A/N: Friendly reminder that this story is co-written by myself and roguehearted!

Chapter Two: House-Warming

This had to be a trap.

Compared to Prompto's shared, cramped space in the barracks back in Niflheim, just this one bedroom was practically a palace in itself. There was absolutely no way that such finery was meant for him—and it was fine. Everything was so...so clean that he hardly knew what to do with himself. Windows draped with black curtains gave him a view of the city and, far beyond, what he could only assume was the ocean. (If it was, then he could honestly say it was the most dazzling thing he'd ever seen, even if it was merely the tiniest strip on the horizon from here.) There was white wallpaper with gold inlay from ceiling to floor; the brightness perfectly matched the style of the furniture, which was way more than he could ever use-a dresser, a nightstand, a bed...

A bed .

Holy shit, there was an actual bed.

So, beds were basically the floor in Gralea. There were a handful of steel frames with sharp metal springs and deflated mattresses, but those were for the beautiful people: namely, the soldiers who ruthlessly wrested them away from whoever had one. Usually in the middle of the night. When they were sleeping. With knives. Anyway, the point was that beds weren't exactly a common commodity where he came from if you didn't want to get your throat slit.

The fact that the Lucians had provided such an extravagant luxury for him had to be an oversight. A mistake had obviously been made, and Prompto had been given the keys to the emperor's suite instead. Someone was going to be in huge trouble for this-it would probably be him and whatever poor Lucian Aldercapt demanded to be beheaded for this grievous insult.

Prompto knew he should tell someone if for no other reason than to minimize the amount of bloodshed with a swift resolution.

Instead, he let himself indulge for a few minutes because hey, this whole thing was a suicide mission anyway. He could afford a little bit of fun in the meantime, and this? Yeah, this was so totally worthwhile.

Plus, he was simply doing his job. If what passed for beds in the barracks were rare, then a bed like this was unheard of. It couldn't be real-maybe they'd gotten a big mattress and filled it with tacks or something to make the emperor uncomfortable when he was trying to sleep. Or perhaps the second he put any weight on it, the whole thing would collapse. Juvenile, but still a pretty good possibility. It would be treasonous of him not to at least test it before handing it over to his fearless leader. Really, it was for the good of everyone that he just took a few minutes to check things out.

Poking at it a few times assuaged his concerns and simultaneously sent his confusion through the roof. It was...soft. And fluffy. And huge.

But no tacks. Definitely no tacks.

Prompto gazed hesitantly back at the door, chewing at his bottom lip. With his patriotic duty done in literally no time at all, he knew he needed to report this now. The longer he remained here inspecting this mattress-shaped cloud, the longer the emperor fumed in a commoner's room that was meant for him.

Was it so wrong of him to take advantage of a perfectly good mistake, though? After all, if the Lucians couldn't get their rooms straight, that wasn't his fault. He hadn't finished checking everything for booby traps, and...well, he just wanted to enjoy what it felt like to be in a fancy, royal room for the first (and undoubtedly only) time ever.

Still, he bit back the urge to jump on the bed, just in case someone else realized their error and barged in to find him messing up the emperor's suite. Then it would totally be his fault.

His reservations lasted all of five minutes, long enough for him to investigate everything else these chambers had to offer in a state of dazed amazement. Everything anyone could need was furnished, along with plenty of stuff that nobody could possibly have any use for. There was even a bathroom . With towels. Clean towels. On a heated rack. Next to a pristine, sparkly white tub. Did all royalty live like this, or were the Lucians just super over the top?!

Either way, it seemed like a waste not to take advantage while he could! They'd given him this room, so technically it was his to enjoy until they realized their mistake. If they were going to drag him out, he might as well have a little fun first, right?

Which was how he ended up bouncing on the mattress (after taking his shoes and socks off-he wasn't a heathen) until a telltale rapping at the door shocked him right off the edge.

The pain of landing flat on his back with a loud bang barely registered compared to the all-encompassing dismay that he hadn't gotten at least a few more minutes before they figured out they'd stuck a commoner in a king's chambers. Aldercapt had probably complained to someone. There was no way he'd last long in an average bedroom, whatever that might look like in Lucis, so he really shouldn't have been surprised.

Sighing, Prompto didn't bother picking himself up off the floor or lowering his leg from where it was still propped on the corner of the bed-he'd never put everything back to rights before they waltzed in to see him lying there in the tattered remnants of his enthusiasm anyway. All he could do now was wait for the inevitable.

Or so he thought.

There was nothing but dead silence on the other side of the door. Nobody barged in; nobody cried out. For a moment, Prompto wondered if perhaps the knocking had just been his guilty conscience playing tricks on him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd imagined things that weren't there, although that was pretty typical when anyone could walk into the barracks without warning. Not having doors kinda sucked like that.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he attempted to untangle himself as silently as possible from the large fluffy comforter that he'd somehow managed to take down with him in his fall. It was a lot harder than he thought it would be.

Well, this was super awkward-and that was before the rapping sound reached him again, this time followed by a voice.

"Do pardon the intrusion, but might I enter?"

Prompto exhaled, not realizing he'd been holding his breath. He wasn't sure when he'd closed his eyes either, but he cracked one open to frown curiously at the door. They...were asking if they could come in?

Oh, no...

This was going to be even more awkward than he'd thought: they didn't know they'd gotten the rooms wrong! Prompto could tell from the accent that whoever was on the other side of the door wasn't a member of their retinue, which meant it had to be one of the retainers from the Citadel. Did they knock for everyone or just the important people? There was no other reason they'd be asking to come in that he could think of-they would have just done it if they knew he was inside. They were probably expecting Aldercapt to let them in with that slimy, superior tone of his. When they opened the door and got a load of Prompto, though...

Well, it was fun while it lasted. Couldn't stall forever, though.

Rolling over onto his stomach, Prompto tried not to dwell on the strangeness of announcing, "Come in!" as he finally kicked himself free of the blanket. There was no time for relief to set in, however, not when the door was opening and a familiar face peered down at him.

