A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 17
By Sulia Serafine
[12-20-00. This is a Protector of the Small fanfic; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.
Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!
P.S. What do you know? I got out another chapter before Christmas. Seems that I have no life… Well, actually, this is what I do to pass the time while avoiding cheek-pinching relatives. (I'm sure you've suffered that, too.)]
Numair Salmalin and Duke Baird of Queenscove were the nearest men around that Merric could find. They were on trotting horses along the edge of the road when the knight rode up out of breath. He gripped his reins a little tighter to keep from falling off. The horse balked, and he loosened his grip. "You must come quickly! Sir Esmond and I have found two badly wounded individuals in the royal forest! They may die very soon!"
"By the Gods then, we must hurry!" the duke exclaimed. Numair nodded. Merric turned his horse around and called for them to follow him. As fast as the wind, he led them into the forest where Esmond waited. The knight stood up when they neared and waved his arms.
"You won't believe who it is! Hurry!"
"What? What do you mean?" Numair frowned, slowing his pace. Merric and Duke Baird continued racing to Esmond. The two got down from their horses. The duke knelt by Keladry and Joren, taking into account their wounds. Then, without needing to tell anyone just what was wrong and what he had to do, he called upon his healing magic. The bright threads of his healing power wound themselves around their bodies. Almost instantly, the two injured travelers started to breathe easier in their unconsciousness.
Numair got down from his horse. He walked forward, almost in disbelief. He knew those faces. He had seen them before. "Sir Esmond, who did you say they were?"
"I didn't say."
"Well, then, say it!" Numair ordered. He was so tense that he had yelled at one of the few knights he could stand to be around.
Esmond nodded. "It's… well, it's Joren of Stone Mountain and Keladry of Mindelan."
Merric's eyes were as wide as saucers. He looked like a child. "No! That can't be! The two of them have been missing for years! Four years! After that long search, we thought they were dead!"
"Well, they've barely escaped death," Duke Baird confirmed as he sat back on his heels and panted from the exhausting use of his magic. He cleared his throat. "Merric, ride to the palace and find more help. We can't carry them back alone. I don't want to risk it."
"I thought you healed them," Esmond frowned.
Numair answered for the duke. "Yes, their more fatal wounds are now not life-threatening, but they are still injured."
"I don't want to overstep my place," the young knight said, "But couldn't you heal them, too?"
The magus nodded. "I'd like too, but healing them to full health may be pushing it for their bodies' systems. It is used to managing these sorts of things. The sudden absence of the problem it's setting to correct may pose shock upon the body and cause a heart attack."
The two younger knights blinked.
"Obviously you don't understand. Don't worry about it and just go get more help to bring them to the palace."
~~
My name is Joren of Stone Mountain. I am 21 years old; I'll be 22 soon. I am born with two siblings-- my older brother and my younger sister. Yes, I'm the middle child. Yes, all the stereotypes of being a middle child are true for me. Except I finally resorted to being a jackass to get noticed. And this started at an early age, too. As I lay here at the edge of oblivion, I'm sorry that it was like that. Yes, I was born at Stone Mountain, in Tortall during the reign of King Jonathan III and Queen Thayet. I lived in Tortall for a good deal of my life, then I lived in the world beyond our physical plane. I have been a bully, a page, a squire, a mercenary, and reluctantly, a friend. And then I died.
But not for long. I can sense everything going on around me as if I am conscious. Or rather, as if my mind is lifted out of my dead body to watch over the shoulders of those who recovered me.
I'm sure you already know my story. I go to the Royal Palace of Tortall. I train to become a knight. I have my cronies, not friends. We all have a common interest in being cruel. We think ourselves superior to others. I meet Keladry.
I can't really say I hated her at first site. No, that came later. The first moment I hear about her, I dislike her. When I first see her, I am in shock and denial that there is actually going to be a girl page. And then seconds after that initial response, I hate and cover up the trails of disbelief with smooth lies. Fortunately for Kel, Neal intercepts and becomes her sponsor. It is true what they say. I really would have driven her off within a week.
But the fact is, I don't. She stays. She gains friends, much to my surprise. The odds are against my lackeys and me. So, we back off most of the time. But the hate is still there. No, I don't mind if you call me a pig-headed fool. I deserve it. Just don't go overboard. I'm likely to retaliate.
Anyway, the years pass. I am a squire, but still stuck around the palace. Still stuck around her. I am going to be a knight very, very soon. I'm a little mad now when I think back on it. After all those years of enduring Lord Wyldon, the Stump, and all that hard work, I don't even get to become a knight! I would have been a less than decent knight-- having all the skills, but not the whole chivalry concept… but still-- I could have gotten better in that department. Nothing's impossible.
And so, Keladry and I are thrown into a different plane of existence thanks to my least favorite purple furball. All we ever do is fight. Yes, fight, fight, and fight. We never learn to do anything else. Don't tell anyone, but some days I tried so hard not to fight her, like I know she tried to not fight me. And yet, we still managed to argue. And yell. And scream.
After a time, I found I didn't want to fight her, even when she made me angry. But, it just came-- like everything else.
