Chapter twenty-two--
The air would not come. Either his lungs refused the air, or the air refused his lungs. His thoughts were slippery, like smooth fish that he tried desperately to catch, but could not. Yet somehow he felt the need to arise, and he attempted to move. The movements of his limbs were a slow struggle, as if they were weighted down, or he was swimming in molasses.
Finally his heavy lids rose, obeying his will at a painfully slow pace. He thought that he heard a shout, but it merged with the intensely loud ringing inside his head, resounding throughout its interior.
"Vera?" he called weakly, or at least he thought he called. He couldn't hear his own voice amongst the ringing. "Vera!!!!!"
Vera scarcely dared to believe her ears. Gaping, she dried the silent tears that she had only recently shed, her previously shaky breath now still. "Elijah!!" she cried. "Are you well? No, of course you aren't well! What happened?"
He was alive! She joyously planted a kiss on his cheek before wiping the blood from his chin with her handkerchief. Hastily, Vera pressed the canteen to his lips. Elijah coughed once before drinking greedily.
"More," he croaked when the canteen was empty of water. "More water."
"There is a stream nearby," Vera told him, slipping her arms under his and attempting to drag him out of the clearing. With a grunt she hauled him nearly six feet before she gently eased him back onto the ground. "It's just a few feet away."
Elijah rose on unsteady feet, hobbling and lurching toward the slowly rolling water. When he reached the pebbles of the bank, his knees gave way, and he sunk into the cold waters. Willingly he let himself be submerged in the stream, the water carressing his skin and cleansing him as he drank.
'You are well now,' the water spirits whispered to him, or perhaps it was only his imagination. 'All is well whilst you are in our embrace.'
And in their embrace Elijah would've remained, but Vera grabbed hold of his tunic and pulled him to the surface. Sputtering, he breathed in the air.
"Is that enough water for you?" Vera asked, a sharp edge to her voice, though it came from worry and not anger. Elijah smiled wearily.
"Aye."
"Well, are you going to explain anything to me?" Vera demanded. "You were saying that someone was stealing your Gift."
"Not so much stealing," Elijah explained, "as borrowing. I feel it returning to me now, at least some of it, though very slowly."
"Who? Who could be powerful enough to steal your Gift?" Vera asked as they sat on the pebbly bank, shivering from the cold water and air.
"I'm not sure," said Elijah slowly, "but...somehow I know that they mean no ill will."
"How can you be so sure?" asked Vera.
"There's no way to be sure," he admitted, "but I feel it. Though...I have the strangest feeling that--"
"What?" Vera inquired when he stopped. Elijah shook his head to dismiss the thought, but Vera frowned. "Elijah, do not keep something from me!"
"It is not important," Elijah said quickly, then noticed her eyes, red from crying. "Did you really think me gone?"
"Yes," Vera whispered. "You...you..."
Elijah hugged her fiercely. "'Dearest, I would never leave you,'" he told her in her native tongue and lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. She shook her head, the tears flowing freely again.
"No," she insisted. "One day you will leave me; leave me and forget all about your promises."
"Why do you say so?" Elijah cried. "What have I done to make you think so little of my honor?"
"Not your honor!" Vera exclaimed. "Of course I don't doubt your honor! As I know you would never willingly or knowingly break your promises, yet...those people!! They will betray you! I don't trust them!"
"I have no choice but to trust them."
"And...you always disappear for such long moments of time...and without any warning or notice..."
"I can't help it," Elijah said grimly. "I must sometimes. And if anything were to happen to me, you would know," he reminded her, smoothing the tears from her face with his nimble fingers.
"Yet I can't help but worry," Vera said. "What with your...careless nature and all."
"Careless nature!! Vera, I may not think things through as...meticulously as you do, but that does not mean that I am careless!!"
"Really?" Vera raised an amused eyebrow. "What of that incident in Tusaine?"
"That was a special circumstance," Elijah said, flushing.
"And the wild goose chase all over Carthak?"
"A...misinformed guess," he said sullenly.
"And in Tortall, when we tracked the mountains for a year before realizing that the creature didn't exist?"
"Alright," he muttered. "I suppose I do have...careless tendancies."
