Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The bench beneath them was cool, despite the warm rays of the setting sun on their backs. Few people remained on the upper level on the wall. Many of the spaces on top of the once cold and militaristic wall were steadily converted into community spaces for the Kingdom. What was once designed to stand strong as a barrier to acceptance, was now expanded into a place for all citizens to play, work, and gaze at the magnificent view beyond their city.

Ballister leaned further into Ambrosius as if to feign a chill from the early autumn air.

They sat in silence for several more minutes. Enjoying the moment alone - or mostly alone - with not much more than the sound of the light buzzing of children playing in the distance and birds settling down for the evening. The park they were in now was close to the passageway through the wall, blown away by the reflected canon blast many months ago. The opening to the world outside of the wall was a constant reminder of what was, and what the future held. A past full of rigid beliefs and views that quite literally almost destroyed them, the kingdom and all its citizens. And for what? Because they were afraid of breaking down their own prejudice towards those they saw as different? A threat that was wholly fabricated yet believed until it became a suffocating institution of veiled hatred and brutality.

Ambrosius still had a difficult time working through his own part in it all. A conservative establishment that he himself was born into and fought to uphold as best as he could in the name of being a Goldenloin.

To think, this all started with his ancestors. And he, of all people, would be the one to see the end of it.

“Rose?”

Ambrosius hummed in return, not quite finding the words to respond as his mind drew back to the present moment.

“It’s getting late, we should head home.” Ballister pointed out, pulling away from Ambrosius as he sat up straight.

Home

Warmth spread through Ambrosius at the mention of home. Their home. Sure, it was just his apartment. The same small apartment he worked hard to procure right before the end of their training. Before the wall fell and before the Knighting Ceremony. Before it felt like both their worlds imploded into themselves and scattered across the Kingdom in a million pieces. Leaving them fighting for their lives and their love. A love that took months to pull back together with therapy, tears, fights, and compassion.

“Oh?” Ambrosius questioned, his tone turning playful. “I was thinking we could stay up here tonight. It’s quiet, peaceful, romantic even. We can see all the stars from here, you know.”

Ballister turned to look at him, clearly catching onto his game and giving him a playful shove.

“As romantic as that sounds, I would much rather cuddle up on the couch with a bowl of ice cream. Besides, that new movie is on tonight. About the werewolves – you do remember, right?” The confused look Ambrosius gave him told him that he did not in fact remember. “It’s movie night and I get to pick the movie.” Ballister said proudly.

“Ah yes,” Ambrosius replied back, “the werewolves of...what was it again...Cerstania?”

“Cerstonia. The Werewolves of Cerstonia.”

“You and your cheater horror movies, Bal.” Ambrosius was standing up now and helping Ballister up with a hand.

“You love my movies, don’t pretend otherwise.”

Their banter paused for a moment as Ambrosius leaned in, his face inching closer to Ballister. His hand never left the one he pulled his boyfriend up with.

“Not as much as I love you.” Ambrosius breathed softly. His voice burning with endearment and a hint of passion.

Lightly at first, Ballister closed the gap between them. His lips finding Ambrosius in the fading light like a practiced promise. Gaining in intensity until a small shred of reality hit him, making him pull away with a blush, leaving Ambrosius wanting for more. Perhaps here wasn’t the best place to make out.

They were in public after all.

“Let's go home, loverboy.” Ballister muttered as he tugged Ambrosius along towards the air lift that would take them back down to street level.

As they stepped into the lift, Ballister tapped the control panel to close the door to begin their descent. The view from their location on top of the wall gave a bittersweet viewpoint into the core of the Kingdom. Leading up the main highway to the reforming Institution, the buildings that were slowly but steadily nearing the end of their repairs, and the Gloreth statue that still stood tall as petitions made their rounds for it to be dismantled and melted down into a phoenix - a memorial to Nimona.

Ambrosius felt the uneasy shift in Ballister’s body as he stared out the glass windows of the lift that was quickly going down. Giving a small squeeze to his boyfriend's hand was enough to snap him out of his thoughts, evident by the reassuring look that Ballister gave him. Hopeful by all accounts that perhaps Nimona would come back, while still accepting that her sacrifice was finite even for her abilities. They only spoke of her ‘coming back’ once before in therapy together. That session ended up entangled in Ballister’s understanding of ‘what’ Nimona was and the limits of her capabilities, and Ballister in tears over his own actions that led to her rampage.

After that day they both agreed to never bring up the subject of Nimona and the things he said to her without being in the presence of their therapist.

There were a lot of things they still needed to work on, both together and separate. But for now, they were together, and that alone was something that they desired more than anything. The wounds would heal in time as they supported each other. The foundation of their relationship there to hold them steady no matter what happened in the past or what was to come.

Softly, the air lift made landfall to the street below. Sunlight that once glowed at their backs now obscured by the wall, casting a long shadow across a quarter of the Kingdom. The sliding door clicked open as it moved to the side for them to step out onto the brick walkway. The air was cooler at street level as they hustled back towards their apartment several blocks away.

Ballister noticed Ambrosius glancing up to the sky as the shadows of the night took over.

“Hey,” Ballister turned to Ambrosius, noticing the way that the darkness danced across his face, “I know a shortcut that’ll get us home quicker.”

Humming back at him, Ambrosius mulled over the idea for a moment. “A short cut?”

Ballister’s answer was to jump to the side of the road quickly to push back a few crates that blocked what looked like a makeshift wall of wood planks and sheets of plastic. Pulling one of the sheets to the side, Ballister expertly wiggled a few of the boards free, revealing a rather small but walkable path on the other side.

“You want me to go in there?” Ambrosius asked slowly as Ballister beamed back at him.

“It’s perfectly safe.”

Ambrosius’ first reaction was to argue that that did not in fact look safe. At all. In all honesty it looked unsafe at best to sneak around inside some closed off alleyway.

Seeing his apprehension Ballister offered a little more reassurance to his boyfriend, “This path will take us through an old forest up behind the apartment complex. It’s totally safe, I used to go this way all the time when I was on the run-” Ballister heaved the wood boards to the side some more, “this will cut our walk in half. Otherwise we have to go around the block. So, what do you think? Wanna give it a try?”

Did he want to give it a try? Not entirely, if Ambrosius was being honest with himself.

Sensing the need for more consolation Ballister offered one more question. “Do you trust me, Rose?”

Trust. That was something that Ambrosius couldn’t deny. Even after everything they had been through, trust and honesty was the foundation to their relationship - heck, it was the glue that held them together even as it felt like everything was falling apart.

“Of course I trust you, Bal.” His answer came out sounding much more vulnerable than he intended. Ballister took notice of that, holding his hand out to beckon Ambrosius closer.

Making up his mind, Ambrosius nodded, more for himself, carefully taking Ballister’s hand to be pulled closer to the darkness behind the makeshift path against the wall.

The shift from the slightly lit road outside to the dark and damp interior alley – a tunnel, really – was much more abrupt than Ambrosius expected. The echoing of their footsteps bounced off the stones around them as Ballister led him with a practiced confidence. A confidence that tugged at Ambrosius’ heart with grief. Ballister knew his way because of him-

No. Ambrosius would not allow himself to ruminate about the past. It wasn’t healthy for him or Ballister to engage in self pity.

The tunnel was surprisingly clear of obstacles, leading Ambrosius to believe that Ballister wasn’t the only one that knew about it. And although the lack of light made it challenging to see where he was stepping, the ground was level enough to keep from stumbling. That, along with Ballister’s unwavering guidance was enough to keep him moving. Plus, he didn’t want to spend any more time in a hidden tunnel that smelled like wet dirt and stagnant air any longer than needed.

