Zero Tolerance: Behind Brown Eyes
Title: Behind Brown Eyes
Characters: Azkadellia, Ambrose, DG, The Queen, Ahamo, The Cains and OCs.
Disclaimer: Owned by others.
Rating: G
Summary: Fallout from Azkadellia's testimony.
Table of Contents
Azkadellia's hands clenched on the podium in reaction to the murmurings of the crowd. Though out of clear earshot, she could well imagine how they were talking about how he had corrupted her. The smell, the overcrowded room turning it into an intense mixture of sweat and wood, stung her nostrils. She glanced over at Morris, who returned her gaze with a mixture of world-weariness and irritation. He straightened and corrected Ambrose's course, giving the desk a bang with his gavel and showing the crowd his disatisfaction with a glare.
Azkadellia was very relieved when the judge nodded at her, giving her permission to leave. She met Zero's eyes without fear of what they might think. His eyebrows were up in a silent apology. She nodded at him before moving to leave. She just happened to glance in Ambrose's direction in time to see his stricken look. It was almost as if he glitched and another person had taken control of him for a brief time. Azkadellia could well relate.
Her father had managed to get to the courtroom doors in time to met her. He was slightly out of breath but didn't hesitate to open out his arms. She walked into them, needing all the human touch she could get. Especially from a father... her father. A part of her immediately rejected the scandalised whispers that Ahamo was muttering under his breath, even as another hand, her mother's, rested on her shoulder. That was the part of her that belonged to the witch, the part who insisted that every bad thing, from losing Zero to getting that papercut, was richly deserved.
Apparently, DG strongly disagreed.
What the hell was that? Ambrose was certain, absolutely certain that the entire courtroom was thinking the same thing. Glitch, the man who he'd been for the last fifteen years, would have fainted in shock to see him treat The Sorceress that way, let alone the sweet girl that The Witch had trapped inside her own body.
Was Ambrose capable of such things? Or was this the result of the brain reattachment? A deviant impulse, long suppressed, resurging with a blood lust? He glanced over at Zero, who had been staring daggers at him since Azkadellia had left. He felt sick. Fortunately, Devereux saved him from his brooding, She requested a recess as some of her witnesses had yet to arrive. Given that the courtcase was somewhat rushed to begin with (back before The Sorceress' reign these things took years to get this far), the judge was willing to grant the request and Ambrose was certainly in no humour to deny it.
With the bang of the gavel, Morris left his chair and descended into the judges' chambers.Ambrose took his time gathering up his pages, watching the people file out and Zero, shackled, tugged back to his cell. His analytical side noted that his guards, who only a short time ago, would have leapt at any opportunity to hit him, even an errant sneeze, were treating him with respect. Sometimes, he reminded himself, it was difficult to remember that with all his cocky arrogance, Zero was quite the charismatic man, his high rank no doubt a testament to that.
The courtroom was empty by the time he walked out. And fell to the floor. It took a few moments for him to realise what had happened. One minute he was fine, the next a small, but undoubtedly solid, object came flying at him, hitting him just under his eye and sending him to the ground. Raising his hands to defend himself, he looked up and saw an enraged DG standing over him, her fist up and her hair askew. A flash filled the hall and the sound of a scuffle nearby alerted Ambrose to a photographer nearby.
Registering that it was in fact the second flash, Ambrose cursed under his breath. Great, it wasn't bad enough disgracing one princess, I have to be the disgrace of another? Cain glared over at the photographer, who was valiantly trying to escape, pleading "FREEDOM FOR THE PRESS!" while holding DG back.
"DG, please," The Queen asked her quietly before looking down at the still prone Ambrose. "Ambrose. This is not like you."
Ambrose snorted mirthlessly. "Isn't it? I'm afraid, Your Highness, I don't know who I'm like anymore."
"You're not like Glitch," DG replied, her voice quivering and unshed tears in her eyes. Cain's hold had turned into a hug. "Glitch would never hurt Az like that."
Ambrose found himself shaking his head, in utter agreement with her. He looked up at Azkadellia, who simply stared back, leaning into her father's embrace. "I knew this was a bad idea," Cain whispered. Unfortunately, the acoustics in the area was excellent so Ambrose heard him. Cain looked over at him. "Should have just let you stay with your inventions."
Ambrose, who had now pulled himself up into a sitting position at least, jumped at the sound of Jeb's voice. "I'm starting to wonder..." the young man mused, up to now unobserved sitting on a nearby bench. He looked up at his father, then Ambrose. "Whether it's all worth it. What are we fighting for again? Justice? For what? Mom? She died quick. I mean... compared to some others I know... we've led a pretty charmed life. In a war, people die. She wasn't any different than anybody else."
"She was different. To us," Wyatt replied.
Jeb nodded. "Yeah... I just...This is worse than the Tin Suit. Least back then we always knew who that bad guys were."
"We're tired," The Queen decided. "I suggest we all get some rest."
DG gave her mother a weary smile. "'The sun always shines brighter in the morning'. Or suns. Whatever."
"What's going on outside?" DG asked after they began to move out. They went to the nearest window, where they spotted a large gathering of women heading towards the courthouse.
"Those are my witnesses," Devereux supplied, with a victorious grin.
