A formidable zoo of servants were rushing to and fro. Last minute dusting or straightening a rug was for the housekeepers, the guards self consciously polished their armor for the hundredth time and straightened their plumes, and the poor kitchen staff, having to please hundreds of unpleaseable pallets, were busy whipping up and baking extra food in the event of an emergency.
High above this chaos, Scarecrow was studying some note cards concerning his arrivals. "Duke Elington's niece recently had her cotillion ball." Flip. "Lady Adimare was successful in holding off trolls at Breakrock Pass." Flip. "Prince Lauard's horse received second place at Wonderland's Teacup Derby." Flip.
He was currently in his private chambers, an area that he did not spend much time in as his office which was nearby. It was simple compared to other royal apartments though, to his semi-amusement, it contained his coat of arms on nearly every space it could fit. There was a small library, as if he needed anymore, a parlor to meet with private friends, a minor laboratory he had to fight for, and a private solar room for relaxing. Right now he was in his bedroom, a place just equipped with a wardrobe, the writing desk he sat at, and a green sheeted bed that he only occasionally partook of. The windows let in morning light and what there was of decor was tasteful yet elegant from local talent.
"Yea be gotten to memorize all dem details yer majesty?" A small voice squeaked by his knee.
The king did not even glance over at the speaker. "Sadly yes, it's good form to know what is going on in my guests' lives and stroke their egos- I mean compliment them about their accomplishments. Everyone has a tendency of believing that their own lives are the most important after all."
The little voice tisked. "That be why yer the king and not meh." It laughed.
"Chiptner!" Another, more feminine voice squeaked in outrage. "Stop chattin' and get back ta work."
Now the king looked up. "Queen Flora, the boy is doing no harm."
A field mouse queen humphed. "I be the judge of that." The grain brown mouse scampered up his arm to his shoulder. "But never mind that dear, how's yer leg feelin'?"
The king honestly had not regained feeling in his left leg yet. Queen Flora had insisted on replacing some of the straw inside of it. Even now the side table held the choices bundles of golden wheat, their perfectly pristine straight strands glittered in the light. They would be attached to the ironwood bones that now made up his entire internal structure, each strand laid more perfect than muscle tissue that would be found in a corresponding human. The best anatomy book had more flaws, as Queen Flora would often point out as a source of pride. Once finished, the mice would reweave the feathersilk cotton that made up his skin, leaving no trace in the tight weave that was an soft and impenetrable as human skin. Scarecrow made a point of never watching them work, it was unsettling to say the least.
"It feels fine, as it always has." He finally said.
"Nonsense!" The queen replied. "Ye had a limp."
"I did not."
"Ye did so!" She insisted. "The joint 'ad showed some wear, impressive feat ta do ta ironwood, so we repaired et."
"If I did, I didn't notice it." Scarecrow of course never had a mother, but he imagined that Queen Flora filled the position nicely.
"It be a good thing I did then." The queen sniffed. "I knew ye not be likin the full body check, which be why we be tryin' ta get as much dun now, but ye gotta be let us look at the joints more than twice a year dear."
The king sighed at the nagging, his notes now long forgotten. "Whatever you say."
Flora seemed satisfied that she had gotten through to him. "Now dear, how 'bout yer hair?" She checked at the straight cornsilk at his scalp, her whiskers tickling his ear.
"Madam C wants me to get it cut again."
Flora sniffed. "Charlene may be knowin 'bout fabrics and fashion, but she be not knowin 'bout haircare." She straightened out her own fur, as if proving that made her opinion superior. The little perfectionist could not find anything that warranted her attention and went back to his shoulders.
"Are we almost finished?" Scarecrow said impatiently, noticing that some of the other mice were not working on the leg and instead were inspecting other areas. "I do have places to be."
"Hush." The little mouse queen rapped her tail against his shoulder. "Ye be meetin wit some important people and ye want ta be all in workin order." She then slid closer to his ear to whisper slyly. "And ye be meetin wit ladies, and then ye definitely want it all ta be in workin' order." She giggled naughtily. "Like I always be sayin, when ya want ta build the perfect man, ya get a woman ta do it."
Scarecrow groaned and rolled his eyes, long past being embarrassed by the queen's infrequent dip into innuendo. "It won't matter. None of those vultures they call women are what you'd call my type."
"Oh?" She waggled an eyebrow. "Ye taste be more geared toward the dark haired ladies?"
Scarecrow straighten right up, feeling worried. "What-?"
She patted his cheek. "Oh, I know ye too well ta think ye can hide it from meh. Ye be havin' a soft spot for that girl Dorothy."
Now Scarecrow felt embarrassed. "Look, it's not..." Not what? He had started speaking without considering where he was trying to go. That was not like him and Flora knew that.
