#poor noctis

XDD Well technically I COULD but I won’t. FICLET TIME.

The Chocobros 1.0 do NOT get an explanation (not a full one anyway) because nobody is up to explain the whole “your kids from another dimension that died and woke up here and accidentally usurped a kingdom with the crash landing”.

Instead, after the Night King blandly warns that any attacks on his person will end badly, so please don’t, and please don’t attack the servants either they’re just doing their jobs, he waves a hand and the daemons release Regis and Co. Very slowly, warily, they stand up and rub feeling back into their limbs. Their weapons were taken away, and in this AU while Regis and co have Elemancy and other fancy magic, they DON’T have Armiger (it’s a lost art in this world, so Regis would have to be taught how to access it) so they can’t just yank more out of thin air as they assess their situation (heart of enemy territory, at the feet of the Immortal Accursed who is acting surprisingly nice but has been terrorizing their kingdom off and on for literal centuries). Regis opens his mouth to maybe cautiously ask a question when Cor shakes out the last kinks in his back-.

Then dives for the Night King with bare hands sparking with lightning.

Regis doesn’t get time to tell Cor to stop and the Accursed doesn’t even blink or startle. He doesn’t even move because he doesn’t have to.

The board-shouldered man with Amicitia gold eyes and two scars on his face stops Cor in his tracks. Regis isn’t even sure where the man came from, he moved so fast. He was just there, casually deflecting Cor’s attack without flinching from the lightning, then catching Cor’s follow-up attack with an almost lazy gesture.

Cor winds up winded on the floor at the man’s feet. The man in question rumbles a laugh while letting a frantic Weskham and cursing Cid drag Cor back into their group by his ankles, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

“I’m sorry for him,” Regis manages past the vice in his throat, because Regis can see the Night King watching Cor with a contemplative expression he can’t understand (why is the Accursed looking at Cor like that, with an expression that could ALMOST be called fond-), “He’s young.”

“I remember,” the Accursed says, but does not elaborate on what he remembers (being that young? Others who were like Cor? Information his spies brought him on Cor?) The king shakes his head and looks over at the shadows, “Prompto.”

Yet another human slides out of the shadows, this one as clearly of Niflheim descent as the grinning bear of a man is of Amicitia blood (and Regis can feel Clarus trembling at that, is trying not to think of it himself, because that paired with the Night King’s black hair and blue-blue eyes....). The newcomer smiles like the sun, a shockingly genuine expression in a place like this, “Lemme guess, guest duty?”

The Night King’s expression shifts from mild and unreadable for the first time, a delicate half-smile sliding onto his face that makes him seem unnervingly ... human, “Iggy should be finished soon, just ... escort them to the dining room. Maybe a tour.”

The blond man (Prompto? Is that his name?) laughs, calm and easy, and gestures for Regis and his Retinue to follow him, “Sure thing, Your Majesty. Come on intruder-guests, His Royal Highness needs to finish business in here without gawkers.”

Numb and confused, even Cor meekly follows the man out past the daemons and into the strange, endlessly tall building that served as the Night King’s home (hard to call it a castle with no ramparts or walls, just a tower as large as a small village that reached-reached-reached for the sky, the methods to build it lost centuries ago). The man (Prompto, he introduces himself as) leads them down halls lit by ghostly blue lights where torches should be, past daemons dressed like servants, who bow deeply to their guide as they pass and make no move to attack. Along the way, the man chatters amiably, pointing out meaningless trivia that would do nothing to help should they try to escape but was almost amusing were it not for the circumstances.

At one point, Cor lunges for Prompto’s back before Regis can stop him (Cid curses as the boy worms out of Cid’s grip unexpectedly, he’s getting better at escaping each time they try to stop him from getting into trouble). Cor snatches a decorative but razor sharp knife from a display rack as he goes, diving for Prompto’s back.

The man sidesteps without even looking, easily swipes Cor’s feet out from under him, then sidesteps again when Cor rolls with the fall and comes up swinging. Regis is tempted to try joining in, to try to get AWAY but by the time he’s thought it, the fight is already over and Cor is dazedly staring at Regis from where he’s been pinned against the wall by Prompto, “Dude,” says the member of the Dark King’s court, “rude. Wait until after dinner or something yeah? Pretty sure His Majesty will let you borrow a training room if you want to go a few rounds with me or Gladio.”

Cor twitches against the hold, but doesn’t really dare move because Prompto is holding the knife now and it is dangerously (lazily) close to Cor’s neck, “You’re faster than Gilgamesh,” Cor wheezes angrily, “How are you faster than Gilgamesh?”

Prompto doesn’t even blink at the mention of the ancient Swordmaster’s name, just lets Cor go with a shove that propels him into Clarus’s arms, “Please. Gilga-brat,” Clarus choked on his spit at the nickname, “has got nothing on Iggy when it comes to speed. Not even close. Assuming you stay for a day or two, ask your king if you can spar with Gladio a few rounds or something”

“Assuming we survive the night?” Weskham asks dryly.

Prompto blinks at him as if surprised, then grins, the expression sharp with something Regis can’t place (it almost seems like grief, but that can’t be).

They arrive in the dining room to find another human, a man with horrible scars mostly hidden beneath strange glasses that have to be too dark to see through and oddly stretched to wrap around the front of his face rather than being small, round little lenses like Regis is used to. The man is expertly directing a positive mob of Tonberry and Arachne, pointing out where to put the plates and where to adjust something all without so much as turning his head in the direction of the people he’s instructing. Regis wonders with a prickling chill if he has some kind of power given to him by the Night King. Surely all of the human inhabitants have SOME reason for staying in this place, either curses, thrall marks, or the promise of unnatural magic. Regis glimpses the woman from before, but she disappears through a different door before he can really look at her.

