Archive of Our Own

The first thing Noctis felt as he drifted towards awareness was the freezing cold stone against his back. His body felt like one big bruise, limbs buzzing with numbing status, the taste of iron filling his mouth. His head throbbed in time with his pulse, a high-pitched ringing in his ears that was slowly starting to fade. He took in a pained breath, managing to crack open his eyes just enough to see tree branches swaying above him, the star-filled night sky hanging high above him.

His eyes squinted shut as searched back in his mind, trying to remember how he got here. He and the others were nearing the end of Fociaugh Hollow, finishing Ramuh’s trial. They found the final room, which had the last runestone, the surface smooth, white quartz and humming with electricity. Noctis had reached out in order to finish the pact, then…

Nothing. He remembered a lot of lightning, Ramuh’s booming voice pounding against his mind, his vision going white… but that didn’t explain how he got outside. Maybe Gladio carried him out? But then, why didn’t they put him in the tent?

As the ringing in Noctis’ ears began to fade, he could hear the crackling of a fire and the distant cries of daemons, but not Ignis stirring a pot of food, the small clicks from Prompto’s camera as he looked through the day’s photos, or Gladio turning the page of his pulp romance novel. It was just different enough to set him on edge, and he clenched his hands into fists, trying to force his body to roll over, get up, and figure out where everyone was—

“Ah, you’ve finally come to!”

The chancellor’s deep, familiar voice from a few feet away broke the paralysis locking his body in as Noctis shot up from his prone position. The scar on his back flared with agony as his spine and hips seized, forcing him into an awkward position. He grit his teeth and let out a muffled yell of pain as he was frozen, forced to wait for his muscles to relax with Ardyn gods-damned Izunia within speaking distance. He reached for the familiar cold magic of the Armiger to summon his sword, but it felt like he ran headfirst into a brick wall, his magic sputtering and dying in less than a second.

A flash of white out of the corner of his eye was all the warning he got before a large, cool hand pressed against his forehead, another resting above the small of his back, just below his scar. He instinctively tried to pull away, but couldn’t even manage to twitch as his muscles cramped further. His breathing picked up, feeling trapped despite Ardyn barely touching him, and he balled his hands into fists as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

Ardyn’s hands were cold, the sensation spreading out across his back and head like a balm. The pain wracking his body went from ‘agonizing’ to ‘bearable,’ and it was a relief when Noctis could move his legs to sit under his own power. When his back muscles relaxed, Noctis pulled away from the chancellor and tried summoning his sword again.

The first thing he realized was that, despite being slightly calmer and certainly less in pain, Noctis still couldn’t access the Armiger. The wall-like sensation was still there, as if a barrier had been erected around the pool of magic that he had always been able to freely access, which… he wasn’t sure was even possible before now. As far as he was aware, no king in history had been cut off from the power of the crystal so thoroughly, and that was terrifying.

The second thing was that there was no way the guy sitting three feet away could be Chancellor Ardyn Izunia.

Ardyn, despite Noctis having only met him a grand total of three times, was an extremely distinct person. Even ignoring his fashion style (really, who wore, like, three different layers and a big ass coat? Noctis was barely coping with the heat of Duscae with just his shirt and jacket), his short, curled hair and smug attitude made him stand out in Noctis’ memory. He offered aid, but it always felt like there were strings attached, holding something over their heads and openly expressing his untouchable position.

The person who was tending to him was… similar, sure—same hair color, same scruffy, square chin, same amber eyes that glinted in the firelight—but everything else didn’t stick. His hair was long, curling slightly at the bottom, instead of the wild, crazy curls Ardyn had. Gone were the intricate coats, the man only wearing a simple cotton shirt, black pants, and leather shoes. His expression was honest and open, staring at Noctis with concern, hands still outstretched, not having moved an inch. 

It was… genuine, and being genuine wasn’t something the chancellor was good at. Or maybe it was Ardyn, and Noctis was overthinking things. Either way, he felt like he’d walked straight into an episode of the Twilight Zone.

A warble from the far side of the campsite drew Noctis’ attention away from the man to a large, black-feathered Chocobo. It’s head was tilted as it watched Noctis, a thin blanket draped over it’s back and a small satchel resting in the crook of its legs. Looking around more, Noctis could see the familiar, glowing runes of a Haven, the firepit he’d heard crackling upon waking up, and a small, rustic-looking kettle hung above it, faint wisps of steam coming from the spout.

“Now, now Obsi, no need to get excited.” Ardyn said, and Noctis’ eyes immediately focused on him, reflexively stepping back as he stood up. He went over to the kettle, pulling it off its setup and onto the ground. He then went over to his bag, pulling out two clay cups and a small pouch, sitting back down as he started preparing what Noctis could only assume was a really, really old style way of making tea. “I know you like meeting new people, but we should give him a moment to himself.”

“...I’m right here, y’know.” Noctis spoke up, his voice surprisingly steady considering that he felt like he was walking on a tightrope, one wrong move sending him plummeting towards certain doom.

“I’m not ignoring you, young one, simply soothing my chocobo.” The man poured the hot water into the cups before reaching into his pouch, pinching some cut-up leaves and dropping it in. He picked up one of the cups and held it out to Noctis. “I was once told that conversations with new people tend to go better with a cup of tea.”

Noctis couldn’t hide his confusion even if he tried. What was he talking about, ‘new people?’ They knew each other, though definitely not in this weird, one-on-one type of setting.

“Hm, perhaps I overstepped…” Ardyn muttered, lowering the cup before addressing Noctis again. “Have I offended you in some way? I assumed having some tea would be nice, but…”

“...You are so freaking weird.” Noctis said as he took the cup and sat down, wincing as a slight twinge in his back flared up. “There, happy? I took your tea.”

“I would be happier if you drank it, friend.” Ardyn said before taking a sip from his own cup. “It’s an herbal blend, and should help with any injuries I may not have caught on my initial inspection.”

“Do I want to know what an ‘inspection’ is?”

“Nothing terrible, I assure you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not an ‘assuring’ kind of guy.”

Ardyn frowned, then shrugged, settling against his chocobo’s side, the large bird crooning and nuzzling at his long, wavy hair. “To make a rather long story short, I was travelling to Lestallum when I saw a lightning bolt strike nearby. I came to make sure a forest fire wasn’t going to break out, and instead, I found you badly singed in one of the smaller hollows, but otherwise alright. However, considering the reaction you had upon waking up, you may still need assistance and I cannot do much with my limited supplies.”

Noctis furrowed his brow, looking down at his cup and the cut-up herbs floating within. Ardyn’s story had basically confirmed that Ramuh had done something, but what happened to Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis? “So… what now? I mean, thanks for getting me out of there before a daemon ate me, but what do you want?”

