A/N: wow it hasn't even been 24 hours and I'm already updating? ::shock:: well, enjoy. I didn't really have much of an outline for this one, I just kind of started writing, hopefully it isn't too horrible. It's basically just meeting people and stuff. And a lovely fight scene of course. Oh and I desperately need a beta-reader for this story. If you'd like to volunteer for the job please email me at tennishunni87@aol.com. It would be greatly appreciated. And now, on with the show!
Chapter 2: To Duel a Red-head
Alanna looked around her new quarters, sighed, and sat down hard on her bed. She really didn't want to be here. How could the other girls be so excited about sealing their fate which would haunt them the rest of their days? They would marry some old bafoon, be forced to fuck him at will, and produce little bafoon juniors, all the while being forced to manage some fief in the middle of nowhere while the bafoon was out fucking the village girls and taking care of "business" elsewhere. Alanna might have been considered an optimist, but this really did not sound enticing to her.
A knock on the door jerked her out of her depressing daydream. She stood and began hanging up her dresses in the wardrobe. "Come in," she called in a falsely cheerful voice. The door opened and Alanna turned around. When she saw who it was, her whole demeanor changed and she bounded over to the red-headed boy.
"Thom! Oh gods, Thom you look wonderful!" Her twin picked her up and swung her around, while laughing. It was true too. His complexion was radiant, and his toned body was evident even through his tunic and undershirt.
"You could say the same about you, dear sister," he replied. "If I wasn't your brother, I daresay I might be smitten with you." Alanna blushed and hugged him harder.
"Please don't say that Thom, it's blatantly not true."
"Did they teach you meekness as well as manners at that convent? What happened to the prideful girl I grew up with who always whooped my ass in everything we did…except for lessons, and never failed to endlessly tease me about it?"
"She's still here," she began assuredly. "I just haven't seen her in awhile. Surely you should know that I haven't changed too much from all the letters I've sent you."
"Too true, too true. I knew you hadn't been assimilated by those convent bitches, because why else would you beg me for two years to smuggle you a sword? 'Tis very unlady-like Lan,' I said, but no, you would not be satisfied without one. Now do tell me, how good are you at your swordsmanship?"
She grinned maliciously. Good enough to beat the pants off of you, that I can assure you. You never were one for the fighting arts, Thom."
He grinned back, even more maliciously. "But some things can be attained in due time, milady. Would you like a practice duel to prove myself?"
Her grin widened. "Well of course, but I would hate to bloody your tunic right before dinner, O brother of mine." Those words she said, but she was already reaching for her breeches and undershirt which were hidden in a secret compartment of her luggage, underneath the frilly dresses. No tunic was needed, for it would just be taken off when the duel began.
"Let's go then," Thom said when she was dressed and ready.
***
Sweat drenched the bodies of both twins, and surprise was evident in both sets of purple eyes. Alanna gasped as pain spread through her left side due to a skilled butterfly chop by Thom. She parried and jumped back, looking for any opening at all. He was good. In fact, if she was to be honest with herself, he was better than her, and she had trained with Javion, the head hostler at the convent who was an ex-officer of the King's Own, the personal guard of King Roald. He had been sent packing after eloping with his lady-love, and decided to spend the rest of his days taking care of the convent's many horses in his hometown, City of the Gods, and on the side, training Alanna for four hours a day: two before dawn, and two after sunset. If Alanna was anything, it should have been better than her weak brother who couldn't even pick up a sword let alone maneuver it so deftly the last time she'd seen him. But if Alanna was surprised, it was nothing compared to Thom's shock. He was the best swordsman among all the squires, and even most of the knights too, save for Alex of Tirragen, one of his best friends, and a few others. The duel had been going on now for at least 15 minutes, and still he hadn't been able to beat her, although he almost had a few times. Not only was this a girl, but it was his sister for crying out loud. She hadn't even trained properly in swordsmanship. But if she hadn't, a little voice in his mind said, then how does she know all the right things to do? I think Alanna was keeping a little secret from the nuns at the convent. Then at that moment, he saw an opening, as she raised her sword above her head to deliver a blow that would end the duel, and he snaked his sword around her arm, ending with its point a scant few inches away from her throat. Dejectedly, she lowered her arms, panting with exhaustion.
