Hello and Welcome, both old and new Glaives, Glaive Admirers and Lurkers!
Thank you for the wonderful and amazing Glaiveweek2019! Here we are again with this year’s Glaiveweek2020! Below you will find the prompts and themes! Remember you can use both themes and prompt in your work or just the theme or just the prompts. Be free to create!
The Glaives deserve some recognization and love! So I hope we will be able to come together and make that happen!
When: It starts on Monday, May 11 and ends Sunday, May 17 at MIDNIGHT in your timezone. The week starts when your calendars turn from May 11 to 17 anywhere in the world.
How to Participate: Use the prompts/themes below to make your Glaive creations and post them on the correct day and tag them with #glaiveweek (within the first five tags) and@glaiveweek in/on the work.
Day 1 - General Theme: Sunrise
Specific Prompts: Rebuilding // Time of Mourning // Time of Healing
Day 2 - General Theme: Fun and Games
Specific Prompts: Prank Wars // Tickle Fight // Hide & Seek Warp
Day 3 - General Theme: Alternate Universe (AU)
Specific Prompts: FFVII Xover // Fix-It Canon Divergence // Role-Swap AU
Day 4 - General Theme: Moments of Life
Specific Prompts: Sleep Deprivation // Reflection // Dancing Like No Tomorrow
Day 5 - General Theme: Angst or Fluff... or even Smut!
Specific Prompts: Hold On // Time of Your Life // It’s Warm and Peaceful
Day 6 - General Theme: The World has Stopped yet it Keeps Turning
Specific Prompts: Yesterday // Today // Tomorrow
Day 7 - General Theme: Creator’s Choice
Specific Prompts: Free Choice
You are welcome to interpret the themes and prompts whichever way you wish as long as it follows the Rules. Remember, you can post other creations outside of the given themes too. Just don’t forget to tag them with #glaiveweek!
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If you have questions head over to the FAQ.
Also on check the News/Status box for any updates and changes to Glaiveweek. If you have any questions regarding the prompts and themes, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll get to it as soon as I can! Cheers and have fun! ;D
Sorry I’m late with this one! It is pure shenanigans. @glaiveweek
Prompt: Free Choice
Summary: Pelna gets darted while on a scouting mission. Leaving a drugged glaive alone in the largest hospital in Insomnia is not a good idea. Nyx, Crowe, and Luche have to catch him before he gets into more trouble.
Warnings: Non con drugging.
Axis hardly dared to breathe- they couldn’t lose stealth, they were so close to freedom...his eyes went wide at the sight of Pelna’s posture. The hooded form leaned back casually, stretching out on the rocks. Axis signaled for him to get his shit together, only to be waved off like a bothersome kid. Axis had enough, dragging Pelna forward along the rocky shelf, they were so fucking close...two more clicks bounced off the rocks, far too close for Axis to enjoy any aspect of the situation. Pelna was a good soldier, why the fuck was he tripping over himself, fighting the mission? They scouted the enemy position, and now had to get the fuck back to safety. His movements got clumsier, and his speech started to slur. Axis worried harder, dragging the stumbling man forward. Almost in warping distance.
The sniper mechanically reloaded. If the targets managed to be subdued before they got back to camp, the better. If not, well. It was a waiting game. More scouts would provide more opportunities. The sniper took his shot.
Axis hissed, feeling a scritch of pain as a dart sliced past his bicep, not sinking in deep enough to be painless. He warped, dragging Pelna into nothingness, making the trek back to safety in several leaps. Provided, they were shitty leaps, and the pair ended up in a messy clump at the edge of their squad’s watch. Pelna moaned, struggling to right himself. Axis tried to get up, and a wave of dizziness clouded his senses, forcing the soldier back down.
The others swarmed over them, checking for injuries. No obvious wounds, but Axis was losing his balance far too much, and Pelna splayed out in the dirt, not caring about any sense of decorum.
“Darts. Wanted prisoners.” Axis bit out, unbuttoning his coat, searching for the thin wound that burned like a paper cut. Pelna giggled drunkenly as Luche propped him into a sitting position, limbs floppy.
“Right. We need to get you to the med van further back. Can you walk?” Luche murmured, checking Pelna’s pulse, making the dark-haired glaive giggle when fingers brushed his throat.
“But you're so comfy, Luche? Moving is hard.” Pelna sighed, leaning back into the stiffening glaive. Luche snorted, hauling the lanky shit to his feet, wrapping an arm around him for stability. Pelna leaned into it, trying to find his footing. He struggled, muscles loose and unresponsive. Pelna whimpered, and stumbled to the ground, squeaking as the dart embedded in his coat poked his ass. He flopped over, squeaking, and Luche plucked the offending cartridge out of his friend.
“Hmph, we got the casing, need to analyze this. Such a small thing. And it just scratched you, Axis?” Axis nodded, and Luche looked troubled. Axis’s muscles still obeyed him, but the balance just wasn’t there. Sighing, Luche called the squad to gather and retreat. He didn’t want to stick around if the empire wanted them alive.
Libertus helped Axis along, and arm around his waist. It would take a bit to get back to the fleet vehicles at this pace, but Axis couldn’t go any faster. Luche and Tredd had Pelna between them, the poor thing trying hard, but was growing weaker by the minute. It did not affect his mood through- whatever was in the dart was more than just an anesthetic. Pelna was in a world of his own at this point, eyes tracking things nobody else could see, talking to voices they couldn't hear. He answered questions if you asked directly, but seemed to be quite out of it. The hallucinations did not seem to bother him either, he smiled and chatted happily, relaxing into his friends.
Tredd thought the whole thing hilarious, even nodding along seriously to the strange conversation Pelna was having with nothing, something to do with which versions of hide and seek were best for training purposes. Luche looked down, hiding his smile at the silliness. Aside from one game that won’t be mentioned, the glaive kept to more standard training methods during work hours. After hours were a secret not to mentioned.
Back at the mass of fleet vehicles, Tredd jogged off to get a stretcher and some help while Luche held Pelna, who was rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious. Axis was still dizzy, but completely with it. Libertus kept urging him along, he could still walk. Pelna crumpled slowly to the ground as Luche lowered him as gently as he could. It was nearly twenty minutes since he had been darted, and was only starting to pass out now? Luche worried, this was not some simple knock out drug. Those worked in seconds. This thing had layers to it. It made him nervous- checking and rechecking Pelna’s breathing and heart rate. Dark eyes started up at him, hazy and fighting the weight of his lids.
“Stay with me, Pels. Fight it.”
“Why?” Pelna groaned, trying to snuggle into Luche’s side. Luche resisted, waiting for the medics.
“You were drugged, you have to stay with me until you get checked out.” Luche grumbled, shaking the younger glaive, who was trying to squirm his way into his lap.
“So? It didn’t hurt, and I’m safe...it's comfy…” Pelna sighed sleepily.
“Please, Pels? For me?” Different approach.
“Only if I get cuddles all the way home.” Eyes flickered back open, locking gazes.
“Might need to switch, but I bet I can get you cuddles.” Luche shook his head- everyone knew Khara was the biggest serial cuddler in the Glaive, but this was ridiculous. Whatever. As long as it kept him quiet and happy.
Pelna actually squeaked and vibrated happily. Luche sat there, eyebrows up, with a fully grown man snuggling into his side, laying his head on his shoulder. He ran a hand back down his slicked hair, ignoring the head rising on his neck.
Nyx and Crowe paused mid stride, helping the others load up. They had seen that Khara had gotten clumsy near the end- live feeds were a glorious thing- but they did not know the extent of his condition. They had ended the stream after the first warp to offer support with them so close. This was bad- he couldn't hold his head up, and was losing the fight to keep his eyes open.
Tredd brought medics and a stretcher. They gave him a quick physical- Insomnia General would be far more prepared to help, but any info they could radio ahead would help. Blood sample taken, heart rate a little slow- but normal for someone relaxed, oxygen good. The glaive could track a finger with his eyes, once Luche promised more snuggles. Dilation a little sluggish, but there. They deemed him high, and took the used vial for further testing. He would have to wait until they got back for further treatment.
“What about my snuggles?” Came a piteous whine from the stretcher. Luche rolled his eyes, and the medics laughed.
“As long as someone makes sure you keep breathing, it's fine by us.”
Loading the fleet was almost complete, and glaives slipped into the vans, finding spots to sleep on the trip back home. It was now that Pelna conked out, snoring softly on the stretcher. Nyx and Crowe sidled up, eyeing the limp Pelna and the tired Luche.
“Need some help?” Nyx asked, kneeling by the sleeping glaive.
“Definitely. Especially if you could do me a favor.” Luche groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Depends on the favor.” Nyx grinned, eyeing his second in command.
“I promised he could snuggle up with someone on the way home if he behaved.”
“That's actually really cute, from the both of you. But no.” Nyx snickered, ruffling Luche’s hair. Luche snarled, smoothing it back into place. Nyx’s stance softened as the glaive in question shifted, groaning. The Ulric gestured to the closest van, and he and Crowe loaded Pelna in the main aisle. Tredd raised an eyebrow from his perch at the front, but didn’t protest. Luche, Nyx, and Crowe slid in, positioning themselves comfortably for a long ride. Crowe gestured to the unconscious glaive, and Luche shook his head. Nyx snickered, looking away.
