#Nyx's blood is probably on file and Noct is the crown prince

[charlottedabookworm]

Okay, so. Fair warning, but this is sad. This is part of an AU where Fractured Lightning!Nyx did not escape with Prompto because they moved him before Nyx could escape, and then Nyx spent the next decade and a bit thinking that his son was dead - or worse. There are mentions of dehumanisation, human experimentation, branding, medical procedures, and family being separated from each other.

Anyway, tell me what you think?

He doesn’t want to believe it. His son was dead, had died over a decade ago in some no-name lab in Niflheim. Had died at the hands of the scientists who had made him, killed because Nyx wasn’t strong enough – wasn’t good enough – to protect him. Nyx had lost his son because he wasn’t fast enough, because he tipped his hand too soon, and they had taken him from him mere days before he had made his escape. Nyx had made a mistake and his son – not by birth, no, but by blood and magic and bond – had paid the price. He’d had to live with that fact ever since. (He’d had to live with the knowledge that, while he was safe from the labs, while he had escaped, his son hadn’t. Every single moment since, every moment that he’d been free, had been haunted by that knowledge. Late at night, he couldn’t help but wonder. How long had his son lasted, after Nyx had left? What would they have done to the child who could feel the land and was too young to know better, who had magic but no one to teach him control, who took the best to Nyx’s blood but was far too empathetic for the MT program? Would they have followed through on their plans on retraining him, of making him into the perfect soldier who could use magic? Or would they have just killed him as a failed experiment? Would they have cut him apart to see what made him tick? Would he have suffered all of the horrors of the labs in Nyx’s place? Was his son – his son – laying in some unmarked grave that only contained what the scientists couldn’t use? Or had he been killed in battle, left to rot on some battlefield after Nyx or one of his friends had made that final blow?) His son was dead. But that doesn’t mean that he can take his eyes off of the Prince’s friend. Off of the teenager with blond hair and blue eyes and a bright smile that Nyx remembers so well. He’s spent the entire time that he’d been on guard duty subtly watching him, unable to look away even for a second in case this was a dream. And the kid had been watching him as well, giving him confused looks the entire time even as one hand periodically rose to rub at his chest. He looks so much like the boy that Nyx had first met, and he wants so desperately to go and comfort him. To speak to him and hold him and apologise for leaving him. Instead, he stands blank-faced at attention – his hands clenched into fists behind his back, nails digging into the flesh of his palms even as the brand on his arm seemed to burn. His magic aches. “I’m sorry,” the kid says eventually, walking over to him and sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck with a shy, confused smile on his face. Behind him, the Prince and his other friends watch them both with odd looks. “But, have we met before? It’s just, you seem really familiar?” And Nyx’s heart breaks. Because standing in front of him is a teenage boy with his mother’s eyes – with his eyes, with eyes the same shade of blue that had only ever belonged to Clan Ulric – and this is his son. He can’t deny that, can’t deny the way that his magic is desperately trying to reach for something that doesn’t reach back (and what had they done? What had they done to his son, that his magic no longer sung in the air and danced on his skin? What had they done to the little boy whose magic had twined around Nyx’s as though they were the same?), can’t deny the way that the magic of the land was singing – fainter here than in Galahd, but Nyx can hear it all the same – at their reunion. Standing in front of him is his son, and he doesn’t recognise him. Not really. (Why would he? A voice in the back of Nyx’s mind whispers. He was just a child when you left him in the hands of