TWO

At the heart in every fool
Is the hope you're stupid too
"High Horses" – The Swell Season

Raoul awoke the next morning, head pounding. Or, wait. That was the door. The door? Where was he? He cracked open an eye – instantly regretting it – to take in his surroundings. The door was still making an absurdly loud noise. "Who knocks so damn loudly?" he growled, rolling out of bed and stalking over. "Who is it?"

"Alan." A tankard of ale. Alan laughing. Another tankard. Images of Alan bravely riding to Jonathan's side. Another tankard. Images of Alan fencing in the practice yards. Another tankard. Rationalizations for his feelings. Another half tankard. Getting up. Walking over to Alan. Kissing—

"Shit," Raoul murmured, memories of the previous night flooding back to him. He rested his head against the wood. Why? he wondered, wanting very much to smash his head against the wall in the hopes of getting the stupid out.

"Raoul?"

Composing himself, he opened the door, doing his best to look his normal, sunny self. Now that he saw the hall, he recognized his location as the Dancing Dove. So someone just put him upstairs in a bed the night before? He would have to remember to ask whom. "Good morning, Alan."

Alan, expression unreadable, held up a mug. "I brought my hangover remedy. Thought you could use it."

He took it gratefully. "You're too good a friend, Alan of Trebond. Come in, come in." Raoul left the door open, expecting Alan to follow him. He sat on the bed, sipping Alan's famous remedy. It tasted terrible, but worked like a dream. Alan still stood in the doorway. "Are you coming or not?"

Alan looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Raoul tried his hardest to look as if he remembered nothing about the previous night.

"You don't remember last night?" Alan looked skeptical.

"No," Raoul lied quickly. Too quickly. Damn. Alan raised an eyebrow. They looked at each other for a long minute before Raoul sighed. "You want to talk about it, don't you?"

"No," Alan said. "But we should."

"Shut the door." He obliged, but stayed near, leaning against the solid wood. "Alan, I had a lot to drink –"

"Obviously." The squire rolled his eyes. "You ever consider cutting back?"

"But I like how it tastes!" Raoul stuck out his lower lip in a pout. Alan rolled his eyes again.

"I'm sure. But going around kissing people isn't normally a good idea. You're lucky I like you so much. Were you anyone else, I might've stabbed you."

"You wouldn't stab a friend."

"Are you sure about that?" He wasn't, particularly. Alan sighed. "I think there's something I should tell you. About me."

Raoul's eyed widened. "I'm not—I'm—"

Alan laughed nervously. "Before you say anything else…" He moved to sit beside his friend, who took a cautious sip from the mug, making a face as he did so. Alan politely ignored this. He knew how much everyone detested the flavor of the drink. "Raoul, I'm not… who you think I am."

"Huh? You're not Alan? You look like Alan…"

"No. There is no Alan."

Raoul frowned, looking into the mug. "Have you drugged me, or am I still drunk? Because this doesn't make any sense."

"My name's Alanna."

"But that's a girl's name."

"Yes."

"Your father gave you a girl's name? That was cruel of him. Can't say I think much of him. But that doesn't mean there isn't an Alan."

"No, Raoul." Alan sighed. "I have a girl's name because I'm a girl."

Raoul choked on his own spit. "A what?" His voice sounded strangled.

"A girl, Raoul. You have heard of them?"

"Yes, but—" He looked rather pointedly at her chest, too hungover and too shocked to obey the laws of etiquette.

Alan—Alanna turned crimson. "I bind myself flat."

His black eyes met his—her violet ones. "You're serious."

"Why would I kid about this?" he—she wanted to know.

"I don't know. Maybe you thought it would be funny to tease the guy who kissed you last night…"

"No, Raoul." Alan—na sighed. "Have we established that I'm really a girl yet? Because I'm not about to prove it any other way."

"You've been a girl this whole time?"

"Yes."

"What about your brother—Thom?"

"He wanted to be a mage." She shrugged. "I wanted to be a knight. So we switched."

"When you were ten?"

"We looked a lot alike. I've had you all fooled for six years, haven't I?"

"Well…" Raoul thought for a moment. This certainly answered some questions he'd had. "That's why you wouldn't swim with us!" He frowned. "Who else knows?"

"George. Mistress Cooper. Jon. And now you."

"Gary doesn't know?"

"Not yet."

"When are you going to tell him?"

Alanna shrugged. "When the time's right. Probably when I tell everyone else—after I win my shield."

"How long have Jon and George known?"

"George has known for… a long time. Jon found out in the Black City." Raoul nodded, still thinking. "Any more questions?"

"No." Raoul grinned, taking a sip of her remedy. "It's funny, though."

"For you, sure. Not for me. You can't tell anyone."

"I know that!" Raoul put the drink down on the stand next to the bed. "You think I'd tell your secret? I thought you knew me better than that."

"That was before last night."

Raoul colored. "How about we forget about it?" Not that he needed to as much now, since he knew Alan was really Alanna. It was still strange to have such feelings about his friend, but at least they weren't for his male friend. He could take some comfort in that, at least.

"Fine." Alanna stood. "I have to get back. I told Jon I wouldn't be gone long. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine. I'll be back soon."

"You want me to wait for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll come back on my own."

"All right." Alanna went to the door. "Bye, Raoul."

"Bye… Alanna."