This is a fan made story. I don't own the rights to the Protector of the Small series, any of its characters belong to Tamora Pierce… Much to my disappointment. This goes sort of AU about midway from the book Page. Fair warning. Constructive criticism is welcome but if you don't like it simply because you don't like the line of thinking, please don't attack me for it. This is mostly centered on Joren. This is also a slow build Kel/Joren.
Winter 456/457 continued
When he finished escorting Lalasa back to her shop, Joren decided that he should let Kel know that the young woman was safely home. He knocked on her door, the room attached to her knight-master's. He guessed that they were both in there as he heard talking within. His knock had gotten a call to come in. When he entered, it was to find Kel and Raoul stitching up a comforter, much to his bemusement.
"I just came by to tell you that I saw Lalasa back to her shop. I figured we wouldn't want any retaliation from Vinson if it could be avoided. What happened here?" Joren asked as he looked at feathers, both copper and white drifted about her floor.
"Just some chaos with the little terror over there. Thank you for making sure Lalasa was alright," Kel gave Joren a smile that was one of the ones that always made him melt a little. She then turned back to Lord Raoul. "What was it like? You, Lady Alanna, the king. It's hard to see you as pages or squires."
"Oh, this is what you're talking about? I need to hear this," Joren stated, sitting on the edge of Kel's bed to listen.
Raoul grinned at them both, "Like puppies in a basket. All paws and tails." He began, telling the two stories of his past. He finished by telling a story about a fellow page who had beaten the page called Alan, until the day that the disguised Alanna had beaten him in turn. The story made Joren more than a little uncomfortable, easily seeing the similarities in his past to those of the bully from the story.
"The only smart thing Ralon ever did was leave after that. He'd never have passed his Ordeal. I'm afraid Squire Vinson won't, either," Raoul finished. "Joren, let me just say that if you hadn't changed from your path, you likely wouldn't have either."
"Sir?" Kel looked confused while Joren realized that Lord Raoul and Sir Paxton were of a similar mind on the matter. He had to fight to conceal his feelings about knowing how right Lord Raoul was on that matter. His surprise grew with what Raoul said next.
Raoul pointed to the longest tear, the only one left, "Race you to the middle of that. You need a certain amount of, oh, flexibility, to face the Chamber of the Ordeal. You have to know when to bend. If I were training master, I wouldn't have let Vinson get this far."
While Kel looked at Raoul in surprise, Raoul used it to his advantage on getting a head start on her for the final tear. As she finally started, she questioned him, "But if you pass the exams and do the work, and don't do anything really bad, the training master can't stop you from being a squire and taking the Ordeal."
"Of course, he can," Raoul responded, amused before glancing at Joren. "There are ways to discourage someone who is unfit. And often you're doing them a favor. The Chamber is… Hard. It's not that it's merciless. To have mercy or lack it, you need humanity. The Chamber hasn't got it. It would be like, oh, hating the griffin because he's a thankless like bit of winged vermin. Yes, you. Don't let it go to your head, either of you. Kel, the griffin can't change what he is, and the Chamber is unchangeable. Squires have broken themselves trying to defeat it." Joren was truly uncomfortable with Raoul's dialogue by the time he finished and missed his teasing about being able to sew so quickly.
Kel bantered back at him before Raoul turned serious once again, "Think about the king. If you're wary, he won't surprise you too often of too unpleasantly."
Kel finished her repairs as she turned to Joren, "Well, no matter what my Lord says, some people can change. You were just like Vinson once and look at you now. You're really trying hard to learn to do what's right."
"I'm not that much like Vinson. I was stuck in my ways, sure, but I wasn't completely beyond saving. Otherwise, Sir Paxton wouldn't have put this much effort into teaching me to be a better person," Joren offered weakly, Lord Raoul's commentary on the Chamber had him terrified again.
"I suppose you just needed the right guidance to bring it out. Joren, are you alright? You're really pale and shaking," Kel turned concerned as she finished fixing her comforter and she reached over to check his forehead.
Joren jerked away, startled by her sudden proximity, "Yeah, I'm fine, just coming to terms that I had once been friends with the likes of Vinson. I'll just leave you be." With this he swiftly left Kel's room and hurried back to his own.
Once he was in his room he paced for a while until he finally calmed down by reminding himself repeatedly that he wasn't the same person he had been when he was friends with Vinson and that he could survive the Ordeal if he tried hard enough to learn the Code of Chivalry and upholding the law.
With the trial over, next came Midwinter. Joren counted himself unfortunate that he wasn't serving at the same party as Kel for this night but pushed aside the reluctance to do his duties. He was fortunate when the next night he did serve the same party as her but there was unfortunately little interaction. The day after the longest night, Neal came pounding on Joren's door which caused him a bit of confusion.
