Post by wordy on Aug 9, 2009 14:39:30 GMT 10
Title: Not Quite As Planned
Rating: G
Length: ~1383
Category: Tortall.
Summary: Zahir has his whole career planned out. But when things don't go as planned for Alanna, she sets her eye on a new squire.
Peculiar Pairing: Zahir/Alanna (not in that way)
A/N: I'm not sure this ended quite the way I want it to. It seems like I may have to rewrite/expand it sometime in the future. I'm really intrigued with this pairing though, because of Alanna's experience with the Bazhir and Zahir's preconceptions about women and a lot of other stuff. I also quite like the idea of Zahir as Inness' squire, because of his issues with Kel.
Zahir ibn Alhaz had been looking forward to these next few years of his training, of escaping from the palace and its pettiness.
The real reason he had undergone the past few years was in anticipation of this very moment; in fact, he was feeling rather anxious about the whole situation. Not that he would admit it to anybody. There were few people that really knew him, and he preferred it that way. An introvert by choice, Zahir knew exactly what he wanted in life, and he was well on his way to getting it. He didn’t see the sense in talking about things like that to people who either weren’t listening or didn’t care about anything other than themselves.
One of the first things he required was a knight-master. While it was usual for a knight to choose his squire, Zahir had an entirely different approach. He would choose his own knight-master, one he deemed appropriate for himself and his future career as a knight of Tortall.
This was the most difficult part of his plan, for he couldn’t actually choose his own knight-master, no: he would simply watch a group of select knights that fit his criteria, and once he had singled out the knight that was best matched to himself, he would place himself in the way of the man until he was addressed by him. Thus, he would acquire the perfect knight-master.
Things had been working out rather well so far. He had narrowed down his options until only two suitable choices remained: Sir Paxton of Nond and Sir Inness of Mindelan.
Yes, yes, the brother of the girl. Zahir had mulled over that unfortunate coincidence many times in the past day or so, but the fact still stood that Inness of Mindelan was an inspired swordsman. To excel with the sword was one of Zahir’s aims as a knight. If he were to one day become as renowned for his fencing skills as someone such as Duke Gareth the Elder, then he would know his aim had been reached. Another reason that Inness was a prime candidate was the fact that he was always on duty at one border or another. Broadening one’s horizons—and one’s knowledge of foreign countries—was important if his dreams were to be realised. To have Sir Inness as his knight-master, Zahir decided, was most certainly the better alternative.
A knock on his door early the next morning was an unwelcome interruption. Zahir had only just finished his morning stretches. Tucking his open shirt into his breeches, he went to the door half-expecting it to be one of his friends moaning again. Instead, a servant gave him a letter. Zahir closed the door in the man’s face without a second thought, long hands turning the folded paper over to look at the seal. Cavall.
He continued to dress at his usual pace, slow and measured. A knight was a representative of king and country, and it was appropriate to dress so, with pride. Only when he had combed his shining black hair into place did he turn and examine the letter again. He had intended to get in some tilting practice today, but it could wait. Sir Inness was only due to arrive in three more days.
The letter was brief, no more than a note really, summoning him to the training master’s study at noon. He wondered what it could be about.
In any case, he had a few hours yet until noon. A pile of books on his desk had been staring him down for the last week. He looked at them now with a sigh. A knight’s work was never done.
He could feel a headache coming on, and anyone was yet to speak a word. Lord Wyldon of Cavall, the training master, rubbed his arm and withheld a sigh.
They had been in his office since the eleventh hour, the King and his Champion, glaring at each other and being irritating. The Lioness stalked around the room for what must have been the twentieth time. Wyldon saw now why she had been so named; she was truly fierce, even when she was silent. It was no wonder she and the King got into arguments so often.
“Sit down Alanna, you’re giving me a headache,” King Jonathon snapped suddenly. Alanna merely looked over her shoulder at him, before resuming her examination of Wyldon’s bookcase.
Jonathon looked at Wyldon, as if begging him to do something. Wyldon chose to remain silent. He had been involved with these two before and wished for no further arguments to break out.
Finally, a servant appeared at the door and ushered in Zahir. He was a handsome boy, but perhaps too proud for the calling of a knight. Wyldon watched as the lad stepped forward, looking around at who was gathered. When his eyes registered the form of the King sitting in the chair by Wyldon’s desk, a noticeable change overcame him. Zahir’s back straightened, his chin raised itself a fraction. Wyldon wondered if he had even been so proud when he was that age. The answer? Probably.
“You summoned me, my lord?” Zahir addressed the training master. He was probably still completely unaware of what was going on, Wyldon thought.
