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The training facilities at the Citadel were emptier this late in the day. On the far side of the gymnasium-sized room a couple of Kingsglaive agents tested their abilities. And failed in the attempt, if Iris were being honest. The janitorial staff cleaned the workout equipment throughout the room, focused on their task. Iris didn’t mind those few people, as this way she had the workout bench to herself. She was allowed to spread her school stuff wherever she wanted while she studied.
Iris was really here for Gladiolus and his student, Noctis, anyway. Alternatively, she could have taken the bus home or had Jared pick her up, but she liked hanging out on the days the prince was here. Sometimes the three of them would go out for ice cream afterwards or see a movie if Gladiolus was feeling lenient.
They seemed to be winding down from their training. Iris’ assignment was forgotten in her lap as she watched Gladiolus and Noctis execute their cool down exercises that signaled the end of their session. Even those moves looked deadly when conducted by the two of them.
The fighting used to concern her, what with the way Gladiolus and Noctis would go at it with no hesitation. Her concerns had worsened when they moved onto real weapons; the sort made of metal, sharpened to points, and sometimes possessed by deadly magic. As she watched, Iris had come to understand that it was a good thing, though. Gladiolus would never actually hurt the prince and it wasn’t as if Noctis could hurt her brother.
Plus, she’d learned it was a form of Gladiolus showing that he cared. Her brother wanted the people closest to him to be safe, even if he wasn’t physically there to take care of them. They’d been doing some practicing of their own in the family backyard, both Iris and Gladiolus learning how to coordinate together or separately. Iris had improved with using her bare fists the last couple of months.
Although the longer Iris watched them today, the more something felt…off. She squinted in their direction to try and decipher what it was. Gladiolus was in the middle of instructing Noctis, her brother’s words indecipherable from this distance. His arms were crossed, his hip cocked, and head tilted while he talked.
Like a sucker punch to the solar plexus, the realization hit Iris.
Living with Gladiolus gave her a lot of unfortunate insight to his social quirks. Iris had seen him laidback when being friendly, his stance canted to one side as he relaxed, or the preening he’d do when trying to flirt (ew!). Gladiolus had bragged once how flexing his arms in any way showed off his muscles, which ‘drove everyone crazy’ or some nonsense. But seeing both those habits in conjunction with the way he turned his head was new. Iris had never seen those three tells, at least not at once.
She slowly inclined her head to take in her brother’s focus. Noctis stood there listening with what might be half an ear. On anyone else, the expression could be described as bored, but with Noctis it was more attention than he paid to most people. Iris glanced between the two of them and took it all in.
Gladiolus motioned to Noctis’ form, correcting his stance and leading him where to hold his weapon. He moved closer, guiding the prince into the proper position. They were pressed back-to-chest, Noctis unflinching as he let himself be manipulated.
If Iris’ realization earlier resembled a thrown fist, this second one was more like being hit with a runaway car.
“Holy shit,” she breathed. The words weren’t quite soft enough because the staff member wiping down the free weights nearby gave her the most scandalized look, which Iris blatantly ignored. She was too wrapped up in the fact her brother and the prince were in love.
Later that night, after lights out, Iris laid in bed unsure what to do with the newfound information she’d gathered. Mostly because the discovery led her to more questions than answers. How long has this been going on? and Do either of them know? or Am I just imagining things? were the ones that wracked her brain the most.
Iris liked to assume she had a good grasp on reading people, chiefly her own flesh and blood. Not to mention Gladiolus had a pension for being transparent about his emotions. If he had a problem with someone he was upfront about it. Her brother was that way when he liked a person, too. So if he did want to be with Noctis, how come Gladiolus was holding back this time?
Noctis was a different case altogether. In some ways he was the polar opposite of her brother. Whereas Gladiolus was loud, dutiful, and open…the prince wasn’t. Could he just be acting shy? It’d taken Iris years to whittle past Noctis’ defenses and get to know him as an individual, so it wasn’t hard to deduce that if Noctis really did love her brother then he might not know how to process such feelings.
Huffing at the circle her wandering thoughts made, Iris tugged the covers under her chin and settled deeper into the mattress. She hoped the matter would be clearer in the morning after acquiring some sleep and clenched her eyes shut to will herself to do just that.
Except the next time Iris peeked open her right eye to the sunlight that spilled past her window she knew it to be a load of baloney.
Iris was no closer to a hypothesis than she was last night. She wasn’t even sure what, if anything, she intended to accomplish. It was with a sour mood that she shoved her blankets aside and got ready for school. By the time she made her way down the stairs to the dining room for breakfast Iris had resigned herself to a frustrating day.
Her sleep-deprived state could be blamed for Iris almost missing the fact her father was there, reading the early edition of the Insomnia Gazette while sipping his coffee. Iris’ demeanor brightened instantly at finding him home. Clarus paused in his perusal of the paper to return Iris’ enthusiastic 'good morning’; he leaned over so she could peck him on the cheek before taking her seat at the table.