"Of course you do, dear heart," Vera said, beginning to laugh. "I have always known that. And you are as impossibly stubborn as Bowen, and much too hot-tempered at times, and too cold and sarcastic at others."
"Have I no virtues??" Elijah cried indignantly.
"Ah, love, of course you do," Vera said, still smiling, and kissed him softly.
Elijah was relieved. For now, Vera did not know, and had probably already forgotten that he'd begun to speak of it. Yet he reminded himself that later he needed to travel again to Corus, to find the one who had borrowed his power.
The moment before he felt his Gift leave from him, flowing out of his body, he'd sensed another mind, another being, briefly touch his. Peculiarly, he'd felt the spirit in that brief instant of contact, and what he'd felt was puzzling, to say the least. The being had a similar mind, a similar essence, and a power similiar to his, which frightened him. There had been a strange sense of familiarity, of warmth, of...family?
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Alanna nervously descended down the glossy steps of the staircase. They had opened both doors for her entrance--both! That was an honor usually reserved only for visiting royalty! The herald had announced her as "The Lady Alanna of Trebond, healer of the Queen Lianne and savior of the royal family of Tortall."
That bold statement was her first shock. In fact, Alanna was so shocked that she'd forgotten that she was suppose to step forward at that announcement, and Gary had to drag her forward.
Now she gripped Gary's arm as if her life depended on it. Constantly she reminded herself to smile at the awaiting people and act ladylike. At least she could rest assured that she looked presentable enough. The king and queen had made it known that they were willingly to spare no expense on Alanna's outfitting for the ball. Her slippers were made from the finest, softest materials and by the best shoemakers in Tortall. Her gown was sewn by the queen's own seamstresses. She was waited on, bathed, dressed, and prepared by the queen's ladies-in-waiting.
Alanna's gown, Gary had repeatedly reassured her, suited her well, though personally she didn't see how. Gary had refused to let her look at herself in the mirror. The gown was of a green-blue color and the finest silk and velvet. It was trimmed and embroidered with swirls of silver at the edges. The skirt was huge, spanning so large an area that Alanna marveled that she was able to get through the door. The bodice was much too tight for her comfort, and much too low, but it was decorated with many tiny diamonds sewn into it. The sleeves were dyed lace, and these were also embroidered intricately. The dress cost enough to feed a hungry family for the rest of their lives, and their children's lives, too.
Then there was the jewelry. On a delicate silver chain, a diamond cut into the shape of a flower hung from her neck. There was a matching bracelet around her wrist. Both belonged to the queen, who had let her borrow them after Alanna had argued that she didn't want to keep them, which was the queen's original idea.
Alanna's flaming hair was curled. Curled! Alanna cried inwardly with dismay. They had CURLED her hair! The front half was pinned up with expensive combs; the other curls--very neat and tidy ones--were left to trail down her back. Strings of diamonds were hung across her forhead and weaved into carefully chosen curls.
And I don't even LIKE diamonds, Alanna though to herself as she glanced down at the bracelet. Yet she was wearing enough diamonds to buy a large area of land and build a comfortable home atop it.
At the bottom, Jon awaited her. With great flair, he took her arm and led her to where his parents sat on their thrones, ready to formally award her. Now she was even more nervous, but she couldn't grip Jon's arm as she had to Gary's--he WAS the prince.
Of course, Alanna had rehearsed her expected response many times, but suddenly she found her mind to be blank, and she couldn't remember what she was to say. Smiling weakly, she curtsied with any ounce of ladylike demeanor that she possesed, managed to whisper, "Your majesty," and lowered her eyes demurely.
"Lady Alanna," Jon's father, the king, began, "we are eternally in your debt. Tortall is in your debt, your sovereign in your debt, and the royal family is in your debt. You have saved the spirit of the country by healing our beloved queen, and my wife. As a king, I thank you, and as a man, I thank you twice."
"My leige," Alanna said, curtsying as low as she could, before carefully raising her eyes. "I thank you for your kind words."
"To show our gratitude," King Roald continued, "we present to you many treasures, though no treasures would be enough to repay you for your great deed; nor is any gift equal to the queen's life, which you so selflessly and courageously saved..."
