It Could Be Worse (2nd Season)
Episode 21:
When I Was Young
By Sulia Serafine
[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.
BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…)! E-mail me at silverwlng@aol.com okay? And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw.
IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm still accepting people into the mailing list. That means you'll be told when the next episode is posted, as well as other tidbits of information about the series whenever I put them online. ALSO: Every now and then, as a pledge, I'll send everyone bonus material, such as drawings of ICBW characters and little random facts about ICBW.
Rating: kinda PG-13. Mostly weird humor.
~~
"Oh, by Glory! How could I have forgotten?! He's going to chop off my head and serve it with enchiladas!" Keladry cried as sat up and stumbled out of bed. A minute previous, she had awoken and drowsily rolled over. Seconds later, she went on to wonder what day it was. And that was when it hit her.
It was her best friend's birthday.
For as long as she knew him, Neal had been there for her like a brother. He and Owen had taken a shy, nervous little girl and made her into one of them, the cool cadets whom everyone knew. She'd had hardly any friends before they came along, but they shrugged it off, showed her the ropes, and accepted her all in the first day of their meeting.
Sure, he may have chased girls all the time. His bachelorism didn't bother her as much as she showed.
"Please understand, Tough Stuff. Bachelorism isn't just a weird sounding noun. It's a state of mind." He paused. "Scratch that. It's a religion."
Keladry stopped in front of her closet, smiling inwardly at the memories. She grabbed the first outfit that touched her hands. After dressing in record time, she grabbed her credits (Cleon had borrowed all her hard money, i.e. Nobles and coppers, the day before) and prepared to run out the door for the greatest last-minute gift she could find. A person does not always have to purchase a gift to show they cared, but Neal was a bit materialistic at times. Keladry simply had to shop until the ultimate gift was found.
But then her doorbell rang.
If she weren't as self-disciplined as she was, Keladry would have screamed in frustration.
Putting on her most polite face, she pressed the intercom. "Mindelan, 1T. Can I help you?"
"Kel! It's me, Owen! Peg and I flew in from the Roof to surprise Neal for his birthday!"
Yes. That proves it. I am a horrible friend. Owen is the other third of our trio and he most certainly remembered! Keladry thought miserably. Putting on a large grin, she opened the door. Before she knew what was going on, she was swept up in a tight hug. She only received one moment to look over Owen's shoulder at the unfamiliar woman smiling at her because Owen began swinging Kel around in circles.
"Owen!" she yelled.
"Kel!" he shouted joyfully back.
"Owen!" she called more insistently.
"Kel!" he laughed loudly.
"Owen, she wants you to put her down," the woman informed, snickering from the doorway.
The blushing DJPF scout came to an abrupt halt. He sheepishly smiled and set his friend on the ground gently. Keladry blinked and shook her head vigorously to stop the dizziness.
"Kel, I want you to meet Peg. You remember her from my mail, right?"
Peg stepped forward, smoothing down her shirt. Both she and Owen were wearing their uniforms still, having come straight from the airport. Just as Owen had described, Peg looked like a surfer. Her dirty blond hair was tied back in a ponytail and her skin was deeply tanned. Even the sway to her steps reminded Keladry of someone strutting on the beach with a surfboard under one arm.
Keladry squinted. "I'm sorry, Peg. I'd love to shake your hand… just as soon as the room stops spinning."
The offending young man blushed a deeper shade of red and traced a pattern on the floor with the toe of his boot. His girlfriend hooked her arm with his and gave it a squeeze. Keladry, her head cleared, led them to the couch.
"When did you arrive?" Kel asked.
"This morning. We stopped for breakfast on the way here. This is fine city. I bet you all have a jolly good time here," Owen remarked. He jumped up from his seat. "Golly! Our stuff is out in the hall. I'd better get it."
Keladry frowned. "You can always stay here. There are spare apartments, and you are officers."
Peg also stood up. "Can we really?"
"Government funded housing. 'They do their best to support their DJPF,'" quoted Kel. "I'll talk to Stefan for you, later."
