Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - No Matter

 
 It wasn’t his alarm clock he woke up to, no. It was the banging on his door and the sharp bark of a familiar voice through the creaky wood that separated him from his daily nightmare. 

 “Get up!” Shouted one of the other inhabitants of this large estate they lived in, it sounded like his brother, Loqi. Followed by more banging. 

Peeking above the edge of his blanket, Prompto’s piercing blue eyes watched groggily as dust flew into the air. Glinting through the sliver of daylight peaking from behind his blinds like the fireflies that sometimes populated the wheat fields in the summers. Prompto was just glad that the other blonde had decided to have mercy and leave him be for the morning. Loqi wasn’t his real brother, they’d been raised together. Though Loqi was older than him by a few years, which meant he had more memories of the place they were born. Prompto on the other hand, was brought to Lucis as an infant and had grown up there his entire life.

He didn’t sit up until after he heard the footsteps recede down the stairs. Prompto puffed out a breath before sitting up, his mattress creaked under his weight, the sound a result of the many years put into the thinning cushion beneath him. His sheets were stiff, and his blanket smelled lightly of dander. Which was fine, Prompto knew it was clean, he’d just washed it yesterday. With a yawn and a stretch, Prompto laid his feet on the hardwood floor, the cold seeped through his toes and sent a chill into his bones right off the bat. He shuddered and quickly made his way over to his window, it was still pretty early, which meant the evening chill was still creeping upon the grass and flowers outside. Lacing the greenery with sparkling frost that shimmered in the morning light like diamonds. Prompto wanted desperately to be able to go out and photograph the beauty. He didn’t trust the camera to leave the confines of his room, though. 

He peaked to the side and noticed that the bowl he’d set out last night was empty. It had been full of the remainder of the chicken from dinner the night before. Which meant that the stray creature that lived on their roof had eaten it last night. Prompto wasn’t sure what the animal was: unsure if it was a raccoon or a bird, but it was often pretty hungry. And it lamented the pitiful wails of its hunger pains at night until he’d started feeding it regularly. He had a habit of feeding the local strays, cats would climb up onto the roof just to see if he’d given them anything, and dogs found him on his way to school and would walk with him. He’d even fed the murder of ravens that lived in the nearby trees. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t stop himself, despite knowing that he’d never be able to keep any of the strays he attracted, it was nice to feel appreciated for his efforts. Animals had this way of never expecting anything from you, while simultaneously being dependent on your very existence. And yet they could choose to just up and leave. Prompto admired that very much, and he often wondered what it was like to be able to float around wherever he wanted, knowing that there were some kind people out there who would make sure he was safe, as many people did with strays. 

Prompto leaned down to a trunk tucked under the window sill and pulled out his clean school uniform. He made to work readying it, setting it aside, and grabbing a zip-up hoodie. With the cold staved off of his bare shoulders and arms, he felt prepared to face the morning. He caught his reflection and gave himself a smile, trying to awaken the muscles for the day. He didn’t bother fussing over his hair right now, he had to get downstairs before he had another visit from his, well, brother. 

Once down in the kitchen, Prompto made quick work of readying a pot of coffee, and some easy breakfast for the other two in the house. He hummed as he went through the motions, familiar with the monotony of the chores for the morning. It was comfortable, he knew what he was doing, though it did get boring. He often found himself antsy, or unable to sit still in his own skin. Like a beast was clawing its way up his ribs and out of his esophagus. Often, this beast took control in the form of his verbalization. Which didn’t always work out, he’d been told many times to think before he spoke. Most of these occurrences were warnings thrown his way from teachers or classmates. Other times they were insults followed by a direct physical action. Those occurrences were usually rare, as the man of the estate was often out on business. 

“Good morning.” Except for today, Prompto supposed. Before him stood the tall, large man he was made to call father when in the public eye. He wore an outrageously large house coat. It draped across his figure like curtains, or maybe a carpet around his shoulders. His tone had that same strange lilt to it, the one that set Prompto’s every nerve on fire. To the unknowing soul, it would’ve been deemed charming, or charismatic. But Prompto knew the truth. To the trained eye this blood-red rose had thorns that cut deeper than most swords. Before him stood a snarling, writhing wolf in a man’s skin, Ardyn Izunia.

“Good morning,” Prompto greeted in response, setting a cup of coffee on the table before the red-haired man. “I have stuff ready for breakfast sandwiches.” Prompto rushed, setting the plates on the table as well, trying to leave the man’s presence as soon as physically possible. He’d already pocketed a couple of biscuits and meat patties to eat on his way to school. Desperately wanting to make his exit as quickly as possible. And he’d almost done it, his foot was on the threshold between the kitchen and the entryway with the stairs leading up to his attic room.
 
 A hand was raised to stop his retreat and he halted his movements. Waiting with bated breath as Ardyn raised his cup to his lips, he sipped the dark liquid, and Prompto could see the steam rising off the glass. Ardyn made a noise of contemplation. 

 “Something wrong?” Prompto asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek to keep a common smile on his lips. Ardyn lowered his hand and gave Prompto a smile, Prompto would’ve left already if it were any other smile. Instead, he stood stock still as the hot liquid splashed across his chest and neck. He flinched at the heat and tried not to appear too bothered, the coffee soaked through his shirt and welted his skin bright red. 
 
 “Make another pot, stronger this time,” Ardyn hummed his demand as if he were ordering another drink from a cafe, leaving his cup beside him as he pulled out his work tablet to scroll through reports.

“Yes, sir.” Prompto moved back to the coffee pot to begin another brew. 

He took the opportunity while his back was to the older male, and pulled the collar of his shirt to unstick the fabric from his burned rosy complexion. He took a quiet, steadying breath as he prepared the grinds. Most mornings were like this, Ardyn would decide which part of Prompto’s chores deserved to be thrown back at him in order to leave an impact. Ardyn called it obedience training since Prompto didn’t follow his orders most of the time. 

It wasn’t even that Prompto didn’t follow orders. It’s that he defied the very concept that played the biggest part in his creation, according to Ardyn. He was meant to fulfill a purpose, a predisposition of something Prompto thought was so vile that he couldn’t stomach even the thought of it. 

And Ardyn did not like that. In fact, after years of his ‘obedience training’, he had given up. And if he’d had it his way, Prompto would probably be either sent back to his place of origin, or he’d be six feet under. Prompto tried not to shudder at the thought. Tried not to imagine being buried under six feet of dirt, heavy and cold all around him. Pressure built on him until he was–

It was best not to think about that. His nightmares would continue the thought later, he was sure. 

Thankfully, Ardyn was backed into a corner. He couldn’t rid himself of Prompto’s presence because it would be too suspicious. Prompto was perfectly healthy and went to the local private school. While Prompto himself didn’t have many friends, his teachers were sure to notice a disappearance. And Ardyn was in no place to start being questioned by the local authorities.

Prompto very carefully set a new cup of coffee on the table beside the man, deciding to stand by in case Ardyn got upset again for him trying in vain to quickly flee. Ardyn paid his presence beside him no mind until he took a sip from his cup with another identical hum of contemplation. Prompto braced himself minutely, eyeing Ardyn’s actions carefully. The man’s eyes never left the tablet in his hands, but he crooked a finger to wave Prompto to lean down beside him. Prompto complied with as little hesitance as possible. Ardyn reached up and grabbed his chin, holding him in place while he didn’t once move his eyes from the tablet. Prompto tried not to glance at the report the man was reading, he knew if he did it would only end worse for him. 

“Much better,” the man said, patting the side of Prompto’s face in a way that made his skin crawl. The blonde stood once more, trying to unclench his fists. 

