I am the Queen
Summary: Good sides with innocence; Evil sides with corruption. This is how innocence dies. This is how corruption takes hold of the Queen of Albion. This is how tyranny begins.
Author's Note: This is my first Video Game fan fiction. I have just finished playing Fable 3 for the second time, which lead me to skim through the Fable fan fiction. I liked what I saw and it inspired to write some of my own. It's a nice change from Anime fan fiction too. So, hopefully, you lot enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Enjoy! Reviews are loved and appreciated~!
November 25th, 2010 EDIT: I decided to make this a one-shot. Mostly because I'm not too sure how to have the story progress. Also because I have a different story in mind which will DEFINETLY have more than 1 chapter :3
She sat upon his throne, glaring down upon his cold, calculated face. The angered boo's and hisses made by the crowd went unheard in her ears. Her first decision as Albion's queen mirrored the decision her brother had forced upon her many nights ago; the decision that had inadvertently sparked the start of the rebellion. The decision that had given birth to the hateful revenge that had slowly chipped away her innocence and sense of good.
Back then she had been forced to decide who would die:
Her childhood sweetheart, Elliot. Or three strangers, who had been foolish enough to speak out against their king.
The three strangers had pleaded for their lives selfishly, while Elliot had begged for his life to be taken in place of theirs. Love wanted the young woman to save her beloved, yet she knew he would not forgive her if she had allowed three innocent lives to be destroyed; and all because of her brother's foul mood. When Elliot had caressed her cheek so softly, so lovingly, she had wanted to cry, but her brother's presence had forced her to keep her composure.
"Choose me."
And she did. The moment his hand had been forced from hers, she wanted to take the command back; she wanted the strangers to die instead of her sweet, kind, noble Elliot. But it had been too late. The guards had dragged him swiftly out of the throne room for the punishment her brother had ordered for. The three strangers had voiced their thanks to deaf ears.
That night, the young woman had not dared to be anywhere close to a window for fear that she may glimpse her lover's execution; but not even the hard stone walls of Bowerstone Castle had been able to muffle out the sounds of gunshots.
Logan had become a tyrant because of Theresa's warning, but not even that was an excuse for forcing his sister to condemn her precious Elliot.
The whispers of the Queen's generals were the only voices that reached her ears, each one hoping to have their opinion voiced by the ruler of Albion. If they were able to sway the Queen, to have their ideals become reality, it would give them a sense of power and control over the most powerful woman in Albion. Their unconscious greed made the woman clench her gloved hands into fists, causing the fire and ice magic in her gauntlets to flare enough to ruin her royal gloves. How she wanted to scream at them, to order the guards to escort all of her generals out of the throne room, or to at least tell them to shut their traps! She did not want to second-guess herself because she took their advice!
"You have the power over life and death sister," Logan's calm voice broke through the cloud of angry voices, "Now choose." His face appeared to have no emotion, yet the Queen could see in his eyes that he was just as terrified as she had been when Elliot's fate had been sealed. The power was given to her once again.
Of course, there was a small part of her who wanted her dear brother to live; after all, he was her last remaining blood relative, yet that part was not strong enough to overcome her thirst for revenge.
"I will never forgive you for this!"
"Good. That means you won't forget it."
Instead of keeping her back straight and head held high like a proper lady, she slumped casually in the throne, doing her best to mirror the position her brother had taken when Elliot and herself had been brought into this very room many nights ago.
"You can't escape punishment for what you've done, Logan," The Queen announced, her eyes never leaving her brother's face. "I sentence you to death."
The crowd cheered as their sense of justice was about to be fulfilled. Logan, however, merely looked away from his little sister and closed his eyes. The Queen could not hide the small smile on her face as the guards dragged her older brother away. She had hoped he would put some form of resistance; perhaps even beg for his life or try to bribe her in some way as a last minute strategy. But he did no such thing. He kept up with the guards' strides and did not even try to look back at her. Even as they rounded the corner, he did not put up the effort to try to steal one last glance at his sister. The moment the three had disappeared around the corner, the Queen felt a sense of emptiness and even the familiar pang of guilt and regret.
The emotions were pushed away when she realized only she and Walter were the only ones left in the throne room. Walter was beginning to say something, but she interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "Leave me be," she muttered, suddenly feeling exhausted. Walter bowed obediently before leaving her alone in the room. The crown upon her head became heavy, forcing her to take it off and spin it around her fingers. Once the crown had almost dropped once or twice, the Queen put the symbol back on and made her way to her new bedroom.
The courtyard was in a blanket of thin fog. The new ruler of Albion watched from her window as a file of guards marched confidently through the veil. Standing still with his hands tied behind his back was Logan. The captain of the guard made sure the former king's bindings were secure before moving out of the way. The guards halted in front of the man and raised their guns upon the order.
The Queen watched with a racing heart as the guards aimed at her brother. A part of her hoped that the bullets would not be able to pierce the armor that clothed his chest, or that he would somehow perform magic that had been dormant for many years.
The guns fired and their deafening cries did not even make the Queen twitch. She saw the bullets ricochet off her brother's armor plate, save for one. That one bullet completely missed his chest and went straight through his forehead, only to come out from the other side. Blood and brains followed the projectile, splattering against the wall behind him. Logan's dead body fell backwards and the guards marched away, leaving his body alone.
As she stared down at the pool of crimson that was growing from beneath her brother's head, she could not help but wonder if this was all a dream. Would she wake up as a princess with her loyal dog next to her and Jasper forcing her to prepare for the day?
She stood still, paralyzed with shock. It had really happened. They had really executed Logan, her brother, her only remaining blood relative, Albion's former King. No one had questioned her decision like they had used to when she had been a princess. No one had dared to speak out against the Queen.
Happiness, regret, relief, guilt, anger...every emotion she was experiencing poured out of her in the form of tears, sobs and labored breathing.
Albion's Tyrant was dead.