those monsters. He was so young when you last saw him, why would he try to hold onto the memories of a man who had abandoned him to hell?) It hurts. It hurts, and it breaks something inside of Nyx, to have the boy who had once been his entire world look at him with nothing more than faint recognition. And, no matter how much Nyx tries to tell himself that a four-year-old wouldn’t have been able to remember him anyway, it tears at him. But that’s okay. Nyx smiles at him, even as tears burn at his eyes and his magic rages under his hold, because his son was alive and he was safe and he had friends. He wasn’t in the labs, he wasn’t fighting a war, he wasn’t dead. That’s enough. His son was alive, and he was happy, that was all Nyx had ever wanted – everything that he’d dreamed for him. He might not carry his name, Nyx might not have gotten to raise him himself, but he was alive. That was enough. (it had to be) “We knew each other, a very long time ago,” he says, his voice breaks slightly over the words and tears that he won’t let fall still burn at his eyes. He clenches his fists tighter, using the sharp pain to ground himself. Nyx swallows past the lump in his throat. “You were very young at the time.” Too young, far too young. Blinking, he lets the sudden image of the toddler that he’d known fade back into the teenager in front of him and, fuck, he needs to get out of here, before he does something stupid. “It was very nice to meet you again, little bird.” He grimaces at the slip, bowing his head to the Prince and turning to leave. A tear slips down his face. Nyx doesn’t notice the way that Prompto freezes at the words, the way that he watches him leave with a hand outstretched as though to pull him back. He doesn’t see the look of shock, of dawning realisation, on his face as his magic surges inside of him – breaking barriers placed years ago to protect him from himself. He doesn’t hear the word that the teenager whispers as his friends surround him. “Dad?” (“Breathe, baby bird, just breathe. Please. It’ll be okay in a little bit, love.” “It hurts.” He swallowed, tears burning at his eyes as he looked at his son writhing in pain on the bed in his cell, separated by glass walls. He couldn’t do anyway and inside his magic raged at that, at the stifled cries of pain that the toddler gave – his skin inflamed and a new scar forming on his back. He hated this. Hated that he couldn’t even comfort his son – that he couldn’t hold him in his arms and hug him and tell him that it would be alright. But he couldn’t move up his plans, he wasn’t ready yet. So, he did the only thing that he could. He spoke. “Birds are the freest thing in the world, you’ll love them. They fly across the sky, day and night, calm or storm, and they only come back down when they choose too. You’ll see them one day, little bird, I promise you. Just a little longer, then we’ll be safe, okay…” He continued on, babbling about the outside world to a boy who had never seen beyond the labs except in pictures and stories until his son’s breathing eased and he slipped into sleep. Only then, did Nyx allow himself to cry. He curled up in the corner of his tiny cell and sobbed. He cried for his son, for every child who had been borne to the labs, and he sobbed for himself and the family that he’d lost. He cried and cried and cried, silent even as his body shook horribly, and wrapped his arms around himself in a vague imitation of a hug. One more week. He just had to last one more week. He cried himself to sleep, thinking of that, trying desperately to ignore the kernel of hope that grew inside of him. One more week) (6 days later, Nyx woke, and his son was gone. Transferred to another facility, the scientists mocked him. Nyx was making it too soft, so they had sent it elsewhere to toughen it up. Maybe they’d allow Nyx to see it again, once it’d been fully converted. They knew how much Nyx cared for the experiment, after all. They laughed as they left, and Nyx felt his heart shatter. His son was gone) (24 hours later, everyone in the facility was dead outside of Nyx. He had no idea where his son was. That fact would haunt him for the rest of his life)

