~*Everything I Did, I Did It For You*~
The heat that enveloped Bowerstone Industrial that day was almost unbearable. A thin line of sweat ran down the back of her neck, but the Queen took no notice of this. Ignoring the elements to the best of her ability, she fixed cold, calculating eyes on Page as she spoke of the horrors of child labor, how it should be halted immediately. She mentioned the promise the Queen had made, begging to remember it now.
Reaver disputed, bringing up how successful the program was, how much money it earned for the kingdom as a whole. Both of their words, good and evil, bounced around in her skull, neither fully processed to the point of understanding. All she could think about was that gunfire…the one that ended her brother's life.
That day in the court room was almost a blur. The accusations that shot arrows threw her heart about her brother rang in her ears. She needed to be strong, don't appear weak…
Logan demanded something of her. His life. You hold the power of life and death….now choose. But she had chosen. All of the suffering, all of the hatred of Albion had been upon her shoulders, to the point that she could barely speak. She only did what she thought her country wanted of her, as she always had.
For the crimes against Albion, I sentence you to death.
The words slithered past her lips like a serpent, and she felt her heart shatter as the realization settled on her elder brother's face. Her elder brother, whose heartbeats were now limited, was to die by her words.
There was no hesitation in the execution. The guards led the overthrown King out of the room and into the courtyard. She couldn't move; she clutched the sides of her chair like it was her only lifeline. She couldn't watch; her own brother's life was to be taken away like a common traitor. She couldn't breathe; there was no air to be breathed.
When the gunshot sounded, her heart stopped beating. Her muscles instantly relaxed though, oxygen refilled her lungs, and her face froze in an indifferent mask. No, she couldn't appear so weak in front of her subjects. They all cheered, and cheered at the death of the fallen tyrant, convinced that there was a better tomorrow now that he was finally dead. No….no, he was trying to protect you.
Her Generals had patted her on the back, attempting to be comforting. She saw no condolences in their eyes though, only greedy triumph. Even Page, whom was the only one too offer a kind word, had no sympathy to spare. To the Queen, this was even worse. A betrayal.
She stumbled to her chambers later that evening, pale white and shell-shocked. It was at that moment the full gravity of everything around her began to settle in, and she collapsed onto the soft carpet of her room. The need to fund for an army, the only way to save everyone from certain death. The need to become an even worse tyrant than her deceased older brother.
Logan…why did you never tell me…? I don't want this anymore…I don't want it!
She lied on the soft flooring until the break of dawn, remembering how to breathe, remembering how to think. She knew that today would bring her to the factories of Industrial, to Page and Reaver, the first stepping stones of her reign. The queen knew what must have been done; there wasn't enough time for another option. Quickly combing her knotted hair, and covering her insomnia-colored eyes in make-up she skipped down to the almost empty treasury to meet the despicable man named Hobson, greeting him with an empty yet polite smile. He informed her about the judgment to be taken in the factories, and she nodded blankly.
And now, here she stood. Broken, barely hanging by a thread. She had taken the facade of almost a child, awaiting the moment she could rip out her siblings hair. She listened, barely registering to the quarrels of the opposite sides of morality with a sugary, cruel expression, and when it finally ended she clapped her hands together, smiling joyously. Her decision had been made a long time ago.
"Oh, honestly, Page, the factory is all these poor kids know," she said, watching the puzzled, and then dawning face of the idealist. "It would just be cruel to place them in a learning environment at this point. The child labor laws stays put." If cats could grin, Reaver's smirk would be what it looked like.
"Couldn't have said it better myself, my Queen," he said. The crowd cheered once again, probably even unaware of the decision she had made. It was a sound that now grated against her ears. She wished they would all just shut up… It was then Page suddenly seemed to find her voice, eyes flashing dangerously as she glared loathingly at the Queen.
"How could you? After all we've been through together!" she screeched. "You're just as bad as… Logan!"
At her words, the Queen felt shattered all over again. No matter how longed she lived to be, she knew that her brother's disheartened face when those fateful words were spoken would haunt her forever. She couldn't have known…she couldn't have… Any decisions she ever made were to fulfill the obligations she owed to her country, including her brother's life. Her promises to Albion…the promise to bring down her brother… It was always about Albion…
"Just as bad as Logan…?" she whispered, in a voice so low and trembling, no one could hear her. Her emotions then locked together in one cold, knotted fist, and she regained her cruel, honey-like expression. "Just as bad as Logan, you say?" she repeated sweetly, surging towards Page like a poisonous serpent. "Oh, don't be silly, dear." Pulling out her hand, she grabbed the idealists chin, drawing her closer to whisper, "I'm much worse."
Page didn't speak again, her eyes glazed with shock. Seeing this as a means of an end, she roughly shoved the girl away, and began to walk home.
"Do I dare to hope you'll arrive at the next hearing, Reaver? I do enjoy your eye-opening logic," she caressed the words, and walked away. She could almost hear the cogs in the pirate's head begin to turn at full speed. The crowd still didn't seem to register what had happened, screaming their heads off as the savior of Albion walked past them, off to go save the day.
How idiotic.
Everything I've ever done was for Albion. She knocked her way past the various people, uninterested in the admiration they showed. Everything was for the people, people I never even knew… But for what? She was more than well aware of the impending doom of the Crawler…a year until it came here…there wasn't enough time… I can only become what he was too good of a person to be; I have unwillingly taken this burden onto my shoulders….with no one to understand me…
All because of Albion.
It was then that the Queen realized her worst mistake. These people…these greedy, idiotic people who would cheer for blood and death as long as it entertained them… She thought they were the good people; they were the ones she needed to save. But all this time, it was her elder brother, not the people, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, doing everything in his power to save them all. These people…
Everything she had ever said was just a lie now. The people of Albion didn't deserve her attempt at a better life. Logan had sacrificed his morality, his sanity, to try and save them all, but the were too ignorant to realize their fatal mistake in wanting him dead. But he was gone now, and all they had was her.
Blood was thicker than water, and now her only blood-kin was dead. She would do everything in her power to make those punishable pay. Logan would be nothing compared to her reign of terror, even long after the events of the Crawler. All those staying alive for her efforts were only an inconvenience, but one she'll live with.
The people of Albion don't even know the meaning of the word tyrant. Never again would she have to hear them cheer.
Anything she did now wasn't for them anymore.
It was for her brother.
"I'm much, MUCH worse..."
~*O*~
Because Logan always wanted his little sister to become an insane tyrant. I'm sure he's proud! ^^
Okay, let me just start by saying I would never, ever, ever kill Logan in game. However, I was hanging around on YouTube when curiosity decided to attack and I found myself watching Logan's execution. It was horrible! I was depressed for the rest of the day.
After I decided to play Fable III again, I wanted to be just as equally horrible, tyrant and such, all to make Logan look a-freaking-mazing. "They still love their Princess, my ASS!" Yes, yes, I realize the childishness of my logic, but whatever, I'm a fangirl! As I was playing through the game, this idea popped into my head as to what would happen if our Queen got the same idea. Needless to say, it didn't go so well. And now, here I sit, coffee in hand, as I finish the piece I've been writing for the last two hours at two o'clock in the morning. HUZZAH!
(Oh, and please ignore the possible spelling and grammar errors I might have, and probably have, made. It is two o'clock in the morning.)