A/N: I'm almost up to 50 reviews O.O I never IMAGINED this story would be so popular!! ::gives all reviewers chocolate and cardboard Rick cutouts:: XD
miamouse: Yeah, that one'll probably be my shortest chapter...::giggle:: Some of your ideas may come through...she's definitely meeting Kel...and of course you can use it, I'm not claiming royalties to the idea or anything. ::grin:: Thanks!
emikae: Well, you'll see in this chapter ::evil laugh:: Thanks!
Fylz: ::giggle::
calemra: Whatever gave you that idea? ::innocent look::
Mage-Magic17: So sorry about that...glad you like it, though :D
elfin2: Glad to hear it. Hope you like this one, it was really fun to write...
pinky: I'm working to remedy the Mary Sue-age...haha, Sue-age, like sewage...::giggle:: Right, anyway...yes, he is a jerk, I wanted to smack him so hard this chapter 'round. Hope you like it!
Rubber Duck: Yay, no CC stuff! ::cheer:: Glad you like it, thanks!
blackflyer: Yeah, poor Meg...::pats her:: I'm trying to make her likeable, but not exactly strong at the same time...let me know if I succeed ::grin::
Lizai: Here y'are ::sheepish grin::
Ashlynn: ::giggle:: Yes ma'am, I'll do my best...
I'm SO sorry this chapter took so long...I've been grounded, which means I sneak on for about half an hour each day. I'm terribly sorry, guys, this means I really won't be good about updating...::sighs:: This chapter should sustain you for a while though ::grin:: MUCH THANKS (and extra Rick cutouts ::giggle::) for my Numair authority, Fyli...without her, you would never be able to picture Numy perfectly! Bwahaha! ::calms down::
Anyway...yup, here y'are, Chapter Seven! :D
:: Chapter Seven: Uproar at Court ::
It was the end of Meg's second week of page training; the pages were at dinner, causing mayhem and tumult and all the usual disturbance. Meg had still not gotten used enough to the other boys to sit with them, so she sat with Rick, answering his onslaught of questions with short, few-word replies. After two weeks, Meg still couldn't figure out how exactly that dratted boy managed to stay so cheerful and talkative after a day's hard training.
The two weeks of training hadn't made Meg tougher; if anything, she was even more exhausted. She'd never experienced such intense physical pain and exertion before in her life. Every day, Shang fighting bruised her, staff fighting tested the limits of her strength, archery left her wary of her magic, and riding left her sore. Academic classes left her going to bed with an exhausted brain.
And still, after two weeks, Meg hadn't attended a single magic class. Her excuses differed every day; she sometimes, timidly, tapped into her Gift to give herself an indisputed "illness". In the second week, Salma had continually given Meg a stern look whenever she crept into her room; a few days ago, she'd said, "You know, you can't run from it forever." Meg had ignored it; she knew she couldn't run from her Gift forever. She couldn't even say what it was, exactly, that made her run from it. Being a mage wasn't a bad thing...it just made her uneasy, even using her magic for little things. It made her feel as though she was cheating, using an unfair advantage. She wanted to be just like everyone else.
Still, even without her magic classes, Meg was exhausted. Her frail, delicate frame was collapsing under the amount of bruises and batterings it was recieving. Still, no matter how stiff or sore Meg woke up, she refused to see a healer; the pain would make her stronger, she firmly believed. The fact that it hadn't so far meant nothing.
Despite the physical pain and mental strain, however, Meg was happier than she'd been. Her entire life, her only companions had been her mare, her father, and her servants; her only friend, the only person who understood her, was her brother Faleron. Here, though, she'd met Rick - who, despite the fact that his personality was the complete opposite of Meg's, was the best friend she'd ever had. He'd taken her fury with him (over the business of the stables their first day) in stride and, fortunately, not given her any more cause to yell at him. His kindness and caring made her willing to talk to him and his craziness was her link to the real world.
Meg didn't find it odd at all that she didn't have many other friends. Adair was always kind to her, giving her pointers when he could; Tier was civil as well, and Rick told Meg that he would probably give her another week or so before he judged Meg as a decent person. "Giving you too much credit, if you ask me," Rick had said coolly, then ducked as Meg reached for a book. None of the first years talked to her yet; Idren sometimes smiled at her shyly, but never said a word. And none of the third years, save Adair, as well as the two second-years Meg didn't know so well never said anything to her, or even acknowledged her presence. Regan still gave her looks that made her want to crawl under a rock and die, but to her relief, he hadn't done anything. Yet.
