Tag: ffxv fanfiction

Night will Fall – Chapter 1 – ChocobosTrinket (Neverforget94) – Final Fantasy XV [Archive of Our Own]

Chapters: ½
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Cor Leonis, Aranea Highwind, Loqi Tummelt, Gladiolus Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Biggs Callux, Wedge Kincaid, Original Characters, Kingsglaive Members
Additional Tags: Self-Sacrifice, Demons, Worry, Loqi almost dies, World of Ruin, unedited, unbetaed, Probably full of typos
Series: Part 5 of World of Ruin Side Stories
Summary:

It was fine, he told himself. He saved a lot more people than what would have survived if he insisted they fight. The road was unsalvageable anyways. And this way, most of their group made it back. Most.
…
He really hoped that Aranea wasn’t in town. She… She might cry if he died and she had only been minutes away in her ship. And he didn’t want that.

Night will Fall – Chapter 1 – ChocobosTrinket (Neverforget94) – Final Fantasy XV [Archive of Our Own]

Chirp Chpt 3: Reveal

Link to AO3: Chirp

Chapter Summary: 

Prompto’s wings are examined and it’s decided that he’ll be staying in the citadel now.

Notes: This took a long time, and I half way almost lost where I was going. So this chapter is a little bleh. But hey, I now have a plot for it! So this should be the last aimless chapter. 

It took a bit to reach Noctis’s room. Prompto had run a lot farther and faster than people had expected after all, but eventually they arrived. Cor knocked as his way of announcing himself, and then opened the door. Wordlessly, he gave a slight bow before entering the room. All eyes had turned toward the door by that point. The king and Clarus were among them, and of course, all Noctis’s circle. Prompto managed to stay behind Cor, mostly, at least until his uncle betrayed him and left him in plain view of everyone.

Without anywhere else to hide, he gave them all a sheepish smile and waved, “Hi guys?”

Noctis nearly flew at him from across the room and shook him by the shoulders once he was within arm’s reach. “Why’d you run? Half the citadel was looking for you!”

The concern on Noctis’s face would have been funny, in any other situation. But Prompto could only grimace in response. “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“Panicked huh?” Gladio’s voice came from behind him, having snuck up while he’d been distracted. How someone as large as him could move so silently, Prompto couldn’t guess. And before he could dart away from what he knew was coming, he was already in a head lock and being noogied.

Prompto yelped, struggling for a good few moments before he managed to wiggle away. “I didn’t mean to bite you!”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to? Tell that to the teeth marks!”

“Come now, I’m positive he really didn’t mean to Gladio.” Ignis started, reaching up to slightly smooth down where Prompto’s hair had gotten messed up, though he knew by now that the cowlicks were a lost cause. “We all know he tends to act before thinking.”

Gladio opened his mouth to reply, but before they could get into any further teasing or argument, Clarus cleared his throat to cut in. “I believe we’re here for a reason?”

The four boys froze and then looked over at the adults, having forgotten they were there. Ignis dropped his hand and behind him his wings twitched once before becoming still again. Gladio cleared his own throat and turned to look out the window to hide the slight blush, his owns wings subtly pulling closer to his back. Noctis only stared back, too hyper aware that his father was in the same room as him to forget his presence, and Prompto looked like he’d jump out the window if given a chance.

New circles often forgot about everyone else in the world. It was just a side effect of finding your chosen family for the first few years. As such, most young winged people were easily lost in their own world, and even more easily startled by anyone else until they fully settle into their circles. And that only came with age. (Clarus and Regis recalled many times when their own circle had been startled by something when they were still settling.)

“Y-yeah.” Prompto sighed, breaking out of being startled first, and then allowed Noctis to fuss over him while being guided to the bathroom.

“You need to take that off Prompto. They just need to see.” Noctis said, and then lowered his voice, “Your wings…they aren’t hurt or anything from this right?”

“Not as far as I know.” Prompto replied in just as low a voice. “I’ll be right out Noct.”

“Okay.” Noctis then lightly pushed him inside and shut the door.

At first, he really did debate on going out the window, even though he’d already agreed to show them. But then he sighed and resigned himself to doing what they wanted. He didn’t want to disappoint Cor after all. (Not to mention Cor would probably literally swoop out the other window and grab him before he got too far.)

He made quick work of taking off his jacket, school top, and his under shirt. The binder itself however, always took a few minutes. The straps around his waist held most of his feathers against his back, while the top straps were more like a harness, pinning his wings flat against his shoulders. The waist straps were easy, feathers didn’t really feel anything unless you pulled them. But the shoulders?

The second his wings were free of his shoulders, he hissed as he moved them, allowing his wings to return to their naturally resting state. It was a huge relief, but also, for the first few minutes always ached. Blood circulating better he’d read. He was lucky that there hadn’t been any damage yet. However, he knew that eventually there would have been. Perhaps this was a good thing this happened when it did.

He put his shirt back on and pushed his wings through the wing holes that had never been used. It felt odd at first. He stretched his arms above his head, trying to let he back adjust to the freedom of movement, and the slight shift in balance he felt. Behind him, he extended his wings, examining them in the mirror.

While most the pattern had grown in, he still had the downy fluff of a child on the inside of his wings. But otherwise, the pattern was clear and there was no mistaking it. He worried his lip as he brought his wings back in, but miscalculated an accidently knocked off the soap dispenser from the bathroom counter. It landed with a clatter on the bathroom floor and before he could lean down to pick it up, there was a soft knock at the door.

“Prompto? You alright?” Noctis called, the worry in his voice setting off all the protective instincts a circle member could have.

So, he picked up the soap and placed back where it should be then walked to the door. With a deep breath, and a smile in place, he pulled it open.

“I’m alright Noct.”

It was then than the prince stepped out of the way, allowing for Prompto to cautiously make his way out of the bathroom. At the moment, any loud sound would probably spook him back into the bathroom. So, no one said anything until he was a bit further away from the bathroom door. His eyes darted around the room and he waited for them to say something, which they took as a sign that it was okay to speak now. But none knew how to start.

In the end, it was Gladio who spoke first.

“How the hell are you so small.” He said, a frown on his face. Prompto’s face immediately dropped into an offended frown.

“Gladio!” His father snapped, disapproval clear in his tone.

Gladio winced, but continued, “What? It’s true! He’s like, half the size he was when he went into the bathroom.”

“It’s because his wings were making his shoulders look bigger is all,” an accented voice cut in from the door way.

Prompto turned to look at the woman who stood there, her hand had been raised to knock but clearly, she couldn’t stop herself from explaining. Typical of owls. Her face was a mask now but being around Ignis made him able to see the slight embarrassment in her eyes. It made him give her a small smile, even though the doctor’s coat she had on was a little intimidating. But what truly settled her as a person he liked, was her last name.

“Ah, Dr. Kennt,” king Regis began, offering her a smile, “Good to see you again.”

Ignis spoke fondly of his flying teacher. Barn owl patterns were rare, and often needed a specific teacher to be found for young owls to learn how to fly. And she was his. That explained why Ignis looked slightly pleased. Seeing his circle and part of his pattern family in the same place clearly put him a good mood. (Good enough for pizza tonight? Maybe.)

“Your majesty,” She bowed her head toward him before continuing, “It’s good to see you as well.”

Her eyes looked Regis up and down before meeting his gaze and stating, “You haven’t been doing your stretches again.”

That made the Regis’s face slightly turn pink, and Noctis shoot a smug look at Gladio. A cough left Regis, “Well, more on that later. We need a wing check on Noctis’s young friend here.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Sunna then turned to Prompto, looking at his wings first, then his face. “Right, Scientia explained on the way. This won’t take long. Do you want everyone here for this, or would rather some privacy?”

“I…” He glanced at his friend and then the adults and then back at her, “I think I would prefer my friends here?”

“Right.” She nodded and turned toward the group, “I’ll be starting now.”

She gestured to a stool that she spotted to Prompto. “Can you sit there? That’ll let me examine your wings while you’re a bit more comfortable.”

He did so and tried not to squeak when he felt her feeling along the bones of his wings. She did so in silence for a bit, and he could think of nothing to say.

“Can you extend and hold them out please?” She then said.

“Oh. Sure.” He said quietly, before extending his wings out to his sides. She started feeling the bones again, starting from the outside this time. As the minutes passed though, it was getting increasingly difficult to hold them were they were. That was when she reached the base of his wings and started feeling his shoulders. It was then that she happened to push on a sore spot that Prompto didn’t know he had.

“Owch!” His wings pulled in quickly, accidently hitting Sunna on her shoulders, part of her wings, and face.

She shook her head slightly to reorient herself while Prompto turned around and stood in a panic.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that!” He started. But before he could work himself back into a frenzy, she cut in.

“No, no, it’s quite all right. Happens all the time.” She said, fixing some of the strands of hair out of her face, and then carefully pushed on Prompto’s shoulders to sit him back down, aware of what Ignis had described as a flighty nature. “I’m finished with the exam anyways. Just have a few questions now.”

“Really?” He was wringing his hands, as if he did something more horrible than bump her with his wings.

“Yes. Simple right?” She nodded to herself once she felt like she was presentable. Though, there was a feather out of place on her wings that Ignis stepped forward and straightened for her.

“Ah, thank you Ignis.” She smiled at him and then turned back to Prompto, “Now, what age did you start wearing this wing binder?”

“Uh…” Prompto thought back and tried to recall. “Nine I think.”

“So…right around when the down on your wings started changing into a pattern?” Sunna brought out a note pad and started writing her observations and his answer down.

“Yeah, that sounds right.”  He started to chew on his bottom lip, “But…I really was hurt for a while, that’s what made the binder necessary when I was nine.”

“Can you tell me about it?” Sunna looked up at him, doing her best to hide her worry. If he was hurt and healed, but continued wearing the binder, then there might be complications.

“Well, it wasn’t anything too big? I mean…I followed a chickadee, the bird kind I mean, into a tree and sort of fell? It sprained one of my wings. It was…just luck really that it was around the time my pattern came in.” He turned slightly red.

She nodded, a little relived. A sprain wouldn’t have been too bad, and the binder would have helped the bone stay still and ensured the sprain wouldn’t develop into a break, nearly impossible to overcome if complications had set in. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be wearing it for so long.

“Did you choose to wear it, even past healing?” An uncomfortable question, but necessary. If his parents made him, it might be a case of child neglect. If he chose to, then it might mean he was trying to hurt his wings. Some of the younger winged people did hurt their own wings when distressed. Mostly plucking, but the odd binding cases did appear every so often.

“I did.” He answered quickly and looked faint. Possibly a lie, but she’d take it for now until trust was built.

“Hm.” She nodded her head and wrote her thoughts down as well, “And one last question, your birthday?”

He answered her, and she frowned. “Ah…well.”

“Is something wrong?” Noctis called, finally unable to resist going over to his friend.

“No, not…Well, it could be worse.” She said, straightening up and then turning to address the king to report. “He’s fine. Wing are normal and healthy, other than some muscle weakness from lack of use, and late stage development.”

“And that means…?” Cor asked before the king could say anything.

“It means he’s still growing.” She turned to Prompto and then looked at the prince standing beside him. “Prompto, if you wouldn’t mind standing?”

“Huh? Oh, sure.” He stood up and then glanced around, unsure what everyone was seeing.

“He’s the same age as his highness, but…”

It was then that he realized what she was talking about. Noctis had at least four inches on him and was a lot broader than him.

“If I didn’t know his age, I would have placed him at Eleven or Twelve. Not 15.” She said, and that made him flush bright pink. “He even still has some of his juvenile feathers.”

She gently turned him around and gestured to the bits of down still at the base of his wings, but then let him go. “You can sit down with your friends now.”

He nodded but didn’t really get much of a say really. Noctis practically dragged him over to where he and the others were sitting and didn’t give him much space either. Once he was settled, Sunna continued.

“Prompto here will be perfectly fine, and his wings are healthy, like I said,” She wrote something else down and then put her note book away. “But his body will start trying to catch up to where it’s supposed to be. Wings especially. And…”

She glanced over at Ignis, then back at the king, “Judging by the muscle tenderness and his feathers, he won’t be able to fly yet.”

“I see.” Regis nodded, and seemed thoughtful. “Thank you Doctor. You can go now.”

She bowed again, and then said, “Thank you, your majesty.”

They were silent until she was gone, and then the four once again burst into chatter.

“Told you he was small.”

“Oh stuff it, aren’t kestrels tiny anyways? Maybe this is normal?”

“Your highness, she just said he was still growing. Besides, Crowe isn’t as small.”

“She thought I was eleven! Are you kidding me?”

This time Regis was the one to clear his throat. “Prompto. You do realize what this means right?”

The four sobered at that, and Prompto said quietly. “That I’ll be staying in the citadel, right?”

He didn’t want to. But he doubted they would let him go. Maybe if he cried? They said he looked like a child, so maybe he’d make them feel bad enough to release him. Or not. He doubted he had the energy for tears.

