the calm, the storm---

@littlequeenaulea, regis & aulea; royal wedding

“What about the people you save? What about the millions of people who give you their allegiance!”  The younger of the two slammed his hands on the table, angered that this man was just sitting there, drinking wine and having the lap of luxury around him at all times--- When his soldiers were out there dying. Giving their lives for a Kingdom that apparently whored itself to death. “What kind of King doesn’t want to hope for the future?” He knows he’s young, Regis doesn’t know everything, he doesn’t. He wasn’t so much sheltered as he was forgotten. At the wayside.  That was fine but he was still going to be King. When Mors died, Regis would be better. He had to be.  Regis realized his outburst was wrong, that he should trust him maybe. . . but that last line. “Do not talk to about Clarus that way. He is not a pretty little thing, he is my Shield. He is my friend.” Now he wants to fight all over again.

“You flatter me.” Regis replied, leaning a little closer. Open body language, show the person you’re interested. Something he’s read a thousand times and now he’s actually using it in practice? How wonderful. At least he was using it on a handsome man and not someone he had to suck up to. “You’re terribly kind.” The other spoke, his hand moving to rest on the other’s shoulder, feeling the fabric and the warm underneath it. Regis stared at him for a long time, feeling his body turn into flames.  He really shouldn’t be doing this, he should be heading home. He should take a shower and get some sleep.  But God, does he want to feel that body pressed tightly against his. He wants those hands bruising his hips and---- “Do you. . . um.” He licked his lips. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Men who put themselves above Oracles and the Gods usually meet their end in a gruesome way.” Sitting a little straighter, trying to keep a stoic look. But he doesn’t want to today. He wants to shout, he wants to punch that fucking face but he doesn’t. The two are Kings. They can’t act on brute force. Not now at least. “When one steps back, they can see all their options. If one rushes forward, they miss things.”

“Well, they do.” He repeated, sighing. Maybe it was the fact that he just didn’t care anymore. “They always make it so exciting. I can’t even sit comfortable in my own car anymore, I can’t imagine--” He looked at his companion for a moment. “. . . What?”

“--- Words that were recited by an Oracle.” He speaks, looking at the other, trying to keep a calm face. It was hard when he was so irradiating. “Your war tactics say otherwise.”

Clarus was smooth. Regis felt the blush creep up his face, taking over his whole being. Damn, damn. It wasn’t that the younger of the two was bad at flirting, in fact, he was usually very good. He usually could sweet talk his way into anything--- but Clarus was so much better.  Maybe it was the muscles. It had to be the muscles. They were just so. . . nice to look at.  And now, that he got a good look at him because he gave him his full attention, Regis found it even more difficult to form sentences. “I don’t know about. Even people at Insomnia U are puzzled by it.”  The youngest listened to him talk. It was easy to lose himself in the conversation. In fact, it was welcomed. Clarus had this nice, calming voice. However, when it came to his turn--- well, he tried to ignore the pretty comment. Even if it was sweet. And very forward. “My father owns a company and I’ll be taking over tomorrow. Which is the other part to this. . . sad celebration.” He raised his drink slightly. 

He truly was thankful for his Shield every day, Clarus always knew what he needed. Sometimes he knew before Regis knew. Maybe it was the years they spent together or maybe it was just a little bit of everything. Of a connection they had that not even they knew what to do with it. Were every Shield and King like this? Regis didn’t think his father’s was, after all he had so many bodyguards and Cor on top of it. . . he didn’t see how he could---  He didn’t want to think about the past. Not about Mors, not about anything. Just the man in front of him.  “Thank you.” He managed, a smile breaking through his gloom, as he looks up at the Shield. And very suddenly, the King is in his arms, carried away like a bride on her wedding night--- and to be honest? Regis couldn’t care less. His arms wrap around his neck, and he nods. “Yes. The bed is far more comfortable.”

The silence felt like it would go on forever. That every second was other time that they grew apart and it broke Regis’ heart. He had always wanted to be a better father than Mors. He wanted to be better King, too but he didn’t have the drive that Mors had. The way he could command a room, Regis just didn’t have that. He could look scary, hell he could have Clarus look scary for him--- but he couldn’t get the Council to listen sometimes----  They wanted to argue with him at all hours of the day, and as he felt the Ring of Lucii pull more from him, he just let them argue it out against each other. He was tired. So fucking tired---- But that didn’t excuse this. It didn’t excuse how he had put this distance between the two. It was Regis’ fault for not trying more. To be there more. He could have, there were times that he had a small chance and he just--- spent it in his office. Staring at paperwork that seemed to blur together. Hoping that he could get ahead of it for more time but--- it never ended.  “There’s no excuse.” He finally spoke, covering his face for a moment. “I wish I could tell you something but there really isn’t. I. . . I am afraid that I just let it all pile up and---” No. This was an excuse. This was not about making Noctis gulity for having these feelings, don’t do that. He shook his head. “Noctis, I am so sorry. I need to. . . try to push my work aside. I let it do this to us.” He frowned, and covered his face again. He was just so tired. Finally removing his hands from his face, he sat up a little straighter. Tried to look like a father. Like a King. Like someone other than a sad old man. “--- You’ve felt like this for a while, I assume?” How could he not? Being second to a Kingdom would do that to someone. “All I can say is. . . I’m sorry. But you don’t have to take my apology. It’s okay not to.”

He sat in silence, listening to his son’s words like he was underwater. It like a movie where one was on the edge of their seat as a fight broke out and left one’s chest aching as if it were their heart breaking on screen. But this wasn’t a movie. This wasn’t pretend. This was real.  Noctis was screaming, voicing out all his rage and hurt and all Regis could do is close his eyes and take it. Take it all because he deserved this, this pressure he put on his own son was the worst thing he could have done. He didn’t mean to, he tried to make time for him---- the Council seemed to demand more of his time and the paperwork was piling up on his desk and Regis just zoned out and worked. It was his way of coping. It was wrong. It wasn’t okay but it was what he did.  But the way that Noctis was speaking, it reminding him of when Regis was young. Standing there screaming at Mors--- asking him for some kind of parental affection, just one. Regis remember the words he spoke next. I never wanted a son. I never wanted you. And now, here was his son, saying things that--- well. It was ironic if nothing else.  It took a long moment before he spoke. Noctis just stared at him with hard eyes. “I never wanted a perfect heir.” He replied flatly. “I. . . I apologize if I pushed you too far. I just wanted you to excel and I. . . I had forgotten what it was like being young and a prince.” He swallowed. “You’re my son Noctis. Before the prince, you will always be my son.”

“--- And when I want cold drinks.” He replied, taking a sip of his whiskey as he watched her flames dance. Granted fire was pretty fun to have. And while it was fun, it burned too hot. Now ice on the other hand---- “I’m a blast at parties. Ever see one of those ice sculptures? Ever made of those in under ten minutes?” He grinned. If she got to show off, he wanted to as well. It was only fair.