To Sleep, Perchance (Tin Man) PG
Hey, look! Mhal writes a story about a misunderstood girl. The shock...
To Sleep, Perchance
A Tin Man story
by mhalachaiswords
Summary: Azkadellia can't stop the nightmares.
Disclaimer: Tin Man and characters belong to the Sci Fi channel, not I.
Rating: PG
Words: 2,650
Note: My new year's resolution is to write. So, here is writing. In a new fandom!
~~~
The sorceress was dead. Freedom and light and angels had returned to the O.Z.
Azkadellia could not sleep.
She did not need to. She knew what waited for her in her slumbers. And she knew, no matter how hard she would scream, no help would come for her.
This was not fancy, nor the words of the sorceress.
This was truth. For fifteen annuals, it did not matter how hard she screamed.
Help never came to her.
~~~
Full dark.
The suns had set, the O.Z. lay as quiet as it ever did. The longcoats were on the run; the remnants of a magical coup d'etat breathing its last in the forests.
Central City was never silent, even in the night. Far below her open window, parties continued 'til first dawn, fights, riots, as people finally felt safe enough to lash out against the memory of oppression.
Azkadellia knew that which the people raged against. She had been there at the conception of an empire’s destruction. She had seen the O.Z. fall, inch by inch, and a queen who had been unable to protect her people, hadn't been able to protect her--
Bile rising in her throat, Azkadellia scrambled off the couch in her darkened chamber. The palace's marble floor was ice cold and silent under her bare feet as she slipped through the door and down the corridor, down the stairs, down down down and it didn't make any difference.
She would never be able to outrun that which truly haunted her.
She had walked these halls as a child, DG only a few feet behind her. Father had used to joke that DG learned to walk almost before she learned to crawl, all to keep up with Azkadellia. Then the sorceress came, and DG went away, Father went away, and Mother--
Azkadellia rounded a corner and almost walked into a shadowy figure lurking in dark shadows. Thought and rationality vanished, leaving only dark in her mind, and in the darkness lay heart-stopping terror.
The figure stepped back into a shiver of light, hand moving to hip, a flash of tin, the scrape of metal on leather promising death and vengeance.
But DG's Tin Man stopped himself before his gun was more than halfway out its holster.
Azkadellia pressed herself against the cold wall, unable to move. For a moment, she had seen it in his eyes, the doubt, the wild press of danger, of loss, of hatred.
For a moment, she had seen in him what she saw in everyone. They looked at her and saw the sorceress, and Azkadellia now knew that would never change.
DG's Tin Man let out a low breath, and the moment was over. "I didn't hear you coming," he said. He pushed his revolver back into his holster and covered the gun with his coat. "I'm sorry."
Azkadellia couldn't remember how to speak. The wall was smooth under her hands, age-old marble unmarked by darkness, unable to feel, to fear. Cold, uncaring.
"Princess?" DG's Tin Man asked again. "Are you taken faint?"
The formal words fit ill in his mouth. He did not use such words with DG. With her, he spoke frankly, with sarcasm and humor and bitterness and respect. No one spoke to Azkadellia as if she were real, not anymore.
"Cain?" DG's voice floated down the hall. Azkadellia watched her sister approach through darkness, all determined gait and swinging limbs, curls limp against her shoulders. The girl's rough Other Side shoes clumped loud against the floor. "When did you get back? Why didn't you come see me, you big jerk?"
Only when DG drew level with her Tin Man did she see Azkadellia in the shadows. Instant concern crossed her face.
"Az? What are you doing down here?" DG stepped back, taking in the Tin Man's stance, then looked back to Azkadellia. "Okay, what's going on here?" Worry gave her voice force, and it echoed in Azkadellia's head. The force of her sister's honest emotion loosened Azkadellia's tongue.
"I wasn't looking where I was going and I almost ran into--" What was his name? What had DG called him? Why couldn't Azkadellia remember? "Into..."
"Cain," the Tin Man said, with quiet gravity. "Wyatt Cain, ma'am."
