OWED TO THE PEOPLE [PK]

[Zaerie 3576]

Queen Catherine I

1938 - 1979

 

 

Spoiler

 

 

---

 

 

Catherine had been born as a replacement. Her first breath caused her mothers last, and the weight of a river nation immediately settled onto the shoulders of a small, weak, ginger babe. Her life, her very existence seemed to echo that of a prophecy, a trade, a deal. For all around this royal child would both be death, and hope. The bringer of violence, blood, and suffering, would also reign in a new era of prosperity and dreams for the people of the Petra.

For what did not burn would not rebuild.

For those that did not suffer would not grow stronger.

For what was not paid would not be received.

 

The innocent young Princess would be neither innocent nor a Princess for long, the fire of resentment taking each in time. As she had been hunted for her blood by darkspawn, chained to a burning tree until she had been saved. As she had ordered an arsonist and a murderer be executed, having been denied the option of giving him a trial. As she had taken upon her shoulders her Crown at ten. As her childhood was ripped away from her, so had the peace. As violent neighbours began to threaten the sovereignty of her crown and nation, the child Queen was forced to declare war.

 

She burnt the same hall that she had baked the Veletzians cake in, once upon a time.

She besieged the same keep that housed a family that betrayed the Petra, once upon a time.

She killed the same men that had sat within her halls, once upon a time.

 

Catherine used to believe sometimes that God owed her an apology for the life that she lived. Then it seemed perhaps that she was an apology to the people of the Petra that he had abandoned for so long. Now, she doesn't fully believe that she had been her own person at all; she was simply a vessel, a means to an end. Now that she has fulfilled all that she was created to do, her last task was simple; die.

 

Fate hadn’t been kind to the young princess that had dared to dream. Death had been her cold companion since she had still slept in her crib, violence a constant howling breeze through the windows of her home, fury the raging river that flowed around her city and land that she was never able to escape. She had never wanted to be hateful, but hope and patience had been beaten out of her young by the cruel truths of life and rulership.

 

 

---

 

 

It had only been a handful of years after Catherine had begun, and finalised the uniting of Aaun and Petra that she had begun to fall ill. The cough started slowly, rattling her weakening bones until it started pulling up blood from her lungs. The once strong Queen, who fought in battles since she declared war at fourteen, became bedridden for years.

 

“Darling, it’s alright.” Catherine smiled at her eldest daughter, “I’ve been fighting for too long, it had to catch up eventually.”

 

Doctors and medics were able to slow the progression of her illness significantly, but nothing made it better. A mix of her sickness, past injuries, and years in smoke filled battlefields had made Catherine’s lungs weak and susceptible. 

 

Rowena held her mother's hand tight. "Then you can rest. You deserve a good rest, mom. I'll watch over Adalia. I'll watch over all of them, I promise."

 

“I know you will, Darling.” Catherine squeezed her hand back, “I’ve always known you will, you’ve always looked out for them. You inherited strength from both your father and I, and courage I never thought I’d see displayed.”

 

Rowena leaned down and kissed Catherine's forehead. "Thank you. I love you so much. You are the best mother and role model I could have ever asked for. I'm going to miss you, mom. More than I can tell you. But I know you're in pain, and I know I can't ask you to stay." Tears rolled down her face now as she looked down at her mother. "But- I want you to stay." Her voice cracked now as she couldn't stop the onslaught of tears.

 

“I want to stay too, Darling.” Catherine offered a small, weak smile, wrapping her arm around Rowena gently. “I wish I could.”

 

 

---

 

 

Despite her illness progressing significantly, the Petran Queen held onto her stubbornness. She wrapped herself in a quilt and made her way out to the gardens atop the Vallagne palace to write a letter to her eldest son.

 

“Aurelius,

 

I know that I’ve not had the ability to come visit you recently, and that your business is keeping you busy. Frankly, I’ve been a coward. In multiple ways, really, and I figure that I may as well outline and be honest with them. For one, I’ve not told you how much worse this has gotten. I fear that I won’t live to see any of my children achieve their dreams, but I want you to know from my own hand at least that I am, and always will be, so proud of you and the life you’ve chosen for yourself.

