Disclaimer: I own nothing; for fun, not profit; etc.

Setting/Spoilers: Set sometime after the third installment; spoilers for all three.

Notes: Silly me, I wrote this a long time ago and never uploaded.

Time streams differently to each of us, Tutor had once said. It is never a constant, nor is it comparable to any other one person's perception. Time wavers.

DG to this day had a vague memory of looking at him with the askance eyes of a confused princess who had better things to be doing at five years old; who had been promised a secret adventure in the woods later in the day by her sister, and had just come from the loving arms of her mother.

Az had snorted then at her sister's reaction, and floated her own doll to DG, who in turn spun it back, shared secret smiles and all. Tutor had been less than pleased, but exploring the woods had come sooner rather than later, and in DG's young mind, that was all that had mattered on that perfect day.

"Do you remember that day?" she had asked Az once, walking arm in arm in the courtyard of the palace. "The colors were always so much brighter there. The philosophy of time or whatever it was Tutor was trying to get across had seemed so pointless."

Looking up at her sister, she was struck again by how very graceful she was; the elegance of her profile to the contrast of dark hair to ivory skin. Always tall and stately, her sister. It made her feel childish in comparison, wide blue eyes, perpetual trust, tangled hair and skinned knees.

She was allowed pants, now, at least, after her loudly cursing the overriding misogynist sentiments that kept her in dresses. I don't belong in dresses! she had exclaimed, thrusting the offending garment at her mother (the real one, not the robot). I ruin things like this! To her credit, her mother had taken it well – or at least better than she had hoped. DG doubted she'd ever be used to dealing with queens, mother or not.

"I don't…" had begun Az, and drifted off. DG squeezed her arm in support. "Sunrise to sunset. Vaguer markings are a blessing. They blend together."

It was a broken statement, and slow in coming. DG was struck by an urge to grab her hand and take off running and splash her in the water and make her laugh. She never laughed, anymore.

"How's your sister?" Cain had asked last time she'd seen him.

She'd sighed. "Well, I saved her," she said, giving him a pointed glance that she thought failed miserably.

"More than one kind of saving," Cain replied, softly and succinctly.

The conversation had stopped for a minute there, and after delving into the dangerously introspective areas of both their souls, DG gave him a playful push and asked after Jeb.

Lightheartedness, she had always found, was something you created for yourself, and was definitely not something that happened on its own, and particularly not here – or at least not at this point in time. Cain threw her a look that said he knew what she was doing, but she ignored it as she had every other time she'd been on the receiving end.

It had been two and a half months since she'd recrossed from the Other Side, three weeks since royal duties had started being foisted on her, four days since Azkadellia had stopped needing a constant and tangible presence with her, two days since she'd holed herself in her designated rooms.

Ahamo had called it 'a funk'. DG had grinned immediately at the refreshing change of pace in language, even as her father blushed after realizing his slip. She'd clapped a hand to his shoulder reassuringly.

Don't worry, she'd said. If nothing else, at least there's still someone here who still understands me. Weeks of having metaphors and analogies go unappreciated and misunderstood were making her feel like she spoke a different language. Ahamo might be a few years – annuals – whatever – behind her in pop culture, but it was the subtle things that counted. Like knowing you weren't the only alien in your family.

It had been half an hour since she'd woken to a ridiculously happy day's cheerful sunbeams pushing through her drawn curtains. She couldn't say she minded all that much. Ten minutes since she'd dressed, seven since she'd left her room, four and a half since she'd rushed in and out of the breakfast room to tell her parents good morning (We're going on a field trip today, we'll be back for dinner, love you, bye) and grab a muffin (two muffins), forty nine seconds since she'd reached the corridor with her and Az's rooms.

"Az," she called through her sister's door. "Field trip today, don't tell me you don't remember!"

Nothing.

"Don't make me come in there," she warned.

No response. DG pushed open the doors, took a flying leap and landed in a heap of still-gangly limbs next to her sister's body, pillowing her head little-girl-like on Az's shoulder.

"Field trip?" Az finally asked softly, shifting reluctantly to accommodate her.

"A way to get out of school," DG replied. "Supposedly educational, but really a reason to get real sunlight instead of fluorescents."

Azkadellia was silent a moment. DG closed her eyes in the quiet.

"Where?"

And DG grinned. "Get dressed. It's a surprise."

oOo

It was nearing high noon by the time they reached the fields of the Papay ("This is most dangerous," Glitch-as-Ambrose had warned them as they left, to which DG shrugged and quite reasonably pointed out that their combined magic was greater than just hers alone and that had saved them last time, so what did they really have to be afraid of? Az had looked at her like she was an idiot.)

Her sister was watching the sun like a foreign object. DG tugged at her hand.

"Come on," she repeated. "This is gonna be a long day."

The Papay approached them cautiously. "We're friends," DG said.

Their leader seemed to cock his head at her, and that was good enough for DG. Azkadellia followed her aimlessly, as DG tightened her grip on her hand.

"Ready?" she asked, looking over, and saw Az finally understood. She nodded tightly past the pain and memory in her eyes. DG wondered how young she had been when she had destroyed these fields.

They put their hands over the bark of the tree. It flowered. And Az smiled to see it.

"It's nice to know I can still do some good," she said softly. The wonder in her voice nearly broke DG's heart.

Better not to dwell, Cain had advised her once. You're not running now, are you?

A growing group of Papay followed them from flowering tree to flowering tree. Azkadellia seemed not to notice them for awhile, and startled when she did.

"It's okay," DG assured her softly. "We're helping them, and they know that. We're okay."

It didn't stop her sister from throwing uneasy glances over her shoulder from tree to tree.

It was impossible to finish the entire field in a day. DG turned when the sun had nearly gone down.

"We'll be back," she told the group.

They bowed in gratitude and acquiescence.

"Mother," Az said vaguely. DG frowned.

"What about her?"

"She likes the blossoms," her sister replied wistfully, distantly.

DG looked up at the last flowering tree before the edge of the wasteland, and back to the Papay. "Hey, do you guys mind if we take just two or three of the flowers back for our mother?" she asked.

The creature blinked at her. Azkadellia wasn't sure it was a consent until she and DG walked away unscathed with two blossoms each in hand.

DG linked an arm through her sister's. "You okay?" she asked.

Az turned her head and smiled at the landscape behind her. "The sunset," she replied, gesturing with her noble chin.

Sunrise to sunset, DG remembered, and at that moment, looking behind them, time stood still, before she squeezed her sister's arm tighter and continued eastward.