Marching on Antietam, Chapter Eight
An earlier update for y'all today, because it's Monday, and you need a little angst with your morning coffee. And if you're really, really good, perhaps you'll get Chapter Nine later on.
All right, children, gather 'round, for Auntie Effie has some warnings for you regarding this chapter:
One: Red Sox shoutout. (What? They got SWEPT by the RAYS this weekend. That's a MAJOR warning of impending apocalypse--like, I mean, get The Doctor in here, stat--in EffieLand.)
Two: Angst. Like it's going out of style, baby.
Three: I hate to say it, but there's a character death. ::ducks into the TARDIS::
Yeah, there's a Doctor Who marathon going on on SciFi right now. I'm watching because I'm avoiding my honey-do list and I've only seen eps with Barty Crouch, Junior David Tennant (10th Doctor). Christopher Eccleston (9th Doctor) is FUNNY. I still don't like Rose. And, OMG, Gwen and Tosh from Torchwood! Before they were Gwen and Tosh on Torchwood! And Naked!John Barrowman. Suh-WEET.
Getting to the angst fic now. Promise.
Disclaimer in Chapter One.
Chapter Eight: Come Undone
The ground was harder than she’d anticipated, and pain shot up and through her spine as her knees impacted the dirt. A pair of hands wrenched her into a standing position by the collar on her shirt, and for a fleeting moment, she thought he might pick her up completely and throw her into the water below. Instead, she was shoved forward and immediately surrounded on all sides.
They marched in effortless formation away from the Royal Guard. They delved deeper into the woods, and the foliage became so dense that the afternoon sunlight darkened from brilliant yellow to almost completely pale white. She did not see Jeb, and dared not make a sound by calling out to him.
A few tents were set up in a hastily cleared area, and DG was pushed roughly inside the one closest to their path. It looked like the resistance tents she’d rested in the night after the Eclipse-army green and thick enough for privacy, but thin enough to be heard through and controlled clearly.
A female opposition fighter accompanied her into the tent, and motioned to a cot set in the corner. “Have a seat,” she ordered, but her voice was not as hardened as her male counterparts.
DG sat, her sore body thankful for the relief. “Thank you.”
The woman seemed briefly surprised at the comment, but said nothing as the two men from the clearing entered the tent.
“You can go now, Meg,” Garrett said, and the woman nodded, sparing one last glance at the princess.
The second man dragged two chairs behind him, and set them up in front of the cot. Garrett sat, openly appraising DG. His scrutiny was not uncomfortable, however; he seemed genuinely curious, like a child examining a new toy for the first time. He turned to his counterpart for a moment and whispered something behind his hand. Then he turned back to DG and said mockingly, “So you’re the princess of light.”
DG straightened as best she could on the rickety cot, feeling the steel bars pressing into the backs of her thighs. “I’m DG. What other people call me isn’t my concern.”
Garrett leaned closer, and she could feel his breath on her chin. She refused to flinch, fisting her hands around the canvas of her seat. “What is your concern, Princess?”
DG had to suppress a shiver as she searched his dead eyes. “I want to rebuild the O.Z. Just like you.”
His lips barely moved from a snarl. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Because we took something most valuable to you,” Garrett replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, as though they were casually discussing the strength of the Red Sox bullpen. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“That’s not true,” DG protested, but Garrett cut her off.
“Don’t waste your time lying, Princess,” the resistance leader said coldly. “I don’t appreciate playing games.”
Taking a deep breath, DG squared her shoulders. “I’m not playing games with you, sir. This land is as much your home as it is mine. I want to help in any way I can.”
“Tell me one thing.”
“I’ll try.”
“Why did your mother ignore our request for a meeting? All of this could have been avoided.”
Somehow I doubt that, the princess thought to herself before replying. “She’s trying to adjust back to her life along with the rest of us. Her family took precedence for a little while. I’d think you could understand that.”
“You mean the needs of a few outweighed the needs of many.”
DG clenched her fists. “There are many problems that need fixing. My mother had to prioritize.”
“And she chose the Sorceress over her kingdom.”
“Azkadellia is not the Sorceress.” Her tone was gritty.
“My spies would contradict that assessment, young lady.”
“Are you interested in hearing the full story, or just believing what you think to be true, so it’s easier to justify the things you’ve done?”
Garrett’s eyes flashed in warning. “We’ve done the things necessary to survive. You couldn’t begin to understand that.”
“I’d understand that more than you could ever fathom,” DG replied, crossing her arms. “I trekked through this godforsaken land not remembering a damn thing, just trying to survive. I know what you have had to sacrifice.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Look,” DG sighed, watching a small beam of fading sunlight as it cut through the faded canvas, “we’re just going in circles here. Let’s move on and figure out where to go from here.”
Garrett scoffed. “Not interested in hearing our tales of woe, Princess?”
“There’s no use dwelling in the past. The only thing we have in common is our desire to make the future better.”
“We want your mother off the throne.”
DG’s blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”
“She stood by and let your sister lead a violent coup that destroyed our homes. She’s useless.”
“She didn’t have a choice!” DG protested.
“There’s always a choice, young lady. It may not be a decision we wish to make, but there are always options.”
DG swallowed her angry fear. “I can’t make that kind of promise, sir.”
“You won’t,” Garrett corrected.
DG shook her head. “I came here to hear your demands, and let you know that our goals are the same. I didn’t come here to negotiate things I have no business handling.”
“Then your trip was wasted,” the leader said, rising from his chair. “Meg?”
The woman entered the tent again and looked at Garrett. When he had the woman’s attention, he spoke again. “Shackle her, please.”
“That’s not necessary-“ DG protested, and writhed beneath the frosty metal cuff. The chain clicked around a stake in the ground, and she automatically pulled against it, tugging as hard as she could. The metal merely clanged a sad apology, and she sat back on the cot, rubbing her forehead with her free hand.
