A/n: I don't mention it explicitly, but this is set in the early spring before the war with Scanra is officially over. So…two years or so post Lady Knight. Kel's still in charge of New Hope, the road north has just opened, but because the war is winding down, and has been for some time, a lot of her friends are not stationed in the north. Okay? Okay.
Gifted
by Ace Ryn Knight
Kel didn't have to look up to know it was Neal hovering impatiently in the doorway to her impossibly cramped office. She frowned instead at the letter before her, quill hovering over the parchment, considering.
"What is it now?" she asked when he continued to linger.
His reply was entirely too gleeful. "Mail's here."
This announcement was followed by a heavy thump and a light rattling sound as a sealed wooden box was deposited onto the lone empty corner of her desk. She blinked at it for a moment before cursing vehemently.
Neal laughed, "And that's just the small one, I saw at least two more in the cart with your name on them."
Kel gave him a level stare, "Snooping again, were we?"
"Lady Knight," he gasped, pressing a hand to his heart "I'm hurt, nay, wounded. Do you really, think so little of me?"
"Shall I answer that truthfully or would you like me to lie to you?"
Neal made a strangled sound and staggered to her side, "Ah, me! 'Tis a mortal wound! The light grows dim! Will you not console a dying man, good knight?"
"No, I don't think I w- hey! Get off. I have work to do. Neal!" Kel protested, grunting as the older knight slipped his arms about her shoulders in a firm, insistent hug. She tried to shrug him off for a moment before sighing in defeat.
"If I open the blasted boxes will you leave me to do my work in peace?"
"Mmmhmmm."
"I need a yes or a no, Neal."
"Fine."
"Neal."
"Yes, okay."
"Promise?"
"Sure."
"Neal."
With Neal trailing in her wake, Kel approached the line of carts bearing New Hope's latest supplies. Merric was already there, overseeing their distribution. Seeing their approach he shook his head.
"You're worse than the little ones at Midwinter, I swear." he said, narrowing his gaze at the green-eyed knight.
Neal paid him no mind, humming faintly as he moved to inspect the last wagon in the line.
"I'm sorry about him, Kel. I told him not to fetch you, told him to get his own supplies in order first, but you know how he is. Took my eyes off him for a second, and he was gone."
Kel sighed, "Don't worry about it, Merric. I ought to know by now to pick a better hiding spot on mail days."
"Oh? Where were you hiding?"
"My office. I thought it might just be ridiculous enough to work. Clearly it didn't."
"Clearly."
Neal, deciding he'd done enough waiting, came to stand before the pair of them, hands propped irately upon his hips.
Kel sighed. Meeting his expectant green eyes she said, "If you're so interested in the packages I get in the mail, then you're the one who gets to cart them all to my rooms. I'm having no more of this foolishness today."
It was a harried-looking Neal who met her and Merric as they were leaving the mess hall two hours later.
"You think you're funny," the healer accused, shoving at the red-haired knight's shoulder, "telling everyone not to help me move those gods' cursed boxes. I had to do it all by myself."
Merric chuckled, "Heavy, were they?"
"You're an awful person and I hate you."
The lady knight laughed as Merric looped an arm around their friend's shoulder and squeezed. She laughed harder as Neal yelped in protest.
"I don't suppose you thought to bring something to open these with," Kel remarked from her spot on the floor. She sat cross-legged between two long rectangular wooden crates bearing her name in heavy, black letters.
Neal merely raised a slim iron rod in one hand in answer. He waved it jauntily at her and set about prying loose the lid of the crate nearest to him. At the desk, Merric sat sorting through a tall stack of envelopes. "One from Faleron for Neal," he announced, flicking an envelope in his direction. He sent the next one to land on the Lady Knight's bed. "One for Kel. And one for me." He set the third on the desk at his elbow.
"Owen for Kel. For Neal. Me." Merric continued sorting aloud, "Lord Raoul for Kel. Lord Wyldon for Kel. Lady Alanna for Neal. Roald for Kel. Roald for me. Yuki for Neal."
