Noct looked up from the curry he was attempting to inhale just in time to see Ardyn saunter over to his worktable. The man had waited three days before checking in on him, which surprised Noct a little—He’d seemed so interested in his abilities before, back at the fountain. He supposed it had something to do with the sewer incident. No one wanted to hang out with a guy who walked home through tunnels full of sludge, especially someone like Ardyn, whose clothes always looked spotless. Just when he’d resigned himself to the thought that Ardyn wouldn’t return, there he was, standing at the entrance to the alcove, watching Noct heal the last of his afternoon patients.
Now, the professor sifted through the papers Noct had splayed out on the tabletop, which were covered in the healer’s own unruly scribbles. Normally, Noct wasn’t a fan of letting anyone near the table, but since Ardyn had written the notes in the first place, he supposed he had a right.
“What’s this?” Ardyn said, squinting at a page. “Left hand only?”
“Oh, yeah,” Noct said, through a mouthful of rice. “That trick you wrote about cupping magic in one hand and threading it through a wound in the other? Only works if the magic is in your left hand.”
Ardyn’s brow furrowed. “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten.”
Noct set down his bowl at the edge of the alcove—Neighborhood kids were paid to run down the walkways to return bowls and cups to food vendors, and the next runner was due soon. He closed the metal gate to the alcove and dropped a curtain down behind it, leaving him and Ardyn in relative privacy.
“Trapping me, are we?” Ardyn asked. Noct rolled his eyes.
“I figured you weren’t just here to watch me work,” he said. “Tea?” He pulled out a paper box and shook it slightly. Ardyn pulled a horrified face.
“If it’s that instant mess, I’d rather not.”
“Should’ve known you were a snob.” Noct pulled out a bag for himself. “So why are you here?”
It turned out that Ardyn had brought yet another book for Noct, this one full of details on the effects of the Scourge on the nervous system. Noct was taken aback by that—He knew there were scientific studies on the Scourge, but books and journals on the subject were supposedly kept under lock and key. He flipped through the book slowly while the kettle boiled.
“You know,” he said, “reading that anatomy book helped. It’s like… if I know what it is I’m treating, what it looks like… it doesn’t take up as much magic.” Ardyn pushed a chair behind Noct, and he sat absently, still skimming. “How do you know so much?”
“It’s all part of my life’s work,” Ardyn said, with a smile. He placed a hand on Noct’s, and Noct found to his surprise that he didn’t want to move away.
Over the course of the next few weeks, a curious change swept through the Citadel. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, the man meant to sit in on talks between Niflheim and Lucis in the Emperor’s stead, was rumored to have quietly risen from his seat one day, slipped out the door, and disappeared for the remainder of the afternoon. And the next. And the next, until it became clear to both the king of Lucis and the remaining ambassadors of the Empire that the chancellor had vanished. A search party was formed, guards briefed and deployed through the city, but all signs pointed to the possibility that the man had simply… left Insomnia.
The talks, understandably, fell through. Lost without the chancellor’s guidance, the rest of the envoy hemmed and hawed their way through allowing Lucis to take back the occupied province of Galahd. The press began to whisper of an end to the war, and talk of chaos in the ranks of the Niflheim army trickled down into the street gossip of Insomnia.
None of this bothered Noctis too terribly. He spent most of his afternoons healing his neighbors as always, though his clients did note that there seemed to be a companion with him, most days, sitting in the corner of the alcove. Sometimes, he could be seen speaking softly into the healer’s ear, or reading aloud from a book on medicine. Now and then, he would pass him ethers and elixirs, or press the back of a hand to the young man’s brow and smile.
Those who saw the man at the alcove could never agree on what he looked like. It was as though their memory of him faded the further they were from the clinic, until the man’s presence was little more than an itch at the back of their minds.
“Hey, Professor,” Noct said one night, as he and Ardyn were sitting on Noctis’ new (used) couch, drinking tea that wasn’t stored in a bag.
“Oh, dear,” Ardyn murmured. “You only call me that when I’m in trouble.” They were on opposite sides of the couch itself, their legs tangled companionably in the middle. Ardyn’s knees knocked into the healer’s lightly, a friendly tap.
“Not this time,” Noct said. “Mostly. But… what are we, Ardyn?”
Ardyn raised his eyebrows. “Well, my dear boy, you are what we would call a human, or homo-sapien, part of the—“
“No lie, I will pour tea down your pants if you continue that, Professor.”
