A/N – Okay, so I said this one would be more 'action-y'. I lied, sue me (please don't) -_^

I've finally worked out the entire plot proper now, so there'll be less of the pointless meandering along of the second chapter, at least. And a cracker of a plot it is, if I don't say so myself (which I am). Anyway – as always, enjoy!

…and review…

***

"Books are dull." Alanna stated with a sigh, slamming one of the aforementioned items onto the dusty table. They were in the Royal Library at the moment; pouring over volumes Jon had retrieved dealing with, as he said, 'Dimensional and Temporal distortions'. She just called it boring. "Why would anyone want to write such a thing as-" she glanced at the book she had just been reading, "-'A Treatise on Magical Transportation and…'" she squinted at the cover, frowning. "Well, I don't know what the hell that word is."  

"Dissociation." Jon didn't bother to look up at her as he replied, engrossed in his own leather-bound volume as he was, "And people get paid good coin for writing these things, Alanna. Plus they're necessary for other sorcerer's, to learn the theory behind spells." He looked up at her as she snorted at him, "Alanna, I'll be the first to admit that reading these books is not the most interesting way we could be spending our time. But a sword isn't going to help us get back to our world. A book on sorcery, however, may well do so."

She pouted. "That's stupid."

"Thank you for that insightful comment." Jon replied, exasperated, "Should I perhaps ask whoever or whatever did this to us, if it even was someone in particular, to perhaps challenge you to a duel instead? Maybe you can send us back just by stabbing him in the gut."

"No need for sarcasm," she was a bit put out by his response. She knew they'd both been under a fair bit of pressure recently, and so a little leeway was necessary, but he didn't have to be so scathing about it. "I just wish there was something immediate I could do. I'm not good at this researching thing – my head hurts, having to read all these."

Jon sighed, "You're right. I'm sorry; I'm just annoyed that not one of these books talks about what happened to us."

"What did happen to us?" she asked, "I mean, what do you think happened to us?"

Shrugging, he replied. "I'm not sure, really. At first I remember a spell that allows a sorcerer to…push…someone back into the past, to that person's own memory of the past, but it's nothing like this. I think we're looking at other worlds, or something, here – which is why I've got you reading some of Devrolet's works."

"Lucky me."

"He was a master at such transportation rituals," Jon continued, ignoring her dry comment, "Just look for any reference to other realms, or something. Anything that looks like what happened last night."

She frowned, "What do you mean?"

He looked up from the book, a puzzled look on his face. "I-I don't know. It just slipped out." He mumbled, after a long while. "I just…"

"What?"

"I have this feeling that there's something about the night that I should be remembering, but-"

"But every time you try and think on it, the thought slips away?" she proffered. It sounded just like what had happened to her earlier; a memory of a memory of something important happening.

Jon nodded, "Yeah. You too?"

"Pretty much. I thought I remembered something of note when I was looking at that Wall Hanging earlier, but when I tried to focus on it, it just vanished."

"When, before breakfast?" he queried, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"No, after breakfast."

"Oh." He added, softly. "You had another look at the Hanging?" She nodded, "Why?"

"I don't know; I wanted another look at it, I suppose." She shrugged, "Good times, y'know?" Well, they were good times. She had enjoyed her time amongst the Bazhir, and most of what occurred during that time. The fight with Jon had been a notable exception…though she had been very happy with their situation before that fight.

Jon smiled at her, "I guess so." His smile widened into a wicked grin; "Deserts always do seem to be interesting with us."

"That they do," she smiled back at him. They held a gaze for a long moment; he looked very handsome in this low, flickering torchlight, she thought warmly. Suddenly realizing just what direction her thoughts were taking, she tore her eyes away from Jon's, violently picking up the book in front of her and burying in her nose in it. She heard Jon coughing softly, before he too busied himself elsewhere in the stack of books.

