Disclaimer: As usual, not mine. Song is 'Rain' by the fabulous Alanis Morissette. No idea what it sounds like in original format, but it has fantastic lyrics (which I've messed around with).

A/N: In the words of Stacey (who apparently comes with her own fan club, which I can quite believe): "Eugh. Why, oh why, can't they just sleep together? WHY?" You see my friends, every time the characters come close to having a 'moment', that little thing called conscience kicks in. Would you really want to read about the POTS cast if they didn't have morals? Wait, don't answer that…

Anyway, thank you for your most gratifying response to chapter seven (topped 100 reviews and it's only 7 chapters long!), and I will apologise now for the clichéd character death - she was getting in the way, and quite frankly, I like her better dead. Sadistic? Moi? But really, there's a teensy bit of plot creeping into my story and it's very worrying - since when did romance require a plot?!

Demented Dreamer - I was getting there! Don't worry, I do have plans for Dom which I hope he will be happy with. However, seeing as this is primarily K/N, I'm focusing on them for the majority of the fic. As for Cleon, yes, he is already knighted - I made a reference to "The tall, redheaded knight…" in chapter 3.

Incidentally, although I am quite fond of Ermelian (for all that she is a court lady and prone to hysterics), wouldn't you be a little bit put out if one of you betrothed's so-called friends started beating him up?

Cobweb - *cackles* over-reacting, much? But I'm glad you were impassioned enough to start screaming obscenities at me!


Halley - Now would Cleon do a thing like that? *snickers* Actually, surprisingly, I'm not a member of Cleon-haters anonymous so Murderer!Cleon isn't looking too likely!

Stacey - I found that they more often killed off Cleon if they were going for a hurt/comfort angle on the whole romance thing (presumably having Neal cry like a girl wouldn't add much to their fantasies of his gorgeous manliness *spasms*).

Mmmm…Stuart Townsend…so good even my guy friends find him hot…*snickers*

Storm Clouds

Neal could hear her doing that gods cursed glaive dance again, and he muttered a whole string of expletives as his will to resist crumbled. Rising gracefully, he pulled on his shirt, tucking it haphazardly into breeches that were too big for him, before running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make himself slightly more presentable. Not that it matters. He thought, bitterly. Kel had seen his at his very worst, crying like some hysterical court lady when he was to take the Ordeal of Knighthood in a week.

"Morning," he said, stifling a yawn. It really was too early for this, but as he had discovered on numerous summer camps with Kel, she was prone to dawn awakenings.

Before she even replied, Neal could tell that there was something wrong. Kel jumped, nearly dropping her practice glaive in surprise.

"Morning," she replied calmly, keeping her back turned on him, and leaning against her weapon like a staff. Kel wasn't clumsy, and she certainly wasn't easy to startle.

"Kel, is there something wrong?" a brief flash of worry crossed his mind - what if she took offence at his actions last night? He had only wanted to make up for asking such an invasive question, though the answer had been worth it. If she didn't know for certain whether she had been in love with Cleon, then chances were that she hadn't. A slight feeling of self-disgust came over him, but Neal pushed it away.

Kel shook her head and rose her glaive, preparing to start another sequence, but Neal darted forward and spun her around with a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and backed up to the wall. Neal frowned; her reticence to let him touch her had not escaped his notice, either now or the night before. "Why can't you stand to be near me any more?" he asked quietly, knowing there was defeat in his voice. Has this something to do with Yuki? Neal wondered as he scrutinized Kel who stared back levelly, an impassive mask concealing all thoughts. Her stance was defensive, like she felt as if she was in danger from him. I would never hurt her. What has she to fear?

"Do you…remember what you dreamed about last night?" the question was tentative, and her voice barely audible in the distance between them.

"Why? Should I?" Neal was completely lost. The conversation surely had a purpose, but he couldn't quite identify it.

She gave the barest shake of her head and tried to manoeuvre around Neal, but he threw out an arm and caught her around the waist. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about," absently he noticed how well Kel seemed to fit into the curve of his arm, and he looked down at her with an intense gaze. Neal was becoming more frustrated with the way Kel wouldn't confide in him unless he forced the information of her. They were meant to be friends - didn't that mean anything now?

