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“So…” The outgoing captain of the Crownsguard, formerly of the Kingsglaive until the straggling team was dissolved and merged into the larger force, cleared his throat. His peppery brows were drawn tightly between his perpetually severe eyes though age had since softened them. Which was kind of funny considering the various missions Cor the Immortal had led during the Long Night…or maybe it was something else? Maybe it was his inability to face the four of them who sat with him in the long table, all of them watching him expectantly. If he should ever deem it appropriate to his station, Gladio wouldn’t be surprised if his hand would come up suddenly to scratch his temple.

Which it wasn’t—at least not if you were the marshal who carried himself with so much pride and dignity, even the threads of his underwear must be holding it together with their shoulders back or something. After another deep pause that seemed to blend in with the heavy quietness of the dim council room, Cor finally went on and finally told them what this was all about: “So to make the long monologue short…the reason that I must step down from my post is that I am getting married. To Lord Ravus Nox Fleuret.”

The sharp tap of his pristine resignation letter, as it fell onto the smooth surface of their ebony table from the fingers of the stunned King Noctis, was the only thing that dared disturb the compelling silence of the room. Even Gladioʼs jaw had come unhinged at his revelation, his eyes frozen permanently to the shape of coins.

It took exactly two-and-a-half heartbeats before Prompto would dispel the awkward reception with a ringing, “WOW,” followed by him surging up from where he sat to Gladioʼs right and grasping a fierce handshake with their old marshal. “You finally did it!!”

“We had no doubts you would pull through, marshal,” Ignis added smoothly after, clapping politely with gloved hands. He wore a smile that almost looked proud as he regarded the bashful Cor to his left. “Finally, congratulations!”

“Gladio,” Noctis whispered loudly to him, trying not to seem too obvious even though he was listing dangerously close to his Shield, “what the hell did I just miss?”

“You’re asking me this now?” Gladio replied in a low voice. Two years had passed since the return of the Dawn and while a lot of progress had already been made in rebuilding a united world, much still had to be accomplished. In terms of catching Noctis up with the events of his 10-year slumber, the same could be said of it. If he were to estimate just how much knowledge Noctis had already absorbed of the decade he missed, Gladio thought he would just be scraping at the first year and half of the next. If he was being optimistic.

So this shock from the king was completely entitled to him. “Think it started maybe at the 5th year of darkness,” Gladio proceeded to brief him while Ignis and Prompto were keeping the boyish ex-captain occupied with well wishes and demands for any photos he might have on his personage right now. “Tenebrae was getting completely overrun by daemons so the marshal went off with a squad to help with evacuation. It went about as well as you might expect but we did manage to get everyone we could across the ocean. Since then, Ravus started volunteering himself in missions so he and the marshal worked together a lot. And then…” He directed his hand towards the same marshal presently in the room with them.

“A great loss to the Crownsguard,” Ignis was saying. “But truly, we could not be happier for you and Ravus.”

“Yes,” Noctis attached quickly enough, finally getting up to reach for a handshake. “Congratulations, Cor.” He’d always been good at pretending he knew what was going on.

Gladio thought he was the same—the survival guy with his survival instincts and all—but if there was anything he learned from this news, it was how dreadfully clueless he was. Though he tried not to show it when he smiled at Cor, clasping his hand firmly, and asked him, “So when can we expect a formal introduction?”

“Heʼs still sorting some matters of the state but he expects to be aboard the ferry by tomorrow morning at the latest. So perhaps this coming Friday if our plans go well? ” Gladio couldnʼt believe it but the marshal was actually glowing like a godsmas light! Was he really so damn blind? He’d never seen his former mentor cheer up like that until now! “In any case, he should be here by the start of the next week. There will be much yet for us to discuss for our wedding and time is running short.”

“When are you both planning to get married, anyhow?” Ignis asked.

“The following weekend,” Cor answered without missing a beat.

“Already?!” Prompto practically screeched the same word that caught itself in Gladioʼs throat, causing him to choke. In their friend’s shock, which felt like a representation of all of theirs, his voice somehow managed to regain some of its youth, or resembled the sound of a knife grating against the smooth stone wall of the council room. To his left, Gladio caught the king clawing at the stunned Ignis’ shoulder (he could practically feel all those questions cramming inside his own mouth) only to be swatted off with an automatic hand.

“Well, you must understand—” For the first time in the history of Cor being Cor, he allowed himself to expel the slightest of sighs when he began to explain…defend? His fiancé and their decision. “—Ravus is ruler of Tenebrae and especially at such delicate times, a people cannot be left without a leader. You all know this, of course.” They all nodded—all of them, even the king. Once upon a time, he had been their mentor. “And Lucis is not the only one seeking to rebuild fully.”

“So the wedding takes place in a week’s time,” began the clueless king who would be expected to wed his former soldier to his former rival despite it, “and…you’ll be sailing to Tenebrae with him…soon…?”

Cor nodded. “We hope to be in Tenebrae two weeks from now.” Gladio nearly choked again. Their schedule was tighter than what he was feeling in his chest right now. “So…I’m very regretful to be springing this all on you all of a sudden.” Oh, he had no idea…

“You know, Ignis, if you’re so curious about how they fell in love, you should totally just go and ask them. Aren’t you and Ravus close?”

“I wouldnʼt say we are close so much as we have come to respect each other from a comfortable distance. And stop implying that I am distrusting their sincerity with each other,” Ignis laughed, his hand moving smoothly to flick the signal right as they slowed down the upcoming intersection, which glowed white in the black evening. “Itʼs just…” He snorted handsomely, if that was a word that could ever be used on that kind of noise. “Come now, Gladio, surely even you must be curious about the minutiae of their relationship!”

“I’m not.” He was, of course. But Gladio liked teasing Ignis who rolled his eyes at his blatant lie. He smiled widely and snickered at his reaction.

“You would have me believe that you have always seen it in the two of them to one day set aside their duty for the sake of love and life?” A knowing smirk dressed Ignis’ face as he glanced at his passenger briefly, and for a second there that must have lasted for an hour, that was the only thing Gladio could see. That sharp tilt of his lips felt like a hook that captured his heart, and the only thing Ignis needed to do to reel it in was to breathe and to exist next to him. “Cor the Immortal who spent nearly the entirety of his life serving two kings and Ravus whose love and devotion to the late Lady Lunafreya is unmatched even by Noct himself?”

“Yeah, but,” Gladio spread out his left palm to explain his point as Ignis rounded the corner smoothly, rolling into a dimmer, quieter section of the Crown City, “duty’s duty but love’s love, y’know? You’re the dutiful sorts.”

Ignis tilted his head to him, pressing slightly on the gas. “Why thank you, Milord Shield.”

“But even a guy like you sets aside his Sundays to complete his cookbook. I mean, if you love something or someone, you just gotta go for it, y’know?” Easier said than done, of course. Gladio was lucky he wasn’t facing a mirror when he said that.

But at least Ignis giggled, and his smile spread out like butter to a starry beam that pushed his eyes up into crescent shapes. If Gladio hadnʼt caught himself on time, he might have swooned right in front of the man who had the honor of being called his crush. And that would have put him in a difficult place to save his dignity from. He's been like this for maybe about a year or so now.

(Though if he really cared to admit it to himself, he’d been like this for maybe half his entire lifetime already. It just came in waves and hilariously, it was always the same guy at the receiving end of his admiration. Well, like he said—duty’s duty but love’s…)

“I suppose it’s a fair reminder,” Ignis’ voice, smooth like warm liqueur down his throat, only more potent, snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him right back to his handsome profile, glazed by the golden godsmas lights of Insomnia at night. “Love is love…indeed, we still have a duty to fulfill but I suppose the difference now is that we find ourselves in the unique situation of…quite simply having survived the end of the world. Love…” He smiled again, and now its distance reminded Gladio of the stars they used to sleep under. He used to collect poetry books that were full of them when he was still a lovesick youth. “Well, we deserve that, too, do we not?”

“Yeah.” Ignis deserved that, Gladio thought, as he memorized this dreamy aspect of Ignis in his head, as if he would never see it again.

“If you think about it,” Ignis went on. He was in a talkative mood tonight. Then again, since the Dawn returned, it wasnʼt often that he caught the reappearance of the serious strategist from the past anymore. “The marshal and Ravus are some of the lucky ones, are they not?”

“The lucky ones?” Gladio shifted in his seat as he straightened up, looking closely at his driver and his secretive smile, keeping his eyes on the empty road. “What’s this, Scientia? You looking to fall in love this godsmas?”

Ignis laughed, a pure sound that unearthed itself from deep within his chest, leaving its mark on the size of his grin. “I suppose Dawn makes fools of us all.” No kidding.

Or no, who was he kidding? If Dawn made everyone stupid, then why wasn't Gladio still the idiot confessing his feelings for Ignis yet? In the past, it was easy enough to wave his duty around to excuse himself from his half-baked commitment, even to his own face. When the Long Night fell, it was the most convenient thing to delay any personal enterprises until Noctis came back. But now that he was back…and it had been some time since…

“I see you haven’t confronted Scientia about your feelings yet, Gladiolus.”

