M.E 756 (Five Days before the Fall of the Crown City)

Damn jacket's uncomfortable, Gladiolus Amicitia thought rolling his shoulders. Going to be hard enough as it is. He checked the bouquet of white flowers clutched in his right hand from Insomnia's best florist, thanks to Ignis. Dressing up hadn't been his plan; the suit had been Ignis' idea, too, but Gladio skipped the vest and tie. "She will think the worst," he muttered, stretching his neck, a futile attempt to relax. He knocked on her door once, thinking on the events of his day thus far.

Before sunrise, he'd sat with Ignis through a briefing. His father, Clarus Amicitia, had not attended and instead asked to see his son in private.

The early morning sun cut through the windows in the east parlor; Clarus still wearing his robes from the meeting the night before. Had Iris not called Gladio's cell, he might have assumed an early morning for his father. A King's Shield knows no rest, he thought, recalling the endless list of expectations in Gladio's future. His sister's assertions that their father hadn't returned home reignited Gladio's concerns. The war with the Niflheim Empire deepened wearing the resources of Lucis and its King; even Ignis had expressed quiet concerns when Prince Noctis wasn't within earshot about the King's declining health. Gladio assumed the meeting might fill in what no one seemed willing to share.

Waiting at the door for permission to enter, the events over the past few days took a visible toll on the man Gladiolus assumed unbreakable, his father's blank stare looking out over Insomnia as it woke, revealed disturbing changes in Clarus. His father had always been imposing, standing at the King's side. Gladio understood being the King's Shield meant more than just protection; Clarus shouldered the burden for his King. For the first time that Gladio could recall, the price of service showed. Shoulders bowed, heavy with the weight of some unknown burden, Clarus closed his eyes and sighed.

An uncomfortable weight settled in Gladio's chest, and he coughed for his father's attention.

The sound broke Clarus' reverie, and a practiced smile greeted his son. "Gladiolus. Thank you for meeting me, I know the Marshal has spoken with you and Ignis but I wish to make a few comments before your departure." Gladio rarely took notice of his father's moods, there weren't many of them, this seemed off . . . even for him.

Typical Dad. Why be warm when you can be direct? "Yes, father." Gladio learned years ago, that this was the best he could hope for and he waited, holding back the impatience growing in the silence.

"I have made assurances for Iris in your absence. Jared will have help, rest assured." Clarus explained, not quite meeting his son's eyes. Gladio hadn't considered Iris needed special care, at fifteen she was more self-sufficient than most adults. Jared their family steward, slowing because of his years, often deferred to Iris in the running of the Amicitia household.

"No offense, but Noct is expecting me. There a point in here somewhere?" Gladio hadn't meant the disrespect that fell, and by the narrowed look he received from Clarus, it wasn't appreciated forcing a quick apology. "I'm sorry. This little trip doesn't make sense. I feel there's more to the story, and I thought you might have asked me here to explain. If I'm to help Noctis, I need to know everything."

Clarus couldn't explain further. It would be better not to burden his son and compromise the mission. "You're right, Gladiolus," his father agreed, "it means you must put Prince Noctis first in all things."

Here it comes, Gladio thought, holding his tongue.

Unaware of his son's sour expression, Clarus continued. "Before you leave, you must end your . . .dalliance with the Callidus girl. You can't afford distractions, Gladiolus."

"Dalliance? Really? That's what you call it?" Bringing up Ava added to Gladio's frustration. This was the third time since he woke that one of his superiors mentioned his relationship. It wasn't public, only a select few knew. All pretense of politeness gone, Gladio fired back. "Since when does it matter? Cor told me the same thing, but my private life has no bearing on this trip."

"Your life is not yours, Gladiolus. We Amicitia are the sworn-"

Frustration forced Gladio's rudeness and interruption over the same tired speech he'd grown up with, "-sworn shield of the king. Yes, I know. Noctis is not the king, but I have yet to fail him, even with my distractions, father. You do your job without interference, let me do mine."

Stubborn met its mirror, the two facing one another. Clarus relented first. "Gladio." The softness in his voice, the use of the familiar both foreign to Gladio's ear. "This is as much for her protection as yours. The Empire arrives and make no mistake they will look for weaknesses. The Callidus family has strong ties to the royal line. Niflheim must not learn of any possible pressure points."

"Pressure points? Ava is a member of the Crownsguard, not some girl I picked up in a bar." Ava answered directly to Cor Leonis, she along with a small group of operatives served as an intelligence core for Lucis. "She's hardly a weak link, father."

Clarus swallowed his retort and continued. "Both of you must focus on your respective tasks. Unless there is a need to discuss this further, I should not keep you from Prince Noctis."

"Right." Jaw set, Gladio said nothing further and turned toward the door. "If that's it then."

