Archive of Our Own

    Clive had always tried to be a good son. He knew he was a disappointment and that he failed to awaken to be the heir that was desired, but he could make himself useful as Joshua’s shield. All the training, all the work, all the tasks and commands. Clive would take those for all of his life just for the right to see his brother smile.

    That was not enough for his mother. More and more with every day it seemed like nothing was enough for his mother. That anything Clive did would be turned against him into some grander scheme to dishonor the noble blood of his family.

    His mother told him he wasn’t part of their family.

    She told him he was worthless. That he had failed. That he had scorned everything their bloodline stood for.

    His uncle was coming to visit them and Clive had been so excited. He remembered the hunting trips and the tender family moments they had shared. He remembered sitting on his knee and working with both his uncle and father to learn to ride his first chocobo.

    His mother made sure to keep him away from home when his uncle was there. Every time he would make it back from whatever task she set to him, he would just miss him.

    It stung. His father said it was never intentional but Clive wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. He wasn’t surprised when the news came that his Uncle would be visiting them that it also came with a summon from his mother. Clive went, he always went, there was never any other choice. She could have him removed from his place as Joshua’s shield if she thought that he wasn’t good enough or that he would be slacking in his duties required of him. If Clive wanted to stay anywhere near his brother then he needed to prove to his mother that he could be a good son. Even when it felt like a dagger was being pushed through his heart and he no longer knew how to stand beside the rest of his family.

    It felt wrong anymore, to be called a Prince.

    The other shields had accepted him by now, Clive knew that. He also was aware that it was only because he was half decent with a sword that that was the case. If he’d failed to learn the skills Lord Murdoch taught him then he would just be another spoiled little lordling who only held his position because of his father’s power. When it came to the protection of Joshua though, he wasn’t positive that would even save him. Joshua was the heir and the dominant of the Phoenix. He was the one that was going to lead Rosaria through all her troubles and into the future that the Gods had planned for them. Joshua was the one who made everyone smile. He was honest and true and kind. He was happy despite all the ailments the world tried to through in his direction. He was going to make a wonderful Archduke one day when he was old enough and Clive wanted to see it. He wanted to be there for him.

    Their shields called both of them Highness even though Clive heard it in relation to himself less and less. He was alright with that. He was alright with taking a seat with shields rather than with the rest of his family. When he did listen to his father’s beckons and sit at the head table with them, his mother’s eyes would bear into him with the weight of the heavens themselves and Clive would barely be able to eat. It felt like even breathing in his mother’s direction was a mistake. The best thing he could find to do anymore was to hide from her. Bury his existence away and hope she wouldn’t notice him if he was fast enough to hide. Hope she wouldn’t find some fault and force him to correct it or give him a punishment no one else could do.

    Clive had seen shields discipline their students hundreds of times by now. He’d been learning for the last ten years in order to make it to where he was now and he knew that Lord Murdoch was kind with him.

    Even his teacher had his limits.

    Clive had been clumsy, he knew that. He could feel the stress of his mother’s demands beating down on him but nerves were never an excuse to the one that was meant to be the First Shield of Rosaria. He was meant to be Joshua’s protector through every fight they were going to face. If he was afraid of his own blood to the point it would impact his performance he wasn’t sure what that said about his capabilities as a shield. Nothing good, he knew that. He’d been trying. Accepting the punishments and the lectures that came when he failed to perform to the standard that was expected of him.

    Clive had not only needed to be suitable with a blade or with his handling of the Phoenix’s blessing, he needed to be excellent. He needed to perform better than the other more trained shields around him if he was going to truly prove himself. He couldn’t even remember all the late nights and early mornings. When he would be the last one to leave the yard at night and the first one into it in the morning. When he would squeeze in moments for extra training because he knew that it was his only option for making it enough to stay with his family. Clive knew the cost. His brother’s laugh and smile.

