#ardyn week

Thank the Astrals, he seems pretty normal, you think and let out a relieved sigh. It’s audible enough for the people standing closest to hear and it earns some wry smiles.

The woman, who you call your mother, sends a stern look at your direction, and you look back with an apology as her brows knit lightly together. She doesn’t dare to show any more of that hideous frown in the company you’re currently in.

Your attention turns back to the man standing on the other side of the ballroom. His posture is straight, and the way he carries himself emits an aura of regality and importance. Yet, the way how his shoulders shake from polite laughter diminishes every bit of intimidating aspect he might have.

“Ardyn Lucis Caelum,” he introduced himself to you on the previous day, “At your service.”

You’re not exactly sure how to employ that service he talked about, despite knowing it was just a figure of speech. This is, after all, only your second meeting with him.

And it’s the engagement party of you two.

You swirl the expensive champagne in the flute that you’re holding with two fingers. It’s bitter and dry, not at all to your tastes, but no one seems to care what the future bride wants. You take a sip as elegantly as you’ve been taught to, and grimace inwardly at the taste before swallowing.

People are examining, judging and scrutinizing your every motion and expression, trying to find a hint of discomfort in your easy smile that is a façade.

“Only one glass,” you mother made you swear before the beginning of the ball.

You make your way past the dance floor, not paying much attention to the pairs dancing to the soft violin tunes. The man standing straight ahead of you is blissfully unaware of your approaching steps. You stare at his dark auburn locks, floating airily around, and wonder how a person who is part of the royal family of Lucis can hold such a… tousled look. It breaks the thin smile on your lips into a more genuine one, but only for a flash.

Finally reaching Ardyn, you place your hand gently on his back. As you smile gracefully to the people he is holding a conversation with, you fail to notice the shiver that travels through his body at the touch.

Ardyn turns to look at you, an identical easy smile to yours on his features as he regards you. But his mind is as much full of wonder as yours.

“Ah, here she is – my lovely bride!”

Your expression doesn’t waver at the words, though the look in your eyes glazes for a second. I’ll get used to it, is the reminder you’ve been repeating for the better part of your past-engagement-announcement life.

Ardyn takes your hand and places a soft kiss on your gloved knuckles. You turn to smile sweetly at your guests; to make sure everyone sees how happy you are about this marriage, and how pleased you are, that your fiancé is such a gentleman.

It is wearing you down, but you endure the evening knowing it will soon be over.

This is the role you were grown and groomed into, and you have accepted that over the years. Things could be worse, you suppose. Peering at Ardyn from under your painted lashes, you feel actually quite relieved that he is not repulsive at first sight or obnoxious in any way. In fact, Ardyn seems to be everything a noble woman could want in a husband, and you wonder for the hundredth time why he has not taken a wife before you.

Of course, him taking you as a wife has nothing do with you. That decision was not yours to make. Your parents were the ones to offer your hand in marriage to the faraway kingdom of Lucis. Thinking you would end up marrying the crown prince, but then hearing that your groom-to-be was the King’s young and handsome uncle came as huge surprise.

Your first reaction was that he is way too old for you. In political marriages such insignificances as age differences are not considered at all. So you kept your mouth shut, and with bated breath and crossed fingers walked into the room where you met Ardyn for the first time.

For once, the Astrals seem to have shown mercy to you. You snatch another flute of the horrible champagne from a waiter that passes, and continue to feign interest to the story one of the noble men is telling in your little group.

Sometimes Ardyn’s gaze flicks over to you and you hold his arm for the latter part of the evening. You’re complete strangers, yet you’re resolute to appear as a happy couple to the audience of nobles. Such is the gist in an arranged marriage.

At least he smells nice, you think, hold the porcelain smile and take another sip of champagne.

The wedding reception is as boring as it is official. The whole of Zegnautus Keep is decorated for the occasion. Everything is as grand as expected for the Emperor’s granddaughter. The guests smile with hurting cheeks through the endless speeches, while you sit still in your absolutely beautiful wedding gown next to Ardyn.

He doesn’t look bad at all. In fact, you’re starting to think he is actually really handsome and interesting in his own way. His features are rather striking and the suit of the groom fits him and his smile like a glove. Ardyn is definitely a charmer and you could lose yourself for days in those amber eyes of his.

