(no subject)
Jul. 1st, 2005 10:14 amAlanna had a headache.
However, she suspected that it was not nearly as bad as the one assaulting poor Myles' skull. He had waved her off over breakfast, suggesting that perhaps, yes, she should spend a few hours wandering the grounds and exploring the ruins. He had some business that needed tending to anyway, and although he knows she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, would she please take someone with her. A look passed between them, the rest left unsaid. Both remembered well that the ruins were not entirely safe from dark shadows and old magic.
She had meant to take someone with her. Really, she had. She simply forgot to ask anyone until the servants and Ranulf were busy elsewhere, and she couldn't very well ask them to abandon their tasks. Pilfering a few Barony apples from the kitchen, Alanna set out alone, kicking at the morning dew and letting her eyes roam the long valley.
No matter how hard she tried to forget the look in Indy's eyes as she told him the woman he loved was dead, it kept creeping into her mind and sending cold chills down her spine.
Alanna had no doubts about her own stubbornness, her ability to fight back fear and attack with single-minded precision - when it came to battle, that is. Enemies she could see, she could fight. Emotions are another matter entirely.
Is love worth the pain?
Coram's voice as he informed her of her father's death had been respectful and caring, but did not insult her with pity. No one knew better than he that the relationship between father and daughter was not as it should be. "Lord Trebond is dead." He had taken her small hand in his for comfort. Alanna had been too numb to notice anything other than the ridge of a new scar on his palm. "Lass, he died calling her name."
Thea. The mother we never knew, lost to us, lost to him. Because of us. He never recovered. Goddess, he never healed. Would I? Would I go mad and shut myself off from the world?
Indy had clutched her yesterday like she was the only thing anchoring him to reality and to sanity. Fighting sorcerers or immortals no longer scared Alanna, but the thought of ever feeling emotions like the ones she saw in Indy's eyes made her shake. (Feeling them again, you mean. You felt that way when Thom died.) It made her restless, and she burned with a sudden desire to sink her feet into warm desert sand. Running away is not the answer. It's not.
She thought of Peter. A helpless little smile crossed her face, but faded as quickly as it appeared. Everything is so uncertain. He faces so much. Gods, I wouldn't even know if something did happen. Throwing an apple against a tree, she blinked at the realization that she had reached the ruins without paying very much attention to her path. The air felt unusually still, and Alanna rubbed the back of her neck as she worked her way over the uneven ground toward the crumbled marble walls.
So many ghosts. Alanna swallowed. She was frightened, but not of ghosts. I don't want to lose a piece of myself.
She stood in what had once been a kitchen and wondered if Myles had ever finished the book he had been writing about this ancient place all those years ago. The thick door fashioned crudely out of blackened wood still hung haphazardly in a partially intact stretch of wall. Alanna studied it dispassionately for a moment and shrugged. Why not? Doors are meant to be opened, after all. Lifting the latch, she tugged, grunting in shock as it swung wide.
Milliways. It seems the Gods wish to remind me of my duties.
Holding her breath, Alanna looked back and forth between the woods she had just come through and the bar.
The desert is so nice this time of year. Surely the Bloody Hawk would be happy to see me?
Someone laughed, and the sound reminded her to breathe.
Running away never solved anything, you know. Biting back an oath, Alanna entered the bar.
However, she suspected that it was not nearly as bad as the one assaulting poor Myles' skull. He had waved her off over breakfast, suggesting that perhaps, yes, she should spend a few hours wandering the grounds and exploring the ruins. He had some business that needed tending to anyway, and although he knows she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, would she please take someone with her. A look passed between them, the rest left unsaid. Both remembered well that the ruins were not entirely safe from dark shadows and old magic.
She had meant to take someone with her. Really, she had. She simply forgot to ask anyone until the servants and Ranulf were busy elsewhere, and she couldn't very well ask them to abandon their tasks. Pilfering a few Barony apples from the kitchen, Alanna set out alone, kicking at the morning dew and letting her eyes roam the long valley.
No matter how hard she tried to forget the look in Indy's eyes as she told him the woman he loved was dead, it kept creeping into her mind and sending cold chills down her spine.
Alanna had no doubts about her own stubbornness, her ability to fight back fear and attack with single-minded precision - when it came to battle, that is. Enemies she could see, she could fight. Emotions are another matter entirely.
Is love worth the pain?
Coram's voice as he informed her of her father's death had been respectful and caring, but did not insult her with pity. No one knew better than he that the relationship between father and daughter was not as it should be. "Lord Trebond is dead." He had taken her small hand in his for comfort. Alanna had been too numb to notice anything other than the ridge of a new scar on his palm. "Lass, he died calling her name."
Thea. The mother we never knew, lost to us, lost to him. Because of us. He never recovered. Goddess, he never healed. Would I? Would I go mad and shut myself off from the world?
Indy had clutched her yesterday like she was the only thing anchoring him to reality and to sanity. Fighting sorcerers or immortals no longer scared Alanna, but the thought of ever feeling emotions like the ones she saw in Indy's eyes made her shake. (Feeling them again, you mean. You felt that way when Thom died.) It made her restless, and she burned with a sudden desire to sink her feet into warm desert sand. Running away is not the answer. It's not.
She thought of Peter. A helpless little smile crossed her face, but faded as quickly as it appeared. Everything is so uncertain. He faces so much. Gods, I wouldn't even know if something did happen. Throwing an apple against a tree, she blinked at the realization that she had reached the ruins without paying very much attention to her path. The air felt unusually still, and Alanna rubbed the back of her neck as she worked her way over the uneven ground toward the crumbled marble walls.
So many ghosts. Alanna swallowed. She was frightened, but not of ghosts. I don't want to lose a piece of myself.
She stood in what had once been a kitchen and wondered if Myles had ever finished the book he had been writing about this ancient place all those years ago. The thick door fashioned crudely out of blackened wood still hung haphazardly in a partially intact stretch of wall. Alanna studied it dispassionately for a moment and shrugged. Why not? Doors are meant to be opened, after all. Lifting the latch, she tugged, grunting in shock as it swung wide.
Milliways. It seems the Gods wish to remind me of my duties.
Holding her breath, Alanna looked back and forth between the woods she had just come through and the bar.
The desert is so nice this time of year. Surely the Bloody Hawk would be happy to see me?
Someone laughed, and the sound reminded her to breathe.
Running away never solved anything, you know. Biting back an oath, Alanna entered the bar.