revivalproject | [Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

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[Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

WHO: Gladiolus Amicita, OTA
WHERE: Gladio's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: June 10th to July 10th
WARNINGS: One possible memory set involves death of a father.

Another year, another really creepy sleep meeting. Who would have guessed it? At least Gladio's room isn't nearly as large this year as it was last year. It's still a large space though, a room made of black marble shot through with white veins, with walls of white stone accented with gold and gray. Really, there's a whole color theme going on, with nearly everything being in one of those four shades: black, white, silver, gold. Honestly, it fits well with the complex uniform of the same colors that Gladiolus was wearing as he moved through the space, inspecting the contents.

What it's definitely got a lot of contents to inspect. There is no denying that this room is an armory of sorts, the walls lined with swords, shields, armor, even guns. Many things are almost identical in appearance, many of them marked with motifs of skulls, or a figure surrounded by blades. Clearly some sort of important iconography going on, right down to the subtle repetition of it on Gladio's own uniform.

"Haven't been here in years," Gladio observed as he moved up and down the racks of weapons. He did pause as he looked through some displays though, inspecting what he found there the best he can. "Feels like an eternity."

Perhaps it had been. Some weapons, here and there, seem rusted or broken, when viewed from the corner of the eye. But that's something else, something unimportant. Don't think about it too much, it's probably better that way.

Gladio moves through the rows and racks to a table with some specific weapons laid out on it, and he pauses, looking at them. Among them are a gun suitable to a smaller hand, a sword that almost looks to have engine parts in it, a large silvery spear, and a large shield ~~cw: death of a father~~ emblazoned with an eagle. Nearby them rests a metal arm, perhaps a prosthetic.

"Haven't seen any of these in a long while either. Wonder why they're here. Don't think any of them were ever armory pieces. Personal arms never ended up in the royal stores after all."

With a sigh he turns his attention back to the stores here. "Not that the royal stores aren't good quality. Can you believe punishment duty was counting this stuff?"

[OOC: For Gladio any memory taken will results in two segments of memory playing out related to similar content. An alternative exit is to talk to interrogate Gladio about the whys of the armory, punishments, or why he'd even have access to it.]

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When Link arrives in Gladio's dream, he immediately sets about inspecting the whole place. He looks at the black marble, the weapons on the walls, the iconography.

But he drifts back towards Gladio, looking at the weapons he's laid out on the table. The gun gets a faint look of confusion - it's not a weapon he's ever seen before. As does the arm, which doesn't look like an actual weapon.

He looks at Gladio. "Your weapons?"

Gladio notices Link when addressed and offers a shrug.

"I'm trained in all of these but guns. The shield is a specialty of mine, but that's not one of mine. These arms, though, are those of the royal retainers of the most recent king of Lucis. Well, the sword is the King's, and the shield... it was my father's."

These were important things. Very important things.

"Guns are...these?" Link asks, reaching out to the unfamiliar weapon. It's the only one he doesn't know, so it seems a likely candidate.

He points at it, but his fingers end up coming a bit too close - close enough to touch.

Yes, it is that. And the touch means the room is gone, instead replaced with a rather high end apartment. On the couch sprawls a young man with a game controller in his hands. On the nearby big screen is a shooter game with a zombie theme, and the blonde seems really into it.

Gladio, sitting nearby, just sighs and shakes his head.

"Seriously, why play these sorts of games? It can't be remotely like actually shooting," Gladio says, a younger Gladio. A decade younger with less scars and shorter hair and way more lazy, arrogant confidence in how he sits and smirks.

"It's for fun, Gladio," the blonde says, laughing. "Don't you understand fun? I mean, come on, you're not supposed to be Ignis levels of bad Mister Shield."

Young Gladio rolls his eyes.

"I know what fun is. It usually involves bars."

"Yeah, except didn't you get grounded from them?"

"Not grounded," Gladio dismisses with a wave of his hand. "Just not allowed to let you or Noct tag along, not after what almost happened last time."

