Alanna of Trebond, better known as Alan to everyone at the palace,
was having a good year, for the most part. She was squire to Prince
Jonathan, nearly as good as Alex in swordsmanship, and was good friends
with the King of the Rogues. The most important thing, though, was that
Alanna had made it through six years of disguising herself as a boy with no
one guessing. Page training was over, and she was halfway through being a
squire. The worst spot in her life was Roger, the duke of Conté. She was
deathly afraid that he would kill Jon, but since she had no proof, what
could she do?
As she was walking through the palace, Alanna was pondering this important question. It wasn't until she was wandering through the mages' wing that she even realized how far from her rooms she was. With a sigh, Alanna turned around and accidentally stumbled into a door.
The angry face of an elderly mage popped out of the room, yelling and screaming at Alanna. She backed away, saying, "I'm sorry sire! I truly did not mean to!" The elderly mage's expression did not change as he glared at her in fury and gestured wildly in her direction. Alanna screamed in terror as her world dissolved around her. It's okay, the rational part of her brain informed her. Jon will make this crazy mage pay. George will find me... it won't be long until I'm back at the palace again. You can't take away the Prince's squire and come off with nothing to pay! This was her (semi) comforting thought as she slowly closed her eyes, willing herself to rest. Maybe this is all a dream...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Sixteen-year-old Melissa Peikmik tied her cleats, getting ready for the big soccer game coming up in just an hour. This was the game against their huge rivals, the Lions, and Melissa would be there on time if she had to wreck three hundred other cars on the way to the field. She was sure to put a change of clothes in her bag for after the game, knowing that the team might go out for pizza or something to celebrate if they won. Grabbing her keys, she yelled, "Mom! I'm going to Clayton Field for the game! Be back later!" and dashed out to the driveway, where her car stayed while not in use, as there was no more room in the garage..
She opened the door of her silver Saturn, which she had just bought two months before. After throwing her red sports bag onto the passenger seat, she put the key in the ignition and backed up to go pick up her friend Becca.
"Mel! Hey!" Becca called as Melissa threw her bag into the backseat. No matter how hard she tried, she knew that she would never be able to convince her teammates that her name was not, repeat not, "Mel." Most people had given up her childhood name, but some people were just die- hards. "All right," Becca said, buckling herself into the front seat. "Let's go kick the Lions' butts!" They zoomed off as Melissa began to lecture Becca about how now they were going to be late.
As always, Melissa was overreacting a little. They made it to the field with plenty of time, and when the game started, both of them were perfectly warmed up and stretched. "Kick grass!" the team cheered, and made their way onto the field.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * Goddess, please let me be back in the palace. Please... Alanna thought, knowing that this was just barely possible. Gods, surely the Trebonds have some stored up luck from something, oh please. I have to be in the palace. I absolutely have to be! Braving the inevitable, she opened her eyes and looked around.
Immediately Alanna wished that she hadn't. "Oh, Mithros," she whispered as she searched this... well, whatever it was, it had grass on it—for anything familiar. Standing stock-still, Alanna hoped that maybe, if she just closed her eyes and prayed for a second, she would be transported back to the palace or wake up from this strange dream.
It didn't work.
Alanna let out a little moan of despair as she glanced around once more. Whatever these girls were doing, it seemed to be ending, but... wait! Are these girls? They're wearing very, very short breeches! Oh Goddess, they're showing the world their legs! But I bet they're extremely comfortable... The two parts of Alanna's mind, conventional and progressive, battled as she looked at the girls' strange clothing. Well, it's not dresses, she thought wryly. But then, running and kicking that ball would be awfully hard to do in dresses. Maybe it's some kind of new practice drill that I can report to the training master!
Well, whatever she was doing here, at least they weren't wearing
dresses.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
Running off the field, Melissa's team screamed triumphantly. The Lions followed behind more slowly, trudging in their victorious footsteps to reach a frustrated coach. "We did it!" a teammate, Lea, called out. Melissa winced as she saw the Lions' fierce goalkeeper start to tell Lea to shut her mouth and stop gloating. She had been under the wrath of Number 8 many times before.
As Melissa slowed to a jog and then a walk, she noticed a stranger standing on the far edge of the field. "Hey," Becca said happily as she walked over and noticed the stranger. "Looks like they just wandered out of a Renaissance festival!" Melissa had to smile—this stranger did look more than a little out of place. From this distance, she couldn't tell if the stranger was male or female, so Melissa jogged over to find out.
"Hi!" Melissa called once she was a few yards away. The stranger jolted as s/he realized that Melissa's comment was directed toward him/her. I wonder if they're lost... "What's your name?"
Instead of answering Melissa's question, the stranger had one for her. "Where am I? What country?"