[marmolita]

belonging, ch1 (kink week day 1)

Heeeeeeey there!  So I wanted to write a chaptered fic for @ffxv-kink-week​ but then I ran out of time, but then, I wanted to do it anyway, so I started writing a sequel to my other D/s-verse fic heart and soul.  If you haven’t read that one, all you need to know for this is that it’s D/s-verse, Noct is a dom, and Iggy and Gladio are his collared subs.  Once I get a bit farther along I’ll start posting to AO3, but for now, here it is on tumblr!  For the kink week day 1 prompt of authority kinks.

Title: belonging  Pairings: Noctis/Prompto, Noctis/Ignis/Gladio, eventual OT4  Rating: Explicit  Words: ~2300 Warnings: none, at least none in this chapter

Teaser: Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the Kingsglaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.  And again.  And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up.

"It'll be the exhibition match on Thursday afternoon, then the swearing-in ceremony Friday evening, then the banquet right after," Ignis says, thumbing through email on his phone as he pulls on his clothes. "Gladio, I assume you'll have His Highness in top form for the exhibition?"

"'Course I will. He's been training with the Glaives for the last couple weeks, right Noct?" Gladio prods Noctis with the ball of his foot, and Noctis swats him away.

Laying back on the pillows, Noctis says, "As long as I don't have to go against Nyx I'll be fine. That guy could kick Gladio's ass."

"Yes, well. I'm sure he'd let you win for show anyway," Ignis replies as he buttons up his shirt.

"I don't want to win for show -- that wouldn't help with the whole filling-in-for-my-dad in the ceremony. People already think I'm too young, or too weak, or too . . . whatever."

Ignis sits on the bed next to him, setting a hand on Noct's knee through the blanket. "Don't worry about what they think. You're going to do just fine."

"You think so?"

Ignis leans in and kisses him, soft and light. "I know so."

*

The exhibition is in the courtyard, with bleachers erected on both sides. Gladio eyes the crowd briefly, then turns to survey the arena. "Don't forget the Glaives can warp just as well as you can," he murmurs in Noct's ear. "You can't just warp out of the way and think you'll be able to hang out and catch your breath."

"Right," Noctis says, and Gladio can read his nerves in his tone of voice.

"You're fast, and you're flexible. The magic is yours, it's not borrowed. If you want to swap weapons you can probably do it faster than they can. Don't forget to watch your back, and watch your left side -- they probably know you're a little weaker there."

"Got it." Noctis is clenching and unclenching his hands, like he's ready to pull his blade from the ether, but his eyes are still darting around the crowd. Gladio steps in front of him to block his view, forcing Noctis to look up at him.

"You got this," he says. "Even if you lose, you're gonna put up a good fight and show 'em what you can do."

Noctis takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out. "Thanks," he says, and Gladio claps him on the shoulder.

In the middle of the arena, Drautos raises his arm and the crowd falls quiet. "Ladies, Gentlemen . . . new recruits," he says expansively, "thank you all for coming. Today we'll see a demonstration of the power of the Crystal, and the power of the Kingsglaive. His Royal Highness Prince Noctis will battle one of our fiercest warriors." Noctis takes another breath, and Gladio can see his public mask settle into place. He walks out into the arena, smiling and waving.

"Now," Drautos says, "let us see who his opponent shall be."

An assistant brings out a bowl full of scraps of paper and holds it out to Noctis, who reaches in and selects one. Noctis looks at the paper for a moment, his face carefully blank, then announces, "Nyx Ulric." Shit.

The audience bursts into applause and Nyx takes the field, grinning. Drautos backs away to the sidelines, and Noctis summons his Engine Blade in a shower of sparks. Nyx makes the first move, throwing his short blade and warping straight for Noctis. Noctis phases through the attack, then swings hard, nearly connecting before Nyx warps away again.

To a layman, what follows is just a blur of blue sparks and phase shadows, clashing blades and flying kicks. To Gladio, it's Noctis putting in his best effort and having it be just enough to keep him on his feet, barely dodging each of Nyx's attacks. Their weapons clash together a few times, but the fight is mostly a series of fast warps as the two of them flicker from one end of the arena to the other.

Noctis throws his sword up so it rams into a high post, warping to hang from it briefly, then as Nyx starts to follow him, Noctis yanks the sword from the post, lets it dissolve back into the ether, and pulls out a javelin instead. He throws, warps, executes a mid-air backflip, and dives down toward Nyx with the javelin in his hand. For a moment, Gladio's breath catches as he thinks Noctis might just pull this off.

But then, Nyx throws up a crystalline shield, and Noct's attack is blocked entirely. Before his feet hit the ground, Nyx drops the shield and swings, his blade slicing into Noct's arm.

"First blood to Ulric!" Drautos calls. Both men drop their weapons and step back, breathing hard. Gladio's heart is in his throat, waiting to see how Noctis will take his loss. But Noctis ignores the blood running down his arm and turns to Nyx with a smile. Nyx executes a perfect bow, and when he rises, Noctis extends a hand to him, which Nyx clasps firmly.

"Lucis is honored by your skill," Noctis says, loud enough to carry to the crowd. "May all the new recruits grow as strong as you."

"The honor is mine, Your Highness," Nyx replies, appropriately deferential like he never is in training.

