Chapter Text
Despite their elite warrior status and the honors awarded to them, there was a certain amount of bullshit that members of the Kingsglaive had to slog through as a part of their duty to the royal family. Some of that bullshit was what Command called “Sensitive Encrypted Communications Monitoring.” Basically, this part of the job was literally looking through the King’s and the Prince’s personal text messages and communications.
Some of His Royal Highness’s conversations went like this:
NOXT: hey fam u wanna play kings knight
NOXT: im lvl 35 now and i unlocked that dungeon
NOXT: prommmmmm kings knight
NOXT: prooooommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
NOXT: prom
PROM: fuck ok dude im awake now i guess
NOXT: lol sorry
NOXT: u dont have to if u need the sleep
NOXT: forgot peasants had actual schedules
PROM: rude
NOXT: u cant call me rude thats treason
PROM: apologies ur royal royalness
More of these conversations went like this:
NOXT: food?
PROM: yes plz
NOXT: crows nest in five?
PROM: make it 15 wanna drop my bag at home
NOXT: yee
And still more of these conversations went vaguely like this:
NOXT: idk man sometimes i dont feel like a prince
NOXT: or like i feel like im not good enough to be a prince??
NOXT: like one day theyre gonna b like
NOXT: nah dude ur not the prince its this other guy
NOXT: and ill b like yea that makes sense
PROM: imposter syndrome i think
NOXT: lol ?
PROM: happens 2 me 2
PROM: i just go through the motions and constantly wonder
PROM: if one day ur gonna discover im just three dogs in a trench coat
NOXT: lmao 3 dogs in a trench coat
NOXT: is that y u actually drooled over specs risotto yesterday
PROM: nah thats just a usual response as a living thing with a mouth
His Royal Majesty’s conversations generally went something like this:
HRMRLC: Clarus, did you find the brief on my desk? -RLC
ClarusA: Yes, Regis, I’ll make sure it gets to the council meeting on time.
HRMRLC: Many thanks, my friend. -RLC
Or like this:
HRMRLC: Cor, I need to ask you a question about popular culture. -RLC
CorL: How can I help?
HRMRLC: What is a ‘meme’? -RLC
CorL: Oh, no.
Or, even like this:
HRMRLC: Ignis, I have a question about Noctis’s finances. - RLC
IgnisS: Yes, Your Majesty?
HRMRLC: I see there’s been an approved transaction of $2,000 to be put towards camera equipment, and the only note in the memo section says ‘Prompto.’ - RLC
IgnisS: Oh, goodness.
Today, His Royal Highness Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum was texting his friend Prompto Argentum, and Kingsglaive Nyx Ulric was in Comms boredly monitoring the interaction as it unfolded.
NOXT: hey did u take any notes in physics i left my notebook at school
PROM: i didnt take any notes srry
NOXT: all good ill swing by the school and grab it
PROM: u sure u dont want me 2? im off in like 5
There was a brief pause in the conversation. It wasn’t more than a minute or so, but Nyx felt like something was off about that pause.
Nyx's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he watched warily as the conversation eventually continued.
NOXT: nah dude ik ur worried abt the art test
PROM: art test?
NOXT: yeah color theory
NOXT: and what the color cobalt 24 means
PROM: dude u okay what art test?
Nyx could feel the blood draining from his face and he lunged across the desk in the Comms office to hit the red emergency button. There was a resounding klaxon alarm and he could make out frantic shouts coming from the other rooms in the building. He could hear the building locking down.
The Citadel took security of the council very seriously - every member on the council was followed when on the premises, their calls monitored, their associates vetted. Every council member was given personal security codes that were reset every year - a “help” code for minor suspicious events and an “oh, shit” code for actual, observable danger.
(The code had a formal name, Nyx knew it had a formal name, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what that name was; everyone, even the captain, always just called it the “Oh, Shit” Code. Nyx was convinced that only the truly stuffy folks on the council would remember its formal name, anyway.)
If the Citadel took the council's security seriously, the Citadel took the security of the royal family to the extreme. King Regis and Prince Noctis both had sworn Shields, all communications were monitored, and every associate was monitored by teams of security personnel. His Majesty was slightly easier to keep safe; after all, the man couldn’t peel himself away from the Citadel long enough to get into real trouble. His “Oh, Shit” Code was changed every two months or so, and knowledge of what it was and what it meant was restricted to the Kingsglaive, Crownsguard, and Regis’s Shield, Clarus.
