☾ ❜ no safer place to be.

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 】