YES!!! LAPTOP IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter twenty-seven--
Duke Roger paced the floors of his antechamber restlessly. The more he considered the matter of Alanna of Trebond, and now Meekwater, the more restless and irritated he became.
He was startled that no one else saw the connection between Elijah the Ysandir-slayer and Countess Alanna. The physical similarities were shocking on their own; the similarities in their power was ever more alike and puzzling.
Of course, he first became aware of Elijah when he'd saved Jonathan's life, the first time he had halted his plans. How the boy had appeared out of thin air, no mere court trick on it's own, and then save his life was astounding. Yet he'd disappeared immediately after, without claiming any reward. How strange was that? Roger combed all of Tortall for the Mage afterwards and found him nowhere. It was as if he disappeared off the face of the earth. Roger had taken heart in the thought that perhaps he would never appear again, and resumed his plotting.
Still, there were moments when he would feel eyes upon him and turn to find no one there. Sometimes in the night he would feel the presence of another, one wielding great power, and yet see no being. He brushed it away as works of a stressed mind.
Then the Sorcerrer Elijah, the Burning Brightly One, had stopped a second attempt at Jon's life. When he had taken Jon into the Desert and filled his thoughts with curiosity, he was sure that the prince would meet his death in the Black City. Yet it seemed that another, a bright-haired great sorcerrer, had arrived there first to kill the Ysandir, or so the desert people claimed. Jon was surprisingly still asleep when Roger had gone to check. So did the Mage defeat Roger yet again.
In the war with Tusaine, again he had hoped to have Jon killed. Yet no matter what armies he sent that way, no matter how he led Jon's squire Geoffrey astray and sabatoged his horse, no matter how he placed Jon in the positions of highest danger, Jon lived. He escaped the ambushes and kidnap attempts. It was as if he was surrounded by an invisible shield. In this Roger had no proof that anyone was protecting him, but he was certain that Elijah had something to do with it.
Then the Ordeal of the Voice! Roger had no power over this, but he did his best to slay Jon in the journey. Jon had escaped the Hillmen that he set on his train, escaped unscathed. The sandstorms that he tried to bury him in had passed over without killing him. Someone had chased away his sandstorms, someone with great power. That was certainly Elijah, for he felt the other's Gift battling his own spells.
So Roger decided to cease his attacks on Jon for a while until it was safe. He would focus on the killing the queen first, instead, while Elijah protected Jon. Why the mage, who claimed no Tortallan name, protected the prince so well he could not fathom, but Roger hated him for it.
Countess Alanna. She had saved the queen. Her healing power must have surpassed even Elijah's to save the queen then. Not only that, but she had restored some of the queen's old health and youth! That, with an untrained Gift!
He had felt Alanna's Gift fighting his curse, and there was such a similarity to Elijah's Gift that he had stood frozen in shock, costing him to lose the battle. It was violet like her eyes and hot like fire but sparkling, stinging, too. To look at, they both had fire-red hair and unnatural violet eyes and near the same height. If there was no connection between the two, Roger would swallow his sorcerer's rod whole.
Five times! Five times he had been defeated! He would plan his sixth time unhastily now. Carefully, cautiously he would begin his next act. Roger could not afford to have one of them--and he was certain they were in league together, or perhaps Gift-bonded, sharing their powers--ruin him. He needed to guess the link between them and destroy it, and them, before he could proceed with his schemes to claim the throne as his own.
Alex stepped in, stealthily as a cat, and saw him gazing out the window, pondering these thoughts. Politely he stood by the door until the Duke noticed him, and is scowl increased.
"Alex," he began, "How do you stand?"
"Same as I always have," Alex responded. From his tone, no one would ever have been able to tell that he and his former knight-master ever had any problems with each other. His voice was polite and cordial, showing no dislike or giving Roger any reason to be reminded of their numerous past disagreements.
"Same as you always have," Roger repeated. Though he gave Alex the silence to say more, he knew that his former squire would reveal nothing without due prompting.
"Jonathan..."
"Is my prince and friend," Alex snapped.
Roger had to fight to keep the smile off his face. So indeed, Alex stood as he always had in matters regarding the prince of Tortall. He revealed this information without knowing it. What no one else knew besides Roger was how much Alex envied the prince. Though they were truly friends, there was one weak link in their friendship: the rivalry. Nothing irritated Alex more than his friend's attention and countless praise, being shunted aside so often when Jon was admired for his royal blood. He was jealous, and he often despised Jon in his jealousy. It was a chink that Roger dug into whenever he had the oppurtunity.
"So you are loyal to him?" Roger mused.
"Of course," replied Alex.
"So you would pledge your life to him?" Roger continued, ignoring him.
"If you called me here to question my allegiance to the Crown, then you are wasting my time," Alex said. "I pledged my life to protecting Jon the day I was knighted."
"Of course I didn't call you to question your loyalty," answered Roger. "I wished to discuss matters concerning Countess Alanna of Trebond and Meekwater, along with other things."
Alex immediately stiffened, though his face showed no response. "What about her?"
"Admirable young woman. Powerful healing Gift, doubtless, known now by all because she saved the queen. You do know her?"
"Yes," said Alex carefully.
"And on what terms are you with her?"
"That is none of your business," Alex said swiftly.
"So you admit that there is something between you?" Roger quirked an eyebrow. Alex flushed.
