Disclaimer: I own everything. I am Tamora Pierce. Bow down to me. *not*
A/n: This is an Alanna goes to the convent story, the characters are probably all going to be either OOC, Mary-sues or both, but hey, live with it. I'm a sad person and I don't have a life.
Alanna of Trebond, known to her exclusive circle of friends as the Lioness for her red her and fierce temper, was living up to her nickname. She strode up and down the room she shared with her closest friend, Cythera, her face nearly as fiery as her elegantly styled mane. Her violet eyes were dancing, hissing with a look Cythera knew only too well. The letter that had arrived that morning was still clenched in her hand, crumpled and stained with the tears of rage Alanna had wept over it. Cythera barely knew how to comfort Alanna right now, mostly because she was afraid even to speak to her-the Lioness was not famous for rationalising when she was in a mood.
"I can't believe father is doing this." She spat out now, making Cythera jump back in fright. "You'd have thought that sending me here, neglecting me, forgetting my nameday- " Cythera winced with the memory of that particular rage "-now he's betrothed me to some stupid noble who's probably a desk knight like his father, never fought a battle with his life except with his nurse-"
"Neither have you," Cythera pointed out matter-of-factly, unable to hold her tongue at this hypocrisy.
"Yes, but that's not exactly my fault, is it?"
"He is the son of one of the most important men in the realm, Aly." Cythera reminded her soothingly. "Naxen is a great name at court, and I don't think he is a desk knight. Doesn't it say in the letter that he's one of the best fighters at court? Certainly his father is. I don't know where you get your ideas from!"
Alanna, furious that her friend made so much sense, slumped down suddenly on the bed, the wind taken out of her sails, her momentum lost. Ever since the letter had arrived that morning from her father, telling her to present herself at Corus within the month to meet her betrothed, Gareth of Naxen the Younger, she had been raging at life, the universe, and everything. Cythera sighed with relief that she had finally quietened down.
"That's better, Aly. You never know, you might like him... You might fall in love..."
That was Cythera, always lost in her dreams of romance and grandeur. Alanna, more practical, just wrinkled her nose. "I bet he smells bad." Chuckling, Cythera chucked a pillow at her friend. Growling with mock anger, the Lioness jumped on her roommate with another pillow and started ferociously attacking her with the deadly weapon. Before long there were feathers everywhere, the laughter was echoing down the hall, and all thoughts of Corus, Gareth of Naxen, and betrothals were tossed away as fading echoes on the wind.
A/n: This is an Alanna goes to the convent story, the characters are probably all going to be either OOC, Mary-sues or both, but hey, live with it. I'm a sad person and I don't have a life.
Alanna of Trebond, known to her exclusive circle of friends as the Lioness for her red her and fierce temper, was living up to her nickname. She strode up and down the room she shared with her closest friend, Cythera, her face nearly as fiery as her elegantly styled mane. Her violet eyes were dancing, hissing with a look Cythera knew only too well. The letter that had arrived that morning was still clenched in her hand, crumpled and stained with the tears of rage Alanna had wept over it. Cythera barely knew how to comfort Alanna right now, mostly because she was afraid even to speak to her-the Lioness was not famous for rationalising when she was in a mood.
"I can't believe father is doing this." She spat out now, making Cythera jump back in fright. "You'd have thought that sending me here, neglecting me, forgetting my nameday- " Cythera winced with the memory of that particular rage "-now he's betrothed me to some stupid noble who's probably a desk knight like his father, never fought a battle with his life except with his nurse-"
"Neither have you," Cythera pointed out matter-of-factly, unable to hold her tongue at this hypocrisy.
"Yes, but that's not exactly my fault, is it?"
"He is the son of one of the most important men in the realm, Aly." Cythera reminded her soothingly. "Naxen is a great name at court, and I don't think he is a desk knight. Doesn't it say in the letter that he's one of the best fighters at court? Certainly his father is. I don't know where you get your ideas from!"
Alanna, furious that her friend made so much sense, slumped down suddenly on the bed, the wind taken out of her sails, her momentum lost. Ever since the letter had arrived that morning from her father, telling her to present herself at Corus within the month to meet her betrothed, Gareth of Naxen the Younger, she had been raging at life, the universe, and everything. Cythera sighed with relief that she had finally quietened down.
"That's better, Aly. You never know, you might like him... You might fall in love..."
That was Cythera, always lost in her dreams of romance and grandeur. Alanna, more practical, just wrinkled her nose. "I bet he smells bad." Chuckling, Cythera chucked a pillow at her friend. Growling with mock anger, the Lioness jumped on her roommate with another pillow and started ferociously attacking her with the deadly weapon. Before long there were feathers everywhere, the laughter was echoing down the hall, and all thoughts of Corus, Gareth of Naxen, and betrothals were tossed away as fading echoes on the wind.