A lot of self-therapy today… sloppy rushed picture of Gladio and Calliope… one part of my brain is telling me that it’s fine to post this… the other is yelling at me that I shouldn’t…
It’s okay to have self-indulging OC x canon ships, right? T_T I’m not hurting anyone with this… stupid anxiety…
Aranea had a younger brother named Aron, who passed away when he was only 14.
She has a habit of mother henning younger people if they remind her of him. (IE: Prompto because of his personality, Loqi because of his age and eyes.)
Her, Biggs, and Wedge are in the same age group, and grew up together. They are some of the very few people who had met Aron before he passed away.
Her dragoon training took place when she was 15, and nearly killed her. But she managed to master the armor and high velocity impacts with her lance and got to come home.
She was 22 when first meeting Loqi, and he was 16. He trained under her for a time on how to run operations.
She nicknamed him fluff because he was late for training one morning, and showed up with his hair super fluffy.
One of the very few who is hyper aware that Loqi has depression to some extent. It scares her more than she admits because depression is what took Aron. (She recognizes the signs on his face.)
On some level, both Loqi and Aranea acknowledge that they do see each other as something like siblings. But never acknowledge it out loud. It’s easier to brush each other’s concern off if they don’t acknowledge what they are to each other.
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)
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.
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.
Come say hi, or come chat with others! It’s new, and I’m new at running a server, but I hope you guys come in and enjoy yourselves! It’s an ffxv discord and hopefully I set it up alright. 😀
I beaded a cactuar guys! He’s going to be made into a medallion. 😁
It’s an accident. Noctis and his S/O would be training together, and just by chance, to reach around him, they lay their hand on his side.
It catches him so off guard that he yelps and actually warps away, sword sinking into the side of a pillar far above his S/O, holding his side and glowering like a cat that just got his tail stepped on.
The S/O would be in stitches, and it would take a while for them to stop laughing, and even longer to convince Noctis to come down.
By the time he does, he’s fully settled into suspicion, and only lets the S/O close after multiple promises not to do it again. (And quit laughing!)
Prompto:
He’d be in a sad mood, which isn’t unheard of for the blond behind closed doors. The S/O would be trying to cheer him up, and start dancing their fingers over his ribs as a last resort, not even knowing if it would work.
At first he’d be able to hold off his chuckles, but then it quickly escalates to full blown laughter and him grabbing at their hands to get them to stop.
“Stop making me laugh I’m trying to be sad!” he says desperately through his laughs, which only causes him to laugh even harder at the ridiculousness of that sentence.
They both eventually settle down, and his sad thoughts would be chased away for the moment. In fact, tickling becomes a sign of affection between the two.
Ignis:
A small gasp leaves him in surprise. He wasn’t expecting his S/O to lean over and whisper to him during a meeting. But them being shorter means that the air from their whisper was more directed toward his neck.
Not many people know that he’s EXTREMELY ticklish on his neck.
And to his horror, his S/O’s eyes light up with mischief upon realizing why he’d gasped. From then on through out the day, they’d delight on sneaking up on him and either blowing on his neck, or when alone in particular, gently poking and tracing their fingers on his neck which usually gets a few startled laughs out of him.
Ignis, as it turns out, if very fun to tickle when you’re in a relationship with him. Kissing his neck and blowing raspberries on the sensitive skin there is always a laugh, especially because when he gets tickled, he gets weak and can’t really fight back.
Gladiolus:
Oddly enough, Gladio is ticklish on his back. Also on his feet and under his arms, but his back is the most surprising.
It’d be an accident when his S/O discovers it. It’s been a long day and they seem him walking down a hall in the citadel alone, about to head home. So they rush for a hug and upon puling away, their hands tail over his back with a feather light touch.
A choked laugh leaves him, and his face twists up like he’s about to sneeze from the effort of trying not to laugh.
With a raised eyebrow, they’d dance their fingers over his back, and lightly scrape their nails over it as well, to test their theory.
Full bellied laughs would leave him, and he’d try to get away, but since their arms would still be hugging him, it doesn’t take much to latch on and hold him hostage.
This basically becomes blackmail material, and people are wondering what the S/O means when they say they’ll use their secret weapon against him when he’s being difficult.
Middling. He doesn’t really know how to give one, considering his own aversion to people touching his back, but he’d be willing to try. It would result in a massage that was basically pressing too hard in one place, and not hard enough in another. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.
Prompto:
He’d be a little too gentle, for fear of pressing too hard, but does make a decent effort. Unlike Noctis, his massage is going to be more even than anything, and though you’d still feel some strain on your back muscles, it’s considerably less.
Ignis:
He, surprisingly, doesn’t know how to give one. But having received them before, has a starting reference. And his eye for detail would be able to pick up what feels nice to you, or when he might be hurting you. All in all, you’d be super relaxed by the end of it.
Gladiolus:
He knows how to give a massage. A serious massage. He actually learned how so he could stop his own muscles from cramping, but now since you asked…He’d also probably be the best at it, and he’d be able to rub out tension in your muscles you didn’t even know you had. You’d probably be a puddle on the floor because of how relaxed you were by the end.
He would probably be drunk too honestly. But not drunk enough not to remember.
He’d worry over you and offer you his couch to sleep it off until you’re functional enough to go home.
However, you have a different idea and confess everything to him as he’s settling you down on the couch. It’s a soft and simple confession. “This is why I love you.”
He’d be frozen for a moment, before flushing from head to toe and finishing putting a blanket on you.
He’d pay it no mind, and then next day you wouldn’t bring it up, so he wouldn’t either.
He’d agonize over it for weeks until he finally caves and asks the bros for help figuring out if they meant it.
