So that I don't accidentally plagiarize, I never read fanfiction while writing some myself. But sometimes it's hard.
Kerchen frowned as he held up a small door ornament of a berry bush.
"Is this appropriate for a Midwinter gift? Is it too little? For classes to be cancelled, Midwinter seems very important."
Dieder shrugged. "It's the thought that counts, yea? Looks good t'me." Kerchen turned it over some more and then put it back on the wooden hook, much to Dieder's dismay.
"Agin? Yer too picky," he complained, lagging as Kerchen led the way down the street. The colorful canopies of the stands were now coated with a layer of snow, but the cold did little to dampen the liveliness of the market. It had scared him half to death when he'd first arrived, but Kerchen now found the din calming-the Collegium was too secluded. Before Alvira, he had always been moving, roaming from one place to other for Father Goroch. Certainly there was Companion's Field, but given Alvira's obsession with running he must have looped every inch of that place twenty times over by now. Kerchen couldn't help but sigh at the thought. Along with the workouts in the weapons class, he was surprised that he still managed to get up every morning.
"This is my first time buying a gift, so I want to do it right. What about that tea stand she sent us to?"
"I'd bet money she already tried every tea they have." Dieder mulled this thought over again, as though he had just said something wrong. "But I think she'd like it if ya got 'er a tea she already likes. Ya remember any?" Kerchen thought this over.
"Well, that last day before I left, there was this tea that tasted like..." Tasted like what? Nothing he knew by name. Dieder had tried it too, but he shrugged when Kerchen looked to him inquisitively."Herbs? Something sweet...something spicy-I'm sure if we smell their teas, we will find it eventually."
"Oh boy. I dun like the sound o' that." Dieder groaned, but followed anyway. As they made their way through the streets, a commotion at one of the stands caught Kerchen's attention. A handful of people had stopped to stare, though they were all trying to pretend otherwise.
"You want silver for this? You must be out of your mind, peasant!" A boy dressed in heavy fur-lined brocades sneered at a peddler, who was also well-dressed but not quite so extravagantly. The boy tossed a trinket onto the ground. The merchant promptly scrambled for it, fuming at him as he got up.
"With all due respect m'lord, this brooch is a fine artisanal work. Though the materials are bronze and glass, the craftsmanship alone is worth a silver royal!"
"What nonsense this man spews! I've seen dozens of works like this before-it hardly merits two coppers," a girl added loftily from behind her fan. Dieder followed Kerchen's line of sight and gave a grunt.
"Hah, nobles. They've got no eye for goods at all. I saw this one hoot the other day, spent three times that much fer the same thin'-it's pretty funny, watcha think?"
"I know those nobles. They are Blue Unaffiliates at the Collegia," Kerchen remarked, watching the argument unfold. Rahlen Poitregas, Shendelle Fairtheld, Larav Orthallen, Jedeth Levalen-all highborn, though only Fairtheld and Orthallen are senior aristocratic households. They often crossed the Palace gardens and spoke of nothing but trivial matters.
"M'lord, this is truly the final, final price I can offer without a loss," the merchant said, a desperate edge coloring his exasperation. "If it still displeases you, then you need not buy it." Rahlen scoffed.
"A poor merchant and a liar as well! You shouldn't even be peddling," he laughed, and, with a single, well-accessorized hand, tipped over the table of wares, showering the red-faced merchant with all his ornaments. Kerchen frowned. This behavior is unacceptable.
Dieder cringed. "Wat an ass. It's 'cause they're highborn. Ain't anythin' you kin do, 'less ya want trouble knockin' on yer-uh, Ker'?" His head swiveled for his companion, and his face fell as he found said companion in the heart of the ruckus.
"Bullying is wrong." Kerchen faced Rahlen, whose coterie turned to stare at him with shock and disgust. He ignored the looks, along with Dieder's repetitious groans of "Kernos' tits!" behind him. "Clean up your mess, Rahlen Poitregas." A strange silence descended on them as Rahlen regarded him with an incredulous expression. The wicked amusement that was a commoner's only safeguard between them and a noble's wrath shriveled under Kerchen's returned gaze.
"Who do you think you are?" Rahlen began, slowly. "Don't think you can talk to me like that just because you're wearing a Trainee's costume. No matter what you throw on yourself, you're still just a Border peasant."
"No one is above fixing their own mistakes," Kerchen replied. "That man already said you did not need to buy it-if the price were truly poor, you need only find a better merchant. What you did was entirely unnecessary, a child throwing a tantrum. You are too old for that behavior to be acceptable." A few gasps swept through the crowd, and Rahlen, sensing their eyes on him, smothered the flash of anger on his face. He let a great sigh and spread his arms.
"What gall you Greys have!" he exclaimed, waving a hand in exasperation. "As though your whole Circle were not living off our money! You Trainees are like babes, like dogs, eating out of us taxpayers' palms. We feed you so that you might defend us from Karse, not so that you can be a thorn in our sides." Kerchen frowned at the ill reference to his mother country but let it slide.
