Written By Alleria
In Which This Fic Gets Off to a Promising Start
Is that a purple monkey I see trying to revive that dying giraffe? Hell, I want to wake up!
Oh. I have. That was a very strange dream I was just having. Hmm. It's dark. I need to go to the toilet. I don't want to get up. It's too cold. Will the need to go to the toilet go away? Hold on a sec... No. Damn.
I sit up and swing my legs out of bed. I grope for the light switch but, no, the power's cut. Okay. I can do this.
Carefully I stand up and put my hands out in front of me, shuffling forward. Wait, the door's to my left. Turn carefully around, shuffle forward. Bang. Ouch. What's that? Oh, it's my desk. But I shouldn't be by my desk, I should be at the door. How did I end up over here? Find the desk chair carefully. Sit down and think. Yes, it's just as I suspected. I have lost all sense of direction. Just my luck.
I really have to go badly now, so I stand and push the chair gently away from me. Crash. Whoops, I hope I didn't wake anyone.
I turn in a semicircle, and start forward. Where's the door? Where's the bed?
I feel like a real idiot. I'm lost in my own bedroom. I stand there, jiggling a bit because I need to go so badly.
Time to try again, Gem. Tee hee, that rhymes. Almost.
Just my luck there's a power cut in the middle of a dire situation. Where's the lamp? I want to be sure there's a power cut. I can't find it. Help! Where am I? My room? The hallway?
I need light badly. Don't get scared, it's okay. That scratching I can hear is just a branch outside. And that heavy breathing is just one of the dogs.
Hmm. I don't remember my room to be this spacious. Or this cold. It was chilly before, but now, I'm freezing! I don't care about the toilet anymore. That need has gone away. Now I need a light. And I need it now.
Shuffling forward again. Bang. Ow, my toe! Oh my God. That breathing is not one of my dogs! I'm nearly crying, I'm scared.
Now I know I'm not in my room. I push on the door that I have just bumped into and it swings open, creaking. My door never creaked. My family's house is brand new, none of the doors creak.
The doors hits something hard. Eek, it's not hard. It's soft. A groan, and a swear word. A male voice, it is, but not my brother's.
I stay very still, too scared to move. I'm so good in an emergency. I wish.
"What's that, Kel?"
"I don't know."
Someone yanks the door open, and a feeble light flickers on inside the room.
"Who is it?"
"It - it's me. Who are you?" Okay, so I don't sound too good. But don't blame me just because I can't think in a crisis.
The someone in the doorway grabs my arm and yanks me into the room, which, by now, is better lit, but the corners are shadowy.
Alright. So I'm standing here in my little pink satin nightie that doesn't even reach my knees, my hair is all messy and I probably look like a backpacker, with huge bags. Under my eyes, I mean. Okay. I'll shut up about me now.
The someone holding me by the arm is a girl about my age. I yank my arm away and give her a Look. I suddenly feel self-concious, there are people sitting up in hammocks all around me. All guys.
Hmm, love the outfit. The girl is wearing clothes that look like the stuff we studied in History. Medieaval, that's it. The clothes are all rumpled, like she's been sleeping in them. At least I can't look as bad as her. Here's hoping.
Chapter Two
A guy who looks a little older than I am rolls out of his hammock. He has long-ish blond hair and blue eyes. "Who are you and what do you want?" he growls at me, after gazing at my legs for quite some time.
"Me? I want my bed, my room, and I want the toilet. But not the latter any more. I think the need to go has been shocked out of me."
The guy doesn't know what to say to that. "You're strange," he finally manages.
"Go to sleep, Joren," says another guy, who is sitting up in his hammock. And fighting to stay balanced, sitting in a hammock is no easy task.
"I'm Neal of Queenscove. Joren's right, for once. You are strange. But enough nicities. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
I sigh.
"I'm Gemma, and my bedroom seems to have run away. If you don't mind, I'll just go and find it."
Another man sits up. They're popping up like flies. I've noticed they're all around my age. "Say something that makes sense, Gemma, or we'll have to asume you're mad," he says.
"Well, I've already made that asumption about you lot. Why don't you go and take a nice long walk off a short cliff?"
The man bows his head for a second, and I'm sure I can see a little smile there. That one over there, Neal, I think his name was, is laughing out loud.
"Excuse me," I say, "I'm not aware that I've said anything humourous. Will you please stop laughing? It's unnerving."
The girl who dragged me into this hell-hole in the first place comes over and drapes a dressing gown around my shoulders. A funny-looking one. "I'm Kel," she says with a smile. "Wear this to cover up. The males are getting distracted by your legs."
