Welcome to 'Alanna as a healer'. A really stupid title - not poetic in the
least - but it fits the content. My very first English fan fiction work,
and originally meant to help me improve my English. Which is why I welcome
any Grammar/Spelling remarks as well as constructive criticism in your
reviews! (That was a hint!!)
A summary? Well.. real simple. Alanna gets to go to the Convent instead of the Palace (again. yeah. Yeah.), and gets into apprenticeship of the healers. When she is thirteen, a disease breaks out in the Capital of Tortall and the King requests the help of the healers in the City of the Gods. Won't tell no more.
I reread and partly rewrote the whole thing just this last week (it's the first, really rainy week of October, guys), so. it's all better now! I hope. Have fun.! ~ Regen
~~~~~
1 (let me introduce: Alanna!)
Sighing, Alanna leant back in her chair and pretended to be all interested in the information that monotonely flew out of her teacher's mouth. History of Arts was the most boring class of all, but at least she didn't have to attack some pillow with her needle (commonly known as embroidery).
The artist they were doing right now was the most famous of the last century, Sister Gwendolen of the High Mothergoddess' Convent was just explaining. He was the first to paint exact doubles of faces (and without the use of magic, mind you); he was the founder of portrait painting.
In Alanna's opinion he'd been great with people's faces but almost unable to draw anything other than that. He must've been lost in reality or somewhat, as he couldn't draw real things- such as horses and weapons.
Eyes focussed on the picture they were just dealing with (entitled "The Brave"), Alanna realized that the people on the canvas were actually meant to be three knights guarding a not showed something in a forest.
Knights. Alanna sighed again. She'd always wanted to become a knight.
There'd been that day, her father, Lord Alan, had sent her and her brother to school - him to the court, and her to the convent school. She'd been in such despair! She'd even talked into Thom, her twin brother, to change places with her. She wanted him to go to the Convent to fulfil his dream of a future as a sorcerer, so that she'd go and, pretending to be a boy, would make her way to the Ordeal and be the first female knight for half an eternity.
Their father had just given them the letters for the First Daughter of Convent and Sir Gareth of Naxen, the Trainer of the pages and squires, and Thom was writing fake letters imitating Lord Alan's handwriting. Alanna had been reading it aloud, looking over his shoulder: 'To Sir Gareth of Naxen - Your Grace, greetings! Hereby I send you my younger son, Alan of Trebond. I trust in your well-known knowledge and experience to make him grow up to a proper knight." She'd been giggling so hard that they wouldn't hear the door when their father came in, rather unpurposefully as he'd already said them a last Good-bye. He'd not been too pleased when he realized what they were doing.
"Lady Alanna? Would you mind telling me what you're thinking about so intensively?" a sharp voice broke into her thoughts.
Noiselessly cursing her father for letting her stuck in this school for what was now about three years, Alanna sighed a third time. Then she raised up her eyes to the teacher's face and got up to answer.
"Dear Sister", she began, but was interrupted rudely:
"It's honourable Sister Gwendolen!" her teacher growled.
"Honourable Sister Gwendolen," Alanna repeated in an all-too patient voice that made half the class laugh.
"Of course I'd been thinking about the picture you are so nice to show us.
The faces, drawn so exact, so perfectly, are really enormously impressing, -
as well as the fact that a sword like the left man is holding is just impossible. Built like that it would break in the first fight, or rather, I dare say, at first stroke.
And the face of that same man, it's the face of King Henry the Rhyme who lived in the last Century. As the name already says, he was a poet and a singer, he never ever knew how to even hold a sword, not to speak of fighting!
And that other men are Raoul of Crawn, a diplomat of Scanra, and Henry's son Henry Alexander. Even ignoring the fact that the picture was drawn in a time the Scanrans were fighting against Tortall, Henry's son died at the age of 5. To me it's still tasteless to just put a child's face on a knight's body.
I mean, okay, if the artist wanted to draw famous people, but he could at least have changed the surroundings etcetera."
At that point Sister Gwendolen, who's face had gone all red and who had been opening and closing her mouth for quite a while now, finally managed to get the words out of her mouth:
"What are you..? He is the best artist that ever walked on Earth and you, you are just a disrespectful, young, little, and unladylike, foolish girl that doesn't know anything about nothing! You shouldn't 've, you shouldn't.
The First Daughter is going to know about that! That you don't respect any."
"Oh, were you going to visit me, dear Sister?" a calm voice asked from the door.
As everybody turned their heads to see who was there, they saw a slender figure, dressed in the typical robes and veil.
The First Daughter radiated an aura of silent dignity that made everyone who stayed in some room she was entering shut up immediately. She formed an interesting difference to Sister Gwendolen. The latter being the typical artist: a bit untidy, confusing and uneven in her moods, while the First Daughter always seemed to be on a stop halfway to heaven.
"D-dear Sister", Alanna's teacher started with a slight stutter, "Yes, I've been just on the way to you. Lady Alanna of Trebond, Sister, she just."
"You won't have to handle her for quite a while now, Sister Gwendolen." she was interrupted.
"A messenger from Corus arrived this morning. A horrible disease seems to have broken out. The Court's healers ask for our support and assistance. We have decided to send as many healers to the town as we can do without.
As by our great Mother Lady Alanna has been blessed with an extraordinarily great gift, she will be sent to Court as well."
Turning to Alanna she added: "I expect you to behave like a real lady and to turn to healer-woman Maude."
Violet eyes glittered with joy, although the girl tried to hide her feelings.
"Shall I go and pack now, most honourable Sister?"
