the_lioness | (no subject)

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*Furious, Alanna storms into her chamber and slams the door. Her gaze sweeps the room recently assigned to her in the staff quarters. A bright fire burns in the grate, its light chasing the shadows from each and every corner. The room is infinitely more comfortable than the one upstairs, but she almost misses her former abode. The cold stone and bleak decorations would admirably suit her current mood.

Muttering to herself, she stalks over to the bed and begins hurriedly collecting the many piles of crumpled papers lying around. These letters, her aborted attempts to correspond with Jon, represent a failure she can no longer abide. Tossing every last page into the fire, she wipes her hands on her breeches and glares at nothing in particular.*

I'm running out of excuses.

*Alanna begins to tear through her personal effects, frantically searching for the card given to her by Corwin several weeks ago.*

Blast him! I can no longer see even a glimmer of truth for all the deception. *growls* Thom be dammed, my duty lies with Jon and Tortall.

*Finally locating the Trump inside one of Thom's sorcery books, she sinks onto the bed and bites her lip. With one last show of temper, she hurls the book across the room and begins to concentrate on Corwin's image. She feels ridiculous at first, but her urgency quickly overrides any self-consciousness.*

Prince Corwin, you said to use this to contact you should I ever have need. Well, my need is great. I need to know if I can leave.

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*Corwin strolls down the cobblestone streets near the docks of Amber. The night air smells strongly of salt, and the sound of creaking ships can be heard in the background. As he approaches a street sign marked "Seabreeze Lane", he stops suddenly. Someone is trying to contact him via Trump.

He opens his mind to the contact... and sees the image of Alanna appear before him. Noting the disarray in the background, his eyebrows raises slightly.*

Good evening, Sir Alanna. To what do I owe the pleasure?

*Alanna gasps as the image on the Trump shifts, the colors changing and coming alive. Corwin is suddenly animated and gazing askance at the mess behind her. The sensation of contact eerily reminds her of feeling Roger probe the outer shields of her mind.*

Cor.. Corwin. *Alanna pulls herself together, taking note of his surroundings and the sounds of the docks. Groaning, she wonders why he had to be around ships at that precise moment.* I need your help. *uneasily* I wish to try visiting Amber.

*Corwin smiles warmly* Excellent... though you catch me in one of the less-than-opulant areas of the realm. To be honest, however, the company of a comrade-in-arms would not be unwelcome.

*Extends hand* If you wish to come, you need only take my hand.

I am not even remotely concerned by your whereabouts, Prince.

*Alanna is entirely too overwhelmed to care. She just wants to get there and get back, thereby reassuring herself that it's possible for her to return to Tortall. She gives her chamber once last look, stubbornly ignoring the book flung carelessly across the room. Taking a deep breath, she extends her hand and grasps Corwin's, closing her eyes as their fingers touch.*

*Corwin tugs gently, causing Alanna to step forward... and suddenly she is there beside him. Grinning, he clasps a hand on her shoulder.*

Welcome to the port district of Amber. *He makes a sweeping gesture with his free hand. The street is sparsely lit by the occasional street light, and there are indistinct shadowy shapes in the doorways.*

*Alanna squeaks as Corwin pulls her through. At the feel of his hand on her shoulder, she slowly opens her eyes. Astonished, she turns in a complete circle, gradually processing the foreign smells and sounds. Shivering slightly in the damp air, she waits as her eyes adjust to the thick darkness.*

It would have to be the port district. I can tell you right now, I'm not getting on a ship. *quirks an eyebrow* What are you doing in such an unsavory area, Prince? Does Amber's royalty walk freely among thieves and murderers? *Alanna adds a silent entreaty* Forgive me, George.

*Corwin raises a single eyebrow and smirks* Amber's royalty walks wherever they damn well please in their own realm.

*He begins to walk down the way marked "Seabreeze Lane"* I was in the mood for some fresh fish, and the best place to find that is near the docks. As it turns out, the best place for seafood in all the realm is here on Death Alley.

*Corwin chuckles, but the laugh doesn't reach his eyes, which are busy warning those blurry shadow to keep their distance* It's a shame; the most savory seafood is in the most unsavory area.

*It suddenly hits Alanna that she is out of Milliways for the first time in over two months. She takes a deep breath, ignoring the slightly rank smell. Instead, she relishes her newfound sense of freedom and fairly skips to keep up with Corwin. She notices the shadowy figures, but nothing seems to diminish her broad, hopeful smile.*

Fresh fish from Death Alley? Mithros, your Amber is proving to be a most interesting land. Are we heading to another pub then? *laughs* Wonderful. My first excursion in months and you take me from one pub to another. *playfully* Is this how you treat all the ladies, Corwin?

