Well, Noct and Ardyn DID bust out of Insomnia pretty obviously, and that car isn't exactly subtle...
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“You and your husband enjoying the honeymoon so far?” Coctura, the one-woman powerhouse behind the Galdin Quay restaurant, smiled as she set about preparing Noct’s order: Two house specials to go, hold the veggies on one, extra rare for the other. Noct, who was leaning on the counter, slipped on his elbow and jarred the counter wall with his knee.
Honeymoon? Of course Ardyn would use that as a cover. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “The place is great.”
“You should go to the beach at night, if you haven’t already.” Coctura spun a sauce bottle in the air, and a little girl at the other end of the counter applauded. “With the daemons getting all… you know, lately, we’ve had live music every evening.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
Coctura gave him a sideways look. “Wow, you guys really are having fun, huh?” Noct was probably sure he was flushing at least seven types of red. “It’s been all over the news. Daemons are getting… weird. There aren’t as many of them, for one thing. And when they try to form, the ground does that churning purpley thing it usually does, but they don’t take a shape. It’s like they’re stuck.” She shrugged. “Dino took me out to see it happen. Says it’s the biggest scoop since someone spotted the prince last week.”
This time, Noct managed not to slip. He thanked Coctura for the meal when it was done and sizzling in his to-go boxes, asked for a newspaper, and carried both of them into his rooms. As he kicked the door open with his foot, he saw Coctura staring at him strangely, reaching for another copy of the paper with her free hand. He wondered if he’d have to send Ardyn out for food from then on.
Ardyn was lying back on one of the couches, looking like he was trying to catch up on two thousand years of sleep, when Noct quietly shut the door behind him. Noct set the food down on the coffee table and unfolded the newspaper.
The daemon story was front and center. Scientists were going wild trying to explain the sudden drop in daemonic activity, one woman kept insisting that it was tied to the way the days seemed to be getting longer, doomsday activists were popping up all over Insomnia… Noct whistled.
“Something the matter, Noctis?”
Noct waved a hand in the direction of Ardyn’s voice, and scanned the page. He groaned at the second headline.
“Shit. Ardyn.” He passed the newspaper over, and Ardyn raised both brows.
“Ah, well, this is to be expected,” he said. “If my death would be the death of the Scourge, cleansing it in me is effectively cleansing Eos. Why, are you having second thoughts, dear heart?”
“Look lower,” Noct said. He opened his box—No need to waste food—and unwrapped the silverware. Ardyn took a minute to read, then flipped open the paper and turned a few pages.
“I see.” He set the paper down. “Your Crownsguard friends must have told the King of your disappearance.”
“Kingsglaive,” Noct said. “There’s a difference.” Ardyn rolled his eyes.
“No matter,” Ardyn told him. “I’ve been maintaining an illusion over myself since we arrived. I can certainly extend the courtesy to you if it worries you so.” He twisted his hand in an odd gesture. Noct glanced down at himself, but he seemed unchanged.
“Is it something other people can see, but not me?”
Ardyn frowned. “No, that should have worked.” He tried again. Nothing happened. He rose, and Noct could see him concentrating, trying to pull from his reserves of magic.
“I can’t… It’s gone,” he said. “The Scourge is too weak.”
“Maybe you have your own magic again,” Noct said, trying not to panic. “Like mine. You healed me last night, right?”
Ardyn sank into the couch, looking stricken. “Perhaps I’m simply… tired. Gods, how do you survive, having to recharge every evening? It’s dreadfully inconvenient.”
“I get by,” Noct said, with his mouth full of steak. Ardyn groaned.
Still, they both decided that, just in case, they would order room service for the foreseeable future.
Noct was pretty sure that (with the help of an elixir) he could finish up by the end of the evening. The Scourge was reduced to a shadow in Ardyn’s body by mid-afternoon, and the trickiest part was rooting out what was left without getting too distracted. Ardyn lay naked on the bed, the light of Noct’s magic flowing through his skin, and Noct was reminded of their first trip together. Think of it like cleansing the fountain, he thought, when particles of the Scourge eluded him to slip through Ardyn’s bloodstream. He focused, drawing his magic out in a spreading pool, and placed both hands on Ardyn’s chest to remain steady above him.
