Post by Minuit on Aug 12, 2012 13:40:13 GMT 10
Title: Girlfolk
Rating: G
Team: SotL/TI
Prompt: As a rule girlfolk ain't to be trusted
Word Count: 1924
Summary (and any Warnings): Goerge and Alanna's first meeting in an AU where Alanna went to the convent (at least at first) and Thom went to the palace.
Notes: Driven off my responses to the topic If Kel (or Alanna) didn't become a Knight.
Alanna sat here in the dingy little hole in the wall tavern, back to the corner and eyes down. She fiddled with her sharpest knife, cleaning her nails, waiting for her contact to arrive. The stained and rusty tankard sat on the rickety wooden table, largely untouched. It looked like someone had tried to turn the table into firewood at some point, but with a blunt sword, and gave up less than halfway through. All around her the noises of men gambling and drinking and wenching seemed somehow more subdued tonight; like they knew something important was going down.
She thought about what her father would say if he could see her now, and laughed softly to herself. The Lord of Trebond, family listed in the Book of Gold, would have a heart attack to see his daughter sitting in a place like this, especially dressed as she was.
She felt two men enter the tavern, and glanced up. They slipped in rather than entered as normal people would. They weren't here to drink. Both dressed in nondescript breeches and cloak. But even in her short glance, she could see they had more than one type of weapon hidden on them. They took great care in not appearing like they were together, one went to the bar and the other to join a quiet gambling table in the back corner. She settled her gaze back down and went back to cleaning her nails; flipping her braid over her shoulder. He was late.
George stood in the dark, out of sight behind the door to the kitchen and studied the 'man' he was here to meet through a slip in the wall the owner built into the tavern. He was told to meet a little guy with a black cat. Not many men traveled with black cats, so he imagined it wasn't hard to find such a man. Except for he found the cat, but it sat on what was unmistakably a woman's shoulders. She was dressed like a man in worn breeches, shirt and the leather vests of a mercenary, but she most definitely wasn't a man. It wasn't just the long braid, it was the softness in her cheeks, and the distinct curve of what must be a custom made leather vest. She couldn't be who he was after. She had enough weapons on her to be a mercenary, but he was supposed to be meeting a member of one the of the best mercenary teams in northern Tortall; rumor had it they all came out of the City of the Gods, former guards and such. It was why he'd come all the way from Corus. But this woman, this girl really, she didn't look like she had the street smarts to be a top mercenary. She sat with her back to one of the walls, but didn't face any of the doorways, she kept her eyes down and didn't make any attempt to sip her tankard and take a subtle sweep of the room. She looked relaxed, not at all ready to leap up and get away or fight at a moment's notice. Someone was havin' him on.
Alanna felt a tingling along the back of her neck, and it wasn't Faithful's twitching tail; someone was watching her. She didn't need his whispering purr to tell her that this time. But he did anyway. He's been standing there for a while, watching you.
Where? She still wasn't comfortable with this form of communicating with her cat, but it was much safer than speaking aloud.
Behind the door to the kitchen.
He must have come in through the back. But her men were out there, in the buildings behind. They would've raised a signal if they'd seen anyone sneak in. He was good this one; a man from the Court of the Rogue himself in Corus.
George saw her tense, and with a bare twitch of movement shifted her weight. She must be better than he'd judged her to be; she knew he was here. Maybe they weren't just guards that came out of the City of the Gods. When the cat turned to look in his direction; he couldn't help but send a pray to the Trickster. What was this he was getting himself into? In this dimness, he could have sworn the cat's eyes were purple. The game was up. The cat sat staring at him, almost as if it could see through the wall with its tail swishing back and forth.
George strode casually out of the back, a half empty tankard in his hand, being noticed by only the very few sober people in the room.
Alanna was watching for him, and still almost missed it. He was almost blended into the background, she saw him, but dismissed him at first glance. It wasn’t until he started heading in her direction she realised that drunken wobble was an act. She needed to keep her wits about her. This man was dangerous. She kept her eyes down until he almost came up to her table, then she fixed him with her gaze, the one that could unnerve even the most hardened grown men. She met his eyes, and that’s when she saw him. They were just ordinary hazel eyes, but they shone. She was sure she’d never seen eyes like his, and wouldn’t see any like them for the rest of her life.
She saw him react, as most did when they saw her and Faithful together. A girl and a cat both with purple eyes were not a sight one saw very often. But he seemed to take it in his stride; not something most men could do. He pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down, back to the room, calm as you please. It would’ve been more impressive had she not seen his two men come in earlier. He smiled at her, a crooked thieves grin; and she suppressed the sudden and inexplicable urge to grin back.
