#noct in the sky using the armiger and he and ignis stare at each other and nod and then noct sprints and catches the notebook from luna | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thedarkrose17 · 3 years

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Landing in a strange world was weirdly normal at this point for Noctis. But landing in a strange world with one of his friends not so much.

Prompto looks at the Regalia and sighs.

"You think there's a gas station around here?"

Noctis shrugs, leaning against the car.

"Where even is here?"

Prompto swallows and looks around for any signs with text on, hoping to get a hint. Nothing.

He checks his phone. No signal. Weird. It looks like nowhere on Eos he's seen before.

"No signal." Prompto looks at Noctis and sighs. "Any bars for you?"

Noctis grabs his phone and checks. "Nothing."

"Shit." Prompto groans.

He feels his anxiety easing as he hears footsteps approaching. A person! Finally!

They could figure out where they were, get the Regalia in a garage and maybe call Cindy to get her to tow them back to Hammerhead.

Prompto takes a deep breath and turns to face the stranger, a greeting on his lips. It dies the moment he sees said stranger.

The stranger looked human-like but not fully. Black cat ears sat on top of black and grey hair with an orange lily in it, a tail flicked to the side. His eyes were normal minus the glowing yellow hue.

The stranger had a weird get up, black almost robe-like open top, black pants and boots and two circular shiny things on each of his sides, strapped down.

"Um." Prompto blinks. That was straight up a cat man. "...Do you know where we can find a garage?"

Noctis stood up and looked at the stranger. Said stranger looked flustered as he looked between Noctis and Prompto. Was he turning red?

"Um...To fix the Regalia." Noctis adds, gesturing to the car.

"Oh...the vehicle! Cid can help. He's the expert. Can't say he's ever seen something like this though. Hells I haven't." the cat stranger says. He has fangs. Actual cat fangs.

"Cid?!" Noctis shares a look with Prompto as Prompto utters: "Is Cindy here too?!"

The stranger watched them in complete confusion. His face screamed who's that?

"Who are you?" Noctis asks.

"Solis. Solis Octavia" the cat man introduces himself. He bows, it feels so formal. He looks embarrassed almost when he notices the boys didn't return the gesture, his ears droop down and his tail curls around his waist.

Prompto and Noctis couldn't help but stare. This was just a cat that could talk. A disaster of one at that.

"Solis huh? I'm Noctis. You can call me Noct." Noctis rested a hand on his hip, using his free hand gesture to Prompto with his thumb. "That's Prompto."

"Hey." Prompto offered an awkward smile. "So um where are we?"

"Eorzea. In Thanalan." Solis replies.

The boys blinked and shared a look.

"I've never seen that on a map of Eos." Noctis muttered while Prompto looked close to a panic attack. Where the hell were they? "Can you help us push the car?"

Solis nodded and the three pushed the car until they reached Cid. To the boys' surprise it wasn't their Cid but another one called Cid Garlond.

Through him they learned they were in another world while his crew seemed to marvel at the Regalia. Cid promised he'd try to fix her.

* * *

Prompto and Noctis headed off with Solis to find out more information while they waited.

Sadly they didn't learn how to get back home but they learned something concerning.

"There's been metal men around. There's reports of people saying they're Garlean made." Solis says.

Prompto frowns and speaks up before Noctis has a chance to.

"MTs?"

"Did they follow us?" Noctis asks.

"Em-Tees?" Solis asks in confusion.

"They're magitek soldiers. Robots. Made of metal by the Niflheim empire. No one's inside them."

Prompto swallows and nods.

"They sound like they scream when they go down. Super creepy."

Solis' body stiffens. His tail swishing side to side, eyes wide.

Noctis had been around enough cats to know that was a sign of an afraid one. He resisted every urge to reach out and pet the cat man who was the exact same height as Prompto. It seemed weird.

"We'll take them out. They're easy." Noctis says, offering a smile.

Solis blinks and nods. He punches his fist into his hand and grins, showing off his fangs.

"They don't stand a chance."

* * *

The Regalia's gone by the time they get back. Hidden from the prying eyes of a cat woman reporter trying to get a scoop.

Unfortunately for the boys, she tracks them down and offers to give them more information to all their questions for a price. An interview with Prompto and Noctis.

So Noctis somewhat reluctantly agrees.

* * *

Noctis and Prompto come out of their interview with her and head over to Solis.

"So...How was it?" Solis asks.

"It wasn't an interview." Noctis sighs.

"It was an interrogation." Prompto mutters.

Solis snorts.

"It can't have been that bad."

"Trust me dude. It was." Prompto sighs dramatically.

* * *

True to her word, the reporter gives them more information, sending the trio to Gridania to talk to her sources about MTs.

After talking to said sources, Solis tells the reporter about a person seeing mts near Bramble Patch in the east shroud.

Prompto and Noctis listen completely lost on the places but it eventually doesn't stop the pair bolting off before Solis has finished speaking.

He sighs and chases after them, catching up with them in the east shroud. It's dark and dangerous, granted it's also dangerous in the day for anyone clueless about their surroundings or inexperienced.

He pants and is ready to warn them about running off until a creature growls in the darkness and stops him.

"Holy shit! A daemon!" Prompto yells.

Solis takes the circular things from his sides. While he's never fought this thing he's fought things similar.

"Let's go fellas." Noctis smirks, leading the charge.

Prompto hums and summons his gun, he fires off a starshell bullet, lighting up the area as Noctis warp strikes.

He rushes around firing as Noctis attacks. Almost stopping as he glances at Solis attacking.

The cat twirls and spins, colours coming off him as he throws the circular thingies around and at the enemy. He should really ask what those are called.

"Prompto!"

Prompto blinks and looks at Noctis who grins and throws him his sword, Prompto catches it with ease and throws his gun to Noctis.

The pair attack and finally finish off the daemon.

They bump forearms together and Prompto does his cute little victory cheer that Noctis adores but refuses to admit.

"...What's with the weapon change?" Solis asks.

"Link strike." Noctis replies. "We have a few."

Prompto nods and puts the sword back in the armiger, Noctis doing the same with his gun.

A stomach growls and the duo turn to their cat man teammate.

"...All that fighting made me hungry." Solis says, looking embarrassed. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

Noctis' stomach growls next, followed by Prompto's.

"Same here dude." Prompto mutters.

"Lets go set up camp." Noctis suggests.

"For once you're actually down for it. Ah, if only Gladio could see you now." Prompto jokes, gently elbowing him.

"...Sometimes it's not all bad." Noctis quietly admits.

* * *

They set up camp on higher grounds away from hostile creatures.

Noctis makes onigiri that would probably impress Ignis while Prompto makes and hands out coffee.

He sits next to Solis with a quiet oof before speaking up.

"I've been meaning to ask you dude...What's those circular thingies on your waist." Prompto asks.

"Chakrams. Blades are on them. They're what we dancers use."

"Dancers with weapons?! Dude, that's sick!" Prompto grins. "It was super cool seeing you spin around and all these colours come off you as you throw them."

