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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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FFXV FIC Simple Gifts

Summary:

Cor gets roped into helping Aulea and Regis hide solstice gifts from each other. However, Cor may end up causing more trouble than he realized by his act.

Cor is 18 in this and King Mors hasn't passed yet.

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Aulea’s high heels were making a frantic clicking noise as she scurried over. Cor knew what was coming, it wasn’t hard to guess. He was about to become ‘the helper’ yet again.

“Would you mind hiding this?” she asked in a rushed whisper.

The box she was holding wasn’t exactly small but none of the other ones she’d pawned off on him to hide had been tiny either. “Sure thing, if it’ll make it easier for you,” he grumbled kindly.

“Oh yes, you’re a dear. Regis doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he picks on you. You’re a saint!”

Only pausing briefly to wonder what in the six Regis said about him, Cor regained his composure and finally smiled. “It’s not an issue; do let me know when you need all of them back.”

“Certainly, I’ll have someone swing by in a few days to retrieve all the gifts. I can’t tell you how helpful this has been. Regis has been looking through all the closets trying to find solstice presents. He’s terrible!” she giggled with a blush.

Oh, he was terrible alright, Regis was so gonna get it in training after the holidays. Cor didn’t mind helping out Aulea, she was like a sister to him, but Regis, he was more a grade A royal pain. They were friends and had their own little moments, but this time he’d overstepped his boundaries. Not only was he hiding Aulea’s gifts, but Regis had also tasked him with holding the prince’s things until the appointed time.

Except in Regis’ case, he simply had the items shipped directly to Cor’s tiny apartment. The giant box holding what Cor had already assessed was an enormous teddy bear was taking up half his modest living room. Why hadn’t the prince sent things to Clarus’ house instead? Though, he had a suspicion that Liliales would have probably already figured out what was going on and shared the news with Aulea. Those two were thick as thieves.

Taking the box from Aulea, Cor nodded and smiled again as she giggled and turned to leave, her mission was complete. Sighing at the silliness of it all he began heading towards the elevator. The sooner he was home the sooner he could relax. Alone.

Most of the time that thought didn’t bother him, but with all the gift-giving going around he was starting to wonder about his life choices. Staying single and out of trouble had served him well over the years. Granted he was still a teenager to some, and he’d done quite a bit in his short existence. Going to war changed a person. Romance it seemed had fallen by the wayside during this time. Now, though, as he was settling into life back at the Citadel the idea to seek out another’s company wasn’t so foreign anymore.

A faint shout drew him out of his ruminations as he neared the elevators. Turning he saw one of Regis’ secretaries rushing over. She was carrying a small gift bag and sporting a blush that matched the red tissue paper peeking out the top. Heaving a sigh at yet another gift being pawned off on him from Regis he stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, another gift to hold onto?” The girl stopped a few feet away and tried to reply but failed twice. She finally nodded and handed the bag to him. “I got it from here, thanks,” he muttered.

Without saying more the girl cast her eyes down to the floor and practically ran away from him. Shaking his head at the odd interaction he continued onto the garage. Aulea’s box fit in the trunk along with the little gift bag. Regis was getting lax on his gift wrapping if the additional bag was anything to go by. It was simple and only tied shut with a little sparkly ribbon.

Slamming the trunk closed he slipped into the car and drove home. The day had been long and he was looking forward to simply zoning out for the evening. When he shoved his key in the door twenty minutes later he dutifully placed the package with its mates in the corner. Any more and he’d not be able to see the TV. Plopping the little gift bag down on top he finally noticed the tag that had been attached.

His breath caught in his throat and a cold panic gripped his chest. The little piece of paper dangling from the bag said his name. Six, he’d assumed it was another gift to hide, not one for him! That poor girl had actually given him a gift and he’d played it off like it was nothing. No wonder she’d fled with such an odd look. He’d probably made her feel absolutely awful.

Without pause, he rushed back out the door and down to his car. Maybe she would still be in the office if he hurried. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that he realized he’d not even opened the gift, dear gods he was an idiot.

Of course, now that he was trying to be fast every obstacle presented itself. Red light? He got stuck. People crossing the street? They went in front of his car. Growling in frustration when he did finally reach the citadel he booked it up to the office suites. It was a slim chance that he’d find the girl but he had to try. He couldn’t go to sleep that night knowing he’d caused this mess.

When the elevator doors dinged open, Cor knew he was doomed. The floor was mostly dark aside from the main corridor lights. Groaning loudly he stepped forward and went hunting for anyone that might still be hiding in their office. He was about to give up when he heard a noise from the breakroom. Running over he found a guy rifling through the fridge.

The man looked up with alarm as Cor approached, “Ah I didn’t do it, whatever it is you think I did.”

“Huh? What are you going on about?” Cor asked in confusion.

“I know who you are and I didn’t do it, I swear.”

Rolling his eyes at the exchange Cor sighed, “I’m looking for someone else, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Oh thank the six, um, who are you looking for then?” the guy asked with wide eyes.

“A girl that works as one of Regis’ secretaries, she was here earlier.”

“The prince has more than one assistant, what does she look like?”

Thinking back to the timid girl Cor easily described her to the man. “Wavy dark long hair, she was wearing a red skirt and some sort of dark jacket I think.”

“Oh, that’s Mina. She left thirty minutes ago.”

Okay, this was helpful; he at least had a name now. “Where does she live?” Cor blurted before he could stop his brain.

“Um, I have no idea. Did she do something?

“Will you quit it with all the foreboding shit, I’m trying to find her to talk about something work-related.” He lied.

“Oh, oh cool, you’re the immortal after all I just assumed something bad had happened.”

“I’m just a crownsguard that went to war and survived.”

“Sure,” the man offered with a tight-lipped smiled. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

Shaking his head no, Cor turned and headed for the elevator again. He needed to make one stop at the security office before he left. What he was about to do was grossly unprofessional but he had to find this girl and apologize for his behavior.

Forty-five minutes later found him parked in front of a fairly elegant townhouse in the fancy part of town. He was sure Clarus’ house was around the corner or something. Having already gotten out of the car he walked up to the door and stared at the buzzer. It wasn’t too late to back out now. If the girl got freaked out by his visit he’d get in a lot of trouble.

Deciding it was worth the risk he pressed the button and waited. It took a few minutes but a figure appeared behind the frosted glass and unlocked the door. The man behind it could only have been a butler or housekeeper if his cold demeanor was anything to go on.

“How may I assist you, young man?”

Squaring his shoulders and letting his military training kick in Cor attempted to remain calm. “Evening Sir, I was hoping I might be able to have a quick word with Miss Mina.”

“And what may I ask is this regarding,” the man rebutted.

“She assisted me with something at work earlier and I’d very much like to thank her for the effort.”

“Perhaps this could wait until tomorrow when you see her at work.”

Shit, this wasn’t how he wanted things to go. “Of course, if that works better. If you could at least please tell her I stopped by to give my thanks I’d be very grateful.”

“I shall deliver the message. Though If I may, your name Sir?”

“Cor Leonis, Sir.”

The man blinked rapidly for a moment before holding up his hand, “If you might wait for a moment longer.”

Cor didn’t have time to answer as the door was promptly shut in his face. Okay, that was weird. The guy had told him to wait so that meant he should stay? Was he about to get arrested or something? Kicking his feet out to keep from locking his knees, Cor waited. Enough time had passed that he was certain the cops had been called and he was going to be in big trouble with the king.

The idea of leaving had crossed his mind, but he’d already given his name. What use would it be if he high-tailed it outta there? A figure behind the door caught his attention a second later. However, this time when the door opened, Mina was on the other side.

“Terrance said you had come to thank me for something?” she said meekly as she hid partially behind the door.

Cor straightened up once more and bowed courteously. “Forgive my actions earlier; I wasn’t aware the gift you’d handed me was for me. I thought it was something Reg—his highness had pawned off on you to give to me.”

“Oh, oh, I see,” she breathed out with obvious relief. A small hint of a smile was starting to show on her face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you; I simply didn’t realize what you’d given me.”

“That’s alright, I’m so glad you came to tell me, that makes me feel so much better.”

Relieved that his own efforts were making a difference Cor plowed on ahead. “Admittedly, I don’t know what you gave me yet, when I saw the tag with my name I raced out to try and find you to apologize.”

Mina giggled at the admission and smiled wider. “Should I tell you now or let you find out when you get back home?”

“Surprise,” he blurted with a sly smile. “And sorry to have bothered you at home, I broke a few rules getting the address but I just couldn’t let this lie.”

“I won’t report you,” she added softly.

“Most appreciated, I guess I should let you get back to enjoying your evening.”

Mina nodded and wavered slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Deciding to be bold Cor took a deep breath and asked an important question. “Do you have any plans for the solstice gala?”

“Yes, we’re decorating and getting everyth--,” Mina clamped her mouth shut mid-sentence. “Um, you didn’t mean preparing for the gala did you.”

Shaking his head no, Cor smiled and waited.

“For the gala itself, no, I don’t have any plans.”

“Would you like to go with me?”

The girl actually squealed when he finished asking and nodded furiously, “Yes, I’d love to.”

Grinning like an idiot Cor bowed again and began backing away slowly. “I should really go; otherwise we’ll be standing here talking about nothing for hours.”

“Wait, one last thing,” she added before disappearing briefly. When she came back into view she was scribbling something down on a pad of paper. “Here’s my number, we can coordinate when and where to meet.”

“Can I talk to you about other stuff too?” He teased.

Mina blushed and nodded. “Yes, you may.”

“Well then, I’m gonna go home and see what you gifted me.”

“Kay, drive safe, talk to you soon.”

With the simple goodbye Cor turned and walked back to his car, this was all so new, he’d never tried dating before with any seriousness. Mina was sweet and he was looking forward to getting to know her better.

He couldn’t help himself later that night when he sent Mina a picture of the gift after he’d opened it. A large black mug emblazoned with a golden lion on one side and a sword on the other had been the sole item in the bag, and he loved it.

Now, to figure out what to wear to this damned gala, crownsguard fatigues didn’t exactly fit the black-tie attire bill. Though he figured Mina would probably be more than willing to help him pick something out. Maybe this holiday season wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

#ffxv #fanfic #cor leonis

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amarabliss · 5 years ago

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Galahdian Dreams - 14 (Nyx Ulric/Reader)

Synopsis: Your father was the king of Insomnia. He was good and just. You never thought you’d meet anyone like him after he was taken from the world. Your Uncle Regis, has taken the throne and followed through on your father’s plans. It was good to see the city in capable hands.

Enter Nyx Ulric, refugee, Glaive, fighter…how is it he can see all your secrets? He knows how to set you off and he’s promised to not let you go…(AU for sure, Regis wasn’t supposed to take the throne, and our lovely Nyx has more of a past then we thought…)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

You stood outside the crystal chamber looking out at the morning sun reflecting off the buildings a you played with the necklace around your neck feeling the metal bead roll around your fingers. Your heart ached, though you should be happy. The refugee ward had been finished as of last week and it was a huge success.

Yet nearly half the residents there had been sent off to fight in the war and unable to enjoy. Your eyes shut as you pushed the tears back again letting your hand fall to your side.

“Don’t cry for me…” Nyx’s voice whispered in your ear as you took in a deep breath, “if you cry, I’m already lost…”

You clenched your jaw forcing them back and away as you heard someone approaching from the hall, “Ma’am?”

You turned seeing Drautos, “Captain…is it time?”

“Yes ma’am.” He bowed lightly before standing up straight, “Your companions and the prince assured me they would be waiting for you.”

“If Ignis has his way I’m sure they’ve been there all morning.” You walked over to him looking up into his eyes, holding the question you wanted to ask behind your lips.

He took in a breath in through his nose shaking his head, “No word yet, ma’am.”

You looked down to your hands, “Well…I hope to get that changed today. Thank you for your help. I know it can’t have been easy for you…”

“Knowing that you’re fighting for my people makes it worth it.” He told you as he stepped aside to allow you to pass, “I know my king would feel honored that you care so much.”

You gave him a small smile. It was still strange knowing that he was let in on yours and Nyx’s secret. Before Nyx left, he’d told you the Drautos would be looking out for you in his absence and that you could trust him with anything.

It really was all a hazy blur and the last four weeks just seemed grey and empty. The last bit of color left with Nyx.

After you’d been summoned back to the Citadel you were forced into closed chambers with your uncle and his closest advisors…

“With the attack on Tenebrae…we’re left with no choice but to go on the offensive.” Regis frowned listening to Randall speak, “If we don’t show a sign of force they may march against Insomnia.”

“They wouldn’t dare, nor would it matter…” Clarus shook his head before he sighed, “But I am afraid I have to agree with him, your majesty.”

Regis frowned as he leaned over the map on the table, “How long would it take to mobilize our troops?”

“Two days to get them assembled and have their affairs in order.” Clarus told him, “Messages would be dispersed tonight…”

Regis nodded slowly before looking to you, “I will need you to reach out to Accordo and Tenebrae…see if they need assistance or asylum…after that I will need you manage our face with Duscae, Leide, Cleigne, and our people.”

“I understand…” You nodded slowly before standing up looking at the map, “Where will you be sending the troops?”

“It shouldn’t concer-” Randall began to speak before Regis cut him off.

“Information has led us to believe they have troops to the west of here. They seem to be invading from Galahd.” Your uncle looked at you, his eyes holding a fierceness to them, “The fighting may get closer to our city then we like, but with this push we should maintain our peace here.”

“That’s so close…” You frowned looking at the map shaking your head, “Why weren’t we warned earlier? I know we had patrols there…”

“Had is the operative word.” Regis stood up frustrated as he glanced at Randall, “A…miscommunication recalled them off that route leaving us open for invasion…”

You looked between your uncle and Randall seeing tension, “I see…hopefully once we regain control, we can resume the patrol.”

“That is the idea, yes…” Regis slowly tore his eyes from Randall back to you, “Everyone knows what must be done. See to it.”

Everyone moved to the door and you watched Regis staring at the map. You waited for the door to shut, “Uncle…”

He looked up to you before letting out a sad sigh, “You should go…say your goodbyes…”

Your eyes widened a bit before you looked down, “I think he’ll understand me wanting to make sure you’re okay…”

“Is that concern I hear?” He smiled standing up straight, “I can assure you I’m fine…”

You moved around the table looking up to his face. You could see how tired he was. His hair was greying, his eyes were dark and heavy, “I know the weight you’re carrying…shielding the city…casting your powers off to others…Uncle Regi…you have to be careful. If you fall into stasis…”

“I am aware what could happen…and I have safeguards in place.” He put his hands on your arms smiling, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but you should go. He’ll have a lot to prepare for over the next couple days…and you might not see him for a long time…”

You stepped forward giving him a hug, not letting him have a choice, “We’ll get through this…all of us.”

You felt him tense under your arms before gently hugging you, “Your optimism gives me hope…now go.”

You smiled and started for the door, as you opened it, he spoke stopping you, “Y/N…”

“Yes?” You turned to him just seeing Nyx and Drautos out in the hallway waiting.

“Your hair…I like it like that. It suits you.” Regis smiled at you waving his hand around his head indicating your braids the girls had made you, “And watch yourself with Accordo…she’ll try to twist your words if you’re not careful.”

“Thank you…I’ll keep that all in mind.” You smiled at him as he turned back to the map studying it.

You stepped out into the hall closing the door before stepping over to Nyx. He looked at you with worry, “So…Clarus just told Titus to issue summons…”

“It’s what we thought…” You frowned shaking your head, “I’m so sorry…I wish…”

“This is what we signed up for.” Drautos interrupted you, “We knew it was an eventuality…”

“Still…” You looked down from them shaking your head, “Something…something isn’t right…”

“What do you mean?” Nyx stepped closer to you.

Your eyes shifted down the hall seeing people, more specifically Randall and few other councilmembers, “Not here…”

Drautos looked at the pair of you before he bowed slightly, “I’m sure the two of you have things to discuss…Nyx…you only have about an hour before you need to report…”

“Thank you…” Nyx nodded to him before looking to you, “Lead the way.”

You nodded at him walking toward the garden where you were sure you’d find privacy. You turned to him frowning once in the safety of the hedges, “Nyx…”

“You were worried about something back there…” He reached out putting his hands on your arms as he frowned. You felt comfort from his touch, “What got you so paranoid?”

“It’s just…something I noticed…” You looked at him trying to remain calm, “My uncle he’s a very even tempered most of the time and he…he was angry in that meeting. Apparently, the western patrol was recalled…they shouldn’t have been. There was some sort of lack of communication…”

He let out a huff looking away, “Seems to be a trend this last year…”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head a little.

He looked back at you giving you a smile, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t really want to waste time right now…”

You stared up into his eyes finally facing the reality of everything that was about to unfold, “Nyx…”

“Don’t cry for me…” He reached up taking your face into his hands smiling more, “If you cry, I’m already lost…”

“But…” You fell quiet when he kissed your forehead, “Nyx…this is…all too fast…”

“I know.” He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs, “We can’t seem to catch a break, can we?”

“How can you be so calm? You’re being sent away…” You grasped onto his hands feeling a well of tears pushing up to your eyes as you took in a deep breath trying to stop them.

“I have to believe that I’m made for something more than just being a soldier.” He spoke confidently, “This is only part of my story…I have to believe that my ending is going to be more heroic then dying in some war that I have very little stake in…”

“I wish I could share that sentiment…” You shook your head as a tear finally escaped. You let out soft sob shaking your head, “Nyx…”

“Oh no…don’t cry…” He smiled pulling you into his arms embracing tightly as he kissed the top of your head, “Please don’t…my heart can’t take it…”

“I’m sorry…” You held onto him shaking in his arms, “I just…the thought of losing you…Nyx, it frightens me…”

He sighed holding you in the stillness of the garden for a moment before he pulled away looking at your face, “There is something I want to say to you…”

You watched him carefully as he stepped away from you. You wiped your face with your hand nodding a little, “…okay…what is it?”

“That’s the thing…” He frowned a little, “I…want to…but with everything changing, it wouldn’t be right to.”

“So instead…” He went on reaching up to one of his braid making a face as he began to undo it, “I think this might carry a little weight in the right direction…”

“Nyx…you don’t have to do anything…” You shook your head knowing he cared about his hair, “I feel like I know what you’re trying to say…”

He nodded as he pulled off a bead from the braid holding it up to inspect it before he looked at you again, “I’m sure you do…but…”

He waved his hand for you to sit with him as he knelt to the ground. He moved close to you reaching up taking one of your braids and gently began to undo it, “Why do I feel like this is more than a little weight?”

He smiled at you but didn’t say anything until he was finished braiding the bead into your hair, “Just something to keep me close by…”

You reached up feeling the coolness of the metal bead, “Everything your people does has meaning, Nyx…”

“Yes, it does…” He nodded slowly taking in a deep breath as he seemed to inch even closer to you, “That is a promise to you…in the darkest night when I’m away…you have nothing to fear, I will return to you and I hope you’ll be waiting for me.”

“Making promises again…” You looked down for a second before looking back up to him.

“I’ll have you know I have yet to break a promise to you.” He took your hands in his bringing them up kissing your fingers, “When I return, I will tell you exactly what I want to say…”

You felt yourself tearing up again, but before they could breach you took his face in your hands kissing him. You felt him eagerly pulling you closer. You both knew that this would likely be the last moment the two of you could share alone, and despite the heaviness you felt in your heart, you were happy being the woman in his arms.

