(Just a bit of fluff I wrote to amuse myself. Hope ya'll enjoy ^_^)

Kel's Bad Day

Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan, Protector of the Small, the first woman to train openly as a knight in over a century, widely regarded as the best knight of her age group, a decorated war-hero and accomplished warrior, squeaked as the strip of pointed metal she was clumsily navigating pricked her finger.

"Remind me why I agreed to try this?" she asked of her best friend, Nealan of Queenscove, blotting the tiny drop of blood which oozed from the end of her calloused finger. Neal regarded the fabric she was attempting to embroider with amused interest over the top of his book.

"I thought you were doing a griffin?" he asked, confused. "Was that too hard?"

She stared at her work, embarrassed.

"It is a griffin. Look – there's a wing, and a beak, and a paw..."

"Oh." He blinked, surprised. "I thought it was a sunset. I was going to say it looked quite pretty... Is there a reason your griffin is so... round?"

She glared at him. Unholy amusement shone in her friend's eyes.

"It's been feeding on my blood." She held out her finger for his inspection. In a touch of green fire, the wound scabbed and healed, courtesy of Neal's magic.

"Even his memory causes you pain." They grinned, neither forgetting the tapestry of scars left over from Kel's unwitting adoption of a baby griffin almost seven years ago.

"This is confirmation, if I ever needed it, that a convent education wouldn't have suited me." Kel eyed the, bloodied circle of silk with disgust. "'Oh, Lady Kel, it's so easy, even a knight could do it!', 'My lady, girls of ten learn to embroider with no trouble', 'Oh, no my lady, an hour of sewing won't leave you wanting to clobber the nearest conservative you find on the head with your embroidery frame-'"

Neal was shaking with laughter over his friend's impression of her squire, Fianola. An excellent fencer and rider with a talent for cool, practical thinking in a crisis, she seemed like the last person to show interest in embroidery, but the girl was passionate about it, even convincing her knight mistress to study the art.

The two knights had known each other for over a decade and could communicate with all the maturity and decorum of their years.

She threw a book at his head.

"At least Lalasa was sensible," she muttered, forlorn, as Neal clutched his forehead. "She would scream and shout for the palace guards if I ever went near her sewing kit."

"I'm going to ban you from being near books one of these days." Neal was still grinning at his moping friend. Ordinarily the soul of repose, Kel's Yamani-like stillness had taken a knock at the attempt at embroidery. A small, healerish part of Neal's brain suspected her monthlies had also arrived, but there were several deaths he would endure before asking. If he did ask, he suspected he'd endure several more. "That helion Jesslaw would help – he's mad over books."

"Owen's no helion," Kel pointed out fairly, "he's just... enthusiastic."

"And the Stump is just a little set in his ways," Neal sniffed, referring to their highly conservative former training-master. Kel wrinkled her nose – she liked Wyldon, but the man was enamoured with tradition. Still, his youngest daughter had joined the Queen's Ladies – a group of young women who could wait on Queen Thayet at social functions and keep up with her in a fight – months earlier so maybe Neal wasn't giving him enough credit.

"I should just forget about this exercise in torture and go hit something," she murmurred, turning back to her work. "Volunteer?"

Neal's winged eyebrows raised as his returned to his book.

"My dear Lady Knight, I've been on border patrol the past fortnight and tonight am expected to accompany my father to deal with some of the prickliest conservatives the realm has to offer without offending a single one of them – I will enjoy my book in peace if it's all the same."

Kel winced in sympathy. One perk of being the realm's second Lady Knight was that she would never be expected to play nice with conservatives.

"If I had to do that, I'd want to hit something," she pointed out, jabbing her needle through the silk. Maybe if she was aggressive enough, the material would get the message and turn itself into a work of art.

"And you are a violent bumpkin," Neal retorted with a sniff. "Hitting things is what you do because you lack imagination."

"You mean, I'm too polite to sharpen my tongue on anyone I don't like," she interpreted mildly.

