#allowed to sit on concrete in the sunshine without being lazy for it

[goldkirk]

I AM LITERALLY LIVING THE LIFE I STARTED IMAGINING WHEN I FIRST LISTENED TO MATT AND KIM. WOW

[gwiiyeoweo]

Aulea sees the legendary terror for herself, but finds he's not so terrible after all.

Pairing:  Ardyn & Regis, Ardyn & Noctis, Regis/Aulea, Aulea & Ardyn   Rating: G  

Aulea waked first.

It helped that she actually got a decent night of sleep, compared to Regis who rushed in before even the early rays of dawn could peak out. She quietly wrapped her robe around her, tying it in a lazy ribbon as she did her best to keep silent and sneak about the room afforded to her.

She had only started living in the Citadel last year, despite having been betrothed to Regis for the past two, and her room was bare for the most part. Besides the essentials, she kept a few succulents across her desk and a fern in the corner. Her attendants had fussed about livening up her room, even if it was only a temporary thing until she would be officially married to Regis, and the plants were proof of a hard-fought compromise she had drawn with them.

Regis shifted his arm across the empty expanse of the bed, fingers twitching for her missing warmth. But when he turned his head to farther bury his face into the pillow, Aulea decided he could use the extra hour of sleep and went off to toe on her slippers.

The maids would certainly be miffed if they caught her walking down the halls, dressed in nothing but her modest nightgown and her robe, with her hair strewn about everywhere. Aulea understood the need for appearances given certain circumstances, even if it meant with agreeing with the old stuffy council members, but a woman was allowed to walk in her own home in her pyjamas if she damn well wanted to. She might not yet be the official Consort, but everyone already revered her as such. All they needed was a paper with some fancy gold seal and it would be wham, bam, thank you before she could walk through all sixty-something floors in her underwear. Not that she would; she wasn’t as prim and proper as some of Regis’ matchmakers would like her to be, but she nonetheless kept a certain modesty and a standard of propriety she held herself up to.

At least no one caught sight of her, and she slipped between the lights and shadows easily enough as she made her way to Regis’ room.

Aulea entered without so much a knock, cracking the door open and poking her head in. She immediately zero’d in on Clarus, the man vigilantly sitting by the bedside and tapping away on his phone. “You look like hell.”

Clarus, with his grim dark circles, stilled his hand and lifted his head to glance at Aulea. “Been through worse,” he yawned, turning his face into the crook of his elbow.

Aulea rubbed her hands together, summoning some easy magic and igniting a soothing heat across her palms. Flexing her fingers, she ambled her way around the room and stood behind Clarus, lightly poking her fingertips around his neck and spine. “So,” she said, putting both hands on his shoulders and digging her fingers into his worn muscles. “This is Adagium.” Then a wrinkle of her nose. “Unfortunate name, by the way.”

Clarus sighed into her touch, leaning his back against the chair as he felt the heat radiate from her skilled hands. He twitched when she honed in on a knot hidden away between muscle and bone but kept his squirming to a minimum as she worked her literal magic. “That's what the books call him,” he answered, biting back a groan.

Aulea hummed in acknowledgment, but kept silent for the most part as she continued to work her way around the kinks and scars. She rubbed circles with her thumbs, using some elbow grease and pressing them deep into his flesh, just as her mother once taught her. “Go rest. I can watch,” she eventually said.

“Don't think Regis will appreciate me putting you on duty.”

“If he finds an issue, he can take it up with me.” She gave him a light shove on his arm. “Now go on, up and at ‘em.”

Whatever Clarus grumbled she didn't quite catch but it certainly had something to do with protocol and handbooks. He was more concerned with playing by the rules than leaving Aulea with a potential not-quite-a-daemon hazard sleeping in the bed, but they both knew she was a force in her own right. Worst case scenario, the room and the entire wing would be left in rubbles. It may have been a couple years, but Aulea had a few notches in her belt of besting Clarus and putting his rump to the dump — Cor moreso, back in his reckless days of fiery youth. (With Regis, though, there was no concrete record, considering their spars ended up in accidental makeout sessions or cuddle times, when either of them collided into each other with uncanny timing. “Get a room!” and exasperated groans notwithstanding.)

