Disclaimer: I do not own what you recognize from Tamora Pierce's Tortall Universe. I am not earning money by posting this either. I just want to have a little fun with characters and places she created.

Note: Sorry to those waiting for another RtDA update. My muse wanted this and won't let me get further with Chapter 12. Originally, I wanted to collaborate with an excellent Protector of the Small series one-shot author, foolofatook001. Instead, I've been challenged. So here we are.

Tune of the Chapter: The Fiechters - Black Wolf's Inn

Chapter Zero: Thoughts

Summer, 461 H.E.

Domitan of Masbolle thought he knew Keladry of Mindelan. He'd known her for nearly a decade, and if that date was indeed 6th day of the Rose Moon then she just turned 19. For four years, she rode with Third Company. And for four years before that, his cousin included such comprehensive details about his training that it was as if he was attending Knighthood Training himself. Yet, as he looked over to where she was while they both ferried kidnapped children across the Vassa, he could not help but be surprised.

Then he stopped himself. Why should he be so astonished about her at all?

She met his concerned gaze and attempted to give his questioning glance a silent, yet positive response. He could tell she was tired. And from that one look, he could surmise that she possibly dreaded some undeserved disciplinary action. Kel was simply unique like that.

As he handed off yet another child to a smuggler, he did his best to assure her from a distance, and wordlessly do so. As he observed the lack of sparkle in her hazel eyes when she gave him a smile in return, he didn't believe that she was allayed of her dark feelings whatsoever.

A cat rubbed itself between his legs, bringing his attention away from the Lady Knight. It mewled at him, almost letting him know he ought to stay focused on their job. He gave the marmalade cat a smile as she allowed him to pick her up and walk on over to the nearest adolescent who was good with cats for transport.

It seemed that conveying more support for the young woman had to wait. Just as he waited years to meet her, roughly ten years ago. Before he truly immersed himself in his task, he spared one last thought to Neal who started their correspondence in earnest. He would never admit it to anyone except Kel, but that act was the beginning of his path towards being there and at that moment.

Chapter One: First Missive, Queenscove to Masbolle

15th day of the Seed Moon, 449 H.E.

Dom,

I am pleased to announce that I have chosen to head off to Tortall Royal University. I begin class on the sixth day of the Rose Moon. Now that Graeme and Cathal are both Knights of the Living Realms of Tortall, I feel that it is time for me to serve the Crown in my own way.

You have always told me, I am a better Healer than I am a swordsman since I started fence training four years ago. I had the fortune of meeting Master Harailt. He has briefly tested my Gift. He said I seem to have what it would take to become a great Healer someday. As such, following Father's footsteps does not seem to be such a travesty. It helped Mother's usual sensibilities, most certainly.

I'd truly like it. Studying diseases. Curing them. Finding out what idiocy humans manage to get themselves into and wanting to live despite their choices would most likely be entertaining. Seriously there are better ways to destroy a liver instead of imbibing a chaldron's worth of ale each day.

Besides, it would be nice to have access to a quiet library. As grand as the library here at the Palace is, I tend to receive much distraction from so much noise from the current pages. Especially whenever I peruse the shelves for a tome so worthy of being absorbed. If there must be noise, then they ought to include philosophical or academic matters. Not nonsense! My ears are ringing with various and pointless disagreements and the clanging of some oafs with some sort of chest harnesses. It's like they do not understand that libraries are meant for silence and reading. Not conversations and duelling with books.

Honestly, I despair of such ill-mannered louts being deemed sufficient to defend our borders. So what if the Lioness is not male! She gets the job done! I digress. Oh, look at me. Despair and digress. What a paired notion. Do you suppose that my wisdom is fitting for my incoming enrollment at the university? Oh, wait why am I asking you? You, who so spurned my invitations to accompany my excellent presence at the Palace.

Which, brings me to an epiphany. Not seeing your ugly face receive a much-deserved fist during a little family get-together at the courts is going to be sorely missed. So is the vision that you would be royally pounded by Roald during knight training. I know, I must have a more befitting disposition towards our future king. But even though we are not outwardly bosom buddies at the moment, he has welcomed me to treat him as I would a brother in private when we crossed paths at the library.

Poor Roald. He has actually admitted that he could not truly befriend any of his fellow pages. Something about upsetting the Traditionalists and Conservatives more than he already does. I am certain he would not have been so candid with me if I was in training with him. In another life, perhaps, we would be the best of friends under stuffy old codgers just like the King and Sir Raoul. But Knight training has produced two mighty fine warriors of the realm from Queenscove. A third Queenscove son may do better to be Tortall's next Royal Healer.

By the by, I must say that I believe that Mithros saved you, dear cousin. To clarify, you were saved from the glory of the Royal University since you were born without magic. Imagine being bested in classes by yours truly every day even if you're barely two years older. After all, by indirect admission, you have always told me that you had better brawn than brains.

I appreciate your instinctive and magnanimous candour. I know you must be complimenting me right this moment for having thought so.

Yet I must confess and state for the record that you are such an awful cousin. After all, I had countlessly issued you invitations to come and visit me over the past few years, and got declined each time I did so! Then I heard you are finally coming to Corus. Even if it is not for Knight training, you are finally planting your sorry butt on a horse to travel here! And what is worse is that you have aimed for a date during the Mead Moon. That is well after I have left for university! Hence, you are awful! Just awful. Truly. I declare it assuredly, fervently, and loudly that my cousin, Domitan of Masbolle is a dreadful cousin.

Whyever would he act like such a lout and avoid me?

Not to worry, I won't hold it against you. Much. As long as you tell me directly what you have planned. So do write to me when you can. Kindly note, that was not a request. Otherwise, I might convince Aunt Aoife to betroth you to either Berthile of Shaila or Batilde of Susha. I hear they come with quite a bit of dowry when they marry.

I await your reply. Your favourite cousin,

Neal