The Tears of the Queen

         She was crying again, I thought with annoyance born of long suffering this very same thing. All she ever did was cry, cry, cry, like there was nothing about life that was worth smiling about, or even at least not crying about. Her moans, groans, wails, quails, cries and general self-pitying sounds always rang about these halls.

         A particularly ardent moan shattered my mental rant and I huffed in irritation. Stupid woman, stupid, stupid, stupid, worthless, dumb, annoying, long-winded, insufferable, stupid woman. Why couldn't she just be silent? Why must she continue with that infernal, endless noise?

         It certainly wasn't as if she had no choice. She could easily have chosen to gotten up and done something rather than forever flooding the whole place with her arduous tears of self-pity. But no, she instead chose to wander these barren halls filling this already unpleasant place with her incessant noise. She was a queen, my ruler, she shouldn't be so weak, it was unacceptable, certainly unforgivable.

         Oh at first it had been fine, I had even shared in some of her heart-rending mourning, pitied her even as she pitied herself. I had thought things would change, I had thought things would improve, that she would use that indomitable will to claw her way out of the dark pit to which she'd been cast. I had waited, and waited, for how long I didn't know, but it had been long enough surely?

         I turned and marched through the halls, yes, it had been long enough. I couldn't stand it any longer, this constant wailing and blubbering. I wanted it ended, yes, I needed it to end, I had to put a stop to this. I sped up, nearly euphoric in the joyous knowledge that I had finally been spurred to action. I was running now, speeding through the halls as fast as I could toward that noise I reviled above all else. She shouldn't be queen anymore, she shouldn't be in charge. She didn't deserve it, and so I would relieve her of it.

         I turned corner after damp, dark corner, the corrosion and the dirt blurring together into a painting that only fueled my crazed anger. I was flying now, tearing up ground with speed I had never possessed. Always crying, ha, I would take action, I would take over, and then everything would change. Once I became queen everything would be different. These somber walls that had once been so fine would be hung with bright banners and painted with rick colors once again. Again the music would play, again the numbers would flow, the creatures would dance and my sisters would be released so that once again our glorious debates could sound in the halls.

         I gave a high screech of laughter as I swung around the final corner, drowning out my hated queen's crying for a second as I came into the room where she dwelt. I stopped as I came upon her, taking in her gaunt, wasted form and once again feeling the persistent pull of pity tug on me. However I shook off it's pawing hands and began walking forward, even as her soft moans and wails echoed about me in a mocking cacophony of tones.

         As I came to a stop before her she raised her head and I stared at her hateful face, pale from waste, eyes red from tears and dirty from neglect. She sniveled as she peered at me from through her swollen eyes, wasted, cloudy eyes, eyes that had once been so sharp as to cow all they fell upon. Her quivering chin, a chin that had once been forever set in a mulish line that allowed all those who saw it to know the extent of her will. And on the top of her dirty, dull head sat that brilliant crown, not rusted nor dulled even with her knowing neglect.

         I stared at her, to angry and torn to move for but a moment, then I spoke to her, as I had not for a long time, "You've cried to long, sat around here not trying and uncaring to the trouble you've caused. All of the people you've wounded cannot be appeased nor all of the sins you've committed be erased not even if you were to wallow in them for the rest of your life."

         She looked upon me with the tired, bitter look that always rested on her features her brow furrowed even as her quivering chin and watering eyes broke yet again into full blown sobs, "Do you think I don't know that?" she cried piteously, "Do you think I don't know of the predicament I've placed myself in, all of us in? How dare you speak to me such a way, as if it were so easy to be different. What do you know of my suffering? What do you know of my tears and my pain?"

         My anger burned and rose to meet her self-pitying defenses and bitter cries, the hateful creature. "Then give up if you like. I will keep fighting. Give me the crown, your rule has long ended anyway, as soon as you shed your first tear it had. We need strength now, uncaring, dogged determination. Step aside, sister, it's time for you to leave."

         She reached up and grasped the crown on her head as if she thought simply my words might make it fall from her dingy hair. "I think not! I am justified in my actions! Fighting, trying, it's all useless! Everything is so useless! Someone will come to save me one day. Until then I will dwell in this misery for there is nothing else I can do, and because I am queen, you will all dwell with me."

         I lifted my chin and glared down at her, hatred such as I'd rarely felt infusing my veins with fire and beating war drums within my ears. "Never. Enough, this is enough. If you will not step up to fight, and you will not step down to die, then I will take hold of you myself and cast you from this place."

         And then we fought, even as I screamed my rage at her and she sobbed her self-pity in that degrading manner. We fought as we had done so many times before. However, though we were both so strong, her tears quelched the inferno of my anger every time. Bruised, broken and beaten I lay on the floor unable to summon the will to rise as I had so many times before. No golden crown adorned my head.

         I opened my eyes, and rose from my bed, picking my way through the dark room littered with things I could not find the desire to put away. I peered into the mirror at those wasted, cloudy eyes, void of any sharpness or fire. I  gave a shaky sigh, somewhere in the unknown plain between a laugh and a sob. I stared at the trails of salty wet streaming down my dull cheeks. Hateful...

She was crying again.