o-o-o-o-o

Joren doesn't like the girl.

He'd been all set to give her the benefit of the doubt when they'd been joking about how they'd get a pretty little noblewoman to look at all day, wearing those cute Rider-style pants.

Garvey'd said, "Don't worry, Joren! You're still the prettiest!"

Vinson replied, "Shut up, Garvey!"

And Zahir had muttered "Women should stay behind the veil," which Joren had thought pretty intolerant considering Zahir's status as first Bazhir knight-in-training. He'd kindly not mentioned it at the time.

o-o-o-o-o

All this changes, though, when they finally lay eyes on her. She is plain, she is boring, she is wearing a frumpy dress, she is too tall, too muscular, and she doesn't move. Her eyes barely move. Joren wants to spasm just to maintain a balance in the room.

No one picks her to be their special friend. Joren is so surprised.

Joren has, however, been planning on volunteering to chaperone the pretty but unhappily fictitious page-girl of his dreams, not least because it will annoy his parents, and he is at that stage of his life. Since it will still annoy them, he figures, why not, and offers his services. He may leer just a little – to absolutely no response. Actually, less than a response. She – no, "it" – leeches out a piece of his soul into its vacuum of non-responsiveness.

This is around the time that Joren starts to call it the Lump.

This is also the time that Wyldon decides to let it hang about with Queenscove instead of with him (Joren is not sure if this makes the Lump scowl a little, or not, but he is still wildly and improbably jealous. How is Queenscove more worthy of her reaction?). Wyldon is not happy with the arrangement, Joren notices, but Joren has also been noticing that Wyldon dislikes in every respect having the Lump in his general vicinity. Joren decides that this is grounds to expedite the Lump's expulsion from its lowly palatial residence.

"I wish you'd stop pretending to be a lawyer. I can never understand you when you get like this."

"It's alright, Garvey," replies Vinson. "You'll understand when you're smarter."

"What are you suggesting?" Zahir asks.

("See?" says Garvey, "Zahir doesn't get him either." "Shut up, Garvey," says Vinson. "…Oh," says Garvey.)

"Maybe," Joren says. "Maybe we should go and make sure she feels unwelcome."

"…Fine," says Zahir. "But I refuse this time to urinate upon any of her belongings."

"I'll do it," offers Garvey.

o-o-o-o-o

The Lump does not acknowledge the damage done to her room. The Lump also does not acknowledge any damage done to her room over the next month. He leaves her a specially-weighted lance and gets a bit of facial manoeuvring (thrilling!). It's like a chess match with an opponent who refuses to give an inch.

But his biggest coup is when he's picking on some page in frustration. The Lump defends the page, but runs away indecisively. He can see he's got her – and he does. She comes back the next day and takes on Joren, Zahir, Vinson and Garvey, all by herself, and it's amazing. Of course, the range of her expressions is fair to middling for a normal human being, but at this point Joren will take what he can get.

For a couple of months, it's glorious.

And then the Lump ruins it by bringing around her study group. Of all things. Joren can't take on so many without risking extreme personal injury. Zahir quits on him too, declaring the whole thing "too much pigtail pulling for me, Joren of Stone Mountain. I have been impressed by your resourcefulness and I wish you well, but in several months there are exams, and to pass them I must study."

"I'm not…!" Joren says.

"This is getting very boring." Zahir looks at him sternly, and Joren wilts like a delicate flower.

o-o-o-o-o

Joren looks at it as impersonally as possible: is he, perhaps, improbably lusting after the Lump? He has been obsessed with making Keladry of Mindelan's life as miserable as possible for years now, for the sole purpose of having her acknowledge his presence enough to react to it. This has cost him the respect of Lord Wyldon, to whom he is no longer the favourite, but gained him the support of his family ("Now if only you would give up being friends with that Zahir boy. Oh, I'm sure he's lovely, darling, but I just don't think he should be awarded a knighthood.") who are so intolerant to change that Joren fully expects them to refuse to die, just on principle (and because they can not fit it into the schedule between lunch and meetings – he loves them, but Mithros, it can be tiresome).

His lovelife is… well, it's good. Sort of. He is fending off women with a stick, but this is "actually much more wearying than it sounds," he explains to poor, hapless in love Vinson. Maybe when Vinson's acne clears?

"Sure," says Vinson.

But it's true. He never keeps any of them for more than a week, as they get needy and very hard to disperse after that point. Imagine wanting to marry someone you'd met after a week. Joren despairs of the women he meets. They're all so… trained.

This is getting Joren nowhere, though. He still hasn't answered whether or not he has a thing for her Lady Lumpiness. It makes him annoyed just to think of it.

In any case, the small taunts and barbs he's been reduced to throwing her way escalate in a dramatic way. Now it's personal.

He kidnaps her maid. It turns out that this is not one of his better ideas.

o-o-o-o-o

Joren leaves with his Knightmaster (was that a sigh of relief on Keladry's face?) and it is excellent. He clears his head and gets a new perspective on life, fuelled by the teachings of his patron. As there is no Lump to make miserable, Joren spends much more time on training, and finds that he is actually quite good at the duties of a knight. He enjoys it.

Of course, at some point, he has to go back.

o-o-o-o-o

His run-in with Kel is… well, it's stilted and awkward. She's giving him a suspicious look which makes him feel all squirmy – made worse by the fact that now that he's older and wiser, he can admit to himself that she is attractive in her own way.

That's right. He is, and probably has been for a while now, totally obsessed with one Keladry of Mindelan.

Unfortunately, she's still avoiding his company.

He doesn't actually see her until his Ordeal. Actually, he sees her from inside the Chamber of the Ordeal. She is making out with, in fact she is all over – is that Lerant of Eldorne? – in a supply closet not twenty feet away from him. It wasn't like Joren was particularly enjoying his Ordeal up until now, and it is just his lot that Joren can't say anything. He hopes that someone is being horribly used in this terribly cruel and ironic scenario.

Joren has never seen Kel look at someone this way before.

They break apart (finally) and say something or other, and then Kel walks over to him and offers up her hand. He looks at it dumbly and she says to him, "Take it. Make it through this."

Behind her are all the people she's saved, all the people who respect her and give her grudging loyalty, looking at him with watery pleading eyes (except for Lerant. His gaze is jumping rabidly between Joren and Kel like one or both of them is exceptionally crazy, and he's afraid to be in the room at the same time as them – or maybe that's just Lerant. Joren can admit he doesn't know him well).

It's awful. It's laughable. It's excruciating. Joren can't bear to be one of her many followers. He doesn't want to be second pickings after gods-damned Lerant of Eldorne. He does not wish to be given Keladry of Mindelan's forgiveness or her help. Not to mention that he utterly does not deserve it. All the time spent with his Knightmaster training to be a calmer and better person goes completely out the window, and he slaps her hand away furiously. He seethes, but not audibly, as that's probably not allowed during the Ordeal. And then he thinks, Why not? This isn't real anyway, and whips his hand around to punch her. For old time's sake.

The last thing Joren of Stone Mountain remembers is Kel's face, stonily disapproving, and his own answering rage.

o-o-o-o-o