Garrett and Meg left, and after a moment, the tent opening rustled again. Jeb Cain was thrust inside and shackled within the blink of an eye. DG could tell he’d been there before from the raw, red broken skin encircling his wrists. They sat in silence until Garrett left, and Jeb leaned forward. “Are you all right, Princess?”
DG nodded. “So far. You?”
“I could use a hot meal and a bath,” he replied, trying to be nonchalant, and she could see his father in his effort to calm her nerves. He had a few new lacerations marring his forehead, and the red cuts stood out against his pale skin and fading bruises, but as he spoke again, she could see by the way he held himself that he’d been through worse and was trying to reassure her. “Is Doc okay?”
DG nodded again. “She was when I left. She’s keeping an eye on Az.”
Jeb breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.”
DG leaned toward him. “What have you noticed about these people?”
Jeb lowered his voice. “Everything’s well planned; very little room for error or maneuvering. They also want your sister’s head on a platter. I think they believe you’ll trade me for her.”
DG’s stomach sank. “I can’t…I can’t make that kind of choice.”
Jeb shook his head. “We won’t let it come to that,” he promised. “If you can keep them talking, give in to some of their demands, I think they’ll let us go. At the very least, Father knows where we are. I’d bet anything he’s mounting a counterattack as we speak.”
“We don’t have much manpower,” DG said quietly, looking down at her hands. “These idiots outnumber us at least four-to-one.”
“Then I hope you’re a better diplomat than you are an optimist.”
The tent flap was thrown open again, and Jeb and DG sat back, both steeling themselves for Garrett’s wrath and return. His second-in-command stood behind him, and both men looked as though they were made of steel as they entered the tiny space.
Garrett pulled his chair close to DG, enough that their legs touched. It took much of her willpower not to shudder at the contact. “Now, then, Princess,” he began, “we have a few things to discuss.”
“I talk better when I’m not tied up like some cow.”
“We’ll see about that,” the leader replied, leaning ever closer, and DG’s eyes flickered to his hands as they clenched in and out of fists. He was fighting to keep his tone even and under control. “You said you could explain why the Sorceress is still alive, and why your family continues to live in her Black Tower.”
DG cleared her throat. “When we were young, Azkadellia and I were exploring the woods. The Old Witch of the Dark lived in those woods, and possessed Azkadellia. The Witch used my sister’s strength and magic to destroy the O.Z. Once she was defeated, it took a toll on my sister’s health. We cannot move her, no matter how much we want to leave that awful place.”
Garrett studied her for a long moment. “The Witch of the Dark is legend, child.”
DG shook her head. “No. I saw her. When I was a child, and when I killed her on the night of the Eclipse.”
The leader tapped his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. “Say I believe you. Why did your mother not banish your sister, or exorcise the Witch from her?”
“She couldn’t.” DG looked at her hands.
“How is that?”
“She wasn’t strong enough.” The brunette swallowed around the guilt in her throat.
At this, Garrett tugged angrily on her chains, curling them around calloused, broken knuckles, and causing her to bend roughly at the waist, her head hitting his knees. “I warned you about lying.”
“I’m not!” DG protested, raising her head, blinking away the stars that clouded her vision. “She didn’t have enough magic to banish the Witch from my sister.”
The second-in-command leaned in. “She was the most powerful being in the O.Z.! Of course she could have exorcised her.”
“You don’t know what she could or could not have done.” DG was quickly losing her patience. “But it doesn’t matter now.”
“Our history matters greatly, young lady,” Garrett replied, releasing her shackles. “You’d do well to remember that.”
The princess sighed. “I’m not here to argue semantics with you. We just need to move forward, and to do that, we need to work together. Tell me what you want.”
“You need to understand the hell your family put this kingdom through,” the second-in-command told her.
“We’ve been through the exact same hell,” DG told them tiredly. “I know how it feels to have your world turned upside down.”
“I highly doubt that, Princess,” Garrett replied.
With her free hand, DG pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, you asked me to come out here and hear you out. Now that I’m here, you’re doing nothing but poking at me like a piñata. What’s the point of that?”
“Princess,” Jeb warned lowly, watching as Garrett’s eyes narrowed.
“Why didn’t your mother come?” Garrett queried darkly.
“She’s looking after my sister,” the brunette repeated.
“So she has enough magic to help save your sister and not her homeland?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It always is with you people.” Garrett reached into his back pocket and pulled out a dirty rag that sent DG’s chest pounding. A black knife handle protruded from the end, and she glanced anxiously at Jeb before Garrett moved again. The leader pulled the sheathed knife from the rag and used the bandana’s fabric to wipe at his brow. The princess couldn’t hold in her relieved exhale.
The resistance leader looked down interestedly at her. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he said with a hellish half-smirk, “I’m not going to hurt you. Yet.”
“Look,” DG began, her mind quickly going blank at the threat, the research she’d done over the previous days seeping into the night sky and becoming useless, “send me back with a list of your requests. I’ll talk them over with my mother, and then we can come to some sort of compromise.”
“You’re not going anywhere any time soon.” Garrett rose to leave and the second-in-command followed him. She looked at Jeb worriedly, the sinking feeling that she was in way over her head chilling her as the night wind did not. “They’re not going to let us go, are they?”
Jeb shook his head slowly. “We just have to hang on until Father gets here. Just keep ‘em talking.”
The tent opened again, and a young woman walked in, Garrett right behind her. He ushered her gently to the seat he had been occupying just moments before, and patted her on the shoulder. “Go ahead, Rowena.”
The woman, only a few years older than DG, cleared her throat and began to speak. “The Witch executed my parents,” she said, no affect in her voice. “I was ten annuals old. My mother was pregnant when they shot her in the head.”
DG sucked in a breath. “I’m…I’m so-“
Rowena held up a hand. “I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. But you need to know who you’re defending, who you’re making excuses for.” Saying nothing further, she rose from the chair and left the tent.
An older, grey-haired man replaced her, telling them how his farm was burned because he refused to house Longcoats for the night. He was followed by two orphaned children, a boy and a girl, who had hidden beneath the floorboards when their parents were taken from their home and eventually hanged in Central City.
