A/N: This was in my notebook for so long, and I've finally just gotten around to post it. As the title says, it's about Diana, who I think is incredibly depressing. But that just might be 'cause writing in her POV is depressing.
I have taken 'artistic liberty' with this, due to the fact that only a little information about Diana and Dorothy's past is available.
Disclaimer: I don't own MAR. And never will.
Rewritten 12-02-13 for nostalgic reasons, and because characterization was awful. Fangirl Japanese also removed.
Queen
Because Destiny cannot be averted
I was born Diana, daughter of Aoife. I was beloved by everyone, a true people's princess. I excelled at everything. Magic, the Arts, I was skilled at them all, as benefited a member of my rank. My family was old, our lineage running back hundreds of hundreds of years, and there was nothing that I could not have. Everything I wanted was within my grasp, I only had to ask.
Rarely did someone deny me what I wanted. How could they? I was the daughter of two of the most influential people in Caldia. And I had to admit, the thought of someone denying me what was rightfully mine was infuriating. Once, long ago, one of the Elders had named my need 'Greed'. They did not understand. It was not greed that drove me to claim all that was within my grasp. It was my right by birth, by blood, by the powerful magic I held within me. None could contest my strength, not even when I was but a child. It stood to reason that whatever I wished for, I deserved, by right of my existence.
I had many playmates, all of them children from Caldia's magical families. They were all beneath me, but I must confess, I craved their companionship nevertheless. They were obedient, deferred to my every whim and judgement, and I had made the foolish mistake of believing them to all be simple, dull sparks who could never match my own burning flame. I made the mistake of believing that I was beloved, that they would be grateful for my very presence. I was eight when I found the truth out.
I had been walking down a street, when raised voices caught my ear. Being a curios child, I had ducked down and peeked into the alleyway, careful to not let my distinctive pink hair shine in the light.
"Mama! I don't want to play with Diana anymore! She's stupid and ugly, and sooooo boring." A female voice cut through the air, one I recognized. A girl named Karen, who had not been as dull as the others, and for that reason I had thought her close to me. Before I could get over the shock that she had called me ugly – I was a classic beauty, even then I knew, unlike Karen with her murky hair and flat nose and the freckles that marred her skin – her mother slapped her.
Good, I had thought. Put her in her place. No one spoke thus to me. Once more I would find myself mistaken.
"I don't care what you want," the woman hissed, "You'll do what's good for the family! If playing with Aoife's stupid brat gets our family into their good graces, then you'll worship the ground she walks on!"
I had been stunned. Shocked with the utter betrayal. I had wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground, to disappear and forget. Only the knowledge that I was Diana, daughter of Aoife, kept me where I was, kept my composure. And... for the first time, I began to closely observe the gaggle of children who had unquestioningly gathered themselves around me. They were all so eager to please, so willing to do anything for a smile, to stand up for me. Subtly I pushed the limits. If I airily declared that the sky was much better off green, I would be greeted with a dozen nods and exclamations of how clever I was, of how Diana clearly knew better than everyone else.
It was sickening, to say the least. I couldn't bear being surrounded by simpering fools for a moment longer, and then and there, I vowed that I would be forever alone, and trust only in my own self, lest I be betrayed once more, by someone I had thought dear.
Days went by. I dismissed all of my playmates on the pretence that one of them had stolen from me. If they would lie and be untrue, then I would do the same. They were no longer deserving of my favour, this I understood.
I must admit that my intentions were not entirely noble. I had taken much satisfaction in the thought of how they would go, crestfallen, to explain to their ambitious mothers and fathers why they were no longer welcome to accompany me.
As I no longer had playmates, I spent my time exploring the ancient and magical land of Caldia. It was common enough, for adventurous children to wander the continent. As we were taught to use the Dimension ÄRM Andata from a young age, we could wander to our heart's content, and return home for the evening. This suited me well.
Once, when I returned from the day's journey, I was greeted by my old Nurse. She was beaming happily, and looked so overwhelmingly pleased, though her news had nothing to do with herself.
"Oh, Lady Diana!" She exclaimed, "You are blessed, blessed indeed! You have a sister!" My jaw dropped at that. Never had I imagined the reason Mother never ventured out was because she was having a baby. My second thought was that this was one person who would never betray me. She would love me, adore me, become my closest and only confident. Blood would never betray blood. I loved her already.
To my displeasure, I could not meet my younger sibling, who Mother had named Dorothy, after her esteemed grandmother. It wasn't until the second month of her life that I thought of using my status to gain entry to Mother's room. I walked, head held high, the very picture of authority, to the guards placed at the door and demanded imperiously to be let into the room this instant. The guards exchanged glances, but they opened the door all the same. I was Diana, and they had no right to bar my passage.
