Chapter Text
Somewhere, on the road to Cape Caem….
“I can’t believe I’m doing this, again.”
Next to him, Talcott grunts as he digs his shoes into the pavement.
“Doing what?.. Pushing a car?... When did you ever do that?”
He huffs as he explains how he, Gladio and Prompto had pushed the Regalia all the way to Hammerhead after it had run out of gas. Ignis had misjudged the distance between their last stop and the next station, which ended up being Hammerhead itself. Needless to say, it was a mistake they only made once.
“Come now boys, put your backs into it. At this rate, we won’t make it anywhere until well after nightfall.”
He grits his teeth at the extreme unfairness of Ardyn playing the part of Ignis this time.
“Would His Majesty… care to get his fat ass… out here and help us? -Ravus can steer.”
Noctis and Talcott are both down to just their shirt-sleeves but even with the ocean breeze they are panting and sweating. The Doctor cranes his head out of the window and gives him a pointed look.
“I dare you to find more than an inch of fat anywhere on my body, let alone my posterior.” He sniffs. “If anyone is in danger of getting soft in the middle it would be you, O’ Tiniest King. -Your diet is abysmal and your regimen even more so.”
He ducks back into the car, calling the rest out through the window’s opening.
“One cannot rely on the vigors of youth forever. I daresay the sweat of this endeavor will only do you good.”
Noctis plants his hands on the trunk. His bark of laughter more like a cough.
“Always the short-jokes… That the only come-back you got?... Must be going soft in the head.” He turns to his fellow beast of burden. “..Where’s Ravus?”
Talcott wipes the sweat from his face before looking around.
“I… don’t know…. He was supposed to be… up ahead… flagging someone down…”
Ardyn makes an amused sound from the cab and calls out: “I can see our Prince. -We could perhaps overtake him if the two of you decided to put forth some real effort. Chop, chop.”
Talcott and Noctis both roll their eyes, almost in unison.
They go back to pushing for a bit, before the Accursed makes another observation.
“I don’t think he knows what he’s doing. He’s only using his thumb. I can’t imagine that’s very good at getting someone’s attention, don’t you think?”
That makes the both of them pause.
“Using his thumb? What-”
“-He’s hitchhiking. That fucker…” He turns to Talcott. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Ardyn squawks as the car lurches forward with greater speed than he was expecting. They ignore his cheerful ‘That’s the way!’ as they hoof it closer to where their fourth passenger is once again trying to ditch them.
They stop within shouting distance and Noctis wastes no time, calling the other out.
“Oi, what the hell Ravus?! Get your freakishly-tall ass over here and help, you bastard!”
He whips around instantly, his current task forgotten. They can hear a chuckle escape the cab.
“Oh my. That certainly got his attention.”
The blond begins to stalk over to them, face thunderous. Sore, sweaty and out of breath, Noctis is not impressed. He’s usually the one that does the placating but he’s just too pissed off at the moment.
“Um, Noct. You should probably arm yourself.”
He squints at the King’s Aide. Noctis carries a gun now that he doesn’t have an armiger. He’d prefer a sword but actually wearing one is cancer. Once he’s back in Insomnia, he’ll talk to Cor about getting a blade like his. Slim and elegant, it’s a better alternative to carrying the wide, flat blades he’s used to.
“-What? No. I’m not shooting him, what are you even—"
Ravus is almost on him before he realizes the other has his sword drawn.
“What did you just call me?!”
He dodges the swipe on instinct, stepping away from Talcott whose daggers aren’t a match for a sword wielded by the former High Commander, well-made or no.
“Shit. Take it easy!”
He’s pretty sure Ravus is not seriously attacking him, because if he was, he’d have already gotten in multiple kill-shots but Noctis is barely able to keep ahead of him even so. As they awkwardly dance around the car, he can hear Ardyn laughing inside. Eventually he calls out:
“Not to worry Noct. I’ll patch you right up—it’ll be like you never died!”
*
Sometime during the scuffle, Talcott had gotten fed up and called Aranea to pick them up. Noctis wants to hug him, sweaty and gross as they both are, but he can’t move aside from his head, which lolls slightly every time there’s light turbulence.
He’s not looking forward to explaining to Ignis why the Crown has been billed a premium when they had a perfectly serviceable car at their disposal, but at this point it’s whatever. -They’re almost to Altissa anyway. Now they don’t even need a boat.
He knows that he tried to offer Ravus a direct air route to Altissa but he refused. Which is why Noctis insisted on going with him, which is why the rest of them are there. Because apparently, he still requires a sitter. And whatever the hell Ardyn is supposed to be.
Noctis doesn’t understand, especially after his outburst about instant-warping, why Ravus wouldn’t just take the airship offer but watching he and Aranea edge around each other like wary animals has given him a bit of insight. -Thankfully Ignis had taken care of telling her about them and their newly-living status. He’s pretty sure it would have gotten ugly if she had been surprised.
He feels the weight of someone’s gaze and cracks both eyes open. Ravus is staring at him from across the shuttle; his look intense but… not angry he doesn’t think.
He wonders if, after the other man is settled, they’ll ever meet again. He certainly doesn’t seem like he’d want to but Noctis still has dreams where he can hear him calling out to his father; desperate and afraid. Can hear himself pleading as well: “Dad! We have to go back. It’s Ravus, we have to go back!”
