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do you even catch fireflies, bro?
Their arrival into Vesperpool had already been kind of shit-shaped, on account of it already being kind of dim by the time they emerged out of the tunnel, and it'd only gotten worse when they'd had to waste time when Noctis had to toss an EDM-spewing greatsword through a Nif mech's head, and then the sky had given them a cheery on top with a sudden downpouring of rain that refused to stop, and then there was that stop over and all of that to say the swamp had been even swampier when they'd gotten out of the Regalia in order to find some really nice metal tucked away in.... swamp.
So, like, honestly? The last thing any of them need is to see Ardyn Izunia smarmily standing there, knee deep in swamp water, right where they need to go.
They'd had to fight a Gigantoad, because of course they'd had to fight a Gigantoad, Noctis thinks there'd been probably fifty from here to the car. Why hadn't the Gigantoad tried to belly flop onto Ardyn for once instead of Noct? He thinks there's swamp in his boots, and he's wearing his good fishing gear just to get through the rain. Ardyn looks both wetter and, somehow because of it, even smugger.
Noctis mentally debates turning around and going fishing again. He's not entirely sure Ignis would stop him this time.
"Gentlemen. What a pleasant surprise," Ardyn drawls, his mouth doing that, like, thing it does besides talking.
Just past his shoulder, Prompto makes a sound that's like a death rattle and a groan. "Told you he'd be waiting!" he says, not even trying to be quiet about it, which is how you know he's fed up. It's how Noct knows, anyway, because he's seen Prom hesitate if a cashier looked slightly too annoyed.
It's not like Ardyn cares. "With my Imperial friends, no less!" he says, way too cheerful for this level of rain.
"Splendid," Ignis says in a flat tone that's, like, at least more appropriate for both setting, and situation.
Ardyn continues, clearly very used to the commentary that's probably so common you'd think he'd learn better. "But fear not." Noctis wishes he'd learn better. "I'll put in a good word. Well. Come along, then." And with all the ill-earned confidence of some Nif chancellor, he turns away with his coat dragging in the swamp water and walks like he expects them to follow.
Unfortunately, they do have to follow.
"Don't stray too far, lest you'd like to get left behind," Ardyn says airily over his shoulder, right as Noctis has to yank Prompto out from the mud without losing a shoe. He doesn't know how Ignis is keeping up with, what, is that seriously zero issues? Ignis or Ardyn, for that matter, who seems like he should be way more encumbered than he is. "And surely you'd rather avoid unnecessary scuffles, seeing as you're now a trio."
Noctis grits his teeth, holds back a retort. Beneath his grip where he's still holding on, he can feel the muscles in Prompto's forearm shift, tense, wanting to hold onto something. He doesn't even need to glance to the side to know that it's a pure miracle the rain around Ignis hasn't turned to bitterly biting hail.
"Oh, dear. Touchy subject?" Ardyn asks, fully aware of the bullshit he's pulling, because he always does.
He's glad it's Ignis who answers, ice in his voice that he can't manifest in the rain. "One we won't discuss with you."
Not that any of them could really say anything about it anyway, honestly. Back when Noctis had looked Gladio in the eyes, underneath the warm sun of Caem, he had tried to live up to the expectation in his face. He'd tried to behave, well. Better. Better than when Titan's fists had been digging through the earth all around them, when Gladio had grabbed him by the shoulders and put an end to his bitching.
He hadn't delegated to Ignis. He hadn't let him go without care. He'd just asked "How long?", and then trust that his Shield would come back to him, slot right by his side where he belonged.
Ardyn doesn't deserve to hear about the struggle of responsibility, or the hope inherent in trust.
What he does do, because no one has stopped him yet, is keep rattling on and on (seriously, do even other Nifs put up with this?). "Then let's discuss why you're here. Hmmmm." Seriously, does this guy have to be so dramatic. He knows. They know he knows. This is so stupid. "It can't be archaeology."
And that is around the time that a super damn tired part of Noctis's brain says fuck it, and kicks the lever operating his mouth.
"Biology, actually," he says, dry as absolute hell.
Ardyn actually stumbles a bit, there. Or, rather, his pace hits a hitch, like something's finally caught that stupid long coat of his in the water. "Biology," he echoes, tone like a car crash where amused incredulity is trying to blame blatant confusion for its scuffed bumper.
Right next to him, Prom is mouthing what the fuck. Noctis kinda ignores him. He's already said it, so, well... There's really only one thing he can do now, isn't there? And that is leaning as hard into it as he possibly can. "Entomology, actually," he says, like he knows better than Ardyn. And maybe he doesn't, not when it concerns politics, or they wouldn't be in this situation. But bullshitting? On that, it's a way more even playing field. "I... don't expect the guys preoccupied with making faulty alarm clocks to really look up out their window or anything, but the Myrlwood Firefly is pretty ecologically important, as it turns out."
Ardyn is now fully not looking in front of him. He's also not really stopped smiling either, unfortunately, that might just be the way his face is stuck from some unfortunate incident from someone smacking him upside the head really hard for all his smarm. Noctis counts himself lucky enough that it's still the most absolutely befuddled expression he's seen on Ardyn's stupid face.
