Chapter Text
Gladiolus
There isn’t a complaint to be heard from Gladiolus over the next few days, in fact everyone seems to be in better spirits. The talk with Ignis seems to have done some good, he’s more at ease than he had been prior. Noctis finds some great fishing spots, and Prompto ends every night by having the group crowd around to check on the pictures he’s taken on his camera.
Gladiolus does, however, take note of a couple things that seem amiss. Most notably with Prompto and Noctis. They steal glances of each other when they think no one is looking, though Gladio can’t seem to place the sentiment behind it. Prompto in general seems to be developing a habit of staring. Gladiolus isn’t a stranger to desire, he knows it when he sees it, and the sheer amount of times Prompto seems to be displaying clear interest in any given one of them is…well in Gladiolus’ opinion, a little funny. In a cute way, of course. He thinks little of it, though it surprises him given Prompto’s usually girl-addled brain. Even more of a surprise when he sees the looks directed at Ignis and Noctis also being pointed his way. Prompto always looks away fast, pretends to be doing something else. But Gladiolus knows better. He tries not to let it go to his head, even if he kind of wants to prod, see how far Prompto might take it. As of right now, he seems too sheepish to actually pursue anything.
Though Gladiolus wouldn’t reciprocate. Of course he would want to, Prompto is easy on the eyes to say the least, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wonder how all that energy translates in a different set of circumstances. But their situation is complicated, and given the way Noctis has been looking at Prompto, Gladiolus isn’t sure it wouldn’t be an absolute betrayal to his friend and King. So for now, it holds little weight in his mind besides being entirely amusing.
Noctis has also been considerably more irate, though not in any way that feels serious. Gladiolus would almost say he seems flustered rather than actually upset. And since they left the Chocobo post, Noctis has requested they train together every night after setting up camp. Something has him reeling. At first Gladio thinks it’s just pent up energy from being in a car all day, but Noctis fights with a new type of zeal Gladiolus has never seen in him.
Tonight isn’t any different.
“C’mon, you can do better than that.” Noctis can be a little shit, actually…he’s always a little shit, especially when they spar. But tonight he was a new kind of aggressive.
Sparring with Ignis or Noctis typically lasts a long time. Ignis is fast, and it ends up turning into a game of cat and mouse. Noctis is slower, but has gotten adept with his warping, meaning he has a fast recovery and way out of most tight spots. Gladiolus ultimately has the stamina to keep up, and as long as he is patient, waits for an opening, he won’t run out.
But Noctis is taking more shots at him than usual, and is willing to risk Gladiolus going for the grapple in turn for a faster ware down. Gladiolus is intrigued by the sudden turn in tactics, and more than pleased to see Noctis engaging enthusiastically.
Gladiolus’ own tactics don’t change, ultimately he knows he can take whatever Noctis can dish out. So still, he waits, parrying Noctis when he can, putting pressure on him if he doesn’t move out of his range. He still takes more hits than typical, but he works it to his advantage. Lets Noctis think he’s doing well, feigns lag in his movements as if he were beginning to grow the slightest bit exhausted. It makes Noctis confident, bolder in his actions, lulls him into a false sense of security.
Noctis is more willing to take risks, hitting warp strikes with shorter intervals in between, zipping front and back in attempts to overwhelm. Gladiolus knows that’ll exhaust him, but if Noctis thinks he might win, he’ll lose his patience. So he lets him hit his marks, tanks the hits until he knows Noctis has worn himself too thin. And then Noctis makes a fatal mistake, using what he has left to strike another blow instead of gaining distance. He tries to use his own natural speed and smaller stature to duck beneath Gladiolus’ blade, but in a turn of events, Gladiolus drops it altogether, reaches forward with a barehand, and grabs him by the neck.
The two are on the ground, Noctis pressed into the dirt on his back, Gladiolus gripping him with enough pressure to hold him but not cut off air. Noctis is unable to twist or move his legs, pinned down by Gladiolus’ weight. His hands reach up, clawing at Gladio’s hand to no avail. Gladiolus’ other hand raises, a fist above his head, a looming threat.
Noctis doesn’t look beat, his face twisted in furious determination, won’t break his gaze from Gladiolus, stares at him in a way that almost feels hateful. In contrast, Gladiolus’ own eyes are searching. He’s never seen Noctis like this before, he wants to know what it means. But he finds no immediate answers, and cannot piece together the puzzle.