Prince Noctis was a different story. He had a friend outside the Citadel. He went to school outside the Citadel. Hell, he had an apartment outside the Citadel where he lived most of the time. For all intents and purposes, Noctis was a much softer target than his father because he was so exposed to the public. So, the powers that be had done their very best to make him the hardest target possible.
Prince Noctis’s “Oh, Shit” Code was changed on a semi-regular non-schedule schedule, and was need-to-know only for the Glaives on Comms along with Noctis’s Shield, his advisor, and his father. And up until that morning when Nyx had taken over Comms after Crowe, that code had been “Echo 21.”
That code had been changed to “Cobalt 24” around eight in the morning, right at the Comms shift change, and Crowe had handed that code to Nyx in a sealed envelope and clapped him on the shoulder and wished him a boring shift.
Gods-be-fucking-damned Cobalt 24. His Royal Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum had personally called a code, and Nyx was going to be stuck at the stupid fucking Comms desk while the Citadel scrambled a response.
“Ulric, report!” Cor Leonis barked through the speakers in the desk.
“Prince called code twenty seconds ago, location is currently-” Nyx glanced at the GPS tracking Noctis’s phone “-corner of Birch and 22nd, heading west at 2.5 miles per hour. Last contact was Prompto Argentum by text ten seconds ago. Argentum is stationary at the intersection of 35th and 26th.”
“Info?”
“None so far, just the code. Contact from the King?” Nyx spared a look at the GPS dot of King Regis’s phone, placing him approximately in his chambers at the Citadel.
“He’s locked down. Central is safe for now.”
“What do we do, sir?”
“You’re going to stay at Comms and monitor, Ulric,” Cor commanded.
Nyx pinched the bride of his nose and tried to center himself. “Yes, sir. Plans for Citadel response?”
“Amicitia is scrambling a covert strike team of Glaives. They’ll move to intercept in eleven minutes at Birch and 18th.”
But Nyx was paying attention again to the wide screen showing him the texts between Noctis and Prompto.
NOXT: prmgbnnnnnnn
PROM: dude u ok ur bein weird????
NOXT: I’m fine, Prom. Thank you for your concern.
PROM: ?? ok
PROM: hey, we still on for monarch’s madness tonight?
NOXT: Of course! Will you remind me the time we set?
PROM: whenever youre done with dinner dude
PROM: i remember about that art test now but was more worried about music theory if u catch my drift
“Someone has taken Noctis’s phone and is using it to message Argentum,” Nyx reported as he watched the texts scroll across the screen. He cast his eyes to the GPS dots again and felt a sinking in his stomach when he alighted on Argentum’s dot. “Sir, Argentum is now heading west on 35th and will intercept Noctis in about four minutes at his pace. You need to tell that strike team to get a move on if they want to intercept first; that kid can move.”
“Fucking shit,” Cor responded and yelled something unintelligible to someone else in the room he was in.
A small alarm sounded from the console, and Nyx looked over to see that Argentum was making a call.
“Sir, Argentum is calling Scientia,” Nyx said.
“On speaker, Ulric,” Cor ordered.
Argentum, not even half out of breath for how fast he was running, frantically reported to Ignis Scientia as soon as he picked up, “Ig, Noct’s in trouble!”
*~*~*
“We’ve been made aware, Prompto,” Ignis replied, terse and tense. “Gladio is leading a team to retrieve him. They are leaving the Citadel as we speak.”
Prompto hurdled a baby stroller and continued, stride unbroken. He’d probably get in trouble for leaving the host’s station unattended at the restaurant, but he couldn’t find the wherewithal to care.
“I’m closer than them, Iggy, I’ll be there in four,” Prompto weaved as quickly as he could through a small throng of middle-aged women who were out power-walking. When one of them gasped at him, scandalized, he called over his shoulder, “Sorry, ma’am!”
“How do you know where Noctis is, Prompto?”
“I used ‘Find my Friends.’ Noct gave me permission,” Prompto defended when he could practically hear Ignis’s displeased stare.
“Is there anything I can say that would convince you to stay out of this?”
“Nope! Noct’s in trouble!”
Prompto could hear a brief argument on the other end of the phone but was far too busy mentally bemoaning his choice of wardrobe to pay attention to it. His flat-soled sneakers slammed against the ground sending unpleasant shockwaves up his legs and the sun soaked into his too-warm shirt and pants.
“Very well. You’re approaching Noctis quickly - you are only authorized to stall for time until Galdio arrives. Do you understand me?”
“Yessir,” Prompto hung a left and narrowly avoided a collision with a man holding a travel cup of coffee. He dashed through an intersection and slid across the hood of a car that had edged into the crosswalk.