"She knows who you are," DG said in an undertone to the man.
The Tin Man-- no, Cain, glared at DG. He, a lowly Tin Man, daring to look such a way at a Princess! Even as a child, Azkadellia would never have tolerated such impertinence, but now, she would have given anything for such easy familiarity.
"You might want to get your sister back upstairs," Cain said to DG, his hand touching her elbow. "It's mighty cold in here."
"But you--"
"I'll see you tomorrow," Cain said. He stepped back. "Tend to your sister."
DG frowned at his words, but then she looked at Azkadellia again, and her eyes widened. "Geeze, Az, you must be freezing!" DG came over and took Azkadellia's arm. "And no shoes... Come on. Let's get you back up someplace where it's not so freaking frigid."
Glancing over DG's head at Cain, Azkadellia was startled to see the man touch the brim of his hat at her before vanishing once again into the darkness.
"...Don't know why they made everything out of rock like this," DG was saying as she guided Azkadellia firmly up the steps. "Back on Kansas, the floors were insulated linoleum with rugs everywhere, and we still almost froze every winter. Well, I did. Not sure about the old Nurture Units."
Azkadellia listened to the meaningless words wash over her, stories of a land she would never see, and she let her baby sister pull her through the halls.
DG stopped in front of the door to her chambers, across the hall from those of Azkadellia. "Want to come in for a few?" she asked. "I've got something that might take the chill off."
Azkadellia bowed her head, with the habit of annuals of blind unshakable obedience to one against whom she could not fight. She knew what she was doing and she hated it, herself, everything.
DG opened the door and pulled Azkadellia inside. In the grate blazed a merry fire, washing comfort over the room and the sisters. "Go sit in the big chair," DG ordered, still as bossy as when she was a child. "You go wandering these halls at night with no shoes or no shawl, you're going to turn into a big popsicle."
Half the words DG used, Azkadellia had never heard, and would never understand.
"And have you seen the size of this place?" DG continued, puttering around the room while Azkadellia seated herself on the edge of the worn armchair. "I took Glitch-- Ambrose, I mean, out for a tour this afternoon and we were walking for, like, ages, and this after hiking halfway across the O.Z. Makes those cross-country hikes with Girl Scouts seem a little pansy."
Azkadellia stared at the flames, sparkling red and yellow and blue over the driftwood from the edges of the magical lakes. Their mother had loved fires built with this driftwood. The night before Azkadellia's life had been stripped away, she had sat before such a fire, DG dozing at her side while Mother read them stories of the O.Z.
"Here," DG said, appearing at Azkadellia's side. She handed Azkadellia a glass filled with a splash of amber liquid. "It's for medicinal purposes, I swear."
Azkadellia took the glass from her sister, watching the firelight play through the crystal. "Where did you get this?" she asked.
DG plopped down on the hearthrug, a glass of her own balanced lightly in one hand. "I won it in a poker game with Dad."
"A what?"
"A card game, from the Other Side. He used to play it when he was back in Nebraska. Between you and me," DG said confidentially, "I think he let me win."
Azkadellia turned her head away from the flames, but memories followed her.
~~~
"I win!" Azkadellia exclaimed excitedly. "I win!"
Father laughed, ruffling her hair. "I always knew you'd be able to beat me at this game one day."
Azkadellia laughed too, because it was Father and he was the self-proclaimed checkers champion in all the O.Z., and she had just beaten him in a game. "Let's play again!"
"I don't know, champ." Father sat back in his chair. "You have a lot of packing tomorrow for your summer vacation."
Azkadellia pouted. "I'm almost done, except DG keeps getting in my way!"
"Now, you know you get in her way just as much." Father shook his head. "The two of you together are a pile of trouble."
"Just like you used to be?"
"Just like I used to be," Father agreed. His face grew grave. "Azkadellia, may I speak to you of a serious matter?"
Azkadellia sat up straight in her chair, as a princess should. "Of course, Father."
