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Chapter Text

Dusk

At the end of the day's travel they arrive at the outpost, find the squat row of houses with the glowing sign outside, a glaring presence against the backdrop of night. Gil pays the innkeep for the night's stay, orders a round of drinks at the bar to halfhearted applause. The atmosphere is gloomy and Ardyn makes no move to try to lighten it as he usually does.

Gil returns to their table with two tankards and Ardyn picks up one and tips it. "Why all doom and gloom, old friend? This time tomorrow, we'll be home."

He says it in his usual playful manner with the customary jab into Gil's side, but Gil knows better: home is where Ardyn is headed to die at his brother's hands. This time tomorrow, Ardyn will have passed through the Crown City's onyx gates and walked up the long road to the Citadel for the last time. This time tomorrow, Ardyn will be dead.

The onset of night had begun slowly and with warning. Each day the sunrise held back a few minutes more, just like in the months leading up to winter-- only, at that time in Northern Eos, it had been spring. "Let us go back," Ardyn had said, face turned to the sunfall in mid-afternoon where deep blue turned to red over the horizon. "While there still is time."

Gil did not know what conversations had passed between Ardyn and his brother in the place called Reflection to lead Ardyn to this conclusion, but Gil is a man of the sword, not the cloth. His task is not to know, only protect. So he had watched Ardyn wrap himself in layers of clothing so as to not cause undue panic by his appearance, and together they had set off for Crown City of Lucis, to the Citadel where Somnus Lucis Caelum holds the throne in Ardyn's absence.

Tonight after finishing their drinks they had lingered, watching people trickle in and out of the tavern until the lights went out five minutes past closing. Now in their shared room Ardyn has curled up on the other bed on top of the sheets, facing the door, shoulders rising and falling gently with the even rhythm of sleep. In the pale glow of the single lit lamp Gil sees that he has shed his scarves and the heavy coat, revealing the mottling of the Scourge runs up his throat and over his arms, fever-hot were Gil to touch it.

It is not Gil's place to hope, but for the few seconds it takes him to turn out the light, he finds himself wishing for the night not to end.

Dawn

The sun rose over Lucis today, just as Ardyn said it would. The earth continues to turn. Somnus Lucis Caelum has driven a sword through his brother's chest and brought back the dawn.

In the quarrels of kings and gods, there is no place for a shield to speak. He had been silent as he watched Ardyn beg Somnus to kill him. He is silent now as the new king kneels in the remains of a broken-down temple to plead with the old gods to grant another bloodline the power to cleanse the Scourge from the world. If it were up to him, he would not be here at all, but he had sworn his life to the first King of Lucis and he does not lightly break his promises.

Now he stands before the dawn and feels the blaze of the sun upon his skin, but the chill in his heart does not abate, and he knows that it is grief.

Chapter Text

Ardyn prefers to travel incognito. He reveals his first name only rarely, his last name never; if pressed, he calls himself Izunia, his old family name that nobody remembers. His wardrobe is empty of Citadel trinkets and finery, instead crammed with mismatched pieces that bear up well against hard travel, and a set of scarves and a wide hat that conceals as much of his face as he needs to.

Ardyn travels incognito perhaps a little too well, because Gil has been looking for him in the thicket by the waterfall at the edge of town for the better part of fifteen minutes. It is nearly noon, and they are running very behind schedule: they have to turn in the morning's hunt at the diner, and then they need to pay up for the night's lodging at the inn and get out.

He yells for Ardyn again, and gets in response the telltale crystalline snick of Ardyn's magic-- only then does he thinks to look up  and instantly he spots the flash of sunlight against metal, Ardyn hanging by one hand from his sword which is stuck into the trunk of a tree growing at an angle from an outcrop of rock. Even from down here, the height is dizzying. Gil throws one arm across his face to shield his eyes from the sun and calls, "Get down from there. You're going to hurt yourself.

"Is that so," Ardyn yells back, sounding entirely too smug. "Why don't you come over here and make me?"

Ardyn knows full well that Gil cannot warp like he does, and Gil is not about to scale a vertical rock face just to pick his wayward liege out of a tree like a child might rescue a kitten. So Gil just turns his back to the waterfall and waits, counting under his breath, and is satisfied when he hears a loud thud behind him followed by Ardyn's soft cursing.

"Arm went dead," Ardyn complains, rubbing at the offending limb to restore circulation. "Quit laughing."

"I am not," Gil replies, turning around again so Ardyn will not see his smile.

Twelve seconds. That is better than last time, but still not quite enough for Ardyn to fully recover his strength should it become necessary for him to escape a fight this way. Gil makes a mental note to intensify the training regimen, then heads over and holds out a hand to help his king up.