He proceeded to make a long speech that Alanna had trouble following, but it wasn't as if she was truly making an effort to. Instead she tried to remember what she was supposed to say, and when she was supposed to say it. It wasn't until Jon nudged her that Alanna was aware that the moment had come.
The king had granted her the title of Countess of Trebond, the fief of Meekwater, as well as many, many chests of gold. Alanna gasped. She was to be Countess of Trebond? This was not how she had rehearsed it!
It must have been a surprise, or a last-minute addition. She felt an outrage burst within her. Trebond was not theirs to give away like that, not even to her. For in that moment Alanna suddenly remembered Thom. Trebond belonged to HIM, not her! He was supposed to be the master of Trebond as she was not meant to be the Countess of Trebond!! Did her father's will mean nothing?
Yet...it did solve a problem. This way Trebond would be well out of Stanmore's reach, and Alanna could keep Trebond safe until she did find Thom, which she fiercely swore to herself that she would set out to do as soon as this winter was passed. Then she could give Trebond to Thom.
"My liege, I accept your generous gifts," Alanna said with another curtsy and bow of her head. "I am honored."
"Then arise, Countess of Trebond and Meekwater," King Roald commanded. Alanna's jaw dropped. MEEKWATER?? She had been so shocked by the "countess" part that she'd overlooked the matter of Meekwater. The fief of Meekwater. Alanna had never even HEARD of Meekwater before!!
The heralds played a grand series of notes in honor of her new title as Alanna rose. Jon led her into the recently redecorated ballroom and swept her into a dance while she was too dazed to object. At first he didn't seem to notice, twirling her around.
"And I want to thank you," Jon told her as the speed of the waltz increased. "You were really brave, lady. My father forgot to mention how brave you were."
"What?" Alanna asked, realizing that Jon had just said something to her. "I'm sorry, highness. I was preoccupied. You were saying?"
Jon chuckled. "Still awed by the surprise gift? It was Sir Myles's idea. Do you like it? We thought that it would be fitting, or at least from what we know about you."
"Sir Myles?"
"He teaches the pages about history," Jon explained. "And he's a good man, though he tends to get drunk at times, he'll give you good advice if you ever need it."
"I'll be sure to remember that." Alanna relaxed slightly. His tone had been conversational; perhaps now she didn't have to be formal and treat him like the prince.
"So, how do you feel about being a Countess? I think that it has a nice ring to it: Countess Alanna of Trebond and Meekwater."
"Where exactly IS Meekwater?" Alanna asked curiously. "I've never heard of it."
"Neither had I," Jon said with a tight smile. "The land is a charming area of land with rolling hills and lovely forests. It's been a matter of dispute for many years now, but by granting you the land, the problem was solved. Though Lord Riel and Earl Tomahs quite dislike you now."
"Hmmm?" Alanna glanced up, cursing herself silently. She'd stopped listening to him again and had been paying attention to her steps. She couldn't quite remember the steps to this waltz.
"Are you well?" Jon's eyes filled with concern. Inwardly, Alanna sighed with relief at this chance.
"I feel...a bit tired. I need a bit of fresh air," Alanna told him. Nodding, Jon twirled around one final time as the dance ended and led them gracefully off toward the veranda.
"Let's go to the gardens?" he suggested, seeing her obvious discomfort with dancing. It amused him somewhat, and he had trouble hiding his smile.
The air was crisp and cool, the hint that winter was fast approaching. The night sky was clear and starry, the moon a thin crescent. Alanna instantly felt more at ease here.
"It's a beautiful night," Jon commented.
"Yes, highness," Alanna agreed. "It would be perfect if it were warmer." She shivered.
"Call me Jon," he insisted, "as you used to, lady."
"I won't, highness." Alanna declared. "Now, I'm sure there are many ladies in there who want you to dance with them, so thank you for your...eh...your...your..."
"Time?" Jon suggested, smiling.
"Yes. Thank you for your time, highness, but I'd really like to be alone right now, to...er, let this sink in," Alanna told him, easing her arm out of his grasp.
"Are you sure, lady?" Jon asked again.
