Summary: Deep within the divided Empire of Niflheim, Prompto struggles to find his position as the battle for power grows. Even his identity as an escaped magitek soldier condemns him. But when Aranea Highwind, the leader of the so-called revolutionists, appears before him with an offer of peace and visions for a better future, can he really say no? Slash.
The Same Blind Eyes
Prologue
"I have a proposition for you," says the woman with unwavering green eyes.
She stands before him, her right hand strategically placed on a spear which dwarfs over her. A tactic, Prompto knows, to coerce him into accepting whatever she has in mind. Maybe even strike some fear. Instead, the action causes him to suppress a chuckle, the feeling of adrenaline making him hysterical with laughter. Although, it is not the knowledge of impending death that instils adrenaline into his veins. Rather, it's the sense of disappointment which causes his stomach to churn almost painfully — a reaction directed towards himself.
Just how could he have been so stupid? He should have known better. Realised that this was a trap the instant he took on the job. There were subtle red flags which sparked his suspicion, but he had chosen to ignore them. Not when he was so close to leaving his life in Niflheim behind him. After this job, Prompto would have earned enough money to pay the asylum fees into the Kingdom of Lucis. He would have been able to restart his life. No longer have to be a mercenary who kills to live barely above the poverty line. That would all be left behind. Instead, he got too cocky – believed that this job would be like the others. It wasn't. He sees that now.
It had all started when an elderly woman – a rich elderly woman, might he add – had placed a bounty on her husband after he had left her high and dry for a much younger man. As the sole executor of his will, she wanted compensation for the emotional damage, and the only way was through his death. On most accounts, it appeared to be easy pickings. All killings placed by the Niflheim aristocracy were. Some typically wanted the death of a relative to consolidate their power and, in this particular case, some just wanted revenge. Plain and simple.
Lady Ariadne Hayes should have been no different, being a woman born into the luxurious wealth that only one per cent of the Niflheim population experienced. It was not only that. House Hayes was one of the most prominent and influential families within the Empire, legitimately related to one of the previous emperors. Though that was a slight lie. Emperor Algernon was a known flirt, sleeping around with any woman he could find. So it was no surprise when bastard children were born; Clement Hayes, Ariadne's great-grandfather, was one of them. This ended up causing problems for who would inherit the throne as illegitimate children would stake their claim. In retaliation, Algernon began to kill those after his seat. The story goes that Clement raised an army to oppose the Emperor, and, fearing for his life, Algernon began to offer riches beyond imagination if – and only if – Clement redacted his claim.
He did.
That is how house Hayes came to be. A story they profusely denied, punishing those who dared spread it around. In their version, house Hayes was always legitimate and loyally followed the word of the Emperor. This is why he believed the job would be like the others. All Prompto had to do was kill the husband, and he did. Shot the man through the window as he was fucking his lover. Ariadne wanted him to die a shameful way, and Prompto saw to it.
Prompto made his way back to Hayes Manor to deliver the news, following the woman's instruction on how to enter her home in the dead of night secretly. So imagine Prompto's surprise – the second he enters her chamber – when it is not Lady Ariadne standing in front of him, but Aranea Highwind, leader of the revolutionists' army and enemy of the Empire. Shock overtook him, and this was when he realised the mistake he'd made. Before he could calculate an escape plan, Aranea knocked him out cold with her infamous spear, the gleaming metal the last thing he saw.
This brings him to now – head pounding, wrists bound by rope and sprawled across the floor.
"And if I choose not to accept?" Prompto says through gritted teeth. He can feel sharp throbs of pain directly behind his right eye, forcing it to close.
The corners of Aranea's lips twitch upwards as the grip on her spear tightens. "It should be obvious."
It is, but he had to ask.
