Tin Man fanfic: When Wonderland Shatters (2/14)
Title: When Wonderland Shatters - 2 of 14
Author: Surreal
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, DG, Raw, Azkadellia, Queen, Ahamo, others
Genre: Adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17 (violence, m/m slash)
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to L. Frank Baum and the creative minds behind Tin Man. I do not claim to own anything.
Summary: Of all the indicators that their beautiful kingdom had gone to hell, it was the most simple of gestures that told those watching the moment they all had been utterly screwed.
Author Notes: An extension of the drabble of the same title written for avari_maethor, found here: When Wonderland Shatters.
Structured using the Fourteen Phrase prompt table on magic4mula: http://surranndie.livejournal.com/36587.html
Part 1
**
02. A picture's worth 1000 words
There were a lot of different ways Glitch could make Cain’s heart beat just a little faster; most of the time it was simply the act of walking into the same room the Tin Man was in.
The ceremonial sword swinging from Glitch’s hip as he approached the horse already loaded with supplies and waiting for him introduced a whole new, exciting level of heart pounding into Cain’s life.
The striking weapon was half tucked under the long, dark grey coat and its thin blade, sheathed in an elegantly embossed, pale leather scabbard, extended down the length of the former advisor’s leg and ended just past his knee.
Cain watched as Glitch hooked one foot into the stirrup and pushed up with the other leg, swinging himself gracefully onto his mount. He remembered a saying of his grandmother’s, that a picture’s worth one thousand words, but the imposing display of the Queen’s rightful advisor sitting atop a tall, powerful golden-haired horse with all the confidence accorded his station left Cain without any words at all.
“Ready to hit the road, Tin Man?” Glitch broke the other man’s stupor with a cheeky grin and gave his horse a gentle kick, sending him on his way.
Clearing his throat and finding his voice, Cain called out to the other man’s back. “Hey, Glitch? It’s this way.”
Glitch turned his horse around with a self-conscious chuckle. “Right, right, of course.” He matched strides with Cain, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword.
“So, Glitch,” Wyatt started conversationally. “What’s with the sword?”
“It was mine, though I suppose that it is mine again,” Glitch sat up proudly. “I found it tucked in the corner of my old wardrobe when I was looking for my travel coat.”
“Any particular reason you brought it with you?”
Glitch grinned and idly fingered the brass circling the handle. “I figured if I’m going to get the chance to refresh one old skill of mine, I might as well test out some others.”
“Well, if your sword skills are anything like your hand-to-hand combat skills, you might be on your own,” Cain pointed out apologetically. “I never learned to handle any kind of weapons besides firearms.”
Glitch cast a searching look in Cain’s direction. “If we’re really going to have some real time on our hands, would you have any interest in learning?”
“If it means spending more time with you?” Cain grinned at him affectionately.
“You are such a teenage girl,” Glitch laughed warmly. He looked away, watching the road in front of them wind through the deep burgundy branches of the Acer maples. “You know...you know...you know...”
Cain reached across and touched his arm, drawing him out of the cycle wordlessly. He received only a fleeting smile in return, long past the need for apologies or thanks.
“I was going to say, you know it’s only a matter of time before someone besides DG or Raw figures us out,” Glitch continued. “Not that it matters, of course. I only mention it because technically I am still an official of the monarchy and unless I make it clear at public events that I am courting someone, there’s no telling who the Queen might send my way.”
Coughing to cover his appalled retort to that image, Cain shook his head and straightened his back, putting on a stiff expression. “Well, then, it’s a good thing we’ll have some time alone to practice our proper civic behavior to avoid me having to defend your honor.”
“Indeed it is!”
**
Looking through the dust-streaked window above the makeshift desk they had pushed against one wall of the cabin, Cain watched as Glitch gracefully whirled and spun around the patches of wilted, dying grass in the front yard.