Never in your life had you thought you’d have the opportunity to meet someone and fall for them. Your life had been planned and relationships were far from your mind. Then everything fell apart and this stranger stepped into your life saving your life from day one…

You let your finger drift over your bottom lip as you stepped off the elevator. Glancing over at Drautos he gave you a small knowing smile. Ever your watchful guardian. He had promised Nyx he’d look after you in his absence

And did he ever. So much so, you wondered if the poor Captain ever slept. At your request, you didn’t have a guard unless you left the Citadel, yet Drautos seemed to find you wherever you were at. Apparently, he was not surprised in the least at the relationship between you two, and only warned his king to be careful.

“There you are.” Ignis stepped toward you, his eyes serious and ready for battle.

You gave him a small smile as he handed you a folder with their weeks of work inside. You looked from him to Noctis, Gladio, and a young Crownesguard named Prompto. He smiled eagerly at you giving you a thumbs up as you spoke, “Everyone ready?”

“We know what to do.” Noctis smiled at you, “I’ve got your back one hundred percent. This won’t go unknown anymore.”

“Thank you…Galahd’s people will thank you too when you take the throne.” You told him before walking toward the council chambers seeing everyone filing in, “Let’s go to boys…it’s time to make a point.”

“Nyx, you should have seen her in there…” Nyx smiled at Drautos on the screen explaining what happened earlier, “No punches were held…”

“She’s got a way with words when something matters to her.” Nyx told him imagining you in front of all those snobs, throwing files and statistics at them that they couldn’t refute.

“I had my doubts when she came to me for the list of everyone sent out to the front. She just wanted to send care packages to soldier’s families and it evolved into something so much more…Something that can really help our people…” Drautos sighed before looking back into the camera, “Nyx, she won the king over. When she started throwing the photos of every soldier on the table as he sifted through the names…all of the soldiers with you are all from Galahd…glaive or not…”

Nyx shut his eyes nodding slowly, “Yeah…we noticed…we also noticed that we’re not receiving any relief…”

“That’s going to change. It’s why I really called…not to give you an update on her ladyship.” Drautos explained to him everything you’d won for them, and it sounded like progress was being made on the civil rights front, “Relief will be filtering in soon…and hopefully in a couple weeks you’ll be coming home.”

“Can I actually say that out loud?” Nyx smirked a little before it fell, “Don’t answer that…”

“Nyx…” Drautos frowned looking at him, “If you need me…”

“We’re doing fine…” Nyx cut him off before he could start begging to be by his side again, “I need you there. Someone has to protect our people…don’t think because Y/N’s made your life a little easier on that front you can slack.”

“Har har…” Nyx smiled as Drautos rolled his eyes. He watched his mentor’s face become serious, “can I tell her anything for you? She’s still asking…”

Nyx felt himself hold his breath before he shook his head, “No…there’s nothing to tell her yet.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to tell her you miss her…” Drautos chastised him, “She certainly misses you…”

“I know, I’m a missable guy…” Nyx chuckled a little as he started to hear shouting behind him outside the tent, “I gotta go…”

“Nyx…” Drautos face filled with worry.

“I know…keep my head down…yada yada…” Nyx stood up looking at the screen, “Just…I don’t know tell her…thank you…”

Drautos sighed nodding, “As you command…”

Nyx gave him a small salute before disconnecting and running out into the damp evening of the battle camp seeing everyone running toward the cars. This wasn’t a good sign. He warped to the group looking around for Crowe.

“Move!” Her voice pricked his ears as a car took off.

“Crowe…” He ran over to her grabbing her arm as a mortar shell fell to the ground shaking the earth beneath their feet, “What’s going on?”

“Bastards moved in during the rainstorm…” She shook her head at him, “It’s bad…the trenches aren’t done and…”

“Don’t panic.” He spoke firmly looking around at everyone, “Is Pelna working on it?”

“He’s in the tent still…” Crowe shook her head, “Don’t get your hopes up…”

“I always bet on the underdog…” He told her as he stepped away, “Gather everyone for a line run, we can’t let these Nifs overrun us…”

He heard her calling after him in disbelief, but he didn’t stop, running for the tent Pelna was working in. He ducked in quickly seeing the man buried in supplies, “Pelna?”

Pelna popped up looking at him, “N-nyx…uh…”

“Pelna…what’s going on? You were supposed to be building by now…” Nyx worked his way over to him seeing the stress and worry on his face, “Pel…”

“Nyx…I just…” Pelna trailed off looking down, “I don’t know if…”

“Pelna…” Nyx squatted down looking up to Pelna’s face where he sat giving him supportive smile, “Forget the war…forget everything…I need you to build me a sky sail…for a hunt.”

He saw Pelna’s face light up a bit as it hit home, “A hunt…”

“The biggest hunt of our lives.” Nyx stressed to him punching him in the knee lightly, “Can you do it?”

“I…” Pelna looked back to his plans and everything around.

“Pelna look at me.” He did and Nyx spoke firmly this time, “Can you do it?”

Pelna’s jaw set before he nodded, “Yes…yes…I’ll need some help to have it finished in time.”

“I can spare someone. Get it done.” Nyx stood up patting his shoulder before he left, “Pelna…you’re doing good. Just breathe.”

“Breathe…right…got it, sir.” Pelna smiled at him as he walked out.

Nyx stepped outside taking in a deep breath wincing as he did before he shook it off heading back to Crowe. She was already barking orders at everyone before they turned and ran to their positions. She looked at him as he stopped next to her, “Well?”

“He’ll get it done.” He told her quietly.

“And Drautos?” She spoke in a hushed tone.

He turned to her a little more to keep it private, “Supplies are coming…relief in two weeks…but I wouldn’t hold my breath…”

“Nyx…we can’t keep doing this.” She frowned shaking her head, “We’re to our breaking point.”

“I know!” He hissed at her throwing out his arms, “What do you want me to do? Snap my fingers and get it done right now? I have fought to get what we have now as it is…”

She looked away from him shaking her head before looking at him, “Two weeks…how positive are you?”

“Apparently we have the endorsement of the Crowne Prince and former princess…” Nyx told her with a sigh crossing his arms, “we just have to hold out a little longer…Once Pelna gets the sky sail done, we’ll have the advantage we need to cut their throats…”

“I hope you’re right…” Crowe glared a little at him as she began to walk away, “I don’t wanna die here, your majesty…”

Nyx hung his head a little shutting his eyes tightly trying to remain calm. He hadn’t lost anyone yet…it was only a matter of time. He had to keep everyone going and the rotation seemed to be working to ensure no one stasis’d out on the field.

“I hope I’m right too…” He chewed his bottom lip for a minute before he went to take his own position in the fight. He was tired and hurt…just like everyone…but there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel and the closer he got the more he saw your face.

He wasn’t about to let some empire bastard steal that from him…

“How are you fairing?” You asked your uncle as you poured tea into his cup.

He looked up from his paperwork as you sat down across from him, “I long for the days I could see my desk and not missives…”

“I understand…seems like there is always one more, isn’t there.” You smiled at him as you put some sugar in your cup.

He stopped looking at you carefully, “…you’re worried about your guard?”

You tilted your head a little, “Of course, I’m worried…I care about him and his people.”

“His people…” Regis smiled a little, “Yes clearly…You have definitely stirred the pot…”

“They have been mistreated too long.” You set your cup down looking at him, “Is that why you called me here? To question me?”

“No…I called you because I’m worried for you.” He sighed a little letting his arms rest against the desk, “The physician has told me you haven’t come to pick up your medication…Is everything alright?””

You blinked at him shaking your head, “I didn’t realize that mattered to you.”

“Yours and Noctis’ health will always matter to me…” He smiled a little, “Is something wrong?”

“No.” You shook your head a little, “The opposite actually. I don’t think I need them anymore.”

“It’s dangerous to stop so suddenly…” He told you sternly.

“And I didn’t…not really…” You looked away from him, “it just happened over time…”

“…alright, just promise you’ll take care of yourself if something changes.” He sighed resigning himself.

“I will.” You smiled at him. Lately he’d been calling you for evening tea. You’d discuss the days events and progress on each other’s tasks. It was nice to be able to bounce ideas off him when you struggled.

You had to laugh because he was the reason, you’d been able to drive you point home in the meeting earlier. You’d asked him what he would do to make sure no one could say no to a proposal. He told you to put a face to it, so you put all the faces in front of them.

You’d asked for a list of the soldiers sent out and found that they were all Galahdian…not a single one was an a native Insomnian. You were furious bringing it to Drautos attention to have it verified. When he did you could see contained rage in his eyes. You had to do something.

Thus, you went to the best man for the job Ignis. Speaking about it in front of Noctis drew him to your cause quickly. The other two were just innocent bystanders, but you were so thankful they were there. It would have been so much harder without them.

“I’m very proud of what you did today.” You looked at him as he brought the tea up to his lips taking a sip, “Very queenly of you to see all your subjects. Not just those born here. Thank you for bringing it to my attention and sharing the experience with Noctis.”

“He volunteered.” You smiled at him genuinely, “He overheard me asking a question and actually was the one who spearheaded the statistics.”

“Really?” Regis smiled surprised, “Well…I suppose there’s hope yet…”

You both laughed before quieting down, “Do you think it’ll get better?”

He took in a deep breath leaning back in his chair, “Eventually…but I anticipate it getting much worse. You should talk to anyone in charge of our Galahdian friends and warn. Have Drautos help you for now until…well…have Drautos help you.”

“I will…as long as we can bring them home like we promised…” You looked out the window, “I think that will be the first bridge to trust…”

“No…the first bridge was you.” You looked back at him as he began working again, “You see them as everyone should…people…not foreigners…and you helped them. You will be the key to this, Y/N. Are you sure you can see it through?”

You stared at him for a moment before you nodded, “Yes, I will.”

“Good.” Regis stared you down as he spoke, “Our city will depend on it.”

It was in that moment you saw your uncle in his prime...something you hadn’t seen in such a long time and it reminded you of your father. They had their differences, but they shared many ideals and you were beginning to understand them more now then ever.

“I won’t let you down.” You told him confidently.

“I never doubted you would.” He smiled with a chuckle leaving you feeling satisfied.

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

Note

Does anyone realize in Nox that Regis triggered Ardyn? and if so do they know what he did that was the trigger? if so I put forth the suggestion of nicknames, instead of "Brother" as a term of address.

Hmmmm Regis might actually! He can be very perceptive at times, and he certainly wouldn’t put it past Mors to turn “brothers” into a trigger by, say, punishing Ardyn brutally for claiming any relation to Regis. If not, then I feel it’s either Clarus who brings up the idea or Cor, because both knew Mors and Clarus is logical while Cor as the right experience (sorry buddy) to go “this is something Mors would punish until the mere word became a trigger”. After all, how DARE a tainted welp claim to have any relation to the Lucis Caelum line? Let alone the precious crown prince?

Even if they don’t know what SPECIFICALLY triggered Ardyn, I feel like his reaction is enough for these guys, who have seen trauma before, to go “Oh no, we triggered him somehow” and try to avoid it.

The suggestion of nicknames is a great one! If I didn’t suck at nicknames. Ardyn’s version of Nickname is slapping some kind of sarcastic endearment on a name or title (see: Dear Nox, Dearest Nephew, My Dear Cid, etc etc) so Ardyn, once he’s comfortable, probably just calls Regis, “My Dear Regis” or “Oh Dearest King” (when being particularly sarcastic/teasing), stuff like that. I’m not sure if Regis is a nickname kind of person, and I also have no idea what he would call Ardyn, so he might just call him “Ardyn”? idk. Might dub Ardyn “Trickster” or even just “My Friend” once they’re more comfortable with each other because Regis knows better than to imply a family relation by that point.

Also everybody picture, years down the line after this has happened and the two have formed a sibling bond for all they carefully don’t call it a sibling bond and someone Tries Something at Regis and Ardyn intervenes and his magic ripples out again, angry and protective and still a little too glass-sharp to be healthy but so much BETTER than it was that first Reveal and Ardyn just- unthinkingly-

“Do keep your hands off my Dear Brother, would you? Else you’ll be liable to lose them.” and despite any potential seriousness or alarm in the situation in the background Regis is just- an Emotion. Because Ardyn just called him brother.

After the incident Regis carefully never mentions it because he doesn’t want to trigger Ardyn, and Ardyn may or may not even be AWARE he said brother. Because he’d been running a little high on Protecc Instincts and maybe, just maybe, in that moment he forgot all about the bitter, poisoned taint Somnus left on the word and instead was just having flashes between Regis and little Somnus when they were brothers and they CARED about each other and then it settles on Regis but the Big Brother Instinct was fully roused and so it just- slipped out.

Just- everybody picture it. Isn’t it great.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse

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the-truth-will-light-the-sky · 6 years ago

Text

Can’t Sleep Headcanon

Noctis

If, in a rare occasion that Noctis just couldn’t shut his eyes off for some well-deserved R&R, it’s a huge cause for concern.

The not-so-sleepy prince is most definitely down with a fever. He’d toss and turn in his bed, kicking the blanket and pillows off the mattress and simply lying down on his stomach while hugging a single pillow.

If his fever doesn’t come down soon, he’d stand up and hang out on his balcony, watching the city lights as they blink incessantly.

On the road, he’d be sitting by the firelight, wrapped with three layers of blanket and eating warm, comforting soup made by Ignis.

Ignis won’t sleep if Noct is sick either, so he’d be up all night, trying to find cures that could eliminate his liege’s fever.

Ignis

Ignis is used to having to little or no sleep. When insomnia hits him hard, he’d be reading different kinds of books from cookbooks, medicinal, historical and the occasional fiction.

Though Ebony is most definitely a staple Ignis kind of drink, this time it’d be a piping hot cup of tea accompanied by comforting silence…except when Gladio starts snoring and Prompto starts fighting his pillow in his sleep.

When insomnia strikes while he’s at the Citadel, Ignis would step out into the balcony of his room and stare at the stars. He would try and find all the constellations, using his memory to name the heavenly bodies that dot the night sky. This usually helps him fall asleep, but the moment it does take effect, it would be far too late to sleep...it’s already five in the morning anyway.

Prompto

Prompto’s insomnia is triggered by that quest in King’s Knight that he must finish at ALL COSTS before the time resets at four in the morning.

He has his headphones stuck to his ears and he’d be lying on his stomach as he plays, a can of Ebony at the ready and a really sour-sweet treat to keep his energy levels high.

It’s all worth it once he gets that freakin’ cool item from the quest, much to Noctis’ dismay since the sleepy prince is rarely ever up that late nor is he able to wake up earlier than six in the morning.

If thoughts haunt Prompto in the wee hours of the night, he would get up and stretch outside the tent, only to be followed by Ignis who would then talk to him about so many other things. Prompto realized that this is Ignis’ way of helping him ease his restless mind through really thorough distraction.

Gladio

Gladio rarely gets insomnia since he’s trained himself to sleep at a consistent schedule to keep fit and healthy.

The only time he stays up until dawn is a really good book. He knows he’s hooked if he can’t stop turning the pages to see what’s going to happen next. And damn, it’s the best darn feeling if he finishes it by dawn.

Gladio would tire himself out by exercise just to escape a rather feisty bout of insomnia.

Or he’d rather just stare at the camp fire, letting his thoughts wander. This is when he lets himself go face-to-face with his emotions and innermost thoughts. By the time he confronts them all, he’ll be very much sleepy afterwards. He’s happy to get rid not just of his insomnia but all those negative thoughts and fears. He’s ready to face another day with his usual steely resolve.

When in Insomnia, if Iris comes to his room after dinner, they’d be chatting the night away and completely forgetting the time.

They would gather around the television in his room and watch the new series that’s all the rage in Lucis. Of course, this late night binge watching comes with lots of eating too, not that Gladio minds. His time with his little sister is much more important than losing his healthy eating routine.

Cor

Cor has a messy sleeping schedule. It’s as if someone decided to dump everyone’s schedule into his already full to the brim timeline.

Usually he’s knocked out before ten in the evening. But some days he’d be turning in at four in the morning.

Recently, he’s been unable to get a shut eye…at all. And it’s making the marshal crankier during training.

The source of his messy schedule? Everyone, except himself.

He’s been monitoring the halls of the Citadel since five in the morning, drank his cup of coffee and ate his cheesy omelette during breakfast with King Regis as he reported security discrepancies around Insomnia, spearheading the meeting and designating tasks with Veritas and the rest of the Crownsguard, sparring with the prince and his friends by mid-afternoon, taking his rounds once again around the Citadel, reviewing tactical reports and strategies with Clarus Amicitia, polishing his weapons and taking his dinner in the hall with the Crownsguard before reading even more reports. His tiring and shifting schedules sent his body clock into disarray.

If he really needed to sleep for a very important morning errand, he’d take a long hot bath, chugging a small helping of red wine afterwards or drinking chamomile-lavender tea he received from Monica.

If all else fails, he’d just work out. Yup, the marshal is lean and mean even in his mid-forties. All the girls swoon, but of course they won’t let him know that.

He can’t be both Cor the Immortal and Cor the Heartbreaker because that would be unfair.

Veritas a.k.a. V

Veritas learned to love her insomnia.

She was very much frustrated whenever she can’t keep her eyes shut for even five seconds.

She decided to just go with it and along the countless sleepless nights, she discovered that she rather liked the late night silence. Nothing else to do but listen to her own thoughts and reminisce.

She would curl up on the chair and read a book with a hot beverage and would enjoy the swaying of the curtains in the gentle breeze, the cool light of the moon and the warm night light in her room.

While at Tenebrae, she would then proceed to write on her diary to tire her mind somehow.

She loves it whenever Ravus shares her bed to sleep — there is something so beautiful and making her hyper-aware of existence itself whenever she’s with him. It makes her appreciate every thing in this life. With such a feeling, she’d be able to doze off holding Ravus in an embrace.

Ravus

Ravus Nox Fleuret loves insomnia.

‘No Sleep’ insomnia, not the Insomnia. He hates the latter, don’t be silly.

He revels in the silence that keeps him company in the late hours of the night and would use this time to rethink things or write his reports.

He’d even play the piano as softly as possible. Valses are his favorite night time pieces.

If he has the time, he’d browse through his books about plants and medicine and would write down things he observed around Tenebrae, especially if it’s about the elusive Tenebraen eagle.

He likes to drink tea, particularly chamomile-lavender tea at night, or if the mood hits him, he’d either drink red wine or a hot cup of Altissian cocoa.

If he’s feeling really agitated for some reason during a sleepless night, he’d knock on Veritas’ door and would enter in a very endearing disposition, making it hard for V to say no to.

They’d sit on the couch or cuddle in bed, talking about all sorts of nonsensical and philosophical things until they’re running their fingers on each other’s heads all the way to the sweet moment of falling asleep holding one another at daybreak.

King Regis

King Regis HATES not being able to get his rest. As if the strain of the power of the ring is bad enough, not being able to recuperate is worst.

He has so many things to think and worry about, yet as his queen used to say, nothing is worth losing sleep for. Aulea was right, he would mutter and force himself to sleep.

When he’s feeling lonely and thinks this is one of the reasons why he can’t sleep, he’d take out Aulea’s favorite dress and hug it against his chest. It’s an instant remedy — he’d fall asleep just after inhaling her perfume and touching the fabric of her dress.