Gladiolus was also present, most likely having gone for a jog or completed one-thousand warm-ups of something by now. Her brother looked freshly showered and was partially dressed in his Crownsguard uniform. Gladiolus watched her, expectant. When Iris said nothing he asked, “Don’t I get a greeting?”
“What for? You’re always here getting on my nerves,” Iris said. And then, for reasons she couldn’t fathom, an idea formed that ended their traditional wake-up exchange as she turned toward the head of the table. “Actually, I’m super glad you’re here, dad. I’ve been meaning to ask you – what did you do when you knew mom was The One?”
Jared entered with a cart of fresh food, setting dishes in front of her dad first, followed by Gladiolus, and lastly her. In all his long years of flawless service, Jared had never missed a step in his duties. But he almost dropped Iris’ plate of food in her lap when she posed the question. He recovered and politely excused himself
Across from her Gladiolus stopped mid-chew, some melon remaining stuffed in his cheek. He may have speared his assorted fruit a little too hard on the next pass as the fork scraped the bowl with the force of it.
Iris didn’t take back her question and intently watched as her father wiped his mouth clean with a napkin. His expression was encouraging as it appeared thoughtful as opposed to whatever the rest of the room assumed Clarus would be. That was the difference between them; where the two siblings tended to run hotheaded, their father was only strict when called for, rather than quick to act.
After musing a bit, her father confessed, “As I recall she courted me, not the other way around. Your mother was convinced I would be her husband, thus she made it so.”
“What,” Gladiolus said, deadpan.
“Really?” Iris asked over him. Her hands gripped the edge of the table in her excitement. “I mean, for real?”
Clarus nodded slowly, a far off look in his eyes, but he was smirking somewhat. “Indeed. I was not concerned with marriage in a time when I was escorting and protecting King Regis across Lucis and parts of Accordo. I assumed an arrangement would one day be made with someone of the Court, but your mother was…persistent.”
This was possibly the most Iris had ever learned about their mother, at least from their father, whom seldom broached the subject. Iris hadn’t pondered why, respecting his privacy, but no one had explicitly stated it was taboo, either.
“She was only a low ranking officer, but that did not stop her from proving her worth. Her time in the military was not long when she challenged me for my hand. In full view of her superiors and our liege, might I add,” their father explained.
“Did she win?” Iris persisted.
“It was a draw. I permitted her an opportunity to woo me in place of an outright proposal.”
“And how’d that go?” Gladiolus asked. Iris was pleased to know she wasn’t the only one curious about this first telling of their parents meeting.
Clarus raised a brow, it inching dangerously high. “You both are here, are you not?”
That was the end of that, but Iris wasn’t disappointed. It’d given her a vision of their mother that she hadn’t entertained in a long while. Sure some of her pictures hung in the Amicitia household, although more of her honors were tacked on the walls or were showcased throughout the rooms on mantels. Their proud chin, Iris’ cheekbones and Gladiolus’ nose were all hers, but such features didn’t tell Iris who her mother was as a person.
Iris had been too young to remember her when she was killed in the line of duty, not like her brother. When Iris was old enough to question their mother’s absence, Clarus confessed that mortality was the only fight their mother had ever lost. Iris found comfort in the notion that she’d not left their family willingly, that she’d given her all until the very end. Combined with the newest batch of insight, of someone who wouldn’t be stopped in the name of love, doubled the appreciation Iris had for the woman that had brought her into this world.
If anything could be taken away from her father’s story, it was that boys are inherently oblivious and stupid. Should there be any hope for Gladiolus, and in turn Noctis, to be happy then it would take something greater than the sum of them both to resolve the situation. Her brother was being too stubborn for whatever reason, otherwise they’d be together already. So as his family, it was up to Iris to move matters along.
Not that she was above asking for help. Their father had spoken about 'courting’, which sounded like the proper thing to do. The issue was she didn’t know the first thing about it, but there was one person who might.
Iris knocked on Ignis’ office door. The sound her knuckles made on the wood echoed in the sparse corridor. She’d raced here right after school instead of going to the training grounds in the hopes of catching Ignis before he was called to serve with the Council or run errands.
The other boy hung out with Noctis enough that their paths had crossed before. Ignis tended to hang back during gatherings, but not wanting him to feel left out Iris would often strike up a conversation with him. He didn’t always entertain her, but he was a good listener. Noctis even went to him for help, so she figured if nothing else Ignis could assist her, too.
He’s cool enough to have his own workplace at the Citadel, even though he doesn’t look much older than her brother. At Ignis’ summons, Iris struggled to open the heavy door by the handle. The office turned out to be smaller than her dad’s, but still impressive. There were tons more bookcases, all of them built into three of the four sides. Ignis sat at a desk in the center of the room with only one guest chair, as there wasn’t space for anything else.
As he glanced up from his task Ignis did a double-take. He leapt to his feet, both hands flat on the desk. The octaves in his tone changed from the authoritative way he’d granted her entrance to that of mild concern. “Miss Iris, I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything all right?”
