Disillusionment

by xoraxox

They're under no illusions that they're fond of each other, but maybe that's not important anymore. Almost certainly abandoned. Joren x Kel

1. Disillusioned

Disclaimer: I am not Tamora Pierce. I wish I was, but I am currently, totally broke, and this is my first fan-fic ever, so review!!.

 2nd Disclaimer: I am not Tamora Pierce. I am a broke almost-thirteen-year-old girl from Texas. Tell me, wouldn't being

Tamora require me writing before I was born? 3rd Disclaimer: Not Tamora Pierce. Not that old. Not yet. Not quite. Not

by a far bit.

Disillusionment

arimel

PART ONE

Disillusionment

Have you ever been so disillusioned with the world around you that you simply stopped thinking? That you

stopped looking, stopping dreaming, stopped living.  That you dulled, your sparkling eyes disappearing,

 that you  lost your hope, your dreams, yourself? I have. A long time ago. A long, long time ago, in fact;

I can barely remember I time unlike the time now, and it's only been five years. I can  only know that

I was someone different by a vague sense of loss, of sorrow,

 one I do not care to explore often..  And the funny thing is, no one ever noticed, not when I was saddest,

 not when I was coldest, not even Neal . . . . . . and him supposedly my closest friend. . . . . . . . . friend?

. . . . . . . have I ever had friends?. . . . . . . .

"What's with you, Mindelan?" he asked, one perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. "Seriously. Sulking around 'cuz

your boyfriend's finally found a girl he likes?" Joren of Stone Mountain smiled sweetly, leaning against the

 door of my bedroom, he looked inquisitively at me, mockingly. "Can you spell pathetic."

I smiled in reply. "Joren, darling."

He looked at me calmly, ever the ice prince. "Yes?" he inquired, arching his back to stretch his arms.

"Get a life, Stone Mountain." I said, exhausted of dueling with him, not willing to bait him, just

wanting to get it over with quickly so I could fall asleep. "Shut up. Get a clue. Neal isn't my boyfriend, moron.

 Better yet, forget getting a clue, heck with that, why don't you just get the hell out of my room? What're you doing in here,

anyway?"

Joren smiled again. His beautiful face was like ice. He smirked, showing perfect even white teeth. "Annoying you,"

 he said, in a reasonable tone of voice, as if talking to a small child who needed to be told how life worked, as if that

was thoroughly ordinary, which indeed, it was, "what does it look like?"

My mouth dropped open in disbelieving annoyance. "You little-"

He looked at me, same expression, although with a slight twisted sneer. "Ta-ta for now, Mindelan," he said mock-sorrowfully,

 throwing his arms out in an expression of melodramatica. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, but I'm afraid—terribly sorry, I must

apologize--I have an appointment. At the perfumery. I really must dash. The scent I wear is just not, not, not, feminine enough,

 sorry, I was searching for the proper word, at least not for the court these days. What is the world coming to. . . . ."

Jerk, I thought, smiling in reply, blowing a sarcastic kiss at him and slamming the door in his face. Seriously.

Someone should whack him really hard on the head. I'd cry at his funeral, I think. Just a little bit, even. I wonder

 how much assassins cost these days? And the sad part is, that wasn't a joke. I don't think it was a joke. . . . .

I turned to my bedroom mirror and scrutinized myself, carefully. I would never be beautiful, not in the classical

sense of the word. I was too tall, a bit too thin, not enough chest. But I was pretty, and anyone who said that

I wasn't would be lying. My hair had curled a bit as I grew older, so I was now covered in long, softly curling

 waves over my shoulders, my eyes wider-lashed, my skin smoother and ivory. I looked sweet and charming,

 like an absolute innocent. Naïve, I thought, Naïve and sweet as anything.

Mithros. Dinner's in half an hour. I have to be all nice and perky. Joy. Rah. Rah rah sis coom ba, go. . . . . . .

