Tale As Old As Time
Take a Walk in the Woods
I know I said I'd update Ever After first, but the Tale muses took everybody hostage and demanded that I write this on first. Thanks to all who have reviewed this, I know it's been a while. Enjoy!
"Would you stop looking at that every six clock-tiks please?"
Three feet away, the object of Glinda's current frustration chanced a glance at her, looking up from the map he'd been perusing at odd intervals since they'd started out.
"Well forgive me for trying to figure out where we are," Boq retorted. After two hours of enduring her icy silence and fiery glares he was beginning to grow equally frustrated with her.
"The forest changes, the map doesn't, ergo, the map is useless and staring at it isn't going to help that."
Boq had to admit she had a point, but that didn't make him feel any better. He'd never been lost before in his life. He'd hoped never to have the experience but apparently it wasn't in his cards. And Glinda's unexpected hostility wasn't helping things either. Briefly he wondered if it was him or the situation that had her so wound up. Then he noticed she was still glaring daggers at him and hastily discontinued that line of thought and refolded the map in an attempt to appease her.
As the Tinman tucked the map back into the bag strapped on his horse Glinda turned away. Her glare melted away only to be replaced the perpetual frown she'd been sporting since they'd come out of the gate.
"Are you sure you can't just bubble up to see where we are?"
Glinda's lips pressed into a firm line as he finished his question and he wished he hadn't asked it.
"We've been over this," She said in a dangerously quiet tone. "I can't control the bubble enough to get through the trees without my wand. Personally I'd rather be a little lost and intact than be a bloody mess after falling fifty feet out of a popped bubble."
That quieted him for a few minutes. When he'd gathered his courage he looked over to her and realized he suddenly had nothing to stare at but the back of her head and the rump of her horse. Deciding it wouldn't do to have the woman he was supposed to be protecting charging ahead of him he nudged his horse to speed up and fall in step with hers. It earned him another glare but he supposed he'd have to resign himself to many of those this trip.
"We should stop soon," he said after a few minutes. "The sun's going down, we need to set up camp before we lose all the light."
Glinda sighed, looking up to the sky that peeked through the canopy of trees. Brilliant shads of pinks and oranges had taken over the blue, announcing the departure of the sun with flair. As disappointed as she was that they wouldn't find civilization befor nightfall she had absolutely no desire to trek through the woods in the dark. They'd come across a few animals over the course of their ride. None were dangerous, but night brought out the worst in the wild.
"We need to let the horses drink and graze too," she finally agreed. "I can hear running water up ahead, we'll stop there."
Now that they had a destination in mind the rest of the day's ride flew by. Within a few minutes their horses were parked at the edge of a creek, drinking greedily. Glinda slid down from her horse, careful not to land in the water and went upstream a bit to get a drink of her own.
Once again Boq attempted to copy her moves; with much more clunky affects. He clattered down from his mount, just managing to avoid becoming a heap in the water.
Glinda watched him, and taking into account the Tinman's awkwardness around the horses decided who would be doing which chores in setting up camp for the night.
"Find a flat spot and get a fire going," she ordered. "I'll take care of the horses."
"Yes ma'am," the Tinman replied, relieved that he wouldn't be tending to the monstrous animals. They were okay to ride on, but he would be happy if he didn't have to go near them until morning.
He pulled the packs down from the horses' backs and carried them several yards away from the river. There was a thicket upstream and into the trees just a bit that he supposed would be the best place for shelter. He set the bags down at the base of a tree, pulled a hatchet from one of them and set out to gather firewood to last them through the night. He was careful to stay within eyesight of Glinda; if anything were to happen he wanted to be as close as possible.
Glinda stood watch while the horses had their fill of water, glad to be free of her accursed keeper for a little while. Of all the people for her to be lost in a forest with it had to be him. It had been bad enough when she hadn't been able to stop the Wizard from giving him a last minute spot on the guard; and that she couldn't keep Doneleise from promoting him to her personal detail. Now she had to deal with him one on one.
Secretly, in her deepest of hearts, she knew that her anger at him was slightly misplaced. It had less to do with the fact that he'd stirred so many into a witch-hunt –Morrible had been the real maestro behind that orchestration- and more to do with the fact that his mere presence brought many things she'd buried to the surface. He dredged up memories she couldn't bear to remember and questions she didn't want to contemplate. Memories of who she'd been and questions of who had just what to do with the deaths of those who had once been closest to her.
It was easier to hate him for being the Tinman; for being the leader of the Witch-hunt; for aiding Dorothy and her gang. But it wasn't easier to travel with him because she did.
An insistent nudge from her horse broke Glinda from her thoughts. The tug on the reins in her hand brought to her attention the grassy bank opposite where she stood holding the two horses. She looked incredulously at the two horses that were doing a rather good job of conveying what they wanted. She decided that simply letting them go wasn't the best idea, and pulled herself back up to the back of her horse so she could cross with them without getting wet.
