Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 22:03:39 GMT 10
Title: Parallels
Rating: PG
Word Count: 548
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: After she finds out, Alanna’s temper simmers below the surface until it breaks. He has no right to compare them, none at all.
After she writes to George, a letter that Alanna has to start and stop several times—she throws the parchment scraps around her tent in frustration—Jon returns, and Alanna blinks several times as she tries to comprehend what the king has just asked.
Jon’s words fall into the silence between them, and Alanna stares.
“Did I know?” Alanna’s legs refuse to help her stand; she’s been weak in the knees since Jon first burst into her tent. “Is that what you mean when you ask me if I’ve had a suspicion that my daughter would disappear, or run away, or, or—“
Her hands clench in her lap.
Cursing himself, Jon doesn’t know what to do. “Alanna, I’m sorry, I told you, I thought—“
“George can’t find her, and now I have you mother-henning me as well.” Alanna interrupted him. “You scry, I scry, everyone scries, or looks, or searches, or whatever. Nothing helps.”
“Look, if anyone can find her, it’ll be—“
“Stop it.” Alanna can’t take it anymore. “You don’t get to feed me platitudes and pretend that you can make the world better right now, Jon.”
“I’m not—“
“Yes you are. Stop it. This is my daughter we are talking about and I don’t particularly want the world to be better at the moment. So stop talking.”
Jon’s jaw set. “I’m just trying to help, Alanna. It’s not like I haven’t lived through similar experiences, you know. I understand how you’re—“
Alanna was on her feet before she knew that she had moved.
In moments like this, Jon forgot that his Champion was almost a head shorter than he was, and involuntarily took a step back.
“You do not get to say that to me.” Alanna’s voice dropped, and cut like the edge of a cold steel blade. “How dare you compare this to your own mistakes?”
Jon planted his feet. “When Kally disappeared—“
“—Your daughter ran away at the age of eleven because you refused to let her try for her knighthood, against all your other promises. She ran to King’s Reach, and wouldn’t talk to you for an entire summer.”
Alanna took a step back, away from Jon. “This is nothing like that. I have done nothing.” And yet, in the back of her mind, Alanna remembers all the fights that she’s had with Aly over the years, the fight they just had the last time she had been home and talking to her wayward, blueberry haired daughter, and she flinches.
“Alanna—“
“Get out.” Alanna’s voice is flat, and suddenly Jon realizes that her body is taut and her blade lies a hands distance out of reach and Alanna’s face is flat, he cannot read her expression.
“…I’m sorry,” he offers, finally, but nothing changes. He knows that the words will do nothing, he’s felt so helpless himself. He turns to leave.
Alanna does not move until Jon’s shadow moves away from the flap of her tent, and she checks the mirror-bright section of her sword once more.
The fog has not changed, and she has not found her daughter.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 548
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: After she finds out, Alanna’s temper simmers below the surface until it breaks. He has no right to compare them, none at all.
After she writes to George, a letter that Alanna has to start and stop several times—she throws the parchment scraps around her tent in frustration—Jon returns, and Alanna blinks several times as she tries to comprehend what the king has just asked.
Jon’s words fall into the silence between them, and Alanna stares.
“Did I know?” Alanna’s legs refuse to help her stand; she’s been weak in the knees since Jon first burst into her tent. “Is that what you mean when you ask me if I’ve had a suspicion that my daughter would disappear, or run away, or, or—“
Her hands clench in her lap.
Cursing himself, Jon doesn’t know what to do. “Alanna, I’m sorry, I told you, I thought—“
“George can’t find her, and now I have you mother-henning me as well.” Alanna interrupted him. “You scry, I scry, everyone scries, or looks, or searches, or whatever. Nothing helps.”
“Look, if anyone can find her, it’ll be—“
“Stop it.” Alanna can’t take it anymore. “You don’t get to feed me platitudes and pretend that you can make the world better right now, Jon.”
“I’m not—“
“Yes you are. Stop it. This is my daughter we are talking about and I don’t particularly want the world to be better at the moment. So stop talking.”
Jon’s jaw set. “I’m just trying to help, Alanna. It’s not like I haven’t lived through similar experiences, you know. I understand how you’re—“
Alanna was on her feet before she knew that she had moved.
In moments like this, Jon forgot that his Champion was almost a head shorter than he was, and involuntarily took a step back.
“You do not get to say that to me.” Alanna’s voice dropped, and cut like the edge of a cold steel blade. “How dare you compare this to your own mistakes?”
Jon planted his feet. “When Kally disappeared—“
“—Your daughter ran away at the age of eleven because you refused to let her try for her knighthood, against all your other promises. She ran to King’s Reach, and wouldn’t talk to you for an entire summer.”
Alanna took a step back, away from Jon. “This is nothing like that. I have done nothing.” And yet, in the back of her mind, Alanna remembers all the fights that she’s had with Aly over the years, the fight they just had the last time she had been home and talking to her wayward, blueberry haired daughter, and she flinches.
“Alanna—“
“Get out.” Alanna’s voice is flat, and suddenly Jon realizes that her body is taut and her blade lies a hands distance out of reach and Alanna’s face is flat, he cannot read her expression.
“…I’m sorry,” he offers, finally, but nothing changes. He knows that the words will do nothing, he’s felt so helpless himself. He turns to leave.
Alanna does not move until Jon’s shadow moves away from the flap of her tent, and she checks the mirror-bright section of her sword once more.
The fog has not changed, and she has not found her daughter.