Could they be more clueless? Well, whatever. "Um. You're in the United States of America... in Pembrook, Texas. Are—are you lost or something? Would you like to use my cell phone?"
This information had done nothing to reassure the stranger. In fact, it made him (?) look more agitated. "What? I'm not in Tortall? I've never heard of this United States... and is Texas or Pembrook a country within a country? And what in Mithros' name is a cell phone?"
Is there a lunatic asylum nearby? Melissa thought, then instantly felt ashamed of herself. She never had been good at being nasty or sarcastic. "Well, I've never heard of Tortall, but, um, Texas and Pembrook aren't countries. Look, why don't you come with me..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alanna could not remember ever being more terrified. One of the girls showing her legs had come over to try to help and she could hardly say anything without sounding like a total and complete idiot. Obviously this girl couldn't tell whether Alanna was a girl or a boy, and she didn't know what was going on. Of course, neither did Alanna, but whatever. A terrible thought occurred to her—what if this was some other planet? What if this girl (Alanna didn't believe she had introduced herself) was sounding perfectly normal and Alanna was the one sounding like a half-wit? "Oh, Goddess," she whispered. Catching up to the girl, who had turned, she said, "What's your name?"
The girl flipped her light brown braid and said, "Melissa. Melissa Peikmik. Um, I have to catch up with my team, but if you want to come, you can. I'm sure someone could find you some clothes..."
"I'm Alanna of Trebond, squire to Prince Jonathan of Conté, the heir of Tortall," she announced proudly. After all, if being Jon's squire wasn't an honor, what was? She refused to think about the many court ladies who believed that having "fun" with him was a great honor, as well.
Melissa looked confused. "Why 'of Trebond'? Why not just Alanna Trebond? And what on earth do you mean by squire, or Prince Jonathan? I don't think people in general have squires much anymore, much less princes! I mean, look at Prince Harry. He hardly spends his time as with a squire or whatever. Do you need some clothes to borrow? 'Cause I'm sure a girl can lend you some..."
This world was stranger than Alanna had thought... Thom would be so much better at this. "A squire is a step in becoming a knight, which is the step that I am on. Prince Jonathan is the prince of Tortall, which most certainly exists. I am possibly insane, as insanity runs in my family, but it is probably in ways that do not concern you. I would most certainly like some clothes. Thank you very much for your hospitality in my time of need," she recited as if from a textbook.
Maybe people don't talk like that in... Pembrook, Alanna realized belatedly as Melissa stared, confused. Shrugging it off, she followed Melissa over to a group of girls to experience what Pembrook, Texas was like.
A/N: Please review! This is my first fanfic, but I'll take CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. No negativity please!
As she was walking through the palace, Alanna was pondering this important question. It wasn't until she was wandering through the mages' wing that she even realized how far from her rooms she was. With a sigh, Alanna turned around and accidentally stumbled into a door.
The angry face of an elderly mage popped out of the room, yelling and screaming at Alanna. She backed away, saying, "I'm sorry sire! I truly did not mean to!" The elderly mage's expression did not change as he glared at her in fury and gestured wildly in her direction. Alanna screamed in terror as her world dissolved around her. It's okay, the rational part of her brain informed her. Jon will make this crazy mage pay. George will find me... it won't be long until I'm back at the palace again. You can't take away the Prince's squire and come off with nothing to pay! This was her (semi) comforting thought as she slowly closed her eyes, willing herself to rest. Maybe this is all a dream...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Sixteen-year-old Melissa Peikmik tied her cleats, getting ready for the big soccer game coming up in just an hour. This was the game against their huge rivals, the Lions, and Melissa would be there on time if she had to wreck three hundred other cars on the way to the field. She was sure to put a change of clothes in her bag for after the game, knowing that the team might go out for pizza or something to celebrate if they won. Grabbing her keys, she yelled, "Mom! I'm going to Clayton Field for the game! Be back later!" and dashed out to the driveway, where her car stayed while not in use, as there was no more room in the garage..
She opened the door of her silver Saturn, which she had just bought two months before. After throwing her red sports bag onto the passenger seat, she put the key in the ignition and backed up to go pick up her friend Becca.
"Mel! Hey!" Becca called as Melissa threw her bag into the backseat. No matter how hard she tried, she knew that she would never be able to convince her teammates that her name was not, repeat not, "Mel." Most people had given up her childhood name, but some people were just die- hards. "All right," Becca said, buckling herself into the front seat. "Let's go kick the Lions' butts!" They zoomed off as Melissa began to lecture Becca about how now they were going to be late.
