{⚜}

❛   w….what do you….   ❜     was the only thing that managed to slip out of his mouth before he could feel some sort of forced dig itself into his mind; bypassing any barrier he had up that would have otherwise protected him. he hated when this happened. when ardyn reminded him what he could do. he could feel ardyn infect him; poison to his thoughts as he violently shook his head to try and get some control over himself.

❛   out! ardyn, get out!   ❜    he screams, panic raising into him as he backs up to the wall. he dug his nails into his scalp to the point he knew he’d be bleeding. he didn’t want ardyn in his head. he didn’t want him to see what he knows. what he is. no. no, no, no this is wrong. this couldn’t be happening right now!

                                                ❛   GET OU̴T̷!̴ ̵  G̸̖̾͛Ȅ̸͇̕T̶͔̂ ̶̰̯͠Ö̶̟͓́Ȕ̵̢͍T̸̜̝͑!  ❜  

as he screams, he could see something being shown to him in his mind’s eye, forcing his second sight to the forefront beyond his control. he could see…. shibuya.

It’s cruel. painfully so. But Ardyn has long shed the visage of a kind man. What he does now was not brought on by some transgression or slight against his person, but pure interest into what if. The mere desire watch the man squirm. Images of the city he loved so dearly, the one thing he had promised to protect above all else-

He wasn’t one to show weakness. He would put on a play of a mere mortal yes, but he knew his own worth and would not belittle himself to such depravity and yet-

Royal weddings always had to be a public affair.

He did have an idea about guests, of course. His father was obvious and his friends. Then their was Iris and Clarus and Cor, all people he treasured.

“My best man, huh?” That was a difficult one. He honestly didn’t know. How was he supposed to choose between his closest friends? It would definitely take some thought. “I don’t know. Or at least, not a hundred percent. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto are all important to me. I guess I’ll have to make a choice. It’s kind of tradition for the Shield to be best man. Dad had Clarus and Gladio is like a brother to me…but so are Prom and Ignis.”

“Who says you need only have one? If those three are who you deem your most important, then by all means, have them all on equal standing”

“Tearing them from their throne certainly seems the fun thing to do, does it not?” He holds his arms out at his sides and turns to gaze upon this strange world. “Sure, they wouldn’t know who you are…at first. But everyone would afterwards and they’d certainly never dare to forget again.” His arms fall to his sides once more and he spins on his heel to gaze at the fallen king.

“Why choose though, Ardyn? Who says you can’t have both? This world is yours for the taking and it deserves every bit of the anger you’ve been harboring.” He walks towards the strange man and gets within inches of him. Standing on his toes, the God reaches to swipe a bit of the black that had dripped down the other’s cheek.

“If you do plan to take your anger heavenward, however, might I suggest having a God of your own to assist you.” His head tilts slightly. “If only to let theirs know that their divine power is not absolute.”

“And you are the man to do that with, to stand by my side and set this world ablaze?...Forgive me for my hesitance friend, it seems destruction is in your blood. How do I know that same wrath won’t be brought down upon myself?” Would it really be so bad? The gods had cursed him with immortality, but maybe a man not from this world would be able to overwright their judgment. Maybe this stranger was the only person who could help him, regardless of his true intent. 

“Yeah but they’re not as bad as the council. At least they’re just asking questions. The council scrutinise everything you say. I know there is supposed to be debate but…none of them have any solutions. They just like arguing. Don’t know how dad deals with them.” Honestly, on the rare occasion Noctis contributed to meetings, they tore into his ideas like a pack of hungry lions. “But yeah…I guess the people watched me grow up in a way. They’ll probably always think I’m a child, incapable of making decisions until the day I take the throne.”

Noctis knew he was a little naive, but he wasn’t stupid.

He didn’t mention the fact that they didn’t trust Ardyn – that was pretty obvious and he was sure Niflheim felt the same way about him. There was just too much bad blood between the two nations. Hopefully their marriage would help repair some of that – rebuild some bridges and all that.

“I guess,” it wasn’t so much that he was dreading the wedding, though he was understandably nervous. No. It was more the fact that he hated planning. He’d sooner just leave it all to someone better suited to making such decisions. As long as the wedding feast didn’t have too many vegetables, he’d be happy. “I mean…there’s not all that much in the way of tradition in all honesty. I guess things got a little more relaxed when dad took up the throne. Traditionally Lucian royalty wears black but we kinda do that anyway. Besides, I guess this wedding will be different, y’know, a mix of both our customs.”

