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Ambrosius Goldenloin was helplessly in love with Ballister Boldheart. In love with his laugh, his kind eyes, his steadfast determination. His thoughts, his soul, his… heart. Ambrosius was in love with his stubbornness, his agitation, his wit. He would love Ballister through every twist and turn he was pulled through. He loved him through recovery, through mourning. He Loved him through nightmares and phantom pain. Ambrosius loved Ballister, loved him as he officially renounced knighthood, deciding instead to open up his cybernetics shop, stating that he still wanted to help people, just in a new way. Ambrosius was in love with the fact that despite his shortcomings, his betrayals, his actions, Bal had still found it in his heart to forgive him, and Ambrosius was determined to make sure Bal knew his reprieve would not go wasted.
Even if that meant getting a little outside his own comfort zone sometimes.
Ambrosius had no problems with Nimona! Not at all! She was… not like anyone he had ever met before, certainly. Unique, one might say! And although he would admit she wasn’t always… his cup of tea, to say the least, Ballister truly cared for her, and who was Ambrosius to step in the way of that?
That did, at times, mean that Ambrosius was forced to overlook some behavior he… wasn’t fond of.
The messes he could forgive. The rudeness and lack of social grace were harder to overlook, but still manageable. The violence and stealing were more so where he drew the line.
Ambrosius glanced up from his breakfast as Nimona strolled into the room, still wearing pajamas, which was expected but also adorned in a rather elegant-looking bathrobe that positively swamped her more diminutive stature. It appeared to be baby blue silk and was embroidered with the name Sureblade across the chest- oh no.
Ambrosius chewed and swallowed his food as he considered how best to approach the subject. “Nimona,” he started carefully, doing his best to sound casual. “Is that a new bathrobe?”
The shapeshifter looked down before shrugging and plopping herself at the kitchen table, leaning across the table to grab at a box of cereal instead of just asking for someone to pass it to her, but that was a topic for another time. “Yyyyyep.” She popped the P as she spoke, shaking cereal into her bowl and proceeding to get a third of the box’s contents all over the table.
“Hm.” Ambrosius hummed politely. “Where’d you get it? It’s… rather nice.”
Nimona’s eyes flickered over to the knight as she grabbed for the milk. Once again, she gave a nonchalant shrug. “I found it.”
Ambrosius nodded slowly, pulling his face into a tight-lipped smile. “Is Sureblade the brand then?”
Nimona paused, her head slowly turning to look back down at herself. For a split second, she looked as if she knew she was caught, before turning on a dime, putting on a sharp tooth smile. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, it’s the brand; what else would it be?”
As Ambrosius opened his mouth to respond, he was fortunately cut off as Ballister rounded the corner, giving a stretch and a yawn upon entering. “Good morning,” he hummed sleepily, ruffling Nimona’s hair and pressing a tired kiss to Ambrosius’s temple before sitting down. Ambrosius glanced over at the lack of a metal arm at Ballister’s side. It was unusual for him to eat breakfast before putting the prosthetic on.
Nimona swatted his hand away, the sleeve of her bathrobe entirely hiding her hand. “Morning boss! Your nemesis was just complimenting my beautiful new bathrobe.”
Ambrosius stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Apparently, Todd has started a clothing brand.” He muttered against the ceramic of his coffee mug.
Ballister rubbed at his eyes with his one hand before squinting in Nimona’s direction. He really did need to get his eyes looked at. “Nimona. Did you… steal Todd’s bathrobe?”
Nimona blinked slowly, closing each eye one at a time. “What are you, a knight?” Her eyes momentarily flickered over to Ambrosius as she spoke, another small jab at him that was best left unacknowledged.
Ballister chuckled, his voice still rough from having just woken up. “Okay that's… don’t do it again, but, yeah, that’s pretty metal.” He paused a moment. “I feel like I didn’t use that word right.”
“You used it right.” Nimona turned back to her bowl of cereal, devouring another spoonful before speaking through a mouthful of food. “It just sounds wrong because you’re old.”
“I’m not old,” Bal scoffed, reaching across himself to gesture for the coffee creamer. “Pass me that, would you?”
“Very compelling argument, peepaw.”
Ambrosius couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes this time as he handed the coffee creamer to his boyfriend. “Bal, where’s your arm?”
