#dissidia au

The Citadel's been a wreck of tension ever since Spitfire and the prince went missing. Abyssus yowling fit to wake the dead brought the on-duty glaives running to find Sola's bed empty, phone still on her bedside table and all her shoes still in her closet, all signs pointing to an unwilling departure despite a clear absence of any sign of a struggle.

They'd raised the alarm, checking on the rest of the royal family and their retinue-

-and found Prince Noctis' bed as empty as his sister's.

Then, while Citadel security was swarming like a kicked anthill, spearheaded by a blackly furious Marshal and King's Shield looking for their godschildren, those guarding the Crystal had sounded the alarm.

Which is when they'd found their missing royals, via the Crystal putting out a hologram of the two like something from a bad science fiction movie.

Tredd hasn't gotten a decent night's sleep in four days.

If it's not the palpable worry radiating from the King racking up the tension, then it's the fact that the royal children have been summoned to a desolate world to participate in what's essentially a glorified death match on opposite teams, during which Prince Noctis is in nothing but his pajamas.

No one is ever again calling Sola's insistence on keeping her deployment bags in her armiger frivolous.

Though, if Tredd has to be completely honest, Sola's younger brother's lack  of proper attire is only a fraction of what's causing the tension. No, the bulk of it goes to Spitfire's newest Uncle and now youngest brother. The once-Chancellor of Niflheim and Captain's kid. Captain's kid who's apparently the Crown Prince's clone, created from a sample Niflheim stole how knows how many years back.

Luche had dipped out to make a phone call to Axis, because those are Arra braids in Ardyn and Nox's hair, and Axis had completely neglected to mention that his recent adoptees were Lucis Caelums, leaving Tredd to watch Axis' clansmen on this fucked-up version of reality TV.

Nyx has been teaching Spitfire the Ulric Dance ever since her Rage a few months back clued them all into the fact that Spitfire's as Sky-born as anyone can get without being an actual dragon - and seriously, Tredd is this close to shaking Nyx, the idiot needs to adopt her already, for Ramuh's sake - so he's in the room whenever he's not sleeping. Which means Libertus is also here, making sure Nyx does take the time to sleep because the last thing any of them need is the twitchy Ulric doing something Dumb, aided by Abyssus literally carrying Nyx out of the room when it's time to catch some shut eye.

Crowe's anxiously watching her girlfriend fight off various monsters and champions, fingers plucking at the rubber band Crowe's worn on her wrist ever since the Burning. This hadn't been how Sola and Crowe had wanted Sola's family to find out about that particular relationship, but Crowe had adamantly refused to be barred from the room for a second until Sola came back.

Luche, like Tredd, is there as Axis' braided brother, leaving the rest of the Fourth Regiment to attend in shifts depending who's on break, with Pelagia and her Third Regiment counterpart running everything because Captain is also busy watching this clusterfuck.

The Marshal's not left since the whole thing started - has he even slept? - but the King and Shield have to leave for short periods to make token appearances lest the entire country learn the royal children have disappeared into the ether. Gladiolus and Ignis have to be forced out of the room for their studies, which has apparently resulted in temper tantrums worthy of a Raging Sola, but the two young teens have yet to convince the King, Shield, or Marshal otherwise so the process repeats every day without fail.

Sola latching on to her new uncle and brother isn't a surprise. She's Sky-born, they do that. Especially because for all that the ex-Chancellor is clearly missing more than a few lines to his sails, he equally as clearly cares for and is protective of his niece and nephews, despite his distaste for Regis and Mors.

Were it not for the danger to her brothers, Sola would probably be having fun. The chance to cut loose against other skilled fighters? No one looming over her shoulder, scrutinizing her every action and deeming anything not up to their standards as 'monstruous'? Sola would have loved that in any other scenario.

But Spitfire has two brothers to protect, and Tredd swears under his breath when Sola assigns herself to Noctis and Nox's guard team, instead letting Ardyn join the strike team. The self-sacrificing dumbass.

"Care to explain that?"

Whoops.

Tredd cringes away from the Marshal's displeasure, silently thanking the Storm-Father that the King and Lord Amicitia are off in an unavoidable meeting with one of the Councilors.

"Sola is better suited on the strike team, sir." Luche says politely, before Tredd can stick his foot further in his mouth. "She's not usually charged with guard duties in the field."

The Marshal eyes them both severely. "Izunia is stronger than Sola." He says sourly. The revelation of the former Chancellor's heritage and all it's unpleasant implications hasn't been fun for anyone. "He can take a smaller strike team, freeing more people to guard Noctis and Nox." Unsaid is the fact that neither Sola nor Ardyn will leave the princes alone with strangers.

"Yes, sir." Luche demurs. That had been the argument Sola used to convince Ardyn.