“Is there anything else?” Ardyn took a pause, genuinely considering the question and Prompto could feel his mood deflating with the thought that he’d have to miss school for some random chore the man had him do. He breathed a sigh of relief when Ardyn shook his head, scrolling on his tablet further. 

“Not at the current moment. When you get home don’t forget to clean the guns. Special events are happening.” He hummed, side-eyeing Prompto with a wicked yet charming grin that made Prompto’s trigger finger itch.

“Yes, Sir.” Prompto turned on his heel and hurried from the kitchen, thankfully that he’d only run into one of the two other people he shared his home with.

He briefly wondered when Cindy would come back to visit. Maybe they could go out for boba in the city or something. It’d been nearly a year since he’d last seen her. Which was quite a while, considering this was technically her house. 

The Aurum estate. A land rich in history, with fields of wheat that were currently dying and unkempt. There were large shops all over the property that housed big rigs and aviary machines that the Aurum family had either worked on or acquired through trade as payment. As a kid, Prompto and Cindy ran all over the land, climbing on the equipment as if it were a jungle gym. He’d remembered when they were super young when Lady Aurum was still around. However, that was a long time ago, probably around twelve years, now. 

Cindy had stopped smiling as brightly after that. 

After the death of Lady Aurum, Ardyn had shown a few of his true colors. With less supervision over his actions towards the children, Cindy began to suffer the suffocation of his actions alongside the mourning of her mother. It was so oppressive, to see such a bright spirit dim so dark. Prompto was very happy when she left to go live with her Grandfather, Cid. Though, he supposed that’s probably what Ardyn was after all along. Prompto had always known that Ardyn never loved Cindy’s mother. He was just using her for her estate, trying to dig his claws as deep into the influential families of Lucis as much as possible. 

Prompto once again shook the thought from his mind. He didn’t want to think about why Ardyn was doing all of this. 

He didn’t want to think about what he was supposed to do. 

“Prompto,” Came a familiar voice, a hand landing on his shoulder in greeting. “Where were you this morning?” The other boy sounded more disgruntled than usual. His eyebrows drawn together to pinch his face into a look of irritation. 

“Sorry Noct, I woke up late this morning,” Prompto explained. This wasn’t true, he was running late because Ardyn had him remake the coffee. “Are you okay man?” He asked, frowning in concern as the two began walking towards their usual spot for lunch. Noctis shoved his hands in his pockets as he chewed on his words before speaking them. 

“Ignis had me up early, he was trying to help finalize some arrangements.” He mumbled with a poorly concealed yawn. Prompto hummed in contemplation, looking ahead of them. Noctis must be talking about the festival that King Regis is initiating for his birthday. 

“Sounds boring,” Prompto scrunched his face up. “At least the festival is gonna be killer! And everyone gets to skip school for it. How long is it again, a week?” Prompto couldn’t help but grin, the idea of the festival had him pumped. Being able to celebrate his best friend’s birthday lightened his mood every time he thought about it. He was thankful that Noctis had convinced Regis to make the invites more inclusive. If not then Prompto wouldn’t be able to go to the ball at the end of each night of the festival. At this, Noctis rolled his eyes. 

“It's only three days, Prom.” He said with exasperation, though there was a smile on the prince’s lips. Prompto waved off the correction easily. 

“Yeah whatever, three days is all I need.” Prompto grinned, setting his school bag on the ground as the two made it to their destination. Along the cobblestone path that bordered both sides of a lazy stream. It cut a beautiful shape through the school’s grounds, accentuating the landscaping of the city nicely. On hot days Prompto and Noctis would dip their feet in the water to cool off while they ate. Unfortunately, the end of August usually brought with it traces of autumn, it was nearly time for frost to become a commonality. 

“Speaking of, the invitations should be going out today. Let me know if not all of them show up.” Noctis yawned, pulling out a well-made bento. Prompto lifted an eyebrow at him, chewing on a bite of his sandwich. 

“What do you mean all of them?” Noctis lifted an eyebrow back at him to mirror his expression. 

“The four I signed for your family? Why do all of you have to have different last names anyway.” Noctis shrugged off the question and began eating the lunch that Prompto knew had been prepared by Noctis’ adviser, though he’d never met the man, he wanted to kiss him for how good his fucking food was. However, all of those thoughts left Prompto’s mind when the realization of what Noctis said set in. 

He choked on his sandwich.
“Prompto!” Noctis’ eyes widened and he grabbed a water bottle, patting the blonde on the back as he choked down the bite of his sandwich. His nose burned, he must’ve coughed some of the water into it. 

“You okay?” Noctis frowned at him in worry. Prompto nodded furiously, clearing his throat and taking another drink of water. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” He gave the other a forced smile before covering it with another bite of his sandwich, dread welling up in the pit of his stomach. As far as he knew, Ardyn and Loqi weren’t planning on going to the festival. Ardyn might’ve wanted to, but probably just to kiss up to the other important families. 

And if Ardyn saw him there with Noctis, well, that’d be the end of his world. Noctis seemed to be convinced of Prompto’s well-being and turned back to his bento. Prompto snuck a look at the other, he tried to regain his breath. 

The prince had always been beautiful. Prompto might’ve been a little dumb but he wasn’t stupid, nor was he blind. Prince Noctis was a sight for sore eyes. His hair was dark and it was styled to frame his face nicely, a stark contrast to his pale complexion. His fair skin tone made his eyes more prominent, surrounded by full, thick lashes were two deep, dark blue eyes. Before meeting the prince, Prompto didn’t know that blue eyes came in that color. Maybe for good reason. 

 Right now, at high noon, the sun was bouncing off the gentle currents of the creek at their feet casting rays of light and shadow across Noctis’ features, highlighting the planes of his face and the fullness of the other’s lips. 

“What?” Noctis lifted an eyebrow at him, noodles hanging out of his mouth. Prompto blinked out of his thoughts and hoped that the other couldn’t see the flush of his cheeks. 

“You’ve got something in your hair.” He explained with a shrug, watching as the other frowned and made to pick the imaginary debris from his dark fluffy bangs. 

“Ugh, I just fixed these bangs.” He grumbled, Prompto busied himself with the rest of his sandwich, enjoying the other’s company for the remainder of their lunch period. 

When Prompto walked home that night, he had this irrevocable feeling of dread mounting on his shoulders. The house was dead quiet, all of the insects around the estate were silent, and Prompto suddenly felt like he couldn’t sense a living soul anywhere around him. He hesitated when he got to the door, once again wondering if he could make it on his own if he just, left. 

He steeled his nerves and twisted the handle. He made to rush up to his room, wanting to pass the air of morbidity frequenting the lower levels of the house.

“Prompto!” Shouted Ardyn, the blonde stopped dead in his tracks. The voice came from the study to his left, there were two voices speaking inside. And perhaps he had stood there waiting too long because the second voice called out to him. 

“Get your ass in here!” Loqi sounded supremely pissed off. Which wasn’t unusual, but it was alarming. Because he was addressing Prompto with that tone, which must’ve meant that Ardyn had done something that pissed him off. Prompto decided to get it over with and head to the open door of the study. Ardyn was sitting behind his desk, lounging leisurely with a glass of wine in his hand. Loqi stood beside him, his arms crossed in the haughty way he always did when things weren’t going the way he wanted.

“Look what came in the mail.” He dropped four envelopes on the desk, two of them were already open, and silver foil cardstock with gold calligraphy invited them to the celebration of Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum’s Nineteenth birthday. Prompto was initially excited to see that the invitations had arrived as promised, but his excitement quickly ebbed away upon realizing that these messages had Loqi pissed, and Ardyn scheming. 

“Invitations to the Festival, sir?” Prompto asked, trying to play the game. Ardyn smirked at him and nodded, steepling his fingers after setting his glass on the desk. 