Prompto checked the dot on the map again to make sure he was in position to put himself right in Noctis’s path, and scrolled back through their conversation to find what he was looking for. It was more than three hostiles, then…
“You’ll intercept in 60 seconds. Keep the call live and put your phone in your pocket. I’ll still talk to you in your headphones, but give no indication that you are listening.”
“Copy that, Specs.”
“And Prompto? Be careful.”
“I will.”
Prompto slowed his pace to a reasonable jog and attempted to get his breathing more under control. He could feel his pulse thrumming in his neck. His phone carefully shoved into his front jacket pocket, and with one earbud in as if he’d been jogging recreationally, Prompto rounded one more corner and saw Noctis.
Noctis, more tense than Prompto had ever seen him, was surrounded loosely by five tall men dressed in varying flavors of expensive streetwear. They walked together at a near-leisurely pace down the sparsely-populated street; one man led the group and four others walked around Noctis, two on either side. Blood leaked slowly from the prince’s nose, and Noctis’s lower lip was split open.
“Five visible hostiles,” Prompto muttered into the microphone attached to his earbuds.
“Understood.”
It was more than normal for Noctis to go unnoticed when walking around through Insomnia - he didn’t draw much attention to himself on principle and was very good at fading into the background of the normal hustle and bustle of city life. Nobody had noticed the prince at all, let alone the fact that he was bleeding and practically being escorted by criminals. And those criminals had probably threatened him in some manner to keep it that way.
Noctis noticed Prompto before his would-be entourage did, and his eyes went wide and frightened. He appeared to shake his head slightly, as if urging Prompto to leave the issue alone.
“Find a way to bump into one and make it look natural,” Ignis commanded.
Prompto, still jogging sedately, made a big show of angling his wrist to look at his watch and checking his pulse with his other hand. It was when he was staring down at his wrist that he “accidentally” bumped into the goon walking closest to the street. The small group came to a halt all at once, though now there was a significant gap between Noctis and the two men on the street side. Now, Prompto just needed to keep them there.
“Holy shit, man, I’m so sorry!” Prompto exclaimed loudly, reaching out to steady the man in the hooded blue sweatshirt. He brushed some nonexistent lint of the man’s shoulder and continued, “Man, are you okay? I really need to watch where I’m going better, that was my bad!”
“S’all good, dude,” the man replied through a stiff jaw. He sounded hoarse, like he’d smoked for years and years. Prompto noticed a prominent scar on his neck that climbed up to his left cheek.
“Hey, I know this is gonna sound really weird, but do I know you from somewhere?” Prompto asked with a bright grin.
“Nah, think you got the wrong guy,” the man said with no small measure of finality. He shifted around like he wanted to start moving again.
“Push him further.”
Prompto did his very best to exude genuine confusion, “You sure? I coulda sworn I had a class with you sometime. Anthony? Andre? You played King’s Knight with me that one time? Dude, that new expansion’s comin’ out soon with that big tattooed guy and a group of mercenaries and it’s gonna be really intense and super cool!”
The man began to look frustrated, but didn’t seem to be suspicious of Prompto. “Really think you got the wrong guy. I don’t know you.”
“Ah, well. Noggin hasn’t been right since I took that spill on Angler Street, anyway. Sorry, again, for running into you, I bet you’re real busy and - Oh, my goodness, Your Highness!” Prompto finally let his focus be completely on his friend and proceeded to pretend as if he had never met him in his life. He shifted subtly closer to Noctis, bowed as deeply as he dared, and continued loudly, “I’m so sorry, Prince Noctis! I’m sure you have important places to be and it looks like I’ve delayed you!”
Across the street, there were finally civilians starting to take notice of Noctis’s presence. Some openly stared and a few got out their phones to start taking pictures. Prompto noticed belatedly that it appeared there were more goons - five? Six? - on the other side of the street who looked a mite more suspicious of Prompto than the ones right in front of him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Noctis said stiffly. He had lost some of the terror but there was still a coiled tension in his shoulders and back.
“Gladio to intercept in twenty seconds.”
“Still,” Prompto said, “I just- I feel so bad about running into your friend and keeping you from your important royal things. I’ll let you get back to your day now, Your Highness!” He locked eyes with Noctis and nodded once, trying his very best to convey what was about to happen.
“Three, two, one-”
Prompto pulled a loaded pistol from the arsenal.
Gladio and his team seemed to emerge - fierce and menacing, late afternoon sunlight glinting off of blades and pistols - from everywhere all at once. Glaives warped onto the scene in impressive shattering blue light, hooded and armored. They all also seemed to be very keen on screaming instructions at the entire street.
