I don't own the world of Buffy or the world of Oz they are each owned by their respected owners and they are all pointed out in the first chapter. This chapter has Genry meeting a young woman named Melena and he offers her a drink or his green elixir.
Rush Margins, Munchkinland, Oz
The morning broke through but the fog and crisp air held the sun back as much as it could for the early hours. Through the light fog the rays of light that would escape through, made a small cottage visible. The cottage wasn’t really anything special for it resembled many of the homes in this part of Rush Margins. But if you wanted to prove that all the houses were truly alike then you would have to take the path in front of the short wooden fence either way and then walk a mile to next house to compare it and you’d repeat the same pattern again and again with all of the homes. You see this section of Rush Margins belonged to those that worked in the fishing community or that had small farms and if by some act of god so did a Unionist Minister by the name of Frexpar and his new wife Melena Thropp the Second Descending of Nest Hardings.
They had been married barely less than a month and she had spent the majority of that time alone waiting on her husband to come home from preaching and converting his fellow men in town. Two days at home and three more out in town preaching to the community, Frex, as his wife would call him, was a very busy man. All that the young woman would look forward were the days that Frex would come home; on those days the religious man would release his frustrations in bed which, Melena, would look forward to. But Melena would grow bored after two weeks and Frex would begin to gain control of the dark pleasure that he would seek with his wife. And every time Frex would leave her after that honeymoon phase, Melena would question herself on her choice of marriage.
Melena, daughter of the Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland, could have chosen from a long list of appropriate suitors her father had compiled. But she didn’t, because she chose the mysterious and handsome preacher from Rush Margins. And she fell for him and at the moment and every time Frex would leave her alone she questioned her decision of choosing the minister who had come from a long line of ministers. She’d stay awake pondering if indeed she married him out of love or because she fell in love with a ticket away from her father so she could live independently. Or maybe it was the sex. Sleeping with Frexpar was adventurous and daring. The man, for being a minister, who followed the Unionists strict codes to become one with the unnamed god was a real beast in bed. So there could be that, or maybe it was that she thought that she could live without the materialistic things that were given to her since birth by her father.
Today on this dark damp day Melena had gotten out of bed and walked around the small home and when she entered the kitchen she thought against making herself breakfast. Since it was only her, as it had been for the last two days, she grabbed a bottle of wine she had brought from her old home and decided to put on her cloak and sit out in the porch to look at the paths two directions to see if she could spot any travelers she could make small talk with.
Walking out of the small home she sat on the wooden bench standing close to the right of the door. Frex had built that bench for her to sit out in the small cottage’s porch to look out into the forest that stood across the path to maybe read in the daytime or talk to passerby’s or neighbors. She still couldn’t really understand why Frex would really think that she would willingly talk to any of the lower class neighbors from Rush Margins. She wasn’t raised to live in these conditions; in these swamps. No, she was raised in an Estate, filled with servants and cooks to take care of any of her needs. Leaning her head back with a thump onto the wall behind her, enjoying the small throb it rippled into her skull, with eyes shut. She opened her eyes hopping that maybe her marriage was all a dream, that she was actually married to a prince from the west or maybe a wealthy gentleman from the north; Munchkinland or Gillikin, where she would be pampered and wait upon. But unfortunately she was still here in the southern Munchkin swamps, married, alone and a prisoner with nobody for miles to keep her warm in these cold grey days. A tear slowly escaped her cold hazel eyes and that was the only emotion that she could muster without loosing the control she still held on her pride and upbringing. Taking a swig of her bottle she closed her eyes again and prayed to Lurline and the Unnamed God to send anybody to walk pass her cottage. At the moment she would even speak to any of the gossiping women that seemed to make up almost half of the town.