Luckily it didn’t take long for Ballister to stop in front of a large piece of plywood leaning against the tunnel wall, soft light from the other side leaking around a corner of the board was his only hint of a way out.

Pulling at the makeshift wooden door, light spilled in around the edges, illuminating Ballister’s figure. Filtered as it may be, and certainly not direct light, the small glow was a welcomed sight for Ambrosius.

Hefting the wood to the side in order to hold it open, Ballister turned to Ambrosius with a slight grin, "After you."

Taking a moment to peer outside of the tunnel, Ambrosius carefully stepped up over a rocky threshold and into a very wooded lot behind a line of buildings. The trees were much larger than those in the inner city, hinting at their old age, with brush taking up the majority of the ground space. To his delight, the way out of the tunnel led to a path through the trees. A once well worn and likely used trail that was now long abandoned. Even so, the hints and markings were clear enough to stay the course.

"So this is how you snuck around?" Ambrosius asked lightly, swallowing down the funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Sometimes. There aren't any cameras here, so it made for a good cover." He paused for a second before continuing, "this was one of the best ways to and from my lair." That last word hung in the air momentarily. Ambrosius could feel that Ballister wanted to say more about the subject but wouldn’t.

Memories, perhaps? Ambrosius knew that 'the lair' was aptly named by Nimona. A term that grew on Ballister during their time together.

"You knights were pretty bad at tracking me." The subject changed abruptly, Ballister's mood swinging to something more playful as they walked down the dirt path. Weeds and tall grasses brushing just below their knees.

"You Knights? Ha, trying to wrangle any of those cadets together was like herding cats, Bal." Ambrosius joked back, a smile on his face as he recalled the Institution's shoddy teamwork.

They were quiet for a bit. Their footsteps the only sound as the grass rustled beneath their feet. Although unlit by street lamps, the wooded trees gained enough glow from the distant buildings to light their way under the quickly fading sky.

Supporting each other as they walked down the path which widened to the left, further away from the glow of human activity.

Taking a moment to squint in the darkness, Ambrosius studied the change of scenery, noting several rows of trees in the clearing.

"Are those... fruit trees?" Unsure of what he was looking at, Ambrosius walked closer to them. Small red fruit hanging on some of the higher branches. "Apple trees?"

"Oh yeah. This time of year a lot of the lower fruits have been picked off by wildlife.” Pausing a moment as if he was remembering an old friend, Ballister turned to look at Ambrosius. “This was that old farm we used to sneak off to as kids, remember?”

“Wait, this?” It hardly looked like it did when he was thirteen. In fact, Ambrosius couldn’t make out much through the overgrown vines and weeds to make heads or tails of anything other than the aging fruit trees.

“There isn’t a lot left,” Ballister mentioned, picking up on the uncertainty in Ambrosius’ voice. “Over there is an old shed where I picked out a few pieces of copper, melted them down for my arm.” As lighthearted as he tried to keep the statement he knew it would come off slightly unhinged for Ambrosius. Changing the subject quickly he pointed through the treeline. “Back there is the main shed where they used to house the apples. It’s falling apart now, of course.”

“I guess I never thought about what became of this place…” Ambrosius mulled over, doing his best not to think about Ballister rummaging around this place alone. “After the Director caught us I never did come back.”

They both laughed softly at the old memory. For several years they enjoyed sneaking out of the Institute to see the Kingdom outside of the inner city. It was nothing new to Ballister of course, but to Ambrosius, it was like a whole new world.

“Remember how I had to convince you to come out here with me?” Ballister was teasing him now with a soft punch to his shoulder.

“Hey!” Ambrosius giggled at the playful hit. “Yeah, you had to convince me that ‘a knight has to be practiced in covert movements’, or something like that. I never really did believe you.”

“I know you didn’t.” Holding onto several picked apples, Ballister turned back to the trail that led to their apartment. “Come on, it’s already dark enough. We can come back tomorrow and reminisce all you want. Plus, I’m pretty sure my movie started.”

Chapter Text

“It’s sad to know that the farm was left to fall apart like that.” As best as he tried, Ambrosius couldn’t stop thinking about their walk last night. Especially when that farm was one of the first places he explored outside of the safety of the inner city. Not that anything ever happened to him out there, Ballister made sure of that. His parents on the other hand would have had a cow if they knew he was always sneaking off as a kid. Thankfully, the Director promised not to tell on him when she found out even though she did voice her disappointment in him. Either way, it did steer him straight for a few years.

Ballister agreed with a nod and hum. “From what I heard, the man that owned the farm ended up sick, and his son didn’t want the responsibility of a business.”

The early morning sun was shining through their living room windows, the angle much lower this late in the year.

“So he left it to rot.” For some reason the idea of a perfectly good business being abandoned didn’t sit right with him.

“This one, yes. From what I’ve heard around the construction crews working outside the wall, the son started a new farm in one of the new sectors. There is a lot more space out there for agriculture. More money to be made would be my guess.”

“Right now that space is all overgrown trees. It’s not like there is much being done now.” Ambrosius got up to go fill his coffee mug again, trying to make sense of his agitation.

“No, I suppose not. I’m sure he’ll make more profit outside the wall than within. There isn’t a lot of space there to begin with, eighty acres at best if I were to guess. Even then that would mean clearing out a lot of trees and starting anew.”

Ballister wasn’t sure what Ambrosius was hung up on. Sure, that space could be useful for many things. In time, he was sure someone would buy it, level it, and build homes or a mall there. Space was never wasted inside the Kingdom. There was so little space for expansion before as it was. Now the promise of untouched land outside of the wall was drawing many businesses.

“Eighty acres sounds like more than enough.” Ambrosius huffed, not ready to give it up.

Sunlight danced across the wall and coffee table, reflecting up off the glass and around the room. Even worked up, Ballister looked at him like the most important person in the Kingdom.

He was, in a way.

Sitting down, Ambrosius shuffled around in his armchair, wiggling around until he was comfortable again and catching the look on Ballister’s face.

“What?” He feigned, a smile tugging at his lips. “See something you like?”

The smug look on his boyfriend’s face was enough to tug Ballister back to reality. “More than you know,” he countered. Taking the playful yet tense moment in silence as he waited to see if Ambrosius would jump across the table to tackle him or keep talking about the old farm.

“Keep that up. I’ll pay you back later.”

“Keep what up?” Ballister was messing with him now and he knew it.

“You know exactly what you’re doing! Just the way you look at me is enough to draw me in.” Ambrosius was waving his arm around in a circle as Ballister laughed at him.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence in a way that felt far too normal after what they went through in the last year.

“I’ve been thinking” Ambrosius led in, quietly yet thoughtful. Ballister sat back waiting for him to continue. “Hear me out, I know how crazy I’m going to sound. What if – you and me – we took over the farm?”

Unsure of what to think, Ballister looked at him, confused. “You’re right, you do sound crazy.”

“No, no, hear me out- It’s a lot. I know it is. And there is a lot of work that would need to be done. But what if we could fix it up?”

“Ambrosius, I don’t know anything about farming. I can barely keep a houseplant alive.” He was being honest. The last time either of them had live plants in their apartment, they all died after they forgot to water them for four weeks.

“That’s different. Ok maybe, I’m not really sure. But it rains outside, so we wouldn’t have to water the fruit trees, right?”

“Right. You’ve got me there.” The idea was absurd, that he was sure of. “What about money? I don’t know how much that property would go for. And I’m sure I don’t have enough to cover the cost. There’s no way.”

Ballister had him there. Sure he was still a Goldenloin, and as such his family had quite a bit of money. Granted even he might not be able to cover the cost of something that large easily.

“I’m sure it would be a lot. There are loans though- and grants! Right now with all the repairs going on I’m sure we could get approved for an agriculture loan.”

