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At first it was uncanny. The Citadel was normally free from any sorts of rumours, but the two latest additions to the staff definitely caused a ruckus.
Not that a pair of historians normally caused that kind of trouble. Historians were widely regarded as essential to figuring out the secrets of the long lost civilisation of Solheim, and Cor had to admit that if he had not made it into the Crownsguard at the age he had, he likely would have studied history. The reason people were talking was because those two dressed rather… peculiarly. Normally historians were dressed well but not outrageously colourfully, often practicality outweighed style because they were called to excavation sites a lot.
Perhaps what those two wore would be good in a thunderstorm. And even that only for about twenty minutes before they wound up completely and thoroughly soaked and weighed down by the wet cloth. Hells, the smaller one of the two wore more layers than the official robes of the council had. Those already were heavy and reserved for nobles only, and Cor thankfully enough was the son of commoners.
The other reason people started talking about the two historians was the fact that they were, more often than not, heard having conversations. Talking was not exactly forbidden, but the fact that the two of them were talking fluidly in long-dead languages remained.
Cor hated having to disperse a flock of Crownsguard and Glaives chatting with each other. He was far more forgiving than Drautos was, and the man was on his way here. Thankfully enough mentioning that the commander of the Kingsglaive was on his way was enough to send the Glaives jogging back to their posts.
It left him with the Crownsguard – three of the younger recruits and Monica. A stern frown was enough to send the recruits running, but Monica put her hands on her hips.
“Well, do we even know why the historians are here? If they are historians at all.”
She was observant.
Cor had those doubts himself, but all he did was shrug at her. There had to be a way to investigate these two, because he couldn’t deny that he was curious. Morbidly so.
“Clarus. If I may… the two...”
“Ah, I was looking for you regarding something about those two as well.”
“…?”
“Assign a member of the Crownsguard you trust to them. Just so they don’t get lost in the Citadel.”
He assigned himself, and quickly came to regret that decision.
The taller of the two, a man called Gilgamesh, was deathly quiet outside of the occasional quip in what sounded like ancient Sol. He barely spoke, he barely acknowledged Cor’s presence, and was all-around pleasant to be around. He was polite when he spoke, perhaps to hide the fact that he could easily match Clarus in sheer strength alone. Strange clothes and even stranger ancient name aside, Gilgamesh was definitely how Cor expected a historian to be.
Ardyn on the other hand…
After a day or so of awkward silence as he spent his time around the two, he was very quickly absorbed into the personal space of the other man. Too quickly. Whenever Ardyn wanted something he would sling his arm around Cor’s shoulders, and it made Cor involuntarily freeze. He was not used to his subjects being so… touchy-feely. Even King Regis respected everyone’s personal space, though it seemed like Clarus was the only one who he touched when it was not necessary. Long and close friendship, ruler and Shield.
What Ardyn did was… too friendly, definitely slightly creepy, and Cor cursed his own morbid curiosity.
It wasn’t until Prince Noctis’ birthday came and passed that he truly had to spend time with those two. King Regis had finally admitted that those two had been hired in an effort to learn about what had happened on the Galahdian battlefields.
Naturally a historian would ask about access to the library, and so Cor indulged the two of them.
Then he heard Gilgamesh say something – that was definitely old Sol.
[Ardyn, perhaps it would be wise to not… be so strange. He looks uncomfortable.]
The only thing Cor understood was the name, and thankfully enough whatever Gilgamesh had said made Ardyn take his arm off Cor’s shoulders.
[Man, aren’t you a killjoy. Weren’t you the one who helped with pushing the prince and the advisor closer together? Where’d that Gilgamesh go, and where can I get him back?]
[The boy looked like he needed a stern talking to. Well, not stern, but definitely a talk. Since you are so infallibly bad at that kind of talk, I decided to step in. But this one is not the same as that boy wearing glasses – you are definitely invading his personal space.]
[Kill. Joy.]
Ardyn rolled his eyes.
[Boring old killjoy.]
At the very least that meant that the rest of the way to the library would be without incident or further invasions of his personal space.
Cor thought.
After a minute Ardyn leaned in again. “I’m not bothering you, am I, Marshal?”
Cor was bothered. Immensely so. He had assigned himself this very unfortunate spot, and he was absolutely doomed to go through with it. He wasn’t exactly a teenager or a young adult who could change his mind on the go about something as inconveniencing as a man who didn’t know personal space. A man with an absolutely gorgeous face with no personal space, and what was even worse was the fact that Ardyn likely knew that he looked good for his age. Cor was about to break into cold sweat, and jumping out of a window to avoid this conversation sounded more pleasant than anything.