It was the prince's chamberlain-Ignis, if he remembered correctly from his files. Whether he hadn't noticed Prompto's position or he was just being nice, he didn't comment when he saw Prompto scrambling to his feet. He merely shut the door behind him while Prompto tried not to fidget under his gaze, fighting against the urge to snatch the blanket off the ground and arrange it neatly back on the bed. He had no doubt that Ignis would be expecting him to do as much before he escorted him to his actual room, or maybe the dungeon he'd be rotting in for daring to breathe near the emperor's pillowcases.

"I merely came to see if you were settling in well." Ignis spared a quick glance for the mattress. "However, if you would like a touch more privacy, the door is equipped with a lock."

Well, now. That wasn't what Prompto had been expecting at all, although he didn't miss the look of mild annoyance that the chamberlain clearly believed he had covered up. What could he say: Prompto had aggravated enough of his superiors in the past to notice the warning signs, no matter how fleeting. Thankfully, that hardly mattered at this point as it appeared he hadn't arrived to drag him off.

Yet.

"Have the stewards brought up your luggage?"

It took a moment for Prompto's brain to catch up enough for him to answer-it was still stuck on the whole lock thing now that he was sure Ignis hadn't come to catch him in the act of aggressive bed-jumping. He knew what they were in theory, but he'd never actually had one. It was sort of useless when you roomed with about thirty other guys at a time and your commander could walk right in whenever he wanted. If they decided to lock or barricade the door, all hell would break loose. Prompto figured the empire wouldn't want to waste a good investment, especially after all the training they'd received; regardless, there was a part of him that wouldn't put it past them to burn the barracks down purely to make a point, either.

Not that that had anything to do with Lucis or the guy standing in front of him, so he wouldn't mention it. Instead, he logged that information away and made a mental note to test the lock later. Loqi wouldn't dare set fire to the entire Citadel-he hoped. It should be a pretty safe place to give it a shot.

Just before his pause could enter the realm of beyond awkward, he kicked the clingy sheet closer to the bed with a nervous chuckle. Luggage? Yeah, he had some...somewhere. At least, Loqi had mentioned something about throwing a bag of clothes onto the transport for him. It wouldn't really be proper to wander around Lucis in nothing but his underwear, after all, which left them little choice.

Still, he hadn't personally brought anything with him and had no clue what said bag looked like. Come to think of it, strike that earlier thought-they were about to go full-on awkward.

"Uh..." Glancing around the room as if his luggage might pop out from under the bed or something, Prompto scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "I'm...not so sure? Maybe?"

To Ignis's credit he appeared unbothered by the tension that Prompto felt taking over the room. Rather than standing there staring like one of them happened to be doing, he took a brief moment to glance around before crossing the chamber with purpose. Stepping delicately over the mess of blankets Prompto had at least managed to shove into a slightly neater pile, the chamberlain opened a door on the far wall and peered inside.

"Ah, here you are."

Prompto wandered over to see for himself, attempting to hold back his shock at the fact that there was another room in here. This was just getting obscene. They couldn't possibly fit any more. ...Actually, they probably could. At this rate, he would be completely unsurprised to find a trap door under the bed that led to an aquarium or an indoor petting zoo or something equally ridiculous (and amazing).

The chamber Ignis had revealed wasn't anywhere near as elaborate as the one he'd been systematically destroying for the last couple of minutes, though, and he had the briefest suspicion that it was his actual accommodation until he remembered the whole you can lock the door part of the conversation. Still, could anyone blame him for forgetting when there were a ton of brand new, shiny uniforms staring him in the face?

"I would hope that you have something for tonight's festivities?" Ignis asked, also taking in the row of lavish Niflheim military uniforms, though not with nearly as much awe and fascination that had gripped Prompto.

He nodded mutely, too preoccupied with the idea that not only were these uniforms brand new, but there was more than one of them. For him . He hardly ever got anything new in Gralea-to be given more than one was just as unthinkable as the door having a lock. Maybe this job was a total downer, but he couldn't help thinking he'd scored big this time.

Maybe don't mess it up by acting like a pleb, huh?

Ignis cleared his throat, drawing Prompto's attention back to him. "You must forgive me. We were not given your name upon your arrival. I am Prince Noctis's chamberlain, Ignis. I thought it best to greet you personally and check that the accommodations were to your liking. As the prince's personal esteemed guest, if you should need anything, do feel free to come to me."

Prompto attempted to rearrange his features into a more confident expression as responded in kind, "Oh yeah, sure, got it. And the name's Prompto."

Wow , it felt weird to introduce himself for a change. Usually, in the rare instances where someone needed to differentiate between him and the rest of his likewise nameless, faceless comrades, Loqi would do that for him. Doing it on his own felt...empowering? Nah, not really the right word for it. He just thought it was cool to get to tell someone his name without having to resist the urge to roll his eyes at an underlying tone of distaste.

What struck him as even stranger was the idea of someone actually waiting on him like he was some kind of prince. They realized he was just a grunt, right? A grunt who was still standing in the wrong room waiting to be caught, as a matter of fact. With Ignis going out of his way to be so hospitable, the thought suddenly occurred to Prompto that this might be a test-maybe they were hoping he would go with the flow so they could cry treason or something. It really wouldn't surprise him in the slightest.

So, because he was too good a soldier and valued his continued existence for the time being, Prompto glanced around the room and continued, "Actually, I...uh...guess there is something. It looks like you guys...gave me the wrong room?"

Confusion flickered across Ignis's features, but his tone was even when he replied, "My apologies, Prompto. If this room is not suitable for you, we may have something bigger on a separate floor. It was my understanding, however, that you all wished to be housed in the same guest wing." He frowned, looking around the room before adding, "Are there certain features you require that we can accommodate?"

Blinking, Prompto opened his mouth and tried to form words to no avail. What?!

He honestly hadn't thought his eyes could get any wider after everything he'd seen that day, but it looked like they were bound and determined to prove him wrong. It felt for a moment like they were about to fall out of his head, just like his jaw where it had dropped straight down towards the floor at the insinuation that he would be unhappy with this amazing, beautiful, insane, not possibly his bedroom.

"No! Noooo no no no-dude, that's-I mean, Ignis , it's-it's totally cool! It's great! Like, beyond great! There's not even a word for how greatly... great this room is," he stumbled over himself to assure the prince's chamberlain.