“What I want is to see you to safety.” Noctis glanced through his bangs as Ardyn petted his chocobo’s side, looking up at the stars. “I’ve been travelling for a while now, providing aid where I can. An odd stranger who was unfortunate enough to get struck by lightning is no different from an ailing child, or a battle-scarred soldier. Lestallum is only a day’s trip away, and it’s no strain for me to accompany you there.”

God, what the hell. This had to be the oddest thing Ardyn had done, and Noctis was struggling to see where this kind of scheme could lead. He had separated Noctis from his friends, had the prince at his complete mercy, could probably call down an airship and drag Noctis to Niflheim with ease , and he was just… going to bring him to Lestallum. 

But it wasn’t like Noctis had much of a choice. He couldn’t access the Armiger, which meant no phone, no camping gear, and no map. Walking to Lestallum was out of the question, and he didn’t have any money to rent a Chocobo of his own. Maybe convince Ardyn to go near Wiz’s and then… maybe he could hide in the store? Or many steal one of the birds and make a break for Hammerhead. Cid probably wouldn’t like him bringing trouble, but Cindy might let him stay at the camper for free until he found the others.

Ignis would’ve been disappointed at such a nothing plan, but it was better than having nothing. And, if he couldn’t convince Ardyn… well, Lestallum had plenty of tiny cramped alleyways to sneak through, he could probably lose the chancellor there.

Probably.

“So, we leave at dawn?” Noctis asked, placing his tea to the side. He wasn’t going to risk drinking it, and besides, he wasn’t the biggest fan of tea.

“Ah—” Ardyn started, appearing surprised before he smiled gently. “Yes, that was my plan. However, before we rest for our journey tomorrow, I would like to know your name.”

“...You serious?”

“Yes?”

“But you—” Noctis cut himself off, running his hand through his hair. Maybe this was just another part of his weird-ass plot that Noctis was not going to devote the brain power to understanding. “Fine, I’ll play along. It’s Noctis.”

“Noctis…” Ardyn purred, his eyes lidding as he stared at the chosen king. Noctis squirmed under his gaze, feeling something flutter nervously in his chest before the chancellor closed his eyes, scratching at the base of his chocobo’s neck. “My name is Ardyn, and I must say, you are quite possibly the oddest person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Says the pot to the kettle.” Noctis pushed all the sarcasm he could into his voice before reluctantly laying on his side, making sure he could still see Ardyn across the Haven. The fire burned bright, its warmth seering compared to the freezing stone at his side and the cool forest breeze nipping at his back.

All he could do was hope the next day would go by quickly.

Noctis felt someone grab his shoulder and shake him, and he jolted awake, trying to roll away from the threat as his hand landed on slick stone, slipped, and he fell back on his side. His eyes flew open, and he looked around in a panic, forgetting where he was before he saw Ardyn’s face, highlighted by the faint light of dawn, hovering above him.

“Apologies, I didn’t expect you to startle so badly.” Ardyn started. “However, I’ve finished packing up my equipment, and we should move once the sun has risen a bit more.”

When Noctis had suggested getting a move on at dawn, he’d been kind of kidding. He mostly meant ‘once the sun is up’ because, y’know, daemons, but he was hoping Ardyn wouldn’t be this much of a dick. Still, the sudden wake-up had sent his heart racing, and there was no way he could fall back asleep after that, so… off they went, he guessed.

Except another problem immediately arose: Ardyn wanted to actually walk.

According to Ardyn, he felt that his chocobo, Obsidian, couldn’t support both their weight. His plan was for Noctis to ride in the saddle while he held the reins, guiding Obsidian through the woods and fending off any monsters. Noctis thought that that was stupid, because there was no way that saddlesharing could cripple a full-grown chocobo. When he asked why they couldn’t go to Wiz’s and rent a second one if Ardyn was so concerned, the chancellor only tilted his head, looking at Noctis like he’d grown a second head, so that went absolutely nowhere.

After very, very carefully testing it, they learned Obsidian could carry both their weight, though she couldn’t go much faster than a trot. Still, it was faster than walking, and they both agreed to give her a break if it looked like she was struggling. By the time their bickering ended, the sun had fully risen. Progress was slow, but definitely quicker than if they were just walking. The biggest problem was that Noctis couldn’t attempt to escape now, seeing as there was no way he could outrun a Chocobo, and if he couldn’t access the Armiger, he doubted he could warp.

That, and riding like this was… awkward. Ardyn’s saddle was designed for only one person, and Ardyn insisted on sitting in front since he knew the way. Noctis had to hold onto him, arms wrapped around the larger man’s stomach, because if he didn’t he could slide off the saddle and hurt Obsidian, or worse, himself.

He did his best to ignore how he could feel Ardyn’s hard muscles beneath his hands. The shirt he was wearing hid his body well, but like this, Noctis could almost feel the faint outline of abs. He turned his head to the side, watching the scenery go by, resting his head against Ardyn’s back. He could hear the chancellor’s heartbeat and his slow, deep breaths, and it almost lulled him to sleep a few times. 

The forest seemed almost never-ending, and through his half-lidded gaze, Noctis could see countless monsters darting through the undergrowth, but they never approached, almost scared to. Which was weird, because why wouldn’t they? A chocobo with two riders was an easy meal for a pack of Hundlegs. And in all those hours of trotting through the seemingly never-ending woods, he never heard the worrying hum of an MT drop ship overhead, or the distant whistling of a car passing by.

Was Ardyn leading him through nothing but back roads? They should’ve been near one of the main streets by now, or at least seen someone else by now.

“How do you feel, Noctis?” Ardyn asked, jolting Noctis out of his thoughts. Noctis grimaced against his back, still feeling painful twinges in his back and leg, and the saddle was not helping.

“Could be worse.” He replied, trying to adjust and only causing more pain as a result. His grip on Ardyn’s waist tightened, and he took some deep breaths to try ignoring it. “How long ‘til we get to Lestallum.”

“Not long now, perhaps another hour at the most.”

“Wha—really?” The sun was high above them, sure, but he’d expected it to get there by nightfall, if not another day of travelling considering they weren’t going at full speed. Noctis peered over Ardyn’s shoulder, seeing nothing but trees, trees, aaand more trees. “We haven’t even gotten close to the Meteor.”

“Well, we didn’t need to go near it, and since we felt that time was a more important factor than being careful, I’ve been cutting through uncharted territory.”

“‘Uncharted’?”

“Well, it’s not exactly un charted, just not well charted.” Ardyn joked as he guided Obsidian through a patch of undergrowth. “I’ve discovered most people don’t like travelling through the forest. They’d rather stick to beaten paths.”

“...Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Why Noctis, I’m offended! Of course I do.” Ardyn said happily as they finally broke free of the endless sea of trees. They were on the top of a large hill, allowing Noctis to see for miles and miles out across the land of Lucis. There was nothing but green— green fields, green trees, green grass—with sparkling, beautifully clear rivers breaking up the land. Off in the distance was a large town, the buildings older in design, not like the modern, square brick buildings and the motels he’d stayed at in the past.