Once on the other side she let them wander the bank to graze. And concentrated on shoving thoughts of the past back to the back of her mind.
An hour had passed before Glinda decided the horses had had their fill and took them back across the creek to where the Tinman had set up camp. It was dark by then and she was glad for the glow of firelight as she tied the horses to a sapling nearby and wearily went to join him near the fire.
He'd gotten into the packs and laid out a bedroll not far from the fire. He was fiddling with something in the coals and she realized it was a food-tin.
"Here," he said, transferring something from the hot tin to a clean, cold one. "I found a pool with trout around the creek bend. It's not much of a meal, but we don't know how long we'll be out here and I don't want to use up the emergency rations too fast."
Glinda accepted the tin and sat down on the bedroll to eat.
"There's fresh water in the canteen," he indicated the container near the edge of the blankets.
She hesitantly took a few bites of the fish. It was a little bland, but it was good, and more importantly it was food.
"Don't you eat?" She demanded when she realized he was watching her.
"No," he said simply.
"Sleep?" She gestured to the lack of another bedroll.
"No," he explained with the tired tone borne of having to do so too many times. "I don't need food, there's no place to put it. I don't need sleep, but I can sleep if I want. I don't feel pain, but a heavy enough blow can stop me for a few minutes and if I'm not careful I rust over."
Glinda looked a little disconcerted. It made perfect sense, but she'd never really given the matter any thought. Awkward silence descended over them as she finished eating. But it wasn't really silence. The bonfire popped, a bird called in the distance and the horses stamped around a bit, as they got comfortable for the night. All of it seemed suddenly loud. Though she knew the expanse of the forest around her, the world within the glow of the fire was far too small for comfort and she desperately wished she could click her heels and be home again.
She hurried through the rest of her dinner and set the tin next to the fire pit.
"I'll wash it in the morning," she said, hoping she could just go to bed and wake up to find this was all a dream.
The Tinman nodded.
"I won't bank the fire, it'll get too cold. You'll have to sleep with the light, I'm sorry."
Glinda didn't care. The light made things seem less oppressive, and the crackle of the flames was much more familiar than the rushing of the creek that it helped mask. She wondered if there was a spell in the Grimmerie that would muffle the sounds of the woods entirely, but decided that even if there were it would be hopeless to try to make it out in the light of the fire. So she left the Grimmerie in her pack and let the idea go.
She tugged off her boots and crawled into the bedroll, conscious of the Tinman's presence. At least he'd stopped watching her. Instead he stared resolutely ahead, as if he'd finally noticed her discomfort and tried to lessen it. She noticed his hatchet rested at his side and his revolver was clutched in one shiny hand.
The Tinman might have been a nuisance, and she promised herself that she still wasn't happy with him at all. But at least he was resolutely inclined to protect her. Confidant in that, Glinda let herself drift off to sleep.
Boq turned his gaze back to Glinda when he was certain she was sleeping deeply. The upper half of her face was the only thing that peeked out of the blankets. She looked innocent, angelic with her hair spilling around her head to create a halo in the firelight. For once she looked relaxed. The frown he'd come to expect was missing and she looked as beautiful as ever and more like the girl he'd fallen in love with years ago.
He wondered what had happened to that girl. The one with no cares but what the latest fashion trend was. The one who had seemed to brighten any room she went in. The one who had an endless supply of smiles and encouragement.
He supposed that girl wasn't really gone. After all Glinda the Good was nothing if not fashionable. And she hadn't stopped brightening things up in any sense of the word; whether by redecorating, delivering good news, or just the flash of camera bulbs as they followed her everywhere. She had nothing but smiles for her people, nothing but encouragement; even in the roughest of times in the aftermath of the Wizard's departure.
But it wasn't the same. There was a weight to her now. A burden she seemed to carry with flawless poise. It was a dark one, which tainted her voice as she delivered the most wonderful news to her adoring public. It kept the real joy from the styles she promoted. And it kept her smile from reaching her eyes most of the times. And, Boq new, the smiles ended behind closed doors. Like a mask they would fall away.
Her personal aide and servants had nothing but praise for her. But candidly they called her disenchanted. Her guards had the same praise, they would go on and on about her kindness and generosity. But off the record they admitted she was 'preoccupied' and 'aloof'. The meaner ones (mostly scorned wannabe suitors) had various nicknames. Most of them twists on her title having to do with ice and frigidity.
He wondered what had happened to turn the happy-go-lucky girl he had known at school to the woman who had a façade to fool everyone. Maybe the transformation was the price of becoming a leader, a real leader. But he wondered if the cost was worth it.