George tipped his tankard to her and drank; such mistrustin’ purple eyes. The right eye had a scar across the right corner. He wondered briefly who had put it there. If that blade had been but a finger’s width closer to the left, he’d only be looking into one strange purple eye; and that would’ve been a shame.
“So you’re Alan.” He said, when the lass raised her tankard in response. She nodded. “You’re not exactly what I was expectin’, and not many people can surprise me. What’s your real name?”
“I don’t believe I know you well enough for that yet. Alan will do for now. Who are you?”
“Fair enough lass, I’m George.” He chuckled, blunt little creature. “Who’s that creature around your neck?”
“This is Faithful.” She reached up to stroke a finger along his side. The cat’s purr held a strange sound in George’s ears; like a hushed whisper, just out of hearing.
“Your familiar?”
“My pet.”
“Right.” George pretended to sip his ale. “Those are interestin’ eyes your, pet, has.”
“Your point being?”
“Just that I’m interested.” George smiled his crooked smile, the one that always seemed to frustrate and disarm his mother all at once.
He’s flirting with you. Faithful purred.
Quiet you, he’s just trying to rattle me. It won’t work. “So you have a job for us? Or did you just come all the way here for a chat?”
“Yes the Rogue has a job for you. If you and your men are up to it”
“We are.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“What, no bragging? No tales of daring feats your little band has accomplished?” George teased.
“No. If you don’t already know what we’ve done you wouldn’t be here in the first place. And the jobs that you don’t know I’m not going to tell you, our employers pay us to be discrete.” Alanna frowned at him, deeply annoyed. “Are you going to tell us what you need? Or just waste my time?”
“Very well, simmer down lass.”
“Don’t call me lass. My name is Alan.”
“Alan,” George tipped his head, “the Rogue wants you to look out for some very important people. Keep them from harm, and capture anyone who tries to come after them. By that I do mean capture. The Rogue wants a word with these people.”
“Doesn’t the Rogue have his own people for that?”
“Yes.” This girl was smart, something told him he had better play it straight. “But there bein’ trouble in the realm and all, the Rogue be preferrin’ someone with fresh eyes. Especially eyes such interestin’ eyes as your own. There be trouble in the East with Tusaine, and all sorts of rogue elements are comin’ out of the woodwork, tryin’ to be on top.” George paused. “The Rogue pays well.”
“The work will be in Corus then?”
“Yes. Would that be a problem?”
“Not necessarily.” Not unless you run into your brother. The cat put in unhelpfully.
Thom will be in the palace, he wouldn’t be associating with the Court of the Rogue.
There was a commotion at the door. A large heavily muscled and very heavily armed man barged his way through the tavern towards them. Alanna jumped up, quick as lightning. George looked at her and had to admit he underestimated her again, she was very fast. His men came up behind the newcomer, and he subtly waved them off for now.
“What do you want Jayne?” Alanna bit out, long curved knives suddenly appearing in her hand. The cat hissed and arched its back.
The man, Jayne ignored her and looked to George. “Why’r you hiring her for a job before us? Us who’ve been loyal to the Rogue for years.” He barged forward and demanded. “Those high ‘n mighty ‘n so called principled mercenaries think themselves better ‘n the rest of us.” He tilted his thick neck towards her. “My folk’ll do a fair better job than those lot.”
“The Rogue be wantin’ certain special skills they can offer and you can’t, Jayne.” George sat and spoke quietly, fingers dancing over the release catch to his knives.
“But she’s a girl, and girlfolk as a rule, ain’t to be trusted.” Jayne growled. “Not to mention she’s unnatural, a witch.”
“Why don’t you go way, before my unnatural cat makes your face prettier.” Alanna retorted.
“You’re starting to damage my calm girl.”
“You’ll be wantin’ to walk away before you get into real trouble. Just back away, quiet like.” George’s voice was soft and dangerous, and no one knew where that knife had come from.
Jayne looked around him, at the hostile eyes of the few sober men in the room, and decided for once in his life smartly, that this was a fight better left for another day. “You’ll be hearing from me again.” He pointed at Alanna, and strode out.
“So,” George said as everyone settled down again, “do you want the job?”
“Yes. We’ll take the job.” Alanna nodded at him. “The change of scenery might do us good.”
“Good. I’ll be keepin’ an eye on you lass.” George finished off his tankard and stood up.
“Is that a threat?”
“No, I have a feelin’ there’s somethin’ about you. I like to keep an eye on those that interest me.” George smiled that crooked smile at her one last time, and walked away. “I’ll see you in Corus.”