"You're prying into my personal affairs. What I do with my time is no matter to you."
"I was merely looking out for the well-being of my favorite squire," Roger responded, with all the air of a well-intentioned uncle.
"I am your squire no longer."
Roger chuckled. "Have a drink, my dear Alex." So saying, he poured rich red wine into a goblet and handed it to Alex, who took it cautiously and sipped it.
"Jon tells me that you're courting her. He's quite jealous, you know," Roger told him. "I wished to know if the rumors are true."
"Why would he be jealous?" Alex asked reasonably. Then he remembered his conversation with Jon by the stables, how he pressed Alex for the truth in his relationship with Alanna.
"He's quite taken with her," Roger said seriously. "Danced with only her at the ball. I think he was rather upset when she told him that you were already courting her."
"You wished to tell me this?"
"She's ensnared the heart of the prince as well as a young man who, well..."
"You think that she's using witchcraft, or brewing love potions?" Alex was torn between anger on Alanna's behalf and laughing at this absurd accusation. "Because otherwise we would never find her remotely interesting?"
"I wished to meet her," Roger said with a sigh.
"Then speak with her yourself. Or are you afraid that she'll 'ensnare' you as well?"
"No, of course not," Roger said, visibly irritated now. As if sensing his danger, Alex's smile dropped and his face was once again placid.
"Are we finished discussing Alanna now? Can we move on to discussing these 'other things' that you mentioned?"
"Did you know about her Gift before?"
"Of course," Alex said honestly. "But I didn't know that it was anywhere near that strong. I think she surprised everyone."
Roger looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he turned to give Alex a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Well, you know Jon. He won't quit when he wants something. I suggest you keep a wary eye out if you want to keep her. I doubt even she could resist the charms of a prince."
This had the effect that Roger desired. Alex flushed at the thought, jealousy and anger flitting across his face for a moment before disappearing into his normally calm expression.
"I have faith in both Jon and Alanna," he said curtly.
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"Oh, he's ADORABLE!" Meganne squealed upon the sight of the black cat riding on Alanna's shoulder as she entered their common room.
"He's a stray," Alanna murmured as she collapsed into a couch. Lara frowned at the mud on her nightgown.
"Are you going to keep him?" Meganne asked as she plucked the cat from Alanna and settled it on her lap, petting it softly. "Have you named him yet?"
"I thought I'd leave that to you," Alanna said with a yawn.
"Darkling? Black Baby? Cuddly? Oh, my precious darling, Meganne will take care of you. Can I have him?" she pleaded.
"Not if you name him 'Cuddly,'" Alanna said with a snort. She shivered. "I'm going to bathe now. Think of names while I'm at it?"
"Where have you been?" Lara demanded, sounding like a scolding mother. "We were worried sick about you!"
"Couldn't sleep," Alanna responded.
"We thought you'd be abducted, or...or..."
"Murdered? Raped? Vanished into thin air? Lost in the middle of nowhere, bound to a tree?" Alanna laughed and gave Lara a hug. "I'm fine. But thank you for worrying."
"Lucky? Or Precious? Yes, my precious baby..." Meganned cooed to the purring cat. Shaking her head--and sending water scattering over the floor--Alanna left for the bathroom.
The steam hit her first, and she inhaled the hot air greedily. The women's baths were toasty warm and completely empty. After stripping off her soaking nightwear, she eased herself into the soothing water and felt her tired muscles relax instantly. Her flesh was soothed on contact and she dozed briefly.
She'd worry about Roger later.
Alanna must've fallen asleep for a long time because she awoke to the sound of women wading into the far end. With them came bath attendants: one gave her a sponge and soap scented with jasmine. Alanna scrubbed herself and washed her tangled hair as the women talked of the previous night's banquet, and the coming one.
Her skin was now shriveled enough that she resembled a flesh-colored raisin. Standing, she caught the eye of an attendant, who handed her a large towel.
There was a bark of laughter from one of the women. Frowning, Alanna turned and seemed to see them for the first time. Four of them looked her way, the center one a petite, sneering blond with just the barest hint of red coloring around her right eye. Cythea.
"Countess," Cythea said mockingly. "What an HONOR to share the same baths as the WONDERFUL healer. Ladies, what words of praise should we give the countess?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Genevieve beside her, voice equally filled with sarcasm. "I don't think any words would befit such a person."
"Quite. She is beyond anything words can describe," Melarie said, looking to tall, fair blond to her left. "What would you say, princess?"
"I see you didn't learn anything from my last lesson," Alanna replied before the stranger could say anything, wrapping herself in the towel. "Perhaps I shall have to teach you again."
Unconsciously Cythea touched the shadow of a bruise on her eye.
"But I see you remember," Alanna said with a wry smile. "So I shall leave you for now. I'll see you at banquet, I suppose."
"And who will you go with?" Melarie asked.
"What is it to you? I dance with whom I will," Alanna answered in annoyance. Genevieve spread her hands.
"We simply wished to know if you'd tired of the prince yet, so that we could have our turn."
"Tired?" repeated Alanna. Cythea barked again.
"Everyone can see what a flirt you are. Leading the poor prince on... though I'm pleased to say that he found much comfort in me after you shattered his heart to bits..." Cythea said. "But I hear that Tirragen is back at court. I suppose you'll play with him again now that you're bored of the prince."
