Disclaimer: Very much appreciated tax return puts me about six months closer to owning something, but probably not Tin Man…Come on accountants! What do we pay you for?

Author's Note: And now to see if anyone is still hanging around patiently…sorry about that folks. Real life and all that – especially Quality Control's, I sent this to her weeks ago but, alas and woe, she didn't have time to look at it until today. And if you think I am going to pester QC (much) the way real life is presently, forget it! I chose life!

PS Plus side: while waiting for her okay on this one I got bored and wrote the prologues for the next two…


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Aurex Dorothea Ballari Cahya Faree Eureka Hayelette Lavendar Iris Saadet Ozma Nianda Kikiaru Roganda Jinjur Tafariah Valkyrie Witchbane Yangwidere Xandia Zaire Quelala Ume Pandora Mystmeidens Gale, henceforth to be known as Zo because it really wasn't necessary to enumerate the dynasty just to get her attention, looked down at the head cradled in her lap with a bemused, and cautiously pleased, sort of wonderment. She was a little at a loss at how he had convinced her to act as his pillow. It had something to do with his smile, she decided. That habitually cocky smile that lit up his eyes with a sort of startled sincerity, which constantly tempted the Queen into actions contrary to the calm, cool image of regal infallibility she had been cultivating for her entire life. She was pretty sure you weren't supposed to use royalty as a pillow after all, it was probably down somewhere in the scrolls as a capital offence, off with his head and all that (though that would make something of a mess of her dress). Zo certainly couldn't remember her parents behaving thusly.

Then again, Zo couldn't remember the ethereal Queen Glinda II behaving with other than perfect regal grace, and her father...

The young queen traced the sideburns her Othersider insisted were 'totally groovy' idly. She was pretty sure she needed to outlaw groovy.

...well, her father never really acted one way or the other without someone telling him how...

Questing fingers probed gently for the stubborn jaw hidden so cleverly beneath the subversive facial hair.

...Her mother, she supposed, didn't really have much choice. Ailing monarchs generally didn't. Courtiers could scent death in the air better than any a carrion crow, and didn't always have their patience. A ruler must appear strong to their last gasping breath or risk having even that taken from them...

Unconsciously, her fingers skimmed down the neck to linger momentarily on the restful pulsing of a healthy heart.

...Glinda had been dying her entire life...

Zo's fingers made their way back up to an obstinate chin.

...It was said in the O.Z. that a dying will is the most indomitable. Her mother's had been utterly ruthless...

Delicate hesitation as the exploring digits failed to dare traverse unguarded lips before retreating to the much more neutral ruffling of bangs.

...Her father had been a man weak of heart, blinded by emotion, nostalgic, sentimental...Had he been born into any other class of society he might even have been called a good man, but not amongst the nobility. A guileless but good hearted man amongst the masses might be a fondly thought upon walking joke; one such in the Royal Family was dangerous. The perfect tool...

From bangs to brow, cunning, devious brow, the fingers quested on...

...never more perfect than in the hands of her mother. Heirs of the O.Z. married within the O.Z., as tradition lay. Her mother had, marrying a good man, last of a good family, his position in court so neutral as not to tip any balance, his mind so easily swayed and swayed again that he almost never got around to acting, except when his Queen sent him dancing once more...

...down that clever nose for gossip and the scandals of court.

...dancing to the tune that was her mother's sole ambition: that her daughter Aurex Et Cetera should follow her mother onto the throne, the next heir in the direct line, descendant of a long line of mothers and daughters...

The fingers hovered once more over that tempting mouth...

...It was the most she could do for her daughter, for her Realm, securing the succession in face of those that might see an ailing monarch as an opportunity to put a more...pliable candidate into power's way, despite the upheaval that would result. Zo learned young that political alliances were never as advantageous as when they removed potential rival heirs from the O.Z...

...and again retreated to trace a keen ear.

...She'd learned just as young that the way to keep regents from getting ideas about their temporary influence and power was to make sure they weren't appointed in the first place...

The wandering hand came to rest over a strong chest and a beating heart.

...Her mother's life had been spent ensuring the stability of the Realm, down to her last gasping breath; her Light extinguished in the effort of defending her daughter's birthright to rule. The daughter who had made herself a promise long ago - the one thing she would not be denied - and how fatal could the keeping of it be?...

Lavender eyes are caught by impish blue ones above a mischievously quirked pair of lips...

...The promise of a Queen...who is suddenly but a teenage girl, whose would be authority figures certainly do not approve of her chosen consort...or perhaps Consort...

...lips that just beg for exploration...

...after all, there is the precedent that is Dorothy...