And the beautiful view in front of him, one that Prompto would probably kill to take a photo of, was the last straw for that feeling of wrongness that had settled in his stomach from the second he woke up. 

Because there weren’t any paved roads. Noctis couldn’t see a single car driving by. There should have been a few imperial bases between Fociaugh Hollow and Lestallum—he had driven past them so many times, knew where they were, like blights poisoning the land—but they weren’t there. Noctis looked to his right, trying to find the familiar, blindingly white buildings of Lestallum to the north. All he saw were mountain ranges.

Ardyn could change his outfit, play dumb and sweet, wrangle a chocobo and offer to ‘help’ Noctis. All of that was doable, and Noctis would be a fool to buy the ruse, but it was doable.

Ardyn couldn’t level entire cities in less than a day and make it appear as if nothing was there. He couldn’t erase entire military bases like they’d never existed. He couldn’t build an entire, old-looking town that was definitely not there before without catching someone’s attention. That wasn’t possible.

Noctis hadn’t even realized he was struggling to breathe until Ardyn turned around, jostling Noctis’ panicked hold and nearly knocking him off Obsidian’s back. The chocobo was kwehing with concern, trying to peer over her back, as if she could sense Noctis’ mounting panic, and Ardyn was stuck in the middle, trying to juggle both of them. “Obsi, calm down, sweetheart. Noctis, what’s wrong?”

“Th-this… none of this is right.” Noctis choked out around the lump in his throat, his heart rate picking up as he tried to comprehend what was directly in front of him. “How is this…?”

“Is it Lestallum? Do you not want to go there?” Ardyn said, sliding off Obsidian’s back and taking Noctis’ hands in his, his cold skin somewhat grounding for the moment, but then he kept talking. “You didn’t oppose to the suggestion when I mentioned it—”

“No, no, you don’t get it this—this isn’t Lestallum, you’re lying, you have to be lying! I don’t know what… what…” 

Black spots danced around the edges of Noctis’ vision as the choking feeling intensified, as if there was an iron band wrapping tighter and tighter around his chest. He could hear Ardyn’s voice, Obsidian’s continued, panicked warbles, but they sounded like they were underwater, and Noctis was sinking, sinking, sinking…

It was almost a relief when he could feel his body giving out, sliding off Obsidian’s saddle and into Ardyn’s arms. He didn’t get to revel in it before his mind shut down, and he was left in darkness, hoping that all of this was some sick, terrible dream.

Noctis awoke abruptly, his body jerking as he took in a quick, sharp breath. His eyes flew open to see an unfamiliar roof above him—aged wooden logs, not stucco—laying in an uncomfortable bed and a scratchy blanket thrown over him. For a moment, he was confused, searching back in his memory to try and figure out how he’d gotten here, only to groan as the memories of the past day came back to him; the trial, waking up in the Haven with Ardyn, the Chocobo ride through the Duscaen woods, only to be brought to a village right out of his history textbooks, or an ancient painting hanging in one of Insomnia’s museums.

“Astrals, please tell me this is a dream.” Noctis whispered as he pushed himself out of the bed, stumbling towards the large window on the far wall, curtains pulled closed. He did his best to ignore that there was only one bed, and how all the furniture was wooden and old-fashioned, and that there wasn’t any technology in the room, not even a wall clock. “Please let this be some old-timey hotel in the middle of nowhere that we’ve never been to, and the past day or whatever has been nothing more than some weird hallucination from sleep deprivation.”

Noctis pulled the curtains open and, though the sun was beginning to dip beyond the horizon, he could make out the old, one-floor buildings along the dirt paths. There were wooden carts with cloth coverings being pulled by chocobos, who were being guided by people dressed in robes and cotton shirts and pants, well-worn leather boots. There were pairs of lamp posts along the streets, which was the most modern-looking thing in sight… until Noctis saw a man walk up to one with a stick, opened one of the glass panes, and lit the lantern within.

“Okay.” Noctis said, his voice wavering slightly as he took a step back, and another, again, until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down. His hands were shaking slightly, and he gripped his pants until his knuckles turned white. “Definitely not a dream… okay, sure, that’s…”

A loud click came from behind Noctis, and he looked over his shoulder to see Ardyn nudge the door open with his hip, a large tray held in his hands. He had his head down, focused on the various bowls and mugs precariously stacked upon it, and he kicked the door closed behind him before looking up. “Ah, once again, you have risen from your slumber.”

Noctis stayed silent, turning to look at the window, the amber glow from the setting sun casting long shadows across the room. He felt oddly numb, disconnected and simply waiting for… something, he didn’t know. At least before, he had an idea of what to do and how to get back to everyone, but now…

Ardyn stepped further into the room, placing his tray on the small desk in the corner. He took the time to light a few candles around the room before returning to his tray. He picked up one of the mugs and a plate filled with faintly steaming food before bringing them over to Noctis, the king taking the offered meal mutely, watching as Ardyn returned to the desk and sat in its accompanied chair.

“They didn’t have any water?” Noctis asked, staring at the off-yellow liquid in his mug with a faint grimace. He didn’t hate beer, but he’d figured Ardyn would bring him something non-alcoholic after, y’know, randomly fainting and sleeping through most of the day.

“I’m certain you could drink from the river if you were desperate.” Ardyn almost joked, sipping at his own mug. “And, while I could prepare some more tea, I don’t believe the innkeep would appreciate my attempts to light a fire indoors.”

Noctis snorted, hysteria bubbling faintly in his chest. Here they were, the current King of Lucis and the maybe-future Chancellor of Niflheim or his ancient ancestor or something, sitting across from each other in some dingy inn in some gods forsaken year, joking over dinner. With only the slightest hesitation, Noctis raised his mug in a mock toast, then chugged it. The beer within was watered down, tepid, and tasted terrible, but maybe getting drunk could somehow make the world make sense.

“Now that I have supplied you with food, drink and shelter…” Ardyn began after Noctis finished his beer. “Can you tell me what caused that reaction? You did not oppose being brought to Lestallum when I first mentioned it, but if you are being pursued by someone, it would be good to know so we can leave before a bounty hunter breaks down the door.”

“No, I’m not… being hunted now, but I sort of was?” Noctis looked up to see Ardyn’s gentle smile had turned into a confused frown. “I don’t… I don’t know how to explain this, so just… give me a minute here, okay?”

Noctis slowly, hesitantly explained what happened to him before Ardyn found him. He didn’t mention everything, leaving out how he was going through Ramuh’s Trial, or that he was the King of Lucis. His story was already crazy enough, so claiming that he was the king of a country that might not even exist wasn’t going to do him any favors. The best thing to do was leave out a few details, change the story enough so that he was just a normal guy going through a dangerous cave system for a thrill, and then somehow was thrown Astrals knew how many years in the past.

