Redemption

Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce owns PotS and I only wish I did.

A/N: This chapter is a bit dark, but I needed to set the stage for a future event. Please bear with me - I promise this story will be Kel/Joren eventually. Thanks for your patience!

Twisted Thoughts

Kel put a hand on the door and leaned into the opening, making sure he could see her clearly. "If I hear of you bothering any female, not just her, I'll take you before the court of the Goddess. I'll risk making an enemy of the pack that whelped you."

Vinson blanched under his scratches and pimples. A man convicted of hurting women in the Goddess' court faced harsh penalties; those for actual rape were the worst of all. The temples maintained their own warriors to enforce the Goddess' law.

"I never want to see the wench again" he snapped, his voice cracking. "I'd give anything never to see you." He slammed the door.

Tamora Pierce, Squire

Joren looked down at the blood-stained wash rag in his hands. When he looked at the reflection in the mirror on the wall above the wash basin, he winced along with the person he was now 'visiting.' Scratches and peck marks covered the face, which was not all that good-looking to begin with. Joren understood his friend Vinson of Genlith's pained expression. There was a lot of damage to his pimply, pock-marked skin. Joren wondered what had happened.

"Explore his memories," urged the Chamber. "They are very fresh due to the pain - you should be able to see them clearly as he tends to his injuries."

Joren then realized for the first time that he could detect a difference between thoughts and memories quite easily. Vinson's thoughts were clear, like seeing through a clean glass window. Vinson's memories had a hazy quality to them, like seeing something through a curtain of light gauze. It was simple to go back and forth between the two. Joren was repulsed by what he saw in his friend's mind. Everything was so twisted; both the thoughts and the memories were bitter, malevolent, painful and harsh. Joren knew at that moment he would not enjoy this 'learning experience' any better than the other ones.

Joren entered into Vinson's memories of what had caused the injuries to his face. Vinson had seen the maid sewing within a deep window sill. He knew the girl was the personal servant of the Lump, Keladry of Mindelan. Oh, how he hated the Lump - he still refused to call her by her proper name! He had been confident that he and his friends, especially his best friend Joren of Stone Mountain, would have gotten rid of her by now. Vinson had lost a large sum of money on several wagers with his conservative cousins because he had assured them that Kel would be gone by the middle of the first year, then by the end of the summer camp-out, then by the next midwinter, then after the little exams, and so on. Not only did the Lump stay and thrive, but she somehow secured the services of this maid. Vinson knew his family had much more wealth than the 'jumped-up merchant' Mindelan clan, but his stingy father would not pay for him to have a personal servant. It just wasn't right!

At first, Vinson had only wanted to steal a kiss and maybe a squeeze, but he became enraged when the silly girl fought him off. Then he wanted to hurt the maid - to punish her for her insolence. He was a noble - she was a nothing. During their struggle, Vinson had started thinking about all of the other girls who had rebuffed him. He knew he wasn't handsome - even his friends often made unkind remarks about his pimples and his sallow complexion and his awkwardness. But this low-born servant of the hated Lump would notmake a fool of him. He had grabbed the maid by the hair, with plans to drag her into the bushes and assault her, when a flock of sparrows started to attack him. Vinson then remembered that the Lump always had birds around her. He had yowled and cursed as the birds pecked at his face and hands and the maid clawed at him. He was making progress at pulling the girl from her window seat, when the Lump, in all her meddlesome glory, came to the maid's rescue. Vinson's leg still ached where the Lump had kicked him, and his face still stung where she had slapped him. He felt disgusted at himself for not continuing to fight the girl page - he was sure his friend Joren would not have backed down from the Lump.

Then Vinson had started thinking about how Joren would have handled things differently with the maid and with the Lump anyway. Joren began to feel Vinson experience a strange mix of intense jealousy and an almost worshipful awe. Vinson really wanted to be more like Joren, but he knew that was impossible. Although his family was just as wealthy and powerful as his friend's family, Vinson was painfully aware that he lacked Joren's good looks and charisma. He burned with envy at the memories of how ladies always competed for Joren's attention - and how Joren always had his pick of the swarming ladies. Vinson thought that if Joren had been the one to snatch the maid, she probably wouldn't have minded - or fought - one bit. Vinson ground his teeth together and decided he had had enough of languishing in Joren's shadow. He silently vowed to take what he wanted and to not allow any girl refuse him anymore.

Just then, someone knocked on Vinson's door, but didn't wait for him to invite them in. The spirit Joren felt the jolt of embarrassment and self-loathing that Vinson experienced as the squire Joren, looking poised and self-assured as always, burst into his room. Joren watched through Vinson's eyes as his younger self stopped short of the table and gaped at Vinson's ravaged face.

