I didn't actually intend to have much of Alanna in here, but she's one of those powerful characters that likes being the center of attention. So she's here to grumble, and maybe throw some perspective on things, but as I said before, we're keeping this one short, so you won't see too much of her. However, every once in a while she'll get one of these little interludes.

"I heard about your latest project." Alanna looked up from her desk, and smiled. Trust Jonathan to come into her study when she'd left orders that she was working, and not to be disturbed. Few disobeyed Alanna, here in her suite at the palace, but fewer still disobeyed the king. He's still the man he was forty years ago, she thought with an inward smile. Jon will be a king until the day he dies, even if Roald does run the country now. "I admit, I was surprised. You, at a desk?"

Alanna smiled at her old friend. The years had been kind to him, and if he looked so much older than he once had, well, he was still as handsome and kingly as ever. "I sort of hope someone in the future will do the same for me," she admitted. "It's not right that she was forgotten."

Jon chuckled. "You think to be forgotten so easily, Lioness? They still sing of your quest of the Jewel, and that was…" he paused. "Mithros, that was forty years ago! Am I really so old?"

"We are really so old, Jon. They're forgetting me, and they've already forgotten Kel."

"Now that I don't believe. The pair of you are legends. If they remember my rein a hundred years from now, it will be because of the two of you."

"Don't sell yourself short, Jon. You've been the greatest king Tortall has ever had."

Jon shook his head. "We can debate that another time. I've been reading your notes. The 'Tree-bound hold' was in the same place as Trebond. Don't tell me you're descended from the first female knight."

She laughed. "Not a bit of it. The Trebond line traces back to her younger brother. Not everyone can be a warrior and a woman."

Jon reached over and took her hand. "You've done well, darling. We're all proud of you."

Alanna flushed, but didn't let go of his hand. "Don't start on that again."

"Fine. Time was I could overrule you and make you listen, but you're getting prickly in your old age."

Alanna laughed and stuck her tongue out at him, as she had when they were pages together. "And you're getting soft."

Jon grinned and changed the subject. "Perhaps I should take up a project, instead of wandering around the castle like I do. Roald hardly lets me do anything, now."

"They think we're getting old," Alanna said with a grimace, thinking of the patronizing tone her son had used with her when she'd proposed her project.

"Darling, we are old."

"Not so old that I couldn't turn that boy over my knee and give him the spanking he deserves."

"He's not four anymore, you know," Jon commented. Thom was a little too like his namesake for his personal liking, but there was no denying the man was loyal to Roald. He just seemed to think the older generation, his mother and his king included, ought to be put out to pasture for the rest of their days. He also knew Alanna loved her son, but was by no means blind to this particular fault of his. No one, not even his mother, could be exposed to Thom for long and not notice his arrogance.

"He acts like it, sometimes."

Jon squeezed her hand. "He takes after his mother. He'll come around. You did."

"You didn't leave me much choice," Alanna grumbled, more for the sake of form than anything.

"That's the cold weather talking. Perhaps you should go live with the Bazhir for the winter."

"And have Thom tell me I shouldn't be exposed to cold at my age?"

"You never did like the cold. I seem to remember you leaving when you were eighteen to live in the desert. How you survive at Trebond I'll never know."

Alanna shook her head, and mentally began to plan her journey to join her tribe in the desert.