Notes: the song is "She" by The Shroud. I don't own it or Tin Man. Listen here: www. youtube .com/watch?v=LRaXUt1T38g

She by Heavenmetal

She sits hidden away alone

Alone, with her toys that kiss her

And hold her tight

Turning, turning, dancing in the shadows

Trailing her hand in the dust

Catching patterns in the light

The fairy tale had a happy ending. The witch was defeated and all that was left to do was tend to her victims, to the O.Z. itself. But of all the reparations to be made there were some damages left in shadow, forgotten and untended.

The nightmares come every night; the populace of the outer zone arising in an angry mob, storming the castle to dispose the evil sorceress, unaware of the princess adrift in torment, in her own personal hell.

Azkadellia wakes from her nightmares and cries. She tries to keep her sobs silent but without fail her beloved sister comes to her as though some sixth sense warns D.G that something isn't right. D.G. coos to her, comforts her, holds her tight and tells her it will be all right. And Azkadellia cries harder because she doesn't deserve this kindness. All the bad that had happened in the last fifteen annuals was her own fault! She had killed D.G. and dozens, sweet maker, maybe hundreds of others! But Azkadellia says nothing, terrified more than anything that if she tells D.G. to leave before her darkness taints her sister again that D.G. might actually leave her all alone. The once proud Sorceress can't admit that she needs her sister but can't let her go either. So she cries.

D.G is the only one who sees her cry. She dutifully goes about her royal business, heir-apparent no longer. Despite the knowledge of her possession, the people would never accept her on the throne again. That she had not been put to death was a public relations nightmare in itself.

There is much work to be done. And in making plans for the repairs and betterment of the kingdom, Azkadellia can see the extent of the damage she has wrought. Perhaps this is her parents' way of punishing her, far less merciful than the execution she deserves. Still, she will not cry during the day, she owes that to the people she has wronged. Her tears will not help them. So she shoves her pain aside and goes about her repentance in silence.

When she walks the halls, she sometimes hears the whispers. The servants doubt that she has changed. That beneath the surface she is still the witch who enslaved them all. They fear the princess who shows no emotion at all… but they don't understand. She has no right to cry.

Her parents are distant. No doubt their affairs in ruling the kingdom keep them occupied but there is fear in her mother's eyes whenever she looks at Azkadellia so she avoids her mother as much as possible and wonders if D.G. has ever told them about the demons that haunt her in the dead of night.

She sees creatures behind the glass

Crying with a voice she heard

Once in a childhood dream

Falling through a window she once shattered

Clawing her face to escape

Wings that beat inside her head

She goes about her days, avoiding people because she hates the whispers and stares. She hates the cold formality, those who bow to her and make their obedience but never offer a kind word. Her dear sister, her murder victim, seems the only one to show concern. Azkadellia can't speak to her during the day though. She finds her lips won't form the words and her breath catches in her throat. Her sister is so radiant in the daylight. It's so apparent that she was meant for the throne. But when Azkadellia seeks her out she usually finds her with Cain, who glares at Azkadellia with distrust and tightens his hold on her, finding some excuse to lead her away.

But Azkadellia tries to put these thoughts aside for now as her handmaids ready her for tonight's dinner. Though she does not relish the thought of facing so many stares in one room, she will not refuse the invitation. Especially since it came from the one person who still cares for her, the only thing she has to hang on to.

Azkadellia watches the reflection in the mirror as the handmaids adjust her surcoat and affix her jewelry, the image of a beautiful woman she does not know. I hate you, she thinks. You destroy everything you touch.

The reflection merely stared, expressionless.

Sitting down to dinner, Azkadellia keeps her eyes on her plate, taking delicate bites and chewing slowly so she won't be forced into polite conversation. When D.G. had asked her to attend this dinner she didn't think that he would be here. The conversation carried on around her in a jovial way that forced a blade of pain into her heart. She tried not to look but the light of the candles glinted off that damned zipper every time he moved his head. Whenever he tilted his head to take a bite of food, was leaning over to share a joke with D.G. or an offhand comment with the queen she was forced to avert her gaze from the glare of her malicious handiwork. She hid her troubled frown for the moment behind her water goblet.