Chapter Text

Mid-afternoon, passing through Coernix, Ardyn calls their chocobos to a halt and asks if they might stop here for the day. They are not making good time through eastern Cleigne and Gil turns around to remind Ardyn of that, but the words die in his throat as Ardyn throws back the hood of his cloak for air and Gil glimpses his pale face and shaking hands.

"Let's go," Gil says, and turns the chocobos for the nearest lodginghouse. Inside by the counter, the innkeep eyes Ardyn carefully. "Is your friend... "

"Not contagious," Gil replies. It's not a lie, and it is all anyone else needs to know.

The moment they're through the door Ardyn collapses into the chair by the door, takes several moments to breathe and steady himself before he tugs at the clasp of his travelling-cloak. "I misjudged. I thought I was fine. It'll blow over--"

"This is the opposite of fine," Gil says. As Ardyn sheds his cloak and coat Gil sees the Scourge that creeps in dark veins over his collarbone, up his neck and to the tightly clenched line of his jaw. Beneath the mottling his skin is stretched tightly over the jut of bone, skin glistening with cold sweat. "Rest first," Gil says. "Everything else can be dealt with later."

He helps Ardyn to the bed, then retrieves the pouches from the partition in Ardyn's case; finds the one containing the remedy, mixes one part powder with two parts water as Ardyn had told him to do. Ardyn accepts the cup with shaking hands, swallows painfully before collapsing back onto the bed.

For the next hours Ardyn drifts in and out of disturbed sleep. Gil stays by his side; sponges his clammy skin with a cool damp cloth, gives him water when he is lucid, does his best to keep him comfortable. Ardyn is always ill the day before they leave town, when the remnants of the Scourge still pulse through his body after his his strength and magic have both been thoroughly exhausted. He has also always recovered quickly. But he has been pushing himself harder and harder as of late, and it has never been this bad before.

As the afternoon passes away, Gil traces the path of the sun in the sky through the light curtains on the far wall. The sun is setting earlier than usual for this time of year, and the sky's reddish glow gradually gives way to silver moonlight.

Several times Ardyn's eyes open, though he does not seem to be looking at anything; sometimes his lips move, though no sound escapes them. Ardyn said before that he dreams only rarely. Instead, when he sleeps, he goes to a place called Reflection where he can talk to his brother even though they are far away. But Gil thinks it is not Somnus he is talking to now, it is not the Crown City he is walking through, because he seems afraid.

It is well into the night before Ardyn's fever breaks. The bruising of the Scourge retreats from his skin, his face smooths, his brow cools. The lamp in the corner of the room radiates soft yellow light, throwing shadows across half his face, and Gil knows that come morning he will be right as rain-- at least until the next time.

(Gil thinks that one day, he will not survive to see a next time.)

When Ardyn opens his eyes he says, "It's night. How long has it been night?"

"Just a few hours," Gil replies.

He prepares to stand, but Ardyn catches his sleeve. "Gil, do you think the sun will rise tomorrow?"

"Of course it will. Why wouldn't it?"

"I thought I saw," he begins, and Gil waits. The window is open, the light curtains billowing gently with the night wind. Somewhere outside, insects are calling.  "Insomnia, ruined. Overrun with daemons. It was night. It's been night for a very, very long time."

"You are sick," Gil replies, voice rough in the quiet night. "You had a bad dream. The sun is just where it should be, and the Crown City is fine."

"A bad dream," Ardyn repeats, hands curling in the sheets. He glances toward the window; aside from the sliver of the moon, it is all but pitch black outside. "I hope so."

The bed dips under Gil's weight where he sits, his sleeve still clasped in Ardyn's hand. "How are you doing?"

For a long time Ardyn does not speak, the rhythm of his breathing harsh in the silent room. "Not well, Gil," he says and finally lets go, eyes slipping closed into another half-sleep. Peaceful, this time.

Gil turns out the light, leaves Ardyn to his rest. Then he throws his travelling-cloak on and heads back out into town.

At this late hour, the town square is deserted. The temple to the Astrals still stands, but a weathered wooden bolt lies across the door, barring entry. The gods had gone silent the day the Lucis Caelums ascended the throne, and all over Eos the temples that dotted the continent had been abandoned and fallen into disrepair.

Now Gil pulls aside the wooden bolt and opens the heavy double doors, crosses the small courtyard to the prayer hall and steps inside. Pale moonlight floods the room from the doorway; the air is dusty and stale with disuse. Before the altar are the stone statues of the Six and Gil lifts his head to meet the Draconian's eyes. Shifts his weight, the creak of his boots loud in the silence. "Lord Bahamut, if you can hear me..."

