Gladiolus found himself outside, his blood raging and his hand throbbing from where he'd hit Ignis. He punched the nearest stone wall twice in quick succession, feeling his knuckles start to bleed and bruise. The guards stared at him, and he scowled back, just itching for a fight. All at once they turned away, ignoring him. At the sudden change, the shield glanced around and saw King Edmund by the door, watching.
"Follow me," ordered the king. For the briefest instant, Gladio thought about refusing. This Narnian wasn't his king, after all. But he was in the man's castle, so with an almost-inaudible grumble he strode after the shorter man. Gladio was led down a stone path until he came to a large, open courtyard filled with training equipment. A couple of soldiers sparred in one corner with swords and small round shields, but at their king's wave, they bowed and left them alone.
"Spar with me," commanded King Edmund, heading to a rack of practice weapons. The man typically wore a calm, almost amused expression, but right now his face bore nothing but dark concentration.
"Bring it on," growled the shield. He chose the biggest longsword he could find; it was about as heavy as his greatsword in Lucis but lacked the length and width. Still, he had trained with a variety of weapons, and he knew he would be fully capable of wielding this one without any difficulty. The king selected a broadsword, inspecting the dulled edge before deciding that it was suitable.
But in spite of Gladio's eagerness to grind this arrogant man into the dirt, thereby hopefully burning away some of his fury, he was disappointed. King Edmund was like a wall, always there to block, to deflect, to parry each blow. The king smiled mockingly, and it fed his rage. With a roar, Gladio flung himself even harder into the fight. It came as quite the shock when the King tapped him on the side with the flat of the blade and stepped back, signalling the end of the fight.
"Again," ordered the king. Gladio attacked quickly, trying to surprise his opponent. But once again, King Edmund was ready for him, easily slipping by his guard as he lunged and tapping his thigh with the flat of his blade once again. Another killing blow.
Gladio adjusted his grip. He took a deep breath, centering himself for the next round, and once again began to attack and defend. It was going better that time. He continued to advance, pushing the smaller man backwards.
"Disappointing," goaded the king as Gladio's strike was once again unable to unbalance the smaller man's stance. Gladio pushed harder, snarling, and chanced a crushing blow at the man's legs. King Edmund merely stepped back out of reach, lashing out with his own blade and knocking the longsword away to clatter harmlessly on the ground. Gladio bent to pick up his sword, gripping it tightly and wishing that he could summon his greatsword. Alas, it was stuck in the armiger.
"Again," said Gladio, raising his sword into position once more. King Edmund shrugged and attacked. Gladio easily parried, striking quickly at the shorter man's head and shoulders. His opponent skipped quickly back, only to lunge forward, jabbing the tip of his blunted weapon into the shield's arm as Gladio swung his weapon wide. Not a lethal strike, so the spar would continue. It hurt, but he'd fought through far worse.
"Are you always such a failure?" Gladio gritted his teeth, winding up and striking with all the power of his back and legs. The swords struck together with a resounding crunch. King Edmund knew better than to try to block such a blow; instead he angled his sword so it knocked his adversary's weapon up and out of the way. Gladio tried a second strike right away instead of waiting to see where his opponent would move next, and once again he overextended himself. The king sidestepped his attack and brought his sword down gently on the man's shoulder, chopping down at the neck.
"I win again," he said smugly. "Your position of shield wouldn't happen to be inherited, would it?" King Edmund asked. A sheen of perspiration coated his face, but he was barely out of breath. He saw Gladio's expression, and he huffed out a laugh. "It is, of course it is. Obviously!"
"I earned my place," growled Gladio, trying to ignore the man's taunts and focus on the combat at hand. "I trained under the Immortal. I beat the Blademaster himself!" They began to spar once more.
"And yet your training was wasted," said the king, blocking an over hand blow with a twisted grin. They fought for almost a minute before he continued. "You can't even break my guard; how are you supposed to defend your king?"
"It's not over yet," said Gladio. This fight was lasting longer than any of the others. He watched the way the man's torso shifted, and he easily parried the strike aimed at his left side. "I don't quit!"
