Chapter Text
When Dr. Dolores Auxilium came to Lestallum from her new home in Altissia, she did so with the full intent of visiting her dear cousin who had fallen ill and could not make the journey across the ocean herself. She did not, in fact, travel there thinking she would end up coming out of retirement. That wasn’t even remotely on her mind as a possibility.
The bright lights of Lestallum greeted her as a retired, older woman looking after her family and absolutely nothing more.
But there was the Marshal turned Mayor Cor Leonis, who looked at her when she stepped off the transport like she was the most beautiful messenger to ever visit from the Gods themselves.
“Please,” he’d begged, “my grandkid needs it. He’s made a lot of progress over the last few years, but there's no professionals here. I want to make sure he isn’t just burying his trauma or feelings to appease everyone.”
And how could she say no to a request like that? Even though her license to practice lapsed long ago, nobody seemed to mind. Lots of things simply worked differently these days.
Cor even found her a little office space to set up a desk and couch, and a cute little plant to add some calming ambiance. Something engineered by a very famous biologist to adapt to artificial sunlight.
So, here she was, sitting across from the most interesting patient she ever had. And that patient's adopted son, who was also a genetic clone of her biological father and nearly exactly like her younger brother.
Her services were definitely needed here.
“It’s been a long time!” Amelia said awkwardly. There wasn’t a trace of misplaced anger or defiance in her face. Nothing left of the scared, lonely little girl she’d met decades ago. Amelia seemed rather well adjusted now, considering her circumstances. But Dolores’ patient today wasn’t Amelia, it was the eleven year old boy sitting next to her and staring at the floor.
“You look well,” Dolores replied. “I’m happy. Now, let’s see. Kidd Leonis? It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man.”
Kidd looked up at her for a moment, eyes wide and full of fear.
“It’s…he doesn’t trust strangers. Especially ones with ‘doctor’ in the name,” Amelia explained.
“Ah, of course. Well, Kidd, I have a very general understanding of your circumstances. I’d be very happy to talk with you about them.”
The boy sat very still, his hands clenching his knees tightly.
“Hey, it’s okay. Remember? Doct-, Ms. Dolores used to help me when I was your age. She’s really good at helping. Do you want to tell her about yourself?” Amelia asked. She gently rubbed the boy on his back and bit her bottom lip. There was a growing, palpable anxiety between them. “He’s adjusted well enough to a lot of normal life. Well, ‘normal’, you know? But so much has happened in the last few months.” Amelia paused and gestured at her growing belly. “I think he might be regressing.”
Dolores nodded. “As you know, this is normal for children who experience violence and abuse in their formative years. Kidd? You don’t have to speak to me if you’re not ready. But I want you to know I understand.”
Kidd did not move. He sat perfectly still.
Amelia’s shoulders slumped. “I’m just worried I’m fucking him up.”
And, ding ding ding! The real purpose of the appointment finally came out.
“Alright, let’s explore that. What actions have you taken that make you believe you’re not parenting appropriately?”
Amelia let out a short laugh. “Where to even start? I didn’t give him a name, or a birthday. He had to pick his own! I let him fall into these, like, soldier kid trances all the time. It’s just easier than pulling him out of them. He gets rigid and needs people to give him commands. He’ll go months without doing it and I’ll be like, alright! He’s getting better! And then like, bang, he’s at it again. And I don’t know what I’m doing wrong to make it happen or how to stop it. We just have to wait it out.”
Dolores nodded and took notes. Amelia was, probably without knowing it, giving her a great deal of material to work with.
“I put myself in danger, and he knows I’m in danger! What kind of mom does that?! I started dating this guy and I’m pregnant in, like, a year because sexual health care is nonexistent in the apocalypse and that cannot be good for his sense of stability. I work all the time when I’m not throwing myself into danger like a moron and he goes through a whole host of babysitters including a teenager, my boyfriend, an ex Imperial officer, and one time a car mechanic I only kind of know!”
Oh, this was all very good.
“I don’t care if he’s normal. That’s just not realistic, for anyone! Being normal isn’t the goal. I just want him to…be happy? And not hate me for screwing him up.” Amelia’s cheeks were red. The bags under her eyes were dark, exhaustion evident all over.
Dolores nodded and folded her hands on her desk. “Well. I’d like to start by asking if you’re familiar with the cultural norms of parenting in the old Gahladian tribal units?”
