Mages did not drink. At least, not mages who wished to keep their powers in check. The stronger the mage the more that could go awry when liquor was present in the bloodstream. That was the particular reason it was very hard to find any sort of spirit in the rooms belonging to Sir Nealan and Lady Yukimi of Queenscove. Both of them mages, both of them always cautious about matters of power, liquor just was not something either wanted to play with. However there were a few small occasions in which Sir Nealan would allow himself a goblet of wine, sipped on slowly throughout the evening to savor the taste. These were moments of celebration. Like when Neal found out they were expecting, or when Neal's cousin announced his promotion to Captain in the King's Own, or at the weddings of his friends or when those friends announced their own expectations of a family.

Until those particular moments of celebration, the small cask of wine, made special from Masbolle's vineyards, stayed hidden in a locked cabinet under the large oak bookshelf in Neal's study. He knew Yuki was well aware he had it and she even had a key to it if she ever so chose to partake in a goblet herself. But with their daughter crawling around it was easier to make sure it was locked in his study where his daughter had yet to discover on her own. He had considered moving it, placing it up higher just in case his daughter did have the Gift and could magick the lock. Children could be determined and toddlers even more so. But until the day she showed any sign of having the Gift, he could leave it locked down low.

Tonight he sat in his study with the door closed deep in thought while he unlocked the cabinet and poured himself a gobletful of the scarlet liquid. He knew Yuki and their daughter would be with the Princess Shinkokami and her son for the next few hours on a play date. As he sat at his desk with the cup he realized this was the first time he was drinking not because of celebration, but because of sorrow. He realized this kind of sorrow was not the kind people normally drank over. Death of a family member or friend, a loss of something important, loneliness, those were reasons to drink of sorrow. But perhaps he had lost something in the last few hours. Perhaps it was more his view on life that had disappeared. Until tonight he had thought it fair in some way. But as that thought came to his mind more thoughts came to counteract it.

Certainly he had witnessed his share of imbalanced wealth, luck, and respect. His own life was littered with it after his two older brothers died in the Immortals War. He witnessed his own best friend, Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, fight one injustice after the next that tried to stop her from getting her shield. He saw poverty and inequality in the convicts and refugees that lived at Haven and then New Hope during the Scanran War. He fought killing devices fueled with the souls of children who were snatched from their homes in the middle of the night, treated like kings and queens, and then murdered. He knew better than to believe the world was fair.

But then again, in the ballad in which he always viewed his life, the righteous and true always prevailed. Kel did become the first known lady knight in over a century. She herself was a one person army attempting to fix all of the evils of inequality. She picked up strays, meddled in their lives, and left them better off than they could have dreamed. She built up New Hope until the refugees were no longer homeless but fiercely proud of their own new fortified town. And Neal had gone with her, albeit against her will, to take down the necromancer and make sure she arrived home. But no the world wasn't fair and he knew that. Certainly Kel was fixing injustices and he was helping her but the world was still unfair.

The perhaps it was the realization that in this ballad he saw his life as, he was a supporting character, not the main hero. Some part of him had known that and it was oddly reassuring. He always knew Kel was the hero in his ballad and he was quite happy to be her best friend, constant travel companion, and the comic relief ever ballad needed. The realization he wasn't the hero in his fantasy ballad did not hurt or even startle him. It was actually something he felt peaceful about now that the thought had come to the surface.

Then perhaps it was how imbalanced his ballad was. Not necessarily imbalanced, but lacking, yes that was the word, lacking in certain areas. Well that was a trait of all ballads to not tell the complete truth. He could name several ballads about his former knight mistress that was complete and utter lies or only focused on her swordsmanship and devotion while leaving out her temper. He had rewritten a few to her amusement that included such details. He prided himself on being better than the great poets and bards of past by knowing these details made the person human again. To know these things were truly done by real people.

As the thought crossed his mind he set down the goblet of wine and stood to go to his bookshelf. On the top row mixed in with books on healing techniques, spells, and potions, was a plain leather bound book with no title pressed onto the spine or cover. As he opened it to his own inked letters he stared at the words. It had started as a joke, meant to be a gift for his best friend whenever a gift was truly needed. It was the true ballad of the Protector of the Small. It told of black eyes, and ungrateful ten year old boys. It told of temperamental horses with a taste for biting particularly handsome green-eyed men, and sparrows that had adopted her as their own chick in need of protecting and raising. It told the truth, and gave details that other ballads thought unnecessary when they spoke of the Protector of the Small.