“Yes. But you needn’t worry. Everything will be taken care of.” Regis rose to his feet then, Clarus helping him stand.

He was going to leave, so Prompto decided to ask before he was gone. “Your Majesty? What about my parents? Or my things? I know you said things will be taken care of. But…”

“Your parents will be located and the situation explained. As for your things, we could send someone to get them tonight, or it could wait until tomorrow. I was informed, while looking for you, by Noctis that you’d planned on staying the night?”

He nodded. “I guess…getting anything else can wait until tomorrow. I have enough for the night.”

“Very well. Tomorrow we will have someone go with you to pack your things. Perhaps even Lady Crowe? She seemed keen on spending time with you. …Noctis, if you stare like that for too long your face will get stuck that way.”

Prompto turned around and saw the wide-eyed face Noctis was making for a brief moment before he ducked his head and a flush overtook his face, “Yes father.”

It made Prompto snicker, and he nodded. “Okay.”

“But we’re going too.” Muttered Noctis behind him, jealousy on full display, and Prompto struggled not to laugh.  

“With that, I bid you all good night. And please, don’t harass the glaive and use your friends as an alibi this time Noctis?” Regis said, a smile on his face as he left. Clarus shot a look at Gladio, who pointedly was looking at the ceiling. He suspected the young shield had helped the prince, but had no proof. Only Noctis had gotten caught last time. Cor, who’d been mostly silent, stayed behind for a moment.

“I’ll be the one to tell your mom kid. I also have a few questions.” He said, walking over and rustling his hair.

Prompto sighed and then looked up at him, “You’re…not going to be mad at them, are you?”

Rather than lie, Cor said, “We’ll see. Alright? Even if we do we’re siblings. I doubt Adoria would let me be upset with her for long.”

“I guess.” Prompto let out a small laugh, “Just…I don’t want them to worry. Or to be in trouble.”

“They won’t be. Alright? I got to go now. I’ll be seeing you.”

“See you Cor.” He said and offered him a small wave. Cor shut the door behind him, and he immediately felt relaxed now that it was just his friends.

Once they were alone though, Noctis grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked Prompto over the head with it.

“You should have told me!”

Prompto knew exactly what he was talking about, and picked up where they left off, “Oh, what was I supposed to say! Hey, I’m a kestrel, don’t tell anyone?”

“Yes!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

They bickered back and forth for a while, but there were no teeth in their argument. (Just a few more whacks with a pillow from Noctis to drive how flustered Noctis was about the how ordeal home.)

They settle into gaming and Ignis really was in a good enough mood to order pizza rather than cook. Gladio didn’t hold it against him for biting him thankfully, although he did seem to hold a grudge against him for beating him in moogle cart. With how normal the night was turning out, it made Prompto think things might be okay.

Hibiscus

LeviathanxReader

Notes: PFFT This is a pairing I never thought I’d be writing, but I saw this odd/hilarious/cool post about how to woo Leviathan. (And I hate that I had to read the word Hydrussy BUT HEY ITS A COOL IDEA.)  Like, this small idea took off in my head and the only way to get it out was to write it. (This is all @joioliviapolaroid‘s fault pfft, hope you don’t mind I wrote this.)

Summary: You’ve spent your life in love with the sea, and she just happened to like you enough not to kill you on sight the first time you met. 2969 words. 

It started when you were young.

At the time, you were a child playing in the ocean. The waves pushed at your shins as you danced in the tide. The water was a soundless song, the tempo dictated by the moon’s cycle. Part of you wondered why the water followed it so closely, but the rest of you didn’t want to think, enjoying the water in the way only a child could. You saw beauty and peace where adults would look at the waves with fear.

Maybe that’s why you saw her.

Playing in the water had caused you to lose track of time. The sun was almost all the way down, and moon just beginning to rise. A rare twilight, where both moonlight and sunlight met on the beach. What pulled you out of your revelry was the sight of a woman in the water as you were. Only she wasn’t dancing. She stood still and looked to the horizon.

She was gorgeous, in a way you couldn’t quite name. Her skin was dark, the color of sharp rocks near the cliff, darkened by the water that was constantly sharpening their points. A rich black that could only come from the combination of earth and sea. Across her body were bright blue tattoos. So reflective was the ink, it was as if the waves depicted on her were taken right from the sea in the middle of a bright sunny day. Her face was warm and strong, and her eyes were hard. But not cold. Rather, they were deep. Dark and soothing. There was no other way to describe them. And her dress blended seamlessly with the sea foam at her ankles, flowing around her legs as if there was a gentle breeze.

And while she was so gorgeous, you were a child. So the only thing you fixated on was the bright red flower tucked behind her ear, held in place by her many braids. It didn’t take long for you to walk up to her, and while normally, the sight of another person to play with would have brought you running, something inside you told you to walk. To be on your best behavior. And upon reaching her, she turned to look at you, a subtle look of surprise on her face. With her eyebrows slightly raised, she knelt in the water to be on your level.

“Hi.” You said softly, shyly, which was out of character for you. “Why do you have that flower in your hair?”

She tilted her head slightly, and seemed to regard you with rarely used curiosity. When she spoke, it was the same song of the tides that met your ears.

“It was made for me, and so it is my favorite.”

And with that, she rose back to her feet, seemingly having sated her curiosity.

“Child, run back the way you came.” Without touching your shoulders, she guided you to turn around. “Go, and do not look back.”

With words so grave, you felt compelled to listen, and did as she wished. It wasn’t until you were back on the grass further up from the beach, your family’s home in sight, that you felt safe enough to turn around. You watched as she stepped out of the water, and walked along the beach. But then, while you were watching, she slowly faded out of sight. Where her hand had hovered above your shoulder, a mark of two lines appeared. Like her own tattoos, they depicted waves. Only, it looked like a birthmark rather than the blue of her own, and for years to come would be unnoticed by you.

That night, your mother told you to story of Leviathan, a feared beast, the anger of the ocean. Mother of the tides and spirit of the deep. Your mother also told you of how people used to worship her, pray to her, and she never listened. Taking loved ones and drowning them. The vicious waves and currents that could steal someone from the beach if they dared turn their back on her. Cruelly ending lives before they’d begun. People vanishing on the water never to be seen again. She was to be feared, reviled, but respected.

But that day, the woman had given you a gift. Now, when you looked at the tides, the song that was once silence had turned into symphonies of creation and destruction in equal measure.

~

When you were a teenager, you’d gone back to the beach many times, nearly daily, hoping to get a glimpse of the woman again. The threat of daemons rising from the sands nearby, and the long trek home in the dark, did not daunt you. You’d learned from the hunters how to evade, and were aided by the sand refusing to give under your feet when you ran. Of course danger was ever present, but there was no where you felt safer than the beach.

Now that you were older, you were sure that the woman you had seen that day had been the goddess of the sea herself. Only, you’d never seen her again after that night. But you held faith in your heart, and had nothing but kind thoughts for the goddess. In the water, before the sunset and after the moon rose, you would leave flowers on the edge of the waves. Red ones. Always red. The next morning when you’d come back, some of them would be returned to you, sitting on the sand as if the water had rejected them.

But the red hibiscus flowers were always gone.

Eventually, you’d stopped bringing all others, and even made a ritual out of talking to the waves about your day when you’d sent them. As long as you knew that someone was there, listening silently, it helped you when you were hurt, and made you happy when you weren’t. Occasionally, on certain days, you’d whisper old prayers that you’d learned from an old woman in town. Ones that still remembered the goddess before her rage, and offered her the respect and reverence that had been stripped from her when all that man spoke of was her anger.

They spoke of protection, and of a long-forgotten title.

Sometimes, you’d read from your journal that you kept of writing and drawings. Poems you’d written for her, made from the memory of a child who didn’t know she was supposed to be feared. And as you aged, you spoke of her beauty, never mentioning the danger she was known for. You wrote of the sea as a person, capable of anger and love. Some of them were ever written to the melody of the waves, becoming instead songs of the sea. Drawings of the memory of her tattoos, colored to match their brilliance. But you’d never been able to capture their exact color. Portraits of her eyes. The hem of her dress as it had blended into the foam. There were also drawings of ships and sailors preparing to leave the shores. Or the hibiscus flowers you grew and would pick just for the ocean.

And for the first time that day, you’d finished a journal.

As you thumbed through its contents while sitting on the sand, you realized you didn’t know what to do with it. Poems no one else had read, drawings never seen by anyone but you.

It felt right, when you cast it into the waves with the flower.

“It’s for you.” Was all you said that day, and then you turned and left to go back home.

~

As an adult, people were beginning to whisper about you. You’d grown unparalleled in beauty, unrivaled in kindness, and known for having a strange connection to the sea. There were many suitors that you’d rejected in your small seaside town, and all would meet unlucky fates at the hands of the waves. As if the sea itself was warning them away from trying again. And for the few that insisted on trying to force you into a relationship you didn’t want, it was rare they came back from their next trip on the sea.

Some began calling you Leviathan’s kindness. Her priestess. The woman who was given gifts from the waves. Whereas people knew that the goddess was anything but kind and would only hurt those who dared to try crossing her waters, you could heal with what she would use to hurt.

Women would come to you for multiple reasons. Some for love spells, to give a man’s heart a nudge, or to grant him the courage needed take the next step. Those spells were easy, but would take time. Others to escape. For a way out of their situation. To heal their bruises and their souls. Those were longer, but took effect almost instantly.

“Take this seashell, and when you see him next, crush it over your heart. And then you shall be free from the love you feel for him.” You told one woman, who’s eye you had helped heal with sea water when it had been swollen shut. You ensured that she wouldn’t be blind in that eye, and the rest of her bruises, after being massaged with a paste of hibiscus petals and sea foam, were gone by the next day.

You placed the seashell in a sachet of linen, easily hidden in the front pocket of the woman’s shirt, and handed it to her. “Then you must take a boat away from here, but have no destination in mind. Cast away your oars and lay down in the boat and sleep. She will take care of you if you trust her. When you arrive at safety, throw a bottle with words you feel are right back into the water.”

“Thank you,” The woman said, “Thank you so much.”

Others began to call you a sea witch.

“Where is she?!” The man raged, days after the woman’s visit, throwing the things in your home into disarray. Papers strew about in rage, books thrown carelessly on the floor, bottles of water upended, and seashells, the gifts the sea left for you, smashed to pieces. Outside, you could feel a storm building in your bones.

With the sea behind you outside the window, with its song ever present, you were brave.

“Gone. You’ll never hurt her again.”

Your eyes were as cold as the sea in winter, and he continued raging. The man wanted to get his way. He threw a piece of broken bottle at you, it’s jagged end catching your cheek. You allowed the blood to drip down your face and fall to the floor, where it mixed with the sea water he’d spilled. The cut was deep, but you didn’t care.

But she did.

The sound of a bellowing scream came from the sea, and the man paled.

“Witch!” He spat, before fleeing your home to run back to the town.

You’d never heard that sound from the sea before, and went outside to see what could have made it. But also, to show that you were unharmed. And the only thing you saw was the crashing of the waves on the sand.

~

That night, the song changed. Creation had never sounded so soft, nor destruction so soothing. Barefooted, you left your home and walked down to the beach, and then into the water to stand where you were when you were a child. This time it was fully night, but the moon was already setting. Yet, even with the difference, you could feel her there. You took a few steps further out into the sea, and waited. And when you felt that it was time, you turned around.

There she stood, ankle deep in the ocean, looking exactly as she did all those years ago. It was as if she had never left that spot. But this time she beckoned to you. The movement was like a siren’s call, and you couldn’t do anything else but follow.

Slow measured steps, following her at a respectable distance. You never took your eyes off her, a feeling warning you away from doing so. Not that you wanted to. The woman, goddess, you’d been talking to and offering prayers for years was in front of you. The same deity that granted you gifts and your connection to the sea. Why would you look away?

Upon stepping on the sand, it felt different, but you didn’t dare look down. It was as soft as powder, yet you knew if she willed it, it could shred your feet in seconds. It was the feeling of the sand, cool yet warm under your feet, that let you know this wasn’t the beach you had just been on. No, this was a place between the water and the sea sand of your home. A place only she could come.

And she’d brought you.

You followed her on this endless beach, the water behaving strangely to the right of you. Your connection to the water, to her, allowed you the knowledge of knowing not to touch the water again now that you’d left it. The song was wrong.

When the sun started rising, you could see a small cottage. The wood was weathered, like it had seen many sea storms and was rubbed smooth by the sand around it. She entered first, and given that she hadn’t told you to stop following, you went inside too.

Your eyes, even though you just came in from outside, didn’t need to adjust to the change in lighting. A strange sort of ease settled over you the moment you came through the door. It was like coming home. And all around the cottage, you could see the flowers you’d sent her. Eternally kept alive, some gathered in bushels, some strung up on the walls. But the best ones had their stems held in the pages of the journals she had collected over the years.