Amelia looked at her with raised eyebrows. “We…didn't cover that in school, no…” Her voice told Dolores she was hesitant about where this was going, but staying on board nonetheless.
“Now, not every tribe was studied or written about so don’t take these as sweeping generalizations of their entire culture, but, it was very common for a new child not to have a name for the first year of their life. And when they did receive a name, it was something bestowed upon them by a trusted member of the community. Someone who had experience with watching the child’s personality unfold, and they would normally discuss the choice with the family and others who knew them.”
“Kidd got his name from the chocobo guy misunderstanding me,” Amelia quietly admitted.
“Interesting. Kidd, may I ask, is this man important to you?”
The boy sat still for a moment, then slowly nodded his head.
“Oh. Yeah, he used to do volunteer work for the chocobo ranch. It was this program for kids, it kind of broke down when the sun quit rising but…Wiz still comes by with chocobos now and then and lets Kidd and the others ride and groom them.” Amelia’s eyes lit up as she spoke of the experience. Dolores found this to be a perfect thread to keep tugging at.
“And you made sure he went to these chocobo care sessions?”
Amelia nodded. “But, I think it’s a far stretch between that and a village elder giving a baby their name.”
“Oh, indeed. I just wanted you to know that some aspects of parenting, like bestowing names and such, aren’t as set in stone as we may think. It’s a cultural practice, and one that can be broken when needed. You’re not a bad mom for that.”
“Right, well..thanks…”
“As for those trances you spoke of… Because of his time before you found him, Kidd has learned to fall in line, so to speak, to avoid pain. Thus, a great deal of stress can trigger these old coping mechanisms. Now, I think we can all agree that stress is unavoidable for everyone right now.”
Amelia exhaled and nodded.
“And I’m sure he’s picking that up from everyone in his life. Not just you. Your father is running the country, such as it is, and your brother is in charge of protecting the King who has suddenly returned. As I understand, you all live together?”
“Oh, no. A month ago we moved in with um…my boyfriend. I’m sure that didn’t help either.”
Dolores clicked her pen. “What is your boyfriend’s name, if I may ask?”
“Ignis.”
Dolores blinked. “Scientia?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow,” Dolores said. If she were a betting woman, she would have put her money on that Gladio kid. “Good work.”
“Thanks?”
“Kidd. May I ask, do you like your new home?” Dolores asked.
For the first time, he looked up with wide eyes and nodded his head. “I have my own room. And it’s big. I have a stuffed chocobo I named Goat. She’s my favorite.”
Amelia looked down in shock. “Oh…I had no idea. So you’re not upset that we left grandpa’s apartment?”
Kidd shook his head. “I miss Grandpa and Uncle Prompto, but I still see them all the time. And I like my new room. And I like Mr. Ignis’ food better but don’t tell Grandpa.”
“Huh. Alright.” Amelia settled back into the couch. There was a distinct air of some kind of tension releasing from her shoulders. “Well, I guess things aren’t so bad. But I’m still worried, you know?”
“So was Cor when he brought you in,” Dolores added. “In fact, you two are practical mirrors of each other right now. He was also terrified of screwing you up, and only wanted for you to be stable and happy. And wouldn’t you say he did his best?”
“I-...but that’s, I mean…” Amelia stumbled over her rebuttal. She looked down at her son, then back to Dolores. Amelia bit her lip, eyes glistening with something obvious being held back. “Kidd. You know you can tell me anything, right? Any time at all about anything that’s ever upsetting you? I’ll never be mad.”
Kidd nodded his head. “Yes.”
Dolores shrugged her shoulders. “It seems he knows exactly how to communicate with you. It’s just different from what you’re used to. Just like you had your own way of communicating your needs with Cor. Yours was more…direct, while Kidd’s seems to be subdued. Would you say he’s adjusted to being around people?”
Amelia nodded. “He likes having birthday parties, even if he gets overstimulated quickly. He’s afraid of strangers but when he does get to know someone, he’s really attached to them. He’s been learning about car engines from this guy, Cid, he’s my dad’s friend, and he’s really taking to it!”
Kidd’s face silently lit up. A subtle change that spoke volumes. Dolores knew that look quite well. It was always a good sign with her pediatric patients.
“Kidd, would you like to talk about car engines?” Dolores asked.
He did. In fact, he spoke nonstop about everything Mr. Sophiar was teaching him recently for half an hour.
“And that’s why manual transmissions will always be superior.”
Amelia sat still, eyes wide, mouth shut tight.
