His sapphire eyes remained unmoving as the young boys slowly exited his classroom, joking and messing with each other. His gaze remained carefully neutral as he stared after his younger cousin and his kinsman's famed squire, Alan of Trebond.
Roger began to stroke his beard as he thought about the lad, his mysterious disappearances, his reluctance to dance with the palace ladies, and overall his lack of enthusiasm to do with anything to do with women. He had first thought the lad was ashamed of his manhood, being so small in stature it was only expected. Then he had though that perhaps Alan was a man-lover, being so close to his knightmaster and with no inclination to any women. All his theories, however, were put to rest after a stroll through the palace gardens in an attempt to clear his head.
Smiling wryly, Roger closed the wooden door to his room with his magic and sank lower into his chair, pondering. It had been completely unexpected, though not unwelcomed, the revelation that Alan of Trebond, squire to the prince, was, in fact, a girl. The information was such that it would cause chaos among the nobles if they found out a girl was squire to the heir of the throne.
Never being one to jump without thought into situations, he had waited, his mind continuously replaying the scene he had walked past. As always, when he thought about "Alan" his mind was launched into the memory of perhaps the greatest moment in his life.
The sweet scent of roses in full bloom lay heavily in the air, with only a gentle breeze winding its way through the garden carrying other delicious smells of flowers in season. Sighing, Roger leaned down to inhale the intoxicating fragrance of Dianthus, the breeze lightly brushing strands of midnight hair across his forehead.
Hearing movement, he quickly straightened. He would not be seen inhaling the scent of flowers! He was, after all, an incredibly powerful sorcerer. A soft voice carried on the breeze, and a frown crossed his elegant features for the briefest of moments; he knew that voice.
Hearing his cousin answer, "I guessed. And when I saw how you walked, I was sure," Roger blinked and then slowly slunk forward, willing to foul his fine silk clothing to see who Jonathan was talking to.
The mysterious companion's reply was lost to the wind and Roger saw his cousin reach forward and place his hands on her tanned skin. "What's this?" His cousin's voice was low and warm, and Roger looked on in curiosity.
A loud calling on the ramparts announced the change of guard, and Roger frowned in annoyance. The woman's, for it was obviously a woman, judging by her shape and voice, answer was drowned out by the clanging bells.
Peering through some roses, Roger watched as his cousin leaned in and quickly kissed her, softly and passionately. Sighing, the Duke almost got to his feet, it wasn't unusual -the heir kissing the ladies, fr he was frequently accompanied to his bed by a beautiful woman. What was unusual was the snippets of the conversation Roger had heard, so he peered even harder into the shadows.
The veil of clouds obscuring the moonlight shifted, and beams of silver bolted across the sky. Roger fell back in shock. Jonathan, Prince of Tortall and heir to the throne was kissing Squire Alan! Hurriedly muffling his movements, the duke pulled the roses apart, ignoring the thorns digging into his soft skin and watched in wonder as Squire Alan pushed his knightmaster away from him. "No! I was crazy to think- Jonathan, please!"
"You're fighting what has to be, and you know it as well as I do."
"I know no such thing," Squire Alan stammered before confirming Rogers revelation that he was in fact a she by, stating she would never love a man, and it was all because of moonlight and silliness she almost broke that promise.
Roger smiled to himself, his heart only now beginning to quell its stampeding. Oh, yes, he could use this to his advantage. Slipping away into the nigh,t he broke a Dianthus from its shrub and tucked it into his collar, the smell making him instantly smile. So with a beam, the duke returned to his chambers, a spark igniting in his eye. Squire Alan was a girl!
In the garden, white sap oozed from the cut stem of the Dianthus and dripped onto the grass, looking like blood against the fallen petals.
Picking the single Dianthus from his desk he inhaled the sweet scent and began to plan the downfall of his cousin.
Authors Note: All recognizable lines and situations ( eg. The night Alanna and Jon have sex) belong to the fabulous Tamora Pierce and were essential to the (near) perfection of this fic. Plagiarism is not intended. Quotes from page 138-140 of In the Hand of the Goddess paperback novel.
Tamora Pierce will one day rule the world!
'Kay, so not sure how far this will go... thought about making it an addition of the Goldenlake Smackdown but at the moment it wouldn't qualify... Anyway, review, and lemme know what ya think and maybe Ill write some more :D
Regards, Con Dar Lioness