empyreanturtle - Tumblr blog

empyreanturtle · 6 years

Text

Brothers at Arms (A Final Fantasy XV one-shot story)

A/N: A story in which I try to explain some of Gladio’s and Ravus’s bizarre in-game reactions as best I could. Also, I always felt that Ravus made a much better foil to Gladio than to Noctis (both older brothers, both aggressively protective), and I thought it would be interesting to have them interact when they're both feeling like they failed in their roles. I actually started this scene AGES ago (just after Ep Gladio), and with Episode Ignis seemingly filling in this same time gap, I wanted to finish and post it before Square Enix does their own take on what happened. Spoilers abound!

Read on AO3

Gladiolus Amicitia paced back and forth along the hallway between Noctis’s and Ignis’s rooms at the First Secretary’s estate. Sitting around for the last three days since Leviathan’s awakening had given Gladiolus plenty of time to replay what happened, trying to find the reason everything had gone so wrong.

The Empire was to blame. Their attack on the Hydraean made a bad situation turn horrible. Gladiolus knew as soon as Leviathan appeared that getting her blessing would be harder than Titan or Ramuh. They hadn’t been easy, but Gladiolus recognized an anger in Leviathan that the other gods had lacked.

The Empire’s involvement only fueled it further. They attacked the Hydraean with the full power of their army. And every time they missed, the rounds impacted with the city below. Despite the “recovery force” they deployed after the battle was done, it was clear to Gladiolus that the Empire had no regard for the people of Altissia.

Gladiolus had done his best to protect the Altissians, helping them move to the higher levels of the city as the water rose. But he hesitated when he saw the Chancellor’s ship flying towards the fight, towards Noct. Trying to decide whether to go to his King, or help Ignis with more of the citizens. And that’s when Gladiolus heard the shell blast below. He rushed to pull Ignis from the water as fast as he could, but the damage had been done.

And now Ignis was blind, Noctis was in some supernatural slumber, and the Oracle was missing. That moment of indecision caused him to fail at protecting all of them.

“A weak shield protects naught,” Gladiolus murmured. He clenched a fist and pounded it against the wall. He hated that Ravus’s words still rang true despite everything he had done to make himself stronger.

The sound of Prompto returning to the estate, whistling his silly chocobo song, gave Gladiolus his chance to get out for a while. He was done with the siege mentality, done with waiting around until they had no choice but to defend themselves. He was ready to take action.

“Heya!” Prompto greeted him cheerfully as they passed. “Where ya goin?”

“For a walk,” Gladiolus replied.

“O-kay, buddy,” he replied slowly, then mumbled something about finding a better mood while he was out. Gladiolus only waved his hand in response, knowing Prompto didn’t deserve any of the words likely to come out of his mouth.

Outside the estate, the people of Altissia gathered along the sidewalks on the highest levels of the city. Over half of the city below had been flooded, and the lowest level was still underwater. He walked south of the city center to the rows and rows of tents that had been set up as makeshift homes for those who had lost theirs. It was only one of four camps set up around the city by the Imperial Army’s recovery unit.

As he entered the southern camp, it didn’t take long for Gladiolus to catch the familiar scent of Mhaago’s wood-smoked fish. It stayed with him as he walked his usual path to a tent at the end of the second row, where he lifted the flap, and walked inside.

“Welcome, lad,” Weskham greeted him with a wave. The restaurant proprietor had been given a larger tent than most, in exchange for his cooking abilities. Inside, two shelves of various drinks and cooking supplies sat behind a table that served as a prep counter. On the opposite side, another long table had benches down each side, and in the back corner was a small wood-burning smoker.

“What brings you here today?” Weskham asked.

“Needed to get out for a while,” Gladiolus responded. He took a seat on one of the benches, and Weskham set a plate of the fish in front of him.

“On the house,” Weskham clarified.

“Surprised people aren’t lined up for this,” Gladiolus said. “I smelled it from the edge of camp.” He took large bites of the meal, glad for the food but eager to get to the point of his visit.

Weskham folded his arms. “Oh, they’ve all had their share already. It’s the least I can do to help with my city’s recovery. And speaking of recovery, how fares the young King?”

“Still asleep. But the docs say he’s fine.” Gladiolus pushed away the empty plate. “Hear any, uh, interesting news lately?”

“Depends on what is interesting to you,” Weskham replied. “Most of the fishing boats were destroyed. The few left have been hired by the First Secretary’s estate to provide rations for the city. The Oracle is still missing, and while some suspect the worst, most people are still hopeful.”

Gladiolus frowned. It hadn’t been his duty to protect Lady Lunafreya, but he felt like he failed her all the same. “Any news about the Empire?”

“Of course,” Weskham said with a knowing smile. “They have started their relief efforts to help stabilize the city, but the main force is preparing to leave. Only one company will remain to oversee the city’s recovery, under the command of General Ungaro. Of course, the same effort in Insomnia has not gone well, from what I’ve heard. I suspect that’s why they removed the High Commander from his position.”

“Ravus…” Gladiolus clenched a fist beneath the table. Ravus was the one leading the Empire’s attack on Leviathan, and on all the other Astrals. He led the hunt for Noctis, too. The Empire was to blame for their situation, and Ravus had been at the front of it all.

“Now,” Weskham continued, “If I were the High Commander, I wouldn’t stick around to see what consequences come with the demotion. The Imperials rarely give second chances, and never give a third.”

“You know where he is?” Gladiolus asked. He felt fire rushing through his blood at the chance to take out the man responsible for everything. For Noctis, and Iggy. For Altissia. For Jared Hester, and everyone else who had helped them along the way and suffered for it.

Weskham shook his head. “There are only rumors of a man in white armor headed east of the city. In the direction the water is draining.”

Gladiolus saw no reason to delay. Ravus was going to pay for everything he had done. “Thanks, Weskham,” he said as he moved towards the exit.

“Be careful, lad,” Weskham replied. “A son of Tenebrae doesn’t get to be High Commander of the Imperial Army without the strength to enforce it.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Gladiolus found the signs of someone walking swiftly, and heavily, out of the city to the East, just as Weskham said. The person was trying to hide their trail, stepping on rocks and fallen limbs where they could. But the broken branches and occasional armored footprint in the mud led Gladiolus through the forest along the water’s current edge.

The water had receded several feet already, but it was still much higher than normal, and the land was left weakened. The trees creaked and groaned with their weight in the moist soil. Somewhere to his right he heard the clamour of one crashing to the ground after its roots could no longer hold it upright. The ground was littered with wood, glass, and other debris that washed out of the city.

Gladiolus continued to follow the trail until he came to a large tree lying across the ground. Its roots were still dripping mud as they sat exposed. But at the water’s edge, across a small clearing just beyond, he saw the unmistakable white armor of High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret.

Anger welled up inside of him. He raised his arm to summon his blade, but something gave him pause. Ravus was kneeling over another form on the ground. It was fairly large, and covered in tattered white cloth.

“Luna…” Gladiolus breathed out the Oracle’s name in a whisper. As much as he wanted to drive his sword into Ravus’s chest, he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. In this moment, Ravus was nothing more than Lunafreya’s brother mourning his loss.

Gladiolus watched in silence, hidden by the fallen tree, as Ravus lifted Luna’s body onto a broken door. He took time to carefully adjust her arms and legs into a peaceful pose, and secured a single sylleblossom beneath her hands. After setting several oak branches around the perimeter, Ravus paused, with his head lowered towards his sister, then pushed the bier into the water.

Gladiolus bowed his head and whispered, “May your soul return to Eos and your light shine eternal.” The last time he spoke those words had been with a roomful of people fifteen years prior as he held his own, newborn sister in his arms. Iris was born weak, and Gladiolus had made a promise to their mother keep her safe.

Despite her being under Cor’s watchful eye now, he still worried about her safety. What if daemons attacked their house at Cape Caem? What if the Empire hunted them down? Would they kill her as quickly as they killed Jared? Or would they hold her captive, as they did Luna, to be used as bait for him or Noctis?

Or, worse yet, would they take her and lure her to their side, as they had done to Ravus? Could Iris be like the cold-hearted traitor before him? Gladiolus shook the thought from his head and focused his attention on the provisional ceremony once again.

The Oracle’s funeral raft drifted beyond sight as the day turned to dusk. The former High Commander turned away from the water at last. With no searching or hesitation, his gaze settled directly on Gladiolus.

“What do you want?” Ravus demanded.

Gladiolus sucked in a breath and renewed his awareness. How long had Ravus known he was there? He stepped out from behind the tree roots and walked with his head high. “Heard you got demoted. I was worried I wouldn’t get my chance to take you down myself.”

“Have you so quickly forgotten our last encounter?” Ravus asked. He dropped his hand to his hip and drew a sword that was too small for the scabbard he wore. That he didn’t even have King Regis’s blade anymore just made Gladiolus even more mad.

“I’ve been busy,” Gladiolus shouted and summoned his own sword to hand. The glaive had been given to him after he stood against Gilgamesh. Now, Gladiolus let the power it contained mix with his own fervor and channeled it into a single, focused attack against the High Commander.

The two swords rang out as they collided between the two men.

Ravus stood unflinching before his attacker, using the strength of one arm to press his weapon forward. His face showed only a cold, detached determination in his eyes. But despite his outward confidence, Gladiolus could feel the faint give and take of the true effort Ravus needed to counter his attack.