Being ignored or mistreated was something Meg was used to. She knew she was an unusual prescence in the boys' lives; she'd give them time to get used to her, because she wasn't planning to leave.
However, things didn't go as planned.
Rick was relating to Meg a story of how Blair and Adair switched places at the beginning of their second year and caused mass confusion, making her snort with laughter into her potatoes, when the doors of the mess hall burst open with a crash.
Everyone turned, surprised, wondering what could have caused such a crash. Being short, Meg couldn't see who had entered; but by the sudden, shocked silence and the muted, anxious whispers that filled the mess hall, she could tell it was someone big, unexpected.
Meg bit her lip, trying to see over the sea of heads and completely missing the anxious look Rick shot her. Almost as if planned, the boys parted just enough for Meg to raise her head and meet Sir Elris's furious eyes.
The silence had settled in fully, enough for Meg's yelp of terror to be heard as she shot to her feet.
Elris bared his teeth when he saw his daughter and took a few steps forward. "You..." His voice was low, his eyes not leaving his daughter's.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on either father or daughter. Meg couldn't help but notice her father was impeccably dressed, though his eyes were angry and red - he'd most likely ridden all night and day to get to Corus on time. She wildly wondered why Faleron wasn't there, then remembered he was a knight; he went wherever the Crown sent him.
Elris advanced a few more steps. His jaw was set, his posture strong, his eyes fiery; Meg could feel herself falter. Her knees grew weak and she felt faint; Rick had edged over to his friends' table, explaining in a low voice who this man was.
"How dare you," Elris growled, his fists clenching and unclenching. "How dare you defy me?"
"F-father," Meg stammered, ashamed to hear her voice quiver. She couldn't help it - her lifelong fear of her father couldn't be cooled in two weeks. She half-ran towards him, stopping a few feet away. "I-I-I was only t-trying to - "
Elris took another step forward and backhanded Meg across the face, sending her crashing to the floor with a small cry. There was a murmur of horror among the boys. Rick's jaw dropped open; he shot to his feet, rage on his face. Adair and Tier grabbed him, pulling him back down, though Adair looked rather like he wanted to do the same thing.
Meg staggered to a sitting position, tears streaming down her face. She cupped her swifly bruising cheek in her hand; four droplets of blood from Elris's fingernails begun blossoming. She looked up at her father, chin trembling; Elris looked back at her, a snarl on his face, and aimed a kick at her torso. She ducked out of the way, a sob escaping her.
Lord Padraig jumped to his feet and strode over to where father and daughter of King's Reach were. "Sir Elris," he said formally but with an undercurrent of shock. "I welcome you to the palace and to Corus, but I must ask you to not use physical violence in your treatment of - "
"She is my daughter, haMinch," Elris snarled, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. "I will treat her as I like, even in Court. This is family business." He turned his fury back on Meg, who was facing the floor and crying. "Come, Megenne." He grabbed her forearm, digging his nails into it, and dragged a still-sobbing Meg out of the mess hall.
When the doors slammed shut, the hall erupted with noise. Lord Padraig had to slam his goblet on the table several times to attain silence. "I will not have this matter discussed," he said sternly, then added under his breath, "At least, not that noisily."
Instantly the noise receded and Rick's table turned inward to discuss eagerly. "Well," Blair said cheerfully, "that was...interesting."
"I can't believe it," Rick seethed, twitching. "I can't believe how he treated her."
"No wonder she's so messed up," Rhysten said softly; the other first years and Rick glared at him. "What?" Rhysten demanded plaintively. "She is..."
"That's not the phrasing I would have used, Rhys," Donegal of Veldine muttered under his breath, nudging Rhysten with his elbow.
Adair was staring at the door. "Poor girl," he said softly. "How can he treat his own daughter like that?"
All of the pages turned to look at the door; then, as if someone had flipped a switch, they all turned away and the subject changed. Only Adair and Rick continued glancing at the door anxiously.
::::::
Elris's grip on Meg's arm was like iron, impossible to break. Not that Meg could have tried - she was too cowed by her father's sudden appearace and too weak from two weeks of training. He dragged her outside and into the hallway outside of the mess hall.
When he'd dragged her about ten meters, he whirled upon her, throwing her to the ground again. "So, what do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded furiously. But Meg just kept sobbing, so Elris grabbed her arm again and continued dragging her. "I can't believe you could do such a thing," he stormed at his daughter. "You will never set a foot out of King's Reach again as long as you live, you hear me? I'll never let you out of my sight. You will be in for it when we get home."