 . . . . ME! I'm going to start skipping soon. You'd think they'd get the point eventually. Are they morons,

or just stupid? It can't be that hard to notice that—oh my gosh—Kel isn't exactly ma'amselle

light and airy and fluffy. Perhaps she has problems of her own? Never.

But then again, perhaps that would not be a good idea. They've never seen me anything other than

 happy. Hell, I don't think they've ever even seen me, the way I really am. That's probably good,

though. I think I prefer my life outside of a mental ward, thank you very much.

I have never been sweet, never been charming, never been happy. Surprised? I've always been a good liar, and I've

always had a habit of holding conversations with myself in my head. Schizophrenic? No, that's hearing voices.

Multiple personality, perhaps. Something's wrong with that, I can tell you. Fifteen year old girls do not do that,

even if they are girls like me.

Girls like me?. . . . . what sort of a girl was I?

I washed my face and wondered just when it had all started. When had I stopped being the bright girl I once was?  It was a

long time ago, starting in the Yamani Islands, maybe, I thought, when I'd been the hulking, monstrous foreigner. Ouch.

That had hurt. I'm a little sensitive about my height, at least, part of the time. I'm five foot eleven, taller than a lot of the boys

 for heaven's sake. But it couldn't have been that. That didn't hurt me until later, until now. Then in a flash, I knew.

. . . . . . . . .I was at Mindelan again, listening to my sisters and sisters-in-law discussing my potential beauty. None,

they said, none at all, best if we can get rid of her now, a knight might actually be a good option, who knows, she

might become a hero, and she'll know the knights well, get us husbands? possibly herself one, too, and I recalled crying

later that night, not because I wanted to be a lady, but because I was ten years old, ten years old for Mithros sake!,

 okay, and when you're ten, you want everyone's approval and love and caring, and besides, I wanted desperately to

 someday be pretty. . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . .I listened to Joren and Garvey and Vinson, idiots, all of them, cracking jokes about me and my "friends."

Mean ones, not true ones, not at all. It was funny, how no one could see how I was using them, no one at all, sometimes,

 I thought, not even myself. It was easy to relax, to pretend I was close to them. But I couldn't let that happen, couldn't

 let them get close, I couldn't, I couldn't. I couldn't. . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . .Go home, they said. Not proper, they said. Unladylike. Like I cared about unladylike. But slowly, surely

, it was being burned into my brain, and I couldn't get it out. No, can't get it out, and I'm trying, oh Goddess,

I swear, I'm trying. . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . .I'm lost in my own mind, and I can't get out, a maze, a horrifying, endless, terrifying maze, and I'm trapped,

 I'm  trapped, I'm trapped. I can't get out of the maze, can't get out of the maze, can't get out of the maze,

can't get out. Trapped. . . . . . . .

There must be something wrong with me, I thought, grimacing into the mirror. I shouldn't be this insecure. I'm

 the Yamani Lump, remember? Mademoiselle What-happens-happens-there's-no-use-crying-about-it-tough- girl.

 Well I'm not, I guess. I don't think I am, anyway. But if I'm not, then. . . . who am I?

Dinner, I thought, tiredly, drooping forward. My bones ached. I felt old, old beyond my years, older

than I wanted to be. Neal and Cleon and Faleron and Owen. . . Merric and Seaver. . . Roald. . . . . .

How'm I supposed to be all cheerful and everything?

Oh yes, cheerful, same as I always am.

"Joy," I whispered aloud, gazing at myself in the mirror for a brief moment, a sardonic expression on my face.

 "Yet another opportunity for me to practice my lying skills. Wonderful."

I got dressed quickly in a pale blue dress and walked out of the door, changing everything about me from the girl who'd

spoke with herself in the mirror to the Keladry of Mindelan that everyone knew. From the dark person I was inside to the

light one I pretended to be. And yes, I have a taste of irony: I incorporated a little skip into my walk.