Nimona snorted. “I don’t know, Golden dick, where is his arm?” She gave another sharp tooth smile, clear malice behind her eyes. The knight could feel his stomach drop, involuntarily taking a sharp breath. By Gloreth- she always did this. It was like she prided herself in getting under Ambrosius’s skin. Since coming back from death, Nimona’s singular life goal seemed to be belittling and picking on Ambrosius, and for his life, he couldn’t figure out why.
“Nimona,” Ballister said disapprovingly, a silent warning to watch herself before returning to Ambrosius. “It’s been on the fritz lately. I’m going into the shop today to fix it up.”
“Oooh!” Nimona quickly gobbled down the rest of her breakfast, spilling milk in the process, much to the irritation of the golden knight. “Can I come?”
“No, you got banned remember?” Ballister sighed between sips of coffee. “You had the bright idea of turning into a rat and chewing on the wires.”
Nimona gave a dreamy sigh as if remembering the day fondly. “I caused a blackout.”
“Exactly, you caused a blackout.” Bal set down the mug. “So you get to stay here with Ambrosius.”
Nimona slumped dramatically back in her seat, groaning with exasperation. “Come on! It was one mistake. That’s not fair!”
Ballister shrugged. “Don’t like it, stop chewing through wires.”
“It’s not my fault that place is boring.”
“Then why do you wanna come with!?” Ballister gave an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I’ll be back in a few hours. Just… don’t get into any trouble until then.”
Nimona groaned loudly, leaning back in her chair to prop her feet on the table. “You’re the worst.”
Ambrosius sucked his teeth, setting down his glass. “Nimona, could you please not put your feet on the table?” The shapeshifter looked over in distaste, pausing for a heavy second before a sly smile fell across her face. A flash of sparkles swirled around her before she changed, a large snake taking her place. Her tail thumped against the table where her feet had once been.
“Is this better, you royal pain?” She hissed out with a flick of her forked tongue.
Ballister killed his coffee before standing. “Nimona, play nice.”
“I am playing nice!” She protested, slithering down the chair leg and winding her way up Ballister’s leg to settle across his shoulders before once again transforming into a common house cat. “I got my feet off the table, didn’t I?”
And this is what Ambrosius meant. Her callous crudeness, her insistence at biting back at simple requests, her abysmal table manners. Nimona helped Ballister when he was at his lowest. For that, Ambrosius would forever be eternally grateful, but that didn’t overshadow the fact that she was increasingly irritating.
If he was being honest, it made Ambrosius feel guilty. Was it really her actions that made him dislike her, or was it more subconscious than that? He wanted to like Nimona, he really did. He wished he could see whatever Ballister saw in her, but whenever he tried, she would somehow wind up getting under his skin again.
So, for the most part, he kept his distance. Nimona had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Ambrosius, and no matter how he felt, he tried to respect that. So despite the fact it was his apartment that she was staying in, he tried to make himself scarce when it was just the two of them.
And that was definitely the case today. Nimona tended to bounce around constantly, moving from activity to activity seemingly every few minutes, but today was different. From the moment Ballister left, she had situated herself on the couch and hadn’t exactly moved unless it was to grab more popcorn, which was fine. In fact, the tameness was welcomed by Ambrosius, who had work to get done anyway. Since the destruction of the wall, the job of the knights had changed from protection to exploration, and there was plenty of paperwork to check off before the next expedition was to set out.
Around lunch, however, his growling stomach demanded he take a break, so he eventually gave in and emerged from the home office despite his wishes to give Nimona the space she required.
As he crossed through the living room, he instinctively watched her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for her to move or react to his presence. She didn’t, having taken the form of a large wolf so her form took up the entire couch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if she was trying to shed on his couch. There had certainly been an uptick of pink fur found across his house.
“Uh, Nimona?” He asked gently. She did not acknowledge his presence other than twitching her ear in his direction, a silent way of saying ‘I’m listening’ for her. “I was about to make some lunch. Would you like anything?”
Nimona silently shifted, turning from wolf to cat as she stretched, her newly formed claws digging into the cushion beneath her. “I could eat.” She hummed out, jumping down from the sofa and trodding into the kitchen. “Wha’cha makin’, Golden boy?”