*Corwin grins as he opens the door to a particularly seedy-looking establishment. He is pleased to see her mood lightening.*

Only the best for my friends... ah, here we are -- Bloody Bill's.

*Behind the ancient bar to the right stands a grizzled old barkeep. To the right are the tables, some of which are occupied by the ten or twelve unpleasant patrons of the pub. The floor is decorated with suspicious stains of a variety of colors. A dusty chalkboard on the back proclaims that albacore is the catch of the day. Corwin approaches the bar.*

Two of the day's special and a bottle of Bayle's Piss. We'll be seated over there. *points to a table by the wall*

*to Alanna* Shall we sit?

*Alanna's eyebrows shoot up as she enters. Although she is no stranger to seedy establishments, she can't help but compare the interior to that of the Dancing Dove. George enjoyed a bustling business, but remained fastidious. Her eyes automatically take the measure of all current customers, and she's a bit wary of what she sees. Glancing at Corwin, she gives him a thin smile and gestures to a particularly gruesome looking stain by her boot.

*grins recklessly* I think a better question is, should we? *Lightly jabbing Corwin in the side, she leads the way to the table.*

*As they take their seats, Corwin sets Grayswandir on the table. It wouldn't hurt to advertise the fact that they were armed. Once he was sure all the other patrons noticed, he turned his attention to Alanna.*

So, lady knight, what spurred on this excursion? General wanderlust, or something specific?

*Alanna follows Corwin's example and places Werewindle on the table. She turns the sword so that the hilt is in easy reach. Blowing out a breath, she ponders where to begin.*

A little of both, I believe. It's no secret that my feet have been itching to travel since the day I arrived in Milliways. However, my position has helped greatly. *grimaces* No, it was a more personal matter that drove home the need to try and leave the bar.

*Alanna looks around the room, desperately wishing the food would arrive and give her more time to think of a response that didn't lay her emotions bare. No such luck.*

It's... complicated. *looks in his eyes* You know my reasons for staying. *harsh laugh* As it turns out, I don't think Thom cares one way or the other if I leave. I can no longer shirk my duty based on my desire to spend time with my dead brother, especially when said brother is indifferent to my presence.

*sadly* I will miss my friends, however... if I can't get back.

*Corwin frowns slightly* Having never met Thom, I can't speak to his attitude towards your presence. However, I do know a thing or two about stubborn siblings, and I know that they often keep their true feelings hidden... sometimes even from themselves. You may find that a leave of absence from the bar is just the thing to draw those feelings out into the light. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," they say.

*The barkeep approaches with two plates of fish, two glasses, and a bottle of slightly-yellow wine. The bottle's label bears the image of a dog.* Thanks.

*Corwin pours a bit of wine in each glass and hands one to Alanna.* It's not the best Amber has to offer, but it's not bad for quaffing.

*Alanna accepts the glass. However, she is well acquainted with Corwin's deplorable taste in beverages, and eyes it warily. Screwing her face into a preemptive grimace, she takes a hurried drink. It is surprisingly good. Intrigued, she grabs the bottle and studies the label.*

I can not pretend to know what goes on inside Thom's head, but I suspect you are right. I know he loves me, deep down. I'm just not sure that he banked on me sharing his afterlife for any extended period of time. *Sighing, she sets the bottle back on the table and turns her gaze to Corwin.* The truth of the matter is, he might be right. It's not... natural. *bites her lip* However, I'm hoping that the Goddess will allow me to travel back and forth between Tortall and Milliways. If I can find a way to keep the path between the two open, perhaps I can occasionally indulge my desire to spend a quiet evening catching up with my twin. *Smiling, she leans over and and touches his arm* As well as sharing a drink with new friends.

*Alanna pokes delicately at her fish, finally flaking off a piece and eating it. Her eyes light up at the flavor.*

Mithros, that IS good!

*Corwin swirls his wine in his glass* Baron Bayle is official vintner to Amber's court, and his red wines are excellent. His whites, however, are less satisfying... hence the "Bayle's Piss" appellation. Still, it's not so bad.

*He takes a bit of fish and leans in on his elbows as he studies Alanna.* I see no reason why you should not be able to return; a number of the patrons, myself included, have been able to come and go pretty much as we please.

As for the "unnatural" nature of spending time with your deceased brother... he was drawn to that bar for a reason, as were you. Perhaps your Goddess willed it be so, in which case I would hesitate to label the situation "unnatural".

*Corwin smiles and winks.* Of course, I could just be rationalizing. The bar would be a much dimmer place without your presence to brighten it.

I know this. However, most of them seem able to identify their point of entry. I do not know how I arrived at Milliways. One moment I was on Moonlight's back, enjoying the warmth of the desert sun, and the next I was at the bar. For all I know, I fell off Moonlight's back and died. *laughs harshly* Wouldn't that be a strange twist of fate?