The idea that this wasn't good enough was... wow . Who would think that? Well, okay, maybe the emperor or even Loqi would throw a mini fit that there weren't servants waiting in the closet to come in and do everything for them. That was literally the only thing he could think of that the room was missing-it was already equipped with far more than he ever could have dreamed of.

Must be nice, being royalty , he sighed internally. It didn't erase the fact that ruling a country had to be a bitch, but still, there were clearly some perks.

Perks that he really needed to reassure Ignis about if his first assumption was that Prompto would ever be displeased with a place like this .

"It's just, uh...super fancy?" He shrugged lamely. "I kinda figured this was maybe the emperor's room and, like, we got switched. Didn't want anyone getting in trouble for something so..." Trivial? Stupid? Brilliant? "...small."

That'll work.

Prompto wasn't sure he liked the look that Ignis was giving him the longer he spoke, especially not with the silence that now followed his confession. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that Ignis was reading his thoughts just by staring. Talk about unnerving.

Luckily, Prompto had a pretty good game face. He had not lasted this long in Niflheim by giving away all his intentions, after all. He didn't like to brag (because it garnered attention, and that was the last thing he needed), but he had become a self-taught expert on keeping information in and himself out of trouble.

So, whatever Ignis had read from him, it couldn't have been too vital to his mission here. His scrutinizing gaze fell away as he finally answered, "Well, I can assure you that no mistakes were made in the room assignments."

Which left Prompto at a total loss. If this wasn't the emperor's bedchamber, then what was his room like? He understood that they were all gathered in the same wing, but Prompto couldn't imagine how something grander than his own room could exist on this floor alone.

Ignis apparently wasn't going to tell him, either. Instead, he motioned towards the door with a friendly (albeit detached) smile.

"I thought since we will all be spending a considerable amount of time together in the foreseeable future, you would like a small tour of the Citadel," Ignis offered, shaking Prompto from his thoughts before his imagination took over the job of conjuring up a mental picture of Aldercapt's suite. "I would be happy to accompany you down to the dining halls in time for tonight's banquet, as well, unless you had a prior arrangement with your commander."

A few seconds passed where Prompto attempted to reconcile this chamber of the gods being his with the idea of having a prior arrangement with Loqi. For one thing, if Ignis wanted to let him stay here, there was no way in hell Prompto would argue with him for less spectacular accommodations. For another, it was literally laughable to think that Loqi would want to be around him any longer than absolutely necessary. They'd already exhausted their share of quality time for one day-probably for the whole month, really-and they hadn't even gotten through their swanky dinner yet.

Masking a reluctant grimace at the idea of spending the evening keeping up appearances, Prompto plastered a smile on his face and answered, "Nope, my commander probably has other things to do right now, so that'll be great!"

Ugh, he was using that word an awful lot. Ignis probably thought he was some kind of hick, but then again, the guy was used to all this. For Prompto, it was mind-boggling that someone of his rank would be treated like he was some kind of diplomat deserving of luxury. He wouldn't complain, of course, but he still had reason to be a little tongue-tied regardless of how the prince's chamberlain judged him.

And he was definitely judging him, at least a little bit. Prompto didn't miss the small looks that Ignis had given him when it came to a couple of his responses, although he couldn't say he hadn't expected as much. It only made sense that if he was sizing up the Lucians, they were doing the same as well. It probably didn't help that the whole point of these negotiations was for Niflheim to make demands of them, which was why Prompto had made it his goal to be as unassuming as possible.

The rest of the envoys might be dead set on hampering his efforts, but Prompto had to assume he was doing pretty okay so far.

And if he was going to be staying here awhile, then a tour of the Citadel would be a nice start on the road to adjusting. Of course, it might not even be necessary: he doubted it could be anywhere near as confusing as Zegnautus. That place was a maze inside a maze inside another maze; he personally wondered whether they'd just hired so many architects that they couldn't keep things straight or if it was designed to be so insane purely for bragging rights. Knowing the emperor, it was probably the latter. By comparison, the Citadel seemed pretty straightforward so far, and exploring it was a little like telling him he could walk around Gralea on his own-tantalizing.

Wandering the enemy castle, however, would probably require a clean uniform. He didn't want to look like a total slob opposite the Lucian contingent, and Ignis was already being so patient with him that he didn't have the heart to make the guy bring him all the way up here again just so they could go right back down to dinner. He'd probably have his hands full with the prince as it was.

"Maybe, just...let me change first," Prompto qualified with an apologetic grin. If he'd been on the ball, he could have found the closet and changed before the chamberlain arrived instead of making him wait all because he had to jump on the bed.

...Worth it.

And not something he could change, so why worry?

Choosing an outfit was pointless when they were all the same, so Prompto simply grabbed the first hanger on the right (because the closet was big enough to have racks on two whole sides and the back!) and tossed it on the mess of sheets he'd left earlier. At the rate he was going, he thought as he perfunctorily removed his jacket and began to pull his black turtleneck over his head, he would only have to double up on outfits instead of wearing them for three days straight. That would be a welcome change.

"Sorry. It'll just be a second!"

"Yes, that quite al-"

Prompto turned as Ignis trailed off mid-sentence. The chamberlain was no longer looking in his direction and appeared to be engrossed in his phone, doing everything possible to avoid eye contact. Frowning, Prompto dropped the turtleneck over his torso again, hesitant to ask Ignis what was wrong. Clearly, he'd done something to cause him to react in such a manner-the question was what.

"If you would like some privacy," Ignis explained, keeping his eyes on his phone as he spoke, "your bathroom also serves as a changing room. There is a basket in which to place your used clothing for cleaning."

Wait. Was that what this was all about? Prompto found the intensity with which Ignis was staring at his phone almost comical, especially now that he knew the reason. A moment after he opened his mouth to ask why he would waste time using a changing room-whatever that was-he snapped it shut, thinking better of that decision. Was it a Lucian thing to use a separate room to switch clothes or just an Ignis thing? And he'd used that word again-privacy-like it was something Prompto should expect instead of a gift they'd decided to offer him.

There was no such thing as privacy or modesty or solitude when you lived with a couple dozen other people. You changed in front of each other, slept in front of each other, relieved yourself in front of each other-there was a pattern that you got used to pretty quick if you were going to survive.

