A Life Less Ordinary: Chapter 18
By Sulia Serafine
[12-22-00. 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.)]
I am Keladry of Mindelan. I am 18 years old. Around this age, I would have taken the test for knighthood, but as you already know-- I got "sidetracked". The King still offers me the chance to go ahead and take the test. He says I can come back at any time and take it. I'd rather not. I'm content with life right now.
Yes, my life… There's not much to my life, if you count out the four to five years I was stuck wandering around with my former partner, Joren of Stone Mountain. I was born in Tortall, but I spent the latter of my childhood in the Yaman Islands. For a long time, I tried to prove myself to the people there. When I finally did and kept their approval, we had to move back.
By that time in my life, I already had my cold stone mask. You know-- how I always say, "Be as stone" or "Calm as a peaceful lake"? All that comes from my training. Learning it so early on in life cursed me forever. I could look indifferent to the world but inside I was really angry or sad… or maybe even happy. There are only three people that can tell my emotions past my mask.
- My father.
- My mother.
- Joren.
I don't mind it at all. My parents are my parents. They should know how I feel. And as for Joren… he isn't around so I don't worry about him-- it's not that I don't worry. He knows all my weaknesses and has attacked them often. I have attacked his. All we ever do is hurt each other. It's sick and twisted, yet it defines our friendship.
If you can really call such a damned thing a friendship…
I don't usually curse. But he brings out the worst in me. You know-- I don't even want to talk about it. Let's get back to the events of my life. I was a page for a few years. You know the story. Everyone knows the story about that. I was all the news for the first two weeks to the whole entire palace. (It's unnerving to see people whisper about you constantly. "Oh! There goes that girl page. What a tomboy!")
I really liked my glaive. I preferred it to my sword from the beginning. Yet, it was a sword that I ended up using most often in the other world. Glaives and pole arms like that didn't exist over there. Or if they did, I didn't see them. I also practiced the fighting arts in my spare time. All the court ladies were taught some degree of fighting arts to defend themselves in the Yaman Islands.
So I fought in the Miran war. I don't like war, yet I knew it was inevitable that I fight in one. When you're a knight, or any highly honored warrior for that matter, you're expected to participate. And who am I to disappoint?
Let's get back on track. I am Keladry of Mindelan, soon to be of Queenscove. The wedding of Nealan (he still hates to be called that, but it seems proper for me to call him that in rite of marriage) and I will be held in the temple district of Corus two months hence. I will be wearing a wedding gown. Yes, that's me in a dress. I wore dresses while I was a page to remind everyone who I was. But in the other world, it was an inconvenience, therefore banished from my wardrobe.
I suppose I can stomach it for one day. I just hope Neal doesn't mind that he'll never see me in another dress there after. Imagine a wife who never wore dresses. If I had children, who I do dread having for some reason, they would hear everyone call their mother a tomboy. Maybe Neal would become embarrassed.
And another thing: I would be waiting at home, tending to the manor or fief or wherever we ended up while Neal slew evil monsters and bad men all the time. I'd be stuck with female servants who sat in my solar sewing. I'd probably be put in charge of the linen or arranging things for my children. What are the chances that I'll go back to the Yaman Islands? At least there, my mother had a place at the court and had fun training with glaives.
I should stop thinking like that. If I keep on with it, I'll jilt Neal at the altar. I wouldn't want that. He's a good friend--
No… He's a good future-husband. I have loved him since we were both pages. Well, it was a crush, but something happened along the way. And there's nothing wrong with that. I love Neal. Even Joren said I do. I admit it now. I didn't love Owen. I'm sorry he died because he loved me so much to follow me into battle. I have many regrets.
Goddess, help me. I don't want to be mushy. It's me for goodness' sake! All this talk of love is making my guts grumble. Yet, love is a big part of my life. Just as much as the fight is.
The fight will always have its place in my mind. Before I knew friendship, I knew the fights and black eyes of those I had to defend myself against. Before I realized I had love, I fought. I still fight. I did most of my fighting with Joren--
What's wrong with me today?
