Chapter: A Lifetime to Remember: 01 of ?

Author: Sam

Story: A Deeper Magic

Pairing: D.G. & Wyatt Cain; Azkadellia & Zero; others

Main Characters: D.G., Wyatt Cain, Ambrose/ Glitch, Azkadellia, Zero

Rating: M: sexual situations, violence, and language. (Actually, it may not start this way, but I give myself freedom to run with it.)

Summary: Lavender is non-magical. Az is un-trusted. Ahamo is an outsider. And DG is an imposter. Surely the O.Z. can do better than that!

Spoiler: Yes, the entire movie, and even some information garnered from interviews with the cast.

Category: AU: Fantasy, General

Disclaimer: "Tin Man" is a trademark of Imagiquest Entertainment and L. Frank Baum. I am in no way connected these people, and I do not claim ownership to these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story... and most likely not a story L. Frank Baum would have written, had he had the time or no. I am making no money from this, and it is just for my entertainment, and that of free entertainment to a select group of friends. Thank You.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Setting: The O.Z., starting about three weeks after the double eclipse.

Note: This story is based on a series of dreams, daydreams, and song-fics I've conjured ever since first watching the movie. My roommate finally cajoled me into writing them all down, so I combined them into one story. Please feel free to give constructive criticism as well as encouragement. I am a slow writer.

Character Notes: Leona is not an OC as such. I quote "Ah, school days. I remember a lovely lass named Leona…" per Glitch, Episode 2, "Tin Man". I merely gave her a background. As well, it has been pointed out that Ahamo has blue eyes and Az, dark hazel. However, I have given them both brown eyes for a specific reason. Please forgive this minor change.

Second Note: I know the entire "coup after the eclipse" thing has been explored many times; however, my roommate assures me that my version is unique. As she is a follower of "Tin Man" fic, I believe her. So, please, let me know if I should even continue or if this is the 'same old, same old'. Thanks.

Feedback: Please? I love comments.

xxx

He knelt down, one brown-clad knee sinking into the soft emerald grass. Slender hands, made for working inside delicate machinery, wrapped around pudgy fingers. Drawing the child of four closer into his protective embrace, he guided the girl's small hands as they fluttered over a porcelain figurine in a red dress. Softly he hummed: a gentle tune of longing and joy.

Behind the pair, a couple strolled along the lake shore. Dark waters rippled at the gently sloping bank, a rainbow of wildflowers giving way to dense reeds and lilies. Blue linen whispered against brown suede as the pair, the man as blond as the lady was brunette, leaned into one another. They laughed, their voices a happy drone carried on the soft breeze.

The dark-haired man in the brown and gold uniform kept his attention on the equally dark-haired child rather than her parents. His tune never wavered as he continued to guide the child's hands over the porcelain figure. He moved her hands lightly up and over the delicate features, the chiffon dress, the dark ringlets, the golden tiara . . . helping the girl to see the doll with her hands as well as her eyes.

A man in furred robes crouched nearby. His receding hairline adding to the air of wisdom surrounding him. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, squatting in a near-impossible position as his dark eyes darted over those present. The smile on his bifurcated lips belied the anxiety in his other movements as he seemingly ignored the birdsong in the trees nearby. He constantly twisted his gnarled fingers around one another, rocking on his feet and watching intently.

Pushing the long brown coat out of his way, the pale-faced man twisted his clever hands once more. The sun glinted off gold braiding, blending with the glare off the gold and ivory pavilion close by. His wise brown eyes caught the frustration in the girl's equally brown eyes. He smiled as she bit her lip. Again, he hummed the gentle tune, guiding her hands over the figurine.

"I can't!" The little girl's voice rose in a desperate wail. "It's too hard. I'm not smart enough."

He lifted one hand to stroke her dark hair. "You are smart, Princess. You have to believe." He placed his hand once more over hers. "Relax. Let the doll do what it wants. You . . ."

She spun in his arms, facing him with a stubborn pout, dark eyes flashing. "No, Ambrose, I can't! She won't fly!"

Ambrose laughed softly and pulled the girl into a hug. "Yes she will, Princess. You just have to trust yourself. The light in you will help her lift off of . . ."

