Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own it. What are the chances of that changing? Don't own the song either.

Author's Note: So I spent a week or more of struggling to crank out an idea here, a paragraph there, I put in a solid 3-4 hours of writing in last night – or rather, really early this morning – in order to finally get this chapter ready to go, only to find myself doing a scrambling fifteen minute rewrite of the section it took me a week to write – whilst texting Quality Control to really, please not go to bed yet all the while – in order to hopefully make the passing grade before she shut down for the day. It almost annoys me that it did. If my narrators would stop getting ahead of themselves so that I could write the chapter at hand, maybe we wouldn't be having this massive slow down. And I really hope QC didn't pass this just so I'd leave her alone and let her sleep. I do believe it was Queen Isabella that was hoping to see this; I hope I did it justice. In terms of dedication, I'm going to dedicate this to Dragonlady80906 because I like to brighten days in what little way I can. Sorry it took so long, meant to get this chapter out much sooner.

PS You may have difficulty guessing the guard, QC did – in fact, I had to tell her. But then, it is only to be expected, all things considered, I can't make them all easy, what fun would that be?

PPS And, uh, you might want to read a fair bit of this out loud. For, uh, clarity. Eheheheh.

...

Tam Merling sometimes wondered how he'd come to be here.

Scuff.

At barely nineteen, a munchkin hair under six feet (but hopefully still growing)…

Scuff.

…with a slender build (he'd fill out yet, really, just look at his brothers) and the look of a sorrel-headed, wide eyed village boy (as regrettably unchangeable as it was true)…

Scuff.

…he knew he bore a far more striking resemblance to a bald-faced Viewer cub (the exact words of a certain sceptical Gillikin) than to any kind of guard, much less a Royal Guard and a member of one of the Royal Family's personal protection details to boot.

Scuff.

So he hadn't had much to recommend him…

Scuff.

…besides – in his older brothers' words – a certain eye for space and distance, and the good natured ability to take a hit.

Scuff.

The youngest Merling had read the bulletin requesting volunteers for the eldest princess' protection detail carefully before braving the ridicule of his peers and stepping forward.

Scuff.

Experience had been preferred but it had not been required – as was evidenced by a full half of Princess Azkadellia's guard.

Scuff.

Sure the Gillikin and the resistance fighter were obvious enough picks, but a shop keeper, a village boy, and a…well, technically the fifth member of their unit did have some experience, but still…

Scuff.

…Deities, Tam would have loved to have been in the room when Old Gulchy tried to put that one by the Consort.

Scuff.

Of course, others had expressed the same wish regarding the 'rookie's' addition to the lists.

Scuff.

Though Dawkins did assure him, in the kind of voice one tended to reserve for coddling adorable puppies, that there was all kinds of use for the appearance of innocence – a statement that anyone who knew the mischievous mammoth probably didn't doubt in the least.

Scuff.

Tam did wish that he could make suitable reply to their ribbing, alas that there was a good reason why Gillikins were so respected among fighting men, and getting on the bad side of Dawkins just wasn't worth it.

Scuff.

Besides, the Othersider had seemed far more interested in asking bizarre questions about Vindictive Screeching Harpies that might bother the princess than worrying himself over much about related job experience.

Scuff.

What one was actually supposed to do about the dread beasts, the young guard certainly didn't know, but he'd apparently managed to slip a munchkin through the gates in his desperate attempts to find an answer.

Scuff.

Maybe not the most mature suggestion ever given, but having grown up the smallest kid in a tiny village a stone's throw from the Realm of the Unwanted, with a pack a brothers that couldn't decide from one day to the next whether they were going to protect him or 'help' him learn to defend himself, Tam had a solid tin dislike of bullies.

Scuff.

And he figured, since the eldest princess had supposedly spent fifteen years under the dark of the biggest bully the O.Z. had ever seen, she might enjoy getting a little of her own back.

Scuff.

Seemed to satisfy his new guard commander at any rate…

Scuff.

…not to mention amuse him, in an oddly alarmed sort of way…

Scuff.

…and as if Tam would ever have the nerve to try and give DG – as in Crown Princess DG, Hero of the Eclipse, Saviour of the Realm – ideas.

Scuff.

No matter what Old Gulchy said about not having liked boredom all that much on closer acquaintance anyhow.

Scuff.