As always, Melissa was overreacting a little. They made it to the field with plenty of time, and when the game started, both of them were perfectly warmed up and stretched. "Kick grass!" the team cheered, and made their way onto the field.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * Goddess, please let me be back in the palace. Please... Alanna thought, knowing that this was just barely possible. Gods, surely the Trebonds have some stored up luck from something, oh please. I have to be in the palace. I absolutely have to be! Braving the inevitable, she opened her eyes and looked around.
Immediately Alanna wished that she hadn't. "Oh, Mithros," she whispered as she searched this... well, whatever it was, it had grass on it—for anything familiar. Standing stock-still, Alanna hoped that maybe, if she just closed her eyes and prayed for a second, she would be transported back to the palace or wake up from this strange dream.
It didn't work.
Alanna let out a little moan of despair as she glanced around once more. Whatever these girls were doing, it seemed to be ending, but... wait! Are these girls? They're wearing very, very short breeches! Oh Goddess, they're showing the world their legs! But I bet they're extremely comfortable... The two parts of Alanna's mind, conventional and progressive, battled as she looked at the girls' strange clothing. Well, it's not dresses, she thought wryly. But then, running and kicking that ball would be awfully hard to do in dresses. Maybe it's some kind of new practice drill that I can report to the training master!
Well, whatever she was doing here, at least they weren't wearing
dresses.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
Running off the field, Melissa's team screamed triumphantly. The Lions followed behind more slowly, trudging in their victorious footsteps to reach a frustrated coach. "We did it!" a teammate, Lea, called out. Melissa winced as she saw the Lions' fierce goalkeeper start to tell Lea to shut her mouth and stop gloating. She had been under the wrath of Number 8 many times before.
As Melissa slowed to a jog and then a walk, she noticed a stranger standing on the far edge of the field. "Hey," Becca said happily as she walked over and noticed the stranger. "Looks like they just wandered out of a Renaissance festival!" Melissa had to smile—this stranger did look more than a little out of place. From this distance, she couldn't tell if the stranger was male or female, so Melissa jogged over to find out.
"Hi!" Melissa called once she was a few yards away. The stranger jolted as s/he realized that Melissa's comment was directed toward him/her. I wonder if they're lost... "What's your name?"
Instead of answering Melissa's question, the stranger had one for her. "Where am I? What country?"
Could they be more clueless? Well, whatever. "Um. You're in the United States of America... in Pembrook, Texas. Are—are you lost or something? Would you like to use my cell phone?"
This information had done nothing to reassure the stranger. In fact, it made him (?) look more agitated. "What? I'm not in Tortall? I've never heard of this United States... and is Texas or Pembrook a country within a country? And what in Mithros' name is a cell phone?"
Is there a lunatic asylum nearby? Melissa thought, then instantly felt ashamed of herself. She never had been good at being nasty or sarcastic. "Well, I've never heard of Tortall, but, um, Texas and Pembrook aren't countries. Look, why don't you come with me..." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alanna could not remember ever being more terrified. One of the girls showing her legs had come over to try to help and she could hardly say anything without sounding like a total and complete idiot. Obviously this girl couldn't tell whether Alanna was a girl or a boy, and she didn't know what was going on. Of course, neither did Alanna, but whatever. A terrible thought occurred to her—what if this was some other planet? What if this girl (Alanna didn't believe she had introduced herself) was sounding perfectly normal and Alanna was the one sounding like a half-wit? "Oh, Goddess," she whispered. Catching up to the girl, who had turned, she said, "What's your name?"
The girl flipped her light brown braid and said, "Melissa. Melissa Peikmik. Um, I have to catch up with my team, but if you want to come, you can. I'm sure someone could find you some clothes..."
"I'm Alanna of Trebond, squire to Prince Jonathan of Conté, the heir of Tortall," she announced proudly. After all, if being Jon's squire wasn't an honor, what was? She refused to think about the many court ladies who believed that having "fun" with him was a great honor, as well.
Melissa looked confused. "Why 'of Trebond'? Why not just Alanna Trebond? And what on earth do you mean by squire, or Prince Jonathan? I don't think people in general have squires much anymore, much less princes! I mean, look at Prince Harry. He hardly spends his time as with a squire or whatever. Do you need some clothes to borrow? 'Cause I'm sure a girl can lend you some..."
This world was stranger than Alanna had thought... Thom would be so much better at this. "A squire is a step in becoming a knight, which is the step that I am on. Prince Jonathan is the prince of Tortall, which most certainly exists. I am possibly insane, as insanity runs in my family, but it is probably in ways that do not concern you. I would most certainly like some clothes. Thank you very much for your hospitality in my time of need," she recited as if from a textbook.
Maybe people don't talk like that in... Pembrook, Alanna realized belatedly as Melissa stared, confused. Shrugging it off, she followed Melissa over to a group of girls to experience what Pembrook, Texas was like.
A/N: Please review! This is my first fanfic, but I'll take CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. No negativity please!