Yays. I think they're warming to me.
Chapter Three - In Which Gemma Discovers Boys Will Be Boys
Thump. Thump. Thump.
This horse is not creative. Definately. If it were, it would occasionly do a
little skip or hop to break the awful repetitive pattern of plodding along with
me on its back.
This is so strange. I still haven't gotten over my shock. Just a few days ago, I
woke up in the middle of the night and found myself in somewhere other than
where I should be.
You'll never guess where I am. Tortall. Yes, the Tortall. Tortall as in the
Lioness, as in the Gift and knights in shining armour. Although, the only armour
I've seen is far from shining - rusted, old and dirty.
I'm with a troop (I hope thats the right word to use) of squires and their lord,
and a female warrior old enough to be my grandmother.
Yes, the warrior is Eda Bell, the Shang warrior. And Lord Wyldon is riding just
in front of me, reminding me so very much of my Science teacher. Ugh - bad
thought. Go away, bad thought.
We're all heading for Corus. I have no idea why I'm coming, I mean, I'm nobody
here! I would've thought Lord Wyldon would just cast me out for the wolves to
feed on. But I'm so happy I'm going to Corus - Jon, here I come!
Kel's befriended me. I think she's really glad to have a friend who's not a guy,
and who's not a lady, all prissy and proper. I'm about as proper as a monkey
playing footsies.
Kel's cool. Neal's weird. Roald's boring. Cleon's loud. Faleron's sweet.
Merric's embarrased. And Joren is an Evil Kinevil.
**************************************************
I'm at the Royal Palace now - 'wow' sums it up nicely. It's so huge.
I'm visiting Kel in her room, poor soul. My room will apparently be ready in an
hour or so. She's rummaging around in a chest at the foot of her bed. I'm lying
on her bed.
Ooh, she's sitting up.
"Ah! Here it is!" she exclaims triumphantly, holding up a blue silk gown. "This
is for you," she's saying, and throws the gown at me.
"A dress?! Can't I just keep on wearing these tunicey breechery thingeries?"
"Well, you can't wear those 'tunicey breechery thigeries'. They're filthy. Wear
this gown for now, and we can get some more tunics and breeches made."
I'm grumbling under my breath, but I start to undress.
"Why can't you be more open-minded?" Kel asks.
"I used to have an open mind, but my brain kept falling out."
She collapses onto her bed and giggles into the pillow. Now she's sittting up
and watching me slowly suffocating and getting horribly lost in the gown. I tell
you now, those things are very confusing things to wear.
After a while, she sighs and reaches over, tugging on the hem of the gown. It
untangles itself and slips into place.
"Well, why didn't you do that in the first place?" I ask.
Someone's banging on the door.
"Who is it?" Kel calls.
"Us," comes a male voice.
"Come in."
The door opens, and in comes Us. Only it's not Us, it's Neal, Roald, Faleron,
Merric and Cleon.
"We study together in the evenings," Kel explains to me. "You look very nice in
that," she adds, obviously seeing how uncomfortable I am. The others seem to
agree.
Boy will be boys, I suppose, even in another world.
Chapter Four - In Which Gemma is Scowled Upon
Woe betide me. The gods are frowning on me, no, they're positively scowling on
me. What have I ever done to deserve this?
Joren is - he's - ugh - well, yes, he is ugh, but mostly he's chatting me up.
I'm not listening, maybe I will to see if its interesting.
"...And my father won her hand of course, as well as the battle of..."
Hmm. No. Ooh, it seems Joren's done with his life story, I better nod and smile.
Edge away...
Too late. He's off again.
"Of course, though Keladry of Mindelan recieved most of the credit, it was
really due to me that we even got past the waterfall and on to the battle
grounds..."
Smirk, smirk, flick back his hair. This guy is so vain and so very boring.
I'm through with politeness. I scowl at him, will he get the message? No, he's
gazing off into the distance, talking about... Umm...
"...It was truly a tremondous sight. A rare sight, in fact I'm possibly the
only..."
Here comes Cleon and Neal, praise Mithros! Quick, what to do?
"Squire Cleon! Squire Neal! Could you please show me to the practise courts?
I've been dying to see them ever since - um - ever since I first read about
them."
Joren's offering to take me, of course.
"No, thankyou, Joren, I believe you need extra study time than most of the other
squires."
"What are you implying?" he asks icily, all of his former so-called 'charm' gone
at the first mention of himself as something other than a brave warrior,
intellectual and all-round god-like person.