Meg felt her perfect existence here at Court collapsing about her. For all her bruises, the glares she'd recieved, the difficulty of her academic classes, compared to life at King's Reach Court had been paradise. She couldn't believe that Elris had discovered her; now she'd have to say goodbye to Ram, to Adair, to Rick. She'd never master riding, never gain the strength for combat, never even perfect her archery.
Thinking of all this upset Meg, but it also put an unusual undercurrent of anger through her entire body. It made her shake; it made her want to fight back. Without knowing what she was doing, Meg felt her furious, shaky energy charge into the spot where Elris gripped her arm.
Elris yelped and dropped his daughter's arm; Meg fell to the floor, striking it hard. She looked up at him, tear-filled eyes wide with terror. He looked from his stinging hand to Meg, slowly putting two and two together and realizing that Meg had, albeit unintentionally, used her Gift.
"You little harlot," Elris snarled, in a voice more venomous than Meg had ever heard him speak. He advanced on her, twitching in fury, slowly raising a hand. Meg crossed her own arms over her head and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the blow.
"Stop right there."
Elris froze and slowly, deliberately, turned in the direction of the voice. Meg's heart gave a tiny leap of hope. The voice was male and pleasantly deep - mild and calm, empty of accusation but with a hint of power and authority. She dared to open an eye and peek through her arms, seeking the owner of the voice that was her saviour.
Meg herself froze upon seeing the man in the doorway. He had a casual air, the same one that had been in his voice, but his tall, swarthy frame showed obvious strength. He was dressed plainly enough, his only distinguishing piece of clothing being his long-sleeved, loose black robe. His hair was black, wavy, and in a ponytail; he was handsome, but not overdone. He took a few steps forward, seeming to move in harmony with his surroundings. The air around him seemed to Meg to crackle with power; his prescence was overwhelming. She lowered her eyes.
"Sir Elris, I must protest your treatment of Megenne," the man said, in the same soft but powerful tone, looking Meg's father right in the eye. Numbly, Meg wondered how he knew her name.
Elris glowered at the man, though not as strongly as he had before. Had Meg been watching him, she would have noticed something like fear behind her father's normally cold eyes. "Sal - Master Salmalín, stay out of this. She is my daughter - even at Court, she is my responsibility." Despite her stunned state, Meg couldn't help a gasp - the man was Numair Salmalín?
She peeked out from behind her arms again, slowly straightening. Numair saw her, gave her the tiniest of smiles, then turned sternly back to Elris. "However, sir, she's now my student and therefore under my protection."
"What?!" Elris demanded, whirling on Meg, who was trying very hard not to give away Numair's bluff. "I expressly forbid her to do anything involving magic or the Gift!"
"That, sir, was a very foolish thing to do," Numair said icily. "Can't you see her potential? She's got the power of a mage beyond her years, and you've suppressed it. Magic lashes back when it's suppressed, as you may have noticed." He gestured to Elris's hurt hand. "Some of us know when we have gone too far," Numair said slowly and deliberately. "She is under the protection of the crown now, Sir Elris, and there's nothing you can do about it anymore."
Elris took a step back, shaking with rage. Meg could tell that even her father, in his blind fury, wouldn't dare stand up to Numair Salmalín. He looked from her to the mage, then finally snarled. "I give up. I've given the wench a home and cared for her eleven years, and here's how she repays me...bitch! You aren't my daughter! You better never show your face 'round King's Reach again, you hear me?"
Meg was too cowed to say or do anything; she remained on the floor, regarding her father with wide eyes. Elris looked from Numair's cold face to his daughter's terrified one, snarled again, and stormed out.
Meg couldn't believe what had just happened. The greatest mage in all of Tortall had defended her! And her father had as good as disowned her...what would she do now? The tears pushed at her eyes, but she turned her head downwards, refusing to cry in front of Numair Salmalín.
Suddenly there was a hand under Meg's chin, gently tilting it upwards until she looked into Numair's hazel eyes. They were gentle and caring, but blazing with power. "We will, I trust," he said softly, "see each other again, Megenne."
Caught by the mage's eyes, all Meg could do was nod. He let her go, stood, and walked away, leaving the girl shaking in the middle of the hallway. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Meg collapsed and gave into the sobs that wracked her slender frame. She cried out of pain, fury, hopelessness, shock, confusion; she cried for the simple life she'd left behind, and she cried because she preferred this new, complicated life so much it scared her.
Meg didn't know how long she'd been crying before she felt two hands on her shoulder, gently lifting her to her feet. She raised bloodshot eyes to Rick's concerned face. "Come on," he said softly, towing her down the hallway. "There's someone I think you should talk to."