It was a mesmerizing display, one that Wyatt found his gaze drawn to every day since they had taken up temporary residence in the derelict cabin that he had once called home.
After several days of solid cleaning, rearranging, and burning of broken furniture beyond repair, the two men had settled into a daily routine. The mornings had seen Cain headed into the woods in search of fresh food, either in the form of small game, fish, or fruit from the trees just over the hillside. Some days Glitch would go with him, others he would stay home and work in his notebooks.
Organizing and decoding the stack of tattered books Glitch had packed along for the trip was a daunting task, one that both men took on in the days following the more urgent need to turn the domicile into something vaguely livable. When the notes became something approaching readable, Glitch settled himself into studying his own past.
It was the afternoons that reminded Cain of why he had made the decision to remove Glitch from the oppressive atmosphere of the Tower. He understood the reasons why the family had remained there, as the Central City home was still in shambles and the other mansions were too far from where they were needed in these early days of the renewed monarchy. But Cain could easily gage how deeply Glitch affected was by the constant reminders of his imprisonment and subsequent torture.
Clouds of dust drifting past the window pulled Cain from his thoughts. He watched as the twin glints of the fading daylight hitting both the long edge of the sword and the metal of Glitch’s zipper. The practice routine was winding down; Cain had learned the pattern of the moves, their elegant beauty not tarnished by repetition.
Cain timed his dinner preparations with the ending of Glitch’s session so that by the time Glitch was kicking the dirt from his boots outside the front door, the Tin Man was setting the small table with plates and cutlery.
“I think I’m starting to remember some of my training,” Glitch informed him brightly as he took his seat at the table.
“It looks like a lot more than that,” Cain frowned as he set out forks. “You’ve got a regular routine pretty well down.”
“That’s just muscle memory,” Glitch waved a hand, dismissing the praise. “No, what I really need to do is spar with someone so that I have to think and react. The tree isn’t giving me much useful feedback.”
Wyatt snorted and turned to pull the fish from the cast-iron oven. He had let the stones cool, only giving off enough heat to keep the meal warm while waiting for Glitch to come inside.
He never made it.
Finding himself on his hands and knees before he knew what had happened, Cain noticed first that what threw him off was that the room was suddenly thick with darkness. There was no light streaming through the window though there had been only a moment before.
Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the pitch black, he shifted around to search for Glitch. He heard the scraping of wood across the floor and spotted a blur of movement to his left. “Glitch? You all right?”
“I’m fine, chair tipped over,” Glitch’s voice drifted to him in the dark. “What’s going on?”
Cain shuffled across the floor toward the sound of the other man’s voice. “I don’t know, it came on too quick to be a storm.”
He had just gotten within arm’s reach when the floorboards began to shake, windows and doors shuddering in their frames. Cain dove forward, wrapping Glitch in a tight embrace and held on tight through the onslaught. The wood slats under them groaned in protest and there was a distant sound of cracking glass.
Just as suddenly as it began, the shaking abruptly stopped and the light returned. Momentarily blinded by the change, Cain shut his eyes and rubbed them with the heel of one palm. His other arm was still holding Glitch.
“All right, if that’s the kind of weather you have in these parts, I’d just as soon head back now,” Glitch joked in a tremulous tone, his hand still resting where he had placed it at the small of Cain’s back.
“I don’t think that was weather,” Cain shook his head, looking carefully at Glitch. Saw the ghostly pallor and felt the shaking of the hand on his back. “You felt something, didn’t you?”
Glitch swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. “Something dark. The same kind of feeling as when I’m around the royals, the ones with strong magical aptitude. Only, not so contained.”
“Dark,” Cain growled, not liking the implications. “Like what you felt around the Sorceress?” Back at the Northern Palace, before Glitch remembered his keeper abilities. But Cain had seen the way Glitch had reacted to Azkadellia, the way his eyes went dark and the formerly docile man had snarled at the witch to stay away from DG.
