Work Text:
“Hey, why don’t we have garulessa sandwiches tonight?” Noctis suggested as he helped Gladio set up the tent.
Ignis had only just finished lighting the fire; Noctis must have been eager to eat, to throw a suggestion out this early. Unfortunately, Ignis would have to disappoint him.
“We’re all out of wheat, I’m afraid,” he replied. “It would be worth stocking up next time we’re in town.”
“Huh?” Noctis asked. He paused just long enough for Gladio to clear his throat before getting back to work. “That can’t be right. Check the armiger again?”
“There’s no need, Noct,” Ignis sighed. Despite his words, he did reach out to scan for it in the armiger; he was nothing if not thorough. “I’m well aware of exactly what our stock is—”
Wheat was there. Plenty of it, actually. When in the world had they acquired more?
Ignis had checked their stocks just this morning. He knew they had run out, and there had been no time to restock since.
Noctis turned to smirk at him, no doubt realizing why Ignis had cut himself off. “Told ya.”
“Where did this come from?” Ignis asked. “We did not have it earlier.”
“Oh, yeah, it was in the back. I just moved stuff around.”
That… didn’t make any sense. The armiger stored items, yes, but it wasn’t a storage area with a physical space. There was no “front” and certainly no “back.”
From the expression Gladio wore, he didn’t find that explanation believable either.
“There’s stuff hidden in the armiger!?” Prompto, apparently, didn’t even question it, blindingly excited at the prospect of new, free supplies.
Strangely excited, to be quite honest. Ignis narrowed his eyes; was Prompto simply trying to back Noct up, or was he in on this?
“Yeah,” Noctis said, all the confidence in the world behind the word, yet Ignis wasn’t persuaded for a single second. “It’s hard to explain, but sometimes things fall a bit too deep in. Even I can’t always feel it, so I’m not surprised you guys can’t tell.”
Ignis summoned all his self-control to keep calm. Noctis was lying to his face, to all of them, and didn’t even have the gall to look ashamed.
He and Gladio exchanged a look. Was this worth fighting on?
Ignis did a mental check of the armiger, looking more carefully at their entire stock. He hadn’t checked their equipment in a while, but he knew their curative and ingredient stocks by heart.
Sure enough, there was more of everything, even some high level potions that Noctis hadn’t been able to find a good base for yet.
His sad excuse fell further apart knowing their best curatives had been, mysteriously, pushed to the back.
But there was nothing harmful, and it was Noctis’ magic that permeated all the curatives; there was nothing odd about them other than their being in the armiger at all.
Perhaps he stole the drinks and the ingredients? That would certainly be out of character, but it would be something to hide. Even then, however, their financials had not gotten that dire; Noctis would have had no need to resort to petty theft.
It was then Ignis realized that among the ingredients, there were somehow Ulwaat berries, which weren't even sold in any town they'd been in so far. How in the world...?
He watched as Noctis stretched, the tent now fully pitched and ready to go. He was avidly avoiding eye contact with Gladio and Ignis, looking rather fascinated by anything else before settling on chatting up Prompto.
Ignis had no idea what Noctis had done, but he did, ultimately, trust him. The prince would share his dubious methods when the time was right, surely.
For now… he decided to let it slide. Barely.
He summoned up what he needed and began the prep.
Cooking the recipe went smoothly. There was nothing odd about the ingredients themselves, merely their existence, and soon enough they were all sat at the campfire, meals in hand.
“Thanks, Specs,” Noctis threw out casually before shoving way too much of the sandwich into his mouth.
Ignis quirked a brow. Since when had Noctis started thanking him for the meals?
“Any time, Noct.”
Noctis’ reply was little more than a hum. For some reason, it struck Ignis as rather sad, although he couldn’t imagine why.
What a strange night.
Prompto wasn’t the smartest guy around, but he was observant; every now and then, while he might not be able to explain it, he’d notice small things that nobody else would.
When the focus of his attention was Noctis, this skill increased tenfold—there was very little Prompto missed about his best friend.
So, when Noctis’ entire demeanor had shifted just seconds before the flash of the camera went off, Prompto had noticed. He’d looked confused and guarded, as if he’d forgotten where he was.
Then the moment passed, and before Prompto could say anything, Noctis was already peering over his shoulder, eager to see the results.
Prompto pulled it up on the display.
Sure enough, Noctis’ expression was odd, caught half-blinking and in a weird, stiff pose. Not a flattering photo by any means, but it looked entirely like Noctis just had the sun shining in his eyes at the wrong angle.
Nothing notable about it, just a regular bad picture at the seaside.