 

I hope that you have found what you’re looking for, and I know that you will do well. You always have. No matter what you do, when, or where I am, I will always be proud and love you. Whether it be from my own place here in Vallagne, or aside your Grandparents when I am gone, know that I will always be there for you.

 

Make the world your own, my son. Tame the wind, sail the rapids, and become who you wish to be. You can do it, you’ve always had it in you.

 

Love,

Mom”
 

 

---

 

 

Eleanor had vowed to stay close to Catherine ever since she fell ill. Taking it upon herself personally to look after their mother. The two would sit in her room, wrapped in blankets and sipping tea, until a coughing fit would overtake Catherine and Eleanor would scurry off to fetch medicine, or one of the medics should it be too severe. 

 

Catherine would teach her daughter how to play cards, and show her different trinkets that she had acquired, explaining the stories behind all of them. Pointing out the windows in different directions, the tales of where Veletzian raiders had appeared from would be woven, and descriptions of the puffs of smoke that would appear over the horizon.

 

The two stayed together for the majority of the later end of Catherine’s life, holed up and doing their best to just exist as comfortably as they could, for as long as Catherine still had. No moment wasted, for as long as they were still together, it would be cherished. 

 

 

---

 

 

Catherine shuffled over in her bed, making room for her smallest and youngest child, patting the spot next to her. “Come here, Alia, let's have a chat.” She lifted her sleeve to cough into it.

 

As her mother coughed, the heiress’s expression twisted into concern. But nonetheless, she climbed onto her mother’s bed and sat next to the ailing Queen. “Is everything alright, Mama?” Adalia asked with a shake in her voice, watching her mother closely.

 

"Of course, of course it is, my dear." Catherine would give a soft, but slightly warning look as if to say to not fret over her. "I just figured there's no time like the present to share some advice." She wrapped her arms around her youngest, pulling her close. "You know you can always ask others for help, right? Don't be like me, don't think you need to carry it all."
 

“I try my best-“ The young girl started as she wrapped her arms around her mother in turn. “But it’s hard to ask for help sometimes. Sometimes… sometimes I think people will judge me for it.” When she spoke, it was clear Adalia was choosing her words carefully. A practice the young girl had grown used to. “What if there’s something no one can help with?”

 

"Then you simply find someone to lean on. People's help isn't always about them having the answers either, Alia, sometimes it's about searching for the answers together." Catherine pursed her lips slightly in oddly fond thought, "and Dear, judgement doesn't matter, as long as you've tried your best. There are many out there that will sit in their reading nooks and judge you simply for existing, while they do nothing but whine." Catherine would begin to fuss with Adalia's ginger locks, taming loose ones behind her ears. "There is no shame in asking for help, only refusing it when you need it."

 

Adalia’s eyes fell closed with a contented sigh as her mother began to attempt to fix her wild hair. “…I guess you’re right. I’d rather have people know I’m capable of wanting and needing help than assuming I can do it all myself and never offer.” She’d pause then in thought, opening her eyes the slightest bit. “Mama? Is it… terrifying?”

 

"Every day. But the thing about monsters, Alia, is the more you face them, and the more you see them, the less scary they become." She returned her arm to being around Adalia, squeezing affectionately. "I didn't want you to be so young, like me. But things rarely go exactly to plan. You'll lean on your siblings, right? I didn't really get that, and they all love you and want to look out for you."

 

The princess nodded then, giving her mother a squeeze in return as her eyes began to sting with tears. “I will. I promise. I’ll face any monster, and I’ll ask them for help. I’ll do it all for you, Mama. I promise.” And for the moment, she simply held on tight as if the Queen in her arms would simply slip away if she let go. “Everything I do is for you, and Papa, and the others. Even when- even when you’re…” She’d choke up for just a moment. “That won’t change. Ever.”

