The Distant Queen

by Terry Volkirch

This story is mainly about a romance between two young women who are from two different worlds. It's a fantasy story with some adventure but there are no mythical creatures and there isn't a lot of magic. It's really a sweet and tender romantic comedy with a mostly happy ending.

Author's note: This story starts slowly. It takes several chapters to create the setting and background. The romance just barely begins in chapter 4 and doesn't start to blossom until chapter 6. Please be patient. Please? :)

Chapter 1

A small, ugly man by the name of Farrott glared down at the hated enemy from his magically camouflaged blind. Just a little closer and he'd rid the land of that bitch queen, the one with a magic talent that sent men running for their lives.

His sole talent was feared well enough too, but for different reasons. He didn't really harm people. Instead, his victims just disappeared. Without moving from where they stood, they looked like they were falling down a hole, getting smaller and smaller until they were too far away to see. No one knew where they went but it must be far away because as of yet, none have ever returned.

The little man's power was quite disconcerting, and fear eventually led to his banishment. Now he hoped to get back on his kingdom's good side by using his magic to eliminate the menace below him. She just needed to get within his range.

It took him several weeks to scout out the area and find some pattern to the queen's movement. She didn't come out to the forest often, but when she did, she nearly always settled very near the tree where he perched, and more importantly, she came alone, making his escape a certainty.

It was a dull waiting game, made all the more unpleasant by the frequent whining of his recently acquired companion, the one responsible for the camouflaged blind in which he crouched. It wouldn't really be right to call the lad a companion though. Young Bradley was more like a hostage. After discovering the boy's talent, Farrott threatened to use his magic on the boy's family so they sadly let their son go. They had to be satisfied by the promise that Bradley would be returned when the task at hand was finished.

Too bad it wasn't that easy. The headstrong boy resisted all efforts to control him. He didn't respect threats. He only understood action, like a hard swat to his bottom. Unfortunately, physical punishment had limited success, and often led to loud temper tantrums that would make the man's task impossible.

So it was that after several rotations of the sky, the determined man finally discovered a way to control the boy. He got lucky really. Bradley insisted on bringing his filthy toy dog, Mr. Pooper, crying rivers until Farrott gave in. As the odd pair traveled together, the ugly man gradually came to hate the toy. He'd think of various ways to destroy it to pass the time, and after enduring the boy's behavior for far too long, he eventually blurted out one particularly gruesome method of doing away with it.

Slapping a hand over his mouth, the man expected the boy to be horrified, but instead, the boy surprised him. Threatening the toy dog turned into a silly game that greatly amused Bradley. He was only 6 cycles old after all. He'd pout and speak soothingly to the toy, promising he'd protect it. Then the annoying little runt would giggle, sounding very much like a scolding tree rat. It sent shivers down the man's spine, but at least it softened the boy enough so he'd do what was asked of him for awhile. Hopefully, the brat would behave long enough to accomplish the mission.

'I must be insane', Farrott moaned to himself. 'Depending on a young boy with the manners of a goblin has got to be the most idiotic thing I've ever done. Am I really that desperate?' After months of struggling for a living, the answer was all too obvious so he quickly focused on other things.

The boy had done his part, making the wooden structure blend in perfectly with the trunk and lower branches of a large tree. His power didn't work on people or animals but it worked well enough on objects, even those as large as the blind. As long as he kept quiet, there was no chance of detection.

The blind was needed to give Farrott enough time to use his magic talent. It took a significant amount of time to bring up enough power to send someone away, more time than he figured it'd take the queen to use her power on him if she saw him. There were additional constraints as well. He needed an unobstructed view and had to keep the target in range for the duration of his power up, so using his magic in the forest would've been pure folly without camouflage.

The desperate man turned his attention back to the queen, willing her to come closer, but still she stayed well out of range. It appeared as though she was looking for a flower or herb. She'd occasionally bend down and slowly brush her hand along the ground, pouting and moving on when she came up empty-handed.

Farrott sweat profusely, his nerves shot. The longer they played this game, the more likely he'd lose everything he held dear. He could tell that the boy wouldn't keep quiet much longer. The brat held Mr. Pooper in both hands and bounced the disgusting thing up and down on his lap. That activity wasn't a good sign. It was almost always followed by incessant yelping that was supposed to imitate a barking dog.

"Ruff!" Bradley suddenly yelped. "Ruff! Ruff!"

The ugly little man nearly wet himself.

"Hush, Child!" he hissed, but it did no good. Instead of stopping, the boy let loose with a long series of loud yelping barks, treating the man's command as yet another game.

Farrott turned and looked down at the queen. He expected the worst but was amazed when he saw she wore a curious expression. She wasn't a fool. She knew it couldn't be a real dog she heard, but she must have recognized the source to be a young child, someone who wouldn't pose a threat.