A snarl formed across Gladiolus’s face, and he leaned into his sword. Ravus beat him the last time they were at arms. Since then, Jared Hester had died. Iris and their other friends had gone into hiding. Altissia was in ruins, with so many of its citizens lost. The Oracle was dead. And Noctis was in an unnatural sleep.

The Empire was to blame, and Ravus had been at the front of it all.

Gladiolus let his anger build like a raging fire in his chest. His sword held strong against Ravus’s blade. He slammed his foot into the mud to secure his footing.

How many more cities would fall at his command? How many more people would have to die? The Empire needed to be stopped. Ravus needed to be stopped.

And Gladiolus was going to be the one to do it.

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else!” Gladiolus yelled as he pushed forward, finally breaking the stalemate between their blades. He pressed an attack against Ravus, but each swing struck only the steel of Ravus’s sword. Every step Gladiolus took forward, the next contact made him step back. Every strike from Ravus, he blocked and answered with his own. Ravus was quick and efficient, but his sword did not have the same reach as Gladiolus’s. The two men attacked and counterattacked, advanced and retreated, back and forth around the small clearing.

“You foolishly believe you can safeguard those in your care. Protectors are destined to fail,” Ravus hissed as their fight continued. “All must one day perish, even those who are protected the most.”

“Not on my watch,” Gladiolus growled. He swung his glaive at Ravus once again, but instead of striking steel, it sliced into the High Commander’s right shoulder. Ravus let out a grunt and stumbled away from the blade. Gladiolus pursued him with another attack, and another. As each one landed its mark in the weak spots of the High Commander’s armor, Gladiolus’s anticipation grew.

He was going to stop the danger to Noctis and his friends at the source. He was going to take out Ravus Nox Fleuret once and for all. Gladiolus swung his glaive in a downward arc towards his opponent’s neck.

Ravus halted the attack with his armored left hand, gripping the blade as he stood straight once again. His detached expression gave way to an anger that made Gladiolus mumble a curse. Still holding the blade tightly, Ravus swung his sword at Gladiolus’s side, leaving a stinging cut. Before he could strike again, Gladiolus let his glaive dissipate and stepped back.

“You may have found new strength, but it cannot save all those squandering their lives for the Chosen King,” Ravus said bitterly. He flourished his sword and advanced purposefully on Gladiolus.

“It can take your ass down,” Gladiolus countered, but Ravus’s words had cut into him like their own blade. How many others could he could have saved if it had been different? His father, who had stayed with King Regis as Insomnia fell. Jared, whose life was taken just for knowing the prince’s whereabouts.

They perished in service to the King . Ignis’s voice echoed in Gladiolus’s head as Ravus closed the distance between them and attacked. Gladiolus barely had enough time to recall his sword to block the blow. Ravus persisted, forcing Gladiolus to retreat into the trees, using them for cover when he could.

“They didn’t squander anything,” Gladiolus decided aloud. He dodged behind a tree trunk already leaning heavily to one side. “Besides,” he taunted, “It’s an easy choice when the only alternative is serving the Empire.” He let his sword dissipate and pressed both hands against the bark, pushing with all his might. The tree fell easily, despite Gladiolus’s fatiguing muscles, and forced Ravus to stop his advance.

“And what of those who had no choice?” Ravus yelled from the other side of the obstacle. He slowly but assuredly stalked towards the base of the tree, using the time to recover some of his own strength. “Those who were left to die at the hands of the Imperial Army without a second thought. Those forsaken, and sacrificed, for his destiny!”

Gladiolus frowned as Ravus came around the side of the tree. Noctis had only talked about the Imperial attack on Tenebrae once, about how King Regis had carried him to safety while leaving the Nox Fleuret family behind. The mother had died, but Ravus and Luna survived. And Gladiolus knew the Empire had no reservations finishing an assignment, no matter how valuable the target may be.

“Tell me, Sworn Shield,” Ravus hissed mockingly. “If cooperating with the Empire meant saving the only family you had left, what would you have done?”

Anything , but Gladiolus clenched his teeth shut to hold back the answer he knew Ravus wanted to hear. He let out a growl instead and summoned his sword once again as he charged his foe. Ravus met the blade with his own, and the two began their attacks again.

But Gladiolus felt he was in battle with an entirely different man. Instead of precision attacks and efficient effort, Ravus was recklessly and wildly swinging his sword. It left him open to counter attacks, though he seemed to care even less when Gladiolus’s blade landed its mark. The primal nature of Ravus’s aggression made him dangerous and hard to predict.

The two fought relentlessly as dusk turned into night. In a moment where they paused, each desperately trying to gain back the energy they were expending, the light on Gladiolus’s shirt flickered on. Ravus stood across from him breathing heavily, eyes filled with rage. Gladiolus recognized that hunger, the insatiable need for action to face the world. Before him stood a man broken down by failure. Torn apart by loss. A man whose worst nightmares had come true. Ravus may have been leading the Imperial Army, but he was only doing so to protect Luna. She was gone, and he had failed, and now he had nothing left.

Gladiolus couldn’t let that happen. He needed to take out the Empire, before they could do worse to Noctis. Ravus had been leading the army, which meant he would know how to stop them.

But before Gladiolus could say a word, something heavy collided into his arm, then another into his knees. He let his sword fade to grab one of the small forms and threw it against a tree. Then he felt the slick, oily goo on his hands, and his nose filled with the stench of rotting flesh. Gladiolus yelled out a curse. He summoned his sword again and sliced into one of the daemons as more emerged from the trees. They swarmed him from all sides, rushing in too close for his swords to be effective.

With a yell, Gladiolus let his sword dissipate and ripped off a daemon clawing up his leg with his bare hands, flinging it into the darkness. The next one he grabbed and slammed his fist into it until it felt limp. Another leaped at his head, and Gladiolus backhanded it away. Before they could get close again, Gladiolus reformed his great sword and slammed the blade into the ground.

A shock ran through the mud at his feet, and the daemons were temporarily frozen in place. The tree closest to him swayed, then crashed to the ground. Behind him, he could hear another’s roots lose their grip in the soil and fall, then another. Gladiolus pulled his sword from the ground and swung it at the remaining daemons, and they too fell and dissolved into the mud.

Gladiolus spun his light to see Ravus pinned beneath a fallen tree. More of the small daemons ran towards him along the trunk, eager for a target that could not fight back. Gladiolus also ran towards him, summoning his glaive along the way. Once he got close enough, he swung his sword.

“We’re not finished yet!” he yelled, and his blade sliced through the gathered daemons. He swung again, and again, until they all crumbled to the ground. Ravus squirmed beneath the tree trunk in attempt to free his metal arm. Gladiolus let his sword fade, then reached beneath the trunk.

With a growl that grew into a battle cry, Gladiolus slowly lifted the tree enough for Ravus to slide out from beneath it. The former high commander straightened himself, but he was favoring his right side and his sword was nowhere within sight. He looked Gladiolus squarely in the eyes, like a proud, condemned prisoner awaiting his fate.

“Finish it, then,” Ravus calmly demanded. “Let me join my sister’s fate for the good of your King’s destiny.”

Gladiolus gripped the hilt of his sword and began to gather his anger, as he had always done before. Ravus was the High Commander of the Imperial Army. Under his command, they had attacked Leviathan, and caused Noctis’s slumber. Caused Ignis’s eyes to be injured. Slaughtered so many more Altissians, as thoughtless collateral damage. The Empire was responsible for all of it. For the damage Altissia had taken. For killing Jared Hester. For Iris and Talcott having to hide away in a lighthouse. For the Oracle’s death.

The Empire was to blame.

Gladiolus let out a rush of air from his lungs in a weary sigh, letting his sword fade away. “Noct never wanted any of this,” he said as he dropped onto the trunk of a fallen tree. “Only thing he cared about was Luna’s safety.”

“Then he failed,” Ravus said. He sat down on another trunk not far away. “I lost my sister because of him.”

“All of us have lost people we care about,” Gladiolus replied. “Noct, too. It’s all been because of the Empire. The only way to stop it is for us to take them down, once and for all.”

After a long pause, Ravus asked, “And you believe the King up to the task?”

Gladiolus let out a short laugh. “He sure as hell ain’t going to let them get away with all they’ve done.” The two fell to silence, sitting among the fallen trees. Not even a month ago - hell, not even an hour ago - Gladiolus wanted nothing more than to kill Ravus for all he had done. But it turned out he was just a man, hoping for a life a peace and happiness for his sister. Gladiolus couldn’t blame him for that.

“You know,” Gladiolus broke the silence. “Your help would be pretty useful against the Empire. You should come with us.”

“No,” Ravus said bluntly, drawing Gladiolus’s gaze. “The King of Lucis needs his father’s sword. It was lost during the battle with the Hydraean. I will retrieve it and meet you in Gralea.” Gladiolus nodded his agreement to the idea.

Ravus’s mouth turned up into something resembling a smile. “Ensure he arrives in one piece, Shield. As soon as he is capable.”

“Oh, he will,” Gladiolus promised. “Even if I have to carry him there myself.”

By the time Gladiolus returned to the estate, it was nearly morning. He found Ignis helping Prompto with a King’s Knight game. More accurately, Prompto was giving a play-by-play of the screen, and Ignis was making all the choices. As soon as Gladiolus rounded the corner, Ignis turned his head towards him.

“What’s that I smell?” he asked.

“Weskham’s smoked fish,” Gladiolus responded, setting two boxes on the bedside table. “There’s some eggs and toast in there, too. And this.” Gladiolus set a 12-pack of Ebony on Ignis’s lap.

