[ Safely, she pulls his mind back from within to reality, that focus that had been turned inward unfurling outward instead. It’s a gentle journey back to finish, safe with her guidance as if waking up to natural light... except when either of them might open their eyes, it’s completely dark. They’ve been sitting here this entire time.
It is her smile that greets him, pride shining in her eyes for him for what he’s managed to do. Even unraveling a single signature of that energy is a feat, and she wants to say as much— and perhaps give a suggestion that they celebrate the accomplishment in some way— but then she notices the wetness upon his cheeks. He had been crying...?
Cue her concern coming into full play— ]
Oh— oh, Noct, I— [ Didn’t notice. ] Are you alright? How are you feeling? [ The hand that had been upon his shoulder lifts to his cheek, feeling the remnant of tears. Her gaze remains questioning, did something happen? ]
[He doesn't understand the question at first, but when he reaches up to touch his own cheek- oh. He hadn't noticed, either. When had that…? Embarrassed at his own absurdity, he rubs at his eyes, trying to remove the offending tears.]
I'm fine… I'm okay. I don't know why that...
[Okay, that's not true. He can definitely guess why he'd be randomly weeping like a fool out of nowhere like this.]
I guess it- I mean, something must have carried through. Two thousand years just sounds like a big number, you don't really feel the weight of it by just talking about it.
[They've been waiting so long. It had been nothing to say before- he'd joked about it to Gladio, how he was worth the wait. What a terrible thing to say in retrospect.]
[ Her hand drops from his cheek, returning to hold the one that remains between them. The quiet exhale she gives accompanies the relief that he’s not hurt, followed by a smile.
Wiping his eyes, embarrassed like that makes him seem... sweet. She admires that he able to feel so strongly, that he has the capacity to feel this for his magic, this legacy, to accept it despite the strain it causes, to continue to want to understand what it has to offer and teach him. Dammit Noctis, you’re going to make her cry, and she’s not even sure why! Maybe out of happiness, for him and for his magic, as if they had come together in a reunion.
He had asked her how to be brave, once, but with an outcome like this? It’s hard to believe he’s ever truly feared it. It would be a massive amount of projection on her part that maybe this power appreciates he can feel for it; she knows she would have... And she still would.
Sighing again, she leans forward to bring him into a hug, head tucked over his shoulder as she whispers, ] You really are.... incredibly good. I’m sure your new power appreciates you communing with it after so long. It was beautiful to witness.
[ His heart is grand, empathetic and strong, to be effected like this, shedding tears for an ancient power that has been waiting for millennia. ]
[He makes a soft surprised noise as she pulls him against her, one arm lifting to tentatively hold her back. The other feels too heavy, like all the energy's been dragged out of him through the ring. He hadn't even used it, not really, but channelling the magic of an ancient soul for so long is exhausting. He has no doubt that if not for Pyra funnelling her magic into him, he'd have collapsed into statis ages ago.
He briefly hesitates at her words, letting the distraction of the hug buy him time; he could tell her. It might help, if she understood the weight of what he's trying to accomplish here. But without knowing what she already knows, and the fact that she lives with Somnus? That might be too much. Maybe if his ancestor gave the okay, but so much of this stuff had been a family secret that he's not sure what's fair to say or not.
Finally, he opts to just nod, his chin bumping lightly against her shoulder.]
[ Still so reluctant to accept praise, this one. He really is too much.
Pulling out of the embrace, her smile remains as she searched his expression. She was going to say that they should celebrate, but he looks completely exhausted. Her gaze drops to the ring upon his finger. ] ...It’s pretty heavy, isn’t it?
[ Especially with the weight of this magic for two thousand years—— ]
[ Suddenly in one single pause: she recalls a number things he’s told her of his power before:
And there's this Crystal, something my family's been guarding for thousands of years, that was given to us by the gods- it powers our magic...
He was given a ring from the gods that only a king of Lucis could wear.
When a king or queen of Lucis dies, their weapon retains the power they had while they were alive. Then the ones still living can visit their tombs and gain that power...
It was made for the royal family, and the line's all about building on top of the previous generations, gathering power from those who came before.
And finally:
Magic's kind of... busy. It's hard to hear what it's trying to say, it's just one big noise all blurring together.
Two thousand years just sounds like a big number, you don't really feel the weight of it by just talking about it.
