Alianne Chapter 8: A Growing Threat, a song of the lioness fanfic

Part Seven: A Growing Threat

As she stepped onto the land, Alianne couldn't help but feel slightly sad. Welcome home, Ali, she thought wryly.

"Not much of a homecoming, eh?" Antonio, her general, was leaning over her shoulder slightly. "I thought they would have welcomed you with open arms.

"Hardly," she retorted. "Especially not when I'm about to unseat their precious Jonathan. Good riddance to the Conté line…"

"Thinking positively, I see, my queen." With that, he walked away, leaving her alone. Alianne looked down the coast slightly, straining her eyes to see the outline of her home on the horizon. Though she could see the lights of the castle in the distance, it was too dark to make out the actual structure. She took a deep breath, the familiar salt air filling her lungs. Knowing she stood on her parents' lands, poised to stage the largest assault on Tortall in its long history filled her with a kind of adrenaline. Not a single drop of remorse flowed through her veins. The roads to all thrones were always stained with treachery and blood. This one would be no different.

"Men, let's ride out!" The Copper Islanders mounted their horses at this command. Alianne, guiding her favorite horse, a pure white stallion, directed the destrier up to the general.

"Majesty, on your command."

She nodded, savoring his words. "Let's go…we have work to do." Turning their horses south, the small army set out for their destination: the city of Persopolis.

The bells of the palace tolled loud and clear to signal the arrival of dawn. Blinking bleary eyes, Thom of Pirate's Swoop lifted his head and groaned slightly. He'd fallen asleep over a very large and boring spell book. The enormous thing was enough to put anyone to sleep. He pushed dark red hair away from his face before rising and stretching slightly. At nineteen, the precocious young black robed mage had caused a storm of controversy at court, many claiming he was turning out just like his famous uncle.

"I'm not going to raise anyone from the dead," he had snapped back at his mother when she teased him about it. "I have enough problems with the living, thank you very much."

He was threatening to fall asleep again. "Maybe this time in a bed," he scolded himself. "That would be quite nice, wouldn't it?"

A sharp knock brought woke him right up. Stumbling out into the parlor, he opened the door. Seeing who it was, he had to mentally tell himself to resist the temptation to hit his early-morning visitor. "What do you want?"

Nealan of Queenscove looked grim. "The Copper Islanders have come ashore. Myles's spies said they're riding southeast, across the desert."

"Really…that's wonderful, Neal. Why does this concern me?"

He shifted on his feet. "The king's sending a whole bunch of people to Persopolis, in case they try something. A bunch of knights, foot soldiers, Roald, Numair, you."

Thom rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Hermes. Now, would you kindly tell Zeus that I am unavailable at the moment given as Demeter has this severe problem involving Hades and her daughter Persephone? First come, first serve, you know."

"That's not funny. Besides, I just happened to be there when the king announced this. He told me to come and wake you up. Everyone else is already dressed. Hurry up, or you'll be late."

"Again, I thank you. Would you kindly tell Zeus that he can kiss his own ass?" Thom started to shut the door, but Neal was too quick. He pushed his way in the room.

"Would you give it a rest with the messenger thing? Gods, you're like a dog with a bone when it comes to that."

"Wonderful use of simile there, Neal. You're a regular Homer." He grinned. "Sorry, it's just too much fun baiting you."

"Yeah, your mother used to say that."

He raised an eyebrow. "What, that you were fun to bait or that you and Homer have a lot in common?"

"Both."

Thom shook his head slightly. "Fine, fine. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll be there. I promise," he added quickly, seeing the skeptical look on Neal's face. "I swear. Twenty minutes, that's it."

Though he still did not look convinced, he left reluctantly. Thom ran into his wardrobe, almost tearing off the long black robe he wore, pulling a different pair of shoes over his black hose, at the same time trying to yank a black tunic over his head. Looking into the mirror, he grinned at himself. "Not bad."

After washing his face and cleaning his teeth, he took one last look at his reflection. He looked perfectly normal.

When he slammed out of his rooms into the hallway, Neal raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed...that was hardly ten minutes." His green eyes twinkled. "Who died?"

"I'm in mourning for our generation," he shot back. "Looking around this court and facing the future rulers of this nation depresses me. Especially when I realize that one of the most powerful duchies will be controlled by you." They began to walk towards Jonathan's main council chamber.