When you went to walk further into the cottage, strong arms wrapped around you from behind. Her skin was cool and thrummed with energy unending. You wanted nothing more than to turn around to see her face. But you held still. One of her hands drifted up to your face, turning your injured side toward her. You closed your eyes the moment she pressed a kiss to the cut, and suppressed a hiss of pain as it healed. The healing she did always felt like rubbing salt in the wound until it was finished.

After she finished, it was then that she reached down and held your hands in hers, trapping you in her embraces and your own. You leaned back, pressing your head against her shoulder, and finally allowed yourself to look up at her. She met your stare with her own, and you found something like love there. You knew that gods could not love like mortals do, but what was in her eyes rant as deep as the deepest part of her domain.

It was then that she interrupted your thoughts. Her hand resting against your cheek again, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, teasing. But then she pressed her lips to your and let you turn around in her arms. Her hand then slid back to fist in your hair, pulling your head back to kiss at your neck, lingering on your pulse. It felt like the tide had swept you away and soon you lost yourself to her.

~

It was after, when you lay in a tangle of blankets at her side, with her eyes watching your every move, that you spoke.

“Why me?” You asked, your voice as small as the day you met. You were human, insignificant compared to the eternity of her life. And while you loved her, you knew it was not returned. A god couldn’t feel love as a human does after all.

She was silent for a moment, appearing to gather her thoughts while tracing your collar bones with feather light touches. But then her hand trailed over to your shoulder and slowly, she began to hold you so tightly, her nails began to leave indents in your skin.

“I think you were made for me, and so you are my favorite.” Was her answer, and a part of you felt uneasy at the thought of being a belonging of the goddess. But another part of you recalled her fondness of the Hibiscus flower, and how it has spanned centuries. Since the first moment, according to the story, that Titan created it and gifted it to her, in memory of a woman she had failed to protect, coloring the petals with the woman’s blood.

And so you smiled, and leaned forward to press another, this time chaste, kiss to her mouth which she gladly returned.

~

All the town’s people found on the beach, the night after you went missing, was your footsteps going into the tide. Some side that Leviathan had finally killed the last of her compassion, and now only her anger was left. But the women whispered of Leviathan calling you home. Of you having gone to her side as your reward for being so faithful to the sea.

Sometimes, people would see the image of you walking on the beach, hand in hand with a woman who’s features no one could quite make out. And it is said, to this very day, that if you were in trouble and needed to find safety, that you could walk the beach and a woman might appear before you, offering advice and magic to aid you. People, every year on the day you vanished, would set red hibiscus flowers onto the sea. Both for Leviathan, and the woman who remembered that the goddess, though thought of as cruel, was kind.

Hi!! I was wondering if you would mind fulfilling a request? Ignis and reader aren’t together, but he starts getting jealous of the boys flirting with them! (Little does he know they do it on purpose to make him confess to her huhuhu)

He knows he’s staring, and he doesn’t mean to. 

Ignis Scientia prides himself on being a man with a great deal of patience and self-control. He knows for a fact that he’s better at it than the majority of people. But unfortunately for him, he was running out of both.

It all started after Insomnia fell. They’d seen the city from the distance, and from that day on spent the day in a numb haze. Going to the Marshal, collecting the blades, and then finally allowing themselves rest at a haven. Everyone was in a somber mood, but he’d found himself glancing at you every so often. 

He thanked the Astrals that he hadn’t lost any of his brothers nor the one he loved. Which in turn made him realize he did love you, and while he wanted to tell you as soon as he realized it, he held off. So soon after loss wasn’t the time for declarations of love. 

Then, more things came up. It just…Wasn’t the time. Between travelling, the covenants, hunting, and looking for tombs, he kept pushing it back. Not the time.

Now he was watching you training with Gladio, back pressed to his torso as he guided your hands to to proper placement for your weapon. His hands covering yours. And while he knew Gladio was nothing but professional when it came to training, he couldn’t quell the surge of jealousy he felt in his chest. 

And it only got worse when Gladio suddenly wrapped one arm around your waist and lifted you off your feet with a grin. You started laughing of course, kicking your feet and trying to get away. (Only half-heartedly it looked like, to Ignis’s jealous eyes.)

“Uh…Iggy?” Prompto called, bringing his attention away from you and Gladio. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” He said sharply, indicating that something was indeed wrong. And with unusually observational eyes for once, Prompto evaluates him, seemingly calculates, and then raises his hands in surrender. He knows when to back off, and leaves Ignis to his thoughts. 

If the food was a little burned that night, no one mentioned it.

~

The second time it happened, Prompto and you were playing with the Chocobo chicks. The both of you were sitting cross legged on the ground, facing each other. Multiple chicks were hoping around you, clamoring for your attention, or to claim some of the space in your lap to enjoy your warmth. 

You smiled, and Ignis nearly melted at the sight. Your face was relaxed, and your eyes soft, as if you’d just woken from a lovely dream. But then a sharp stabbing jealousy lanced through him, when he realized that smile and stare was directed at Prompto. So he forced himself to turn away, shaking his head as if he could shake the feelings out of it. 

“Hey specs, whats with the face?” Noctis was beside him, and looked genuinely concerned about him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He replied, managing to wrangle the glare from his face and force a neutral mask back in place.

Noctis glanced at him, and then over at you before saying, “Riiight…”

He left it at that, not wanting to bring down his adviser’s wrath on himself. 

~

He was getting tired of these feelings and frustrated that he didn’t know what to do. 

You and Noctis sat down on the dock of the Quay, feet hanging in the water even though the prince was loath to do so. It scared away the fish. Both of you were simply basking in the sun like a pair of cats, occasionally flicking water at each other with your feet. He didn’t know what you two were talking about, but the smiles on your face made his heart clench. 

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you just told them Iggy.” Gladio spoke behind him.

Ignis glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gladio in turn rolled his eyes, “You don’t fool me. How you’re acting is obvious. If you like them, say something.” 

Ignis chose not to answer him instead of replying, going back to watching both you and Noctis. But then you seemed to feel his eyes on you, turned around to wave, and gave him a bright smile. He couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction of smiling warmly back and holding up a hand in greeting. You then turned away and he was stuck hearing Gladio give a disbelieving snort.

“See?”

Ignis, with a mild bit of embarrassment, only replied, “You…may be right.” 

~

It was later, when the boys were away rough housing in the sand, you two ended up alone preparing dinner. You were chopping vegetables, while he prepared a broth to make soup. You were both silent, but it was a companionable one. At least, until you broke it.

“You know, the boys have been saying some interesting things these past couple days.” You started, a fond smile on your face.

Ignis’s hands faltered in stirring the broth, as if the thought of the past few days bothered him. “Oh, have they? Anything I could be concerned about.”

A soft laugh left you, “Nothing that should worry you. They mean well.”

“You make me wonder just what they told you.” He hid behind a smile and stared at the pot as if it might run away with the broth.

So intently was he staring, he didn’t notice that you had come up beside him, not until you leaned up and pressed against his side. He froze, his eyes widened, and the very rare event of his mind turning to static happened. You watched his face for any negative reaction, and upon seeing none gave him a nervous smile. 

“It started with Gladio,” you began, “When we were training, he saw that you were watching us more so that usual. I thought it was because you were worried, but he claimed it was because of something else, but refused to tell me.” 

A slow blush started creeping onto his face, and you took that as a sign to hold his hand, gently, softly enough that if he wanted to pull away, he could.

But he didn’t.

“Then at the chocobo ranch, Prompto mentioned how you were glaring at him, and he was scared to look over at you in case you were mad at him. But you weren’t mad…were you.”

Subtly, he shook his head, finally turning to look at you.

“Then Noctis today. He flat out told me you were jealous. I thought he was teasing me, but…It gave me enough hope and bravery to do this.” 

It was then that you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “He told me to act on how I’ve felt, and how he said you felt, for a long time.”

“He’s…not wrong.” Finally, a blush in earnest took over his face, and he covered his eyes with his hands, “I…Yes, I care for you. Deeply. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but…”

“It was just never the time.” You finished and smiled even brighter. “They were doing it on purpose you know. Making you jealous. They wanted you to confess.”

You didn’t need to say anymore, because he uncovered his face and leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “They’re going to be insufferable when they find out it worked.” 

“But it was a for a good cause.” You laughed.

The rest of the night, you spent talking about nothing, simply enjoying the other’s voice, and holding hands when neither of you were busy. The boys, contrary to what you both thought, were perfectly behaved….

For that night at least. 

Through Shaded Eyes

World of Ruin Drabble

Summary: Takes place a few months after Distorted Reflections. Loqi is trying to reach a decision on whether to stay in Lestallum, or go back to running from demons. (Aranea is worried for Loqi’s mental health, and Cor is worried the idiot might actually leave)

Loqi focused, depression implied. 

