Post by Shhasow on Nov 22, 2010 10:38:37 GMT 10
A Glimpse of Memory
Summary: Kel struggles with the distance, but the past catches up.
Rating: PG-13
Part 13 of 13 (14 is being written)
________
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Something must have happened. She isn’t the same.”
“You’re right. She seems a bit sad.”
There was a pause before the other voice replied.
“It’s almost as if she is missing someone.”
“Kel?”
“I know I’m not the most perceptive person, Dom, but even I can tell when she has her mind elsewhere. Not that she’s been neglecting her duties.”
“This is Kel, of course. If bright Mithros himself came to her, she would politely ask him to wait until the supply reports were complete.”
They chuckled, and the same young voice continued.
“Do you know of any, well, rumors of an attachment?”
“You mean any new ones? Nothing more or less far-fetched than usual, I believe the latest gossip involves her with her old training master.”
“It’s a short step from you to him, my lord.”
“I hope it’s rather larger than that, else you’ll be on privy duty for the next week.” There was a rustle from inside before the voice went on. “Have you heard anything from your cousin?’
“Sir Meathead, I mean Neal, is unusually quiet. He told me to mind my own business, that he was going to mind his, that Kel knew best, and whatever she did was her own affair.”
“That’s odd.”
“I know, especially as he is usually the first to inform me of the latest palace gossip. It always pays to be informed, my lord."
“Quite.” The man sighed. “I hope whatever is bothering her passes soon. We cannot help her unless she volunteers, and I dislike that down-trodden look that’s been appearing when she thinks no one is looking.”
Silence.
Kel, feeling tremendously guilty but strangely touched that her two closest friends in the Own noticed her low spirits, knocked on the door a few minutes after hearing nothing from inside the room. She entered, supply reports in hand, and greeted Raoul and Dom, who were poring over a map of the region fixed to the long table.
Raoul motioned her to approach, saying heartily, “Glad you’re here, Kel. What do you make of this map now that you’ve seen the surrounding areas firsthand?”
Kel dutifully approached, briefly studied the map, and gave her recommendation.
They were in the town of Stretton Crossing in western Tortall along the coast. The village had been plagued with a herd of killer unicorns; Third Company had arrived a week ago to clear them out, but recent weather made it difficult for the Own to leave safely. The heavy spring rains had washed away some roads and left others impassable due to thick mud. Traveling was dangerous; they had no stomach for risking unnecessary injuries to their mounts.
Most of the Own was glad for a break, for Raoul had set a punishing pace during the winter due to an increase of immortal raids. Most bandits were quiet during the colder months, but as Kel had been taught years ago, many immortals had nice, thick fur and preferred moving in the winter.
Kel, however, was not pleased at the impromptu vacation, but understood the necessity of remaining for the time being. Still, she would be happier if she were in constant movement and exhausted, as fatigue meant she couldn’t dwell on her thoughts.
Unfortunately, they were stuck in Stretton Crossing for a few more days.
“Is there anything for me, Raoul?” she asked.
Raoul shook his head. “Not until we start moving again. I assume you’re off to ride your great bruiser again?”
“Drum is the same height as Merry,” she said with a slight smile.
“Granted, but not quite so broad.” He chuckled. “Merry, what an ironic name for that ornery beast. What made you think of it?”
“I didn’t have the honor; he came with a name.”
“You said he was from the Cavall stables?”
Kel nodded.
“Damned fine breeders, Cavall, and they don’t let their horses go easily. I nearly had to beg my Lord Wyldon to let me purchase Drum, and you know how that hurts my pride.”
Kel smirked a bit at the thought of the large Raoul beseeching a stony Wyldon, and her heart twinged. She cleared her throat. “I am sorry to have missed it.”
“I am sure you are” he commented dryly. “You never did tell me how you pried Merry from Cavall. What did you offer Wyldon, your firstborn son?”
Kel’s face cleared and she coughed before responding neutrally. “Nothing quite so incriminating; he was there when Peachblossom was killed and I assume he felt somewhat responsible.”
Raoul sighed, looking at the map mournfully. “Well, if you do find a way into that man’s heart do let me know so I don’t have to sell my other arm and leg next time.” He thought for a second, then revised, “No, forget his heart, I just want his stables.”
