Prompt: Family 

Day: September 10^th 

Platonic Aranea/Loqi, Platonic Cor/Loqi, or Cor/Loqi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3027

Warnings: Implied deep depression, implied emotional child
neglect, implied violence.

Summary: Loqi’s family situation shifted from his actual
blood family, to his idea of loyalty to the emperor being his family, to
basically adopting Aranea as an older sibling along with Biggs and Wedge, and
eventually the strange relationship he has with Cor. He reflects on this, along
with the constant depression that’s been present throughout his life.

Also posted on AO3. 

Loqi sniffled in his seat. Not because he was crying, but
because his nose was still bleeding, and he dared not get the blood on his
uniform. A glower was aimed at the secretary of his school, the one responsible
for calling his father. And in turn she only gave him a smug look, as if proud
that she might see one of the proud Tummelts in trouble. Even if said Tummelt
was only 13.

Meanwhile, the boy who had started the fight was currently
on his way to the nearest medical facility. Loqi had, regrettably, broken the
boy’s wrist after he had thrown the first punch. Allowed him to make him bleed
so he could justifiably call it self-defense. He was after all, the smaller of
the two, and could be called the weaker based on that alone. But his father…

Well, his father would know better. He’d been the one who’d
taught him after all.

Loqi could hear the door of the school open in the distance
then, thanks to the echoing halls. A heavy sigh left him, and he braced himself
with every step of his father’s boots he heard. When the door to the office
opened, he stood up straight and allowed his face to relax into something
neutral. His father only glanced at him, and then at the secretary.

“Your reason for calling me here?” He said simply, his tone
ensuring he got only a straight answer.

“Your son was involved in an altercation.” She said, also
rising to her feet. She held her head up, as if sure she was just in calling
his father here from the Emperor’s side.

She explained that a fight had broken out. But she neglected
to mention that the other boy had started it, or why they had started fighting
at all. Just that Loqi had broken the boy’s wrist. He managed to keep his face
stoic through her run down of events, but he couldn’t help the slight tensing
of his shoulders when his father leveled his gaze at him.

He looked at his face, as if searching for a lie before it
could even leave Loqi’s mouth. His silence scared Loqi, making his father seem
larger than he was, like a creature coiling for a killing strike. More than
once, when he was younger, had he been on the receiving end of his father’s
strikes. Honestly, the boy’s punch was nothing compared to his training sessions.

“Loqi. What happened?”

He sounded so calm, but Loqi, from experience could hear the
traces of anger in his voice.

“Sir,” He started, his voice level, “Dean from class 7
started the fight. He claimed that the emperor’s health would fail him soon,
and that his family was closer in line to the throne than ours.”

At that his father seemed to settle back into his bones, but
not entirely. “And?”

“I told him the emperor was far from being ill, and had
named his successor already, whom house Tummelt would serve to our greatest
ability, as we always have, and would hold no claim over the throne no matter
what.” He said, reciting part of his family’s oath. “I also said that he should
watch his words, as one could take what he said as a threat upon the emperor from
his family if he wasn’t careful.”

His father’s eyes narrowed, but he was appeased. Though ire
was still present in his voice, just no longer directed at Loqi.

“And then what occurred?”

“Dean punched me.” Loqi said it simply, not realizing that
his nose, though the bleeding had slowed, hadn’t stopped. “So I reacted to it
as a threat to myself, as the future of house Tummelt.”

He knew he was laying it on rather thick with the family
loyalty stuff, but part of him did want nothing more to uphold the honor his
family had won for generation after generation. Plus, his father seemed
satisfied with the explanation.

Loqi sort of mentally checked out then, glad he’d managed to
direct his father’s anger at someone other than himself. And his father was
upset that clearly his school was seeking to pin the blame on Loqi for the
whole ordeal. The secretary’s face was no longer smug, but slowly sinking into
placating and apologetic. He wasn’t paying attention at that point, letting his
father get the anger out of his system without interrupting.

He was only pulled out of his thoughts only when his father
pressed his handkerchief under his nose. Loqi looked up at his father, the
brief thought of how he’d never catch up to his height passing through his
mind, and made a questioning noise.

“Come Loqi. We’re going home.”

Loqi lifted his hand and took over on holding the cloth
under his nose. “Yes father.”

He followed his father’s quick pace, taking two steps for
every one of his fathers, and didn’t complain. It was only when they were in
their car, with the MT designated to them by the emperor driving, that his
father spoke again.

“I think it’s time we moved you out of the civilian school
system.” His father seemed to mull something over, and then continued, “You’ve
already proven that you understand what is being asked of our family. As such,
you’ve proven ready for the next phase of your life.”

Loqi’s heart rate sped up, and he said, “Yes father.”

That could only mean one thing. He’d be placed into the
military program, presumably the fast track like all Tummelts. Literally,
something he’d been raised for all his life. But it was mildly concerning when
he realized that he’d probably be the youngest Tummelt in history to go into
the program. However, he didn’t dare to question his father. (Though part of
him did wonder if his father was rushing him into the program for some other
reason.)