They stayed like that for a while, though Alanna was not able to understand what the book was talking about any better than she had before, until Jon eventually broke the silence. "Oh, that's right." Her eyes flew up at his voice, startled by the sudden noise, "Uhh, you said that you had one of these strange memory…" he searched for a word, "lapses, right? Similar to what I experienced, I assume." She nodded, "Well, I was thinking it might be useful to think about doing a memory spell – to try and find out what we can't remember. It might give us a vital clue as to our current situation, and how to get back."

Alanna thought on it; it was a very good idea, truth be told. "It's a good idea, definitely. Can you work such a spell?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I'll have to look out for a specific spell, and think things over a little more from there."

She frowned as he just sat there, "Alright." She drawled, "Why don't you get on that then."

Jon coloured slightly, "Right. Good point." He pushed himself off the chair slowly, making his way into the stacks. She rolled her eyes at his back; honestly, if she weren't around to prod him, sometimes he'd never get anything done. Not that it's any different with you, a rebellious voice whined from the back of her head. True, but that's something she liked to gloss over. Grinning to herself, she put the heavy and boring book back onto the table, putting her hands behind her head as she rocked back in the chair. Her eyelids were heavy; it had been a most tiring day – and it was only just gone midday! She had hoped to explore a little of the city this afternoon; to find George, mainly. But with this research perhaps leading to a possible solution, she'd probably have to stay indoors for the rest of the day, perhaps even in the library all day! She grimaced, that was a most unsettling thought. Sitting down for hours upon end was not the way she liked to live her life.

As if to emphasise this point, a few minutes later her left leg fell asleep. Cursing as she did so, she stood and walked around for a few moments to get the blood flowing again. As she walked, she noticed that Jon was standing in the stacks not all that far from her, a dark look upon his face as he read from a book. She waddled over to him, wincing at the pain. You'd think that a fully trained Knight could work through this pain, she snidely thought to herself, but no! We get taught all about swordcraft and battle wounds. Why can't they teach us how to stop our limbs falling asleep and an effective cure for hiccups?

"Are you alright?" She asked Jon as she neared him, banishing her silly thoughts to the back of her mind.

"What?" he replied, startled by her presence. "Oh, yes. Yes. I'm fine."

She frowned, he certainly didn't sound fine. She gestured at the book he was reading, "What's that?"

Flicking the spine of the book towards her, he softly read it for her. "A study of the Tortallan Civil War.'"

"I don't remember being taught about any Civil War Tortall's ever had." She wondered.

Jon nodded, "That's because there never had been one." He added, softly. "Except that this one, so I've discovered, happened all of seven years ago."

"What?"

He opened the book again, flicking through the pages until he found something, before reading aloud. "'The War, if it can be defined as such, was a series of battles between the forces of the Rightful King,' though-" he added to Alanna, "-that's not necessarily saying much, since I apparently won, 'and some breakaway fiefs and provinces in the years 447 through to 449 H.E. The rebellious nobles, demanding what they claimed was 'their due' of Royal taxes, fought in a strangely cohesive manner for such a fractitious group, managing to best the small amount of Royal Forces sent against them. In the winter of the year 448, they lay siege to the Capital, eventually falling after two months of their cowardly besiegement.'" He stopped, closing the book suddenly. "There's more, of course. That's just a short summary of what happened."

"Is it-?"

"True? I don't know. Probably – I know the author of this. His definition of imaginative is using spoons instead of forks at the dinner table. This-" he waved the book, "-is well beyond anything he'd write if it was fictional."

Alanna chewed on her lip for a moment; this was…bizarre. How could things be so different here? She really didn't have the slightest idea on that front, though maybe Jon might have some theories. "Do you have any idea how things could be so different?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I find it strange that these 'rebel' fiefs were able to lay siege to Corus for as long as they did, though."

"Why?" a thought struck her; "Oh, because of the Dominion Jewel?"

"Yes. I know it's a risk to use it, to use it when there's no real need to do so, but according to this we were besieged for two months! I surely would have used it before then, regardless of the consequences!"

The picture was forming in Alanna's mind, "Hang on. We married after you visited me while I was with the Bazhir, right?"

"I guess so. At least, what I gathered from Gary, not to mention the whole thing about the Hanging near our room."