A knock on the door nearly threw off his focus. Noct blinked light from his eyes, panic rising as the knocking grew more insistent, and Ardyn narrowed his eyes. A magical wall, crystalline like the ones his father built in their early years of training in defensive spells, crackled as it formed over the door. The sound was muffled through the crystal, and Noct looked down at Ardyn to find the man smiling wryly.
“It seems you were right about my magic,” he said. The wall of the room shuddered with the force of a blow, and Ardyn gripped Noct’s arms tight. “You’re nearly done,” he whispered.
“Right.” Noct tried to block out the steady pounding and sank into his magic again. He was chasing down specks, now, forcing them to congregate in one place as his magic drowned them out. Slowly, one by one, the particles of the Scourge burned out of existence. There was only a handful left. So close. So close--
There was a cracking noise, and Noct felt Ardyn’s magic shift within him. He was casting a spell, he knew, but he couldn’t afford to check. He lowered his hands to the last spot where the Scourge dwelled, and turned all of his will onto it. Ardyn let out a sharp cry, and just as the last of the Scourge was cleansed from his body, Noct felt a rush of wind, a sudden chill, hands on his arms.
“Wait,” he croaked, as the light began to die in his hands, in Ardyn’s blood, in the very air of the room. “Wait, I need to make sure. I need—“ The dizziness that came on the heels of a major working was closing in fast, and Noct could only loll his head back to see the familiar black and silver uniforms of the Kingsglaive. How did they find him? Coctura? Ardyn’s car, still sitting out in the parking lot under a protective awning? What were they—what were they doing with Ardyn?
Ardyn was speaking, but the sound came out warped and strange. Noct clutched at an arm—Crowe’s arm, good, he trusted Crowe—and tried to force himself to his feet.
“Easy, kid,” said Nyx.
“Another day,” Noct said, desperately. “I need another day.”
“Fucking hell,” said one of the Glaives. “What did he do to him?”
And with that, the tangle of limbs and the cacophony of voices overwhelmed him at last, and Noct fell into the dark.
Fill: 10/? Re: Noctis is the Healer of Lucis (Ardyn/Noctis)
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“You and your husband enjoying the honeymoon so far?” Coctura, the one-woman powerhouse behind the Galdin Quay restaurant, smiled as she set about preparing Noct’s order: Two house specials to go, hold the veggies on one, extra rare for the other. Noct, who was leaning on the counter, slipped on his elbow and jarred the counter wall with his knee.
Honeymoon? Of course Ardyn would use that as a cover. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “The place is great.”
“You should go to the beach at night, if you haven’t already.” Coctura spun a sauce bottle in the air, and a little girl at the other end of the counter applauded. “With the daemons getting all… you know, lately, we’ve had live music every evening.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
Coctura gave him a sideways look. “Wow, you guys really are having fun, huh?” Noct was probably sure he was flushing at least seven types of red. “It’s been all over the news. Daemons are getting… weird. There aren’t as many of them, for one thing. And when they try to form, the ground does that churning purpley thing it usually does, but they don’t take a shape. It’s like they’re stuck.” She shrugged. “Dino took me out to see it happen. Says it’s the biggest scoop since someone spotted the prince last week.”
This time, Noct managed not to slip. He thanked Coctura for the meal when it was done and sizzling in his to-go boxes, asked for a newspaper, and carried both of them into his rooms. As he kicked the door open with his foot, he saw Coctura staring at him strangely, reaching for another copy of the paper with her free hand. He wondered if he’d have to send Ardyn out for food from then on.
Ardyn was lying back on one of the couches, looking like he was trying to catch up on two thousand years of sleep, when Noct quietly shut the door behind him. Noct set the food down on the coffee table and unfolded the newspaper.
The daemon story was front and center. Scientists were going wild trying to explain the sudden drop in daemonic activity, one woman kept insisting that it was tied to the way the days seemed to be getting longer, doomsday activists were popping up all over Insomnia… Noct whistled.
“Something the matter, Noctis?”
Noct waved a hand in the direction of Ardyn’s voice, and scanned the page. He groaned at the second headline.