The line of victims continued for close to three hours. At its merciful end, DG could no longer breathe. She had doubled over at the waist halfway through the litany of horror stories, and was trying in vain to stop her desperate, wracking sobs. Jeb used his free hand to rub her back awkwardly.
Garrett reentered the tent and looked at her interestingly. “Do you understand now, Princess?”
DG could not find the words, so she merely nodded.
Garrett nodded. “All these things happened because of your family.” He leaned over and began to unshackle her. “You will go back to the tower and tell your mother to abdicate the throne.”
Her response was stuttered. “I…I can’t do that.”
“Your family is the cause of all this destruction.” He tilted his head and watched her curiously, stopping his key in the lock. “You didn’t really think we’d allow the people that ruined our lives to remain in power, did you?”
DG swallowed guiltily. In truth, she hadn’t considered it. “Who would you propose rule if not my family?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Garrett said softly. “You won’t be around to see it.”
Cold panic ran swiftly through the brunette. “What?” she repeated dumbly.
“You admitted it earlier; you were there when the Witch of the Dark possessed your sister. You didn’t stop this so-called possession. You’re just as guilty as the rest of your family. You’ll be punished accordingly.”
“That’s not going to solve anything,” Jeb interjected, fighting his shackles. “Send her back with a list of demands. The palace will listen to you. They already have, just by sending her here.”
Garrett turned to him. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking she gives a damn about anybody other than herself, especially not us commoners.”
DG shook her head. “I want to fix this. Tell me how I can fix this. Please.” She put a hand on the older man’s arm, which he shrugged off immediately.
“Don’t pretend to be so familiar with your subjects, Princess,” he warned. “You still have a lot to learn.”
“I know that,” she agreed, watching him as he returned to fiddling with her chains. “I’m doing the best I can. We all are. We want the same things; to help the O.Z.”
Garrett scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Think, think, she ordered herself. “I have helped the O.Z.,” she finally said. “I replenished the Fields of the Papay. I helped defeat the Witch. Jeb was there; he saw it.”
“I did,” the younger Cain confirmed quickly.
Garrett and his second exchanged a look. Latching on hopefully, the brunette continued, “Have there been any attacks on anyone since the Eclipse, by the Papay or Longcoats?”
At their silence, DG braved a smile. “My magic-my family’s magic-that’s what did it. We’ve saved lives.”
“By feeding brutal animals? By allegedly banishing a legend? That hardly counts, Princess.” Garrett shook his head. “It’s minimal in the face of all you’ve done to ruin the O.Z.”
Keep them talking, she reminded herself. Every second counts. “Look, I will be more than happy to take your demands to my mother. Just let Jeb and me go.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” the second-in-command said. “We need you to come back.”
“I’ll come back,” the princess promised immediately. “You have my word.”
“Like we had your mother’s promises? A lot of good they did us.” Garrett shook his head. “We need an insurance policy. He stays here.”
DG shook her head. “You say you want to compromise, and yet you refuse to meet me halfway.”
“You need to learn how to listen, Princess.” Garrett leaned down again, and this time, she did flinch and sit backwards as he invaded her personal space. “You’re not in charge here.”
“I’m not leaving without him.” Her voice was staunch in its stubbornness.
“You’re leaving when I say you leave.” Garrett’s voice was equally commanding.
“No.”
The older man pulled his gun from its holster within half the blink of an eye and pressed it back against her head. “Go back to the palace, and deliver your family to us.”
She refused to let her tears out. “Go to hell.”
“DG.” Jeb’s voice was lower as he warned her again.
She ignored him. Looking up at Garrett, she said, “You’re just going to kill me anyway. Might as well get it over with.”
He turned off the safety and cocked the hammer. His second leapt to his feet. “Garrett, this isn’t the plan. She has to go back!”
“My men will come for you anyway,” DG said, staring up at the older man and setting her jaw. “I’ll bet you anything they’re just waiting to attack. You’re finished.” Looking back up at the resistance leader, she saw his hand begin to waver. Yeah, that’s it. Come on, drop it, she begged silently.
Her stomach dropped when his hand stopped shaking. “You’re in no position to make demands or compromises.”
She pulled against the chains. “God damn it!” she yelled, frustration seeping from every pore. “What do you want from me?”
Garrett’s eyes turned to something she’d never seen before, and wished never to see again. He turned the gun away from her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Her relief was short-lived.
Before she could form tears or even a shout of protest, Garrett fired a large caliber round into Jeb’s chest.
The young blond man looked stunned for a moment before he pitched forward onto the ground, his shackles pulling the cot halfway on top of him. DG could not see his face, as she was focused on the profuse amount of blood seeping among the dirt and the grass.
Garrett looked at her coolly. “I want you to understand how much it hurts when someone betrays your trust, just like your family betrayed ours.” He looked over briefly at the toppled cot covering Jeb, then looked quickly back at her. “You didn’t have any intention of coming here to listen. You just wanted what you wanted; to rescue your friends.” Leaning down, his hot breath ruffled her bangs. “No one was there to rescue us from you. Maybe now you can see it from our side.”
The second man disarmed him and pulled his comrade roughly from the tent. DG threw herself on the ground, still attached to her own cot. She tried desperately to maneuver Jeb’s cot off him, and was eventually able to turn him, and the bed, on their sides.
She turned him to rest on his back in the dirt, and DG could hear the bubbling of the blood in his chest wound. Hot, terrified, angry tears splashed from her eyes onto his face, which became more and more pale with each labored breath. She half-dragged him onto her lap and rocked him as her mother had rocked her when she’d come home with one sports-related injury or another. “No, no, no,” she pleaded in a strangled cry, pressing her hands to try and stop the blood flow. “Jeb, don’t do this to me. Please, Jeb!”
He blinked unseeingly at her, and she felt him start to go slack in her arms. She moved her top hand and tapped at his face, trying in vain to keep him conscious. “Hang on, Jeb. Dear God, please hang on. Your dad’ll be here soon. I know he will. Please, Jeb, hang on.”