"Right. So I would have returned from the desert long before Halef Seif asked me to find that friend of his-"

"Which means you never would have gotten that map." Jon added, catching onto her train of thought.

"Which means I would never have gone to Sarain, never met up with Thayet and Liam, and-" she trailed off, waiting for him to finish the thought.

Jon paled, "And never gotten the Dominion Jewel." He sighed, "What else is different, then? I mean, if our marriage could have such an affect there, what else might have been affected?"

Now it was her turn to pale; "What of Roger?" Her eyes widened – she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of this before hand – "What of Thom?"

Jon looked at her, solemnly. "I think it might be best to find out."

"When?" She asked. Her mind was muddled now – she had just assumed her brother was dead; but with the revelation that things could have changed to the extent that she had never gone to Chitral Pass, might it be that her beloved brother was alive?

He took her by the hand, "I'm thinking now."

***

They raced along the halls of the Palace, making for the east tower. Jon had asked a servant soon after they left the library where 'Master Thom's' residence was located, and they had been directed here. If she wasn't so astounded by the fact that Thom was seemingly alive, then she might have been concerned with the look of amazement the servant had directed at them – she supposed it was very odd. The King and Queen seemingly not knowing where a member of their (extended) family was housed, but she honestly didn't care at this point.

Thom's Alive!

After what seemed an eternity of climbing and walking very swiftly along stairs and passages, Jon stopped outside a doorway. She had no idea where the room was that the servant had pointed them towards, but she was fine with Jon leading her. "Is this it?" she asked, catching her breath.

Jon nodded softly. "Uh-huh. This is it."

She didn't need any more. Raising her hand, she knocked repeatedly on the door. "Thom?"

After a few moments, a small voice floated out to them. "Go away!"

"Thom, it's us. Open the door." Jon called out.

"Oh, in that case," Thom's voice was a little closer now. "Go away!"

Alanna let a wild grin spread across her face, before raising her voice. "If you don't open that door this instant, Thom, I'm going to have to come in there and-!" She cut off as the door in front of them violently opened of it's own accord. 

"Alright, alright. Come in." Thom's voice told them. Alanna raced into the room, noting it's incredibly spacious and lavish interior, before noting a man sitting at a desk in the corner. His back to them, she couldn't see his face – but his copper hair and black robe distinguished him as her brother. Her brother, here – alive and seemingly well. She rushed over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned in his chair, "What is it? And what are you so happy ab- Hrmph!"

Crushing him in her arms, Alanna mumbled the same words over and over again – "You're alive! You're alive!" Thom fumbled around in her grasp, attempting to get free – unfortunately, all he accomplished was him loosing his balance and falling off the chair, Alanna tumbling with him. She didn't release him, however, hugging him tighter.

"Uh, Alanna?" she heard Jon's voice from above her, "Do you think he might be wanting a breath of air anytime soon?"

Her eyes widened, and she released Thom suddenly. "Oh! Sorry! I wasn't thinking." She added, meekly.

Thom was gulping as he sat up, eyes bulging. "Not that that's a new thing for you," he joked. "Honestly, Alanna. What's gotten into you?"

She waited until he looked like he had gotten his breath back, before she engulfed him in another hug. He was alive!

"Jon?" Thom croaked out from under her grip, "What is the matter with her?"

The King smiled, "Nothing."

"You're alive!" she whispered again, tears slipping from her eyes now.

"Of course I am!" he replied, finally pushing away from her grasp. "Why wouldn't I be? Are you sure she's ok?" he asked Jon again.

"She's fine. Well, sort of. Mostly, I guess."

Thom raised his eyebrows, "And that answers' filling no-one with confidence. Please, Jon – is she alright? And I'm looking for a yes or no response here."

:"Yes. She's fine."

Alanna's brother nodded, before frowning. "So why's she acting so weird?"

"Long story." Jon replied, before he grasped Alanna's shoulder. "Come on, Lioness. Don't want to make your brother uncomfortable, do you?"

