The Disaster Magnet
Final Fantasy XV © Square Enix
The Disaster Magnet © fhclause
Chapter 1
Weddings.
The pinnacle of happiness to the end of a bachelor or bachelorette's life. A celebration of joining between two people drowned in each other's gooey looks. A wonderful event where the bride and groom amazed their guests not just with their vow of everlasting love till death do them apart or with the overflowing flowers and banners all over the pew, walls and floor, but also with an over-decorated five-tier cake with thick, tasteless fondant.
Yes, weddings—as wonderful as it was—could be too much even for the celebrated bride and groom that cynical thoughts took over. Surely if he could find the bride—wife—he would feel better. His blue eyes turned away from the empty glass in his hand to find her, but it wasn't all that hard when everyone around her were chanting and pushing her to the dance floor. He moved—almost like an instinct—to take her hand and his cue.
Then the husband came.
Nyx Ulfric, grinning from ear to ear as if had won the lottery—and he did, the bastard—pulled Luna to the centre of the ballroom. Her shriek of surprise quickly turned into laughter as he spun her around and turned to another shriek again when he dipped her low.
Show off, Noctis thought with a roll of his eyes as he shook his empty glass to the bartender for another refill. Even before the bartender could put the fresh glass of bourbon down, Noctis took it from his hand and downed it in one shot. His throat burned that it made him teared up, but Noctis didn't care.
Never in all his life knowing her did he ever see Luna so carefree, laughing and smiling with no inhibition like that. Not when they were chasing each other around in the flower field when they were children. Not when they were playing fetch with Pryna and Umbra when they were teenagers. Not when they were exchanging knowing, bored looks across the meeting table with the politicians shouting at each other when he and Luna used to be engaged.
No. With him, her smiles were like the touch of the wind on your cheeks and her laughter was soft ring bells like the lily of the valley. Soft. That was the word. Luna had this persona of a soft-spoken, gentle lady and if anyone told Noct before that Luna could lie on a bed of clouds without passing it through, he would have believed it.
Because she was that soft.
This new part of her, though? He resented Luna a bit for it, being exes to each other notwithstanding. They had been friends—still were—since they were eight and for a seventeen years of friendship, not a peep of this shrieking and laughing girl had she shown to him. But one day, in one of her stays in Insomnia, an assassin tried to kill her when a tall, dark, gruff looking knight stopped it. Noct might have shot himself on the foot then, because he was so grateful to Nyx Ulfric that he himself had assigned the Kingsglaive as Luna's personal bodyguard. He did notice the looks the two exchanged sometimes, but Noct did not think of it much then.
It was only when he heard a loud laugh between the incessant chatter of the soiree—so familiar yet so strange to his ears—and caught Luna clapping her mouth with her wide, sylleblossom eyes looking around at the people staring at her as if she had lost her mind and a quick slap to the arm of her ever-present bodyguard who was pinching his lips together trying to look stern, that Noctis knew.
And so Noctis did what he knew was right—ended their five-year engagement and told Luna to be happy.
Half a year later, there they were, the celebrated couple on the dance floor, dancing to the slow music, captivated in each other's gazes and here he was, accompanied with nothing but a busy bartender and two empty glasses.
"Well, don't you look like the grim reaper himself."
Noctis sent a withering look to the man who was ambling towards him. In his pristine white attire, Ravus looked almost like a sharp dressed angel, with the chandelier's light casted a halo reflection on his light-coloured hair. In fact, everyone in this ballroom did glorify Ravus as the Angel of Tenebrae. His feat in toppling the cruel Iedolas and became Nifleheim's new emperor with little bloodbath was the kind of achievement that would be written in history books and remembered until the end of time.
To Noctis, however, he was a narcissistic, overbearing man. They rarely saw eye to eye, Ravus and he. They had been rivals since childhood—why, he was not sure, considering how scarcely they saw each other, even when they were children—but since King Regis's death, the resentment had lessened. Instead, Ravus had taken the liberty to treat him like a child.
Just look at that haughty, raised eyebrow. Not even a hello and Ravus was already judging him. Noctis sighed. He almost preferred the old Ravus than this one. "Can't help it, can I? It's my house's colour."
"I'm not talking about your attire, Noctis." Ravus glanced at the glasses on the bar. "You have been drinking?"
"Yep."