“A promise is a promise. Besides, a stretcher is a better spot to be on these rocks.” The mage stated, calmly settling in next to Pelna. The man twitched before rolling on his side, offering his back to Crowe. She smirked, wrapping an arm around him, eyes closing.
Over the next several hours, naps were had by all with Pelna in his stretcher. It was a better ride, and didn’t leave kinks in the neck like the hard bench seats. Every time a switch happened, Pelna would pout sleepily, until a new body was there to hold close, or be held by. Even Tredd gave in, settling down with a sigh, the dark haired man happily sliding into the redhead’s side. Pictures may or may not have been taken.
Back in Insomnia, Nyx and Luche carried the sleeping Pelna into the hospital, where he was again examined. Nothing was wrong with him, just working whatever drug that was through his system. For safety’s sake, he was admitted for the night for observation. That night was calm, he slept right through.
The morning was not so. And the drug revealed what it could really do. Pelna stretched, coming to in a bed he did not remember, with an IV attached to one wrist, and a heart monitor/ oxygen sensor slipped over a finger on his other hand. Hospital? The room was empty of others, but the glaive could hear voices down the hall, and various beeping of medical equipment. He had no gear, only in his pants and undershirt. Not even socks. Or boots. Well. This wouldn’t do.
His memories blurred as he struggled to remember how he got here. Axis and him were scouting in enemy territory, and something happened? Did something happen? There was a blank spot there that refused to help the situation. Pelna huffed, and struggled further. They made it back to the others, and Luche was there. Axis fell on his face. It was funny. Pelna smiled, then shook himself. They were sitting there...and Luche! Luche was warm and nice! Very important to note. Warm sounded good right now. The room spun lazily, not as bad as when Luche held him, but a bubbly film had taken up residence over Pelna’s mind. He felt floaty, and light. There was no fear, or anger, or discomfort, or embarrassment. Only a cheerful bubbly feeling- it was hard to define. But that didn’t matter. Hospitals were for sick people, Pelna felt great! Plus, what kind of doctor stole shoes?
The dark haired glaive giggled aloud at his musings, sitting up and unclipping the o2 sensor, causing the machine to beep. He cocked his head at the sound, and gently undid the tape on his IV, before pulling it slowly out. Blood welled briefly before he applied pressure and rose uncertainly. He did that when he got hurt before- removing and IV hurt, and that barely registered as a sensation at all. Pelna shrugged, maybe he was just that good. That was it.
The young man registered footsteps approaching as he searched the room for his boots. A nurse stepped in, seeming shocked at him standing upright and unhooked from the IV.
“Good morning, has anyone come to see you yet?” She glanced at him, he seemed fine, but there was something off about his eyes.
“Morning! Where did you put my stuff?” Pelna smiled sunnily.
“Your belongings are on the table over-” She started, but was cut off.
“Not a good hiding spot.” Pelna chuckled, standing on one leg at a time, getting socks and combat boots on and cinched. The nurse watched warily. His balance and reflexes were there, but something was wrong. This was a grown man- a glaive!- and he didn’t seem to care that he was drugged, dragged in by his comrades, and woke up like…Her earpiece chattered- Drautos was here for his glaive, with several squad members to visit a friend. She brushed a lock of blond hair back to the side of her face, appearing to look calm.
“I’ll be right back. Guests have come by to speak with you. Can you stay here for me?” Pelna nodded, happy smile still in place. She nodded, and turned briskly out.
“Send Reinforcements.”
Pelna uncrossed the fingers behind his back as she strode out. Not like he was going to obey a dirty shoe stealer. They didn’t even fit her! Pelna huffed. Sillies.
That's when it all went downhill. A thought floated across his mind. He could show them silly. He was the best stealth hunter the glaive had. They couldn't steal his boots if they couldn't catch him. Settling his coat over himself, he buttoned himself in, adjusting his gear, preparing for war. Pelna pulled his blades forth with a fizzle of magic, and silently opened the window. A courtyard below, one hundred feet down. Ledges appeared every twenty or so feet, under the windows of patient rooms. Too easy to see him, in an open courtyard. He would have to get creative. Pelna laughed to himself, voices getting closer, quickly. He leapt, and with a purple flash, he was gone.
Drautos was not amused. Neither were Luche, Nyx, and Crowe. Or the poor nurse. A glaive high on an unknown enemy substance? Loose in the biggest hospital in Insomnia? Security was called immediately to search the grounds, though the glaives knew they wouldn’t be much help. Not in catching this sneaky little shit. Back home he was the only one able to creep up on Galahdian wildlife. Without fail. They fanned out, hoping to catch him before he got out into the surrounding city, gods forbid.
With a few jumps, a quick roll, and a killer landing, Pelna gained access to the roof. Much better view. He could sneak off into the city proper, but where was the fun in that? He grinned, starting off towards a courtyard on the far side with bright colors and small balconies by the rooms. Perfect place to jump off for a chain warp, and slip into the building if he needed.
The glaives searched frantically, Drautos calling in reinforcements to watch the perimeter of the Hospital, and to be as nondescript as possible. Nyx warped the exterior, Luche on the roof- just popping up as Pelna dove, and Crowe checking courtyards on the ground. Their only hope was to get Nyx in close. Pelna would listen to him, no matter what state he was in, and Nyx was the fastest warper they had. It was their only hope of bagging him without making a scene.
Pelna landed softly on one of the balconies. Quickly scanning the building’s edge and courtyard, he noted no pursuers. But there were small amounts of movement in the room, and he couldn’t help peeking in. A small child, perhaps five, sat in a wheelchair, face puffy and bruised, legs in casts, drawing with a plush dragon tucked into his side. An elderly woman sat next to him, looking with wide eyes. Pelna gave his most regal bow, and the motion caught thy boy’s eye. He gasped, and pointed excitedly, tugging on the woman’s arm. She glared at Pelna suspiciously, until he dropped to his knees, and offered a friendly wave to the child. The kid tugged harder, wheeling himself forward until his casts bumped the glass of the balcony door. Pelna cocked his head, watching, as the kid showed a rather colorful scribble, and pointed to the dragon. Pelna grinned, applauding. The boy laughed delightedly, saying something- the glass was too thick to hear properly through- and the woman rose, waddling over. She opened the door slightly.
“What brings you here, kingsglaive?” She said, holding the excitable boy back.
“I am on a secret mission.” Pelna started, glancing at the dragon plush.
“Oh?” The woman started, following his gaze.
“There is a vicious dragon about. I was sent to hunt the beast down.” Pelna puffed his chest out, looking serious. The boy beamed, not noticing the elder grabbing the plush, cocking back to throw.
“A dragon you say? I know of only one such creature...” She stated, eyes dancing. With a flick of her wrist, the dragon flew at Pelna, who fell back with a shout. The glaive pantomimed a fierce battle with the dragon, adding little gouts of flame for effect. The boy shrieked with glee, yanking on the woman’s sleeve. She oohed and ahhed, cheering for Pelna’s victory, finally opening the door, allowing the boy to snatch his dragon back. Pelna huffed dramatically with relief- sinking back to his knees. The kid squealed in delight, glowing up at the woman.
“That dragon is too strong for me. If you can keep it under control- I will consider my mission complete.” Pelna said, rising to his feet. The boy nodded frantically, clutching the dragon close. With a salute to the woman, and a wink to the boy, Pelna stepped back off the balcony, disappearing below.
The search continued with security roving the corridors systematically, slowly ruling out hiding places. The glaives continued to rove the area, watching carefully. Any slip and Khara would be through.
Pelna was having the time of his life. He loved kids, and seeing their faces as he juggled fire and lightning? As he tossed a coin to the other side of a balcony and suddenly appeared there? Absolutely perfect. If they didn’t have the energy to stand or walk over he told stories from his homeland- ones that the Lucian children had not heard. They listened with rapt attention, parents smiling at their kids. It seemed they all needed a moment’s reprieve- parents with bags under their eyes, kids with o2 tubes and monitors strapped to them. Pelna would make them smile, and give them something good to remember from a time of fear and pain.
It continued until he came to alight on the balcony of a tiny stick of a girl. She played with a doll, sitting propped up on her bed, dollar store tiara on her brow. She was far too pale, dark bags under her eyes, and no hair under her crown. An exhausted mother watched listlessly from her spot on the couch. Pelna drew himself up to his full height, and bowed low. The girl pointed as energetically as she could, and the woman slid open the door slowly.
“What can we do for you, Sir?”
“It is my duty to see to all the princesses in the land. Is there a princess here?” The girl beamed, raising her hand. Pelna looked to the mother, who nodded minutely, and stepped to allow him in, perching next to her daughter on the bed. He grinned, and sunk to one knee with a flourish.
“Your majesty, it is my honor to be in your service. Is there anything you would ask of me?” The girl deliberated, and whispered into the woman’s ear. She thought for a second, frowning, and then nodded. With a shy, cracked voice, the girl asked for a dance with her knight, one worthy of the king’s ballroom.