He whispered something, rustling her bangs, and she leaned down to better hear him. At first, she shook her head at his request. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Liar,” he mouthed, eyes slipping shut. “Just tell Doc.”
“I promise,” she finally said, breaking into uncontrollable, wracking sobs as the blood flow and his breathing stopped.
A shadow crossed into their tent, but she did not look up. “Murderer!” she screeched, an unearthly sound. “How could you?! You bastards!”
A soft hand landed on her shoulder, and she shrugged it away. It was insistent, however, and DG looked up, wishing she had better control of her magic so as to retaliate.
She saw Meg, the woman who had first brought her to the makeshift brig, kneeling next to her. Silently, the other woman inserted a key into the shackles binding both the princess and the former resistance leader’s body. “There is a horse at the edge of the clearing,” she said softly, checking over her shoulder. “I will stay with him until you come back with reinforcements.”
“I don’t trust you,” DG spat venomously. “You killed an innocent man.”
“So did you,” Meg replied, “in my husband, and in the hundreds of husbands, fathers and sons of the past annuals. But that’s done now. You need to go, Princess. Stay parallel to the crack in the O.Z. and you should come across your guardsmen soon. Our spies indicated they were close.”
DG searched the woman’s face for any sign of deception. “Why are you helping me?”
Meg sighed. “Because this has to end, and not in the way Garrett is planning.” She pulled DG up by her elbow. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll stay with him.” She pulled Jeb’s body off DG and righted the cot. The two women lifted him onto the canvas, and Meg unfolded a blanket, covering him gently with it. She pulled Garrett’s chair from its spot and, once DG passed, sat guarding the tent.
The princess ran at twice her normal speed until she found the horse Meg had promised her would be there, munching on some grass. She mounted the steed quickly and raced out of the camp, praying the thundering hooves wouldn’t give her away.
She was halfway back to Central City when she heard someone call out. “Stop in the name of the Queen!”
She pulled the horse up short and saw the colors of the Royal Guard flanked in front of her. “It’s me!” she cried out.
The company front parted, and she saw Cain on horseback, trotting toward her. He stopped with wide eyes, scanning down her front. She looked down, horror stricken.
She was covered in Jeb’s blood.
Cain dismounted and ran to her, pulling her from the horse. “Are you all right?” he demanded, looking her over quickly.
She could not reply, for there were no words or thoughts to be formed. Cain gripped her tightly by the upper arms and bent his knees, trying to catch her gaze. She was steadfast in avoiding him, however, and wrenched her eyes shut, though some tears slipped through and mixed with the blood on her shirt.
“DG?” Cain shook her. “DG, talk to me.”
The princess heard another set of footsteps approach them quickly, and she turned her head, catching sight of the medic striding toward her, bag in hand.
“Where are you hurt?” the blonde demanded, removing one of Cain’s hands to take the princess’s pulse.
“I’m...not,” DG replied weakly.
The world seemed to stop in that moment. All sound ceased, and for once, the brunette knew the meaning of deathly silence. Ainsley dropped her hand, her alto voice tentatively wary and disbelieving. “DG, where’s Jeb?”
An anguished cry escaped the youngest princess, and she would have fallen to the ground completely had Cain not been there to catch her. She saw the medic begin to shake so badly that she dropped her supply bag. DG finally looked between Cain and the doctor. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, wrapping her blood soaked arms around her middle and rocking back and forth, just as she had in the tent. “They…they just…”
“No.” Cain pushed himself away from her, standing on unsteady feet, and she was forced to look up at him, begging forgiveness. “They wouldn’t.”
“They did.” DG’s reply was little more than a whisper, and her face crumbled as Cain walked away from her. “They just…”
“Don’t say it.” Ainsley’s tone was deadly. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“He said to tell you he loved you. Both of you.”
In a flash, DG was on her feet again, with Ainsley’s fist bunching the collar of her shirt and nearly lifting the brunette off the ground. “Don’t. Say. It.”
One of the Royal Guards came up swiftly behind the medic and wrapped two strong arms around her waist, wrenching the blonde away from the princess. The medic flailed and bucked against him, kicking him roughly in the shins. To DG, she cried, “Why didn’t you save him? You could have saved him!”
DG shook her head, beginning to feel drained from the amount of tears she’d cried over the past half day. “I tried to stop them. But there was nothing I could do. I’m so sorry.”
Cain refused to look at her. Ainsley finally wrestled herself away from her captors and charged the princess, red-faced. “You selfish little…” DG saw her fist clench and braced herself for the stinging impact. When it did not come, the princess opened her eyes and saw the medic’s shaking hand hovering near her cheek. “You used your magic to make your sister stronger! Your mother used her magic to save you! You could have done something!”
DG could only make out the woman’s blurry form through her tears.
“I guess we don’t merit that much consideration, do we? I guess you couldn’t be bothered.” The blonde turned to the convened guard, wild in her anguish. “All hail Princess Dorothy Gale, no better than her witch of a sister.”
DG’s voice was weak. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you’re sorry. Well, that makes it all better now, doesn’t it?” The medic was shaking so badly that DG thought the ground must be moving beneath her.
Cain walked up behind the blonde and put a hand on her shoulder. When he did, the anger leapt from the blonde into the midnight sky, and she broke into silent sobs, turning and shielding herself against the Tin Man’s chest. His strong arms enveloped her, and he murmured useless placations against the crown of her head. They fell to the ground together, anguished tears drowning out the rush of the waterfalls nearby.
The Royal Guardsman who had pulled Ainsley away walked silently around the grieving parties and addressed the princess. “We’re waiting on your orders, Your Highness. What should we do?”
DG could only think of one thing as she looked down at Cain, who glanced at, and then quickly away, from her. Fix this. “We head back to the tower. I will issue a proclamation of war upon our return. Then they’ll come to us. And we’ll be ready.”