After the quick meeting in the council room where Cor formally announced the end of his career with the Crownsguard, he insisted that he and Gladio begin to sort through the work he would leave behind immediately. Gladio should have figured that the marshal was also negotiating some personal time with his personal student when he said that.

He pulled at his ear, clearing his throat. As if that helped him come up with any pretty lies about his ineptitude. “I know I said I’d do it on sunrise but you know, we had to start rebuilding and then one thing led to another…”

Cor sighed. “Figures you would use that line again.” They spoke in quiet voices to match the empty corridor they crossed on their way to the marshal’s office, but Gladio still winced at the jab as if Cor had chosen to bark the accusation instead. “So what is your next plan of attack?” Whichever name he ended up taking, he was still the marshal.

“Well,” Gladio rubbed his nape, his eyes suddenly too heavy for him to lift from his shoes, or the slats of the early afternoon sunlight falling onto the dark polished floor, “when that didn’t work out, I promised myself I would do it before you and Ravus tied the knot.” Cor coughed at his revelation. Which was pretty much the same reaction he had earlier on his. “Thought I still had time but…”

“What should I say to that? Surprise?” When Cor frowned at his sheepish glances, Gladio was reminded fully of the man who had taught him how and helped him to be a Shield. “Whatever your reasons were for using Ravus and I as a time limit, I will allow you the benefit of the doubt. But now you know that you only have less than two weeks on the clock before you either fall on your sword, or come up with a more believable excuse.”

What a way to chastise him just because between the two of them and of all people, Cor Leonis was the one with a love life and not him. “Yes, Sir,” Gladio muttered obediently to his former mentor.

“So, what will you do, then, Gladiolus?”

“Huh?” Gladio neglected to check how dumb he looked when he turned to the man addressing him with a serious frown.

“Will you walk the path of the hero or the weak?” he proceeded to challenge him in a way that only he could. “Will you continue to delude yourself with wishful deadlines or will you finally prove yourself to be worthy of Ignis whose affections you seek? Perhaps you are used to waiting and seeing but you need to remember that a relationship requires at least two people.” Those silvery brows furrowed deeper. “And the other one may not be as patient as you hoped he might be.”

Of course he wanted to be the hero. He’d said as much to the marshal when the choices were thrusted to him. But as with many things, saying it out loud was one thing. Putting his money where his mouth was was entirely another.

In the quiet of his apartment, Gladio could catch the tiny ding! of the microwave even from his bedroom balcony at the second floor, where he had been moaning and sighing about missing another opportunity to tell his feelings to Ignis. In socked feet, he navigated the minimalistic stairwell down to his kitchen.

Carefully, he brought out the plastic bowl of tofu and minced meat in sweet soy sauce over rice, and delivered it safely to his coffee table at the other side of the room, dressed in blue where the evening fell through the windows onto his deep gray lounge set. Since he never spent much time at home, anyway, much less invited anyone over to his empty living space, he never found a reason to invest on a proper dining set. After all, he had spent the last decade of his life without one, having to fit himself into a glorified broom closet, a premium real estate in a town that could already hardly breathe. Even the large space of the Amicitia mansion felt to him like a vacuum that would one day lose him, which was ultimately what drove him into this tinier, if still luxurious apartment. He’d always been the kind of guy who made-do with the barest minimum he had, even before the Long Night.

Figures he would still be single, making do with his loneliness and his excuses when he could simply gain the courage to finally man up and face Ignis after all these years. Gladio pulled his hair tie off his characteristic half-pony, combed through his long locks as he navigated his phone until he ultimately ended up in his phonebook, staring at his friend’s name.

Well, Amicitia? he asked himself as he brought his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it and kneading the skin some. Is that the best you can do? Is that all you’re good at?

The answer would be yes, of course. He had faced all sorts of daemons and devastations during his heydays as a hunter but it wasn't like he won his battles by declaring his love for a Red Giant. And if he cried out of anger, others cried with him. This was different!

Now you know that you only have less than two weeks on the clock before you either fall on your sword, or come up with a more believable excuse, Cor had warned him. Boy, he was doing it again, wasn’t he? Maybe he should have asked the marshal when might be a great time to make a fool out of himself. He really got smart about love back there.

I suppose Dawn makes fools of us all, Ignis had mused while he was driving him home. Smiling distantly, a secret tickling him. His handsome vision was enough to set Gladioʼs heart on a swinging mood. Gods, but he really liked him…

You know what? Screw this. Figures he would take the advice of the royal advisor. The Hand of the King himself! Looks like tonight was a good night to be the idiot with feelings. With a brave and deep breath, he pressed Ignis’ name on his list and brought the phone to his ear.

What should I tell him, though? A good question to ask himself when the phone was already ringing. Classic Gladio. For a second there, he hoped he might be safe from the effects of his own stupidity and that Ignis would be too occupied (or asleep) to pick up his call.

But then he heard him answer with an energetic, “Gladio!” And then he was sitting straighter, as if the man could see him in his old trainers littered with pilling cotton. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He didn't often call, after all. But why would he when Ignis was his crush?

“E, erm—” Gladio pretended he was clearing his throat by actually clearing his throat. He brought his fingers to the long scar across his chest to scratch a phantom itch. “I just uh…” Called to say he loved him? Wasn’t there a song like that? Anyway, that would be weird. He needed to find something more relatable to the two of them, maybe something that had happened that day. “I just wanted to um…thank you.” He cleared his throat again. “For driving me home tonight.”

When Ignis chuckled, Gladio felt keenly the desire to physically pat himself on the back. He was still alive, somehow. “Please, you know I always enjoy your company in my drives,” he replied. “Besides, it’s hardly a burden when I pass by your apartment on the way to mine, anyhow. Have you had dinner?” Would he ask him out?

What a dream. “Yeah, Iʼm,” he glanced at his forgotten tofu rice, “just having it. I got tofu rice. You?”

“Please don’t tell me you bought that from the convenience store again,” Ignis sighed.

“I wish the YRP near here still has it at this hour,” Gladio snorted, laughing quietly. “I got it from the mall basement,” he was forced to reveal after Ignis’ silence.

“Gladio,” Ignis groaned. “If I knew you would be subsisting on microwave meals again, I would have invited you over to my place.” That made him blush. Of course Ignis would be the kind of guy to do that, and they were close friends. Have been through thick and thin. But thanks to his stupid crush— “Do you not have a kitchen in there?”

“Yeah, but,” Gladio spread his hand, “Iʼm hardly home. Seems stupid to stock up with food when I donʼt much like to cook, anyway. Thought you might be happy I’m eating something other than cup noodles for a change.” He was teasing him again.

But he loved to tease him. “Small miracles,” Ignis muttered.

“Well, what about you?” Gladio asked. He was just delaying the inevitable, yes, but also he knew his manners. “What did you have?”

Ignis sighed again. “I ended up steaming fish with ginger, sesame oil and soy sauce.” For him, it was probably an offense against his refined palate to settle with something simple but Gladio was already salivating at the sound of it. “I got caught up searching for a wedding present for the future Leonis-Fleurets, I neglected to think about dinner. You called just as I was putting everything together.”

“Find anything good, at least?”

“For a Lucian couple, yes. But for a Tenebraen-Lucian couple moving to Fenestala Manor in two weeks time, I’m afraid I feel a little daunted by the challenge.” This was bad, then, Gladio thought. He knew Ignis wasn't one to just freely admit things like that unless he had no other choice. “I don't know what it is that they have and do not have there, and yet if I give them a memento of Lucis, I fear it might ostracize Ravus. And we have had enough of that in the past.”

“Nah, I don't think it’ll go that badly,” Gladio tried to reassure him. After all, that bad blood between them and Ravus had been brought on by the empireʼs involvement anyway. But having faced off with the man once who’d been hurt and furious at the death of his sister, going so far as to threaten the very king’s life, he wouldnʼt take it against Ignis to still maintain some wariness with him. Wouldn’t even be surprised if that history might be making it difficult for him by making him overly cautious. “Want me to help?”

“…look for a present, you mean?” Ignis ventured after a beat.

“Yeah.” Gladio shrugged, tossing a hand. “You know, two heads are better than one,” or so the saying goes. “Besides, we’re not so bad at teamwork, you and I. We might surprise ourselves with something nice.” Did he hear what he was saying? When did he get so smooth!

“Hm, well, there is certainly some merit there,” Ignis thought aloud. “Very well. I think this will be a good plan.” Gladio pumped his fist in the air. “Why don't you share me your calendar for the next two weeks and I will see how our schedules can work?”

“Sure, sounds great,” Gladio grinned to an imaginary Ignis in front of him, getting comfortable on his couch. “If you want, we can go this Saturday.”

