AN: (By lelaofbast): Well, I'm tired of waiting for my sister to do this AN. The story must be posted while people are in the Christmas mood. Thanks for reading our first chapter. I hope you enjoy the next. Oh, and kudos to you if you can guess Neal's role…

Review Returns: Nativewildmage- We're glad you like it. Thanks for reviewing. Wildace Keladry2005- Thanks for R & R ing. Mage of Dragons- I haven't ever had dance class at school, but when I was 3 I took ballet lessons. Now I'm clumsy. Every time I trip UP the stairs (all 4 of them) my mom tells me that those ballet lessons really paid off… Thanks for you review. Imakeladrygirl- Well it would have been up sooner if SOMEONE had written her AN! Thanks for reading. Kelly Masbolle- I'm glad we amused you. As for your questions- I think that I was going with Kel's daughter being 12- since she's a third-year. Since my birthday is in August, I was close to the cut-off, and I was always the youngest in my class. So Bess is just a young third-year. (And I think that Kel was 19 in the end of LK. I may be wrong, though.) And you are right; there are a lot of pages and squires. Oh well, the realm will get some REALLY GREAT knights now. Descended from the best. It will be a legacy of majestic knights not seen since the Lioness and Giantkiller. Okay now I'm babbling. Thanks for R and R ing.

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A Midwinter Story
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By the
LADIESofQUEENSCOVEandJESSLAW:
lelaofbast
And
trollseatfish
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Chapter Two: Casted
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Midwinter Present
475
Midwinter Past
453
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The story was interrupted by the arrival of Owen. Sir Owen of Jesslaw had married a lady called Clayr, a former scullery maid of Cavall. They had one child, an eleven-year-old daughter, now a page, named Maira.

Owen filled himself a plate from the buffet table and sat down.

"What are we talking about?" he asked.

"The Great Ballet of 453," Merric said disdainfully.

"Oh, that was a jolly ole time," Owen said, popping a cheese puff into his mouth.

"What part did you play, Mother?" Bess asked Kel.

"Well …"

"First of all, we need a Nutcracker Prince." Lord Adente said. It was the page's second dance lesson, and after practicing, Lord Adente began casting. "Do I have any volunteers?"

Every hand but Kel's went up. Just as most of the boys didn't want to have a girl's part, she didn't want to have a lead part.

"I should have seen that coming," Lord Adente said with a sigh. "Very well. Keladry, you will be the prince."

"Me, sir?" Kel squeaked. "Surely there's someone better. I'm clumsy. I'd have enough trouble just learning to be one of those people who dance around with a candy cane."

"Well then I suggest you get in some extra practice," the teacher said. "Now, would anyone care to be Clara?"

Kel saw Owen looking around. Then his hand shot up. Neal's hand instinctively slapped his own forehead.

"You wanted the girl role, Da?" Maira asked. Owen nodded.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Dom exclaimed.

"The role of Clara required dignity, grace, and jolliness, all of which are qualities that I possess in abundance."

Neal and Merric picked up soft, warm rolls and lobbed them at their friend.

"Owen made a splendid Clara," Roald said, ending the discussion. "And Lord Adente was thrilled…"

"If you would all volunteer as eagerly as young Owen, this would be finished a lot faster, and a lot less painfully," Lord Adente said, nodding to a scribe to take down Owen's name.

While the others were cast, Owen and Kel were measured for their costumes by a crotchety old man with a long knotted cord. Slowly pages joined them.

Merric seemed semi-content with his role. He was to be the seven-headed rat king. Prince Roald was the mechanical tin soldier.

Best of all, Joren and his cronies were all made flowers of the kingdom. Their costumes would be pastel. Neal couldn't contain his laughter.

"That only lasted until you got your own role," Kel pointed out.

"So," Neal retorted. Cleon spoke up.

"Neal was the last one to be picked…"

"Ah, Master Nealan. You seem to be the last one left," Lord Adente said with a smile that Neal would later describe as 'almost cruel.'

Neal burst into the measuring area, and stood with his arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart.

"He has it for me, I swear it!"

"How bad could it be?" Kel asked.

"Yeah, it can't be any worse than Cleon's part," Owen added. "He's Mother Ginger. You know, the one with all the little kids under her skirt."

"That's not so bad," Teron of Blythdin, a first-year, piped up. "I'm one of those children."

"It's worse," Neal said dramatically. Kel rolled her eyes.

"What is it?"

"What's left?" Roald answered with a question and a knowing smile.