“See? There’s nothing wrong with Kidd. Nothing you’re doing wrong, either. He’s still developing, just on a different track from other kids. But that’s to be expected,” Dolores stated proudly. “When he goes into trances, just stay with him. Talk to him gently and wait for him to come back to you. Don’t try to force it, and don’t panic. You’re already doing the right thing.”
Amelia looked like she might cry. How sadly nostalgic.
“I only have time for one more question, and then we’ll be done for today. Kidd, may I ask, how do you feel about becoming a big brother soon?”
Amelia’s face went pale. She looked down at the boy like she had no idea what response to expect.
Kidd smiled. “Ms. Iris gave me books to read about being a brother. I like it. Holding a baby is like holding a new chocobo. I’ll be gentle.”
Now visible tears were welling up in Amelia’s eyes.
“Your mother is in a very emotional state right now. The baby is making her feel all sorts of things much stronger than usual. Can you be there to help her?” Dolores asked.
Kidd nodded his head. “I get Mom her ginger tea.”
Amelia wiped her eyes. “Yeah, he does.” She put her arm around Kidd and held him close. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
Kidd looked down at his knees, hands fidgeting.
“I think we’re done here for now. You know where to find me if you need to talk more,” Dolores said gently while handing Amelia a tissue.
“I thought you were doing this one session. Are you actually back in business?” Amelia asked with a laugh.
Dolores looked down at her schedule for the week and sighed. “Yes, indeed I am.”
Dolores had to admit that, despite being stationed directly in the Citadel as the crown’s personal psychiatrist, she never expected to actually give psychiatric help to the Prince of Lucis himself. Or King? It was unclear.
“It’s unclear to me too,” Noctis admitted. “Bahamut had a pretty clear ten year plan for me, and now that’s all been thrown in the trash. Not that I’m ungrateful!”
Dolores nodded silently, watching as the young royal rubbed the back of his neck, almost like he was in pain.
“It’s just…I was supposed to accept my fate in the astral plane, ascend to the throne, and, well…”
“I admit, Your Highness, I’m unfamiliar with the exact nuance of the prophecy.” Dolores knew the King of Light would ascend the throne and drive back the darkness. She also knew this King was Noctis. That was what most people knew. Not many knew anything beyond that.
Noctis let out a deep sigh and curled his hands around his knees. “I was meant to spend ten years growing my power and accepting my fate. Then, I would sacrifice myself to kill Ardyn and end the long night. I…I spent almost five years in there just…I don’t know how to explain this.”
Dolores simply waited. That was the entire point of this session. Noctis didn’t know how to explain to his friends and family what he went through in fourth dimensional space. So, at his advisor’s insistence, he was going to try to do it here.
“I saw myself die. Over and over and over. I had to watch and think and feel and…it was like being in a video game, almost. I had to accept that this was the only way. That if I didn’t follow the plan exactly to the letter and sacrifice myself, then I was dooming everyone I cared about to a life of darkness and a violent death.”
Dolores made sure to write this down. “Bahamut did this?”
“Yeah. I think? It was his voice I heard a lot. Sometimes it sounded like my dad’s. Sometimes Cor’s or Gladio’s or even Cid’s. I can’t explain it. I had to sit on the throne again and again. If I didn’t then the simulation made Ignis do it, or Gladio, or even worse, Prompto. And in every simulation, Luna stands there and dies too. She doesn’t fight it. It’s like she just walks out into the battle with her arms spread out and dies. I think they’re really mad that we saved her.”
“Who are ‘they’?” Dolores asked.
“The Gods. They had a plan, and we all screwed it up.” Noctis flinched at the word ‘we’. As if he were loath to implicate himself in this as well. “Luna was meant to die in Altissia. Sometimes I feel like it wasn’t an illusion of Luna. Again it’s hard to explain, it’s like she was also dreaming, and she was just so happy to walk into the fight and die there.”
“How are you getting along with Luna now, if I may ask?”
A long pause of silence stretched on. Then, “I can’t even look her in the eyes.”
“Why is that?”
“She knew. She always knew what was supposed to happen. That was a burden she bore by herself, and we barged into it and forced her to keep living. And now I get it!”
An emotional break. Dolores folded her hands and waited.
“I get the, you know, spending years preparing yourself for death and knowing it’s the only way to end the pain and suffering around you. Being told by the highest authority you know that this is how you save your friends. And then those friends just…force their way to your side again and refuse to let you.”
