@monarchborn from here
Out of all things that could happen, Regis had never expected this. Weskham had contacted him, but since he had been worried about potential spies overhearing their conversation, he hadn't actually said much - only that it was important.
Now he was sitting on a chair by a bed that currently held a son he hadn't known existed until some hours ago. The poor boy had been in pain, so he was a bit drugged up at the moment, but apparently not enough to not ask questions.
"I believe so, dear boy," he offered, voice gentle. "I'm sure it's quite the surprise – it is for me as well, but do not worry. There is no time like the present to get to know each other," he would not turn his son away, no matter how he was conceived. He may have made an unwise choice, considering his position, but Arctus should not suffer for it.
"We will figure it out. For now, rest as much as you need. We will take care of you here.
Arctus moved stiffly in the bed, trying to sit up straight and look less pitiful. This whole situation had been embarrassing enough without looking like a little kid.
“I knew, mom said she never told you so we could stay in Altissia,” He said. “It’s good to know it was true though. I always assumed you were just a jerk and mom wanted me to think better of you.”
He sighed, and stopped himself just in time from leaning back onto the hospital bed. Having a back wound sucked.
“Will I be leaving the hospital soon? Like, at least going somewhere else to visit. It can’t be super safe for you visiting a government location in Altissia,” He said. “I know Niflhiem hasn’t tried anything with political visits yet, but they still kind of suck. And we’ll be planning to go to Insomnia too, right? Or am I gonna stay with Weskham.”
Luna peers through the open door. Noctis is fast asleep, doubtlessly exhausted from the healing ceremony; and his father, the King, sits steadfast at his bedside. He seems tired - and something else Luna can't quite identify. She slips in quietly and pads over to a spare chair in the corner of the room
It makes a loud, unpleasant scraping sound as Luna pushes it along the floor, having to shift all her weight into it. But she manages, bringing the chair to a stop by Regis and climbing onto it. She is quiet at first, folding her hands on her knees as her legs hang off the side, staring down at Noctis.
❝He will be okay,❞ Luna promises, reaching out and patting Regis on the arm. ❝My Mama's the best healer there is.❞ She looks at Noctis for a moment longer, then up at Regis. ❝You've been here a while. Are you hungry? Or thirsty? Do you want something to read? We have a lot of books.❞
He had spent years hating the man who had given his home to its oppressors. Mors. And then Regis did nothing to fix it. To take back their homes. He threw his men out there to die while he stayed safe and comfortable within his walls with his son. He didn't care for them. Or so Titus had assumed.
And yet...
Regis had made efforts to be closer to him, even shown some romantic interest. Titus had been irritated by it at first, but saw an opportunity to solidify his position there. And with more time spent with the man came more information. He'd expected it to solidify his feelings of hate and bitterness if anything. But, to his surprise, he found himself understanding instead.
His son was destined to die to save the world.
His favoritism made more sense, and even Titus had to begrudgingly admit that saving the world as a whole from darkness and daemons was more of a priority than taking back their homes. He still had a lot of issues with how Regis handled it all, but he found his hate cooling.
Eventually, it has all come to this.
They were both in Regis' office, alone, when Titus spoke.
It was like some sick, twisted nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. He was a Lucis Caelum – the son of Regis Lucis Caelum. They hunted vampires. They weren't supposed to become them. He'd hidden himself away in his room for weeks, barely surfacing. It was his irrational hope that if he didn't allow himself to feed, then somehow the process wouldn't be completed – that he'd go back to being human.
He knew that it didn't work like that. He knew that once you became a vampire there was no going back. He knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it because that would be game over for him. He was the heir to a clan of some of the most high prolific hunters in the world. What would they do when they found out that one of their own had become a monster.
It was getting harder and harder though. The pain of his hunger was excruciating and no amount of human food could combat it. He was growing weak and sickly – he hadn't left his room at all in the last three days. The servant had only been trying to help him. He had asked him if he was feeling well, and offered to bring him something to eat or drink.
