Chapter 8: To Corus We Shall Go…

It hath arrived! First, I wish it to be understood that Imogen is not going to be paired with the dustbunny under her bed (see reviews if confused). Nor is there going to be Daine/Numair action. My apologies to all Immortals fans, but I'm not overly fond of Daine and I hate sappiness. Warning: hints of Thom/Imogen! I'm still not saying if that's what I'm doing, though! The census seems undeniably in favor of that pairing, however.

D'you honestly think any of this, besides Imogen and the plot, is mine? If so, I'm touched, but give the credit to Tamora Pierce.

It took a surprisingly short time for the Pirate's Swoop crowd to get underway. Because it was the Crown Prince's wedding, nobody brought many clothes, since they would be expected to have new ones made in the latest fashion. Imogen was not looking forward to this. He mother had previously had to force her to wear dresses on the occasions when they were required, and a year of having to wear a skirt every day at Saint Margaret's hadn't helped. Imogen loved the freedom given to her by the breeches and tunics she now wore and did not want to give it up again for the fashions of the day. Consequently, she was in a rather foul mood.

"Gods-cursed King Jonathan," she muttered, dragging her bag behind her as she trudged down to the stables. "Gods-cursed dresses, gods-cursed balls, gods-cursed Corus, gods-cursed royal wedding, gods-cursed god…"

"Technically, gods can't curse themselves," Thom said helpfully from his perch on the fence railing. He was carrying a bag too. "You're just like Ma, hating all formalities. Aren't you even a bit excited to see what the capital is like?"

Imogen glowered at him, at this moment hating every inch of the lanky redhead in front of her. "Not if it means wearing a dress," she said darkly. "I hate dresses. They look nice, but they feel stupid and they're very impractical. You can't do anything when you have an ankle-length sheet of cloth wrapped around you."

"I wouldn't know," Thom said cheerfully. "Hurry up, Ma's waiting for you. She wants to see if you like the horse she picked for you."

To Imogen's extreme delight, she was not going to be arriving in Corus on some ladylike palfrey. Alanna had chosen a spirited buckskin mare by the name of Calypso, a steady mount but with enough fire and character to make her an interesting ride. Imogen's bag was slung onto one of the packhorses along with the baggage of the rest of the family. The journey to Corus would take five days, according to Alanna, and they would be camping under the stars each night. At Alanna's command, the train swung into action.

Imogen had never ventured very far outside the confines of the manor. After her disastrous tangle with the Queen's Riders, she had been rather wary of the surrounding countryside. However, riding with Alanna and company, she discovered it to be a very beautiful place. She felt very safe traveling under the banner of the Lioness Rampant. Nobody would dare challenge them when they flew the red and gold standard of the King's Champion.

To Imogen's extreme surprise, Thom seemed to spend a lot of time riding with her. At first she was very cautious, suspecting him to have some trick up his sleeve, but eventually she found she could forget her wariness and truly relax. The day was warm, the birds were singing, and she could always clout Thom in the eye if he tried anything. The duo spent a lot of time discussing Corus, the royal palace, and what could be expected when they arrived there. Thom, being the Lioness' eldest son and heir, had much experience with the court.

"There'll probably be some old conservatives clucking over the disgrace to the realm, allowing women to become knights," he said glumly. "We'll be expected to bow and scrape and act polite." Suddenly he grinned. "You'll probably be pinched and poked and dragged off to some room for cross-examination by the King's security board. Then they'll hand you over to the ladies, who'll gape at you like an exhibition in a menagerie. They'll wonder if your hair really is naturally that pale, and why you aren't engaged yet."

"Engaged?" Imogen shrieked in horror. "Engaged? I'm seventeen, for heaven's sake! Mother didn't get married until she was twenty-five!" Calypso shifted under her rider, uncomfortable with the unexpected noise.

Thom was smirking now. "Most girls at court are either engaged or married by your age," he explained, eyes glinting wickedly.

Imogen gaped at him. "What kind of society is this?" she spluttered. "I'm not even considered an adult where I come from."

Thom shrugged. "Just thought you'd want to be prepared," he said wickedly.

Imogen snorted in disbelief. "Prepared, my foot. You wanted to see my response. Well, your lordship, are you satisfied?"

Thom gave up trying to suppress his amusement. "Very," he admitted. "You have most fascinating reactions to things. Riding with you is an adventure."

"Is that why you're with me so much?" Imogen demanded. "I'm an adventure?"

Thom grinned again. "Nope," he said. "I'm doing it to torment Alianne. She thinks I'm in love with you."

Imogen's jaw dropped for the second time in ten minutes. "What?" she spluttered, absolutely poleaxed. "You're not, are you?"

"'Course not," Thom said, smirking, "but she thinks I am." Seeing the disbelieving expression on Imogen's face, he added, "See for yourself. The moment I move away, she'll be up here trying to convince you that you're in love with me too." With that he rode ahead to join up with his parents.

True to her brother's prediction, Alianne moved up to take his place. "You and Thom are getting along very well now," she said slyly.

"Don't even think of it, Alianne," Imogen said, glaring at her younger friend. "I am not in love with your brother."

Alianne shrugged, her expression suspiciously innocent. "Did I say you were?" she said, eyes wide. "Still, you have to admit, you would have a rather interesting marriage…"

"Alianne," Imogen said warningly, mentally sighing. Was every member of this family slightly insane? "Did you forget that a week ago we couldn't speak to each other without screaming?"