"Wrong things are wrong, whether they happen with Karse or within Valdemar. You must think because money you have, you are above the law."
"The law? Listen to yourself, making a mountain of a hill-"
"You will not leave until you pick it up."
"Oh, certainly, make me," he laughed, shoving Kerchen's shoulder as he walked past. Alvira stirred in the back of his mind, her rising anxiety matching his rising anger.
:Chosen, don't-: But he knew what he had to do. Who did this boy think he was? Father Goroch would never have tolerated this impertinence, and neither would he. The former assassin grabbed Rahlen's shoulder and shoved him back, using such force that the boy ended up on the ground, bewildered by the turn of events.
"You will stay until-"
"Hahaha! Just kiddin'!" Dieder jumped in and flung himself between him and Rahlen, pushing Kerchen back as far as he could. "Sorry m'lord, my friend's just had a bad day-I'll take care o' this, no worries! Really, really sorry, truly sorry, we're really sorry about this mess! What a scene, how embarrassin'-embarrassing!" Kerchen watched on in a kind of horror as his friend prostrated himself to the highborn brat. Has he no sense of shame?
"Dieder, get out of-" But Dieder's foot ramming into his toe cut him off, giving Rahlen enough time to pick himself off the ground and recloak himself in his prideful aura.
Jedeth nodded with approval. "At least someone around here knows the proper way of things," he noted, and he grabbed Rahlen's arm. "Come, we have other events to attend to." Rahlen was smoldering but consented to Jedeth's suggestion. Kerchen glared at him with similar resentment, but since Dieder and the merchant had hastily finished tidying up most of the mess, Kerchen had already lost his opportunity to punish him. As Rahlen's coterie disappeared into the thicket of the market, Kerchen directed his anger at Dieder.
"What do you think you are doing! That Rahlen-"
"No, whaddya think yer doing!" Dieder yelled, shoving a finger at him. "If those nobles point their noses at you yer gunna be in real trouble then!"
"What, so I should tolerate this because the nobles I fear? There is no justice, no honor in that-"
"Ah to all hells with that! And Lady Bright fart on yer honor-"
"-Now what does that even-"
"Y'know what'll happen to you-y'know what, forget that-ya think it'd do this hawker's business any good if ya made 'im the guy what had one o' those nobles stripped down?"
"Excuse me lad, I'm not a hawker-"
"'e's gonna git marked, that's what! Ya leave 'em alone, they might buy somethin' later, but make 'n enemy outta them, they're gonna remember you and they're not comin' back, and neither are their friends! Or they'll come back but not to buy anythin', fer sure! Not all of us are sum hotshot knifin' vagrant that kin do whatever 'e wants like you, and think about that before ya land us in real hot water!" Despite that Kerchen was still sure he was right, Dieder made a strong argument. It was not always a good thing to bring attention to yourself-he had had to exercise his patience countless times before, waiting for the right time to strike, even enduring Werda so that he could learn Valdemaran. Perhaps this was simply neither the time nor place. After all, a merchant lived off business-if he valued his business more than his pride, Kerchen was not doing him a favor by raising a scene at his stand. I would rather lose everything I own before I let someone treat me so unfairly, but perhaps these Valdemarans have different priorities.
:Life isn't fair, Chosen,: Alvira said haughtily. :Often what you think of as just gets in the way of what's right.:
:What you're saying sounds pithy, but what is just is what is right. It's simply that since the victim himself did not want to be helped, I have no right to pursue the matter by myself.: Yes, it did not make sense that someone who has done wrong should receive punishment lighter than his crime. Kerchen had once made a similar mistake-the first time Father Goroch had given him a mission to kill someone. As Father Goroch had said, the reason why justice seems so harsh is because their punishment must match their crime. If they kill, then justice is killing them. Why should what was "right" be any different?
:That's too naïve,: she scoffed, though her voice carried a tinge of uncertainty. He waited for her to continue, but her silence indicated the end of the conversation. Did it mean she agreed with him? Kerchen suspected there was something more. It wasn't the first time he'd felt that way, but he wondered if he was imagining that hint of...nervousness.
As Kerchen tried to puzzle out her reaction, the merchant finished sorting his trinkets and graciously extended a hand to Kerchen. "Thank you, m'lad. Though you were causing a scene, I know you meant well." Kerchen took the hand, a bit quizzically as it was not a custom he often practiced.
"If I have inconvenienced you, I am sorry."
"Hah!" The merchant put his hands in his sleeves, ostensibly regaining his usual posture for business. "Well, if it weren't for you Trainees, I'd wonder what today's youth has come to. As a token of my appreciation, would you like something, m'lad? Name it and it's yours, free of charge." Dieder leaned over Kerchen's shoulder, suddenly interested in the conversation. He nudged Kerchen's arm, pointing to a polished copper buckle.