"Thank you so much, Kel. Owen has told me a lot about you." Peg smiled. Whenever Owen had been bothered by Aiden's and Crown's activities, he would seek refuge at her tent. When they weren't sneaking kisses, he had told her about his life at the Academy with his two best friends, Neal and Keladry. Peg felt like she had grown up with them, too.
Owen reentered with the luggage and joined their conversation. Keladry knew she should have been at the shops by then, scouring the shelves for the perfect gift, but she couldn't leave her guests there. If her mother taught her anything, it was to be a polite and well-mannered hostess. She reminisced with Owen over their youth. Then, Owen and Peg recalled their lives since Owen's last letter. The Immortals had found homes where they could live in peace. Owen's group had even spent a day with merpeople in their new lake.
They'd seen wondrous places one normally wouldn't predict to find at the Roof of the World. Keladry wished they had brought pictures. Her imagination wasn't as vibrant as it used to be. The words floated around her head, but they did not transform into something her mind could see.
"It sounds so exciting," Keladry said.
"It is! It would be so hard to start living down south again," Owen sighed.
The doorbell rang again. She rolled her eyes. She was never going to get out of her apartment to buy Neal a gift.
Keladry answered the door. Joren entered, frowning slightly when he saw that she had company seated on her couch. She could tell that he had planned on not working that day because he was dressed in civilian clothing.
"Kennan and King reserved the pool hall for tonight. I suppose they forgot to tell you."
"Wait. How do you know about his birthday?" she asked, mortified at the thought of Joren—someone who hated Neal like a cartoon dog hated a cartoon cat—knowing about the birthday before she did.
"They begged to borrow a significant amount of money from me last Monday…to rent the pool hall," he clarified after a moment. Her blue-eyed partner seemed to be reading her thoughts. "What, did you actually—"
She could have died of humiliation right there. Her cheeks flushed a pale pink color. Joren considered deepening her guilt by lingering on the topic. Instead, he walked toward her guests. He rested half his weight against the back of an armchair. "So, Jesslaw. You're still in the DJPF. How nice."
Although Owen knew the words were dripping in sarcasm, he didn't want to start any verbal battles with the offensive officer. Peg's elbow was in his side, prodding him to say something that would defend himself. But Owen knew Joren's ways. It would be pointless. He shrugged. "I figure I have a few more years before I become incompetent."
Joren's eyebrows rose imperceptibly. Owen was going about this better than he used to when they were still in the Academy (not that Joren ever paid too much attention to Owen and Neal at all). He turned to Keladry, having followed him from the door.
"J-" she began, then stopped. Glancing at Owen and Peg, she corrected herself. "Stone, isn't there somewhere else you have to be?"
He smirked as he brushed off invisible lint from his shoulder. "No, but I'll take the hint if you will step outside with me just for a moment."
"It's okay, Kel. You go ahead," Owen told her. He didn't know how badly Joren still treated Keladry, but he bet whatever was said between them wasn't friendly. He hated to imagine her taking all that crap from him, but then again, Owen supposed that she had learned to handle herself by now.
Peg squeezed his hand. He smiled at her.
Joren and Keladry left her apartment and stood outside her closed door. He looked down the hallway in both directions. Convinced that no one was exiting his residence any time soon, he darted forward and covered her lips with his own. She easily surrendered, taking in the whole scent of him and the warmth of his hard, well-toned body against hers.
A muffled groan of satisfaction escaped Joren's mouth. He pulled back until only his forehead rested against hers. "Was damned annoyed when I arrived to find you not alone. I suppose I'll forgive you just this once, though you don't deserve it," he smirked. "While they're here, it would be better to knock on my door instead of the other way around."
She nodded. Perhaps it was her lucky day after all. Her reluctant lover was actually in an amused mood. Keladry would be sure to enjoy that mood for as long as possible before he became aloof and awful again. She sighed in contentment as he backed her against the wall and started his sweet ministrations again.
"By the way," he muttered, pressing his mouth against the part of her neck just below her ear, "don't worry about Queenscove's present. I'll pick one up and put your name on it."
