Princess Ozma was in no mood to be seen today. Day in and day out, she would aid her people with wishes and wants; and yet they could never see just how exhausting her life was. Although she was a princess, lived in a beautiful palace in the Emerald City and had riches beyond recognition, there were two things she could never have: her home and family. For Oz had never been the home that she belonged to, it was in fact a far off land called Kansas. Though that place was nothing more than a rolling dust pile of flat land and grey surroundings, Princess Ozma, or Dorothy, as her family back home referred to her, had longed to see them again.
It didn't help that it was the eve of her 20th birthday, where a grand ball was to be hosted in her honor for all of the Emerald City to enjoy. It also wasn't helping that she knew the announcement of her engagement to the great and powerful Wizard of Oz would be told. It wasn't that she didn't like the man. She just could never understand him, and it almost felt that it was a political alignment rather than something from true love. She knew that Victor cared for her and would take care of her; but she knew that she could never do the same for him. The one she truly loved was gone forever and she knew he would never dream of coming back to this place.
But tonight was going to be different. She was going to change her destiny. She was not going to continue the charade of being a fake princess, no matter what the cost. She was going to leave Oz after the ball. Her precious items had been thrown about the room, trying to condense them as best she could in order to travel light. She couldn't leave without her Auntie Em's favorite sash, her Uncle Henry's handkerchief, or Toto's old collar, all of which were hidden about as she tried to pack them in her case. She didn't need the fancy frocks, the ribbons or the finery, none of that mattered to her. But most of all she did not need or ever want to bring back the silver shoes.
Those damned shoes, she thought, while walking around the room she could hear the all too familiar click/clack sound they'd make against the tile floor. If there was anything she had hoped and dreamed for most, it was to have those shoes removed for good once she'd leave Oz. She could finally slip into something more comfortable, and better yet not have a constant fear of being kidnapped by bandits or murdered for the shoes power. She'd had enough to deal with when she accidently killed the other witches, and she never understood why Glinda called the shoes a blessing. No, they were never her blessing. They would constantly be Dorothy's very real curse. As she was about to finish collecting her things and throw them into her case, she was suddenly thrown back to reality when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.
"Ozma, my dear, are you ready?" It was Victor, sounding a bit more aggravated then usual. Dorothy rushed around her room, attempting to hide her packed things.
"Just a minute, Victor!" she continued to shove items beneath cushions "A lady does have to take time to prepare for these things." She heard him let out a sigh and lightly tap his foot. Dorothy hadn't even begun to get ready for the ball, let alone have anyone help her. She ripped open her wardrobe and pulled out her evening gown, a long, emerald colored velvet number that she hated. When I return home, Dorothy thought as she ripped off her robe and began shimming with all her might into the dress, I will never wear any shade of green again. She heard another light knock at the door, cursing the sound and the man behind it.
"Ozma, may I come in, please? We're going to be late." Dorothy danced over to her dressing curtain and hide behind it.
"You may proceed!" The door handle turned open and Victor entered. He was a very handsome man, eyes that were a deep blue with a light dusting of ashy-blonde, slicked back hair. He was decked to the nines in a similar emerald shade evening outfit, and his leather shoes shined from being overly buffed by the royal polisher. That was the thing that irked Dorothy the most about him; he was just too much all the time. He had to look just right for every occasion, and if she was not up to par with that he would of course make a comment. She'd been told this sense of commentary came from his very strict father, but perhaps that was only a rumor. In fact, Dorothy barely knew anything about the man at all. Not of his family history or how he came to Oz; just that five years prior he had shown the fellow Ozians his form of magic and was deemed the prophesized Wizard of Oz. Her people gave him everything, their devotion, their gold; you name it. The Good Witch Glinda had asked for anything he desired, and his desire was to one day have a wife worthy of a Queen. Glinda being the matchmaker that she was, decided it was only fitting for that person to be the people's princess, Ozma. It was the day where Dorothy's life ended.
Victor approached the curtain as she continued to struggle with putting on her dress. "Would you like some help?" Dorothy peeked out from behind the curtain and raised her brow. He smiled. "I'll take that as a yes then?" She shook her head in agreement and hid away again. Victor gently walked forward and went behind the curtain, where her back was turned to reveal the opening of her dress.
