the_lioness | (no subject)

There's a short, dark-haired boy sitting in the lower branches of one of the trees.

"Going to stab me, Alan?"

Alanna glances up swiftly, the tension draining out of her shoulders as soon as she realizes who is perched in the tree.

"Not today, Alex." She smirks. "What are you doing up there?"

"Ah well, we'll find a day soon enough."

He grins and swings his feet. "I'm not allowed to sit in a tree?"

"On the contrary, Alex." She watches his swinging feet. "I grew up climbing trees in the forests around the Grimhold Mountains. I would never tell anyone not to take advantage of an accessible trunk and good, sturdy limb. Besides, it provides an enviable vantage point and an opportunity to drop down upon an unsuspecting enemy."

She looks up again, calmly assessing him.

He wrinkles his nose.

"We're not in lessons right now, Alan, don't you ever do anything for fun?"

She blinks, the words striking a little too close to home. Fun? Who had time for fun? She was always racing to catch up...

"I can have fun." She sticks her chin out stubbornly and eyes the tree. "Just watch me." Determined, she stalks toward the trunk, finds the appropriate hand holds and begins to pull herself upward. She scurries up the trunk expertly and soon finds a decent limb to perch on. It's to the left and slightly below Alex's, and this bothers her. She's not sure why.

He grins down at Alan.

"Y'know, it's not fun if you're doing it to prove a point, youngster."

She glares at him, leaning dangerously to the side in order to swat playfully at his boot. Boys would do that, right? She frowns, adding a shove for extra emphasis.

"But proving a point is fun, Alex." Alanna glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of her lingering anxiety.

He laughs and grabs at the branch to balance himself, then easily jumps down, landing with light catlike grace.

They always did call him a cat, didn't they?

"Whatever you say, Alan."

Unreasonably irritated that she didn't manage to unseat him, she follows him to the ground. She lands with much less grace, turning her ankle slightly. Biting her lip to avoid cring out, she straightens. Knights don't show pain. Her lips curve into a semblance of a smile.

"How are you, Alex? I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Hey, careful there, short stuff. Don't get yourself hurt or anything."

He shrugs, kneeling by the base of the tree and peering at something in the long grass.

"Been busy. Happens when you become a squire, you'll see."

He straightens up, holding a black rose with viciously long, sharp thorns.

"Don't call me that." Her eyes flash with annoyance. "I may be short, but I'm just as strong as the rest of you. Fast, too. I'll make a good Squire. Just you wait." She bites her lip. Page, then Squire, then... Ordeal. Goddess. Alanna eyes the rose curiously. Anything to avoid thinking about the Ordeal. "Where did you get that?"

He blinks.

"Okay, Alan, sorry. Mithros, you're touchy today. It's not like I can talk, I'm not much taller than you are. And I never said you weren't strong. We've all seen that you are."

He looks at the rose, turning it in his fingers.

"It was growing by the tree. Weird, most flowers don't grow like that."

Alanna looks vaguely sheepish, but stubbornly refuses to comment. Control your temper, you fool. Who are you trying to convince that you can keep up with the others? Him or you?

She reaches out and cautiously touches one of the thorns.

"I've never seen a black flower before. It's both hideous and oddly beautiful. Is it a portent, I wonder?"

"There's some black orchids growing back home, but not a lot, and not truly black, I don't think."

He tilts his head, looking at the rose, then shrugs.

"Does everything odd have to be a portent?"

Uneasy, Alanna studies his eyes.

"Perhaps not, but I prefer to err on the side of caution." She shrugs. "I believe it shows respect to the gods."

He frowns, considering the rose, then shrugs and tosses it aside.

"You know my stance on that, Alan. Respect to the gods is all very well but if I'd wanted to be eternally pious I'd've been a convent boy."

Alanna watches the rose arc through the air and land on the hard ground. Its petals shimmered for just a moment before turning to dust. She shivers. Staring at the rose's remains, she speaks quietly, her face thoughtful.

"Eternal piety has nothing to do with it. You are a fool if you think your life is untouched by the gods at one point or another."

She glances at Alex, starting when she sees a shadow hovering behind him. She tries to warn him, but the cry lodges ineffectively in her throat. She draws her dagger, preparing to take careful aim, when the shadow suddenly dissipates into nothing more than a faint swirl of dust.