Drautos reminds everyone of the ceremony to be held the next day, and the crowd begins to file out as a page brings a potion to heal Noct's arm. By the time Gladio gets to his side, any sign of the injury is gone.

Noctis keeps his polite smile on until they're alone in the locker room, then sinks onto the bench with a groan. "Damn it," he says, slamming his fist into his thigh, "why did it have to be Nyx?"

"Hey, that aerial attack with the javelin was quick thinking," Gladio says, tossing Noctis a towel. "You did good."

"I got my ass handed to me," Noctis grouses.

"But you did it well. Iggy's gonna be proud of you for how you handled that."

"I'm supposed to swear in the new recruits tomorrow but all they're gonna be thinking is, 'Why should we swear our allegiance to this kid?' Ugh. Remind me why Dad can't do this again?"

Gladio sighs. "His Majesty is tied up with the ambassador from Accordo. You know that."

"Ugh," Noctis says again, slamming the door to the shower stall on his way in.

*

Noctis is still fuming when he flops into his bed after dinner. Ignis and Gladio have gone home, since Noctis is too tired and cranky to be good company despite Ignis's best efforts. Spending the night alone isn't unusual -- Gladio only stays over rarely, and Ignis often prefers an earlier bedtime and can't sleep with Noctis still awake. Some day, Noctis will get a place with enough bedrooms for all of them to be comfortable, but in the meantime this works well enough.

He rolls onto his back and flings an arm over his eyes. His mind keeps replaying the fight, searching for everywhere he could have done something differently. Of course now that it's over he can easily see a hundred opportunities he missed, but it's too late now.

His phone chimes and he groans and wrestles it out of the pocket of his jeans.

Hey buddy, the text from Prompto says, saw a clip of your fight w glaive, those moves were awesome!

Noctis's face does something between a smile and a grimace. Nyx kicked my ass, he types back.

[Prompto] u kidding bro he's like the biggest war hero and ur 18 of course he did [Prompto] u looked awesome tho, flipping around and stuff [Prompto] flexible ~.~

He laughs at that, imagining the way Prompto is probably wiggling his eyebrows, and types back, lol u make it sound way sexier than it was.

The return message comes right away: ur always sexy. Noctis can't help the little thrill that runs through him; Prompto has been dropping hints that he's interested for a while now, but he always backtracks before making anything clear, leaving Noctis to wonder whether he ever really meant it at all. Speaking of which . . .

[Prompto] I mean [Prompto] the whole royal authority thing, bet it really works for you w Iggy and Gladio

Noctis types out does it work for you? but then hesitates over the send button and ends up erasing it.

[Noctis] guess so [Noctis] sometimes I just want to be me

He sighs, thinking of the royal duties waiting for him in the morning.

[Noctis] gotta do the swearing in ceremony tomorrow bc dad is busy [Noctis] rather be playing kings knight w you

[Prompto] the night is young, and your phone is already in your hand

Noctis grins and opens the app.

*

The ceremony is held in the throne room, with the recruits lined up in formation and Noctis standing in front of the throne. He holds himself tall, and nobody would know that only minutes before Ignis was adjusting the drape of his cape and fixing his tie and cufflinks while Noctis frantically repeated his speech over and over.

"On behalf of my father, the king, I welcome you all to the Kingsglaive. Today you join the ranks of Lucis's most elite warriors, and begin your service to the people and the Crown." Noctis's voice is strong, and Ignis sees a hint of his father in the tilt of his chin. He hesitates for a barely detectable moment, then says, "Are you ready to pledge your loyalty?"

As one, the recruits fall to their knees and bow their heads, a hush falling over the room as Noctis descends the stairs. He approaches the first recruit and lays his hand on the back of her head. "I give myself in service to the Crown and the Crystal," she says, "and pledge to use the power granted to me to protect the people of Lucis."

"Do you give your life to the Crown?" Noctis asks. Normally, with Regis performing the ceremony, the line would be, do you give your life to me? but Noctis had felt it would be disingenuous, and Ignis finds he rather agrees.

"I do."