Kel nodded with a slightly bitter smile and went to leave, but was interrupted by Dom. “Do you mind if I join you, Kel? I’m a bit cooped up here with my Lord Raoul, if you don’t mind, sir.”
“Go on.” Raoul waved a hand in their direction. “I am just as capable as you at staring at the little lines and dots and persuading them to come closer.”
“That is to say, not at all.”
They laughed; Raoul took out a small book as Kel and Dom headed towards the picket line and their horses.
“You don’t really mind, do you Kel?”
“Not at all,” she replied truthfully. Dom was very good company and was generally able to distract her from herself, though his presence did remind her of her past crush on him, which was unavoidably compared to her current, well, she wasn’t sure what to call her relationship with Wyldon.
An understanding, perhaps.
Had there been any remaining doubts about her love for the man, these past six months would have soundly erased them. Whereas in all previous cases her infatuation died a quick death once removed from the person, her distance from Wyldon only made her ache for him more. Their sudden separation made Kel realize how much she had depended on seeing him daily. She still caught herself looking for Wyldon, expecting his presence and being disappointed at his absence. She missed their easy companionship, their jousting and sparring, his slight smile when he looked at her and his severe frown at most others. It was… endearing.
There were times when Kel was almost glad for their distance. It allowed her to realize and acknowledge that she wasn’t fickle, that this strong attachment was real; it was truly love.
The thought made her chest fill with joy and warmth, but immediately following was the knowledge that she had another six months to wait before they were both back in Corus, turning her bliss into melancholy and sighs of happiness into sighs of frustration.
Kel admitted to herself that she was the slightest bit concerned Wyldon might lose his fond regard for her, but she had more fears for her own constancy than his, and yet she could not stop replaying that moment in her mind when the two of them finally admitted their love to the other, not with words but with their eyes and bodies.
Which was, if she thought about it, oddly appropriate for the two of them. They were both more comfortable with silence than chatter.
“Alright there, Kel?” Dom’s voice broke into her head.
She shook her head for a second to clear them and made a face. “Just lost in thought.”
“Must be some confusing thoughts. Maybe you should draw a map?”
Kel grimaced playfully at the bad joke as Dom grinned and changed the subject. “I don’t think I’ve asked you, how is Meathead recently? Whenever I send him a letter, all I get in return is him waxing lyrical over Yuki for pages. Granted, I haven't tried the past few months.”
She smiled in return. “He does that on purpose to gloat about his married state and your bachelorhood.”
Dom frowned. “Shouldn’t it be the opposite?”
Kel shrugged. “You know Neal, he enjoys defying expectations. As for how he’s been… I haven’t heard much; you know how difficult it is to get letters out and in.” She very carefully did not look at Dom. “Besides, we had a bit of a fight before I left Corus, and we both lost our tempers.”
“You lost your temper?” Dom was shocked. “I wasn’t aware you even had a temper, Kel. What did my Meathead cousin say to set you off?”
Kel really didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m not blameless either, Dom.” She sighed and continued, “At least we did get a chance to make up before I left.”
Kel had approached Neal, sitting with him at dinner as if nothing had changed and the years flew backwards until they were both pages again. At first, neither could look at the other, but when she swiped his extra cake and replaced it with vegetables, and he shot her a dirty look, they could not help but fall into companionable laughter. Kel then offered peace by asking after Yuki, and by mutual nonverbal agreement they didn’t mention their conflict until the end of dinner. Neal solemnly asked for her forgiveness and vowed that he would never meddle with her again; Kel replied just as solemnly that she highly doubted he could keep that vow but would gladly accept the apology nonetheless so long as he accepted hers. The tension between them never quite disappeared though they parted amicably enough.
Just as they arrived at the picket line, a messenger ran up to Dom and informed him of a ‘situation’ between two of the men that required his immediate attention. Dom looked apologetically at Kel, who shrugged her shoulders. Duty was duty.
“Next time,” he called over his shoulder as he left to resolve whatever mess his squad had created.
Kel saddled Merry and directed him towards the village gates. She couldn’t ride far, as it wasn’t completely safe outside the view of the town walls, but there were enough open fields to give Merry a good run.