AO3 Link

~~~~

He stared into the darkness, toward Ravatogh, fixating on
the distant point. There was a small settlement that way, or had been. If he
made his way there…

“Loqi?” A hand shook his shoulder.

He turned to face the hunter, who had a strange look in his
eyes. “We’re almost finished loading the truck, and are about to head back.”

He turned his head and looked at the rest of the group,
settling around the boxes and taking their seats for the ride back.

“Right. Coming.”

~

Later on back in Lestallum, Loqi stood leaning against the
side of a building, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Today he’d gone and helped
in the kitchens again. Gifted the young Amicitia with a bolt of cloth he’d
happened across, again. Then ended up going out on an expedition for supplies
with a small group of hunters again. Then returned. Again.

It scared him to think about just how far he’d settled into
a routine here in Lestallum.

This was meant to be temporary. A place to heal until he
could hit the road again. Curse Cor and his stubbornness, but he’d been right.
Loqi knew he’d never have lasted out in the world with his ankle as badly
sprained as it was. Looking back, it also scared him how final he thought that
last rest in the diner was going to be. And just how okay he’d been with the
idea of perishing. Finally, he could rest.

No matter.

He pushed himself off the wall and set out toward the small
apartments that the hunters shared. Perhaps it was time to move on. It’d been
on his mind this past month more than he’d like to admit. As the days passed,
he could feel the tensions around him growing. The only other person who could
be considered a Nif was Aranea, and she was more than welcome due to her past.
She’d abandoned her post in the end, long before the long night set in. She’d
saved people and still went out looking for survivors every chance she got.

But Loqi? He’d been loyal to the last moment, and could do
no more than the next hunter ever since he lost his mech in Tenebrae.

Speaking of the hunters, though they appreciated his skills
when outside of Lestallum, they were starting to look at him differently. Their
faces held something in them he couldn’t decipher, and he didn’t like not
knowing. Were they planning against him? Plotting an accident? It’d be easy to
explain that the former Nif general had gotten himself killed on a mission with
them. It happened all the time. And it would be no more than he deserved after
what his homeland had done.

Better to leave before they could extract revenge, right?
That’s what he told himself anyways.

“Loqi, you keep that frown on your face for too long you’ll
end up with wrinkles.”

He hadn’t been aware he was frowning, but the frown deepened
at the voice.

“Maybe then I’ll look my age.” He replied, stopping and
turning to face Aranea. Think of the devil and all that he guessed. “Something
you need?”

She caught up with him and he started walking with her. “Nothing
much. Just checking in on you I guess.”

She said it nonchalantly, slowly shrugging her shoulders and
keeping her eyes forward. The words rang through his memories, making him
recall back to when he’d first been promoted to general at 17. She’d checked on
him then too. Frequently. She didn’t have a need to before then, considering
she’d trained him. But when he’d first started on his own, she looked in on
him. As much as she liked to pretend that she didn’t care for people, she cared
very deeply. Especially for those younger than her.

He recalled reading her file one night when he’d still been
new, and saw that it mentioned a younger brother very briefly, and only in the
past tense. He knew better than to bring it up. (And he would never allow him
to voice how he found it touching that she did care that he’d been a kid when
first facing war.)

“We’re far from the empire Aranea. You’ve no need to keep up
with me.” He said, just as nonchalantly as she did. He knew it was mean of him,
to dismiss her way of showing she cared so easily. “Training was a long time
ago.”

What he didn’t know was that it would cause her to smack him
in the back of the head. It was hard enough to smart, but not enough to cause
actual harm.

“Ow.” He glanced at her with a glare, which she met with a
glare of her own.

“And you know that I don’t just check on people because we shared
a birthplace.” She stopped in her tracks and he did the same. “I’ve seen the
looks you’ve been getting on your face. It was the same that day you lost your
mech.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing what she was referring to, and
sighed, “Fine. I’ve been doing well.”

“Don’t give me that.” She huffed and then started walking,
faster than he could keep up thanks to her height, “I’m not the only one who’s
noticed you know. Now, normally, I wouldn’t even be saying anything, because I
don’t really give a crap what you do…”

Liar. He knew she cared, but he didn’t see why. There were
more important things after all.

“But even the immortal is worried.”

He couldn’t keep the surprised look from his face. “What
would Cor be worried about me for?”

“We all see it Fluff.” She leveled a stare at him, and
waited for him to catch up with her stride.

“Don’t call me that.” He muttered, a small flush finding its
way onto his cheeks. She hadn’t called him that since he’d been a recruit
training under her.

“You’ve been thinking of leaving, haven’t you.” She said it
as a statement, not a question.

He gave her a small shrug and continued walked toward the
apartments without her. “If I am, it wouldn’t be a large loss. Might even boost
moral.”

“Hey.” She easily caught up with him and grabbed his arm,
stopping him from walking further. He didn’t meet her eye. “Don’t say that.”

He remained silent, but allowed a sigh. She in turn gave a frustrated
growl and grabbed both his arms, turning him to face her. And he allowed it.

“I looked for you, you know.” She began. “After Tenebrae.”

He glanced up at her, trying to gage if she was telling the
truth.

Tenebrae was a mess. The empire had been falling apart, and
he’d been on his way back to Gralea to see if he could save his home, but was,
by chance, forced to stop there. Daemons attacking civilians, the manor still
burning out of spite he assumed, and Aranea in the middle of it, trying to get
as many people as she could on her airship. It’d been a battle with the light
dying as it was. He couldn’t leave her there, and he was proud to say he helped
turn the tide. But then…

His mech blew up. Again. For the last time, because there
had been no repairing it. The thought was an embarrassing one, and he couldn’t
help the cringe. Aranea took that for guilt, because of what had happened
after.

“When I’d saw you there, your eyes. They were as distant and
as tired as they are now. You’d told me you were heading to Gralea, even though
we both knew at the time that the capital was lost, and going there was a death
sentence.” She lightly shook him then, trying to pull him out of his thoughts. “But
then you fought and vanished, and all I could find was your armor. …I sincerely
thought you’d let yourself die, or became a demon.”

Her voice was hard by the end, and barely contained the
emotion she was trying to suppress. As if she was trying to hide that he’d made
her morn him.

“Aranea…” He looked up at her.

Not even the astrals wanted me, was a thought that he kept
to himself, and he quickly shook his head, trying to rid himself of the notion.
If he let himself think like that, he’d definitely end up in a cycle of
thoughts that were better left not being thought.

“You’re not leaving. And if you do, I’ll come and hunt you
down and bring you back, because what you’re doing isn’t…It’s not right.” She
released him then. “That’s all I wanted to say. Because today you…Well to be
honest you look horrible Fluff.”

“Yeah yeah, thanks.” He muttered, and crossed his arms. “So
what should I do. Because I’m clearly not welcome here. You’ve seen their
stares Aranea.”

“You idiot, they’re staring because they’re worried.” She
pressed her fingers to her eyes as if she was fighting off a headache. “Just…remember
what I said. If you do leave, I’m hunting you down, and I’m sure Leonis will
come along too considering he brought you back here the first time around.”

With that she turned and left, as if leaving him with his
thoughts was a good idea. However, he didn’t blame her. She never liked talking
about emotional things, and hearing that she looked for him, out of all the
people in the empire, was an emotional topic. With any luck, she’d go have a
few too many drinks with Biggs and Wedge, and he’d have a head start on getting
lost in the darkness again.

If he left.

A huff of frustration left him and he went inside to his
shared apartment. Now, he was doubting that he wanted to leave, which was new.
It was forcing him to confront the fact that when he felt like this, tired,
drained, exhausted, he’d left where he was for somewhere dangerous. As a 14-year-old,
he’d formally joined the army. As a 16-year-old, he’d trained under Aranea on
some of the most dangerous ops. He’d put his own name up for general at 17, and
got it because he was driven and willing to take smart risks. In his 20s, he
led his own ops at the front lines, not to mention the countless times he’d
thrown himself practically on Leonis’s sword. Tenebrae. Now.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath, and practically flung
himself on his bed. Once there, he took his pillow and placed it over his face
to block out the world. When he felt like this, he left. It was just what he
did. (Never mind that he usually left for dangerous situations. That was
something he wasn’t ready to think about, due to what is might suggest about
himself.)

But did he actually want to leave?

It was just his luck that a familiar voice suddenly cut
through his thoughts.

“If you’re trying to smother yourself, I’m sure there are
more efficient methods than a pillow.”

A sigh that bordered on a groan left him and he took his
pillow off his head to look up at the man looming by his bedside. “Marshal.”

“Aranea seemed…disturbed. I believe her words were, you go
talk some sense into that…” He paused and then considered his words before
continuing. “…Well, I don’t really care to repeat what she called you.” He
looked down at Loqi with a raised eyebrow, “But I do know that if she
personally asked me to talk to you, it must be serious.”

With that, Cor sat on the bed opposite of Loqi’s own bed,
and remained silent, as if waiting for Loqi to speak. To which, Loqi only
offered his trademark glare toward him, and stared.

After a few moments of silence, Cor sighed, “So…I take it
the rumors of you wanting to leave are true?”

“Rumors?” Loqi sat up, and he could feel a headache started
to keep up on him, “What rumors.”

“People are wondering about you. They say after every
mission you stare into the distance. It takes them longer and longer to get
your attention. They’re worried that one day, you’re just going to wander off.”
He paused to observe Loqi’s face, which was staring at him with wide eyed
horror, “You’re not aware you’re doing it.”

No, he wasn’t. But now Aranea’s words about the hunter’s
being worried made sense. Was that what was behind the looks they’d been giving
him? Worry? He turned away and stared at his feet. He never used to be so
transparent, he’d like to think.

“Loqi, I’m aware that you came here reluctantly, but that
doesn’t change that you did come. And when you did, no one questioned it. They
welcomed you.” Cor continued staring at him, and it made him feel smaller than
he’d like. Cor’s eyes seemed like they could read him and everything about him
with a glance, and to have him stare at you for any amount of time was
disconcerting. “You are welcome here Loqi, regardless of whether you think so
or not.”

He got up then, and placed his hand on Loqi’s shoulder,
causing him to look up at him. “If you do decide to leave, come talk to me
first. That’s all I ask.”

He squeezed once, and then left Loqi alone again. Once of
Loqi’s hands reached up and rested on his shoulder where Cor had touched him.
Honestly, he was being touched a lot today, at he didn’t know what to make of
that. He sighed again, and laid back down, curling up to face the wall. At
least Leonis had kept it short.

He closed his eyes, deciding that he wouldn’t leave. For
now, he’d stay. Just to see if what Aranea and Cor said was true.

A Dark Game chpt 2: Waiting

Link to AO3: A Dark Game 

Chapter two is finally up! 😀 Sorry for the wait. OMG.

Chpt 2 Summary: 

It’s been months since Noctis had been by Prompto. Things between Prompto and his father are more strained than ever with his controlled return to Niflheim’s high society. Noctis has been working in the shadows, and a high stakes plan is put into motion. Prompto’s wait is over.

Months passed Prompto by, and what passed for spring around his home settled in. The weather was fair enough for a light sweater if one wished it, thought the chill never really went away. But his people were used to the cold. In fact, they considered this a heat wave almost. People were milling around the streets in outer Gralea, enjoying the sun. If he strained his eyes, he could see some of them in the distance, and tried to get glimpses of their lives. Whatever they were doing was much more interesting than the royal conduct textbook he was currently reading. Or supposed to be. It was very dry.

Tonight, he was supposed to dine with his father, for the first time since he had been reprimanded and forced into this mockery of life. So, as partly a reminder and partly a slap in the face, his tutors had been instructed to have him go over the material before tonight’s party. To ensure that he wouldn’t act as he did during that fateful dinner years ago. For tonight there were diplomats from overseas coming, generals, high ranking lords and ladies of the Niflm court, and since Prompto was no longer a teen, the emperor had decided he could no longer hide him from diplomatic niceties.

A deep sigh left him, and he leaned back in his chair. He was nervous, that much was obvious. But lately an unsettled feeling had been plaguing him. He felt like right around the corner something horrible was about to happen, and he had no way to stop it. But he was consoled by the thought of Noctis coming back for him. He knew it was rather stupid of him to hope that the would-be assassin would return, but still. He’d take whatever small comfort he could get.

A knock interrupted his thoughts and a voice called through the door, “Your highness?”

“Yes?” He called back, quickly turning a few pages to make it seem like he had been reading.

The door swung open and one of the newer retainers, Virtus, a young man around Prompto’s age, training to be his future guard and advisor supposedly, walked in. He still had an air of being unsure about him, but hid it better than most. His only tell was that he’d bite his lips when he was doubting himself. Like now.

“It’s time to get ready?” He said, but it ended up sounding more like a question.

As much as Prompto wanted to let slip that he was like him, unsure in most things like everyone their age, he couldn’t. Such a slip up could lead to his father thinking he wasn’t broken. So, he kept his face a mask of indifference, and nodded.

“Alright.”

He rose from his chair with the grace years of being watched as the prince had taught him. Virtus openly stared at him, like his mind was boggled by how unflappable he seemed. But his caretaker, the man his father had assigned to watch him all these years, was used to it. He was the one who taught him after all.

“Virtus, don’t just stand there, come here.” He snapped, and the young man rushed to the caretaker’s side.

“Yes sir!”

Prompto glided over to his closet and held his arms out to his sides as the man began pulling off his over clothes. He found the extra layers frivolous, but to the rest of the court they were a symbol of his status. Being royal, every movement was supposed to carry weight. The clothes were symbolic of that. A slow sigh left him as they stripped him down to his last layer, a grey undershirt and leggings, and then began to dress him in evening wear.

The first layer ended up being almost formfitting, a simple black pair of pants and a white tank top. He enjoyed being able to freely move while he could, because after that they layered on a ridiculous amount of fabric. Another white shirt, the sleeves almost sheer loose on the arm and fitted below his elbow. A pair of black gloves that only held onto his hand by a single loop around his index finger. Metal bracers that went from his wrist to elbow. A vest with gold and red embellishments that closed at the side. A tan jacket that went down to his thighs and belted closed at the waist and a hood. The hood they put over his head, to hold it until they put the rest of the layers on. Because of course there were more.

