Letter Read Chapter 1: Annual One, a tin man fanfic

Title: Letter Read
Author: Vashti
Character(s): DG, Cain, mentions of everyone, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a distant future, all that will be left for one of Queen Dorothigale's descendants are letters read.
Length: 9,508 words
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way. The title is from Rachael Yamagata's "Letter Read". The idea that "Dorothigale" is long for DG comes from chibikaz, who's work you can find on and livejournal.
Author's Notes: This is a work in progress. I have a vague idea of where it's going (always essential to one of my stories) but I don't know how or when or how fast it's going to get there. If for some strange reason you happen to like, please feel free to poke me at will if/when I slow down. Please also feel free to spot-beta as need be. And if it starts getting scary you can even suggest I get an actual beta. meep! However, if you see a screwed up word followed directly by the correct spelling...that's not letting me use strikethroughs.
AN2: "Annual" numbers correspond to years since the Cains left the service of the royal family.
AN3: My thanks to everyone on ohzeebooks community over at livejournal. Your comments will be helping for far into the future :D

Letter Read
by Vashti

Chapter 1: Annual One

January 4th

Dear Mr. Cain,

It really sucks that you had to go. I mean I understand and all. You've got your own life to live, a son to catch up with…eyebrows to regrow. It's just that after a year of seeing the same faces just about everyday, you get used to them, y'know? As bad as it was when Raw left only three weeks after the Eclipse, I shoulda known this would suck way bigger. Bigger? Worse? Whatever. The point is you were around a lot longer and the OZ doesn't have, oh, cell phones or the internet or AIM. Because that would rock. Or if you would just run a landline up from town to your house, that could work, too. Because I bet that even if the OZ did have the other stuff, you personally wouldn't. I'd have to keep up with you through Jeb. Heck, I'll probably have to keep up with you through Jeb anyway. Ha!

Anyway, so, like I said….this suck royally, and not just because I'm a princess. Everyone misses you. Okay so mostly me and Glitch (Ambrose…whatever) and the other guards. Particularly my new bodyguards. They want to know how you did it without pulling out your hair. And by yourself no less. I told them that you actually shaved it once just so you wouldn't look weird and Glitch wouldn't feel so bad about being bald, which they weren't too thrilled about seeing as how you got me an all female detailed. Now don't get mad. There were a dozen witnesses and you know it.

Did I mention that I was sorry about your eyebrows still not growing back? *scans top of letter* Whoops! Forgot about that. Sorry!! Look at it this way, though, you'll probably never have to shave again. That's a plus, right?

Oh, and the little starry asterixy things? That's to indicate actions. Which you'd know if the OZ had the internet or AIM or even text messaging. Okay maybe not with texting but…. You've already skipped this paragraph haven't you? Moving on.

Um…gee…kinda out of words to say. Don't you laugh at me, Mr. Cain. I've run out of stuff to say before, plenty of times. Just usually not for very long. And it's not like you've been gone all that long or anything. Anything big that happened here in Central City would have made the news even by you by now. And, yeah, I realize that this isn't exactly a long letter or anything (Mother read this part over my shoulder and walked away trying her best not to laugh. Sweet woman.) but in the land of email this is practically a novel. Maybe next time I'll actually make it to a whole other page.

Oh, y'know, if I ramble on for a little bit here or add a P.S. I bet I can at least turn the page over. Think I can do it? Of course if I just cheat and write really big that would work too. This is kinda like being in school and have to write a 5 page paper, except on the Other Side you don't actually write them out long hand (except for if you're still in grade school, but maybe not even then anymore the way computers are taking over) you type it all up. Then of course you only make it to about 3 and half pages so you have to start messing with the margins and type font and…

And your eyes just glazed over again didn't they. I don't need to see it to know it's happening, I can feel it from here.

Hey! Look! Back of page. Now that I have reached my goal, I can now end the letter. Next time I'll try for substantial. Mother just walked by again. This time she laughed.

*sigh*

Miss You,

P.S. Say hi to Jeb and Amalie! I'd say send pictures but you'd just look at me, and my letter, like I have two heads. It's not my fault you're all anti.

Send sketches!

1/18

Hey Princess, miss you too.

You're right. Never was much for writing. Drove Adora crazy. Made my superior happy. Short reports.

You're wrong about Jeb. Takes after his old man. Drives Amalie crazy, too. Scrap that fell out? Jeb. Novel's from Amalie. A "short note" of thanks for the party. Imagine a real letter. There's something a mite shorter for the Queen and your sister. I trust you'll get it to them.

Give my hellos to Glitch and Raw, your parents and sister. Everyone.

-Wyatt Cain

P.S. Still not having to shave thanks to you. Do miss the eyebrows, though.

February 1st

Dear Mr. Cain,

No more references to the missing eyebrows, kay? You're really freaking out the bodyguards. I mean what do you mean they still haven't grown back?! Glitch's eyebrows (and facial hair) had grown in by the time you left. Of course he shaved it to match yours. Okay, but his hair grew back and that came off in the same lab experiment-gone-wrong that got you. You'd figure eyebrows (and facial hair) which is so much smaller than the rest of your head would have come back by now. So far I've been telling them (the guards) that it takes a long time for mail to get from one end of the OZ to the other and that, by now, you've got a beard to rival Rip van Winkle (dude who slept for a ridiculously long time in an Other Side fairytale. Just work with me.) and your eyebrows need mini-lawn mowers to keep'em down. Definitely Glitch's hair is all whoa nelly. He won't let me have my wicked way with it though. Basically he said, "I got a reputation to maintain, dollface, even if I knows that you know better and barrettes and epaulettes clash." So, basically, I'm not sure if he was worried about his fashion sense or his sense of importance at court. If you're saying both, then I think I'll have to agree with you, Tin Man.