"Hey, Kel!" Cleon called blushing slightly. That boy has the worst crush on me. It's really pathetic. He should get over it,

you know, fall for a real girl. Lady Delka? She's a possibility. A simpering imbecile, but the sort of girl that Cleon might

like. . . . . and if I set her up with him, guess who's out of my hair?. . . . hmm, marvelous idea, Kel, must congratulate myself. . . .

"Over here!"

I grinned at him, laughing in a rather breathless voice. "Hey, world!  What's happened since I left you last? Blown anything up yet?

 Killed the Stump? Neal, anymore love letters?" Neal blushed. "Argh!" I said, using my phrase for—ooh, c'mon, tell. Very easy to use.

Just roll your tongue a bit when you say it, and look at the person flirtatiously.

I sat down next to Merric, smiled at him, he blushed—what is up with these guys and blushing? Seriously.—and accepted a platter

of rice from Owen.

"Thanks," I said, and we began to chat in earnest.

I wouldn't know until later, not until much later, but Joren of Stone Mountain had watched me almost cry, through the window

behind my room. He was watching me that night, that night when I was as charming as ever if not more. I overdo it, whenever

 I feel worst.

 And he knew.

 

Caught in the Act

"Adalia!" I called, rushing to greet my sisters in the new, fashionable, Carthaki manner: a kiss on both cheeks. "Oranie!

 I adore your earrings, Addie. Marvelous. Wherever did you get them? And Oranie, that gown. . . . . ooh! I want to steal

it from you right now. Well?"

I smiled at them, showing the precise amount of pearly white teeth necessary to seem as sweet as possible. I hadn't seen anyone

 particularly annoying since Wednesday, when I'd gotten into a bit of a wrestling match with Joren of Stone Mountain—ended with

me winning, but he'd pinned me a couple times—so  I was in a reasonably good mood, at least for me: rather more realism in

my lying. I had not seen my two sisters since I was nine years old, as they prepared to go to the convent, and I was sure that they

 were startled by the young lady, if soon to be lady knight, that they met.

"Keladry!" one of my sisters squealed. "I haven't seen you in ages. You're so pretty now! So tell me, how's all this been treating you?"

Oranie asked. Oh, yeah, that's why I hadn't liked her. She would never shut up. Remember, Kel darling?  Never ever.

Adalia laughed. She'd been the mean one, the rather snake-like one, and the less pretty one, although more flirtatious, but it looked

like she'd grown up, just a little. "Probably perfectly, right, Kel? I'd imagine so. You always were such a tomboy." Okay, so she definitely

hasn't. I lied.

"Oh, it's been marvelous. Really," I said lightly. "It's actually fun, although perhaps I have an odd sense of high jinx." I giggled. It was

disgusting. "It's not as if we are allowed to do much of anything, after all, so I don't exactly have a basis for comparison. You did

 hear that Lord Raoul, of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, is my knightmaster, correct? Isn't that fabulous?"

"Of course! And it's your first midwinter back, isn't it?" Oranie asked. "Show us around," she ordered. "Or better yet, find

a handsome young man to show us around. I wouldn't suppose you'd happen to have any spare ones?"

"Like she'd have any to spare," Adalia laughed, nastily. " You always had all your boys around, Keladry, never were

willing to share, even when you were little. I knew you'd be a heartbreaker. Looks like I'm right." Okay, so I was wrong

 on that count, too. She wasn't being evil. Well, not thoroughly.

"I'm shocked, Addie, that you'd even think of such a thing, and I'm truly hurt, Ranie. You don't want my company? Handsome

young men, handsome young men, handsome young men. . . . geez, got to get more handsome young men around here, oh, wait! There's one.

 Zakar!" I called to a handsome young man, Zakaria of North Ridge Bay, a handsome, charming court parasite who I'd cultivated a working

 deal with. "Get over here! Would you and your friends care to show my sisters about? Adalia and Oranie of Mindelan, Zakaria of North Ridge Bay."

