Queen's Own: So here, as promised, is the second part of the epilogue. I realize that this is not technically an epilogue, but, there you go. Here's your chap.
Vira: We don't own Jon, Alanna, George, Tortall or anything else that you recognize from someplace other than the previous chaps of this fic (gee, what a surprise!).
Epilogue II
The rain had not ceased in their several days of traveling, and as a result, Lianne was soaked to the bone, not to mention exhausted, by the time they reached the palace. It was all too gratefully that she handed her mount over to one of the stablehands, and relinquished her saddlebags to the maid who appeared at her elbow to take to her rooms for her to sort through later. She and Roger –who was equally drenched and exhausted- staggered through the palace. Bidding him goodbye at the hall where he turned to his rooms, she continued until she reached the royal wing, turning immediately onto the hall where she and her brothers each had a set of rooms.
Lianne sighed, and unlocked the door of the suite she'd been given when she left the nursey. Shivering in her wet clothing, she opened the door. Closing the door behind her, she jumped at the sight of her younger brother, already inside.
"Lianne!" Roald stood from the comfortable chair in front of a merrily burning fire. She shot him an unamused glare from behind the straggles of wet hair obscuring her vision.
"I have just ridden to and from Port Caynn, stopping for no more than a day in between," she said irritably. "And that stop was hardly restful. I'm exhausted, drenched, confused and annoyed. So I'd advise you to say whatever you have to say quickly and leave me to sleep in a warm chair in dry clothing in front of the fire you have so generously started for me."
"I'm really sorry, 'Anne," Roald said sympathetically. "But the only one of the three you can attain at the moment is dry clothing. Father wants to see you. And I've got news while you're changing." Lianne sighed and stepped through the door into her bedroom. Roald followed as she grabbed a dry, clean dress of purple wool and ducked behind a screen in one corner of her room.
"So what's your news?" Lianne asked, voice slightly muffled.
"Delia of Eldorne is currently occupying a cell on Traitor's Hill," Roald said, unable to contain his glee. "And she won't be occupying it much longer. She and Lord Alexander have been formally charged of treason and murder. And you know as well as I what that means."
Lianne pulled on the dry dress on, marveling at the feeling of being relatively dry. "Father actually allowed her to be convicted?"
"More," Roald said, grinning even more broadly. "He sentenced her."
"What!" Lianne exclaimed.
"He sentenced her," Roald repeated. "She dressed like the whore she is, in green of course, smiled prettily and talked softly, proclaiming her innocence. When that didn't work, she tried bribing him –you know with what-, then pleading, still innocently, and crying very artistically. When even that didn't work, she begged, and then even dared to threaten him. Lord Alexander didn't even try anything. He's known Father longer than her, he knew as soon as they were brought in that it was a lost cause."
Lianne, dressed, emerged from behind the screen and gave her brother a hug. "Sorry for snapping at you," she said, as a maid bustled in, to retrieve the clothing she'd left behind the screen. Roald smiled.
"My news cheer you up?" he asked.
"Absolutely." Lianne's eyes sparkled with a slight hint of joy. As the maid stepped past, she retrieved her belt, along with it, the package George had given her. Roald raised an eyebrow.
"What's that?" he asked.
"It's for Father," she said. Her eyes became a little more shadowed with the reminder of her visit to Port Caynn. "From an old friend." Roald laughed as they walked out the door.
"So mysterious, sister," he teased affectionately.
"I'm your older sister," she said, drawing herself up with mock dignity. "And don't you ever forget it."
To neither one's surprise, Jasson and Roger were waiting for them at the door to Jonathan's study. As Jasson saw them coming, he knocked on the door. The king's voice called, "Come in," from inside, and the four slipped inside.
"Back so soon?" Jonathan asked as they rose from their bows or curtsies, depending.
"We didn't want to stay two nights, Father," Lianne said quietly. "We wanted to get home as quickly as possible." He smiled slightly.
"And your traveling was safe and easy, I presume?" He raised one eyebrow. Lianne noticed that the king was as relaxed as she'd ever seen him. Maybe we're beginning to see the man Mother married, she thought.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Roger said from behind Lianne. "Everything went very smoothly."
"How was George?" the king asked, leaning back in his chair. The glint in his eye gave lie to his relaxed posture: the king was worried.
"He seemed well," Lianne said hesitantly. "He took the news of Mother's death rather- badly."
"How so?" Jonathan now looked very concerned about his former friend.
"He looked almost like a ghost," Lianne answered, still hesitant. "After we told him. And he looked as though he hadn't slept at all." Jonathan shook his head.
"I knew it," he murmured, almost to himself. "Still, after all these years."
"You knew?" Lianne blurted, surprised. "You knew that he loved her?" Jonathan looked up in surprise.
"How do you-" But he shook his head. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Yes I knew. I have always known. We were all friends- once."
"He sent a letter for you," Lianne said after a moment of awkward silence. She handed it to the king. He opened it, and pulled out a letter and an even smaller something that was hidden in his palm. Not even glancing at what that something was, he scanned the first line, eyes growing wider with every passing word.
