Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me, cause if they did they'd still be
on the air. I'm just gonna borrow them and return them with big silly smiles
on their faces when I'm ready. Ally is mine but the concepts of the Queen
of Swords etc are not. They belong to their creators.
Archive: Sure, just let me know where (if you can) so I can update you when
the sequels are done
Type: Gen
Rating: PG
Pairing: None really
Status: New & complete
AU Type: Queen of Swords
Open: Well, I can't really see anybody wanting to write with my OC but
sure!! I won't ask for any restrictions on it but be nice to the new Queen.
Title: The Service
Author: Marianne
Feedback email: medison@thezone.net
URL: http://www.angelfire.com/tn/taycon/m7fanfic.html
Summary: Inez's view of the duty she has undertaken and a world in which
Colonel Anderson is the law; where the only justice comes through a bandit
Queen and another....unexpected source.
Spoilers: For the series? none really.
Author's Note: Basically, this series came out of the idea of me wondering
what if the Seven were hired by Montoya to catch the Queen but *then* I
decided to make it primarily a M7 story with QOS elements. Hence the way
it's turned out. There will be more stories, at least to tell the other
sides of *this* particular one. Depending on interest (cause there rarely
seems to be any *G*) I may go beyond that. The other stories I am
considering consists of one from Mary's POV (tentatively titled 'The
Journalist'), one from Colonel Anderson (Yep from the Premiere, his story
would be titled 'The Colonel'), at least one member of the Seven
(Tentatively titled 'The Hunters'), and quite possibly the Queen herself
(which would be - duh - 'The Queen').
Thanks for your patience. And thanks to Julie Jekel for the beta and for
trying to help me with my rudimentary spanish *G*.
"The Servant"
by M. Edison
------
When I was a very young girl, my mama read the cards for me. I was too young
to understand the meaning of it but I knew, when a very solemn expression
crossed her face, that I was destined for some great duty that none of my
family could share with me.
I was right.
See, in my family there is an amazing secret that we keep. Years ago, one of
us served a sacred duty to a great heroine who was known as the Queen of
Swords. The Queen, she fought against the tyranny of a colonel when he
greatly mistreated the people for his own ends. The woman who became the
Queen was a Doña whose very own father had been murdered on the orders of
the Colonel. It was my grandmother that helped the young woman become the
Queen. Become someone who could fight.
They were grand friends, she and the Queen: loyal to a fault and willing to
die for each other. In the end though, they died old women, happy and
friends. And when the Queen died, the truth of what she had been was brought
to my grandmother's children by her husband. He asked us to care fo the
Queen's things and keep them from harm. In the beginning, that was all it
was but as the years passed, legend formed around the chest that held these
precious items.
A legend that the Queen would one day return to claim it.
It was a favorite story among my family. One that was constantly told and
retold around camp fires to amuse little children. I was barely old enough
to sit on my mama's lap when I heard the story. Mama had heard the story the
same way and had always believed it to be just that...until she read the
cards for me and saw what was to come. Then she knew it to be the truth.
The Queen would return and, like Marta before me, I would be the one to help
her.
There is more, of course, but my Mama didn't understand it. She saw a woman
with hair like spun gold who would speak the truth in defense of the Queen,
and a group of men who claimed to be loyal to the one who sought her death
but followed their own path. It was very confusing.
And saddening.
She saw that to meet my destiny, I would have to leave my home and travel
far.
Her reading was true; when Don Paulo attacked me and I had to run, Mama knew
it was time.
She met me in the hills beyond the town, gave me the chest, and sent me
away.
I thought I was running to safety, protecting our family's secret. I was
wrong. I, and my precious cargo, ran toward destiny.
----
I hate waiting.
It is the one part of this undertaking I cannot stand.
Mary tells me to be patient but there is an underlying current to her voice.
Tension. She hides it better than I but it is still there.
I've read the cards three times. Each one told me nothing of the Queen's
whereabouts or her safety. For some reason I am not to know this. The only
things I see are about the new men Colonel Anderson has hired. Men he has
declared will kill the Queen.
I cannot understand why they would undertake this duty. They are good men.
Honorable men.
Why would they agree to hunt the only justice this territory has?
The Queen of Swords keeps Anderson at bay. He cannot control the people
because they know the Queen will fight on their side. She gives them hope.
It infuriates him. He knows she is only one woman and a mortal woman at
that, but still the people rally behind her like she is their avenging
angel.
Perhaps she is.
Perhaps she is Maria Theresa Alvarado reborn. Perhaps I am Marta reborn.
I do not know for sure. I only know we are playing out our destiny, my Queen
and I, like they did before us.
"Read the cards, Inez," Mary asks softly.
She's getting worried too.