"You and DG will be away with your mother for some time," he said. "I wish I could go with you, but..." He sighed. "The last time you three went away, DG was just a baby and she couldn't move very fast. That’s changed now."
Azkadellia wondered if this was the right time to bring up how DG had spilled ink all over Azkadellia's favorite book, but she decided that, as a Princess, she would take the high ground.
"I'd like you to do me a favor, Azkadellia."
"What favor?"
"I need you to keep an eye out for DG. She needs someone to protect her while you two are out running wild. You're almost thirteen annuals now, and smart as a whip. If DG has you looking out for her... well, I couldn't ask for a better protector."
Azkadellia folded her hands in her lap. Father, who was so smart and so brave, was asking this of her! Of course she would watch out for DG, no matter where they were, but Father was asking.
But what kind of trouble could she and DG get into?
"What do you say, Azkadellia?"
Azkadellia swallowed, a tiny shiver running down her spine. "What if I think there's going to be trouble?" she had to ask.
Father seemed surprised that she asked. "Why, you run and go get your mother. The most powerful Queen the O.Z. has seen in centuries, there isn't anything that would stand against her."
Feeling a little silly, Azkadellia smiled. "Of course. And yes, I'll watch out for DG. She's only a little girl, after all."
Father smiled back. "That's my brave girl."
~~~
The glass was falling, crashing to earth. Azkadellia grabbed wildly, but her hand met DG's fingers instead.
"Hey, what's going on?" DG asked, all concern and panic, and Azkadellia could never tell, would never be able to explain that she hadn't been able to protect anyone, not DG, not the O.Z., nothing.
DG righted the glass on the hearthstone and wiped the liquid from Azkadellia's hands.
"Come on," DG said softly, and pulled Azkadellia off the chair to the rug, put her arm around her sister's shoulders, and held on tight as Azkadellia shook. "It'll be okay."
"No, it won't."
"Yes, it will be," said DG with the bossy assurance of a younger sister. "Because frankly, I think you've had it quite as bad as anything could ever be."
Azkadellia pressed her hands against her mouth, the scent of alcohol sharp in her head. "You don't know!"
"No, I don't." DG kissed Azkadellia's hair, the way she had as a child, all sloppy kisses and sticky hands and sharp elbows in Azkadellia's side. "I'm sorry I let go of your hand in the cave."
Azkadellia shoved DG away, crawled back on her hands until she hit the chair legs. "That's not it! You were never supposed to be the one protecting me!"
And in that instant, Azkadellia knew DG understood, pushed the memory of childhood away, and looked at her sister's past with adult eyes.
Their mother had been the most powerful Queen the O.Z. had seen in centuries, and she had not been able to save Azkadellia.
For this was the reason Azkadellia did not sleep. She knew what waited for her in her slumbers. And she knew, no matter how hard she would scream, no help would come for her. For fifteen annuals, it did not matter how hard she screamed.
Her mother never came to save her.
Another glass pressed into her hand, with more liquid than last time. "Here," DG said.
"Why?" Lost in ghosts of the past, Azkadellia had no idea how to survive in her present.
"Trust me."
And Azkadellia did, blindly and completely. She tipped the contents of the glass into her mouth, swallowed the alcohol down. The rush of false warmth brought her back to herself with a jerk.
DG set the empty glass to the side. "I knew there was a reason you were avoiding Mother."
"I'm not..."
"You totally are. For the past few days you've been pulling a Jimmy Hoffa whenever Mom’s in the room."
"A what?"
"Sorry. Making yourself scarce." DG's blue eyes were wide and so unlike the child she had been. "Can I make a suggestion?"
Azkadellia stared into the flames, not sure she wanted to hear what her grown-up sister would say.
"You might want to talk to her," DG continued awkwardly. "About this."
"No."
"Az--"
"No!"
"Azkadellia, damn it, listen!" DG got to her knees in front of her sister. "She didn't know. There is no way she could have known what happened and not tried to save you!"
