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

Author Notes: Thank you everybody for their reviews and words of support for the last chapter. I really appreciate it. I will hopefully be updating this story very regularly, for this month at least. Unfortunately I have my uni exams in November, so obviously they will take precedence.

Out of curiosity, would anybody be interested in reading a Daine/Rikash story? As in Rikash Moonsword not Rikash the baby. grins If it were the HP fandom, I might dabble in the latter, but you guys seem fairly ... sane compared to that fandom. Yes it is cross-species, but ... well, just let me know what you think.

Reviews are good. wink

-

Chapter 4: Preparing for the Ball

-

"Milady," the maid said to Alanna with a slight curtsey. "I'm afraid that this was the only dress that could be ready in time."

Most of Alanna's clothing – including her ballroom gowns – had come out of her baggage badly wrinkled and were now hanging in another room. There would be no chance that they could be ready for the ball tonight. However, this alternative didn't seem any better. She looked at the dress in abject horror. "This is pink," Alanna spluttered.

The maid simply blinked at her, obviously not understanding.

"I have red hair!" Alanna exclaimed. "I'll look ridiculous!"

"I'm sorry, milady."

"Please go," Alanna told her.

The maid looked at her in surprise. "But, milady," she protested mildly. "I was ordered to help you dress."

"I am perfectly capable of dressing myself," Alanna answered tartly. "In fact, I was able to do so for the past five years at the convent. What makes you think I've suddenly forgotten?"

"Sorry, milady," the maid said, with another curtsey. "I'll be leavin' now." Alanna latched the door behind her as she left.

Alanna was left in her rooms staring at the dress. In fact, it wasn't that bad, except for the bright pinkness. And the bows. Gwen would die laughing, she thought morosely. Gwendolyn of Silverspring was her best friend back at the convent and was a year younger than Alanna. The other girl was delicate, almost elfin. Compared to her, Alanna always felt rather ungainly.

With a sigh, Alanna stripped down to her underthings and picked up the corset that came with the dress. Breathing in deeply, she did it up. Then, she stepped into the dress and did up the lacing at the front and tying the ends around her neck. Smoothing the dress down, she noticed that it was made out of a beautiful silk. Probably from the Yamani Islands, she thought.

There was a sharp knock on her door.

"Who's there?" Alanna asked.

An audible sigh came from the other side of the door.

"Thom?"

"Yes," came the irritable reply.

Alanna walked over to the door, unlatched it and opened it. "Well excuse me if I don't remember how you knock," she snapped.

Thom simply stared at her. "What in the name of Mithros are you wearing?"

She looked innocent. "A dress."

"It looks awful," Thom said flatly.

She glared at him. "Thank you, Thom. What a nice way to make your sister feel good about herself. Tell her that she looks awful."

Her brother shrugged. "I didn't say that you looked awful," he pointed out pragmatically. "I said the dress looked awful."

"Why are you here anyway?" she asked.

"Since obviously you are on our darling Prince's good side," Thom began, "then perhaps you could try to convince him of my idea for a class for Gifted pages and squires. Use your influence, maybe."

Alanna was frankly appalled by her brother. Had his morals always been so non-existent or was it some sort of by-product of him being a page and then squire. If the latter, then she was glad that she wasn't allowed to be a page. What about the Code of Chivalry? Did that mean nothing to her brother? "I would never do a thing like that," she said angrily.

He looked mildly surprised. "Why not?"

"It's morally repugnant!" she hissed. "Not to mention almost treasonous!"

A slightly condescending smile twisted his lips. "Treasonous? My dear Alanna, don't be so high-minded. That isn't treason." He paused slightly. "It is merely, being intelligent."

She snorted.

Thom tilted his head to one side. "Not very lady-like, Lady Alanna."

"Oh shut up," she said, infuriated. "I could beat you when we were ten. I bet I still could."

"You couldn't." Thom's tone was quietly confident, the type of tone one uses when they are positive of something. "You may have been naturally somewhat stronger and fitter than I am, but I've gone through five years of knight training, while you were at that convent."

She glared at him. "I bet I can still beat you at archery."

"Would you like to try?" His voice was deceptively innocent.

"Yes," she snapped. "Tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning it is then. Sunrise?"

"Fine." A part of Alanna was wondering why her brother was being unusually agreeable, but she ignored it. "And, Thom?" she said as she walked towards her dresser to take out some jewellery. "Even if I didn't find that idea morally repugnant, it's not like I have much influence with his Highness anyway. He is only taking me to the ball because I'm new at Court."

Thom didn't answer and when Alanna looked around again, he was gone.

She glared at the bedspread. "Well he is," she muttered. "Isn't he?"

-

"She finds the idea morally repugnant," Thom reported to Roger, who raised an eyebrow.

"You and your twin are remarkably different people," he said mildly.

"Obviously," Thom said dryly. "She has no sense of pragmatism. So idealistic."

"Some would consider that a good thing."

Thom raised an eyebrow. "Why Roger, I never knew you were one to possess morals." In fact, he added silently, if I'm not mistaken, you may have even fewer than I do, which should scare me.

Roger gave him a pointed look. "Subtlety, Thom."

Subtlety, always subtlety. Thom mentally rolled his eyes. With the amount of power we both have, we could take over Tortall easily. Nobody could stop us. Not even my precious sister. Aloud, he simply said, "I was subtle."

"Knowing you, Thom, you were as subtle as a rabbit in heat and with absolutely no style."

And as much as he hated to admit it, Thom knew that Roger was right.