"You'd be doing King Noctis a favor," mused King Edmund. "A weak shield protects naught." Gladio saw red, launching a powerful swing upwards at the King's head. The moment he began the motion, he knew that it was a mistake. Too late, he tried to retreat and avoid the way King Edmund stepped inside his guard and tapped his jaw gently with the pommel of his sword.
"Again!" roared Gladio.
"Haven't you figured it out by now?" King Edmund said tiredly, stepping back. He seemed truly disappointed, not like he was mocking Gladio.
"Figured what out?" The shield was furious and didn't care who knew it.
"Why you keep failing!" retorted the shorter man. "How often do you let your temper make you a liability?"
"I'm no liability," snapped Gladio.
"Each time you lose your temper, I win the bout! I've watched you lose your temper multiple times since we found you in the woods," said King Edmund. "Not half an hour ago, you punched a blind man in the face. You're a bully."
"Take that back," growled Gladio.
"Tell me, how often has your temper hurt King Noctis?" asked the man, his exasperation clear. "How often have you injured him during a spar because you lost control? How often have you caused him problems?"
"I'm not a child; I don't have to listen to this," said Gladio, pushing past the king to return his sword to the rack.
"You've certainly said things to me and my Royal brother that were worthy of regret," said King Edmund pointedly. "You've put your King in the position of having to apologize for your reactions because you were angry and couldn't hold your tongue. You publicly shamed him. A child would have better self-control." An insult sat on the tip of Gladio's tongue, but he knew he would just be proving the man's point; he clenched his jaw and took two long, deep breaths instead. A little more clarity returned to his mind.
"King Noctis needs you," said the King fervently. "He needs you to be his support, his shield, especially now that he knows truly what burden of destiny is placed upon him. He cannot be worrying about you losing control. He cannot be worried about what you will say to others...or to him." Gladio shot King Edmund a sharp look, but the Narnian continued.
"You are a skilled warrior and a fierce opponent, Mr. Amicitia," said King Edmund, "but that is only half of what is required. My brother is High King, and I am shield to his sword. I counsel King Peter, and I am not afraid to speak the words he must hear. But just as I would never raise a blade to my brother, my liege, in anger, neither would I say anything that would wound or undermine or weaken him. He bears burdens as High King that I do not. It is my duty and privilege to serve beside him and protect him and support him, just as he protects and serves all of Narnia."
Gladiolus' anger was slowly bleeding away into hot, bitter shame. He remembered the weeks in Altissia, the train ride; with chagrin, he thought of the many snide comments he'd made during the long, painfully slow trek into Cartanica. He'd intended to goad Noctis until the prince put on the ring just to be contrary, but for the first time he considered how his words must've made Ignis and even Prompto feel. As he remembered some of the more cruel things he'd said to his brother, how he'd deliberately been trying to hurt him enough to get him to finally act like a King, he felt his mortification rise until it was almost choking him. Some shield!
"It is not too late, Mr Amicitia," said King Edmund. "You can choose to keep your temper in check from now on. If you manage to control your anger instead of letting it control you, you will be one of the most formidable opponents I have faced with a sword. Better still, no longer will you hurt your friends and your king with your words and actions. You will be the shield he needs to protect him, protect them all, as he faces his destiny."
"I haven't protected anybody up 'til now," said Gladio hollowly. "Insomnia burned while we were out living large at Galdin Quay. Luna died, Iggy was blinded, and Prompto was tortured. Hell, Ardyn tricked Noct into knocking Prompto off the train! He could've killed him right then and there and I wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop it."
"You cannot protect everyone from all things, particularly when there is a prophecy involved," said King Edmund. His gaze was far away, and he suddenly seemed much older, even though he and Gladio were probably close to the same age. "Those things you speak of happened through no fault of your own. You do not bear the responsibility, and your companions do not blame you."
"I guess we've all messed up," Gladio admitted, thinking of how Noct had allowed his depression to overwhelm him for weeks instead of pushing forward, and of how Ignis had kept the vision in Altissia to himself and let them travel for months in the wrong direction. Even Prompto had gone through hell after his insecurities hadn't alerted him to Ardyn's trickery on the train.
"It takes a different kind of strength to admit to one's mistakes and to bridle one's passions," said King Edmund. "Do you have that strength within you?"
"I'm an Amicitia," said Gladio firmly. "I'll find it."