---Dreams of a Lady---
Chapter Seven: Fighting: Love and Struggle
Genre: General/Action/Romance
Rating: PG-13.
Disclaimer: Characters and places belong to Tamora Pierce. I own the plot and my scattered original characters and the title comes from a song in the musical Into The Woods.
Author's Note: Um…please don't kill me? I love you all quite dearly. I'm sorry it took me longer than a year to update. I'm sorry if many of you have given up on me completely. I'm sorry if you hate me. Please don't. Also, please don't kill me and please don't send me hate reviews or hate mail. It has been one helluva a year. My Junior Year in high school. Quite stressful, really. But that is no excuse for not updating. Nor is GOBS AND GOBS of writer's block, but alas, there was that too. I haven't been around the fandom lately, not for lack of interest, but due mainly to my own moody listlessness. I'm very sorry if I haven't been keeping up to date with your fics. I'd like to try to get caught up to speed, though! So just tell me if I have abandoned you. awful person Please do not ever think that I would abandon my fic. I have such plans for it and I think about it at least once a day. Sorry for writing slowly. Also, my style has changed a bit this year, and I think for the better. Sorry if it isn't what you're used to. Sorry for stretching canon a bit—okay, a lot. Please, put up with me for a few more chapters so I can get my feet back on the ground?
Thank you, and I love you all. THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO THOSE OF YOU THAT HAVE STUCK WITH ME SINCE I WAS JUST GETTING ROLLING WITH PRIDE. YOU HAVE BEEN SUCH AN INSPIRATION AND DRIVING FORCE, AND FOR THAT, I THINK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE—YES I PLAY FAVORITES, BAD, I KNOW—AND I THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART.
---
In a world of haze and mist, the tall and beautiful goddess stood above the void of life, leering out over the pools of shadow. Her luminous green eyes paused from time to time at each patch of writhing, inky black and searched for any form of movement besides the smoky drifting that seemed to encompass this land of half-life.
A hulking form, rank with dread came up beside the goddess and said nothing for a long while, watching the swirling eddies with the elegant woman. When, from within the depths of black, a figure appeared, he murmured softly, "She approaches."
The Great Mother nodded. This was what she had been waiting and watching for. The figure, a girl, perhaps in her late teens was stumbling about below the worst of the haze, her fiery red hair a striking beacon against the bleakness of the world.
"You must save her," the goddess stated, not questioning, not pleading, nor demanding. "She is my Chosen, and you must save her."
The Black God was silent for a few moments and then shook her head. "What would you have me do? She has not yet passed into my realm."
The goddess, a bit irked, bit her lip, her eyes narrowed as she watched the confused girl continue on in the haze, stopping occasionally to gaze into rips in the mottled gray. Through these rips, she saw behind her, to where she had come from. Slowly, she fell to her knees before one such tear, eyes swollen with the threat of tears. "George..." she called out softly, her voice tired and breaking. "No..."
The goddess bit her lip. "There must be something you can do. I know it. You're keeping something from me. I can tell."
"She has no fight left in her," the darkly shrouded god explained softly. "She has used every shred of her Gift and much of herself. She will soon perish completely and with nothing left for her to cling to, there is little I can do."
The painted red lips of the goddess frowned into a thin, smug line; she was not ready to give up yet. "She is my Chosen," the Great Mother stressed, voice hard and immutable.
The Black God nodded slowly and bowed his head.
---
"Cooper!"
The bark penetrated the young man's tortured reverie, and he looked up slowly, face slack with grief.
"Cooper, are you Gifted?" the older knight asked, eyes narrow with concentration.
George, usually not lost for words took a few seconds to answer. "I-I have the Sight, sir."
Myles nodded. "Hmm....it may just be enough."
"Sir?" George asked softly, his eyes back on the limp form of the girl in his arms.
Myles stroked his beard thoughtfully. "She might not be too far gone. How much would you risk for her?"
George looked up, hazel eyes moist with emotion. "Everything."
Myles nodded, taking a few steps toward the two figures. "Her Gift is drained completely. She was saving Jon with the magic that was keeping her alive. It may be possible, with a shred of the Gift, she could put up a fight..."
---
Alanna stayed frozen where she had fallen to her knees as she watched the world she just slipped from pass by through the tear in the haze. George. Holding her body in his strong arms, his whole body raked with grief. Myles was talking about some foolish plan to save her, she assumed, but she could tell it was risky by the grave look on the knight's face and the spark in George's eyes.
"No..." she murmured, sinking down until she was sitting helplessly on her heels. "No…"
"My daughter?"
Alanna, a bit surprised by the voice and the goddess who had come to stand behind her, looked dolefully over her shoulder. "My Mother.... Jon...he...?"
"Lives," the beautiful deity affirmed, "and you may too." She nodded to the tear. "He means to save you, Alanna."
"B-but..." Slowly it dawned on her what he planned to do. "Oh, my Mother," she gasped softly, tears flowing freely down her paled cheeks. kill himself...he doesn't know what he's doing...why would he do such a thing?"