Ignis was accustomed to serving a prince, though, so he probably hadn't been exposed to that kind of thing. Prince Noctis's Shield would likely understand a little better.

Wincing at the thought of that towering behemoth and his freaky haircut, Prompto grabbed his clean uniform from the bed and muttered a quick apology before he darted into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

He was nervously straightening and re-adjusting his collar when he emerged exactly two minutes later (he'd counted), in fresh clothes and longing to try that amazing shower. The very last thing he needed was to offend the prince's chamberlain when the latter was one of two keys to completing his mission. Given that he was one of the people who spent the most time around his target, gaining Ignis's trust was imperative to Prompto's success. Right now, with his ignorance and misunderstandings and narrowly avoided nudity, he figured he wasn't doing such a hot job in that department.

"Sorry about that," he apologized again, his eyes on his hands instead of his companion, "and for taking so long. But, uh...ready!"

Apparently it had been his public changing that rattled Ignis, because the chamberlain pocketed his phone and resumed his calm façade as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired. Man, Lucians sure were uppity. Well, maybe that wasn't entirely fair. Loqi probably would have acted in a similar but more violent manner if Prompto had started tossing clothes around in front of him. Maybe it was just a privileged-people sort of thing?

"It's quite alright," Ignis assured him. "We have plenty of time before the banquet. His Majesty presumed that your dear emperor needed an adequate nap."

Prompto bit back a grin at the admittedly petty insult leveled at Aldercapt's age. It wasn't as if Ignis was wrong in his assertion: the emperor had grown increasingly cranky the closer they got to Insomnia, although that probably didn't have as much to do with how old he was as the simple fact that he was an asshole. Throw that in with the fact that they had to take the stairs on their way to the audience chamber and all the vitriol that he'd spewed at King Regis, and Prompto wouldn't be surprised if Emperor Aldercapt didn't have enough energy to at least bitch about the accommodations before falling asleep.

He couldn't exactly say that, though, so Prompto simply nodded in agreement and trailed behind Ignis as the latter motioned him through the door.

Following his lead, Prompto took it upon himself to pay close attention to where they were going and how they got there. He had been too busy shaking off his initial nerves from meeting with Lucian royalty before, so he hadn't been nearly as focused and missed more than he cared to admit.

Ignis stopped them in front of the guest wing's elevator, pressing the button to take them below as he explained, "You have full access to the lower level of the Citadel. From nine in the morning until six in the evening, so does the entirety of the city. Thus, I would suggest avoiding venturing down there during those intervals."

Prompto figured he knew what that meant: the Lucians don't want you here, so do us a favor and don't let them see you . He had caught enough of a glimpse at the protestors outside the Citadel gates to know they weren't exactly thrilled with Niflheim's arrival. That was no different than back in Gralea, though, not really. Just about everyone wanted the troopers to stay out of sight unless they needed them for something.

"The kitchen is always open, but if you should require anything, you need only call and it will be brought to you," Ignis continued until the doors to the elevator opened onto a floor Prompto hadn't seen before. It wasn't too different from the others he'd been on, but the light was different-brighter.

"Right this way," Ignis directed him, heading towards an outdoor garden while Prompto hurried to follow suit.

He was so busy absorbing everything Ignis told him that he didn't bother commenting on everything he heard. Hopefully the prince's chamberlain wouldn't mind; it was just that there was so much to focus on that words escaped him. It was surprising enough that the Citadel allowed civilians in at all, but to offer their enemies free rein in certain parts of the building? That sounded like a mistake waiting to happen.

Zegnautus Keep never opened its doors to anyone who wasn't designated necessary personnel. The emperor was a given, as was that oddball chancellor and their kooky arms developer. Other than them, however, it was just a constant flow of soldiers and scientists and the unfortunate victims of the latter's experiments. There were no gilded elevators waiting to take you down to greet the public; there was no direct service from the kitchens to your room. (For one thing, you didn't have a room. For another, that was so cool !)

There were definitely no breathtaking gardens full of bright light and a plethora of colors as far as the eye could see. Prompto shuffled a few steps ahead, gaping widely as he tried to memorize every single detail.

"This...is...so...awesome! There's so much... green !" It wasn't that they didn't see trees in Gralea, of course-they were just potted plastic plants instead of what he could only surmise from the smell were the real deal. Most of the city had been paved over, so his view outside the Keep during his security rotations usually consisted of concrete and the towering metal buildings that tended to blot out the sun. Everything else was...snow. Just snow. Sometimes there would be a dot of red in it from the last battle they had with the Kingsglaive, but otherwise, Niflheim was white all the way to the horizon. According to one of the other guys in his unit, that had a lot to do with how close they were to the Glacian's resting spot. Worthy memorial or not, it got old to look at.

Flying over Insomnia, Prompto hadn't gotten a chance to see whether it was the same. If the state of this garden was any indication, he seriously doubted it.

"I can not believe this is a thing." Whirling around, Prompto excitedly inquired, "And you can come here anytime you want?!"

"I do suppose we have a more temperate climate than you're used to. I'm afraid snow in these parts is a bit of an oddity," Ignis noted with a thoughtful hum as he nodded in response to Prompto's question. "You may come here as you see fit, as well. There are other gardens and parks outside the Citadel that I'm sure His Highness would not be opposed to visiting as part of your education. Should you be interested," he added, scanning Prompto's attire once more. "However, I would suggest that if we were to do so, it would be wise to obtain for you some less…noticeable garments."

Without further elaboration on his dig at Prompto's garments, Ignis pointed down one of the pathways and remarked, "This one does go on for quite a ways, including a small fountain and fish pond near the back."

The reminder about the whole education pretense brought Prompto up short before he had a chance to make a bigger idiot out of himself over the idea of a water feature. It was a really good thing that that was their story, because he had a feeling he would need to fall back on it a lot if he kept finding out things like this were standard in Lucis. It was just so unreal.

The only bit of Ignis's spiel that made a lick of sense to him was the concern over his outfit causing a scene. Why would Ignis care about that, though? They weren't here to be friendly-it was a hostile takeover! But here he was, acting like Prompto was within spitting distance of his prince's importance again.

He probably just doesn't want to tick off the emperor by treating his envoy badly. Soon as they're gone, it's back to normal.

