A/N Wow, talk about taking a while to update! I hope you all like this
chapter, cos it's the last we'll see of Alanna for a while. More about that
next chapter.
Anyway, R+R.
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Alanna was cold. Cold and tired, though she knew she had slept for a long time. She forced her eyes to open. The world was bleary at first, but slowly getting clearer. She lay on a big four-poster bed draped with silk curtains in pastel coloured silks. The curtains prevented her from being able to see into the rest of the room. Looking down, she saw she still wore the same clothes she had worn the day of the coronation. How long ago had it been? She thought back hard. Roger had called the sword, she knew that, but everything afterwards was a blur. She remembered ---- pain. Roger and herself had been crushed by the falling rubble. So this was the realm of the dead? No, wait. There was more. Chanting, yes. Roger had been chanting. And the Goddess. She was there. Roger had made a... a bubble? It had covered the gods and then ---- then she was here.
She sat up on the bed, wincing as stiff muscles cramped. Slowly, she pulled open the curtains, not knowing what to expect.
Beyond was a large, comfortable room, decorated in the same pastel silks as the bed. There was a fireplace, but no fire burned there. There were no windows and no doors. On the floor was soft carpet and around the walls were bookcases and comfortable looking chairs. Large crystal globs placed around the walls gave off a steady light. She rubbed her arms, trying to bring the warmth back into them while she thought about what to do next.
Just then a place in the wall opened like a door to reveal a smiling Roger.
"Ah, you're awake," said Roger as he strode across the room. The door closed behind him. "You've been asleep six years you know."
"That's not possible, and you know it," Alanna stated coldly.
"Maybe not possible in the mortal realm. But you are no longer in the mortal world Alanna. In this room, anything is possible." Roger watched her calmly.
"I doubt that," said Alanna.
"Would you like me to show you?" he asked. He didn't say anything more, he didn't click his fingers, or make any movements at all. But suddenly the room changed from the pastel silks to a cold, hard dungeon.
The floor was covered in grey flagstones, and she could hear the steady drip of water coming from somewhere in the gloom. Roger was gone.
There was a yell from a place to her left, and movement she could barely she due to the darkness, about 50m away. The somebody yelled again, and suddenly Alanna recognised the voice. She turned and ran towards it, panic filling her heart. Lying on the dungeon floor was Jon.
He was badly injured, a long gash running from his shoulder to his thigh, another across his face, a third down his arm. He wore his favourite blue tunic and a fine silver crown, both stained with blood.
Alanna knelt over him, tears in her eyes. His blue ones flickered open as he shifted in pain.
"Alanna?" he croaked.
"I'm here, Highness."
His eyes closed again as he struggled to breathe. "Why... Why are you here?"
"I'm sure I don't know." She paused. "What happened?"
"It was..." he took a deep breath. "It was Gary."
Alanna recoiled in shock. "Gary?" Jonathon took another shuddering breath. "No, wait. Hold still and I'll help you first." Alanna looked for that ball of fire inside her that had never failed her, the thing that could save her best friend. It was not there.
She mentally kicked herself. Of course! Roger had drained Jon when he cut off her finger, and her Gift along with his. She checked her hands. Yes, the finger was missing.
/Okay, so I can't use my Gift,/ she thought. /But I can still help him. Hurriedly she slipped off her mail and her shirt, and began to rip it into strips.
Gently she raised Jon's shirt and tunic, and hissed with sympathy. The wound was an ugly one. She bundled Jon's tunic into a pad and pressed it into his side, then tied it there with strips of her shirt. Next, she bound his arm, and turned her attention to his face.
There was very little she could do here. She wiped away some of the blood, but she suspected he had a fractured skull. She glanced back down at his torso, and swore. The blood had already soaked through the thick pad. She could feel the life slipping away from him.
"No, come on Jon. Hang on. Hang on!" Jon's only response was to groan in pain. Alanna felt a wetness on her cheek, and brushed it away angrily.
His breath was becoming rough, as though every breath took a great effort. And then they came no more.
This time Alanna didn't try and brush away the tears. Instead, she put her head down on his chest and wept. Sobs wracked her body. In her last few conscious hours, she had lost two of the people closest to her. Thom, her twin, her other half, and Jon, the first man she had loved, her best friend.
