amedia

ladynyks asked for "Crossover with Hellboy: The Golden Army. (Maybe) Ambrose or Glitch sparring or fighting with a realm-visiting Prince Nuada pre-series?" She had also recently posted a tantalizing piece (Silence is Golden), in which Princess Nuala visits the O.Z. and alludes to her brother Nuada's visit many years earlier, which Glitch remembers less than fondly. So I used that as a bit of a springboard.

"It's really very simple," Nuada said to the director of the palace infirmary. "You don't tell anyone that I've been visiting, and I let everyone believe that you recognized the Venenian poison on your own and formulated an antidote yourself, without any assistance from me."

An old hand at political dealings herself, the director recognized a good deal when she heard one. "Very good, Prince Nuada." She hesitated for a moment. "When you say not to tell anyone, does that include Prince Ambrose?"

Nuada fixed her with a cold stare. "Especially Prince Ambrose," he said.

She nodded and withdrew, leaving him sitting alone by Ambrose's bedside. Someone unfamiliar with the poison and its antidote would have believed there was no change, but Nuada could tell that the Queen's handsome younger brother was breathing more easily, and that a faint trace of color was returning to his pale cheeks. [Funny how when humans look normal to me, it means they're deathly ill.]

The prince had had other visitors, of course. His little nieces had been allowed in for a few minutes, and left a card on the nightstand, carefully lettered "GET WELL UNCLE BROSY" by the older one, with a crayoned picture of an epee dripping with blood by the younger one. Ambrose's sister, the Queen, was away on a diplomatic mission but sent a message that she would return as soon as decently possible; in the meantime, her husband had been stopping by nearly as often as Nuada, though more briefly.

Not for the first time, Nuada wondered who in the Queen's court had slipped up. How was it that no one had realized that Venenian courtiers earned promotions by assassinating foreign dignitaries? No one seemed to suspect that the visitor's invitation to Ambrose to join him in a practice round of fencing was anything more than flattery, or that the scratch Ambrose received when the point guard fell off was anything other than an accident. It was Nuada who had realized what was going on; without his help, Ambrose would have died and the assassin would have strolled away undetected.

The thought of Ambrose dying sent an unexpected pang through Nuada's heart, and he allowed himself another glance at the still figure on the bed. A good fighter, he privately admitted, nimble and clever, though still a trifle too cocky; Nuada made a point of kicking him whenever he let his guard down, and Ambrose did seem to be improving. Nuada was careful to show no preference, certainly no affection; he could not afford a romantic entanglement to complicate his future plans. If only he could allow himself ... he put his hand momentarily on Ambrose's, pretending even to himself to be checking the pulse.

Ambrose would never know that Nuada had visited him daily, staying longer than any of the family. But everyone had seen that it was Nuada who caught the collapsing Ambrose as the poison took effect, Nuada who had cried out for the medics and the guards, who had pointed out the assassin before he could get away, who had cradled the unconscious prince in his arms until the stretcher bearers carefully lifted him away.

He would just have to hope that Ambrose wouldn't remember.