It was important to Kel that she bond with her horse, and spending time together was the best way to do that. Merry, though excellently bred and trained, was not as intelligent as Peachblossom, though that was almost certainly due to Daine’s presence in the palace. The wildmage seemed to have an effect on animals at the palace; Jump and the sparrows were the most obvious examples, though the horses were altered as well.
Kel waved to the person operating the gate as she trotted through and urged her mount into a gallop. She was careful not to rowel Merry, and vowed to ask Daine to teach him words to make the sharp spurs unnecessary as soon as she got back to Corus.
And when she got back to Corus…
Kel shoved that thought firmly out of her head. What would happen would happen, whether or not she dwelled upon it and made herself sick with hopeful anxiety.
The idea of a peaceful ride was suddenly unwelcome, instead for the next bell, her mind was agreeably distracted in putting Merry through his paces. She had him gallop and then slow to a trot and back again, sliding into war maneuvers and kicks at all speeds, and when she was certain of the ground, Kel directed him to jump over obstacles.
She slowly directed their exercise towards a nearby running stream; by the time they arrived, Merry’s barrel chest was heaving and Kel was ready for a break herself.
Kel led him to the stream and let him drink as she sipped from her canteen. She patted his soft coat and scratched his large head. “Good job, Merry,” Kel said, looking into an eye. “You are magnificent.” He snorted as if to say, “Of course I am,” and Kel laughed.
Merry swiveled his head around and cast a look at something behind Kel.
That was the only warning she got.
Strong arms slid over hers, a crushing vice that locked her arms to her body. Kel fought desperately, writhing in the grasp and ignoring the sudden dull throbbing emanating from her stomach.
She heard a muffled curse from behind as she stomped on a booted foot.
One hand around her jerked and Kel felt like she had been kicked. Glancing down, she saw the dagger handle sticking out of her body.
Immediate agony overwhelmed her, and Kel fought to keep from going into shock, but her vision began graying out until she was looking down a dark tunnel.
A cold voice sneered in her ear.
“This is for my brother, you whore.”
Kel gasped, blood bubbling at her lips. There was a high-pitched ringing in her ears, that and the pain overwhelmed her senses, wrapping them in a thick haze.
She dimly heard an angry neigh; the arms released her and Kel stumbled, falling to one knee and wrapping her hands around the handle. It was a foreign intrusion, it didn’t belong, Kel wanted it out, but a distant lesson stirred in her mind and she reluctantly left it in.
She swayed, watching a furious Merry fend off a man wielding a sword. If the man turned around, he would be trampled, but he couldn’t strike a definitive blow on the warhorse.
With a trembling hand, Kel reached into her boot and pulled out a small knife.
She inched closer to the man, one hand holding the dagger inside her stomach and the other keeping her balance as she half-crawled, half-dragged herself.
With her last bit of strength, Kel made a desperate lunge and sunk the small knife into the man’s leg, slicing downwards. She screamed as the fall jostled the dagger, pushing it in further and stretching the gash.
He gave a cry of agony and nearly dropped his sword; Merry took the opportunity and whirled around to strike him in the head with a vicious kick. He flew backwards and crumbled on the ground, blood oozing from both wounds.
Kel, lying on her side, felt a soft nudge on her face. She opened her clenched eyes to see a horse’s nose, and smiled weakly. “Good boy, Merry,” Kel whispered. “Go find someone, anyone.”
The horse nudged her again, and then Kel heard hoof-beats pound away, slowly fading out in the distance.
Kel mustered up her courage and looked at the dagger. It did not cover the entire stab, so blood pooled up around her hands as they pressed down, applying as much pressure as she could.
She gave a soft sob of anguish as she slowly stretched herself out on the ground, every breath and every heartbeat an absolute agony.
Kel could hardly think for the pain.
Slowly, the sharp stabs dulled into throbbing aches and fatigue set in, a lethargy that robbed every trace of energy that remained.
With every breath, the next became more difficult, heavier, wetter.
Blood filled her mouth but Kel couldn’t spit it out.
The pain became more distant.
Kel idly thought that perhaps she should remain awake. She forced her eyes to remain open until they stuck, unwilling to close.
The blood still flowed.
As she lay on the ground, eyes open as the bright world darkened, Kel had a fleeting wish and a glimpse of a memory, of that day when she and Wyldon stood across from each other, paralyzed with longing and fear of the unknown. She wished she had kissed him, just once, that they had-
Summary: Kel struggles with the distance, but the past catches up.