Neal laughed. "It's frightening, isn't it? Though not as altogether scary as the thought of Roald as king."

"If he's ever king."

His mother's former squire stopped dead, staring at him with wide eyes. "You believe the rumors, then?"

"Oh, come on, Neal." Thom threw his hands in the air. "Cebrian and Casimiro have put a great deal of their efforts into building an army to rival those of the Eastern Lands...combined. They've signed a treaty with Kaddar, despite the Carthaki emperor's marriage to Kalasin last year. There are many who say it won't be long now before more nations march under that sorceress's banner." He made the Sign. "Her name is enough to cause any sane man to tremble. Eliana will stop at nothing to conquer Tortall. And after she's through with us, she'll continue on to the rest. D'you understand what this means? Neal, I hate to say this...but this is a war we have no chance of winning. It's hopeless."

The knight looked dismayed. Thom resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their nation's stupidity. Neal, along with most other warriors, saw things from a soldier's point of view. Never did they think that they might solve a problem in a way different from warfare. Even Alanna thought that way...it drove her family crazy.

This is insanity, he told himself as they continued through the palace. Getting involved in a war we will most certainly lose. Couldn't they just try and outsmart the Copper Islanders? Oh, no, we have to beat it out of them on a battlefield...thank the gods there are at least a few people here with sense. If Jonathan can't see what he's doing is absolute folly, then he deserves to be overthrown.

Given a chance, most of the headmen called together for a joint council would have died with their king and Voice. Living with him, however, was quite a different thing. The conservative members of the royal court were eventually gaining more and more influence over the king. The Bazhir people found themselves with a considerably less amount of rights than they had had during the early years of Jonathan's reign. Though the Bazhir were technically not allowed to war against the Voice of the Tribes, specially circumstances could be taken into consideration. This time of need was one of those exceptions.

Having decided to use this conflict to her advantage, Alianne stood before them, her face set. Though they were wary of this ambitious young woman, they seemed to respect her. At least they made no snide comments about her lack of a veil.

"Why do you stand for it?" she demanded, looking each one in the eye. "He promises you peace and equality, then goes back on his word. Now, you are forbidden places in the House of Commons. You have no representation in his government, no voice to make your opinions known. Have you not suffered enough at the northerner's hands? Have they not shed enough of your blood? Why sacrifice yourselves in a bloody civil war when you can join us? Join us, and gain everything. I promise you, under the rule of the Copper Isles, you shall not be overlooked."

"How do we know that?" One of the headmen stood, a scowl on his face. "How do we know you're not just bribing us for use of our lands and soldiers? Doing the same thing he's done?"

Alianne blanched momentarily, then recovered. "I do not lie, sir. I do not make promises I know I shall not keep. Ask my subjects in the Copper Isles if I have not worked wonders for their once-suffering nation. I gave them political freedom, I gave them a king to love and believe in. My intentions are pure and honest. You will have what I promise you, I swear by the Goddess and the Black God. Now, if you would please excuse me, I have a previous engagement. My generals shall remain with you to work out the details and answer any of your questions."

As she turned on her heel and walked out the door, she felt the weight of their stares on her back. Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, she turned to Antonio, flashing him a brilliant grin. "Like stealing candy from a baby."

"Have you ever tried to steal candy from a baby? It's not as easy as they say it is...I had six younger brothers and sisters."

"Unlucky you. I was always the baby of the family, since I was the only girl. Right after I was born, my older brother always tried to make me cry. For some reason, he found it amusing."

Antonio smiled. "Were you their punching bag?"

"Hardly," she replied. "Eventually, if they tried to hit me, I'd hit them right back. I was a fiesty little child."

"You still are, Majesty." He bowed and returned into the room, leaving her alone in the hallway.

Part of her wished that she could be free of her own ambition, her own thirst for power. That small part of her now cried out, begging her to reconsider, to think of all the innocent lives that would be lost. You have to make sacrifices with matters such as this, the other part of her said. Think of all the lives you will save in the elimination of warfare by conquering the Eastern Lands. Everything will be yours...everything...