No, she wouldn’t look down to them but hearing another person’s voice or maybe the touch of a man at the moment would be heaven sent. Yes she would accept the touch of another man gladly, she really never minded before. She wasn’t really a poster child for virtue and abstinence. She had Nanny to watch over her when since she was a child and the woman could really be a bit careless and easily distracted and once she discovered the opposite sex she really learned to use Nanny’s flaw to slip her eye and have her small rendezvous’. Nanny knew of her flings and every time she’d come back she would get an earful from her, which she really never listened to, and afterwards prodding for details from the woman. Oh how she’d wish for Nanny to have come with her to at least keep her company but at the time she paid no mind to the fact that being a minister’s wife would be lonely and poor.
Drat. These muddy roads are beginning to get on my nerves. It seemed that every step would have to be careful or else you’d end up with your foot deep in the earth. I should have brought that damn horse with me. What was I thinking to not think of bringing it out with me? Oh, that’s right, I was thinking about that governor’s daughter and how I could convince her to help me in my search. That and weather or not to use the contents in my green bottle on her if she doesn’t want my help. Those fucking bottles were what landed me here and I should have disposed of them a long time ago. But at times they do come in handy; well since that apothecary in Frottica told me what that liquid did.
It wasn’t a poison at least not all of the time. Most of the time if taken sip by sip then it’ll act as a stimulant and a bit of a relaxant. It mostly depends on how much is consumed. And the reason I almost died the day I arrived in Oz was because I had drank almost the whole bottle. It made my body go on overdrive which nearly burst my heart and brain from the adrenaline rush. Take enough to relax you and stimulate you and you can drag any secrets out of the best trained soldier. That Sorcier was a really crafty man, but an idiot for not warning me. I almost died because of him; when I get home he is going to be the second person I visit that will suffer at my hand.
Tapping my hand over my coat’s breast under pocket; I make sure that the bottle is safely tucked in. This is the only bottle that hadn’t been refilled in my stay in Oz, I was saving it for a special occasion and it seems that this could be the one. Well that and I finished the other bottles contents and since I still had this maybe it’ll be more powerful in an Ozian person. It’s midday by now and I’ve still yet to reach the fucking shacks in the hills. This woman had better know where that goddamn Tome is. I stop to look on out far about a fourth of a mile ahead is one of the shacks. Smiling to my self, I head out and look for the woman. With the sun peaking out a ray or two in this gray damp day begin to make me feel a bit giddy. Starting my walk through the path lain in between the wall of the forests and the short wooden fences that circle the homes. With the smile still plastered on I know that today will change everything and that book will come closer into my grasp.
Okay I’m drunk. Its midday and I’m sloshed and the tears that were threatening to fall out this morning converted to drunken giggles and I don’t care. What a great feeling to not care about being alone, without my husband at, without Nanny’s pestering about how mother and father react, about being a poor ministers wife who will have no importance in this town than just being the uptight, prissy princess. No one cares for me in this town and it just makes my life even funnier. Maybe I’ve lost my mind; maybe it’s the Munchkin Ale that I took out of the kitchen when my wine ran out, but for some reason I feel that maybe, just maybe I could end up alone and happy. Okay so that stopped the laughing, and anger and annoyance were the replacements. Looking down at the empty bottle of ale I picked it up and threw it out so that it would crash against the fence.
My shoulders slump and as I rise from the bench and walk towards the house to sulk in bed and maybe sleep off the rest of the day, when I see him.
Melena standing by the door frame, looks out to the left side of the path and sees a man walking; heading her way. Her eyes light up and she turns and looks at her reflection on the windows pane, which worked thanks to the suns ray’s steadily releasing a ray every other tick tock. Noticing that her hair was a little mussed she used her fingers to comb the hair into place, and also fixed her dress and left her cloak loosely tied which would lead anyone to get an eyeful of her low rise dress that exposed the v form in her breasts. Giving her reflection some approval she turned around and walked out to the fence to maybe talk to the person.
Genry walked out still feet getting tired and mood getting darker, hopping against all hope that the woman he spotted in the cottage a few yards away could actually be the daughter of the Governor. Genry stops for a second to control his mood and started up again getting closer to the shack. And the closer he got, he now noticed that the woman was now resting against the short wooden fence. He now got a perfect view of her and by looking at her he knew this woman was who he was looking for. This was the Thropp Second Descending. The smile reappeared and he finally stopped in front of her.