Ally has been gone too long.
I begin dealing again, the action is rote. I do not see the pattern on the
backs of the age-worn cards. In my mind, I see another time I dealt these
cards.
—
I knew there was something about Alexandra Anderson the moment I laid eyes
on her. Her name was jarring to me. I knew that it wasn't right. That wasn't
supposed to be her name, I knew that. It seemed so natural to call her
'Alejandra' and it slipped past my lips before I knew what was happening.
The haunted look in her eyes told me the truth. That was her name and she
soon stepped forward, staring into my eyes.
Recognition.
It was then I knew who she was.
Ally. My childhood friend.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered, stepping close and taking my hand.
"I thought you were," I countered in shock.
"What happened?" The elegant Colonel's daughter was quite literally shaking.
"Tell me, please. I dream so much but I can't say what is memory and what is
dream."
"You remember me."
"Si." The Spanish word surprised her and her brow furrowed. "I don't speak
Spanish."
"Si, comprendes," I replied in that very language and watched shock dawn
across her face as she understood me. "Si, comprendes Doña Alejandra Maria
Alvarado a la lengua de su nacimiento."
The conversation we shared was long and something that one would expect of a
romance novel. The handsome Don traveling north and meeting a Cheyenne
healer. A woman he fell deeply in love with and married, despite her race. A
woman he'd taken back to his home to be Mistress of his house and of his
heart. Happy for a time, the happiness did not last. It ended when an
American captain had rode in with his troops to claim the territory. The
Dons had challenged him and paid dearly. Most with their lives, Don Alvarado
included.
He died on the steps of his hacienda with the captain standing over him, gun
in hand, and the young Alejandra sobbing at her father's side.
Moments later the young Doña became an orphan when her beloved mother died
by the same soldier's hand.
"It was the pain you see," I told her. "you could not bear to remember this
so you pushed it from memory."
Tears streamed freely down her face and she'd drawn me into an embrace,
whispering her thanks.
That's when she realized something that I did not yet know. The very man who
had murdered her adored family had taken her as his own child. Colonel
Anderson, the military governor of the territory.
Her so-called father.
The rage in her dark eyes had surprised even me. We are born of a people of
great passions but never before had I ever seen such a look. Not even in the
eyes of Don Paulo when I raced from the village square.
It was then I knew. Then I remembered the story my Mama had told me.
"Peace," I'd soothed. "Come, let me read the cards for you. We will see what
you are supposed to do."
"The cards?" She'd gaped at me through her tears. "What can pieces of paper
tell me?"
"More than you will ever truly know." Easily I drew her to a table, pushing
her into a seat and removing the cards from my bag. It was fortunate that I
had gone to see the town doctor so soon after arriving in Four Corners. Had
I waited, I might not have had them with me.
She'd waited impatiently as I laid them out. It was as if she could barely
keep herself from flying out the door in search of the man who'd destroyed
her life and given her a lie. Knowing Ally as I do now, that was her very
problem then. But, as now, she trusted me. Trusted the friendship of our
youth. She recalled enough of those brief few years in childhood when she'd
followed my every move, hanging onto my skirt and toddling around.
The very first card I'd picked up confirmed my thoughts.
The Queen of Swords.
It was then that I understood all that had happened to me. I had been sent
here to find Alejandra, to give her the Queen's things.
She was to become the Queen and I to be her helper.
—
"Inez?" Mary prompts from behind me, turning away from the window with her
arms wrapped around her midsection. "What do they say?"
Looking down, I saw the last card in my hand.
The Queen of Swords.
"She is well," I sigh in relief. "It is not she who dies tonight."
"But someone dies?"
"Not your gunman," I tease with a chuckle, looking at her with amused eyes.
Mary's brow furrows. "He is not my gunman."
"No." I sober. "He is the man Anderson has hired to kill the Queen."
"He won't do it," she protests, hurrying to stand before me. "Chris Larabee
is a man who carries a lot of pain but he is no murderer. He won't play into
Anderson's hands. He won't kill her."
"He takes the money," I remind her. "He and his compadres. They watch this
town and they hunt her."
"They won't do it and you know it, Inez," Mary argues. "you've seen it
yourself. They don't want her dead."
"No," I agree with a sigh. "they do not. But I cannot escape the fact they
were hired to kill her. Whether they want to now or not, they are men of
honor and they will do as they have been paid."
"Will they?" she questions, touching the cards. "Or will they join her?"
I do not have the answer.
Finis
Translations: "Si, comprendes" = "Yes, you understand"
"Por supuesto comprende Dona Alejandra Maria Alvarado a la lengua de su
nacimiento." = "Of course Dona Alejandra Maria Alvarado understands the
language of her birth,"
on the air. I'm just gonna borrow them and return them with big silly smiles
on their faces when I'm ready. Ally is mine but the concepts of the Queen
of Swords etc are not. They belong to their creators.