The idea of taking on a project this large was enough to overwhelm Ballister. Where would they even start? And why would they?

“Ambrosius,” Ballister waited for his boyfriend to look at him, “why this?” His tone was soft as he asked. There were so many other things that they could be doing with their time other than old fruit trees and several abandoned buildings. The only link to this farm was their childhood, and even that was fleeting at best.

“I just,” he wasn’t sure where to begin, “we need to find something to do now, don’t we? We aren’t really knights anymore. Sure there’s the police force and we still have our titles. But there aren’t monsters out there, not like we were taught.” He paused a second, recalling his childhood and chosen path. As the descendant of Gloreth, it was his duty to train and fight the horrors outside the wall. He always hoped he would never have to go outside the wall to find them, and Gloreth knows he prayed they would never get inside. It was a strange predicament that he always found himself in while growing up. Keep the Kingdom safe from creatures that none of them had ever seen yet surely did exist.

“There is a lot we could do other than a farm.” Ballister jumped back in.

“Sure, I know that.” Ambrosius brushed the comment aside softly. “There are so many people that need help. What if we could help them?”

“Do you think we could?” His apprehension was palpable. Never had he imagined a world where he was thinking of taking over an old farm. A knight? Sure. Years of hard work that at times felt like nothing to show for it. But a farm? That was out of his comfort zone.

“I don't see why not.” Ambrosius carefully placed his almost empty coffee mug down on the table. “Besides, Bal, I'll be there to help you. I'm sure other people will as well. This isn't just for us, it would be for the community.”

Ambrosius was right about that. This wouldn't be to make a profit. Staying above water is of course necessary, as long as they could manage that - this endeavor would be for the Kingdom.

“We'd have to ask if it’s even for sale. We don't know if they plan on selling that land. I'm not sure how much of it is included.”

Their radio in the background switched to commercials, leaving Ambrosius with no choice but to tune it out as an annoying ad for an old soda brand he used to advertise for switched up. Huffing at the slight annoyance of the carbonated beverage and the fact that he was absolutely aboard the farm idea - even though Ballister was clearly not quite there yet - he stood up, taking his mug with him as he walked to the kitchen to wash it out.

“I'll ask around if you want. There might be some postings up at City Hall. Only if you want me too.”

Ambrosius made sure to tack that on at the end. This would need to be a team effort if it were to work. If Ballister didn't feel 100% into the idea then he would shelf it.

Silence fell between them for a few moments, the running sink and a quick cereal advertisement over the old boom box as ambient noise.

“I think I know the farmer's son.” Ballister quietly mentioned, almost low enough that Ambrosius almost missed it as he turned off the water. “While helping a repair crew last week near the Exterior Wall I talked with a man who mentioned his father owned some old land near there. I guess it peaked my interest seeing as I was using that area to hide for some time - while on the run, you know? I can see what he knows.”

The Exterior Crew - as it was so aptly named - was steadily growing as more people became curious about life outside the wall. Most of the crew was busy repairing and stabilizing the hole created by the explosion that saved the city - when Nimona saved the city. Now that monsters were no longer a threat, as they never were, more people were working to expand outside the wall. More land meant more opportunities to farm and gather resources that were once highly unobtainable. Even now wood and bricks were in short supply when it came to repairing the damage that the Institution caused when they attacked their own city.

Although Ambrosius didn’t voice his excitement past that, Ballister could tell he was waiting with baited breath. They both knew that their lives as the savior knights they were raised to be was over. Right now they were simply going day by day trying to find a place to fit in or help out as needed.

Heading out for the day, Ballister gave Ambrosius one last kiss before catching a bus across town where he walked the last mile to where he was stationed that day. Ambrosius, on the other hand, was off but promised to check out the open bids on land and what was for sale down at City Hall.

Hefting an armful of debris into the back of a hover truck, Ballister smacked the dirt off his gloves, seeing now as good an opportunity than ever to ask.

“Hey, Mike,” Turning to the brown-haired man next to him, Ballister watched as a new empty truck slowly flew down to their work site to replace the full one. “You wouldn't happen to know Mr.Tillstone, would you? He owns land on the East side of the Kingdom near the river.”

“Hm?” Perking up, Mike turned to Ballister. “Jared Tillstone? That's my dad, well, was my dad. He passed away last year.”

This conversation was quickly going someplace that Ballister was not anticipating.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.”

“No worries. My dad lived a full life. He was always proud of his work.” Mike's accent was pretty strong, vowels blending together in a typical Danks accent. Something that Ballister himself had to grow out of once he started training at the Institute, the accent was looked down upon by many in the Institution as being ‘lesser than’. Something Ballister never understood as a child, but was quick to remedy as he fought to fit in.

Sidestepping a push cart, Ballister helped Mike lift what looked like an old busted pallet into the truck bed. “Manual labor isn't easy, but it's honest work. So, were there plans? With the land? He had an old farm there, didn't he?”

“He did.” Mike was quick to nod, the look on his face looking unsure. “Plan was to sell it. Institution had their eye on it, so I heard. I'm not so sure now. Seems like they backed out after everything that went down. I haven't listed it, been thinking of it.” He said, looking around at all the work they've done, with much more left to do.

“I see.” Years ago Ballister could see the Institution wanting that land. Space was a high price commodity inside the wall and that land backed right up to their campus. Now? The need for expansion wasn't a priority.

“Besides, I planned on putting in for some land outside the wall when the city opens their bidding. More space out there anyways.”

“I see.”

Mike tossed a scrap clump of melted pipes into the truck, pausing for a moment to look at Ballister. “I know it’s none of my business but were you and Sir Goldenloin looking for land? It’s not set up for residential living. If it were for you though I wouldn’t mind letting it go.”

That comment perked Ballister up. Partly because hearing Ambrosius called ‘Sir Goldenloin’ felt weird when the whole Kingdom now knew they were together. ‘Dating’ sounded, well, dated at their age but they were as together as a couple could be without crossing into marriage. If all went right Ballister hoped that they would get there eventually when they both were ready.

More so, the fact that Mike would even be willing to sell the land to him and Ambrosius knowing that they might level it for a home was flattering. Granted he wouldn’t dare to destroy it. Many of the trees were still good, the buildings needed work and a few might need to be torn down. But he wanted nothing more that to keep that space as available to the public as possible.

Now thinking about it, Ballister felt almost excited at the thought of being a business owner. In a strange ‘I have no idea where to begin or where I’m going’ way.

“If I’m being honest, it was Ambrosius that proposed the idea. Not for a house, but to keep it as is. Or as close as possible.” Ballister accepted a bottle of water from a worker handing them out and chugged half of it in one go.

“I’ve got nothing better to do with that land now. It’s sentimental, of course, but if you could make use of it, I’d rather see that than for it to sit, ya know?.”

Having not expected much, Ballister went home that day with more news than he anticipated. Having been placed in the same team with the man that owned the land was one thing but that man being willing to sell it to him was another. Granted no numbers were mentioned, as he was sure loans would need to be procured.

“I found nothing.” Ambrosius sounded almost defeated. “Well, not nothing, I did find out that the farm is part of plot 23, which was to be sold off a few years ago. It was put on hold for some reason and taken off the auction block.”

They had agreed to meet at a park outside of a nearby library once they were both done for the day. Finding it easier to unwind with a nice dinner from a small stand in the park. Well, nicer than what it would have been if they both went home and crashed instead. Otherwise they would be lucky if they managed a pack of instant noodles for dinner before passing out.

Compared to that, these plates of fries and hamburgers were a gourmet meal.

“Sounds like I had more luck than you did then.” Ballister was picking through his fries in order to savor the extra crunchy ones first. “I was able to talk to the man that owns the land today, he inherited it from his father. There aren't any real plans for it, I guess.”

