I'm back with another chapter! This one fell into place surprisingly quickly, despite the fact that I had to rewrite the whole thing nearly from scratch after I realized I'd made a mistake with the timeline. Hope that's not an indication of how the whole thing goes.

All characters and locations that you recognize belong to Tamora Pierce.

Friends

Kellie's second day of page training was even harder than the first. Her stiff body protested as she put her feet on the floor, dressed, and washed her face with the water Tessa had brought her. She looked longingly at her painting of Queenscove on the wall. Uncle Dom is right, she thought wryly, anybody who tries for a knighthood must be a little bit mad.

Gritting her teeth against the soreness—she might have worked her body hard at home over the summer, but she was beginning to understand that that had been nothing compared to what her training would be—she pulled her practice naginata down from the wall, and forced herself through the most basic pattern dance she knew. Her movements were stiff and jerky, and the crow perched outside her window seemed to be mocking her with its caws, but by the time the seventh bell rang, she felt much better.

"Say, you don't look like you hurt too much," Rowan remarked at breakfast. He handed her a roll. Kellie debated throwing it at his head but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Besides, her empty belly wasn't going to feed itself.

She found that her morning classes were harder than they had been yesterday, because she had work through her soreness. At least, she thought, looking around at the other first years, they seemed to be doing no better than she was. Jarrod was stumbling every other step through the stances the Shang warriors were demonstrating.

"Look alive, new pages!" bellowed the Horse, bouncing lightly on his feet. "One day of training, and you've already had enough? You'll never be able to defend the realm in this state!"

Kellie groaned, but pushed herself to her feet.

Staff practice and archery were equally painful. Riding was slightly better, since Blaze was cooperative enough to follow her nudging without requiring too much effort, but when Kellie slid off the horse's broad back, she was unable to muffle the pathetic mewling sound that slipped from her lips. Saddle sore, she thought, biting her lip hard enough to distract herself. I got used to it when I was learning to ride Sunset, I can get used to it on Blaze. She squared her shoulders determinedly as she reached for her horse's brush, then winced. The action had jolted a previously unknown ache in her lower back.

The steaming hot water of the baths was a welcome relief after the morning's exertions. Kellie sank down into the tub with a sigh, feeling the heat ease the pain from her lessons.

The older girls watched her and Ulasu, who had much the same reaction, in barely-concealed amusement. "You won't always be this sore after morning lessons," Erynne promised. "As soon as your body gets used to the training, you'll feel better."

"How long?" Ulasu croaked out.

"Give it a month," drawled Mae, from the other side of the pool.

A whole month…? Kellie winced just thinking about being this stiff and sore for so long.

"Of course, that's when you'll begin sword and lance work," Astara continued, grinning wickedly, "and you'll be just as sore because you're practicing new things and moving differently." She laughed when Ulasu made a rude gesture at her. "Oh, it's not that bad."

"Tell me another," Kellie groaned.

"It really isn't, once you get used to it," Mae assured them.

Kellie was rather dubious of the older girls' claims. As a healer, she knew that yes, that was how the body worked—soreness was to be expected when learning a new exercise, and it would go away once the body adjusted. But the varying aches she could still feel as she scrubbed seemed likely to be her constant companions for some time.

"Say, I've been wondering," Ulasu remarked, running her fingers through her damp hair, "why do our instructors call us by our given names? I thought they'd use our fief names only."

Mae and Astara exchanged glances, chuckling. It was Astara who replied, "My first year as a page was Sir Merric's first year as training master. It was also my brother Edsell's last year as a page—he was my sponsor—and Sir Merric learned very quickly that he couldn't yell out 'Fenrigh' if he was only addressing one of us."

"Astara nearly got her arm broken because Sir Scarlet called 'Fenrigh! What are you doing with that lance?' when he was speaking to Edsell," Mae explained, "and Astara looked away from her horse at the wrong moment."

Kellie shuddered.

"After that," Astara went on, "he started using our given names, to lessen confusion."

Ulasu was snickering quietly. "'Sir Scarlet,' is it?"