Behind Lavender Eyes
Characters: Azkadellia, Ambrose, DG, The Queen, Ahamo, The Cains and OCs.
Disclaimer: Owned by others.
Rating: G
Summary: Fallout from Azkadellia's testimony.
Table of Contents
Azkadellia's hands clenched on the podium in reaction to the murmurings of the crowd. Though out of clear earshot, she could well imagine how they were talking about how he had corrupted her. The smell, the overcrowded room turning it into an intense mixture of sweat and wood, stung her nostrils. She glanced over at Morris, who returned her gaze with a mixture of world-weariness and irritation. He straightened and corrected Ambrose's course, giving the desk a bang with his gavel and showing the crowd his disatisfaction with a glare.
Azkadellia was very relieved when the judge nodded at her, giving her permission to leave. She met Zero's eyes without fear of what they might think. His eyebrows were up in a silent apology. She nodded at him before moving to leave. She just happened to glance in Ambrose's direction in time to see his stricken look. It was almost as if he glitched and another person had taken control of him for a brief time. Azkadellia could well relate.
Her father had managed to get to the courtroom doors in time to met her. He was slightly out of breath but didn't hesitate to open out his arms. She walked into them, needing all the human touch she could get. Especially from a father... her father. A part of her immediately rejected the scandalised whispers that Ahamo was muttering under his breath, even as another hand, her mother's, rested on her shoulder. That was the part of her that belonged to the witch, the part who insisted that every bad thing, from losing Zero to getting that papercut, was richly deserved.
Apparently, DG strongly disagreed.
What the hell was that? Ambrose was certain, absolutely certain that the entire courtroom was thinking the same thing. Glitch, the man who he'd been for the last fifteen years, would have fainted in shock to see him treat The Sorceress that way, let alone the sweet girl that The Witch had trapped inside her own body.
Was Ambrose capable of such things? Or was this the result of the brain reattachment? A deviant impulse, long suppressed, resurging with a blood lust? He glanced over at Zero, who had been staring daggers at him since Azkadellia had left. He felt sick. Fortunately, Devereux saved him from his brooding, She requested a recess as some of her witnesses had yet to arrive. Given that the courtcase was somewhat rushed to begin with (back before The Sorceress' reign these things took years to get this far), the judge was willing to grant the request and Ambrose was certainly in no humour to deny it.
With the bang of the gavel, Morris left his chair and descended into the judges' chambers.Ambrose took his time gathering up his pages, watching the people file out and Zero, shackled, tugged back to his cell. His analytical side noted that his guards, who only a short time ago, would have leapt at any opportunity to hit him, even an errant sneeze, were treating him with respect. Sometimes, he reminded himself, it was difficult to remember that with all his cocky arrogance, Zero was quite the charismatic man, his high rank no doubt a testament to that.
The courtroom was empty by the time he walked out. And fell to the floor. It took a few moments for him to realise what had happened. One minute he was fine, the next a small, but undoubtedly solid, object came flying at him, hitting him just under his eye and sending him to the ground. Raising his hands to defend himself, he looked up and saw an enraged DG standing over him, her fist up and her hair askew. A flash filled the hall and the sound of a scuffle nearby alerted Ambrose to a photographer nearby.
Registering that it was in fact the second flash, Ambrose cursed under his breath. Great, it wasn't bad enough disgracing one princess, I have to be the disgrace of another? Cain glared over at the photographer, who was valiantly trying to escape, pleading "FREEDOM FOR THE PRESS!" while holding DG back.
"DG, please," The Queen asked her quietly before looking down at the still prone Ambrose. "Ambrose. This is not like you."
Ambrose snorted mirthlessly. "Isn't it? I'm afraid, Your Highness, I don't know who I'm like anymore."
"You're not like Glitch," DG replied, her voice quivering and unshed tears in her eyes. Cain's hold had turned into a hug. "Glitch would never hurt Az like that."
Ambrose found himself shaking his head, in utter agreement with her. He looked up at Azkadellia, who simply stared back, leaning into her father's embrace. "I knew this was a bad idea," Cain whispered. Unfortunately, the acoustics in the area was excellent so Ambrose heard him. Cain looked over at him. "Should have just let you stay with your inventions."
Ambrose, who had now pulled himself up into a sitting position at least, jumped at the sound of Jeb's voice. "I'm starting to wonder..." the young man mused, up to now unobserved sitting on a nearby bench. He looked up at his father, then Ambrose. "Whether it's all worth it. What are we fighting for again? Justice? For what? Mom? She died quick. I mean... compared to some others I know... we've led a pretty charmed life. In a war, people die. She wasn't any different than anybody else."
"She was different. To us," Wyatt replied.
Jeb nodded. "Yeah... I just...This is worse than the Tin Suit. Least back then we always knew who that bad guys were."
"We're tired," The Queen decided. "I suggest we all get some rest."
DG gave her mother a weary smile. "'The sun always shines brighter in the morning'. Or suns. Whatever."
"What's going on outside?" DG asked after they began to move out. They went to the nearest window, where they spotted a large gathering of women heading towards the courthouse.
"Those are my witnesses," Devereux supplied, with a victorious grin.
Behind Lavender Eyes