"Yes, highness," Alanna stated firmly. "And if I may be so bold? I think it is your royal duty to tend to your subjects. Especially the lovely, delicate ones awaiting you in the ballroom." She hoped that he understood her meaning and would leave.
"And what of this lovely, delicate one here by my side?" Jon whispered, stroking her cheek gently. Gasping at his audacity, Alanna jerked away, stuttering.
"H-highness?"
Jon chuckled softly, and Alanna narrowed her eyes. Was he teasing her? Making a joke of her? She clenched her teeth at the thought.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, not you, lady," Jon assured her. "Just me."
"I don't understand," said Alanna, taking a step away from him. "How so, highness?"
"It's simple," Jon said, grabbing her arm to keep her from further backing away from him. "I've been so wrong about you, lady. You're brave, and strong, and kind."
"Stop," Alanna whispered, tugging at her hand. His grip on her arm strengthened.
"And even with the big ceremony, I haven't yet been able to personally thank you," Jon said softly. "Saving my mother meant a lot to me, Alanna."
She stopped trying to pull away from him, finding it useless. Then she realized that he had called her by name, and not "lady."
"It, it was nothing," Alanna stammered. "A-anyone could've done it."
"No, only you. Everyone tried, and only you could. You were so selfless and understanding. I don't think I've ever met a lady like you."
Alanna gasped again when he pulled her closer to him. "But...there are ladies so much more beautiful than me! I...highness...Jon, stop!"
"Why?" Jon asked, the corner of his lips curving upward. Alanna attempted to lunge backward when she saw that his mouth was aimed toward hers, but he slipped a strong arm around her and drew her to him, kissing her with fire and darkness that she lost herself in. His mouth took hers with powerful force and experienced certainty. Alanna squirmed at the complete possessiveness of the kiss, the utter ownership he placed on her by this very act.
When eventually he took his lips from hers, Alanna pushed him away with all the strength she had, stumbling away and tripping over her own feet. Jon followed her in confusion.
"Leave me be, Jon!" Alanna cried.
"Alanna--" Jon called.
"No!"
"What's wrong?" he asked wildly.
"All of it," Alanna replied. "All of it's wrong!"
Shaking her head, Alanna tried to push past him and return to the ballroom, but he grasped her elbow again, forcing her to face him. His eyes wandered over her face searchingly.
"I...I..." Alanna desperately searched her mind for an excuse. After all, why would anyone in their right mind refuse the prince? "Alex is already courting me!" she blurted out.
Jon let go of her in shock. Seizing this oppurtunity, Alanna brushed past him and re-entered the brightly lit room, blinking at the lights. The atmosphere that normally made her queasy was now a welcome familiarity. Immediately she sank into a nearby bench to puzzle over Jon.
Why? Why had he...?
Outside in the gardens, Jon cursed and sat dejectedly in a stone bench beside the path. He'd gone about it all wrong. He didn't know enough about Alanna, not enough to win her. Especially not enough to have known that one of his friends was already courting her, which should have been the first thing he checked before pursuing her.
"Highness?" a timid voice asked, light fingers touching his shoulder. Jon whirled around hopefully.
"I'm Lady Cythea," the lady introduced herself. Standing with her back to the lit ballroom, her features were cast in shadow. "Might I have a dance?"
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*Shakes her head in disgust* God, I hated the way I ended this chapter. And the kissing part was horribly, horribly...just...horrendous (sp?)...awful...tragically bad...pathetically written (I referred to a book that-i-won't-name to help me with writing that part because...my mind went suddenly blank and I couldn't decide how I should go about that particular kiss....since at this moment I'm lacking inspiration and had to squeeze that outta me)
*Sigh*
Anyway...reasons I haven't done a AN-thingy at the top of the page: no time, peoples. My dad was home for the whole week, watching me like a hawk, so no computer. I sneaking this online while I've got the chance... At least this chapter's longer than the last one.
Anyway, you didn't REALLY think I'd let Elijah die, didya?? HA! You gullible people!