"Ah, ye be worried but she's a sweet one I say." Flora crooked a finger to indicate he needed to look at her. "I know ye be new ta this, but don't be lettin' that make ya push her away." She said as the same time she checked his eyes. They were special, being, aside from his brains, something that Flora kept from his original body and had made sure to well enough leave alone. She believed that eye were the window to the soul, no matter how tempting glass with inlaid sapphire was. "I think she be good for ye."
Scarecrow found no argument with the mouse. "But with all the women arriving..." Both Nick and Terryck were right of course and he hated that fact since it meant that he was practically placing Dorothy in the direct line of fire.
"Open yer mouth, that's it." Flora said so she could check his dental work. "Ye be forgetting that Dorothy be a grown woman. I knew ye knew her when she wasn't, but she be now. And grown woman can take care of themselves well enough. I bet she be as fierce as a dragon when cornered." She tapped his chin to indicate she was finished. "All straight and lookin healthy. Just be lettin meh check yer hands and we can be lettin ye go."
Scarecrow took off the white gloves as Flora crawled down his arm, dodging her other subjects as they worked on those tiny repairs they found. The Scarecrow's hands looked like any other human's, with his nail carved out of the inside of a conch shell. Despite that, he was still more comfortable in gloves, just like he still insisted on a black hat, a throwback to the days before he was king.
Flora tested what made up his bones, joints, muscles, and tendons of each hand, spending more time on them due to their complexity and importance. "If ye be lettin ye worry bout the girl take over, then ye won't be able to care for her true self." She said wisely as she worked.
Scarecrow knew he could speak freely, the field mice were the types to keep their ears, and what they heard, to themselves. But he still was not comfortable with the idea of speaking about Dorothy out loud. "But I don't know what she thinks."
"Bah!" Flora said as she grabbed a small needle in order to test his reflexes. "Don't be lettin that hold ye back." She pricked the cloth skin in choice spots, satisfied at the minute reaction. "First, ye be quite the catch, I had made sure of that mehself, and second," She leaned on the needle like it was a walking stick, the point stuck in the table. "These things be takin time. There be no point in worrin what she be feelin now when that can be changin in the future. So just be doin what comes natural."
Scarecrow figured Flora knew what she talking about. "I guess." He muttered weakly just as feeling started to come back to him in his leg. It was a tingling sore feeling. Other areas of his body started to return to normal senses, bringing more soreness, as the mice gathered up their material and finally left him alone.
That was the trade off. Once upon a time Scarecrow did not know what pain was, his old body was immune to it, he could fall apart and be put back together without a care in the world. But it was not sturdy or graceful, and was most certainly not respectable like a king should be. This new one was strong, sturdy, graceful in it's movement, and most importantly, looked like it belonged to a king that should, nay, deserved to be respected. But it brought with it the ability to hurt, to feel pain. If he was torn apart, as falling apart was no longer an option, it would take the delicate specialization of the field mice to put him back together, but the pain would be devastating. It brought him new fears, but also new courage and new empathy. It was a fair trade off in his eyes.
"Ye best be gettin dressed now." Flora said as she tapped the crown and the crisp black hat that sat on the table with her needle. "Ye need not bein late now."
Scarecrow grabbed his two headpieces. "And whose fault would that be?" He grumbled. But he still went over to where his best suit had be laid out. It resembled his normal everyday dress but was noticeably more regal. A pressed pitch black ceremonial suit with fine gold braiding and medals of office, plain black pants, an equally black cape that attached to the shoulders with gold fastenings in the shape of crows, polished black shoes, pure white gloves, and, new too his usual ensemble, a green sash with gold trim.
By the time he was fully ready, the soreness was gone. He cut a good figure in the mirror if he did say so himself.
"Ye need one last thing dear." Flora said as she climbed up his outstretched arm, careful not too wrinkle the black cloth. "Let meh just tie this back." She carefully tied his hair back with an unobtrusive black tie. "There, now 'bout that last thing ye be needin."
"That wasn't it?" He said as he moved towards his door, ready to leave for the throne room.
The mouse stood straight, what she had to say was important. "Ye best be treatin Dorothy right, ye hear? Nevermind them other girls, never mind their fathers, never mind politics. This be 'bout you and her, no one else." Having said her peace the mouse queen jumped off his shoulder to slide down the door frame. She gave him one last nod before disappearing into the mouse hole in the molding, she herself wanted to get ready to watch the arrival of the guests.
Scarecrow was left standing there with his hand on the doorknob, suddenly feeling frightened, but not about his current duty. Flora's word had shaken him, they sounded like too much too soon. 'I only figured out I liked Dorothy a few hours ago. Flora makes it sound like I'm in lo-' He shook his head. 'Forget it, she's just trying to help, she isn't always aware of what she says.'
Feeling better he strode out, confident and ready to meet who ever his heralds announced.
