A/N: First attempt at a Roger/Alanna story. Which is why it sucks.
Worthless. Weak. Coward. Frail, scrawny little girl. You're never going to earn your shield.
Alanna tasted blood in her mouth. She had bit her lip. She spat on the dull, dusty ground of the stable. She curled up again with her face in her knees.
You thought you could be a knight. You're obviously wrong. You couldn't even push him away.
Alanna didn't protest to the thoughts like she usually would. She had nothing to say, no reason to believe that she was worthy now. It was all over. She let the thoughts wash over her, berating her for her folly.
No wonder women can't be knights.
You should have just gone to the convent with all the other soft lady nobles.
Another wave of bile rose in her throat. She had already thrown up once.
Stupid girl. You and your ideas of lady
knights. Face it: it's never going to happen. You're too weak, too foolish. You
could never be equal to a man.
Roger had called her to his quarters earlier that day. There had been some unpleasant small talk, and then…
"Why did you call me here?"
"Alan, Alan, Alan…"
Pause. He smirks, his eyes meeting
hers.
"No, that's not right, is it?"
What? "I don't—"
"Alanna."
She recoils. He grabs her arm.
Tight.
"Don't touch me!" She thrashes. Cold
fear courses through her as she tries to wrench her arm away.
He is strong, frighteningly so. He
holds tighter, pulling her towards him. His eyes never leave hers. She tries to
trash, but now she is frozen. She stares straight into icy blue eyes.
He pulls her closer.
His lips brush hers.
She is shoved roughly out the door,
which slams in her face. She runs.
Alanna hugs herself tighter, a new wave of tears coming.
Didn't even fight back…
She hugged her legs tighter, burying her face in her knees. It was all over.