A/N: So I realized that I haven't done this at all, and probably should, at least once:
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce! Not me, if they did belong to me, I probably wouldn't be on FFN, now would I?
Thanks to: RandomPerson3.14 (Even though that review was for chapter 11, also hehehe pi! Yes, I'm a math person) andNinjaGirl012.
Francesca, thankfully, did not encounter her brother until the Sunday before the Mid-Winter holiday. She was just returning from the stables when she ran into her brother, quite literally, as she turned a corner. It was clear that neither had expected to see the other, and stood for quite some time in awkward silence, looking at each other. It was Adalia, Fredrick's wife, who broke the silence. She expressed pleasure at seeing Francesca, surprise at seeing her at the palace and her clothes, Francesca wore breeches and a tunic.
Francesca greeted Adalia with equal warmth, and explained why she was there. "I was just coming from the stables," she told them. "I wanted to check on Snowstorm, my horse; riding has been suspended for the past few weeks." At Adalia's confused look, Francesca suppressed a sigh; of course Fredrick hadn't said anything. "I'm in page training, you see," she chatted on, benignly. She saw the shock on Adalia's face. Disappointment swamped her then, she didn't know why she always let things like her family acting the way she expected disappoint her. Perhaps, Francesca mused to herself. It is just a hidden hope that my family will change. If so, then I need to get over it. She quickly made an excuse, and fled, feeling depressed.
Later that evening, she was reading in her room, as night fell, the bottom shutters were open, and Rain, in a show of affection, or ownership – she was never sure which – lay in her lap, dozing. She thought of writing to Alan or Fianola, both of whom had been out in the field since the week after the pages training resumed, but she couldn't think of anything to say to either at the moment. Several weeks ago, they had written that their respective knight-master would be returning to the palace for Mid-Winter – Sir Raoul because the king ordered him and Sir Nealan because he wanted to be near his father, when his wife gave birth to their first child. As the light began to fail, Francesca considered getting up to light an extra lamp, when Rain rocketed out of her lap without warning.
His action surprised her enough, that Francesca stood slowly and lit a new lamp, cautiously watching the window the entire time. Peering out, she saw Rain watching something around the corner of the pathway that leads into the courtyard. She debated going to see what Rain was staring at so intently, when her question was answered in the form of two men turning the corner. Francesca relaxed very slightly; one of the men was Alan, she had no clue whom the other was. He was clearly older than Alan, and they seemed to know each other fairly well. She guessed they were related. Glancing back to where Rain hid in the shadows, she realized that he was watching the long sleeve of the second man's mage's robe, readying himself to pounce.
You've got to be kidding, she thought with disgust. If she didn't know better she'd say that Rain was just a large house cat. With a sigh she leaned out the window and fixed the bobcat with her fiercest glare. "Don't you dare," she told him sternly. "You are not a house cat to attack string and such when every you see it!" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the surprised expression on Alan and his companions' face. When Alan realized who she was talking to he laughed, and moved to pick up the bobcat, who was now acting very innocent. Francesca shook her head in disgust, and turned to study the other man more closely. He was taller than Alan, and instead of reddish-blonde hair, the man's hair was as bright red as Alan's famous mothers'. In the growing shadows, it was hard to tell the man's eye color.
"I believe this is yours," Alan told her chuckling, holding up Rain by the scruff. The bobcat let out a pitiful sound, trying to get sympathy. "Nice try," Alan told him with a snort. "Stop pretending."
"Let that poor creature go!" A very authoritative voice ordered. Recognizing it, Francesca put her face in her hands. Looking up, the scene was what she expected. Aisha was scolding Alan for his 'mistreatment' of 'an innocent creature'. It was all Francesca could to not to laugh. Alan was clearly shocked and unsure of what to do or say. Not that Aisha gave anyone a chance to say anything. Sighing, she swung out the window.
"Aisha, enough," she cut in as the other woman took a breath. "I know you did not call this miserable sack of fur 'innocent'," Francesca said as she took Rain from Alan, who looked comically relieved for the help. "You see, this is why I didn't want to introduce you to my friends here," she teased her oldest friend. "You terrify even a squire who serves with the King's Own as the Knight Commander's squire."
When Aisha realized what she'd said, she blushed. She performed a very pretty curtsy and made an even prettier apology. Shaking her head, Francesca made introductions.