Anyway, I noticed you failed to mention how things were going in Middle of Nowhere, OZ. I must have been griping about it too much during lessons 'cause Tutor was all "If you want to know how things are in the Western regions, Princess DG, then use your magic to find out!" He was all snap-y about it, too. But earlier than usual. I'm tempted to be a little proud of myself, y'know, getting better at getting him to lose it, except I feel bad about being so annoying. So I'm kinda stuck. Az, on the other hand, doesn't know whether to be amused or really amused. Mostly she tells me not to worry about it. "Tutor was high strung when we were children. He's not going to change now." Except when we were kids I was even worse.

If you hear about Tutor having a coronary, you know why.

Suddenly miserable,

2/17

DG,

Tutor was born a grumpy old man, or dog. Take your sister's advice. If she can find it amusing, you should too. You'll have plenty of time to be concerned about how every move you make affects the public later.

And if Tutor survived you as a child, I'm sure his heart's not going anywhere. On the other hand if your mother the Queen asks you about my advice, I told you to be more considerate and dedicated to your studies. Which you should be, but don't overdo it.

-Wyatt Cain

P.S. Thanks for not…y'know…by the way. We appreciate it. Sketches are enclosed.

March 2nd

Dear Mr. Cain,

I'm writing because it's my turn and I've been a slacker loser about responding to your letter and Mother's been giving me the evil eye. The mominator (don't ask) isn't much better. Actually I'm half afraid they're gonna join forces and double-team me. It's a scary thought.

Not that you gave me a whole lot to work with, mister! What was that, a 100 words tops? Just b/c you do taciturn well doesn't mean you, like, have to. It's called a letter, not a brief note. I mean you don't have to pull a Amalie (letter? More like a novel!), but I swear your fingers will not drop off if you make it to the end of the page.

Aaaaand I just checked with Az. She assures me that, as far as she knows, including drawing on some really unpleasant memories from the Witch, there are no spells that'll make your fingers fall off if you reach the end of the page. So how about giving it a try. You know like how when your mom makes something you've never had or you go out to eat and there's like, some crazy fried rings on the plate that look like onion rings but they're calling it calamari and you want to know if it'll kill you or not? What does your mother always say? Try it, you might like it. At least that's the trick Mom always pulled on me. Pop just kinda nodded his head and tucked in, or told us some crazy story about eating live octopus in Seoul or something. Which, by the way…calamari? Yay. Live squid octopus? Sooo not going there. Can you imagine it fighting you while you're trying to swallow? According to the Popsicle they're mini, but that's even worse. I can hear the medical report now: First ever internal asphyxiation. Bleh. I'm all for not and saying we did.

So, um…I guess that's it. If you're looking at this wondering if I really sat down just so I could rant at you, then I guess the answer's yes 'cause I'm done :Þ Your turn bu-ddy.

Sincerely,

P.S. Please give all my love to Jeb and Meli. Tell'em to hurry up with the kids. I want non-cousins to spoil rotten!

P.P.S Mother and Father and Az and Glitch say hi. I haven't heard from Raw in a while, but I'm deciding to go with no news is good news.

P.P.P.S (yes I think this is ridiculous too, but Shane insisted) The bodyguards would like to know if you're "amenable to a retreat in which you will show us the knack of keeping up with the Princess and her ability to slip through a crack too small for water." Seriously, I'm not that bad.

3/14

Princess,

We've seen Raw and his. They passed our way briefly. He's doing well. They might be in the Finaqua way soon as not.

I've had live octopus. Trick is to kill it before it kills you. Ask your father. Both of them.

Yes, Shane and Terry-Ann can come up this way. So long as their replacements are their equal. Ones they think would pass muster with me. Ask Ahamo. Because yes, Princess, you are that bad. I'm lucky to be alive.

No my fingers will not fall off I write something longer. But Hell'd freeze over. So I've been told.

-Cain

March 16th

Dear Mr. Cain,

You have to save me! Right now. It's throw-DG-to-the-wolves season! Yes…the Royal Balls. And the Not So Royal Balls. And the You And Az Need To Put In An Appearance At Least, Dear balls. Then there's the after-parties.

Shoot me. Shoot me dead. Shoot me dead and let me die.

Sincerely,

3/31

Princess,

Why do you think I left?

Amalie says she has envy, whatever she means by that.

Jeb says it serves you right for making him wear a tux to his wedding.

And I can't kill you. I took an oath and I made a promise. And I agree with Jeb.

Have fun.

Cain

April 12th

Dear Mr. Cain,

I can't remember if it's my turn or not (probably) but since you missed the first Ball of Doom I figured I might as well fill you in anyway.

Disaster! Tragedy! Dooooom!

Okay, maybe not "tragedy" or "doom" and definitely not with all those o's (actually once I started looping the o's it…well it was easy to get carried away is all), but definitely a disaster. Do not believe the note that Az is bound to put in with my letter that it was not, in fact, a disaster. Just because the roof didn't cave in and we weren't attacked by renegade Longcoats doesn't mean that it still wasn't an horrible horrible event that could have been avoided. How you ask (even if you're not asking)? By not having the ball of course.

First: they made me wear a dress. Yes, I know, I actually wear them sorta kinda vaguely regularly, but only when Mother makes me or we're having fancy folk over— And I can hear you saying "Ball is full of fancy folk, kiddo." If you're seeing me making a face at you then we're on the same page because I am, buddy. I so am.