Noctis heads over and sits next to Prompto. He offers the blonde a smile as he hands out the onigiri to the other two boys.

"Dude! He's a dancer with cool bladed circles!" Prompto excitedly repeats to Noctis.

Noctis can't help but smile.

"Is he now?"

He goes quiet for a moment before offering his thanks to Solis.

"What for? All I did was stop you two from becoming lost." Solis smirks. He laughs a little when Noctis calls him a smartass.

"No I mean you probably have shit to do yet you're helping us."

"It's nothing."

"Don't you have a life?" Prompto asks before covering his mouth. "Fuck! S-Sorry that came out wrong."

Solis offers them a warm smile and fiddles with a ring on his hand with a gem in.

"Is that-" Noctis gets cut off.

"An eternity ring." Solis answers, a blush dusts his cheeks as he says it and a fond smile crosses his lips.

"You're engaged?!" Prompto asks.

"Married actually."

"Won't your wife be worried about you?" Prompto asks.

"Husband. He's an adventure too."

The boys glance at each other. Maybe there's hope for them. Granted neither knows the other's feelings or even has the balls to confess yet.

"I get the feeling maybe there's some unsaid feelings between you too." Solis says, resting a hand on his jaw. He smirks. "Cute."

Noctis and Prompto turn scarlet. Prompto stutters gibberish while Noctis tries and fails to deny it.

Solis laughs, his fangs are more visible when he does so.

"Whatever it is..I hope you two can figure it out."

"....Sooo…" Noctis speaks up, changing the subject. "What's your husband like?"

Solis beams and rambles about his husband, a tall viera (bunny person as the boys come to learn) with green hair and heterochromia.

Seeing him light up like that makes Noctis wish that one day he could gush about Prompto like this to anyone who'd listen.

The man sounds completely smitten and honestly Noctis wants that freedom too.

He flops back in his chair, looking up at the sky sadly. Maybe if they can get home, somehow he'll confess.

Prompto places a hand on his arm and offers a weak smile.

"We'll find a way home. You always have."

Hearing that makes Noctis smile. Prompto has a point, he always does end up back home.

* * *

"It's good we took care of the daemon but there weren't any clues this time either." Noctis sighs.

Prompto puts an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll find something. We have to."

Solis joins them moments later.

"I told the reporter about what happened. She's hunting for more leads so we'll have to sit tight for a while."

"...I'd rather go for a walk. Take in the sights."

"Me too." Prompto moves his arm from around Noctis. "We won't leave the city. Promise."

"Ok just don't-"

They head off before Solis finishes.

"...Run off," he sighs.

* * *

He finds them at a stall, the lady behind offering them glamours for free to change their clothes.

Prompto tries one and horns appear on his forehead and a spiky tail appears from his lower back. The cropped top and tattered pants with open toed shoes are a surprise for the blonde. He's yet to notice the horns or tail.

Huge surprise for Noctis judging by how red his face has turned. He can't seem to speak let alone stop staring at the blonde.

"Um...W-What is this?"

"Au ra starting gear sir. Would you like to try another?" the lady behind the stall says.

Prompto nods awkwardly and takes another, using it. He looks human to his relief, the only change is his outfit. A white and black shirt with a deep v, white pants and thigh high boots.

Noctis still seems flustered by that as he takes a miqo glamour and uses it, turning into a cat person. Prompto squeaks in surprise, he blushes muttering Noctis looks cute making Noctis choke out a "W-What?!" flustering Prompto more.

Solis looks at the pair and sighs. Truly they're hopeless. Even more so as they awkwardly get two more glamours for their friends.

He's barely known them for a day and yet he can see their pining. And here he thought he was a disaster.

"When's the wedding?!" he yells, teasing. He might cackle when he notices the boys turn a deeper red.

"Fuck you that's when!" Noctis yells back, flipping him off. There's no malice, just a flustered prince and his best friend internally dying next to him.

Solis can't help but laugh more.

#darkrose17 writing #darkrose17 writes #I spent a couple of days on this no lie I dunno why #for some reason the event made me wanna write something with it #also it's a nice event I nearly cried a few times first play of it and also at the ki///ngsgla///ive ti///tle I gained #my brain just went what if Prom was there and I also made mutually pining Promptis #featuring my disaster w///o///l S///ol #he teases knowing full well he'd be the exact same if not worse than them cause he's a clown truly

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Okay but how does Regis' dinner with his Demon King not-so go???? U can't just LEAVE that there, do Chocobros 1.0 get an explanation? Does tiny!Cor attack Noct and get gently put down by the the Dark Retinue and just, instantly idolize these SERIOUSLY OP but also v tired warriors?

XDD Well technically I COULD but I won’t. FICLET TIME.

The Chocobros 1.0 do NOT get an explanation (not a full one anyway) because nobody is up to explain the whole “your kids from another dimension that died and woke up here and accidentally usurped a kingdom with the crash landing”.

Instead, after the Night King blandly warns that any attacks on his person will end badly, so please don’t, and please don’t attack the servants either they’re just doing their jobs, he waves a hand and the daemons release Regis and Co. Very slowly, warily, they stand up and rub feeling back into their limbs. Their weapons were taken away, and in this AU while Regis and co have Elemancy and other fancy magic, they DON’T have Armiger (it’s a lost art in this world, so Regis would have to be taught how to access it) so they can’t just yank more out of thin air as they assess their situation (heart of enemy territory, at the feet of the Immortal Accursed who is acting surprisingly nice but has been terrorizing their kingdom off and on for literal centuries). Regis opens his mouth to maybe cautiously ask a question when Cor shakes out the last kinks in his back-.

Then dives for the Night King with bare hands sparking with lightning.

Regis doesn’t get time to tell Cor to stop and the Accursed doesn’t even blink or startle. He doesn’t even move because he doesn’t have to.

The board-shouldered man with Amicitia gold eyes and two scars on his face stops Cor in his tracks. Regis isn’t even sure where the man came from, he moved so fast. He was just there, casually deflecting Cor’s attack without flinching from the lightning, then catching Cor’s follow-up attack with an almost lazy gesture.

Cor winds up winded on the floor at the man’s feet. The man in question rumbles a laugh while letting a frantic Weskham and cursing Cid drag Cor back into their group by his ankles, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

“I’m sorry for him,” Regis manages past the vice in his throat, because Regis can see the Night King watching Cor with a contemplative expression he can’t understand (why is the Accursed looking at Cor like that, with an expression that could ALMOST be called fond-), “He’s young.”

“I remember,” the Accursed says, but does not elaborate on what he remembers (being that young? Others who were like Cor? Information his spies brought him on Cor?) The king shakes his head and looks over at the shadows, “Prompto.”

Yet another human slides out of the shadows, this one as clearly of Niflheim descent as the grinning bear of a man is of Amicitia blood (and Regis can feel Clarus trembling at that, is trying not to think of it himself, because that paired with the Night King’s black hair and blue-blue eyes....). The newcomer smiles like the sun, a shockingly genuine expression in a place like this, “Lemme guess, guest duty?”

