By Atlantis Forester
Disclaimer: You know what belongs to Tamora Pierce-she lives in the vicinity of my school, by the by! ^_^ Nicole Kidman is also filming right in front of my school, too! Just thought I'd mention it. Oh, and Alanna's talk with Mistress Cooper in this chapter is only a slightly changed version of that part in ItHofG when Alanna asks Mistress Cooper to teach her to dress like a girl.
Summary: "He blows hot, then cold. [...] He says I mustn't lead the ladies on, and he accuses me of flirting with Gary and Raoul in the same breath!" Alanna, squire to Prince Jonathan and friend to George, the King of Thieves, finds herself in many romantic dilemmas-dilemmas she never asked for. These are parts that Tamora Pierce hints to in In the Hand of the Goddess about her first heroine's more intimate love life in much finer detail. "I don't want to fall in love. I just want to be a warrior maiden."
Chapter 2: King of Thieves
Alanna rode on Moonlight in the late evening, galloping gently towards Mistress Cooper's house. Once in the courtyard, she jumped off, took care of Moonlight, and walked into the house.
"Mistress Cooper!" she called, wiping her boots at the entrance. "It's me, Alanna."
Mistress Cooper materialized by the kitchen, smiling her welcome. "Hello, little one," she said pleasantly. "Why don't you come by the fire of the kitchen? It's a cold night out, today."
Nodding, Alanna wriggled out of her heavy cloak, pulled off her gloves and entered Mistress Cooper's immaculate kitchen. There was a cheery, crackling fire in the stove. Grateful, Alanna slid down at the table next to it, putting her cold hands closer while Mistress Cooper prepared the tea.
"How is your arm?" asked Mistress Cooper.
Alanna shrugged. "It's all right, now. A little stiff, but I wasn't as badly hurt as everyone thinks."
"Not in George's opinion," Mistress Cooper replied sternly.
Alanna flushed. "George worries too much," she said, recalling his concerned green-flecked eyes.
Once ready, Mistress Cooper sat beside Alanna. "What bring you here so late, dear?" she asked, busying herself with pouring the hot substance in cups. "I thought that the young Prince does not like you to go out for excursions by dark. How is he, nowadays?"
Alanna clutched her cup and scowled. "He... he blows hot, then cold. Sometimes I'm his best friend in the world. And sometimes he acts as if I'm poison. It doesn't make sense. He--" Alanna blushed. "He kissed me twice, this summer and today. I think he wants to do it again, except he doesn't. Sometimes he talks as if he doesn't like George, except I know that isn't true, because he comes into the city to see George when I'm occupied."
Mistress Cooper nodded.
"He expects a lot from a person!" Alanna burst, getting up to pace. "If I go to social events--and he makes me go--I have to have every hair in place. I have to have better manners than everyone else. I have to dance with all the ladies, as he does, even though no one else has to. I tell him I feel like a fool, and he tells me it's better to be a fool who's considerate than a fool who isn't." She remembered the happening of earlier that evening. "But if I really talk to a lady--or even to Gary or Raoul--for a bit, he gets angry! He says I mustn't lead the ladies on, and he accuses me of flirting with Gary and Raoul in the same breath!" Alanna sat back and gulped down her tea, surprised at how easily the words had tumbled out of her mouth.
"You seem quite angered with the Prince," observed Mistress Cooper.
Alanna turned her head slightly and took a deep breath. "Anyways... that's not why I came to see you."
Mistress Cooper raised a brow. "It's not?" she inquired mildly.
"No. Would you teach me how to dress like a girl?"
"How odd. Why such a request?"
Alanna made a face. "I don't know," she confessed. "Just... It's just that I see all the court ladies with their pretty things, and I've been thinking that I like pretty things, too."
If Mistress Cooper thought Alanna's sudden wish to look pretty had anything to do with George or Jonathan, she knew better than to say so. Instead, she agreed, and started that very evening by taking the girl's measurements.
~
When Alanna returned to the palace almost at dawn, she was met by an anxious Jonathan pacing in her rooms.
As soon as she set foot in the rooms, Jonathan shut the door behind her and gathered her forcefully in his arms. "Where were you?" he demanded frantically, lips on her coppery hair.
Alanna pulled herself away from him, the corners of her mouth turned down. "At Mistress Cooper's," she answered distantly.
Jon's bright blue eyes stared at her amethyst ones. "Alanna," he said softly, "are you angry with me? Did you leave because of me?"
Alanna shoved him, hard. "The world doesn't center around you!" she shouted.
Jonathan reached out to touch her shoulder, looking very lost. "Alanna," he whispered, "I'm sorry."
"You can't say sorry for everything," retorted Alanna. "I'm tired. I have to go to bed. Get out."
Wordlessly, Jonathan caressed her cheek before leaving. "Goodnight, Alanna."
Alanna watched the connecting door close behind him. Goodnight, Jon, she thought. She slid down to the floor. What is happening to us?
~
The next day, Alanna did not wake up till midday. Surprised, Alanna realized that Jonathan had let her sleep in.
Easing out from under her covers, Alanna was met by a blast of cold. Wincing, she pulled herself back under the covers, trying to gather enough courage to get up. Steeling herself, she dragged herself from her warm bed. Groaning, she hastily rebound her still-growing chest and threw on some clothes. To warm herself up a little more, Alanna did her morning exercises and built up the fire in the hearth.
Someone knocked on her door. "Sir Alan?" called a male voice.
Alanna opened her door to see a servant carrying a platter of steaming food. "The Prince sends his squire a meal," he said, handing her a tray.