"Unlike you," Alanna spat, bristling at the inferences, "I don't find it fun or a sport to toy with people's emotions. Good day."
With a huff, she stalked out.
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Lara and Meganne were already in their new evening gowns when she arrived back at her room. Lara was carefully braiding Meganne's lovely hair while Meganne fastened the laces on Nelly's corset with her deft, nimble fingers.
"Oh, I've set aside your gown for you, dear," Nelly said, waving to the heap of red fabric on the couch. It was the same gown that Alanna had worn on her first night in Corus--with alterations, of course. It would not be seemly to appear in the same attire twice.
The rusty-red dress now had holes cut in pretty shapes to allow the petticoat to show through. There was also now gold lace at the elbows, to form sleeves, and the bodice was embroidered in a blood-red with flashes of gold. The neckline had also been altered, lowered to show her--nonexistant, Alanna thought glumly--cleavage.
Alanna shrugged into copper colored petticoats, refusing the corset. Nelly helped her into the gown and began to drag a comb through Alanna's wet hair, first wrapping the towel around her shoulder so as to not drip water all over the silk.
"So what's his name?" Alanna asked as she eyed the black cat rubbing himself against her leg.
"Lara and Meganne had an argument," Nelly said cheerfully. "Which do you prefer: 'Chocolate' or 'Angel?'"
"Neither," Alanna said instantly.
"Exactly," Nelly said with a laugh. "I say we name him after the prince, eh? What do you think, Jonny?" she asked the cat.
"No," Alanna said quickly. "I think--I rather prefer 'Faithful.'"
"Oh, no!" Meganne and Lara cried in unison.
"Faithful..." Nelly said thoughtfully. "I like it! Faithful, be true to your name," she said solemnly to the newly-dubbed creature.
Lara, having finished with Meganne's hair, appeared before Alanna with her small bottles of face paint. Alanna stifled a groan.
"Not tonight, please?" she pleaded. Lara gave her a stern look.
"You need at least a little," Lara said, "but I'll do my best to give you as little as possible." So saying, she rubbed a rosiness into Alanna's cheeks and over her eyes. She had dipped her fingers into the red lip paint when Alanna stopped her.
"That's enough," Alanna said. Shrugging, Lara turned to Nelly and applied it to her lips instead. Meganne approached Alanna with her jewelry box.
"Which one do you want to wear?" she asked, opening it. Alanna glanced over the slim contents and saw nothing that interested her. Most of it had belonged to her mother, who had rather liked large, heavy items.
"I'm already wearing jewelry," responded Alanna, touching the ember at her throat. Meganne made a face.
"Oh, THAT thing?"
Alanna shrugged. "I like it."
When Nelly had finished pulling Alanna's hair so tight that she saw white flashes, she was able to view her reflection in the mirror. For the first time, she felt a rush of anxiety. What would Alex think? Did she look pretty enough? Would her appearance please him?
She smoothed out the slight crinkles in her gown and patted her braided hair. It was twisted tightly in a manner that only Nelly could cause hair to behave. Strange buns and coils, braids and loops so decorated her head that she wasn't sure if it looked better before Nelly had touched it.
From her jewelry box, Alanna did choose a thin, wire circlet of gold. It was wrought to the shape of loops and swirls, extremely fine and very discreet. Just the sort of jewelry that she liked.
"A pity you never pierced your ears," Meganne said sincerely as she stored away Alanna's jewelry box. "I have just the perfect earrings to match that gown."
"You'll have to bind me hand and foot first," Alanna told her as she returned her attention to the mirror. She only knew that she didn't look as pretty as half the court ladies she knew. What if Alex didn't find her good enough? In the mirror, she saw Nelly and Lara behind her, though not dazzling beauties, still lovely in subtler ways. She was fair plainer in comparison, though the gown was the perfect color for her, and Lara's expertise with face paint had helped her quite a bit.
There was a polite knocking on the door to their common room. Meganne rushed to open it. Alanna heard her speak with a male before calling her name. Full of curiosity, Alanna entered the common room. From the doorway, Alex grinned at her. His smile made her warm inside.
"What are you doing here?"
"Taking you to banquet, of course," Alex said, as if it were an obvious fact. He held out his hand to her. "I want to be there early."
He was dressed in black and deep, royal blue that made his eyes seem to burn with an even brighter fire that usual. His black hair was as wet as hers, but combed neatly back. She took his hand hesitantly. Without further ado, Alex swept her out the door and bowed curteously to Meganne.
"I will see you at banquet, lady," he said politely before he shut the door and walked them swiftly down the hall.
"How was your meeting with Duke Roger?" she asked mildly.
"Boring and it ended on the usual sour note," Alex said, his face expressionless.
"You and Duke Roger don't get along?" Alanna asked in alarm.
"You know it would be unhonorable for me to say anything bad about him, right?"
"Yes," said slowly. "But--"
"Then you understand." Alex gave her a brilliant smile. "You look lovely," he told her seriously.
"Ha! You must be blind," Alanna told him. Alex sighed deeply.
"What must I do or say to convince you that you're not--"
"Plain?" Alanna finished. "There's nothing you can do. It's an unchangeable fact. One of the great Truths of Life."
"You are NOT plain," Alex insisted. "Would I be taking you to banquet if you were as plain as you think you are?"