............All of this combined with what she has felt from his magic, in addition to knowing that Somnus has somehow stayed conscious and watching the world despite being dead for millennia—
[ Oh goodness when he had said noisy, did he mean it literally, she can’t even imagine— No, no, that can’t be true. But it must be! What else makes sense? She wants to ask, the question is burning upon her tongue, but maybe it’s something she shouldn’t ask about! Surely he would have said something before if he wanted her to know? And, and they did this much tonight, clearly she doesn’t need any of her questions verified for her to help him!
Yet, she’s staring at his hand as if he’s wearing five rings, and when her eyes snap up to meet his, she’s looking at him as if he has two heads. ]
[He would have responded - at least with an affirmative - but that reaction makes him stop short, studying her shifting expressions for a long moment, brows furrowing as he puzzles through it. She... looks like she just figured something out herself.
...Ah. Maybe he gave it away, after all. He leans back, lifting his hand to look at the ring. It's gone dormant, no longer glowing, and for now is also quiet, but there's no denying that constant thrum of immense power contained within the metal. He hadn't been very subtle, so maybe there was no way around it, purely due to him involving her in this.
[ Felt...? When she had created a link with Somnus, she had gotten a feel for his own magic, and it was that unique signature unto him that has helped identify one of bands of “noise” within the tangle that is this power. This had been the greatest clue to the puzzle, but she is largely still overwhelmed— if only because of the implications of it.
Two thousand years, and none of them asleep, all waiting for him...
Would it have been more merciful for them to sleep? ]
I— ....I’m... shocked. [ Her brow knits, and she looks away in worry. It’s one thing to have your family with you, and she’s expect his extensive ancestry to be helpful, not a hinderance; alleviating, not a burden. But it seems that this is something that causes him to be both wary and weary. She’s amazed at what this ring is, yes, but more than that— ] A... whole dynasty’s power and knowledge just on your fingers... [ And he’s already powerful enough already. ] You... are meant to carry them by yourself?
[ She really, desperately hopes he’s shared this burden in some way with his friends. Yet it is a testament to his own strength that he hasn’t collapsed. That, or he’s very good at hiding the toll it takes. ]
[His responding expression - grim and unhappy, not subtle in the slightest - is probably answer enough before he verbalizes it. There's resolution and strength as well, but he can't deny his own worries.]
No one else could do it. This ring… it kills people. Doesn't matter how good or heroic they might be, all that matters to the souls inside are what counts as worthy. Or whose blood you have. Only the line of Lucis can wear it.
[He thinks of Nyx, who did so much to save Insomnia, protected Luna, fought tooth and nail for a country that all but abandoned his homeland, for a king who looked selfish while thinking of what the world needed. He'd done so much and the ring still stole his life when it was all over. The unfairness of it is wretched.]
Luna carried it for me until she got here, and I know it hurt her. I won't let that happen to anyone else.
[ If she remembers correctly, Luna arrived when Pyra first arrived, and if she passed the ring off to Noctis back then... It can only mean that it has been looming over his head this entire time. Months, it had been months since then, and she hadn't even noticed--
[He hesitates. Regrets doing so immediately, knowing that in itself is an answer.]
Not... in any way that's tangible.
[Not yet, at least. Any lie would be hopelessly transparent, so he doesn't try, even if the truth is left unspoken. The hurt doesn't show; it's not a wound to be healed or an illness to treat. It hasn't truly pained him beyond the agony of that first wearing, and even that hadn't been formal, more a flaw that lies in him than the nature of the ring. His father's shock made it clear that such pain wasn't normal. The rest is just noise, headaches born from his inability to listen effectively.
It's subtle. It's the future, what's going to happen, once he starts using it. It's his dad's hair gone grey too young, hiding from public view so Noct wouldn't see him struggling to walk with a cane in his mid-forties. It's the death of a thousand cuts and the two-short lifespan of every royal who came before.]
[ Emotional, then, she thinks at first, but another thought counters it: if it's only that, then how does it kill? There must be a physical price, one she cannot apparently tell, but he still wishes to use it. Even if it can hurt him. This is what he must do for his world, and this new power he has, if he ever has the need to use it, he may do so here in this world. Therefore, it may also potentially help this one. It's easy to conclude that it would be useful to encourage him to continue practicing with this power-- and... isn't that what she's doing with him here already?
