The queen, Lucy, walked through the bright grass, along with her daughter Leah. They both had striking features, blue eyes, blonde hair, and the same shape face; you could only guess that they were mother and daughter. However, the older lady had pain etched on her face, as if remembering someplace she thought never to go again.
All of a sudden, she heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, and knew this meant only one thing. War was upon them. She immediately remembered the warning that Father Christmas had given her many years before, when she was only a small child...
“You are not to fight in the war... Wars get ugly when women fight.”
Ever since then, she had heeded his warning, but now she was wondering, could he have been wrong? No, Lucy thought to herself, and trudged on, with her daughter at her heels.
“Mother, what does this mean,” Leah asked. “Are we to fight?”
After a minute's pause, she answered, still trudging on through the tall, grassy meadow. “No, Leah. I had learned that long ago, as a young girl, like you are now. We do not fight. We do not go into battle unless we are called to it.”
“Yes, Mother,” Leah said, and then ran ahead into the open field ahead of them. The swords were still heard clanging ahead of them, but somehow, what was on Lucy's mind was not the war, but different matters entirely.