His fist comes down, landing just beside Noctis’ head. It presses into the dirt like a sledgehammer, displacing the earth around it. It cracks and splinters, creating a small crater. Gladiolus removes his fist so the hole is visible, and the hand on Noctis’ neck slides up. It grips his jaw tightly, and he forces Noctis to look at the obliterated spot next to his head. Gladiolus lowers the top half of his body, lips only inches away from Noctis’ face.
“Never. Give me. That chance. Again.” Gladiolus watches him for a moment, taking note that none of the fire leaves Noctis’ eyes. “Do you understand?”
Noctis' hand comes up, pushing Gladiolus’ wrist to the side. It’s not overly forceful, not an act of defiance, and Gladiolus lets his hand be moved. Before he can sit up straight, Noctis whips his head back to look him in the eyes again.
“I understand you’re getting soft.”
Gladiolus hadn’t been irritated before, no, just simply trying to prove a point. But now? He scowls down at Noctis, white hot anger burning through his chest. It spreads out to his limbs, floods his bloodstream.
“I’m not going to start a pissing match with you.” Gladiolus pushes himself up, and starts to leave Noctis’ space. “Let me know when you decide to pull your head out of your ass.”
“We’re not done yet-” Noctis reaches forward, grabs Gladiolus forearm, grips it with his nails dug into the skin. When Gladiolus shrugs him off, Noctis only grabs him again, this time harder. “I said we aren’t done yet.”
Despite everything in Gladiolus screaming to tell Noctis to go fuck himself, he stops. He’s still on top of him, straddling Noct on either side. “If you wanna continue, I’m gonna need some answers first.”
Noctis groans, that stupid whiny teenager “ugh” that Gladiolus thinks he’s too old for. “Fine, whatever. You faked me out so I’d get cocky and I took the bait- and if it were a real fight you would of shattered my skull into thousands of tiny-”
“So you did understand, and just felt like being an asshole for fun? I know you get off on driving me up the wall, but what’s your damage?”
“I don’t get off on it- you’re just sensitive.”
“You’ve been goading me all night, yesterday too. Don’t pretend you don’t know what buttons to push.”
“Well maybe if you didn’t make it so easy to press them…”
Gladiolus opens his mouth, ready to argue his point when he’s hit with a wave of confusion. Noctis’ tone was off. Sure, Noct was goading him, he does it all the time, but something about this was different. Reading people is something he’s always been good at, but despite the signals he’s being given by Noct, he doubts his own mind at this moment. The words sit on Noctis’ tongue a little too long, there is a drawl Gladiolus has never heard from his mouth. He’s heard it from others, it’s subtle, but causes Gladiolus to think through this entire interaction again. A picture flashes in his mind of Noctis looking up at him from the ground. Gladiolus thought it was anger, and now he’s not sure he read it right. Maybe because it was a look he had never in a million years expected to get from Noctis of all people. Noctis clearly wants to provoke him and is willing to put more effort into it than usual.
It almost feels like flirting.
“...Ignis is probably almost done. We should get back anyway.” It’s a sudden drop in topic, which leaves Noctis looking near stunned. Gladiolus never backs out in such a passive avoidant way.
“It’s gonna be too dark to pick back up after.”
“Poor thing, guess you’ll have to get up early if you wanna train so bad.”
*
Gladiolus doesn’t know if he should be deeply concerned or impressed. Really, he didn’t know Noctis had it in him. Unless Gladiolus was reading the signals completely wrong,and not to ring his own bell, but that was rare. However the implications of Noctis making advances toward him brought on a slew of confusion, he wasn’t sure what to tackle first.
To start, this wasn’t an innocent flirt. In Gladiolus’ experience goading someone into manhandling you wasn’t something you did casually, nor for wholesome reasons. But this didn’t feel like Noctis’ only reason for insisting they train so vigorously. No, Noctis wants to be distracted.
Gladiolus has a vague running theory. Something has happened between Noctis and Prompto, something that has changed the boundary of the friendship for better or worse. Based on what he’s observed, it’s at the very least romantically, if not sexually charged. You don’t just shoot glances like that at your best friend for no reason. Shortly after, Prompto starts making eyes at all three of them when he thinks no one is looking, and Gladiolus feels like it has to be related. Maybe…he’s having some sort of sexual awakening? Prompto is only twenty years old, if he realizes something makes him horny, he’s going to jump at it. And Gladiolus is self aware enough to know that he’s not too old for that kind of behavior too, even if he can control it a little better.
