Summary: Jon's POV of when Alanna returns to Corus in LR. Bits of A/J A/G

A/N: This could be a sequel to "Scars" and "Are you happy now?" though you needn't have read either to make sense of this. If you like this though, check them out!

Disclaimer: None of the speech or storyline is mine, unfortunately.

Alone

"I couldn't get away sooner."

The library was well lit but the still quiet of the majority of the house, and the darkness shadowing the lone window betrayed the late hour.

There was an almost undetectable touch of irritation in the King-to-be's voice as he continued, "We don't have parties because we're in mourning, but these 'quiet get-togethers' take hours, all he same."

"You should've waited," George's unmistakable lilt rang through the library. She fell asleep in her chair, poor thing." His concern was as clear as day and Jonathan felt a slight pang. "She's weary. They all are."

"And there's little rest for My Lady Knight here."

Jon sighed. So much had changed since their angry parting in the desert. After all of her adventuring, Alanna had every right to be weary, though events would not permit her the rest that she so clearly deserved (and no doubt needed) – her kingdom needed her, and Jon knew well enough that she'd serve with every skill at her disposal.

"Does he know she's back?"

One complication after another. Him.

"He knows. I just don't – What?"

George rose suddenly and opened the door. All Jon could see was Georges back until he bowed to whoever was behind the door. As he lowered his back, a certain violet-eyed someone stood in the doorway. She'd let her hair grow and it now lay somewhere between her shoulders and elbows. Her voyage had thinned her and as George ushered her in, Jon noticed the crow's feet at the edges of her eyes he couldn't remember being on her face before… It struck him then, how much each of them had grown while they were apart; though Jon noticed that Alanna still stood a head shorter than he himself.

Jon still had Faithful cradled in his arms when George shut the door and made himself scarce.

Alanna took tentative steps towards the hearth and knelt, bowing her head as she did so.

"My Liege. I am yours to command."

My Liege. With those words, the heavy burden he now shouldered increased. The hazy 'someday' had come so quickly that the responsibilities he had not yet fully understood rested on his head, just like the crown soon would. The fluctuating feeling of destiny continued to remind him of his duty to the kingdom and his people.

Jonathan put a hand on her hair. Before continuing he managed to ask, "You're sure, Alanna?"

She met his gaze steadily.

"Until death and after Jonathan."

The words gave Jon courage though he could not help swallowing involuntarily as he completed the traditional words:

"I accept your fealty, Sir Alanna. I accept and I vow to return fealty with fealty, honour with honour, until death and beyond it."

He gently lifted her to her feet, kissing her on each cheek. The air about him (which to him, seemed to become slightly suffocating each time he took on a new responsibility that should still be his father's) became less formal.

Jonathan couldn't take it any longer. Months of silence and restraint could now be banished. His best friend was back in the capital by his side. He could remain silent no more.

"You don't know what it means to have you home." And he meant every single word.

Jon's eyes filled abruptly, with both tears and withheld pain. His voice broke as he continued, "He killed himself, Alanna."

Admitting this out aloud seemed to confirm it.

King Roald would not come back.

"He made it look like a hunting accident but it wasn't. Oh gods! Why did I have to loose both of them?"

Neither would Queen Lianne.

He covered his face with his hands and cried. He hadn't really been able to cry before – the shock had been too great. Alanna held him close, shushing him as she wept as well.

Jonathan had never really left his parents for too long. The longest he had, was probably on his visit to the Great Southern Desert. Jon was the crown prince of the realm and an only child at that. He had been spoiled by his parents and pampered by the Tortallan Court. He'd been shielded from all wrong (until a certain thief took him under his wing in his page years and taught him about the world and its flaws).

When Queen Lianne had found out that she would not be able to bear anymore children, she immediately resolved to concentrate on her son's joy and in completing his every wish. Roald was also close to his son – he and Jonathan had spent many afternoons just talking about every topic imaginable.

And now both King Roald and Queen Lianne were gone.

Jon's throat closed up and his eyes burned.

Eventually the tears ceased – there were none left.

Alanna dried away the last of her own tears and looked into Jon's face. More lines creased her skin telling of the years of keeping up with her peers and of her more recent travels.

"We may not have another chance to be alone for a while. What do you want me to do with the Jewel?"

Jon drew a deep breath. So, what he'd heard was true. "You really have it?"

"I'll get, it if you like." She tried to pull away so that she could go and fetch it, but Jonathan tightened his arms. He couldn't bring himself to let go just yet. "Not yet, all right?" He'd felt strangely solid entwined with Alanna – in her arms he could be just Jonathan; no prince, or even as it would soon be, king. "It's been almost a year since I held you, remember?"

He sighed and released her. He needed to get used to being 'King' Jonathan. Tortall needed him to. "Keep it safe, for now. I need to think of a way to present you – and it – suitably." His face broke into a brief, sincere smile. "You have no idea how much it means to be able to tell people we have the Dominion Jewel. Perhaps it will even stop the rumours of a curse."

A short time later George returned.

"All's well then?" he asked, somewhat anxiously.

Jon and Alanna smiled at each other.

"At last," he sighed. "I never felt right when you two were on outs with each other." He admitted. "We were havin' tea," he told Alanna. "Will you join us?"

Alanna nodded.

George collected a third cup and filled it from the kettle on the hearth, refreshing his own and Jon's cups while he was there. "It's Copper Isle Red Griffin," he informed Alanna as she squinted at the red liquid with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity that made Jon smile.

"The taste grows on you."

Maybe he wasn't so alone after all.

Jon raised his cup in the gesture of a toast.

"To old friends, the best friends."

A/N: I may write the next part (when Thayet joins them) as a sequel but I'm not sure yet. Let me know what you think!