A/n: Look, people! This is going to be an Alanna/Gary fic, that is that! I get sick and tired of all these A/j and a/George fics, and this is going to be done my way, as I have already said. I'm sorry, but there are plenty of those around already. Pleuropneumonia is real; I just added a hyphen for no reason whatsoever. Meh. And I reserve my right to call Alanna whatever I choose, because I don't think she could have survived with a name like that and not have it shortened, and Aly seemed the most likely thing, although Tammy uses it for something different. And I called her the Lioness because I also think it's a nickname that could be reasonably given, and because I liked the idea that the name was intrinsic in her personality and no just inflicted by her shield.

Alanna collapsed on her luxurious bed, totally exhausted by the travels of the day. She yanked the various blankets and quilts unceremoniously into a suitable position around her soaking body, and snuggled her head into her pillow, consciously filling her mind with the simple patterns of the few simple sword-dances she knew, the familiar rhythms of which she used to lull herself to sleep. She was just drifting off when Cythera burst in through the adjoining door- and then jumped on her friend.

"Alanna!"

Alanna groaned groggily and rolled over, grunting.

"Go 'way, Cyth. 'M tired."

But the offending maiden paid no attention, and carried on jumping on the Lioness.

"Alannaaaa!"

Rubbing her eyes blearily, Alanna sat up, leaning against the dark oak headboard, artistically carved with pictures of the Gods.

"Whaddya want, Cyth?"

Cythera rocked back, looking rather pleased with herself for succeeding in the normally impossible task of getting her friend back into the world of the sentient. Her eyes widened with anticipation of the pending explosion. Her mouth curled up in amusement.

"Aly, the hunt's in an hour."

Cythera was not disappointed. Alanna shrieked like a banshee and took off round the room, yelling for Cythera to help her. Throwing wide the doors of her wardrobe with no respect for its antiquity, she grabbed the first thing she saw that had less then three layers of frills and a wide enough skirt for her to ride in. It turned out to be a dark blue gown, simplistic and elegant, and by some freak of chance happened to be exactly the dress Cythera (who had a decent portion of dress sense) would have picked out. Alanna never found this out, because her friend was to busy howling with laughter to comment.

The hunt was in pursuit of deer and other game, all harmless, so ladies were permitted to come if they so wished- very few of them did, of course, and no-one ever expected any to come along- but Alanna and Cythera insisted on attending. In no less then half an hour- an obscenely short time for two young ladies coming out- the duo were downstairs in the great hall and ready to go.

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Corus had not cooled the Lioness temper. Alanna was fuming to Cythera as they rode slowly along, and her friend was well aware that only her restraint had prevented an explosion in the middle of the stables.

"I can't believe they would do this!" The Lioness whispered savagely. "Do they thing we can't ride or something?"

Cythera murmured soothing nonsense in the general direction of her friend. This latest tantrum was the result of being given to ancient, docile mares that could barely go faster then a limp. Mentally, the peaceful young girl sighed.

It was going to be a loooooong stay. She would just have to amuse herself.

A/n: I know I got slightly off-track with this scene, but I wanted to set the scene. Besides, I cannot disobey the plot bunnies. :0