Archive: Sure, just let me know where (if you can) so I can update you when
the sequels are done
Type: Gen
Rating: PG
Pairing: None really
Status: New & complete
AU Type: Queen of Swords
Open: Well, I can't really see anybody wanting to write with my OC but
sure!! I won't ask for any restrictions on it but be nice to the new Queen.
Title: The Service
Author: Marianne
Feedback email: medison@thezone.net
URL: http://www.angelfire.com/tn/taycon/m7fanfic.html
Summary: Inez's view of the duty she has undertaken and a world in which
Colonel Anderson is the law; where the only justice comes through a bandit
Queen and another....unexpected source.
Spoilers: For the series? none really.
Author's Note: Basically, this series came out of the idea of me wondering
what if the Seven were hired by Montoya to catch the Queen but *then* I
decided to make it primarily a M7 story with QOS elements. Hence the way
it's turned out. There will be more stories, at least to tell the other
sides of *this* particular one. Depending on interest (cause there rarely
seems to be any *G*) I may go beyond that. The other stories I am
considering consists of one from Mary's POV (tentatively titled 'The
Journalist'), one from Colonel Anderson (Yep from the Premiere, his story
would be titled 'The Colonel'), at least one member of the Seven
(Tentatively titled 'The Hunters'), and quite possibly the Queen herself
(which would be - duh - 'The Queen').
Thanks for your patience. And thanks to Julie Jekel for the beta and for
trying to help me with my rudimentary spanish *G*.
"The Servant"
by M. Edison
------
When I was a very young girl, my mama read the cards for me. I was too young
to understand the meaning of it but I knew, when a very solemn expression
crossed her face, that I was destined for some great duty that none of my
family could share with me.
I was right.
See, in my family there is an amazing secret that we keep. Years ago, one of
us served a sacred duty to a great heroine who was known as the Queen of
Swords. The Queen, she fought against the tyranny of a colonel when he
greatly mistreated the people for his own ends. The woman who became the
Queen was a Doña whose very own father had been murdered on the orders of
the Colonel. It was my grandmother that helped the young woman become the
Queen. Become someone who could fight.
They were grand friends, she and the Queen: loyal to a fault and willing to
die for each other. In the end though, they died old women, happy and
friends. And when the Queen died, the truth of what she had been was brought
to my grandmother's children by her husband. He asked us to care fo the
Queen's things and keep them from harm. In the beginning, that was all it
was but as the years passed, legend formed around the chest that held these
precious items.
A legend that the Queen would one day return to claim it.
It was a favorite story among my family. One that was constantly told and
retold around camp fires to amuse little children. I was barely old enough
to sit on my mama's lap when I heard the story. Mama had heard the story the
same way and had always believed it to be just that...until she read the
cards for me and saw what was to come. Then she knew it to be the truth.
The Queen would return and, like Marta before me, I would be the one to help
her.
There is more, of course, but my Mama didn't understand it. She saw a woman
with hair like spun gold who would speak the truth in defense of the Queen,
and a group of men who claimed to be loyal to the one who sought her death
but followed their own path. It was very confusing.
And saddening.
She saw that to meet my destiny, I would have to leave my home and travel
far.
Her reading was true; when Don Paulo attacked me and I had to run, Mama knew
it was time.
She met me in the hills beyond the town, gave me the chest, and sent me
away.
I thought I was running to safety, protecting our family's secret. I was
wrong. I, and my precious cargo, ran toward destiny.
----
I hate waiting.
It is the one part of this undertaking I cannot stand.
Mary tells me to be patient but there is an underlying current to her voice.
Tension. She hides it better than I but it is still there.
I've read the cards three times. Each one told me nothing of the Queen's
whereabouts or her safety. For some reason I am not to know this. The only
things I see are about the new men Colonel Anderson has hired. Men he has
declared will kill the Queen.
I cannot understand why they would undertake this duty. They are good men.
Honorable men.
Why would they agree to hunt the only justice this territory has?
The Queen of Swords keeps Anderson at bay. He cannot control the people
because they know the Queen will fight on their side. She gives them hope.
It infuriates him. He knows she is only one woman and a mortal woman at
that, but still the people rally behind her like she is their avenging
angel.
Perhaps she is.
Perhaps she is Maria Theresa Alvarado reborn. Perhaps I am Marta reborn.
I do not know for sure. I only know we are playing out our destiny, my Queen
and I, like they did before us.
"Read the cards, Inez," Mary asks softly.
She's getting worried too.