 

"I know, you'll do wonderfully, Alia. I'll always be there for you, even when I'm not here." She kissed the top of Adalia's head. "Always."

 

 

---

 

 

 

When Catherine heard the explosion from the throne room, she pushed the blankets off and stood. Flicking open a magic item, her night clothes were replaced with armour, and she stalked from the room towards the chaos below. “BRING ME YOUR QUEEN, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH HER!” She heard the assailants bellow as she slammed open the final door between herself and the brutes. When she passed through, the room was filled with smoke and her youngest daughter and heir, Adalia, was chained. 

 

“PUT DOWN MY DAUGHTER, AND MAYBE WE CAN ******* TALK!” She bellowed, stepping out into the room with fury into her eyes. The Queen of the Petra had known hatred and anger before, but nothing could compare to the rage of a mother whose child is threatened.

 

“Send forth the Queen, Alone. My men shall let her pass, I seek only to speak with her. But know if you attack, your forces will be crushed and I shall turn this city into a wasteland.” The leader declared, the room holding their breath aside from a lone arrow that had been let loose.

 

“I do not speak to bandits. Duel me, Fiend.” Catherine coughed into her hand in an attempt to muffle the effect her sickness has had on her.

 

“Come forth then, Duel me.” he spoke again, “Oh and a reminder, in case anyone else tries to come through there.” Rowena, Catherine’s eldest daughter, was slammed against the cold stone wall, crumpling to the floor before being dragged back towards the Heartlander group.

 

Catherine grabbed her husband's arm, “You get Rowena, I’ll get Alia.” She raised her voice again towards the leader, “The terms, first. To the death. If you lose, all of your men leave or surrender, immediately.” August nodded to Catherine as the two moved forwards together, him veering off towards Rowena.

 

“Mama no!” Adalia cried from her place on the dais next to the leader, tears streaming down her cheeks.

 

“To the death, I like the way you think. If I win, your crown is mine.” The chains holding Adalia tightened, the leader cackling as he drew his ashy falchion.

 

“Maiores in septem coelum, custodi filiam meam tutum.” Catherine spoke a phrase in flexio, a black bladed sword materialising into her hand. “And Adalia goes free.” She stepped forth, preparing for her duel.

 

 

“Would be a shame to let you have all the fun, now wouldn’t it?” The leader snapped his fingers as his soldiers charged past her, going to attack the gathered Heartlanders.

 

Catherine narrowed her eyes to the leader as he ordered an assault on her people despite her challenge, “Then let's get this over with so your lackeys can get out of my nation.” 

 

A chain erupted forwards towards Catherine’s chest, “My nation, you mean.”

 

“If you want it, come ******* get it.” She dodged to the right, tapping a spot on the hilt of her sword as it engulfed itself in fire.

 

 

“Mama, please…” Adalia continued to weep from her spot trapped up on the dais, watching intently. The sounds of the battle in the main room of the palace barely reaching the two near the leader of the assault.

 

The leader swung himself down, swinging towards Catherine as she ducked down, her blade reaching towards the back of his knees. The two grappled around each other, the leader beginning to push the ailing Queen against the benches of her throne room. Catherine, raising her sword between them, positioned her blade to sink into his abdomen as he pushed.

 

“Push to your Queen, Heartlanders! Fight for her as she has fought for you before!” August, Catherine’s husband called, in a frantic hope to help his friend.

 

Her sword would sink into the leader, blood beginning to spurt out and run down her hands. While she focused on her action, she missed as he had moved to drive his sword into her side where the Queen's blood ran out in turn, dripping out onto the carpet.

 

 

“NO!” Adalia screamed.

 

“To the Queen, Alteon!” Arathor urged his knight forth.

 

“Forward brothers, to the Queen!” Captain Felix von Theonus ordered.

 

The Heartlanders would slay the remaining men, while Catherine pulled her sword from the stomach of the Leader, thrusting it forwards towards his neck with a final roar of frustration.

 

Catherine sunk to the ground, one hand grasping at her injured side while the other covered her mouth during a coughing fit that brought up more blood than ever before.

