Hello all! I am pleased to present the work of two brilliant, although slightly crazy (but then, most brilliant people are crazy.) authors. We don't claim any of Tamora's creatoins, just our own, which would be the ones you don't remember from the books. Any and all reviews are good, and flames are fine, as long as they have good resoning behind them. As we are both avid Mary-Sue haters, we promise to try our best to prevent these foul creatures. Enjoy!

Sir Nealan of Queenscove,

It is with deep regret that I relay this information. Your wife, the Lady of Queenscove, has perished in a sailing accident. When her ship was caught in an unpredicted gale, she and the entire crew were believed to have been pulled under with the vessel. Little is known, except that there were no survivors. Again, it is with regret that I write this devastating information. May the God's bless you and keep you,

Nathaniel Thompson, Tortall Maritime Industry

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Neal read thesewords slowly, for what must have been the hundred-thousandth time. The paper was worn through in spots, but he had long since memorized the vile letters contents. He stood beside the tall marble marker that would represent his wife's body for the rest of time. A cold, stone idol that did no justice to Yuki's bright and warm personality. Dropping to his knees, he whispered a final promise to her.

"I'll never set foot in the sea again. I swear it to you!"

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The lord of Queenscove sat at his desk, his head bowed over a thick piece of paper. His eyes eagerly reread the words that his old friend, the Baron of Whitebrook had written. Perhaps this could be the key to bringing his son out of the hell that he had created for himself over the past year. The lord quickly set the letter aside when Neal strode into the room and sat across from him a slightly weary look on his formerly joyous face. Wasting no time with idle chit-chat, he got right to the point.

"Neal, I want you to re-marry." He held up a firm hand when his son's mouth opened to protest. "An old friend has contacted me and writes of a very favorable offer. A marriage of convenience to his eldest daughter Samria."

Neal seemed at a loss for words, but he did appear to be considering his father's words. Since he didn't immediately turn the offer down, the Lord continued

"The Baron of Whitebrook's daughter is eighteen years of age and has all of the favorable traits of a wife. She can play the harp, ride a horse, and sew quite well." Seeing the bored look on his sons face, he couldn't help but nonchalantly add "Rather amazing, considering she's blind." As he examined a lose button on his tunic. Neal sat bolt up in his chair, jaw completely slack.

"Blind As in, unable to see at all?"

"Yes. Since birth, Samria has been completely sightless. Many a healer and doctor in Tortall, and several from outside, have tried to find a way to correct it, but none have had the slightest success. It appears the Gods wish her to remain in darkness. Now, I'll give you a few weeks to think it over an-"

"I'll do it."

Neal's expression was set, and his father knew better than to pry any further. Whatever was going through his son's head, he hoped it was for the better.

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A fortnight later, Neal found himself married a second time to a woman he didn't know, a blind woman no less, and standing outside the temple with a crowd of well wishers smothering him and his new bride. To avoid gossip, they had simply "recovered" a long-lost betrothal promise between the two families. He looked down at the top of her head, shrouded in a silver veil, and once again compared her to Yuki. From what he had seen, she had dark hair and was rather pale. Neal felt that if a good wind came up, she would blow clear away she was that delicate. Her hand tightened slightly around his arm and he decided that it was well past time they were going.

As he guided her through the house, Neal kept expecting her to murmur awe at all the splendid things, only to remember that she couldn't see them. They stopped once they reached his drawing room and he saw her move out the corner of his eye. She was running her fingers along her throat, apparently searching for something. By the time he realized she wanted to take the veil off, she had already removed it and he was suddenly getting his first clear look at his wife. He had been mistaken about the color of her hair. It wasn't brown as he had first suspected, but dark gold. The second thing he looked at was her eyes. They were blue. Just plain old blue, not clouded or filmy or colorless, but simply a wide, clear, wonderfully normal blue sitting under her dark brows.

The rest of her features were just as un-astonishing. Oh, her nose was small, her lips were full and pink, and her skin was the perfect shade according to the current fashion, but she was no beauty like Yuki had been.

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Samira waited patiently while she knew her new husband was staring at her. Her husband! She was married to a man she had only met once before, at the midsummer ball her family always held at their estate. The Lord of Queenscove had introduced his son Nealan to her briefly, but she was almost certain the he didn't remember her at all. That had been the day her father had given her Beauesephules, (bee-yoo-seff-yoo-lees) her specially trained riding horse. Father had spent a large sum on training the horse, but it served her well. After many tumbles and bruises, she was confident in the saddle, as long as Beaue was under her. Her father had spared no expense on her behalf, making sure she had everything she needed. When she wanted to learn to play music, he had found her a tutor that was willing to go through the hassles of teaching a blind student. Various pets were brought in and trained for her, so she was rarely without company.

"Ahem."

She jumped at the sound of Nealan's cough; she had been so wrapped up in her musings that she had forgotten he was there. Smiling in what she hoped was his direction, she stretched out her hand. When he didn't place his in hers', she dropped let it fall to her side. This was going to be difficult.

