Faithless

"Hey, I'll have you know that I've been told that I'm a perfectly charming young man." Mostly from the old grannies in the slums, but Nyx wasn't going to be picky with who he got his compliments from.

"Besides, I think you secretly like it," smirking, he started to remove his own boots – quickly followed by the two kukri he kept on his body. He placed them within easy reach, just in case someone should try to barge into the King's room, but he still had His Majesty's magic with him; so he wasn't totally defenceless.

"So, aside from being handsome, what do you like to do in your free time?" It was part pick-up line and part genuine curiosity. Sure, he wouldn't mind sleeping with Ravus, but he also wanted to get to know him better. He wasn't stupid enough to think that he could ever have a romantic relationship with a foreign King, but that didn't mean that they couldn't be friends.

And it was only talk, as far as he was concerned. Talk was innocent in these quiet moments where no one would bother them because no one, honestly, cared to. They were of no use to those outside of the chamber's walls.

More than Nyx removing his boots, it was the kukri that drew Ravus' eye, and the eye was a wary and cautious one. It was not his assumption that the kukri would be used to defend him from anyone barging in; no, instead it was his assumption that the kukri was to be used to subdue him. Or to put him out of his misery if he were to prove himself to be a threat.

(As tempting an idea as the idea to jump from the balcony had been...)

"Whether I like it or not, my lips are remaining sealed," he replied, returning his attention to the second boot. It soon joined the first, set neatly aside upright as if he expected to be able to slip them on at a moment's notice. At least Insomnia spared no luxury for their guests, the carpet plush beneath his socked feet.

"Ah..." When was the last time anyone had asked after his hobbies? And when was the last time he had been allowed to fully indulge in his hobbies?

Following the King inside, Nyx raised an eyebrow at the offer, though he appreciated the new view. It was a shame to hide such a stature under such a stuffy coat, but he knew the importance of uniforms. Taking off his own outer jacket, he draped it over the chair next to Ravus' coat.

"That eager to get rid of me?" he teased, taking a seat and lounging backwards. He was secretly glad to be sitting down after a full day of standing and walking around, though he also used the opportunity to pose in what he hoped was an appealing manner.

A brow lifted at the way Nyx had chosen to pose himself; His Majesty had no actual idea what the Glaive's aim was, but from the looks of it, he was trying to win his way into his bed.

Or it was all a ridiculous joke meant to liven up both of their boring existences. All the same, Ravus took a seat in another chair and began the meticulous task of removing his boots. Those were treated with a hint more care than the coat, and the first one had just been set aside when Nyx spoke again...

That got a soft, amused snort out of Ravus, along with the barest trace of a smile.

Now, Nyx knew that pick-up lines were rather hit or miss, but it had been a while since he had seen such confusion on the face of the person he was flirting with. Sure, Ravus was probably way out of his league, but that wasn't going to stop him.

Still, such a reaction was unprecedented. Surely Ravus knew how attractive he was? Nyx was pretty sure even a blind man would agree with him.

"Not a fan of that one? You're right, I can do better," he replied, purposefully ignoring the other man's confusion. He was pretty sure that Ravus would get the hint soon enough.

Making a picture-frame out of his hands and looking at the King through it, he tried again.

"Keep going. You're making a convincing argument for why I should toss myself over the railing." With a roll of his eyes--at least he was no longer seriously considering jumping--he began undoing the clasps of his coat as he walked past the Glaive back inside. The garment was stifling, and if he was to bear the man's eyes on him, at least he could give him something better to look at than the thick white fabric.

And in a moment of unkingly carelessness, he dropped the coat across the back of a chair.

"You may as well make yourself comfortable. I cannot imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon." A moment later, he cast a curious glance toward his babysitter.

Nyx, they had said his name was, he thought he recalled.

Nyx had been tasked with guarding royalty before, but never foreign royalty. He didn't know much about the Prince – now... King? Only that Niflheim had given him a high rank, despite everything that had happened. Nyx didn't trust it, but at the same time – he shouldn't be too quick to judge.

It wasn't like Tenebrae had asked Niflheim to evade them. They hardly had a choice in who to offer allegiance to.

Now, if only someone had told him that Ravus Nox Fleuret was handsome. Nyx had to survive a whole day of being the guy's silent shadow, though it gave him plenty of time to appreciate his... assets. That cutout in his uniform shouldn't be allowed to be so attractive.

By the end of the day, Nyx felt like he was ready to explode. Flirting with someone aligned, at least on paper, with the Empire was a bad idea – but most people knew that Nyx had a tendency to make... interesting choices.

Nyx had followed Ravus out onto the balcony; under the guise of simply doing his job. The fresh air was nice and the stars were already out, offering a pretty view.

"Is your name ''Scenery'? Because I'm trying to take you in."

Though having a babysitter did chafe at Ravus' nerves, he knew full-well to simply deal with it; he had lived much of his life beneath the watchful eye of them, particularly when he'd come under the care of Niflheim. Still, he didn't think that he had ever had one whose eyes bore into the back of him in quite the way that this one's did. Yes, he could feel it as he went about his duties as Tenebrae's puppet-king, introducing himself to dignitaries, politicians, and anyone else Aldercapt paraded him before, no doubt pleased to have the King of Tenebrae beneath his thumb.

He scarcely had a moment to himself until he stepped out on the balcony, welcomed by the night sky beginning to twinkle with stars.

It made him a little homesick, and as he leaned against the railing, he almost considered jumping.

Then his babysitter spoke up. Ravus had almost forgotten he was there. And what...had the man said?

Was he...

Ravus turned in surprise, brows creased together in a frown of confusion.