Kellie was tempted to laugh at the nickname as well, but she was still wondering about something Astara had said. "Astara…"

The bespectacled girl looked over at her. "Yes?"

"You said you have three older brothers, right?" Astara nodded in reply, so Kellie continued, encouraged, "Is Edsell the oldest?"

"Oh, no," Astara responded swiftly, shaking her head. "Edsell is just before me, he's Mother and Father's third child, and I'm their fourth. My two oldest brothers, Payton and Daren, are practicing knights. Then there's Edsell, a third-year squire; me; Jarrod; and my sister Felisa—she's five." Astara frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if Lise will choose knighthood too."

"It does seem to run in your family," Erynne commented dryly.

As with the day before, the girls all began to dry off and dress when Mae went to braid her hair. Kellie hurriedly combed her long hair out with her fingers, hoping it would dry quickly.

"Do you want me to dry your hair for you?" asked a soft voice that Kellie recognized as Erynne's. She turned, finding the brunette standing just behind her, already dressed. "With magic, I mean," Erynne added when Kellie didn't reply right away.

Kellie nodded, and Erynne laid a hand softly on top of her head. It felt strange—Kellie wasn't used to people touching her head like that—but she held still, even as heat radiated down her neck. It only took a few minutes, and her hair was mostly dry. Kellie hurried to braid her long locks as Erynne stepped back, the fuchsia-colored fire around her hands fading.

"I could teach you the spell, if you like," Erynne offered, keeping pace with Kellie as they trotted up the hill. "It's simple; has to be, my Gift's not good for much else."

"Maybe later," Kellie answered. "My Gift isn't good for much except healing, so it'll likely take me some time to learn it if I can do it at all."

Erynne seemed satisfied with that. "May I call you Kel? Only Kelanna is something of a mouthful."

"Kel is my godsmother," Kellie replied apologetically. "But my family and friends call me Kellie—you can call me that too, if you'd like."

A broad smile stretched across Erynne's plain features, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. "Kellie, then. Rather unusual, but pretty. Were you named for your godsmother?"

"Yes," Kellie replied. "Her parents were diplomats in the Yamani Islands, and she became friends with Mama and the Crown Princess while she was living there. She met Papa when she entered page training the same year as him, after returning to Tortall; they've been friends ever since."

Erynne looked at her sharply. "Your godsmother is Keladry of Mindelan?"

Kellie nodded rapidly. Erynne looked thoughtful. "She's a wonderful warrior. I met her several years ago, when she was chasing bandits in the Dunlath valley. That was when I decided to try for my shield." It seemed likely that Erynne might have continued, but upon entering the dining hall she separated from Kellie to wait on the training master.

With her muscles soothed and her belly full, afternoon classes were a little easier. Kellie was grateful to be able to sit down. Master Marsden gave her another poem to read and write a report on. Master Valorian assigned her six more of the complicated mathematics problems, with another four as punishment for not finishing the ones assigned yesterday.

Sir Myles called on her during history to give her opinion on why Scanran dynasties only seemed to last for a generation or two—Kellie didn't have a very good answer for that. She'd been born in the year following the Scanran War, after Ranulf Dorvatten had been crowned king. He'd done a decent enough job keeping the clan lords under control since then, and his niece had wedded Prince Liam as part of the treaty terms, but Queenscove was so far south that Kellie had heard far more of Carthak and the Copper Isles than Scanra growing up.

By the time the sixth bell rang and she found her way to the dining hall, she was exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically, as Master Irial had drilled her on calling light to crystals for the entire bell. It was worth it, she decided, to see that emerald glimmer form in the depths of the clear quartz, but using that much magic had burned up whatever reserves she had had. She was hungry.

"You can slow down a bit, you know," a very amused Rowan teased as Kellie deposited spoonful after spoonful of food in her mouth, barely noticing what she was eating. "By the time it reaches the plate, the food no longer tries to run away from us."

Kellie responded with the rude gesture Ulasu had made earlier, too hungry to care about propriety. Far from being offended, Rowan roared with laughter, slapping his knee. "I knew I liked you!"

