the_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

"JON."

Alanna's shout announces her presence long before the stomping feet and the crash of the door against the wall.

"JO... oh."

"Do you mind?" says Lord Denby, a stodgy man from the East.

To her credit, Alanna looks mildly chagrined at finding someone with Jon in his private audience chamber. It doesn't last. "I need to speak with His Highness."

"And so do I, which is why I scheduled an appointment."

"I would have scheduled an appointment, had I known this particular problem would arise." Lies. To Jon: "It's important. One might even consider it a matter of universal significance."

Hello, Jon. Isn't it nice when Alanna drops by?

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Jon winces internally, but manages to keep his expression even as Alanna comes loudly into the room.

He stands, hands in a placating gesture. "My lord, if you will give me just a moment, I promise, we will continue our conversation. Lioness?"

He turns to Alanna, opens the door to the hallway and fixes her with a Look. He doesn't need to say anything more, simply turns and walks out, trusting she will follow.

She does, and his Look is met with an attempt at chagrin that stays in place just as long as it takes to breeze past him. Before he can deliver what even she must admit is a well-deserved lecture, she grabs his forearms and forces him to meet her eyes.

"Jon. When were you last in Milliways?"

Jon's mouth, which was open to deliver said lecture, closes in confusion. He tilts his head and thinks for a second.

"At least a month, I think. Things have been fairly busy around here. Why?"

Alanna mutters an oath.

"We can't get back." Eyes following a servant walking nearby, she lowers her voice to a whisper. "Our door disappeared."

"What?" Jon keeps his voice low, but his face is worried.

"Stay here." He pokes his head back in to the chamber. "My lord, I'm very sorry but I'm going to be a bit longer."

He closes the door behind him and takes Alanna's arm, guiding her down the hallway to his bedroom suite, his face grim.

The Lioness resists the urge to make a face at Lord Denby over the King's shoulder, which is surely a sign of her growing concern. Also uncharacteristic is the way she allows Jon to steer her forward, though it's not long until her hand finds his for a quick squeeze.

And she doesn't seem to want to let go.

Jon looks at her, his face growing more worried as they step into his chambers. There is a small door in the side, leading to a closet of some kind. Jon halts before, and turns to Alanna, her hand still clasped in his.

"This is the door Thayet and I usually use to get there."

A nod, as she gives him a long, searching look.

"Then you should open it," she decides, voice unusually small. One last squeeze and she works her hand out of his.

Jon squeezes her hand in return and nods, turning towards the door. He grasps the knob, turning it slowly and pushing it open.

The door slips back, revealing a small, dusty closet, empty except for a trunk and a few very old pairs of shoes.

Jon sucks in a breath.

(Thom)

Silent, Alanna chews on her lip. Hope doesn't fade slowly; it's gone in a sharp whoosh of pain, the sensation making her stomach knot. Before he'd opened that door, it was easy enough to believe the problem was random, some force interfering with Olau. But this is deliberate. This is a message.

This is a problem that even they can't overcome.

She curses.

"We should check the Dove," is added dully at the tail end of several expletives.

Jon is King now, which helps him keep his curses inside his head. He can't help admiring with black humor Alanna's skill with swearing even as he shakes his head.

"Would it really do any good? It's magic, Alanna. If two are closed, why would the others be open?"

"Because I refuse to accept this," she growls. "It can't just-

A hand swirls through the air.

"-disappear. What about Adam? What about Raph? Oh, Goddess. Raph."

"Raph?" The question is fairly absent, as Jon is busy running his hands over the door, pressing and probing it, sapphire light following his hands.

"Mike's brother," she explains, pacing behind him. "They came for an Earth holiday, and he's still here. On the wrong side of the door."

Purple light joins sapphire, in the vain hope that they can simply will it open.

"Mithros," Jon swears, and takes Alanna's hand, directing their Gifts at the door.

To no avail.

Alanna stomps her foot.

When that doesn't work either, she snatches her hand away and goes to stand by the window, staring at precisely nothing.

"I don't understand," she says, and everything about her is suddenly subdued.

Jon shakes his head, still staring at the door.

"I don't either. It doesn't make sense."

He crosses over to her and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

She's stiff, even if she does offer his reflection a small, reflexive smile.

"No. People I know, yes. The door has come back for some, but..." She swallows. "It can take years."

Jon's hand tightens a bit on her shoulder. He's quiet for a minute or so, the two of them staring out over the spread of land.

"Whatever happens, we will deal with it. At least we aren't alone here."

"I feel awful for saying it," she admits, "but I can only thank the Goddess none of us are in Raph's position, stuck on the wrong side. I don't know what I would have done."

Alanna turns, running her hand through her hair. Her fingers stick on a tangle.

"I should ride to see George."

Jon nods fervantly. "This could have been much much worse." He doesn't want to think about the state of the country if he was trapped away.

Jon reaches out and smoothes her hair. "Yes, but be careful. Keep your mind on the riding."

Frowning up at him, she bats at his hand.

"Why wouldn't I? I would have gone to see the Swoop before now, but I haven't had the time." Blink, blink. "Oh. Because of the doors."

Alanna turns an interesting shade of red.

Jon surprises himself by letting out a short laugh. He takes her arms and pulls her to him, pressing his forehead to hers.

"Oh, Alanna. I would be in a much worse position if you weren't here."

He squeezes her, then releases her with a small smile.

"Naturally." A sly smile. "The kingdom would crumble about your ears."

And, as unhappy as she feels, it does her good to remember they've been in much worse situations than this. They'll figure out how to get the doors back.

Somehow.

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