"Really?" Keladry asked, very surprised. Sure, his attitude was pleasant now, but she had never witnessed it become this pleasant. If she didn't know any better, he could pass for any normal young man doing his "girlfriend" a favor.
Joren sensually traced one finger from the center of her backside, around her ribs, to a point between her breasts. "Just make sure you stop by later. I won't forge your signature as a one-time courtesy." He paused. "And you can… pay me back for it. I'm sure you can think of something."
I wish he acted like this all the time, Keladry thought, drowning in giddiness. It was as if she were drunk. She was intoxicated with his voice, rumbling low in his throat. It was incredibly sexy to hear. She didn't know if she could handle seeing his bad side again. Kel knew she would, but if it was a price to pay for getting this version of Joren Stone before her… maybe she really could adjust.
"You better go back inside. 'Jolly Jesslaw' must think I've murdered you by now," he snickered.
"Yeah," she managed to say, still frozen to the spot with his ice blue eyes. He leaned forward and stole one last deep kiss, squeezing her tight against him so she could feel his desire for her. Then he quickly disentangled himself and started for his apartment without so much as a goodbye.
She shook her head. That was Joren for you. Always the dramatic (but not overdone) exit.
Upon seeing her again, Owen stood up. "Hi Kel! We were just wondering—hey, what's that bruise on your neck?"
Keladry would swear later that she could hear Joren, wherever he was, laugh with mischievous triumph.
~~
"This is awesome! Everyone's here!" Neal shouted over the music. He wiped away an imaginary tear. "I feel so loved…"
The same pool hall where Keladry had celebrated her birthday a few months ago was now hosting Neal's 26th birthday party. He usually spent his birthday with Keladry and Owen, staying at home to watch a movie and to fling popcorn at each other. This year, he had made so many new friends and acquaintances, everyone insisted on throwing him a party.
It was a huge turnout. They had put up balloons and streamers. Sparkling confetti was flung on the booths while the finger foods and free drinks were laid out at the bar. Random flyers had been passed around the DJPF station. Officers who barely knew Neal by face, let alone by name, showed up with a small gifts, big smiles or both.
"Thanks a lot, guys. I don't think I've ever had a party as great as this," he said. He, Faleron, and Cleon were standing by the door, greeting people as they entered. Some officers had already started a game of billiards in the back while the others were talking and eating.
Faleron swallowed his food and smiled. "It was nothing."
At that moment, Roald, Lalasa, and Thom entered. Thom was still very weak, but well enough to stop by the party before he went home the next day to Carthak. He shook hands with Neal and excused himself to get a drink of water. He did not know Neal at all, but Lalasa did and Thom felt safer with large groups of people around.
"Happy Birthday, Neal," Roald said loudly. Lalasa handed Neal a gift and repeated the same words. She teased Neal about pairing up with a friend of hers, slyly winking at him while her boyfriend leaned toward Cleon.
"What is it, Dude?"
Roald pointed over his shoulder. "My sister is outside. She stopped to say hello to Ms. Sarrasri and Mr. Salmalin."
The redhead's face lit up. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Cleon whooped in joy before running out the door of the pool hall toward the parking lot. Roald rolled his eyes and took his spot beside Faleron. "Some things never change, eh?"
"No, not in his case."
From outside, they could hear a feminine shriek of surprise shortly followed by a resounding slap.
"Oh!" Roald snapped his fingers. He nudged the former thief with his arm. "Fianola is on her way here, too. While we were picking up my sister at the airport, we bumped into some of the Riders. The other half of the group is finally home."
Faleron struggled to contain his excitement. He fidgeted on the spot, glancing over his shoulder when he thought Roald wasn't looking. Finally, he just turned and peered out the door. "Really?"
The Vice President's son nodded. "You can go out to check. I'll catch up with you later."
He smoothed invisible wrinkles from his shirt. He stuck his chin up in the air and scoffed. "Alright, but I'm not going to be like Cleon and run out there at full tilt. I'm more dignified than that."
"Sure you are."
Roald received a glare from his friend before Faleron exited in a slightly fast walking pace. He returned his attention to something Neal was saying to Lalasa over a bout of laughter.
