I wish it didn't have to end like this, Alanna thought miserably. The man put his sword back in its sheath, offering a hand. She gulped.

Chapter Seventeen

One Year Ago:

I'm tired of being knocked out, Alanna mused, though with little humor. She pushed her tired eyes open with a groan. "How long this time?" she whispered hoarsely. She cleared her throat and tried again, with no better result. "Water," she croaked.

One of the lesser healing mages came over with a full pitcher of water. Alanna downed its contents in a few hurried gulps, then sat up, gasping for breath. "Can--can you fetch Duke Baird?" she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The healing mage nodded, backing away from her while bowing deeply. Alanna sighed. Hate damn formalities. She yawned, stretched, and winced. The bandage at her side was tender. She rolled onto her other side, fluffing up her pillow.

Something yowled. That was my tail you just rolled onto, Faithful scolded.

"Well get your tail out of my way then," Alanna snapped, "it's my bed."

Muttering something about saving her life a few days ago, Faithful adjusted himself so that he was on top of her pillow. With a contented sigh, Alanna closed her eyes, thinking just to rest for a few moments.

"Alan? Alan, are you awake?"

DAMN IT! Alanna sat up, angry with herself for falling asleep. She sat up, wincing at the pain that spiked through her side.

"Alan, are you all right?" Duke Baird reached out, steadying her as she swayed from pain.

Alanna closed her eyes and focused on breathing for a moment. "Yes," she whispered finally. "How long've I been out?"

"Not long. Only two days."

"Good. How's Jon?"

"He's improving. He asked to see you once you were awake and well." He eyed her critically from under knit brows. "Are you well? Or just awake."

Alanna frowned crossly. "I'm as well as I'll ever be, sitting here in a bed," she replied sweetly. "Now, let me see my Prince."

Duke Baird nodded. "Very well, Alan. But don't keep him long. He needs rest more than you do. And mind the healing on your stomach wound--three broken ribs. Three!"

Alanna managed a half-smile for the Duke, who was clearly kidding by then, and went into the room at the back. She let herself in, shutting the door behind her. The room was dark, but her eyes adjusted rapidly. A dim light filtered through the only window, which had curtains over it. Alanna reached up to pull them away, but found that she was too short. Swearing, she climbed carefully on the bed next to Jon, got on her toes, and then pulled the hangings apart. Light flooded into the well cared for room.

With a sigh, Alanna seated herself on a stool and prepared to wait until Jon woke up. But as it turned out, she didn't have to wait long. Within a few minutes her prince was stirring, and opening a bleary blue eye.

"Alanna?" His voice was weak. He smiled softly. "I'm glad you're up."

"Me too," Alanna whispered, taking his hand and holding it. "I wish you were too, though."

He cracked a slightly wider smile. "I suppose you'll want to know what happened then?" She nodded. "Alex. . . He was the one who did the damage. He attacked me after that other man--"

"--Dreke--"

"--knocked you out. Okay, Dreke. Alex said that it was his job to hurt me, and that you'd been in the way. Dreke said that Alex had no right attacking you--as you were sleeping due to the drugging spell he'd used on you." Jonathan took a deep breath, then went on. "Anyway, Alex and I fought for a while. I don't know how I held his sword off that long. You and. . . and Uncle. . . and Uncle Gareth are--were--the only ones who could hold his sword off long. And then. . . Then Dreke called him a fool, and knocked Alex down."

Alanna bit down on her lip, feeling angry. Dreke had told her that he wouldn't actually kill Jon. So why had he tried? Was he a liar? A bigger one than Faithful thought. Or was he playing a game? A cruel, twisted game.

"What happened then?" Alanna asked, gripping Jon's hand in her own.

He took a breath, and went on. "He. . . Alex is dead, Alanna. Dreke killed him then. He drove a sword through his chest. For no reason. They were supposed to be on the same team! Things are bad when the men you're fighting start killing each other." Alanna saw tears on his face, and bit back her own. Gingerly she wiped the glistening tears off Jon's face. He turned his head to meet her eyes, and said, "Then he told me that Kirasarra is helping Roger."

Alanna shivered. "I know."

"You know? But how?"

"Kirasarra told me who she was too. She told me that Roger was trying to harness dangerous powers. And she was helping him so she could use them too. But I don't think she means to help him for forever. She's using him. I think she'll have enough power soon." Alanna bit her lip. Should she tell him? Yes. It was the right thing to do. "I had a dream last night. . ."

"And?" Jon prompted, when she didn't continue.

"I was in a weird place. The top of a peak. Tortall was spread out like a map below. And Corus was cloaked with yellow, orange, and storm gray magic. The orange has got to be Roger. The yellow's probably the man who used magic at Duke Gareth's death. Nicholas. And. . . George was in the dream. He helped me. Together we figured out that the storm gray magic was probably belonging to Dreke. George said he was shrouded in fog. And afterwards. . . I woke up and talked to Dreke. He wants me to help him. He doesn't want Roger on the throne. There are so many people he wants to kill. But you aren't one of them. He said he had no intention of killing you."

But he tried. Alanna turned to see Faithful washing a paw on the floor. When you saw Jonathan the first time he was covered in gray magic. Around his wounds. How is that not trying to kill him?

"You have a point," Alanna murmured, reaching out to stroke her cat's head.

"Alright, Alanna." Jon yawned. "I'm tired now. I'm going to go back to sleep. We'll talk more when I have enough energy to digest this all. C'mere."

Alanna leaned down, pushing her shoulder-length red hair behind her ear. Jon's breath tickled her face. He smiled, brushing more of her hair back. Jon put his hand on the back of her head, and leaned her face down to his. Their lips met with sweet passion. Alanna's heart soared as Jon wrapped his other arm around her neck. She balanced herself against the bed, one hand on either side of his head.

After a few minutes Alanna pulled back. Jon pulled her head down to his, and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered. "No matter what happens, I always love you."

Alanna smirked, and kissed the tip of Jon's nose. "Bad boys have to go to bed. Bad boys aren't allowed to make love. Particularly not when they're injured and have bandages wrapped all over them."

Jon grinned, ruffling Alanna's hair. "Alright then. See you." He smiled. His eyes fluttered shut, and he waved.

Alanna scooped Faithful into her arms and kissed the purring cat's head. "Let's go," she whispered, walking through the door and into the main healing room.

Sorry it was short, but I needed that filler. I'm having a hard time getting back into this story, hopefully next chapter will be good. Thanks for toughing it out. P.S. have you rabid Jon fans read "Animals" yet? Yes, Erin, I know you have. And a note from Erin (tortallanrider), my new beta. (tee hee. I'd love to insert a beta note there: Go read "Animals", because it is extraordinary…even if you AREN'T a rabid Jon lover like myself, it is still extraordinary because of the writing.)