"Because he loves you, Alanna. And he would give anything he could to save you. Do not let it be in vain, for you are strong, and I have great faith in you, my Chosen One."
Alanna looked up from George to the goddess slowly, the edge of panic flitting through her violet eyes.
"Child, you must fight," the Great Mother repeated, a bit more urgently.
Alanna nodded slowly. "What must I do?"
A hint of a smile formed on the taller woman's painted lips. "Run. When you feel the spark, run. Think about your life. Every good thing, every bad. Concentrate. Will yourself to live."
Alanna swallowed around the lump in her throat as she turned back to the rip, her eyes tracing the scene frantically. She turned back to the goddess and nodded hesitantly.
The woman bowed her elegant head in admiration and respect and disappeared back into the haze. Alanna's eyes, once more locked on the rip, widened slightly in horror when she saw George glow faintly and it was but a second before she felt a warmth—so familiar and yet so alien, new and fresh—blossom in her bosom. The new sensation spread, the gentle warmth plying at sore muscles and she struggled to stand, her body wailing in protest.
She ran, slowly at first, stumbling and tripping, willing herself to remember everything. The glimmer in Thom's eyes when he was learning something new or knew he was being impressively knowledgeable; his scowl when she'd tease him for being a know-it-all; the worry in his voice when she told him of her reckless diversions. A ghost of a grin formed on her cracked lips. Her reckless diversions. George. She ran faster, clawing at the darkness and mist, every fiber of her being wanting to be back with her brother, her friends. She thought of the thief's wicked half-grin and then the kind look he seemed to reserve just for her. His laughter, his caring, the way his eyes danced when he was up to something clever. From there, her thoughts strayed idly to Jon. Jon, her first love. Their courting mishaps, the way he kissed her, the way she fought with him so for respect, the way Alex had tried to ruin what they had. The next thought was inevitable: Duke Roger. She shivered, and had to claw harder at the mists that clung to her, trying to hold her back. His glinting blue eyes, the way she felt sick every time she was around him, the slipperiness and cunning she associated with him. That smile of his that she knew hid so many evil plots. Thoughts came rushing back to her, vague at first, but slowly solidifying. She had to fight. There was so much to live for, so much she had to do, so many aspirations waiting to be conquered. She fought to gather everything she could remember about her, and suddenly the gray swirled into black, all around her was quiet and cold. She cried out, as the cold bit into her, but the sound was lost in the void, cloaked in the impenetrable black and whipping winds.
---
Alanna felt as though she fell back into her body; every single one of her nerves rebelled, sending a wave of burning pain through her. Quickly, biting back a cry, she gasped for air, fighting to open her eyes, as she struggled in George's arms. Feeling the girl writhe in his arms, George quickly hugged her tightly, his relief inexpressible by words alone, though in a soft, reverent voice, he thanked every god he could think of.
Alanna's breathing continued in ragged gasps, but was beginning to settle as George hugged her tighter. To Alanna's nearly numb form, he was warm, and solid, and most of all real. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him for a mere second before quieting and losing consciousness. The tall thief quickly took her hand in his and felt for a pulse, and was heartened to find one, weak as it was.
For many moments he held her in his arms, trying to catch his own stolen breath. Finally he looked up at Myles, moisture shining in his hazel eyes. He smiled shakily at the knight, and said softly, "S-she's alive."
Myles smiled wearily, and shook his head in relief. "Oh, thank Mithros."
Slowly the door creaked open and two worried faces peered in, warm brown and shiny black eyes round with the emotions that had been growing since the door shut behind them an indeterminable time before.
"Is Jon…?" Gary began, looking further into the dimly lit room.
"She saved him," Myles said quietly, looking back over to Alanna, a bemused, wondering expression of awe only just evident on his timeworn face.
"And Alanna?" Raoul put in quietly, looking over at the pale girl, not understanding—nor for now, questioning—why George held her so tightly.
Myles' gaze drifted to the pair and he allowed himself a fraction of a smile. "A surprise at every turn, I'm certain. I have a feeling there is more to this girl than any of us know."
Thinking they knew just what more there was to Alanna, Gary and Raoul both hid grins. George, who had overheard snatches of the conversation—and knew Alanna better than almost anyone—beamed at the still girl in his arms, pride shining in his hazel eyes.
---
George left Alanna's side as infrequently as he could over the next few days, slipping off down the hall—or, in the case of one close call, into the privy—until he could return to her bedside. Gary and Raoul visited her as often as knighthood allowed, checking up on her condition with the healers. Stable, they would muse, just plain stable.
Three days had passed since Alanna had healed Prince Jonathan, and still she couldn't be revived. The healers were worried, of course, as were Alanna's friends in the palace, but they voiced all of their worries in low whispers behind George's back. No one understood why the thief remained so vigilantly by Alanna's side, but in such a dire time, no one dared question his devotion.
