The world narrowed, all sensory input and processing power funneling toward the mountain of a man framed in the doorway. Noctar's gaze was a laser lock, his mind running silent, frantic threat assessments that all returned the same screaming result in bold red text: S-RANK. CLASS: FORTRESS. LETHALITY: CERTAIN. PATERNAL INSTINCT MODIFIER: MAXIMUM. THREAT PROFILE: EXISTENTIAL.
He didn't blink. To blink would be to concede a micron of ground.
A soft rustle of fabric came from his immediate left. Ardyn stirred, her instincts as a top-tier warrior pulling her from the depths of sleep the instant she subconsciously registered the tectonic shift in the room's atmosphere, the coiled, electric tension radiating from Noctar's still form.
Her eyes fluttered open, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and for a beautiful, fleeting moment, the intimidating presence at the door didn't exist. Her entire universe had collapsed to the man in the hospital bed.
"You're awake," she breathed, her voice husky with the gravel of sleep and recent trauma. Her hands calloused from the grip of a sword, yet infinitely gentle were on him immediately. One checked the IV line taped to his forearm, the other rested on his shoulder, her thumb unconsciously stroking the thin hospital linen.
Her golden eyes, still soft with sleep, scanned his face, searching for any hidden winces, any signs of pain he might be suppressing. The legendary Rose Knight, the slayer of horrors, was utterly gone, replaced by a look of pure, unguarded relief that stole the air from Noctar's lungs.
Noctar's stern, defensive expression melted like ice under a sudden sun. He gave her a small, genuine smile, one that crinkled the corners of his ice-blue eyes and transformed his entire face. He reached up, his movements slow but sure, and his fingers the same ones that had just hours or maybe a day ago written commands to shatter reality gently brushed the edge of the white bandage on her cheek.
The gesture was infinitely soft, a silent question.
Ardyn's cheeks, beneath the bandage and a light dusting of soot that hadn't been fully washed away, flushed a delicate pink. She opened her mouth, likely to unleash the torrent of practical, urgent questions swirling in her tactical mind,
Garner Vale cleared his throat.
The effect was instantaneous and profound. Ardyn flinched as if struck by a non-lethal stun spell. Her head whipped around so fast her silver hair fanned out. Her posture underwent a metamorphosis in the blink of an eye, shifting from a concerned woman at a bedside to a teenager who'd just been caught sneaking in through the window after curfew.
The formidable, A Rank aura she naturally carried was snuffed out, folded away under a palpable layer of chagrin. The Knight was utterly gone.
"G-Garner," she said, her voice suddenly small, losing its usual confident timbre.
She slid off the chair, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy, and went to him. Wrapping her arms around his massive torso, she buried her face briefly against his chest. He returned the hug with one powerful, encompassing arm that seemed to swallow her whole. The visual contrast was startling the living, breathing siege engine and the silver haired warrior he clearly, irrevocably, still saw as his little girl.
Noctar's analytical mind, ever the detached observer, latched onto the specific syntax. Garner. Not 'Father.' Not 'Dad.' A crucial data point filed away:
"I'm fine. Really. He… helped," Ardyn said, pulling back and gesturing weakly toward Noctar, as if presenting a complicated piece of evidence.
Garner's weathered eyes, which had momentarily softened into something resembling worn leather when looking at his daughter, hardened back into unyielding sea cliffs as they fixed on Noctar. The glare was a physical pressure, a weight meant to intimidate, to make lesser men stammer apologies and stare at their shoes.
Noctar simply met it. He pushed himself up against the pillows, ignoring the symphony of protests from his battered muscles and the sharp pull of his minor stitches, until he was sitting fully upright. His back was straight, his shoulders squared against the thin hospital gown. He wasn't a boy being scolded; he was one sovereign power acknowledging the presence of another on a contested border.
He extended his hand across the sterile white expanse of the hospital bed, his gaze steady, unwavering.
"Noctar Ville," he said, his tone neutral, respectful, but utterly devoid of fear or sycophancy.
In the privacy of his mind, S.A.R.A. was practically vibrating with gleeful, horrified excitement.
// This is it! The apex moment! The territorial challenge! The non-verbal dominance negotiation! My social subroutines are overclocking! Biometric scan indicates his grip strength could pulverize small gemstones. Do not, under any circumstances, flinch, boss! Maintain eye contact! This is the code review from hell!
Garner's eyes, those ancient, assessing grey eyes flickered down to the offered hand, then back up to Noctar's face. The silence he let stretch was a tool, thick enough to choke on, heavy with the dust of fallen heroes who had failed simpler tests. It was an examination of patience, of resolve, of the quality of one's soul under pressure.
Finally, with a motion that was slow, deliberate, and carried the gravity of a portcullis being raised, Garner Vale reached out. His hand engulfed Noctar's, not with a showy, crushing force, but with an absolute, immovable grip. The kind of grip that could halt a charging dungeon boss dead in its tracks, that could hold a failing bulwark together through sheer will.
"Garner Vale," he replied, his voice the low rumble of distant thunder. "Ardyn's guardian."
The handshake held for a second longer than was socially comfortable, a silent, direct cable between them transmitting a compressed data packet of meaning.
, Garner's ironclad gaze said.
She is the ground we both stand on.>