Gilgamesh is not a man of faith. He has never needed to rely on the gods for his living; his own strength suffices for that. But a sword of iron cannot kill the blood sickness of the Scourge, and a shield of flesh cannot protect Ardyn from the gods' cursed calling. "... It is not right for one man to suffer so that the world may live," he says. "But if it must be so, then let me pay the price, and free him from this."

Even as he speaks the words aloud he knows them to be absurd. The Lucis Caelums were chosen and consecrated as the saviors who will deliver Eos from ruin, and nothing so paltry as one man's supplication could hope to change the course of that fate. All around him the prayer hall is silent and unmoving, the gods make no reply. Perhaps they do not deign to answer him. Perhaps they do not know what they are doing, either.

The next morning Ardyn is up with the sun, seemingly having made a full recovery, and he haphazardly stuffs all their possessions into their traveling-cases while Gil is still rubbing the sleep from his own eyes. "Thank you for yesterday," he says.

Gil lets out a low huff. "Just don't let it happen again."

"It won't," Ardyn replies, a somber expression flashing across his face. Then he shoots Gil a grin as blinding as the sun overhead. "Better be off. We've lost enough time."

Outside the inn he stows his cases and is off in a cloud of dust before the innkeep can look twice. Just for an instant, Gil stands still and watches Ardyn's silhouette pull away. Then he picks up his own chocobo's reins, and follows.

Chapter Text

Years and years later a tap-tap-tapping rouses Gil from sleep. He opens his eyes and the room is colder than it usually is, the window is open with a night breeze making the curtain billow and Ardyn Izunia of all people is sitting on his windowsill, legs dangling into the room "Surprise," he says, voice lively but there is no twinkle in his eye as there used to be.

"I saw you die." Gil thinks he is probably still dreaming, his hand goes for his sword anyway. The King's chambers are far away but this window is also three storeys up and there are no trees or other access points nearby.

A chuckle. "It would seem that the gods don't let go of their Chosen so easily."

"I saw you die," Gil repeats. "I saw the body burn."

The edges of Ardyn's silhouette are blurry, Gil squints and moves his head to get a closer look and Ardyn notices. Observant as always. "Look out of the corner of your eye," he advises.

So Gil does that, and in his indirect field of vision he sees the mask of skin slip from Ardyn's face. Beneath is gristle and exposed flesh glistening raw, clumpy black ichor oozing from the pits where eyes should be.  Gil blinks and re-focuses, the air shimmers once around the silhouette and the person on the windowsill is just Ardyn again. Or else something that looks like him.

"Ah. You've noticed." A quirked smile, the angle of it is wrong. "You wondered how I lived? That is how. When I forged the covenants with the Astrals, they said I would have to sacrifice my life in return. They keep their word very well, do you know? My life... all two thousand years of it. That's how long the Crystal needs to gather its light. That is how long I will have to hold ... this."

He looks down at his hands and Gil follows the motion, sees skeleton fingers dripping the same black ooze. Then the haze passes in and out of view again and they are just Ardyn's hands again, clean and long-fingered, and Gil remembers how gentle they used to be. "Why are you here? Why come back now, after so long?"

"I have lost my flesh and soon I will lose my mind," the thing in Ardyn's shape says. "How much of a person can be consumed before it is no longer them, do you think? But before that happens I wanted to tell you I am still alive, and I want to say goodbye." A pause. "Tell Somnus I was here. Tell him I hope he has bad dreams."

"Where are you going?"

"Dark places," Ardyn-thing says. Where the moonlight falls he looks the same as always but in the shadowed parts the shape is different, part smoke, part tar. "Watch over my nephews for me, will you? The Crystal still needs them, and I would hate for something untoward to happen before the bill comes due. Remember, two thousand years. Until then, old friend, I bid you... adieu."

He swings his legs back over the windowsill and shifts himself outward, center of gravity sending him over the edge and into the night. A wind makes the curtain billow. Gil goes to the window to look but there is nothing outside except the ground far below, and the round moon in the night-black sky.

Chapter Text

Gilgamesh has never met Ardyn Lucis Caelum in person, only communicated with his aide. Over the last several weeks he had received series of letters that first ascertained his identity and his achievements, then invited him to accompany the King who will be travelling Lucis to heal the scourge from the hearts of men. They had arranged to meet at Insomnia's gates, without fanfare since the King intends to leave as quietly as he can.