"Aisha of King's Reach, may I present, my friend, Alan of Pirate's Swoop. Alan this is Lady Aisha, she is the friend I told you about a few times. Francesca ignored Alan's response, studying the taller red-haired man, there was something about him that tugged on the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe she was just weary because he was a mage of undetermined power.
She tuned in enough to hear Alan introduce the other man as his older brother, Thom. Francesca felt herself stiffen. She remembered Alan telling the group about his brother, who was a mage strong enough that he might one day be Master Numair's equal. And she was now standing not ten feet from this mage.
She'd thought that she had hidden how uncomfortable she was, but clearly Aisha had seen it, as her friend proceeded to ensure that there was no chance that the attention of the two men would wavier from her. Aisha had always had a gift of being the center of attention; it had never bothered Francesca, because it meant that when she was with her friend, she could fade into the background. Taking the offered chance, Francesca slipped away and back into her room, she hesitated before shutting her large shutters, not wanting to leave Aisha alone, even if she knew that she'd be fine. Her dilemma was solved when Rain left her to sit at Aisha's feet, feeling less guilty; Francesca closed the large shutters and decided to do a few exercises for her arms.
While Aisha talked – and flirted – with the two men Francesca had stopped her from scolding – the Lioness's sons! – She watched Francesca slip away out of the corner of her eye, not surprised in the least. Francesca had always been cautious around mages, she had even let many of the snottier lady's at the convent believe that she had a fear of magic. It both amazed and intrigued her when Squire Alan causally mentioned Francesca's shyness, when his brother finally noted her disappearance. What shocked her more is when he winked at her and said; "Francesca left the second you started to draw all the attention. Did you two do that a lot?"
It startled her enough, that she laughed and told him honestly. "Of course, when Francesca and I first met she was such a wallflower. It's been my goal ever since to get her to blossom into a social butterfly."
"She may have regressed since coming to page training," he responded with a laugh.
When she returned to her room later, Aisha was still pondering the fact that Alan had noticed Francesca's exit. Part of her wanted to be insulted – she wasn't used to not having someone's full attention when that is what she sought. A slightly bigger part, wondered if Francesca might have someone interested in her, or just a good friend.
Deciding that the only way to know for sure was to watch both very closely – and interrogate Francesca later – Aisha went to sleep.
The next morning Francesca went through her usual routine, she went for a run, and did some weapons practice. At breakfast she chatted with her friends, as she was leaving the mess hall, so was Alan.
"Hey, will you do me a favor?" She asked.
"What," he asked, sounding amused.
"I'm going to be waiting on court ladies, tonight," she told him, making a face. When he started to ask how she knew, Francesca just gave him a look. "Anyway, since you don't have to serve tonight, can you talk to them, so that they won't pay attention to me?"
Alan teased her about being afraid of court ladies, but agreed in the end.
Later that evening, Francesca watched from a corner, as a handsome squire flirted with a group of court ladies, they paid her – a lowly page – no mind as she served them food, and slipped away. She was about to return with the next course, when the squire who had been flirting with the ladies stopped her.
"Why again did you seem so panicked when you asked me to distract them?" Alan asked, looking wickedly amused.
"Because, I know many of those ladies," she drawled, eye the table of women in question, not bothering to contradict the claim that she'd been panicked, though she hadn't been. "Plus, this was I have introduce Aisha to some of my friends at the palace, and she won't fuss at me about it."
Alan just laughed, "Lord Raoul is having a small party tomorrow evening," he told her. "Come to it and I'll introduce you to the Lady Knight, she's going to be there."
"Which lady knight," she asked him.
"Both."
"Well," she responded breezily, "since you begged me so pitifully to come, how can I say no?" Alan snorted and left.
The next afternoon, Francesca was passing the time with her page friends, when Aisha, after much searching, found Francesca. She dragged her friend a little ways away before excitedly telling her about small a party that she insisted the both of them go to.
As Aisha described the party, Francesca was highly amused. When Aisha finished, Francesca stared at her, amused. "Ironically enough, I was already invited to that party," she told her friend.
"What! How, by whom?" Aisha demanded in delight.
"Alan, Lord Raoul's squire, invited me," Francesca told her. "He was that squire you were flirting with over dinner last night."
"Hmmm," was all Aisha said a speculative look in her eyes. "Do you have a dress?" Aisha demanded.
"Why would that matter?" Francesca snorted.
"Well, I certainly don't plan to be the only woman there in a dress," Aisha told her in a logical voice. "If you wear a dress, then I know that I won't be. So, do you have a dress?"