End Chapter Eight
So, do you guys completely hate me now? Probably. Uhoh.
All right, children, gather 'round, for Auntie Effie has some warnings for you regarding this chapter:
One: Red Sox shoutout. (What? They got SWEPT by the RAYS this weekend. That's a MAJOR warning of impending apocalypse--like, I mean, get The Doctor in here, stat--in EffieLand.)
Two: Angst. Like it's going out of style, baby.
Three: I hate to say it, but there's a character death. ::ducks into the TARDIS::
Yeah, there's a Doctor Who marathon going on on SciFi right now. I'm watching because I'm avoiding my honey-do list and I've only seen eps with Barty Crouch, Junior David Tennant (10th Doctor). Christopher Eccleston (9th Doctor) is FUNNY. I still don't like Rose. And, OMG, Gwen and Tosh from Torchwood! Before they were Gwen and Tosh on Torchwood! And Naked!John Barrowman. Suh-WEET.
Getting to the angst fic now. Promise.
Disclaimer in Chapter One.
Chapter Eight: Come Undone
The ground was harder than she’d anticipated, and pain shot up and through her spine as her knees impacted the dirt. A pair of hands wrenched her into a standing position by the collar on her shirt, and for a fleeting moment, she thought he might pick her up completely and throw her into the water below. Instead, she was shoved forward and immediately surrounded on all sides.
They marched in effortless formation away from the Royal Guard. They delved deeper into the woods, and the foliage became so dense that the afternoon sunlight darkened from brilliant yellow to almost completely pale white. She did not see Jeb, and dared not make a sound by calling out to him.
A few tents were set up in a hastily cleared area, and DG was pushed roughly inside the one closest to their path. It looked like the resistance tents she’d rested in the night after the Eclipse-army green and thick enough for privacy, but thin enough to be heard through and controlled clearly.
A female opposition fighter accompanied her into the tent, and motioned to a cot set in the corner. “Have a seat,” she ordered, but her voice was not as hardened as her male counterparts.
DG sat, her sore body thankful for the relief. “Thank you.”
The woman seemed briefly surprised at the comment, but said nothing as the two men from the clearing entered the tent.
“You can go now, Meg,” Garrett said, and the woman nodded, sparing one last glance at the princess.
The second man dragged two chairs behind him, and set them up in front of the cot. Garrett sat, openly appraising DG. His scrutiny was not uncomfortable, however; he seemed genuinely curious, like a child examining a new toy for the first time. He turned to his counterpart for a moment and whispered something behind his hand. Then he turned back to DG and said mockingly, “So you’re the princess of light.”
DG straightened as best she could on the rickety cot, feeling the steel bars pressing into the backs of her thighs. “I’m DG. What other people call me isn’t my concern.”
Garrett leaned closer, and she could feel his breath on her chin. She refused to flinch, fisting her hands around the canvas of her seat. “What is your concern, Princess?”
DG had to suppress a shiver as she searched his dead eyes. “I want to rebuild the O.Z. Just like you.”
His lips barely moved from a snarl. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Because we took something most valuable to you,” Garrett replied, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, as though they were casually discussing the strength of the Red Sox bullpen. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“That’s not true,” DG protested, but Garrett cut her off.
“Don’t waste your time lying, Princess,” the resistance leader said coldly. “I don’t appreciate playing games.”
Taking a deep breath, DG squared her shoulders. “I’m not playing games with you, sir. This land is as much your home as it is mine. I want to help in any way I can.”
“Tell me one thing.”
“I’ll try.”
“Why did your mother ignore our request for a meeting? All of this could have been avoided.”
Somehow I doubt that, the princess thought to herself before replying. “She’s trying to adjust back to her life along with the rest of us. Her family took precedence for a little while. I’d think you could understand that.”
“You mean the needs of a few outweighed the needs of many.”
DG clenched her fists. “There are many problems that need fixing. My mother had to prioritize.”
“And she chose the Sorceress over her kingdom.”
“Azkadellia is not the Sorceress.” Her tone was gritty.
“My spies would contradict that assessment, young lady.”
“Are you interested in hearing the full story, or just believing what you think to be true, so it’s easier to justify the things you’ve done?”
Garrett’s eyes flashed in warning. “We’ve done the things necessary to survive. You couldn’t begin to understand that.”
“I’d understand that more than you could ever fathom,” DG replied, crossing her arms. “I trekked through this godforsaken land not remembering a damn thing, just trying to survive. I know what you have had to sacrifice.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Look,” DG sighed, watching a small beam of fading sunlight as it cut through the faded canvas, “we’re just going in circles here. Let’s move on and figure out where to go from here.”
Garrett scoffed. “Not interested in hearing our tales of woe, Princess?”
“There’s no use dwelling in the past. The only thing we have in common is our desire to make the future better.”
“We want your mother off the throne.”
DG’s blood ran cold. “Excuse me?”
“She stood by and let your sister lead a violent coup that destroyed our homes. She’s useless.”
“She didn’t have a choice!” DG protested.
“There’s always a choice, young lady. It may not be a decision we wish to make, but there are always options.”
DG swallowed her angry fear. “I can’t make that kind of promise, sir.”
“You won’t,” Garrett corrected.
DG shook her head. “I came here to hear your demands, and let you know that our goals are the same. I didn’t come here to negotiate things I have no business handling.”
“Then your trip was wasted,” the leader said, rising from his chair. “Meg?”
The woman entered the tent again and looked at Garrett. When he had the woman’s attention, he spoke again. “Shackle her, please.”
“That’s not necessary-“ DG protested, and writhed beneath the frosty metal cuff. The chain clicked around a stake in the ground, and she automatically pulled against it, tugging as hard as she could. The metal merely clanged a sad apology, and she sat back on the cot, rubbing her forehead with her free hand.
Garrett and Meg left, and after a moment, the tent opening rustled again. Jeb Cain was thrust inside and shackled within the blink of an eye. DG could tell he’d been there before from the raw, red broken skin encircling his wrists. They sat in silence until Garrett left, and Jeb leaned forward. “Are you all right, Princess?”
