#dad!clarus

Hmmmm well I haven’t picked what the reveal is gonna be, but I can throw out a few potentials-

-The first reveal would be ... probably Titus’s fault? By accident? I’m seeing like- Titus getting into a tiff with one of the Glaive doctors and it leads to said doctor walking, so they need to borrow one of the other Citadel doctors for checkups, and THAT doctor for whatever reason is running like- a background check of all glaives to see if they have relatives (maybe he’s looking into their medical history for potential genetic illnesses? Since most of Galahd’s medical records went poof) and the doc finds that Axis is a match for Clarus and immediately goes running to Titus.

-Who is kinda-sorta MONSTROUSLY protective of his glaive in this AU, so when he puts together Axis’s constant anxiety and the king always monopolizing him and Clarus in general acting like a jerk around Axis- Titus maybe sorta loses his temper.

-And by loses his temper I mean slugs Clarus in the jaw in front of Regis and Cor and says, “That’s for treating your son like *&^^*” which of course ENRAGES Clarus because EXCUSE YOU HE LOVES GLADIOLUS HOW DARE YOU.

-And Titus sneers and doesn’t see Regis frantically shaking his head in the background or Cor trying to say “DON’T” and snarls, “I’m talking about your OTHER son. One of MY glaives.”

-And Clarus freezes. At first in disbelief and then in growing horror as pieces get put together and Regis just sighs miserably in the background. Titus notices the misery of the king a minute too late and Regis says, “We were going to wait for Axis to bring it up.” And that’s when Titus realizes that CLARUS DIDN’T KNOW. He thought Clarus KNEW and that’s why he acted weird around Axis.

-Which means he just blew one of his glaives’ biggest secrets out of the water.

-Titus gives a very quiet “oh no”.

.

-Another reveal idea would be like-

-Clarus finally gets a talking to by Regis, not with the Secret but just how he needs to lighten up on the glaives in general, and then some Assassination Shenanigans happen and are thwarted by Axis and Clarus working in tandem and Clarus eases up on the glaring. And over the course of a LOOONNNNG time (like- a couple years) Clarus and Axis go from a functional work relationship to a awkward sort of friendship to “let’s share drinks over the IDIOT we have to guard because GUESS WHAT HE DID TODAY” and it’s ... it’s more than Axis ever expected, or dreamed of, and Clarus isn’t really what he expected at all.

-And maybe he gets braver, maybe he just ... lets his guard down. But one of the times they having a drink together, Axis blurts that he had a father in Insomnia that doesn’t know he exists. And Clarus perks up, because Dadding Instincts and Friend Sympathy, and while Axis chickens out a moment later he does grudgingly admit that the father is an Insomnian noble and Axis has always been afraid of what he’d do if he found out about Axis.

-Clarus is Righteously Angry at this Unknown Father and firmly tells Axis that any father should consider it an honor to have Axis as a son, because he’s dedicated and smart and hardworking and loyal and TURNS IN HIS PAPERWORK ON TIME which is a miracle in and of itself and Axis ... blushes and hides his face and Clarus kinda works himself up a bit, to the point of telling Axis that if his father ever DOES find out about him and starts causing trouble to come to Clarus so he can sort everything out.

-Axis is quietly dying inside as he nods, and after that drinking night, Clarus brings it up to Regis and Cor one time because HOW DARE this unknown father be a threat to Axis and then he blinks when Regis literally facedesks and Cor starts laughing hysterically.

-”What’s wrong with both of you?”

-Regis sighs but doesn’t lift his head from the desk, “I can’t tell you my friend. I made a promise.”

-And Clarus thinks about that.

-Really hard.

-A lightbulb comes on.

-“Oh,” Clarus wheezes weakly as he sits down hard. “Oh.”

.

-The third one off the top of my head is more ... cracky. It would be sorta like the second one, only Axis never breathes a word about his parentage even obliquely, but his KIDS know about it through overheard convos between mom and dad and they decide, in all their seven year old glory, to DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS. Because family is family right? Dad is just being silly. Grandpa is already his friend without knowing they’re family, being family will just make it BETTER. Besides they want a grandpa.

-Cue three adorable tiny Arra ghosting into the Citadel to talk to Clarus and finding Cor instead, and while they loudly explain to Uncle Cor what they’re doing here and Cor tells them that no, they can’t, telling Clarus is AXIS’S choice and his alone, none of them notice Clarus just outside the doorway slowly losing his mind.

-Then one of the kids spots Clarus in the door and is like “uhhhhh oops?” And Cor is a Die.

-Clarus needs to sit down.