Noctis bowed his head, a hand on his face. There weren’t any tears, not yet, but there was something heavy ready to burst.
“I love them. I love them so much but sometimes…okay, let’s say their plan works. Then what?” Noctis asked. “Am I king? Do I rule over the rubble? I don’t know anything about building a city. Dad never really prepared me to, because he knew that-! …Do I stand aside and let whatever was supposed to happen, happen?
“What about Ardyn? They say there’s a chance he’ll survive the inoculation, if we can even pull it off. Do I pardon him? Jail him? Execute him?! He hurt so many people, but I also had to come to terms with who he really is. He’s just as screwed over as me and Luna! I don’t…”
“You think death would be easier.”
Noctis sat still for a moment, head still bowed and hand covering his face. Then, he nodded.
“Yep.”
Dolores let that answer hang in the air for a moment. Then, she leaned back and projected an air of positivity. “Well. Let’s answer those questions now. Do you want to be the king?”
Noctis looked up and blinked, not ready for the change in tone. “I’m…I’m supposed to be, right? Like, Ignis and Gladio didn’t know I was supposed to die. Not like my dad. They’ve been prepping me for this…but…”
Dolores silently smiled.
“What is a king, you know? He’s a symbol. He’s just this guy who everyone looks up at and says yeah, he knows what’s going on. Let’s do what he says.”
“Do you think that describes you?” Dolores asked.
Noct shook his head. “No.”
“Then don’t.”
Noctis sat back on the couch and looked at her with a crooked smile. “Oh? That easy?”
“Yes!” Dolores said with a smile of her own. “You know, in Altissia, they don’t have a monarchy? They have democracy. It’s similar to Lucis’ form of government, but without a divinely appointed royal family. Everyone is elected. It seemed to work for them.”
“Oh.” Noctis nodded, but the words didn’t quite seem to be sinking in. “You know, I always thought Ignis would make a better king than me.”
“Hmm. Would Ignis want to be king?”
Noctis laughed. “No. He’d probably be offended if I asked.”
“Can you think of anyone who would be good at being in charge? Someone who would be happy to take that burden for themselves?”
Noctis fidgeted. They both knew the answer to this question. It was so obvious. But Dolores needed to hear Noctis actually say it.
It took a few more minutes, but finally…
“Cor.”
Dolores nodded. “Yes.”
“He’s doing great leading Lestallum. He’s always been great. My dad trusted him with his life. I guess…yeah. I think if there was an election for, uh, leader? Mayor of the country. Cor would win.”
“I agree. How do you feel telling your friends this?”
Noctis’ knuckles went white as he gripped his knees. His mouth pulled into a thin line as he shook his head. “Gladio would be pissed. Ignis wouldn’t hear it. Prompto…Prompto would…”
“Do you think they still see you as a king instead of a friend first?” Dolores asked.
There was a long stretch of silence. “I think I still see myself that way.”
Dolores looked at her notes, then back at Noctis. “Did Bahamut make you distance yourself from them? Emotionally?”
Noctis sat still. Then, he crouched over himself. His shoulders began to shake. Dolores grabbed her box of tissues and walked to the young man trembling on her couch.
“It’s alright,” she said gently. “You can be yourself again.” Dolores didn’t know what she meant by that. Not really. She wasn't sure if she was interfering with some grand, divine plan or the fate of their star by saying these words. All she knew was she had a patient here who did not believe he was worthy of accepting help and friendship, who could not lay down his burdens. And she said what she would say to any patient experiencing that.
Noctis accepted a tissue and blew his nose. “Thanks, Doc,” he said. “Maybe…I should talk to Luna,” he said.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
Noctis nodded. “She was there for me when we were kids. When everything felt miserable. Maybe I can be there for her, now that I understand?”
“Sometimes helping a friend is the best way to untangle our own problems. How can you tell your friends what you’re feeling, right now?”
Noctis looked up at her. “I…forgot that’s why I came here. Sorry. Um…” He shook his head. “I think I still need time.”
“Of course.” Dolores sat back at her desk and made a few notes. Mostly scribbling while the destined savior of humanity worked through his emotions across from her.
“Is there still any place around here that’s safe to fish?”
Dolores folded her hands and smiled. She’d been waiting for that exact question.
“I should like to begin this session by stating I do not believe I require these services. I mean no offense, of course.”
