Disclaimer: Do I look like Tamora Pierce?!? Okay, that was a stupid question, you wouldn't exactly know, and I don't know what she looks like, either, but I personally am thirteen, five foot six, solidly built, with very large feet, gray eyes, and light gold-brown hair. I don't think I'm able to have published something before I was born.

A Sudden Realization

"En garde," he said, softly, his sword pointed at me, and we began.

Dueling at this level is odd, a strange, wild dance of death between two dancers, and beyond them, the world does not exist. You have to keep your focus carefully, never allow yourself to be distracted, never gaze away. You must always regard the other dueler with an aristocratic sneer as you go about your work, no matter who they are: an enemy or a lover, or any number of degrees in between. It does not matter if you do not intend to kill, it is still death that you are playing with, with your shiny metal swords, still death that you are tampering with, still the Black God you are provoking.

Our swords met with a fierce clash, and the dance began.

We have very different styles, Joren of Stone Mountain and I. He is very controlled, very deliberate, very planned, a rather undaring duelist who wins by attrition, whilst I merely flail about flamboyantly, depending greatly upon by ability to catch people off edge. Our fighting was a training master's dream: proof that we did not all have to fight the same way, for I could remember vividly being twelve years old and listening to Lord Wyldon rant about our lack of initiative regarding the sword. I never had that problem, I loved it from the beginning. From the first time I picked up a sword, there was little else, even glaives did not hold their charm for me anymore.

I pulled back, switching the sword over to my left hand, and attempted to force his out of his iron grasp. It did not work, I pretended to have feinted, and attempted to switch sides once more. He leaned forward, his sword smacked mine, not to unbalance, only to psyche out. Not exactly what you would refer to as fair play, but then again, what swordsman, or woman, has ever played fair?

We fought hard, will clashing as swords did. Neither of us would ever admit to defeat, I could see that clearly, without the slightest trouble. We were both to proud, the only hope of someday ending this would be a mutual surrender, for neither of us would make a mistake.

I, deciding in favor of the grand tradition of 'it's-not-being-unscrupulous-it's-just-having-no-scruples', dove to the side, diving into the ground, clearly confusing the hell out of Joren. Hello? This is a duel, Mindelan! Not a ballet class! I could imagine the Stump saying, as he had said so many times before, but I liked my moves. They were fun.

He tried to get me in the kill position, but I was too fast, rolling over onto the side, and springing up to the side where his back was.

"Stone Mountain," I sang lightly, and as he ever so quickly turned, I again switched the hand I used for the sword. So glad I'm double handed, makes it so much easier. I tried what I privately called 'the scythe' move: an odd, backhanded whack at another person's stomach, but he blocked that, and countered with what I regarded as his trademark move, a feinted slice turned into a jab.

Good one, Jor, I thought, credit where credit's due. I do need to make you teach me that one.

I jumped to the side, aware that the jab would have gone through my ribs, not child's play anymore. You two are adults, not ten and twelve years old, bickering childishly. You can kill each other. I don't think he'd want to kill you, he's fond of you whether you like it or not, but be careful, said this little voice in the back of my head. Quiet.

Our swords wound up meeting in the crossed position once more, and suddenly, it was over.

Joren dropped his sword. "You've gotten better," he said conversationally, as if five seconds earlier he hadn't been trying to stab my heart out. "A lot better, you're pretty good. A little uneven sometimes, trying stuff you can't properly do, but you're pretty good."

I smiled at him. "Thanks, you too. You're kinda conformist, though, very into the whole 'wear-them-down' theory, aren't you? I wouldn't have thought so."

He blushed slightly—what did I say?—and then dismissing that valiantly, gave me an arrogant grin.

"I won."

"What the hell?" I said, defensively. Damn, he's provoked me. Again. How come he can always do that at the flip of a hat? "You did not!"

"Yes, I did," he insisted. "You're just being thick, refusing to realize it."

"What! Stone Mountain, you are the most utter—"

He smiled impishly at me, showing white teeth, and waggling his fingers, ran off.