She giggled, though Iris felt a little bad afterwards. Ignis was always so formal, even when she wasn’t sure it was warranted. But that’s just how he is. With anyone else it’d be snobbish and off-putting, except whenever they talked Iris felt like such a grownup. It was nice to be treated equally as opposed to the way some of the other members of the Citadel dismissed her.
“Yes, silly! I need to ask you something, though. Is right now okay?”
“Of course. Come in.” Ignis left his seat to close the door after her and then proceeded to pull out her chair. It was large and tall, Iris’ toes unable to reach the ground so Ignis leant her a hand to grab on to. Once they were both settled he asked, “How may I be of assistance to you today?”
“I wanna know about courting,” Iris blurted, right to the point.
Ignis watched her, and she watched him back. Finally he said, “I see” in a way that made it sound like he actually didn’t. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Oh. You know,” she said, feigning her expectations. Iris waved her wrist in the air as if encompassing everything. “The…the specific measures. And stuff.”
“Well, there is the traditional letter of intent,” Ignis started. Courteously, he explained before she had to ask for clarification, “More commonly: a love note. It could be something simple, such as an invitation or expression of one’s feelings, or as involved as a sonnet.”
Never happening, Iris thought. Her brother was well read, yet the thought of him writing poetry or anything remotely mushy was laughable. Cringing, she asked, “Um, what else?”
Looking a little suspicious now, Ignis started to ask what might have been 'aren’t you too young to be worrying about this sort of thing?’ which Iris knew he better not be. Her Amicitia-brand glare put an end to that. Wisely, he instead asked, “Miss Iris, might I inquire what you intend to do with this information?”
“I need it for really important research. Of the utmost importance. Because it’s important,” Iris emphasized.
“Should I be concerned?”
Iris mimicked his posture, leaning forward on his polished desk and steepling her fingers together. She stared him dead in the eye as she asked, “Do you think there’s a reason to be concerned?”
He muttered something that might have been 'gods help her intended’ but Iris couldn’t be sure. In one fluid motion, he rose to his feet and walked over to one of his shelves, retrieving a section of three books. They varied in thickness and height. Ignis returned to her side and grabbed a fancy fountain pen next, jotting down what turned out to be page numbers.
With the thick sheaf of paper on top, he handed the bundle of books to her. “I believe you’ll find these most insightful in your endeavor. Please take care to—”
Iris cut off his instructions to nab the materials, tucking them under one arm so she could hug Ignis in gratitude. She only came up to his waist, but what she lacked in stature she made up in gusto. Maybe too much gusto because Iris almost bowled him over, the oof he let out sounding breathless.
“Thanks, Iggy! I’ll bring them right back, I promise.” She ran to the door, but remembered to give him a wave farewell. Ignis looked mildly bewildered, which might be because his glasses were askew. Iris was polite enough not to mention it on her way out.
Courting, it turned out, was waaay complicated.
Iris spread the books Ignis gave her out on her bed to peruse them better, each one open to a different passage. The pages Ignis had indicated to her were filled with flower shaped sticky notes and tags as she tried to make sense of all the do’s and don'ts that were outlined in each. Some of the texts contradicted one another, so wading through the directions got confusing, fast.
She’d skipped everything to do with sappy correspondences and gotten lost somewhere in the realm of endowments. It sounded a lot like gift giving, an action that might have worked if either Gladiolus or Noctis were the type. Iris had still entertained the idea.
She caught the prince using a journal once, but it was to jot down a quick aside and tuck a sheet of stickers between the pages for safekeeping. It got Iris wondering if Noctis liked collecting them. Maybe she could give Gladiolus some from her own collection to present to Noctis (or do it on her brother’s behalf? was her written memo). Ultimately, Iris dismissed the notion, as gifts should be personal and not a hand-me-down.
Humming in discontent, Iris skipped ahead several chapters in the book she’d placed in her lap. The heading talked about engagements and parental approval and blah, blah, blah. Figuring she’d skipped too far ahead, Iris flipped the pages with her thumb for anything that caught her eye. A picture of a gentleman escorting a lady to a party filled a whole spread, giving her pause.
Now that was an inspiration. Gladiolus was social by nature and active besides, whereas Noctis was always lamenting how he was stuck behind secured doors ninety-percent of the time. A 'public outing together’, or a date she supplied for herself, was plausible. And if Iris chaperoned, that sort of counted in the traditional sense.
Feeling giddy at the prospect, Iris reached for her phone where she’d set it on her nightstand to charge. She quickly scanned the web for any upcoming events across the city. Grand openings, snooze, new restaurants, yawn, fundraisers, extra boring… These were all things Noctis was more often than not forced to attend and she couldn’t see Gladiolus being fond of the uptight atmosphere, either. Iris certainly wouldn’t enjoy going and she shared similar enough opinions with her brother about these kinds of things for her to know.
Frustrated again, Iris switched to a different tactic and searched for notorious hangouts or popular pastimes. There were multiple news articles, blogs, and fansites she clicked on before divine intervention kicked in. She stumbled upon a blurb no bigger than a paragraph for an indie band holding their first gig at a club on the South end of Insomnia. The venue was small, the music genre was rock, and they were scheduled tonight.