His fingers come up to brush over the scar cut into his brow.

Then the space fades and the same blonde sat next to a fire, older and more tired looking. Gladio as Link would know him sits next to him, feeding a log into the fire. The place where they are is a campsite on an outcropping of stone with all manner of pale blue glowing runes are cut into it.

"You know what I miss?" the blonde asked as he played with a digital camera, shifting through pictures.

"Hot running water always available wherever you go?" Gladio asks once the log is balanced properly. "Or perhaps Ignis cooking for us? Not having to spend twenty hours clearing out dungeons of daemons in hopes that we can find some more ancient writing for Ignis and Ravus to decode?"

The blonde snorts in amusement.

"I mean, yes to all of those things. But your garula steaks are getting better. Has Cor been teaching you? Anyway, not exactly those, but those too. No, I miss video games."

Gladio laughs as he reaches for a metal skillet and puts it by the fire.

"Really? Video games? You mean shooting your way through daemons all the darkness long isn't pleasing you? Come on, we're basically in one of those zombie modes of yours."

Then the blonde sighs.

"No, it's just... It's the having simple fun. It's the being able to restart when something goes wrong. It's being able to set it down and walk away, and then coming back. And more than all of that. It's that games can only be made when people have leisure time. So, you know, when the world isn't ruined."

His hand gestures to take in the world around them, but with how dark it is one can't see much further than the limits of the camp site. Which is impressive because there are also large halogen lights hooked up to a generator nearby, with wires running off into the distance.

"Yeah, I miss that too," Gladio says with a sigh. "A lot."

And then the memory fades, leaving them in the armory once more.

At first, it's the video game that provokes fascination and interest from Link. There's this strange screen, with these pictures moving on it. And the blonde man seems to be influencing what's going on in it somehow, with the little device in his hands?

He's all set to ask Gladio about it - but then there's that next memory. And even though Link's never seen this world, and has no idea what's befallen it - he recognises something in this world, all the same.

"...Your world's Calamity," he says quietly, when they're back in the armory again.

"Calamity?" the finely dressed Gladio asks, clearly intrigued by the word. "Explain?"

"Calamity Ganon," he says. Though it's maybe not the best explanation. "It ruined the kingdom."

Ah. That seems like something similar enough.

"The Starscourge, guided by Ardyn Lucis Caelum. It ruined our world. It created a time we know as the Long Night."

"I'm sorry."

He knows how hard that must be. And yet at the same time, he also can't fully relate. When the Calamity struck, Link ultimately didn't survive it. While everyone else was struggling to live through the destruction, Link was in the Shrine of Resurrection.

The destruction was still there when he woke, one hundred years later. But he missed that acute period of chaos and upheaval.

"We're going to deal with it," Gladio says. Promises himself. "Take out the Starscourge, purify our star, and kick the gods out of interfering with our lives."

And his Noctis will live and rule, and Gladio will be his Shield. But he also hopes he won't remember his time here. He doesn't want to remember having what he couldn't.

Link just nods. He doesn't offer any words of reassurance. They're not the sort of thing he's good at giving. And besides; words alone don't mean much anyway.

But there's still something in his manner, in the way he regards Gladio. A nod from one soldier to another. Link understands what it means, to have a gargantuan task set upon your shoulders. He knows that failure is always a possibility - but you still have to have faith and confidence, in your ability to win.

Link might not have any words. But Gladio has his silent support, all the same.

More than just one soldier to another. One knight, sworn to the protection of their royal, who would do anything to save them and the world.

Still, he feels it. They're alike in some ways. Kindred spirits even. And different in others.

"I think my friends would appreciate you."

"The friend with the...games?" Though from the faint frown on Link's face, the 'video games' part of the memory was something that he didn't really understand just yet.

"Yeah, that's Prompto. But Noctis might too. He's here with us, in Temba. Ignis isn't."

And Link hasn't seen Ignis either.

"Ignis, he's sort of a warrior like us. But more intellectual and 'proper'."

"...Don't know Noctis." He might be in Temba, but Link hasn't met him yet.

