Hate This And I'll Love You: Revelations and Resolutions.
The-Muse-In-Me
Disclaimer: See the first two chapters.
Because we're both together, always. I'll never let you go Alanna.
Everything was fading and Alanna's eyes were slowly closing.
Because I know I couldn't possibly
The last of Jon's essence dissolved slowly as darkness truly engulfed them.
I love you.
Just so that you wonderful people reading this understand what's going on I'll be moving through some different POV's and stuffs.
Also I've mentioned this to some of my reviewers but I've not made it clear this is set during the time of In The Hand Of The Goddess. Specifically the part when Alanna and Jon are in the garden and then Alanna runs away, etc.
Basically, this is a 'what-if' fic. So, 'what would have happened if Alanna hadn't decided to open the door between her and Jon's rooms and tell him that she was scared.'
Thank you very much for reading this long rant of mine, I won't always write so much at the beginning of each chapter
Muse
Alanna stirred from an oddly calming sleep and muttered into the hand she brought up to rub her face, 'Faithful, get off me...'
A predawn glow dazzled amethyst eyes; that was way too big to be Faithful. Her eyes focused on a muscular arm draped protectively around her bare waist. Where'd my blanket go?
Alanna's eyes widened when her mind brought attention to the more pressing matter at hand. THAT'S NOT MY ARM!
Memories of the previous night flooded back with the force of crashing oceans. The gardens, the man... Jon.
She peered down at her chest; the breast band she'd fallen asleep in was still in place. Moving her eyes lower she looked closer at the hand splayed uncertainly on the mattress. Bands of pressured skin wrapped around the third and fourth fingers as if rings were still being worn. She moved her eyes upwards, admiring hard muscle and tanned skin.
Alanna turned her head and was met by a mass of black fur. This poor man, Faithful had slept on his head! She giggled and went to stroke her guardian but retracted her hand when she heard a sleepy groan. Oh, Goddess...
'JON!' Alanna winced as her throat rasped in protest. Did I scream at Jon yesterday...?
'Uh-hhmm?'
Alanna's blood boiled. 'What. Are you doing. In my bed?'
The king-to-be lifted his shaggy head off the pillow. Jonathan gasped in surprise and tears pooled around his indigo eyes. 'Alanna, thank the Gods, you're awake!'
He reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of Alanna's face and smiled blissfully. 'Please don't ever scare me like that again.'
'Don't touch me!' Alanna backed away confused by the Prince's actions, 'GET OUT! How dare you come into my room as I SLEEP and... Do whatever you did! What the fuck are you talking about?'
Bewildered shock descended over Jon's features as he brought his hand sharply away from Alanna's cheek. Sitting back abruptly he blushed a shade of red upon realizing the extent of Alanna's attire.
'Forgive me for... For this.'
He moved swiftly forward and placed a kiss on Alanna's lips which were still stained red from the lip rouge she had donned the previous night.
Without another word he left an ultimately confused Alanna to her own thoughts.
/\\/\\
The Prince kneeled by his mother's bedside, next to his father who was dosing slightly in a rough high backed chair.
Jon smiled sadly to himself and turned his attention to the king.
'Father, I think you need some rest,' he commented.
The king regarded his son with one sleep blurred eye. 'But suppose that your mother woke and I-'
Jon smoothly cut off is father with a commanding stare to rule his grandfather's.
'I know for a fact that mother would only blame herself if she awoke to find you half dead from exhaustion and starved to the bone on her account. Now, please father, go and rest. You need it more than I do, I will stay with mother.'
King Roald frowned and shook his head.
'I hope you talk with as much vigour and conviction when you become king of this realm,' he stood up and stretched like a great lion.
'Promise me that if anything happens...'
Jon stood up and put a hand on his father's shoulder. 'The world will not succumb to Chaos if you manage to get a few hours sleep, Father. But should mother wake up, I will come and get you immediately.'
The king sighed, knowing that he was beaten.
'Thank you, son,'
Jon smiled as he watched him leave and was silently thankful. Even the most unobservant of people had commented to Jon how his father was looking more and more ill as the days went on. His mother's illness was weighting heavily on Jon's mind but not as much as it was on his father's heart.
Despite the fact that Roald and Lianne had been subject to an arranged marriage they had grown to love each other dearly and Jonathan didn't even have to be told that his father needed the Queen as much as he needed the air which he breathes.
Jon sat down heavily in the now unoccupied chair and became immersed in his own thoughts. His mind still lingered on what had happened between himself and Alanna.
They hadn't spoken properly for over two weeks now and Jonathan knew that sooner or later he had to confront Alanna about what he had seen that night.
'You look troubled, Jonathan,'
The Prince sat bolt upright and looked at his mother's concerned face.
'How long have you been awake?' the Prince ventured.
'I heard you telling Roald to get some rest. I have to say I couldn't agree more.'
She turned her head and coughed frailly into her hand.
'Anyway, you haven't answered my question.' The queen's all-knowing voice was slightly torn in places but she was still commanding.