She's about to ask him what he needs this ring for, but it's an answer he's already given, and words she has already said to him: "With more power you can... protect what you wish to protect. Who you wish to protect. The sunrise you saw that day, is that part of the future you wish to safeguard?"
"...Yeah, of course."
He already seems to accept that bearing this ring is necessary to use to protect those for whom he cares; he's acknowledged this as a truth. ] Seeing the dawn with your friends... it is worth calling upon the power of this ring, isn't it? If you had to.
[ However, it's not that over which he's melancholy, she thinks, but that-- what? What is she's missing, that it makes him more isolated, because it's something he can only bear alone? Or that he's not doing it effectively enough? Or that he hadn't done this sooner? ] I only wish that you didn't have to [ She struggles to find a word, but then ends up with this: ] punished for it. [ That's what it seems like to her. Maybe power should have pain as a deterrent so that it may not be abused, but she could never see Noct as being among the type that would. ]
[He huffs a breath, the sound almost a laugh if not for the bitterness woven through his tone.] You're not the only one.
[He takes off the ring and draws back enough that he won't risk her brushing up against it while he's holding it - he can't help his own paranoia, though it's less frightening when it's on his finger. With his free hand he pulls a chain off from around his neck and threads it through.]
Watching my dad, I grew up knowing this would happen one way or another- there's always been a price for using the ring, even for us. Bet most of the old kings barely hit middle age.
[He shoots her a brief but meaningful look; she lives with Somnus, she knows how young he looks in death. Younger than most, granted, but he'd had a lot that needed doing in his time.]
Anybody would be scared of dying... that's normal. But putting it on meant stepping up, really taking over after my dad. Being king. It meant that he's actually gone, that I'd feel it.
[His fingers rub idly over the surface of the ring. Barely a minute after it's off his finger and he already feels better. How his father endured it for as long as he did, he has no idea.]
[ It would also mean fully accepting that his father had died when Noctis wasn’t ready to accept it when he hadn’t properly mourned before.
She hears him fine clink if the metal of the ring against the chain, and her attention lifts to it, then to him. From what he’s saying, those of his line do not live long. Somnus looks young, and she presumes him to be in his thirties. Noctis is twenty. That gives him ten, fifteen more years to live at least....
That’s so— little. She looks at him, aghast. He has so very little time, and if this power is hurting him, then is she really helping with what she’s doing here? ]
[He pauses, then. Does he feel like a king? It doesn't really feel like it. He never has, not from the moment he heard it confirmed that his father died, not when Cor called him "Majesty" for the first and only time, a title he's sure was used only as a formality to really add weight to his new responsibilities. Since that day he'd only ever been the prince, still, with no kingdom or coronation, no ring, no Crystal. He was just Noctis, crown prince and the supposed chosen one, the rest nothing more than an empty title. The only people who ever addressed him as the king were his enemies, with the intent to mock or capture or kill him. They didn't view him as much of a king, either.
Finally, he shakes his head. There's no point in even debating it.]
I don't. It hasn't changed anything, not really. Just made my hand a little heavier. But it's not as if I have a choice, right? I'm not a kid anymore. Just because I'm not ready doesn't mean the world is gonna wait for me.
[He tucks his knees up, hugging them to his chest- a little childish, despite his words, but what does it really matter, here.]
I guess… it's why I don't hate it here. So much has happened that's put me in better shape to do what I'm supposed to- I've had time to train, and learn about the ring from Dad, and meet Somnus and Ardyn for real. And have fun, too. [He offers her a little smile, a proper one this time.] Even if I went home tomorrow, I'm better off than I was. I keep telling myself that, and it helps.
[ It is difficult to say what it would be like to feel like a king, let alone what the qualifications of one are among the multitudes of worlds. Even among the hundred-plus souls within his ring, not all of them must have displayed their kingship or queenship in the same way. With all of this to consider, is there any one defining thing that could make him feel like one? ] You train so much....
[ Attempting to be like them, to do as they did, will do little to help him besides inspiration. They must have had their own circumstances to dictate their decisions. He did not live in their time, and they are not living in his. He cannot continue to dance as they did. ]
The kind of king you wish to be... [ With no kingdom at that, but with close friends, with brothers, with the light at his fingertips. As he's said, he has this opportunity here to help him. It shows in his small smile he attempts to form for her, and her expression becomes less sorrowful as a result. The world brightens when he smiles. ] You have to decide it for yourself. It can be different from them....
