The Path To Freedom by theAdventurer0815

Words: 146k+

Link:-https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14125290/1/

( This is a series of loosely connected scenes set in an AU in which Ardyn joins Noctis and Co on their way to Altissia in order to screw with Bahamut's plan and take on the astral together. Centered around a "chaotic good and/or neutral" kind of Ardyn, but mostly told from Noctis' POV. )

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Rescue

Author's note:

This is an Ardyn-centric AU told in loosely connected chapters. It was inspired mainly by two fics from AO3; one called "try to see the glass as half full", which is a single scene from an Good!Ardyn kind of AU that I really like, and the other is a one-chapter fic called "Assigned Seating" that pitches forth the idea of Ardyn accompanying the boys from the very start of FFXV as part of the peace treaty.

My version diverges from canon at the "Resist Your Fate" ending of Episode Ardyn, in such a way that Ardyn does not plan to overpower Noctis, but to find a(nother) way past Bahamut to kill Regis and/or Noctis early. Because invading Insomnia has been so easy, he tries again and again, which forces Bahamut to intervene every time, and as a result, Ardyn's hate shifts from his brother's bloodline towards the Astral who keeps denying him his revenge and reminding him of this part he is to play in the grand scheme of things.

Here is a list of things you can expect in this fanfic, so you know what you are getting into:

chaotic good and/or neutral Ardyn Izunia | Noctis' POV (mostly) | but the whole gang is there | Bahamut bashing | canon divergence | fix-it of sorts | there's probably some swearing and depictions of violence in it, but nothing graphic | no explicit pairings but hinted Luna/Noct | contains a decent dash of humor | as well as hurt/comfort | OC appearance in later chapters | also: send help! this thing grew out of control

Enjoy.

An Unexpected Rescue

M.E. 744 – Fenestala Manor, Tenebrae

Noctis did not understand.

In one moment, he and his father had been talking to Luna, her brother Ravus and their mother Sylvia in the blooming gardens of Fenestala Manor, and in the next, metal men dropped out of the sky and roaring flames erupted around them. Regis hastily lifted his eight-year-old son out of the wheelchair, took Luna by the hand and fled with them towards the open door of the manor.

Noctis held fast on to his father, not knowing, but feeling, the mortal danger they were in. The terrified scream of Luna's usually so steadfast brother let the blood in Noctis' veins run cold. Icy claws dug deep into his heart. Fear subdued all conscious thought. Frozen in shock, he could only cling to his father with all the strength his injured body could muster, and hope that Regis would save them somehow.

They had not yet reached the manor when Luna suddenly let go of his father's hand. Past Regis' shoulder, Noctis watched helplessly as she stopped running and fell behind. With eyes full of regret, Luna just stared back at him. Upon noticing her disappearance, Regis briefly turned around, but ultimately kept on running.

Metal soldiers of the Imperial army, armed with rifles, ragged blades and axes, emerged from the smoke and flames that rapidly consumed the garden. They ran straight past Luna. One bumped into her by accident, but they were clearly only interested in chasing after the King and his son. All too quickly, the twelve-year-old girl disappeared among the growing number of infantrymen.

Fear and confusion overwhelmed Noctis. His body cramped up. He pressed his head into Regis' suit until he could see no more, only hear his father's strained breath, his footsteps echoing through the hallways of the manor and the terrifying rattle of metal armour behind them. An explosion in the distance shook the building. Regis rounded a corner and slowed his steps. He turned both ways, seemingly looking for an escape route, but the sounds of the soldiers were rapidly growing louder. Instead of fleeing, Regis sat Noctis down on the floor, yet his son's hands were still clutching his clothes. Noctis did not dare to open his eyes.

"I have to fight off our pursuers," Regis said, sounding firm and collected. "Please, Noctis. I cannot carry you and fight at the same time. It will only take a moment, I promise."

Carefully, but determined, Regis pried Noctis' hands open. When Noctis risked a glance into his father's face, he saw concern in Regis' eyes. Their lives depended on his ability to fight. Even so, Noctis was afraid to be left alone on the floor, helpless and vulnerable as he was. Despite of the healing sessions with Luna's mother, he had not yet recovered enough from his injury to walk again on his own. He reached out for his father as Regis turned back to face the Imperial soldiers. In a flash of magic, a silver sword appeared in Regis' hand.

Noctis' attempt to stand up was thwarted by his back injury. Pain shot through his body and his legs gave way. Wincing, he slumped back to the floor. Tears rose to his eyes. Through his watery view, he watched his father fell one of their pursuers after another with swift and precise strikes of his blade. Inwardly, Noctis prayed and hoped that they would make it out of the manor alive.

Another crash from outside, and another tremor ran through the building. The thunderous rumble that followed forced to Noctis look up. Cracks formed in the ceiling above him.

Without further warning, stones came loose.

Overcome by panic, Noctis screamed for his father. He desperately tried to crawl away. In a last and rather hopeless attempt to protect himself, Noctis threw his arms over his head. The crashing and rumbling of the stones around him was deafening. The dust that filled the air stung in his lungs and eyes, making him cough. Once the noise subsided, it took Noctis several seconds to regain his bearings. Fortunately, the collapsed ceiling had missed him, but a mountain of rubble separated him from his father.