Mother welcomed me, but gestured for me to be silent, as Dorothy was sleeping. I slipped up to her crib and peered in. She was such an adorable creature, all rounded cheeks and wisps of pale hair; I couldn't help but giggle and clap my hands in delight. Mother stood up and gently placed her hand on my shoulder.
"Be a good role model to Dorothy, Diana." She said gently. "Be kind and gentle to your sister, and teach her everything you know."
A year later, she passed away. Father was beside himself with grief, confining himself to his room for hours at a time, to wallow in his sorrow. I had allowed myself to cry for the first day, but after that my tears were no more. I had to be strong, because Father was too weak. Someone had to take care of Dorothy, and I did not trust the nursemaids, not when I could see the shadows of ambition in their eyes. I was not much older than ten, but my mind exceeded the body.
Slowly, it seemed, Dorothy grew up. I put an end to my wanderings, spending all my time with her. I was there when Father could not be; my name was the first word she uttered, her first steps taken under my guidance. She sat in the corner with a doll as I took lessons with children much older than I, and smiled when I outshone the rest of the class. She hated to be away from me for any long period of time, and I was only alone when she slept.
I understood her actions, and because I was no child, I took a breath and accepted the cage forming around me. I was the only blood relation she had, as Father almost never left his study anymore. When he did, my dear sister was paraded before him like a doll, before she was allowed to take her seat next to me. When Father turned up for meals, we ate in silence. Dorothy always hated those dinners and secretly, I did too.
Many women were glad that my beloved Mother dead. They thought that they could steal Father's heart and his fortune, his title, his nobility. Their efforts were in vain. Father loved Mother too deeply to even consider taking another wife, but once, just once, he expressed concern over Dorothy's lack of a mature female influence. I had been much pleased that he was speaking to me as he would any other adult, that he did not treat me like a child. What need did Dorothy have of a strange woman running our household? She had me, and I was more than capable. Father had nodded, quiet, and the topic had never been brought up again, and I did not have to endure a jealous stepmother.
When I turned thirteen, I learned about Tom, though I did not know him, then. I had wandered into a village near the Floating Palace of Caldia. I did not meet him, nor did I see him with my own eyes. It was only by sheer coincidence that I happened upon a whispered conversation.
"Did you hear, did you hear? Someone broke into that place." It was the glee in her voice that had caught my ear, and I paused to listen.
"No." The other woman widened her eyes, scandalized. What could be so interesting, I had wondered.
"Oh, yes. And that's not the best part. It was—" She froze and swivelled around to look at me. Because of my regal bearing and the particular shade of pink that marked Aoife's line, I could not fade into the background. I drew eyes simply by existing, much like how the great king of beasts commanded all attention. And thus, I was caught out, and the conversation ended.
"O-oh. Good day, Lady Diana." The woman smiled and curtsied.
I curtsied back, as a princess to an older woman. She smiled at my impeccable manners and gave me an apple from her basket, along with a straw doll 'for your dearest sister'. I accepted the offering and thanked her, the earlier conversation regulated to the back of my mind. Dorothy loved the doll, but not as much as the ones I made for her.
When she was six, I first gave her the doll Pinocchio. She loved the toy, but as children frequently do, she broke it within a week. When she brought the crippled thing to me, its arms and legs sticking out at horribly wrong angles, I had seethed with anger. How dare she treat something I created with such lack of care! I would have struck her had I not remembered Mother's words. She was a child and I, a young woman. It would be unseemly for me to resort to such childish actions. She was young, and I would forgive. Instead, I took the toy from her and mended it. When I returned it to her, she flushed with joy and threw her arms around me. Over the years, I created many more dolls for Dorothy, all of them broken at least once. And so another year went by.
I was sixteen and she seven when Father finally died of a broken heart. We mpurned, as good daughters should, but deep inside, I was relieved. No longer would his shadow loom over my shoulder; no longer would I be confined. Finally, I was free.
Time went by. Four years passed in the blink of an eye. I was finally of age, and could rightly take my place as the head of our household, as the eldest Heir. The Elders thought differently. I was to be passed over in favour of my distant cousin, who had also come of age. The old man though to grant this boon to the clumsy buffoon, and to deny me my heritage. I had never been as furious as I had been on that day.
Feeling that I had lost everything, and I had, I began to wander in the hopes of finding something to engage my mind once more. It was then that I recalled that day years ago, when I had heard rumours of a mysterious room. With that thought in mind, I began to seek such a room in secret.
