Post by rainstormamaya on Aug 27, 2009 2:45:24 GMT 10
Title: Journey of Discovery
Rating: PG-13
Length: 525
Category: Tortall
Summary: An ill-timed trip to Wyldon’s office to offload reports turns into something unexpected.
Peculiar Pairing: Kel/Neal/Owen/Wyldon.
Notes: The blame for this rests entirely on the shoulders of Isha, pineapple and verasque. Entirely, I tell you!
Kel knocked at the heavy door, parcel of reports in one hand.
No answer.
She knocked again, then checked the nameplate. No, she had the right door: Lord Wyldon of Cavall was the legend painted there. “Lord Wyldon?” she tried. “Lord Wyldon? Are you th- Neal? Ye gods! What are you wearing?”
Her friend grinned, apparently unruffled. “Lalasa has an intriguing sideline. I think the ribbons go with my eyes, don’t you?”
“Queenscove, what?- Oh. Don’t stand there gaping, Keladry.”
Kel’s worst nightmare had just got rather worse. She knew that gruff voice.
“Sir!” she gasped, resisting the temptation to cover her eyes and trying to squash any incipient facial expressions.The unwelcome thought crossed her mind that if this was how commanding officers carried on, she certainly hadn’t noticed anything of the kind before.
“Is there a problem, Mindelan?” Eyebrows ascetically enquiring, arms folded- perhaps if she focussed on everything above the waist, she could escape this with the minimum of disgrace...
“I... ah. No, sir. I’ll just leave the reports on the desk, sir.” She reached behind her for the doorknob. “Good eve- Why is this door now locked, Neal?”
“Well, because you looked as if you were going somewhere.” He was grinning, gods-damn him!
“I am,” she said smoothly, holding the reports before her like a shield. “I have to feed the sparro- Owen?”
“Kel! I didn’t know you were joining in! This is jolly. Don’t worry, I think Tobe’s already fed the sparrows, I saw him.”
“I-“
“Mindelan?”
“Yessir?”
“Stop talking. And put those reports down. Jesslaw doesn’t bite.”
“This is... not something I ever considered taking part in,” Kel observed, trying not to run screaming from the mental images.
“Well, me neither, but it’s jolly good fun, isn’t-“
“Really? It’s essential for a squire’s rounded education, Kel. Secret of Lady Alanna’s success. Did you miss out?” Neal chuckled, and stretched, cat-like.
“Queenscove, be quiet. I said, be quiet. Gods, I miss the days when you all did what I said!”
“Neal never did what you said, sir.”
“You’d be surprised, Mindelan.”
Some days later, there was a polite knock on the door of Neal’s office. Neal, although he was wallowing in sheaves of paper covered in spidery writing detailing the wounds, psychoses and minor household accidents of New Haven’s residents, automatically yelled ‘Come in!’
The door opened, and Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, loyal servant of the Crown, Protector of the Small, walked in. Another person might have done so guiltily, or shiftily: Kel appeared impassive, unless you knew her very well and could recognise the little tells that belied her cool exterior and informed the world that, whatever the reason for Kel’s interrupting Neal, she found it seriously embarrassing.
She waited for Neal to acknowledge her presence. He didn’t.
She coughed meaningfully. He ignored her.
Finally, she spoke. “Neal?”
Neal flung his pen down theatrically, splattering several pages with black ink. “For the hundredth time, what? I can’t finish this blasted inventory if you keep popping in with queries all the time!”
“I just wanted to ask, er... Is that why you call Lord Wyldon ‘the Stump’?”
Rating: PG-13
Length: 525
Category: Tortall
Summary: An ill-timed trip to Wyldon’s office to offload reports turns into something unexpected.
Peculiar Pairing: Kel/Neal/Owen/Wyldon.
Notes: The blame for this rests entirely on the shoulders of Isha, pineapple and verasque. Entirely, I tell you!
Kel knocked at the heavy door, parcel of reports in one hand.
No answer.
She knocked again, then checked the nameplate. No, she had the right door: Lord Wyldon of Cavall was the legend painted there. “Lord Wyldon?” she tried. “Lord Wyldon? Are you th- Neal? Ye gods! What are you wearing?”
Her friend grinned, apparently unruffled. “Lalasa has an intriguing sideline. I think the ribbons go with my eyes, don’t you?”
“Queenscove, what?- Oh. Don’t stand there gaping, Keladry.”
Kel’s worst nightmare had just got rather worse. She knew that gruff voice.
“Sir!” she gasped, resisting the temptation to cover her eyes and trying to squash any incipient facial expressions.The unwelcome thought crossed her mind that if this was how commanding officers carried on, she certainly hadn’t noticed anything of the kind before.
“Is there a problem, Mindelan?” Eyebrows ascetically enquiring, arms folded- perhaps if she focussed on everything above the waist, she could escape this with the minimum of disgrace...
“I... ah. No, sir. I’ll just leave the reports on the desk, sir.” She reached behind her for the doorknob. “Good eve- Why is this door now locked, Neal?”
“Well, because you looked as if you were going somewhere.” He was grinning, gods-damn him!
“I am,” she said smoothly, holding the reports before her like a shield. “I have to feed the sparro- Owen?”
“Kel! I didn’t know you were joining in! This is jolly. Don’t worry, I think Tobe’s already fed the sparrows, I saw him.”
“I-“
“Mindelan?”
“Yessir?”
“Stop talking. And put those reports down. Jesslaw doesn’t bite.”
***
“This is... not something I ever considered taking part in,” Kel observed, trying not to run screaming from the mental images.
“Well, me neither, but it’s jolly good fun, isn’t-“
“Really? It’s essential for a squire’s rounded education, Kel. Secret of Lady Alanna’s success. Did you miss out?” Neal chuckled, and stretched, cat-like.
“Queenscove, be quiet. I said, be quiet. Gods, I miss the days when you all did what I said!”
“Neal never did what you said, sir.”
“You’d be surprised, Mindelan.”
***
Some days later, there was a polite knock on the door of Neal’s office. Neal, although he was wallowing in sheaves of paper covered in spidery writing detailing the wounds, psychoses and minor household accidents of New Haven’s residents, automatically yelled ‘Come in!’
The door opened, and Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, loyal servant of the Crown, Protector of the Small, walked in. Another person might have done so guiltily, or shiftily: Kel appeared impassive, unless you knew her very well and could recognise the little tells that belied her cool exterior and informed the world that, whatever the reason for Kel’s interrupting Neal, she found it seriously embarrassing.
She waited for Neal to acknowledge her presence. He didn’t.
She coughed meaningfully. He ignored her.
Finally, she spoke. “Neal?”
Neal flung his pen down theatrically, splattering several pages with black ink. “For the hundredth time, what? I can’t finish this blasted inventory if you keep popping in with queries all the time!”
“I just wanted to ask, er... Is that why you call Lord Wyldon ‘the Stump’?”