“A waltz then, your majesty.” Pelna held out his hand, and she shakily stood, knees wobbling. The mother steadied her, setting her on the floor. She stared shyly down, until Pelna held her hands, and lifted, so she stood on his feet. The girl looked to her mom, glowing, asking for music. She pulled out her phone, and played a classic- Once Upon a Dream.
They twirled softly, Pelna dancing gracefully, being a perfect knight. The girl giggled, clutching at his hands, begging for more. The mother seemed to regain energy as her daughter appeared happier, playing more songs until her daughter tired. The girl swayed, still clutching his hands tight. Pelna gently lifted her, where she wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked to her mom, swaying lightly to an imaginary beat. She rose, gesturing to the bed. Pelna strode forward, laying her down softly, but she refused to release his neck. Clutching him tight, she whispered in his ear.
“I won’t forget you, brave knight. What is your name?”
“Pelna Khara, dear princess.”
“Will you forget me, Sir Khara?”
“Never. You are braver than all the knights in the land, princess. And stronger, too.” She seemed satisfied with his answer, and gave in to the sleep tugging at her exhausted limbs. He squeezed her hand as it slipped free of his neck, and he heard the click of a picture being taken.
Pelna glanced up, meeting the watery eyes of a mother going through hell and back for her daughter. The woman took a step forward, hugging him, thanking him for bringing some happiness.
“I haven’t seen her that happy in weeks. Thank you, Pelna Khara. So much.”
“With that grip? She's tougher than my entire squad. She will beat this. Hail, Queen.” Pelna hugged back, whispering. The woman sniffled, and released him with a final squeeze.
“Hail, Glaive.” Pelna bowed, and took a running leap off the balcony, landing in a crouch in the courtyard below.
Crowe jogged around a corner into the courtyard to see Pelna sink gracefully to the ground. She froze, thinking he saw her, and relaxed as he walked over to a row of swings, considering. He looked fine- his reflexes certainly were!- but his actions made no sense. Running from nurses? Warping around a hospital? They had to bet him looked at.
“I got eyes on. Pediatric Courtyard, by the swings. Should I engage?”
“Not yet, get Nyx and Luche above, then try to talk him out of it. I don’t want a scene- you got me?” Drautos growled, Nyx and Luche chirping in affirmative. Crowe waited until she saw sparks of magic above, at the edge of the walls. Luche and Nyx were in position. Unfortunately, their quarry saw as well. Pelna drew his blades to warp, now watching his surroundings carefully. Crowe thought frantically- what should she say? She had to move now, he was bracing to warp.
“Pelna! Thank the six you're here!” Crowe burst out, striding forward. He paused, cocking his head, before grinning and rushing forward to meet her. He sheathed his blades and caught her in a giant hug.
“Crowe! What are you doing here?” He grinned, squeezing.
“I was about to ask the same. How are you feeling?” She hugged back, not quite sure how to handle him.
“I’ve got a story for you about that, but I feel...good. Great, actually.” He smiled, putting his chin on top of her head, humming happily.
“I see. Any details?” Crowe was relieved, she could manage him like this. Just had to keep him here, and happy, until the others closed in. She rubbed his back, making him relax further.
“Its quite a story. I woke up alone, hooked up to tubes….” Pelna began. Crowe nodded along, watching the other glaives hop down balconies as quietly as they could.
“And they thought they could steal my boots! How rude is that? So I took off…” Nyx was just shy of warping range, another level and he would be there!
“So I met all these kids, and just a little bit of juggling fire made them and their folks smile- it was adorable! There was this one boy with a dragon…”
Nyx and Luche were in position. How were they going to do this? Pelna was no threat, but keeping him as calm as possible was key here.
“And I danced with a princess! She called me her knight, it was the most fun I’ve had in years…” Pelna spoke so wistfully Crowe couldn’t hold back a chuckle, squeezing his waist.
“They looked so sad. I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.” He sighed, hiding his face in her hair. Crowe allowed it- this was far more affectionate than normal for even him- was he really ok? His breathing felt normal, and he was responsive to touch...
“And then I ran into you! How lucky! Want to get some food before heading out?” Pelna finally released her, looking expectantly, actually batting his eyes at her. Crowe laughed, taking his hand. He grinned, holding hers tight. She had to make a call, how to get the others closer without alarming him. Nyx could get a handle on everything as long as Pelna did not bolt.
“I could go for food. Would you mind if some other glaives came along too?” She asked, batting her eyelashes right back. He grinned impossibly brighter.
“Sure. I haven’t sat down with the guys in forever! Totes craving a good shake, though. You?”
Crowe nodded absently, motioning with her free hand for Nyx and Luche to make their move. They warped down, much to Pelna’s surprise. Things moved quickly from there. Nyx gripped Pelna tight, making the younger man promise not to run from doctors, and to stay in his room. The glaive agreed, eerily cheery, with the condition that he wouldn't be left alone with the med staff, and they bring him take out. That was fair. Being alone when not in your right mind? Scary. Nyx agreed and split shifts with the other glaives present to chill with their drugged brother.
Drautos relaxed only when his glaives were back in Pelna’s hospital room, the glaive in question settling back into his bed with a bad of cheap take out, slurping on a shake. It was truly calm from then on out. Pelna was released two days later, only causing trouble when not being cuddled by another glaive. A story came out on the Hospital’s website on the stories of hope page- a cancer recovery in grim circumstances, with the picture of a little girl in a tiara dancing with a kingsglaive in full battle dress. The amazing PR that came out of the story erased any trouble Pelna would have gotten into. It became a not uncommon thing to see bored glaives warping around Hospital grounds, waving to those within. The good press gave Drautos an easier time in squeezing funds out of the council, easing stress on everyone in the glaive. It became an inside joke afterwards, for groups of glaives to meet for a stay-in night with food and movies when they got stressed, citing that “the world was stealing their boots.”
@glaiveweek day 4, Moments of Life / Sleep Deprivation / Reflection
Title: Lazarus
Rating: Gen
Characters: Luche Lazarus, Libertus Ostium
Additional tags: World of Ruins, POV Second Person, Memory Loss
Summary: Luche woke up in the world of constant darkness and had no recollection of how he got there - or who he was.
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You had no recollection of what had happened. The only thing you remembered was waking up, and everything was dark. You looked up to the sky and saw that it was both moonless and starless.
That's odd , you thought, all the while moving to sit up. The grass tickled at your elbows. It was only until your eyes adjusted to the darkness did you realize that you were in some sort of a field.
How the hell did you get here? You tried to dig deep into your memories to find the answer, but you came up with nothing.
Before you could think further, however, a low growl somewhere to your right caught your attention. You turned quickly and saw a pair of red eyes glowing in the dark, surrounded by hulking shadows. The shadows and the eyes moved, and your heart skipped a beat.
Prompt: Fun and Games- Prank Wars, Tickle Fights, Hide and Seek Warp Tag
Summary: A glitter bomb in Titus Drautos’s personal office starts a series of shenanigans never before seen in the Citadel. Eyebrows, laundry, and dignity are lost. For a moment, all hell breaks loose. Then the King walks in to check on his glaives. What he sees will never be forgotten.
Titus Drautos stretched, watching heavy raindrops spatter his window. Monday meant training with the glaives, supply forms, meeting with the king, and preparing his budget proposal for the council to approve... He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Getting the money needed to keep the glaive running was like pulling teeth out of those stingy bastards.
A boom startled the Captain into glancing down below. Lightning flashed as a bunch of newer glaives ran from the safety of the parking garage into their headquarters. The greenhorns whooped at the cold, splashing each other as they ran. The more experienced glaives warped the distance, laughing. Titus smiled, and gathered himself together. Time to address the troops.
Midmorning combat drills in the arena began with Titus circulating with critique. Nyx was quick, but needed endurance. Libertus had him panting after the first few rounds. Good team- balanced eachother out... Tredd lost his patience and was subsequently thrown by Luche into a wall. Crowe had to be repeatedly reminded that fire did not solve everything, and Pelna lost an eyebrow in her resulting demonstration that fire did indeed solve everything. The only senior members not giving Titus a headache were Axis and Sonitus- just smoothly sparring like everyone was supposed to be.
The Captain massaged his temples as a resounding boom, flash, and cut off screech filled the arena. Crowe had not only broken through Pelna’s shield, but also managed to dash him against the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious. She was at his side, checking him over apologetically. Nothing broken, aside from some pride, and a probable concussion.
“I’ll take him to the hospital. Crowe, no more magic in combat sparring! Tredd, if you don’t like the taste of dirt, change your approach! Luche, you are in charge while I’m gone. After drills, run through the warp course- focus on precision. And when we get back, meet in the briefing hall. Crownsguard wants to run security simulations in the castle- joint exercise might be good for us all.” Titus called out, after hefting the noodly Pelna in his arms.
Various murmurs of assent rose behind them as they left. Pelna came to a few minutes later, groggily settling into a seat in a crown fleet vehicle. The trip to and from the hospital was uneventful- Pelna would be fine if he took it easy, it was a mild concussion. The glaive was more embarrassed to have been carried off by his boss after passing out. The paperwork was minimal, and they were out of the hospital in no time. The glaive seemed more steady as time went on, but there was a slight wobble to his movements as they got back in the vehicle.
