Author's Note: I should probably learn how to channel the energy I have for fan-fiction into all the essays I have to write. Oh, well! Tamora Pierce is the mastermind criminal; I'm just a copy-cat (in a totally non-copyright-infringement-way).

Chapter 16: The Fall of the Rogue

Clean and fresh, Alanna made her way to Jon's chambers. When she had come to, Baird had given her a message from Jon to meet him later. She hoped that whatever he wanted to talk about would be brief. She hurt a lot, especially her shoulder. Baird had said that it wouldn't take too long to heal, but she would only be allowed to do gentle exercises.

No one returned the knock, so she pushed open the door. It appeared that Jon was not there. She rolled her eyes, and walked over to the window. She could see into the torch-lit courtyard, where the party from Tusaine was quickly saddling their horses. They had chosen not to stay on the hospitality of the queen and king, especially a queen with a bite.

She was replaying her battle with him over in her head, feeling the tiredness of her muscles. She had won again, re-proven herself in the eyes of the court. She felt empowered, ready to take on the world again—and by the world, those old conservative know-it-alls. She sighed, feeling the need to go on an adventure. To find another meaningful object, like the Dominion Jewel…which now lay in some secure chamber, unused and basically forgotten. This duel had not only brought back memories, but it had brought back her thirst for adventure, her drive for excitement, her need for life beyond Corus and skirts and titles and diplomacy.

In the window pane, she examined her re-developed black eye. Once the duel was over, Thom had removed the spell. She knew he wouldn't have kept it; he was much too vain about his looks. Anything to make him appear less than the great Master he was he treated with disdain. Looking back, she was surprised that Dain hadn't noticed it, but then again, a black eye was the least of his worries. She giggled to herself, a warm, giddy, victorious feeling washing over her.

"Alanna?"

She started and whirled around to see if the reflection in the glass was true.

George Cooper was standing in the doorway.

"George? What—what are you doing here?" She found the breath was gone from her lungs and her heart was hammering. Her eyes raked over him trying to understand why he was here. Then she saw his hand clutching his stomach and the blood he was trying to hide. "What happened? Who did this to you?" She flew to his side, helping him to sit. Her hands fluttered over him, wanting to help him, to heal him, but afraid to touch him.

"Claw. He…"

"Shh, don't talk. I need you to lean back. I'll heal you right now."

George closed his eyes and leaned back. "I shouldn't let you…Heard about Melor."

"I told you hush. You need fixing and if you're fool to come all the way here, you'll listen up."

"You can't waste your Gift on me." His eyes were closed, his face very pale. "You've got to heal."

"It's not wasting on you, you oaf!" the worried queen cried, all thoughts besides caring for her friend flown from her mind. "I'd give my life for you—"

"Don't say that," he whispered. "Don't say things that you don't mean."

"I do mean it, with all my heart," Alanna protested. She tried to meet George's eyes, but he would not look at her. "George—"

"George." Jonathan entered the room. "What happened?"

George raised his head. "Claw... attacked. Poison… Hired…doxie…to kill me. Didn't work. But…I lost."

"What do you mean you lost?" Alanna cried. Jon gave her a stern look.

"Alanna, if you're going to be hysterical, leave."

His tone was so harsh that it made Alanna's eyes water. She crossed her arms and faced her husband. "My being hysterical is the least of your worries."

Jon's glare could have killed, but Alanna refused to look away.

"Leave."

"No."

"Alanna, I said 'leave.'"

"I said 'no.'"

"As your king, I command you to obey me."

Alanna's eyes narrowed. "As your queen, I refuse. I am no longer just a knight sworn fealty. I am your wife and co-ruler. He is my friend, too."

George smiled faintly.

Jon scowled, very much like his teenage self. "Fine. George…"

George held up a bloody hand. "Claw… going to kill… my people… if I did not promise… to give up… Rogue." Alanna bit her lap, questions bubbling up. She contented herself with wiping the blood from his chest with a towel. "I…had no choice. Claw…is Rogue."

Claw is Rogue. Alanna felt her heart sink in her chest. The world was truly turning upside down. George had held the reins of the Court of the Rogue since she was eleven, he seventeen. And now it was in the hands of Claw. Or Ralon of Malven as George and Myles had discovered. It seemed like her old nemeses were just popping up all over the place.

"Alanna," Jon said softly. "I need to speak with George alone. I promise that, if he's up for it, you can speak with George again. Please."

Alanna wanted to argue, needed to argue. This was George, the one friend she had always been able to count on. She couldn't just leave him here. He'd lost so much; she needed to be here with him. She looked at George, saw his exhaustion. She looked at Jon, saw his determination.