The only person who was ever close to figuring this out was Egavar, Dark Forest, of Lon Falas. Truly, our first ally. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he has already figured it out. I'm not sure if I've even figured it out. If I did, I wouldn't be rambling on right now like an idiot. I wonder if Egavar is still living back there…
I'm going to live, I hear Duke Baird say. I don't remember much about him. He healed a sprained ankle for me once, when I was in my first year as a page. Don't ask what happened to sprain my ankle. It's one of my more embarrassing moments. Back to the present, we are at the healers-- Keladry and I. A bed that I lay on is unexpectedly soft. I can smell herbs. I try to hear more of the duke's conversation.
In fact, he's talking with Sir Miles. I remember him, too. I suppose he was one of my more favored teachers. It was never boring. It was hard not to take kindly to him, although my cronies and I refused to show our appreciation. We never even talked about things we liked among ourselves. None of us liked each other. We could only hang around together on the basis of the cruelty we had in common. Sir Miles saw it coming in my first year. He took me aside and talked to me about it. I only shrugged and walked away.
I wonder what Sir Miles is doing here. Next thing I'll hear, is the King's voice. Yes, I am sarcastic now, even as I lay half out of unconsciousness. If I could roll my eyes, I would, but I have no strength at all right now. I can't do anything but breathe. For Gods' sake, who else could visit?
"It's a little odd, Your Majesty," Duke Baird began.
Oh, what do you know…? The king is here. Whoop-dee-doo. I mentally roll my eyes.
"What's odd?" King Jonathan asked.
"The wound on… Keladry's… belly is over another previous wound. The scars tell me it was nearly as fatal as the one that we found her with. Both probably would have killed her if the necessary help hadn't been found."
They're absolutely right about that. At Arthados, where Keladry got sliced two years back, I had went all over town until a Kodestrum came and told me he would help on the condition that I would stop bothering the townspeople. I kept up the end of my bargain. And so the magus healed Keladry. Yes, I know what you're thinking. "Aww… Joren has a heart after all." Yes, I do have a heart. Who said I didn't? I just usually ignore it at times. And besides, the main thought running through my head when Keladry lay on the Kodestrum's healing mat was that Neal, her parents, and everyone else would murder me if I came back without her. They'd probably think I killed her.
Would I ever harm Keladry like that? Try to kill her? I don't know. I certainly wound her with words. That's a piece of cake. But to physically drive a dagger through her heart? Slit her throat? Strangle her? I don't know.
I'm ignoring one important fact here.
I'm home.
After all this time, after all my ranting, after all my begging… I am home. Yet, I don't feel any different. I don't feel any happier. I can hear everyone's voices. I am assured it's them. I can smell the Tortallian air. I can breathe it in deeply and praise Mithros and the Goddess.
But I don't.
Because I realize something. Keladry is right. We aren't Tortallians anymore. I feel like a foreigner, lying here in this bed, no longer reveling in its comfortable qualities. I am drawn back to reality. Here, I worry about what to tell the curious men when I fully wake up. I worry what everyone will think of us… of me. Who would've guessed I was insecure like that? I guess I don't even know myself. A long time ago, I was able to do whatever I wanted without worrying about other people. Of course, I was a jerk. And now, I do worry. So, am I still a jerk? If Keladry were awake, she would say yes. She still hasn't forgiven me.
"Ugh…" I groan. Someone is at my side, but I know it isn't the duke or any healer. This person I know, but not very well.
"Someone! He's waking up!" The voice has confirmed my suspicion. I recognize it immediately, albeit his voice has matured a little.
I open my eyes and smirk. He's always taken my smirk the wrong way, thinking that I was about to do something horrible. Now is no exception. He pulls back a little and peers at me with large eyes. He looks more a child right now than Merric does. And with my scratchy, parched throat, I say, "Hello, Queenscove."
Neal gasps. Why the surprise? It's not like I ever call him Neal to his face or anything. "It is you! Joren!"
The tone he is using is the one he uses for friends. Why is he using it for me? It annoys me. "Don't get all mushy, Queenscove, or I'll think of something evil to do to you." I move to sit up, but I can't. Neal helps me by piling a few cushions behind my back. I sneer at him. It's my default reaction for anything he's ever done for me.
He obviously doesn't notice my hostility. "What happened to you and Kel?"
"Long story. I'll explain later. How is she?"
Neal grinned over at Keladry although she was still out cold. "My father said she would be fine. And if you're awake, then she will be too!"
Gods, his enthusiasm makes my ears ring. I am reminded of why I dislike him.
"Keep it down, would you?" I scold him, and grimace. There are heavy bandages around my chest. My heart will be fine though. I have a feeling I could be out fighting around the countryside in no time. I take a few deep breaths and face Neal again. "What major things have happened?"
Neal seemed surprised that I would ask him of all people. He should be. "Uh, well, um…" he stuttered for a bit, then thought of things to say. "Prince Roald got married. The Yaman Islands are our best allies. Hmm… There have been two new girl pages." He paused to examine my reaction. I give him none. He frowns. "Most of the guys around when you were last here are now new knights."
"Like Merric and Esmond," I nodded.
"How did you know that? You were out cold."
I shrug. "What else?"