“Shit. Ardyn.” He passed the newspaper over, and Ardyn raised both brows.
“Ah, well, this is to be expected,” he said. “If my death would be the death of the Scourge, cleansing it in me is effectively cleansing Eos. Why, are you having second thoughts, dear heart?”
“Look lower,” Noct said. He opened his box—No need to waste food—and unwrapped the silverware. Ardyn took a minute to read, then flipped open the paper and turned a few pages.
“I see.” He set the paper down. “Your Crownsguard friends must have told the King of your disappearance.”
“Kingsglaive,” Noct said. “There’s a difference.” Ardyn rolled his eyes.
“No matter,” Ardyn told him. “I’ve been maintaining an illusion over myself since we arrived. I can certainly extend the courtesy to you if it worries you so.” He twisted his hand in an odd gesture. Noct glanced down at himself, but he seemed unchanged.
“Is it something other people can see, but not me?”
Ardyn frowned. “No, that should have worked.” He tried again. Nothing happened. He rose, and Noct could see him concentrating, trying to pull from his reserves of magic.
“I can’t… It’s gone,” he said. “The Scourge is too weak.”
“Maybe you have your own magic again,” Noct said, trying not to panic. “Like mine. You healed me last night, right?”
Ardyn sank into the couch, looking stricken. “Perhaps I’m simply… tired. Gods, how do you survive, having to recharge every evening? It’s dreadfully inconvenient.”
“I get by,” Noct said, with his mouth full of steak. Ardyn groaned.
Still, they both decided that, just in case, they would order room service for the foreseeable future.
Noct was pretty sure that (with the help of an elixir) he could finish up by the end of the evening. The Scourge was reduced to a shadow in Ardyn’s body by mid-afternoon, and the trickiest part was rooting out what was left without getting too distracted. Ardyn lay naked on the bed, the light of Noct’s magic flowing through his skin, and Noct was reminded of their first trip together. Think of it like cleansing the fountain, he thought, when particles of the Scourge eluded him to slip through Ardyn’s bloodstream. He focused, drawing his magic out in a spreading pool, and placed both hands on Ardyn’s chest to remain steady above him.
A knock on the door nearly threw off his focus. Noct blinked light from his eyes, panic rising as the knocking grew more insistent, and Ardyn narrowed his eyes. A magical wall, crystalline like the ones his father built in their early years of training in defensive spells, crackled as it formed over the door. The sound was muffled through the crystal, and Noct looked down at Ardyn to find the man smiling wryly.
“It seems you were right about my magic,” he said. The wall of the room shuddered with the force of a blow, and Ardyn gripped Noct’s arms tight. “You’re nearly done,” he whispered.
“Right.” Noct tried to block out the steady pounding and sank into his magic again. He was chasing down specks, now, forcing them to congregate in one place as his magic drowned them out. Slowly, one by one, the particles of the Scourge burned out of existence. There was only a handful left. So close. So close--
There was a cracking noise, and Noct felt Ardyn’s magic shift within him. He was casting a spell, he knew, but he couldn’t afford to check. He lowered his hands to the last spot where the Scourge dwelled, and turned all of his will onto it. Ardyn let out a sharp cry, and just as the last of the Scourge was cleansed from his body, Noct felt a rush of wind, a sudden chill, hands on his arms.
“Wait,” he croaked, as the light began to die in his hands, in Ardyn’s blood, in the very air of the room. “Wait, I need to make sure. I need—“ The dizziness that came on the heels of a major working was closing in fast, and Noct could only loll his head back to see the familiar black and silver uniforms of the Kingsglaive. How did they find him? Coctura? Ardyn’s car, still sitting out in the parking lot under a protective awning? What were they—what were they doing with Ardyn?
Ardyn was speaking, but the sound came out warped and strange. Noct clutched at an arm—Crowe’s arm, good, he trusted Crowe—and tried to force himself to his feet.
“Easy, kid,” said Nyx.
“Another day,” Noct said, desperately. “I need another day.”
“Fucking hell,” said one of the Glaives. “What did he do to him?”
And with that, the tangle of limbs and the cacophony of voices overwhelmed him at last, and Noct fell into the dark.