His hand slides around the side of her head and cups her chin, lifting her face. "Then rise, and join the ranks of the Kingsglaive." The recruit stands, and Ignis can see the shine in her eyes as she rises. Noctis smiles at her before moving on to the next recruit. The ceremony is repeated for the whole group, Noctis receiving one oath after another, until they're all standing.

As the audience bursts into applause, Noctis ascends the stairs again. When he reaches the throne, he materializes his sword and swings it high above his head, then spins it in a flashy circle and slams the point down into the floor in front of him, in the crack left there by this very same ceremony in the past. "The Crystal welcomes you, as do the people of Lucis," he says strongly, and the newly minted Glaives cross their fists over their chests and bow.

The applause is thunderous, and when it finally starts to die down, Noctis banishes his sword and makes his way down the stairs. Ignis meets him at the bottom as the recruits and the audience begin to file out of the chamber. "Well done, Your Highness," he says.

"You think so? My sword has nothing on Dad's armiger."

"You saw the look in the recruits' eyes. They were proud to be swearing their loyalty to you."

"To my dad," Noctis corrects.

"It may have been him in intent, but it was you in practice. I remember swearing my own oath of loyalty to you, you know."

Noctis laughs. "You mean when we were kids?"

"We may have been children, but I've always taken it seriously."

Looking at him with a small smile playing at his lips, Noctis says, "Me too."

"Well then," Ignis says, "I believe the banquet is ready to begin."

*

Prompto taps his phone, rewinding the clip to the beginning to play again. Bless IBC for always putting news clips online right away, because after watching the live feed of the glaive swearing-in ceremony Prompto immediately wanted to watch it again.

And again.

And again, and okay, maybe he's got one hand in his pants while he's watching it but Noct looks so good all dressed up. Even the ridiculous cape lends him an air of authority.

Are you ready to pledge your loyalty? Noct asks in the video, and Prompto's hand tightens on his cock. There was a time when he hesitated to jerk off to photos and videos of his friend, but these days he's accepted the fact that his feelings aren't going away any time soon and he can still be a good friend to Noct despite wanting to suck down his dick until he chokes.

Do you give your life to the Crown? Noct asks, and Prompto breathes, "I do," as he jerks himself faster. The clip is almost to the end, and he bites his lip as Noct ascends the stairs, then gasps, "fuck, fuck, fuck," when Noct materializes a sword and swings it around his head. He comes as the sword slams into the ground, the camera catching the steely glint in Noct's blue eyes, the hard set of his mouth, the perfect fall of hair over his forehead. He looks like a king, and Prompto would gladly lay down his life for him.

As the clip finishes, he pushes weakly at his pants, shoving them down to keep them out of the mess. He doesn't feel guilty for jerking off to Noct, but sometimes he feels guilty for how much he likes it when Noct acts like the royalty he is, because he's still got the texts on his phone saying sometimes I just want to be me.

[marmolita]

deleted scenes from heart & soul

Hey so there was a bunch of stuff I cut from heart and soul because it wasn’t pushing the plot forward, but I hate throwing away stuff I wrote, so here you go!  Uncertain if this will ever make it back into anything or not.

Noctis/Ignis and Noctis/Gladio and Noctis/Ignis/Gladio, D/s-verse.  Unfinished because this is deleted material, it was supposed to be a callback to the beginning but?  Eh.

*** "It'll be the exhibition match on Thursday afternoon, then the swearing-in ceremony Friday evening, then the banquet right after," Ignis says, thumbing through email on his phone as he pulls on his clothes.  "Gladio, I assume you'll have His Highness in top form for the exhibition?"

"'Course I will.  He's been training with the Glaives for the last couple weeks, right Noct?"  Gladio prods Noctis with the ball of his foot, and Noctis swats him away.

Laying back on the pillows, Noctis says, "As long as I don't have to go against Nyx I'll be fine.  That guy could kick Gladio's ass."

"Yes, well.  I'm sure he'd let you win for show anyway," Ignis says as he buttons up his shirt.

"I don't want to win for show -- that wouldn't help with the whole filling-in-for-my-dad in the ceremony.  People already think I'm too young, or too weak, or too . . . whatever."