I GOT MY LOTR!!!!!!! (the extended version) My parents don't know...hehe. I'm going to ask for the regular DVD for Christmas...or my birthday. I'M SO HAPPY!!!! MY LOTR!!! MY OWN, MY PRECIOUSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The air would not come. Either his lungs refused the air, or the air refused his lungs. His thoughts were slippery, like smooth fish that he tried desperately to catch, but could not. Yet somehow he felt the need to arise, and he attempted to move. The movements of his limbs were a slow struggle, as if they were weighted down, or he was swimming in molasses.
Finally his heavy lids rose, obeying his will at a painfully slow pace. He thought that he heard a shout, but it merged with the intensely loud ringing inside his head, resounding throughout its interior.
"Vera?" he called weakly, or at least he thought he called. He couldn't hear his own voice amongst the ringing. "Vera!!!!!"
Vera scarcely dared to believe her ears. Gaping, she dried the silent tears that she had only recently shed, her previously shaky breath now still. "Elijah!!" she cried. "Are you well? No, of course you aren't well! What happened?"
He was alive! She joyously planted a kiss on his cheek before wiping the blood from his chin with her handkerchief. Hastily, Vera pressed the canteen to his lips. Elijah coughed once before drinking greedily.
"More," he croaked when the canteen was empty of water. "More water."
"There is a stream nearby," Vera told him, slipping her arms under his and attempting to drag him out of the clearing. With a grunt she hauled him nearly six feet before she gently eased him back onto the ground. "It's just a few feet away."
Elijah rose on unsteady feet, hobbling and lurching toward the slowly rolling water. When he reached the pebbles of the bank, his knees gave way, and he sunk into the cold waters. Willingly he let himself be submerged in the stream, the water carressing his skin and cleansing him as he drank.
'You are well now,' the water spirits whispered to him, or perhaps it was only his imagination. 'All is well whilst you are in our embrace.'
And in their embrace Elijah would've remained, but Vera grabbed hold of his tunic and pulled him to the surface. Sputtering, he breathed in the air.
"Is that enough water for you?" Vera asked, a sharp edge to her voice, though it came from worry and not anger. Elijah smiled wearily.
"Aye."
"Well, are you going to explain anything to me?" Vera demanded. "You were saying that someone was stealing your Gift."
"Not so much stealing," Elijah explained, "as borrowing. I feel it returning to me now, at least some of it, though very slowly."
"Who? Who could be powerful enough to steal your Gift?" Vera asked as they sat on the pebbly bank, shivering from the cold water and air.
"I'm not sure," said Elijah slowly, "but...somehow I know that they mean no ill will."
"How can you be so sure?" asked Vera.
"There's no way to be sure," he admitted, "but I feel it. Though...I have the strangest feeling that--"
"What?" Vera inquired when he stopped. Elijah shook his head to dismiss the thought, but Vera frowned. "Elijah, do not keep something from me!"
"It is not important," Elijah said quickly, then noticed her eyes, red from crying. "Did you really think me gone?"
"Yes," Vera whispered. "You...you..."
Elijah hugged her fiercely. "'Dearest, I would never leave you,'" he told her in her native tongue and lightly kissed one eyelid and then the other. She shook her head, the tears flowing freely again.
"No," she insisted. "One day you will leave me; leave me and forget all about your promises."
"Why do you say so?" Elijah cried. "What have I done to make you think so little of my honor?"
"Not your honor!" Vera exclaimed. "Of course I don't doubt your honor! As I know you would never willingly or knowingly break your promises, yet...those people!! They will betray you! I don't trust them!"
"I have no choice but to trust them."
"And...you always disappear for such long moments of time...and without any warning or notice..."
"I can't help it," Elijah said grimly. "I must sometimes. And if anything were to happen to me, you would know," he reminded her, smoothing the tears from her face with his nimble fingers.
"Yet I can't help but worry," Vera said. "What with your...careless nature and all."
"Careless nature!! Vera, I may not think things through as...meticulously as you do, but that does not mean that I am careless!!"
"Really?" Vera raised an amused eyebrow. "What of that incident in Tusaine?"
"That was a special circumstance," Elijah said, flushing.
"And the wild goose chase all over Carthak?"
"A...misinformed guess," he said sullenly.
"And in Tortall, when we tracked the mountains for a year before realizing that the creature didn't exist?"
"Alright," he muttered. "I suppose I do have...careless tendancies."