He remembers the warmth of her and dozing off to her ‘embrace’ sets himself at ease.

Noctis’ shenanigans would usually keep him awake too. If it’s about his son, he’d definitely be restless.

He would drink hot milk (Cid called him a sissy back at camp when he asked Weskham for a cup of warm milk to cure his insomnia) and he’d be a little more relaxed.

In a few minutes, he might just be able to fall asleep, with ‘might’ as the operative word.

Lunafreya

Lunafreya couldn’t sleep because of two things: her responsibilities as Oracle, and Umbra’s incessant snoring.

The dark haired canine would snore so loud it even irritates Pryna to the point where the snow-colored dog would hide beneath the covers just to escape the snoring.

Luna will walk around her room to tire herself up until she feels exhausted enough to sleep.

She’d also grab a book to read as she does so.

So when she finally feels the need to sleep, she’d be in a hurry to bury herself in the cozy sheets, only to wake up wide-eyed to Umbra’s motorcycle-like snores.

In the end, she would go to her parents’ bedroom and sleep there. She always falls asleep so well there.

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theperidotshade · 6 years ago

Text

@distressedherbalist, here’s the start of the Blind!Ardyn fic, as promised. This is the very rough beginning, the scene will be completed when I’m finished with Thanksgiving-related stress.

Kindness Is the Language

Regis could feel his life starting to slip away as Glauca drew back his sword to stab him once more. He braced himself for the final moment of pain.

It never came.

Regis fell to the floor as a heavy thud echoed behind him, followed by cautious, hurried footsteps and a skittering, clicking noise of some sort.

Darkness settled over Regis as gentle hands framed the wound in his back.

Regis woke to the heavy stench of smoke in the air. He was lying on a cushioned surface of some sort, wind roaring overhead. He groaned, his whole body throbbing.

"Rest, Your Majesty," a voice he thought he should recognize said, "We're almost to safety."

Regis let out a long breath, relaxing into the softness beneath him. He drifted off once more.

Regis woke again. Warmth was spreading through him, easing pain he'd been aware of even in unconsciousness. He stirred, sighing. The hands lifting themselves off his back paused.

"Your Majesty?" a particularly distinctive voice asked. He recognized those tones—but their presence was concerning. He opened his eyes.

Regis was resting face down on what seemed to be a cheap hotel bed—the pillowcase under his cheek scratched as he shifted his head further to the side to look around, and the smell of hotel laundry detergent was hard to forget.

Sitting in a chair pulled up to his bedside was exactly the person he expected—the Imperial Chancellor, golden eyes unfocused and a furrow etched between red-violet brows.

What Regis had not expected was the man hovering behind him.

Clarus sent him a grin. "What, old friend, did you think you'd be rid of me so easily?"

Regis gave a helpless laugh, reaching out a hand. Clarus took it firmly between his own as Izunia rolled his eyes, the motion stretching the scar tissue that covered over half the official's face.

"Do recall that you very nearly were removed to the Beyond permanently by the time I arrived," the Niflheimr said, standing carefully and trailing a hand along the arms and back of the chair to guide himself to the small desk set against the bland eggshell-white wall. He picked up a glass of water and two pills, which were handed over to Clarus.

Clarus, in turn, set them on the nightstand and leaned forward to help Regis turn over and sit propped against the headboard with a bunch of pillows shoved behind his back. He offered Regis the glass and pills.

At Regis' questioning look, Clarus explained. "They're just painkillers. When he healed me, I was sore for a few hours afterwards, and he was just treating me for the impact with the wall. You were run through, Regis, and required a phoenix down and two rounds of healing. It's going to hurt when the effects of his magic wear off."

Regis took the pills, swallowing them down with a few sips of water. The liquid soothed a dryness in his throat that he hadn't known was bothering him. He drank some more.

Then the realization hit him as he processed the full extent of Clarus' statements.

Nearly choking on the water, Regis swallowed cautiously, then tried his best to keep the incredulity out of his voice. "Healing?"

Izunia, moving slowly about the room as he prepared and heated some instant chickatrice broth in the microwave, snorted. "Yes, healing. How else would you foolish creatures have survived what Glauca inflicted on you? I assure you it would have been very unlikely if I'd relied solely on scientific means."

"He calls us foolish," Clarus stage-whispered, "But I saw him warp-strike a magitek armor using his cane. By hearing alone."

Izunia sniffed. "When you've lived without sight for two thousand years, then you can tell me what's foolish or not foolish."

Regis blinked, looking between them. "I…am more confused now than I was when you started speaking."

Izunia sighed, returning to the chair with a mug of broth, which he handed to Regis before sitting. "It's not the most straightforward of tales, though I would have thought this—" he gestured at his scarred face, "Would have clued you in to my…history with magic."

"Well…yes," Regis said, "But I assumed Niflheim had attempted to recreate the Ring."

"Not an unreasonable assumption," Izunia said, running his fingers lightly over the spiderweb of old burns splayed across his face, "But inaccurate. These scars were actually inflicted by the Ring."

Regis' eyes widened. "How?" he asked, stunned.

Izunia smiled sympathetically, patting Regis' knee. "It's quite simple, really. I am…well, to put it frankly, older than the kingdom of Lucis. I held the Ring at its nascence."

Regis blinked, looking to Clarus for confirmation—receiving it in the form of a slow nod. Huh. Izunia…might be telling the truth.

"I think perhaps I ought to hear this tale of yours from the beginning," Regis said about two seconds after the silence stretched out into awkwardness.

Izunia settled back in his chair. "Ah, yes, the beginning. First, you should know that the Lucis Caelum line dates back to Solheim, a noble family very distantly related to the Imperial bloodline that made its fortune manufacturing airships—hence the name, the House of Heavenly Light. When Solheim fell, the second son of that House was the only survivor of all his relations. He salvaged what he could, migrated east to what is now Leide with a group of other survivors, and adopted a lot of the local customs, even translating his family name into the language. He married a Galahdan woman from one of the nomadic trading clans, and they had a daughter, Mira. She later changed her name to Regula, and that is where this tale truly begins, with her."

Izunia turned his face away, rubbing the palm of one hand slowly. "Regula was a political genius, a true prodigy in the art of statecraft. At the age of nineteen, she began to unite the Solheimr that remained, integrating them into the society of the Lucian natives. Within ten years, she led the bare beginnings of the nation that became Lucis—within twenty, she was undisputed Queen of the Kingdom of Lucis. Though we didn't call it that, not until later."

The Chancellor sighed, longing for something indefinable crossing his face. "Regula had two children with a Lucian noble, the first of whom was born in the very early years of her endeavor, nearly a decade before her younger child. The second, her son, you are familiar with: Somnus Lucis Caelum, called the Mystic and the Founder King, despite not actually being the founder."

Izunia half-chuckled, shaking his head. "The first…well, he never cared much for anyone's ideas of what his gender ought to be, so let's just refer to him as her eldest child. He was naturally gifted with magic, a healer of some renown, whose gifts only ever failed him thrice: first, when he could not save his mother from the accident that took her life; second, when the Starscourge made its way out of Solheim proper to decimate the survivors; and third…we'll get to that later."

Regis, listening closely, felt as though he was on the brink of some astounding realization, if only he could piece it together. He watched Izunia's fingers pick at a loose thread on the cuff of one of the official's voluminous coat-sleeves.

The Chancellor continued. "This healer inherited his mother's position of leadership at twenty-five, assuming guardianship of his fifteen-year-old brother at the same time. It quickly became clear that despite the effectiveness of his quarantine protocols, the Starscourge would, if left unchecked, kill off every human in the entire region. So the healer took a risk—he bargained with the Astrals for the ability to save his patients from the Scourge."

The loose thread snapped in Izunia's hand. "Bahamut meddled with the healer's magic, creating three very significant changes—first, he tied the healer to two powerful magical artifacts, granting Regula's eldest child and the entirety of his line the use of other types of magic; second, the King of the Astrals rendered the healer functionally immortal, preventing him from dying of the Scourge he'd be exposed to in the course of healing his patients; and third, and most importantly, Bahamut altered the healer's gift so that he could take the Scourge from his patients—and into himself."

Regis sucked in a breath. Izunia sent him a strained smile in response. "I'm certain you can discern the problem with that."

Regis swallowed, throat dry. Clarus appeared unsurprised by any of this, instead watching Izunia closely…and was that concern in the Shield's eyes? Oh, oh, Izunia was—

"What happened, then, to the healer?" Regis asked, suspecting he knew what the answer would be.

"I was wearing the Ring when the amount of Scourge-parasites I'd taken in became too much for the Crystal to handle," Izunia said. He gestured at his face. "You see the results."

Regis let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes. That—was about what he'd expected, yes, but it was still unsettling to have one's worldview turned upside down in the span of a few minutes.

"So, your name isn't actually Izunia," Regis said.

"It was my father's surname, but as my mother's heir, I always bore the name of her House."

"Ardyn Lucis Caelum."

"Exactly."

There was a moment of strained silence in which Regis tried to process everything he just heard. The mug of broth in his hands grew steadily colder.

"I am so glad you told me this beforehand," Clarus addressed the Chancellor. "I can enjoy the look on his face without dealing with my own shock."

Regis scowled at his friend, who just grinned in response.

The Chancellor laughed, but the subtle signs of strain still remained in his voice and the set of his shoulders.

"Well," the ancient immortal said, "I suppose I'll have to live with the disappointment of not seeing either of your expressions for myself, especially since the rest of my tale will have to wait. I need to check in with my secretary before they think they need to start searching for alternate employment. Excuse me, Your Majesty, Lord Amicitia." He stood, retrieving his cane from its leaning position against the nightstand, and pulling his phone out of his coat pocket. He approached the door, cane tucked under his arm and reaching out to feel his way down the door to first the deadbolt and then the knob.

Regis cleared his throat.

The Chancellor's head cocked, the official pausing with his hand trailing down to rest on the doorknob.

"What do I call you?" Regis asked.

The Chancellor turned his head in Regis' direction with a faint smile. "Call me 'Ardyn,'" he said, "And don't think your lack of sipping that broth has escaped my notice. You'll need to stick to liquids until your insides re-accustom themselves to being whole. Do try to consume some of it before I return, yes?"

Ardyn opened the door, slipping out into the hallway. The door shut firmly behind him, and a moment later the scrape and click of a cane dragging along carpet was heard.

Regis turned to Clarus, taking the healer's advice and sipping the lukewarm broth. It didn't have the most pleasant of flavors, but it was comforting and eased the empty feeling in his stomach a little.

Clarus, noticing Regis' questioning look, came to sit in the chair Ardyn had vacated.

"So," he said, "I guess we have a lot to discuss."

Regis sipped the broth again, savoring the way it slid down his throat. "Do you trust him?"

Clarus hummed, settling back into the chair. "With our lives? Yes, he seems to need us alive, for now. With our best interests? I don't yet have enough observations to hazard a guess. With Lucis? I couldn't even begin to tell you."

Regis nodded. "So we remain on our guard, and hope for the best."

They exchanged grim smiles.

"What happened, exactly?" Regis asked. "I sent the Ring with Lady Lunafreya and Glaive Ulric, but I do not know what happened after Glauca stabbed me."

"Ran you through, you mean," Clarus said with a reproving glare. "I don't know all of it, but after Glauca missed me with the sword, I blacked out for a moment and came to around the time Ravus Nox Fleuret started screaming. Right after you fled into the elevator with the Oracle and Ulric, the Chancellor came in. Glauca was caught off-guard, I think, because he started arguing with Ardyn. I don't think he was supposed to even be in the city, let alone in the thick of things. They only stopped when Ravus pointed out you were getting away."

Clarus ran a hand over his head. "Glauca took off after you, and Ardyn came right over to me. He was wearing these magitek goggles with a matching earpiece that were narrating his surroundings, I think, because he got over the corpses everywhere with no trouble. He knelt next to me and only paused to ask my permission to treat my wounds. I didn't think he could do much for me, but the next thing I knew, his hands were glowing and I started to feel a whole lot less like I'd just been flung into a wall."

Regis hummed thoughtfully, sipping more broth. "Was it at all similar to an Oracle's method of healing?" That could have interesting implications for the application of Regis' ancestral magic…

Clarus shot him a look of fond exasperation. 'You utter nerd,' the expression seemed to imply.

"Do you want to hear the rest or not?" Clarus asked.

Regis sighed. "Fine. Go on."

Clarus shook his head, but continued. "Ardyn told me to stay put while the magic settled, that he was going to see whether you'd managed to escape. Around the time I was able to stand, he came back in a hurry, his hands streaked with blood. He told me you'd been injured, and asked me to carry you to his car so we could all get out of the city. Naturally, I followed him down to where you were lying next to Glauca's corpse, and we got out of there as fast as we could. I'm about ninety percent certain he killed Glauca himself, though I'm not sure how and he's been his usual level of eloquent-while-saying-absolutely-nothing-of-substance about it."

Regis thought over those last few minutes before he blacked out and nodded. "Oh, he did, I'm certain of it. Glauca was about to stab me again, and then I fell to the ground because Glauca had fallen too. The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was that cane of his." He paused. "Wait, did you say he had a car?"

"That's what you latched onto?" Clarus asked, amused. "Yes, Ardyn has a car. He doesn't drive it himself, apparently—has his secretary do it, mostly, or badgers the Nox Fleuret boy into chauffeuring him around. I drove us out of the city while he kept a watch on your vitals. He's got a ton of medical degrees, he said, in addition to the magical healing powers. Those he told me about while we put some distance between us and anyone who might have followed. As long as I kept my face covered, the Nifs would let us right through the blockades—they know his car, it's pretty distinctive."

Regis laughed. "Is it anything like his clothes?"

"Worse," Clarus said, "The clothes were what he wore back when he could see, according to him, and he just had them recreated in a bunch of different colors and materials every time he needed new ones. The car, he had someone come with him to rate how much each option stood out in a crowd, and chose the one they said was most eye-catching. That was the point, supposedly, because he needs to describe the car to whoever is going to be driving him around."

"Sensible," Regis said, smirking.

Clarus grinned back. "I'm certain that's not the whole reason, though I couldn't get him to admit it. I think he just likes people's reactions to his being outrageous."

"Seems likely," Regis replied, "Did you happen—"

A tap at the door interrupted him. Clarus stood and walked over to the door to look out the peephole.

He gasped, reaching for the doorknob with what Regis thought might be…eagerness?

The door swung open.

There, standing in the entryway looking tired and like he was going to have a nervous breakdown any minute, stood Cor.

Regis stared, mouth opening and closing helplessly for a moment. How in the name of the Six had Cor managed to find them?

"Well," Cor said, "Aren't you going to let me in?"

Clarus crossed his arms. "Not until I know for sure it's you."

"Fair enough," Cor replied, pulling out his phone to show Clarus something on its screen.

Clarus raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and stepped aside to let their friend pass. He shut the door firmly behind him.

Cor strode straight to Regis' side and knelt by the bed. He said nothing, but took one of Regis' hands in both of his own, pressing his forehead to it.

Regis gently rested his other hand atop Cor's head. "I am glad to see you again, my friend."

Cor raised his head, causing Regis' hand to slide off awkwardly.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I mean this with the highest degree of respect, but what the hell were you thinking?!?"

Clarus snorted, covering his mouth with his hand.

Regis glared at his Shield, then turned his irked gaze on Cor. "I was hardly in a position to act otherwise. The treaty—"

Cor rolled his eyes. "Not that. What's this I hear from Ulric about you taking on Glauca alone?"

Regis snapped his mouth shut. Ulric? Ulric made it out…Lunafreya and the Ring were safe. Thank the Six.

Cor sighed. "Look, I know why you did it, but if what I hear from Ardyn is true, you would have bought them very little time at all. The reports I've been getting seem to confirm that most of the Glaives who survived the initial attack were traitors, Ulric the most obvious exception. He says Ostium's on the up-and-up, but pretty much everyone else who was loyal? Dead. The rest would have been in pursuit of Ulric and the Oracle, with all the resources of the Glaive to aid them."

Regis shook his head. "I suspected. But I could not have kept up, not in the state I was in, and it seemed the only way to give them a chance." He paused, reviewing Cor's words. Had he said…?

"Cor," Regis began, slowly drawing out his friend's name, "Why exactly are you on given-name terms with the Chancellor of Niflheim?"

Clarus stiffened, eyeing them warily, ready to spring into action.

Cor smirked. "He's not just the Chancellor. But that wasn't what you were asking. Remember the anonymous source that's been passing intel on to us for years, the one that will only contact me?"

Regis blinked. "Are you saying…" From the corner of his eye, he could see Clarus relax slightly as the implications hit him.

Cor nodded. "I've known him for—decades, really. Ardyn was the one to patch me up after I dragged myself out of Taelpar. His situation's complicated, but he's not in Niflheim entirely voluntarily." He shook his head. "It's not my story to tell. But after he delivered the treaty terms, he confirmed that Niflheim was up to something, and that he intended to act as soon as he could to do damage control. We were going to meet here no matter what happened to touch-base, and I knew by the absence of his usual drivers that he'd succeeded in getting someone out."

#my fanfic #ffxv #Blind!Ardyn #Evil Astrals AU

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mtraki · 6 years ago

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Cor Week Day 7

Day 7: Cake | Cor doesn’t celebrate his birthday | Cor gets thrown a surprise birthday party (Happy Birthday, Cor!)

It was a strange morning. For whatever reason Cor’s body was plagued with a dragging lethargy, despite getting plenty of sleep-- more, in fact, than he’d grown accustomed to. Maybe that was the issue…

Maybe that also explained the quiet, but insistent nagging in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something.

It didn’t explain the other strange things about the morning: like how instead of gathered around for breakfast, the others were scattered in disparate activity. Or how Prompto was avoiding him. Again. Or as well as any of them could avoid one another without leaving the confines of the camp. It was in the way he refused to meet his look-- turning another direction or ducking to the side, busying himself with nothing.

But here was Ariel, bringing him a steaming mug and a smile, pressing the metal and ceramic into his hands before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek, “Good morning. Hungry?”

“Mm,” He agreed into the lip of the mug, welcoming the bitter taste and warmth of coffee only barely sweetened. It wasn’t burnt, so she must have made it. Prompto didn’t drink it, and Nyx claimed to like it long over the coals. Before the young woman could continue on, he caught her wrist, and her dark eyes returned to his face, “What’s wrong with Prompto?”

Cor watched confusion flicker over her expression before she gave the blond an inquisitive look herself, “Nothing…? What’s wrong with Prompto?”

“He’s avoiding me.”

“Really?” She frowned, lips pursing slightly, “Do you want me to ask him about it?”

“... No.” And Cor sipped again, releasing his companion, deciding he could ask himself.

“Hey Prompto.”

The blond nearly jolted out of his boots and turned to stare wide-eyed, “Y-y-y-yess-sir?”

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong!” Was the reply with the most unconvincing delivery possible, secrecy and guilt flashing through every line in his face and body.

“Nothing besides how we’re suddenly out of fire-starters and potions,” snarked Nyx as he came back from where he’d been rummaging through their supplies, “Seemed somebody shorted the two we had out…”

“That wasn’t--”

“--Oh no? You’re the only one who uses them for stuff other than lighting fires for cooking, kid.” Ulric had mastered the technique of delivering an effective guilt-trip with an incredibly cheerful tone. The blond’s mouth worked uselessly while his face went from bleached bone to bright red.