Do you think he drank any of that ale? Alanna mused to Faithful. But the cat was smugly silent.
Rating: G
Team: SotL/TI
Prompt: As a rule girlfolk ain't to be trusted
Word Count: 1924
Summary (and any Warnings): Goerge and Alanna's first meeting in an AU where Alanna went to the convent (at least at first) and Thom went to the palace.
Notes: Driven off my responses to the topic If Kel (or Alanna) didn't become a Knight.
Alanna sat here in the dingy little hole in the wall tavern, back to the corner and eyes down. She fiddled with her sharpest knife, cleaning her nails, waiting for her contact to arrive. The stained and rusty tankard sat on the rickety wooden table, largely untouched. It looked like someone had tried to turn the table into firewood at some point, but with a blunt sword, and gave up less than halfway through. All around her the noises of men gambling and drinking and wenching seemed somehow more subdued tonight; like they knew something important was going down.
She thought about what her father would say if he could see her now, and laughed softly to herself. The Lord of Trebond, family listed in the Book of Gold, would have a heart attack to see his daughter sitting in a place like this, especially dressed as she was.
She felt two men enter the tavern, and glanced up. They slipped in rather than entered as normal people would. They weren't here to drink. Both dressed in nondescript breeches and cloak. But even in her short glance, she could see they had more than one type of weapon hidden on them. They took great care in not appearing like they were together, one went to the bar and the other to join a quiet gambling table in the back corner. She settled her gaze back down and went back to cleaning her nails; flipping her braid over her shoulder. He was late.
George stood in the dark, out of sight behind the door to the kitchen and studied the 'man' he was here to meet through a slip in the wall the owner built into the tavern. He was told to meet a little guy with a black cat. Not many men traveled with black cats, so he imagined it wasn't hard to find such a man. Except for he found the cat, but it sat on what was unmistakably a woman's shoulders. She was dressed like a man in worn breeches, shirt and the leather vests of a mercenary, but she most definitely wasn't a man. It wasn't just the long braid, it was the softness in her cheeks, and the distinct curve of what must be a custom made leather vest. She couldn't be who he was after. She had enough weapons on her to be a mercenary, but he was supposed to be meeting a member of one the of the best mercenary teams in northern Tortall; rumor had it they all came out of the City of the Gods, former guards and such. It was why he'd come all the way from Corus. But this woman, this girl really, she didn't look like she had the street smarts to be a top mercenary. She sat with her back to one of the walls, but didn't face any of the doorways, she kept her eyes down and didn't make any attempt to sip her tankard and take a subtle sweep of the room. She looked relaxed, not at all ready to leap up and get away or fight at a moment's notice. Someone was havin' him on.
Alanna felt a tingling along the back of her neck, and it wasn't Faithful's twitching tail; someone was watching her. She didn't need his whispering purr to tell her that this time. But he did anyway. He's been standing there for a while, watching you.
Where? She still wasn't comfortable with this form of communicating with her cat, but it was much safer than speaking aloud.
Behind the door to the kitchen.
He must have come in through the back. But her men were out there, in the buildings behind. They would've raised a signal if they'd seen anyone sneak in. He was good this one; a man from the Court of the Rogue himself in Corus.
George saw her tense, and with a bare twitch of movement shifted her weight. She must be better than he'd judged her to be; she knew he was here. Maybe they weren't just guards that came out of the City of the Gods. When the cat turned to look in his direction; he couldn't help but send a pray to the Trickster. What was this he was getting himself into? In this dimness, he could have sworn the cat's eyes were purple. The game was up. The cat sat staring at him, almost as if it could see through the wall with its tail swishing back and forth.
George strode casually out of the back, a half empty tankard in his hand, being noticed by only the very few sober people in the room.
Alanna was watching for him, and still almost missed it. He was almost blended into the background, she saw him, but dismissed him at first glance. It wasn’t until he started heading in her direction she realised that drunken wobble was an act. She needed to keep her wits about her. This man was dangerous. She kept her eyes down until he almost came up to her table, then she fixed him with her gaze, the one that could unnerve even the most hardened grown men. She met his eyes, and that’s when she saw him. They were just ordinary hazel eyes, but they shone. She was sure she’d never seen eyes like his, and wouldn’t see any like them for the rest of her life.
She saw him react, as most did when they saw her and Faithful together. A girl and a cat both with purple eyes were not a sight one saw very often. But he seemed to take it in his stride; not something most men could do. He pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down, back to the room, calm as you please. It would’ve been more impressive had she not seen his two men come in earlier. He smiled at her, a crooked thieves grin; and she suppressed the sudden and inexplicable urge to grin back.
