#lucisking

cor was not one for idle conversation, which had led to the majority of their movements across the citadel to be taken in silence. &, whatever he was attending to was highly classified, which had led to her standing alone in more hallways than she could possibly count for what felt like hours. this was definitely not the grand duty that the other recruits had wished for, but she would wear it with the pride that it apparently warranted.

& so she tried to look serious & observant as she stood just beside yet another closed door. the voices behind it clearly taking care not to be heard as she couldn't even hear them in a muffle. there was nothing to occupy herself with other than taking out & re––––doing her ponytail, & she was certainly not going to be caught fidgeting like that should cor suddenly reappear from his mystery meeting.

so there tifa stood, watching the wall across from her & hoping this meeting & this day would end quickly.

ask prompt from @lucisking: "what the hell just happened there ? "

the disc of cauthess. rugged terrain harshly molded by the still remaining meteorite, deteriorated by intense weather and thousands of years' time. a living testament to the gods' strength and ever-preserving power. the aether remaining radiated off of the rock below her feet. rock that grew increasingly hard to navigate in her shoes, thus, had she discarded them many inclines ago, only taking ravus's hand on the steepest of steps. (it was always there, always provided for her, no matter if she needed it or not). and despite their squabble on the way here, lunafreya was sufficiently pleased to see he'd decided to keep his mouth shut in the presence of the archaean.

things go simply enough. the landforger is a reasonable enough astral, and as words effortlessly tumbled from her lips, present in the ancient tongue, did his expression relax. noctis would have his support. and with it, would relief wash over her in immediate waves.

still, she had a lot more to do. her face remained unchanged as she displayed her respect to the archaean in a deep bow.

as she held the ending position. her eyes shot open. a bark. luna could see ravus's sabatons turn heel to face the disruption, hand quick to hover over his rapier. did her position follow, albiet much slower. (waking the archaean was not dissimilar to a sleeping coeurl. her steps needed to be light, words sweet, presence soothing. never was she to look him in the eye, lest she incur his wrath. the known presence of another party was, at the very least, frightening).

as she turns, she watches umbra pad off excitedly, dragging a direct line of movement to their intruders.

" you ... " instantly, all air in her body seemed to vacate itself. her throat closed in, words and thoughts failing her into a dizzying haze.

noctis.

though the first sight of him in twelve years should have been an incredible, dream-like moment ---- lunafreya found her breath robbed from her for an entirely different reason. he wasn't supposed to be here.

to draw the ire of the magitek fleet away from him, ravus and herself had departed on a secret visit to see the archaean, in preparation for noctis's future covenant forgery. this wasn't what she had seen to play out ---- this wasn't how she had planned it.

and they were all in danger.

instinctively, luna's foot slides to take a step back, and ravus is there to steady her balance. he's looking at her, as is everyone else. they're all ... waiting for her to say something.

but she can't stop looking at noctis.

he looks... well. the duscaen sun has tanned him. he's grown into his clothes suitibly. he has a mature look about him that no picture could do justice. if she could, she would kick herself for wanting more to commit this moment to memory, than to get this mess sorted out.

‘ what do you wish for? ’

" that a question could be answered so simply. "

IT WAS CLEARLY said in jest, but for every bit of laughter there was a shred of truth. she had wished for many things over the years, with her head turned skyward in hopes that her words would be heard above the inevitable din of prayers sent to metia & carried past the moon, into the heavens to be granted. of those wants, many had been repeated more than once. all, in fact, but her most childish, which she had abandoned hoping for fairly quickly in attempt to give her more serious prayers a chance to be permitted.

THERE WERE THOSEwho would say that sort of thought in & of itself was better suited for a child, but jill would allow herself this superstition.

" i don't think you will find a person in all of the twins who has a single, solitary wish. but, i will spare you the hours it would take to get through all of my own & limit myself to one. "

SILENCE REIGNED AS she turned her thoughts over in her head. what one thing would come close to encompassing several of her wishes all in one? for the blight to recede. for the war to end. for the safety of bearers. for the protection of her friends.

FOR FREEDOM FROM the curse.

" peace. "

THE WORD SLIPPED out before she had even realized she'd found her connection, but it was far from a surprise. she had been wishing for peace long before she'd entered the hideaway. long before the iron kingdom.

EVEN LONG BEFORE rosaria, during the zenith of a northern winter, watching her father suit up for battle. it was the closest she would get to an all––––encompassing desire. any other would be fleeting & frail if conflict continued to ravage their home, their lives & their futures.

" why ? " repeated words , yet these are soaked in malice. for anguish lights his body on fire , for his blood is the fuel & made of boiling rage. this fire will not extinguished , & his words only fuel this burning body. the smile which reaches his lips is cruel , if not welcoming so , & he allows the silence to creep & thicken.

his gaze never falters & he hopes that the daggers which are thrown from them are well felt. there are words he wishes to say , so many words he wishes to yell until his voice grow coarse & death is the only thing which finishes the sentence. still , his voice does not tremble. he does not let it consume him , only as the sole motivation for a means to an end.

" the naive prince knows naught of the path set for him. i'm almost envious. " the confusion which flickers in the eyes of such prince remind him of his own. when he was torn from his rightful title & torn from the future he was meant to have. but ... it was written in the star he would never experience it. a false hope , living in a dream until reality struck.

