(no subject)

It takes a fair feat for a royal procession to sneak up on a place, but somehow, the Queen and Ahamo arrange it without resorting to magic or any other nefarious deeds. And despite their time apart, the Queen leaves her husband with their girls and goes through the maze, pale and ghost like in her finery until she walks to the pagoda.

He's sitting there on the swing, gray hat on his head and watching the lake. She approaches him quietly, silk and chiffon rustling on the grass.

"You know," he says as she almost reaches the steps, "I don't remember a lot of things. But I get flashes... They don't make sense though. And I'm scared everything else will end up that way."

"Is it improving though?" She walked up the steps.

He launched from his seat, eyes wide. "Your Majesty," he stammered. "I didn't- I thought-" Then he calmed, going serene and dropping to one knee, sweeping the hat form his head and bowing it. "I thought you were DG."

"Please, Ambrose, no need to stand on formality." She took his hand, lifting him up. He rose gracefully, taking her hand. She smiled at the look, his thin, pale hand still large next to hers. "It's been a long time."

"I know." He looks out to the lake. "I never forgot you, Anoria. I forgot many things, but not you."

"I worried for you. I worried for my daughter, my husband-"

"They're your family, Anoria. of course you worried about them."

"You are my family as well, Ambrose. Since we first met. My most loyal friend, my adviser, my bodyguard..."

He looked away. "You wouldn't let me protect you in the end. In the end. In the end."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ambrose?"

"Mm?" He looked over his shoulder to her, gaze distant. "Have we met?"

It was a stab of pain. She smiled, but it was fragile. "Ambrose, it's me. Anoria."

"Anori- Oh my goodness, Anoria, I'm so sorry, I don't-"

"You glitched. It's all right." She squeezed his shoulder. "How about you come in and sit with Ahamo and I for a while, rather than out here in the cold by yourself?"

"Of course, Anoria." He put the hat back on without even seeming to process the move. He offered her his arm. "Your majesty?"

"Chief Adviser..." She took it with a smile, and they started walking back, delicate and waif like as they walked together in too heavy finery.

(no subject)

Six weeks is a long time for anyone. For Glitch, it is both forever and no time at all, depending on the exact minute.

Overall, it's been a long time. He's been glitching again, not severely, but more than he prefers. Going through his old labs in Central City, in the palace itself, he's remembering glimpses that flinch away as he reaches for them.

He has no concept of how long has passed. No one's thought to really remind him, he almost prefers not knowing. And no one was sure about when the Tin men would return, so no one really pushed it.

Which is why Glitch isn't waiting for them when they return. He's sitting in the garden, reading his old diaries and half listening to the whispers of Ambrose. He's still wearing Cain's hat though.