Alanna watched George's retreating back, a hurt expression on her face. He obviously wanted to be alone.
"Doesn't want someone to worry about him, I suppose," Alanna muttered and went to her bedroom. It was still dark out. Dawn had not yet come, so Alanna took her clothes off and crawled back into bed. As much as she understood that George needed to be left alone, it hurt.
George walked into his bedroom, and froze as he saw Alanna curled up in the covers, an angelic expression on her sleeping face. He watched her shift her position for a moment, then began to take his clothes off, except for his shirt, to join her in the bed. He was chilled to the bone, and was shivering by the time he got himself into the bed.
Alanna, for some unknown reason, wrapped her body around his chilled one. George sighed in contentment, and realized that Alanna was using her Gift to warm them both up. He looked at her, surprised to see her eyes half open in sleepy pleasure.
"Are you all right now?" Alanna asked, yawning.
George sighed, arms going around her small, frail body. "With you, I'm always all right."
"Flatterer…" Alanna muttered, settling down and falling asleep again.
George smiled, and joined Alanna in sleep.
When he awoke, Alanna was sitting up in bed, book in her hands.
"Mornin' sweet," George said.
"Good morning," Alanna said, sweetly. She closed the book and put it on the table next to the bed. She moved over to where he lay and kissed him passionately. Where she drew back, they both were gasping for air, though Alanna seemed to be a little more self-satisfied.
"Bitch!" he cried out, as she smiled evilly.
"Oh, I'm not… That bad, am I?" Alanna asked, arms around George's neck. She kissed him as her hands removed the shirt he was wearing.
"You most certainly are!"
"Am I?" Alanna asked, kissing him and moving on top of him.
George groaned and captured her lips again and kissed her. And one thing led to another.
Alanna walked into the Hall of Healing in the Swoop, and saw Maude tending to Ronat. Alanna couldn't help but have uneasy feelings about the man who called himself George's father.
As she walked into the room, two small blur knocked into her from behind. It was Alan and Alianne. They both were clinging to the skirt of Alanna's gown. They both looked at her with teary-eyed expressions.
"Please don't send us away, Ma!" Alan cried out.
Alanna sank to her knees lithely, and held her children. "This is for your own good, don't you see that?" Alanna asked, brushing hair out of Alianne's eyes. "Ronat is not someone to let a chance like this get away from him. He has us here, and he knows that until Maude deems him fit enough to leave, he's staying and we can't do a thing about it.
"You two hang around this place more than Thom or the twins do. In my eyes, that puts you in very real danger. I do not want to risk losing you."
Alianne nodded, and whipped her eyes. "I guess I understand." Alan nodded agreement. "But why Coram!"
Alanna laughed. "Oh, you poor dears. Don't worry. He won't harm you too much with practices!"
Alan laughed. "We can see Beric and the others, right?"
"Of course," Alanna said softly, smoothing Alan's hair. Alanna felt a lump in her throat and tried to swallow. She knew that this was the best thing, but she didn't want to let her children out of her sight until they were ten. And Alan and Alianne were only seven—that didn't sit well with Alanna at all.
Maude came over and shooed the children out. "Alanna, if anything, he's getting worse," Maude said, worried. "Also, there's something bothering me. Like he isn't telling the exact truth. If he were truly chased out of Corus, why wouldn't he have been tracked down and killed? If he had information, it would have been a liability to let Ronat live, right?"
Alanna's frown deepened with each word Maude spoke. She was right. "Get what you can out of Ronat. In his state, tongue and mind won't be connected and he won't have a say in anything that comes out."
"And what will you do?"
"Talk to George," Alanna said softly. "What else can I do? I mean it's very possible that what Ronat told us was a lie, and well… What George might know could help us."
"Good luck, Alanna," said Maude, putting a hand on Alanna's shoulder. "You are most assuredly going to need it."
Alanna nodded numbly. Maude was right. She would need all the help she could get. Trying to get George to talk to her when he didn't want to was like trying to drive nails into stone.
George stared at the cove, brooding. He was in his and Alanna's bedroom, out on the balcony. It provided one of the most picturesque views of the cove in the Swoop, unless from one of the towers.
Why did Ronat have to show up? Why? Wasn't everything going just fine? Wasn't life, for once, going his way? He had Alanna back, for a time at least. He had children, a place to live, a title, almost everything he had ever dreamed of. Now, though, he could hardly enjoy it.
His father was back. And he wasn't going to leave until better. And George knew that the old had so many illnesses that Ronat may always be here with a sickness or something or other. Alanna and her Code of Chivalry—not to mention her honor and instincts that every healer has—convinced him to let Ronat stay, though she said he didn't have to like it. Maude—silent and commanding Maude—made sure that Ronat would stay until he was well by playing off Alanna's honor and love for the Code of Chivalry, and therefore forcing George to resign.
