Disclaimer: Have yet to collar ownership of Tin Man, please don't impound me.
Author's Note: So sometime after the original planning of this story but before, I think, the actual writing, it occurred to me that I was forgetting someone. I am apparently not the only one, as I got immense joy out of tormenting Bookworm Gal regarding the identity of this narrator, and even with hints she didn't get it. Honestly, it was the most fun I've gotten out of the bastard. He really doesn't do much – besides drive me insane. And having written and rewritten this stupid thing six or seven times, I am declaring myself free to forget him again. Perhaps permanently. Queen, mind giving me a hand with that?
Author's Note 2: I don't know if y'all have noticed, but the fanfic site has introduced a new Image Manager thingy so that you can put a pic or 'book cover' to your stories. Not being a stupendous illustrator at present, I was toying with the notion of maybe having a contest or something to create an image to represent the Gulchverse – maybe the crest for the House of Gulch or something like that. Just a thought. Anyone interested?
...
Tutor had come to enjoy these afternoon strolls of his; they hearkened back to days of yore and allowed him to see the various comings and goings of the palace. He felt, at times, more an observer than an active member in the lives of the Royal Family. Time was when he had been, if not the hub, at least near the center of the princesses' young lives. But that time existed now only on the far side of the rainbow, the life he had known altered irrevocably by annuals of separation and betrayal. The princesses had grown in his absence, found other teachers – for good or ill – and all that remained for him was to fill in the gaps in their education. Mourn the past though he may, the old Royal Tutor had come to accept a fate that was perhaps better than he deserved. Besides he never did know what these little rambles of his would turn up.
Cocking his head to the right, he surveyed the sign proclaiming in Cain's broad hand: The thought may count, but endangering the Crown Princess is endangering the Crown Princess. Below it the princess in question had scrawled: No good deed goes unpunished. An Otherside maxim, no doubt, and oddly accurate at that. One generally did not find tin suits decorating the halls of the noble apartments, but none could fail to recognize the fell hand of the Tin Man at work – and know better than to interfere. With a last glance at the sheepishly smiling lordling within, Tutor deemed it best to move his preamble elsewhere.
He had always found a brisk walk good for clearing the mind, now he found meandering his way through the palace was even more beneficial for contemplating the course of his life. They didn't really need him, the Royal Family, his reappointment being one more of sentiment than need. The eldest princess now knew more about the flow of light than her old teacher could hope to learn, and the youngest princess was, in fact, better educated in some subjects than some of the O.Z.'s leading scientists (no one had bothered much with biology until the Sorceress had developed a pressing need to rip a man's brain out, and keep it alive in the process). Truth be told, DG could probably learn what she needed about the O.Z. through the use of the relevant texts and a measure of self-discipline…
…then again maybe he was necessary.
The behaviour of the Queen and Consort in the Royal Conservatory, described by their youngest daughter as 'a second honeymoon' and by the older lords as 'oh no, not that again', was enough to send Tutor scampering back out again in search of less…intruding local. Some people resented the annuals the darkness had eaten, others merely seemed determined to make up for lost time. No question where their Majesties stood on the matter.
Azkadellia meanwhile…no one could fault her for wishing to bury her past, but to do so was deny a full half of her existence. She had always been the best at teaching DG how to manipulate the currents of light in the past, now she was reluctant to glimpse the depths of her knowledge too closely for fear of what she might find. It was perhaps a small recompense on his behalf that he could spare her this, because to teach another was to lay your understanding bare for the world to see, an understanding perhaps forever tainted…
A young guard hopped past backward on one leg extolling the Otherside virtues of super-califragilistic-expialidocious while down the hall Lord Fastidium tracked his progress with a bemused fascination. He wasn't the only one.
It frightened Tutor sometimes to think that the Othersider had had a slipper in supplementing the Crown Princess' education.
Though he supposed it could be worse, he considered as he trotted hastily away from where Ambrose's attempt at inventing a new tracking device and Glitch's endeavour to re-invent some Otherside artifacts for the princess were having the alarming tendency to morph into the same unintentional project. Officer Gulch at least managed to minimize the damage to other people.
Which probably explained why Raw was currently staring at a room filled with medical supplies muttering, "Plenty for Guard…sufficient for Army…Gulch…not enough…"
Dodging hastily out of the way of a flurry of maids, the old teacher realized it might be best if he found a quiet corner in which to do his pondering for a bit. Between the Eclipse Celebration and the upcoming nuptials of the Crown Princess, the palace was a veritable munchkin welcoming party of activity. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay out from underfoot. There were stewards swarming the wine cellars, lords and ladies flocking the chambers, the Royal Army seemed to be flooding the grounds, while the Royal Guard suddenly seemed to be haunting the service corridors…along with one princess.
Peering through the doorway to see what had caught their interest Tutor observed that Gulch had seen fit to commandeer the kitchen – an event of interest to anyone who'd had a taste of the guard commander's cooking. Unfortunately, he'd been interrupted by DG's current attempt on the Tin Man's virtue. The old tutor wanted to sigh as he watched the youngest princess corner Cain beside the far door – well corner may not be entirely accurate as her betrothed was obviously torn between obeying the restrictions of O.Z. social mores or yielding to the obvious lures of Otherside freedoms.
The Royal Educator wished for perhaps the billionth time that her childhood lessons on etiquette and propriety hadn't been completely erased from her mind, because it had been tantamount to impossible to impress their importance on the grown version of the youngest princess. And apparently the eldest princess was having some memory issues of her own, at least where common courtesy was involved. It was enough to make any teacher despair. Turning a beady-eyed stare on his charge and the gathering of guards, the old teacher reminded them it was rude to eavesdrop.
Behind him in the kitchen, the overlooked and fairly disgruntled Othersider cleared his throat pointedly. The effect, Tutor discovered with a glance back, had been immediate. Cain had clearly tried to put a proper distance between himself and the princess, only to be thwarted by her hold on his shirt. The Tin Man's face was a picture of virtuous outrage and conscientious mortification, probably an unhealthy combination for witnesses to the cause. Officer Gulch, Tutor reflected, scratching at a stubborn spot under his chin, was probably the only man in the O.Z. who would dare roll his eyes in face of the resulting glare, let alone snort. In fact, he respectfully did both.
Deciding that the Othersider had the situation in the kitchen well enough in hand, the old teacher returned his attention to dispersing the audience. He had absolutely no authority over the guards, and as the Royal Educator only the most nominally technical influence over the eldest princesses, but he had been instructing children since he'd been a very young man. He had that Look, that intangible something in his expression that, when he chose to use it, seemed to peer right into the eyes of one's inner child, beckoning them forth. Sheepishly, the guards and one dignified princess responded to the faint calls of habitual childhood obedience and dispersed.
Well, most of them did anyhow. There'd probably not been a teacher in his life that could get Dawkins to do anything he didn't want to, and the Gillikin educational methods being what they were, they likely didn't respond to any teacher that couldn't gut them with a blade of grass. Gulch, Tutor figured, could handle them.
Overhearing him offer the betrothed pair a picnic basket in exchange for a stay of execution, it occurred to the O.Z. native that Officer Gulch's upbringing might have left him blind to the exact delicacy of the situation. More particularly why they couldn't be wandering off alone…but then again, he reassured himself, it was just a picnic. Besides, Cain was likely more than enough of a self-chaperone to frustrate DG's cross cultural advances.
Poor girl.
He'd feel worse for her if she hadn't clued Gulch in to his dual nature; the cop had given the most wonderful belly rubs…though the expression on his face had been priceless.
Giving himself a shake, Toto padded his way back down the corridor. He did like his walks, he never knew what he was going to find.