Before Alanna could work out if this was an insult or not, he added, "Allow me to list your virtues: you walk with a poise unlike that of any other lady in court or Tortall."
"Yes, I know," Alanna said gloomily.
"You do?" Alex was surprised.
"Yes. I don't walk like a lady. It's driven many of the priestesses at the Convent near mad. I could never get my back straight enough, or my steps light enough."
"That's not what I meant!" Alex cried.
"I know," Alanna said with a small smile.
"You're intelligent. You're witty," Alex said.
"Well, I can't argue with that," Alanna said wryly, smiling wider now.
"So you're convinced now?"
"Hardly," said Alanna with a snort. "D'you want me to list my FLAWS?"
"Flaws? What flaws?"
"Alex!" Alanna cried. "Are you not aware that I am a DEEPLY flawed person?"
Catching her chin, he tilted her head back to gaze over her face.
"I see no flaws," he said quietly. Oh no, Alanna thought. Not physical contact. Suddenly, Alanna was aware of how close he was. She jerked her sideways and continued walking.
"What else?" Alanna asked softly.
"Well, you're the only woman who ever struck me," Alex said.
"Alex!!"
"And you're movements are fluid," he said quickly. "You laugh easily enough, and not too much, either. Your voice is like music to my ears."
"Seriously." Alanna raised both brows. "'Music?'"
"You--you..."
"Can't think of any more virtues?" Alanna taunted.
"You have more virtues!" Alex protested. "You're quick, and strong, and you don't let other people faze you. That's certainly a virtue. You're a good person."
"That may all be true," Alanna said doubtfully, "but it still does nothing about my plain looks."
"Are you asking me to write poetry?" Alex demanded, flustered now.
"Can you? I heard that you used to write poetry to Delia. What, am I not worthy of poetry?"
"I can be poetic," Alex muttered. "How about: your hair is like fire caught by the sun."
"Actually, that's nice, though not true in the slightest," Alanna said cheerfully, having fun at his distress.
"'The sun doth fall about her face, fairest being in time and space,'" Alex said, speaking as if reciting. "'Her smile doth shine, her eyes deep violet wine. Angel she is, goddess she is--'"
"No need to go bring down the gods' wrath on us," said Alanna, giving him a jab. "Where did you find that, anyway?"
Alex, rubbed his arm where she'd poked him, obviously upset at having been interrupted. "Actually, I wrote it," he confessed. "So you'd better like it."
"Continue."
"'Swift and fleet, gentle and sweet; kind and strong--'"
"And never wrong," finished Alanna with a laugh. "Hey, I like THAT!"
"That wasn't what I was going to say," Alex said under his breath.
"But aren't you going to add some badly-written line like: I wish she were mine? Right there with 'her smile doth shine, her eyes deep violet wine.' And then you'd say: I wish she were mine!" Alanna laughed again. "Really, 'deep violet wine.' Wine is red, O' wise sir."
When he didn't respond, Alanna glanced sideways and saw a peculiar expression painting his handsome features. A strangled cry of frustration came from his throat before he pulled her into a dark niche, the corridor torchlight blocked by the pillar. In a quick, fluid motion, Alex pressed her against the wall.
The warmth of his body spread to envelop her. Oh, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Alanna thought. Her heart was suddenly pounding in her ears, alive with delicious fear.
"Your skin is smooth and soft," he whispered against her neck. Alanna felt her body rise in goosebumps. He was now planting a trail of kisses up her throat. She swallowed, very dry-mouthed now.
"Is it really?" she whispered back.
"Mmm..." was his response. The vibration of his voice against her flesh made her shiver. "Your lips," he said, now having reached her jaw. He dragged his lips along the curve of it. "They're ripe and sweet as berries in summer."
So was his kiss. Alanna gasped when his lips found hers. Gods, she'd missed this.
"Convinced now?" Alex asked, voice hoarse, when he pulled his mouth away. She missed it instantly and nearly cried out.
"Maybe I need more persuading?" Alanna said playfully, hearing her own voice crack. Smiling, he lowered his head to kiss her warmly. Alanna responded equally, and drew her hands up his back to clutch his velvet tunic.
"As much as I'd love to spend all evening doing just this," Alex said softly at last, his warm breath making her skin tingle, "we've a banquet to attend."
Reluctantly, Alanna let him take her arm and lead her toward the banquet hall.
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Meep! ^-^ Sorry if you hate the fluff, but I liked it... and I really needed to write it, so live with it. *wistfully* Wish I coulda written more...NEwayz, I kept my promise and the chapter is nicely longer. ^_^ You know those chapters that just seem to flow out of you? Yeah, it was one of those. Really easy to write. *sighs* This is the result of a highly-hormonized teenager with no boyfriend of her own.
I've figured out how Alex is going to play into all of this. Yay! I suppose I can officially say that this will be an A/A (am I the absolute first to do that pairing or what?? Cuz I've never seen it done b'fore!) And he's not going to be evil... exactly. Sorry, not gonna spoil anything for ya. But yeah, I went back and reread the A/A fluff that I'd perviously written and I was like, "yeah, I totally love that guy." So, you guys get your wish. He and Alanna are an item. Officially. Don't ask me about the whole Alex-goes-evil thing, I prefer not to discuss it.
REVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter twenty-seven--
Duke Roger paced the floors of his antechamber restlessly. The more he considered the matter of Alanna of Trebond, and now Meekwater, the more restless and irritated he became.
He was startled that no one else saw the connection between Elijah the Ysandir-slayer and Countess Alanna. The physical similarities were shocking on their own; the similarities in their power was ever more alike and puzzling.
Of course, he first became aware of Elijah when he'd saved Jonathan's life, the first time he had halted his plans. How the boy had appeared out of thin air, no mere court trick on it's own, and then save his life was astounding. Yet he'd disappeared immediately after, without claiming any reward. How strange was that? Roger combed all of Tortall for the Mage afterwards and found him nowhere. It was as if he disappeared off the face of the earth. Roger had taken heart in the thought that perhaps he would never appear again, and resumed his plotting.
Still, there were moments when he would feel eyes upon him and turn to find no one there. Sometimes in the night he would feel the presence of another, one wielding great power, and yet see no being. He brushed it away as works of a stressed mind.
Then the Sorcerrer Elijah, the Burning Brightly One, had stopped a second attempt at Jon's life. When he had taken Jon into the Desert and filled his thoughts with curiosity, he was sure that the prince would meet his death in the Black City. Yet it seemed that another, a bright-haired great sorcerrer, had arrived there first to kill the Ysandir, or so the desert people claimed. Jon was surprisingly still asleep when Roger had gone to check. So did the Mage defeat Roger yet again.
In the war with Tusaine, again he had hoped to have Jon killed. Yet no matter what armies he sent that way, no matter how he led Jon's squire Geoffrey astray and sabatoged his horse, no matter how he placed Jon in the positions of highest danger, Jon lived. He escaped the ambushes and kidnap attempts. It was as if he was surrounded by an invisible shield. In this Roger had no proof that anyone was protecting him, but he was certain that Elijah had something to do with it.
Then the Ordeal of the Voice! Roger had no power over this, but he did his best to slay Jon in the journey. Jon had escaped the Hillmen that he set on his train, escaped unscathed. The sandstorms that he tried to bury him in had passed over without killing him. Someone had chased away his sandstorms, someone with great power. That was certainly Elijah, for he felt the other's Gift battling his own spells.
So Roger decided to cease his attacks on Jon for a while until it was safe. He would focus on the killing the queen first, instead, while Elijah protected Jon. Why the mage, who claimed no Tortallan name, protected the prince so well he could not fathom, but Roger hated him for it.
Countess Alanna. She had saved the queen. Her healing power must have surpassed even Elijah's to save the queen then. Not only that, but she had restored some of the queen's old health and youth! That, with an untrained Gift!
He had felt Alanna's Gift fighting his curse, and there was such a similarity to Elijah's Gift that he had stood frozen in shock, costing him to lose the battle. It was violet like her eyes and hot like fire but sparkling, stinging, too. To look at, they both had fire-red hair and unnatural violet eyes and near the same height. If there was no connection between the two, Roger would swallow his sorcerer's rod whole.
Five times! Five times he had been defeated! He would plan his sixth time unhastily now. Carefully, cautiously he would begin his next act. Roger could not afford to have one of them--and he was certain they were in league together, or perhaps Gift-bonded, sharing their powers--ruin him. He needed to guess the link between them and destroy it, and them, before he could proceed with his schemes to claim the throne as his own.
Alex stepped in, stealthily as a cat, and saw him gazing out the window, pondering these thoughts. Politely he stood by the door until the Duke noticed him, and is scowl increased.
"Alex," he began, "How do you stand?"
"Same as I always have," Alex responded. From his tone, no one would ever have been able to tell that he and his former knight-master ever had any problems with each other. His voice was polite and cordial, showing no dislike or giving Roger any reason to be reminded of their numerous past disagreements.
"Same as you always have," Roger repeated. Though he gave Alex the silence to say more, he knew that his former squire would reveal nothing without due prompting.
"Jonathan..."
"Is my prince and friend," Alex snapped.
Roger had to fight to keep the smile off his face. So indeed, Alex stood as he always had in matters regarding the prince of Tortall. He revealed this information without knowing it. What no one else knew besides Roger was how much Alex envied the prince. Though they were truly friends, there was one weak link in their friendship: the rivalry. Nothing irritated Alex more than his friend's attention and countless praise, being shunted aside so often when Jon was admired for his royal blood. He was jealous, and he often despised Jon in his jealousy. It was a chink that Roger dug into whenever he had the oppurtunity.
"So you are loyal to him?" Roger mused.
"Of course," replied Alex.
"So you would pledge your life to him?" Roger continued, ignoring him.
"If you called me here to question my allegiance to the Crown, then you are wasting my time," Alex said. "I pledged my life to protecting Jon the day I was knighted."
"Of course I didn't call you to question your loyalty," answered Roger. "I wished to discuss matters concerning Countess Alanna of Trebond and Meekwater, along with other things."
Alex immediately stiffened, though his face showed no response. "What about her?"
"Admirable young woman. Powerful healing Gift, doubtless, known now by all because she saved the queen. You do know her?"
"Yes," said Alex carefully.
"And on what terms are you with her?"
"That is none of your business," Alex said swiftly.
"So you admit that there is something between you?" Roger quirked an eyebrow. Alex flushed.
