Alanna walked just behind George into the Dove. Then promptly crashed into him. Two voices swore, hers and someone else's. Not George. He had frozen.

A female's voice said, 'Now look here, you looby. This is a right mess you've put us in this time.'

Alanna edged around George; he was taking up the entire doorframe. Faithful, on her shoulder, jumped off and walked over to the young woman who had spoken. She was taller than Alanna, with dark blonde hair in a neat braid. She was in a black tunic and breeches, a large stick rather like the Lord Provost guards' baton stuck through her belt. There was also a dagger in her belt, along with several others on her person. Her eyes were a queer icy blue. Alanna grinned. She liked the look of this woman. And Faithful liked her. There was a flicker of movement just behind the woman. Alanna frowned and peered closer. It was a young man, grinning sheepishly. He was about George's height, with white-blonde hair and a scar on his cheek and through his left eyebrow. He was handsome, in an odd way. He was also looking very guilty. The woman glared at him. Then she looked at George, worried.

Alanna asked, 'I don't mean to be rude, but who are you? I've never seen George look like this with anyone.'

'Lass …' George murmured.

'I'm really very sorry about this,' the woman hastily interrupted, 'but this here is Rosto and I'm Beka. Beka Cooper.'

Alanna took a seat. 'How are you related to George?'

'This is your mess and I'm doing naught to fix it,' Beka informed Rosto, arms firmly crossed. Faithful laughed.

Rosto bowed to the two women. 'Might I know your name?' he asked Alanna.

Alanna grinned again. 'Alanna.'

Faithful looked at her. Your full title.

Alanna glared at the cat. 'You come back after dying to tell us to come to the Dove; then tell me I have to announce my titles? I've had enough of people staring!' Faithful gave no inch. Alanna groaned.

Beka grinned, 'There's no arguing with a cat.'

'Goddess,' Alanna rubbed her head, pausing to glare at Beka and Rosto. George still hadn't moved. 'I'm Alanna of Trebond and Olau, Lady Knight and King's Champion.'

The Lioness, Goddess' chosen and the first Lady Knight in one hundred years, Faithful added smugly. Alanna transferred her glare over to Faithful.

Be thankful Jon, Thayet and the rest aren't here.

Beka exchanged a look with Rosto. 'Why are you the first in a hundred years?'

'They was banned,' George told the two. Alanna looked confused. 'Please tell me ye aren't who I think ye are,' he begged. Alanna looked at them curiously.

'Who's the king?' Rosto asked.

'Jonathon IV.'

'The other king.'

'The Rogue's Marek Swiftknife.'

'Not you?'

'I've turned honest.'

'Too much of your grandmother in you.'

'No, it was too hard trying to have a relationship between a knight and a Rogue.'

'Harder than a Dog and a Rogue?'

'Definitely when there's a Conte involved.'


Alanna sighed. 'What are the two of you talking about?'

George avoided Alanna's eyes as he answered. 'My six-times great grandparents.'

Before Rosto could say anything, Beka glared at him, 'Don't ye go bemoaning yer age. Yer dead, ye cracknob!'

AN: A quick what-if scenario. Thanks if you read this, thanks even more if you review.