"Precisely." Kel rolled her eyes in a most unYamani-like way. "Go find Jesslaw – he's the only one mad enough to tilt with you these days."

"I promised Fion I'd finish at least one screen today," Kel responded gloomily. Knocking a friend off his horse with fourteen feet of weighted timber sounded like heaven. For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, the material snared under the embroidery frame and wiggled loose. Wanting to scream in frustration, she removed the frame and took several calming breaths. Her composure had survived fighting a war, four years with the King's Own and dealing with patriarchal prejudice for the better part of a decade as she trained as a knight. It would not be foiled now by a ten inch diameter circle of silk. Setting down her work, she went to fetch herself a glass of water from the pitcher that stood by the window.

Sparrows formed a line in front of the window, peering curiously at her work.

"It's something noblewomen have to do," she explained tiredly. These were far more intelligent than ordinary birds, having been influenced by the magic of Daine, the wildmage. They'd helped her too often in battle for her to ignore them now. "I escaped through being a knight, but when noble families want to torture their daughters, they make them embroider."

It was a bad thing to say. Her birds may have understood speech, but sarcasm was beyond them.

Four sparrows darted into her room to seize her sewing and carrying it out of the open upper shutters. For a moment, all she could do was gape in horror, before she was shouting, "no wait, bring that back! I was joking!" and darting out of the lower shutters.

Comfortable in his seat, Neal allowed himself a grin as he continued to flip through his book. He decided against telling his friend she was still wearing her indoor-slippers.

Lerant of Eldorne and Domitan of Masbolle lounged on the fence by the Own's practice courts. Both young men were sweating and panting with the exercise of several fencing matches and were content to take a break and watch the training of their peers.

"So, did I see you taking advantage of that young Coralie Rice earlier, Eldorne?" Dom asked teasingly, naming a pretty young trainee rider. Lerant scowled.

"I was only showing her how to saddle her horse," he responded, beat red. "Not everything is about pretty girls, you know."

Dom grinned.

"You'll learn, young Lerant," he assured him. "There's nothing like being a bachelor to show you how important pretty girls are. Though maybe you should try someone who can't beat you into a puddle."

Lerant snorted ungallantly.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's advice you follow yourself," he muttered. Dom was unruffled.

"I can't think of what you mean," he said evenly, fanning himself against the midday sun.

"And you haven't been besotted over a Lady Knight since last midwinter," Lerant asked, face deadpan. "Personally, I'd've thought you'd have better taste-"

Dom flushed slightly.

"You're no gentleman," he accused. "Besides, it's... it's a forbidden love."

Lerant's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected a confession.

"That's right," Dom continued, shame-faced. "I – a captain of the King's Own, whose duties keep me from the loving arms of another. And she, a ferocious warrior and Lady Knight of the Realm, the loveliest creature I've ever seen, trapped in a marriage to a baron."

"What-?"

"But I shall let my love for the Lady Knight be known at last – The Lioness and I are devoted- Ouch!"

Lerant elbowed the older man in the ribs, hard, trying not to laugh.

"That isn't who I meant, and you know it."

Dom smiled, but it was a bland, all purpose smile.

"I think gossip spreads too quickly in this-"

"Kel!" Lerant gaped at the young woman who was crossing the courtyard, neck craned as her eyes darted above her. Anyone else would look half wild with hair mussed from a long run and clad in what appeared to be slippers but the Lady Knight's actions appeared deliberate. At Lerant's voice, she looked up at the two young men and went very faintly pink.

"Dom, Lerant..." Clearly, they weren't who she'd wanted to see.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Lady Knight?" Dom was grinning unapologetically at the sight of the young woman.

"Well, I suppose, maybe..." she seemed a little confused, as though trying to figure out how she'd gotten there. "I'm erm... I was trying to find some sparrows."

It was a credit to their friendship that neither man laughed. Well, Lerant had broken into a fit of giggles, but they weren't friends. Dom wasn't laughing – that was what mattered. That he'd seen her in this state was humiliating, but his handsome smile was as friendly as ever.