Within another half an hour, the party was in full swing. Neal had started a surprisingly goofy game of building a house of cards on one of the pool tables. The pool players accidentally knocked the card houses over with their cues as they passed by. And though the pool hall did not really contain space to dance, a few officers and civilians did so anyway. The rest of the guests sat at the bar, conversing with each other.
Keladry wasn't much in the mood for building a house of cards with Neal and Owen (their team was winning; the little structure was 3 levels high while Ulliver and Wolset were at two levels). She also didn't feel inclined to dance by herself (Joren dance with her? Phsaw) and she usually never danced anyway.
Just as she was about to head toward the refreshment table, Lalasa sauntered over, carrying two plastic cups of punch.
"Hey girl!"
"'Lasa, hi," Keladry smiled. She could always count on the sassy Carthaki to reverse her mood. Lalasa put the two cups down on the bar top and sat beside her. Kel started to say something, but a small shiny object caught her eye. Her eyes widened. "Lalasa, is that a diamond ring?"
Her friend lifted up her left hand to Keladry's inspection. "Sure is!"
The diamond was tiny, but it was real. The band of silver on which it was embedded was just as bright. She gaped at the piece of jewelry. "Roald proposed?!"
Lalasa nodded vigorously. She grasped Keladry's hands and squeezed them. "He asked yesterday! I thought it would never happen!"
As if guided by some unseen force, Keladry gazed across the room and found Roald among the crowd right away. The quiet politician's son was probably the most levelheaded person Keladry knew beside herself. He was firmly rooted to moderate ideals and steadfast in all other matters, personal or not. At first, she had doubted if a solid, conserved attitude like that would attract an outspoken, vibrant person like Lalasa.
Apparently, they were an outstanding example of the infamous principle, "opposites attract".
Not that they're the only ones, Keladry thought. She couldn't see Joren anywhere, but she wasn't too disappointed. Parties weren't his kind of 'thing'. Her attention returned to her friend as Lalasa began to relate to her the details of the proposal.
"Oh!" Lalasa exclaimed in the middle of her story.
"What is it?"
"That reminds me of who else has gotten together," she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Keladry inwardly panicked. Had Lalasa found her out? She nervously sipped from her punch and cocked her head to the side. "Really? Who?"
Lalasa gestured to her employer at another pool table. "I caught Ms. Sarrasri and Mr. Salmalin making out in the office." She shuddered at the thought. "I mean… it's nice and all that they've found each other, but it's my boss—making out with another guy who could also be my boss. A guy who quite frequently reminds me of my boss. It's weird."
Exhaling with relief, Keladry nodded agreeably. The idea in Keladry's mind was equivalent to Flyndon dating Commissioner Wyldon. She had an inclination to retch after that thought had entered her head. She drank again, not stopping until she had downed the whole cup.
"Thirsty, are ya? Here, sugar. I'll go get us some more," Lalasa said. She picked up the cups and headed toward the punch bowl.
While she was gone, Neal approached, cordless phone in hand. Keladry showed him an expression of confusion as he took Lalasa's seat, still attentively listening to the person on the other side. When he was done, he held the phone at length from himself, stared at it almost in disbelief, and tapped the button to hang up.
"Neal?"
He turned to her, eyes unblinking and a bit incredulous. "Guess who that was."
"I don't know. You tell me."
Her elder friend rested his chin on his knuckles, phone still in hand. "Uline, back at HQ."
Keladry smiled slightly. "Oh. Well, that's nice of her to call. I didn't know you two were that close."
"Pen pals, really. I need something to fill up the time I have when I'm not out pursuing a wo—" he stopped there and cleared his throat. "Well, besides that, do you remember her fiancé?"
She cringed. "Iden or something, right? Warric's magazine editor of a cousin?"
He nodded. "Was. Now it's Warric. Uline just invited me to the wedding as well as wishing me happy birthday."
"Warric? Really?"
Neal shrugged. "Never saw that one coming." He hopped off the stool when Lalasa approached again. "Just wanted to give you the heads up! Want to come down to Tortall with me for the ceremony?"
