Author's note:
This is an Ardyn-centric AU told in loosely connected chapters. It was inspired mainly by two fics from AO3; one called "try to see the glass as half full", which is a single scene from an Good!Ardyn kind of AU that I really like, and the other is a one-chapter fic called "Assigned Seating" that pitches forth the idea of Ardyn accompanying the boys from the very start of FFXV as part of the peace treaty.
My version diverges from canon at the "Resist Your Fate" ending of Episode Ardyn, in such a way that Ardyn does not plan to overpower Noctis, but to find a(nother) way past Bahamut to kill Regis and/or Noctis early. Because invading Insomnia has been so easy, he tries again and again, which forces Bahamut to intervene every time, and as a result, Ardyn's hate shifts from his brother's bloodline towards the Astral who keeps denying him his revenge until said revenge becomes meaningless.
Here is a list of things you can expect in this fanfic, so you know what you are getting into:
chaotic good and/or neutral Ardyn Izunia | Noctis' POV (mostly) | Bahamut bashing | canon divergence | fix-it of sorts | everyone lives, nobody dies (well not everybody but some at least) | there's probably some swearing and depictions of violence in it, but nothing too graphic | no explicit pairings | contains a decent dash of humor | some hurt/comfort eventually | because so many of these characters need hugs
Enjoy.
An Unexpected Rescue
All Noctis heard were his father's strained breaths, his echoing footsteps on the marble floors of Festala Manor and the wind rushing past him. With all the strength left in his still wounded body, he clung to Regis. Chaos, pain and destruction was all around. Noctis did not dare to open his eyes, but he knew. The fear for his and his father's lives dominated his insides and he pressed his face deeper into his father's cloak. Somewhere behind them resounded the clanging noises of the heavily armored soldiers pursuing them.
Regis rounded a corner and his steps slowed. An explosion in the distance made the building tremble. He turned this way and that, apparently looking for a way out, before eventually lowering his eight-year-old son down to the floor. Noctis, however, refused to let go of him.
"I have to fight off our pursuers," his father said. "Please, Noctis. I cannot carry you and fight at the same time. It will only take a moment, I promise."
He removed his son's fingers carefully, but firmly, from his coat. When Noctis risked a glance at his face, he saw not only an expression of determination, but also concern. Regis was doing this for them.
Even so, Noctis reached out to him as he turned to face the Magitek soldiers. In Regis' hand, his sword materialised.
Noctis' attempt to stand up was thwarted by his back injury. Pain shot through his body and his legs buckled under him. Wincing, Noctis slumped back onto the floor. Tears of pain and fear stung in his eyes. The feeling of absolute helplessness overcame him. Through his watery view, he watched his father decimate their pursuers and inwardly pleaded that they would make it out of the manor alive.
A loud crash outside the building shook the walls and ceiling. The thunder-like rumble that followed made Noctis look up. Above him, cracks were forming in the stone.
Without further warning, pieces of the ceiling suddenly came loose.
Panic-stricken, Noctis screamed for his father. He struggled; tried to crawl away. Noctis threw his arms over his head in a hopeless attempt to protect himself.
The crashing and rumbling of the stones around him was deafening. The dust that filled the air bit into his eyes and made him cough. It took Noctis time to recover enough to get his bearings. Fortunately, the collapsed ceiling had missed him, but a mountain of rubble and stone separated him from his father.
"Noctis!" shouted Regis from the other side. His voice came through only muffled. "Noctis, are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"Dad!", Noctis called back.
"Stay where you are. I'm coming for you!"
His father's hasty footsteps quickly moved away.
A silence followed that seemed almost eerie to Noctis. He could hear was his own breathing and his heart still pounding with fear. With difficulty, he brought himself back to a sitting position and slowly crawled away from the pile of rubble.
At the end of the corridor, behind the dust that hung in the air like a veil, the silhouette of a man holding a sword appeared. Noctis' breath hitched. His muscles tensed. Panic dug like claws into his heart. This could not be his father. Regis had not possibly been that fast.
The sword in the stranger's hand vanished with a red flash of magic.
