Warning: Noctis/Prompto.
Chapter Five
It was another beautiful morning in the Citadel for Prompto.
The blond was looking forward to exploring again. It wasn't every day a commoner like him set foot in the Citadel. He was trying to make the most of his stay in the Citadel and crown city. He had still a lot of memory left in his camera and that meant more pictures to take. He would love to take a picture with Ignis and Gladio but the two noblemen seemed a bit cross with him last night. He didn't want to overstep boundaries or jeopardize his scholarship to the University of Lucis.
"I wish mom could see the royal garden. She would love the flowers," Prompto sighed, his blue eyes soon growing wide, recalling seeing someone strange last night in the royal garden, and witnessing the stranger taking the bouquet of roses he had made for those at rest in the mausoleum. "Maybe I should tell security what I saw. What if they think I was snooping, though? I should just keep this to myself, right?"
He was worried about encountering the strange man again. They had made eye contact with each other last night. There was a chance that the strange man was someone significant in the Citadel as well. There were flower petals scattered on the floor in the West Wing last night. There were the very same ones from his bouquet and dried blood droplets were on them. Those thorns on the roses pricked his finger and blood had dripped on some of the petals.
"I should be careful from now on," Prompto shuddered, biting his lip, rubbing his arm, then touching the bandages from when he had blood drawn. "It's probably that time again. I can do this. I have to do this."
XOXO
The bath was filled to the brim with water.
He listened to music while washing himself. He had the volume on low this time, not wanting to disturb those who were still sleeping. He had come to accept that the residents of the Citadel were night owls, though then that seemed a bit strange since they were forcing him to be in bed before ten o'clock. He was even forbidden from roaming the halls at night, except that was when most of the Citadel was awake and about. He wanted to interact with them, unfortunately he was being kept apart from everyone else and isolated.
"Why, though?" Prompto wondered, choosing an outfit, finding new clothes in his closet again. "Well, I am a commoner and they're nobility. I guess class differences will never go away. It's rooted in Lucis' history, anyway."
He wore a green bomber jacket, black button shirt, jeans, and boots. He gave his hair a break from styling products this time, just tucking those golden locks behind his ear. A few strands still slipped out of place, his right eye veiled by beautiful blond locks. A barrette would adorn his hair every now and then, so he could study in peace without being distracted.
"It's time for breakfast," Prompto chirped, stomach rumbling, growling. "I'm so hungry."
XOXO
The kitchen was just as empty as the Citadel corridors.
He served breakfast by an elderly cook, his stack of pancakes coming with a small cup of fruits and vitamins. He was right about donating blood today or tonight, just whenever Ignis decided to awake from his slumber. He wondered who Ignis worked for, especially since his blood was being given to him. He recalled Cor's comments in the throne room, considering Cor stated something about being a 'donor' and 'chosen' by him or Ignis' 'boss' who oversaw this 'research project'.
"What makes my blood so special, though?" Prompto mumbled, taking his vitamins, with a glass of orange juice. "It's just like everyone else's, isn't it?"
He lingered in the hallway for a while, but outside of the throne room. The double doors were wide open, like tempting him to come inside. Those black curtains were around the throne again, though they should be parted for the public since Lucis has no heirs anymore. There was a lot of mystery surrounding Lucis' royal family, especially crown prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.
"Creepy," Prompto muttered, backing away, hugging himself, the throne room too chilly for his liking. "I should go before Cor catches me again."
XOXO
He wasn't sure if the armory was off-limits to him.
He didn't see Cor standing guard anywhere, so he went inside and marveled at the display of various weapons. He saw paintings of past Lucius kings and queens, with their weapons of choice in the encased glass below the portrait. He found King Regis' painting on a wall of its own, though King Regis' sword was missing from the encased glass holding. He was about to take a picture of it, however he heard footsteps echoing in the hallway.
"You are a curious little one, aren't you?" someone snickered, his heartbeat fluttering from fear, the armory turning cold and dark in their presence. "I wonder how far you'll get in your pursuit of answers, just how close you'll come to touch me."
He ran out into the hallway, but the Citadel corridors were empty once again. He hadn't any proof, except the pieces were fitting together like a puzzle in his head. The young man from just now was the same one in the garden last night, though they were also an important figure in the Citadel as he had believed. This man wasn't like the others in the Citadel as well, especially since they were awake and about in the morning.