"Sure, but I have to clear up my schedule first. I'll get back to you on it," Keladry replied. She made a shooing motion. "Go enjoy your party, Nealan."
"Yes, Mother!" he called over his shoulder. He retreated back to his friends, now flicking cards at each other from the fallen card houses.
Afterwards, Keladry continued talking with Lalasa about nothing in particular. They covered a broad range of topics, including the hazards of learning to cook. The Carthaki had had an incident not too long ago involving an experimental recipe. Roald had to use the extinguisher while Lalasa had unsuccessfully attempted to shut off the loud blaring of the smoke alarm.
The conversation gradually came to a close. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, allowing each young woman to survey the party. The originally Tortallan officer perked up when she spotted the last person she expected to see at the pool hall.
She excused herself from Lalasa and sauntered toward the winding hallway in the back, which led to the restrooms. As soon as she was out of sight from the main room, a leather glove covered hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her quickly against the side of a darkened figure she had not glimpsed in time. He backed her into the shadows behind the public COMscreen booths.
A ledge on the wall dug into her back uncomfortably. She hissed and gently pushed her captor away from her so she could rub her back.
"As much as I enjoy you when you're not suicidal or homicidal, you've still got to stop being so rough," she grumbled. Keladry's complaint was rewarded with a pinch in the side.
"Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black to me," Joren retorted. She couldn't see his face, but she knew that his eyes were regarding her humorously from under half-lowered eyelids.
Keladry slapped at the hand that had pinched her. "Are you calling me violent?"
He emitted a low chuckle and rubbed at the hand she had just struck. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Aggravated by her self-made irony, Keladry folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. He moved forward and wrapped his arms around her. His lips descended upon hers, erasing all hostile attitudes for the time being. The blond young man leaned in hungrily. By the time he was done with her, her lips would be swollen and another curious mark would be upon her neck.
While nipping at her collarbone, he grinned impishly. "Hey… let's ditch this place."
Keladry thought of Neal, whom she owed many days of friendship and happiness. She groaned. "No, I can't. It's his birthday!"
"Just ten minutes," Joren cajoled.
A squeeze caused her to gasp and let out another delighted sound. She forced herself to focus. Willpower! Willpower, Mindelan! What sort of girl are you? Keladry sighed. "No, I really can't."
"Five minutes then."
She entwined her hands in his hair and brought his mouth back up to level with hers. Joren knew if he could just hold strong for a bit longer, she would give in and agree with him. It was her weakness. But not his.
"Okay, okay," Keladry relented. "In an hour or so. Just hang around and talk with Dom or something. Please?" She unceremoniously squealed again when he silently communicated his response. Her cheeks were still flushed red when the two finally emerged from the shadows, five minutes apart from each other.
Nothing too exciting happened until an hour later. Few still played at billiards while others had settled into a peaceful quiet. A holoscreen was turned on so the sports fans could view the football game that was taking place on the other side of the country. Neal and another female officer whom Keladry was not familiar with were becoming cozy in a booth, their privacy respected by the rest of the party.
It was at this point that the phone rang. The bartender answered it. He had held it up to his ear for less than ten seconds before calling out to the highest ranked person there to answer.
Buri stepped forward, shooting dark looks at the first class officers who thought that it was their call. Numair and Daine, assuming that it was DJPF business, had not budged an inch from their seats. Technically, they were the highest ranked people there, but such a general announcement would never have been made for them. The Council wasn't that public about its affairs.
"What do you think it is?" Daine murmured to her companion.
Numair shrugged. He sipped his drink. "I don't know, but the look on KJ's face tells me that she already knows. Should we ask?"
The councilwoman turned to stare at Kalasin. As he had said, Kalasin displayed a rather remorseful and miserable expression. Her fingertips drummed against her the jaw of her face. She was deep in contemplative thought over a difficult issue.
The redhead beside her was also wondering the same thing as the Council members. Cleon wanted to ask what was going on, but he wasn't sure he would like the answer. In the end, he did ask. What surprised him most was that she willingly complied and told him.