“Good day Miss. I’m looking for someone here and I was wondering if I could acquire your assistance.” Genry Started.
With a small hand on his arm she declared. “Well my Good Sir, you have my attention. And though I’m new her in town I believe I could direct.”
With a wider smile now he responded. “That would be appreciated Miss, you see I’m looking for someone here in Rush Margins and someone in town told me to look through this path. I’m looking for a woman I believe her name is Melena Thropp.”
Removing her hand she stepped back once and asked. “Why are you looking for her? And why all the trouble of walking out into the swamped hills on this cold day?
“I’m looking for her because my very future could be hanging from her hands.” Genry let in.
“And how does that work?” she asked confused.
“My name is Genry Arduenna of the Upper Uplands and well I’m hoping you could help me unlock some of the memories hidden in my mind, Miss Thropp.”
“What makes you think I’m her?”
“Well dear it seems that you didn’t really say other wise and the woman in the shack a mile back told me that you would be her. She said to look for the one who’s wearing her wealth on her person.”
“I’m sorry I can’t help you with anything I’m not a healer or apothecary. So whatever ailment you have, you can have it overlooked back where you came from.” She let out as she turned to walk back to the front door.
Grabbing her arm to stop her he tried again. “No I’ve been to healers and apothecaries but what I need is a book. A book that I’m hopeful could be in your father’s library.”
Back to look at Genry she says. “You came trekking from the Gillikins to Munchkinland to look for me to help you retrieve a book from my father’s library?”
“No, I didn’t trek here from Gillikin to Munchkinland. I was in the Quads on business and on my way up I decided to go through this country and when I acquiring a room I heard some gossipy bitty’s talking about you and I came here to ask for your help.” He tried to gain her trust.
“Those crones and the dimwitted fishermen ogres of a wife’s really make me angry. So you want my help you retrieve a book? Lets head inside and we’ll talk more about your favor.” She turns to walk back to the house and she motions for Genry to follow her.
Once inside she lights a couple of candles to light up the dark home and clears the table where they sit and begins to talk.
“What’s so special about this book, which has you looking for it?”
“Well about five years ago I had an accident and lost most of my memories as well as myself. And the only thing that I can remember is that I need this book. One of the healers in Wittica said something about me finding that book and if I do more of my memories will return.” He lied smoothly.
“Oh, well my relationship with my father isn’t really prosperous at the moment. But there could be a chance that I could maybe send a letter. And you said you were from Wittica then?” Melena offered.
“Yes, Miss Thropp, a family there welcomed me into their family after the accident and it gets pretty rough not knowing where you really come from or if I left something or someone behind.”
“Even with the family you have now you feel alone because you can feel that there is vacant piece in your chest that grows as time passes. I share your burden Master Arduenna.” She reached her hand towards him and rested it on his.
Looking at her gesture, he picks up his head looks her in the eye and from inside his coat pocket he pulls out the green bottle and uncorks it and takes a small sip and holds the bottle to Melena.
“Here go ahead take some. It numbs the heart and mind. This is what’s kept me going.”
Melena looks at the bottle and still a bit tipsy from the wine and ale, her judgment is cloudy and she stares at Genry in the eye when she takes the bottle from him, places it against her lips and takes a deep drink, before Genry grabs it back. Genry takes another small sip and corks the bottle and settles it on the table top.
“That wine was a bit strong. But I can feel it, my chest doesn’t hurt and my thoughts have quieted.’
“That’s the purpose of it, to take away the pain. So have you heard of the Grimoire Madam Thropp?”
“No.” she leans back on her chair head back staring at the ceiling. “My father made me study in the library since I was a young child, and since there was never any kids that passed whatever standards my father had for them to be my friends, I stayed in that library and read most if not all of the books there. So believe me when I say that I never saw a tome by that name.”
“Ah.” Slouching down on his chair in disappointment he closes his eye and all of the sudden he feels someone sitting on his lap. He opens an eye and there straddling him is the lady of the house.
