07-04-2016, 11:05 PM
Kingdom meetings aren't really my thing. In the three years since I was adopted into the Tundra, I haven't attended a single kingdom function. The politics of this place have never mattered to me, though for most of those three years I was still a child, free of the demands of a kingdom life. The Tundra functioned as a backdrop, just a setting where I could interact with my family. The only people who really matter to me. The only ones I've ever mattered to.
This time, though, when my father's call echoes across the vast expanse of plains wet with snowmelt and the thawing of the upper layers of frost in the soil, it is clear somehow that everyone's presence is requested. Even that of a rather errant prince. Acquiescing, I peer out of the mouth of my favorite cave, seeking out the gathering place chosen for this meeting.
I'm hardly the first to respond. When I spot my father—my king, at the moment, I suppose—he is already surrounded by others, ages varying, sizes varying. I'll be among the smallest of the lot, aside from the young ones who stand at parents' sides. As I approach, I recognize Mari and Lee among the crowd, picking their way toward our father, each moving to his side, touching him in affectionate greeting.
The rest are strangers to me, a few youngsters, some adolescent and others just old enough to leave their dams' sides. And, of course, a couple of adults have gathered together already as well. Rather than joining Mari and Lee at Dad's side and crowding him during a kingdom meeting, I stop just before I reach the gathering crowd, staying toward the back and out of immediate line of sight of everyone whose attention is tuned to their king.
When Dad finally speaks, I can't help but give him my undivided attention. Something about him in this moment, the strength in his voice, the determination in the set of his jaw, the way he carries himself as he addresses his people, I can't pinpoint it but it commands my focus. And who am I to refuse? He speaks of his rule, how he has led the kingdom differently than past rulers, and I blink, surprised. Somehow, it never occurred to me that he wasn't always the king here. Of course it's obvious the moment I think it. But my father seems eternal, steadfast and solid and true, and I can't imagine the Tundra without him at its head.
He draws a deep breath, watching us, and I know something big is coming. I can feel it in my bones, in the weight of expectation trembling along my spine. My unblinking gaze is locked on his face when he finally gives us the news. The Tundra is no longer a bachelor kingdom. Women can join the ranks, could climb to a position of power, have actual influence. Maybe one day the Tundra will even have a queen.
The solemnly attentive expression on my face changes slowly to an excited grin. There is a place here now for all my sisters, for my mother, for...for any daughters I might someday bring home from the adoption den the way Isle brought me home. The way we brought Lee home. Lee. I shift my attention to her, and she's smiling too, curling up against his side and savoring the wonderful news.
We'd only just begun to talk about the possibility of being a home for lost children like we once were, but the thought of leaving our family behind has been eating away at me ever since she asked about the future. I don't want to be apart from Mom and Dad, from Mari and Lissie...from Argo. If...if he weren't interested in coming too. Now, when I'm ready, this can be home for the lost ones. We don't have to go anywhere. Relief has my mud-brown eyes lighting up, my grin so large it makes my cheeks ache. Now even more than ever before, the Tundra can be home.
This time, though, when my father's call echoes across the vast expanse of plains wet with snowmelt and the thawing of the upper layers of frost in the soil, it is clear somehow that everyone's presence is requested. Even that of a rather errant prince. Acquiescing, I peer out of the mouth of my favorite cave, seeking out the gathering place chosen for this meeting.
I'm hardly the first to respond. When I spot my father—my king, at the moment, I suppose—he is already surrounded by others, ages varying, sizes varying. I'll be among the smallest of the lot, aside from the young ones who stand at parents' sides. As I approach, I recognize Mari and Lee among the crowd, picking their way toward our father, each moving to his side, touching him in affectionate greeting.
The rest are strangers to me, a few youngsters, some adolescent and others just old enough to leave their dams' sides. And, of course, a couple of adults have gathered together already as well. Rather than joining Mari and Lee at Dad's side and crowding him during a kingdom meeting, I stop just before I reach the gathering crowd, staying toward the back and out of immediate line of sight of everyone whose attention is tuned to their king.
When Dad finally speaks, I can't help but give him my undivided attention. Something about him in this moment, the strength in his voice, the determination in the set of his jaw, the way he carries himself as he addresses his people, I can't pinpoint it but it commands my focus. And who am I to refuse? He speaks of his rule, how he has led the kingdom differently than past rulers, and I blink, surprised. Somehow, it never occurred to me that he wasn't always the king here. Of course it's obvious the moment I think it. But my father seems eternal, steadfast and solid and true, and I can't imagine the Tundra without him at its head.
He draws a deep breath, watching us, and I know something big is coming. I can feel it in my bones, in the weight of expectation trembling along my spine. My unblinking gaze is locked on his face when he finally gives us the news. The Tundra is no longer a bachelor kingdom. Women can join the ranks, could climb to a position of power, have actual influence. Maybe one day the Tundra will even have a queen.
The solemnly attentive expression on my face changes slowly to an excited grin. There is a place here now for all my sisters, for my mother, for...for any daughters I might someday bring home from the adoption den the way Isle brought me home. The way we brought Lee home. Lee. I shift my attention to her, and she's smiling too, curling up against his side and savoring the wonderful news.
We'd only just begun to talk about the possibility of being a home for lost children like we once were, but the thought of leaving our family behind has been eating away at me ever since she asked about the future. I don't want to be apart from Mom and Dad, from Mari and Lissie...from Argo. If...if he weren't interested in coming too. Now, when I'm ready, this can be home for the lost ones. We don't have to go anywhere. Relief has my mud-brown eyes lighting up, my grin so large it makes my cheeks ache. Now even more than ever before, the Tundra can be home.