Title: Through Her Eyes

Rating: G

Summary: When the world is finally at peace, an old queen hears a startling rumor that she must confirm for herself… *Dedicated to a beloved stormwing. He is sorely missed.*

Warnings: Spoilers for… most of the series, really. But if you haven't read "Realms of the Gods," you really shouldn't read this. I mean it. Major spoilage ahead.

Disclaimer: I do not own the "Immortals" series, or any other works by the amazing and awe-inspiring Tamora Pierce. I am simply a loyal fan paying tribute.

A/N: This is set just after the end of Trickster's Queen.

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Through Her Eyes

The farmers of Tortall were active in the fields, bringing in a new harvest. With the war with Scanra finally over, they could rest easy, knowing that those sons and daughters who had survived the battles were home, safe and sound. There was also a sense of loss over all, for many brave young warriors had not returned, and their presence was sadly missed.

Flying high above the land, a lone figure felt the melancholy from the people below. So many had been slain. She knew. She had seen the bodies lying on the fields of battle, desecrated by her own people. She had no sympathy or respect for dead bodies – they no longer carried the souls that mattered. But the loss of a life was not something she truly enjoyed. Unless, of course, that life had been spent making others suffer.

But innocence… innocence should be protected, not thrown to the wolves, hoping to defend people who were too cowardly to fight for themselves… those who preferred to hide behind their walls of stone, and the people who served them.

A soft sigh escaped her before she could stop it.

At least the war was over now.

But there was something… rumors of rumors, a whispered word among the winds… something she had to prove. The words of others could not persuade or dissuade her on this matter.

She must see with her own eyes.

As her destination came in view, she heard the familiar cries that always heralded her arrival.

"Stormwing!"

"There's a Stormwing approaching!"

Rolling her eyes, trying not to be too annoyed with the poor ground-pounding mortals, the winged being began to drop. Once she was within the palace walls, she came to land on a large tree branch in an extravagant court yard. Finding herself surrounded by wary archers, she called out clearly, "I have come to speak to two mages: the Wildmage and the black mage Salmalin. They live here, do they not?"

One of the archers lowered her bow. "Who are we to say asks for them?"

Sending a withering glance to the dark-skinned woman, she replied, "Tell them Queen Barzha is here."

The woman glared her down for a long moment – which was funny enough, considering her diminutive size – before nodding at a tall, lanky man to her right. He dropped his bow and slung it over his back before taking off at a jog. "They will be here soon," the woman stated, and Barzha nodded regally, settling down to wait.

Nearly an hour passed as the queen waited, but her patience never wavered. And it was not in vain.

Two figures entered the courtyard, walking calmly to stand beneath the tree the queen rested in. The taller of the two, a man with dark, swarthy skin and a long nose, bowed to her, careful of the small child in his arms. "Your majesty, what a pleasant surprise. It's been nearly ten years since we saw you last. What brings you to Corus now?"

"A rumor, mage. I see part of it is true enough." Gesturing to the young one he held, and the bundle his mate carried in her arms, she smirked slightly. "I take it these children are your doing?"

"He had help," a dry voice countered, bringing the queen's attention to the dark-haired woman next to the mage. "Though, knowing him, he would take full credit for them," Daine added, blue-gray eyes twinkling as she smiled up at her husband.

"Never, sweetling," he corrected softly, his dark eyes shining in response. Turning to their impromptu guest, Numair shifted the little girl, who was happily squirming in his arms. "If you've truly come to see the children, please, come down so you may see them properly."

"I think your friends would disapprove," Barzha said dryly, glancing at the archers who still stood attentive, their bows at their sides.

The Wildmage turned. "There's no need to have the Riders here."

Numair grinned as he added, "Besides, I find it funny that your 'retirement' so conveniently allows you to continue training the new recruits. Doesn't that defeat the original purpose?"

The small woman scowled, choosing not to respond to the mage's teasing. "You don't want to give your children some protection?" she asked Daine, shooting a look at the stormwing.

Daine sighed. "Buri, please. She's a friend."

The dark-skinned woman slowly nodded. Turning to the others, she called, "Back to your training, young ones. That's enough excitement for today."

While the crowd slowly dispersed, Barzha floated to the ground in front of the couple, causing the little girl to squeal.

"Sto'ming!" she giggled happily, her chubby little hands clapping in glee. "Pwetty sto'ming!"

Barzha cocked her head at the little girl. "Pretty?" she asked gently.

"Your feathers," Numair explained with a smile, holding tight as his giddy daughter attempted to reach the queen. "She likes how they reflect the sun."

"Fevvers!" the girl squealed again, causing a new bout of giggles to erupt from her small frame.

"I see," Barzha murmured. "And what should I call this adorable child?"

Her father leaned close and whispered something in the girl's ear, before she giggled again. "Sa'win! I two!" she proclaimed proudly, holding up a single finger on each of her small hands.

"Sarralin," her mother translated, smiling at her daughter. "Named for my mother, Sarra. She turned two during our stay in the Copper Isles." Shifting the bundle in her arms carefully, she moved closer to the stormwing. "And this little fellow," she added gently, "is Rikash."

Barzha felt her throat catch.

So it was true…

Slowly, cautiously, the queen leaned forward, peering into the wrappings and swaddling cloths to find a tiny face, scrunched up in infant slumber, a dark little fist being fervently sucked on by full lips.

"We thought it a fitting way to honor him," Numair said quietly, breaking the silence.

Momentarily unable to speak, the queen simply watched the baby sleep. If only her champion warrior could have seen this… Her eyes were tempted to tear up, but she pushed back the urge to cry. She wasn't that sentimental, especially in front of humans.

She backed up slowly and nodded to herself. "A good name," she finally said.

"We think so," Daine replied, fitting herself snuggly into her husband's side.

Her baby brother now within her reach, Sarralin smiled at him and patted his head gently. "Babbie 'Kash," she said, tender affection written on her small face.

"That's right, sweetie," Daine answered softly. "Be gentle with the baby."

Sarralin nodded happily. "Gen'l wif babbie 'Kash," she promised, before looking up at Barzha with a smile. "Pwetty sto'ming, see babbie 'Kash?"

The stormwing queen nodded, smiling gently at the girl. "Yes, I see him. Take good care of him, Sarralin. He's a special child."

Dark brown eyes looked up solemnly, and a tiny head nodded with all the determination of a knight embarking on a grand quest.

A moment of peace surrounded the friends, and Barzha relished in it. No pain, no death. No jeering, no anger. Just quiet understanding between beings, and a companionship that comes from shared victories and losses alike.

But, all things must come to an end, and she had a tribe to lead.

With a nod to the mages, she hopped a few feet away from the children. Then, flapping her razor-sharp wings, Barzha rose into the air and, with one last look at the small family, turned and flew away.

But not before she heard an innocent voice, untroubled by the prejudices and pain of the rest of the world, and smiled, finally letting the tears flow as the heartfelt words rang in her ears.

"Bye-bye pwetty sto'ming!"

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No real plot, but I needed to have this moment. I saw it one day, as clearly as if I was watching it happen, and it had to be written. Consider it my tribute to Rikash. May he forever rest in peace. (Or spend the rest of eternity tormenting Ozorne. "So… defeated by the little girl, huh? I guess you just weren't as tough as you thought." D Oh, he would so do that!)

I hope you enjoyed it.

-Ali