It seems that the line of Lucis is swimming in the deep end of the gene pool, you think, looking at His Majesty, Regis Lucis Caelum, sitting next to the Emperor. The King looks like he is fighting a yawn and the thought makes you almost ruin your lipstick by tugging a lip between your teeth.

“I’m pleased to say – to hope – that this union shall strengthen the ties between our two nations–“ You pick up some words from your grandfather’s utterly boring and unnecessarily long speech. Staring at Ardyn’s profile once again, you let your mind wander.

Things could be worse, you ponder again. Ardyn shifts his eyes to take a look at you and your heart flutters at the eye contact. At least you’re capable of feeling some joy in the situation – it’s your wedding after all.

Three days later, you find yourself and your luggage in the middle of one of the quarters in the Citadel. You should have expected to move into the royal palace of Insomnia, but still you can’t tear your eyes off of the dark marble surfaces and wall-high windows of the room. The nightly city spreads along with its shimmering lights to the horizon in every direction.

You first proper conversation with your new husband was in the train on the way to Lucis. There you shared the most important surface points of each other’s lives. Ardyn told you about the everyday life in Insomnia, sparing no detail and answering meticulously to all your questions, and he told you what to expect when you arrive. In return, you told him about your life in Gralea, even though it felt pointless as it was in the past now.

It’s a relief that he is so easy to talk to, your thoughts remind you, but a faint sigh escapes into the empty room.

You shed your coat over the back of an armchair and walk over to the view. The window surface is cool to the touch as you rest your forehead against it, and your breaths make oval-shaped blurred areas that dissipate quickly.

“So this is my home now…” you say quietly, despite knowing that you’re alone. The trip from Gralea was long and tiring, but Ardyn still had to leave immediately to take care of some business for the kingdom.

You have not had a moment alone with him yet and it makes you feel a tad uneasy. The only kiss you have shared was at the altar – a chaste, but surprisingly pleasant one. And also your first kiss. The wedding night – against all odds and expectations – ended up with you both sleeping on your own sides of the bed. Maybe you should have tried the punch after all.

You try to gather your thoughts and remember all your mother’s teachings about how to be a good wife. Ever since the announcement of your marriage to Ardyn, she had not shut up about those. Calming embraces and salutation kisses muddle inside your mind, when you think about how to seize the opportunity to put the advice into action. Somehow you feel that the success of the marriage rests mostly on your shoulders. Ardyn has been nothing but polite and kind to you, but you could use a little spark. Especially in the bedroom.

It doesn’t take even a day for you to find out that while you’re married in the eyes of the Gods, Ardyn is married to his work as well. And while he has his work in the Council of Lucis, it quickly becomes painfully apparent that there are no other expectations of you than to possess a clean public image. In the local rags you’re already deemed as the prize wife – doomed to live in luxurious despair.

Little do they know, you ponder, swirling the spoon in your cup of choice beverage in the morning’s first light. You woke up as early as you did just to wish Ardyn a good day, but he left before you could give him that kiss on the cheek.

Maybe he is just that shy? You have nothing but time to figure things out, but it’s not that easy for you. You’re practically alone in Insomnia – no handmaidens, no friends and you can’t use this device they call a mobile phone for the death of you.

“Call me whenever you need, my dear,” Ardyn said as he handed the phone to you before heading off to work, leaving you to stand dumbfound in the vestibule. That was when you should have given the kiss to him.

Your agenda of the day is clear: Ask someone how to the hell this thing works and… contact, you suppose that is the correct word for it, your husband. Just to remind him of your existence.

Since you have not left the royal quarters after your arrival in Insomnia on the previous day, you think it’s high time to show your face around the Citadel. Dressing up alone for a change is actually quite relaxing, even though your wardrobe is seriously lacking. The royal colors of the Lucis Caelum family are black and gold, so you make a mental note to hail those in the future in your garments. Most of your current clothes are white; such is the favored color of nobility in Niflheim.

Having to change your last name into Lucis Caelum never bothered you before, but when you repeat the new name in your mind, it does sound peculiar. More regal than Aldercapt, for sure, but like something from a fairy tale instead of real life.

