amicably_absent | The Ball. And Doom.

The Ball. And Doom.

For some reason, while Cain was stolen by Ahamo, Jeb and Tutor to get ready for the ball, while Glitch found himself hurried off by Raw, DG and Azkadellia.

The girls had clearly been scheming for a while, because there was beauticians ready, girls with steam things and hot things and clothes and al kinds of things that Glitch was sure he hadn't to go through to get ready for balls before.

Raw was stripped out of his furs and washed, doing a remarkable impersonation of a cat getting a bath with the yowling and complaining and eventual compliance with pouting. He cheered up when they got to blow drying and brushing through, his wild fur and hair neatened and brushed out and settled. Glitch insisted they weave ribbons through it, bows that Azkadellia clearly didn't entirely approve of and made DG pull that face that said she was laughing inside but wouldn't hurt feelings by saying it. Glitch thought it was cute, especially was Kalm was given the same treatment.

Then the mirrors were taken away and he was set upon by the ravenous hoards. Combs and brushes pulled at his hair past yells from DG telling them to mind the zipper. His face was scrubbed with some sweet smelling, rough stuff while his nails were buffed and filed and cleaned. Steam blasted over his scalp and oil that smelt like satusma was carefully worked through it to 'give it definition', whatever that meant.

The girls were being done at the same time. Azkadellia was quiet and elegant. DG complained and yelped as her hair was curled and pinned up, her make up up expertly applied. Glitch stopped questioning after a while when they descended on him with brushes until he was whisked away by a team of dressers, away from the girls and into a side area to be put in a suit.

He didn't mind the tight fitting, long sleeved under shirt. He dealt with the formal pants and thin piping on them and the polished black shoes. He didn't even grumble at the shirt that was done up att the way, professional and proper and not at all how he usually wore them.

The coat caused a stink. It was heavy, with small hooks instead of buttons and a deep wide swing and beautiful trim like he thought his old coat might have had before his head casing. It was a rich colour and lined with rich silk.

And it had medals. And that was the problem. He had no idea what they were for, but he was assured they were his and he had to wear them because Her Majesty had asked him to.

Which is why he's dressed up so fine, with shining medals and just enough make up to accentuate his features and his hair in disarray, with loose curls and gleaming zip, because he's used his fingers to undo the neat work the hairdressers did hiding his zipper with Ambrose's old side part.

And he was dragged in there to be there with the Royal family. So naturally, he's lurking near the corner of the Royal Dais, exchanging looks with DG and hoping Cain turns up soon so he has someone to talk to against his wall.

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"DG might be." He smiles as the slower music starts. "That sounds wonderful, Wyatt. Thank you."

He lays a hand on Wyatt's waist.

"Just give me a moment to switch gears, I'll be fine." He smiles, places his hands where they should be now the roles are reversed, one on Glitch's shoulder, the other rest comfortable in his hand.

"Now you keep your hands where they ought to be, Mister, or I'm walking."

"Spoilsport," Glitch smirks. "Not even a little grope in front of everyone?" He starts them dancing, as perfectly in control and graceful as ever when it's dancing, just that hint playful.

He can be graceful enough for both of them, because Wyatt is not used to thinking and doing this backwards and reversed and, okay, he'll be okay as long as Glitch keeps him from bumping into people.

"Maybe a little one, but only if you treat me right."

Glitch giggles and swings Cain around, pulling him in close again. "Your butt is very grope-able," he whispers in his ear. "When you were getting that box of yours, I couldn't stop staring at your butt."

"What?!" He chuckles, almost missing his step. "When?"

Glitch laughs aloud, not caring if he draws stares. He finds the steps again, leaning in close. "When we found you. Before you agreed to let us come with you. You were reaching under the cottage. I was staring at your butt."

It's--

He was--

He starts shaking with suppressed laughter, trying his very best not to have a fit in the middle of DG's big party.

"You were-- I was--" No, right now is not for talking. It's for giggling helplessly and hugging Glitch close.

Glitch does his best :3 face and keeps Wyatt upright, holding him close and giggling in his ear.

"I was perving on your butt," he giggles.

If only he could remember what dignity entails, he would be upright and not making a spectacle of them in no time. As a matter of fact, he's just too comfortable to care about dignity.

And besides, Glitch started it.