[ A pause, and she lifts her eyes to meet his again. The only blue that can rival his power are that of his own eyes. They stand out even in the night for how she can see his determination.
She had been intent on letting her suggestion stop then and there, but she realizes something then-- something that urges her to speak more. Her hand squeezes his, and in a hushed tone she speaks: ] And... I think I you're already on that path.
[ She lets that linger, swallowing something in her throat, and then starts again. ] Somnus built a kingdom, your father built a wall... These bring safety.
[ He wants to keep those he cherishes safe. That is why he needs this power. But he's different from the both of those previous kings in that manner, not for the physical safety they bring, but something quite intangible. And she feels he needs to know this, how he diverges from them, surpasses them in his own way before he ever even donned the ring. ] I think that those whose lives you have touched don't need you to make them feel safe, Noct.
Because you make us feel brave... and that's even better.
[He tilts his head to one side, just watching her quietly for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The kind of king… he hadn't much considered that that might be his choice, either. Everything was pre-determined, so he wasn't sure if his kingship was part of it as well. It wouldn't make sense for his title to be King of anything if it didn't involve how he sat the throne. But after all of that is said and done, what then? Can he rebuild his country, his home, with his allies to help guide him and figure things out as they go, just like they always have? As partners, friends, family?
It reminds him of what Luna had said, not just recently but also when they were children: they were meant to work together, as a team, the king and his Oracle. Just as the king is always meant to have a Shield at his side, through the Amicitias. Just as a leader can't lead without a council or friends to support his decisions. Just as the Chosen has always been watched and guided by his Messenger. He's never truly been alone, even in his darkest moments. Those who support him make him feel brave, even when terror floods his heart, when the threat of death creeps up on him in waves.
"Remember- those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always." "Please, come back soon! We need our king!" "I hope you will not grow too tired of constantly having me at your side."
If they make him feel brave, maybe the opposite really could be true.]
You too? [He finally asks, his voice quiet, edging on cautious. He knows the answer already.] Feeling brave?
[ She nods quietly, holding his hand. If all the kings and queens of the past had their own way of ruling and ways of what it means to be royal, then he can certainly make his own.
The way in which he is strong is the way he makes others strong. Perhaps that can be literal, but it's also this: by way of influencing and inspiring others through his goodness and courage. ]
When I'm with you, always.
[ This is very true-- he's gotten her to actually be brave enough to speak a little of her past with him. And that takes an immense amount of courage on her part. Furthermore, just knowing that there are those like him in the world with that goodness within them only makes her want to protect the world more. It pushes her to be more determined in her own goal, of trying to preserve the future for those like him to have.
...And that he still wishes to understand a power that can hurt him truly speaks to her. ]
[For once his reaction is not fluster and embarrassment, or denial, not even so much as a blush. He doesn't deny her words or her answer, or protest her ability to admit things so easily to someone like him. He takes in the words, turns them over in his head thoughtfully, and instead he looks serious, very serious. His expression shifts as if considering something for the first time, his gaze fixed on her.
He opens his mouth once, reconsiders. Does it again and clams up tightly. The words in his head wrestle with his mouth's willingness to say them; once they're out, he can't take them back.]
I want cake, [is what he says, finally, his gaze shifting away from her and looking ahead into the dark of the street beyond where they're sitting.] Some really irresponsible and disgustingly sugary cake for dinner. You in?
[ For the few moments where he appears to be about to say something, she looks on at him attentively, but patiently, waiting for him to speak...
In the end, he moves on from whatever had crossed his mind, and she decides to respectfully follow. It's a bizarre suggestion, however, and she takes a moment to consider his suggestion. ] Cake....for dinner?
[He accepts her hand up without hesitation, a little wobbly on his bad leg for the first few steps after sitting still for so long, but otherwise undeterred. He gives her hand a squeeze - hopeful that it might convey the whole... everything of what he's feeling right now, knowing it to be insufficient but lacking a way to express it otherwise - and tugs lightly, leading the way back to his place.
Strawberry cakes, he's decided, are definitely on the menu right now. Everything else can wait. They've got time.]
[ At first she thinks he has some sort of restaurant or cafe in mind, but instead he leads her towards the residential distract. Has she ever been to where he lives before? No, but that makes it all the more exciting. ]
Um, Noct. [ Her tone is one he's heard before: that of her having a question. After a beat or two passes, she voices the lingering intention: ] I have a question.