“So now I gotta go get another one. And an endless match like I said in the first place…” The Galahdian went on, just as cheerfully.

Furrowing his brow, thinking of their very light wallet, Cor countered, “... Do we really need replacements? We have magic.” “Yeah most of the time we have magic.” Nyx shrugged, “If we’re all together, and Ariel and I are good to go. If that checklist isn’t filled out, are we just gonna stay in the dark and eat cold food? Come on…”

It was a strange morning when Nyx was thinking further ahead than he was… Cor shrugged, “You going now?”

“Yeah. You coming?”

“... Sure. Let me eat first.”

“I’ll get you a plate, old man.”

They were just crossing under the stone arches leading to Lestallum when Nyx looked at him, bemused, “Okay, what are you doing?”

Frowning back at him, Cor answered, “What.”

“You keep messing with your pockets. Are you looking for something or just fondling yourself?”

“Funny.” Sighing, the Marshal withdrew his hands after verifying once again that he did have all his personal effects on his person and hadn’t misplaced one “... I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve forgotten something is all.”

“Really? Like what?” The amusement on Nyx’s scarred face split into a full grin.

It was strange, suspicious almost, so Cor slowed his pace and spoke with more consideration, “... I don’t know.”

The Kingsglaive hadn’t slowed, and was continuing on ahead, casual and confident as ever, “Must be your age catching up with you.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Cor stopped, “... My age.”

“It happens to the best of us, Marshal. No reason to be dramatic about it.”

“... So that’s what was going on…”

Now Nyx turned and looked at him, back to the quirking eyebrow and lazy smirk, “Oh?”

Cor didn’t answer, he was too busy remembering how he’d strangely been the last one out of the tent, and how the others hadn’t been eating together but doing separate tasks around the camp. How Ariel had come immediately to monopolize his attention. How Prompto had been acting so strange and evasive. Nyx’s sudden accusations…

“Ulric,” He snarled, pinning the younger man with a glare, “you’re in on this.”

“In on what?”

“The three of you are planning something for today. For my birthday.” Irritation throbbed through his guts, “... This is entirely unnecessary.”

“Some of us don’t agree.” Nyx shrugged.

“We don’t have resources or time to waste on celebrating a middle-aged has-been getting one year older. You know I don’t want a fuss made over me. At all.”

The amusement left Nyx’s face and he folded his arms, “Okay, I could agree with your sentiment until you called yourself a ‘has-been’. If you’re a has-been, what does that make me? Your self-depreciation has no place in this conversation, Cor.”

“What are they planning?”

“Nothing expensive.”

Irritation threatened to flare into anger, something cold etching along his bones. Cor swallowed it back. “... I don’t want to waste time and energy with this.”

“Can I ask why?”

It was a reasonable request. More reasonable than Cor was feeling, but he sighed slowly and pinched between his eyes, “Bad memories. Birthdays were never a good time growing up. Then… Re--His Majesty found out about it, and tried to make… kind gestures. A crown prince’s kindness looked a lot like pity back then. He and the others learned to… tone it down… over the years. Now they’re gone, and I’m growing older without them.”

He wasn’t sure if Nyx would get it. What he’d learned of Galahdian culture had reinforced their clannish, survival-focused customs-- birthday celebrations were private affairs within close social circles. Nyx might be left wondering if he and the others were somehow outside Cor’s closest social circles. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was just… the tradition. Regis had re-framed the birthday tradition for Cor from what his childhood had made, and now that Regis and Clarus were gone, and Weskham and Cid far away… He just didn’t have the wherewithal to try and establish a new tradition without them. It just didn’t matter that much to him...

Nyx was looking at him, then he shrugged and dropped his arms to his sides, “Okay, sure. I can get behind that.” “Thank you.” “It wasn’t ever me you needed to convince.” Nyx’s smile was apologetic, “Come on, we still have shit to buy.”

Shit…

Altissians had altogether much different and dramatic views on the cultural significance of birthdays and the commemoration of them.

“Please don’t.” Was all he said when he saw the camp. It wasn’t, he admitted, as bad as Cor had dreaded. No balloons or streamers. No crowd of people. Only Cid and Cindy, a small round cake, and a few small gifts wrapped in scrap paper and string.

And his two other companions who were thinking themselves very clever-- though he thought Ariel looked a bit distressed, as if keenly aware that unwritten rules from her childhood demanded that if she really cared, she’d have arranged for so much more.

Prompto was happily preparing to snap photos.

“Happy birthday!” They all cried.

“Thank you.” He was suddenly glad that Nyx had insisted on a bottle of whiskey-- which Ariel was coming over to take from him, along with the other supplies he and the Galahdian had carried.

“--I know.” She interjected before he could tell her, “You’re mad at me. That’s fine. It’s just a little cake and a few small gifts and your friends and then some shots of whiskey, okay?”

“Just so we’re clear.”

“Are ya still on about all that, kid?” Cid groused at him, a scowl on his face but a grin hidden in the creases of his eyes, “When are you gonna grow outta bein’ such a brat?”

“Maybe after you do, you old coot.”

It was, after all, a nice little respite from the usual routine of their days of hard travel broken up by frantic battle, and when they settled down around the campfire with shots of whiskey, Cor could quietly admit to himself that it hadn’t been a waste of a day after all. The cake, now gone, had been tasty and enjoyable-- especially the satisfaction of smashing the remainder of a slice into the side of Nyx’s head so that frosting was still in bits of his hair and probably in his ear after the Kingsglaive had thought himself quick, clever, and ballsy enough to bump Cor’s forkful into his nose. Prompto had graciously taken a slew of shots despite his laughter.

If either Hammerhead mechanic thought anything of how casually the four of them leaned and lounged on each other, they didn’t voice it. Cor figured they knew-- Cid most certainly understood what he was looking at, even if he didn’t understand how it had happened. Cid knew what kind of trust was needed to be able to casually touch Cor.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how it had happened either. It just had. This was his family now, after Insomnia. These were the people he wanted to go through the end of the world with. Even if it took more than one birthday to get there.

#corleonisweek #ffxv cor #cor leonis #happy birthday cor #polyship!au #nyx ulric #prompto argentum #cindy aurum #cid aurum #cake #surprise party #culture clash

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autumn-maple13 · 6 years ago

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Lost to Time - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Search Begins – For What?

Amara watched the expressions on her friends’ faces (and anyone nearby) change into looks of horror and grief as she told them (select portions of) what she had seen in Insomnia. Pausing after the death of Clarus, as well as the death of Regis, they gave Noctis a few moments to collect himself before urging her to continue. Ending her tale with the same lie she had given Cor, the woman was well aware of the look of disbelief that crossed Ignis made her shrink in on herself, her hands shaking in her lap as she looked away from the guys.

“At least… that’s what I told Cor.”

“Amara?” the guys were confused now, not knowing her to lie so blatantly.

“The truth is after I reached my house, I ran into Ardyn. He got me out of the city. I think he wants me alive for some reason.” She feigned confusion of her own, looking up at them. “To be honest, I don’t know how I got out of the city – I fell out not long after I ran into him and don’t even remember if he spoke to me. I mean, I’m sure he did but everything’s just a blank… Well, I’m sure you guys can understand why I was so scared to tell the Marshall that, what with so many of the Glaives…”

Ignis pushed his cup of coffee across the table to her. “You didn’t want him to think you were one of the traitors as well, that’s understandable.”

Noctis nodded, though it was clear by the look on his face that his mind was still elsewhere. “All that matters is that despite everything you still told us the truth.”

“We’ll keep this a secret too!” Prompto gave her a smile.

Gladio took a breath, burying his face in his hands. “It doesn’t feel right, but if you felt like you had to tell the Marshall that, I won’t say any different.”

Amara put on a slight smile, motioning to Ignis’s cup of coffee. He gave her a nod, then got up to go talk to the diner’s owner (had they called him Takka?) leaving her there with the others. With Prompto and Noctis on either side of her she couldn’t help but feel a little safer than she had earlier, but guilt still edged her thoughts.

It was still clouding her mind as she followed the boys out to a haven some several yards out behind the Garage – though an easily ended attack from some Sabertusks provided a decent distraction until they reached their camping spot. While the others worked to get everything set up, Noctis pulled her aside and motioned for her to follow him down to a lightning deposit. With the proximity of the crackling deposit blocking a lot of the sound around them – she realized Noct was wanting to talk to her about something he absolutely did not want the others to hear.

“Amara, how are you doing without dad’s magic?” despite the events of the day he was still concerned about her abilities?

“I won’t slow you guys down, I promise.”

“No, no Amara that’s not what I mean. The way you reacted when you connected to him, I wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again.”

She shook her head. “No, it just stung a little bit. I didn’t even notice it until later.” Noctis seemed satisfied, but when he didn’t move, she was left wondering what else was on his mind. “What’s up?”

“I want to connect you to my armiger. Those blades of yours are good and all, but if we get attacked by another pack or swarm, I think we’d all feel better knowing you could fight properly.”

Fear shot through her, she had to fight to stay calm – keep her armiger from throwing a weapon into her hands. “I don’t know… I mean, it hurt so bad when I connected to King Regis… With his being ripped away the way it was, wouldn’t it make being connected to you even worse? I’d be out of commission for a while in that case.”

“I know, but I think having you at full capacity would be worth it. The Empire has drop ships all over the continent looking for us – fuck the wildlife, if they send a platoon after us, we’re in serious trouble without you being your best.” His own fear was clear in his eyes, mixing with the grief he still obviously held from their earlier talk. It made her consider just how worried the others must be about it if he so worked up over it. So despite her own fears about it, she nodded.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

With a nod, she watched the Prince (or should he be ‘King’ now?) close his eyes and focus on her. She did the same, willing her own powers to play nice and not reveal itself when the connection was made. It came as a surprise when she felt his powers not only reach her but combine with her own, and when she opened her eyes, she realized he seemed to be unaware of her side of things. He gave her a look when he opened his eyes again; with a shrug she summoned one of the weapons she could feel floating around in his armiger’s reach, a laugh escaping her when she realized what it was.

“You scored your own spear I see!”

Noct was obviously relieved, giving her a grin and motioning for her to follow him back to the haven as he told her about how he got it from an Imperial Soldier on their way to check out the situation in Insomnia. The guys were also clearly relieved, smiling as the duo rejoined them.

“Did you plan work, highness?” Ignis had the teasing tone again, which triggered a grin to pop up on Gladio’s face.

“You do know that since we’re so closely connected, we felt her connecting right?”

“I know, I know, I just didn’t want you guys to jump on her about it.” Noctis sunk down into one of the folding chairs set up around the fire. Amara was content to listen to them bickering playfully as she plopped down on the stone, stretching out until she felt her back pop.

She must’ve dozed off though, next thing she knew she was trying to sit up in the tent – Gladio and Ignis trapping her between them. Judging by the lack of noise from outside she figured it must still be pretty late and opted to carefully pull herself free to slip outside the tent.

Amara took a seat on the edge of the haven, looking out over the landscape before she laid back on the rock and started to study the sky again. Part of her training with the Glaive was astrology so they could use the stars to navigate if they got lost on missions. It was so much clearer out in the open expanse of the Leide region, though that fact made a pang of homesickness shoot through her.

Her home was really gone, huh?

All of Lucis is your home. It wasn’t the usual voice that was overshadowing her thoughts this time – with a jolt she realized it was one of the women she heard the day she was connected to Regis. Your past is not one that is to define you, it is merely to be a guide as you find your true history.

‘Who are you?’ she tried to reach out but received no answer. A sigh escaped her, and she resigned herself to going back to stargazing. She didn’t realize she dozed off again until she felt a pair of arms slipping under her. Opening her eyes, she spotted a mass of tattoo first thing.

“What time is it Gladio?”

“Just after five. Gotta admit you had me worried when I woke up and didn’t see you.”

“Sorry, it was just too hot in there.”

“So, you decided to go sleep on the edge of camp?” he chuckled.

“That’s where I usually slept on Glaive missions. We didn’t always have room for tents, so we’d have to sleep where we could in what we could a lot. On the bad side though, beds are too damn soft for me now. Fuckers feel like I’m gonna fall straight through.” She stood up almost as soon as Gladio sat her in a chair, watching him wince as her stretch made her spine produce a sound akin to an empty water bottle being squeezed. “Whatcha doing up so early?”

“Was gonna go for a run.”

“Oh great, where’d my boots go?”

“I’ll get them. You might want to make sure your back isn’t broken.”

“No need, here you go,” they both looked in surprise at Ignis as he walked over from the tent. “I heard you two talking and figured I should get ready to make breakfast.”

“Thanks Iggy.” She was aware of the two watching in curiosity as she expertly pulled on those thigh-high combat boots, checking the straps for those bits of red armor that now braced her shins. They clearly caught the eyes of both men, and the fact that they were not in the placement she had put them in the previous day made her chuckle at the thought of the guys toying with them – imagining their blatant “what the fuck” faces.

That gave her an idea, and as she stood up, she stretched again – starting to walk slowly towards the edge of the haven. “Hey Gladio, how far do you usually run?”

“A couple miles at least.”

“That plateau way over there, is it too far?”

“Nah, we can run there no problem.”

“How about we race there?”

“Even better,” she could hear the grin on his face and felt a smirk spread on her lips.

“Ready?”

“Sure thing.”

“Then go!” Ignis laughed as Gladio faltered, seeing Amara run to and launch herself straight off the edge of the haven. She hit the ground several feet away and was already a decent distance ahead when Gladio made it to the base. The woman was incredibly surefooted, far more than Gladio, as she kept her lead, only slowing down as she got closer to the road. Gladiolus crossed it not far behind her, though he fought to catch up when he noticed her laughing at him.

But neither of them were laughing when a pack of Sabertusks interrupted their path. Gladio hadn’t even summoned his broadsword when he saw something go flying, a purple glow following it. Amara warped from creature to creature, effectively dispatching each of them and serving to remind her companion of her abilities. She sent him another smirk before darting off towards the plateaus again, leaving him to follow.

“Remind me not to piss you off!”

“You need to be reminded of that?!” she cackled, launching off one foot to jump onto the large stone face and rebounding off it – right over Gladio’s head as he closed in on her. It threw him off guard, and she listened in amusement as he clearly slipped on his turn and hit the ground, but she didn’t dare turn around to check on him. Amara went ahead and warped herself over the road this time, laughing at her friend’s cry of ‘cheater’, pausing for a moment on the other side to make sure of where he was. His slip up had given her a comfortable lead that he was hurrying to close, sending her running once more when he reached the brush that lined the asphalt. Her lungs were burning as her breathing got heavier, but Gods damn it she was not about to lose her own challenge.

The others may have been fast, but she knew Gladio’s training had given him the stamina to keep up with her own. He was a Shield, he had to hold out, she was a Glaive, she had to move fast through unfamiliar terrain while taking on fucking armies. No way in Ifrit’s hell was she about to lose to the man.

Opting to use her surefootedness against him on the uneven terrain around the Haven, Amara started leaping from highpoint to highpoint, keeping him several feet behind as he tried to make sure his weight didn’t play against him as she was trying to make it do. Ignis and Prompto were waiting at its edge: Ignis sipping on a cup of coffee while the younger man cheered for Amara. She risked a glance back at the shield before losing a summoned blade and warping herself up onto the campsite, though this time her fatigue caught up to her and her landing sent her tumbling across the stone. She came to a stop inches from the folding chairs, her sides heaving as she laughed, though it was choked by her lungs’ fight for air. Gladio snarled at her when he reached them, plopping so heavily into a chair she was surprised it didn’t break under him.

“Never again.”

Prompto’s laughter mixed with her own as he helped her up. Ignis was soon handing each of them a cup of coffee before going to wake up the sleeping noble. The sight of him was enough to make the weight of the day’s task suddenly land back the Glaive’s shoulders, and she gave him a small smile as he came to sit by his Shield. A moment later Ignis was bringing them breakfast and motioning for Amara to take the last chair. She shook her head, sitting down on the stone with her legs crossed under her, though it didn’t last long with the armor digging into her thighs. Knowing there was no swaying her, the group simply ate in silence, with Gladio and Ignis finishing first and beginning to pack up. With the younger trio taking a few minutes longer Amara felt like the atmosphere was becoming more and more charged – and several of her scars from using Regis’s magic throbbed in response to the feeling.

“We need to be careful today.” She finally spoke and felt everybody’s eyes on her before she ever looked up from her tray. “Something’s going to happen.”

“You got some kind of sixth sense or something?” Gladio frowned at her from where he was folding up the tent, earning a nod in reply.

“As a Glaive, I learned very quickly to “read the air” as one of the guys called it.” She made no move to explain what she meant, but the weight behind her words seemed almost equal to what was already resting on everyone’s shoulders. It made everything pick up the pace (at least a little), so they were soon re-stuffing everything in the Regalia’s trunk and amazing the woman with the expert packing that made it all actually fit. As soon as she retrieved her new motorcycle from Cindy - free of charge, much to the boy’s chagrin – they were taking off for the outpost Cor had left instructions to head to.

She had been able to study the map they had been given – comparing it to the one she had found in her previous ride’s glove box, so once they were all safely on the road she took the first chance she got to whip around them, taking the lead as they rumbled down the road, though Ignis’s cursing when he had to hit the brakes only a few miles down the road caught her ear quite easily.

“Amara Solis what in the name of-“

“Shut up!” she snarled from where she sat on her bike ahead of the suddenly tense men. “Hello?”

“Hello?! Is anyone there?! Help!” the voice was close, just a few yards behind them. The woman whipped her bike around and raced towards the dirt road they had just passed, though she pulled off when she reached the rocks just before it. They watched from where they were stopped as she helped a man, a hunter they figured, up from the rocks – noticing the glow from a potion she used on him. The woman took a minute to make sure he was okay and waved down a man in a hideously colored truck that was coming down the dirt road beside them. Only when the hunter was safely in the bed of it did she remount her bike and race back to her friends.

“He said he was part of a group that got scattered. Try to keep your ears out while we’re in the area in case they’re still out here.”

“How did you even hear him?” Prompto was clearly concerned (and a little impressed going by the look on his face).

“I was trained to listen to my surroundings. It there really are masses of Imperials after you guys – you’ll learn to do the same very quickly.” It was more of a warning than advice, they figured, so they watched her take the lead once more and followed decent distance just in case they did discover another injured hunter that had managed to survive in the wilderness.

And they did: a young woman was found in the ruins of some old buildings a few feet off the road – she had been poisoned, they realized, when Amara came back to them to ask for an antidote. This hunter followed Amara back to her bike and climbed on behind her, holding tight to the red-haired woman as she took off once more.

Thankfully there were no other hapless persons to be found, and they arrived at Prairie Outpost without further incident. The female hunter bid the group thanks, and a generous amount of Gil, before taking off to speak with some fellow hunters, though her place was soon taken by a familiar woman.

“Monica? Hey!” Amara gave the older Crownsguard member a hug and a smile when she joined her, which was happily returned.

“Amara I’m glad you’re safe. When we heard about the Glaive, we were concerned…” the brunette shook her head. “But the Marshall was adamant that you’d be alright.”

“Alright and back on duty.” She motioned to the guys, who had parked the Regalia some several feet away. Monica immediately bowed and gave them a smile when she returned to standing.