"Of course you do, dear heart," Vera said, beginning to laugh. "I have always known that. And you are as impossibly stubborn as Bowen, and much too hot-tempered at times, and too cold and sarcastic at others."
"Have I no virtues??" Elijah cried indignantly.
"Ah, love, of course you do," Vera said, still smiling, and kissed him softly.
Elijah was relieved. For now, Vera did not know, and had probably already forgotten that he'd begun to speak of it. Yet he reminded himself that later he needed to travel again to Corus, to find the one who had borrowed his power.
The moment before he felt his Gift leave from him, flowing out of his body, he'd sensed another mind, another being, briefly touch his. Peculiarly, he'd felt the spirit in that brief instant of contact, and what he'd felt was puzzling, to say the least. The being had a similar mind, a similar essence, and a power similiar to his, which frightened him. There had been a strange sense of familiarity, of warmth, of...family?
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Alanna nervously descended down the glossy steps of the staircase. They had opened both doors for her entrance--both! That was an honor usually reserved only for visiting royalty! The herald had announced her as "The Lady Alanna of Trebond, healer of the Queen Lianne and savior of the royal family of Tortall."
That bold statement was her first shock. In fact, Alanna was so shocked that she'd forgotten that she was suppose to step forward at that announcement, and Gary had to drag her forward.
Now she gripped Gary's arm as if her life depended on it. Constantly she reminded herself to smile at the awaiting people and act ladylike. At least she could rest assured that she looked presentable enough. The king and queen had made it known that they were willingly to spare no expense on Alanna's outfitting for the ball. Her slippers were made from the finest, softest materials and by the best shoemakers in Tortall. Her gown was sewn by the queen's own seamstresses. She was waited on, bathed, dressed, and prepared by the queen's ladies-in-waiting.
Alanna's gown, Gary had repeatedly reassured her, suited her well, though personally she didn't see how. Gary had refused to let her look at herself in the mirror. The gown was of a green-blue color and the finest silk and velvet. It was trimmed and embroidered with swirls of silver at the edges. The skirt was huge, spanning so large an area that Alanna marveled that she was able to get through the door. The bodice was much too tight for her comfort, and much too low, but it was decorated with many tiny diamonds sewn into it. The sleeves were dyed lace, and these were also embroidered intricately. The dress cost enough to feed a hungry family for the rest of their lives, and their children's lives, too.
Then there was the jewelry. On a delicate silver chain, a diamond cut into the shape of a flower hung from her neck. There was a matching bracelet around her wrist. Both belonged to the queen, who had let her borrow them after Alanna had argued that she didn't want to keep them, which was the queen's original idea.
Alanna's flaming hair was curled. Curled! Alanna cried inwardly with dismay. They had CURLED her hair! The front half was pinned up with expensive combs; the other curls--very neat and tidy ones--were left to trail down her back. Strings of diamonds were hung across her forhead and weaved into carefully chosen curls.
And I don't even LIKE diamonds, Alanna though to herself as she glanced down at the bracelet. Yet she was wearing enough diamonds to buy a large area of land and build a comfortable home atop it.
At the bottom, Jon awaited her. With great flair, he took her arm and led her to where his parents sat on their thrones, ready to formally award her. Now she was even more nervous, but she couldn't grip Jon's arm as she had to Gary's--he WAS the prince.
Of course, Alanna had rehearsed her expected response many times, but suddenly she found her mind to be blank, and she couldn't remember what she was to say. Smiling weakly, she curtsied with any ounce of ladylike demeanor that she possesed, managed to whisper, "Your majesty," and lowered her eyes demurely.
"Lady Alanna," Jon's father, the king, began, "we are eternally in your debt. Tortall is in your debt, your sovereign in your debt, and the royal family is in your debt. You have saved the spirit of the country by healing our beloved queen, and my wife. As a king, I thank you, and as a man, I thank you twice."
"My leige," Alanna said, curtsying as low as she could, before carefully raising her eyes. "I thank you for your kind words."
"To show our gratitude," King Roald continued, "we present to you many treasures, though no treasures would be enough to repay you for your great deed; nor is any gift equal to the queen's life, which you so selflessly and courageously saved..."