(Tredd hadn't thought anyone could be more protective than Sola of her brothers, but Ardyn has her beat by a mile. Ifrit have mercy on whoever tries to harm either of the princes in the future, because Sola and Ardyn sure as Pyre won't, and Tredd doubts there'll be enough of the moron in question afterwards to scatter their ashes.)

Tactically, the assignments have merit. As Tredd exchanges a glance with an equally grim-faced Luche, he knows tactics aren't what they - or any of the glaives - are worried about.

Spitfire doesn't do defense. It's not a matter of skill. Tredd wouldn't be worried if it was, skill they can compensate for.

No, the issue is that Sola's a damn dragon of a Sword. Her first, second, and third instinct when dealing with threats is to kill it. She can't do that on defense - her priority has to be Noctis and Nox's safety, even if it means letting her target escape.

It's not impossible. Not when she's got help.

And yet Tredd can't shake the feeling that this isn't going to end any way but badly.

.

Tredd's right.

Two days later, everything goes to Ifrit's Pyre in a gift basket.

The strike team is away, trying to complete whatever the objective is that will send them all home.

(Ardyn is a force of destruction to contend with, tearing through enemies like they're tissue paper, making the King pale with an anguished epiphany he refused to share.)

The ambush catches everyone off guard. The strange dragon-like creatures swarm the protective detail. The healers push Nox and Noctis behind them, the champions better suited for close quarters combat struggling to keep the creatures off their more vulnerable companions.

In the commotion, Tredd doesn't see what sparks it, but he sure as Pyre sees when Spitfire loses it.

A low snarl rips from her throat, gaze and focus narrowing down on the threat in front of her.

Crowe swears. "Pyre-damn it all, someone back her up-"

But none of the other champions are watching Sola's back. They're too busy with their own battles, too busy keeping the kids safe. They don’t notice how Spitfire's been drawn away from the rest of the group, don't see the blind spot left vulnerable without a glaive or Abyssus there to cover her.

If Sola's family hadn’t known before, they've sure as Pyre realized it now. It's impossible to miss the glaives' reactions - Luche's grim certainty, Libertus' hand a physical restraint on Nyx's shoulder, Nyx's hands clenching and unclenching as he resists the useless instinct to grab his kukris and throw, Crowe's snarling at people who cannot hear, the way every muscle in Tredd's frame coils as he fights off the Fury rising like a wave-

-and crests, as Spitfire staggers, the attack she doesn't see ripping through her. Magic erupts throughout the room as Sola's eyes widen and her face twists in an agonized cry that has no breath to voice.

Sola hits the ground, and Nox s c r e a m s.

Ghostly weapons tear through the remaining creatures, a constant stream of light and steel that is nothing like any armiger they've seen. Champions startle as weapons pass through them harmlessly only to shred the creatures around them, until nothing remains.

The healers rush to Sola's side, but even from here, Tredd can see that it's bad. Really bad - he doesn't know if Spitfire's going to make it even with three healers and her own regeneration trying to save her life.

There's another burst of magic and Ardyn arrives, terrified and protective - Nox's magic must have alerted him, but Tredd doesn't know what the ex-Chancellor can do that the healers can't, Lucis Caelum magic just doesn't heal…

Ardyn takes in Nox, boneless with exhaustion and sobbing in Noctis' hold. Noctis, trying to keep it together. The champions doing their best to shield them from where Sola is laying on the ground between the healers.

(None of them can see it in the blue of the Crystal's hologram, how Sola is too pale against the shock of red hair haloed around her face, nearly indistinguishable from the blood staining the grass.)

Something in Ardyn's spine steels. He strides forward, ignoring the champions' attempts to keep him back, shedding his upper layers before he kneels and gathers Sola against his bare chest.

(The scars hit Tredd like a sucker punch. They've all seen some gnarly scars, no one survived the Burning unscathed, but these… these are torture scars. Torture scars and death blows and the glowing sigil of the royal family that can't be anything other than a brand.)

(The King is white as a sheet. Tredd wants to throw up. Parents are supposed to support you, not… not this.)

(Six, no wonder Axis kept Ardyn and Nox's heritage a secret. That Ardyn is able to trust and care for any of his Kin is astounding.)

It's not until magic rises from Ardyn's skin that Tredd realized what's happening. That he realizes what the tint of the Crystal's magic had disguised. But he's seen Spitfire heal others dozens of times out in the field, he recognizes this shaping of magic, and Ardyn is so much stronger than Spitfire-

It doesn't make it any easier to watch as Ardyn's skin splits, his blooding pouring out to join Sola's painting the ground. Doesn't make it any easier to watch as his wounds close, Ardyn gasping and trembling from more than just pain as he curls over his healed but unconscious niece, even as Noctis and Nox barrel in to comfort him.

Tredd's almost relieved when the Marshal turns to them and demands, "What the fuck just happened?"

As one, every glaive turns to Nyx. He's the only Chief present, he's the only one who can make the decision to share Galahdian lore with Outsiders as he has been with Sola.