"But--"
"Tell me," DG said, suddenly fierce with power. "She risked her life to save mine. Do you honestly think that she would have done any less for you? Honestly?"
Azkadellia curled up in a ball, head on her knees and hands clutching at her skirts. She couldn't breathe and couldn't hear over the chattering in her head.
She didn't know what to believe. Fifteen annuals of whispered lies from the sorceress, fifteen annuals of torments and violence and hatred, and she didn't know what could possibly be real anymore.
DG pressed up against Azkadellia's side, rubbing circles on her back. "Come on, it's past thirteen o'clock," she said softly. "You should get some sleep."
"No," Azkadellia said, jerking her head up. "No sleep, I'll dream..."
"Dreams can't hurt you," DG said. Even so, she shook her hair over her shoulder and smiled faintly. "We could talk instead."
"About what?"
"Princess stuff," DG said. "You know. Clothes and parties and all that. Do princesses really need all those clothes or are they just trying to torture me? Do they have balls around here or is that only the Disneyfication of royalty?"
Azkadellia watched the flames and remembered how to breathe, to speak, and it occurred her that DG might be right.
The days she now lived would never be as bad as the days in her past.
"They had balls and dances all the time," Azkadellia said slowly. "We used to stay up and watch the dances from the balcony."
"I think I remember that," DG said. "Mom always had the most wonderful dresses. Everyone wanted to dance with her."
"They did." Azkadellia glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye. "And you are very like her in that way."
"What?" DG frowned. "You're cracked. No one's going to want to dance with me."
"Your Tin Man might."
DG's eyebrows shot up. "Cain? You are totally cracked! He's, like, totally not interested in me."
"He followed you across the O.Z. on nothing but faith," Azkadellia reminded her, feeling quite bold.
"Yeah, but..." DG blushed. "You really think so?"
As the conversation wound around the room, into the shadows and through the flames, Azkadellia felt the ice within her chest start to weaken, just a little. Things were not better and they would never be the same, but maybe DG was right.
Things would never be as bad as they had once been in the O.Z.
end
To Sleep, Perchance
A Tin Man story
by mhalachaiswords
Summary: Azkadellia can't stop the nightmares.
Disclaimer: Tin Man and characters belong to the Sci Fi channel, not I.
Rating: PG
Words: 2,650
Note: My new year's resolution is to write. So, here is writing. In a new fandom!
~~~
The sorceress was dead. Freedom and light and angels had returned to the O.Z.
Azkadellia could not sleep.
She did not need to. She knew what waited for her in her slumbers. And she knew, no matter how hard she would scream, no help would come for her.
This was not fancy, nor the words of the sorceress.
This was truth. For fifteen annuals, it did not matter how hard she screamed.
Help never came to her.
~~~
Full dark.
The suns had set, the O.Z. lay as quiet as it ever did. The longcoats were on the run; the remnants of a magical coup d'etat breathing its last in the forests.
Central City was never silent, even in the night. Far below her open window, parties continued 'til first dawn, fights, riots, as people finally felt safe enough to lash out against the memory of oppression.
Azkadellia knew that which the people raged against. She had been there at the conception of an empire’s destruction. She had seen the O.Z. fall, inch by inch, and a queen who had been unable to protect her people, hadn't been able to protect her--
Bile rising in her throat, Azkadellia scrambled off the couch in her darkened chamber. The palace's marble floor was ice cold and silent under her bare feet as she slipped through the door and down the corridor, down the stairs, down down down and it didn't make any difference.
She would never be able to outrun that which truly haunted her.
She had walked these halls as a child, DG only a few feet behind her. Father had used to joke that DG learned to walk almost before she learned to crawl, all to keep up with Azkadellia. Then the sorceress came, and DG went away, Father went away, and Mother--
Azkadellia rounded a corner and almost walked into a shadowy figure lurking in dark shadows. Thought and rationality vanished, leaving only dark in her mind, and in the darkness lay heart-stopping terror.
