In a twisted turn of fate, Nyx survived the Ring and accompanied Lunafreya on her journey to Altissia despite her constant insistance that he did not own it to anyone — not even King Regis — to do this. He'd done more than enough in service of Lucis, if the scars running along the whole of his left side is an indicator to go by — but truth to be told, Nyx wasn't sure what he would do with himself beyond duty.
She'd attempted to convince him of it several more times after that, all straight-talking and determined. The Princess, as it turned out, was a hell lot more stubborn than anyone realised. A trait easily overlooked, hidden beneath her exterior of regal bearing and well-trained composure — and one that Nyx couldn't help but picked up on amongst a myriad of other quirks Lunafreya harbored throughout their journey: for instance, the way she only snored when she was really tired, soft little sounds the existence of which she denied upon waking; or the constellations of beauty marks dotting across her face and body, like markers of treasure begging to be explored, each one a fascinating yet painfully mundane reminder of how human she was in spite of the magic burning through her, giving life to so many yet leaving none for herself.
He knew that feeling well, Nyx thought, the kind that made you feel powerful and helpless all at once, coursing through your veins and channeling at the tips of your fingers before spreading all over, warm at first, then scorching, burning you inside out — a kind of blessing and torture he would not wish on anyone else. For many years of his adulthood he'd chosen it willingly, been in control of it, even, allowed to choose when and where and how to burn.
He could not imagine what it was like for Lunafreya, living with that fire all her life, knowing one day it would reduce her to nothing but ashes.
He was angry, yes — at fate, at the Astrals and the Old Kings and Regis, at Noctis, at Lunafreya.
But mostly, he was angry at himself, watching this woman whose palms fit warm and soft in his own walk closer to her death every day with no power to stop it. They both knew had the roles been reversed, he would have done the same thing without regret — and that was what made it harder, this shared understanding of duty and responsibility, the cold hard truth of one life worth sacrificing for billion others.
It didn't mean he had to be at peace with it. Every time Lunafreya tried to hide her cough, or the tremour in her hands that made it increasingly difficult to hold her trident, he wanted to rage and scream and summon all who had a say in deciding that she was forsaken, that her sacrifice in particular was necessary to save the world.
But he could do none of that, or at the very least, not in a way that actually worthed a damn.
So Nyx stayed quiet and held Lunafreya in his arms, hoping against hope, that whatever little time she had left in this mortal world, she would not feel alone.
・・・・・・・・・・・・
➢【 Artist: 2hika on X 】
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See, logically, I understand why Luna headed towards Regis first, but it's still hilarious to me that she just ran past her brother while he was literally on fire and writhing and screaming in pain.
This takes place at the end of Kingsglaive. I basically tweaked the ending because heck, why not? Luna can use magic, has a touch of playful sass, and Nyx gets pretty emotional. In other words…it’s a self-indulgent Lunyx blip.
After this moment, this experience, this…connection. I will send you off on your way. I will make it on my own from here. So kiss me. Kiss me with all you are right now.
Nyx Ulric hissed in pain as he gripped his leg, the long fall and slamming on the magitek armour probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to distract the enemy, but she came through in the end. He heard quick and rapid footsteps running towards him, Nyx craned his neck to see Lunafreya running over by his side and helping him up.
“Can you walk?” She asked him with a worried tone.
Nyx tested his bruised leg and gritted his teeth “It’ll pass.”
Lunafreya shook her head “That’s not good enough.”
“Princess, it’s okay-”
But Lunafreya wasn’t paying him any attention, she was looking around for something and then gripped his arm.
“We need to get inside that building.” She pointed to the building just down and across the road.
It was one of the buildings that didn’t have debris in front of the entrance or have completely turned to rubble. Nyx turned to her and gave her a questioning look, her gaze was worried, but her eyes were firm.
He looks at her like wants to kiss her and forget that she’s the princess and forget that she’s betrothed. He wants to kiss her and show her exactly how much he loves her, intimately, slowly, wholly, but he can’t. And he’s holding himself from saying the words because it can never be. He doesn’t say it back because it won’t make a difference. Better to hold his tongue than break his heart. So he stares at her. Traces the way her mouth says the word and cherishes it. He memorizes how her voice sounds like, the way she looked at him when she said that. He remembers, adores it, revels in it and then he lets it go. Because he’s nothing but a glaive. And she’s the princess. The world’s Oracle. The future’s bride to be. The queen. And he never says the words back.
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