The Night King’s expression shifts from mild and unreadable for the first time, a delicate half-smile sliding onto his face that makes him seem unnervingly ... human, “Iggy should be finished soon, just ... escort them to the dining room. Maybe a tour.”

The blond man (Prompto? Is that his name?) laughs, calm and easy, and gestures for Regis and his Retinue to follow him, “Sure thing, Your Majesty. Come on intruder-guests, His Royal Highness needs to finish business in here without gawkers.”

Numb and confused, even Cor meekly follows the man out past the daemons and into the strange, endlessly tall building that served as the Night King’s home (hard to call it a castle with no ramparts or walls, just a tower as large as a small village that reached-reached-reached for the sky, the methods to build it lost centuries ago). The man (Prompto, he introduces himself as) leads them down halls lit by ghostly blue lights where torches should be, past daemons dressed like servants, who bow deeply to their guide as they pass and make no move to attack. Along the way, the man chatters amiably, pointing out meaningless trivia that would do nothing to help should they try to escape but was almost amusing were it not for the circumstances.

At one point, Cor lunges for Prompto’s back before Regis can stop him (Cid curses as the boy worms out of Cid’s grip unexpectedly, he’s getting better at escaping each time they try to stop him from getting into trouble). Cor snatches a decorative but razor sharp knife from a display rack as he goes, diving for Prompto’s back.

The man sidesteps without even looking, easily swipes Cor’s feet out from under him, then sidesteps again when Cor rolls with the fall and comes up swinging. Regis is tempted to try joining in, to try to get AWAY but by the time he’s thought it, the fight is already over and Cor is dazedly staring at Regis from where he’s been pinned against the wall by Prompto, “Dude,” says the member of the Dark King’s court, “rude. Wait until after dinner or something yeah? Pretty sure His Majesty will let you borrow a training room if you want to go a few rounds with me or Gladio.”

Cor twitches against the hold, but doesn’t really dare move because Prompto is holding the knife now and it is dangerously (lazily) close to Cor’s neck, “You’re faster than Gilgamesh,” Cor wheezes angrily, “How are you faster than Gilgamesh?”

Prompto doesn’t even blink at the mention of the ancient Swordmaster’s name, just lets Cor go with a shove that propels him into Clarus’s arms, “Please. Gilga-brat,” Clarus choked on his spit at the nickname, “has got nothing on Iggy when it comes to speed. Not even close. Assuming you stay for a day or two, ask your king if you can spar with Gladio a few rounds or something”

“Assuming we survive the night?” Weskham asks dryly.

Prompto blinks at him as if surprised, then grins, the expression sharp with something Regis can’t place (it almost seems like grief, but that can’t be).

They arrive in the dining room to find another human, a man with horrible scars mostly hidden beneath strange glasses that have to be too dark to see through and oddly stretched to wrap around the front of his face rather than being small, round little lenses like Regis is used to. The man is expertly directing a positive mob of Tonberry and Arachne, pointing out where to put the plates and where to adjust something all without so much as turning his head in the direction of the people he’s instructing. Regis wonders with a prickling chill if he has some kind of power given to him by the Night King. Surely all of the human inhabitants have SOME reason for staying in this place, either curses, thrall marks, or the promise of unnatural magic. Regis glimpses the woman from before, but she disappears through a different door before he can really look at her.

The blind man tips his head in their direction, “Ah, our guests. Your Highness, you sit in that chair if you will,” he gestures to the plush seat opposite the one clearly meant for the Night King and Regis falters at the implied equality between him and the Accursed, but the man is already directing the others to their seats and all they can do is tentatively creep past the bustling Tonberry and sit as food more fitting for an Altissian Royal Banquet than a castle of evil is laid out before them. He knows he should be wary, but after weeks of travel on only rations and campfire cooking, the sight and smell makes his mouth water.

Moments after they are seated, the Night King sweeps in, his Amicitia on his heels. The woman reappears alongside a boy who must be Cor’s age (physically anyway) and they seat themselves. Regis notices that the arrangement is a mirror of his own Retinue.

The prickling feeling increases.

They eat only because Regis is terrified of pushing the Accursed into acting like- well- the Accursed, even though he’s half afraid he’s eating people or something with every bite (it tastes amazing though, like fine dishes and rare spices, not like daemon food at all so maybe he’s okay?). Over dinner, the Accursed makes very light, easy conversation, never asking why they tried to break into his kingdom or mentioning the fact that they were- you know- mortal enemies. Regis doesn’t understand what the trick is and that scares him.

Finally Clarus breaks. He does not slam the table, he is more controlled than that, but he puts his utensils down and clears his throat, “May I be permitted to ask a question, Your Majesty?”

The Night King looks up and there is surprise in his eyes for just a moment, “Speak freely,” he answers dryly after a moment, “you’re hardly going to say anything I have not heard before.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Weskham shoots Clarus a sharp look and Regis pinches the bridge of his nose. The Night King tilts his head like he doesn’t understand, “Clarify.”

“Why are you entertaining us as honored guests? We are all members of your sworn enemies, of Lucis that you have spent centuries trying to destroy. Why show us courtesy? Why have the attacks on Lucis stopped to begin with?”

The Night King sits back and looks ... so genuinely flummoxed Regis almost finds himself believing it. The Accursed looks at his Dark Retinue, who all openly shrug save Ignis, who adjusts his strange glasses without comment. The Accursed frowns, then calls to the rafters, “Sheria?”

An Arachne, so old she’s massive, easily descends from the rafters (Cor’s breathing goes pointedly measured, he never could stand arachnids of any kind). The Arachne leans down and murmurs something into the Night King’s ear that the Dark Retinue can apparently hear because now all of them are blinking. The Accursed nods slowly and dismisses the giant daemon, then rubs his forehead, “Lovely. Just great. Why did no one tell me this when I took the Astral-cursed job-.”

The blind man’s lips twitch, “Noct,” he murmurs softly and there is an entire conversation in that one word. The Night King throws his head back and groans like a teenager, sits up straight and shatters Regis’s world with a casual, “Yea I didn’t do any of that stuff. I’ve only been King for ... I think a year now? About a year. Still catching up on all the paperwork and stuff.” He pauses, “The raids on your kingdom DID stop right? I ordered all raids be put on hold indefinitely on my first day.”

Regis is pretty sure he’s not breathing anymore, “You ... have only been ... for a year?” He manages a strangled gasp, squeaks out, “Then you aren’t the Accursed?”

The man waves a hand impatiently, as if the title was an annoying fly, “Formal title. Blame my uncle, he was always a drama queen.”

“...Uncle?”

The Dark Retinue is definitely snickering now as the Night King (?) props his chin on a hand and says, “Yeah, my Uncle. The original Accursed. I finally killed him a year ago, which makes me the new Night King.”

Cid runs a hand through his hair, “Ah thought the Accursed was immortal.”