"You were calling for her, Neal." something akin to pity was directed at him from darkened hazel depths. His mouth formed an 'O' of surprise and he reflexively tightened his hold on Kel, trying desperately to remember what in Mithros' name the dream had been about. It shouldn't have shocked him; Yuki had, after all, been on his mind since…was it really only yesterday? It seemed like eternities had past since he had found her.

"Gods…" he breathed, closing his eyes against the onslaught of images that sought to overcome him.

There had been so much blood; he had never seen so much…rivulets of scarlet running through cracks in the flagstones, its coppery scent lacing the air like the sweet smoke of a funeral parlour.

He was on his knees then, hands stained incriminatingly, throat raw from screaming. And Kel had arrived, her very presence calming him as nothing else could. Neal didn't know what she had said during those few minutes when all that existed was pain and her embrace, and he doubted that Kel did either. It didn't matter - it wasn't the words, but the tone: soothing, like one would talk to a frightened animal.

There was a clang of metal on stone as Kel's glaive hit the floor, blade first. Neal's eyes snapped open and to his embarrassment, he found that, unconsciously, he had shifted grip on Kel. One arm was curled possessively around her waist, and the other snaked diagonally across her back.

Looking down to see what reaction she would have to that, Neal caught a glimmer of silver which inspired him to tilt Kel's chin upwards. She wouldn't meet his eyes as he stared at her wonderingly. It wasn't like when he had seen court ladies cry - for all their grace and shallow beauty, tears made their faces blotchy and their eyes red. It was as if a statue wept, tears rolling down her smooth, blank façade.

Of course, why didn't I think about it? Kel and Yuki had been best friends for years, yet Neal had paid her barely any heed when his own misery had taken precedence. How much more selfish can I be?

Impulsively, Neal leant down and kissed away a tear, their contact lasting a few frozen seconds before Kel pulled away, wide-eyed. "You should go - breakfast - people will…talk…."

He nodded and backed away, trying to decide whether to apologise or not. No, Neal thought resolutely, because I'm not sorry.

************

The hospital wing basked in the reassuring quiet of research. Neal had spent many afternoons there with his Knight-Mistress as she explained the fundamentals of various healing arts, and in comparison to the turmoil of the palace proper, this familiarity calmed him.

"Neal,"

He turned to look at the speaker. "Hello, Father," ignoring the question in his father's green eyes, Neal opened a large chest in a corner of the office where his possessions were being temporarily stored and withdrew his only set of black mourning clothes.

"Where were you last night?"

"Does it matter?" he didn't particularly relish the thought of telling his father the truth, as in hindsight, it had been rather foolish to accept Kel's offer. Not that I regret it.

Duke Baird sighed in frustration. "Neal, you never think, do you? That young lady has little enough reputation among the conservatives as it is, simply for living and working with men; your actions will ensure that she has even less."

"She doesn't care what the conservatives think, and anyway, she suggested it."

"And you accepted,"

Neal glared at the older man, arms folded across his chest. "Kel doesn't have her parents at court, and Lalasa is too involved with her business to spare her much time. What would you have me do?" though he couldn't admit it to himself, Neal knew that it was more to aid himself than Kel that he stayed with her. Kel was the element of rationality in his life that put things in perspective.

"Kel is a strong girl - she will manage." Duke Baird's voice was reasonable, but his words were not.

"She's not as strong as you think," Neal muttered, gathering his belongings and stalking out of the room.

************

After he had washed and changed, the prospect of breakfast seemed even less appealing than it had earlier. For one thing, there was facing the crowds in the mess hall; news of his and Yuki's relationship had been common knowledge whilst it existed, and a topic for gossip once it had ended. Neal knew that this was only because of his own status - as the only son of a Duke, particularly Chief Healer of the Realm, he was a much vaunted prize.

Although they had lost contact after Yuki had left, breaking off their relationship on the last night of the Progress, he had thought about her often, with a sort of affectionate, bittersweet fondness.

It was the night the violins played,
And we were standing in the pouring rain

She had been, after all, his first love, and Neal regretted with all his heart that they had parted on such painful terms. Especially now.

If I had known it was the last time I would see you again...
I would change everything...

"We are too similar, you and I," The scene of that night came unbidden to his mind, and Neal sank into the memory.