“I’m sorry for being a bother, thank you for the ride.” Pelna stated, eyes down as he buckled in.
“I take care of my glaives. Be thankful it is only a mild concussion” Titus stated fondly.
By lunch they were back, and Titus explained the proposed joint field exercises with the crownsguard. The glaives seemed open to the idea. The captain delegated requisition forms work to Pelna for the afternoon, and asked that Crowe check in on him every so often. With peace seemingly achieved, Titus left them to afternoon resistance training and cardio.
Crowe descended on Pelna the second the captain was out the door.
“I was out of line, I am so sorry- are you ok?”
“Mild concussion, just a bit tired. I’m ok, just don’t hit so hard, ok?”
“Yeah...I’ll check on you, no napping while concussed.” Crowe hugged him softly, smoothing his hair where it stuck up and running a finger where his left eyebrow no longer was. Pelna smiled softly, and hugged back.
“Take it easy, Khara. I’ll be up after the first rotation.” She smiled, lightly tickling him under his arms. He flinched, squeaking, and fled when her smile turned predatory. She chuckled at his swift retreat, and turned to the weight room, where the other glaives had started.
One rotation later, Crowe trotted up the stairs with a mug of tea to and down the hall to the offices, to find Pelna semi-asleep over a stack of forms and files. She smiled and slid the mug over the desk.
“Pels? Peeellls? Wake uppp…” A murmur in response.
“I brought tea, just the way you like ittt.” A grunt.
“Please? I know it's hard, and my fault, so here is my support. Wake up!” A grumbled five more minutes mom had Crowe tickling his neck. He squirmed and hiked his shoulders up, slapping lightly at her hands. She slipped a hand under his arm and dug into his pit. Pelna squealed and burst into giggles. Crowe grinned as his arms crashed down, trapping her hand there. She kept it up for just a squidge more and then stopped enough for her to get her hand back. “Awake now?” She grinned at his tired nod.
“Sorry. The lights kind of hurt my eyes, so I closed them for just a sec…” He rubbed the heels of his palms over his eyes, groaning.
“Drink the tea, and there are some energy bars left in the snack drawer. I suggest breaks. It helped me when Libertus knocked me into that rock formation a few months back...I still haven’t repaid him for that…”
“No more injuries today, Miss Altuis. Please?”
“Very well, Mister Khara. Drink, and eat. I promise no blood will be spilled by me today. But you gave me a lovely idea.” Pelna nodded tiredly and lightly sipped at the tea, letting the caffeinated warmth soak into his bones. Crowe skipped lightly back down the hall. Second rotation was about to begin, she had to hurry. Down the stairs she saw the door ajar and heard voices on the other side. Impatiently she yanked the door open and squawked as ice water drenched her, bucket settling over her head with a solid clunk. Laughter echoed throughout the weight room but stopped when they saw just who they had drenched.
Time stopped as she lifted the bucket, fire coursing through her veins. She scanned the room, looking for the guilty party. There. Libertus and Nyx, trying to look innocent for the amount of time it took for her to cross the room and lob the bucket at them.
“We weren’t trying to drench you! Tredd was being a dick, and ran to get something...We were supposed to get Tredd!” Libertus said as Tredd burst back in the room, pausing at the puddle in the doorway, and then at the sight of Crowe sopping wet, holding a giggling Nyx by the throat.
“So unprofessional. Such children. Much wow.” Tredd grinned and turned back to the machines, continuing his reps.
Crowe snarled, shaking Nyx, and released her grip on his shirt only to grab at his waist. Nyx yelped and curled in on himself laughing, just as she knew he would. She clawed into the meat under his floating ribs, earning a squeal, and followed as he sank to his knees. Crowe smirked- Nyx never could take side tickles, especially if you got your nails in there just right. Nyx squished himself forward into a tight ball, howling. She plopped down onto his back, searching for just the right angle. He thrashed weakly under her, and cried out to Libertus for help.
“C’mon, we still need him. Release.” Libertus grunted as he attempted to slip an arm around her, only to be bitten on said arm in response. Libertus jerked back hissing. Crowe found the spot she was looking for, and Nyx broke into what the internet would call ugly laughter. He screeched and pleaded for mercy between desperate guffaws.
All in the weight room were now watching the kerfuffle as Libertus struggled to pry Crowe off Nyx. Libertus was easily the strongest glaive save the captain, but she was fighting dirty- biting, kicking. Calls of encouragement to Crowe, snickers, and fond sighs echoed around the room, training forgotten. Nyx was screeching in tears when Libertus finally hauled Crowe up, only for her to twist in his grip and jab into his ribs. He cursed and folded inward for just a sec, long enough for Crowe to clamber on his back and begin blowing vicious raspberries on the back of his neck where the braids left him exposed.
“Release! Release!” Libertus roared, violently twisting to shake her off, getting desperate. Crowe never waivered, and continued as his strength waned.
“How long do you think he will last?” Tredd snickered to Luche from his perch on the rowing machine. Luche leaned against the wall, smiling as Libertus started to snort between his growls at Crowe.
“Dunno. He’s held on pretty good for a while now. Compared to some, anyway.” Luche gestured to Nyx, still panting in a ball on the floor mats.
Tredd nodded, chuckling as Libertus broke, still thrashing, into a giggling fit punctuated by snorts of random intensity. Luche stretched, glancing out the one window- the storm still raging, even stronger now, since the rain appeared to be going sideways. Tredd snorted at the scuffle, drawing Luche’s attention back to the present. Libertus tapped out and Crowe relented with a smirk, sliding off his back and landing with a laugh.
“Cardio in ten, then cooldown and then home.” Luche murmured. Tredd nodded absently, collecting his things, writing down their current weight and reps. The other glaives did the same, slowly collecting themselves and ambling toward the arena for laps and sprints.
Pelna groaned, stretching his shoulders. So much damn paperwork for such stupid things. Every little thing from weapons to office supplies to toilet paper had to be requisitioned, signed, and returned for financial approval. This fucking sucked. He rubbed his eyes, and glowered at the stack of forms, slightly smaller, but still there. The captain stomped in then, looking worse for wear.
“How was the meeting?” Pelna tried to appear chipper.
“Slow. The council wants to challenge every little bit of our budget, and the king had little to offer…” The captain said, the anger in his eyes cooling into exhaustion.
“We're in this together, we appreciate you taking care of us.” Pelna glanced up, re shuffling the stack of papers. Drautos nodded, and walked back to his private office in the back of the cubicles, lightly shutting the door. Pelna shook his head. That. That was worse than doing boring forms all day. He couldn't imagine having to argue for toilet paper and keep a straight face. He turned back to his work, but startled when a loud pop and a shout exploded from Drautos’s office. Pelna shot up in concern, hearing vicious cursing, a second pop, and what sounded like furniture being tossed around. He was halfway across the office floor when the door to the captains office flung open, revealing Drautos, disheveled, wild eyed...and covered in fine, bright pink glitter.
“Are you ok Sir?” Pelna’s jaw dropped, then closed as he took in the fury building in the captain’s eyes and frame. The captain wordlessly held up the empty glitterbomb, and pointed to his office. Pelna slowly leaned around to peer into the sparkle blasted space. From the spray, it was rigged to blow when someone opened the main desk drawer, pointed right where one would sit at a desk, chest height. The second charge coated everything else. It was everywhere.The walls, part of the ceiling,the desk, cabinets, couch...the entirety of the floor...it would never come out of the cheap industrial carpet entirely…
The captain shook himself like a dog, shedding a fair amount of pink sparkles, but as with any fine glitter, it stuck to his skin and clothes. Pelna watched in silence as the captain strode over to glare into the mirror by the small kitchenette in the corner. He snarled, and rounded on the backpedaling glaive.
“You're not the type for this kind of stupidity, Khara. Did anyone come to visit my office?” Pelna shook his head, glancing worriedly at the door. Drautos was not one for outbursts- his control was normally too strong, but the ridiculousness of the situation had worn that away.
“I don’t know who did this, but when I find out who..” Drautos grinned, all teeth.
Pelna nodded, slowly backing towards the door. It might have been the light. It might have been Pelna’s concussion messing with his sight, but with a boom of thunder the power flickered out and Drautos’s eyes glowed blood red in the dark. Pelna’s heart skipped a beat as the captain laughed, talking to himself about what he was going to do to the prankster. It was too much, the glaive backed slowly out of the offices, turning to warn the others.
The group prepared in the arena, lightly warming up. The usual three laps around the arena for a main workout, and then one lap interval sprints for max overload. Lightning flashed overhead, the carbon dome of the arena showing the storm’s fury on full display. The glaives looked up into the gale. Some sleepy, some calm, some excited, and some indifferent. But they all looked. And the power flicked out. Murmurs of surprise flicked around the group, then of concern when Pelna warped into the arena. He staggered with the landing- stupid to warp while concussed- but he looked like a man on a mission.
“Drautos is coming! Whoever in the mother of fuck did it needs to run for their lives- stat!”
“Who did what?” Luche steadied the teetering glaive, putting an arm around him for stability.