He rubbed his hands together in wicked glee as the queen stepped into range. He silently prepared his magic and directed it at her, scoring a direct hit. She yelped herself then, and slowly disappeared into whatever realm he sent his victims. His work was done. The land was free of her at last!

"Come on, Boy," he said, smiling for the first time in weeks. "It's time to get you home."

The man wanted people to think he kept his promises, but it was only pure selfishness that drove him to take Bradley home. If he kept this promise, he believed himself to be even more likely to be accepted back into his kingdom.

With a light step and horribly garbled whistling, the man made his way back to the boy's family, and the first step on his road to fame. Not only would he be taken back, he'd be a hero. That is, he would if anyone believed him. He didn't realize it could take a long time to confirm the queen's absence and his role in it. It also didn't occur to him that keeping his promise to bring back the boy didn't mean much since he'd kidnapped Bradley in the first place. Farrott wasn't all that bright, but that's another story.

* * *

Early morning light filtered into Queen Gabrielle's modest bedchambers, slowly waking her. She moaned a few times and began the laborious process of getting up. It took forever just to find the energy to roll out of bed, and everyone knew enough to leave her be until she had her hot cocoa.

The tall woman stretched in her standard size bed, still able to reach out over the headboard, while at the same time, her toes peeked out from under the short covers near the foot of the bed. Her two handmaidens were horrified when they first saw the spectacle. They begged her to be allowed to have a larger bed made, but she declined. She liked reaching out beyond normal limits. It made a nice metaphor for her style of governing.

While the queen was the final authority on matters in her queendom, she delegated most of the work. Appointed officers analyzed situations and provided her with options. Ambassadors negotiated with neighboring lands. The queen just managed it all and used her free time thinking of creative solutions to problems that had yet to happen. Her system had worked well so far.

The visionary work was possible thanks to Muriel, an old woman with the far-sight magical talent. Glimpses of the future turned out hazy more often than not but enough information came through to be useful. Some visions concerned events that would happen within a single rotation of the sky, while others could only be many cycles away. It was tricky work but satisfying, and rewarding.

Gabrielle had dressed in a simple robe and moved to the sitting room. She sat in her favorite padded leather chair, sipping her second cup of cocoa when Muriel arrived.

"Greetings," the old woman said. "How are you this morning?"

"You know very well how I am," grumbled the queen.

"Yes, I see it's at least a two cup day," Muriel said, seeing an empty cup on the small table next to the chair. "Are there plans for a third?"

"Not as long as you cover for me while I sneak out for a walk," Gabrielle said with a pleading look.

"I wish you wouldn't go out alone," Muriel frowned. "It's not safe, even with your magic and skill with the sword."

"I'll be fine, but I'll wear my battle leathers just in case. Okay?"

"Like I could stop you anyway," Muriel sighed.

Gabrielle jumped up to give her friend a hug and trotted off to change.

The thin and supple leather outfit she wore to battle was perfect in all respects, even appearance. The top had a forest green bodice with long brown sleeves, and the trousers matched the sleeves in color. It complemented the queen's long brown hair and green eyes as well as providing camouflage in the forest when stealth was required. Thanks to yet another magic talent, the thin material was enhanced to resist all but the sharpest blades and strongest arms. Magic leathers simply offered the best protection in the queendom.

With her great size and strength, skill with a sword and leather armor, Gabrielle made a great warrior. Her battle skill also made her a popular choice for queen, since queens were selected rather than born to the role. But it was her unusual and unique magic talent that was the deciding factor in her becoming queen. She could do the unthinkable. She could change men into women.

Her talent was the ultimate weapon in battle. She changed men into women who suddenly found they could no longer fit in their armor or wield their heavy swords. It effectively ended any melee and demoralized those men who remained outside of her range. She made a perfect warrior queen.

In spite of her suitability though, the responsibility of her position could be taxing. That's where her coping mechanism came in. She released stress by getting away from it all. She escaped to the forest. All she had to do was get by her handmaidens, and that was never an easy task.

"Hello, my Queen," said the voice of Heloise from behind, startling the tall woman. "Going to the forest again?"

"I'm just going out to get some sword practice," the queen said, keeping her back to her blonde handmaiden.

"Lying doesn't suit you, my Queen," smirked the blonde.

"No more than questioning your queen suits you."

It was a common type of exchange between the two. Heloise often spoke her mind, and Gabrielle normally appreciated it. Today was a different matter, and the blonde realized she went too far. She knew the queen had been drinking much more hot cocoa than usual. Something was obviously bothering her.

"I'm sorry your Majesty. Here ...," the handmaiden said as she turned the tall woman around to face her. "Let me fix your gloves. They look a bit worn."