He was already overheating.

With his face somewhat obscured while they finished, his eyebrows pinched together, a small visible sign of annoyance that he allowed himself. Any other time, he’d never have dared. But honestly, he felt that this was ridiculous. Recalling his days among the people, also a dangerous thing to do, he remembered the cold, and how even in all his layers he felt it seep into his bone. Meanwhile, his people had to make do with less, or even worse, nothing.

He was suddenly pulled back out of his thoughts when Virtus peeked under his hood. His eyebrows raised, and eyes widened before he could stop them. But just as quickly, he schooled his face back into a neutral expression. He kept his breathing steady, and tried not to think about how that slip of an expression might get him in trouble. And considering that this young man was training to be his retainer, he would most likely report it.

But to Prompto’s pleasant surprise, he didn’t.

Instead he asked, “Your highness, please raise your arms out to your sides?”

“Don’t ask him you fool boy, simply tell him.” The caretaker snapped, annoyance in his voice.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.” The boy winced as if the words had struck him.

They continued and finally took off his hood. By the time they’d finished, he felt heavy and in the mirror, was twice as bulky as before. The black robe he wore under the final white and red coat was reminiscent of his father’s own robes, aside from another belt fitting it closer to his body. The white coat had the royal coat of arms on his back and red strips of leather also going down his front, again, like his fathers.

There was a pang in his chest at how similar they’d look tonight, and all the while they’d be paying the part of a happy family. Sometimes, Prompto deeply wished the act to be the truth. But somewhere along the years, his father had changed. He was, believe it or not, once loved by his people not feared. And back then he’d also treated Prompto as actual family. Unlike now.

“We’re finished your highness.” He caretaker said in his same droll tone once they’d stopped tugging things into their precise places, and Prompto had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Would it kill you to show some emotion,’ he thought bitterly.

Taking in the final effect of his outfit, he took notice of one thing specifically. Unlike his father’s, his clothes only came to his mid-thigh, leaving his legs mostly unhindered. Any other dinner would require him to be in full robes. A brief frown on his face, he knew would be permitted a question because of this change.

“Has father ordered that I wear our summer clothes?” He turned and looked at the caretaker, his face carefully neutral.

“Apologies for this your highness.” His caretaker started, and Prompto very nearly jumped in surprise. He NEVER apologized. Ever.

“While showing Virtus how to press your clothes and prepared them for use, a breeze knocked over a vase in the laundry room and ruined the formal set.” He briefly bowed his head, and Prompto’s eyes flickered over to Virtus and then back.
He wondered just how much trouble they’d both gotten into over that, if the caretaker was apologizing to him.

“I see…Was father informed?” He asked, pushing his luck. But he felt that this would be an understandable question, considering he was only supposed to do what was allowed.

“Yes, your highness.” Virtus answered, his face unsure. “At once when it occurred.”

Prompto nodded and said no more, allowing the caretaker and himself to slip back into their usual routine. He went to open the door and held it for Prompto go through first. He made his way to the dining hall, preparing himself mentally.

Behind him, the caretaker was talking to Virtus.

“We always follow behind, Virtus. Though we are escorting his highness, we are never to walk in front of him.” He said, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. Something Prompto hadn’t heard in a while.

He tuned them out as he caught a glimpse of the entrance up ahead, his father waiting there for him. Very subtly, he picked up his pace.

“Ah, Prompto.” His father said once he noticed them. He looked at him from head to toe, judging his appearance. “Punctual. That’s a change.”

He bowed to his father and said lamely, “Being on time is important.”

He knew his father wasn’t expecting him to give a lively answer. Not since before his seclusion had he been upbeat. Something, judging by the approval in his father’s eyes, he’d wanted. Without another word, and without a glance, his father waved his hand at Virtus and the caretaker.

“You’re dismissed.”

“Your Majesty. Your highness.” The caretaker said in farewell, bowing alongside Virtus, and then quickly leaving.

“Shoulders back Prompto.” His father said as he took his place beside him, and that was that.

He held his head up high, and kept his face indifferent, cold almost, as he strode into the ballroom one step behind his father.

“His Radiance, Imperial Majesty Iedolas Aldercapt, and Imperial Highness Prince Prompto Aldercapt.” Someone announced.

Everyone turned to them and bowed, acknowledging them, and then returned to their conversations. Prompto grounded himself, eyes looking around the room to mentally list who was present and who was not. A few of the lords and ladies he didn’t know, and he figured they must have only recently been elevated to their position. The lower houses always frequently changed under his father’s rule.

It was the higher houses he had to be wary of. They were charming and laughed easily, but every single one of them was cold and cunning behind their beaming smiles. More than one of them had tried to arrange for either an accident for him, or to set up a marriage to their children for him. Some had even done both in the same week he’d heard. But that wasn’t spoken of in polite company. Everyone knew who had made a move and when. The game was not to let it show on your face.

Sometimes he wished masks would come back in fashion. The game would be so much easier then.

“Ah, Prince Prompto, it’s good to see you’ve joined us this evening.”

Prompto mentally stood a little straighter at the voice from behind him. He turned slowly and smiled what could be considered an easy-going smile at Verstael Besithia.

“Good evening Minister, enjoying yourself so far?” He asked, his body language at ease.

Truthfully his stomach was tying itself in knots and he felt rather faint. The Minister was something of an enigma to Prompto. He was feared for his experiments and the evil acts he’d committed in them, but toward Prompto was nothing but kind. It was widely known that he had a soft spot for the prince. But no one knew why. Not even the prince himself.

“That I am. Tell me, Prince, how goes your studies? Have you reached the end of the math curriculum again?”

At this change in topic Prompto brightened a little. He had. He was something of a mathematical and scientific genius. However, his father didn’t value such things. But at least with the Minister, he could discuss it. It had the plus side of no one being able to follow their talk of theories and equations, so no one would approach. And, so long as it stuck to theories and such, he’d found the conversation enjoyable. However, he couldn’t keep it up all night.

“Ah, well. I shouldn’t keep you any longer your highness.” Besithia bowed briefly and then smiled a smile that sent Prompto’s skin crawling, with a changed look in his eyes that was the cold and cunning visage he was used to, “I need to update your father on the recent progress on my current experiment, but look forward to seeing you more now that you’re attending these events again.”

“Right.” Prompto gave him a small nod, and reflected a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Same to you, Minister. Enjoy your evening.”

Once Besithia turned away, Prompto released a breath he’d been holding. He’d been at ease when discussing math. But seeing the changing in demeanor in the minister always unsettled him. He could see why people feared him, and thanked the astrals that he, for some inexplicable reason, liked him.

But he didn’t have long to rest, considering an arm was suddenly slung around his neck and pulling him backwards onto one of the ballroom balconies, and out of sight of the court and his father.

He squawked in surprise, which lead to bright laughter from behind him.

“And here I was beginning to think you’d never show up at one of these again!”

His eyes widened and he fought his way free of the arm, which had only been holding him half-heartedly, and turned.

“Loqi!” Prompto smiled brightly, and practically crushed his one-time best friend in a hug. Or did his best to anyways. It was hard to with the armor he was wearing.

He hadn’t seen his friend since he was 16, and had known him since they were 7 and 10 respectively. He’d used to risk everything to come and see Prompto when he’d first been locked away into seclusion for that first year. And when he’d been caught, because one couldn’t avoid the emperor’s eyes forever, he’d sworn that he’d still be friends with him. Thankfully, the fact that he was a Tummelt protected him. Indeed, the emperor saw it as auspicious that the youngest Tummelt took to the prince so easily, considering that house Tummelt was considered the most loyal house above all others. Loqi’s own father thought so as well, but couldn’t look past that Loqi disobeyed. And Prompto hadn’t seen, or heard of what had become of him since.

“Oh hey, easy! You’ll hurt yourself.” Loqi snickered as he patted Prompto on the back.

Prompto pulled away and tried to hide his watery eyes, rubbing at them furiously to dry them out, “It’s been so long. I thought by now you’d have been sent to basic training by your father!”

“I was.” Loqi said with a smirk. “I finished early.”

It was only then that Prompto fully looked at his armor. It made Loqi look a lot larger than Prompto was, which was saying something considering they were both on the beanpole side of the scale. Plus, it made him taller. The metal was unyielding, and if he had to guess, he’d say it was meant for combat. But what drew his eye was the royal red favor hanging from his right shoulder, with Prompto’s family crest in gold adorning it. Beneath that was the Tummelt family crest. It both marked where his loyalty was placed, to the Aldercapt family, while simultaneously declaring his house name.

“You,” His eyes snapped up to Loqi’s face, which still bore the smirk and now also held pride in his eyes, “You’re a general!”

“Yup!” Loqi reached a hand up and traced the edge of the fabric. “As it turns out, I have a natural aptitude for the mechs, and great strength in strategic planning. So much so, that I rose through the ranks quickly.”

Prompto wanted to jump up and down for his friend, because this was a monumental accomplishment. Becoming a general at age 23 was unheard of! But he couldn’t. Though they were out of sight of the ball room, it wasn’t very far. If he was too loud, they would be heard. But then Prompto realized something.

“That means you’ll have a seat on my father’s council.” He stepped closer to Loqi and grasped his hands in his, just holding them like when they had been children. “Loqi, that’s a life appointment.”

“I know.” Loqi’s smirk softened into a true smile, something that only Prompto had ever been able to bring out. “So, one day I’ll be on your council Prom.”

Loqi’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he continued, “The changes you wished for. We can still bring them about.”

Prompto’s chest tightened with warmth, and as dangerous as speaking those words was so near the court, a wistful smile crossed his face upon replying. “There’s nothing I’d like more than that.”

They both stood in silence then, simply enjoying the others company. It’d been so long since either had seen a friendly face. Both were recalling when they’d been younger, and though both were only just reaching their 20s, each felt older than the last time they’d seen each other. And if he was being honest with himself, the fact the Loqi remembered their conversations from years ago, and the changes he’d wanted once he was emperor, touched him.

But then Prompto sighed and released his hands.

“As much as I want to remain here and talk with you, we both have to been seen at this party.”

Loqi rolled his eyes, an annoyed huff leaving him. “Don’t I know it.”

“I’ll…be seeing you Loqi.” Prompto offered a small and unsure smile to him, to which Loqi huffed once more and pulled him into a hug.

“Count on it. We’re friends, right? Not even the emperor can keep me away forever.”

Prompto laughed into his shoulder, despite how Loqi’s armor dug into him, and squeezed just as tightly as before. He’d like to think, that one day, he’d have more than just stolen moments with his friend.

Once he let go, Loqi made sure he wasn’t too ruffled, and let him return to the ballroom, alone. Though, he was never very far away for the rest of the night, and every once in a while, he would catch Loqi’s face twisting up with barely concealed panic that he’d somehow offended some lady or lord. It’d been a while since he’d been in this kind of situation after all.

Prompto, thanks to his tutoring and his father’s expectations, made no such mistakes.

The rest of the night passed in relative peace. Sure, Prompto has a few people try to pry into just where he’s been, and a few people, the newer lower houses, make snide comments about his wardrobe. He fully expected his father would take away their lord or ladyship as soon as the night was over for that. But it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Soon enough, hours into the party, he found himself being dismissed by his father back to his room. Some excuse made for him about travelling to a different keep in the early morning, to oversee some important thing or the other. He hadn’t paid attention because he knew it was a lie. He’d be in his rooms, as always. Once he was in the hallway, alone, he allowed himself a moment to drop the smile he’d had on for most of the evening, and sighed heavily. He rolled his shoulders and reached up to massage his neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it. Holding his head as high as his father wanted was a surprising amount of work, when it had to be sustained for so long.

But then the moment ended when the young man, Virtus, could be heard around the corner. He straightened and waited for him.

“Ah, your highness.” Virtus said rather brightly for this time of night. He bowed and then gestured down the hall. “I’m to escort you to your room for the night…If that’s okay?”

Prompto had to stifle a laugh, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the young man’s slip. “You’re not supposed to ask, remember?”

He couldn’t resist teasing him. Perhaps seeing his old friend tonight had given him hope that he could make another friend out of this young man.

Virtus’s eyes widened and he bowed, “Uh…oops? Sorry your highness!”

“It’s fine.” Prompto responded easily, and began to walk, “I just don’t want you to get into trouble again.”

“Ah…” Virtus fell into step behind Prompto, walking behind him as he was taught this time. “It’ll happen plenty, don’t worry your highness. I mean…Ugh…that is to say that I am trying, I don’t mean to get into trouble, but I tend to. Er…That’s probably not the most reassuring thing to hear from your future attendant. But…”

Virtus continued babbling, and it set Prompto at ease. Clearly, he was a lowborn citizen. That didn’t make him lesser in Prompto’s eyes, but it meant he wasn’t used to all the pomp and circumstance.
Eventually though, they came to the hall before the maze of the royal quarters, and both paused where they were. All the lights, every single one, was out. A small gasp left Virtus, and quickly, before Prompto could react he was grabbing his hand and running into one of the halls.

“V-virtus?” Prompto called, keeping up with him easily thanks to his return to training, and the fact that his legs weren’t tangling in his robes. Thank the gods for his summer clothes.

“I’m sorry your highness, I really thought I had more time!” He whispered back, hurrying down another hall with Prompto in hand.

“What’s going on?”

Virtus came to a stop in one of the smaller halls, and quickly pulled the prince into an alcove with him.

“I’m sorry. Prince, I’m Lucian.” Virtus looked at Prompto with large eyes, “I was sent by Prince Noctis to watch over you, and got wind of an assassination attempt, but haven’t found out the night yet.”