But he was mistaken about one thing. Flora, despite everything, was still a queen, and as a queen she was very aware of what she had said.
Dorothy was busy getting herself ready. She did not know what to expect from the soon to arrive guests. She figured they were important people and should be respected, but before coming to Oz the most important person Dorothy had contact was the town parson or the mayor that one time. Visiting kings and queens were in a completely different ballpark.
Dorothy had brushed her still slightly damp hair till her scalp hurt. She had picked out a blue dress again, her default color choice. It was a habit from Kansas where blue made up her Sunday best, normally she wore plain browns and grays, as she could not afford more. And while the seamstresses had finished with her wardrobe, which held quite a bit of green that complimented her eyes, Dorothy found blue to be more comforting.
She found a band decorated with blue crystals in the shape of flowers for around her forehead, lightly touched up her face with some makeup, and grabbed her new emerald bracelet.
Feeling the cool metal on her wrist she suddenly felt lost in thought. Unlike Scarecrow, Dorothy did not have the benefit of speaking with anyone after she had left him. The bracelet brought back thoughts that she did not really want to be thinking of right now. 'What do I think of him, truly?' She asked herself. 'Is there really something there?' She could not deny the possibility any longer, not after they had spent the evening in hidden areas of the palace.
She bent down to smooth out Toto's black fur and make sure his new green collar was on comfortably. "What am I doing Toto?" She asked her pet. She really did like being around Scarecrow, to hold his arm or listen to one of stories about Oz. Someone about him made her feel good, and not just when he complimented her. She felt in inexplicable force in him drawing her near. And she knew exactly what all this meant. "Do I really have a crush on one of my oldest friends?"
Toto did not have an answer for her.
"Ah dad, do we have too?" Amani whined as he rolled onto his back, paws in air.
"Don't sit in a chair like that." Lionel scolded as he watched his son through the reflection in the mirror as he adjusted his waistcoat. "And yes, that is part of the reason you came."
"But it's boring." Shanti added from the floor in front of the chair her brother was still incorrectly lounging in.
"I'm surprised Shanti," Cleo said as she applied scented oil to the back of her ears. "I thought you liked seeing the guests arrive. Everyone is all dressed up."
"But it's the same people every year. And they're all really mean." Shanti said strongly.
"Yea," Her brother agreed. "And Uncle Scarecrow won't have any time for us, and he doesn't even like any of them."
"Uncle Nick and Aunt Nimmie and Miss Lily will all be too busy too." Shanti whined. "And I bet Miss Dorothy will be also, everyone always is during the ball."
"I see you aren't terribly worried about us." Lionel said under his breath.
"I'm sorry kids." Cleo said diplomatically. "But that is why Hungry Tiger is here of course. Don't you play with him?"
"But we see Uncle Tigris all the time, it's not the same." Amani pouted.
The two older lions looked at each other and seemed to reach a joint decision silently. "Alright," Lionel said. "How about instead of coming to the throne room, Tigris can take you to the balcony to watch the processions. Nimmie will most likely be up there too."
The two cubs perked up. That sounded like a much better deal. "And we won't have to wear itchy clothes?"
"Nope."
"Or have our fur brushed till it hurts?"
"Not at all."
"And we won't have to act all polite to boring mean princesses?"
"This sounds like a better deal." Lionel joked to his mate.
Cleo laughed and gave him a playful shove. She waited until the cubs scampered out to tell their babysitter the good news. "You really think it will be okay if they don't come?" She asked as she adjusted her jewelry. She was wearing a peachy pink stola with a chain of pink crystals on her head, a slightly larger teardrop piece hung down to rest on her brow. It was a subdued look yet rather refined, which was exactly the look she was going for. It would just not do to dress more elaborately than those visiting the king, it would be seen as an insult. She did think the unspoken rule was rather ridiculous, but she was wise enough to know that not everyone thought the way she did.
"I don't think they will be missed." He responded. "They have such a hard time behaving for such a long time anyways." Lionel was also dressed more subtly. He was in a light cream regimental coat with pale gray trim, his pants and waistcoat were also of the same pale smoky gray. The medal in his mane stood out in comparison but he was not about to remove it. The pair of lions did not match exactly, but Lionel did wear a small pin of pink and peach crystals on his chest and Cleo had a few smoky grey bangles on her wrists.
"You have a point." Cleo said as she grabbed her clutch. She went to the bedroom door and yelled out. "We're leaving! Shanti! Amani! You can at least walk us to the throne room."
The cubs did not argue the point and soon enough the family plus the Hungry Tiger were hurryingly making their way toward the throne room. They had time of course, but the two adults were expected to be early what with being the archduke and archduchess.
They rushed at a brusk stroll, Cleo telling Tigris what was expected of him. "Once the processions are finished you can bring them back to our chambers. We probably won't be back till late."
