A/N: Significantly longer... just the way I like it! Yay for character development :) I know, two chapters in one day, CRAZY! It's spring break now! I'm stuck at home working instead of going on vacation, but it gives me plenty of time to write. Which I'm actually really excited about! So please enjoy! And for those expecting Prompto/Inertia and Ignis/Aranea, It'S COMING. I PROMISE! (The love triangle just demands attention first, is all).

Chapter 17:

"How you holding up, gorgeous?"

Saber was setting down the drink in front of her - an Old Fashioned, just how she liked it. Quite honestly, Inertia hated drinking. And it was something she never did at Fenestala Manor. In the weeks following her escape from the research facility, she'd survived on the backs of others; men camping, women sightseeing, that sort of thing. But the first people she'd run into were a group of men hiking through the mountains, on their way to Ghorovas Rift to see Shiva's corpse. As the men found her, this 15 year old girl shivering in the frigid atmosphere, they'd given her alcohol, "to warm her up," they said.

It worked.

Of course, after she'd choked on it and spit it out the first time.

It fucking burned. Why did people voluntarily drink this stuff?

But it warmed her up - while admittedly also making her head spin - so the rest of the time she was with them, she drank it willingly. They put together an "Old Fashioned" for her, they said. That was their specialty.

So ever since, when she felt particularly alone, the burn of it in her throat and the sting of it in her eyes felt like home.

"I'm surviving," Inertia nodded at Saber. She'd been coming back to La Traviata for weeks now, ever since King Regis had basically banished her from associating with anyone outside his royal counsel. While the bouncers still knew her as Cecilia Martin, Saber knew her true identity as Lady Inertia Izunia, and didn't judge her for it. She was a good listener, and an honest person, and Inertia appreciated her for that. "How are you doing, Ms. Rae?"

Since opening up to Saber on her nights off, Saber had opened up to her in kind. Her name was Saber Rae. She was a 21 year old refugee from Accordo, and while Altissia had maintained much of its autonomy within the Empire, a surprise raid on her and her mother's boat on their way home from a trip to Lucis - specifically, to Galdin Quay - when she was just a girl of 8 had forced her to do what was necessary to survive. Her mother didn't survive the reprisal. And she'd never met her father.

"Doing just fine, hun," She beamed at Inertia, leaning on the bar. It was a Tuesday night - not too big of a crowd here. That way her new friend could give her all the attention in the world. "You worried about little ol' me?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

Inertia laughed. Saber was bisexual, openly and freely, and there was something endearing, inspiring, even, about her confidence. She didn't hide the fact that she thought Inertia was a real catch.

"Always, Saber. Though I needn't be, you're more than capable of taking care of yourself," Inertia raised her class in small toast to her only friend in this oppressing city.

"You flatter me," Saber grinned, grabbing the empty glass from her. "Pretty soon I'm gonna think you're flirting with me."

"Unfortunately not," Inertia shrugged. "If and when I ever do decide to try pussy, you'll be the first I call."

It was nice, being able to shoot the shit like this. She was so used to the etiquette of diplomacy, working in Luna's employ and stationing herself at the Citadel, she almost forgot the lessons she'd learned her few years on her own in cursing, simplicity, and indecency. And Saber was one of the few who appreciated her foul tongue. The bartender put a finely manicured hand on her hip. Her brown hair accented her dark skin in so lovely a way, her hazel eyes sparkling like a child's. It was a shame she wasn't attracted to women - Saber was both stunning and strong.

"You're more and more attractive every day," Saber whistled, tossing the glass on a rack. "Too bad you're a high brow. I've never liked the sticks up the asses of your kind."

"But it's a great weapon if someone ever catches me off guard," Inertia surmised. "Imagine beating someone to death with your own shit."

The two laughed then, real, hearty laughs, and she was reminded of a simpler time, a time when she was welcome among the glaives, and among a certain retinue who treated her like an equal. She tried not to think about it - it had been weeks, now, almost a month, and it didn't hurt any less.

Her face must have given her away.

"You still upset about what happened at the Citadel?" Saber inquired, growing somber. "I figured a strong girl like you woulda gotten over that by now."

