I love this plot! Ever since I registered here I wanted to do it…and now I have! I think it's original. Does anyone know if it isn't? Oh, and there WILL be a Beswitched 2...but what it's about, I'm not telling. Muaha.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me!!

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Something wet and sticky clung to Keladry's inner thighs. She groaned. Her monthlies must have started early. A tad bit of light touched her face lightly. Kel sighed, and threw her legs over the side of the bed, cracking her eyes open wearily. She blinked and frowned.

This was not her room.

Kel scratched the back of her head, thoroughly flummoxed. She blinked again and her frown deepened. Running her fingers through her hair, she found the locks satin-soft and longer than she remembered. She thought a Yamani curse and slid out of bed reluctantly. Looking down, she was horrified to find she wore nothing more than a loin cloth. Her chest was that of a man, strong and broad and breast-less. She bent over slightly, and found that there was no blood, but a semi-translucent white substance clung to her inner thighs and - much to her embarrassment - something else.

Breathing hard - almost to the point of hyperventilation - Kel raced into the privy. She leaned heavily on the counter and peered into the mirror. A beautiful, blond-framed face with wide pale blue eyes, a slim nose, rosy cheeks and a bow-shaped mouth peered back out at her.

She shrieked.

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A high-pitched shriek jolted Joren awake. He groaned and gritted his teeth, burying his face further into his pillow against the light. When he found the wench who woke him up…

Something peeped near his face. His brow furrowed and he opened and he turned his head slightly, opening one eye. A little brown bird sat on his pillow, staring at him with its beady black eyes. Joren stared back at it for a moment, then became acutely aware of numerous little…little somethings clinging to his back, chirping randomly.

Joren roared and leaped out of bed, sending the birds twittering madly out an open window in a flurry of fluffy feathers. He gritted his teeth, his face heating in his fury.

"Milady?" a woman's timid voice asked fearfully. "Milady, are you okay?"

Milady? What the…?

He turned to look at the small woman who spoke. She was very pretty, plump and dark with large eyes and long thick hair.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked blankly.

She blinked, and now she seemed genuinely worried. "Milady…I'm your maid, Lalasa."

Lalasa…that was the name of the Mindelan slut's maid. Then why the hell was she in his room? And why the hell was she calling him "milady"? Joren glanced around the room. His frowned deepened.

"Milady?" Lalasa squeaked.

Joren skulked into the privy, wondering what he would find in the mirror and somehow already knowing.

Dreamy green-hazel eyes, framed within long curling lashes, a full mouth, a small delicate nose, short mousy brown hair, freckled, round face…all of which were not his own. He slowly glanced down, his breath coming in rapid, panicky spurts. There were two small bulges in his chest.

Joren shrieked.

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The door to Joren's room burst open. Kel - who had now come to the obvious conclusion she was somehow trapped inside her gorgeous enemy's body - jumped, and wheeled around. She, clad in an old shirt and breeches that once belonged to her brother Anders, stood in the doorway, glaring fiercely at her from a face red as a tomato.

"You…you bitch," her other self hissed. "I don't know what you did, you witch, but you better fix it!"

"Who are - Joren?!"

"Yes, Mindelan, it's me, Joren, the man you switched godsdamn bodies with!" he screamed.

"I couldn't do that!" she squeaked, trying to place her Yamani Lump face on and failing utterly. "I have no Gift or wild magic or anything!"

By that time they had drawn quite a crowd. Nealan of Queenscove, Kel's best friend, and several others she knew were bunched in the doorway, deep puzzlement evident on their faces. Joren's friends - or, better yet, acquaintances, for Joren had no friends - were also huddled in the door. Low murmurs accompanied the harsh bellows Kel and Joren exchanged.

"You stupid slut," Joren roared. "What the hell did you fucking do?"

"I didn't do anything, you fastidious, egotistical queer blond," Kel shrieked back, her rarely seen temper snapping and exploding completely. "I don't have a Gift!"

The situation went completely out of hand, with wide-eyed boys staring at the half-naked Joren and a beet-red Kel.

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"I don't understand this," Neal muttered to Merric of Hollyrose. "Joren is calling Kel a queer and Kel is calling Joren a slut. Is this mixed up, or did I just miss something?"

"If you missed something, then I sure missed it too," Seaver of Tasride whispered. "Because I don't get any of this."

"I have a question," Garvey of Runnerspring declared. "Why is Mindelan in Joren's room?"

Kel wheeled around. "Just shut up, you asshole," she shrieked. "You nosy pansy-assed bitch, can't you just shut up for one measly second! And for your information - I am not Mindelan!"

Silence.

"Uh, sure, Kel," Merric said uneasily. "If you say so."

"I'm not Mindelan," Kel roared. "I'm Joren!"

A snort escaped Vinson of Genlith before he could prevent it, his acne-marred face breaking into a broad smirk. "Joren? You wish." He turned to the glaring blond. "Tell us what's going on."

Joren glared at the lanky youth. "Don't talk to me," he said crisply. The strangest expression crossed his face - it deeply reminded one of the Yamani Lump face Kel frequently used. But Joren would never have even learned that face, even less use it. Boys could barely hear him mutter under his breath, "I am stone, I am a lake on a clear summer's day…"

A tall dark-haired man shoved his way to the front, and took in the situation with his large grave eyes. He sighed.

"So this is what the blobs do," Numair murmured, earning strange looks from his neighbors. "Keladry, Joren - get dressed, and follow me. I believe I can sort this out…"

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Okay. Updated. Happy? ::grins:: Ten points to whoever can guess what the sticky stuff that was covering Joren's thighs were...(hint: he was dreaming of a lady - what does that tell you?)