Anyway…dress of doom. I won't deny that it was pretty, I just would have thought it was prettier on someone else. Az for example. When I tried to push it off on her, though, she was all "My chest is too buxom for me to fit into a dress intended for you, little sister." When I tried to push it off on Mother she pointed out that "It clashes with my eyes, dear heart." Which was her democratic way of saying her dress was prettier.

Say it with me: Grr. Argh. (Which, by the way, you do really well. I've roped Glitch into saying it with me but he's always on the verge of laughing when he does it, which makes me giggle and then he really does laugh and, well, you can see how it's not the same.)

I'm going to spare you a description of the dress, except to say…sleeveless! Strapless! Okay so there was a really pretty (really outrageously pretty) wrap that went with it, and I clung to it the way you hold on to that hat, but I knew that I didn't have proper sleeves. And trying to appeal to Mom? No help. She went off to find the Popsicle and a camera. Which she didn't need to find—the camera at least—because the Royal Photographer was, like, all over the freaking place. Everywhere I turned, blinding flash of light. At some point I stepped all over Aha Father's shoes. Of course that mortified the three turds who were preening and picking at their jesses, trying to get me to pick on of them to dance with, so that was alright. Heck, maybe I should have had the photographer follow me around and blind me every time the suitors decided to descend on mass. I'll keep in mind for next time.

Speaking of The Suitors (and as soon as I come up with the perfect snarky name for them, I am all over it) they made me want to pull my hair out. Which I couldn't because Elise went to sooo much trouble to get it sit up on my head and look all pretty (a problem that Az says she never has because her hair was scared into compliance a long time ago by the Witch. A statement that is both funny and a little heebie-jeebie.) So I couldn't pull my hair out, and with you not there to scare them away they were a huge contribution to the endless night of doom. I don't know if Mother sent out a notice that you weren't gonna be there, or maybe it was in the small print on the invitations, but, like, srsly, they were crowding around like hunting dogs that found the fox. Except, hello, I'm not a fox.

And hopefully "fox" doesn't have the same connotation here as it does on the Other Size Side.

Actually there was one bright spot in the entire ordeal. I met someone I could actually talk to like a normal person! I know. I'm shocked, too. Everyone else is Princess-DG-this and Your-Royal-Highness-that. I swear I'm just waiting for someone to get overbalanced by their big hair and go teapot over teakettle, or however you say "legs up in the air and underwear flashing." Yeah. I'm waiting for that to happen, because it so is! Do these people have no self-respect?

You know if I had a different kind of mother, say a robotic one, I'd have gotten slapped upside my head for that last one. As it is, I feel a lecture coming on. It's just…frustrating! Fine, I'm a princess. Hot stuff. I haven't played the part of a princess for the last fifteen years! Cycles. Whatever! I'm a grease monkey. Say it with me folks, grease monkey. And I'm totally cool with that. And I understand that I was born into the royal family and that automatically means I have certain responsibilities – I was raised on a farm, responsibility I understand – but does that mean I have suddenly become this new person to make everyone happy?

All right, rant over now. At least on paper. I'm gonna let my mirror have it later tonight.

But back to the decent person I met! So I'm running from the hounds and looking for a safe haven (basically Ah Father, Az or Glitch) which is not easy, can I tell you! It's not fair that I have to stand in the receiving line. It just gives everyone a chance to check out what I'm wearing which makes hiding later on much harder. I'm sure if I had a big strong Tin Man to hide behind…

Anyway, I did finally find Glitch who was talking to some guy who seemed to be pretty decent since he was making Glitch laugh. So Glitch spotted me and introduced us: "DG! Where've you been. Hey, meet Jason! Jason, you know DG right?" Which of course he did, and I probably had met him already but couldn't place him for the life of me. Didn't matter. He was great fun. Totally snarky and got my weird sense of humor, and was willing to run with the incomprehensible Other Side references with only mild looks of confusion. He too is waiting for someone to go falling over the next time they do one of those crazy extravagant bows. Aaaand he was willing to dance with me when the hounds finally found me and started circling. I know you're probably thinking he was just trying to make a move, but no way. He spotted Father, asked me if I'd rather go that-away and handed me off. The next time I saw him, he and Glitch were in a corner looking at some big scroll-y map-y thing. I think I have finally found a friend. Hello miracle. Not that I don't love all of you guys, and admittedly I had a pretty narrow circle of friends back on the Other Side, but I was starting to think I'd never find someone who'd treat me like a normal person. Not including Elise. Or Shane and Terry-Ann. Or the royal seamstress (but apparently she treats everyone like "an ill-mannered child" as Az put it). Oh and Glitch's lab assistants actually may not like me. I didn't tell you my most recent adventure did I? Next letter. It'd take waaaaaaay too long to go through here. And I'm not really sure if I'm allowed to talk about it.

Anyway, that's it for me. It's late. My feet hurt like you wouldn't believe, and Glitch refused to give me a piggy-back ride. (Father totally carried Mother upstairs. I'm jealous.)

Sincerely pooped,

April 19th

Dear Mr. Cain,

One week of grand balls down, another two to go. ANOTHER THREE TO GO! Lord love a duck, Shane heard me reading while writing (don't you laugh at me, Wyatt Cain) and corrected my selective memory. A month? Really? I don't remember all of this being a month long last year, do you? Or maybe I thought that was just b/c of all the, y'know, Aren't We All Glad That Things Are Sorta Back To Normal balls. No, apparently this is normal. Gag me with a spoon.