“Whoa!” Prompto cried. “Where’d you find that much Ebony? It took me forever to find two cans.”

Gladiolus shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.” He left out the part where he bribed, and then threatened, a couple of relief workers just to get it. Seeing Ignis open up a can and savor the taste of it was the important part.

“Hey Prompto,” Gladiolus said next. “You wanna run a couple laps with me? I found the warehouse where they kept all their decorations for that Chocomog festival. Unattended.” Or at least, it would be for another hour or so.

“Oh. My. Gods,” Prompto said as mouth dropped open and his eyes nearly popped out. “Do you even have to ask?! I mean, only if Iggy is okay by himself.” He anxiously looked over at their friend.

“I should like to sit with Noct for a while, if you don’t mind leading me there,” Ignis replied.

“Of course!” Prompto jumped up and was at Ignis’s side in a second. As Prompto guided him out of the room, Ignis paused at the door.

“Thank you, Gladio,” he said.

“Don’t mention it,” Gladiolus replied. “Just want things back to normal as soon as possible.” And that meant wasting no time traveling to Nifleheim, getting the sword from Ravus, and finally taking down the Empire. Just as soon as their King was awake.

2 notes · View notes

empyreanturtle · 7 years

Text

The Darkest Hour, Chapter 2 (A Final Fantasy XV Story)

A/N: Chapter 2... in which I start to explore exactly why Gladio is such an asshole for a few chapters in the game, and we start the slowest burn of relationships in existence XD I wrote these scenes a while ago, long before the Episode Ignis trailers came out, which means they're no longer canon-compliant to the DLC patches - but I don't plan on editing/changing them at all. Also, I currently plan on using this story for some writing practice during NaNoWriMo - I'm not sure of how much of it will actually get shared in the end, but I'm pretty content with these couple of scenes!

AO3 | Chapter 1

Gladiolus sat in a chair in Noctis’s room at the First Secretary’s estate as the prince lay unconscious. Doctors had been in and out of the room all day trying various methods to wake him up with no success. They had initially frowned on Gladiolus’s usual methods for waking Noctis up in the mornings, but even those were tried eventually. In the end, they had concluded that Noctis was under some sort of magical slumber caused by the Hydraean. The stream of people had fizzled out not long after, leaving the room quiet.

“Guess She really took it out of you,” Gladiolus said to the silence. He leaned to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a long, drawn-out breath. What good is a Shield with no one to protect? The Marshal’s words haunted Gladiolus as much as anything they had seen on their journey.

“Just means I’m gonna train you even harder when you wake up,” Gladiolus taunted. “After all, you still have three more blessings to get.” Gladiolus waited for Noctis’s voice, making some wise-ass remark or dismissing the idea entirely. It never came.

Gladiolus frowned and leaned back in the chair once again. “Can’t sleep your way out of this one either. I’ll be here as long as it takes,” he said.

Gladiolus wasn’t going to repeat the same mistake from a day before. He had been too far away, and it had taken him too long, to get back to Ignis after the Imperial shell hit. It was nothing short of a miracle that only his face was damaged. Gladiolus couldn’t help but wonder if Ignis would have been hurt at all, if only Gladiolus had stayed with him instead of splitting up.

But Ignis had been hit, and was recovering in the next room with Prompto at his side. The only thing Gladiolus could do now was wait until Noctis and Ignis recovered, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

He picked up the closest book he saw - an autobiography of First Secretary Camelia Claustra - and began flipping through the pages to pass the time. Gladiolus was barely into the second chapter when Prompto peered around the doorframe.

“Uh, Gladio?” Prompto asked meekly.

“Yeah?”

“I really gotta go,” Prompto replied as he shifted back and forth on his feet uncomfortably. “Can you watch both rooms?”

Gladiolus held back a laugh. Prompto might not have been a fighter like the rest of them were, but his loyalty and devotion were unparalleled. And, his silly optimism had helped take the edge off of Gladiolus’s moods more than once.

“Can’t you piss in a cup or something?” Gladiolus replied with as serious of a tone as he could manage.

“W-w-what?!”

The panicked look on Prompto’s face was exactly what Gladiolus had expected. He smiled at his friend to reveal the joke, then walked to the door. “Why don’t you sit with Noct when you get back? I’ll take a turn with Specs.”

“Ha ha ha, good one, Gladio,” Prompto replied through a forced smile. Gladiolus clapped him on the back to send him down the hallway, then walked into Ignis’s room.

Ninety-eight. Gladiolus bent his elbows and lowered his head to the padded carpet in a hallway of the First Secretary’s estate. He held himself for a beat, then straightened his arms again. Ninety-nine. He repeated the motion one more time. One hundred. After his arms were fully extended, he let his legs fall to the floor and stood up straight.

Gladiolus grabbed his shirt and ran it across his forehead. The rest of his workout would have to wait until Prompto was awake and he could get out of the estate for a while. After only two days of recovery, Altissia was still pretty messed up, but there was a stretch between the estate and the southern camp that was good for a couple sprints. Between sitting at either Ignis’s or Noctis’s bedside, and the broken bits of sleep in between, he was eager for any chance he had to get out and do something.

Gladiolus settled himself in a chair in Ignis’s room. Ignis had first woken up nearly a day ago, but the doctors insisted he stay on bed rest while his wounds healed. Gladiolus and Prompto had been taking turns sitting with him in case he needed anything, while the other stayed with Noctis. To all of their disappointment, Noctis was still out from his battle with the Hydraean.

Ignis’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His bandages completely covered his eyes, but his stillness made Gladiolus conclude that he was asleep. Gladiolus leaned back in the chair and replayed the day of Leviathan’s summoning through his mind again, analyzing every detail to see what could have been done differently for a better outcome.

He never liked the idea that he, Ignis, and Prompto had to be the ones evacuating the city, but the First Secretary was very clear on her requirements. After Prompto had left on that Imperial craft to fly Noctis up to Leviathan, he and Ignis had worked to direct the citizens to safety. Gladiolus would have preferred to be at Noctis’s side, but again, the situation hadn’t given him any chance for it.

Of course, he’d done a piss poor job of protecting Ignis, too. He knew Ignis would tell him that they had done the right thing - splitting up to help more people, instead of sticking together - but it still didn’t change the fact that Ignis had gotten hurt while Gladiolus remained unscathed.

“It should’ve been me,” Gladiolus grumbled under his breath. He clenched both his fists tightly. He couldn’t change the past, but he was going to do everything he could to prevent it from happening again. The Empire was going to pay for what they did.

“Did you say something?” Ignis’s voice came from across the room, startling Gladiolus.

“Shit, Iggy,” he replied. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Unfortunately, my injuries have intervened,” Ignis replied.

“They make pills for that.” Gladiolus walked to Ignis’s bedside table and poured water into a small glass. “Which ones do you want?”

“None, for the time being,” Ignis said. “I can’t think clearly when I’m on them.”

“You’re not supposed to be thinking, you’re supposed to be resting,” Gladiolus replied. He picked out a few pills that he remembered giving Ignis once before.

“I doubt your sentiment would be the same, were you in my position.” Ignis struggled to sit up, but shoved Gladiolus’s hand away when he tried to help.

Gladiolus shook his head in frustration. “Yeah, well, I’m not in your position.” He shoved the glass of water and pills into Ignis’s hands.

Ignis’s mouth turned down in a frown. “There is presumably no shortage of willing Imperials, if you would like to be,” he said sharply.

Gladiolus stepped back in surprise as Ignis swallowed the pills and water. The only other time Ignis had been so short with Gladiolus was that time he interrupted some coffee date nearly five years ago. Even after losing that Imperial Commander at Fort Vaullerey, Ignis hadn’t snapped at Gladiolus or the others.

“My apologies,” Ignis added more softly, when Gladiolus made no reply.

Gladiolus shook his head again. “No,” he replied. “You’re not the one that needs to apologize, Iggy. Niffs did this. They’re gonna apologize for it.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Ignis asked. “You can’t be reckless right now, Gladio.”

“What other option do I have?” Gladiolus asked, hearing his voice grow louder. He felt his anger and frustration rush hotly through his limbs. “I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for them to make their next move.”

“You bloody well know that is not reason we are still here,” Ignis replied, matching his raised tone.

“How could I forget,” Gladiolus grumbled. If Gladiolus had been the Shield he was supposed to be, they would all be healthy and on their way to the Crystal instead.

“Guys?” Prompto walked into the room. “What’s going on?” Their argument must have woken him up, because he was still rubbing the sleep from one eye.

“Gladio was just leaving,” Ignis said, before Gladiolus even had a chance to open his mouth. Prompto spun his head to look at Gladiolus, noticeably confused.

“Yeah, sure,” Gladiolus confirmed resentfully. If Ignis wanted him gone that badly, Gladiolus wasn’t going to object. And running some sprints to the southern camp was sounding pretty appealing. He could at least check in on Weskham while he was there.

“You’ll be back in just a bit, though,” Prompto said quickly. “Right?”

“We’ll see,” Gladiolus replied. When neither of them replied, he added, “Call me if something important happens.” As he walked out of the room, he heard Prompto quietly asking Ignis if he needed anything.

Felicity sat in the center of a small sailboat between four crates of fish. She was headed back to Altissia to unload her catch and deliver one crate to each of the four relief kitchens that the city had set up. One week had passed since Leviathan’s awakening; the First Secretary and the Empire made sure the necessities were handled before focusing on clean up and repair.