But how the fuck does any of this lead to Noctis flirting with him?
He wants to ask Ignis if he’s noticed anything. No, Ignis wouldn’t clock any of Prompto’s looks, however he might have realized if something was up with Noctis. But is it worth it to bring up, or is just going to add more onto Ignis’ pile? He’s not sure keying Ignis in on this if he’s not aware is going to help much of anything, in fact it might make a situation that will eventually work itself out more complicated.
Maybe Noctis is pining after Prompto, maybe he got rejected and Gladiolus just so happens to be the closest person available for a harsh rebound. It would never be Ignis, so it would have to be him. But Prompto isn’t restricting his looks to Ignis and Gladiolus, when he looks at Noctis he has about as much wistful longing as the wife of a man off to war. If it’s not that he doesn’t reciprocate…then what?
Gladiolus doesn’t even want to start unpacking how he feels about being flirted with by Noctis. It’s not something he’d considered before. For a long time it was probably because of the age difference, at any point before now thinking of Noctis in that way would have made his skin crawl. Three years is a big gap at ten and thirteen, or fifteen and eighteen. Thinking about it now doesn’t induce the same urge to vomit, and that is where Gladiolus decides to leave it. Engaging in the thought process regarding if he could even theoretically consider Noctis in that light is not helpful nor relevant.
So that night, laying in the darkness with all the possibilities and questions running through his head, he decides for the time being there is no action that must be taken. He will keep an eye on the situation, make sure it doesn’t get messy and cause strife. For all he knows, it’ll be forgotten about in a week.
*
Lestallum was far from being close to the Crown City in both size and aesthetics, but still brought back a sense of normalcy to the group. It was closer to what they’d always known, bright, busy and populated. And from what they were able to tell from the Leville website, the hotel Iris was staying at would mean more comfortable accommodations than they’d had in weeks. They’d still only be able to afford one room, two beds, but even the concept of good water pressure and a mattress that wasn’t lumpy is enough to put them in a good mood.
Unless you’re Ignis. The minute they step foot in Lestallum, he’s on edge. Not for a bad reason, there’s more eyes on them here. Ignis isn’t above believing one of their own countrymen would sell them out, or that if someone noticed and it started going around, it might happen by accident. Gladiolus keeps a careful eye out, because even if he believes Niflheim is keeping their distance from Noctis at the moment (aside from their occasional run in with soldiers), he won’t let his guard down. The added bonus is that it might provide Ignis a bit of peace. They took another precaution by changing out of anything with any clear signifiers that they were Crownsguard, no symbols, no motifs. Prompto expresses just a tad bit of sorrow at the concept that he’s not able to flaunt it, claiming he thinks it would make him popular with the ladies. Gladiolus, given what he’s been able to piece together, has to hold back any laughter or sarcasm.
No one seemed to be staring on the way up either, and Gladiolus is hoping that perhaps out here they don’t see Noctis’ face on their screens enough to immediately recognize him. Though they make an effort to avoid any areas of the city with a notable population of refugees from the Crown City. Noctis kicks up a fuss, he wants to see them, wants to help, but Ignis tells him that by putting himself at risk he would only do them more harm.
Luckily when they go to rent a room at the hotel, the employee at the front desk puts their reservation under an alias, which seems to put Ignis at ease as well.
“Gladdy!”
Gladiolus’ head whips to the side, smiling when he sees his sister rushing down the stairs. It brings him comfort he wasn’t aware he needed, not just to hear her safe but to see her safe, to know she looked healthy and seemed happy. She had been his biggest concern when they heard about what happened in Insomnia. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, not outright, that his most pressing concern wasn’t the city, nor what had happened to the King and his father. He could live with all that. But not without her.
They get the important stuff out of the way, talk to Jared and Talcott, run through what happened in the city. Lady Lunafreya is revealed to have briefly stopped in Lestallum in the last couple of weeks with the first batch of refugees. It’s a good sign, not exactly a lead on her current location, but Gladiolus can tell it brings Noctis hope to think she’s alive and well.