Alanna thanked him generously, and, ravenous, tore into her food. As she ate, she couldn't help but notice that she had been served unusually tasty goods. A small glass of wine completed the ensemble. Raising a coppery brow, she picked up the slender glass containing the red, fragrant liquid, and examined it. I never drink alcohol, she thought, puzzled. At least, not often. Is he apologizing again? She took a sip. It's actually good! Alanna tipped the rest of the contents down her throat, washing it down with some water.
Feeling far more refreshed, Alanna descended and went to the palace guards. "Have you seen the Prince?" she asked. She was answered with negative replies.
Contemplating her options, the redhead decided to go down to the lower city to see George. Evidently, Jon was leaving her a free day to do what she liked.
Alanna dug out her cloak and pulled on her riding boots. Swinging the warm garment around her shoulders, she made her way to the stables. Moonlight was looking over the door of the stall, whickering softly. Alanna smiled and patted her while feeding her lumps of sugar.
After grooming Moonlight, Alanna saddled and bridled her before swinging up on her back. "Let's go, girl," she murmured softly in her mare's ear. She took to a trot until they were out of the palace gates, then switched to a canter. It didn't take long before she caught sight of the Dancing Dove. After leaving Moonlight in the small stables, she fought her way inside through crowds of laughing and dancing men who were drinking ale and swinging around pretty flower girls. She caught sight of Solom and waved him over.
Solom greeted her. "Why, hello, Alan! Wantin' to see George, I s'pose? You're early today. You usually be here in the late afternoon."
Alanna shrugged. "I have a free day."
"Young Johnny didn't come with you?"
"No," answered Alanna quickly. "Solom, where's George? I can't see him anywhere in this blasted commotion. He's not at his usual table."
"His Majesty retired early. He's up in his rooms."
"Thanks, Solom. I'll be going to see him, then."
Solom clapped Alanna's shoulder and left. "Make your way up quiet as can be," he warned softly. "His Majesty be p'haps a wee bit occupied."
Alanna frowned, puzzled, but heeded Solom's advice. She tread up the stairs as unobtrusively as possible, and used a trapdoor George had showed her to haul herself in his rooms. She then understood what Solom had meant.
George, knives in hands, was landing swift stabs on a gigantic opponent. It did not look like he saw that his adversary was about to pull out a small black dagger dripping with a certain substance. Alanna guessed that it was poison, and leapt into action. Drawing a throwing knife from her belt, she used a trick George had taught her. The long knife whistled in the air before embedding itself straight in the huge man's neck.
Startled, George stepped back as the man gurgled, blood spilling from his neck, and fell to the floor, dead. Before Alanna could move, George leaped at her and pulled her from under the trapdoor, a surgically keen blade caressing her neck. "Alanna!" he exclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here, lass?"
Alanna pulled herself from his grasp, massaging his neck. "Mithros, George. I helped you back there. I think that dagger was poisoned."
George burst out into hearty laughter. "Oh, this?" He pulled the black dagger from his challenger's stiff hand.
Alanna looked at him warily. "Yes, that one. How did you know? You're not going to laugh at me again, are you?"
George grinned and handed the thing to her. "Lass, if I didn't know he had a trick like this behind his back, I'd make a poor Rogue. And it's not poisoned."
Alanna took it and sniffed. It smelled of salty fish. The dripping liquid was clear--water. Suddenly feeling very foolish, she put it down. "Oh," was all she said.
Chuckling, George put his arms around her shoulders. "Well, thank you anyways. Come on, Alanna. Let's go somewhere else to talk. Speaking with a corpse at your feet isn't very pleasant. I'll be sendin' the boys in to clean up this mess. Meanwhile, how about we talk in a different room?"
They exited the scene of the fight, and George led her to his bedchambers. Alanna discarded her cloak and sat down on his enormous bed, looking around while her thief friend poured her a drink. George returned with two glasses and sat down beside her, handing her one of the two drinks. Gratefully, Alanna poured the cool liquid down her dry throat.
Sipping his wine, George observed her face quietly. "What's wrong, lass?" he asked, pushing back her fiery hair from her face tenderly.
Alanna squirmed under his steady gaze. "Nothing." She glanced at him, wondering if she should do what she was thinking of. "George... you were my first kiss, you know."
With the hand that had pushed away her hair, George ran a finger gently along the curve of her cheek. "Yes?" he murmured huskily.
"And..." Alanna became suddenly very aware of that softness in George's long-lashed hazel eyes. Licking her lips nervously, her eyes dropped to the sensual curve of his mouth. Her voice was cracked as she tried to continue talking. "And... and..."
"And?" George's face started to inch closer, his warm breath mingling with hers. His long arms started move to settle themselves around her slender waist and pull her closer.
"And..." Alanna chanted stubbornly, as if it was her mantra. "And, George..."
"And, George, what?" he whispered, his lips touching her neck.
"Uh, I... you... actually..." Alanna stopped. Their bodies were now dangerously close and pressed together, faces only millimeters apart. His eyes were entrancing, his breath intoxicating, and Alanna found her arms closing around his neck with their own will.
Before she could start stammering again, the Rogue put his mouth softly over hers.
A.N. *slaps forehead* ARGH. *very cross* How FLUFFY. *growl* I might as well call it "Kissing Alanna". Ugh, this is disgusting. This fic is going NOWHERE, I'm sure. Gross, gross, gross. This is so stupid. I don't know why I ever wrote this. *grumble* Anyhow, REVIEW. This chapter was out VERY fast, considering me. Don't expect anything soon.
