Author's Note: This is how I picture how the Red Queen feels and what happens to her and Stayne after their banishment. It's not really long, and I have no idea if I've spelled any of their 'real' names right, but I did try my best.

8/12/2012: After looking back on this Author's Note I made two years ago I have to say how stupid I was to put down those things- how am I to know what could have happened to someone who read them? I offer my most heartfelt apologies. So I'll just say right here: This is VERY negative and has suicide, so please DO NOT READ if this triggers you. I wrote this because the idea rattled around in my head for days and I just had to write it out. I was merely trying to convey the sympathy I felt for the Red Queen, and since I was also going through a rough patch when I wrote this, it just made a lot of sense to me. I can only hope it helps you understand her, at least the way I seem to. I can't really say 'enjoy!' at the end here because that would be pretty sadistic of me. However, I do hope you can appreciate what I tried to do here.

He was right.

It was much better to be feared than loved.

Oh, but how she ached for the very love that had been denied her all of her rancid life. Mirana had always been the favorite of Mummy and Daddy. Not Iracebeth. Not ever Iracebeth. She'd always been frowned upon when she did something bad as a child, or was given a spanking. But her sister, her perfect little sister, was just a little itty bitty angel that couldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to.

It was against her vows, she would say.

Iracebeth thought she was loved when she and a prince had married and soon become rulers. He didn't have nearly as big of a head as her; not even close, but he was gorgeous. So they ruled. And then she found out he was cheating on her with a maid. She never found out which maid, or else she would be without a head as well. But just the king was.

Iracebeth claimed he would have left her if she hadn't done it.

And then there were her nobles that were almost always by her side, making jokes or telling her of the scandals around the castle. But they were all fakes. They just wanted to be on her good side, so they wouldn't be beheaded. If she had had her way, they would have been. Immediately.

It was then when she knew he was right. It was better to be feared than loved. A single tear drop spilled over, but she let no one see a weakness in her. Oh, how she wanted to be loved, to be adored. But she didn't have the slightest clue how. And if anybody had truly loved her, they would have been able to see past all of her hideous deeds and loved her.

Maybe that was why she didn't have love. Maybe she had the wrong conception of it. Or maybe people were disgusted by her huge head. She had no idea. Maybe she shouldn't know. She shouldn't know at all…

And she had nobody to bother anymore. After trying to kill her numerous times, each hurting her more emotionally than physically, Stayne had finally decided to kill himself and ended his misery. She took his blade out of his heart, wiped it clean of his knave blood with what was left of his garb after all the treacherous land they had crossed. Then she cut their refinements so she was free of his dead weight.

That was all he was, dead weight.

She buried him herself. Since she was so short and he was so tall it took far longer than it should have. It was nearly too short for him, but it would have to do. She shoveled all the dirt back over him, damning him to hell all the while wishing him well. When she was done she placed the only flowers she could find, blood colored ones, and placed them over his grave.

Then she stared at the knife on the ground.

It would be easy, she mused, to end herself as well.

But who would bury her?

No one.

No one was to pay her a kindness.

No one was to utter a single word to her.

She wasn't to have a single friend in the world. At all.

It made her want to end it all even more. She had nothing and nobody to live for, so why live at all? She imagined how it would be to do so; her holding the blade to her heart, the slight hesitation because she was afraid of the pain it would cause her. Then the forced entry of her body, the jagged slide to her heart until it was broken physically as it was emotionally. Then the empty stare her eyes would hold as she died. When she was dead.

She almost found the idea thrilling. So she trudged as far as away from Stayne as she could until she found beautiful flowers she could ruin with her blood. And sitting down, she ended herself and the burden she had put on Underland.

With her eyes wide open and empty, she died.

For once, Iracebeth was right about something.