After Felicity’s confrontation with Gifre, she had been herded by an Imperial relief force to long rows of tents set up at the outskirts of the city. Not even a full day later, they found her again - one among a short list of names that had classified themselves as a fisherman during the internment process - and herded her to the only pier that had survived Leviathan’s awakening. They had assigned her a number and a boat, much smaller than the Cormoran, and tasked her with filling four crates of fish every day. The Empire hadn’t given Felicity much of a choice, but she didn’t mind providing fish for the city’s recovery.

Three working boys were waiting at the docks as Felicity finished her approach. She barely finished tying off the boat when they grabbed the crates for their respective chefs and began pushing their way through the crowd of people gathered. The crowd wasn’t there for food - the Empire had provided enough ration vouchers for each of them. Instead, they spent their time begging and bribing the fishermen to take them to Lucis to go home, to start a new life, or to just be anywhere other than Altissia. The Empire wasn’t allowing any transport away from the city, so the fishermen’s boats were their only hope.

Felicity double checked that her fishing gear was tied off and that her map and compass were secure in her waist pouches. She lifted the final crate out of the boat, intended for Weskham’s tent, and began pushing her way through the crowd. People immediately started shouting at her from all sides and shoving money pouches in her face as they tried to garner sympathy or intimidate her into helping them get to Lucis. Felicity set her mouth in a thin line and continued pushing through with no response. She wished she could help them, but one less boat bringing in fish meant less food for everyone.

As she got closer to the Imperial tent, where each fisherman had to check out in the morning and check back in at night, the crowd’s volume dropped to whispers before suddenly ending several paces from the tent. They hadn’t taken long to learn the consequences of an Imperial overhearing their attempts to illegally get out of the city.

Felicity quickly filled in her catch amount in the log, beneath the writing of the three worker boys that had taken her other crates. A young Imperial soldier hovered over her shoulder as she finished, and the way he read her record aloud, she knew he was new to the post.

The Imperial smirked, “So Merric failed to pick up the last load.”

Felicity shook her head. “I told him not to. I prefer to deliver it myself, sir.”

The soldier clucked his tongue at her. “Not your decision to make.”

“So long as the delivery is done, does it really matter who makes it?” Felicity asked. She gave the soldier a shrug and a smile before picking up the crate again. The soldier mumbled under his breath, but waved her on.

Felicity’s smile dropped as soon as her back was to the soldier. In truth, Felicity learned from Weskham that Merric, the fourth working boy, only had a younger brother left for family after the chaos from a week prior. Ever since, Felicity tried to make sure she would be the last boat to dock, so Merric could go off his shift early and take care of his brother. She knew it wasn’t much, but since the only inconvenience of it was to herself, she had to do what she could.

Felcity entered the perimeter of the southern camp where Weskham’s food station resided. The Empire and First Secretary had set up each of the chefs with a larger tent than most, in exchange for help preparing food for the people in their respective camps. As Felicity got closer, she heard Weskham talking to a deep-voiced man inside.

“And where are you headed?” Weskham asked.

“The tomb at Cartanica,” the other man replied.

Felicity rounded the corner, clearing her throat. I doubt I was supposed to hear that.

“Ah, welcome!” Weskham motioned towards his stove in the corner. “In the usual place.” The man sitting at the long table inside tensed and eyed Felicity suspiciously. He had more muscles than even the ironsmith, brazenly on display beneath an unbuttoned shirt. Felicity averted her eyes and carried the crate over to the corner indicated.

“Are you going by boat the whole way?” Weskham asked the man. Felicity waited for his reply, but before it came, Weskham spoke again, “Don’t worry about her. She can be trusted.”

“Yeah,” the man said after another second. Felicity had never seen him before at Mhaago, but the way he so quickly accepted Weskham’s judgement, he had to be someone who knew Weskham well. “It’ll take a while, since we’ll only travel in the day,” he continued. “Won’t know enough of where we’re going to travel at night.”

Felicity snorted as she tried to hold back a laugh. Guppies. She looked up to see him raising his eyebrows at her, and she couldn’t tell if the look on his face was from annoyance, amusement, or both.

“You don’t need to know where you’re going to travel at night by boat,” she clarified.

“That so?” the man asked.

Felicity nodded. “All you need is a compass and a good map.” From his work counter, Weskham chuckled softly.

The man crossed his arms and made a noise of contemplation. “Hm. Don’t suppose you mind sharing the how of all that,” he said.

Felicity gave him a knowing smile then walked to the empty side of the table. She pulled out her map and opened it to the sea around Accordo, then set her compass on top. “Here,” she said. “Easier if I show you.”

The man came over and leaned over her shoulder to look at the map. Felicity tensed up, despite silently reminding herself not all men were leches like Roux. To her relief, the man took a step back from her and leaned on the edge of the table instead. She cleared her throat, then pointed to a spot in the sea.

“Say you’re here. And you want to go over here,” she dragged her finger across the map to another point. “You’ll want to sail west-north-west, and go a total of ten miles.”

The man nodded along as she spoke.

“If you know how fast you’re going, and have a way to keep time, you know how far you’ve travelled,” Felicity finished. “Just be sure you know exactly where you are before you start.”

“Seems easy enough,” he said. “But what about rocks and shit?”

“Maps are good for more than just directions,” Felicity stated. She pointed at a few symbols that littered the area between Accordo and Lucis. “Those indicate rocky waters. Stay clear of those at night, and you should be fine.”

The man smiled at her and crossed his arms once again. “Last question. Where can I find a good map and compass?”

Felicity smiled back. It had been far too long since someone had genuinely asked for her advice, and even longer since they had taken it. “Take those,” she offered.

He raised his eyebrows at her again. “Won’t you need them?”

She shrugged, “Nah, I know these waters well enough. And if I do need another set, I can get them easier than you could.”

“Thanks,” the man mumbled as he worked on folding up the map.

“Just remember, lad,” Weskham chimed in, “Speed doesn’t help if you’re dead before you get there.”

“I just want all this done with as quick as possible,” the man said. He tucked the map and compass into his pockets. “I should get back. Take care of yourself, Weskham.”

“You as well,” Weskham replied. “Give my regards to the others.” The man nodded his agreement, then left the tent.

As soon as the man was gone, Weskham turned his attention to Felicity. “How are you doing? What news is there from the docks?”

“Nothing new,” Felicity replied as she took a seat at the table. “More people arriving daily, getting more desperate to get away.”

Weskham nodded. “I imagine the crowd will only continue to grow.” He paused, then asked, “Has there been any word of the crew from the Cormoran?”

Felicity shook her head, but averted her eyes. Weskham already knew most of the crew had perished, but she hadn’t told him the details of her final encounter with Gifre. She certainly didn’t regret anything she had done, but Gifre was the first man she had killed that wasn’t an order from someone else. It was easy to ignore emotional burden of the decision to take someone's life when it could be excused as just following directions.

“Well,” Weskham said, filling the brief silence, “If they never find the captain, I for one wouldn’t be disappointed.” Felicity gave him a grateful smile in return. “Did I ever tell you about the time Clarus fought off pirates during one of our fishing trips?”

“You have,” Felicity replied as her smile grew into a grin. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy 15 fanfiction #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ff15 #gladio x oc #gladiolus x oc #gladiolus amicitia #original character #prompto argentum #gladio #prompto #noctis lucis caelum #ignis scientia #ignis #weskham #weskham armaugh

1 note · View note

empyreanturtle · 7 years

Text

The Darkest Hour, Chapter 1 (A Final Fantasy XV Story)

A/N: This was originally planned as a prologue to a larger Gladio/OC romance fic. I only have a couple of scenes completed, and have no plans on writing more right now, but I do want to share what I have! Gladiolus was my #1 chocobro from the early demo and forever on. My plan was to explain some deeper motivations to his in-game actions, as well as introduce a more permanent love interest for him. This first chapter/prologue is the introduction of that character, Felicity. It is mostly canon-compliant with the main game, and also canon-compliant with my good friend’s story, Solstice.

A very special thanks to @captain-zajjy for encouraging and beta-reading this work!

Full work: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11896992

Felicity Surrigo watched from the bow of the fishing vessel, Cormoran, as the city of Altissia floated into sight from behind a cliff. Even after five years of the same view nearly every day, the beauty of the city never failed to fill her with a moment of hope.

“Surrigo!”

Felicity cringed as the feeling was ripped away by the grating voice of Captain Gifre. She hurried to coil the rest of the rope as she made her way towards the mast and tied it down to the deck.

“I swear yer slower than a sea slug,” Captain Gifre complained.

Around the boat, the crew prepared to offload their catch from the last two days. The first mate Dax yelled at the greenhorn Tym for making the same mistakes the first mate had made just a few hours earlier. The fiery Roux skittered around the mast and yards tying up the sails beneath the distinctive flags of a white sea bird on navy blue. The ironsmith - the man so silent he had never even given the crew his name, so they just called him by his primary job - was inspecting each bit of their gear, taking stock of what repairs he would have to make on the ship while docked. Felicity was on clean up, as usual, finishing all the jobs the others had abandoned or never even started.

Roux swung down to the deck in front of Felicity. The seawater and sweat had made his bright red hair curl even more than usual. He had only joined the crew a few months ago, not long after Gifre had taken over as captain, but had spent most of his life serving other vessels on the sea.

“Hey, Surrigo,” he said with a lopsided smile.

