The first time Dorothy laid eyes upon Buckingham Palace, she was six years old and she told her mother that one day she would live there and be a princess with a crown. Little did she knew that almost a decade later, she would actually be living in Buckingham Palace and treated like royalty. Well, as close to royalty as she would ever get.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor of her new room, Dorothy looked at the pristine white and gold walls that surrounded her. She felt like she was in the fanciest hotel in the world and was far too afraid to touch anything, even her own bed. Everything just seemed too perfect and clean – a stark contrast to her room back at Westminster which was overrun with books and almost impossible to live in but somehow, she did, and it became home to her.

She was surprised how clean everything was, that even after the year after the world had gone to shit, people still found time to keep Buckingham Palace as clean and as perfect as possible – keeping it in its former glory.

She didn't know how long she'd be staying at the palace and that thought made her extremely uncomfortable. If she wanted to return home; she would need to send a letter out to Nicola, wait for a reply, arrange for someone to take her home and make the journey across London to get back. It was far too much hassle to really deal with.

Moving to kneel, Dorothy picked up her bag to begin unpacking. Rolling her eyes, she unzipped her bag and emptied her bag by turning it upside down and shaking it, the contents of her bag spilling onto the carpeted floor. Amongst the clothes and other personal belongings, an M9 pistol fell out onto the floor with a hard clang.

Slowly picking it up, Dorothy looked at it carefully, taking in every small detail. She knew vaguely how to use a gun, she'd used a lot of the fake ones at arcades before the disaster, but she figured that it was nothing like using an actual gun. She hoped she would never have to actually use it, but in this world; there was a higher probability of her using it than her not using it.

The gun itself didn't scare her, but the thought of using it to kill someone else if the time came to it terrified her. Sure, she could probably take down a sicko but another human being? She could never bring herself to do it.

A knock on the door caused her to promptly hide the gun under the small pile of clothes in front of her before she stood up and she called out. "Come in!"

The door opened, revealing David who gave her a slow and awkward wave. "It's time for dinner, I thought you'd want someone to escort you there."

Dorothy nodded, giving him a sweet smile as she smoothed out her clothes, walking slowly towards him. "Sure, I'd really appreciate it."

David took a step to the side, allowing Dorothy to walk past before closing the door behind her and leading her down a hallway and down some stairs, all the while making small talk with her, not that she really minded – she rather enjoyed his company.

The pair arrived at the grand dining hall, the doors opened for them by two boys in red jackets, causing Dorothy to give them a light smile as she passed by them.

David lead Dorothy towards a blond boy wearing a red rugby shirt. "Dorothy, this is Pod; our head of security and he will be your personal bodyguard throughout your stay here."

Pod smiled for a second before it dropped as soon as David's words processed in his head. "Wait-what? David, I didn't agree to this."

David ignored Pod's protests and continued speaking as if he hadn't been interrupted, simply raising his hand with his index finger pointing upwards in Pod's face, quietening him. "Pod, this is Dorothy; the ambassador from Parliament, she's here on behalf of Nicola."

Dorothy forced a smile as she held out a hand towards Pod, which he shook firmly, neither of them saying a word to one another – both feeling somewhat awkward due to Pod's protests and David's quick decision to make Pod Dorothy's personal bodyguard.

Sitting down at the extravagant and seemingly endless table, Dorothy began to feel overwhelmed with the amount of people and the glamour of the Palace. All she wanted was to go back to Parliament and be somewhere that was familiar, and she knew she could leave whenever she wanted with no problems or questions.

Food was promptly served – slightly undercooked beef, mashed potatoes and vegetables. A drastic change from the tinned food she used to have at Parliament.

In all honesty, it made her want to vomit.

Almost as soon as the food was on the table, everyone began to stuff their faces, the only sounds in the hall were their chewing and their cutlery clanging against their plates. Dorothy took a few bites of beef and are some vegetables but most of the time, she moved her food around her plate with her fork, almost as if she was making it look like she was eating but in reality, she'd barely touched it.

"Didn't they feed you back home?" Pod asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, nodding towards Dorothy's thin frame and her still almost full plate of untouched food. Although everyone was thinner due to the disaster and lack of food, Dorothy seemed to almost be a pile of bones compared to the others around the table.

She had a decent sized chest and behind on her, but compared to the rest of her body, it just looked… wrong. It seemed that even before the disaster, she was skinny – no, not just skinny. She was almost wasting away in some areas. Eating disorder perhaps? Pod didn't want to ask Dorothy about that – it was far too personal. Plus, he didn't really want to piss off his now main priority.

After a few moments of silence, Dorothy gave him an awkward smile, her shoulders shrugging. "They did, it's just that I didn't eat much… I was always busy. Being Nicola's assistant, it kept me pretty busy."

Pod swallowed his mouthful of potatoes, already loading up his next forkful. "So, you're basically like Nicola's Jester?"

Dorothy shot him a glare. If looks could kill, Pod would've died right then and there with the fork full of mashed potatoes still in his hand. "I'm nothing like Jester."

"You sort of are; I mean, you're like her messenger, like Jester-"

"So, you're assuming that I'm a closeted gay, despite looking like the dictionary definition of a gay, who clearly has a crush on their leader despite having a boyfriend who isn't actually my boyfriend because I haven't actually told him that I'm completely in love with him because I don't know how to compute human emotions other than 'act like a dick' or 'panic'. While all this is happening, I secretly have photos of my mental boyfriend which I use to masturbate to before crying every night because he'll never be mine. Sure, I'm exactly like Jester."

And with that, Dorothy pushed herself away from the table and left the room, leaving everyone at the table stunned and speechless.

Note

Pod and Dorothy will eventually become a brotp, it's gonna happen, trust me. Sorry this took a lot longer than expected to put up, I have way too many fanfics I'm working on at the moment and I'm trying to find time to write all of them so just be patient with me. Plus, writers block is a nasty little bitch.

Until next time;

Lorna.