There was nothing wrong with enjoying the service for now, though, right? He may as well make as much headway into a relationship with these people as he could while it would be at least a little simpler.

So, nodding slowly, Prompto decided to try his luck and started down the path with tentative steps. It wasn't his castle, so he figured it was best not to get too ahead of himself if Ignis thought they should head somewhere else-but damn, he wanted to see the water!

"So...gardens inside, parks outside. Fountains and fishing ponds and flowers and all that," he mused, letting his fingers brush a bit of shrubbery hanging low beside the path. "Doesn't it get kinda...distracting?"

Maybe that was yet another stupid question, but Prompto couldn't help asking regardless. In part, he hoped that it would disarm Ignis enough to let him wander freely; his curiosity was still genuine, though. In Gralea, pretty stuff was considered a useless, silly frivolity that would just make you lazy. If half of Insomnia reveled in things like that as much as it seemed with their gardens and fancy rooms, it was no wonder they'd lost the war.

"Distracting?" Ignis echoed, seeming to mull the question over. Apparently that wasn't the question the chamberlain had been expecting, although that might have been his own fault. As far as Prompto could tell, he and Ignis were the only people in the garden at the moment, meaning that everyone else in the Citadel obviously had more pressing business elsewhere.

"I suppose it would be if you had never seen it before," Ignis replied, both confirming and negating Prompto's suspicions. "Though it seems that once you become accustomed to it, you tend to forget its charms."

With that said, Ignis started further down the track and redirected the subject to something less potentially insulting: "The pond is this way if you're interested. Not many garden distractions in Gralea, I take it?"

"You can say that again," Prompto chuckled after a fraction of a second. Loqi probably wouldn't want him giving away much about Niflheim, but you had to give a little to get anything in return, especially when dealing with people who had every reason not to trust you. Plus, they were just talking about the weather and trees, something Lucis could easily determine by sending someone outside and telling them not to blink.

"Gralea's more of a"-he paused a moment, snapping his fingers when he remembered the phrase the chancellor had used once- "concrete jungle. Trees and stuff just get in the way."

Prompto didn't bother specifying what it got in the way of , figuring Ignis was probably smart enough to guess all on his own. Or maybe it wouldn't really be a guess -it was no secret to anyone what the empire cared most about. That frequently meant cutting down the nature to make room for bigger, more mechanical marvels.

Still, there was something to be said for the green stuff. And apparently the blue stuff, too.

" Wow ," gasped Prompto. He jogged the last bit of distance between Ignis and a sizable pond to the side of the walkway. It was the biggest body of water he'd seen up close since that puddle on the side of the road when they'd left the Keep. And that wasn't all... "There are fish in here!"

Ignis responded with a tentative smile in amusement, nodding at his observation. He didn't share Prompto's enthusiasm, though, and he almost found himself regretting that he'd pointed it out like an idiot. Almost . There was something to be said for lulling your enemy into a false sense of security. Ignis might not have been Prompto's target, but if he had any hopes of getting near the prince, he'd first have to convince the prince's stuffy babysitter that he was mostly harmless.

Which appeared to be working, if he was reading the terrain right.

"There is a much larger aquarium within the city, if you care to see. It may take some convincing, but I'm certain His Highness could be persuaded to go. For educational purposes." He adjusted his glasses, sparing a quick gaze for the pond before his eyes were back on Prompto. "Surely, though, you must have far grander forms of entertainment in Gralea."

Prompto didn't register the question at first, too busy watching the bustling activity beneath the surface of the water. He wasn't entirely sure what aquariums were like in Lucis (Gralea's were full of the deadliest sea creatures they could possibly find, but that was no surprise); if they even slightly compared to the pond, he was already game. The way the fish swam around in innocent circles, not even attempting to eat one another, was mesmerizing to the point where he couldn't bring himself to feel embarrassed by his own reaction. Animals weren't welcome in the Keep; anything other than the guard dogs just got in the way. The thought of Loqi's face if they snuck a pet in was actually comical-or it would have been until he remembered that his commander would probably make whoever tried scrub toilets for a month. And kill the animal. Totally not worth it.

So absorbed was he with the glittering diamonds that sparkled back at him from the water and the shimmer of a fish's scales that he almost answered Ignis honestly-almost, but not quite.

"E-Entertainment?" he stuttered incredulously before he caught himself and pasted a carefully blank expression on his face. Now they were treading into territory Loqi and the emperor would caution him against discussing. Life inside Zegnautus was strictly confidential, not for the knowledge of their own people let alone an enemy chamberlain. The guy was pretty cool and definitely more welcoming than Prompto would have expected, but he wasn't going to kid himself: he was still very much a threat to Prompto's mission. Spilling small, seemingly trivial information about Niflheim might not be disastrous in itself; the lackadaisical attitude it would foster, however, might.

So, clearing his throat, Prompto shrugged a shoulder and replied, "Oh, y'know, we've got our free time to do whatever."

Two lies in one sentence-he would have earned major brownie points in espionage and infiltration if anyone actually gave a shit. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't dealing with a run-of-the-mill soldier like most of the people he interacted with.

Ignis did not appear bothered by Prompto's answer,though, which came as a bit of a relief. Perhaps he really hadn't been digging for information and was just making polite small talk. Either way, Prompto figured he dodged a bullet there.

"Well," Ignis remarked, clearing his throat and attempting to push back against the silence that had settled in following Prompto's answer, "if there is an activity you would like to indulge in, please feel free to ask."

Ignis gaze turned back to the pond, now watching the fish instead of Prompto as he continued, "I'm afraid your emperor's intentions for you weren't entirely clear. As such, I ask that you forgive our current disorganized state in those regards. I assure you, we shall have it figured out soon enough and be able to accommodate."

Man, I hope not, mused Prompto silently.

This wasn't really the way he'd expected the conversation to go, and he was already regretting whatever slip-up he'd made to get them here. Maybe this was why Loqi usually spoke for him-if he pushed Ignis further, he'd probably have the whole plot worked out by lunch tomorrow. Not that the guy wasn't intelligent enough to pull it off sooner, if being the prince's chamberlain meant anything at all. Prompto didn't need to give him reasons to go digging, though.

