Sunshine permeated every street corner of Lestallum, sweat rising swiftly on the three companion's skin and drenching their clothes as they entered the veritable wall of shimmering heat. The second they exited the Regalia's cool interior, jackets–and shirts, in Gladio's case–came off, leaving them as lightly dressed as possible. Even Ignis rolled up his shirt sleeves as far as they could go. Unlike the heat of the desert, this heat seemed to permeate from the very ground beneath their feet, the earth humming with the energies of the ores from which the city drew power.
Lestallum laid out in a sprawl above them, the mess of mismatched buildings crawling up into the surrounding hills. In their center stood the famous power plant that made this city a destination older than the crown city itself, smoke drifting from its spire. And below, far into the distance beyond terrace overlooking the canyon at Lestallum's edge, stood the Disk of Cauthess, resolute and glistening in the late afternoon sun.
But Prompto hardly had a second to linger as Gladio had a one-track mind and wouldn't be distracted by the sight. Wordlessly, he led them into the streets, on a mission to find one thing only.
"Gladdy!"
Iris, though slight of build, still possessed the boundless strength gifted to all Amicitias and used every ounce of it to throw herself at her older brother. Gladio grunted on impact, spinning his much smaller sister around before hugging her tightly to his chest, setting her lightly on her feet. "Iris," he said much more subdued, a quiet relief in his voice only reserved for those he cared about most.
Prompto watched the reunion fondly, a smile lifting his features that felt much too heavy of late. It was a welcome break from the nervous energy that fluttered in his chest ever since they'd spotted Lestallum that morning, perched on the great scar on the world left by wars past.
A city that was all too familiar, though Prompto could swear up and down he'd never once been here in his life. It was a startling realization that the second he stepped foot in the sweltering, frankly messy, streets, that his feet knew exactly where to take him to get to the hotel where Iris resided. The city wrapped around him like an old friend, the shimmering heat that seemed to cling to every corner, the spicy scent of street vendors hawking their wares, even the litter occasionally crunching beneath his boots: somehow, Prompto had experienced all of this before. It rose within him a painful nostalgia that he couldn't place, a longing for...something.
Obscured images fluttered around his mind, always just out of reach, as if he'd lived here in another life, and Prompto did not like it. He didn't like how he already knew that if he tried one of those spicy skewers, it would rival some of his favorite foods. He didn't like the occasional familiar face crossing his path like a ghost from his memories, only to pass beyond recognition when he got a better look. He especially didn't like the flashes of darkness he could see in his peripherals as if he was more intimately familiar with this place under the cover of night.
Why? Prompto could say for a fact that he'd never been to Lestallum. And he knew that this wasn't where he was from, his homeland a hated enemy, a secret he had long kept from his friends and even from himself most days, suppressed. Besides that, he was barely more than an infant when he was taken in by his foster parents. There was no way that he would have such vivid memories of this place even if that were the case.
Yet the flashes of memories persisted, anxiety coiling in his chest at every familiar sight, sound or feeling, withdrawing into himself more and more to the point where he was hardly able to utter a word to his two companions without giving himself away.
Not that Ignis and Gladio were much better. Something seemed to weigh on the both of them, pulling down their smiles and quieting their words. Prompto couldn't pinpoint why, but there was something unsettling about the change, a subtle shift in their energies that prickled at the back of his neck.
Perhaps it was simply nervousness about the graveness of their mission or their worry for their absent friends who Prompto dared not contact. The closer they got to the Disk of Cauthess, the more danger they were in, and he wasn't willing to distract them, no matter how much he longed to hear their voices. He contented himself with the sound presence of their energies at the back of his mind.