    Joshua had always talked loudly for how Clive was his shield. How his brother would protect him always and that he would win in every fight they came across. Joshua put so much love and respect unto him that he had no other choice but to do it. To make it real. To make his brother smile and his face light up with pride.

    Clive couldn’t let him down.

    He’d already failed his mother by being born wrong. He’d failed his father by being a disgrace to him and everything else their family was meant to represent. Joshua was the only one who told everyone he was good. Joshua was the one person who it felt still truly loved him for simply existing. Not for what he could do necessarily but for who he was. He knew that even if he couldn’t be his shield, Joshua would love him. It was just the kind of person that he was. His brother the Phoenix, ruler over life and death. The kindest person he’d ever known or met. He was wonderful. He was kind. He was everything that was good and Clive couldn’t fail him. Not when Joshua had put so much faith into him. Not when failing would make his brother’s belief into a lie. Not when he would risk tarnishing everything his brother was meant to mean to their people.

    He tried.

    He ran laps around the palace in the mornings before anyone else was up. He cleaned the stables before the sun would rise and he cleaned them again when it set below the horizon. He spent his time with the chocobos and ensured they were healthy and fed. That they were enjoying their time in the service of the Dutchy. He did all the chores he could find and he would take up his sword to be ready to train by the time the Lord Commander reached the yard himself to work with him. He would practice his drills often and he would spar to improve how to fight in an actual situation. Clive studied when he could as well. As much information as he could fit into his head about tactics and how to survive if they needed to run into the woods. How to care for the dominant of an eikon if the power were ever to become too much at a time.

    He needed to make sure that under any circumstance he would be able to protect his brother.

    Even circumstance where he was tired. Where he was afraid and feeling a tremor through his limbs every time he moved. Where he would watch his vision blur on the edges whenever he stood or turned too quickly.

    It started days ago. A near week if he was counting things honestly for himself. The moment he knew his Uncle was to be coming and his mother’s observations increased. He wanted to be able to do the right thing. He was hopeful, no matter how foolish it was, that he might be able to impress her enough to be able to stay. To see his Uncle and laugh with him. To go on a hunting trip with him. To help in some way where he would be able to spend time with him again. Even if they were playing pretend like they did when they were younger.

    His Uncle had always laughed so loudly compared to everything else in the palace. Clive often would wonder what things might be like if he lived still in Rosalyth instead of Port Isolda. If things would be different or if his Uncle would simply no longer be a respite to the frustration and hurt he felt building up inside him. If his Uncle saw all the things the rest of his family did, would he start to hate him too?

    Even his mentor was beginning to show his disappointment in him. Clive had been doing the best that he could but it didn’t stop the Lord Commander from noticing the sluggish pace of his runs or the clumsy swings he did with his sword. He noticed the lack of power and focus when it came to Clive calling upon the blessing of the Phoenix and he noticed when he stumbled on his footwork that should be second nature by now in his training. Every misstep was a mistake that could cost him or Joshua or anyone else their life. It was something that was meant to be beneath him by this point and yet Clive was here and still making the mistakes. He knew better and was still making the mistakes.

    The comments turned into lectures. The orders turned into demands. There were days in the past where his mentor would look at him and Clive would see pride on his expression when he would do a job well done. When he would land a strike against his mark or he would put in enough force that he could best another shield in a fight. They often times had him sparring against other squires but more and more recently he’d been permitted to fight against true shields. He was working his way up to fighting his mentor. It was going to be a show for everyone, he was sure. He knew that the times in the past when they would practice spar there had always been an audience. Joshua and Jill had always wanted to come and watch when it happened but the fact that Clive himself rarely knew when they would occur saved him the embarrassment.

    He’d been learning for ten years and he still couldn’t hold a candle against his mentor.

    The kick beneath his legs sent Clive crashing down to the ground without ceremony or comfort. His head connected sharply with the dirt and Clive had to blink to get the spots away from his vision.

“That was sloppy.”