"I'm going to get Baird."

With that, she left the room.

She intercepted Duke Baird before he was about to retire for the evening, and relayed the message that there was an injured man. The good man hurried off. Alanna followed behind, only to have the door shut in her face. She considered breaking it down, but knew the row it would cause would be great.

She tried to comfort herself pacing back and forth for about an hour, but still no one emerged. Finally, around midnight, she retreated back to her rooms. She had Midwinter gifts for Kalasin and Thomas she still needed to wrap in cloth. She proceeded to do so, wrapping and re-wrapping, so that the presents were so tightly parceled it would take the twins a good hour to discover what delights had been given to them for Midwinter.

Dawn came and went. She returned to pace outside Jon's chambers. Finally, she gave up and pounded on the door.

"Let me in, gods curse you! You can't just ignore me—"

"Stop roaring, Lioness."

She whirled around to see George leaning against the opposite wall. His shirt was open and she could see the bandaged wrapped around his chest. He held up a hand to stop her from throwing herself at him.

"I'm fine, lass. You royals have a good staff of healin' folk."

"Duke Baird of Queenscove is the finest. He already patched me up today."

"So I heard. Who put the fool idea of you tryin' t' fight a man when you've not touched a sword for months?"

"It was my own idea. He challenged me because I beat him as a squire."

"That knight? The Tusaine?" George chuckled. "Talk about comin' back to bite yer behind."

"It's Jon's own fault I fought him in the first place. It would've been bad for him if the idiot killed me."

George's expression immediately sobered. "It would've been bad for all of us if you were dead." Alanna's heart skipped a beat as he drew closer. "You cut your hair again." He reached out tentatively and fingered the short copper locks. Alanna's breath grew short as the edges of his callused fingers accidentally brushed the side of her face. Then something cold and metal touched the side of her neck. Alanna yanked her head away to look at his hand and the simple band on his fourth finger.

"You're—you're married." George nodded, his hazel eyes fixed on hers. "Well…congratulations. Who is she?"

"A city lass. Her name is Elina."

"Gods bless you both." Alanna was numb and was fighting the urge to cry. Had he felt the same way when she had married Jon? George had gotten married. The realization went down like swallowing broken glass.

"Alanna." His tone was soft, but she wouldn't look at him. She couldn't make him regret this woman because she was an idiot. She had married someone else, blindly, stupidly, but she was not allowed to feel pain that the man she had hurt had done so as well. It was only right that he had moved on. "She's not you, lass. I—"

"George, I wish you and your wife well." Her words were grossly formal. "I—I need to go."

"Don't you want to know if I'm going to recover?" His sharp tone made her look at him. His eyes were angry, bitter, hurt. Her own eyes widened at the powerful, hard emotions. Tears that appeared to be violet rose in her eyes.

"Will you live a long life, George? Have you cheated death again?"

"I have. Baird tells me that you have too. We'll both live very long lives yet, Goddess willing."

Two very long lives, lived apart from each other, Alanna thought.

You are upsetting her, thief, meowed a voice from the shadows. Faithful appeared from the shadows. He fixed his purple gaze on George and proceeded to lecture him. At least, it sounded like a lecture, an impressive one at that, but Alanna could only guess. For the first time, Faithful spoke to someone and shut her out. She knew they were speaking of her because George kept glancing at her. Finally, sick of being left out, she turned to walk away when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Alanna, I'm sorry."

"For what?" she snapped, tired and cranky. It didn't help that George was touching her bad shoulder.

"A lot of things," he whispered. His eyes were dry, but his cheeks were wet. "I'm sorry if I ever tried to tame you. You will never be tamed, my Lioness." With a kiss on the cheek, he smiled. "If I remember correctly, it's your turn to walk away from me."

Alanna stared at him, willing her feet to run. "I…I can't." She couldn't turn her back on this man that she loved with her whole being. She had turned her back on him one too many times; her time with him was too precious.

George groaned, wishing to catch her up in his arms and carry her far away from this place. But his life had gone downhill and he would now have to find a place in his now-upside-down world. He may have promised Claw that he would not challenge him for the kingship, but he would be damned before he let Claw rule the downtrodden of the City. He'd find a way to get rid of Ralon of Malven, for safety of his own family and for the safety of the redheaded woman before him. Faithful had called him a thief, but Alanna was more a thief. She had stolen his heart and he just could never get it back.

"Try, lass. I'm sure you can. It's my turn to be someone new."

Alanna's heart felt as if he had stabbed it. She had become a queen and now he was no longer a king.

"Good luck, George," was all she managed to say before he walked away.

I'm not terribly fond of this chapter, but it's necessary. What do you think?