“How much you love me,” Ardyn crooned, and Noct frowned. The younger man set down his cup of tea and sat on his knees, leaning between Ardyn’s legs. He saw with some amusement that for once, Ardyn looked almost alarmed.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “You’re always calling me dear and dove and ocean of eternal fucking bliss or whatever,”
“Not my exact words—“ Noct placed a hand over his lips.
“And we… It’s been nice. I have friends in the Glaives, people I know here, but you’re the only guy I can talk to who seems to know what it’s like.” He sighed. “Sorry, I’m probably fucking this up.”
Ardyn gently lifted his hand away, and Noct suppressed a shiver at the touch. “I believe I understand your meaning, dear one.”
“See? There you go again,” Noct said. “But do you mean it, or are you just being a—a weird fucking creep who—“
Ardyn tightened his grip on Noct’s wrist and yanked it back. Noct fell over the older man’s chest, and large hands moved to his waist while Ardyn pressed warm lips to Noct’s own. Noct didn’t hesitate—He dug his fingers into Ardyn’s mauve hair and kissed back, open-mouthed and a little sloppy but earnest. He savored the taste of him before he broke free and started kissing down the side of his neck, and grinned at the sound of pleasant surprise that Ardyn made in response.
“Easy,” Ardyn said, petting the back of Noct’s hair. “You don’t want to bite.”
“Do I?” Noct asked, emboldened by Ardyn’s shortened breath. He found a spot just on the side of Ardyn’s neck and bit down. Just a nip, to see what Ardyn would do.
Ardyn hissed and clutched Noct’s shoulders to push him away, but Noct could already taste something in Ardyn’s skin, something strange and bitter and foul. He placed a hand on the older man’s neck and probed with his magic, sending feelers out into Ardyn’s bloodstream.
Ardyn pushed him heavily to the floor, and Noct had to warp in order to avoid the worktable. He rolled on the dusty rug, wincing at the impact of his shoulder on stone, and craned his neck to look up at Ardyn. The professor was scrambling to his feet, looking more undignified than Noct had ever seen him, but it was too late.
“Ardyn,” he said, in a voice that cracked and broke. “You have the Scourge.”
Fill: 4/? Re: Noctis is the Healer of Lucis (Ardyn/Noctis)
Noct looked up from the curry he was attempting to inhale just in time to see Ardyn saunter over to his worktable. The man had waited three days before checking in on him, which surprised Noct a little—He’d seemed so interested in his abilities before, back at the fountain. He supposed it had something to do with the sewer incident. No one wanted to hang out with a guy who walked home through tunnels full of sludge, especially someone like Ardyn, whose clothes always looked spotless. Just when he’d resigned himself to the thought that Ardyn wouldn’t return, there he was, standing at the entrance to the alcove, watching Noct heal the last of his afternoon patients.
Now, the professor sifted through the papers Noct had splayed out on the tabletop, which were covered in the healer’s own unruly scribbles. Normally, Noct wasn’t a fan of letting anyone near the table, but since Ardyn had written the notes in the first place, he supposed he had a right.
“What’s this?” Ardyn said, squinting at a page. “Left hand only?”
“Oh, yeah,” Noct said, through a mouthful of rice. “That trick you wrote about cupping magic in one hand and threading it through a wound in the other? Only works if the magic is in your left hand.”
Ardyn’s brow furrowed. “Ah, yes. I’d forgotten.”
Noct set down his bowl at the edge of the alcove—Neighborhood kids were paid to run down the walkways to return bowls and cups to food vendors, and the next runner was due soon. He closed the metal gate to the alcove and dropped a curtain down behind it, leaving him and Ardyn in relative privacy.
“Trapping me, are we?” Ardyn asked. Noct rolled his eyes.
“I figured you weren’t just here to watch me work,” he said. “Tea?” He pulled out a paper box and shook it slightly. Ardyn pulled a horrified face.
“If it’s that instant mess, I’d rather not.”
“Should’ve known you were a snob.” Noct pulled out a bag for himself. “So why are you here?”
It turned out that Ardyn had brought yet another book for Noct, this one full of details on the effects of the Scourge on the nervous system. Noct was taken aback by that—He knew there were scientific studies on the Scourge, but books and journals on the subject were supposedly kept under lock and key. He flipped through the book slowly while the kettle boiled.
“You know,” he said, “reading that anatomy book helped. It’s like… if I know what it is I’m treating, what it looks like… it doesn’t take up as much magic.” Ardyn pushed a chair behind Noct, and he sat absently, still skimming. “How do you know so much?”