As his pale wrists chafe against the rope, turning that patch of skin a bright pink, Prompto examines his surroundings. He is still within Lady Ariadne's Chamber. The expensive and, in his opinion, well-designed furniture makes this clear. He recalls his first time entering the chamber to discuss how her husband was going to die. He had disguised himself as a servant who did not raise any trace of mistrust by the other workers. The place had a high turnover rate as is because of Lady Ariadne's abuse. Prompto – on his first day speaking to the woman – had seen her chuck a pot of boiling tea at her handmaiden because she could no longer taste the sweetness, something more caused by her withering tastebuds than the maid's folly.
Despite this, Prompto was still willing to work with her. He would not allow pity for the workers to get in the way of his goals. After all, the abuse caused by aristocrats in Niflheim was common knowledge, but it was better than living on the streets and scouring through rubbish to find a meal. Prompto did contemplate killing her after the job was over, but that would not help anyone. The servants would return to the streets after being blamed for the death of their mistress. It might even result in punishment by the new lord or lady of the house. There was no escape. Not for the working class.
Prompto's eyes skim over the exotic red sheets which drape over lady Ariadne's four-poster bed. His mind freezes for a split second. Wait, red? Last time Prompto was here, they were a pristine white. He decides to focus his vision; an acquired ability. The blurred lines of his surroundings become sharper despite the dim moonlight peeking through the curtains. This is when he sees the frail body of Lady Ariadne propped up against the frame of the bed, his eyes drawn to her stomach.
There is a gaping wound directly below her breast, so deep that Prompto can see the damaged internal organs and how they slide out onto her lap. And the blood… The thick liquid has spewed from the injury and soaked everything within touching distance from the body, including the bedsheets. It is as if someone had failed at dyeing a piece of paper as only the corners of the sheets are left untouched.
If Prompto were an ordinary person, the scene would have filled him with horror. He may have even reacted in the same way the lover of lady Ariadne's husband did when the side of his head exploded as Prompto's bullet made contact—screamed in the same way he did as he tried to kick and shove off the body that had collapsed on top of him. However, Prompto is well acquainted with the sight of a dead body. He must be in this line of work.
"You know," the silver-haired woman begins, breaking Prompto from his thought, "you've become quite the celebrity in Niflheim. Whispers which run around high society saying 'the golden quickshot' is always the best option for a killing. That you get the job done without much trouble."
"Did that somehow offend you?" Prompto interrupts, not wanting to hear the woman drone on about gossiping lords and ladies.
Aranea laughs, allowing Prompto to see specks of blood across her cheeks. She soon calms down enough to resume speaking.
"God no, it didn't. Instead…"
"What?" he hisses out. The agonising thump within his head is growing each second, and Prompto does not know how much more of this he can handle. The woman is starting to get on his nerves.
"I want you to join me," she says with such steel in her voice that Prompto just stares. "Oh, don't act so surprised. I've been following your career since the assassination of Lord Irwin's heir. A very helpful killing. So I must thank you for that. I was able to get him to fund our cause."
"Well, I don't need your thanks."
"I suppose you don't, but I need you. More specifically, I've got a job for you. One that will grant you the freedom you crave."
How did she…?
"It might even open the doors to a better future. Isn't that right, ex-magitek soldier?"
Her smile widens while Prompto struggles to breathe.
She steps towards him before lowering herself onto her knees, bringing them to the same level. Then places a gentle hand on Prompto's shoulder. At this distance, he can see the bloodstains covering the pores of her skin, and it does nothing to calm him. He must escape. Now.
"Breathe," she says, her thumb stroking the base of his neck. "No one else has to know. No one else will know. That's if you help me."
Prompto gazes into her surprisingly soft eyes. "What – what do I have to do?"
She squeezes his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Become my bodyguard as I travel to the Kingdom of Lucis."
What else can Prompto do at that moment?
The only thing he could.
He agrees.
Author's Note:
Hello! I hoped you enjoyed this! It was so much fun to write.
I should explain that this is also a soulmate AU, but there will be more information on that later.
Please leave a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts!