Alanna of Trebond (
the_lioness) wrote in
milliways_bar2012-11-18 10:25 am
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We ride at the hour past dawn tomorrow.
Duke Roger's closing words continue to echo through Alanna's mind long after she should have been asleep. Tossing and turning begins to lose any appeal around midnight, so she checks her binding, pulls on her clothes and scoops up a sleepy Faithful. After buckling Lightning to her hips, Alanna pads out of her room, past Jonathan's, and only lets herself breathe once she's alone in the hallway.
The decisions made in the meeting of Duke Roger's commanders are making her extremely uneasy and a little ill. She knows Jonathan is angry at his new command, far from Fort Drell, but Alanna is upset for other reasons that have everything to do with a deep suspicion of the man who decided to place him there.
"Maybe a few hours at Milliways will allow me to rest," she murmurs to the heavy cat wrapped around her neck. "I doubt we'll be able to go there again for a long while, after all."
Faithful fails to respond.
She moves quietly through the halls and is careful to look around before slipping through the door to the bar. It's loud and bright after the quiet corridors of the sleeping palace, but she's glad of the noise, the life. If she can't get to the Dove, this is the next best thing.
Rubbing one of her eyes, Alanna settles into a chair by the fire and hopes a wait rat will happen by soon. She's awake, yet curiously far too tired and preoccupied to see about getting some tea herself.
[OOC: I wanted to go ahead and get this up. I will be around for a bit, but I'll need to beg slowtimes almost immediately this AM. It is open forever, however, and I will be around to tag as much as my super annoying body lets me! :) ]
Duke Roger's closing words continue to echo through Alanna's mind long after she should have been asleep. Tossing and turning begins to lose any appeal around midnight, so she checks her binding, pulls on her clothes and scoops up a sleepy Faithful. After buckling Lightning to her hips, Alanna pads out of her room, past Jonathan's, and only lets herself breathe once she's alone in the hallway.
The decisions made in the meeting of Duke Roger's commanders are making her extremely uneasy and a little ill. She knows Jonathan is angry at his new command, far from Fort Drell, but Alanna is upset for other reasons that have everything to do with a deep suspicion of the man who decided to place him there.
"Maybe a few hours at Milliways will allow me to rest," she murmurs to the heavy cat wrapped around her neck. "I doubt we'll be able to go there again for a long while, after all."
Faithful fails to respond.
She moves quietly through the halls and is careful to look around before slipping through the door to the bar. It's loud and bright after the quiet corridors of the sleeping palace, but she's glad of the noise, the life. If she can't get to the Dove, this is the next best thing.
Rubbing one of her eyes, Alanna settles into a chair by the fire and hopes a wait rat will happen by soon. She's awake, yet curiously far too tired and preoccupied to see about getting some tea herself.
[OOC: I wanted to go ahead and get this up. I will be around for a bit, but I'll need to beg slowtimes almost immediately this AM. It is open forever, however, and I will be around to tag as much as my super annoying body lets me! :) ]
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"I have a... friend. He was wondering why he wasn't getting much news from the Tusaine Rogue. What he discovered was that the King's brother has designs on the Drell River Valley. Our Drell River Valley." She pauses for a moment. "Here."
Biting her lip, she lets him back in and remembers the map George had given her to pass on to Myles, complete with its red marks indicating Tusaine troops amassed around the valley.
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"That was in Tusaine. They were all circling around the valley and right river bank."
She blinks and looks away.
"In any case, it was enough for the King to send out the call to muster." Another frown. "Then Duke Gareth's horse bucked him off and broke his leg in three places. His mild-mannered, well-trained war horse."
Again Alanna allows him in, showing him the burr Stefan had found under Duke Gareth's saddle blanket. Even here, she doesn't want to voice it aloud.
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\
"What will Duke Roger gain from leading?"
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It's easy now to forget that's what she claims to want once she wins her shield. It grows less and less attractive.
"The opportunity to move the prince around on his living chessboard," she sneers, "and put him in jeopardy as part of his end game."
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Charles is ambitious in his own way but he wants safety for all mutants.
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It's very frustrating.
"Now that he is in command, he has decided that Jon will be in charge of the river camp. It looks as if he intends to keep Jon far from the fighting at the fort, but I can't help but wonder..."
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He's not certain how out of the ordinary this is.
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"I think he's isolating him. Sir Myles is to be his adviser, but he admits himself he has no battle experience. And I wouldn't think so ill of Roger, perhaps, if he hadn't tried to kill Jon twice before!"
And me.
And ME.
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He believes her in terms of them trying to be killed but he knows that they are difficult to pin down if done craftily.
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"I don't have proof."
Frustrated, she runs fingers through her hair and blinks at Charles.
"I'm sure I sound mad."
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I'm sure that will be a hardship notes Faithful.
"Shut up!" she snaps back.
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"It's what happens to me if I don't have proper control. Good, I'm certain he'll be glad to have you by his side."
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Alanna finds she's worried about him.
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Sleep helps but that knowledge of how close he is to falling apart and the horrible feeling when he does scared him.
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Alanna fixes him with a wide, unblinking stare.
"A slender man was attacking people?"
Then, absently, "You have enough control, you know. That won't happen to you. I hope some day I can be as sure of my own control as I am of yours."
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He smiles at her compliment, its nice to know that he's seen that way.
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"Was he punished?"
Because that is NOT ON.
"I understand. It worried me when I found out about you. I'm just lucky you meant no harm."
She completely ignores the rest of his comment.
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"What is the Wild Hunt?"
There's a tale in Tortall; she wonders if it's the same.
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Its only a story to Charles as well and he would have enjoyed seeing the defeat.
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"What injuries?" she asks sharply.
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He unbuttons his cuff to show her where the skin is still tender and looks newly healed. His worst injuries were inside his head and the loss of control and confidence.
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It flows around Charles, leaving warmth in its wake.
"Hmph," is all she says.
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