“Looks like my hard work has paid off.” Ardyn hummed, pleased with himself for kissing ass so high up that he received an invitation. Prompto would never tell him that all of his efforts were in vain and that these were the result of his carefully concealed friendship with the birthday boy in question. 

“Congratulations,” He inwardly cringed. Think before you speak, Prompto. He reminded himself, though Ardyn seemed like he was in a good enough mood to let the sarcasm slide this evening. 

“Yes, looks like our plan can finally be enacted.” His smile was sharp, and Prompto felt it cut deep into his heart, for it had stopped beating. 

“Our plan, sir?” He asked numbly, flexing the feeling back into his fingertips. 

“You dipshit, the one thing that we were stationed here to do.” Loqi snapped out, throwing his hands up in his frustration. Ardyn raised a hand to silence the man. 

“You can finally prove yourself useful.” Ardyn hummed, a maniacal grin plastered across his features. Prompto suddenly felt like he was being buried under six feet of dirt. The pressure was mounting on his shoulders, and his throat closed up. He knew that he’d be asked to do this, knew that Ardyn would one day try and force him to fulfill his purpose. But right now all he could feel was the dense air around him, it felt as if he was being pressed between two concrete slabs, slowly applying more pressure before he was crushed beneath the weight of the gazes on him. Ardyn was still pleasantly smiling as if all of the pieces on his chess board were finally in place. 

“No.” 

The tension was cut and the air finally fled back into his chest. Though the man before him seemed as if he’d been sucker punched in the diaphragm. And then Prompto realized his mistake. 

“I told you he wasn’t going to fucking do it!” Loqi barked out, his frustration piquing. All the while Ardyn sat in hard silence.

Once again, he’d told Ardyn no.

Once again, he’d denied the purpose of his existence. 

And he’d do it again. He’d do it a thousand times over. No matter how hard the eventual blow from Ardyn had come. 

No matter how many times he was pulled up those stairs by his hair. Or had coffee thrown back at him. No matter how many times he was pushed, kicked, or tripped.

No matter how many times he had to deal with his ‘Obedience Training’. 

He was not going to kill Noctis.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Son of Lucis

 “Come on Prompto! Pull yourself up!” Came the cheerful voice of Cindy above him. She’d successfully made it to the top of the combiner tractor in the field. It had the best view of the grounds, but Prompto was always too small to pull himself up. Cindy usually helped him up onto the old piece of equipment. But she figured since he was getting bigger now he should be able to do it on his own. But Prompto got winded easily, and it wasn’t easy to pull himself up onto this, since he had always been a little on the chubby side.
 
 “I can’t!” He reached up, trying to pull himself up onto the large rusted fender like Cindy had done. The girl stuck her tongue out at him in a mocking manner. 
 
 “Come on! You’re already almost eight! Well, guess you gotta admit girls are better than boys!” She taunted good-naturedly. Prompto puffed out his cheeks and tried in vain to pull himself up once more. 

 “You two! How many times have I told you to stay off that thing!” Shouted a frantic voice from behind them. Prompto gasped and lost his grip, falling to the ground in a puff of dust. Lady Melba Aurum rushed towards them, leaning down to place her warm hands on either side of Prompto’s face. 
 
 “Are you hurt?” She asked kindly, checking him over and wiping dirt from his cheeks. He swiftly shook his head, allowing himself to bask in the gentle embrace for just a second. His heart swelled as she gave him a kind smile before turning to Cindy with a look of exasperation. 
 
 “Cindy! How many times have I told you to stop pulling poor Prompto into your games? Get off that thing before you fall and hurt yourself!” She chastised worriedly, Cindy sheepishly climbed down off the combiner with practiced ease. 

 “Lady Aurum! It’s okay, she didn’t-” Prompto tried to say, he didn’t want Cindy to get in trouble! She was his best friend. And it’s not like he didn’t want to do all this fun stuff. It wasn’t right for her to take all the fault for it!

 “Prompto,” Came Melba’s soft refrain, she sighed and offered him a kind smile. She pulled him up off the ground, with mild trouble due to his size. “You’ve always been too kind for your own good.” She fussed over wiping dirt from his hair, before taking his glasses and cleaning them off. “Please, never change that. Never stop being kind.” She said as she put his glasses back on, pushing them up his nose with that kind smile of hers. Prompto couldn’t help but be in awe. Him? Kind? How could she say that when she had just shown him so much compassion that he didn’t know what to do with himself? 

 “Uh, yes ma’am.” He said bashfully, his ears felt warm, and he began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

 “Yeah! Don’t turn into anyone poopy like Loqi!” Cindy said, scrunching her face up with distaste when speaking that name. 
 
 “Cindy! That is not nice!” Lady Aurum said, though her tone betrayed her words. They all knew the truth. Loqi was pretty poopy. Prompto had to hold back a giggle, putting his dirty hands over his face. 

Prompto was thankful, at least, that Ardyn had avoided his face. He always did, there was no way he could risk an investigation. But when compared to how bad the damage had been elsewhere, he was truly thankful that at least it wasn’t his face. 

 He’d be moving slowly for the next few days. Which was fine. Because Ardyn had finally given up on him. He wasn’t going to be forced to assassinate the prince. His best friend. 
 
 Unfortunately, Loqi was still being set on the mission, and Prompto was just banned from interfering. Ardyn had ripped up his invitation right in front of him. He’d seen the gold and silver decorative letter flitter and flick in the small glow of the moonlight, with his face pressed to the hardwood floor, his ribs aching awfully. 

 “Once the job is done, I’m going to enjoy getting rid of you.” Came the voice above him, Prompto wouldn’t dare drag his eyes from the pile of ripped paper in front of him. Ardyn delivered one last blow to his hip, turning him over in the process, jostling the rest of his wounds before the man left the attic. The swift closing of the door sent the letter shreds across the floorboards. A few of them flew into his hair, and all Prompto could do was stare at the ceiling. He felt the hot well of tears forming in his eyes, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He reached up and weakly pulled a piece of the paper from his hair, he looked at the silver surface and saw the black scrawl of Noctis’ signature. It wound elegantly across the paper in a beautiful show of calligraphy skills. Tears dripped down the sides of his face freely, and his smile turned into a pitiful grimace before he lowered the paper to his lips. He’d wanted to be there. Wanted to make Noctis smile in the midst of the events. Knowing that the other would be trying to remain completely barren of emotion most of the time. It had always been Prompto’s favorite pass-time to break that composure. He supposed that deep in his heart he’d always just wanted to make the other smile. For as long as he’d known Noctis, the other had easily worn a mask, a front to the public eye. And Prompto had felt honored that he was one of the few to see the Noctis beneath the carefully constructed public facade. 

There was a chance he’d never get to see it again, though.

He tried desperately not to think of what was going to happen at that ball. Loqi was an idiot, but he was competent in the field of weaponry and war. How could he not be with Ardyn as the overseer of their training? It was scary to think, that in just two day’s time, his best friend might very well be killed by his adopted brother. 

What would he do? How could he avoid this? He’d been completely banned from interfering. He couldn't even tell Noctis, because today was the start of the week’s end. And then on Monday, the festivities would begin, and classes were canceled in honor of the street fairs that would commence before the ball each night. 

“I just wish,” He breathed into the open air, his vocal cords felt raw. He wasn’t even sure where that sentence was going. Wasn’t sure where his thoughts were leading him. He didn’t know what to do. Maybe his brain was just fuzzy from the pain, his fingertips had felt numb from the moment he’d denied Ardyn’s words. 