"What?" She was off in a world of her own. Seeing Thom again was just…fantastic. No matter what else was 'wrong' with this place, she'd always be thankful for this moment. She had purposefully ignored the issue of her and Jon having to leave again; she didn't want to think of that. Not now, at any rate. "Oh, ok." She took Jon's hand, and was subsequently pulled to her feet; before smiling at Jon in thanks.

Thom mouthed the words thank you to Jon, before he patted down his robe. "Long story, you say?" He began, "But those are the best kind!"

Shaking his head, Jon disagreed. "No, never mind, Thom. She's fine, she's just a little…excited."

"She is standing right here," she cut in – finally coming back to her sense. Goddess Bless! Thom's standing right here! She turned to Jon, realizing for the first time just how close they were standing. It was nice…in that – by now – familiar uncomfortable way. She quickly took a step backwards, a small step, anyway. "Jon, maybe he can help us! You said yourself that we'll need a powerful sorcerer just for the memory spell – and maybe he knows about the other thing as well."

"Okay, now you're really making me nervous." Thom interjected, "What under Mithros' Light are you talking about, sister?"

She looked up at Jon, imploring him to agree with her. He shrugged his shoulders. "It makes sense."

"What makes sense?" her brother was almost whining by now, "By the Gods! What is wrong with you two?"

Alanna turned back to her brother. "This might be a little hard to believe, Thom – but please, just hear me out." She waited until her brother nodded, and motioned for him to sit. "Jon did say that it was a long story, after all. And he's right…well, sort of. I mean, 'We're not the Alanna and Jon you know' pretty much sums it up, but there's more to it than-"

"What?" Thom interrupted, "You're not Alanna and Jon?"

"No!" She quickly backtracked, "No, we are! Just…not the one's you know."

"That makes no sense."

Sighing, Jon cut in on the explanations. "It does, but we understand that it's…odd. Look, I'm not going to try and dumb it down for you, since I don't think you'd really respect me doing that." Thom gave a small nod in reply, "But basically? We're from another world. We're who we are- Uh, by that meaning that we're Alanna of Trebond and Jonathan of Conte, but we're not the same Alanna and Jon that exist in this world."

"So," Thom murmured, "You're saying that you're from a parallel Universe."

Jon blinked. "Well, yeah. I guess." He looked over at Alanna. "Are we saying that?" She just shrugged – damned if she knew.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Thom threw up his hands, "Anyway; this is very interesting. Makes me want to lock the two of you up and perform experiments on you both!"

Alanna looked at Jon, a startled expression on her face. More than anything else, she was amazed by how easily Thom had accepted their story. "Please don't." she told her brother. "But we do need your help."

"Well, I'm very busy, but I'll see what I can do. Tell me what you want me to do, first of all."

She motioned for Jon to take up the explaining. He knew more about this sorcerous stuff than she did, after all. "Well, we will eventually need to find a spell or something to get us back to our world," Thom nodded sagely, "but first there's something else. It seems that when we try to remember what happened to us on that night, we get…" he searched for the right word, "it's like we know that there's a memory of great importance that we have, but whenever we try and focus on it – it slips away."

Thom frowned, before muttering "How odd." He looked very confused, now. Why was that?

"So we were thinking of perhaps doing a spell to retrieve our memories of that night; it's a way to get that one memory back that just…feels like it's incredibly important. Which is a better place to start than us just searching through every book on sorcery in the library."

"That- That's a good idea." Thom murmured. He still looked a little distracted, standing up and pacing around for a few moments; "Are you sure that there is…this memory…that you're telling me about?"

"Quite sure," Jon replied. "Why is that difficult to believe?"

"Oh, no real reason." Her brother waved his hand, "But- Look. There's a spell I know which has a similar effect to what happened to you – it…pushes someone through a, well – I guess you could call it a gateway, but there's nothing about memory loss or anything."

"You mean Devrolet's Dimensional Doorway?" Alanna cut in, remembering something she'd read from the books she had read earlier. Jon and Thom stared at her in utter shock – how could she know something like that? She glared at them both; "What? Just because I complain and moan about reading those boring books doesn't mean that I didn't do it."