Ardyn let out a noncommittal hum when Noctis finished, sipping at his beer with his eyebrow raised, fingers drumming against his mug. “You realize that what you’re telling me is… well, it beggars belief, to put it politely.”

“I know it is—trust me, I didn’t want to believe it either, but… I mean, there’s no other way to explain it.”

“There is; you were struck by lightning, you collapsed and hit your head, and your mind came up with false memories.” Ardyn shrugged. “It’s not a fantastical fairytale, mind you, but it’s far more reasonable than your claim of being from the future, of all things.”

“I’m not lying, and I didn’t hit my head!” Noctis snapped, placing his head in his hands. Weren’t his clothes weird enough to give his story some credence? Then again, when he saw how Ardyn was dressed upon waking up, his mind didn’t immediately leap to ‘oh yeah, I definitely time travelled.’

Feeling desperate, Noctis closed his eyes and reached for the Armiger again. That sensation of hitting a wall was still there, but now that he was prepared for it, he could carefully prod at it, pulling at what was closest to the surface. His sword was heavy and required more energy to pull out, same with his tackle box and fishing rod, but there was one thing that he could grab that might convince Ardyn.

Reaching into his pocket to hide the familiar flash of crystal light, Noctis managed to pull his phone free of the Armiger’s grasp and into his hand. His head immediately pounded, a migraine swiftly coming and pressing against his brain, and he did his best to hide a grimace as he held it out to Ardyn. “Here, maybe this will convince you.”

Ardyn lifted his eyebrow, grabbing Noctis’ phone with just his index and thumb, a heavy air of skepticism surrounding him as he held it upside down, looking at the back of the casing. “Pray tell, what... am I looking at?”

“It’s my phone. You’re holding it wrong—flip it over.” Noctis instructed, the maybe-future chancellor doing so only to yelp as the screen automatically lit up. Noctis dove off the bed to catch it just before it landed on the hardwood floor, letting out a sigh of relief. “Careful, you could’ve broken the screen!”

“How did it—” Ardyn started before getting out of his chair, kneeling on the floor and hooking his chin over Noctis’ shoulder. Noctis froze, goosebumps breaking out across his skin at the close proximity, the warm weight of Ardyn’s chest pressing against his side. “What is it?”

“It’s… a lot of things?” Noctis said, proud he could keep the nervous tremor out of his voice as he glanced at the battery life. It was lower than what he would’ve liked, but it would be enough to get the point across. “It runs on electricity.”

“You mean levinbolts?” Ardyn asked, and Noctis had to hold back a snort at his almost childish curiosity.

“Sort of? There’s a battery that you can charge, and…” Noctis trailed off, realizing that literally nothing that he was talking about existed, and he didn’t know how to explain it in a way that made sense. “Point is, it’s main ‘use’ is for communicating with people who are really far away.”

“So, it’s a linkpearl, but more… metallic?”

“What’s a linkpearl?” Noctis asked, only to continue before Ardyn could explain. “Y’know what? Nevermind. I don’t know what that is, but I don’t think your linked-pearls can do this.”

Noctis quickly typed in his passcode, his lock screen picture of the Citadel shifting to his home screen, a picture of him and the rest of his entourage taking a pre-road trip selfie. Ardyn leaned forward, letting out a little gasp as the images changed, watching Noctis open his music app with rapt attention. Noctis selected one of his favorite songs to play, the harp and distant-sounding drumbeat smoothly transitioning to the first words of the opening verse. They were silent as the song continued, Ardyn’s breath hitching as he reached out to hold the phone, their fingers brushing.

“Believe me now?” Noctis’ voice was hushed as he looked at Ardyn’s profile, heart skipping as he saw the open awe and curious expression. Ardyn turned to look at him slowly, mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggled to find words.

“I can say that, after seeing your… ‘phone,’ I am more open to believing your tall tale.” Ardyn said as he sat back, and Noctis had to hold back a shiver as they separated. “And, as it is my sworn duty to help those in need, I shall assist you in your journey to get home as best I can.”

From there, things were… easier? That word didn’t fit exactly, but it was the only one Noctis could think of to describe the week.

Yes, week. Ardyn apparently had business in Old Lestallum, and since Noctis had no clue how he got here and didn’t want to travel alone, they were still staying in the dingy inn he’d woken up in. Lestallum didn’t exactly have a library or anything, and the townsfolk didn’t have a whole lot to say about Fociaugh or the Astrals, so they were no closer to discovering how Noctis could get back to his time than they were on day one.

Despite this, the days passed quickly, Noctis taking up a few side jobs to earn some gil and Ardyn going around doing… whatever it was he did. Noctis asked once, and the man simply said he was ‘offering his aid’ with a small, almost dangerous smile. It reminded Noctis of the vague, creepy statements the chancellor made at Galdin Quay, and he swiftly dropped the topic. Better to keep Ardyn as a friend than pry and make a potential enemy.

Regardless, even though Noctis couldn’t find anything to research, he could still make a few theories. The first was the simplest: if Ramuh had sent him here, then Ramuh could send him back. All Noctis needed to do was contact Him and somehow convince an all-powerful god that he’d completed the trial and needed to go home.

The obvious problem with that was that Noctis didn’t have a clue how to talk to the Astrals. Ignoring that he couldn’t understand them, he didn’t know how to summon them, or get them to sort of… acquiesce and give him the time of day without trying to kill him. As far as Noctis was aware, the only person who could summon an Astral without having made a pact with them was the Oracle, assuming the Nox Fleuret bloodline even existed right now.

So that left the next best thing: waiting until another thunderstorm happened, running back to Fociaugh as fast as physically possible, and getting to the runestone before it ended. Ramuh was responsible for creating storms all across Eos, so if Noctis got to the runestone, an object specifically associated with Ramuh and the last thing Noctis had interacted with before being sent here, maybe he could somehow reach the Fulgarian plead his case.

Which meant he had a long, long time to wait until he could even attempt testing it. Time he spent doing small tasks to help the villagers, whether it was moving food crates or helping tend to the animals for the day. He was making money, even purchasing some cloaks to wear which helped him ‘blend in.’ It felt good to help people, but he still spent every night falling asleep in his inn room feeling homesick and alone, Ardyn staying in the next room over, neither interacting much beyond meeting up in the morning to talk about what they were doing for the day.

So it was a surprise when, one night, there was a knock on his door. He was hesitant to open it at first, before remembering the Empire (didn’t exist) wasn’t here, and he didn’t have to constantly look over his shoulder.

His eyes widened when he saw Ardyn standing there, another tray of food in hand, a wine bottle and two glasses perched on one corner, a plate of freshly cooked meat in the other, no vegetables in sight. He held it out for Noctis to see, a warm smile on his face. “I was thinking we could talk about our upcoming plans, seeing as my duties here are nearly done.”