Ravus looked at him sceptically. "Noctis, you never drink. Not even in those all-nighters meetings we have on weekends. And while I do understand you were trying to cure your broken heart—" Noctis scoffed as Ravus pushed the empty glasses away as if to hide his little imbibement away from public eye. "—I prefer if you do not do it in such a manner that paints you the victim in their love story, my dear."
At that little endearment, Noctis quickly straightened. Ravus did treat him like a child, but Noctis knew the older man cared for him just as much as his Brotherhood did. Only that Ravus's care felt more like a strict father than a brother, and his jabs, sarcasms and set downs were worse than Ignis that Noctis stewed in shame when he was at the brunt of it. Ravus using that specific little endearment though, meant he had done something terribly wrong and required Noctis to apologise post-haste, regardless if he knew what he did wrong or not.
How Ravus did it though, was one of the many mysteries of Ravus Nox Fleuret. "I'm sorry. What happened?"
"Look around and tell me."
Noctis did just that and winced. Behind their gloved hands and intricate fans, the nobles were whispering to each other, glancing at him with pitied sighs and shaking their heads lightly at the couple dancing on the dance floor. Some didn't even bother to hide their snickers. As much as this was a fairy-tale came to life—a tale of a princess marrying a commoner that sent romantics afloat with their flapping feet—such joining was still looked down upon by many, especially the ton. And him—the former fiancé —looking forlorn and nursing his drinks in their wedding ceremony did not help matters.
Noctis rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll apologise to Luna later."
"Personal apologies mean nothing to these hungry, gossip-monger sharks, my dear." Noctis winced again. "Later, you will smile to the bride and shake hands with the groom and dance with your partner beside them. Make a show of it. Show that you are not, in any way, broken-hearted."
"But I don't have a partner, Ravus. I came here alone."
Ravus looked at him with wide, feigned innocent eyes. "Did you?"
"Ah." Noctis glared at him. "That's the main reason you came to me. You're running away from your date by giving her to me."
Ravus waved his hand dismissively. "Hardly a 'date'. More like an obligatory chaperon."
"Then what's the problem?"
Ravus opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut. He waved his hand again as if to encourage the air to find the words for him, but nothing came out. Then Ravus looked around, making sure no one was near enough to hear them. "Frankly speaking, the girl is a disaster. Do you know of a Duke of Oceanus?"
Noctis hummed in thought. "Isn't he one of the nobles from Tenebrae?"
"Correct. His late son, Marquess of Lacus, Mahseer Altum, was a good friend of my father. When he heard that my father lost his life to save his son in the war, the duke took the obligation to help mother raising us. I think he felt guilty for what happened even though he didn't need to. War doesn't choose its victims, after all. Then the rebellion against Emperor Iedolas happened, and both the Marquess and Marchioness of Lacus were shot dead for helping the rebels. Their daughter was still three years old then."
Noctis winced in pity.
Ravus hummed dismissively with a wave of his hand. "The point of this sad story is both Luna and I are grateful to the duke. He is like a second grandfather to us. He is notoriously grumpy, but we love him all the same. I am obligated to help him, not just as king, but as a family. And His Grace current concern now is his granddaughter."
"Wait…" Noctis frowned as he remembered something from one of Luna's letters to him, about a lady who frequented their house and was considered as the honorary little sister of the family. "Is she the one who is named after a—"
"Hush! Don't say it out loud!" Ravus frowned nervously—could the verb frown be accompanied by the adverb nervously? Noctis supposed the strangeness of it was one of Ravus's mysteries working. "He will hear you," Ravus whispered as he glanced to the side.
Noctis looked too at the old man sitting far back from the crowd on the settee. He had a mean looking cane in his hand and would thump the end of the stick on the floor when someone dared came near. The scowl on his face looked like it had been permanently engraved. "Huh."
"As I said, notoriously grumpy," Ravus sighed. "He just celebrated his seventieth birthday a fortnight ago and it seemed His Grace understands he is getting old and is worried about his granddaughter's unmarried state. The girl has never been to any type of soirees or balls, so she is basically unknown to the ton."
Noctis looked at him suspiciously. "You are not trying to set a marriage for her with me, are you?"
Ravus waved his hand dismissively. "Of course not, silly. I only need you to dance with her. A little attention from the King of Lucis should be enough for other noblemen to be interested too."
"Then why can't you do it? You're the emperor and her companion."
