Alanna of Trebond (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_lioness) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
milliways_bar2012-11-18 10:25 am
the_lioness) wrote in milliways_bar2012-11-18 10:25 am
(no subject)
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! :) ]
no subject
Alanna isn't sure she agrees entirely, but in this case...
"It is stupid to think that because a king desires peace he is weak and won't fight for what's his."
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She wrinkles her nose again, reaching out to tug at a lock of Alanna's hair.
Speaking of irritating . . .
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(He fails to come to Alanna's rescue. Let the bird pick at her hair. She could use s a trim, anyway.)
"Not all humans," she mutters, frowning. She tries once to bat Raven away and then seems to surrender to the inevitably of it. Or perhaps she is distracted by the mental image of Lady Delia's reaction to similar treatment. It is amusing to contemplate.
"I'm worried."
Not scared.
Never that.
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She makes a face anyway, though.
And continues to tug, very lightly, at Alanna's hair.
"And you, I am thinking, are not so much the kind to be made still by it, yes?"
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A hint of a smile crosses her face. Her eyes go unfocused, her expression distant.
"No. I've a duty to uphold. I'll protect Jonathan, no matter what."
Somehow.
The light tug is almost starting to feel good. Reassuring. Alanna has no idea what to do with that fact.
"Even if I'm the only one who thinks he needs it."
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"That, I am thinking, is because you are for seeing what is there, yes? And not so much only that which is easy. Or expected."
The tugging is not going to stop any time soon, really.
"Habits are for being tricky things. Like ruts."
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Alanna leans toward Raven ever so slightly, rounding her shoulders.
"And ruts can be deadly."
A nod. It would be more decisive if she wasn't so tired.
"I hope I can get back," pops out next.
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Tug.
"Yes. And yes."
Raven's grin is bright.
"You are for fearing being trapped here? Or elsewhere, perhaps."
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"Yes."
To both.
"I heard once that dead people come here," she blurts out. "Are they stuck?"
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Again Raven ruffles Alanna's hair, just to give a break from the tugging.
But it will return in a moment.
"But death is often for meaning never returning home. There are other worlds, though, yes? So."
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It doesn't make her resemble a petulant child.
Really.
"Many more than I dreamed of," Alanna admits. "But I'm concerned with mine, for the moment."
A wistful look at the door.
"Have you been to lots?"
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Raven's smile is bright, and the laugh that follows it is even moreso.
"Traveling, yes? Wings are a fine thing for such as that."
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"Though I'll have to go by horseback."