It was perfect.
Operation Setup is go, Iris thought, opening her messaging app. The easiest target would be Noctis, Iris knew as she tapped the keys.
I: Hey Noct, you still up?
N: yea, why?
I: I just got wind my favorite band is playing at the Gold Saucer tonight. You wanna come with?
N: sure. i’ll see if prompto can come too
Iris paled, her thumbs beating a hasty reply. Any friend of Noctis’ was probably nice, but the idea behind a date night was the date part, which is hard to do when other people are interfering.
I: Are you sure? It’s awfully late and happening in two hours…
N: o i guess
What does that even mean? Iris screamed in her own head. She decided it didn’t matter and went all in, sweetening the deal. If nothing else, this would prove her point if he agreed.
I: Are you in or out? Gladdy is taking me and wants to know if you’re joining us or not.
Which wasn’t a lie – Iris just hadn’t enacted that part of the plan yet. Besides, five seconds later Noctis confirmed he’d go. Feeling vindicated at the more definitive response, she texted Noctis all the necessary information for where to meet up and links to the event.
Then she shut off her phone, sucked in a deep breath, and shouted, “Gladdy! Gladdy, Gladdy, Gladdy!”
Iris jumped out of bed and ran to the stairs, thumping down each step and reciting her brother’s nickname. Even before he responded she knew where to find him: lounging on the sofa reading one thing or another. Sure enough, Iris could just identify the spikes of hair on top of his head past the armrest.
“What-y, what-y, wha— mmph!” Gladiolus groaned as Iris swan-dived on top of him. He lowered his magazine a fraction to peer over the pages, finding them eye-to-eye. Wordlessly, he raised an eyebrow at her.
Chin overtop both her hands, she asked, “Guess what?” Without giving him the chance to contribute, Iris continued with, “Noct just texted an invite to see this new rock group that’s playing at the Gold Saucer—”
“Wait, isn’t that in the lower district?” Gladiolus interrupted, his brows now furrowed instead. “What kind of band did he find there?”
The only one going on last minute, was the truthful answer, but again, Iris omitting a few things here or there wouldn’t hurt anyone. Iris brought out her biggest, surefire weapon early: her eyes widened imploringly and she stuck out her bottom lip. Voice desperate, she said, “One that sounds super cool! Can we please, pretty please go? Noct really has his heart set on this and I know I’d feel much safer if you were with us like…like our bodyguard!”
Gladiolus groaned again and rubbed his face a couple times, but from underneath his palm he gave his word of consent.
Iris bounced on the balls of her shoes as she stood next to her brother on the subway platform, waiting on the train to arrive. She’d worried that they’d run late after she insisted that Gladiolus change into something appropriate for the occasion. Her brother was just going to keep the grungy sweats he’d been wearing earlier, but Iris ordered him to pick something else. It took three attempts and raiding the deep recesses of his closet to find something that wasn’t workout clothes.
She convinced him to wear a black t-shirt – although he complained it was old and didn’t fit right anymore, it was too tight on him. However, Iris had lost the battle with his pants. They were a simple pair of black cargos with an excessive amount of pockets (too many for any one person, honestly). Coupled with his combat boots he did make for an intimidating figure Iris supposed, which okay, she did ask him to be there as a 'bodyguard’ so at least he fit the theme.
To her relief, when she finished dragging Gladiolus off the train, Noctis hadn’t arrived yet. Iris’ watch alerted her to the other encroaching issue, that of the concert starting soon. She worried her lip as she watched the overhead ticker for their friend’s arrival.
“See? I told you we’d get here before him,” Gladiolus said, running a hand through his hair. Iris wanted to slap it away before he ruined all her hard work. After graduating from the academy and earning rank Gladiolus had started growing it out, which wouldn’t be a problem if he remembered to take care of it for a change. She’d used some of her hairspray to style it just right and he was imminently going to undo everything.
Sensing her displeasure, Gladiolus glanced down and gave her the same assessing look he’d provided at home. Her brother had questioned her fretting and Iris had evaded; he luckily hadn’t pushed too hard. Gladiolus seemed ready to broach the subject again and not wanting to risk exposure she snapped, “Whatever. If I hadn’t worried? Then he definitely would’ve been here.”
An automated, female announcer came over the P.A. system, marking the arrival of Noctis’ subway car. Iris sighed deeply in relief. “Finally.”
The prince stepped off after a crowd of other people. Iris almost missed him because she’d only ever seen him in his school uniform, training gear, or some kind of expensive, elite Citadel wear. Tonight he’d donned a pair of jeans and a dark sports jacket with a behemoth stitched on the back, making him nigh unrecognizable.
“Wow, you look really cool!” Iris complimented him. Noctis stopped short of them, looking kind of lost with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. She jabbed her elbow into Gladiolus’ hip when he just dumbly stood there, staring. “Doesn’t he, Gladdy?”
“Uh. Sure?”