“Who did what indeed, my glaives…” Drautos rumbled from the hallway entrance. There was a collective intake of breath at the sight of the captain of the kingsglaive plastered in pink glitter prowling along the edge of the arena. The newer glaives choked back grins, and the more experienced glaives barely held back dropped jaws. Pranking each other was one thing- a common occurrence even!- but glittering the captain? Unthinkable. Until now.
“Since nothing is sacred, the afternoon cardio session will be different from the usual. I want the prankster. Until I get a name, we are going to play a little game.” The glaives dared not to move as their captain circled, grinning with no mirth. No one said a word as Drautos spun, shedding sparkles like a murderous Tinkerbell, typing in a long string of numbers into a security keypad. The building shuddered slightly, and red emergency lights flicked on every so often. Enough to see by, but not enough to see well. Lockdown.
“Sir?...” Libertus began in concern, but was cut off by a laugh.
“Lockdown, as you know, means that the doors to the outside are shuttered and barred, as are the windows, and passageways to the rest of the citadel. We are locked in. There is just the domed arena, and the facilities in the corners- the offices to the north, barracks in the east, armory in the south, and holding cells in the west... I want a name.”
The glaives glanced at each other nervously. Pelna looked at the most rambunctious glaives- Nyx, Tredd, Libertus, Crowe, Luche...all had the wild eyes of kids being blamed for something they didn't do. The others peered into the darkness, innocence on their sleeves. Pelna’s brow furrowed. Who the fuck did it?
“Until I get a name, we will be playing unfair hide and seek. For the next two hours, I will seek- and drag those I catch into the holding cells. Those who are caught will run laps and polish the armory for the next week.” A communal gulp spread through the soldiers.
“Those of you who manage to remain free will have no punishment. If I get a name, all get off free and we forget this happened.” The group inhaled and steeled themselves. Nobody had a name to give, or had the balls to speak up.
“Very well...you have two hours.” Drautos slid his phone out, set an alarm, slid it back in, and growled at his glaives.
“One, two, three…” He slapped a palm over his eyes and snarled.
Reality shimmered in the arena as all glaives present warped away at once, in a wave of effervescent fire, with an incredulous captain angrily counting to one hundred in the epicenter. The fleeing soldiers fanned out once out of hearing range. Pairs or trios of friends slipped into the gloom together, hoping to hide out, or have the option to sell eachother out. Nervous energy crackled in the dark between the red emergency lights. Where to hide? Who would get caught first? Excitement tinged the anxiety, and grins flashed in the maroon glow.
Pelna staggered down the southeast hallway- warping while concussed was awful, but doable. He glanced left- a pair of glaives scampering into the armory- Nyx and Libertus. The armory had crates of gear, weapon racks, a cargo bay, supplies....stacks of things to hide in or behind...not a bad idea. Three glaives slipped him on his right, headed towards the barracks. The barracks was the obvious choice for any seeker to start- rows of lockers, cots spread in small groups, little clusters of couches and tables. Not many glaives used the barracks often, it was just a spot to crash and heal between deployments, or for new recruits who hadn't any outside lodging arranged yet. Rent was fucking cheap, and so was the food brought in from the keep’s kitchens. Pelna stayed a month once, when he first started. It worked.
An arm wrapped around his waist, and Pelna jolted back to reality, barely managing to restrain the punch to Crowe’s now grinning mouth. She pulled him into the shadows as a panicked shape skittered past. She held a finger against her lips, and pointed upwards. Pipes and vents ran the length of the hallway ceiling, supplying heat, air and water to the facilities. He raised his surviving eyebrow. There wasn't enough room for her to squeeze up there, let alone him, or that the air vents probably would not take their weight. She tugged him along, to the doorway to the armory, and pointed up again. He grinned- the main vent widened and dropped lower as it snaked into the armory. There was enough room for someone to curl up there in the darkness against the ceiling, definitely Crowe, probably Pelna. But both? Not without some severe cuddling. She dropped her stance, hooking her fingers together, gesturing to boost him up. His eyes widened, and he started to shake his head, but approaching footsteps quashed his thoughts. He stepped up, and jumped, boosted by Crowe. Pelna hauled himself up quickly, and slid into the shallow, low space. He spun, listening intently. He heard a grunt, and then grunted himself as Crowe popped up and tucked herself into his chest cavity. He held back a noise of surprise as she pressed her face into his neck, making herself comfortable. Or as comfortable as anyone was going to get wedged between a vent and drywall. The skittish steps passed as a lone glaive darted into the armory. They relaxed.
“How did you know about this spot?” Pelna whispered.
“Growing up with Nyx and Libs taught me to find little nooks to hide in. Perfect spot to snipe paintballs from.” Crowe breathed, and Pelna felt her feral grin against his throat.
“Still. How did you know we would both fit?”
“Promise not to tell?” He promised.
“Perfect napping spot. If you go to the office doorway, the hot air return is above the door. I've got a bit of canvas so my skin doesn’t stick to the metal, and some blankets up there. It's heaven.” She smiled.
“That sounds like heaven. Can I steal a nap or two up there?” Pelna breathed.
“Sure, as long as you leave snacks as tribute, and keep the secret..” He nodded.
The door below them to the armory crashed open. His arms slipped around her in shock, holding her close, both holding their breath, listening hard. They couldn’t see, but they could imagine.
“Here I am, glaives! Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Drautos called out into the dark armory. Silence greeted the captain, but he knew better. He grinned, settling into the game. He wanted to play with his glaives, a little mind game could give him a name faster as their nerves failed. He growled into the gloom, stalking around the edges, looking for disturbed gear and boxes. Nyx watched from his perch laying flat on the roof of a transport van. The captain was sticking to the upper armory, tapping on storage crates, Nyx was safe for the moment. As long as the captain didn’t come and check the spare vehicles by the loading dock…
The captain's snarl forced his attention back to the present, and Nyx trembled minutely. Drautos was almost to Lib’s crate- he had stuffed himself in an empty weapons crate, the only kind big enough for him to squeeze into. The captain continued along the row, tapping some, opening others….Nyx gripped the van’s roof rails tight. He was almost there. Two crates away. One crate. Libs!
A choked sneeze echoed through the armory as Drauto’s hand descended towards the crate. The new recruit that slipped in at the last minute. He had dove behind a stack of crates by the door just as Nyx clambered up the van. Drautos grinned madly, teeth shining in the red light. The internal screaming was palpable from all parties but the captain, who personally favored evil glee. Nyx winced at the short scuffle. The captain had the new recruit in cuffs and out the door in under a minute.
Hearing the two sets of steps pass, one steady, the other not so, Nyx peeped over the van roof. He hopped down, and ran as quietly as he could to Libertus. He tapped the lid, just like they used to do in their treefort back in Galahad before it all burned. Libertus cracked the lid slowly, then opened it fully at the sight of Nyx grinning like a madman.
“He almost had you! He was right here! If that newbie hadn’t sneezed!” Nyx whisper-gushed.
“What if he comes back? Get back up there!” Came the whisper-shouted reply.
“It’s fine! It’ll take at least five minutes to lock up the newb and get back here. We have to stretch when we can. How comfy is that box anyway?” Nyx looked at Libertus, all crammed down in that cube crate.
“My neck is killing me, but I’m good. Now hide! If we get caught cuz of you…!”
Twin shadows darted into the armory, and Nyx jumped into the crate with Libertus without a second thought. It didn't quite work though- Nyx was now straddling a kneeling Libertus, their legs stuck solid against the sides of the crate, arms steadying each other. Nyx felt Libertus vibrate in silent fury, and he struggled not to laugh at the entire situation.
The shadows paused, and stepped closer to the struggling pair. As they passed an e-light, their identity was revealed.
Tredd snapped a pic with his phone, and did his best not to make any noise while laughing his ass off. Luche wheezed into a fist, trying desperately not to collapse at the sight. They gestured wildly at each other- Nyx waving happily, Tredd curling his hands into a heart in response, Luche pointing at the space under a nearby weapons rack, Nyx giving a thumbs up, and Libertus flipping everyone off. Luche slid under the rack and Tredd hid under a coat rack packed with old cloaks behind the doorway- after helping get the lid over the now officially stuck pair of galahdians in a box.
Crowe and Pelna could partially see and hear all of the shitshow that happened next. The fact that their screams and laughing fits escaped notice was a miracle. It was fast, maybe two minutes, but the Citadel would never forget the moment when all dignity was lost. Time slowed, yet sped up at the same time. Like a demonic Rube-Goldberg machine on crack with yakety- sax playing in the background.
Drautos returned to the armory with a sense that others were still hiding there. He threw the door open and bounded in. The door flew wide open and hit a pile of cloaks- something supposedly soft- with a painful clonk and a groan. Something on the far side choked on a giggle, and something close by it thumped in place. Drautos grinned, and advanced into the room uncaring of the poor glaive behind the door. He listened hard, and a large crate in the middle thumped again. The captain braced himself and popped the lid. Then all hell broke loose.
