KOTLC Sokeefe One-Shots, Alternate Endings, etc

Sparring Match (Keefe POV)

When Keefe insisted on being seen as Mercadir, he somehow hadn't expected to be forced into a sparring match with King Dimitar.

But he kept his composure. He was fairly confident the ogre king wouldn't kill him. And he was going to do everything in his power to win.

He had a few tricks up his sleeve. He wasn't completely useless. He'd been working out. He knew his muscles--which he was super proud of and honestly hoped Foster noticed--were nothing compared to an ogre's, but lengthy exercise meant that his endurance was pretty good. He'd also been honing his elvin skills--an advantage he had over King Dimitar.

He knew he couldn't fight Dimitar without them. They were his only chance, really.

He tried not to focus on the fact that the journey to Ravagog had left him weak and wobbly.

He could do this.

Especially since it meant he'd gotten his wish, and Foster would be safe.

So he focused on that truth instead, and on the fact that he was a more formidable opponent than Dimitar expected.

Dude really seemed to hate elves.

Then, Keefe was even more thrown by the phrase "I'll allow him to keep his pants."

Um...what?

Keefe would be forever grateful he didn't have to wear one of those hideous metal diapers. Especially in front of Foster.

Foster, whose panic was somehow incredibly endearing while also slightly insulting.

It was making him queasy, to be honest. Especially when she grabbed his hands--making her emotions more intense with the contact--and said, "stop treating this like a joke! You realize the best-case scenario here is that you get seriously wounded, right?"

He grinned.

He was going to show her what he was capable of.

Today, he was going to be the hero.

"You really are adorable when you worry," he told her. And she really was--especially when she worried about him. "But you don't need to. I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't know I can handle it. See?"

He pulled his hands free--somewhat reluctantly--and showed her how steady they were.

It was a good thing he was so good at hiding his emotions, because he was kind of nervous--especially since his stomach and equilibrium still hadn't fully recovered from the journey into Ravagog--but Foster didn't need to know that. It would only scare her even more. And he was confident that they'd both leave Ravagog in one piece today.

A little bit of pain was worth it to protect the one he...

Nope. Not going to say that word, not even to himself.

He'd been trying to convince himself that wasn't what it was. A crush, sure. True, genuine, even deep feelings for her? Fine. But to give it a name--no matter how accurate it may be--made everything way too real when she didn't even realize she felt the same way. And they were so young. If he admitted it to himself, then eventually he'd say it out loud, and send her running away screaming in fear because they were young and she was crushing on someone else.

So he merely handed her his cape and started unbuttoning first his jerkin, then his shirt, before handing them to her and moving over to where Dimitar was selecting his weapon.

No amount of her begging changed the king's mind.

And her panic didn't fully mask the strange fluttery feeling buried underneath. So she was impressed by his muscles--not that she would ever admit it.