“I’m glad you're safe, your highness.”

“Monica, where are all the others?” Gladiolus was clearly worried about the fate of his fellow Guards, as was Amara and Ignis, and looks on their faces made Monica’s turn grim.

“Most of the Crownsguard didn’t make it. It was all we could do to escort Lady Iris out of the city. Dustin’s with her as we speak, seeing her the rest of the way to Lestallum.”

Gladio looked away. “I owe you guys big time.”

Monica shook her head and returned her gaze to the Prince. “Head for the tomb. The Marshall awaits.”

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thedarklordmegatron · 6 years ago

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Cor/Regis pretty please

I’ve never really considered this ship before but now I have I’m in love! They work so well!!!! @kay-mika I’m sorry this didn’t go up yesterday, but I hope this is okay!

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you

who hogs the duvet

It’s all out war between them every evening. After accidentally tearing one duvet and spending an hour laughing over it, they both agreed on buying two separate duvets. That being said, despite having one each, someone still ends up shivering at 3 o’clock in the morning because the other decided he needs two duvets to sleep!

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Whenever he has a spare moment Regis likes to drop Cor a text, trying to find out how his day is going and more importantly if he’s insulted and/or maimed any Councillors/Nobles since he saw him last.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Regis comes up with the best gifts. Cor’s never really been one for material goods, though he won’t say no to some fluffy socks and warm jumpers (He can’t stand being cold, for reasons he’s never told Regis). So naturally Regis takes this as a challenge. It started during their roadtrip and has carried on ever since, some years he’s successful and others are complete failures - not that Cor ever tells him, but Regis knows.

One of his most creative and emotional gifts came in the form of a single brown envelope. From a very young age Cor has wondered about his parents, unable to remember them beyond the colour of their hair. It had taken years of research and far too much money, but he’d tracked them down - or at least, his staff had. He’d accompanied Cor to the graveyard the same afternoon and held him that evening as he cried.

who gets up first in the morning

Cor is always the first one up. He doesn’t even need an alarm, years of conditioning mean he can’t physically sleep in past 7am at the very latest. While Regis sleeps, he’ll stroll around the apartments, cleaning up any remaining messes from the evening before and preparing breakfast. Three mugs of coffee, one for himself and two for Regis, alongside various fresh fruits and yogurts. The smell of the coffee is usually enough to draw the King out of his bed, even if he does look half-dead.

who suggests new things in bed

Surprisingly enough, or perhaps not, Cor is anything but vanilla in bed. The first time Regis discovered this side of him, he nearly had a heart attack from the shock rather than anything else. Not that he’s complaining. Most of the time Cor will suggest things when their either eating dinner or reading before going to sleep - either way, he always does it with a straight face as though they were discussing reports.

who cries at movies

It depends on the film! Regis is most likely to blubber when something emotional happens, especially if it concerns children, but Cor has been known to cry at certain films. Most of the time it’s war films that get to him, most hitting far too close to home, however if it involves an animal dying or going missing you can bet there’ll be tears in his eyes.

who gives unprompted massages

Cor is the King of unprompted massages. Regis will be relaxing on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him while he reads or watches the TV, when Cor will appear out of nowhere. He carefully shifts Regis’ legs out of the way before sliding onto the couch, pulling his legs into his lap and carefully massaging his right leg. He’s well aware of how much pain Regis is in daily and takes pleasure in helping him however he can, even if it’s something as simple as a leg massage.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

It’s not often that Cor gets ill, he has a pretty impressive immune system, but when he does get ill it’s usually something very serious. Most of the time ending up with him in the infirmary for a week or so. When this happens Regis will send as many hours as possible by his bedside, waving away Clarus and the doctors when they try to get him to go back to his apartments - if only for a shower. Even once Cor is deemed healthy enough to go home, Regis is constantly hovering around him, watching for any signs of a potential relapse. Cor was once forced to climb out of the kitchen window and scale the side of the Citadel to escape Regis’ watchful gaze.

who gets jealous easiest

He’ll deny it if anyone ever points it out, but Cor gets insanely jealous, not that many people actively flirt with the King of Lucis. However, occasionally a noblewoman or man, will try their luck and if Clarus isn’t trying to usher them away, Cor will be there in a heartbeat. Hovering behind Regis and glaring at the offending party until they slink away.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

Regis has the absolute worst taste in music. Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of going through his CD collection or his music library will tell you that. Cor absolutely refuses to let him be the DJ when they’re driving, the last time he did he came away from the trip with ‘Spice Up Your Life’ stuck in his head for days.

who collects something unusual

Cor collects bottlecaps. He has a small chest full of them that’s he’s picked up in his travels. Whenever he returns from covert missions, Regis knows that there’ll be a small bag full of them tucked away somewhere. He isn’t one for proudly showing off his spoils, but he also won’t complain when Regis sits beside him while he sorts them out and checks for any doubles.

who takes the longest to get ready

Since becoming King Regis usually takes over an hour to get ready in the morning, even with Cor’s help. In the beginning it would take them forty minutes to get his regalia on, what with the frankly ridiculous number of layers. However as the years go on and the Ring takes its toll on his body, it takes him longer. There are times when they have to stop halfway through so he can catch his breathe and let his muscles rest for a moment, and when this happens Cor will kneel in front of him and massage the sore limbs until Regis feels strong enough again.

who is the most tidy and organised

Cor is an absolute clean freak, he cannot stand things being out of place and don’t get him started on dirty surfaces. Having spent most of his childhood living on the streets in permanent filth, desperately bundling up his meagre possessions in the corner of whatever alley he’d made his home that night, he refuses to allow himself to go back to that. Six knows how many things he’d lost by accidentally leaving them behind or losing them amongst the rubbish. As a result he loves having everything organised and in it’s place, knowing that if he needs it, it’ll still be there.

who gets most excited about the holidays

Regis is like a child when it comes to the holidays. It’s like he saves up his energy specifically for those few days. He goes all out on the decorations. The Citadel might have a light dusting of festive cheer, but their apartments is another thing entirely. It’s like Regis bought an entire store’s worth of decorations and was determined to use absolutely everything, including the confetti on the table. Birthdays? Confetti. Shiva’s Day? Confetti. Astrals Eve? So. much. damn. confetti. It gets everywhere and he honestly hates it but he’ll accept it if it makes Regis happy.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

They switch on a regular basis. It depends on who wants what that night. Most of the time however, Regis enjoys being the little spoon.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Cor hates losing. No, he detests it. Even when playing a simple child’s game with the Prince and his friends, he refuses to go easy on them. Regis gave up on attempting to get him to loosen up years ago.

who starts the most arguments

It’s not often that they argue, but when they do it gets nasty. Regis is the one to start the majority of the arguments, primarily because he’s so concerned over how willingly Cor puts himself in danger. He loves his partner and couldn’t imagine his life without him, but sometimes he wants nothing more than to slap some sense into him. Cor, of course, takes offence at being told he’s reckless and defends himself which just continues to get nastier until Clarus or whatever Guard is on duty is forced to physically separate them.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Regis mentions it every now and then, hinting that a cat or dog might be good company for him when Cor’s away on missions, but nothing ever comes from it. They’re just suggestions because while both would like a pet, Cor having had a pet rat when he was younger (his only friend), they know it’s not a feasible idea. They work too much and would hardly have the time to give an animal the attention and love it would need.

what couple traditions they have

Every Thursday without fail, so long as Cor is actually in Insomnia, they’ll finish work by 5pm at the very latest - claiming important meetings - and meet back at home. Most of the time Cor will already be there, dressed in his comfiest sweatpants and baggiest t-shirt, preparing dinner. Regis will shuffle into the bedroom and slip on his pyjamas before joining Cor. They’ll finish up cooking and retreat to the couch with their plates and glasses of wine. While Regis settles himself on the couch, Cor will close up the curtains. Once all that’s out of the way, they’ll pick a TV series to binge and spend the rest of the evening there.

what tv shows they watch together

The Secret Lives of Glaives - A parody show about what the Kingsglaive get up to in their spare time. Though if Cor’s face is anything to go by, not all of the stories are made up.

Chocobos, Green and Chicks Oh My! - A documentary on every day life at Wiz’s Chocobo Ranch. They’d been there once in their youth and ever since then Regis has loved the birds, and if Cor’s completely honest with himself he does love watching the Chicks grow up.

There’s a tonne of other tv shows they binge regularly, but those are their favourite two.

what other couple they hang out with

There literally are no other couples they can ‘hang out’ with. The closest they ever get to it is formal dinners with other nobles, though Cor will often wriggle his way out of those.

how they spend time together as a couple

Outside of their official duties, they love just lazing around together. There’s always so much pressure on their shoulders that it’s nice to just do nothing, be it cuddling or attempting the 5000 piece puzzle Noctis bought Regis two birthday’s ago. (Cor swears that the thing is evil and the pieces are cursed)

who made the first move

It was actually Cor who made the first move. It took him a while to realise that Regis was subtly flirting with him, and that the platonic hugs lasted a little longer than those shared between friends. Finally, with a promise for Clarus to give them an hour alone during the New Years Celebrations, Cor makes his move. He and Regis were quietly talking on the Royal Balcony attached to the Ballroom when Clarus shut the doors. Regis had been confused by the action until Cor had grabbed hold of his face and said ‘You can fire me afterwards if you don’t feel the same’ before kissing him. Needless to say no one was fired and neither man spent the evening alone.

who brings flowers home

Regis brings all sorts of flowers to Cor. Sometimes he’ll collect bouquets from the Citadel’s gardens, the gardeners helping him select one that conveys love and affection while also looking visual appealing. Other times he’ll convince Clarus or his guard for the day to sneak him out to the nearest Florist.

The owner has long since gotten used to the King showing up out of the blue and makes sure to take him into the back room to keep him hidden from any passing customers. Regis loves his trips there because of the various smells and the general pleasant feeling he gets being surrounded by so many flowers. These bouquets are always larger than those from the gardens, and are filled with bright colours with a Lily or two hidden amongst the others - they’re Cor’s favourites. Each bouquet brings a smile to Cor’s face and takes pride of place in the centre of their living room until the last bloom dies.

who is the best cook

Cor is by far the best cook! He loves experimenting with different food combinations and coming up with some recipes of his own. Regis is always happy to try his creations, often perching himself on one of the stools in the kitchen in order to watch him work. (And if he gets to nom on the extras while Cor is cooking then that’s just a bonus!)

#Greycloak army #regis lucis caelum #cor leonis #regis x cor #regcor #corgis #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #headcanons #The meme things strike again #I LOVE THESE TWO #THANK YOU FOR INTRODUCING ME TO THEM

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robininthelabyrinth · 7 years ago

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Fic: Nocturne (10/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen (variety later to come)

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes’ ‘taur AU)

—————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————

Less than a month to go until their first major expedition to try to establish a Covenant with an Astral, and they’ve started climbing the walls.

Literally.

Well, sort of.

“It’s okay,” Regis calls, doing his utmost best to keep from laughing. It would only offend the poor child’s dignity.

“It is not!” said poor child shrieks, clinging to the cliff.

Prompto came to fetch Regis immediately when it happened, of course, and Noctis and Gladio are milling anxiously underneath the sheer cliff face where poor Ignis is trapped about halfway up.

“How did this happen?” Regis asks.

They’re at their favorite fishing hole – well, Regis’ and Noctis’, anyway, since the other boys tend to get bored fishing and run off to play with each other nearby while Regis teaches Noctis how to fish properly. This place is inside one of Insomnia’s parks, within the safety of the Wall that glimmers above them in the sky, but isolated enough that most people don’t think to come here. Regis loves it, and comes whenever the business of ruling can spare him. Especially now that Noctis is finally old enough to really appreciate the more sedate joys of fishing – the preparation, the casting, the wait, the capture.

They were sitting by the water, waiting patiently, when Prompto ran up in a frenzy to explain that Ignis had gotten stuck, somehow, on the near-sheer cliff face by the side of the park.

“Well?” Regis prompts when nobody answers. He’s the only one out with the children today, since this visit is within the Wall. Yes, there’s a few Crownsguard in civilian dress lingering in nearby coffee shops and admiring the botanical gardens not far away, but Cor’s trained them well: it’s subtle enough that Regis can pretend they’re alone. “What happened? How did Ignis even get up that far?”

“Well,” Gladio says, looking sheepish. “Um…”

“Gladio was saying that no one could climb the sheer cliff face and Ignis explained that ibexes can climb sheer cliff faces and Gladio asked if Ignis could and Ignis wasn’t sure and then Gladio dared him,” Prompto says all in a rush. “And so Ignis decided to go up and then he got stuck.”

Regis presses his lips together. He will not laugh. He will not laugh.

“And you never,” he says, then cleared this throat, “you never considered that there might be a difference in training for ibex ‘taurs in the mountains and ones that live in the city?”

Ignis’ glare could have caused blisters.

“He did get halfway up?” Gladio offers.

“Yes,” Regis says dryly. “However, I remember several trees where you successfully got all the way up, young Gladio. The problem was always with coming down.”

“I know this is extremely uncharacteristic of me to say,” Ignis says from his perch. “But I would appreciate less discussion of this subject and more activity aimed at resolving it. Specifically, activity geared towards getting me down.”

“Well, my boy,” Regis says, looking up at him. “As far as I’m concerned, there are only three options: one, we call the fire department and get them to bring ladders –”

“Certainly not!” Ignis yelps.

“Two, we ask the Crownsguard spying on us to come and try to see if any of them can lasso you down –”

“No!”

“Or you could jump,” Regis concludes.

“I’ll break my legs!” Ignis brays, looking distressed.

“No, no,” Regis says soothingly. “Jump to me, and I’ll catch you.”

“Are you sure?”

“If necessary, I will catch you with magic,” Regis promises. Sure, he doesn’t keep that much in practice any more, but he’s pretty sure he could warp to Ignis mid-air if he needed to.

Honestly, he could probably warp to Ignis now, but then he’d be holding onto Ignis some eighteen feet in the air with nothing to put his paws on, and that seems like a bad idea.

Ditto the idea of summoning a sword and using that as his warp object. He doesn’t trust his aim after all these years.

...maybe Cor is right and he should get back into training more often. It's just that he's so busy all the time...

Ignis is clearly considering his options: total humiliation, nearly total humiliation, or jumping.

“Okay,” he finally says. “I’ll try jumping.”

“You can do it!” Gladio calls up.

“You don’t get to say a word,” Ignis says crossly. “You I’m going to deal with when I get down again.”

“It was just a dare! You didn’t have to do it!”

“You’re just digging yourself in deeper, my boy,” Regis advises Gladio. “If I were you, I'd stop now.”

Gladio subsides, pouting.

“All right,” Regis calls up. “On three, yes? One – two – three!”

Ignis leaps.

Regis catches him.

He gets a flailing hoof in the gut for his trouble, but he does catch him.

He puts Ignis down. “Now, next time –”

“Don’t take any of Gladio’s stupid dares,” Ignis says. “Yes, sir. Now as for you –”

And he’s off like a shot, Gladio already leaping away as fast as his paws can take him which is fairly quick but not quite as quick as his furious pursuer.

Prompto is laughing and barking and clapping, running circles around the two of them.

Noctis is shaking his head. “They’re silly,” he declares, but he’s smiling.

“Indeed they are,” Regis says. “They could’ve been with us, fishing.”

“Nuh-uh,” Noctis says. “I told them to go away. Fishing is for us.”

Regis is surprised into a laugh. He hadn’t realized it was intentional on Noctis’ part.

He puts his hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “Yes,” he says warmly. “Yes, it is. Now, shall we see if we’ve gotten a bite?”

Noctis beams at him and puts his hand in Regis’.

If only they could stay this way forever, Regis thinks to himself. If only Noctis hadn’t been the Chosen King of the Prophecy –

There’s nothing for it, Regis reminds himself. It is what it is, and all the ‘if only’s in the world won’t change that. All there is to do is to make the best of the time they have.

They walk back to the pond, hand-in-hand.

It's nearly midsummer.

Midsummer: the day of the great Hydread Festival, held in honor of the fearsome Tidemother who sleeps beneath the waves. The day when each window in Insomnia Port is hung with water-chimes, the fountains are decorated with lights, and thousands and thousands of paper boats are released into the waves – a sacrifice of paper into the maw of Leviathan in the place of the real boats she used to demand.

All in all, a perfect excuse for the King of Lucis and his family to go all together to Insomnia Port, the nearest portion of Lucis to the islands of Galadh beyond.

No one would know about their real destination until it was too late to stop it – Cor hasn't even told Drautos, who is stepping in to help command the Crownsguard in Cor's absence, that anything is going on beyond a simple visit to the Port for the holiday. If anything, he's made a few comments about Regis wanting to show his son the traditions of his kingdom, and implied that he's being dragged along as the guardian of Prince Noctis' best friend, just the same way he's been doing with anybody else who's been left out of the loop.

It's nothing personal – oh, all right, it is a little personal; Cor would've preferred to leave the Crownsguard in Monica's hands, or Riyad's, or Tempus', or even, Six help them all, Gloriana, good reliable soldiers all. But Captain Drautos came very highly recommended from the countryside, where he'd achieved some significant (if unfortunately temporary) victories with nothing more impressive than the local militia, and he'd won the favor of a number of the more conservative Councilors with his work policing the inside of Insomnia.

Cor personally feels that Drautos' hand falls too harshly on the populace, dragging in violators or even suspected violators of the laws on fairly minimal provocation, but his law and order rhetoric and personal charisma are appealing to certain conservatives, while his heritage as an immigrant refugee himself makes more progressive Councilors listen more readily than they might have if it was just another Insomnia native saying the same old thing.

In fairness, Cor is also more inclined to listen to him on those grounds, being Insomnia-born himself and thereby not having the insight that might be offered by consulting an outsider. He's aware of that weakness, and he's tried to recruit Crownsguard from the outside where he can, but Drautos is easily the most highly accomplished non-Insomnian they have. Cor should really make an effort to listen more to his suggestions, and to involve him in his planning and operations.

But damn if he just plain old doesn't like the hyena ‘taur.

It's not even a matter of safety – Drautos has been so thoroughly cleared by Insomnia's intelligence division that suspicion is essentially useless, given the fact that no one would believe Cor if he made any accusations, even if he were the sort of 'taur inclined to trade on baseless rumors, which he is not. It's honestly just a personal distaste, backed with no rational reason whatsoever.

Cor has had years to train himself to be a proper professional who can work with people he dislikes and he's gotten quite good at it (whatever Clarus might say about his work in the Council where, at the very least, Drautos is not), so he's determined not to let it affect his relationship with the other 'taur. He's going to act to Drautos, sharing information and work and relying on his skills, just as efficiently and effectively as he would if he did trust Drautos.

....soon.

Really.

He swears.

Regardless, it's not like it matters this time around. Not knowing about their real target is unlikely to affect Drautos' command of the Crownsguard in Cor's absence, and Cor himself will be personally leading the Crownsguard delegation that will take the royal family to Galadh, so he's not too concerned about the omission.

No, Cor's focus now must be entirely on the upcoming voyage. He's sent Riyad ahead to obtain a vessel – it has to be Riyad, with his extended family and knowledge of childcare, to keep up the ruse – under the pretense of making sure it's safe for a short pleasure cruise, should Regis' whim require it, and he's assigned whatever Crownsguard members know how to sail a ship or can quickly learn how to help crew it.