Ambrosius exhaled but let the nickname go as he opened the fridge. “Weeeeee have leftovers? How does reheated Chinese food sound?”
Nimona jumped up onto the counter before transforming back into her human self. She made a “pffffffft” sound before kicking her feet out. “Could we order pizza?”
Ambrosius’s lips tightened slightly. “We have perfectly good food right here, Nimona.”
The shifter rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Boss would let me get pizza.”
The knight crossed his arms, cocking an eyebrow. “Don’t know if you noticed; I’m not Bal.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m aware,” She huffed, hopping down from the counter. “Leftovers sound great. I’ll be on the couch.” And with that, she exited the kitchen.
Ambrosius sighed, feeling himself deflate slightly before setting to work reheating leftovers. The distance between himself and Nimona was insurmountable, yet he kept trying to close it for Ballister’s sake. Why couldn’t he get out of his own way? Why couldn’t Nimona just be more agreeable? Couldn’t she see the effort he was putting in, the changes and progress he was making? Bal could, so why couldn’t she?
Ambrosius entered the living room with two plates prepared, handing one down to Nimona before glancing over to the TV. “What are you watching?”
Nimona accepted the plate, quickly digging in before answering, once again with her mouth full. “Zombie Invasion 4: Dead Vengeance.”
Ambrosius hummed thoughtfully, turning back to the screen, watching slightly disturbed as the actor was torn limb from limb by an undead horde. “I’ve heard it doesn’t exactly have a happy ending.”
Ninoma gave him a confused look. “Yeah it does. The zombies win.”
Ambrosius nodded as if he understood. After a beat, he sat down, giving Nimona space.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, um.” The knight paused, stabbing his fork into his food. “I thought I might join you, if that’s alright?”
Nimona squinted at him, instantly untrusting of his intentions, but nevertheless, turning back to her plate. “Fine, but you’re not gonna like this movie.”
Ambrosius shrugged. “I might surprise you-”
“Shhh, they’re talking.” Nimona grabbed the remote and turned the volume up to silence the knight further.
Nimona… wasn’t wrong. About the movie, that is. It wasn’t Ambrosiuss’s taste. In his opinion, movies should have happy endings. Watching a film and getting attached to the characters only to have them fail in the end just… left a sour taste in his mouth, but Nimona seemed to love them. She reveled in watching the protagonist meet a gruesome demise. She liked seeing the villain win in the end, and Ambrosius just… didn’t get it.
“So, Goldilocks.” Nimona mused, another sly grin on her face. “How much did you hate it?”
When Ambrosius opened his mouth he intended to answer her question. But when he turned to face her, and he noticed her shoes propped up on the coffee table, and he saw the layer of bright pink wolf fur coating his couch, and he noticed her wiping her hands off with a throw pillow; he, unfortunately, said something entirely unrelated.
“Why don’t you like me?”
Nimona stilled, her grin crumbling near instantly. Hesitantly, she sat up, slowly as if she were approaching a wounded animal, but with none of the associated kindness. “Why do you care?”
“Why do- what?” Ambrosius also sat up. Why does he care? Was that a real question? “Why do I care?”
Nimona stood up, her brow already furrowed. “Well you don’t like me either! And I don’t care!”
Ambrosius averted his gaze. “I don’t-”
“Oh, don’t deny it, Golden Boy.” Nimona hissed out, her eyes flashing white for a moment. “You’ve made it very clear you don’t want me around! We both know I’m only here because you’re too scared to stand up to Ballister!”
“I’m not scared,” Ambrosius growled out with more grit than intended, but there she was again, under his skin.
“Then do it!” The shapeshifter growled back. “Kick me out! Put your foot down! Tell your boyfriend you want nothing to do with me!”
“That’s-” Ambrosius clenched his fists, attempting to restrain himself from being as callous as she was. He refused to stoop to her level. “This has nothing to do with Bal.”
“Suuuuure.” Nimona rolled her eyes. “And you let me into your home out of the goodness of your heart.”
“I don’t know why it’s hard for you to understand, but I have tried to be kind and civil with you.” The knight emphasized. “I’m just asking you to be civil back-”
“Oh, as if you or your family has ever been civil to me!” Nimona was seeing red. Her hands shook with contained rage. “You may pretend for Ballister’s sake, but we both know how you really feel about who I am!”