“Go on,” Said a soft voice from behind him. Someone was trying to prompt him into continuing. The atmosphere of the attic was suddenly overcome with a thick presence that Prompto had never felt before. It was like cold frost set on his skin. He shuddered and forced his body to sit up in his alarm. His ribs ached, but his eyes searched frantically for the voice. 

“Prompto.” His head whipped around and his shining blue eyes met the intense gaze of a serene woman. Her eyes weren’t open, but Prompto knew she was watching him. He felt as if she was peaking into his soul and displaying all of the separate parts of his entire being. Spilling himself out to examine his contents. She was sitting on his bed, her elegance made her look out of place in the dirtied room. There was a glow emanating around her, and her dark hair framed her pale features in a beautiful symmetrical cut. 

“Who are you?” He asked almost breathlessly, moving to stand, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. He hadn’t realized just how wet his face was, how hard had he been crying? The woman smiled kindly, in a way he hadn’t seen anyone smile in a long time. 

The woman didn’t speak, instead, she lifted a hand from her lap and patted the seat beside her. Prompto was thankful that a puff of dust hadn’t formed from the action, while he knew he should be on edge, the thought of this woman having to be in his dirty room was somewhat embarrassing. Her hands folded neatly back into her lap, and Prompto resigned himself to standing on shaky legs. What did he really have to lose? Sure, this woman was a stranger. But, there was something about her. The earlier feeling of frost on his skin had trapped in the serene warmth of her presence, and with each step, his muscles seemed to relax minutely. 

“That was a brave thing you did, Prompto.” Came her soft, rich voice. Her accent was unlike anything Prompto had ever heard. It was so soothing, thick and it dipped and slurred in a way that was making his ears buzz. 

“What?...” He trailed off, sitting down beside the woman, an arm crossed over his stomach to support his ribs and shoulder. 

“It’s not an easy thing, to stand up for what is most important. And to do that in the face of evil is no mere feat.” She explained, the words sunk into Prompto’s mind, and the weight of them lifted his chest into an easy breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“Who are you?” He asked again, though he realized that if he never got the woman’s name, he wouldn’t be upset. But she smiled faintly, her head dipping in understanding to his question. A gesture he didn’t find himself familiar with. 

“You may not have heard of our kind. I am known as Gentiana, I am a messenger of the gods.” Prompto’s breath was once again stolen from his lungs. He traced the lines of her face with his eyes, she simply looked like a woman, though he knew that wasn’t fully true. 

“Why, why are you here?” Why would a messenger of the gods be visiting him? 

“Because I fear you may be the only hope Lucis’ people may have.” She said, and the weight of her words bore heavy on his shoulders. His stomach flipped and he could do nothing but helplessly gape at her like a fish gasping for water. 

“I, I don’t understand.” He relented, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat. The woman reached forward slowly, and with the crook of her finger, wiped a tear from Prompto’s face. It was a strange sensation, her hands were equal parts warm and cold, and entirely inhuman. The tear fell from his face like a soft snowflake. 

“You wish to go to the festival, right?” She asked, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Prompto looked down at his own hands. 

“I have to, if not, then Noctis…” He felt his lip quiver, and he steeled himself from allowing the tears burning in his eyes to fall. Gentiana moved from his side, standing up and facing towards him. 

“You show great compassion for the prince, it is relieving to see he keeps such good company.” She complimented with the hint of a smile. Prompto felt his ears heat ever so slightly at the praise. “But, what I want you to understand is that everything that is going to happen has a pre-determined course of action. Whether you go to that ball or not, the outcome will be the same.” She said, her mysterious answer shook Prompto to his core. 

“So, Noctis, he’s going to…” A hand was raised and he closed his mouth, waiting patiently for the lady to explain herself. 

“That is not your concern.” She said simply, and Prompto couldn’t help but blink up at her. 

“I, don’t understand.” He admitted once more. Was she telling him that Noctis was destined to die no matter what? Gentiana smiled and shook her head once. 

“Think outside of your head, Prompto. The fates are not working against you. We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time, and we do not wish for you to endure any more hardships.” She reassured, and Prompto breathed a sigh of relief. If what she was saying was true, then Loqi wasn’t going to succeed. Prompto felt his heart flutter, Noctis would be okay. But why was she telling him all of this?

“So, knowing that the prince will be alright despite your presence, do you still wish to attend the festivities?” She asked him, inquiring intently. Prompto chewed his lip, he nodded at her question. Of course, he wanted to. All he wanted was to enjoy the time away from his family. The lights, the music, and the events were so alluring to him. He’d imagined what it would be like to actually set foot in the Citadel, the place Noctis had grown up. 

But it couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t be able to. There was no way Ardyn would let him leave his room, let alone the property. 

“Then it’s decided.” She hummed matter-of-factly. And not for the first time tonight, Prompto wondered if the ethereal being had read his mind. And as he looked back up to meet her gaze, he faltered. Her eyes were opened slightly to look at him, he nearly got lost in the dark hazel gaze. He gulped and tried to avert his attention elsewhere. 

“What do you mean?” He asked timidly, the overbearing presence became more like a comfort to him, now. Almost like a weighted blanket was resting on top of him, calming his nerves. 

“You must attend the Festival.” She waved her hand and Prompto followed the gesture with his eyes. He watched as a draft of frosted breeze swept down to the floor where he’d been lying before, and carried the remnants of the torn invitation into the air. His mouth fell open slightly, never had he seen magic used before. It was enchanting, he watched as the shreds of his dreams swirled elegantly before him, before the edges began to shine brilliantly and the shreds were seared back together at the seams. The now intact slip of paper floated down and landed in his outstretched hand. He exhaled lightly and swore he could see his breath fogging in front of him. However, he wasn’t cold. If anything his fingertips finally got their feeling back as warmth spread throughout his body.

“How did you…” She shook her head, silencing his question gently. 

“It matters not how, but why.” She said, her mysterious air washed over Prompto once more and he shifted in his seat. “Why have you always been kind?” She reached out a hand and wiped another tear from his cheek. Prompto watched as the snowflake drifted on the light evening breeze blowing in from his window. “Why have you taken every horrible word and action unto yourself, despite repercussion?” Prompto felt an unknown emotion bubble up his throat, and his eyes stung with the recognition of his pain. 

“For everything you’ve endured, every strike, insult, and heartache. For every time you never admitted the small bubble of something that has always itched its way up your throat but never passed your tongue.” Tears flew freely from Prompto’s eyes, though as soon as they graced the air they were turned to gentle snowflakes until he had his own flurry surrounding his person. 

“And the yearning of your heart for another. I shall grant your wish.” She spoke into the air and it was almost as if time stood still. The flakes lazily falling around him slowed their descent. 

 “Every time my heart yearned for another…” He repeated, he was dumbstruck, not even sure if he was fully processing or understanding her words. But she smiled at him nonetheless. 

“For all of the love and kindness you’ve always given this unforgiving world, we shall return it onto you threefold.” 

“But, how? How will I go?” He whispered, and once again the woman shook her head and pointed down at the invitation. 

“I will gift you clothes woven from the silver lining.” From his closet came an old suit, one that Ardyn had acquired for him to wear when he was forced to attend the dinner parties with the other influential families. It was gray and frayed at the ends, though it was nicer than anything he had otherwise. Before his eyes, the suit was swallowed by swirling silver and white mist. And Prompto felt a familiarity take hold in his mind. There was something about this magic that had a nagging memory come up at the back of his awareness.  

