Author's Note: I suppose I should inform you that I do not write smut. So if that's what you're looking for, then go find a new fic. Mine is rated "M" because there is frank discussion of the topic and insinuation, but no explicitness.

Now that that's out of the way, please enjoy Chapter 8, in which Alanna and Jon are made rulers of Tortall, the land that Tamora Pierce created out of the brilliancy of her mind.

Chapter 8: Queen Alanna

September 439 H.E.

Because Alanna lied and said that she was experiencing the women's cycles, they did not lie together. They slept together, literally, curled up in bed, just talking. She felt better, just talking to Jon, because she didn't have to force emotions that she didn't feel. She could talk to him, just as she always did, when they were best friends without a care in the world. She noticed how Jon seemed to lean on her, like she was a crutch keeping him upright. She was glad that she could be there for him this way, but underneath it all, there still was that forged bond of matrimony between them. However, when they just sprawled out across the bed together or rode horseback together, she pretended it was just them, just Jon and Alanna, just friends. And that was nice. But their "honeymoon" drew to a close and they had to return to the public eye of the court.

And the coronation was looming closer.

The only thing, besides her friendship with Jon, that is keeping her from running away this time, with more preparations and fittings and lectures she had to endure, was the mantra she took to repeating to herself: It's the right thing for Tortall. It's the right thing for Tortall. She was sacrificing herself for the good of the people, a good monarch did that. It's for Tortall. Faithful teased her about it, saying that she sounded like a loony muttering under her breath. But she kept saying it over and over, whenever a lord approached her or Roger taunted her or Jon kissed her or Thayet slyly asked her how her evenings were or Gary and Raoul tried to make her cross swords with Alex or anything else that got under her skin. It was surprising how many things got under her skin these days.

Domestic bliss was not what she considered her marriage to Jon, but at this point, she had accepted it. She was the wife of the soon-to-be-king, but to ease her mind, she had redefined the term "wife" in her head. Now, it was more of a lifelong friend and confidante…who slept in the same bed. At least no one had tried to limit her as a knight. She reveled in her early-morning exercises and her noon rides on Moonlight and her early afternoon jousting practice and her late afternoon archery practice and her evening exercises. The physical work reminded her that in some small fraction she controlled herself. She set this rigorous schedule and she kept to it. It also was the kind of thing where you didn't have to think about anything, just concentrate on the muscles and patterns and movement.

The best consolation, however, was her plan to leave about a month after the coronation. Jon had promised that she'd still be able to roam. Alanna couldn't leave during the month between the wedding and the coronation. If she could, the moment they set the crown on her head, she'd be gone (or before then). But she knew that it was her duty to at least stay for a little while—that little while she decided was a month. But once that month was up, Alanna was going to gather Coram and Faithful and Moonlight and Buri and leave. Buri had cabin fever almost the same way Alanna did, and the two talked endlessly of nothing else but where they would like to go. Alanna had a feeling that Jon would insist on her having more guards, but as long as she was out of Corus, she didn't care.

All that left was the coronation itself. As much preparation had gone into the marriage ceremony, even more went into the coronation. Everything had to be perfect at the crowning the most unusual pair of monarchs in the history of Tortall. Invitations to all Tortallan nobility and foreign dignitaries had been sent out. New outfits had been ordered and fitted and sewn. Alanna's head was measured for her crown. Coronation practices were held. Alanna could not understand why she had to practice walking to the thrones, bowing before the Priestess of the Temple of the Mother, and having a golden, heavy crown placed on her head. They practiced with crude, wooden ones.

And now, Alanna stood behind the curtain—for the third time—waiting. She hated waiting, but had accepted it as part of her job by now. Only this time Jon was with her, also waiting to be called. He was not on the other side of the curtain; at least she had him. And he was worse than she. He was pacing back and forth, face pale. Up until this moment, Jon had been cool and confident and eager to become king. But now, he looked like he was trying very hard not to throw up. Alanna, too, was fighting nausea.