Her hands were nervously smoothing the folds of her delicate fan as they stood side by side on the balcony overlooking an expanse of garden. Neal was just as ill at ease, though he said nothing to Yuki. Lately their relationship had degenerated somewhat, and he suspected that it was the fault of his ongoing education in the healing arts. Lady Alanna demanded more time than Neal wished to give; time that could be spent with Yuki who obviously resented his lack of attention. "Whatever it is, Yuki, please just say it." deep down, he knew what she was having trouble telling him, but he wanted to hear it for himself. Perhaps it would provide some sort of closure.

Yuki wouldn't even look at him then, instead turning to look out at the crescent moon that lit the sky. She was as beautiful and elegant as he had ever seen her, and yet Neal's only regret was that he had never really gotten to know Yuki as well as he wished. Yamanis, she had told him once when he made this observation to her, never revealed themselves to anyone in great depth - not even their closest family.

"There is a saying in the Isles: Nothing ever ends, it only begins." she murmured quietly, and Neal knew that was all he was going to get from her. Everything about the Yamani people was subtle and they skirted around issues that needed to be addressed using politeness as justification.

"Will you be returning to Corus with the Princess?"

Yuki shook her head, her ebony hair glinting with silver from the moonlight. "I will return to Yaman for a time - I very much wish to see my family again."

He suspected that it was an excuse on her part, but Neal wasn't about to complain. It would be difficult enough forgetting about their relationship without seeing her at every turn - courting other men, as he presumed Yuki would eventually do. It was cold conclusion to his first real relationship.

"Fine," Neal said darkly, turning his back on her and starting to walk away towards the warmth and music of the ballroom. "That's absolutely fine."

It turned out that those were the last words he ever said to Yuki; marred by frustration and hurt. All he could hope now was that she had found it in herself to forgive him before her death.

I look through the broken glass I watch the storm go through my mind,
There's so much I had to say, I know the words I left behind.


As he was wandering aimlessly through the maze of corridors, Neal didn't notice where he was going until his traitorous footsteps brought him to his own door. It was exactly the same as it had been for the last four years - sturdy and unornamented oak with a cold steel handle that silently taunted Neal to face the room beyond.

And now I'm caught in a daydream with nowhere to run and hide,
The world rushes by me, it's leaving me here all alone.

There was nothing left in his chambers to suggest that anything out of the ordinary had taken place, and Neal strode across the room to look out of the window at the storm that battered against the glass.

Minstrels sang about days like this, when battles were fought, and lives were lost, and Kings and commoners alike mourned for the dead. Would they mourn for Yuki today?


I would change everything, but I can't do anything,
I would give all that I have to know where you are.

"I thought I might find you here," Neal didn't reply, choosing instead to relish the view that he would certainly never see from this window again. The room overlooked a particularly verdant part of the Queen's Garden, chosen especially by Lady Alanna for 'inspiration' as she - like most others at court - had heard about his tendency to write poetry incessantly.

I'll always carry you inside my heart,
And I always knew that you would take a part of me away with you.

"Everyone is worried about you," a hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Neal raised an eyebrow at his cousin.

"By everyone, I presume you mean Kel,"

Dom nodded. "She told me where to find you."

"She didn't know," he answered dully. The fact that Kel had sent Dom instead of coming herself disappointed him. She always knows where I am. His mind supplied helpfully, prompting a slight inner smile.


At night I hear your voice and it is calling out my name,
And with every hour just hold on to what you can

"It's torture for her too, Neal. And worse, because she feels responsible for you. Kel knows you aren't in any fit state to do anything at the moment - not even be left alone." Dom's tone was accusing, and though it made him angry, Neal couldn't fault the truth in his words. In their friendship, Kel had always been emotionally stronger, hiding her feelings behind an impenetrable mask.

That night is just a memory,
But I still feel you standing next to me

"I know. Where is she?" it was more a matter of curiosity than necessity that he wanted to find out. Neal didn't think that his friend would welcome his company again that day, not after their earlier encounter.

"Practice courts. Outdoor practice courts." Dom replied, biting off the words angrily. "She wouldn't listen to reason. Said something about how the cold makes her think better."

Neal laughed harshly. He had heard about how Buri had found Kel trying to shoot a Yamani longbow in knee-deep snow last year, all because she had needed a place to 'think'. Absently, he wondered what weapon she'd have chosen this time.


And when I think I hear your voice, all I hear is the rain...

Although I really shouldn't ask any more from my fabulous reviewers…I will *snickers* So, tell me what was good and bad, and even what you'd like to see happen, though I'm making no promises on that count.