Noctis’ eyebrows raised, stepping to the side to let Ardyn pass, his mouth watering as he saw the steam rising off the meat platter. The food here wasn’t the best (a shocker, considering how much Iggy spoiled him with the delicacies he made every night), and anything that was good was out of his price range. He couldn’t imagine how much gil Ardyn must’ve spent getting something like that made, let alone the bottle of wine.

Dinner started off quiet, both of them preoccupied with eating and drinking their fill. Once their hunger had been somewhat sated and the wine had enough time to settle and loosen their lips, conversation flowed easily. Ardyn asked about the future and, while it was difficult to not tell Ardyn everything, Noctis managed to paint a cheery enough picture, one without the war weighing on his shoulders and nothing but the joys of the road trip ahead of him.

“An’ what about you?” Noctis asked, managing to not slur his words after three glasses of very nice, very tasty wine. He’d never had wine before, Ignis and Gladio keeping him away from it at all the stuffy balls he’d had to attend over the years, and he was going to kick their asses when he got back because wine was freaking great. “I know that you brought me to Lestallum cuz it was close, but where were you goin’ before that?”

“Nowhere as interesting as the cities of the future, I would imagine.” Ardyn replied, seemingly unaffected by the alcohol, except for the way he was lazily sprawled in his chair, head tilted back and over the chair’s edge. Noctis couldn’t help but stare at his adam's apple as he spoke. “I am a healer by trade and, every few months, I travel the land and offer whatever succor I can. Lestallum is rather large and was already on my itinerary, so bringing you here was… convenient.”

“God I wish that were me.” Noctis said, clumsily picking up another piece of meat and chewing it as he spoke. “I mean, yeah, it’s great to see the world ‘n all, but I feel like I’m going to places cuz I don’t have any other options. I want to help people, but I just… can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

“What I’ve learned in my profession is that you can’t save everyone.” Ardyn lifted his head, swirling his glass and watching the wine swish around before he chugged the rest of it. “And sometimes, the toll of doing so is too high to feasibly accomplish. Your strength will come in time, my nightingale, and it will come when you need it most.”

“Such wise words from an old fart.” Noctis giggled as he got up from his chair, the world suddenly spinning around him. His foot scuffed on the ground, his weight thrown off just enough to make his vision tilt, and before he could blink he was already falling to the ground.

There was a clatter before a warm arm wrapped around his back. Noctis’ arms flailed, and he managed to grab a handful of cloth before he hit the floor. Opening his eyes, Noctis’ blurry vision slowly focused, the moon full and bright, shining through his window and providing just enough light for him to see Ardyn hovering above him, cheeks flushed, eyes almost glowing gold.

Noctis doesn’t know what possessed him at that moment. Maybe it was the way the moonlight caught Ardyn's hair and face, making him look like Adonis reborn. Maybe it was the wine talking, destroying the barriers in his mind he’d spent years building up. Maybe this was just an urge he’d been suppressing since he first saw Ardyn at Galdin Quay, or when Ardyn offered to drive him to the Meteor, or even when the smug bastard rescued them from Titan’s collapse.

The reason didn’t matter. What mattered was that Noctis, hand still fisted in Ardyn’s shirt, pulled the man down, nearly bashing their noses together as he kissed him. He missed Ardyn’s lips initially, getting a mouthful of stubble before Ardyn’s hands cupped his cheeks and guided him, curling over Noctis’ body as he reciprocated. Molten warmth curled in Noctis’ stomach as they kissed, Noctis opening his mouth as he gasped, feeling Ardyn’s tongue push past his teeth, twirling around Noctis’ tongue.

And then Noctis’ brain woke up from it’s drunken stupor, slammed the brakes, and screamed, what the fuck are you doing?

Noctis reared back, nearly cracking his head open on the wood floor. Ardyn pulled back, openly confused, but Noctis didn’t think about it too long, rolling out from under him and drunkenly running out the door. Ardyn shouted something after him, but Noctis didn’t listen, racing down the stairs, out the door, grabbing his phone from his pocket and throwing it, demanding his magic work, work goddammit—

He managed to warp, but it was a mistake. If accessing the Armiger was like running into a brick wall, performing a warp felt like getting trampled, his body immediately protesting the pull of magic and defiance of physics. Combined with his dizziness from the wine and not concentrating on where he threw his phone, he was left suspended in mid-air, completely disoriented, as he plummeted, hit the ground with a heavy thud, the wind getting knocked out of him as he blacked out.

So, Noctis had a problem.

He had several, really, but the most pressing one was whatever the fuck happened last night and how he was going to handle that.

Waking up after passing out, Noctis placed his (thankfully undamaged) phone in his back pocket as he stumbled into the market, his hangover making the mid-morning sun the worst thing in the world. He burned some of his gil to purchase a pitcher of juice and a loaf of bread, sitting in the shade of one of the buildings as he slowly munched away, mind sluggishly whirling.

Thinking back on it, yeah, he couldn’t fully deny he’d been sneaking glances at Ardyn, both now and in his time. Still, there was a difference between slowly coming to that realization and having your feelings slam into you in a drunken stupor before you kiss the guy you’d, apparently, caught feelings for. There was also the extremely confusing moral dilemma of him being in the past, and this might not even be the Ardyn of the future, and he couldn’t exactly stay here but he’d just kissed someone and he’s going to have to explain why he did that—

His head pounded from the hangover, magic strain, and trying to understand the paradox of his entire situation. Astrals, he’s so fucked.

“I can do this. Probably.” Noctis said, finishing his food before standing up. The market was crowded this time of day, customers and passerbys alike bustling about as the stall owners shouted their wares, trying to get people interested in their merchandise. Noctis slinked through the throngs of people, eventually finding a stall shoved into the corner that was covered in stacks of paper, quills tightly bound with thread, and even a few ink pots on sale. Noctis wasn’t the best with his words, but writing letters to those he loved was common practice at this point in his life.

He still struggled, partly because there was so much he wanted to say, needed to explain… and partly because he didn’t have a single clue how to write with a quill. He had to settle with finding an out-of-the-way spot to sit down, paper on the ground, as he tried, again and again, to get it right.

Noctis didn’t return to the inn until after sunset, exhausted, fingers and cloak stained with ink, pockets stuffed with countless torn-up letters that, frankly, sucked. He had a semi-decent draft folded in his cloak, but it could be better. He’d work on it tomorrow, after his hands stopped cramping and his fingers weren’t as ink-stained as they were.

At the very least, he could apologize to Ardyn for drunkenly kissing him. Ardyn might have reciprocated but that still wasn’t okay, and saying sorry meant he didn’t have to explain why just yet. He knocked on Ardyn’s door, hearing a low hum from within, and pushed it open, mouth opening to immediately start apologizing before freezing mid-step.