Ally has been gone too long.
I begin dealing again, the action is rote. I do not see the pattern on the
backs of the age-worn cards. In my mind, I see another time I dealt these
cards.
—
I knew there was something about Alexandra Anderson the moment I laid eyes
on her. Her name was jarring to me. I knew that it wasn't right. That wasn't
supposed to be her name, I knew that. It seemed so natural to call her
'Alejandra' and it slipped past my lips before I knew what was happening.
The haunted look in her eyes told me the truth. That was her name and she
soon stepped forward, staring into my eyes.
Recognition.
It was then I knew who she was.
Ally. My childhood friend.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered, stepping close and taking my hand.
"I thought you were," I countered in shock.
"What happened?" The elegant Colonel's daughter was quite literally shaking.
"Tell me, please. I dream so much but I can't say what is memory and what is
dream."
"You remember me."
"Si." The Spanish word surprised her and her brow furrowed. "I don't speak
Spanish."
"Si, comprendes," I replied in that very language and watched shock dawn
across her face as she understood me. "Si, comprendes Doña Alejandra Maria
Alvarado a la lengua de su nacimiento."
The conversation we shared was long and something that one would expect of a
romance novel. The handsome Don traveling north and meeting a Cheyenne
healer. A woman he fell deeply in love with and married, despite her race. A
woman he'd taken back to his home to be Mistress of his house and of his
heart. Happy for a time, the happiness did not last. It ended when an
American captain had rode in with his troops to claim the territory. The
Dons had challenged him and paid dearly. Most with their lives, Don Alvarado
included.
He died on the steps of his hacienda with the captain standing over him, gun
in hand, and the young Alejandra sobbing at her father's side.
Moments later the young Doña became an orphan when her beloved mother died
by the same soldier's hand.
"It was the pain you see," I told her. "you could not bear to remember this
so you pushed it from memory."
Tears streamed freely down her face and she'd drawn me into an embrace,
whispering her thanks.
That's when she realized something that I did not yet know. The very man who
had murdered her adored family had taken her as his own child. Colonel
Anderson, the military governor of the territory.
Her so-called father.
The rage in her dark eyes had surprised even me. We are born of a people of
great passions but never before had I ever seen such a look. Not even in the
eyes of Don Paulo when I raced from the village square.
It was then I knew. Then I remembered the story my Mama had told me.
"Peace," I'd soothed. "Come, let me read the cards for you. We will see what
you are supposed to do."
"The cards?" She'd gaped at me through her tears. "What can pieces of paper
tell me?"
"More than you will ever truly know." Easily I drew her to a table, pushing
her into a seat and removing the cards from my bag. It was fortunate that I
had gone to see the town doctor so soon after arriving in Four Corners. Had
I waited, I might not have had them with me.
She'd waited impatiently as I laid them out. It was as if she could barely
keep herself from flying out the door in search of the man who'd destroyed
her life and given her a lie. Knowing Ally as I do now, that was her very
problem then. But, as now, she trusted me. Trusted the friendship of our
youth. She recalled enough of those brief few years in childhood when she'd
followed my every move, hanging onto my skirt and toddling around.
The very first card I'd picked up confirmed my thoughts.
The Queen of Swords.
It was then that I understood all that had happened to me. I had been sent
here to find Alejandra, to give her the Queen's things.
She was to become the Queen and I to be her helper.
—
"Inez?" Mary prompts from behind me, turning away from the window with her
arms wrapped around her midsection. "What do they say?"
Looking down, I saw the last card in my hand.
The Queen of Swords.
"She is well," I sigh in relief. "It is not she who dies tonight."
"But someone dies?"
"Not your gunman," I tease with a chuckle, looking at her with amused eyes.
Mary's brow furrows. "He is not my gunman."
"No." I sober. "He is the man Anderson has hired to kill the Queen."
"He won't do it," she protests, hurrying to stand before me. "Chris Larabee
is a man who carries a lot of pain but he is no murderer. He won't play into
Anderson's hands. He won't kill her."
"He takes the money," I remind her. "He and his compadres. They watch this
town and they hunt her."
"They won't do it and you know it, Inez," Mary argues. "you've seen it
yourself. They don't want her dead."
"No," I agree with a sigh. "they do not. But I cannot escape the fact they
were hired to kill her. Whether they want to now or not, they are men of
honor and they will do as they have been paid."
"Will they?" she questions, touching the cards. "Or will they join her?"
I do not have the answer.
Finis
Translations: "Si, comprendes" = "Yes, you understand"
"Por supuesto comprende Dona Alejandra Maria Alvarado a la lengua de su
nacimiento." = "Of course Dona Alejandra Maria Alvarado understands the
language of her birth,"