She didn't know how long she lay there, sobbing over her friend's body, but after a time she became aware of another presence beside her. She looked up into Roger's smiling face. She tried to think of something to say, but there were no words, so she remained silent.
He stooped down and put his hands under her arms, lifting her to her feet. "Alanna, Alanna, Alanna," he said softly, and leaning down, he kissed her mouth.
Alanna froze. She went completely stiff in his hold. After a moment, Roger drew away, delight on his face. He released her, and Alanna realized they were back in the silk room. Jon's body had vanished from sight.
"You might like to put some more clothes on," Roger said, moving over to a wardrobe. Alanna blushed, realising she wore only her mail leggings and breast band. He took out a beautiful gown of moon coloured silk, and held it out to her. She refused to take it, so he lay it on the bed before tuning to leave the way he'd come.
"What is this place?" Alanna asked him, the last thing she would say in a long time.
"This?" Roger laughed. "This is your own, private, Ordeal Chamber, quite similar to what young knights must enter, only this one, I control." And with that, he left.
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A/N: And that's that! Whatdaya think? I must really give the impression of hating Jon. This is the second fic I've killed him in! Oh well. The important thing is, I don't, I just like torturing Alanna.
Thanx2:
Blue forget-me-not: Yeah, she was kinda doped out on a sleepy spell. I hope this chapter was better in that respect.
Chibi Chibi: Not much to do? Chibi, I've got an epic planned here! (if I can find the time to write it!). And it will be semi A/R.
Wildmage101: It's not really plagiarism, cos I'm not saying it's mine. And you'll find out next chapter.
Princess Cora: OMG! Fan-art about my fan-fic! That's amazing! Thanks so much! Send it please! Oh, and sorry I've been slack with it. Lately I've been working on this one more, but I'll get around to it one of these days.
AmayaNightRain11: They weren't typed! And then I typed one, and decided that really should be chapter 3, not 2! But the 3rd should be up sooner than this one was.
Rogue kaiya: Sorta... And thanks!
Okay, that's it from me for now. Remember to review please, and I'll update before the end of next week. I hope.
~Googlepuss
REVIEW!
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Alanna was cold. Cold and tired, though she knew she had slept for a long time. She forced her eyes to open. The world was bleary at first, but slowly getting clearer. She lay on a big four-poster bed draped with silk curtains in pastel coloured silks. The curtains prevented her from being able to see into the rest of the room. Looking down, she saw she still wore the same clothes she had worn the day of the coronation. How long ago had it been? She thought back hard. Roger had called the sword, she knew that, but everything afterwards was a blur. She remembered ---- pain. Roger and herself had been crushed by the falling rubble. So this was the realm of the dead? No, wait. There was more. Chanting, yes. Roger had been chanting. And the Goddess. She was there. Roger had made a... a bubble? It had covered the gods and then ---- then she was here.
She sat up on the bed, wincing as stiff muscles cramped. Slowly, she pulled open the curtains, not knowing what to expect.
Beyond was a large, comfortable room, decorated in the same pastel silks as the bed. There was a fireplace, but no fire burned there. There were no windows and no doors. On the floor was soft carpet and around the walls were bookcases and comfortable looking chairs. Large crystal globs placed around the walls gave off a steady light. She rubbed her arms, trying to bring the warmth back into them while she thought about what to do next.
Just then a place in the wall opened like a door to reveal a smiling Roger.
"Ah, you're awake," said Roger as he strode across the room. The door closed behind him. "You've been asleep six years you know."
"That's not possible, and you know it," Alanna stated coldly.
"Maybe not possible in the mortal realm. But you are no longer in the mortal world Alanna. In this room, anything is possible." Roger watched her calmly.
"I doubt that," said Alanna.
"Would you like me to show you?" he asked. He didn't say anything more, he didn't click his fingers, or make any movements at all. But suddenly the room changed from the pastel silks to a cold, hard dungeon.
The floor was covered in grey flagstones, and she could hear the steady drip of water coming from somewhere in the gloom. Roger was gone.