He’d be made into a weapon for the empire. And while he was
already considered advanced for his age, he knew that they’d hammer him into a
prodigy in his own right. Equal parts dread, and excitement filled him. And for
once, his father looked proud of Loqi. But only for a moment.

He then turned away from his son and looked out the window,
watching the passing landscape instead.

~

He’d just turned 15, in the middle of sparring with some of
the best instructors available for his fighting style, inside one of the empire’s
numerous training facilities, when he received word.

“Loqi Tummelt.” A voice called from over his left shoulder,
and he quickly snapped around and saluted on instinct.

“Sir.”

Ravus, the once prince of Tenebrae and current officer of
the military, stalked closer to him, stopping only a few feet away. He’d always
liked him. Ravus, though he’d been softer than Loqi had ever been allowed, soon
enough had become a renown soldier. However, at the moment he seemed to look
Loqi up and down. Or maybe he was searching for a way to start whatever he had
to say. Loqi couldn’t tell. But then he simply stated what he came there for.

“Your father has fallen, listing you as his only heir.”
Ravus paused, assessing Loqi’s facial expression undoubtedly. But when it
remained unchanging, he continued, “Your house retainers shall take over his
duties, until you reach the age necessary for you to assume responsibility of
them.”

Loqi stood still, unchanging, almost as if he was paralyzed.
At that moment, it felt like a stone was sinking down into his stomach, one
made of intense dislike of Ravus. Simply for the fact he was the one telling
him of his father’s death. And perhaps, the tactical side of his brain
whispered, the emperor had planned for this result. It made sense, for him not
to like a former royal of a conquered territory. The Tummelts were made to
serve the emperor after all. Better to not risk the only heir of the house
turning traitor for the sake of something silly like friendship.

“Lord Tummelt, do you understand what I’m saying?” Ravus
asked, his face also unchanging, but there was concern in his eyes. Loqi had
just become unresponsive for a time after all. (And it deeply bothered him,
just how young Loqi really was.)

However, it was the concern in Ravus’s eyes that pulled him
back. He snapped back into his body and nodded.

“Yes. I understand,” he said mechanically, “Will that be
all?”

“Yes. Yes it is.” Ravus said, and he watched as Loqi
returned to his sparring.

And if he noticed the 15-year-old was more vicious from then
on, he said nothing.

~

A few months after that, he returned home. Home, where his
father would never return. Where his mother had passed away from illness. Where
he was alone, aside from those who now worked for him. There was a horrible
hollow feeling in his chest. He’d felt it before as a child, but never to this
extent.

He didn’t like it.

Part of him debated on asking Ravus, now a respected
colleague and no more, to send for Lady Lunafreya. To see if she could pull
what could only be described as sickness from his heart. But in the end he
didn’t. Rather, he went into his father’s study and summoned his father’s- no,
his retainers to him. To teach him the paper work and responsibilities his
father had left him and let himself be lost in that work for a while.

But it wasn’t enough.

Soon enough, once he was proficient enough in his
responsibilities, he requested an audience with the emperor and requested to be
sent to war.

“I want to serve as my father did, in service to you and
your glory.” He said, arm crossed over his sternum and bowed at the waist.

The emperor laughed, but it wasn’t cruel. Rather, it was one
of fondness. “And so, his son is already prepared to swear his service and don
his mantle. Your father did not lie when he said that you might be the
brightest mind to come from house Tummelt.”

The Emperor hummed, seemingly in thought. But then answered.
“Granted. You’ll start your new duties in a week. See to it that you finish all
necessary paperwork and ensure that your responsibilities will be seen to while
you’re away.”

“Thank you, your radiance.” He said in reply, truly meaning
his gratitude. Knowing that he would be away from home, and risking his life,
somehow made the hollowness recede. If only a little. “House Tummelt, as
always, lives for the glory of the empire.”

With that, he was dismissed and immediately went to work
doing as the emperor asked.

~

“My name’s Loqi Tummelt. Pleasure to be working with you.”
He nodded his head to the woman he’d be working with for the next few months.
Behind him stood one of his combat trainers, simply here to observe his actions
and report back how he handles himself in live combat. So, he didn’t introduce
himself.

“Shiva’s frosty ass, they sent us a kid.” Aranea shook her
head and turned away, a strange look on her face. “Well. As long as you can
keep up Tummelt. Name’s Aranea. Welcome to the crew.”

With her, he settled into himself. Her men became people he
could trust unreservedly. They’d talk long into the day, and then greet the
night and find the demons that were required. He threw himself into battle
after battle, with each one becoming more and more alive. But it would always
recede back into hollowness.

It was also with her that he first felt defeat.

With gasping breaths, and blood pounding in his ears, he
fell to his knees.

