Yay! My first fanfic! I know it's short, but ya gotta start somewhere. Please review! I love constructive criticism.

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Tainted Blood
Chapter 1 The Peasant Rescues the Princess

Liir wondered if she was okay. This girl who he had never met before had somehow taken a hold on his heart. Dorothy was the only girl he had ever met aside from Nor and a few girls in the care of Mother Yackle long ago. He couldn't help but worry for her. The woman he had known as Auntie Witch had shown herself to be someone to fear. Liir feared her. He didn't want her to hurt Dorothy.

He had to get to her.

The poor frightened Lion was cowering in a corner, shuddering in his fear and misery. He will be no help, thought Liir. But I can do it. I'll save her. He tried turning the handle of the door. Locked. I'll have to break in. He began to examine what was around him, hoping that he could find something that would help him.

There was nothing on the walls. The Witch did not enjoy ornamentation on her tower and there was nothing on the walls, save for an odd piece of glass that she kept hanging in her room and a shelf that held a book she often read while muttering words to herself that he could not understand. There was not much on the ground. Only a few straws from the Witch's broom and a blue plaid ribbon that he imagined must be Dorothy's. The straws he left. The ribbon he picked up and placed in the pocket of his shirt.

He heard shouting that he recognized as Auntie Witch's voice. The voices were followed by a whimpering plead that must have been Dorothy's. The whimpering was like setting gas to a match in Liir's heart. He wouldn't wait to find something. He had to get in there now. With every ounce of strength that he could find he hurled himself at the door, ramming it with his shoulder.

With each boom of his shoulder against the door, Liir's mind filled with thoughts. This time, the Witch can't tell me to stay back and be quiet. Boom. Liir will win!Boom. And she will thank me. Boom. Dorothy will thank me, maybe even kiss me once again. Boom. She is like a princess, and the peasant will rescue her from this tower. Boom. I'll be a hero.

Liir's shoulder throbbed. He nearly cried out in pain, but he wouldn't stop. Finally, after what felt like thousands of anguishing blows, the door gave way. Liir collapsed onto the floor of the Witch's chamber, a small splash of water coming up from where he had landed.

"Liir!" Dorothy's panicked voice met his ears. He clumsily stood to his feet, splashes of water littering his side. He looked at Dorothy to make sure she was safe. She stood in a corner, shuddering violently and pointing at something on the floor. He looked to where he was pointing. There was a pile of wet black fabric that spurted steam around the brim of a pointed black hat. A singed broom lay nearby.

The Witch was dead.

After recovering from the initial shock of the scene, he turned to look again at Dorothy.

"I didn't mean to do it," she whispered. The shining shoes on her feet scrambled as she ran to him and threw her arms around him. She sobbed into his chest and squeezed him close. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident. I'm so sorry!"

Liir was stunned at the sudden display of emotion. A tear dripped down his cheek, not for the death of Auntie Witch, but for the sorrow Dorothy showed. Tenderly, he wrapped his arm around her back and stroked her soft brown pigtails. Like spun silk, he thought.

She continued to cry. Liir could feel the tears soaking through his shirt. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "It's okay. You didn't mean to. I'm here."