The blind man tips his head in their direction, “Ah, our guests. Your Highness, you sit in that chair if you will,” he gestures to the plush seat opposite the one clearly meant for the Night King and Regis falters at the implied equality between him and the Accursed, but the man is already directing the others to their seats and all they can do is tentatively creep past the bustling Tonberry and sit as food more fitting for an Altissian Royal Banquet than a castle of evil is laid out before them. He knows he should be wary, but after weeks of travel on only rations and campfire cooking, the sight and smell makes his mouth water.

Moments after they are seated, the Night King sweeps in, his Amicitia on his heels. The woman reappears alongside a boy who must be Cor’s age (physically anyway) and they seat themselves. Regis notices that the arrangement is a mirror of his own Retinue.

The prickling feeling increases.

They eat only because Regis is terrified of pushing the Accursed into acting like- well- the Accursed, even though he’s half afraid he’s eating people or something with every bite (it tastes amazing though, like fine dishes and rare spices, not like daemon food at all so maybe he’s okay?). Over dinner, the Accursed makes very light, easy conversation, never asking why they tried to break into his kingdom or mentioning the fact that they were- you know- mortal enemies. Regis doesn’t understand what the trick is and that scares him.

Finally Clarus breaks. He does not slam the table, he is more controlled than that, but he puts his utensils down and clears his throat, “May I be permitted to ask a question, Your Majesty?”

The Night King looks up and there is surprise in his eyes for just a moment, “Speak freely,” he answers dryly after a moment, “you’re hardly going to say anything I have not heard before.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Weskham shoots Clarus a sharp look and Regis pinches the bridge of his nose. The Night King tilts his head like he doesn’t understand, “Clarify.”

“Why are you entertaining us as honored guests? We are all members of your sworn enemies, of Lucis that you have spent centuries trying to destroy. Why show us courtesy? Why have the attacks on Lucis stopped to begin with?”

The Night King sits back and looks ... so genuinely flummoxed Regis almost finds himself believing it. The Accursed looks at his Dark Retinue, who all openly shrug save Ignis, who adjusts his strange glasses without comment. The Accursed frowns, then calls to the rafters, “Sheria?”

An Arachne, so old she’s massive, easily descends from the rafters (Cor’s breathing goes pointedly measured, he never could stand arachnids of any kind). The Arachne leans down and murmurs something into the Night King’s ear that the Dark Retinue can apparently hear because now all of them are blinking. The Accursed nods slowly and dismisses the giant daemon, then rubs his forehead, “Lovely. Just great. Why did no one tell me this when I took the Astral-cursed job-.”

The blind man’s lips twitch, “Noct,” he murmurs softly and there is an entire conversation in that one word. The Night King throws his head back and groans like a teenager, sits up straight and shatters Regis’s world with a casual, “Yea I didn’t do any of that stuff. I’ve only been King for ... I think a year now? About a year. Still catching up on all the paperwork and stuff.” He pauses, “The raids on your kingdom DID stop right? I ordered all raids be put on hold indefinitely on my first day.”

Regis is pretty sure he’s not breathing anymore, “You ... have only been ... for a year?” He manages a strangled gasp, squeaks out, “Then you aren’t the Accursed?”

The man waves a hand impatiently, as if the title was an annoying fly, “Formal title. Blame my uncle, he was always a drama queen.”

“...Uncle?”

The Dark Retinue is definitely snickering now as the Night King (?) props his chin on a hand and says, “Yeah, my Uncle. The original Accursed. I finally killed him a year ago, which makes me the new Night King.”

Cid runs a hand through his hair, “Ah thought the Accursed was immortal.”

“Yes, he was. Only one of his blood could kill him, everything else just bounced off. We fought, I won, so he died. That’s ... how it works. Next question.”

Cor speaks up next, because Regis is still trying to get his world to stop shattering, “So you ... aren’t going to kill us?”

A fractured expression and the deceptively human, amiable mien cracks to show ancient, terrible, grieving anger. In that moment the man before him seems centuries old, not somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties and Regis can BELIEVE that the man (men, and woman, because the others have similar expressions if not so deep and ancient) is an Immortal. Has seen things too old for Regis to comprehend.

“No,” the man answers and his voice cracks with emotion as he looks away, “No, I’m not going to kill you. I don’t want to kill anyone. I did my killing. I don’t want to do anymore.” And there is ... something so very fragile in those words, so very broken and tired and Regis suddenly realizes that ... this was the first Accursed’s nephew, family, he had assumed this man killed the other out of desire for the throne but what if...

What if it have been a desperate desire to make the death and madness stop?

“Is there something we can call you,” Regis hears himself saying, his heart going out against his will to this dangerous, strange immortal, “other than your titles? Is there a name you prefer?”

Kenny Crow: CAW KIDS, IT’S KENNY CROW!  (⊙ヮ⊙)

Noctis: Caw to you too... UWAH?! Σ( ＞ 口＜) 

 ...... thanks for the mouthful... 

FFXV Week Day 3 - ✧ Favorite Quote ✧

CAW KIDS, IT’S KENNY CROW!

Ignoct Week Timed Quest 2 // Noctis Eats His Veggies