 

 

“No, no… Mama, Please!” Adalia ran towards her mother from the dais as she was finally released by the chains.

 

“It’s alright, Alia, I’m alright.” She began to cough again, attempting to soothe her daughter.

 

“No, no no NO!” Rowena screamed, her broken and battered body fighting as she knelt next to her sister and mother.

 

Aurelius ran over, joining his siblings and parents.

 

She wrapped her arms around her eldest and youngest daughters, shuddering.

 

“Mama, please no.” Adalia ignored Arathor trying to get the girls to move back and give Catherine space. Catherine wanted them closer.

 

Rowena wrapped her arms around her sister more tightly.

 

Frantzisko, the Chancellor of the Heartlands and Cardinal of the Canonist church approached quickly, “The rites, let us ensure safe passage to Paradise.”

 

“You promised, mama, you promised.” Adalia wept desperately, hoping that a promise would somehow keep her mother with her.

 

“It’s okay, it’s okay to let go. I’ll keep my promise.” Rowena whispered to Catherine, accepting the fate that she knew for months now was going to befall them.

 

“I’ll always be with you. That dear, I promised.” Catherine attempted to soothe, trying to remind her youngest that she would always be with her.

 

“Please, you can’t go,” Adalia spoke desperately.

 

Catherine gave a nod to Frantzisko to give the rites

 

“All must go -  the rites are private. To be only with the Lord and the Queen, in the Holiness of final confession. If all here may respect it.” The Cardinal began to tell the crowd to leave, but was stopped by Catherine.

 

“I hide nothing, they may hear.” She had felt alone too much already, she refused to die alone as well, a room full of people that loved her, that’s what she wanted now.

 

Her husband knelt down, whispering to her. “It’ll be okay, Cat. As you were the Protector of Dogs, I shall protect all that you strived to build. Adalia shall attain her right, and these Heartlanders shall endure, your name etched into its legend.”

 

“Very well,” The Cardinal said, continuing with the rites. “Everlasting lord, thy dust and dirt brought us to Creation, and brought us breath, and brought us tears that flow in the sight of ye. In this dust we find thy presence, and to it we return, to it we are guided to the Virtuous path of Paradise, to sweet ruining everlasting, to the embrace of eternal love."

 

“I love you, mom.” Rowena, hugging her sister.

 

“I love you, I love you, please… please don’t go.” Adalia begged one last time.

 

Catherine reached up to her brow, pulling her crown from her head and placing it on top Adalia’s head. “I love you, my dear. Long live the Queen.”

 

“Be baptised one final time, so rebirth finds you not on this earth yet, but in Heaven. May he lift up His face unto you, and give you peace.”

 

A chorus of voices would echo throughout the battered hall.

 

Long live the Queen.

 

 

---

 

 

Fate be not kind,

Time not forgiving.

 

The first faces that greeted Catherine in the seven skies were echoes of memories and unfulfillable promises.

 

Life is not owed,

Death never ceasing.

 

Ghosts of portraits In her halls and names of a promised heir on old, outdated documents.

 

Waste not your childhood,

For mine never stayed.

 

Her parents were the first to welcome her to the skies, for her mother, Winifred, it was the first time she had ever met Catherine, for Adrian, her father, the first time seeing her past the age of four.

 

Give up not your dreams,

For mine never came.

 

It was debatable if Catherine had truly lived at all, or if her life had ended alongside theirs and her fate was sealed.

 

Waste not your downtime,

For I could never rest.

 

Perhaps she would be more alive in death than during her reign, as she was finally free of duty and expectation.

 

 

---

 

Spoiler

I would like to thank everyone that was along for this amazing, wild, and long ride with me. The community that we built together was one that I cherish and am so glad that I got to be part of making and building. I  have far too many people to thank, and I’m only remembering to write the OOC part of this at the end of the event, so it’s a bit rushed, so I’m only going to get three main groups so I can post this right away like I wanted to.

 

To Tilly and Andrewtech,

 

Thank you so much for trusting me with your nation, I hope that I didn’t disappoint you.