Prompto watched with unseeing eyes as Gladio and Iris talked to each other just out of earshot, hands locked together as if unwilling to let go. Tear tracks ran down Iris' face as she spoke, and Gladio comforted her as best he could. Ignis and Prompto held back, letting them have their moment without prying ears. He looked away when Gladio pulled Iris back into his arms, rocking her gently. Prompto was empathetic of their pain: it couldn't have been easy to lose their father and then to be separated for weeks while not really knowing if the other was okay other than a couple of phone calls. While Prompto didn't feel much of anything for the loss of his foster parents—didn't even know if they were MIA or not, actually, now that he thought of it. It wasn't like they had been a significant presence in his life—he only had to imagine losing any of his friends to understand the numbing grief of it.
A shiver worked up and down Prompto's spine and his eyes snapped up, scanning the busy street behind them with wary eyes. He'd been getting odd feelings ever since they'd left the Regalia as if something lurked behind every corner only to dart away every time he looked.
Perhaps it wasn't physical corners he should be scanning, but the ones in his mind. He shuddered again.
"Are you alright, Prompto?" Ignis asked, following the other man's gaze and seeing nothing of note. A street performer played on the corner, his jaunty tunes echoing off the buildings surrounding the courtyard where they stood.
"...Yeah," Prompto answered. "It's just. Shouldn't we have run into Ardyn by now?"
It bothered him that they hadn't encountered him. He was by no means eager, but this waiting was going to eat at him till he lost it.
"Jason said that he finds us, originally," Ignis said, though his own worried frown pulled at his brows. "Without knowing what he looks like, it would be difficult for us to seek him out. I don't believe we should ask too many questions, lest we draw too much attention to ourselves."
They'd been over this before, and intellectually Prompto knew that. If they drew too much attention they ran the risk of being recognized by the imperials that patrolled the city, the local folks doing their best to ignore the MTs that stood unsettlingly in their midst like silent predators waiting for the unwary to cross their paths. Their unwelcome presence cast a pall over the city, dampening smiles and tempering the music with a blanket of fear, and Prompto wondered with a pang how this sunkissed city must have been so much brighter in the absence of war. Maybe it could be again, someday. If they succeeded.
At least it was easier to avoid notice without Noctis there since his celebrity status made him more easily recognizable, but a few obviously out-of-towners going around asking questions about the Chancellor of Niflheim was bound to turn a few heads.
"What if he's not even here?" Prompto fretted.
"It's the risk we took when we decided to trust your instincts," Ignis said gently. "Do you believe he's here?"
"...Yes. He's here." Prompto, despite his doubts, was sure of it. It was totally weird because it was as if a part of him dreaded that this was a fruitless venture when they should be supporting Noctis at the Disk, and another part of him—the one he was starting to freak him out more and more if he was being honest—was dead certain they were exactly where they needed to be.
"Then it seems that all we can do is wait."
Gladio caught their eyes with a wave and jogged over to the small fountain where they sat. "Hey guys," he said, brows pulled together seriously. "Iris is pretty upset. I'm going to take her up to her hotel room for a bit."
"Is she alright?" Prompto asked, concerned. He didn't know Iris very well, but he'd been around her a little when he'd been training for the Crownsguard. Though she wasn't officially the King's Shield, as she would have been had Gladio been the younger, she still underwent the same training in the event of Gladio's death, as per tradition.
Not that Gladio was going to die! Prompto banished the errant thought forcefully. He had enough dark thoughts floating around his head to be thinking about that, too, even in passing.
"Yeah," Gladio sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, heedless of Prompto's sudden distress. "She's was right in the thick of things during the attack on the Citadel. Apparently she barely made it out."
"Okay," Ignis agreed easily when it was apparent that Gladio wasn't going to elaborate further. He pulled out his phone and held it out for larger man to take. "Be careful. We don't know when something might happen."
Gladio snorted a laugh, but it was without mirth, plucking the cell from Ignis' hand and shoving it in his back pocket. "You guys are the ones who should be careful. Don't go too far, okay? I'll text you when she's ready to talk. She should be able to shed some light on what happened."
"We have until tonight," Prompto said involuntarily, and then immediately bit his tongue, a sharp pain flushing his system along with a heady dose of adrenaline as his autonomy was abruptly returned to him.