It's at this point then, that Link's attention drifts back to the array of weaponry. The gun might have drawn his interest first - but that doesn't mean he's not curious about the others.

Particularly that arm. Link wanted to know more about that.

"What is...?" He asks, reaching out towards it.

Gladio doesn’t stop the touch any more this time than he did the last. And so the memory comes of a day and a man in white and purple with mismatched eyes and who bears that same mechanical arm. There’s clear threat from that figure, one that Gladio tries to put himself in front of Noctis to take onto himself.

Which is of course when the title comes out. Both of them. Sure this is obviously a younger Gladio and Noctis, but it won’t be hard for Link to connect this vision to older Noctis should they meet. Here is a king, and his protector.

And when that memory fades another comes. Once again the time difference is spelled out in apparent age, and this time Gladio stands with the same white clad man who also looks older and now sports a short beard and mustache. They are together in a fancy room painted in pale blue and accented in white that speaks to wealth. But the windows are boarded over and the lights are very low in the room.

“It will work,” Gladiolus was insisting with intensity. “Ten years we’ve been working toward this, ten years with the greatest surviving minds and Ignis’s burning intent. And you’re advising caution now? Weren’t you the one that tried to kill the gods before they could bestow power on Noctis, just to save your sister’s life?”

Ravus sighs and shakes his head. “I do not advise caution for the path we have chosen. As you rightly indicate, I fought fate as hard for Lunafreya as you do for your king. My caution I offer for another reason, Amicitia. I see what drives you, and it is not merely the devotion and brotherly care mixed with defiance of fate that drives Scientia, or the need to rectify the sins of his bloodline in Argentum.”

Gladio growls and pushes to his feet at that.

“He’s like a brother to me too. I was raised knowing I would die to keep him from all harm. If that means dying to kill gods and fate alike, then so be it. But I won’t let him be a lamb to the slaughter.”

Ravus laughs and shakes his head.

“He has proven he is no mere lamb. The sacrifice he chose when we saved Scientia from his own makes that clear. And you dodge my point with the artful grace of all nobility such as we are. But do not think you can hide your heart behind your title, Shield of the Chosen King. For there are two outcomes to this battle against Bahamut, and while we have won the Abomination himself to our side, your great battle is not against the gods or the crystal or even the fate you see before him. Your battle shall be harder, and that is what I warn you against.”

Gladio glares, hands clenched into fists at his sides. But something in his face says he knows what is coming next. What Ravus will say, and he doesn’t want it said.

“If he dies as fate calls for, the world is healed and you lose him. If he dies and does not defeat fate we are all doomed and you lose him.”

“He won’t die. I won’t let it happen.”

“And still you will lose him,” Ravus counters, but his look is pitying now. “You will lose him with each day you stand at his side as he ruled and rebuilds the world as the True King of Light. You will die as he finds a new bride and binds his life to hers. You will do your duty and die a little as you know you must account for his heirs and so you must have your own. There is no victory that secures what your heart desires.”

Gladio scoffs at that.

“Like I haven’t known that for years. It doesn’t matter. As long as he’s alive that’s all I need.”

Ravus offered a shrug, and the memory fades.

The first thought Link has, as he watches the memory, is that everyone in Gladio's world seems to wear an awful lot of black. (Do they not know that they can wear other colours too? Don't they get bored, wearing the same colour all the time?)

That thought soon passes, though, as he watches the confrontation unfold. One that stops short of real violence, even if the threat hangs over everything. There's a faint flicker of surprise, as he hears how they address Noctis - your majesty.

Gladio's royal charge. He hadn't realised.

Then there's the shift to the second memory, and Link is...confused. The man in white was an enemy before, but now - years later - he seems to be an ally? One who is trying to give Gladio counsel? The web of relationships here is something complex, something beyond Link's ability to understand.

"You fear losing him," Link says, as the memory ends. It's not a statement of judgement. It's one of understanding.

Link knows exactly what it means to fail. To lose someone you care about.