I walk around the stables to watch the two girl pages. They look to each other for friendship and support, but they don't alienate themselves against the boys. They're all a nice group of children and will make great knights. At least Lord Wyldon allows me to be here and watch them. Before I asked him, I was afraid he'd want me away, just like Alanna was kept away from me.
By the way, I did meet the King's Champion three days ago. She heard I was found again and rushed on over from Pirate's Swoop with her son as her only company. Thom is a nice guy, but he's distant. I think it's because he's never been around his mother as much as he wants to. His mother is the Lioness. Her smiles are shared with everyone. Her time is shared with the whole country. Her husband knew this when he married her, but Thom was born into it, as well as his other siblings. I haven't met them, but he told me about them. They have accepted it better than Thom has.
I prefer his company to my former fellow pages, not including Neal. He's stoic, yes, but thoughtful at least. He's not as talkative as neither Neal nor Owen, but insightful and candid. I wish I could think as clearly as he does. It would help me sort out my mind so much easier.
Daine told me that Peachblossom passed away while I was gone. I was sad at first, but the wildmage told me that she took care of him. I almost expect to see my bay gelding in his stall. Stefan waves to me from where he is pitching hay. I wave back and walk out.
~~
A few weeks later.
Joren had to speak with Faleron because he was staying at his family's home until he was able to drive some spidrens out of the area. Faleron's mother had a message for him and had asked Joren to deliver it. The young mercenary was none too happy to go back to the palace. He knew that was where all his troubles stayed.
The palace was just as he had left it: filled with people he held no hatred for, a reminder of his days as a youth in knights' training, and the start of all his troubles. He avoided most of his former classmates. They didn't even know he was there. And it was going to stay like that. He sneaked around the palace constantly. Even Sir Miles didn't make himself aware of the blonde's presence (and if he did, he did not bother to investigate his peculiar behavior).
The second day he was there, he found the young knight talking to Sir Raoul of the King's Own. The burly man greeted Joren and even shook his hand. "I heard about you from his majesty. That must be nearly the strangest thing I've ever heard."
"Should I take that as a compliment?" Joren thought. Aloud, he said, "It's an honor meeting you sir."
"Just call me Raoul. You must talk with Faleron, right? I will see the two of you later." With that, he strode off. There was an aura of strength around that man. Joren admired and respected it. He turned to the younger man.
"Your mother wants you to come home with me to help with the spidrens. And also to introduce you to a potential bride."
Faleron frowned. He didn't mind the spidrens, but-- "Bride? Did she say bride? The last three women she's introduced me to were terrible! She's still at it?"
"She's your mother," Joren shrugged, as if it explained everything.
"I suppose you're right. Well, I'll go report to Sir Gareth that I'm leaving. I'll meet you at my room."
Everything was set. On the third morning, Joren and Faleron would leave. And hopefully he would never return. It was the road for him, now and forever. Joren woke up extra early. While Faleron was just getting up to eat breakfast, Joren was out at the stables. He took care of his horse and checked his saddlebags. Being a little extra paranoid of his former fellow classmates, Joren left a note for Faleron to meet him at the front gate of the Palace.
But despite his efforts, one person did know he was there. She crept up behind him and leaned on a wooden post, waiting for him to turn around. He did.
"Ah!" he nearly jumped. "Keladry? What are you doing here?"
"Talking to you. What does it look like?" she answered in a monotone voice.
He shivered. "As cold as ever," he thought, and went back to checking the straps on his horse. "Do you mind? I'm leaving soon."
"Oh, that's right. You're a lone mercenary," she drawled over the words as if they bored her. He glared at her.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing." She continued to stare at him with her penetrating brown eyes. He frowned.
"Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be at Queenscove with your husband?"
Keladry darkened. "No."
"Well, why not?"
"Because he's not my husband."
This left him speechless. He turned around and examined her face. She wasn't lying. "Why? I thought you both had that mutual love thing going on. "
"Why do you care?" she asked in a quiet voice. The ice was melting a little, but not enough to count for emotion.