Dolores merely smiled as the gentlemen seated primly on her couch stated his mind so clearly
“Of course.”
“But my partner was rather insistent. In fact, she said you were something of a miracle worker. And while I’ve had my fill of miracles, personally, I can understand why she’d speak so highly of you.”
“Mmhmm. Well, obviously I can’t give you any specifics about her treatment, but Amelia did indeed benefit from my services. Why exactly did she recommend you for them?” Dolores already knew, of course. But she needed to hear it in Mr. Scientia’s own words.
“She believes my priorities are…skewed. Despite the fact that we both went into this relationship with a very clear understanding.”
“And what would that understanding entail?”
“That we would each come second to the other.”
Dolores had heard many strange things from her time counseling the partners of Glaives, politicians, and crownsguard. But this was something else entirely.
“Second?”
“Yes. Her priorities would always be her family, and mine would be Noct. This was our understanding.”
“And now it’s changed?”
Ignis sighed and looked to the side. He seemed to take a great deal of interest in the painting of a flower in a vase sitting there.
“Yes. It has. And I am not so stubborn as to disagree. But…I am finding it difficult to adjust.”
Dolores found this quite interesting indeed. Her time with Noctis was illuminating. The young king was adamant that he would rather be a citizen than a royal, giving the reins over to someone more experienced and capable as soon as possible. That would put Mr. Scientia, his advisor, out of a job.
“Tell me about your relationship with Amelia.”
Ignis raised an eyebrow over his functioning eye. He seemed to take for granted that Dolores would already know everything about this. And maybe she did. But she needed to hear the story from her current patient’s point of view.
Ignis cleared his throat and adjusted his posture.
“From the beginning?”
Dolores nodded. She wanted all of the tea, as the kids said.
“I…had something of a crush on her when we were young. I grew out of it, and considered her a colleague and friend. I admired her intelligence and straight forward attitude. And, since her brother and my charge had become romantically involved, I saw her as something of an ally. Over time I began to feel conflicted about these emotions. As we worked together for a mutual goal, I felt like a deep connection had grown between us. It was only when she impressed me, truly, one evening that I was so taken off guard I confessed my feelings to both of us right then.
“But, although she returned them, somewhat belatedly, we both came to a mutual understanding. Her concern for her brother, and her adopted son, took precedence. As did my responsibility for Noct. We…did not foresee a mutual responsibility coming so soon.”
“The pregnancy,” Dolores said.
“Yes. I…I admit I am very elated at the prospect, as unbelievable as it feels.”
“Why is that?”
Ignis hesitated. “I never really saw myself as a father. At least not by choice. I always assumed I would follow in the traditions of the advisors before me. My partner in wedlock would be chosen by the council, a marriage of political convenience, and any heirs I may sire would be for the benefit of serving Noct’s heirs. That is how I was raised. Of course, that has changed considerably.”
Dolores nodded. “Did you find this…arrangement easier to handle before Noctis returned?”
“Yes,” Ignis replied immediately. “I have considered that already. I am very fond of Kidd. He’s quite adept at marksmanship. Were it still an option, he’d make a fantastic junior crownsguard. A position created specifically because of his own grandfather, even. And he’s quite talented in the kitchen. We do quite well together. And I am, of course, a loyal friend to Prompto. Making Amelia’s priorities my own was easy. But now…”
Dolores waited while Ignis tried to find his words.
“This is honestly a bit silly. I don’t know why ... I have had this conversation with Amelia, I do not understand how having it with a stranger will help.”
“Well,” Dolores shrugged, “since I’m getting paid either way, why not?”
Ignis quirked a smile and shook his head. “Indeed. My priorities have blown up in my face. Noctis does not wish to be king. I have tried to make him see reason, but… if I am not Advisor to the King of Lucis, what am I?”
“What an insightful question. How do we define ourselves? A career is only one way, after all. Many people define themselves by their hobbies, their relationships, their accomplishments. You are a man of many talents, accomplishments, and relationships as we’re both aware, Ignis.”
“Yes. But that is not my problem. I’m… I have never known any other life. I can hardly remember who I was before I vowed my life to Noctis. I was no one at all. A child. And Noct is the same. He has always been, from the day he was conceived, the future king of Lucis. I have begun to accept how he could walk away from that fate. But…I cannot yet walk away from mine.”
“Many people fear they’re abandoning their current identities when they become parents. This is a very normal reaction to have.”
