Wishing You Were Here

Letter One:

Of Equine Partiality and Hereditary Insanity

Fort Steadfast

Third Company Barracks

5th September, 462 H.E.

-

Dear Kel,

I suppose I will start by informing you that I am well at the time I write this, and that all our Company is well, excepting two or three people, most likely due to the fact that Wolset had Mess duty last night (draw your own conclusions…). That aside, all is well at the present, and I hope that when this reaches you, it will find you fit and comfortable.

I must admit, I was very excited when I received your letter. I had just about given up on getting any answer from you, but better late than never indeed, Lady Knight. Unfortunately, upon discovering that we had started writing each other, the men of my squad became somewhat prone to rather childish mockery and…insinuations, shall we say? But that sort of behavior is, sadly, what comes of men being far from home and 'proper society' for long periods of time. We shall simply have to ignore them for the time being, until it all blows over. And it will blow over soon enough, considering last week, everyone was joking about Qasim and Emmet, and by this week, they've forgotten all about the incident.

It has been very cold lately, has it not? I find that as I run from the barracks to the mess in the mornings, my fingers nearly freeze before I can reach the relative warmth inside. In addition to this, I have come to believe that the Royal Crown/Residing Generals/Powers That Be consider our horses more important than us men ourselves (perhaps the Wildmage has been around too much recently), for it seems to me that the conditions in the stables are a great deal warmer than what we humans luxuriate in nightly. We only have one wood stove in the barracks, which is small fare for 80 or 90 men. I suppose the fact that we have survived the war so far is to be appreciated, but I continue to hope that we will leave for a warmer climate soon. Or perhaps I shall simply take to spending the greater part of my free time with our good equine fellows…

Third Company has not yet received our orders pertaining to the "post war clean-up", as it is called, though Lord Raoul tells us we should get them by the first of next week. You wrote that you and your men have not seen any action recently, unfortunately, the same is not true for us. We have seen several skirmishes in the last few weeks, mostly aberrant enemy foot-soldiers hoping to scrounge something off our patrols, or perverse Scanrans who continue to deny defeat. Though "un-official", these fights take their toll just the same, and we continue to lose men to the Black God. I would inform you that Volorin's squad has lost two men since the "end of the war", and Aiden's squad three. On top of this, the numerous maimed and wounded from throughout the war continue to pass through Steadfast on their way south. If you were here, and saw the number of sick and disabled, it would no doubt make your heart ache. As with any war, there are thousands of soldiers who will see home and family no more in this world. But enough of the hard side of a Soldier's Life. I would tell you the good side if only I knew it. But I am sure you know exactly of what I speak, and perhaps you (being the almighty and all-knowing Protector that you are) can shed enlightenment on the case.

And on to more light-hearted matters. You asked about Raoul. Well, I'll tell you. But remember, you asked, so it's not my fault if you are hereafter assaulted with tales you did not wish to hear.

You see, the Lioness was visiting here recently, and, as everyone knows, she is not the easiest person to get along with (I thought I should add, I have just been awarded the prize for 'Understatement of the Year'). As fate had it, she arrived the same day Lord Wyldon chose to grace Steadfast with his presence.

Now, as you know, Lady Knight Alanna and My Lord of Cavall have never been on the best of terms (I really have got this understatement thing down pretty well).

Well. Lady Alanna and Lord Wyldon, without a doubt, found something to disagree over, Mithros only knows what (although some, myself included, swear they heard your name, and more than once). And, as you may not have known, Alanna has been forbidden to challenge men to duels on personal grounds for many years now. Unfortunately, the Lioness has a certain tendency to disregard orders, even when they come from the highest personage (i.e. the king).

So, Alanna was all set to duel Lord Wyldon, when My Lord Raoul (knowing Alanna's restriction) got it in his head that he should stop her. Duty and obligation and liability and all that, he said.

Needless to say, Lady Alanna did not take Lord Raoul's intervention very well (It seems that I am now the leading expert in the Field of Understatement). I believe I'll leave to your imagination the chastisement she inflicted upon him.

And remember, you did ask.

You also asked about my family in your letter. I can only hope that extreme boredom has driven you to inquire about this topic, as otherwise I may become worried about the state of your mental health, and the fact that the only healer you have at New Hope is Neal, whose mental health is already in question.

Well, first off, you should know that the majority of my family is more than slightly mentally unstable. (You have met Neal, have you not?)

Neal aside, the remainder of my family continues in the insane pattern, excepting one or two persons who manage to prove relatively normal. You have heard the saying that every generation births a mad one? Well, my dear, it is my belief that the opposite is true where my family is concerned, and that, if we are lucky, every generation births a sane one, while everyone else is happily stark raving mad.

Let me see. Why don't we start with…not my father. He's definitely not the type we should start with. Perhaps my mother, because I can sum her up quite quickly: Neal makes numerous references to the fact that only his "least favourite aunt" calls him Nealan. My mother would be that "least favourite aunt".

In fact, my parents are not what one would call the pinnacle of the Masbolle species. And then there's my aunt Ethelfritha. After being stuck by lightning, her nerves (not to mention her hair) are more than a bit frazzled. Once, she sat all day at my mother's feet, strumming an imaginary lute and singing songs in make-believe Kyprish. The next day, she thought she was a sausage.

Do you understand now why I tend to avoid the topic of my family at all costs?

And I'll leave you to ponder whether I am one of the sane ones or not, shall I?

I am compelled to add that Devon (from Balim's squad, perhaps you remember) has informed me that he wishes to get married upon his return from army life, and demands that I ask you to tell any good-looking, amiable young women you know that he is available. I hope he is expecting one of your pretty refugees will be responsive, though it had better not be you he is so deviously expressing his interest in.

I was going to say that I wished you were here, but I now have stipulations in writing that, due to the fact that Devon has now asked me if it would be inappropriate to request a lock of your hair.

Forgive me if the paper if somewhat rumpled, but I think I may have had convulsions at the thought of you and Devon…

I'll end this here.

Give my greeting and respects to all, and be sure you keep a share for yourself, and write back soon, as I am eagerly awaiting your response.

Wishing you were here (despite certain hesitations),

Domitan of Masbolle

A/N – Just to clarify, the Scanran War is "officially" over, but not "technically" over, if you catch my drift. In other words, Kel and Dom are still at their posts while the peace talks and treaties go on. I thought that this time period would be less distracting than others, and the best time for Kel and Dom to carry on a letter correspondence. At the moment, I'm really not sure how long this will end up being, though I do plan on having at least 5 or 6 letters, possibly more (should I venture to say, the length of which may depend on the reviews…). The next chapter will be Kel's reply to Dom, and so on. (And perhaps there may be some interference by our Sir Queenscove, should he discover the exchange…) 'Twill be fun to see their relationship evolve through letters, though, don't you agree?