    His mentor’s shame in him was clear as day. Clive swallowed the scratch in his throat as he tried to breathe. Everything in his body hurt. His lungs felt almost like they were snapping when he tried to draw in air. If he showed that much weakness after half of a spar he would be removed from his station.

“I taught you better than that. You’ve been careless this entire week. Why.”

    It wasn’t an ask, it was a demand.

    Clive pushed himself up to sit. His body protested the motion and his stomach flipped but he still made the motion to respond only to be cut off.

“Lord Marquess!”

    Clive turned to see a servant standing in his mother’s uniform. She was one of her attendants then. He knew what that meant.

“You better hurry.”

    There was something complicated in his mentor’s eyes.

“You don’t want to disappoint her the way you just did to me. She won’t be as forgiving.”

    Clive swallowed the bitterness that rushed him from that comment. It stung but he had no choice but to nod and take it anyway. He was right, after all. Clive was sloppy. He was careless, weak, it was a disgrace.

    He followed into the palace without another word. He knew better than to make eye contact with others and he knew better than to look up. He led himself be guided through the halls until he was brought to his mother’s chambers. Only when the door was shut did Clive bow and hold the position.

“You asked for me?”

“I require you to get flowers for Joshua’s tonics.”

    Exactly as he expected.

“They’ll be in the fields somewhere beyond the city. Go. Your Prince requires them.”

    Arguing back would only serve to hurt him worse.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

    Clive turned to leave as quickly as he could. He wanted to be away from her before she could note any of the weakness he’d shown down in the yard. His head was spinning already but he knew he couldn’t refuse the mission. The air felt thin around him but Clive worked to count his breaths so they would stay steady as he moved.

    By the time he made it to the stables he was barely resisting the urge to tear his lungs from his chest to stop the pressure and ache. He didn’t understand what was wrong. It was just a spar. He shouldn’t be like this. All week he’d barely been doing a fraction of what he normally did, there was no reason for him to be this weak.

    Ambrosia nudged her head against his when he pet along her neck. By the sound of her warble alone he knew she was worried.

“I’m alright girl.”

    He coughed into his shoulder and reached for the water flask he didn’t remember picking up.

“We have a job to do.”

    He wouldn’t be expected for training until he returned. He supposed that was a benefit to all of this. He would have time to figure out what was wrong and come up with an excuse to give to his mentor. He needed to come up with something that was acceptable. Something that would let him stay with his brother. Something that might save him from being an utter failure. It just felt like he couldn’t think and despite all his efforts to try nothing he did was good enough.

    Nothing he did was ever good enough.

    But maybe he could fix it with this. Maybe he could do something right and they would forgive him. Maybe he could prove himself.

    Maybe he could stay.

“Are you ready, girl?”

    Ambrosia stomped. Her head again nudged against his and Clive swallowed the rasp he’d caught in his voice.

“Let’s not disappoint.”

.

    Clive didn’t remember leaving or making it to the woods. He didn’t remember the first flowers he picked but when he looked down into his satchel there were already a dozen picks from the flowers he knew often went into Joshua’s medicines. His mother hadn’t told him what exact kind he needed but Clive had studied. He knew the different ones that could be used for tonics and potions. He knew what the physickers had been using for his brother and his sicknesses. The wind blew and Clive shivered despite himself. He was sweating. It was hot. The breeze itself was warm and there was no reason for him to shiver as he was but he felt as if Shiva herself was driving ice through his core. He attempted to take a deep breath to still himself but all that served was to tear coughs through his lungs.

    There was no one here to pretend for. No one here that required him to guard how he reacted.

    Clive doubled over and heaved around his lungs. He choked on the air he tried to take in and coughed until there were tears welled in his eyes and threatening to fall to the dirt below. Until he was gasping and his shoulders rose and fell with every breath he managed to take in.

    Ambrosia was beside him, ever loyal. She was worried. Her head nudging against his as she tried to convince him to get up. When Clive opened his eyes from the fit the world seemed far too bright around him.