He stiffened. "Just answer the question."
"Because you love me."
Damn. His heart was starting to hurt again. Why did he have to go and get wounded there anyway? Joren fought to breathe, but he found it difficult. The words just hit him like a hammer to his head. Was he actually getting dizzy? He shook his head clear and backed away from his horse. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're crazy."
"We established that fact about the two of us a long time ago," Keladry retorted. She took a few steps closer to him so they were at arms' length of each other.
"Don't you love Neal?"
She sighed. "I did. A few days before the wedding, I realized I fell out of love with him when I tried to see him in Owen's eyes. I had let love run its course. There's no shame in that. So, I told Neal. We ended the wedding plans calmly in private. He was very nice about it." She paused and allowed the edge of her lip to curl up into a smirk. "But he won't talk to me for a few months."
"Oh," Joren said. He blinked. "That's good for you, I guess. But I really have to go."
"Joren."
He stopped before he put his foot in the stirrup. He didn't turn to look at her though. "What?"
"For how long?"
He coughed. "I, uh, don't understand."
She glared at him accusingly. "How long have you loved me?"
Joren really had to get a healer look at his heart. It might be a hindrance to his job. He mounted up and ran his hand through his hair. He chuckled sadly. "Years."
Keladry folded her arms and nodded, as if telling herself that she was right all along. "Why then didn't you ever tell me?"
He gazed at her. After a few seconds, he said in a very sober voice, "Because I've been spending every waking second of those years trying to fall out of love with you."
"I thought," she started, "…I thought that you were supposed to try and win the heart of the person you loved, not try to drive them away."
His hands tightened on the reins, but he didn't tug on them to discomfort the horse. He let his emotions surface. "Just go away Keladry."
"No! Not until you tell me why," she said through clenched teeth.
He leaned down towards her. "We don't belong together! Don't you see? All we ever do is fight. Even on our good days, we argue endlessly. And I always end up hurting you, and you do the same to me. I don't want my life to be like that!" He put his hand to his forehead. "We're not good for each other. No doubt, we'd end up murdering each other by the first year."
"We should at least try!" she cried, a sob buried in her throat. Tears did not spill from her eyes, but Joren knew that was the most that anyone's ever gotten out of her. He shook his head and put the anger out of his voice.
"Look, Kel," he said softly. "I don't want to fight you anymore."
"Then don't! It's not so hard," she argued.
"Yes it is! We're doing it right now!"
"That's because you're not admitting how you truly feel."
"I am admitting my feelings! Kel, this is how I feel! I don't want to be around you anymore. It's better that way," he said. Kel didn't respond that time. Instead, she stood with her fists balled up at her sides. Joren cursed under his breath. "Kel, please. Don't make this any harder. You know it," he paused. His throat was closing up because he was working hard not to cry. "You know it and I know it. This is the end."
"Don't cry, Joren," he told himself. "She doesn't cry. Look at her! Her eyes aren't even watery. Don't cry. Just leave now, before it's too late."
He moved his horse forward. "Do you agree with me now Kel?"
She looked up with him. "No. But if you want to leave, I can't stop you."
"It's the end. You can't stop me," he reconfirmed her statement.
"Then take this back. I don't want it." She reached into a pouch hanging from her belt and drew out the tiny ivory cat he had given to her for the winter holidays. She handed it to him. He held it in his shaking palm.
"You still have this?" he asked quietly.
"I carried it with me everywhere," she confessed. "Even into battle." She turned her back on him. "Go then. If you're too much a coward to try with me, then leave. I don't care."
He put the cat inside his jacket and goaded his horse to move forward. "Goodbye, Lump. Have a… have a nice life."
He flicked the reins. The horse sprung into a gallop, leaving behind the stables where Keladry stood crying.
~~
Author: *reads the last few sentences* Man, that was sad. What am I thinking?! Don't be too mad at me for letting the chapter end like this. Just be sure to check back regularly for chapter 19. Happy Holidays.