But her birthday and Midwinter had come and gone three times over since he had planned to give it to her. He wasn't sure why he held back. Perhaps it was because he always had felt it was incomplete. Kel was never done doing deeds and never done adopting strays. She was never done and likely wouldn't be until death and maybe not even then. But Neal knew it wasn't her death he was waiting for. That would be morbid. No he felt there were details he was missing that made the Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, Protector of the Small a true and real person. And tonight he had those details though he realized he wished he hadn't.

Every person deserved a happy ending when it came to love. He knew he had wanted to write her a happy ending that included her wedding day to someone who treated her like the amazing and beautiful woman she was. Everyone needed romantic love somewhere in their lives. It added color and passion. It gave a reason to keep pushing forward when all of the world seemed bleak and ready to fall to cataclysm. And every woman needed to feel attractive to at least someone.

Tonight, he had sat amongst his best friends. He could name them all with a blink and all of court could too. It started at the top of rank with the Crowned Prince Roald of Conte, Sir Faleron Count of King's Reach, Sir Merric of Hollyrose, Sir Esmond of Nicoline, Sir Seaver of Tasride, and Sir Owen of Jesslaw. The only one missing from their number was Sir Cleon of Kennan, distant after his marriage to his betrothed heiress and the realization he would never marry Kel. From what Neal could gather, Kel was more hurt by the distance than the fact she would never marry him. This was a common gathering though. A time to relax and talk about life and changes and duty. But it was all too far from a common gathering when content arose.

Sir Faleron had asked Kel when she was planning to settle down and marry because practically everyone else had or had plans to. He himself had been married and his wife had born him twins just that past year. Kel had only tried to change the subject but it came back again and again as friends tried to discover if she had a lover or a crush or anything worth going off of. And they had all watched as Kel had picked herself apart, seeing herself and her body as ugly and scarred. Seeing her great deeds that made her a heroine, make her unlovable in the feminine sense. It had been proven, she had said, that men preferred their women smaller, unscarred, classically beautiful, and as far from the battlefield and as far from a reminder of their profession as possible. She had only to look at her close circle of friends to prove it. And no one could say she was wrong in her analysis of what men that understood her wanted in their own women.

Neal had mentioned that she was a hero and her scars proved it. She had retorted that it was a double standard held by all of court and most of mankind. Men with battle scars were considered heroes and their scars were marks of courage and heroic deeds. Woman with battle scars were considered disfigured, ruined for life, ugly. She brought up Neal's cousin Domitan of Masbolle and pointed out an arrow had gone through his shoulder when she had been a squire. He had boasted about how the scar had made the ladies swoon over how strong and heroic he was. Kel pointed out those who saw her scar on her shoulder, very similar to Dom's but done with a battle axe and for no less heroic of a deed, thought it was ugly and did their best to avert their eyes.

Point after point was made in favor of Kel's view on herself. She had evidence built up in her favor and no one could sway her from the opinions she had formed of her own body and her own worth as a woman to be loved.

She had left then stating that she just needed the topic to be dropped and left alone for all of eternity. Like a dutiful best friend, Neal had followed after recovering from his stunned state. He had discovered her in her rooms, tears silently running down her face. Had it been an outburst of sadness and rage at her situation, he felt it would have been easier to handle. Those emotions were usually short lived and after a few hours of soothing, they could look to a brighter future together. But the slow silent tears marked something far longer and deeper than bitterness at her situation. It was sadness at the long standing resignation she would be forever alone. This was a pain, an injury, a scar he as a healer could not heal. It was something he could only heal if he broke his vows to his wife. He knew he could love Kel. He had loved her from afar for many years. He had always thought she deserved someone better. That someone more suited to her would come along. Someone similar to him but with better luck at drawing out her true emotions and without fear of facing them.

He could have loved Kel the way she needed, but Yuki was what he had needed for all of the reasons Kel had mentioned but not for the exact same intentions. Yuki was not hardened and scarred. She was not a reminder of the battlefield when he woke at night sweating because he remembered the deaths that he had handed out. Yuki was someone he could leave behind at home and trust she was safe so he could focus on duty and not worry. Yuki was someone he could remind himself he had to return home to when duty was done. Kel would understand him better when he needed to vent about the people he could not save, but she would not be a fantasy away from the sadness. She could not be left home because often she had the same duties. She would be a distraction as he felt the need to protect her while at the same time, knowing she could protect herself. And he could not remind himself he had to return home to her in fits of melancholy on duty because she would be right there every bit as tired, irritable, cold, and wet as he was and not be complaining.