Heloise's talent allowed her to repair or renew most fabrics. She couldn't affect the magically enhanced leather, which didn't need help anyway, but she could help with the normal leather gloves that Gabrielle preferred. Magic gloves tended to be stiff, making it more difficult to grip a sword.

"Thank you," said the queen. "Now why don't you and Beth go out and do some shopping while I'm gone. I could use more cocoa."

"As you wish, my Queen," said the blonde, leaving Gabrielle to exit the castle through a secret passage.

The warrior woman sighed as she thought about her handmaidens. Not only were their personalities well-suited to hers, their magic talents were nice too. Heloise kept the royal wardrobe in good shape and Beth, the quiet one, could heat water for baths in a very short period of time.

Magic talents came in handy for the most part, with nearly everyone having a single talent that was specialized and limited. Some bakers could create hot fires within the confines of a small space, or could magically grind wheat into flour. Many tailors could cut cloth or thread by touching it with a finger, while most blacksmiths could create iron of unusual strength or easily bend it into any shape they could imagine. The queendom, and world, ran smoothly, all thanks to magic.

Then came the dark time.

A series of recent predictions disturbed those few who were privy to them. Thanks to the queen's strange magic talent of changing men into women, she and her peaceful little queendom had made a lot of enemies, especially male enemies. Now her past usage of her power threatened to come back to haunt her. She knew it was only a matter of time before there'd be trouble, and trouble there would be if the visions came true. Muriel predicted that the queendom would soon be without its queen. That would be disastrous.

As long as Queen Gabrielle lived, men would live in fear of her and her queendom. It was silly. She'd never used her power except in self-defense. That's how it always was, but you couldn't tell that to most men. Nearly all the men she'd met were unthinking, aggressive brutes who were obsessed with sex, so it was obvious they'd have trouble handling a gender change.

Some of the new women committed suicide. It was unfortunate but it happened. Gabrielle mourned for every one of them too, and gave them decent burials. Others went insane. That was awkward but they were well cared for because it was the right thing to do.

The majority of the queen's victims remained sane, and after a little speech telling them they were very likely to have unpleasant futures among men, they understandably gravitated towards the safety of the queendom. It made sense. Nearly all of the victims resented what had happened but what could they do? They continued honing their fighting skills -- since warriors and brawlers were virtually the only target for the queen -- and fought to protect their new home. Their gender changed but their lives weren't so different.

Not surprisingly, most citizens of the queendom were female. There were too few well-behaved men who felt secure enough to live near the queen, and that created more problems. The new women weren't much of a problem after they learned to care for themselves. The majority of them were attracted to women when they were men and their sexual preference didn't change, but a large percentage of the population were attracted to men. Those poor heterosexuals had to either try to compete with dozens of others for the attention of a man or go out and do some recruiting. They wouldn't move away permanently from the relative safety of the queendom. They just had to scratch a certain itch, possibly gain a child or two, and try to come back with a husband. It could be an awkward situation but at least population growth wasn't a problem. Sex and love would always persevere.

As the tall warrior woman made her way to the nearby forest, she thought of her two handmaidens and couldn't help but envy them. They made a cute couple. Then she sadly reflected on her own love life. It was nonexistent. She'd been too occupied by affairs of state to have an affair with another woman. Besides, she knew brief encounters in the night wouldn't satisfy her. She wanted someone to love.

Meeting people was never difficult as she went about her duties. The hard part was getting to know them personally. How could she find her perfect mate when she had so much work to do? It was all so vexing.

She'd just have to make time for more casual meetings if she had any hope of finding someone. If making time for Muriel and her crazy visions was possible, then so was finding a mate. The queen made a conscious decision then and there to be open to a relationship, dark visions or no dark visions. Then she looked up and laughed since it would be a little difficult meeting someone in her current location.

Her wandering usually brought her to a favorite large tree, but today, she deviated slightly and began looking for a four-leaf clover, hoping it'd bring her good luck. She felt like she could use a little luck.

The pensive woman moved from one clover patch to another, bending down to brush her hand along the ground and separate the clover stems a little. After a reasonable span of time, she found what she searched for and picked it. It was large and appeared to be perfectly symmetrical. It was a thing of beauty.

Just as she picked her lucky charm, she cocked her head. She heard what sounded like a child who pretended to be yelping like a dog. After determining the direction of the source, she moved to investigate, and that's when everything went horribly wrong.

The unmistakable chill of magic hit her as soon as she took a dozen steps in the direction of the yelping child. She cried out from the shock but it was too late to do anything except close her eyes and accept her fate. It seemed that the lucky charm wasn't so lucky, but she maintained a firm grip on it nonetheless.