![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strongheartmaidAN: written long before Ardyn's brother was revealed to be Somnus. I'm not bothering with the name change. It's staying Izunia. Somnus will still be in the tree - just not where canon has him.
You find yourself staring at him, your eyes wide. “It can’t be,” you whisper in awe, staring at a man you haven’t seen in so many years. You hesitate, unsure of what to do. This is the man you are sworn to guard but your son isn’t here to protect Orfeo, but you have a sworn duty to preform. You shoot Orfeo a look, pleading forgiveness, before you turn and make your way over to your master. You kneel before him, head lowering, gaze focusing on the ground. “Lord Ardyn,” you breath. You can feel his fingers under your jaw and he’s slowly raising your head to stare into his amber eyes.
-
Ardyn had to admit to himself that very few things confused him - given the length of time he had lived. But right now, the level of confusion he was feeling was one he had never reached before - well, maybe once when that one descendant decided to buck tradition and marry her Shield (and then another marrying her Chamberlain). Okay, so he reached that level at least twice.. No, three - there was the one that had five children which hadn’t happened.. No, wait, then there was the small grouping that decided they were marrying Galahdians.. (That was a shocker there). Okay, so he was wrong - he had been at this level of confusion before but that was beside the point. Here was the Shield of the True King, speaking the old tongue, speaking to him in reverence that he had heard only once before. He subtly pointed at the Shield, an eyebrow arched just enough so that the True King surely could understand the unspoken question.
Noctis froze the moment Gladio made his way over to Ardyn, bowing before him and speaking ancient Lucian again. He looked helplessly at Ignis, silently wondering what they were going to do now.
Ignis’s face took on a grim look - whatever was happening to Gladio had just taken a serious turn for the worse. “Prompto, get Noctis to the Regalia. I don’t trust the Chancellor not to take advantage of Gladio’s sudden switch of loyalty.”
Prompto swallowed a harsh lump and nodded. “You got it, Specs,” he said, wrapping an arm around Noctis and guiding him away. “We’ll get him back, Noct,” he said, trying to be hopeful.
“What if.. What if he won’t want to come back?” Noctis asked, his voice small.
~
Days pass in a seeming blur as you once more attend to Ardyn, acting once more as his Shield. Nuada is here - which, you find, is a complete surprise. You didn’t think his mother would ever let him leave that sacred city in the trees (or is it floating islands - no matter, it’s not important in the grand scheme of things). He watches you, a look of something in those odd pale-colored eyes of his. But then, he’s always watched you, ever since he was a small boy and you had a hand in helping to raise him (well, raise him in the sense that you taught him how to use his sword, how to ride a chocobo..) So, you think nothing of it now. You nod a brief greeting to him before returning to your silent watch at Ardyn’s side.
-
Ravus frowned deeply. There was something decidedly wrong with that so-called Shield of the True King, especially if he had apparently abandoned him to serve Ardyn. A faint sneer crossed his lips, not thrilled with this turn of events - it would make things that much harder to protect Luna from this madman, now that he had a Shield to protect him. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, fishing a small phone out of his pocket. He skimmed his contacts, his bi-colored eyes seeking out a particular name on the list. He tapped it once and waited, listening to the phone ring. (Why his sister never bothered to let him get her a phone was beyond him - it would be easier to communicate with the True King and less chance of getting dog slobber over important messages kept within that diary of theirs). “Ignis,” he breathed softly, his voice gentling at the lightly accented hello. “Is everything all right over there?” he asked.
His frown deepened when he heard how badly things were going - that the True King had been badly injured once more because of the man once sworn to protect him was not there to protect him. He took a calming breath. “Is his sister capable?” he asked, letting the question hang in the air. Apparently not - and not from lack of training, no, it was merely her age that kept her from being made Shield - that and there was no left of the royal court that knew the ritual to transfer the title from an unworthy heir to a new one. His eyes glanced at the sword in his possession - the one that belonged to the late king of Lucis. A soft sigh escaped him. Well, he had planned on switching sides at some point - just not this early. “As soon as I can break away, I’ll join you,” he said quietly. “Stay safe, my fire.” He smiled softly at the returning endearment and hung up. He glanced over at the doorway to see Umbra sitting there. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to use whatever magic you use to get that notebook to Noctis to get me to his side?”
Umbra grinned softly and wagged his tail. He made his way over, butting Ravus’s hand with his head and pulled on whatever mysterious powers he had to take both man and sword with him - away from this madness and into safety.
~
“Umbra!” Noctis cried, startled by the sudden appearance of the Chosen Messenger. “Here boy,” he coaxed.
Ignis rose in a fluid motion and made his way over to Ravus, falling into his arms and breaking into tears.
Ravus gently rubbed the Advisor’s back, humming soothing nonsense.