"It's this damned lace up, I can never do it myself." Dorothy attempted to tighten the strings but to no avail. Victor again smiled in that oh so patronizing what would she do without me? type of way. She rolled her eyes and tried not to frown. "Just help me, will you?"
He took both sides and pulled them together, running the laces up her back and tightening them as he went. His hands were soft for a man who worked so often in his lab; but they also had the tendency to be cold and clammy; something she did not enjoy having to hold. He continued the process as she attempted to stand as still as possible. "Don't your handmaidens usually have the pleasure of helping you into these things?" He pulled on the laces a bit too snuggly, having her gasp a bit for breath.
"I gave them the day off. Need to celebrate something, no?" He continued higher up her back, drawing even tighter and making it more difficult for her breathe. "Mind going a bit gentler on the exterior, please?" Victor let out a bit of a huff and continued with the lacings. His expression looked a striking combo of being both annoyed and at a loss of words. That's how he always tended to look at Ozma. She was a wild, untamable youth. He remembered his young days with fondness; but it was always his brother who was the reckless one, never him. Father would have never allowed him to do that. No, he stayed with his books, his studies. He wanted to be the very image of what scientific discovery was all about. He was thankful that he could continue his research in this land of Oz; but he too missed where he came from. Though he knew after the fiasco of his brother's re-awakening that he could never return; especially after what he did to his dear old Papa. "Victor please you're hurting me!"
Victor snapped back to his reality and saw that his hands had grasped the lacings too tightly and he nearly ripped Ozma's dress. He let go and backed away. "I'm…I'm so sorry my dear." He looked at his hands and noticed that they were visibly trembling. Dorothy looked down at him, eyeing him nervously as she finished tying the back.
"Are you sure you're alright, Victor?" He nodded yes and bowed his head.
"I must be nervous for tonight's announcement." He wrung his hands, as if he were trying to wipe away a certain guilt that he could not wash out. "You must feel the same way, no?" Dorothy nodded, turning around to leave the curtain and find her gloves. "You look like me when I leave my curtain!" He said with a laugh as he walked towards her boudoir table and poured himself a drink of green elixir. "Always loosening my gloves in the name of research, one day I hope to show you everything I've learned and what I have yet to learn. I hope the people of Oz will find some comfort in that." He took a seat and downed the glass instantly. Dorothy hated that he drank so often, and it began to grow more noticeable with the more time she spent with him. He was never violent towards her, not in the slightest; she just knew that having any kind of drinking problem could easily result towards that. She'd seen enough drunks walk past her farm in Kansas to know otherwise.
Dorothy found her gloves and quickly slid them on. She turned towards Victor and shrugged her shoulders. "How do I look?" He stared at her in awe. Though she was quite the wild youth, she was also one of truly striking beauty. She had long, wavy auburn hair and eyes the color of the Emerald Sea. She'd grown into her features perfectly; but yet still had the untamed personality that no one would ever be able to hold back. This is where their differences lied. He could be rigid and uncomfortable in social situations, whereas Ozma flourished. There were times where all he'd ever want was for her to be his constant companion, to do as he said and to always be ready for him when he needed her. But deep down he knew that she would never be like that. Her spirit was far too great for the all mighty and powerful Wizard of Oz. She was the adventurer, and he was the stay at home scientist. Nothing could ever change that. Dorothy raised her brow again, Oh how I despise it when she does that, he thought, and she put her hands on her hips. "Well, is this OK? May we go now?"
He stood and went over to her, taking her gloved hands into his clammy ones. "You look perfect, my dear. Absolutely perfect." She feigned a smile, attempting to avoid looking him in the eyes. More so than anything, she was hoping that he would not look anywhere behind her, where a good portion of her bags were still thrown about. He bent down and gently kissed her forehead. "All of Oz should be jealous of this vision I get to see," he ran his fingertips down her cheek, making her blush "you are perfect. And soon you'll be all mine." Dorothy furrowed her brow and took a step back from him.