"What was all that commotion about? Why was the Lump over here and ... Mithros' beard! What happened to you?" exclaimed Joren.

Vinson fought to keep his voice nonchalant. "The Lump's maid decided to play hard to get. I almost had her, but her mistress interrupted and sent the maid back to her chambers. I think she just wants to keep the wench all to herself, if you know what I mean."

Joren had guffawed at the idea of Kel being with her maid in any kind of physical way, but let Vinson salve his wounded pride without further comment on the incident.

"Come on,"Joren urged his friend, "I know a healer who won't ask questions and he won't tell the training master. He'll fix you up to be as good as new, and no one will be the wiser. You don't want to let the Lump and her maid ruin our plans for a fun night at the tavern, do you?"

Actually, Vinson had forgotten that he had been looking forward to going out with his friends that night. Now, with the help of Joren's secretive healer, he could still go to town, have some ale and perhaps bed a serving wench. That would make all the day's unpleasantness go away, even if he had to pay. He quickly changed his clothes and let Joren lead him to the healer. After that, the two of them met up with their friends as planned at a favorite tavern in the lower city.

Much later that night, Vinson committed the first of his assaults on a young serving girl who had refused to sit on his lap after she brought him his ale.

The Chamber forced Joren to stay within Vinson's twisted thoughts and witness his evil acts as his friend followed the poor girl and forced her into a dark alley. Joren couldn't escape from the 'visit' until Vinson stumbled back to his own bed chamber and fell into a fitful slumber. Joren was never happier to feel the now-familiar ripping sensation of freedom than he was at that moment. He also knew that if he were back in his own body, he would have vomited right then and there.

"Why? Why did you make me go there?" Joren asked the Chamber once they were back on his familiar grassy hilltop. "What was I supposed to learn from all of that? Vinson was always sort of ... different, I suppose ... but I never thought he was that deranged. I thought he was mostly alright - until after his Ordeal."

"Really?" questioned the Chamber/Joren, raising an eyebrow in a gesture that Joren knew too well mirrored his own disbelief. "You never wondered where Vinson disappeared to after your tavern excursions? You never thought about the comments he made, thanking you for referring him to your discreet healer? You thought your friend was alright?"

"He was just confused," defended Joren. "Vinson's thoughts were just as jumbled up as that last boy's - Owen's - thoughts. Well, maybe ... in a different way ... obviously. Being inside of Vinson's mind was awful! I never knew he had so much difficulty with the ladies. I just thought he was too shy and clumsy for his own good. Garvey and I used to ... joke about it to him all the time. I suppose that wasn't very helpful after all."

"Obviously not," drawled the Chamber/Joren. "What do you think now?"

"I really used to like Vinson, but now I just feel sorry for him." Joren looked back at his family's castle and then returned his gaze to the stony valley below. "I never realized that he thought he was in competition with me. We've known each other since childhood. We even had the same private riding instructor before we became pages. Our parents were happy to send us off to the palace training together. But seeing Vinson's deranged thoughts and feeling his unbelievable jealousy towards me ... well ... it's ... I ... I feel defiled! He's absolutely pathetic."

Joren looked away and sat in silence for a long while. Then he turned back to the Chamber/Joren and quietly asked, "What will happen to Vinson now?"

The Chamber/Joren seemed to stare oddly at Joren before he answered. "I do not know. You mortals are unpredictable. Vinson always was a loyal friend to you, even in his most demented moments, but he may be beyond help. I still have him in my grasp. I know you witnessed my power over him when I let him depart from the stone chamber to confess his crimes to the magistrate. Vinson will continue to feel every blow, every slap and every violation that he committed against those women, until the magistrate sentences him to a just punishment. Only then will your friend be allowed to experience peace."

"Will he ... will Vinson live?" asked Joren.

"Perhaps," replied the Chamber/Joren, with a thoughtful look on his face. "You mortals have interesting ways of deciding what is just, and your laws are tricky - as you should know quite well. If the gods deem the punishment too lenient, Vinson may continue to feel the effects of my punishment for some time. It is too soon to tell. He may decide to take matters into his own hands if it all becomes too unbearable for him."

Joren was alarmed. "You don't mean ... he can't ... he wouldn't kill himself, would he?"

The Chamber/Joren shrugged. "It has happened before. Some men decide that they can't live with themselves once they are forced to face up to their crimes and misdeeds. The Dark God always has a special place awaiting them."

Joren whispered, "Is that where I will go, too?"

The Chamber did not answer him.

A/N: Please continue to R & R. Thanks!