“Citadel Kingsglaive! Let me see your hands!”
“Move away, now!”
All of the goons turned towards the shouting Glaives and the very pissed-off looking Shield, and it was in this momentary distraction that Prompto made his move. He got a shot off at the back-right goon and when the man with sagging jeans stumbled away, Prompto pulled Noctis through the gap that he’d created. No longer surrounded by goons, Prompto whirled to keep Noctis behind him.
The once-quiet street filled with the rapports of many, many guns, and the startled screams of the citizenry.
Five dark-clad Kingsglaive warped out of nowhere and attacked the group of men who’d been surrounding Noctis, who all startled and began scrambling to fight back. The back-right goon that Prompto had shot lay crumpled on the ground, immobile.
Gladio and the Glaives were incredibly effective at maintaining the attention of all of the would-be kidnappers. Prompto was glad that the attention was off of him and Noctis, though he continued to back further down the street and away from the confrontation with his gun drawn.
“Hey, Prom,” Noctis greeted, mild as milk.
“‘Sup, Noct?” Prompto kept slowly backing the two of them up.
Prompto heard Noctis pull a weapon from the arsenal (bright, crystalline shattering) and turn around so his back was to Prompto’s.
“Prompto, what is Noctis’s status?”
“You okay, bud? Iggy’s asking about you.”
“Not any worse than usual,” Noctis said good-naturedly.
“That bad, huh?” Prompto joked.
“I’m okay. Bloody nose and split lip, but nothing else,” Noctis affirmed.
Prompto kept his eyes trained on the slowing firefights and brawls while Noctis kept his eyes on the other side of the street. The Glaives and Gladio were very close to having all of the visible would-be kidnappers in handcuffs. “Noct, my phone is in my pocket if you wanna grab it and put it on speaker.”
“On it, Prom. You’re on speaker, Igs.”
“Highness, I’m glad to hear you’re alright.”
“Glad to be alright, Specs,” Noctis replied.
“Prompto, what’s happening there?”
“Looks like Gladio and the Glaives have mostly cleaned the place up. I’ve got Noct behind me and I’m moving down the street. Instructions?”
“Hold your position and wait for Gladio or a member of the Kingsglaive to approach you. They’ll tell you the all-clear code and you will follow them to a vehicle that will take you to the Citadel.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Prompto.
“I need a fucking nap,” Noctis complained.
~*~*~
The thing was, Noctis had actually been having a pretty alright day before the whole kidnapping fiasco. It was nice out, the homework load for later that evening hadn’t been too wild, and he’d been meandering his way slowly back to the school to grab his physics notebook. The modified plan was to get the notebook and then pick Prompto up from work so they could work on the homework together.
His walk had been rudely interrupted by the approach of several people and the subsequent threats they made not only to his life but to the lives of the ordinary citizens walking around in the streets, as well. When it came to combat, Noctis was good, but he wasn’t “take down five armed dudes and possibly more armed dudes you can’t see quite yet” good.
Noctis hadn’t been able to guess where they were taking him on foot, but he’d guessed the plan was to get him to either a secluded building or to get him to a location where they could get him into a car inconspicuously.
He’d bargained with the one in the black hoodie to let him conclude his conversation with Prompto, at least, under the justification that the blond wouldn’t become suspicious. He’d started immediately with one of the codes he and Prompto had come up with, then shifted to the Official “Oh, Shit” Code that he’d been given that morning and hoped that that set something in motion. When the conversation didn’t end there, the dudes had grown visibly frustrated with Noctis and had taken his phone. (There was a small scuffle here, where Noctis had attempted to resist the theft of his phone and had received a right hook to the face for his efforts.)
Apparently, whatever exchange the dudes and Prompto ended up having through Noctis’s phone was enough to spur Prompto into action. Noctis honestly hadn’t anticipated Prompto coming to the scene himself (he had really hoped that Prompto would just reach out to Ignis or Gladio and let them know about the situation if they didn’t already), but he couldn’t deny that he felt much safer knowing that Prompto had his back and had a gun.
The arrival of the Kingsglaive and Gladio provided a much-needed feeling of safety, as well.
But the adrenaline was wearing off somewhat, and Noctis was growing tired and shaky. He glanced around for Gladio or a Glaive, but no-one was approaching yet. The team was putting the finishing touches on the perps’ cuffs across the street, and it looked like Gladio was on the phone.
“I need a fucking nap,” he complained. His lip still stung and he resisted the urge to touch it.
“We’ll have you home soon, Highness,” Ignis said through the phone.
“Hmm,” Noctis vocalized.
“Noct, Glaive approaching at my twelve o’clock,” Prompto said urgently.