You slip out of the quarters and look around. Immediately, the guard standing at the end of the hallway greets you firmly and stands at attention. You give him a gracious nod and try to look like you know exactly where you’re going.

In the elevator you get lucky. The crown prince and a serious looking man with glasses enter some floors before you arrive to the ground level. You have seen the prince on the news and he looks a bit younger than you, as does the other man. Thinking furiously about what you know about the heir to the Lucian throne, you remember he is engaged to the princess of Tenebrae, Lunafrena or something.

The prince seems a little too… boyish to your tastes anyway.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” you greet him and curtsy a little.

Prince Noctis and his companion look at you curiously. While you hold on to the ripples of a smile, the other man clears his throat meaningfully.

“G-good morning,” the prince takes the hint and greets you with a befuddled expression. His hand flies to the back of his neck, and suddenly the metal box feels a little too small for three people.

Prince Noctis seems like a really endearing person up close and it stabilizes your smile into an encouraged one.

“Uhh, you’re uncle Ardyn’s new wife, right?” he blurts out. The other man shoots him a bewildered look.

“Please excuse His Highness’ manners,” he says while burying the prince to the floor with his gaze.

“It’s quite alright,” you reply, continuing to smile to hide the awkwardness, “Yes, indeed I am. It’s nice meet you in person, prince Noctis.”

The elevator chimes softly as it reaches the ground floor, and all three of you step out. The Citadel entrance hall is bustling with traffic while the Crownsguard members keep a vigil watch. Everything looks so different in daylight, but maybe it’s just the sudden crowd that is making your head spin.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Noctis says, “This is Ignis, my advisor.” He motions casually towards the other man, who bows deeply in front of you.

“Ignis Scientia, at your service, my lady.”

You nod curtly. He seems a little stiff. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Where’re you headed?” Noctis asks with a tad raised brows. Maybe he thinks you look lost – twisting your hands in front of the elevator and looking around with wide eyes. In truth, you feel really lost.

Your eyes wander from the bustling people back to the prince and you let out a light laugh. “I was just going to look around since we arrived last night,” you explain.

“Alone? Where’s uncle?” Noctis’s brows furrow and his expression has a hint of concern. Ignis studies you intently with his gaze and pushes up his glasses.

The smile on your lips wavers just enough for the prince to catch it. “He had to attend to some important matters,” you say as nonchalantly as you can.

In that moment you feel lonelier than you have ever felt in your whole life. In Insomnia almost nobody recognizes you. No bowing, no excessive greetings or flamboyant gifts addressed to you to gain the Emperor’s favor. Here you are just another noble among the rest – at best.

Ignis clears his throat again along with a meaningful look towards the prince.

“I, uhh, if there’s anything I could do to help…” Noctis begins carefully.

You remember the mobile phone in your purse.

“Actually… I got this just today”–you dig out the device, painfully aware how you handle it embarrassingly awkwardly–“and I have no idea how to use it.” A light, self-conscious laugh escapes you.

Noctis and Ignis look at each other in utter confusion.

“Right, Insomnian mobile phones must be different from the ones you’ve grown accustomed to in Gralea,” Ignis ponders.

Ten minutes later you’re sitting in one of the lounge rooms that only the people living in the Citadel, meaning mainly the royal family and their related party, have access to. Ignis is patiently showing and explaining the most basic functions of the mobile phone and he is also kind enough to save his and the prince’s numbers for you, so you can contact either of them should the need for more assistance arise.

You end up spending most of the forenoon with the two men before Noctis is called away to have lunch with his father. You decline his invitation to join, made out of politeness, and head back to your quarters. You would rather have your first meeting with the King in Insomnia with Ardyn at your side; he is your husband after all.

Nervous and excited, you browse the new phone’s functions over again lest you would forget them. You pick Ardyn’s contact information and begin to type a message to him, as per Ignis advised since the Council members can’t really take phone calls in the middle of important meetings.

“I met the prince,” you type, “What time will you come back?”

Then you play the waiting game. Again and again, but Ardyn never replies to your text. He must be really busy, you think to yourself, but can’t help the constant frown tugging the corners of your mouth downwards.

A week past your arrival you’re starting to think Ardyn has a side hoe, so to speak. You would never voice your concerns out loud, but the man has barely touched you after the wedding. He does allow you to kiss his cheek as you wish him a good day in the morning, and he accepts your quick embrace when he gets off work late in the evening.