An attendant arrived announcing King Regis reconvened the meeting pending Clarus' arrival. Clarus joined his son and paused, placing a strong hand on Gladio's shoulder. "I trust you. If you hear nothing else in my words, know I trust in you."

"What the hell does that mean?" Gladio leaned back, sticking his boots on the coffee table.

Chuckling softly at Gladio's disregard for the furniture, Noctis called to Ignis. "Hey Specs. Check it out."

The final boxes containing Noctis' personal items would likely be stored in the palace and the apartment- owned by the royal family- would remain unoccupied, yet Ignis could not allow the space to be left cluttered and unkempt. His expression showed no annoyance, but the slight displeasure in his tone grew as he spoke. "Would you kindly remove your boots from the furniture, and what does what mean, Gladio?"

With a grumble, Gladio complied and stood. "You must focus on your respective tasks. That's what my father said. This whole thing is just bits and pieces. Come on Iggy, you understand all this political crap. What's the deal?"

Ignis didn't reply immediately, the truth of the matter troubled him. He'd been tasked to stay with Noctis and supervise the packing of the apartment, rather than attend the usual docket of discussions and meetings. The pointed request still seemed odd, given Ignis' expected attendance daily. Messages from his Majesty King Regis had altered in their delivery, rather than the King's preferred direct communication, requests and questions funneled through the Crownsguard. The oddity resonated for Ignis, but without understanding the reasons behind the changes, he followed the King's orders without fail.

"The deal, Gladio, is that we are to finish this and then prepare to depart in two days' time. If more exists to those orders, I assure you I know as much as you. Did you think to inquire of your father further?" No matter how logical Ignis' explanation, it never failed to irk Gladio.

A gruff laugh and glance at Noctis showed Gladio's thoughts on his father. "Oh, I thought of a few things, but was dismissed before I could inquire further." He pressed Ignis. "Iggy, it's obvious to me there's something going on, and I'm not the brains of this group. So, no bullshit, what do you see?"

Noctis didn't bother to hide a grin, Gladio and Ignis were usually good for a few rounds of verbal sparring, all in good fun, but Noctis wondered what had gotten into Gladio. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, but before he could ask, Gladio's phone vibrated on the empty table.

Watching the phone go unanswered, Ignis and Noctis pointed out the buzzing. "Yea, I hear it. I'll deal with it later."

Seconds after Gladio's phone stopped, Ignis' phone rang. Looking at the display, he held up the cell. "Gladio, it's Lady Avis." Ignis always referred to Ava in the formal. Her mother, Lady Juno Callidus, served on King Regis' council.

"M'yeah. Figured it might be. I'm not here," he said sinking back into the couch.

Ignis, never one to give in to rudeness, answered. "Lady Avis! Lovely to hear from you." Ignis listened. "Of course . . .Ava, apologies."

Brow furrowed, Noctis wondered why Gladio didn't want to talk with Ava. She'd gone to school with Ignis and Gladio, and she'd been around the Citadel for as long as he could recall. He leaned over toward Gladio and whispered. "You two have a fight?"

"Let it go, Noct." Gladio whispered.

Ignis continued his conversation. "Splendid idea, what time?"

Turning their attention to Ignis, the two listened as he made plans for the evening. Noctis, seeing Gladio's confused reactions waited until Ignis put the phone down. "So, Specs. You and Ava going out tonight?"

Ignis stared at Noctis without a hint of emotion. "Hardly. Gladio, you have been invited to dine with the lady. I suggest more appropriate dress and flowers. Plan to arrive at her apartment at six."

"Iggy, I'm not doing this. We won't be gone more than a few weeks."

The cell phone slid easily into Ignis' hand and his desired number dialed- he waited. "Crown City Florist? Ignis Scientia. Yes, pleasure to speak with you again as well. I have a bit of a rush for you," he explained outlining in detail what he hoped to have prepared in a few hours.

"Doing what, Gladio? What's the big deal? I thought you two were-" Noct raised his eyebrow, a friendly tease.

"Were being the operative word. I'm supposed to end it. My father, Cor, even Monica ordered me to break it off." Gladio grumbled. "It's not like I have a choice. Not about to stop following orders now."

"Wait, what?" Disbelief crossed the Noctis' face. "You can't just. . .Gladio, you're not seriously considering this are you?"

"Yea, Noct. I have to. No matter what, my duty is to King Regis and to you. Even if it means I tell Ava we're done." Slapping the top of his thighs, Gladio stood. "She'll understand. At least, I'm almost sure. What's the worst that could happen?"

Noctis scoffed. "She'd kick your ass, that's what."

"She could try." Gladio fired back.

Arms crossed Ignis waited for their conversation to break. "The bouquet waits for you, under your name, I suggest you get moving. Gladio, consider a suit, or something other than your usual choice of wardrobe."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Gladio's leather pants and combat boots along with his Crownsguard tank comprised his usual wardrobe.

