When the news of the fall of the Crown City had come, it had done so with an acuminate devastation, that shook every one of them to the core. It had been as it was with all tragedies: the possession of grief, the enumerating of loss. the search for solace in familiar comforts and ameliorating arms. Noctis hadn’t taken it well. And all in their company had rallied to his side. As they should have.
But Noctis was not the only person to have lost something. Ignis’s uncle was sure to have died. Prompto’s parents were unaccounted for. The king was confirmed dead. So, too, must his Shield be. It was a conclusion to be ascertained with certainty he wished couldn’t be true. But knew that it was.
Relief flooded him, a rushing tide in his veins, warm and palliative, and nothing in the whole wide would could have been more important, more significant to him than the sight of his little sister safe. Whole and intact.
He took a moment as he approached, looking her over with a careful smile which broadened further the more sure he was that it was her, that she was real, and that she was okay. A laugh escaped him as he scooped her up in his arms, crushing her to his chest, the botheration ameliorated by a hundred kisses he pressed to her cheek. “Hi, sprout,” he smiled grinned against her temple, before setting her down and ruffling her hair. “How about you take me around. Just the two of us. And we’ll talk, yeah?”
There’s another laugh, freer than the last, lighter than those past. It’s a relief that falls upon her like the gentle rainfall of monsoon seasons and washes away her worries like a stream leading to a river of emotions too big for a girl so young. She had been caught in its current, but his arms pull her out of the maelstrom of her own panic, and for a moment she thinks, selfishly: if the gods know what it is like to love, they’ll let him stay by my side.
Iris squeaks a surprised gasp of his name, tearful laughter blooming into giggles when he showers her with affections she had briefly feared forever lost the moment she watched her city fall. She doesn’t stop the tears this time, but their journey down her cheeks are short-lived under the joy beating and beating and beating by her breastbone. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here.
Once her feet touch the ground, she takes his hands and pulls at them, bringing him back close and marvelling at how easily they cover hers. It’s a reminder of the kind of world they were born into, of the throne his sword and shield were sworn to, of the duty that will inevitably bring upon her another loss she will have to endure. There’s new wounds across his knuckles, telltales of recent battles the crown’s magic couldn’t fully heal, and she takes a deep breath to count her blessings.
The knowledge of their mortality weighs heavy, but she allows herself a respite in the safety of his presence. When she pulls at his hands again, she’s already walking towards the bustling marketplace.
‘ Yeah...yeah! Come with me, I’ll show you around, okay? But you gotta tell me everything that’s been going on with you guys, too! I was really worried, you know? What kinda big bro leaves his sweet little sister waiting like that? Thought I got stood up. ’
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