George turned and walked back inside just as Alanna closed the door to the room. He marveled at how beautiful she looked in the beautiful silk dress she wore. She wore a white shift that clung to her breasts, and then dropped to the ground. Over that plain white shift was a violet silk dress. It started right under her breasts, and fell to the floor in a waterfall of violet silk washing over her body. An emerald broach clasped two pieces of an almost transparent gold material that covered the back and sides of her dress.
She was beautiful.
"What's wrong?" George asked the moment he saw her eyes.
Alanna was quiet for a while. Then she moved over to him, and took his hands. He knew something was very wrong. "I don't think your father is telling us the complete truth. No—I don't think what he told us is at all the truth."
George took a deep breath. "Alanna, don't scare me like that," he said, holding her lightly. "You had me thinkin' somethin' was truly wrong."
Alanna pulled away and looked at him. "Enough, George," she said, trying to be stern. George saw how much she hated doing this. "I know you aren't telling me the truth. If you tell me, we can get him out of here! Away from us! Tell me the truth George! I know you know what really happened! Tell me, dammit!"
George turned away from her. "You wouldn't understand," he said coldly.
"Try me," Alanna said, just as coldly. George was surprised to hear an edge of steel in her voice. He looked at her, eyes full of confusion. The violet eyes he met were hard, distant, and held no pity or emotion. Only a void.
She had changed in a matter of moments from the Alanna he loved to the King's Champion who was as ruthless as any bandit warlord. She would not let him go until he told her what she wanted to know. Personal, public—she got what she wanted. No matter what….
He was cornered.
Alanna hated herself. She had to do this. If he wouldn't talk to his wife, he'd have to talk to the Lioness. George was about to get some very nasty surprises. If this was what she had to do to get him to talk, then she would.
Either be cold and hard—or be loving and warm and hope he talked. Alanna needed straight answers—not his half answers.
"George, please don't make me do this the hard way," she told him, voice pleading, eyes softening. "I don't want to hurt you."
He turned away from her. "Forget it, Alanna. You won't get anything out of me. I refuse to give you anything."
"Why are you protecting him!" she yelled at him. Her temper was in check, but her emotions weren't. "You seem to hate him so, and now you protect him? Why?" she cried.
"You don't understand. You had the perfect childhood. Servants, wealth, parents," he said, not looking at her. "You mightn't have had a mother, and your father might not have cared, but he was there for him if you ever really needed him."
Alanna flinched. Her father? There for her? No, he never was. "He was never there for me. He shoved me aside, as if I didn't exist. And in his mind, no woman did," she snapped at him.
"Alanna," George said softly, turning around. His face held pain and his eyes looked sick.
Alanna couldn't help it. She backed away from him and ran out of the room.
George stared after her, a lost expression on his face. The sun was setting. Was it setting on him and Alanna? Or was it setting for another? Why couldn't things turn out the way George wanted them to?
Why?
Alanna watched the stars appear in the ink black sky. Everything seemed so perfect—but it wasn't.
"I should get back," Alanna murmured. She slid off the wall and fell to the ground. She dusted herself off and walked up to her bedroom.
She lit a candle so she could see, but it was also as not to wake George. Alanna was rather surprised to see a fire going. She put the candle down softly and looked for George.
He wasn't there.
George walked into the Hall of Healing. Maude lay unconscious on the floor in a heap. George knelt next to her and nodded when he felt her pulse beat strongly. He continued to walk over to where his "father" lay. The man laid on the bed, his throat sliced to ribbons.
Leaning against the wall was a man who looked to be six years younger than George. He was lithe, and young.
"Hello Rafus," George snarled.
"Hello George," Rafus said, smirking.
"What do you want?" George asked.
"Why, brother!" he said. "I'm shocked you even had to ask."
"Get out of here. Get away from me and away from Alanna!" George snarled, a dagger appearing in his hand.
"Why?" Rafus asked, cocking his head to one side.
"Because I said so!" George snapped.
"So, you want to fight?" Rafus asked, eyes set in an angry way.
"Let's," George murmured.
Alanna ran into the Hall of Healing, hearing screams of pain, and a woman's shriek.
In the Hall, Maude sat in a chair, drinking a glass of herb water to calm her. In the room two dead men lay. One was Ronat, the other a man she couldn't tell who he was.
George though, sat in another chair, calmly cleaning his dagger.
"George!" Alanna cried, flinging herself into his arms. He held her, shushing her when she began to cry.
Only Thom, who was by the door, knew who was who. Ronat was dead, and so was George. Only Rafus remained. Yet, Alanna seemed to be glad that "George" was alive. Or was it Rafus? Or was it George?
Who knows….