“Master Genry, don’t fret too much over that book. There is a lot of tension working its way into your body.” She caresses his face with one hand and leans in to touch her lips to his. “You’re going to need someone to help you relief yourself, I can feel your stress moving south, kind sir, and what kind of host would I be if I don’t help you enjoy your stay here.” With that last word she closes the gap and kisses Genry.
The kiss starts fervent with want and need. A second after Genry’s shock passes he returns her kiss with equal need. Melena’s tongue traces Genry’s lips begging for entrance which open and soon their tongues begin their battle for dominance. Grinding her pelvis into Genry’s lap she can feel the bulge in his trousers come to life, soliciting a moan from him. Genry starts reaching to the back of Melena’s dress trying to undo the buttons with one hand while the other sneaks to her chest and begins to caress her breast. Melena lets out a moan and her head tilts back while Genry now has his mouth on her neck leaving a trail of wet kisses and with the buttons undone his cold hand sneaks in to touch warm flesh which produces another his from her. Adjusting to the coldness of his hand, she put her unused hand in between them and reached down to his trousers and with nimble fingers she undid the clasps on his trousers and sticks her hand in and finds her target. Melena begins to stroke his member and which makes Genry shudder. Pulling the top of her dress down, exposing a two decent sized breast that he begins to suckle and nip on. Leaving his member alone Melena moaning at the administrations Genry was busy with, she pulled his coat and shirt off, exposing a pale well toned chest. She started running her nails through his back and in a single jerk he lifted them off of the chair and led them to the bed. Not hearing the green bottle drop to the ground they continued their affair.
This night was the beginning of it all. Genry would remember this night, but Melena Thropp the Second Descending would not. All she would have left the next day to remember that night would be the flashes in her minds and that green bottle she would find under the table. Everything else about that traveler that passed by her house would be forgotten. Day’s later Frex would come home and Melena took him to bed to fight off her conscious on the affair.
The morning after Genry snuck out of the cottage taking his guilt with him. He arrived at the inn that he was staying in and picked up his valise set it on the bed and put his clothes in and took out the small wooden box that contained the empty green bottles and opened while reaching into his pocket for the bottle he had taken. When he didn’t find it he closed the lid and the valise and went into the washing room to clean himself a bit. And put on a different suit. With that finished he had his driver ready the horses’ and within the hour he was on his way to Gillikin. The other stops he had planed were axed, the only thing he needed was to see his fiancée, his love, his Grenavie. He wasn’t going to tell her of the affair, he wouldn’t be able to bear to see his beloved in that kind of pain. He now has about a months worth of travel to compose himself. Deep down he knew that no matter how composed or put together he became something kept nagging him in the back of his mind. Something is going to change. Genry closed his eyes and for the first time he hated himself.
Wittica, Gillikin, Oz
“Are you sure this document is real?”
“Yes, I was setting up the file for the trip to the Glikkus mines; when this file fell out. Everything in the Glikkus is slowly falling apart. There’s some danger to your fortune Master Grejor. But there is more danger of a revolt if this news gets out to any of the Animals and the activist. He did an excellent job in covering his involvement in all of this. And an even bigger job at obtaining the Animals to be put in force labor.” The short redhead man by the name of Ugajor said.
“All this time he was embezzling money and property from me. I offered him a home, a family and he just stabbed me in the back.” Grejor stands up and turns to his window walks to it and looks outside. His eyes catch his daughter sitting under a tree staring off to the path outside the gate of the Upland Estate as if waiting for someone to appear. His heart tightens and he makes a decision then and there. “We can’t have those Animals being set free, if that happens then everything will be lost. The Animals will unite and in an uproar trample us under their feet. Kill them. Send them into a mine’s and bury them there, or shoot them, stab them, it doesn’t matter how just get rid of them permanently. If any of the human workers protest shoot them on site and make them an example.” He walks to his door and grabs his coat and walks out with Ugajor following him. “I need to go into town, you take care of the Glikkus and you shall be rewarded Ugajor.” With a smile and bow he walks away and Grejor walks out of the house.