AN: So I wrote this fic back in 2012, but never finished it. Recently stumbled upon it again my fanfiction folder and went, eh, let's upload it. Given the age of the fic, some of the information is outdated and the cast may seem OOC, probably even more so once the demo comes out, but I hope some people will get enjoyment out of this. It's an AU, so at least there's that. This fic is on I greatly enjoyed writing. French is used to represent a foreign language because it's the only other language I have skill in.
Noctis Lucis Caelum.
That was the name of the man who was suppose to bring glory to the kingdom. He could tap into the power of the last Crystal, the item which would bring fame to them. He would become a strong military leader, and the rest of the world would acknowledge the kingdom. All the citizens would live in peace and fortune. They would never go hungry, and they would never be denied what they sought.
But the prince did not bring what they thought he was. He was taught everything he could need to know. How to rule, politics, how to make an economy raise to new heights.
It wasn't like he was a bad person, no. He tried. He tried, but there was one thing the kingdom forgot exists, forget the sting and misery it brought.
War. The violent chaos soon flourished in hopes of stealing Noctis's crystal. It was the kind of war that brought about sickness and hunger.
One such war inspired the man to accept a new comer. A fugitive. Someone who really didn't belong in the palace, but was going to make it his home anyway. He could even be a commoner on a peasant! The prince's heart was too big, too soft. He could murder thousands of nameless soldiers, yes, his heart would allow that. But a man?
It was easy to a kill a body. It was hard to kill a person.
The newcomer was slipped into the dying city without a trace. No name was given to him. No announcement was made. He just, appeared in the palace one day, and he appeared only in the locked courtyard. All other times he would be hidden away in one of the palace's many rooms. Many walked passed him as they carried out their business, but none commented.
The courtyard was a large and beautiful place, filled with colors from flowers and trees. Half of it, the half that the stranger frequented, was boxed of by a plain wooden fence. Only a simple lock kept it closed. The lock severed more to make a statement then keep others out. Some servants cared for it. Gladiolus enjoyed the calm area, had even before the stranger arrived.
The two men who frequented the palace, but were not royalty, noticed the name quickly. He stuck out like a sore thumb. His hair was too bright to fit in. He kept a gun with him at all times, even though they were banned.
Gladiolus had, in a way, made it his mission to observe the other. The way Noctis cared for him... it shook him. The prince went to check up on the fugitive daily. He would bring presents, gifts, anything the young man desired.
It wasn't like Noctis at all. Gladiolus wanted to know what man made his friend care so deeply.
The foreign man didn't seem to be a prisoner to the palace, but he never left. There wasn't much to see in the city anyway. The shops were mostly closed. The amusement parks they had made years ago were abandoned and broken down.
No one had money to spend on such fun things anymore.
All their money was spent on buying food and clothing, the rest spent of taxes. The war had left the kingdom broke. How odd of Noctis to take in another life when they could barely take care of their own. The prince's heart was soft indeed.
"Just let him be."
That was Ignis's solution.
"The prince just has a little crush. It'll pass soon enough."
It fit the solution perfectly. The lonely prince fell into forbidden love with an enemy of another country. He took him back to his homeland, not wanting to part. He showered him in gifts as a show of affection. He allowed him to eat plenty of food, to provide for him.
Gladiolus still couldn't imagine it. He had known Noctis since they were kids, before the title of prince meant more then an intersecting character in a fairy tale. The prince had never spoken of love to him. He had never had those schoolboy crushes on teachers or fallen into innocent puppy love with the beautiful girl with long hair. Gladiolus had more then his fair share of childhood crushes. Unlike most, they weren't on women.
Yes, it was Gladiolus job to watch the newcomer. Self-appointed, true, but his task nonetheless. The stranger would entertain himself with the gifts Noctis would bring him, but he would quickly grow tired of them. Gladiolus wanted to call him selfish. Most people would be flattered with something the prince gave them! They would treasure it for days!
Unless, he didn't see Noctis as a prince. Unless, he saw the man he would visit him as just another suitor. Gladiolus knew nothing of the fugitive. Was he the type who would sleep around with a different person everyday? The type of man who would seek out others to use them to his own personal gain? Was he the kind, like he had recently thought Noctis to be, that would never fall in love? Or, which he hoped he was for Noctis's sake, the kind of person who was a romantic at heart?
Maybe the reason he saw Noctis as a person was because he wasn't his prince. The man didn't belong to their kingdom.