Rating: PG-13
Part 13 of 13 (14 is being written)
________
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Something must have happened. She isn’t the same.”
“You’re right. She seems a bit sad.”
There was a pause before the other voice replied.
“It’s almost as if she is missing someone.”
“Kel?”
“I know I’m not the most perceptive person, Dom, but even I can tell when she has her mind elsewhere. Not that she’s been neglecting her duties.”
“This is Kel, of course. If bright Mithros himself came to her, she would politely ask him to wait until the supply reports were complete.”
They chuckled, and the same young voice continued.
“Do you know of any, well, rumors of an attachment?”
“You mean any new ones? Nothing more or less far-fetched than usual, I believe the latest gossip involves her with her old training master.”
“It’s a short step from you to him, my lord.”
“I hope it’s rather larger than that, else you’ll be on privy duty for the next week.” There was a rustle from inside before the voice went on. “Have you heard anything from your cousin?’
“Sir Meathead, I mean Neal, is unusually quiet. He told me to mind my own business, that he was going to mind his, that Kel knew best, and whatever she did was her own affair.”
“That’s odd.”
“I know, especially as he is usually the first to inform me of the latest palace gossip. It always pays to be informed, my lord."
“Quite.” The man sighed. “I hope whatever is bothering her passes soon. We cannot help her unless she volunteers, and I dislike that down-trodden look that’s been appearing when she thinks no one is looking.”
Silence.
Kel, feeling tremendously guilty but strangely touched that her two closest friends in the Own noticed her low spirits, knocked on the door a few minutes after hearing nothing from inside the room. She entered, supply reports in hand, and greeted Raoul and Dom, who were poring over a map of the region fixed to the long table.
Raoul motioned her to approach, saying heartily, “Glad you’re here, Kel. What do you make of this map now that you’ve seen the surrounding areas firsthand?”
Kel dutifully approached, briefly studied the map, and gave her recommendation.
They were in the town of Stretton Crossing in western Tortall along the coast. The village had been plagued with a herd of killer unicorns; Third Company had arrived a week ago to clear them out, but recent weather made it difficult for the Own to leave safely. The heavy spring rains had washed away some roads and left others impassable due to thick mud. Traveling was dangerous; they had no stomach for risking unnecessary injuries to their mounts.
Most of the Own was glad for a break, for Raoul had set a punishing pace during the winter due to an increase of immortal raids. Most bandits were quiet during the colder months, but as Kel had been taught years ago, many immortals had nice, thick fur and preferred moving in the winter.
Kel, however, was not pleased at the impromptu vacation, but understood the necessity of remaining for the time being. Still, she would be happier if she were in constant movement and exhausted, as fatigue meant she couldn’t dwell on her thoughts.
Unfortunately, they were stuck in Stretton Crossing for a few more days.
“Is there anything for me, Raoul?” she asked.
Raoul shook his head. “Not until we start moving again. I assume you’re off to ride your great bruiser again?”
“Drum is the same height as Merry,” she said with a slight smile.
“Granted, but not quite so broad.” He chuckled. “Merry, what an ironic name for that ornery beast. What made you think of it?”
“I didn’t have the honor; he came with a name.”
“You said he was from the Cavall stables?”
Kel nodded.
“Damned fine breeders, Cavall, and they don’t let their horses go easily. I nearly had to beg my Lord Wyldon to let me purchase Drum, and you know how that hurts my pride.”
Kel smirked a bit at the thought of the large Raoul beseeching a stony Wyldon, and her heart twinged. She cleared her throat. “I am sorry to have missed it.”
“I am sure you are” he commented dryly. “You never did tell me how you pried Merry from Cavall. What did you offer Wyldon, your firstborn son?”
Kel’s face cleared and she coughed before responding neutrally. “Nothing quite so incriminating; he was there when Peachblossom was killed and I assume he felt somewhat responsible.”
Raoul sighed, looking at the map mournfully. “Well, if you do find a way into that man’s heart do let me know so I don’t have to sell my other arm and leg next time.” He thought for a second, then revised, “No, forget his heart, I just want his stables.”