Clarus had no doubt Aulea could fend for herself should something go awry, but he was personally tasked by King Regis to keep an eye over Adagium. As Shield, he desired to carry on his duty; as friend, he only wished to help. Yet it didn’t help that Aulea was prodding incessantly at him, and knowing her stubbornness could only be matched by Regis’, well… He was but a man.

He knew this. Aulea knew this.

She wasn’t a tactician. She would never compare to the bright strategists circling their war talks, but Aulea could be as shrewd as the conmen who made their home in the dark shadows and Insomnian nights. She knew when sweet rewards held more power than bitter words and sharp whips. And she knew how tired Clarus must have been, considering how Regis had tumbled into her bed like a dead rock without so much a goodnight kiss.

Clarus had been given a losing battle from the get go, so the least he could do was bow out gracefully. So when he had finally relented, Aulea showed mercy and didn't even comment on the stumble in his step as he made for the door, to leave her alone by the stranger’s bedside.

Aulea walked along the walls and made sure each heavy curtain was drawn closed, to keep out the morning’s early rays. Whenever the man decided to wake, she was sure he’d appreciate not having the bright sunshine burning through his eyelids. It didn’t help that Regis’ windows happened to face east and took the full brunt of the sunrise, a lesson she learned herself on a morning she had decided to sneak in the night before.

She swiped a charging cable and one of the tablets hidden away in Regis’ drawers, taking them with her as she made her way back to the bedside. She plugged the charger in, settled herself into Clarus’ seat, and powered the tablet on. Tapping and swiping away at the screen, she typed in the four-numbered passcode and pulled up ChocoTube, a daughter platform for all things furry, fluffy, or cute.

Today’s featured playlist was cats.

“Good morning.”

Aulea didn’t even look up from the screen when she greeted the waking man.

She had her eyes glued on a litter of coeurl kittens, a mewling batch of little white furballs recently born in a conservation. According to the description, these particular species were close to extinction, having only a couple hundred left roaming in the wilds. Only when the video ended, with the camera fading to black and some white text with a link to the conservation’s website, did Aulea look up. She turned the tablet over, screen facing the man.

“Want to watch some cat videos?”

Adagium only stared, brows slightly knit together and lips trying to figure out how to make words.

In turn, Aulea silently studied him, watching for any sign or expression in that split moment it took for him to register her words. At a glance, he looked blank and clueless, like the trending video of that newborn chocobo staring at a single corn kernel and having no idea what it was. His dumbfounded look, she thought, would almost be as cute if it didn’t belong to a scraggly-bearded adult man. But she kept her focus on his eyes, the ways they flashed with emotion, and his mouth and jaw, where his lips parted or his teeth clenched. His eyes cycled through confusion and fear, caution and suspicion — and for a fraction of time, anger and contempt. She kept her magic at the edge, just in case .

But he made no motion, no twitch of his fingers, and the fleeting spite that glanced his face fell into confusion once more. Now, he only looked tired. Haggard. Like all he wanted was to go back to sleep and hibernate for the season, despite having two thousands years to do just that. If anything, it probably made his dark circles worse, now that Aulea actually made the effort to really look at him. His eyes were horribly sunken and dark, skin dry and lips chapped; none of them got him cleaned up after dragging him out of Angelgard, so he still had a fine layer of dirt and dust on him. If he felt as much as he looked, he was probably in want of a nice warm bubble bath.

Did Regis still have that jar of lavender bath salts under his sink?

“I… What?” Adagium rasped. Something didn’t agree with him, and he turned his face down to cough into his fist.

Aulea used her best disarming smile she saved especially for the old farts of the council, for the times when was simply not in the mood to argue semantics with them, to appear as an innocent docile woman who knew nothing of ancient rules and Lucian laws.

“Cat videos,” she said, keeping her voice light and sweet. Rising from her seat, she slowly moved to sit on the bed, being particularly careful with her movements as she kept the screen facing Adagium. She tapped on the next video in the playlist, starting up a two-minute clip of a chocobo chick trying to nudge itself under the belly of a large and ridiculously fat cat. “See?”

“…Oh.”

It had been the fourth video when Adagium spoke up, talking to himself more than to her. “This is not what I envisioned the Afterlife to be.”