Noctis had killed him. He'd turned around and tore him apart, draining him until there was nothing left. Then he just sat there on his bed, face covered in blood and dead body on the floor. He wasn't sure how long he'd sat there before his father arrived. Noctis bolted upright, staring at him with wide, wild eyes and frantically shook his head. He couldn't hut him too.
[ FIVE DEATHS ] send for five times our muses almost died together and the one time the sender does.
I -
"Get down!"
Godsdamn , the prince was going to get them both killed at this rate, he thought heatedly, shoving the older man to the ground, one hand on the back of his head to force it down. The sound of gunfire burst through the air. There was a sharp line of pain along his thigh as one grazed him. He was just glad for the rocky Accordan landscape that gave them some cover.
He turned his sharp glare on Clarus as the Shield caught up with them. "Keep him from doing something stupid," he growled, ignoring Regis' outraged sound beneath him as he rolled off of him, getting his feet under him, and bolting out toward their enemies.
II -
Why couldn't one of the tombs be in a nice, easy to reach place, just once? He was really getting sick of trudging around in dark, cold caves. Fighting daemons. Way too many fucking daemons.
"Ugh," Cor groaned, wiping flan slime off of himself as the last of the daemons faded to mist. But the sort of strange rumbling sound that he'd attributed to one of the daemons continued, and he looked around in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something, but the sound turned into a squawk as he was yanked back by the collar of his jacket. The sound built to deafening, things were shaking. The ceiling was coming down around them!
But nothing hit him.
He was curled up on the ground, arms over his head, and slowly raised it, looking around. Regis was crouched with him one hand up, a shield around them both keeping the settling rubble at bay. He met Regis' eyes, and they both blinked at each other for a second before Cor sighed and flopped onto his back.
"You owe me a vacation after all this."
Regis' laughter let Clarus find them, at least.
III -
It was probably a bad thing that he'd never mentioned he didn't know how to swim...
He'd never thought it was really that big of a deal. The Royal Yacht was a good ship, right? No big deal. Except, now, with a storm battering the little ship on their way to Tenebrae to find the last of the Royal Arms, he was really regretting that he'd never mentioned it. He was also really regretting that he was too stubborn to let anyone else know right now.
He wasn't entirely sure what happened. A wave, apparently. All he knew was that his feet weren't on the deck anymore. He was dragged into the deep water, tossed, disoriented. He didn't know which was was up, and the water was cold. He floundered, frantic, his lungs already beginning to burn. He'd not had a chance to get a good breath before he'd been swept off.
And then someone was grabbing him. He very nearly elbowed him in the face before he realized what was going on. He was dragged up until his head broke the surface and he could breathe again. Regis had a hold of him, shouting at him to hold on over the wind and rain. He was tying a rope around both of them.
IV -
It wasn't often that Regis got to leave Insomnia anymore. Not since Mors had died and he'd become King. It would have been nice little vacation, heading out with Cor while Clarus watched over things in the Crown City. Would have been. Except Regis' desire to go fishing had ended up with them nearly getting trampled by a catoblepas. Their little fishing boat was crushed, and both of them were thrown into the water. It wasn't that deep, though, which worked to Cor's benefit - but not Regis', as the king's head struck a rock and knocked him out. Cor had to drag him away from the angry animal.
Clarus had some choice words for them when they'd gotten back to the capital.
V -
Cor had a room at the Citadel. If he wanted, he could have an apartment there, to live there, but he didn't want it. But there was a room reserved for his use on days he stayed to late or for whatever other reason. He was glad the night he flopped into the bed in that room, though, when something woke him in the night. He couldn't find any reason for it. Something just felt off. He'd taken the chance to go walk around, taking a look around.
The door to Regis' suite was open. Dread sank into the pit of his stomach as he stepped forward, moving slowly, quietly.
The assassin was beside Regis' bed when Cor threw himself at them. The ensuing scuffle woke the king.
It ended with Regis sporting a cut across his cheek, Cor stabbed in the thigh, and the assassin dead.
Cor had looked over at Regis, in the silence that followed, and then rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm getting too old for this."