Which was how Tam found himself being dragged across the Central City Palace courtyard a witch's handful of weeks later whilst trying to convince Dawkins that, yes, Old Gulchy really had meant for the protection detail to stay behind while he and the Tin Man went to scour the city for the missing princesses. The resistance fighter apparently having (conveniently) decided that the youngest guard must have been mistaken in his instructions and surely all eyes (or his at least) would be required in locating the drunken, er, Royal truants.

Scuff.

Tam wondered if their guard commander had ever noted, when giving his commands, that Dawkins outweighed his young comrade by a good hundred pounds of muscle. It was a pertinent question, given that it meant that when Dawkins decided he was going to keep on walking, he had no trouble doing so, despite the young Merling currently wrapped around his ankles.

"Really Dawkins," scuff, "Old Gulchy said," scuff, "we were to stay put," scuff, "while he and Cain chased down," scuff, "the Hell spawn," scuff, "and her older sister," scuff, "something about keeping," scuff, "the body count down," scuff, "Dawkins!"

"Nonsense," the big galoot scoffed loftily, "as the eldest princess' noble guard, it is our bounded duty to place ourselves in harm's way irregardless of the occasion, whether it be an assassination attempt or drunken carouse. Most especially if it is a drunken carouse. You been gaining weight?" he added cheerfully.

Deities I hope so, Tam thought desperately, even as he groaned in despair…and a little road rash – who'd tracked those pebbles in? – whenever Dawkins spoke like that it meant he was darkness-bent on some sort of mischief and giving subtle notice that he wasn't to be dissuaded. Scuff.

"Dawkins, please…" he pled, scuff, wishing ruefully that his supposed innocent look came equipped with the kind of blue-eyed gaze that made the Crown Princess so indomitable. Alas that his eyes were more of an amber hue – of course, her being female probably helped with the whole gaze at mankind and turn them into mush thing. Scuff. He really shouldn't have to beg his fellow guards to follow their superior's commands…

"Shh!" the colossal pain interrupted suddenly.

"Hurk!" Tam opined as he was abruptly seized by the scruff of the neck and hauled into the shadows. "What…?"

"Shh!" Dawkins commanded again, his hazel eyes bright with the kind of glee that made most people (Tam included) nervous.

"An' I'ma tellin' you," announced another voice entirely as the former resistance fighter forced his comrade into silence, "I'ma tellin' yooo tha' there'sh ta be no touchin' of da butt! Illegabu…illegagable…illegible…no' 'egal manoofer. Han'soff. Iff'n ya wanna grabba butt, yoosh can grab Gulsch. He'sh all tied up at da mo'ent, canna 'scape. Mined," the Crown Princess slurred cheerfully as the Tin Man came into view, hauling two extremely inebriated princesses over his shoulders, "'e'll freak ou' iff'n ya do, bu' it outta be 'ilarious ta watch."

"Yes," Dawkins breathed rapturously whilst Tam hoped he might remember certain people would need to breathe soon, "Please do."

"I dun wanna freak ou' Gulsch," the elder princess replied much her guard's disappointment, "I wanna ans'er ta my queshion an' Cain won' ans'er lesson I glares at 'im anna canna glare at'im lesson I look'im in da facesh, an'is butt ish da only firm 'and'old for da porpose."

"It ish firm," Princess DG agreed fairly, "da pantsh clear'y sho' dat. Yoo kno'what dey dunnot sho' doe?"

"Whu?"

"Unnerwear lines," the Hero of the Eclipse informed them, "Now iff'n Gulsch weresh wearin' des pantsh, yud kno' 'xactly wher'is boxshers ish…"

"Boxshers?"

"Kinda unnerwear."

"How do you know what kind of underwear Gulch wears?" Cain and Princess Azkadellia demanded as one – at least so Tam assumed the eldest princess meant, Dawkins was currently shaking him so hard with suppressed laughter it was getting hard to apply the necessary concentration to the conversation. The Tin Man, however, had certainly said it, and in the kind of tone that generally made brave men run for their lives.

"Ish wha'e's worn effa since I accshident'ly fed 'is pantsh t'a grain auger," the Crown Princess replied with complete unconcern, "tinks ish less embarashin' ta run 'rounda coun'ryshide in boxshers den tigh'ee whi'ees…do yoosh wear tigh'ee whi'ees Cain?" she demanded with sudden avid interest.

Tam was finally allowed to breathe as Dawkins dropped him in favour of grabbing a pillar to hold himself up. The Tin Man's face, once he'd fully understood the question posed, was the kind you wanted to frame and put on the wall for your eternal amusement – if you could manage it without getting shot.