He left Zelda to fight the Calamity alone. It wasn't his choice to do so, but he did.

In their defense, Gladio and the others were in the royal colors of Lucis, which just happened to be black, silver, and gold. Surely that is carried across in the uniform and in this room. As for Ravus, well, he was echoing the same for Tenebrae.

"Ravus is right," Gladiolus says. And he looks older and far more tired. "The Noctis here, he's from another version of our world. The only way I will ever be able to embrace the man I love is in the echo of him. He's not my King, I am not his Shield. And so we can merely be Gladio and Noct, like he will never have and I will never get."

He looks almost annoyed.

"Ravus will be right."

Maybe Lucis needs better royal colours. Link never realised how lucky he was that the royal colour of Hyrule was blue.

Though there's another way he's lucky. He knows what it's like to have your life dictated by fate...but there's something painful about Gladio's fate in particular.

"...I'm sorry." Perhaps he should tell Gladio to ignore fate, to do what he wants anyway. And yet he can't do that. Link might have thrown out much of the norms and expectations that bound him when he emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection, but he was still a Knight. He still knew that duty wasn't something that could just be set aside. Not when the lives of so many depended on it.

Gladio was already fighting the fate of his world with all of his heart. And Noctis, the one here... he had already lived the timeline where they failed to fight fate.

"As am I," Gladiolus says with a sigh. But he runs his hands over the uniform he wore now. "The Shield of the King, the head of the Crownsguard. His life is in my hands. Every scar I bear I gained for him. And I don't regret it. So long as he will be happy I will find happiness just knowing he'll get to live. He will get to love."

He shakes his head.

"It's the duty I was born for."

Link nods. Perhaps someone else would try to argue against it, to say that maybe fate will turn out differently from what Gladio expects. But for Link, it's simply a duty he understands.

He has the same duty, for Zelda.

(Though duty isn't the only reason. He wants to protect her for her. Not just her royal blood or the sealing power she possesses. Maybe once in that time he still doesn't remember, it was just about duty. But not anymore - not after everything they've been though.)

He looks out at the other weapons. They'll show him other memories, he's sure now. But he's not reaching out to see another one just yet. He waits - perhaps for some kind of sign. Maybe to see if there's one Gladio wants him to see.

Oh yes. Gladio could understand that motivation in Link. The same was true for him. And would always be so.

But the memories were enough. A door is forming behind Gladio, one that opens out onto more black and gray marble. Link could leave, if he wanted.

"He wouldn't want anyone to know what he is. He just gets to be a man here. Please."

Surely he could trust the honor of another knight.

Link looks at Gladio. He's seen how the weight of her position weighed on Zelda. How it shaped her, how it dragged her down and amplified her struggles. He has no desire to put that same weight on someone else.

(He doesn't think on how a similar weight dragged him down, before the Calamity. Made him clam up, turned him from someone quiet and of few words into someone who didn't dare say a word. You don't have to be royal to have a position that comes with expectations.)

So he nods. There was never any question that Link would agree, really.

And leaves through the door, giving a quick "Bye" before he goes.

Gladio nods and watches the young man go. What else can he do? The room dims and fades.

Noctis entered Gladio's room but he didn't touch anything because he recalled something like this happening last year. So he just slowly approached the other as he looked around.

The weapons and the black marble brought back so many memories that he wished he could take this Gladio there, even if that would cost him. Well, saving the world had a price as that anime said - something about equivalent exchange, right?

Smiling as he came to stand beside Gladio, Noctis nodded. "This stuff brings back a lot of memories. Time spent sparing, and you thinking I was a spoiled little kid."

Noctis. Seeing his King Gladio stands straighter, looking at Noctis and offering a respectful bow of his head.

"You were a spoiled little kid," Gladio points out. "Just not in the ways I thought."

"You don't need to bow to me." Noctis replied softly, although he realized when he talked to Iris in the hotel in Lestallum, he too had sat up straighter and more stiff as if he were on a throne.

It had been a weird time all around like this was.

