Scars
By Magelet
Alanna lay awake one night, warm and at home with George's strong arm around her,
and thinking. He was already asleep and she sighed. 'I wonder how he can love me so much.
It mush not be looks. I'm not nearly as beautiful as Thayet, but then again, no one is.
There are so many pretty ladies at Court. Sometimes I wish I weren't a lady knight. Maybe
these scars are why I'm not so pretty.' Her scars had always, since she cared, made her
feel ugly and odd, especially in a dress. She glanced at her left wrist, remembering.
There were three long, thin, parallel scars ran along her left wrist. One brought
up the memory of joining her Bahzir tribe, the Bloody Hawk, making her Bahzir, while she
was in the Great Southern Desert. The second brought to mind her adoption, becoming Miles'
daughter using the Bahzir custom. The last narrow knife scar she had cut herself, while
making up the spell that had combined Lightning and the evil crystal sword into one, making
an unbreakable blade containing amazing magic.
Another scar, running from neck to navel reminded her of her quest for the Dominion
Jewel and her fight with 'Chitral' the Elemental who guarded the treasure. She had almost
died at the Roof of the World, from the cold and loss of blood. With this memory came that
of the scars on her hands, which had been added to in that battle.
The other scars on her hands weren't that new. She had gotten them in the Chamber
of Ordeal, while vying for her shield. The memory of it's vast coldness, making her live
up to her fears made her move closer to George and his reaction was to tighten his grip,
though he truly was asleep.
Glancing at her left arm, she saw a sword scar creeping up and under her short
sleeve. A troop of thieves (not George's) had attacked her in Maren, trying to kill her in
attempt to hurt Tortall and George drastically.
She would have kept on reviewing, but George woke up as she stirred. She was
looking uncomfortably at the scar that if the deliverer had succeeded, she, most likely her
love, and all that she loved would not be alive.
"Go to sleep Alanna. It's really late, and I'm sure you'll be busy tomorrow. You
always are. Unless, you actually decide to stay home for once. If you don't need the
sleep, though, I do. You aren't trying to go from Rouge to Baron." He whispered sensibly.
He pulled her tight and she moved her head to his chest, and closed her eyes.
'He's right. He usually is. I really should not regret the past. Besides, if I
wasn't who I am, I wouldn't even know George existed, and I'd never be happy!' With on last
private smile, she fell asleep.
By Magelet
Alanna lay awake one night, warm and at home with George's strong arm around her,
and thinking. He was already asleep and she sighed. 'I wonder how he can love me so much.
It mush not be looks. I'm not nearly as beautiful as Thayet, but then again, no one is.
There are so many pretty ladies at Court. Sometimes I wish I weren't a lady knight. Maybe
these scars are why I'm not so pretty.' Her scars had always, since she cared, made her
feel ugly and odd, especially in a dress. She glanced at her left wrist, remembering.
There were three long, thin, parallel scars ran along her left wrist. One brought
up the memory of joining her Bahzir tribe, the Bloody Hawk, making her Bahzir, while she
was in the Great Southern Desert. The second brought to mind her adoption, becoming Miles'
daughter using the Bahzir custom. The last narrow knife scar she had cut herself, while
making up the spell that had combined Lightning and the evil crystal sword into one, making
an unbreakable blade containing amazing magic.
Another scar, running from neck to navel reminded her of her quest for the Dominion
Jewel and her fight with 'Chitral' the Elemental who guarded the treasure. She had almost
died at the Roof of the World, from the cold and loss of blood. With this memory came that
of the scars on her hands, which had been added to in that battle.
The other scars on her hands weren't that new. She had gotten them in the Chamber
of Ordeal, while vying for her shield. The memory of it's vast coldness, making her live
up to her fears made her move closer to George and his reaction was to tighten his grip,
though he truly was asleep.
Glancing at her left arm, she saw a sword scar creeping up and under her short
sleeve. A troop of thieves (not George's) had attacked her in Maren, trying to kill her in
attempt to hurt Tortall and George drastically.
She would have kept on reviewing, but George woke up as she stirred. She was
looking uncomfortably at the scar that if the deliverer had succeeded, she, most likely her
love, and all that she loved would not be alive.
"Go to sleep Alanna. It's really late, and I'm sure you'll be busy tomorrow. You
always are. Unless, you actually decide to stay home for once. If you don't need the
sleep, though, I do. You aren't trying to go from Rouge to Baron." He whispered sensibly.
He pulled her tight and she moved her head to his chest, and closed her eyes.
'He's right. He usually is. I really should not regret the past. Besides, if I
wasn't who I am, I wouldn't even know George existed, and I'd never be happy!' With on last
private smile, she fell asleep.