Warnings: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, mention of implied homophobia
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“It’s okay, Noctis.”
Nyx wanted to be reassuring. He wanted to pretend that this was exactly what they had talked about for hours before— royal duties, royal expectations, the reality of Noctis’ position as Crown Prince— and that the agreement they had settled on was still wholly, completely, and unequivocally “fine.” He wanted to pretend that his world wasn’t just about to collapse around him, and the year that he had wanted to stretch for longer— to some unforeseeable future he was just starting to feel hope for— wasn’t coming to a screeching, crashing halt.
“We knew it’d happen sooner or later, right? We talked about this.”
It wasn’t even a marriage proposal. It was an order. It was a condition of peace that would end a war while letting Insomnia carry on with its idea that its peace was somehow universal. It was some line in a treaty that could have been buried beneath thousands of other conditions in the agreement.
It was a twist of the knife in the sides of the royal family just as Nyx thought they might have more time together.
“I know, I know,” Noctis hadn’t taken it well.
He hadn’t railed at the unfairness of it. He hadn’t rushed from the Court or Council rooms when told. He hadn’t done more than school his features from surprise to aloof acceptance and offered a response that had been scripted for him since he was old enough to talk.
Nyx had watched the reaction from the break room at the guard post at the Gate. He had felt his heart drop as the Lucians around him smiled and spoke about their Prince as if they knew him. He listened to their remarks with his own trained expression in place, stony and blank, as the rage boiled beneath him. The guards had acted as if this was even Noctis’ choice.
Noctis hadn’t left his arms all night. Face buried against his should and his grief silent between them as Nyx tried to soothe away his own anger enough to keep them both calm.
They had talked about this in hypotheticals; Lucis didn’t like change. It didn’t push at Noctis to follow in the steps of his father and marry young. But it wouldn’t just accept the Prince’s inclinations without question when there was a dynasty at stake.
“We should elope,” Noctis muttered to the dark, empty apartment with the uncaring chaos of the city outside the thin walls. Somewhere, closer to the clean streets of the Lucian nobility, people were probably celebrating the engagement announcement. “Can’t get married if I’m already married, right?”
He wanted to immediately bring them back to reality. To joke that he liked his head attached to his body.
Instead, Nyx smiled and relaxed back, eyes wandering over the little apartment he wasn’t really that attached to. The dancing line of smoke from his little memorial the only thing that he felt meant anyone lived there.
“Run off to some little cabin together? I hunt, you fish?”
“Yes.”
“And when Lucis comes calling?”
“I’m still the Prince, I’ll tell them to fuck off.” He could hear the little smile forming in Noctis’ voice; he could feel the way Noctis’ shoulders seemed to loose their tension as the idea hung over them. Below them, the bar Nyx had once thought was a familiar comfort was pounding reality into the background of their fantasy. He could imaging falling asleep to the sounds of a forest around them instead, maybe a storm beating at some ragged little hunter’s cabin north of the Vesperpool, right at the edge between Lucis and Galahd. Where they could be lost for days. Where the forest grew so thick and wild they could feel like they were the only people in all of Eos.
It was a good dream.
“It will be okay, little star.”
“Will you still be here when I get back?”
Nyx didn’t know. His gut already twisted at the thought of seeing Noctis return with a wife on his arm. Of seeing Noctis used like a pawn the same way the Oracle was. He didn’t even know how the Oracle would manage her own regular duties when also acting as a Queen of Lucis, and a representative of Niflheim (because Nyx had no doubt in his mind that she was going to be dragged through the ceremony as a pawn, just like Noctis). But he knew the Nifs, and he knew that they had a motive for this that had nothing to do will an alliance or love story or whatever else the news seemed to want to spin it.
He wanted to say yes. That he would always be there for Noctis no matter what. That they could work out the details later and just be happy where they could be. He wanted to say that it had only been a year. A year as of yesterday, when the engagement was announced, really.
He didn’t want to lie. Not to Noctis.
“We should elope,” Nyx said instead. “I know this great spot out in the middle of nowhere. My Pa’s old hunting cabin.”