Ignis crouched over himself, placing his face in his hands in a very familiar pose. He sighed, and said without looking up, “Kidd called me Dad two days ago.”
Dolores felt a warmth spread in her chest. Here was the real reason he agreed to be here.
“Did he?”
“Yes. It felt very natural. I did not correct him, nor did he seem embarrassed. It simply happened.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“...like I would sacrifice the entire star to protect him.”
“And that's how you felt about Noct?”
Ignis nodded. He sat back up, cheeks red, eye trained again on that painting. He pointed at it.
“Gradsly, correct? M.E. 710?”
“Oh, perhaps? It was already here when Cor gave me the space.”
Ignis nodded and took a deep breath. “I was not prepared for how I would feel in that moment. I…I told Noct, and he insisted that this was good for me. That I needed to… move on from my prior commitments. The old ways are dead, strangled in the dark of the long night. Let them rest. Those were his words.”
“Let’s talk about that wording real quick. The old ways are dead. How does that apply to your situation?”
“Hmm. At that moment, I felt as if I were being cast aside. But I know he meant I should reconsider the position I was groomed for. I know Noct does not take me for granted. He still means the star to me. He is like my brother. He always has been. I understand Amelia, in that regard.
“But this feeling I have for Kidd, for my unborn child, for Amelia…it’s different. It isn’t lesser or greater, it simply is. I cannot explain it. The old ways would have me push them aside and focus solely on the throne. How I could better serve Noctis. But that throne…it has been tarnished. Noct calls it a monument of his inevitable demise. I will not serve a symbol of his death. But…I am not sure how to continue on being anything else.”
Dolores wrote down, ‘unable to adjust to new career expectations’.
“Since this is purely confidential, I will admit. Truly. I am scared.”
She knew that, of course, but she folded her hands and let him continue.
“I am not so stupid as to think the future will carry on as the past had promised. There will be no maids or servants to raise my progeny in my stead. My wife will not be held to a pre-ordained law of etiquette and decorum that will busy her while I’m away from home. Even before Insomnia fell, these traditions were becoming outdated. But I still expected I would be held to their standard. Now, that pretense is dead.
“I…do not know how to be a father. I am scared that I will screw this up.”
There were no tears. No outbursts or raised voices. Just a statement of fact.
“Well, Ignis, you’d be happy to know that everyone screws this up.”
“That does not actually comfort me.”
“Of course it doesn’t. But it is a fact. And one you will find easier to take as the years go by.”
Ignis was quiet. Then, he nodded.
“I want to backtrack for a moment and address something I think is hanging over your head. Do you believe Amelia truly puts you second to the rest of her family?”
Ignis crossed his arms. He gave this question a great deal of thought. Then, the slightest hint of a smile glowed on his face.
“No.”
“When you spend your entire life on a pedestal, walking barefoot in the dirt feels like heaven.”
“Are you a poet, Luna?” Dolores asked.
The young woman smiled gently across the room. “No. My brother wrote that, actually. He’s been busying himself quite a bit with such things. I enjoy reading it. I think, sometimes, he writes because he knows it makes me happy.”
Dolores wrote in the margin ‘Prince Ravus a poet???’
“Does that particular line resonate with you?”
“Yes. It is something strange, to be raised the way I was. The way my mother was, and her mother as well. We Oracles are treated as inhuman. Something above the rest, with a special purity that must be protected. Everyone I’ve ever known bought into this myth. So of course I took it as fact. It is only recently that I’ve learned how…misguided those assumptions were.”
Dolores looked over the young woman. Her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, edges slightly curled towards herself. She wore a blue dress with sleeves to her elbows and hemline past her knees. Her shoes were flat, lacking any heel. Her face was devoid of any makeup –a luxury item in this time– and lines and curves on her features stood as testament to her more human trials.
Not such a far cry from the Oracle once considered the cornerstone of all Eosian life, but a much more mortal looking one nonetheless.
“I’ve been held to such a high standard all my life. Dress in white, eat and drink with purpose so as not to stain your dress, hide the exhaustion under your eyes, hold yourself high, speak gently, and always be gracious. When the time came for my calling to begin, I was relieved! I could finally do something meaningful outside of the public’s view! My true purpose.”
Dolores easily recalled the images splayed over every television broadcast for weeks: Luna singing to the Tidemother. She appeared as the pinnacle of beauty and grace, even as she took that blade to the abdomen.
“Noctis came to me yesterday. It was nice. We had not spoken so deeply and thoroughly since we were children. I truly missed his company.”
