Post by Rosie on Feb 6, 2017 21:21:38 GMT 10
Title: Finding Alan
Rating: PG
Prompt: Fake It Till You Make It (#125)
Summary: The boys have no idea how to treat Alanna when she returns to Corus, but they all pretend to be friends anyway.
--
Douglass had never considered the possibility that somebody who had walked the world, fought with demons, and conversed with gods would have difficulty speaking to their former friends.
She did, though. She had a certain way of standing and of clasping her hands behind her back, that said she was not to be approached.
And so they did not approach her.
Instead, she found them.
They weren’t doing anything special. Sacherell was sitting at the foot of Douglass’s bed, Douglass was sprawled over every other inch of it, and Geoffrey was lounging in the window-seat. They had spent their spare afternoons as pages and squires here, though Alan and Geoffrey hadn’t always been present, being too preoccupied with their respective knight-masters.
“Gary, we’ve told you that you’re not allowed in until we see you make a formal application for Jon’s hand,” Douglass said lazily, not bothering to look up.
“Is that what’s been going on in my absence?”
The three men shot to their feet. “Alan- na!”
“I don’t have to make any formal applications, do I?”
The joke was weak, and Douglass winced. They knew that something had happened between Jon and Alanna, without knowing quite what that something was. He shrugged at her, settling back into his former position.
An uncomfortable silence passed, and Alanna seated herself in Douglass’s large armchair.
“Look, Alanna, I know you’ve been desperate to get your hands on him for years, but did you really need to make such an obvious pass at him?”
Alanna’s cheeks reddened at this comment and her lip drew up in a curl, the image of their old friend’s most disdainful expression. “I am-”
“Sitting on Lord Theodore,” Sacherell informed her, flicking through his book. “Don’t mind Douglass. He hasn’t changed.”
Alanna reached behind her and pulled out the bear. She smiled fondly, running her fingers over his glassy eyes. “Don’t tell me this is the same one.”
Sacherell snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alanna. You know how quickly he went through them.” He cleared his throat, shooting Douglass a nervous look. “Er. That is to say, you know personally. We’re sorry, Alanna, but we had to tell Douglass that it was you who put Lord Theodore the First in that swamp...”
“Lord Theodore the Second in the soup...” Geoffrey continued.
“Lord Theodore the Third outside the Chamber of the Ordeal...”
“Lord Theodore the Fourth under the ice...”
“Lord Theodore the Fifth-” Here, Sacherell hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we accept that you probably had nothing to do with Lord Theodore the Fifth’s disappearance, since you were apparently in a fight to the death at the time.”
Douglass coughed, remembering the fate of Lord Theodore the Fifth and hoping there would not be any speculation. “You’re forgiven,” he told Alanna graciously. “But I’ll be having that one back, if you don’t mind.”
Alanna tossed the bear over to him. She leaned back in her chair, watching them carefully, and Douglass’s hands clenched unbidden. He did not like being scrutinised in such a fashion, but he didn’t want to tell her so.
In truth, Douglass had no idea how to treat women unless they were Gwynnen, and that was only because Gwynnen told him exactly how she wanted to be treated. He debated about telling Alanna that he’d missed her, but decided against it in case she burst into tears or something.
“No wives, then?” Alanna asked, drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair.
Douglass and Sacherell exchanged a look, and Geoffrey replied, “No. Sacherell’s too into mounting his desk.”
“Geoffrey enjoys mounting horses,” Sacherell shot back.
“And Douglass favours mounting his teddy bear,” Geoffrey finished, raising his eyebrows at the young man in question, who dropped the offending bear immediately.
“Where’s your wife then, Alanna?” Douglass enquired, arching an eyebrow at her and smirking. She wasn’t armed. He wasn’t afraid of her – well, unless she started crying.
Astonishingly, Alanna didn’t flush, didn’t leap out of her seat and pour out all the swearwords she was acquainted with (which amounted to a fair few). Alanna tipped back her head and laughed.
Women. What could you do with them?
“Haven’t managed to make an honest woman out of her yet,” she replied, grinning.
Always one to push his luck, Douglass pressed on. “Ah, but has somebody managed to make an honest woman out of you? Or even – say – a dishonest woman?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Douglass,” Alanna said in a warning tone.