“Yes, the empire will be eager to have a hand in the preparations but rest assured, I will try my best to reign in the more abhorrent of suggestions”

This was to be his wedding after all. He would allow the empire to think they had a say, but at the end of the day Ardyn had worked hard for this, and he intended for it to go off without an issue. “I’ve been told I look quite fetching in black. Luckily the empire has an adoration of red. A relatively harmless colour combination. As for tradition there are speeches, usually the exchanging of gifts and power, but I belive they will take some liberties given who you are. Most are more applicable to more...traditional weddings after all”

Those between a man and a women, not a demon and a prince. 

“Your existence was meant to be wiped clean from the slates of history and yet here you are,” Kefka practically purrs. “I’m curious how loudly you’d like to make their failure known, but you seem so hesitant to let that power of yours come out. It isn’t as though they don’t deserve your wrath.” The world had changed but his family was still in power; at least that was what Kefka gathered from the books he’d had to dredge through to find this man.

“Your descendants still sit on the throne, you know. A reunion may just be the thing you need.”

He had yet to learn the true extent of his betrayal, how his one true love had known of his eventual demise and had just as easily allowed it to come to past. His anger towards Somnus was immeasurable, but the man was long dead, his chance of any true revenge taken from him.

At the mention his descendants still lived the ground beneath Ardyns feet cracked, turning sharply to meet Kafka’s gaze. He had been locked away for an eternity and yet Somnus’s stolen lineage had been allowed to prosper?

“...And what do you suggest, tear them from their throne and reclaim my rightful spot? If I truly have been erased, they would know nothing of me. I am just a ghost. This power you speak of, if I want to turn it upon anyone- anything- then I will use it to strike down the gods themselves”

They were the root of all of his pain. They had allowed his beloved to be stricken, had filled his body with sickness then cast him aside, had warped Somnus’s mind to reject him so.

“Yes. You get it. Meaning is meaningless.” At the second question, the smile vanishes from his face and that dark look seems to appear in those pale blue eyes once more.

“My own world is destroyed,” he responds with a degree (a very large degree) of vagueness. “The magic here is different but it smells like magic all the same.” And yes, it smelled. It smelled like rot and it seeped from the ancient man’s clothing as though it were some type of plague. But now Kefka would ask his own questions.

“Why was it so hard to find you?” He chose to cut straight to the point. What was the use in beating around the bush when the other was so clearly lost in the first place. What did Ardyn really have to look forward to in this world that was so worth keeping secrets? He’d been buried in the annals of time with only vague mentions scattered throughout. It had taken someone with the insanity and the stubborness to put the pieces together and find him.

“Who wanted you hidden so badly and why?”

“...Subtle is not your forte’ is it my friend”

It’s not as if Ardyn didn’t expect the man to have questions but having to answer them was another story all together. He gives pause, choosing how he wished to answer, quelling down the rising anger.

“My brother, Somnus. He thought me a demon and cast me aside from my home, hid me away to rot for all eternity. I was healer- a great darkness had taken over my homeland but I held the power to alleviate their pain by taking it into my own body; In doing so the gods thought me corrupted, they too stripped me of my title and allowed my name to be stricken from history”

As he speaks the ground beneath his feet bubbles in black mesma, Ardyn struggling to contain his form, speaking his story out loud causing bile to rise up at the back of his throat.

He had been dreading their public speech ever since it was announced. He’d never been a fan of speeches – Ignis assured him he’d get better. His father hadn’t been an expect at turning a phrase when he first took the throne, after all. He supposed he was lucky that Ardyn had such a way with words, though some would argue that people with silver tongue’s were some of the most dangerous. Sometimes they could answer a question in such a way that they gave away nothing and yet the interviewer was still satisfied.

He was dressed in his best suit, Lucian black, with plate of armour covering his shoulder and the clasps securing his cape, embellished with gold. Clarus had told him he looked the spitting image of his father when he was younger except his eyes – he had his mother’s eyes. It was all a bit over the top for someone who preferred casual attire, but this was a big day and a very important speech.

For that reason, he let Ardyn do most of the talking where possible. He couldn’t let him do all of it of course – that would look bad and imply, much like the interviewer suggested, that he was being coerced. He offered a slight smile for the camera and shook his head, lightly squeezing Ardyn’s hand, perhaps for support.

