Fanfic - Two Little Princesses
She had her own princesses now. They reminded her so much of her sister and herself when they had been younger; they ran around, picked apples, made dolls spin with magic…
She hadn’t wanted to be ruler of the O.Z., even though she was royalty. She had decided to leave that to her older sister; Az was more suited for things such as governing, she was refined and responsible even after having been possessed by a centuries old witch. No, the hero of the O.Z. preferred the simple life, something similar to what she had left behind.
She was content to watch her little girls as they laughed and cried, sharing in their triumphs and failures. She watched with pride as they each developed their gifts.
The younger of the two was so very much like her in appearance and personality. She ran around with reckless abandon, imagination wild and spirit high. She was adventurous and brave, a whimsical little being.
The older of the two resembled their father. She was cold to some degree but by no means harsh; she had her moments when it seemed as if she had lost half her brain. She was intelligent and quick-witted, using her dry and sarcastic nature to her advantage. Sometimes she was a bit more like her father’s other side, the side that was childish and forgetful. She was fascinating to watch as she switched between her mature and immature personalities; she was a puzzle.
And then there was him, the man that was the father of her two little gifts and the love of her life. She laughed as she watched him tumble with them in the grass or shoot rocks across the lake. She would sigh and roll her eyes when the part of him that was Ambrose surged forth and irritated both her and the children. Still, he was hers and she was his.
This was what she had fought for, for the future of the O.Z., the future of her children. This was what he had sacrificed so much for. They had both been through their fair share of heartache and hurt, but in the end, when she looked into his eyes and saw the warmth in them she knew that it had all been worth it. It had been worth every tear and drop of blood to watch her two little princesses dance and play, free as could be.
She hadn’t wanted to be ruler of the O.Z., even though she was royalty. She had decided to leave that to her older sister; Az was more suited for things such as governing, she was refined and responsible even after having been possessed by a centuries old witch. No, the hero of the O.Z. preferred the simple life, something similar to what she had left behind.
She was content to watch her little girls as they laughed and cried, sharing in their triumphs and failures. She watched with pride as they each developed their gifts.
The younger of the two was so very much like her in appearance and personality. She ran around with reckless abandon, imagination wild and spirit high. She was adventurous and brave, a whimsical little being.
The older of the two resembled their father. She was cold to some degree but by no means harsh; she had her moments when it seemed as if she had lost half her brain. She was intelligent and quick-witted, using her dry and sarcastic nature to her advantage. Sometimes she was a bit more like her father’s other side, the side that was childish and forgetful. She was fascinating to watch as she switched between her mature and immature personalities; she was a puzzle.
And then there was him, the man that was the father of her two little gifts and the love of her life. She laughed as she watched him tumble with them in the grass or shoot rocks across the lake. She would sigh and roll her eyes when the part of him that was Ambrose surged forth and irritated both her and the children. Still, he was hers and she was his.
This was what she had fought for, for the future of the O.Z., the future of her children. This was what he had sacrificed so much for. They had both been through their fair share of heartache and hurt, but in the end, when she looked into his eyes and saw the warmth in them she knew that it had all been worth it. It had been worth every tear and drop of blood to watch her two little princesses dance and play, free as could be.