"You won't be wanting them during the dinner?" Tigris asked. Despite his nickname it was an innocent question. He would not be allowed in the dining hall anyways if the cubs did attend.
Cleo shook her head. "It might be best if they don't. Some of the younger guests really aren't that accommodating to cubs. Make sure they get their dinner and are asleep by bedtime." That she did not need convincing for. The cubs never went to state dinners. They tried once and while the cubs were on their best behavior, many of the other guests could not help but sneer which Cleo and Lionel did not appreciate. The children were acting more grown up than the grown ups! No, dinner was out. She had intended for them to be in the throne room to see the arrival of the guests, showing up as a family was protocol, but having come since they were old enough to, it was obvious that all those long hours were akin to torture for them.
Meanwhile all the servants parted like waves before them, turning to bow until they passed. Because of this they made it down to one of the side entrances of the throne room in record time. Already there was a small group of courtiers mingling and waiting to be let in. Lionel was relieved that Crombec did not appear to have arrived yet. But there was a face he was glad to see.
"Nick! Nimmie!" He waved. "Over here."
The Tin Man and the blacksmith spotted the lions and made their way over. Nick was looking more polished and oiled than ever, his heart shaped medal on his chest. Nimmie however was not dressed up. She looked nice no doubt, fashionable even, but denim pants, a red shirt, sunglasses, and a brown jacket did not exactly mesh with the elegance around her. She clearly was not planning on staying, even if she was allowed. While Scarecrow could have easily made an exception, it would not change the fact that she was not an archduchess yet, and all it would accomplish would be successfully upsetting some people. While Nimmie was the type to make waves, she did not seem them as worth it in this case.
"Hey guys." She greeted. She looked down to greet the cubs. "And what's this? You two look as underdressed as me. More than actually."
The siblings giggled. They were just in their furs, being more comfortable walking on four paws unlike their parents who choose to walk on two. "Mom and dad said we can go to the balcony to watch the processions this year instead of having to wait in the throne room." They explained, each one trying to speak over the other.
"That means you can come with me." She said. "I'm going to the balcony too."
This cheered the cubs up even more than they already were, causing them to prance around Nimmie's feet in excitement. To them Nimmie was the cool one, the one that let them get away with anything, as long as no one got hurt of course. She most certainly would turn a blind eye if the cubs had a spitting contest over the balcony edge.
"Hey Nick," Lionel motioned for him to come closer so they could talk without being overheard. "Did you get a chance to talk to him?"
The Tin Man nodded. "Yes, but I'm not sure how much he heard. But I did find out something interesting."
"Oh? Pray tell." The lion sounded like an eager gossip.
Nick lowered his voice even more. "I think there actually is something going on between Scarecrow and Dorothy."
"What!" Lionel straightened in surprise.
Nick grabbed Lionel's shoulder to keep him down to his level. "Shhh! Do you have any idea what will happen if that gets out."
"Sorry." Lionel whispered back. "But are you sure?"
"Not really to be honest." Nick admitted. "He did not say anything at all. But something about his body language and the way he responded to me has me guessing that it is a strong possibility."
Lionel nodded. His friend was rather good at figuring people out, he claimed that it was part of having a heart. "So does that change anything?" If it was at any other time of the year the two friend would have been happy for this revelation. Maybe a little reserved for their friends' sake, but happy. Now it just filled them with apprehension.
"Not right now. Try to talk to him like we planned and we'll see where to go from there."
With a pat on the shoulder and a shared nod, they parted. Just in time too since Nimmie and Cleo were about to attempt to get their attention and let them know that the group was about to part ways.
Nick got a quick kiss from Nimmie and Lionel gave the cubs a reminder to obey Tigris and Nimmie. And with that the small group splintered off.
Dorothy wandered the halls, a little lost. Her first problem was that while she was rather famous, she did not have the lions' class rank that made the servants part before her. And second of all she was unsure of where she was supposed to be going. Scarecrow had explained the night before during the trip back from stained glass chamber that there were certain rules. These rules that said only those of noble rank were allowed in the throne room to greet the guests, despite the fact that a few of the guests did not have rank at all. Scarecrow was apologetic about this. He may be king but upsetting these people would do him more harm than good. There was a loophole though, as a hero she could get in. But Dorothy did not feel comfortable taking such advantages and getting on the wrong foot with some very important people. Having some noble angry at her was the last thing she wanted. At first he seemed disappointed but then tried to make her not feel bad about her choice. He tried to explain just how boring it was and that Dorothy was lucky to not have to be there. She still felt bad, even if it was ultimately her own decision. It was not about not being able to see the guests, though she was curious. She was upset that she would not be able to spend more time with Scarecrow. It's not like she would be able to be near him anyways, not with so many people around, which is how she based her decision. She was not sure if this was selfish or not.