( i told you, you see nothing | @lucisking )

omg... hi :)

you're not very good at following directions

❛ We've got the ultimate co-op mode going, Noct ! Come on ! —— Teamwork makes the dream work ! ❜

@lucisking || 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸𝒟 for a 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒯𝐸𝑅

Some evenings, he feels, are best spent staring up towards the heavens where scattered stars continue their endless watch of the planet. How can one not gaze upward and admire their beauty, and lose their thoughts in the wonderment of what those stars might think of them, he didn't know - but in the very least it offered a reprieve from the weight of war and responsibility.

But much like every other waking hour of the day- time spent alone to simple breathe and remind ones self of the good in the world was to be cut short and his attention dragged elsewhere.

Trespassers within the military camp? The reporting knight remained perfectly attentive while Dion's gaze finally fell from the sights of the heavens above and instead dropped to the ground, a moment taken to pull ones self back into the aching grief of the present only to then turn 'pon heeled boots.

Quietly, with exhaustion quoting his tone does his highness request that said trespasser be bought to his quarters so they make speak and it is there that Dion heads towards; comforts, though sparse, bought a sense of solace to the depths of his chest and the promise of temporary quiet lulled him further towards its confines.

He sits, armour weighing heavy upon shoulders, feet aching within boots; but his attention fixates immediately upon approaching guards and their entirely unfamiliar charge.

A brow quipped, a silent question posed; why linger within a camp belonging to war if one had no bonds to it? Why risk it? But he voices naught of that sort - instead, a soft gesture with a hand offers a cup of water and with his person seated further back in the comforts of his chair does he finally speak;

@lucisking said: " luna , uh . . . " hesitancy plagues him like a scourge , & the more he tries to stifle stuttering words , the longer he forces her into his awkward silence . " happy birthday . " discomfort meets sincerity with brief pause & a nod as he ignores the sweat forming along the back of his neck . " i . . . got you something . " now or never , he thinks , as he rummages around the small bag he'd taken with him ( & he curses himself for not just putting it in the armiger , but maybe that wasn't the best place for it anyway ) . from the satchel he withdraws a small notebook , not unlike the one they'd share between umbra for some time , only this one was not exchanged with a soul , & obviously seemed more hand - crafted . things of material value that lack in sentiment often find themselves valued for such a short while , then stored until eventually misplaced . it was roughly a year ago that prompto had given him the idea to do something more meaningful ( completely on accident , & noctis surely kept the idea a secret the whole time ) . he's been working on it since . in his hand , he holds a small paper - bound book that within in has pressed flowers he'd found throughout their travels & small notes in messy , smeared handwriting here & there . no pictures , no poetry , but every once in awhile he brags of a fish he'd caught recently , plainly excited to tell her of his finds . the words are short , few & far between , but the pressed flowers fill every which page . he'd hoped there'd be some she'd never seen before & he hands it to her rather quickly , embarrassment creeping its way from his toes to his inability to maintain eye contact . " made this . "

he never thought to have the strength to give it to her , but with everything going on . . . she at least deserves this .

hope you like it .

lunafreya was used to gifts. it didn't make her shallow, or any less appreciative. she was never one to forget her birthday ---- for she could never allow it to slip her mind, not with the routine grand gestures from those who celebrated. even the days preceding, and following were bracketed by gifts. a week long event.

while maybe a part of her found it embarrassing, she knew that it was more for what she stood for, rather than her own person. to celebrate the good fight, to celebrate the oracle was a wonderous day. she was blessed to be the object of everyone's adoration.

noctis's adoration, however ... was a different subject all together. she'd always received birthday gifts from him. mostly in the form of letters, small keepsakes. there was only so much that could pass through unfettered in imperial territory, via astral or not. she understood as such. and though they were always subtle, it didn't mean it was because of the circumstances. noctis knew luna. he knew she was as immaterial as they came. he knew what she really wanted, as more of him.

before he even starts, she finds it hard to meet his eye. unknowingly mirroring his nervous ticks. she cant help the breadth of her smile, the pitter of her heart. a wide anticipation that could not be sourced. he had thought of her. he spoke of her. not the oracle, but lunafreya.

" thank you, noctis. " she exhales her words as if she'd exerted herself. she was keenly aware of their loneness in the room. of the sentiment shared. it was ... far too much to keep track of. " truthfully, it means the most coming from you. "

his shyness works wonders to conceal her own. she can tell he doesn't notice the shake in her voice, the too-wideness of her lips.

then, he reveals a humble notebook, worn leather and misshapen at spots. after silently asking for a nod of approval, does luna gingerly open the book. luna flips pages with rapt attention, eyes focused intently on his notes, as well as the weathering of paper, that further storied his words. " ah, gillyflowers, and duscaen hollyhock. " her fingers smooth over the dried flora, her smile unable to be contained by foolish notions of decorum. she flips through page after page, laughing at his written commentary. she's entirely occupied, unaware of his redness. her heart soared. each page was .... love. it was love.

with each flick of his pen, he'd thought of her. he'd probably hid the simple act of picking flowers from his companions. he'd added details he knew she'd appreciate. noctis had given her a physical manifest of his care for her. one she'd have forever.

at some point, tears began to roll down her cheeks. they caught in her teeth, and her face twists into one racked with emotion. she closes the book to protect it from her onslaught, thumb keeping her place.

" sorry. i'm sorry. " she sniffles wetly, jaw turning from him, and her spare hand shielding her nose from him. " i'm happy. i'm happy it's just ---- " she bursts into smile again, punctuated by audible exhale. her hand busies at wiping her tears. " i'm really happy. "