“It’s all part of my life’s work,” Ardyn said, with a smile. He placed a hand on Noct’s, and Noct found to his surprise that he didn’t want to move away.
Over the course of the next few weeks, a curious change swept through the Citadel. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia, the man meant to sit in on talks between Niflheim and Lucis in the Emperor’s stead, was rumored to have quietly risen from his seat one day, slipped out the door, and disappeared for the remainder of the afternoon. And the next. And the next, until it became clear to both the king of Lucis and the remaining ambassadors of the Empire that the chancellor had vanished. A search party was formed, guards briefed and deployed through the city, but all signs pointed to the possibility that the man had simply… left Insomnia.
The talks, understandably, fell through. Lost without the chancellor’s guidance, the rest of the envoy hemmed and hawed their way through allowing Lucis to take back the occupied province of Galahd. The press began to whisper of an end to the war, and talk of chaos in the ranks of the Niflheim army trickled down into the street gossip of Insomnia.
None of this bothered Noctis too terribly. He spent most of his afternoons healing his neighbors as always, though his clients did note that there seemed to be a companion with him, most days, sitting in the corner of the alcove. Sometimes, he could be seen speaking softly into the healer’s ear, or reading aloud from a book on medicine. Now and then, he would pass him ethers and elixirs, or press the back of a hand to the young man’s brow and smile.
Those who saw the man at the alcove could never agree on what he looked like. It was as though their memory of him faded the further they were from the clinic, until the man’s presence was little more than an itch at the back of their minds.
“Hey, Professor,” Noct said one night, as he and Ardyn were sitting on Noctis’ new (used) couch, drinking tea that wasn’t stored in a bag.
“Oh, dear,” Ardyn murmured. “You only call me that when I’m in trouble.” They were on opposite sides of the couch itself, their legs tangled companionably in the middle. Ardyn’s knees knocked into the healer’s lightly, a friendly tap.
“Not this time,” Noct said. “Mostly. But… what are we, Ardyn?”
Ardyn raised his eyebrows. “Well, my dear boy, you are what we would call a human, or homo-sapien, part of the—“
“No lie, I will pour tea down your pants if you continue that, Professor.”
“How much you love me,” Ardyn crooned, and Noct frowned. The younger man set down his cup of tea and sat on his knees, leaning between Ardyn’s legs. He saw with some amusement that for once, Ardyn looked almost alarmed.
“That’s the thing,” he said. “You’re always calling me dear and dove and ocean of eternal fucking bliss or whatever,”
“Not my exact words—“ Noct placed a hand over his lips.
“And we… It’s been nice. I have friends in the Glaives, people I know here, but you’re the only guy I can talk to who seems to know what it’s like.” He sighed. “Sorry, I’m probably fucking this up.”
Ardyn gently lifted his hand away, and Noct suppressed a shiver at the touch. “I believe I understand your meaning, dear one.”
“See? There you go again,” Noct said. “But do you mean it, or are you just being a—a weird fucking creep who—“
Ardyn tightened his grip on Noct’s wrist and yanked it back. Noct fell over the older man’s chest, and large hands moved to his waist while Ardyn pressed warm lips to Noct’s own. Noct didn’t hesitate—He dug his fingers into Ardyn’s mauve hair and kissed back, open-mouthed and a little sloppy but earnest. He savored the taste of him before he broke free and started kissing down the side of his neck, and grinned at the sound of pleasant surprise that Ardyn made in response.
“Easy,” Ardyn said, petting the back of Noct’s hair. “You don’t want to bite.”
“Do I?” Noct asked, emboldened by Ardyn’s shortened breath. He found a spot just on the side of Ardyn’s neck and bit down. Just a nip, to see what Ardyn would do.
Ardyn hissed and clutched Noct’s shoulders to push him away, but Noct could already taste something in Ardyn’s skin, something strange and bitter and foul. He placed a hand on the older man’s neck and probed with his magic, sending feelers out into Ardyn’s bloodstream.
Ardyn pushed him heavily to the floor, and Noct had to warp in order to avoid the worktable. He rolled on the dusty rug, wincing at the impact of his shoulder on stone, and craned his neck to look up at Ardyn. The professor was scrambling to his feet, looking more undignified than Noct had ever seen him, but it was too late.
“Ardyn,” he said, in a voice that cracked and broke. “You have the Scourge.”