The figure stepped back into a shiver of light, hand moving to hip, a flash of tin, the scrape of metal on leather promising death and vengeance.
But DG's Tin Man stopped himself before his gun was more than halfway out its holster.
Azkadellia pressed herself against the cold wall, unable to move. For a moment, she had seen it in his eyes, the doubt, the wild press of danger, of loss, of hatred.
For a moment, she had seen in him what she saw in everyone. They looked at her and saw the sorceress, and Azkadellia now knew that would never change.
DG's Tin Man let out a low breath, and the moment was over. "I didn't hear you coming," he said. He pushed his revolver back into his holster and covered the gun with his coat. "I'm sorry."
Azkadellia couldn't remember how to speak. The wall was smooth under her hands, age-old marble unmarked by darkness, unable to feel, to fear. Cold, uncaring.
"Princess?" DG's Tin Man asked again. "Are you taken faint?"
The formal words fit ill in his mouth. He did not use such words with DG. With her, he spoke frankly, with sarcasm and humor and bitterness and respect. No one spoke to Azkadellia as if she were real, not anymore.
"Cain?" DG's voice floated down the hall. Azkadellia watched her sister approach through darkness, all determined gait and swinging limbs, curls limp against her shoulders. The girl's rough Other Side shoes clumped loud against the floor. "When did you get back? Why didn't you come see me, you big jerk?"
Only when DG drew level with her Tin Man did she see Azkadellia in the shadows. Instant concern crossed her face.
"Az? What are you doing down here?" DG stepped back, taking in the Tin Man's stance, then looked back to Azkadellia. "Okay, what's going on here?" Worry gave her voice force, and it echoed in Azkadellia's head. The force of her sister's honest emotion loosened Azkadellia's tongue.
"I wasn't looking where I was going and I almost ran into--" What was his name? What had DG called him? Why couldn't Azkadellia remember? "Into..."
"Cain," the Tin Man said, with quiet gravity. "Wyatt Cain, ma'am."
"She knows who you are," DG said in an undertone to the man.
The Tin Man-- no, Cain, glared at DG. He, a lowly Tin Man, daring to look such a way at a Princess! Even as a child, Azkadellia would never have tolerated such impertinence, but now, she would have given anything for such easy familiarity.
"You might want to get your sister back upstairs," Cain said to DG, his hand touching her elbow. "It's mighty cold in here."
"But you--"
"I'll see you tomorrow," Cain said. He stepped back. "Tend to your sister."
DG frowned at his words, but then she looked at Azkadellia again, and her eyes widened. "Geeze, Az, you must be freezing!" DG came over and took Azkadellia's arm. "And no shoes... Come on. Let's get you back up someplace where it's not so freaking frigid."
Glancing over DG's head at Cain, Azkadellia was startled to see the man touch the brim of his hat at her before vanishing once again into the darkness.
"...Don't know why they made everything out of rock like this," DG was saying as she guided Azkadellia firmly up the steps. "Back on Kansas, the floors were insulated linoleum with rugs everywhere, and we still almost froze every winter. Well, I did. Not sure about the old Nurture Units."
Azkadellia listened to the meaningless words wash over her, stories of a land she would never see, and she let her baby sister pull her through the halls.
DG stopped in front of the door to her chambers, across the hall from those of Azkadellia. "Want to come in for a few?" she asked. "I've got something that might take the chill off."
Azkadellia bowed her head, with the habit of annuals of blind unshakable obedience to one against whom she could not fight. She knew what she was doing and she hated it, herself, everything.
DG opened the door and pulled Azkadellia inside. In the grate blazed a merry fire, washing comfort over the room and the sisters. "Go sit in the big chair," DG ordered, still as bossy as when she was a child. "You go wandering these halls at night with no shoes or no shawl, you're going to turn into a big popsicle."
Half the words DG used, Azkadellia had never heard, and would never understand.