“I’m alright.”

    It was beginning to feel like a lie.

“It’s alright, girl. We’re almost done.”

    If he failed to bring back the right flower or not enough of it then he would be turned around and sent directly back out to continue on with his task. Anything short of perfect execution of his duty was unacceptable. If he came back and had to face more shame he wasn’t sure what he would do. Part of him wondered if right now his mentor was discussing his place in the palace and his capability as a shield. If he was perhaps telling his father that he wasn’t worthy of the position and to give it to someone who could truly protect the heir of the nation.

    Some fleeting part of him still believed his father might reject that. That the man he’d always looked up to so much would protect him and talk things through with him first. Find a solution for why he was feeling so weak and teach him how to work around it without shame lining each word he spoke to him. If he might once again feel like his father’s son instead of his favorite sword.

    Clive continued to work. The sun continued to move through the sky until it was hovering low on the edge of the horizon. The woods painted over with golds and oranges. The sky turned a brilliant red that Clive looked up to and thought of the Phoenix. The fire that was meant to be healing and rebirth. The symbols of Rosaria that nature reflected to them. It made him smile to see.

    His satchel was almost filled.

    From where he was crouched near a small running stream, Clive caught sight of a short clover not too far down the path. He couldn’t tell if it was a medicinal one or not from this angle. If it was then it would be the only one he knew of that he hadn’t yet collected. If he could gather these then he may be back before the night was over and he could begin his training extra early tomorrow to make it up to his mentor.

    Another shiver wracked through his frame and he couldn’t ignore the pain throughout his body. Breathing hurt. Blinking hurt. There was a pressure through his head that made it feel like he was going to pop from his neck like a cork from a bottle of wine. The round of coughs that tore through him this time left him half laying in the dirt and flushed. His lungs were grinding now when he breathed. He couldn’t make the sound go away. Something felt permanently lodged in his throat but any attempt to move it failed and backfired.

    He just needed to finish this task. It was one more flower and then Ambrosia would help him back and he could get the flowers to the physickers and sleep for the few hours before he needed to get up. He could sleep and he would be fine and come morning he would fix what damage he’d done to his family over the last week.

    It would be alright.

    Clive pushed himself upright to stand only for his legs to turn numb in seconds. His vision turned around him before black took over everything.

    He tried to walk. To take a step and get rid of the feeling like he’d done so many times before but all it served to do was send him falling. The ground met him unkindly. Hard and unrelenting and he was sure he was going to bruise.

    His throat clogged and Clive scrambled with numb limbs to turn onto his side to cough. He choked but nothing was getting rid of it.

    Nothing until a beak hit against his spine and cleared a hole enough for air to pass by. A wet and hard glob made way into his mouth and Clive retched. He heard the splatter of it on the dirt beneath him. He just couldn’t stop.

    Not until he was falling over and the world was still spinning violently around him.

    The sun was still up but he couldn’t see it. Smears of dark filled his entire range of vision. Laying on his back like this made it feel like a boulder was sat upon his chest. No amount of deep breaths were going to make a difference.

    He tried to move. His body didn’t respond.

    Dimly, he could hear Ambrosia stomping her feet and calling out. She was distressed even if she sounded like she was far away from him. He could feel her there. Her presence more than her actual body.

    He could rest out here for a while.

    Where no one was looking for him and no one was going to shout at him for being too lazy. He would have time. he wasn’t going to be expected back. His mother hadn’t made the task out to be so urgent that Joshua needed the medicine immediately. He could rest now and bring the flowers back in the morning. It was a small change.

    It would be okay.

    His eyes slipped closed. It was hard to breathe. Everything hurt.

    Had he not earned some rest?

.