“Hey, Roux,” Felicity replied. She avoided eye contact with him, as usual. Not that it ever discouraged him.

“We’re coming into port soon,” Roux stated. “When are you gonna let me show you around?”

She knew reminding him that she had lived in Altissa for the last five years wouldn’t make a difference. “That all depends on the Captain,” she replied.

“He’s planning on staying in harbor the next two days,” Roux said with a smirk. Of course he already talked to the captain. Felicity kept a straight face, revealing neither her annoyance at Roux’s persistence or her joy at the news. The next morning, the Oracle was going to summon the goddess Leviathan, and two days off meant Felicity would actually be able to attend the ceremony.

“So how about it?” Roux asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“We’ll see,” she replied vaguely. The last time she had said no outright - at least two months ago - Roux had cornered her until she agreed to a ‘maybe.’ Captain Gifre had done nothing, just looked on with mild amusement.

“Surrigo!” The captain yelled at her again for her delay of tasks, conveniently ignoring Roux’s similar offense. Ever since Gifre had taken over the ship six months prior, his favorite display of power was singling Felicity out every chance he had. She had never been disrespectful to him - she knew better than that - but the previous captain had favored her, something Gifre always hated.

Still, Felicity went back to her chores on the ship without any complaint. No matter how much the crew taunted and tormented her, it was still better than her life had been in Lestallum. She’d tolerate Gifre and Roux twice over, so long as she had work, food, and a place to sleep.

Just over an hour later, Felicity watched as Dax lowered the last of their fish onto the delivery boat below. She swung her legs over the rail - one part of the job she actually enjoyed was bringing the fish to the various restaurants and vendors - but stopped when she heard the captain yell her name again.

“Where d’you think yer going?” he asked. Felicity didn’t bother to answer, and instead swung back onto the boat.

“My ship needs to be spotless for the awakening tomorrow,” Captain Gifre continued. “All of us know yer the only bitch stupid enough to stick around and do it.”

Felicity sucked in a breath to prevent her sigh from escaping. Only stupid enough to follow your orders. “Yes, Captain,” she replied instead. Cleaning the ship had always been Tym’s task, before Gifre had taken over. Nearly seven years younger than her, the boy earned a place on the ship under the old Captain Aarao doing all the tasks a person can do before they learn how to fish. But Gifre was buying loyalty, and he didn’t seem interested in earning hers.

While she got out the mop and bucket, she heard the captain assign delivery of the fish to Tym, then walk off with Dax and Roux not far behind. The ironsmith lingered on the ship, inspecting the outer hull for any damage sustained during their voyage.

Once the captain and his two lackeys were out of sight, a whisper came from the delivery boat below, “Surrigo?” Felicity leaned over the rail.

Tym sat in the boat looking up at her, bewildered. “I don’t know where to go, or how much to deliver, or…”

“The First Secretary’s estate. Then the stalls outside the Leville. Then Mhaago. The stalls and Mhaago each get half of whatever the estate doesn’t want. Tell them you’re from the Cormoran , and they won’t give you any trouble with the payments,” she explained. Gifre was still earning his reputation with the vendors - or failing to, in some cases. But the fishing boat’s name was still one held in high regard.

“Thanks, Surrigo,” the boy replied and shoved off.

Felicity smiled and returned to cleaning. Good luck, kid.

“You are nice to him,” the rare, deep voice of the ironsmith rumbled. Most of the crew had never heard more than a few words from the man, but Felicity always tried to be friendly to him, especially when they were left behind on the boat alone.

Felicity nodded. “Someone needs to be.”

“He will turn on you,” the man declared. “Captain will see to it.”

Felicity sighed inwardly. “I know,” she said truthfully. “But Captain Aarao would have wanted it this way.”

The ironsmith clucked his tongue at her. “You should be more careful. Captain does not like to hear that name. He does not want anyone to know.”

Know? “Know what?” she asked.

“It is nothing,” he replied. “What is in the past cannot be undone.”

Felicity felt her heart begin to race. Captain Aarao’s death six months prior had been attributed to a sharp decline in health. But Felicity had spent every day with the man for nearly five years, and Gifre’s sudden elevation to captain afterwards seemed to go a bit too smoothly. If there was a reason, a real one, for why Captain Aarao died so suddenly, she had to know it.

“Please,” she begged, “Do you know something?” She knew from experience that quiet people were often mistaken to be hard of hearing as well. What have you heard?

The man shook his head. “It is too dangerous for you.”

“I don’t care,” Felicity said in a rare moment of rashness.

The ironsmith shook his head again more vigorously. “I made a mistake in saying. Please do not ask again.”

Felicity sighed, but nodded her agreement. She didn’t want to press her luck with the one person on board that was genuinely nice to her.

“Would you like help cleaning?” the ironsmith asked her.

“No, but thank you,” Felicity replied. The empty ship reminds me of when Captain Aarao was still alive. “Please, go enjoy yourself.”

The man gave a nod of his head and exited the ship.

By the time Felicity finished cleaning the boat, the sun was low on the horizon. She rushed to her cabin and began filling a bag with a few clothes, her gil, and a couple meal bars. On top, she placed her two most prized possessions - a fishing knife with the Hydraean’s image carved into the hilt, and her ragged copy of Cosmogeny. Captain Aarao had given both to her as a gift when she first joined his crew.

If you are faithful to the Gods, they will be kind in return, he had promised. She started praying with him to Leviathan and the rest of the Six that very same day, and their fishing haul that day was the largest of the season. Felicity earned enough money to buy a real meal and a room for herself at the inn for the first time in years.

Ever since that day, Felicity’s life had improved. She learned how to fish and navigate the sea. Captain Aarao was kind to her. The rest of the crew were a rough group, but they never hit her or forced anything on her. One man had tried, only a month after she came aboard, but Captain Aarao intervened and left the man’s fate to Leviathan.

But more important than the rest, from the day she started praying to the Six, Felicity knew she would never have to live dependant on anyone ever again. Of all Her blessings, Felicity thanked Leviathan for that one the most.

Felicity cinched the top of her bag and slung it over her shoulder. It was too late to go to the Hydraean’s altar that night, but Mhaago would still be open. Weskham’s stories of his travels across Lucis always made the long days seem worth it. She stepped into the passageway and saw a dark silhouette leaning against the doorframe at the other end.

“In a hurry to leave, Surrigo?” Gifre’s voice echoed down the wood paneling.

Gods damn it. She managed to keep her face emotionless, but averted her eyes downward. “Just finished all the cleaning, Captain,” she replied.

Gifre looked around the hallway and seemed to nod in approval. “I guess it’ll be good enough. We’ll see when my guests come on board for the awakening tomorrow.”

Felicity tightened her grip on her bag, waiting for the Captain to reveal what he really wanted from her. Gifre took a long draw from an unlabeled bottle. After several seconds of silence, Felicity walked towards the captain. Please let me just leave. When she got within three paces, the stench of liquor hit her like a wall, and as she tried to step through the door, he braced his arm against the opposite frame to block her path.

“Everything I do for you, and not even a ‘thank you,’” he sneered.

Felicity swallowed back several retorts that came to mind. He’s drunk. Just find a way to get past him. “I appreciate everything you do for us, Captain,” she said as genuinely as she could manage. “We’re lucky to have you on the ship.”

Gifre shook his head and chuckled. “Not for the crew, Surrigo. For you. Y’think Roux would’ve let you be if I hadn’t given you the ship to clean? Damn ginger wouldn’t shut up about how I ruined his night.”

Felicity clamped her mouth shut. He really thinks he did me a favor? she thought with horror.

“And all I get in return is yer judging me all the time,” Gifre continued. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s goin’ on in that head of yers.” He tapped her temple with his finger, as if to prove his point.

Felicity recoiled, and shook her head to disguise the reaction. “It’s not my place to judge, Captain.”

“Damn right it’s not!” He took another long draw from his bottle. “Listen, Surrigo. One day you’ll wake up and realize I did ye a favor. And when ye do, I expect somethin’ in return. Got it?”

“Yes, Captain,” Felicity said automatically. She wasn’t sure what favor he thought he did for her. She certainly couldn’t think of anything in all the time she knew him. I hope I never find out, she thought to herself, And never owe him anything for it.

“Yer a sweet girl, and a pretty good fisher,” Gifre said as he finally moved out of her way. “You’ll see one day what I can really do for you.”

As the captain walked down the passageway to his quarters, Felicity let out a long breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. Leviathan, please save me from this mad man, she prayed, then left the boat as quickly as she could.

The next morning, Felicity stood among the throngs of people gathered in front of podium where the Oracle would be giving her address. After visiting Weskham at his restaurant, she had spent most of the night scrubbing her clothes spotless and shining the blade of the Hydraean knife. She even spent far too much time in the mirror that morning tying up her hair in something vaguely resembling a style she once saw in a photo of Lady Lunafreya. Today was likely to be one of the most important days of her life, and Felicity wanted to look her best for it.

She went to the plaza early to guarantee a close view. She was faithful to the Six, and both admired and revered the Oracle for her connection to them. The Hydraean knife hung on her belt; it was her only possession that seemed worthy enough for the occasion. What I wouldn’t give for the chance to hear Leviathan’s response as I lay it on Her altar!

Felicity waited for what seemed like an eternity before the Oracle finally approached the podium. Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret brought her hands together in prayer, and it sent a tingling rush through Felicity’s body. We will be praying together, she realized.