[ Knowing that he'll allow her to speak, she does. ]
What we did... just now. Was it helpf-- it's... not hurting you, is it?
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It is her smile that greets him, pride shining in her eyes for him for what he’s managed to do. Even unraveling a single signature of that energy is a feat, and she wants to say as much— and perhaps give a suggestion that they celebrate the accomplishment in some way— but then she notices the wetness upon his cheeks. He had been crying...?
Cue her concern coming into full play— ]
Oh— oh, Noct, I— [ Didn’t notice. ] Are you alright? How are you feeling? [ The hand that had been upon his shoulder lifts to his cheek, feeling the remnant of tears. Her gaze remains questioning, did something happen? ]
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I'm fine… I'm okay. I don't know why that...
[Okay, that's not true. He can definitely guess why he'd be randomly weeping like a fool out of nowhere like this.]
I guess it- I mean, something must have carried through. Two thousand years just sounds like a big number, you don't really feel the weight of it by just talking about it.
[They've been waiting so long. It had been nothing to say before- he'd joked about it to Gladio, how he was worth the wait. What a terrible thing to say in retrospect.]
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Wiping his eyes, embarrassed like that makes him seem... sweet. She admires that he able to feel so strongly, that he has the capacity to feel this for his magic, this legacy, to accept it despite the strain it causes, to continue to want to understand what it has to offer and teach him. Dammit Noctis, you’re going to make her cry, and she’s not even sure why! Maybe out of happiness, for him and for his magic, as if they had come together in a reunion.
He had asked her how to be brave, once, but with an outcome like this? It’s hard to believe he’s ever truly feared it. It would be a massive amount of projection on her part that maybe this power appreciates he can feel for it; she knows she would have... And she still would.
Sighing again, she leans forward to bring him into a hug, head tucked over his shoulder as she whispers, ] You really are.... incredibly good. I’m sure your new power appreciates you communing with it after so long. It was beautiful to witness.
[ His heart is grand, empathetic and strong, to be effected like this, shedding tears for an ancient power that has been waiting for millennia. ]
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He briefly hesitates at her words, letting the distraction of the hug buy him time; he could tell her. It might help, if she understood the weight of what he's trying to accomplish here. But without knowing what she already knows, and the fact that she lives with Somnus? That might be too much. Maybe if his ancestor gave the okay, but so much of this stuff had been a family secret that he's not sure what's fair to say or not.
Finally, he opts to just nod, his chin bumping lightly against her shoulder.]
I don't know about all of that, but... I hope so.
1/3
Pulling out of the embrace, her smile remains as she searched his expression. She was going to say that they should celebrate, but he looks completely exhausted. Her gaze drops to the ring upon his finger. ] ...It’s pretty heavy, isn’t it?
[ Especially with the weight of this magic for two thousand years—— ]
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And there's this Crystal, something my family's been guarding for thousands of years, that was given to us by the gods- it powers our magic...
He was given a ring from the gods that only a king of Lucis could wear.
When a king or queen of Lucis dies, their weapon retains the power they had while they were alive. Then the ones still living can visit their tombs and gain that power...
It was made for the royal family, and the line's all about building on top of the previous generations, gathering power from those who came before.
And finally:
Magic's kind of... busy. It's hard to hear what it's trying to say, it's just one big noise all blurring together.
Two thousand years just sounds like a big number, you don't really feel the weight of it by just talking about it.
............All of this combined with what she has felt from his magic, in addition to knowing that Somnus has somehow stayed conscious and watching the world despite being dead for millennia—
Oh. ]
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......It’s... very.... heavy....
[ Oh goodness when he had said noisy, did he mean it literally, she can’t even imagine— No, no, that can’t be true. But it must be! What else makes sense? She wants to ask, the question is burning upon her tongue, but maybe it’s something she shouldn’t ask about! Surely he would have said something before if he wanted her to know? And, and they did this much tonight, clearly she doesn’t need any of her questions verified for her to help him!
Yet, she’s staring at his hand as if he’s wearing five rings, and when her eyes snap up to meet his, she’s looking at him as if he has two heads. ]
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...Ah. Maybe he gave it away, after all. He leans back, lifting his hand to look at the ring. It's gone dormant, no longer glowing, and for now is also quiet, but there's no denying that constant thrum of immense power contained within the metal. He hadn't been very subtle, so maybe there was no way around it, purely due to him involving her in this.
