A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Life and school is getting in the way. I'm thinking about revising Rekindled completely over. I know it's my first fic, but it really sucks. Rekindled is probably one of my most worst piece of literature to date. Dante is wonderful, I have happen to have fantasies about him and my friends regard me as a complete loon. Oh well. They'll get over it. Here's chapter three! Toodles!
Title: Revenge
Chapter Two: Sir Joren of Stone Mountain
By: DarkDracon0
Joren surveyed the large ballroom with growing dislike. Gods, it was hot in here. Too many people. He searched the room again, looking for a familiar face. And narrowed his eyes when he didn't find any. Why the hell had the king made him come and not any other knight? Not even idiot Queenscove was here.
Joren nudged his way through the press of bodies and toward a balcony after evading several invitations tossed at him. But there was a lady standing near that balcony. Nearly right in front of the doorway. Her back was slightly turned to him and she was looking idly at the far wall of the ballroom. Glorious streaked red, blond, and brown hair, all arranged in the elegant style of current Court fashion. Kimono, sky blue colored. Must be one of the Yaman ladies. Her back was straight. It looked as if someone had pressed an invisible broom handle against her spine. He couldn't quite see her face, but he imagined that it would be elegant, like her outfit.
He had never seen her before. But why did she seem so familiar? She was a bit too tall. He was willing to bet that she stared down at most men. Men didn't usually like it when the lady was taller than he was. Which might explain the reason why she was standing alone in a corner. He strode toward her, with full intent to make small talk and maybe send her on her way. He wanted to be alone.
When he was behind, he cleared his throat. And waited. She was still looking at damn wall. He cleared his throat again. And she continued to ignore him. Joren felt slightly annoyed. It was loud in the room, but she should have heard him. He reached his hand out and tapped her shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kel froze when she felt the hand touch her shoulder. How had anyone noticed her? She thought she could blend in as the other Yaman ladies were doing right now. She took a deep breathe. Remember, the Eastern men were different from the Yaman nobles. But simpler and easier to understand. Or she always thought so. Lord Rath had said so himself. She could still remember the words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Keladry, the Eastern men are but simpletons. Give them a woman to flatter them about their masculine superiority, their good looks, and they will believe themselves gods. You smile at one of them, they will believe you are teasing and want them to be your next lover. Its all based in primal instinct. Almost like horses. The stallion smells mare, he will bolt and overcome any obstacle to mount her. They are ruled by bodily desires and lust. Use that against them and you will win control over them. They think that women are somehow stupid and do not know anything, but how to please. They are wrong. Any man with no respect for women is but a fool."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She turned. He had icy blue eyes, blond hair that was nearly white. And barely managed to stifle her small gasp of surprise. She knew only one man that was so handsome. And she thought he had faded away in her memory like everything else almost had. Joren of Stone Mountain. Still devastatingly handsome. And still looked cold and arrogant. Kel carefully schooled her face into cool and passive features and looked at him full in the face, feeling like an angel leaping to hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Joren felt that jolt when she turned around. It was quick and violent, like lightening striking him. Her face… It was so familiar. Why wasn't his memory picking out the name for her if he felt as if he knew her? Slashing cheekbones, straight, delicate nose, dreamer's eyes. Full, sensual lips. He knew her. He was sure of it. He was sure he had met her before, or at least seen her. But even if he knew her and couldn't place her anywhere in his memory, why was there this nagging feeling that almost demanding him to find out who she was?
He mentally shook himself. Staring at her wasn't going to help find out who she was. It would probably make his life more of a living hell. He was often the object of gossip at Court. There were rumors that his father was dying and since he was the heir, it meant more offers of marriage. Of course, the rumor about his father was not at all true. Unless he missed his guess, Lord Burchard would be in bed with Glenna, a serving wench, back at Stone Mountain, this very minute.
"Greetings, my lady. By the kimono you are wearing, are you a visitor of Tortall?" Joren felt almost awkward for a moment. He was never awkward. He had a reputation for being making words like bastard sound like a compliment.
