Length: 460 Words
Characters:/Ship Galinda (Lavender Eyes)/Ahamo
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Long-Mitchell and Van Sickle, as does their Outer Zone. The universe was based on a book from L. F. Baum
Being a prisoner sucked, even if it was in a palace. At least he wasn't losing his head or anything, and being a "Slipper," he warranted at least some decent treatment and curiosity.
Still, being a prisoner sucked.
He couldn't get Galinda out of his mind, though. That's why he hadn't escaped yet. The idea that he wouldn't see her again depressed him more than a cage did, and it puzzled him. It wasn't like he was some teenager, or that he hadn't shaken a few VW vans and travel trailers in his quest to see the world. Besides, she was way out of his league. He was a ex-junkie who'd been kicked out of the Army and had been slumming as a carny six months ago. She was the freaking princess of the realm – the only daughter of the Queen and heir to the throne.
Yet, Galinda was also the one nice enough to smuggle a set of charcoal pencils and a sketchbook under the door. She also would come in the middle of the night and sit by the door as they talked for hours. She told him all about Oz, he told her about Nebraska. She even gave him the pet name "Ahamo," reversing his carnival handle.
He chewed on the pencil. Galinda deserved a love poem. Hell, she deserved a whole ream. Thing is, he couldn't write the stuff to save his life.
So, he drew. He drew the view outside his window. He drew Galinda's face. He drew the fantastic things of Oz that she described in her stories and slipped them to her under the door as gifts during her nightly visits.
On his last sheet of paper, he drew a picture of himself and of her. The content was clearly erotic, their nude bodies standing in an embrace while his hand raked through her hair. It was a vision that he would see in his dreams after Galinda had excused herself and he lay in bed alone.
It was almost two weeks between the time he drew it and the night he was brave enough to slide it under the door. He heard the crinkling of the paper and didn't dare breathe. Moments later, the door opened, and she stood before him, looking like an angel in her white gown.
"You are free to leave. I can take you past the guards."
Oh, crap. "Galinda...Your Highness..."
She cupped his cheek with her hand. "I've no right to keep you, and neither does mother."
"I don't want to leave," he whispered. "Galinda...I love you."
She looked up at him with those amethyst eyes and smiled. "And if I run away with you, my love?"
He grinned. "You lead. I follow."