There was a yell from a place to her left, and movement she could barely she due to the darkness, about 50m away. The somebody yelled again, and suddenly Alanna recognised the voice. She turned and ran towards it, panic filling her heart. Lying on the dungeon floor was Jon.
He was badly injured, a long gash running from his shoulder to his thigh, another across his face, a third down his arm. He wore his favourite blue tunic and a fine silver crown, both stained with blood.
Alanna knelt over him, tears in her eyes. His blue ones flickered open as he shifted in pain.
"Alanna?" he croaked.
"I'm here, Highness."
His eyes closed again as he struggled to breathe. "Why... Why are you here?"
"I'm sure I don't know." She paused. "What happened?"
"It was..." he took a deep breath. "It was Gary."
Alanna recoiled in shock. "Gary?" Jonathon took another shuddering breath. "No, wait. Hold still and I'll help you first." Alanna looked for that ball of fire inside her that had never failed her, the thing that could save her best friend. It was not there.
She mentally kicked herself. Of course! Roger had drained Jon when he cut off her finger, and her Gift along with his. She checked her hands. Yes, the finger was missing.
/Okay, so I can't use my Gift,/ she thought. /But I can still help him. Hurriedly she slipped off her mail and her shirt, and began to rip it into strips.
Gently she raised Jon's shirt and tunic, and hissed with sympathy. The wound was an ugly one. She bundled Jon's tunic into a pad and pressed it into his side, then tied it there with strips of her shirt. Next, she bound his arm, and turned her attention to his face.
There was very little she could do here. She wiped away some of the blood, but she suspected he had a fractured skull. She glanced back down at his torso, and swore. The blood had already soaked through the thick pad. She could feel the life slipping away from him.
"No, come on Jon. Hang on. Hang on!" Jon's only response was to groan in pain. Alanna felt a wetness on her cheek, and brushed it away angrily.
His breath was becoming rough, as though every breath took a great effort. And then they came no more.
This time Alanna didn't try and brush away the tears. Instead, she put her head down on his chest and wept. Sobs wracked her body. In her last few conscious hours, she had lost two of the people closest to her. Thom, her twin, her other half, and Jon, the first man she had loved, her best friend.
She didn't know how long she lay there, sobbing over her friend's body, but after a time she became aware of another presence beside her. She looked up into Roger's smiling face. She tried to think of something to say, but there were no words, so she remained silent.
He stooped down and put his hands under her arms, lifting her to her feet. "Alanna, Alanna, Alanna," he said softly, and leaning down, he kissed her mouth.
Alanna froze. She went completely stiff in his hold. After a moment, Roger drew away, delight on his face. He released her, and Alanna realized they were back in the silk room. Jon's body had vanished from sight.
"You might like to put some more clothes on," Roger said, moving over to a wardrobe. Alanna blushed, realising she wore only her mail leggings and breast band. He took out a beautiful gown of moon coloured silk, and held it out to her. She refused to take it, so he lay it on the bed before tuning to leave the way he'd come.
"What is this place?" Alanna asked him, the last thing she would say in a long time.
"This?" Roger laughed. "This is your own, private, Ordeal Chamber, quite similar to what young knights must enter, only this one, I control." And with that, he left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: And that's that! Whatdaya think? I must really give the impression of hating Jon. This is the second fic I've killed him in! Oh well. The important thing is, I don't, I just like torturing Alanna.
Thanx2:
Blue forget-me-not: Yeah, she was kinda doped out on a sleepy spell. I hope this chapter was better in that respect.
Chibi Chibi: Not much to do? Chibi, I've got an epic planned here! (if I can find the time to write it!). And it will be semi A/R.
Wildmage101: It's not really plagiarism, cos I'm not saying it's mine. And you'll find out next chapter.
Princess Cora: OMG! Fan-art about my fan-fic! That's amazing! Thanks so much! Send it please! Oh, and sorry I've been slack with it. Lately I've been working on this one more, but I'll get around to it one of these days.
AmayaNightRain11: They weren't typed! And then I typed one, and decided that really should be chapter 3, not 2! But the 3rd should be up sooner than this one was.
Rogue kaiya: Sorta... And thanks!
Okay, that's it from me for now. Remember to review please, and I'll update before the end of next week. I hope.
~Googlepuss
REVIEW!