He's lucky for other reasons, too. He's lucky that he's had Ignis all his life, and Ignis probably only needed his very first word to be fully prepared to go Yes, and...
"Photinus merula," Ignis recites with his very fancy and nice posh accent, and, wait, is that the actual name? Noctis has no idea, but he does know that Ignis never does anything without going full throttle. He's spent multiple years trying to perfect a pastry Noctis only hass vague memories about. Yeah, ok, that's definitely the real scientific name if Ignis says it. "A species of beetle unique to the Myrlwood, found nowhere else."
Prompto still looks like he has absolutely no idea where he is, what's going on, or what the plan is. Honestly, that's not always super rare? So, like, Noctis doesn't mind it. He's just enjoying the look on Ardyn's face.
Still, he did start it, and it wouldn't be fair to leave Ignis to do all the work. "Important lil' guys, as it turns out," Noctis continues. "Feed right off the rot of mandrakes and treants, but carry their pollen on their bodies to all the other flowers in the place. There's more to it, but, I'm gonna take a guess that neither you or of your Imperial friends thought to do a little research here."
Arydn is finally recovering from the bullshit Noctis is pulling on him, and he just gives that stupid smirk right back at him. "Truly an oversight on our part," he drawls. (Seriously, what is his mouth doing.) "But you would have any believe that our dear Crown Prince was off doing such dirty work?"
Rich coming from a guy making them trudge through a swamp. But hey. Joke's on him.
The nifty little container Professor Yeagre gave him is nice, simple, and, most importantly of all, perfectly clear as it emerges with a shine from within the Armiger. Yet not all of that shine fades away. With how dim it is from the rain, the tree cover, the night...
The trio of lights glow a brilliant blue from inside, and reflect in Noctis's own eyes as he smirks.
"Pretty clean job, actually."
Professor Yeagre is, you know. Obviously she's delighted when he comes back with perfectly healthy and happy fireflies in the little container. Or, like, Noctis guesses they're happy? Actually, nevermind, that's dumb, he doesn't think fireflies even have the brainpower necessary to process being happy.
What's a little less dumb, although he'd never really admit it out loud, is when the Professor looks at him and praises him for having such gentle hands.
"Uh, thanks," he says, and steps backwards, hard, on Prom's foot before he can say anything like he knows he's going to. Gladio will also definitely say something later, when they're out of ear shot of a woman, but that can be a future Noctis problem. The Noctis in the here and now just asks, "Actually, I was just wondering, can I listen about more of your research? It's actually pretty interesting." It's not a lie. He thinks if any of his teachers from before graduation had half of Yeagre's own passion, maybe he'd have cared more about learning.
But also, well...
You never know. Maybe good ol' photinus merula will come in handy again for shutting up smug weirdos.
Probably not.
But maybe.
So, like, honestly? The last thing any of them need is to see Ardyn Izunia smarmily standing there, knee deep in swamp water, right where they need to go.
They'd had to fight a Gigantoad, because of course they'd had to fight a Gigantoad, Noctis thinks there'd been probably fifty from here to the car. Why hadn't the Gigantoad tried to belly flop onto Ardyn for once instead of Noct? He thinks there's swamp in his boots, and he's wearing his good fishing gear just to get through the rain. Ardyn looks both wetter and, somehow because of it, even smugger.
Noctis mentally debates turning around and going fishing again. He's not entirely sure Ignis would stop him this time.
"Gentlemen. What a pleasant surprise," Ardyn drawls, his mouth doing that, like, thing it does besides talking.
Just past his shoulder, Prompto makes a sound that's like a death rattle and a groan. "Told you he'd be waiting!" he says, not even trying to be quiet about it, which is how you know he's fed up. It's how Noct knows, anyway, because he's seen Prom hesitate if a cashier looked slightly too annoyed.
It's not like Ardyn cares. "With my Imperial friends, no less!" he says, way too cheerful for this level of rain.
"Splendid," Ignis says in a flat tone that's, like, at least more appropriate for both setting, and situation.
Ardyn continues, clearly very used to the commentary that's probably so common you'd think he'd learn better. "But fear not." Noctis wishes he'd learn better. "I'll put in a good word. Well. Come along, then." And with all the ill-earned confidence of some Nif chancellor, he turns away with his coat dragging in the swamp water and walks like he expects them to follow.
Unfortunately, they do have to follow.
"Don't stray too far, lest you'd like to get left behind," Ardyn says airily over his shoulder, right as Noctis has to yank Prompto out from the mud without losing a shoe. He doesn't know how Ignis is keeping up with, what, is that seriously zero issues? Ignis or Ardyn, for that matter, who seems like he should be way more encumbered than he is. "And surely you'd rather avoid unnecessary scuffles, seeing as you're now a trio."
Noctis grits his teeth, holds back a retort. Beneath his grip where he's still holding on, he can feel the muscles in Prompto's forearm shift, tense, wanting to hold onto something. He doesn't even need to glance to the side to know that it's a pure miracle the rain around Ignis hasn't turned to bitterly biting hail.
