Chapter Text
It was Noct's fault, really.
They'd just set up camp at the edge of the Slough, a fire burning bright against the darkening sky, when Ardyn Izunia had strolled through, feet braced just on the edge of the haven. He had a proposal, of course. An offer of assistance, never mind that they didn't trust him as far as they could throw him, never mind that he was smiling like a fox in the open doorway of a henhouse.
So Noct, on his way back from washing his hands in the creek, had let his shoulder bump just a little too hard into Ardyn's. Ardyn's eyes had flown wide, and a strangled curse ground through his teeth as his designer boots came down heavily on the runes of the haven.
There was a cry, high and thin as the whistle of steam escaping a kettle, and the light of the campfire flickered, casting shadows over the stone. They twisted across the runes like a dozen grasping hands, and Prompto rose, gun drawn, as the bushes surrounding the haven rustled and the wind rose to a shriek. On the edge, Ardyn collapsed into himself without a sound. His coat sleeves went limp, his legs buckled, and belts and lace and ribbons fell to the stone in a heap.
"Oh my gods," Prompto whispered, his voice almost lost in the wind. "We killed the chancellor of Niflheim."
"What's Niflheim?" A small hand emerged from a voluminous sleeve, and Ardyn's hat tumbled off a mop of tangled red curls, which frizzed around a thin, pointed face. Ardyn's coat shifted, and a young boy emerged from the puddle of expensive clothes, blinking up at the men around the fire.
"What the hell," Gladio said. The boy jumped, and he gathered the folds of his massive accordion shirt to his chest like a blanket.
"I'm sorry," he said. He had a strange accent, with far more drawl than Noct was used to hearing. "I think I... Have... Have any of you seen my brother?"
Noct glanced at Ignis, who shrugged slightly, a desperate look in his eyes. Prompto looked just as panicked, and Gladio was probably too worried that the boy would startle to move. Noct sighed and got up, and the boy tensed, clutching his clothes tight.
"What's your brother look like?" Noct asked. He crouched down with his hands on his knees, and the boy narrowed his eyes.
"He looks like my brother," the boy said.
"Right, sorry," Noct said. "I should've known that. I haven't seen your brother, but I bet we can help you find him. My name's Noctis. Do you know yours?"
"Of course I know my name," the boy said, drawing himself up as much as possible in his mass of clothes. He lifted his chin. "I'm Ardyn. Ardyn Lucis Caelum."
Silence descended over the haven. In the Slough beyond, the wind moaned like a lost creature, howling over the still waters where the catoblepas slept.
"You've probably heard of me," Ardyn said. He stuck out a floppy sleeve with the superior air of a councilman, head tilted back so he could look at Noct down the length of his nose.
"Yeah," Noct said. He took Ardyn's hand gingerly, like a spell about to explode. "I have a feeling I probably should."
It didn't take much convincing to wheedle Ardyn closer to the fire. He was a skinny kid, all elbows and knees, and one look at the camp stove was enough to draw him into one of the fold-out chairs while Gladio put the chicken back on the burner. His bare feet dangled just above the stone, and he looked at each of the men in turn, fire shining in his golden eyes.
"Excuse me," he said, over the sound of Ignis and Gladio whispering to each other in increasingly frantic tones. "Are you gods?" Noct and Prompto exchanged a look. "You have to be, if you summoned me. What are you the god of?" he asked Noct. "The night? Dreams? Can you make dreams?"
"What? No," Noct said. Ardyn leveled him with a suspicious stare.
"It's rude not to share," he said.
"I don't make dreams," Noct said. "I'm not a god."
"I'd like one with a talking chocobo, please."
"I said--"
"Sorry, kid," Prompto said. "We're just regular guys."
Ardyn turned his baleful look to Prompto. "Well, you two aren't very godlike." He sighed, slumping in his chair. "So why was I sent here?"
"No idea," Noct said. "But don't worry. We'll help you get back."
Ardyn shrugged. The collar of his shirt almost hid his face from view, and he fiddled with the vest band he'd fashioned into a makeshift belt.
"Here we are," Ignis said, in the awkward, stilted way he always spoke when faced with a child. He handed Ardyn a bowl and a fork and edged away, keeping a safe distance. Ardyn tore into it with enthusiasm, shoving his cheeks full of rice and chicken while Noct tried to introduce them all for the second time.
"None of those are real names," Ardyn said, spilling rice down his shirt. "Are you sure you aren't gods in disguise?"
"Pretty sure," Noct said. "My friends and I come from a place called Insomnia--"
"That's not a real name, either!"
"It's real enough," Noct said.
"Then what are you?" Ardyn asked. "Why do you live in the wastes?"