The fact that your marriage has not been consummated yet is starting to bother you. You catch yourself wondering does Ardyn really not like you at all in romantic sense.

I was promised a regular sex life, you think pettily and chew your lip. You’re in the process of filling your many wardrobes by spending most of the light time of the day out shopping. Insomnia has countless luxury clothing shops, but you must have already browsed through all of them in less than a week.

With a weary sigh you put away the cashmere sweater you were looking at. Wearing such a covering piece of clothing at home would do nothing to progress your married life in the bedroom. Your gaze flicks towards the lingerie department and in that moment you make a decision.

If your dear husband is not going to act on his needs, you will make the first move – or three moves if that is what it takes. With determined steps you pace over to the mannequin ahead of you. You might be a virgin physically, but your mind is way past that point. You have not been reading smutty literature in secret for years for nothing.

You make the best purchase of your life: A black silk chemise that hugs your curves enticingly. It’s the kind of piece of clothing that no straight man would be able to resist.

Never have you been so wrong.

In the evening, you pace around the quarters, getting ready to go bed early and trying to make that fact clear to Ardyn too. Your flimsy, basically non-covering panties flicker from under the chemise hem. You give ample opportunities for Ardyn to stare at you by bending down to pick something up you “accidentally” dropped or leaning slightly forward in front of him to reveal your cleavage.

“I’m going to bed now. Will you come to sleep soon?” you purr, leaning to the bedroom doorframe.

The man’s face is like a stone, but for the past fifteen minutes his eyes have not moved over the book page he is reading. “Yes, soon.”

You wait for an hour and unwillingly fall asleep before Ardyn steps into the bedroom. In the morning you wake up to him getting ready to leave to work.

“Ah, I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says softly and regards you with that amber gaze of his. There is no sign of restrained lust, nor do his eyes travel over your form as you sit up to stretch generously.

You take a deep breath and smile. “It’s okay. Have a good day,” you wish and lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. To your pleasant surprise, Ardyn leans forward and your lips brush the stubble on his jaw.

Well, at least you made some progress.

On his way down in the elevator, Ardyn can’t stop thinking about the black chemise covering your frame. How it would feel against his fingers, how it would look sliding off your skin, your heady scent floating into his mind… Burning red spots begin to cover his cheeks again and he changes the rails on his train of thought while he still can.

King Regis flashes an amused grin at his uncle, who steps into the room, looking inconspicuously casual.

Ardyn greets all the Council members he passes with an almost mumbled “Good morning,” and proceeds to take his seat as the second on the right side of the King.

Regis leans closer to him, good humor in his eyes. Ardyn braces himself to what is about to come.

“Late again, dear uncle?” the King says with an undeniable smirk.

Ardyn takes a quick look around to see most of the other Council members holding a similar expression. He holds back a sigh. If only they knew…

“Apologies, Your Majesty–”

Regis chuckles, interrupting Ardyn with a motion of his hand. “If you wish to take a week off to go somewhere with your lovely bride…” His words trail off meaningfully.

“Thank you, King Regis, I shall let you know if the situation changes,” Ardyn says and smiles politely. He doesn’t feel comfortable at all talking about his marriage in front of all these people. The marriage was meant to strengthen the ties between Lucis and Niflheim, but so far it has only succeeded in driving Ardyn mad with desire.

Whatever has he done to deserve such a radiant creature as his wife? Since meeting you he can’t seem to focus on work at all. Everything takes twice the amount of time to do.

“Ah, well, I do hope you will take her with you to Galdin Quay?” Regis asks with raised brows. He looks like he won’t take no for an answer.

Ardyn swallows a bit and nods. He had almost forgotten about the trip. “Why not?”

“Splendid! Well then, where were we?” Regis’s cordial smile turns to the other Council members.

Ardyn chastises his thoughts again for bringing your black chemise into his consciousness. How fortunate that I’m sitting down, he thinks as he crosses his legs and shifts uncomfortably on the seat.

What am I doing wrong? You let out the umpteenth sigh and stare out of the window, trying to trace the skyline in the horizon with your gaze. After finishing all the housework, meaning organizing your new clothes into the wardrobe and giving directions to the maid, you sit down to rest.