He did mention a certain balcony to watch the guests arrive which did help. The directions did not seem that hard but she had forgotten just how big the palace was and got turned around. She finally decided to do the smart thing and just ask someone.
"Excuse me," She stopped a passing servant with a vase of flowers. "Could you tell me where the throne room is?" She figured the throne room would be the easiest place to get directions to, then she could get her bearings and ask someone there for the balcony. And she also figured that if this particular balcony was supposed to have a good view of the front of the palace then the throne room would not be too far out of the way.
The servant nearly dropped the vase when he saw who he was talking too. He stumbled over his words nervously but Dorothy managed to understand what he was telling her.
"Got it, thank you." She said kindly as she left, just missing the faint blush on the boy's cheek.
With a new sense of confidence Dorothy practically flew down stairs and hallways. She was quickly on the ground floor and figured she was near the throne room. 'Lionel or Nick should be there, I can ask them where I need to go.'
She never ended up getting the chance. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Still moving at a dead run, her instincts had suddenly told her to stop just as she was taking a corner. She planted her feet and braced a hand on the corner wall, but there was no way she could stop in time.
She then suddenly felt strong hands on her arms, helping bring her to a stand still.
"We have got to stop meeting like this Dorothy."
Dorothy looked up, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden stop. "You may be right about that."
Scarecrow smiled down at her. He waited until she was steady on her feet before letting go of her arms. He was about to walk around that very same corner Dorothy was barreling towards. She had not consciously known that, but some part of her was clearly more aware of his presence, otherwise they would have most certainly collided.
Dorothy cleared her throat. "Sorry about that." She said embarrassingly. "I was trying to find that balcony you had told me about and..." She trailed off when she noticed that the king was not alone. She felt more self conscious now that she had an audience.
Scarecrow noticed her discomfort. "Oh yes. Gracchus, I would like you to meet Dorothy. Dorothy, this is Gracchus, he's my majordomo, an assistant if you will."
Dorothy had grown up around horses, and she had naturally been around men. But she did not realize the combination would be so large. She had seen some centaurs in the city the day before, but never this close. She felt like she was straining her neck looking up at him. "Pleased to meet you." She said with an unpracticed curtsy, unsure of the proper etiquette.
Gracchus bit back a laugh. "It is my pleasure to be introduced to the savior of Oz and the one who put our lord on his throne." He held out a hand which engulfed Dorothy's when she shook it. "What is this about a balcony, you wish to watch the processions?" Something in the centaur's voice seemed slightly confused and looked down at his king questionably.
Scarecrow did not answer the glance. "Yes, she had mentioned wanting to see our guests and that particular balcony has the best view does it not?"
Gracchus knew that tone well enough to keep his mouth shut.
"Anyway," He turned his attention to Dorothy. "You are near the stairway that will take you there." He gave her the instructions, pointing out the way she should go and making her repeat them.
"I think I got it, thank you." She felt a tinge of disappointment. Was he really going to try to get rid of her so quickly? Logically she knew not the expect anything else, he was needed elsewhere, but she could not help herself. "I'll just be on my way then." She moved to pass them.
Scarecrow himself also felt bad about practically shooing her away and did not want her to leave on such a down note. "Dorothy?" She whirled around at her name. "There will be a dinner tonight, a state dinner. The protocol is a little different and so I want to invite you as a guest."
Dorothy brightened up considerably. "Oh yes! Thank you! I would love to come." There was a faint sound of distant trumpets, just enough to remind Dorothy of her original destination. "I should be going now. See you later!" She practically skipped off, unexpectedly feeling on cloud nine.
Scarecrow watched her go. He could not help himself. Her black hair trailed behind her and the skirt of her dress flapped around her shapely legs. He could have easily kept staring at her retreating form if it was not for the centaur with him.
"Sire, forgive my ignorance." Gracchus coughed, trying to subtly bring his king back down to earth. "But am I to understand that Dorothy will not be in attendance in the throne room?"
Scarecrow collected himself to pay attention. "That is right."
"Hmmmm," The centaur scuffed a rubber shod hoof on the floor. "And this is because..."
Scarecrow sighed. "Because people are very easily offended these days. Dorothy does not have any rank nor is on the official guest list. I would have liked her to come, but that's the way it is."
Gracchus felt that Scarecrow was brushing this off to easily. "Dorothy is a hero, that would certainly supersede protocol."
Scarecrow did not answer right away. "I know that. But can you imagine the reaction? From Rosette and the others?"
The centaur used his imagination. "That...would be bad." He admitted. "A fine mess really."
"I didn't lie to her, if you are thinking that." Scarecrow spoke up. "I did want her to come and told her that being a hero would allow her in. But she didn't want to cheat her way in." There was a touch of a smile on his face, of course a teacher like her would say it that way.