"Great Merciful Mother..." Alanna's eyes are wide with surprise.

"I never said that, either."

He looks at Alan, tilting his head as the younger boy draws his dagger.

"I'm not going to attack you, Alan..."

There are slender silver cuffs around his wrists. He doesn't seem to notice.

"No." She shakes her head, still gripping her dagger tightly. "I thought I saw something behind you. I wouldn't think that of you, Alex." A voice in the back of her head intones: not yet, anyway. Spotting the odd flash of silver, Alanna moves closer. "Who binds you, Alex?"

He frowns.

"Nobody binds me, Alan. What're you talking about?"

Almost-invisible threads lead from the cuffs at his wrists, from his ankles and back and neck. Leading up and vanishing, like the strings of a marionette.

Feeling as if the world is spinning around them, Alanna grabs his wrists and lifts them. She stares at the cuffs and threads, a wave of panic washing over her. Her voice deepens and suddenly sounds far too old.

"You are bound in more ways than one. Although you had a choice, the shackles are far more confining than you ever thought they could be. Never forget who you are, Alex of Tirragen. We will all be tested before our time among mortals draws to a close." Shaking herself, she looks around for the source of that voice. Was that me speaking? It's like before... She shivers. "Why is it so cold?"

He shudders, staring at Alan.

"Don't. Don't --"

His own voice changes, subtly, sound older by a few years, the voice of a twenty-something man instead of a boy in his late teens.

"Don't blame yourself. I'm good at hiding, it's not your fault you didn't see."

"So good, in fact, that you are quite adept at hiding from yourself." She circles him slowly like a cat stalking its prey. Her voice changes again, softening with affection and an unconscious concern. "Alex of Tirragen, you are my friend. I would die protecting you, both from others and from yourself. Can you say the same of me?"

"I hid from myself for a long time."

With each revolution she makes, he gains months, a year with each turn, until he's twenty-three instead of sixteen, and his green eyes are full of regret and pain.

Whispering, "I would have died for you and them, if I'd had the choice. I would have betrayed him for all of you."

She pauses directly before him, chronologically twenty years of age, but with eyes that appear as old as time itself.

"He never gave you the opportunity to make that choice, my friend."

She circles him again.

"Would you have accepted it if I did? You stopped trusting me long ago. Long after I stopped trusting myself."

There are bruises on his face and hands and arms, a rosevine twined around his wrists with thorns digging into his skin, a shadow behind him that might be Francismight be Anthymight be Roger.

"It is possible to regain trust, Alex. Why do you hurt yourself so?"

Alanna stands before him again as Alan, her eyes alight with mischief. The forest floor transforms into a frozen lake, and Alanna's breath is visible as she speaks.

"I'm not scared. I'll take your bet and beat you at your own game, Tirragen." Smiling recklessly, Alanna begins to skate away, her movements awkward at best. She stops a few feet away and returns for him, lifting his bound hands up and over her head. She slowly winds her own arms around his waist like persistent ivy. Both pulling and clinging to him, she begins to skate backward. "Alex, Alex... If I go, you go. Isn't that the way it's always going to be? Neither of us is destined to ever fully beat the other." She looks up with an odd smile. "I think Shadow's back, but I'm here. He won't get you."

"Used to make it real. Now... I deserve it. They made that clear to me when I was there."

They're on an iced-over lake now, and he blindly follows her, matching his pace to hers. The rose vines tighten around his wrists, drawing blood with the thorns.

"Too equal. Equal in everything but a few." A wry grin, tinged with sadness. "You're better than me, 'Lanna. A better person. They made that clear to me, when I was there."

"A better person would have been able to save you, Alex. A better person would have found a way to incapacitate you without killing you." She stops and pulls him closer, the ice creaking beneath their feet. "I failed you, didn't I? Maybe we failed each other." The vines creep over Alanna's wrists, and she stars at them in horror. "Alex? I don't want to drown. Please don't do this."

"I forced you. I would've killed you, you had no sword, I was coming at you. You had no choice. The only people who could've incapacitated me without killing me are Roger and Duke Gareth."

He shakes his head, the vines creeping around his throat.

"You didn't fail me, 'Lanna. I failed myself."

He lifts his hands over her head and gently pulls back, reaching down to touch the vines around her wrists. They return to him, tangling around slender fingers, and he smiles sadly at her.

