Prelude - Long March Home

[comesunset]

His Royal Highness, Ardyn Lucis Caelum, took the chance to step onto the streets of Lestallum without the constant company of his retainers. Verstael had gone wandering off in search of information on the next tomb - a researcher to the bone, even at twenty, a year Ardyn's junior - and Gilgamesh had gone to meet with the Crownsguard. There were few threats in the city, the largest outside Insomnia itself, and after shedding his royal blacks in favor of a more relaxed ensemble, Ardyn practically vanished into the crowd, notable only for his red hair, his height, and the scarf draped loosely around his neck.

Three Arms down, ten to go. And the Lucian countryside hid them well - they'd found a fourth tomb, but with its relic missing, and information from the hunters pointed to a ruin that Ardyn's Shield had turned their trio away from. Ardyn, for once, hadn't argued, feeling the potency of the daemons within in practically the air itself.

For now, he takes his break wandering the streets, picking up a set of skewers from one vendor, a pastry from another, a locally mixed lemonade from a third, and making his way down to the overlook. They've only been in Lestallum a week, and he's already growing fond of the benches there, the view out over the meteor crater. The sunset provides the perfect backdrop as he recalls his meal from its brief time in his Armiger, careful to keep the royal magic out of the sight of any passerby before settling in to people-watch. It's not like he's totally reckless, Gil.

Times like this, with the crowd of the power plant's shift change bustling around him, are the times he most feels like he can relax. Rather than being the Prince, just another face in the crowd... With a smile, Ardyn sips his lemonade before taking another bite of the skewer held idly in his left hand. So refreshing.

Comments

[discutio]

[It was difficult to track a specific person by daylight; not impossible, not when that particular person radiated a constant faint buzz of magical energy, but difficult. As the sun went down things became a bit clearer, in the sight that shifted imperceptibly beneath the shadows of buildings--ah, there he'd gone.]

[Unguarded? That was horribly careless of them. Honestly, it was beginning to feel like babysitting rather than the guidance of what was ordained by fate and desired by his own king. (He'd likely still be near the shore right now. Fishing, as usual. Well, when one had an abundance of time...)]

[Ignis frowned, folding his arms as he stood in the shadows a distance away. Might as well linger and be sure no one got ideas of assassination in their heads.]

[comesunset]

[That, all in all, could have gone a bit better. The violence of the Niflheim military was one thing, but the might of a god was something else again. Even with the new addition to his armory - and Ardyn knows this one, has seen it in the hands of how many statues over the years? - it's all he can do to just survive the onslaught of the Archaean.

Let Gilgamesh be suspicious of their rescuer. Even given the man's position, Ardyn can only offer the Chancellor his thanks and retreat somewhere deeper into the dropship to close his eyes and rest for however long the flight might take. Could bear him straight to Niflheim for all he cares at the moment.

It doesn't. It drops them at the chocobo post instead, with some vague word about their car, and Ardyn only manages to be polite about the whole thing on autopilot before making his way into the camper set up at the edge of the parking lot. He barely even manages a 'goodnight' to his retainers before passing out.

And meanwhile, that very dropship descends to an out of the way spot outside the settlement, to allow the king of the dark a moment to talk with his Hand before carrying on, back to the best fishing spots at the Vesperpool once more. It's an exchange best summarized in a handful of words -

'He really almost fucked it, Ignis. Don't let those idiots get anywhere near Leviathan.'

And so, come sometime in the afternoon, which is honestly the earliest possible hour that anyone can expect royal eyes to open. Ardyn stretches as he makes his way out of the camper, ever alert to the second-highest royal priority, after sleep - breakfast.

He's washed his face off, at least, but the rest... Well. He's had better weeks.]