Prompto looked over at Noctis, silently gesturing at the duo, only to get a one-shoulder shrug from the prince in response. Okay, so Noctis hadn’t known about this either. He looked over at the couple, Ignis looked to be calming down finally, and then he looked back over at Noctis, a silent wince escaping him.
Noctis nodded in response. Well, Gladio had his chance and hadn’t acted on it. And if Ravus, ugh, made Iggy happy, well, he supposed he could get used to having the other prince hang around. “So,” he began slowly.
“So,” Ravus returned, letting Ignis free from the hug and moved to sit next to the healing prince. “What happened?”
“Gladio lost whatever sanity he had, apparently,” Ignis said, moving to join the others near Noctis.
“I didn’t know he had any to begin with,” Ravus said with a sigh.
Prompto snorted a moment before he realized what was said and stuck his tongue out at Ravus. “So not cool.”
“I like to think I call it as I see it,” Ravus said dryly. “Now, when did this happen?”
Noctis silently looked at the others and nodded, wincing at the sudden flare of pain. “Shortly after you kicked his ass,” he said, taking a steadying breath and riding out the pain.
Ravus frowned and removed his glove. Luna wasn’t the only one with the ability - although hers was more known. He placed his hand on the small of Noctis’s back and allowed the healing power of the Oracle to slip free, tending to hidden and still healing wounds.
“Dude,” Prompto breathed.
“Better?” Ravus asked, a note of compassion slipping into his voice.
“Much,” Noctis said quietly. “Thanks.”
Ravus nodded, knowing it wasn’t the first time he had used his powers to heal the young prince. “So, after I kicked his ass, which was quite an experience,” he said, a faint sound of a smirk in his voice. “What then?”
“He left the group, hooked up with the Marshal and headed off for the Tempering Grounds,” Prompto said.
Ravus was silent for a long moment, a storm brewing in his bi-colored eyes. “That fucking idiot!” he exploded. “What did he hope to gain there!”
“His defeat at your hands seemed to have completely rattled him,” Ignis offered up.
Ravus clenched his right hand into a fist and tried to stem his temper - no good exploding at Noctis, besides the true source of the need to explode was elsewhere, doing Astrals knows what at this point. He took a steadying breath and counted to ten in his native tongue. “So, he went to the Tempering Grounds without any idea as to what it was?” He had heard about them as a child (regretting that decision since that led to so many nights filled with nightmares) - a cursed area that no-one sane ever ventured, that all that entered save one, now two, hadn’t survived.
Noctis nodded wordlessly. “Pretty much, yeah,” he confirmed.
Ravus took a steadying breath again, once again wishing he could explode in rage - but his target wasn’t there. Wouldn’t be there for a long time. “And he took on the Blademaster,” he said blandly.
“And succeeded,” Prompto supplied.
“I hardly call being possessed by the soul of one’s ancestor succeeding,” Ravus said flatly.
Noctis went quiet. “That explains why he thought I was Orfeo,” he said quietly, “why he spoke fluent ancient Lucian.”
Ravus nodded, a grim look on his features. “And the situation will only get worse. Soon, there may not even be a Gladio.”
“So.. So what do we do?” Prompto stammered, his blue eyes darting between Ignis and Noctis.
Noctis glanced down at his hands and then up at Ravus. “You think Luna could help?”
Ravus shook his head. “Luna deals with the living, you need someone who deals with the dead.”
Prompto shuddered. “So, um… where do we find one of those?” he asked, glancing at Ravus before looking over at Noctis.
A faint smile crossed Noctis’s lips. “Road trip.”
Ravus groaned softly. “Please tell me you’re not the driver,” he opined.
“Nope, that’s Ignis,” Noctis said.
“There is an Aeon listening to my silent pleas,” he said, casting his gaze heavenward.
“Hey,” Noctis protested. He did find it amusing that Ravus would pray to the Aeons rather than the Astrals. But Ravus always followed his own path.
-
You look over at Ardyn, silently arching a brow. He is planning something - you just can’t tell what. You can’t help but wonder if Orfeo is all right, can’t help but wonder what was the cause of the falling out between father and son - one that you never thought would be possible. Perhaps you should look for Izunia later, see if he can shed any light on the situation.
-
Ardyn glanced over to look at the once Shield of the True King, now his Shield. It was odd, seeing the boy but hearing the voice of his old Shield (well, technically he was Izunia’s since that whole mess with the Crystal, he thought with a decieded sulk). “You seem troubled, Gilgamesh,” he noted, in a tone that one reserved for discussing something as mundane as the weather.
Gilgamesh glanced over at Ardyn, tilting his head slightly in question. “This.. falling out you had with Orfeo..” he said slowly.
“He is young,” Ardyn pointed out. (And technically dead for so many years but Gilgamesh seemed unaware of that fact for whatever reason). “And it is typical of a young man his age to rebel against his father. I suppose he wasn’t happy with the woman I chose for him.”
