I've been dreadful with writing the past few weeks - forgive me. I've been busy and I've had bronchitis (still do, actually) and I've had no inspiration. I don't know what else to write for this story - I mean, I have a basic idea (which means, I know what I want and how it's going to end) but I don't know how to piece it together. So, due to my un-inspired-ness, this chapter is kinda blah. Forgive the stupid dialogue - it was 23:30 when I wrote it out. Maybe I'll trash it and rewrite it...anyways, look out for some of my *other* fanfics - and please review! I need to know what you guys think - like, no like. See, I get kinda put off when no one reviews, and I think: well, since no one's reading this, why update? K, enough of my whining. Just go and read...
Chapter VI
Alanna sighed with relief as she splashed her face with cold water. She had never before appreciated the state of cleanliness so - before her kidnapping, a bath was something every proper person took...it was just a bath, for Goddess' sake.
Oh, I would kill for a tub of hot water, Alanna thought dryly, turning away from the stream and settling down on a tree stump. On second thought, she pulled off her shoes and dangled her feet in the icy water.
She stayed like that, blissful and thanking the gods for this comfort, for about an hour, before the thief known as Gwen came looking for her.
Alanna's head snapped towards Gwen.
If you're a-hungry, there's some deer on the fire. Gwen noted how Alanna's face visibly tightened; lunch with the others meant an hour or so of Jago's brutal interrogation, Ian's dry humor, and Gwen's own sarcasm. George was a different story; so far, he had been a perfect gentleman.
Don't start liking him, Alanna, she told herself sternly, getting up and following Gwen back to the group of caves. I'm betrothed!
But lately, she had begun to wonder if her betrothal had been a huge jest, concocted by Thom. So far, there had been no signs of a rescue.
On the other hand, do I really want to be rescued? Alanna shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. No, I don't.
To Alanna's relief, only George was at the fire. Apparently, Ian and Jago had gone to get some supplies, disguised as farmers, leaving only Gwen and the Rogue himself to watch over the captive. Alanna remembered to think prayers up to the Goddess as she sat down on a log and accepted the hunk of nicely cooked meat from Gwen.
Unfortunately, the meal didn't go as smoothly as Alanna thought it would. The bombshell was dropped on her just as she finished her meat.
Why aren't you healing George properly?
Face blank with shock, Alanna met Gwen's accusing eyes and withered inside.
was all she could manage.
George was frowning, shaking his head furiously at Gwen, but her attention was focused on the battered, tired, dirty, and startled Alanna.
You know what I'm a-talking about, girl! she growled, gripping the hilt of her dagger so tightly that her knuckles turned white. You've been here for a week - and His Majesty's wound isn't improving! Either you're no healer, or your just a-screwing around!
But I- Alanna began, staring back at the angry woman with frightened eyes.
You what? sneered Gwen. You are screwing around, aren't you? I knew it! There was no use in hoping that you would stick to your end of the bargain - and it is your bargain, you are the one who suggested it! All you nobles are alike, sniveling, lying little sluts, who -
spat Alanna, jumping to her feet, all fright forgotten on the new slur on her morality. I've heard quite enough from you, you cut-throat! If you don't shut up, I'll blast you into oblivion!
You wouldn't dare! snickered Gwen, peering up at the crimson lady, who was trembling with unearthly energy. You're a healer - though a pretty rotten one - and you can't do anything to mar your honor!
I will! threatened Alanna. I may have a clean slate, but I will beat the sense out of you if you don't shut up!
Sniveling slut - was all that Gwen managed to say; the rest was a shocked gasp. Alanna had belted Gwen smack in the eye; it was a perfect movement, her entire weight behind her fist, resulting in so much force that Gwen fell to the ground on her back.
Don't you ever call me that, Alanna whispered, standing over the dazed thief.
Then, to the surprise of Alanna and the silent, watchful George, Gwen laughed. Loudly.
That was great! Gwen gasped, struggling to her feet and rubbing her eye, which was starting to swell and turn black. A simply beautiful right cross! Where did you learn to do that?
I used it on my brother, was the stiff reply.
Well, whatever, it was simply exquisite! Gwen approached Alanna, her hand extended. I'm sorry, m'lady. It's just that...George... she threw a helpless look at her king.
Doubtfully, Alanna took the offered hand and shook it. Gwen, me too, I'm sorry. And...I'll...heal your eye.
At that, Gwen turned serious. Why isn't George improving?
Alanna felt her cheeks warm as she continued in an ashamed whisper, I don't know how to heal such wounds.
But you're a healer! That was George's cry of shock.
Alanna lowered herself on a log and looked the Rogue straight in the eye. Majesty, what do you think they taught us healers at the convent?
The hazel eyes remained unreadable.
Alanna answered herself. Nothing useful, that is. All I can do, at the moment, is cure a small fever, fix papercuts, and soothe a sore throat, ear, tummy, or head. That's it. The Daughters at the Mother of Mountains Convent do not teach us how to heal wounds caused by a knife fight.
So you can't do it?
Alanna's eyes narrowed. I didn't say that.
It sounds like it.
Majesty, I thought you told me that you were feeling drained and sick while I worked on you?
I did.
That's me. Trying to heal your wound.
Gwen smiled slightly. At least you're trying -
That's nothing, Alanna interrupted. I'm doing it. I'm starting small. I'm doing everything I know before trying new stuff. I've decreased the fever, a little at a time. Now, there's none. But I can't go on without herbs. A healer can't do everything with magic. I need the proper equipment.
What do you need? George was immediately alert. Tell me and I'll make sure Ian gets it next time he goes to town.
For a moment, Alanna lost herself in thought. Several needles. Thread. Basic healing herbs. Clean clothes. Tea. That's basically it.
You want me to get what? yelped Ian, staring at George with disbelief.
Patiently, George repeated, I need you to gets some needles, thread, clothes, tea, and healing herbs. Just ask a village healer for the tea and herbs - she'll know what to get. Pay for the stuff, aye? I don't want no healer after us. The rest you can get however way you want. George handed Ian a small purse; it jingled lightly.
Ian gazed at the Rogue as he tucked the purse into his belt. Majesty, what's going on? There's something you ain't a-telling me.
Alanna's doing her best, was the blunt reply. But she ain't no miracle worker, so there you are. She needs those herbs to heal me. So will you deny her?
Ian swallowed. No, Majesty. He glanced at Jago.
Grunt.
Let's go. Ian ducked his head at George and started down the path from the caves, Jago trailing after him.
That's it for now. No more inspirations have I (oh, great, I'm turning into Yoda - huza). Well...review and tell me what you think...
