Thanks: Keita, Lady Sandrilene, clarylissa, IHL, Xelena, The Rain Child, Stacey,
Reagal Dreamer, A Strand of Golden Chocolate (is there something shorter I can
accredit you as? Like...ASOGC or something?), The Inkblot Faery (lol your name
reminds me of the Merry Gentry books...)

*sob* There's only six chapters left of Free Falling, followed by an epilogue. I'm
so sad! I really don't want to see Free Falling go, but if I drag it out any farther
than thirty chapters and an epilogue, it will start to get boring. Have you guys
also realized that since I put up that message I've released two chapters? Go
me! That's about a chapter a month though. I released 21 on March 23, 22 on
April 15, and 23 on May 5. Perhaps May will see more chapters?

**Chapter 24: Twenty-Six**

Queenscove Manor loomed ahead of them, still covered in snow like they had
left it. "Ah, home," Neal said nostalgically. "Why, when I was a boy..."

"Neal, don't." Kel tossed him a warning look. "Just...don't. You don't come off
reminscently. You just come off as a dumb ass."

"Gee, I love you too, Protector of the Small."

"Don't call me that, Meathead."

He pouted and continued riding as the castle grew larger in their field of vision.
"At least Jon let us take the summer off. Logically, he shouldn't have, but I guess
he thinks I value my time with my mother too much to be bothered with knightly
duties."

"You should," Kel reminded him. "That's what you told him."

"Oh yeah." The emerald-eyed man laughed embarrassedly and promptly hung
his head. Kel reached over and patted his shoulder.

They rode on for a few more minutes in the quiet, listening to the sounds of the
fief around them and Justice barking at birds from the saddle. Suddenly, Kel
said, "Isn't your birthday the week after next?"

After moving his lips in silent counting, Neal nodded. "Yes it is. The big twenty-
six. And sweet Mithros I'm still unmarried."

Kel arched an eyebrow at him. "I'll be twenty-one soon and I still haven't
married."

"I'm still five years older than you are," Neal replied. *Should I ask her to
marry me right now? No, that doesn't look particularly romantic. "Hey Kel,
want to get married to me? That's the other reason Mother called us here."
Yeah. She'll like THAT.*

"Need I remind you that you almost got married?" Kel asked.

"No, I remember quite clearly, thanks. Although, I'd prefer to forget that
period of my life," he sighed.

Kel pouted playfully at him. "You'd rather forget you fell in love with me?"

He laughed. "Nah, I love you and I'd never want to forget that. The part I
want to forget is the fact that for a long time I had no idea where you were and
what happened to you." The air tinged with sadness as he spoke. "I don't think
I have ever been that scared for anyone or anything, myself included, before."

Somewhere in her mind Kel knew she should say something back to him but she
couldn't come up with anything. However, she did know with firm certainty that
the gods had chosen for her to fall in love with Neal and for Neal to fall in love
with her. There was no question in her mind that she and Neal inveritably
belonged together.

"Your Grace!"

Neal looked up and saw someone on the hill just before the castle waving to
them.

"Your Grace!" the person--a man--called again.

Squinting, Neal struggled to make out the face of the man who called to him.
The voice sounded so familiar... "Ah! Vesiter!"

Vesiter, his father's--no, Neal's--steward.

"Your Grace!" Vesiter rode up to Neal and Kel, dismounted, and bowed. "Welcome
back to Queenscove, your Grace."

"I consider myself welcomed," Neal told Vesiter congenially. The man in front of him
was middle-aged and had served Baird for the past seven years. Vesiter Miller stood
taller than Neal by two inches, had brown hair graying at the temples, and the build
of someone who physically worked hard for a living. Although Neal hadn't known
Vesiter for very long, the young duke still liked him fairly well.

"Your mother told all of us that you would come," Vesiter continued. He finally seemed
to notice Kel a moment later. "And you must be the Protector of the Small." Vesiter
bowed. "I cannot tell you how honored Queenscove is to have a legend amongst us."

"I'm honored that you think so highly of me, but I'm a normal person. Honest," Kel
tried to explain.

"Nonsense," Vesiter assured her. He did rise though. "Come, your Grace, your
mother awaits."

"Unfortunately," Neal added.

"Quite so. These past few months since Baird passed on--may the Black God rest his
soul--have been terribly unbearable."

"Mother's quite the bear, isn't she?"

"Indeed she is. Quite like one awakened from hybernation and it's still winter."

"Well, it *is* still winter."

"True. Your arrival was certainly a blessing though, your Grace. Perhaps now your
mother won't dismiss your healers for no reason."