They observed his face transform from curious to grim while Kalasin whispered into his ear. The news was certainly not welcome. Not too long after, Buri ended her conversation with Flyndon and cleared her throat. The noise of the pool hall disappeared at once.
She gave Neal an apologetic look before she spoke loudly, "All investigative units, move out! Suit up and get to the site. The addresses will be sent to your pagers momentarily." Buri paused. "A mass murder has occurred. Bodies have been found all across the city. Current evidence has been gathered to the extent that all victims are now suspected to be the cryptic bombers from the winter holiday. Allegations have been made also concerning their connection with the burning of Tortall's DJPF Academy."
Though no one wanted to move after her announcement, they forced themselves to do so with heavy hearts. The officers that had been called gathered their things immediately, checking their pagers sadly as they went out the door. A few of them called back half-hearted goodbyes to Neal, who was also preparing to leave.
Even though he was among those who were not assigned to particular investigative units, he did not doubt that he would be asked to do something sooner or later that night. Neal put on a happy face, hoping to show that his birthday was not ruined at all. He'd had great fun up until then. That was all that mattered.
"I guess he said to hell with mob politics," Thom muttered. He gulped down more red wine and made a face of disgust at the turn of events.
Joren heard him. Who was he? He narrowed his eyes. Swiftly, he went up to Thom and took the inventor by the wrist, guiding him toward a secluded area to speak. The older man went without protest, fearing the officer and his reputation. Keladry watched from a distance and frowned.
Elsewhere, others said their goodbyes and farewells without bitter thoughts and glasses of alcohol. The Riders gathered their things and chatted with the remaining civilians as they prepared to join their boss downtown.
"Do you have to go, too?" Faleron asked Fianola. She grimaced.
"Probably. If Raoul hasn't called for us by now, he will. This isn't his territory, but then again, he never leaves Flyn's jurisdiction alone." The petite girl embraced him and sighed. "I'll talk to you soon, okay?"
"Of course," he replied, shyly accepting a chaste kiss on the cheek from her. They parted ways like other officer and civilian couples were doing at the same time.
After ten minutes, most of everyone had cleared out. The party was over. The bartender and the bus boys began cleaning the booths while another bald man swept the floor.
Keladry lingered at the door. She did plan on going, but she stayed back to see what Joren would do. She watched Joren carefully for his reaction. "I was thinking we should follow Cleon and Neal. What do you think?"
Her blond partner adjusted his jacket. He didn't even look at her face as they exited the pool hall and emerged into the cold night air. The thin blanket of snow crunched underneath their feet. She shivered from the sudden chill across her skin, but he did not flinch at all.
"I've got something to do. Just follow them. I'll catch up later," he gruffly informed her and turned in the direction of his motorcycle. Keladry reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Wait!"
"Mindelan! I have not got the time right now!" he barked.
She withdrew her hand immediately. Keladry could barely believe her ears. "What did you call me?"
His eyes had become a cool wall of ice between them. It offered her no answers, nor any traces of warmth. She stepped back and clenched her fists by her sides. So, just as she had suspected, his good mood had not lived to last the day. The Joren she was more familiar with had returned.
"Just… just go, Mindelan. There'll be time to talk later." He walked away. A dozen retorts came to her mind, but she couldn't find the boldness to shout them. Keladry angrily turned on her heel and headed toward her own motorcycle.
There was always time for them to talk later. Later was all they ever had. And all she ever wanted… was now.
~~
He had not bothered checking the old building. There was no doubt in his mind that the building had been cleared out ages ago. Not one shred of evidence would be left behind. It would be as if the dark underworld of Tusaine had never existed. Not even retired members of the notorious mafia would testify to its being.
Only Joren would care to remember. Only he would want to speak of it aloud.
After dismounting from his motorcycle, he wandered aimlessly until his feet led him back to his old apartment again. He let out a deep breath and crossed the street. The world around him was as silent as death. He could feel it invade his being like the iciness of winter that seeped into his bones.
A sudden movement at the corner of his eye caused him to jerk left and reach for his gun. When he identified the newcomer, he relaxed and waved him over.