Nyx wished they could have just run off that night. That they had the courage and foresight to say goodbye to the world that they had known before it came crashing down on them.
“Perhaps,” Ignis said as he surveyed the damage done to Noctis’ formerly pristine kitchen; “we should try something a little less ambitious?”
The sauce was the worst of it. Aside from the smell of the sugary, packaged monstrosity— Ignis had on good authority most Galahdians would rather swallow their own tongues before even touching the brown good that needed to be watered down and reworked to be palatable— it had started to cling to every available surface where it landed. He assumed the package had burst before Noctis could really use it, judging by the way the mess seemed to start from a bag of unusable groceries. A carton of cherry tomatoes, a head of lettuce, and a collection of baby carrots had been the casualties in this continued war Noctis had declared against unfamiliar cuisine.
The text that had summoned him had been simple— “Please help, bring veggies”.
Ignis had wanted to joke that he nearly brought a doctor as well until he had found Noctis in his kitchen and at a loss of how to save whatever meal he had been planning.
“It was skewers! What the hell is less ambitious than meat on a stick?”
The meat, mercifully, was unharmed in the violent suicide of the pre-packaged sauce. “I see. Well, let’s start with the basics then. Where’s the meat?”
“In the fridge,” Noctis pulled up the recipe from his phone, the step-by-steps laid out in perfect, simplistic precision. “I’m at the vegetable step.”
“That’s not so bad,” Ignis set down the bag of groceries he had brought, mind already working through the alternatives based on the recipe and what he had taken from his own better stocked supplies on instinct. At least the sauce had the decency to explode in the relative confines of it’s own bag. “Get the tomatoes and carrots out of your bag and set them in the sink, please.”
“And the rest, Specs?”
“The lettuce and peppers are a lost cause, but I have an idea. Did you follow the seasoning steps exactly?” He could see the blend on the counter— little jars pulled from the inconspicuous shelf only Ignis had ever seemed to use, lids popped open and the measuring spoons cross contaminated and likely used to stir the dry mixture in the little bowl nearby.
“Yeah, it’s just the sauce.”
“We can remedy that,” Ignis offered a smile and examined the ruined bag and the slowly seeping puddle of sauce beneath it. “Wash those off as best you can. I’ll dispose of this and be right back.”
A nod and Noctis set to the task of salvaging what Ignis assumed would be less than half of the intended serving of vegetables as depicted in the recipe. As he delivered the ruined and dripping bag to the garbage chute down the hallway with a silent plea for forgiveness, Ignis smiled to himself and wondered if that may have been part of Noctis’ plan. He stepped out quickly to the corner store for the few necessities for a real sauce that he knew Noctis would not keep in stock and returned to find the balcony opened, and the Crown Prince of Lucis on his knees in the kitchen as he attempted to dab up the sticky mess of terrible sauce with paper towels.
“I’ll see to that, Noct; how are the veggies?”
“I washed them off and put what I can save aside. What now?”
“Now, we make a sauce.”
It was easier to replace the smell of the package with something fresh. The blend of spices a fragrant cloud over the kitchen as he set Noctis to measuring, stirring, and tasting from the little pot. Ignis handled the rest with far more practised hands but at Noctis’ direction.
“Read off the recipe, would you?”
“It says to alternate as desired on the skewer.”
“Do you know Nyx’s preference?”
“He likes the meat better,” Noctis said without hesitation, staring at the sauce as it bubbled happily away until he could decide if it was at the consistency he wanted. “I was going to do meat-meat-veggie-meat-meat.”
“And for a side?” Ignis followed the pattern, the tomatoes the only vegetable salvaged, though he can see why Noctis had chosen the bright peppers.
“Just a salad. The blog for the recipe suggested using the same vegetables as on the skewer.”
“As it should,” Ignis agreed, “however with the circumstances, put on a half serving of rice. It’s really only for show at this point. You did wonderfully on this seasoning, Noct.”