Dolores smiled. “May I ask what you spoke about?”
“...how unfair it was to place the entire star on our shoulders.”
“And do you agree?”
“I’m not sure. I went through so much loss, so much grief and pain. When I was young, the Gods spoke to me. They told me my path, from beginning to end. For the longest time, I feared that inevitable sacrifice. But after losing everything, bit by bit, I began to look forward to it. There’s something comforting in knowing your suffering is part of a greater design. More importantly, that there was a definitive ending as well. And then…”
Luna laughed, short and almost bitter. It was shocking to hear from her lips, even as she sat here a normal human being and citizen of Lestallum.
“And then he simply insisted on barging into my life.” Luna’s eyes flickered to Dolores, then down to her collapsed hands. “Nyx, I mean. He insisted on following me. Helping me. He watched me cry, and scream, and walk barefoot in the dirt. And still, he stayed.”
Her eyes glimmered like crystals as she continued. “Once, we stopped to eat at this small food cart in the middle of nowhere. He practically forced me to. The food was messy, and impossible to eat in the demure manner I’d been trained. But the moment the smell hit my nose, I found myself unable to resist. I ate the entire thing, I had-”
Luna stopped, throwing a hand over her mouth and descending into laughter.
“I had stains from the sauce all over myself. I felt like some beast rummaging through garbage. And Nyx, he simply stared at me with a smile. And called me beautiful.”
If Dolores weren’t a professional, she might have found herself crying right now.
“I could have left everything. I was fully capable. Amelia and Noctis and the others blame themselves for forcing me to live. But the truth is, I had a choice. I could have let go and ascended to the astral plane if I truly wanted to. But I kept thinking of Noct, and Gentiana, my friendship with Amelia. And Nyx. Calling me beautiful. And I stayed.” Again, she chuckled. “I suppose in a way it is still their fault.”
“Do you feel any resentment?” Dolores looked down at the intake paperwork for Lunafreya. Everything about her background screamed depression, but she appeared incredibly self aware of that fact.
“Sometimes. Yes. I was meant to live and die as a symbol, a step in Noctis’ story. And then I was to live happily ever after from the grave as his bride, forever doting on him from my place at his feet. I convinced myself that was enough.”
“Romanticized it?” Dolores asked, feeling a slight chill up her spine at the image Luna painted.
“I had to, in order to continue. But Noct does not want me that way. I’ve secretly known this for a very long time. It was a revelation I kept buried, and yet still I felt like I was betraying some sacred truth when I realized how much I wanted to stay alive at Nyx’s side instead. I know my ending is no longer so cut and dry.”
“How are you finding meaning outside of that pedestal?” Dolores asked.
Luna’s mouth shifted open, a slight parting of her lips that stopped before she could open wide enough to speak. Her eyes drifted slowly across the room. Finally, she closed her lips again, swallowed, and nodded.
“I enjoy reading my brother’s poetry. And Prompto’s photography is beautiful to take in. Ignis is quite a skilled cook, and insists on feeding me incredible dishes when I visit. Gladio has been wonderful in helping me relearn how to fight. I lost so much mobility after the attack.
“Amelia took me out on her motorcycle, and we had such a time dodging demons while looking for animals still surviving. Her son is such an interesting young man. He asked once to read a book to me. And Nyx…”
Luna quickly shut her mouth tight. Her pale skin began beating hot red, eyes wide in realization.
Dolores smiled back. “How does it feel to walk barefoot in the dirt?”
The young woman placed both hands on her face, eyes squeezed tight in embarrassment. But her response was nothing but fits of strangled laughter.
“Guess I was feeling left out.” The king’s shield sat on Dolores’ couch, legs crossed and a lazy smirk on his face. “Everyone else has dropped by, it seems, figured I should come see what the big deal is.”
Dolores skimmed through Mr. Amicitia’s screening paperwork. “History of anger issues?”
Gladio shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah. I was a real asshole. Internalized those family expectations and dropped them even harder on Noct. I’ve gotten a few ass chewings over the years about it. I read a lot of books. Figured some stuff out. When Noct said he was over the whole king thing, old me would’ve picked a fight over it. Like, I’m talking swords out kinda fight. But now?
“Can’t say I blame him. I’ve seen enough. What all this religion and obsession with power does to people. And frankly, I’m over it. I don't regret anything, but I can’t in good conscience pretend like the old ways were leading us to anything good. Not anymore. So.” Again, he shrugged. “I’m just happy protecting people. My sister, my friends, Dr. Yeager.”