He knew those reasons when he was beside her in battle and when he was practicing alongside of her on the practice courts. But it was hard to think of those reasons when she was so vulnerable in front of him. He had felt that way when she was injured or ill but those things he could fix with a touch of the hand. At the same time this particular vulnerability could also be fixed by the touch of a hand. A kiss. A night of the slow kind of love making that took hours to start and even more hours to finish. The kind of love making that left her sleeping soundly next to him while he would stare at her body and see every scar and every muscle and know she was every bit as vulnerable as she was strong and amazed by her all over again.

But he couldn't give into those thoughts. He had a wife, a child, a life he loved dearly. Had he realized this all sooner, he may not have made the safe choice in his love for Yuki. Yes he loved her deeply. He had chosen Yuki. He had chosen the life he had with her and he had good reasons now that he thought about them. But he had still held Kel, hugging her close and kissing her temple, promising that a worthy man would come along and prove to her at least one man in the world was smart enough to snatch her up and worship her as the goddess she was. In his own mind he added that some man would be brave enough to love her.

She had admitted then, with a quiet laugh, that as a page she had wished he would have held her even like this just to comfort her and that she had loved him. When he had teased her a bit, hoping to make her laugh, he had gotten the name of the man who had taken her devotions from him.

Dom. Of course it was Dom.

The goblet of wine was empty now. It sat on his desk next to the true ballad he had written for Kel. He had hoped with the last drop of wine, the image of Kel in such need would have faded from his mind as well. He had hoped it would bring him solace from such thoughts. Instead it left him contemplating his cousin a bit more and the potential for a love between the Great Flirt Domitan of Masbolle and the very subtle Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan.

Neal was no fool. Dom would be a balance for Kel's stoic ideals. Dom was handsome, charming, confident, and funny without becoming the tail end of a joke. Though he graciously accepted that every now and then he was the tail end of a joke. He understood Kel's feelings when it came to command. He understood her mindset and the sorrows she faced. He would bring passion and color to her life. He could help her forget the battlefield and killing and injustices of the world. He could love her body the way it deserved to be loved.

But Dom was in the Own. The only person who could marry and stay in the Own was the Knight Commander. Dom had only just become Captain of Third Company that year. He would want to keep his promotion and prove himself for at least five years or so before thinking of retiring. He was thirty-three. Chances were he didn't plan on retirement until at least forty if ever. So perhaps marriage was out of the question for the time being. But he could still love Kel.

Neal knew Dom loved Kel in a sense. He was viciously protective of her. And it had been Dom back in Blayce's fortress that had insisted on looking for Kel even though she had ordered them all home if she didn't come back on her own. It had been Dom who had carried her out of the tower and had reported her deeds to everyone. It had been Dom who had watched her all the way home, making sure she truly was alright without a true healing on her shoulder. And Neal certainly could tell the two of them were comfortable with each other as comrades and as friends. When Dom was at the palace he could often be found having a drink of some kind while talking with Kel about anything and everything.

Kel understood the life Dom had better than any woman Dom had ever attempted to court. She understood midnight and early morning calls. She understood chasing bandits through the forest for weeks, or the time it took to rebuild a town. She understood months among the Bazhir in recruitment and building of rapport. She understood having little time to write or read letters. Perhaps Dom would stop searching out easy female company when he had such a solid love that was waiting for him. And perhaps Dom would do better with such a woman after seeing exactly how his own Knight Commander had dealt with loving a woman who couldn't just be left home or had her own orders.

Neal heard Yuki coming back with their daughter as he took out his paper and quills and ink for writing a letter. Neal had always been honest with Dom about his feelings for Kel. He had also always focused on Kel's good qualities rather than write in about the times she had been vulnerable. Now he wrote of the night's experiences. He wrote of Kel's points about herself and he wrote of his own cowardice at knowing exactly what she deserved. He wrote of wishing he himself could take away the pains she was experiencing but knew that he wasn't the one that deserved it to be hers with the choices he had made in love. He did not outright say that Kel needed Dom, but he did press that Dom might be better suited in helping her simply because he knew women better and he knew Kel's mind better. When he signed his name he turned to face his own wife, reading over his shoulder, her face blank of emotion but her eyes readable. She approved.

"Do you think he'll see through everything I've said to what needs to be done?" Neal asked as he pulled his wife down onto his lap to hold her close.

"I think he'll know, in time. Before then, he will still come to chase the sorrow she feels away." Yuki held out the wax that would be required to seal it and then stood to kiss his temple. "Come to bed soon."