DG nodded. “So far. You?”
“I could use a hot meal and a bath,” he replied, trying to be nonchalant, and she could see his father in his effort to calm her nerves. He had a few new lacerations marring his forehead, and the red cuts stood out against his pale skin and fading bruises, but as he spoke again, she could see by the way he held himself that he’d been through worse and was trying to reassure her. “Is Doc okay?”
DG nodded again. “She was when I left. She’s keeping an eye on Az.”
Jeb breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.”
DG leaned toward him. “What have you noticed about these people?”
Jeb lowered his voice. “Everything’s well planned; very little room for error or maneuvering. They also want your sister’s head on a platter. I think they believe you’ll trade me for her.”
DG’s stomach sank. “I can’t…I can’t make that kind of choice.”
Jeb shook his head. “We won’t let it come to that,” he promised. “If you can keep them talking, give in to some of their demands, I think they’ll let us go. At the very least, Father knows where we are. I’d bet anything he’s mounting a counterattack as we speak.”
“We don’t have much manpower,” DG said quietly, looking down at her hands. “These idiots outnumber us at least four-to-one.”
“Then I hope you’re a better diplomat than you are an optimist.”
The tent flap was thrown open again, and Jeb and DG sat back, both steeling themselves for Garrett’s wrath and return. His second-in-command stood behind him, and both men looked as though they were made of steel as they entered the tiny space.
Garrett pulled his chair close to DG, enough that their legs touched. It took much of her willpower not to shudder at the contact. “Now, then, Princess,” he began, “we have a few things to discuss.”
“I talk better when I’m not tied up like some cow.”
“We’ll see about that,” the leader replied, leaning ever closer, and DG’s eyes flickered to his hands as they clenched in and out of fists. He was fighting to keep his tone even and under control. “You said you could explain why the Sorceress is still alive, and why your family continues to live in her Black Tower.”
DG cleared her throat. “When we were young, Azkadellia and I were exploring the woods. The Old Witch of the Dark lived in those woods, and possessed Azkadellia. The Witch used my sister’s strength and magic to destroy the O.Z. Once she was defeated, it took a toll on my sister’s health. We cannot move her, no matter how much we want to leave that awful place.”
Garrett studied her for a long moment. “The Witch of the Dark is legend, child.”
DG shook her head. “No. I saw her. When I was a child, and when I killed her on the night of the Eclipse.”
The leader tapped his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. “Say I believe you. Why did your mother not banish your sister, or exorcise the Witch from her?”
“She couldn’t.” DG looked at her hands.
“How is that?”
“She wasn’t strong enough.” The brunette swallowed around the guilt in her throat.
At this, Garrett tugged angrily on her chains, curling them around calloused, broken knuckles, and causing her to bend roughly at the waist, her head hitting his knees. “I warned you about lying.”
“I’m not!” DG protested, raising her head, blinking away the stars that clouded her vision. “She didn’t have enough magic to banish the Witch from my sister.”
The second-in-command leaned in. “She was the most powerful being in the O.Z.! Of course she could have exorcised her.”
“You don’t know what she could or could not have done.” DG was quickly losing her patience. “But it doesn’t matter now.”
“Our history matters greatly, young lady,” Garrett replied, releasing her shackles. “You’d do well to remember that.”
The princess sighed. “I’m not here to argue semantics with you. We just need to move forward, and to do that, we need to work together. Tell me what you want.”
“You need to understand the hell your family put this kingdom through,” the second-in-command told her.
“We’ve been through the exact same hell,” DG told them tiredly. “I know how it feels to have your world turned upside down.”
“I highly doubt that, Princess,” Garrett replied.
With her free hand, DG pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, you asked me to come out here and hear you out. Now that I’m here, you’re doing nothing but poking at me like a piñata. What’s the point of that?”
“Princess,” Jeb warned lowly, watching as Garrett’s eyes narrowed.
“Why didn’t your mother come?” Garrett queried darkly.
“She’s looking after my sister,” the brunette repeated.
“So she has enough magic to help save your sister and not her homeland?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It always is with you people.” Garrett reached into his back pocket and pulled out a dirty rag that sent DG’s chest pounding. A black knife handle protruded from the end, and she glanced anxiously at Jeb before Garrett moved again. The leader pulled the sheathed knife from the rag and used the bandana’s fabric to wipe at his brow. The princess couldn’t hold in her relieved exhale.
The resistance leader looked down interestedly at her. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he said with a hellish half-smirk, “I’m not going to hurt you. Yet.”
“Look,” DG began, her mind quickly going blank at the threat, the research she’d done over the previous days seeping into the night sky and becoming useless, “send me back with a list of your requests. I’ll talk them over with my mother, and then we can come to some sort of compromise.”
“You’re not going anywhere any time soon.” Garrett rose to leave and the second-in-command followed him. She looked at Jeb worriedly, the sinking feeling that she was in way over her head chilling her as the night wind did not. “They’re not going to let us go, are they?”
Jeb shook his head slowly. “We just have to hang on until Father gets here. Just keep ‘em talking.”
The tent opened again, and a young woman walked in, Garrett right behind her. He ushered her gently to the seat he had been occupying just moments before, and patted her on the shoulder. “Go ahead, Rowena.”
The woman, only a few years older than DG, cleared her throat and began to speak. “The Witch executed my parents,” she said, no affect in her voice. “I was ten annuals old. My mother was pregnant when they shot her in the head.”
DG sucked in a breath. “I’m…I’m so-“
Rowena held up a hand. “I don’t want you to say you’re sorry. But you need to know who you’re defending, who you’re making excuses for.” Saying nothing further, she rose from the chair and left the tent.
An older, grey-haired man replaced her, telling them how his farm was burned because he refused to house Longcoats for the night. He was followed by two orphaned children, a boy and a girl, who had hidden beneath the floorboards when their parents were taken from their home and eventually hanged in Central City.
