Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'ed by Jadsmama

~ Eleven ~

Isabella soon found that the Denali court, like Cullen Manor, held many things for her to learn. The king, knowing the young girl needed as much diversion from what was about to pass on the other side of the border as he could offer, took great pains to initiate her into the matters of state and the fine art of handling the barons and seeing to it that they were happy yet still doing right by their tenants.

"You will be the queen of all your subjects, not just the rich and powerful ones," he warned her, though he already knew Isabella to be a fair judge by nature.

Isabella's head was spinning, part of her mind ever in turmoil for the well-being of Edward and the many other men fighting on her behalf, while the rest tried to hold on to as much as she could of Gareth's teachings. "How do you find the balance?" she wondered aloud. "It seems to me to be an impossible undertaking."

"It's difficult," Gareth nodded, "but I wouldn't say impossible. I would advise you to be cautious and bear in mind that, in the first years of your reign, there will come many occasions in which you feel like you've failed. The trick is, though, to never show it. Always remain aware of the fact that you are their queen and your will is law."

"Even if I'm wrong?" Isabella frowned. It didn't appear to be just to not admit it if she had erred in judgment.

"Especially when you're wrong," Gareth nodded. "For some of your nobles will take your indecisiveness and insecurity and twist it around until they have grounds for revolt."

Isabella sighed. "It feels like there's little I can do without stepping on people's toes. It almost makes me long for the solitude and protection of my imprisonment."

"I did not mean to scare you, milady," Gareth smiled, "but I did want to make you aware that the business of ruling a country is no trivial matter. Still, God has not called us to our office for nothing. We are the custodians He chose to look after His creation. Never forget that."

He smiled, both of them looking out across the fields and forests of the borderland. "Furthermore, you will have an excellent husband beside you to aide you in all matters of state and defend your rights against all those who dare challenge them."

Isabella smiled, her mind immediately drifting towards Edward and what he may be doing at that moment. Over the days, many messengers had come, reporting on the progress of the rebel army and it's massively growing numbers. It appeared that, as the message of Isabella's survival got out, the majority of the people of Forks picked her side, forcing Victoria to eventually relinquish the castle and the capitol and retreat with her own army to the borderland between Forks and Volturi, her motherland.

"Do you believe Victoria will retreat across the border without doing battle?" she asked, wringing her hands in her lap.

"For your sake, I hope not," Gareth answered, smiling tightly. " If Victoria manages to escape the country alive, she will remain a living focus for all those who might oppose you and with the backing of her family….." Gareth shook his head as he let his voice trail off. "Who knows what evil she might concoct."

"So it will have to come to war," Isabella sighed, her heart once again galloping with fear. "It will have to come to killing."

"As a queen, you sometimes have to resort to evil ways to achieve the greater good," Gareth nodded, feeling a small pang of sadness for the hard lessons of rulership this kind, sweet soul next to him would soon have to learn. "Do you have it in you to send a man to his death in order to protect your people from all the evil he might expose them to? For if you want to do justice to them and be a fair ruler to your subjects, I fear you will have to."

Isabella nodded, averting her eyes to her lap. She knew she had to. From what she'd read in all those ancient, courtly tales, she knew that being a queen meant passing judgment and locking all parts of you away that would impede her queenly state. "You are right," she finally spoke, forcing her eyes back up to meet the king's, "I will have to harden myself."

"A ruler always has two faces: the one he will show his subjects, and the one reserved for his family," Gareth nodded, feeling his heart swell with pride for this young girl. "I know it may seem like a daunting task right now but I know you have it in you to be the queen your people deserve. You have much of your father in you, Isabella, and with some time and experience you will be everything he was and more. If he were here now, he would be bursting with pride, seeing his little girl all grown up and ready to assume the place she was born to take up. Both your parents would be."

"I hope so," Isabella muttered, stepping away from the window as her mind became lost in thoughts of Edward, her parents and the immense task that lay ahead of her. If they managed to succeed.

The next few days passed in a similar fashion, the court assembled in the great hall with the refugees from Forks mingling in with the Denalians as they anxiously awaited news of the exploits of their husbands father's and brothers. Until finally, after many hours of fearful anticipation, a panting and travel worn express messenger bearing the white swan symbol adopted by the resistance was finally led into the king's great hall.

Isabella gasped, her hand going out to grab Alice's as the two friends were seated together on the left hand of the king, surrounded by many other of the refugee women.

"Give the man some wine!" Gareth immediately ordered, a servant immediately rushing towards the courier with a goblet of wine. "What news bring you to our court?"

"Yesterday, our troops finally managed to trick Victoria into open battle near the Volturi border, sire," the man panted, drawing a few gulps of wine from his cup. "We managed to take the victory from the field but at a great cause as many good men were slain….."

He paused again, his chest heaving as a tense silence fell over the room, the woman sending desperate pleas for their husbands' safe delivery from the battlefield up to the heavens as they waited with baited breath for the man to proceed. "I am afraid to announced that both the Lord of Locksley and Lord Black have fallen-" A loud, piercing wail echoed through the room as Charlotte Locksley fell to the floor, her ladies immediately rushing to her aid.

"What of the usurper?" Gareth demanded, Isabella's throat too locked with fear to speak.

"She got away," the courier answered, "but her man, James, was slain by the hands of young Whitlock." Alice let out a surprised gasp, her hand squeezing Isabella's as they continued to listen to the man's account. "The army is currently giving chase to Victoria and what is left of her troops. They have good hope of engaging her in a final battle within the next day or so."

"And…and what of lord Edward Cullen?" Isabella, finally managing to find her voice, asked. "Is he well?"

"As well as I could see, milady," the courier replied. "After Lord Peter fell, the army chose him to lead them into the final battle."

Isabella nodded, slightly disappointed at not receiving a personal word from her beloved but knowing that the public place they were both in and the demanding task of leading an army into battle offered no repose for suitors. "Assure him of my unyielding support and affection," she therefore spoke, knowing that Edward would read the love she could not openly declare in her words.

Gareth nodded, already noticing the incredible progress his young ward had made in assuming a queenly attitude. "Is there anything the army needs or lacks at the moment?"

"We are well," the courier assured him, "though maybe a little short on arrows after our latest battle."

"Then pray, take as many as you can carry on your way back," Gareth smiled, signaling for one of his soldiers to come forward. "My armory is at your disposal."

The courier took his leave then, he and his escort laden with arrows and other supplies as they cantered across the drawbridge; back into battle.

Thoughs?

The end is nigh (though not in a Mayan prophesy kind of way...at least, I hope not.)