Ardyn was in the midst of panickedly dressing, pants rumpled and hastily pulled up as he was currently in the midst of pulling on his shirt. While the sight of Ardyn’s back would’ve been enough to freeze on his own, what made Noctis stop were the dark purple, almost black veins spreading across Ardyn’s skin like a spiderweb.

Before Noctis could say anything, Ardyn pulled the shirt over his head, covering the black marks. He looked over his shoulder, hair a mess, dark bags under his eyes. “Ah, Noctis! I was hoping it was you at my door!”

“What was that?” Noctis asked immediately, closing the door behind him.

“What was what?” Ardyn tilted his head, a tired smile on his face. “If you’re referring to last night, I must apolo—”

“No, not… that, whatever was on your back.” Noctis walked up to Ardyn, placing his hand on Ardyn’s chest. “Are you okay? That didn’t look… normal.”

Ardyn’s smile faltered, then fell. His shoulders sagged as he fully turned to face Noctis. “I haven’t been… completely honest with you.”

No shit. Noctis thought, just thinking about the complete irony of Ardyn saying that before he continued. “I have been blessed by the gods to heal, to take peoples’ sickness away and fight it on my own. An outbreak of a rather catastrophic disease occurred here, and I came to take their burdens off their shoulders, and put it onto mine.”

Noctis’ eyes widened, lifting up his hand and placing it over Ardyn’s heart. It didn’t feel any different from the other times he’d grabbed Ardyn, the skin felt smooth and healthy, but then he felt something at the edges of his mind. Something dark, insidious, and wrong was in Ardyn, his magic stirring uneasily at the sensation, and he felt a cold stone of dread sink into his stomach.

“Are you… going to be okay?” He asked, fingers curling over Ardyn’s chest. “You can fight… whatever this thing is and live?”

Ardyn looked down at Noctis, his eyes glittering, a soft smile on his face. “Oh, my little levinbolt… you needn’t worry about me. I will shoulder this burden and save our star, I swear it.”

It was meant to be reassuring, but all Noctis could hear was there wasn’t a ‘yes’ in that sentence. Noctis’s fingers curled against Ardyn’s shirt as the cold reality of the situation set it. Ardyn wasn’t going to die at the end of a long, fulfilling life, not in ten years, not defending people to his last breath, but because he was trying to heal people at harm to his own life. He was burning the candle at both ends with no regard to his well-being, and Noctis couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Grabbing Ardyn’s biceps, Noctis stood on the tips of his toes and, with far less confidence than last night, kissed Ardyn again. It was more coordinated this time, but far less confident, Noctis just pressing his lips against Ardyn’s and waiting. Ardyn stood still the entire time, and just when Noctis was pulling away, doubt starting to creep into his heart, Ardyn leaned down and kissed him back, his hands grabbing Noctis’ waist. The hairs on Noctis’ arms and neck rose as the kiss grew more frantic, Ardyn stepping forward and guiding Noctis until the back of his knees hit the mattress, and they fell, together, entangled.

Neither of them knew how long they had, their time together limited, but for tonight… tonight they were together, and could ignore the weight of the world pressing on their shoulders.

A loud clap of thunder woke Noctis, the rumble so powerful it shook in his chest, a flash of lightning piercing through the inn room’s curtains and casting harsh shadows along the wall. He can hear rain pattering against the roof, the streets outside, the faint light of dawn further obscured by the heavy storm clouds.

It was time.

Noctis turned his head to see Ardyn laying beside him, one arm thrown over Noctis’ chest, asleep and blissfully unaware of how his lover’s heart was racing. With a painfully slow breath, Noctis sat up, carefully maneuvering Ardyn’s arm off him as he stood. He dressed carefully, throwing his cloak over his shoulders and pulling the hood over his head.

He looked back at Ardyn’s sleeping form. The blanket had pulled down enough to expose his sun-kissed skin. Hovering over his heart was a pool of black, resting just underneath his skin, purple veins spreading across his chest, the sight of which made Noctis’ stomach twist. It wasn’t right, whatever was in Ardyn, and by the time Noctis could do anything about it, he’d be two thousand years too late.

With shaking hands, Noctis reached into the Armiger and brought out the letter he’d drafted. It wasn’t his best version and knew he could do better, but it was the only one he managed to fit everything on one page and finish. He didn’t think he’d be leaving it with Ardyn so soon—he honestly thought he was just going to hand Ardyn the letter, ashamed and hoping he’d understand, as they shared another dinner, but clearly, the gods had different plans for him. 

He placed the letter on the desk, folded into a triangle shape, Ardyn’s name was hastily scribbled on the outside and placed in clear view of the bed. There was no time to wake his lover and explain; the storm could be gone in an hour or last the whole day, he didn’t know. If he missed this one, he could be waiting for weeks or months for the next. He had to go, now, and hope this worked.

Knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less as he left the inn, placing a handful of gil on the counter to pay for the room. The rain beat down on him, the drops cold and heavy, almost hail-like as they easily pierced through his cloak. The chocobo porter was annoyed at being woken up so early, but she quieted down when Noctis shoved all his remaining money at her in exchange for the fastest chocobo in her stable.

Riding his chocobo at full gallop through the pounding rain, jumping at each flash of lighting, each clap of thunder, brought an odd feeling of nostalgia. The trees were a blur as they galloped through the forest, monsters crawling through the undergrowth, but unable to keep up as they raced by. The paths were unfamiliar, the landmarks Noctis normally would’ve used to keep track of where he was didn’t exist, but he held the reins tighter, knowing that so long as he kept going east, he would make it eventually.

A week ago, he was doing just this, with Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis as they struggled to complete Ramuh’s trial. A week didn’t feel like a lot of time, certainly not enough to change everything, but now…

Noctis still hated the empire with all his heart, that hadn’t changed. He wanted to reclaim his kingdom, free his people, and avenge his father. But, at the same time, could he tear the empire to shreds with Ardyn on the opposite side of the battlefield? He was assuming that they were one and the same—his lover and the Chancellor—but even if they weren’t, they still looked similar enough that it would make Noctis’ heart ache to see him again.

Either way, he was leaving an Ardyn behind, and returning to another. From a man who had cared for him and loved him, to a man who played with people like they were dolls, a means to an end. They were maybe the same, or maybe they were different, and the gods just liked messing with him and the rest of humanity. 

He didn’t know how he was going to handle any of these thoughts in the coming days, weeks, however long it took to finish his journey. For now, he would just have to do what he did best: ignore it, and hope that there would be enough distractions in his life that he could continue ignoring it for as long as possible.

Lost in his thoughts, he was almost flung off his chocobo’s back as it skid to a stop, rearing up and flapping its wings with a startled whistle. Noctis looked up, his cloak stuck to his skin from the rain, to see they’d reached the rocky walls raming Fociaugh Hollow, and he hastily steered his chocobo to the left, keeping close to the wall until he found the entrance.