"I'm glad you didn't, but I was thinking about the dinner invitation." Gracchus said. "If you are worried about the reaction to Dorothy, do you really think things will be better at dinner?"
"Not really, but they will be forced to be more civil." It was funny how a location change could change the rules. "Though I still feel like I'm throwing a lamb in with the vultures."
"So then why are you putting her out there?"
Scarecrow remembered all of what Flora had said. 'I can not protect her forever.' "Because," He sighed. "There maybe there is a wolf inside that lamb."
Dorothy found the balcony easily enough and was welcomed by Nimmie, Hungry Tiger, and the cubs. Turns out that their particular balcony was not the only one, as evidenced by other small ones on different towers being occupied by other watchers. But this one was clearly special. It was a large half circle of pure white stone with a matching stone balustrade to prevent anyone from falling off. The outside of the balcony was decorated with gold filigree. That and that fact that it was directly over the front entrance told Dorothy that this was usually reserved for the king's use.
It gave a great view. They were very high up, carefully leaning over the stone edge, Dorothy could see the palace guards standing at attention under them, looking almost like mice or insects. One was giving orders from the back of a big black horse. 'That must be Obsidian and the captain of the guard.'
The horse and captain did not mill around but instead turned to gallop down the entry path. The path was long, over half a mile if Dorothy could hazard a guess, and led to the main gatehouse on the palace wall. The path itself was also of smooth white stones. It was technically a bridge, the grassy land of the palace had dropped in elevation, the bridge itself was supported by many archways. Dorothy could see the defensive purpose of such a design. The bridge was rather high, dangerously so, and surprisingly narrow. Anyone who invaded would be forced to marched only a few men abreast and risk falling to their deaths, while archers could pick them off from below, concealed behind rock and bush, or above in the safety of the towers.
Dorothy watched the horse's black form, standing out so strongly against the bridge, until they disappeared through the gatehouse, most likely to greet the arrivals when they first showed up. Dorothy could scarcely see what was happening in the city. Occasionally she saw a banner or heard a cheer from the streets.
"They aren't going to be here yet." Shanti said, bracing her front paws next to Dorothy. "The less important people come first so that way the more important people don't have to wait around as long." She explained. "And because whoever comes last has the most people watching them, that means they are remembered better. Those that come early are usually forgotten." The little female cub wanted to impress Dorothy with her knowledge. She had grown up listening to her father's stories and having the Savior of Oz right there with her as on level with meeting Robin Hood or Scheherazade. Shanti practically had stars in her eyes.
"You know an awful lot don't you Shanti." Dorothy smiled kindly. The cub's explanation made sense to her though she did not think that was how it was done back in her world.
"Oh yes!" The cub bounced at the praise. "I often pay attention when with mother and father."
Amani snorted and made a face. "Don't listen to her, she lies."
"I do not!" Shanti glared, upset that her brother was making her look bad in front of Dorothy.
"Do to!" He responded.
The two cubs went off into that traditional childhood battle of "do not, do too" which would have lasted longer if Hungry Tiger did not grab them by the scruff of their necks and separate them.
"What did your mother, and I, tell you about fighting?" The tiger scolded.
Shanti looked away, shamefaced with drooping ears. "He started it."
He tapped a paw impatiently. "That does not answer my question."
The girl huffed. "That we shouldn't fight with each other. Especially around other people."
"That's right, now apologies to our friends. You too Amani." The tiger insisted. This was not the first time he had to watch the cubs and this sort of occurrence happened often.
"We're sorry for fighting Aunt Nimmie and Miss Dorothy." Shanti said, her brother echoing her. They were both clearly embarrassed by having to do this, Shanti especially, making the lesson much more likely to stick than it they had been yelled at.
Nimmie apparently was all too familiar with this form of discipline. "We forgive you, just try not to do it again."
The two cubs were much more subdued and stayed quietly by the balustrade, looking down. Right now there was some activity down below, but if what Shanti said was correct, these people were not very important. Indeed, they were walking alone or in pairs with no attendants or fanfare. This left Dorothy and Nimmie to talk together.
There was something Nimmie was dying to ask her, but was not sure how to bring it up. It was times like this she wished she was more eloquent like Cleo or Lily. "So Dorothy," She said, figuring this was as good a place to start from. "I was wondering about something."
Dorothy looked up from trying to figure out just what sort of people were below to look at her friend. "About what?"
"Well, when you told your story, you mentioned you woke up after using the ruby slippers. So did you think it was a dream or not? You weren't very clear."