Ambrosius was leaning forward as if to better his hearing. “So you're saying it's not a done deal. Whatever that deal is.”

“I'm saying the land isn't called for right now, at the very least.” He dipped a fry into ketchup, enjoying the salty sweet flavor.

“We have a chance then?” Ambrosius asked, sitting up as possibilities filled his mind.

“Maybe? I think so. I didn't tell him that we would be interested completely - not yet, anyways. I mean, even if we did decide to do this, how would we get the money? I don't have that kind of cash saved up. And I can't believe that a bank would just give out a loan to someone like me for a farm – I'm not a farmer!” Ballister’s tone was sharp yet inquisitive.

Ambrosius nodded along still trying to wrap his head around the logistics. Even if they did get a loan, they really didn't know much about owning a business or growing food. Sure, the land space wouldn't be enough for a large farm, but they could fix up one of the buildings into a store front of sorts.

“I don't think it would strictly be for a farm - the loan, I mean - there could be more.” Now Ambrosius was fighting with a packet of ketchup, ripping it open only to get some on his arm. Ballister was quick to grab a napkin and hand it to his boyfriend.

“More? How so?” He was curious and open to ideas, this was only speculation still. They could try to get a loan, but should they? Would they really want to do this? Sure the idea was slowly growing on him and it would give them something to do that would benefit everyone.

“It could be anything we want really.” Ambrosius wiped at the splash of ketchup on his arm. “A farm, a store front, a cafe, heck, what about a petting zoo?”

“A petting zoo? I know you've always liked animals but now you want a zoo?” The idea was a little outlandish to Ballister, seemingly a little wild for his tastes, but perhaps it could be fun. They were simply bouncing ideas around after all. Right? Only ideas.

“A small one. Like maybe a few goats? That could be fun.”

“Like the goats they used to have there when we were little?”

“Exactly like them!”

Now a french fry smacked Ambrosius in the cheek, a sly smile on Ballister’s face as he readied another.

They finished off their meals while brainstorming. They would want to start small and build their way up that way they didn’t take on more than they could handle. And even then they both agreed it would likely be overwhelming at times until they got into a rhythm. Again, it was all hypothetical. Even as they both grew attached to the idea of owning a business.

As they made their way home, Ambrosius promised to check on a few grants that he came across for start ups and loans that centered around rebuilding the Kingdom. None were guaranteed, but any monetary help would be appreciated.

The way they spoke on the way home made it sound as if it were a done deal, both countering each other with a plan or a work around to make things work. Their suggestions slowly dwindled into silence as they basked in the joy that such a business could bring. Food, job opportunities, volunteer work, job skills, a place for artisans and crafters to sell their goods. The directions they could take were endless.

Chapter Text

Instead of sleeping when they returned home, Ballister spent most of his night looking up various books on agriculture, farming, fruit trees, and modern growing techniques. Luckily, he found several books at a local library and marked them for pick up the next day. Ambrosius on the other hand poured over the financial side of their predicament. Coming across online courses was easy enough, even if he couldn't validate how useful they would be and bookmarked them for later. Practically every link for ‘owning a business’, ‘business finance’, ‘loans for business owners’, and ‘how much does a farm cost?’ were skimmed or clicked in fear of missing something useful.

Early morning came with only a few hours of shut eye before Ballister took off for the day to catch up with Mike at work, hopeful that Mike would share whatever knowledge he could with him.

Ambrosius was ‘between jobs’, as he called it. The last project he was working on to help repair several roads was complete, until he received word of any extra needed assistance he was free to do as he pleased. Most former knights and Kingdom police signed up for the rebuilding efforts after much of the Institution was dissolved and reorganized. As of late most work was complete, leaving him with too much free time on his hands.

Which, if he was being honest, led him to this crazy and outlandish idea of taking on the farm. It was a project of sorts. A project that Ballister and himself could take on together and own. Giving them something to show for their efforts that would belong to them.

If this didn’t work out – and he was dead set on making sure it would – he would need to apply for a part-time job at the very least. As a Goldenloin, he still had access to plenty of money if he pleased. But fame and fortune was never his thing. Hating to lean on his bloodline, he always prided himself on supporting himself, and now Ballister, without needing to fall back on a trust fund.

It didn’t take long for Ambrosius to submit several forms at the city hall asking for loan information and taking extra packets of materials on available grants.

Making a quick stop at the library he grabbed the books Ballister marked for pick up, sighing at the weight of the two dozen publications that he had to carry home. Was this overkill? Maybe. Ballister was nothing if not thorough though. And that bode well for him as it meant Ballister was taking this seriously as well.

Ambrosius was busy stacking the books on the dining room table and listening to a local news station on TV when Ballister arrived home, the sound of the front door making Ambrosius jump slightly.

“You’re home early.” The moment Ballister was in eyesight Ambrosius quickly relaxed, taking note of the time on the television.

“They released us from the project. Not much else is left to do over there.” Noticing the books, Ballister perked up and swiftly made a beeline for them, sorting them into stacks and grabbing a large blue one to flip through.

“Nothing left, hm? Well, that’s good, right?”

Ballister shrugged, “Suppose so. I couldn’t get my mind off the farm. Might as well be working on this if it’s all I can think about.”

“That sounds good to me.” Ambrosius was practically beaming at that remark. If anyone knew how hardworking and diligent Ballister was, it was him. He watched Ballister work his way up through the ranks as a child until he was top of his class. Once Ballister set his mind to something, he could make it happen. It might take a while but he always found a way. His goal to be a knight was still founded, after Nimona saved the Kingdom he was granted the title. While they technically realized their dream, the mission had changed. There were no monsters. Knights were no longer a necessity. Now they both found themselves with no real direction or aspiration.

Maybe, just maybe, they both really needed this.

“Oh, Mike is willing to show us how to take care of the apple trees – if we even buy the farm that is. I might be putting the cart before the horse and all but if we want this to work we will need all the help we can get.”

“I’ll take any help at this rate. But I’m glad he’d take the time to mentor us.” Ambrosius was doing his best not to look too excited even if he was mentally celebrating a small win. Ballister was right, they had to buy the farm first. Only then would the rest of their planning make sense.

Flipping through the book in his hand Ballister pointed out a picture to show to Ambrosius.

“Mike was really excited to share growing techniques with me today before we were sent home. He was surprised when I told him the old trees over there were still producing apples. According to him, those trees are at a point that he would rip them out to plant a new crop.”

“Rip them out? That sounds destructive.” The look on Ambrosius’ face went sour at the idea. “If they are still growing apples then why would you rip them out?”

“The way he explained it, those trees are so old that they aren’t guaranteed to keep producing. Besides, farming is all about making a profit – or at least breaking even if you can help it. Worst case you lose money…” Trailing off Ballister seemed to be thinking about something before he refocused. “Mike said that modern growing practices involve trellising apple trees now. Like this here-” He pointed to several pictures across the open pages of the book. “By doing this you gain more yield per acre. And they’re easier to pick because they’re lower to the ground.”

Looking at the images, Ambrosius could follow that logic. Even so, to rip out good trees? Sure some were dead or dying.

“We don’t have to tear them all out.” Ballister assured. “We can keep them for the first few years. We’ll need to spend a lot of time fixing up the main building anyways. Anything to do with the crops might need to really wait until the following year.”

Nodding along, Ambrosius continued to watch as Ballister flipped through the pages, images of various farm tractors and equipment graced the pages with descriptions of their uses, some looked to be long phased out for more modern hover vehicles and robotic equipment but he could appreciate the history.