“Wait, you…” Once again, he was in awe. Memories of a lecture he’d gotten from Ardyn about the gods came to the front of his attention. This was Gentiana, the messenger of the gods. Or, more specifically, the goddess Shiva. Whose body is still decaying in the frigid Alps of the place where he was born. A sudden well of guilt set forth in his throat. Why was Gentiana here? She had to have made a mistake. Though he knew it was rude to even imagine that a being such as her would make mistakes, there was no way this gracious act was for him. And once again, Prompto couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Please, stop. I don’t deserve this.” He spoke, his voice piqued with desperation. Gentiana tilted her head at him, stalling her magic. She said nothing, so Prompto assumed she was waiting for him to continue. So he took a breath. 

“I- my people are the ones who took your goddess away.” He breathed lightly, his hands folded tightly in his lap. He tried not to look down at the wristband that hid the worst part of himself, the ugly black lines that he knew absolutely nothing about. Numbers etched into his skin, and a barcode resembling something from a cereal box or other food item at the local grocery store. He didn’t know what it was, but he’d always had it. Loqi had a similar one, which he wore with pride when at home. Ardyn had trusted his brother with the knowledge of what the strange tattoo-like mark was. But Prompto hadn’t yet ‘earned it’. With a deep breath, he tried to keep his composure as if he needed to convince the being before him that he was unworthy.  “I don’t belong here, I never have. I wasn’t meant to be here in Lucis.” He felt his chest tighten because the only reason he was here was to commit a heinous crime. Whether he wanted to or not, a man who associated with the devil is not without sin. “You have to have made a mistake, because this,” He took a shaky breath. “This gift is meant to go to someone else who deserves it more.”

“That’s enough.” Her voice was solid and somewhat frigid. Like a block of ice, unyielding and completely stagnant. Prompto was somewhat relieved. This is what he was expecting, or rather, this is what he deserved. He expected her to take the invitation, and the suit, and maybe tear both to shreds. 

“You’re right.” She stated simply, and the light around the article of clothing grew brighter. Prompto closed his eyes and waited for her to turn the suit into ribbons. “You’re not from here.” She took a step towards him and Prompto tried not to flinch, though the atmosphere was still comfortable and warm despite the frigid temperature. He expected her to raise her hand, to enact some sort of punishment. 

“But, regardless.” She lifted his chin, and his eyes widened as she stared down at him with that ever-so-kind smile. His breath hitched in his throat, a wash of warmth settled over his shoulders, and it was as if all of his fear, his timidness, his guilt fizzled and vanished without a trace. “In the eyes of the gods, you have, and always will be, a son of Lucis.” She finished, and Prompto’s heart twisted, a new flurry of snowflakes overtook the area around him as tears fell from his eyes. 

With a bright, blinding light, the old ragged suit floated down. Renewed in beauty and color as if it were a completely different set of finery the likes of which Prompto had only seen in royal photoshoots. The trim was silver, the suit itself a creamy white. There was silver filigree across the suit’s vest and lacing up the mesh sleeves of the undershirt. The pants were a straight cut that looked like they would hug his body perfectly. He’d never seen such beauty, and he was hesitant to reach out to touch it. 

“You will go to the ball,” Gentiana continued, and his eyes roamed back up to meet her gaze. “You will dance, and bask in the festivities.” She pulled him to stand by the hand, and the snowflakes flew around him in dizzying swirls, he hadn’t even noticed that Gentiana had spun him as he stood, or that the injuries he’d acquired were nothing more than a dull ache at his movements. 

“You will fall in love.” Prompto was light-headed, whether from lack of breath or simply from the world spinning around him. 

“And, as long as you don these clothes, no one will recognize you.” She smiled, the suit floated down to lay on the bed where he had been sitting. He worried that the contrast would make the bed look dull, or that any dust would rub off on the creamy white fabric. Instead, the bed seemed to brighten, as if the blanket was new and somewhat fuller. And Prompto once again felt like crying. 

“But, there is a hindrance.” She said, her tone took on a grave lilt and Prompto’s gaze meandered to meet hers once more. Her lips were downturned. “For each night of the ball, you must leave before the stroke of midnight. For the magic only lasts so long before needing to be replenished. On the night of the third ball, the magic will end, and you’ll be right back where you started before all of this. Unless you decide to take action against this dim destiny.” She motioned to the room. The dust, the broken and creaking floorboards, the lack of decoration. Prompto felt his heart sink. He’d have to return back to this. But, he supposed that would be fine. If he got to enjoy Noctis’ birthday, whether the other recognized him or not, he’d be forever grateful for the opportunity that Gentiana was giving him. So, with a grateful smile, and a heart full of hope, he nodded in understanding. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, his voice was hoarse. Gentiana smiled once more, and what a beautiful smile it was. 

“Then, don’t squander these gifts. And remember,” She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his in a gesture so familiar and personal that Prompto felt nearly uncomfortable. “You’ll always be a child of Lucis.” She breathed those words like a vow before her presence disappeared.

 And Prompto was left standing in his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - I’m a lonely star (is there anybody out there?)

(Song lyric from Lonely Star by Oh Wonder)

The sun on his back was warm, and the light breeze swayed the grains of dog food that he was throwing out in the gardens. The ravens around him cawed happily at his offering, hopping around to and fro while pecking at each other playfully. He was squatted down, observing their behavior with a smile. The toes of his house slippers were wet from the half-melted dew on the grass of their lawn. He’d managed to slip out of the house without being noticed, the two men were preoccupied with scheming and planning. He’d even managed to bring his camera, and he was currently photographing the family of ravens at his feet. The bundle of nerves in his stomach was at ease from the conversation he’d had with Lady Gentiana the night previous. 

Prompto would’ve thought it was a dream. Had he not woken up and pulled open his clothing trunk to reveal the beautiful cream and silver-lined suit, that is. He’d spent a long while looking at the attire, tracing the filigree up the mesh sleeves as if he were trying to memorize every stitch. As if it was his purpose to dedicate every twist and curl of the silver lining to memory. He’d imagined what the ball was going to be like, despite the fact that he wouldn't be recognized by Noctis, which meant he’d be treated as a total stranger. And he most likely wouldn’t be given the time of day. 

But that was fine. He didn’t need anyone’s attention, he was going to be able to enjoy three carefree nights of music, laughter, and joy. He felt he hadn’t had anything quite that extravagant in a very long time, if ever. 

He heard a twig snap behind him and suddenly was set on high alert. He turned, his sharp, keen eyes peered over his shoulder, tracking the horizon until he caught movement. The glint of a rifle tip, the reflection of a scope in the early-morning sunlight. The hair raised on the back of his neck as he traced the tip of the rifle to its target. He gasped as he heard the bolt-action click a bullet into the chamber, even from this distance. His training set in easily.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to the family of black avians still grazing at his feet. He stood abruptly and kicked a mound of dirt, the murder of ravens went flying as a shot rang out, muffled by a silencer so as not to raise suspicion from the neighbors. 

“God dammit!” Came the shout from his brother as the stray bullet buried itself into a mysterious guard that grew at random from the rampant, overgrown garden. “You little fuck! Look what you did!” He shouted more, throwing his hands up and storming towards Prompto. The younger blonde stood with a fixed glare at the other, he feared Loqi a lot less than he feared Ardyn. Even if Loqi had technically been more physical with Prompto, it was different coming from someone who was not only near your age but also who was more or less the same size as you. Besides, Ardyn’s psychological tactics were no joke, and he was sure he’d be struggling with the trauma for many, many years to come. If he ever escapes it, that is. Assuming that Ardyn wasn’t going to get rid of Prompto as soon as he graduated. Because at that point Prompto would be out of the public eye. 

“How is it that you manage to screw up everything.” Loqi huffed with irritation, picking up a rock and chucking it in the direction of the ravens. Prompto crossed his arms and chose not to speak. He was thankful for his reflexes, for he hadn’t always been able to help this same family of woodland friends avoid this particular fate. And honestly, Prompto always felt guilty for it. He had been the one to attract the family to their grounds, and he was the one who insisted on getting them within range to feed them. It was a wonder that they didn’t immediately see him as a bad omen.

