Author's Note: Well, today is my birthday, and as a present to everyone I decided to post the final chapter :) Thanks to all readers and reviewers for making this story so fun to write! This chapter was actually a lot shorter, but I was inspired to add more Kel/Dom fluff after some of the review comments. Thanks all and enjoy!

The End, The Beginning

Commander and captain had finished their official business and were now engaged in exchanging stories and gossip. Dom asked about their friends in the palace, especially on Mia's decision to try for knighthood, while Kel wanted updates on the soldiers she knew in Third Company. It was hard not to be partial as a commander considering how she had known a number of the men under him all the way back in her squire years. And from this launching point, Kel was able to turn the conversation to what was really tugging on her mind. "That journal of the woman that you sent me awhile back…" she began, "Where is she? The writer, I mean."

Dom's merry face grew serious, and he spoke his next quietly. "She died, Kel, back in one of the hurrock skirmishes a few months ago. One of my sergeants was something of a friend to her and gave me the journal after it happened. I probably should have told you in the note… I wasn't thinking."

Kel leaned back in her chair and gazed into the battle tapestry across the room. This was the answer she had suspected and expected considering the abrupt end to the story. "No it's fine…" she trailed off. "Could I speak with this sergeant?" she asked after a moment, already guessing which one it was.

"Of course," Dom replied quickly, feeling guilty for breaking the news this way. He strode over to the door and told a soldier in the corridor outside to go fetch a 'Sergeant Smythson'.

Kel and Dom fell silent as they waited, sipping the Yamani tea she had made. Orri Smythson entered after a few minutes, saluting both his commanding officers. Dom made his excuses and left them to talk.

Kel stood and looked Orri over, piecing together the physical man she saw before her with the idea of him she had read. He was in his early twenties, a professional soldier with a lean, muscular build. But there was a quietness to him that was different from most of the other men in the Own. "Please, Sergeant, have a seat. Tea?" she offered.

He sat in Dom's vacated chair. "No thank you, sir. May I ask what this is about?" Kel had supposed that he would not know about Dom forwarding the journal to her.

"Please, call me Kel." The Lady Knight retook her seat and picked up the small leather-bound book from the edge of her desk. Orri recognized it immediately.

"Ah, I gave that to Captain Dom after… Well, I was her recruiter, so I knew her the longest. She wasn't ever much to look at, but she was determined…" he said quietly, his eyes settled on the journal rather than meeting Kel's gaze.

She paused a moment to study the sergeant's face. "Yes, I read it. That sounds like her. I was wondering what you could add; it ends with the celebration of her victory over the hurrock."

Orri looked down, dirty blond hair half-hiding his face. He must have known that she wrote about the kiss and was embarrassed. Or maybe it was still just hard for him to remember the day she died.

He had to clear his throat before speaking. "In her third skirmish, the mate of the hurrock she killed got her. I saw it happen. It was quick, painless, like how she killed her hurrock." Suddenly though he looked up at his commander and jumped to the woman's defense, protecting her memory as a warrior. "She was a good fighter though—saved the necks of a bunch of my men and women on the field with her bow."

Kel gave a sympathetic smile; she had lost many friends along the way and knew his pain. She replied simply, "Things go wrong and we lose someone we love to rotten luck. But thank you for letting me know her story."

He looked past the Lady Knight, as though he could see something or someone else behind her. "She always did right by me. The least I can do is return the favor." Orri stood abruptly to leave.

But Kel needed to ask him one last thing. "Sergeant Smythson, what was her name? I forgot to ask Dom earlier."

With his head turned, Kel could see the leather cord around his neck with a glint of silver rising above his shirt collar—the hurrock claw necklace. "Kella Sesen," he said. "She wouldn't let us call her 'Kel' though—said she wasn't fit for it."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

He nodded and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Kel leaned back and looked into the battle tapestry once more as she mulled over her thoughts.

Kella Sesen. The name was forever burned into her mind along with the many others who had been under her command or protection and had died. She was yet another woman that Kel had led to an early death.

But Kella was also a woman who Kel had set free. She had been free to choose her own fate, free to choose to fight, and free to choose to die for others. Now she was free from this world that had been hard on her but had never managed to break her, no matter what the circumstances. Kel wished she could have really known Kella. She admired the woman's strength.

Keladry of Mindelan, Lady Knight Commander of the King's Own, had changed a few things in the world. It had never been easy, from her days as the only openly female Tortallan page in hundreds of years to her current post of running the King's Own, but she had brought all the women of Tortall, noble and common, the freedom to choose to fight for what they believed in. And she would continue to do so as long as there was a breath in her body because what she did was not just about her anymore.

It was for Kella Sesen and anyone else who bothered to show up.


Kel ate dinner in the mess with Neal, Yuki, and Dom that night before they retired to the married couples' family suite for tea and more conversation. It felt like a family reunion, which it was in some ways; Kel was the only technically non-related member of the party. But that did not really matter. They were all old friends, happy to be together again in good health and good spirits.

Nearing the end of the evening, Neal left to check on his younger two children sleeping in the next room, and Yuki insisted on clearing the tea set herself, leaving Kel and Dom alone. The Yamani woman had brought many of her native customs into the décor of the rooms, including a low tea table with cushions to sit on rather than chairs. The two officers of the Own were lounging across from each other.

The Lady Knight had decided to wear a kimono that night. She did not really know why, but it just felt right to look nice this evening. Kel had chosen a pine green one that her mother had sent her from the Yamani islands for her last birthday. She had to shift her legs to the side because her knees were not used to all the proper kneeling necessary when wearing kimonos.

Dom had shown up in comfortable plain tan breeches and a loose white shirt; he was off-duty, of course, and therefore not required to wear the blue-and-silver uniform that set off his eyes so nicely. Not that Kel was thinking about his eyes or anything.

He broke the silence with a question. "Did you learn what you wanted from Smythson?"

"Yes," she answered, her hazel eyes meeting blue ones. "He finished the story for me. I wish I had bothered to meet Kella before. I checked the rolls; she was the first woman to sign up for the Own."

"I remember meeting her," Dom replied, leaning forward. "She was a slip of a girl wearing a muddy dress. She had very intense dark eyes, like she was daring anyone to send her packing. I figured that once we got some food in her and muscle on her she'd be as good as anyone. She never caused a single complaint either, mostly stuck to herself, and that's all a captain can ask for, really. And her shot at that hurrock was incredible—I bet she could've won tournaments with that bow if she hadn't been killed."

Kel nodded. She was glad that Kella had been able to work on her talent and prove herself just as worthwhile as anyone. That was what she said she had wanted: to have somewhere to go to be useful. But she did not have a chance to pursue other things, like Orri.

"Dom, I think I'll go out with you… I mean all of Third Company next week to relieve First on the coast," she announced. "The rebuilding is going to take longer than we thought, and I've been wasting my time doing too much desk work lately."

He smiled. "You're always welcome to supervise, Mother, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to pick up a single hammer. I don't want to be responsible for you losing fingers."

"Who's losing fingers?" Neal asked as he walked back into the room.

"No one," Dom told him as he winked at Kel. "I think I can protect the Protector of the Small from herself."

Kel did not seem to mind that thought.


'Kella' means 'warrior' in Celtic/Gaelic, and 'Sesen' means 'to wish for more' from African origins.