Aulea, with a soft mirth to her quiet laugh, had pointed out this was far from the Afterlife, that they were both still within the living world. From there, the conversation had flowed easily enough, with brief pauses as Adagium occasionally coughed for that extra breath.

If she had not heard the prologue from Regis himself, she would have thrown Adagium’s story right out the window and deem him as some lunatic wanting to take advantage of her good will.

Because first of all, Adagium was not his name — it was Ardyn Lucis Caelum, older brother to Somnus Lucis Caelum. That wasn’t even the worst of it.

Aulea had left the tablet in Ardyn’s hands, letting him learn to fumble with the thing by himself, while she went to the small adjoining kitchenette to pour herself a glass of cold, very cold water.

She hovered over the sink, one hand clenching at the granite edge and the other dragging itself down her face. She wondered what exactly they got themselves into, why it had to happen during Regis’ reign of all times, and if maybe this was all some intricate lie crafted by a very cunning daemon. (That could shapeshift into human form? Ha! As if.) But as she pulled her hands away to fill a second glass, she thought, for the good of everyone and everything else but her and Regis’ sanity, that things would probably go worse if they had not been the ones to find Ardyn.

As much as they liked to joke about Regis’ soft heart, his gentleness had been one of his darling qualities she fell in love with, while also being responsible for the loyalty of Clarus and Cor. Mors, his father and late King, may have been more strict and utilitarian during his reign, but already Lucis was ready to turn themselves into the tender hands of Regis. The council had thought it a weakness to exploit, only to learn what a fierce lion paced just beneath, its fangs sharp and claws just as deadly.

So perhaps, she and Regis were just the people needed to tend to Ardyn’s scars and trauma, to help heal what should have been cared for so long ago, to keep his open wounds from festering and falling to infection. To keep the Scourge that literally embodied itself into his skin and bones and his very cells.

Aulea could feel the oncoming migraine from just thinking about that. Slaying daemons, products of the Starscourge that addled their lands, and sealing them were one thing; but purging it from a seemingly immortal man who, from what both she and Ardyn understood — even the man himself wasn’t sure of the specific details and implications of it all — was something beyond the Caelum magic. This was Oracle territory. And not even Sylva Nox Fleuret had experience in something so severe.

“Oh dear.”

Aulea turned around to see Ardyn holding the tablet, broken cleanly in half and sparking at its exposed wires, screen shards glittering on the silk bedding. He looked tragically concerned, torn between dropping the entire thing or trying to piece the broken parts together.

“I… Killed it?”

Not to mention Ardyn needed to play a game of major league catch-up. He had at least a couple thousand years’ worth to learn, and a whole curriculum on how phones and tablets work apparently.

Aulea allowed herself one large breath, puffing her chest out as she filled her lungs to the brim, and slowly exhaled through her lips. She lightly smacked her hands on her cheeks, prepping herself up for whatever ordeal that was to come. Alright, put it this way: maybe the gods decided to give her a pre-test. Because if she could help an ancient-Caelum-turned-Scourge-grandpa learn how the modern age worked — and work through all the emotional and mental damage of a two thousand year (wrongful) imprisonment — then helping Regis run the kingdom should be a breeze. Or something.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aulea picked up the two glasses, made her way over to Ardyn’s side, and offered one of the drinks. “I’m sure you’re parched.”

Ardyn didn’t have to say a word. He downed the entire glass in the same time span it took for Aulea to take one sip. Which made her feel rather foolish. For here she was, showing him cat videos when she should’ve addressed the basic needs first: food, warmth, rest, hygiene.

Rest was out of the way, sort of. Water? Check. She could whip up something easy while he showered, so that would check off food and hygiene. After refilling his glass, she went into the bathroom and made a beeline for the cabinets, rummaging through the extra shampoos and soaps as she searched for a certain bottle.

‘Oh.’ She grabbed the little chocobo toy hidden beneath a spare hand towel, giving the rubber toy a squeeze. It squeaked, high pitched and sharp, and she gave it another quick squish. Huh, she didn't know this was still here. Did Regis?

