Title: Court Games
Author: Ayla Pascal
Summary: When Roger turns back time and reveals Alanna to be a girl, she gets sent to the convent. Five years later, Alanna goes to court to search for a husband. AU. Alanna-Roger.
Rating: R
Pairing: Alanna/Roger
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Chapter 1: Changing the Past
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Nothing is impossible. This was a principle that Roger of Conte lived his life by. He had managed to cheat death once, and he wasn't going to fall into its grasp again. Everything he had fought for was almost gone and it was all Alanna of Trebond and Olau's fault.
He watched as Lady Delia sank into a low curtsy in front of his chair. "My lord," she said, fluttering her eyelashes prettily. "How might I help you?"
Roger smiled. "Fetch me the stone that Sir," he sneered at the honorific, "Alanna wears around her neck."
Delia's eyes widened. "My lord!" she exclaimed. "She wears that stone all the time. How can I get it off her?"
"My pet." Roger's smile was not kind. "You will find a way."
She visibly paled. "Yes, my lord."
"Good," he said and waved a hand for her to leave.
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Taking a deep breath, Roger slid the glowing crystal ember into the bubbling cauldron. The potion inside immediately turned from a calm blue to a fiery red. He poured some into a vial. Picking it up, Roger stared at it briefly. If he had done this incorrectly... That thought was simply not worth finishing. If it was incorrect, the best possible outcome was that he would die. The worst possible outcome would be the complete and utter annihilation of Tortall and surrounds.
With a last look around, Roger downed the contents of the vial.
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Tortall doesn't change much in ten years, Roger thought as he rode hard towards the northern fief of Trebond. In fact, it looks exactly the same.
After he had drunk the potion, Roger had immediately found himself in the past. To be precise, he was in the exact same position he was in ten years previously, in the university library in Carthak. He managed to make his excuses and had boarded a ship the next day to cross the channel to Tortall. And from there, he had ridden hard across the Southern Desert, ignoring the Bazhir tribes, towards his destination of Trebond.
About two weeks later, Roger found himself at the gates of the heavily fortified fief. He rapped sharply at the guard door with his wizarding staff. "Let me in," he ordered.
The guard opened the door a crack and looked insolently at him. "And who might you be?" His accent was thick, almost Scanran.
"Duke Roger of Conte," he said icily and was satisfied to see the guard pale. "My Gift allows me to see some of the future and I have come to stop a terrible mistake."
"Your Excellency," the guard said, stumbling over the words. "I'm sorry, I'll let you in immediately." He opened the door and Roger stepped past.
"Oh," Roger said, turning back for a second. "The correct honorific would be 'your grace'." He walked away from the still shocked guard and led his horse up the main road of the village.
Just in time, he thought grimly as he could see two riders in the distance, cantering closer to him very quickly. One of the riders was tall and burly. The other was short, stocky and had his hood pulled over his head to hide his face.
The taller rider pulled at his reins and stopped the gelding as they neared Roger. "Who are you?" he demanded.
Roger bowed. "Duke Roger of Conte. Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"Coram Smythesson," he said, with a suspicious expression on his face. "And just what would King Roald's nephew be doing all the way here in Trebond. The last we heard, you were all the way in Carthak."
"I have some powers in determining the future," Roger said smoothly. He turned to the other rider. "Lady Alanna." He could see the girl stiffen in her saddle although she obviously fought to hide it. "There is no use, child. I know."
Coram looked shocked and slowly turned in his saddle to face the other rider. "Alanna?" he said slowly. "Take off the hood."
Slowly, reluctantly, the girl slid the hood from her head.
"Merciful Goddess!" Coram yelped. "What in the name of the Mother were you and Thom thinking?"
The girl pouted. "I want to be a knight," she muttered sullenly. "Thom wanted to be a sorcerer. We swapped places." She glared at Roger. "You ruined everything!"
Roger simply smiled. He hadn't ruined anything. On the contrary, he had just fixed everything.