Best Warrior
Author: Heiress Rating: PG Pairings: Not yet decided Summary: Everyone knows how Alanna's secret was revealed through that one stroke in the duel with Duke Roger. Well what if that stroke had been completed in another battle, at another time? Disclaimer: This all belongs to Tamora Pierce. I own nothing at this plot though I do have rights on the plot later on.
Suggestions for further plot developments are welcome and much appreciated. Flames will be doused with my muses tears.
A short, red-headed teenager walked across one of the inner courtyards of the palace, his attention only on the path in front of his feet. At a sudden burst of giggles from the right-hand side of the square, his head snaped up and violet eyes widened in alarm. The youth turned to go back the way he came but before he could go more than a few steps a ringing voice called him to attention.
"Oh, Squire Alan!" the voice chimed, "Might you come here for a few moments, that is, if you are not already on an errand of greater importance?"
The boy Alan gave a barely audible sigh of annoyance before squaring his shoulders and approaching the speaker.
"How could any task be of more importance than one you request of me Lady Delia?" He had to fight to keep the sarcasm out of his tone as he voiced the normal court flattery. The gratified giggles he heard as he bowed told him that for once he had succeeded.
He knew that for the most part these girls were using him as a pawn in court politics. They seemed to feel that being waited on by the prince's squire showed an elevation in their status. It rarely occurred to them that he was required to help any noble in the palace provided that it did not interfere upon his actual duties to his knight-master. As for those women who already knew that fact, it amused them to see him, the women- hating squire, forced to dance attendance upon the court beauties.
"Squire Alan, I really would hate to impose, but." "It is no trouble at all my lady," he answered her absently, impatiently waiting for her to get to the point, Lady Delia of Eldorne never did anything for an obvious reason, but there was always a reason.
"Well, I was wondering if you might get my gloves for me, I do believe that I left them in your master's chambers."
Alan's blood ran cold, than rushed to his face. So that's what her game is, rub it in everyone's faces that she is sleeping with the heir to the throne. Well, I'll see what I can do about that!
"I'm sorry milady but when I cleaned his highnesses rooms this morning, I didn't see any gloves," he watched her smile become slightly fixed. "I could check again if you like," he added helpfully.
"See that you do." She said, her tone colder that it had been a moment before. She turned away from him, a sign that he had been dismissed.
"I will Lady Delia," he pledged. And if I do find them, they may mysteriously find their way into the kitchen midden!
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"I do believe that I could hate that woman!" Alan muttered as he banged his way into Jon's apartments.
"Hate what woman?" queried Jonathon as he entered from the further room, wiping his hands on the towel he carried.
"What were you doing in my room?" Alan countered, blithely ignoring the prince's question and hoping the older youth would do the same. No such luck.
"Cleaning up after my slob of a squire." Jon answered quickly, "and who do you hate?"
" I didn't say that I hated anyone," the boy retorted, his eyes not meeting the knight's. " I said that I could, possibly, maybe, one day, in the far distant future, hate someone." Jonathon stared at him. "A lot of energy is devoted to hating someone and it would be foolish to enter hate lightly, just for something petty. The prince hadn't moved a muscle. "I am known as quite a woman-hater you know." One slow blink and then,
"Alanna." The red-head blanched, eyes darting quickly to the wide open door before rushing over to slam it shut and slide the dead-bolt home. The younger teen spun around furiously before crossing the room in a few quick steps to glare fiercely into the sapphire blue eyes of the prince.
"What in the name of the Dark God's realm were you thinking!" the squire whispered hoarsely, young voice full of rage. "Or were you even bothering to think at all? Of all of the maggot brained idiots in the Eastern Lands! For the Goddess's sake Jon, anyone could have heard you!"
"I-I'm sorry Alanna," said the prince, having the grace to look abashed. "I hadn't thought of that."
Of course you didn't!" yelled Alanna before lowering her voice again. "You aren't the one who get thrown out or even killed if someone finds out! You're the Crown Prince, so why should you have to worry about the lesser troubles of your insignificant subjects!" with that final shrieked accusation, the red-haired whirl-wind ran into the next room and slammed the door behind her. A second too late Jon ran to force the door and the issue but was only in time to hear the lock click into place.
~All right, complaints, congratulations, advice, and suggestions are all welcome. I have part of the next chapter done but suggestions on where this story should go would be welcome.