“Wait…what?” Prompto shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Noctis had been watching over him through his attendant.

Virtus, lowered his voice even further. “It’s tonight. Damn the six, it’s tonight. Forgive me highness.”

He suddenly grabbed Prompto and hid one of his hands inside his robes, summoning something small and then dismissing it in a bright blue light.

“I hope that was enough to hide the light,” He muttered, while releasing Prompto. At least all the layers are good for something Prompto thought.

“What…I mean…What?” He was all sorts of confused. Because assassins were watching over him, but there was an assassination attempt? But that would mean… His face grew somber. “My father.”

Virtus made a pained expression, but then looked back outside the alcove. “Yes, your highness.”

He’d thought it odd that he’d have Loqi serve under him rather than wait for Prompto to ascend to the throne to name him as one of his generals. Looking back, he could make the connection. He named Loqi to the council because Prompto was never going to ascend. But what had he done wrong? He looked back and tried to figure out why his father would want him gone after all the work he’d put into breaking him. The isolation. The strict schedules. Hell, the scripts of what he was and was not allowed to say.

Where had he slipped up?

“Prince!” Virtus suddenly grabbed him and yanked him forward, and when he’d been a dagger was sticking out of the wall.

The two young men glanced at each other and took off down the hall running. Not for the first time in his life did Prompto hate that the Royal halls were meant to be maze like. It was supposed to be easy to escape from a killer, but in this case, only seemed to make it harder.

His attention then turned to his attendant. Prompto hated that this made sense too. Virtus was young, inexperienced. Lowborn. Expendable to his father. Him being the one escorting him rather than his usual, trained in combat, attendant, would be seen as a tragic coincidence. Especially since the assassin would probably make sure to kill them both. Easy to blame the prince’s death on the lucians since there would be no witnesses. Security was low everywhere but the ballroom. There would be no help to reach.

Someone running around the corner in front of them pulled him out of his thoughts. The person rushed toward Prompto, knife drawn and ready, and Prompto couldn’t stop in time. Instead of managing to stab him, Virtus tackled the man before he could reach him. They were soon fighting for the knife, and it was nothing like the fight when he and Noctis met. This man meant to kill them.

“Run Prompto!” Virtus shouted.

And he could do nothing else but comply.

A Dance with Sonitus – ChocobosTrinket (Neverforget94) – Final Fantasy XV [Archive of Our Own]

So I did a thing. I think I’ll start posting on AO3 as well. Might move some of my longer works over there. 

Summary:

After returning from being on the front lines, the Glaive is celebrating surviving another battle with each other. This leads to an interesting moment between the (somewhat) recently transferred in Aramis and long time member Sonitus.

*Takes place during Kingsglaive.

A Dance with Sonitus – ChocobosTrinket (Neverforget94) – Final Fantasy XV [Archive of Our Own]

Lucian Theif

3846 words ~ General

Note: So this happened. I saw this post and just…this happened. Then I got about half way through and was like…Shit this got stupidly long. One of these days I should have someone beta for me. 

Anyhow, it’s just a thing with Cor being the one who snuck in and stole Prompto. Threw in an OC to move the story along. Funnily enough, I almost changed the story completely and had him steal two of the clones instead. But I managed to talk myself out of that. Anyways, enjoy.


It was frigid in the hallway, and the dimmed lights only
added to a feeling of being out of place. And he was very out of place since he
was neither one of Niflheim’s scientists, or one of their experiments. Such was
the nature of Cor’s mission though. Infiltrate the facility, find any useful
information, don’t get caught. 

Being out of place wasn’t anything new.

However, what was new was all the luck he’d been having once
he was inside the building. The first door he’d managed to sneak through lead
to what appeared to be a staff lounge of sorts, giving him a chance to catch
his breath after being outside in the cold. Not only that, but there had been a
map of the facility with a note on it, labeling a recent add on as where the
Deathless project would be stored.

He’d figured that just the map would have been the Astrals
smiling upon him. But the note? That sent red flags up in his head considering
Project Deathless was precisely why he was here. Could someone have leaked
that? Was it a trap? But trap or no trap, he’d have to check out the location
marked on the map anyways. It’d be a good starting point. And on the off chance
it wasn’t a trap, he’d be that much closer to getting the information he needed
and getting out.

So, he’d left the room and embarked down the hall, making
sure to memorize the way back for a quick escape. Occasionally, there was one
of the Magitek soldiers ambling through the halls on a patrol. They weren’t
very good at it though, considering that hiding behind the occasional box or
around a corner seemed to be enough to keep himself out of trouble.

But then he’d stumbled upon a small shelf with papers on it.

He’d grabbed the top most paper on the stack and frowned. A
memo with an all access pass code to the facility. Ironically, it stated that
the employees needed to stop leaving the passcodes laying around. If he wasn’t
careful, the frown on his face would become permanent. This was entirely too
convenient, the enemy must have known he was coming, and he was probably dead
the moment he’d walked through the doors. No. The moment he’d left Lucis

…That, or he’d done something that’d pleased the Astrals
astronomically.

He could guess which was more likely.

But it had him curious. Just what kind of trap was he
walking into? So, he’d continued to the room, which was, predictably, locked
with a keypad. Warily, he punched in the code from the memo and stepped to the
side as the door opened with a pressurized noise. He drew his blade and waited
until the count of five before stepping out from his cover and rolled into the
room. He landed in a crouch and was ready for a fight, tense and waiting. His
focus was on the area around him, and his intuition ready to tell him where any
strike may come from.

So, it was something of a surprise to find nothing popping
out to attack him.

Cautiously, he lowered his blade and rose to his feet, eyes
scanning the room. Nothing. There were no guards, none of the magitek, or even
any scientists.

“Just what kind of security are they running over here?” He
muttered under his breath and he sheathed his sword and started to look through
the room.

It’d been quiet for almost half an hour as he perused the
documents laying around, hoping to find something of use. Since it was so
quiet, when lights turned on behind him suddenly, he’d been startled. He spun
around quickly, hand already on his hilt when he ended up freezing.

His heart clenched. The documents had mentioned infants he
recalled. He’d assumed that had been for a study of some sort. Assigning case
numbers and such. Instead, he was face to face with an unspeakable act. The
light that had startled him was emitting from seven tanks, and inside each one
floated an infant. All of them drifting in their tanks, unware he was there.

Each tank also had what appeared to be paperwork attached to
it. Perhaps holding what he was looking for. Though he hoped not. Slowly, he
made his way over, and with every step his morals were screaming out that
everything about this was wrong. He approached one of the tanks, picking up its
papers, and slowly inhaled before reading. As he read, his face slowly paled,
and his eyes widened by the slightest of margins.

The realization that this was what he was looking
for almost knocked the wind out of him. He looked at the baby in the tank,
floating inside, eyes closed as if it was sleeping, blond hair floating freely
around him.  He’d never been an emotional
kind of man. No. But seeing a child’s face, and knowing what their fate would
be was one of the hardest things he’d ever experienced.

This was Project Deathless.

He dropped the paperwork before he thought better of it,
needed a moment to adjust to the reality he was in. How had Niflheim allowed
this to happen? To let infants be raised for war and nothing else. To be
twisted by demon blood and changed from human to machine.

His hands slightly shook as he picked up the papers to take
them with, recalling just how many of the magitek he’d slain over the years. If
the papers were to be believed, they’d all started out as this. Just a child,
robbed of any other life they might have had.

With a heavy heart, he turned to leave. He had what he
needed. But as he got to the door he paused and looked back. He felt tired and
knew that making decisions when he was tired wasn’t the wisest of choices. But
as he gazed back into the room at the child, he made a choice. He crossed the
room quickly, recalling what he’d read and pressed three buttons.

One to drain the tank, the second to turn off the vital
monitors, and the third to lower the glass.

This wasn’t his best idea, and there was also no way he
could rationalize saving one life, and he knew that this wasn’t atoning for the
countless he’d taken. But his damn conscience wasn’t going to let him walk away
from this child. It was screaming for him to take them all in fact.

But he couldn’t.

Once the glass had dropped, he picked up the child as it
coughed up the liquid and cradled it to his chest. Once the child had finished
coughing, he breathed normally, and his pulse was strong. Considering that the child
had just been submerged in what he assumed was liquid oxygen, his mind turned
traitorous and wondered if the infant was used to switching between air and the
liquid. If so, how many times had the infant been taken out and then placed
back into the tank?

A huff of disgust left him before he could stop it, and he
glanced around the room for anything to cover the child with. If he was taking
him with, he’d need to be covered with something to protect him from the cold. It
was then he noticed the shelves sitting just outside the light of the tanks.
Upon them were heaped what looked like blankets and supplies for the infants.
Bags, food, clothes…

Convenient. Again.

But he didn’t care. For all he knew the child could be a red
herring with false information attached. If that was the case he’d gladly
accept that he’d failed the mission in exchange for saving one of these
children. He quickly packed a bag and filled it with what he could for the
child. Supplies that he’d probably need considering there was no way in hell he
was prepared to care for a child on the way back to his extraction point. Once
a bag was packed and he had it situated on his back he turned his attention to
the baby sleeping in his arms.

As Cor pulled the clothes on him, that was when the child
started fussing. Its eyes popped open and immediately turned watery. Cor
hurriedly finished dressing him and bundled him into a blanket.

“Shh,” Cor scooped the child back up from where he’d lain him
and lightly bounced him, thanking the astrals that he’d seen Regis with the
prince more than once, “Hey now. It’s alright.”

He spoke quietly to soothe the child, and watched the door.
No one was coming so far. But the crying did make him second guess his choice.
Only now did he remember that there were Magitek throughout the halls. Could
the child be quiet enough to make it through them all? Did he dare risk an
alternative route?

But then the baby quieted, and looked at Cor.

Cor without thinking really, offered his pinky to the child.
The baby’s hand grabbed onto him, and cooed, but not happily, no. Rather, he
just wanted to make noise it seemed. Cor kept his face neutral as he studied
him.

Bright blue eyes stared into his and this time a happy coo
did leave the baby’s mouth. Almost as if he was just happy to be looked at.

Cor inhaled slowly and then sighed, knowing this was the
right choice, and turned his attention back to the door.

Back the way he came then. He could make in one shot if he
ran maybe… Wait, shit. Running with a baby. Bad idea. He’d have to go as slowly
as he came, if not slower. Plus, how was he going to explain that the mission
might be a failure? Technically, this was…project Deathless. There was the
paperwork, and he didn’t have to put in the report that he’d pretty much been
guided here… They didn’t need to know he didn’t look anywhere else, right? And
it might not be a red herring!

…

He was so fired.

But, he figured as he looked back down at the baby, it’d be
worth it. If he could get them out of the facility and back to his extraction
point that is.

“What do you think little guy? Can you manage to be quiet
for that long?” He muttered.

The child squeaked rather loudly, but with a smile. Another
slow sigh left Cor, followed by the child reaching up and hitting his nose
lightly.

But that was when he heard footsteps at the door.

His head swiveled up and he froze, as did the woman who’d
began to walk inside.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Sizing each
other up. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have been a problem. She was clearly an
academic. He could have incapacitated her within seconds of seeing her.
However, the child in his arms posed a problem.

Her face, one of shock and fear, slowly turned into narrowed
eyes and a hardened gaze.

“You…You’re Lucian…no?” Her voice was quiet and the words thickly
accented. The woman sounded like she’d hardly spoken a word of Lucian until
this point. But he still understood, and nodded slowly, his own eyes
scrutinizing her, trying to figure out what she was doing.

“Yes.”

She glanced back at the door, giving him a moment of panic
at the thought she was going to go get help. But then she stepped into the room
quietly, and pressed the keypad beside it to shut the door.

“Quickly…The child… She said, turning back to him, her
expression pleading.

“You…want me to take him?” He asked, confusion running
across his face freely. He was anyways, but he’d expected her to have the
opposite reaction. Like trying to stop him.

She nodded and then beckoned him to follow her over to the
computer. He did, though slowly. She placed what looked like a jump drive into
the man computer and began to sort through files. Over her shoulder he watched
the screen. Data from the project streamed across it rapidly, and his grasp of
Gralean only allowed him to catch small phrases, or part of a word. Something
about demons? He frowned and tried harder to translate faster, but she moved
from file to file too quickly.

Eventually, after minutes of silence, she stopped, closed
all programs, and pulled out the drive. Her eyes met his as she handed him what
was probably the most information Lucis would ever have on the Magitek. He took
it from her, looking up with absolute confusion. She shrugged and gestured to
the tanks.

“Project…Deathless.” She scoffed. “Many die.”

She shook her head, “It’s… This is not what…”

She said something in Gralean, which he took to mean she had
meant to help the people. Which he understood how sometimes people could be
twisted against themselves. He could hear the regret in her words. Perhaps she,
like him, hoped to save at least one of the children from a life as a machine.

She gestured to him to follow her again and he did,
tentatively. At the back of the room, a secret hall opened, and she stepped
through. He peeked inside, and jumped when the child suddenly babbled. He’d
almost forgotten he was in his arms. Of all things.

The woman turned and looked at the child fondly, almost with
what Cor could call longing as well. But then she faced forward.

“This path leads to the…The-” She muttered what sounded
like twenty different curses in Gralean before snapping her fingers, “-the
entry hall.”

“No Magitek?” He asked, an eyebrow raised as he followed
her. He knew following her blindly like this was stupid. It was. But part of
him honestly wanted to believe that some shred of human decency could be found
in this facility.

“Some.” She said, and he stopped in his tracks.

But then she held up her wrist, a silver band with a small
red light going off every few seconds. “They won’t attack.”

“What is that?” He asked, starting to follow behind her
again.

She glanced back at him, and then gestured to another
