the_lioness | (no subject)

Sentries alerted him to Alanna riding toward the Swoop well before she reaches the courtyard. By the time she's finished taking care of settling Mithros into the stables, George is already waiting for her by the main door of the Keep. From the wide grin on his face there can be no doubt he's pleased to see her, but he suspects this isn't merely a social visit.

"Hullo lass." he says, "Welcome to my... humble abode."

"Humble?" she croaks, casting a dubious glance at the towering walls.

His familiar grin pulls her forward, bolstering her nerve, and her stride is impatient as she hurries in for a hug.

"I'm glad to see you, George." It's solemn.

He follows her gaze and clears his throat. "Ok, well possibly not that humble. I'll give you the tour later, assuming you have time.."

He hugs her tightly. "It's always good to see you."

"I find I have more time on my hands than previously expected," is said quietly into his shirt. "I'd love a tour."

Several moments pass before she's willing to draw back. When she does, her eyes flit to his and then away again, as she stalls by taking in her surroundings.

"It suits you."

And it does.

More time than expected - that doesn't bode well. A bored Alanna is never a good thing.

Her observations on the Swoop are obviously an attempt to stall, but he doesn't call her on it. Instead he allows himself to be diverted. He's been looking forward to the chance of showing the Swoop to her.

"You think so?" he asks, curiously. "There are days I question how I came to live in such a grand place as this, a low-born fellow like myself. Still, much to my surprise, it's really started to become home."

Alanna closes her eyes to avoid meeting his again. A deep breath brings with it the smell of the sea, and she sighs.

"I believe you once lectured me not to equate birth with worth." She makes a face and looks behind him, at the door he'd come through. It's too dark to see inside, but there's the sense of someone hovering just out of sight, ready to serve, and the eyes of others watching them. "I've ridden hard today. Any chance I could trouble you for tea?"

The need to talk in private is implied.

"Aye, that I did." he agrees. "P'rhaps one day I'll learn to heed my own words of wisdom. However, while we wait for that day that may or may not come..." he trails off, grinning at her.

"Look at me, making you stand outside - what sort of a host am I? If my dear mother knew, she would never let me hear the end of it."

He wraps a casual arm around one of Alanna's shoulders, gently steering her toward the door. "Let's get you something to eat and drink."

A snort.

"I'll be sure not to tell your mother," she jokes. "Especially because she'll be decidedly disappointed I didn't invite her along. But it's not really a planned visit, after all, and I can't stay very long..."

Aware that she's babbling, she trails off and shoots him a sheepish smile as they walk inside. The change in light makes her blink until her eyes adjust, and then she lets out a low whistle.

"Mithros, it is lovely." And huge.

Her reaction makes him smile fondly at her.

There'd been a time when he imagined that they might have shared this place together - had things gone differently between them. Still, he's pleased he can show his home to his oldest and dearest friend.

"Aye. You'll have to visit some time when you're not on business," he says gently, without any reproach in his voice. "Bring Adam and the children and stay a while..."

He'd like that.

So would Alanna.

She's happy. She loves Adam and the children. However, she's also human; standing here with George, she can't help wondering what if.

"I think I will," she answers, eyes glazing over as her thoughts head elsewhere. Then, "I'm sure you could use a proper hand with smugglers and raiders."

A quick smile and she moves ahead, all nervous energy, and shows herself into what looks like a library.

"I might have to take you up on that offer - you'd send them home with their tails between their legs, on your reputation alone."

The room might serve her purposes, away as it is from potentially prying eyes/ears.

"It's not a big a library as some, but we've got some reputedly rare works here. Your father has spent quite a bit of time in this room," he says chuckling. "As I'm sure you can imagine. Last time he visited it was all I could do to keep him from camping out on the floor after the sun set."

"If I claimed to be surprised, I'd only make a liar of myself. Perhaps we'd better bring Myles and your mother to visit as well. They might suffer acute disappointment if we do not," says Alanna.

It's really not like her to make the obvious sort of small talk.

There's a window overlooking the sea and she goes to stand before it, watching the waves without seeing them.

"The doors to Milliways are gone."

Apparently the time for avoidance is at an end.

For a moment he's convinced he must have misunderstood her. The doors can't just be gone.

"What?"

"They're gone," she repeats.

Face grim, she turns and faces him.

"I thought it might just be the one at Olau, but I went to see Jon, and he can't get back either."

What about you? is left unsaid.

"Gone." he repeats.

Stunned he motions her toward an empty chair, dropping into one of his own - mind already working out how long it's been since he last returned from the bar.

"It's been several days since I've been able to get away from the Swoop - I've not been to the Dove in... p'rhaps six days?" he says, frowning thoughtfully. "I used the door when I returned from the bar. The doors at the palace and Olau are both gone?"

"Aye. And the door at the Dove," she adds in a small voice. "I went by before I left Corus."

That's it, then. They're all gone. A part of Alanna had been hoping George had found another way.

She sinks into the chair and sighs.

And the Dove.

"That means all the doors are gone."

He's lost in the magnitude of that information for a time - before a another thought occurs to him.

"Are we - I mean." He's not sure how to word his question. "Are those of us who come and go from here and the Bar, here? Jon, Thayet. I know Myles is at Olau - he sent a message to me by courier letting me know that you and Adam and the children were there."

He doesn't dare ask about Thom. At least, not until he has more information.

There's relief in her eyes when she answers, "Those of us who come and go, aye, and one Raphael."

A faint wince.

"I haven't told him yet."

"Thank the Goddess." he says, half to himself.

Raphael. He only knows of one Raphael.

"...Mike's brother?"

She nods.