"Oh, dear. Touchy subject?" Ardyn asks, fully aware of the bullshit he's pulling, because he always does.
He's glad it's Ignis who answers, ice in his voice that he can't manifest in the rain. "One we won't discuss with you."
Not that any of them could really say anything about it anyway, honestly. Back when Noctis had looked Gladio in the eyes, underneath the warm sun of Caem, he had tried to live up to the expectation in his face. He'd tried to behave, well. Better. Better than when Titan's fists had been digging through the earth all around them, when Gladio had grabbed him by the shoulders and put an end to his bitching.
He hadn't delegated to Ignis. He hadn't let him go without care. He'd just asked "How long?", and then trust that his Shield would come back to him, slot right by his side where he belonged.
Ardyn doesn't deserve to hear about the struggle of responsibility, or the hope inherent in trust.
What he does do, because no one has stopped him yet, is keep rattling on and on (seriously, do even other Nifs put up with this?). "Then let's discuss why you're here. Hmmmm." Seriously, does this guy have to be so dramatic. He knows. They know he knows. This is so stupid. "It can't be archaeology."
And that is around the time that a super damn tired part of Noctis's brain says fuck it, and kicks the lever operating his mouth.
"Biology, actually," he says, dry as absolute hell.
Ardyn actually stumbles a bit, there. Or, rather, his pace hits a hitch, like something's finally caught that stupid long coat of his in the water. "Biology," he echoes, tone like a car crash where amused incredulity is trying to blame blatant confusion for its scuffed bumper.
Right next to him, Prom is mouthing what the fuck. Noctis kinda ignores him. He's already said it, so, well... There's really only one thing he can do now, isn't there? And that is leaning as hard into it as he possibly can. "Entomology, actually," he says, like he knows better than Ardyn. And maybe he doesn't, not when it concerns politics, or they wouldn't be in this situation. But bullshitting? On that, it's a way more even playing field. "I... don't expect the guys preoccupied with making faulty alarm clocks to really look up out their window or anything, but the Myrlwood Firefly is pretty ecologically important, as it turns out."
Ardyn is now fully not looking in front of him. He's also not really stopped smiling either, unfortunately, that might just be the way his face is stuck from some unfortunate incident from someone smacking him upside the head really hard for all his smarm. Noctis counts himself lucky enough that it's still the most absolutely befuddled expression he's seen on Ardyn's stupid face.
He's lucky for other reasons, too. He's lucky that he's had Ignis all his life, and Ignis probably only needed his very first word to be fully prepared to go Yes, and...
"Photinus merula," Ignis recites with his very fancy and nice posh accent, and, wait, is that the actual name? Noctis has no idea, but he does know that Ignis never does anything without going full throttle. He's spent multiple years trying to perfect a pastry Noctis only hass vague memories about. Yeah, ok, that's definitely the real scientific name if Ignis says it. "A species of beetle unique to the Myrlwood, found nowhere else."
Prompto still looks like he has absolutely no idea where he is, what's going on, or what the plan is. Honestly, that's not always super rare? So, like, Noctis doesn't mind it. He's just enjoying the look on Ardyn's face.
Still, he did start it, and it wouldn't be fair to leave Ignis to do all the work. "Important lil' guys, as it turns out," Noctis continues. "Feed right off the rot of mandrakes and treants, but carry their pollen on their bodies to all the other flowers in the place. There's more to it, but, I'm gonna take a guess that neither you or of your Imperial friends thought to do a little research here."
Arydn is finally recovering from the bullshit Noctis is pulling on him, and he just gives that stupid smirk right back at him. "Truly an oversight on our part," he drawls. (Seriously, what is his mouth doing.) "But you would have any believe that our dear Crown Prince was off doing such dirty work?"
Rich coming from a guy making them trudge through a swamp. But hey. Joke's on him.
The nifty little container Professor Yeagre gave him is nice, simple, and, most importantly of all, perfectly clear as it emerges with a shine from within the Armiger. Yet not all of that shine fades away. With how dim it is from the rain, the tree cover, the night...
The trio of lights glow a brilliant blue from inside, and reflect in Noctis's own eyes as he smirks.
"Pretty clean job, actually."
Professor Yeagre is, you know. Obviously she's delighted when he comes back with perfectly healthy and happy fireflies in the little container. Or, like, Noctis guesses they're happy? Actually, nevermind, that's dumb, he doesn't think fireflies even have the brainpower necessary to process being happy.
What's a little less dumb, although he'd never really admit it out loud, is when the Professor looks at him and praises him for having such gentle hands.
"Uh, thanks," he says, and steps backwards, hard, on Prom's foot before he can say anything like he knows he's going to. Gladio will also definitely say something later, when they're out of ear shot of a woman, but that can be a future Noctis problem. The Noctis in the here and now just asks, "Actually, I was just wondering, can I listen about more of your research? It's actually pretty interesting." It's not a lie. He thinks if any of his teachers from before graduation had half of Yeagre's own passion, maybe he'd have cared more about learning.
But also, well...
You never know. Maybe good ol' photinus merula will come in handy again for shutting up smug weirdos.
Probably not.
But maybe.