As they approached the castle gates, Neal could see a multi-colored bubble against
the white snow and gray stones of the castle. The closer they got, the image of his
mother became clearer in the multi-colored bubble. "Mother!" he shouted, urging
his horse ahead. The beast beneath him sloughed dutifully through the snow in a
hurry. "Mother, get back inside!"

"Is that any way to greet your mother?" she demanded.

"Is it any way to greet your son while you catch your death of a cold?" he retorted,
finally reaching her.

"Ludicrous," she scoffed. "I think you've gone mad. You can see as well as I can
that your ridiculous healers have me so wrapped in a heat bubble that it may as
well be summertime."

Neal sighed. "Mother, Mother, Mother. What am I to do with you?"

"Well, you can start by giving me a hug."

Smiling, Neal dismounted and obeyed.

"Have you asked that Kel to marry you yet?" his mother asked.

"No, but I do plan on it."

"Good. I want grandchildren, Nealan."

Kel and Vesiter caught up then. Neal's mother, named Amaris, released her son
and looked up at Kel. "...Good afternoon, Duchess Amaris," she said quietly under
the old woman's studious, intimidating gaze.

"Just Amaris is fine," she replied, tugging back her hair. "Oh, do get off of those
dreadful beasts and come inside. You two must have a frightful appetite."

"Food? I'm there!" Neal agreed enthusiastically.

Kel rolled her eyes. "All you have to say is 'food' and he'll follow you to the end
of the world."

Amaris smiled. "He hasn't changed."

***

Once inside and having eaten, Neal excused himself from the dining hall and set
to seemingly wandering aimlessly about the castle grounds, coming to a halt just
outside the Queenscove Family Mausoleum. With a quick glance around, Neal
descended into the catacombs and into the mausoleum. Immediately, his eyes
landed on the newest addition:

Baird of Queenscove
February 24, 386 - September 22, 462

"Hello, Father," he whispered, approaching the carved stone mounted on the
wall and tracing the letters with an unmittened hand. "Sorry I haven't had much
time to think of you lately, but I've had somewhat of a problem..."

Neal perched on a stone pedastal in the center of the mausoleum, tucking one
leg under his knee and letting the other foot dangle off the edge. Casting a
forlorn glance at the golden bracelet scintillating in the darkness, he groaned.
"You remember Joren of Stone Mountain?" he asked. "Well, it seems Joren
never really died. I don't know how, but he's alive. He's alive...and he wants
Kel." He squeezed his mittens in his hands. "But I'm going to marry her, Father.
I'm going to marry her and I'll...I'll protect her, even if it means my life." He
sighed. "Joren made me go on this mad journey for this Sword of Abscador, and
he already has this Scroll of Abscador. I don't have any idea what he wants to
do...I feel like I've fallen into a river with a strong current and the waterfall is right
ahead of me and all I can do is wait until I reach the edge. And...and I don't know
what the edge is, Father. I don't want to go over this edge, but at the same time...
falling Mithros knows how many feet into the waters below would be welcome at this
point. I don't know how much peace Kel and I have left, before we have to pick up
everything and get going again."

Suddenly, Neal's vision blurred. "I wish you were still here." His eyes burned as
looked up to the ceiling, hoping gravity would push back the tears. "I miss you.
I think I can honestly say I had no idea I would miss you this much." Neal slammed
his mittens down on the pedastal and buried his face in his hands. "I just wish I knew
what killed you!" he sobbed. "If it was Joren...so help me Goddess...I will hunt him
down and rip his entrails out, braid them, and use them to hang his lackeys."

Neal gathered both of his legs underneath him, resting his elbows on his knees, and
allowed himself a moment of weakness. Once he had his tears under control, he
dragged his sleeve across his blood-shot eyes and laughed bitterly. "Well, I didn't
mean to break down like this but I only ever felt comfortable doing it in front of you."

Something skittered across the stone floor, drawing Neal's attention. He looked up
and over his shoulder, making out the faint outline of someone standing in the
threshold.

"Kel..." he breathed.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I...I didn't mean to interrupt..."

As she turned to leave, Neal leaped from the pedastal and gathered her in a hug
from behind. "You didn't interrupt."

"Bullshit. Of course I did. Gods, why do you have to be so accomodating?" she
asked him.

"Why are you so upset?" he countered softly.

"I'm not upset." She jerked out of his hold. "I'll just come back a little later, all
right?"

"You are too upset. Normally you don't jerk out of my arms like that." He crossed
his arms and looked at her critically. "A...are you crying?"

"No!" she said sharply.

"Kel!" his answer was right on the heels of hers.