"Yeah, I know," Inertia sighed. "I'm stupid for even thinking about it."

"You're a lot of things, milady," Saber rarely addressed her as one would address a member of a royal House. So when she did, Inertia knew she was sincere. "Stupid, is not one of them."

Before she could respond, Saber was throwing another drink before her on the counter.

"Drink," She commanded. Inertia obeyed, tossing back her second Old Fashioned.

"Are you still talking to the Prince's retinue at all?" Saber went on, counting some of the cash in her waitress book. "I know a couple of them were texting you a lot."

"I haven't answered," Inertia mumbled, ashamed. "I've been doing my best to keep my word to the King."

"God, you're so dutiful," Saber groaned. "It makes me wanna puke."

"What can I say?" Inertia drank some more, appreciating the burn in her throat. It reminded her she was alive. "I'm a diplomat, through and through."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask…" Saber trailed off, a little thoughtful. "How's Barrick doing?"

Inertia looked up from her drink, wiping her mouth. It was a sincere question, and guilt overtook her for having taken Saber's friend away. They'd been classmates in high school; they never dated or anything like that. They were simply the same age, and a perfect example of men and women who could be friends, and nothing more. She'd dated girls and guys alike, but never Barrick. He was simply there for her, as a friend should be.

"He's ok," Inertia assured her. "I run into him sometimes at the Citadel, and he's working hard. As far as I know, he's being compensated better now than he ever was as a Glaive." She cocked her head at Saber, a little confused. "Have you not kept up with him?"

"I've tried," Saber shrugged, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her ponytail. "He won't really talk to me, though. I think he's embarrassed."

"I've been thinking about going to visit him…" Inertia trailed off. "Do you think that would be inappropriate?"

"Not at all," Saber smiled, softer than the ambassador had ever seen her. "I think that would be a really nice thing to do."

"Would you care to join me?" Inertia extended the invitation, a little hopeful her new, and only, friend would keep her company.

Saber shook her head. "I've gotta open and close all week; the glory of asking for time off," She rolled her eyes. "Plus I think I might complicate things if I go with you. You can handle it, I'm sure."

Inertia finished off her drink, extending to Saber her usual payment, plus exorbitant tip.

"Don't have too much faith in me," She winked. But most of her was serious.

"Prompto!"

He'd know that voice anywhere.

The Marshal summoned him forwards, and Prompto swallowed hard, afraid of what he may have done wrong now. He looked to Noct apologetically, who he'd been sparring with. He was nowhere near as talented as his best friend, but swordplay was getting easier — he understood the basics of a blade better now, at least. And Noctis had been surprisingly patient with him, giving him pointers where he needed them. Ignis and Gladiolus were receiving some intense training from Captain Drautos on the other side of the training grounds, and he hesitated to even look in their direction. There was something intimidating about that big guy; even more intimidating than the Immortal. Trotting to the Marshal, he wiped his brow, hot, and sweaty, but eager to learn.

"Yes, sir!" He stopped on a dime in front of him, leaning on his blade for support. Cor smirked down at him.

"Getting better with that blade, Argentum," He nodded at him, and Prompto could feel his mouth fall open in shock. Had… he just… complimented him?!

"Thank you, Mr. Immortal, sir!" He babbled incoherently. "Noct's a good teacher, your Immortalness, sir!"

"Prompto, enough with the Immortal stuff," Cor's face was back to its dark, serious self, and Prompto cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down.

"Uh, yes sir," He managed. Cor clapped him on the back.

"I've got something for you, today," He bobbed his head towards the other side of the bathhouse, and Prompto followed eagerly, curious as to what the Marshal might show him.

And he could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw shooting targets set up at various ranges away from a small makeshift stand, upon which sat his pride and beauty, the one he hadn't been allowed to touch.

"Are… you serious!?" He gushed, running forwards. He took the thing in his hands, feeling its intricacies all over, touching his fingers to the detailing on the barrel. He'd practically memorized the thing already, and he pretty much knew how guns worked just as well as any other gun nut. Lots of time on the internet, lots of videos about how to use and clean a gun, lots of research all leading to this moment.