“Ah, I’m afraid that is the date for Ravus’ welcome party.” Oh, it was? “And we won’t have much time away from the king the next day either.” Ignis hummed. “Well, in any case, I’m certain we’ll find a way. There is hardly any problem that has no solution.” Count on Ignis to remain confident and level-headed (while he just outright panicked). It made Gladio smile. “Thank you for offering your help, Gladio. I’m…really looking forward to it, as well.” In that same moment, Gladio felt his entire world almost literally grind to a halt.

And for an eternity, that was all he could hear echoing in his head: Thank you for offering your help, Gladio. I’m…really looking forward to it, as well.

“I—s, sure!” he said when he pushed his world to spin again amidst the heat pooling around his ears. Gladio shifted in his seat, sitting more properly. “Just…just let me know, then.”

“Certainly. It’s a date.” A date! “Well, it’s about time I ought to be having my dinner. Thank you for calling, Gladio. Do have a good evening.”

“Hey, yeah. You, too.” Gladio waved to his voice. “Night, then.”

“Goodnight, Gladio.”

As soon as the call ended, Gladio flung his phone to the cushions and sang out a sharp hoot as he struck his fists upwards into the air and fell back to his couch. A date, they had a date! Whenever that was but, it was a date! On the one hand, he failed miserably again tonight to tell Ignis how he felt for him.

But on the other, things like this were always best done in person, right? And they had a date. Whatever could be said of his incompetence tonight, nothing would ever change the fact that he had a date with Ignis Scientia.

As with many things in Gladioʼs life, he started to treat this date as though it was another trial to conquer in his path as a Shield. And what does a Gladiolus do to make sure he gives a fight? He trains for it, prepares for it.

“Gladio!”

And hopefully starts winning for a change. As soon as Gladio had stepped into the majestic ballroom, one of many hidden smartly inside the Citadel, Ignis’ voice was the first thing that greeted him. Like him, he was dressed formally in his Kingsglaive suit, standing out just a little in a crowd full of dark robes and gowns. It was that kind of party where only the highest of the highs of society were invited to be in the presence of their honored guest.

“Hey.” Gladioʼs smile was automatic when he met with his friend just near the door. “Iʼm guessing I’m just in time.”

“Noct and I just arrived ourselves,” Ignis shared. “He’ll be with us soon, though, following a few formalities with the Tenebraen entourage. You look good tonight.” He fiddled with one of his buttons until it faced him the right way.

“Yeah?” Gladio shouldn’t be grinning like an idiot, most especially not when his crush had just complimented him, but there he was, anyway. And lighting up like one of those decorative lights that surrounded the black ballroom to boot. Until even he was glistening and sparkling like everything else around them was. “Good thing this thing still fits me, then.”

Ignis chuckled, bringing out that smile that always tickled the butterflies in Gladioʼs stomach to life. “It would indeed be a shame if one of these buttons should pop at the worst time. They are made of good silver, you know? Could fetch a decent price in the market.”

“Thought we’re past picking up buttons for spare change?” Gladio snickered at the reminder of their youth. “You telling me all that rebuilding’s drying up our treasury?”

“I must admit, I often still catch myself jumping with excitement when I find a stray coin on the ground.”

If Gladio hadn’t controlled himself on time, he was pretty sure his laughter would have completely overpowered the live piano playing from the corner. Ignis joined him briefly before he stifled them both with a finger on his smile, casting his eyes mischievously about him before anyone looked at them funny. Gladio loved that he had this thing to share with Ignis, though. Somehow, it made him feel special.

“Anyway,” Ignis cleared his throat, his good mood persisting despite it, “I wanted to say that I saw the pamphlets you emailed me last night.” Which was to say, Gladio had gotten his attention by doing his homework and sourcing out possible ideas for the Leonis-Fleuret wedding present with the help of his extensive network of acquaintances. “And…” He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes to the level of Gladioʼs lapel as he continued, “I…well, I truly appreciate the work and the thought you are putting into this matter.” Deep breaths, Gladiolus.

He tried to grin as charmingly and with as much disaffection as he could, even when the music had gotten completely taken over by the pulsing in his ears. He couldnʼt say it was working because his cheeks were starting to hurt and he couldn’t come up with something cool to say to that except, “Yeah, they ain’t bad, huh?” Who was it who said he ought to teach a masterclass in romance? “Anything catch your eye?” He crossed his arms to get comfortable, and to pretend he wasn’t vibrating just a little bit.

“Indeed.” Ignis started to raise his hand to his face but pulled it back to his side in a snap to square his already-square shoulders and tilt his chin up, causing Gladio to stand a bit in alarm. He was aware of this habit, of course. It was only recently that Ignis’ eyes had completely healed from the Ring’s magic and he could finally walk around without support for his vision so it would understandably be some time until he got used to that. Gladio wasn’t sure why that would cause him to blush, though, when he was the only guy who’d caught him slip. “I find myself quite interested about the works of that hunter-turned-craftsman friend of yours.”

“Oh yeah, they’re pretty great.” Gladio nodded with his shoulders, showing his agreement of Ignis’ appraisal. Then again, Ignis could have dropped any other distant friend of his and he would have reacted in much the same way. “If you want, we could totally drop by their workshop for a little chat.” Once again, Gladio stunned himself with how smoothly he produced those words with his own mouth.

Though he forgot all about them when he found himself staring at Ignis’ eyes, which reminded him of emeralds with the way they caught the lights and seemingly sparkled. “Why, yes, I would love that. Shall we go after lunch?” Lunch—?!

“Y,” Gladio choked in his own voice, “yeah, um…yeah—yeah, sounds good.” So much for being smooth.

“Brilliant,” Ignis beamed, reflecting the very word on the whiteness of his teeth. Gladio felt his heart melting, prayed desperately for the strength not to turn into a puddle right in front of his crush. “Then, shall we go at—”

“Our esteemed lords and ladies,” a sudden figure, dressed in the uniform of the Crownsguard, stood rigidly by the sealed double doors right across the room, addressing the crowd with his large voice, “His Majesty the King Noctis Lucis Caelum, 114th in his name, arrives with His Grace, Lord Ravus Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae.” Talk about bad timing.

Though he didn’t have enough time to feel bad about it. “Here they come,” Ignis said, grasping Gladio lightly by the muscle of his arm to turn them to their king. He probably didn’t think much of it when he reached for him, he thought.

But to Gladio, and his simple heart, that little friendly touch was enough to make his entire night.

The doors opened slowly to polite applause, revealing the king in his regal garb, flanking their guest with Prompto on the other side. With a gesture of invitation, Noctis led the way into the celebration.

The future Ravus Leonis-Fleuret followed closely after his host, dressed in the characteristic white color of the Blood of the Oracle. In a sea of ebony fineries, he floated past the happy crowd like a will o’ wisp, bright enough to blind anyone who stared too long at his imposing figure. Every part of him was an alien to the bleaker Lucian tastes.

Well, everything but the man who marched a step behind him, in his own Kingsglaive outfit, nursing a quiet smile to himself while Ravus engaged with certain people important enough to approach him for a handshake. He was the perfect picture of stillness and patience, of blending in to disappear. All those lessons Gladio tried to learn from him but sooner gave up on.

The only time he ever moved was when Ravus wrapped up his pleasantries and sought a familiar hand to hold instead—specifically his. Despite how unwavering he had been a few days back when he had told them of his wedding date, though, Gladio could easily tell that this was a gesture Cor was yet to get comfortable with. There was a palpable moment of shock back there where he had to see their connected hands himself before he could believe that his fiancé was holding him, and then after that came the most embarrassing smile of the night, as if he was torn between expressing pure joy and remembering his reputation as a tough warrior.

Gladio had to wince at the effect. “Guess there’s bound to be some things even the marshal doesn’t know…” He turned to Ignis. He’d planned to punctuate that with a brief chuckle but decided against it when he learned that Ignis wasn't paying attention to him in the first place.

Those dreamy eyes saw nothing but the couple in the center of attention, sharing a private conversation that brought hesitant smiles to both their faces. It had been days since he’d learned of their marriage and Gladio could still hardly believe that the both of them could somehow find forever in each other.

But Ignis looked like he was thoroughly convinced of it, and that he had found a forever in them, as well. A smile ghosting his face, brows arched just slightly, just enough to feel while his eyes, the darker cousin of pastel green, seemed to moisten and glitter as he watched…

If Gladio didn’t know any better, that look he had in him was what the dictionaries called wistful.

“Well, Gladiolus,” Cor began, “I can finally formally introduce you to the man I have the honor of calling my future husband—Lord Ravus Nox Fleuret.”

“I must confess that it continues to surprise me that even Lucians can stand on so much ceremonies,” Ravus shared as he reached for Gladio. This was probably the first time Gladio had seen him without his usual battle-worn aspect. His snowy beard was freshly trimmed, and there was neither soot nor wrinkle on his pristine garb. Even his metal arm looked like someone had lost sleep just buffing it to an inch of its life until even Gladio could see his reflection on it. “I mean nothing by that observation, of course. Simply that it continues to interest me that us Tenebraens and you Lucians have more things in common than the war let on.”