(This is a sequel to “Those Who Walk Twice (Beneath the Blue Sky)” and a part of my reluctantly budding King’s Skjald-verse. Couldn’t resist throwing this out there cause I’m really quite enjoying the way Gladiolus-Thors gives all the adults around him a headache.) Tagging: @wolfsrainrules

   As Regis tried and failed to win a stare down with too-old amber eyes, he mused tiredly that really, he should have expected this. Gladiolus had made it very clear that he blamed himself for Noctis’s condition, that he believed his presence would have somehow changed the devastating events of that night despite the fact that Gladiolus was just a child. Regis should have known that the stoic eleven year old would find a way to follow Noctis to Tenebrae, with or without permission. Even if it meant folding his lean, tall-for-his-age body into the uncomfortable space beneath the back seats of the car where Regis wouldn’t dream of looking —he’d checked the trunk for stowaways, he wasn’t a complete idiot, but he hadn’t thought Gladiolus could even fit under the seats, let alone stay there for hours—.

     Gladiolus had even brought a pack of supplies and a sword —Clarus’s gladius if Regis didn’t miss his mark—, and was currently staring at Regis with the same ferociously blank expression Cor had always worn right before he disobeyed orders to go fight something he shouldn’t. Or, in this case, follow Regis and Noctis on foot if he tried to send Gladiolus home without them, “Gladiolus…”

     “I’m his Skjald,” snapped the boy tightly, the language of his previous life clashing harshly with the smoother King’s Speech that Regis could understand. A sign that Gladiolus was too stressed to be reasoned with —he never consciously used his previous life’s tongue around Clarus or Regis, only Noctis, otherwise it was a slip-up caused by exhaustion or fury or stress—. Gladiolus took a deep breath, one hand gripping the hilt of the gladius with white knuckles as he repeated slowly, “I’m his Shield. My place is ever at his side.”

     “You are only eleven, Gladiolus-,”

     “A king learns only when he has someone to lead!” Blurted the fire-eyed boy in front of him, “You said so yourself! I promised to stand by his side even when he stands still, that means I follow him, even when he is injured!” Regis exhaled slowly, trying to stay patient even as Noctis watched their argument with wide eyes from the back seat of the car. Gladiolus’s eyes narrowed, dark and sharp with a maturity he shouldn’t have mixed with an impulsivity he shouldn’t have been brave enough to follow through on at this age, “You’ve been fine with my guarding Noctis since I was seven.”

     “That was in the Citadel. Surrounded by guards who were to ensure you never had to fight until you came of age.”

     Gladiolus’s jaw tightened, “So now, when there are no other guards to keep him safe, you expect me to stay behind? You expect me to break my oaths because I’m a child?”

     Regis paused. Leaned back slightly and really looked at Gladiolus. At the boy who was already tall enough to be mistaken for a scraggly thirteen year old, with his father’s dark brown hair the length of his shoulder blades half hanging in his face from where it had escaped its customary low tail, and his mother’s amber eyes that were always too old for his young face —always too keen, too knowing, like even now the warrior he’d once been lurked behind that gaze, assessing and waiting—. Gladiolus was too young to wear the tattoo symbolizing his line, but his shoulders were set and his back was stubbornly straight, like he could already feel the weight represented by the inked-on feathers of the great eagle that served as his family’s coat of arms and mark of pride. Clarus’s old gladius was strapped over his shoulders rather than at his hip —better for an initial strike, better maneuverability for a boy who was too small to wield proper great swords yet—, he had the strap of a backpack bulging with supplies clenched in one fist, and at his side was a small pouch Regis wasn’t certain he wanted to know the contents of.

     Eleven years old and he already looked every inch the deadly, dedicated Shield he was supposed to still be growing into.

     Eleven years old and he already looked ready to kill and die for his future king.

     Regis closed his eyes and felt very old. I’m sorry, Old Friend, there is no turning your son from his chosen path. Not without risking Gladiolus escaping whatever minders Regis managed to find and taking off after them on foot, through dangerous territory and over unknown waters. He could not return to Insomnia to drop off Gladiolus personally either, he was on a tight schedule if he wanted to bring his son safely to the Oracle’s care without being discovered by Niflheim.

     Regis opened his eyes, “Alright, Gladiolus. You win. But you must stay close to Noctis at all times and do exactly as I command,” Regis let his features harden, a king staring down a subordinate rather than a surrogate uncle talking to a wayward nephew, “am I understood?”

     Gladiolus pressed a fist of his heart and dipped his head, “I understand, Your Majesty.”

     Regis sighed and turned back to the car that he had stopped in the middle of nowhere after Gladiolus had finally been forced to uncurl from beneath the seats from the pain, “Get in the car, Gladiolus.” Gladiolus eagerly slid into the back seat next to Noctis, who hugged his Shield Brother and chatted softly with him as Regis started the car and pulled back onto the road with a dull feeling of dread.

     That evening in a cheep hotel where no one would pay attention to a father giving a piggy back ride to his youngest son while his other happily opened doors for them, Regis set up the secure line and called Clarus.

     The phone had barely gotten out half a ring when Clarus answered with a voice tight from barely suppressed hysteria, “Tell me Gladiolus is with you.”