Disclaimer: Sudden changes in ownership can be dashed awkward, so I'll just borrow instead…all the characters from Tin Man and one little line from The Mask of Zorro.

Author's Note: I hereby dedicate this chapter to my dearly departed spatula, which suffered a fatal snapping in half (at the actual spatula and not the handle, which is so weird) whilst I was attempting apple cinnamon scones. Alas poor spatula, it was my favourite one, too. 'Twas flexible and good at getting into corners. Sigh. On another note: songs reinterpreted through the use of violins equals epic. Darn I wish I knew how to play the violin.

PS Bet you weren't expecting this narrator. Meh, he's growing on me. Plus: love to torture.

...

Jeb Cain was absolutely not a member of Princess Azkadellia's guard. Not so many months ago the former resistance fighter would have beaten a man senseless for even suggesting any such thing. Or at least tried to do so - sometimes certain Othersiders had other ideas. But that had been before he'd learned better, back in the days when the eldest princess' name had been a curse on his lips, back when he'd still blamed her for the destruction of his family. For giving Zero the power to destroy his family. Evil like that you don't forget…or forgive.

At least not without someone coming along and cracking your skull open to allow the absorption of new ideas.

Which is to say, Princess Azkadellia didn't need him for her Guard: it was plenty well stocked with ravenous Papay waiting for someone to say the word 'drought'. Though he supposed that as a member of the Royal Army one could say, at a stretch, that he was everyone's guard. As the army guarded over the O.Z. he became, as it were, a Guardian of the Realm. He…could live with that.

It was what he used to call his father. Before the darkness fell, when young Jeb had wanted nothing more than to be a tin man, just like his father. Before his father had died – or so they had thought – leaving a very young Jeb to wonder how he'd ever fill those slippers his old man had left behind.

He'd spent annuals trying, only to find out one day that they'd gotten bigger.

Because after nearly a decade locked in a tin suit, the Tin Man had emerged not only sane, but so thoroughly ticked off. And he'd done more to bring down the Sorceress in a week than the entire Resistance Army had throughout the whole course of the war. And he'd stolen Princess DG's heart while he was at it, setting up the groundwork for him becoming the next Consort without even really meaning to.

Which just made his grown son feel inadequate on so many levels. Not to mention awkward.

What was one supposed to do when the Crown Princess was now your stepmother? Especially when that particular little house drop was comparatively easy to absorb when one considered the fact that his erstwhile sworn enemy was now, technically, his aunt. Not exactly an outcome he'd anticipated while sitting around the campfire to plan the raid on the Sorceress' Tower. And what, pray tell, did that make Jeb? He didn't think it made him a member of the Royal Family, not really. His parents were commoners after all, which left him at a complete loss as to how to address Royalty that was suddenly insisting on a first name basis. They'd even invited him to dinner a few times – and let it be known: abruptly realizing over a tureen of gravy that the Queen of the O.Z. is now, sort of, your grandmother does horrible things to your appetite.

And he'd thought that guard Ottokar's family was complicated…

Welcome to post Eclipse O.Z., where every day was a freaking munchkin parade, you never knew what insanity would come next.

But if there was one thing he was sure of it was that he was not Princess Azkadellia's guard – he was too busy playing guard to her guard. Well sort of. If one counted being Officer Gulch's impromptu drinking buddy and fencing master as such. Jeb did – anyone off to see the wizard enough to come to him for lessons was beyond desperate. The former resistance fighter's own instructions in the art of swordplay had consisted of being handed a sword and told 'the pointy end goes in the other man.'

Then again, beyond desperate was a pretty accurate description of the Othersider of late.

There'd been precisely two things on Officer Gulch's mind that night at the bar: that proposal wielding women were the scariest threat known to man, and that someday soon someone was going harvest his prairie oysters. It seemed to be a lifelong fear of the guard commander's, actually, one that, having heard the three most common methods of, er, oyster extraction, the army lieutenant now found he shared in full. The eldest princess' guard had had more than enough reason in the past to be upset with the soldier, after all, and they all knew what he was like when he was angry…

Of course, the Othersider would need to have survived this morning's duel first. Which, in all likelihood, depended entirely on his opponent. Lord Fastidium, as a noble, would have been trained in the use of a sword from a young age; Gulch had met a real blade for the first time three days ago. Common sense dictated that the aristocrat should win handily…except, as Jeb had discovered for himself, that Officer Gulch didn't really bother much with common sense, so why should his fights?

The army lieutenant wished he hadn't been on duty this sunrise – Dawkins was currently selling tickets to a Viewer screening this evening, but that just wasn't the same as seeing it live. At least, he figured as he turned the corner towards the stairs, he could find out-

Oh.

Well, he'd survived at least. Blinking at the sight before him, Jeb wondered why it was never he that got the girl. Then again, it looked kind of painful.

"Would you like me to fetch Raw?" Lieutenant Cain queried awkwardly, causing Princess Azkadellia to jump in surprise. He'd have to apologize to Gulch for that later.

Wincing, the guard commander commented, "That would be nice."

Stepping gingerly around where the Othersider lay at the bottom of the stairs, the lieutenant assured him, "Be right back."

"Take your time," Officer Gulch murmured serenely, obviously preoccupied with other, er, matters (which Jeb had to admit looked exceedingly distracting), "bleeding's mostly stopped anyhow, direct pressure and all that."

Fleeing up the stairs, the Royal Army Lieutenant wondered when exactly it had been mentioned in that First Aid class that having a princess lie on top of you was considered a valid tech…nique…you know, he wasn't following that yellow brick road of thought anywhere. He knew better now. Especially considering who was apparently looking to become his new uncle.

Greaaaaaat.