"And have you seen the size of this place?" DG continued, puttering around the room while Azkadellia seated herself on the edge of the worn armchair. "I took Glitch-- Ambrose, I mean, out for a tour this afternoon and we were walking for, like, ages, and this after hiking halfway across the O.Z. Makes those cross-country hikes with Girl Scouts seem a little pansy."
Azkadellia stared at the flames, sparkling red and yellow and blue over the driftwood from the edges of the magical lakes. Their mother had loved fires built with this driftwood. The night before Azkadellia's life had been stripped away, she had sat before such a fire, DG dozing at her side while Mother read them stories of the O.Z.
"Here," DG said, appearing at Azkadellia's side. She handed Azkadellia a glass filled with a splash of amber liquid. "It's for medicinal purposes, I swear."
Azkadellia took the glass from her sister, watching the firelight play through the crystal. "Where did you get this?" she asked.
DG plopped down on the hearthrug, a glass of her own balanced lightly in one hand. "I won it in a poker game with Dad."
"A what?"
"A card game, from the Other Side. He used to play it when he was back in Nebraska. Between you and me," DG said confidentially, "I think he let me win."
Azkadellia turned her head away from the flames, but memories followed her.
~~~
"I win!" Azkadellia exclaimed excitedly. "I win!"
Father laughed, ruffling her hair. "I always knew you'd be able to beat me at this game one day."
Azkadellia laughed too, because it was Father and he was the self-proclaimed checkers champion in all the O.Z., and she had just beaten him in a game. "Let's play again!"
"I don't know, champ." Father sat back in his chair. "You have a lot of packing tomorrow for your summer vacation."
Azkadellia pouted. "I'm almost done, except DG keeps getting in my way!"
"Now, you know you get in her way just as much." Father shook his head. "The two of you together are a pile of trouble."
"Just like you used to be?"
"Just like I used to be," Father agreed. His face grew grave. "Azkadellia, may I speak to you of a serious matter?"
Azkadellia sat up straight in her chair, as a princess should. "Of course, Father."
"You and DG will be away with your mother for some time," he said. "I wish I could go with you, but..." He sighed. "The last time you three went away, DG was just a baby and she couldn't move very fast. That’s changed now."
Azkadellia wondered if this was the right time to bring up how DG had spilled ink all over Azkadellia's favorite book, but she decided that, as a Princess, she would take the high ground.
"I'd like you to do me a favor, Azkadellia."
"What favor?"
"I need you to keep an eye out for DG. She needs someone to protect her while you two are out running wild. You're almost thirteen annuals now, and smart as a whip. If DG has you looking out for her... well, I couldn't ask for a better protector."
Azkadellia folded her hands in her lap. Father, who was so smart and so brave, was asking this of her! Of course she would watch out for DG, no matter where they were, but Father was asking.
But what kind of trouble could she and DG get into?
"What do you say, Azkadellia?"
Azkadellia swallowed, a tiny shiver running down her spine. "What if I think there's going to be trouble?" she had to ask.
Father seemed surprised that she asked. "Why, you run and go get your mother. The most powerful Queen the O.Z. has seen in centuries, there isn't anything that would stand against her."
Feeling a little silly, Azkadellia smiled. "Of course. And yes, I'll watch out for DG. She's only a little girl, after all."
Father smiled back. "That's my brave girl."
~~~
The glass was falling, crashing to earth. Azkadellia grabbed wildly, but her hand met DG's fingers instead.
"Hey, what's going on?" DG asked, all concern and panic, and Azkadellia could never tell, would never be able to explain that she hadn't been able to protect anyone, not DG, not the O.Z., nothing.
DG righted the glass on the hearthstone and wiped the liquid from Azkadellia's hands.
"Come on," DG said softly, and pulled Azkadellia off the chair to the rug, put her arm around her sister's shoulders, and held on tight as Azkadellia shook. "It'll be okay."
"No, it won't."
"Yes, it will be," said DG with the bossy assurance of a younger sister. "Because frankly, I think you've had it quite as bad as anything could ever be."