The line of victims continued for close to three hours. At its merciful end, DG could no longer breathe. She had doubled over at the waist halfway through the litany of horror stories, and was trying in vain to stop her desperate, wracking sobs. Jeb used his free hand to rub her back awkwardly.
Garrett reentered the tent and looked at her interestingly. “Do you understand now, Princess?”
DG could not find the words, so she merely nodded.
Garrett nodded. “All these things happened because of your family.” He leaned over and began to unshackle her. “You will go back to the tower and tell your mother to abdicate the throne.”
Her response was stuttered. “I…I can’t do that.”
“Your family is the cause of all this destruction.” He tilted his head and watched her curiously, stopping his key in the lock. “You didn’t really think we’d allow the people that ruined our lives to remain in power, did you?”
DG swallowed guiltily. In truth, she hadn’t considered it. “Who would you propose rule if not my family?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Garrett said softly. “You won’t be around to see it.”
Cold panic ran swiftly through the brunette. “What?” she repeated dumbly.
“You admitted it earlier; you were there when the Witch of the Dark possessed your sister. You didn’t stop this so-called possession. You’re just as guilty as the rest of your family. You’ll be punished accordingly.”
“That’s not going to solve anything,” Jeb interjected, fighting his shackles. “Send her back with a list of demands. The palace will listen to you. They already have, just by sending her here.”
Garrett turned to him. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking she gives a damn about anybody other than herself, especially not us commoners.”
DG shook her head. “I want to fix this. Tell me how I can fix this. Please.” She put a hand on the older man’s arm, which he shrugged off immediately.
“Don’t pretend to be so familiar with your subjects, Princess,” he warned. “You still have a lot to learn.”
“I know that,” she agreed, watching him as he returned to fiddling with her chains. “I’m doing the best I can. We all are. We want the same things; to help the O.Z.”
Garrett scoffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Think, think, she ordered herself. “I have helped the O.Z.,” she finally said. “I replenished the Fields of the Papay. I helped defeat the Witch. Jeb was there; he saw it.”
“I did,” the younger Cain confirmed quickly.
Garrett and his second exchanged a look. Latching on hopefully, the brunette continued, “Have there been any attacks on anyone since the Eclipse, by the Papay or Longcoats?”
At their silence, DG braved a smile. “My magic-my family’s magic-that’s what did it. We’ve saved lives.”
“By feeding brutal animals? By allegedly banishing a legend? That hardly counts, Princess.” Garrett shook his head. “It’s minimal in the face of all you’ve done to ruin the O.Z.”
Keep them talking, she reminded herself. Every second counts. “Look, I will be more than happy to take your demands to my mother. Just let Jeb and me go.”
“He’s not going anywhere,” the second-in-command said. “We need you to come back.”
“I’ll come back,” the princess promised immediately. “You have my word.”
“Like we had your mother’s promises? A lot of good they did us.” Garrett shook his head. “We need an insurance policy. He stays here.”
DG shook her head. “You say you want to compromise, and yet you refuse to meet me halfway.”
“You need to learn how to listen, Princess.” Garrett leaned down again, and this time, she did flinch and sit backwards as he invaded her personal space. “You’re not in charge here.”
“I’m not leaving without him.” Her voice was staunch in its stubbornness.
“You’re leaving when I say you leave.” Garrett’s voice was equally commanding.
“No.”
The older man pulled his gun from its holster within half the blink of an eye and pressed it back against her head. “Go back to the palace, and deliver your family to us.”
She refused to let her tears out. “Go to hell.”
“DG.” Jeb’s voice was lower as he warned her again.
She ignored him. Looking up at Garrett, she said, “You’re just going to kill me anyway. Might as well get it over with.”
He turned off the safety and cocked the hammer. His second leapt to his feet. “Garrett, this isn’t the plan. She has to go back!”
“My men will come for you anyway,” DG said, staring up at the older man and setting her jaw. “I’ll bet you anything they’re just waiting to attack. You’re finished.” Looking back up at the resistance leader, she saw his hand begin to waver. Yeah, that’s it. Come on, drop it, she begged silently.
Her stomach dropped when his hand stopped shaking. “You’re in no position to make demands or compromises.”
She pulled against the chains. “God damn it!” she yelled, frustration seeping from every pore. “What do you want from me?”
Garrett’s eyes turned to something she’d never seen before, and wished never to see again. He turned the gun away from her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Her relief was short-lived.
Before she could form tears or even a shout of protest, Garrett fired a large caliber round into Jeb’s chest.
The young blond man looked stunned for a moment before he pitched forward onto the ground, his shackles pulling the cot halfway on top of him. DG could not see his face, as she was focused on the profuse amount of blood seeping among the dirt and the grass.
Garrett looked at her coolly. “I want you to understand how much it hurts when someone betrays your trust, just like your family betrayed ours.” He looked over briefly at the toppled cot covering Jeb, then looked quickly back at her. “You didn’t have any intention of coming here to listen. You just wanted what you wanted; to rescue your friends.” Leaning down, his hot breath ruffled her bangs. “No one was there to rescue us from you. Maybe now you can see it from our side.”
The second man disarmed him and pulled his comrade roughly from the tent. DG threw herself on the ground, still attached to her own cot. She tried desperately to maneuver Jeb’s cot off him, and was eventually able to turn him, and the bed, on their sides.
She turned him to rest on his back in the dirt, and DG could hear the bubbling of the blood in his chest wound. Hot, terrified, angry tears splashed from her eyes onto his face, which became more and more pale with each labored breath. She half-dragged him onto her lap and rocked him as her mother had rocked her when she’d come home with one sports-related injury or another. “No, no, no,” she pleaded in a strangled cry, pressing her hands to try and stop the blood flow. “Jeb, don’t do this to me. Please, Jeb!”
He blinked unseeingly at her, and she felt him start to go slack in her arms. She moved her top hand and tapped at his face, trying in vain to keep him conscious. “Hang on, Jeb. Dear God, please hang on. Your dad’ll be here soon. I know he will. Please, Jeb, hang on.”