"Leave off, Ro," mumbled Pathom through a mouthful of beans. "Don't you know she's a mage? Using the Gift burns you up inside, I hear."

"It is true that constant use of magic can deplete your energy reserves," Cassius offered shyly. "My papa wrote a treatise on the subject a few years ago."

Kellie didn't bother responding to the boys, focusing instead on her plate.

Once the seventh bell rang, dismissing them from the dining hall, Kellie followed the general rush of pages to the library. An older boy she recognized as Toras of Rosemark grinned cheekily at her as she entered. "You wouldn't mind fetching a book for me, would you? The second volume on the Tortallan conquest of Barzun, if you please." He waved her off toward the shelves, still grinning.

Kellie did as she'd been asked, rolling her eyes slightly once she was out of sight. So this is the 'earning your way' custom, she thought to herself. Being sent for books wasn't so bad. She combed the shelves for the proper volume, reminding herself not to get distracted by all the knowledge contained within the covers.

So intent was she on retrieving the book Toras had asked for, she didn't realize she had company until the sound of a throat being cleared drew her attention to the end of the stack. Her heart sank as she recognized the boy who had sneered at her during sponsor selections. The light was poor back here, so she couldn't make out his eye color or his features, but his hair was dark and his face was drawn into a deep scowl.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kellie spotted the book she'd been looking for. Taking it down off the low shelf, she turned so her back was to the stacks and hugged the tome to her chest as she spotted the page named Hayden staring at her from the other end. His face was eerily blank, but his posture made it clear he was there to support his friend.

This was going to end in a fight, Kellie felt that certainty deep in her bones. She was trapped. Attempting to go either way would result in one of the older boys blocking her from escaping.

The scowling boy took a menacing step forward. Kellie turned and ran the other way, toward Hayden. As she'd expected, he moved to stop her, but she was closer to escape now than if she'd stayed in the middle of the row.

"Nowhere to run now, Yamani scut," sneered the boy whose name she didn't know. "Think you can walk around this palace like you're a real Tortallan? I'll teach you better."

He swung at her; Kellie threw herself to the side so his fist caught only empty air. Hayden didn't budge—his role appeared to simply be to keep her there. The first boy swung his fist again, catching Kellie in the shoulder. It hurt, she realized, unable to stop herself from letting out a cry of pain. She would no doubt have a fresh bruise there in the morning.

Hayden was still watching with an impassive expression, but the other boy let a triumphant grin show as he closed in on Kellie. "That's right, cower, little savage. You don't have any right to act like a true Tortallan. Maybe you should've thought of that before. Run back to the Islands while you can."

"Oh, is that how it is?" drawled a voice Kellie recognized as belonging to her sponsor. Rowan shoved Hayden aside none too gently, in time to see the other boy land a kick to Kellie's thigh. She swatted at him with the thick book she was holding, not sure how much good it would do but needing to do something to fight back. Rowan grabbed the boy's arm as he drew it back to deliver another punch. "That's enough, Sydrian of Torhelm. Unless you want to get in trouble for fighting, you'll stop now, before a servant hears a commotion and comes to investigate. And you, Hayden of Sigis Hold—" Rowan shot a dark look toward the boy he'd shoved aside a moment ago. "—I can't believe you'd involve yourself in this. What has Kelanna done to you?"

"She took my seat in mathematics," Hayden answered, speaking for the first time since the confrontation began, "and got me in trouble with Master Valorian."

"And you thought that was worth a beating?" Rowan pointed toward the library entrance, his expression dark. "Leave. Now. Don't try anything else. And I'll be watching you."

Faced with the prospect of having to face Rowan—who was not as tall nor broad as Pathom but was well known for being excellent at Shang combat—Sydrian slunk away, shooting Kellie a glare that promised this wasn't over. Hayden turned and stalked out without another word, following Sydrian out of the library.

