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It's been less than an hour when Glitch and Nathania find themselves in a simple diner, the closest spot down the block from the door out of the Freehold Hollow. Sitting in the lull between lunch and dinner, there's few other souls in the place, sitting far away enough to not even overhear the two. The diner itself is cheerily lit, though, and it's a nice and temperate day outside, if a bit cool and overcast. The world is soft, and calm, and human.
At least someone is. Glitch is trying not to fidget as the reality of the situation sets in. He doesn't look too uncomfortable, but he does keep turning his head back to look at Nathania every time he finds his gaze wandering off, as if worried she may not be there when he does.
Nat is sitting quietly, knitting on that red sock again. She meets every one of Glitch's gazes with a small, patient smile, her affection for him showing. "So." She gives him a crooked smile. "Who's... going to be upset... at me returning without warning? Sigrun... said I should have called... ahead. I'm not... sure. I didn't know I'd... be here until... I heard something was... going on. So I left Vermont and... came here." Her grey-eyed gaze, so different now, is steady on the pixelsprite across from her.
He looks back, with love and worry intermingled on his face. His colors have faded and dimmed further, slightly approaching the black and white he wraps himself in, but his youthful features have barely changed. The way he sits is different though. Fidgets and thousand-yard stares have turned into calm sprawls and patient gazes. Three years has brought experience, and growth. He frowns when she's so blunt like that, but then heaves out a sigh that sounds like he's been holding it in since he first saw her.
"Teagan," he says, meeting her gaze. "It's...not your fault, I..." He raises his hands and opens his flickering mouth a moment, and halts, then slumps his shoulders with a sigh, overwhelmed by trying to say everything at once. "I don't know. They're mad. I think they're scared."
"Understandably," the rag doll says quietly, sipping from a mug of hot tea in front of her. "Of course... they're scared. They think... I'm here to uphold... something that, quite frankly, doesn't need... to be upheld." She looks at him steadily. "I love you. I will always... do so. But you and I... can't be... each other's everything. That would... make us resent each... other. And... Briar? Has been amazing." Her smile turns soft, affectionate. "He's a good... man, that hare of mine." But, she heaves a sigh after a moment, eyes drifting to the formica tabletop. "I just... heard there... was trouble. I didn't realize... y'all... were here. But I saw... Sigrun, put it... together." Her knitting picks up again, furious, frustrated. "I wanted... to talk to you... alone, first. Didn't get that."
Glitch just relaxes more and more as she speaks, and the Winter sees his natural defenses lower one by one. His hand reaches across the table and squeezes hers. "There is trouble. Winter trouble, so I figure you heard. What do you know about Robin so far?" he murmurs. His smile agrees with everything she's said so far. "We can talk more about us, but you should know what...the fuck's going on here first. What the stakes are."
Nat's posture relax as his does. But she never loses all of her defenses. Winter thing, you know.
"Pretend, for old... times' sake, that I'm... as green... as they come." But her eyes are sly. She's done this before--if not to Glitch, in front of him. "I Oathed... as soon... as my feet hit the city... limits, essentially. So feel free." Because she knows this is important and Freehold Business. She knows not everyone knows her like he does.
She knows that some of the people that do know her may not trust her, right now.
"Start.... at the beginning, please." She finally squeezes his hand back, smiling a little at him. A fond thing. An intimate thing, of love still carried like a shield. But not a love so insecure she's here to steal it back.
Glitch knows. They fit together again like they were never apart, because they know each other's boundaries, where they meet and where they don't. He squeezes her hand again as he listens, nodding with firm sincerity. As if the 'game' she's playinng is the most serious thing in the world, because to him, every Game is. Nat's especially so. He withdraws his hand gently so she can knit while he speaks, dipping his chin towards the yarn.
"I wasn't there for it, and I'm still kind of out of the loop, But...Robin Kovacs was the Winter Steward here. Handled the paperwork for the whole Freehold, everyone swearing in, correspondance with other Freeholds..." He pauses, knowing Nat might react. Or might just show her impressive Winter cool. Either way, he continues after a beat. "I don't know what set things in motion, but someone in the Freehold started looking into her...and she Helldived into their room and stabbed them in their sleep, with an iron knife. They lived but we don't know where she is." He nods. "I know a few more details, but any questions so far?"
