[After things began to finally settle down following the media circus of a trial and the vacation in Alola, life settled into something much less chaotic for better or worse. Ardyn still traveled on occasion, doing a number of interviews and general appearances mostly because he genuinely enjoyed the popularity and partially because even with the settlement, a little extra cash wasn't going to hurt.]
[But this was home--a nice set of apartments for the Glaive and extended family, some space for a few chocobos hidden from the general public of Akira's Tokyo with illusion magic, and most importantly somewhere safe and relatively quiet to return to with the person he loved more than anything in the multiverse.]
...I still think 'Ardyn Tenmyouji-Church' has a sort of charm to it, personally.
[And loved to annoy the hell out of.]
But then again, six syllables is enough for a sufficiently dramatic introduction.
[Rest assured that a fair majority of the time, Church has been right alongside him, either to also do interviews--who doesn't love being the center of attention, especially with the more prolonged legal issue of 'at what point do we classify an AI as a person'--or to be Ardyn's more or less bodyguard. And it's also been weird to try to get used to another Earth. A different Earth. A less advanced Earth that also, under the surface, has some weird metaphysical mumbo jumbo going on. In Japan.
It's an adventure for everyone who is not Japanese, okay?]
If you're waiting for me to object to you taking my name, you're not gonna hear it. I still think you should drop Pete's name, but only because it's a really dumb name that even he admits is dumb.
Lucis Caelum-Church, though, that one doesn't have a ring to it. Church-Caelum? Meh...
You're still kind of a Church and I'm still kind of a Tokyo Mew Mew, it works out somehow.
[...Domesticity wasn't too bad, Ardyn had very quickly decided. Maybe it was a little quieter than he was accustomed to, but ultimately that wasn't remotely worth complaining about. Not to mention it didn't take much to break up any sort of monotony, not when there were several chocobos well within range.]
[That was how Ardyn came to walk back inside one early evening, feathers in his hair and a few wayward smudges of dirt on his face and hands. From king to outcast to chocobo rancher. He was pretty sure he could do worse.]
[Listen. Church has certain rules about the chocobos. And the ranching. These are rules that will, with time, deteriorate and erode away. For now, it makes his husband happy, and that's good, and the birds stay outside where they're supposed to be, and dear god what is in his hair.]
...No.
[Church just shakes his head.] Absolutely not. You look like you were mud wrestling with your overgrown chickens. I feel like I need to take a hose to you. [No, Ardyn's not that bad. Yet. But overdramatics are in the bloodline, clearly.]
[It was late one night when everything at last began to sort itself out. A dream of ancient memories, of one’s mocking laughter and another’s gentle smile. Betrayal after betrayal after betrayal, and eternity locked in the darkness. He woke up in a cold sweat, tense as he pulled himself to a sitting position and staring at scarred hands. Somnus. Gilgamesh. Aera.]
[It was all a lie. Lies he told himself, lies told to the world, all fabrications and nonsense.]
[Slowly he pressed his hands to his face, drawing a shaking breath that came out in a broken sob.]
[Ardyn having nightmares was nothing new. Sure, perhaps they were starting to come more frequently as of late, but it was nothing they couldn't work out with some reassurance and closeness, calmness. Whether Church just had a sense of when something disturbed his husband's sleep or if something in the movement and change of breathing and whatnot tended to wake him, he could never say. But wake he did.
He reached over to rub Ardyn's back at first as he started to wake, at least until he could get himself up enough to a position to hug him instead.]
[In the weeks that followed, Ardyn was recovering about as well as one could. The nightmares had lessened even if the trouble sleeping still lingered, the whole affair leaving him a bit quieter and more reticent. But he was pulling himself together, and today found him outside with the one remnant of his old life that he liked; his beloved giant black chocobo. He'd tied is hair back into a loose braid before straightening up the stables, then pocketing his gloves to pet a very insistent Philomela headbutting his shoulder.]
[If nothing else, he was functioning and that was already a good step forward.]
[And every step forward is accompanied by a loving husband. Their past lives might have run them over with a few trucks, but they moved ever forward, however slowly they could.
Church leaned in the doorway, one hand holding a delicious steaming mug of something, and the other held...well, something with less sugar in it but still steaming and arguably delicious.]
Do you ever pay any attention to that poor neglected bird?
[It was a calmer, quieter realization this time. The last pieces sliding into place at last, and with it everything made sense. The memories of two thousand years hadn’t all been fake—they simply hadn’t been his, and with countless experiences lost in the endless legion of lives he’d destroyed Ardyn had forgotten the difference. Much like he’d forgotten a lot of things.]
[But he woke up that morning to sunlight that didn’t burn his skin, to someone who...who surely would never have sold him out for the good of the world. Who would have told Bahamut to fuck right off, who would have held Ardyn’s life to have value enough to at least question such a thing.]