"I thought those things were tame?" he asked, eyes questioning.

"Well, they are," Kel agreed, fumbling for an explanation. "They – they have something of mine."

"What?" Lerant asked, having calmed down.

"Just something." Kel would not have it spread round the King's Own that a group of birds had stolen her attempts at embroidery.

"You could find the wildmage?" Dom suggested. "Or have Jump find them?"

"You could whistle and hope for the best." was Lerant's dry suggestion.

"No, I'll keep – there!" Both men turned to face where the knight had begun to spring. A group of sparrows sat on a low tree branch, clutching some fabric in their beaks and claws. As one, they flew away from Kel as she chased them, cursing.

Lerant turned to Dom, one eyebrow raised. The captain was staring after the knight, slightly goofy smile in place.

"I really thought you had better taste." the standard bearer sniffed.

They had landed on top of a flagpole next to a sycamore tree. Gritting her teeth and thanking the gods that she'd lost her fear of heights when forced to climb Balor's Needle as a page, Kel swung herself onto the lowest branch and began to climb.

"I need that back, please," she asked the birds desperately. "I worked nearly an hour on that..."

The birds peeped at her and waited until she was high enough to reach them before taking flight. Dimly aware that they were making fun of her, Kel threw all the Tortallan swearwords she knew at them before moving onto curses in Yamani and Scanran.

In her hurry to reach the bottom, she acquired several scrapes along her arms, lost a slipper and collected an assortment of leaves and twigs in her hair.

Rubbing sap off her hands, she looked up and swallowed. Before her, having journeyed from the castle for a walk about the grounds, stood Queen Thayet, Shinko, Yuki, Ilane of Mindelan and, worst of all, Alanna the Lioness.

The Yamanis and her mother kept their faces still, the queen smiled slightly and the Lioness grinned broadly at her fellow Lady Knight.

"Admiring the view, Kel?" she asked, wickedly amused.

"I..." Not wishing to explain to anyone else that she'd been sparrow-hunting, her mind raced. "I was testing my fear of heights," she finished, thankful that her face would keep still. "It's been a while since I was last on a height and I had nothing to do with my morning..."

"A sensible passtime," Ilane of Mindelan assured her youngest daughter. "Who knows when the gods will next test you by sending you up a height? And I see you've decided to further test yourself by wearing slippers for the climb. Such dedication."

Flushing slightly, Kel retrieved the slipped that had fallen during her descent.

"Who knows how I will next be tried?" she agreed, pulling a leaf from her hair. "If you'll excuse me?"

Bowing to the collection of ladies, all of whom she respected enough to hope they'd never see her in such a situation again, she waited until she was out of sight before sprinting after the errant birds.

She was very familiar with the curtain wall around the palace, having often ran it as a page. It was here the birds led her next, always peeping just ahead of her. She hoped that if she played along for long enough, they'd give her the material and let her continue on her way. At least this time there was nobody to see her chase the birds... Rounding a bend, she ground to a halt. Seeing the queen and her ladies had been embarrassing, but at least she knew and liked them. The next group she saw made her squeeze her eyes shut as she backed away slowly...

"Lady Keladry," King Jonathan of Conte smiled – it was an attractive smile, but entirely unwelcome a that moment – at his subject.

"Your majesty," she bowed, humiliated. The King stood by a group of pages along with Padraig HaMinch, the training master and – to her intense embarrassment – Lord Wyldon of Cavall. "My Lords," she bowed. They were obviously here for a training exercise.

"I'm glad to see you," the king beckoned her forwards. She couldn't disobey a direct order from her king, though she wished she could hide her disheveled appearance from these important men. "Lord Padraig, Lord Wyldon and I were giving the pages a lesson in strategy – we were to draw on Lord Wyldon's experience in the Scanran wars and now perhaps we could pick your brain too? Unless you're preoccupied, of course."