Sir Myles, after seeing the spectacle of the healing and one side of the magic that had brought the girl back from almost certain death, felt drawn to the girl, and during the few breaks he had between working and his history class, stopped in her room for a few moments. He observed. Whether it be the rogue that seldom took his eyes off the girl or her knighted friends, each and every visitor revealed something new about the Trebond's lady. He once caught Gary and Raoul murmuring something about high blocks before exchanging small sad smiles.
Eleni Cooper came once to visit the girl, and her visit stuck in Myles' mind the most, and not just for the obvious reasons. When the healing woman came, she brought with her a large wine skin that to Myles' humor was filled with tea. He watched George accept it with a tired grin, but it was clear that his heart wasn't in it. Eleni bent to hug him tightly and the thief choked back a sob, trembling slightly. She comforted her son for a time before even noticing Myles standing quietly in the door. She offered him a warm smile and he returned it with a bow of his head; when Eleni was looking over Alanna, assessing her a bit more personally than the other healers had, Myles sat quietly in other chair by the girl's bed. George, finally noticing the older knight's presence nodded respectfully to him and took a long drink from the skin, the lines of grief pulling across his forehead and around his mouth, almost instantly starting to ease.
Eleni turned back to her son with a slight shrug of her shoulders, a helpless look about her. "She seems perfectly fine," she sighed, rifling though her bag for a packet of somewhat illegal smelling salts that George had imported for her.
Through all this, Myles watched until George finally remembered his manners and introduced his mother to the knight and him to her. For once, the knight had nothing to argue concerning the Code of Chivalry and kissed the back of her hand with a gentlemanly smile. Eleni favored him with a polite smile and in a moment of boldness asked, "You were the one that walked George through the magic, weren't you?"
A bit taken aback, Myles nodded. "It was nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."
Eleni nodded, her brow furrowing in thought. "But it shouldn't have worked," she said after a thoughtful pause. "She would have been too far gone…"
Myles shrugged hopelessly. "It was the only thing I could think to do. Perhaps she is more powerful than we have given her credit for. I hadn't even known that she was Gifted, though it seems she may be as talented as her brother." He sighed. "It doesn't make sense that she should have been able to heal him when no other Healer could."
"Perhaps it was the will behind her actions," George said quietly from the chair he'd gone back to. "She was never the type to do things part way." He bowed his head, the threat of tears causing his eyes to sting.
Eleni understood the worry behind her son's words and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "She is not yet lost. Do not give up hope."
George nodded briefly and turned back to Alanna, taking her small, cool hand in his own.
---
The alley was dark and secluded, a place for shady dealings and slipping away into the night. It was a place where one could go to disappear and had a reputation for being seedy and dangerous. It was the perfect place for a less than scrupulous group of rogues to dump the load they'd been carrying through the dark streets. By the time anyone found the bundle, they'd be off on their own ways, with their purses jingling. The leader grinned a nasty, toothless grin. "Dump it 'ere, lads. We'll leave it for the dogs t'find come mornin'."
A few of the men laughed quietly and let the bundle fall to the ground, ignoring the quiet cry of anguish that came from the blood-stained back and whatever was inside.
---
Alanna was dreaming and in her dream she made no sound in passing, stepping noiselessly into a room that stank of dried blood and incense. Healers and monks must have been here, she thought dully, eyeing the trembling figure on the bed. Whoever he was, he was bandaged tightly, and hardly an inch of skin showed. The bandages, she realized, feeling her stomach clench, had been soaked through with dark, rusty blood. The figure stirred just enough for her to catch a glimpse of copper hair, slick with blood. She screamed and felt a wave of terror overpower her, knocking her to her knees.
A rich, almost heavy chuckle came from behind Alanna and she strained to turn her head, catching a glimpse of black and piercing blue before a wave of nausea overtook her and she crumbled to the floor.
---
"THOM!" Alanna screamed, voice cracking as she sat bolt upright in the soft bed, startling the thief that had been nodding off in the chair beside her. "Thom!" she whimpered, tears flooding down her cheeks. "Thom…"
She felt a warm, calloused hand squeeze her own and turned to George, eyes wide and terrified. "George…my-my brother?"
George took a deep breath. "He couldn't be in much worse of a condition. But he lives."
Alanna exhaled raggedly, tears still spilling from her tightly closed eyes. Sleep overtook her once more, and her dreams were tortuous.
---
Author's Note some more: I'm sorry if you didn't like it. Sorry for the shortness of it. If you hated it, I don't know what to tell you. I did my best. :-/ Also, I have NO clue what happened to the formatting with this new Quick Editor. ::twitch:: WHERE DID MY ASTERICS GO?!
No personal reviewer thanks this chapter, sorry. It's not like anyone's gonna remember what they said anyway. For all those who reviewed, thank you very, very much! Your support means the world to me! Any way. There are a lot of new faces around here, and I'd really like to get to know all of you!! Drop me a message!!
If you want fic updates via e-mail, leave your address in a review and I'll add you!
Thank you for reading. Thank you so very much!
With much love and many more apologies,
--Sara