Two sets of concerned eyes locked onto him as he slapped his hand over his mouth with a groan, wincing as he tasted blood. "Apparently," he said sarcastically, spitting on the ground with a grimace. Ugh! That was getting really unpleasant. He really wished whoever was pulling his strings would stop putting thoughts in his head. As useful as they could be sometimes, it was disconcerting. He was almost more annoyed than scared at this point, and that was saying something.
"How often is this going to happen, exactly?" Gladio grumbled, watching as Prompto carefully prodded the wound. Prompto could only shrug wearily. He had no idea, but he could only hope that it wouldn't get worse.
"...I'll watch over him."
"Fat lot of good that will do."
Ignis pursed his lips but didn't comment. "Go take care of Iris. See what you can find out. We'll be close by." Gladio barely acknowledged him, and Prompto shifted his weight, sensing again that he was missing something vital, but he couldn't bring himself to ask before Gladio nodded. The older man turned and strode back into the hotel, disappearing from sight and leaving Ignis and Prompto to figure out what to do with themselves until night fell in a few hours.
Prompto didn't know what they should be doing—the dumb voice in his head was silent again, useless—but he definitely knew what he wanted to be doing more than anything else at the moment. "C'mon, Iggy." Without explanation, he took the advisor's hand, gloved fingers warm and comfortingly solid in his own, and pulled him along.
Ignis stood and followed without protest as Prompto lead him into a shaded alley, away from the hustle of the somewhat busy square. It was by no means private but it was secluded enough that no one paid them any mind as Prompto came to a stop and pushed Ignis gently against the wall, dropping his head on Ignis' shoulder and leaning into him with a weary sigh.
"Prompto?"
Prompto inhaled deeply, letting the scent of Ignis' aftershave and the coffee he so loved wash over him, and though it was stiflingly hot, he didn't at all mind the sweat that mingled on their skin as he pushed close. "Sorry," he whispered, "I just need a minute." He nuzzled into the older man's neck before falling still, drawing strength from their closeness. Just for a minute…
Ignis sighed, a gloved hand coming up to card through Prompto's hair, heedless of the sweat that dampened his blond locks, other hand falling to lightly rest on Prompto's hip. Prompto pushed into the questing fingers slightly, gooseflesh rising on his arms at the action and relaxing him further.
"Iggy?"
"Hm?" Ignis leaned back into the wall more comfortably, relaxing into Prompto's embrace. He seemed distracted as he slowly pulled apart a tangle.
"I'm scared."
Ignis' fingers paused for a moment before resuming their ministrations. "I know."
"I don't know what's going to happen, but it feels like…" Like there was something hovering just on the edge of his awareness, waiting to swoop in when he least expected it. Like the next time he opened his eyes, he wouldn't be him anymore. It made him feel...lonely. With a shudder, he changed the subject. "Do you think Noctis and Jason are getting along alright?" he mumbled into Ignis' skin, blocking out the bright world around them.
Ignis tensed imperceptibly. Prompto froze as well, wondering at the action, but a mere second later, Ignis relaxed again. "Undoubtedly," he said, leaning his jaw to the side slightly to give Prompto more room. His voice vibrated pleasantly against Prompto's lips as Prompto gratefully obliged. "Noctis has let go of his grudge, and he's fonder of Jason than he realizes. I wouldn't be surprised if they return friends."
Prompto smiled. "That would be nice." Prompto would like nothing more than for all of them to let go of their animosity towards each other, to fit together like Prompto sensed they could. But it wasn't just Noctis and Jason he worried about anymore. Something happened between Ignis and Gladio, something big. It was as if they'd taken a huge step back from each other, warmth leached from their usual interactions as if they were just going through the motions. Prompto pulled back and looked Ignis in the eye, opening his mouth to ask, but something in Ignis' solemn gaze gave him pause.