Rowan looked Kellie over, taking the book from her as she smoothed her rumpled tunic. "I can't believe that coward! I would've thought even he wasn't so low as to corner a page on her second day of training." The unconcealed fury on his face made Kellie back up a step. Rowan noticed and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before he opened them. "I'm not upset with you, Kelanna. I'm angry at him, and at myself for not thinking to warn you about him. The lord of Torhelm is a man who looks down on women, foreigners, and anybody who isn't a noble, and he passed those opinions down to his son, who passed them on to his own sons, including Sydrian. The boy is a miserable worm, and most of the pages don't like him very much; avoid him if you can." He muttered a few more nasty words under his breath.

"What about Hayden?" Kellie questioned, limping a bit on the leg that Sydrian had kicked.

Rowan frowned. "Hayden… Hayden is strange. He keeps to himself, and doesn't seem to have any real friends. He never volunteers in classes, but always answers correctly when one of the masters call on him, and his skills on the practice courts are neither good nor bad, just average. I've known him two years now and I still don't know what to think of him."

"Oh." Kellie remained silent as Rowan led her back out to the brightly lit study area, where the rest of the pages were seated. She thought it an awful shame that someone so evidently smart as Hayden would seek revenge over something as silly as her taking his preferred seat. Sydrian, however, was a bully, plain and simple. He would require close watching if she didn't want him to ambush her again.

Once she sat down, she picked up the mathematics problem she'd been assigned. Ten of them! She'd never finish in time. Reaching across the table for a loose stick of charcoal, she spotted Rowan handing off the book to Toras.

Ulasu plunked down next to her a moment later, followed by Pathom. Rowan quietly filled them in on what had just happened. "Be on your guard," he told Ulasu. "The gutter rat will probably try the same thing on you if you're not careful."

Pathom slammed a fist into his other hand. "When I get my hands on him…" He seemed unable to finish the threat, fuming silently.

"I know it's useless to tell you not to pound on him," Rowan informed his friend matter-of-factly, "But please don't involve Ulasu in your revenge. Sydrian already torments the girl pages; he doesn't need more of a reason to go after them."

"It's not just the girl pages," Pathom replied tightly. "I haven't forgotten what he did to me in my first year." A look of horror dawned on his face. "Farouk needs warning too—he's Bazhir. Sydrian will go after him eventually, and he should at least know it'll happen." Pathom stood and went over to a table near the wall, where Kellie could see Farouk poring over a thick tome next to his sponsor.

"Why would Sydrian go after Pathom?" Kellie inquired of Rowan, keeping her voice low enough that nobody beyond their table would hear her. "He's not female, or foreign."

Rowan glanced around before replying in the same low tone, "Lady Buriram, his mother, is K'miri. She's the queen's right hand, too, but that doesn't mean much to thick-skulled brutes like Sydrian. Torhelm is the one of the most conservative of conservative fiefs. Lord Rat-face whines about all the changes King Jonathan and Queen Thayet have made since they were crowned—luckily, he doesn't have much influence at court."

Kellie was unable to suppress a giggle. "Lord Rat-face?"

Rowan grinned conspiratorially. "His name is Radifice, but Rat-face suits him far better. You'll see, over Midwinter."

Ulasu let out an unladylike snort at Rowan's explanation. Kellie giggled once more, then applied herself to her mathematics, trying to shove the confrontation from her mind.

xxxxx

Sunday came, and with it, a day off from classes. Kellie knew better than to think that meant she had the day free—she had homework for mathematics and reading and writing classes, readings to do for history and etiquette, and a report to write for Master Irial, now that she'd succeeded in lighting up a crystal. Not only that, but she'd been assigned three bells worth of time mucking out stalls in the stable as punishment for being late to supper twice, and for not cleaning Blaze's tack to Sir Merric's satisfaction yesterday.

Kellie looked over her assignments, trying to find the best way to tackle everything. In the end, she piled her books, along with the report she'd begun, into her arms, and determinedly strode down to the stables.

"Welcome, Page Kelanna," greeted Stefan, when she arrived. "I see you came prepared to stay awhile," he added, grinning at the books she carried. "You'd best be gettin' to your work—sooner you start, sooner you can leave."

Kellie grinned. She liked the stable master, and eagerly did as she was told. Setting her books on the ground inside the entrance, she got to work.