“Well, you gotta admit,” Gladio sealed their handshake, “the marshal isn’t like most Lucians.” He gestured to the man stepping back to his fiancé’s side. “Figures it’ll take an extraordinary guy like you to convince him to settle down.”

He knew he had hit the right note on his former enemy when those lips turned up again with a quiet chuckle, and Ravus’ brazenness flickered momentarily when he glanced at Cor who nodded to him, sharing his good spirits. Where was this kind of confidence when he needed it with Ignis? “You do me too much credit for a man who has wronged you.”

“Honestly? All I remember is the guy who brought us to Ignis at the nick of time,” Gladio replied, crossing his arms. Terrible times those were. “Just glad we could put all that behind us.” He brought his hand to both him and Cor again. “You’re both starting new lives.”

“I suppose it is symbolic,” Ravus agreed quietly. “I only wish…” Then he sighed, the weight of the world rolling out through his breath before he distracted himself with the glittering lights overhead. “No, I do apologize. I vowed not to turn this happy occasion into something tearful.”

“Sylle,” the way Cor whispered the word to him as grasped him warmly by the wrist, Gladio realized in a fright that he wasn’t meant to hear it. But what could he do if his mentor had taught him to keep his ears and eyes sharper than his sword? Now he could catch the ghost of mourning on Cor’s frown, and the broken smile that Ravus tried to hide when he nodded slightly to his future husband.

“Dear heart,” he replied in equal silence. Oh, because the sylleblossoms, the flowers of zeal, were important to the line of the Oracles and Cor’s name meant heart. Damn, his mentor just kept showing him up, didn’t he? Where was that wandering champagne tray just now?

Before the long pause got too awkward, Ravus finally cleared his throat and began with another apology. “I meant to say that…I only wish my dear sister Lunafreya were here to witness this. On top of the burden she carried on her shoulders for the world, she worried about my happiness, as well.”

“Yeah, I miss her, too, even though we haven’t even met before,” Gladio shared, reaching out to clap Ravus on his metal bicep. “But even when we were on the road, it felt like she was traveling with us, yʼknow? She may not physically be here,” he hazarded a tiny smirk, “but I know she’s still with us after all this time. Count on it.”

The smile Ravus graced him with felt a little more courageous following that sentiment. “Thank you, Gladiolus.” And that was probably the most earnest way he had spoken to him with.

Cor started to speak, drawing both their attention to him—only to be interrupted by another voice that had caused a little heart attack in Gladio who had been caught off-guard. “Marshal.”

He might have snapped a little too eagerly to the Glaive marching to them, as if the entire ballroom was his catwalk. Gods but Ignis really looked good whatever he did.

Ignis nodded to Ravus with a polite smile and then him next. Gladioʼs infatuation told him that those twinkling emeralds lingered a second longer on him before they addressed the marshal who turned to face their visitor. “Forgive me for the intrusion but His Majesty wishes a private audience with you.”

“Something the matter?” Cor asked.

Ignis shook his head. He glimpsed briefly at Gladio before he continued, “Nothing worth troubling our guest of honor.”

Cor visibly deflated at those words, the tension seeping out of him through a careful exhalation. “Very well, then.” He turned to his fiancé who looked on with slightly furrowed brows, taking his hand to squeeze it briefly, lest anyone in the room catch on about their love story. “Ravus, I won’t be a moment.”

“I’ll keep ‘im company ‘til you get back, marshal,” Gladio reassured him, tipping his head slightly towards their VIP.

Cor nodded to him. “My thanks, Gladiolus.” Then to Ignis, he mumbled, “Shall we?”

Ignis obeyed with a little bow, first to him and then to Ravus as he excused them both. Gladio was already smiling like an idiot when Ignis cast him one of his own, dipping his eyes as he started to lead Cor across the room until they blended into the sea of black silk.

Gladio might have lingered on Ignis’ back for a second too long, before he reminded himself that he had a guest to entertain. “So uh,” he turned to Ravus whose eyes were in the same direction his fiancé and Gladioʼs crush took off to, “good talk with Noct?”

“Have you spoken to Ignis about your thoughts of him yet?”

Gladioʼs words withered in his mouth, completely blindsided by the Tenebraen’s concern in his love life. “I uh…” Well, he didn’t know what went on behind closed doors between him and Cor but he wouldn’t fault the marshal for sharing this much to him. “W, well, I was just getting to that.”

But whatever it was he thought of them, no part of him prepared him for the look of discontent Ravus cast on him, which may or may not have reminded him frighteningly of the other future Leonis-Fleuret. “Just? I certainly hope there’s a reason for this.” Wait, was he accusing him of being slow?

Gladio let out a heated huff as he tried to school his own upset off his face. Ravus’ eyes darted back to the crowd and snapped wide open at the same second he seemed to stop breathing. Gladio whirled to search for the object of his attention.

Cor and Ignis were still navigating the crowd, barely in any hurry, enjoying themselves in a peaceful, private conversation that brought the marshal’s hand up to his former subordinate’s back. So far so good.

Gladio returned to Ravus, about to ask him what phantom it was he’d seen, but stopped himself when he caught a familiar frown darkening his old enemyʼs expression.

“So…what was it that Noct wanted to talk to the marshal about?”

Ignis responded with a laugh, quiet and a little airy across the line. Gladio heard the soft whir of the coffee machine in the background, the quiet radio playing the morning news. All sorts of life his apartment was otherwise bereft of. “Just some pointers for the wedding,” he revealed. “This is the first time Noct will be officiating in his capacity as a king, and on top of that, it wonʼt be the usual Lucian variety we are used to. We must make room for Tenebraen traditions, as well, and he wants to do it right. Not just for the marshal, but also for Lady Lunafreya.” It would have been the kind of wedding he would have had with her, maybe.

“Yeah. Ravus was saying he wished she was around to witness his marriage, too,” Gladio shared, careful not to let the phone fall off his shoulder as he peeled the plastic off his cold tuna sandwich. Another food hall product from the mall basement.

“Are you having breakfast?”

Gladio smiled at his concern. Really, Ignis was the most thoughtful person in the entire damn cosmos and nothing anyone said would convince him and his swooning heart otherwise. “Yeah. Thanks for always checking in on me.” No need to tell him what kind of breakfast he was having, though.

“My pleasure,” Ignis told him.

“Hey,” putting his sandwich down to his coffee table, Gladio finally grasped his phone, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You free on Monday after work? Thought we might drop by my friend’s workshop.”

“Alas, I’m afraid I cannot commit. The marshal will begin handing over some of his work to me so I do not know if we’ll finish on time. At worst, we’ll have dinner together.”

“Next day, then?” Gladio shrugged. “The wedding’s soon. We’ll probably have to—”

“Yes. Understood. But erm…” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps…perhaps a bespoke present might be too ambitious at this short a time, don’t you think? Perhaps we ought to just take a look around the malls umm…Thursday evening?” Gladio pulled his brows low. It wasn’t like Ignis to cut things too close. “I should hopefully be free by then.”

“Canʼt make it Tuesday?” Gladio was kind of hoping they would get their semi-date soon, and maybe finally confess his feelings. If anything, this whole wedding business was really convincing him that a commitment might not be the biggest baddest daemon he would face yet. Maybe he ought to thank Cor for the inspiration.

Or—maybe not. “No, I erm…have another meeting with the marshal.”

Well, what was it that he said? Duty was duty—no matter what day of the week or time of the year it was. And just because Cor was the soon-to-be ex-captain of the Crownsguard who had given him the push he needed to man up and face his crush, Gladio doubted he would be forgiven for shirking on his job for the sake of love. So even when he saw Cor and Ignis talking in private in some obscure corner of the Citadel, or departing from a room together that was otherwise empty, he told himself there was nothing to be thought of them. Duty was duty and both of them were dutiful men.

Until an unexpected visitor came to him that Thursday morning, just as he was about to leave for work. Gladio had opted to linger in his bedroom long enough to finish attaching the cape to his council robes but the rapping in the door was persistent. So he left that business to his unkempt bed with a huff before he hurried down the first floor, announcing his arrival. Hadnʼt even thought to put on his slippers before he opened the door with a barely-concealed look of ire.

At least Ravus would catch him in a clean, official outfit instead of…maybe just his briefs and its bacon garter.

This was bad, though—Gladio was ill-equipped to entertain any visitor and so much less the ruler of Tenebrae. Still, he did his best and finally broke out the tea set that had, until then, been stored at the back of his cupboard since his housewarming from about a year ago—and in its original wrapping no less.

He set down Ravus’ cup—plain white with a single strip of gold at the top—as carefully as he could, a single tea bag with a green tag steeping in the steaming water. Gladio also had his own version of it but he was more than likely to just throw it away as soon as this whole business was over.