Well now that I have something new to freak out over…how's it going with you guys? I know the last letter hasn't gotten to you yet. I figure it takes about two weeks? So these two will be coming right on each other's heels, but I don't think I asked you about you at all in that one. It was more rant than letter. Sorry! I think I'm still more used to emails than snail mail…instant reply instead of monthly reply. I was gonna say you'd love email (Glitch would love email. He'd love the entire digital revolution. He'd totally be Keanu Reeves in that movie with a port in the back of his head that lets him store gobs and gobs of data. And if you had any idea what I was talking about, you would so agree with me.) but probably not. Too intrusive. The Mominator always complained that it was just something else to do. And, okay, on a working farm it is, but it was about the only way I could keep up with the couple of friends I had in high school who went away to college.

And that is the end of me moping.

Right, so, how were you again?

Tell Jeb and Amalie that I miss them. I miss anyone who could make Az laugh without looking like she was trying. It's like a big chunk of my family up and relocated without you guys here. If you guys could make it to the last week of the balls that'd be fab. I mean it's short notice and all but…

Anyway…

Sincerely not begging for reinforcements,

April 22nd

Dear Mr. Cain,

Welcome to the second week of balls. First one of the week is later tonight and I'm already dead on my feet. Why me? Oh, right, royal.

Gag.

More letter later after coffee.

~DG

I've had about three cups of coffee in the last hour. Between bouncing off the walls and running to the little girl's room every two seconds I am a wreck. Which I said out loud while the royal seamstress was fixing a hem I stepped on a couple of days ago, and she was all "More like a wrecking ball." I think I would have been offended if it wasn't true. And kinda funny. I laughed at least. Az was in the room but I don't think she heard. She's been finding all this stuff funny. And by all this stuff I mean me freaking out. I think last year she was having her own private freak out, but now that people have basically stopped trying to assassinate her, she's really relaxed. That or she's high on the…um…vapors? I can't exactly ask someone. Mention vapors and suddenly people start looking at you funny. Or asking you just how pure you want it. I've already gotten one footman fired, I don't want to know what anyone else does on their personal time even if it is turning their brain into swiss cheese.

Stop looking at this letter like that. If I know of anyone, I'll report them. What else am I supposed to do, start a covert operation to find out who's on or who's not? Isn't that like—

No. I'm stopping there. No getting mad at you when you haven't even actually glared at me yet. Omigod…I'm having a speculative argument! Is that good or bad?

Anyway…ball. Wish me something. Like the roof caving in.

Sincerely,

April 23rd

Dear Mr. Cain,

Jayson (with a Y!!!!) is a lifesaver. Between him and Glitch and Father, they basically managed to take your place. It's not the same with you giving everyone the evil eye over my head (don't deny it, I can feel it) but I had way more fun dancing with the three of them than I did dancing with everyone else. As expected Mother and Az kept making me talk to some of the hounds. Every now and then even Father passed me off to someone, but at least I felt like he was being a little more discriminatory. That whole stint in the Realm of the Unwanted has made him rather picky, his words not mine. Az, I think, is purposely putting me with the most awkward guys possible. Not one boring choice among any of her picks. Some I've wanted to strangle, sure, but no one boring. Don't worry, Glitch was hovering waiting to bust heads if anyone tried to get fresh. Well maybe bust heads is too strong. Do you remember that guy from…from… Uh! Me and my brain. I'll remember where he's from when I go down for my lessons, just watch. Anyway, remember the one you kept watching like a hawk at the Winter Ball when I asked you to stop being a "creepy stalker dude?" Glitch almost broke his hand! I swear I was going to do it first if he kept moving his hand to places where hands don't go during waltzes, but Glitch got to him first. Good riddance. I mean even if we were having a thing I don't want him feeling me up in front of my parents and friends and complete freaking strangers!!! Jerk.

Anyway, all I got for now. Are you guys still sending Amalie alllll that long way to the palace by her lonesome in time for the last ball of the season? I mean I know she's staying for a week, but don't you think she'll want an escort or something? *whistles innocently*

Sincerely,

P.S. in case you were wondering, I have no idea how much coffee I've had today (long night) but if this sounds hyper I'm pretty sure it's the platter full of cookies I polished off by myself. Mmm gingerbread.

4/30

Princess,

You have a talent for understatement, kiddo. Ambrose's letter was about 2 pages long. Do my old heart a favor: stay away from the jerk. Amalie has threatened bodily harm, to me, if she ends up wasting her trip visiting me in the Central City jail.

Otherwise, glad you're having fun. Give Jayson my hellos.

-Cain

P.S. You really sure it's Jayson with a Y?

5/1

Princess,

Bound and determined to get a long letter out of me, aren't you? Fine. You win. This time. Don't plan on sending multiple letters all at once working again.

So…

Already said my piece about Jayson, and about the Lord Jerk and won't go into again.

The Dress: I'm sure you were beautiful. In all of your dresses. I can't imagine either the Queen or your sister would let you out in public looking anything less.

The Suitors: It might help if you keep a pistol in your purse. Unloaded. You just want to scandalize'em, not cause an incident. If you do it, this is not advice you got from me.

The Nobility: You're the Crown Princess. Short of bankrupting the country and not letting them in on it, there's not much you can do that they won't get over pretty quick. 'Course as I'm reviewing your letters I don't see that you mentioned them at all. But I'd be surprised they weren't on your mind.