Jon suddenly shook his head and laughed, "You're something, all right. Maybe we'll make a sorcerer out of you yet." He gave her a warm grin, one that set butterflies roaring in her stomach. Stop that! You're a happily married woman! She bit her lip; Still, it's alright just to look, isn't it? She decided that it was, but she still shot a withering glare back at him. Teach him to underestimate me.

"Yes, well," her brother interjected, "If we're finished with this lovely little lovers repartee; Yes. That's the spell I meant." He turned, heading back to his desk, not noticing both Alanna and Jon blushing slightly, turning away from each other and busying their attention elsewhere. "Well, a memory spell then. To retrieve lost fragments, possibly those of an ensorcelled nature…"

"What?" she didn't know what that meant, and she certainly knew that her memories were not…insorselled…?

"He means that they might be magicked." Jon whispered to her, "That whatever brought us here also put a spell on us so we couldn't remember."

"Oh. Right." She replied, "Thanks. Of course, he could have just said that."

"He's a sorcerer, Alanna. They always talk like that."

"Aha!" Thom's voice carried from his desk. He was clutching a small satchel; a plain leather thing. Very much unlike the rest of his belongings – she realised. All his furniture was heavy wood, gilded edged and dark. His clothes were the finest material money could buy – what was he doing with this plain leather satchel? One that didn't even look like there was anything in it at all! Thom stuck his hand into it – to be precise, he stuck his whole arm in there - and Alanna gaped; how was that possible!? "I know what I'm looking for now, yes. Portnill's study on the human mind and how magic can affect it. I know it's in here somewhere…" he rummaged around a little more, before obviously finding what he was looking for, pulling out a large tome from the tiny satchel. "Here we go."

"How…?" she began, confused.

"What?" Thom replied, already starting to flick through the pages of the book. She gestured to the satchel he held in his hands, "Oh, this. Well, it's magic, of course. Helps me store all my books in one place. Also allows me to carry them around, because it never weighs more than the satchel itself, regardless of how much I put in it. Took me months to create, too. Worth it, though."

"Amazing." Jon murmured. She found herself nodding – it truly was. Think of the uses it could have in warfare – one archer could hold thousands of arrows! Knights could carry entire suits of armour with them, different suits for different conditions.

"Have you ever made any others?" She asked, "I mean, did…we…ever ask for some?"

"Uhm, I think so. Maybe, it would have been a long time ago." Thom shrugged, "But they're incredibly difficult to make – I can't make them easily. I don't think I had the materials at the time, either."

"Oh." She replied, somewhat curious. She wouldn't have given up trying to get her brother to make one of these. "What am I like in this world?" She tentatively asked.

Thom frowned. "I don't know if I can explain it to you, really. I mean, I don't think you'd be too different."

"Things are plenty different." Jon put in. "For one thing, Alanna and I aren't together."

"Really?" Thom replied, genuinely shocked. "But the way yo-"

Jon cut him off – "Not together."

"Oh. Well then, maybe things really are different." Thom was still gaping slightly, "Uh, Alanna. You're…as fiery as you ever were, though being Queen tempered that somewhat." He grimaced, "Not to get too personal or anything, but since neither of you know the past – well, you've not been too happy since the end of the Civil War."

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, "Unhappy?"

"It feels very odd to be discussing this," Thom murmured. "Truth be told I find it difficult to talk about. But basically the two of you haven't been the same since the Civil War. I don't really want to go into more detail than that, sorry."

"Alright." She sighed, "I understand."

Thom gave her a look of thanks, "Sorry. It's just a very uncomfortable situation. But obviously it's different in your world?"

"Yes, very." Alanna replied, "For starters, we're not together." She motioned to Jon, "And then there's things different about the past, and such."

Thom looked surprised. "Huh, odd. Maybe we'll have to talk about this some time." She smiled in agreement, "What am I like in your world? Still dashingly handsome, I hope."

Her smile slipped, and she glanced at Jon. He shot her a sympathetic glance – now she understood how uncomfortable Thom must have felt talking about 'his' Alanna and Jon. Did she want to tell the truth, or perhaps…"Well…sort of. You're still a master, and powerful, and such." She knew that wasn't convincing in the slightest, and so asked a question that had been dogging her for a while instead. "But what of Roger?"