"... Saving the Oracle?" that certainly put things into perspective. If the other had put on the ring in some attempt at protecting Lunafreya – perhaps turn its power against the invading Niflheim – well, Nyx could understand that. He had done everything for his own sister, once. He hadn't been quick enough to save Selena when the Empire had invaded Galahd and he would spend every day living with his regret.

"I suppose I can't fault you for that. Wanting to protect your family... it is something we have in common. Despite everything, I am at least confident that Luna made it out safe," he had entrusted her safety to Libertus, but he knew he could trust his brother in all but name. He's also pretty sure he had heard word of the Oracle traveling around, even if he hadn't been able to track her down just yet.

Nyx didn't know that Lunafreya had a much worse fate waiting for her – in truth he knew very little about the truth of what was going on. He had was just a soldier; one used to following orders.

"Excuse my language, but the old coots inside the ring are prissy bitches – so it's no surprise it didn't work. They barely wanted to lend me their power and I was doing it to protect Lunafreya and Insomnia, their precious city. They only allowed it because of pressure from the King and because I signed away my life."

Nyx really shouldn't be alive, but he had a tendency to exceed expectations.

That there was not any anger did come as a surprise, though years of cruel schooling in the ways of things ensured that he kept it very hidden, his expression as it always was: calm, placid, wary.

He did allow a subtle bow of his head, the faintest nod. He had been trying to protect his sister and his people. What could he have done if he'd been allowed even a fraction of the power at King Regis' fingertips? He could have laid waste to the war, put an end to the fighting that devoured all sides. He could have averted his sister's fate.

He could have freed his homeland from the clutches of Niflheim, and he could have freed the people of Niflheim from the clutches of Gralea.

It was worth the price of his arm. It would have been worth the price of his life because the way Ravus saw it, no one else seemed willing to do more than drive Lunafreya and Noctis to their deaths as ordained by so-called Gods.

"You have my thanks for her survival." Gratefulness did not often leave Ravus' lips but he had seen the man at his sister's side, had seen him escort her and Regis out of the doomed throne room. Lunafreya, too, had spoken briefly of the brave Glaive who had, as far as anyone knew, given his life for not only the Oracle but all of Insomnia.

"Frankly," he began, then let out a sigh that was world-weary and exhausted. "I don't think anyone truly cares for the world as a whole. They're all too focused on ensuring that an asinine, nonsensical prophecy come to pass." Thoughts he had expressed many times as a boy to his mother, thoughts he had expressed at least once to his sister, but none heard him, so he learned to be silent.

"His Majesty Ravus nox Fleuret of Tenebrae." That introduction, that he left out any mention of Niflheim and his Imperial rank, spoke far more than any confirmation he could give, and he made sure to put emphasis on his homeland.

Nyx shouldn't have survived the fall of Insomnia; the Kings of Yore had made that much clear. As a shifter, he had always been more sturdy in comparison to others, so that was what he brushed his survival off as. He hadn't had the time to think about it.

He had been lost for a time after he woke up in the ruined city, wandering aimlessly and avoiding Niflheim troops. He needed time to heal, though even his shifter abilities couldn't take away all the damage the ring of the Lucii had caused. The scars were permanent and his left arm barely usable; only slightly more manageable in his coeurl form.

He had wanted to find either Lunafreya or Prince Noctis, but wouldn't know where to start, so he had changed tactics instead – making it his mission to take out as many Niflheim bases and temporary camps as possible. There was no point in hiding his shifter abilities, not like he had back with the Glaives – so he simply didn't.

He was in his coeurl form, taking out a small encampment of MTs and troopers, when he caught a somewhat familiar scent. Taking a moment to watch the last of the MTs explode, he soon tracked the scent – which led him to an oddly familiar male. This one had been there, in Insomnia, hadn't he? His similarity to Lunafreya was unmistakable.

Growling, he shifted back right in front of the other, wanting to be able to speak before doing anything else – no matter how much he wanted to act on his instincts.

"You–!"

Despite how he was feeling, Nyx found himself oddly at a loss for words – mostly at the sight of the other's arm. Right, he had put the ring on as well, hadn't he? Nyx hadn't recognised it at the time, but that kind of burning could only have been caused by one thing. Everything had happened so quickly and his focus had been on Lunafreya and the King. At least it had only taken an arm – Luche, someone he had thought he could trust, had burned to ash right in front of him.

Ravus, at least, had experience. There had been many of such creatures (although calling them 'creatures' seemed a bit dehumanizing and cruel), many enough that he'd grown used to them. As such, when a lone, random coeurl began tearing through the base he'd been stationed at with the fury and precision that no coeurl Ravus had ever seen display before, he hung back, allowed his men to be obliterated.

He had as much love for them as they had for what they considered the traitor king of Tenebrae, willing to sacrifice his own people to save his own hide.

(A partial truth, but he owed them no explanation.)

He would allow the coeurl to find him, to come to him, and allow it he did, though when the shifter revealed himself, he did find himself rather surprised. The recognition was hazy, yet how could the High Commander forget the man who had been at his sister's side when last he had laid eyes on her? So it seemed he had survived the fall of Insomnia at a great cost; the marred skin told a tale that Ravus could only guess at.

The surprise was a short lived surprise. Ravus stood straight, shoulders squared, sword in the hand not covered by so gaudy a gauntlet yet pointing down toward the ground.

"So it is you," he replied, and it was no stretch of the imagination as to what the Glaive referred to; Ravus' gaze flickered to the side, to his own abomination of an arm carefully hidden beneath the trappings of hideous elegance.

His gaze returned to the man.