Any characters you recognize are not mine. Any you don't are mine.
This one will take longer than my others, if you've read them...it's not completely finished yet.
The red and purple setting sky over the waters at Pirate's Swoop was brilliant. One of those skies where the colors were bright bands that laced between each other, the clear waters a perfect reflection so it seemed there was no horizon. Unbeknownst to those nestled within the walls of the Swoop, the deep, throbbing hum of the whales resonated against the rocks, birds returned to their nests to watch over their eggs, and a snake, woken by the dropping warmth of the rock he had laid on all afternoon, slithered back into the sand dunes.
High above the ocean, a red-haired woman sat at a weathered oaken desk, the sunset spectacle muted through the white cotton drapes against the window. Her hair had at one point during the day been tied back into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, but now several tendrils curled against her face and fell into her eyes. Annoyed she brushed them back, trying to keep staring at a brown leather ledger with small, meticulous numbers and notes written in annoyingly neat columns. Squinting, her eyelids heavy, she copied the notes into a new parchment. At the top of the paper her handwriting had been as neat and elegant as any court scribe's, but after an entire day of writing her hand was cramping and her script was increasingly spotted with stray ink. Two other ledgers sat open beside the one she was copying, in fact, the entire desk was a clutter of paper after paper.
"I don't know how Gary enjoys this," she muttered. "I swear, if I see one more number after tonight I am going to gouge an eye out."
"Not mine, I hope," a lilting voice came from the doorway. Startled she turned too quickly, spilling ink across the paper she had just written.
"Damn it George!" Her voice filled with frustrated tears as she tried to blot the parchment. George looked at her, his eyes filled with worry as he quickly crossed the room to help clean up.
"I'm sorry lass. I didn't mean t' startle ye." He picked up the paper and frowned. "Gods Alanna, what is this? You've been at this all evenin'?" Alanna sighed and leaned her head against his stomach.
"All day," she murmured into his tunic, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Trebond's financial records. Coram just sent them to me. I still have ours to do, and then Myles sent me a copy for Olau that I need to go over and then I'm all behind on papers to sign." She sighed, and looked up. George's face was still creased in a frown. "What is it?"
"I didn't know Trebond had an apple orchard. 'Tissant it too far north?"
"Of course it doesn't, silly. Olau has the apples, I don't know if Trebond…oh, no," Alanna grabbed the parchment from her husband. There it was, the apple profit for the season four lines above the ink spill. She let out a string of curse words that made even George look at her proudly. "I must have mixed up the ledgers." She dropped the ruined parchment back on the table and bit back a scream, resting her elbows on the desk and leaning her face into the palms of her hands. George's hands rubbing her shoulders made her smile.
"Lass, I know ye think ye can do anythin' ye want, an' I have no doubt that ye're perfectly capable of doin' most anythin', but how in the Black God's name do you expect te run three fiefs, be Jon's Champion an' go out doin' mighty deeds, and still find time for me ev'ry month or two?"
Alanna sighed. She knew he was right, deep down, but she was stuck in a hard position.
"What would you have me do, George. I'm Myles' daughter, I have to keep up with the situation back at Olau. There's been so much cleaning up to do here at the Swoop if I don't get the records straight now they never will be, and there's no one left but me to take care of Trebond. It was supposed to be Thom's, once he tired of court, but…well, that didn't happen. I can't just abandon it. And I can hardly trust you to keep any sort of track of money, you were a thief once, you know."
George smiled and kissed her head.
"Maybe you should talk t' Jon about us hirin' one of his palace people to do this for you, hmm?"
"No. I don't know. Maybe I'll talk to him." Alanna sat up and tilted her head back, wrapping her arms around George's neck.
"Not tonight, right?" George asked, not bothering to hide the look of shameless pleading in his eyes. Alanna grinned.
"No, not tonight."
"Good." Suddenly Alanna found herself swept up in George's arms. She laughed, and leaned against his shoulder. "Because I have plans for you tonight, my lovely lass." George's hazel eyes twinkled into hers as he planted a kiss on her lips. "And," he added, "I wouldn't plan on getting' up to early either." Grinning wickedly, he blew out the candle lighting the room and swept Alanna down the stairs to their room.