"Oh, I'm not implying anything, Squire Joren. Simply that while you were off
doing brave and heroic deeds, seeing incredible sights and stealing all of
Keladry of Mindelan's hard-earned glory, your studies must've been neglected.
After all, you're only human."
Grin at him, wink, walk away with a chuckling Cleon and Neal at my heels,
leaving a gaping Joren behind. Far, far behind.
Ha ha Joren. That was so good. He--
"Gemma?" Cleon's saying to me.
"Correct. What is it?"
"There are two things I want to know. Firstly, why didn't you just tell Joren to
shut up and walk away? Even you wouldn't put up with anything that bad."
"Ugh - that. If I'm awful to Joren, he'll take it out on Kel or Merric, and I
wouldn't want that, they're both my friends."
"Oh - how noble. Secondly, what do you mean when you say you've read about the
practise courts?"
Eek. Of course, I really read about them in Tamora Pierce's books, but I can't
tell Cleon that.
"Oh - just in a history book of my father's."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's not your fault."
I've told them my father is dead, which is true enough. He died in a car crash
before I was born. I also told them my mum is dead, but that's a lie. She's
alive and well. As well as can be expected, for a middle-aged woman with two
jobs, three teenagers (my brothers and I) and a huge mortgage.
I'm going to cry. Tortall is all well and good, but it's not home.
Neal looks uncomfortable. "Are you alright, Gem?"
"Yep. Fine."
Sniff loudly, wipe my eyes. Okay. I'm alright now.
"Thanks for rescuing me from Joren, back there."
Neal and Cleon burst out laughing, probably relieved my crying scene is over.
Chapter Five - In Which Gemma Falls In Love With a Married King
This is pointless. This is awful. This is verging on abuse.
I'm staggering down the endless corridoors of the Palace. My arms are full with,
well, junk, to be quite frank. But I'm not Frank. I'm Gemma. So I won't be quite
Frank, I'll be quite Gemma. Right-o. I can see the logic in that.
Anyways, apparantley Lindhall here and I are library-bound. I'll believe that
when I see it. Not that I can see much. I can see the hem of Lindhall's robe,
and the piles of stuff in my arms.
It's all cloth bags, dried herbs, rolls of parchment and hard, spikey (painful)
objects wrapped in cloth. You know, the usual.
Lindhall stops suddenly, me crashing into him from behind. Whoops, how
embarrasing. He looks down at me with a little smile. "We're here."
"I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."
"Well, you have."
"Most obviously."
He holds the door open for me and steps back to let me through first. He's such
a gentleman. No, I take that back. A gentleman wouldn't make me carry all this
stuff.
"Gemma, it's my honour to introduce you to Master Numair and Daine Sarrasri.
Numair, Daine, this is Gemma Seabourne."
Oh my God(s)! Agh! Hold on, Gem. Calm down. They're only humans. Well, close
enough, anyway.
"Hello, Master Numair, Daine Sarrasri," I say, curtseying politely. I have no
idea if it's the correct thing to do, or if I'm even doing it right. Oh well.
"Good morning, Gemma," Numair is saying.
He looks nothing like I thought he would - he even seems to have cut his hair.
He's rambling on - but, *gasp!* Who's this? Oh my God. Ohmigod. Oh Gods! I think
it's the King!!! THE King!!!! King Jonathan! Husband of... Oh. I forgot. He's
married. Damn it, even if he is too old for me.
Numair's finished, it seems. I should nod. Okay, I just did. That seemed to
work. Oh, gods, I hope I haven't just agreed to anything! He could have said,
"So, Gemma, you're willing to run through the Royal Forest barefoot, over mounds
of hedgehogs, echidnas and porcupines, staright into a herd of flying green
monkeys? Then, of course, you go into battle against two spidrens and Liam
Ironarm, raised from the dead?"
And I nodded.
Silly me.
Oh well, I have other things to think about. Namely the gorgegous (if a bit old)
king standing before me, grinning his head off?
I might curtsey again. This time I mean it. I wonder how you curtsey
meaningfully? Oh well.
"Good morning, Gemma. How are you today?"
"I'm on top of the world at the moment. And you?"
"Very well, thankyou."
"So I see." Whoops. That just slipped out.
Numair's talking again. Shut up, Numair, show some respect for your king! Let
him speak!
Gods, I almost said that out loud. I'm glad I didn't, I have no desire to change
into a tree.
Chapter Six
So I spent the rest of the day with my head in the clouds, dreaming about Jonathan. It’s a pity I didn’t turn up in Tortall when he was a squire – I might’ve been in with a chance. Oh well. A girl can dream – but what’s this?
