Alanna of Trebond (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_lioness) wrote2005-09-26 09:08 am
the_lioness) wrote2005-09-26 09:08 am
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Selecting an orange for breakfast from a fruit merchant's stand in the busy marketplace, Alanna suddenly feels as if she is being watched. Years of experience have taught her to trust her instincts, so with a small smile she pays the merchant and nonchalantly turns around, fingernails biting into the peel.
She sees no one.
Expression guarded, she ambles off toward the lower city and the Dancing Dove, waiting to see if the sensation lasts. It does, and she is reasonably certain she is being followed. Orange peeled, she pops a segment in her mouth and chews thoughtfully, listening and attempting to look as if she hasn't a care in this or any other world. She rolls her shoulders, mentally preparing for a fight. Does this have something to do with those papers left in her room? Or is it simply one of George's men making sure she's alright? She furrows her brow, settling on this as a very real possibility and making a note to give her friend a piece of her mind. She can bloody take care of herself, as well he knows.
Grumbling, she ducks down an alley and waits for the thief in question to pass. He does, and she breathes a sigh of relief, recognizing him as one of Lightfingers' mates.
"You are a hard woman to track down, Lady Knight," says a quiet, amused voice behind her.
Alanna whirls around, dagger drawn. "Mithros, I didn't hear a thing." She blinks at the woman, taking in her curly hair and the many lines on her face.
"Ah, but you sensed me. Not many could. The Dragon said you might have been one of us, had circumstances been different." The woman quirks an eyebrow, gaze unwavering.
At the mention of Liam, Alanna's mouth drops open. Swallowing, she studies the woman for a long moment, taking notice of the Shang insignia on her gloves. "Great Mother... you're the Wildcat. Liam's teacher."
The Wildcat simply smiles, turning to glance down the alley, toward the sun.
"It's an honor," Alanna continues, eyes bright. "What are you doing here? And what do you mean I'm a hard woman to find?" She blinks, catching herself before she mentions the bar at the end of the universe.
"I have searched for you off and on for over a year. For his sake." The Wildcat's eyes briefly cloud over with tears. They do not fall. She takes a deep breath and holds out a letter, the parchment yellowed slightly with age. "This was written the day before he died. I was to ignore it if he survived."
Alanna's own eyes well up as she takes the letter with shaking hands. She turns it over once, twice, and sniffs. "Thank you." Then, "I'm sorry. I should have been able to save him..."
She looks up, but the Wildcat is gone. A slight breeze lifts Alanna's hair off the back of her neck, and she shivers. Then, from the shadows, "I am also sorry, Lioness. But he died well. It is all we can ask. Farewell."
"Goodbye," Alanna whispers, eyes falling to the letter once more. She carefully lifts it to her mouth, tapping it against her lips and trying not to cry.
-----
It is only later, sitting by the lake at Milliways, that she finally breaks the seal and reads.
Kitten,
Kitten. Alanna laughs, wiping her eyes. What a ridiculous nickname.
Knowing you, you think it's your fault I got killed when I did. You're thinking, if you hadn't dragged me along... Forget it.
Remember the Doi woman, Mi-Chi, saying I knew my fate? Years ago, a Doi told me I'd know when it was the Black God's time for me. I think this is it. If I'm wrong, and I live, the Wildcat will burn this letter anyway, so you won't find out I wrote this.
Don't blame yourself. When could you ever tell me what to do? I chose my life. I accepted Dragon rank, knowing no Dragon has lived to be forty. As it is, I'm the oldest Dragon in almost a hundred years.
She sucks in a breath. A weight she hadn't known she was carrying inexplicably grows lighter.
The truth is we never saw death the same (like some other things), so I didn't talk about it with you. All you think of death is ending. To me, it's how a person goes. Dying for important things - that's better than living safe.
Ah, but that has changed, hasn't it? Despite herself, Alanna smiles, wondering how Liam would react to her revised outlook on life and death. Only a fool would feel that way after a year in the company of her dead twin. For many here, death is a beginning.
I often visited Tortall, though we never met there. The last two times -the first before I found you, and the second when we sailed into Port Caynn- I felt a change. Like the land when spring is coming. Bazhir talking to northerners, not fighting them. Commoners and nobles planning the future. Even you, my kitten, your great disguise -it's part of something new that centers around your Jonathan. If I can protect this beginning, I will have died a Dragon. You should grow old, and testy (testier), and raise lions and lionesses with a man who loves all of you. Even your Gift, and your independence, and your stubbornness.
Alanna reads and rereads this for several minutes, cheeks flushing. Finally, she snorts. "You made me sound like a mule, Liam. Goddess."
Practice your kicks off your left side -I don't care if they tire you out more than the right-side kicks.
Remember to rub that balm I gave you into the scars on your hands.
The balm had run out several months ago. Alanna carefully folds the letter, tucking it into her pocket. She stares at her hands for a long moment, remembering how angry he had been at her after she battled Old Chitral alone. Tears fall unnoticed, and Alanna slowly stands. Eventually, the tears stop, and she sighs, staring across the lake. "You did die well, Liam Ironarm. I think I understand now. Doesn't mean I miss you any less."