Zakar grinned, ever the charmer, and bowed, kissing Adalia's hand. Another young man smiled at Oranie and introduced

himself. They went bounding off, laughing and giggling, already friends. There are some pluses to loaning

 money every once in a while. I'd helped Zakar bail himself out of prison once, when he'd been drunk.

 He was just a typical court dandy, not much more, but with a little more charm and a little less cash.

No more sisters! Hurrah! Hurrah! They've gotten even more feather- brained since I last saw them, if that's possible,

 although some of the things that they said were rather clever. Maximum compliment. That's why I would sooo not

 have fit in in convent school. Beauty and charm required. Intelligence, not necessary.

Free! I exultated to myself. I was in one of my better moods that day, although it may have been a

result of the sugar I'd had that morning. I'm going to avoid the world, and sit down, with a nice, fluffy

 book. I wonder where that romance novel Lalasa was talking about was? I think she's trying to

improve my sense of color. She left it with me, I'm sure, but where-ouch! What the f--!

Joren of Stone Mountain and I tumbled to the stone floor. "Look where the hell you're going!" I snapped,

 realizing after I'd spoken that I'd ran into him. Well, too late now. Not my fault.  "Are you always this graceful,

or was your nose just too high up for you to notice anything?"

Joren sneered. "Well, well, well. Hasn't the little girl grown up. So sweet. She finally learned how

to talk to people without Lump-ing. I'm touched, sweetheart, that I am the first to know."

I smirked at him. This boy-man, man, Joren definitely is  a man, an annoying, beautiful, demon

 from Hell, but still, a man-was so difficult to ruffle. "Aren't we feeling clever today. I'm afraid I

simply must dash, though, darling. I have an appointment with my manicurist. By the way, sweetie,

I love your hair. Where do you get it cut? It's so my sisters. Very feminine. I congratulate you."

Joren flushed, very slightly, furious. "I AM NOT GAY!" he hissed, glaring at me. I smiled.

"That's. . . . .  nice. . . . .  to know, Stone Mountain. If you were, many poor, suffering ladies would be. . . 

sobbing. . . . right now. I must depart, my love, dreadfully sorry. Our conversation was thrilling. We must do

this some other time," I replied.

"Yes," a deep voice replied. "Away from here."

I couldn't see him; my back was to him. Wyldon, Joren mouthed. I glowered at him, and used my index finger to draw a

 line across my throat. He choked from laughter, pretending to cough.

The Stump. Just fabulous. Great. Wondrous, and all that. What do I get to do THIS time, I wonder.

Seriously, who said that the training master could punish squires? I need to figure out who did it.

If they're alive, they'll die, and if they aren't. . . . . heh heh heh. Yay. Just yay.

"This is not the sort of behavior I expect from the two of you," Lord Wyldon intoned in a monotone.

 Another bloody lecture. Joren shot a quick glance at me, wrinkled his nose, and then stood to straight attention at Wyldon.

I was convulsing with laughter. The training master gave me a disapproving look.

"I have seen this from the two of you much too often. It is improper behavior for two squires, emissaries of His

Majesty; It will stop now. In the crown room, tonight, at half past eight. His Majesty, Numair Salmalin, and I wish

 to discuss something with you. I doubt it will be to your liking, but it must be done."

And The Other Hand Drops

At half-past eight the next night I didn't show. I was in my room, in my night gown, painting my nails the

color of red wine and thinking about how much I hated the entire world. At about 9:45 Lord Wyldon

appeared in my room, and frowning with gross displeasure, dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the

crown room. A few heads did pop out of the doors, and Wyldon gave them the death-glare. Not literally,

 but I do believe that dignity is a highly overrated virtue, and did not bother to hide my displeasure.

"Why, hello, Keladry," Numair Salmalin said pleasantly, after I'd almost managed to connect my fist with

Joren's jaw after he made a smart-assed remark about my pajamas, and my figure within, "how are you today?"

"Wish I could say I was wonderful, sir," I said mock-wistfully, "but sadly I'm not. I suppose that's how

 life is, though. Win some, lose some. And you?"