"Roger?" Thom asked, "Roger of Conte?" She nodded to affirm his guess, "Still dead since you killed him, sister."

"Which time?"

"Which time you killed him?" Thom laughed, "I'm fairly certain I meant the only time you killed him. After your Knighting." He put a finger to his lips, thinking something over. "If I remember correctly some trull tried to make me bring him back from the dead, or something like that. Not that I would have ever done so – I know that I have the power to do it, but you saw that she was kicked out of the Palace once you heard her trying to rile me up."

Alanna let out a sigh of relief, "Good, good. That's good."

"I take it Roger didn't stay dead in your world?" Thom proffered.

Jon shook his head, "No. He comes back and almost kills us both again. But Alanna stops him, again. Killing him, again."

Smiling, Thom looked over to his sister. "There's our Lioness, eh?" He turned back to Jon, "Ours indeed." Before burying his nose back into the book that was still open in his hands. Flicking through the pages as he did so, he still stifled a laugh as Jon turned red. Eventually he found what he was looking for, "Aha! Here we go, this should work."

Alanna peered over her brother's shoulder, "Looks complicated."

"Oh, not really. A bit of chanting, a bit of incense; nothing that's particularly…" He trailed off suddenly, frowning at the page.

"What?" She asked, wondering what the matter was.

Thom grimaced, "Well, I may have spoken too soon. You see this?" He pointed to something on the page, Alanna didn't know what it indicated, but she nodded anyway. "This is a vital component of the spell. A block of crystallised amber, which will act as a temporal housing for the memories until we can filter them back in to the mind-"

"Sounds like a whole lot of fun." Alanna murmured. The memories were actually going to be removed?

"It's just temporary," Thom clarified. "Just take them all out for a moment, and then remove all enchantments from the amber, and then put the memories back in. Sounds complex, but it's actually fairly simple."

"Why can't you just remove enchantments from our heads?" she queried, "Why the Amber?"

Thom sighed, "The mind is an amazingly complex thing, Alanna. Spells directly affecting the mind have a tendency to turn the person affected into a sniveling imbecile. This spell works by…taking away the possibility of the spell touching other parts of the brain." She nodded, at least understanding a part of it now. "But the stock of high quality Amber has been long exhausted from the castle, and from most of Corus. It'll take a while before I can find some more."

Jon spoke up from the other side of the room, "How long?"

"A week or so. Maybe longer."

Alanna thought quickly, "A week. That's alright, we can handle life here for a week." She smiled softly, "I want to see George, too."

"George?" Thom spoke up, "You want to see him?"

"Yes." She asked, confused by her brother's reaction. "Why, is something wrong with him here?" her eyes widened as a horrible thought struck her, "He's not…"

"No! No…George is alive. Oh yes, very much so." Alanna let a breath of relief escape her, thank Mithros! "But…"

"But what?" Jon jumped in.

Thom winced. "I'm not sure if he'll want to see you." Seeing their confused faces, he continued. "Just that when the two of you returned from the desert all those years ago, things were never really the same between the three of you. Especially between Jon and George; at the start anyway – jealousy got the best of them, I think. Then a few years ago now, four or so I guess, George and Alanna had a bad falling out. I don't know why, she never talked about it – but she hasn't gone down into the city to see him for almost three years now."

"Well, I want to try, at least. Maybe do some good while I'm here." She replied, determined to see George.

Jon spoke softly, a strangled note to his voice. "Yes, something to do, at any rate – seeing George." He shook his head, "We've got time to burn, anyway."

"Uhh, there's one more problem," Thom interjected. "You see, it's the seven-year anniversary of the Breaking of the Siege, and we generally celebrate the week each year. But someone's been threatening the King and Queen lately; saying that they'll 'not see the end of the Week of Remembrance'. I mean, you two are usually fairly active on this front, going out and risking your life so that the people can't say you're hiding away, but these threats…whoever sent them means business. They've already killed scores of Guards over the past few months, a 'lead up to the main event', or so the notices we've been receiving from the assassin are saying."