Gilgamesh nodded briefly. That made sense and then his attention latched onto the last bit said. “You promised him you wouldn’t play matchmaker, that you would allow him to marry for love.”
“Things changed,” Ardyn said, giving a one-shoulder shrug.
Gilgamesh frowned but said nothing to that. He glanced down at his hands.
“Something wrong?” Ardyn asked, a note of curosity in it.
“My armor is missing,” Gilgamesh grumped. “I feel naked without it.”
A dark smile crossed Ardyn’s lips. “I suppose I could locate your armor for you..”
There was that odd disconnect when Gladio awoke - the strange feeling in his left arm was back (well, at least he *could* feel that he had a left arm after that odd incident of feeling like he was lacking an arm). A soft groan escaped him and he moved his arm to drape it over his eyes, trying to block out the light. He froze the moment his left arm was over his eyes. What the ever-loving.. That.. That couldn’t be his arm. He lowered the “thing”, not wanting to look, not wanting to acknowledge it as a part of him. He used his right arm (not before subtly glancing to make sure it was still flesh and blood and not.. not that) to push himself up into a proper seated position. There had to be a clue, something anything to explain where he was, what was going on. Because right now, the only answer he was getting wasn’t making any fucking sense.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a familiar voice crooned.
“Ardyn,” Gladio snarled. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
Ardyn slid into view, a smirk on his lips. Well, well, it looked like enough pain would have the Shield for the True King slip back out of hiding from wherever Gilgamesh would place him whilst he was in control. “Oh, nothing much,” he said, his tone deceptively light. “Just giving you back your armor, Gilgamesh.”
Gladio stiffened, his back going ramrod straight. Gilgamesh? The Blademaster? What the hell was he doing, answering to that name? Wait.. Those blanks in his memory… He could feel the pit of nausea welling back up - he had felt it once before when Ignis told him he had struck his prince, no, his king. “So, giving him his armor back by making him an MT,” he drawled, trying to sound calm and was probably failing miserably at it. “Makes a world of sense.” No, no, it didn’t - it didn’t make any fucking sense.
Ardyn just smiled at him. “But,” he drawled after a moment, “isn’t that why you sought out Gilgamesh in the first place? To become stronger?” he asked, cocking his head ever so slightly. “You saw how much strength Ravus had in his magitek arm…”
Gladio cringed internally, knowing that Ardyn had hit a nail on the head - that had been the whole reason he had gone to the Tempering Grounds in the first place.
Ardyn smiled to himself. Well, that seemed to have hit a nerve - now to see what this boy would do. Would he demand more, demand it to go further to get that “strength” or would he fight it, try to escape? Either way, this would prove to be interesting..
Gladio stared into the distance, his thoughts circling around and around. Strength to protect his king but at the price of his humanity? Could he? Should he? He felt sick that he was even considering this but if it meant he could protect Noct better.. Down side was he was losing his tattoo - something he had worked hard to earn (bloodline right not withstanding - his father told him that he just wasn’t going to be gifted the tattoo because he was an Amicitia, that he had to earn the right to wear it).
Ardyn watched the youth, studying him. A part of him was curious - would this youth impress him by tell him off, tell him he didn’t need this augmented (yet wholly corrupted) strength? Or would he disappoint him by giving in - taking the strength he hadn’t rightfully earned. Well, time would tell, he thought, shifting his weight from one leg to the other (ironically the leg he was shifting the weight from was the same leg that troubled the True King). “I have all the time in the world,” he said dryly. “Truly, but how long do you think your friends, oh wait, your former friends due to your betrayal, have?”
Gladio glared at him, his amber eyes shooting daggers at Ardyn. “I didn’t betray them,” he snarled.
“Oh, and what do you call your being here?” he answered, his gaze shifting to look at an interesting point on the ceiling. “At any point, when you were in control, you could have left, returned to your friends, sought their help to get you free from Gilgamesh, yet instead, you remained here. If that isn’t a betrayal, well, then I’m not sure what is.” He lowered his own amber gaze to look at Gladio. “Besides,” he said, his expression the same a cat would have when it cornered its prey. “You’re the one that nearly crippled the True King again.”
Gladio stared at Ardyn, a horrified expression on his features. Ardyn was known to play mind games - at least, that was what was rumored amongst the staff here that he could hear during his rare moments of being in control.. This had to be one of them.. Had to be.. Because if it wasn’t.. He didn’t deserve this tattoo. Hot tears streamed down his face as he waged war with his self-control, his self-doubt.
Ardyn settled back to watch, to wait. Well, no, the youth hadn’t nearly crippled the young king - it had been a daemon, but the youth had been there during the fight so.. well.. a half-truth at best, an out and out lie at worst. Ah, it looks like the youth was coming to a decision - impress him or disappoint him..
