The handwritten copy of this story is currently in a blue-covered notebook, a little tatty from being brought to camp, but still handsome. We've covered 25 pages and still going strong. It has won the delights of some readers, the disapproval and horror of others. But it has the potential to be a masterpiece, don't you think?

*We don't own the characters. We own the depressing story we put them in. (And Sunne)*

(that disclaimer IS getting old… I really don't actually write many depressing things… and when I do, it shouldn't be classified like that…hm… I need a new disclaimer! Help me!)

_____________________________________________ Chapter seven: Lost and found

Kel's heart spun as she twirled around in her dark red gown.

"You look beautiful," commented Neal.

Ke'l stopped to face him. Neal was sitting on the railing casually. He looked so nice in that red suit. She watched as he straightened.

"Care to dance?" he asked, extending an arm.

Kel nodded and took his hand. Pulling him off the railing, they began to waltz slowly, leaning into each other. It was a wonderful moment of their closeness as the glowing light of the setting sun beamed down upon them.

"Milord! Milady!" There was a shout and the two lovers jumped o see the first-year page called Sunne running towards them.

"Yes Sunne?" said Neal.

"Sir Cleon's mother's calling for him," the boy puffed, "She's looking for him. She says his mice are having babies!"

Kel giggled. Neal looked amused. "I haven't seen him all day, have you?" he asked, turning to Kel.

"I'm afraid not," she said, "but I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

"But - but -"Sunne was apparently very anxious. "Milady, the Lady of Kennan says that is Sir Cleon cannot show enough responsibility by being there when they need him, then she would be compelled to disown him."

"That's fine!" said Neal and waved a dismissive hand. "That's great, Sunne! In fact, that's so great, I'm going to let you go!"

the page, too frightened to object again, was forced to leave.

"Now," said Neal when Sunne had left, "Let's dance some more."

***

Alex poured his second goblet of wine down his shirt as he watched Thom finish his fourth. Thon was beginning to sway and slur his speech. He leaned over the table and breathed into Alex's face. Alex pulled a face, but Thom didn't notice.

"Isn't it great how we're reconciling?" he shouted, attracting the attention of other people in the pub.

"Er… of course…" replied Alex, not drunk at all. "Listen, Thom -"

"And you!" yelled Thom, now turning to Joren. "You, my boy, are beautiful!"

"Aw, really?" asked Joren, fluttering his eyelashes. "Thanks…" he suddenly turned away. "You're gorgeous, Thom," he said shyly.

Alex looked at Joren. What was wrong with him? He tapped Joren hard on the back of his head. Joren looked hurt and confused.

"Now Thom, we really need to ask you of a favour -"

"Anything for Jorey boy," purred Thom.

Alex cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, what I was -"

Thom suddenly jumped up. "Talk later! Now we dance!" and grabbed Joren's hand and the pair spun away.

Joren giggled, delighted.

Alex cursed under his breath as the rest of the pub turned to stare, Joren was drunk! Didn't he know better than to drink so much? He was only supposed to pretend to be drunk. Now it looked like they could never get Thom's help of obtaining Merric. They could get him even more drunk and seduce him, but…

Roger burst in, his hair wet and mud-covered. In his arms lay a young curly-redheaded man.

"I got him," Roger said hoarsely, "You'd better thank me because…" His voice trailed off as his eyes registered the scene. "What are they doing?" he asked, twitching his head towards the dancing pair.

"I don't know," said Alex shortly. "Let's go."

Alex and Roger were halfway out the door when there was a shout of "Merric!" and Joren came running up to them, apparently sober again. Roger hoisted Merric onto his shoulders and all of them set off down the corridor at a run.

***

"Joren! How did you get so drunk?"

Joren moaned. The image before his eyes was not exactly comforting. Two Alexs stood, rocking.

"I don't know. I only drunk one cup." He really had only drunk one cup.

Alex sighed. Joren was such a weakling. Alex went to close the door as Roger dumped his load on the bed. He grinned.

"Now, Joren, this is the moment you've been waiting for. Tada!" he yelled, removing the cloth that covered their victim's face, "It's Merric!"

Joren squinted at Roger and fell off his chair.

"Joren!" wailed Roger, "Look, it's Merric!"

Alex shook his head. "It's no good. He's fainted. I'll got get some water, you try to rouse him."

Roger looked at Joren. His eyes were closed and he was terribly pale. Roger tapped him gently on the head. "Come on Joren," he called softly, "Wake up now!"

Joren lay still.

Roger tapped him harder.

Joren stirred.

Roger picked him up by the shoulder and shook him vigorously. Oren suddenly tensed and vomited.

"Ewwww!" screamed Roger and dropped Joren. Joren landed head first into the vomit.

"Roger" cried Alex, walking in, "What is he doing in that pool of vomit?"

Roger was sitting in the corner, covering his eyes, whispering, "it's too gross, it's too gross…"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're both so useless!"

Roger crossed his arms. "So what do you say we do?"

"We wait until Joren wakes up, of course." They both sat.

After a while, Roger, looking at the boy's uncovered face, commented, "You know, he's not that pretty…"

_____________________________________

Well, I'm not going to spoil it for you but I think it's pretty clear what's going to happen next. Let's just say that Joren wakes up with an unexpected someone…

Why are all the cool characters dead? Like Joren, Thom, Sirius Black…Why is this world so unfair? Tell me that - WHY??? I'm currently compiling a 'cool people who died list'. If you have any suggestions please tell me…