theairlock | week 6

[Ardyn rolled his eyes at that, in halfhearted annoyance.]

Do what you will, if you think it might accomplish anything. I'm not all that interested.

Didn't think you would be. Not saying you're not invited, it's just definitely not your bag. You don't really do 'fun'.

[It was funny, wasn't it?]

[Not that long ago he'd been in this same exact location--all bright and sharp smiles, confident laughter, the impulsive and informal Ardyn instead of the halfway formal savior king. The sharp taste of cinnamon, the near-sensory overload of that dark cloud having been lifted off of his emotions, the satisfaction of seeing Church startled nearly off his feet and hearing the others laugh-]

[And now here he was, and so much of that was just dead. It hurt to even recall, in the dull and irritating way a long-healed broken bone might still ache.]

[It was funny to think that such a short time felt like so long ago. So why wasn't he laughing?]

...No. I suppose that I don't.

Hey man, unless you really want me to lube up the floor again and see how hard you can shove me. There's still a whole 'nother bottle I managed not to use, and one long hallway clear of debris can be good. You ever play shuffleboard? No, wait, what's the one on ice called? The Olympic sport. It's very Canadian. Curling! It'll be like curling.

[Ardyn does not have to stay to listen to Church while he rambles on and figures out which boozes might be tasty, mixable, and not crazy alcoholic. Was he trying to avoid Church, until Lusci came to the rescue?]

You could probably find fun if you looked for it, but your definition of it miiiight differ from the rest. Coping mechanisms, man, I am telling you, they make the world go 'round and therapists get paid.

...'You're much more charming when you talk less.'

[That was all Ardyn said, a pale and hollow echo of what had been far more sincere only a couple weeks ago.]

[Sure hope nobody wanted to drink that particular bottle of champagne, because whoops, there it goes right out of his hands. Time stands still for several extraordinarily long seconds, and his world tilts at just enough of an angle to feel a little bit dizzy.

When everything feels just right enough to remember he should maybe have a possibly better reaction than that, he tries for a laugh, first, which just ends up sounding like huffs of air with nothing behind it. At long last, he dares to look at Ardyn. Mostly Izunia. But, somewhere deep down, smothered in darkness and madness, also Lucis Caelum.]

There's...not a whole lot that gets me to shut the hell up.

That-...

[Just die. Drown, disappear, you don't exist anymore. The savior, the compassionate monarch, the mortal that once was should never have been again. And Ardyn Izunia just wanted to take those shards of humanity and grind them to dust, tear the ring from his hand and shatter it against the wall. Ardyn Lucis Caelum hadn't existed for millennia until this place forced him back into the light, and now...now who or what even was he?]

[Ardyn leaned forward with his head in his hands, every word sounding like it was tearing itself from his throat.]

...sounds like-...like a challenge.

[If he felt like he could pull it off without hurting himself, he'd vault over the fucking bar. As it is, he has a moment of horrendous panic, cold and sick in his gut. This--this is not Izunia. Even with the exhaustion, the only other times he'd sounded even close to this was arguably when he'd confessed to not knowing what to do, angry and confused and lost, and--

Please help me.

Maybe helping someone who is at least half a genocidal vengeful monster is going to get him killed one of these days, but damn if that's going to stop him now, coming around the bar so it's not in the damn way. Doesn't hesitate to press a kiss into Ardyn's hair and pull him into a hug, to tuck Ardyn's head under his chin and hold tight.]

[Why? Why was everyone showing him sympathy? First Lunafreya and then...then Noctis, of all people, had looked right at him with those damned blue eyes that matched Izunia's and-]

['This time, you can rest in peace.']

[Even hatred was starting to fail Ardyn now. The blazing, burning rage of two thousand years had begun to fade like the last embers of a wildfire in a forest burned black, leaving behind...leaving whatever this was. Whatever was half-formed from spite and the desperate desire to just let it end. Whether that was more Ardyn Izunia or Ardyn Lucis Caelum...he didn't know. He didn't know who he was or how to just kill whatever was still human within himself.]