doorway. “Electronic pass. They don’t attack.”

“That’s handy.” He mutters. Maybe if they had that in Lucis
as well…they could use the Nif’s tech against them.

Almost as if she could hear his thoughts she added, “Also
tracks. It… records our movement. We can’t leave.”

“We?” He frowned. Did she mean him and her, or her and
someone else?

“Scientists.”

She then stopped and pushed him into a room.

“Hey-!”

“Shush!” She stepped in front of the doorway and blocked it
from view. Rounding the corner was one of the Magitek security details. She
dropped her gaze to the ground, but held up her wrist. There was a moment where
it paused, but then it soon continued, not bothering to look inside the room
she was blocking.

They waited a few moments until it was out of sight before
she let him step back into the hall. They then continued at a fast pace.

“Hurry. The timing…” She shrugged as she walked, giving up
on trying to get what she wanted across to him.

He understood though. Kind of. He could only guess, but he’d
hoped she meant that if they timed it right, no further troubles would happen
across them. And it was true. They went down hall after hall, with her in the
lead, and came across nothing else. Soon enough, they were back into the lobby
he’d started in.

She’d then paused in the room, and turned to look back at
him. “May I…?”

She gestured to the baby and he nodded. So, she stepped
closer to him and placed a hand on the child’s head, who burbled at the
contact. Up close, he could see that she was about his age. Maybe a few years
older possibly, but still in her twenties. And there was a definite sadness in
her eyes as she looked at the baby.

Without meaning to, he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

The question, he thanked his lucky stars, didn’t offend her.
Instead, a small smile crossed her face when the baby’s hand wrapped around one
of her fingers.

She said quietly, “Let me at least save this one.”

He looked up at her and watched as she pulled her hand away
from the baby’s grasp, and then took a step back.

“Go. In that file, you have the…names. You have the names of
scientists here and other…Facilities? Who don’t want this.” She said, returning
to the determined mindset from earlier.

“If you don’t want this, come with me.” He said without
thinking. That same longing from earlier crossed her face.

“I can’t. Go out the door and-” she held up her wrist,
“-Magitek will come.”

“We could out run them. You could come to Lucis.” He knew
that what he was saying was a lie. They’d likely be caught. But there was a
slim chance they’d make it. And, like before, it wasn’t sitting right with him
to leave someone who, for all intents and purposes, was being forced to carry
out these inhuman experiments.

She shook her head. “We do not expect to be saved, Lucian.”

He stared at her for a few moments, and opened his mouth to
try and convince her to take the chance. Even though he was already taking one
with the child, he was willing to try and get her out too. But then a voice
startled both out of their conversation.

“Oh dear. A Lucian is making off with one of our star
experiments.”

The voice sent chills up both their spines, and Cor whirled
on heel to face whoever it was. The woman paled, but stood up a little
straighter upon seeing who it was. And in his arms, the baby began to fuss.

“Chancellor.”

“Sunna.” The man strode into the room with a smirk on his
face. “One of our researchers assisting a Lucian. What would Besithia say?”

“Who are you?” Cor, though he knew it was dangerous, drew
his sword and held it in front of him one handed. An attempt to keep them safe.

“It doesn’t matter. Consider me a friend.” He grinned even
wider, and Cor felt very uneasy.

“You’re no friend.” The woman, Sunna he recalled, said.

“Aw,” The Chancellor feigned being hurt by placing a hand
over his heart, “And here I’d brought a gift.”

Cor watched as the man reached into his pocket and pulled
out what looked like a metal key of some sort. Beside him Sunna stiffened.

“The key to your freedom Sunna. Imagine. No more hurting
those children you seem to adore. No more learning from Besithia.” He smiled.

Cor glanced at her, and saw that she was looking at her
wrist. But then she looked up and her eyes narrowed. She was going to refuse,
it was clear on her face. Before she could respond, Cor cut her off, seeing an
opportunity to get her out of there as well.

“What’s the cost?”

The man smiled, and instead of answering, tossed the key
over. Sunna’s face was bewildered as she caught it. “No cost. I merely wish to
aid you in your mission.”

Cor grimaced, “There’s always a catch.”

“Oh…Alright. I wish for you to return my map to where it
was.” The man laughed as Cor visibly paled.

“You…It was you?”

“Oh yes. We knew of your mission months ago. Or rather I
did. And I saw an opportunity.” The man out stretched his arms, gesturing to the
whole facility. “This facility. Easy to get into and out of wouldn’t you say?
And if Sunna had the resources, that thing on her wrist wouldn’t have stopped
her from leaving. She’d have been able to get out of it I’m sure.”

“But alas, no matter how much I told Besithia that the
security was lacking, he has not listened. And so…” He gestured to the three of
them. “Once he hears that not only a scientist escaped, with one of the experiments,
and at a Lucian’s side none the less…He’d have no choice but to better our
security.”

The reason sounded as insincere as they came. But Cor wasn’t
going to question it any further. He recognized a snake when he heard one. So
instead of responding, he turned to Sunna.

“Hurry, take that off.”

She startled out of whatever thoughts she’d been having and
moved to comply. She looked…hopeful almost. And soon enough, the bracelet
clicked open and dropped to the floor. She kicked it for good measure, sending
it sliding to a stop at the man’s feet.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He said, almost playfully,
“Unless you’ve changed your mind. I’m more than willing to take the child
back.”

He held out his arms at the same time Cor tightened his hold
when the baby let out a soft coo. “Not on your life.”

“Oh? Pity, and I thought we were friends. Ah well.” The man
then turned on heel, and began to leave. As he left he called back over his
shoulder, “You’d best hurry on by the way, the other scientist will be waking
soon.”

When he was finally gone, they both stood in stunned
silence. But then they both turned into a flurry of movement. He placed the map
back where he’d found it, note and all, and sheathed his sword. Sunna accessed
a box of jackets, for when the scientists had to go outside and put one on,
alongside a hat and gloves. She then took an extra one out as well and hat as
small as she could find.

She then walked over to Cor and then arranged the hat on the
baby’s head. “For the child, the blanket will not be enough.”

She said in
explanation, and gestured for him to hand him over. He did so without
complaint. Sunna could be trusted, he was sure of that now. She tucked the
bottom of the coat over the baby’s feet before zipping it up and tucking the
rest around him, creating a makeshift snowsuit. Then she picked him back up and
cradled him to herself. In her arms, the child began to drift back to sleep.

“We need to go. That man…” She started, but Cor stepped
forward and to the door.

“Come on then.”

He felt like she had more to say, but it was better to leave
sooner. Considering that he originally was sure he’d failed the mission, and
only just now realized that he was coming back with the project data, one of
the experiments, AND a researcher, he did NOT want to tempt his luck by staying
any longer. What she had to say could wait.

And so, for what she hoped was the last time, Sunna keyed in
the code and opened the door to the outside. They both then stepped outside,
and departed, the tracks left behind them disappearing as the snow quietly fell
around them.

Of Temperance (Prt. 2)

*Summary: A series of connected vignettes on how an OC meet’s the four chocobro’s. Warning, a lot of liberties were taken.

Meeting the Prince was the quietest of all the meetings.

It was their first dancing lesson, and he looked very…enthusiastic about being there. He was sitting on the floor of their studio, leaning with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes were closed, and at first glance he just seemed to be bored and resting with his eyes closed. However, being able to hear the snoring was something of a tip off that the prince was actually deeply sleeping.

Alec sighed heavily and pressed their fingers into their eyes and rubbed them. They’d never had a student fall asleep on them. With a huff the stalked over and crouched down in front of him. They tilted their head and tried to decide what they’d do. Wake him by yelling or shake him? In the end, they decide on neither and simply reached out and plugged his nose.

With his air supply so suddenly cut off, Noctis sputtered awake. At first he glared at the one who dared disturb him. But then it dawned on him where he was, and he connected the dance studio to the person in front of him. Presumably his instructor. His face immediately began to burn when he realized that he had already been caught sleeping in class and they hadn’t even met yet.

They beamed brightly at him, and he had the sudden sinking feeling they didn’t appreciate finding him asleep. “Welcome to the world of the living! Now that you’re back, you ready to get started?”

“Uh…Yeah?” He said hesitantly.

“Good!” They stood up in a fluid motion and pulled him to his feet. “My name’s Alec in case you don’t know. And we have exactly 6 months before you have to be able to dance at the king’s ball.”

He was about to cut in but they did’t pause in their talk. It didn’t help that he was suddenly rendered speechless when they grabbed his hand and placed it on their waist and took his other hand in theirs in the most basic of forms.

“The king’s ball, as you probably know, has been something of a tradition for ages. It’s held annually, but only adults are allowed to go. And this is your first year in attendance correct? Don’t interrupt.” They had placed their other hand on his shoulder, and when they saw him try to respond they frowned and mildly scolded him. “Anyways, it’s not every year we have a prince in attendance. And considering your lacking knowledge of the most basic of courtly dances, your father sent you, and your friends because I’m assuming they’re going to be in attendance with you, to my mother’s academy. Keep your hand here.”

They guided his hand back onto their waist, as he had let go while they were speaking. “My mother taught your father this too. And my grandfather taught the beloved queen before Regis, may she be at rest. So, I guess we’re next in this odd tradition. Now, pay attention and remember where your hands are. This is just a simple box step.”

They used their feet to guide his to their places, one at a time and step by step. Noctis was a bit tongue tied at how they seemed to be rushing things. He suspected they were a tad nervous, but didn’t want to point it out. When they were satisfied that he had the basics, they nodded and pushed him a little faster through the step. For a moment he thought it was rather easy, and there was no way it was going to take six months to learn this. But then he stepped down onto their foot and they winced.
“S-sorry.” He looked up from their feet and they shook their head.

“Happens all the time, don’t worry about it. I lost count of how many times Ignis has stepped on me. And don’t even get me started on PROMPTO.” They snickered and he couldn’t help but chuckle along with them.

They spent the rest of their time together talking about nothing, and just going through to motions. Muscle memory would be key and they wanted him to memorize this. And there was never an awkward moment, though there were a few times where Noctis stumbled or stepped on them again. But they were good at keeping thing moving fluidly. When their time came to an end, they both felt as if they had made another friend.

~

Meeting the fourth of the quartet went smoother than they expected. Smoother, if the definition of smoother was ‘most stressful’.

They had yet to meet the infamous Galdiolus Amicitia, as he had skipped about a month’s worth of lessons. Which wasn’t too big of a surprise. He’d texted the first week to let them know just how useful he thought dance lessons were in the first place, and that he wouldn’t be attending. Now, it was rather petty of them they knew, but they had gone straight to Ignis with his attitude. They felt it unfair, considering the lessons had already been paid for, that he’d walk out of lessons with them without having learned a damned thing.

Ignis told them where he could be found when they stated they were going to drag him to his lessons by his ear. Though he didn’t say anything against it, and even gave them a fair warning the Galdiolus could be difficult. He wouldn’t even go when Ignis had asked him to. Then they saw that look on his face and knew that there was something he hadn’t told them. And they quickly found out what it was upon reaching the training arena for the recruits for the crowns guard. Apparently, like them, he was the child of an instructor. Difference being his family specialized in combat. But still.

They were not expecting a GIANT.

They had barely asked a recruit where Galdiolus was, or rather demanded to know, they heard a gruff voice say, “Behind you.”

The recruit scurried away with a look of terror on their face and Alec frowned at the reaction. Surely he wasn’t that scary. They turned on heel, ready to give him a piece of their mind only to come eye to eye with his chest. They blinked and then craned their neck backwards to look up.

…Sweet mother, what had they done to get him as a student?

Unfortunately, they were so caught off guard that the first thing to pop out of their mouth was, “Whoa.”

Then they shook their head and took a step backwards so they didn’t have to crane their neck so far, and he had the audacity to laugh of at them. They crossed their arms and waited for him to quiet himself before speaking, their cheeks turning color. They knew they were a tad bit on the short side, but standing next to him seriously made them feel like a child again. No wonder Ignis laughed. Even they had a hard time picturing anyone dragging him by anywhere by his ears.

“So you’re looking for me?” He finally said after settling himself, a wide grin on his face.

They nodded, their face still burning. “Gladiolus ‘won’t dance’ Amicitia I take it.”

He frowned but the amusement never left his eyes. “The one and the same I guess. I take it you’re…”

He paused and then frowned for real this time.

Alec’s eye narrowed. “You don’t even remember my name, do you.”

He shrugged and didn’t meet their eyes in embarrassment. “To be fair, it’s been a month since we spoke…”

“Which is why I’m here.” They sighed. “You haven’t been showing up for your classes. At all. And you’re still listed as one of my students. As one of my students, I fully expect you to be in your sessions and-”

“Yeesh, when did ballerinas become bounty hunters?” He drawled, turning his head to hide his smirk. He didn’t want them to know he was messing with them. It was kind of funny seeing someone so small trying to scold him.

Their mouth dropped for a moment before they could collect themself, “Excuse me?”

Their arms dropped from their chest and they seemed a bit stunned by how offended they felt. So they marched over to where he was standing and jabbed him in the chest before launching into a rant.

“Now listen here Tiny!” Gladiolus blinked at the nickname, but was curious enough to let them keep going. “You are currently listed as one of my students, and as such you are expected to show up and learn something! IF you’re not going to attend, then tell whoever it is who paid for the class to get a refund so I can drop you as a student. I can’t have you walking out of my class having learned NOTHING! You are messing with my reputation and I WON’T HAVE IT.”

Alec, at the end of their rant, looking like a small bird with its feathers ruffled, sent a scathing glare at Gladio when he started laughing. Again. While his eyes were closed and he was distracted, they muttered to themself, “Well, Ignis didn’t object to it…”

So without really thinking it through, they reached up and grabbed his ears and pulled him down to their level. “Ignis said you’d be difficult.”

The got Gladio’s attention and he fell silent, shocked that this person had actually GRABBED HIS EARS. When they were satisfied they had his attention they let go and crossed their arms once more.