"You won't drown, 'Lanna. They don't want you."

Fuming, Alanna begins tearing at the vines, badly cutting her hands in the process.

"No." She yanks at the vines around his neck. "No, I won't let them take you. Not now."

The ice cracks.

He shoves Alanna away from him as the ice cracks, pushing her out of danger. There's no water beneath the cracked ice, just darkness. The rose vines wither in the cold and fall away. Alex looks at Alanna and smiles mirthlessly.

"The Black God doesn't give people up lightly, 'Lanna."

She shakes. "I've successfully pleaded with him before, Alex. I would do the same for you. He knows me, surely that counts for something?" Staring down, she takes a tentative step forward. "There's nothing to be afraid of. It's just darkness."

Distantly, "there was a room of darkness, and things moving within the darkness, moving and touching and hurting..."
It doesn't matter what I want, it doesn't matter what I need
He looks down at the darkness.
It doesn't matter if I cry, don't matter if I bleed
"I dream about it nearly every night. Three months wasn't enough to pay for what I did. I thought maybe if I hurt, if I suffered, it'd mean I could stay, that I'd be paying, that they wouldn't take me back."
Feel the sting of tears, falling on this face you knew for years

"We will find a way to make the dreams stop, Alex. Trust me." She leaps over the dark void and wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. "Trust me."

Feeling like I've been lost for years
He half-collapses against her, turning his head away from the void.

"I trust you...."
You can never understand me until you've seen those fears
Quietly, "I'm scared, 'Lanna."

She runs a hand over his hair and glares fiercely at the shadows behind him.

"I'm scared too. At least we can be scared together."

The shadows are not phased by her threatening look and swarm around them. Alanna feels a cold wind begin to blow and clings to Alex, both for his protection and her own.

"Ignore them. Ignore it all, and it will go away."

"They want me back, 'Lanna."
one thing is certain, the evil is stronger, good fights a hopeless and desperate fight
His hands tighten on hers, and he starts to shiver, partly from the chill wind, partly from fear.
why does he revel in murder and madness?
Tears stand in green eyes, and shadows coil around his ankles.
bring him back from the endless deep blackness of night
"Help me, Alanna..."

"But we want you back more, Alex. Thom and I do. Delia. Even Jon, Gary and Raoul. We will fight this. I won't abandon you like I did Francis. Never."

Her purple eyes darken with angry determination as she stomps at the shadows. Clinging to Alex, she mutters a few words, and they are instantly both surrounded by a bright purple light. Alanna smiles, not noticing that the shadows are gradually staining her Gift a dull orange-red.

"'Lanna -- your Gift -- stop, I don't --"
When does intelligence give way to madness?
He shakes his head, eyes wild.

"Alanna, no, stop -- it's infecting --"
Where is that fine line where sanity melts?

Alanna shivers despite the sudden beads of sweat on her forehead. "Why is it suddenly so hot?" She looks down, biting her lip. "It's not me, it's not you. It's all Roger. Always. Remember that, Alex."

The purple is slowly being replaced by the color of flames as Alanna grows increasingly nervous, her expression making her look eerily like Thom.

"I didn't know... Goddess."

it doesn't matter if I cry, don't matter if I bleed
"Alanna, stop, please, it'll take you--"
it doesn't matter if I cry, don't matter if I bleed
And there's a chill wind, and Alex stiffens, and tears of blood run down his face.
it doesn't matter if I cry, don't matter if I bleed
Quietly, "he wants me back. I haven't paid in full yet."
it doesn't matter if you cry, don't matter if you bleed

The bloody tears cause her to cry out in alarm. She looks down, tightening her arms around him.

"Maybe he wants me too."

Her tainted Gift burns her from within. This is what he felt. Heat like no heat you've experienced before. Pain. The knowledge that you are about to die.

"Thom... I'm so sorry."

He presses a hand against her chest, and Alex has never been Gifted so he shouldn't be able to draw the taint out like he is. A soft smile touches his lips.

"Roger always did like me best..."

Flames. Burning but not consuming.

"NO, ALEX!" Alanna shouts, the noise carried away on the fierce wind. "Don't!" She tries to break free, but he won't let go.

She flails.

Whimpering, Alanna sits straight up in bed and stares at the wall. Somehow, Peter is still asleep. She bites her lip until it bleeds.

Good. She's still alive.