    Rodney rubbed at his temple as he looked over paperwork for what felt like the millionth time. He was trying to keep track of everything the shields needed for their training and their work and read the reports of progress for each of the squires the palace was currently trying to train. Clive’s report was unfilled still on his desk. A week ago he would have filled it out with nothing of praises. The boy was bright. He was an excellent shield. Rodney had never seen someone so dedicated to protecting the ducal line and defending the heir. He’d never met someone who studied so seriously or took duty so earnestly. None of the other shields he’d ever known in his life volunteered for the chores in the way Clive did. All the chocobos in the stables practically adored him knowing that he was the one who brought them their morning and evening feeds and cleaned their stables.

    He’d never tell the boy, but Rodney had heard Clive talking to them more than once when he walked by. it was always sweet to hear his usually so reserved squire speaking kindly to the birds. To hear him tease them lightly when he had something he knew they wanted. When he would coo affections at them because he thought no one was around to hear.

    It was nice.

    Clive was often so reserved anymore. He never showed his heart like he did when he was a boy. Rodney could still remember the way he sued to run and play. How he used to smile and laugh. He wasn’t the only one either. Most of the shields had a sad look in their eye when they looked at their oldest Prince. Most of them vehemently disagreed with the way Clive was treated by his mother. The Lady Anabella and all her heart for power. Clive had been working himself half to death from the moment he heard his Uncle was going to be visiting and the witch knew it. Clive had been getting up earlier and earlier. He was taking on more work.

    This last week his pace screamed that he was giving up. He was being slow when he knew that he could be faster. He wasn’t watching in a fight anymore when Rodney knew that he’d taught him better than that. The carelessness that Clive had been showing this last week would get him killed in any kind of a real fight. If Clive was just giving up under the weight of his mother then he had to show him that wasn’t an option. That his duty as a shield was to keep fighting no matter what. He’d thought that his student understood that but he also knew that Clive was a boy still and he would need his reminders.

    That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to do so.

    He’d watched Clive retreat earlier this morning with nothing but silence after their botched spar was interrupted. He hadn’t had the chance to speak to him before he left but he knew that when he did come back they were going to need to talk about what was going on. If it was something he could help him with, even if it was telling the Duchess to leave the boy alone, he would do it. He could have words with Elwin about how Clive was being treated. He could set up a safeguard to ensure that he would get to spend time with his Uncle this time while he was there in the palace to visit. He knew that would mean a lot to his student.

    He was going to stay up until Clive returned. it was the only way to make sure his student didn’t bury himself into some other kind of task.

    Familiar stomping feet came hurrying back through the gates and Rodney huffed. Ambrosia had never been subtle unless Clive commanded her too and even then it was a debate between them half the time. He would never truly understand the bond between them but he was glad for it. He was glad Clive had a companion that was always at his side and always made him smile. He stood up and stretched. The cracks from his back made him feel like an old man enough to shake his head and sigh. If Clive was here he would surely have made a comment about it.

    Rodney moved to step outside only to come face to feather with the white bird herself.

“Ambrosia?”

    Clive wouldn’t have brought her here. He would have taken her directly to the stables to clean her down and—

    He didn’t see Clive.

    Ambrosia was stomping at him. Her saddle was still securely in place. Her squawks were distressed and urgent.

    Rodney understood too quickly what was wrong.

“Where is he?”

    His sword was at his hip. Ambrosia bent to give him space to climb onto her back and Rodney took hold without hesitation.

    A thousand scenarios rushed through his thoughts at once. If Clive had been attacked, if he’d been hurt, if he’d been killed, if there was poison that was slipped to him that took effect when he was out of sight from everyone else. Each thought came up worse than the last. He didn’t have potions on him at the moment. He didn’t have medical supplies he would be able to use if his student was hurt. Part of him wanted to come up with reasons for what was happening that didn’t involve his student dead or dying but he failed to see the logic in any of it.

    Clive would have never sent Ambrosia to the palace alone. She would never react like this if Clive was not in danger.