There was a slight teasing grin at the words and there was a smile in his eyes. "So does that mean you're planning on telling me how you thought I was spoiled?"

"You are more than just my love, you are my king. I will always have cause to bow."

Especially here in the part of his mind where the Shield was at the forefront.

"I don't think that sort of old memory needs to be dragged out, so you?"

Noctis inclined his head to the side as he heard that Gladio would always have cause to bow. Okay well if they were back home, he were alive and court was in session or other important people, he'd go with it.

Here, they were nobodies which was kinda nice.

So he signed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I guess not."

"I'd rather you not see me when I was... more foolish," Gladio admitted with a sigh. "But I won't keep anything from you if you wish it."

Because he would always give to his King's needs. His love's needs.

"Foolish?" Noctis asked, a little puzzled. "Foolish wouldn't be a word I would use to describe you."

Reckless yes such as when he took off on the group even if he understood the why, and never held it against the man.

Taking a few steps forward, Noctis smiled and placed a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "No, you do what's right by you. If you don't want to talk about something, we don't have to."

Except he was. He was a man in love who would surrender it.

"You have Al of me, my King, my Love. Whatever you want to see is yours."

Even if he ends up embarrassed."

Noct's hand slowly slid down Gladio's shoulder and off of it as he spoke. And here the king had been trying to show his shield respect.

Noctis himself bottled things up and tried to be strong and carry on. He recalled the very first battle, and the king had been eager. Gladio on the other hand wanted to show him how it was done.

Along their journey Noct silently took the blame for everything that happened to the guys, shouldering the guilt all by himself. He wished he was stronger so that he could protect his guys, even if at the same time he knew they wanted to protect him with their lives.

In the end, he hoped somewhere that his death repaid them for their loyal service. They were, as he'd told them, the best.

But now he just shook his head. "Then why don't you start with showing me the feelings that you hold back all the time."

"The feelings I hold back all the time?"

There had been so many. Such deep secrets held for so long. There was so much.

"There are... a lot. I have kept so much, to keep from burdening you."

Noctis gave Gladio an 'I'm waiting' sort of look as he sighed. He himself was a bottler of emotions and he knew the shield did it too. With every passing day here he was more and more grateful that he had another shot of at life even if it was still weird to have at times.

"I know." he said softly, feeling guilty regarding the other man. "But you're free here. There's no kingdom to defend, no one to hide it from anymore."

The king looked up at the shield. "And you don't need to hide it from me or even yourself."

There is no kingdom to defend, only his king and his heart. But the statement earns a nod and with a deep breath Gladio reaches up. He starts the complex task of removing the garb of the King's Shield. They were fancy clothes as any high ranking nobility might have, but also designed to be easily pushed aside or torn off in the case of battle.

That doesn't mean he's going to just tear it off. It's a slow process but he works off the cloak, the coat, the vest, everything until the skin of his chest is bare. The tattoo that marked an Amicitia heir seemed almost to stand out more than normal on his skin, the lines more vibrant, pulling as if... as if they were like any other memory object.

"My feelings are written on my skin."

And a touch would bring Noctis to them.

Noct's dark blue eyes widened as he saw Gladio taking off his garb. He was so caught up and fascinated by what he was seeing that he just swallowed hard, wondering the shield was doing.

Quietly and nervously he watched, not wanting to interrupt whatever ritual the other was attempting to accomplishment. Once the bare skin was showing, Noctis clenched his hand into a fist so that he didn't reach out to touch.

Something between shock and fascination drew the king slowly to stand directly in front of Gladio, a few mere inches away. And then he reached his now unclenched hand up and touched some of the lines, while looking up into his shield's eyes, with an unspoken question about consent lingering there.

