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.