“I,” he choked out, “am not bothered.”
Ardyn nodded before turning back to Gilgamesh as they walked.
[See? No need to rain on my parade. Let me enjoy this – it’s not exactly often that I get to hang with someone handsome like that who doesn’t smell of two thousand years of mould and mice.]
[You are legitimately the worst and I regret being alive.]
[Bite me.]
This sounded more and more like a lover’s spat. Cor thanked the gods when he could finally almost run for the library door and unlock it.
[camera]: so tell me again whats that guys name
[camera]: greg? gregory?
[camera]: egregious?
[camera]: noct??
[camera]: noct pls answer ik youre at a business dinner w/ ignis but pls im dying here
After a while he got used to it. He got used to having Ardyn all but hang all over him at any given moment. He got used to not understanding anything Gilgamesh said because he only spoke ancient Sol – Cor had checked and asked someone who had studied history for a semester.
[Y’know, he’d look nicer if he smiled every once in a while.]
[Whatever you’re about to say, please don’t.]
[Do you reckon Cor would smile if I went ahead and fu--]
Gilgamesh leaned forwards to grab Ardyn by the collar. He yanked the other man away from Cor with a glare that you make the dead die again before pressing a hand on Ardyn’s mouth.
[Be quiet, rodent child.]
Ardyn wiggled around until he managed to get away from Gilgamesh and huffed. “I’m older than you.”
Cor blinked. “What… exactly are you two talking about?”
He would never forget the first time he heard Gilgamesh speak anything but ancient Sol. Ardyn was about to say something, but the man yanked Ardyn back by the collar once more and shoved him out of the way.
“Nothing in particular.” He had a strange accent as he spoke, but the voice was not by any means unpleasant. It sounded different than when he spoke old Sol, and Cor nodded.
“I see.”
A month or two passed.
It was Gilgamesh who almost casually brought up that he could teach Cor ancient Sol – well, as casual as a man who only spoke the bare minimum in the language he only called ‘Modern’ despite being surprisingly fluent in it could. They all but lived in the library nowadays, and Ardyn was out of immediate earshot.
“… A tempting offer, but do we really have time for that with you and him studying books not meant for the public eye?”
“It is not as hard as you believe it is. Modern Lucian’s roots lie in ancient Sol. Any modern language’s do. And I am a patient man.”
“Figures, since you hang with that disaster over there.”
An angry shriek of “I can hear you, you know!” sounded from behind a few bookshelves, and both Gilgamesh and Cor laughed.
After a few minuets of considering it and bringing the other man a book on agriculture from about three hundred years ago, Cor agreed to it.
HRH NLC: you still stuck with slime man and stoic mountain?
Leonis: Yes. Why?
HRH NLC: yeah uh iggy and I kinda need a lift.
HRH NLC: we uh.
HRH NLC: got a flat tire.
Leonis: You two are not in Insomnia, are you.
HRH NLC: galdin quay. Please don’t tell dad
Leonis: Sending Monica to pick you two and the car up.
Leonis: Can’t leave my post.
HRH NLC: tell ol’ slime man and stoic mountain that iggy and I say hi!
[Thank you for… you… you’re… your. Thank you for your… bells.]
Cor paused. “No, that was… not the word for time, was it?”
“That it was not. They are almost the same but your pronunciation was slightly off, thus turning time into bells.” Gilgamesh did not even look up from the book, though he was definitely smiling to himself.
[Time.]
The language was not as hard as Cor had first assumed. He mostly stuck with reading comprehension once he figured out the basics, but speaking it was definitely still hard. Since other than making sure everyone’s schedules were correct and he barely had anything to do while watching Gilgamesh and Ardyn, learning a new (old) language was not all that bad. He continued reading just as they did, until the afternoon at least.
That was when Gilgamesh moved to another part of the library, and Ardyn scooted to sit next to Cor. It only meant that the man was up to something, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw that Ardyn was wearing a wide grin.
Oh no.
“Well, you’re doing rather nicely Marshal. But you could definitely do with spicing it up a little.”
“Spicing… it up.”
“You’re all dry and proper! Throw in some curses. But Gilgamesh has a stick up his ass anyway. So, how about I teach you?”
Cor blinked. He thought that maybe his silence would get his point across to Ardyn, but naturally the man chose to ignore the very pointed signs. He was once again way too much in Cor’s personal space – and that was bad. That was how Ardyn always got exactly what he wanted. And though Cor knew the signs he eventually had to cave if he wanted his personal space back.