“Do it,” Gladio said, his voice thick with some emotion.
And disappoint him it was. Pity, but well, that was the way things were going to go then. “Very well,” Ardyn said, a light tone to his voice. “I’ll see you in a couple hours then and we can show you just what we’ve accomplished.” He turned on his heel and headed out of the room, stopping to talk to the doctor in charge, quietly discussing what was to be done next.
Hours, days, it didn’t matter - time felt like it had lost all meaning here in.. wherever Ardyn was holding him. Gladio stood before the mirror, a pang of vanity welling up in his chest - all that remained of his impressive tattoo was just on his back and his chest, the feathered wings that Ignis once absently traced during a quiet moment were gone. He took a steadying breath before moving his left arm, trying to get a feel for how it worked, how much strength he’d have to restrain in order not to damage anyone. He wondered for a moment if this what Ravus had gone through when he received his own magitek arm. His amber eyes drifted from the mirror to the figure appearing in the door. “Ardyn,” he said flatly.
Ardyn just gave a small nod before he came to stand behind the youth. “And how are you feeling?” he asked, placing a hand on Gladio’s left shoulder.
“Like shit, what do you think,” Gladio returned.
“No pain, no gain, isn’t that you once told your prince?” Ardyn asked, casting his gaze to the ceiling before lowering it to look at the youth again.
Gladio flinched as that was tossed back in his face. He opened his mouth to make some retort when he felt that odd sensation welling up again and..
-
You look down at your arms, cocking your head as you take them in. Well, this is different - not the armor you were used to but it is armor nonetheless. You turn your gaze to Ardyn and nod approvingly. “Not my original armor but this will do,” you tell him.
Ardyn is smiling, but it’s not reaching his eyes. Somehow, that is giving you quite a bad feeling about things. You saw that only once before - but when.. you fail to remember, but you know, it was not good, whatever it was. “Of course, Gilgamesh,” he murmurs. “We can further it to the rest of your limbs if you wish or we can just leave it as your arms only.”
You tilt your head in thought, amber eyes distant. “Do it,” you tell Ardyn. “All the better to protect you.”
There’s an odd light in Ardyn’s eyes when you say that but you think nothing of it - Ardyn was always a strange man, ever since your childhood. “Of course,” he responds. You note there’s an odd tenor to his voice but think nothing of it. You make your way back to the table and lay on it, closing your amber eyes and allowing yourself to drift away. Your duty is protect Ardyn and if this armor can ensure this, then you’ll wear it, proudly.
After what feels like a lifetime passes, you chance a glance down at your new limbs. Cold steel - nothing about them that screams warmth. A part of your vanity wells up but you stamp it down. For the good of Eos, to protect your Healer King from all harm - that is more than worth of the price of having the flesh replaced by this new metallic shell. A dull ache throbs in the back of your head but you dismiss it - no time to dwell on the agonized scream of that.. whatever, whoever that is.. You let out a small huff of air, trying to sit up and move.
“Easy,” Ardyn murmurs at your side. “Let your body adjust to the changes.”
“I don’t have the time,” you huff in protest. “Can’t have you wandering around unprotected, healing the people,” you mutter. Again, you notice the odd light in Ardyn’s eyes when you mention him healing. Had something changed? “Has Izunia forbidden you from preforming your sacred duties?” you ask, wondering if you had to talk sense into Izunia.
“No, no,” Ardyn answers. “Nothing of the sort.” A sort of smile quirks his lips and you find that bothering you for reasons you don’t understand. (Not that you felt like you ever truly were able to understand Ardyn - there was always something about him that unsettled you) “But I decided to take a small breather for a bit.”
You nod, thoughtful. Ardyn had been in poor health after that last healing you remember. Etro, you thought you almost lost him that time - all that black blood that coated him.. You mentally shudder and shove that image back into the depths of Pitross so you don’t have to think on it anymore. Perhaps, with Ardyn taking a small breather from his healing quests, you could have some time to yourself, when was the last true time you had been with your beloved? “Ardyn,” you begin slowly.
“Hmm?” he answers, glancing up from some scrap of paper he had been reading.
“May I use your time off to spend time with Rhonwen? It has been far too long since I’ve spent any time with her, or any time with my children,” you ask, hopeful that he’ll allow it.
“Of course,” Ardyn responds. “But alas, I’m not sure where Rhonwen is,” he confesses. “I believe she may have gone on a mission at Izunia’s request.”
You nod and rise, praying you can stay standing on these new limbs. “Of course,” you murmur. “Well, she always did enjoy a good chase, a good hunt. Perhaps it’s time we get back to our old game.” You pointedly ignore Ardyn’s groan. “You have your habits, I have mine.”
“Fine, fine,” Ardyn sighs. “I’d send you on your way now but.. don’t you think you should put some clothes on first?”
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}