Noctis turned and felt cool relief sink into his stomach when he saw Crowe’s concerned but mirthful expression as she approached them. Her hair was mussed and there was a streak of blood on her right cheek, but she didn’t appear any worse for the wear otherwise.
“Hey, Highness,” Crowe stopped a reasonable distance away and continued, “got the word to take you and blondie home.”
“Hey, Crowe. Gotta ask you for the all-clear,” said Noctis.
“Sure thing. As soon as we get you kiddos back to the Citadel, we’ll have ‘all our green chocobo chicks in a row,’” Crowe recited.
“We’re clear, Prom. She’s got the right one,” Noctis turned around fully and put a hand on Prompto’s shoulder.
Prompto relaxed minutely and nodded, “Lead the way, ma’am.”
“Just ‘Crowe’ is fine, blondie,” the Glaive insisted. “Let’s get you two to the car.”
Crowe was leading Noctis and Prompto to an armored black car that’d pulled up to the curb when Ignis spoke again.
“Your Highness, Prompto, I will collect you when you arrive at the Citadel,” came Ignis’s tinny voice from the other end of the phone.
“Thanks for the help, Igs,” Prompto said.
“Yeah, thanks, Iggy,” Noctis agreed.
Ignis’s reply of “Just doing my duty” may have sounded callous to anyone else, but Noctis could hear the gentle fondness and mild relief.
“Talk to you in a few,” Prompto said and hung up the phone.
Crowe ushered the teens into the back of the car and climbed into the front passenger seat herself as soon as the door was closed.
Noctis sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, relaxing a little bit in the reinforced car. The vehicle pulled smoothly away from the curb and joined a line of law enforcement vehicles, all of them running their lights. Concerned citizens lined the streets, stopping and staring at the convoy.
“Heard you had a rough afternoon, Your Highness?” Libertus asked from the driver’s seat.
“A little more rough than usual, yeah,” Noctis said. “Where’s Gladio?”
“A few cars behind us, Highness,” Libertus answered, turning the car around a corner.
“Hmm,” acknowledged the prince.
Noctis then paused and started to consider the implications of the kidnapping attempt and realized that he would definitely be having a fight with his dad about this one. It would be made magnitudes worse when his dad inevitably found out that Noctis hadn't really bothered to try to defend himself. Noctis made a small sound in the back of his throat, barely a groan, and startled slightly when Prompto’s hand landed on his knee.
“You hurt at all, Noct?” Prompto asked, still very tense and alert.
“Not hurt,” Noctis smiled ruefully, “just thinking about this mess is all.”
Prompto nodded and removed his hand, but didn’t lose the stiff posture or wide eyes.
Noctis felt a little flare of concern.
“Hey, Prom? You can chill a little bit, y’know? Car’s armored, windows are bulletproof. Libertus and Crowe aren’t gonna let anything happen; they’re pretty badass,” said Noctis.
“Yeah, blondie, you decided to go and do our jobs for us already - let me and Lib do some of the heavy lifting now,” Crowe agreed lightly, her eyes meaningfully locking with Noctis’s in the rearview mirror.
Noctis nodded once at her. He appreciated the attempt.
“You sure, Noct?” Prompto asked after a moment, his right hand still clutching the grip of his pistol.
“We’re good, Prompto. It’s all good. Feel free to keep the gun out, though, if it makes you feel better,” Noctis replied.
Prompto said nothing else but nodded slowly and visibly relaxed. The gun, Noctis noticed, stayed right where it was.
“We’ll be at the Citadel in about five minutes, Highness. We’re going to go through the garage and your security team will take you from there,” Crowe spoke up, her fingers nearly a blur as she responded to a text message.
Noctis thought very briefly about lockdown and had a horrifying image of Prompto being stuck in a room in the Citadel by himself, worried about further attacks or harm. He made an executive decision instantly.
“And Prompto stays with me,” Noctis said. His tone left room for no arguments. He met Crowe’s eyes in the rearview mirror again. “We debrief together, we lockdown together.”
Crowe raised a brow. “The Captain might not like that very much.”
“If Drautos has a problem, I’d be happy to address it with him,” Noctis insisted.
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Crowe seemed amused. She glanced back down at her phone and started typing again.
Noctis looked out the window, noting that the convoy was blazing through another blocked-off intersection.
The buildings were growing taller and more impressive the closer they were getting to the Citadel, and Noctis felt at once more secure as the area became more familiar to him and more anxious as he knew he was getting closer to a confrontation with his dad.
Shit, Noctis thought, he's gonna be so pissed.