"Come on. I have no time for this. Not like you."
Liam snorted skeptically at Joren's bitter statement. He came toward Joren and seated himself beside the blue-eyed man on the curb of the street. The nearest lamppost flickered on and off while fog from steam vents floated up through the frigid night air.
The two unlikely companions sat in silence. Neither wanted to initialize the conversation, but they knew it had to happen eventually.
It was Joren who impatiently began. "Why has he decided to pull up the roots and disappear?"
Liam smiled crookedly. There were many answers to that, but which would he give to Joren? He settled for an incomplete truth. "Damage control. Did you not hear the body count?"
"Was that city wide slaughter his doing?"
He shrugged ambiguously. "Not exactly." He paused, recalling an event from the past week. He offered Joren a false sense of security. "All you need to know is that we're leaving. And Tusaine, for once, is going to be without its vital powers."
After that sentence, they lapsed into another period of quiet. Liam rubbed his hands together, blowing hot air on his knuckles when he needed to. Joren could feel his lips becoming chapped and he pressed them together. The winter had definitely made its presence known. All creatures, wild and tame, had settled down for hibernation. Yes, even the beasts were too tired to fight.
Joren tucked his gloved hands into his jacket pockets and leaned his chest toward his knees. "Will he finally leave me alone?"
Liam Irons chuckled. "No. That's wishful thinking. Just enjoy the vacation while it lasts."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one with a million questions left unanswered."
"You're right. I'm not. I'm the one with a million qualities that just aren't good enough."
The anger behind those words was very apparent to Joren. It wasn't his business, but he couldn't understand what Enishi's lackey had to be upset about. "What are you saying?"
Liam tucked his hands under his upper arms, also leaning his chest toward his knees for warmth. He didn't meet Joren's eyes. His gaze fell on the ground between his feet. "It's like being the first runner up in everything you do. I'm not Father's Favorite Son, nor am the beloved boyfriend… I'm not the most dangerous bad ass. And I'm not the most mysterious character. I'm not even the one with the most psychological problems! You even beat me in that damn department, Stone."
"Fuck you. You can have that department. Be my friggin' guest," Joren snapped.
The two men glared at each other. Then, simultaneously, they stood and backed away from each other. Liam shrugged his shoulders again, muttering obscenities. He laughed. "There's nothing else that really needs to be said. You knew it all before."
Joren nodded. "Unfortunately."
"Farewell then, Stone."
"Good riddance, Irons." He waited until Liam turned his back on Joren. "By the way, Thom sends his greetings."
Liam stopped in his tracks. He faced him again, a darkly amused smile on his face. At that moment late that night, the snow began to fall. It fell in little flurries, becoming white dots in the air as it descended toward the mortal earth. They didn't seem to notice.
"Oh. So you're telling me he lived?"
Joren nodded again. "Unfortunately."
"Ah well. Life's full of disappointments. Good night, Stone. And best regards to Keladry, from both Mr. Yukishiro and myself."
The dark haired man left Joren there at the curb. The snow was coming down heavier than before. Joren brushed some of it from his shoulders. He even shook his head to scatter the white snowflakes. He stopped trying after a while. No matter what he did, he couldn't rid himself of it completely.
He got his bearings and began retracing his steps toward his motorcycle again. His old apartment above the general store was empty. There was no light in the window. As he walked away from that block, he didn't expect to see any other familiar lights reappear. Why should they? What was done was merely that: done.
A little nagging voice at the back of his mind told him to call Julia. He couldn't remember if he'd done so during the winter holiday, but it never hurt to do so again. The important thing was that whatever flame had been between them was long extinguished. Whatever spark of light that had been created from their unity had been stolen away.
As if on cue, the lamppost light finally died. Joren allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he trudged on, willful and determined to find his way home where a worried young woman would be waiting to forsake him and forgive him.
~~
Author's notes: Ta da! Season 2 is complete! I know I took incredibly long for a reasonably short episode (in my standards) but alas, lack of free time will do that to a person. Happy Holidays to all!
COMING NEXT: SEASON 2 BLOOPERS! STAY TUNED!