“Are you going to answer me?” He snarled, getting in Prompto’s face. Then his eyes tracked down, and they laid upon the black camera he kept on a lanyard around his neck. Prompto’s heart sped as the other scowled down at the object hanging just above his navel. He used the tip of the rifle to bring the strap up, the camera dangling between them. The barrel of the gun pointed directly at his sternum. Though Prompto was more concerned with the wicked glint in his brother’s eyes. 

“Why are you using this for such a dumb reason?” Loqi glared at Prompto, his face scrunched up in an ugly scowl. “Didn’t Lord Izunia give this to you to document your assignments?” He snapped, reaching forward to grasp the camera. Out of reflex, Prompto shot his hand forward to still the other’s. A move that was not backed by reason, as Loqi simply reared back with all the more anger. Prompto made to grab the camera, to keep it close to his person. But Loqi had grabbed the strap and was tugging incessantly at the piece of technology. 

“Let it go. You don’t deserve it anymore.” He hissed out, shoving at Prompto, who gritted his teeth and stood his ground. 

“Stop! You’re going to break it!” Prompto finally spoke, trying to take a step back. His foot struck one of the large fence posts left lying on the ground, and he swayed backward before attempting to regain his balance. Unfortunately, Loqi’s reflexes were just as good as his, which meant he took a split second to shove Prompto backward, using the momentum from the stumble against the lean male. 

He landed on his ass, his ankle twisted in a harsh angle that was sure to ache for the next few hours. The camera strap snapped at the piece of equipment, the only object that brought Prompto any reprieve from this nightmare went flying. It crashed to the ground in a series of small pieces, Prompto lunged forward but ended up with a handful of debris as Loqi quickly snatched up the biggest piece of the object.

“Oh, this is great. He’s definitely going to be pissed once he finds out you broke the camera photographing some stupid birds.” Loqi snickered, the rifle rested on his hip, barrel pointed towards the ground as he dangled the last bit of Prompto’s sanity on a frayed fabric lead. Prompto sat in the dirt, his fists trembling in anger. 

“That’s not what happened-”

“Who’s he gonna believe?!” Came the sharp, ear-splitting yell. Prompto was ashamed at the fact he had flinched. He steeled his composure and made eye contact with a small beetle weaving between the pieces of the broken camera. Loqi turned around, scoffing and shaking his head. 

“That's what I thought. It’s time you learned your place.” He spat as he walked away. 

Prompto counted nearly a hundred paces before he was finally alone. And unlike before, his tears fell in hot drips down his cheeks. Definitely not as beautiful as the wispy snowflakes that had graced his features last night. He sat himself up, looking down into the hands clasped in his lap. He was covered in mud up to his elbows from his tumble and desperate scramble for the camera. 

At least, he’d made sure Loqi thought he was grabbing for his camera. 

But the true precious item he’d made sure to grab, was the tiny black microchip that had all of the pictures he had of Noctis on it. 

Despite his tears, he smiled down at the piece of plastic and metal that was no bigger than his fingernail. He took a shaking breath before slipping the object into his shoe. Not wanting to risk it being found under any circumstances. 

That would truly be the end of his world. He hadn’t worked for nearly eight years to conceal his friendship with the prince, just for it to be found out the day before they were to attempt his assassination.

He had been punished. Though Ardyn was obviously too preoccupied to deal with him first-hand. Which Prompto was thankful for. So instead he was to clean all of the weapons in their artillery. This wasn’t a hard task. Prompto could practically do it in his sleep. The smell of the gun oil was a soothing scent to him, bitter and pungent, heavy on the air as he soaked a small rag, looped it through the dip stick head, and plunged the barrel of the last rifle. He was sure that the grease was probably coating his cheeks in thick gray matter. But he didn’t mind so much. He’d been doing this for about three hours now, whereas he was sure anyone else would’ve taken the entire day.

Prompto really had gotten off lucky, since this was supposed to be his chore yesterday before his ‘act of defiance’. Though he was miserable, the monotony and repetition of the activity soothed his frazzled nerves, and it gave him more time to think. Which often wasn’t the best thing for him. He tended to overthink a lot of things. Noctis often reminded him to ‘get out of his head’ whenever he was spacing out during their time spent together. 

Today, however, the constant swaying of his thoughts was very welcome. As they were all daydreaming about the Festival. The one that would be taking place the day after tomorrow. His heart thrummed a fine tune as he thought of it. And he wondered briefly if Ardyn would send him out to the store anytime soon, which wasn’t a possibility. But if it did happen, he’d be able to see the street fair. Vendors from all over Eos were going to be lining the streets with their kiosks and booths. He’d heard that there would be merchants selling anything from the crystals and metaphysical equipment originating from Tenebrae, to the very select businesses displaying vast technologies from the trusted companies of Nifelheim merchants. Though their people were at war, the king extended invitations to the companies that had vowed allegiance to the kingdom of Lucis. 

As he had said before, he was sure this wouldn’t actually happen. He was technically being punished. And he was sure Ardyn was trying his best to make sure he hadn’t any opportunity to thwart their plans for the ball. 

Prompto had managed to eavesdrop on one of their conversations. Which just so happened to be one of the important ones. Because reassurances of the gods be damned, Prompto was going to be keeping an eye out for his best friend. 

He’d learned that they were planning mostly on reconnaissance the first night of the ball. And their attempts most likely wouldn’t begin until the second night of the festivities. 

He hadn’t heard much else besides this, as Ardyn always seemed to know where he was at any given moment. Luckily, Prompto had been quick enough to cover the eavesdropping incident as if he was simply heading towards the office to report for his punishment. It was a double-edged sword that Ardyn seemed to get so excited over a punishment, that he lost interest in whatever topic was being spoken previously. 

With a contented sigh, Prompto began to put the rifle pieces back together. He had finally finished the last one, and the sun was just barely dipping below the horizon. He found himself eager to get rid of the days, with the prospect of such exciting activities drawing ever closer. 

He found himself smiling a bit more today, as well. Despite the altercation with Loqi in the garden and the destruction of his favorite and only hobby, he felt like nothing could sway his good mood today.  

After he’d finished the guns, it was time to prepare dinner. And, thankfully, Ardyn and Loqi had decided to take the meal in Ardyn’s study. Which meant Prompto was allowed to eat alone. He made his way up the stairs, careful not to spill any of the strew he’d just finished.

He sat on his windowsill as he ate, watching the sky change from gold to red, to dark blue as the hours ticked by. Stars graced the night’s cloak over the land, and Prompto felt at peace to simply sit and watch them twinkle back at him. He briefly wondered, for one, pessimistic moment, if stars ever counted humans. Despite the fact that their light, if they even exhibited enough of it, wouldn’t reach them no matter how brightly. Their lives just simply didn’t last long. 

The bowl was still warm in his hands when he realized he was full, which wasn’t a feeling he was used to quite yet. As a child, he’d been above average weight-wise. And Ardyn had blamed it mostly on Lady Aurum for feeding him to his heart’s content. Then, when she passed away, he’d put Prompto on a strict diet and training regime the moment he could. Prompto dropped weight faster than should have been physically possible. And sometimes, it was as if he could still feel the hunger pains; which were often his only companions on cold nights.  

Due to the diet, the weight loss, and Loqi’s harsh words. Prompto often reflected his bad mood onto his body and self-image. Sometimes, he had a hard time looking at himself in the mirror. The only time he took in his appearance was to make sure that his school uniform was worthy of the Code of Conduct, and that his hair wasn’t a complete mess. Other than that, he never let himself linger on one detail for too long. 