So he did. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Excellent! We’ll start right away. So Gilgamesh over there?” Ardyn snorted to himself.
[Fuckhands.]
That grin was unnerving. “Hands you should have recognised. But ‘fuck’ is where the fun beings.”
HRH NLC: uhm
HRH NLC: is there a chance you can.
HRH NLC: come over and not ask any questions.
Leonis: Your Highness. It’s four in the morning.
HRH NLC: yeah just.
HRH NLC: don’t ask okay but.
HRH NLC: code 8.9536
Leonis: …
Leonis: That’s the code for ‘pants on the roof, shirt also gone’.
HRH NLC: I said don’t ask but I beg you, help me
Leonis: Just you?
HRH NLC: … s iggy’s clothes
Leonis: Can’t you ask Ulric? He should be awake at this time.
HRH NLC: ABSOLUTELY NOT
HRH NLC: cor please
Leonis: Fine. On my way.
He had to admit two things.
One, speaking a dead language was extremely fun. He could say things no one except for two people understood, and there was something perversely amusing about calling his superior a “rotten fishhead” and being able to say that he was merely practising his pronunciation. Because “rotten fishhead” sounded a lot like the word for “calendar”.
Two, he was sincerely starting to enjoy hanging around Ardyn and Gilgamesh. Too much perhaps.
“And that’s why we were wondering if you couldn’t just… let them live with you.”
The temptation to call King Regis ‘king of fuckhands’ was almost unbearable, but Cor managed to retain his posture. He was a professional, the Marshal of the Crownsguard, not a five-year-old being allowed to say what his parents called a bad word for the first time by his babysitter. Damned Ardyn and his influence.
“… By all means, I can’t disagree with a royal order but… That might not work out as nicely as you and Clarus think, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, it’ll… work out just fine. You barely use your house anyway, and those two definitely need a place to stay.”
Ardyn and Gilgamesh had filled him in once his comprehension had gotten better. He knew the history, and he knew why King Regis was pinching the bridge of his nose in the study. That would be one nuisance related to him out of his immediate vicinity. People were starting to wonder why those two were still staying at the Citadel anyway, and the king needed to act. This seemed to be the only thing he could come up with. He had let the king know as much before this conversation.
“Perhaps if I may make a suggestion… I would like to make Gilgamesh part of the Crownsguard.”
King Regis sighed. “Go ahead, you have permission. We definitely will need to do something about their names. Ardyn Lucis Caelum and Gilgamesh are… well. First off, we cannot allow a third Lucis Caelum to run around unless he were to marry Noctis. Over my dead body, before you get any ideas. And Gilgamesh is completely outlandish – the lack of last name notwithstanding.”
They spent about an hour thinking about names, until at last they settled on something.
Cor Leonis’ new housemate was called Ardyn Izunia, historian and all-around eccentric asshole.
The newest Crownsguard recruit was… Greg Ferox.
[I swear I did try to convince him of something else, but…]
Cor sighed when he drove a bundle of seething nerves and a confused man to his house.
[Unfortunately there aren’t exactly many things we could call you. Izunia is a long dead first name and an exceedingly rare last name in Niflheim, also it works nicely with your name. We concluded that you two did not want to sound like a married couple, so the same name was out of question. As for Greg… my… my apologies, Gilgamesh.]
Ardyn continued seething, but all Gilgamesh did was compliment Cor on how well he had learned ancient Sol. Also…
[You wouldn’t have been too far off with the married couple reach. Though I do suppose Ardyn would rather be dead and buried than be called Ferox.]
[Watch it, Gregory the Grand!]
Ardyn immediately spat before shoving his hand into Gilgamesh’s face.
[You’d be supposed to be a loving husband, anything else would be going against the wishes of royalty and therefore punishable by death!]
“Ardyn,” Cor interjected quickly, “the death penalty has not been in effect for exactly one thousand six hundred and eighty-seven years. A signed law. Which, or so I was told, you were at the signing for.”
[You’re not being any better, attractive face all aside! This will have repercussions! Serious repercussions! I swear on my name – and that is not Izunia!]
[Careful, Cor, he’s going to tear down your curtains, spit in your drinks and will most definitely attempt to drink out of the toilet.]
[Gilgamesh, one more word out of your whore mouth and I’ll cut your tongue out and glue it to Cor’s forehead!]
This was going to be interesting.