Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 21:58:41 GMT 10
Title: Probation
Rating: PG
Word Count: 629
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Jon offers the first lady-page potential the chance at a probationary year, and Alanna reacts.
Alanna is sparring with Eda Bell when the page comes trotting over, a missive clenched in his hand.
“Scuze me, milady, er, sir, and…uh, ma’am,” the page interrupts gracelessly, and holds the parchment out to Alanna. “Message for you, from His Majesty.”
Alanna frowns. Normally, if Jon wants to talk, he’ll come find her himself. He shouldn’t be in a meeting at this hour, anyways. “Thank you,” she dismisses the page distractedly, and Eda leans against the fence.
“You done for today?” the Wildcat asks, and Alanna, scanning the message, nods.
“Jon wants me in his office,” she mentions, and smiles at the other woman. “We will have to finish our match another time.”
In Jon’s personal study, Alanna finds him waiting behind his desk, hands clasped so he can rest his head on his fists. With him, of all people, is Wyldon of Cavall, and Alanna pauses in the doorway. The training master isn’t a man that she has gotten along well with, in the past, and Alanna cautiously takes the remaining chair.
Jon hands her the piece of paper that sits in front of him. “We have just received this, from Fief Mindelan.”
He gives her a moment to read the message.
Your Royal Majesty,
With careful consideration, I have made the decision to withdraw my request to enter page training with the required probationary year. I am honored to be offered the chance to join the ranks of your knights. I hope to be of service in the years to come.
Respectfully yours,
Keladry of Mindelan
The page flutters in Alanna’s hands, and she realizes that her hands are shaking. “What is this?” she asks, her voice strangled in her throat.
“With all due respect,” Wyldon begins, “there was a decision made with regards to Keladry of Mindelan, requiring a probationary year of her during her page training.”
Alanna’s jaw drops, and she rises, all the muscles in her body tensing. “Jon, what--?”
He stands as well, coming around the side of his desk. “Lord Wyldon has been very thoughtful and honest in his consideration of Keladry, Alanna.”
And there it is, Jon’s peacemaking, affable tone that Alanna only tolerates when it is turned on people who are not her.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Keladry has sent her reply, as you’ve read,” Wyldon continues. “Clearly, I was correct in my thinking.”
In that moment, Alanna wants nothing more than to smack the man full across the face. Jon puts a hand on her arm, and Alanna restrains herself enough that she does not shake him off.
“You—you—“ the words get caught and tangled in her throat.
“I believe my role here is done?” Wyldon inquires delicately, politely ignoring Alanna’s red faced, irate expression, and Jon nods before the training master bows himself from the room.
“How could you?!” Alanna bursts out, whirling on the king as soon as they are alone. “How could you let him do this?”
She brandishes the letter under Jon’s nose.
“…I had no choice,” Jon admits tiredly. “You were away, and it was a choice between Wyldon’s resignation and the probation; I can’t afford to find another training master, one who might not be as successful as Wyldon, this soon after the Immortals War. We simply don’t have enough men.”
Alanna gapes for another moment. “Then, you have even less, and no women besides, because if you think for just one moment, Jonathan of Conte, that I am not furious with you, you are sadly mistaken.”
She whirls and all-but runs from his study, not stopping until she reaches Darkmoon’s stall and feels the leather of his saddle beneath her fingers.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 629
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Jon offers the first lady-page potential the chance at a probationary year, and Alanna reacts.
Alanna is sparring with Eda Bell when the page comes trotting over, a missive clenched in his hand.
“Scuze me, milady, er, sir, and…uh, ma’am,” the page interrupts gracelessly, and holds the parchment out to Alanna. “Message for you, from His Majesty.”
Alanna frowns. Normally, if Jon wants to talk, he’ll come find her himself. He shouldn’t be in a meeting at this hour, anyways. “Thank you,” she dismisses the page distractedly, and Eda leans against the fence.
“You done for today?” the Wildcat asks, and Alanna, scanning the message, nods.
“Jon wants me in his office,” she mentions, and smiles at the other woman. “We will have to finish our match another time.”
In Jon’s personal study, Alanna finds him waiting behind his desk, hands clasped so he can rest his head on his fists. With him, of all people, is Wyldon of Cavall, and Alanna pauses in the doorway. The training master isn’t a man that she has gotten along well with, in the past, and Alanna cautiously takes the remaining chair.
Jon hands her the piece of paper that sits in front of him. “We have just received this, from Fief Mindelan.”
He gives her a moment to read the message.
Your Royal Majesty,
With careful consideration, I have made the decision to withdraw my request to enter page training with the required probationary year. I am honored to be offered the chance to join the ranks of your knights. I hope to be of service in the years to come.
Respectfully yours,
Keladry of Mindelan
The page flutters in Alanna’s hands, and she realizes that her hands are shaking. “What is this?” she asks, her voice strangled in her throat.
“With all due respect,” Wyldon begins, “there was a decision made with regards to Keladry of Mindelan, requiring a probationary year of her during her page training.”
Alanna’s jaw drops, and she rises, all the muscles in her body tensing. “Jon, what--?”
He stands as well, coming around the side of his desk. “Lord Wyldon has been very thoughtful and honest in his consideration of Keladry, Alanna.”
And there it is, Jon’s peacemaking, affable tone that Alanna only tolerates when it is turned on people who are not her.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Keladry has sent her reply, as you’ve read,” Wyldon continues. “Clearly, I was correct in my thinking.”
In that moment, Alanna wants nothing more than to smack the man full across the face. Jon puts a hand on her arm, and Alanna restrains herself enough that she does not shake him off.
“You—you—“ the words get caught and tangled in her throat.
“I believe my role here is done?” Wyldon inquires delicately, politely ignoring Alanna’s red faced, irate expression, and Jon nods before the training master bows himself from the room.
“How could you?!” Alanna bursts out, whirling on the king as soon as they are alone. “How could you let him do this?”
She brandishes the letter under Jon’s nose.
“…I had no choice,” Jon admits tiredly. “You were away, and it was a choice between Wyldon’s resignation and the probation; I can’t afford to find another training master, one who might not be as successful as Wyldon, this soon after the Immortals War. We simply don’t have enough men.”
Alanna gapes for another moment. “Then, you have even less, and no women besides, because if you think for just one moment, Jonathan of Conte, that I am not furious with you, you are sadly mistaken.”
She whirls and all-but runs from his study, not stopping until she reaches Darkmoon’s stall and feels the leather of his saddle beneath her fingers.