As weeks passed, they agreed that Ballister would take up overseeing the refurbishing of the buildings including blueprints and designs. He always was quite handy, able to repair and fix much of his own armor gear mainly out of necessity. As much as Ambrosius hated to think about it, the Institution never treated Ballister as an equal. Ballister, having realized that very young, took it upon himself to learn. A real handy man of sorts that Ambrosius always found attractive.

Within a month's time they set up several requests down at the City Hall, looking for grants, loans, anything to help negate the purchase cost. Granted, Mike gave them a great deal. It was still horribly more than either of them were prepared for, but far below the going rate that his family would have received if sold to the City. They were, of course, grateful for that. Even if the monetary amount was nothing to laugh at. To their surprise, it didn’t take long for several organizations to donate small denominations toward their cause. Adding up to a good chunk of change that allowed them to make the down payment several weeks later.

That initial payment – simply to prove that they could afford the property – normally wouldn’t have been enough for the bank to approve the rest of the debt uncovered. In the end, they claimed it as a gesture of good will. Ambrosius and Ballister knew that their ranks and heroic accomplishments weighed heavily on that decision. Something that Ballister very much lamented on. Ambrosius knew that Ballister hated the fact that his status and past would grant him contributions more than his capability. After a few conversations they were both able to conclude that the gifts were because of his competence, which led to his accomplishments and reputation.

As sour as Ballister felt about it at times, he did agree that this was required for them to get to their end goal. A goal that both grew to anticipate with baited breath and excitement. The outcome felt shaky at best as they crossed various barriers and difficulties in the process – growing pains, that they learned to joke and laugh about in order to make the process more tolerable.

Once the first payment was made Mike began the process to transfer ownership of the property over. Even this process was fast lined through the banks between both parties almost instantly. What was usually a months-long process took only a few weeks. The money Mike received went towards his new project outside the wall, while Ambrosius and Ballister found themselves with a property deed in hand.

The decision was made to get started on rebuilding what they could immediately with hopes that they would have something viable in the next year. An undertaking that their mentor, Mike, agreed on. The trees that they wanted to keep would need to be pruned and prepared for the next season if they had any hope of making use of them.

The first trip back to the property as proper landowners was planned on a Saturday, when both Ambrosius and Ballister were off from work. Even the work agency they were paired with started cutting back their hours. Not as a punishment – as they did have enough money to live comfortably – but in good will to give them the time needed to take up their new venture.

As Ballister carefully landed their hover bike onto a wooded path, he made sure to keep it in sight of the building they had chosen as their main headquarters for the farm. No name had been chosen as of yet, and several smaller shacks and garages were already marked for demolition as they were far past repair.

Wasting little time, Ambrosius jumped off the back of the bike while Ballister grabbed a notebook out of the backpack that Ambrosius wore. Most of the notes were crude drawings of the property and their plans that had been scribbled over several times over. Right now their biggest predicament was finding enough material to revamp the main building.

“We’re on the short list with the Kingdom to receive an allotment of lumber and cinder-blocks next month, it won’t be enough to finish the entire building though.” Tapping his pencil to a fresh page, Ballister made a few extra notes as he thought through his next steps.

“That’s ok.” Ambrosius shrugged as he understood the priority was to rebuild homes and infrastructure first before allocating extras to projects such as theirs. “Besides, I think that would give us more time to really figure out what we want. Now at least we know what we’re dealing with.” He stated while avoiding a rotted hole in the floor near the entrance of the building as they made their way in. It was early in the morning and the sun was still rising, shadows stretched across the old structure, leaving many of the corners in darkness. What little sunlight made it through the trees highlighted the undertaking they were now facing. There were few windows, and what did exist were rotting out of their frames or broken. In fact most of the wood on the floor was beyond repair.

Ballister assured him that no matter how rough it looked, it could be fixed. Exterior walls would be ripped down to the studs and replaced with a better footprint for their needs. A new roof was needed as well, water stains on the ceiling and down the walls was proof of that fact.

“I’m hoping we can rent some equipment next week to help clear all this out.” Ballister was writing more things down as he looked around the room.

“We need to expand this building. It won’t be enough room for what we have planned.” Moving a few fallen boards from the ceiling, Ambrosius tried to imagine the blueprints that Ballister already drafted, mentally fitting the design over the building they stood in.

“No it won’t. Once we tear everything out we’ll need to pour several concrete pads- then we can expand out.”

“It’s almost like we’re building this thing from scratch.” Ambrosius grimaced at the idea. He knew it needed to be done even if it meant more work for them.

Ballister couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that was exactly what it was going to feel like.

After a few days they managed to separate various leftover junk into several piles in a small field just outside of the main building. One pile was mainly old crates or pallets, material that they considered reusing but decided the wood was too far gone to be of any use. The second other pile was for anything metal, scraps from old machinery or barrels. Then finally, one pile was for anything else.

After a few weeks of hauling away dumpsters of stuff and taking inventory of everything they planned to recycle for use, Ballister knew they wouldn’t have quite enough material from their allocation to complete the main building. As expected as it was, it was a slight disappointment. He planned for that as well though, knowing that they could finish the roof and exterior walls.

Ambrosius asked several times about applying for a second allocation to make sure their names were in line. Ballister initially agreed but later asked him to put the application on hold, as he was sure he could source the wood they needed from another location. When Ambrosius asked where that location was exactly, he noticed the change in Ballister’s mood almost immediately dropped, avoiding the question and deflecting the conversation elsewhere.

Deciding not to push his boyfriend, he dropped the topic for the time being. There was enough work to keep them both busy clear through the new year. All the work had to be completed around the various training sessions that Mike offered them, oftentimes they would spend days picking out and readying the rows of trees that they chose to keep. Bouncing between working outside on days when the weather allowed and inside when it rained or snowed.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t too long after lunch that Ballister asked Ambrosius to follow him across town. Initially it felt like they were going back towards the new property – what they called the farm as they worked out a name and plan – because of the direction they headed. It was eerily similar to the first night Ballister led him there the first time. Behind the line of storefronts, through a hidden tunnel to a path in the woods, leading back to the forgotten apple trees and abandoned buildings. Granted now they had taken the time to knock down some weeds to clear the trail.

Now, instead of turning to walk in the direction of the main building, Ballister gently tugged his hand as they went to the right and around a set of trees that had fallen in the way. Looking back at Ambrosius with a reassuring smile that held a hint of sadness in his eyes. Something that Ambrosius would have asked if not for the silence that fell over them other than the crunch of leaves underneath their feet.

It didn’t take long for Ballister to stop at another small clearing, their way lined with several large trees encasing a hidden yard littered with junk. Broken pieces of building material, rusty barrels, and the carcasses of long forgotten hover carriages were laying in the overgrown grass. In the distance not far behind the scrap was another building, standing tall if not slightly crumbling with not much other than a few metal linked fences and barbed wire holding the stone perimeter.

“Is this also part of the property Bal?” Ambrosius asked, standing next to Ballister who stood rooted in thought and melancholy.

“It is.”

His response was matter of fact, sure in his answer and something that Ambrosius would not have questioned if it were for the crack in his voice.

“Bal” He was worried now. Everything about this purchase was emotional for Ballister, much more than Ambrosius could fathom for some reason unbeknownst to him. As excited as Ballister was to take on this project – once the idea grew on him – there were moments that even Ambrosius wanted to pause to make sure this was right. That Ballister was on board and not simply going through with it because Ambrosius wanted it first.

No. There was much more to this. More than another set of trees or a new building for them to uncover and clear out.

A sharp inhale shook Ambrosius out of thought, catching the small shake in Ballisters stance with a shake of his head. Worry hit Ambrosius quickly as Ballister swallowed down whatever emotions were surfacing.