[Ardyn froze at the sudden contact, but didn't argue or push Church off like his ordinary kneejerk reaction probably would have been. He was just...much too tired to even bother with the argument that would result.]

...you're making a mistake.

['When the prophecy is fulfilled, all in thrall to darkness shall know peace.']

[Yet the Chosen King had surely ascended, and here he remained in his own personal hell as something neither Starscourge nor human.]

Edited (spelling) 2017-06-19 19:06 (UTC)

Shut up, next I'm supposed to say touche, Your Majesty, but it didn't feel right without--

I--

[Words can't fail him now when he needs them. Or maybe he needs to stop trying and let the quiet take over. He is the King's Shield, whether either one of them likes it or fucking not. Doesn't know what all's left behind of Eos, who is all left behind--it's both unforgivable and yet so very fucking far away as to be akin to an abstract concept. He tries to summon up the fear and hate that comes with history lessons and the threat of alien annihilation, but he finds he can't. When he has Ardyn here in his god damn arms.]

I know. That it's a mistake. But it's made, and I can't fix it now.

You're certain to regret it, you know.

[That came out quietly; a simple admission of fact, with no venom or hate behind it. Ardyn didn't move to reciprocate whatever the hell this was, but for now the fact that it was still happening meant just as much.]

I know. I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid. It's not like I can shut it off. I might've made a decision, but it doesn't feel like I've got a choice.

Besides, there's a saying. To err is human. So. I guess by that standard we're both at least a little bit human.

That's your own choice. Don't start cursing me when it starts to backfire on you.

[He'd had quite enough of that.]

...This should have been over. Human, daemon, either way--I should be dead.

I mean there'll be cursing either way, it's me.

[He pulls away enough to look at him, but like fuck is he pulling his hands away. The touch-starvation might only have been in his head, but damn it...]

Yeah, maybe. We've already proved it doesn't matter here, in this place and crazy way in the future. Lotta people already dead just being here. You're not exempt from the made-up rules of this place.

... [His right hand moved as though he was going to pry off the hold Church had--and then he hesitated, hand dropping to rest on Church's arm instead.]

...I don't know who you're talking to right now. I don't know what I am or what's left after all this.

Then this is gonna be a fun--and by fun, let it be known I mean really, really painful--time of self-discovery for you until we get the fuck out of here.

Because someone's left enough to invoke ye olde kissing challenge of karaoke-off past, and someone's left to stay, and someone's here right now. Even if it's 'just Ardyn', or even if it's someone new.

[A low, tired chuckle left Ardyn at that, head dropping onto Church's shoulder in either complete exhaustion or something that passed for affection when one was completely dead inside.]

...I don't understand any of you. Why-...even Noctis wouldn't just hate me in the end. Why, when that's...so much easier than anything else?

You don't just hate someone because someone tells you you should. You really gotta get to know someone on a personal level, like on a 'live with every single god damn day' level, and then you pick out all the shit you should hate them for.

I mean, yeah, it's easier. Anger and hate are so, so easy. But if we all did what's easiest all the time, nothing would ever get done.

You're telling me you can't hate someone who ended the world? That Lunafreya couldn't hate someone that murdered her, or that Noctis couldn't hate someone who dismantled his entire kingdom and all that he cared for?

[He laughed again, hand gripping Church's arm like Ardyn was trying to convince himself this entire conversation was actually happening for how ridiculous it seemed.]

Hey, I never used the word "can't".

...I can't speak for them. And, yeah, ending worlds? I can hate that. I can hate that a lot. Of course I hate that.

The, uh, the aliens we're fighting back home. They've got this--we call it glassing. Orbital bombardment with plasma weapons. It leaves the surface covered in this sorta glassy substance, hence glassing. They blast every single last centimeter of a planet until there's nothing. They've done it. To colonies. Not just one or two.

So yeah, Ardyn. I can hate someone who ended a world. Fuck knows if anyone's still alive now that the Chosen Kid ended you. Maybe you really fucking did it.