And more concerned with the facts that the tea had probably already expired, that he was going to be late for a meeting with the Crownsguard, and that Ravus wouldn’t go out of his way to drop in for a surprise visit without his personal entourage if it wasn’t something extremely important.

“So…” Gladio prompted his visitor as soon as he was back on the long couch beside the solo one he occupied, clasping his hands together and keeping a conscious eye on them before they started wringing each other. “What can I do for you?”

“I take it you and Ignis haven’t spoken with each other yet.” Oh, what—this again?

Gladio frowned back at the persistent Tenebraen. “Not yet. He and the marshal are busy with the transition.”

Not the answer Ravus had come knocking for. He glared at his hapless cup of tea, a storm brewing in his expression, then picked it up for a refreshing sip. Somehow that only worsened his already bleak mood. Yikes. Count on a Tenebraen to know his teastuff. “I had thought that for a man who had spent the entire journey to Gralea bawling like a babe, you would have bared your heart to him by now.” He exhaled, full of disappointment. Did Cor send him to give him a Fleuretian-style pep talk? “If you had, perhaps we would not be dealing with this.” Hold up—

“We?” Gladio echoed what he thought he heard him say, looking incredulously at the scowling man in white. “All due respect Ravus, but what the hell is going on?”

For a long second there that was about as deathly quiet as a royal tomb, Ravus only regarded him with his bicolored gaze, as if he was daring him to calculate just how displeased he was of Gladioʼs behavior and reaction. Gladio didnʼt know what to think, or what to expect from his cryptic messages. “I fear the object of your affections may be getting in the way of my relationship with my fiancé.” And yet that was definitely not it.

“Wh—” Gladio choked in his spit, taking a moment to cough and gulp down his tepid tea to clear his throat (sour and bitter, just the way it wasnʼt supposed to be maybe) before he made another attempt to voice his surprise. “What do you mean…you mean Ignis? Is having an affair with the marshal?!” Thank the gods he lived alone. No one else needed to hear the most treacherous and ridiculous thing that his visitor had just forced him to speak. As if Cor would ever— “The marshal would never let that happen!”

“As expected, you have never wondered why they are both spending far too much time together, when it is you who will resume your post as captain of the peacekeeping force soon and not Ignis.” Well, duty was duty—

“Well, maybe it’s because I trust Ignis.”

“Assuming that either of you are in a committed relationship.” Okay, that stung. He really came to his house to get him, didn’t he?

Gladio tried not to let it show in his face. “Well, don’t you trust the marshal? You guys are gonna marry each other in three days, right?” And of course, therein laid the problem.

The future Ravus Leonis-Fleuret was actually having doubts in his missing fiancé. He turned away from the truth that accused him, casting his frown on the pile of outdated outdoors magazines sitting under the coffee table. Gladio suddenly felt like he wanted to apologize for the accidental retort. So much for burying bad blood. Or something.

“Yes,” Ravus sighed, heavy with his doubts. “And it is because of me that we are marrying at the soonest possible occasion.” Huh.

Gladio shrugged, tossing his hand a little. “The marshal said it was because of your duty to your people.”

“I meant, it was I who proposed to Cor.” Oh, it was him? When Cor announced it about a week ago, it seemed like he was the one who’d done it. “I who wished to have him while I still can.” Finally, having revealed a layer of his guarded life, Ravus allowed himself to loosen up in front of his former enemy. Carefully, he brought his back to the plush cushions of his seat, as if to make sure his clothes remained free of wrinkles. Or maybe he was just a little tired. Or sad. Gladio would be, too, if he found out that Ignis was having an affair that wasn’t him.

“I should have suspected that he will be hesitant, when he asked me to give him some time to consider my proposal,” he went on, eyes drawn to the windows looking out onto a quiet weekday neighborhood. “But then he surprised me by coming to Tenebrae himself with his answer, and I thought it was merely my mind playing tricks on me. And yet, he has hardly ever been apart from Ignis since my welcome party.” Well, put it that way, it really was suspicious-looking. “And now I find myself wondering if this has been going on far longer than I am ready to accept. It is quite easy, after all, for Strategist and Commander to find themselves in deeper understanding of each other.”

“Hey now,” Gladio straightened up a little bracing his hands on his thighs. “Do you even hear yourself? You really think Ignis and the marshal could do that?” Not Ignis of all! “Thought you knew them better than that?”

“I only know that I do not want to lose Cor Leonis.” Ravus frowned. “I no longer want to experience the pain of losing someone important again and I will do everything in my power to stop that from happening.” Once again, the sleeping dragon roused himself into business, sitting up to look Gladio straight in the eye as he added, “Which brings me to why I have come to you this morning, Gladiolus. I want you to help me find out what is happening behind the scenes.”

“M,” Gladio pointed to himself, “me?”

“Are you not equally invested in this as I am? Do you not want Ignis Scientia?”

“Look,” Gladio spread his hand again, “of c—”

“Then it is settled.” Ravus swooped up to his feet, like a bird taking flight. “You will accompany me to Insomnia Midtown and we will get to the bottom of this once and for all.”

“Hey, hold up,” Gladio followed after him, putting his hand out to stop him. “We’re going to the mall? If you really wanna find out about Ignis and the marshal, then you ought to be coming to the Citadel with me. I got a meeting with them—”

“Do you really think I would be interested in the mall if they were in the Citadel at all?”

It was the worst stealth operation Gladio had ever been stupid enough to get himself involved in. No scoping, no strategies. Just straight up scuttling up against the fat pillar, glaring at their marks still dressed in their council robes as they stood by the concierge and growling, “I see them.” More than being spotted by his mentor, one of the most influential people in his life, it was being found out by Ignis, his favorite man in the whole entire cosmos, while he was being the moron that horrified Gladio.

“Wait!”

He may as well have gotten himself banned from ever stepping foot in Tenebrae again when he grabbed for its leader’s white coat train and all but yanked him back to their hiding place. Gladio, at least, managed to pull his large hand back before he tore the expensive fabric when Ravus snatched it back from him, mere breaths away from turning Gladio to ashes by the sheer power of his glare. “Are you seriously going to confront them just like this?” he whispered loudly. “What do you think the marshal is going to think if you just appear in front of him all of a sudden!”

“For being Cor’s most important disciple, I would have thought you would have learned to strike while the iron was hot as he does.”

“You ever touch a pan while it’s on the grill? You don’t because literally no one wants to get burned!” Gladio muttered in retort, matching Ravus’ bared teeth with his own. “I thought we came here to investigate why they aren’t in the Citadel like they're supposed to be? And now you want to make an arrest?”

“Well, what would you suggest, then?” Ravus snarled, bringing up all those bitter memories of their rivalry at the most inopportune time. “Be quick about it because I am not keen to lose their trail now that I have it!” Neither did Gladio—when he saw Ignis’ car in the basement parking, he couldnʼt look Ravus in the eye because he did feel a tinge of betrayal there. If he’d known that Ignis had been willing to sneak out from the office for some shopping all this time, he would have proposed something similar for his and Ignis’ much-delayed lunch date—if it was even still a thing at all.

He hoped he would find out at the end of this stake-out. In the meantime, he looked around the location, seeking inspiration for a plan. Sunlight spilled down the glass ceilings several storeys overhead, illuminating all those red and white and blue and gold baubles decorating the entire space. Even the strings of green plastic leaves hanging over the ceilings and pillars looked fresh and alive under the morning light, where they swooped between red ribbons and golden bells. It was enough to put the unsuspecting crowd of shoppers in a festive mood.

That, and those bearded strangers in red hooded robes lined with white silver faux fur, ringing their bells and asking for donations for some charity or other.

Gladioʼs eyes flashed with inspiration, an urgent hand grabbing Ravus’ metallic arm. “I got just the thing.”

“This is ridiculous, Amicitia!!”

This whole stalking mission was ridiculous, Gladio agreed. And definitely worse than walking around in the traditional red-and-white costume of the mythical spirit they simply called the Jolly Messenger.

If anything, Ravus, at least, easily looked that part with his snowy hair and snowy beard, eliminating the need for a wig. “Hey, you asked for my help so I’m helping ya,” Gladio muttered hotly, as if he hadnʼt locked themselves up in an empty men’s bathroom and someone else could be eavesdropping on them. He refused to be intimidated by the man who bristled while he fixed the last button on his coat and tugged his furry lapels closer. “You can’t expect the best men in the Crownsguard to miss us when you’re white as snow and I’m,” in casual clothes, “…well, me. We gotta blend in!”