“There is no truth to those claims,” he assured them, voice firm and unwavering despite the nerves. “It is not unusual to marry at my age. I believe my father was only a few years older, himself. This war has been going on for longer than I’ve been living and countless people have suffered. I admit I acted a little rashly, agreeing to the treaty on the very day the Chancellor posed it, but I believe the fact that Ardyn insisted on a courting period before I made my final decision attests to the fact that I made this choice of my own free will.”

The journalists ate up every word, asking more questions and trying to delve deeper into how things would progress but eventually Ardyn grew weary, and he could see Noctis was growing more Anxious so he lead the interview to a close. “Thank you so much for your time and allowing me to speak to your fine nation. We shall be deciding on wedding plans post haste and will be sure to keep the kingdom updated as things progress, but for now I believe it is best we get back to work, I bid you ado”

Ardyn tipped his hat, standing and holding his hand for Noctis to take, giving a small bow to the prince before leading them both off away from the interview. Once out of sight his shoulders slumped a little and he sighed, sweeping his hand back through his hair. 

“My they do enjoy putting you through the ringer don’t they? I half expected them to ask to see you stripped nude, to assure I hadn’t bound and forced you here on a leash”

As if to make up for the day without him, the fourth day was spent almost entirely in the man’s company. They ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together. At the end of the night, Ardyn presented him with gifts. It seemed he was really going to town with the whole courting thing. Not that he was complaining. He actually quite liked it.

On the last day when everyone gathered in the throne room, Noctis was dressed in a smart, royal attire. He was also wearing to cufflinks Ardyn had given him the night before, something the man probably noticed when he took his hand. He felt a little awkward, being proposed to in front of all of those people. It was different to accepting the terms of the treaty, more personal perhaps, yet there everyone was bearing witness.

That wasn’t Ardyn’s fault though. As a political marriage, that was how it needed to be done.

“I…yeah. I’ll marry you.” Ardyn smiles, softer then usual, lifting Noctis hand to his lips and placing a small kiss tot he back of his palm, whispering quietly for the boy. “You’ve made the right choice. Thank you your majesty”

He turn turns, holding his and Noctis hands aloft, a showman to the end as clapping slowly fills the room. People were....hesitant, still torn between the thought of peace and the prospect of having someone like Ardyn marry into the royal family.

The next two days are a blur. Arrangements are made and finally it is made public, Noctis and Ardyn having to give a joint speech to the nation. Ardyn sits to Noctis’s left, a place of a queen, holding the younger mans hand as the camera fixes on them both.

“You must understand, our countries have been at war for years, and for this to suddenly come out of nowhere....the public can’t help but be suspicious”

“Why of course, I expect nothing less. Keeping one’s own nation safe is the kings primary role- My husband to be has taken a brave step, a risk, in allowing me to try and seek out the peace both of our countries desire. I understand your hesitation, but I ask if you do not trust me, then please, trust in the wisdom of your king and prince, have they not done all they could to protect you thus far?”

Ardyns tone and words aren’t what the royal court would have approved for any public speeches but it cannot be denied, the man has a silver tongue. Approval ratings were coming in and while they were mostly steeped in doubt, a lot fo the positive comments were geared towards what people perceived as Ardyns showman ship and theatrics. While some found is disrespectful, at least with the younger crowd people were more open to the idea of a younger member of the empire, one who showed his face and didn’t hide behind an army, coming to try and seek peace.

Ardyn though, was decent but he was right about Noctis not being the sort to let someone win just to preserve their feelings. Video games, like fishing, was something Noctis was good at. When he was out fishing or hiding behind his gamertag, he wasn’t the Prince, he was just Noctis and that felt good.

He grinned and leaned back against the couch, allowing his controller to fall onto his lap. It was hard to not be smug even though beating someone as inexperienced with video games wasn’t really a huge feat.

“You’re not bad.” He told him. “I know all the tricks and special moves. Besides, you can kick my ass at chess sometime.”

“How kind, I’ll be sure to take you up on that offer”

Time passed smoothly as it had been doing so the last few days, Ardyn managing to skirt beneth the political radar, doing ehat he could to win Noctis to his favour. They spoke, ate and spent time together. After a day of doing something they each enjoyed, they had the day apart, a day of reflection where it was customary for Noctis to think over their time together, to allow the man some time to think over how things had been so far.

The following day was the complete opposite, Ardyn waking Noctis with breakfast, taking him out to lunch and then organising a lavish dinner when he presented the boy a gift of his intent, giving a pair of small ornate cufflinks designed like a black lotus with a silver skull in the centre, along with a book detailing stories of the old gods.