"Is this okay?" He asked instead of the question weighing heavy in his lungs. Prompto lifted his hand and brushed a stray lock of hair from Ignis' eyes, and the hazel greens he'd always admired widened slightly at the intimate gesture. Prompto bit his lip, hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds, but he just...needed comfort. He got the feeling that Ignis wasn't strictly used to these kinds of gestures, not one to seek physical contact on the best of days. At least, not nearly as often as the others. If Prompto didn't know him better he would think Ignis was cold, but he knew that Ignis simply preferred to show his love in other ways–mainly by fussing. Heh. Prompto quirked a smile despite himself, wondering if Ignis had ever allowed himself to be treated gently. Then again, he couldn't imagine the other man giving up control for anything.
But Prompto needed physical touch like he needed air. Usually, he would go to Noctis for the physical affection he craved, something they'd shared before they were even together. Only Noctis wasn't here. Besides, Prompto wanted that closeness with Ignis... He pulled his hand back regretfully. He shouldn't push. It was selfish.
"...It's fine," Ignis said unexpectedly, grabbing Prompto's hand and holding it against his cheek. Prompto's heart lurched as Ignis' high cheekbones reddened slightly, though the man's expression remained carefully neutral.
The shorter man almost inhaled his tongue, stomach fluttering like a thousand butterflies were released all at once. "Ignis, are you blushing? Oh-em-gee, let me get a shot of this!" he breathed. His fingers twitched against Ignis' skin, itching to pull out his camera and take a photo of this perfect moment, feeling as though he'd spotted an extremely rare, exotic animal. Noctis was never going to believe this!
With a glare, Ignis' loose grip turned solid. "Don't even think about it." It seemed like the tender moment was over because, with a yelp, Prompto thumped lightly against the wall, the taller man crowding against him. Prompto's startled laugh was muffled by the lips pressing against his own, the sound and morphing into a groan of delighted surprise.
Prompto wanted to kiss back seriously, but his smile kept tightening his lips no matter how Ignis nipped at them. After a moment, he was able to relax, enjoying the attention, and frankly grateful for its distraction. It was when Ignis decided to slip his tongue inside though, that Prompto wrenched their mouths apart a gasp of pain. "Yeowch!" The small cut he'd gotten earlier stung sharply, and Ignis pulled back with a concerned hum.
"Ah. My apologies."
"N-no, my bad," Prompto muttered, carefully fingering the cut on the side of his tongue, disappointed that he'd ruined the moment. Who knew when he'd get a chance like this again? "Guess I need to lay off for a while." He pouted. It was lame, too, because it wasn't even enough to warrant a potion, just painful enough to be really, really annoying and kill his buzz. With a sigh, he made to lever himself off the wall, maybe thinking about getting some ice cream to soothe his bite. That could still be fun. He could pretend they were on a date rather than a dangerous mission to save the world!
Iggy deserved a date. Lots and lots of them, as far as Prompto was concerned. He had half a mind to spoil the man rotten when Noctis got back, just like Ignis was always doing for them.
But Ignis hesitated, his arm still resting against the wall beside Prompto's head and his legs still bracketing the slighter man in place. Prompto eyed him quizzically but stilled his movements, not at all bothered to stay right where he was if that's what Ignis wanted. "I could heal that for you if you want."
"Uuuuh, what?"
"Open your mouth."
Prompto's brain short-circuited as his body flushed in a rush of heat, face and neck going crimson. It wasn't even that Ignis had said it in any weird way, voice as casual as if he were reciting the weather, but damn, for some reason hearing those words in that silken, detached tone did things to Prompto. Though Ignis' face remained neutral for the most part, the small ghost of a smile on his thin lips gave him away. Prompto let out a startled laugh. Oh, it's on. Ignis knew exactly what he was doing.
Ignis smirked, lifting his gloved hand and plucking at the fingers, pulling it off. "Wait," Prompto said breathily. "Don't." He received the pleasure of watching Ignis' stunning green irises disappear in a sea of black. That dusting of red was back and oh. Yeah. He was going to have to examine that one later. Without breaking eye contact, peering up at the taller man through fair lashes, Prompto parted his lips, waiting patiently for another request.