Shrugging back into his less suspicious behavior, he hoped it was more disarming when he casually remarked, "Pretty sure he's not too picky. Mostly he wanted to learn a little about what he's getting into with everything in the treaty. He probably wouldn't care if you just taught me some stupid folk dance- not that you should do that," he hastened to add, "because nobody wants to see me try to dance, but...you get it."

Only half a lie this time, so he was on a roll. The emperor truly didn't care what he learned as long as he did so with the prince bleeding out on the floor. If he stuck to the story they'd rehearsed ad nauseam before leaving Gralea, there was no reason for Prince Noctis's chamberlain to ever know that.

He just had to hope Ignis bought his response. After all, the Lucians couldn't be stupid enough to think that Prompto had been brought along for them to babysit. They already knew firsthand that the empire was calculating and the emperor himself was extremely picky. In fact, Prompto had heard before they left the Keep that Aldercapt had sent specific instructions on how things should be set up for his arrival, right down to the thread count he wanted in his sheets. No, the Lucians would surely dig to find out Prompto's true purpose here. He just had to keep them away from any real answers long enough to get his job done.

Hopefully, with all the imperial envoys present, they would focus more on their king and Crystal than the sheltered prince.

"I'm sure we can manage something more than a dance," Ignis replied mildly, giving Prompto virtually nothing to go on with regards to how his response had been received.

Great...

As if sensing the tension in the room, a small black and white cat wandered nearby before he could continue. The creature stretched out and then turned its attention to the two of them, mewling softly.

Where Prompto could only stare in wonder, Ignis sighed, clearly annoyed with the emergence of the cat. "I suppose I forgot to mention that the gardens play host to a few of Insomnia's strays."

"That's, uh...cool?"

He couldn't think of anything else to say. He wasn't stupid-he knew what a cat was-but it was still the first time he'd seen one in person. Dogs were by no means in short supply at the Keep, though. They were big, they were mean, they were ugly-so, basically Loqi on any given Tuesday. If cats were anything like them, then it would be better to keep his distance.

The way Ignis made it sound, however, it seemed that that wasn't the case. If it were, he'd probably have removed Prompto from the garden just to avoid an international incident. Well, that or Ignis would have left him to be eaten. It was a possibility, albeit an unlikely one.

That thought gave Prompto the courage to shuffle forward a few steps, holding out a finger and hiding a wince when the cat sniffed at it calmly.

"G-Good kitty," he tried to soothe it. His voice totally didn't crack at all . "Niiiice kitty."

For a second, it looked like he'd be right: the cat gave him a few cursory snuffles before bumping her head into his palm. By the time it progressed to the belly scratching stage, which was way more enjoyable than he ever would have thought possible, Prompto was about to tell Ignis that he should give the little guys a break.

True to form, that was when the sneaky monster slashed the inside of his forearm with an adorable squeal.

"Ow! H-Hey!"

It was too late: the cat had already scrambled back to its feet and dashed into the bushes.

Shooting a betrayed glance at Ignis, Prompto rubbed at his superficial injury as he nervously inquired, "You, uh...don't think they've got anything... catching , right?"

Clearly the little daemon kitten's temperament was why Ignis had been so aggravated with the cat's presence in the first place. Prompto figured he had a good reason to be-who knew what kind of diseases the little beast was carrying?

"I imagine you'll be fine," Ignis responded lightly, squashing any small hope of sympathy Prompto might have been holding out for. "I must say, though, I don't believe they've ever lashed out at His Highness in such a manner. Perhaps you should try your luck with dogs instead."


Noctis bent down to retrieve the jar of hair gel that Gladio had chucked at his head with a scowl. Leave it to his Shield: no matter how rough things got, Gladio would endeavor to maintain a certain level of meathead all the same. Noctis might have found such a fact comforting if it wasn't so infuriating.

"Walk it off, sissy," Gladio grumbled as he stalked into the bathroom, flipping the lock behind him with a satisfying click.

Admittedly, there really wasn't any reason for Gladio to be on the receiving end of his ire, petulant hair product slinging notwithstanding. After all, his Shield was just doing his best to keep him from getting one of Ignis's lectures by pressuring him to get a move on, even forgoing time in the training room to make sure he was presentable for the occasion. That didn't mean they hadn't taken a few minutes for the essentials first, though. Unsurprising as it was, Gladio had been incredibly accommodating to Noctis's bitching session-the one where he spent over an hour comparing the emperor to various rotting vegetables. All things considered, he supposed he couldn't get too mad about having his hair gel tossed at his head in an effort to make him move faster: if Gladio was currently playing the role of chamberlain in Ignis's stead, then he, too, would be the one hearing it if Noctis turned up late appearing anything less than princely.

The fact that Noctis was not at all looking forward to tonight didn't matter in the slightest.

"My guess is this dinner'll be a real treat," Gladio joked, his voice carrying from beyond the door. "Least they're on the other side of the Citadel for now. Not like we've all gotta live together for the next few days."

Noctis snorted. What Gladio didn't say was that someone would have ended up dead in that situation, and if his Shield had it his way, then it sure as hell wasn't going to be him or any other Lucians.

Thankfully, it hadn't come to that; his father was too smart to try something so optimistic in light of their present company. Besides, Noctis figured he had enough on his plate to worry about as it was without concerning himself with whoever Gladio may or may not throttle at dinner. He needed to be focused on the important task his father had set to him: his dad was trusting him to get information out of this Niff soldier, and since they'd parted ways earlier, he had become consumed with how he was going to pull that off.

So far? Still no ideas. He'd have to work on that.

"Yeah, but we probably are going to be stuck with that one guy a lot," Noctis grumbled back, fumbling with the lid to his hair gel. He should have offered some of it to Gladio-he could stand to style that mullet of his a little bit for such an important dinner.

Yeah, as if that'll happen.

"What do you think we should do with him?" Noctis asked from the bathroom as he finished styling his hair and changed from one perfectly acceptable outfit into another. Why it would be unseemly for him to wear the same thing he had worn to greet this pompous party of assholes was beyond him. It wasn't as if any of them would notice he was in an entirely different shirt and jacket.

"Wouldn't be a bad idea to drop 'im off a cliff," muttered Gladio, an idea that lifted Noctis's spirits a bit at the mental image it painted. It was a joke, of course-Ignis would never let them even if Gladio were serious-but it admittedly wouldn't be the worst thing to ever happen.