“Yes, he was. Only one of his blood could kill him, everything else just bounced off. We fought, I won, so he died. That’s ... how it works. Next question.”

Cor speaks up next, because Regis is still trying to get his world to stop shattering, “So you ... aren’t going to kill us?”

A fractured expression and the deceptively human, amiable mien cracks to show ancient, terrible, grieving anger. In that moment the man before him seems centuries old, not somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties and Regis can BELIEVE that the man (men, and woman, because the others have similar expressions if not so deep and ancient) is an Immortal. Has seen things too old for Regis to comprehend.

“No,” the man answers and his voice cracks with emotion as he looks away, “No, I’m not going to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone. I did my killing. I don’t want to do anymore.” And there is ... something so very fragile in those words, so very broken and tired and Regis suddenly realizes that ... this was the first Accursed’s nephew, family, he had assumed this man killed the other out of desire for the throne but what if...

What if it have been a desperate desire to make the death and madness stop?

“Is there something we can call you,” Regis hears himself saying, his heart going out against his will to this dangerous, strange immortal, “other than your titles? Is there a name you prefer?”

The looks the Dark Retinue send him are approving and surprised, and the tight line in the Night King’s shoulders unwind, “...Noctis. Please, call me Noctis.”

#SE asks #alyss-spazz-penedo asks #Demon in the Dark verse #Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #poor noctis #telling the truth #while everyone immediately comes to the wrong conclusion #*cackles*

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autumn-maple13 · 5 years

Text

Lost to Time - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Tombs

With Monica's farewell the group was off, Gladiolus and Amara taking up the lead once they overhead some hunters mingling nearby talking about some especially ferocious creatures in the area. They moved cautiously but quickly, with the guys trying to lighten the mood by cracking jokes about the man they were going to meet. 'Cor the Restless' was still making the woman chuckle as they slipped through the rusted gate that had once separated the area, though her discomfort returned once they were walking along the old ramparts to the split in the path they would need to take.

Trying not to think about the ruins she could see down the other, Amara fell back to walk with Ignis up the steep incline – though she didn't get the chance to strike up a conversation before she and Noctis were warping after some sky bound Daggerquil that were about the divebomb the group (though Ignis's suggestion to grab them for later almost made her start up a very worrying conversation).

'What the fuck does he plan on feeding us exactly?!'

With that concern lingering, she was happy to see the stone gateway that stood not far ahead, though once more she and Noctis had to dispatch a pair of Daggerquil that were set on attacking them. Another short incline and they were faced with a stone courtyard that led to a dome-like structure she recognized was her history books.

"A tomb fit for royalty," was Prompto's awed response to the sight, voicing Amara's own thoughts, though it seemed that the others were a bit too antsy to get inside to marvel at the sight. With Gladio calling for them to move on the group made their way to the tomb's door, half unsure of what they would find.

Turns out, it was just Cor – standing there creepily in the dim light with his ghostly blue eyes almost scaring the shit out of them.

"Finally, your highness."

"Yeah," Noctis was clearly feeling the weight of the previous day crashing back down on him. "Wanna tell me what I'm here for?"

The Marshall walked around the stone man before them, motioning to the sword. "The power of kings, passed from the old to the new through the bonding of souls. One such soul lies before you. To claim your forebears' power is your birthright and duty as king."

"My duty as king of what…?" his friends looked at him in shock, though he only stared ahead.

"Now is not the time to question your calling. A king is sworn to protect his people."

"And yet he chose to protect only one prince. Was that his calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?" they could tell he was on the verge of tears from his voice alone.

"How long will you remain the protected? The king entrusted the role of protector to you." Cor was fighting to keep the anger furrowing his brow from seeping into his voice. Amara didn't hear what was said in reply – her eyes had finally locked on the sword in front of them, and though she was vaguely aware of the Prince breaking down something else was overshadowing his plight.

Lady Amara, I've been waiting for you almost as much as he.

The Wise had her full attention, and though he said no more to her, she couldn't help but feel like some distant part of her memory was trying to unlock itself now. The Queen, whichever one she had been, had mentioned a 'true history'. Could the Wise know of it as well?

When Amara finally tuned back into what was going on, she was left to watch in amazement as Noctis reached out to the sword in front of them, watching it light up and begin to float. Its light flashed, blinding them all for a moment before it floated higher, straightening up then shooting down to disappear into Noct's chest. Crystal pieces floated around him along the sword for a second, then disappeared in another flash of light.

"The power of kings goes with you, Your Majesty. However, this one isn't all that was left to you, there are tombs scattered across the land – and all on dangerous ground."

"Another one should be not far from here, right?" Although she didn't know how she knew, Amara voiced her question and watched Cor give them a nod, coming around to join them by the door.

"In Keycatrich Trench, we know of one deep in the tunnels. I'll go with you for the time being – not only to help, but also to get a measure of your strength."

"How many of these arms are there?" they cringed as light flooded the tomb once more, following Cor out to the stone courtyard.

"There are thirteen known royal tombs, but we know the location of only a few. I've asked the hunters to help find the rest."

Amara watched the group begin their walk across the stone to the incline they had so recently climbed up, and though she knew her absence would raise suspicions, she turned back to the crypt and reached out to the sword as Noct had.

The light blinded her for a moment as the sword joined her armiger as it had Noct's, and as she willed it to disappear faster, she heard Ignis calling for her. Hoping he hadn't seen anything she was happy to see him at the steps on the other end of the courtyard and rushed to him.

"Sorry!"

"As interesting as it is, perhaps we could come back and visit it later to sate your curiosity?"

"Of course, I didn't mean to hold you guys up."

"Oh, you're not, they went on ahead with the Marshall. However, we should move quickly. I think I heard gunshots."

"Yeah." Amara was more than eager to run along with the Advisor, and they soon caught up to the group not far away, having had to stop to deal with some Sabertusks that had decided to move in on them. With the wildlife soon dispatched, the group continued on with Cor explaining to them why there was so much military wreckage around on the other path.

But only a moment later both he and Amara were holding their weapons, staring down several Dropships that had landed in the clear areas on the other side of the ruins.

"Moved in indeed." Ignis groaned, summoning his own daggers. "Amara, you've dealt with them more than us, what do you-"

Amara held up a hand to silence him, eyeing the formations. "They've got snipers out front. Noct and I will take them out so you guys can get in close to the rest. It's warping time buddy."

"Good." The King was roaring to go, sword already in hand. He and Amara were warping across the battlefield only moments later and were soon dispatching riflemen left and right while the others moved in. So quickly were they warping around, the others were surprised they hadn't crashed into each other, though not even Prompto could crack a joke about it before another drop ship was coming in overhead, dropping a platoon of what the Glaive identified as 'Axemen' (between several choice slurs). Now it was time for all her training with Cor to pay off: the guys were left amazed when she and the Marshall fell in line together – he took out the enemies with his katana while she opted for that drain lance Noct had picked up (in reality it was her own, but she wasn't about to admit the one thing she could get away with).

The victory there was short-lived, Noct called out from some ruins not far away. "Guys we got armor over here!"