He proceeded to make a long speech that Alanna had trouble following, but it wasn't as if she was truly making an effort to. Instead she tried to remember what she was supposed to say, and when she was supposed to say it. It wasn't until Jon nudged her that Alanna was aware that the moment had come.
The king had granted her the title of Countess of Trebond, the fief of Meekwater, as well as many, many chests of gold. Alanna gasped. She was to be Countess of Trebond? This was not how she had rehearsed it!
It must have been a surprise, or a last-minute addition. She felt an outrage burst within her. Trebond was not theirs to give away like that, not even to her. For in that moment Alanna suddenly remembered Thom. Trebond belonged to HIM, not her! He was supposed to be the master of Trebond as she was not meant to be the Countess of Trebond!! Did her father's will mean nothing?
Yet...it did solve a problem. This way Trebond would be well out of Stanmore's reach, and Alanna could keep Trebond safe until she did find Thom, which she fiercely swore to herself that she would set out to do as soon as this winter was passed. Then she could give Trebond to Thom.
"My liege, I accept your generous gifts," Alanna said with another curtsy and bow of her head. "I am honored."
"Then arise, Countess of Trebond and Meekwater," King Roald commanded. Alanna's jaw dropped. MEEKWATER?? She had been so shocked by the "countess" part that she'd overlooked the matter of Meekwater. The fief of Meekwater. Alanna had never even HEARD of Meekwater before!!
The heralds played a grand series of notes in honor of her new title as Alanna rose. Jon led her into the recently redecorated ballroom and swept her into a dance while she was too dazed to object. At first he didn't seem to notice, twirling her around.
"And I want to thank you," Jon told her as the speed of the waltz increased. "You were really brave, lady. My father forgot to mention how brave you were."
"What?" Alanna asked, realizing that Jon had just said something to her. "I'm sorry, highness. I was preoccupied. You were saying?"
Jon chuckled. "Still awed by the surprise gift? It was Sir Myles's idea. Do you like it? We thought that it would be fitting, or at least from what we know about you."
"Sir Myles?"
"He teaches the pages about history," Jon explained. "And he's a good man, though he tends to get drunk at times, he'll give you good advice if you ever need it."
"I'll be sure to remember that." Alanna relaxed slightly. His tone had been conversational; perhaps now she didn't have to be formal and treat him like the prince.
"So, how do you feel about being a Countess? I think that it has a nice ring to it: Countess Alanna of Trebond and Meekwater."
"Where exactly IS Meekwater?" Alanna asked curiously. "I've never heard of it."
"Neither had I," Jon said with a tight smile. "The land is a charming area of land with rolling hills and lovely forests. It's been a matter of dispute for many years now, but by granting you the land, the problem was solved. Though Lord Riel and Earl Tomahs quite dislike you now."
"Hmmm?" Alanna glanced up, cursing herself silently. She'd stopped listening to him again and had been paying attention to her steps. She couldn't quite remember the steps to this waltz.
"Are you well?" Jon's eyes filled with concern. Inwardly, Alanna sighed with relief at this chance.
"I feel...a bit tired. I need a bit of fresh air," Alanna told him. Nodding, Jon twirled around one final time as the dance ended and led them gracefully off toward the veranda.
"Let's go to the gardens?" he suggested, seeing her obvious discomfort with dancing. It amused him somewhat, and he had trouble hiding his smile.
The air was crisp and cool, the hint that winter was fast approaching. The night sky was clear and starry, the moon a thin crescent. Alanna instantly felt more at ease here.
"It's a beautiful night," Jon commented.
"Yes, highness," Alanna agreed. "It would be perfect if it were warmer." She shivered.
"Call me Jon," he insisted, "as you used to, lady."
"I won't, highness." Alanna declared. "Now, I'm sure there are many ladies in there who want you to dance with them, so thank you for your...eh...your...your..."
"Time?" Jon suggested, smiling.
"Yes. Thank you for your time, highness, but I'd really like to be alone right now, to...er, let this sink in," Alanna told him, easing her arm out of his grasp.
"Are you sure, lady?" Jon asked again.