"You're prying into my personal affairs. What I do with my time is no matter to you."
"I was merely looking out for the well-being of my favorite squire," Roger responded, with all the air of a well-intentioned uncle.
"I am your squire no longer."
Roger chuckled. "Have a drink, my dear Alex." So saying, he poured rich red wine into a goblet and handed it to Alex, who took it cautiously and sipped it.
"Jon tells me that you're courting her. He's quite jealous, you know," Roger told him. "I wished to know if the rumors are true."
"Why would he be jealous?" Alex asked reasonably. Then he remembered his conversation with Jon by the stables, how he pressed Alex for the truth in his relationship with Alanna.
"He's quite taken with her," Roger said seriously. "Danced with only her at the ball. I think he was rather upset when she told him that you were already courting her."
"You wished to tell me this?"
"She's ensnared the heart of the prince as well as a young man who, well..."
"You think that she's using witchcraft, or brewing love potions?" Alex was torn between anger on Alanna's behalf and laughing at this absurd accusation. "Because otherwise we would never find her remotely interesting?"
"I wished to meet her," Roger said with a sigh.
"Then speak with her yourself. Or are you afraid that she'll 'ensnare' you as well?"
"No, of course not," Roger said, visibly irritated now. As if sensing his danger, Alex's smile dropped and his face was once again placid.
"Are we finished discussing Alanna now? Can we move on to discussing these 'other things' that you mentioned?"
"Did you know about her Gift before?"
"Of course," Alex said honestly. "But I didn't know that it was anywhere near that strong. I think she surprised everyone."
Roger looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he turned to give Alex a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Well, you know Jon. He won't quit when he wants something. I suggest you keep a wary eye out if you want to keep her. I doubt even she could resist the charms of a prince."
This had the effect that Roger desired. Alex flushed at the thought, jealousy and anger flitting across his face for a moment before disappearing into his normally calm expression.
"I have faith in both Jon and Alanna," he said curtly.
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"Oh, he's ADORABLE!" Meganne squealed upon the sight of the black cat riding on Alanna's shoulder as she entered their common room.
"He's a stray," Alanna murmured as she collapsed into a couch. Lara frowned at the mud on her nightgown.
"Are you going to keep him?" Meganne asked as she plucked the cat from Alanna and settled it on her lap, petting it softly. "Have you named him yet?"
"I thought I'd leave that to you," Alanna said with a yawn.
"Darkling? Black Baby? Cuddly? Oh, my precious darling, Meganne will take care of you. Can I have him?" she pleaded.
"Not if you name him 'Cuddly,'" Alanna said with a snort. She shivered. "I'm going to bathe now. Think of names while I'm at it?"
"Where have you been?" Lara demanded, sounding like a scolding mother. "We were worried sick about you!"
"Couldn't sleep," Alanna responded.
"We thought you'd be abducted, or...or..."
"Murdered? Raped? Vanished into thin air? Lost in the middle of nowhere, bound to a tree?" Alanna laughed and gave Lara a hug. "I'm fine. But thank you for worrying."
"Lucky? Or Precious? Yes, my precious baby..." Meganned cooed to the purring cat. Shaking her head--and sending water scattering over the floor--Alanna left for the bathroom.
The steam hit her first, and she inhaled the hot air greedily. The women's baths were toasty warm and completely empty. After stripping off her soaking nightwear, she eased herself into the soothing water and felt her tired muscles relax instantly. Her flesh was soothed on contact and she dozed briefly.
She'd worry about Roger later.
Alanna must've fallen asleep for a long time because she awoke to the sound of women wading into the far end. With them came bath attendants: one gave her a sponge and soap scented with jasmine. Alanna scrubbed herself and washed her tangled hair as the women talked of the previous night's banquet, and the coming one.
Her skin was now shriveled enough that she resembled a flesh-colored raisin. Standing, she caught the eye of an attendant, who handed her a large towel.
There was a bark of laughter from one of the women. Frowning, Alanna turned and seemed to see them for the first time. Four of them looked her way, the center one a petite, sneering blond with just the barest hint of red coloring around her right eye. Cythea.
"Countess," Cythea said mockingly. "What an HONOR to share the same baths as the WONDERFUL healer. Ladies, what words of praise should we give the countess?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Genevieve beside her, voice equally filled with sarcasm. "I don't think any words would befit such a person."
"Quite. She is beyond anything words can describe," Melarie said, looking to tall, fair blond to her left. "What would you say, princess?"
"I see you didn't learn anything from my last lesson," Alanna replied before the stranger could say anything, wrapping herself in the towel. "Perhaps I shall have to teach you again."
Unconsciously Cythea touched the shadow of a bruise on her eye.
"But I see you remember," Alanna said with a wry smile. "So I shall leave you for now. I'll see you at banquet, I suppose."
"And who will you go with?" Melarie asked.
"What is it to you? I dance with whom I will," Alanna answered in annoyance. Genevieve spread her hands.
"We simply wished to know if you'd tired of the prince yet, so that we could have our turn."
"Tired?" repeated Alanna. Cythea barked again.
"Everyone can see what a flirt you are. Leading the poor prince on... though I'm pleased to say that he found much comfort in me after you shattered his heart to bits..." Cythea said. "But I hear that Tirragen is back at court. I suppose you'll play with him again now that you're bored of the prince."