Hopeless, Iris thought, rolling her eyes. They needed to move along, so she impatiently hopped up and down. “Can we hurry up now? The show is about to start and we still need to get in!”
The club was within walking distance of the station, thankfully. There also wasn’t any kind of line to get in nor was there an admission fee. Iris did need to receive a paper bracelet on her wrist due to her being underage for drinking, but it didn’t hold them up long.
Inside was a different story. Every stool at the bar was packed and most of the tables had a least four or more people surrounding it. Iris wasn’t the youngest person in attendance, as other individuals sported the same wristband as her, but the mix of people seemed closer to her brother’s age.
Gladiolus spotted a booth to the far side that was still open and they made a grab for it. The seating was curved to allow more room for patrons and the table placed in the center. Iris directed Noctis in first and instructed her brother to go next. Gladiolus was giving her another critical stare at the behavior until she explained, “I’m gonna grab us some food and drinks before the show starts, okay?”
“I brought some extra cash,” Noctis offered, reaching inside his jacket pocket for some money. Iris thanked him and rushed off, leaving the two of them to enjoy some time alone. For that reason she didn’t hurry their order, making a show of reading every line on the menu before deciding on some finger food. She got a soda for herself and 'whatever was on tap’ because that’s what a bunch of other people at the bar ordered. Those had to be sent to the table by a server, but the rest Iris was able to gather herself.
To her disappointment, the conversation Noctis and Gladiolus were sharing in her absence sounded dull. They seemed to be debating the effectiveness of certain fishing lures, of all things. She slammed the tray down a little harder than she’d intended, garnering their attention. “Sorry that took so long! They were kind of backed up, so I hope you don’t mind that I got something quick and easy. Pretzel sticks, anyone?”
She siddled onto the seat on Noctis’ other side, boxing him in and urging him closer to her brother. Gladiolus accepted Iris’ offer to stuff his face, while Noctis held his drink in both hands like a lifeline. Iris tried not to sulk as it became apparent that she’d have to be in charge of the conversation or it was going to turn into a long, long night.
The band came on stage, saving Iris from having to dig up topics they all might have shared. Their instruments must have been tuned before the club was open because the lead singers got right to introductions and started the show. To Iris’ relief they were pretty decent. The music wasn’t too slow and the vocals are a sister duo with complimenting voices. A lot of other people got into the music, some of them forming a sort of mosh pit in front of the performance.
“Hey Noct, do you want to dance?” Iris asked suddenly.
“Um,” he said.
“Yeah, why don’t you give it a try? Iris won’t steer you wrong,” Gladiolus encouraged. “It’s not much harder than sword fighting if you think about it.”
She kneeled on her seat, elated that her brother was the one that was into it. Having him on board was part of the battle, afterall. “Yeah! Gladdy might not look it, but he’s got a few moves that’d surprise you, too.”
“Wait, what?” her brother asked.
Noctis looked between the two of them. Since Iris hadn’t received a blatant refusal, she nagged them until they approached the dance floor.
It was, to put it as politely as possible, embarrassing how astonishingly bad the prince’s coordination was.
Once Gladiolus got over his laughter at the spectacle (mostly with excessive chiding on Iris’ part), her brother managed to instruct Noctis on his footwork. Iris stood beside Noctis and demonstrated how it was done. Together, they made something work.
By the show’s end Iris was confident that the 'date’ was a success, if not moving forward at the very least. Noctis had loosened up the more they danced (or drank, whichever) and was smiling some. Gladiolus was laughing and joking, though Iris didn’t even mind when he called it quits, urging them toward the door after the band wrapped up their final duet.
She talked excitedly to them both up until an older man bumped into Noctis. The stranger smelled somewhat of alcohol, but they were stationed close to the bar, so it was unclear if he was drunk. Nobody would have thought anything of the incident if that were simply the case, but the man’s glare intensified as it focused on the prince. Noctis glared back.
Gladiolus vied for the man’s attention instead, ordering him to move along. His tone had Iris looking up at him in concern and she noticed how tense Gladiolus had become. Without meaning to she grabbed Noctis’ jacket sleeve. Not wanting a confrontation, Iris murmured, “Come on, let’s just go home” but everything that followed happened so fast.
The stranger grabbed his beer bottle and smashed it on the bar top. He shouted at Noctis, she didn’t understand what, and then Gladiolus was between them. People around the scene took notice of the violence and panicked. Someone screamed. It turned out to be Iris.
Her brother’s face was covered in blood, along with the arm he’d raised to block the attack. The broken bottle had sliced Gladiolus wide open. Gladiolus’ other fist had cracked knuckles, maybe from punching the guy? Iris couldn’t even spot the culprit anymore. If her brother had coldcocked him, afterwards he’d disappeared somewhere into the crowd of onlookers.
“Did any of the glass hit you? Are you guys okay?” Gladiolus asked.
Iris was too deep in her shock to say anything. Noctis was the one who replied, “Dude, are you kidding me? You’re the one bleeding!”