Kel nodded with a slightly bitter smile and went to leave, but was interrupted by Dom. “Do you mind if I join you, Kel? I’m a bit cooped up here with my Lord Raoul, if you don’t mind, sir.”
“Go on.” Raoul waved a hand in their direction. “I am just as capable as you at staring at the little lines and dots and persuading them to come closer.”
“That is to say, not at all.”
They laughed; Raoul took out a small book as Kel and Dom headed towards the picket line and their horses.
“You don’t really mind, do you Kel?”
“Not at all,” she replied truthfully. Dom was very good company and was generally able to distract her from herself, though his presence did remind her of her past crush on him, which was unavoidably compared to her current, well, she wasn’t sure what to call her relationship with Wyldon.
An understanding, perhaps.
Had there been any remaining doubts about her love for the man, these past six months would have soundly erased them. Whereas in all previous cases her infatuation died a quick death once removed from the person, her distance from Wyldon only made her ache for him more. Their sudden separation made Kel realize how much she had depended on seeing him daily. She still caught herself looking for Wyldon, expecting his presence and being disappointed at his absence. She missed their easy companionship, their jousting and sparring, his slight smile when he looked at her and his severe frown at most others. It was… endearing.
There were times when Kel was almost glad for their distance. It allowed her to realize and acknowledge that she wasn’t fickle, that this strong attachment was real; it was truly love.
The thought made her chest fill with joy and warmth, but immediately following was the knowledge that she had another six months to wait before they were both back in Corus, turning her bliss into melancholy and sighs of happiness into sighs of frustration.
Kel admitted to herself that she was the slightest bit concerned Wyldon might lose his fond regard for her, but she had more fears for her own constancy than his, and yet she could not stop replaying that moment in her mind when the two of them finally admitted their love to the other, not with words but with their eyes and bodies.
Which was, if she thought about it, oddly appropriate for the two of them. They were both more comfortable with silence than chatter.
“Alright there, Kel?” Dom’s voice broke into her head.
She shook her head for a second to clear them and made a face. “Just lost in thought.”
“Must be some confusing thoughts. Maybe you should draw a map?”
Kel grimaced playfully at the bad joke as Dom grinned and changed the subject. “I don’t think I’ve asked you, how is Meathead recently? Whenever I send him a letter, all I get in return is him waxing lyrical over Yuki for pages. Granted, I haven't tried the past few months.”
She smiled in return. “He does that on purpose to gloat about his married state and your bachelorhood.”
Dom frowned. “Shouldn’t it be the opposite?”
Kel shrugged. “You know Neal, he enjoys defying expectations. As for how he’s been… I haven’t heard much; you know how difficult it is to get letters out and in.” She very carefully did not look at Dom. “Besides, we had a bit of a fight before I left Corus, and we both lost our tempers.”
“You lost your temper?” Dom was shocked. “I wasn’t aware you even had a temper, Kel. What did my Meathead cousin say to set you off?”
Kel really didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m not blameless either, Dom.” She sighed and continued, “At least we did get a chance to make up before I left.”
Kel had approached Neal, sitting with him at dinner as if nothing had changed and the years flew backwards until they were both pages again. At first, neither could look at the other, but when she swiped his extra cake and replaced it with vegetables, and he shot her a dirty look, they could not help but fall into companionable laughter. Kel then offered peace by asking after Yuki, and by mutual nonverbal agreement they didn’t mention their conflict until the end of dinner. Neal solemnly asked for her forgiveness and vowed that he would never meddle with her again; Kel replied just as solemnly that she highly doubted he could keep that vow but would gladly accept the apology nonetheless so long as he accepted hers. The tension between them never quite disappeared though they parted amicably enough.
Just as they arrived at the picket line, a messenger ran up to Dom and informed him of a ‘situation’ between two of the men that required his immediate attention. Dom looked apologetically at Kel, who shrugged her shoulders. Duty was duty.
“Next time,” he called over his shoulder as he left to resolve whatever mess his squad had created.
Kel saddled Merry and directed him towards the village gates. She couldn’t ride far, as it wasn’t completely safe outside the view of the town walls, but there were enough open fields to give Merry a good run.
It was important to Kel that she bond with her horse, and spending time together was the best way to do that. Merry, though excellently bred and trained, was not as intelligent as Peachblossom, though that was almost certainly due to Daine’s presence in the palace. The wildmage seemed to have an effect on animals at the palace; Jump and the sparrows were the most obvious examples, though the horses were altered as well.
