The changes in Noct's place with Gladiolus took some getting used to. He perched on the edge of the couch with the nervous air of an imposter, ready to drop to the floor at the twitch of an eyebrow, and he kept reaching up to touch his neck, shivering at the tenderness of the bruises the collar left behind. Gladio watched him warily, as one would a wild animal, and Noct slowly and methodically ripped apart the breakfast roll on his plate.
"Noctis, have a care," Ignis admonished. Noct grinned at him briefly and lurched for his coffee.
"Technically," Gladiolus said, as Noct poured what had to be half a cup of cream and sugar into his drink, "You're still a prisoner of war. We'll have to put a magic-jamming signal on a tracker at your ankle when we leave the city, but it won't drain your mana like the stasis collar does. And you'll be held at the capital under house arrest. But not as... Not as you were."
"King Regis will see that as an insult," Noct pointed out.
"Yeah, well, he's lucky I'm letting him keep the throne." Ignis straightened a little, and the king gave him a dry look. "It's the truth," he said. "The way you were--the way I treated you--was unacceptable. My own father would have been ashamed. I'm sorry, Noctis."
When Gladio bowed in his seat, Noctis nearly dropped his coffee. He watched him for a long moment, trying to sort out his own feelings amid the wreckage of the past few weeks. Part of him still felt like Gladio hadn't been hard enough... But it was the part of Noct's mind that spoke in Drautos' voice, soft and insidious, whispering to him at every flicker of pain and flush of humiliation: Who set the fire? Who cost us the war?
Then there was the part of Noct that he couldn't push down, the part of him that fought against the isolation of the past two years, who spat defiance in the enemy king's face and tried to freeze his heart to cracking pieces at the battle of Leide. That part still raged, still hurt, and no amount of bowing and scraping could be enough.
Noctis sipped at his coffee, and settled for silence. The king didn't look surprised by this, and simply moved on, flipping open a file on the table between them.
"Now," he said, in the brusque, formal voice he used with his soldiers, "As I can count on your discretion, there's one wrinkle in the terms of surrender that we need to discuss..."
-------
When Gladiolus approached the table where King Regis waited to formally sign the terms of surrender, he saw that a cushion had been placed next to his chair. He kicked it aside, letting it skitter underneath the table, and bowed lightly to the Lucian king before taking his seat. Talcott rushed forward with another chair, which remained empty at Gladio's right as the others waited for his approval to sit. He nodded, and both delegations moved to occupy the benches along the wall.
"A matter was brought to my attention," Gladiolus said, when the formal announcements were done, "that required a change in section 4a of the terms of surrender. If you will, Your Majesty." He gestured to King Regis, who flipped through the folder before him and narrowed his eyes at the addendum pushed towards the end of the terms.
"We cannot afford to be lenient in this matter," Gladiolus said, trying to call to mind the way his father used to speak, as though there were no doubt that his command would be followed implicitly. "There will be full disclosure of Lucis' intel, dating back to ten years before the start of the war. The Intelligence operations you have in place will fall directly under our control. Failure to comply will be considered a breach of the terms, and will result in the dissolution of the Lucian monarchy."
King Regis raised his eyebrows, but did not respond. He had no choice but to comply--It was not the place of the surrendering country to argue their terms, and this addition was only an extension of a condition that already existed.
Gladiolus let his gaze drift down the line of officials on Regis' side of the room. Captain Drautos seemed to have turned to stone, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall. Gladio held back a smile.
"Very well," Regis said. "It is not unreasonable." He returned to the terms, and both he and Gladiolus were the first to sign their names. Then came the fuss and pomp of the top brass listing their own signatures beneath theirs, and the governor of Lestallum signed as one of the two required witnesses.
"Forgive me, King Regis," Gladio said, looking down at the last line on the terms of surrender. "The second witness is on the way."
He pitched his voice to carry over the wide room. "Prince Noctis. If you would be so kind?"
King Regis clenched his hands on the table as a slender, dark haired man in black rose from the crowd of attendants in the back of the room. His footfalls were soft as he passed the long line of Lucian officials, and if he noticed the way Captain Drautos jerkily turned to watch his progress, he gave no indication. He stopped before King Regis and King Gladiolus, and bowed properly, just at the slight angle a prince would afford to a foreign ruler. Gladio inclined his head, but Regis remained rigid and silent.
When Noctis leaned over the table between them to examine the terms, his hand only trembled slightly.
"Right here, Your Highness," Gladio said. Noctis' lips twitched in the faintest sideways smirk, and he slashed his signature across the page. Then he rose, bowed again, and sat in the chair directly to Gladiolus' right.