The king diplomatically avoided mention of her appearance, but she felt Wyldon's eyes upon her and saw his mouth twitch. He hadn't taught his pages sloppiness.

"Of course, your majesty," she bowed, restraining a sigh. Those birds were probably miles away by now.

"The Lady Knight was placed in command of a refugee camp," Wyldon informed the pages, who tried not to stare. "At the time, of course, she was wearing outdoor shoes."

Twenty minutes later, she descended the curtain wall, leaving the pages to their run. She'd lost track of the birds – she'd have to go to Daine after all. There was no surprise when she saw Buri and Raoul, her former knight-master, approach the barracks, crossing her path. No surprise at all, merely resignation.

"Kel," Raoul grinned at her. She tried to smile in return, but it felt like a grimace.

"Hello Raoul, Buri."

The former commander of the Queen's Riders was smiling broadly.

"You know you're wearing-"

"Slippers? Oh my, how did they get there?" She didn't need to worry about offending the couple – both Raoul and Buri were unflappable.

"Bad day, Kel?" Raoul's grin should be illegal. "Don't worry, we've all been there."

"At least I'm wearing comfy shoes," she joked weakly.

As she trudged back to her rooms, Kel's shoulders slumped. The hour's work she'd put into the embroidery had been wasted and she'd been chasing the birds for the better part of another hour. She despised wasting her time like that. Going to open her door, a pretty voice stopped her.

"Keladry," turning, she found the speaker to be a young, pretty woman with blue-grey eyes and a tumble of smoky-brown curls. She was accompanied by two cats, a pretty blue dragon and, cure them, four innocent-looking sparrows.

"There you are," the wildmage continued with a smile. "I've been looking for you."

"How can I help you?" She thought she saw a wicked gleam in Daine's eyes, but chose not to comment.

"Your friends found me about half an hour ago," she explained, gesturing to the sparrows. "I think they wanted to give you this."

She held out a circle of silk with a grin. Kel accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks," she said sincerely, examining it. To her chagrin, one or two droppings marred the surface, which was still stained with spots of her blood, causing her shoulders to slump.

"Oh, Kitten can fix that," Daine pointed to her companion. The dragon held her dusty blue tail as a lady would hold the train of a gown and gestured gracefully for Kel to show her the silk. Kneeling, she held out her work and gaped in awe as the dragon let out a low whistle, cleaning the fabric easily of dirt and creases.

"That's pretty," Daine commented. "A nice sunset."

"It's a griffin," Kel explained, embarrassed. "See, those are the wings..."

For a moment, Daine looked doubtful, before a polite smile took over her face.

"Oh, yes. Of course it's a griffin." Tickling the chin of the kitten who'd attached itself to the mage, Daine straightened. "It was nice to see you Kel."

"And you, Daine." Her face was turning to a lump of Yamani wood as Daine turned at set off down the corridor.

Fionola knocked on her knight mistress's door later that afternoon. Her day off had been productively spent with a trip to the stables, two bells in the library and a visit to the market with her sister, but she wanted to check Kel's progress at embroidery. Inside the room, Nealan of Queenscove lounged on a chair with a mostly-finished book, a bit of a grin on his face, while Kel snipped off a bit of thread from a sheet of silk.

"Are you done?" Fionola asked, excited. As much as she loved her squire work, she would always be passionate about sewing. Wordless, the knight held her work out to the squire who squinted at it.

"That's very pretty," she said approvingly. "Your stitches are a bit uneven, but for a first attempt... My first embroidery was a sunset too."

Keladry met her squire's eyes, face unreadable. From where he sat, Neal attempted to hide his fit of laughter behind a series of coughs.

"Squire Fionola," Kel began sweetly, "I don't believe I've given you any jousting lessons yet have I?"

The girl shook her head, excited.

"You'll learn," the Lady Knight told her mysteriously. "Who knows, if I tire out, perhaps Lord Raoul of Goldenlake could take you for a pass or two."

Neal winced in sympathy.