into her mirror absently, silver eyes roaming over her reflection.

It had been her parent's idea to name her Kamaria, "Like the Moon," when Kamaria was born. She, even as a newborn, had had surprisingly pale skin, and blinked astonishing silver eyes at her mother, startled at coming into the world.

Kamaria liked her name. It suited her.

Pulling on her boots, she quietly slipped out the garden door of her suite-the Chantrea family was one of the few to have rooms in the Palace, for they had been one of the nearest families to Haven when King Valdemar had settled, so many years ago. They had proven their loyalty, even giving the kingdom a Herald or two over the many generations, and now the family rotated between the Chantrea estate and the palace. Kamaria was the only one of several siblings here with her parents, Lord Garethe and Lady Amaya, probably for the reason of husband-hunting…something Kamaria was less than looking forward to.

If I do catch a husband, it'll probably be pure luck, Kamaria thought, wryly. I certainly don't like most of the Court boys…

Kamaria's tone of musing had good reason-she, generally permitted by her father, was rather unorthodox. Unlike most of the other nobles her age of the Court, she preferred breeches, which for one were far more comfortable-and they actually fit through doors, for another, since at the moment, the mercurial Court fashion was for wide, sweeping hoop skirts which were heavy, stiff, and barely fit through most doors. Not to mention the current fad was to wear as bright colors as possible, which was a disadvantage…

Kamaria could never wear the strong colors that were so fashionable! Even if she had wanted to, which she most certainly did not, they washed her out. Instead, Kamaria preferred pale colors, normally the 'cool' colors as well, in shades of various blues, grays, and purples-but she never wore white. Dressing in white could get you mistaken for a Herald, and was generally frowned upon…

Though who would ever mistake me for a Herald? thought Kamaria, bitterly. Everyone knew Heralds had an absolute confidence around them, thanks to their Companions.

Ah, the Companions…

Kamaria longed for a Companion, though she didn't know if she'd ever be Chosen. She yearned to reach for and touch the silken manes, the satin hides. Her thoughts fell into their ordinary pattern of melancholy wishing as she drifted through the gardens onto her usual course, entering Companion's Field, hoping against hope that this time, this time…

No. It was useless to hope. Wasn't that what they'd always been told? No matter how hard you wished to be Chosen, the odds were against you, for rarely did one who longed for the Choosing and the Heraldic life earn their wish…

Still, Kamaria ducked under the fence, unable to help herself, and began the slow walk around the Field. Companions would look up at her, then go back to their nibbling at the grass, though occasionally one would come up to her in hopes of a treat-since she had reached Haven, and began her hovering around Companion's Field, Kamaria had become known, somewhat, to them…and they knew she always had a few lumps of sugar in her pocket.

Kamaria's wistful eye traveled over the pale forms, naming each Companion she knew by sight. Gerwyn, Kei, Olwen…all of those have Chosen, I think.. But Gaiora, Helia, Kianga, Lisha, Namir-they haven't Chosen. Maybe this time. Please, this time?

Though Gaiora and Namir wandered over to receive a treat, Kamaria wasn't Chosen. The old longing welled up in Kamaria's chest for several moments, her loneliness warring with her sensibility, and the loneliness winning, for now. All that showed through her practiced Court mask, though, was a single tear, which she was too late to prevent.

She wiped it away, trying to scold herself. It wasn't probable, it probably wasn't even possible for her to be Chosen, for Companions did not Choose by the degree of loneliness…

"Heyla!" called a person Kamaria hadn't noticed. "Who are you?"

Kamaria looked, startled, through the dimming morning mist-over at a Herald-Trainee, his arm over the shoulder of his Companion. He stifled a yawn as she blinked at him, surprised, heart twisting with envy and more loneliness at the sight of his Grays and Companion…

But he was grinning at her, clearly trying to be friendly, and it would be rude not to answer. Kamaria cleared her throat and called back, "I'm Kamaria."

