Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The Sorcerer's Dolls

Sir Alanna of Trebond. It was Sir now. She was a knight! A knight of Tortall. She had accomplished what she set out to do. Except… she knew she needed to admit her sex soon. There was no use hiding it, they couldn't do anything to her now! But there was something she had to do first, something important.

'I know I'm right.'

She comforted herself 'It is not a crime to be right!'

'Oh?' Argued her mind, 'but it is a crime to break into another man's chambers.'

'Well...' she countered 'It's a good thing I am not another man then.'

Placing a thin piece of iron into the keyhole she wiggled it slightly; it turned white hot in her hand and she swore loudly letting the pick clatter to the floor. She cursed at her stupidity. Of course Roger would have spells! Alanna cast a nervous look down the hallway, wondering how long it would remain empty. Unlocking it magically would take to long, she would need to find the correct counter spell and that could take hours! she hated being restless but…

Alanna wiped sweaty palms on her tunic and gripped the lock; with a mental push she forced her magic in to the lock. There was a bright flash and she was temporary blinded. Rubbing the blind spots from her eyes, Alanna selected another pick and slipped it into the keyhole. The door opened with a click.

Breathing quietly she stepped inside, each footstep as careful as a deer's. The Duke's room was eerily quiet, the furniture was expensive and well used. Passing through them quickly she gaped, open mouthed as she avoided…strewn clothes and dirty dishes?

'The duke certainly has a hidden side,' she thought. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she actually might have laughed.

'Besides being completely evil, he's a slob!'

THUMP!

Alanna suppressed a cry as she tumbled to the carpeted floor. Muttering she rubbed her head and turned back to see what had tripped her.

A breast band.

Alanna choked nearly swallowing her tongue and scuttled away from the frilly undergarment. She stood stood? up and frantically brushed at her tunic.

'By the Goddess I do hope that's Delia of Eldenor's.'

Hurriedly she made it to the Duke's workroom; again with her magic she forced the door open. Stepping inside she blinked at the dim light. There were no torches, but lamps that burned steadily.

Was that running water?

She crept over to the far corner. A basin sat there, with a tiny figure in the stream of water. Alanna picked it up carefully. Fingering the black hairs she studied the dress on the doll…

Could it be…?

Was Duke Roger…?

Had he been…?

Alanna blinked in the blunt realization. Duke Roger played with dolls! She peered behind a veil placed next to the fountain; there was a cloth bag. Carefully she picked it up and reached a hand inside; her fingers met cloth and wax. Slowly she pulled it out carefully.

It was small and slim, made of fine wax and cloth. Features had been carved into the wax and Alanna fingered the slightly hooked nose. She brushed her fingers over the dark black hairs. It was handsome in a way. In fact it looked like…Jon! She felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Red faced she tugged down the dolls tiny breeches.

In the throne room, Jonathan if Conte laughed loudly with his friends. Sharing a sly look at Gary as he declared a toast to Sir Alan of Trebond. Jon looked around the crowded room. Where was Alanna? How could she be missing this? Wasn't this what she had dreamed of?

Suddenly his breeches dropped heavily.

Jon yelped and tried to pull them back up without drawing attention. But they remained firmly down.

"Jon, what in Mithros name are you doing?" Raoul asked, his eyes wide in shock.

By now eyes were being drawn to the prince with his pants around his ankles. Jon whimpered and fell on his behind, making a feeble attempt to cover himself.

"They won't come up!" He cried.

Satisfied that the doll was atomically correct Alanna nodded her head…but still…she grasped the wax in her finger and pinched.

Jon's howled and grabbed his groin. Whimpering on the ground he rolled back and forth. In the name of the god's he felt like someone had just severed his manhood!

'There!'

Alanna grinned.

'Now it looks more like Jon! 'She thought as she flicked the extra bit of wax away.

She yanked up the hose and placed it on a nearby table.

Next she pulled out another doll, but it seemed attached to a second. She looked at the dolls suspiciously. One had mud brown hair and a smoothed moustache. The other had dark, dark curls. Gary and Raoul?

Jon's hose was back up, but Jon still lay on the ground whimpering. A small crowd of people had gathered around the wounded youth.

"Come on Jon" coaxed Gary. "You're fine, you're-" He was cut off as Raoul crushed firmly in to his back. Both of them tumbled to the ground.

"Raoul" called the startled Naxen, "Get off! Notrightnow. I can't breathe!"

"I'm stuck!" Called Raoul, as he struggled unsuccessfully to remove himself from Gary's body.

Alanna held the dolls together in two hands while her head rested. What reason would the Duke have for making dolls such as these? She racked her brain for useful information. Was he sticking pins in them? She had heard of this been done by hedge witches, she lifted up the tunic of Raoul's image.

Raoul's tunic slipped above his head.

"Don't undress!" Cried Gary "Get off me! Saveituntilllater. Put your tunic down!"

"I can't!" Cried the panicked Raoul.

No pin holes. Alanna replaced the tunic. She pulled the two apart to get a better look at them.

Gary and Raoul flew apart.

Alanna studied Gary. Then Raoul. She couldn't think. Alanna tossed them on top of Jon's image.

Jon screamed as Gary and Raoul pounced on him.

The next image was even more familiar. Alanna's mouth went dry as she touched the red hair and golden tunic. Herself? Alanna's hands trembled, She could feel the magic within it. Her mind drifted back to a lesson months before.

"By using wax images, with a focus connected to that person, all sorts of magic's are possible. You can control their bodies, their minds, and even control their future."

Alanna looked in the bag. Her friends; Duke Gareth, Myles, the Lord Provost, the King. They were all in there. Alanna swallowed her mouth feeling very dry. She knew what she had to do.

Raoul, Gary, and Jon all stood red faced against the wall. The throne room still buzzed with talk of their strange behavior. The King and Duke Gareth were whispering harshly about practical jokes and too much wine.

"Your Majesties."

The three men looked to their friend, Alan of Trebond. He was carrying a cloth bag and had a hardened expression on his face.

"Sorcery has been at work here, Sire."

THE END

AN: Messed eh? I have no idea where this came from, please don't sue me because I broke your brain. Thanks to Kirsty who beta'ed.