Riyad finally called in and reported success – the ship he obtained would be more than capable of making the journey to Galadh – and that means it's time for the whole lumbering Procession to go: not just Regis and Clarus and Scientia and their families, plus a Crownsguard escort, but all the staff that are popularly seen as necessary, like cooks and servants and valets and chauffeurs and whatnot that Cor scarcely realized the largely self-sufficient Regis even had.

Titan's horns, Cor's glad they'll be mostly left behind to enjoy the holiday at Insomnia Port.

"You ready to go?" he asks Aulea.

"I've been ready to go for three weeks," she says waspishly. "You know, I've never thought I'd be nostalgic about working as a temporary sailor in exchange for passage on an illicit Niflheim steamer, but this whole ridiculous rigmarole is starting to do it."

"You ready?" Cor asks Regis, who looks up from his paperwork with a slight 'o' to his mouth, like he's totally forgotten what day, week, month and possibly even year it is.

"He's ready," Clarus says, rubbing his eyes from his place at Regis' side. "Aulea has been in charge of preparations – do you know that she used to be patient about these things? I blame you and your sea voyage –"

Cor smirks and moves on. He doesn't bother asking Scientia if she's ready – she's been sending paralegals ahead of her to ensure the Insomnia Port branch of her law firm has an office ready for her use for ten days already.

Instead, he pokes his head into Luna's room. "Ready to go?" he asks Luna and the children, who appear to be dressing Noctis up in some sort of vile green dress with feathers, with a similarly colorful make-up palette.

"Yes!" they all shout, except for Noctis, who tries to shout and trips over his own hem in the process.

Cor doesn't want to know – first, because he thinks he might recognize that dress from the bottomless pits of Cyrella's closet, some sort of old bridesmaid business, and second, because he thinks they might be attempting to create some sort of ballgown version of Kenny Crow.

He really doesn't want to know.

"Meet me at the elevator in twenty minutes," he says instead. "I'll take you to lunch while everyone else gets ready."

They all rush off.

"Oh, and Noctis?" Cor added, casually sticking out a paw to block Noctis' way.

"Yeah, Marshal?"

"Wash your face first. If you want to wear make-up to your next public event, you need to get your mother to do it for you, not your friends."

“Right!”

Cyrella, who Cor informed first and foremost, is rounding up what staff hasn't been sent ahead to go. She’s not joining them, much to her irritation: her stomach is already starting to round with the (possibly) unexpected pregnancy of her second-born. Clarus was over the moon about it and her doctor is pleased with her health, all but for the morning sickness that has made her throw up every time she so much as scents something containing more spice than plain salt.

Not exactly the right time to go to spice-loving Galadh, to say the least, and her doctor was also rather alarmed by the idea of letting a breeding ‘taur with severe morning sickness go on a sea voyage, no matter how short.

So, instead, Cyrella is running herd on the staff – and, as a result, Cor has never had an easier time getting people moving.

Really, he should consider finding an extremely tall, extremely irritated pregnant 'taur who hasn't eaten properly in a month to get people ready every time he travels - no one, not even the usual suspects, has made so much as a squeak of protest. If anything, they all seem to find the idea of getting far away from Cyrella's grasp to be extremely enticing...

They'll all be divided into their own cars, all the staff, forming a convoy for the royal family – of course, Cor has no intention of letting the entire royal family travel together for something this public, and he has (reluctantly) agreed with Clarus that Clarus can handle the protection of Regis and Aulea. With the assistance of some Crownsguard, of course.

Cor, in turn, will be driving the children, and he prefers to do that after they've finished their lunch.

He picks a restaurant fairly far off from the Citadel in the direction of the Port to give them a nice head start, though. An hour or so in the car weaving through city streets with hungry children, and then the next few hours traveling through the countryside with the full, sated and hopefully sleepy versions...

Unfortunately, this excellent plan is derailed by the fact that everyone is extremely excited about their first visit to Galadh, and therefore not even a good meal can make them sleepy and quiet.

No, instead, Cor gets –

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"I wanna play a car game!"

"Go ahead."

"Hey, look at that!"

"Get your head back into the car."

"Can we change the music?"

"Fine."

"Are we there yet?"

"Still no."

"What car game should we play?"

"You decide."

"Can we change the music?"

"Fine."

"Look! A coeurl!"

"That is not a coeurl. It's a bush. Please all get your heads back inside the car."

"Are we there yet?"

"Not since the last time you asked."

"Cor, I wanna play Animal-Plant-Black-and-White and he wants to play I Spy -"

"Take turns."

"Is it much longer till we get there?"

"Changing the form of the question will not get you a different answer."

"Guys! Cactaur!"

"That's a cactus."

"Can we change the music?"

"No. The music remains the same forever now."

"Are we there –"

"The next person to ask if we are there yet, how long until we arrive, makes another comment about the music, or asks me to arbitrate anything will not receive a bedtime story from me tonight," Cor says pleasantly.

Ah, blissful silence.

For about five seconds.

"I spy something – black."

"The Marshal's mood, perhaps?"

Snarky brats.

Cor hides a smile and keeps driving.

Of course, the sad drooping expressions are enough to make him relent and lift the prohibition on questions after another half-hour or so, but they manage, somehow, to make it to Insomnia Port without anyone (primarily Cor) committing infanticide.

He loves all the boys dearly, he's even starting to be fond of Luna, but sometimes...

Luckily, Insomnia Port dressed up for the Hydread puts a rapid end to the inane questioning. The normally quiet city – more of a town, compared to the Capital – is festooned in blue sashes and ringing with the tinkling sounds of wind chimes, hanging at every window. Children and even adults run through the streets wearing the traditional blue 'Hydra Head' cowls on their heads – caps in the shape of the Leviathan's draconic-seeming main head or of her watery "heads" of legend – laughing as they throw out blue-wrapped treats to all the passerby.

The warmth of summer is more intense here; nothing like the islands of Galadh, renowned for their hot weather and hotter food, of course, but hot enough to make the children unhappy that they're wearing their formal wear, even if said formal wear is the summerweight version.

"We'll change after we arrive in Galadh," Cor promises. "You need to be impressive to the crowd for a bit, and then T-shirts for everyone."

Noctis sighs, already accustomed to public events, and Luna is nodding, too, but Gladio, Ignis and Prompto are not so easily appeased. Ignis, at least, has the self-discipline to stop complaining out loud, but Cor can see his pout.

Time for a distraction.

"If you look to your right, you'll see the sea-ships in the harbor," Cor says.

Everyone promptly crowds over there, complaints forgotten.

"There's so many of them," Luna marvels. "It's like the pictures of Altissia!"

"More, actually," Ignis says, nose pressed up against the window pane. "Altissia is the larger harbor, and serves as the port of call for more sea-ships, but due to the way it was built inside a lagoon, they prefer not to let sea-ships get too close. They make them dock some way out – you can't see them all together like this."

"Wooooow," Prompto says.

"It's so awesome," Noctis agrees.

"Marshal, what has more ships – Insomnia Port, or the Lucian Airstrip in Tempius?"

"The Port," Cor replies. "Virtually all of our remaining airships are government owned, and they're rarely used. The Port, in contrast, has warships and merchant ships and pleasure craft and much more."

"Cool."

"But Niflheim has more ships overall, doesn't it?" Ignis asks.

"More airships, yes," Cor corrects. "Their airstrips are in vast, empty fields, with gigantic ships lying there in rows. But Niflheim started as a landlocked mountain realm, and to this day they far prefer airships to sea-ships."

The children ooh and aah.

“Look again now,” Cor suggests as he makes another turn, aiming for the harbor. “We’ll be passing a look-out point over the harbor-port – you should be able to see the boxes and boxes of the paper boats that will be released at midday on midsummer.”

More oohing and aahing ensues.

"I must say I'm excited to see Galadh," Luna says. "They're exclusively Lucian territory, but their community in Insomnia is quite small, I believe..?"

"They haven't been invaded - yet," Cor says dryly. "As a result, they have fewer refugees in Insomnia. We rather hope it stays that way."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose that's true."

"It's been years since I've had reason to go to the Galadh proper," Cor adds. "But I remember it fondly enough."

"You talk like you're old," Prompto complains.

"According to you, I am old."

"Nuh-uh!" Noctis exclaims. "Dad says you're like half his age."

"I'm only ten years younger," Cor says firmly. Maybe a dozen. He's always taken great care never to calculate exactly.

"Ten whole years?" Gladio marvels. "Wow. You're like a baby."

Cor sighs.

It’s bad enough that people who don't recognize him on sight when he's out walking with the children like to compliment him on caring for his "younger brothers". Now his own children are doing it...

The sailing time to Galadh might not be that considerable, but this is still going to be a long trip.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #regis lucis caelum #cor leonis #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #lunafreya nox fleuret #aulea lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #cyrella amicitia #my fic

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goddessofroyalty · 7 years ago

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I've got a fic idea that I'll never write: Cor guards Regis' dad Mors, for 3 years, 15-18. At the end of it, Mors gets Cor pregnant (coercion is involved) but Mors dies before anyone knows. Of course later Cor finds out and he has no idea what to do? You've got all the other things as well as the fact it's royalty and there's only one living member of royalty rn and that's an issue. So Cor tells Regis about it. They then tell Clarus and Aurlae (Regis wife) and it's decided: Cor keeps the baby and is sent on a top secret mission (hiding) until the baby is born. He's called Noctis :). And passed off as Regis and Aurlae's. Canon happens until Noctis is 16 and then Regis and Noctis have a very awkward conversation where it comes out that Regis is actually his half-brother, not his dad. Regis is still his dad though, but now he makes time for his /other dad/ Cor. Of course no one knows about this, not even Iggy, and cor is just officially on guard duty for the prince. (It's weird thought to think that technically Cor outranked all the nobles other than Clarus, Gladio and the blood members of the royal family, because by having Noct he'd become a royal Duke - becoming a member of the royal family. Nobody knows this, and he's still high ranked as marshal. But he could have Crownsguard guard him but even before Noct made friends with him he'd known Cor would have hated it). And Noct and Cor become friends. I'll not sure if it's mpreg verse or ABO, but I'm leaning closer to abo

(they send it and asked me to make it anon)

So I’m actually going to split this into 2 and reply tot he parts separately just to stop it from becoming too wall-of-text (plus there’s a really neat split point *shrugs*)

Still ended up cutable long so...

I mean guarding the old King is probably a pretty good job for the final bit of training a guard. It’s not like the King will be going anywhere that dangerous considering his age and there are plenty of other guards around the Citidel should something come up. Good experience in guarding royalty with enough pressure to break rookies of fuck-ups without as much risk assuming there are other guards to catch the slip-ups. In Cor’s case, Mors is also probably a bit insistent that he guard him and it’s not like anyone can exactly argue with the King once he’s set his mind to something.

Look, Mors probably knows he is close to death. So it’s not like there is really any long-term damage for him should he coerce his guard into his bed. Depending on how brave Cor is the fact that it happened at all might not get out at all, and certainly there is a fair chance it won’t get out (/won’t have people believe it) until after Mors is dead. And by that point Mors is dead himself, so nothing can really happen to him! I don’t think he was actually trying to get Cor pregnant but I also don’t think he’s actively attempting to prevent it. If Cor does end up pregnant and the child becomes a challenger for the throne (either because of Cor’s own actions or challenging it when older) that’s Regis’ problem. Mors providing at least one heir to ensure the line secure, that’s all he has to care about possible succession crises.

Of course Mors doesn’t realise/consider how loyal Cor is to the crown (or perhaps he does know, doesn’t matter - he’s dead). So Cor goes fairly immediately to Regis and confesses the situation he’s in when he finds out and basically asks Regis how he would like to move ahead. The child may be o royal blood but Cor is aware Regis is the current King so wants to deal with it how Regis thinks is best.

Regis likely has at least the briefest of freak outs because his father impregnated one of his guards. This freakout is honestly probably how Clarus + Aurlae find out about it because Regis trusts them and goes to them for advice on how he should handle the situation.

Between the four of them they come up with a plan that they think both prevents what Mors did from becoming too public while also putting the child in the position that is their right by essence of being of the Royal-bloodline (also thre might be some side factor of Aurlae being infertile or other reason she might not want to have a child of her own, IDK).

And okay, they either have to send Aurlae with Cor or hide her away from the public completely while spinning a pregnancy narrative so that when the baby is born there’s no way to dispute the story that the child is Regis + Aurlae’s. Which means there is definitely a period of really stressful time where they are scared that some slip up will happen and someone will obtain evidence proving the child’s real parentage. Honestly the first few years of Nocti’s life is spend with everyone’s collective-breathe held that someone will release a photo or something to the news that will be enough to destroy that story. A fear that likely just decreases but never actually goes away. Not telling Noctis is part of what they believe to be necessary to keeping the secret.

When Noctis is 16 Regis figures he is old enough to be able to understand/deal with finding out what happened. Also old enough to be able to decide how he wants to deal with the truth (whether he wants to go public, get to know Cor in the different light, continue as is, etc). Of course the fact Noctis is 16 and somewhat mature does not make the conversation any less awkward/painful.

Regis probably does put some level of emphasis on the fact that their blood-position to each doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, Regis is Noctis’ father and he is very proud of him.

I feel like Noctis needs some time to think about it at first - I mean, it is A LOT to take in and consider. Like “completely throwing basis of identity and relationship to those close to him” A LOT. And I don’t think anyone would fault him for that.

When Noctis does come back he probably agrees that keeping it quiet is for the best, because even if Mors is long dead it’s probably not the best time to bring up “problematic things the royal family have done” when they’re the only really stronghold against the Empire. Also doing that would probably make people put pressure on Cor to take up the correct position he should hold and well... it’s probably pretty fucking clear that Cor isn’t one for the life of a royal and likes being Marshall - let’s just leave that be shall we?

So instead things continue very much as is. Just Noctis now spends a bit more time getting to know Cor with the knowledge that he’s his other parent as part of it. Which is kind of weird for the both of them because they’re relationship had been framed in the terms it had been for so long - Noctis only knowing Cor by his formal position, Cor acting like Noctis wasn’t actually his son. And now suddenly they feel like they need to act differently because Noctis now knows the truth and that’s... super weird?

Ignis probably picks up on Noctis suddenly seeming deep in thought about something. Noctis however completely refuses to tell him what it is.

Oh and as for mpreg or omegaverse? Honestly it doesn’t really matter for this idea, both work just as well.

#Final Fantasy XV #Final Fantasy mpreg #cor leonis #Noctis Lucis Caelum #regis lucis caelum #Final Fantasy #FFXV #Ramblings of the Goddess #Q and A with the Goddess #Anon question

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bgn846 · 4 years ago

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Satum Novum Epilogue FFXV Gladnis

<Previous Chapter 9

The feeling of euphoria at having caught the biggest fish ever was quickly starting to fade as Noct approached Ignis. His advisor appeared to be asleep and Noct was getting concerned he was unwell. Ignis was sprawled out under the shade in a deck chair and wasn’t responding to his name being called.

Kneeling beside his friend Noct shook Ignis’ shoulder a few times. Finally he groaned and pried an eye open. “Are we home yet?” he asked blearily.

“Wha? No uh we just started this fishing trip.” Noct responded with confusion. “Hey that’s not the point are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

Ignis hummed and rolled his head to better look at Noct. “Why wouldn’t I be? We are on vacation remember?”

“Yeah I know, but like you were sleeping in the middle of the day. You never do that.” Noct offered as he wrung his hands. “I mean the doctor said you were good right? You’d tell us if you weren’t feeling well wouldn’t you?”

Ignis furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. “Noct, I’m merely relaxing. There is nothing to fear.”

Before Noct had a chance to question his advisor further Gladio rounded the corner with his catch. “Iggy babe, check it out. Look at what the prince just caught!” He enthused holding up the massive fish.

“That will make a wonderful dinner tonight.” Ignis smiled as he turned over slightly.

“I’m gonna go put it in the hold so it’ll stay fresh. Noct do you wanna try for some more?” Gladio asked as he turned to leave.

“Whoa, wait. This is too much.” Noct blurted. “Ignis might be sick.” He added quickly.

That statement stopped Gladio in his tracks. “Uh – you sure about that.”

“Look at him! He was asleep! In the middle of the day!” Noct exclaimed. “I have never seen that.”

Ignis snorted and reached out to shove Noct in the shoulder. “Would you please believe me that I am in fact fine.” Raising his hand to silence Noct before he could interject Ignis tried again. “You’ve got a proper shield now, which means I can take small breaks here and there.”

Noct frowned at the idea but realized Ignis had a point. Ever since Gladio had been appointed his new shield a few months ago things had changed. Ignis appeared less haggard looking and had been able to offload some of his duties to Gladio. “You’d tell me otherwise, right?”

“Of course highness, now go enjoy yourself and fish.”

Noct had no choice but to assume things were fine when he saw Gladio give Ignis a dopey love sick grin. They had already moved in together so Gladio would know if Ignis was sick or not. Huffing he stood up and glanced once more at his advisor. Ignis laughed at him and readjusted his pillow.

Prompto’s voice rang out a second later. “Noct your other line is twitching, you better come check it!”

Ignis extended his leg and lightly shoved Noct away. “Go, let me enjoy the sea air. If you remember the last time I was on a boat I didn’t get to relax.”

Memories of what had happened made Noct feel slightly emotional. Without warning he plopped down on the lounger to give Ignis a hug. His friend immediately hugged him back and they stayed like that for a moment.

The sound of pounding footsteps caused Noct to pull away. Prompto came into view and was very excited. “Dude, your line! I think it’s another big one.” He was waving frantically in the direction of his poles. Noct yelped when he felt a pinch to his arm.

Ignis was smiling at him. “Go, I’m going to take another nap.”

Feeling better about the situation Noct got up and followed Prompto. This was turning out to be the best fishing trip he’d ever been on.

Ignis became aware of his body being gently lifted. Opening his eyes revealed Gladio carefully picking him up from the deck chair. “Wha’s go’n on?” he mumbled, not fully coherent.

“It’s starting to rain so I’m moving you inside. Relax I gotcha.” Gladio hummed as he continued on with his task.

Opting to wrap his arms around Gladio’s neck Ignis tried to focus on waking up. Spending the better part of the afternoon napping had been a nice treat. Originally opposed to going out on yet another fishing trip, Ignis had been pleasantly surprised with how this one was going. No back stabbing traitors were on board this time so they were all safe.

Drautos was currently in prison with no chance of parole with several other glaives that had turned coat. The trial had been fast and Ignis had easily given his testimony when the time came. Describing the events that had occurred had been exhausting but necessary.

Gladio had been there to support him through the whole process. Ignis was grateful their relationship was growing. It’d been three months since they’d all returned. The first week Gladio had fretted that he’d caused more damage than good by waiting too long to reach out.

Ignis had assured him that everything was alright. He understood Gladio’s reasoning. The man didn’t want to tear his already broken family apart even more than it was already. In the end it had taken a visit from Clarus to reassure his son that he wasn’t abandoning Iris. She’d already been secretly planning to visit Insomnia to try and get an apartment. When Ignis had a chance to talk with the younger girl it became evident that Gladio’s behavior had taken a turn for the worse. He was clearly unhappy and conflicted about how to solve the problem.