“Something like that,” Glitch admitted shakily. “I think the vacation’s over.”
**
Part 3
Author: Surreal
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, DG, Raw, Azkadellia, Queen, Ahamo, others
Genre: Adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17 (violence, m/m slash)
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to L. Frank Baum and the creative minds behind Tin Man. I do not claim to own anything.
Summary: Of all the indicators that their beautiful kingdom had gone to hell, it was the most simple of gestures that told those watching the moment they all had been utterly screwed.
Author Notes: An extension of the drabble of the same title written for avari_maethor, found here: When Wonderland Shatters.
Structured using the Fourteen Phrase prompt table on magic4mula: http://surranndie.livejournal.com/36587.html
Part 1
**
02. A picture's worth 1000 words
There were a lot of different ways Glitch could make Cain’s heart beat just a little faster; most of the time it was simply the act of walking into the same room the Tin Man was in.
The ceremonial sword swinging from Glitch’s hip as he approached the horse already loaded with supplies and waiting for him introduced a whole new, exciting level of heart pounding into Cain’s life.
The striking weapon was half tucked under the long, dark grey coat and its thin blade, sheathed in an elegantly embossed, pale leather scabbard, extended down the length of the former advisor’s leg and ended just past his knee.
Cain watched as Glitch hooked one foot into the stirrup and pushed up with the other leg, swinging himself gracefully onto his mount. He remembered a saying of his grandmother’s, that a picture’s worth one thousand words, but the imposing display of the Queen’s rightful advisor sitting atop a tall, powerful golden-haired horse with all the confidence accorded his station left Cain without any words at all.
“Ready to hit the road, Tin Man?” Glitch broke the other man’s stupor with a cheeky grin and gave his horse a gentle kick, sending him on his way.
Clearing his throat and finding his voice, Cain called out to the other man’s back. “Hey, Glitch? It’s this way.”
Glitch turned his horse around with a self-conscious chuckle. “Right, right, of course.” He matched strides with Cain, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword.
“So, Glitch,” Wyatt started conversationally. “What’s with the sword?”
“It was mine, though I suppose that it is mine again,” Glitch sat up proudly. “I found it tucked in the corner of my old wardrobe when I was looking for my travel coat.”
“Any particular reason you brought it with you?”
Glitch grinned and idly fingered the brass circling the handle. “I figured if I’m going to get the chance to refresh one old skill of mine, I might as well test out some others.”
“Well, if your sword skills are anything like your hand-to-hand combat skills, you might be on your own,” Cain pointed out apologetically. “I never learned to handle any kind of weapons besides firearms.”
Glitch cast a searching look in Cain’s direction. “If we’re really going to have some real time on our hands, would you have any interest in learning?”
“If it means spending more time with you?” Cain grinned at him affectionately.
“You are such a teenage girl,” Glitch laughed warmly. He looked away, watching the road in front of them wind through the deep burgundy branches of the Acer maples. “You know...you know...you know...”
Cain reached across and touched his arm, drawing him out of the cycle wordlessly. He received only a fleeting smile in return, long past the need for apologies or thanks.
“I was going to say, you know it’s only a matter of time before someone besides DG or Raw figures us out,” Glitch continued. “Not that it matters, of course. I only mention it because technically I am still an official of the monarchy and unless I make it clear at public events that I am courting someone, there’s no telling who the Queen might send my way.”
Coughing to cover his appalled retort to that image, Cain shook his head and straightened his back, putting on a stiff expression. “Well, then, it’s a good thing we’ll have some time alone to practice our proper civic behavior to avoid me having to defend your honor.”
“Indeed it is!”
**
Looking through the dust-streaked window above the makeshift desk they had pushed against one wall of the cabin, Cain watched as Glitch gracefully whirled and spun around the patches of wilted, dying grass in the front yard.
It was a mesmerizing display, one that Wyatt found his gaze drawn to every day since they had taken up temporary residence in the derelict cabin that he had once called home.