Now, early morning over Lucis, the sun is just rising over the horizon. Gil has been waiting by the gates since dawn and now he hears a sound in the distance, lifts his head to see two figures leading chocobos down the long straight road from the Citadel to the Crown City's gates. One is formally dressed in Citadel robes, the other less so. As they approach Gilgamesh bends at the waist to the man in formal robes. "Your Majesty?"

The formally dressed man clears his throat awkwardly. "Uh, sorry. I'm Somnus. That's Ardyn."

Gilgamesh's gaze snaps then to the man adjusting the saddle on one of the chocobos. In the blazing desert heat the man is wearing pinstriped trousers and a mismatched dress shirt beneath a heavy-looking vest, and a wide hat perched at a jaunty angle at his head.

In short, he looks nothing like a king.

"Pleased to meet you." Ardyn Lucis Caelum says, doffing his hat, then he holds out one hand. His handshake is firm, his palm callused and warm, Despite the unassuming appearance, the man is strong. Then he says, "Do you mind if I call you Gil?"

Gilgamesh thinks it a strange request but says it is fine. King Ardyn shoots him a smile that reaches his eyes, then swings himself up into the chocobo saddle. Gil does not miss the way the chocobo quiets instantly under his touch. "Well then. Shall we be off? The day's getting on, and there will be time for introductions on the road, I'm sure."

This is Gilgamesh's initial impression: Ardyn Lucis Caelum is a little strange, but a capable man. He is also sure of himself, perhaps somewhat too proud, and Gilgamesh has read enough history to know that rarely ends well.

Still, serving a king like this will never be boring , at the very least.

Chapter Text

Ten years late, dawn will return to Lucis.

At the end of everything Noctis is slowly getting to his feet, surrounded by a circle of his companions, but as Ardyn approaches no one draws their weapons or move to stop him. They know the darkness has left him now, soul and body both. Just as Noctis has fulfiled his calling and is no longer the King of Light, so is Ardyn no longer the Accursed.

He walks through the Citadel and he can feel the sun warm his skin again, the Oracle's sigils no longer burn his flesh. Thousands of years of pain and hatred melt away into the haze of memory, falling away like light through glass even as he reaches for them. It is like waking from a very, very long dream.

He takes his leave of Noctis and Luna and drives alone over the well-worn Lucian roads, and with each mile the trappings of night seem to fall away like a curtain from his mind. Different memories flood in to take their place, sun-touched ones of old adventures and old friends from a time when Lucis still was young. Somnus has gone gently to his well-deserved rest but there is one more old friend he still must greet.

He pulls up by the entrance to Taelpar and thinks, there are some things even millennia cannot change. Taelpar, the Disc, Ravatogh. Once inside the cave the Blademaster senses Ardyn's presence almost immediately. He appears before Ardyn, who says. "Shall we go outside?"

Gil hesitates as they first emerge into the dawn and Ardyn glances at him worriedly, but Gil says: "The sun does not hurt me. I am just not used to it. But why did you come to look for me."

"I promised that I would watch the dawn with you."

"That was a long time ago. I am surprised you remember."

"I remember," Ardyn says softly. Gil's face is not visible beneath the mask, but Ardyn thinks that he is smiling.

There is a haven nearby and they sit and watch the sky, just as they had many lifetimes ago when Gil used to take second watch and Ardyn couldn't sleep. Gil has already met Gladio, so Ardyn tells him about Noctis and Luna instead, and about Ignis and Prompto and Iris and Cor. Gil never had children of his own, but the way he treats the Amicitia who dare seek his power, Ardyn thinks it's probably better that he didn't.

The sky lightens, hue by hue, and eventually Ardyn has to pull down the brim of his hat to shield his eyes from the sun's glare. Gil seems unfazed, as always.

"So the prophecy is fulfilled," Gil says. "The terms of your pact with the Astrals are complete. And my job is done, too."

The rebuilding effort is underway, and when that is complete Noct will dissolve the Lucian monarchy. No more shields, and no more kings. There is just Lucis, and the desert that even now to stretch out into eternity. "Yes," Ardyn says softly. "It is, isn't it?"

"Then," Gil says, "I will take my leave of you now."

"You may go, Gilgamesh."

Ardyn's role is similarly done, but there are still things that tie him to this world. Lucis and Niflheim are slowly restoring their cities, the transnational rail, their trade routes and their economy. As for Ardyn himself, he must see Noctis and Luna's children, at least.

"Thank you," Gil says. "It was an honour to serve at your side, Your Majesty." A moment after, Ardyn feels the tug of something pulling free. Gil's suit of armor falls to the ground, no longer animated by a spirit. It turns to ash and scatters to the winds.

"You know, old friend," Ardyn says, tears rising to his eyes for the first time in a long time, "you're the first person to call me that."