“Dear friends,” the Oracle began. “I stand before you today with little hope the words I speak shall reach beyond these walls...”

Felicity listened intently as the Oracle continued on about the darkness of the world. Ever since the first news that Lady Lunafreya would be marrying the prince of Lucis, Felicity had been glued to her radio. She had gone through an entire spectrum of emotion through news that Lady Lunafreya and Prince Noctis had died, that the Oracle had lived, and rumors that the Prince had made it out of Insomnia as well. Now, the Oracle was in Altissia, Felicity’s home, standing barely thirty feet away, informing the crowd of her intent to summon Leviathan.

Felicity swallowed back the swell of emotion that threatened to escape her. The news reports from the last couple of weeks had said that Titan had already been awakened, and Ramuh as well, if the rumors were to be believed. Felicity worshipped all of the Six, but Leviathan had always been her favorite. She had faith that even out in the middle of the sea, far away from any altar, Leviathan could still hear her prayers and would protect her from any harm.

As Lady Lunafreya spoke of Lucis, Felicity’s mind began to wander to what Leviathan might do once awakened. Will She give us Her blessing? Will the Oracle allow us to speak to Her, and present our gifts in person? Felicity fingers brushed along the knife’s hilt at her belt. I will give it to Her from the both of us, Captain Aarao, she silently promised to her deceased friend.

Cheers from the crowd broke Felicity’s train of thought. The Oracle, having finished her speech, gave a small nod, then withdrew from the podium. This is it, Felicity thought as she sucked in a breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She gripped the hilt of the knife as the crowd surged around her.

The people of Altissia rushed to get as close to the summoning altar as the city guard would allow. Areas directly on the water were blocked off, which meant people pressed their way to the platforms and open areas just above. Felicity was among them, but despite her height, she couldn’t see beyond the shoulders and heads of those who had managed to get in front of her.

This is worthless, she thought dejectedly. I have to find a better place to see. She backed away from her spot, one that was filled in an instant by those nearby, and made her way to the edge of the crowd. An idea came to her, and Felicity quickly made her way back up the steps to the First Secretary’s estate, around the side, and to the channel she so often used to deliver fish. She ran along the edge of its frame, following its path towards the harbor.

When she reached the loch between the two levels, Felicity jumped from the channel’s edge to the sidewalk nearby. From there, she moved past abandoned buildings - evacuated at the First Secretary’s request - across a bridge and down an alley way she once used to hide from Roux. At the end of the alley, Felicity pressed up against a fence that prevented people from getting too close to the level’s edge.

Felicity let out a sigh of relief as the Oracle’s voice rang out in song. Thank the Six. Through the bars, she could make out the Oracle standing on a platform a level below. She wasn’t close by any definition of the word, but the silence and seclusion of her viewing point allowed her to just barely hear the Oracle’s song and words.

In the sea beyond, Felicity saw the outlines of various fishing and pleasure boats, owned by the captains brave enough to go against the First Secretary’s docking orders. She was sure the Cormoran was among them, after Gifre had ordered the ship cleaned. Felicity tried to make out the navy blue sails of the boat, but all of them were too far away to be sure.

As Lady Lunafreya’s song faded away, a sound like nothing Felicity had ever heard before echoed across the water. It was like a thousand voices in unison speaking a language the world had long forgotten. Felicity seemed to hear the sound all around her and feel it deep within her soul.

Leviathan.

Felicity grasped the bars of the fence in front of her tightly. Her entire body felt like it was sparked by lightning. She searched the water below looking for any sign of the Goddess as the Oracle spoke to Her. The world seemed to slow down. Felicity knew her heart was racing, but in that moment waiting for the Goddess to appear, each beat felt like an eternity from the last.

Then, from the calm waters before the Oracle’s platform, a serpent-like creature rose straight into the air. It had to be nearly fifty fathoms tall. Felicity fell backwards from the fence as she tried to look up at Her. The breath Felicity has been holding finally came out whispering, “Goddess.”

Felicity felt like her heart was going to explode. The last five years she had worshipped the Hydraean. In that time, she had felt the first sort of peace or happiness since before her father had been killed by the Imperials while on one of his journeys. Leviathan had protected her, listened to her prayers, and answered them. Leviathan, the being rising from the water below, had blessed her with a better life.

Felicity rose to her feet with her eyes transfixed on the Goddess of the Sea. The Oracle continued to speak to Her, and Her voice filled the air in response.

Then an explosion erupted at the back Leviathan’s head, and another along Her long spine. Felicity jerked her head in the direction the blast came from, only to see an Imperial ship smoking with the aftermath of a fired cannon.

No, Felicity thought angrily, You can’t take Her, too. She pressed herself against the fence again. “Leviathan, please,” she prayed, “Sink these Imperials once and for…” Felicity’s voice trailed off as the Goddess sent a wave of water directly at the Oracle, knocking her to her knees. Felicity felt her brow furrow. Why would She try to harm the Oracle?

In between the Imperial blasts and Leviathan’s increasingly menacing voice, Felicity heard Lady Lunafreya scold the Astral regarding the worship and praise She received. Leviathan made a sound that could only be described as a growl, and clamped her jaws around the Oracle. Felicity could hardly believe what she was seeing. The Goddess of the Sea, the guardian deity of Altissia, had angrily taken the only human capable of communing with Her and tried… to eat her.

“Leviathan!”

The Oracle’s voice rang out over the water and a beam of light shot straight into the air. A blast sounded from the platform, and the Hydraean recoiled back, revealing the Oracle safely standing there. Felicity’s relief was quickly cut short as Leviathan roared into the sky once again. The tone of Her voice dropped low. Felicity couldn’t understand the words She spoke, but it was a tone she recognized all too well - an ominous and brazen threat.

Felicity turned away from the fence and leaned back against a wall. She felt like her lungs had filled with water. Every breath she tried to take came up short. How could this angry, hostile serpent be the same Goddess that protected and blessed her so many times?

Felicity felt sick.

Another roar from the Goddess of the Sea pulled Felicity’s attention once again to the water below. Leviathan had begun spiraling in the air. In the distance, the boats viewing the ceremony rose with a wave larger than any Felicity had seen in even the worst storms. The Imperial ships continued their assault despite their moving target. One of their blasts hit a portion of the lowest level of the city after Leviathan avoided the attack, and another followed shortly after.

It’s become a warzone, she thought in horror.

A rumbling sound behind her made Felicity turn her attention away from the battle below. It sounded like a wave crashing against the side of a hundred boats all at once. The ground beneath her began to vibrate and the glass on the windows rattled like marbles in a jar.

“Shit,” Felicity exclaimed as water began to pour around the corners of the buildings at the end of the alleyway. She quickly climbed to the top of the fence, steadying herself against the building, before jumping for a balcony further away than she cared to worry about.

Her hands hit the railing and her body collided with the stone base. Her fingers curled tightly as she try to get a grip on the metal. Beneath her, the water rushed out of the alleyway and onto the next level below.

You’re dead if you fall, she scolded herself. She let one hand slip from the upper railing and grasped one of the lower bars tightly. The secure hold allowed her to fix her grip of the other hand, and pull herself up and over the rail. Felicity looked down to where she had been standing only moments prior to see a wall of crates, tables, and debris crushed against the metal rails as the fence filtered the water passing through.

Leviathan protect me, she thought, more out of habit than any belief that the being causing this destruction had any concern for her. She grabbed for the knife at her waist. The wooden hilt, once beautifully carved with the Hydraean’s image, was now cracked and missing several chunks from her impact with the balcony. But the blade was still intact, and she used it to pry open the door to the building.

Felicity found herself in someone’s home full of children’s toys and knickknacks that were left behind when the family evacuated. After securing the knife to her belt once again, she moved through to the windows on the opposite side, looking out of each one. Finally, at the back of the home, one of the windows opened above a support column for the bridge crossing the overflowing waterway below.

Felicity climbed onto the stone ledge made slick with water. She was more used to ropes and wooden beams, but the ornate carvings along the edge of the bridge gave her enough hand and foot holds to pull herself up and over the wall. She rushed to the opposite side where she could once again see the Oracle’s platform among the chaos below.

Felicity’s eyes focused on the Oracle just as she was stabbed by a man dressed in black.

“No!” she screamed out in horror. But the man calmly bowed to the Oracle, as his long coat flowed behind him, and left on an Imperial ship. Felicity backed away from the stone wall of the bridge. Her world, and her city, was falling apart, and she was helpless to it all. A voice echoed in her mind, What good is it to pray when the Goddess you worship is the cause of this chaos?

The sound of twenty footsteps in unison made Felicity focus her attention to the street. A unit of magitek soldiers marched directly at her. With a gasp, she ducked behind the bridge’s column, but she was sure they had seen her.

This can’t be it. Felicity squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for their bullets to hit her. The guns fired, but she felt no impact or injury. She slowly opened one eye, then the other. The unit had gone to the crest of the bridge and fired on the Hydraean instead. Felicity didn’t wait for them to change their minds. She jumped to her feet and ran in the direction they came.

As she turned the first corner she came to, she nearly collided with a wooden beam. She ducked and slid underneath, immediately backpedaling to avoid collision with a wooden wall. It was a sailboat with red flag, laying on its side and blocking Felicity’s path. One of the ones that had been out viewing the summoning, Felicity surmised.

She used the ropes to pull herself on top of the hull. From her new vantage point, she could see several other ships had met a similar fate. The swirling wall of water Leviathan raised had taken all the boats from the sea and spun them directly into the city.