“This is it.” Ballisters words were rough, on the verge of tears and unstable. Another deep breath seemed to stead him as Ambrosius took his hand in his for comfort, not quite understanding what he was looking at or why Ballister was so overwhelmed. He wanted to ask that this was. This? This heap of junk and rubble? Did it mean something?

Ambrosius didn’t dare ask. Neither of them were strangers to strong emotions. They were always open and honest about what they were feeling, the good and the bad. If anything their ability to trust each other with candidacy and without judgment was part of why they were able to work past what happened. Their love was more than a willingness to work out their differences in fear of being alone. They truly couldn’t bear the thought of being without the other.

“You asked once before. Where I was living, or staying, while on the run.” His tone was more even now. A sad smile gracing his expression the moment he felt Ambrosius hand in his.

Connecting what Ballister was leading to, the pieces started to fall into place. A quick squeeze to Ballisters hand hinting at the revelation.

“Here?” Ambrosius asked. It wasn’t long after Nimona sacrificed herself to save the Kingdom, when they began to work on their traumas, that Ambrosius asked him how he endured their time apart. He wanted to know what Ballister went through, how he survived. One time he asked, and one time Ballister became overly defensive. After that he never asked again, knowing if Ballister wanted him to know he would tell him.

Ballister stood there, his feet unwilling to move, when he wanted nothing more than to lean into Ambrosius. Any small bit of comfort to help hold back the memories and emotions that he faced while looking at his old lair.

Lair. The word was bittersweet.

Beside him, Ambrosius huffed, seemingly caught up in his thoughts.

“Here.” This time, Ambrosius was more sure about his question, more of a statement than an inquiry. Somewhere littered around the industrial tires, bent security fence, and bay doors on the building is where Ballister hid. So close to the Institution and yet too far away for them to ever find. A blessing in disguise really. If they would have found him Ballister would have been quickly tried and doomed a criminal. There would have been no hopes of their love surviving, no chances that the truth would prevail, no guarantee a that Ballister would have survived. Everything could have been much different if not for this inconspicuous and dilapidated industrial mess. A concealed blessing like a diamond in the rough.

Entwining their fingers now Ballister lead Ambrosius towards the building, an old mechanic shop with several bay doors long locked and rusted shut. Ambrosius couldn’t help but look around at the scrap around him, taking in the glint of metal in the afternoon sun and how Ballister may have pondered the usefulness of each piece as he always was the handy one, able to turn random trinkets and wires into wonderful creations.

A sharp emotional pull to his chest jarred Ambrosius at the fact that the junk he was walking over and around could have been considered when Ballister was building his prosthetic. The spare metal, parts, and wires he was now stepping over could have been something that Ballister too contemplated using to his advantage. The realization must have caused him to stumble as Ballister paused, his attention moving from the door of the mechanic building to Ambrosius now, the rawness of the moment evident between them. Ballister gave another squeeze to Ambrosius’ hand in understanding.

“We don’t have to go in, if you don’t want to.” The words Ballister spoke were soft now, still painted with sorrow.

“I do. Really I do Bal.” Certainly, he wanted to know. Breathing in to steady his anticipation Ambrosius took one last glance at Ballister to focus on the building before him. Anxiety rising at what to expect inside. This is what Ballister called home for many long months. Time filled with constant man hunts and propaganda against his character and well being. A safe haven hidden in plain sight for both Ballister and Nimona.

That’s right, Nimona called this place home too.

Ballister talked about her often in fleeting moments. How much she meant to him in times of loneliness and struggle. How she appeared and gave him a small spark of hope in the darkness, even if her antics were unconventional and immature at times. She was a needed distraction, a friend in his time of need, and someone that he came to truly care about and love for who she was.

Ambrosius wanted to thank her with all his being. He knew that he couldn’t no matter how much he wished he could. Ballister mentioned on several occasions that he hoped she would come back, that perhaps she survived after saving the city. They saved each other in a way really. Her heroic sacrifice changed the Kingdom in so many ways and continued to do so.

He’d give anything to thank her for saving Ballister. Now, looking at their hideout took on a new wave of awareness and apprehension. Yes this place hid Ballister, but it also hid Nimona. The sanctity of the moment twisted at Ambrosius, the door creaking as Ballister pushed it open on rigid hinges, dust greeting them upon entry.

The sound of birds chirping gradually faded away as they moved past the doorway. Vines grew up the walls around them, sunlight filtered in through boarded up windows and cracks in the stone walls to illuminate a small and cluttered room. A board game long forgotten on a makeshift table sat next to a neglected couch near a wall of tools and computer screens next to a recessed arch filled with drawing and designs. Colors and pictures were scribbled on old papers jumping out at him from a distance. To his right stood several cabinets with a stove and refrigerator that hummed subtly, indicating that it still worked to some degree and that electricity was still being fed to this outbuilding.

He was almost afraid to touch anything, as if reaching out would disturb reality and break it down into an illusion. Water dripped from the sink in timed intervals almost matching the blinking lights from several computer towers under the screens on the wall that made up a workstation. Steady breaths kept Ambrosius focused, absorbing the surroundings in a stunned silence while Ballister looked on fondly.

“Is this-” Ambrosius wasn’t sure how to word his question, hoping it didn’t trigger difficult memories for Ballister. Slowly he asked and watched as the words registered with Ballister. “Is this the first time you’ve been back? Since – uh, since the explosion? I mean, sorry I’m not asking this right. Since that day?”

Ambrosius would kick himself in the ass if he could, him stumbling over his own words did not help the situation. But Ballister didn’t take the question to heart, understanding that Ambrosius meant well even if he couldn’t find the best words to express it.

“Not the first, no.” Gently moving over to the couch, Ballister ran his hand across the fabric of a green blanket that was draped across it. “I’ve been back here a few times. Not for long.”

“You knew then. When I proposed this whole plan to rebuild the farm, you knew this place was part of the deal.”

Nodding quickly Ballister made his way past everything in the room, leaving it as is, to a door on the other side as Ambrosius followed, careful not to disturb anything along the way.

“I haven’t been able to stay here long, there’s a lot of memories you know? I never thought in a million years that the place I called home while on the run would actually belong to me – to us.”

Cracking open the door with some force Ballister took the lead again into the dark room cluttered with stacked concrete bricks and piles of lumber in seemingly good condition.

“Seeing as this place belongs to us now, I think we could use this.” Grabbing at a tarp Ballister uncovered some plywood and boxes of what looked like screws.

It was no secrete that their plans were on hold for a while. Building supplies were scarce in the Kingdom. Rebuilding damaged homes was the priority, with store fronts and government buildings next in line, followed by expansion projects and miscellaneous repairs. Their plans were far down the list. Originally they were told they could be moved up but even as a Hero of the Realm Ballister refused to skip the line, he never saw that as fair or honest.

“I found this room when I was here originally. None of this was of interest to me then, but now? I’m sure we could make use of it. While talking to Mike he told me his father was planning to fix up this building, before he got sick. All this was bought but never used. In the back are several old frames for signage, I think those will be useful too.”

The layers of dust were enough to make Ambrosius sneeze at the idea of hauling all this material to their main storefront. Ballister was right though. All of this stuff already existed here, on property they now owned, without the need to wait for their turn in line for construction.

“One of the hover carriages outside needs a few repairs to function, but I think I can manage it. Then we’ll have our own equipment without borrowing anything from the Repair Crew. It will take a little time and work. Obviously.”

Ballister was already hard at work sorting through various pieces of lumber as he talked. Already convinced that he could fix whatever they needed – because of course he could – and get the store front up and running faster than they could waiting for government assistance.

A part of Ambrosius felt reserved in removing anything from here for their use, seeing the significance of what this place meant to Ballister while knowing it was likely brought a sense of healing as well.