"I am," Cor stood with his hands behind his back. "Try not to wet yourself over it."

He could hear laughter somewhere far away - Noctis, for sure. Even Gladio and Ignis had a certain glint in their eyes. Other Glaives were eyeing him from the corners of their eyes, curious as to how the newly fledged gunslinger would fare.

"So… what do I do?" Prompto took the pistol in his hand, aiming it away from himself and towards the nearest target. Instinctually he closed his left eye - he was right handed - and envisioned the bullseye of the thing in his sights. He didn't realize his tongue was sticking out of his mouth in all his concentration until Cor was right beside him, guiding him.

"Stand with your feet a little bit apart," He commanded. "The way you carry yourself will impact your ability to shoot by a lot."

"Got it," Prompto spread his feet, squaring himself.

"Steady your shoulders."

"On it."

"Always stay a little forward," He continued. "It'll help you manage recoil."

"Sure, big guy," It slipped out of Prompto's mouth before he could catch it. Cor rolled his eyes, but didn't chastise him.

"Grip is important," Cor instructed. "Support the gun with your full weight. Thumbs out straight - it'll help you aim."

"Like this?" Prompto inquired. His finger felt itchy, so close to the trigger. But the pistol was surprisingly small in his hands; or maybe he was just clumsy and awkward.

"Better," Cor nodded. "Don't hold on so tight your knuckles turn white. But not too loose, either. Comfortable. Stable."

"This is a lot to remember…" Prompto mumbled to himself, a little less certain than before. No matter how many videos he watched, no matter how many articles he read, it just wasn't the same as the real thing in his hands.

"And stop squinting your eye," Cor barked. "You look like an idiot."

"Oh…" More laughter from the crowd that was watching him. "Okay." Prompto tried not to close his left eye, and it felt weird, keeping them both open like this.

"That might help for sharp shooting, it's true," Cor admitted. "But you'll be in combat situations where you need to be aware of your surroundings. You'll need to know what's around you, what's coming at you, what's trying to kill you…" He cleared his throat. "Can't do that with one eye closed. Better to get used to it now."

Prompto's heart stopped a little - what a rallying pep talk.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't hold your breath. This isn't a sniper rifle - we'll get there eventually," Cor crossed his arms. "Just breathe naturally. And when you pull the trigger, the slower you go, the more precise your shot will be."

"Ok…"

Would he ever let Prompto fire the gun?

"Set your sights on that target, there," Cor pointed to the target underneath the big Oak tree erupting from the ground; it was about mid-range, certainly not the closest target, and certainly not the farthest away, either. "And show me what you can do."

Prompto blinked. He tried not to think too much. If he thought too much, he'd mess up for sure. He tried to breathe as naturally as possible, holding the gun like an extension of his arms, instead of something foreign, something alien. He tried to imagine he was aiming his camera, picturing the way the lighting would hit the target from above, and how he'd envision his shot before snapping the shutter release, similar to how he should picture this shot before pulling the trigger.

He fired, the recoil jarring him a little, though his arms stayed steady.

The sound of it continued to ring in his ears as he witnessed where his bullet had made impact.

The target, shaped like a human, had a bullseye in its head, and Prompto had cleaved it through. It wasn't quite dead-center, but it was closer than he ever thought possible for his first ever shot taken.

Cor smiled.

"Again."

He excelled after that.

It was like a video game to him, or a really cool exercise for photography, the way he learned to master the gun. Cor gave him exercise after exercise, pushing him to his limits, and it didn't feel like grueling, traumatizing combat training anymore. He woke up every morning energized, practicing his stance in the mirror of his bedroom, working on his breathing while he made his way to the Citadel.

He advanced from stationary shooting to mobile targets, and, eventually, mobile self, and pretty soon Cor was giving him other guns to try - SMGs, sniper rifles, assault rifles. He had him practice how to throw grenades, though never with a live one, and showed him how to shoulder a bazooka, though not one that was ever live.

It was like Christmas.