Dorothy had to think back. "I suppose I wasn't." She admitted. "It's kinda hard to explain. Like I both believed Oz to be real and at the same time a dream. I had accepted both explanations." She saw that Nimmie did not understand. "Okay, let me say it like this. I think what happened to me after I used the ruby slippers was that I ended up getting hurt, like I landed too hard or the tornado storm was still going on and something hit my head. Whatever it was, I was found outside, no one knew I had initially run inside, and taken back to the house. There I woke up, and when I talked about Oz everyone thought it was a product of a concussion." That got a snort from the red head. "I didn't think so, but hearing it so often made me wonder. I think I started to worry poor old Auntie Em, that I was going crazy for believing in Oz. No doubt she would have sent me away for help. So I started to pretend that I thought Oz was a dream, an interesting dream to be sure, but just a dream. That calmed her down, the bump on my head didn't rattle my brains as much as she thought."
"So that's what happened? You lied often enough that you started to believe the lie, even knowing that it was a lie?"
Dorothy winced internally, Nimmie had a way of being blunt that's for sure. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. I didn't ever think I would be back though so at the time it really didn't matter." She sighed, starting to trail off. "I used to tell my class about Oz, as a reward for good behavior or if the whole class did well on a test. Worked every time." She started to daydream, remembering those long ago days.
Nimmie saw that she was quickly losing control of the conversation. "So what about your friends. Nick, Lionel, and Scarecrow. You thought of them right?"
"I did. I figured that everything turned out for them alright, which it did, but I did miss them a lot."
Nimmie slid up closer to Dorothy. "And maybe one more than the others?" She smiled conspiratorially.
Dorothy back away a little, face feeling a little red. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on." Nimmie kept smiling. "I heard all about it. Did you not tell Scarecrow that you would miss him the most?"
Now Dorothy felt like her face was on fire. "I don't- it wasn't-" She felt trapped, how she get herself into this predicament?
Nimmie's smile turned teasing. "Sounds like someone had a crush." She said in a sing-song voice.
Dorothy looked over at the cubs and Tigris to see if they over heard, but it didn't seem like it. "You are a vile woman." Dorothy muttered as she rejoined Nimmie.
The red head gave a small squeal and clapped happily. "Oh I knew it!"
"Look, let me explain. I was young and completely on my own in a different country. Different world actually. I was alone and afraid. And here comes Scarecrow, offering to help me and stick by me, well of course I'd feel something affectionate." Dorothy had honestly forgotten about that little tidbit, it was just a youthful detail that the older Dorothy saw as unimportant. It suddenly stopped being unimportant. "It didn't mean anything, just a puppy crush, that's all."
"So that means you don't have a crush on him right now?" Now she was getting into the heart of the matter.
Dorothy avoided her friend's gaze. "Well..." She rubbed her arm in awkwardness, in the very same place Scarecrow had grabbed to keep her from falling twice already. "Maybe I do..." She admitted in a voice barely above a squeak.
'Bingo!' Nimmie mentally gave herself a pat on the back. "Is that so?" She tried to sound surprised.
"Look, it's nothing alright?" Dorothy insisted. "It doesn't mean anything, it'll go away." What was she doing, letting Nimmie get this out of her? It was one thing for it to be completely in her head, but quite another to voice it out in the open. It seemed more real. "Please don't tell anyone."
Nimmie clapped the black haired woman on the shoulder. "Don't worry about. And between you and me," She leaned closer so Dorothy could hear. "I don't think it's anything to get upset over."
Dorothy was silent at that. Nimmie turned to pay more attention to what was going on below them, letting Dorothy have her thoughts to herself. 'Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm getting too upset when I shouldn't. I mean, why fight it if I think it'll go away anyways?' She sighed. 'Maybe I'll just let it happen. Scarecrow is a nice guy after all. It's not like I'm in lo-'
Her thoughts got cut off by an excited whoop from one of the cubs. Apparently one of Oz's allies was approaching, causing a louder cheer. Dorothy decided that she needed to stop brooding and to start paying attention to what was going on around her.
She was not sure if it was the festive atmosphere or the privately made decision, but Dorothy could easily say that she had not felt this excited in years.
Delicate cream fingers tapped on the carriage wood with impatience. Not too hard of course, she did not want to mar her nail job. This was the worst part, waiting. Before her were her father's marchers, military men and women, some with lavender and robin's egg blue banners and others with marching instruments. And before them another carriage with another pretty girl. 'Well, not all that pretty.' She thought haughtily. 'And poor dear has to go before me.' But still, they did have a little while longer to wait for their turn.
"Are you alright Rosette?" The marquess from Laynevale asked. He was a plump weak looking man, the type that would easily spoil his daughter rotten and never see the harm. "You seem uneasy."
Rosette put on that perfect charming smile and brushed back a strand of her crimped blonde hair. "I'm alright father. I am just anxious to see the king again."
The little man sighed happily at his little girl and patted her on the hand. "Oh my dear. I know you fancy him so. I am certain that this year will be the year." It pained him that he could not get his daughter what he wanted. The throne of the queen of Oz was not something he could just purchase or barter for.