Fifteen years, cycles, whatever: They're called annuals, sweetheart. And no one's expecting you to change overnight. Maybe in their heart of hearts, but I think most are just happy to have you home and see that you're trying. Your family loves you and your people love you. There's neither one that won't give you the time you need. But you've got to remember your own words. It's been fifteen annuals, kid. Even if you remembered your entire childhood, that's all it was. Just your childhood. You did all your growing on the Other Side. Now you've got to learn to do your living here. If that's what you've set yourself to do. And it seems like it is.

"Fox": Used to call Adora that all the time.

Your father's choice in men: Ahamo's a good man and trustworthy. He's only got your best interest at heart and always has. If you find yourself startin' to think on someone with any kind of seriousness, I'd run'im by him. I'm not sayin' every guy he pushes on you is going to be Mr. Perfect, but I doubt you'll need to pull a firearm on him either.

Your sister's choice in men: Older siblings have a perverse sense of humor when it comes to their younger sibling's relationships. Least that's how it was in my family. Keep the firearm handy.

Us: Jeb and Amalie are all right, though I expect you know that already I didn't know mail could move across the Zone that fast. Spring's coming so things are starting to bloom, crops are starting to poke their heads up outta the ground and folks around here generally start getting itchy. I keep getting ready to give the kids advice but then they work it out before I'm even sure of what the problem is. Two years just hasn't been enough time.

Unsolicited advice: Lay off the sugar.

-Cain

May 13th

Dear Mr. Cain,

It's a good thing you send your letters (two!) with Amalie or we would have totally crossed in the mail. Heck, I'd still be waiting another couple of days by my math. And it probably helps that I sent your letters with Ami's package because you'd still be waiting for your set. Really if you weren't so dead set against magical delivery this whole letter exchange could take a couple of days (it's takes me a while to remember to send) instead of a couple of weeks. But fine, whatever, what do I know.

And lay off the sugar, my left foot! It's caffeine or sugar (I'm not allowed to have both anymore except in my first cup of joe) and there's no way I'm making it through the day without one or the other.

So as you probably know already I was sick. Sick! I'll have you know that the roborents had me immunized against measles, mumps and rubella, and then I actually managed to avoid getting chicken pox, don't ask me how, only to come here and get, like, the OZ version of same. Why do I say the OZ version of the dreaded pox? Because when it came out in my last year of junior high that I'd never had the pox the high school wouldn't let me in without getting a vaccine. Which, of course, I got despite assuring my parents the 'rents that I didn't really need any more schooling than what I could learn in a garage. A vaccine that I lost an entire weekend too, please let me add. Why? Because, apparently, I'm mildly allergic to the chicken pox vaccine and so it made my upper arm swell up like a nerf baseball bat. Or a club. Or whatever inordinately large stick-y thingy you guys have over here. Don't you have baseball? I could have sworn I saw Father and bunch one of the courtiers sitting around talking about runs and stuff. Do they have runs in cricket? Geez that just sounds wrong.

Anyway, the point is I suffered for that stupid chicken pox vaccine. Only to get the pox here!!! Argh! Grr! Some days it seems like nothing about the Zone is working in my favor.

On the other hand I did get to miss out on the closing ball of the season. You have no idea how relieved I was. Okay, maybe you have a very small idea, but the full impression of my joy and…and…overwhelming happiness was big. Huge. I mean by then I'd gotten the OZ version of a vaccine (Mother's light-enhanced hand on my forehead and a kiss, and some chicken soup from the Mominator just to make sure it all stuck) which was so much better than the Other Side version. Did I mention that the same weekend I had the monster-arm, my best friend's family came to visit and her evil cousin punched me in the monster-arm? If I had been able to stand up straight I would have laid him out. As it was I had to wait until the end of summer when his family came back around.

Anyway, back to the story: So…missed the closing ball, got fussed over by two moms in a good way, got to spend major quality time with everyone (except you and Jeb, you big…annoying people) and only had a temperature of 100 degrees for a day or two. It was great!

I'm guessing you don't want to hear about me and Amalie hanging out together before I came down with the OZ-pox, so I'll spare you that. Um…what else…? Introduced Ami to Jayson when we went down to see Glitch (his lab staff is still unhappy with me. You blow up one lab and ruin a handful of ongoing experiments and suddenly you're persona get-outta). She thought he was okay when she could understand what he was talking about. I'm telling you, I don't know who's going to be more sad when Jayson has to back to wherever it is that he comes from: him or Glitch. I would have added myself to the list, b/c you can never have enough safe ports in a storm, but now that dancing season's over I can back down my attachment a notch or four.

Of course, if dancing season's over you're probably wondering what the heck Jayson's still doing in town. I actually don't know. But his dad and brother's still here, so maybe they stayed for, like, official stuff. And you know all sorts of things go on in Central City during the Spring and Summer. Maybe they have rounds to make or something. I swear I do not remember him existing before this year. Oh well. Like he said, it was his brother that was foisted off on me last year so this was probably our first time, like, seriously meeting and talking and stuff. Luckily his brother's this close to getting married to some noble or other (whose name I should probably know) and thus I'm saved.

Um, what else?

I'm finally starting to feel better. Amalie was great, fantastic company. But it only made me miss the Cain men more so you and Jeb have to gout get out of your little corner of the universe and come back and see us! I'm not the only one who misses you, y'know. I'm sure there's a whole contingent of Tin Men who miss you. And don't think I don't know that the letters Shane sends you every week are full of "How in the world did you handle her? Where do we go wrong? Why do you hate us so much?" I know Shane and Terry-Ann really appreciated that week they got to spend training with you (really, am I that bad?) but I bet the other guards would like some Cain-quality time too.

Great, I'm starting to sound like a really pitiful brochure. "Come see lovely Central City. We miss you. We need you. Save us from psychotic princesses!"

