Summary: Alanna went to the convent. She can't miraculously fight. She isn't suddenly beautiful, or the realms most powerful mage. Corus definitely isn't peachy. And Roger?

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the one and only Tamora Pierce. Hail.

More than Ornaments

Chapter Four: The King of Thieves

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Bright sunlight ran in through the windows, waking Alanna late in the morning. She stretched out contently, relinquishing in the first time of her life that she had control as to when to rise.

The feeling diminished slowly as her stomach grumbled and she longed for a big, hot breakfast.

As if reading her thoughts a knock sounded on her door and Francesca entered, fully dressed and ready to face the day. She took a long, pitying look at her friend curled up in the blankets and rolled her eyes.

'Are you hungry?'

'Ravishing.'

Franci laughed, pulling the blankets away. 'Get dressed and we can find you something in the city. It's Market Day!'

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The King of Thieves looked out onto the street, peaceful to be at last in solitude. It was rare these days for his men to let him be- much less dangerous to travel in groups, they would advise.

Below him the streets were bubbling and crowded around the market, peasants and nobles alike rummaging through goods and food spread about. He spotted a stable boy of his try a hand at the pick-pocket career. A wise choice, he mused to himself.

George Cooper was a young man still, but lately he had felt old. Old, George groaned rubbing his neck, and tired.

Every day more common folk would arrive into the capital, abandoning their farms and livestock in search of a better, easier life. And with every new arrival Georges' work, and rule got harder.

Outland thieves would not share and obey to his rein. The higher bred common people of merchants and company holders constantly sought to take his throne as the Rouge.

Only a year ago, when Duke Roger had first become a serious threat to the Prince, George knew either side would benefit with the underground people's support. The armies (made up of these common folk) would split, and both Roger and Jonathan couldn't wish for the smaller half.

The lower, underground people of Tortall needed a side to take, and that meant George needed to pick one.

As he turned to go, a red flicker caught his eye outside. He peered at the two young nobles below, laughing gaily at a pair of orange mittens. Deep in his belly, the magic that bound the Rouge's Sight swelled, filling him with a need and yearning.

As the feeling relaxed George cast a doubtful glance to the heavens, and sent a small prayer to the Gods that had made him a Seer.

I hope you know what your doing.

Silently, he made his way down into the market.

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Alanna looked down at the jewellery box, far too ornate and ridiculously overpriced. Francesca tugged on her arm, bored of this stall already.

'Hurry up!' She insisted, 'there's a dress shop over there and midwinter's not far away.'

'There is so much of everything!' Alanna exclaimed. 'I've never been anywhere so expanse.'

'Huh!' Francesca pulled her friend away, the shop keeper glaring after them. 'You haven't even been to Port Caynn yet. Wait until you go there.'

'And when,' Alanna moaned, 'will I ever get to go anywhere?'

Franci grinned wickedly. 'Why not ask young Gareth to take you?'

Alanna snorted, stopping to look at a pastry. 'I don't think so…'

'And why not? You can't deny he's handsome.'

'And is that all you're after? As long as he's handsome, that's all that counts?'

'Ugh.' Franci tugged Alanna's arm again, 'your just impossible sometimes.'

'I know…'

A large hand tapped her on the shoulder. Startled, Alanna looked up into the hazel eyes of a man she did not know. He had a big nose, a snappy smile and short brown hair, cut like a commoners. Yet Alanna felt something powerful about him, something royal almost.

'Allow me to introduce myself, my Ladies.' The man bowed. 'I'm George Cooper, of the lower city. Will you take a cool drink with me? As my guests, of course.'

Alanna and Francesca eyed each other warily. Was this man a thief? Common sense, and convent training told them both immediately to not accept. Alanna grinned, with a good feeling about their first adventure, and felt she ought to answer before Franci declined.

'Thankyou,' Alanna said quickly. 'We accept.'

George led the pair through the bulging crowd and sunshine into a darker area they had passed earlier, and an inn called the Dancing Dove. An elderly man who greeted them spoke to George like an old friend, and hurried to bring ale and lemonade to a remote table.

'You shouldn't be surprised at my lookin' you up,' he told them, staring straight at Alanna. 'Truth to tell I like your looks.'

'That's quite impolite, Cooper,' Alanna raised an eyebrow at him.

George laughed. 'It's your eyes. We don't see many with eyes like yours.'

'My brother has eyes just the same,' Alanna stared back,' and he's lived in the city these past five years.'

'Well,' George looked slightly taken aback, 'I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him, I do apologise.'

'What is it you do, exactly?' Francesca ask, fixing him a sceptical look.

George winked at her. 'I- buy, and I sell.'

'You're a thief,' Francesca laughed lightly.

''Thief' isn't such a nice word, my lady.'

'And how do we know you're a nice person?' Alanna asked, sipping from her glass.

'You've still got your purse,' George smiled crookedly, 'or you had better.'

'We do,' Francesca answered. 'But are you to say you only wished to speak with us because Alanna here has strange eyes?'

George gave them both a twisted smile. 'I have the gift, and it made me curious to meet you, Alanna. It's not good to ignore the Gift that the Gods give to you.'

'No,' Alanna said, 'its not.'

Francesca swept here eyes around the dank room and made an educated guess. 'You're the Rouge, aren't you George?'

George nodded. 'That I am. And you're a sharp lass for guessin.''

Franci brushed the compliment away. 'I too have a brother here, and he has told me some crazy stories.'

'Most of which are grand, I'm sure.' George paused a moment, looking again to Alanna. 'It's a sorry time to be around at the moment, with civil war blossoming before our eyes.' He grinned, breaking the sombre mood, 'I can be a good friend to those who keep faith with me.'

'And faith,' Alanna grinned back, 'is becoming rather hard to come by.'

George laughed. 'You'll find me here most of the time, if ever need be.'

Alanna rose. 'Till then, Cooper.'

'Please, call me George.'

Alanna held her and out, and they shook on it. 'If you call me Alanna.'

Franci sighed, holding out her and too. 'Francesca, at your service.'

George watched them go, smiling.

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A/N: Hey! I'm so stoked by all the feedback- you guys rock!