Biting her lip, Alanna begins practicing her kicks off the left side. Stubborn she may be, but she's certainly not too proud to ignore the advice of a master.
- Italicized text and situation from Lioness Rampant, by Tamora Pierce.
She sees no one.
Expression guarded, she ambles off toward the lower city and the Dancing Dove, waiting to see if the sensation lasts. It does, and she is reasonably certain she is being followed. Orange peeled, she pops a segment in her mouth and chews thoughtfully, listening and attempting to look as if she hasn't a care in this or any other world. She rolls her shoulders, mentally preparing for a fight. Does this have something to do with those papers left in her room? Or is it simply one of George's men making sure she's alright? She furrows her brow, settling on this as a very real possibility and making a note to give her friend a piece of her mind. She can bloody take care of herself, as well he knows.
Grumbling, she ducks down an alley and waits for the thief in question to pass. He does, and she breathes a sigh of relief, recognizing him as one of Lightfingers' mates.
"You are a hard woman to track down, Lady Knight," says a quiet, amused voice behind her.
Alanna whirls around, dagger drawn. "Mithros, I didn't hear a thing." She blinks at the woman, taking in her curly hair and the many lines on her face.
"Ah, but you sensed me. Not many could. The Dragon said you might have been one of us, had circumstances been different." The woman quirks an eyebrow, gaze unwavering.
At the mention of Liam, Alanna's mouth drops open. Swallowing, she studies the woman for a long moment, taking notice of the Shang insignia on her gloves. "Great Mother... you're the Wildcat. Liam's teacher."
The Wildcat simply smiles, turning to glance down the alley, toward the sun.
"It's an honor," Alanna continues, eyes bright. "What are you doing here? And what do you mean I'm a hard woman to find?" She blinks, catching herself before she mentions the bar at the end of the universe.
"I have searched for you off and on for over a year. For his sake." The Wildcat's eyes briefly cloud over with tears. They do not fall. She takes a deep breath and holds out a letter, the parchment yellowed slightly with age. "This was written the day before he died. I was to ignore it if he survived."
Alanna's own eyes well up as she takes the letter with shaking hands. She turns it over once, twice, and sniffs. "Thank you." Then, "I'm sorry. I should have been able to save him..."
She looks up, but the Wildcat is gone. A slight breeze lifts Alanna's hair off the back of her neck, and she shivers. Then, from the shadows, "I am also sorry, Lioness. But he died well. It is all we can ask. Farewell."
"Goodbye," Alanna whispers, eyes falling to the letter once more. She carefully lifts it to her mouth, tapping it against her lips and trying not to cry.
It is only later, sitting by the lake at Milliways, that she finally breaks the seal and reads.
Kitten,
Kitten. Alanna laughs, wiping her eyes. What a ridiculous nickname.
Knowing you, you think it's your fault I got killed when I did. You're thinking, if you hadn't dragged me along... Forget it.
Remember the Doi woman, Mi-Chi, saying I knew my fate? Years ago, a Doi told me I'd know when it was the Black God's time for me. I think this is it. If I'm wrong, and I live, the Wildcat will burn this letter anyway, so you won't find out I wrote this.
Don't blame yourself. When could you ever tell me what to do? I chose my life. I accepted Dragon rank, knowing no Dragon has lived to be forty. As it is, I'm the oldest Dragon in almost a hundred years.
She sucks in a breath. A weight she hadn't known she was carrying inexplicably grows lighter.
The truth is we never saw death the same (like some other things), so I didn't talk about it with you. All you think of death is ending. To me, it's how a person goes. Dying for important things - that's better than living safe.
Ah, but that has changed, hasn't it? Despite herself, Alanna smiles, wondering how Liam would react to her revised outlook on life and death. Only a fool would feel that way after a year in the company of her dead twin. For many here, death is a beginning.
I often visited Tortall, though we never met there. The last two times -the first before I found you, and the second when we sailed into Port Caynn- I felt a change. Like the land when spring is coming. Bazhir talking to northerners, not fighting them. Commoners and nobles planning the future. Even you, my kitten, your great disguise -it's part of something new that centers around your Jonathan. If I can protect this beginning, I will have died a Dragon. You should grow old, and testy (testier), and raise lions and lionesses with a man who loves all of you. Even your Gift, and your independence, and your stubbornness.
Alanna reads and rereads this for several minutes, cheeks flushing. Finally, she snorts. "You made me sound like a mule, Liam. Goddess."
Practice your kicks off your left side -I don't care if they tire you out more than the right-side kicks.
Remember to rub that balm I gave you into the scars on your hands.
The balm had run out several months ago. Alanna carefully folds the letter, tucking it into her pocket. She stares at her hands for a long moment, remembering how angry he had been at her after she battled Old Chitral alone. Tears fall unnoticed, and Alanna slowly stands. Eventually, the tears stop, and she sighs, staring across the lake. "You did die well, Liam Ironarm. I think I understand now. Doesn't mean I miss you any less."
Biting her lip, Alanna begins practicing her kicks off the left side. Stubborn she may be, but she's certainly not too proud to ignore the advice of a master.
- Italicized text and situation from Lioness Rampant, by Tamora Pierce.