A/N: No song for this chapter because I didn't think it would be appropriate. Thank you all for your reviews, and I have to apologise for this chapter in advance - I wrote most of it whilst watching the news for updates.

Incidentally, I have no idea why a body just appeared in Neal's room - it was a completely random thing. Complaints to my muse!

Lady of the Lilacs: *hugs* I'm glad it helped a little bit, and I hope you're okay.

Stacey: Hehehe, yes I saw that movie - and loved it, I might add. Have you seen Queen of the Damned? Two words: Leather trousers.

Lady Sandrilene: It started off having nothing to do with the story at all, then it provided me with a perfect hurt/comfort scenario. What could be more appropriate? *snickers*

Keaira: Moodswings, yes. There's an explanation for that - Kel had some sort of inner resolve after her talk with Ermelian, it's like a closure. She's not completely over him, but it did help. Hey. Maybe she's trying to take her mind off things *grins* with a little help from everyone's favourite green-eyed healer!

Dedication: To the casualties of a futile war, and the ones they left behind.

Defenceless

Grief. Sorrow. Confusion. Anger. A maelstrom of emotions swirled through Kel's mind as she sat rigidly on the cushioned chair opposite Lord Wyldon. It was unheard of for a mere squire to be seated in the King's council chamber, but here were two - Neal's hand exerting an almost unbearable pressure on her own as he waited by Kel's side.

Murder in the palace. Already rumours would be circulating, each one more improbable than the last, and yet as possible as any truth. What was the truth? There was no discernable clue to either the identity or the motivation of the killer. For revenge? It had certainly seemed that way earlier, as Kel knelt on the icy stone floor of Neal's chambers, her arms around his shaking body, holding him in wordless horror. It could destroy Neal; it might destroy them both.

"You are dismissed." the words punctured Kel's inner silence like needles, and she felt Neal's grip tighten still more as he pulled her up after him. Neal either did not notice Lord Wyldon's disapproving gaze, or he didn't care. Inwardly cringing in pain, Kel felt the bones in her hand grind together under the force.

"Neal," she whispered as they left the room, "you're hurting me," he looked blankly at her for a moment, before his eyes fell to their enjoined hands. Kel repressed a shiver; their gazes had met for seconds, but it was enough to see eternities of despair in bloodshot depths.

"I know." his voice was cold and empty. Like death…Kel thought, thankful for the easing of his hold. Neal refused to let her go entirely however, and when he stopped to stare unseeing out of the window, Kel was forced to stay beside him.

Fine strands of early moonshine bound the two in their matched sorrow, illuminating their corrupted home. The palace felt…contaminated to her now. Finally, noticing that Neal was lingering overlong in the deserted hallway, Kel tugged him away, even though she had no eventual destination in mind.

His own room was being emptied by terrified and superstitious servants. It was under the order of Duke Baird, who guessed - correctly - that his son would not return to that scene, with the echoes of memory ringing in his mind.

"Where will you go?" she asked almost fearfully, avoiding his eyes as she unlocked the door of her room.

"Father offered me a bed in the hospital wing until my new chambers are finished," he said it with reluctance and Kel couldn't blame him. The hospital wing was somewhere she had spent a lot of time as a page, being patched up by Duke Baird after another disastrous fight with Joren and his friends. Even these short visits made her feel acutely uncomfortable - the starched white nature of the place was designed to put patients at ease, but it did not have the desired effect. Kel didn't like to think of her best friend spending even one night in that blank impersonality. "You can stay here if you wish - I'll have a cot made up in the dressing room…" she knew the scandal it would cause and she didn't care. It would only be a stain on her name, not his, and if she was completely honest with herself, Kel would admit that she didn't want to be alone.

He hardly needed to think about it. "Thank you," Neal whispered, following her through the door.

Whilst Neal sat on the floor, leaning back against her bed, Kel disappeared into the dressing room where Lalasa was already making up a pallet for Neal. It never ceased to amaze Kel quite how perceptive her former maid was. "Milady, are you well?" she asked quietly, tucking under the corners of a sheet with swift, efficient grace.

"I'm fine," Lalasa looked sceptical until Kel darted her eyes towards the flimsy partition that separated them from the main room. The seamstress nodded sympathetically, and clasped Kel's hand gently. "I have work yet to do for the Queen and her ladies, so I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, milady."

"Goodnight, Lalasa," Kel smiled weakly, before returning to the adjoined chamber to listen. That was her acquired art, to watch and listen and to be there for others when they needed a confidant. She had never appreciated it as much at she did now.

***************

"They'll be starting soon," Kel looked at her friend curiously as she handed him a cup of hot green tea, made from her precious store of the leaf. Taking her seat above him on the bed, she asked cautiously "Starting what?"

"Funeral preparations."

If words could echo in that room, they did in that moment. Funeral preparations? Already? But of course, palace life went on at times like this. Bile rose in Kel's throat. How could they? Someone had died. There should be a period of mourning at the very least!

"I shan't go," she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"What?" she demanded, aghast, "Why not?"

Neal looked up at her from his lower position, and the intense rage in his eyes made her shrink back. Kel had never seen him like this. "They didn't know her. None of them. Oh, they might've known 'Lady Yukimi noh Diaomoru' but they never knew Yuki."

It shouldn't have made sense, but it did. Their fiery, fun-loving Yamani friend had shown that side of her personality to very few people for fear of rebuke. Underneath years of constraining Yamani etiquette teaching lay a vivid character that she could only let reign among close friends.

