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...we still miss her, don't we?

Summary:

The triumvirate of Atlantis is down to two.

Work Text:

It was quiet in the palace. A little too quiet for his tastes, although... there never had been much noise at this time of the day, in this section of the right wing. And maybe that was why she had used to sit here so often, he mused – to have some peace and quiet after a busy day.

She... yes, he knew the deafening silence was coming from his own mind, caused by his own pained feelings. This silence wasn't the absence of sound, but of a person.

“So this is where you went,” a mechanical voice spoke up behind him.

“This used to be one of her favourite places,” he answered without glancing towards the newcomer.

“Is there any reason you're telling me that?” heavy, metallic steps that didn't carry the rhythm of human feet approached closer. “How does it matter now?”

“Do not pretend, Qualopec,” Tihocan finally turned to him, voice soft. “I see the way you walk around the palace, avoiding hallways leading to her rooms and laboratories, even if it takes twice as much time to reach your destination.”

“I do not wish to gaze upon anything that would remind me of the traitor, that is all.”

“Is it? Is that all?” Tihocan swept his hand slowly over the window sill, coming to rest on the drape. He could feel a hard object behind it and reached beyond the heavy fabric, pulling out a book which had a bookmark about two thirds in. She had always had a habit of leaving her books all over the palace.

She was never going to finish this one though.

“Yes, that is all,” Qualopec said. With long years of practice, Tihocan could tell that behind the mask, his co-ruler was looking at the book.

Neither said anything for a while. Tihocan opened the book at the marked part, but his eyes were unfocused and didn't register the words.

“What would you want me to say?” Qualopec spoke again. “That we were wrong? That we should have dealt with her differently? Even if that were true, it is too late! It was the right decision at that time and having regrets will serve no purpose.”

“At that time?” Tihocan repeated. “It has barely been a month… We felt betrayed, we acted in a heat of passion-”

“It was the right decision,” Qualopec reiterated with emphasis. “We had to do something quickly and she was too dangerous to give her any leeway in anything.”

Tihocan snapped the book shut. “Maybe. But maybe not. We acted too rashly to really assess all options.”

Qualopec took another step closer. “And now? Did you spend the past month “assessing all options”? I just told you there is no purpose in such thoughts.”

“And you spent the past month pretending nothing at all happened, or maybe that she never existed,” Tihocan countered, eyes turned towards his hand, caressing the book cover. “Are you afraid what you might discover if you start thinking about it?”

“There is no. Purpose. In it. Anymore,” Qualopec said for the third time.

“There might not be,” Tihocan raised his gaze to him. “But is it so wrong to admit this?”

“Admit what?” Qualopec asked, but there was no doubt he already knew and there was no heat in his voice anymore. Tihocan couldn't really bring himself to consider it a victory. This was a loss. For everyone.

“That we still miss her.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don't we?”

Qualopec reached out and took the book from Tihocan's hands. He flipped through it absent-mindedly, closing it again. Then he stepped towards the window and placed it with gentle care back behind the drape. He walked off without a word.

Tihocan watched him leave, and after running his palm over the window sill one last time, he departed too.

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