"Umm, may I…may I see your hand?"

"My what?!"

She cringed inwardly. People always though her to forward, but this was the only way for her to 'see' them.

"Your hand. I…I want to see you, in a way and I-I need…I just need your hand." She finished lamely.

"Oh, well, here."

Samria stretched her own hand out, but didn't feel anything. Feeling incredibly foolish, she waved her hand about, trying to find his. When she finally felt him grasp her hand, she let out a nervous half laugh half sigh.

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Neal felt like an idiot. Here he was, standing there like a fool with his hand out, when she couldn't see where it was. He saw her own face flush red, and suddenly the whole situation seemed incredibly funny. He laughed, first quietly, but then he couldn't contain himself. He doubled over, laughter shaking his entire body, unable to control himself. When he finally regained his composure, one look at Samria's face made him feel guilty for nothing and everything. She looked immensely confused, but there was still that undertone of patient tolerance that she seemed to always wear. He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at himself.

"Excuse me. I don't know what came over me."

"It's quite alright. May I have your hand again?" she asked, holding out her own. Neal met hers halfway and took note of how small her hand was. She began pressing her fingers gently but firmly about his hand, slowly working her way up his arm, over his shoulder, and along his neck. When she reached his face, the pressure she was applying lessened and she was more careful. Gently she felt along his jaw, tracing his mouth and moving up over his nose to his eyes, which he shut accommodatingly. Her fingers feathered lightly across his eyelids and lashes, then up to his forehead through his hair, and back down his right arm. There she dropped his hand and folded her own behind her back. Curious, he asked what she had "seen"

"Well, you're left handed, there's a small cleft in your chin, barely noticeable, your bottom lip is fuller than you upper one and you have dimples in your cheeks. Your eyelashes are ridiculously long for a mans, your hair is nice and thick so you don't have to worry about premature baldness I don't think. There's a scar on your right hand that feels rather new. And you bite your nails."

Neal was speechless. How did she know all that, especially the part about him being left handed? When he asked, she laughed.

"Your left hand is more muscled than your right, so you obviously use that one more."

"And you got all that from just…feeling?"

"Yes. Because I have no sight, all of my other senses are heightened. I wear gloves and apply a special ointment that keeps my hands especially sensitive."

Neal knew about the other senses being better than the average persons, but he had never heard of wearing gloves and applying ointment. He was full of questions, but when her jaw nearly split with a huge yawn, he decided to keep the questions for another day. He took her hand and walked her to her rooms. As he opened the door, a merry bark echoed down the hall way and a huge reddish dog came bounding out of the door headed straight for Samria. For a terrifying moment, Neal was sure the brute was going to knock her over, but before he could react she squealed excitedly and dropped to her knees.

"Blue! How in the Goddess did you get here?" she cried as the dog, amazingly, walked gently into her outstretched arms and softly licked her face and hands. She looked up towards him smiling hugely.

"Did you bring him here for me?"

"No, until just now I didn't know this creature existed."

Her face fell. "Oh dear. I can't believe father would just send him here without consulting you first. This is Blue, my guide dog."

"Guide dog?" Neal couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Really, if she wanted a pet, he would get her a nice little lapdog to occupy herself with. A nice little lapdog or maybe a cat. He could tolerate a cat.

"Yes, guide dog. He helps me get around so someone doesn't have to bother with taking me everywhere. Watch."

With that, she stood and held her hand slightly away from her. The dog, Blue, stood also and stepped right underneath her hand. It was so large and she was so small, that her hand rested easily on its back.

"Let's go inside. " Was all she said and dog and mistress moved past the door and into the room. She didn't even brush the doorway, and when they reached the bed, she didn't knock her knees on the siding. She sat down and patted Blue on his big head and looked towards Neal, an almost smug look on her face. Well, he supposed she could keep the mongrel as long as it stayed with her and didn't mess anything up. He watched from the door way as she made her way about the room, running her fingers lightly over everything. He heard her muttering something under her breath and realized she was counting the steps it took to get to something. Memorizing the layout of the room. He found that interesting, but again stored it away to ask later. When Jhansi, the Raka maid he had hired to serve Samria, showed up, he introduced them, and then said his good nights. As he closed the door, he heard the idle chit-chat that women made to get to know each other and knew he had made a good choice in Jhansi.

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Samria snuggled deep into the warm coverlet, Blue curled up at her feet and Jhansi moving about quietly in the next room. The girl was nothing but polite and seemed most eager to help her with anything she needed. Samria had the feeling that they were going to be good friends, and as she slipped off to sleep, she felt as content and happy as she had back home.

Well, this is our first chapter! I'm so excited to be doing a Coe-write and I hope all of my other reviewers will review! Mad props to the other mastermind in this work, Pie-of-Doomeh, who has put just as much effort into this new work as I have, so if you know of her be sure and review.

Lady Mystique

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Pie-of-Doomeh