Why does it always have to be so horrible? Alanna choked back a sob.

Chapter Eleven

Two Years Ago:

Raoul felt someone poke him in the ribs. Instinctively he swung his arm out and grabbed his attacker by the wrist. "Wha'cha doin'?" he demanded, sounding drunk. He blinked a few times, rubbing his stinging cheek, which had been pushed against the nightstand. "Oh, it's you." He let Gary's hand go and turned all his attention to his cheek.

"Shhh!" Gary hissed, putting a finger to his lips. Then he mouthed, "I think she's waking up."

Raoul nodded, falling silent. The redhead between them stirred ever so slightly. "Wh--where am I?"

The two burly knights cracked a grin as Alanna blinked sleepily, looking around in wonder. "What's going on? Raoul? Gary? Is that you guys?"

Raoul reached out and ruffled her short hair. "Yeah it's us--right scared us, too! You've been asleep for five months and you ask questions? No 'hello'?"

Alanna blinked again, rubbing a hand against her eyes. "What? I've been asleep five months? What happened? I don't remember anything but saving Jon."

Gary shook his head. "Hoo-boy. This is going to take a while."

So Raoul and Gary spent most of the afternoon explaining everything that had happened. When they were done Alanna--expectedly of course--demanded to be allowed to see Jonathan, yelling at Duke Baird that she was fine to get out of bed, and promptly fell over when she did, would have broken something if Gary hadn't caught her, and then said it was just because she was bedridden for five months.

Alanna's heart was heavy in her chest. Why Goddess? Why? Did it really have to be this way. . . ? She reached out a tentative hand, stroking Jon's thick black hair with a finger. Outside she heard speaking, and Gary's firm voice denying whoever it was entrance. Her two knight friends were standing guard so she would have some alone time with Jon.

A tear fell down her cheek. Alanna brushed it quickly away, rubbing her eyes and ordering herself not to cry. He was alive, wasn't he? What more did she have a right to ask for?

"Who's there?"

Alanna stumbled back, shocked. She hadn't even known that Jonathan was awake. His normally sparkling eyes were tight shut, and his voice was bored, as if he didn't care anymore.

"It's me," Alanna whispered, moving to kneel beside him. "I'm back."

His eyes remained shut, but Alanna saw the tears leaking from under them. "I missed you so much!" He rolled onto his side and threw his arms around her, kissing her hair. Alanna put her arms around his chest, helping him sit up.

"I'm sorry my spell didn't work. . ."

Jon shook his head, blinking away tears from his dead eyes. "It's not your fault. You did your best. Besides, I just need you to be happy." He traced her face with a finger.

Alanna's shoulders were shaking with anger. "It's not okay! I can do better than this--it's not fair! I should've been able to do something." She punched Jon's bed with her fist. "I don't like this, not one bit!" She found that tears were falling from her eyes too.

Jonathan sadly shook his head. "No. I love you, Alanna--you did all you could."

"It's not fair that I can't do more!" Alanna leapt to her feet, anger swelling inside her. She didn't even try to fight it now. "Agh!"

She thrust her magic forward. Violet fire sparked outwards, lashing like a whip at the wall. A chunk of stone fell to the floor with a thud. She turned and lashed again at the water basin. It cracked, spilling its contents everywhere. Again she turned, lashing out again and again. When she sank into an exhausted heap on Jon's bed the room was in tatters.

"Rest daughter--all is right, for now."

Alanna cringed, feeling the last of her energy being sapped from her. You'll never learn, will you? Faithful said as he leapt into her lap, Gary shutting the door behind him.

He's right, you know, the reasonable part of Alanna said before she collapsed against Jon.

"Alanna, wake up. . ." The voice sounded soft, like it was meant only for a dream.

Slowly, Alanna stirred, feeling gentle fingers tracing her face. Violet eyes opened, meeting sapphire. She looked up into Jon's handsome face, taking it all in. His black hair fell into his face as he leaned over her, masking part of his right eye. There was a wickedly charming sparkle in his eyes, which extended to the half-smile on his mouth.

