Leaving the Eastern Lands
Disclaimer: Me no own nothing. Zilch. Bonkers. Nil. Naught.
Summary: A Thief. A Knight. A Joke. A Kiss.
Author's note: A cookie for anyone who can guess the title of the next chapter.
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It was nearing midnight, the inn was slowly emptying. Only those who George trusted were left, he noted. After locking the main doors and checking for any listening spells, he took his seat on his throne.
"Is there any other option?"
Marek shook his head. "None, ye will lose power if ye don't make an appearance soon. They're already doubting' ye."
"And it would do no good for the rogue t'be split in two," Rispah added.
George sighed, he had feared this. "I really hadn't wanted to leave at present time." Not with Alanna going to war so soon. They would have to leave immediately, he wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye.
Damn these troublesome roguesGeorge cursed. Couldn't they just behave?
George silently laughed at his own question. Of course they wouldn't behave, they were rogues. The timing was just wrong. To visit them now would mean sacrificing saying goodbye to Alanna.
Being the Kind of Thieves brought duty, personal matters were supposed to come second.
George had considered sending someone else to Port Caynn to look after the rogues, but decided against it. You never knew when a friend would become an enemy. Wealth and power could change people beyond imagination.
"Alright, we leave tomorrow at sun rise." As much as it hurt him to say this, he knew he must go. He would have to leave or watch the rogue fall to crumbles. A letter to Alanna would have to do.
It would never do, but that was all he could manage.
George had sent a messenger bird to Stefan containing a message for Alanna. It had asked for Alanna to come down to the inn, since George couldn't go to the palace.
I guess she ignored the message, George thought.
He had realized he scared her away, but had hoped she would still come. Hope was all he could do and hoping was getting him no where.
Alanna, strong as any man but afraid of love.
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They had been traveling for three hours. Every moment took him further and further away from Alanna. How was he to know if he was ever to see her again?
She was strong, a better swordsman than any man. But just as the sweating sickness did, the war took many lives and spared no one, no matter your strength.
He couldn't let Alanna ride off to war, without saying goodbye. He couldn't.
"Ye go ahead," he told Rispah. "I have t'go back to the Dove. I'll only be half a day's ride behind ye."
Rispah looked at her cousin skeptically.
George didn't notice, he was already on his way, galloping home.
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After two and a half hours of riding hard, George had made it back to the Dancing Dove. Alanna wasn't there; he hadn't expected her to be. He turned and made his way to the palace, not taking note of anyone around him.
He began to jog, and then sprint, until he ran into someone and knocked them over. He had knocked down a red headed girl who was dressed as a young merchant lad.
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Madame-S-Butterfly
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