He dismounted the chocobo, petting its head feathers and feeding it gyshal greens, taking the time to set up a small fire for it to rest by at the entrance so it could stay warm. Hopefully once the rain lightened, it would run back to Lestallum. If this hare-brained scheme didn’t work, maybe Noctis would join it by his little campfire and cry, or ride back with nothing to show for his efforts but a thoroughly soaked cloak and an exhausted chocobo.

With another pained pull at the Armiger, Noctis summoned his engine sword and flashlight, holding both at the ready for whatever might be inside. Crawling through the tunnels and stepping through cramped, barely-wide-enough gaps was familiarly unfamiliar, but thankfully, there were no daemons rotting in the deepest black of the cave system, just a few, unruly bats. 

The tunnel leading into the final room looked drastically different, the sparse plant life that had taken root underground thoroughly scorched, dead leaves littering the ground. The gap in the ceiling was larger, somehow, rainwater splashing on the ash and spreading it around the room, tainting it. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the runestone wasn’t there, a dying tree standing in its place, scorched like the rest of the plants around it. There was a gap in its trunk, about as wide as Noctis’ head, and he could see chunky, white crystals growing inside, slowly overtaking the bark. When Noctis approached, he could see a faint hint of violet energy sparking between the cracks, as if trying to pull him closer.

Noctis took a deep breath, letting his shoulders fall as he stepped closer. His boots splashed in the rainwater, becoming stained from the ash. He sent his flashlight and sword back to the aether as he raised his left hand, reaching out for the crystals. Thunder boomed overhead as a bolt of lighting struck the crystals dead on. The hairs rose on Noctis’ arms as static and magic swirled in the air, a centralized web of electricity forming and sparking within the tree, a beacon and a warning at the same time.

“I have to go back,” Noctis spoke aloud—perhaps as a reminder of his mission in his own time, perhaps to convince himself he was doing the right thing, even though his heart begged him to stay. The only answer he received was the continued patter of the rain, and the errant sparks of magic in front of him. “And this better be the way to do it, or I’m going to be mad.”

Another roll of thunder overhead, and Noctis suddenly remembered the way his father would laugh sometimes, when he was younger, and how it sounded somewhat similar. Noctis allowed a bitter smile to cross his lips before he took the final steps forward, his hand a hair’s breadth away from the runestone, little fingers of electricity reaching out and brushing against his palm, curling around his hand, his arm—

Something cold grabbed his right hand.

Noctis inhaled quickly as he spun around, raising his leg to kick, only to freeze as he saw Ardyn standing behind him. He was soaked, his hair pressed flat to his face, eyes wide and panicked as he gripped Noctis’ hand. Noctis tried to turn and face him fully, but his left arm stuck, magnetized by the electricity curling around his limb, reaching his shoulder now.

“I read your letter.” Ardyn said between pants, his free hand reaching up to Noctis’ face. An uncomfortable static sensation burned across Noctis’ skin as Ardyn cupped his cheek. “My love, what is…?”

“I’m sorry.” Noctis blurted out, leaning into Ardyn’s hand, the most he could move with his arm locked in place. “I just… I need to go home, Ardyn.”

“How is this going home?” Ardyn asked, looking up at the sky as he let go of Noctis’ hand, only to wrap his hand around Noctis’ waist, that uncomfortable static feeling increasing with the more contact points. “Fulgarian, I beg of you, do not take him away from me for his folly! Whatever offense he incurred, I shall take his punishment!”

“Ardyn, don’t—” Thunder roared overhead, another bolt of lightning striking the crystal. The electricity arcing between him and the crystal grew in intensity, wrapping around his chest and waist. The scar on his back burned like acid against his spine, and he let out a choked sound as it felt like each nerve was lit aflame. “Listen to me, this isn’t a punishment, this is what has to happen.”

“No.” Ardyn insisted, and Noctis could faintly feel, through the magic clogging the air and the sharp pain stabbing into his skin, a dark pulse from Ardyn’s chest. “This can’t be what’s meant to happen. I thought you’d given up, that you were going to stay. I thought last night you were agreeing to be with me until the fates intervened.”

“This is the fates intervening!” Noctis insisted, the violet bolts of lighting encasing all but his right arm and head, but it was still moving, the arcs coming closer together, growing brighter, and Noctis had to squint to keep looking at Ardyn. “If you read my letter, you know I have to go back! I need to help my people, Ardyn, can’t you understand that?”

Ardyn shook his head, going back to holding Noctis’ hand desperately, pleading at him, at the sky, at the god silently judging them. “Please, please don’t leave me. Let me be selfish, just this once. My little levinbolt, my evening star, my nightingale, please.”

Noctis opened his mouth to plead his case, only to choke on static and ozone. The electricity crawled up his neck and chin, wrapping around his body like an iron maiden. He could barely breathe, choking on supercharged air, the only parts of his body not encased was his head and the hand Ardyn was holding.

He’s gonna kill me. Noctis thought hysterically, feeling magic and electricity thrum in his bones, his body feeling like an overcharged battery, on the brink of exploding. If he keeps holding me, he’s going to kill me.

So Noctis did the only thing he could do—he flicked his wrist, and forced Ardyn to let go. Electricity encased his hand like a swarm of angry bees, buzzing and growing in intensity, his vision going white as it raced up his head, covering him entirely.

“No. No, no, nononono — ” Noctis heard Ardyn frantically whisper, his body jerking and allowed to jerk as he felt Ardyn’s arms wrap around his waist, not in a hug, but in a desperate hold. Thunder roared above them, constant, neverending, the energy entombing him forcing Ardyn away as the healer screamed to the skies. “Stop! Stop this, I beseech thee! Ramuh, Bahamut, Eos herself, please hear me and answer to my prayers!”

Let go, Noctis begged in his mind, somehow hoping that Ardyn would be able to hear his thoughts. Please, let go. Find some happiness in the here and now, not with me, not when I have to go. Please know I love you, I always will, no matter what happens in the future.

A final clap of thunder rang out above them, shaking Noctis down to his bones. Pain, bright and burning white, searing through his muscles, leaving nothing unscathed in the Astral’s wake, and Noctis faded to nothing.

Waking up felt like a bad repeat of that first night with Ardyn. His body felt like one horribly abused, overstimulated nerve. His bones vibrated with overflowing magic, making him feel like death warmed over. The air was charged, his black robe clinging to his body from the rainwater and residual static, and each tiny movement he made was agonizing. He couldn’t hear anyone nearby, and he had to assume he was alone, no one around to help him.

He forced himself to open his eyes, faint sunlight bleeding down through storm clouds. He could hear the distant patter of rainfall, feel it fall on his face from the opening above him. He was laying in the pool of water just before the runestone, the shallow, freezing water brushing just behind his ears. He had no clue if it his ‘plan’ had worked, other than Ramuh’s presence, and the sensation of being pulled apart atom by atom, nothing but raw energy as he was picked up and put somewhere else.