Azkadellia pressed her hands against her mouth, the scent of alcohol sharp in her head. "You don't know!"
"No, I don't." DG kissed Azkadellia's hair, the way she had as a child, all sloppy kisses and sticky hands and sharp elbows in Azkadellia's side. "I'm sorry I let go of your hand in the cave."
Azkadellia shoved DG away, crawled back on her hands until she hit the chair legs. "That's not it! You were never supposed to be the one protecting me!"
And in that instant, Azkadellia knew DG understood, pushed the memory of childhood away, and looked at her sister's past with adult eyes.
Their mother had been the most powerful Queen the O.Z. had seen in centuries, and she had not been able to save Azkadellia.
For this was the reason Azkadellia did not sleep. She knew what waited for her in her slumbers. And she knew, no matter how hard she would scream, no help would come for her. For fifteen annuals, it did not matter how hard she screamed.
Her mother never came to save her.
Another glass pressed into her hand, with more liquid than last time. "Here," DG said.
"Why?" Lost in ghosts of the past, Azkadellia had no idea how to survive in her present.
"Trust me."
And Azkadellia did, blindly and completely. She tipped the contents of the glass into her mouth, swallowed the alcohol down. The rush of false warmth brought her back to herself with a jerk.
DG set the empty glass to the side. "I knew there was a reason you were avoiding Mother."
"I'm not..."
"You totally are. For the past few days you've been pulling a Jimmy Hoffa whenever Mom’s in the room."
"A what?"
"Sorry. Making yourself scarce." DG's blue eyes were wide and so unlike the child she had been. "Can I make a suggestion?"
Azkadellia stared into the flames, not sure she wanted to hear what her grown-up sister would say.
"You might want to talk to her," DG continued awkwardly. "About this."
"No."
"Az--"
"No!"
"Azkadellia, damn it, listen!" DG got to her knees in front of her sister. "She didn't know. There is no way she could have known what happened and not tried to save you!"
"But--"
"Tell me," DG said, suddenly fierce with power. "She risked her life to save mine. Do you honestly think that she would have done any less for you? Honestly?"
Azkadellia curled up in a ball, head on her knees and hands clutching at her skirts. She couldn't breathe and couldn't hear over the chattering in her head.
She didn't know what to believe. Fifteen annuals of whispered lies from the sorceress, fifteen annuals of torments and violence and hatred, and she didn't know what could possibly be real anymore.
DG pressed up against Azkadellia's side, rubbing circles on her back. "Come on, it's past thirteen o'clock," she said softly. "You should get some sleep."
"No," Azkadellia said, jerking her head up. "No sleep, I'll dream..."
"Dreams can't hurt you," DG said. Even so, she shook her hair over her shoulder and smiled faintly. "We could talk instead."
"About what?"
"Princess stuff," DG said. "You know. Clothes and parties and all that. Do princesses really need all those clothes or are they just trying to torture me? Do they have balls around here or is that only the Disneyfication of royalty?"
Azkadellia watched the flames and remembered how to breathe, to speak, and it occurred her that DG might be right.
The days she now lived would never be as bad as the days in her past.
"They had balls and dances all the time," Azkadellia said slowly. "We used to stay up and watch the dances from the balcony."
"I think I remember that," DG said. "Mom always had the most wonderful dresses. Everyone wanted to dance with her."
"They did." Azkadellia glanced at her sister out of the corner of her eye. "And you are very like her in that way."
"What?" DG frowned. "You're cracked. No one's going to want to dance with me."
"Your Tin Man might."
DG's eyebrows shot up. "Cain? You are totally cracked! He's, like, totally not interested in me."
"He followed you across the O.Z. on nothing but faith," Azkadellia reminded her, feeling quite bold.
"Yeah, but..." DG blushed. "You really think so?"
As the conversation wound around the room, into the shadows and through the flames, Azkadellia felt the ice within her chest start to weaken, just a little. Things were not better and they would never be the same, but maybe DG was right.
Things would never be as bad as they had once been in the O.Z.
end