When Iris excuses herself, Gladiolus follows, catching her outside the door of their room. The two linger in a brief silence before they both dive for one another at the same time. Iris’ arms wrap around his neck, and he lifts her well above the floor in a tight hug. For a moment they only hold each other before Iris gives Gladiolus a pat on the back of the head.
“Suffocating…”
He drops her suddenly, chuckling and apologizing.
“C’mon. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Gladiolus follows her back to her room, and then out onto the balcony attached to it. He leans over the railing, soaking in the view of the city as the sun sets.
“I’m glad you’re okay. I know you must have seen the worst of it.”
“...It wasn’t pretty, everything in proximity to the Citadel…we were able to get out earlier than most, due to the remaining Crownsguard. I think I made out pretty lucky, all things considered. A lot of people can’t say the same.”
“We got a glimpse of the refugees coming in, Ignis wouldn’t let us get too close, doesn’t want Noctis to be identified. But from what I did see…lots of people in bad condition. We saw some of the damage from the feed of the attack posted online. A lot of people wouldn’t have made it out alive.”
Iris goes quiet, Gladiolus knows she feels guilty that her position granted her safety others wouldn’t have. He wants to tell her it’s not her fault, but he knows it won't make a difference. It’s something she’ll need to reconcile for herself, if she ever does.
“Dad didn’t tell you anything?”
“No. If he didn’t tell you, he definitely wouldn’t tell me.” Iris shakes her head, but her gaze stays distant and focused. She’s quiet for a couple of minutes, Gladiolus can tell she’s working through something, and instead of responding, gives her the space to pick her words. “I don’t remember the last conversation I had with him. I don’t remember the last time I’d seen him.”
“I know it can’t be easy, but he loved you and-”
“That’s the thing though. It kind of is easy. When Cor told me what happened…I didn’t even consider dad. I just kept thinking about all those people I saw on the way out, all of those families…I visit the refugee camp everyday, help pass out provisions and donations. When I think of them my heart drops right into my stomach. After it happened, they released estimates for the death toll in the city. And everyday, it would get higher. I cried myself to sleep every night for the first two weeks. But when I think about dad? I don’t feel much of anything at all.”
Gladiolus doesn’t know what to say. He wants to feel shocked, but really, how could he be? Of course he thought she’d hurt just as much as he does, but when she voices how she actually feels aloud…
“He wasn’t there for you.”
“If I’d gone into the Crownsguard, or had gotten some other position at the Citadel…maybe. But even then, was he really there for you either?” Iris stops and turns her head, looking at Gladiolus with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Not now.”
“You aren’t entirely wrong.”
“It’s still unkind. Even if he wasn’t the most present…he was proud of you. And you loved him.”
“I did, I still do. But…” Gladiolus sighs, eyebrows scrunching into a tight knot. “It doesn’t change the facts. You tried endlessly with him, went to visit him, brought him food, clothes… he never made that same effort with you. It feels obvious now, but I never saw it before. I’m sorry I let you carry that alone.”
“Oh Gladdy…you have enough on your plate already without feeling guilty for me. I let go of the little girl who just wanted her father’s attention a long time ago. You should too. If anything, I’m the one who is sorry. I wish I could share your grief with you, even if just to make the load a little lighter.”
“You know me, I’ll be fine.”
“I do, and well enough to say you don’t need to pretend it doesn’t bother you. Not here, not with me.” Iris fully turns to face him now, rests a hand on his forearm. Gladiolus turns to look at her, but stays leaning over the railing. “It doesn’t make me sad to think I didn’t have a father, because I had you. You were my protector, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on. And I would give anything to be even a fraction of what you were to me, to you. So if you need to be sad, or angry, or broken, you can be that right here with me.”
Gladiolus stares, his frustrated expression melted into devastation and heartbreak. He lunges forward, arms wrapping tightly around Iris, body hunched and face dug into her hair. Her arms come up to embrace him in return, the palm of her hand moving up and down in full strokes over his back. But it isn’t his grief that takes him in this moment, it is the realization of Iris. That through everything she’s ever been through she has become a competent, empathetic, beacon of light. And that she would claim that he is any portion responsible for what she has become fills him with a pride his duties as Shield would never grant him.
For the first time in years, and the last for many to come, he weeps.