Ralon of Malven. AKA: Claw
I always felt that claw should have been Alanna's fight as they were enemies since first sight. What would the outcome have been if this were so? What if George was unable to kill Claw? He beat Claw but Claw got away; this is set after 'Lioness Rampant'.
Alanna was laid on her back surveying the night sky, the sand warm beneath her back, her eyes following the constellation of stars that many called 'The Cat'. Faithful she thought with a sharp pang of grief, I hope you're all right out there. The coronation had been months ago but she was still feeling the aftermath of that night. Despite her love for George, she missed the burly Liam, his final words had eaten into her painfully; 'Kitten, Knowing you, you think it's your fault I got killed when I did. You're thinking if you hadn't dragged me along… Forget it.' She couldn't forget it; he knew her better than she had thought and the guilt was something she just couldn't let go of. Unwanted tears sprang to her eyes, as she thought of all of the lives of her loved ones that she had cost: Si-cham, Thom, Faithful, Liam; four great people gone because of her. If she hadn't asked Thom to watch over Jon, if she had just taken hold of her responsibilities and done her job… and Si-cham, he was only there because she had sent for him. If she hadn't asked him to come then he would still be alive today. These days's Alanna felt naked without Faithful's soft body curled around her neck.
Soft steps came from her left, disturbing the sand as George sat beside her. He touched a tender finger to a tear rolling down her cheek and sighed, "You've gotta stop beatin' yourself up over this, lass."
Alanna shifted her position so that her head laid in his lap and she could look up into his hazel eyes, "George, you know I can't just forget." She wiped away her tears disgustedly.
"I didn't say forget." He told her, fondly stroking her copper tresses, grown long again and slightly sun streaked. "You need to find a way of acceptin' it though; to get on with you're life. To get on with our life."
"D'you remember Faithful?"
"Alanna." He pulled her up to a sitting position and lightly shook her by the shoulders, "You've gotta listen to me." Her violet eyes wandered over the bare sand beside them, unable to meet his own eyes. "Alanna I've asked for Jon to give you some kind of job; a mission." Her eyes found his. "It should help you get you're mind away from all of this…" he struggled for the right word, "this mess." He finished. "They're all worried for you over there; Gary, Raoul, Jon, Thayet, hell even Buri was gonna ride here to snap you out of it herself. Alanna?"
"What's the mission?" she rasped, her small body slightly stiff and her feeling of guilt intensifying at this new information.
George hesitated before saying anything, "I told Jon that you probably wouldn't be interested in it; too many memories-"
"George."
He sighed, "It's Ralon of Malven."
She nodded in understanding.
"He got away Coronation night and he's at large in Scanra right now: they hate him just as much as we did and they've failed to catch him. Jon's persuaded them to let you into the country to get him, and you're to bring him back to Corus for execution." George watched her expectantly
"I'll do it." She said finally and simply.
"When?"
"It'll be good for me." She told herself. "Tomorrow morning I'll go." She told George getting to her feet and shaking sand grains from her burnoose. George climbed to his feet beside her, nodding faintly. "Come on, you can fill me in on all of the details. Then we can get started on 'our life'" She added with an impish grin.
"And what can I do but oblige?" He asked rhetorically, following her to their tent.