"Alanna..." Jon whispered, clutching her shoulder.

"Don't you dare be sick on me. Thayet will kill you," Alanna warned.

"I won't," he grinned weakly. Alanna adjusted herself so that she could slide him into a nearby chair. There were no other chairs but a low stool, which she drew over for herself. As Jon slumped in the chair, she softly ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and she watched him relax under her touch. His jaw unclenched and the vein in his temple eased. He looked so like a lost, young child. She looked at him and all her anger and frustration and grudging feelings at him washed away.

"Jon," she whispered, "You will be a great king."

His eyes flew open and he gazed at her.

"Really? You think so?" he asked, his voice suspiciously sharp.

"Yes," she said. "I wouldn't say so if I didn't think so. I wouldn't have married you if I didn't think so."

"That's why you married me? Because I would be a great king?"

Alanna blushed, but did not back away from his gaze. They might as well be honest with each other now. "That's not the only reason. Jon, I know that we've said that we have our own special kind of love, but it's so hard to remember that. It's not the picturesque idea you painted when you proposed the second time. It's a lot harder than I thought. Most of the time I want to hit you for talking me into this. I told you we'd make a mess of things and I was right. But," she paused, seeing Jon's eyebrows crease. "We are friends. And you were—and still are—hurting over your parents. What kind of friend just pats you on the shoulder and tells you to get over it? I did whatever I could to stop the bleeding—it ended up with me agreeing to marry you. I didn't agree totally on selfless terms, but my main reason for it was for you. You are a good person, Jon. You truly care about your subjects, and not just the nobles. 'Johnny' didn't just learn gambling down in the Dancing Dove, you learned people. You have the Bazhir and you have your Gift. You have diplomatic skills that I will never possess and you are a knight. I think you will become one of the greatest kings Tortall has ever seen."

"Alanna—"

"I, on the other hand, will go down as the first female knight-queen. Chances are I will be written out of history books. I don't care. I swore an oath of loyalty to you when I was knighted and I'm keeping it now. I just want you to know that there will times when I will be evil incarnate because I'm telling you right now that I am going to hate being queen."

"Alanna—"

"Jon. There will be times that I am going to hate you and you're going to hate me. And I've come to accept that. But I'm afraid that there will be a point where we won't be able to get over it. We'll just hate each other and then who knows what will happen? But I'm promising you right now that I'm going to try…really hard…and with the Great Merciful Goddess as my witness, I'm going to try not to hate you."

He stared at her, red slowing filling his face. "You're going to hate me? What the hell have I ever done to you that I deserve to be hated? You married me, you had a choice—you weren't forced to!"

"Jon—"

"No, you listen, Alanna! This isn't funny! You can't say these things to me now—this is not the time or the place! I need you behind me—you owe me that—you are bound to agree with me one hundred percent!"

"No, I agreed to honor you. That doesn't mean I'm your personal slave!"

"Alanna!" he roared, sparks flying into his eyes. His pallor disappeared and a fervid emotion appeared across his features. He leapt from the chair and paced away from her, and then paced back, and seized her arms. He opened his mouth to launch into what Alanna was sure would be a terrific tirade, but stopped when he looked at her expression. She was smirking.

"Got you," she smiled.

"What?"

"Pulled you out of your sissiness. You've wanted this for too long to be scared of it now."

"You—you provoked me on purpose?" Jon couldn't believe it.

Alanna grinned sneakily. "What else would have pulled you out of the pet you'd worked yourself into? Myles always said a good dose of anger did a world of good."

"You little—" Alanna just laughed, until Jon had no choice but to throw back his head too. "So none of that was true?" he asked.

"I didn't say that," Alanna said, completely serious now. "It's all true, but I wouldn't have brought it up that way—I just used a little bit of exaggeration."

"You mean—"

"Jon, you can be an arrogant toe-rag, but a healthy dose of confidence is needed, especially for this. And since the Ordeal, you haven't been the same," Alanna said gently.

