Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Tamora Pierce. I make no money from the publication of this story.

A new story for all to enjoy.

Insecurities Cured

The fight earlier hadn't been pretty. Alanna had said some pretty harsh things upon finding him wrapped around another woman. Now she sat on a stone bench breathing in the mixed scents of the gardens: sweet roses and moon-lilies, calming but sultry night-blooming jasmine…

She looked up to see his silhouette pace before the flickering light from their – no, his – chambers, before the candle guttered out. Suddenly, she felt guilty. Had he been waiting for her to come back before going to his rest? Did he want to explain what had happened?

Even if he did explain, what would she hear? She could imagine well enough what he would tell her – "She approached me, Alanna. How could I seek out another woman when I have you?" Was that true? Did he really prize her so much?

Don't be silly, that sneering voice in her head told her. Why should he need you, let alone want you, when he could have his pick of the beauties?

Will I ever consider myself to be good enough for him, as a woman?

She sighed gustily. How had she ever gotten the courage to become a page with such insecurities? Guilt was replaced with determination; she could be anything wanted. It was high time to start trusting herself and what people told her. She could start by apologizing to him.

She stood, took one last turn around the gardens, drawing the night's clarity around her like armor. She passed through the Palace silently, knowing it was well past midnight. As she walked, possible confrontations (and their varied endings) played in her mind. With every step, her confidence shrank, increasingly overwhelmed by her terror of emotional confrontation.

She trembled as she reached his door, vacillating between her insecurities and the knowledge that it wasn't right to leave an argument so open-ended, with one or both of them feeling hurt and angry. Finally, she drew a deep breath, the scent of jasmine floating into the great castle through a nearby arrow slit, and knocked lightly on the old oak door.

No answer.

The heavy door opened silently on oiled hinges.

"Jon?" she called out. She was met with silence. Oh well done, she scolded herself, rolling her eyes. Of course he won't answer – he's asleep. It's not as though he can hear me when he's three room's away, either.

She crept through the neat audience rooms almost silently, cursing softly when she stubbed her toe on a table in the center of the second room. She jumped about a mile when his bedroom door groaned loudly, but the sleeping form, barely visible through the gloom of the room, simply rolled over, his back to the room's entrance.

He had left the covers on "her" side of his bed turned down for her, she noted as she approached the mahogany four-poster. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Enough of that! Crying like a soft Convent-trained lady isn't going to help anything.

She crawled in next to him, snuggling as close as she could, burying her face in his shoulders.

"Jon?" Her soft murmur was barely audible.

He shifted slightly, clutching her hand to his chest, as if she were his life line. "You came back."

She nodded, face still buried in his back. "I… I didn't like where we – well, where I – left things."

He turned to face her. His smile was barely perceptible in the darkness, and Alanna wasn't sure if he was smiling because she came back or because of her mild squeak – well, he had nearly rolled onto her, after all!

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to what you wanted to tell me," she continued, studying the simple sheets. She couldn't look at him.

He lifted her chin softly, forcing her to look at him. He was still smiling – the smile that he reserved just for her – as he caressed her cheek softly, just for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss her. He pulled back to look at her again, his hand now running through her hair – almost subconsciously, it seemed.

"I know you don't like to hear it," he murmured, his hands sliding to cup her shoulders lovingly as they stopped, "but I do love you." He pressed another kiss to her forehead. "But how can we have anything lasting – well, beyond friendship, I suppose – if you don't trust me?"

"I do-." He stopped her with a gentle finger over her lips, his own lips quirking up into a sad half-smile.

"No, you don't. You trust me with your life, you trust me physically, but not emotionally. When was the last time you told me that something was bothering you, or came to see me for no other reason than just to spend time together, hm? And you're still putting off telling our friends about us.

"I know you want to be with me, and I know you love me," – his thumb rubbed over the simple gold promise ring on her finger – "but I don't think you're really ready to be mine."

She looked down, biting her lip as she thought about what he'd said.

"Alanna, I want you to go on an adventure somewhere – out of Tortall, since you've always wanted to travel – and come back to me when you're sure you're ready to be mine."

"But I promised to marry – ."

"I know," he interrupted again. "And I'm releasing you from your promise until you're ready."

Pregnant silence stretched in the wake of his words. For several minutes, he caressed her face, as if trying to memorize her features simply through touch.

"Jon?" The whisper seemed loud after the long minutes of quiet.

"Yes?"

"Can I skip the out-of-country adventure and have my second chance now instead?"

He chuckled warmly and pulled her closer. "I could never refuse you anything, my darling."

I know this doesn't follow the timeline of the stories at all, but what fun is fanfiction if you can't imagine a different universe for the characters? Please leave a review.