Sincerely,

5/16

DG,

Nothing's wrong with the Ozian mail.

Amalie told us all about "the pox." Sounds like you're a miserable patient, kid, despite all the "good" mothering you got.

The kids appreciate the pictures. Jeb and Amalie didn't have except for what was taken at the wedding. Jeb keeps one handy of Amalie all dressed up.

See what you mean about Az. I can tell which balls Amalie attended by whether or not Azkadellia's smiling. Girl's something special, sure. Don't know how my hard-headed son won her over. But Az needs to get more involved. I know you know. I'm just sayin'.

-Cain

June 6th

Dear Mr. Cain,

In your last letter you said that Az should get more involved. And I totally agree. I just don't know if it's gonna work. Or how it's gonna work. Because she can't stay cooped up in the palace all the time. It's gonna drive her schizoid. As if she doesn't have enough problems as it is.

Anyway, all I know is that my sister has a broken leg (which she refuses to let mother fix the magical way) because her horse, which was checked that very morning by our groomsman, threw her. And why did it throw her? Because it had lost a shoe out of nowhere. Some people say accident. I say clever assassination attempt. Which is freaking scary.

Mad as Heck,

June 7th

Dear Mr. Cain,

Before you totally freak out, here's stuff from Dad and Captain Adderton with all the new security measures and stuff. Unfortunately they call for a lot more inside-time for Az. Grr!

Sincerely,

June 7th again,

Okay so it was a freak accident. But we can't keep living like this. Az can't keep living like this. We're having a big meeting tomorrow—Mother, Dad, Az, Glitch, Captain Adderton and three of his lieutenants—to figure out what we can do so that Az can have more freedom without freely giving someone a chance to kill her. Did I mention that assassination attempts were never mentioned in any of the Disney movies as possible hazards of becoming a princess.

Az is more withdrawn than ever. After I fired off my note to you I spent most of the morning with her. I tried talking but she wasn't really holding up her end of the conversation very well. She didn't look sad or out of it, but really, really thoughtful. Which, I am learning, can be really bad.

I don't know what to do.

6/23

DG,

Course you're frustrated, kid. And mad enough to spit. Do it, too, if someone gets close enough.

I also know the OZ's got a long way to go before it heals. Attempts on Azkadellia's life are part of it. Not that it's right. I still say we shoulda hanged the bastard that tried to shoot her from the wall.

Take a page from the Queen. It's not easy, but forgiving never is. The OZ can't be torn apart by war. Again.

Azkadellia already knows, and that's she's thinking so hard. Just make sure not to leave her alone too much.

-Cain

July 23rd

Dear Mr. Cain,

I know it's been a long time. A month since you sent your letter (although, really? I'm being extremely generous by calling this one sided sheet of scrap paper a whole letter).

I don't really know what I mean to say. It's really late here. It mighat might actually be the 24th, I dunno, but I felt the need to write you so I am. It's not the same as when you were here of course. I'm sure you get tired of saying that, but the Mominator always told the old biddies at the Senior Center that it just wasn't the same if one of them was missing. They ate it up like you wouldn't believe. I guess I didn't really understand what she meant. Even when everyone's here and all together (which is ridiculously hard to do, can I tell you) you're not here and Jeb's not here. Particularly you. I mean I love Jeb and Ami to pieces. If Ami ever needed adopting I'd be petitioning the Royal Parents to take her in—she makes Az laugh, she pretends to understand what I'm saying and actually does understand what Glitch is saying. And Jeb is just so…himself. I have never met a more confident, self-possessed guy his age in my entire life. I know you guys are master carpenters and woodsmen and all that jazz, but if I could steal Jeb away from you and Ami and make him my advisory (and not have my conscious beat me up over it) I so would. But neither of them are you. And neither of them will ever be you. Just like you can't be either of them.

And, wow, that was…more than I thought it'd be. I'm sorry. This can't sleepness is just…doing weird things to me writing. Probably a bad idea to write while semi-conscious in the first place.

Thre' There'lll There will be a better letter next time. Promise.

8/7

DG,

Time flies. Life gets busy. I understand. Just don't overwork yourself. Rest is more important than you think it is. And usually the way your body lets you know you've overdone it is by shutting down on you.

How's your sister doing? And parents? Both sets. Glitch?

Miss you, too.

-Cain

August 21

Dear Mr. Cain,

Admit it, you're trying to see just how little you can get away with in each letter. That has got to be the shortest letter I have ever seen! It doesn't even count as a letter! Az has passed me longer notes at dinner. My mother, the Queen, has passed me longer notes in meetings with dignitaries. I waited two weeks for a corner-napkin note?

Dude. Seriously?

Anyway to answer your questions, even though by now you could've read all about everyone's health in Ozian Times by now. Really, what do you have against magic-mail? It's even faster than email. You get a lot less spam. Show's up in the same spot everyday and, now, I hardly ever scorch desks or wherever your designated mail spot is. And I swear I only almost set fire to Amalie's and Jeb's mail that one time. I didn't have to rewrite it or anything. Perfectly fine and dandy.

Right, so the fam: Az is still kinda chafing under the enforced in-time. I can't exactly blame her. She wasn't exactly going out a whole heck of a lot before but now it's ridiculous. Captain Adderton and Dad are promising that she can pretty much do what she wants to when we go out to Finaqua next week at the end of the week. They figure between the lake and needing one of us to get through the maze alive she's pretty safe. I hope so. The palace at Central City is supposed to be safe too but we see how well that worked out. Not that it's Captain Adderton's fault. Or anyone's fault I guess. It's just… You know. Azkadellia is my sister and I want more than what's best for her, I want her to be happy.

