*Hope*
A Tamora Pierce fanfic for my dear friend Huntress... *huggles*
Hope
by S_Star
Disclaimer: The lovely Tamora Pierce owns all, and since there isn’t much of a plot here, I can’t even claim that much.
Pairings: At first glance it’s actually kinda A/J. *grimaces*
Rating: G
Summary: In which Jon breathes in the chill night air and realises everything’s all right. One-shot.
AN: I ship A/G, but this is a special ficlet in honour of HuntressDiana. I love you really, sugar, whatever I may say! ^_^
Special thanks to the lovely Daphne Apollo for beta-ing.
Hope
I dream of her sometimes.
When the nights are still and peaceful and noise from the courtyard below magically seems to disappear; my thoughts are free to wander wherever they wish, and I lie awake and dream of her.
I see an array of images spread before my eyes; images from what feels like so many lifetimes ago when she was young and I was young and we envisioned our life together as we gazed out to the stars.
Alanna of Trebond.
“Alanna,” I repeat out loud, a whisper lost in Thayet’s soft breathing and the stillness of the room, and a heartbeat later that same thick air seems to rush into my lungs to stifle me, too.
I stand and cover my thin nightshirt with an embroidered robe of surprisingly simple design, which I recognise as being the one Alanna commissioned young Keladry of Mindelan’s old maid to make for me after many half-hearted complaints about the court tailors’ extravagant taste. I open the window in front of me and shiver slightly as the chilly air rushes over my body, releasing me for a second.
I can see Bazhir camps and firelight, and golden patterns dancing through her shining violet eyes, and life is somehow simpler for a moment.
I am by no means in love with her still; my lady Thayet holds my heart and will forever, but seeing Alanna makes me nostalgic, and although the night is peaceful, a distant part of me insists that I’d rather be still in the past, before I became king, before any of my - or even her - adventures began.
So many things have happened since those days; wars and tragedies and hundreds of funeral pyres burning throughout Tortall, and it is therefore only to be expected that I long for simpler times.
I know that we are not at war now, and that even back then Roger of Conté’s somewhat silent threat loomed over our heads, but for a time I was blind to that. For a time I felt safe, and that’s why I dream of Alanna.
She is my Champion, my Lioness, with her head held high, her eyes and hair blazing, her willingness to throw herself headfirst into anything if she thinks for a moment it will help our country...she embodies hope.
I knew her back then, when the world was content, and I am blessed to have been by her side as she’s grown, but the fire inside her has never stopped burning, however bad things may have seemed, and it always strikes something deep inside me to see her riding proudly into Corus, another victory, however minor, under her belt.
When I dream of Alanna, I dream of happiness, and the peaceful time that was always meant to be. I can close the window and return to bed content in the knowledge that the light in my heart and in the hearts of all Tortall will always burn strong, just as long as hope survives.
~fin~
We return to our regularly scheduled Potter-fest next post. ^_~
*SS*
Hope
by S_Star
Disclaimer: The lovely Tamora Pierce owns all, and since there isn’t much of a plot here, I can’t even claim that much.
Pairings: At first glance it’s actually kinda A/J. *grimaces*
Rating: G
Summary: In which Jon breathes in the chill night air and realises everything’s all right. One-shot.
AN: I ship A/G, but this is a special ficlet in honour of HuntressDiana. I love you really, sugar, whatever I may say! ^_^
Special thanks to the lovely Daphne Apollo for beta-ing.
Hope
I dream of her sometimes.
When the nights are still and peaceful and noise from the courtyard below magically seems to disappear; my thoughts are free to wander wherever they wish, and I lie awake and dream of her.
I see an array of images spread before my eyes; images from what feels like so many lifetimes ago when she was young and I was young and we envisioned our life together as we gazed out to the stars.
Alanna of Trebond.
“Alanna,” I repeat out loud, a whisper lost in Thayet’s soft breathing and the stillness of the room, and a heartbeat later that same thick air seems to rush into my lungs to stifle me, too.
I stand and cover my thin nightshirt with an embroidered robe of surprisingly simple design, which I recognise as being the one Alanna commissioned young Keladry of Mindelan’s old maid to make for me after many half-hearted complaints about the court tailors’ extravagant taste. I open the window in front of me and shiver slightly as the chilly air rushes over my body, releasing me for a second.
I can see Bazhir camps and firelight, and golden patterns dancing through her shining violet eyes, and life is somehow simpler for a moment.
I am by no means in love with her still; my lady Thayet holds my heart and will forever, but seeing Alanna makes me nostalgic, and although the night is peaceful, a distant part of me insists that I’d rather be still in the past, before I became king, before any of my - or even her - adventures began.
So many things have happened since those days; wars and tragedies and hundreds of funeral pyres burning throughout Tortall, and it is therefore only to be expected that I long for simpler times.
I know that we are not at war now, and that even back then Roger of Conté’s somewhat silent threat loomed over our heads, but for a time I was blind to that. For a time I felt safe, and that’s why I dream of Alanna.
She is my Champion, my Lioness, with her head held high, her eyes and hair blazing, her willingness to throw herself headfirst into anything if she thinks for a moment it will help our country...she embodies hope.
I knew her back then, when the world was content, and I am blessed to have been by her side as she’s grown, but the fire inside her has never stopped burning, however bad things may have seemed, and it always strikes something deep inside me to see her riding proudly into Corus, another victory, however minor, under her belt.
When I dream of Alanna, I dream of happiness, and the peaceful time that was always meant to be. I can close the window and return to bed content in the knowledge that the light in my heart and in the hearts of all Tortall will always burn strong, just as long as hope survives.
~fin~
We return to our regularly scheduled Potter-fest next post. ^_~
*SS*