Here's the point I've been trying to make ever since we realized there's a difference between you and your daemons. There's something inside of you that would recoil in horror at the thought of doing something like that. There's a part of you that would, in a fucking instant, take it all back.

I don't care how stupidly cheesy it sounds, there's a light in you, and that's the part I don't hate. And just maybe I'm not the only one that sees that.

[Maybe, he idly wondered, the planet wasn't utterly empty. Insomnia was dead, there was no arguing that. But he'd never really left the Citadel, so there was no way of knowing if every last outpost had fallen as well. Maybe they had. Maybe he wasn't sure if he cared.]

The light you're talking about...it went out a very long time ago. The only thing that brought back so much as a spark was this place and some inconvenient memory loss. [His hand dropped from Church's arm in favor of being brought hesitantly around his shoulders.] He doesn't exist anymore. I'm not-...he isn't...

Edited 2017-06-19 21:15 (UTC)

[Maybe this is why Ardyn was avoiding him, in some subconscious way. That some version of this conversation was bound to happen. And god damn it, since they didn't get it out in the morning, they're getting it out now.

Church slides his hands to frame Ardyn's cold face, to make sure there's no turning away from this, no hiding, not for either of them.]

I fucked up, okay? This whole thing, it's fucked up, and I've made some bad decisions, and I'm gonna own up to them. But this is where we are. Here is where we are. Like it or not, daemon or not, we give a shit about each other.

So listen to me for two seconds. It started out as a joke, but look where that got us--I'm the King's Shield, to the end of the line. You get that? The King's. Shield. If there wasn't a fraction of him left in you, somewhere, somehow, I wouldn't be doing this. I'm going to fight for him. I'm going to fight for you even if you don't want it, because I'm a soldier; I protect people. And I've been doing a shitty job of it so far because of all these circumstances that are completely out of our hands, but once upon a time, a man named Ardyn Lucis Caelum existed, and I refuse to believe that every last scrap of him is just gone. Maybe he's just part of this amalgamation that is you, that is just Ardyn, or maybe he's a flickering fucking spark, but he's there, and you're there, and I fight for the king.

Okay?

Just...tell me I'm making at least a little sense, because I think there's every possibility I sound almost a quarter fucking crazy as you feel.

Both of you committed too much to what was just a thoughtless comment. And yet you're a better Shield than Vandeae ever was, if you're truly going to believe that. [His voice was steady, yellow eyes focused without yet being cold or spiteful. For now, Ardyn looked like someone who was neither the Chosen King nor the hateful Accursed--he just seemed human, uncertain and tired.]

...he's still there. I wish it weren't the case, but something yet remains even now. The savior who was so loved, who thought himself the Chosen King that his people exalted and sang of the prophecy ending the eternal night...something of him still exists even now.

If anyone ever asks, I don't have a single fucking clue how this happened either.

[He's no good at hiding his expressions, because he'd never had to. So he's tired, yes, not nearly as much as Ardyn, but it's clear. But he's also relieved. To finally hear him cop to as much. To what he'd thought and insisted on all this time. He manages a little smile and an even smaller laugh, and leans in to press a kiss to Ardyn's forehead.]

I hope you don't mind that I'm pretty ecstatic to have him still there. It's...better, in my purely greedy-ass opinion, to have you, this whole if fractured you, than to have nothing but a daemon walking around in a fleshsuit. Caring hurts. You know that all too well. You'd think after Tex, I wouldn't bother, because that hurt. More than I can say. But I'm gonna keep at it. I mean, fuck, I don't have a prophecy dangling over my head, and the only people who could turn on me now are all here, so I guess you're all just stuck with my big fat caring ass.

I want it gone. I hate that there's anything like that still complicating all of this when it's complicated enough. Recalling the person that was struggling to worry about all of you for weeks, the one that taught Clarith that song, and especially the one that was in here with the rest of you that night, it's-...

[Painful.]

...I've been Ardyn Izunia for so long that feeling human now is almost worse.

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