"Silly old me," an unfamiliar voice rang out, "I must have mistaken you for one of those nasty soldiers."
Gradually the dust settled. As the man stepped closer, he revealed himself to be neither a general of Niflheim, nor a servant of House Fleuret, nor a member of the Crownsguard. Noctis eyed the stranger warily, unsure of whether he was facing a friend or foe. The stranger's appearance seemed eccentric. Noctis didn't know exactly what the word meant, but nothing seemed to describe the man's clothing better. He wore a heavy, dark coat, a shirt with unnecessarily many frills, a scarf, a red neckerchief and a lopsided hat. The man's peculiarly bright eyes appeared kind, but equally tired. Noctis saw the same tiredness in his father's eyes, not always, but increasingly often.
"Who ... Who are you?", Noctis brought out.
"Just a man desperately trying to make a change," the stranger replied with a sly smile.
The man came even closer, and Noctis struggled to stand again. Just as before, he fell back to the ground in pain. The stranger sank to one knee in front of him. "Now, now. Don't worry. It would not befit me to leave the Prince of Lucis lying amidst all this rubble, would it? Here, allow me to help and reunite you with your father."
Without much hesitation, he lifted Noctis into his arms and stood up. The wound on his back made Noctis draw in his breath sharply, but he did not resist.
"You are so light." The stranger chuckled. "What do they feed you at the Citadel?"
Under other circumstances, Noctis might have said something in reply, but he did not feel like talking. Especially not about home. Nothing seemed more distant than home at that moment, without his father, without Iggy, even without Luna. Why did she have to stay behind? What would the Empire do with her? Tears came to his eyes again and Noctis dug his hands into the stranger's scarf. There was something comforting about the many layers of clothing he wore.
"Well then. There ought to be another corridor just like this one on the other side of the building. I assume that Regis is heading there this very instant."
With Noctis on his arm, the stranger walked out of the corridor and deeper into the manor. He moved in long, almost swaying strides, quite unlike Regis. At least, however, he seemed to know where they had to go.
Noctis wiped a tear from his eye and looked around. It was still surprisingly quiet around them. His fear slowly subsided - until the terrifying clang of metal armour and weapons filled the hall they crossed. The stranger turned and Noctis saw three Magitek axemen running towards them.
"Look, I do not mind the escort, but why do you ...?"
Noctis' fingers tightened around the man's scarf. "Please don't leave me behind," he pleaded softly.
The stranger glanced at him.
"Oh, but of course. They are after you."
The nearest of the soldiers leapt towards them with his weapon raised, but Noctis' self-appointed saviour caught him mid-air with a kick and sent him to the ground.
"Hold on tight!" He pressed Noctis to his chest and dodged the second soldier's blow with a gallant twist.
Noctis was not entirely sure what happened next. He caught a glimpse of some kind of dark energy shooting out from the stranger to the soldiers. A fraction of a second later, their pursuers fell clattering to the ground as if they were discarded toys.
Noctis stared in amazement at the motionless soldiers. "How ...?" was all he managed to say.
"You know, your father is not the only one who possesses magic. However, you would find that my magic is, well, shall we say, substantially different from his." The stranger looked to Noctis with a smug expression on his face. "Let's not dawdle any longer, shall we?"
Finally, they approached the open passageway that led to the parallel corridor. The sounds of a second person hurrying towards them echoed out.
Noctis' rescuer stopped abruptly. A strange glow surrounded him for a second, then he strode cautiously, yet purposefully, around the corner into the corridor.
King Regis came running towards them. The grimness on his face gave way to pure relief as his eyes fell on Noctis.
"Dad!"
"Noctis!"
Hastily, yet not without consideration for Noctis' injury, Regis took the boy from the stranger's arms and held him tight.
"Forgive me, Noctis. I should have never let you go," he said softly, and touched Noctis' forehead with his own.
They remained in a close embrace for a moment before Regis addressed his son's saviour.
"Thank you, so much. If you will tell me your name, then I ..."
His voice trailed off and when Noctis turned his head, the stranger had disappeared as if he had only been a phantom within a daydream.
