Post by Seek on Apr 14, 2013 3:11:25 GMT 10
Title: Verdant II
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 545 words.
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: AU. Alanna and Jon talk about the green knight.
Warnings: Allusion to beheading.
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Alanna slipped into Jon's study, once the Midwinter feast was done, excusing herself to follow the King as he left. The axe had been hung up in a place of honour with the fief banners, 'as a testament to the wonder we have seen,' Jon had said, for hadn't they been looking for amusement on Midwinter's Day?
She let herself in; the door wasn't locked, although she and Gary each had a key to Jon's study. No one else did, not even Thayet. "Whatever it was," Jon said, turning troubled eyes to her, "It wasn't anything I've known a man to do with the Gift."
"Not even with what Thom did?" Alanna forced herself to ask, even though the scars were too raw, too fresh. Jon shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "He had to raise Roger, and we know Roger was under the Sorcerer's Sleep. There was nothing of that sort. He just...picked up his head and walked."
"There was magic involved," Alanna said. "I saw it. Bright verdant green, all around him. But what it is..."
"I don't know," Jon said, frustrated. "I've never heard anything like that before. Nor read of it, and there's much in the palace library. Will you speak to George and see if he knows anything of it? I'll send a rider to the Mithran Masters." He drew in a deep breath. "Alanna. Thank you."
Alanna said, "Jon. I'm your Champion. He was trying to pick a fight. If I didn't step up, who would?" And he had. Jon almost had, despite being the King. She knew he couldn't have. The King couldn't put himself into danger at the drop of a hat. That was what knights did. He had a kingdom to run, and no apparent heir, now that Roger was dead. It would be full civil war if Jon died.
"You're also my friend," Jon said. "And I wanted you to know that." She placed her hand on his arm for a long moment, and he didn't move away. "The other question is, why?"
"Why he came here with his game?"
"Yes. He didn't sound foreign, though he's tall enough to be a Scanran."
"Perhaps he's from Tusaine," Alanna thought, aloud. She thought of Dain of Melor, and she'd championed Tortall at Jon's bidding back then. How little some things had changed. "Or even Galla--they're close enough to Scanra, as it is."
Jon frowned. "No, have you heard their accents? They're rather strong. I couldn't tell it from his Common."
"Well, e'll find out soon enough," Alanna said, thinking of the deadly promise. A year and a day. She hid that shiver of fear, wondering how she would even find the Green Chapel.
If Jon could read her well enough to see that fear, he said nothing about it, merely, "You're going?"
"Yes," Alanna said. "I gave my word." She smiled. "Don't worry, Jon. I've got every intention of coming back. Wouldn't be a good Champion if I got myself killed by a green knight."
Jon made a face. "I'm not sure George is a good influence," he murmured. "Your sense of humour's definitely changed for the worse."
Alanna elbowed him. Hard.
He sobered. "Lioness. Take care of yourself."
"I always do," Alanna murmured.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 545 words.
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: AU. Alanna and Jon talk about the green knight.
Warnings: Allusion to beheading.
-
Alanna slipped into Jon's study, once the Midwinter feast was done, excusing herself to follow the King as he left. The axe had been hung up in a place of honour with the fief banners, 'as a testament to the wonder we have seen,' Jon had said, for hadn't they been looking for amusement on Midwinter's Day?
She let herself in; the door wasn't locked, although she and Gary each had a key to Jon's study. No one else did, not even Thayet. "Whatever it was," Jon said, turning troubled eyes to her, "It wasn't anything I've known a man to do with the Gift."
"Not even with what Thom did?" Alanna forced herself to ask, even though the scars were too raw, too fresh. Jon shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "He had to raise Roger, and we know Roger was under the Sorcerer's Sleep. There was nothing of that sort. He just...picked up his head and walked."
"There was magic involved," Alanna said. "I saw it. Bright verdant green, all around him. But what it is..."
"I don't know," Jon said, frustrated. "I've never heard anything like that before. Nor read of it, and there's much in the palace library. Will you speak to George and see if he knows anything of it? I'll send a rider to the Mithran Masters." He drew in a deep breath. "Alanna. Thank you."
Alanna said, "Jon. I'm your Champion. He was trying to pick a fight. If I didn't step up, who would?" And he had. Jon almost had, despite being the King. She knew he couldn't have. The King couldn't put himself into danger at the drop of a hat. That was what knights did. He had a kingdom to run, and no apparent heir, now that Roger was dead. It would be full civil war if Jon died.
"You're also my friend," Jon said. "And I wanted you to know that." She placed her hand on his arm for a long moment, and he didn't move away. "The other question is, why?"
"Why he came here with his game?"
"Yes. He didn't sound foreign, though he's tall enough to be a Scanran."
"Perhaps he's from Tusaine," Alanna thought, aloud. She thought of Dain of Melor, and she'd championed Tortall at Jon's bidding back then. How little some things had changed. "Or even Galla--they're close enough to Scanra, as it is."
Jon frowned. "No, have you heard their accents? They're rather strong. I couldn't tell it from his Common."
"Well, e'll find out soon enough," Alanna said, thinking of the deadly promise. A year and a day. She hid that shiver of fear, wondering how she would even find the Green Chapel.
If Jon could read her well enough to see that fear, he said nothing about it, merely, "You're going?"
"Yes," Alanna said. "I gave my word." She smiled. "Don't worry, Jon. I've got every intention of coming back. Wouldn't be a good Champion if I got myself killed by a green knight."
Jon made a face. "I'm not sure George is a good influence," he murmured. "Your sense of humour's definitely changed for the worse."
Alanna elbowed him. Hard.
He sobered. "Lioness. Take care of yourself."
"I always do," Alanna murmured.