When Neal entered and shut his door Neal immediately took a seat in one of the empty chairs, "So, for the second year in a row, Kel got a present from not only her mystery benefactor but also a secret admirer. See the thing is, while she is curious about this mystery benefactor, she is completely baffled by the secret admirer. Now, Cleon is the only one who ever gives her flowery complements, at least openly and the rest of our friends treat her with respect, but they don't really view her as feminine. The thing is though that Cleon isn't the type to give subtle gifts, he is a little more… straight forward than that, though he does clearly see Kel as a lady. The rest simply would have gotten her something that wouldn't have even hinted at romantic. All except for you, that is."
As Neal spoke, Joren had gotten paler and taken to looking out the window rather than looking Neal in the eye, "I don't know what you are talking about." He attempted feebly.
"Oh, I think you do. See, you're a planner and any one with half a brain for observation can see that you melt whenever Kel smiles at you, though to be fair, most of our friends aren't very observant. It makes sense that you are her secret admirer because you have both the funds and the motive. The question is why you aren't being more open about it?" Neal finished, noting that Joren was stiff as a board now.
"Why would I be? As it stands, she doesn't look at me like that. I'm just a friend and with our history it is hard to believe she would just accept my feelings at face value. Besides, I don't want her to think that I want her to give up the idea of her knighthood for me or think I would pressure her into something like that. My father is extremely conservative as well and his health is failing as it is, learning that I was interested in the first girl openly aiming for her knighthood would probably kill him. It is better this way. At least for now," Joren finished and finally looked at Neal who looked at him in surprise.
"So, you have really thought about this? What about Cleon?" Neal asked, knowing that Cleon had feelings for Kel as well. "He likes her as well and could easily swoop in and steal her while you're being all noble about your feelings."
"Cleon is betrothed to a young lady heiress and it is one he can't get out of. He knows he can't get out of it. The dowry of the girl is needed to revitalize his family's fief. He can't break the contract without potentially breaking his fief," Joren stated, choosing not to mention his conversation with Cleon. That was something that would stay between the two of them.
"And if someone else comes along. Someone who is free to marry Kel and sees her worth. Someone like, say, my cousin, Domitan of Masbolle. He is fully capable of marrying her if he leaves the Own and he is around her frequently enough that she could possibly grow on him. Actually, as the rest of our fellow squires mature, they could notice just as easily the clear gem that Kel is," Neal pointed out.
"As could you. Is this what this is really about? You're interested now and trying to feel out the rivals?" Joren asked, brisling. He knew that if Neal put forth an effort, he might succeed at winning Kel over.
"No. Kel is like a sister to me. This is about me trying to ensure the girl I see as a sister isn't hurt by the thoughtless whims of a reformed bully," Neal raised his eyebrow at Joren stiffening again. "I don't like people playing games with her. That's what this is about."
"I'm not playing games. Weaponized accessories aren't exactly cheap, and I am sending her the very best. That should be a sign of how serious I am. At the same time, I want her to be happy. That's why I'm waiting. I don't want her to feel pressured. If she is interested in me, I will gladly jump at the chance. However, for now, I'm bidding my time. For all the potential of another suitor coming along, and believe me, I am not blind to the possibility of one, I am hoping that her ambition would hold any other suitor at bay as well," Joren paced now. "If it doesn't, well, not every courtship ends in marriage and I can hope that well placed gifts could give me an edge in proving my dedication."
Neal burst into laughter at the serious tone that Joren finished with, "Alright, I get it. You are smitten and not playing with her. Good, I can feel less guilty about not telling her who it is sending them then."
Just after Midwinter, Kel left again with the Third Company, almost to Joren's relief. Neal was less likely to reveal his behavior if Kel wasn't around to be told anything. Just two days after that, Joren and his uncle received news from his mother that Lord Burchard was in his last days. After some minor consultation between Sir Lionel and Sir Paxton, Joren was ordered to pack his bags, they would be heading for Stone Mountain immediately.
Unfortunately, the Fief of Stone Mountain truly lived up to its name. The Fief got its wealth from opal and silver mines. Each lucrative on their own. Together, they had massed a great fortune for the family. This, however, was a product of living in the eastern mountains near the river Drell, almost at the junction of Galla and Tusaine. Stone Mountain was a fief made up of a literal, very large mountain. As such, traveling to Joren's home wasn't the simplest of feats, even in the summer. In winter, even a slow pace was grueling and uncomfortable. The group stopped at nearly every village as that was as far as they got in a day. It took them a solid two weeks to finally reach Stone Mountain. Lady Verene promptly informed them on their arrival that the healer felt Burchard had only days left to live.
Joren barely got his things brought to his room before his mother reappeared and informed him that his father wished to speak with him immediately. Joren nodded and finished shedding his soaked through outerwear and ordered his valet to have a scalding hot bath drawn and ready for him upon his return to his rooms.