Joren made this little cough that sounded like –cough--"flirt"—cough—but I ignored him, deciding instead to focus on King

Jonathan III. Wyldon was a lost cause, and I already had Numair won over to my side. I liked Daine, and he knew that, and by

extension, liked me.

"Your majesty," I began diplomatically, "It is true, we have agreed, that- "and Joren cut in.

"Keladry and I need to learn how to work out our differences," Joren interrupted blandly. "I apologize

to my King, for my conduct,  milord, for the same, and to Mindelan, for existing, as that seems to bother her, but I do not see why-"

"Oh, shut up, you little-" I snapped, forgetting where we were.

"Why don't you? You are such an idiot, Mindelan, you just wreaked whatever bloody chance we had

of getting out of this thing-"

"I WREAKED IT? What about you, with that little "I apologize to Mindelan for existing" comment? Hello?

 Earth to Joren. Joren, come in. Come in, Joren."

"Silence," his majesty said commandingly, and surprisingly enough, considering our current track record,

Joren and I actually stopped bickering long enough to turn and give the glare of death at him.

"WHAT?" we said belligerently at the same time, before we turned to glower at each other. I don't like talking

at the same time he does. It's kind of scary.

"I see your problem," Numair said sympathetically to the Stump. "They must be an awful handful."

"Handful nothing!" Wyldon replied. "I have had to listen to their petty little arguments for forever. I don't

 want to hear another bloody thing out of them!"

Yay. Now my training master has revealed his hatred for me. Time to start jumping up and down, Mindelan.

Hardly surprising. If he didn't by now, well, we've just proved that he isn't human.

"Sir, calm down. So we don't like each other," I informed him, "it's not the end of the world."

He glared at me, and growled, "It's gonna be."

"Terrifying," Joren said, sotto voce, to me. Lord Wyldon heard him.

"Enough."

"Agreed," replied King Jon, who I was starting to regard as an absolute push-over. Thayet was kinda

a ditz, but at least she had her own opinions. He didn't have any.

Numair nodded. "Perhaps."

"Well? Will you?" the Stump inquired.

He sighed. "I didn't want to, and I still don't. Daine likes Keladry, and finds Stone Mountain to be a

charming, if reckless young man. I do suppose that we have no choice, though."

"Shut up and get on with it," Joren snapped. "Some people enjoy that pleasant thing known as sleep."

"Not that I don't think killing him might be the best way to go," confided Numair in a stage whisper.

I smiled at him. Way to go, Nummie!

"Decided," Jonathan said in a stout tone, "we're sending them off to Scanra."

Thank yous to:

Thank yous to: Larzdinn: thanx!!! Btw, I love your name.

 Daydreamer: thaz cool, happens with me sometimes, too. That's why I shoved it in.

 Nice Day: breathe!!!!!!! In and out, in and out. Meditate. Clear your mind of thoughts.

 Thanx, don't worry, I will.

Keita: !(!

DeadlyBlackRose: yay! I'm a sucker for people saying that they luv my stuff.

The Dark Goddess: Thank u! 2 reviews from u! (smiles benevolently as she starts a

religion for people who review more than once (though 1 timers are good as well)

The Blind Assassin: thank you. I read your story & it's really good.

 Just ta let ya know.

Siren Porter: read yours too. It's interesting how u did a double romance. Thanx!

Camisole:I'll review urs. Actually, yeah, I was thinking that kel and joren

aren't likely to get all fluffy. Romantic, yes, but oh- my-god-I-love-u-so-much no. thank you!

Free2bMe: Thank ya! &that's it.

Faithful and Jishoshojo!!!! You two are the best!!!!! This is the first fan fic I ever did on this,

and I thought that I wasn't going to get any reviews at all. I'm so glad y'all like it, and yes,

Faithful, there will be Joren in it. I wonder if I should put that in my summary, considering

how many people want to marry the dude.

BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Adjusting la tale fairie! Haha! I'm bored, can u tell?

theahri