    She ran them through the woods and into the dark and Rodney cursed at the fact that he could see nothing. What light the moon offered to them was barely visible and he couldn’t spot any lanterns distant or otherwise that Clive would have lit to continue working by. He was trusting Ambrosia fully to get him to where he was needed.

    She came to a halt so fast she almost sent him flying off her back. Rodney climbed down and blinked to let his eyes adjust.

    He saw the shadowed lump on the ground but with the breeze blowing around them the clouds above moved and the moonlight grew brighter to highlight the scene.

    Clive laying on his back as if he’d fallen and rolled to the position. Beside him sat a puddle of red tinted earth.

    Rodney was at his side in seconds. He felt for his pulse and the rapid beat that met his fingers was rewarded with too short and ragged breaths that sounded as if the boy had breathed gravel rather than air.

“Clive?”

    Formalities be damned, he needed his boy awake.

“Can you hear me?”

    The boy groaned. Soft and weak. An exhaustion that gave way to confusion.

“That’s it, look at me.”

“Lord Murdoch…”

    Coughs ravaged his body and Rodney wasted no time in turning him onto his side in hopes it would help him breathe easier despite the wheezing he could hear from the boy’s chest. The more he touched him the more he felt the burning heat coming from his student.

“You have a fever. That cough isn’t good. How long have you had this?”

    He had the feeling he already knew. He should have noticed.

“Clive?”

    There was a haze in his eyes. He could see the way his eyelids drooped and with the coughing fit subsiding it seemed he had no other energy left to give.

“Stay awake. I need you to talk to me.”

“I don’t feel good.”

    His voice was hoarse. He sounded nothing like he had this morning and the thought of everything from the last week surged at him with guilt to bind his heart. He’d been hiding this.

“I know. You haven’t for some time, have you.”

    He already knew the answer but Clive nodded still.

“You’re going to be alright now.”

    He would make it up to him. He would ensure that he was safe. He would ensure that he could recover.

“I’m going to get you home.”

    He didn’t expect for Clive to protest. He didn’t expect for him to resist and reach for the fallen satchel he could now see a few paces away. It was open and spilled. Flowers had fallen out of it.

“Mother…Joshua..”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“He needs medicine.”

    He broke into coughs again. Harsh enough they sounded like they may be tearing apart his lungs. For all of the young Prince’s ailments, Rodney had never heard Joshua’s coughs as bad as this.

“You do as well. You need your temperature to lower. You should have been in bed days ago.”

    Clive groaned. One more check of his student showed his eyes closing again. How his energy was giving up on him.

“Hold on, Clive.”

    The more he said his name the more he might hear him. The more it might remind him that he was human. That he belonged and he was not a mistake like his mother called him so often. He and other shields had decided on that months ago. To remind him of the greatest thing he could be.

    Not a title, but himself.

“You’re going to be alright.”

    He lifted the satchel and secured it onto Ambrosia before lifting his student into his arms. Clive was limp against him and Rodney tucked his head onto his shoulder so he could rest.

“I have you now.”

“I’m sorry…”

    It drove a spike through Rodney’s heart. He sounded so young. He sounded so afraid. Like he was going to be punished for this. Like he was somehow at fault for this.

“Don’t be. This isn’t your fault.”

    It was his for not noticing. It was his for allowing his mistreatment to go on for so long.

“I’ll take care of this.”

    He got them onto Amborsia’s back. She wouldn’t be able to run with them like this but she would try anyway. She was stubborn. Just like her rider.

“We’ll talk when you wake up.”

    Clive whimpered against him. Rodney held him tighter.

“You’re safe, Clive. I promise.”

    They would make it back to the palace. They would make it back and they would be alright. He could get Clive to a physicker. He could talk to Elwin. He could ensure that Clive got the rest he needed and the medicine he required. He could make sure that he kept his position as a shield. He knew that Anabella would try to take it from him. He knew that she had insisted on the reports for the wellness of each of the squires. He would make sure he kept his promise.

“Just rest.”