 

To Deets, and the Theonus group,

 

Genuinely, Petra would not still exist without you, and I wouldn’t have ever wanted to do this without you. You guys were far more the backbone of this project than I ever was, and I owe you all so much.

 

To Moth and Hom,

You two will do great. You are both two of the kindest people I have ever met on this server. I hope that NLship doesn’t try to take that away from you.

[Destructokeith 711]

It takes some time for news to reach Artel, but when it does the old flame haired knight stops dead in his tracks, the ore he carried in his hands falls to the ground, breaking the stones they hit, next comes the man as he falls to his knees, and stares forward into nothing, the man had fought to protect her for so long and now he had failed, he hadn't even been with her at the end, tears trail down his face as he remains there for hours, the crushing weight of having outlived the little queen took a toll on the old man

 

Spoiler

Huge thanks to Zaerie for trusting me to end the story of the War Queen, it was an honor o7

Elsewhere....

Artair hears the explosion and watches the fight from the nearby mountain, the boy kicking his feet as he doesnt understand the gravity of what has happened 

[Petsch2k 1249]

Petsch II would shed a tear saluting towards the skies. "May you rest in peace, you lead your people well."

[Cryptic 66]

Ser Alteon of Garenbrig blamed himself for this blunder, if only he ran fast enough. "May the Flame guide you, Queen Catherine."

Edited May 30 by Cryptic

[TaytoTot 1300]

Dame Monika knelt down next to Atticus as she witnessed the Queen take her last breath. Her gauntlet firmly patted his shoulder, offering him her comforts in any way she had known how. "Long live the Queen,"

[carebear 641]

Princess Rowena sat in shock as she cradled her mother's body. This didn't feel real. None of this felt real. The screams of her sister only made her soul hurt more. All that mattered to her now was keeping her little sister, Adalia, safe. In the rush after her mother's death, Rowena felt like she was floating outside her body. She comforted her little sister who she was supposed to keep safe, who was too young to be going through all this. In that moment, Rowena vowed to never leave her sister's side, to always support and protect her little sister. No matter what.

 

Rowena watched over Lia that night, waiting for the nightmares that she knew would come. She looked out the window, whispering something to herself. The phrase that all had repeated for the little Queen.

 

"Long Live the Queen."

[Deets 719]

The life of August of Abrana had been thus far intertwined with that of the now deceased Catherine. He often remembered their excursions as children, and the fears the young heir-apparent had voiced at the mantle she was to assume in time. Time passed, his own amongst the free companies which roamed about the continent, whilst Catherine had prepared herself to rule the then Commonwealth. Upon his return years later, the two's bond had been rekindled, and his life intertwined with her own anew. The two had never been the most conventional of royals, though such never bothered August. Above all, he had come to love Catherine for the unrelenting duty and sacrifice she had shown to their homeland. Any with a will weaker than her own would have faltered, sending the realm once more into the chaos and violence which followed. Anyone weaker would have faltered with the challenge that laid ahead. Not Catherine, however. She had been the realm's steward for near three decades, and in that time seen it reach new heights, ones hard-fought that would not be lost. As he stood before the Garmont Throne, Catherine's body lifeless before the host of Heartlanders who had fought as her side, many for decades, he knew then that life would go on. If only because of what Catherine had done, all of it. She had been what the Petra had needed, and she had given her all for its continued success. He would not let her life's work to go waste.

 

"Your work will not be undone, Catherine. These lands shall prosper anew through the rule of Adalia, that I promise you."

[beetle 2905]

Marisol couldn’t breathe or speak, as guilt had washed over. Perhaps, if she was at home, she would’ve noticed the undead army, alerted them in time. Or maybe if she hadn’t left to visit her relatives in the Northern kingdom, she would’ve treated her in time. Right?

 

The blame, the guilt, it wouldn’t leave. 

She could’ve done more for Queen Catherine, for her family, for the Petra as she did for her.