Nyx stares a few moments longer at Sola's too-still form, hands flexing. Finally, he turns to face the Marshal and the King, expression dark as a thunderstorm. "We call it the Draconian's Rage."

"We?" The King's eyes are sharp. Tredd thinks he sees something of the warrior the King must have been when he visited Galahd twenty years ago.

"Galahd. The Draconian and the Infernian weren't the only Astrals to Bless humans. The magic disappeared long before the time of the Founder, but we still Remember." Nyx glances back to where the healers are fussing over Sola and Ardyn and Nox. "You have the Draconian's Blessing. But the Draconian isn't human."

Nyx turns back to the King, storm-blue locking with armiger-blue. "The Astrals aren't human, and sometimes their Blessed aren't either."

The King's lips thin. "You're saying my daughter isn't human." Treading on dangerous ground - the King's never taken kindly to the rumors painting Sola a monster.

"Physically, she is." Nyx says, steady as the cliffs against the storm-swept tides. "In her soul? Her instincts? She's no more human than I am."

That startles the King. "You are-?"

"Ramuh's. Storm to Sola's Sky."

There were rumors that the Ulrics were Ramuh's Blessed. Coeurl-Kin. Shape-changers and Wind-Walkers and as Black as the storms in their souls.

Tredd never thought he'd hear the rumors confirmed. This is Clan History. Private Clan History only ever shared with Clan Allies. If that.

"We thought you knew." Tredd says, trying to buy some leeway for Nyx. Tredd can't reveal that he's also not-quite human. Not without his Chief's permission. He might be able to get away with telling Sola - it's only a matter of time before she joins the Clans - but King Regis? Tredd would be in serious trouble. "You have thousands of years of history. Family customs as unique as any of ours." Customs catering specifically to those non-human instincts, Tredd doesn't say.

Tredd suspected otherwise after Sola's Rage in HQ. Sola didn't know anything about her Rages, only that she'd get so angry she couldn't think beyond needing to kill something. She was terrified that she'd try to kill anyone near her, hence her retreating somewhere secluded until she could regain control over herself. When she'd come out of her Rage to find Nyx and Tredd at the end of her weapons, injured but otherwise in one piece, she'd been horrified that she might have tried to kill them.

She hadn't known that she wouldn't. That even in the deepest Rage, her instincts would recognize the difference between hers and threat. Sola would never harm an innocent bystander. Not on purpose. Not unless they provoked her first.

So Tredd had suspected. He didn't want to believe it - how could the Lucis Caelums not have any information of the Draconian's Blessed? He knows Mainlanders don't keep Tales like the Clans do, but they do keep records! Sola cannot be the first Lucis Caelum to be Skyborn!

But no. The royal family has no clue.

What a mess.

"What does that mean for Sola?" The Marshal asks while the King processes Nyx's revelation.

"She's protective." Crowe says. Tredd snorts at the understatement of the century. "She'll react violently to anything threatening her Claimed. Lethally, if she can - Skyborn don't like leaving threats alive to try again."

"Prince Noctis and Nox are her only vulnerable Claimed. Prince Nox has his uncle to protect and care for him, which will satisfy Sola's instincts." Because nothing short of an Astral will be able to get past Ardyn to harm Nox, and even then Tredd would still put his money on Ardyn. "But Sola's Sword to Prince Noctis, and the oldest and strongest of his Retinue. She's his primary protector. Not being allowed or able to kill anything threatening him will stress her instincts."

The Marshal grimaces, glancing at the King and Shield. Tredd wonders if he's thinking about how Sola came to join the Kingsglaive. She'd eventually told them the circumstances behind her joining their training, one night out on deployment. Knowing now that Sola's Skyborn, that was a really Stupid decision on the King's part, banning Sola from protecting her disabled brother. The King was lucky Sola didn't try to sneak out of Insomnia after them.

"When she's under a lot of stress, she'll lose her grasp of human language." Tredd tells them. Tredd's never had that happen to him, but he also knows that as far as Seaborn instincts go, his are fairly tame. Sola, unfortunately, is way out on the extreme end of the scale. "Sign language she can comprehend, and that empathic thing she does with her magic. She'll lose her words before she Rages, so if it's that bad don't bother talking to her. She won't hear it."

Another glance between Sola's relatives. Six, how many signs had they missed?

Tredd determinedly ignores it. "When she's Raging, either give her space to work through it or spar with her. Sola won't hold back, but she won't try to kill you. But if you need to step out of the fight, make it physically clear that you surrender. Weapons away, hands down and open, on your knees and throat bared if you have to."

The King frowns. "That seems… dangerous."

"Not with Sola." Nyx says before Tredd's temper leads him to say something snarky and unwise to the King. "She'll always recognize her own."

"Shit's starting up again." Luche suddenly says.

Everyone turns back to the Crystal, conversation tabled.