She nodded, smiling slightly:
"You may."
From one moment to the other, the red hair started flying in a sudden headwind
--------------------
A summary? Well.. real simple. Alanna gets to go to the Convent instead of the Palace (again. yeah. Yeah.), and gets into apprenticeship of the healers. When she is thirteen, a disease breaks out in the Capital of Tortall and the King requests the help of the healers in the City of the Gods. Won't tell no more.
I reread and partly rewrote the whole thing just this last week (it's the first, really rainy week of October, guys), so. it's all better now! I hope. Have fun.! ~ Regen
~~~~~
1 (let me introduce: Alanna!)
Sighing, Alanna leant back in her chair and pretended to be all interested in the information that monotonely flew out of her teacher's mouth. History of Arts was the most boring class of all, but at least she didn't have to attack some pillow with her needle (commonly known as embroidery).
The artist they were doing right now was the most famous of the last century, Sister Gwendolen of the High Mothergoddess' Convent was just explaining. He was the first to paint exact doubles of faces (and without the use of magic, mind you); he was the founder of portrait painting.
In Alanna's opinion he'd been great with people's faces but almost unable to draw anything other than that. He must've been lost in reality or somewhat, as he couldn't draw real things- such as horses and weapons.
Eyes focussed on the picture they were just dealing with (entitled "The Brave"), Alanna realized that the people on the canvas were actually meant to be three knights guarding a not showed something in a forest.
Knights. Alanna sighed again. She'd always wanted to become a knight.
There'd been that day, her father, Lord Alan, had sent her and her brother to school - him to the court, and her to the convent school. She'd been in such despair! She'd even talked into Thom, her twin brother, to change places with her. She wanted him to go to the Convent to fulfil his dream of a future as a sorcerer, so that she'd go and, pretending to be a boy, would make her way to the Ordeal and be the first female knight for half an eternity.
Their father had just given them the letters for the First Daughter of Convent and Sir Gareth of Naxen, the Trainer of the pages and squires, and Thom was writing fake letters imitating Lord Alan's handwriting. Alanna had been reading it aloud, looking over his shoulder: 'To Sir Gareth of Naxen - Your Grace, greetings! Hereby I send you my younger son, Alan of Trebond. I trust in your well-known knowledge and experience to make him grow up to a proper knight." She'd been giggling so hard that they wouldn't hear the door when their father came in, rather unpurposefully as he'd already said them a last Good-bye. He'd not been too pleased when he realized what they were doing.
"Lady Alanna? Would you mind telling me what you're thinking about so intensively?" a sharp voice broke into her thoughts.
Noiselessly cursing her father for letting her stuck in this school for what was now about three years, Alanna sighed a third time. Then she raised up her eyes to the teacher's face and got up to answer.
"Dear Sister", she began, but was interrupted rudely:
"It's honourable Sister Gwendolen!" her teacher growled.
"Honourable Sister Gwendolen," Alanna repeated in an all-too patient voice that made half the class laugh.
"Of course I'd been thinking about the picture you are so nice to show us.
The faces, drawn so exact, so perfectly, are really enormously impressing, -
as well as the fact that a sword like the left man is holding is just impossible. Built like that it would break in the first fight, or rather, I dare say, at first stroke.
And the face of that same man, it's the face of King Henry the Rhyme who lived in the last Century. As the name already says, he was a poet and a singer, he never ever knew how to even hold a sword, not to speak of fighting!
And that other men are Raoul of Crawn, a diplomat of Scanra, and Henry's son Henry Alexander. Even ignoring the fact that the picture was drawn in a time the Scanrans were fighting against Tortall, Henry's son died at the age of 5. To me it's still tasteless to just put a child's face on a knight's body.
I mean, okay, if the artist wanted to draw famous people, but he could at least have changed the surroundings etcetera."
At that point Sister Gwendolen, who's face had gone all red and who had been opening and closing her mouth for quite a while now, finally managed to get the words out of her mouth:
"What are you..? He is the best artist that ever walked on Earth and you, you are just a disrespectful, young, little, and unladylike, foolish girl that doesn't know anything about nothing! You shouldn't 've, you shouldn't.
The First Daughter is going to know about that! That you don't respect any."
"Oh, were you going to visit me, dear Sister?" a calm voice asked from the door.
As everybody turned their heads to see who was there, they saw a slender figure, dressed in the typical robes and veil.
The First Daughter radiated an aura of silent dignity that made everyone who stayed in some room she was entering shut up immediately. She formed an interesting difference to Sister Gwendolen. The latter being the typical artist: a bit untidy, confusing and uneven in her moods, while the First Daughter always seemed to be on a stop halfway to heaven.
"D-dear Sister", Alanna's teacher started with a slight stutter, "Yes, I've been just on the way to you. Lady Alanna of Trebond, Sister, she just."
"You won't have to handle her for quite a while now, Sister Gwendolen." she was interrupted.
"A messenger from Corus arrived this morning. A horrible disease seems to have broken out. The Court's healers ask for our support and assistance. We have decided to send as many healers to the town as we can do without.
As by our great Mother Lady Alanna has been blessed with an extraordinarily great gift, she will be sent to Court as well."
Turning to Alanna she added: "I expect you to behave like a real lady and to turn to healer-woman Maude."
Violet eyes glittered with joy, although the girl tried to hide her feelings.
"Shall I go and pack now, most honourable Sister?"
She nodded, smiling slightly:
"You may."
From one moment to the other, the red hair started flying in a sudden headwind
--------------------