"The Scanrans have decreased their amounts of raids and attacks. The more harmful immortals are slowly decreasing in number."
I hold up my hand, signaling to him that the information was sufficient. I turn to Keladry and call. "Hey, wake up. Neal's here."
Neal stares at me as if I have two heads. Oh, that's right. I forgot. Keladry never told him how she felt. I wonder if Neal feels that way. It wouldn't surprise me if he did. He is Neal, after all. Having crushes over a billion girls. Now that he sees how mature Keladry has become, he'll probably propose to her when he learns of her feelings.
Keladry groaned a bit as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, then turned her gaze to me, then Neal. She gasped. "We're home?"
"Yes, we're home. Which means I've won the bet," I say to her. She glares at me.
"Kel! Gods, look at you! You're grown up!"
"Of course I am. It's been years," she replied. Without her knowing, her mask was on. I hope Neal doesn't get offended. She does it automatically now.
Wait. I notice something. Before we died and wound back at Tortall, Keladry was in a deep depression. Now that we're home, she's better again? And then I mentally kick myself. Of course she's better again. She's with her precious Neal. But… is she still mad at me? About Owen? About being a jackass in the last few days before our deaths?
"Before our deaths." I almost laugh aloud. There's a phrase you don't hear every day, yet I'd use it often.
~~
Keladry and Joren were reintroduced to the Court a night after their homecoming. By then, they were healthy again. All their classmates who were now either knights or squires on the verge of knighthood greeted them. Everyone was in awe of their fantastic story. Messages were sent to Keladry's and Joren's parents that their children were found. As Joren looked around, he realized he didn't see Vinson, or any of his fellow bullies. He asked Seth, who replied that they did not pass the final test and left.
"Well, are you two looking to become knights now?" Lord Wyldon asks. Joren groaned. The Stump was still there.
"No, not me. I'm happy the way things are now," Joren said in a heartbeat. He glanced at Keladry.
"I don't know. Probably not. I've already become a warrior capable of helping people, which is one of the main reasons I started as a page anyhow." Joren smirked. She was still in her depression if she actually turned knighthood down. The people of the court were actually surprised. Joren wondered how the King's Champion would have reacted if she was here. But no, Alanna was in her home with her family for the season.
"Besides," Keladry continued. "I've just met the two girl pages. They are about to become squires, no? They will please this court and become knights worthy of Tortall." Her mask was still on, Joren saw. What was she really thinking?
A few days passed. Keladry's and Joren's bonds were severed. Everyone expected them to talk together since they were stuck in the other world with each other for so long. But they didn't. They went they separate ways around the palace, but kept the same group of friends. Keladry's family came-- every single one of them. Her sister-in-laws cried and hugged her. Her brothers hugged her as well, without the tears. And she got reacquainted with her younger siblings all over again. Her parents were beside themselves with relief. They had their daughter back.
As for Joren's family-- well, Joren advised them not to come in his message. He would rather go home to Stone Mountain and see his family there. Despite how badly his family was connected to him, they sent back a message with warm words of love.
There was a royal ball. Keladry was not in a dress, but the uniform that most knights wore at balls. The tunic was bright blue and yellow, with the crest of Tortall across the chest. She didn't know what to do with her hair. It was still cropped short to her chin. She didn't feel right wearing the uniform, but after hearing the latter of her story, the King and Queen insisted that she would be counted as great as a knight would. She had not told them about Owen though. That would bring too many questions and reveal too many of her personal thoughts.
Neal, Esmond, Merric, and Seth all talked with her. They stood in one corner with wineglasses talking about the last four years. Keladry could not get over it. She was home. After she had given up hope, they were home. But something felt wrong. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Joren. He was standing across the ballroom, looking rather bored.
"Excuse me, I'll be right back," she told her friends and crossed the large ballroom to meet him. He was dressed in his normal clothes. She noticed it was mended so he wouldn't look too shabby at the royal ball. This time, he wore a crisp white shirt under his gray vest with the golden lining. And his pants, she realized, weren't his normal ones after all. They looked new, unlike his weathered pants.
"Hey," she said, standing before him.
"Hey."
There was a long awkward silence between them. Keladry cleared her throat. "I, um, heard you're going back home."
"Yeah," Joren nodded. She was talking to him? He thought she hated him. Well, she probably did still, but trying to be civil before he left. "I'm going home to see my family for a few months, than I've decided to be a mercenary again."
"I thought you had enough of the warrior's life." She looked at him accusingly.
"Well, I don't know how to do anything else. There's nothing else I'm good at, or patient enough to learn."
"Oh," she said quietly. Joren ran a hand nervously through his hair.
"So, what's new with you?"
She gulped. "Uh, Neal asked me to marry him. And I said yes."
"Congratulations," Joren smiled. It was a fake as far as she could tell.
"You aren't objecting?"
"Why would I object? I'm the one who told you that you were in love him in the first place, remember?"
She looked disappointed at his reaction. "Right. Sorry. So, I guess I'll see you around."
"Not likely," he said and walked away.
~~
Author: Again, no flames please! This isn't the end! Although our two characters have now come home, there still is a story left. Thanks for reading.