Stone and Ice
Written by White Phoenix Erialis
I rated this PG-13 for a reason. If necessary (and I'm thinking that it might be) I will raise the rating to R, reason being some rather blatant implications of the darker side of a student's life. You have been warned. Also note that this is an AU fanfiction.
To clarify things: the first five paragraphs are set during a party.
From the shadows she watched him, her still face unreadable. It was difficult to guess if her expression was due to her practiced stoicism or an innate desire to appear as a casual observer. From the way she leaned against the pillar by the door, looking as if she had been there for years already past, it was obvious that she was not on talking terms with him. Him, who had his back to her and was just as casually conversing with a very, very pretty girl.
She would have sworn that he was attempting to spite her. It wasn't working, as far as she was concerned. She knew what he thought of the blonde, having heard him discuss the virtues of a few junior girls with members of his clique. Empty-headed chit whose virginity is highly questionable. Yes, that had been the precise terms he had used. It was vulgar, but the meaning behind it was quite believable.
If he'd thought that the sight of him flirting in plain sight would have affected her, then she would have every right to call him a block-headed heartless jerk who had no reason to exist in the same country and pollute the air. In fact, she would tell him just as much when she had garnered the courage to. It would be a feat, she told herself virtuously, that would deserve seven days and nights of festivities and celebrations, simply because it had never been accomplished before. She would be exalted.
She saw him lean forward; pressing his lips to the girl's, his hand slipping up the back of her blouse. The pretty girl blushed. Hazel-green eyes, watching from afar, narrowed as she frowned, puzzled. Don't tell me he really is going to...? She refused to pursue that train of thought, simply because it was highly degrading to interfere with someone else's sex life. After all, this guy had a reputation of having one too many flings.
She watched him and the girl enter a private office, unable to keep their hands off each other, a thoughtful light creeping across her face. Then she too, walked away. But she merely left by means of the front door, heading for a place where the music was softer, the drinks safer, and the people much more civilised.
-
It was the talk of the school. The pretty girl was pregnant, and no one knew just who the father was. No one, but with the exception of two- no, three- persons. The mother, the father and her. There was no doubt about it, because she watched them and knew what was happening. She would not let this chance slip through her fingers. Not ever.
He appeared guiltless, but she saw through that facade, saw past the ice in the blue eyes. But she would stop there, knowing that it would not be wise to look too deeply past the blue eyes, for then she would see the boy behind the mask, and see the humanity all too clearly. She did not want to see him in such a light, because it would mean passing up a chance for revenge. Revenge that had waited too long. She would not risk losing everything she lived for.
He knew that she watched him, perhaps. But he said nothing, showed nothing. She knew better than to underestimate him. She had done so one time too many, and then she had paid hell. It was payback time, but the opportunity was still not ripe. It would wait a few more days, until the audience was the biggest and the humiliation at its greatest. It would be fair, and then she would stop. She was fair, too.
The day came and the chance arrived. She knew the seeds of suspicion were already planted. When she entered the lecture hall, the class was in full swing without the lecturer. She saw him sitting in the centre of the class, with the rest of his clique and several pretty girls. Without the one he had made pregnant, obviously. It was the time she had waited for, waited for too long.
"You bitch. You actually believed I would stoop to your level to be your friend?"
"What happened at the camp? You're asking me? Isn't it obvious?"
"You're a fool. And we all know it."
"Stupid. Why don't you just go to hell-"
TWACK!
She woke with a start, sweating on the floor with her blankets tangled about her legs. Then she felt the sun upon her face and laughed. It was cynical, but a laughter nonetheless- laughter she had not laughed for many days.
She had lost it in the end. She had given up on her revenge, simply because she made the mistake of looking into those ice-blue eyes. But it was not a boy that she saw behind those cold walls. She doubted that the boy would surface again. She simply knew it, instinctively, as much as she knew that it was pointless to carry her plans out, plans so carefully laid out in her secret soul.
It was all simply because she had seen the heart of stone, and had realised that it would not matter anyway.
Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned/ involved in the story belong to Ms. Tamora Pierce.
A/N: Don't complain to me that Keladry was behaving a little bit unusual. If you haven't realised that was the intention all along, then I really have nothing left to say. In fact, I don't find it strange at all. Step into the shoes of a moralist and look at someone like Joren. You might just feel that way too. Review if you feel like doing so, but I'm not offering cookies.