erinm_4600
in
12to32
Fic: It's Just a Book...
Title: It's Just a Book...
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: DG (mention of Cain, Glitch, Raw, Az, Jeb, Ahamo, the Queen and an OC)
Rating: PG
Summary: A stray piece of paper shoved in a book holds the answers... if it's ever found.
Warning: post-series, by about 30 years/annuals *Written for Round 14 of prompt-in-a-box. Prompt #32: "And when you left you kissed my lips, you told me you'd never ever forget these images, no." (Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy) and this prompt at characteraday
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Sleeping Beauty | Dark to Light, Part I | First Date | Found | It's Just a Book... | Wake-up Call | Birthday Present
A warm breeze blew in through the window and caught her attention, forcing her to turn as the curtains fluttered. A small smile grew on her lips as her eyes took in the stone wall surrounding the window. Normally, stone walls would make her feel cold, but these walls always seemed warm.
Maybe it was due to the summer heat. Possibly the two suns in the sky.
Or not.
Turning back, she glanced over the items on the desktop and reached for the open book. All right, she reached for the purple flower sitting on the page the book was open to. Carefully, she lifted it and brought the center to her nose. To say it had a smell would be silly, as all flowers had a smell. But this one didn't have a distinct smell, such as a rose.
Not that she remembered what a rose smelled like.
Pulling the flower away, she took a moment to examine it. The petals were a deep red, nearing purple. But it was the white tips that intrigued her. These flowers didn't grow in the garden downstairs, and she did wonder where they came from. Rising from her chair, she twirled the stem between her fingers and moved over to the nightstand, where an old, cracked pitcher sat, full of the same reddish-purple flowers.
A few of them were nearing the end of their days, she noted, but she'd not worry about pulling them out of the bouquet just yet. It would give her something to do tomorrow.
Turning back to the room, she looked around. She liked her room, but always had a feeling she was in someone else's room; visiting and just "borrowing" the bed. But, the few times she'd inquired, she'd been told that it was, in fact, her room. And her things were in the dresser drawers, her dresses were in the cupboard on the far wall, so who was she to argue?
That, of course, was the problem.
She didn't know.
Of course, she knew she was there, and she knew the people she saw every day. But her own person was a mystery. Even looking in the mirror, she recognized the face, but couldn't recall the name. Oddly, it probably should bother her more than it did.
All right, it did bother her. She didn't have any hard evidence, but she had the distinct feeling that there was something everyone else knew and wasn't telling her. She'd gone through all the possibilities: she was a maid and had taken a fall down the stairs; she had fallen off a horse; she took a tumble during a tornado and cracked her skull and this was all a dream; she was a criminal and had murdered someone important.
The last was least-likely, as she did seem to have the freedom to walk around the place like she owned it. Well, there was always someone following her on her walks, and she was certain that someone's eyes were on her, even when she was alone. Of course, every time she turned, no one was around.
Thinking about it just made her head hurt. Shaking the thoughts away, she moved back over to the desk and frowned as she pulled the book closer. A quick glance at the page made her realize that she had no idea what had happened to that point, and starting a book in the middle was just stupid.
What she did remember, without question, was that the window seat in the hallway was not only well-lit for reading, but rather comfortable. Holding her finger tight to the page, she closed the book and turned to the door. Unfortunately, she misjudged her swing and slammed the book against the side of the dresser.
The book hit the floor with a thunk and her hand shook from the sting of the impact. As her brow crinkled, realizing that she'd lost her place, she huffed and leaned over to pick up the book. As she cursed the lost page - and realized that she was probably the last one to reach that page and she was planning to start at the beginning anyway - a slip of paper falling from the back of the book caught her attention.
She leaned down again and had to reach under the dresser to find the page. Her hand tapped the side of a box, and she had to reach her other hand under the dresser to pull it out. Sitting up, she leaned against the bed post and pulled the box to her side. She ran a hand over the top of the box but didn't open it. Instead, she unfolded the piece of paper.
You are DG.
You are the Queen of the Outer Zone. You died one time. You grew up in Kansas.
You are DG.
Your mother had purple eyes. Your sister was Azkadellia. Glitch and Raw are your best friends.
You are DG.
You have a wonderful husband. You have a beautiful daughter.
YOU ARE DG.
Shaking her head, she let the page refold and lifted the box up to the bed, then stood and climbed onto the mattress. Opening the box, she smiled at some of the trinkets inside the box: a stone, a little person made of twigs, a button. Spotting a leather-bound book, she pulled it free and stared, wide-eyed at the sketches in the book. Some had color - one, in particular, had a definite purple hue in the eyes and the dress - and some were still rough.
As she flipped to the back of the book, she noted that some of the images were half-finished, as if the subject simply walked away, mid-sketch. Frowning, she flipped back to the front of the book and noticed that some of the faces were actually labeled: Glitch, Dad, Jeb and Cain- The man in the sketch... she knew him. She saw him every day.
He always seemed to be just where she was.
There was a stack of photos, she noticed, shoved along the side of the box. Pulling them out, she was able to match some of the faces to those in the sketches. There was another of Cain, Cain and Glitch, Cain and a young girl - she looked very familiar - and one of two women; one with lavender eyes and the other-
Looking up from the photo, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The woman in the mirror was the woman in the photo. Granted, the woman in the mirror had many years on the photo. Blinking, she looked back down to the photos. There were half a dozen photos of an infant, a toddler and a young girl. Flipping back to the first photos, she realized that the girl was the same one in the photo with that Cain fella.
For whatever reason, she thumbed the last photo out and set the stack aside. Looking down at the picture in her lap, she saw the woman from the mirror, Cain and the girl. They looked happy. A knot had formed in her stomach - as if her brain was still catching up to what the rest of her body already knew.