Ignis sits on the bed next to him, setting a hand on Noct's knee through the blanket.  "Don't worry about what they think.  You're going to do just fine."

"You think so?"

Ignis leans in and kisses him, soft and light.  "I know so."

*

The exhibition is in the courtyard, with bleachers erected on both sides.  Gladio eyes the crowd briefly, then turns to survey the arena.  "Don't forget the Glaives can warp just as well as you can," he murmurs in Noct's ear.  "You can't just warp out of the way and think you'll be able to hang out and catch your breath."

"Right," Noctis says, and Gladio can read his nerves in his tone of voice.

"You're fast, and you're flexible.  The magic is yours, it's not borrowed.  If you want to swap weapons you can probably do it faster than they can.  Don't forget to watch your back, and watch your left side -- they probably know you're a little weaker there."

"Got it."  Noctis is clenching and unclenching his hands, like he's ready to pull his blade from the ether, but his eyes are still darting around the crowd.  Gladio steps in front of him to block his view, forcing Noctis to look up at him.

"You got this," he says.  "Even if you lose, you're gonna put up a good fight and show 'em what you can do."

Noctis takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out.  "Thanks," he says, and Gladio claps him on the shoulder.

In the middle of the arena, Drautos raises his arm and the crowd falls quiet.  "Ladies, Gentlemen . . . new recruits," he says expansively, "thank you all for coming.  Today we'll see a demonstration of the power of the Crystal, and the power of the Kingsglaive.  His Royal Highness Prince Noctis will battle one of our fiercest warriors."  Noctis takes another breath, and Gladio can see his public mask settle into place.  He walks out into the arena, smiling and waving.

"Now," Drautos says, "let us see who his opponent shall be."

An assistant brings out a bowl full of scraps of paper and holds it out to Noctis, who reaches in and selects one.  Noctis looks at the paper for a moment, his face carefully blank, then announces, "Nyx Ulric."  Shit.

The audience bursts into applause and Nyx takes the field, grinning.  Drautos backs away to the sidelines, and Noctis summons his Engine Blade in a shower of sparks.  Nyx makes the first move, throwing his short blade and warping straight for Noctis.  Noctis phases through the attack, then swings hard, nearly connecting before Nyx warps away again.

To a layman, what follows is just a blur of blue sparks and phase shadows, clashing blades and flying kicks.  To Gladio, it's Noctis putting in his best effort and having it be just enough to keep him on his feet, barely dodging each of Nyx's attacks.  Their weapons clash together a few times, but the fight is mostly a series of fast warps as the two of them flicker from one end of the arena to the other.

Noctis throws his sword up so it rams into a high post, warping to hang from it briefly, then as Nyx starts to follow him, Noctis yanks the sword from the post, lets it dissolve back into the ether, and pulls out a javelin instead.  He throws, warps, executes a mid-air backflip, and dives down toward Nyx with the javelin in his hand.  For a moment, Gladio's breath catches as he thinks Noctis might just pull this off.

But then, Nyx throws up a crystalline shield, and Noct's attack is blocked entirely.  Before his feet hit the ground, Nyx drops the shield and swings, his blade slicing into Noct's arm.

"First blood to Ulric!" Drautos calls.  Both men drop their weapons and step back, breathing hard.  Gladio's heart is in his throat, waiting to see how Noctis will take his loss.  But Noctis ignores the blood running down his arm and turns to Nyx with a grin.  Nyx executes a perfect bow, and when he rises, Noctis extends a hand to him, which Nyx clasps firmly.

"Your skill is an honor to Lucis," Noctis says, loud enough to carry to the crowd.  "May all the new recruits grow as strong as you."

"You honor me, Your Highness," Nyx replies, appropriately deferential like he never is in training.

Drautos reminds everyone of the ceremony to be held the next day, and the crowd begins to file out as a page brings a potion to heal Noct's arm.  By the time Gladio gets to his side, any sign of the injury is gone.

Noctis keeps his polite smile on until they're alone in the locker room, then sinks onto the bench with a groan.  "Damn it," he says, slamming his fist into his thigh, "why did it have to be Nyx?"

