Part one-Alanna
Chapter 1-The Story Twists
Author's note- first the disclaimer; I did not create any characters in this story, TP did. This is a kind of place where everything is kind of skewed. I called it "Tortall's Twin" 'cause twins are a lot alike, and really different at the same time. The first bit is mostly to orient the reader, so don't dump it too soon. Do you think the first chapter is too short? Flame me if you want, but this is my first fanfic. Please R/R! Be honest, if it sucks, it sucks. The first part starts when Alanna is a squire.
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Alanna's training was harder than ever, and Jonathan wasn't helping. His attitude had really begun to irk her lately, and as his squire she couldn't avoid him. And the way he looked at those court ladies! Each time he bowed and kissed one or their hands it was a blow to her femininity. Finally she went to Mrs. Cooper's house to get her fittings for a dress. After a while she had quite a collection, which she kept in a locked trunk at the end of her bed. Often she walked around town with George in her dresses, wearing a black wig for disguise. But the way George looked at her when she wore dresses scared her. One afternoon, before she had her knife-fighting lessons with him George was scaring her more than ever. Alanna and George circled and made a few passes, but Alanna could tell he was going easy on her. Finally George unbalanced her and pinned her shoulders to the ground. But he didn't move.
"George?" asked Alanna. But George made no move to let her go. Alanna's heart started to pound. Slowly but surely he leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. Alanna was shaking. She didn't know whether to be scared or exited. He kissed he again, and then blushed.
"I shouldn' be doin' this," he said. "I just want you t'know that I love you, ignore me if you will."
"George," she said weakly, "I think I love you too." And she drew him down to kiss him, long and passionate.
After that Alanna didn't deny George anymore. Alanna loved George, she wanted to be with him. She often visited him, as much as she could.
***
"George," she asked him one day, "Have you seen Marek? He still owes me for that dice game he lost, even though I'm not giving him full charge."
Marek's loss to Alanna was known to everyone in the court of the Rogue, it was the most laughed-at story between the thieves and flower girls. If Alanna had charged Marek for the full amount, it would have wiped him out of his life's savings.
"Beginner's luck," he had said when Alanna had done the final toss.
***
"Y'know, I haven't seen him since-" his voice was cut off by a bucket on a string that crashed into the side of his head. Caught off-balance, he tripped over Old Solom's cat, Dixie, and crashed down the staircase behind it. He lay at the bottom, unmoving. Alanna could see Marek Swiftknife, George's friend and rival, standing to the side, looking horrified. This must have been another one of his schemes to get the throne of the Rogue. Alanna rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time and cursing her cumbersome skirts, wishing she were in breeches. Upon reaching the bottom she could see that George's neck lay at lay at the wrong angle, his body was sprawled on the floor. Alanna put his hands in her own, the warmth fleeing from his veins and his cheeks turning white told her what she did not want to know.
"No," she whispered. "No. No. No, no NO!!!" She kissed him again and again, half believing that if she did it enough he would come back to life. She flooded him with her Gift, but to no avail. She held him in her arms, crying and holding his empty corpse tight. She saw Marek.
"You! You killed him! You killed George!" She pounded him, clawing him with hands weakened by pain. Alanna cried, burying her face in Marek's shoulder, wishing to the gods that George were alive; but even her Gift couldn't bring him back, no matter how hard she tried.
_________________________________________________________________________
Is that good, or should I just retreat in tears, a hopeless writing case forever? R/R, or I won't write anymore (that one works every time)!
Chapter 1-The Story Twists
Author's note- first the disclaimer; I did not create any characters in this story, TP did. This is a kind of place where everything is kind of skewed. I called it "Tortall's Twin" 'cause twins are a lot alike, and really different at the same time. The first bit is mostly to orient the reader, so don't dump it too soon. Do you think the first chapter is too short? Flame me if you want, but this is my first fanfic. Please R/R! Be honest, if it sucks, it sucks. The first part starts when Alanna is a squire.
______________________________________________________________________
Alanna's training was harder than ever, and Jonathan wasn't helping. His attitude had really begun to irk her lately, and as his squire she couldn't avoid him. And the way he looked at those court ladies! Each time he bowed and kissed one or their hands it was a blow to her femininity. Finally she went to Mrs. Cooper's house to get her fittings for a dress. After a while she had quite a collection, which she kept in a locked trunk at the end of her bed. Often she walked around town with George in her dresses, wearing a black wig for disguise. But the way George looked at her when she wore dresses scared her. One afternoon, before she had her knife-fighting lessons with him George was scaring her more than ever. Alanna and George circled and made a few passes, but Alanna could tell he was going easy on her. Finally George unbalanced her and pinned her shoulders to the ground. But he didn't move.
"George?" asked Alanna. But George made no move to let her go. Alanna's heart started to pound. Slowly but surely he leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth. Alanna was shaking. She didn't know whether to be scared or exited. He kissed he again, and then blushed.
"I shouldn' be doin' this," he said. "I just want you t'know that I love you, ignore me if you will."
"George," she said weakly, "I think I love you too." And she drew him down to kiss him, long and passionate.
After that Alanna didn't deny George anymore. Alanna loved George, she wanted to be with him. She often visited him, as much as she could.
***
"George," she asked him one day, "Have you seen Marek? He still owes me for that dice game he lost, even though I'm not giving him full charge."
Marek's loss to Alanna was known to everyone in the court of the Rogue, it was the most laughed-at story between the thieves and flower girls. If Alanna had charged Marek for the full amount, it would have wiped him out of his life's savings.
"Beginner's luck," he had said when Alanna had done the final toss.
***
"Y'know, I haven't seen him since-" his voice was cut off by a bucket on a string that crashed into the side of his head. Caught off-balance, he tripped over Old Solom's cat, Dixie, and crashed down the staircase behind it. He lay at the bottom, unmoving. Alanna could see Marek Swiftknife, George's friend and rival, standing to the side, looking horrified. This must have been another one of his schemes to get the throne of the Rogue. Alanna rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time and cursing her cumbersome skirts, wishing she were in breeches. Upon reaching the bottom she could see that George's neck lay at lay at the wrong angle, his body was sprawled on the floor. Alanna put his hands in her own, the warmth fleeing from his veins and his cheeks turning white told her what she did not want to know.
"No," she whispered. "No. No. No, no NO!!!" She kissed him again and again, half believing that if she did it enough he would come back to life. She flooded him with her Gift, but to no avail. She held him in her arms, crying and holding his empty corpse tight. She saw Marek.
"You! You killed him! You killed George!" She pounded him, clawing him with hands weakened by pain. Alanna cried, burying her face in Marek's shoulder, wishing to the gods that George were alive; but even her Gift couldn't bring him back, no matter how hard she tried.
_________________________________________________________________________
Is that good, or should I just retreat in tears, a hopeless writing case forever? R/R, or I won't write anymore (that one works every time)!