let beauty come out of ashes

Lost

Two eyes. Ocean blue, warm in tone but a hidden coolness beneath. Quizzical, always casting a questioning and inquisitive gaze. Beautiful. They shone brighter than any gem in Icelandia ever could. Possibly the most striking part of Harper, however, was her smile. It was gentle and inviting, practically infectious. Her complexion was fair, like her rule, and glowed brighter than Zara's stone around her neck. Harper's mere presence demanded respect. With her indigo blue hair billowing below her shoulders, she stood tall and proud, every movement had intent and purpose. Controlled.

Her throne room was at the centre of the chateau and included a large stage at the back with her silver toned throne being the main attraction. Stain glass windows gazed down upon the room, the ocean light filtering through and casting a wave-like filter over the room. The palace itself shimmered, millions upon millions of carefully cut bespoke diamonds placed into intricately carved marble pillars. Her great grandfather had built it from what was left of the original Icelandia Chateau after the War of the Seven Oceans. With five floors, three offices, six bedrooms, two kitchens, five bathrooms and an apartment on the top floor, it was the largest building in the kingdom. Her kingdom.

It used to be theirs. Harper's delicate fingers ran over the pendant on her throat. She could feel the energy thrum from the stone. Zara's energy.

A resounding knock on the door echoed around the palace's main chamber, bringing the Queen's attention to a well-dressed male. He held a large silver trident in his hand, his uniform of royal blue adorning his body. Dropping to one knee, he bowed his head before her.

"Lord Angelus is waiting in meeting room three your Majesty." He said, his voice deep and low. "He brought the Committee with him."

Harper's expression hardened, blue eyes aglow. The Gemine were a gentle people with no violent intentions. Or at least they weren't. "Thank you, Thomas. It's difficult to believe it is accords day already."

"It is a long time coming, your Majesty." Thomas replied. He rose from his kneeling position and turned on his heel towards the large double doors. Harper stood and followed suit, her emerald green cloak trailing after her. Zara once told her that green was her colour. A smile on her ethereal face and a loving glint in her eyes, she had slid a dark green comb into the blue bun atop Harper's head. "There. Now you look perfect." Zara had said, planting a light kiss on the Queen's cheek. Ever since then all the clothes Harper had made featured any shade of it in any way possible. Today it was a black, off the shoulder ball gown with a green velvet cloak flowing behind. Today it was accords day.

~

Around a rectangular oak table, six well-groomed Rakids, who all thought too highly of themselves, chortled to one another while the Queen took five minutes to collect herself outside the room. The last time she had been face to face with them, the ocean ground was awash with the blood of her people, her own skin stained crimson. The battle had lasted for over a week. Neither side could really say they were triumphant when the amount of casualties was too high to count; or when there was nothing they had been fighting for other than pride and greed. If Lord Angelus hadn't felt the need to try and invade Icelandia on grounds he had come up with, no one would have had to die.

Memories of the fight replayed in Harper's head, behind closed eyelids more of her people died, their screams and cries constantly ringing in her ears. At the forefront of her mind she saw a body drop. Silver hair splayed in a halo on the floor, pooling around a head like the rivers of blood flowing from pierced flesh. She nodded grimly at the guard next to her. The Gemine Queen clenched every muscle in her body, took a deep breath, and let go. The exhale propelled her forwards through the meeting room door and towards the head of the table. Every Rakid stood as she entered and sat down again once she was seated.

Before them all was a copy of the accords Lord Angelus had pulled together. The committee wasted no time into launching into the explanation and running through every item and article in it. Harper had zoned out. From the moment Lord Angelus had come to her with his proposal she'd made up her mind. She had no intention to sign it. What good would it do her or her people?

Ten minutes of Sir Domeniscus blathering on had passed before Harper raised her hand to silence him. He took it as his cue to sit down, clearing his throat as he did so. Harper directed her gaze towards every single individual at the table. She knew what they wanted. They wanted to take her money and status from her to leave her powerless and defenceless towards them. It was never about peace or amends. With a swift flick of her right hand, every piece of paper spiralled into the air and rained back down around them.

"There will be no signing today."

Lord Angelus, Sir Domeniscus, Sir Barten and Sir Hammond exploded into an angered frenzy, scrambling to pick up what they could. Harper hid her smile behind a manicured hand as she watched.

"This is ridiculous woman! What are you thinking? You can not just disregard us." Sir Barten was red in the face, his forehead scrunched.

Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously telling me what I can't do? You are telling me?" Incredulous, Harper slammed her hands down hard on the table, the sound of her wedding band colliding with the wood caused a harsh metallic ring. "You are the ones who invaded my kingdom. You are the ones who started this whole fucking thing. You are the ones who destroyed millions of our people's homes and lives. You are the ones who slaughtered so many innocent people." Harper shook with rage and pain. Everything came crashing back down and hit her all at once. Fire burned through her veins and erupted out of her palms. Flames consumed the table, sending the men at it careening backwards in surprise and fear.

"YOU KILLED MY WIFE!" The red stone on her necklace exploded, tendrils of ferocious energy reached for the Rakids. Each tendril found their target and, without hesitation, ploughed through torsos and limbs and heads, skewering them like kebab meat. Fountains of blood spurted upwards and left crimson stains on the baby blue ceiling. Curdled screams were quickly silenced as the Rakid's vocal cords were severed. Glassy eyes stared blankly at the Queen's retreating back, their pleads eternally frozen and unheard. Bodies still twitched and jerked as the Queen glided through the destruction around her, the tendrils slowly retracting back into the gem. Without a backwards glance, Harper flung open the door. "Send someone to clean that up." She said to the guard outside.

A painting of Zara and her hung on the wall opposite, surveying the carnage inside the meeting room. In it, the two Queens were depicted beneath a blanket of circling fish, leant against a slab of rock and entwined in a small coral reef. Zara's silver hair hung loosely around her scarred shoulders, years of labour etched into her skin. From a young age, Harper had been advised to want to marry someone rich with a strong and dependable family behind them. However, her father pushed for her to marry for love. Her mother had died when Harper was 80, too young to lose someone that important. So when a tough, rough round the edges worker showed up at the chateau to renovate one of the offices, Harper fell in love almost instantaneously.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she reached towards the painting, softly tracing each detail in her wife's face. Each line, each feature, each freckle. Underneath the framed canvas, carved into a silver plaque, was Zara's favourite quote that she recited on their wedding day , to remind them both it was worth it:

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."