"Hey, that aerial attack with the javelin was quick thinking," Gladio says, tossing Noctis a towel.  "You did good."

"I got my ass handed to me," Noctis grouses.

"But you did it well.  Iggy's gonna be proud of you for how you handled that."

"I'm supposed to swear in the new recruits tomorrow but all they're gonna be thinking is, 'Why should we swear our allegiance to this kid?'  Ugh.  Remind me why Dad can't do this again?"

Gladio sighs.  "His Majesty is tied up with the ambassador from Accordo.  You know that."

"Ugh," Noctis says again, slamming the door to the shower stall on his way in.

*

The ceremony is held in the throne room, with the recruits lined up in formation and Noctis standing in front of the throne.  He holds himself tall, and nobody would know that only minutes before Ignis had been adjusting the drape of his cape and fixing his tie and cufflinks while Noctis frantically repeated his speech over and over.

"On behalf of my father, the king, I welcome you all to the Kingsglaive.  Today you join the ranks of Lucis's most elite warriors, and begin your service to the people and the Crown."  Noctis's voice is strong, and Ignis sees a hint of his father in the tilt of his chin.  He hesitates for a barely detectable moment, then says, "Are you ready to pledge your loyalty?"

As one, the recruits fall to their knees and bow their heads, a hush falling over the room as Noctis descends the stairs.  He approaches the first recruit and lays his hand on the back of her head.  "I give myself in service to the Crown and the Crystal," she says, "and pledge to use the power granted to me to protect the people of Lucis."

"Do you give your life to the Crown?" Noctis asks.  Normally, with Regis performing the ceremony, the line would be, do you give your life to me? but Noctis had felt it would be disingenuous, and Ignis finds he rather agrees.

"I do."

His hand slides around the side of her head and cups her chin, lifting her face.  "Then rise, and join the ranks of the Kingsglaive."  The recruit stands, and Ignis can see the shine in her eyes as she rises.  Noctis smiles at her before moving on to the next recruit.  The ceremony is repeated for the whole group, Noctis taking one oath after another, until the group of them are all standing.

As the audience bursts into applause, Noctis ascends the stairs again.  When he reaches the throne, he materializes his sword and swings it high above his head, then spins it in a flashy circle and slams the point down into the floor in front of him, in the crack left there by this very same ceremony in the past.  "The Crystal welcomes you, as do the people of Lucis," he says strongly, and the newly minted Glaives cross their fists over their chests and bow.

The applause is thunderous, and when it finally starts to die down, Noctis banishes his sword and makes his way down the stairs.  Ignis meets him at the bottom as the recruits and the audience begin to file out of the chamber.  "Well done, Your Highness," he says.

"You think so?  My sword has nothing on Dad's Armiger."

"You saw the look in the recruits' eyes.  They were proud to be swearing their loyalty to you."

"To my dad," Noctis corrects.

"It may have been him in intent, but it was you in practice.  I remember swearing my own oath of loyalty to you, you know."

Noctis laughs.  "You mean when we were kids?"

"We may have been children, but I've always taken it seriously."

Looking at him with a small smile playing at his lips, Noctis says, "Me too."

"Well then," Ignis says, "I believe the banquet is ready to begin."

*

"Ceremony went well," Gladio comments, as he follows at Noct's heels through the ballroom.

"Guess so."  A server proffers a tray of champagne, and Noctis takes two flutes, handing one to Gladio.  "The recruits were probably disappointed Dad wasn't there.  Did you hear how his talks with the ambassador were going?"

"Heard they might be wrapping up early and joining the banquet, anyway."  Gladio leans in a little closer.  "That cape looks good on you."

Noct's eyes narrow and flash, and his lips curl up in a smirk.  "I was gonna take it off, but maybe I'll keep it on after all."

Noctis is seated with Ignis, Drautos, and Cor, the other seats at their table left empty for the king and his entourage.  Gladio takes up his place standing against the wall behind Noctis.  He probably shouldn't be drinking champagne on guard duty, but in a room full of Glaives it's hardly like Noctis will be unprotected.  Noctis is at ease with Drautos and Cor, as the older men give him advice on how he might best Ulric the next time they're paired against each other.

