The Daydreams of Anna Colvin

[Disclaimer: I do not own the idea for this story; 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty' was written by James Thurber. Speaking of Thurber, have you ever read "The Owl in the Attic and other stories"? It's hilarious.]

[A/N: Yes, it's loosely based on 'The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. But Study Hall is so Boring.]



Princess Angela waltzed down the stairs, wearing a gown of green velvet, embroidered with silver flowers. Her long bronze hair was piled on her head, and it stayed in place as she sashayed gracefully down the corridor. At the foot of the winding, narrow passage, her footman called out, "The Guests are here, milady." He didn't need to say that there were ten people there, all peasants, for Princess Angela knew that her coronation was not looked forward to. She raised her chin proudly.

"Let them miss my coronation! When I am Queen of Zoldina, I shall."

"Colvin, 'coronation'."

"I shall- What?"

"'Coronation'. Spell it!"

"Uh, c-o-r-o-n-a-t-i-o-n. Coronation."

"Good. Please stay in the present." Mrs. Armstrong went back to quizzing poor, helpless, unsuspecting students on their spelling words. "Ronsen, 'melancholy'."

Luckily for Ronsen, the bell rang. Unluckily for Anna Colvin, as she sat down in her next class, Daniel Morrison sat down next to her.

"Hi-hi, Anders." Dan was definitely a person unto himself. When people were being nice, they called him "original." When they were fed up with his annoying way of speaking and acting, they said he was a complete moron.

"'Lo, Dan." Anna was his favorite victim. She always answered him when he talked, while other people sighed and turned around. Partly because she didn't want to be rude, partly because there was nothing else to do in class, except possibly listen to the teacher (something to be avoided at all costs). However, Dan seemed content to have merely said hi today. Anna was worried that he was sick, until she saw that Tamara Miller, the most popular girl in school, was sitting directly in front of him. He was completely entranced with (nope, you're totally wrong) putting small pieces of paper down the back of her shirt. Ann settled back in her chair as Ms. Zurmann began droning on about the Ancient Greeks in her "one kindergartner has the collective intelligence of this entire class" voice.

Antiope sat, huddled in a corner of the dungeon where she normally stayed the night. She barely slept, although she was not allowed much food. Just enough to keep her alive so that Dirce could string out her suffering as long as possible.

It had not always been like this. Once she had been a queen, with her husband Epopeus allowing her to jointly rule his kingdom. It had been said hat the Gods envy the happiness of Mortals. It was true, at least in her instance. Zeus had begun it, endlessly pursuing her. She had been but 13 years of age when she was married to Epopeus, and 15 when the Gods began their cursed interference. Zeus had gotten her with child, but she never told Epopeus. Instead she kept to her chambers, claiming illness, and hid the children in a cave, along with a very faithful slave. Emydia was almost her sister, and had not given Amphion and Zethus away yet. She would certainly have been tortured with their deaths if they had been found.

Then, when she was 18, her uncle Lycus had attacked her peaceful world and shattered it. Epopeus was brutally slaughtered in front of her, and her wrists were chained; she was carried off in Lycus's chariot into the setting sun.

At Lycus's palace, she was presented to his wife, Dirce. Dirce had once been a great beauty when she was young, but had aged. She was insanely jealous of Antiope's youth and beauty, and also of her husband. Dirce treated her as lower than the lowest slave. During the day, she was chained to Dirce's throne, the butt of all jokes, made fun of, tortured in unimaginable ways, and yet she never lost hope. As the sun crept over the horizon, Antiope prayed to Themis, Dike, and Praxidice, goddesses of justice, that one day her sons would avenge her misery and kill that wretched Dirce.

"Anders. Hey, Anders. Anna?" Dan's face was suddenly worried.

"Hm?"

Dan gestured at Mrs. Zurmann. She was glaring at Ann. "Well?"

"No, thank you, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't asking for an apology, I want an answer. Well?"

"I- I- Could you repeat the question?"

"Name one way that the Greeks were technologically advanced."

Ann looked at her notes, which were no help at all, of course, since they were covered in doodles of dragons, except for the one from yesterday, which was the one of Leonardo daVinci's flying machine. "They had, uh, detailed star maps and, erm, gave us the constellations of today."

"Thank you, Anna." Mrs. Zurmann seemed placated, though she was still looking suspicious. "Please stay after today to take Monday's test."

"Mrs. Zurmann, you told me that yesterday."

"Yes, but I wanted to make sure that you remembered, since you obviously never wrote it down," she replied, glancing at Anna's notebook. Anna flushed a pale pink, and a few people tittered, hoping to see someone get a detention. Fortunately for Anna, they were disappointed. Mrs. Zurmann began droning on again.

Andrell, the Lady Knight, led her battalion to the opposing army. They were outnumbered two to one, but her soldiers were rumored to be tougher than iron.

She had had as good training as the other knights her age, but the difference was that she had wanted to be a knight wholeheartedly. At the age of ten she had pretended to be a boy, Anders, and had been the top of her class, only telling people that she was a girl the day she was knighted.

Her battalion faced certain death, but still she stood; Andrell the Warrior Woman, imperturbable to the last.

{a/n: so, do you think I should do a sequal?}