Francesca explained to her friend that there was no way that she would wear a dress to the party. The two argued about it for the rest of the afternoon, until it was time for Francesca and the other pages to report to Master Oakbridge. Francesca was certain of one thing; there was no way that she was wearing a dress tonight.
So, naturally, later that night, Francesca found herself wearing the dress she'd ordered from Lalasa's dress shop the summer of her first-year. She was a bit disgruntled that Aisha had talked her into the dress, and still confused as to how exactly that had happened.
Francesca felt awkward as she stood in a corner watching knight, squires, members of the King's Own and the Queen's Riders. She moved towards the window, staring out of it, she wondered if she should just leave. The vision crept up on her.
She watched the couple as they walked through the garden; they laughed and joked quietly, clearly enjoying the time they're spending together. In the darkness, and with the distance, it would have been hard, almost impossible to identify the pair, if one did not already know. That fact, coupled with the knowledge that few to no one knew, or expected that the two were courting, amused Francesca to no end.
Lady Knight Keladry, and the Sergeant, Francesca reflected to herself, made a good match.
As she blinked, and her senses returned and she discovered that she was no longer alone. A handsome, blue-eyed man, wearing the uniform of the King's Own smiled charmingly at her. Wearily, Francesca chatted with him, it was getting late, and the bell signaling lights out for pages would ring soon, and she didn't know how to escape the party.
Maybe, Francesca thought, equal parts bitter and annoyance. Maybe, I should have paid more attention to the proper social interaction lessons.
She let her gaze wonder the room, and as she glanced back to her companion, she realized that he was looking at someone else. Not in the least bit offended, but feeling highly amused, Francesca asked him.
"Sergeant Domitan, may I ask, why are you talking to me, when it is clear that you'd prefer to be talking to the lady knight?" Francesca motioned slightly to where Lady Keladry could be seen across the room, talking with several knight.
The sergeant blinked in shock, a flushed slightly. Before he could reply, Francesca managed to escape to the hall, and set off for her room. She was exhausted.
The rest of the year passed in a blur. The only thing of interest that happened during the training camp that year, was when one boys spooked some of the horses and ended up with bruises, they had been lucky enough to escape broken bones. Then some time later, the same four boys ended up stumbling upon a fallen bee hive; the most peculiar incident, was when the boy's - Oswel of Irenroha – had all of his gear; tents, bed rolls, change of clothes, and the like, soiled. Later, Francesca overheard the Shang Wildcat, and Shang Horse wondering how and why the bobcat dung and piss ended up all over the page's stuff.
When the pages returned to the palace, over the next week, three of the new squires - Gian of Genlith, Hamrath of Runnerspring, and Lofren of Meron – all stumbled upon an irate bobcat, and spooked horses.
Near the end of the summer, Alan, at a time when the Own wasn't in the field, came to see Francesca. He found her practicing her sword work from horse back with Liam. When the two took a break, Alan mentioned the three squires and a single page, that all seemed to annoy a bobcat. He finished the comment with a pointed look at Rain, who was sleeping in a patch of shadows. Francesca said nothing, knowing that whether she denied involvement – her's and Rain's – she wouldn't be believed.
It wasn't until training started up the next year, that it truly occurred to Francesca: the day before training resumed, she'd turning eighteen, she was now a fourth-year page.
It was several months into training when Francesca had the first sign that her prophecy was closing in on her. As she was running an errand for a noble who'd seen her uniform, and clearly assumed that she'd have nothing better to do, she stumbled upon the wild mage, Daine and her husband, the mage Numair Salmalin. What drew her eye, was the infant that Daine was holding, both gazed at the child with the look of proud parents, normally Francesca would have fled at that point, but she also saw the person she'd been sent to deliver a message to.
She trembled slightly as she approached the group, thankfully, Daine saw her coming and greeted her warmly, if a bit tiredly. Sir Gareth the Younger, nodded to her, and she quickly delivered the message. With a sigh the Prime Minister left, muttering under his breath. As she was about to leave, Francesca shot one last look towards the child, and nearly choked – the small baby girl that currently slept peacefully. Though the child was much smaller, and quite a bit younger, this was one of the children she'd seen in her prophecy – the one the mage had bounced on his knee.
Not caring if either of the two adult standing there thought it strange, Francesca ran. She slowed when she was mildly convinced that she could relax. After that, Francesca threw herself into her training more than usual. Her final year as a page, seem to both be endless, and over in the blink of an eye.