Still trying to shake her mind of the haunting feelings of guilt, Alianne walked up into the great hall of the castle. She smiled wickedly as she passed Lord Martin of Meron, tied up and heavily guarded along with his family and other household members.

"Give it up," he called. "Jonathan's soldiers will soon be here. You won't hold this city for long."

Alianne stopped, and turned slowly, walking towards Lord Martin, her face bland. She stopped and looked down on him. "Forgive me, my lord, when I say that Jonathan lacks the ability to do anything about this. He can spare few soldiers, and he certainly wouldn't send the entire army just to rescue a replaceable lord, now would he?"

Martin paled, knowing her words were true. "You...you will never get away with this! We have many allies!"

"Correction, my lord. You had many allies. Either we've bought them off or they've simply lost interest in your welfare. The latter seems to be the case for most, as it took little persuasion and almost no monetary compensation to convince some of your neighbors to fight under our banner."

Lord Martin fell silent, his face ashen. Alianne turned to look at his oldest son Geoffrey, who glared back. She laughed. "You all would be much better off if you'd agree to cooperate."

Observing this from behind the tapestries, Neal signaled to his men to be on guard. In truth, he still needed to reflect on how easy it had been to sneak into the captured city. Jonathan had warned them all to expect small armies of soldiers at the ready to attack. Instead, a few gold coins had bought the cooperation of one of the Bazhir guards at the gate. Next to him, Kel gave a little sigh. After a year of idleness, she was finally being given a real assignment.

At that moment, Kel's heart was pounding. Here she was, about to beat the crap out of the woman who would see all of them destroyed. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, even more so than when she had fought Blayce or Stenmun. Because this time, she knew she would do it, and she was looking forward to doing it.

Over one tapestry, Thom was trying to signal Neal, to tell him to stop what they were doing. He tried to do so in vain, for if he wanted to succeed, he'd be found by not too friendly Copper Isles guards.

"One...two...THREE!" Neal, Kel, and all the other soldiers at various points in the room jumped out from their hiding places, brandishing weapons of all kinds. Lord Martin looked extremely relieved. His captor did not.

She turned white with fury, her eyes narrowing dangerously. While she was surveying the room, one of the knights took the opportunity to attempt to grab her.

"Stop!" Thom yelled over all the noise. Everyone turned to look at him, everyone except for Neal.

"Holy shit," he cried out. "That's your sister!"

Alianne glared at him before shouting something in Spanish. Within seconds, a whole group of Copper Isles soldiers had arrived, looking to their queen for instructions. Following them was a group of Bazhir. Roald whistled. "That's the assembly of headmen," he muttered. "She really plays dirty, doesn't she?"

She smiled triumphantly. "This is the best Jonathan can do? Then, please, bring on his best, I say. This will take little more than a week to complete."

The queen turned to her guards. "Take them into custody. I want all of them under lock and key in the dungeons. Make sure they do not escape."

Soon, the entire desert paid alleigance to the queen of the Copper Isles. The Bazhir people were split. Some remained in the north, others returned south to fight under the banner of their island neighbor. Not only did Eliana hold powerful nobles and the children of powerful nobles in Persopolis, but she also had the crown prince in her dungeons. Every day, more and more nobles advised Jonathan to concede to the powerful young woman. Even some of his most loyal councillors were skeptic about his ability to hold onto the throne.

Jonathan knew what he had to do, yet he wanted to avoid this action at all costs. He had always feared using the Dominion Jewel as a crutch, and it now seemed that was what he was about to do.

It was this he pondered late one night, sitting in his council room after the meeting had adjourned. He was so engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the door open and close lightly.

"You know, I went up in that cave and battled that gods be damned ape for a reason," a familiar voice teased. "I went through a hell of a lot of trouble to get that jewel for you, and I intend that you use it."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

Alanna smiled. "I always know what you're thinking, Jon. Remember, I'm telepathic."

"Sure, just keep telling yourself that." He sighed deeply. "But seriously, I don't know what to do. Every action I take backfires on me. I thought we could get rid of her quietly down in Persopolis. So, I send a lot of useful people down there. Then what happens? They all end up locked in a dungeon. Mithros knows what's going to happen to them. Not to mention the Bazhir have turned against us. You know, Alanna, maybe my reign really is cursed."