“By becoming mockeries of the Pyreburner,” Ravus seethed. Actually, the Pyreburner part was just the red fabric as a symbol of his gift of fire. Then someone tossed in some silver lining (literally) to represent the Glacian’s love for the humans and then another someone turned the Jolly Messenger into an old man resembling the Fulgurian who blessed the fields with rain. In any case—

Gladio jutted a warning finger at the Tenebraen. “When in Lucis, do as the Lucians do.” Finally, he picked up his fake beard from the counter and turned to his reflection on the mirror as he fitted the prop over his jaw. “Thought you knew that when you asked the marshal to marry you?” As soon as he felt the rough fabric against his skin, he knew he was going to regret this. How much did he pay those Jolly Messengers for these costumes again? Maybe he should have negotiated.

Ravus tutted at his rebuttal, choosing instead to pull a little at his red garb which was sadly a little too short for him but whatever, they werenʼt in this for the long-run, anyway. At least he was getting into the spirit. “This had better work, Amicitia.” Gods, Gladio hoped so, too. He didn’t want to be caught dead looking like a cheap godsmas prop, or worse, caught by Ignis.

With their clothes stuffed into the red satchel they carried over their backs, Gladio and Ravus snuck out of the men’s room and hurried to the former Jolly Messengers having a smoke in one of the outer gardens that surrounded the mall. Gladio had asked them to keep an eye on their marks while they dressed appropriately to the occasion and were pointed to one of the upper floors, where Ignis’ handsome back could be seen against the glass balcony.

No one paid them any mind when they went up the escalator at the side. Gladio was the one who spotted Ignis, of course, his affections compelling him to always be on the lookout for his crush. He caught Ravus by his shoulder before the hot-headed Tenebraen could charge him again and ruin everything they’d worked hard for. And just in time to witness Cor stepping out of the store, too.

And Ignis standing straighter, a cheerful expression on his face as he tucked his phone within the folds of his robe. From the side unseen, a shy Cor finally presented him with…

A full bouquet of flowers…bursting with colors that brought a delighted look upon Ignis’ face as he accepted the gift and inspected it.

Talk about feeling winded, as if someone had punched him in the gut and forced him to expel all the air he had in him. The hook was back in his chest, the proverbial line leading him back to his happy crush but this time it stung. Like a needle on his skin. And every breath he took fell short and felt hot and painful. He felt cheated upon, and he felt sick with dejection, as well. Like a heart burn, or as if he was food poisoned.

“Red tulips,” Ravus hissed beside him, “blue salvia and daffodils…!” Gladio heard him stumble back as if from a stab wound. When he whirled to him, he caught his hand flying to his chest to grasp his bleeding heart. “He dares…? He dares to express those sentiments to another?”

“What sentiments?” Gladio sputtered, still dumb from witnessing the end of his dreams.

Ravus glowered at him. “A declaration of love and passion, that he thinks of him and regards him with unrivaled love. It is there, plain as day to see!”

“You mean the flowers?” What the hell did Gladio know about flowerspeak!

“When he accepted my proposal, my dear heart approached me with a bouquet like that, as well,” Ravus growled, whipping back to the secret lovers. “It is not so elegantly made as this one, but I accepted it all too happily, knowing that Cor is not a man of words. And now…now I see him refining his language with another man…!”

“Hey, stop it, stop it!” Gladio snapped at him under his breath, tugging his flimsy sleeve to regain his attention. “Look, if you wanna confront him about this, you gotta collect evidence! And I didn’t pay a fortune for these stupid clothes just so we’d get nothing to show for it. Now, c’mon—there’s bound to be more to this than meets the eye.” Which was to say: gods above, he really hoped this wasn’t what he thought it was.

If it was, then Gladio didnʼt know what to think or to do anymore. He knew he and Ignis had never been deeply involved with each other—not with the way he kept avoiding him with his tail between his legs—but could he ever look Ignis in the eye and pretend that he wasnʼt hurt? That he could forget about his admiration for him in light of these events? Sure the guy was single and an adult who was more than capable of making his own decisions…and so was Cor and Cor wasn’t legally bound to another man just yet so he was free to indulge his own flings and stuff but…but damn, could they really expect Gladio not to say anything about this?

Thoughts that hounded him as he and Ravus stalked them around the mall, which was work made challenging by a pair of too-tight trousers riding up his back, narrow sleeves biting into the pits of his arms and struggling buttons drawing hourglasses along his front. He had to stop now and again between corners and behind walls to pull at his clothes and keep himself looking somewhat decent for his age. Also to muffle any sneezing attacks brought on by the stupid beard before it gave them away.

As for the lovers, they went on about their date, blissfully unaware of the crimes they were committing. In constant conversation with each other, they visited a chocolate shop, a tea shop, and a grocer, each stop adding bags along their arms. At last it was time for brunch; Cor led them to a garden cafe, then, sitting Ignis on a glass table in the middle of an empty space before he excused himself to go off elsewhere.

“And where is he going?” Ravus fumed. “Stay here. I will follow him.”

Ravus didnʼt even need to tell him that. Gladio wasn’t going anywhere he couldnʼt see Ignis.

He looks so happy, he moaned inside him with some searing pain in his chest as he concealed himself behind a potted plant, the container large enough to fit a child. Now left to his own devices, Ignis reached for the large paper bag, brown with the grocer’s logo stamped on the front, and looked into the contents inside. Whatever they were, they brought a twinkling smile to his face which he had to restrain behind bitten lips.

Gods, but I still like you, Gladio groaned like an idiot amidst his thumping heart, leaning his head onto the pot. Satisfied with what he saw, Ignis produced his phone and started to tap on it.

“Pardon me, Sir,” a familiar voice called his attention just as his phone started to ring. He turned to the heavy hand patting his shoulder.

Cor’s fist landed squarely onto his left eye with a mean right hook, sending Gladio back to the wall with the resistance of a broken puppet. For a second there, pain and stars danced around his head, rendering him incapable of thinking and doing much else.

But he managed to bring his fists up over his head as soon as he heard the wind whip and caught the next attack right at the meat of his forearm. Didn’t wait for the next blow before he pulled himself off to the side in a fast roll, using the momentum to boost himself up to his feet. Something finally ripped behind him and he was pretty sure it was his pants.

No time to think; the next volley of attacks came at him right before he could rethink his stance. His only advantage now was that he knew how Cor fought, how swiftly his feet moved, the counts of his breath before he unleashed another swinging fist. Gladio danced between his punches and kicks, using his ears to tell him the beat and the tempo. Those he couldnʼt dodge, he blocked with his arms and his legs.

“Marshal?!” Only of course, this time there was no way he could escape Ignis’ notice. A low blow brought his right arm right across his tummy, catching Cor’s fist at the nick of time.

And opening his face for a backhanded smack that sent him right back where he started. He landed on the wall with a heavy grunt before he crumpled to the ground, wincing at the new bruise smarting on the corner of his lips. Cor knew how to pull his punches but damn did he know how to make them hurt, too!

“Now, then,” Cor exhaled, voice even despite the exertions and his age. “Who are you and why have you been following us around?”

“Marshal, what’s going—” Ignis footsteps stammered upon his approach. “Gladio?!” There went all his chances of courting Ignis.

“Gladio?” Cor echoed him in confusion just as Ignis landed on the floor next to him and eased him onto his back with the wall. “This amateur? What are you…by the gods, is that you, Gladio?”

“You couldn’t tell?” Ignis snapped at their superior as he pushed the red hood off his head and peeled his plastic wig and cheap beard. As soon as his accessories were off, Gladio instantly felt better. “Oh you poor thing,” he winced, cupping his right cheek with his gloved hand and combing through his thick locks with the other. Gladio wouldn’t lie, this felt good and soothing to the soul. “Why are you dressed like this, anyway? You look like an overstuffed chocobo for roasting!” That hurt more than Cor’s punches. “Did you fall for a trick?”

“You tell me,” Gladio winced, trying to sit up straighter by his own efforts. “Iʼm the chocobo who was stupid enough to be served for dinner.”

With a huff, Ignis whirled to the marshal coming to his knees next to him, staring in wonder. “When I asked you to help me talk to him, I did not mean for you to incapacitate him!”

“You said you booked him for a meeting in the Citadel,” Cor retorted, frowning at Ignis’ accusation. Ignis tutted at him with impatience before he returned his attention to Gladio, taking his chin carefully by his fingers and tilting him gently sideways so he could inspect his injury. “How was I to know he would be skipping it?”

“Hey, same question,” Gladio grunted to his mentor while Ignis brought his cape to his hand and started dabbing it on the side of his eye. Damn, he was probably bleeding. “What are you two doing here in the first place?”

“That depends on what your business here is, as well,” Cor rebutted with a dismissive tone.

Gladio winced when Ignis pressed too hard, causing the man to hiss and whisper his apologies as he shifted closer, blowing gently on his cut. “Iʼm on a spy mission.”

“A spy mission?” Ignis stared at him with furrowed brows. “Dressed like that?” Now Gladio was sure this was the worst decision he had ever made in this life and the last. “Is this a mission from the king?”

“Yeah,” Gladio croaked as footsteps approached. “But not that king.”

“Then which king?”

Gladio nodded to their new friend.