But even more concerning was that the route she had planned to take, to get to the higher ground at the First Secretary’s estate, was just gone. The bridges and rooftops that would have kept Felicity above the water were just broken remnants floating in the water beyond.

The ship beneath her groaned and began to slide back into the rising water. Felicity ran along the hull and jumped from the bow, landing in ankle-deep water on the next rooftop. Behind her, Leviathan’s roars and growls had become eerily absent. Felicity turned back to the water to see Her falling downwards as water sprayed from her underside.

She is finished, Felicity thought. She knew she should feel horrified at the thought, but she couldn’t help feeling some relief.

Leviathan laboriously raised Herself into the air one last time and let out a noise of desperation. Around Her, the water glowed with yellow light as a rock rose from the surface.

Not a rock, Felicity realized. It’s the Archaean.

Felicity fell to her knees, and the water on the roof came up to her waist. Please, Titan, she silently prayed. Please protect Altissia. Make Leviathan see the devastation She is causing.

The building beneath her suddenly began to tremble as Titan raised his fist into the air. She tried to stand, but was almost immediately knocked off her feet. She crawled towards a doorway at the far edge of the rooftop as quickly as the quaking and rushing water would allow.

Just as she reached the door, Titan slammed his fist into the water before him. Towers of glowing, yellow rock appeared out of nowhere. All around her, Felicity could hear the snaps of rock and stone breaking apart. One of the bell towers tilted, then fell to the city below. Buildings broke apart, the stone edges of the higher levels of the city collapsed. The entire world seemed to shudder in pain.

The only pieces of the city that had remained untouched from Leviathan’s fury were crumbling to the ground.

The water around Felicity started to rise rapidly. The towering wave surrounding Altissia began to fall with an impending white wall rushing across the city. Felicity struggled to open the door, hoping the stone would provide relative safety and an air pocket inside. She threw her weight against the door, then did so again and again until finally she heard the wood crack. She stepped back readied herself for one last push.

The water of Leviathan’s wall rushed over Felicity with the power of a thousand waves. She tried to reach for the door, the stone, anything to hold on to. But everything was out of her grasp, and she was swept away in the wave.

Open your eyes to Their light, and you will never be lost.

Captain Aarao’s voice echoed in Felicity’s head. She felt weightless, like she was soaring with the clouds. She reluctantly opened her eyes to a world of blue. She was soaring. She was above the city of Altissia, looking down on the lowest level at the sidewalks surrounding Mhaago. The canals nearby looked strangely empty, yet she could see fish swimming within their walls. In fact, there were fish everywhere, floating in the air with her.

I’m under water.

As the realization swept over her, Felicity heard the memory of Captain Aarao’s voice again. Even in the darkest depths of the seas, Their light will guide you. She pushed back the fear and panic that threatened to drown her and searched for the brightest light in the water and the infallible path to the surface it would provide.

It was nowhere to be found.

She clamped a hand over her nose and mouth to prevent them from sucking water into her lungs. Up, she resolved. Go up. Keeping Mhaago beneath her, Felicity kicked and pulled her way through the water. Her lungs burned with desperation as she made her way towards what she hoped was the surface.

Air rushed into Felicity’s lungs as her head finally came above the water.

The remnants of Leviathan’s wall descended on Altissia as a steady rain. Both the Hydraean and the Archaean were nowhere to be found. In their place, a chorus of a hundred cries for help echoed over the water. People clung to anything they could get their hands on to stay afloat.

Felicity swam towards the part of the city that now made up the shore. She pulled herself onto a stairway that once connected the second and third levels of Altissia. The bottom of the stairs were underwater, and the top led to a crater left by one of the Imperial shells. Felicity spun around in horror as she realized exactly how much destruction had come to Altissia.

As she turned away from the First Secretary’s estate, Felicity saw the wreckage of a boat several streets away that had met its demise colliding into a stone structure that was once a large platform looking over the canals. It was only one of many that had met a similar fate, but what caught Felicity’s attention was the mast. One of the only pieces of the ship still intact, it boasted navy blue flags with a white sea bird.

The Cormoran.

Felicity carefully navigated her way through the rubble towards the ship. A feeling of apprehension grew steadily in her chest the closer she got. Her crewmates may not have been her favorite people in the world, but they were still her crewmates. As Felicity moved closer, she could see more and more of the damage.

The stern was broken off entirely, and by the splintered wood at the tear, Felicity suspected it was from an Imperial shell. The mast, despite standing vertical, was leaning significantly from its base. Several dark stains blemished the deck she had so meticulously cleaned the night before. The bow had a gaping hole ripped into its side from the impact with the stone, revealing the hallway where Gifre had cornered her just before she left the ship. To Felicity, it felt like an eternity had gone by since then.

She inhaled sharply when she saw a crumpled form at the end of that hallway, only recognizable by his bright red hair. Roux. She immediately felt guilty at the twinge of freedom his fate meant for her when she saw the smaller shape of Tym a bit further away.

As she scanned the wreckage for any sign of life - and finding none - her prayer from the previous night, the request to be saved from Gifre, echoed in her mind. I didn’t mean it like this, she thought. I would have endured a thousand years of his madness if it would have saved their lives.

With a sigh, Felicity stepped away from the boat and turned her attention to the ship’s debris strewn across the platform. She found a compass that she fastened to her belt next to the Hydraean knife, a few articles of the clothing she had left behind, and a small knapsack to stuff them in. She didn’t bother with the broken pieces of other navigation tools, or things that had belonged to the others. After gathering what she could, she knelt overlooking the edge of the platform and tied off her sack.

“Surrigo,” a grating voice sneered from behind her before dissolving into a coughing fit.

Felicity stiffened. It can’t be. She slowly stood and turned to the source to see Gifre leaning wearily against a broken wall of stone.

“Of all my crew to survive, of course it was ye,” he said. Felicity was frozen in disbelief, but her mind echoed the captain’s sentiment.

“Were all yer prayers answered by the Goddess of the Sea?” he mocked. He walked towards her, and it looked like a lungful of water was the worst that had happened to him that day. “Did you pray for my ship to be destroyed?”

“N-no,” Felicity stammered out. “Of course not.” I never wanted this to happen.

“O’ course not,” he repeated with a sinister smile. He motioned with his arms to the rubble around them. “A little hard for yer prayers to be answered when the ‘gods’ yer prayin’ to are too busy with all this.”

The words twisted like a knife in Felicity’s chest. She didn’t want to believe him, believe that all her prayers had been for nothing, but after what she had seen that day, she couldn’t find the will to disagree.

Gifre moved through the debris from the ship, picking out various items that survived the wreck, many of which weren’t his to begin with. He made a noise of disappointment as he looked over the boat. “A shame, really,” he said. “I was gettin’ close to expanding to a fleet, y’know.”

Felicity stayed silent. What would he do if I just walked away? she wondered.

“Ye could’ve had yer own boat,” he said, intriguing her enough to stay. He stood and crossed his arms, staring at her. “I had the money for a second ship, a bit smaller. Wasn’t gonna be free, o’ course. But I was waitin’ fer the right time. Waitin’ on ye.”

Felicity’s brow furrowed. “Me? But wouldn’t Dax...”

Gifre cut her off, “That stupid oaf? His sorry ass couldn’t tell north from south. Ye had the skill for it, Surrigo, so It would’ve been ye, if ye had woken up any sooner. But there wasn’t gonna be any ‘Goddess of the Sea’ shit on any boat in my fleet.”

Woken up? What is he talking about? Ever since Captain Aarao had died, Gifre and his lackeys always taunted her faith in Leviathan. Felicity attributed their lower pay to less fish, a result of their offending Her with their comments. He was pocketing most of it for himself, she realized. Leviathan had nothing to do with it.

When Felicity didn’t respond, Gifre continued, “It was bad enough with Aarao leavin’ good people’s fates to Leviathan.” He spit at the ground in disgust. “My brother didn’t die because Leviathan decided it. He died because the bastard walked him off the plank in the middle of the sea.”

Felicity remembered the first time Captain Aarao ordered one of the crew to go overboard, only a few months after she had joined up. ‘The Hydraean will determine his punishment,’ Captain Aarao had said that day. And she believed him, and believed Leviathan would protect the man if he was innocent.

Gifre let out a cynical chuckle. “But he realized, in the end, there’s no goddess deciding who should live and who should die. Not for my brother, and not for Aarao either. He died foolishly believing Leviathan would save him.”

“Don’t talk about the Captain that way,” Felicity said, a bit more forcefully that she intended.

“The Captain?” A look of disdain came over Gifre’s face and he lunged at her. Before she could react, he closed the distance between them. His fist connected with her jaw, knocking her to her knees.

“I am your Captain!” he shouted. He pushed the sole of his boot against Felicity’s shoulder until her back was on the stone. “Ye think without a ship, that suddenly I ain’t yer Captain anymore?”

Felicity tried to squirm away, but Captain Gifre pinned her beneath his foot. Leviathan, why did you destroy so much, yet leave this man? But she knew the Hydraean wasn’t listening, and probably never had been.

Gifre dropped to his knees over her and leaned down into her face. “This is the thanks I get, is it? I did ye a favor and gave ye a chance to be something more than the bastard’s acolyte,” he said, his voice growing louder and angrier on each word. “An’ after all this time, yer loyalty is still only to him!” His hands encircled her throat and pushed down threateningly on it. “I should’ve gotten rid of ye as soon as I took over!”