Gods, he looks more handsome than ever, she mused, reaching up to touch a face like an angel's. For the first time in a long time he looked truly happy.

"Get up, lazy!" he teased, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "The sun's shining! The meadow's ready--let's have fun!"

For a moment Alanna stood, confused. Then she took it all in. He was right, the sun was shining on the valley they were standing in. He was dressed in a black shirt, silver tunic and royal blue breeches, looking more handsome than ever.

"C'mon!" he urged.

Alanna looked down at herself, and saw that she was wearing a lilac silk dress with an appallingly low neckline. She chuckled a little, knowing that this was a dream, and somehow not caring.

"Of course, your Highness," Alanna teased, wrapping her fingers around his hand.

Jonathan lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "My Lady." Alanna was about to yell at him when he gave a sharp pull on her arm, dragging her after him. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

Laughing, Alanna turned around and shut her eyes. A moment later he pulled her around, putting something in her hair and kissing her thoroughly.

"You like it?" Jonathan asked, taking something out of her hair and handing it to her.

Alanna laughed. It was a headband of yellow daisies. "Squire Alan in a dress and a daisy headband, huh? I think he's throw a fit if he knew."

"Then let's just keep this one for Lady Alanna, okay?" When she hesitated he dropped the headband in her hair and pulled her close, kissing her softly.

Alanna felt a rush at the thrill of being kissed by Jonathan. Lately she had gotten used to it, but this time was different somehow. She felt the familiar clashing of swords in her head, and the exhilaration as she threw her opponent's sword aside and shoved Lightning against his neck.

Her eyes went wide with fear. Alanna threw herself backwards, out of Jonathan's grip. She was sweating.

"What's wrong?" He knelt next to her, looking just as he had the first time he had kissed her. . .

Alanna swallowed. "Kiss me," she ordered, shaking from head-to-toe.

"Why?"

"I don't know you idiot! Just kiss me and I'll find out."

Looking worried, Jonathan leaned over her, putting one hand firmly under her head he lowered her to the ground, kissing her softly. He pulled back quickly.

"No. Longer!" Alanna swallowed hard. She knew she had to see what was happening, but she was afraid. "It's important," she added when she saw him hesitate.

He nodded slowly, leaning in to kiss her.

This time the kiss lasted as they both sunk into it, and Alanna saw the swordfight clearly. She was circling the Duke of Conté, Lightning unsheathed. He lunged in, his eyes wild with rage. Alanna turned sideways, catching his blade on hers as he lunged by.

Roaring, he spun to face her, but Alanna swiftly took his sword.

She gulped, throwing her arms around Jon and keeping his head down. She had to stay.

Roger flung himself at her, weaponless, defenseless. Orange magic flew wildly at her, but Alanna threw it off with a violet shield. Then she ran him through with her sword--but it wasn't Roger.

Alanna screamed. Jonathan pulled back, his eyes wild. "What's wrong?" he demanded, cradling her in his arms, stroking her arm.

Tears ran down Alanna's cheeks. "R-Raoul. It wasn't Roger, it was an illusion spell. It was Raoul."

Jonathan looked at her worriedly. "Calm down," he whispered, pulling her into his lap, talking softly. "What happened--from the beginning."

Slowly, haltingly, Alanna told him what she had seen.

Seeing the panic in her eyes as she spoke, Jonathan began to wonder if he should be wary of his cousin. While Roger was his cousin, he loved Alanna, and trusted her with his life. . . But he trusted Roger also. . .

"I can't kill Raoul. . . It was an accident!"

"Alanna, shh, he's not dead!"

Jonathan reached out, putting a hand under her chin, tilting her face towards his. "Everything will be alright. I promise. There's an explanation for everything. Roger is not guilty, and Raoul is not dead." He let her face go. "Okay?"

She shrugged, not looking at him.

