Hurricane Drunk

Disclaimer: I do not own Tinman

I was inspired by a Florence+the machine song of the same title and had to write something. It is a little sketchy in places and I know the grammar is off but just take it on an overall scale and enjoy!

Italics are flashbacks.

Terriah

Cain was ready. He fastened the last button of his shirt and looked up at himself in the mirror.

"I think I look stupid," he said, turning back around to face her. DG bit her lip to stop from giggling and raised a hand to gesture at his apparel.

"I think your dress robes are lovely," she said trying to straighten out her face, "Very chic." He grumbled and turned back to the mirror, trying to knot his tie correctly. Seconds later, he felt a hand on his back and a chin on his shoulder. DG pressed herself up against his back and stepped on the tips of her toes to reach his ear.

"I'm proud to be presenting you as my Protector and I don't care how silly you look." She lent in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before moving away. Cain felt the tension leave his body and smiled at his reflection.

"So I do look ridiculous."

Cain turned from the mirror but the room was empty. He was alone. He briefly looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. "Up and at 'em cowboy," he muttered to himself, grabbing his trusted leather coat from the bed. Braced as if for a storm, he left his room.

The celebrations were already in full swing when Cain slipped unnoticed into the ballroom. The Gales' triumphant return to the throne was now in it's third year and the anniversary was a much-anticipated event. Cain automatically scanned the room.

There she was. Resplendent in red silk, surrounded by admirers and friends. He felt as if his heart had stopped beating. She was so very beautiful tonight.

He strode towards her and she beamed at him, rising quickly. "A dance Princess?" he asked innocently offering her his hand. DG practically snatched it and dragged him out onto the dance floor. "God," she whispered taking up his other hand and placing it on her waist, "I thought you were never coming to rescue me." She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "Was that punishment for yesterday," she demanded. Cain tried to look aloof, "I have no idea to what you refer. But I would imagine social torture would be an excellent revenge for getting us chased by spear wielding tribesmen." He concluded this with a smile and DG laughed gently. "I merely felt," she explained, "That it wasn't necessary for me to try any eyeball soup." Cain snorted, "It was a holy dish!" DG rolled her eyes and lent into his chest, pressing herself against him. He sighed and manoeuvred her delicately away. "Later," he murmured.

Cain unfroze himself in time to nod at the ambassador for somewhere or other and looked for someone to stand with. He sidled up to Glitch, who watched the activities before him, with vague bewildered amusement. "What a lovely evening," the advisor was saying to himself and Cain forced a smile.

"Hello Zipperhead." The advisor inclined his head towards Cain, his eyes never leaving the throng. "They will announce it tonight you know?" Glitch gestured toward the crowd that surrounded the youngest Gale. Cain felt numb but he somehow managed to nod along, to show some sign of acknowledgement. "It is a good a match," Glitch continued, "At least so they tell me." He smiled indulgently at himself almost before turning to Cain. For a moment, what was left of Ambrose took over and he reached out to place a hand on Cain's arm. "It is," Glitch said gently, "For the best." Cain looked at the hand and then at the own, somehow managing a stiff smile.

"I don't think I can watch much more," the Tinman voiced hesitantly, the words cracked. Glitch nodded gently and Cain moved away. He grabbed a glass of a passing footman and downed it quickly before spinning on his heel and marching doggedly away.

He was halfway down one of the servants corridors when a voice called out to him, "Leaving so soon Mr Cain?" He spun round and saw DG waiting in a doorway a little to his left. Every sense in his body soared at her mischievous smile and when she beckoned him into the small room, he felt a deep-seated longing course through his muscles. He growled and stormed into the room after her, slamming the door shut without even a backward glance. Within seconds he was upon her and their mouths met in an angry wave of passion. He had up against the wall and writhed against him, scraping at his back with her fingernails. Cain pulled away from her lips to trail searing kisses down her jawbone and she moaned against him. Cain felt heat flare up in his trousers and he pulled away, knowing she'd felt it too. DG was staring up at him, wide eyed yet ready. Cain lowered his head so that their foreheads might meet. "Not here Deeg," he whispered, "Not us in some cupboard." She smiled and tilted her head so that she might place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Alright," she replied.

No one stopped him as he strode up the stairs towards his rooms. Everyone was in the ballroom awaiting the announcement of the engagement of his princess. He wrenched open the door and slammed it shut behind him, only to find himself confronted with memories once more.

They lay together on his bed, their bodies still entwined and the covers pushed back in an attempt to cool down. DG was running a finger along his chest, her face turned in against his chest. He eyes were heavy with sleep and he felt so content. Carefully, he shifted his weight until he was on his side and pulled DG to him.

The bed was empty now and had been for days. Cain couldn't bring himself to sleep in it when it still smelt of her. He tilted back his head and banged it against the door. He was stronger than this. Forcibly pushing himself off the door he crossed the room to a small table laden with bottles.

"Engaged?" Cain said slowly, sinking into a chair, "Who?" DG brushed away the free flowing tears with the back of her hand and shrugged.

"It's not formalised yet," she said hoarsely, voice tired from crying, "But it's imminent." Cain looked up at her, his eyes bright.

"Kid," he began quickly, "If you want me to ask I will. I'll go to you parents now." She shook her head fiercely.

"It would never work, Wyatt. We need this alliance." Cain stood up angrily, fists clenched and hissed,

"So you're just going to let this happen?" DG bowed her head.

'I don't have a choice."

Cain knocked back the amber liquid and slammed the glass on the dresser. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, one hand on the wall. More slowly, he reached for the bottle and poured himself another, continuing to lean against the wall.

The door to his room creaked softly open, and someone stepped in, a click as the door closed on the latch.

'Whatya doing here kid?" Cain asked, unmoving, knowing immediately who it was. There was a pause as she stepped toward him before very simply,

"Looking for you." He snorted and took another swig from the glass.

"Well tough luck, princess," he said twisting his head to look at her, "Cause I don't want to be found."

She walked slowly towards him and took the glass from his hands. She was pale, he noticed, despite the rouge and but there was a determination in her soft eyes. The silk of her dress rustled as she wrapped her arms briefly around his waist.

"If I had a choice," she whispered, taking a moment to remember his scent, "It would always be you." Before swiftly removing her arms and leaving the room.

Cain didn't move. He was in the grip of a hurricane. He wanted to run after, take her in his arms and claim her for his. But he couldn't. She had her duty. Shaking himself slightly, Cain quickly made a decision. He had to leave. He couldn't watch her marry someone else.

Outside in the corridor, DG stopped in her tracks and fell against the wall. Her heart was thudding against her chest and she was gasping for her air, her lungs ready to explode. "I can't do this," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Cain slung his pack onto the back of a horse and put a foot in the stirrup.

"Bring enough food for two?" a voice called to him. Cain almost fell in surprise. DG stood behind him at the entrance to the stable, her hair plaster to head and water dripping from her eyelashes, as if she had chased straight after him and into the rainy night. In a few swift movements he had abandoned the horse and strode toward her, sweeping her small body into his arms and claiming her mouth with his.

The End.