George tipped his tankard to her and drank; such mistrustin’ purple eyes. The right eye had a scar across the right corner. He wondered briefly who had put it there. If that blade had been but a finger’s width closer to the left, he’d only be looking into one strange purple eye; and that would’ve been a shame.
“So you’re Alan.” He said, when the lass raised her tankard in response. She nodded. “You’re not exactly what I was expectin’, and not many people can surprise me. What’s your real name?”
“I don’t believe I know you well enough for that yet. Alan will do for now. Who are you?”
“Fair enough lass, I’m George.” He chuckled, blunt little creature. “Who’s that creature around your neck?”
“This is Faithful.” She reached up to stroke a finger along his side. The cat’s purr held a strange sound in George’s ears; like a hushed whisper, just out of hearing.
“Your familiar?”
“My pet.”
“Right.” George pretended to sip his ale. “Those are interestin’ eyes your, pet, has.”
“Your point being?”
“Just that I’m interested.” George smiled his crooked smile, the one that always seemed to frustrate and disarm his mother all at once.
He’s flirting with you. Faithful purred.
Quiet you, he’s just trying to rattle me. It won’t work. “So you have a job for us? Or did you just come all the way here for a chat?”
“Yes the Rogue has a job for you. If you and your men are up to it”
“We are.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“What, no bragging? No tales of daring feats your little band has accomplished?” George teased.
“No. If you don’t already know what we’ve done you wouldn’t be here in the first place. And the jobs that you don’t know I’m not going to tell you, our employers pay us to be discrete.” Alanna frowned at him, deeply annoyed. “Are you going to tell us what you need? Or just waste my time?”
“Very well, simmer down lass.”
“Don’t call me lass. My name is Alan.”
“Alan,” George tipped his head, “the Rogue wants you to look out for some very important people. Keep them from harm, and capture anyone who tries to come after them. By that I do mean capture. The Rogue wants a word with these people.”
“Doesn’t the Rogue have his own people for that?”
“Yes.” This girl was smart, something told him he had better play it straight. “But there bein’ trouble in the realm and all, the Rogue be preferrin’ someone with fresh eyes. Especially eyes such interestin’ eyes as your own. There be trouble in the East with Tusaine, and all sorts of rogue elements are comin’ out of the woodwork, tryin’ to be on top.” George paused. “The Rogue pays well.”
“The work will be in Corus then?”
“Yes. Would that be a problem?”
“Not necessarily.” Not unless you run into your brother. The cat put in unhelpfully.
Thom will be in the palace, he wouldn’t be associating with the Court of the Rogue.
There was a commotion at the door. A large heavily muscled and very heavily armed man barged his way through the tavern towards them. Alanna jumped up, quick as lightning. George looked at her and had to admit he underestimated her again, she was very fast. His men came up behind the newcomer, and he subtly waved them off for now.
“What do you want Jayne?” Alanna bit out, long curved knives suddenly appearing in her hand. The cat hissed and arched its back.
The man, Jayne ignored her and looked to George. “Why’r you hiring her for a job before us? Us who’ve been loyal to the Rogue for years.” He barged forward and demanded. “Those high ‘n mighty ‘n so called principled mercenaries think themselves better ‘n the rest of us.” He tilted his thick neck towards her. “My folk’ll do a fair better job than those lot.”
“The Rogue be wantin’ certain special skills they can offer and you can’t, Jayne.” George sat and spoke quietly, fingers dancing over the release catch to his knives.
“But she’s a girl, and girlfolk as a rule, ain’t to be trusted.” Jayne growled. “Not to mention she’s unnatural, a witch.”
“Why don’t you go way, before my unnatural cat makes your face prettier.” Alanna retorted.
“You’re starting to damage my calm girl.”
“You’ll be wantin’ to walk away before you get into real trouble. Just back away, quiet like.” George’s voice was soft and dangerous, and no one knew where that knife had come from.
Jayne looked around him, at the hostile eyes of the few sober men in the room, and decided for once in his life smartly, that this was a fight better left for another day. “You’ll be hearing from me again.” He pointed at Alanna, and strode out.
“So,” George said as everyone settled down again, “do you want the job?”
“Yes. We’ll take the job.” Alanna nodded at him. “The change of scenery might do us good.”
“Good. I’ll be keepin’ an eye on you lass.” George finished off his tankard and stood up.
“Is that a threat?”
“No, I have a feelin’ there’s somethin’ about you. I like to keep an eye on those that interest me.” George smiled that crooked smile at her one last time, and walked away. “I’ll see you in Corus.”
Do you think he drank any of that ale? Alanna mused to Faithful. But the cat was smugly silent.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!