He wouldn’t know until he got out of this stupid cave. And to do that, he would have to stand up.

Gritting his teeth, Noctis slowly tensed his muscles, agony racing down his spine as he rolled onto his side. His fingers dug into the small patch of eroded dirt and moss surrounding the pond. He nearly screamed as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and he had to pause, to breathe, to try and focus on something that wasn’t pain.

He was overwhelmed by the sheer want for Ardyn and his cold, healing hands. How the rest of his body was like a furnace, exuding heat and keeping them warm under the inn’s blankets. His radiant smile as Noctis asked a simple question about the past, something so detached from his experiences in the future. He wanted—

“Ah, this brings back memories.”

Noctis’ breath hitched, and he slowly looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t see well, the light above him screwing with his vision in the dark, but he could make out his hat, the way his hair curled around his face, his lax stance as he sauntered further into the room. His long, black coat blended in with the darkness of the cave, and his amber eyes almost glowed in the darkness.

It worked. Ramuh had sent him back.

Funny, he thought he’d be happier to see Ardyn again. Or maybe it would have evoked that heavy hearted feeling he got whenever he looked at his phone’s photo library and saw an old picture of him and his dad together. Instead, all he could feel was a large block of lead sink in his stomach, and it took all of his power to not collapse right then and there as he stared at his lover.

“I…” Noctis tried to say, his body slowly coming back under his control. Getting torn apart into nothing but magic and energy by a god was, evidently, not something his body enjoyed. “Ardyn…”

“Now, Noctis, allow me to take the floor and speak my mind. After all, I’ve had two millennia to think about this.” Ardyn said, crouching on the floor. Noctis felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the pistol in Ardyn’s hand, but he didn’t summon his weapons, didn’t move, tried to keep his breathing calm.

“I’m sorry.” Noctis apologized for something that happened seconds ago for him, but so, so long ago for Ardyn. It should have been too late to mean anything, but Ardyn’s grip on the pistol tightened, and Noctis clicked his jaw shut.

“Do you want to know what kept me sane, waiting this long?” Ardyn started, spinning the chamber of his revolver, the clicking sound filling the cavern. Noctis swallowed around the lump in his throat, guilt and anxiety choking him into silence as the chancellor continued. “It was you. It was my memories of those long weeks we spent in Lestallum, the dinners we had, the nights we shared…” The nostalgic smile on Ardyn’s face fell into a painfully thin, flat line. “The letter you left, which shattered my world and my heart. About how I was so close to ripping you from Ramuh’s grasp and never letting you go, only to fail at the last possible second. How you didn’t even try to stay.”

“I had to, Ardyn. I had to.” Noctis pushed himself up and off his hands, sitting back on his haunches. He winced and managed to suppress a whimper, leaning forward to try and reach for Ardyn. “I couldn’t explain then, there was too much, and if I was wrong, telling you wouldn’t have done anything.”

“I know, my nightingale, I know.” Ardyn smiled, tilting his head down so that his hat hid his face. He met Noctis halfway and cupped his cheek. “But it tortured me for so long, never knowing if I would live to see you again. I wondered if you were even real, if They hadn’t decided to play with my mind.”

“Wh-what?” Noctis reached forward, feeling that Ardyn’s cheek was wet with tears. “No, no no, Ardyn, I was real, I wasn’t lying, I promise you. I-I didn’t tell you everything—I couldn’t— but everything we felt, everything I felt for you, it’s real, I swear on the Crystal, on Bahamut—”

Ardyn snarled, grabbing Noctis’ wrists and pushing him away. He lifted his head, and Noctis gasped as he saw something black dripping from his eyes, his skin pale and veiny and sickly, something so opposite of the Ardyn he had come to know. “Do not speak of that bastard god in my presence.”

“Ardyn…” Noctis whimpered, seeing that his hand was covered in the same black liquid—the scourge— and his heart sank. “Gods, Ardyn, I’m so…”

“Don’t.” Ardyn said, abruptly standing. He wiped at his face, the scourge pulling into his skin and leaving his usual, sun-kissed skin behind. If Noctis hadn’t seen it seconds prior, he would’ve never known it was there. “Just don’t, Noctis. What we had is long dead, and it’s not worth trying to revive it. Forget what you saw, lift your head, and walk tall, Chosen King.”

“Ardyn!” Noctis called out, reaching for the ends of his coat, but he blinked, and the chancellor, the healer, his lover was gone, and Noctis was left groveling on the cold stone floor, hands clenched into fists as he held back tears.

Dear Ardyn,

By the time you read this, I’ll be g

You can probably guess

I’m so

Fuck fuck shitty fuck damn why can’t i do this

I don’t know how to start this. I don’t know what to say. I’ve thrown away so many papers trying to put this down, hell I’ve already messed up this one too, but I need to tell you this.

You already know the basics: I’m from the future, I’ve been trying to find a way back, and things between us are. Complicated.

But it’s even more complicated than you know.

First off, I’ve already guessed a way to get back. I didn’t tell you because it’s a long-shot and I didn’t know if I could believe it myself. That and I’d have to explain why I think this could work

I wasn’t just looking around Fociaugh Hollow and just got screwed over like I told you. I went to the cave system in order to complete Ramuh’s trial and win his favor because, in my time, 2000 years in the future, I’m the Chosen King, in line for the throne. The throne that may or may not exist in your time, I don’t know, but… I’m the king of Lucis. Crazy, right?

Yeah, it isn’t, because that holds a lot of… implications for things. Things I’ve already thought about. Things I couldn’t say to you.

And I’m sorry. Astrals, I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve told you, I should’ve said everything, but I didn’t know if I could fully trust you, and then when I did, every time I got so choked up I couldn’t say a damn thing.

The Chosen King, believe it or not, is a big dumb coward when it comes to talking to people, believe it or not. Especially the ones he loves the most. 

If you’ve found this letter, well, I’ve gone off to test my theory. If not, you’ll probably find a significantly more charred body than when you first found me. Or maybe I’ve become a daemon snack. Or maybe it worked, and I’m back in my time, 2000 years in the future, 2000 years away from you.

What a fucking joke. I don’t know why Ramuh did this, and I’ll probably never know. The Astrals are all cryptic and speak in riddles n everything, y’know?

But, despite all this, I’ll never regret meeting you. Never regret getting to know you. Never regret loving you.

I’ll probably never know what happened to you. You’ll probably never know what happens to me. But I’m going to try and carry your hope for the future with me, and do what I need to do.

And, if I’m right about some other things…

Well, you’ll hear it from me when I get back.

I’m sorry, Ardyn.

I love you with all my heart,

Noctis Lucis Caelum, CXIV King of Lucis