I suspect the Goddess had a hand in my journey to Milliways, but I do not sense her presence there. *frowns* In fact, I know she no longer guides me. My experience with Roger confirms that. I've been left to my own devices.

*A wistful smile drifts across her face at his kind words.* I appreciate your flattery, Corwin. You share Roger's gift for charm, but yours is genuine. *looks into his eyes* Thank you for allowing me this opportunity. It has greatly emboldened me.

*Alanna munches on another piece of fish and lets her eyes wander the pub's interior. A log shifts in the large hearth, causing the fire to rage higher and belch smoke in their direction. Blinking in the hazy air, Alanna catches sight of two scruffy looking men entering the pub. Both are dressed in the haphazard, mismatched way of dangerous ruffians, and the taller of the two moves his coat aside to reveal a black dagger strapped to his waist. Awaiting service at the bar, they slowly scan the room with an air of supremacy. The tall one scrutinizes Alanna and Corwin a touch longer than he does the other patrons, but his gaze eventually moves on. Finishing his assessment of the crowd, he returns his attention to the busy barkeep. Alanna's eyes narrow and she leans toward Corwin.*

I don't like the looks of those two... not one bit.

*Corwin turns to inspect the two new patrons.* Nor do I, but I will give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they are wise enough to leave us in peace.

*Turns back to Alanna and smiles... but also rests his hand on Grayswandir* If nothing else, you have my Trump. So far, there's been no trouble with them operating in the bar, so I could always bring you through. However, I rather think you won't have a problem returning.

I'm not certain how I feel about being compared to the duke...

*Corwin grins behind his glass as he takes another drink, but the grin disappears as he hears the unmistakable sound of boots on wood. The two men are approaching the table...*

*quirks an eyebrow* Faith. It's a wonder you survive in your own country, your Highness. *Smirking, she mockingly draws out his title, but soon sobers.* Do you think the Trump would work between the bar and Tortall? *Alanna grins as Corwin rests his hand on his sword. Rather than draw unwelcome attention by doing the same, she reaches instead for her dagger. Surreptitiously drawing the blade under the table, she lets it rest on her lap and continues enjoying the fish.*

I was not comparing you to the Duke, Corwin. I was merely highlighting the difference between false and sincere charm. It was naught but a compliment.

*Alanna reaches across Corwin for the wine bottle, and catches sight of the two ruffians in her peripheral vision. Groaning, she grabs the bottle and sits back in her chair, resolved to ignore them until they speak. The tall one fairly struts across the room, his every motion indicative of his arrogance. The smaller man's eyes are constantly moving. He reminds Alanna of a trapped rat frantically searching for a means of escape should the need for self-preservation arise. He would be easily cowed. Grinning, she thinks, I'll let Corwin handle that one.*

*The two men reach the table and stand as though awaiting an invitation to pull up a chair. Neither Alanna nor Corwin glance their way. Alanna leans over and grabs a stray piece of plump fish off Corwin's plate, winking with insincere apology. Tired of waiting for Corwin and Alanna to cower appropriately at their presence, the tall one pulls out a chair and sits down roughly, motioning for his companion to do the same. He smiles broadly, his teeth blackened by neglect. A whiff of his foul breath hits Alanna and she wrinkles her nose.*

'ello, 'ello. Wot are you two lovies doin' out and about these here docks? Yeh don't look like locals. Do they look all local-like to yeh, Reg?

*Alanna turns to Corwin* Charming place you found us.

*Corwin grins* It's all part of the ambiance, my dear.

*Corwin turns to address the taller fellow.* You aren't very bright, are you? I'm the very definition of a local, and you are interrupting.

*The eyes of the one named Reg stare covetously at the pure silver of Grayswandir and the glinting gold of Werewindle.* Lookit 'at, Rufus. Them swords'd fetch us a few.

*Rufus smiles wider.* Well, me lovies, it seems Reg wants yer swords. I'll take what yeh've got in yer pockets.

*Corwin takes a drink of his wine.* Piss off.

*Rufus's grin disappears.* Git up and empty your pockets.

*Corwin smiles* Here's the problem, Rufus. We're quite comfortable right now, and if we have to stand, we're likely to get testy. And, if we get testy, we're likely to kill you, and I doubt that's something you want.

*Alanna calmly takes a sip of wine and gives Rufus a level stare.* I'd be careful trying to handle those two blades if I were you. *brazenly* They don't take kindly to being pawed by anyone but their rightful owners.

*As Corwin handle Rufus' demand that they empty their pockets, Alanna checks out the darkened corners of the pub. She isn't surprised to see additional lowlifes rousing from their drunken stupors at the first hint of potential strife. A bald, fat thief rolls off of a nearby bench. His pockets bulge with the evening's catch: a rich gentleman's pocket watch, a bejeweled dagger and a curious assortment of hat pins and rings. Alanna tilts her head and studies the man's turgid face. Biting her lip she flashes the sign of the Rogue. The thief continues to eye them menacingly.*

Eh, it was worth a shot. *turns to Corwin.* I don't know about you, but I'm starting to sense that we aren't particularly welcome here. How very odd. I find us to be most excellent company.

*Rufus leers at Alanna* You can stay, pet. There's plenty of us here to go 'round. Long as we can keep yer treasures when you've worn yerself out. *cackles*

*Taking advantage of her turned back, the fat thief lunges at Werewindle. Alanna quickly slams his hand against the table and drives her dagger between two of his fingers with a satisfying thunk. The dull sound of steel splitting wood is enough to turn the thief's sweaty face sheet white.*

*wryly* Perhaps you did not hear my companion's warning? You would do well to listen with both ears rather than your greed.

*Hoping to capitalize on the distraction of Alanna dealing with the fat thief, Reg rushes the table. Corwin shoots to his feet and trips him, catching him by the hair mid-fall and slamming his head against the table. He lifts the unconscious thug and casts him aside with his left hand while raising Grayswandir with his right. Rufus draws his black dagger and begins cautiously to approach; behind him, the other patrons close in like a pack of dogs. Corwin turns to Alanna and chuckles.*

It would appear they are not as wise as I'd hoped. I guess this is what I get for having a little faith in my fellow man.

Perhaps this is some rite of passage.

*Alanna's face is completely expressionless as she moves toward Rufus. The blackguard smiles condescendingly, blowing her a kiss and motioning suggestively with his dagger.*

I'm sorry, was that directed at me or my companion?

*Smiling thinly, she delivers a swift punch to a drunk pickpocket lunging her direction. Positive that Corwin is handling his group of attackers with aplomb, she focuses on Rufus. With a feral roar, Rufus attempts to grab her free arm and stab her in the side. Easily deflecting the blow, Alanna spins to the left and counter attacks. Two kicks and a punch in the gut later, Rufus is on his knees, calling her all manner of foul names as blood trails down his face. Alanna turns to deal with another attacker, suffering a blow to her cheek before angrily lashing out with extremely effective Shang punches and kicks. Seeing an opportunity, Rufus grabs his discarded knife and lines up his throw. Corwin shouts out a warning and manages to knock Rufus to the right. Head swiveling at Corwin's yell, Alanna jumps back and narrowly avoids being stabbed in the shoulder.*

Thanks, Prince. It seems I owe you one. Er... to your LEFT!

*Corwin spins at Alanna's warning... but unfortunately not quick enough to dodge the blow to his face. Fireworks explode behind his eyes, and for a moment he lashes out blindly. As his vision clears, Corwin sees a squat thug bearing down on him. He brushed the assailant's punch and stepped in, delivering a quick jab to the throat followed by a swift knee to the crotch.

Noticing an approaching blur in his periphery, Corwin grabs the doubled-over form of his former assailant and whips him around as a shield, just in time to intercept the thrust of a rather rusty sabre. The wiry and obviously scared thug on the opposite end of the sword turns to run... only to encounter a well-timed punch from Alanna. He yelps and falls to the floor unconscious.*

*Alanna and Corwin continue to battle it out until they've effectively incapacitated the majority of the pub's customers, the barkeep and one regrettably innocent bystander. Both the Prince and the Knight are sporting some rather astonishing bruises and scrapes. Their clothes are streaked with blood, sweat and grime, yet both wear similarly pleased smiles that lend them a slight aura of insanity.*

*breathing heavily* Looks like we've cleared a path, Corwin. Shall we vacate the premises?

*Alanna retrieves Werewindle and wades through the groaning bodies littering the floor and hanging onto chairs. Approaching the front of the pub, she yanks out a single Gold Noble and flips it onto the bar.*

Thank you, all of you, for a pleasant evening. I would stay and buy you all a drink, but Corwin and I know of a less hostile establishment. In any case, I heartedly recommend the fish.

*Alanna walks outside. She takes a deep breath and relishes the feel of her aching muscles. Stretching her arms toward the night sky, she turns to Corwin with a wicked grin.*

Why was that so much fun?

*Corwin's loud laughter echos down the street* I think your time ensuring the peace of Milliways has left you rather starved for a little action. Come on, I've worked up quite a thirst, and I don't feel much like walking back in that place for the remains of our wine.

*Corwin pulls the Trump for Milliways from his belt and clasps one hand on Alanna's shoulder.* Concentrate on this card as you would my Trump.

*As they stare at the card, the image of the bar begins to gain a third dimension...*

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