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I would really like feedback, positive and negative. My hope is to submit this to Dragonlance Nexus, but I want this as best as I can get it before I do. Though, please note, due to some problems, all my color is now on one layer. *Sigh*
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The Queen Mother sat rigid before the window. Morning glow had steadily risen into a gentle blaze as it began its climb above the city in its dedication. The glinting that poured in did not hold happiness for the people of Qualinost. It was cold, shedding away the shadows that had allowed them life and promise. True, an uncomfortable life, but still one with hope. Now the bleak aspect of the threat upon them rose with the rays that showered down upon them.

Lauranalanthalasa knew she should move. There was much she had to attend to. But she had become lost in her thoughts.

Absent mindedly, her fingers trailed up to the bandage wrapped around her shoulder. How was it possible to continue crumbling when everything was already shredded? Closing her eyes she saw again the dagger that had been meant for her heart.

Traitors were all around her. Some she knew, some she did not. One baffled her beyond all; her greatest enemy, the man that had risen as a dictator of her people. There would be a part of her who could never forgive him for that crime.

Yet, now that she thought of it, was it right to loath him? He had taken the city as a soldier. He had believed in the force he belonged to, and ruled with what he had been taught was right. His regulations were strict and completely unorthodox from elven ways. And while he had done some cruel deeds, he had never been malicious. He had spared her people many things other knights of his order would never.

Since he had been first assigned his post and position thirty years ago, Laurana had seen him change. She dared say he was no longer who he had been. That could all be a façade.

“We were speaking of you, Marshal. Why are you prepared to give your life for elves?”
“I fight for my homeland, Madam.”
“One’s homeland is where one is born, Marshal.”
“Precisely, Madam. My homeland is here.”

Laurana flinched slightly as she recalled their conversation that was held not an hour ago. He truly had come to love the elven land, it’s ways, and it’s traditions. But was that enough?

He’s also come to love… She stopped her thought there before it developed into a monster. Her fingers slid back to the carefully tied knot that secured the bandage as she struggled not to recall the hands, stiff with cautious fright that had tied them.

Had he come to love her? Never would he say such a thing. The concept of love was not something the Marshal she first met would even say had a place in logic. He was no longer that same Marshal.

If he had come to care for her, it was a hopeless motion. She had loved once, and that love was buried. More importantly, the days her people had left, she could quite possibly count on her hands. They had run out of time.
This was absurd! Even if her suspicions were true, this was no time for such ponderings. Her people needed her, not as the Queen Mother, but as the wise Golden General she had once been. Those who had looked to her as a Kanan, as a Hero of the Lance, and as a protector, needed her by them now; to show faith in them as they had now in her. She didn’t have the time to be wary of the human’s intentions.

Even more so, she needed the Marshal to stay strong. He was a vital element in the plot that held the only dash of hope they did have. The Queen Mother laughed quietly to herself. She had no doubt he could, and would, remain the perfect actor.

Still, one thought stuck with her. Her palm rested comfortably against her stiff shoulder. The Marshall had always been a strong man. But as he lingered in her chambers attending to her, she had seen him falter. That terrified her.

What scared her more was that her skin still prickled at the thought of the soldiers touch. Her heart still ached with pride of his words. Her eyes still lingered on the same spot as they had since he departed.

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I don't own Laurana or Medan, or the text in italics. They belong to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. The text in itlaics and the inspiration for the art anad written piece comes from chapter 4 , "The Traitor" of the book Dragons of a Lost Star , second in the Dragonlance War of Souls trilogy. (Which happens to be my favorite book.)

Description
I would really like feedback, positive and negative. My hope is to submit this to Dragonlance Nexus, but I want this as best as I can get it before I do. Though, please note, due to some problems, all my color is now on one layer. *Sigh*
________________________________________ ________________

The Queen Mother sat rigid before the window. Morning glow had steadily risen into a gentle blaze as it began its climb above the city in its dedication. The glinting that poured in did not hold happiness for the people of Qualinost. It was cold, shedding away the shadows that had allowed them life and promise. True, an uncomfortable life, but still one with hope. Now the bleak aspect of the threat upon them rose with the rays that showered down upon them.

Lauranalanthalasa knew she should move. There was much she had to attend to. But she had become lost in her thoughts.

Absent mindedly, her fingers trailed up to the bandage wrapped around her shoulder. How was it possible to continue crumbling when everything was already shredded? Closing her eyes she saw again the dagger that had been meant for her heart.

Traitors were all around her. Some she knew, some she did not. One baffled her beyond all; her greatest enemy, the man that had risen as a dictator of her people. There would be a part of her who could never forgive him for that crime.

Yet, now that she thought of it, was it right to loath him? He had taken the city as a soldier. He had believed in the force he belonged to, and ruled with what he had been taught was right. His regulations were strict and completely unorthodox from elven ways. And while he had done some cruel deeds, he had never been malicious. He had spared her people many things other knights of his order would never.

Since he had been first assigned his post and position thirty years ago, Laurana had seen him change. She dared say he was no longer who he had been. That could all be a façade.

“We were speaking of you, Marshal. Why are you prepared to give your life for elves?”
“I fight for my homeland, Madam.”
“One’s homeland is where one is born, Marshal.”
“Precisely, Madam. My homeland is here.”

Laurana flinched slightly as she recalled their conversation that was held not an hour ago. He truly had come to love the elven land, it’s ways, and it’s traditions. But was that enough?

He’s also come to love… She stopped her thought there before it developed into a monster. Her fingers slid back to the carefully tied knot that secured the bandage as she struggled not to recall the hands, stiff with cautious fright that had tied them.

Had he come to love her? Never would he say such a thing. The concept of love was not something the Marshal she first met would even say had a place in logic. He was no longer that same Marshal.

If he had come to care for her, it was a hopeless motion. She had loved once, and that love was buried. More importantly, the days her people had left, she could quite possibly count on her hands. They had run out of time.
This was absurd! Even if her suspicions were true, this was no time for such ponderings. Her people needed her, not as the Queen Mother, but as the wise Golden General she had once been. Those who had looked to her as a Kanan, as a Hero of the Lance, and as a protector, needed her by them now; to show faith in them as they had now in her. She didn’t have the time to be wary of the human’s intentions.

Even more so, she needed the Marshal to stay strong. He was a vital element in the plot that held the only dash of hope they did have. The Queen Mother laughed quietly to herself. She had no doubt he could, and would, remain the perfect actor.

Still, one thought stuck with her. Her palm rested comfortably against her stiff shoulder. The Marshall had always been a strong man. But as he lingered in her chambers attending to her, she had seen him falter. That terrified her.

What scared her more was that her skin still prickled at the thought of the soldiers touch. Her heart still ached with pride of his words. Her eyes still lingered on the same spot as they had since he departed.

________________________________________ _________

I don't own Laurana or Medan, or the text in italics. They belong to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman. The text in itlaics and the inspiration for the art anad written piece comes from chapter 4 , "The Traitor" of the book Dragons of a Lost Star , second in the Dragonlance War of Souls trilogy. (Which happens to be my favorite book.)