Then something caught Jonathan's eye. He watched for a moment, and it happened again. Alanna's ember-stone, the token of the Goddess flared up, pulsed, and then went down. It did this several more times as he watched.

"Does it often do that?" he asked, unable to keep the note of anxiety from his voice.

Alanna glanced at the stone, and shook her head.

Jonathan stopped. "What am I doing?" he asked nothing in particular. "The Goddess has granted me a temporary reprieve, and I'm wasting it wondering about your ember-stone. Let's not worry for now, alright?"

With a gulp, Alanna nodded, running her hand through his hair. "You're right, as usual. We'll worry later, for now I want you to be mine."

Jonathan kissed her softly, fumbling with the laces of her dress. She felt her hands around his neck, removing his tunic.

When it was over Jon was in a daze. He felt. . . sad. He didn't feel happy and excited like he usually did when he and Alanna had made love. Instead he felt as if some part of him was dead.

"Let's do it again," Alanna said, rolling over in his arm.

Jon blinked, forcing his eyes away from her prominently displayed chest. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky.

"C'mon!" Alanna sat up, running her fingers across his muscled chest. With a devilish grin she climbed on top of him, straddling him so that her chest was now hanging over his.

Jon gulped, feeling every muscle in his body tense. Something felt wrong, very wrong. And it was the fact that he didn't know what was wrong that scared him. He wanted nothing more than to make love once more, but something told him that he mustn't.

She lowered down against him, running her tongue across his jaw.

Stop it, he howled mentally, wishing by the Goddess she would stop. Something wasn't right, he knew that. And this wasn't like Alanna anyway.

Something reared up inside him, dark an ugly. Using all his strength, mental and magical, Jonathan fought it down. But it returned, lunging for him. That's when Jonathan lost control of his actions.

Suddenly he had a feeling that he felt like the lower town scum, forced to make a living from prostitution. But he was the prince, he did not have to do things like this. But yet his body made him.

"Got'cha." Above him Alanna smiled, pulling away from his limp form. Abruptly she changed.

There was a woman of inhuman beauty. Her skin was milky pale, but her eyes were a vibrant red. She grinned, revealing sharply angled teeth that looked much like a shark's. Around her a black cloak swirled into place, covering her naked body. She got to her feet, pulling the silky material around her.

"It's never a good idea to make love to a Goddess," the woman told him with a cold smile on her ruby painted lips. Her raven black hair fell down against her shoulders, topping off her beauty.

Jonathan struggled to his feet, feeling weak and drained. "You made me!" he roared angrily.

"Oh, did I?" Her voice was milky soft, but her face was angry. She advanced on him. "You've served your purpose--if I could I'd erase my twin's doings, but I can't. She's too fool hearted."

She ran a black painted nail across his cheek, grinning wickedly. "How would Tortall feel if it fell into the hands of Roger of Conté? Surely your dearest Alanna would be upset. But if their Prince was unable to produce an heir. . ." With a wicked laugh she showed him the foot-long blades her nails were forming. She touched his hair, pulling his head back so that she could kiss his neck. "Ooh, but it'd be such a shame--he's so yummy. Too bad!"

Pain rushed through Jonathan, smashing him to the ground. Blood dripped down the inside of his thigh from the wounds her nails had inflicted. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the pain between his legs knocked him down.

She laughed coldly. "Oh. . . You can fight battles can you? But you can't take it when someone claws you up down there? Shame. I'll have to tell all your enemies your weakness. Oh. Wait!" She doubled over in cold laughter. "I've already blinded you! In the real world you're barely alive. Too bad! And my sister can't fix this one without some help. Of that I know. Farewell." She said the last pleasantly, and vanished in a whirl of cloaks.

Jonathan fought for consciousness for a few more seconds, then was enveloped in darkness, a stinging pain burning him from between his legs.

R-E-V-I-E-W! I know, aren't I evil? But more importantly--who is She, and isn't She evil? HAHAHAHA!