Mom and Dad are fine. Mom's not looking so great. I mean she's doing fantastic, all things considered, but that little stunt she pulled saving my life and all cost her about 20 years. At least that's what the doctors were saying last time I cornered one in a stairwell. And then of course there's whatever the Witch did. I switch between getting depressed and angry whenever I think about it. If there was anyone I could blast into the wall for this I would, but I look at myself in the mirror and I just can't manage it.

I'm joking, joking. Stop making that face.

Back to Mom and Dad The First… Dad's regular. He and I are getting along better every day. It's kinda weird. Remember how I told you that Mom and Robo-Mom were chummy? If only that's how it was with Dad. It's like he's their long lost son. Which would make them my grandparents? And it's right around that thought where my eyes glaze over and my brain turns to goo. Whenever I see Popsicle trying to teach Dad how to do something I just kinda put my brain on auto-pilot and try to enjoy the moment without, y'know, analyzing it or anything. Not easy. Hard to sotp stop analyzing when that's all you do all day. When not working on making my inner-princess my outer-princess without also making my inner-breakfast my outer-breakfast.

Glitch: Now that Jayson's long gone and I've been officially banned from the labs (his assistants petitioned Mom) I hardly see him. Every now and then one of them manages to actually get him to take a meal outside the lab, but who knows if anyone has managed to get the rest of us to take a meal outside our own "labs" so… It can be a little crazy. Mostly I see Glitch in the hall.

Speaking of the hall! So one day I'm walking in the hall and there's Glitch surrounded by, like, a cloud of lab techs and assistants and official type people wearing clothes that really should mean something to me but still haven't quite sunk in yet. Anyway, so there they are and here I am with my own mini-entourage (just Terry-Ann and three courtiers who were boring the living daylights out of me) and I'm already half trying to figure out how we're all going to fit through the hall. They're wide halls, as you know, but it half looked like Glitch had his entire staff in the hall with him. The way it should have gone was that me and Terry and the courtiers would stand aside while Glitch and Co. passed us. Except I knew they'd wait for us to go first because I'm the stinkin' Princess of the Outer Zone and all that junk. And so we're approaching and they're approaching and I can see how some of Glitch's people have finally spotted us and they're seeing the same problem that I'm seeing and it's just starting to get awkward.

Then out of nowhere Glitch appears out of this, like, cloud of people, takes my around the waist and just starts dancing with me! Like ballroom dancing. He actually danced me right through his people, halfway down the hall. And me, of course, I'm laughing my head off but Glitch is just looking all Ambrose-y which makes it about ten times funnier and…and it was great. Perfect. To this day I have no idea why he did it but I'm so glad he did. I'd been having a crappy day and hadn't had a chance to tell anyone about it and…I needed the laugh. And the dance.

Uh, who'd I miss? *checks letter brief note* The Roborents! Mominator and Popsicle are doing great. Apparently they're in, like, amazing condition. I think they're going to take their own vacay in Milltown when we go to Finaqua. They've been here all this time since after Azkadellia's guys got them fixed back right (they still have a real thing for Az, too. I swear they're just so ridiculously happy to be back in the OZ they're willing to adopt us all) and haven't been back to Milltown since. I mean I know Popsicle mostly talked about it to, like, prep me for coming back here but it's a robot town. It's their hometown. They gave me everything. It's nice to be able to give them something back. Something better than a cut out dinosaur (giant green lizard thing…just go with me) on a popsicle stick with my name on it. I want them to be happy, too.

And that's all the news that fits on—wow, two and three-quarters pieces of parchment. Go me!

Sincerely,

9/5

DG,

You want Azkadellia to be happy right now but Captain Adderton and Ahamo want her to be happy in the longterm. It'll work out.

Outer-princess vs. Outer-breakfast: I have faith in you, kid. You always could do whatever you set yourself to even if you risked all our lives. Just don't forget to aim. Away from Tutor.

Mom and Dad The First: Do they know that you call them that? Right. Dumb question.

Length of my letters: Hell already almost froze over once. I'm not tempting fate again.

Jeb and Amalie say hi. You probably already know that Amalie's expecting.

-Cain

September 27

Dear Mr. Cain,

Pfft! Course I know Ami's expecting! I probably knew like an hour after you and Jeb did. Unlike some people I know, Ami and Jeb aren't afraid of modern magical technology.

Anyway… Anyway I don't know. It's really late right now and I can't sleep and I've been meaning to write you for days, but now that I can (at the very minor expense of sleep) I'm too braindead to do it. Argh. It's kinda sad that all I've got in me is one good finger wagging. You'd think after almost 2 yeras years of princess lessons I'd be better at the tongue lashing thing. Or paper-and-pencil lashing as the case may be. Actually I'm not half bad, and that has more to do with waitressing and being a general menace to small-town society than from formal lessons on verbal evisceration. (Hope I spelled that right.)

And I just… Oh God, Cain. I just don't know. We're staying in Finaqua until about Christmas time or maybe Thanksgiving (you guys should totally come for Thanksgiving since no one in your village is going ot to know what you're talking obut about if you guys try it there) and then it's back to Central City for the holidays. Az has been okay while we're here, but I don't want things to go back to the way they were when we go back. And I… It's just different here. Not that Finaqua's any less busy. Not since we made it less of a summer home and more of a second capitol. But it's still got a totally different atmosphere. Even visiting people, dignitaries and petitioners and officials and whatnot, can sense it. They may be pissed off at Mom but they don't go stomping through the halls saying it loud and proud. Okay so they probably weren't doing that in CC, but, y'know. Just different. And I don't want to go back.