"Unlike you," Alanna spat, bristling at the inferences, "I don't find it fun or a sport to toy with people's emotions. Good day."
With a huff, she stalked out.
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Lara and Meganne were already in their new evening gowns when she arrived back at her room. Lara was carefully braiding Meganne's lovely hair while Meganne fastened the laces on Nelly's corset with her deft, nimble fingers.
"Oh, I've set aside your gown for you, dear," Nelly said, waving to the heap of red fabric on the couch. It was the same gown that Alanna had worn on her first night in Corus--with alterations, of course. It would not be seemly to appear in the same attire twice.
The rusty-red dress now had holes cut in pretty shapes to allow the petticoat to show through. There was also now gold lace at the elbows, to form sleeves, and the bodice was embroidered in a blood-red with flashes of gold. The neckline had also been altered, lowered to show her--nonexistant, Alanna thought glumly--cleavage.
Alanna shrugged into copper colored petticoats, refusing the corset. Nelly helped her into the gown and began to drag a comb through Alanna's wet hair, first wrapping the towel around her shoulder so as to not drip water all over the silk.
"So what's his name?" Alanna asked as she eyed the black cat rubbing himself against her leg.
"Lara and Meganne had an argument," Nelly said cheerfully. "Which do you prefer: 'Chocolate' or 'Angel?'"
"Neither," Alanna said instantly.
"Exactly," Nelly said with a laugh. "I say we name him after the prince, eh? What do you think, Jonny?" she asked the cat.
"No," Alanna said quickly. "I think--I rather prefer 'Faithful.'"
"Oh, no!" Meganne and Lara cried in unison.
"Faithful..." Nelly said thoughtfully. "I like it! Faithful, be true to your name," she said solemnly to the newly-dubbed creature.
Lara, having finished with Meganne's hair, appeared before Alanna with her small bottles of face paint. Alanna stifled a groan.
"Not tonight, please?" she pleaded. Lara gave her a stern look.
"You need at least a little," Lara said, "but I'll do my best to give you as little as possible." So saying, she rubbed a rosiness into Alanna's cheeks and over her eyes. She had dipped her fingers into the red lip paint when Alanna stopped her.
"That's enough," Alanna said. Shrugging, Lara turned to Nelly and applied it to her lips instead. Meganne approached Alanna with her jewelry box.
"Which one do you want to wear?" she asked, opening it. Alanna glanced over the slim contents and saw nothing that interested her. Most of it had belonged to her mother, who had rather liked large, heavy items.
"I'm already wearing jewelry," responded Alanna, touching the ember at her throat. Meganne made a face.
"Oh, THAT thing?"
Alanna shrugged. "I like it."
When Nelly had finished pulling Alanna's hair so tight that she saw white flashes, she was able to view her reflection in the mirror. For the first time, she felt a rush of anxiety. What would Alex think? Did she look pretty enough? Would her appearance please him?
She smoothed out the slight crinkles in her gown and patted her braided hair. It was twisted tightly in a manner that only Nelly could cause hair to behave. Strange buns and coils, braids and loops so decorated her head that she wasn't sure if it looked better before Nelly had touched it.
From her jewelry box, Alanna did choose a thin, wire circlet of gold. It was wrought to the shape of loops and swirls, extremely fine and very discreet. Just the sort of jewelry that she liked.
"A pity you never pierced your ears," Meganne said sincerely as she stored away Alanna's jewelry box. "I have just the perfect earrings to match that gown."
"You'll have to bind me hand and foot first," Alanna told her as she returned her attention to the mirror. She only knew that she didn't look as pretty as half the court ladies she knew. What if Alex didn't find her good enough? In the mirror, she saw Nelly and Lara behind her, though not dazzling beauties, still lovely in subtler ways. She was fair plainer in comparison, though the gown was the perfect color for her, and Lara's expertise with face paint had helped her quite a bit.
There was a polite knocking on the door to their common room. Meganne rushed to open it. Alanna heard her speak with a male before calling her name. Full of curiosity, Alanna entered the common room. From the doorway, Alex grinned at her. His smile made her warm inside.
"What are you doing here?"
"Taking you to banquet, of course," Alex said, as if it were an obvious fact. He held out his hand to her. "I want to be there early."
He was dressed in black and deep, royal blue that made his eyes seem to burn with an even brighter fire that usual. His black hair was as wet as hers, but combed neatly back. She took his hand hesitantly. Without further ado, Alex swept her out the door and bowed curteously to Meganne.
"I will see you at banquet, lady," he said politely before he shut the door and walked them swiftly down the hall.
"How was your meeting with Duke Roger?" she asked mildly.
"Boring and it ended on the usual sour note," Alex said, his face expressionless.
"You and Duke Roger don't get along?" Alanna asked in alarm.
"You know it would be unhonorable for me to say anything bad about him, right?"
"Yes," said slowly. "But--"
"Then you understand." Alex gave her a brilliant smile. "You look lovely," he told her seriously.
"Ha! You must be blind," Alanna told him. Alex sighed deeply.
"What must I do or say to convince you that you're not--"
"Plain?" Alanna finished. "There's nothing you can do. It's an unchangeable fact. One of the great Truths of Life."
"You are NOT plain," Alex insisted. "Would I be taking you to banquet if you were as plain as you think you are?"