But Ignis had none. He had Prompto right where he wanted him.
The world faded around them. The bustle of the streets, the jangling music, the shouts of passersby muted to nothing as Ignis slipped his still gloved fingers between Prompto's lips. The dull, acrid taste of old leather invaded Prompto's senses and his eyes fluttered closed with a moan, loving the worn texture against his tongue. One of the street performers could have stopped next to them and started a party and it wouldn't have distracted Prompto from the rush of heat singing through his blood.
"Very good," Ignis all but whispered and Prompto shuddered at the praise, a small whine barely making it past the leather-clad fingers. Carefully, Ignis guided Prompto's jaw wider until it was lax beneath his touch. Prompto flushed a little more as his mouth watered, threatening to spill over his lips, but was immediately distracted by the careful prodding of his wound.
Ignis was gentle in his touch but Prompto's brows still drew together with a small grunt at the sting. Ugh, why did mouth wounds have to be so painful? If the tiny cut where pretty much anywhere else, he wouldn't have been near as bothered. As it was, though, it made his tongue feel like a painful, clumsy brick in his mouth. "Shh, this will only take a moment," Ignis said, tone velvet and eyes intent as he stared down at the fair man. True to his word, the cool tingling of magic permeated Prompto's tongue, the taste of sunshine banishing the bitter tang of blood and soothing his small hurt until it was nothing but a memory.
After a few more toe-curling—and probably not strictly necessary—strokes of his tongue, Ignis made to withdraw, but Prompto wasn't having it. Eyes snapping open with intent, he tightened his lips, careful not to use his teeth but not allowing Ignis' fingers to escape either. Ignis' eyes flashed, and Prompto dared to nip down a little, digging into the leather with the tingling satisfaction of biting into something soft before releasing.
"Greedy," Ignis smirked, and with his other hand clenched the hair on the back of Prompto's neck firmly, pulling his neck taught. Prompto moaned, jaw slackening again. Leaning forward, Ignis engulfed Prompto in his body heat and whispered into his ear, "Tap twice if you want me to stop," before flipping his wrist over and stroking firmly.
Prompto's hips jerked as his nerves were set on fire, wrinkled, and now soaked, leather dragging harshly over the sensitive roof of his mouth. It tickled, overwhelming, almost painful, enough that his body couldn't decide whether it wanted to escape or beg for more. "Hn!" Moisture slipped over Prompto's lips as he salivated under those skilled fingers, long past the point of caring as it ran from the corners of his mouth. Hell, the building he was leaning against could collapse on his head for all he would notice it, as long as Ignis kept doing that. Fuck. He never knew something so simple could be so burningly erotic and Prompto was half convinced that he could come from just this, without Ignis even touching him. He whimpered his appreciation into his lover's hand, legs going weak in the knees.
Ignis was careful not to delve too deeply, but with a spark of challenge, Prompto found that he wanted to take more, hunger ignited for something else, something heavier to satisfy his tongue. Locking eyes with Ignis, he laved his fully healed appendage against the back of Ignis' fingers, drawing them in until he could feel them against his soft palate and just brush the tip of his tongue into the small section of exposed skin the gloves didn't cover. Mm. Salty
Ignis' breath hitched, strictly controlled composure wavering before finally shattering like a thin pane of glass. Prompto smirked, eyes half-mast, smug. He shivered in anticipation...
Chirpchirpchirp! Chirpchirpchirp!
Both men froze as the vibrations of a phone going off intruded jarringly, reality coming back in a rush of cacophonous sound and stifling heat. They stared at each other for several seconds before, with a heavy sigh, Ignis carefully withdrew his hand. Prompto released his held breath in a whoosh of disappointment, adjusting his pants with an uncomfortable groan as he pulled his phone from his pocket and answered it without even bothering to check who it was.