Gladiolus examined his arm with his good eye – his good eye, Iris almost threw up at the thought – and then inspected both Noctis and Iris himself. People whispered and gave their group a wide berth, and once Gladiolus took stock of that fact he said, “If you’re able to move then we’re leaving.”
Outside and across the street was a neon sign announcing a twenty-four-seven clinic.
In any other situation it might be funny that such a place existed so close to the club, but no one was in a joking mood. The minute Gladiolus stepped foot inside the receptionist behind the glass shot out of her chair, calling for a nurse in the same breath she used to shepherd Gladiolus toward the back of the facility. Her brother hesitated at the door, refusing to budge as he looked at her, but Iris didn’t know why Gladiolus would be worried about his sibling’s safety when he was the one sliced to ribbons.
“We’re fine. We’ll wait here,” Noctis reassured Gladiolus, and that was all her brother needed to be led away and treated.
That was four hours ago.
They’d both taken a seat in their respective, dingy plastic chairs. Iris hadn’t let go of Noctis’ jacket sleeve in all that time. Noctis was kind enough not to mention the fact or request Iris to let go. He alternated between watching the door, the empty glass screen, his phone – completely restless. Iris just stared down at the floor, feeling numb.
This wasn’t how she’d wanted their date to go at all. When Iris had invited her brother along as their ‘bodyguard’ she hadn’t meant it literally. The idea of knights who defended princes and princesses in stories sounded neat, but in actuality was super terrifying. Now Iris understood why her father hesitated to recount his efforts in the war if they were all worse than this.
The physician on duty exited the swinging door with a clipboard, causing Noctis and Iris to startle out of their seats and demand answers.
“How is he?” Noctis asked.
Iris’ lower lip trembled as she asked, “Will Gladdy ever see again?”
“Relax you two. You’re acting like I’m dying or something,” Gladiolus answered for the head nurse, stepping into view. They’d wrapped his arm in several layers of gauze. As for his face, there were a couple stitches, maybe four in total, which seemed…less than Iris was expecting considering all the blood. There were more butterfly bandages than anything else holding the cut closed. Her brother’s skin was blotchy and swollen, but both of Gladiolus’ eyes were open and shining.
Iris might have cried.
Gladiolus was given instructions on how to care for the different lacerations, but it was suggested that Gladiolus visit his preferred doctor for his follow-ups. The nurse also prescribed some pain medication. She looked pointedly at Iris and Noctis while giving clear warnings that Gladiolus was to take the medicine as prescribed and not overexert himself until it could be determined whether or not there was detrimental damage to his eye. Once they both promised that they’d look after Gladiolus the group was permitted to leave, to her brother’s obvious bemusement.
Out on the street, Iris glanced up at Gladiolus and tentatively asked, “Do we tell…dad about this?”
He thought about it, but Gladiolus shook his head. For the first instance after the assault he looked tired. Gladiolus said, “It can wait until morning; we’ve all had a long night. Let’s just get everyone home.”
Noctis stood close to Gladiolus while her brother used his cell phone to call for a taxi. It’d be faster and more reliable than the subway, and it was agreed that everyone could use the assurance. Iris let go of Noctis’ sleeve, forgetting she even had it in her grip, as she got into the cab.
The ride to the prince’s apartment was quiet. After dropping Noctis off first and waiting to make sure he made it inside safely, the two siblings headed right for the Amicitia residence. It was one in the morning when Iris and Gladiolus entered the back door of their house.
Jared had left the dimmer lights on for them, but she was grateful that he hadn’t waited up. He’d no doubt counted on Gladiolus to get them home safely. Which he did, sort of, so Iris was glad all the same that they didn’t have to explain her brother’s beaten face or arm this late.
In the secure confines of the kitchen Iris felt herself relax; her shoulders slumped as she shuffled to the breakfast counter. She dumped her purse on the countertop and claimed one of the barstools. Using both heels of her hands to support her chin, Iris let her eyes slide shut. She was exhausted, probably coming down from the high generated by her anxiety, but too tense to fully go to sleep.
Gladiolus must have felt the same because he raided the fridge at her back. He retrieved two orange sports drinks and an armful of pudding cups, setting one of each in front of her and keeping the rest for himself. Iris passed him a spoon and a straw after his failed attempt at drinking directly from the bottle with a numbed face.
As her brother scarfed down his fourth chocolate pudding, Iris idly picked at hers. The effort seemed pointless with how shaky her hands were, and not just from the stress. All she’d eaten yesterday was a sandwich for dinner and whatever bar food she’d ordered. Iris still found it difficult to eat, her stomach sickened by the sight of all that blood earlier.
“Finish your drink at least. The nutrients will help balance everything and you can pretend you filled your stomach,” Gladiolus advised, taking a deep pull from his own.
Iris didn’t argue for once. The taste of Albinorange, which was just a fancy name for orange-flavored and an excuse to tack a giant reptile on the label, wasn’t too nauseating. When she’d consumed two-thirds of the container her hands were steady. She felt up to using words again and apologized. “I’m sorry the concert was a flop.”