A rock flying through my window. Lucky it’s open. The rock is quite large, but it doesn’t hit me. There’s a note tied to it. How very nice.
Ahem. Unfolding the note… It says…
“Gemma Seabourne (if that is your real name),
“We know who you really are. We know where you come from. If you don’t leave a hundred gold nobles in the stall of the horse called Thunderwith by noon tomorrow, we will spread the word as to who you really are. We don’t care if you beg, borrow or steal the money. Just get it to us. This is a bribe.”
Oh really. ‘This is a bribe?’ I would never have guessed.
So… Someone knows I’m not of this world. This Tortallan world, I mean. Mithros. This has potential to be confusing. Well, does it really matter if everyone knows? And where the hell do I get a hundred gold nobles? Help! What do I do?
It so obvious who this note is from. Joren didn’t even bother to disguise his handwriting. So it’s him and his cronies. What a pleasant bunch of lads.
Umm… No. It doesn’t matter if everyone finds out I’m from another world. It could be fun. Respect and all that. And the Tortallans will have a very good reason to keep me here… So it’s decided! Alrighty.
I’ll take it to… Um… Kel. She’ll know what to do. Folding the note, put it in my pocket. Now all I have to do is remember how to get to her room from here. Um… There were stairs, I know that much.
Oh, here I am. Knocking… And she’s here. Good.
“Hello, Kel. Hi Lalasa. Could I come in?”
They let me in, and I sit in a chair. How do I say this? Here goes nothing…
“I’m from another world, Kel. Strange, but true.”
She doesn’t look too shocked. Good.
“Someone – who shall remain nameless – let’s call him ‘Goren’, is bribing me a hundred gold nobles. If I don’t pay, they’ll everyone. But it’s no biggie. Everyone can know, I’ve decided. So do I just pretend I never got the note?”
“No – you should take it to Numair. I’ll come with you, if you want to go now.”
******************************************
Numair does not sound surprised that I have defied space, time and science to reach Tortall from my world. Hmm… Does that come from being Tortallan?
“Don’t worry, I’ll approach Joren about this –“
“Oh, no! Please don’t! I just want to pretend it never happened. Would you do that?”
After much cajoling, he agrees. Good. Now, to see Joren. I drop Kel off at her room, and promise to go straight to bed. Ha.
Where would the lovely Joren be?
I eventually find him. In his rooms. The last place I thought to look.
“How dare you?” I ask him. “Bribing me like that, you know I have no money! And how on earth did you find out that I’m from another world?”
“Another world? What are you talking about?” He looks genuinely confused – not that Joren can be genuine.
I say nothing – I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking. After a few moments of silence, he says, “Another world?”
“Yes, we’ve established that.”
“But I thought you were a prostitute from Sarain! That’s what I was going to tell everyone – you’re not a prostitute from Sarain?”
“Oh gods. You mean you didn’t know—“
I’m so stupid. Joren didn’t even know I was otherworldly! And I just told him!
Chapter Seven
But I'm overreacting, of course. What does it matter if Joren knows I'm from another world? Everyone's going to find out soon enough, anyway...
"Goodnight, Joren."
"Another world...?"
"Like I said, good night. I do hope the bed bugs bite."
And off I go to bed. Yawn. So tired...
Bang.
Ouch. "Sorry!" I say. And look at the person I've crashed into...
Oh. My. GODS!
This has to be love. Is this love? Is has to be... Yes, I'm pretty sure this is it. Love, I mean.
I have crashed into the most gorgeous guy you have ever seen. And you know me. I'm not one for exaggeration.
"Pardon me," says my love, bows and turns to go.
"Um..." I say, sounding as intelligent as I can.
"Yes?"
"Um, could you tell me your name? I - um - don't recognise you. Um," I say, stumbling over my words. My tongue seems to have ties itself up in knots.
"I," he says imperiously, "am Sir Pendilead of Tyra. I am pleased to meet you, my lady."
Peanut head? Did he say his name was Peanut head? Ah well, we all have our faults. "I'm Gemma. You look a little lost. Can I help you with anything?" (Finally found my tongue.)
"Yes, actually. I'm looking for the library. I wouldn't put you out of your way, my lady, but if you could just point me in the right direction...?"
"I was just heading there myself." (I am such a good liar.)
"Well, then," Peanut head says, and offers me his arm. Ooh, yay. Suddenly things are going my way. Things are definitely looking up.
But there is one slight problem.
I don't know where the library is!