"To be honest, your father can hardly form a coherent sentence. It was just your bad luck that when I went to check on him, he was awake and lucid," Lady Verene stated as she led her son through the cold halls of the ancient castle. "We have been keeping his rooms very warm though. Anything other than a roaring fire and anytime he is awake, Burchard is convinced we are trying to freeze him to death. I don't think he is aware that the cold is his failing body and not the room though."
Lady Verene had a notoriously bad relationship with her husband. She was just as stubborn and determined as Burchard was, which is why the man kept his wife a virtual prisoner in Stone Mountain. The only time she was allowed to leave was during the congress and then only because he didn't trust his wife not to take over the fief while he was gone. Burchard had failed to realize, in his blind determination, Verene was the true head of the house. She allowed him to run things on the surface but beneath that, she and Lionel ran a full-blown rebellion against the man. Verene's family had been old nobility but they were of a more progressive nature. That didn't stop them from marrying her off to a man twenty years her senior just out of the convent to stabilize their failing fief, however. Verene had always secretly supported the current King and Queen for she felt they would be the end of men like her husband.
It had nearly broken her heart to see Joren becoming so similar to her husband. It was her suggestion to Lionel that had brought her son to Paxton's attention and she was seeing that the man had truly worked wonders. Joren no longer seemed to breath arrogance like his father. His friends had gone from would being despots to those that were close friends of and including the girl attempting to become a knight. Just before the entered the master chamber, Verene paused, "As much as it pains me to say this, don't let your father realized that you no longer think the same way he does. It will just lead to him ranting and raving. I will instruct the servants to have your dinner sent to your rooms after you finish your bath too. I doubt you will want to do anything more than rest after your travel and then your father."
"Thank you, Mother," Joren responded quietly before entering the room. Verene didn't bother, her husband was convinced if she went anywhere near him that she was going to kill him. She wasn't, not that she wasn't tempted by this point in his sickness simply to put everyone out of their misery. However, she knew the battle was almost over and when it was, the man she despised above all others would have lost and she in turn would have won. After all, Joren was a far better man than she could have hoped for.
A healer sat in the corner furthest from the fire, clearly sweating from the heat in the room. Joren realized his mother hadn't be exaggerating about the heat in the room and hoped that the interview would be short.
"Come here, boy," Burchard rasped out as soon as he saw Joren. "My heir, you did well by getting here before I passed. If you hadn't, there is no telling what that wretched woman you call a mother would have been up to in order to steal your inheritance."
"Father, you needn't fear. Mother couldn't take Stone Mountain, Uncle Lionel and the crown itself wouldn't have let her," Joren attempted to sooth the dying man.
"Psh… Your Uncle and the Royal family are all bleeding-heart progressives. Though, I suppose the other conservatives would stand up for you if necessary," Burchard paused to give into a violent coughing fit. "That aside, you must promise to keep your mother from wreaking havoc on Stone Mountain. If she had her way, we would beggar ourselves to feed the peasants. Promise you will keep her from destroying this fief, my life's work has been to build us to greater heights, and I won't have us brought down by that common whore, I regret ever allowing her beauty to bewitch me as a foolish younger man. Now promise."
Joren couldn't help the smirk that came to his face. He had long since realized it was his mother that kept the fief from falling to bits under his father's mistreatment it was an easy promise to make and one he could easily keep too, "Very well, if it will make you rest easy. I swear to Mithros himself that I will not allow mother to destroy Stone Mountain or its wealth." Joren worded it carefully, after all, he didn't say anything about allowing his mother to run Stone Mountain, just to not allow her to ruin it. Though there was little chance of that ever occurring.
Burchard sighed in relief and sagged into the bed, his will to stay awake fading quickly now that he had ensured his son's promise. It was mere moments before the man was once more unconscious. Immediately, the healer went to the fire and lowered the flames to a more tolerable temperature and settled into a chair near the fireplace so that he might maintain it more comfortably. Joren nodded to him and exited the room. Immediately, goosebumps rose on every part of his skin as the general cold of the castle pierced through his still thoroughly damp clothing.
He was absolutely shivering by the time he reached his rooms and sighed in relief to see that his bath was prepared, and that steam floated heavily above it. Even Burchard's sweltering room hadn't penetrated to his bones like the cold had so he immediately stripped and noted that, as per his instructions, the water was nearly scalding. He eased himself into it slowly as his valet collected his damp clothing. When the man finally returned, it was with a tray of warm food and Joren was fully immersed. The tray was wide enough the span the bath with room to spare so it was set directly in front of him. This allowed Joren to warm up and eat at the same time.
When he finished eating, he scrubbed the mud and grime from the road off in the now cooling water. When he finished scrubbing, he stood, and his valet dumped a final bucket of hot water over him to rinse him off before holding out a robe for Joren to put on and dry off. By this point, Joren was comfortable and warm once more. He dressed for sleep and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was dreaming of hazel eyes in a pretty, even when determined, face.