Hopefully Somnus won't mind.]
You felt it too, huh.
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Two thousand years, and none of them asleep, all waiting for him...
Would it have been more merciful for them to sleep? ]
I— ....I’m... shocked. [ Her brow knits, and she looks away in worry. It’s one thing to have your family with you, and she’s expect his extensive ancestry to be helpful, not a hinderance; alleviating, not a burden. But it seems that this is something that causes him to be both wary and weary. She’s amazed at what this ring is, yes, but more than that— ] A... whole dynasty’s power and knowledge just on your fingers... [ And he’s already powerful enough already. ] You... are meant to carry them by yourself?
[ She really, desperately hopes he’s shared this burden in some way with his friends. Yet it is a testament to his own strength that he hasn’t collapsed. That, or he’s very good at hiding the toll it takes. ]
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No one else could do it. This ring… it kills people. Doesn't matter how good or heroic they might be, all that matters to the souls inside are what counts as worthy. Or whose blood you have. Only the line of Lucis can wear it.
[He thinks of Nyx, who did so much to save Insomnia, protected Luna, fought tooth and nail for a country that all but abandoned his homeland, for a king who looked selfish while thinking of what the world needed. He'd done so much and the ring still stole his life when it was all over. The unfairness of it is wretched.]
Luna carried it for me until she got here, and I know it hurt her. I won't let that happen to anyone else.
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"It kills people."
"I know it hurt her." ]
Has it... hurt you?
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Not... in any way that's tangible.
[Not yet, at least. Any lie would be hopelessly transparent, so he doesn't try, even if the truth is left unspoken. The hurt doesn't show; it's not a wound to be healed or an illness to treat. It hasn't truly pained him beyond the agony of that first wearing, and even that hadn't been formal, more a flaw that lies in him than the nature of the ring. His father's shock made it clear that such pain wasn't normal. The rest is just noise, headaches born from his inability to listen effectively.
It's subtle. It's the future, what's going to happen, once he starts using it. It's his dad's hair gone grey too young, hiding from public view so Noct wouldn't see him struggling to walk with a cane in his mid-forties. It's the death of a thousand cuts and the two-short lifespan of every royal who came before.]
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She's about to ask him what he needs this ring for, but it's an answer he's already given, and words she has already said to him: "With more power you can... protect what you wish to protect. Who you wish to protect. The sunrise you saw that day, is that part of the future you wish to safeguard?"
"...Yeah, of course."
He already seems to accept that bearing this ring is necessary to use to protect those for whom he cares; he's acknowledged this as a truth. ] Seeing the dawn with your friends... it is worth calling upon the power of this ring, isn't it? If you had to.
[ However, it's not that over which he's melancholy, she thinks, but that-- what? What is she's missing, that it makes him more isolated, because it's something he can only bear alone? Or that he's not doing it effectively enough? Or that he hadn't done this sooner? ] I only wish that you didn't have to [ She struggles to find a word, but then ends up with this: ] punished for it. [ That's what it seems like to her. Maybe power should have pain as a deterrent so that it may not be abused, but she could never see Noct as being among the type that would. ]
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[He takes off the ring and draws back enough that he won't risk her brushing up against it while he's holding it - he can't help his own paranoia, though it's less frightening when it's on his finger. With his free hand he pulls a chain off from around his neck and threads it through.]
Watching my dad, I grew up knowing this would happen one way or another- there's always been a price for using the ring, even for us. Bet most of the old kings barely hit middle age.
[He shoots her a brief but meaningful look; she lives with Somnus, she knows how young he looks in death. Younger than most, granted, but he'd had a lot that needed doing in his time.]
Anybody would be scared of dying... that's normal. But putting it on meant stepping up, really taking over after my dad. Being king. It meant that he's actually gone, that I'd feel it.
[His fingers rub idly over the surface of the ring. Barely a minute after it's off his finger and he already feels better. How his father endured it for as long as he did, he has no idea.]
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She hears him fine clink if the metal of the ring against the chain, and her attention lifts to it, then to him. From what he’s saying, those of his line do not live long. Somnus looks young, and she presumes him to be in his thirties. Noctis is twenty. That gives him ten, fifteen more years to live at least....
That’s so— little. She looks at him, aghast. He has so very little time, and if this power is hurting him, then is she really helping with what she’s doing here? ]
Do you... feel like a king? Wearing it?