Each night Prompto would go home, or back to Noct's, and instead of playing King's Knight, he'd read up more on the weapons he was learning how to use, studying how best to handle them, how best to situationally use them, how they were made, how their components were put together. He was like a sponge for it all, more excited about this than he'd been about anything.

So he was a little bit surprised when Ignis made the comment one night that Inertia hadn't been around like she used to, and Prompto was a little bit ashamed of himself for having not noticed.

He'd sent her a few invitations for King's Knight back before he'd been allowed to use the gun, although ever since he hadn't really played that much himself. He'd sent her a few offhand texts, but she'd never replied. While he was sure it had hurt his feelings at the time, the way he became consumed by guns, he kind of forgot about everything else.

And his friends were shocked.

"You didn't even notice, did you?" Noctis laughed, gnawing at the Anuk Ignis had prepared for them. "You're such a nerd!"

"You're gonna marry one of those guns," Gladio rolled his eyes.

"Indeed. This is the first time I've seen you distracted away from an appealing young woman," Ignis noted, a smile dusting his lips. Prompto rolled his eyes, chowing down on his food.

"Is it pick on Prompto day?" He whined between bites.

"Every day is pick on Prompto day," Gladiolus retorted.

"Inertia's probably just busy," Noctis added, returning back to the conversation at hand. "I'm sure she's fine." Prompto hadn't considered it before, but ever since her match with him, when King Regis had stolen them away from the training grounds, she hadn't been around like she used to be. In fact, he hadn't seen her at all.

"I'm sure poor Ignis is just as heartbroken," Gladio taunted. Ignis glared at him, his spectacles glinting in the glow of the fluorescent lights in Noct's apartment.

"Gladiolus, envy does you no credit," Ignis shook his head. "I apologize the young lady prefers the company of myself and Mr. Argentum, but there's no need to take it out on me."

Prompto wasn't listening anymore as the two began to bicker. Instead, he was lost in thought. Iggy was into her too? He guessed he hadn't noticed, what with all the commotion in the last few months. He figured all this time their relationship was professional, and Gladiolus loved to stir the pot, but something about the way Ignis glared at Gladio told Prompto, in his gut, there was more to it.

It was weird. He didn't think he'd ever seen Ignis sweet on a girl before.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, a little unsure of himself. But if there was any chance he could see her again, he'd take it.

Hey, been awhile. Hope you're doing good!

Ignis was restless when he returned home that evening.

He wasn't stupid.

He and Gladiolus had been under strict order not to reveal Inertia's secrets to the prince, or anyone else, for that matter. The idle chatter of the Crownsguard and Kingsglaives had demolished that initiative. A sparring match between herself and the Crown Prince later, and he hadn't seen her since.

He was sure King Regis had ordained it that day, after everything he'd tried to protect his son from fell down around him so quickly.

Regis was a fine and just King, but he was an even better father. Ignis had nothing but respect for the man, and in a world where he'd never known his own father, and his uncle wasn't the warmest of people, he'd almost come to look up to Regis as a father figure of his own.

Even still, he'd instilled distance between him and Inertia, and it left him feeling surprisingly hollow.

He hated when Gladiolus was right, loath as he was to admit it.

He typed a message on his phone, hoping, against his better judgment, she would answer for once.

Hope you're staying out of trouble.

She ignored their texts like all the rest, sighing to herself as she hid her phone away. She was curious why they each seemed to text her at the same time, and part of her wondered if it was some sort of pissing contest between the two. Just another reason not to be involved - the last thing she wanted was to come between friends. Then she felt guilty for even considering the prospect. You're not special, she scolded herself. They'd never be interested in a fuck up like you.

She glanced down at the address on the slip of paper she held close, looking back up the small house before her.

Barrick's house.

She wondered if this was truly the right thing for her to be doing.

After effectively ruining this poor boy's life, did she really have the right to be here? To be checking on his well being, when not too long ago it was her mission to destroy it?

She opened the gate of the white picket fence. The paint was chipping away, the gate creaking under her weight. It was old, and weathered, and in poor shape. The rest of the house didn't look that much better.