"Yes, highness," Alanna stated firmly. "And if I may be so bold? I think it is your royal duty to tend to your subjects. Especially the lovely, delicate ones awaiting you in the ballroom." She hoped that he understood her meaning and would leave.
"And what of this lovely, delicate one here by my side?" Jon whispered, stroking her cheek gently. Gasping at his audacity, Alanna jerked away, stuttering.
"H-highness?"
Jon chuckled softly, and Alanna narrowed her eyes. Was he teasing her? Making a joke of her? She clenched her teeth at the thought.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, not you, lady," Jon assured her. "Just me."
"I don't understand," said Alanna, taking a step away from him. "How so, highness?"
"It's simple," Jon said, grabbing her arm to keep her from further backing away from him. "I've been so wrong about you, lady. You're brave, and strong, and kind."
"Stop," Alanna whispered, tugging at her hand. His grip on her arm strengthened.
"And even with the big ceremony, I haven't yet been able to personally thank you," Jon said softly. "Saving my mother meant a lot to me, Alanna."
She stopped trying to pull away from him, finding it useless. Then she realized that he had called her by name, and not "lady."
"It, it was nothing," Alanna stammered. "A-anyone could've done it."
"No, only you. Everyone tried, and only you could. You were so selfless and understanding. I don't think I've ever met a lady like you."
Alanna gasped again when he pulled her closer to him. "But...there are ladies so much more beautiful than me! I...highness...Jon, stop!"
"Why?" Jon asked, the corner of his lips curving upward. Alanna attempted to lunge backward when she saw that his mouth was aimed toward hers, but he slipped a strong arm around her and drew her to him, kissing her with fire and darkness that she lost herself in. His mouth took hers with powerful force and experienced certainty. Alanna squirmed at the complete possessiveness of the kiss, the utter ownership he placed on her by this very act.
When eventually he took his lips from hers, Alanna pushed him away with all the strength she had, stumbling away and tripping over her own feet. Jon followed her in confusion.
"Leave me be, Jon!" Alanna cried.
"Alanna--" Jon called.
"No!"
"What's wrong?" he asked wildly.
"All of it," Alanna replied. "All of it's wrong!"
Shaking her head, Alanna tried to push past him and return to the ballroom, but he grasped her elbow again, forcing her to face him. His eyes wandered over her face searchingly.
"I...I..." Alanna desperately searched her mind for an excuse. After all, why would anyone in their right mind refuse the prince? "Alex is already courting me!" she blurted out.
Jon let go of her in shock. Seizing this oppurtunity, Alanna brushed past him and re-entered the brightly lit room, blinking at the lights. The atmosphere that normally made her queasy was now a welcome familiarity. Immediately she sank into a nearby bench to puzzle over Jon.
Why? Why had he...?
Outside in the gardens, Jon cursed and sat dejectedly in a stone bench beside the path. He'd gone about it all wrong. He didn't know enough about Alanna, not enough to win her. Especially not enough to have known that one of his friends was already courting her, which should have been the first thing he checked before pursuing her.
"Highness?" a timid voice asked, light fingers touching his shoulder. Jon whirled around hopefully.
"I'm Lady Cythea," the lady introduced herself. Standing with her back to the lit ballroom, her features were cast in shadow. "Might I have a dance?"
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*Shakes her head in disgust* God, I hated the way I ended this chapter. And the kissing part was horribly, horribly...just...horrendous (sp?)...awful...tragically bad...pathetically written (I referred to a book that-i-won't-name to help me with writing that part because...my mind went suddenly blank and I couldn't decide how I should go about that particular kiss....since at this moment I'm lacking inspiration and had to squeeze that outta me)
*Sigh*
Anyway...reasons I haven't done a AN-thingy at the top of the page: no time, peoples. My dad was home for the whole week, watching me like a hawk, so no computer. I sneaking this online while I've got the chance... At least this chapter's longer than the last one.
Anyway, you didn't REALLY think I'd let Elijah die, didya?? HA! You gullible people!
I GOT MY LOTR!!!!!!! (the extended version) My parents don't know...hehe. I'm going to ask for the regular DVD for Christmas...or my birthday. I'M SO HAPPY!!!! MY LOTR!!! MY OWN, MY PRECIOUSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!