“We only have one…” Ignis finally turned to the man. “Ravus?”

Cor shot straight up to his feet, faster than he ever got up for Noctis or his father before him. “Sylle!” he choked. Well, for whatever it was worth, Ravus was finally going to get that confrontation he’d been itching for.

“A, ahh!” Gladio hissed, trying to shift farther from Ignis’ offensive hand as it dabbed some ointment onto his cut but that one firmly pressed to his right cheek prevented him from escaping at all. Ignis did try to make up for the pain by blowing again on his wound. “Canʼt believe the marshal really punched me with his engagement ring.”

“Well, you know how he is,” Ignis mumbled in response, pulling away from his treatment to toss the stained gauze pad to Gladioʼs coffee table before he picked up the tapes. “He likes to get straight to the point. If he wants to say something, he says it.” Then he rolled his eyes. “Or so I thought he did.” So then, Gladio was right. There was more to that secret date than met the eye and he would lie if he said he wasn’t relieved by this.

But for all that he’d stressed himself with what might have been Ignis’ preferred relationship status that morning, he was more curious now about how everything had begun and led to him and Ignis sitting on his couch that afternoon. Following Ravus and Cor’s rather chaotic reunion, Ignis made the wise decision to postpone whatever they were bound to talk about at a later date. So he passed his keys to Cor and hitched a ride with Gladio to his apartment, leaving behind the shoddy Messenger costumes, everything he and Cor had bought except that one bag from the grocer.

Which now stood next to the open first aid kit, two empty cups of instant noodles, Ignis’ mug of coffee and Gladioʼs bottle of beer.

“So what’s the story?” Gladio finally asked as Ignis laid a tape over his injury. This close, he could catch a whiff of his floral and lime perfume. “Thought we had a meeting with the Crownsguard?”

“That was a diversion,” Ignis finally revealed. “We have an inside man in the meeting who was instructed to discuss the food budget for the marshal’s turnover ceremony with you.” The tapes in place, he turned Gladioʼs face to his direction (putting his nose within mere inches from Ignis’ which caused him to hiccup a gasp) so he could look at the bruise near his lips next. “In the meantime, the marshal and I escaped to the mall where we’d planned to spend a few hours in the morning just to get a few necessities. Flowers for Ravus, some local chocolates and wine to go with it…”

“So when he gave it to you…” Gladio trailed off, waiting for Ignis to continue and watching him closely while he was at it. The elegant bow of his lips, that little break on his nose bridge that served only to accentuate his already-good looks and make it his…the moles and little nicks on his face that hinted at Gladio where he wanted to kiss him.

Ignis smirked handsomely, not enough to be arrogant but just enough to display a bit of pride on himself. “I never told you about it but in the past few days, I had been reading up a bit on floriography which is important among the Tenebraens. I did it because the marshal had asked me for help and I had a favor I’d asked of him.” Finally, he let go of Gladioʼs chin to reach within the kit again for a different medication this time. “The bouquet this morning was a test to see how much of my lessons he truly understood. He mentioned wishing to make up for an ugly bouquet he had given once in the past. I had a feeling he wanted to redeem himself and to prove his worth before he married.”

“Hey, did you know it was Ravus who’d proposed to him?” Gladio shared suddenly. Ignis picked up a new tube and squeezed a bead of semi-translucent substance onto his fingertip. “And then the marshal asked for some time to consider it and then he came to Tenebrae with flowers when he accepted it.”

“Ah.” Ignis smiled brightly at his story, doing things to Gladioʼs helpless heart again. “I see that is the context behind it. How did you find out?” He turned Gladioʼs face to him again, gently once more by the chin. “Donʼt move too much,” he uttered, so softly they came out more as pure sounds than words. Gladio found himself drawing his breath in, just in case he ran out.

Then he told himself he had to relax, and forced himself to let out a quiet laughter. He never would have expected the effect it would have on Ignis, which was to pull his lower lip in so he could trap it between his teeth. How he expected Gladio to even be remotely functional when he looked that way was a mystery for the gods. “W, well,” he had to try, anyway. Carefully as he was instructed while Ignis rubbed the new ointment in circles on his bruise. “He uhh…dropped by this morning and told me you guys were in the mall.”

“He did?” Ignis’ brows met again. “So he knew.” He drew back a little to inspect his work.

“Yeah,” Gladio said. “He uhh…” He cleared his throat, reaching back to his half-pony to pull a little at that tail. “H, he thought…he thought you and the marshal were having an affair.” Those garden green eyes widened with his revelation. “Yeah.”

“Truly?” he gasped. Then when Gladio nodded, he let out a bark of laughter, raising his healing hand to his wide smile. His amusement was so much that even Gladio had to try his own smile, in the hopes of being in on the joke. “Oh,” he sighed, reaching back to the table for some tissue to wipe his fingers on. “Oh, if he only knew…”

“Knew what?” Gladio asked, still smiling. He really wanted to know.

When Ignis looked at him again, that tender joy still lingering in his eyes, Gladio thought he looked…felt content. In peace…or resigned?

He nodded to the coffee table. “Why don’t you look in the bag?” The bag…that one from the grocer which had Ignis beaming like a kid on godsmas day.

It was embarrassing how Gladio still entertained a touch of apprehension at Ignis’ invitation, as though he was worried that he would find inside it a fancy bouquet with a card that read, Sorry, but I love Cor, which he couldnʼt decide if it was tastefully Ignis or not. But anyway, Gladio was never the type to be arrested forever by the stuff of doubts. Even caused a fissure between his friends because of that.

With all the courage his forefathers had graced him with, Gladio reached for the bag and looked within it. It was heavier than it looked, and there were no bouquets, of course. Although there was a single stalk in the midst of packs of tofu, raw grounded meat, white rice, bottles and jars of various seasonings…

“Wait,” Gladio recognized his dinner from several nights back, “tofu rice?” He carried his eyes back to Ignis.

Now the man was smiling shyly. “I called you earlier…because I told myself that I couldn’t wait much longer to tell you something about me. Besides, the marshal had been quite encouraging…even going so far as to help me strategize. The plan would have been to invite you for dinner,” they had penciled in Thursday evening for themselves, “and then to show up here with those ingredients. I would have cooked for you a better version of tofu rice, and shown you that I could take care of you—” take care of him? “—i, if you would let me.” The answer, of course, was yes—yes, of course, he would.

But Gladio was still in the middle of processing Ignis’ confession, he hadnʼt gotten to the part where he had to start formulating words yet.

He must have been gaping at him forever because the man suddenly moved to tilt the bag a little towards himself to peek inside. Gladio was electrified into action and pulled it back; come to think of it, there was something else in it…

A pink flower, made out of several rows of petals going around in circles to produce something geometric and symmetrical.

“A pink camellia,” the budding floriographer revealed as soon as Gladio had unearthed it from the bag. “It means…that I am longing for you.” Him.

Gladio stared at Ignis. “All this time?” he sputtered, to which Ignis nodded. “Y, you mean…so the marshal never told you?”

“Told me what?”

“That I like you,” Gladio finally confessed, earning a literal jaw dropping reaction from his crush. “That I…I’ve been wanting to tell you since the Long Night,” since even before that, actually, “but I just…I dunno, it’s kinda hard you know? I’ve been admiring you from afar for as long as I could remember, I didnʼt realize there’d come a time I’ll have to do it so near to you.”

“I should have taken a step closer, then,” Ignis laughed—giggled—as stars painted his eyes. Gladio wanted to feel his smile on his skin. “Though I suppose you weren’t the only fool watching from a distance. And here I thought I finally have perfect eyesight.”

“Least you saw where you were going.” To him.

All this time, Ignis had been walking to him. “Indeed,” he agreed.

It seemed only the most natural thing, then, for Ignis to bounce closer to him on the couch, cup his cheek and draw him close for their first kiss. It was about as sweet, sweeter, even…than the sweetest thing Gladio had ever tasted. And so soft and warm, it could turn a man of pure muscle like him into butter.

When they paused, Gladio licked his lips, tasting the salt of Ignis’ touch before he shifted straighter in his seat so he could attach their lips again, his hand now feeling the shape of Ignis’ handsome jaw. In the quiet of Gladioʼs empty apartment, he heard Ignis’ robe rustling as he moved about, knees sinking and rising from the couch.

He caught a glimpse of Ignis’ blushing smile as he mounted him before Ignis captured him again in his lips, long, rough fingers scraping gently along his beard to pull him close, just as Gladio nudged him nearer by his tapered waist. They spent the better part of the afternoon like this—kissing and kissing again, mumbling nothings and laughing and kissing again.

“How did that song go again?” Ignis began suddenly during a brief pause, both of them brushing their lips against each other, lest they waste a moment in euphoria. “I saw mommy kissing…”

Gladio snorted when he caught the joke, earning a tipsy laughter from the man on top of him. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” Though maybe he ought to consider it a good investment—after all, those overpriced costumes got him to where he was now.