She frowned at the screen door waiting for her on the porch. The windows were old and dusty, the porch rotting, the door off its hinge, a little askew.

She gulped before knocking on the front door.

She waited a moment, then another, then another, and the anticipation was killing her. She could hear commotion inside, someone scrambling towards the door, some squeals of delight from somewhere far off, a dog barking.

"Just a second!" She heard. She shifted from foot to foot nervously - she could warp away if she were truly that desperate. They'd never know she was here.

The door opened before she could make good on her cowardice.

A teenager opened it up, a little flabbergasted. He had blonde hair like Barrick, but it was in a messy ponytail, and none of it was shaved. He was tall and lean, though broad shouldered too, just like his brother. If this truly was his brother. But with 9 siblings at home, she figured it must be.

"Lady Inertia?" The kid fumbled for words, red flushing his cheeks. He took a knee in the doorway, bowing his head.

"No, please-" She touched his arm to get his attention. "Please rise."
He did as he was told, getting back to his feet. He towered her - like everyone other adult she knew - which told Inertia he must be in high school, at least.

"What's your name?" She asked him, reaching her hand out to him.

"Uh… J-Jamison, milady," He stuttered, taking her hand. He gave her a firm shake, and she could see Barrick inside, rounding the corner. He looked surprised to see her, but not unhappy.

"Jamie," Barrick put a hand on his brother's shoulder, and Inertia was surprised to find the teenager was actually a little taller than his older brother. "Stop making an ass of yourself."
"I'm not making an ass of anything!" Jamison - Jamie - whined, and Inertia laughed.

"It's good to see you, Barrick," She smiled at him. "I take it this is your brother?"

"What gave us away," Barrick rolled his eyes, clapping the kid on the back. "He's the 2nd oldest."

"Tallest though," Jamie beamed, grabbing his brother around the neck, trying to tussle his hair. Barrick groaned.

"Enough, shrimp," He pushed him off with a laugh. "It's good to see you, Lady Inertia. Though I must say, this is a surprise."

"I apologize for the intrusion," She offered, a little lost for words. She didn't even have a good reason to be here. "I honestly just wanted to see how you were doing."

"That's awfully kind of you, milady," He smiled, a brilliant thing that reached his eyes. He looked so much happier now than when they'd faced King Regis together, and it warmed her heart. He stepped aside then. "Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, thank you, but I-" She fumbled. "I truly couldn't impose."

"It's not imposing!" Jamie burst out. "We've got some little sisters who'd love to meet ya."

"Our mom, too," Barrick said. "She loves to cook for people. She'd be overjoyed if she could cook for the Oracle's first lady."

She glanced at her watch - 5:32. It was evening, and supper was definitely imminent. And she hated trying to figure out the ingredients in her own apartment. It gave her anxiety every time she tried. She remembered the feeling of Ignis's hand on her own then, and the way he'd cooked for her at her place. The way his stew had tasted, the way his eyes looked. She shook it from her memory - no need for those thoughts now.

"I'd love to," She ceded finally, letting them see her inside.

In total, there were 12 people in the house, plus 1 dog. Barrick was the oldest of 10 siblings at 21. Jamison, or Jamie, was the 2nd oldest at 17. They had another sister, Jezebel, who was 15. Trinity, a pretty thing, was 14, and Mackey, a rebellious boy, was 12. The twins, a boy named Cress and a girl named Shiver, were 10. Augusta, the girl with the angelic voice, was 9. Olya the dancer, a ballerina to be precise, was only 6. And the youngest, a boy named Razen, was just a toddler at 3.

Their dog, a big, fluffy, white and tan thing, so large she could swear she could ride him into battle, was only a year old, and his name was Fang. Their old dog, Moose, had passed away suddenly a few years back, and when Jamie had found Fang as a puppy, abandoned in a dumpster, he'd brought him home without hesitation.

He fit in instantly.