Snickering into his hand, Noctis agreed with Ignis' suggestion. "Oh yea," Noctis nodded as he spoke, "definitely a suit Gladio."

Pointing toward the prince Gladio silenced him, but Noctis' wide grin didn't fade.

Gladio hesitated before knocking a second time, but before he could, Ava Callidus opened the door.

"Hey. Tough guy." She smiled, leaning on the door. "Nice suit, Ignis must have twisted your arm."

Her playful tease and bright eyes coaxed a half-smile from Gladio. "Yea, well. Here," he said, holding out the flowers to her. "Ava, we need to talk."

Seeing his discomfort, she tried to lighten the mood. "Just like that? No, nice to see you Ava. Sorry I didn't take your call. You want to talk here in the hall? Come in, lose the jacket and relax. We'll talk."

She'd left him standing in the open doorway, calling over her shoulder about a vase and water. A sigh carried him inside. "Damn, real smooth," he said shaking his head as he shrugged off the jacket. On the end table sat a picture of the two of them, right after she'd joined the Crownsguard. "Must have gotten this from Iris." It hadn't been the best day, Gladio surprised she'd want to keep the photo.

Gladio and Ignis searched for Ava, she'd been led to pick up her uniforms; assigned to the Marshall, she'd hardly have need of them, but it was the last step to joining the Guard. Raised voices caught their attention in one of the side salons.

"Don't lecture me about my father!" Ava's voice rang out from the left side. "You know nothing of him!"

Stepping into the salon, Gladio's brow creased seeing her anger directed at Clarus Amicitia, his father.

Clarus kept an even voice, but there could be no doubt to his displeasure at her remarks. "Avis, I'll overlook your tone. Allow me to start over." He handed her a long, wide box. "These were to be a gift to your father from a group of us; the members are not of any consequence. Your father was. . .my friend; his loss- I kept these hoping one day I might have the opportunity to honor him." Without another word, Clarus left the room, a simple nod his only recognition to his son.

A vague excuse carried Ignis from the room leaving Gladio unsure what to say. He watched her place the box on a side table, lifting its cover. She gasped reaching inside, pulling out a curved dagger. The handles had been wrought in a shape and design to a large black wing, and the blade's etched design was that of a black bird. "Corvus," she said, "his symbol. It's like a signature on everything he owned, rather than a name, he put this symbol." She laughed once, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

He'd never seen Ava cry, not even when they were kids, but unsure what to do, he tapped her on the shoulder. Turning to face him, tears still falling, she apologized.

The picture was taken just after that moment, he'd lifted her chin and winked. Picking up the picture frame, he wandered into the small kitchen. "I remember this," he said, lifting the frame in his right hand. "There you were, all emotional over these little knives. Gotta love a woman who tears up over weapons."

"Is that right?" The way she tilted her head back and laughed relaxed him. Gladio's glazed expression drew her closer, until she kissed him, a simple gesture of affection.

Gladio hummed in response, but his firm but gentle hand pulled her back to him. "Hey," he said, lips hovering over hers. "I did bring flowers."

"Mmm. So you did," she said before he covered her lips.

There was something in the way he kissed, never tentative, not once in the years they'd been together. Hand pressing against her back he stopped, inhaling her scent, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers before finding her lips again. Resisting the urge look to his eyes, his stare fixed and wanting he lifted her chin to meet his. A third time he claimed her lips, tongue slipping inside her mouth, and guiding her in slow careful steps toward her room.

Ava pulled away. Heavy breaths failed to calm her heart exploding in her chest. "Gladio. . .I can't. I swear, there is nothing I want more than to follow, but there's something I need to say." Unsteady steps carried her away from him to return to the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Shaking his lust filled thoughts away, Ava's sudden change concerned him, a heaviness sitting low in his chest. Following and yet still giving her space, Gladio watched her hand shake as it reached for a glass, troubling him more. "Ava, talk to me."

Without facing him, she held her hand up. "Give me a minute," she said, filling the glass with water from the kitchen faucet.

Seeing her fully, searching her person for any hint of an explanation a marked change caught Gladio's attention. "You cut your hair, sorry- I should have noticed." She'd worn it long and had since they were younger, but kept it so because he mentioned once how he liked it. Ava's hair, dark like his, had been cut to the nape, showing the slender curve from her neck to her shoulder.

"Yea. About that." She swallowed hard, and her usual strength of voice disappeared. "I've got a new assignment . . . and. . . if it were up to me. . . Gladio, I'm sorry."

Concern moved him to hold her, gently rubbing her arms in support. "What is it?"

She exhaled, stiffening her stance in an effort to pull strength. "We can't do this anymore."