Title: For You
Fandom: L. Frank Baum’s Oz series
Summary: While no one in Oz has to age, Dorothy and Ozma find they have a reason to grow up.
Beta Reader: Nzomniac
Word Count: 1306
Warnings: Shoujo-ai/femslash. This is not graphic but if you have fond childhood memories of a chaste Dorothy and Ozma you might wish to avoid it.
Author's Note: Written for yuri_challenge prompt: Young, "In this land where we stay young forever, I want to group up a little, just for you." This story is also being used for100_women prompt #055: Friends. (click here to see my 100_women progress chart) and 12_stories prompt #04: Green (click here to view my 12_stories progress chart.)
It was Aunt Em who first noticed when she and Uncle Henry had just returned from an extended holiday by the seashores of Ev.
“Why, Dorothy Gale,” Aunt Em cried when the girl rushed to greet them. “I scarcely recognized you. You’ve grown into quite the young lady.”
“But Aunt Em,” Dorothy protested. “That can’t be. Oz is a fairy land; no one here ever grows up or gets any older. That just doesn’t happen here.”
“Fairy land or not, I’d say it has happened. Why, I can show you.”
Aunt Em opened the locket she wore around her neck. There was a picture inside of the three of them--Dorothy, Aunt Em and Uncle Henry.
“This was taken right when we first came to Oz,” Aunt Em said. “Henry and I don’t look a day older, but look at yourself here, then take a look in the mirror.”
Dorothy wasn’t the sort of girl who spent a great deal of time gazing at herself in the mirror. Usually she paid them little mind, but now she scrutinized herself at length, comparing the photo in Aunt Em’s locket to her reflection. There was no denying it; she had grown. The photo was of a little girl but in the mirror was a young woman.
“I’d better ask Ozma about this,” Dorothy said resolutely. “She’ll know what’s going on. Maybe I’m under some kind of a spell?”
“Oh, I do hope it’s nothing like that,” Aunt Em said in alarm. “You’d best talk to her right away.”
Dorothy ran to the throne room only to find it empty except for the Glass Cat that was napping on the royal throne.
“You naughty thing,” Dorothy cried. “You ought not to be sleeping there.”
“Why not?” asked the Glass Cat with a yawn. “No one else is using it. The royal court’s been adjourned for the day. If you’re looking for Princess Ozma, she’s in her chambers, or did you come by to admire me?”
“I couldn’t very well come by to admire you when you’re where you shouldn’t be.”
“This throne does set me off very nicely, I think. Rather like the proper setting for a lovely jewel.”
“Oh, you’re full of yourself as always,” Dorothy laughed. “I’m going to find Ozma, and you’d better stay off her throne. Say, since when do you sleep?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I took it up a while ago; I wanted to see what dreaming was like. If that inferior Purple Kitten can do it, I figured I ought to be able to do it much better with my fine brains. Now I have first rate dreams. Want to hear one?”
“Maybe a little later,” Dorothy said hastily. “I’ve got to find Ozma now.”
“Your loss,” the Glass Cat said with a shrug, making himself comfortable on the throne as Dorothy rushed off.
Her chat with the Glass Cat had only added to Dorothy’s confusion. Was that how things worked in Oz? Could a creature that had never needed sleep suddenly decide to take up dreaming as a pastime? Is that why I’ve grown? Dorothy wondered. She’d lived in Oz for many years, but there was so much she didn’t know or understand about how things worked. Puzzled, she ran all the way to Ozma’s chambers and burst in quite out of breath.
In most palaces, this would have been considered a terrible breach of etiquette, but Ozma wasn’t the sort of ruler who liked to be treated like a sacred relic though her subjects would have been only too happy to do so. Ozma’s palace was like a bustling neighborhood where anyone was welcome to drop in unannounced.
“Oh, Ozma,” Dorothy blurted out, “I’ve got so many questions. Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are back and Aunt Em says I’m growing up and the Glass Cat has dreams when he never even used to sleep.” Then Dorothy looked at Ozma, really looked at her. She was lovely as ever in her diaphanous gown of palest green, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, but she too was different. Through the sheer gown, Dorothy could glimpse the enticing curves of her body, the swell of her white bosom. “Why, now that I’m looking at you, I can see that you’ve been growing too!” Dorothy cried in both surprise and delight. “You’ve gotten as big as I have though you used to be just as small. Do tell me what’s happening, Ozma. Is it some sort of magic?”
“An ordinary sort of magic,” Ozma said with a smile.
“But I always thought that in Oz no one ever had to grow up or grow old or die.”
“No one has to do any of those things,” Ozma told her gently. “But if a person wants something and truly wishes for it, their wish will be granted. Most babies choose to grow because they want to be able to do things on their own, to play and explore. Many children have something they want to do--to live on their own, to get married and have children, to work at some job--so they grow up. Sometimes they get tired and then they grow old to rest and there are even a few people who choose to die.”
“But why would anyone want to die?” Dorothy asked.
“They want to make the next step; they want to know what happens next.”
“It’s all a matter of wanting then?” Dorothy asked, puzzling over Ozma’s words. “I can see the Glass Cat wanting to dream just to prove he can do whatever other cats can and better, but why would you and I want to grow up? I’m perfectly content with things as they are. I don’t want to get married or have children. I don’t want to do anything but live here in Oz with you and all our friends and have adventures.”
Ozma rested her dainty white hand on her friend’s.
“There are adventures that are suitable for young women, but not for little girls,” she said with a knowing smile. Dorothy blushed quite red.
“I guess there are,” she admitted. “I mean, Jellia Jamb’s told me about some of the stuff she’s done with boys, and I guess I have thought about how it might be nice to, well, try some of those things, with the right person”
“With the right person,” Ozma agreed.
“I guess you’ve been thinking about it, too,” Dorothy giggled. “Or else you wouldn’t have gotten older yourself.”
“I have,” Ozma said.
“Sort of peculiar, that we should both be thinking about that kind of adventure, at the same time.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ozma said, entwining her fingers with Dorothy’s. “It makes perfect sense to me.”
The girl ruler of Oz, who was now as much a woman as a girl, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the lips of her dearest friend. Dorothy welcomes the soft, sweet kiss. They had kissed before, but this was different. She parted her lips, and Ozma’s velvety tongue twirled deliciously in her mouth, forming a heavenly new word.
“Oh, Ozma,” Dorothy admitted, “it was you I grew up for, to be with you, to be closer to you, even closer than we’ve been.”
“And I grew up for you, Dorothy Gale,” Ozma whispered, taking another kiss. Through the gossamer fabric of Ozma’s gown, Dorothy caressed the other girl’s tender, white breasts. Ozma gasped in pleasure and held Dorothy tight, stroking her golden hair.
Gently, Dorothy moved to the bed and with reverent care laid Ozma on the emerald green sheet. Ozma stretched out her arms in welcome, drawing Dorothy down on top of her. And so they passed the afternoon, embracing and exploring, knowing they would have all the time they needed for their new adventure.