Kel waved to the person operating the gate as she trotted through and urged her mount into a gallop. She was careful not to rowel Merry, and vowed to ask Daine to teach him words to make the sharp spurs unnecessary as soon as she got back to Corus.
And when she got back to Corus…
Kel shoved that thought firmly out of her head. What would happen would happen, whether or not she dwelled upon it and made herself sick with hopeful anxiety.
The idea of a peaceful ride was suddenly unwelcome, instead for the next bell, her mind was agreeably distracted in putting Merry through his paces. She had him gallop and then slow to a trot and back again, sliding into war maneuvers and kicks at all speeds, and when she was certain of the ground, Kel directed him to jump over obstacles.
She slowly directed their exercise towards a nearby running stream; by the time they arrived, Merry’s barrel chest was heaving and Kel was ready for a break herself.
Kel led him to the stream and let him drink as she sipped from her canteen. She patted his soft coat and scratched his large head. “Good job, Merry,” Kel said, looking into an eye. “You are magnificent.” He snorted as if to say, “Of course I am,” and Kel laughed.
Merry swiveled his head around and cast a look at something behind Kel.
That was the only warning she got.
Strong arms slid over hers, a crushing vice that locked her arms to her body. Kel fought desperately, writhing in the grasp and ignoring the sudden dull throbbing emanating from her stomach.
She heard a muffled curse from behind as she stomped on a booted foot.
One hand around her jerked and Kel felt like she had been kicked. Glancing down, she saw the dagger handle sticking out of her body.
Immediate agony overwhelmed her, and Kel fought to keep from going into shock, but her vision began graying out until she was looking down a dark tunnel.
A cold voice sneered in her ear.
“This is for my brother, you whore.”
Kel gasped, blood bubbling at her lips. There was a high-pitched ringing in her ears, that and the pain overwhelmed her senses, wrapping them in a thick haze.
She dimly heard an angry neigh; the arms released her and Kel stumbled, falling to one knee and wrapping her hands around the handle. It was a foreign intrusion, it didn’t belong, Kel wanted it out, but a distant lesson stirred in her mind and she reluctantly left it in.
She swayed, watching a furious Merry fend off a man wielding a sword. If the man turned around, he would be trampled, but he couldn’t strike a definitive blow on the warhorse.
With a trembling hand, Kel reached into her boot and pulled out a small knife.
She inched closer to the man, one hand holding the dagger inside her stomach and the other keeping her balance as she half-crawled, half-dragged herself.
With her last bit of strength, Kel made a desperate lunge and sunk the small knife into the man’s leg, slicing downwards. She screamed as the fall jostled the dagger, pushing it in further and stretching the gash.
He gave a cry of agony and nearly dropped his sword; Merry took the opportunity and whirled around to strike him in the head with a vicious kick. He flew backwards and crumbled on the ground, blood oozing from both wounds.
Kel, lying on her side, felt a soft nudge on her face. She opened her clenched eyes to see a horse’s nose, and smiled weakly. “Good boy, Merry,” Kel whispered. “Go find someone, anyone.”
The horse nudged her again, and then Kel heard hoof-beats pound away, slowly fading out in the distance.
Kel mustered up her courage and looked at the dagger. It did not cover the entire stab, so blood pooled up around her hands as they pressed down, applying as much pressure as she could.
She gave a soft sob of anguish as she slowly stretched herself out on the ground, every breath and every heartbeat an absolute agony.
Kel could hardly think for the pain.
Slowly, the sharp stabs dulled into throbbing aches and fatigue set in, a lethargy that robbed every trace of energy that remained.
With every breath, the next became more difficult, heavier, wetter.
Blood filled her mouth but Kel couldn’t spit it out.
The pain became more distant.
Kel idly thought that perhaps she should remain awake. She forced her eyes to remain open until they stuck, unwilling to close.
The blood still flowed.
As she lay on the ground, eyes open as the bright world darkened, Kel had a fleeting wish and a glimpse of a memory, of that day when she and Wyldon stood across from each other, paralyzed with longing and fear of the unknown. She wished she had kissed him, just once, that they had-