I didn't bother to try and catch up with him. I didn't want to. All I wanted at the moment was a little quiet time to meditate upon my style of fighting, think of improving it. I wanted to beat him, and I didn't know why. It shouldn't have been that important to me, and it was.

Such is life, I guess…………

~*~

I arrived at the opium den about half an hour later. Joren was already there, playing chess with Ryer. He gave me a friendly nod, she winked conspiriatorly. Why would she……… The thought struck me, and I dismissed it horrified from my mind. That is the most appalling idea—

I went straight into my room and changed into a soft white shift, no dress, a little robe over it. I didn't want to wear my see-through night gown in front of everyone in the inn-den-bar place, because I was going to return for something to drink in an hour or two, and this seemed rather normal. I looked into the mirror briefly, pleased with what I saw.

I wasn't kidding when I said I looked innocent, I thought, I really do, especially in white. Very pretty, too. I might even qualify as beautiful, under the right lighting.

I reached into my trunk and picked out a book, whereupon I settled myself on my bed for an hour or so, enthralled once more into the world of knights fifteen hundred years ago.

~*~

I walked outside for a glass of fruit juice, about one o'clock. I am an insomniac, I decided wryly, looking out in surprise at all of the people still there, but then again, so is every one else in this place!

Ryer, who I had decided recently really was a sweetheart, underneath it all, had her eyes half shut, and she was leaning back in her chair, listening to the music played by the pianist. She had the dreamiest expression on her face, a sort of far off ness, a serenity I had never seen her with. Maybe music is her key.

But where was Joren?

I found him as soon as I had completed that thought, for he was standing at the bar, talking animatedly with the barkeeper. He was being rather lively, but not conspicuously so; I didn't think he was drunk. A little tipsy, judging from the slight color in his aristocratically pale cheeks, but not drunk.

I leaned against the wall, gazing at him. I tensed up, suddenly, and found my way to a chair, where I put my face into my hands. My mouth was slightly open, and I do not think that I had breathed since the last short gasp of breath. I forced myself to put some air into my lungs. I was startled, my heavy breathing hurt. Finally I let go, and sat back up, in rather bad posture, still looking down at my feet, not permitting myself to look up.

"Don't," I whispered softly, "don't you dare."

The nearby inhabitants ignored me, and I ignored them. Clenching up my fists, I took in a ragged, uneven breath, thinking about green tea, and pink elephants, all sort of random things to distract my mind, and none of them worked. I sat up perfectly straight, and allowed myself, finally, to reflect upon what I had just said to myself, which I knew in my heart to be true.

Dear Goddess, I think that I am in love with Joren of Stone Mountain.

Thank yous: I'm really sorry, it's going to take about ten hours to say thank you separately, you all are permitted to whack me very hard with the nearest sharp pointy object, but I have to write this before midnight cos I have to get to bed early, so all I can do is your names, and I'm really, really sorry, cos I like it when authors do the whole thank everybody thing, so I'm groveling myself, but here are the names of everyone I'd like to thank, there'll be some extra, or some missing, sorry: Wildmage Fina d'Avaera, The Dark Goddess, cytosine, Queenofilangees, aric (!!!! New person!!!!!), Regen (YAY!!!!!!!! NEW!!!!!!!!!), Chaos (YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HA HA HA!!!!!!!), hawaiikel (MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! THRILLED!!!!!!) Arabella Silverbell (POSSIBLY NEW DON"T KNOW, TERRIFIC IF, TERRIFIC NOT), Blade Griffin, Anne (? Not sure about this one, maybe), silverhair, Channing Senora Cabellaro (fabulous name),HShuler888 (yeah, learned about that, fell in love with my friend's shrine of kurt cobain, she's making everyone fall in love with him), Night-'n'-Day, The Dark Goddess, cytosine, Angel Of The Storms, Evilstrawberry, Lady Sandrilene (I'm sorry, I'll do it soon, I keep forgetting), Stacey.