“My family- Nimona, I’m just asking for some basic human decency here!” Ambrosius could feel himself boiling over and tried to keep it down, continuing his dedication to courtesy.
“Well, I’m not human, am I?”
“Trust me, it’s obvious!”
The words escaped him before he even had a chance to reel himself back in. It felt like the air itself had shattered. You could have heard a pin drop, and Ambrosius almost did. Nimona’s sharp inhale hit the Golden Knight like a punch to the gut.
Shit. Ambrosius had really done it now.
Time slowed. He could feel himself lifting a hand to reach out. “Nimona-”
“Don’t!” She swatted his hand away, shifting into a fox and bounding past him. “Fuck, I should have known this would happen! You’re just like her.”
Ambrosius watched as Nimona beelined for the door. “Nimona, wait-” he was cut off by the sound of the lock turning and the door pushing open. Fuck. Why now?
“I’m home,” Ballister pushed open the door to enter and Nimona took her shot, quickly shifting into some kind of bird and bolting out the door.
“Nimona!” Ambrosius rushed to stop her but was miles too late as she disappeared into the world.
Ballister grabbed the knight as he tried to push past him. “Woah, what happened?”
This is gonna be it. You’ve messed up too much. He can’t keep forgiving you. How many times are you gonna fuck up before you actually learn? Ambrosius choked on a breath, turning away from the door and to Bal. Worry creased his brow and pooled in his eyes.
Fuck.
So once again, Ambrosius swallowed his pride. “I messed up.”
---
Nimona wasn’t at the old lair. She wasn’t at her favorite pizza place or her own memorial. She wasn’t at that arcade she liked, or the underpass with all her graffiti, or even at that comic store that Ambrosius was confident was a front for crime.
Around then, Ambrosius began to see the panic in Ballister’s eyes. By Gloreth, he kept doing this, kept messing up and hurting people he cared about, kept saying and doing things he didn’t mean because… why? Because he was trained to? Because he was told to act before he thought? That's not an excuse, and it’s not an apology.
Ballister ran a hand through his hair, watching as the sun set and the sky darkened. Ambrosius could almost hear his mind racing as the former knight’s eyes flickered across the skyline. Tentatively, Ambrosius let his hand land on Ballister’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“We’re going to find her,” the Golden Knight declared, stating it like a fact. Ballister exhaled, deflating as the air left him.
“What if she’s hurt?” Bal mumbled, worry creasing his brow. “What if she’s hurt, and she’s just alone out there. It's a big city.”
“It’s Nimona,” Ambrosius emphasized. “Not even death could keep her down.”
“I know! I know. It’s just…” Bal ran another hand through his hair. “I’m just worried.”
Ambrosius slowly reached over, grabbing Ballister’s hand. “I know.” He glanced at the skyline, past the wall, and out to the vast unknown. She could be anywhere, but hopefully, she was still here. “You should go home.”
Ballister gave a confused look. “What?”
“She might just return there at some point, and someone should be there if she does,” Ambrosius explained. “And you deserve some rest. This mess is my fault anyway. I’ll keep looking, and if she shows up, I’ll let you know.”
Ballister shook his head. “You don’t have to-”
“Please.” Let me do this for you. Let me make up for it. Let me fix this. Ambrosius squeezed his hand. “I can handle this.”
Ballister paused a moment before sighing. “Ok, you have a point. If she returns to the house, I’ll call you.”
“Same. If I see her, you’ll be the first to know.”
So that was how Ambrosius ended up running through the city, in the rain, in the dead of night. He was probably going to catch a cold after this, but it wasn’t important at this point. This was for Ballister.
This was for Nimona.
The subways were a bust, and so were the grimy passageways that Nimona insisted on calling “shortcuts.” He checked every rooftop that would have been easily accessible to her, which was most of them. He was almost ready to pull the city apart brick by brick before a familiar pink glimmer caught his eye.
At the edge of the city, where skyscrapers ended and the forest began, he had almost missed it. In fact, Ambrosius wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t just his eyes playing tricks on him. Still, it was the only hint he had gotten all night, so against his better judgment (and all his previous training), Ambrosius entered the woods.