"H-hello?" He stuttered, eyes still locked on Ignis as the man carefully removed his ruined glove, folding it and putting it in his pocket and looking unfairly composed despite what they just shared. He wondered what it would take to make Ignis look as debauched as Prompto felt...
Ignis stepped back, giving Prompto space so that he could stand. Prompto did so reluctantly, focusing with more than a little effort to hear the voice on the other end.
"Hey, Prom. You two should get back here. You're going to want to hear this," Gladio's low timbre filtered through the speaker and the blond shook off the remainder of his disappointment at the grimness of his tone.
"Gotcha. We'll be there in a sec." He shoved his phone back into his pocket and glanced back at Ignis, maybe to make an off-color joke to break the tension. He paused. There was more than just the disappointment of a moment ruined, a derisive tilt to his frown that Prompto didn't like.
"You know, I was just thinking last night that we shouldn't rush into a physical relationship…" Ignis said, gaze locked somewhere to the side as if the answers to all his questions lay around the next bend.
Prompto frowned, disturbed by the regret in his tone. Had he made a mistake in thinking that Ignis wanted more? That he hadn't been teasing him on purpose? But no...Ignis had initiated. Prompto's head spun a little, confused by the mixed signals he was receiving.
There was something sad in Ignis' eyes though, a melancholy that pulled at his brows and bowed his impeccably straight shoulders. Did...did Ignis need comfort just as much as Prompto did? "Hey," Prompto said, straightening from the wall. Ignis didn't look at him. "I dunno what's bothering you, Iggy, but you don't have to hold back with me." Prompto smiled. "I'm definitely not complaining." His body still tingled with excitement, no matter that the mood was long gone. If he kept getting teased like this, he just might explode! And to think, he'd been sitting on a two-year-long dry spell. Now, the floodgates were open, and he was going to take everything he could get.
Ignis' lips quirked, finally looking over at his younger lover, and Prompto warmed at the sight, his own grin growing. "You make me lose control."
Prompto's jaw dropped. Aaaand the shivers were back, gooseflesh rising up on his arms at the low admission. Who gave him the right to be so smooth? He made Ignis lose control? Just who needed the tighter leash, he wondered?
Whoa-ho-ho, down boy, they did not have time to explore the sex in Ignis' voice. Clearing his throat and willing his violent blush away, Prompto closed his eyes and took a deep breath to get himself back under wraps. "Um. W-we should get back."
"Agreed," Ignis said, shrugging off the intensity and wrapping formality back around him like a shield. "Gladio and Iris are waiting."
"So it was a coup after all," Ignis said grimly, staring out the dingy window of the hotel room.
"Yes," Iris said solemnly from her seat in one of the threadbare chairs. Her hands clenched tightly atop her knees, spine rigid and red-rimmed eyes hard. "It was a massacre." She closed her eyes for a second, fighting to regain her composure before continuing. "Most of the outlying districts made it out okay, but a third of the city was destroyed."
"Ships?" Ignis asked.
Iris shook her head. "Not just ships. They'd weaponized a daemon and it did most of the damage."
A grim silence fell over the four of them as they took in the news. Prompto couldn't imagine the betrayal she described. The king's own glaives...how could they go back on their oath like that? How could they betray the king they swore to protect, even as they were connected with his magic? It would be like—cutting off your own arm! And the news that Niflheim was weaponizing daemons; how the heck could they fight something like that with the remaining Glaives scattered and Regis' Crownsgaurd all but decimated? It really did feel like the fate of the world rested on the five of them. They were on their own.
"How did you escape the city?" Gladio asked eventually from his slump against the wall.
"I was fighting with the remaining glaives when Monica found me. We were able to escape with Jared and his grandson and a few other refugees…" She clutched at her upper arm, rubbing it gently as if remembering the phantom pain of a wound already healed. Gladio's eyes zeroed in on the movement, frown deepening. "The rest of the glaives stayed behind to save as many people as they could….but we haven't heard from them since."
"So, we really are on our own," Prompto said morosely.