Turning the picture over, she saw four words: Wyatt, Leigh and DG
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: DG (mention of Cain, Glitch, Raw, Az, Jeb, Ahamo, the Queen and an OC)
Rating: PG
Summary: A stray piece of paper shoved in a book holds the answers... if it's ever found.
Warning: post-series, by about 30 years/annuals *Written for Round 14 of prompt-in-a-box. Prompt #32: "And when you left you kissed my lips, you told me you'd never ever forget these images, no." (Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy) and this prompt at characteraday
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Sleeping Beauty | Dark to Light, Part I | First Date | Found | It's Just a Book... | Wake-up Call | Birthday Present
A warm breeze blew in through the window and caught her attention, forcing her to turn as the curtains fluttered. A small smile grew on her lips as her eyes took in the stone wall surrounding the window. Normally, stone walls would make her feel cold, but these walls always seemed warm.
Maybe it was due to the summer heat. Possibly the two suns in the sky.
Or not.
Turning back, she glanced over the items on the desktop and reached for the open book. All right, she reached for the purple flower sitting on the page the book was open to. Carefully, she lifted it and brought the center to her nose. To say it had a smell would be silly, as all flowers had a smell. But this one didn't have a distinct smell, such as a rose.
Not that she remembered what a rose smelled like.
Pulling the flower away, she took a moment to examine it. The petals were a deep red, nearing purple. But it was the white tips that intrigued her. These flowers didn't grow in the garden downstairs, and she did wonder where they came from. Rising from her chair, she twirled the stem between her fingers and moved over to the nightstand, where an old, cracked pitcher sat, full of the same reddish-purple flowers.
A few of them were nearing the end of their days, she noted, but she'd not worry about pulling them out of the bouquet just yet. It would give her something to do tomorrow.
Turning back to the room, she looked around. She liked her room, but always had a feeling she was in someone else's room; visiting and just "borrowing" the bed. But, the few times she'd inquired, she'd been told that it was, in fact, her room. And her things were in the dresser drawers, her dresses were in the cupboard on the far wall, so who was she to argue?
That, of course, was the problem.
She didn't know.
Of course, she knew she was there, and she knew the people she saw every day. But her own person was a mystery. Even looking in the mirror, she recognized the face, but couldn't recall the name. Oddly, it probably should bother her more than it did.
All right, it did bother her. She didn't have any hard evidence, but she had the distinct feeling that there was something everyone else knew and wasn't telling her. She'd gone through all the possibilities: she was a maid and had taken a fall down the stairs; she had fallen off a horse; she took a tumble during a tornado and cracked her skull and this was all a dream; she was a criminal and had murdered someone important.
The last was least-likely, as she did seem to have the freedom to walk around the place like she owned it. Well, there was always someone following her on her walks, and she was certain that someone's eyes were on her, even when she was alone. Of course, every time she turned, no one was around.
Thinking about it just made her head hurt. Shaking the thoughts away, she moved back over to the desk and frowned as she pulled the book closer. A quick glance at the page made her realize that she had no idea what had happened to that point, and starting a book in the middle was just stupid.
What she did remember, without question, was that the window seat in the hallway was not only well-lit for reading, but rather comfortable. Holding her finger tight to the page, she closed the book and turned to the door. Unfortunately, she misjudged her swing and slammed the book against the side of the dresser.
The book hit the floor with a thunk and her hand shook from the sting of the impact. As her brow crinkled, realizing that she'd lost her place, she huffed and leaned over to pick up the book. As she cursed the lost page - and realized that she was probably the last one to reach that page and she was planning to start at the beginning anyway - a slip of paper falling from the back of the book caught her attention.
She leaned down again and had to reach under the dresser to find the page. Her hand tapped the side of a box, and she had to reach her other hand under the dresser to pull it out. Sitting up, she leaned against the bed post and pulled the box to her side. She ran a hand over the top of the box but didn't open it. Instead, she unfolded the piece of paper.
You are DG.
You are the Queen of the Outer Zone. You died one time. You grew up in Kansas.
You are DG.
Your mother had purple eyes. Your sister was Azkadellia. Glitch and Raw are your best friends.
You are DG.
You have a wonderful husband. You have a beautiful daughter.
YOU ARE DG.
Shaking her head, she let the page refold and lifted the box up to the bed, then stood and climbed onto the mattress. Opening the box, she smiled at some of the trinkets inside the box: a stone, a little person made of twigs, a button. Spotting a leather-bound book, she pulled it free and stared, wide-eyed at the sketches in the book. Some had color - one, in particular, had a definite purple hue in the eyes and the dress - and some were still rough.
As she flipped to the back of the book, she noted that some of the images were half-finished, as if the subject simply walked away, mid-sketch. Frowning, she flipped back to the front of the book and noticed that some of the faces were actually labeled: Glitch, Dad, Jeb and Cain- The man in the sketch... she knew him. She saw him every day.
He always seemed to be just where she was.
There was a stack of photos, she noticed, shoved along the side of the box. Pulling them out, she was able to match some of the faces to those in the sketches. There was another of Cain, Cain and Glitch, Cain and a young girl - she looked very familiar - and one of two women; one with lavender eyes and the other-
Looking up from the photo, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The woman in the mirror was the woman in the photo. Granted, the woman in the mirror had many years on the photo. Blinking, she looked back down to the photos. There were half a dozen photos of an infant, a toddler and a young girl. Flipping back to the first photos, she realized that the girl was the same one in the photo with that Cain fella.
For whatever reason, she thumbed the last photo out and set the stack aside. Looking down at the picture in her lap, she saw the woman from the mirror, Cain and the girl. They looked happy. A knot had formed in her stomach - as if her brain was still catching up to what the rest of her body already knew.
Turning the picture over, she saw four words: Wyatt, Leigh and DG