I searched far and wide, mapping every nook and cranny of Caldia. Dorothy, the most observant of us all, noticed my preoccupation. For the first time, I thought of the hours I spent with her as a distraction, so restless and eager was I to find this mysterious room. It was a necessity, to divert my clever sister. For she was clever, almost as clever as I had been. It was almost expected for someone who shared the same blood as me.
Finally, a year later, I found it. I gently touched the secret ornate door, and it swung silently open. I found myself in an empty room. There were no gold and jewels, nor the rarest of ÄRM. It was such a crushing disappointment that I almost wept, but then I noticed the small orb sitting on a velvet cushion in the centre of the room. Unlike the last to enter, I had enough foresight to close the door behind me as I entered. I kneeled, to better examine my prize.
Queen…Queeeen...
The whisper sent a ripple of shock through me, and my head snapped up. But the room was empty as it had ever been, and the owner of the voice was not visible to me.
My precious, great Queeeeen...
"Who's speaks" I had demanded of the breathless voice. As the words left my mouth, my eyes fell on the darkly swirling orb, a thought slowly surfacing in my mind.
Come cloossser to meeee...
I leaned closer and reached out to the orb.
It sang to me. It told me how humans, greedy humans, were polluting the world. How they were destroying everything, and how the world had to be cleansed, purged of the rot of humanity. I did not believe. Although I knew of the treachery and deceit that corrupted the roots of human nature, though I knew the depth of human cruelty, I did not believe. To my credit, I had never explored outside of Caldia, never met the simple people who lived outside our blessed land.
So the Orb proposed I travel. Travel to new lands and see how the rest of MÄR Heaven lived. It was a reasonable suggestion, but impossible; none had been allowed to leave in over a century. There would be no passage granted to me.
Again, the Orb had a suggestion. Rescue Tom, it said, He is what you need to break out of this cage, my Queen. He alone can help you turn your back on your homeland, he alone can understand your plight. Remember his past, remember that his parents slew themselves rather than kill their beloved son. He alone can help. And then you will return victorious, to claim your birthright and throne.
My faith wavered. It was true that I could not grow, confined as I was. It was true that all the others expected of me was to be a mother and a wife. I could not, would not, bow down to them. I was born to be a Queen, the Orb prophesied, and I would become one, by their hand or my own.
I wanted freedom, and the though that it would not be given willingly made it all the more precious to me. I, Diana, Firstborn of Aoife, would not be denied.
So I waited, patient. I gathered near thirty-score ÄRM. I obtained everything I would need to survive, and let the months trickle by. When my preparations were finally complete, I made my way down into the depths of the dungeon.
He was there, the poor boy. Alone and imprisoned for ten years. I would have seemed like an angel to him—an avenging angel, overwhelming with grace and benevolence. I explained everything, as the Orb bid me to do so. And when I asked if he would join me, he wept tears of joy and pledged his life to me.
Breaking him out of the dungeon was pathetically easy. In the time it took for the guards to realize he'd gone, and it was a long time between their visits, for none cared about the secret prisoner, the boy who had no kin to take his life, Tom helped me gather hundreds more ÄRM. I was but two and twenty when I turned my back on Caldia forever. I do not regret, and I have never doubted the rightness of my choice.
For months we wandered MÄR Heaven, and I learned. The humans were powerless and ignorant. Selfish. Envious. Spiteful. Just as the Orb had believed, they were rotten to the core, and the knowledge pained me.
One day, we chanced upon Lestava. Beautiful Lestava with her shimmering towers and pennants fluttering gaily in the wind. That was when I realized my destiny. Lestava was the heart of MÄR Heaven. A Lestavian queen was a queen amongst queens. As fate would have it, they had no queen. She was gone and buried for two years, leaving behind a daughter and a husband who would do anything for his child, much like my own father.
I, with the bluest Caldian blood running through my veins, would become the queen of queens.
The king was smitten with my beauty, and we were wed within the month. I was the perfect wife and queen. I was gentle and kind. Graceful. Regal. The people loved me, and how could they not? I was born to be loved and adored.
Gold, jewels, nothing was denied to me. I resorted to the instincts of my childhood. My possessions must be finer than that of any other queen, for I was no ordinary monarch. The child, Snow, adored me, and as she reminded me of my dear sister—Dorothy would be fourteen the following year. I wondered when the Elder would send her after me—I spent long hours with her. My compassion did not go unrewarded. Many, many times she scampered up to me and regaled me with tales of another world, one in which she was a child named 'Koyuki'. At first I believed these were flights of fancy, but soon after I realized she spoke the truth. My mind flew towards a tale I heard when I was a child, where the Dimension ÄRM: The Gatekeeper Clown brought a human to this world, one who became a hero. I began to scheme once more.