There. She was still Alan after all.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Fake It Till You Make It (#125)
Summary: The boys have no idea how to treat Alanna when she returns to Corus, but they all pretend to be friends anyway.
--
Douglass had never considered the possibility that somebody who had walked the world, fought with demons, and conversed with gods would have difficulty speaking to their former friends.
She did, though. She had a certain way of standing and of clasping her hands behind her back, that said she was not to be approached.
And so they did not approach her.
Instead, she found them.
They weren’t doing anything special. Sacherell was sitting at the foot of Douglass’s bed, Douglass was sprawled over every other inch of it, and Geoffrey was lounging in the window-seat. They had spent their spare afternoons as pages and squires here, though Alan and Geoffrey hadn’t always been present, being too preoccupied with their respective knight-masters.
“Gary, we’ve told you that you’re not allowed in until we see you make a formal application for Jon’s hand,” Douglass said lazily, not bothering to look up.
“Is that what’s been going on in my absence?”
The three men shot to their feet. “Alan- na!”
“I don’t have to make any formal applications, do I?”
The joke was weak, and Douglass winced. They knew that something had happened between Jon and Alanna, without knowing quite what that something was. He shrugged at her, settling back into his former position.
An uncomfortable silence passed, and Alanna seated herself in Douglass’s large armchair.
“Look, Alanna, I know you’ve been desperate to get your hands on him for years, but did you really need to make such an obvious pass at him?”
Alanna’s cheeks reddened at this comment and her lip drew up in a curl, the image of their old friend’s most disdainful expression. “I am-”
“Sitting on Lord Theodore,” Sacherell informed her, flicking through his book. “Don’t mind Douglass. He hasn’t changed.”
Alanna reached behind her and pulled out the bear. She smiled fondly, running her fingers over his glassy eyes. “Don’t tell me this is the same one.”
Sacherell snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alanna. You know how quickly he went through them.” He cleared his throat, shooting Douglass a nervous look. “Er. That is to say, you know personally. We’re sorry, Alanna, but we had to tell Douglass that it was you who put Lord Theodore the First in that swamp...”
“Lord Theodore the Second in the soup...” Geoffrey continued.
“Lord Theodore the Third outside the Chamber of the Ordeal...”
“Lord Theodore the Fourth under the ice...”
“Lord Theodore the Fifth-” Here, Sacherell hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, we accept that you probably had nothing to do with Lord Theodore the Fifth’s disappearance, since you were apparently in a fight to the death at the time.”
Douglass coughed, remembering the fate of Lord Theodore the Fifth and hoping there would not be any speculation. “You’re forgiven,” he told Alanna graciously. “But I’ll be having that one back, if you don’t mind.”
Alanna tossed the bear over to him. She leaned back in her chair, watching them carefully, and Douglass’s hands clenched unbidden. He did not like being scrutinised in such a fashion, but he didn’t want to tell her so.
In truth, Douglass had no idea how to treat women unless they were Gwynnen, and that was only because Gwynnen told him exactly how she wanted to be treated. He debated about telling Alanna that he’d missed her, but decided against it in case she burst into tears or something.
“No wives, then?” Alanna asked, drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair.
Douglass and Sacherell exchanged a look, and Geoffrey replied, “No. Sacherell’s too into mounting his desk.”
“Geoffrey enjoys mounting horses,” Sacherell shot back.
“And Douglass favours mounting his teddy bear,” Geoffrey finished, raising his eyebrows at the young man in question, who dropped the offending bear immediately.
“Where’s your wife then, Alanna?” Douglass enquired, arching an eyebrow at her and smirking. She wasn’t armed. He wasn’t afraid of her – well, unless she started crying.
Astonishingly, Alanna didn’t flush, didn’t leap out of her seat and pour out all the swearwords she was acquainted with (which amounted to a fair few). Alanna tipped back her head and laughed.
Women. What could you do with them?
“Haven’t managed to make an honest woman out of her yet,” she replied, grinning.
Always one to push his luck, Douglass pressed on. “Ah, but has somebody managed to make an honest woman out of you? Or even – say – a dishonest woman?”
“I don’t know what you mean, Douglass,” Alanna said in a warning tone.
There. She was still Alan after all.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!