Wow.....it's been a long time since I updated this. The muse floated off somewhere and only just recently returned. I'm working on the next couple chapters, so there shouldn't be as much delay. Thanks, as always, to my beta Sardonic Kender Smile. She puts up with the bad first draft so you don't have to.

Disclaimer: Don't own it -- except the plot.

Please enjoy!

Tears of hope run down my skin –

Tears for you that will not die.

They magnify the one within,

Let the outside slowly die.

Chapter 5

The pneumonia had worsened, leaving an exhausted Alanna on her death bed. As her mortal shell weakened, her eyes closed, and she passed into the almost-forgotten place between life and death. Alanna was too tired to be frightened of the all-encompassing black as she had been as a girl.

Her mind drifted back to her Ordeal of Knighthood, as she realized there was a weird kind of light here after all…

…The faint light in the Chamber gave her hope that she would survive this. She had to. How humiliating it would be if she was the first in fifty years to die here. If she did, she would be all alone….no Gary and Raoul to make her laugh, no Jonathan to comfort her….

She wondered what would happen to Jonathan if she did die here. Would Roger simply continue to gain power? She wished she'd actually gone to find evidence against Roger, as she had promised herself she would so many times before. When I get out of here, it'll be the first thing I do.

As if taking its cue from her thoughts, the Chamber showed her a scene of a Midwinter ball, with all the nobles in their full regalia, showing what positions they held at court. She spotted Raoul wearing the badge of the Knight Commander of the King's Own, and Gary wearing the medal declaring that he was the King's Champion. On the other end of the ballroom, Jonathan sat upon the throne with Delia of Eldorne beside him, dressed as his Queen. Roger, wearing the insignias of the Duke of Conté and of the Prime Minister, approached his monarchs, asking the Queen to dance with him.

She accepted far too readily, Alanna thought critically.

She watched as Delia danced scandalously closely with the Conté Duke, and almost missed Jonathan's whisper.

"I wish you hadn't died, Alanna. You should be sitting beside me, my love, not her."

Alanna heard a rustling from the cloth-of-silver curtains behind Jonathan. Something was behind there…was it just a servant? Alanna remembered balls during which servants had gotten caught in the curtains while trying to serve the monarchs...

Suddenly Alanna's world went into high relief. A foot showed beneath the drape behind the thrones, a nearly invisible sword glinted between the flaps of material. A man waited there, probably watching the dance floor for a signal.

Alanna suddenly understood – Roger and Delia were going to commit regicide. They had waited until Gary was socializing on the far end of the room, too far away to help his King. Raoul had moved from where she had originally seen him, and was even farther from his monarch – apparently, he was talking swords with Alex of Tirragen.

Jonathan, stop day-dreaming about me! There's a swordsman behind you! Alanna ran towards her lover, knowing that this was a vision, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

It was too late. She was too late. Just as she reached the dais, Delia tossed her hand out as Roger spun her in a turn. Seeing his cue, the waiting swordsman stepped from behind the heavy cloth. Time slowed, as the man (dressed in Eldorne colors, Alanna noted detachedly) pulled Jonathan back against the throne, his blade flashing as it sliced through the King's throat.

NOOO! her mind screamed. It won't happen; it can't. I won't let it!

In her anger, she tore at the image, feeling it shred like tightly woven silk underneath her hands.

The Chamber door opened. A grimly determined, but exhausted Alanna fell into her Prince's arms.

"I won't let it happen, Jon."

"I know. It's all over."

It's not over yet, Alanna thought, but it will be tonight. I'll make sure of that. Tonight the Conté Duke meets his end.