Disclaimer: I own nothing! Except my zombie army of Llamas and Ducks, they're mine. And the plot.
Chapter Two: Packing, Plotting, and Pitying
Alanna walked into her room, she had just come from telling Duke Gareth about her plans for the following week. She sat down on the edge of her bed, and stared at her surroundings: her desk, her night table, her dresser, the storage closet in which she kept her weapons, and the door that led to the room of Prince Jonathan of Conté, her knight master and one of the few people who knew of her true sex. The events of earlier that day were playing in her head, over and over again, never stopping. Her "father" was dead. She hated to use that word on that stranger locked in the study at Trebond. That man was not her father, fathers were caring, fathers paid attention to their children, fathers did not blame the deaths of there wives on their defenseless newborns, fathers did not treat their children as if they were a pimple with the "if I ignore it maybe it will go away" attitude, and fathers took the time to know their children.
She had often wondered over the last four years, what the look on his face would have been when—if—she had got her shield and the entire found out her true identity. Now she would never know, and neither would he. She stood up and began to pack her saddle bags; she would be leaving in the morning.
She was folding a black tunic when she stopped half way, frowning. The letter had said that the funeral was going to be at Trebond, her home; she would be seeing everyone she had left behind four years ago. They were all under the impression that "Lady Alanna" had gone to the convent, to learn how to be a proper young lady; they did not expect a "Lord Alan", a squire at the palace to show up. They thought her brother Thom was the squire, not her. She had to think of a way to fix this; she and Thom could not switch places as easily as they could four years ago. After a few minutes of racking her brain, a thought occurred to her. That evening, she would visit Mistress Eleni Cooper, the mother of her friend George Cooper, King of the Rouge; like Jon she was one of the elite few who knew of Alanna's secret. She would explain the situation, and ask Mistress Cooper if she could go into the market places of Corus and buy a long red wig (to cover her copper her locks, which were cropped just below her ears) as well as a couple of dresses, she would provide the money and early tomorrow morning she would pick the items up. She could not do it herself; some people would find it a bit odd to see a teenage boy purchasing dresses and a wig.
She continued to pack in dead silence, suddenly a loud knock at the door accompanied by a deep voice saying, "This is your overlord squire!", broke her out of her stupor. This was her and Jon's secret code to let her know that he had people with him; she opened the door to her friends. Jon had Gareth, "Gary" of Naxen and Raoul of Goldenlake at his side. They all looked depressed and somber. Do they honestly think that I am that heartbroken over this? she wondered. They all know how much I hated that man. Hate is an ugly word, she told herself, but how else do you describe someone who hated you and treated you like dirt?
"Hello, what brings guys here?" She asked, being her normal self.
Gary answered, "We just heard the news Alan, and we just wanted to tell you how sorry we were and if there is…"
"Enough." interrupted Alanna as she put her hand up, "I don't need you feeling sorry over me, especially under the given circumstances. You all know Father was not exactly my role model. So drop the mourning act now, and let us move on with our lives, shall we."
It was Jon's turn now. "I must say Alan, you are acting extremely rational, were it my father…"
"But there's the difference right there Jon," Alanna interrupted once more, her temper flaring, "Were it your father, but we are not talking about your father Jon, we are talking about mine! Your father loves you Jon, cares about you, and treats you the way you ought to be treated, crown prince or no. My father treated my brother and me like a disease, and wouldn't come near us if he could help it. My father was an awful reclusive man, and frankly doesn't deserve my time, need I say more?" She waited to hear a rebuttal, it never came.
"Now, how about we go to the Dancing Dove, and pay George a little visit." While she was out, she would make some excuse to slip away for a couple of minutes and see Mistress Cooper. Her friends followed her out of the room, when she suddenly turned on them, "Not a word of this to George, you hear me?" she was pointing an accusing finger at them, her unnerving violet eyes locking onto each of their faces. "Mithros knows I don't need him feeling sorry for me too." She walked down the hall, her friends staring at her in concern, a bit worried by their small friend's display of anger. Despite his usual temper, that show he had just put on was troubling to them.
Hope you all are enjoying the story so far, please leave a review. It is very much appreciated. Don't make me get my zombie army of Llamas and Ducks! They will stand over your shoulder singing the Llama Song until you go so crazy, you'll have to review. He He.
Okay I would like to take this time to thank all my reviewers, all three of ya.
Missus Kelain-Thanks! Appreciate that. Glad to know that the typos aren't that noticeable.
WeepingWillowleaf-Thank you for the compliment, I live to serve. –bows- just kidding. I am thankful for the review though.
Matilda Suzanne-Thank you for the review, and in terms of the drama: this chapter has a bit more drama in it. I would like you to think on this a little bit though; do you honestly think that Alanna would break down and cry in the middle of class? I personally think that that would not happen so, I saved the emotional break down for this chapter. Oh, and I noticed you took it upon yourself to start your own fic with the same idea. Nice to know that I inspired you. I noticed that your first chapter is so far not very similar to mine, try to keep it that way please?