Reign or Shine

Evil Kings and Difficult Things

As the weeks and months go on, the war gets worse. More and more knights and soldiers get slaughtered by the ruthless King Moriarty, bent on ruling all of Europe. King Sherlock's seemingly unwavering strength was starting to fail and some of the people were losing faith in him. He found himself alone with the burden and would often spend hours in his room studying maps then went off to war only to become the main target in the battle. He would often come back with wounds. One night, his mother comes into his chambers, bearing some news. King Moriarty was willing to compromise with him on territory in order to end the grueling unending war. 

"I will go meet with him this instant." He puts on his coat. Tell the horse keeper and bring a carriage round." 

"Yes dear." She bows and rushes off. He gets ready then gets into the carriage. The couriers take the reigns and bring him to a building in mutual territory.

King Sherlock gets out of the carriage and looks around. King Moriarty steps out of the building, grinning and pleased with himself, while King Sherlock scowls a bit back. 

"Ahh so you've decided to come. I was starting to wonder if you'd cower away. Your Father was so weak, I had imagined you'd be just like him. As you can see I was right. Revenge is a weakness in and of itself. Revenge is an act of desperation. And you my boy are so clearly set on destroying me. Which! By the way we all know you can't achieve without daddy dearest."

"I came here because I received word you wanted to speak of the land situation."

"Pity." He chuckles. "Though you should've seen the look of surprise on his face when I plunged my sword into his frail little heart. Something to cherish really. A very funny sight. Oh! Yesss. Right. The land the land the land...I want all of it. And you're going to give it to me. Your whole reign. Your castle, your country. All mine. UNLESS you abide by my terms."

"And what terms would that be?"

King James smirks evilly. Come in and sit. I'll give you the list my scribe has so wonderful crafted for you. It lists everything I want. And if I don't get it I will /BURN/ your country. I will make every border every bridge and every body of water erupt into flames. I will make sure every last average village folk dies by my hand and that there is NO escaping my terror unless you give me what I want." Moriarty pulls a chair and sits arrogantly, taking out a bit of parchment and handing it over to Sherlock. The list says that he wants all of King Sherlock's workers. Nurses, maids, shoe shiners, seamstresses, cooks, etc.

"Why do you want these workers?"

"My empire and my reign depends on all of the workers that I inherit from other Kings. They become loyal to me and therefore I become quite indispensable. Wouldn't you say?"

King Sherlock closes his eyes slightly, "I'm sorry but I can't follow these demands."

Moriarty's eyes gleam with fire. "Oh but you will meet these demands. If you do not I will kill everyone you hold dear. I have legions and legions of soldiers and spies on my side. They can and will get the job done on my command. All I have to do is snap my fingers."

"I assure you I hold no one dear."

He laughs heartily yet it could send shivers down the spines of everyone near. "Oh sweet boy..we both know that's untrue."

Sherlock stands slowly, "I came to negotiate land. Not people."

"That's where the land comes in, boy. You see, no land is important without those of which to reign. If you had a country with no people there will be no need for your reign. And if you refuse my offer I can assure you, your reign will not hold for long after this meeting. Nobody will be left standing to stay loyal to you."

Sherlock suddenly shoves a small dagger deep into Moriarty's stomach. Jim returns the gesture at the same moment, plunging his dagger into Sherlock's chest. "I will /burn/ you. I will /destroy/ you."

He glares into Moriarty's eyes and digs the dagger deeper into his chest. King James barely flinches. In fact, he positively grins as he twists his sword within Holmes' chest. Sherlock tries to focus all the pain and rage into his arm as he thrusts the dagger through Moriarty, the dagger showing itself through his lower back. Two of Moriarty's men come in, dragging the Queen, Sherlock's mother, in their grasp.

He yanks the dagger from King Holmes chest and unimpales himself from said Kings' dagger. Blood gushes from his stomach but he saunters over to the Queen, unfazed. "You claim you hold no one dear, am I correct?"

Sherlock holds his chest wound and glances at his mother. "ANSWER THE QUESTION!" King James roars, getting impatient. "The people would rather kill themselves then work for you." 

Sherlock spits blood from his mouth. "If you win the war like this, you won't have any people to rule over."

"Ohh...oh you really are such a sad, lost little boy aren't you?......I AM FEARED. I HAVE PEOPLE ROUND THE WORLD LOYAL TO ME! I OWN YOU!!!" He smirks and traces the Queen's jaw with the point of his sword. "Must be difficult knowing you let down your Father, and brought forth your Mother's death. That's...hmm..disappointment two and King Holmes ZERO."

His mother looks at him lovingly, and King James scoffs in disgust. Sherlock falls back into the chair not having the strength to stand anymore. "Fine. I will give you my servants. And the medical and kitchen staff of my choice. Alright?" Sherlock clenches his jaw.

Jim smiles smugly and points the dagger toward him. "Good boy. Sign on the line." Sherlock nods and signs. Once he signs, Moriarty grins, and in one swift movement King James spins on his heel, thrusting his arm backward and bringing his dagger to cleanly slice through the Queen's exposed throat. Deep crimson begins to gush from the fatal wound and soak through the gorgeous lavender silk gown she was wearing, gifted to her from his father. Moriarty cackles. "Oh...wow..the irony. I love a good ironic situation don't you? The joy of death. Now that sends a message quite well, don't you think, boy?"

"NO!" Sherlock runs and catches her as she falls and holds her throat. Jim snatches up the contract and snaps his fingers. The henchmen follow him out the door. "I will be in contact."

The Queen gasps for air, not receiving any. She looks into her son's eyes. Through her strangled gasps she manages her last words. "I...love..you....we...are...proud...of you...always.... She tries to get out more, but becomes weaker, losing her battle within seconds.

"I need your guidance. I need your wisdom. Do not forsake me now Mother." Her body lays lifeless and bloody within his arms. He holds her shaking, and yells with all his might. Within moments, a small legion of soldiers in his army appear. They all see what has happened and drop to their knees in respect, most shedding a tear or two for the beloved Queen.

"One of you, get my carriage! I won't leave her here like this. And then gather as many men as possible." They nod and salute him. 

"Yes Your Majesty." They rush off, sending for the carriage and more men to help bring her body home safely.