I named my faithful servant 'Phantom', for the leader of my army could not be any ordinary 'Tom', and blessed him with unending life. He was sent to gather my army, and it was two years before I saw him again.
When he returned, he announced that the honour of naming was left for me alone. I looked down at the game we were playing, where ranked pieces moved around a board. It was a game of war. How fitting, I thought. Chess, they called it, and so I named them.
Thus the Chess Pieces were born.
They rampaged over MÄR Heaven, lighting the fires of war. They followed my instructions through First Knight Phantom, slaying all who crossed their paths, drawing attention to themselves. And the world burned.
When the first notice came, I was flushed and as angry as the best of warriors, as shocked as everyone around me, although for a different reason. It had taken this long for my militia to be noticed? The humiliation was devastating. But the people rejoiced, for they believed they were under the rule of a warrior queen. They were right, but not in the way they believed.
When the second came, I alone gathered Lestava's forces. The King, fool that he was, I locked in the darkest, dampest dungeon, and spun a tale of how the Chess Pieces had stolen him away. It was true enough. I gave the Cross Guard what ÄRM I had left, and sent them into battle against the Chess.
My hand was the one that gave the soldier Alan The Gatekeeper Clown. The Otherworlder was summoned, and I could feel the ripple in the world, in the magic, when he arrived, proving the legendary myth true. I watched from behind the scenes as he and Phantom felled each other. I did not betray myself, even as they sealed my loyal servant and his ÄRM Babbo away. The Knight Peta took up the mantle of leadership. Slowly, painfully, he rebuilt the Chess. Six long years it took him, but his resolve never wavered. His loyalty was commendable. I expected nothing less.
I was their commander, the power behind the throne. I was their Queen, ruthless and cold. I felt nothing but the clench of ambition, moderated and restrained.
But that was not so. I was not entirely heartless. I dreaded the day when she would come. I knew Dorothy. She was the only one of my blood, and by the ancient law of Caldia, the one who must kill me. I knew that when the time came, one of us would slay the other, and I... I did not know what action I would take. For no matter the roles we played, she was still the same Dorothy I had read stories to, who had fallen asleep on my lap, who had never looked at me with anything but absolute trust and shining love.
But that would not happen for a long time, and there was naught to gain from such thoughts. I continued to gather ÄRM for my army. I watched and waited as Snow grew up, as she escaped beyond my reach. The dog, Edward, mistrusted me. He saw a shadow of the truth, and coaxed the princess to flee. It was an irritating problem, but not one that could not be resolved. I knew better than to send legions after her. I knew Snow. She would not let herself run for long.
I felt it when someone summoned the Otherworlder, and I had cursed that I had not retrieved The Gatekeeper Clown. A day after his arrival, the ÄRM Babbo was unsealed. My anticipation was unmatched, except for Peta's. For Babbo and Phantom were connected, and the freeing of one meant the eventual release of the other. The Second War would begin, and this time I would become victorious. This time, I would rule both worlds. It was my right, and my claim would not be denied.
I struggle to breathe as I plummet towards the floor, my wings gone. The cold, cold floor slams into me, knocking the breath from my throat. I feel nothing as I crumple.
"Two worlds..." I gasp, "I so wanted them..." Even with the darkness creeping at the edge of my vision, I can see Dorothy reaching for me. Her blue eyes glisten, and it is with a dull pang that I realize she is crying.
"Sister..."
"It's been so long... since I was called that..." The lights seem to dim, and I cannot feel anything below my torso. Even so, I want her to understand.
"The King will explain... that I am right..." It is getting harder to speak, but I force myself to continue. I cannot, I will not leave Dorothy alone without having her understand. Slowly, oh so painfully slowly, I lift my hand and pull my mask off, so she can see that I am smiling, that I do not blame her. We both knew that this day would come.
My arm trembles, just little bit, as I reach out to her blurring figure, the only spot of color in an otherwise white room.
"But you know, Dorothy? I never stopped loving you..."
A drop of wetness hits my cheek as darkness envelops me.
This timeline is so messed up, I refuse to believe that Diana is thirty and Dorothy is fifteen. Headcanon puts Diana in her late twenties and Dorothy nine years younger, because there's no way she's fifteen. Late teens, most likely.
No comments about the timeline, please.
- Blaze