"So we're not allowed out of the castle?" Alanna stated, appalled. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Officially?" Thom replied, "No, you're not. Of course, you're not going to be told to stay in, but Gary has ordered that a group of Guardsmen follow you whenever you leave Palace grounds. A large group of Guardsmen."

"Which means we're not really able to do anything surreptitiously." Jon mused.

Thom grinned, "Of course. That hasn't really stopped either of you. Sneaking out of the palace has become something of a game to Alanna, I think."

"Do you know how to get out of here without being seen?" She asked Thom.

He merely laughed, "Sister, you're talking to the most powerful sorcerer in the realm. If I had need to, I could just teleport you outside."

"Can you?"

Shaking his head, Thom replied in a more serious fashion, "No. Not today, I've got some other experiments going on which can't be disturbed by such a powerful force without ruining them. However," he held up a finger, and dug into his satchel, eventually pulling out a few roots. "I can alter your appearance slightly."

She nodded, "Good, good. Thanks a lot, Thom." She smiled widely, giving into the desire to hug him again. He rolled his eyes, but reciprocated. After she let go of him, she turned to Jon. "I'll go tonight, I think. If there's any other thing you want me to do in the city, just ask."

Jon thought for a moment, "Nothing off the top of my head. But just remember to be careful, and be back before it gets too late; I don't want to have to send out a search party for someone who looks nothing like the Queen."

She gave him a lopsided smile, before turning back to Thom. "Thanks for all your help, Brother." She told him, "It's amazing, to have you here again. I haven't seen you in a long while."

"Well, you'll have a week at least to see me now, sister dear." Thom replied, smiling at her. "But now we should get ready for the spell. I need to do some planning and measurements…" he trailed off as he scuttled back into an adjoining study, muttering under his breath. She and Jon stood in a comfortable silence for a while, shooting glances at each other. This afternoon had been a most…involving…one for the both of them.

"Are you sure you'll be alright with this?" Jon asked, after what seemed long minutes. "I don't want anything to happen to you out there. All this talk of assassins and Civil Wars has me rather anxious to be gone."

She waved his fears away, "Don't worry, I'll just go straight to the Dove, see George, and return. And besides, I am a Knight of Tortall, and one who can best you, as far as I can recall."

"Alas! If only your ego could have changed when we came here." Jon joked.

"My ego?!" she all but shrieked, "Look who's talking here, mister!"

He laughed, and grasped her by the shoulder. "Alright, I'm a hypocrite." His eyes suddenly felt as if they were boring into her, the warm blue eyes imploring her to take heed of his next words. "But I'm also just worried for you; don't do anything stupid out there tonight, Lioness."

"I won't." she told him seriously, somewhat affected by his stare. A warm feeling had spread over her, something she hadn't felt in a while - lust. His hand on her shoulder didn't really help, either. "Don't worry about me, worry about what you're going to be doing tonight." He really needed a shave, she decided to herself. His jaw was getting stubble all over it – she never liked him with facial hair. She frowned slightly, what was she thinking? Lusty wrong thoughts, that's what.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

She shook his hand off her shoulder, thankful that their contact was broken. "Just that I overheard some of the cooks earlier talking about a night of 'entertainment' for the Scanran Ambassador. I'd assume you'd have to be there."

"If me, then why not you?" He asked her, "You are the Queen."

"Because she never goes to these things," Thom cut in from across the room. He'd emerged from his little room, piles of rags and measuring tapes in his hand. He looked like a tailor, not a sorcerer. "She always leaves the little things to you alone, going off to do her own thing. She goes to the Banquets and balls, of course, but small dignitaries are too much for her, or something. No-one really knows why. I just think she goes off to train, or something."

Alanna smirked at Jon, raising an eyebrow at him. "There you go."

He rolled his eyes at her, "Lovely. Leave me to do all the boring things while you go off and have adventures."

"Ah," she snickered, "But would you have it any other way?"