Libertus shrieked and flailed, tipping the crate over on its side with Nyx cackling wildly plastered up against him. Drautos roared in surprise, then roared in laughter as he realized two of his finest were hopelessly stuck. Tredd launched out of his hiding spot with all the grace and glory of a boosted turkey, sprinting out the door and taking the coat rack with him. Luche gave up on life and howled with laughter, clutching his ribs. And Drautos? He showed why he was captain.
In a mad dash that would be immortalized in glaive mythos forever, Drautos hauled his crate of glaives over one shoulder, snatched Luche and slung him over the other, sprinting after the sentient panicking coat rack. The captain dropped Luche, gathered every ounce of his strength and yeeted Libertus and Nyx, screaming, at the running pile of cloth. Tredd made it to the edge of the arena before he was blasted with the box-shaped force of several hundred pounds worth of galahdian hysteria. The cloth and soft training floor absorbed the worst of the blow, the glaives landing in a tangled mess of limbs and cloaks.
Drautos, dragging Luche by the leg, jogged over to admire his work, Luche now sobbing with helpless laughter. The captain gently plopped Luche down with the others and planted a boot on the crate, looking down at his soldiers. Nyx was in much the same state as Luche. Libertus hissed and spat like a cat, frantically trying to claw his way out of the crate. Tredd laid there like a slug, seemingly done with the world- probably examining the life choices that brought him here. Drautos stretched and loosed a puff of glitter on the pile of squirming glaives.
“Anything to say for yourselves?” The captain growled playfully.
They opened their mouths to reply, but were cut off by the lights flickering back on and the lockdown features sliding back into normal position. The main door clanged open- the king, flanked by his shield and the marshal strode in. Regis froze at the sight, seemingly unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. Clarus’s mouth worked silently, at the same processing error of his liege. Nobody moved until Cor Leonis coughed pointedly into his fist. Sonitus and Axis strode out uncertainly from behind a column. Pelna and Crowe staggered out from the hall, leaning on each other and still giggling wildly.
“I take it you found my gift?” The Marshall called. The glaives inhaled deeply before breaking into a cacophony of rage, amusement, and confusion.
“I have a name…” Drautos pulled himself up to his full height and fixed his eyes on the marshal. He tossed his cell keys to Axis.
“Release the prisoners. No punishments. This never happened.”
Hope this letter greets all of you in good health and in safety in these tiring times. I understand that it might be difficult for some of you out there!
And I would like to suggest perhaps... another Glaiveweek to get through these horrible times!
Send me messages on what you would like to see theme-wise and also when this week shall happen!
Prompt: Moments of Life- Sleep Deprivation, Reflection, Dancing Like No Tomorrow
Summary: Triple shifts leave the glaives exhausted. Even the Captain can’t take much more. Lack of sleep does interesting things to minds, thoughts, perspectives, and not all of it is bad.
Smaller deployments were almost more stressful on the glaives than larger assaults. During large assaults, the glaives were united, all working together as one to crush foes. They were planned, and the glaive got at least a days notice to prepare. Get some sleep, eat, shower, and actually be relatively ready to go when the time came. They would do their thing, and would be picked up by the crown fleet vans, and be driven home by support staff. It was nice, in the way that it was organized. No surprises.
It was the smaller deployments that came up when a hot piece of intel popped up, normally time-dependent in the extreme. Go here and cut off supply lines to the enemy, find a spy hiding there, stop weapon smuggling here. That sort of thing. Being hot, the notice glaives got was more like half an hour, or even less. It was what turned a long shift into a double, moving glaives to different posts then planned, and stretching already thin staffing. Fewer recruits were making it through training, and the war showed no slowing of casualties.
It was one such occurrence that saw almost all of the glaive crashing at once, or going a little mad at the inability to do so. Three smaller incidents had the glaives running triple shifts to cover all their bases, when the final straw broke the chocobo’s back. Weapons smuggling deal gone wrong, standoff in an abandoned factory in the underbelly of Insomnia. Standard stuff. The captain took Luche, Pelna, and Tredd, with the normal support staff. That left Axis and Sonitus in the office running paperwork and info, and Libertus, Crowe, and Nyx patrolling the outer districts. Crownsguard helped where they could, but running a security detail on a place as big and populated as the Citadel didn’t leave much wiggle room.
The actual combat portion of the standoff didn’t last long, only three minutes. Tredd and Pelna apprehended the arms smugglers while Luche closed off their only exit via shield magic. It was only the processing of evidence/ going through the crates of very nice explosives, and arrangement of transport by the captain that took so long. Evidence was going to have a field day cataloging all of this shit. It took hours, but they finally loaded up and headed out. Dawn was almost here, and they started at dawn yesterday.
Back at the office, Drautos stretched, his back popping in several places. He really needed to talk to Regis about expanding recruiting- this was getting ridiculous. His glaives couldn't take much more of this, and neither could he. Yes, they were tough, and could take harsh battle and prolonged strife, but sustained sleep deprivation this long was unhealthy. Ah well. They would get rest when the morning shift came in, they just needed to finish the reports from the smuggling shenanigans…. The captain glanced at his squad, noting with no small amusement their current arrangement.
Luche seemed to be the only one semi-coherent, scribbling away at his stack of forms, sinking slowly back into the wall- length couch. Tredd blinked owlishly, eyes glazed and body loose. The redhead struggled to stay awake, trying to read the forms, but only comprehending the fog spreading over his vision. Tredd slowly slumped against Luche, head coming to nestle against the man's shoulder. Luche did not react, just kept filling out forms. Pelna snored softly on Luche’s other side, head tipped back, hood pulled over his eyes. Sonitus slept soundly, head pillowed on his arms back at his desk, where he had not stirred since they got back. Axis shrugged, the first on the couch, leaning into Tredd.
Drautos bit back a chuckle. Normally Tredd would never get so cuddly, especially with Luche. Pelna would, and did, often. It was the biggest surprise to see Luche either accepting snuggles, or being so tired to no longer care, or not realize he was now in the middle of a growing puppy pile.
The other glaives fared not much better. Crowe, Nyx, and Libertus resorted to chatting over their earpieces to keep from passing out. It was difficult. Their normal banter faded, getting more and more incoherent.
“Let’s head back. We don’t need anyone getting hurt just returning to headquarters.” Crowe grumbled, receiving grunts of affirmation in response.
Nyx turned, headed back to the Citadel. He felt like the world was cottony- had the lights of Insomnia at night always glowed so gently?- insulated. Muted. Soft colors and quiet sounds, peaceful. Selena would have liked the view, for a little bit at least. This view, where the city wasn’t loud, and it pulsed softly, like the heart of a sleeping giant. The thought of Selena didn’t hurt as much anymore, especially on a night like tonight. Warm breezes blew lazily by, and Nyx smiled in their wake. He wished he could bottle this essence, keep this peace, so that he could always have a little piece of something being calm. He guessed a picture would do, and snapped one with his phone before disappearing into the Citadel.
Libertus yawned, stowing his gear in the armory. The night passed slowly, and without incident for him. His blades would not need cleaning tonight, nor his gear need repair. IT was one perk about patrolling a city, and not a warzone. Demons hurt a lot more than people did. Rolling his shoulders, Libertus caught up with Nyx and Crowe. They slid into the office together, and gasped at the sight.
A pile of glaives cuddled on the couch. Luche muttered in his sleep, Pelna and Tredd using his shoulders as pillows. It was unthinkable, those three cuddling up. Only Pelna was the known serial cuddler here, and seemed to be the only one actively snuggling up- am arm thrown around Luche’s waist. They weren't sure it was real, until Axis groaned, and shifted, sliding down until his head perched in Tredd’s lap.
Crowe chuckled, plopping down and curling around Pelna, her head tucked on top of his. Libertus yawned further, uncaring, and settled in the free spot next to Crowe. Nyx snapped another pic as the glaives rested softly. Even the captain, in his office at the corner, had his feet propped up on his desk, breathing deeply. Never had headquarters known such peace.
Nyx glanced out the window. Dawn would break soon, and the day shifters would shatter the quiet. But for now, it would do. Nyx wedged himself between Crowe and Libertus, snuggling up tight. Nyx slipped into dreams, where the city lights continued to glow, and Selena walked by his side. She did enjoy the view.
Hi guys! Here is my entry for the first day of Glaiveweek 2020! @glaiveweek
Prompt: Sunrise. Rebuilding, Time of Mourning, Time of Healing
Summary: Libertus made it through the fall, to Galahd and back, through demons and darkness. Why did he survive, out of everyone else? He didn’t deserve to make it, didn't he?
Nightmares were constant companions to the remaining glaives and crownsguard after the fall of Insomnia. So few made it out of the destroyed capital alive, and fewer still survived the relentless demon attacks. The ceaseless night held little comfort for the bedraggled combatants. Yes, Lestallum was thankfully warm enough to be comfortable, but thin tent sides never really hid any sounds- especially the screaming. Libertus was scared to close his eyes for a long while after the fall- he saw his friends, his loved ones. They didn't love him in his dreams. They met at their usual haunts and sat together- just like in his happiest memories. Something always went wrong with the old times. They called him a traitor, a coward. Unworthy. How dare he survive where they didn’t?