Of course there was consent. Noctis had asked, and Gladio was freely giving. And with the touch the room around them fades. Poor Noctis was going to get treated to not one concise memory, but a rush of them. Of the night when Noctis had helped Iris and Gladio looked at him a little less angrily. Or moments before and after training sessions when Noctis was a teen where Gladio's gaze may have glided a touch improperly over his charge's form when Noctis wasn't looking. Subtle gazes across rooms during balls Gladio was serving guard duty for, or chuckles that went on just a breath too long when Noctis made a joke. Soft smiles in the tent when Noctis rolled over toward him while no one else was awake, or Gladio looking aside from his book in the back of the car to brush a bit off hair out of a napping Noctis's face.

A thousand little moments of desire and affection, all restrained, all kept away from prying eyes. All privately held in Gladio's heart. And then one more.

This one forms more fully than the others, dropping Noctis into Clarus's office at the Citadel. Regis's Shield leaned in a surprisingly casual way against his desk, something he only ever did around his son or his closest friends and never around his Prince. Gladio sat tensely on the couch in front of his father. Younger Gladio. Gladio without hints of the tattoo peeking out under his uniform.

"You are certain you wish something so large?" Clarus was asking his son. "I will admit the process can be... painful. The larger you aim for, the longer the whole thing will take."

"I want no question to ever come up about what I've sworn to," Gladio tells his father, firm commitment in his voice. "You know what people say about the Prince."

Clarus huffed, almost as if to say 'were you not the same way before you knew him well?' And a single noise like that made Gladiolus look down at his feet, clearly chided.

"There's... talk," Gladio said at last, still looking at his feet. "His advisor was chosen at such a young age and is a more or less foreigner, even though he grew up here and the Scientias have served loyally for a good while. People say that the King chose a child because he didn't expect anyone older would do the job. And we've all heard Noctis is withdrawn at school. Everyone forgets that the King and his father didn't even go to something like a private school."

Unlike Gladio. The Amicitias were sent to private school rather than being tutored like others in the nobility.

"Everyone keeps turning everything against him, even though he's trying to fit in, trying to be part of the world. If I'm seen as having anything less than utmost confidence in my role then people will have less faith in him."

Clarus sighed and shook his head. "That is a rather politically nuanced opinion, son. Did Ignis put you up to this?"

Gladio was immediately on his feet, young and fiery and bristling.

"I'm doing this because it's right for Noctis. Because I'm going to be his Shield and I'm going to protect him. And the world better see now that I'm not backing down, that I'll never let him down."

It didn't matter that even now he sometimes doubted how prepared for the throne Noctis was. He was still going to protect the young man.

"An Amicitia is a shield between their monarch and the world. And a shield works best when it's displayed. So yeah, Dad, I'm sure."

Clarus sighed, shaking his head.

"As you will. But don't expect me to fuss over you when your new tattoo starts itching everywhere."

The acceptance earns a smile and a nod from Gladio.

"You know that once you're properly marked as the Shield..."

That took the wind out of his sails. Gladiolus winced at his father's statement, at how it hung in the air between them.

"I know," he says. "But I'm standing by my decision here, dad. I won't consider marriage until after Regis abdicates for Noctis. Someone has to look out for Noct and having a wingman around doesn't hurt."

His expression said otherwise. It hurt to try and play that role for Noctis, which is why he had done it so rarely. And his father's expression said he quite understood. In fact, Clarus moved from his position to rest a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I know," Clarus says, his voice softer than normal. "With how we live our lives so closely with theirs, it's almost impossible not to come to love them. But I promise you that with time it gets easier. This is our place in their lives. The wall between them and those they love and harm."

Gladio huffed. It was easy for his father to say.

"But I'll respect your decision. I will... ensure that overtures are gracefully set aside for now. Better not to make enemies by being too rough. In the mean time, I'll set up the first appointment. Now, you better get going. Don't be late for your training session with the Prince."

And then the memory faded, leaving Gladio alone with Noctis in the armory.

Noctis was absolutely fascinated and entranced. When he had been in they crystalline cocoon he never saw any of this. And it downright boggled his mind. He saw all of the stolen glances, the tender smiles the other guys couldn't see, and the Shield kept it all tucked away, without a word to him.