[Right?]
[Ardyn bit his lower lip hard enough to taste very human blood, getting up and going to make breakfast. Sleeping in wasn’t going to happen today.]
[Ardyn being out of bed before him is a rare thing. It has, in his experience, never meant anything good. To stretch out against the morning rays of the sun and find the other side of the bed empty, it means something happened. Because something must have happened, right?
On the other hand, he can smell breakfast gently wafting from the kitchen. Stress cooking? Church tucks a robe loosely around himself and pads kitchenward. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine. Ardyn is awake and alive and possibly just didn't want to bother him with another nightmare.]
[Idly humming a peaceful hymn that became a stolen kingdom’s anthem, Ardyn’s hair was tied in a loose braid ending in a ribbon the trademark color of someone he hated above all else.]
[It was a bit funny how things could have the meaning one chose to assign them. A song bearing a hated name became a message of comfort. A color he despised turned into a symbol of belonging. And even that could barely touch the surface of how much had changed in so relatively short a time.]
[Sitting on the kitchen counter was a finished cake, Ardyn meticulously decorating a second with the utmost attention to detail.]
[What a stunningly surreal thing for the fabled and feared Adagium to have become.]
[And the more he let his mind linger on that matter, the more it seemed to lay itself out before him in a single straight line in a way his memories so rarely did. He swiped at his eyes with the back of a flour-dusted hand, leaving a white streak across his nose to join a couple others on his face.]
[It wasn’t until it occurred to him that he’d be able to taste it did Ardyn finally stop, leaving his work half-finished for a moment to sit down at the kitchen table. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt right now, and yet here he was—not quite laughing and not quite crying. Oh, he’d need to pull himself together; he couldn’t let anyone worry when there was nothing wrong. Especially not today.]
[Fate was what they had made it into, and everything was fine.]
[He knew perfectly well what day it was. They both had been, with smiles and sly looks and convenient excuses to not be around each other while preparations were made. Church had barely remembered that he'd chosen today as his birthday in some horrifically disgusting bout of sappiness, but it had been supported and encouraged by the man he could call husband.
What a wild fucking ride. That needed proper celebration.
And what kind of celebration would it be without gifts? Oh, sure, Ardyn's (chosen) birthday was later, and then he'd get even more gifts, but! Gifts! Now! For today! So, a couple of boxes, elegantly wrapped so definitely not wrapped by him, followed by Church himself.]
[Ardyn had, in a sense, taken it somewhat upon himself to help with the repopulation of chocobos on his own world. It wasn't much, but he seemed content with the small effort made toward a world he'd personally destroyed. Besides, it wasn't as though they could keep every chocobo. Not only did Ardyn know where a struggling chocobo ranch was, fortunately the owner seemed to have a grasp on not asking too many questions.]
[Still, Ardyn always ended up...a little quieter when they were back on Eos. Under an illusory disguise it was perhaps harder to read his expressions, but the simple fact that he wasn't talking Church's ear off as per usual was surely enough of an indicator that...perhaps he was a little bit in his own head.]
Eos wasn't, visually, different from Earth. Gently sloping hills, rocky mountains, dense forests, arid desert air, beaches, plains, paved roads. The remnants of cars scattered by said roads, abandoned in lots or...more violently seen to. Occasional buildings. Farms long since abandoned slowly being reclaimed, or whole towns with people trying to pull out the remnants of their old lives, or starting whole knew ones.
Once an armored jeep loaded up with ragged looking military-type personnel and supplies roared past and startled the hell out of him. It was so quiet. Even the animals--had all of the animals died off, too? Or the biggest, anyway, the most abundant?
Church was content to let Ardyn lead the way on Philomela, his own riding chocobo (a handsome blue tint he'd seen fit to name Mikey) hitched alongside so all he had to focus on was staying in his seat. He wasn't going to be racing the things anytime soon. The other birds calmly followed along like this was just a normal trip out to the countryside and away from busy Tokyo life.]
Hey babe. You're awful quiet today. Gil for your thoughts?
[It took long enough for Ardyn to get used to living in a human body, but he'd managed it more or less. The problem was that mortal bodies needed maintaining; specifically when it came to exercise and training.]
[Did he need to keep up with combat prowess in an age like this, of course not. But...better safe than sorry, and it would have felt wrong somehow to let his considerable skill wither and die off. So he was often found closer to the chocobo stables in a bit of open area, Rakshasa Blade in hand moving in a blur of scarlet against an invisible opponent.]
[Are you outside today, Church? Perhaps pondering the application of lights or addition of a tree? Wondering if a chocobo would willingly wear a garish sweater?]
[Look, Queenie will probably be able to enchant some knitting needles and make an ugly sweater fit for a chocobo. Whether it WOULD wear it or not is...a different question entirely yes.