He stared up at the stars that peeked through the trees wished he could erase whatever had happened to make her so disenchanted. He wished he could make her understand that their predicament wasn't his fault. He wished he could make her believe that he'd done what was best for her. He wished he could make her see who he really was beneath the Tin. He wished he could make her love him.
Wishing only wounded hearts, and he didn't have one to spare. But that didn't really stop him. How could it? Wishes were the only thing he had left in the world.
When Boq turned his thoughts to reality again he saw Glinda shivering beneath her blankets and admonished himself for getting so lost in dreams that he hadn't noticed sooner. His pack had an extra bedroll and he pulled it apart and added the blankets to hers; hoping it wouldn't get any colder. It seemed to help a little but he added some more wood to the fire before he sat back again. This time he was determined to keep a more watchful eye and not let his mind wander to hopeless fantasies.
He did a rather good job at it. The first light began to glimmer through the trees hours later and Boq had vigilantly kept watch. But he let himself relax too soon. As he turned his attention to fixing the fire and putting together breakfast for Glinda, the horses just yards away began to fidget nervously.
Boq looked up from his work, wondering what could make them prance about so when they'd been calm all night. The reason became horrifyingly clear as something moved through the trees. At first, in the scant light, it was only a shadow. But as it drew near it became more solid, more shaggy, and more massive.
Boq's eyes widened as the bear wandered right into camp, sniffing loudly as it went. He grabbed the revolver though it was doubtful that its bullets would penetrate the bear's thick hide. He was just glad it hadn't noticed him yet. But again he thought too soon.
The horses panicked as the bear approached, tugging at the lines holding them told the tree. The sapling snapped and one horse got free. He bucked and danced about. The bear reared and roared and Boq finally moved.
He dashed at the massive animal firing the gun as he went and swinging the hatchet madly.
"What in the he-" Glinda woke in time to see the bear towering over the Tinman.
She screamed as he fired off more shots, this time hitting it. The bear growled angrily, hurt now. And the Tinman pressed his advantage. The bear seemed to realize it was fighting a losing battle. It dropped on all fours and turned at ran as the Tinman fired off the last of his rounds after it.
As the he gathered his wits Glinda's attention went to the errant horse, which had made it to the creek and gotten its reins caught in a bush. She looked through the trees, trying to find any trace of the huge animal that had retreated into them. When she was certain it was gone she nervously tugged on her boots and dashed after the horse.
"Whoa," she said soothingly to the frightened animal as she approached. She reached out a hand toward him and realized she was shaking. She set her jaw and willed herself to calm down and concentrate on soothing the horse.
He quieted enough to let her come near and she carefully untangled the reins from the bush. He was skittish for a moment, but Glinda coaxed him into taking a handful of grass from her hand and somehow charmed him into calming down. She led him back to where the Tinman was standing, breathing heavily and staring dumbly into the trees where the bear had retreated.
"Let's go," Glinda demanded, hoping her voice wouldn't betray how frightened she'd been. "Now."
The Tinman only nodded in reply. He kicked the fire apart and poured water over the smoldering branches. Glinda rolled up her bedding and stuffed it in a bag and shoved the food tins after it, not caring that they hadn't been washed properly. With any luck they could take care of them in a sink before the day was out.
When she finished the Tinman scooped the bag up and tied it to his horse, having already tied the other two to hers. She looked quickly around their makeshift camp spot to be sure they hadn't left anything before mounting her horse. It was harder without the aid of something to stand on but with a leap and a lot of pulling she managed to climb aboard.
She nudged the horse forward, expecting her companion to follow. When he didn't she turned back to see what the hold up was. It seemed the Tinman was having an even harder time trying to climb up. He tried her jump and pull method, but could neither jump high enough nor pull hard enough with his stiff limbs.
"There's a rock over near the creek," she said impatiently. "Lead your horse over."
The Tinman did as she said but when he reached the rock and found it at the edge of the water he stopped abruptly.
"Oh for Oz sake you're not going to melt," Glinda told him in an exasperated tone. She steered her horse next to the other and took hold of the Tinman's reins. "Here, I'll hold him steady just climb on."
Boq still hesitated; knowing that though he had an extra oilcan in his pack it wouldn't be much help if he were to fall all the way in the water.
A loud, pained roar that wasn't nearly far enough in the distance brought his attention to an entirely different fear.
"Lieutenant," Glinda snapped. "If you are not on that horse in two clock-tiks I'm leaving without you."
Ignoring the water that ran beneath his horse's feet Boq stepped quickly atop the knee-high rock and from there leapt ungracefully to his horse's back. Glinda barely waited for him to catch hold of his reins before she charged off, galloping away from another roar that followed them across the creek and through the trees. Boq looked back to catch a glimpse of the bear lumbering around their abandoned camp and swiftly turned his attention back to following Glinda as fast as his horse would carry him.