#dark!noctis

It happened slowly, almost un-noticed until it was far, far too late. Luna had been flagging in her strength the day she went to stand before the Leviathan, she knew her powers and the weight of the ring she carried were draining what was left of her. She never guessed where it would lead. Ardyn’s blade intercepted by Noctis’, her trident retrieved and the burgundy haired man lay dead at her feet. It should’ve been a victory, her fate avoided. Instead it tasted like ash in her mouth. The look she shared with Noctis told her he felt the same, like a great shift had happened, and not for the better. The next sign had been Prompto. The blonde’s happiness seemed to be harder and harder to conjure, he was surly and when they finally got him to talk, Luna could feel her own mood darkening. He cried on them, in the room high above the freed city of Insomnia, the room that would’ve been their martial space, had things been different still. Luna wanted to be the comfort she once might’ve but instead her own fear kept her silent. Prompto spoke of dreams of blood, of eternal night, of red eyes over-taking three shades of blue. He shook and reached for Noctis, who wrapped him in the warmth of friendship and the comforts of love. Who looked at Luna with all the same worries burning. Gentiana was the final sign before the darkness took it’s due. She arrived on a cold morning, a few months after Ardyn fell. Her hair hung white as snow and she looked at Luna like a stranger.

“You are much changed, Oracle.”

Noctis, beside her with Prompto, their now constant companion, tipped his head in Gentiana’s direction. Her gaze flickered between all three of them and her brow furrowed.

“You are all changed. The starscourge, it lives in you.”

Gentiana fell away, leaving Shiva behind, a goddess ready to finish the task that Luna had started, that Noctis had been destined for, once.

Luna wanted so badly to care, but she realized, as Prompto’s gun appeared in the corner of her vision and her own weapon manifested, it was far too late for them. Luna died that day, the sweet girl who had struggled against darkness for so long was swallowed by the powers inside of her, by the small seed of ego in her heart.

Queen Lunafreya rose from her ashes. Shiva, bound to her will, the Lucian king kneeling before her, Prompto a ready killer at his side.

Lunafreya sought power, sought glory and worship and the cleansing of all. Prompto wanted blood and death and apparently, Noctis. The king...well he wanted Prompto and Ignis didn’t know if he much wanted to know what else his heart desired.

Lunafreya whispered orders, lips brushing the shell of Prompto’s ear, heedless of the blood drying in his hair. Ignis had learned quickly not to ask how there was always fresh splashes of red on Prompto after the...gift...he’d received the first time. If he moved wrong the mark on his shoulder still burned and he wondered how Noctis moved some days.

The blonde man straightened, bowing to his Queen with a sardonic tilt of his lips and Ignis forced himself to look at Noctis. The King’s unbridled lust was clear as ever, tinted with an excitement that made Ignis’ stomach clench as he watched Noctis pull Prompto into a kiss that was a lot of tongue and teeth. Lunafreya looked to him then and he forced himself to focus, “Thank you Ignis. Your information has been most helpful. You may go. Send Gladiolus in with the plans for Accordo please.” He nods stiffly and leaves. Noctis’ eyes follow him as Prompto leaves new marks on his throat. He looks to Lunafreya who is watching them with her usually indulgent expression.

“Well, my King, are you and our little soldier ready?”

Prompto straightens up and curls an arm over Noctis’ shoulders, sharp teeth flashing in a smile as Noctis’ fingernails elongate. Lunafreya gives them a smile.

“Good. I’m sure you’re hungry Noctis, just clean up after yourself this time. Prompto, bring this...Nyx, back alive. Ignis said he is an escaped glaive who is filling people’s head with traitorous words. With so many lies, they won’t know that it is I who will save them from themselves, and they must know so they may worship me.” As their forms fade into shadows Lunafreya contemplates her throne room, perhaps it is time she left this place as well, perhaps a display of her power would be good....No, she decides, it is not yet time. Maybe when Noctis has reigned in his appetite, but not yet. Nyx strikes out at the shadow that morphs around him, it’s hard to make out, but he see’s red eyes and torn clothing. He doesn’t need to know who it is though, he remembers the sight of the Oracle with her white dress turning red, the woman he’d so loved no where to be found in her visage, he remembers Shiva’s broken form at her feet. He doesn’t need to know, because it’s better if he doesn’t. It’s easier if he can’t put a name to the screams behind him, to the sound of flesh tearing as one of them eats. He doesn’t want to learn which of them it is.

He is crawling by the end, the shadow solidifying and he doesn’t want to look but, he has no choice. Kneeling beside him, dirt on pale skin and blonde hair a shock, is Prompto. The kid Nyx helped trained who was made of sunlight and laughter, who would’ve lived and died for their prince. Nyx thought he was dead and his stomach sours at the glow of his bloody eyes. Prompto make a disappointed clicking sound and opens his mouth to make a remark but a new voice stops him ad Nyx knows at last, how lost they are.

“Prompto. We can’t leave Lunafreya waiting him and I...” The voice stutters on the edge of a groan, it’s heavy with something and Nyx won’t make himself look at the king.

“I know love, help me carry him and you can fuck me over his corpse when the Lady is done.”