Series of drabbles based on Alanna's generation, I'm getting nowhere with the Eyes of an Empress story...so this is a way of procrastinating on that, yet still not feeling guilty over not writing. In other words, these drabbles are products of my writer's block. Now there's a sentence that can be debated over...anyways, read and review please - (see? I said please...)

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By Name of Cooper ---

Contrary to his mother's belief, George did take her story to heart.

He is proud of his ancestress, and thinks about the well worn figure every night before he falls asleep with two daggers within hand's reach. Strange that he should feel as he does, that the fire-spirited girl who became the Lady Provost was so similar to him, a common thief. He can't help wondering who had been the Rogue in her time, but he's sure they would've been the bitterest of enemies. But really, what difference is there? She spent her life fighting for justice, and to be sure, George's life will be for avoiding it. But from the diary he's read hungrily, countless times over, she did everything she did for the sake of the Lower City, and there's not sentence in the world that can better describes what he feels. Because regardless of whether his mother used to be a priestess of the Goddess, he was raised in the Lower City, and this is his world.

He may be but seventeen, but he's not as idealistic to believe of a world without crime. There'll always be thievery, murder, rape, and…pleasure girls, just as sure as the rich are born into luxury. And he knows that the Court of the Rogue is just a way of regulating all this, of binding alliances, so that the city's poor don't run wild.

He wants to rise in this world, crooked though it be… he wants the name of Cooper to be known by all again. She did it by going up through the kennel ranks, he's going to do it a very different way. But in the end, he just wants to protect the City and Court that he knows so well, and so he rather thinks that his ancestress would approve (his mother surely won't).

George places the figure of Rebekah Cooper back inside the box, pulls out quill and paper and begins to write a short missive…

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Majesty,

A challenge for your throne, the Dancing Dove, noon tomorrow.

George Cooper

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He places the box back in the hidey-nook before calling for a messenger bird. The Rogue will get the message tonight, and tomorrow…they will see.