AN: Let me just start off by saying that I haven't read the books in about four years, so some of my details could be off. I'm probably far too old to still be writing fanfiction, but I couldn't get this story out of my head. Hell, I don't even know if people still know who Joren is, or care enough to read stories about him. If you want more, review, otherwise, it ends. Oh, italics are first person, in Joren's pov. This could become K/J but I'm not sure yet. Oh, this takes place after Lalasa was kidnapped and becomes AU after that

Regardless of whatever complaints I may have had about my life, I can never claim that it was boring. When I was young, my father used to tell me that the gods forgot to keep their eyes on me, that no one person could have as bad of luck as I did. My mother thought I was a curse. A punishment from the gods for the sins of my father. Of course, she never mentioned that theory to him.

If only my father could see me now. If he knew what I was trying to achieve, and who my current…allies are, he would roll over in his grave. That is, if he's actually dead. It seems that nowadays nobody stays dead anymore.

Before I get started, I just was to let it be known that I never claimed to be a good person. I know I'm "morally uninhibited", as the court put it, but for the record, I am trying. I do know that some people are just born without a conscience. I also know that I'm not one of them. I know I have a conscience, I just don't always listen to it. So don't judge me because I am very aware of what I am. Well, I guess now it's time to for me to share my story, huh?

Chapter One: The Rogue Formerly Known as Joren of Stone Mountain

Ok, so I know it was a stupid idea, but you have to understand how much I hated her. Not the maid, but her. The woman who my father affectionately addressed as The Whore. The Lady Page. You want to what the ironic part is? He was the one who gave me the idea to do it. But when I got caught, he pretended like he knew nothing of me, of how "obviously disturbed" I was. I bet you're wondering why I addressed my hatred for the whore (who, would murder me if she knew that I was addressing her as such) in past tense. Well, I guess it's because I only have enough in me to truly hate one person. And I could think of someone who deserved it much more.

"So how about how much will it cost to get him out of this?"

"It isn't a question of money," Lord Wyldon, the resident training master at the palace responded, tiredly leaning upon the old wooden desk in his office. From the second he heard the verdict of the young Stone Mountain's trial, he knew that this was going to be a long night.

Burchard sighed, running his hands over his face. He had a haggard look about him, with white-blond stubble dotting his chin and an aged expression hidden in his eyes. It was obvious that he hadn't slept since the beginning of the trial. He eyed the older man carefully. "It's always a question of money."

"No, Burchard, it's not. Your son committed a serious crime against our King; that can't be covered up by the exchange of a few hundred nobles."

Burchard barked out a sharp laugh. "A crime against the King? I'd hardly count what Joren did as a crime against the King."

Quietly, as to not set off the scene that he feared was coming, Wyldon spoke his next few words with extreme caution. "He kidnapped and threatened the life of a member of the Royal staff. I don't see how that can be seen as anything but."

The elder Stone Mountain's face contorted into an expression that can only be described as a scowl as his skin slowly turned a mottled purple color. "Royal Staff? Hardly! The bitch was nothing more than a maid --"

Wyldon held up a hand. "Burchard, please. Regardless of your … politics, you know that nothing I say can affect the court's decision. What's done is done."

"So what now? What's to happen to him?"

"Well, as much as I'd like to say that status doesn't affect the court's decision, the fact that he is of noble blood will keep him outside of a prison cell. However, he cannot continue his training to become a knight and has been exiled from the city of Corus for the next five years." The training master cringed after he released this news, fearing the explosion that was about to take place inside his office.

To his surprise, that explosion never occurred. After sitting in silence for what seemed like an eternity, Burchard just calmly walked across the office toward the door, with an expression of quiet resolve present on his face. Once at the threshold, he turned around and addressed Wyldon for a final time. "For seven generations, my family has valiantly served this kingdom and I won't let that record be broken. As of now, I have no son. I'll draw up the papers denouncing Joren's nobility tonight."

"Then what will become of him?"

"That's no longer my problem. In my eyes, he's already dead."