Ravus pinched his lips. "I would have loved to, but I need some rest from dancing. I find that tutoring a lady for a quick lesson on the art of dancing is not a skill I have. It is quite detrimental to my feet. No fear, though. I made sure she is a decent enough dancer before tonight." He sighed. "I do love the old man and the girl is like a little sister to me as well as Luna, but she can be…too much to someone who is not used to her—or used to her. Actually, I'm surprised she hasn't made a—"
"Eeep!"
"Alas," Ravus rolled of his eyes. "I spoke too soon."
Noctis peered over Ravus's shoulder to see two women; one of them obviously one of the caterers judging by the uniform while the other was a guest. A quick assessment and he assumed that the guest had likely knocked her glass on something or someone and caused the big, red wine stain on the caterer's uniform. What was interesting to Noctis though, was it was the guest who bowed and apologised profusely for her mistake.
In what trippy world was he in to see a noble apologising to their lesser?
"Come. Let's save the day before the old dragon notices," Ravus said as he pulled him by the arm. Noctis glanced back at the duke and sure enough, the old man hadn't noticed his granddaughter's blunder. When they reached there, the caterer was already gone and the girl was hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment.
No wonder, that. Everyone around was staring at her, after all. But with one quick glare from Ravus, everyone looked away. In a gentle voice, he called out to her. "Mola."
At that, she snapped her gaze up. She beamed at them—Noctis blinked at the sight of her gum and white teeth because he could not recall any nobles he knew, new Luna excluded, to ever smiled as wide as that. Then he blinked again when the girl almost crashed herself onto Ravus if the latter had not put a steady hand on her shoulder.
Was she about to hug Ravus? In public?
"Ravus! Thank goodness. Where have you been?"
"Terribly sorry, my dear. I had a prior engagement to settle," Ravus said, the lie came out smoothly as butter. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I just hope the caterer has another uniform to wear. Oh, but what if she doesn't and she gets into trouble? What if she gets fired? It'll be my fault!"
Ravus patted her shoulder. "I will personally see to it that she won't. In the meantime, may I introduce you to my friend, Noctis Lucis Caelum, King of Lucis. Noctis, this is Lady Mola Altum, granddaughter of Duke of Oceanus."
Lady Mola swivelled her head at his direction and looked at him with wide eyes as if she had just noticed him standing there. Lady Mola was dressed in a simple, yet elegant green ballgown. Her short, red hair—curled just for the occasion—framed her round face quite nicely. What caught his attention though, was her figure. It was slightly fuller than most young noblelady Noctis knew.
A buxom, a startling, lusty thought suddenly came over that he quickly reeled back. He bowed, making sure his eyes stayed respectively away from her generous looking breasts. "Lady Mola. A pleasure."
He waited for her curtsy, but it didn't come. Ravus coughed delicately behind his gloved hand, and Lady Mola snapped her gaping mouth shut. "Oh. Oh, I mean, you're so good looking that I—"
Noctis recoiled as his face turned red. Ravus coughed louder.
"No! That was not I—Ah, umm...well—" She clenched her eyes tight, sucked a few breaths through her teeth and mumbled, "The pleasure is all mine, Your Majesty."
By the Six! Ravus was right. She was a disaster. Not a minute into their introduction and she had already blundered at least a quarter of the social etiquette in the book. She would not survive these bloodthirsty, gossip-monger sharks of nobles. Another vulgarity from her, and she would be the main topic the next day instead of the wedding—and she would not be talked about kindly. Ravus was right to worry and Noctis understood why the older man seek him out specifically for this. Noctis, after all, had a case of bleeding heart.
Alas. How many times had he went to fetch just the right frogs, personally delivered to his Head of Biological Department?
But instead of Noctis feeling helpful towards her, he found himself remarkably diverted. Selfish. Selfishly diverted. Why, he was not sure—perhaps the alcohol finally took an effect—but Noctis did not want to help this woman for her, but for his own amusement. What a great end to a night but to offer oneself to danger, after all.
And so he bowed again and offered his arm. "Lady Mola, may I have this honour to dance with you?"
1. Modern/Victorian: Most of the technology are modern while the etiquette and social norms adapts a Victorian one. Think of/Google Gankutsuo.
2. I do not regret in potraying Ravus as a pomp. This is an AU after all.
3. I love the Brotherhood's friendship, but I also need more Ravus/Noctis friendship. I have a thing for 'I hate/resent you, but I respect you' relationship. You'd know this if you read my 'Gentle Lady' (shameless self-advertising here)
4. The Noctis here is the one with longer hair without the beard. You have to Google it coz fanfics don't allow links outside itself.
5. Thank you for reading and have a nice day :)