“Not your fault,” he mumbled. Gladiolus stacked another pudding cup inside the other seven he’d already finished. “Nobody could’ve known some drunk was going to fly off his rocker.”
“I guess, but what I meant was I wished you and Noct had fun. And this was anything but fun.”
Gladiolus stopped mid-bite. Slowly, he slid his spoon clean out of his mouth and stared at her as he asked, “…What are you talking about? Didn’t you want me to chaperone the two of you?”
“Er. Kinda. That is,” Iris floundered, her response too quick to be anything but a coverup. Her overtaxed brain must have let something slip since her brother’s stare bored into her, the look making her realize he was piecing things together at an alarming rate. Busted, she admitted seconds before realization writ itself all over Gladiolus’ face.
'Realization’ on him resembled panic.
“Sis, you do like Noct, right?” At the lack of a reply he reiterated, “I thought you wanted to be with him!”
Oh, that explains all the times he tried to shove Noct and me together, she mused. The idea that Gladiolus was willing to put aside his own feelings for hers paled in comparison to the idea of her dating the prince. Iris’ nose scrunched up at the appalling mental image. “What? Gross! He’s always fishing, ever since you took him on survival training! I bet his kisses taste like trout or something. He’s totally more your type.”
“Don’t say things like that,” he moaned. Gladiolus appeared pained, an interesting turn of events considering hours ago he’d barely flinched at being filleted.
“Why?” she asked simply. “It’s not a big deal. I support you.”
“Look, that doesn't— It’s not that simple.” Gladiolus took a deep breath to re-center himself. He set down his eating utensil and pudding cup to cross both arms across his chest. “I’m his Shield, the one sworn to protect him. Just forget about all this.”
“So what?” Iris persisted, nonplussed. “You’ll be at his side all the time, anyway! I think it’ll be great having another big brother around.”
Gladiolus switched to another tactic. “If I tell him and Noct doesn’t share my feelings, then what? He deserves a guardian that’s focused, that he can trust, and not to be put in a position to second guess the intentions of the ones closest to him.”
“Noct deserves to know,” Iris said, beginning to grow irritated right alongside him. Gladiolus shook his head, but before he could refute her claims she snapped, “Mom never gave up on love. She wouldn't—”
“Don’t.” Gladiolus’ expression fell and closed off. It was the first time Iris had been shut down like that; it’d been directed at other people, but never her. The sight wasn’t scary, so much as disheartening. “Don’t you ever bring our mother into this. You didn’t know her, you don’t even remember her, so don’t pretend like you’d understand!”
“You’re such a coward.”
Her words rang in the air like a slap to the face. Gladiolus certainly reared back in his seat like he’d been struck a second time that night. Iris pushed away from the countertop and slid out of her barstool. She ignored his calls to stop as she fled the kitchen. She rushed up the stairs, wiping her arm across her eyes so the tears wouldn’t make her trip. When she reached her bedroom, Iris slammed the door and sat down in front of it to prevent anyone from gaining entrance.
Gladiolus’ steps thundered after her and he pounded on the door, requesting entrance, and then he commanded to be let in at the lack of a reply. Eventually there came other voices outside her room, though she couldn’t hear whose. After a lengthy exchange her brother and whoever else was there left Iris alone. That’s when she allowed herself to cry in earnest.
Iris avoided her brother for days.
She skipped out on meals to head right to school. Iris grabbed her lunch box from Jared, thanking him each time, and refused to acknowledge her brother on the way out. Once class was finished she shunned the training grounds, but Iris didn’t want to risk running into her brother at the house, either. There were only so many excuses to hang out with her friends without bothering them, thus she hid elsewhere on the Citadel grounds.
A small cusp of trees not far from the capitol building provided enough cover for privacy and shade. Iris sat curled into one of the old tree trunks, knees huddled to her chest and arms stretched in front of her as she played games or texted on her phone. That’s where Noctis found her.
Of course Noctis would find her; he was notoriously good at it, starting when they were years younger. This place was familiar to the both of them as it’s where they officially met. As a child, Iris hadn’t intended to wander so far into the royalty’s private park and become lost, but the prince was there when she needed him. Like then his shoes crunched on fallen leaves and twigs, announcing his presence. He stopped a short distance from her.
“Mind if I sit?” Noctis asked after a drawn out moment. Iris shrugged, not pausing from her endeavor. He joined her on the ground, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent into his chest. The quiet lasted as she didn’t deign to break it for once.
Hesitantly, Noctis said, “I missed you at practice.” When her mouth tightened, he elaborated, “Gladio, too. He cancelled our session together.” That announcement made her fingers stall on the phone screen, but she resumed a minute later.
Noctis sighed and let his head drop against the bark of the tree, staring up into the canopy. To her surprise he said, “Not that I’m really upset. I’m over that thing Gladio does where he thinks he’s always right and knows it. Since his arm is still busted he’s just watched and criticized everything I do.”
“UuuUUUGH!” Iris dropped her phone into the dirt to free up her hands. She raised them into the air, fingers curled in indignation. “I know! It’s so annoying.”