Before Alanna could work out if this was an insult or not, he added, "Allow me to list your virtues: you walk with a poise unlike that of any other lady in court or Tortall."
"Yes, I know," Alanna said gloomily.
"You do?" Alex was surprised.
"Yes. I don't walk like a lady. It's driven many of the priestesses at the Convent near mad. I could never get my back straight enough, or my steps light enough."
"That's not what I meant!" Alex cried.
"I know," Alanna said with a small smile.
"You're intelligent. You're witty," Alex said.
"Well, I can't argue with that," Alanna said wryly, smiling wider now.
"So you're convinced now?"
"Hardly," said Alanna with a snort. "D'you want me to list my FLAWS?"
"Flaws? What flaws?"
"Alex!" Alanna cried. "Are you not aware that I am a DEEPLY flawed person?"
Catching her chin, he tilted her head back to gaze over her face.
"I see no flaws," he said quietly. Oh no, Alanna thought. Not physical contact. Suddenly, Alanna was aware of how close he was. She jerked her sideways and continued walking.
"What else?" Alanna asked softly.
"Well, you're the only woman who ever struck me," Alex said.
"Alex!!"
"And you're movements are fluid," he said quickly. "You laugh easily enough, and not too much, either. Your voice is like music to my ears."
"Seriously." Alanna raised both brows. "'Music?'"
"You--you..."
"Can't think of any more virtues?" Alanna taunted.
"You have more virtues!" Alex protested. "You're quick, and strong, and you don't let other people faze you. That's certainly a virtue. You're a good person."
"That may all be true," Alanna said doubtfully, "but it still does nothing about my plain looks."
"Are you asking me to write poetry?" Alex demanded, flustered now.
"Can you? I heard that you used to write poetry to Delia. What, am I not worthy of poetry?"
"I can be poetic," Alex muttered. "How about: your hair is like fire caught by the sun."
"Actually, that's nice, though not true in the slightest," Alanna said cheerfully, having fun at his distress.
"'The sun doth fall about her face, fairest being in time and space,'" Alex said, speaking as if reciting. "'Her smile doth shine, her eyes deep violet wine. Angel she is, goddess she is--'"
"No need to go bring down the gods' wrath on us," said Alanna, giving him a jab. "Where did you find that, anyway?"
Alex, rubbed his arm where she'd poked him, obviously upset at having been interrupted. "Actually, I wrote it," he confessed. "So you'd better like it."
"Continue."
"'Swift and fleet, gentle and sweet; kind and strong--'"
"And never wrong," finished Alanna with a laugh. "Hey, I like THAT!"
"That wasn't what I was going to say," Alex said under his breath.
"But aren't you going to add some badly-written line like: I wish she were mine? Right there with 'her smile doth shine, her eyes deep violet wine.' And then you'd say: I wish she were mine!" Alanna laughed again. "Really, 'deep violet wine.' Wine is red, O' wise sir."
When he didn't respond, Alanna glanced sideways and saw a peculiar expression painting his handsome features. A strangled cry of frustration came from his throat before he pulled her into a dark niche, the corridor torchlight blocked by the pillar. In a quick, fluid motion, Alex pressed her against the wall.
The warmth of his body spread to envelop her. Oh, Goddess, Goddess, Goddess, Alanna thought. Her heart was suddenly pounding in her ears, alive with delicious fear.
"Your skin is smooth and soft," he whispered against her neck. Alanna felt her body rise in goosebumps. He was now planting a trail of kisses up her throat. She swallowed, very dry-mouthed now.
"Is it really?" she whispered back.
"Mmm..." was his response. The vibration of his voice against her flesh made her shiver. "Your lips," he said, now having reached her jaw. He dragged his lips along the curve of it. "They're ripe and sweet as berries in summer."
So was his kiss. Alanna gasped when his lips found hers. Gods, she'd missed this.
"Convinced now?" Alex asked, voice hoarse, when he pulled his mouth away. She missed it instantly and nearly cried out.
"Maybe I need more persuading?" Alanna said playfully, hearing her own voice crack. Smiling, he lowered his head to kiss her warmly. Alanna responded equally, and drew her hands up his back to clutch his velvet tunic.
"As much as I'd love to spend all evening doing just this," Alex said softly at last, his warm breath making her skin tingle, "we've a banquet to attend."
Reluctantly, Alanna let him take her arm and lead her toward the banquet hall.
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Meep! ^-^ Sorry if you hate the fluff, but I liked it... and I really needed to write it, so live with it. *wistfully* Wish I coulda written more...NEwayz, I kept my promise and the chapter is nicely longer. ^_^ You know those chapters that just seem to flow out of you? Yeah, it was one of those. Really easy to write. *sighs* This is the result of a highly-hormonized teenager with no boyfriend of her own.
I've figured out how Alex is going to play into all of this. Yay! I suppose I can officially say that this will be an A/A (am I the absolute first to do that pairing or what?? Cuz I've never seen it done b'fore!) And he's not going to be evil... exactly. Sorry, not gonna spoil anything for ya. But yeah, I went back and reread the A/A fluff that I'd perviously written and I was like, "yeah, I totally love that guy." So, you guys get your wish. He and Alanna are an item. Officially. Don't ask me about the whole Alex-goes-evil thing, I prefer not to discuss it.
REVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!