I want a real vacation, Cain. A vacation from me. Just for a little while. But thee's thes there's so much to do and so much I don't know. just when it think I've got it, I don't. I so don't.

And I'm having trouble sleeping. I've been having trouble sleeping.

November 1st

Dear Mr. Cain,

If it weren't for the fact that I know you broke your arm from Ami's and Jeb's letters I'd be a little pissed at you. I have heard from you in months. It's my job to drop the ball in this letter writing thing we've got going, not yours. You're the Tin Man. You're the one on top of things…prompt, um, timely. Concise!

You're two months behind, mister! (This is of course ignoring the fact that Amalie sent me a letter the morning after you broke your arm way back last month, and Jeb mentioned it in his letter that weekend and I'm just now writing you a month later, and you won't even get this letter for, like, a week and half because you refuse to let me send you letters any way but the slow way. You know, you have put a whole new spin on the term "snail mail" Cain, even if you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

It's funny, I keep expecting the footman to bring in a letter from you every morning even though I know good and well it's your right arm that's in a cast. Which totally sucks, you know. If you were home that could be fixed up ASAP and you could be back to your carpentry stuff, like, within a couple of days. I asked Az about it, but she directed me to Mom. Kind of wish I hadn't. She got a really dark look and said that she hadn't really studied the healing arts. Which, of course, the minute she said I wanted to yank my foot out of my mouth but too late. So I did ask Mom. And she said that even someone with as little magic as Tutor could fix your arm within an hour or so, but it'd still be tender for a couple of days and not really up to heavy manual labor.

Of course in the time it would take you to get there from here, your arm would heal on its own. Did you purposely move too far away to make regular visiting here difficult?

Anyway, I'm really not trying to pick at you. Delay meeting with some dignitaries, yes. Completely "forget" a meeting with the seamstress for more fittings for the Winter Ball (are you guys coming?), yes. Pick at you…? Okay, maybe a little bit.

I've heard a rumor that Raw and his people are going to be in your general vicinity soon. Tell them hi for me when you see them. I already asked Ami to give him a hug for me, so you're cleared.

Hoping you feel better by the time this finally gets to you,

11/17

DG,

Was wondering if I'd get a letter out of you.

To answer your unspoken question: We don't have anyone magical out here. Too remote. Folks mostly like it that way, so it's no worry at all. Local doc's a good guy. Practiced medicine in Central City under the Sorceress'. Couldn't handle it after a while and joined others fleeing to the countryside. Did a lot of moving around, a lot of helping folks in exchange for lodging and food, some work with the Rebellion, eventually moved out this way maybe a year after me and Jeb and Amalie got here.

-Cain

December 5th

Cain, sometimes I swear I don't know which is more frustrating: you or your letters!

December 10th

Dear Mr. Cain,

I have been at turns tempted to just send that little piece of a note to you (see how you like it) and burn it up. You are frustrating, though. Don't think you're getting off that hook any time soon.

You never answered the question about whether you guys are coming to Central City for the Winter festivities. Christmas won't be the same without you guys.

Come home. Just for a little while. Please.

Sincerely,

December 12th

Dear Mr. Cain,

I just received a letter from Jeb…him and Ami are coming to the winter ball and they're staying until the new year celebrations. That's like two and half weeks. You're coming with them, aren't you? You can't stay out there in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, for almost three weeks by yourself. That's just unreasonable. And boring. And lonely.

And did I mention unreasonable? I know you're pigheaded, Cain, but c'mon. It'll be a year since I've seen you. A whole year! Just think of the misadventures you've missed out on. The limbs that have, except for you breaking your own arm, been largely safe from harm. The hair that you will never have to fear regrowing…or fear will never stop growing. Which, um, yeah…Dad will never have to worry about going bald. Ever.

I even managed to convince the guards to let me out of the palace long enough to pick up gifts for everyone. And Az is having such a good moment right now. Having you here would just put the icing on the cake, y'know? Raw will be back some time around February/March when his people swing this way again, just in time for Spring, but otherwise it'll be everyone. Glitch has got a girlfriend. They're extremely cute and geeky around each other. I don't care what he's telling you in his letters, it's not the same as seeing them live. Most of the conversation goes over my head, even when they're talking mechanical type stuff, but somehow in all that geek-speak they're whispering (or shouting, if the lab's blown up again) sweet nothings to each other…just out in the open where we can all hear but not understand.

Come home, Cain. Just for Christmas.

Miss you,

December 15th

Dear Mr. Cain,

Even if you're not coming it wouldn't kill you to send a reply letter saying so. I know you hate the letter-glass Jeb and Amalie use but…

I don't know what to say, Cain. It's not going to be the same without you. Everyone will be here but you. Half of what has made this year without you bearable is knowing that you'd be here for Christmas, even if you couldn't stay for the new year.

And now you're not even answering my letters. I expected different from you, Cain. I expected…

I don't know. I guess what I thought I knew, I didn't. I guess.

December 16th

Ignore what I said before. It's not too late to make it here in time if you leave right now. Don't worry about clothes. You know we have plenty of stuff that will fit you. And you can use this letter to requisition a ride once you get out of the sticks and into a proper town. Just come home for Christmas. Jeb and Ami are here. You're going to miss your own kids for Christmas. Don't do it. Come home.

(tbc)

AN4: If you don't want to wait six months to read the next chapter, please check out my homepage every once in a while for updates. I'm posting the letters in sections there, but only posting whole "annuals" here. Besides, the strikethroughs carry over there. ;)