Well of course, there had been the whole marriage to Luna situation and the deal with Niflheim.

Resolute, the king watched the scene play out with Clarus and he had never seen the man act or speak so casually so it was refreshing, kind of like when Cor spoke to him about the day that he was born and his father's dealings that day.

Noct noted the tension and his dark blue eyes widened as he heard the words Clarus spoke to Gladio. Had his father known how Clarus felt? Would it have made a difference somehow? He found his mind racing with so many unanswered questions, and then as soon as his mind somewhat caught up, the dream or vision was over.

Noctis then looked up at Gladio with his mouth slightly open, his mind racing with some more questions. But, they didn't matter, did they? Somehow he felt like crying and clenched his jaw in some small attempt not to do so.

It took him a moment or two, but when he thought his voice wouldn't betray him, Noctis shook his head, speaking almost like a child who was confused.

"All that time?"

"All that Time," Gladio says, his voice a whisper. "For you always."

And he knows it feels good to know that this was absolutely out between them now. "Apparently it's not uncommon for the Amicitias."

Noctis felt squishy inside and out. Half of him still wanted to hear some made up story as to why he wasn't told before but he damn well knew the reasons. All had their parts to play in the story regardless of anything else.

So his dark haired head lowered and stared at the ground feeling defeated. His hands were clenched into fists so that he could attempt to keep his emotions in check even if it felt as if they were falling apart at the seams.

Focusing on what he could focus on, the king spoke. "I wonder if my Dad knew. I wonder..if it would've made a difference."

If he was now speaking about his father or the two men present now, Noctis couldn't even answer the question.

"No," Gladio says, shaking his head. Because it's not ever going to change just who the Amicitias are and what they would be. "No I don't think it would. Dad loved you too, Noctis. If he knew where it would all end up, he'd have still agreed to your father's plans."

And it's just who they are. The fact that Gladio could break the chain to be like this was entirely the circumstances.

Noctis sighed. Somehow all of that guilt and weight remained on his shoulders. But it was a burden he willingly carried because so many gave their life for him and in the name of what he would do and become.

Deep down he knew it could've all been another heir along the way, but Noctis was the one who'd been chosen by the crystal.

"I'm sure he knows by now how your Dad felt." And the pain of guilt still ran deep at hearing that Gladio's dad loved him. "Since you've been here, have you tried to talk to him at all? Your Dad I mean. Do you think he can hear you or see what's going on?"

Tried to talk to them? Gladio grimaces and looks past Noctis toward the door that has appeared. A way out. One he can't take. But his king and love has asked, so he finds he must answer.

"No. I never tried, after... after. Lingering on is something for your family, and that of the Oracles. Not for Shields."

Well, except for Gilgamesh, but whatever, he doesn't count.

The king sighed. He didn't even know if that was possible even for him here. But he thought he might try anyhow. Here he wasn't really dead, and he wasn't sure how all of that worked.

He quietly spoke to his own father from time to time as had been custom on Eos. And he only got to see him for a few moments, especially as his father's sword plunged into his chest.

"Fair enough." the king replied, in his usual quiet tone. But his eyes had followed the Shield's gaze and looked at Gladio. "Do you want me to go?"

"Only if you promise to come find me when you wake," Gladio says with a warm smile. "Maybe I want to make sure you see all the ways I love you."

Was he going to use a chair to keep his room door closed and maybe be a bit more physically attentive in his affections? Yeah. Working out could wait until later.

His mind just flew out the window at hearing such an open declaration like that so he blushed a little. "You'll be the first person I look for."

As if Gladio wouldn't ever be.

"I'll get going then and I'll see you later."

Gladio smiles and nods at him.

"Yeah. I'll look forward to it, my King, my Love."

Noctis had started to go when he heard those words and turned around a moment.

He really wanted to stay but knew it was better to get out of this place.

"I'm going to have you repeat those words."

And slowly he forced himself to get out of there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Calibrations] My Heart Is An Armory

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Included is link for first memory, it has subtitles. I can still summarize if you want, just message

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