The four fell silent, a cloud of gloom hanging over them like a stifling blanket.
Iris sniffed, blinking away tears. "Gladdy? Where's Prince Noctis? Is he alright?"
"Yeah," Gladio rumbled. "He's got something important to do."
"Why aren't you with him?" Iris' voice went hard and Gladio straightened, facing his sister's accusation fully. She stood as well, her slight frame laughably tiny compared to her brother's but aura exuding as much force as could be expected from any Amicitia. "Don't tell me you let him go off on his own!"
"There's something we have to do here," Gladio said firmly. "And he's not alone. He has a Messenger to watch his back."
"A Messenger?" Iris asked, brows pinching. "Like what Lady Lunafreya has?"
"Precisely," Ignis interjected into the tension, pushing up his glasses. "His Highness is on his way to intercept Lady Lunafreya with the aid of a Messenger he summoned some weeks ago."
Iris relaxed slightly. "So lady Lunafreya is alright?"
"That we know of."
Iris lightly clutched her hands over her heart, short brown locks brushing her cheeks lightly as she looked down with a quiet sigh. "That's a relief…" But then her eyes sharpened again, pinning Gladiolus where he stood. "But that doesn't explain why you aren't with him, Gladiolus. You know your place."
Gladio straightened under her accusing glare. They all felt the sting from the truth of her words.
"Like I said, we have something to do here." When Iris' eyes narrowed further, Gladio hastened to elaborate, even as he hesitated to tell her everything. "He ordered us from his side. Right now we just have to trust that he knows what he's doing."
Iris stared Gladio down for a few more seconds before her shoulders slumped. Slowly, as if every movement pained her, she reclaimed her seat, hands clenched between her knees and eyes locked onto the floor, as before. "Where is he, Gladio?"
"Iris–"
"Please."
Gladio bit back his protest with pursed lips, glancing at Ignis. But it looked like Ignis didn't have any advice to offer, tilting his head as if to say 'well?' Gladio scowled.
"He's at the Disk of Cauthess. He's going there to make sure that Luna doesn't awaken the Archeon."
"And why are you here? What is it that you have to do?"
Gladio's eyes widened. "No. You are not coming with us, Iris."
Iris shot him a glare, voice cold. "Why not?"
"I need you to be safe. I can't do what I need to do and worry about you at the same time."
Prompto gulped. Uh-oh. That was definitely not the right thing to say. He glanced between the two siblings frantically, practically tasting the electricity in the air.
"That's not fair," Iris whispered, frigid.
Gladio, perhaps sensing that he'd overstepped, furrowed his brows. But he didn't back down, voice stern. "Iris–"
"No!" Iris said, waspish and deadly calm. "You don't get to say that to me, Gladiolus Amicitia. How do you think I felt when you were out there putting yourself in danger every day while I had to wait here, watching our country fall and wondering if I would ever see you again?" She bowled over whatever her brother would say, fierce. "Dad is dead. And I get that you want to protect me, but we're at war. There is nowhere safe anymore."
Her final shrill word hung harshly in the air, Gladio looking furious but without rejoinder.
"...She's right, y'know?" Prompto said tentatively, flinching a little when Gladio's glare transferred to him. "I'm just saying! There isn't anywhere safe anymore! And we're kind of low on allies right now…" He gulped as Gladio's gaze could have set him on fire.
"I concur," Ignis added in his own two gil, not at all cowed by Gladio's anger. "We could use all the help we can get."
"Don't you glare at them, brother!" Iris stepped forward. "You can't stop me. Do I have to prove it to you? Because you know how that will end." She clenched her fists, ready for a fight. Gladio squared up to her with a growl, sparks flying and magic manifesting palpably in the air.
Prompto gaped. Were they really going to fight? Now? He'd seen these two go at it before in training, but it really looked like Iris was out for blood this time. What if they actually injured each other? Prompto wrung his hands, terrified to intervene, glancing at Ignis pleadingly. Ignis, however, held his calm, observing silently. He shook his head slightly and Prompto eased back, though his nerves didn't diminish.