"He's been staying with us for the last few months. I don't think he intended it to become permanent. His brother-"

Breaking off, she sets her mouth in a thin line and looks out the window again.

He choice of words draws him up short.

"Permanent. I'd not even considered it might be a permanent situation." he says with a groan. "I was thinking days, perhaps weeks - not months or years."

Or forever.

Alanna is feeling pessimistic.

"I hope not, but it's a possibility." Her eyes seek his in the faint afternoon light. "Perhaps this is my punishment."

"Punishment for what?" he says, "I haven't the slightest notion what you're referring to."

Hands uncharacteristically shaky, Alanna pushes her hair back and holds it, biting her lip until she trusts her voice to prove steady.

Not even Adam knows what she's been thinking, though he likely suspects.

"For bringing Thom back to life."

He surges to his feet and over to her chair - the vanished doors now the furthest thing from his thoughts. He grasps her lightly by the cheekbones, so she cannot look away from his face. Well, not without effort anyway.

"Alanna, what would give you such a ridiculous notion?!" he says, his voice a bit unsteady. "This has naught to do with you, or anything you've done. You meddled in the affairs of the gods, yes - I'm not denying that. But the gods we know are bound here, they don't have the power to affect what happens to us in the Bar, nor do I think they'd be so inclined to take away the doors. And I promise you, these are not just empty words to reassure you - you have my word on this."

He searches her face intently, seeing an almost childlike uncertainty there and guilt that he'd do just about anything to banish. He drops a hand to her right shoulder and squeezes it gently.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner you still carried this much guilt for Thom, lass. I ought to have seen it."

It takes a few moments, but she manages to give him a wobbly smile.

"I have some talent at hiding things." She swallows; touches his cheek. "All I can think is that I didn't get to say goodbye."

The words makes sense, but she still doesn't believe them. All along, she's known there would be a price to pay for her deed.

George has known Alanna long enough to clearly see she doesn't believe him - much as she may want to. Well, it can be a long term project they can work toward, after this mess gets sorted out. If it gets sorted out. he thinks, rather bleakly.

"Thom knows you love him, Alanna - there's no question of that. And until we have real evidence to the contrary, I for one am going to operate under the assumption that we will see him again." There's an element of fierceness to his tone here, though not directed at her. Thom, for all his faults is family.

He sighs, relinquishes his hold on her shoulder and walks over to pull a discrete braided rope that hands from the ceiling and pulls it. Within seconds, a member of his staff is standing at the door to the library.

"Yes your lordship?"

"Alora, if you'd please bring us a tray - tea, something to eat and possibly a bottle of the Olau red?" he shoots a questioning look at Alanna.

This proves the more effective balm for her guilt and worry. After drawing a deep breath, she pulls herself together and nods.

"Indeed. Thank you," she adds.

When Alora makes a curtsey and leaves, Alanna stands again. She's not one for sitting after a long ride.

"George-" She bites her lip. "So what occupies your time, when you're here?"

"All sorts of things," he says settling back down into his chair - watching Alanna pace is exhausting in and of itself.

"Day to day running of the Swoop is gen'rally handled by the staff and I've got to admit I'd be utterly lost without them. I had no idea how things were done here when I arrived. But I've got to approve all the spending, organizing the local militia and guards Jon has sent to protect the locals from pirates and bandits - as you well know - and of course, there's my work for Jon..."

He trails off catching sight of Alora, returning with the tray.

"Ah, thank you Alora." he says, smiling at her as she settles the tray on one of the small tables.

She returns the smile, curtsies again to George "your Lordship" and to Alanna "Lioness" an quickly departs again, closing the doors to the library behind her.

George motions Alanna toward the tray. "Go on, eat and drink something. You'll feel somewhat better."

"Yes, your Lordship," she smirks.

Some things are hard to resist, even in the midst of stress.

After perusing the tray, Alanna smooths honey on a piece of bread and gives him a thoughtful look.

"I haven't heard anything out of Carthak. It makes me uneasy."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Nothing at all? Nothing from their priests or prophets, no gossip from the nobles?"

Shaking her head, Alanna takes a bite and chews slowly. It gives her time to think.

"Gossip, yes. Vapid, inconsequential gossip. Nothing at all about where we stand with them. No overtures from the Emperor." Another bite. "It seems strange. But I suppose we have plenty of time to address it."

She lowers the bread from her mouth and sighs.

"I'm going to miss everyone."

It takes him a moment to realize she's gone from speaking about Carthak to the Bar.

"I know you will, lass. I will too." he says with a sigh. A thought has only just occurred to him. "And we've responsibilities as well as friends there. I wonder what Mike will think when I simply stop showing up for my shifts."

He pours himself a glass of wine.

"And we've no way to even send them a message. Where will you go after this?" he asks her.

"Olau, to tell Raph," she answers, assuming he means directly after this. Alanna isn't sure she wants to think about the alternative meaning. She knows what she'll do in the months to come.

She also knows what she won't be able to do, and yes, the responsibilities have been weighing heavily on her mind.

"Can I have my tour now?"

For the next few hours, she doesn't want to think about the end of the universe. She just wants to be Alanna and George again, two people who have been best friends since well before they heard of Milliways.

And who are still best friends, in spite of everything that happened there.

George sips the wine as she speaks. "When you leave to return to Olau, I think I'll head for the palace. I think it best I speak to our beloved Monarch and to my Lord Provost."

He drains the glass, returns it to the tray and rises to his feet. He offers an arm to Alanna - a deliberately grand and theatrical gesture - hoping to make her smile.

"Aye, I think that a tour ought to be our next order of business. Shall we?"

It will keep them both distracted. For the next while, he will play the host and enjoy her company. As for what comes next - he supposes only time will tell.