Ambrosius would admit he was not always the outdoorsy type. He could count on one hand the number of times he had made the trek from the city to the forest. So as he trudged into the dark and mysterious wood, he could tell he was out of his depth.
“Nimona!” He called out, walking deeper and deeper into the unexplored terrain. The shapeshifter’s iconic pink glimmer could no longer be seen, so it was on a hope and a prayer that he was still going the right way. “Nimona, are you out here?”
The leaves above him shook, but that was probably just the wind. Ambrosius squinted into the darkness around him, hoping for another clue or hint to her location; frankly, anything that would tell him this search wasn’t a lost cause.
And then he got it.
“Why are you here?” Ambrosius looked up, finally spotting the shapeshifter among the tree branches directly overhead. At that moment, she appeared human, curled in on herself with her back pressed against the trunk.
“Oh thank goodness,” Ambrosius breathed out. She appeared to be generally unharmed, if not soaking wet and coated in a layer of mud. “We were so worried about you.”
“We?” She asked harshly, her glowing eyes narrowing down at him.
Thunder cracked in the distance as Ambrosius paused. “Yes. We. I was worried I- I still am, and so is Bal.”
Nimona looked away, parting the leaves with an arm to look back at the city, robed in lights. She didn’t dignify him with a response.
“Please come home?” He asked, glancing down at his watch. “It’s late, and you might catch a cold with the rain.”
“I knew Gloreth.”
Ambrosius froze, blinking dumbly up at her. What?
“She was my best friend back then.” She continued, not waiting for his reaction. “We spent every day together playing and laughing… and she knew.” She glared down at Ambrosius. “She knew what I was and she loved me! She loved me until…” Nimona looked back at the city, focusing on the golden statue in its center. “Until she didn’t.”
Ambrosius paused, the rain beating down on his face no longer holding meaning. “Nimona-”
“You look like her.” He almost didn’t hear it, her voice barely carrying over the wind. “Sometimes, when I’m not paying attention, out of the corner of my eye, you almost look like her. I think it’s the hair.”
“I’m sorry.” He said it with his whole chest, needing Nimona to hear him. “About… everything.”
Nimona paused, tucking a knee to her chest and letting her head fall, curling up as tight as she could while sitting in a tree. “I know.”
Ambrosius stood there for a moment before sighing. Well, this isn’t what he thought he was going to do today, but at this point, why not? He cracked his fingers before shaking out his hands and grabbing the lowest branch, beginning to pull himself up.
Nimona quickly looked down. “What are you doing?”
“You look lonely up there,” Ambrosius said with a grunt, swinging a leg up to give himself some leverage in the climb. Thankfully his training was really coming in handy. “I’m joining you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She mumbled against her leg, glancing away from him.
“I know.” He said matter of factly as he finally reached her branch. “I’m doing this because I want to.”
Nimona stared at him, almost as if she were trying to study him or remember something important. Suddenly, she reached out and flicked him across the nose.
“Ow.”
“That wasn’t a compliment, by the way.” She said quickly. “You’re way uglier than she was.”
Ambrosius chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.”
“I mean it! I don’t know what Boss sees in you because her looks were not genetic.”
The knight smiled, rolling his eyes slightly. At least her mood had improved. A beat of silence fell between them, the only sound being the rain hitting the leaves and the wind whistling past them.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, breaking the silence.
“You already said that.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “I’m still… I’ve got a lot to unlearn, and I’m getting better, but… that’s not an excuse. I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Nimona stared back at him again. She had been doing that a lot these days. “It’s a start.” She finally said. “I’m sor-”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” He cut her off. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Nimona shrugged, looking back at the city.
“We should probably head back.” The knight finally said after a moment. “I wasn’t joking about you catching a cold.”
Nimona groaned. “Some rain is not gonna hurt me, Goldie.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Ambrosius shifted on the branch, blindly lowering his foot to feel for how to get back down. “Do you need any help?”
Nimona cackled. “Please,” she quickly shifted into a squirrel, jumping from branch to branch before scurrying down the tree trunk. “Do you need any help?”
Ambrosius rolled his eyes. “Show off.”
It was baby steps. It was slow and steady, but it was something. It wasn’t perfect, it didn’t change the past, and it certainly didn’t fix anything. But it was progress.
And in the end, that was all they could really ask for.