(no subject)

[the_lioness]

"Why so glum, Alan? It's March."

Alanna looked up from her work, expecting to see Raoul or Gary's teasing smile. Never one to suffer the cold in silence, Alanna had taken much ribbing from her friends during the winter, and now that the first buds were blooming on the trees she knew they'd only laugh at her for soaking up the sun like a starving plant.

Except it was Alex speaking to her, and Alex hadn't teased her for a very long time.

Covering her surprise, Alanna gave the black-haired, green-eyed Alex of Tirragen a small smile and set down the cloth she had been using to polish her sword. He returned the smile in kind, expression cool and eyes guarded. "I'm not glum at all, Alex. I was just thinking."

"About?" Cat-like, he perched beside her on the low stone wall and watched a pair of horses being hitched to a wagon.

"Honestly?" She felt herself flush. "Swords."

Alex cocked his head to the side and smirked at her. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment and then slid away. "I'm shocked."

"You look it."

He acknowledged the sarcasm with a slight nod. "You've built up quite a reputation since your duel with Sir Dain."

Alanna ducked her head, smiling to herself. Alex taking note of her success pleased her more than she wanted to admit. They hadn't been close for a while, not like she was with the others, but she still thought of him as a friend. "As have you since your Ordeal. I've heard it said you might be one of the best knights in all of Tortall."

"Might be?" Alex smirked again, the expression more at home on his face than the smile he'd attempted earlier.

"Humble, too." Alanna grinned.

Very seriously, "I took vows of humility, after all."

"They stuck."

Their banter faded into companionable if not entirely comfortable silence after that, and Alanna picked up her rag and slowly polished the purple stone in Lightning's hilt, getting lost in her thoughts once more. Alex spoke first: "It's not an easy thing being the best, is it? There's so much farther to fall. Or get knocked down."

Alanna tilted her head, considering. "Everyone is always looking for mistakes."

"The proverbial cracks in your armor."

"Your weaknesses."

"So they can exploit them," Alex agreed. His long-fingered hand came up like he was going to ruffle her coppery hair, but instead he tested Lightning's edge and met her eyes. "I'll have competition for best knight once you pass your Ordeal." Another smile made light of his words; it seemed a more honest effort, this time.

Alanna swallowed. If she passed her Ordeal. "I hope so. A knight should always strive to be better."

And I like being the best.

Alex's green eyes flashed a challenge at her before the words left his mouth. "Should we see where we stand now?"

The sounds of the busy courtyard faded until all Alanna could hear was the steady thump, thump of her heart. "Yes." She bit her lip and looked around. "Who should we get for a referee?"

He answered with sharp amusement. "I wasn't suggesting we wield our true blades. We can use practice swords and avoid bothering anyone else."

This is for us, he didn't need to say.

