Count by Years

By Mimma

When she was fourteen, the first time he saw her, she was his baby cousin's best friend, a girl who (Meathead said) was good at everything and had more morals than was probably good for her, a girl he had been expecting to like, because Neal did. He'd been pleasantly surprised when he didn't have to like her because Neal did, but he could like her all for herself. Keladry of Mindelan had been an interesting friend and fighter he could most likely trust with his life, but sexless because she was a kid (fourteen counted, for girls) and because she was a squire.

When she was fifteen (or thereabouts) she took on the task of raising a baby griffin, and took such good care of it that he'd remarked –to a good number of people he had thought were his friends- that she would probably make a good mother to some lucky sap's children someday. All right, so he had said it in a contemplative way and he had been looking into the fire, but he had most certainly not sighed longingly and even more certainly had not superimposed his own face onto his mental picture of her future family. Moreover, Lord Raoul could not read minds. This proved it.

Later that year, she had started competing in the tournaments, and he had felt such a sense of pride at her, at being the friend of someone so determined, so graceful, so… his mind was getting off track. Then he'd seen her walking with some red-haired giant, and he'd assured himself that he was not jealous, only… concerned. Concerned for someone who was like his… little sister. That was it. Still, it was a struggle, every time he saw them together (and no, he had not gone looking to find Kel on her own), not to simply distract her from him. Or, punch Kennan. Out of brotherly concern, of course. Nothing else.

Then when she was sixteen, he told himself he didn't care that Kel was spending more time with the Own, less with that boy (he found that the urge to punch Kennan lessened when he referred to him as that boy), and simply concentrated on being charming. He was very good at this. He hoped.

When she was seventeen, Third Company was sent to the north, and in between the fighting and the playing, he found time to notice that Kel was a no longer a kid, and treated her more like a girl. He was not entirely sure he succeeded, but it was immensely gratifying to watch her turn pink. She looked cute that way.

When she was eighteen, he watched her set off on a fool's mission (a successful and necessary mission, but foolish nonetheless), and decided he was in love with her. He also decided she must like him back. At least a little. He felt warm whenever she confided in him, and was pleased to see her blush for him.

When she was nineteen, they kissed for the first time. And the rest, as they say, is history, because that nice couple deserves some privacy.

End-

The Tests Of Creativity Suppressing (TOCS, the sound you make when you bounce your head off the wall in frustration because your head is empty of story ideas) have been triumphed over for another year! Long live fanfiction!