The retired Hyspian Knight cried that night, lighting a candle, praying to her Gods. She held her children and husband close, hoping it wasn’t the last.

 

@Phersades @annanicole__ @Greehn

[cadazio 384]

The Crab's office is quiet, the monks sent to their quarters for the night. Inexplicably, by midnight, a tolling is heard a total of seven times from the Archbishop's Cathedral - and then go quiet. The morning after, no other culprit is found but the aged Cardinal laid asleep beside the bell.

Edited May 30 by cadazio

[DahStalker 2986]

The aged elfess felt no genuine loss for that beloved Queen, brows knit with pity and remorse for the agony around her, however. "Khivi, you shall search out that newfound Queen and befriend her. She is your age." Lhoris clarified, glancing to a portrait of Saint James II nearby with pursing lips. She swore a promise decades ago and would ensure to maintain it through her daughter if not herself directly. "She has lost her mother. She shall need a friend, Khivi. A true one-- you've nothing to gain from her, only friendship." 
 

Spoiler

@Vic

 

[TN_TURKEY 137]

Prince Arathor of Númenost stands silently in the palace corridors. He listens as the Heartlander royals converse, and his own voice does come from his mouth as he offers advice, condolences, and affirmations. But it's all a bit numb. His mind is aflame, aflame as he ponders what is to come. What will become of this fine Kingdom? What will become of the girl he's sworn to mentor, crown upon her head?

"Whatever is to come." He affirms to himself in silence, "I will do what I can for them. For the lass."

[SimplySeo 5604]

Ser Uther outlives yet another Heartlander monarch. "I was born in the reign of Philip II you know- My sense of time is beginning to wear thin." He said to Ser Alwyn Glennmaer as the pair sat beneath a tree, smoking. @Josh3738

 

"God- Last time I saw the woman she was a child- I'll pray for the poor girl."

[JudgeTrudy 102]

Theodore Elwood was not a particularly emotional man. He'd faced monsters and run to face Darkspawn without much of a break afterward. He did not find much relief in crying, and he had grown up in such traditional ways as not to show much emotion in public...

To observe Catherine's last moments, though....to help carry her to the church afterward...It was enough to push him over the edge. After helping a procession carry her body to the Church in Vallagne, he'd silently weep some for a few moments. For Catherine, but also for her children and husband, her grandmother, and for all others who were so close to her. Even without knowing her particularly well, Theodore felt a true sense of loss as he stared upon her casket.

 

But then, after several moments that each felt like an eternity, Theo smiled. Through the grief, he could not help but recall the first time they had a genuine conversation. It had been over a game of Tic Tac Toe in the Fairweather Pup. Theodore lost on purpose - he had been so intimidated by royalty still. He recalled Catherine's will to fight a proper game, though. And he recalled her willingness to help him, a poor peasant boy from the outskirts of Petra, with personal matters. He could never know how much she really cared, but the sentiment was enough to earn undying loyalty from there on.

 

After sharing memories with the rest of the procession, murmuring his own prayers for the departed, and wiping his tears, he'd return home. In the silence of Faubourg, Theodore would light a handful of candles in his home. He would place one in particular upon a window sill. Before bed, his only nightly prayer would be for peace and comfort for the mourning family, and one final utterance in privacy with God: "May she find true peace and happiness in Paradise."

Edited May 30 by JudgeTrudy
Fixing some grammar and changing up the color for easier reading.

[ToodIes 1483]

The Grand Magister gives the order. The blue fires of Hohkmat burn red that night, in honor of the Petran Queen. 

 

In private, Faeryel reflects. The child with a heavy crown on her head that she’d followed into battle. The wedding in the burnt church. She did not speak to Catherine, but she did not suppose her short life was a happy one. 

 

Sadness stabs into her like a cold knife in the back. There is a Queen she knows. “Ach. Poor Renilde..”

[Vic 496]

Eléanor paced around her bedroom for hours following the news. Quietly, holding a book that once belonged to the deceased Queen, she spoke with no tears left:

 

"Long live the queen. Goodbye, Mama.”