Coughing as another dust cloud hit them Ballister apologized for moving a tarp too fast, laughing slightly as he wiped a bit of the dust off Ambrosius’ cheeks with his hands. The contrasted feeling of the two thumbs making his heart swell in adoration. Not only did Ballister forgive him for everything, but he trusted to show him a place that literally saved him.

Sure, they owned it now. Unknowingly to Ambrosius until now. But this place sheltered Ballister. It had a hand in protecting him and keeping him safe. It guarded him and Nimona from the Institution. Without it there was not way to say what could have happened. In a way Ambrosius wanted to thank the building, as silly as that sounded. Thanking an inanimate object for existing and for allowing his boyfriend to take up refuge between these walls in his time of need.

It was theirs now. Even if Ballister was not ready to move anything in the front room yet in fear of destroying the memories that remained of Nimona. But they could use the materials around it. In time they would figure out what they wanted the rest of this building to be as they expanded. For now it would stay undisturbed, other than their need of these materials.

Through the dust and streaks of sunlight filtering into the room Ambrosius caught Ballister staring at him tenderly, a look of adoration and vulnerability in his eyes that often meant tears were close to spilling over.

Not missing a beat Ambrosius shuffled over to Ballister, delicately wrapping his arms around his waist and allowing Ballister to slump into him. Supporting each other as they embraced in the stillness.

Chapter Text

It felt like an eternity of uncertainty. All the plans, the needed changes, moving deadlines forward and back in order to accommodate various contractors, and now they were so close to opening - it felt unreal. They worked through the winter, the cold and snow and into the spring, putting the finishing touches on the property. A good portion of the winter was even spent with Mike, the son of the man that sold the land to them, showing Ballister and Ambrosius how to trim the apple trees and cut them back for better growth and yield. While highly suggesting they clear some of the older trees to make way for a younger crop that could be trellised, as that was the industry standard now.

Over time as word spread on the stand and cafe Ballister and Ambrosius were approached by several small business owners in the community that either couldn’t afford a storefront of their own or were looking to get started. Ambrosius did post a wanted ad in the City Hall so all the attention wasn’t totally unexpected, but it was more than they anticipated. So much so that at one point they decided to make a few changes to the blueprints of the main building to make more room for the added business. They would be a host of sorts, what they could grow on the farm would be the main focus, mainly apples until they could work on the fields as they established the payroll to bring in more help, but now the building would have a section for third party sellers as well. Honey, jams, jellies, baked goods and bread were already contracted, with many others working on certifications before they could get the ok to sell their goods.

There was so much changing and moving so fast that neither Ballister or Ambrosius felt like they could keep up at times. The stress would ebb and flow in waves as they worked together to solve any issues that were raised. Testing their relationship every now and again after long days and short nights. But now, they were so close to opening that the reality of it would hit them randomly throughout the day. The entirety of this project helped them to grow closer together, and served as a distraction from the outside world.

Today, when Ballister awoke and made his way down to the cafe his heart fluttered in anticipation. They were so close, the excitement was palpable in the community as well. It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask after all. Two of the Kingdoms most promising Knights – a descendant of Gloreth and a hero of the realm - opening a business for the community as a whole? Ballister was sure that they would be on the front page of the newspaper the moment they opened, not that he cared about praise or accolades.

No, today was bittersweet. Of course his attention had been focused on the culmination of all their hard work, but he couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of grief whenever he looked at the cafe. A lot of the wood for the front deck and columns was pulled for his lair after all. Not from where he and Nimona resided, he never allowed that space to be disturbed. Even as they pulled materials out from that backroom only himself and Ambrosius were allowed back there, and rarely did Ambrosius go there alone, worried that he was intruding on a sacred space, and never daring to touch anything in the main room.

Instead of going down to the cafe, Ballister turned his hoverbike down the path to the lair, gently parking the bike outside the front door. Looking around at the pink flowering trees and tender spring grass in the early morning sun felt calming against his nerves.

He wanted this. It was time. Ballister needed to face this head on if he was to move past the lingering heartache. In time it became easier to share Nimona and her story with Ambrosius. Even if he himself didn’t know her story fully, he did know what she did for him. And without her sacrifice he knew he wouldn't be a free man, he wouldn't be with the man he loved, and the Kingdom would be in shambles.

Several steps forward to the door, and one very deep breath later, Ballister pushed the front door open. Sunlight poured into the space from behind him as a glass bottle rolled to the side of the room. The space looked frozen in time. After all this time nothing had changed. Not the thin layer of dust, the discarded pizza box on the coffee table, the loose game boards, or the hanging strings of colorful lights that Ballister found far too cheerful given their situation. No, nothing was out of place and that pulled at his heartstrings even more.

The fingers of his prosthetic traced the fabric of a green blanket, tossed across the back of the busted and oil stained couch he once called home. Nimona too called this ‘lair’ a safe place. It didn’t take long for her to make herself comfortable here, much to Ballister's chagrin at the time. Once he accepted her though, her presence was reassuring and welcomed, before he knew it she was a friend. She was family. They spent nights laughing, playing games – pieces of which were strewn across the floor now, watching movies and debating the physics of zombies. She would often fall asleep first on this couch and he would cover her with the blanket before calling it a night himself.

This was for her and her memory. Even if it hurt, he couldn’t live in the past anymore, not if he wanted to move forward.

Another deep breath, a sigh, and he moved to one of the windows. Sliding the curtain back in a puff of dust, sunlight filtering through to illuminate more of the space, emblazoning the past scattered around him in order to forge on.

Pieces of various board games were tossed on the floor and table, his attention immediately locating a small metal turn marker that Nimona favored. The ‘old Scottie dog’ as she called it, his fingers lightly taking hold of the piece and placing it on the board, righting the tower piece next to it and turning his focus back to the room as a whole. Adjusting the strings of colorful lights, carefully moving the various weapons that were strewn about the space, hanging a morningstar onto a pegboard of tools on the wall along with Nimonas headphones. The memory of her tugging at him as he adjusted them before turning to the glorious ‘murder wall’, each picture and news clipping a remnant of her existence.

One thing he couldn’t stand was the image of the Director in the center. With a gruff he ripped her picture off the wall, tossing it to the floor in a crumble and replaced it with a hand drawn picture of Nimona in pink marker. The news clippings of himself and Nimona by associating were no longer welcomed here, the graphics quickly replaced by small polaroids of nostalgia.

Each a moment in time that felt wholly unreal and lighthearted in the midst of the very real danger they both faced. Her squeezing the metaphorical life out of him as a large pink bear, the time when she stuck a plunger to her face as a shark and he almost died laughing watching her try to pry it off.

He’d give anything if it meant being able to laugh with her one more time.

Reality may not be so kind to him. But his memories were bright and joyful. Wistful yearning leaving a smile on his face through the mourning of what could have been. Her memory would not be hidden – it didn’t deserve to be, not in this rundown building hidden from the world.

Ballister could feel tears prickling up, threatening to spill over. Even if they did he wouldn't stop.

There was a sharp knock to the entrance door. Pulling him from the past and back to the present. Only twice has he heard a knock at that door.

Hopeful joy overtook him in an instant. The first time someone knocked on that door he took them as an enemy. Ready to attack in order to defend his good name. But it wasn’t an enemy, no it was far from it. She became his best friend in a time of need. There was no way it could be her though right? Could she really come back?

The bubbling possibility kicked him into gear. His hands grabbed a ceiling hook, swinging across the room, over the couch, and hitting the ground running for the door as he pulled it open in anticipation.

The sound of chirping birds, flowers, and the warm spring air greeted him. Not Nimona.

It was expected of course. Even so the smile on his face grew at the speculation. It truly would be a miracle if she came back after all this time. He knew that stranger things had happened given everything he learned this past year, but he still hoped that there was a chance.