They had been separated. Ordered to assist a frontal assault
mission gone wrong. Aranea was off fighting with simple soldiers of Lucis. He
on the other hand, ended up locked in battle with the immortal. He hadn’t meant
to, at first. He and his trainer were just supposed to slip away from battle,
and stay out of sight of Cor. But then something burned inside him, making him
the hotheaded and headstrong kid he wasn’t supposed to be. He wanted to fight
him. And before he knew it, he’d shouted at him, challenging him and throwing
himself at the man while his trainer tried to talk some sense into him.

It hadn’t ended well of course.

He used his sword to hold himself up, not willing to endure
the embarrassment of falling forward. Before him walked Cor the immortal, face
just as blank as his was. However, their eyes held different emotions. Loqi
never felt so alive, even with what he was sure was death walking toward him.
Death on the immortal’s sword was an honorable one. The only thing he regretted
was that his house would end with him.

But the hollowness was gone.

He glared upward at the man, and watched as he raised his
sword, never breaking eye contact. But then, to both their surprise, he lowered
his blade and replaced it in its sheath. He then leveled a stare at him that
slightly unnerved Loqi.

Loqi was used to being able to read people. But the emotions
buzzing in his chest after years of not feeling them made him unable to focus
enough, so the strange look in Cor’s eyes scared him a little. But he only responded
to that feeling with a glare. However, Cor’s gaze seemed like he could see
through all of Loqi’s bullshit. That thought made Loqi both angry and hopeful
in equal amounts.

(Please, please let someone see the hollow thing eating me.)

But the Cor shattered that hope.

“You shouldn’t charge
in so recklessly. That’s the quickest way to be killed.” He said.

He’d left then, ignoring the insults that Loqi was screaming
at his back. He was angry, upset about the small hope he’d felt, after years of
feeling empty, being stripped away so callously. It was then, right after Cor
was out of sight and Loqi finally allowed himself to collapse, that he swore
that Cor would die by his hand.

Because how dare he give him that hope.

When he awoke, he was in one of Aranea’s camps. The battle
was over and already the hollow feeling was back. She revealed that his trainer
was killed by Cor after he’d passed out. But when she said it, she didn’t look
at him. Her eyes were on the floor, but she was glaring. As if the words she
said tasted bad in her mouth. She was lying. Cor had walked away.

But he said nothing and agreed to write his report on what
happened. He left out that he’d seen Cor leave, and was pronounced proficient
for combat since he’d outlived his trainer on the field.

Soon enough, once that was settled, months turned into years
with Aranea, two to be precise. And eventually, when the hollowness came back
and became too much to bear, he handed in a request for a general’s position.

To his surprise he was promoted and assigned to frontline
assault rather than simple demon collection, with his own battalion of MTs to
command. And when he left her side, he briefly entertained the thought that she
must act like an older sister does, and thanked her for everything.

~

He becomes known for being reckless, but deadly on the
battlefield. Headstrong, and able to stand up to the marshal.

(He begins to think that the Marshal, judging by the advice
he leaves him with after every battle, one day wishes to be killed by him.)

~

He sat on the walls of Lestallum late at night, staring out
into the darkness. A soft sigh left him. The feeling of hollowness was worse
than ever before. He felt cold. He’d always thought it was just the ice around
Gralea that made him cold, or the altitude of the airships. But no. Even here
on the ground, in arguably the warmest place in the world, his hands were like
ice, and he could barely suppress the shiver in his shoulders from making
itself known.

“Loqi?”

Cor’s voice came from behind him, and when Loqi turned, he
placed a hand on his shoulder. Loqi’s eyes flickered to his hand and then back
up to his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched, and that was all the sign
that Cor needed these days. His hand ever so slightly tightened on Loqi’s
shoulder, meant to reassure, but also keep him from ‘falling’ off the wall. He
then guided him away from where he sat and made sure to stand between him and
the edge.

As if Loqi would be so dramatic as to fling himself off the
wall.

Cor had been the first one to broach the topic, with Aranea
being unable to, no matter how she wished. She had explained his tendencies.
His actions. His moods. His thought processes. And Cor had pieced it together.
Loqi didn’t feel hollow. Cor said disassociating was common in soldiers,
especially ones who had started as young as they had. And that was only a small
piece of it.

He also explained why Loqi only ever felt alive when in
danger, and Loqi had hated him for a while for it.

But now, when they got down from the wall, Cor took his
hands, holing them between his own. Occasionally, he’d blow on them, trying to
warm them with his breath. It worked for his hands, and he felt less cold. But
also, Loqi noticed that when he did this for him, the place in his chest didn’t
feel so hollow anymore.

A hint of warmth was there now as well.

“Come on Loqi, let’s go find Aranea. Maybe she’ll share some
of that Tenebraen whiskey she found.” Cor suggested. And while Loqi couldn’t
bring himself to talk just yet, he nodded.

He didn’t follow Cor, but rather Cor matched his steps, so
he wasn’t forced to try and keep up with the taller man. And upon reaching the
barracks where they called home, Aranea, Biggs, and Wedge were there to welcome
him.