Ficlet, Tin Man: Color, Feather, Grass
Apr. 27th, 2019 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amediaTitle: Color, Feather, Grass
Pairing: None
Characters: DG, Glitch, a guest
Author's note: Inspired by a ficlet request fromlionille for a gen story using the words "color, feather, and grass." Nillie's request made me think of a beautiful photo I saw on FB:
Glitch found DG sitting on the grass in one of the royal gardens, her arms around her knees and her head down. She was staring at a feather that she kept twirling in one hand.
Glitch crouched down next to her. "Hey, doll," he said, and waited quietly.
Finally, DG turned a tearstained face toward him. "Hey, Glitch," she said. He waited some more, but that was all she said.
"That's a pretty feather," he said finally.
"It is. I saw a poster of a bird with feathers like these in my science book once. A European turtle dove. I think. I don't know how it got here." She sniffled. "I hated science class. But now, something reminds me of it, and ..." She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "I miss hating it. Does that even make sense? I used to ride my motorcycle past the high school every day on my way to work and flip it the finger, I was so glad not to be there anymore.
"Everything here is so beautiful ... but it's all so strange. Some things feel familiar, but most things don't. I don't even feel like the same person anymore."
Glitch reached out tentatively and rubbed circles lightly on her back. He didn't know what to say. He looked at the feather again, and then leaned forward to examine it more closely. "Where did you find this, DG?"
"Over there." She pointed to a nearby flowering bush. "Why?"
"European turtle doves aren't native to the O.Z.," said Glitch, who had risen to his feet and was now walking very quietly over to the bush. "We only see them when--" He suddenly darted forward, thrusting his hand into the bush, and pulled it back a moment later, a bird cradled gently but firmly in his grasp. "When Ozma shows up."
The bird squawked indignantly. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," said Glitch. He set the bird down and backed away. DG watched curiously, her tears forgotten, as the bird transformed into a beautiful, elderly woman with short white hair, bedecked in a gown of the same colors as the bird. Glitch put a hand over his heart and bowed. "Princess Ozma," he said. DG recognized the name from the histories she had been studying, and gulped as she realized that she was in the presence of one of the greatest rulers of the Olden O.Z. Then, to her astonishment, the princess ignored Glitch and held out her hand to DG.
It didn't seem like an invitation one could turn down without being dreadfully rude to a tremendously important person. DG scrambled to her feet and accepted Ozma's hand. As she did, she felt waves of comfort wash over her. She felt thoroughly loved and understood, as if Ozma herself had undergone at least as great a transformation as DG had, and had learned to live with it, to grow from it, and to find joy. She still felt the ache of homesickness, but it hurt just a tiny bit less.
DG finally dared to look up and meet Ozma's beautiful iridescent eyes. She had a thousand questions, starting with, why was Ozma here? Presumably for some important matter of state, but it was wonderful of her to stop on the way to help DG.
Princess Ozma smiled at her. "No, dear, I'm actually here to see you," she said, as if she were reading DG's mind. "I was very fond of the original Dorothy Gale, and when I felt her namesake's sorrow, I had to come. I was going to observe the situation just a little bit longer before revealing myself, but someone didn't give me that luxury." She glared at Glitch. Glitch shrugged and gave his most charming embarrassed grin, and after a moment, Ozma smiled back.
Then, heedless of her gown, Ozma plunked herself down on the grass, pulling DG down with her, and gestured at Glitch to sit down, too. "Let's talk," Ozma said. "I have the feeling that I have a lot of catching up to do." She waved her hand and a tray of cookies and milk appeared on the ground in their midst. DG grinned to herself--such gatherings at the palace tended to center around wine and hors d'oeuvres, but cookies and milk spoke more of kindness and comfort--and home.
Pairing: None
Characters: DG, Glitch, a guest
Author's note: Inspired by a ficlet request from
lionille for a gen story using the words "color, feather, and grass." Nillie's request made me think of a beautiful photo I saw on FB:Glitch found DG sitting on the grass in one of the royal gardens, her arms around her knees and her head down. She was staring at a feather that she kept twirling in one hand.
Glitch crouched down next to her. "Hey, doll," he said, and waited quietly.
Finally, DG turned a tearstained face toward him. "Hey, Glitch," she said. He waited some more, but that was all she said.
"That's a pretty feather," he said finally.
"It is. I saw a poster of a bird with feathers like these in my science book once. A European turtle dove. I think. I don't know how it got here." She sniffled. "I hated science class. But now, something reminds me of it, and ..." She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "I miss hating it. Does that even make sense? I used to ride my motorcycle past the high school every day on my way to work and flip it the finger, I was so glad not to be there anymore.
"Everything here is so beautiful ... but it's all so strange. Some things feel familiar, but most things don't. I don't even feel like the same person anymore."
Glitch reached out tentatively and rubbed circles lightly on her back. He didn't know what to say. He looked at the feather again, and then leaned forward to examine it more closely. "Where did you find this, DG?"
"Over there." She pointed to a nearby flowering bush. "Why?"
"European turtle doves aren't native to the O.Z.," said Glitch, who had risen to his feet and was now walking very quietly over to the bush. "We only see them when--" He suddenly darted forward, thrusting his hand into the bush, and pulled it back a moment later, a bird cradled gently but firmly in his grasp. "When Ozma shows up."
The bird squawked indignantly. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," said Glitch. He set the bird down and backed away. DG watched curiously, her tears forgotten, as the bird transformed into a beautiful, elderly woman with short white hair, bedecked in a gown of the same colors as the bird. Glitch put a hand over his heart and bowed. "Princess Ozma," he said. DG recognized the name from the histories she had been studying, and gulped as she realized that she was in the presence of one of the greatest rulers of the Olden O.Z. Then, to her astonishment, the princess ignored Glitch and held out her hand to DG.
It didn't seem like an invitation one could turn down without being dreadfully rude to a tremendously important person. DG scrambled to her feet and accepted Ozma's hand. As she did, she felt waves of comfort wash over her. She felt thoroughly loved and understood, as if Ozma herself had undergone at least as great a transformation as DG had, and had learned to live with it, to grow from it, and to find joy. She still felt the ache of homesickness, but it hurt just a tiny bit less.
DG finally dared to look up and meet Ozma's beautiful iridescent eyes. She had a thousand questions, starting with, why was Ozma here? Presumably for some important matter of state, but it was wonderful of her to stop on the way to help DG.
Princess Ozma smiled at her. "No, dear, I'm actually here to see you," she said, as if she were reading DG's mind. "I was very fond of the original Dorothy Gale, and when I felt her namesake's sorrow, I had to come. I was going to observe the situation just a little bit longer before revealing myself, but someone didn't give me that luxury." She glared at Glitch. Glitch shrugged and gave his most charming embarrassed grin, and after a moment, Ozma smiled back.
Then, heedless of her gown, Ozma plunked herself down on the grass, pulling DG down with her, and gestured at Glitch to sit down, too. "Let's talk," Ozma said. "I have the feeling that I have a lot of catching up to do." She waved her hand and a tray of cookies and milk appeared on the ground in their midst. DG grinned to herself--such gatherings at the palace tended to center around wine and hors d'oeuvres, but cookies and milk spoke more of kindness and comfort--and home.