That 'impressive Winter cool' flickers, for a moment. As in, it gets cold around them; the waitress bustling by as Glitch says the word 'questions' mutters about 'damned cold spots' and goes to thump the air conditioner. Again.
"No. We're crystal," the rag doll says in her sweet voice. It's only dripping with ice after that, her grey eyes as cool as her words. But on she knits, even as frost creeps around her Mantle and even starts to melt toward Glitch's warmer one. But she nods at him to continue, her dexterous little hands working swiftly.
Angrily, he'd probably notice. Oh, he's seen her this edge of upset before, but never this kind of... cold about it. She's usually passionate in her Wintriness. But this... This spells 'd-a-n-g-e-r' for this Robin person.
There's the faintest hint of a wry smile, the gallows humor of mutual understanding, as Glitch picks up on the anger spilling out. "Yeah, that's how everyone else reacted. Good people here. And even bad people get fucking pissed off when you're a literal backstabbing traitor." He nudges at his coffee, then takes a sip. "Hue and Cry is up and everyone's doing something on this, whether it's guarding people at risk, going through all her fucking paperwork to see what the damage is, or beating the street to find her. If she's smart, she'll be gone by now and we'll never see her again."
Another sip of the coffee. "Okay, if she was wise. She's smart. Smart enough to fuck over a lot of people and make a big mess to clean up, and get away. But I don't think she makes very good decisions," he quips dryly. "I don't know what they found that pushed her over the line, but the official word is she broke the Right to Dream. Rumor is she was destroying...normal people's dreams, or something like that. Crazy shit to try and cut people off from Them."
Letting out a low, nearly serpentine hiss, Nat's voice is absolutely bitter now. "Bridge-Burner," she whispers, her posture as erect and porcelain-doll-perfect as it usually isn't.
"Well. That's a problem." Nat sips from her tea, trying to warm herself into some semblance of normalcy. It fails, but she's trying, damn it.
"I've moved on to... firearms.... as my primary," she murmurs. "So. Where ...am I of use?"
Glitch arches a brow at finding out Nat packs a gun now, but seems to approve. "Let yourself be mad," he murmurs. "I know you're used to hiding it, to repressing it, but there's no reason to. Just me here. And being pissed off means you're a good person who gives a shit." He says all this flat as can be himself of course, his own anger lurking so far down inside Nat's only seen it a few times. "We've got people on guard duty to make sure Robin doesn't get at some other shit, I don't know the details there because standing around being good and not doing anything isn't what I'm good at." He pauses and eyes the ragdoll. "That's more your style. I'll pass your info along to Mearc for that if you want. As for hunting her down, Sturm's on point with that. She's...our newest member. Big frost giant lady. Pretty cool. No pun intended."
There's a frown. "One thing doesn't add up."
Grins a little at the pun, but nods. "Pass... my info," she murmurs, before canting her head at him. "What doesn't... add up?" she murmurs again, voice softer now.
He checks his phone, tosses down some cash, and stands in preparation to head out after another sip of coffee. "That's Mearc right now. He's been on watch for days and I promised I'd bring him some food and witness him actually eating it so his people don't worry about him," he beeps. "The part I don't get about Robin is that everyone's saying she appeared in the victim's room, stabbed them, and then disappeared. But if she was Helldiving, or using a Contract, or anything else...
...how could she carry iron?"
Nat blinks. She obviously hadn't thought of that, and she just stares at Glitch before shoving her knitting unmercifully in a grey and pink knitting bag with hearts and flowers on it. "I... don't know." She stands, shouldering her messenger bag, and leans in to kiss him. "We'll... figure it... out. We're resourceful." Her smile is soft, affectionate. "I miss you." And she hands over a piece of paper with her name and the burner cell on it. "The other number... never changed. That's for... your friend."
He closes his eyes as she leans into to kiss him, drawing her against him softly, and afterwards he takes the number gently, like the precious thing it is, and tucks it away in his dark jacket over his heart. "I miss you every day. I'll text you. And you're right, we'll figure it out," he agrees, sharing a preciously rare smile with her.
And then he's gone once again, slipping out into the world to return to the war against both of them that never stops.
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