"You were! Oh!" He's still grinning, and breathless, but if he giggles any more he'll get chest cramps. "I didn't even notice!"

"Of course not. You were being broody and traumatised and bent on revenge." He snuggles and dips Cain, just a little. "I got distracted and forgot what you'd said and realised you had a lovely butt."

Good thing he isn't wearing a hat tonight, or it would go sailing right about now. He grins when he comes back up, flushed red in the face and not caring one bit.

"My very own pervert." How in the world he makes that sound so endearing is a well kept Cain family secret.

Glitch giggles again and steals a quick kiss before a hand lightly touches Cain's shoulder.

Her Majesty is there, smiling softly. "Mister Cain, may I steal Ambrose for a dance?"

He turns his head, still a tad flushed, but whether that's from dancing or having a hoot, or from wondering just how much she heard when coming over, well, that's neither here nor there.

He smiles, tilting his head as he bows. "Certainly, Your Majesty."

He smiles at Glitch, and lets the Queen take his place.

Glitch throws him a glance, one that softens and deepens as he turns his attention to the Queen. "Of course, Anoria, I'd be honoured."

Ambrose steps off with the Queen, sweeping her in close to dance, upright and elegant like Glitch doesn't quite manage.

And for a moment, Cain stands alone in a sea of people, watching as the two of them dance.

Then he's quite literally glomped from behind, as a certain princess with othersidedly experiences comes demanding a dance.

He turns around, taking her hand with a small smile. "Of course, kid. I'd be delighted."

"I promise not to step on your toes, Mister Cain."

"And I promise not to tell anyone if you do."

Ambrose dances with Anoria until Tutor steals her. He wanders away from the dance floor to wait for Wyatt to finish.

"Shameless really. Being headcased has done him no favours, at least before he was subtle with his liaisons."

"And no matter how dressed up they make him, there's no mistaking that he's lower stock. A hero, of course, but hero doesn't mean you need to bed them and flaunt it."

Ambrose slips back further, silent.

"And you can see the boy doesn't approve. He's become more insensitive and callous with it all."

Ambrose slips out the back, down the path to the garden, into the moonlight.

Some time later, after dancing with both princesses and a demanding Kalm, and saying hi to his son and Raw as well, Wyatt excuses himself to go find Glitch. Searching for the glint of metal leaves him disappointed - a lot of the nobles assembled have fancy glittering things adorning their heads in different ways, but they don't interest him, they're just distractions.

And then it hits him. Maybe he went outside, just like in the good old days. He doubts they were all that good, in that respect, but the garden is a refuge for both Glitch and Ambrose, and it's where he's going next.

The air is fresh and vibrant with the many fragrant flowers and trees, and the newly mowed grass. He follows the path with a certain kind of spring to his step, always looking for the glint of silver.

Ambrose is in the garden, under the willow tree. His eyes are closed, moving in a dance that might be achingly familiar to Wyatt. The moonlight his partner, the breeze her caress, and he moves slowly to music that doesn't reach down here but he hears clearly in his mind.

The moonlight strikes the polished zipper like pure silver.

It's heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time, and Wyatt moves once again through the air for a dance. But it isn't a dream this time, it isn't through some sort of surreal mist that he reaches out his hand to tap Ambrose's shoulder gently. Glitch wouldn't have come out here to dance with Wyatt on the dance floor and always willing.

Ambrose might.

Ambrose starts, cheeks pink and snapping around, relaxing when he sees who it is. "Wyatt, you surprised me. I didn't hear you." He clasps his hand, fingers playing each other. "You ere busy, so I just, slipped out here for a while."

"It's fine, I don't mind, it's beautiful out here in the moonlight. I'm not busy anymore," he points out in what he hopes is a reassuring tone of voice. "Is everything okay?"

He smiles slightly, a similar smile to the one in the mirror, when he told Anoria that he had destroyed the plans, the only copy was in his mind. "I just don't enjoy crowds."

He's taken off the medals as well, they jingle slightly in his pocket. "I've always loved it out here."

"I understand." He smiles slightly. "You don't have to explain."

He tilts his head, just looking for a moment, and the smile lingers on. "Would you like to dance with me, Ambrose?"

Ambrose smiles shyly and then nods. "I would love that, Wyatt, thank you."

He offers his hands. "You prefer to lead, I believe?"

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