“Yep,” Noctis said.
“Why does he have to be so pigheaded about it, too, like his word is law? Who put him in charge, huh? Just because he was born first doesn’t make him the boss of everything!” she ranted.
“Mmhm.”
“And another thing – how come he eats his noodles like he does? He slurps them so loud I can hear him upstairs. It grates on my nerves!”
“The loudest,” Noctis agreed. There was a short pause. “But we love him anyway, right?”
“But we love him anyway,” Iris concluded, her tone defeated. She deflated and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. The words they just shared registered to her. Iris turned so her cheek rested on the fabric of her skirt, looking at Noctis’ profile. “So you do love him? That’s a thing?”
Noctis shrugged, mimicking her earlier response, although he was lot more uptight. She bumped him in the arm with an elbow, earning his side-eye. “I guess?”
“Smugness and noodle slurping and all?” Iris asked.
“Yeah.” Noctis sounded a lot surer this time. She understood how shy he is, but Iris couldn’t resist slumping against him. Just her head and shoulder rested against his side. He didn’t wrap an arm around her, but neither did Noctis tense up, which was just as telling.
“Good, cause he loves you, too. Even if he’s being a butthead about showing it.”
“I think I get it.” That was the sign he’d reached his emotional quota for the day, and Iris had no qualms when he rose off the ground. He dusted off his pants and then offered a hand up. “Let’s get you home.”
Iris accepted his help and didn’t protest him escorting her to the bus stop. She thought Noctis was just going to wait until he was sure she got on the bus, but Iris was pleasantly surprised when he got on alongside her. He had no one to blame but himself when Iris subjected him to all the idle chatter she’d been bottling up for the past week.
Noctis didn’t complain, though, and remained standing and holding onto the metal support pole while she chattered from a nearby seat. Iris was in the middle of recounting what new subjects her teachers introduced to her class when she discovered that they were standing on her front porch.
Jared was just as shocked to see Noctis standing beside her as Iris had been at his accompaniment. He opened the door wider, permitting them both inside. “My apologies, Your Highness. I was not anticipating your arrival. Shall I prepare anything for you?”
“Nah,” Noctis said.
“Very well. If you are seeking the young master of the house, Gladiolus is practicing in the backyard.”
“He’s what?” Iris snapped, suddenly fuming. Her brother had been standing with them as the nurse lady instructed him to take it easy during this stage of recovery. Obviously, Gladiolus assumed he could get away with anything in her absence.
She stormed outside, finding her brother in a white tank and shorts. The wooden training dummies the family kept on hand at the Amicitia property were mostly dismantled at his feet. All but one remained upright, and if Gladiolus didn’t take a break this one would meet the same fate as the others.
“Hey!” Iris shouted, waiting until she had Gladiolus’ attention. He caught the wooden peg with his bandage-free arm before his distraction cost him his good eye as the training dummy spun wildly. She planted both hands on her hips and glowered at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting after an injury? You’re not being a very good role model for us, ya know!”
“Excuse me?” Gladiolus asked.
“She’s right,” Noctis chimed in, hands in his pockets. “I’m feeling reckless already.”
Gladiolus seemed more confused than betrayed that they were ganging up on him. He lifted the arm that’d been cut, the wrappings on it seemingly unimpeded. “The hell you guys, I haven’t even broken a sweat. See? No pushing it.”
“That’s cheating and you know it!” Iris chided. Her brother’s stamina was far beyond anyone else’s, so 'breaking a sweat’ didn’t mean much when he could outlast the majority of the populace.
As they bantered, it was easy to fall back on their sibling rivalry. The bickering lightened the bitterness in Iris’ chest. Gladiolus looked less likely to put a fist through every bit of their training equipment, too.
He remained a bit uncertain, which wasn’t a great look on him. Iris convinced herself it was out of pity (and not spite) that she offered, “Have you even eaten yet? I bet you haven’t. I’m gonna help Jared make the biggest meal of your life and I expect you to eat all of it!” She turned to Noctis and asked if he would also be staying for dinner.
“Only if there’s no veggies,” Noctis said.
“Okay!” Iris readily agreed and ran into the house before her brother could correct either of them.
“And you call me the bad influence,” Gladiolus scolded. Although she’d ducked inside, Iris could barely hear his voice. She paused with her hands on the handle and peeked past the crack between the frame and the sliding glass door. Arms crossed, hip canted, and chin up, Gladiolus said, “Thanks for bringing her here. It’s been weird without her making a ruckus. I never thought I’d admit how much I missed her hanging around.”
Noctis stood a little closer. “Yeah. What was up with that?”
Gladiolus rubbed the back of his neck, his head dipping as he grimaced. “That might have been my bad. You see—”
Iris shut the door, whatever else her brother had to say blocked from prying ears. She decided to be true to her word and find Jared to inquire about dinner. Whatever happened would happen, but she was done being nosy for awhile.
Besides, she had all of tonight’s meal to hound them over it.