"'e's no' ans'erin' our queshions tanigh'," the eldest princess complained.

"Weesh can a'ways findout for 'selves," Princess DG pointed out determinedly.

"Indee'."

No, Tam corrected himself as the Tin Man yelp-er-protested and spun about frantically trying to escape the princesses' exploration, this was the expression one wanted to preserve for all posterity, if one wanted to die, that is. Eyes almost as fiery as his face, Cain managed to cow the palace guards into opening the doors and pledging eternal silence on the matter without ever having uttered a word.

"Da pantsh are verwee tight," Princess Azkadellia commented as the trio disappeared into the palace.

"Y-you are on guard d-duty tonight, right?" Dawkins demanded, struggling to steady his voice.

"Yes."

"Excellent!" the big guard crowed, immediately steering his smaller peer in the direction of the palace entrance.

Tam didn't think it was excellent. Old Gulchy seemed to have a reasonable understanding of the fact that the youngest princess tended to do whatever the youngest princess decided to do, but the Tin Man went all starving Papay on any guard that let her out of their sight for the briefest of instances. Of course, that was probably because she managed to be long gone before anyone had a chance to miss her when they did. And it was his bad luck that she'd taken her sister with her this time – how the witch had they gotten out of that room unnoticed? – and if ever the Tin Man was looking for an excuse to shoot someone…

…but he was on duty tonight, and his charge had gone that way, so manfully, Tam Merling followed.

By the time the guards had caught up to the revellers, the Crown Princess was teaching her sister the lyrics to a song that doubtless accounted for Cain's impressive increase in speed despite his current burdens.

"Cain'shnot wearin' unnerwear taday, 'e's no' wearin' unnerwear taday, not tha' we really care musch abou' 'e's unnerwear – 'cause iff'n 'e's not wearin' it whose ta care wher'it'is…"

The Tin Man almost shattered the doorframe forcing his way into the eldest princess' room.

"Here," Cain growled, "give me a hand with her," and, with the guards' help, eased Princess Azkadellia off his shoulder and into her bed. Tam awkwardly set about removing her shoes and pulling the blankets over her while the Tin Man shifted the youngest princess into a more comfortable – for her – position in his arms. It was amazing that he still had the strength left not to drop her.

"Yoosh forgo'ta shnap my corshet shtrings," the eldest princess informed them sleepily.

The young guard looked at her in surprise; he'd thought she was already out like an eclipse.

"Gulsch always cutsh my corshet shtrings," she added, causing everyone in the room to freeze in shock.

Everyone except the Crown Princess, that is, who giggled and murmured dreamily, "'e woul'," before nestling her head up against the Tin Man's shoulder, effectively deteriorating his concentration in the situation at hand.

"Not comferbly ta shleep wif the shtrings tied tigh'," Princess Azkadellia continued much to Tam's relief – it was a much less lethal picture forming now than the one he'd had a few moments ago, he liked Old Gulchy, for all his strange ways, and would prefer if the Consort didn't have him executed, "Some'un's gotta shnap da strings. Getting' rid o' da corshet woul' be betta."

Relief over, the young Merling thought with a helpless glance at the Tin Man – undressing the princess was decidedly not in the job description. Dawkins, he noted sourly, had somehow transported himself out of the hazard zone and was looking decidedly smug about it.

"Just call one of her maids up," Cain suggested mercifully, "I'll go tuck DG in."

"Aw," Dawkins cooed innocently, "how fatherly of you."

The Tin Man pin wheeled off of the doorframe as his head whipped around to glare at the guard. Unfortunately for the effect he wished to instil, the Crown Princess chose that moment to rouse herself from her near slumber to declare, "I dun nee'da maid, Cain can undresh me ta bed jusht fine."

It's apparently hard even for the Tin Man to maintain a death glare when he was also trying hard not to blush.

"Don't forget to kiss her goodnight!" the suicidal guard called after them merrily.

Tam didn't see what the Tin Man ran into this time, but from the resultant crash he was willing to bet the only reason Cain's revolver remained in the holster was because hands were currently full of princess.

"Great Gale," Dawkins announced, "I love my life," then, his eyes glinting mischief, he added, "Don't you have a princess to be undressing?"

Glaring for all he was worth – and not getting anywhere with it – Tam Merling damn near broke the cord ringing the bell.