“Now, I know you don’t think much of dancing, but you will be attending the king’s ball in 5 months. No student of mine is going to walk into something that important without knowing what to do. So either quit or start showing up.” They narrowed their eyes, “Am I clear?”

He blinked and shook his head, shaking the surprise away. “Yeah…”

They then smiled almost too sweetly, and said, “Great! So see you tonight at 6.”

They then pushed past him and walked out, with a triumphant smile on their face. Neither seemed to notice that a small group of the trainees were watching them with amusement. Nor did they notice Ignis when he stepped out from where he had been observing the event. He couldn’t keep the chuckle from leaving him as Gladio saw him and walked over to speak with him.

“Really Iggy?” They both watched Alec disappear around the corner, their grin still in place. “You siced a rabid pigeon on me?

“Well, they’re perfectly civil when you DON’T call them a ballerina.” Ignis shrugged. “…And I honestly didn’t think that they’d actually grab your ears.”

Gladiolus laughed at that, and asked, “So, you wanted to meet up to talk about something?”

Ignis nodded. “Yes. Combat lessons for someone who wants them.”

His head tilted. “I’ve already got Prompto, who else would to learn how to fight? And why me?”

“Well, I don’t rightly know. And I may have mentioned something about knowing someone who might be able to help.” Ignis got that look in his eye again, and Gladiolus frowned.

“Alright…Doesn’t answer my question, but I’m willing to meet with them if they’re serious about learning.”

Ignis huffed with suppressed laughter. “That’s good. Because you’re meeting them at six tonight.”

“I…already have a meeting then as of five minutes ago…”

Ignis raised an eyebrow.

“…You mean…”

“That’s right ‘Tiny’.” Ignis smiled, “And for future reference, their name is Alecto Sollertia.”

Now there was a name he knew. “From the Sollertia family? Like the ones that received the king’s commendation?”

Ignis shook his head, “And you called them a ballerina. No wonder they got so riled up.”

Gladiolus sighed. What a wonderful first impression. Though… “So what’s an artist want with learning combat?”

“You’d have to ask them that question, I didn’t pry.”

It was then the conversation turned from Alec and onto other things. Gladio went to his lesson that night, and talked it over with Alec about them learning a form of combat. Which they decided to merge both lessons into one, spending some of their meeting time on dancing, and some on fighting. Slowly, not that Alec noticed, Gladio shifted the lessons completely from dancing to fighting. Which was fine by him.

Though he never got his answer on why they want to learn how to defend themself.
Not until much later.

~

Of Temperance (prt. 1)

*Summary: A series of connected vignettes on how an OC meet’s the four chocobro’s. Warning, a lot of liberties were taken. 

The first meeting with the four had been forgettable, despite their near decapitation.

They had been sitting in the park, reading a book behind sunglasses, a hat carefully holding their hair in place from the light breeze. Though their attention wasn’t entirely on the book. All around them the sounds of others enjoying the day distracted them. They had a mental tally going; How many people were around them, how many people within a certain distance from them, how large and how small were also factors their brain registered, along with ages were all factors that added lines to their count.

They wished they could turn off their awareness, but it had been a long time since they had been able to. Which, at that moment was a good thing when they heard a sudden shout.

“Duck!”

Their eyes widened and without a moment’s pause they did as they were told, leaning forward over their book. They squished themself as flat against their lap as they could, just in case. They didn’t know why they were ducking after all. At the sound of something whistling over their head and hitting the back rest where they had just been, they winced. The offending object bounced off the back of the bench and to the ground by their feet and they huffed with slight amusement.

A Frisbee. Being as this was a park, it wasn’t a surprise. It was just that most people, when playing in public, were careful not to damage others in the park. A fact the thrower must have known, considering the embarrassed and worried gibbering they could hear approaching them. As they sat up and glanced toward the source, they could clearly see the mortification on the blonde’s face as he approached.

“I am so, so sorry!” He said as he reached them, leaning down to grab the toy before standing back up straight. “We were playing catch and I missed it because my friend threw it too high and- “

“It’s fine.” They said calmly, flashing a smile at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

He nodded but continued waving his hands about, trying to explain himself. He needn’t have bothered, but it was slightly endearing that he tried. Instead of interrupting him again, they decided to looked him over. A bit on the scrawnier side of things, and with hair almost too bright to stare at for a long period of time. Blue eyes, much too bright and a little startling to see. With freckles everywhere. He was very animated they noted, and his face moved along with his emotions. Which, if they were reading him right, he was still panicking. But he seemed comfortable in his panic, which probably meant he did it a lot. The fact he was so easy to read set them at ease. It wasn’t very often they met someone so expressive.

“Prompto! Let’s go,” called someone behind him.

They tilted their head to look behind him slightly to see who it was. Another boy around ‘Prompto’s’ age stood a few yards away, and two more further behind him. Probably waiting for the Frisbee. Another smile graced their face.

“You should get back to them.” They looked up and met Prompto’s gaze as best they could from behind the sunglasses. “It’s not nice to make your friends wait.”

Prompto looked behind to the black haired boy and then back to them. “I…I guess you’re right. Sorry again though!”

As he darted away, they laughed quietly to themself. They then placed their book in their sweater pocket and pulled out their phone to send a text off.

‘Please pick me up at the west end of the park. I’m done here.’ Almost as soon as they pressed send, the car they had called for pulled up. Their encounter with the blond was soon forgotten after that.

“Did you enjoy your time away from home?” Their driver asked as they pulled the door shut.

They nodded, “I did. It was a nice to be outside again.”

The driver began to pull away, “That’s good. Perhaps this venture could become a regular occurrence? I’m sure your mother would be pleased.”

They leaned back in their seat and buckled up, giving themself a moment to think.

“I…I think that could be done…” They replied quietly, a hint of unease leaking into their voice.

The driver only nodded and continued on his path to their home. It was quiet once they were fully in motion, both of them falling into a comfortable silence. He knew not to push them into anything, least they shut down again. He was just glad that they had agreed to go to the park more often. They had been somewhat of a recluse since they had moved back to their mother’s estate. And for good reasons.

“You can take off the sunglasses now that you’re in the car dear. No one else can see you.” He said, glancing in the rearview mirror.

They turned from the window, glancing into the mirror to look at the driver. “Oh…Right.”

They lifted their hands to their face and for a moment paused. Then, as if reaching a decision, they pulled the glasses off to reveal the mottled blotchiness of bruising around their right eye.

~

The second time they met, they made an even larger impression on.

A month had passed and they had fully healed from their injuries. And since they were living with their mother again, they were working for her once more as well. Their mother’s art academy was one of the best in Insomnia, and for good reasons. The first foremost reason being that their family specialized in art, and almost every member of their family was an artist in some way, shape, or form. Their art, like their mother’s, was dancing. And so they worked as a dancing tutor, limited to only a certain people, and only in one on one sessions.

Tomorrow, they’d get to meet their next student. From what they knew of him, he was someone around their age, needed to be taught from the basics up, and that they would be working together for almost half a year. It was nice to have someone so committed, but intimidating as well. Plus, if you really thought about it, learning all the dances they wanted to was nearly impossible in the time they had picked out. But…they thought of themself as a damn good tutor, and would do their best to make sure he learned what he wanted in that time.

It was then they reached their studio. After unlocking the door and turning on the light they surveyed the room, looking for anything that might be out of place. It was only when they were satisfied that the room was empty that they began to settle into the room and stretch. They stood tall and reached their arms up as far as they could go, and then they leaned forward, keeping their legs straight while they pressed their palms flat to the floor. They repeated this motion a few more times before moving into other stretches, and then finishing with a controlled exhale.

They then pressed play on the music, allowing the first few bars to wash over them. Right now, they were trying to visualize what they were going to do for the school’s exhibition. They had an idea, but had never moved through it before. And since it was their free day, they figured they’d give it a physical try out.

The melody washed over them, and they took a few steps forward, and knelt down. To the music, they inhaled exaggeratedly, and then their head dipped down. Then once more, as if the song dictated how they breathed. But it was as if something caught them, holding them in place, and in response they tilted their neck back, and their hands trailed up to caress their throat.

It was only then they launched into a more melodic movement. They fell sideways, onto their back, and from their rolled onto their feet. Their back arched and they let themself fall backwards into a back bridge, before going into a hand stand, and then back onto their feet. They had always believed that stories could be told by dancing. And as they moved they began to get a sense of what story they were telling.

They moved as if the music was made for them, and suddenly set into a gentle movement, going on pint and twirling across the floor with each step before settling into wide sweeping movements. Their body moved as if they were being held in an embrace, and their hands floated up as well, as if reaching for someone above them. The movement reminded them that they had been loved. It was just…not enough.

They had been called greedy for expecting more.

Suddenly the music paused, and they lowered their hands to their sides, their head bowed back to the ground. It was silent, as if being on the edge of a choice. Then the music swelled back to life. They spun around and then began to move with a bit more roughness. Large flowing movements, with power behind them. But they also moved through the air, lighter than they had allowed themself to be during the beginning and middle of the song. As if they were trying to get away. They made their jumps look effortless, a point of pride with them.

They had almost reached the conclusion of the song when there was suddenly a knock at the door.

That snapped them out of the zone they were in, and since they were mid-landing, they ended up going sprawling to the floor. For a few moments they were stunned. And in that time the door swung open, the music stopped playing, and rapid footsteps could be heard approaching. They huffed in embarrassment and rolled back over and onto their back to greet whoever it was.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

They looked up and were a little surprised to see a guy with green eyes peering down at them. They blinked once, still mildly dazed but waved their hand in front of themself. They barely managed to keep their face from turning red. Of course someone had to be around to see them take the worse fall they’d had in a while.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t aware I had an appointment today,” they stated as they sat up.

The guy’s hands gently rested on them, helping guide them back to their feet without being asked.

“Thank you,” they dusted off their backside as they continued, “So, introductions. I’m Alecto. But Alec is fine.”  

How long had he been at the door they wondered, coughing lightly before forcing themselves to look him in the eyes through their embarrassment. “How can I help you?”

He chuckled quietly, and said, “Well, my name is Ignis first off, and I’m afraid I may have disturbed you on a break. I just want to meet who’d be tutoring me before we actually started.”

“Ignis?” They tilted their head. That name did sound familiar… “Oh. Wait, you’re the new student I’m going to be working with tomorrow right?”

“That’d be me. I was told I could find you here by the receptionist. I hope you don’t mind me stopping in?” He asked.

At first they hesitated a little, thinking of the implications of the receptionist giving out her location on her days off to the wrong people. But then, they smiled and offered their hand to him for a handshake. “It’s no trouble at all, It’s always good to meet new students.”

“A pleasure as well. Are you all right? That did look like a nasty fall.” He asked.

They shrugged. “Dancing teaches you one thing that’ll stick with you forever.”

“Oh?”

They grinned, “How to fall gracefully.”  

“And dancing is just a side benefit I assume?” He added with a smirk.

They snorted, “Quick learner.”  

They both laughed quietly, and then Alec continued, “Anyhow, was there anything you wanted to discuss? I usually save this conversation until our first session, but it since you’re here perhaps we could work out scheduling details?”

He nodded, and returned their smile. “If that wouldn’t be a bother of course. I’m here to set up I, and three other’s lessons.”

“Three others? Who may I ask?” They tilted their head and began to walk toward their bag to get their schedule to keep it updated. “I’ll look and see if I have their general schedules planned out.”

“Their names are Prompto, Gladiolus, and Noctis.” He said, and they could have sworn that they could hear a hint of amusement in his voice, but brushed it off. And soon forgot about it when they realized the names he had said.

It clicked in their head then, and they ended up dropping their planner as they turned back to face him. “O-oh Holy Six you’re talking about the prince. And that makes y-you…”

Ignis Scientia. They knew that name sounded familiar. He came from one of the families sworn to the crown.  It came back to them then that their mother had informed them that the prince and his retainers would be taking lessons here for their first formal crown ball. But they’d had no idea that their mother trusted them enough to tutor people of such importance. They quickly gathered their thoughts and scooped their planner off the ground before rejoining him.

“Problem?” He raised his eyebrow at them, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eye.

Cheeky bastard.

“None at all! It’s just…” They stumbled over their words, trying to figure out how to phrase what they wanted to say.

“Yes?” A tone of concern entered Ignis’ voice, “Something the matter.”

They shook their head and averted their gaze from him. “No. It’s just that…I think my mother would be better suited to tutoring you all. She must have made a mistake making you all my students.”

“Judging from what I saw earlier,” Ignis said quietly, “I think you’d do just fine.”

This time they could not keep their face from turning red. That just confirmed he had been at the door for longer than they had originally assumed. Their head whipped around to look at him and they stammered, “Y-you saw that?”

He nodded, not elaborating that he had been watching them from the beginning.  He then cleared his throat, “Now then, their schedules?”

“Oh, right!” They opened their planner and started reciting off days, and things returned to business as usual.

They spoke into the night, picking and choosing when each of the four would take their lessons from them. And if they were a little flattered that Ignis though they were good enough to teach a prince, they kept it to themself.