Work Text:
This is what happens:
Noctis and his father go on a trip. Two months later, Tenebrae falls, and the king brings Noctis home- except that it’s not Noctis, it’s a boy with more tired eyes, with something burning in him like it’s going to eat him up, who smiles like it hurts and doesn’t know how to stop moving anymore.
-x-
“That’s enough.”
“No.” Noctis narrows his eyes, lifting his practice sword. “Again.”
“You need to rest.”
“I’m fine.”
Gladiolus shakes his head, turning away. “You’ve been training for four hours. We’re done.”
“Again!” Noctis’s voice is sharp and furious, knuckles white around his wooden sword. He looks angrier than Gladiolus has ever seen him.
“Your wounds are going to reopen - you need to rest.”
“I can’t!” Noctis is shaking with rage. “I have to get better!”
“You are getting better,” Gladiolus says, keeping his voice carefully even.
“I am not good enough,” Noctis bites out. Each word is like a knife. “You said you’d teach me!”
“I am teaching you.” Gladiolus reaches a hand towards him. “Noct, what’s wrong?”
Noctis glares at Gladiolus, eyes burning like pale blue flame. “Forget it,” he snaps, and storms away.
-x-
Two hours later, Ignis finds Gladiolus in the palace halls.
“Have you seen Noct? I haven’t seen him since he left to train with you.”
“I thought he went to find you.”
“He’s missing? ”
Gladiolus curses quietly. “Hiding, maybe.”
“Why would the prince-” Ignis starts, but Gladiolus is already running off.
-x-
Gladiolus finds Noctis in the park opposite the castle, a summoned sword in hand, warping between trees.
Noctis is panting, harsh and sharp, and he stumbles when he lands. Every slash of his sword is shaky and uncontrolled, and Gladiolus has been fighting for years. He knows the look of a person exhausted but still fighting, held together by willpower and determination.
Then Noctis staggers, and Gladiolus lunges to catch him before he falls, wrapping one arm around his chest. This close, Gladiolus can feel Noctis shaking, chest heaving with broken gasps.
“Noct,” he says.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“Let me go! I need to train!”
“You need to rest . You’re still recovering, take it easy-”
“Take it easy ?” Noctis starts to struggle, lashing out with bony elbows and trying to twist out of his grip. “ How , please tell, do I take it easy, when it’s my fault that we had to abandon Tenebrae? ” His voice is ragged with rage. “When I was so weak that the king had to abandon his people- tell me, how do I take it easy ?”
“Noct. Calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down ?”
“Yes.”
Noctis takes a breath, shuddering in his hold, the flash of rage receding like the sea before a flood. Gladiolus loosens his grip, stepping carefully away, and Noctis crumples to the ground.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Gladiolus says. Noctis doesn’t answer. “Noct.”
“It was.” His head is bowed, shoulders slumped. A kid shouldn’t look that tired, that lost.
Gladiolus sighs. “You won’t get any better if you don’t rest.”
“I know. I know! But I can’t- it’s not enough. I have to be better now .”
Gladiolus sits cross-legged beside Noctis, wrists on his knees, and looks up at the trees. The dim embers of the day’s fading light are filtering through the leaves. “No one blames you.”
“Ravus does. He sent a message, just now. He said that Tenebrae would never forgive us for our betrayal.”
That hits like a punch in the gut. Damn Tenebrae. “That asshole .”
“We did betray him, though.” Noctis’s voice is too calm for it not to be faked. “His mother died in front of him, and instead of fighting the soldiers in his home, we ran away. We left him and his little sister behind.”
“There was nothing you could do.”
“I saw father take out that daemon. He could’ve stopped them, if he wasn’t protecting me. I could’ve taken Luna and run.” Noctis clenches one hand into a shaking fist. It’s grimy with sweat and dirt - he must have fallen while practicing. “But I wasn’t strong enough.”
“It wasn’t-”
“I told Luna I wouldn’t let her down.” He makes a sound like a sob, snatched back like he’s afraid that someone will hear. His hair has fallen to hide his face. “I promised.”
Gladiolus isn’t good at words. He’s a fighter, nice and simple. He doesn’t know how to comfort people, not even his sister, who he loves more than life. Definitely not the prince, who he thought was selfish until he realised that the kid was crumpling beneath the weight of a kingdom he was learning to hold.
He reaches out and pats the kid’s shoulder in a pathetic attempt at comfort. “You won’t,” he says.
“I did .”
The hell do you say to that? “We’ll get her back. You haven’t failed her yet.”
Noctis makes a strangled noise that, in some other universe, could maybe pass for a laugh. Gladiolus sighs.
“C’mon. I’ll train you up, okay? Promise. Trust me.”
“It’s not enough.” I’m not enough , Gladiolus can almost hear, and it hurts . This much pressure on one scrawny kid.
He’s not much older than Iris. Way too young to have to deal with this shit.
“We’ll step up your training. But injuring yourself will set you back. Trust me. I’m the expert here.” Gladiolus nudges Noctis’s shoulder.
After a long moment, Noctis nods slowly, and unfolds.
It’s like watching a kid fixing a shirt crushed into a ball, ironing out the creases with small hands. Noctis picks himself off the floor, getting to his feet and swaying where he stands. His legs are shaking, smeared with dirt and sweat. He swipes at his eyes with the back of his wrist, and looks up - and for a second he looks crushed , looks young and hurt and scared; then he blinks a few times, takes a breath, and his face is wiped clean of expression, perfectly blank and calm.
He’s pale, though, and there are dark bags beneath his eyes. He still looks so damn tired, so damn young. When he takes a step, he stumbles, and Gladiolus catches him before he falls.
“Is your leg-”
“It’s fine.” Noctis pushes away, takes a step, and winces. His breath whimpers out of him and he inhales sharply, balling his hands into fists. “Let’s go.”
Gladiolus sighs, scooping him up and ignoring his protests. He’s tiny, all bony edges, light as air.
“I’ve got you,” Gladiolus says, and feels Noctis still. “I’ve got your back.”
Gladiolus feels the warm weight of Noctis’s head on his chest, and the prince (the boy) shuts his eyes.