Post by wordy on Oct 28, 2009 20:51:31 GMT 10
Title: Traitor
Rating: PG
Prompt: #14 Happily Ever After
Summary: Sometimes facing the choice you have made is difficult, and sometimes that choice only makes things more difficult for someone else. An alternative ending to LR.
"He's not talking to me, Jon," Myles said quietly, turning his shoulder to the others in the room. Frown lines appeared on Jonathon's forehead, though in all other aspects he looked calm and collected.
"What do you suggest?" Jon asked, keeping his voice at the same level as Myles'. Alanna kept her eyes on the goblet she held in her hand, listening from a few feet away. In one corner of the small room, Gary and Raoul were whispering furiously. She didn't know what that was about, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
It had been two days since Jonathon's coronation; his friends and advisors had been busy cleaning up the throne room and coaxing all who witnessed the event back into some semblance of tranquility. There was, however, one problem that was holding them back.
The dungeons were rarely used for nobles, but Gary and Raoul had insisted quite vehemently. And it was difficult to argue with two large knights when they refused to back down.
Alanna had not visited him; not because she was afraid, but because she had mixed feelings about the decision she had made. After all, if she had only done her duty as expected, there wouldn't be a problem now.
"Have you asked her?" Myles' voice drifted over, waking Alanna from her thoughts. She felt her shoulders stiffen; they were talking about her. A particularly loud outburst from Raoul stopped her from hearing Jon's reply, but when she raised her eyes, her king was watching her.
The guard turned the key in the lock, swinging the door open for her to enter. Dark eyes penetrated hers in the the dim light of the cell, sending a shiver up her spine. They had always teased that he was too much like a cat.
"Alex."
"Alanna." His voice was steady, almost relaxed. There was something mocking in the way he had said her name though, which she assumed was still to do with the fact that she - a woman - had beaten him at fencing. And Roger too, a voice reminded her. She ignored it - Roger had plagued her for too long, she was determined to forget about him now that he was finally dead again.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the slim form of Alex of Tirragen came into focus. He was seated on the cold stone floor, still in his black clothes from two days ago. Alanna noticed that his wounds had been tended to. As she stepped inside the cell and waved the guard away, he examined her from beneath half-lidded eyes. Her mouth was suddenly dry as paper.
He must have realised that she couldn't bring herself to speak, as he gave a heavy sigh ran a hair through his dark hair. "Why are you here. Surely you've tortured me enough already," he said, meaning their duel.
Alanna looked down at him, purple eyes hard. "The King has asked me to speak to you."
"Ah, of course. You are his 'favourite'," he interrupted her, laughing wryly.
"I am his Champion, yes. And if you refuse to speak to Sir Myles, then you won't get a fair trial."
Alex looked down at his hands. Alanna noticed for the first time that he wasn't restrained in any way - the shackles hung limp from their bolts on the wall.
"You have to talk to them Alex," she said when he hadn't replied. It felt strange to say his name, now that he was...what? The bad guy?
Alex laughed again, but this time there was something dark and sad about it. His mouth tightened at the corners. "What's the point."
"You'll get a fair trial..."
"And then what? I'll swing for treason. It doesn't matter."
Alanna frowned. "Of course it matters. Don't you want people to know your side of the story? Don't you want Jon to know?"
"Would it make a difference."
She couldn't lie to him. He wasn't an idiot either: he had done wrong, after all, and telling the truth wouldn't excuse it or make anyone feel better.
"I didn't think so," he said, voice bitter.
"Well, maybe you could at least let them know that you regret what you did. Clear your conscience?"
"Oh, but I don't," he said. Alanna looked at him - surely he couldn't mean that? "I regret that we didn't succeed, and that Roger is dead. Even...yes, even Thom's death."
She shook her head and shut her eyes for a moment, trying to dislodge the headache-like feeling that had overcome her. Her anger was building quickly. "How - how can you say that?"
He looked at her, and for the first time since she met him in their youth, she didn't recognise the person before her. Even when he had almost killed her during her training, and when they had been duelling in the catacombs; it had still been Alex fighting her, a man who she had thought was her friend, and it had hurt and confused her. But now - she felt nothing. This wasn't the Alex she once knew.
Her temper was boiling to exploding point now, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. She turned to leave; facing him was worse than she had imagined it could be, and for all the wrong reasons.
"Where are you going?" he called. His voice sounded different. Looking back over her shoulder, he had stood up and was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. In the light that filtered in from the corridor, he looked a mess.
"I know a hopeless case when I see one," was all she said.
"So you're just going to leave me?" he seemed angry and incredulous, "You're going to leave me to face them all, to face the noose?"
She said nothing.
Alex took a step toward her. "This is your fault. If you'd only killed me when you should have - you know you should have!" he yelled, and suddenly she felt frightened. She turned once more to leave.
He had always been quick, it was one of his advantages in fencing. Instinct alerted her to him rushing up behind her though, and she managed to get out of the cell and slam the door shut just in time. The door shook with the impact of his body connecting with it. He sneered at her through the barred window. "You did this to me Alanna. I may have to die with it, but you have to live with it!"
She left. She left him there, in a cell, facing a traitor's death. No glory.
By the time she reached Jonathon's study to report, she had calmed down. Her insides were still churning, but she could present a calm front to her king.