“Quite,” Wyldon replied, “His Majesty and Sir Alanna wished to speak with you. I trust you will answer them with respect.”
King Jonathon rose from his chair, smiling. Alanna remained next to the book case, sharp eyes flicking between her king and the boy. If Wyldon knew the Lioness well at all, he would have thought she was nervous.
“The reason we’ve asked you here, Zahir, is it?” Jonathon began. Zahir nodded.
“Well, Zahir, the reason we’ve asked to talk to you,” Jonathon continued, “is because a matter has come up that concerns you, and we thought it best that you had a say about it.” At this, Alanna rolled her eyes.
“I would like you to answer honestly, although you must understand that there is more to discuss than merely—“
“Oh, shutup already Jon,” Alanna interrupted. “Zahir, want do you think of being my squire?”
Zahir was speechless. The Lioness wanted him for her squire. There were so many things running through his head at that moment, it was difficult to think in a straight line. It was because of this woman, this so-called warrior, that girls like the Lump dared to enter page training. Women weren’t supposed to fight! It was...it was barbaric, is what it was! Females running around with the men, showing their faces and hair, doing who knows what...the very idea was chaotic and absurd.
He had been raised properly. But things were so different at the palace, with the girl, and the weird animals, and Immortals and magic and the girl.
A small part of his mind turned his line of thinking down another path. She was King’s Champion. So what if she was a woman? What did it matter that it was completely unnatural? He couldn’t help hear all of the stories during his years as a page, how she had beaten the evil Duke not once, but twice! And she had brought back the Dominion Jewel from the Roof of the World. Not to mention she was unbelievably good with a sword, with either hand! More than that, the Lioness was hardly ever at the palace, or anywhere near Corus. She had been nearly everywhere. Zahir chewed on his bottom lip as he considered.
Sir Inness wouldn’t be back from the border for three days. Even then, there was no guarantee that he would choose him as his squire. His plan to snare Inness as his knight-master certainly had some holes in it.
The King and his Champion were arguing, something about the girl and representing the crown. Zahir hadn’t been paying attention. Lord Wyldon sat at his desk, watching the pair with a tired expression.
“Um, Lioness?” Zahir ventured timidly. The argument looked like it could go on for days. Alanna must have heard him though, for she turned from the King as he was in mid-shout and stepped toward Zahir. He was shocked to see that he was taller than her. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’ll be your squire.”
Rating: G
Length: ~1383
Category: Tortall.
Summary: Zahir has his whole career planned out. But when things don't go as planned for Alanna, she sets her eye on a new squire.
Peculiar Pairing: Zahir/Alanna (not in that way)
A/N: I'm not sure this ended quite the way I want it to. It seems like I may have to rewrite/expand it sometime in the future. I'm really intrigued with this pairing though, because of Alanna's experience with the Bazhir and Zahir's preconceptions about women and a lot of other stuff. I also quite like the idea of Zahir as Inness' squire, because of his issues with Kel.
Zahir ibn Alhaz had been looking forward to these next few years of his training, of escaping from the palace and its pettiness.
The real reason he had undergone the past few years was in anticipation of this very moment; in fact, he was feeling rather anxious about the whole situation. Not that he would admit it to anybody. There were few people that really knew him, and he preferred it that way. An introvert by choice, Zahir knew exactly what he wanted in life, and he was well on his way to getting it. He didn’t see the sense in talking about things like that to people who either weren’t listening or didn’t care about anything other than themselves.
One of the first things he required was a knight-master. While it was usual for a knight to choose his squire, Zahir had an entirely different approach. He would choose his own knight-master, one he deemed appropriate for himself and his future career as a knight of Tortall.
This was the most difficult part of his plan, for he couldn’t actually choose his own knight-master, no: he would simply watch a group of select knights that fit his criteria, and once he had singled out the knight that was best matched to himself, he would place himself in the way of the man until he was addressed by him. Thus, he would acquire the perfect knight-master.
Things had been working out rather well so far. He had narrowed down his options until only two suitable choices remained: Sir Paxton of Nond and Sir Inness of Mindelan.
Yes, yes, the brother of the girl. Zahir had mulled over that unfortunate coincidence many times in the past day or so, but the fact still stood that Inness of Mindelan was an inspired swordsman. To excel with the sword was one of Zahir’s aims as a knight. If he were to one day become as renowned for his fencing skills as someone such as Duke Gareth the Elder, then he would know his aim had been reached. Another reason that Inness was a prime candidate was the fact that he was always on duty at one border or another. Broadening one’s horizons—and one’s knowledge of foreign countries—was important if his dreams were to be realised. To have Sir Inness as his knight-master, Zahir decided, was most certainly the better alternative.