[ Has he ever felt like one? ]
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Finally, he shakes his head. There's no point in even debating it.]
I don't. It hasn't changed anything, not really. Just made my hand a little heavier. But it's not as if I have a choice, right? I'm not a kid anymore. Just because I'm not ready doesn't mean the world is gonna wait for me.
[He tucks his knees up, hugging them to his chest- a little childish, despite his words, but what does it really matter, here.]
I guess… it's why I don't hate it here. So much has happened that's put me in better shape to do what I'm supposed to- I've had time to train, and learn about the ring from Dad, and meet Somnus and Ardyn for real. And have fun, too. [He offers her a little smile, a proper one this time.] Even if I went home tomorrow, I'm better off than I was. I keep telling myself that, and it helps.
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[ Attempting to be like them, to do as they did, will do little to help him besides inspiration. They must have had their own circumstances to dictate their decisions. He did not live in their time, and they are not living in his. He cannot continue to dance as they did. ]
The kind of king you wish to be... [ With no kingdom at that, but with close friends, with brothers, with the light at his fingertips. As he's said, he has this opportunity here to help him. It shows in his small smile he attempts to form for her, and her expression becomes less sorrowful as a result. The world brightens when he smiles. ] You have to decide it for yourself. It can be different from them....
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She had been intent on letting her suggestion stop then and there, but she realizes something then-- something that urges her to speak more. Her hand squeezes his, and in a hushed tone she speaks: ] And... I think I you're already on that path.
[ She lets that linger, swallowing something in her throat, and then starts again. ] Somnus built a kingdom, your father built a wall... These bring safety.
[ He wants to keep those he cherishes safe. That is why he needs this power. But he's different from the both of those previous kings in that manner, not for the physical safety they bring, but something quite intangible. And she feels he needs to know this, how he diverges from them, surpasses them in his own way before he ever even donned the ring. ] I think that those whose lives you have touched don't need you to make them feel safe, Noct.
Because you make us feel brave... and that's even better.
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It reminds him of what Luna had said, not just recently but also when they were children: they were meant to work together, as a team, the king and his Oracle. Just as the king is always meant to have a Shield at his side, through the Amicitias. Just as a leader can't lead without a council or friends to support his decisions. Just as the Chosen has always been watched and guided by his Messenger. He's never truly been alone, even in his darkest moments. Those who support him make him feel brave, even when terror floods his heart, when the threat of death creeps up on him in waves.
"Remember- those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always."
"Please, come back soon! We need our king!"
"I hope you will not grow too tired of constantly having me at your side."
If they make him feel brave, maybe the opposite really could be true.]
You too? [He finally asks, his voice quiet, edging on cautious. He knows the answer already.] Feeling brave?
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The way in which he is strong is the way he makes others strong. Perhaps that can be literal, but it's also this: by way of influencing and inspiring others through his goodness and courage. ]
When I'm with you, always.
[ This is very true-- he's gotten her to actually be brave enough to speak a little of her past with him. And that takes an immense amount of courage on her part. Furthermore, just knowing that there are those like him in the world with that goodness within them only makes her want to protect the world more. It pushes her to be more determined in her own goal, of trying to preserve the future for those like him to have.
...And that he still wishes to understand a power that can hurt him truly speaks to her. ]
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He opens his mouth once, reconsiders. Does it again and clams up tightly. The words in his head wrestle with his mouth's willingness to say them; once they're out, he can't take them back.]
I want cake, [is what he says, finally, his gaze shifting away from her and looking ahead into the dark of the street beyond where they're sitting.] Some really irresponsible and disgustingly sugary cake for dinner. You in?
[Next time. Maybe, next time.]
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In the end, he moves on from whatever had crossed his mind, and she decides to respectfully follow. It's a bizarre suggestion, however, and she takes a moment to consider his suggestion. ] Cake....for dinner?
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Absolutely!
[ Here, she scoots away from him, standing before offering him a hand to help him up. ]
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Strawberry cakes, he's decided, are definitely on the menu right now. Everything else can wait. They've got time.]
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Um, Noct. [ Her tone is one he's heard before: that of her having a question. After a beat or two passes, she voices the lingering intention: ] I have a question.
[ Knowing that he'll allow her to speak, she does. ]
What we did... just now. Was it helpf-- it's... not hurting you, is it?
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