Disclaimer: I own nothing, so please don't sue me.
A/N: This is my first try at a Tamora Pierce fic, and I hope it goes well. I remember the good old days when I used to tease my cousin about being so obsessed with these "Alanna" books, but once I picked one up at the school bookfair, I found myself forgetting just what was so funny about her maniacal obsession. In fact, I finished the first book in one night and went back to buy the next three on the following day. So anyway, I would just like to say that although I love these books, I don't know what she was thinking about when she hooked Alanna up with George. Personally, I'm more of an Alanna/Jon fan. So, here's my try at an A/J fic. I hope you all like it!
P.S.: I know I've only written mostly Harry Potter and His Dark Materials up until now, but don't worry, I'll still keep up with all of those other stories. This one's only going to be about three chapters anyway.
Okay, here's the first chappie.
Chapter One: The Invitation
Alanna sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window at the quickly darkening sky. The lumpy straw that filled the mattress was poking up into her backside, but she hardly noticed. A glazed look took over her eyes as she watched the black clouds gather.
A loud slam rang up the narrow staircase, followed by two thumps and a clank.
George was home. And he was drunk.
Alanna stood up and brushed herself off, heading for the kitchen below her. As her feet lightly hit the old, wooden steps, she could hear paper tearing from the room in front of her.
"ALANNA!" came the uproarious voice of her husband.
"Yes, George?" she asked cautiously, turning to face the drunken thief. Somehow, his nose seemed even bigger than normal. There was a fiery rage burning deep within him, which she could see through his eyes. His hair was damp from the humidity and sweat, and there were several new rips in his shirt.
"WHAT'S THIS?" he shouted, holding up a crumpled piece of parchment.
Alanna had no idea what he was holding. It looked like a letter of some sort. She started forward to read it, and he thrust it violently into her hands.
Her purple eyes scanned over the neatly written script, and George almost exploded in fury when her fingers lingered on the signature, tracing over it faintly.
"I THOUGHT YOU TWO CUT IT OFF!" George continued on in an enraged manner. He was always a lot louder when he was intoxicated.
"We did!" Alanna said exasperatedly, wondering what had gotten George in such a state. She looked once more at the wrinkled court invitation and said calmly, "I guess Jon just wants to see me. Catch up on old times."
"Seems a little more personal than that!" George said rudely.
"We were best friends for years! Are you trying to tell me that I'm not even allowed to be that anymore?" Alanna replied angrily.
George's face burned as he grunted and drew his arm back. The backside of his hand hit her left cheek forcefully, knocking her into the table. Her own hands flew up to her face, holding it in pain. She had to ignore his behavior, however; he was drunk. George had no idea what he was doing, and besides, it wasn't as if this was the first time something like this had happened.
"You don't speak like that to me, wench."
Alanna cringed as she grasped for the chair behind her. She sat down carefully and hung her head. Finally, her ears picked up the sound of muddy boots hitting the kitchen floor, heading up for their loft. Tears spilled from her eyes, and she tried her best to wipe them away.
Two years ago, she would have killed George for even considering slapping her. But things had changed. No more was the courageous, bold, independent Alanna. Now she was the timid housewife of the most feared, and yet respected, man in all of Tortall. Obedience kind of came with the package, and besides, people met unfriendly fates when they spoke up to the King of Thieves. She longed for nothing more than to be on the battlefields once again, defending both country and honor.
What had happened to the nice, caring George that she had once loved? He used to respect her. He used to treat her as an equal, or better. But now look at her, sitting at the kitchen table trying to stem the tears.
Her only comfort rested in the fact that she would soon see Jonathon. As much as George didn't like the idea, he had no choice but to oblige. It was against the law to refuse an invitation to court.
Alanna's mind pictured her old friend's handsome face, and she almost smiled when she thought of finally getting to talk to him. Almost.
So? What do you think? I'm thinking that this story will be about three or four chapters long, depending on what I write on each one. But who knows, maybe I'll make it even longer!!! So please,...
REVIEW!!