"Yes, I accompanied Princess Shinkokami from the Yamani Islands to Tortall to meet the royal family." Kel had said that automatically. She wondered if it sounded as false as her ears had told her.
"My I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my lady?"
Title: Revenge
Chapter Two: Sir Joren of Stone Mountain
By: DarkDracon0
Joren surveyed the large ballroom with growing dislike. Gods, it was hot in here. Too many people. He searched the room again, looking for a familiar face. And narrowed his eyes when he didn't find any. Why the hell had the king made him come and not any other knight? Not even idiot Queenscove was here.
Joren nudged his way through the press of bodies and toward a balcony after evading several invitations tossed at him. But there was a lady standing near that balcony. Nearly right in front of the doorway. Her back was slightly turned to him and she was looking idly at the far wall of the ballroom. Glorious streaked red, blond, and brown hair, all arranged in the elegant style of current Court fashion. Kimono, sky blue colored. Must be one of the Yaman ladies. Her back was straight. It looked as if someone had pressed an invisible broom handle against her spine. He couldn't quite see her face, but he imagined that it would be elegant, like her outfit.
He had never seen her before. But why did she seem so familiar? She was a bit too tall. He was willing to bet that she stared down at most men. Men didn't usually like it when the lady was taller than he was. Which might explain the reason why she was standing alone in a corner. He strode toward her, with full intent to make small talk and maybe send her on her way. He wanted to be alone.
When he was behind, he cleared his throat. And waited. She was still looking at damn wall. He cleared his throat again. And she continued to ignore him. Joren felt slightly annoyed. It was loud in the room, but she should have heard him. He reached his hand out and tapped her shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kel froze when she felt the hand touch her shoulder. How had anyone noticed her? She thought she could blend in as the other Yaman ladies were doing right now. She took a deep breathe. Remember, the Eastern men were different from the Yaman nobles. But simpler and easier to understand. Or she always thought so. Lord Rath had said so himself. She could still remember the words.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Keladry, the Eastern men are but simpletons. Give them a woman to flatter them about their masculine superiority, their good looks, and they will believe themselves gods. You smile at one of them, they will believe you are teasing and want them to be your next lover. Its all based in primal instinct. Almost like horses. The stallion smells mare, he will bolt and overcome any obstacle to mount her. They are ruled by bodily desires and lust. Use that against them and you will win control over them. They think that women are somehow stupid and do not know anything, but how to please. They are wrong. Any man with no respect for women is but a fool."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She turned. He had icy blue eyes, blond hair that was nearly white. And barely managed to stifle her small gasp of surprise. She knew only one man that was so handsome. And she thought he had faded away in her memory like everything else almost had. Joren of Stone Mountain. Still devastatingly handsome. And still looked cold and arrogant. Kel carefully schooled her face into cool and passive features and looked at him full in the face, feeling like an angel leaping to hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Joren felt that jolt when she turned around. It was quick and violent, like lightening striking him. Her face… It was so familiar. Why wasn't his memory picking out the name for her if he felt as if he knew her? Slashing cheekbones, straight, delicate nose, dreamer's eyes. Full, sensual lips. He knew her. He was sure of it. He was sure he had met her before, or at least seen her. But even if he knew her and couldn't place her anywhere in his memory, why was there this nagging feeling that almost demanding him to find out who she was?
He mentally shook himself. Staring at her wasn't going to help find out who she was. It would probably make his life more of a living hell. He was often the object of gossip at Court. There were rumors that his father was dying and since he was the heir, it meant more offers of marriage. Of course, the rumor about his father was not at all true. Unless he missed his guess, Lord Burchard would be in bed with Glenna, a serving wench, back at Stone Mountain, this very minute.
"Greetings, my lady. By the kimono you are wearing, are you a visitor of Tortall?" Joren felt almost awkward for a moment. He was never awkward. He had a reputation for being making words like bastard sound like a compliment.
"Yes, I accompanied Princess Shinkokami from the Yamani Islands to Tortall to meet the royal family." Kel had said that automatically. She wondered if it sounded as false as her ears had told her.
"My I have the pleasure of knowing your name, my lady?"