They're most of the way through the first course when King Regis arrives with the Accordan ambassador and Gladio's own father in tow.  As one the room rises, bowing.  Regis strides forward to Noct's table, and Noctis straightens from his own bow as his father places a hand on his shoulder.  "I must apologize for being unable to attend your swearing-in ceremony," Regis says smoothly, addressing the room at large.  "But know that I welcome you into the Kingsglaive with open arms.  Please, don't let me interrupt the feast."  A wave of his hand is all it takes for the servers to move back into action, bringing out more food and wine as Regis sits down next to Noctis.

"Hey, Dad," Noctis says in greeting.  Regis introduces the ambassador to Noctis, and Gladio begins to tune out the conversation.  It's not until the third course that he notices the Accordan ambassador staring at him.

"Who is that fine gentleman guarding us so stolidly?" the ambassador asks, his eyes wandering over Gladio's body.  Gladio tries not to visibly sigh.  The ambassador, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a frail body, is very much not his type.

"That's my son, Gladiolus," Clarus says.  "He's Shield to Prince Noctis as I am to His Majesty."

"Is that so?  I had thought--  Well, nevermind."

"Thought what?" Noctis asks, a little warily.

"It's just that in Accordo, it's traditional for submissives to kneel behind their dominants, but if they stand instead, it implies that they are . . . available for liaisons.  I thought perhaps he was associated with one of you who might be interested in sharing him."  Gladio frowns, more at the look on Noct's face than on the ambassador's words.  "Of course I would never presume to make assumptions about your son, Lord Clarus.  The traditions of Lucis are very different from those of Accordo."

"No offense is taken, I'm sure," Regis says lightly.  Clarus inclines his head in agreement.

Gladio think that's the end of the conversation, but the ambassador keeps glancing at him throughout the rest of the meal.  When Regis and Clarus take their leave to make the rounds of the room and greet the new recruits and their families, bringing Drautos and Cor along with them, the ambassador eyes Noctis consideringly.

"So, the young man behind you is your Shield, is that right, Highness?" he asks.

"That's right," Noctis says.  Gladio watches Ignis frown; Noct's tone of voice wasn't quite as polite as it should have been, probably.

"And is he also your submissive?"

"A Shield is collared to his king, or his prince, in this case.  It represents the loyalty and dedication that his service requires," Ignis says mildly.

"I see," says the ambassador, "a symbolic collaring."  His eyes are on Gladio again, and Gladio makes himself ignore it.

"Gladio is mine," Noctis says firmly, "in all ways."  While on the one hand it's frustrating that Noctis should feel like he has to claim him, rather than letting Gladio take care of it himself, on the other hand it sends a little thrill through Gladio's nerves to hear those words from Noctis.  As he's still on duty, he holds himself back from making any comment on the matter.

"Ah," the ambassador says, smiling at Noctis.  "I understand.  Perhaps a matter you did not wish to bring up when your fathers were present."  Noctis flushes, averting his gaze, and the ambassador smiles.  "Not to worry, Your Highness, I meant no offense, truly.  A cultural misunderstanding; I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," Ignis says, and Noctis nods.  With that, the ambassador excuses himself, leaving Noctis and Ignis at the table, and Gladio behind them.  "Noct," Ignis chides him, "there's no need to be rude to the ambassador."

"You saw how he was looking at Gladio!" Noctis hisses back.

"I saw it too," Gladio says, finally.  "I could have handled it myself, you know."

Noctis glances up at him, then looks back to his wine glass.  "I don't like it when people think you're just-- when they look at you like you're--"

"A piece of meat?" Gladio asks.

"Available," Noctis finishes.  "Or-- or whatever."

Gladio laughs at the embarrassed look on Noct's face.  Ignis hides a smile behind his hand, then says, "I think we've had enough of this party, don't you?  I hear there's going to be a particularly clear night tonight.  I thought perhaps we might relive the glory days of our youth and sneak out to stargaze."