But then again, neither was hosting this Niff, especially if he could help his dad out in the process. He might have hated the notion, but Noctis was well aware of the finer points of diplomacy. He knew there were appearances to be maintained regardless of how you felt on a personal level, which was why he wiped the look of pure annoyance off his face before he stepped out of the bathroom a few moments later, fixing the front strands of his hair.

"Is that what you're wearing?" he scoffed with a skeptical glance at Gladio. If he showed up to some pretentious dinner in Crownsguard fatigues-and dirty ones, at that-Ignis was likely to murder them both.

"Not a chance," snorted Gladio, grabbing a garment bag off the back of the closet door and shoving past Noctis into the bathroom. "Iggy's got everything covered, as usual."

What a surprise.

In spite of the reassuring thought that his friend and chamberlain was more competent than the both of them put together, Noctis peered into his closet while Gladio changed, trying to determine if there were any more of his Shield's outfits stashed in there. As the rest of his wardrobe seemed to lack anything large and sleeveless, he decided to take that as a no . Noctis knew that he hadn't lived here in a while and that having Gladio around all the time was going to be the new norm, but that didn't mean he wanted him just moving into his closet.

Even so, he should have known Ignis would never allow Gladio to show up looking as unkempt as he normally did. He wasn't the royal chamberlain for nothing: Noctis was impressed that Ignis had even managed to find a suit that would fit. It didn't look like it was the most comfortable thing in the world, but dinner would only last a few hours, so Gladio would be able to tough it out.

Actually, it would probably be Noctis who would have a lot to put up with, from the looks of things. When Gladio emerged, he straightened his jacket over its matching black shirt (no tie, because Ignis wasn't an idiot) and leveled Noctis with a rakish grin. "Too bad there won't be any girls worth chatting up there, huh?"

Huffing a humorless laugh, Noctis rolled his eyes. If there were any girls worth chatting up at this banquet, then Gladio would be sure to find them. Still, he glanced over at his Shield, biting back the urge to say something smart in response. He was currently surrounded by enemies in his own home; now was not the time to be poking fun at his allies.

"Probably be impressed that we managed to get a miniature behemoth in a suit for the occasion."

Well, damn. So much for that idea. Fortunately, it wasn't like Gladio could get mad and stalk out. His dad had told him to make friends with the Niff guy; Gladio was obligated to put up with his crap, not that he always bowed to those obligations. Just to be safe, Noctis quickly followed the comment with his own cheeky grin to show he meant nothing by it, settling into one of his armchairs and tugging at the tie around his neck apprehensively.

"Dad wants me to see if I can get any information outta the guy," he blurted out without preamble. All things considered, he figured it was best to let Gladio in on what he and his father had discussed. After all, he would need Gladio's help to pull it off, and as his Shield, Gladio had every right to be let in on his plans.

Not that it would surprise Noctis if Gladio was already aware of what his dad was up to. Both of their fathers spent their days with strategists and councils that made some of the most important decisions in Lucis; it only made sense that they would already be a step ahead of the bullshit brigade they were currently hosting.

As he expected, Gladio didn't rail against the idea as if it was some big surprise. Instead, he grunted noncommittally and murmured, "Figured as much."

Noctis glanced up at him, hoping he would provide more input on the matter than that . Something other than beat it out of him would have worked, too, but he wasn't being picky at this point.

"You think commando doofus knows anything?" he prodded pointedly, grimacing an instant later. If they were going to make this work, he really needed to keep the sarcastic comments to a minimum. For now, Noctis was merely grateful that Ignis was currently handling that pitiful excuse for a soldier: no matter how smart he thought he was, he'd be no match for their resident encyclopedia-slash-mothering-handbook . A sentiment that Gladio echoed, albeit slightly less sardonically.

"My guess? Iggy's already working on finding out. He might not know a whole lot, but every little bit counts. Anything that gives us an edge going into the negotiations is worth the hassle."

The words clearly left a bitter taste in Gladio's mouth, but luckily he knew there were times for blind aggression and times for unfortunate acceptance of a bad hand. For the time being, they'd have to deal with the latter.

"You think you got what it takes to wheedle it outta him?" Gladio teased in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work, but Noctis appreciated it nonetheless.

Not that that stopped him from making a strangled noise to let Gladio know just what he thought of his question.

"Uh, yeah," he answered, finally fixing his tie. "And if all else fails, you can just beat it out of him."

Gladio's face lit up with an inordinate amount of glee, and Noctis rolled his eyes as he stood up, scuffing his shoe against the floor. He was not looking forward to a whole evening of pretending that peace and unity were even part of the empire's agenda. In fact, he would have very much liked it if Gladio decided to say screw the fancy-pants party, we're getting burgers.

Your father will be there, he reminded himself. There was no way he would make him go at this alone, not even for a whole plate of fries that definitely wouldn't be on the menu tonight. Noctis wouldn't be alone either: he had Ignis and Gladio, which was two more friends than he considered himself worthy of having.

Ignis was already at the other end of the Citadel laying the groundwork for him, and Gladio would be doing everything he could to protect him during the long game they'd be playing. The thought made Noctis frown-he didn't think he'd ever truly be able to repay the debt he owed them.

He was sure going to try, though.

Opening his arms, he submitted himself to Gladio's appraisal. "What do you think? Specs-approved?"

Noctis tried not to look to apprehensive as Gladio surveyed him with a critical eye. Yeah, he was aware that it wasn't often that he decided to look the part (see: that Ignis made him ), but when he did, he had hope that he pulled it off well enough.

This time, it was apparently enough. After a moment, Gladio shrugged carelessly and assured him, "He'll be the happiest person at this damn shit show."

Noctis seriously doubted that, but out of the three of them, he at least had the best chance. After all, his job was done, and impressively so. The rest of them were busy scrambling to do the same.

Guess we'd better get on that.

As if reading his mind, Gladio cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the hallway.

"Speaking of, it's about time we paid him a visit. Don't feel like getting chewed out for only being ten minutes early." Gladio grinned as he made to open the door with a sweeping and sarcastic bow. "After Your Highness."


