Author's Note: I've changed the time period for this fic after many people questioned it. This is supposed to take place when Alanna is fourteen or fifteen, and Jon's squire. In this fic, the Black City never happened, so Jon does not know that "Alan" is "Alanna."
Developing Problems
By: youdontneedtoknow
Chapter 4: Talking Nonsensically
Alanna trudged through the streets of Corus, too put out by her conversation with George to actually pay attention to where she was going. When she found herself in an unfamiliar alley, she began cursing so fervently it would make a guardsman cover his ears. She poked her head back out into the streets and focused on the lights at the top of the hill that she knew belonged to the palace.
Swearing again as she calculated the distance back, she crouched on the ground, attempting to conjure up a dim fire with her Gift to better view her surroundings. But instead of a fire, a cloud of green smoke rose up out of her hands where the fire would normally appear. It clouded her vision, making her eyes smart. She rubbed them while cursing her inability to produce even a simple light-bringing spell.
As the smoke cleared, Alanna saw a figure enter the dark alleyway. She stood up and drew a large dagger from her belt, thrusting it out in front of her in a defensive stance. The figure laughed, making the hairs on Alanna's neck stand on end.
"My daughter, how is it you think to guard yourself with nothing but a mere dagger?" Alanna faltered at the sound, her ears ringing from the odd voice. She took a step back, still keeping the dagger out in front of her.
How does this person know I'm a girl? Alanna glanced down at her chest, praying to the Goddess that nothing was hanging out. Everything appeared intact.
"Do not worry, my daughter. Your secret is still safe." It laughed again, the sound reminding Alanna of glass breaking upon a metallic floor. The figure added with a blinding smile, "Nothing is 'hanging out.'"
Alanna gasped, staring at the figure as she took a step backwards. She summoned her Gift, holding the light of it out in front of her with her free hand. "Goddess?" she whispered.
The Great Mother Goddess gave her another brilliant smile, and whispered softly, "So the child does recognize its mother. Most mortals need more hints than that."
Alanna sat down upon the ground, her eyes growing wide. The Goddess sat across from her, emerald-colored clothing fanning out at her sides. Alanna twitched, suddenly afraid of the news that warranted a visit from the Goddess herself.
"What d'you want from me?" she asked, trembling slightly.
"Just to talk, my child." The Goddess smiled, revealing even, pearly white teeth. "It is not often that I am privileged to speak with one of my children."
Alanna relaxed a bit and tucked her dagger back into its sheath. "Okay, we can talk," she said, dubiously.
"Now, I see you are considering leaving the palace, correct?" The Goddess grew more serious, staring at Alanna with her piercing green eyes. Alanna nodded mutely. "You are correct in your assumptions that you are developing more. The time where I place my mark of femininity on you has already begun."
Alanna swallowed, "That means I'm starting to grow up, then, right?"
The Goddess nodded, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. "The calculations you have made of your friends are also correct. They have begun to notice the change as well. Your secret will be out in three month's time if you decide to stay."
Alanna sighed. "So I have to leave, then?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
"Not exactly. I cannot see your exact fate, only dim outlines. Men of power will be very angry when they find out, though it will not be a friend who betrays you. Your future appears very bleak if you decide to stay."
Alanna gulped, "And if I go?"
The Goddess stood up, looking down into Alanna's face. "That I do not know. I can see the reactions of others if you stay, but what you yourself do is a mystery. You are unique, and I have no way of seeing what you can get yourself into. Only time—and you— will tell."
The light of Alanna's gift began to swirl out from her hand, wrapping itself around the Great Mother Goddess. "You know who is loyal to you. Trust in your friends. They respect you more than you think."
Alanna yelled, "Can't you give me a more solid piece of advice?"
But the yell fell on deaf ears, as the Goddess had already gone.
Alanna moaned when she heard the knocking at her door. "Leave me alone! I'm tired!" she yelled, trying to stifle the noise by covering her ears with her pillow.
"Alan?" Jon's voice could be heard coming from the corridor outside, slightly muffled through the hard wood of the door.
Alanna groaned. "Your Highness, I'm not decent. Give me a few moments to get myself cleaned up, please." She rolled out of bed, wincing as her feet hit the cold stone floor.
Jon called, "Hurry up, then. I'll be back for you in a few minutes."
Alanna failed to respond, but instead scrambled over to the chamber pot. She relieved herself, then pulled her loincloth back up. She glanced down, and, resisting the urge to scream, realized it was "that time" of the month again. She found a new loincloth and added strips of cloth, and then threw the blood soaked ones into her laundry hamper.
She stumbled over to her trunk and pulled out a new tunic, throwing her dirty one that she had left on from the night before onto the floor. She pulled the clean tunic over her bandaged chest, not wanting to bother with readjusting the bandages. She then changed her leggings, in light of the fact her monthlies had bled through those as well. She threw them into the hamper just as she heard Jon's knock at the door.
Smoothing out her clothes, she hurried to answer the door. Jon stood there impatiently, with a half smile on his face and his arms folded. "Alan, I think I left my, uh, handkerchief when I was in here the other day. Mind if I check?"
Alanna gave him a wry smile. "Your handkerchief? Since when do you carry a handkerchief?"
Jon's face flushed, and he averted his gaze. "Um, since a particular lady gave one to me?"
Alanna rolled her eyes and gestured for him to come in. "Fine. Come right in."
Jon followed her back into her room and headed for her desk. He paused, then bent down, her dirty tunic in his hands. He grinned at her, and said, "Dear me, Alan needs to learn how to clean his room properly, doesn't he?" Jon headed over to the laundry hamper with the dirty shirt as Alanna searched her room for "Jon's" handkerchief. She was rifling through the papers on her desk when she heard Jon speak to her.
"Care to explain this?" Jon called. Alanna came over, and looked where he was staring: into her laundry hamper, where her bloody clothing lay.