Sleepover

Ardyn was lazing on one of the beds of the caravan that he was sharing with the king’s party for the night.

They would be heading out to the disc tomorrow, but now it was time to rest.

Or so Ardyn thought.

Others’ opinions seemed to differ.

He had just gotten comfortable, arms crossed behind his head, and his hat drawn down into his face, seconds away from sleep, when he felt the distinct prickling sensation of someone staring at him creep under his skin.

Ardyn opened his eyes and turned his head to meet the glares of the king’s advisor, and shield.
He didn’t let himself be bothered too much by it. Honestly why should he? There wasn’t much harm these two men could actually inflict on him. None of it permanent.

He tipped his hat back up, and his face slipped into a practiced sleazy grin. “Hello, gentlemen. Can I help you with something?”

A narrowing of eyes and a scoff were all the answer they gave him.

“Ah, well.” He sat up with a display of more vigor than he actually felt, and turned towards them in one fluid motion. “I see you cannot find sleep either?”

Really he was bone-tired.

Immortality didn’t protect from most of the usual problems of having a body, like needing sleep and food. Sure, he could survive without, but it wouldn’t be much of a life. And not even just because he’d be missing out on the decadence of it all. But rather because as he ran out of energy he’d start hallucinating and eventually he wouldn’t have the strength to move anymore. He knew this from experience.

But sleeping didn’t seem to be much of an option now.

The chosen king’s companions seemed to be convinced that Ardyn would try to pull something on them.

And he couldn’t really blame them, even though he had not yet given them any reason whatsoever not to trust him.

They had good instincts.

“You really should try to sleep. After all you will be facing one of the Astrals tomorrow. You will be in need of all your strength.”

“I don’t think so,” the king’s shield growled.

Ardyn held up his hands in surrender. “Suit yourselves.”

He lazily dragged his eyes across the room until they landed on a set of playing cards, alone and forgotten out on a table. Ardyn hadn’t hadn’t noticed anyone put it there. They certainly hadn’t used it this evening.

He picked up the deck and started shuffling, using all the little tricks and flourishes he’d studied to giving the simple process more flair than it truly deserved. (He had of course learned those tricks for situations exactly like this one.)

“Care for a game?”

“We don’t much care for you.” The shield again.

Ardyn kept on shuffling the cards, putting on a smile that he knew made him look like an elusive bastard. It always put that look in people’s eyes like they wanted to shut him up for good. This time was no different. “That’s not very polite, but I will find it in myself to forgive you.”

He pulled the small table up to stand between himself and the king’s retainers, and started dealing out cards between the three of them. “So. I do hope you are familiar with the rules of rummy?”
He picked up his own hand of cards and started sorting them, leaning back against the wall and crossing an ankle over his knee.

The retainers didn’t move other than to give each other a look that was indecipherable to Ardyn but must have meant something to them, before both their gazes snapped back to him, not keeping him out of their sight for more than a second.

Fine by him if they wanted to be like that.

He could keep this up all night. (Even though he really didn’t want to.)

“If we are to be awake all night, we might as well do something.” At their lack of reaction, he added: “Something other than stare in silence, that is. And look on the bright side! We go in turns so at least one of you can continue to give me the evil eye at all times.”

Another glance shared between the two, the fraction of a second, before their eyes were back on him.

The advisor sighed and picked up his cards.

Seemed like he finally saw that there was no evil Ardyn would commit while playing cards that he wouldn’t commit if they weren’t playing. (Other than cheat maybe. If Ardyn were a cheater.)

The shield took another second, not bothering to hide his glare, before he followed suit, arranging the cards in his hands.

 


 

They all started dozing off eventually.

Not really sleeping.

It was hard to tell who went first.

Ardyn was aware enough to notice both men taking turns startling themselves awake and pinning him with a glare, before slipping back under.

They kept going like that for what must have been an hour before the third companion awoke, the king himself still sleeping blissfully and for all intents and purposes dead to the world.

Prompto must have been a morning person, because he was sitting up less than five minutes after he first started stirring, and when he saw the group sitting at the table, his eyes widened and he stumbled over. Maybe not that awake yet after all.

“What?” he asked, looking around between the three of them. “Have you been playing cards all night?”

The advisor’s head snapped up with a sharp intake of breath, probably for the fiftieth time this night, and he fixed his pointed gaze on Ardyn, trying and failing to play it off like he hadn’t been seconds from sleep for the last hour. “Yes,” he addressed Prompto, and looked down at the hand of cards that he miraculously hadn’t dropped yet.

“We started with rummy. When that got too hard, we moved on to uno. And I believe we ended on go fish,” Ardyn helpfully supplied, while wrestling with gravity, which was trying to drag him down.

“O… kay. Sure...” Prompto’s voice made it sound like he very much did not think that was okay, actually. “Hang on. We don’t have any uno cards.”

“Gotta make do,” the shield mumbled into his hand, before his head dropped down to his bare chest, and he finally gave up the fight against sleep.

The advisor seemed a bit more determined. He was swaying, from what could only be drowsiness, but between sharp breaths and abrupt movements he kept himself awake.

Prompto gave all three of them a concerned once-over, eyes quickly sliding past Ardyn and lingering on the advisor. “You need to sleep.”

The advisor got up in over-exaggerated movements that Ardyn was willing to bet were designed to keep him awake. “That won’t be necessary.” He leveled Ardyn with the same glare he’d been giving him all night. “We need to be heading out soon.”

“Indeed.” Ardyn pulled himself up from the bed, feeling the lack of sleep in his entire body. “Time to wake the king.”

He didn’t envy them the fatigue they’d be carrying with them the entire day. (Because he was already anticipating the same for himself for one.) But, he thought to himself, at least he’d had the common sense not to go face a god after pulling an all-nighter.

 


 

When the king finally woke up, after some poking and prodding, he took in the haggard appearance and bone deep exhaustion of the three night owls (although he was of course not all that concerned for one of them in particular), and it was decided that they’d push their departure for the disc back by a day.

The king’s retinue camped at a haven the next night, and, Ardyn could only assume, did some catching up on the sleep they’d missed.

He himself certainly did.

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