Neal yelped and dropped his pry bar as the last letter for him, flung with more force than the last, smacked into the back of his head. "Would you stop that?" He growled, half turning to face the red-head.
"Fine." Merric pulled four packets from the stack of correspondence and tossed the remainder of the letters onto the bed. "The rest are for Kel anyway."
Kel rose to her knees, stretching to gather her set of letters. Settling back down, she eyed the hefty pile. Foremost of among them was a thick envelope. Flipping it over she saw it was from Domitan of Masbolle. Discreetly she set that aside, and moved on to the next- one from Seaver of Tasride. She opened it as Merric set to work opening the second crate, as Neal had abandoned his task to sigh dreamily over his letter from Yuki.
Seaver's letter wasn't long, and she read it quickly. She finished three more before Merric announced he was done.
"Finally!"
"You are an awful snoop." The red-head said as Neal, with a nod from Kel, began to sort through the contents of the crates.
"Oh look, Lalasa sends her regards," Neal said, lifting out a set of dusty blue tunics.
"I think this is from Lord Raoul." Merric remarked, elbow-deep in the second box. He lifted out a wide woven blanket in shades of cream and blue that looked to be of Bazhir design.
Kel shook her head, "Esmond. He was in the desert last fall. Said he couldn't resist."
Between the two crates they found a myriad of goods. Among them there was a box of Yamani teas from her mother and a heavy tome on the history of lady warriors from her father. There was an illustrated book of children's stories, likely chosen for the fierce, colorful griffin upon the cover, from her brother Avinar in the City of the Gods. Faleron, from his new post along the Tyran border had sent a child's plush toy horse that looked remarkably like Peachblossom. Seaver sent a tooled leather dagger sheath, dyed grey and styled with a stately owl. It came with a belt that matched, the scrollwork appearing much like feathers.
Along with the tunics, Lalasa had sent a pair of simple, soft cotton dresses in green and blue with even softer white chemises to layer beneath. There were shirts and breeches and a set of glossy black knee-high boots. Her former maid had even included a pair of long cloaks; one of heavy dark blue wool, its hood lined with fur, the other a medium cotton in a rich forest green. Owen, oddly enough, sent a kerchief embroidered with a pair of short, bow-legged hounds. From the unevenness of some of the stitches, she surmised his young lady of Cavall had passed on her knowledge of the art to him during his convalescence.
In the smallest box, Kel found an assortment of new waving cats for her collection. Unlike her previous figures, which had come with her from the Yamani Isles when she was ten, these were obviously made in Tortall. For one thing, the proportions were somewhat less rounded, and they were more defined than those commonly found in the islands. They were also painted with excruciating detail. Turning one over in her hands, she laughed.
"Look Neal, you're a cat!" The tiny figure had green eyes, and a brown patch upon its head. Queenscove's crest was painted along its back. More green paint lingered at its paws, likely a representation of his Gift. Shifting through the box she found more of her favorite people turned cat. All the key players of her pagehood study group were there, along with herself and a handful of others. Lady Alanna was easy to spot with her red hair and famed purple eyes, her cat was smaller than the rest, maybe half as big, whereas Lord Raoul's figure was larger than the norm. Roald, it appeared, had even included himself in his gift, and his cat had a slim silver crown about its head.
Neal, his curiosity sated at last, chuckled as he observed first the line of porcelain figures and then the mess of their unpacking. "Who needs the world, when the world will come to you?"
Kel sighed, feeling warm. She didn't need it. She didn't need it at all.
A/N: Written for the prompt "Travel" on my autumn bingo card. I started with the idea of Kel not needing to travel, and the fact that she was okay with that because her friends do enough of that for her. Neal's last line was my original premise. Something…mutated along the way I'm sure. But I'm done. I'm just…I'm just done. I quit. I need to work on something else.