"No!" she shook her head. "It's too hard, Ambrose. I can't do it! You don't know what it's like. You're too smart. But I'm just a little girl. And I'm stupid."

No longer laughing, smile forgotten, Ambrose pulled the little girl back into his arms, encircling her in gentle warmth. "I do know what it's like, Princess. I used to think the same exact thing."

She turned surprised eyes up to her mentor's pale face. "But you've never been stupid, Ambrose."

He smiled down at her and nodded. "Yes, I was. I was your age. My father talked about sending me to school so I could be a great thinker. He wanted me to learn fighting, too. I told him I couldn't do it because I was weak and stupid. He was so much smarter than me."

"You're the smartest man in the O.Z." Her tone mirrored the disbelief and disdain in her eyes. Apparently she thought her mentor lied to her.

Ambrose laughed out loud, drawing the attention of the couple by the lake and the fur-robed man near the pavilion. He shook his head, soft black hair shimmering jewel-like in the sun, like polished jet. "Princess, I wasn't always a smart man." He hugged her, letting go of the doll completely. "Once, I was a little boy."

The princess lifted doubtful eyes, but he continued. "And I thought I was never going to be smart or strong or worth anything. I thought everyone was better than me . . . and my father was so smart and tall . . ." his voice drifted into silence as he let the memory of his father take hold. Brown eyes grew far away.

Silently, the girl watched him, doll in one little hand. She seemed to be studying him closely, as if inspecting a new, unfamiliar man in this familiar mentor of hers. As if afraid to break his mood, she placed a tiny, pudgy hand on his pale cheek. "Ambrose?" Trust mixed into the hesitancy of her childish tones.

Blinking, Ambrose shook his head once then looked down at the child. He smiled: a welcoming bright gesture. Smoothing fine craftsman's hands down her pale yellow sundress, and petting her dark ringlets, he said, "he told me something that I think will help you, too." With a sudden shift of weight, he dropped onto the grass, pulling the princess with him.

She giggled as he adjusted her in his lap, legs crossed as a cushion below her, protecting her from the soft green grass and the rich earth below.

"The skill of discretion, the persuasion of tongue, the knowledge of ages, will be yours one day, Son. Not one man can journey on another man's quest. As you travel through life, you won't win every test. But you will acquire the strength and the brain to teach all around you and learn well from their pain. When life's road has finished, you will rest among friends. Begin as a boy; you'll be a man in the end."

"But, Ambrose . . ." her voice sounded puzzled.

He looked down, smiling. "Yes, Princess?"

"I'm a girl."

xxx

"Oh, I wish I could remember." DG leaned against the back of Glitch's chair. Her dark hair slid forward, just caressing the tops of her breasts, hidden in a plain cotton T-shirt. Denim jeans hugged her curves as the twenty annual old shifted against the hard wood. Large blue eyes stared intently at the viewing tube, trying to absorb every nuance, to trigger any memory of a past long hidden.

The man before her was a shadow of the mentor displayed on the viewer. His hair no longer shone in black waves, instead protruding in unkempt dreadlocks around a too-obvious zipper down the middle of his head. His skin seemed paler than before, his clever hands twisted and flexed in unspoken, restless confusion. Those astute brown eyes were just as intelligent, yet something lurked behind them: some haunted confusion which spoke more of the bouts of amnesia caused by his 're-education' than even the zipper. Ambrose, better known as Glitch now, had a condition that had been described as 'being trapped in his own mind', and it was obvious the cruel horror that truly meant. Only one thing marked the wreck of a man before her as the gentle genius of the memory disc: his crisp new brown and gold uniform. Too large after the annuals of need and neglect, it suited him all the same.

"There're so many things I want to know. But it's not coming back. I can't remember that at all." DG's voice sounded more frustrated wail than conversational, though no one present seemed to fault her.

She had been in the O.Z. for just over a month. In that time, she'd met death and life, enemies and friends, failure and triumph. She learned she wasn't a part-time student with a waitressing job living on a farm in mid-America. She had been living in a well-constructed lie, protected against the truth and the witch who'd killed her once. Her quest had taken her to the O.Z., Outer Zone, and a family she'd never known she had in a steampunk-ish world she had only imagined in dreams and sketches.