Ignis showed him how to brush the sauce across the skewers before they went under the broiler. And set the timer as he stepped back to finish cleaning the mess from earlier. He watched Noctis’ careful attention to detail as he prepared the vegetables to add to the plates in lieu of a salad, and separated the sauce to flavour the rice at plating without sacrificing on what would be available for dipping later. Once calm and the elements in place, Noctis was just fine in the kitchen.
“Timer, Noct.”
“Right.”
Mostly.
Setting things out in place was easy enough, the table set for two, the remnants cleaned, and the dessert in Ignis’ hands once he saw the panic at Noctis’ realization that he had forgotten the dessert.
Setting the little ramekins into the ovens, Ignis stepped back to admire the covered dishes in place on the table and the Galahdian wine Noctis was letting breathe before serving. “I suppose Nyx will be here any moment?”
Noctis checked his phone for the telltale text and nodded, “Just leaving the station, he says.”
“Then I’ll leave you to the rest. Please remember to loosed the sides of the crème caramels before attempting to serve them.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Specs. I’m not completely inept in the kitchen.”
“No, you really are not. Enjoy your date, I do not want the details in the morning.”
By the time Nyx arrived just moments after Ignis had slipped away from the apartment, the desserts were cooling in the fridge. And Noctis was practically pacing with his phone in hand by the table. Boots off, Nyx slipped into the apartment proper with a grin and impressed whistle at the spread set out for him.
“What’s all this?” Nyx wasted no time in scooping Noctis up for a kiss, the lingering anxieties easing out of the Prince’s shoulders in a small victory Nyx would always count in his favour. “Did you do all this, little star?”
“I had Iggy’s help…”
“It smells amazing,” reaching around Noctis, Nyx grabbed the wine; “You’re amazing.”
“Looks like you got royal fare to see to.” Crowe elbowed Nyx as she jerked her head towards the entrance of The Canyon. There stood Nox, leaning against the wall and chatting with Luche with an easy smile.
Nyx perked up at the sight of his husband. “You’re back!” He left the rag he’d been using to clean one of the tables where it was to hurry over to Nox, slipping by Luche in order to swing Nox into his arms, and dipping him for a kiss to the cheers and whistles of everyone inside the restaurant. “I missed you.” Nyx whispered as he straightened them up and pressed more kisses across Nox’s cheeks.
Nox laughed, the slightest of blush making him look that much cuter. “I missed you too Nyx.”
“Get a room you two!” Libertus shouted from the kitchen. Nox rolled his eyes and, without looking, flipped him the bird. Laughter echoed through the dining room as Nox decided to drag Nyx outside with an excited glint in his eyes.
Nyx followed along, smiling adoringly as his husband twinned their hands together as they started walking through the village. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.” Nox said, “So I got Dad to lend me the Regalia.” Nyx tilted his head sideways in confusion which made Nox laugh as he tugged Nyx along. “Here. This is the Regalia.” Nox presented with a wave of his hand.
Nyx felt his jaw drop as he was introduced to the sleekest, and likely most expansive, car he’d ever seen outside of Tredd’s magazines. “And your dad just lent it to you?” Nyx reached out to touch the black finish almost reverently. It was burning hot from the Galahdian sun, making Nyx jerk his hand back with a hiss. Nox chuckled as he watched Nyx start walking around the convertible.
After a few minutes of Nyx being awed by the design and sleekness of the car, along with the growing interest from the other inhabitants that had been watching them, Nox caught Nyx’s attention. “Want to drive it?” Nox grinned as he showed his husband the keys teasingly.
The look of sheer surprise and want, something that Nox usually only saw when he was teasing his husband and goading him into being rough with him, set a low warmth in his chest. Like an excited coeurl with a new interesting prey, Nyx perked up, “Can I?”
Nox smiled and threw him the keys. “Go for it. Just try not to wreck it. Dad will never let me live it down if you did.” Nyx caught the keys, nodding eagerly and quickly sliding into the driver seat. Nox smiled as he slid into the passenger side, watching with fondness as Nyx slid his hands over the console and played with all the knobs until he was comfortable with it all.
He reached across the console and put a hand on Nyx’s leg, “Bring me home?”