He whispered something, rustling her bangs, and she leaned down to better hear him. At first, she shook her head at his request. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Liar,” he mouthed, eyes slipping shut. “Just tell Doc.”
“I promise,” she finally said, breaking into uncontrollable, wracking sobs as the blood flow and his breathing stopped.
A shadow crossed into their tent, but she did not look up. “Murderer!” she screeched, an unearthly sound. “How could you?! You bastards!”
A soft hand landed on her shoulder, and she shrugged it away. It was insistent, however, and DG looked up, wishing she had better control of her magic so as to retaliate.
She saw Meg, the woman who had first brought her to the makeshift brig, kneeling next to her. Silently, the other woman inserted a key into the shackles binding both the princess and the former resistance leader’s body. “There is a horse at the edge of the clearing,” she said softly, checking over her shoulder. “I will stay with him until you come back with reinforcements.”
“I don’t trust you,” DG spat venomously. “You killed an innocent man.”
“So did you,” Meg replied, “in my husband, and in the hundreds of husbands, fathers and sons of the past annuals. But that’s done now. You need to go, Princess. Stay parallel to the crack in the O.Z. and you should come across your guardsmen soon. Our spies indicated they were close.”
DG searched the woman’s face for any sign of deception. “Why are you helping me?”
Meg sighed. “Because this has to end, and not in the way Garrett is planning.” She pulled DG up by her elbow. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll stay with him.” She pulled Jeb’s body off DG and righted the cot. The two women lifted him onto the canvas, and Meg unfolded a blanket, covering him gently with it. She pulled Garrett’s chair from its spot and, once DG passed, sat guarding the tent.
The princess ran at twice her normal speed until she found the horse Meg had promised her would be there, munching on some grass. She mounted the steed quickly and raced out of the camp, praying the thundering hooves wouldn’t give her away.
She was halfway back to Central City when she heard someone call out. “Stop in the name of the Queen!”
She pulled the horse up short and saw the colors of the Royal Guard flanked in front of her. “It’s me!” she cried out.
The company front parted, and she saw Cain on horseback, trotting toward her. He stopped with wide eyes, scanning down her front. She looked down, horror stricken.
She was covered in Jeb’s blood.
Cain dismounted and ran to her, pulling her from the horse. “Are you all right?” he demanded, looking her over quickly.
She could not reply, for there were no words or thoughts to be formed. Cain gripped her tightly by the upper arms and bent his knees, trying to catch her gaze. She was steadfast in avoiding him, however, and wrenched her eyes shut, though some tears slipped through and mixed with the blood on her shirt.
“DG?” Cain shook her. “DG, talk to me.”
The princess heard another set of footsteps approach them quickly, and she turned her head, catching sight of the medic striding toward her, bag in hand.
“Where are you hurt?” the blonde demanded, removing one of Cain’s hands to take the princess’s pulse.
“I’m...not,” DG replied weakly.
The world seemed to stop in that moment. All sound ceased, and for once, the brunette knew the meaning of deathly silence. Ainsley dropped her hand, her alto voice tentatively wary and disbelieving. “DG, where’s Jeb?”
An anguished cry escaped the youngest princess, and she would have fallen to the ground completely had Cain not been there to catch her. She saw the medic begin to shake so badly that she dropped her supply bag. DG finally looked between Cain and the doctor. “I’m…I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, wrapping her blood soaked arms around her middle and rocking back and forth, just as she had in the tent. “They…they just…”
“No.” Cain pushed himself away from her, standing on unsteady feet, and she was forced to look up at him, begging forgiveness. “They wouldn’t.”
“They did.” DG’s reply was little more than a whisper, and her face crumbled as Cain walked away from her. “They just…”
“Don’t say it.” Ainsley’s tone was deadly. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“He said to tell you he loved you. Both of you.”
In a flash, DG was on her feet again, with Ainsley’s fist bunching the collar of her shirt and nearly lifting the brunette off the ground. “Don’t. Say. It.”
One of the Royal Guards came up swiftly behind the medic and wrapped two strong arms around her waist, wrenching the blonde away from the princess. The medic flailed and bucked against him, kicking him roughly in the shins. To DG, she cried, “Why didn’t you save him? You could have saved him!”
DG shook her head, beginning to feel drained from the amount of tears she’d cried over the past half day. “I tried to stop them. But there was nothing I could do. I’m so sorry.”
Cain refused to look at her. Ainsley finally wrestled herself away from her captors and charged the princess, red-faced. “You selfish little…” DG saw her fist clench and braced herself for the stinging impact. When it did not come, the princess opened her eyes and saw the medic’s shaking hand hovering near her cheek. “You used your magic to make your sister stronger! Your mother used her magic to save you! You could have done something!”
DG could only make out the woman’s blurry form through her tears.
“I guess we don’t merit that much consideration, do we? I guess you couldn’t be bothered.” The blonde turned to the convened guard, wild in her anguish. “All hail Princess Dorothy Gale, no better than her witch of a sister.”
DG’s voice was weak. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you’re sorry. Well, that makes it all better now, doesn’t it?” The medic was shaking so badly that DG thought the ground must be moving beneath her.
Cain walked up behind the blonde and put a hand on her shoulder. When he did, the anger leapt from the blonde into the midnight sky, and she broke into silent sobs, turning and shielding herself against the Tin Man’s chest. His strong arms enveloped her, and he murmured useless placations against the crown of her head. They fell to the ground together, anguished tears drowning out the rush of the waterfalls nearby.
The Royal Guardsman who had pulled Ainsley away walked silently around the grieving parties and addressed the princess. “We’re waiting on your orders, Your Highness. What should we do?”
DG could only think of one thing as she looked down at Cain, who glanced at, and then quickly away, from her. Fix this. “We head back to the tower. I will issue a proclamation of war upon our return. Then they’ll come to us. And we’ll be ready.”
End Chapter Eight
So, do you guys completely hate me now? Probably. Uhoh.