"Jonathan, I never want to hear you say that again," she snapped. "After everything you and Thayet have done for Tortall, you suddenly start believing rumors that circulated over twenty years ago. Just because we had that problem with Carthak and the immortals, then Scanra, and now the Copper Isles does not mean your reign is cursed. We've overcome all those obstacles; we'll do it again, I promise. That little queen of theirs is getting what's coming to her, don't worry."

"Are you going to be the one to do the honors?"

She laughed. "I've already got my strategy planned out. See, I'd love to just torture her for days on end...make her feel a little bit of pain. Then, the real fun begins." She frowned. "But remember, when anyone else comes to you, I've got first dibs. Got it?"

"I promise, when we catch Eliana, you can be the one to kill her. It's rather barbaric, but go ahead, have a field day. After all, you deserve it." He looked up to see her eyes fill with pain.

"After what those bastards did to Alianne, absolutely." She looked at him. "By the way, what does this Eliana look like?"

Jon frowned slightly. "Rumored to be quite pretty. Tall, thin, long blonde hair. Her eyes are apparently amazing. Why?"

"She has a daugher named..."

"Elena. Alanna, why the sudden interest in her?"

His champion shook her head slightly. "It's nothing, really. Jon, go to sleep. It's past your bedtime."

"Yes, Mother."

"You know it," she shot back before leaving. Jonathan sighed, settling himself in his chair. Though his body begged for it, his mind was to restless for sleep. Instead, he pondered the various outcomes of his decisions all night long, until the light of dawn touched his windows. Only then did he rise and exit the council chamber, still deep in thought.

Alanna didn't return to her bed that night. Instead, she found herself wandering into a certain one of the rose gardens. She looked up; it was a full moon. A night for lovers, she thought wryly. Her mind was brought back to a time many years before...her seventeenth birthday.

Things were so simple then. Even though I thought they couldn't get more complicated at the time, they did. How I've changed since I sat here last...I was young then, naïve, trusting. Why do I do this anymore? What's the point, honestly? Do I even know what I'm fighting for anymore, or do I do it simply because I feel I have to? Is there something wrong that all I want is a good six months of blessed peace and quiet, without worrying about the Copper Isles, or Scanra? Why can't I have my daugher back?

This last question brought her back to the present at a blindingly fast pace. Though it had been almost three years since her daughter had disappeared, something inside wouldn't let her believe that she had been killed. No, Alianne was still alive...and she wanted to know where.

Sitting cross-legged before the fire, Alianne stared into the flames. Her eyes were wide and devoid of emotion as she took in the light. The spell she was performing required patience, a virtue she had not yet acquired. She was distracted by the shouts of pain and anguish coming from the dungeons below her. Goddess, she thought venemously, haven't they learned if they just answer the damn questions outright, we won't have to go through this meticulous procedure? Oh, fine, what the hell...

She walked lightly down a staircase leading into the hallway of cells. About a quarter were empty. Firmly setting her body, she began to walk past the prisoners, ignoring their curses and hate-filled insults. These were commoners, nothing better than the filth of the Corus sewers. She turned a corner to where the nobles were being held. Here, there was no torture...not yet. Should they prove cooperative, there would be no need for any.

"Well, well, well," a caustic voice called. "Look who it is. It's the...queen of the Copper Isles. The king's own whore!"

Neal half-smiled at her. He attempted a bow from where he was chained to the wall, but could not succeed.

"Sit down," she snapped. "You must really enjoy pain, Nealan. For you will be experiencing a great deal of it very soon in the future if you don't shut your mouth."

Though he was quiet, the young knight still viewed her with great dislike. Turning away from him, she passed Roald. He smiled weakly at her. "Who would've thought? Little Ali, the greatest threat this nation has ever seen. You know most of my father's nobles are pressuring him to just step down and give the crown to you peacefully?"

"See, that's idealistic, Roald, but then I wouldn't have any fun," she joked. "I hate gaining things without a challenge. It's like cheating."

He shrugged. "I guess." He closed his eyes, but only for a moment. "Say, Alianne, you don't think you could arrange for some better food in here? This steady diet of stale bread and water is starting to irk me."

As she walked down the hall, she looked back over her shoulder. "I'll see what I can do," she told him. Her brother lounged in his own cell, looking merely bored. She stopped in front of him, raising a single eyebrow.