After several days of solid cleaning, rearranging, and burning of broken furniture beyond repair, the two men had settled into a daily routine. The mornings had seen Cain headed into the woods in search of fresh food, either in the form of small game, fish, or fruit from the trees just over the hillside. Some days Glitch would go with him, others he would stay home and work in his notebooks.
Organizing and decoding the stack of tattered books Glitch had packed along for the trip was a daunting task, one that both men took on in the days following the more urgent need to turn the domicile into something vaguely livable. When the notes became something approaching readable, Glitch settled himself into studying his own past.
It was the afternoons that reminded Cain of why he had made the decision to remove Glitch from the oppressive atmosphere of the Tower. He understood the reasons why the family had remained there, as the Central City home was still in shambles and the other mansions were too far from where they were needed in these early days of the renewed monarchy. But Cain could easily gage how deeply Glitch affected was by the constant reminders of his imprisonment and subsequent torture.
Clouds of dust drifting past the window pulled Cain from his thoughts. He watched as the twin glints of the fading daylight hitting both the long edge of the sword and the metal of Glitch’s zipper. The practice routine was winding down; Cain had learned the pattern of the moves, their elegant beauty not tarnished by repetition.
Cain timed his dinner preparations with the ending of Glitch’s session so that by the time Glitch was kicking the dirt from his boots outside the front door, the Tin Man was setting the small table with plates and cutlery.
“I think I’m starting to remember some of my training,” Glitch informed him brightly as he took his seat at the table.
“It looks like a lot more than that,” Cain frowned as he set out forks. “You’ve got a regular routine pretty well down.”
“That’s just muscle memory,” Glitch waved a hand, dismissing the praise. “No, what I really need to do is spar with someone so that I have to think and react. The tree isn’t giving me much useful feedback.”
Wyatt snorted and turned to pull the fish from the cast-iron oven. He had let the stones cool, only giving off enough heat to keep the meal warm while waiting for Glitch to come inside.
He never made it.
Finding himself on his hands and knees before he knew what had happened, Cain noticed first that what threw him off was that the room was suddenly thick with darkness. There was no light streaming through the window though there had been only a moment before.
Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the pitch black, he shifted around to search for Glitch. He heard the scraping of wood across the floor and spotted a blur of movement to his left. “Glitch? You all right?”
“I’m fine, chair tipped over,” Glitch’s voice drifted to him in the dark. “What’s going on?”
Cain shuffled across the floor toward the sound of the other man’s voice. “I don’t know, it came on too quick to be a storm.”
He had just gotten within arm’s reach when the floorboards began to shake, windows and doors shuddering in their frames. Cain dove forward, wrapping Glitch in a tight embrace and held on tight through the onslaught. The wood slats under them groaned in protest and there was a distant sound of cracking glass.
Just as suddenly as it began, the shaking abruptly stopped and the light returned. Momentarily blinded by the change, Cain shut his eyes and rubbed them with the heel of one palm. His other arm was still holding Glitch.
“All right, if that’s the kind of weather you have in these parts, I’d just as soon head back now,” Glitch joked in a tremulous tone, his hand still resting where he had placed it at the small of Cain’s back.
“I don’t think that was weather,” Cain shook his head, looking carefully at Glitch. Saw the ghostly pallor and felt the shaking of the hand on his back. “You felt something, didn’t you?”
Glitch swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. “Something dark. The same kind of feeling as when I’m around the royals, the ones with strong magical aptitude. Only, not so contained.”
“Dark,” Cain growled, not liking the implications. “Like what you felt around the Sorceress?” Back at the Northern Palace, before Glitch remembered his keeper abilities. But Cain had seen the way Glitch had reacted to Azkadellia, the way his eyes went dark and the formerly docile man had snarled at the witch to stay away from DG.
“Something like that,” Glitch admitted shakily. “I think the vacation’s over.”
**
Part 3