"Maybe not, but they mourn the person they thought they knew. Will you grudge them that?" against her naturally compassionate nature, Kel felt that Neal was being extremely selfish. He wasn't the only one that was hurting. "They were all her friends. Yuki didn't have enemies."

"No?" she didn't like the tone he now took with her, "Then who did this?" as soon as the words left his mouth, Kel could tell that he came to a terrible realisation that she herself had been avoiding all afternoon. The colour drained from Neal's cheeks, and the cup he was holding smashed on the icy stone floor; both of them stared at the shards of bone-white china until Neal took a great shuddering breath.

"Me. It was all my fault. We weren't even involved any more, but someone knew that this would still hurt and they killed her. She died because of me!" he yelled, voice having risen to a hysterical crescendo.

"No! Don't say that," Kel was scared for him, and did the only thing that she could think of, cupping Neal's face in her hands and forcing him to meet her gaze. "This isn't anyone's fault but the murderer's, and don't you dare think otherwise!"

He made an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat before reaching up to wrap his arms around her waist, and buried his face against the curve of her hip. Kel, at a slight loss, smoothed down his tumbled chestnut hair, trying to ignore the heartbreaking sensation of hot tears soaking through her shirt.

****************

Winter. Kel had always disliked winter - it meant confinement to the palace and days of service where things went wrong more often than right. And the cold, of course. She was not quite to the level of Sir Lady Alanna's legendary hatred of cold weather, but on nights like this, she might as well have been.

The hearth fire had died down hours ago, until now when only the glowing embers were left. If she had the energy or inclination, she would rise and rebuild it, but unfortunately, she did not. Instead, Kel wriggled further into her blankets and pulled them more tightly around her.

A faint ironic smile graced her features for a moment. It wasn't the cold that kept her awake through the night, and it was no use trying to delude herself as she lay in the dark room, gazing at the shadows cast on her walls. The sound of pacing from her dressing room indicated that Kel was not the only one dwelling on the events of that day and the conclusion of sorts that had been reached. Tears and hysteria wouldn't help; hindsight wouldn't bring Yuki back.

"Neal?"

His tousled head appeared around the partition, emerald green eyes peering at her owlishly through the darkness. "You as well?"

Kel gave him a half smile and beckoned him to her. However, the instant he stepped around the screen, Kel felt herself blushing scarlet. Despite the freezing temperature, Neal was only clad in a pair of loose breeches that rode low on his slender hips, and she could see taut muscles that rippled under the ivory skin of his bare torso.

As he perched on the side of her bed, Neal surveyed her in weak amusement. "Cold?"

"Freezing, aren't you?" she replied, voice slightly muffled from the blanket that she had pulled to her chin. Neal leant down so far that their foreheads were nearly touching. "Yes, but us warrior stoics can't complain," it was black humour, and she was aware of the mocking edge to his comment, but Kel couldn't trust her voice to reply - she was sure her breathlessness would betray her.

Raising a corner of her blanket nest, Neal asked "May I?" No! Said her cautious mind that knew this was wrong. Say no! But her traitorous body disobeyed, and Kel found herself nodding ascent.

Much better. No matter how immoral it may appear, Kel was grateful for her friend's reflected warmth as his body stretched out in a perfect mirror of her own.

"What are you thinking about?" she enquired after a period of quiet introspection, during which she came to the conclusion that the friendship between her and Neal had already progressed too far if this is where they had ended up. The physical closeness had not been there before her return to court, and Kel wasn't really sure that she liked it. When she had first received Cleon's letter, the day after the disastrous village raid, she had sworn that Keladry of Mindelan would never get involved in another doomed relationship, and starting something with Neal…they were so different. Not to mention the fact that he was clearly not over Yuki, which made the current tragedy all the more poignant.

"I'm thinking that Yuki is probably laughing at us right now," he murmured huskily in Kel's ear, so tantalisingly close and yet not touching at all.

"Why do you say that?" she shied away from him slightly, angry at her heartbeat for speeding up and reminding her of the greatest weakness in her life.

"All this crying and grieving over her. She always said that the Easterners were too sensitive for their own good." Kel permitted herself a small smile. Yes, that sounded exactly like something the perpetually cheerful Yuki would have said.

As if noticing her long silence, Neal shifted onto his side so Kel was forced to look up at him. "Kel? Can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is. You might not get an answer," she replied edgily, trying to find a clue in Neal's shadowed eyes.

"Did you love Cleon?" Kel stiffened, her insides turning cold. Why does he want to know? Why now? Has Cleon said something? She flinched when he laid a hand on her bare arm, and horrified at the pained expression on Neal's face, stuttered an apology.

"No, I'm sorry, I had no right to ask. Just forget I said anything." the atmosphere had turned decidedly frosty, and Neal flipped back the covers to leave her bed without even sparing a glance for Kel.

"Neal," she lunged forward to grasp his wrist in a vice-like hold. Kel might not know his motives for asking such a personal question, but he did have a right to know. "No secrets."

"I - I don't know. I thought I did once, but…Ermelian…I couldn't ask him to sacrifice his people…" shrugging helplessly, Kel pulled her hand away and hugged the blanket closer to her body. Neal's intent stare was making her skin prickle, but she forced herself to meet his gaze for the sake of pride. He let out his breath in a long sigh.

"You're amazing," dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, he stood up, "Night, Kel."

She watched him vanish into the dressing room in a sort of dreamlike incredulity, until she finally came to her senses enough to whisper "Goodnight…"

Do your worst, my friends.