Now, surrounded by family and friends: her mother, Queen Lavender; her father, Royal Consort Ahamo; her sister, Princess Azkadellia; royal advisor, Ambrose; and royal viewer, Raw; DG felt more at home than she ever had on the Other Side. But now she had to contend with relearning a life she hadn't known since she had been five. Her memories, faded with time, obscured with protective magic, were as fleeting as those of the royal advisor.

Which brought her to her current activity: watching old memory discs of a time long gone.

After a long silence, she shook her head, straightening from Glitch's chair. "I'm sorry. I can't remember." Her voice held a calm acceptance under-laid with frustration.

"Of course you don't." Glitch sounded as cheery as he had in the recorded memory. He flicked a long finger over the slot to retrieve the small opalescent disc. "You weren't there."

DG frowned and looked down at the man. "Uh, Glitch, you were trying to teach me to fly my doll . . ."

He shook his head. "No, I never taught you magic. That was Tutor."

No one else in the room spoke, allowing the pair their argument. DG adopted a patient tone, gesturing with one work-roughened hand at the blank viewing tube. "Well, if that was Tutor, he shrunk, got heavy, and turned dark in only a couple of years. I can remember him trying to teach me. I can't remember you teaching me."

"That's because I never did." Glitch's tone sounded cheerful and certain. He seemed very sure that what they had just watched on the disc was not him trying to teach DG magic.

Patience could be one of her strong points when dealing with Glitch. DG moved around the chair, her steps muffled by her sneakers. She insisted on wearing her comfortable Other Side clothes whenever possible; the O.Z.'s form-fitting, movement-restrictive fashions were not to her taste. Squatting down beside the chair, hand on an armrest, DG softly said "Glitch. If you never taught me, what did we just watch?" She felt her logic would somehow sink in and trigger his memory.

With a laugh, Glitch chose another disc from the container in his lap. "That was me teaching Princess Azkadellia."

A soft chuckle from the lavender-eyed woman sitting behind them drew DG's frown. She turned from Glitch to face the pale, silver-haired woman, queen of the O.Z. and her mother. Lavender smiled at her daughter in apparent amusement, one hand gently resting on her husband's arm. Whereas she looked worn-out from her annuals of imprisonment by the witch, her husband, Ahamo, look as robust and happy as he had in the memory disc. His dark eyes held more lines, his blond hair was a bit more grayed, and his torso a bit fuller than the young man they'd just viewed, but he was definitely the same man. Her mother, harder to identify, appeared frailer than she had in the disc.

DG's eyes moved to meet her sister's. Azkadellia had been equally imprisoned by the witch, though not in some golden globe. Instead, the older princess had been possessed, unable to stop what had been done, what the witch made her do. Through Azkadellia, hidden by the pretty mask of a once-beloved princess, the witch had murdered DG, slaughtered thousands more, destroyed lands, and nearly sent the entire O.Z. into permanent darkness. Through the combined efforts of Queen Lavender and a handful of faithful friends, some dead and gone now, DG had returned and helped overthrow the evil possessing her sister.

Now, looking at the older woman, DG felt compassion for her sister. Since the end of the double eclipse, and the witch, Az had proven herself a strong, capable woman with a soft voice and a gentle nature. Unfortunately, the real woman often seemed clouded by the confusion and uncertainty left from fifteen annuals of enslavement. She masked the inner turmoil with a calm expression behind those brown eyes, a floor-length, body-hugging gown of pale gold, and a complicated upsweep of dark ringlets, but it would take a lot of healing to once again restore confidence and joy to the heir of the O.Z. throne.

With a sigh, DG turned back to face the memory viewer. "Okay. You got me. Good one. Now show me one with me in it. I want to remember."

Glitch's smile widened. "Learning about yourself involves learning about the people in your life. The world didn't begin with your birth."

DG lightly punched the man's arm. "Ha ha, Glitch."

He turned his grin up to her and slid the chosen disc into the slot. With a wave of his hand, he activated the machine. It bubbled to life, much like a great tube of green-tinted water. Then bubbles cleared and images clarified. Once more, the scene was set in the royal pleasure villa at Finaqua, their summer home.

xxx

Continued in Chapter Two: Rumors