“Aw, man, that one sucks,” Noctis laughed. “Let’s get another one—you and I together, let’s do it!”
“Huh?” Prompto blinked. Noctis never asked for a selfie. “Uh—sure!”
They trudged over to the seaside together, Noctis’ gait a little stranger than usual, like he was overcompensating for his limp.
Before Prompto could even begin to question what that was about, he felt an arm snake around his shoulders, pulling him close.
Without missing a beat, Prompto whipped his arm out, camera in hand, cracked a smile and snapped the pic.
A second one for good measure this time, too.
As soon as he brought his arm back down, Noctis was once again looking over his shoulder to see the results.
“That’s way better,” Noctis commented.
He was, technically, right. The sunlight framed them, and Prompto had managed to wing out a pretty good angle for such a quick shot, yet…
All Prompto could see was how utterly tired Noctis looked in it.
“Of course it is,” he said anyway, covering his thoughts with a smirk. “I’m in it.”
That got him a friendly jab to the shoulder. “You’re such a dweeb.”
“A handsome dweeb.”
The banter was a familiar lead into a comfortable silence as they fell into step side-by-side to head back to the others.
Or, it should have been a comfortable silence. Prompto toyed with his lip as he considered asking Noctis if anything was up.
“You okay?” Noctis beat him to it.
With a small jolt, Prompto instinctively replied, “Yep! All good!”
“…You sure?”
Prompto might have been good at reading Noctis, but since when had Noctis been good at reading Prompto?
And he looked so concerned…
He fumbled for a cover-up, anything to avoid telling Noctis that he was what was upsetting Prompto when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Yeah. Um. I was just thinking, we never did get to take a picture at the Rock of Ravatogh like we’d talked about that one time.”
Noctis’ eyes widened, his mouth forming a silent “oh.”
“Say,” he said, a few seconds later. “Why don’t we head out for it tomorrow?”
Prompto slowed to a stop. It would take hours, if not days, to head over there, and for a picture? He quirked a brow.
“Tomorrow? Dude, did you forget? We head for Altissia tomorrow, remember?”
Noctis smiled, the corners of his mouth curving up in a well-practiced, princely smile that had never fooled Prompto before and wasn’t about to now.
“…Just a few more days couldn’t hurt, could it?”
It probably could. They’d taken so long to finally have the boat ready, and it would take longer still to travel over the seas to Altissia. Lady Lunafreya must have already been waiting for some time, now.
Prompto looked back down at the photograph, at Noctis’ tired eyes.
…Well, it wasn’t like Prompto was the one in charge. He was the fun friend, not the responsible one.
“…Yeah, you’re right, let’s do it.”
Sincerity leaked into Noctis’ smile at those words, and Prompto couldn’t find it in himself to regret encouraging him to shirk his duties a little while longer.
“But you’re the one telling Iggy about the change in plans!”
At least Noctis’ grimace was the same as always.
“Gladio, Impulse!” Noctis yelled.
“What?” Gladio replied as he swung his sword at an MT, bashing the robot’s armor in. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your technique, remember? You’re the one that named the damn thing!” Noctis scolded.
Impulse did sound like the kind of thing he would call an attack. Cool, and powerful.
He’d have to remember that, if he ever created a technique worthy of it.
“You been fantasizing about me over there, Princess? That doesn’t exist!”
With a final swing, the MT went down. He never let Noctis out of his peripherals, but he made a point to glance over fully, just for a moment, before engaging the next enemy. Noctis didn’t look confused as he warp struck an MT right in its core.
“Ugh! Nevermind! Prompto, Trigger-Happy!”
“What!?” the blond squawked a ways back. “I’m being careful!”
The way Noctis had said that… Gladio narrowed his eyes, but kept focus on blocking the MT’s attack before releasing a counterattack.
Before long, a final gunshot rang out and the last MT went crumbling to the ground.
“Hehe, bullseye!” Prompto congratulated himself.
Ignis adjusted his shirt. “One day, perhaps the imperials will run out of forces.”
Noctis snorted. “Maybe in ten years.”
He let his sword fade away—a new one he’d supposedly found in the shops at Lestallum, even though it seemed way too strong to be standard issue shop fare—and turned, starting the trudge back to the Regalia.
Gladio caught up. “What was that earlier?” he asked.
“What was what?”
“You ordered out fake techniques in the middle of combat, Noct. We’re lucky we were only against MTs, just a few seconds of distraction is all a smart enemy would need to end us.”
“I got the name of your attack mixed up, so what? You can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a name you’d use,” Noctis waved his hand dismissively, as if this was something he did all the time.