"Well?"

He rolled his hazel eyes. "Well what? What do you want me to say to you, Ali? What is there to say?"

"How about, 'I'm sorry I got you in trouble by letting you dye your hair blue and therefore starting a chain of events that shall result in the overthrowing of the Conté family'?"

Thom sat up. "Oh, wait, so this is my fault now?" he exclaimed indignantly. "That's right, just blame it on me. So, when several thousand people die, their blood is on my hands? Is that it? I don't think so, Ali. Your own ambition has caused all of this; your own sick, twisted mind which dictates the rest of you in such a way that would make a grown man cry. What is wrong with you? What have they turned you into?"

Alianne shifted her weight from one foot to another. All of the other noble prisoners were listening intently. She hesitated before venturing into the conversation again. "No one has turned me into anything...everything I have done has been directed by myself and no other. My subjects praise my name more than they praise most gods. They worship me, they pay me homage. I am their queen, their goddess. I have been one of the greatest rulers in the history of my country. What do you care if I take Jonathan's crown? If anything, I should think you'd be happy. Imagine what it will bring you, to have your sister on the throne."

He raised an eyebrow. "Unlike you, Alianne, some people do not plot, scheme, or kill for power. They receive it honestly."

"What does it matter, how I achieve power, so long as I get there? I will rule an empire greater than Alexander's, than Caesar Augustus's. My name will be glorified throughout history, and I will be worshiped by all." She smiled. "If this is about jealousy, then..."

"Ali," Thom began sadly, "the most unhappy person on earth could never even think about being jealous of you. You have turned into something...cold, inhuman. You have no heart, no compassion. To you, everything is a game, a plot to gain more power. News flash, sister dearest, it's not...there are so many more things to life. Why have you turned your back on them? On happiness?"

"We have very different views on happiness, then." Alianne sighed. "Oh, Thom, please don't be difficult. I would ask Numair to do this, but he's too...oh, tempermental." She paused before changing the subject. "I need you to do something for me."

"Do what?" His voice was suspicious.

"I want you to lend me some of your Gift...I need to do a really simple spell."

"That's it? Just a simple spell?" She nodded.

Thom looked highly skeptical. "What exactly did you have in mind? Because if you do something daft, then I'm going to get in trouble for it..."

Being trapped in the Realms of the Dead was not a particularly comfortable situation. Especially not when you had been...somewhat evil during your life. Stuck alone in a freezing cold expanse of land devoid of any greenery was Roger of Conté's punishment for his past mishaps. Two lifetimes of them, to be exact. The Black God had not been pleased when the duke had cheated death, therefore his eternal damnation was increased somewhat. It wasn't the cold, or the isolation that bothered Roger the most...it was the sheer boredom.

Here he waited, for the day some young sorceror would raise him from the dead. Of course, he didn't need to leech their Gift anymore; hardly, since his had been restored to full power after such a long dormant period. Another thing that annoyed him was not being able to know what was going on in the world. How many years had passed since his death? What had happened to Jonathan?

Well, as fate would often have it, he was about to find out.

In the midst of pondering what the meaning of death was, he began to feel warm. Feeling surged through his limbs, he closed his eyes against the sudden bright light shining in front of them. Instead of a harsh wind roaring, he heard the pleasant sounds of a crackling fire. Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes, blinking several times in succession. Though his sight was still blurry, he could make out a figure sitting across from the bed he lay on. As his vision sharpened, he could see that the person was female.

"Roger of Conté. It appears you cannot stay dead. My mother shall be most distressed to hear of your return. Again."

She was mocking him! This young girl was mocking him! He sat up indignantly, a fierce scowl on his handsome face. "Listen, I would have you know that I..."

She stood up and crossed the room, rolling her eyes. "Goddess, I know who you are and what you did. You had guts, I'll admit, but not much sense. You could've taken Jonathan's throne, had you thought out your strategy a bit more." She smiled smugly. "Though I look quite young, I am about to complete your task."

"Oh, well," Roger snapped. "Then why d'you need me, if you're so close to usurping Jonathan? Did you think that they might fear you more?"