Noct struggled to come up with something. Anything. Hunters. Tourists. Campers. But all he could do was stare at the small child bearing his own last name, and wonder what part of the world could possibly be called the wastes. Somewhere in Niflheim, maybe? But Ardyn didn't know what Niflheim was. Maybe he'd been kidnapped there. Maybe Noct had an uncle, a secret one, whose disappearance had been swept under the rug. Maybe--
"Crownsguard," Prompto said. "We're Crownsguard."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we protect the king," Ignis said, eyeing Prompto carefully. Ardyn slowly looked up, cheeks puffed with rice, his hands disappearing in his sleeves.
"Oh," he said. He swallowed. "Oh, okay, then." He set his bowl down on the ground and tucked his legs under him, trying to get comfortable in the camp chair. Behind him, the world beyond the fire was dark, a pitch blackness that swept about him on either side like the wings of a great bird. Noct got up, and Ardyn's gaze followed him as he crouched into the tent. Noct dragged out their sleeping bags, lining them up by the fire, and arranged most of the pillows in his armiger around the empty tent, forming a makeshift nest of blankets.
"There," he said. "You get the tent, Ardyn. We'll camp the old-fashioned way tonight."
Ardyn blinked slowly, then slid to his feet. He stepped over the bowl and skirted a wide circle around Gladio, who looked slightly wounded, and peered into the entrance of the tent. Seemingly satisfied, he climbed inside, plopped down on the pillows, and rolled himself into a tangle of sheets and sleeping bag until there was only a tuft of red hair poking out of one end.
"I'm a cocoon," he whispered.
Noct grinned sidelong. "Yeah, I see that."
Ardyn giggled and rolled to the edge of the tent. Noct picked up his phone and sent Ignis a text. Did Dad have a brother I don't know about?
No, Ignis texted back. In the tent, Ardyn started kicking pillows around. I admit I'm at a loss.
"So am I," Noct whispered. They all turned to look at the tent, where a young boy was collapsed in the center of a mess of pillows, eyes snapping closed, still smiling. He gave Noct a little wave, and Noct waved back.
They took turns keeping watch, just in case whatever happened to Ardyn wore off in the night, but by the time it was Noct's turn, Ardyn was still asleep, one foot flopping out of the tent, limbs akimbo, mouth open in a wheezing snore. Noct sighed and looked up at the sky, where stars clustered in a band, brilliant and clear.
After a moment, Noct heard a gasp come from the tent, and the patter of bare feet. He grunted as Ardyn slammed into him, small hands braced on his chest, twisting up the fabric of his shirt. Noct sat up, and Ardyn tried to push him down again.
"Don't move!" he hissed. "They'll see you!"
"Okay, okay," Noct whispered. "I'm not moving. What can see us? What's wrong?"
Ardyn was shaking, his whole body trembling like a snapped wire. His chest was heaving in short, uneven breaths, and his eyes were wide and unblinking. "Daemons," he whispered. He raised a hand to the stars.
"You mean the stars?" Noct asked. "The lights in the sky?"
"Eyes," Ardyn said. He shrank down, holding onto Noct. "They're eyes."
"Oh. Oh, no, Ardyn, look." Noct wriggled an arm free and wrapped it around the boy's shaking shoulders. "They're stars. Tiny suns in space, so far away that we can only see a little dot of light. Look, there's the Archer, those three dots. And the Garula."
Ardyn pressed his face to Noct's side, but he still followed Noct's finger over the sky, tracing out shapes. "There shouldn't be stars," Ardyn said. "Papa says all the stars went away with the Scourge."
"Well, they're here now," Noct said. "That's the fox. See his nose?"
Ardyn's hands slowly eased their death grip on Noct's shirt, but he kept close, blinking away tears as Noct pointed out constellations.
"I used to love the stars as a kid," Noct whispered. "Ignis and I used to sneak out to stargaze all the time, and Dad bought this map for me, which had a wheel that rotated based on the season. I bet I can find one for you, if you want. They're pretty much everywhere."
Ardyn rubbed at his cheeks with the palm of his hand. "Why do they all have names?" he asked.
"It'd be boring if they didn't," Noct whispered. "Some of them even have stories. Do you want to hear one?"
Ardyn nodded, and Noct glanced down to find that Ardyn's right thumb was pink and dented with toothmarks. Ardyn slowly raised it to his mouth and gnawed on it, gaze fixed on the sky. Noct squeezed his shoulders a little, and Ardyn let out a long, shaky breath.
"Right," Noct said, and pointed to a group of stars. "Those are the dancers. Their story's a long one..."
Noct made it halfway through before Ardyn stopped trembling. When the boy fell asleep at last, it was with his head on Noct's shoulder, wild hair hanging over his eyes, and a thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. Noct watched him for a while, thinking about the smug, worldly chancellor who'd met them at Galdin Quay, so far removed from the small boy who ate like he was starving and panicked at the sight of a star.
Noct lay back, listening to the whistle of Ardyn Lucis Caelum snoring in his arms, and watched the starlit sky slowly wheel its way towards dawn.