Rosette knew that of course, she was quite capable of getting what she wanted herself. And she always got what she wanted. "I am hopeful father." She said sweetly before completely ignoring him.
"Milday!" A voice called over milling crowd. It was Count Crombec astride his dapple grey horse which was trying to delicately pick it's way around people.
"Crombec." Rosette acknowledged dryly.
The count finally managed to come right upside the carriage to speak with the woman. His horse snorted disdainfully at the carriage horses, they were not talking animals like himself, he should not even have to share the street with them! But Crombec ignored his steed's attitude. "Lady Rosette, it is an honor to see you once again-"
"Cut the chatter Geoffrey, were you successful or not?"
Count Crombec and his horse were a little taken back by her attitude, but Rosette was a beautiful woman and so easily forgiven by lonely men. "I am afraid not. King Scarecrow's lackey Archduke Lionel ended up making me a laughing stock. I did not gain any footing."
Rosette's nails dug into her flesh. "Then maybe you should not have set yourself up so easily you idiot!" She shouted.
Now that was going too far. Crombec's horse backed up a few paces and the count looked at her as if their business was concluded. Rosette herself realized her mistake, a slight glace behind them showed a line of those more powerful and more important than her family. She needed Crombec more than he needed her.
She made a slight noise in her throat, as if she was terribly upset about something. "Apologies Lord Count." She made sure her throat caught and pulled out a white handkerchief, it stood out against her emerald green gown. She pretended to dab her eyes. "I have just been so dreadfully worried. Your king had caught my heart and yet nothing I do can make me catch his eyes. I had hoped you were eloquent and clever enough to help me."
"I apologize fair lady." Crombec said. He did not honestly believe her, but the weak sadden image she conjured did tug at his heartstrings. "I shall try harder in the future."
"Oh you're not serious." The dapple horse muttered into his bit, just earning himself a slight kick from his rider.
Rosette seemed to miraculously regain her composure. "I believe you will Count Crombec." She replaced the handkerchief to it's place in her corset, noting with self satisfaction that Crombec was paying the movement a little too much attention. "Now, is there something you wished to see me about. You would not have come all the way out here for this. They will notice your missing in the throne room."
"I snuck out. The king takes too much interest in the professors and artists he invites. I will return before I am missed." He seemed pleased that she was concerned for him. "But I do wish to tell you something, something I have heard that others have verified." He crooked a finger, indicating that she needed to lean in as he was not about to speak it out loud.
Rosette leaned as far over the carriage side as she dared, eager for the news he was bringing. It must be important.
"Dorothy has returned to Oz." He whispered harshly.
At first Rosette did not understand the message. But then she remembered what she had read about King Scarecrow's assent to the throne. It was helped by a young girl named Dorothy who had also killed both of the wicked witches. "THE Dorothy?" She asked. "But why would this concern me? She is just a young girl."
The count shook his head. "No. Time apparently passes differently in her home. She is now a young woman same as you."
That was cause for alarm. "I see." She said darkly. "And what is she like? Is she smart? Is she beautiful?"
"I am not sure, I have not seen her myself. But I do know King Scarecrow counts her as a friend."
Rosette's pretty jaw set, preventing her from speaking right away. 'A friend?' She felt her blood boil. 'Then she is already head of me.' This Dorothy was a threat, there was no doubt in her mind about that. But Rosette had ways of dealing with threats, of dispensing rivals. It would all be too easy. Maybe she would not have to even use force. What did they say Dorothy was called? The Small and Meek? Oh Yes. This would not be a setback in the least. "I see." She said coolly once she regained her composure. "Thank you Count Crombec for this information. It is most interesting."
Crombec knew that his time was up. The king would not stay so interested in his guests for too much longer and he still had to make it back to the palace. But he lingered. He did not like the marquess' daughter on a personal level, and did question what would become of Oz if she did succeed as queen. But Rosette held such charm and poise that Crombec had been ensnared all too easily, like a fly in a spider's web. He often wondered how his king could continually resist her charms, never thinking that maybe King Scarecrow was not as lonely in his personal life as the count.
Rosette noted that her admirer had not left. "What? Is there something else?" She demanded in annoyance. Honestly, could he not see that she did have a duty of sitting perfectly for when their turn in the procession came up?
Crombec tugged on the reins to wheel his horse around. "No, sorry. I shall be going now." He paused. "Will I get to see you-"
"Maybe." She said simply and turned away from him.
The count finally knew it was time to go. He urged his horse forward, not caring if he jostled or disrupted the crowds.
"You are a fool Geoffrey," His horse scolded as they raced back to the palace. "To allow that woman such power over you."
The count did not have anything to say to correct him.
Flora was inspired by the Queen of the Field Mice from the book, though obviously is completely different otherwise. Don't ask about the accent cause I don't know, it just seemed to fit. And lookie! It's Rosette! Better get used to seeing her around.