Jon looked away. Like the Ordeal of Knighthood, the Ordeal of the Crown could not be spoken about to anyone once delivered from the Chamber of the Ordeal. Jon had undergone that Ordeal two days before, and had emerged, silent and triumphant and even more ground-up than he had been for his first Ordeal. Alanna had walked him back to their chamber, and soothed him as best she could. It was hard to comfort someone when wrapped in one's own selfish grief, but Alanna had managed to get him to sleep, only to wake up with him clutching her as hard as he could, shaking. She had woken him up, and a strange puzzling expression had crossed his face when he had recognized her. It was almost like disappointment, Alanna had thought. And since then, his pensive mood had not lifted…until now.

She reached up and stroked his hair. "Jon, I'm just trying to help. I'm not a courtesan, I don't know how to play head games or how to fix everything. I'm being honest as I can—and trying to be the best for you I can be."

Jon softened as he looked at her. "I know, Alanna, I know. It's just—"

"The Ordeal is supposed to make you remember that there is a lot of pressure being a ruler, and that it's not always good to be the king, and to make you realize being a king you have to be humble, and that you're not perfect, and you don't know everything. And it's done that to you. But now, you need to keep your chin up and prove that you can do this."

Jon sighed, "You're right about what the Chamber is supposed to do, but there was more to it than that—it…it made me relive all the mistakes that I've made, that have affected others' lives, good and bad…and…" Jon stopped, unable by his oath to reveal what exactly the Chamber had shown him.

"Okay. Well, just remember them. Change what happened if you can. Live through what you can't undo," Alanna tried to cheerfully shrug it off, though in the back of her mind she was wondering what the Chamber had shown regarding his decision to marry her.

Jon nodded but was spared saying anything by the blast of trumpet, signaling his time to descend. Quickly, he pulled her to him and hugged her hard; Alanna melted into his embrace. She enjoyed this, partly because he didn't try to kiss her—just hugged her as an equal. "Thank you," he whispered as he disappeared through the curtain.

The second blast of the trumpet signaled Alanna's turn to descend the Grand Stairs to the Throne Room. There, before the thrones, Jon stood before a ring of priests, all representing different gods. The Mithran priest, in his orange robe, held a cushion with Jon's ornate gold crown, while the Priestess of the Goddess held Alanna's. Alanna reached the steps and stood next to Jon. A third blast of music, and Jon and Alanna turned and knelt together. Prayers and incantations and blessings were spoken, beseeching the gods above to bless the reign of Jonathan, to guarantee he would be a wise and fair ruler, to ask that he would have many children (Alanna tried not to grimace), to pray for peace between realms and peoples, etc, etc, etc. Finally, the Mithran priest beckoned Jon to stand.

"By the blessing of the Sun God, Mithros, Lord of the Immortal Realms and son of Father Universe, Jonathan of Conté, son of the beloved King Roald and his Queen Lianne of Conté, Prince-Heir, and Knight of the Realm of Tortall, shall be crowned King of Tortall. May he serve you, great Mithros, and this kingdom and its people humbly and well."

"So mote it be," Jon's booming, strong voice echoed as, in a great show, gold light swirled around Jonathan as the crown was set on his black hair. The ring of the King was slid onto his finger and a burst of Jon's Gift joined the gold.

As the applause died down, Alanna's stomach turned over as the Mithran priest nodded at her. Shakily, she stood. The First Daughter stepped forward and cleared her throat and prayed for Alanna—for Alanna to be an example of womanhood, to have strength in bearing children, to obey her king and husband, to be brave and cool in the face of all obstacles, and to have patience when others suffered trials (Alanna hoped this last one would deliver).

