There will be time, there will be time

Generally, escort missions were pretty boring.

Or maybe boring wasn’t the right word. It was more like long stretches of boredom, followed by bursts of action and mortal peril. According to Cor, that was how all wars were.

More than boring, the right word was just…tense. Waiting for everything to go wrong. And so often, it did.

This run had been pretty quiet. But that didn’t do much for Gladio’s nerves.

He sent another glance behind them. They were in a two truck convoy—he, a Kingsglaive, and Cor in the lead truck, along with one of the Hunters driving. The truck behind them was mostly crammed full of supplies, but also held a hunter in the driver’s seat, a Kingsglaive hanging onto the back, and a medic in the passenger seat.

Not just a medic. Lilian Leonis. Cor’s little sister, one of the official medics for the Hunters and Kingsglaives, and also Gladio’s girlfriend.

Hence the reason his thumb was tapping restlessly against the hilt of his sword.

“Only about half a mile out,” the Glaive across from him commented. Nelly was the youngest one he’d met, closer to Prompto and Noct’s age than that of the other Glaives. She also wore her hair cropped short—marking her hometown as Lestallum—and dyed pink. 

It was the kind of thing that Gladio had assumed would get some second looks. But it didn’t, which was likely thanks to the way she wielded a mace that weighed as much as your average broadsword, if not more. Her sister being one of the bigwigs in charge of the power plant in Lestallum probably earned her a few points, too.

“Sooner we get there, the better,” Gladio responded, turning to scan the road in front of them. Still nothing. “Too quiet out here. I don’t like it.”

Nelly’s frown seemed to agree with him as she rose from her seat, peering over the cab of the truck to investigate the open road before them. Gladio, meanwhile, glanced back again—then frowned, squinting into the darkness. Is that—

The headlights of the truck illuminated an oozing patch of black for just a moment before it raced over it. And then the fist of an iron giant erupted from the ground beneath. 

The truck actually lifted into the air briefly before it toppled off to the side of the road. Gladio heard a shout, unsure if it came from him or one of the drivers. It didn’t matter.

He’d already leapt from the still moving truck, the ground skidding awkwardly under his feet before he charged toward the rising daemon and the unmoving vehicle. There was only one thought on his mind as he drew his sword.

Lilian.

Somehow, Gladio wasn’t the first one there. The truck was still a few yards away when out of nowhere, with a crackle of crystal shattering, Nelly was attacking the iron giant, pace slamming into its leg. The other Glaive was climbing out of the grass off to one side, limping a little but unfazed.

Gladio left the fight to them and moved to the truck. He heard tires screeching behind them—Cor must have realized what was going on, so they’d have backup soon. The truck was tipped on its side, held up by a large boulder it had landed on. Grabbing the driver’s door, Gladio yanked it open. The Hunter was unmoving, blood spearing his forehead. And past him…

“Lilian!”

“I’m okay!” Her voice was shaky, but he couldn’t hear any pain in it. She’s okay. That alone steadied the world around him. “Just stuck. What about Mike?”

The Hunter. Right. Checking his pulse, Gladio said, “Still with us. Let me get him out, I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“I know.” Whatever fear might have been in her voice was overlaid with steady confidence, and Gladio prayed he was worthy of it.

Drawing a knife, he cut the Hunter free of his seatbelt, pulling him out of the way quickly. With a grunt, he settled the man over one shoulder, then leaned forward to get a view of Lilian.

There was a cut on her forehead, which made his stomach twist, and she was wrestling with the seatbelt. “Hey,” he said, and when she looked up, dropped the knife, hilt first, down toward her.

She caught it, and Gladio forced himself to leave her to it, dragging the Hunter’s unconscious form away from the battle. Nelly and her companion were making quick work of the iron giant, but Gladio could see other shapes moving in the darkness. 

Too quiet is right, he thought.

Cor’s truck was already pulling to a stop next to them, the marshal himself vaulting out with his sword drawn. He charged toward some of the materializing daemons—reapers, scythes glowing in the darkness.

Unceremoniously, Gladio moved to the back of the truck and tossed the hunter in with a dull thud. He turned, immediately parrying an attack from an imp.  Another slash had it crumbling to dust, and he advanced, gaze sweeping the fray.

Nelly and the other Glaive had finished with the iron giant, and were steadily working their way through a stream of imps, skeletons, and hobgoblins. Cor had the reapers well in hand, the first two falling before him even as another surged up to take its place. At the toppled truck, Lilian was scrambling out, blouse torn and hair in disarray. The sight of her eased some of the tension welling within his chest.

But then. He saw it moving into view. A necromancer, complete with floating skulls and smoking robe. Weaving around the truck, on its way toward Lilian.

Gladio didn’t stop to think. Maybe his training kicked in, maybe it was just the knowledge that an incredibly powerful daemon was moving toward the woman he loved. But before the thought had even really settled, he was moving, sprinting toward her and shouting. “LIL!”

She turned, panic flashing over her face as she saw the necromancer. And then Gladio was there, careening into her and knocking them both to their knees. Pulling her close and twisting around, so any blow would fall on him, not her.

Shielding her.

But the blow didn’t come, even as the next seconds ticked by with agonizing terror. Gladio finally, slowly, lifted his head, turning—and saw Nelly and Cor handling the creature with ease.

They’d intercepted the daemon, and even as Gladio watched, reduced it to ash. Releasing a breath that shook a little—that had been close. Closer than even he liked—Gladio loosened his grip on Lilian. “Hey. We’re good.”

She looked up, eyes wide, face pale, following his nod to where Cor and Nelly stood. Then her gaze switched to him, and she let out a shaky, choked sob. “Oh, Astrals.”

For the first time, Gladio realized she’d been scared. More than just scared. She thought this was it. For both of us. Come to think of it, so had he. Without a word, he dropped the rest of the way to the ground and pulled her into his arms.

Lilian crumpled into him, halfway in his lap, and Gladio held her close, hand threading through her curls. He could feel her every wavering breath. “We’re okay,” he whispered, not caring that there were eyes on them. “We’re okay.”

“I thought—” her voice was muffled against his chest. “You were going to die to save me, Gladio.”

It was what he did. And she knew that, after all these years. He put himself between his people and the danger. Usually it was Noct, but he could confidently say he’d have made the same choice if the king was here.

Which…wasn’t something he’d thought he would admit to himself any time soon. Problem for another day, he thought distantly.

Aloud, he said, “Yeah. But we’re okay.”

“Don’t just yeah that, you—” she cut herself off, sniffing a little. Then she pulled back, enough to meet his gaze. “That scared me.”

“I know,” Gladio said, giving himself just a second to get pulled in by her warm gaze. Like gravity that harnessed the two of them alone. “But I was gonna be okay.”

She scoffed. “How?”

“I got the world’s best medic here.” Gladio grinned at her eye roll, then pressed a kiss against her forehead. “We’re all good. And now we gotta get moving.”

He felt her reluctant sigh, but she stood all the same. Because Lilian was just as tough as any Kingsglaive, and she didn’t need a sword to prove it.

Not letting go of his hand as he rose, she said, “I’m riding with you.”