I am not responsible for any inconvenience this fic may cause you.

WARNING: character death. Continue if you dare but do not I repeat

DO NOT give me flames for your own curiosity. I already have it bad.

Alanna the Lioness, Lady of Pirate's Swoop, rode onwards to the vast grounds of the royal palace. She couldn't bear it any longer and she had to accept it. King Jonathan had died. AN: so sorry!!! I had to do it!!! Please!! No flames!!! Soreee!!!

She loved him so much, even after they went different ways. Unsure if it was romance or friendly concern either way, it scared her. Her tears were dry. She made sure none fell. Alanna came to a halt to gather her emotions and thoughts. It rang in her head. Had he loved me back? The same way I loved him? The Lioness shook the thought away. He hadn't loved her, he loved Thayet and there was even a crown to prove it. After all I'm married to George whom I loved.

But not as much as I loved him.

"My Lady," a voice behind her spoke. Sir Gareth of Naxen the younger, her longtime friend found her. "He died for his country, that's how he would've wanted it."

"I see you haven't changed," Alanna informed him blankly. "Attempting to cheer me up." She paused. "It's no use, whatever you do. I still loved him yet he hadn't loved me. Never did he write me poems or bear gifts for me, as he would with a noble lady—"

"Stop it Alanna," he said softly yet the impact of his voice was massive. "He was always talking about you, did you know that? How amazing you were and that he couldn't possibly give you anything. That would be too, you know—inappropriate." Satisfied that his audience was listening intently he continued.

"So instead, it occurred to him that, he'll just give you himself and government over Tortall, I mean, you know—" his voice drifted off. A sudden pang of guilt and sorrow flooded through Alanna. Out of her own selfishness she lost him. She could've spent her life with him, she could've been happy.

They could've been happy.

That changed just because she didn't want the responsibility that came along with happiness. Her vision suddenly went blurred and hazed, her face went hot.

Tears, the ones that were held back for so long.

Gary offered her a piece of cloth. She gladly took the fabric and obscured her face with it hiding her shame. He watched her painfully.

"By the way. I think he would've wanted you to have this. Raoul and I saw it a long time ago when you were still his squire, we thought there was something weird about it, like we saw that girl before. Jon insisted that we were hallucinating, but I guess he said that so suspicion wouldn't arise. He never had a chance to give it to you. Kept fiddling with it, said it wasn't good enough. Never as pretty as the real thing was." He handed her a single piece of paper.

It was neatly folded. With trembling hands she opened it. She saw an image sketched delicately, drawn with such care and passion. It had been obvious that so much work had been put to it. It was an image of her.

So much more magnificent than the drawing of Delia or Thayet Jon had made.

NO FLAMES

See I told ya! POINTLESS! Never read any of my fics again!