noteful | Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

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Birthday Party for Laura/X-23

It's a pretty low-key party, all things considered, and not significantly different than the one Parker or Meg would have thrown in a dorm room for a friend at home, not-exactly-traditional menu not withstanding.

There's music, low enough to talk over (and maybe with a little more folk in the mix than one expects to find a party). Balloons and streamers in purple and blue and red. A place to leave presents. People to meet or catch up with.

And, most importantly, a chance to wish X-23 (or Laura) a very happy birthday.

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"I hope so."

She had seemed very surprised by the idea.

"I don't know Lilly, I'm afraid. And I'm not always good at them, either."

She better, actually, when she's hosting, because then there's a prescibed set of things to be doing.

"Overwhelming how?"

"Lilly is..."

Smirking, Alanna sucks in air through her teeth. Where to begin? There was the hot tub, the groping, the drinks that made her say and do things she never would otherwise (that's her defense and she's sticking to it) -- Lilly is Lilly.

"Well, she's from California. I'm a knight from Tortall. It was unlike anything we'd ever seen." She smiles at Meg. "Before Milliways, I spent most social gatherings at court hiding behind a curtain." Often with her friend Raoul and a bottle of wine. "Manners dictated I dance with eligible ladies, or anyone my knight master felt appropriate. It was awful."

Meg grins. "Parker's from California, too. And she's fond of throwing me for loops, I think."

And a very good friend.

"It sounds it.

"I've never gone as far as hiding behind curtains, but I tend to spend a lot of time in kitchens, helping with the food," she confesses.

Meg pauses, because there's a somewhat important detail missing, and while she's trying not to make assumptions about other worlds . . .

"Eligible ladies?"

"Helping with food in the ktchens is an excellent way to spend a party, I feel."

That might have been the best part of being a page. Well, after the swords and the horses and all the rest of the fighting.

At Meg's question, her eyes dart sideways.

"Yes." An awkward silence. "I had to pretend to be a boy for eight years."

"Oh," says Meg.

She thinks back, piecing the parts of the conversation together.

"To become a knight?

"That sounds . . . uncomfortable, I think, is the word I want. To have to pretend something like that for so long."

She nods.

"Girls weren't allowed to try for their shields. There were parts of it that were very uncomfortable indeed," Alanna notes, lips twitching into a mischievous smile. "Otherwise it wasn't horrible. A few very good friends were in on my secret and made sure I remembered who I was and what I wanted."

"Good things to remember.

"And I'm glad you had friends to help. Seems like it would be a pretty hard thing to pull off alone."

Not just because it would seem to beg the question of just how non-observant the other knights in Tortall are.

"Has the rule changed? I noticed you said weren't allowed, rather than aren't allowed."

"It has."

Rocking back on her heels, Alanna allows herself a smug smile.

"One of the friends I mentioned, Jonathan, is now king. He and his queen have ushered in several reforms, including a proclamation that noble daughters can train for knighthood alongside noble sons. The conservatives had fits."

Her smile fades.

"None have attempted it yet."

"Friends in high places are good things to have," Meg says.

She notices the fading smile.

"It . . . sometimes people just need time to get used to new ideas. And that sounds like a pretty big one to get used to.

"So . . . maybe some will soon?"

"Maybe," Alanna agrees quietly. "I'd hoped it would be my daughter."

Her expression turns fond, if mildly exasperated.

"She has other ideas."

"Daughters have a way of doing that."

Sisters, too.

"How old is she?" Meg asks.

"Seven," Alanna answers, "though she acts at least ten. I think it comes of having so many adults around. And being the boss of my other two."

She rolls her eyes. Secretly, of course, she finds it hilarious.

"Do you...?" Meg looks young, but it's Milliways. You never know.

"So she might change her mind," Meg says.

And then looks faintly (and possibly amusingly) horrified.

"Oh, no. No, I'm . . . maybe someday, but . . . I'm not ready to even think about . . .

"I'm in university right now. It keeps me busy enough."

She's never met anyone she wanted to have children with, either.

Biting back a smile, Alanna nods.

"Oh, I imagine. What are you studying?"

"My long term goal is to be a doctor," Meg says. "But I just started in the fall, so I haven't really specialized that much yet."

"That's a good goal to have," Alanna replies. "I saw a doctor in London."

She says this like it's a novelty.

"The machines and medicines and huge hospitals -- it's all very different to the healing I do."

But not in a bad way. That's clear in her voice.

"I think it's one of those things that changes a lot, from time to time and world to world."

A slight tilt of her head.

"What sort of healing do you do?"

"I could have done without the needles," she confesses.

A flicker of something like embarrassment crosses her face; for a knight, she's awfully squeamish about them.

"It's called the Gift in my world. Magic."

Needles don't bother Meg, but her mun is in utter agreement with Alanna.

"A lot of people feel that way," Meg says.

"And oh.

"Being able to heal people is certainly a gift."

A pause, because as the daughter of a doctor and a person who plans to be one herself, Meg finds this sort of thing interesting.

"Is it . . . did you have to learn or is it just . . . something you can do?"

Alanna bites her lip, trying to decide how best to explain it.

"Both, to be honest. The Gifted are born that way, but we require training to focus and hone our abilities. I tried to ignore mine for years. I didn't want it."

Having that much power scared her.

"Then a friend died when I was a page, and I realized I might have been able to save him if I hadn't been so selfish."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Meg says. "And I'm sorry I . . ."

A pause.

"I'm not in any way gifted, but it kind of runs in the family. Not, I don't think, a gift quite like what you're describing, but . . . the family stories talk about the second sight. I didn't want it, either."

It's offered as an explantion, or an apology, or . . . Meg's not sure.

Eyes softening, Alanna shakes her head and looks almost apologetic herself. It's a rare expression, usually reserved for her family.

"Goddess, there's no need for an apology. It was a long time ago." She purses her lips and thinks hard on what Meg's just said. "It can be scary, sometimes. But natural talent can only get you so far without cleverness and caring. I think you'll be a very good doctor, Meg." It's meant. "My friend George has the Sight. It helps him pick up on things the rest of us might miss. Is it like that?"

"Thank you."

For . . . well, for all of that.

Meg nods. "Yes, basically. Seeing things that are beyond what can be seen with the eye, or seeing things that haven't happened yet."

A quick smile says You're welcome.

"George can't see the future, but the Doi can," Alanna comments, mostly to herself. "I imagine that can be hard to bear. Have you always had it?"

"Oh, I don't have it at all," Meg says quickly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I explained that well.

"I . . . It crops up, from time to time, in my mother's family. But I wasn't one of the times. I just grew up with the stories."

And Meg is so okay with that. She never wanted it.

"My sister has it.

"I think it's been very hard for her, at times."

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Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

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Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

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Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests

Re: Mingle with the other guests