He sighed, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized was stuck in his chest.

Noise materialized behind him from inside the lair. A crystalline sparkle reminiscent of the after effects of Nimonas shifting. The sound forever burned into his mind’s eye.

A warm-hearted and recognizable voice called out for him from inside the lair.

“Hey boss.”

Twisting to look behind him now, the first element he noticed was the bright pink glow flooding the room. Diamond flashes of brilliance dancing in the air as a small and familiar figure took shape in front of him, relief and euphoria overtaking him at the image in front of him, unable to restrain his excitement as the reality of the moment took hold before him. Cursing in disbelief and astonishment that it really was real as he ran to her.

Chapter Text

Spring passed far too fast between securing all the permits necessary for their business and making sure the farm was ready to go by opening day. They chose August 1st as the soft opening, giving them one more month than they thought needed. But in the end it all worked out as Ballister took one more glance out the front bay window to the line of media trucks and news personalities that wanted nothing more than to gain primary access to the new owners.

There was a time when Ballister held a slight cynicism towards reporters, heck, he couldn’t stand them when he was branded a criminal. At best he avoided them, at worst they would pinpoint his location to the whole Kingdom.

That was neither here nor there now. Shaking his head, he tossed those old thoughts out, now was not the time to think about the past. Today was the opening day for the farm. Every corner of the cafe was full of various goods and home baked foods, not all their own of course, he was especially excited about their local beekeeper and the honey products they provided in their shop. And it seemed that the local kids were jumping to try out the fresh fudge and hard candies from a wonderful older couple that could no longer afford their own shop front.

A loud bang could be heard in the rear of the shop from a backroom, making Ballister wince slightly before turning his attention to where Ambrosius had last taken off too. They were almost ready. One last touch was needed before they officially opened, at least that’s what Nimona said.

She had only been back about four months now, four months of Ballister promising his full support, four months of her adjusting to her new title as a hero, and four months of Ambrosius giving her space while desperately working to befriend her.

It took time, that’s all there was to it. Nimona of course never hated Ambrosius, she never had any real reason other than the fact that he was after Ballister for the short time they were separated. In time she told her story of Gloreth and their friendship that turned into a tale of betrayal, and how a misunderstanding turned into bigoted folklore for centuries. Although quite different from what Ambrosius himself went through he did sympathize with her. Plus, it was hard for Nimona to hate the man Ballister loved.

As soon as she heard about the farm, she very quickly jumped on board, ready to lend a hand where needed, and convinced them that they did indeed need a small petting zoo. For the kids, of course. With a little searching, Ambrosius was the first to find a farmer with a few goats for sale not far from them. As of now they decided that they would stick with a few goats and see how well they were able to adjust to the farm. If all went well they had space for a chicken coop as well, the idea of fresh eggs could be a selling point for their cafe as well.

As Ballister made his way into the back he passed the small kitchen for their cafe. The chef was busy with his helper for the day – an older child from the orphanage named Kris – as the chef instructed him on the signature sandwich they were offering to guests.

Pushing the door into the backroom Ballister could see Ambrosius rolling an old dolly over to a large sign they needed out front. The sign itself came from the old lair, something they found as they were removing the building materials they needed and figured they could repurpose this too. Granted it was heavy, much more so than many modern signs as it was made with several cast iron parts. But they agreed that the longevity of it was worth the extra work.

Ambrosius gave him one long exasperated look as Ballister ran over to lend a hand. Their combined strength was barely enough to lift the rectangular sign up enough to be placed on the dolly. The sign itself was a design that all three of them had decided on before sending the final proof to a metal artisan. They were able to restore the exterior cast iron and mold the interior signage to fit perfectly inside the framing. The letters finished in a black enamel with a hint of several pink swirls along the side resembling wings – something that Ambrosius suggested in order to match the name.

Phoenix Farm and Cafe. It was simple. Mainly because Ballister and Ambrosius were never very creative when it came to naming things. In the end they agreed that a phoenix was quite symbolic for several reasons. Foremost for their own relationship and the process it took to rebuild it. Then for the fact that they were giving this property a new life, literally piecing it back together into something new with several old aspects still remaining. And lastly for Nimona, without her this area wouldn't even exist, the only thing left would have been scorched earth and rubble.

After what felt like an eternity they were able to roll the sign out the back door and around the front of the building, Ambrosius leading the way as he pulled the dolly along. The pebble path made it slightly more difficult with the wheels and it didn’t take long for several news cameras to turn in their direction the moment they were in view as they made they way to the side of the main pathway where a large sturdy metal post stood proudly in the dirt, already set up with a bracket to hold the sigh – a design that Ballister himself created for a perfect fit.

Once again the chaos of the moment hit Ballister more so than Ambrosius as the crowd cheered them on and several reporters tried to usher them closer to ask a few questions. It’s not that Ballister was against the fanfare, but after his reluctance to mix his knightly career with celebrityhood, and reminders of a few of these very reporters slandering him as a murderer in the past, didn’t leave him feeling any warm feelings towards the commotion. Silently he hoped that Ambrosius would take the lead and handle them as he always did in order to spare Ballister the excitement.

Almost on cue, Nimona rushed over to them. Shifting from her typical human girl form to a large dragon, her pink scales sparkling in the sun, as she moved in to help with a joyful “I got it, boss!”

Ballister and Ambrosius stood on each side ready to help steady the sign if needed but, as expected, Nimona was more than capable to lift it up into place on her own, blowing a small flame stream on each side to melt the bolts into place, melting the frame to the post so that it effectively would never fall out of place.

Ballister ducked out of the way in jest as Ambrosius jumped back slightly, neither expecting the fire but knew they were safely out of range. Nimona simply responded with laughter, smiling widely at her metalwork. A playful punch to his shoulder shook Ballister back to reality, his attention focusing on Ambrosius pointing to the cameras snapping away at their display. The moment felt like a blur as the three of them posed slightly, Ambrosius pulling Ballister in as Nimona leaned down over the sign to give a double peace sign in typical Nimona fashion. It had become her go to pose as of late, dazzling the media and kids alike.

After a few seconds they broke their pose and turned to see their staff coordinator welcoming a group of guests to the cafe, taking the lead as asked by Ambrosius the week before. As much as they would have loved to oversee the operations on opening day, they knew they would be much too busy bouncing between the media and taking care of any last minute details. Not wasting one moment being idle, Nimona shifted back to her human form and ran off towards the cafe giggling.

Almost on cue one of the reporters waved to the trio in a bid to usher the new owners over.

“I’ll take care of this one Bal.”

A wave of relief washed over Ballister, barely having time to mouth a quick ‘thank you’ before Ambrosius was making his way over to handle the journalists.

The smile on Ballister’s face couldn’t get any wider. This business would test them, he knew that. But even more he knew how much joy it would bring to them and the community. All their hard work was paying off and he knew that, between the three of them, he was certain they could manage anything that came their way.

Speaking of the three of them, where did Nimona go?

Looking around rapidly Ballister scanned the area. She wasn’t with Ambrosius or the reporters – that kind of popularity wasn’t her style. And she wasn’t out by the picnic tables. Maybe she went inside?

Suddenly several of their goats rushed by Ballister, one weaving through his legs and throwing him off balance for a second, the furry little mammals being led by none other than a suspiciously pink counterpart.

In the distance Ballister could make out several laughs, one very familiar chuckle from the media line belonging to Ambrosius who could only give him an apologetic look.

Ballister only shook his head in acceptance. Knowing that he wouldn’t want this day to go any other way. That of course didn’t stop him from taking off after the goats as he called after their chaotic leader.

“Nimona! The goats have to stay in their pen!”