Their father's name was Barth, and he was a simple, honest engineer, born and raised in Lucis. He had been designing some of the infrastructure of the Crown City when he sustained a back injury, which grossly inhibited his ability to work, and so now he was stuck designing from home, sorely limited by his disability. But his desire to work had never waned, and it drove him crazy, having to stay in one place all the time. When he lost his job due to his injury, he lost his health insurance with it, and couldn't afford a better doctor.

Their mother, Kiva, was a refugee in the Great War, and was originally from Tenebrae. She had met Barth by accident when her refugee documentation had blown away in the breeze one sunny afternoon down an Insomnian street, and right onto Barth's construction site.

The two fell in love instantly.

Every single one in the family had beautiful, golden hair. Some had brown eyes like their father, some blue like their mother.

And it warmed Inertia's heart when they asked her to stay for dinner, and when Augusta asked her to sing for her, and then, to sing with her. As the Oracle's lady-in-waiting, she, too, was versed in the ways of the song, though many neglected that fact, instead relying solely on Luna for her beautiful voice. It was hard not to love Luna, but it was hard not to fall into her shadow, either.

The twins asked her to be the referee for them as they wrestled. Olya asked her to watch her dance. Mackey showed her the tricks Fang could do.

After a delicious meal, in which she discreetly avoided the meat on the table (though this was no problem, for Kiva made plenty of food for her to devour in the meanwhile), she said her goodbyes, a little disheartened by the fact she had to leave them behind. They laughed with her, and sang with her, and treated her like one of their own, and as she watched Barrick lift little Razen into his arms, holding him upside down and tickling his stomach, or as she saw Jamison help his mom with dishes in the kitchen, or as she watched Barth help his daughter with her homework, she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family.

"Come back soon!" Jamie called from the front door, waving at her as she left.

Barrick walked her to the little fence, showing her his gratitude.

"I appreciate you coming out here today, Lady Inertia," He thanked her wholeheartedly. "The King's been awfully good to me, and I wouldn't have had that opportunity if it weren't for you."

"Please, Barrick," She shook her head. "Anyone would have done the same." She looked back to the little house so full of life, and grinned. "To see what it was you were protecting here… I don't think anyone would have done any differently in your position. I'm just sorry I cost you so much."

"Are you kidding?" He laughed. "I may not be a Glaive anymore, but you've given me the world, Lady Inertia." He gripped her into a tight hug, and she squeaked in surprise. It wasn't anything vulgar or inappropriate - it was sincere, and full of heart. She hugged him back, overwhelmed by the emotions that welled up in her chest. "We're getting so much from the Citadel, I might even be able to fix up the house soon." He beamed, letting her go. "The fence is first! This fence has watched over me my whole life."

He was making enough to buy a new house for his large family, but he didn't want something new, or luxurious. He wanted what he always had.

His humility caught her off guard.

"That's really great, Barrick," She smiled up at him. "Shoot a text Saber's way when you get a chance. I'm sure she'll want to hear all about it."

"You… you've talked to Saber?" He looked dumbfounded. "She doesn't hate me?"

"On the contrary!" Inertia laughed. "She's worried sick about you."

"Wow," He grinned. "I'll do just that, Lady Inertia!"

"Barrick!" Little Olya's voice called from the doorway. "You're gonna miss dessert!"
"I gotta run," He shot Inertia one last grin. "Don't be stranger!"

He trotted back into the house, a happy bark from Fang, and a delighted squeal from his little sister, and he was gone.

She was quiet the rest of her walk back to the Citadel. She was too numb to cry. Still in shock. Luna was her only real family, Luna, Gentiana, Umbra, Pryna, and Griseo. Ravus had lost that privilege long ago. But even still, nothing about their rapport was normal - constantly hiding from the Empire, their lives in danger, under constant watch by gods who never answered her. She couldn't enjoy them with the innocence and sincerity Barrick could enjoy his family; they were duty bound, kingdom-pledged, and utterly without freedom.

She recalled the way Barth's eyes filled with pride when he looked at his children. The way Kiva's bosom swelled as her son helped her in the kitchen.

As much as she adored Lady Lunafreya, she was no substitute for a mother.

And Ardyn was less of a father than any man she'd ever known.

It was what she'd always wanted, and what she'd never have.