A knock on his door early the next morning was an unwelcome interruption. Zahir had only just finished his morning stretches. Tucking his open shirt into his breeches, he went to the door half-expecting it to be one of his friends moaning again. Instead, a servant gave him a letter. Zahir closed the door in the man’s face without a second thought, long hands turning the folded paper over to look at the seal. Cavall.
He continued to dress at his usual pace, slow and measured. A knight was a representative of king and country, and it was appropriate to dress so, with pride. Only when he had combed his shining black hair into place did he turn and examine the letter again. He had intended to get in some tilting practice today, but it could wait. Sir Inness was only due to arrive in three more days.
The letter was brief, no more than a note really, summoning him to the training master’s study at noon. He wondered what it could be about.
In any case, he had a few hours yet until noon. A pile of books on his desk had been staring him down for the last week. He looked at them now with a sigh. A knight’s work was never done.
He could feel a headache coming on, and anyone was yet to speak a word. Lord Wyldon of Cavall, the training master, rubbed his arm and withheld a sigh.
They had been in his office since the eleventh hour, the King and his Champion, glaring at each other and being irritating. The Lioness stalked around the room for what must have been the twentieth time. Wyldon saw now why she had been so named; she was truly fierce, even when she was silent. It was no wonder she and the King got into arguments so often.
“Sit down Alanna, you’re giving me a headache,” King Jonathon snapped suddenly. Alanna merely looked over her shoulder at him, before resuming her examination of Wyldon’s bookcase.
Jonathon looked at Wyldon, as if begging him to do something. Wyldon chose to remain silent. He had been involved with these two before and wished for no further arguments to break out.
Finally, a servant appeared at the door and ushered in Zahir. He was a handsome boy, but perhaps too proud for the calling of a knight. Wyldon watched as the lad stepped forward, looking around at who was gathered. When his eyes registered the form of the King sitting in the chair by Wyldon’s desk, a noticeable change overcame him. Zahir’s back straightened, his chin raised itself a fraction. Wyldon wondered if he had even been so proud when he was that age. The answer? Probably.
“You summoned me, my lord?” Zahir addressed the training master. He was probably still completely unaware of what was going on, Wyldon thought.
“Quite,” Wyldon replied, “His Majesty and Sir Alanna wished to speak with you. I trust you will answer them with respect.”
King Jonathon rose from his chair, smiling. Alanna remained next to the book case, sharp eyes flicking between her king and the boy. If Wyldon knew the Lioness well at all, he would have thought she was nervous.
“The reason we’ve asked you here, Zahir, is it?” Jonathon began. Zahir nodded.
“Well, Zahir, the reason we’ve asked to talk to you,” Jonathon continued, “is because a matter has come up that concerns you, and we thought it best that you had a say about it.” At this, Alanna rolled her eyes.
“I would like you to answer honestly, although you must understand that there is more to discuss than merely—“
“Oh, shutup already Jon,” Alanna interrupted. “Zahir, want do you think of being my squire?”
Zahir was speechless. The Lioness wanted him for her squire. There were so many things running through his head at that moment, it was difficult to think in a straight line. It was because of this woman, this so-called warrior, that girls like the Lump dared to enter page training. Women weren’t supposed to fight! It was...it was barbaric, is what it was! Females running around with the men, showing their faces and hair, doing who knows what...the very idea was chaotic and absurd.
He had been raised properly. But things were so different at the palace, with the girl, and the weird animals, and Immortals and magic and the girl.
A small part of his mind turned his line of thinking down another path. She was King’s Champion. So what if she was a woman? What did it matter that it was completely unnatural? He couldn’t help hear all of the stories during his years as a page, how she had beaten the evil Duke not once, but twice! And she had brought back the Dominion Jewel from the Roof of the World. Not to mention she was unbelievably good with a sword, with either hand! More than that, the Lioness was hardly ever at the palace, or anywhere near Corus. She had been nearly everywhere. Zahir chewed on his bottom lip as he considered.
Sir Inness wouldn’t be back from the border for three days. Even then, there was no guarantee that he would choose him as his squire. His plan to snare Inness as his knight-master certainly had some holes in it.
The King and his Champion were arguing, something about the girl and representing the crown. Zahir hadn’t been paying attention. Lord Wyldon sat at his desk, watching the pair with a tired expression.
“Um, Lioness?” Zahir ventured timidly. The argument looked like it could go on for days. Alanna must have heard him though, for she turned from the King as he was in mid-shout and stepped toward Zahir. He was shocked to see that he was taller than her. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’ll be your squire.”
I'm starting to really like Zahir, which is interesting...
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!