A ripple of sound rushed through the room.
"Very well," Gladio said, as the whispers rose to a roar. "It is done."
Fill: 12/? Re: Gladio/Noctis - war prize AU
"Noctis, have a care," Ignis admonished. Noct grinned at him briefly and lurched for his coffee.
"Technically," Gladiolus said, as Noct poured what had to be half a cup of cream and sugar into his drink, "You're still a prisoner of war. We'll have to put a magic-jamming signal on a tracker at your ankle when we leave the city, but it won't drain your mana like the stasis collar does. And you'll be held at the capital under house arrest. But not as... Not as you were."
"King Regis will see that as an insult," Noct pointed out.
"Yeah, well, he's lucky I'm letting him keep the throne." Ignis straightened a little, and the king gave him a dry look. "It's the truth," he said. "The way you were--the way I treated you--was unacceptable. My own father would have been ashamed. I'm sorry, Noctis."
When Gladio bowed in his seat, Noctis nearly dropped his coffee. He watched him for a long moment, trying to sort out his own feelings amid the wreckage of the past few weeks. Part of him still felt like Gladio hadn't been hard enough... But it was the part of Noct's mind that spoke in Drautos' voice, soft and insidious, whispering to him at every flicker of pain and flush of humiliation: Who set the fire? Who cost us the war?
Then there was the part of Noct that he couldn't push down, the part of him that fought against the isolation of the past two years, who spat defiance in the enemy king's face and tried to freeze his heart to cracking pieces at the battle of Leide. That part still raged, still hurt, and no amount of bowing and scraping could be enough.
Noctis sipped at his coffee, and settled for silence. The king didn't look surprised by this, and simply moved on, flipping open a file on the table between them.
"Now," he said, in the brusque, formal voice he used with his soldiers, "As I can count on your discretion, there's one wrinkle in the terms of surrender that we need to discuss..."
-------
When Gladiolus approached the table where King Regis waited to formally sign the terms of surrender, he saw that a cushion had been placed next to his chair. He kicked it aside, letting it skitter underneath the table, and bowed lightly to the Lucian king before taking his seat. Talcott rushed forward with another chair, which remained empty at Gladio's right as the others waited for his approval to sit. He nodded, and both delegations moved to occupy the benches along the wall.
"A matter was brought to my attention," Gladiolus said, when the formal announcements were done, "that required a change in section 4a of the terms of surrender. If you will, Your Majesty." He gestured to King Regis, who flipped through the folder before him and narrowed his eyes at the addendum pushed towards the end of the terms.
"We cannot afford to be lenient in this matter," Gladiolus said, trying to call to mind the way his father used to speak, as though there were no doubt that his command would be followed implicitly. "There will be full disclosure of Lucis' intel, dating back to ten years before the start of the war. The Intelligence operations you have in place will fall directly under our control. Failure to comply will be considered a breach of the terms, and will result in the dissolution of the Lucian monarchy."
King Regis raised his eyebrows, but did not respond. He had no choice but to comply--It was not the place of the surrendering country to argue their terms, and this addition was only an extension of a condition that already existed.
Gladiolus let his gaze drift down the line of officials on Regis' side of the room. Captain Drautos seemed to have turned to stone, his gaze fixed on the opposite wall. Gladio held back a smile.
"Very well," Regis said. "It is not unreasonable." He returned to the terms, and both he and Gladiolus were the first to sign their names. Then came the fuss and pomp of the top brass listing their own signatures beneath theirs, and the governor of Lestallum signed as one of the two required witnesses.
"Forgive me, King Regis," Gladio said, looking down at the last line on the terms of surrender. "The second witness is on the way."
He pitched his voice to carry over the wide room. "Prince Noctis. If you would be so kind?"
King Regis clenched his hands on the table as a slender, dark haired man in black rose from the crowd of attendants in the back of the room. His footfalls were soft as he passed the long line of Lucian officials, and if he noticed the way Captain Drautos jerkily turned to watch his progress, he gave no indication. He stopped before King Regis and King Gladiolus, and bowed properly, just at the slight angle a prince would afford to a foreign ruler. Gladio inclined his head, but Regis remained rigid and silent.
When Noctis leaned over the table between them to examine the terms, his hand only trembled slightly.
"Right here, Your Highness," Gladio said. Noctis' lips twitched in the faintest sideways smirk, and he slashed his signature across the page. Then he rose, bowed again, and sat in the chair directly to Gladiolus' right.
A ripple of sound rushed through the room.
"Very well," Gladio said, as the whispers rose to a roar. "It is done."