Except, thwap.]
Hey!
For someone so fucking ancient, you're a kid at heart, you know that?
[Some early evening, Ardyn didn't come out of the bathroom for an oddly long while after taking a shower--a Perhaps Up To Nefarious Things oddly long while. There were still sounds from within, the occasional click or clatter of one thing or another set down or picked up from the corner of the sink or a cabinet.]
[Ardyn didn't always have a solid grasp on Earth holidays, but sometimes he caught a thing or two before the fact. And sometimes he got a little excited, coming home with a couple of boxes and a bright smile.]
Leonard, dear, do you have any pressing plans tonight requiring your attention?
Yeah, you. Why? [He pokes his head out of the kitchen, and no, he was not eating peanut butter out of the jar like an animal, why do you ask.] Ooo, presents!
[It had been a long while since all the Everything had happened, of course. Ardyn didn't have it narrowed down to a specific time given how hard it was to measure time at all, but 'a long while' sounded right. Still, in some ways it would never truly be long enough, and some days would remain a little harder than others.]
[Usually it was Thursdays, and at times like that Ardyn grew gradually more restless as afternoon ticked into evening. Going back and forth between the stables and coming back inside, wnadering with some faint sense of urgency as if he was double-checking that everything was in place and nothing unusual was going on.]
[Fine. Everything was completely fine, naturally, and if he was even aware he was doing anything unusual it hadn't quite set in just yet.]
[Church has not noticed that it's any particular day of the week, or any particular length of time. Sometimes they have weeks where everything is fine, everything is good, everything is perfect. And sometimes...
Sometimes a thought or a memory comes crawling out of the woodwork and starts flipping tables in their heads. Worms its way into prominence and overturns furniture, breaks glass, yells and screams and wrecks absolute shop, and then they have to try and put themselves and each other back together again.
He's been trying to be okay today, but such a thought has made its way to the surface to distract him. He's really been trying, because this shouldn't ruin a perfectly good day, and there's nothing to be done about it, but he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his internal upset always quickly turns into an external upset as well.
And Ardyn is...sensitive, sometimes. A lot of the time.
But whatever. It's fine. Everything is fine. And if Ardyn goes out just to come back in again one more time Church is going to fucking snap--]
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[But this was home--a nice set of apartments for the Glaive and extended family, some space for a few chocobos hidden from the general public of Akira's Tokyo with illusion magic, and most importantly somewhere safe and relatively quiet to return to with the person he loved more than anything in the multiverse.]
...I still think 'Ardyn Tenmyouji-Church' has a sort of charm to it, personally.
[And loved to annoy the hell out of.]
But then again, six syllables is enough for a sufficiently dramatic introduction.
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It's an adventure for everyone who is not Japanese, okay?]
If you're waiting for me to object to you taking my name, you're not gonna hear it. I still think you should drop Pete's name, but only because it's a really dumb name that even he admits is dumb.
Lucis Caelum-Church, though, that one doesn't have a ring to it. Church-Caelum? Meh...
You're still kind of a Church and I'm still kind of a Tokyo Mew Mew, it works out somehow.
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[Ardyn dropped down onto the couch with a laugh, tilting his head.]
I also still think 'Leonard Lucis Caelum' sounds quite nice itself.
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[That was how Ardyn came to walk back inside one early evening, feathers in his hair and a few wayward smudges of dirt on his face and hands. From king to outcast to chocobo rancher. He was pretty sure he could do worse.]
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...No.
[Church just shakes his head.] Absolutely not. You look like you were mud wrestling with your overgrown chickens. I feel like I need to take a hose to you. [No, Ardyn's not that bad. Yet. But overdramatics are in the bloodline, clearly.]
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full-ass retcons whatever
[It was all a lie. Lies he told himself, lies told to the world, all fabrications and nonsense.]
[Slowly he pressed his hands to his face, drawing a shaking breath that came out in a broken sob.]
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He reached over to rub Ardyn's back at first as he started to wake, at least until he could get himself up enough to a position to hug him instead.]
Heyyyyy, 's okay, you're here.
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[If nothing else, he was functioning and that was already a good step forward.]
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Church leaned in the doorway, one hand holding a delicious steaming mug of something, and the other held...well, something with less sugar in it but still steaming and arguably delicious.]
Do you ever pay any attention to that poor neglected bird?
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[But he woke up that morning to sunlight that didn’t burn his skin, to someone who...who surely would never have sold him out for the good of the world. Who would have told Bahamut to fuck right off, who would have held Ardyn’s life to have value enough to at least question such a thing.]
[Right?]
[Ardyn bit his lower lip hard enough to taste very human blood, getting up and going to make breakfast. Sleeping in wasn’t going to happen today.]
