Author: NebulaSpider

Rating: M, eventually


Title: Dark Tower

Summary: DG has tried to leave the OZ behind her, but discovers that running away is never as easy or as simple as it sounds.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sci-Fi's reproduction of Tin Man nor any of L. Frank Baum's original characters. I am certainly making no money from this fiction.


The door was just ahead of him in the rough stone hallway, light and warmth spilling out along with the laughter of his comrades. Taking a deep breath, Alain closed his eyes for a brief moment. He knew that for him, the welcome was only illusion tonight. His news was not good and might even end his life if He was not in a benevolent mood tonight. Very gently, he thumbed the ring on his forefinger for a memory of strength then straightened up and announced himself at the open door.

"Lord," he said, kneeling instantly. His form was perfect and the salute of fist against chest smooth and professional. Almost immediately, his liege looked over, the fierce, feral gleam of His eyes utterly unnerving. He was not in a good mood after all, and the only outcome he could hope for was a quick, relatively painless death. There was no command to rise, and Alain swallowed against the knowledge that he didn't really want to die after all. Mikkel, he thought, numbly, unexpectedly. My brother, you were right.

"Lord, I bring bad news," he tried again, his gaze unwaveringly on the slate floor. He didn't dare look up, not with the instant cold silence that statement brought. "I have found the girl, Lord. She is not in the Outer Zone, not even the Realm of the Unwanted, nor in any neighboring lands." He stopped a moment and swallowed again as casually as he could manage with those eyes boring into the back of his neck. "They have sent her, or she has returned on her own, to the Other Side."

He gently thumbed his ring again, hidden against his chest and remembered in the middle of the cold, deadly silence. Once there were two brothers with two different hearts and two different minds but only one dream. That dream was of honor and of service to the OZ. 'We will make a better place,' he remembered saying so solemnly to his younger brother, Mikkel. 'Together,' Mikkel had responded equally solemnly. Then they would clasp their hands together in front of them, palm to palm, his right to his brother's left. At that point the spell of their seriousness would be broken in their laughter, but the dream always stayed. Many warm afternoons in their family's orchard were spent in the highest branches of the highest trees, making plans. Many cold winter nights were spent in front of the fire holding their dream close and assuring each other it was within reach.

"Do you know where in the Other Side she is?" his Lord's cruel, capricious voice purred. There was no disappointment or anger, not yet. "It is a very large place, after all, even larger than the OZ if the tales I hear are correct."

His voice was dangerous, but then, Alain already knew what he faced. Against his will, that danger resonated deeply with the only danger that really mattered – his memory. His father's eyes, his brother's eyes staring at him in wounded accusation. His mother's eyes staring at him in hurt disbelief. And Inya's eyes...no, he could not think of his sister. Not now, not and keep his wits about him. Would it be so bad? The thought came without warning. Would it be so bad to die? To join my family again and to make amends – surely they would forgive me in death although they never did in life.

With a start, Alain yanked his thoughts to the here and now. If he weren't careful and alert he surely would die and it would not be pleasant. Frantically, he sorted through his thoughts for his Lord's last statement. Ah, there. He had it.

"Yes, Lord, of course. I have everything prepared for you in my report, along with a map of that portion of the Other Side. I have done everything I could think of to finally realize our goals." His Lord extended His hand and Alain dropped his salute to reach for his report. "In addition, I have included the names and locations of the two friends closest to the girl."

Everyone in the room knew who 'the girl' was, of course, although her name was never mentioned. She was Princess Dorothy Gale, or DG as she seemed to prefer to be called, and she had almost single-handedly ended the Witch's reign within Azkadellia, the older princess. The girl also almost destroyed the entire OZ by allowing the royal family to continue ruling unchecked. Almost, he bared his teeth before remembering where he was and who he was with. Although his Lord understood of all people…something not even his family could lay claim to. With that familiar, comforting thought, Alain was able to push the unwelcome thoughts of his past away.

Again the cold voice of the Lord broke into his thoughts, scattering them for good this time. "You mentioned bad news, soldier. So far, you have only mentioned the good news. I think now might be an appropriate time to mention the bad news before I forget. Rise."

Slowly, Alain dropped his kneeling pose and stood straight, looking into His eyes as He has always allowed during such times. "Lord, you forget nothing. I know where the girl is. I know how best to get at her and when once in her presence. However, I know of no way to get at her. The witch killed herself rather than help us."

Why must his memories betray his wishes every time? He didn't want to remember her hopeless eyes, the triumphant smile, the screams of agony as if she was being eaten alive by the substance she smeared on her forearm. He didn't want to remember the smell. Most of all, he didn't want to remember her last words.

"Her last words were of support for the House of Gayle," and condemnation of him and his dream. "She is quite definitively gone, Lord. I have searched and searched, but there is only one other person with both the knowledge and strength to create a travel storm useful enough for our purposes." Alain didn't bother to name Azkadellia – again, everyone in the room knew exactly who he was referring to.

After he finished his report, there was a long, long silence. Alain continued to look proudly at his Lord. His uncertain temper could not be judged from His face; it was completely smooth and emotionless. Eventually, his Lord nodded sharply and waved a hand to release him from standing at attention. "You are loyal, soldier, and honest. I respect those traits. I reward only cowards, betrayers and idiots with death. So far, you are none of those. Go rest, with my approval, and know I value your work. You will report to me in two days, that I may give you further orders." That being said, He turned back to his map and everyone else in the room resumed their interrupted conversations. Nearly dizzy with confusion, grateful to be leaving with his life, Alain knelt formally a second time. Later that evening, curled up in his own bunk, he couldn't explain the two tears that dropped onto his golden ring on the right forefinger or the heavy sense of grief that weighed down on his chest.

Mikkel. Brother. The night offered no comfort.