Ambrose smiled, the genius now playing the jester. He laughed, blissful despite his surgically enforced ignorance at the hands of the alchemists, alchemists acting on her orders. Azkadellia's breathing hitched and she mentally cursed her corset and heavy gown. She tried to ignore the voices around her. Instead she heard his begging, his pleading. It sounded like countless scores of others she had tortured and when had that pitiful display ever earned them her mercy.

Again she felt that painful tightening in her chest and a pricking, burning sensation behind her eyes. And she felt furious at herself. You mustn't cry, you selfish child. You haven't the right!

Her fork slipped out of her gloved hand and clattered to the plate, silencing the conversation. Azkadellia only then realized how loud her own breathing sounded.

"Azkadellia, is something the matter?"

Azkadellia stood, something in her mother's tone making her want to leave before she lost control of her emotions. "No, mother. Everything is perfectly satisfactory. I beg the pardon of your guests but I feel I must withdraw. Good evening to you all."

Azkadellia didn't give herself time to wonder if her mother had been offended by her exit or the shortness of her tone. She just had to get out of there. Her steps quickened as soon as she heard the wooden doors to the dining hall shut behind her and she started to run, ripping off her gloves as tears streamed unabashedly down her face. When she reached her room she threw herself upon her bed, letting the sobs overtake her in torment over the memories of the horrible things she'd done.

But then, what was this pain compared to the torment she'd inflicted. What mattered her loss compared to the harms she'd done to the whole kingdom? Furious again at the tears that refused to stop she scratched at her face, screaming until firm hands clutched her wrists and pinned them down.

"Azkadellia! Az! Stop it!"

At the sound of that sweet voice, Azkadellia clung to her sister. "I'm so sorry, D.G.! I couldn't do it! I can't-" Her breath hitched again, stolen by the sobs that made her whole body tremble.

D.G. petted her sister's hair. "So it was only your first dinner around everyone. You got nervous. Just come back downstairs-"

"No! I can't" Azkadellia was becoming frantic. She prayed silently that D.G. would not take her back to that torture even if she did deserve the pain. D.G. looked frightened, of her or for her she couldn't tell, but still Azkadellia let out a ragged breath as she tried to calm herself. She felt that her drying tears were burning the fresh cuts on her face and she wiped them away. D.G. promised she would never let go again and Azkadellia knew she meant it but Cain would come soon to take her away, back to the world of light and tears would not do. D.G. is the only one who sees her cry.

"Okay. Just calm down and tell me why. Was it something I said?"

"No. It's just…" Azkadellia steeled herself. "I can't face him. Not him, D.G. He hates me. They all do." Azkadellia searched her sister's face for the understanding she knew would be there.

"I don't hate you," a soft voice spoke from the doorway.

Az froze in her sisters arms, turning stiffly to face the speaker who stood respectfully in the doorway. Her eyes were wide with disbelief at his quiet claim. His eyes were downcast as though abashed at intruding upon the sisters' private scene. So much like the old advisor she remembered before...

"LIAR!" Suddenly, Azkadellia wrenched free from her sister's comforting grasp and ran at him.

Distantly, she heard D.G. call her name. "Strike me, Ambrose!" She threw a sloppy punch at him but he easily stepped out of its way. "Curse me! Take your vengeance!" The second time he caught her wrist as she made to strike at him and she sagged defeated against his chest.

"Why?" came her pain-filled whisper.

"Because I don't hate you, Azkadellia."

"I tortured you!" She sobbed. I stole your life, your memories from you! Why don't you hate me?!"

He tilted her face so that she was looking into his eyes. "That wasn't you, Azkadellia. If you had truly meant to do those things, would you be regretting it now?"

Azkadellia stared into his soft, kind eyes, startled by the intense honesty she saw there and she trembled realizing that he was the only thing holding her up at the moment.

D.G echoed his sentiment. "No one hates you, Az. We're worried about you. You're trying so hard to be strong but you don't always have to be. You're a victim of that evil witch as much as anyone else is!"

Glitch graced her with one of his easy grins and she felt something set free within her. Azkadellia threw her arms around him desperately. "I'm so sorry, Ambrose. Please forgive me."

"You're not to blame so no more tears little one."

She smiles down at the flowers and then

She's sad for all those years now gone

Mingled with memory

Tears of laughter sharing hero's fanfare

Hidden away behind walls

Living on in candlelight.