After a few charged seconds, Gladio backed down with a dissatisfied grunt. "We are not fighting about this."
"So you've given in?" Iris challenged, and Gladio heaved a sigh. Her voice softened, pained. "Since when have you doubted my abilities so much, Gladdy?"
"I–" Gladiolus ran a hand through his hair. "I don't. I just...don't want to lose you too."
The slight woman relaxed visibly and the magic dissipated like a gentle wind. She stepped closer, placing a delicate hand on Gladio's bicep. "I know. But this is my fight too."
"Guys," Prompto said, loathe to interrupt, but. "It's almost time." He stared out the window, the golden light finally fading into the shadowless ambiguity between dusk and the darkness of night. Unpleasant shivers ran up and down his spine, the foreboding he'd been sensing since coming to this city quickening his heart. And there was something else rising in him, an anticipation he didn't recognize, a determination that contradicted his fear. He blinked hard. No way. He was himself. There was no one who could take that away from him.
Gladio grimaced before turning back to Iris. "We have to go. Stay here. Please."
Iris scowled, though her worry showed through plainly, no amount of acting tough able to temper her gentle nature. Still, it was with determination that she said, "We're not done with this conversation Gladdy. When you return, you're going to tell me everything."
Gladio nodded sharply. "I will." He briefly covered her delicate hand in his own before stepping back, heading for the door. The three left, Iris staring behind them with melancholy brown eyes.
The muggy night air washed over the three men as they exited the hotel.
"What now?" Gladio asked, both he and Ignis looking to Prompto for answers.
A compulsion had Prompto turning his head, gaze locking onto the alley beside the hotel. "This way…" His brows drew together uneasily as he began to walk, feet knowing a path he couldn't see. Silently, he led the way, past the still lively main street and the people that bustled and went about their night of revelry, past the last shop and down onto the terrace at the city's edge, its soft lighting illuminating the few duos and trias looking for a peaceful night in seclusion. Prompto envied them, wishing he could just take his two companions by the hand and cuddle on one of those benches, wished that they didn't have these burdens sitting heavily on their shoulders. He wanted it more fiercely than he had ever wanted anything before, and it made his chest ache. But. They were fighting so that those people could continue to live in peace. So he kept walking.
When he finally came to a stop, the Disk of Cauthess stood before them in the distance, glowing brightly in the last light of day, sitting on the horizon like a jewel. Somewhere out there, Jason and Noctis fought for their fates…
Ignis and Gladio stepped up to his sides, and though it was still stiflingly hot, Prompto relaxed into their warmth. The three stood in solidarity for several minutes, just watching the final rays of the sun retreat over the horizon until the meteor was the only light left.
Then the hairs on the back of Prompto's neck stood on end, a cold tingling running up and down his spine. He went rigid.
"Well, well, well," a smooth, honeyed voice intoned. Prompto spun on his heel. A wave of instant recognition hit him hard as a man stepped from the shadows. Bright red hair, flashing white teeth, the familiar sway of arrogant shoulders and a smile that could charm a behemoth; he'd met this man before.
"You," he whispered, and the man who couldn't be anyone else but Ardyn Izunia bowed his head graciously with a tip of his fedora.
Prompto blinked hard, barely acknowledging his two companions stepping forward protectively, because the mysterious man locked eyes onto Prompto with all the recognition of long association, and said, "Well, here we are once again, my old friend. It's been too long."
AN: We don't know anything about Iris. Like. Anything. Other than her super awkward crush on Noctis and a sorry excuse for a gender equality gimmick. So I headcanon that she would have been a shield if she were the eldest Amicitia and that she was at the palace when shit went down. Because we need more strong female characters in Entourage XV. Ahem, sorry, I meant Final Fantasy XV. :P Oh the plans I have~
Next Chapter: Ardyn speaks nonsense. Prompto's mind is his own, and there's no room for anyone else!