"Stop, stop. For the love of Mithros, settle down. Let me explain...my name is Alianne, though the world knows me as Eliana. I am the queen of the Copper Isles and commander of one of the largest armies ever to grace the earth with its presence. I need you because you are a powerful sorceror, and the only mages as powerful as you would never help me." She smiled. "What else do you want to know?"

Roger frowned slightly. "How long has it been since I last died?"

"Twenty-three, twenty-four years."

He whistled. "Long time, then. What happened to Jonathan? Obviously he's still on the throne."

"Not for long." Alianne shrugged. "Married Princess Thayet shortly after his coronation. They have five children...Prince Roald married Princess Shinkokami of the Yamani Islands and Princess Kalasin is now empress of Carthak. I'm not sure about the other three...it's been several years since I've seen them. I only know about Roald and Kally because I was at Roald's wedding, and Emperor Kaddar is one of my primary allies."

Roger raised his eyebrows. "But if Kaddar is one of your allies...oh, I guess that makes sense. Whatever happened to my cousin's lovely champion?"

At this, she smiled. "Married, three children. What else is there to say? I haven't seen my parents for, oh, three years."

At that, he really looked at her. There it was...her eyes. She had Alanna's eyes, though her hair was blonde. "Interesting, as I take it you brought me back? Isn't that slightly..."

"Ironic? Absolutely. I find it unbelievably funny...anyway, I didn't do it all on my own. Since your body was...destroyed at your last death, I didn't have the power to bring you back on my own, so I borrowed some of my older brother's Gift. He's a mage...a powerful one."

"Well," he began slowly, "I thank you for this, my dear. Now, what is it exactly that you need me to do?"

"Jonathan has that gods be damned Dominion Jewel, meaning he'll use it to turn nature against me. D'you know how hard it's going to be to get to Corus with that thing in the way? By then, he could have raised an army to rival mine, since thanks to my grandfather he certainly knows how many he needs."

Roger nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Intricate spells such as ones used to raise the dead often interrupted other workings of magic. Sometimes, if they were powerful enough, they might even affect the ordinary world. Early one morning, Alanna sat straight up in her bed, knowing that something was wrong. Quickly she rose, moving silently so that she would not wake George, still sound asleep.

Once in the stables, she tried to remember where she'd felt this way before. Oh, Goddess, she remembered. Port Caynn. I felt that sense of evil and foreboding in the air when Thom...brought Roger back. But his body was consumed in flame down in the tombs, so bringing him back would be impossible for all but the most powerful mages. A thought occured to her. Who does that little sorceress have in Persopolis with her?

Alanna opted not to take a ride as she had planned, instead walking back inside the palace. She ran back up to her rooms, shaking George awake.

"What is wrong now?" he asked her, annoyed that she had woken him so early. "Dawn's in what, two hours? Couldn't you let me sleep?"

"No, this is important! Get up...something's wrong."

He frowned. "What do you mean, something's wrong?"

"Do you remember that fall I stayed with you in Port Caynn? On All Hallow's, you came back to Corus for some reason I can't remember. Anyway, that's not the point. That was the day Thom brought Roger back...you said yourself you felt the city shake. Even in Caynn I felt it."

"Alanna, what does this have to do with anything? It's three in the morning...I really don't feel like reminscing about your brother...I didn't even like him."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know you two didn't like each other. Thom didn't like anyone. The point I'm trying to make is I felt that again...though from farther away. Someone's brought Roger back."

"Eliana?" He shook his head. "With him on her side, she's halfway up the aisle in the Hall of Crowns. Fine, fine, let me get dressed."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. She left, swiftly making her way towards where Raoul and Buri lived. Raoul was luckily already awake. She told him what she felt had happened, and what she wanted to do about it. He agreed, going to wake Jonathan. Alanna was left to relay the tale to Buri, who swore quietly.

"Why can't that man just stay dead? I don't understand why everyone wants to bring him back..."

Alanna shrugged, looking out the window. "I only hope we can stop them before it's too late."

"You did what?!?!"

Alianne winced. Her brother could be quite frightening when he wanted to be, inheriting that particular trait from both his parents. However, the look on Thom's face now was worse than any she'd ever seen on her mother or father. He looked ready to kill her, were he given a chance.

"Let me get this straight...you borrowed some of my Gift to bring Roger back from the dead, after our mother has already killed him...twice!"