"C'mon over here," replied the Trainee, who looked to be about 15, Kamaria's age. "I'm Alain LaFiara, and this is my Companion, Ramya.

Kamaria's heart twisted again, in spite of herself. "She's beautiful," she managed, giving him a tremulous smile. Perhaps he'd think she was just shy?

Alain smiled. "And she returns the compliment. Hey, haven't I seen you in Court?"

"I-think so. My surname is Chantrea, and I'm here with my parents, Amaya Chantrea and Garethe Chantrea," said Kamaria.

Alain frowned thoughtfully. "I know your father is a retired Lord-General, but I'm not familiar with your mother."

"Oh. Well, theirs was an arranged marriage, but Mother was originally from Southern Valdemar," said Kamaria.

Alain laughed. "Should I be talking to you, Your Ladyship?" he said, teasingly, "I'm the son of a merchant. I used to travel with our caravan-LaFiara is a merchant Clan-and then I was Chosen, so I came here."

Kamaria just barely stopped herself from sighing with envy, both at his beautiful Companion mare-who had a silken mane and intense blue eyes…and, for some reason, she noticed, Alain was quite handsome too…the smile he had maintained was slightly crooked, but his dark brown hair complemented his bright blue-green eyes.

Alain broke their eye contact, looking at his Companion suddenly. "What? No…but then, why-" he began, replying to something Kamaria couldn't hear.

"Pardon?" asked Kamaria, politely. Her heart seemed to knot as she watched Ramya's eyes fix lovingly on Alain, emphasizing the longing Kamaria herself felt for such a bond…

She lapsed momentarily into a familiar daydream, seeing in her minds eye a single Companion trotting straight up to her, looking directly into her eyes, and saying-

"Oh, it was just something Ramya said," said Alain, shattering the ephemeral vision. "Nothing that important, really." He looked at her carefully, blue-green eyes penetrating her own silver.

Kamaria looked down at her boot-tops, embarrassed at such close scrutiny, feeling Alain's gaze on the top of her head. Ramya, too, was looking at Kamaria, her head cocked to the side-Kamaria could see her in her peripheral vision.

Suddenly, it became too much to bear. Kamaria stifled a sharp sob and spun, running with light feet atop the dew-laden grass, not even bothering to say goodbye to the Trainee as tears of pain and envy spilled from her eyes.

Alain stared after her, perplexed. :What did I do? he asked Ramya, Mindvoice puzzled as he dropped into Mindspeech.

:I-don't know. I couldn't pick up on any of her thoughts, so she probably has a trace of mind-magic, or strong natural shields without any trace of Gift. Actually, it reminds me of the shields I've seen some of the nobles under…and she is a noble, so that's probably it. But…: Ramya trailed off, cutting off the end of the ramble.

:Yes? prompted Alain.

:I think I felt-something. Loneliness, sorrow…all bottled up inside her. It's definitely not healthy, anyway.:

Alain looked after the running girl, her pale blond hair streaming back, nearly like a Companion's mane as she leaped some obstacle in the grass. She-Kamaria, she had said her name was-looked like a wraith in the tags of the morning mist, and he had seen something flash in her eyes before she had whirled…

Kamaria fled, seeing the dew sparkling in the early sun, but not really concentrating as she tried to bring her emotions to heel again. Involuntarily, the image of Alain's grinning face flashed before her eyes, and she nearly fell at the thought of him, but recovered herself and ran all the harder. Kamaria could not face him-well, not him, she amended.

The one she could not face was his Companion…

Kamaria dodged through the familiar path through the gardens and into her room, emotionally drained as she collapsed into a chair, shoulders shuddering with suppressed sobs.

And it was barely even dawn…this did not bode well for the rest of the day.


Well, there is the beginning of the BigHugeRewrite of LTM! Hope you enjoyed the new and improved first chapter, and do bear with me as I wrangle my way through rewriting the rest!

You're all loved muchly!

-Fireblade K'Chona