"I can practically see the gears turning in that pretty, little head of yours," he sneered, laughter resonating, thrumming through the Citadel. "I've been so bored in this grave of mine. Let's this game of cat and mouse begin. But I don't play fair. It's no fun. You've been warned. Good luck, little bird."
XOXO
The training room looked in use.
He didn't come across anyone, though there were wooden swords and shields strewn about the room. He felt soon very scrawny, his lithe arms unable to lift the weights which Lucis' soldiers could easily enough. He knew they're strong, but he was quick on his feet. He could outrun them, as he was on the track team throughout grade school. He avoided contact sport, so he wouldn't have the breath knocked out of him.
"Blueprints!" Prompto gasped, examining the various papers, that were taped onto the wall. "Maps, too!"
He saw maps and blueprints of the Citadel, except the West Wing was left out on both diagrams. He supposed only trusted individuals would receive maps and blueprints of the West Wing, not young and inexperienced soldiers. It shouldn't matter anymore since Lucis hadn't a royal family, but the Citadel functioned as if a monarch still sat upon the Lucian throne. It seemed that the Citadel was monarchy sympathizers, a small group of people who would prefer to return to the old ways.
"You could even call them a cult," Prompto grimaced, taking a picture, noticing the sun setting. "If I have the strength for it, I'll explore Insomnia tomorrow. I bet mom and dad are waiting for a postcard."
XOXO
He couldn't stop bumping into the maids and butlers.
He saw Ignis and Gladio waiting for him, the two noblemen standing outside of the dining room. He approached the brunets, but wondered whether they were still upset with him. He didn't think so, not when they both greeted him pleasantly. He wasn't himself tonight, his mind more focused on the mysterious man taunting him. He could've told them, except he didn't trust them anymore. He needed to be careful, considering the Citadel and its residents were strange.
"Are you okay?" Ignis asked, checking his temperature, with the back of his hand. "You don't seem like yourself."
Gladio grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it. "What's up, kid? You can talk to us."
"I'm fine," Prompto sighed, pulling away. "I'm just nervous."
Ignis smiled, pushing his eyeglasses up. "Don't be, Prompto. You did so well before. And we'll always have your blood drawn after dinner. Then you'll have the entire night to rest and recover."
"See, kid? You have nothing to worry about," Gladio reassured, ruffling golden locks. "You're in good hands here. We've got the best of the best."
"Thanks," Prompto squeaked, bowing his head. "Hopefully, I'll get used to donating blood."
He felt a little underdressed in the dining room since the nobles were dressed to the nines. It was like seeing a painting come to life or going back in time. A few servants started to pour wine for the nobles. A different servant poured orange juice into his glass.
"How's your food, Prompto?" Ignis inquired, sipping wine, not necessarily eating. "Is it to your liking?"
"Of course," Prompto nodded, his steak juicy, flavorful. "It's so good. I can't wait to eat dessert, too."
"You need to finish your food first," Gladio advised, beckoning for a servant, asking for more wine. "You're going to have your blood drawn."
"I know, I know," Prompto snorted, eyeing the chocolate cake, earning a chuckle from Gladio and Ignis. "I'll finish my steak, then eat dessert."
XOXO
He sat in the doctor's office.
He had Ignis with him, but the nobleman wasn't putting him at ease. The nurse was prepping him to have blood drawn, his arm thoroughly sanitized with alcohol. She inserted a needle into his arm soon afterward, just as a blood bag collected one pint. There were two blood bags still empty on the table, though that meant they were going to take more blood from him.
"You're doing great," Ignis comforted, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed together, jaw tense. "We just need two more blood bags filled."
"That's a lot …" Prompto groaned, eyelids fluttering, fatigue settling in. "And I'm tired …"
"It'll be over soon enough," Ignis reassured, watching the nurse, who was now labeling the first blood bag with information, as more blood continued flowing into the two remaining bags. "Just relax, Prompto."
He lay in the doctor's office, the nurse keeping him company as Ignis took the blood bags to his boss. He felt fine soon enough, not unsteady on his feet anymore.
"You go straight to bed now," the nurse advised, helping him up, handing him a lollipop as well. "You need to rest, young man."
He treaded through the Citadel corridors, to only once again come before the West Wing. He hadn't the energy to investigate, except voices were echoing from the West Wing. He heard hushed whispers, considering an argument was taking place in the West Wing. He leaned in close, hoping he could understand what or who they were arguing about.
"It's not enough," he growled, that familiar voice startling Prompto, even enough to emit a small gasp. "I want more."
A/N: What do you think? Leave me your thoughts.