"*Joren*, Neal?!" Kel cried, her voice echoing down the hallway. "Joren!"

He took a step backwards. "You heard that?" he whispered.

"Yes! I did!" She turned away from him and added, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I can't..."

"Why not?"

Helplessly, Neal raised the wrist with the bracelet on it up and showed it to her. "I
can't because of this. I...can't even tell you how I got it or where or when or why.
I can't take it off, either."

"Does Merric know too?" Kel asked. "Does Merric know that Joren's alive?"

"I don't know," he replied as he shook his head. "It's not like I can ask."

"Can you really not break down comfortably in front of me? Even though I've been
your best friend for ten years and your lover for a few months?" she asked suddenly.

"Is that what this is about?" he murmured, looking her in the eyes. She gave a slight
nod and waited for the answer. "Yes. The only person I've ever truly broken down
in front of is my father. I never have gone screaming, tears streaming down my face,
shaking, collapsing...all of that in front of anyone but my father. I've never done it in
front of my mother, or any of my other relatives...Dom...you...my friends at Corus...
Yuki..."

Suddenly, Kel grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth onto hers. When she
let go, Neal felt dizzy. "I love you," she whispered. "More than anything."

"I love you too," he replied, somewhat confused by her behavior.

Kel bent and picked up whatever had clattered on the floor before, smiled at him, and
took off again. Still puzzled, Neal sat back down on the pedastal and looked at his
father's name. "I'm still wondering what her problem is."

***

Neal spent the next day in conference with Vesiter and various members of the
Queenscove fief. Kel mostly kept to herself, though Amaris sought her out on various
occasions to talk with her. On their third day in Queenscove, Amaris brought up the
fact that Neal's birthday was fast approaching to Kel, and together they conspired to
throw a surprise party for his twenty-sixth birthday.

On the fourth day in Queenscove, Neal and Vesiter announced that Lord Chessar from
Midnight Run, the next fief over, needed some help quelling the rebellion rising there.
Considering Lord Chessar was nine years old, Neal and Vesiter felt obliged to go.

That left Kel and Amaris enough time to organize the surprise party, knowing that
Neal wouldn't return until his birthday, or so he said.

Neal and Vesiter arrived in Midnight Run shortly after noon to find that most of the
villagers stood at the entrance of their town weilding pitchforks and torches like
they knew how to use them. Most of them wore angry faces--even the children who
crowded in between the legs of the adults. Warily, Neal and his steward exchanged
glances and began to try and push their way through.

However, one of the farmers jabbed the pitchfork at Vesiter's horse, causing the
beast to nearly throw his rider off.

Suddenly, several buckets of water were flung over the mob, causing them to shout
and disperse for a few moments, allowing Vesiter and Neal to ride through the streets
and up to the castle. "I don't know who did that," Neal commented, "but remind me to
find out and thank them."

"Will do, your Grace," Vesiter promised as they passed over the drawbridge and went
past the curtain wall. Quickly, the drawbridge snapped up behind them and archers at
the gatehouse threatened with the tips of their arrows portruding through the arrow
loops. From atop of the inner curtain wall, someone poked their head through one of
the crenels of the wall and looked down at Vesiter and Neal.

"Who goes there?" he shouted.

Vesiter announced them. "Sir Duke Nealan of Queenscove, sir! And I am his
steward, Vesiter Miller. Your lord, Lord Chessar, summoned us."

The figure nodded and waved to someone on the other side of the inner curtain wall,
presumably those who operated the portcullis firmly sitting in the ground in front of
them. Within moments, the portcullis began to rise, allowing them entrance into the
bailey. Vesiter and Neal ducked in quickly, finding themselves approached by a pair
of humble hostlers who offered to take their horses and stable them for the two visiters.

"Of course," Neal told them, handing over the reins of his horse. His steward followed
suit. Neal looked around for a moment, surveying the castle. It didn't seem as large
as many of the castles he had stayed in or visited, but it seemed large enough to hold
the villagers should someone attempt a seige. Someone descending the stairs to his
left caught his attention. "Hello," he greeted the man.

"Good afternoon," replied the man. He was the same man who had asked for their
identifications. "Good afternoon, your Grace," he corrected himself, giving a short
bow. "And to you too, Master Vesiter."

Vesiter and Neal both nodded, but it was Vesiter who spoke again. "What may we call
you?"

"Grevans," he answered.

"Master Grevans then," Neal decided. "Where might we find Lord Chessar?"

"I'll fetch him." Grevans fled to the keep and returned a few moments later with a
young man in tow. The boy didn't even look nine years of age--he was short, about
waist-high on Grevans, who was no giant, and had blond hair only spoken of in tales
about princesses who married their true loves and ruled a kingdom of peace. In fact,
it was so blond it looked almost white, and he had deep, sapphire eyes shaded by his
brow. He looked a little round in the belly and had fair skin only slightly bronzed by
the sun. Today, the young lord wore a sapphire-tinged heat spell wrapped tightly
around him. When Grevans finally brought the boy to them, he said, "Your Grace,
Master Vesiter, allow me to present Lord Chessar of Midnight Run."

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Chessar. I'm Duke Nealan, but you can call me Neal.
This is Vesiter, my steward," Neal introduced himself and Vesiter. The little boy nodded,
his heat spell shifting as he did. "May we move this meeting inside?"

Lord Chessar nodded again, tugged on Grevans's sleeve, and led the three of them
inside and into a conference chamber.

"Doesn't talk much, does he?" Neal whispered to Vesiter.

"It doesn't appear so," Vesiter agreed. "I wonder why?"

"I wonder what happened to his parents," Neal countered.

"Thank you for coming, Neal, Vesiter," Lord Chessar said, once they had been seated in
the conference chamber. "I had Grevans write to you and ask for your...your..."

"Assistance," Grevans suggested.

Chessar nodded. "Assistance in keeping order in Midnight Run. I app...apprec..."

"Appreciate," Grevans murmured.

"Appreciate your coming here." His cheeks flushed, knowing that he had just
stumbled embarrassingly over his appreciation speech.

Neal nodded. "You're very welcome. I understand your people are trying to rebel?"

Chessar looked at Grevans, then up at Neal, and nodded. "Yes, that's what Grevans
wrote I think. Will you help us?"

"Of course," Neal waved it off. "Now, let's decide what to do..."

***

In the end, Neal ended up promising the people of Midnight Run that Queenscove
would sponsor sending Chessar to Corus the next year and named Grevans the
steward of the fief. Grevans would consult Vesiter or Neal on matters concerning
the fief and, once deciding upon a solution, would send a letter to Chessar in Corus,
where the young noble had the ability to accept (or reject, but not without the consent
of one of the other Tortallan nobles at court) whatever had been previously decided.

That seemed to calm most of the villagers of Midnight Run. Those who found
themselves dissatisfied had the option of leaving the fief and migrating to Queenscove,
but other than that, they were to stay in Midnight Run. After all, they owed their
allegiance to the small lord.

Lord Chessar thanked them heartily as they left, called out a "Happy Birthday!" to
Neal, and ducked back inside the castle.

Neal and Vesiter arrived in Queenscove the morning of Neal's birthday.

Not surprisingly, Kel met them at the castle gate, but she told them to let the hostlers
take their horses. She allowed Vesiter into the building but made Neal stay out in the
snow with her.

"What gives, Kel? Why won't you let me inside?" he questioned.

She kissed him and said, "You'll see."

A few minutes later, Justice came out of the keep with a big pink bow tied around her
neck. She jumped on Neal's leg and begged for a thorough ear-scratching, then
finally Kel allowed him to go inside.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" chorused everyone who lived on the castle grounds, including
his mother, Kel, and Vesiter.

Neal grinned. "Thanks, everyone."

Gifts sat on a table in the ballroom, colorfully wrapped in decorated paper, and food
had been arranged on a table pushed up against a wall. Tables dotted hall of the
ballroom floor, and a small group of instrument players found themselves situated on
a platform. The other half of the ballroom floor had been left clear, open for anyone
who wanted to dance, including the servants.

But first, Neal opened his gifts.

The first he chose to open was from Roald in Corus. He had sent Neal a leather-
bound, ratty little book entitled, "Leadership: The Who, What, When, Where, How."
Neal groaned and set it aside, wondering if it was the prince's idea of a joke. The
next one he opened up was from Alanna. It was an empty jar with a blue ribbon
tied around the neck. Confused, Neal read the note attached to the lid. "'Neal--
this jar is spelled. Place a little bit of Gift fire in here and you can contact anyone
with the Gift instantly, no matter where you are.' Well, that's helpful."

The gifts went on, mostly from his relatives and friends at Corus. However, he
opened his mother's gift halfway, turned beet red, and hurriedly tried to burry it
under the scraps of paper. "Mother!" he managed to choke out.

Amaris just smiled. "What?"

Curious, Kel peeked under the scraps of paper and at the halfway opened gift. She,
too, turned red and looked at Amaris, aghast.

"I told you I want grandchildren," was all Amaris had to say.