~Heiress
Author: Heiress Rating: PG Pairings: Not yet decided Summary: Everyone knows how Alanna's secret was revealed through that one stroke in the duel with Duke Roger. Well what if that stroke had been completed in another battle, at another time? Disclaimer: This all belongs to Tamora Pierce. I own nothing at this plot though I do have rights on the plot later on.
Suggestions for further plot developments are welcome and much appreciated. Flames will be doused with my muses tears.
A short, red-headed teenager walked across one of the inner courtyards of the palace, his attention only on the path in front of his feet. At a sudden burst of giggles from the right-hand side of the square, his head snaped up and violet eyes widened in alarm. The youth turned to go back the way he came but before he could go more than a few steps a ringing voice called him to attention.
"Oh, Squire Alan!" the voice chimed, "Might you come here for a few moments, that is, if you are not already on an errand of greater importance?"
The boy Alan gave a barely audible sigh of annoyance before squaring his shoulders and approaching the speaker.
"How could any task be of more importance than one you request of me Lady Delia?" He had to fight to keep the sarcasm out of his tone as he voiced the normal court flattery. The gratified giggles he heard as he bowed told him that for once he had succeeded.
He knew that for the most part these girls were using him as a pawn in court politics. They seemed to feel that being waited on by the prince's squire showed an elevation in their status. It rarely occurred to them that he was required to help any noble in the palace provided that it did not interfere upon his actual duties to his knight-master. As for those women who already knew that fact, it amused them to see him, the women- hating squire, forced to dance attendance upon the court beauties.
"Squire Alan, I really would hate to impose, but." "It is no trouble at all my lady," he answered her absently, impatiently waiting for her to get to the point, Lady Delia of Eldorne never did anything for an obvious reason, but there was always a reason.
"Well, I was wondering if you might get my gloves for me, I do believe that I left them in your master's chambers."
Alan's blood ran cold, than rushed to his face. So that's what her game is, rub it in everyone's faces that she is sleeping with the heir to the throne. Well, I'll see what I can do about that!
"I'm sorry milady but when I cleaned his highnesses rooms this morning, I didn't see any gloves," he watched her smile become slightly fixed. "I could check again if you like," he added helpfully.
"See that you do." She said, her tone colder that it had been a moment before. She turned away from him, a sign that he had been dismissed.
"I will Lady Delia," he pledged. And if I do find them, they may mysteriously find their way into the kitchen midden!
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~
"I do believe that I could hate that woman!" Alan muttered as he banged his way into Jon's apartments.
"Hate what woman?" queried Jonathon as he entered from the further room, wiping his hands on the towel he carried.
"What were you doing in my room?" Alan countered, blithely ignoring the prince's question and hoping the older youth would do the same. No such luck.
"Cleaning up after my slob of a squire." Jon answered quickly, "and who do you hate?"
" I didn't say that I hated anyone," the boy retorted, his eyes not meeting the knight's. " I said that I could, possibly, maybe, one day, in the far distant future, hate someone." Jonathon stared at him. "A lot of energy is devoted to hating someone and it would be foolish to enter hate lightly, just for something petty. The prince hadn't moved a muscle. "I am known as quite a woman-hater you know." One slow blink and then,
"Alanna." The red-head blanched, eyes darting quickly to the wide open door before rushing over to slam it shut and slide the dead-bolt home. The younger teen spun around furiously before crossing the room in a few quick steps to glare fiercely into the sapphire blue eyes of the prince.
"What in the name of the Dark God's realm were you thinking!" the squire whispered hoarsely, young voice full of rage. "Or were you even bothering to think at all? Of all of the maggot brained idiots in the Eastern Lands! For the Goddess's sake Jon, anyone could have heard you!"
"I-I'm sorry Alanna," said the prince, having the grace to look abashed. "I hadn't thought of that."
Of course you didn't!" yelled Alanna before lowering her voice again. "You aren't the one who get thrown out or even killed if someone finds out! You're the Crown Prince, so why should you have to worry about the lesser troubles of your insignificant subjects!" with that final shrieked accusation, the red-haired whirl-wind ran into the next room and slammed the door behind her. A second too late Jon ran to force the door and the issue but was only in time to hear the lock click into place.
~All right, complaints, congratulations, advice, and suggestions are all welcome. I have part of the next chapter done but suggestions on where this story should go would be welcome.
~Heiress