They come up with extravagant plans and ideas to try and get them to admit their feelings. They’d be so into it, they wouldn’t notice that you had already slipped into the room and were listening to them.
Sure you’d be embarrassed, but you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from throwing out a suggestion or two yourself. Which, the boys wouldn’t even notice. They’d probably think what you’d said was a great idea honestly, and keep the brain storm rolling.
…At least until one of them, probably Ignis, realizes you’re there and fall silent. Which results in the other boys falling silent too. They all end up staring at you for a few moments with eyes that could rival an owl’s.
That’s when they all bolt, leaving Noctis behind, who’d be trying to smother himself in a throw pillow out of embarrassment of the shenanigans they’d come up with.
Just poke him in the side, he’s ticklish so he’ll jump really high and end up pulling his face off the pillow so you guys could talk.
With embarrassment on both parts, yourself admitting that you’d never meant to say it to him, due to the fact you were sure he was in love with someone else, and him due to his own juvenile reaction during the past few weeks, you manage to sort things out.
The next day, he’d happily tell the guys that he didn’t need all those plans after all.
Prompto:
“I love you.”
“Aw! I love you too!”
There’d be no hesitation in him when he says it back. Having been the one to start your mini drinking party, he’d already be pretty drunk himself.
However, he does have a higher tolerance, and realizes immediately what he’s said, and out of sheer need to hide, buries his face in the nearest surface. …Which just happens to be you.
Out of habit, because you guys cuddle a lot as is, you wrap your arms around him. Only this time, you say you love him again.
He pops back up and looks at you in the eye, his bottom lip wobbling. “Do you really mean it?” (He’s a very emotional drunk, unfortunately, or fortunately, for you.)
In response you just kiss his face, stating you want one for each freckle, mumbling about how freckles are fairy kisses, and you want to be the only one who’s kissed him.
Eventually, you end up cuddling with each other, and trading cheek kisses before falling asleep. (It was only fair, he’d say, if you got to kiss his freckles then for each kiss he got to kiss you.)
Upon waking, you have a killer hangover and no memory of what you’d said. But he did.
From then on, around you’d he’d be especially sweet. And almost painfully shy. Nothing but sweet smiles and gentle gestures.
He’d trust what you said, because you’d never been a dishonest person around him. He’d know what you’d said you’d really meant. And though initially, he’d be saddened by the fact you didn’t remember, he’d also take comfort in the fact that you’d meant it.
Eventually, you’d ask him about his behavior and he’d only say that he thought it was cute you were jealous because of his freckles and fairies. It would throw you for a loop, and probably turn your face as red as a cherry because you’d only THOUGHT about that story of freckles being fairy kisses and….wait how’d he know you were jealous because of his freckles in particular?
He’d wanted you to remember on your own, but because you’d asked, he’d tell you. And bits an pieces would float back to you, but it’d never fully return. But you’d both be happy, because you’d know your feelings are returned.
Ignis:
You’d knock on his door and the moment he’d answer, you’d be flinging your arms around him and practically cheering his name.
“Ignis!” He’d probably have to catch you, since you’d be a bit unbalanced. He’d then usher you into his place, troubled that you were so inebriated. His concern would cause him to ask if something was wrong, worried that you were so drunk to avoid a problem or something.
There isn’t, you just wanted to see him.
You’d manage to convince him to let you stay, honestly he’d be too worried for you to let you out of his sight, and you end up dragging him into some shenanigans.
He’s not one for dancing with no music, but with you he finds it endearing.
Honestly, for one so drunk, you have a surprising amount of energy. It takes him an alarming amount of time to convince you to try and sleep it off, and an even longer time to get you to sleep.
The whole while, you keep telling him how kind he is, how lovely, and just before you fall asleep, you state that you’ve always loved him because of it.
He’s glad you’re asleep, so there’s no one to witness one of the very few times he loses his composure and mildly freaking out into his hands because: A) you just told him you love him, and B) you stated always have.
He’s of the mind that drunk words are sober thoughts, so in the morning, he treats you kindly, ensuring your comfort, and trying to lessen your headache as much as possible.
Though you’re mortified that you somehow ended up here, it helped seeing him, and him taking care of you. (Thankfully, it was a weekend, so Ignis wasn’t need by Noctis till monday.)
He spends the day taking care of you, and swears he doesn’t mind. Truthfully, he’d taking the opportunity in your company to mull over his own feelings toward you. But also, he’d be subtly trying to figure out if you remember what you said or not.
It then end, he’d determine that you didn’t remember, but he’d know that he felt the same way. However, he’d prefer to wait until you weren’t reeling from a hang over and for a day when you wouldn’t feel the need to be drunk to tell him such things.
Gladiolus:
Saying that you love Gladio was something that was common, just like when you said you loved, Ignis, Prompto, Noctis, Iris….Basically, you really, really, love your friends.
So while walking home with Gladio from the bar, you say you do love him, and he smiles, figuring it was just the platonic love that you felt again.
…So it’d throw him for a loop when you lean up and kiss him before turning and heading into your apartment for the night.
The next day, he doesn’t beat around the bush and straight out asks if you remember the walk home. To which you’d respond no, and kind of shrug it off, figuring that the reason he asked was because he didn’t remember either.
But then it’s your turn to be thrown for a loop when he leans down and kisses you before walking off.
In the end, you don’t really talk about it after all. There’s no need. Through out the day you both spend the day sneaking up and kissing the other, as if playing kissing tag. It’s very clear by the end of the day that you like each other.
(And half the citadel has almost been sickened by how cute you both are, while the other half has turned to jelly over how cute you two are.)
Imagine Final Fantasy 