Glittering
By Lady Star
AN: Royalty, and the reasons people want it. It is a pointless, plot less fic that I enjoy just because I am savoring the intricate beading of the dresses and the gaudy, powerful stones on each finger. This might end up having a point, but I dunno it.
Chapter 1 looking back through the mirror and time
Queen Alanna stares at the reflection in the bronze mirror. How many forms of herself has she seen in the smooth glass? How many times has she stood here wondering what could have happened? If she did not flee from the life of a page to become a fiery tempered lady. Would it have been any worse? The mistresses were politely kind but strict. They never turned out a flawless lady. Or so it seemed. All the lady's are the same, she tells herself. That is why Jon married me. I am different, not another brainless giggling rag. Not because I was willing, before he made a commitment. She turns away from the mirror. No matter what title she held she could never free herself from this riddle of questions.
I am happy.
I am queen.
I am young and healthy.
Unscarred and beautiful.
Then why do I need to tell myself these words? Is the Goddess so cruel to be tormenting me with these questions every time I see my self? No. It's another monthly phase. Unsteady as the moon.
She lifts her chin proudly and looks again. Staring into the cold lifeless gaze of another proud woman. They would not know the difference between the image of the queen, and a real person.
"Lifeless doll" she spits at the mirror, shaking a copper curl from her pinned hair. Gliding across the room, she sits on the vanity stool, taking care not to crease her elaborate evening gown. The muslin and silk sighs as she moves. A constant reminder of the advantages of a queen. Brushing the curl back in place and sticking yet another pin in her hair. She places her left hand over her stomach, feeling her second child. Child of a king. Child of a queen. A girl or a boy? Only the Goddess knows. And only she cares. Another lifeless doll. A tear carelessly drops onto her lap. Staining the rich navy muslin. Slipping down the velvet bodice, flowing in between her thighs, then finally plummeting between her knees, past her jeweled dancing slippers leaving a trail of damp. Her amethyst eyes shine wetly and play with the light like the pink pearls around her neck. A heavy golden chain holds a pearl pendent, masterfully sculpted into rose growing from her chest. Leaves of green jade burst from underneath the rose. A navy and pink collar sits high on her slender neck, dripping jade leaves around her neck. She stands before the mirror again taking care not to look into her face. A queen must not have tear stains on her dress. The velvet bodice allows for her pregnant belly. It ends in the traditional V shape. Folds of navy muslin drape from the slanted waist trailing behind her. The sleeves end with a flourish of silk at the elbow revealing her slender delicate hands. Silk roses line her bodices, adorn her hair, and pucker the ends of her sleeves. A fine black material drapes from her back, attaching at her shoulders and wrists, bound with more navy and pink collars. How traditional she must look. A young girl in old beauty.
A knock on the door sounds.
"My queen, are you ready?"
"I am always at your bidding, my lord and king." Only the slightest trace of the crying girl remains as Alanna the queen composes herself. Before the presence of the king, she is a stately, modest queen.
"Alanna dearest, you look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you, my king, for compliments of which I am not worthy."
"But you are! The navy gown offsets your magnificent hair. The jewels complement in a way that they would to no other. But the most precious and beautiful of the gems are the two jewels in your eyes. Amethyst perhaps, or some undiscovered substance that puts natures work to shame." After a moment of hesitation, out of eagerness, "My queen, will you still not open your soul to me?"
Alanna knowing very well that his heart rousing speech was a simple teenage flattery with some elaboration served on a silver platter, innocently said, "I have nothing more to offer, my king. I have already born an heir to the throne, with another child in sending. I have posed not a threat to you, nor did distasteful acts of disgrace. I have rightly served you and the land as a queen is bound to. Might my king be more specific of his needs?"
He heavily sighs. "Alanna, your fire can never be captured. Who am I to think that after two years of marriage, I, yet a mortal, could capture that essence." He murmurs a small laugh and offers his arm. Alanna politely takes it and together they walk down the hall. After a moment of thought, she whispers.
"You must not be so critical of your self. You are The King of Tortall."
"And only a mortal."
"Than I am no better. A queen, but only a mortal. I asure you, there is nothing I have that you wish to find."