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“Ugh...” Noctis plods along beside his companions, rubbing his stomach and feeling more than a little queasy. They’ve been in Duscae for what feels like an eternity, and they’ve stumbled across the Daurell Caverns. Noctis would have much rather preferred to stay at the outpost nearby, but an Imperial dropship had whizzed overhead; they’re in the caverns for safety, as well as to dispatch the daemons. At least there’s a fishing spot deep in the caves, Noctis thinks as he ambles through the narrow corridor.
He splashes through another murky pool of water, and though his boots are water-resistant, he can’t help feeling gross. He dry-heaves again, and when he gazes at his right hand, it almost looks...green.
“Ignis,” he manages, bracing himself on the wall.
His advisor is on him in an instant, glvoed hands roaming all over, checking for injuries. “Dearest, are you well?”
“I feel sick,” Noctis says. “I feel like...” He looks back down at the pool of water he just disturbed. “I dunno. It feels like the water is...”
“It’s somethin’,” Gladiolus grunts from a little further down. “Poison, maybe.”
“Ah fuck,” Prompto curses. “Hold me, big guy! I don’t wanna walk through no poison water!”
“What! And sacrifice myself for your skinny ass? You hold me.” The shield coughs, thumping his chest. “Goddammit.”
“Gentlemen, please.” Ignis turns back to Noctis, summoning an antidote from the Armiger. “Here love, drink this.”
With trembling hands, Noctis takes the sparkly glass bottle and pops the top, chugging the enchanted drink. He feels an instant cooling sensation, and his skin tone returns to normal levels. He flicks his eyes up to Gladio, who’s walking back towards them with Prompto clinging to his back like a baby marsupial.
“Got a spare one, Iggy?” Gladio grunts, looking uncharacteristically pale. “Think I stepped in it too.”
“Thank the Six I’ve got a smooth ride,” Prompto teases, nuzzling into Gladio’s neck.
The shield rolls his eyes affectionately and takes the second antidote, gulping it down. He sighs in relief, burping. “Better. Thanks.” He bends down to kiss Ignis, who hums, smiling.
Ignis pockets the empty bottles and bends, scooping Noctis up like a bride. “Let’s be sure to avoid these pools, shall we? If the map we received is correct, the lower level should be this way. There are a couple of daemons we should be able to dispatch with relative ease.”
“Onward, faithful steed!” Prompto giggles, arms looped tight around Gladio’s neck.
Gladio tips his head back. “I will deadass drop you straight into that puddle of poison.”
“Nooooooo,” Prompto cries, locking his ankles around Gladio’s abs.
Noctis flashes a peace sign as Ignis carries him down the cavern’s corridor, smirking. “Later losers.”
Ignis hums as he deftly maneuvers around the pools; Noctis illuminates the light on Ignis’ blazer, as well as on his own jacket.
“Onward!” Prompto shouts dramatically as Gladio falls in lock-step behind Ignis and the prince, careful to avoid the poisoned water. “C’mon, Gladdy, we can’t let him get away with that.”
“Why not? He gets away with everything else,” Gladio chuckles.
Prompto giggles and kisses Gladio’s sweat-slicked skin, grinning against the goosebumps that blossom in the aftermath. “Thanks for carrying me,” he whispers.
“Of course, baby,” Gladio says.
“You wouldn’t really dump me into a pool of poison, right?”
“Not if you behave,” Gladiolus teases back.
They descend deeper into the caverns, where a ronin and some hecteyes float menacingly in the distance. Prompto slides to his feet, summoning his gun; and Ignis lets Noctis down gently. The rest of the party pulls their weapons from the Armiger, going on the offensive, and their enemies fizzle into black ooze minutes later.
“Fishing spot?” he questions as Ignis reads the well-worn map by the dim light of the clip-on lamp.
Ignis smiles and points to a junction on the left. “Fishing spot,” he echoes.
Noctis confidently leads his men into the other part of the cavern—and thankfully, no more antidotes are needed.