You’re bored out of your mind and even the prince seems to be busy since he is not replying to your friendly text message.

The chemise seemed to work, that much you have to admit, but your dear husband still needs more encouraging to drown you with his passion. You can’t think of a reason why Ardyn would dislike you, so you come again to the conclusion that maybe he is just reserved in such matters. Maybe he wants to get to know you before jumping into bed with you? Despite being married, there is nothing wrong with that sentiment and it actually makes you feel a bit better.

After mulling over it to the point it makes no more sense, you decide to continue on that path of seduction with renewed vigor.

It becomes a game to you, the only source of entertainment in your lonely new life in Insomnia. As days pass, you wear less and less clothing around home and enjoy seeing the look on Ardyn’s face when he finally steps through the front door.

Ardyn is not stupid. He realizes exactly what you’re doing and acting on his needs becomes just so much more harder, no pun intended, when he sees your revealed skin in the dim candle light that you have orchestrated around the room. He is running out of options and escape plans.

Warping down from the balcony of the second highest floor in the Citadel doesn’t sound like such a bad idea anymore.

The more you try, the more elusive your husband gets and you’re ready to give up and pack your bags. If only that was an option. For the life of you, you can’t understand what is wrong when Ardyn only makes polite conversation while you’re hanging around in nothing but a short silk robe.

You were ready to accept your fate in getting married to a man you have never even met, but this is downright torture. And it only gets worse when one morning you catch Ardyn fresh from the shower, wearing nothing but a towel on his waist.

The breath hitches in your throat and instead of an apology for the accidental intrusion to the bathroom, only a squeak comes out.

The man, your man, looks divine as his damp, auburn locks are dripping water and his muscles are on the display for you. Your whole face is burning. The look in Ardyn’s amber eyes shifts quickly into a dark one at seeing you and it instantly sends liquid fire pooling between your legs.

Oh my gods, you think you say out loud. You’re so ready to be taken right then and there, but Ardyn’s expression softens as quickly as it darkened and a hint of blush appears on his cheeks.

“I’ll be done in a minute, my dear,” he says as if nothing is happening. Your body is humming madly for him. Before you can inspect any possible prominences through Ardyn’s towel, he turns to grab a bath robe and hastily covers himself.

You wipe the drool from the side of your mouth and nod slowly.

That event makes you take one final, desperate action, which means extensive shopping spree in the fanciest lingerie shops in Insomnia.

When Ardyn finally comes home in the evening, you’re casually strolling around in black stilettos and ridiculously expensive, lacy lingerie. It brings you profound enjoyment at seeing how your husband’s eyes widen in shock and he drops the coat he was about to hang on the rack.

“D-dear?” he stutters, face flushed while you pull out the best innocent smile you can.

“Oh, hey. I’m breaking these in... What do you think?” you ask sweetly and pace closer to Ardyn. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard and averts his gaze.

“Uh, they look– good. Yes, they look… very… good,” his voice trails off into a mumble as his cheeks turn redder and your smile widens.

Just as you’re reaching out to touch him, he ducks from under your arm and runs to the bathroom. You stand still stunned for a moment.

“Everything alright?” you ask while knocking on the locked door.

Ardyn sits on the toilet lid, hands clasped against his chest and face getting steadily heavier with blush as the straining in his trousers increases. “Yes, I-I just feel a bit sick, I think I’m going to bed early.”

Your hand drops down. “Tell me if there’s anything I can do.” Despite trying to sound sexy, you manage only to sound profusely disappointed.

“Thank you, darling, but everything is fine. I just need to rest.”

You can’t understand what is going on anymore. Doesn’t Ardyn even like your looks enough to consummate the marriage? You’ve been said to be the most beautiful woman in Niflheim and you can’t even seduce your own husband.

With slumped shoulders you flop onto the couch and proceed to stare angrily at the television screen. You kick the stilettos off of your feet and wrap yourself in a blanket.

After Ardyn was done healing the victims of the Starscourge, it was quite common for people to show up with more and more people and animals that needed healing. Ardyn would usually oblige and heal babies, Chocobos, cattle, house pets... But the Cactuar, that was a first.