"That one there, Ker'-that one's mighty shiny!" Kerchen regarded him with a bemused look. What use would I have for a buckle, Dieder?
:Right, don't listen to him,: Alvira interjected, :The silver chain next to it is way better.: He didn't know how he felt about their sudden change of attitude at the sight of free things.
"Thank you, but as I did not help you, I have no right to accept a gift," Kerchen replied instead, to the disappointment of his companions.
As Kerchen walked on in search of a gift, he took no note of his two mentors only a few paces away.
"Oh Lord and Lady," Hannan gasped, hands to his head in case it rolled off. "What's happened? What do I do?"
:No need to dramatize, Chosen. It looks like the matter's resolved itself,: Erron's ear flicked. He looked suspiciously like he would be yawning if he could. Hannan watched the crowd disperse, with vague mutterings of "Kids" and "He deserved it" speckled throughout.
Eldren laughed. "Everything seems to be the end of the world to you, doesn't it?" He offered Hannan his paper cone of roasted nuts. "Did you see what the commotion was about?"
"Er, no? No, no, I didn't...no." Did I add too many nos?
:Maybe one or two.:
But Eldren didn't seem to notice, or more likely just decided to leave Hannan alone. "What are you buying Alys?"
"Oh, maybe a small bauble or something-" Hannan paused. "Why do you assume that I'm only buying a present for Alys? I've saved enough for my family, you know-"
"Well you're only agonizing about hers, right?"
"Uh." Hannan felt that he should be denying this, if only it weren't true.
:Close your mouth. You're already an open book, no need to have your jaw hanging open too.:
:Hey, now-er-you be quiet.: "Well, uh, I already know the kinds of things my family likes, so.."
"Of course." Something gleamed in Eldren's eye. "Hey Hannan, you know what I think would be a neat present?"
"What?" Hannan followed Eldren's gaze to an accessories stand whose vendor was redundantly straightening her wool scarves. "You're right, something to keep her warm in the winter-but didn't she make a scarf already?" His friend raised an eyebrow.
"If you're talking about that tube-shaped pillow that she tried to wrap around her neck that made her look like a homeless jester but she abandoned because she almost choked to death, then yes, she did. In any case, don't you think Midwinter would be the perfect opportunity to go a bit further?"
"Er, so a hat-"
"Don't be coy, Hannan, I'm not playing that game at the moment," Eldren said impishly. "You should tell her your feelings. Think, what would be a more romantic night to confess than on the eve of the Midwinter Festival?"
"W-whoa, wait, wait a second-what are you-haha?" Hannan's nervous spewing was met with only a sigh.
"I'm not sure why you keep acting surprised like this. You know every Grey except Alys knows your romantic affliction." He popped another nut into his mouth, and Hannan got the impression that the chewing had therapeutic value to Eldren. "You know what's your problem? You don't have any experience with girls. Probably never dated, never kissed, even never flirted."
"Hey, that's not so weird-"
"It wasn't weird when you first came here from your farm. By now, however, after being surrounded by the nicest girls in Valdemar for a whole two years you should have at least had one roll in the sack." Eldren eyed him up and down. "Look, you still blush at the idea." He then laughed openly, much to Hannan's embarrassment.
:He's right, you know. If you're a virgin much longer, they might send you to a monastery instead.:
:I don't see how any of this is relevant,: Hannan retorted heatedly.
"I can't blame you entirely," Eldren continued, "since you did like Alys very early on, so I suppose other girls didn't interest you. You're a dashing young lad, Hannan. If you were willing, at least half the Trainees would have come to your bed without a second thought." Eldren, I can't decide whether you sound like a lecherous old man or a peddler. Both were bad, anyway. "You know what you need? Practice. See that girl over there? She looks pretty bored, probably wouldn't mind playing the game with a guy like you."
"W-what? Are you telling me to flirt with her?"
"It'll be good for you. Besides, she won't remember you by the end of the week, so no worries if you mess up." Hannan groaned. Easy for you to say. You probably lived your whole life surrounded by women. Besides his mother, Hannan's closest female companion growing up was Nessie, and all she could do was moo. Apparently oblivious to Hannan's continued discomfort, Eldren shoved him right into the stand, causing the girl to turn around. She greeted the bewildered Hannan with a big, open smile.
"Heyla, sir! Is there anything you need?" Now that he had regained his footing, he was able to get a better look at her. Big, blue eyes and ringlets of brown hair falling on her shoulders-she was hardly unattractive by any means, but it only compounded his nervousness. She stared at him, smiling, waiting patiently for him to say something.
"Er...well, I came to, um-er, buy a scarf-" This cued a quick kick in the knee from Eldren. "I mean, how are you doing today?" And in the ensuing debacle, Hannan had forgotten all about his ward's encounter with the Blues.