Disclaimer: I do not own Tin Man or its characters and receive no profit from this story.

It's six months till the wedding.

DG is lying on her bed, and Cain stands a few feet away.

She purses her lips, folds her arms. "Apparently here in the O.Z., it's perfectly acceptable to arrange a marriage between two six-year-olds." She rolls a frustrated glance at Cain, but he casts his gaze to the brocaded carpet. "What, Mister talkative doesn't have anything to say?" she teases.

"It's what's best for the O.Z., Majesty," he says evenly.

Majesty. That's what he calls her when he's trying to distance himself. "How is forcing someone into an arranged marriage 'what's best for the O.Z.'?" she demands.

"Order needs to be restored." Cain meets her gaze. "Nothing else is important."

She bites her lip. "Nothing?" she whispers.

Cain drops his gaze silently.

DG, as his sovereign, could command him to answer, but she's vowed never to do that, not to him. Instead, she turns over and presses her face to the cold silk pillow.

It's four months till the wedding.

The intended, Duke Adalrix of the Land of Nox in the South, is like a fairytale prince in every way. He's handsome, polite, gentlemanly. Fake.

Cain, as DG's personal bodyguard, escorts them on their prearranged horseback rides through the woods. It's freezing, and DG's corset is too tight, and riding sidesaddle isn't really riding. She wishes she had her bike, which they've already retreived from the other side, but Ambrose (the part of him that isn't Glitch) has it hidden away somewhere, insisting it's too dangerous for a princess.

DG doesn't want to be a princess. She just wants to be DG.

The duke is complimenting her riding, and she knows it's a pleasant lie, but she smiles politely, thanks him.

She chances a glance at Cain, and for a moment she thinks he looks almost sad, but then his patented Tin Man emotional mask drops into place, and all she can see is his breath on the air.

When DG's horse bites the Duke's leg, she snatches up the reins and tries not to wonder if the animal understands the situation perfectly.

It's two months till the wedding.

DG hates to call it hers, because it feels like it must be someone else's, but they've started asking her about her flower preferences, and at the moment they're making adjustments to her dress and the fact that she's getting married is growing harder and harder to ignore.

Cain is ever-present, but they've long stopped talking about anything but official business. He watches her the same way he always has, protectiveness and something beneath it that she can never quite make out, but he won't meet her gaze.

The palace tailor asks if the bodice of her dress is tight enough. She's tempted to retort that it's been too tight since the first time they forced her to put it on, but she simply nods politely, and he moves on to the sleeves.

It's three weeks till the wedding.

"I can't take this anymore," DG says, storming into Cain's quarters.

His lips tighten to a thin line.

"I can't marry him, Cain. I don't even like him."

He averts his eyes.

"Say something," she begs. "Please."

He snaps. "What do you want me to say?" His eyes are fire-and-ice, and she's shocked at their intensity. "You want me to say I don't want to see you married to Pretty Boy? Fine. I don't. But that's not my call, Princess."

DG blinks. "No," she says. Spinning on her heel and striding toward the door, she yells over her shoulder:

"It's mine."

It's two weeks and three days till the wedding.

The four of them are alone in the room—DG, her mother, her father, and Duke Adalrix—when DG informs them she's breaking the engagement.

After a moment, the duke nods slowly. Then he stands, bows politely, thanks Her Majesty for time well spent, and he excuses himself.

He seems almost… relieved. Perhaps he isn't as fake as she thought.

Her parents are a different story. "DG, Angel, why are you doing this?" Lavender asks, bewildered.

DG tells them. For a moment her parents just look at each other, conferring with their eyes. Then Father laughs and kisses Mother's hair, and Mother smiles warmly.

DG wastes no time.

"I'm not marrying him," she tells Cain, barging into his room again.

Cain stands up in shock.

"Dad wasn't royalty. My parents got married because they were in love."

He stares at her, confused.

Time to see if the proverbial limb will hold her weight. "I told them I'm already in love with someone. You."

For a long moment, Cain looks hopeful, but then he shakes it off. "You can't do this, DG."

"Do what? Tell the truth?" It seems the limb is cracking underneath her.

"You're young, kiddo," he says. He looks defeated, like he really believes what he's saying. "And I'm an old man."

Her blue eyes flash. "Dammit, Cain, I'm not a kid!"

Cain looks at her. "No," he admits. "No, you're not." Then he stops. "I notice you didn't argue about the 'old man' part."

For a few seconds, they just look at each other seriously, but then DG laughs and so does Cain, and he pulls her tight into his arms.

When he leans back to look at her, for a moment, she swears she sees tears shining in his eyes. Then he kisses her, and she forgets about everything else.

It's one hour till the wedding.

DG's maidservants are lacing her into her wedding gown, and she's asked the tailor to let out the bodice but somehow she still can't breathe properly. "Calm down, Majesty," Audra says, "You'll do fine."

"I'm not nervous."

Maggie shoots her a skeptical look.

"Okay, maybe a little." DG sighs. "A lot."

Audra tells her to sit down, and Maggie slips on the ruby slippers that have been passed down from the first Dorothy Gale.

This feels like someone else's wedding, but this time, not because she's dreading it.

It's time.

DG can barely breathe. She's at the gate in the railing around the balcony, and all eyes are on her. She catches Az's gaze, and her sister nods encouragement.

DG closes her eyes, opens the gate, and steps out into the air. She hears the crowd gasp, and when she opens her eyes, she's floating. This was how her mother had made her entrance, and her grandmother before her. She floats down over the crowd to the center of the room, almost to the floor, and there he is, her Mister Cain.

The minister nods to him, and he reaches out a trembling hand and pops the pink bubble around her. She giggles, dropping the few remaining inches to the marble floor. His skin is bathed in golden light—her mother and Az's magic, no doubt—and his crystal eyes are painfully blue, bluer than Finaqua, but that's all natural.

The minister gives an introduction, as is the custom. Then he reads the ancient vows, and Cain and DG repeat them in unison. The minister tells them to clasp their left hands together. He wraps a strand of cool molten gold around their joined hands, and it flows and twists through, finally settling on their ring fingers.

"I now pronounce you Princess and Prince Consort Dorothy Gale of the Kingdom of the Outer Zone. You may kiss the—"

His lips are on hers before the minister finishes his sentence.

And when everyone laughs and cheers, DG knows what's best for restoring order to the O.Z.:

The Tin Man and the Princess, the commoner and the noble, united.

Wyatt Cain and Dorothy Gale, together.

fini

A/N: I do believe this is the first Tin Man fic of 2008, at least for my time zone. Happy New year, everyone! And thanks for reading! I'll reply to every review, praise and constructive criticism alike.