"You are dismissed," he said absently, as he went back to the beginning and reread it. The four bowed or curtsied respectively and withdrew, varying degrees of shock and confusion showing on their faces.
"What was that all about?" Roald asked, as the door shut behind them.
"In Port Caynn," Roger said slowly. "We met a man named George Cooper…"
Jon- I think it's time for me to return to Corus. It's been too long since we last met. We need to talk, it's true. But I think it will be more apologies than accusations. -George
The King of Tortall set the letter on his desk silently. Even that short a letter gave him plenty to think about. He sat for a few minutes, staring at it. Then, slowly, he pulled a quill and paper from his desk and wrote.
Come to Corus, though knowing you, you're on your way already. Mithros, it's been far too long since I've seen you. And the gods only know I need someone to talk to. And someone to apologize to. And someone I pray to forgive me. –Jon
He sealed the letter and set it on his desk. It would be sent out later.
A hazel-eyed man stood in silence before the grave. The wind blew harshly- winter was approaching fast. Had anyone asked, he would have blamed that cold, fierce wind for the tears welling in his eyes. But all anyone who knew him had to do was look at the tombstone he was looking at to know the truth.
Alanna of Conte
A Knight of the Realm of Tortall
A Good Queen
419 HE – 458 HE
"It's been too long." George didn't jump at the voice from behind him, a voice that had once been familiar, that now he hadn't heard in years.
"That it has, Jon," he said, never moving his gaze from the grave.
The king came up to stand beside the man who had once been his best friend. "We have both known kingship," he said quietly, his eyes too focused on the grave. "We've both spent long nights, drinking and talking. I, at least, have learned much from you. And we have both loved the same woman."
"Are you sure?" George said quietly. "Are you sure we have both loved her?" Jonathan of Conte hesitated, and thought about a question he hadn't thought about since before Roald was born.
"Yes." And his voice did not quaver, his tone did not falter. "I have loved her. And it was because I loved her, that I trapped her." He turned to look at the other man. "Am I forgiven?" His blue eyes shone, though whether that was from emotion or from the wind, no one could say. "After all these years- am I forgiven?"
Hazel eyes met blue. And the two men embraced for the first time in twenty years. As they pulled apart, the tears in Jonathan's eyes became evident. "I'm sorry," he said. Gone was the powerful, arrogant king that Alanna and his children had seen for more than fifteen years. In his place, was a hint of the young prince who had met Alan of Trebond, thirty long years ago, grown and weathered, but still there. Unsure of himself for the first time in a long time, King Jonathan IV also felt a real smile begin to stretch his face, in spite of the tears. Or perhaps because of them.
"I'm not who you should be apologizin' to," George said evenly. The king turned to the tombstone.
"I'm sorry, Alanna," he whispered. The autumn breeze whipped color into his cheeks, making his eyes seem bluer than ever.
The wind whipped the trees around them, as George Cooper put one arm around Jonathan of Conte's shoulder and led him towards the palace.
In the spring, when old wounds had healed at last, a vine of small purple and red-gold flowers began to wind its way around the Lioness' tombstone. They were of a rare variety called Queen's Heart. Jonathan's new Spymaster, now a Baron, saw them and smiled.
When Lianne married Emperor Kaddar of Carthak that summer, she wore a wreath of the small flowers.
The flowers disappeared that autumn, and weren't seen again for many years. Ten years later, when Baron George died, the king commanded that he be buried on the other side of the queen. People raised their eyebrows, but said nothing. And the following spring, the Queen's Heart returned, covering both his grave and Alanna's. And this time it stayed.
Nine years later, Empress Lianne of Carthak clung to her half-brother's hand as King Jonathan IV's casket was lowered into the earth. The King's Champion, Roger of Eldorne smiled at his beloved sister. King Roald of Conte stood, pale and steadfast, flanked by his younger brother and closest advisor, Jasson, who made no attempt to hide the tears in his eyes.
When the funeral had ended, the king and his family waited until all the others had left. Then, silently, the king put his arm around his wife and the two of them left, followed by the Crown Prince of Tortall and his younger twin brothers. After a moment, Jasson and his wife followed them, he carrying their three year old girl, her belly rounded with their second. Lianne and Roger left together, the last to leave the cemetery. None of Lianne's four children or her husband had been able to leave Carthak, so she leaned on her only unmarried brother instead.
King Jonathan of Conte IV
A Wise and Just Ruler
Much Beloved by All
416 HE – 480 HE
The following spring, the Queen's Heart spread to cover his grave as well. And it has been said, on spring nights when the Goddess' Lamp is full if you go to that graveyard, you can hear laughter, ringing through the trees. The king, the lioness and the rogue were free at last.
Queen's Own: Yeah!! Done at last! Though now I am tempted to write a fic on Lianne and Kaddar…Oh, just review!! Tell me if I should write about Lianne and Kaddar and tell me how I did on this one. I know the ending was a little weird, but oh well. It's late at night.
The dates on Alanna's and Jon's tombstones were educated approximations on my part. My apologies if you can find any errors with my work. Please tell me in a review if you have corrections to make to those approximations.
Thank you to all who reviewed- please make my day and review this last chapter as well. Wind to thy wings! -Queen's Own