Crowe smiled with a rotting mouth, her eyes milky. A dead thing trying to greet a living one. She would at least hold a conversation, with enough scathing wit that Libertus could pretend it was the real Crowe there with him. Nyx didn’t say much, just looked at him with scorn and sorrow. He sat on the edge of the dreamscape quietly looking around. Libertus would sit next to him and talk about anything- everything- to get a rise out of his best friend. Nyx never responded verbally, he would just look at the ground between his legs, sometimes crying silently. That was the worst part- the accursed silence. Nyx the hero was never quiet in life, but his nightmare-skewed self offered Libertus no comfort. Luche expressed loudly that he knew all along what was coming, that he was surprised that Libertus- out of all of them- had made it out alive. How dare he? Stupidly broken in combat, yet he made it out. Not any of them, but Libertus. Luche smirked and nibbled his food when Libertus cried in his dreams.
Pelna often held Crowe’s hand, talking softly about mundane things- gardening, weather, cooking recipes...Everyone knew Pelna was sweet on Crowe, everyone but Crowe. He was too shy to speak up about how he felt, and the entire glaive held bets on when he would confess, if he ever would. Now he would never get the chance. But in his dreams, Pelna softly held her hand and watched her trade barbs, eyes sadly smitten.
Cor and Libertus led the united guard and glaive to protect the citizens. Years passed slowly, and routines became deeply ingrained. The power plant kept on the lights that kept people safe. Constant patrols kept the demons back. The tent city that held the glaive and guard slowly morphed into real buildings. (Any glaive could tell you tell you- the adventures out into the dark for building supplies were a task and a half.) The barracks kept out the rain that patched tents couldn’t, and everyone got a bunk to call their own. It was progress, and slowly the glaives felt the solidifying notion that they had something physical to call their own. Even if it was a ramshackle bunkhouse, several sheds, and what equated to an empty barn. It was something they could touch, and it was theirs.
The nightmares lessened as the years went by. Some still woke up in a cold sweat with a gasp, but most were able to settle in and quiet the pain from the past. The survivor’s guilt was fading, healing from a jagged, bleeding wound into a lumpy, scabbed reminder. It would hurt if you poked it, but remained quiet on its own. Too much time was spent everyday fighting to defend the living, too much time was passing. Old pain was fading under the new normal.
A hard shift had Libertus exhausted. Demons needed culling, and so he wet his blades until reinforcements arrived. Afterward, he laid back in his bunk, staring blankly up, rubbing his aching knees. He wasn't a spring chicken anymore, he was pushing forty- gods damn it! Sleep blurred the edge of his vision and he was no longer afraid to let it wash over him. His friends called as his body went slack.
They sat at their usual spot, talking over food and drink. Crowe no longer was vicious in her words, and her body was only slightly discolored, eyes now shiny with life. She argued with Luche over memorable training fails, each rating the best faceplants in accordance to intensity. Pelna smiled, chuckling at their antics every now and then, still holding Crowe’s hand. Nyx actually spoke, still not to Libertus, but to the others- adding his own score to the list. Nyx laughed softly as Crowe got up to illustrate a particularly good belly flop with wild flailing. They no longer blamed him- he no longer blamed himself. Libertus watched his friends, and felt a sense of peace filter through him. What happened was awful, truly, but it wasn't his fault. Libertus breathed softly, relief blanketing him. It was not ok, it might never be, but the weight was off of his aching shoulders. Nyx looked up, and caught his eyes, mouthing something. Libertus woke with a gasp, tears running down his stubbly face. I’ve got your back. Just like always.
More time passed. Libertus helped restore the royal vessel to working status, and awaited the return of the king. Noctis rose, greeting his glaives and guard, before resolving himself to his task. The soldiers watched as he left in the boat, off to triumph over the dark.
Libertus raised an arm to shield his eyes from the light of the dawn. Deafening cheers and cries shook the docks of Galdin Quay. The king- triumphant! Demons were no more, and people could go out and rebuild. It would never be what it once was, and that was ok. There was now a bright future, and a celebration to be had. Some kids born had never seen the sun- the looks of wonder on their faces...Cor Leonis cried at the sight, laughing weakly as Iris wiped at his face.
Dancing, drinking, and cheer lasted well into the natural dark. All the pain. All the loss. All the struggle- it had paid off. They were free. It was going to be ok. Relief roared as loudly as the laughter and cheers, soaking into the weary bones of the survivors.
Libertus staggered to his bunk, deep into a happy buzz that was just the edge of having a great time and starting in on sloppy drunk. The familiar dream settled over his senses before he hit the pillow.
Libertus walked cheerfully to his spot at the table.
“Someone is having a good day.” Crowe raised an eyebrow.
“You bet! Drinks and grub is on me!” Libertus shouted, plopping down.
“What is the occasion? Did you finally get laid by that crownsguard you've had your eye on?” Luche snickered, then squeaked as a furiously blushing Libertus smacked him over the head with a paper placeholder. Crowe laughed, squeezing Pelna’s hand. Nyx grinned. The food arrived, and they tucked in with fervor.
After the meal, Pelna gathered himself and slipped an arm around Crowe’s waist, pulling her close on the cheap bench seat. She paid him no nevermind, leaning into him. Luche’s jaw dropped and Nyx snorted into his beer. Pelna smiled shyly and settled back so she could cuddle further into his side. Libertus chuckled helplessly at the look on Pelna’s face as she snuggled up to him.
“What? Just cuz we’re dead doesnt mean I can’t get me some loving.” Crowe winked saucily. Libertus, Nyx and Luche howled, wolf whistling. Crowe turned to the stunned Pelna.
“I knew, Pels. I knew. I’m sorry I never got to tell you…” She leaned in, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Pelna broke, blushing and mumbling incoherently, to hide his face in her neck. Luche thumped the table calling for more drinks. Tonight was a night to celebrate!
Nyx retrieved the drinks, and raised his in salute at the head of the table.
“To King Noctis, to old friends…” Nyx gestured to Luche and Libertus.
“To love!” He gave his best bow to Pelna and Crowe.
“And to victory!” The group shook the table with a cheer and drank.
After the drink Nyx sauntered over to Libertus and rubbed his shoulders heartily. Libertus startled- this was the first time dream-Nyx touched him voluntarily. Nyx squeezed his shoulders, leaning down to whisper into his ear.
Glaiveweek 2020- Day 5. Chicken Soup Solves Everything
Day 5 of Glaiveweek 2020. @glaiveweek I’m a bit late, but here it is!
Prompt: Angst, Fluff and Smut- Hold On, Time of your Life, Its Warm and Peaceful
Summary: The last wave of winter has a bad case of the flu bringing the glaive to its knees. Luche sneaks off to the kitchens, and finds help in a young adviser.
Spring rain pelted the city, washing away the remnants of winter. However, the two seasons mixed first, bringing icy rain and grey chill to Insomnia. People trudged to work and then ran home. It was too messy to do anything else- and running about in sleet was not the best of ideas. The kingsglaive continued to run as always, but incurred some losses to the flu making its final rounds as the winter heaved its last breath.
Luche warped from the parking garage into glaive headquarters. He bustled forward, trying to shake off the cold. He was on requisition duty today. Axis was out sick, so he needed to inventory the armory for potions, munitions, and weapon stocks. Asking the others about the state of their weapons for inventory might not be a bad idea either- the new forge order for custom weapons was coming up. Best to get ahead before anyone else got sick. Luche smiled to himself. Best to stay ahead of the game.
The offices held the requisition tablet, and the forms needed to be filled out upon application...Someone sneezed. Luche turned to see Pelna making copies, looking absolutely dreadful. His usually warm umber skin looked kind of pale and sickly, his dark hair slightly plastered to his forehead with rain. Luche noted his state, and internally decided to make orange tea later for him.
“You feeling ok, Pels? Looking a little pale there.”
“Yeah...just tired...and achy.” Pelna seemed to droop a squidge more at the admission.
“Take it easy today then. Do you have any custom armor or weapon requests? The forge order is coming through soon, and it's a good idea to check beforehand.” Luche murmured, adjusting the wayward hair on Pelna’s forehead.
Pelna nodded, looking thoughtful, before shivering and turning away with his copies. Luche raised a brow, and changed that internal note to include soup. Charming citadel staff could sometimes beg treats from the castle kitchens. Maybe he could snag something hot- the dark haired glaive looked dreadful. Luche sighed, turning to check in with the captain before going off to the armory.
The captain looked more haggard than usual, dark circles under his eyes. Luche glanced at him from the side, suspicious.
“Here’s the list of things we definitely need, and as for the forge order, I am covered. Very thoughtful though. Recheck the armory and transport vehicles, especially the first aid and potion stocks.” Drautos grated, voice rougher than usual.
“Yessir. You feeling ok? Sound a little scratchy there.” Luche watched, noting some stiffness in his movements.
“I’ll shake it off. I’m fine. Dismissed.” Touchy, too. That meant the captain was solidly out of sorts. Luche saluted, and spun about, wondering if he was the only healthy glaive left.