Amara was the first to join the King, quickly identifying the models as some of the weaker few, backing it up when she and Gladio took one out while the other tried to keep them at bay. It was taken out not long after, though the explosion that resulted knocked poor Prompto off his feet for being too near. Cor helped the younger man to his feet, but it didn't seem that the blond was bothered by his sudden flight. Instead, he focused his gaze firmly on Amara.

"Hey, Amara? You're connected to Noct now right?"

"Yeah why?" she didn't turn to him, instead walking over to a small stack of boxes labeled as containing various supplies for the human troops.

"What color was your warp clone before?"

"What color is it now?" Amara was afraid her heart would burst from how hard it was beating. She knew her clone image had been blue when she was connected to King Regis, but she hadn't paid it attention since her new connection was formed.

"Purple," came the answer from all five of the guys, chilling her and making her pause in breaking off the lid of a medically labeled box.

"Purple? Huh, that's strange." Could it be from the combination of Noct's blue and her father's red? "Maybe it's just a reaction because of the last connection."

She didn't get an answer or response, so after she finished ransacking the medical supplies, she turned back to them. They looked like they were considering her answer, though Cor clearly found it less plausible than her friends. He didn't say anything though, instead motioning for the younger adults to follow him towards some ruins near the cliff wall. As they followed him, Amara couldn't help but notice a draconian statue out of the corner of her eye. Glancing over, she realized it was of the first king, Somnus, clad in his royal armor. Locking eyes with it sent a shot of fire through her body, almost knocking her off her feet. The guys were looking back at her when she managed to steady herself, making her kick a rather large rock that was in front of her.

"Sorry, guess I was too busy listening to watch my feet."

"Amara, I understand you're a bit on edge out here, but maybe you shouldn't focus too much on enemies that might not be there." Gladio seemed a bit peeved at her clumsiness, making her flush in embarrassment.

"Force of habit, the Glaive always has someone assigned as a kind of "sound scout"." She looked a little sheepish but could hardly focus because of the lingering burn the sight of the statue had triggered. Once again, Cor looked dubious but nodded when he looked back at the others.

"She's had years of extra training pounded into her by the Glaive, she's not going to be able to undo it so easily. Especially when she's in pain."

That made the guys freeze, whipping around to look at the woman who was now glaring at her commanding officer. She sighed and shrugged, motioning for them to keep going.

"I'm fine, Cor must just be imagining things." She moved to get ahead of them, shooting the Guard a look as she passed him. Though she could hear the guys muttering to themselves behind her, she focused on looking for the tunnel entrance she knew to be nearby. When she found it, in the center of a ravine like opening in the rocks they stood on she wasted no time in jumping down and peering into the dark cavern, listening to the others scramble and jump down to join her. Amara heard Cor speak to Noctis, telling him he was going to part from them here so he could go back to keeping an eye on the Niffs though he called to her before she could take her first step into the tunnel.

The guys went ahead, leaving them alone, and leaving her no choice but to face the older man.

"Sir?"

"I'm not imaging things."

"No, but I don't want them to worry. I just overused Noct's magic too soon after connecting to him. It won't happen again, and I will let them know once we're in a place where it's not too dangerous for them to drop their guard as much." Amara knew she needed to add that last part, lest her commander head into the tunnel to tell them for her. "You know as well as I do that they can't afford to worry about me when we're about to go through a place that's bound to be crawling with daemons."

He nodded but reached out to place his hand on her shoulder. "But do you think I'm stupid enough to not tell them things to make them be on guard around you after you lied to me about getting out of the city?"

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promptistrashqueen · 6 years

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A Royal Commission 19

Short (I’m sorry) but sweet The rest is HERE

@fleetstreetfatality

The wind is stronger now, the waves on the lake large and the water gone dark, like the sky overhead. There’s no rain yet, but Prompto can practically taste the electricity in the air and he sighs, hoping it’s just because it’s so early that everything seems so bleak out.

Cor doesn’t waste time, just greets Prompto with a nod and steps off the porch, leaving Prompto to glance back inside where the living room is still disorganized from the night before. He rolls his shoulders and follows the marshall.

“I want you to try to summon your weapon.”

Prompto blinks and then smiles a little, “I can’t summon things.”

Cor just stares at him for a beat and then turns back toward the house, “Stay here.”

Prompto shifts, uncomfortable, but does as he’s told. The morning air is chilled enough that he jogs in place a bit to stay warm in the breeze coming off the lake, even still it’s lovely and he feels a pang of sadness that they have to leave tomorrow. He wonders, in the moment alone, if Noctis and the others ever wish that this was their life instead, here in the house by the lake, fishing and just being normal. He knows that they’re all proficient hunters and he’s sure they could do so many other things, if birth had been kinder.

Prompto starts to realize that maybe his common status is a blessing, even with the shadow of his past growing longer with each passing year. He’s pulled from the dark thoughts by the telltale sound of Noctis grumbling.

He turns with a grin tugging at his lips in time to see Cor half-pulling the Prince, still in his PJ’s with hair a mess, across the yard.

“You brought it on yourself. You gave Prompto a weapon and brought him close to you and didn’t think to give him access to the armiger. Maybe think ahead next time and I’ll let you sleep.”

“You said people hadtabetrained.” Noctis yawns the last bit, mushing the words.

Cor just looks unimpressed and Prompto pats his shoulder, “Buddy, you’re not awake enough to argue, just do your thing and go back to bed.”

Noctis makes a noise that Prompto takes as agreement because the next moment he’s got an armful of Prince and Noctis is kissing him sloppily, making soft noises and Prompto’s blushing a bit because Cor is right there. Before he can be too mortified Noctis pulls back and speaks something softly in old Lucian and then kisses him again and there’s power, a fissure in the air that Prompto knows is all Noctis and then it’s in him too, running under his skin. A livewire of power laces into his bones and they part. He looks down and finds the blue energy wrapping around them both before it sinks into Prompto’s skin and Noctis gives him a smug sleepy smile and stumbles away with a half assed wave to Cor.

“Tell Gladio an extra hour of training with you for the week after that display.”

The Prince just gives Cor the finger.

“I’m guessing he didn’t kiss everybody else then?” Prompto says it more to ease his own embarrassment than anything else and Cor just shakes his head.

“Drama Queen.” They both say and Cor’s eyes sparkle a moment, leaving Prompto to wonder what kind of mischief might be held back by the Marshal’s seriousness.

“Now then. Summon your weapon.”

Prompto’s brows draw together and he hold out his hand, fingers flexing. He feels stupid when nothing happens and is immediately reminded of the scene in the first Spider-Man when Peter makes a fool of himself trying to figure out the web. The difference is plain, one of them has an audience. Cor’s expression doesn’t change though and Prompto shakes himself.

He tries to focus on the magic in him now and goes with what feels right, tugging his hand back as he pulls on the energy. He feels something in his grasp and excitedly moves to aim only to realize….

“Uh...ebony?”

