Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 22:06:08 GMT 10
Title: Watching and Waiting
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Something waits for them in the Black City.
The hot sun beat down on the group of squires, glinting off of the desert and reflecting brilliantly all around, and the walls of Persopolis rose in front of them.
The sun wasn’t the only weight on her shoulders, though. All around them, as they rode into the city, Alanna felt the weight of eyes on her, eyes that skittered back and forth between her and Jon. Uneasily, she reined Moonlight in, dropping back between other riders until she rode beside Myles, four riders between her and the Prince.
Myles didn’t seem to notice that Jon was not the only member of their party drawing stares from the normally staid Bazhir around them, and Alanna wasn’t sure that she wanted to confide in him. Why would the Bazhir be interested in her, anyways?
Although as the day went on, Jon tried to drag Alanna around with him, eventually the press and politics of the nobility seeking Jon’s attention and approval sent Alanna fleeing for the nearest corner of the room. Not surprisingly, Raoul had beaten her to the best corner, and she wasn’t in the mood for sharing.
She only ventured out onto the floor again to tug at Jon’s sleeves and whisper in his ear—“something interesting,” she murmured, with a quick glance over her shoulder to Ali Mukhtab, who leaned against the wall and surveyed the room with lazy, half closed eyes.
“Be right there,” Jon muttered back, and Alanna strode off, as quickly as she could without running from the eyes that rested speculatively on her.
In the Sunset Room, according to their natures, the squires spread out. Alanna traced the mosaic on the walls, following trails of stories she did not know as they circled the room. Gary asked questions, and Raoul studied one section of the wall intently before peering out into the desert. Jon, quiet and drawn to the large window facing the west, planted his feet with his hands behind his back.
Alanna recognized the stance; her friend at his politest and most stubborn.
“Is that the Black City?”
The black speck on the horizon sent a shudder down Alanna’s back. Glancing at Jon, she realized his expression was carefully constructed, smooth and carefully interested.
Continuing her inspection of the wall and its mosaics, Alanna stumbled across a depiction of black towers.
“There is a legend,” she heard Ali tell Jon, “Which talks of two gods who will come to the Black City to fight whatever of the Nameless Ones remain. The Night One and the Burning Brightly One.”
Amid the black spires in front of Alanna, she sees two figures: one picked out in black obsidian and blue lapis lazuli, and one in bright orange stone she doesn’t recognize and set with violet.
The Night One and the Burning Brightly One.
Alanna jerks away from the wall, Ali’s words settling heavy in the pit of her stomach, cold and hard.
The stares of the Bazhir. Jon’s too careful posture, too relaxed and too confident. The Black City.
Alanna stared into the desert, dreading what waited—there was no getting around it now—for them.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Something waits for them in the Black City.
The hot sun beat down on the group of squires, glinting off of the desert and reflecting brilliantly all around, and the walls of Persopolis rose in front of them.
The sun wasn’t the only weight on her shoulders, though. All around them, as they rode into the city, Alanna felt the weight of eyes on her, eyes that skittered back and forth between her and Jon. Uneasily, she reined Moonlight in, dropping back between other riders until she rode beside Myles, four riders between her and the Prince.
Myles didn’t seem to notice that Jon was not the only member of their party drawing stares from the normally staid Bazhir around them, and Alanna wasn’t sure that she wanted to confide in him. Why would the Bazhir be interested in her, anyways?
Although as the day went on, Jon tried to drag Alanna around with him, eventually the press and politics of the nobility seeking Jon’s attention and approval sent Alanna fleeing for the nearest corner of the room. Not surprisingly, Raoul had beaten her to the best corner, and she wasn’t in the mood for sharing.
She only ventured out onto the floor again to tug at Jon’s sleeves and whisper in his ear—“something interesting,” she murmured, with a quick glance over her shoulder to Ali Mukhtab, who leaned against the wall and surveyed the room with lazy, half closed eyes.
“Be right there,” Jon muttered back, and Alanna strode off, as quickly as she could without running from the eyes that rested speculatively on her.
In the Sunset Room, according to their natures, the squires spread out. Alanna traced the mosaic on the walls, following trails of stories she did not know as they circled the room. Gary asked questions, and Raoul studied one section of the wall intently before peering out into the desert. Jon, quiet and drawn to the large window facing the west, planted his feet with his hands behind his back.
Alanna recognized the stance; her friend at his politest and most stubborn.
“Is that the Black City?”
The black speck on the horizon sent a shudder down Alanna’s back. Glancing at Jon, she realized his expression was carefully constructed, smooth and carefully interested.
Continuing her inspection of the wall and its mosaics, Alanna stumbled across a depiction of black towers.
“There is a legend,” she heard Ali tell Jon, “Which talks of two gods who will come to the Black City to fight whatever of the Nameless Ones remain. The Night One and the Burning Brightly One.”
Amid the black spires in front of Alanna, she sees two figures: one picked out in black obsidian and blue lapis lazuli, and one in bright orange stone she doesn’t recognize and set with violet.
The Night One and the Burning Brightly One.
Alanna jerks away from the wall, Ali’s words settling heavy in the pit of her stomach, cold and hard.
The stares of the Bazhir. Jon’s too careful posture, too relaxed and too confident. The Black City.
Alanna stared into the desert, dreading what waited—there was no getting around it now—for them.