In the end Prompto had been the first to take action. The blond had admitted that seeing him so sad was too much to handle. He’d left and immediately gone to talk to Clarus. The two of them had stormed the cottage in Altissa to tell Gladio what was going on.

Ignis didn’t think he would ever forget the feeling of relief that had flooded his senses when he’d opened the training room door that day. Seeing Gladio standing there with intentions to stay made his heart soar. They’d only technically been apart for five days but it had felt like a lifetime.

Everything after that fell into place naturally. Iris moved into the city and opted to live with her father for a while. They were testing things out to see how it would work. Prompto had been doing great in crownsguard training and had qualified for free housing on the grounds. Though Ignis wasn’t sure how much time he actually spent there since he and Noct were always together.

The prince had recovered well and was enjoying having a new friend around. Ignis hadn’t seen him smile this much in a long time. It had taken a little convincing on Noct’s part to get the king to agree to another trip for the four of them. Eventually Regis signed off and they had all selected a date.

The memory of the fish Noct had already caught came back to Ignis. He was already forming a plan on how to cook it later.

Gladio’s voice broke his train of thought after a moment. “Hey whatcha thinking about?”

“Oh nothing in particular.” Ignis replied, “I’m merely enjoying the ride and looking forward to dinner.”

Gladio snorted as he placed Ignis on the bench seat in the bridge. “Since you slept all afternoon do you think you’ll be able to stay up with me tonight while Noct does some night fishing?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Tapping his chin Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Which part, the night fishing or hanging out with me?”

Ignis rolled his eyes and hit Gladio in the arm. “You have to ask?” he shot back.

“I have to check ya know!”

“Astrals!” Ignis huffed as he grabbed Gladio’s shirt and tugged him down for a kiss. They didn’t stop until Noct suddenly appeared and shouted at them.

“You two are so gross; will you get a room or something?”

“Oh princess is right, we do have a room we could use.” Gladio supplied with wide eyes.

“NO! I didn’t mean like right now! Stop I was kidding!” He wailed.

The shouting had apparently caught Prompto’s attention and he was now standing in the door way. “What’d I miss?”

“They were making out, it was awful.” Noct groaned.

Prompto beamed at them and took a step forward to fist bump Gladio.

“You are not helping.” Noct droned as he glared at Prompto.

“Aww come on man they’re happy. Let em be, why don’t you help me put some of the stuff away on deck until the storm rolls over.”

Noct stared at Gladio as he followed Prompto out. “No more funny business.” He ordered as he left.

“Mnnn we have to follow Noct’s orders.” Ignis sighed.

“Whaaa?” Gladio exclaimed, “You don’t want to kiss anymore?”

“Of course I do. We just can’t have fun while doing it, we must be very serious.” He announced with blank stare. Ignis could tell that Gladio was trying not to laugh as he inched closer, and that is how they passed the rest of the evening. Good food, good company, and much to Noct’s dismay very serious kissing.

THE END Check out the fic on AO3 If you’d like. ;)

#ffxv #fanfic #gladnis #gladio #ignis

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aliatori · 7 years ago

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GladNyx and 4 for the ship meme ⊂(･ω･*⊂)

From the ship asks: First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

I’m answering this on mobile, so my apologies for no formatting! This is a great question, because in Artificial Gladio and Nyx’s first impressions of one another amounted to the same sentiment: “Wow, this guy really thinks he’s hot shit.”

Imagine, if you will, 16 year old Gladio walking into his first quantum phasing class at the Coalition’s military academy. Up until this point, the instructors had been pretty much what he expected-authoritarian, impeccable uniform dress, by the book, and very aware of the Amicitia last name.

And then there’s Nyx.

He’s sitting on the edge of the comp station at the front of the classroom, twirling his braid around a finger and looking bored out of his skull. He’s wearing his standard uniform instead of the formal one mandated for Academy instructors, and even then he’s only wearing the pants and boots, opting for a t-shirt instead of the actual top half. Once Gladio and the other students have filed in and wait at ease, Nyx starts talking.

“Look, I’ll be fucking straight with you newbies. 90 percent of you aren’t gonna be able to to do this at all, and half of you that can are gonna be so ass at it that you may as well not bother. I have a month to cram this lesson down as many green throats as possible before I get shipped back out, so let’s get this shitshow in the air.”

Gladio’s temper starts to rise at this irreverent speech. He might be a teenager, but you don’t get raised by Clarus Amicitia, personal bodyguard to the King-Elect, without a healthy degree of respect for the Coalition.

“How should we address you, sir?” The question comes from a whip thin cadet, her blonde hair restrained in a severe bun.

“Not as sir, that’s for fucking sure. Nyx will do just fine, though if you wanna insist on bullshit regulations, Rusher Ulric works.” Nyx hops up from the desk after this and studies the room with narrowed eyes. “Who wants to be first up? We aren’t bothering with theory or any of that shit, it’s pointless anyway.”

“Me.” The word is out of Gladio’s mouth before he can stop it. He hates being told he can’t do something, so he’s got a point to prove to this asshole.

Nyx’s footfalls can barely be heard as he stalks toward Gladio, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Astrals, it must be my birthday, ‘cause I sure do love when a green cadet with a stick up their ass is the first to volunteer. This oughta be fun.” Nyx tosses Gladio a phase module, which he catches.

“Ain’t here to have fun, Rusher Ulric. Here to learn.” Thanks to a recent growth spurt, Gladio’s able to look down at Nyx as he speaks.

Nyx throws his head back and laughs at this, complete with a knee slap. “Tell you what. You manage to even *partially* phase, I’ll write you a glowing letter of recommendation as long as my arm and give you full marks for the course. That’s how fucking sure I am that you won’t be able to do shit.”

Gladio learns over the next painful, torturous two hours just how right Nyx was. He swallows his anger and his pride and asks Nyx if he would be willing to spend some time one-on-one with him outside of class.

“Shitting Astrals, you’re serious?” Nyx asks. Once he sees Gladio’s stormy expression, he raises his hands in capitulation. “Fine, fine. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, I guess. We’re ordering takeout though, and you’re paying. Consider it my fee.”

*****

With all the above in mind, it was definitely not love at first sight, although it didn’t take long for them to develop the most casual mentor-mentee relationship ever. Nyx gets deployed a fair amount through Gladio’s time at the Academy, but they comm when they can and catch up when Nyx is on leave in Insomnia. It’s during Nyx’s absences that Gladio probably realizes he has a bit of a crush, but it’s years before anything happens on that front.

This got long, but thank you for asking!

#ali answers #artificial #GladNyx #gladniss

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

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I like the idea of Nox!Regis trying to connect to Nox!Ardyn as a brother. Or, at least, as a relative, as a *friend* - Regis is perfectly aware that Ardyn has Issues regarding biological family and Lucis Caelums. And Regis happens to be *both*.

I just answered an ask like that actually!

But yes all the Family Feels between them once Ardyn’s status as an LC gets out. It’s a struggle at first because Ardyn is mistrustful and has ALL the issues, but they get there eventually.

-They take turns being the Big Sib and the Little Sib. Sometimes Regis is the Older Responsible One and sometimes Ardyn is the Teasing Troll Older Sibling even if according to Ardyn’s (forged) birth certificate Regis is older.

-On the angsty side I also feel they bond over lost loves? Like- Regis finds Ardyn having a Quiet Day without Nox and somehow figures out that Ardyn is morning the woman he loved most and so Regis quietly just- sits with him in understandings. Because for LC some wounds never heal.

-I like the thought of them swapping stories, even if Ardyn is careful to scrub them of incriminating details of time period or lineage. Regis tells him about Aulea, and Ardyn smiles at the thought of such a spitfire woman. Ardyn tells him about Aera, and Regis ... Regis looks at Ardyn and Understands how much it must hurt to lose someone so kind and gentle.

-On a happier note- Once Ardyn accepts that This Is His Life Now, being the supposed half-brother of Regis, he starts attending more and more council meetings and functions (he’s defected from the empire at this point so people can’t use that against him at least) and proceeds to make Regis’s life both easier and harder by heckling the nobles and councilmembers to death. He also disappears and then randomly reappears with evidence of corruption for certain councilmen or nobles, looks honestly surprised when Regis uses it to arrest them rather than hold it over their heads as blackmail for eternity (”that’s immoral Ardyn” “so?”)

-So much sibling snark between these two. Ardyn is Flamboyant Gallows Humor snark and Regis is Deadpan Snark.

-Anyone watching these two go at it for more than five minutes Understands exactly why Nox is the way he is, because that’s his bio-dad and that’s the man who raised him. He was doomed from the start.

-Ardyn takes Regis’s health way, way more seriously than his own. Surprisingly this ends up helping both of them, because when Ardyn sweeps in to drag Regis away from his work to rest or eat, Regis insists that he won’t do any such thing unless Ardyn does the same.

-Titus could bang his head against a wall because SERIOUSLY. You can’t be bothered to remember to eat or sleep for three days but when it comes to your half-brother you will actually figure out how to use the alarm clock function on the phone you never use for literally anything else to set up periodic alarms for when to go bug Regis to be healthy? S E R I O U S L Y?????

-Clarus could cry. The half-brother former Nif Chancellor is better at getting Regis to TAKE A BREAK than Clarus himself. He’d be ashamed if he wasn’t so grateful.

-These two are SUCH disaster siblings. Do not let their age and poise fool you. Once Ardyn has accepted his new status as Regis’s sib, they are utter Disaster Siblings. They both like to pretend they are not, but they have Shields for a reason.

-Titus and Clarus have never bonded more firmly than now, when they have their idiots (plus Cor) to complain about together.

-Ardyn is incapable of getting drunk (fun fact) because of his magic, so sometimes he freaks Regis out by binging like- five bottles of something borderline illegally strong and then using it as an excuse to go Do Something Fun But Stupid. Regis inevitably ends up either talking Ardyn down with a bribe of some kind or getting dragged along with him (and Cor and Titus because Cor is thoroughly drunk now and Titus knows better than to let the idiots go on their own). SOMEHOW they never get caught so there is no bad publicity on the king doing Stupid Things. Regis will never understand how they don’t get spotted even once (illegal methods and ancient magic Regis, Ardyn is cheating using illegal methods and ancient magic. Because he might be riding high on the buzz of five+ bottles of high-grade alcohol but all that does is make him feel pleasantly tingly, he is not actually drunk and is perfectly in control of his magic and actions).

#SE asks #hamelin-born asks #Nox verse #Secret Engima Rambles

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clandestineclairvoyant · 7 years ago

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Jungle Law

(Based on an au by @kickingshoes Where Lucian's are cats, Niflheim's dogs, there's deer and horses and tigers, but most important is Cor Leonis adopting puppy!Prompto)

Summary on AO3;

Cor opened what felt like the hundredth door of the day, and looked down the barrel of a gun.

It wasn’t the first time.

In fact, it was far from the first time, and probably bound to be far from the last. Something about Cor Leonis prompted people to point weapons at him, and if he ever found out why, he had strict standing orders to explain it to Clarus.

In detail.

Niflheim bases were large, sprawling, and confusing.

Cor had spent the past hour since they’d broken through the front gate trying to find the base Commander, or where they kept their project files; Whichever came first.

It was looking as if the base was going to crumble before either happened though, he thought idly, as dust from the concrete ceiling sifted gently down from another distant, rattling boom.

He felt no closer than when he’d started. Cor was more experienced than most, able to decipher most of the written signs on the walls, and easily following the cramped and sterile halls towards where he assumed the command offices were based on the flow of traffic and the upkeep of the hallways. But he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, since a sign that led towards ‘Infantry Research and Development’ certainly didn’t seem like where he’d find the base commander cowering. Possibly the files though.

Another rumble echoed through the base, and Cor adjusted his steps, letting the quaking of the floor rattle itself out. He remained stubbornly on all four paws, glancing at the ceiling to gauge how much time he had left, and whether someone from the Crownsguard would be able to disarm the self-destruct charges before the base Commander got clear and detonated them. If they didn’t, there was a time limit. The latest they could push to before cutting their losses and getting out, empty-handed or not. It was still a victory of a sort, with one less Niflheim base pushing onto the border of Duscae.

But their Infantry could do that. You sent in the Crownsguard for other reasons.

Cor scowled, pushing himself clear of the wall once the shaking stopped to head towards what looked like the door into the next research division, an emergency light blinking sickly over it. He had about another ten minutes, and then he’d have to start sounding the retreat.

Might as well see what the next corner brought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~42 Seconds~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cor opened what felt like the hundredth door of the day, and looked down the barrel of a gun.

It wasn’t the first time.

The scientist with the gun was dressed in familiar Niflheim whites, face covered by a plastic and rubber mask that had misted with quick shallow breaths brought on by panic and desperation. No doubt exacerbated by the fact that black and red blood was dripping freely and tackily from the naked blade in Cor’s hand. The scientists fur was an off white, what Cor could see of it under the white sterile cloaks most of them wore. Some kind of winter canine, a coyote or fox of some sort maybe. Didn’t matter.

He was slightly to the right of the door in front of row of odd containers set into the wall, and behind a bank of computers. They looked like glass and steel boxes set into complicated machinery, with double hinged doors to open them from the front. Cor had passed rooms full of them on his way here, but this one looked like the most recently used. Some if not most of them were dark and dusty with disuse; But the one the scientist was standing next to looked functional, if a little battered. It had lights on the side, indicators flashing indiscriminate red and green and the LED read out scrolling through a complicated array of numbers.

The room was cluttered compared to the rest of the facility, almost hospital-like. Cor had passed many empty and dark rooms with what looked like abandoned equipment and glass casings behind dirty and cracked observation screens. He hadn’t expected to find anything but perhaps some files back here.

And there were, between him and the scientist. Steel computer terminals with small keycodes and fingerprint scanners on them, no doubt holding the documents Cor had been hoping to prevent the magitek-facility employees from destroying. The Crownsguard had taken longer than he’d thought they would cracking the front door and muscling past ranks of MT’s, and he’d been forced on ahead alone to see what intel he could salvage before it was destroyed.

You always got the best stuff that way.

Fortunately, it looked like nothing here had been wiped yet. They might be able to pick apart the function and hierarchy of this particular branch if Cor could only download it onto the thumbdrive he had on his belt. Combined with scans of the base layout, and whatever equipment they could salvage, it could prove a boon to the war effort. Made it almost worth the three week trip.

Unfortunately, the scientist had gotten ahold of a gun, and thought it would stop Cor Leonis of the Crownsguard.

The hand that wasn’t holding a trembling weapon was thrust into the depths of one of the weird machine boxes, tubes and wires that had various liquids dripping from them into its hidden depths. It didn’t look to be opening quite right, and the scientist appeared to be fumbling with something before making a frustrated, guttural sound, and switching his full attention to Cor with both hands on his weapon.

It didn’t cease the shaking of the barrel, Cor noted idly, as the door swung shut behind him with a heavy, final sounding click..

“Back up. I- I have information. I was lead scientist on a multitude of projects here and- I said back up.” The man screamed- Cor guessed by the voice and the breadth of his shoulder it was a man- and jerked his gun pointedly. “Move back or I’ll blow the fucking kids brains out.”

Guessing correctly that Cor would not stop his slow and purposeful walk across the room to remove the man’s head from his shoulders, the scientist whirled to point his gun at the box, and it brought Cor to a surprised, jerking halt as soon as the words penetrated the blood soaked fog in his brain.

He didn’t say anything, trying to parse what he’d heard, and emboldened by the silence the scientist thrust a hand into the box (now that he was looking, Cor supposed it looked almost like a coffin) and this time managed to disentangle the contents, jerking loose a-

Baby.

Cor’s heart sunk. He couldn’t tell on first glance what it was, as he stayed in one spot and stared at the scientist, mind whirling. It could have been feline, a Lucian child. Could have been a canis, an underfed wolf. Could have been a bony sort of wildcat, some sort of prairie animal. The fur was silky, long, and paws slightly oversized, the distance too far to tell the shape.

Didn’t matter, since it was a child. A cub, his brain tried to beat into him, thinking of tiny spots and a disheveled white mane of fur. An instinct in his chest flipped and thrummed to life, like an engine starting, and for the first time in a long time Cor was afraid. His hands remained steady, his gaze unwavering. His heartbeat even remained the same as it ever did, steady and slow.

But he was afraid; And it pissed him off.

Cor’s next thought, as disjointed and aimless as it was with the base rumbling to pieces behind him and shaking the floor, was that it was cold in here. It was no place for a child. The computing power required in a Niflheim base necessitated low temperatures, and even hot-blooded Cor shivered underneath his thick leather coat and body armor, the steel and linoleum flooring ice-cold underneath his paws. He could see from here the pale color of the lips, the bloodlessness under the fingernails. The poor thing was shaking, eyes tight shut.

The scientist pressed the cold circle of metal at the end of his gun to the soft exposed belly of the- of the cub in the paper gown. Cor let the tip of his sword drop, a rumble of a frustrated growl starting somewhere in his chest that was deep enough and loud enough that the son of a bitchstumbled back on skittering paws, startled and tail tucking down between his legs.

The motion jerked the cords and tubes connected to the hostage taut, threatening to snap loose. The man didn’t seem to notice. His limbs shook in fear as the sounds of gunfire blatted out in the distant metal hallways, and if there hadn’t been another life in jeopardy, Cor would have been smug. But as it was he was mostly sick; Nauseous at the sight of one of the IV’s yanking loose, blood staining the gauze that had held it in place on the arm.

The cub was shockingly silent in the meanwhile, even with blood starting to snake its slow way down his arm, eyes screwed shut and paper pale under the heart-breakingly small hospital gown. His hair was light as dandelion fluff the same shade as his fur, paws and tail drawn up to his second heart and belly as if to protect it. Cor thought numbly of how fast he would be able to get there. How fast this paper-pushing scientist could pull a trigger. How fast he could knock the gun loose, how fast he would be able to draw a sword-

How fast a bullet would-

He felt sick, and stopped thinking, raising his hands and letting his sword drop onto the ground.

When the man reached the end of his tether the machinery fell over with a splintering crash of plastic and glass, and he gave a hoarse yelp of alarm; Cor and the cub didn’t even flinch. Cor because his eyes were fixed predatory on the gun, and the cub… The cub because he wasn’t entirely sure the little thing was awake, or aware.

Cor didn’t know why the he didn’t move, didn’t wiggle, but the concern at the shockingly still figure was enough to keep him in one place, to keep him rumbling threateningly, tail lashing in agitation behind him.

He’d faced hostages before, the dregs of society forced to the ends of their tethers and desperate. But never so unexpectedly. Never with such a little victim, and never when the standoff was so short on time. Or with so much on the line, he thought, eyeing the banks of computers. It looked like a program was already running on them, and he knew the longer he took the more files were being deleted.

Shit.

“What the fuck do you have cubs in here for?” Cor demanded hoarsely, stalling and icy still with anger. But the scientist simply kept his eye on him without answering, and slowly backed towards the computer terminal protruding from the wall covered in monitors. The cub was transferred to the crook of his arm, dangling and still curled in on himself, gun held in the free hand as the scientist kicked some debris to the side to access the computer.

If he’d just set the gun down, Cor might chance it. There was plenty at stake, enough to risk the bullet if it was just himself on the line.

But. He had to put something down if he wanted to get rid of the files. The gun, or the kid.

He seemed to realize it soon after Cor had, breath shaky, and staring down at the cub. He made a disgusted noise, and held the kid up by his scruff, the sneer evident in his voice.