“No,” Ignis said amidst giggles, shaking his head before they reunited their lips anew.

It was the worst way to care for a bruise near the lips, but damn if Gladio wasn’t soaring in bliss. By the time they had successfully painted each otherʼs lips swollen red, a tender splash of blue had come to his apartment.

He leaned heavily on the couch, arms around his boyfriendʼs waist who laid on him, his own hands gripping Gladioʼs shoulders on which he laid his cheek.

“Man,” Gladio chuckled suddenly, chest bouncing with his amusement. “Talk about being a buzzer beater.”

“Hm?” Ignis moaned, too comfortable to move otherwise.

“Just remembered that I gave myself a deadline,” Gladio rumbled. “Told myself that I had to fess up before the marshal and Ravus got hitched. Glad I made it at the nick of time.”

“But at what cost?” Ignis spoke after a moment.

Now it was Gladioʼs turn to ask him, “Hm?” as Ignis raised himself to face him, hands flat on his tank top.

“We may have found each other but,” Ignis frowned, “I hate to think that we cost them their marriage. You mentioned that Ravus had suspected the marshal of being unfaithful. He did seem rather disappointed when we met.”

“Oh, c’mon, it can’t be that bad, right?” Gladio laughed again, grinning in a way he hoped was reassuring. But when Ignis’ brows only furrowed deeper, he began to doubt his own confidence. “Right?” he said again, looking worried now.

“And so, with the power vested in me,” Noctis announced to the entire congregation, his voice filling the bright throne room from where he stood by his dais, “by the grace of the gods, the Rulers of Yore and the people, I now pronounce you married. In the eyes of the gods and of the people. Cor, Ravus,” he nodded to both friends, “you may now seal your union.”

A rambunctious applause, mostly coming from the side of Lucis, particularly the Crownsguard, erupted at the king’s pronouncement. Gladio himself might have joined in on the fun if he wasnʼt whistling in relief and flashing a similar smile to Ignis who stood next to him. Prompto on the other side was busy taking pictures. “All’s well that ends well,” he mumbled.

“I couldn’t have said it better,” Ignis agreed, turning his eyes on the newlyweds. “Now we can all be happy for each other.”

Cor took a step closer to Ravus as he carried his hands to his snowy jawline, bringing out a smile from both himself and his new husband before they met in a kiss. This time, Gladio didnʼt stop himself from hooting at his former commander and his former enemy, earning a sharp jab from his present boyfriend.

The wedding party happened in one of the many gardens tucked within the Citadel, bursting with fairy lights, flowers from both Lucis and Tenebrae and of course, bountiful swathes of sylleblossoms to remind everyone of the last Oracle who strove to unite both kingdoms. Everyone was in the perfect spirit for merriment.

“Even Noct seems to be enjoying himself, finally,” Ignis went on, drawing Gladioʼs eyes to the king in the company of his best friend and a part of the Tenebraen delegation. He was laughing now, a glass of sparkling in his hand where earlier, he wanted only to stand among the blue flowers, smiling wistfully at them.

“Gladiolus, Ignis.”

Habit drilled into both former members of the Crownsguard had them whirling and snapping to attention in the face of their ex-commander. “Marshal,” Ignis mumbled in greeting as they tipped their heads in the same beat.

Cor chuckled. “I see you both have a lot of getting used to to do.” He’d come arm in arm with his husband, dressed in his Glaive’s uniform like Gladio and Ignis, the perfect contrast with Ravus who stood in white. “Are you enjoying yourselves?”

“But of course, marshal,” Ignis replied politely. “It was a wonderful wedding, for which I must extend our deepest congratulations.”

“And I, the same for the both of you,” Ravus stepped in, gesturing to both of them with his wine glass. “It seems you both finally found your way to a relationship.” Lest any of them forget the kind of drama they played up before this momentous occasion.

They glanced at each other, then Ignis laughed. Gladio tossed in a shrug before he transferred his drink to his left hand and extended his right to Ravus for a firm shake. “Thanks to you and the marshal, that is. Couldn’t have done it without either of you two.”

“You’ve always made me proud, Gladiolus,” Cor said, grasping his hand. “I leave this country in peace, knowing that I will leave our people, our men and the king to the both of you.” He spread his hand out to them. “And you both to each other.”

“Well,” Gladio stepped back, taking Ignis by the hand to share a smile with him. “We had a great mentor.”

“And now the mentor becomes the student,” Cor said, looking at each of them. “If not for your involvement, I never would have thought that,” he turned to his husband, who faced him with an expression that could only be called ‘dreamy’, “there is yet a journey for us to take. I had thought that simply because we had remained steadfast through the Long Night, we were home free to a quiet life. But then I realized that not all daemons live in the darkness. Some of them have been around since the past, just lying in wait until the trigger is pulled.”

“We have no doubts that you will triumph against these ones, as well, marshal,” Ignis replied with a little nod of encouragement. “You have always known how to adapt to the field.”

Cor chuckled, still looking at his husband. “No one did say an immortal dog couldn’t learn new tricks.”

That was the last they saw of the Leonis-Fleurets, before the wedding coordinator pulled them away and they disappeared into pools of friends and acquaintances among others. When their wine glasses soon emptied, they reunited with Noctis and Prompto, joining the effort to rebuild the Crown City with plates and glasses piling up at their private table. Oftentimes, the king would have to get up and attend to some official business, taking one of his retinue with him. But should they find themselves lucky enough to be left to their own devices, Ignis would take the opportunity to seek Gladioʼs hand and squeeze it, and Gladio, in turn, would bring his lips to Ignis’ temple, and cause him to smile.

Before the party came to an end, the host announced one last tradition the couple would like to ask their guests to partake—a classic bouquet toss, as an ode to the late Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. With his back turned to the garden, Ravus performed the act on behalf of his sister and flung the bunch of sylleblossoms into the air.

To Gladioʼs defense, it had been about to land right onto the king’s dessert. His Shield instincts kicking in, he flew up to his feet and snatched the bouquet right off the air. He didn’t realize what had happened until the crowd broke out to a wild cheer, his brothers- and sisters-in-arms in the Crownsguard among the loudest, and he was being called up to the front.

You gotta be kidding me, Gladio thought as he dropped the bouquet to Noctis’ lap, tried not to pull at his ear, and went up to the newlyweds to shake their hands again. Because that was a far better thing to do than to shift on one’s feet while pretending he wasn’t burning like an overcooked egg.

Cor nodded his approval to his presence. “Sharp and swift as ever, Gladiolus.”

“All those years of training me finally paid off, huh?” Gladio jested in turn, both of them clapping each otherʼs biceps before Cor gestured for him to face the audience.

Normally, what followed was the corsage, but that wasn’t something that honored Lunafreya, and so was left out of the program. So instead, they opted for a more democratic approach and asked Gladio if there was someone among the guests he wanted to kiss.

The answer was obvious. “Yeah,” he said without hesitation, leaning to the mic as he pointed to the man staring him down from the audience. “That man over there. Ignis Scientia, the Hand of the King—and my boyfriend.”

“His boyfriend!” their host echoed, loudly lest he be drowned by chaotic hooting. From their table Noctis and Prompto gaped at each other before their hands met in a sharp high-five between them. So there was a story to be told there.

Some other time—right now, Ignis was finishing the king’s glass of wine before he got up and waved to the cheering crowd. Gladio met him at the center after Cor and Ravus had stepped back to welcome him to the spotlight, stretching out his hand for his boyfriend to take.

“What is this all about, Amicitia?”

“You rather I kiss someone else, Scientia?” Gladio chuckled, grinning at the man who drew himself closely to him so that he could bring his own hand to the small of his back, his other one just on his shoulder. “Besides, they were going to find out one way or another, anyway. Might as well call the shots while we still can, huh?”

“Oh, Gladio,” Ignis laughed, smirking closely at his face. “You presume I would be into this?”

“You would be,” Gladio winked, “once I do this.”

If they hadn’t trusted each other, at times of peace and war and light and dark, he was pretty sure Ignis would have dropped himself to the floor when he dipped him low as though in a dance. Their audience made a shrill sound to indicate that they liked that while Ignis gasped and laughed and reached up to his jaw to catch himself.

“My, my, Lord Amicitia—” They were in a contest of who could beam the brightest this time. “Aren’t we feeling quite bold tonight?”

“Well, it’s just as you said,” Gladio began to remind him, “Dawn makes fools of us all.”

Ignis moaned his agreement, tipping his boyfriend closer to him. “Wiser words were never spoken.”

The place exploded and became nothing but sound as they met each other in a soft kiss. Gladio would be surprised if the entire Insomnia didn’t hear them, all the way to the checkpoint.

Or maybe he shouldn’t be—deep in the heart of the raucous party, a celebration of the love of two people, he could hear nothing but the racing of his heart, his spirits soaring and singing, and Ignis’ laughter as they parted, and pulled themselves up in each otherʼs embrace.