Due to overwhelming
requests, I have decided to write something other then a one-shot. I
have no idea how long this will be, but there will be at least 2 more
chapters. Enjoy! Title is from the Robert Frost poem "Mending the Wall"
Also with regards to my story "Fastion's Final Duty", no, I won't be telling what happened to Kari. I like the ambiguous nature of it, and besides, that story's not really about her.
As the last vestiges of light spilled over the courtyard, Karigan wearily dragged herself towards the castle. Every muscle ached, and had anyone asked, she would have sworn to them that Drent came from hell itself. She'd had no illusions that swordmaster training would be easy, but honestly if it got any harder she thought she might implode.
The rider's wing was quiet as she entered it. Everyone must be at dinner. She thought. It was just as well, she was too tired to talk. With a grateful sigh she let herself into her room and collapsed on the bed fully clothed. Her bed was soft and inviting, but Karigan's mind refused to slow down. Of its own accord it drifted the direction of dangerous impossibilities. She tried to steer it away from those thoughts, but her mind kept latching on to random moments, and eventually she stopped fighting it.
In that moment on the stairs, as she curtsied to the king, she realized that she'd never done it before. In the year's hat she'd lived at the castle, she'd never had an occasion to curtsy to her monarch. Every time she'd greeted him it had always been with a bow, or the clan greeting. And with this realization came another. If she'd never curtsied, that also meant that Zachary had never seen her in a dress. A real dress, not the skirts and blouses she used for clan business, but a real, full corset, make all the courtiers jealous, honest to Aeryc, dress. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she remembered how low her neckline plunged, and from the color of Zachary's own cheeks, he'd obviously been looking.
At that moment Estora rescued her from her own embarrassment. As much as she wanted to, Karigan couldn't bring herself to hate Estora. She was kind, clever, and beautiful. She was also brave, if in a different way then herself. They moved in different circles, lived in different worlds. And yet, somehow they managed to become friends, all the while secretly envious of the other.
Karigan really tried to hate her, she really did. She focused her mind on how Estora was betrothed to the man she loved. On how she was not compelled by a magical calling into a profession she did not choose. On all of the little things that could possibly annoy her; Estora's perfect hair, her unerring politeness, the impractical length of her skirts. But try as she might, she just couldn't summon the will to hate her. Especially after her abduction. She had showed such courage and tenacity in the face of a danger that she had not been prepared for. Karigan had to admit, if only to herself, that she was proud of her friend.
With a growl of frustration at her restless mind, Karigan heaved herself out of bed. Maybe after a bath her mind would finally put to rest thoughts of Zachary and Estora. At least for the night.
