DG/Cain 100%, possibly some Az/Jeb or Az/Glitch later on but I don't know which one my muse is going to take me towards as this continues.

I can't make guarantees as to how fast I'm going to this one written and posted but I promise I won't leave it unfinished. But I'm armed with my Tin Man DVDs (and the downloaded version I bought from Amazon because I couldn't find either of my Tin Man DVD's, then found them both after I'd bought it again...) and my DG/Cain playlist so I'm all set to be inspired.

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In the days following the fall of the Witch, a number of decisions had to be made. Some were easy, like the decision to have the tower destroyed at Azkadellia's request. Others were a little trickier, such as the decision involving where the reunited Royal Family would relocate to preceding the tower's destruction. The decision, after much discussion, was eventually made to relocate them to the recently regained palace in Central City, so that they'd be visible to their people even if the new reinstated Royal Guard, comprised of Resistance Fighters, would ensure they were seen but untouched.

Another decision took place behind closed doors, in the private rooms of the youngest Princess. It was a painful decision; one she would question many times over the ensuing annuals but one she wasn't sure she could truly regret.

It started as a normal conversation; just a moment between friends who had been strangers, drawn together by circumstances beyond their control.

A Princess and her Tin Man.

A Tin Man and his Princess.

"What do you plan to do now, Mister Cain?" She didn't look at him, didn't take her gaze off the view of the OZ from her balcony. She sensed more than saw him come up beside her, his steps soundless but something inside her always aware of where he was.

"Not rightly sure, Princess." He didn't sigh, but she could somehow hear it in his voice. "There's a lot of work to do in the 'Zone. Longcoats to be tracked, word of what happened here needs to get 'round somehow."

"And you see it as your duty to make sure it does." It wasn't a question; she knew Cain was getting antsy about staying in one place and couldn't put it all down to his time spent in the Tin Suit. Ozma knew, she was getting antsy, too, but unlike her Tin Man, she didn't have the freedom to leave.

"Someone has to." He shrugged beside her, the movement catching the corner of her eye. "It doesn't have to be me."

Silence hung between them, but it wasn't the comfortable silence that they'd shared over the days before and after the double eclipse. Sensing the tension, DG turned towards him. After a short pause, almost as if needing it to steel himself, Cain turned to face her.

It took effort, but eventually, she was able to lift her gaze to his. She saw the conflict in his cool blue eyes, the beginnings of something she couldn't yet call love but one day, in another life, might have been able to. She was sure he could it reflected in hers, too, which only made it harder to say what she knew she had to.

Harder to let him go.

"I release you from your obligation to the Mystic Man, Wyatt Cain. You no longer need to stay at my side at all costs." As she spoke, she drew herself up to her full height, which admittedly wasn't much. Her shoulders went down and back, the line of her neck and spine straight. She clasped her hands in front of her, resting them over her abdomen. It was a stance she'd witnessed by her mother many a time and once she'd almost perfected. "You look surprised."

"I..." He licked his lips in an unconscious gesture, twisting the hat he held between his hands. "I told you when you went to face the Witch that it'd be the only time I wouldn't be there to help. I meant it, Princess, and it has nothing to do with a promise to the Mystic Man."

"I know." The softest of smiles curled her lips, her gaze sad as it remained locked with his. "As much as I want you to honour that, and as much as I want you to stay – and I really do, Cain, please don't think otherwise. But I can't do that to you. I can't –" She turned away, back to the view so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "It might not be a Tin Suit but it's still a trap, and I won't do that to you."

"DG." He took a half a step closer, all the movement he needed to bring them within one another's personal space. Barely an inch remained between them, inappropriate given their stations in life or at least it would have been annuals before, before the Sorceress had made such protocols obsolete. "It's not the same."

"Isn't it? There's a quote on the Other Side," she told him. "I don't know where it comes from but it goes something like a gilded cage is still a cage." She closed her eyes but did so too late to stop a tear from slipping beneath her eyelid. "You deserve more than that. You deserve better."

Cain was quiet for a long moment. She knew he wanted to deny it but he couldn't; they both knew he'd tire of life within the palace walls, that resentment would creep in slowly but surely if she denied him this taste of freedom he'd not had the chance at in annuals.

"What if... What if I don't want to leave you?" It was an honest question, an unguarded one from a usually guarded man. "What if I don't want to lose you?"

"You won't lose me. Ever. I'm still going to be here, or in Central City. I'm sure I'll be easily found if and when you want to." On an intake of breath, she turned back to face him, forgetting for a moment just how close they'd become. "I don't want you to feel duty-bound to stay with me. You had a life before me, one I'm responsible for being taken away from you. No." She lifted a hand to stall his protest, letting it rest on his chest above his beating heart. "I know; I was a child who didn't know any better. But the fact remains I let the Witch out; I let her possess my sister. I caused all of this, and it's my duty, my fate, to try and fix it. I can't go back and fix it all but I can try to heal the hurt it caused to the people and the land. You're one of those people, Cain. You deserve some healing time of your own."

"I'd say I'm healin' pretty well right here, Princess." He lifted his hand to cover hers, holding it in place.

She smiled at that but had to swallow to remove the lump in her throat before she could speak again, her gaze dropping to their hands rather than holding his. "You'd heal better out there, away from all of this. Spend some time with Jeb, get to know the man your son has become. You deserve that," she repeated quietly. "You deserve so much more than I'm able to give you."

Jeb was a weakness, and she knew it. Besides DG, his son was the one person Cain would do anything for. Their relationship was fragile at best, made more so by Jeb's keenness to get back out into the OZ, to spread the word to the other Fighters who'd become his family over the annuals Cain had missed. His son had been offered the role of Captain in the Royal Guard, and it was a position he told the Queen and Consort he would consider accepting if it could be put on hold for a while.

"DG." All he said was her name, reverently, brokenly. Her gaze darted up to his again, and she saw the anguish in them and knew he'd reached the same decision she had.

"I know." And she did. She knew as well as he did that there was something between them. Something had shifted when they'd said their farewells before the last battle, something that left them both a little off balance and on the edge of a precipice that was both terrifying and awe-inspiring all at the same time.

As tempted as she was to jump right into it, she knew they couldn't. The timing was wrong; he was still grieving for his wife, and she was still trying to remember her place in this strange new world. For anything to start between them and have a hope of lasting, they needed to find themselves first.

Cain shifted, his other arm lifting to settle at her waist, closing the small gap between them. He lowered his head, his forehead resting against hers as they shared a breath.

A goodbye.

"If you need me, you send for me, you hear?" His voice was ragged, torn from his throat. "I'll be here in a heartbeat."

"I know." She closed her eyes, emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

"It's not forever," he swore, gripping her tighter. "Our paths will cross again, and when they do, I'm not letting you go again."

She gave a pained smile at that. "And here I thought I was letting you go this time."

"Only this time."

How long they stood together, heads bowed, DG couldn't say. She only knew that it was a moment in time she wished her light could freeze them in, a parting of ways that wouldn't happen.

Eventually, he moved his head, his lifting from her waist to touched her cheek. At the sensation, she opened her eyes to look at him, seeing the promise in his before he closed the gap between them.

It was a soft kiss, the barest touch of his lips against hers. Gentle, unhurried. A bittersweet gesture that both hoped said everything they couldn't voice out loud. His hand tightened over hers against his chest for a moment, and then the pressure was gone as he released her and took a step back.

Knowing her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shining, DG could only watch him leave and pray to Ozma she'd done the right thing in letting him go.

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