Cor raises an eyebrow at the can of coffee Ignis has a taste for held in Prompto’s grasp and the blonde blushes brightly shaking his hand and sending it away, reaching again and being careful to feel out something that when he touches on it feels his mouth with the taste of hot metal.

This time the motion is rewarded and he holds the pistol Noct gave to him when Ardyn came, it’s beautiful and idly he thinks he should add it to his tattoos as he flicks off the safety and takes aim at the target Cor set up the day before.

He squeezes off a shot and the glass bottle erupts, making him crow triumphantly. Cor smiles at him wanly and then he’s summoning a sword.

“Hitting targets is good, helps keep your eye sharp but when you’re shooting to protect yourself it’s harder. I’m going to attack you in a moment, first load these.” he tosses Prompto rubber shots, “and do me a favor, don’t aim for the head.”

Prompto flops on the couch beside Noctis, burying his head in his boyfriends shoulder, “I’m a bruise. A very tender bruise.”

Noctis just snorts and pushes at him until they’re settled against each other comfortably, “I peeked out earlier, you got a few good hits on Cor.”

“Tell it to my bones.” Prompto mumbles into Noctis’ shirt even as Iris bounces on the couch beside him, making him groan as it shifts him around. Cor had only hit him with the flat of his blade but that had been enough and his arms and legs throbbed, a nasty purple likely hiding just under his ribs too.

“Uh-oh, sorry Prompto! It’s too dreary out to go outside, should we watch a movie?” Iris’ cheer wasn’t dampened by the two bleary boys and Prompto offers a quick thumbs up as Noctis answers, “You pick.”

The memo must get around because a few minutes later everyone is seated around the living room, Regis and Clarus taking the armchairs as Ignis and Gladio seat themselves on the floor and Cor sits on the footstool, leaving the other three on the couch. Ignis passes out bowls of fresh popcorn as Iris presses play and the rain that starts is a nice background to the film. It’s an animated story of a girls adventure, a story of growing up and being yourself in a charming style.

Prompto sniffles a little at the end and Noctis gives his hand a squeeze where their fingers are tangled, looking around Prompto see’s that he’s not the only one affected as several others are heavily glassy eyed and Ignis surreptitiously wipes at his eyes.

As the credits roll and the room is deathly quiet so he clears his throat, “Hey! Let’s watch Emperors New Groove!”

There’s an enthusiastic agreement and Regis, his voice grating and high yells, “Pull the Lever Kronk!”

It makes him feel less heavy as everyone seems to warm to the idea and Ignis gets up to make more popcorn.

“I told Gladdy he should be Kronk for Halloween.” Iris pokes her big brother with her toe and Prompto laughs as Noctis rolls his eyes, snuggling into Prompto’s side more.

“Only if Ignis is Yzma.”

The dignified choking noise from the kitchen answers that suggestion.

The last night at the cabin is bittersweet, they roast s’mores over a flame that Regis produces and controls in a bowl. Prompto laughs as Noctis makes a mess of himself and even Ignis has marshmallow smeared over his cheek.

Regis takes great joy in smashing a warm piece of marshmallow into Clarus’ face when the shield tries to talk about the meeting the next day and they take turns trying to catch pieces of graham crackers that Gladio tosses in their mouths.

“I must say Prompto, it’s been lovely having you along. I hope that you’ll be with us again for next years outing.”

Prompto turns to look at Regis as a piece of cracker pelts his cheek, blushing, “I hope that I will too sir. It’s nice to be together like this, like a family. It’s not something I’m used to and uh, it’s really great that you’ve got this sort of thing, especially with Insomnia and Lucis and uh...everything.”

He doesn’t know if he can actually blush anymore than he already is but Regis is smiling at him warmly and Noctis leans into his side and a glance shows Clarus and Cor both looking warmer.

“You are right in thinking it’s a hard thing to have, when we are men overwhelmed too often by our duties. I believe our children have had a great deal of influence in this and I am proud of them.” Regis pauses and looks around the table as Clarus adds, “not as successors, or rather, not only as successors, but simply as our family. I too am very proud of you all for remembering the things that are important outside of your duty to the crown.”

The table is silent for a moment and then there are grins and Gladio snorts, “You know that might’ve been more weighty if there wasn’t still marshmallow on your nose.”

Prompto decides, right then, that he never wants to go back to being alone.

#part 19 #A royal commission #FFXV #FFXV Fanfiction #Noctis #Prompto #Promptis #Gladio #Ignis #Cor #Regis #Clarus #Cinnadad #smores #cute #boys #Iris #Movies #soft #short

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sirladysketch · 6 years

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This is a story that was supposed to be a oneshot, but I really need fluff in my writing life right now (HTLGI is hitting a dark patch) and I couldn’t stop cackling over the idea of this, so now it’s a 5 chapter, just-for-funsies fic. Hope you guys enjoy!

Ardyn was dead.

(....Probably)

They'd used the power of the Crystal to stop him, anyway, and although his dying words were a threat that he would return, the sky cleared, the sun came out, and Noct descended the steps from the throne to kneel beside his friends as they revived from the sleep spell.

The next few hours passed in a somewhat of a blur; he'd been injured during the fight with Ifrit, and going against Ardyn hadn’t done the burns any favors, so Ignis demanded that he rest while they secured the perimeter. He sat on the crumbling steps, sipping from an elixir under Ignis’ worried gaze as Gladio checked the immediate area. Prompto radioed into Hammerhead to share the good news and to request immediate backup, chatting with Talcott for a few minutes before signing off to preserve the battery. Hunters were en route, and the remaining Glaives (such as they were), were getting called back, but it would take a couple of days for them to muster to the citadel, during which time they were on their own.

By unspoken and unanimous agreement, they retreated from the broken throne room to seek out areas that had been less affected by darkness’ taint, and at length they found themselves upstairs in the royal suite. There was no indication of Ardyn even approaching this part of the keep, the hallways covered in a thin film of dust that stirred into little eddies as they passed.

Noct stopped in front of the doors that lead to the private domain that had once been his father's, and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay beyond. A comforting hand fell on his shoulder-- he wasn’t sure whose it was, but he knew that the three of them stood at his back, and he smiled, standing a little taller. He patted the hand and then stepped forward, grasping the double doors and pulling them open.

All at once, the last memory of his father in this room came to him-- Regis telling him of Ardyn’s decree for marriage, what the King had hoped the peace agreement would mean for the kingdom, why he felt that Noct and his friends leave the city, rather than stay and marry after the treaty had been signed. Noct had wondered if the King had known something, but he’d never be able to ask now.

Now it was empty. It smelled of stale air and dust, and only cracks of sunlight managed to filter in through the curtains at the window. He walked over and pulled them open, spilling light into the room and temporarily blinding all of them. He turned and tried to take it all in, letting his eyes adjust. For better or worse, this was his now. His responsibility to pick up, his duty to carry on so that the kingdom could rebuild.

And it occurred to him in that moment, standing in his father's sitting room, that he had no plans for what to do next.