She would live with it.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #14 Happily Ever After
Summary: Sometimes facing the choice you have made is difficult, and sometimes that choice only makes things more difficult for someone else. An alternative ending to LR.
"He's not talking to me, Jon," Myles said quietly, turning his shoulder to the others in the room. Frown lines appeared on Jonathon's forehead, though in all other aspects he looked calm and collected.
"What do you suggest?" Jon asked, keeping his voice at the same level as Myles'. Alanna kept her eyes on the goblet she held in her hand, listening from a few feet away. In one corner of the small room, Gary and Raoul were whispering furiously. She didn't know what that was about, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.
It had been two days since Jonathon's coronation; his friends and advisors had been busy cleaning up the throne room and coaxing all who witnessed the event back into some semblance of tranquility. There was, however, one problem that was holding them back.
The dungeons were rarely used for nobles, but Gary and Raoul had insisted quite vehemently. And it was difficult to argue with two large knights when they refused to back down.
Alanna had not visited him; not because she was afraid, but because she had mixed feelings about the decision she had made. After all, if she had only done her duty as expected, there wouldn't be a problem now.
"Have you asked her?" Myles' voice drifted over, waking Alanna from her thoughts. She felt her shoulders stiffen; they were talking about her. A particularly loud outburst from Raoul stopped her from hearing Jon's reply, but when she raised her eyes, her king was watching her.
***
The guard turned the key in the lock, swinging the door open for her to enter. Dark eyes penetrated hers in the the dim light of the cell, sending a shiver up her spine. They had always teased that he was too much like a cat.
"Alex."
"Alanna." His voice was steady, almost relaxed. There was something mocking in the way he had said her name though, which she assumed was still to do with the fact that she - a woman - had beaten him at fencing. And Roger too, a voice reminded her. She ignored it - Roger had plagued her for too long, she was determined to forget about him now that he was finally dead again.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the slim form of Alex of Tirragen came into focus. He was seated on the cold stone floor, still in his black clothes from two days ago. Alanna noticed that his wounds had been tended to. As she stepped inside the cell and waved the guard away, he examined her from beneath half-lidded eyes. Her mouth was suddenly dry as paper.
He must have realised that she couldn't bring herself to speak, as he gave a heavy sigh ran a hair through his dark hair. "Why are you here. Surely you've tortured me enough already," he said, meaning their duel.
Alanna looked down at him, purple eyes hard. "The King has asked me to speak to you."
"Ah, of course. You are his 'favourite'," he interrupted her, laughing wryly.
"I am his Champion, yes. And if you refuse to speak to Sir Myles, then you won't get a fair trial."
Alex looked down at his hands. Alanna noticed for the first time that he wasn't restrained in any way - the shackles hung limp from their bolts on the wall.
"You have to talk to them Alex," she said when he hadn't replied. It felt strange to say his name, now that he was...what? The bad guy?
Alex laughed again, but this time there was something dark and sad about it. His mouth tightened at the corners. "What's the point."
"You'll get a fair trial..."
"And then what? I'll swing for treason. It doesn't matter."
Alanna frowned. "Of course it matters. Don't you want people to know your side of the story? Don't you want Jon to know?"
"Would it make a difference."
She couldn't lie to him. He wasn't an idiot either: he had done wrong, after all, and telling the truth wouldn't excuse it or make anyone feel better.
"I didn't think so," he said, voice bitter.
"Well, maybe you could at least let them know that you regret what you did. Clear your conscience?"
"Oh, but I don't," he said. Alanna looked at him - surely he couldn't mean that? "I regret that we didn't succeed, and that Roger is dead. Even...yes, even Thom's death."
She shook her head and shut her eyes for a moment, trying to dislodge the headache-like feeling that had overcome her. Her anger was building quickly. "How - how can you say that?"
He looked at her, and for the first time since she met him in their youth, she didn't recognise the person before her. Even when he had almost killed her during her training, and when they had been duelling in the catacombs; it had still been Alex fighting her, a man who she had thought was her friend, and it had hurt and confused her. But now - she felt nothing. This wasn't the Alex she once knew.
Her temper was boiling to exploding point now, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. She turned to leave; facing him was worse than she had imagined it could be, and for all the wrong reasons.
"Where are you going?" he called. His voice sounded different. Looking back over her shoulder, he had stood up and was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. In the light that filtered in from the corridor, he looked a mess.
"I know a hopeless case when I see one," was all she said.
"So you're just going to leave me?" he seemed angry and incredulous, "You're going to leave me to face them all, to face the noose?"
She said nothing.
Alex took a step toward her. "This is your fault. If you'd only killed me when you should have - you know you should have!" he yelled, and suddenly she felt frightened. She turned once more to leave.
He had always been quick, it was one of his advantages in fencing. Instinct alerted her to him rushing up behind her though, and she managed to get out of the cell and slam the door shut just in time. The door shook with the impact of his body connecting with it. He sneered at her through the barred window. "You did this to me Alanna. I may have to die with it, but you have to live with it!"
She left. She left him there, in a cell, facing a traitor's death. No glory.
By the time she reached Jonathon's study to report, she had calmed down. Her insides were still churning, but she could present a calm front to her king.
She would live with it.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!