Post by ALK on Feb 14, 2013 16:38:33 GMT 10
Title: Passion and Choices
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Neal/Joren
Summary: Sometimes, passion has to come second to duty.
Word Count: 1272
Notes: I really liked your idea of Neal chosing Joren over Kel, so here is my take on it. I hope you like it!
The first time they met, Neal noticed striking blue eyes, that soft hair, and rosy cheeks.
There was barely enough time for words to be exchanged, much less the formal introduction of two pages. Neal had just returned to the palace from his time at the royal university, and found that there were many young faces he did not recognize. This face smirked at him as he passed, and gave Neal an appraising look.
The second time they met was sometime later. Neal was now a too-old first year page, and quite unable to hold his tongue around Lord Wyldon. He had a constant flood of work to make up, and had holed up in the library. It was a quiet place to work, but a silent touch to the back of his neck, and a receding blonde head when he looked for the source, was not helping his concentration.
Neal had even more work than ever,and would not have a free Sunday for the foreseeable future. His evenings leading up to the page examinations were spent in the library, in the company of those wry blue eyes, the sardonic comments uttered by those soft pink lips,and the warm, callused hands that wielded a sword with grace and just as easily distracted Neal while he attempted to complete an essay for Lord Wyldon.
Neal wondered if their quiet evenings would be spoiled once his blue eyed distraction took his exam: as though Neal needed another reminder that they were not true equals. Neal wasn’t the only one worrying. After the examinations were over, Neal found himself cornered in the library, and a soft kiss pressed upon his lips.
Neal held Joren’s elbow as the boy tried to pull away. Emerald met ice blue, and their lips met again.
Neal would not see Joren until page training took up again in autumn, but those desperate kisses would linger on his lips in the intervening months.
For the first time in his life, Neal returned to the palace with anxiety rather than relief, and he found himself constantly checking over his shoulder for a blonde head that was never the one he sought.
When Neal finally found Joren, three days before page training officially began, something had turned his pale angel into an icy wraith.
“They are letting a girl compete with us pages,” Joren said.
Neal found himself quite at a lack for words. He admired the way Joren’s tunic hugged his shoulders and stomach,but he could not ignore the words, as much as he wanted to.
He reached for Joren, and the blonde boy moved towards him.
Irritation still sparked off of Joren, but now blue eyes considered green, and widened as they read the expression on Neal’s face.
“You agree,” Joren said, and it was a statement, not a question. He pulled away, out of Neal’s loose hold.
Neal clamped down on his first emotion,which was desperation – men did not freely seek men in Tortall, and Neal had feared rejection since he had first seen Joren, and felt that flash of blue desire. Now, though…This was an end to their relationship that he had not anticipated.
Granted, he and Joren did not speak about, well, much at all, really. But this…
“Alanna the Lioness…” Neal began,and although his voice was quite reasonable, it was exactly the wrong thing to say.
“The Lioness!?” Joren exclaimed, and his perfect lips curled in disdain. He drew breath to speak, but Neal put one finger on Joren’s lips.
Neal smirked at the surprise on Joren’s face, and Joren’s expression also softened. He kissed Neal’s finger.
Then they were kissing, and what did Lady Alanna have to do with kissing?
They passed two days in quite entertaining companionship, and all might have been well if Neal had not decided to surprise Joren in the library before his ice prince expected him.
Neal found Joren conferring with two friends of his own year: Garvey of Runnerspring and Vinson of Genlith.
Neal might have retreated from the bookshelf that shielded him from vision, but Garvey’s words stopped him in his tracks.
“We should go in during lunch. It won’t take long. She won’t get out of her meeting with Wyldon until just before supper.”
Neal swallowed thickly and waited. The new pages each met with Lord Wyldon before they took up residence in the Page’s wing.
“We could even go through her luggage. She hasn’t yet arrived, but we could wait until right before she gets to her room. That will make it clear.”
That was Vinson. Neal winced, and held his breath, but the next voice was who he had feared to hear.
“That will scare the wench off,”Joren said, his voice hard as ice.
Neal physically flinched, and a ball of ice formed in the pit of his stomach. He straightened his shoulders and moved around the bookshelf.
Joren was surprised to see him. He stood, and gestured Garvey and Vinson to leave.
The two boys protested, but Joren gestured more determinedly. He met Neal’s gaze squarely, and said, “go ahead and do it, do all of it. Make sure she knows we don’t want her here.”
Neal clenched his jaw shut, but did not follow Garvey and Vinson as they left, or even call out to them to contradict Joren. He was shaking his head, slowly, his eyes and throat tightening.
Joren moved out from behind the table and moved within arm’s reach of Neal. He shook his hair away from his face in just that way that made Neal follow the line of his throat and his ivory neckline into his tunic.
Neal moved a step closer to Joren,and saw Joren’s tongue flick out to wet his lips. The gesture made Neal’s fingers tingled, but he smiled. Two could play at this game. Neal was not going to relent. Ruining an 11-year-old’s first day at the palace was not acceptable, irresistible shoulders and smoldering eyes notwithstanding.
“Women are not warriors,” Joren breathed, his lips brushing Neal’s.
Neal took a step back. He had wanted to kiss Joren and stop those lips from speaking anymore, but mage training did wonders for one’s self control. Apparently.
“Queen Thayet,” Neal said, and watched in amazement as Joren’s eye actually twitched. “King’s Champion Alanna the Lioness,” Neal said, “The Queen’s Riders.”
Joren moved closer to Neal. From the look in his eye, Neal guessed that Joren wanted to shut him up.
Neal backed away. “This girl deserves a chance to prove herself. Not a shield, just a chance.”
As though Neal had struck him, Joren stared at Neal. His eyes were narrowed, and Neal saw none of the familiar playfulness or even seductiveness that he had grown used to seeing.
“Do you mean to make an enemy of me?” Joren’s voice was icy, and unlike Neal had ever heard it. Neal met Joren’s eyes for a split second, searching. What had gotten into him? And then the meaning of the words hit him, and Neal laughed
He couldn't help it: what a ridiculous question. He wanted to make a lover of Joren. And that no longer mattered to the blonde that stood before Neal as though Neal had mortally wounded him.
“I mean to remember my honor and give this girl a chance to succeed,” he said. Neal felt his native stubbornness, which had so helped him in the face of Lord Wyldon’s oppressiveness before he had discovered Joren’s icy blue passion, and was relieved.
Joren turned away from Neal,seemingly unable to face him.
Neal turned from Joren and left the library.