Maybe, just maybe, the fugitive already knew Noctis well enough to know him as a person, like Ignis and Gladiolus did. That would mean they had already advanced their love from unknown feelings. Still, a protective urge bloomed in his heart. Noctis was a brother to him, and this stranger was one only the prince knew. Gladiolus wanted to make sure this man was treating his friend well. Not to mention he carried a gun. Could he be dangerous? Did he seduce Notcis to get into Lucis and harm the kingdom from the inside?
It was odd; he really didn't see himself as the type of person to pry into other people's lives.
Noctis was the one and only visitor of the man. No servants came to meet him. No cooks either. No one, no one ever but the prince. Ignis would gaze at him from across the the courtyard, but no contact was ever made beyond that. If the stranger noticed them, he never made any move to initiate any interaction. He would just busy himself with the Noctis's last gift, nap, or busy himself with the plant life in the courtyard.
That was one benefit of being close to the crystal. It acted a a life giver. Things bloomed and the sickly had their illnesses slowed.
Sometimes, when the two met and were alone in the courtyard, Noctis would sit right across from the fugitive, and speak to him in what seemed to be his native tongue. Gladiolus wasn't familiar enough with it to guess what it was. Noctis would often repeat words to him in language of his own kingdom, and the foreigner would repeat them back. He was teaching him. Gladiolus would pretend to read, which he honestly hadn't done in years, while he watched. The two were in public, though some strange secluded public space that only Noctis and Prompto were allowed to, but public still.
Once or twice, it seemed like the armed man might have noticed him, but Gladiolus was sure it had to be a trick of the light.
Gladiolus knew what type of person Noctis was. He didn't, however, know what type of boyfriend he was.
It seemed so far he was the possessive, spoiling type.
Noctis was the prince.
Noctis was the prince, but he was still a person. He was a one man army, but he still felt the pains of a normal person. He hated getting up early on a Monday morning. He loved it when when it was a bright day outside. He enjoyed listening to music and seeing plays.
But Noctis was a prince. He didn't have to deal with the pains that other people felt. He didn't have to worry about money or clothes; he had plenty of both. No, he was royalty, and he had his own set of problems. His kingdom. His father. His citizens. War. He had to cover him the softer parts of his personality and fake being colder than he was. Gladiolus knew that some nights Noctis would wake screaming because he saw the faces over those he already sent to the afterlife. He was sure that the foreigner had added one more problem to Noctis's list of normal crises. The problem of love.
He know that his friend was stressed. This was not a good time for his kingdom. Noctis worried about a great number of things, so Gladiolus brought Ignis with him and dragged them to a bar. Even in times were money was hard to come by, bars and churches always flourished. Suffering either made people want to forgot, or get closer to their maker.
Noctis looked out of place at such an establishment. Drunk men and women sat at tables, talking about who knew what while the sober prince nursed a glass of water. He was sandwiched between his to friends, Ignis and Gladiolus, which he treasured.
"Sure you don't want anything? My treat." Gladiolus offered.
"I'm fine. I can't afford to cloud my mind." A small smile was Gladiolus's reward for the gesture.
Gladiolus ordered another drink for himself. "If you say so."
He was the only one out of the three that drank. Ignis's tastes were fancy, and it was getting hard to find high class alcohol. Gladiolus could care less what he drank. It's not the drink that Noctis needed though. It was the time he'll spend with his friends. Ignis and Gladiolus were the only two people in the world who he could let off steam on.
It wasn't not uncommon for the prince to ramble when they meet. Sometimes, for hours. Today he was more quiet, so Gladiolus let himself ask a question.
"Hey Noct, what's up with that guy I've seen? The one in the palace?"
He was curious, more curious then what was natural to him. Every so slightly, Noctis's grip on his glass of water tightened.
"Which one? I have a lot of servants." His voice somehow remained steady and smooth.
"The foreign one, with blond hair." Gladiolus pointed to his own hair. "And he carries around a gun."
Noctis's grip tightened again.
"That's none of your business."
The prince became cold, retreating to a less emotional state, and the trip did nothing to loosen him up. Turned out, it was a mistake for him to ask. It crumbled the attempt to cheer up the troubled man.
"Ne bouge pas!"
Gladiolus registered the gun even before he felt the cold metal on his skin. Only once had he joined his kingdom's battle, but it was enough for his senses to sharpen to certain things. He had been watching the stranger when he decided to take a little nap. Then someone pointed a gun at his head, and he found himself staring eye to eye with the fugitive.
He understood the foreign tongue slightly.
Don't move!