The armory was peaceful without the music that Axis liked blasting about, but also seemed colder for the same reason. Luche tucked his coat tighter about him, swearing about getting some citrus later. His work passed smoothly, even if the glaives were disasters on a personal level, they kept their gear organized. Arms noted, potions counted, bombs recorded...it had only taken an hour. Six, that was quick. Oh well. Perhaps he could check on the glaives training for possible forge orders. Luche shifted the tablet, making one final note, before heading off for the arena and weight rooms.
Glaives warped and practiced magic at regular intervals in the arena. It was nowhere near the level of energy that was normally used. The sight of half-assed combat drills slowed Luche to a stop. Concerned, he turned on heel and made for the citadel. Whatever bug or fatigue was working through the ranks, he had to do something, else the glaives would start to drop like flies. And yes, this was a common occurrence throughout any historical militia, but these were modern times godsdamnit. Luche would make sure something was done.
It was a quick walk through the hallways that connected the glaive headquarters to the rest of the citadel to gain access to the main keep. His status as a glaive gained him access to the servant hallways, normally only used by crownsguard and castle staff. Luche passed several guards, who raised eyebrows but said nothing. The kitchens were below the main floors, along with the boilers and other service hatches. It was just a few stairs- the elevators were packed with maids bustling with food for the council. Lunch was almost here, they needed to serve early so the council could eat and clean up before the session resumed. It was a tight schedule, but worked if he timed it right. Which was why Luche walked in when he did. The main meal was already measured out, so any leftovers could be served to friendly faces afterwards. Smart guards and glaives made friends with the cooks, because royal leftovers were divine, even when microwaved.
Luche rounded the corner, and put on his best puppy eyes. Single rations were easy to get, but enough soup for a squad of glaives? He would need to charm it up...and stopped at the sight of a kid, perhaps ten, struggling to heft a huge bag of potatoes. The kid panted, teetering, and Luche warped to steady the lad before he fell and hurt himself. The boy peered up from behind thick glasses, auburn hair combed neatly, uniform pressed to perfection. While his appearance was immaculate, his speech was not. A slightly accented voice stuttered apologies and thanks, blushing fiercely. Luche slung the sack over a shoulder, smiling gently. The kid was cute.
“Be more careful, you could pull something by lifting too much at once. Luche Lazarus.” The glaive grinned, offering his hand.
“Ignis Scientia. I will be more careful, thank you.” Ignis shook his hand, and pointed to the high steel countertop where he was trying to put the potatoes.
“What is a kid like you doing in the kitchens?” Luche plopped the sack on the clean metal.
“The cook said if I helped do some chores, he would teach me how to cook.” Ignis stated shyly.
“Oh? Anything in particular?”
“There is a dessert I’m trying to recreate, but I can’t get it to turn out right. I figured asking for help would be better than wasting more ingredients.” Ignis stared at the floor, the tops of his ears burning.
“Practical.” Luche nodded.
The both turned as head chef Brusa bustled forward, a large, jolly man, handing a peeler to the kid, and clapped Luche on the back. Luche smiled, accepting the affection. Showtime.
“What can I do for the kingsglaive today?” The chef grinned, smile softening as Luche explained his plight, working his best sad eyes. His friends were getting sick, and he hoped he could please have some leftover soup to soothe their sore throats, whatever they had, pretty please…
The Brusa was a major softie for the guards and the glaives. He announced that he would not stand by while those so nobly training to defend Lucis suffered. Ignis watched with wide eyes as his first lesson in pastry making was hijacked into a lesson on making soup light enough to soothe troubled stomachs, but hearty enough to sustain soldiers. The young adviser took careful notes- even if this wasn’t pastry lessons, it would still serve the prince if he knew how to prepare foods for illnesses- and helped with the preparation of a huge, several gallon pot of stew.
Luche watched, entranced at the controlled chaos enfolding before him. The chef whirled gracefully, preparing ingredients while lecturing about proper food safety. Clean the carrots, chop the celery, warm the leftover stock, measure out the noodles, the thick ones- these are for the glaives, Ignis!- set them to boil...Luche flicked open the notes app on his phone, quickly recording the recipe, for future use. The chef’s food was never ever a disappointment. Luche had to subtly swallow back some drool as the scent of something scrumptious began to waft through the kitchens. Ignis carefully added diced chicken, dripping some of the fat into the bubbling pot, listening to Brusa chuckle about how noodles soaked up that flavor, making it heaven.
“ A bit of salt, thyme, rosemary..and heres the secret, Ignis, mint. Just a squidge- the camphor in the leaves has been used for ever in cough medicine, chest rubs. Not too much, it is dangerous in large amounts, but just enough. The broth will break up the mucus of the throat, but the mint is what soothes the flesh after.” The head chef beamed, sprinkling a handful into the monster of a pot, stirring excitedly. Luche typed furiously, feeling his own stomach start to grumble- loud enough for Brusa to hear.
“Sounds good, right, glaive?” The chef chuckled, glancing at the sheepish glaive.
“Sounds good, smells amazing. Thank you so much, chef. My compliments.”
“My, my. You haven’t even tasted it!” The chef blushed, still stirring.
“I have to compliment it now, while I still have words, for I’m sure your stew will render me speechless.” Chef Brusa flushed deeper, staring into the pot, before slapping a lid on it.
“Give it ten minuets to boil together, then pour it into one of the travel warmers over by the sinks. Ladles are above. I’m afraid we are low on disposable utensils and bowls, but there are still an abundance of paper cups left over from the prince’s birthday celebration.”
Luche bowed low, thanking the chef, and turned to haul down a warmer, and Ignis scrambled to find the cups. Fifteen minuets later saw the glaive and adviser-to-be turning the corner to the glaive headquarters, leaden with food. Ignis worked hard to match Luche’s stride, fueled by the promise of all the pastry lessons he could want should he help ladle out soup for the glaive. Lunch was about here, and if they worked fast, they could warm up everyone all in one go, as they convened in the common room for break.
Luche and Ignis worked in tandem, handing out cups to exhausted, sniffly glaives. Snacks were always the secret to a soldier’s heart. Libertus tried to be gruff, but at the first sip his eyes glowed, and he mumbled thanks around a mouthful of noodles. Nyx grinned, warming his hands on the cup, sipping slowly, savoring. His eyes slid closed, and he breathed gratitude for the shef. Crowe nibbled on a noodle, pestering him for the recipe, warmth filling her. Tredd took the soup without a word, happily chugging it, giving a thumbs up as he retreated into the common area. Sonitus smiled, seeming the only one still healthy, accepting his share with gratefulness. Only Pelna and the captain were not present, and Luche loped off to the offices.
Pelna typed absently at his desk, clearly in a fog. Luche cocked his head, noting how glassy his eyes were, setting the cup gently in front of the glaive. Pelna seemed to notice the movement, and glanced blankly up. Luche frowned, ignoring personal space, feeling his forehead.
“Guess I’m not doing so hot.” Pelna sighed, picking up the soup, testing the temperature.
“You are doing very hot. That seems to be your problem.” Luche pulled back, concerned by the fever burning under the tanned skin. Pelna grumbled absently in response, chewing slowly.
“Go home. Take care of yourself and don’t spread this around. There is more soup- eat this, then meet me in the hallway. Pack up and go home. I will tell Drautos. Rest.” Luche squeezed his shoulders, and smiled at the sheepish mumble of assent. With that out of the way, Luche turned to check on the captain.
The captain was borderline incomprehensible, his scratchy voice now almost gone. Luche leveled a glare at Drautos, before setting the cup on his desk.
“You sound like shit, captain. With all due respect, get out. Go home, and sleep this off.” Luche growled, not liking the stubborn set of Dratos’s eyes.
“I don’t care. I just sent Pelna home for the same reason. Rest now and heal early, or suffer longer. Choose.”
Drautos glared down into the soup, then slumped as he picked up the steaming cup, trying a few drops of broth. His broad shoulders loosened, and he took a larger draught, unable to hold back the hum of appreciation. Luche continued to glare, until the captain grated out some sort of submission, standing to gather his things. It would do no one good if he was out longer then he had to be, it would be more efficient to nip this in the bud.
Luche waved as the captain and Pelna ambled out into the rain. Mission accomplished. The glaive found Ignis stammering, ladling second helpings to appreciative glaives. The kid looked like he was about to combust under the compliments on his cooking. Several looked better already, Libertus loudly bickering with Nyx on traditional stew ingredients, and Tredd adding his own experience into the mix. Luche smiled, sidling up to the young adviser, helping him dole out more liquid happiness.
“You did really good, kid. If you ever need help, we take snacks as payment.” Luche whispered. Ignis nodded, promising himself to learn more recipes under his breath. Maybe the crownsguard could be bought into favors with snacks too. The marshall’s sweet tooth was legendary. Ignis grinned, and Luche watched with no small amusement. A young adviser, already being taught to bribe glaives. He was proud.
A glance around had Luche affirming that everyone had been served, and poured a cup for himself, gesturing for Ignis to do the same. The soup was heaven, noodles thick, celery and carrots crunchy, chicken hearty...Luche hummed deep in his chest, drinking deeply. The soup warmed him from the inside, sating the hangry festering there, A look about confirmed the other glaives felt the same. Warm, sated, and peaceful.
If, later in the week, Luche awoke to a sore throat and aching body, well. He had the perfect recipe for heaven in a pot.
