Perfect Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, Tamora Pierce's book series or any of the characters mentioned in them.
A Trickster's Queen One-Shot
She didn't even wince when she felt her fingernails slice through her delicate skin. The cloth of her gown billowed around her as she paced back and forth in her perfect room.
Queen.
Queen Imajane. Yes...
Everything had been so perfect.
She was crowned queen of the miserable Isles. She would bring the country to a true order.
Her order.
Everything had been perfectly planned. It was meant to be. The great sun god, Mithros himself, had been hinting for weeks that she was destined to rule.
So she had killed the brat king, Dunevon. It had been so perfectly planned, and no one could have possibly traced that she killed her own nephew...
Why had everything gone so wrong?
Imajane stared out the window, first looking at the sky. It was brilliant with color. The gods were at war. The sun glared over the Isles, intensified by the Goddess. She didn't know why the Great Gods were fighting with the minor raka Trickster. Kyprioth showed sparkles of color - and the colors had gotten brighter.
Her ice-cold eyes caught the vision of a flying creature. A large kudarung, perhaps. She was never fluent in the names of the immortals... She was, however, fluent in the names of those close to the throne. "No..." she hissed, her mind racing.
Upon the kudarung sat a beautiful mistress, her golden skin reflecting the sunlight. Dark hair in a large braid whipped the air, and caused Imajane to let out a piercing scream. She picked up a glass vase of some sort, smashing it into the wall, thinking it would make her feel better.
It didn't.
Upon the kundrung sat a beautiful mistress indeed. The Lady Dovasary Balitang.
The only one left to steal the throne from her.
The only mistake in her plan.
Those damned raka just didn't know their place...
She tugged on her hair, collapsing on her bed. Imajane had been so sure that when her wench sister, Saraiyu, had eloped with that Carthaki that there was no one left.
After all, Dovasary was only thirteen. She hardly posed a threat.
But she was raka. The raka had probably caused her to believe the throne needed to be overruled, since they knew she was their last hope.
She heard a weak knock on her door, and sighed loudly. "What do you want?" she snapped.
"Y-your Majesty...?" a frightened voice called through the door.
"What?" Imajane groaned.
"I have s-some bad n-news," the servant whimpered. Her stutters sounded tearful - not fearful.
Imajane remained silent, waiting.
"T-they found.." she sniffled, "...They found His Majesty's body in another district..."
The Queen froze. "Rubinyan...?" she whispered, fear apparent in her voice.
"He... He's dead, my lady..."
Imajane groped the blankets under her, and closed her eyes. Tears flooded in them, and she opened her mouth. And screamed.
Those damned raka...
Everything had been so perfect.
The wretch was serious about becoming the first raka queen in ages, and Imajane knew solemnly inside, Dovasary would win.
When her voice died, she rolled on her stomach, and cried. It was not a gentle ladylike cry either, but full sobs. Her entire life had just been destroyed.
It made sense now, why the Great Gods battled Kyprioth. The damned trickster had led the attacks - that was for sure.
There was another knock on her door, this time much rougher. The knocker did not wait for a reply, but kicked the door open. It was a raka woman, who looked strong enough to take out half of the army (well, when they had an army). "Get up," she snarled.
"Get away from me," Imajane hissed, standing up anyway. She backed against the wall, grabbing a dagger from a shelf. Her hair fell in her eyes, but she wouldn't chance moving with the armed raka near.
"Come with me, your Majesty." The raka held a tone of amusement in her voice. "Looks like you've heard about our king, huh?" The raka inched near.
"Shut up," Imajane growled.
The raka smirked, "You seem distressed. Why bother? You were able to kill your little nephew king, weren't you? You hardly seemed hurt."
Imajane clenched her teeth together, ready to rip the damned raka to pieces.
"Don't worry, we'll give you a fair trial," she snickered.
The Queen let out a cry, leaping at the raka who easily dodged her. "Leave me alone!" she screamed.
The raka shook her head, glancing out the window as if Imajane wasn't even there. She didn't seem to think Imajane was a threat.
Letting out a snarl, Imajane proved her wrong by grabbed the raka by the legs, dragging the dagger through the skin on the back of the woman's legs.
The raka immediately collapsed, letting out a cry of pain as vermillion blood spilled on Imajane's perfect floor.
"Junai!" a voice cried from outside the room.
Imajane got up, blood staining her perfect clothiing. She ran out onto the balcony, knowing what she'd do. Feeling her life was no longer as perfect as it once was, she bent backwards over the edge of the balcony, and closed her eyes. She heard the raka woman yell something at the other person who had entered her room, but didn't open her eyes. Swiftly, she brought the dagger with raka blood to her chest, and pushed through her skin. Letting out a whimper of pain, she felt her body fall backwards from the balcony, and waited for impact.
The perfect death for the perfect queen.
A/N: Argh, my first Tammy Pierce fic. Guess it's not the best. I wanted to reflect on Imajane's feelings as she took that last dive. It took me a while to think of what Imajane would reflect on... And I thought of the word: perfect. It seemed to fit because Imajane was a "perfect" beauty to the loyal luarin and it's also an oxy moron of some sort because Imajane was far from perfect, and her life was hell in Trickster's Queen. Well thanks for reading and review on your way out! - Letselina