"By the blessing of the Great Merciful Mother, Queen of the Immortal Realms and daughter of Mother Flame, Alanna of Conté, daughter of the deceased Lord Alan of Trebond, sister of Lord Thom of Trebond—Master of Mithran Light, adopted daughter and heir of Myles of Olau, and wife of Jonathan of Conté—in your name, I crown her Queen of Tortall. May she serve the people and kingdom and you, Great Mother, humbly and well."

Alanna looked up and saw, not the First Daughter, but the Goddess herself. Alanna's eyes widened at her benefactress.

"And so, my daughter, we meet again."

Alanna's eyes popped at that great, terrible, beautiful voice. She glanced left and right and realized that time was frozen. No one else was moving.

"My Mother—"

The Goddess held up one fair, perfect hand. "Now is my time to speak, my daughter. You have been my Chosen since the day you were born. When you lost your human mother, I took pity on the purple-eyed, copper-haired, Gifted girl—I saw your greatness from the first moment you drew breath. And I carefully watched you as you grew, and marveled in your incredible determination. I revealed myself to you and sent you the constellation Ailuro to you, to be your guide and companion. And you have come far from our first meeting under the tree. A mother could not have been prouder of you than I—watching as you overcame all obstacles and did so much more than I could have dreamed! You are the first female Knight in more than two centuries and appointed King's Champion—though the Council tries to thwart you by disregarding your title—and now, as queen, you have a legion of changes you are going to command. And slowly, you began to conquer your fears. First of the Ordeal, which you have passed, then of the Duke Roger" –Here the Goddess frowned, as if she disliked the thought that Roger was twice-living— "But your fear of love…my daughter, you have not overcome this."

"Mother, I have had three…affairs," Alanna blushed, "and am now a married woman—"

"Yes, and your love of the prince and the thief and the Shang Dragon were a step in the direction of conquering your fear of love. But, my dear, you did not marry the prince because of love. You feel no love for Jonathan, other than that of friendship—a strong love indeed, but not the love you are frightened of. And indeed, oftentimes, your love for your friend turns bitter and grudge-like, for you are unhappy in this 'love'. You have only aided your phobia by disregarding real love, true love in the face. For this I am disappointed in you, my daughter."

"My mother, I did not mean to disappoint you," Alanna hung her head. The Mother lifted Alanna's chin—her touch was chill and burning, rough and smooth, soothing and irritating.

"You have a noble heart, and had most of the right intentions, Alanna, but they will not lead to your happiness. You will do well as Queen of Tortall, but I fear that you yourself will prove prophetess of the result of your marriage."

"Prophetess? I do not understand."

"Soon you will see, my daughter. I will be always watching over you, my beloved. Good luck." With a kiss on Alanna's forehead, the Goddess departed the Priestess' body and life sprang around Alanna again, as the suspension of time was released. As if nothing had happened, the First Daughter looked at Alanna, waiting for her answer.

More in response to her patroness' visit that her vow, Alanna whispered, "So mote it be." Her heart sank. "So mote it be," she muttered again, under her breath as the crown was placed on her head. The gold crown was heavy, but not as heavy as her heart. The Goddess' visit frightened her, and she clutched her ember, hidden under her dress as the golden magic of the Priestess and Alanna's own violet Gift swirled through the Hall.

Jon took Alanna's hand as music swelled around them and they walked up the five steps to the dais, and together sat on the throne. Jon squeezed her hand, but Alanna only numbly realized it was happening. The Goddess' accusations of her running from love hurt like she had been run through with a sword.

All the priests extended their hands over the couple and invoked one more blessing on them. Then, the herald stepped forward.

"May I present Their Majesties, Jonathan and Alanna, King and Queen of the Realm of Tortall!"

The audience, old and young, clapped, awed by the burst of sapphire and violet Gift that flooded them—over and under and around and through them, inspiring hope and belief that tomorrow would be a better day. At least, that's what it was supposed to do.

And maybe it did, but Queen Alanna did not feel any of that hope.

This is not my favorite chapter, but what do you think of it? Alanna's little stunt pissed me off, but I couldn't stop her :/ REVIEW!