“Come here and take him. And don’t even think of trying anything. This is military grade hollowpoint; You’d be dead before the kid hit the ground.”

The scientist jerked his gun pointedly. Cor didn’t reply, lowering his hands slowly and stalking one step forward.

The scientist flinched, but didn’t react, gun held firmly pointed at the kid.

Then one more.

He kept his steps slow and even, loose. Like he was afraid, cowed. Like he wasn’t shaking apart on the inside with anger, just some soldier worried about the kid and in over his head. Like he didn’t feel that familiar choking rage coming up his throat like something physical and hot, prickling the skin of his hands and face and the delicate tracing of veins on the inside of his forelegs. Making his head almost spin without an outlet.

Cor didn’t show a single bit of that. Hands curled slightly in on themselves, tail dragging, and head tilted slightly to the side. Harmless.

The cub was looking at him now, Cor noticed when he let his eyes glance down. His eyes were blue, set slightly wide with almost invisible lashes and his fist stuck firmly up in his mouth, the blood running down towards his elbow. He wasn’t quite a baby, and to Cor’s sinking disappointment he was probably old enough to be afraid. Maybe even old enough that he understood what he was looking at, when he followed the kid’s line of sight, and realized he was looking at the blood splattered across Cor’s front.

A third step, and the gun was trembling, and this close Cor could make out the shape of a face behind the mask, the pale flat line of a mouth pressed too tight and the dark of his eyes. They darted nervously, from forward, to back towards the computer, as if wracked with indecision.

Good.

He never took a fourth step.

The base shook with the strongest explosion yet, and the scientist staggered with the shock of it. The force was powerful enough to knock one of the cabinets over, shattering and sending black viscous liquid oozing out across the linoleum, sparks flying in bright green arcs from equipment shifted loose from it’s moorings. The sound muffled the scientists shout of surprise; Cor only noticed because of his intense focus on the mask, the mist of breath across the visor, and the tension in the scientist’s shoulders. The way he staggered, off balance.

The gun jerked to the side, away from the cub, and the wash of relief Cor felt to be looking down that cavernous barrel was almost obscene. He was already moving, and had never been more grateful to have a gun pointed at him as the cub slipped loose from the man’s grip; Squeaking in shock, and kicking his hindpaws out to knock himself further clear.

And then the gun clicked and Cor saw the hammer go down, the stale impotent sound of a misfire all that happened.

He met the man’s eyes through the visor of his mask, and didn’t smile. But something in his face must have showed, because the man dropped the gun from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Cor never took a fourth step, because he leapt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~9 Hours 23 Minutes~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were only a baker’s dozen of the Crownsguard left, winding their way across the hills.

Sixteen miles they’d crossed already, a smear of dark gray marring the crystal clear glow of the winter skyline behind them where the Niflheim facility still burned, hours after cracking the damned thing.

Luche had what physical evidence they’d managed to gather on his broad blue-gray colored back, shaggy with the cold and tail flicking for balance. Ackers at the back shouldered most of the medical supplies, severely depleted, his ginger fur a bright spot of color on the landscape that made Cor’s eyes twinge when he craned his neck back to check on the troops.

Or maybe that was the dryness.

Cor’s fur wasn’t quite long enough to withstand the weather, and he’d been forced to don a cape to cover his second-shoulders and withers while the others could simply make do with their fur and coats, tail dragging behind him and leaving a long line behind him in the snow. The cape was dark, simple. Factory made and mass-produced. It had been one of the MT snipers, and not so tattered and singed as to be unusable. It was thick enough to do the trick, and fit well enough.

It was crusted with dried fluid, which Cor didn’t inspect too closely. He simply scraped the worst of it off and stuck his sleeves in, and kept a barrier of cloth between the kid and any that might remain.

The landscape stretched out as pale and white as bone around them, ugly protrusions of rock bursting through in a series of ridges and gullies, making it a long difficult climb back towards the pick up. Trees here were tall and thin, bursts of bright emerald green needles capped in snow, that did nothing to break the harsh wind that plucked at their clothes and threatened to bowl over the smallest of the Crownsguard, Pontius. He struggled on hooves cut bloody by the hard packed crust of the ground, propping up Horatia who was limping on a shredded paw.

Cor wasn’t much better, towards the front, gathering his coat tighter around the bundle in his arms and blearily wishing they’d thought to bring more thermal packs. He did a better job of making it over the snow than Pontius’s delicate paws, but his pads did jack shit to block out the cold. Even Luche had done better than he had to grow a winter coat during their six month deployment, all patchy shaggy fur and embarrassed blushes when Monica pointed it out.

Cor had been forced to shoulder capes and blankets, and bed down with whichever of the Crownsguard was amenable enough to share body heat, in order to even get a couple hours sleep during their deployment.

Now, with so few people, it would be hard even to get that.

The cub in his arms snuffled, and Cor idly brought his lapel further up, to cover the small pink hand that had ventured out to rest against his throat, a spot of heat almost lost in the cold. He’d taken every spare bit of clothing he had and bundled the kid up. A linen shirt, a cape, some rags that had almost been used for bandages. Now they wrapped four little paws, where they were tucked against a soft golden belly and bundled in the only blanket the Guard could spare.

Cor had his jacket, and he had a cape thrown over spotted shoulders to cut the worst of the chill out. Beyond that he was just putting one paw in front of the other, hoping that the kid didn’t get sick from the cold, from being hungry.

From whatever the fuck those scientists were doing to cubs out on the borders of Duscae in a facility that was barely even on Niflheim records.

“How’s he doing?”

Monica drew up alongside him, breath pluming out and cheeks rosy with the chill. She was doing unsurprisingly well, serious face set in a determined frown and eyes fixed on the snowy horizon where their train car back to Duscae waited. Her paws were large, far wider than the span of her first hands, and padded across the snow while leaving only the lightest shadows of a divot. Cor tried not to feel jealous at the swathes of thick, mottled fur that snow didn’t even melt on, and grunted noncommittally.

“He’s fine.”

Monica smiled wryly, before settling back into her usual contemplative frown. Her tail was short, bobbed. Didn’t betray anything, and Cor tried not to feel bitter when the anxiety of not knowing what she was going to bring up caused his tail to twitch uncertainly.

“He might not make it you know.”

Cor stiffened, even more than the cold had managed; Monica continued undaunted, always as clear and blunt as her Captain needed. Her eyes were a steely gray, and she didn’t even look at him when she said it, “He was hooked up to a lot of wires. He’s small.” She did look down at the bundle that, while considerable, didn’t make as large of a dent in Cor’s jacket as a cub of his apparent age should. “Too small.”

“I was small too.” Cor grit out, voice hoarse with cold. The kid stirred, as if he could sense them talking about him, and Cor felt the brief thump of a tail wagging sleepily against his ribs before he tightened his grip and jostled his arms soothingly, ignoring the strange look Monica gave him. “He’s just cold, and tired, same as the rest of us. Don’t be so morbid Lieutenant.”

“Sure.” She said agreeably. “Its was just a thought.”

“Yeah well.” A gust of wind whipped across the line of Crownsguard, and Cor grimaced against the sting, as a murmur of disquiet rose up behind them and a couple of heartfelt grumbles. “Keep your thoughts to yourself.” He was being uncharitable, perhaps. She was making a lot of sense. What had possessed him to pick the kid up in the first place, he didn’t know.

But he had, and now he wasn’t sure how to put him down.

They trudged on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~10 Hours 12 Minutes~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One train car, Cor noted wearily. The train car that’d been sent to pick them up made the faintest bump on the horizon, almost indiscernible from the stones and abandoned structures in the war-torn landscape; just as they’d intended. It was almost invisible from the air, and the clear crystal tracks next to impossible to discern from a distance It had taken them two cars to get everyone north.

Now, one was more than enough. Cor tried not to think about it.

His arms were numb with the weight of the cub in his arms, and jacket damp. He wasn’t sure if it were tears, snot, or some sort of terrible mixture of both, but with his shirt serving it’s last duty as a blanket for the kid, he could only pray it didn’t reach his bare chest.

Despite the moisture mysteriously seeping from the kid, there was silence in his arms. No sounds besides the puffs of breath from the Crownsguard around them, the crunch of snow under paws and hooves, and the occasional grunt of pain from their injured or quiet murmur of encouragement.

He knew it was bad, the silence. But Cor couldn’t help but be relieved that on top of everything they didn’t have to deal with a screaming kid.

“Last stop little guy. Then Duscae.” He murmured quietly, guilt prodding him to say something, anything, and lifting the weight in his arms to adjust for the climb up the hill. He’d tried handing him off, tired and hoping that he’d imprint on someone else that wasn’t a completely fucking terrible idea. But every time he tried the little shit would clam up and tense stiff enough that it hurt to feel, all locked limbs and wide dilated eyes. His chest would start to move pitter-patter fast, fists clenched, and Cor would hurriedly take him back murmuring inane niceties. Now, after the entire hike, something like stockholm syndrome had set in and Cor wasn’t sure he could set the little shit down if he even wanted to. The idea of putting the cub down didn’t sit right anymore when he was still tense and behind enemy lines, made his fur prickle and his mouth tense in an uneasy snarl.

His arms would probably fall off if he tried anyway.

No one, in the short time they’d had to evaluate, knew why he wouldn’t cry. Whimper. Do something. Cor had carried this cub through the ruins of a Niflheim base, past dead bodies he’d tried to hide by shoving the small face into the depths of his coat, and humming dumb nonsense songs. Stupid little strings of song he’d heard on the radio, or things he’d heard other parents sing. Tunes that didn’t seem to have much of an effect, but left Cor without a wiggling armful of limbs and a pair of eyes looking shocked up at him.

But still, the kid had hardly made a whimper, besides to yawn wide and suck on his thumb when the shadows started getting long and the sun low. He’d been chilled on one side while Cor had pressed him to his chest during the hike, trying desperately to keep him warm when the cub started fussing. No doubt hungry, or thirsty despite the water Cor managed to drip into his mouth. Kicking fitfully before freezing completely still and stiff again, like he’d gotten scared. Or expected Cor to… Do something. Hurt him.

But he hadn’t cried.

They climbed the last stretch, and Cor finally, finally sat, lying against the icy side of the train car while the more able-bodied Crownsguard clambered up the steps, groaning and giving small whoops of relief when they saw the cots.

The cub wiggled, and Cor untangled him enough to looks down at his face, all bright blue eyes and downy gold hair. His nose and cheeks were flushed, but it appeared he was warm enough tucked into Cor’s coat, judging by the way he blinked up and idly pat his hand up against Cor’s lapel and chest. He was still strangely quiet, still with his free thumb in his mouth. His fur was soft, much softer than a cheetah cub’s, although it was a similar shade of gold without the chaotic tufting white, almost dun colored.

Cor fished a paw out, and felt a flicker of amusement when the cub kicked and tried to chew on his fingers. Pressing on the toes, the claws didn’t retract, and the pads were noticeably black. Canine.

“Well.” Ausker said, coming out from the car after what felt like thirty or so minutes, wiping his hands clean on a spare rag. Cor had spent the few quiet moments just looking down at the little cub while the rest of the team got settled, letting him chew on his grimy knuckles and jostling him every now and then when he tried to kick himself loose from the various blankets and shirts. The sounds of the Crownsguard making idle conversation and clinking gear together was soothing. Much more soothing than the whistle of wind across the snow, or the grind of weaponry. Or the slow implosion of concrete. “Let’s take a look at the little guy.”

For a moment, Cor didn’t want to hand him over. The idea of giving the cub to someone else and having him wiggle in distress, or for fucks sake, cry, was too much to handle. But Ausker held his hands out, patient, and Cor finally gave the kid one last little pat and got wearily to his feet to give him to the Crownsguard medical officer.

Within a few moments they were back inside, and Ausker was distracting the cub- pup, he was a Canis, Cor reminded himself- with an inflated latex glove.

The car started moving while he worked, slowly coughing to a start in the cold air and dragging itself a few feet on the tracks before building momentum. It didn’t whistle, since there was no steam, but did give an impressive moan of cold steel warming under the heat of magik engines.

Cor rocked carefully on his paws, catching himself on the cold strut of metal that came off the wall of the car to form a bench, watching Ausker’s hands as he palpated the kid’s ribs under the thin paper gown that was all he had to wear. It was slowly warming, with the heat of all the Guard and the electric grill radiating warmth through the car from the back corner, but Cor still felt uneasy and tucked a blanket more firmly around his furry lower half.

“Six. Do we have anything for the kid to wear?” He murmured wearily, and the pup’s head jerked to the side at the sound, tail thumping faintly on the seat he’d been perched on as his eyes fixed on Cor, fist firmly against his mouth and working eagerly. It had to have been a coping mechanism of some sort, but Cor couldn’t help but find it endearing. Even cuter was when Ausker checked the reflexes in the kids elbow with the tiniest hammer Cor had ever seen, causing the pup to jump in surprise and give the doctor a betrayed look.

“Probably not, but Pontius is working on it.” Ausker said, and gave the kids head a firm scratch and pet in reward when he didn’t fidget. Pontius waved from his seat at the back of the car, where he was haphazardly sewing something and letting Luche use him as a pillow. The car rocked gently as it sped up, but it only made Pontuis scowl and shove irritably at Luche, who was interfering with his stitches by virtue of his shoulders shoving under his hands. Cor imagined Pontius’s velvet fur was appealing in the cold metal of the train car, all soft ash gray with the feathered tail tossed over Luche’s hooves.

“Hrn. Well, he should work faster.”

Cor stiffened when Ausker pulled out a needle and a phial, but it was pointless. The pup didn’t even flinch, simply watched Ausker with bare interest, then held small hands up to Cor when he was done, looking plaintive. When Ausker gave him a nod, Cor picked him up, tucking the pup back into the crook of his arm and letting the little blonde head snug under his chin.

The smug look Ausker gave him was met with a lift of his lip and a small snarl.

“Relax. He checks out as healthy enough. A little dehydrated, a little malnourished, but it’s only to be expected from what you told me.” Ausker became slightly more serious, frowning, and looking at where the kid had started to fidget. “I can’t imagine what they had infants there for.”

“I can imagine any number of things,” Cor said bluntly, rocking the pup gently in his arms, and ignoring the flinch Ausker gave. “And you can too. Don’t be sentimental.”

Ausker’s mouth thinned to a grim line, giving Cor a dark look which was ignored. He was commanding Officer of the Unit. Not here to baby them. “I’m not being sentimental. But the equipment that wasn’t damaged beyond all repair was too heavy to take with us, and nobody who was qualified was able to take a long enough look. We don’t know what they were doing at that base, besides that it’s somewhere in the chain supply of Niflheim weaponry and they were doing some kind of genetic stem cell research, if their vitatanks are in anyway similar to ours.”

They were. Cor had been deeper in the base than the others, and decided not to mention the smaller vitatanks he’d seen until it was necessary for a brief. The sort of thing he only really told Clarus, or Regis; In the safety of the Citadel and with the safety of miles between him and the sight of the obsolete labels fixed to the front of almost a third of the vitatanks.

“Luckily, I managed to salvage about half the files on the desk terminal in the main vitatank atrium while the team was subduing the security.” The terminals had been on a closed system, all wireless signals snuffed out by a signal jammer that no doubt extended for the whole base, and made downloading it a much lengthier and difficult process than it had to be. What with the pup shaking silently in his arms, and the body of that Niflheim scientist leaking on the floor where Cor had left it. “We’ll hand it over, they can decide for themselves what was going on.”

“Hm. And this little guy?” Ausker wiggled his fingers enticingly at the pup, who looked as surprised at that as he had at anything, head bobbling backwards and looking up at Cor in bewilderment. Cor felt another flicker of amusement, and let him figure it out for himself. “You have a name for him yet? Or are we going by number.” Ausker caught the small hand that wasn’t buried into Cor’s coat front, pulling it gently out and turning it to show the barcode with a string of numbers. The ink was stark black against paper pale skin, and Cor rumbled involuntarily at the idea, tightening his hold and causing Ausker to arch an eyebrow.

“No.” The pup stiffened again, getting that blank look, and Cor made an effort to calm down, loosen his hold, and jostle his armful soothingly. It was jerky, and he frowned, feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

He was unused to being gentle. He’d held Gladiolus Amicitia a few times, Clarus laughing fit to burst every time he tricked Cor into holding the baby, all awkward elbows and desperate looks when the tiger cub started to fuss.

This was different. The pup was quieter, stiller, and too watchful. Cor didn’t like it; but since he was the only one who seemed to be able to hold him for now, he figured he was responsible for making it disappear as much as he was able.

“Well, we should call him something. How about something with the snow? It’s cold as hell out. Glacies?”

“Name him after Cor’s favorite thing; Acies!” Pontius called from the corner, drawing a chorus of grumbles from the occupied cots around the swaying train car from the Crownsguard trying to get some sleep.

“No.” Cor thought back to the gun the scientist had held, the one that had whipped from pointing at the kid, to right between Cor’s eyes; A black circle that had gotten larger in micrometers as time slowed down and he’d gotten closer across the room.

Thought of the echoing click, as the piece of shit misfired.

“Prompto.” Cor said, and Prompto looked up at his voice and smiled, the first one he’d seen, even if it was quickly replaced with that startled look he gave as Ausker broke into laughter.

“That shitty handgun model?” He looked down at the pup and grinned, holding his hands up at the defensive glare Cor gave him. “Alright alright, calm down. It’s a great name. Hey Prompto!” Ausker grabbed the little hand in gentle fingers and shook it in a pantomime of a handshake, his own tail curling in delight when Prompto patted it and investigated the gloved fingers curiously. “Nice to meet you little guy. Daddy Cor here will take good care of you. You’re in the safest place in all of Lestallum right now.”

Cor huffed and jerked away, storming over to his own cot to catch some sleep while he could, ignoring the embarrassed blush he could feel creeping up his neck that caused the team close enough to see to break into chuckles. Monica to offered him a small, soft smile from the one cot over. Her paws crossed elegantly in front of her, fur plush looking now that she’d groomed the blood and snow from it, and Cor gave her a brisk nod as he settled in with Prompto.

The pup wiggled into the blankets eagerly when Cor set him down, making a surprised series of noises when Cor climbed in after him, arranging himself in a curl to prevent the pup from falling out. He laid his upper body against the wall, the reassuring rocking of the car soothing even if it was cold as hell. Every motion brought them closer to home, and it made Cor’s tail flick in satisfaction.

After a while Prompto stopped wiggling, snuggling by Cor’s side in the warm fur against his ribcage. He was no doubt exhausted. Cor wasn’t familiar with babies at all, but he suspected they weren’t used to staying awake this long at whatever age Ausker had guessed at Prompto being. Roughly one and a half to two and a half years old was his best guess.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, the small motion of the pup’s tail against Cor’s hind knee slowed to a halt, and eventually was replaced by the small kicks and twitches of a deep sleep. If he concentrated, Cor thought he might be able to feel the little flicker of a heartbeat and the slow expansion of breathing.

He felt a sinking in his chest, at odds with the warm fond feeling that caused his tail to curl up under the blankets and an embarrassed purr to almost free itself from his throat.

Clarus was going to be a pain about this.

#kickingshoes #ffxv #taur au #cor leonis #dad!cor #prompto #writing #jfc sorry guys if this is bad

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