She concealed her fear, drumming her long fingers gracefully on the marble table beside her adopted throne. Roger lounged nearby in an armchair, an amused smile on his face as he regarded the oldest son of his enemy. Thom paid him no attention whatsoever; his focus was completely on Alianne. Antonio sat next to his queen, watching her brother carefully.

"Good Lord, Thom, calm down," Alianne replied in a soothing voice, "it's not such a big deal. Roger is merely here to help me, since you and Numair are proving most obdurate. It's not like he intends to take the throne."

The young mage threw up his hands, making a frustrated noise before he stormed out of the room. Antonio followed, leaving Roger alone with Alianne, who sighed and slumped down in her seat.

"There are times I wish I'd never been born," she mumbled. "This is most definitely one of them."

Roger inspected his fingernails. "Oh, my dear, but if you hadn't been born, then I would still be stuck in hell. I, for one, am most grateful for your existence."

"Well, thank you. It's nice to know someone cares." She flicked her eyes in his direction. "What actually happened with you and my mother?"

"What, they haven't poisoned your mind against me already?" He met her gaze, his crystalline blue stare causing her to shiver. "Honestly, I'm not sure how I made the mistake of letting her know of my plans. A simple error, I'm sure."

She frowned slightly, trying to collect her thoughts. All of the sudden, bringing Roger back didn't seem like such a wonderful idea...he might have ulterior motives. In fact, he most definitely did. Oh well, it's a little late for that now.

In Corus, the court tried to carry on the ridiculous notion that all was well, that the threat of the Copper Isles did not loom on the horizon. Alan thought they were all fools, though that's not saying much, given as he thought pretty much everyone was somewhat mentally incompetent. So, night after night of glittering parties, banquets, and balls, he joked and flirted as if he too was trying to force himself to believe that life was perfectly normal. He pretended to ignore the fact that his brother was being held prisoner by a ruthless megalomaniac.

Alan's conscience was pricking, however, during these shallow fall weeks. For, of course, he knew who Eliana truly was. Everytime he heard someone curse her, he winced, knowing what would happen to his family if anyone ever discovered Alianne. Because she was born a Tortallan, his twin would be found guilty of high treason should she lose the war. There was no doubt she would be tortured day and night, and finally burned on Traitor's Hill. It was this knowledge that dulled the sparkle in his eyes, the joking nonchalance in his voice. Alan was...gone. Replaced by a mere shadow of his former self.

He drummed long fingers lightly on the stone as he leaned against a battlement, thinking hard. His sister had done the unthinkable; brought Roger back from the dead...again. His mother was beside herself, and she didn't even know about her daughter.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Oh shit. He faked a smile. "Just pondering the agreement of various colors, nothing else."

"Liar." Alanna sighed as she looked out over Corus. "You're pitiful, you know that? Gods, your father's awful at it..."

"And you're such a professional, I suppose?"

She laughed. "That I am. Listen, I need to ask you something. And be perfectly honest with me, because I'll be able to tell if you're not. What's wrong with you? You haven't been yourself since you came home from the Copper Isles."

Alan braced himself. It was time to tell her...she was going to find out anyway. "Mother...Alianne's alive."

She looked merely surprised. He paled slightly, trying to work up the courage to say what he had to.

"Alianne...Alianne..."

"What about her?" Alanna sounded terse. "Well?"

Alan bit his lip. "Alianne is the queen, Mother. Alianne is the one trying to kill Jonathan; the one who brought Roger back. Alianne is Eliana."

A/N: Good place to end that, huh? Now listen up, y'all. I have busted my ass trying to get this story out by this week. It's f-ing longer than usual...not to mention a shitload of stuff happens. I would like to tell you that I have stayed up way late a good many nights writing this...I have blown off studying for like, three tests...

I'm in five honors classes. I dance five times a week, I play the flute and the piccolo, I'm a mentor to middle school girls, and I teach CCD (Religious Ed in the Catholic faith). I have given every INCH of spare time to writing this chapter over the past week. I'm a tired wreck after cramming this into my schedule.

Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE writing. I love writing this fic...it's an escape. So, I'm going to try and write as much as possible...I'm not making any more promises about release dates, though. I'm sorry guys, but there aren't enough hours in the day!!!