They'd been planning up to the confrontation with Ardyn, all of their efforts focused on getting to the city and ending the darkness. He hadn't planned to walk out of that alive, hadn't thought he'd need to plan beyond summoning the power of his ancestors to destroy Ardyn.

He had no contingency plan in place for the event of his survival.

Crap.

He turned to his friends, wondering if they’d come to the same conclusion.

“So… what now?” he asked, glad to see that they, too, were sort of standing in place, unsure of where to stand or what to say. Gladio waited half-in, half-out of the doorway, as though he hadn’t decided whether it would be better to stand guard in the hallway to watch for attacks or to stay by Noct’s side to keep him safe. Prompto decided to take that moment to snap a photograph, once again temporarily blinding Noct, but he didn’t have the heart to chastise him, overwhelmed by the fact that they could still make memories after all of this.

As it was, Ignis was the first to come back to himself, quickly assessing the situation and coming up with a plan.

“Now, we take inventory, then we clean,” he said, running a finger along a dusty surface and ‘tsking’ as it came away with a white smudge. “And I’ll see about getting something prepared for supper, shall I?”

Fortunately, Regis had left them a gift to that end. They worked on each room together, dusting and taking stock of the items his father (or more likely, his father’s Glaives) had hidden in nooks and crannies. As they went through the bedroom, Ignis let out an excited “That’s it!” and pulled out a collection of what had to be Regis’ personal bar, still intact and ready to drink.

The first toast went to Regis, the next to the brave men and women who sacrificed so much to get them to this point. The following toast was to friends and loved ones, and the rest of the next two bottles went to reminiscing about everything and nothing in particular. They did not speak of the future; tonight was about remembering what had been. The future could be dealt with another day.

Of course, the gods always have other ideas.

Noct shuffled out of the bedroom sometime mid morning the next day, bleary-eyed and still slightly hungover. He'd beaten the others out of bed, something he'd tease them about to no end once they surfaced, but given the celebrations of the previous evening, that was hardly a surprise. Somewhere along the line he'd lost his jacket and pants, but given the fact that it would be days before the hunters arrived and the guys had seen him in far less, he didn't really worry about it that much.

He was moving on autopilot through the rooms, taking the quiet of the morning to remember his father and the happier times they'd shared. He drew back the curtains in each room he entered, flooding the apartment with light and feeling better, more confident about what was to come. He could see the city-- his city-- below, and while there were significant signs of damage, it looked like some districts had come through more intact than he’d initially feared. They'd have to investigate as soon as the teams reported in, of course, and they’d need to confirm that the daemons were completely gone, but they might be able to start moving people back into the city within a week or so, and then the real work would begin.

He turned from the window, lost in thought, and paused, staring into the room. The wheels in his mind were… well, if not turning at quite their normal speeds, they were definitely in motion. All the same, it took him a moment to figure out why he was suddenly on edge, and what had changed in the room since he'd entered.

“Holy fuck!” he yelped, stumbling backwards and falling on his ass. He heard the distinct crack of glass, but he didn’t feel anything, so he’d leave that on his ‘investigate later’ list, focusing instead on the intruder in the room. He grappled with the edge of a chair to pull himself back up to his feet, swaying a little and blinking away the spots and wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him.

Gentiana watched him collect himself off the ground with a cool, somewhat distasteful look.

“Are you well?” she asked, taking his bumbling lurches in stride and watching him attempt to look presentable. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, very much aware of his missing pants, and reached forward to pull a blanket off one of the chairs in the room, wrapping it around his waist.

“Ah--Sorry, I mean, um, Gentiana, we were celebrating, and, ah, hm, we weren't expecting you, what, ah, brings you here?”

“What were you celebrating?” She asked, and there was a definite chill to her voice, although she didn’t appear to be angry. He wished he still had that elixir from the day before to deal with the headache he could feel forming at the back of his tongue, something to give him an edge and sharpen his thoughts enough to hold--and remember-- a conversation with a goddess.

“We beat Ardyn,” he said, blinking at her. “The sun is out. We’re all alive. Take your pick.”

“Hmm,” she replied, as though she’d forgotten the fight he’d faced… gods, was it only yesterday? Oh, shit. He’d beaten up her boyfriend, was that why she seemed off? Granted, she’d helped him beat up Ifrit, but he couldn’t help but wonder what had brought her back so quickly-- if she’d even left in the first place.

“...Do I need to be sober for this?” he asked, wondering if it would be rude to rifle through the Armiger to pull out another elixir. Or to head back to his dad’s illicit stash of booze. “Or is this a case where I should drink more to deal with whatever you have to say to me?”

This did earn him a slight smile at last, although it was brief. “I come to speak of you about grave matters,” she replied, and her eyes flicked to the other room where the guys were still sleeping off the various bottles of his dad’s private collection. “However, I imagine you will feel more inclined to the latter state of mind.”

“....Lemme get Specs,” Noct mumbled, then headed into the bedroom, shuffling over bodies and squinting at the shapes in the gloom, trying to figure out which one was which. He could’ve bent down to get a closer look, but in the end he figured that 1, they’d all probably want to hear what the goddess had to say, and 2, if he knelt down he might not be able to get up.

“Rise and shine, people! We’ve got company. Prompto, gimme my pants back.”

A few minutes later, the four were all more or less dressed and awake, sitting on one of the long couches in the parlor while Gentiana sat perched on one of the large reclining chairs. Ignis had tried to make it less awkward by offering her a drink, but she’d politely declined, and anyway there didn’t seem to be any tea or coffee left in the apartment’s kitchenette, at least nothing that could be considered safe enough to use.

Noct cleared his throat, praying that he was sober enough to deal with whatever pile of shit (and let’s face it, dealing with the gods had never been anything but a shitty experience) Gentiana was about to give him.

“So, why’re you here?” he asked again, trying to sound polite and courteous and not like he could taste the sunlight through the dull ache of an oncoming migraine. “Ardyn is gone, and I have a kingdom to get back together. Are you here to offer me advice?”

“Hardly,” Gentiana said, voice crisp. She brushed off imaginary dust from her long skirts, giving a little sniff as she continued. “Ardyn has been temporarily dealt with, as Bahamut told you from the start. Because you failed to destroy him, he will rise again, years from now, to attempt to take over the world once again.”

Her eyes narrowed, and Noct felt the guys around him stiffen, not quite ready to draw weapons, but they were all starting to realize that it might not be best to deal with an angry ice goddess when you were three and a half sheets to the wind. Noct regretted not getting a drink-- elixir or alcohol, either would’ve been a nice distraction and excuse to look away.

“You failed in your primary task as The True King, and therefore, I have come to provide you with a new one,” she said, sitting primly on the edge of her chair. “You must produce an heir.”

Noct blinked at her, wondering if he’d heard that right. “I… what?”

“You were chosen to save the world from darkness once and for all. You failed to do so--”

“Yeah, I got that part, sorry I lived. What’s the bit about the heir?” he cut in, but she ignored him, talking over his interruption.