After a bell and a half, she was dirty and sweaty. "I suppose you think this is funny," she murmured to Cinnamon, whose stall she was currently working on, and received a horsey grin in response. Tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, Kellie sighed and continued. I'll finish Cinnamon's stall, and then I'll take a break and do the reading for Sir Myles, she decided.

It was good that she'd arrived early, she thought. Stefan was right—the sooner she began the work, the sooner she'd finish it, and if she finished early enough, she could go straight to the baths and wash off the horsiness that was sure to be all over her.

The reading, as usual, went quickly. Kellie had always liked history, and the way that Sir Myles taught the subject only made it more fascinating to her. The fact that he assigned no written work for the pages made him her favorite instructor. All too soon, she had completed the assigned chapters and returned to the dirty task at hand.

The eleventh bell sounded, and Kellie fought back a yawn. She wouldn't be able to bathe before lunch, she realized, mourning the fact that she would have to attend the meal with stable filth all over her. Not only that, she thought, her heart sinking, but she would have to walk back to the training yard after the meal to bathe.

Stefan had left her alone while she worked, but as she was finishing the last stall she would have time for, he appeared in front of her. "You did good work today, miss. Run along now, an' wash up for lunch."

Kellie grinned at him in tired thanks, gathered up her books, and headed for the bathhouse. She wouldn't have time for a proper bath, but she'd learned that many of the girls kept spare uniforms in the bathhouse, for just this kind of situation, and she'd immediately stowed one of her own inside. Undressing and slipping into the water, she scrubbed hurriedly at herself, trying to wash off as much of the stables as possible in the little time she had. She could come back later for a real bath.

She made it to the dining hall just before the noon bell rang out, and breathed a sigh of relief as she slid onto a bench.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. With assistance from Ulasu and Cassius, with Jarrod hesitantly adding his own advice now and then, Kellie was able to complete all of her assigned mathematics problems for the first time. Finally feeling like she was wrapping her head around the shapes, she jubilantly went back to the baths for a real wash.

It was just before supper, while she was studying in her room, that a knock came on the door. Expecting either Tessa or one of her friends, Kellie opened it, and was surprised to find neither. Instead, her visitor was a middle-aged woman dressed like a palace servant, with dark hair neatly pulled into a bun.

"Hello, miss," she greeted Kellie. "I'm Bria Sindarin, head of servants in the pages wing. I do apologize for not being here to introduce myself when you arrived, but I'm back in the palace and I thought I should meet the new pages."

Kellie recognized the name. "You were given leave to attend the birth of your grandchild, weren't you?"

"Indeed!" Bria replied, brown eyes sparkling merrily. "A perfect little boy, Auden, and my daughter is fine and healthy after the birth. I couldn't be prouder. You are Kelanna, yes? I'm very pleased to meet Master Nealan's daughter—Salma, who held my position until she was promoted four years ago, told me all sorts of stories."

Kellie blushed in embarrassment. Bria noticed, and patted her cheek kindly. "Nothing bad, I promise, dear. It was good to meet you, but I still have four more pages to introduce myself to this afternoon. Let me or Tessa know if you need special sewing or anything like that, all right?"

"I will," Kellie answered. "Thank you for coming by," she told the woman politely.

Bria curtsied and backed out into the hall. Kellie watched her tap on Jarrod's door next, before closing her door and opening her clothespress. She'd decided to wear a dress to supper tonight. Her blue gown was the neater of the two—she made a mental note to ask Tessa to press the other so she could wear it in a few days—and so she pulled it on and did up the buttons.

None of the boys at her table commented on her attire, though Kellie noticed Cassius took a second look at her when he realized she was wearing a dress. The conversation seemed mostly centered on something that was happening that evening.

"I wonder who will be giving the lecture tonight," remarked Rowan, scraping the last of his stew off the plate.

"I hope it's the Wildmage," commented Pathom. "She has such wonderful stories."

Jarrod timidly spoke up. "What lecture are you talking about?"

The older pages at the table all exchanged glances. It was Astara who finally replied, "Did I not tell you? Every Sunday there's a lecture on tactics and strategy, given by someone other than our usual instructors. Only the fourth-years are required to attend the lecture, but any page or squire is permitted to attend so long as they've completed their classwork and any punishment work they might have."

