Thanks to all who read, please review! This is my first foray into the world of TP fiction. I read the books a million times when I was younger, and some things are a little hazy! This was written in response to Vida Loca's challenge, and when I noticed she liked Tamora Pierce, this idea came to me freely. Yeah, I realise that Tortall would really have a Valentine's Day, but I decided to honour the occasion anyway.
I apologise to those reading my Harry Potter stories, writer's block has me locked in his closet, which surprisingly looks like an English classroom.
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She would make him hurt when she saw him next. She would force him into the practice courtyard and he would really hurt for this. Kel quietly and (not so) inconspicuously sat in one of the many booths that surrounded the large ballroom. Today was Valentine's Day, and with this day many maiden's swooned over her fellow knights, her year mates attended to many a maiden's every wish, and the ladies would blush and flutter their smooth white arms and murmur quiet words so that only the adoring men could hear. But Keladry was not one of these petite, porcelain women. No, she was a lady knight, she cared for starlings and a block-headed dog, her arms were not a creamy white, but tanned and freckled, covered in small and barely noticeable scars – the legacy of her former griffin and years of sword-fighting. She liked her breeches practical, her shirts loose and uniform. She certainly didn't like this.
She wore Lalasa's latest fashion trend. All dressmakers now attempted to match her former maid's style, and Keladry couldn't help but wonder why. No, she told herself, that was a lie. She knew what she wore was beautiful and ever-so feminine, precisely the reason other's wanted it, and she didn't.
The bodice was form-fitting, the sleeves covered her upper arms and the skirt was full. It was in a dark emerald green with brown trimmings here and there, small sparkling emeralds lined her square-cut, low neckline. It was as understated as Lalasa could go, and Kel appreciated even the smallest of changes she had made. Her hair, which had been left to grow out during her time at New Hope, was pinned to her head with an emerald ornament.
The reason she wore such an expensive (though she had been forced not to pay for it) and effeminate dress? Nealan of Queenscove. The boy was now a man, married off to a beautiful Yamani woman and happily expecting a child. And the week before the ball he had knocked on her door in the palace fit to bursting with nervousness, ranting about his plan for a romantic evening with Yuki. Keladry had smiled and insisted it would be fine, until a horribly worrying look came on his face.
"You must come and prevent me from doing something wrong!" She groaned. She hadn't been planning on going, because Balls meant dresses, and Valentine's Day Balls mean dresses, kisses and candy-covered romance.
"No."
"Kel-"
"No."
"But-"
"No." She glared daggers at him but he seemed unfazed. He wasn't one of her charges at New Hope. He was the boy who had been with her through almost everything, the one who had almost killed her with poetry readings and lectures about fighting. He wasn't going to give up on this.
And he hadn't. He had commissioned the dress without her input, he had made all arrangements and had finally forced her to say yes, because she was too distracted by his nagging that she hadn't been able to joust properly.
Glancing over at the man who had dragged her here she scowled. He hadn't spoken to her after a few polite greetings, as he had whisked Yuki away and had begun to dance with her and woo her all over again, and it seemed Yuki had taken to the thought with much happiness.
"You shouldn't scowl so, Kel, I was about to commend you on how much of a lady you look tonight."
Kel froze. The only person she didn't want to run into looking like this. She felt silly enough, although most had told her she looked pretty. But he had said she looked like a lady, not a pretty one, just a lady. Because she wasn't usually a lady. She was a knight, upfront fighter and "Protector of the Small" (the title had stuck, another reason to scowl).
"Dom, what a surprise, I didn't expect to see you here." She turned and struggled to keep her bored composure. He was wearing a handsome tunic of black, with the King's Own insignia embroidered on his chest. It made him look terribly attractive.
"Yes, well, my lord wanted some company if he was to be forced to come to this event and he picked me and a few of the other lads that volunteered to go. He apparently doesn't seem to mind being here though." He gestured to Raoul who was currently in deep conversation with Commander Buri.
"It seems we've both been abandoned. Wait, you volunteered?" Kel exclaimed, incredulous that someone other than stuffy courtiers and Neal would willingly attend the ball.
Dom made a non-committal sound and a silence fell upon their booth, interrupted only by a page offering to refill their wine cups.
"Would you like to move out to the gardens, away from all this?" Dom's suggestion brought the first true smile she had held all night. It lit up her face and she nodded vigorously.
Kel, being Kel, didn't realise that at this type of function, at this time of year, that the Garden was a popular place for couples to be secluded and view the moon and speak of their feelings in hushed tones. She was just happy to get out of the Ballroom.
They walked in a companionable silence, and before long Kel had finally realised that Dom's hand was on her lower back, leading her through the maze. Her cheeks reddened, she hadn't noticed before now because of the stiffness of the fabric she wore.
She realised her senses were clamouring, noticing every move he made, much like when she studied and focused on every move an opponent made. She noticed his small smile, his flushed complexion and his barely-concealed nervousness. She understood how he felt, her back was rigid as a board and her mouth had curved unconsciously into a demure smile. Demure? Keladry of Mindelan? It was absurd.
Upon seeing a stone bench, Dom led her to it and waited for her to sit, before doing so himself. His arm was still half around her.
Dom made an indiscernible noise and Kel turned her head toward him, and upwards slightly. He was looking right at her, into her eyes and she panicked slightly, realising just how close they were. Yes, of course they were close, she had noticed the arm, but this was close enough to kiss. Her mind stumbled over this thought and her eyes grew wide, her mouth formed a soft "O".
"You really do look beautiful tonight Kel, but I like you in your breeches much better." After this stunning sentence he leaned over, paused, giving her enough time to turn her head if she wanted, before touching his lips lightly to her own.
Kel's body responded even when her mind could barely keep up with this new development. Her arm snaked around his torso, her body turn to bring them closer and her lips, the lips that were now touching his own soft and warm mouth, pushed against his, responding to his advance in earnest.
The kiss turned into kisses, and Kel let out a sigh of contentment, every part of skin that came into contact with his was screaming with happiness.
Finally they parted, Kel's eyes were closed and her mouth curved into a smile, her brain was repeating the last few minutes over, and over in her head.
"Kel?"
She snapped out of her fantasies and smiled up at Dom, who was grinning down at her with much amusement.
"You never did tell me why you volunteered to come tonight." She asked, knowing the answer, the kiss from moments before being her evidence.
"I came because I knew you were coming. I came because I have wanted to kiss you for so long. I came because life is too short, I realised this after you had run off for Scanra and your people, and I came because I knew this would probably be one of the only times I get to see you in a dress."
She smiled once more. She brought her hand, scarred, tanned but wanted, up to his face and traced his jaw-line, until her fingers found his hair and she brought his lips back to hers, all the while thanking Neal for being insufferable.
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