"Good match," she said in between deep gasping breaths.
"You too," he replied as applause began from somewhere on the far side of the practice room. They both turned and a smile broke out on Thom's face as he greeted his friends warmly.
"And who might this mysterious young lad be, who almost beat our expert swordsman here?" a strangely familiar handsome young man with coal-black hair and cobalt-blue eyes asked Thom.
Thom laughed and said, "Jon, this is my twin sister, Alanna. Alanna, this is Prince Jonathon."
Alanna who had stuck her hand out to shake his immediately dropped to an awkward curtsy after hearing his title, and a shiver of fear spread throughout her body as she remembered her dream.
"Oh please, none of that groveling if you will," the prince said to her. "I don't approve of it among friends, and any relative of Thom's is most certainly considered a friend of mine. You are a fine swordswoman, Alanna."
It was just a dream Alanna, she scolded herself. Indeed, the prince seems very kind, and good-natured. Stop scaring yourself, people have nightmares all the time.
Not nightmares where real wounds appear on your body, a sensible part of her mind began, but Alanna just ignored it. Staring into those blue eyes seemed to dissipate any bad thoughts she had first had of the prince.
"And indeed, what about us Thom?" said a tall, built man about the same age as the prince, with sparkling coal eyes, and a full head of dark brown hair, along with a warm, friendly smile. "Are we nothing compared to Jon? We'd like to be introduced to this female prodigy as well, you knucklehead."
Alanna blushed, for she knew she must look a fright with her hair frizzing from the humidity, covered in sweat, and dressed in boy's clothing. "Right then, Alanna this is Raoul of Goldenlake," the dark-brown-haired man smiled and bowed to her, "and this is Gary of Naxen, Gareth of Naxen's son". Here a man built along the same lines as Raoul but with light-brown eyes and matching hair also bowed to her.
"I remember you…Alan was it back then?" he said with a teasing note in his voice. "I must say, I think I like the name Alanna much more."
She blushed once more. "I didn't really get the time to know anyone. After all I was only here three days," at this, she grimaced in remembrance of the shame she had felt as she was escorted from her rooms through the palace and to a waiting carriage that sent her to the convent, with a crying 11-year old inside who would not be consoled.
"Well now that you're back," boomed Raoul's deep voice, "you have plenty of time to get to know us." He winked at her and turned to the others. "Looks like it's almost time for dinner, shall we go wash up?"
"Yes, let's," replied Gary. "Hope to see you at the ball tonight, Lady Alanna," he grinned at her and turned to follow Raoul's retreating form.
"Dammit," exclaimed Alanna in anger. "There's a ball tonight, in our honor," she said referring to her and her year-mates from the convent. "Why oh why do they torture us like this?" she said to no one in particular, and then ran off to her room to bathe and get ready for dinner, without so much as a backward glance at her brother or the prince, who were standing there, one grinning, the other with a puzzled expression on his face.
"She certainly is something," the latter said to the former.
"That she is," Thom replied. "C'mon Jon, we'd best go wash up too."
The prince sighed. "Unfortunately you're right. Although I am starving," he added, and with that, the two of them exited the practice room and continued toward their separate quarters, with one in particular looking very forward to the ball tonight, during which he planned to ask a certain fiery red-head to dance.
A/N: ho hum that was actually really fun to write. I love Raoul. I think I shall marry him, indeed. I know a lot of you are thinking, oh dear why is Alanna ignoring her horrific dreams and liking Jon, that prat? Well darlings, Jon indeed is a prat, but you are forgetting just how much eye-candy he actually is. YUM. Yes, so let them lust after each other because I have greater and bigger plans for them both. Although actually the plans aren't that much greater for dear old Jon, but still… you shall see.