Alanna nodded. "Let's do it."


~~~


Inside one of the fencing courts where the crisp March winds would not disturb them, Alex and Alanna watched each other stretch, using the time to gauge how the other might move with a sword in hand. Alex was only half a head taller than Alanna, but he was strong where she was quick. Alanna couldn't keep a smile off her face. She had long wondered if she could measure up to her dark, serious friend.

The blunt practice swords in no way compared to Lightning or Alex's heavy blade, but at least they were both equally unfamiliar with the balance and heft. Saluting, they squared off and began the only dance Alanna would ever enjoy.

This will be fun, she thought, pure excitement pumping through her veins.

It wasn't.

Much later, Alanna would puzzle over where it all went wrong.

Alex wasted no time attacking, all his expertise evident in a complicated move that nearly took off her nose. Had she been a second slower, had she not relied on her swiftness in every duel she'd ever fought, her split-second jump backwards wouldn't have saved her. Watching him closely, she searched his muscles and face for some betrayal of his next move, but Alex was as gifted as Duke Gareth himself and had trained far too well to reveal his plan of attack.

The next few minutes mostly remained a blur.

He struck her from stomach to throat, taking her breath even though the dull blade drew no blood. He scratched her leg, tearing her hose and making her cry, "Alex! Be careful!"

His expression had gone from guarded to blank, emotionless, impenetrable. She got a good look at it when their blades locked and they were body-to-body, as Duke Gareth was fond of saying. Nothing was more dangerous for someone of Alanna's size, especially when her competitor was pushing down with all his force, determined to drive her to the floor.

Alanna got mad.

She managed to break away and knock his blade aside with a shout. After all, she was still Alanna, still the squire who beat Sir Dain in front of the entire court. She could do this, no matter that Alex was treating it like a real fight, and how dare he, anyway? But her blade struck Alex's cheek and her sense of honor reasserted itself, making her feel horrible for losing her temper.

"Alex, I'm sorry. Do you..."

"On guard," Alex whispered, his smirk returning, his chilling eyes reissuing the challenge; it was ugly this time, rotten with something she didn't fully understand. A reminder that she had trusted Dain to fight honorably, too.

Alanna sighed, not nearly as eager as she had been to prove herself. Not like this. Determined to see it through, however, she took the first opening she saw and struck. Alex was waiting. Down went Alanna, rolling out of habit more than concern, until Alex's blade struck inches from her head and gouged the wood beneath her. She rolled faster, heaving a breath, and jumped up. It wasn't fast enough for Alex's feline grace. He hit her ribs as she aimed for his side. Gasping, she lowered her sword and said, "I want to stop. Something's wrong!"

Alex didn't care. He kept coming at her, striking the blade she threw up just in time so hard that it sparked. Helpless to stop herself, Alanna searched out his eyes again, silently entreating her friend to cease this nonsense, but all she saw was cold, efficient determination and something dark. Very dark.

Sweat poured off her as she fought, as she slowly came to realize that Alex was responding like he truly wanted to kill her. Horror slithered down her spine and stole her breath, and when Alex lifted his sword over his head and brought it down on her with all his strength, she just managed to get her skull out of the way. He hit her shoulder instead.

Bone cracked with sickening clarity in the quiet practice court. Alanna cried out and fell to her knees, swallowing hard as Alex raised his sword once more, an executioner looking down upon the condemned.

He would strike at her with the same blow, the same arc through the air, shattering her head or breaking her neck and... there was nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing.

"Very interesting, Alex."

Alex's sword dropped to the fencing court floor with a loud clatter. Alanna heard nothing but her own labored breathing as she swayed on her knees, unclear on what had just happened, what had been happening, and who had spoken. Slowly, she dragged her eyes in the direction of the voice.

Sir Myles. Sir Myles, with Faithful puffed up beside him.

Thank the Goddess.

"You've certainly proved your better than Alan," he said, tone mild but cutting. "Of course you are four years older, and you have several battles to your credit. However, I think you two have played 'Best Warrior' long enough. Or didn't you realize you had injured Alan?"

Alex turned back around, blinking as if surprised to find Alanna on her knees. "Alan, I didn't... Here, let me help you up."

His eyes looked normal again, even worried, but Alanna wanted nothing more than to get away from him. "Don't touch me!" she snapped. Then, "Please, Alex. It's my collarbone. I think it's broken."

He joined her on the ground. "Alan, I'll never forgive myself..."

"It's all right," she replied hastily, trying not to throw up all over him. "We just got a little carried away. With my Gift I'll be fine in a couple of days."

It was clear that none of them believed that.

"Sir Myles, I didn't..."

"The Provost is looking for you," Myles told Alex, pinning the young knight with fixed attention. "I believe he has a border patrol ready. It must have been hard on you being cooped up this winter while everyone else got duties."

"If there's anything I can do," Alex said, standing over Alanna and rubbing his hand on his leg, like he still wanted to reach out and lift her up, brush her off and send her on her way.

She wanted him gone, wanted the sweat dripping down her temples to evaporate, wanted the pain to stop, but she managed a thin smile and a nod. "I'll let you know right away."

When Alex hurried off to seek out the Provost, Myles rushed to Alanna. "Just lie still. I'll get a healer... and some servants. We'll have to carry you out, I'm afraid."

"What brought you here?" Alanna ground out after the agony of lowering herself to the floor. "No one knew."

"Faithful brought me." Faithful, who was even now nudging Alanna and licking her face. "He was very forceful! I'm glad I listened. Alan, Alex was trying to kill you."

Alanna sucked in a breath that sounded dangerously like a sob. She shook her head. "He's been my friend for years."

He didn't look so friendly when we walked in, Faithful pointed out.

A grimace, a groan, and Alanna insisted "I don't want to hear any more about it" as she battled with another roiling wave of nausea; whether it was from the injury or the fact that Alex hadn't really been a close friend for years was hard to say.

Not since he'd agreed to become Duke Roger's squire.

What exactly had Jon's smiling uncle taught Sir Alex of Tirragen? What did he make him believe?

And if he had tried to kill Alanna, what did that mean for Jon?

It didn't matter at that moment, however. The pain was coloring her thoughts, burning like a bright light behind her eyelids, and even if it were true, her hands remained tied by a lack of proof. Only one thought stood out as she bit down on her lower lip and clung to consciousness:

She may not be the best, but Alex of Tirragen was not any better. Not in the ways that count.





[OOC: Dialogue/scene in second part taken from In the Hand of the Goddess, by Tamora Pierce.]