Mission Not-So-Impossible
Neal sighed, but continued on his way without pausing. He was not happy about what he had to do, but he knew that it was necessary, and since he was the only one who stood a chance of succeeding, he would go through with the plan. His own personal feelings about it were immaterial; but then again, it would be his feelings that suffered if something went wrong. Neal personally thought that the others were taking some form of sadistic pleasure in sending him to deal with it, knowing full well how much he abhorred the need for diplomacy, preferring his rapier-sharp wit to the silk gauntlet of tact.
For the thousandth time, he wondered why he agreed to go on this mission, and recounted the reasons quietly in his mind. Kel was out of for obvious reasons, one of the most important being her tendency to solve everything with a fight. Cleon, although big and strong, would not be a good choice either since he lacked experience in the field of manipulation and improvisation. Prince Roald couldn't go because the people of the kingdom would be scandalized by that sort of behavior from a prince if something went wrong. Merric still was too shy and insecure, and Faleron was too polite meaning he wouldn't be any of use if the situation elevated. Esmond suffered from the same failing as Merric, and Seaver was too introverted. That left only him and Quinden. Quinden was a diffident ally at the best, only interested in causing mischief, making Neal the logical choice, and the irritating thing was that despite all Neal's sophisticated arguments, he had known that it would end in him being the envoy.
Neal nodded absently at Eda Bell who gave him a mocking smile, amused at seeing Neal in the corner of the castle that Joren and his cronies had reserved for their own use. With every step Neal took, the more doubts assailed him, slowing his previously confidant stride until he was dragging his feet along in a reluctant trudge. He paused for a second and twitched his shirt straighter, trying to adjust his tunic a little to make him look more imposing. After managing to lose a button, he decided that perhaps it wouldn't matter so much how he looked.
Not that it matters how well I am dressed, I'll probably be overshadowed anyway by that pretty-boy so I might as well act as if I don't care what the outcome of this is, Neal reasoned to himself, nodding with satisfaction at his conclusion. He walked down the hallway slowly, knowing that he had more than enough time left yet feeling a little queasy for reasons barely connected to his mission.
'If the others knew, surely they wouldn't have trusted me with this,' Neal thought to himself. 'Surely, one of the others would have gone in my place, unless Kel planned this; I wouldn't put it past her.' he decided. With an effort, he wrenched his thoughts away from self-pity and focused on the task at hand. Almost without realizing it, he had arrived at his destination.
Neal took a deep breath, then doubled over with pain, suddenly assailed by nervous cramps. He managed to stagger away from the door, and panting, crumpled to the floor. He was so engrossed in calming himself, he didn't pay any attention to the footsteps padding closer to him, until a pair of soft-leather boots appeared directly in front of his own feet. Startled, he looked up, then groaned, feeling the cramps grow worse at the sight before him. Neal curled inward slightly, expecting a kick or some other violent reaction from the boy who stood before him. He wasn't sure if he had been seeing correctly, since the cramps which had attacked had the side effect of making his eyes water with suppressed tears, but he was almost sure that it was Joren standing before him. Instead of the expected blow though, a hand was extended towards him. Neal glanced up quickly, narrowing his eyes in a vain attempt to focus.
'Yes, it is Joren, but why is he offering to help me? Unless he's setting me up for a throw, but since I'm already on the floor, he can't really do much to me..' Neal deliberated and then warily accepted the proffered hand. Surprisingly enough, he was pulled to his feet smoothly, and that was it. No sudden jerk, no quick toss, no attempt to trip him, just a smooth pull that raised him from the ground. Neal did notice that Joren hadn't released his hand yet, but as Neal stared at their joined hands, Joren removed his hand from Neal's. Neal flushed, then looked up from his hand, the cramps in his stomach subsiding to a vague queasiness as he stared at Joren.
"Well?" Joren inquired, leaning back against a wall with a diffident manner that Neal couldn't help but envy. The casual arrogance of the pose wasn't even marred by the way he had to keep brushing strands of his white-blond hair away from his crisp blue eyes. Apparently Neal had come while Joren had been brushing his hair, since half of it was still disheveled. Fascinated, Neal scrutinized every inch of Joren, looking for some evidence that the boy who stood before him had been thrown off-balance by Neal's unexpected visit. Apart from the messy hair, Joren was as composed and self-assured as if Neal had not only been expected, but invited as well.
"Like what you see?" Joren chuckled softly and gave Neal an equally appraising look. It took all of Neal's self-control to remind himself that he was here for a reason, and no matter how uncomfortable Joren was making him feel, he had a task to perform. Strengthened by that thought, he gazed back boldly at Joren, who seemed only to be mildly amused by Neal's defiance.
"Not particularly, I believe that a spidren might though. They are known to be indiscriminate about their choice of prey. Unfortunately for you, I have better taste than that." Neal replied lifting his chin to take full advantage of his height. Irritatingly enough, this served only to amuse Joren still further, who stepped closer to Neal, making his cramps return with a vengeance. Neal managed to keep himself from collapsing only by sheer force of willpower.
"Well, fortunately for me, most of the girls in the castle would disagree with you. And as for your tastes…if Kel is an example of something who is to your taste, I can understand why you wouldn't appreciate me." Joren retorted, keeping that calculating look on his face the whole time. By now, Neal was growing uneasy. Joren sounded far too flippant, as if he considered Neal to be no threat.
"Don't you mean someone, not something? And yes, I must admit I was wrong, the girls in the castle would disagree with me," Neal paused to enjoy the shock on Joren's face then continued softly "They would think that a spidren would be more likely to reject you." Neal finished with a smirk. Joren's face darkened, his normally rosy cheeks flushing to a deep red.
"How would you know Neal? The closest you've been to a girl would be Kel, and she doesn't count." Joren snapped, targeting Neal's weak point accurately. Neal clenched his hands into fists, and had to make a conscious effort to relax, reminding himself continuously to be like Stone, as Kel had advised him.
"Well, since I didn't pay for her, I suppose that you wouldn't consider that she counts, since that is the only kind of female companionship you've ever known!" Neal retorted sharply, suddenly losing all vestiges of self-control. He took a deep breath, then was about to continue.
Unfortunately, he never got a chance to make the rest of his speech because Joren chose that moment to press his lips against Neal's, effectively both silencing and stunning him.
Author's Note: *nods emphatically* oh yeah, Neal and Joren make the cutest couple!