“No!” Felicity struggled beneath him. Her hands grasped for anything she could find, anything that could help her get away from him. “Please,” she begged in ragged gasps, “Gods, please stop.”

“Yer ‘gods’ didn’t save Aarao from what I did to him, and they can’t save you now,” he hissed.

Felicity’s eyes went wide with clarity. He killed him. And he’s going to kill me too. Her fingers frantically searched at her belt before finally making contact with the Hydraean knife. Without a second thought, she ripped it from its fastenings, and sunk the blade into Gifre’s side.

Gifre jumped to his feet as she pulled the blade out. For the second time that day, air rushed into Felicity’s lungs, and she scrambled to her feet. Her body felt like it was on fire from adrenaline. Gifre examined his hemorrhaging wound, then looked up at her with contempt. “Ye bitch,” he slurred. His face was already beginning to lose color, but he grabbed at her once again. Felicity dodged around his outstretched hand and plunged the knife into his chest.

“I don’t need gods to save me anymore,” she said, then pushed the captain and the knife over the platform and into the water below.

I’m free.

The moment of serenity quickly gave way to a tidal wave of thoughts and emotions from everything that had happened to Felicity that day. She felt heartbroken, forsaken, liberated, and terrified all at the same time. Her head felt lighter than air, but her chest was thick and heavy.

Felicity Surrigo fell to her knees, buried her head in her hands, and wept.

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ffxv #ff15 #fanfiction #ffxv fanfiction #final fantasy xv fanfiction #gladiolus x oc #gladio x oc #weskham armaugh #original character #oc #lunafreya nox fleuret

2 notes · View notes

empyreanturtle · 7 years

Text

Somewhere on a Beach

A/N: For a time, I was listening to the song “Somewhere on a Beach” by Dierks Bentley multiple times a day as I drove to or from work. On one of those trips, I started imagining what a story would look like with the characters in the song. Two days and 1600 words later, I ended up with this songfic!

Special thanks to my husband and @captain-zajjy for beta-reading!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425335

The wheels touched down on the runway and Austin let out the breath he had been holding. He didn’t mind flying, but the knowledge of approaching the ground at a couple hundred miles per hour made him wish he’d had another bottle or two of the airline rum.

“Ladie -- tlmen, welc -- ternational Airport,” the pilot’s voice cut in and out over the loudspeaker. Around him, the other passengers shifted to pull out their phones and wrap up their earbuds. With a sigh, Austin reached into his pocket for his own phone and hit the power button.

Eight missed calls. Three voicemails. And two emails. Before he could even open the first message, the screen of Austin’s phone lit up with a delayed text message, “Hey where are you man?” Then another, “You ok?” The texts from his friends - his boys, as his ex always called them - continued to come in. Austin sighed again and turned off the screen. I need a drink first.

He waited in his seat until most of the passengers cleared off the plane before standing up for his carry-on. It contained mostly electronics - a laptop, his ipod, and the handful of charging cords from his nightstand. Everything else was in the largest suitcase he could find. Without knowing when exactly he would be returning home, he threw in all the clean clothes he had.

Austin slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. But before he was even off of the jetbridge, his phone buzzed with a call. Mom, the display read.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Honey, where are you?” Her voice sounded shrill with concern.

“I went on vacation, Ma.”

“Lacey came by looking for you,” she said. Austin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Lacey made it pretty clear yesterday that she was choosing her new corporate job in the city over him. This time, he wasn’t going to be around for her charade to win him back.

“Just tell her I’m not home,” he replied bitterly. I ain’t even close. “Look, Ma, I gotta run. I’ll call you in a few days, alright?”

“Alright, honey, take care of yourself.”

“I will. Love you, Ma.” Austin stopped at the edge of the terminal and slid his phone back into his pocket. Ahead of him, the signs were all in Spanish. Tourists, families, and locals rushed around him mumbling their annoyance at his inconvenient stop.

But past the drab carpet and rows of worn out bench seats, through the window where a pair of children gleefully pressed their hands against the glass, and across the flat stretch of concrete and runway, there it was: the beach.

An hour or so later, he set his phone down on the hotel bar. The barkeep handed him a menu, and Austin pointed to the first word he recognized: tequila. He held up two fingers, then pointed at the drink again. The barkeep gave him a knowing smile and turned away to make the drinks.

His phone buzzed annoyingly on the wooden bar. The screen lit up and Lacey Louise scrolled across the display.

Aw, hell no. He quickly ended the call with a swipe and held down the power button of his phone.

The barkeep returned with two drinks, and Austin dished out a couple of bills to cover the cost. The liquid in both both glasses was bright pink fading to creamy yellow, with an umbrella of fruit bites across the top.

Austin picked the first one up and took a sip. His tongue lit up with the bitterness of the alcohol. Much better. Grabbing one drink in each hand, he walked out to a boardwalk and sat himself down in a wooden lounge chair. For the first time in what felt like months, a smile came across his face as he looked out over the sand and waves.

The next few days were relaxing and blissful. Austin started each morning on the hotel boardwalk, strolled the beach in the afternoons, and ended each night in a club or at a waterfront party. He took a few naps here and there when the alcohol caught up to him, but he hadn’t really slept since he arrived. The sun during the day and the bustling nightlife kept him so energized, he didn’t even need it.

The barkeep gave Austin a friendly wave when he walked up for his afternoon order. While he waited for the drink, a young woman approached the bar a few stools away. She had wavy blonde hair hanging loose around her face and shoulders, and she wore a loose-fitting sundress that stopped short enough to emphasize the length of her legs.

Austin tried to gulp back the suggestive thoughts his earlier drinks allowed his brain to conjure. As his eyes drifted back up the woman’s body (And what a body it is, he thought), he noticed a used airline ticket sticking out of the edge of her purse and a pale line of skin at the base of her ring finger.

“First time here, too?” His question pulled the attention of the woman’s bright blue eyes.

She nodded with a defiant smile. “Yeah. Always wanted to visit, just never got the chance.”

The barkeep set down Austin’s drink in front of him. “Gracias, Jorge. Uno mas,” Austin said with a small jerk of his head in the woman’s direction. He set out a few bills on the bar top and swiveled his chair to face her. “Controlling ex-boyfriend wouldn’t let you?” he asked hopefully.

The woman laughed cynically, “Ex-husband was always too busy at the office. With his secretary.” She looked at Austin for a minute, then turned to him fully with her hand out. “I’m Nicole.”

“Austin,” he replied as they shook hands.

Late that night, Austin and Nicole sat around a bonfire with eight or so other vacationers sharing stories of what it was that made them take the trip. Some people were fired from their jobs, others quit, and even more were running from one failed relationship or another, but all of them came to find solace in the care-free, dulled-senses, relaxed and happy atmosphere of the beach.

The group had turned to toasting shots of tequila and rum, celebrating the freedoms they had here away from the rest of the world. “To never having a wake up call,” one man said, and the rest of them cheered and tipped back their drinks.

“To not living for a mindless nine to five city job,” another said after they had poured their refills.

“To never having to commute into any damn city,” Austin said before downing his shot glass. Across the circle from him, Nicole let out an enthusiastic cheer.

“To never putting a job before someone you love,” Nicole said when it came around to her turn. Austin nodded and let out a holler in agreement. She gets it, he thought. Like Lacey never did.

“To the sand and the waves and the salty breeze!”

The group continued their toasts until finally they were on their last round. With extra full glasses to finish off the bottle, one of the men toasted with a sly smirk, “To the beautiful people on the beach, and the special time we share with them.”

Nicole waited with the rim of her shot glass by her lips until she caught Austin’s gaze. She winked at him with a playful smile and a look in her eyes that made his imagination run wild with indecent thoughts. She tipped back the drink, then motioned with her head in a silent request. Want to get out of here?

They could hardly keep their hands off each other as they made their way back to the hotel. The door to Austin’s room was barely closed before Nicole was on him, pushing him against the wall, kissing his collarbone and running her hands all over his chest.

She nibbled into the base of his neck, and that was the last straw. With a moan of pleasure, he lifted her in a hug and carried her towards the bed. Nicole wrapped her legs around him, and they fell onto the blankets and pillows as one entity.

The next four days went by in a blur of drinks, parties, swimming, and laying in the sun that made Austin nearly forget the reason he came to the beach in the first place. But the thing that made him grin the most were the private moments stolen away with Nicole.

Austin laid out two beach towels on the sand and sat down on one, carefully, as to not spill his drink. The sun was high in the sky, and he had to tilt his head back to keep it from shining around the edges of his sunglasses. Next to him, his phone chirped with his text message notification.

Lacey Louise, the sender line read. For the first time in a week, Austin frowned. He thought about just deleting it, forgetting it ever came in. But after three days of silence from her, his curiosity got the better of him.

“I’m moving today,” it said. “Want to say goodbye. Where are you?”

“Why the frown?” Nicole laid down on the towel next to him in her bikini. She tossed a bottle of sunscreen in his direction. “Do we need to go back to the room to get you smiling again?” She had that look in her eyes again, the one that made his swim shorts feel a bit tight.

“Not yet,” he said with a grin. I’m gettin’ over you right now, Lacey, he decided. Before giving Nicole his full attention again, he quickly typed his response back to Lacey, a message containing only four words: Somewhere on a beach.

#somewhere on a beach #dierks bentley #dierks #black #songfic #writing

1 note · View note