“--so you must continue the Lucis line so that another King of Light will rise to do what you were unable to do. This is your obligation as king,” she said. She clasped her hands in her lap and smiled, looking as though she’d just made an innocuous comment about the weather. Noct spluttered, trying to pull thoughts out of the fuzzy wool that clouded his brain.

“Luna’s dead!” he protested. Gentiana had the decency to look sad about that, but her tone was matter of fact.

“Her brother has already begun making valiant efforts in continuing the line of the Oracle,” Gentiana replied, apparently unconcerned that Ravus might take offense at the goddess telling everyone of his unprotected sexual escapades. “It is now time that the King-- the sole wielder of the Ring-- do the same.”

Noct gaped at her, then looked to his friends, who shared mixed expressions of amusement and horror-- no doubt both at his expense. Noct ran fingers through his hair, trying to sort out what she’d said by repeating it aloud. “You just want me to… find some woman and…? How can you even…? Isn’t there something else we can do to stop Ardyn from coming back?”

“The line of Lucis is the only one able to wield the Ring,” she repeated, speaking slowly this time to ensure that he completely understood what she was saying. “Therefore it is your responsibility to ensure that that ability is passed on to the future King-- or Queen-- who will destroy Ardyn completely.”

“You don’t make people just to sacrifice them,” said Noct, voice soft. He looked over at Prompto, who caught his meaning and flushed, one hand going up to cover his tattoo. Noct turned back to Gentiana. “You can’t ask me to do that, it isn’t right.”

“Do you object because you are angry that I say that you failed your primary purpose in life? Or are you angry that I suggest that you rectify the mistake?” she asked, apparently not willing to put up with his refusal. Then she looked at his companions for the first time and tilted her head, puzzled frown on her face. “Or is it because you prefer to lay with men and therefore do not believe you are capable of continuing the line?”

“I-- that’s--- that’s none of-- Augh! It’s just not right, alright!” sputtered Noct, face burning. He very carefully did not look at his friends as he spoke, clearing his throat and forcing himself to take slow, even breaths. He was the King. The very epitome of calm and collected. He was not a rogue tomato in fancy dress, no matter how hot his cheeks felt.

“You lost your ability to contest this when you failed in your duty as King,” she repeated, standing and giving them all a level look. “I am telling you that it must be rectified, and soon. How you choose to do so is your own prerogative. Get it done, or we will be forced to take actions.”

And with that she was gone, leaving the four of them standing in the parlor, still hungover but not quite sober enough to believe what they’d heard, and definitely not drunk enough to put up with it. Noct fell back onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples.

Ignis was the first to speak, clearing his throat as a way to break the tension. “...Well, it seems that we have a bit of a dilemma,” he said, not daring to look Noct in the eye.

“You think?” Gladio asked, then laughed, slapping Noct on the shoulder. “We’ve dealt with worse shit than this, your highness. Plenty of ladies out there who’ll line up for a chance to jump in bed with you.” Noct paled and swayed under Gladio’s hand. “‘’Course, Iris might have something to say about that,” he mused, knowing his little sister would probably cut a bitch to be first in line.

“I don’t… want to do that,” Noct said, gritting his teeth and sinking down to lean against the arm of the sofa.

“Well, for what it’s worth, Gentiana raised a good question,” Ignis said, thinking out loud. “One that we must address before we can determine the best course of action. Why do you object to producing an heir, is it any of the reasons she mentioned?”

“Ugh… all of the above?” Noct replied, then groaned into his hands. “I can’t do this right now, we have survivors to help, relief efforts to organize, a city to clean up and rebuild-- I don’t have time to worry about wooing someone for the express purpose of getting laid and knocking up some woman so the gods will get off my ass!”

They had the decency not to laugh at that, but Noct could tell that they were just imagining it, a line of women through the streets of Insomnia, signing up to do their duty for Crown and Country. For the first time in 24 hours, he was having serious second thoughts about not answering the Ring’s bloodthirsty call.

A quiet voice spoke up amidst their bemused ponderings, soft and hesitant, but clear enough that they all broke from their private thoughts.

“I can’t believe I’m actually suggesting this, but some of Verstael’s equipment might be functional if you want to… skip the dating process.” The three of them turned as one to look at Prompto, who blinked at the sudden, intense attention he’d garnered. He took a step back, holding up his hands. “What? I’m not saying it’s a good solution, but if you really don’t think you’re, um, up for the challenge …. Aranea might know some scientists who survived and could help you out.”

“Or you could get it on with Aranea, she’s pretty hot,” Gladio suggested. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, as though imagining the scene. “And she’d probably be up for keeping the armor on, so you could pretend she was someone else if she’s not your type.”

“There is also rank to consider,” said Ignis, apparently thinking through the possibilities and actually considering this what the hell. “A king is usually required to marry into nobility, which is why Lady Lunafreya was such a good match. There may not be many candidates remaining, however, so that may be a moot point. Iris might actually be our best candidate to put forward-- she has an established relationship and affection for Noct, and the Amitica family line has certainly proven its fortitude these many long years.”

“Are you seriously pimping out my sister?” asked Gladio, crossing his arms and frowning in thought. “...I mean, you have a point, but still. That’s my little sister you’re talking about.”

“Your little sister took out three behemoths in as many months,” argued Ignis, warming up to the idea. “She could certainly keep Noct in check.”

“Guyssssss you’re forgetting the fact that Noct doesn’t want to knock up anybody!” protested Prompto, earning a grateful look from the King. Then he lost it when he continued, “...although knowing the Empire, they probably have everything you’d need for a Luna clone. Would that be weird? I feel like that would be weird.”

“I’m telling you, we pay Aranea to pop out a brat and it’s done-- no need to break any hearts over it, it’s strictly a business deal,” said Gladio, mind already made up.

Ignis pushed his glasses further up his nose, squaring off against the larger man. “And as much as you may not wish to hear it, I still believe your sister is our best option, and Iris would agree with me.”

“Or we could, you know, not worry about producing an heir right now and focus on stuff like getting farms up and running again, or, I don't know, helping survivors rebuild parts of the city so they can come home,” suggested Noct, but the three people he considered as his only surviving family just looked at him, shaking their heads.

“Dude, did you see what Shiva did to Ifrit? He's her boyfriend and she STILL turned him into a popsicle. No way am I letting her get pissed off at you, buddy,” Prompto said, shivering at the memory.

“It’s not the end of the world, kid. I’ll talk you through it, and we can get you really drunk if you’re that worried about it,” Gladio promised.

Ignis patted Noct’s shoulder. “It will all work out for the best,” he said, giving Noct a sympathetic smile. “It shan’t be that terrible a fate.”

Noct stood and walked into the bedroom, leaving the three of them to contemplate their newest quest, Operation: Get Noct Up. He’d been right; he was definitely not drunk enough to deal with this shit.

#my fics #ffxv fanfiction #post-Ignis ending #crack fics #Noct #For Crown and Country #my fanfics #WIPS #Final Fantasy XV #FF 15

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