Glory's Dawn
by the March Hare
Is this what it feels like to be a god?
She looked down at the masses and inwardly frowned. Flowing colors. Bright blues, reds, greens. Dark blacks, light whites, solemn grays. All for her.
All for her.
It had always been hers, yet like an iron sword for a first time in a boy's hand it felt unnatural, unwieldy… dangerous.
Collecting her courage, she raised her hand and waved. The gathering roared, and banners swayed in the summer breeze. A cold wind blew against the castle wall.
Her eyes drifted to the sowed fields and peasant houses beyond the fortifications. Beyond that, the high trees of her childhood forest. A hawk flew circles above the canopy.
Home. Home was leagues away.
Yet she had a new home, one of stone and steel and strength. One with Philip and her father and her mother. Could the artificial replace the living? Could the unfamiliar now replace the comfortable old?
Oh, so many questions to ask, so many years left blind!
Her aunts. They were busy, she knew, but right now she missed them so…
She looked once more over the mass. Shining armor, mighty trumpets, her word declared.
She could take advantage of her situation. The land was well-off, the nobles were currently loyal, and walls were built high. Her father is a skilled king and a papa she had always wanted. King Hubert's land was a part of her kingdom now, all its resources and armies. Philip is an ambitious man, and just as eager to learn and grow as she is. Perhaps, with all this, she could improve upon what her forefathers had done. It would be, after all, her kingdom one day. She would learn, she would grow, until like a mighty oak her branches would reach over and shelter all from the evils of the world.
Yes, she would reign as princess.
Yes, she would move forward into the unknown.
Yes, she would overcome all that opposed her.
She raised her hands, and the masses roared as if they had seen dawn break for the first time.
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or any of its products. If I did…it would get really interesting (rubs hand deviously while snickering manically).