"Excuse me?" Victor looked at her with a bit of surprise.
"Did I say something wrong, Ozma?"
Dorothy scowled and walked away from him. "Victor, that's not my real name. You know what it is. If you're going to marry me you should at least call me by my birth right." Victor was ready to give her a retort but instead bit his lip in frustration. "You of all people know who I really am; I'm not some pet of yours and will never be. Just because we have a pact of marriage will never give you the right to own me. I own myself, and I will choose what I want to do with my life. I am Dorothy Gale of Kansas, wearer of the Silver Shoes. I have the curse to travel to worlds to protect Oz and its people!" She huffed around, looking for a necklace and earrings to wear. "All you do make puffs of smoke and call it magic!"
That was the straw that broke the camels back. Victor grabbed her arm and wrenched her forward. "I do not create magic," he hissed, digging his nails into Dorothy's small arm "I create science. Don't you dare call it anything other than that!" Before he could yell any further a loud knock rang on Dorothy's door and it flung open to reveal a petite blonde wearing an extravagantly gaudy pink frock.
Glinda, or Glinda the Good as all of Oz knew her, was a good witch. True, for the most part she attempted to do good for her people; but she also had a rather manipulative and scheming air about her. She wanted everything to be just right. Perfect. No mistakes. If she were the stage manager of Oz she'd be running the show in tip top shape. It worked simultaneously with her appearance. Her poufy blonde hair was exquisitely tied in a high bun, a sparkling tiara crowing the very top. Her face, though clearly aged, was heavily powered with makeup and stick on emeralds, all to reflect her status upon her people (and to disguise the fact that she wasn't getting any younger). She clearly thought of herself as the grand dame of all grand dames, and if people followed her ways things would be just perfect. Unfortunately for her, Princess Ozma never cared to follow that. Perhaps a bit of further pushing would do the trick, she thought. She had hoped Victor would bring some sense into the wildling and make her act accordingly. When she looked forward and saw the way Victor was holding the Princess, she assumed things were going better than she had hoped.
"My dears!" She glided towards the two, Victor immediately letting Dorothy's arm go. "Where have you two been?" She scanned them up and down, evaluating the situation. "Not having a lover's quarrel are we?" Victor huffed away from the two of them and poured himself another drink. Glinda smiled towards the princess, her syrupy sweetness egging Dorothy on.
"Heavens forbid we have that!" Victor downed the glass and began pouring himself another.
"Victor, dear" she put her long, talon like nails over the cup's top "you can have more at the party!" Glinda took the glass away from him and pointed towards the door. "You too love-birds are terribly late! Can't have all of Oz waiting for someone's special day!" She continued to have her frosted pink tipped fingers dance towards the doorway. Dorothy knew that tonight had to be the night. There was no other way around it. She couldn't take any more of Victor's patronizing and Glinda was just on par if not worse than he was. Victor held out his hand to Dorothy, looking at her with exhaustion.
"Shall we?" Dorothy went straight past him and grabbed her mask. Of course Glinda would have it be a masquerade ball, she thought, wrapping the mask around her head and tying the strings.
"I'll be with you in a moment." Victor was in no mood for arguing and left, with Glinda sashaying behind him. Dorothy looked at herself in the mirror, tears forming and slowly running down her face. She was ready to break the looking glass into a million pieces. I am Dorothy Gale, she thought, repeating it in her head so she would never forget. She looked down at her boudoir, her jewelry scattered about and the awful smell of green elixir wafting near her. I am Dorothy Gale. She suddenly saw something that she hadn't looked at in years. It was a small gold ring with a large ruby in the center. She picked it up, examining it. I am Dorothy Gale. About to put it back in the box, she nearly jumped a foot when it began to glow bright red. Her eyes widened, it couldn't be. I am Dorothy Gale. She looked at it closer, remembering the words he had said to her so many years ago. It couldn't be what she thought. He couldn't come back, he'd said so himself. She could never see him again. Dorothy looked at the ring again, and whispered as quietly as she could. "I am Dorothy Gale of Kansas." The ring glowed even brighter. It was true. He was there. Her Jefferson had returned to Oz.