Regis knew that after their meeting with the envoys, his Shield wanted nothing more than to whisk him away to the safety of his quarters for some much needed rest. In fact, he counted himself most fortunate that Clarus was so understanding of the fact that his time spent with Noctis was limited and had allowed him that brief moment to lift his spirits. Now he could head to the impending banquet with renewed vigor.

It was a boost that he discovered he required far more than he'd anticipated. No true rest had come after retiring to his chambers: Regis's thoughts were plagued with the increasingly unfortunate situation they found themselves in. He thought it bad enough that the vipers were in their city, but to put one of them in direct contact with his own son was all but unbearable.

Seeming to sense his thoughts, Clarus nodded towards him with a wry grin. "It is good that the prince has returned to stay at the Citadel. Otherwise, we would have no caretaker for their esteemed soldier."

Quirking an eyebrow, Regis replied with equal disdain, "Fortunate indeed. I have no doubt the emperor is pleased to have been accommodated so thoroughly."

That was quite the understatement: despite minimal rebellions, such as hosting Niflheim's envoys in a lesser audience chamber, Regis had been clear that no expense was to be spared in ensuring their unwanted guests' comfort. When the wolves were thousands of miles away, it was rather a different matter; there was little need to engage in these cautious, formal games. Now, however, the enemy was underfoot, a fox in the proverbial henhouse. Lucis was not in a position to antagonize them with childish insolence. No, much as he might wish otherwise, they were obligated to operate at Aldercapt's bidding.

If only he hadn't been so keen on dragging Noctis into the middle of whatever scheme he had constructed-and it was a scheme, of that he had no doubt. The emperor did nothing without some sort of gain awaiting him at the end of his endeavors. That thought in conjunction with Aldercapt's clear preference for Noctis's involvement was more than mildly discomforting.

"It makes me uneasy to allow their dogsbody within such close proximity to Noctis," Regis admitted as he absently surveyed the outfit his chamberlain had laid out for him. "Whatever his excuses, I fear that a more nefarious purpose may be at the heart of this arrangement."

"Perhaps he believes that Prince Noctis knows extensive secrets within Insomnia. A more likely possibility, however, is that he knows it will bother you to have one of his own acting as an unwanted shadow," observed Clarus sympathetically. "I would say the emperor is determined to divide your attention and shake your resolve. You must trust that Noctis will handle his battles as you focus on yours. After all, he does have a rather excellent support system."

Regis knew that Clarus spoke of his own son and smiled. If anything, Gladiolus would keep a careful eye on Noctis should anything appear amiss-just as Clarus would continue to do for Regis.

"I have no doubt of that."

"Rest assured: if there is a plot that involves the prince, we shall uncover it."

Regis hummed but didn't answer, and the sound of his cane against the marble floors was all that broke the silence as he carried the raiment to his changing room. If it was indeed the emperor's intent to divide his attention, then his plot had been successful. He knew that Clarus was right: Noctis was more than capable of managing himself even in the face of this pervasive, inescapable threat. Even so, he was Regis's son , and there would always be a part of him that could see Noctis only as a little boy- his little boy. He wanted nothing more than to seal his child away from their enemies and barricade the door so that they might never find him.

What he wanted had never been enough, though. It never would.

Such was the burden of ruling.

So, when the door was closed behind him, Regis paused and nodded resolutely to himself. He trusted his own Shield implicitly and without question. That did not mean that Regis was unwilling to take some added, perhaps unnecessary precautions.

"Gladiolus will be at Noctis's side consistently for the duration of the negotiations," he ordered through the door, raising his voice so that his friend and confidant would hear him clearly. "Wheresoever he should go, his Shield must both know and accompany him. Capable though my son may be, I will not risk his safety, even in pursuit of unlocking Emperor Aldercapt's secrets. See it done."

Whatever this dinner and the subsequent proceedings would bring, Regis's goal had never been clearer: to protect his kingdom if he could, but to see his son through at all costs.

"I would not have it any other way," Clarus responded without fail, adding dryly, "and I shall see to it that it is the same for you."

Chuckling, Regis shook his head and murmured, "I find myself utterly unsurprised."

"I will speak to Gladiolus this evening and be sure that he knows what is expected of him during their stay," Clarus continued reassuringly, either not having heard or ignoring his jest.

It was a small comfort to Regis, but he would take it all the same. His oldest friend was aware of his misgivings, yes, but he was perhaps the only person who knew without a doubt that no matter how old Noctis grew or how capable he proved himself to be, Regis would continue to view him as the vulnerable eight-year-old he had once been. He would continue to see the little boy who had somehow managed to survive when the shadows came for him.

And he had good reason. This time, the daemons were sharing their roof and were far more clever.

"I assume that Prince Noctis has settled in well?" Clarus suddenly asked, steering them to what he likely deemed to be a safer subject. Regis smiled to hear it.

"Whatever reservations he may have, he has been kind enough to not give them voice. Pity for an old man must stay his tongue."

Older in appearance than in years, of course, but it ultimately amounted to the same thing. As Regis divested himself of his earlier attire, he was reminded that time and the Crystal had not been kind. His knees ached as he struggled to lift them into a set of much finer trousers; he could hear his joints popping when he shrugged his ceremonial golden ornamentation over his mantle. Anywhere he went, he was forever accompanied by the incessant tapping of his cane and clanking of his leg brace. Clarus was five years his senior, yet in aesthetics Regis had no doubt he would be mistaken for the older of two.

Someday, perhaps very soon, there would be no place for him here. He would be too weak to maintain the Wall and rule his kingdom, the Crystal having leeched from him all that he had to offer. On that day, his child would begin the same gradual, premature decline that he had been subjected to when his own father passed. If Noctis was unhappy at the prospect of coming home, Regis was more grateful than words could describe that he was not making it obvious. As time flowed steadily towards the end of his reign, all he wanted in his final years was to spend as much of them with his son as possible without the shadow of their fates casting gloom upon their interactions.

Tonight would be the beginning of their partnership, and Regis could not deny that he had long awaited this day. On this day, everything would change.

Stepping back out in his formal attire, Regis took a deep breath and mustered a smile for his Shield-his friend, his brother in all the ways that mattered. Yes, everything would change, but that would ever remain the same.

"Shall we venture once more into the fray, my old friend?"