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On the other hand, he can smell breakfast gently wafting from the kitchen. Stress cooking? Church tucks a robe loosely around himself and pads kitchenward. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine. Ardyn is awake and alive and possibly just didn't want to bother him with another nightmare.]
Ardy?
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[It was a bit funny how things could have the meaning one chose to assign them. A song bearing a hated name became a message of comfort. A color he despised turned into a symbol of belonging. And even that could barely touch the surface of how much had changed in so relatively short a time.]
[Sitting on the kitchen counter was a finished cake, Ardyn meticulously decorating a second with the utmost attention to detail.]
[What a stunningly surreal thing for the fabled and feared Adagium to have become.]
[And the more he let his mind linger on that matter, the more it seemed to lay itself out before him in a single straight line in a way his memories so rarely did. He swiped at his eyes with the back of a flour-dusted hand, leaving a white streak across his nose to join a couple others on his face.]
[It wasn’t until it occurred to him that he’d be able to taste it did Ardyn finally stop, leaving his work half-finished for a moment to sit down at the kitchen table. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt right now, and yet here he was—not quite laughing and not quite crying. Oh, he’d need to pull himself together; he couldn’t let anyone worry when there was nothing wrong. Especially not today.]
[Fate was what they had made it into, and everything was fine.]
no subject
What a wild fucking ride. That needed proper celebration.
And what kind of celebration would it be without gifts? Oh, sure, Ardyn's (chosen) birthday was later, and then he'd get even more gifts, but! Gifts! Now! For today! So, a couple of boxes, elegantly wrapped so definitely not wrapped by him, followed by Church himself.]
Heeeeeey, babe, is it too early to--
Are you okay?
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[Still, Ardyn always ended up...a little quieter when they were back on Eos. Under an illusory disguise it was perhaps harder to read his expressions, but the simple fact that he wasn't talking Church's ear off as per usual was surely enough of an indicator that...perhaps he was a little bit in his own head.]
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Eos wasn't, visually, different from Earth. Gently sloping hills, rocky mountains, dense forests, arid desert air, beaches, plains, paved roads. The remnants of cars scattered by said roads, abandoned in lots or...more violently seen to. Occasional buildings. Farms long since abandoned slowly being reclaimed, or whole towns with people trying to pull out the remnants of their old lives, or starting whole knew ones.
Once an armored jeep loaded up with ragged looking military-type personnel and supplies roared past and startled the hell out of him. It was so quiet. Even the animals--had all of the animals died off, too? Or the biggest, anyway, the most abundant?
Church was content to let Ardyn lead the way on Philomela, his own riding chocobo (a handsome blue tint he'd seen fit to name Mikey) hitched alongside so all he had to focus on was staying in his seat. He wasn't going to be racing the things anytime soon. The other birds calmly followed along like this was just a normal trip out to the countryside and away from busy Tokyo life.]
Hey babe. You're awful quiet today. Gil for your thoughts?
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[Did he need to keep up with combat prowess in an age like this, of course not. But...better safe than sorry, and it would have felt wrong somehow to let his considerable skill wither and die off. So he was often found closer to the chocobo stables in a bit of open area, Rakshasa Blade in hand moving in a blur of scarlet against an invisible opponent.]
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[Hi, husband.]
Or were you just gonna warm up your creaky old man joints first?
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fuck it yolo
[Look out, because a snowball's coming for you.]
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Except, thwap.]
Hey!
For someone so fucking ancient, you're a kid at heart, you know that?
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[The door, however, was left slightly open.]
[Investigate y/n?]
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Door's open enough, he's not gonna knock or anything. Pad over and nudge it open further.]
I'm at that point where I really want to know but am too afraid to ask. [whatcha doin buddy]
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Leonard, dear, do you have any pressing plans tonight requiring your attention?
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[Usually it was Thursdays, and at times like that Ardyn grew gradually more restless as afternoon ticked into evening. Going back and forth between the stables and coming back inside, wnadering with some faint sense of urgency as if he was double-checking that everything was in place and nothing unusual was going on.]
[Fine. Everything was completely fine, naturally, and if he was even aware he was doing anything unusual it hadn't quite set in just yet.]
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Sometimes a thought or a memory comes crawling out of the woodwork and starts flipping tables in their heads. Worms its way into prominence and overturns furniture, breaks glass, yells and screams and wrecks absolute shop, and then they have to try and put themselves and each other back together again.
He's been trying to be okay today, but such a thought has made its way to the surface to distract him. He's really been trying, because this shouldn't ruin a perfectly good day, and there's nothing to be done about it, but he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his internal upset always quickly turns into an external upset as well.
And Ardyn is...sensitive, sometimes. A lot of the time.
But whatever. It's fine. Everything is fine. And if Ardyn goes out just to come back in again one more time Church is going to fucking snap--]
Do you want to go?
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