Of Luna, impossibly small, running back through the flames of her burning city.
He wants to say something but Ardyn is next to him, close enough to hear anything even over the sound of the ship’s engine and Talcott the same distance from Ravus on the other side. Maybe he should just let the Queen’s letters speak for him. For his father. He still hasn’t given them to their rightful owner. It.. had never been the right time.
He lets out a breath and leans back. If he’s lucky he’ll be able to sleep for most of this part. Bonus if he falls asleep on the Doctor, which will be more awkward for him than it will be for Noctis. Because unconscious.
He doesn’t see the other narrow his eyes at his bared throat. Nor does he see his entourage take notice. Instead he punches Ardyn lightly a few times in the side which causes him to put down his reading and ask, with fake politeness: “Noct. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Nothing. I’m fluffing you.”
That makes the older man blink at him for a second.
“Fluffing, what—no. We are less than an hour from our destination and I refuse to sit here and be a receptacle for your drool. Fall asleep on me and the consequences will be dire.”
Ignoring the warning, he scoots a bit closer to the older man and hunkers down. They are basically crammed into the tiniest shuttle he’s ever seen, likely due to the fact that Talcott had called Aranea ‘auntie’ where the rest of them could hear. -Ravus’ startled chuff of laughter has so far been the highlight of his day.
“For a healer, you’re pretty squeamish about body fluids. -How is chocobo shit ok, but drool isn’t?”
The other man huffs.
“Because it’s yours. I’m warning you, Noct… You will not like what I do if I end up damp.”
He makes an amused sigh as he relaxes back into his previous position. The man beside him is talking a good game but also hasn’t tried to move away, despite having the room to do so.
“Yeah, yeah. -Why don’t you tell me a funny story? You know, to keep me awake.”
Ardyn hums in consideration.
“How about the one where I pushed you off the bench onto the floor? -Will that serve?”
He snickers before forming his face into a pout.
“You’re so mean. -Fine, go back to whatever boring crap you’re reading. I’ll take my chances.”
Noctis hears, rather than sees the other man pick up his periodical, presumably to do just that.
“As his Majesty commands. -May you stay ever wakeful, for your own sake.”
His huff of amusement is the last sound for a while, save for the occasional flipping of pages and the ever-present hum of the craft’s engines. He manages a doze, but never quite makes it into a full nap, despite the day’s exertions.
Hilariously, Talcott ends up nodding off against Ravus; much to the younger man’s horror when the bump of their landing finally wakes him up. The former Commander rolls his eyes at his sputtered apologies before stalking off the ramp, into the bright afternoon sun.
Noctis makes a show of swiping at the Doctors shoulder and rubbing his fingers together.
“Would you look at that. All those threats, for nothing. Bet you feel sad.”
The other man scoffs before tucking his reading under his arm and getting up to follow. Talcott is stretching the stiffness out of his limbs and thus can do little but yelp as Ardyn suddenly turns and shoves Noctis off the bench before casually strolling down the ramp himself. The Aide immediately bends down to help him.
“So I’m pretty sure you had that coming. -Is there a reason you keep antagonizing them? I mean, less than two hours ago Ravus was coming at you with a sword. Are you some kind of fear junkie now?”
He takes the proffered arm and grunts as Talcott pulls him up.
“That would require the fear part, which I don’t have. -You want to wrangle those two? Because I am so ready to pass the torch on that one.”
Talcott drops his arm like it scalded him.
“Not it! -Ah ha haaaa—no. No way. I’m good, thanks.”
Noctis makes a show of straightening his clothes, which have become stiff with dried sweat. Gross.
“Well then don’t question my methods, scrub. -Let’s get out of here before ‘auntie’ gives us the boot.”
The sudden crackle of the intercom overhead makes them both duck in startlement.
“Call me auntie again, you little twerp. -Get the hell off my boat before I give you a boot up the ass.”
That’s sufficient motivation for them to both scurry down the ramp but not before Noctis calls out:
“Thanks for the lift, auntie!”
Aranea must gun the engines hard because the tiny ship leaps into the air almost as soon as their feet hit the ground. It wobbles a bit before evening out, the ramp and door closing but not before the intercom blares again.
“You’re lucky this thing isn’t armed, you shit.”
Then the craft is gone, and Noctis is standing amidst what would normally be the standard turn out for him but is actually for Ravus—who is still a Prince. Next to him, Talcott gives him a disbelieving glare.
“Dude…”
He shrugs. Weskham, who has scraped together a respectable reception in the scant few hours of getting Talcott’s call, gives him an amused look before turning his attention back to the returning Prince. Noctis walks over to Ardyn, who is wearing his default placid smile, glamour firmly in place. The three of them cluster together, off to the side while Ravus receives the honors that were once stripped from him by the very invaders he chose to serve.
He knows it’s a small, insignificant thing next to the fact that his family and ancestral home are both gone forever. But as he bends slightly to accept the crown Weskham has brought, Noctis thinks this might just be enough.
There is a smattering of applause once he straightens, which he heartily adds to. It’s not an official ceremony; that will probably be had later once they settle on something they can tell the public, but he is glad enough to be witness to it.
It takes a nudge from Talcott as they follow the small procession to realize he’s grinning like an idiot.