"Sometimes it's Master Numair or the Wildmage giving the lectures," Rowan put in. "Sometimes it's an officer from the King's Own, the Queen's Riders, or the army; sometimes it's somebody else. They use a map, and figurines to illustrate battles, usually."

That sounded interesting to Kellie, who decided to tag along despite not having finished her etiquette reading yet. The lecturer turned out to be a man who introduced himself as a Rider group commander, and recounted a skirmish with bandits he'd fought last year. The pages clustered around the map he'd brought, and Kellie could see how cornering the bandits in the narrow valley had allowed the Riders to cut off any escape, resulting in all of the bandits being killed or captured. She went to bed that night, her mind swirling with ideas.

xxxxx

Surprisingly, it only took Kellie two weeks of page training before her muscles stopped protesting every movement. Working hard on the practice courts no longer felt like a chore, and she began to improve in both archery and staff work.

A few days into her third week at the palace, a servant approached her at the midday meal. "Letter for you, Page Kelanna," he informed her, handing over a ragged parchment.

"Oh, thank you," Kellie replied politely, taking the letter from him. Fishing in her coin purse, she came up with a handful of copper bits, and handed two to the boy, who grinned delightedly and bowed before racing off.

Wondering who was writing to her, Kellie opened the letter. She recognized the handwriting immediately, and couldn't keep the grin off her face.

Dearest Kellie, the letter began, when Kel informed me that you were entering page training, I could hardly believe my ears. Surely your father would have told me if you were attempting such madness! But no, when I cornered him about it while Fourth Company was in Corus, he admitted that Kel was telling the truth and he hadn't thought to mention it to me sooner. You see, there is a reason I call him Meathead.

I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to tell you this in person, rather than through a letter. Unfortunately, we have been called east to the Drell River. Bandits from Tusaine are taking advantage of King Faustus's ill health to raid the border villages, and so my company has been ordered to teach them the error of their ways.

Kel is telling me to remind you to eat your vegetables. I don't think you need the reminder—you are so much more levelheaded than my meathead cousin. (You must get it from your mother.) As she is my commanding officer, however, I can hardly go against her orders!

Despite the fact that I think you mad for trying for knighthood, I must add that I am proud of you. You have always taken your duty to your fief and the realm seriously, and you will be an exceptional knight. Don't forget to practice your lance work as much as possible—Kel recommends using weighted practice weapons to build up your arm strength, and we all know that she is the undisputed champion of the tilting lanes when she chooses to participate. I would take her advice if I was you.

I don't know when I will be able to see you again. There is no guarantee we will return to Corus for the winter, so I will take this opportunity to wish you the best of luck in your training. Mithros and the Goddess guide your path.

With all my love, your favorite uncle

Domitan of Masbolle

Kellie reached the end of the letter and smiled. She was certainly disappointed about not seeing her uncle while he was in Corus, but the King's Own had a job to do. He couldn't plead visiting his niece as an excuse for staying behind, especially not when he commanded all of Fourth Company!

"Say, what you smiling about?" Rowan teased her, plucking the letter from her hands. He read he first line and raised his eyebrows, letting his mouth fall open comically. "'Dearest Kellie?' Do you have a sweetheart you haven't told us about?" Putting one hand to his open mouth dramatically, he continued, "You've been holding out on us!"

Kellie made a grab for the letter and managed to snatch it back from him, red-faced. "It's from my uncle," she mumbled, hot with embarrassment. Rowan's antics had caught the attention of half the dining hall; even Sir Merric was looking in her direction.

Rowan blinked at her a few times, then his face went even redder than Kellie's. "I'm sorry, I only meant it as a joke."

"Maybe try thinking before you open your mouth next time, Ro," advised Pathom, smirking in amusement at his friend's obvious discomfort. "Else you'll only be putting your foot in it again."

Rowan scowled at the jab but wisely didn't retort. Kellie hung her head. She'd been excited to her from her uncle, but Rowan had gone and soured her happiness. She knew he hadn't done it on purpose—he was just trying to make them laugh, as usual.