"Love works wonders," Alianne said, a mock-dreamy expression on her face.

"Oh, shut up," Imogen said in disgust. Ignoring her friend's giggles she spurred Calypso ahead, only stopping to inform Thom he had been right. It was going to be a long five days…

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"Beautiful," Imogen said in awe, gazing at the city below her. "Just beautiful." After days of steady traveling, the Pirate's Swoop band had finally arrived at the hill overlooking Corus. It was Imogen's first glimpse of the city, and she was struck almost speechless by the flawless white of the palace, topping the city like a royal crown (ironic but appropriate, Imogen thought).

Alanna smiled at the girl. "It is overwhelming at first," she said. "The palace is hopelessly confusing, with passages that lead where they're not supposed to, or nowhere at all. Be prepared to get lost a lot."

Imogen made a face as the company set off again. She had to admit, she was looking forward to her visit to Corus, dress fittings, balls, and all. Alanna had promised her lessons in the palace training yards, and introductions to all the knights at court. Maybe Corus wouldn't kill her after all…

When Alanna's party arrived at the gate, the guardsmen's eyes almost bugged out, and Imogen couldn't blame them. Alanna knew how to make an entrance in style. She was dressed in her colors of red and gold, with her Lioness Rampant banner and shield prominently displayed. George, Thom, Alan, Alianne, and the soldiers all wore the brown and gold of Pirate's Swoop, with the exception of Imogen. In her pale green and gold with her sun-bleached hair gleaming in the mid-day sun, she looked conspicuously different from the redheads surrounding her. Since she got as many gaping stares as the Lioness, she assumed the news of her unceremonious arrival in Tortall had spread to the capital. Also there was the fact that, though there were three females in the party, none wore skirts or rode sidesaddle.

"Could you please stop gawking long enough to let us in?" Alanna inquired irately. "We've been riding for five days and everyone's exhausted." She wiped her sweaty forehead with her sleeve and added, "Plus it's broiling out here."

Still staring, the guards hurried to open the gates for the King's Champion. The cavalcade rode through, heading towards the palace. Imogen stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the whispers behind her.

"Did you see the fair-haired one? She's not Tortallan, not even from this world…"

"Captain says she's a demon…"

*Gods*, Imogen thought. *How am I expected to fit in here if they think of me as something evil?*

However, once inside the city gates Imogen had too much to think about to worry about the opinions of guardsmen. Corus was a whirlwind of sound and color, with hawkers and peddlers displaying their wares and yelling for the travelers to come buy. By grace of the Lioness banner, the party was allowed clear passage to the castle, meaning they got to the palace gates much sooner than they would have if they had been forced to push through the crowds in the marketplace.

The guards on the palace wall were much better trained than those on the city walls. They didn't gawk and whisper at the passing company, something Imogen was profoundly grateful for. She felt conspicuous enough as it was.

As Alanna dismounted by the stable, a stocky man came hurrying out. "Stefan!" Alanna exclaimed, her joy obvious.

"So ye're back, lady Lioness," the man said, bobbing respectfully. "And the young 'uns," he added, smiling at the twins and Thom, who beamed back. His eyes came to rest on Imogen, who had swung down from Calypso's back and was holding her reins loosely, feeling oddly excluded. "You'll be the new lass," he said, nodding. "Welcome to Corus, your ladyship."

Imogen smiled, glad that he was treating her like any other new arrival. "Thank you," she said, the golden swirls in her green eyes sparkling, "but I'm not a lady. I'm just Imogen."

"Well, Lady Imogen, then, I'd best be taking your horse."

Shaking her head in amusement at the compromise, Imogen relinquished Calypso's reins. She'd have to get used to being called a lady.

"Alanna!" another voice shouted. "You're back!" The tallest, broadest man Imogen had ever seen swept the Lioness up into a tight embrace.

"Raoul of Goldenlake, let me go this instant!" Alanna commanded, laughing. "You're as hopelessly large as ever."

The tall man grinned, his black eyes sparkling. "Just pleased to have you home again. Hello, Thom. Still practicing spells? Good. And you, George. Black God, you two ruffians have grown. And you must be Lady Imogen." Raoul extended his hand in greeting.

Imogen took it. "Drop the 'Lady' and you've got it just about right," she said wryly. "I hate titles. And forgive the bluntness, but who exactly are you?"

The man pushed his tightly-curling hair out of his eyes. "Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Mallory's Peak, Knight Commander of the King's Own."

"Ah. Alanna talks a lot about you." Imogen would have said more, but they were interrupted yet again.

"Alanna!" A chestnut-haired man, almost as large as Raoul, came charging down the path. Imogen mentally sighed. This could go on for a while.

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That night Imogen lay sleepless in her bed in the palace for a long time, thinking. Her afternoon in Corus had been primarily spent being introduced to all Alanna and George's acquaintances. The Lioness had said that tomorrow she would be introduced informally to the royal family. Strangely this didn't worry the girl. They were only people, after all.

What kept Imogen awake was something that had hit her today out of the blue as she was being introduced to Geoffrey of Meron. She no longer thought longingly of "home" when she was lonely or sad.

Somehow, when she wasn't looking, Tortall had turned into her home.

And that scared her.