Jonathan hung his head as he prepared to lie to the question that he'd been lying about for two weeks. 'It's nothing, Mother, there's nothing wrong,' he sighed openly, wishing that his troubles were simple enough to be able to share with his bedridden mother.
'Jonathan, look at me,' a cool hand tugged on Jonathan's chin.
Looking up he saw that his mother wore a look of concern on her features.
'Please, Jonathan, you've been worrying me for these past few weeks,' she smiled sadly 'I'm barely awake enough to see you at all, but I can't stand to watch you bottle something up for so long.'
Jon weighed up the odds as he examined his mother's face. He could either: try and explain what was wrong, maybe use some other woman's name or... I want to tell someone this... I'm just driving myself mad thinking about it and for all I know Alanna may be feeling that same way. Mother might be able to give me some advice, I suppose...
Accepting his new resolution, Jon took a deep breath to steady his ever growing nerves.
'It's... Complicated,' he looked to his mother for some sort of guidance.
'Well, Jonathan, it's not like a have anywhere else to be, is it now? Take all the time you want,' she smiled at her son reassuringly.
Taking another deep breath, the Prince tried again.
'It's a friend of mine. A woman. She's called Alanna,' Jon bit his lip and hoped that it was the right move using Alanna's real name.
'Alanna? Wouldn't I remember a lady at court with such a beautiful name?'
Jon smiled to himself, knowingly. I don't think anyone would be able to forget Alanna if they saw just how beautiful she looked in a gown.
'What does she look like? Jonathan?' Lianne raised her voice slightly in an effort to shake Jon out of his own imaginary world.
'What? Oh, erm... She's not very tall and...' Throwing caution to the winds Jonathan brought back the memory of Alanna sitting in the garden next to him on the bench.
'She has glossy, red hair and the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen,' blushing in spite of himself Jon trailed off uncertainly and took an extraordinary interest in the jewels on his fingers.
The queen frowned thoughtfully. 'Are you sure I haven't seen her before, Jonathan? I feel that I almost certainly have seen a lady of your description,' Lianne coughed once again, but this time more severely.
The Prince's forehead creased with worry, 'Mother, please, you must rest! Don't tire your self on my account,'
'Don't worry about me! I'll have you know that I'm not made out of glass! Now, tell me, what colour eyes does this lady have?'
Jon waved a hand nonchalantly, 'Purple.'
Jonathan's eyes widened in disbelief at what he'd just said. Fuck.
'She hasn't got purple eyes! She's got, erm...! Green! Green eyes! Yeah, that's it...' Jon silently cursed himself and whilst 'subtly' whacking his head on the comfortingly solid high backed chair.
The Queen observed her son with shrewd eyes. A/N: The nice, motherly kind of shrewd...
Picking her words very carefully Lianne began to speak, 'I think there's something you should be telling me, Jonathan. Either this lady of yours is some close relation of Squire Alan's or this lady of yours is illegally undertaking the training of a knight. Now, which one will it be?'
Jon looked up at his mother. While the illness had taken a toll on her features he could clearly see the humour in her sparkling eyes. Thank the Gods I sent Father to bed...
Blushing at his stupidity and just hoping that nothing came to pass from his monumental slip, he took a deep, steady breath.
'Squire Alanna,' he looked away from his mother, 'something happened to her, a long time ago, something terrible. I don't think anyone else knows,'
The Queen rested a comforting hand on her son's arm. 'You don't have to tell me if you don't think you should, Jonathan,' she looked up to see tears make tracks down his face.
Shaking his head the Prince looked away, unable to contain the grief he felt for his squire.
'Someone raped her. Some beast raped her when she was a child,' Jon's voice choked and his hands shook with the rage that had been coursing through his veins for the past two weeks. 'How could someone be sick enough, Mother? Why? Why abuse an innocent girl with no intention of doing wrong to anyone.'
Halting abruptly Jonathan turned his solid gaze to his mother. The anger in Jon's words had spread to his blue eyes, making them burn even brighter with the matching colour of his gift.
The queen sighed regretfully.
'You need to tell her that you love her, Jonathan. And you need to tell her what you know,' the Queen reasoned. 'This is something that you can't just hope to blow over, it doesn't work like that,'
Jonathan sat respectfully silent, waiting for his mother to go on. Lianne smiled in spite of the serious situation.
'Do it soon,' she whispered.
Nodding, Jon stood. He knew that his mother was right and the thought of a confrontation was lifting the large weight off his shoulders already.
'Thank you, Mother,' he lent down to kiss her forehead, 'Please try to get some more rest,'
The Queen smiled weakly, and gestured for him to leave.
Closing the door softly behind him Jonathan took a moment to think of where his squire might be.
Practice courts, I'll try there, the Prince strode off looking for his squire with more purpose in his step than there had been in two weeks.
This chapter just took me too long to write... I'm not sure when I started it but you know, at least it' finished now...
I hope you enjoy! I know this chapter might seem a little pointless but the next chapter shall be more interesting, I promise! It's the least I can do after making you wait 6 months for an update...
Please read and review, etc. I love you all!
- Muse