Kellie, without realizing it, had fallen into the habit of eating with the same group—Rowan and Pathom, Ulasu, the two Fenrighs, and shy Cassius. Though she liked several of the others, Jameson was serving the high table today, Mae had been in the healers' wing with a fever since yesterday, and Erynne was having a lively discussion with Toras at another table. Kellie suspected they were discussing history, as she'd quickly learned that Erynne had a passion for the subject.

As Astara and Jarrod sat down, Kellie did her best to swallow a snicker. Jarrod was dressed in a tunic and breeches that did not fit him at all: the sleeves were much too long, forcing him to constantly push them up or risk dragging them in his plate, which was made more difficult by how tight the garment was on him. The breeches were equally long, and Kellie wondered how he'd made it to the dining hall without tripping.

"I don't know what happened," Jarod was mumbling, red-faced. "I thought Bria had fitted all my uniforms, but it seems she missed this one."

"I'd certainly say so," joked Rowan. "Were you issued a replacement uniform lately? That happens now and again. It wouldn't be fitted to you if that's the case."

Jarrod shook his head mutely.

Everett came to afternoon classes the next day with a similar issue. His uniform breeches hung two inches above his ankles, his wide sleeves ended awkwardly halfway down his forearms, and his tunic poufed around his shoulders. Pathom took notice of the ill-fitting clothes as the pages were trudging to Sir Myles' classroom.

"Say, Everett, that tunic looks awfully uncomfortable," he remarked.

"It is," Everett grumbled. "It's too short, and much too loose." He pulled at one of his sleeves.

There was a fair amount of good-natured laughter at Everett's obvious discomfort, Pathom included, but he broke off his chuckles suddenly and frowned. "Say, didn't Jarrod have something like this happen yesterday?" Craning his neck around, Pathom called out, "Small Fenrigh! Come here for a moment."

Jarrod meekly did as asked. Pathom stood him next to Everett and then burst into laughter. "You're wearing each other's uniforms! They must have gotten switched somehow."

The two blond boys sized each other up, assessing the accuracy of Pathom's judgement. Everett broke into a sheepish grin. "It seems you're right."

Kellie peeked at them through her lashes. Jarrod was stocky and no taller than she was, while Everett was whip-thin and a full head taller. She laughed faintly. "No wonder your clothes didn't fit properly."

Ulasu was grinning. "A fine joke, I think."

Pathom raised an eyebrow at his charge. "A fine joke indeed. You wouldn't happen to know anything about how this happened, would you?"

Kellie turned to her friend, her smile fading. Ulasu gave a slight shrug. "Why would you think I know anything?"

"Because I know you," Pathom replied, in the driest tone Kellie could recall hearing from him. "I seem to remember visiting Pirate's Swoop while your family was in Tortall several years ago, and somehow finding all of my clothes swapped out for dresses. I also remember catching the little imp responsible—the same imp I'm speaking to right now!"

Kellie, unable to suppress her giggles at the idea of brawny Pathom wearing a ladies' dress, snorted in a most unladylike fashion. Most of the other pages had similar reactions—Rowan had broken into full-on gales of laughter.

"Was that before or after Ochobai set your hair on fire?" Ulasu inquired, still grinning. "All right, I switched their clothes. I thought it would be amusing—and it is!" There wasn't a trace of apology in her tone.

"It was amusing," Rowan admitted, finally getting control over his laughter. "And nobody got into any trouble over it. As far as pranks go, I think this one was rather spectacular." He grinned at Ulasu, and gave a mock bow. "Teach me your ways, o master of harmless pranks, I beg of you."

Pathom, trying and failing to keep from laughing at Rowan's dramatic speech, bumped his friend with his shoulder. "Nobody's in trouble yet, but that'll change if we don't get to class!"

I keep being reminded of the ironic fact that I'm not currently writing for the RWBY fandom, and therefore am not bound to the color naming rule for the moment. And what's my protagonist called? Kellie—as in kelly green.

Please leave me a review!