I -
He was positive now that transfering him and the Crownsguard to the city shortly before the treaty had been a strategic decision. Whether it was because he had wanted to ensure Cor would survive the fallout, or if it was because he trusted Cor more than others to save as many of the citizens as possible, he didn't know. He didn't really want to know. A part of him was just angry that Regis had done that to him. Had made him live instead of letting him remain beside him.
Where he was supposed to be.
Cor picked his way through the ruined Citadel, There was a part of him that didn't want to be there, didn't want to find what he knew he would. But he had to see for himself.
The body was lying at the center of a hall. Alone. Cor's chest tightened at the sight. There was a differencce between knowing it and seeing it for himself. He hestitated, and then stepped closer slowly, sinking to his knees beside the body. His King. His friend.
He reached out and pulled Regis into his arms, bent over him, struggling against the tightness in his throat. He knew he couldn't stay there long, but the thought of leaving Regis there like that tore at his heart. He hated the idea of having to leave him there. Hated that he hadn't been there with him. He should have been there. He should have died with him.
Cor had been beside him for years. It wasn't fair for Regis to go somewhere he couldn't follow.
Luna's room within the citadel has always been more of a welcoming gesture than a place of her own, as she prefers to sleep at home. Yet these past nights as the visions come more vividly, she finds herself afraid to sleep at all, let alone leave these hallowed halls.
It is no less frightening every time, awakening into the dark of night and somehow knowing that it is not meant for her to see. This is a mistake, and likely the consequences would be severe. But Luna cannot think of those, not knowing all that is to come.
She opens the door into the Citadel's private gardens, praying the fresh air shall clear her mind. She does not expect to find the King there also, and her heart sinks. How is she to face him, knowing she shall one day fail his son? Knowing that he, who has been as a second father to her all these years, shall soon meet his end within these very walls? Luna knows she needs to tell someone. She knows she will be believed. But this happy life of hers will come to an end as soon as she speaks those words aloud, and she is not ready for it.
She hesitates, wondering briefly if she ought to sneak back inside. But the door is loud and heavy, and she does not doubt she has been heard. So instead Luna offers a quiet, ❝Your Majesty. My apologies, I did not realise you were here.❞
It hadn't been difficult for the assassin to slip into the Citadel. They had men on the inside who made it possible, though Noctis hadn't been told who they were. He didn't need to know, they said. All he needed to know was his mission parameters and they were simple enough: kill King Regis then escape in the chaos.
Of course it hadn't gone to plan though.
He'd disguised himself as a member of the Kingsglaive using the uniform of a man they had captured a few weeks ago. That allowed him to get close to the King. They were just about to pass each other in the hallway when Noctis decided to strike, summoning a knife to hand before lunging at him.
The Shield had intercepted him before he was able to land the attack, and he was forced to the ground with a blade pressed against to his throat. It was at that point his hood fell down to reveal his face.
However brief that moment of hesitation from Clarus had been, it still stung. He was angry at his father, but did Clarus really think that he would hurt him? Fingers curling into fists so tight that his knuckles whitened, he glared at Clarus until he left the room. Would he have hesitated if it had been Cor to enter the room? Or Gladio? He doubted it.
"It's nice to see how little your Shield trusts me. It's not like he's known me my whole life." He was a man Noctis had always viewed as an uncle, but right now, he wasn't so sure. "Does he really think that I'd lay a hand on you? That I'd hurt you?"
He shook his head, clenching his fists once more before allowing his arms to fall to the side. It didn't surprise him that Ignis and Gladio had voiced their concerns, but they were just as bad as everyone else. They expected so much from him. They didn't understand the pressure he was under. They didn't understand how hard it was to juggle school and training and his princely duties.
"I'm not a little kid. They don't need to know what I get up to every second of every day. I don't have to explain myself to anyone." It wasn't like he was doing anything really bad. He wasn't causing trouble out in the city. He wasn't getting into fights. What was his father going to do, lock him up for underage drinking? "Don't act like you're worried about me. If you were, you wouldn't just make time for me when I'm in trouble. You're just worried I'll make you look bad."
Noctis averted his gaze a little as his father descended the steps from his throne, trying to ignore the way his heart ached as he struggled.
"Why does something have to have happened? Maybe I'm just a screwup."