“What was that?” she heard Ardyn say, curiosity quite piqued. Aulea smiled to herself, pocketing the toy in her robes as she pulled out a bottle of “Sal's Hubba Bubba Bubbles.” She placed it at the edge of the porcelain tub as she made her way back to the door. Aulea leaned her head outside the doorway, meeting Ardyn’s inquiring gaze with her own bright one, and pulled out the rubber chocobo. She gave it a squeeze, and Ardyn realized what the noise had come from, judging from the small ‘o’ of his lips.

“Ardyn,” she said, wiggling the toy around in her hand, “would you like to try a bubble bath?”

Regis walked into his bedroom, somewhat dark with all the curtains still drawn — odd, he thought — and if he did not believe in the love they shared and knew of Aulea’s eccentric quips, he would have doubted all their years together upon seeing her towel dry a half-naked man’s hair, the same man curled up in Regis’ favorite armchair and devouring a plate of scrambled eggs.

There was a rubber chocobo toy resting on one of the arms.

His lips curled into a wry smile, audibly clearing his throat and earning both their gazes. Aulea looked only pleased as punch, though there was something tired around her eyes. Adagium, appearing far better and refreshed than when Regis had first laid eyes on him, still looked worn as the very walls that contained him, old and cracked in the most horrible of places, cold and hard deep within a shell. The bits of yellow egg around his mouth, though, somehow softened the image of a deadly beast that had once been chained within a stone tomb.

“Good morning, Reggie.” Aulea fitted the damp towel around Adagium’s shoulders and walked up to Regis, wrapping her arms around his neck and greeting him with a quick peck along his jaw. “Say hello to Ardyn.”

Regis followed his gaze from Aulea's outstretched hand, a gesture pointed at Adagium, whose fork hovered midair on the way to his mouth. “Hello,” he said, before turning back to whisper close to Aulea. “Ardyn?” He raised his eyebrows, searching for the answer in her face. “His name is —”

“Ardyn. Not Adagium.” Aulea tugged on his arm and led him to a chair across the small table, a short thing made of glass and elder wood that had certainly seen better days. “And you'll want to sit down for what you're about to hear.”

Regis was keenly aware of what should have been a working tablet instead of the broken pile of metal and scraps on his desk, but decided it was best to save that topic for later. Not to mention, Aulea held a glass of water obscuring his line of sight and intentionally blocking his view. He took the drink and sipped at it.

“Ardyn, this is Regis,” Aulea introduced, handing a simple plate of scrambled eggs to him.

Regis pushed the eggs around, not because he feared her cooking, but because he wasn't sure if eating was the best course of action, given her warning from earlier. And if Aulea didn't press him to eat, then, perhaps it was best to wait.

“My hero,” Ardyn drawled, after swallowing his food. “And very distant… Cousin?”

“Nephew,” Aulea chimed in, all right as rain and nodding sagely.

“Nephew then.”

“Pardon?” Regis looked from Ardyn to Aulea, then once more to Ardyn.

“Something like that.” Aulea crossed her arms. Ardyn was too busy eating to give any commentary, but he at least nodded along to her words.

And while the two seemed to be on understanding and oddly friendly terms already, Regis was out of the loop completely.

“Pardon?” he tried once again.

“Well —”

“You see —”

Both Ardyn and Aulea started to speak, but they paused to look at each other, each of their mouths opening and closing with no words shared as they tried to figure who should go first. Eventually, Aulea gestured for Ardyn to say his part, and she filled in the gaps between.

Still, Regis wasn’t sure if hearing it from Aulea lessened the wave of nausea that crept up the back of his throat and behind his eyes, and he wondered if he wasn’t back on the royal vessel, the waves softly rocking the ship; for even as he sat, his entire world was sent swaying, and the soft carpet beneath his feet felt unsteady as sand.

“Oh, he’s taking it better than I thought he would.” Aulea patted him on the shoulder, and Regis considered it as more out of sympathy than anything.

“Aulea,” Regis said, summoning forth all the seriousness he could muster, “it is still morning, and we both know I’m not a man of the drink, but if you would please.”

“Already have.” From seemingly out of nowhere, Aulea pressed a thick short glass into his hand, filled up to three fingers full of liquid dark amber.

“I love you.”

“You better.”