He knew it wasn’t healthy. But, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to change it. Not where he was now, and, if he was unable to leave this house, then he wondered if he would ever get the chance to change the way he thought of himself. 

He wondered what the person he would fall in love with would say about that. His heart gave a lurch, this wasn’t the first time he’d been stuck on that notion. He had replayed every word of his conversation with Lady Gentiana a thousand times, though that one sentence was one of the most note-worthy, in his opinion. 

“You will fall in love.”

She had told him this as if she were whispering the secrets of the universe. And just the thought of it had his hands clamming up. Was what she said true? Would he fall in love? And for gods sake… 

Would he be loved back? 

Prompto didn’t get the chance to dwell on that thought for long, as from the corner of his eye he saw a fluffy white movement. He tracked it as it scampered up the roof and he blinked. Was this the creature he had been feeding? It was now out of sight, but he could hear claws scraping against the shingles. He couldn’t help but smile, a visitor a night, then? His heart swelled, and, so as not to worry the creature, he left the window sill. Though he set the remainder of his strew on the ledge beside the empty bowl he usually gave the animals to feed out of. The bowl was still warm, so hopefully with his retreat the tiny creature would be willing to eat before it got cold. 

He tucked himself under his still vibrant blanket and watched the stars twinkle out his window. He caught a glimpse of a constellation. He wasn’t sure which one it was, he’d never been very adept at understanding the cosmic patterns lacing the night sky. But he found he liked this one, it was simple, with four main stars as the epicenter. They looked as if they were formed in a cross, equidistant from each other, and symmetrical on either side. It made him feel satisfied, to see the completion of it. Knowing that at least those four stars weren’t lonely, for they’d have each other for the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Crux

The rays of light filtering in through the windows of the training hall nearly blinded Noctis as he ducked low to avoid the great sword that would’ve sealed his doom. He was panting, and a bead of sweat was beginning to drip from his brow. His face was scrunched in a tight pinch of concentration and frustration as he brought his own sword up to take advantage of the opening at his opponent’s ribs. 

Bad move.

Noctis realized his mistake too late as his lunge was side-stepped, an arm was laced around his shoulders, his back was harshly slammed to his opponent’s chest, and the cold promise of a sword rested at his throat. Its blade tickled an unspoken threat across his skin as his hair raised. 

“You’re distracted.” Came Gladio’s words as he dropped the sword from Noctis’ throat, moving instead to put the younger man in an affectionate headlock. Noctis puffed out a sigh, he was still heavy-breathing from their training as he pushed at Gladio’s large, strong arm. Despite the fact he was being physically tested, somehow his heart sped even more at the contact. 

“Let me go, man.” He huffed, but a large hand was brought to fuss up his hair and Noctis’ annoyance was brought to a peak. He was already going to have to fix his bangs, but now it was going to be an even worse tangled, sweaty mess. At his frustrated groan, Gladio finally released him. Noctis had his back to the taller man, but he knew the other was smirking. 

“So what’s on your mind?” Gladio asked, sheathing his sword at his hip for the time being. This was a pretty good indication that the two were done for the day. Which just frustrated Noctis more, he wanted to blow off steam. 

“This whole Festival is stressing me out.” He manages to grit out, trying in vain to fix his bangs. Gladio snorted behind him, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. 

“Ignis up your ass about finalizing shit?” He asked, taking in the sharp tense draw of the younger man’s shoulders. He’d noticed the posture while they were sparring, which wasn’t any good. Noctis was completely drawn in, and Gladio had many chances to subdue him due to the lack of attention to each opening granted. 

“No, yes?” He sighed and shook his head, his dark locks swayed around his pale face. “It’s not Ignis, really. It’s just that there’s so much going into this. I can’t help but wonder if there's some kind of motive to it. They didn’t raise this big of a fuss on my eighteenth birthday, so why this year? What’s different?” He frowned, the downturn of his rosy lips was a motion that Gladio couldn’t help but track. His own brows furrowed, this isn’t the first time he’s shared the thought. It was weird that they were making such a big deal about the festivities. A thought burrowed itself in the pits of Gladio’s stomach and raised a discomfort he didn’t want to pay much attention to. He voiced the thought, hoping to get rid of its weight. 

“Maybe the king is trying to see you married off.” The verbalization did nothing but turn the feeling to lead in his abdomen. And again, he tried not to give the thought too much contemplation. Noctis outwardly cringed and put his face in his hands, his shoulders drawing up as if he were trying to hide the discomfort the both of them were feeling. 

“I really fucking hope not.” He sighed, dropping his hands. King Regis meant well if that was his sentiment towards the large festivities. But, regardless. As only a select few knew, the prince was uninterested in finding an eligible maiden. 

That’s not to say he didn’t want to find love. Far from it. He simply didn’t want a maiden. 

As far as Gladio knew, only Ignis, himself, and Noctis’ only friend from school were aware of this particular detail. Both he and Ignis could sympathize with the prince. Though Gladio did find interest in both men and women, he was sure that Ignis, much like the prince, had no intention towards the suitressess around the kingdom. He knew that they had both been approached by a fair few, and had turned down every single one. 

“You know,  if that is his intention, he most likely won’t stop unless…” Gladio began, trailing off at the glare he was receiving from the prince’s striking dark blue gaze. 

“It’s gotta come out at some point.” He resigned, his shoulders slumping. Noctis deflated as well with a heavy sigh. 

“I know, it just. Can’t happen yet.” Noctis mumbled. Gladio couldn’t hope to begin empathizing with the enormous amount of pressure that must be on the young man’s narrow shoulders. He could only imagine how big of an expectation the kingdom had for him to produce an heir, and appear ‘proper’ in his relationship. Proper meaning he had to be in a straight one that is. 

The both of them heard the footsteps before the familiar figure broke through the entrance to the training hall. The fading sunlight glinted off of the square frames upon the aristocratic man’s face. Ignis greeted them both with a nod. He was also tense as of late. The upcoming festivities and their implications had all of them on edge. 

“Noctis, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is set to arrive for the festivities tomorrow morning.” Came his deep and accented voice. Noctis’ composure seemed to lighten minutely. He’d been friends with Lunafreya since they were mere children. The young lady lightened the mood of the room with nothing but a small smile. Both Gladio and Ignis enjoyed her company, and they hadn’t seen her in quite some time. 

“Well, at least that’s something to look forward to.” Noctis voiced. He was really hoping to introduce his best friend Prompto to Luna, he knew the two blondes would get along. They both had similar atmospheres about them. Though he knew Prompto was extremely nervous about the idea. Noctis really hoped that Prompto wouldn’t let his silly notions of ‘plebian’ mingling with royalty overcome him. It took him a little while to convince the blond just to be comfortable with the idea of making an appearance at the festival. The notion of the overwhelming event’s implications still weighed heavily on his shoulders. But, at least he’d have the four most important people in his life. He was looking at two of them now.

“It’s good to see you smiling, Noctis,” Ignis noted, pushing his glasses up and cracking a smile himself. Gladio once again tracked the movement of both their upturned lips easily. Making a small note of the fact that both of them had strikingly pink lips, though separate shades of the color, they still contrasted well against their pale complexions. 

“Gonna join us for the second round?” Gladio asked Ignis with a smirk, Noctis’ smile vanished in favor of a tired scowl. Ignis lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at Gladio, shaking his head firmly as if Gladio was a child. 

“Noctis needs to rest. The festivities begin tomorrow. And we wouldn’t want his back acting up because you couldn’t restrain yourself.” Ignis finished and Gladio rolled his eyes. 