"Noctis!" Regis' shout barely reached through the debris. "Noct, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"Dad!" Noctis called back, but ended up breathing in more dust, which triggered another coughing fit.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming to you!"

His father's hasty footsteps quickly moved away, leaving behind an eerie silence, save for the sounds of Noctis' own, ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of his heart. With difficulty, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and slowly crawled away from the pile of rubble.

At the end of the corridor, behind the dust that hung in the air like a veil, the silhouette of a man holding a sword appeared. Noctis' breath hitched. His muscles tensed. Panic clutched his heart once more. This man could not be his father. Regis could not have been that fast.

The sword in the stranger's hand vanished with a red flash. "Silly old me," an unfamiliar voice rang out, "I must have mistaken you for one of those dreadful soldiers."

The dust settled slowly. As the man walked up to him, Noctis tried hard to figure out which nation he hailed from. He did not look like an Imperial commander, not like a servant to House Fleuret, and not like a member of the Royal Crownsguard in service to Regis, either. Noctis eyed the stranger warily, uncertain of whether he was facing a foe or a friend, though he was hoping for the latter. The stranger looked … eccentric. Noctis did not know exactly what the word meant, but he was sure his father would have used it to describe the man's clothes. The stranger was wearing a dark grey, ankle-length coat, a white shirt, a dark vest and pin-striped trousers. A grey scarf was slung around his shoulders, a bold red neckerchief wrapped around his neck, and a black hat sat slightly askew on his head. All in all; too many clothes for an ordinary person.

"Who … Who are you?" Noctis coughed out.

"Just a man desperately trying to make a change," the stranger replied with a smug smile.

The man stepped even closer, and Noctis struggled to stand again. Just as before, he fell back to the ground in pain. The stranger sank to a knee in front of him. His peculiarly bright eyes appeared kind, but equally tired. Noctis saw the same tiredness in the eyes of his father, not daily, but increasingly often.

"Now, now. Don't be afraid. It would not behove me to leave the Prince of Lucis lying amidst all this rubble, would it? Here, allow me to reunite you with your dear father. The poor man must be worried sick." Without hesitation, he lifted Noctis into his arms and stood up.

Although he provoked the wound on Noctis' back by accident, Noctis grit his teeth and did not resist. Being carried was still better than not being able to move at all, and he sensed no hostility from the stranger.

"How light you are!" The man chuckled. "What do they feed you at the Citadel?"

Noctis did not feel like talking. Especially not about home. Nothing seemed more distant than home at that moment, without his father, without Iggy, even without Luna. Why did she choose to stay behind? Why did she not come with them? What would the Empire do with her? Tears came to his eyes again and Noctis clutched the stranger's scarf. There was something comforting about the many layers of clothing he wore.

„Well then. There ought to be a corridor just like this one on the other side of the building. I may assume that His Majesty is heading there this very instant." With Noctis in his arms, the stranger walked out of the corridor and deeper into the manor. He moved in long, swaying strides, very leisurely, and quite unlike Regis. At least, he seemed to know where he was going.

Noctis wiped a tear from his eye and looked around. It was still unusually quiet around them. His fear slowly subsided – until the terrifying rattle of metal armour resounded through the hall they were crossing. The stranger turned towards the source of the sound and Noctis saw three axemen running towards them.

"Look, I do not mind the escort, but why do you …?"

Noctis' fingers tightened around the man's scarf. "Don't leave me behind," he pleaded.

The stranger glanced at him. "Oh, but of course. They are after you."

The nearest of the axemen lunged at them with his weapon raised, but Noctis' self-appointed saviour caught the metal soldier mid-air with a kick and sent it clattering to the ground.

"Hold on tight!" He pressed Noctis to his chest and dodged another infantryman's blow with a gallant twist.

In the midst of battle, Noctis caught a glimpse of some kind of dark shockwave shooting out from the stranger's hand. A fraction of a second later, their pursuers fell to the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut. Baffled, Noctis stared at the motionless metal men. "How …?" was all he managed to say.

"You'll find that your father is not the only one who wields magic."

"You have magic?"

The stranger looked at Noctis with a smug expression. "Mere parlour tricks compared to what your father can do, of course. Now then, let's not dawdle any longer, shall we?"

He finally approached the passageway in the back of the hall that led into the parallel corridor. The clacking of heels on marble, not the rattle of metal boots, grew quickly closer. Another human being approached them.

Noctis' rescuer stopped abruptly. A strange flicker surrounded him for a second, before he strode purposefully around the corner into the corridor.

King Regis came running towards them. The worry etched into his features gave way to pure relief as his eyes fell on his son.

"Dad!" Noctis shouted.

"Noctis!" Regis hurried to take his son from the stranger's arms. "Forgive me. I should have never let you go." For a moment, he held Noctis in a tight embrace and touched his forehead with his own. With a sigh of great relief, he turned to his son's saviour. "You have my sincerest thanks. If you will tell me your name, then I …"

His voice trailed off, and when Noctis turned his head, the man who had saved him had disappeared as if he had been nothing but a phantom within a daydream.