This started in my head as Ambrose was a filthy traitor fic. Obviously it didn't stay that way. Ah, well. =)
Ambrose walked slowly up the stone steps, looking skyward at the orange and yellow canopy of leaves that arched over the path. The days were growing shorter and the gray sky beyond the leaves threatened snow. Fallen, dried up leaves rustled across the path in the chill and those not carried quickly enough across the way were crunched beneath the adviser's boots.
"Princess," He bowed when he reached the plateau at the stairway's top. The stone circle was ringed by trees that burned with autumn and released flickering embers onto the breeze.
"You don't have to be so formal with me, Ambrose," Azkadellia turned to face him and he straightened. She approached him and tucked a dark curl of hair behind his ear. He didn't smile. He hadn't smiled at her since… But he would do anything for the girl, and the girl would do as the witch bid her or the girl would surely suffer. "Have you considered my proposition?"
"Princess-"
She cleared her throat softly.
"Azkadellia," Ambrose amended. "You cannot ask this of me…"
"Ambrose," She whispered his name and looked pleadingly at him. "You must see reason," She reached out, taking his hands and holding them in her own. He looked away and Azkadellia appealed. "My mother can not be trusted to rule. She hasn't been fit since my sister died- you must be able to see that! Father could and he left and she handled that by banishing his name. I know that wasn't your advisement, you're far more reasonable than that."
"Azkadellia," He sounded weary, and the princess released his hands and grabbed his shoulders, wanting to shake him.
"Do you love the O.Z., Ambrose?"
"You know that I do."
"Then help me to save it!" She reached one hand up and placed it on his cheek. "Look around you; the world should be in bloom and instead everything is dieing. We haven't had a proper growing season in six years! People are starving and will she do anything to try and fix it? She hasn't yet. Why won't she use her magic anymore?"
Ambrose couldn't answer her, for he did not know. The queen kept so many secrets now… Azkadellia released him and turned her back, pacing away,
"She's losing her mind Ambrose, if it isn't gone already." She heard the soft footfall of him taking a step closer to her. "It hurts me as much if not more than it hurts you, but think of the O.Z.. You can choose to help me or you can choose to sit by and do nothing, but I think six years is grace period enough and either way you choose, I will act."
"I have not sat by and done nothing," His indignant tone caused Azkadellia to turn and look at him once more. "I have been hard at work trying to create something that will restore some semblance of order to the seasons, but unfortunately perfecting something like a sun seeder does not happen at the drop of a hat,"
"A sun seeder? What's a sun seeder?"
"Functioning, it will be able to slow and even stop and hold our orbit around the suns. It will extend the growing season back to what it was."
"It can stop orbits?" The look in her eyes caused Ambrose to take a step back. Was that hunger…?
"Yes," He spoke cautiously. "Once built and if given the right control sequences."
"A piece to the puzzle," She muttered feverishly. Just as was prophesized,
"What?" Ambrose took another step back.
Azkadellia looked sharply to him.
"When will you build it?"
"The plans aren't perfected," He remained careful. "A mistake could be catastrophic; it's not exactly something that can be tested. There are still calculations to be rechecked."
"How long will that take?"
"I can't say for sure."
"Ambrose," Her eyes were still bright with that fevered ecstasy. "Ambrose, help me- we can put things right again!"
"Azkadellia," He stepped forward and took her hands, looking her in the eyes. "I will not betray my queen." The statement was steady and sure. He was decided.
Azkadellia pulled her hands away with an expression of angry hurt.
"Then you betray me." She said coolly.
"Azkadellia… Az," His voice held the patient gentleness it so often had when she was a child. "Don't be afraid. It's taken time, and it will likely take more, but everything will be alright."
Azkadellia shook her head.
"I'm not afraid." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, but when she spoke again her tone strengthened and hardened. "You should be."
"Are you threatening me?" The gentleness was gone and replaced with bristling. "For all you speak of your mother changing and losing herself, I hardly recognize you."
It happened in a fast motion, Azkadellia moved to slap him and Ambrose caught her wrist, holding it between them.
"Princess, I always thought you were above tantrums." Ambrose said coldly. "I will not betray my queen." He released her. "You should know me better than that."
The girl wanted to wail and beg him to help her- to save her- but the witch held the expression cool and angry. She wanted to show him rage, to punish his defiance, but she needed to remain composed. She needed his invention. She would have it.
"Forgive me," She finally said, lowering her gaze. "The stress of all this…" She made a vague gesture around.
Ambrose shook his head.
"That doesn't excuse you." He spoke quietly but clearly. "Uncalled for acts of violence aren't especially becoming."
Azkadellia pursed her lips and nodded.
"I forgot myself."
"I suggest you remember."
She felt the prick of tears that belonged solely to the true princess, and gave a swift nod before brushing past him down the stairs.
Ambrose stood for a long time, feeling unsettled. As twilight fell, he made his way down the stairs with one thought plaguing him;
"What's become of you, Azkadellia?"