And sure, Noctis would sometimes call out to the wrong person, or mix up technique names; maybe Gladio could have bought that, if Noctis hadn’t doubled down on it.
“And Prompto’s?” Gladio pushed.
“What about Prompto?”
Astrals, this kid was such a stubborn pain in the ass sometimes.
“Don’t play dumb,” he warned. “I know what’s an order and what’s an observation.”
Noctis sighed and hurried his pace. Gladio matched. Behind them, he could hear Prompto cut off mid-sentence as he and Ignis noticed the tension in front of them.
“Look,” Noctis’ voice was quiet, but clear as day to Gladio. “I’m really tired, okay? I blanked and I panicked. Sorry. Specs doesn’t need to know, he’ll nanny me to death, so, just, shut up.”
The odd tilt in Noctis’ voice killed any belief in his words. He was still hiding something, and Gladio knew him too well not to recognize it.
He could also recognize the pleading look Noct shot him to drop the subject.
“If this is serious,” Gladio warned, voice a low rumble, “You’d better tell us what’s up.”
“Of course,” Noctis confirmed.
Gladio forced his tense muscles to relax at that. He had to trust Noctis on it, no matter how much his gut was telling him that something was wrong.
“You guys doing okay up there?” Prompto’s voice broke the silence.
“Yep. His Royal Highness just needs his beauty sleep.”
“Oh, man, sleep! Can we get real beds tonight!?”
“We’re rather short on gil, I’m afraid,” Ignis answered.
“Actually…” Noctis spoke. “I think we can manage a night.”
Prompto whooped. “Bed, here I come!”
“Have we mysteriously gained more gil, now?” Ignis sounded defeated.
“Not mysterious! I sold off a few things at the rest stop a few hours ago!”
Ignis’ sigh made it clear he was far from convinced, and Gladio realized that the strange armiger stock changes brought to light a few weeks back must still be happening.
Noctis had been lying about that, too.
Was that connected…? It could be.
Gladio stuck near Noctis more than usual the next few days, just to make sure he wasn’t up to anything suspicious.
He wasn’t. In the end, the only suspicious thing was that it took Noctis five whole days before he finally got on Gladio’s ass for it.
Until then, it almost seemed like he enjoyed the company.
Noctis was scared.
He’d had ten years to come to terms with the inevitable fact that bringing back the dawn would cost his life, yet still, he was scared.
He glanced up from his meal, a treat he had to savor every bite of while he could.
Noctis would never get to do this again. Never get to see them again, talk to them, or anything.
He would die. He knew it. He accepted it.
But he wasn’t ready for that, not yet. Not ever.
The next time they would all camp out, back in his proper timeline, it would be a farewell.
There was no way around it; his selfish wants could delay everything for a while in the past (not that it would change anything; a delay was all this could ever be, it was never truly an opportunity to fix things), but he couldn’t risk sparing a second in the endless night. Every wasted moment in that dark world risked another life, risked Ardyn getting just that much stronger, risked everything.
But here and now… there was nothing. It was just the crackling of a campfire keeping them company as they ate one of Iggy’s delicious home-made meals under a brilliant view of the stars.
He hadn’t much cared for camping at the start of their road trip, but now, he wouldn’t trade this time for anything else in the world.
“Dude, are you okay?” Prompto’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I know Iggy’s food is good, but, like, to tears?”
He was teasing, but Noctis could hear the genuine love and concern in his words. It only made the burning in his eyes worse.
Ignis placed his dish down, focus now entirely on Noctis. Gladio’s brow was creased as he watched him as well.
Ignis was about to get up and this would be a whole thing if he didn’t say something.
“I’m fine,” he said. Shit, his voice wavered, too. He couldn’t tell them what was up, but he couldn’t hide that he was upset. “Just… thinking about my dad. And how his nights camping must have been just like this.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gladio took over. “My dad had a few stories to tell. Did the king ever tell you about the time he and my dad got harassed by a wild chocobo?”
Despite himself, Noctis let out a laugh. “What?”
“Oh, man—so they were just packing up camp when they noticed their food had gone missing, and…”
Gladio went on to tell a story about a chocobo stalking and stealing their parents’ supplies, thwarting all their traps and precautions. It was entirely ridiculous, and yet, entirely possible to imagine now that Noctis had dealt with so many strange events himself.
His dad had known exactly what he was doing when he sent Noctis off. He’d wanted his son to make just as many fond memories before…
…
Soon, Noctis would be ready. Soon, he’d head back to fix everything.
But for now… Noctis figured he could laugh with his friends for just another night.