Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 22:26:13 GMT 10
Title: Squire Kalasin Paradox II
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 593
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Alanna prefers to be angry; prefers for this to be personal.
A/N: Part of an as-of-yet-unfinished paradox quartet---#2; "Alanna does not take Kalasin as her squire.”
She agrees to go to Carthak for Thayet; not for Jon.
She doesn’t know if she will ever stop being angry with him for this. Her temper burn in her chest, and she wonders as she stands on the docks, if she touched the water now, if it would boil away under the force of her fury.
Thayet doesn’t come to Legann to see the diplomatic vessel depart; she and her daughters are already at King’s Reach. They left the morning after Jon broke the news, the morning after Alanna overheard the most explosive fight in the Royal Apartments, Thayet’s and Jon’s voices rising and escaping around the edge of the closed door.
Alanna prefers to hate Jon personally for this, though it isn’t exactly his fault, because the pain of dying dreams—hers and Kally’s—hurts too much when it remains faceless.
Kalasin never let others see her true feelings, not her mother, not her siblings, not Jon even though her father was the one to tell her, with a gentle voice, that she would not be re-entering page training in the fall. Alanna heard her muffled sobs, and she paused in the hall, hand raised to knock.
In the wake of that argument, Alanna has not yet talked to Jon herself about the subject. He knows that she knows what will happen, and she knows that he knows exactly how she feels about the subject. For once, their argument is completely, deadly, silent between them; Alanna is sure that Thayet has said anything that she wishes to say to Jon, a thousand times over.
In the end though, neither argument can change the Imperial document that sits, half covered, on Jon’s desk.
Ozorne didn’t want a knight-wife for Kaddar. Amidst all the flourishes and flowery language—Gary let her read it, once he was sure she wouldn’t tear it to shreds—Ozorne made that abundantly clear. And after the incident at Pirate’s Swoop two years ago, it is imperative: they must have peace.
And so, it is with this warning hanging over their heads that Jon is sending a diplomatic envoy to the desert nation, and Alanna is going with them.
Perhaps, with the entire ocean between them, some of her anger will cool over time.
But when they arrive, Alanna’s temper in Carthak remains a steady smolder lurking underneath every other emotion—her smiles are sharp, her eyes burn she meets the eyes of others for more than a moment. No one makes the mistake of believing in the razor thin laughter that she pries out of her chest, dry and dangerous like the desert wind.
Alanna is under strict orders not to skew negotiations in favor of Kally finishing her knighthood. By the end of the second day, Duke Gareth suggests that she take leave of the negotiations for a day or so; she can’t deny that she feels brittle under the eyes of Ozorne’s chosen few.
Alanna prefers to hate Jon for this, too.
She sneers as she sends another Carthaki nobleman’s sword flying, glinting as it drives down point first into the desert sands and ends another duel on the practice courts.
Alanna prefers to be angry, even if it isn’t—technically—Jon’s fault.
She presents the tip of her own blade to the bridge of the man’s nose; brown eyes—not blue—staring back at her from under a mop of seemingly familiar black hair.
“Yield,” she hisses.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 593
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Alanna prefers to be angry; prefers for this to be personal.
A/N: Part of an as-of-yet-unfinished paradox quartet---#2; "Alanna does not take Kalasin as her squire.”
She agrees to go to Carthak for Thayet; not for Jon.
She doesn’t know if she will ever stop being angry with him for this. Her temper burn in her chest, and she wonders as she stands on the docks, if she touched the water now, if it would boil away under the force of her fury.
Thayet doesn’t come to Legann to see the diplomatic vessel depart; she and her daughters are already at King’s Reach. They left the morning after Jon broke the news, the morning after Alanna overheard the most explosive fight in the Royal Apartments, Thayet’s and Jon’s voices rising and escaping around the edge of the closed door.
Alanna prefers to hate Jon personally for this, though it isn’t exactly his fault, because the pain of dying dreams—hers and Kally’s—hurts too much when it remains faceless.
Kalasin never let others see her true feelings, not her mother, not her siblings, not Jon even though her father was the one to tell her, with a gentle voice, that she would not be re-entering page training in the fall. Alanna heard her muffled sobs, and she paused in the hall, hand raised to knock.
In the wake of that argument, Alanna has not yet talked to Jon herself about the subject. He knows that she knows what will happen, and she knows that he knows exactly how she feels about the subject. For once, their argument is completely, deadly, silent between them; Alanna is sure that Thayet has said anything that she wishes to say to Jon, a thousand times over.
In the end though, neither argument can change the Imperial document that sits, half covered, on Jon’s desk.
Ozorne didn’t want a knight-wife for Kaddar. Amidst all the flourishes and flowery language—Gary let her read it, once he was sure she wouldn’t tear it to shreds—Ozorne made that abundantly clear. And after the incident at Pirate’s Swoop two years ago, it is imperative: they must have peace.
And so, it is with this warning hanging over their heads that Jon is sending a diplomatic envoy to the desert nation, and Alanna is going with them.
Perhaps, with the entire ocean between them, some of her anger will cool over time.
But when they arrive, Alanna’s temper in Carthak remains a steady smolder lurking underneath every other emotion—her smiles are sharp, her eyes burn she meets the eyes of others for more than a moment. No one makes the mistake of believing in the razor thin laughter that she pries out of her chest, dry and dangerous like the desert wind.
Alanna is under strict orders not to skew negotiations in favor of Kally finishing her knighthood. By the end of the second day, Duke Gareth suggests that she take leave of the negotiations for a day or so; she can’t deny that she feels brittle under the eyes of Ozorne’s chosen few.
Alanna prefers to hate Jon for this, too.
She sneers as she sends another Carthaki nobleman’s sword flying, glinting as it drives down point first into the desert sands and ends another duel on the practice courts.
Alanna prefers to be angry, even if it isn’t—technically—Jon’s fault.
She presents the tip of her own blade to the bridge of the man’s nose; brown eyes—not blue—staring back at her from under a mop of seemingly familiar black hair.
“Yield,” she hisses.