“Well, you and me, then?” He asked, his spirit unrelenting. Noctis seemed relieved to be dismissed from further training, taking the excuse as an opportunity to go sit on a bench in the corner. He’d been fired up earlier, and ready to test his body to rid himself of his anxieties, but after talking it out with the two he suddenly felt very tired.

Ignis eyed the tall man for a moment, before shrugging off his suit jacket and beginning to loosen his tie. 

“I suppose a few rounds couldn’t hurt. Best to be prepared for anything, tomorrow.” He noted, acquiring his signature daggers from the Armiger. Gladio drew his sword once more from its sheath and lowered his body into a defensive stance. He knew Ignis, which meant he knew Ignis was fast. So when the brown-haired man darted forward, he was prepared to parry what would’ve been a devastating blow to his abdomen. 

The two violently danced their way across the training room. Sparks flew with the sickening and sharp scrape of metal on metal as their blades crossed repeatedly. Their eyes never left each other for a moment. They were easily matched against one another, their stamina ran low at around the same time. They exchanged blow for blow rhythmically. Noctis watched from the bench with deep interest. He felt a well of something in his stomach as he traced their actions. Both men were quick and strong, and their reflexes were extraordinary. Noctis found himself lucky to always be in their company. Grateful that they were both so capable of protection. 

It was breathtaking, to see the way their weapons met one another. And the bend and twist of their bodies as they parried and lunged. The golden amber light coming through the tall vaulted windows was casting their shadows against the walls in an unparalleled mimicry of their actions. Every now and then, it would glint off of Gladio’s face, and light the man’s already-amber eyes aglow like molten gold or beaming sunlight. Noctis blinked the thoughts away, finding the actions familiar, memories of art galleries, and paintings in deep Renaissance washes came to the forefront of his mind. And he had to shake them out.

“Alright alright. Talk about tiring each other out.” Noctis puffed out, standing up. The two men were panting and sweating, though their actions did halt at the prince’s words.

“I would’ve had you.” Came Gladio’s competitive retort. Ignis took a breath, straightened, and sent his daggers back to the Armiger. Before he fixed his shirt, at one point his tie had been sent across the room, Gladio’s blade tip sliced through it on an upward arch that had nearly clipped Ignis’ strong chin. 

“I’m sure you think that,” Ignis responded, moving to pick up his overcoat from the benches, only to find that the short, raven-haired man was holding it out to him. Ignis took the offered clothing from the prince with a low ‘thank you’, as well as an acknowledging nod. And couldn’t help but cast a sideways glance at his retreating back as he walked away to wash up for the evening. A hand was clapped on his shoulder and he turned to see that Gladio was also drawn to watching the form retreat down the hallway. They shared an acknowledging glance. 

“He’s worried King Regis is trying to marry him off.” Gladio spoke. A tense silence followed suit. And Ignis nodded once, turning to face the man. The light was still barely creeping through the windows. The shadow of the sun’s half-disappearance cut the taller man’s honeyed skin-toned face in half. One amber eye was aglow with the retreating light. And Ignis couldn’t help but mourn the loss. 

“I suspected as much.” He responded. His jaw tightened at the implication. Both men knew they were fighting a losing battle, fawning over something so far out of reach. And still, they couldn’t help it. The prince himself was oblivious, about anyone who had ever made an advance on him. Which, Ignis supposed, was probably a good thing. If not for Noctis’ ignorance of the atmosphere that accompanied all three men, then the dynamic would be thrown way off. Which is also why neither of the men pursued each other. Despite the invisible string tying their interests to one another. 

There was something missing. From their dynamic, that is. Both men thought that it was just the prince, who was beyond their reach. A vast sky between them. They could see his light, feel his warmth, but couldn’t come together as a whole. So they ignored what was between the two of them, as well. 

Little did they know that even with Noctis, their constellation would not be complete. For they were not Orian’s star-studded belt. 

They were Crux the cross. And they were just waiting on their Acrux. 

It was late, and Prompto was sneaking in a shower before the festivities began come sunrise. His steps were light, and luckily he was the only one who lived on the upper levels of the estate, so he could easily wash up without being found out. He wasn’t sure what Ardyn would do; if he would do anything. But Prompto didn’t want to risk him getting suspicious of Prompto’s intentions to sneak out for the ball the next night. 

He tried not to catch sight of himself in the mirrors. And this estate had a lot of them. The other two men who resided here were quite vane and insisted on mirrors being a staple of the house. This was bothersome for Prompto. However, he worried he himself would’ve grown to be just as pig-headed had they not flung so many words and hurled diet after exercise at him growing up. 

Despite his best efforts, glances were thrown at his reflection, and his stomach twisted up upon seeing the way his now lithe and thin body was covered in cross-hatching dark purple and white stretch marks. Even if he was to someday leave this place, he’d still put quite a bit of effort into his appearance. A lot of his insecurity stemmed from the insults that had pelted him growing up, but regardless, he was healthier now as well. So he’d do his best to maintain his body in order to keep up with the health benefits, and maybe move past the insecurity part of it some day in the future.

He wondered, once more, if whoever he was to love come tomorrow, or the next days, would love the defined lines lacing his body like a thunderstorm of lightning across his hips, thighs, and stomach. He couldn’t find it in himself to call the marks beautiful, he wanted to, he wanted to rid himself of the negativity plaguing his mind. 

But as he stared at the conglomeration of lines, which almost resembled the nerves and blood vessels under the skin itself, he recalled every word that Loqi had said to him. And the way Ardyn egged him on. He had intentionally supported Loqi’s bullying, and simply called it motivation. Prompto wasn’t blind to the cruelty, he’d seen it for what it was. He knew it wasn’t right, for he himself couldn’t stomach the idea of doing anything like that to another person, not even Loqi. He simply couldn’t bring himself to turn his hatred for the two men into malevolence or ill-intent. 

His eyes traced up his body, catching on every line, and mole that dotted his pale skin in blemishes that most would turn away from, including himself. Until his gaze rested on his face. He took in the sharp line of his jaw, the raised peak of his cheekbones, and the sharp point at the corners of his eyes. He’d been told that he looked impish and mischievous. It often earned him a predisposition in the sense of a bad reputation in school. Most authority figures just didn’t trust him right off the bat. He had learned over the years to forcefully sway their thinking by working hard to get the best grades he could, he’d had to kiss a lot of ass just so he wouldn’t be suspected once someone decided to pull a prank. 

He supposed it also had something to do with his… other traits. His eyes shifted up to his pale, blond hair. Not very many people around here have light hair. Even Loqi’s blond locks were dimmed down to a mousy, nearly brownish color. The signature of his people, his homeland, and the source of a lot of looks and jabs towards his appearance growing up surrounded by people who were local to Lucis. It was a wonder that Noctis had actually started considering him a friend, a lot of his teasing had suddenly stopped upon the kindling of his friendship. Which he was thankful for. He was also thankful that Loqi had been homeschooled by Ardyn, or else they would’ve been in the same school. Even though he would’ve been a senior when Prompto was a freshman. Luckily, Ardyn couldn’t stand his presence enough to actually put effort into homeschooling Prompto as well. This meant that he could go to the private school, which Ardyn had picked specifically when he had heard the prince was insisting on attending the school instead of his personal lessons. So Prompto was to document the prince’s actions, academics, and advances throughout his life. 

Prompto took one last look at himself, right in his eyes. The vibrance of his pale blue eyes solidified his ethnic features to Nifelheim. And with that, Prompto nearly threw himself into the hot jets of the shower. Lest he spend the rest of the night with negativity clouding his judgment. 

He kept wondering if his love would see past his features, and find a trace of beauty within him. Hoped, even, that they would overlook everything that screamed Nifelheim , and danger . And just see Prompto.