“Oh! Dr. Yeager, yes, she engineered my little plant friend here.” Dolores pointed at the small, green bundle of leaves spilling out of a pink ceramic pot on her desk.
“Oh yeah, she’s incredible like that. She makes miracles happen and then acts like it’s normal. She’ll probably end up saving all our asses. I’ve always had a thing for smart chicks.”
Dolores coughed at the unexpected addition to Gladio’s train of thought.
“You’re a pretty good listener, Doc. Guess that’s what you’re paid to do. Hey, has Prompto talked to you yet? That kid needs it.”
“I’m not at liberty to say who I have and have not treated.”
“That’s a classy way to say no. I’ll tell him to get his ass over here ASAP. Well, I’ll head out now. Nice talking to you.”
Dolores smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “And you too!”
“It’s been a very long time, hasn’t it, Prompto?”
The young man sat up straight, hands folded in his lap, and one leg bouncing up and down anxiously.
“Yeah. Sorry, I only sort of remember you when we did those family meetings with Ami. Heh, I remember thinking you were mean because you made my sister cry.”
“For the record, I took no pleasure in that,” Dolores said, trying to meet Prompto at his level of humor.
Prompto returned the gesture with an awkward chuckle. “Soooo yeah, everyone kept saying ‘Prompto go to therapy right now or else’, so here I am! …so yeah, what happens now?”
“We talk.”
“Cool. Cool cool cool. I guess we should get the big thing out of the way? Ami said you already knew about all the clone stuff which is…heh, yeah it’s fine. I’m not mad. It’s cool. Honestly I’m kind of over it? Ami and I joke about it a lot now. Sometimes it makes everyone else uncomfortable but they don’t get it. And that’s fine.”
“Is that what you wanted to discuss today?”
Prompto shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to discuss. It’s like, everyone’s a little fucked up right now, right? My problems aren’t that important in the whole grand scheme of the world ending or whatever.”
“Problems are problems, Prompto, whether we give them weight or not. Why do you think yours don’t matter?”
The young man’s face turned a dark shade of pink, budding anxiety bursting at the seams. “Oh, no that’s not what I meant! It’s like-! I mean, like….” He sighed, leaned against the back of the couch and threw his head back. There came a muted little ‘bonk’ sound as his head hit the wall behind it a little too hard.
To Dolores, there was nothing more interesting than a patient who knew he needed help, but had no clue what for.
“You mentioned ‘everyone’ has been telling you to come here. Did they cite any reason in particular for their concern?”
Prompto, very visibly, bit the inside of his cheek. “Ami says I’m depressed. Dad thinks I’m detached. Ignis thinks I’m too manic. Gladio thinks I’m obsessing over training a little too much. Noct thinks…”
His knee went right back to jumping up and down.
“Take your time,” Dolores said.
“Noct and I…we were like, barely together when he got sucked into the crystal. Right, you don’t know- well, he was sucked into a giant crystal and that’s why he’s been gone for five years. Anyway, we started dating and then a couple months later we had this like, emotional wall between us because of stuff that happened in Altissia. Then we got separated for a while, then we reunited for like maybe a day and then bam! In the crystal.”
Prompto sat back up, looking over at Dolores again. He wrapped his arms around himself, tight.
“I thought things would just settle together again when we got him back. But Noct…he hasn’t exactly changed. Not in any big ways. But he is…different. If that makes sense. And I know I am, too. And that ‘falling’ back together thing I was hoping for…it hasn’t happened. We haven’t even held hands since. It’s been four months. We’ve talked a few times but there’s this…That wall is back. I’m not sure it’ll ever go away again.”
Relationship trouble. Not Dolores’ specialty, but still in her wheelhouse.
“Noctis’ sudden disappearance must have hurt you a great deal,” she began. “You were just starting to patch things up when the opportunity for healing was ripped from you.”
“Literally.”
“Has Noctis spoken to you about his experience in the crystal?”
“A little.” Prompto stood up, stretched his arms over his head, and placed his hands on his hips. Then he started pacing in front of the couch. “He went through his own version of hell. For five years. So did I. Like, really different ways. I’d say his was worse- not that I’m belittling my problems!” Prompto punctuated the last sentence with a little sing-song note; a wink and a nod to Dolores.
“Noct has been my best friend since before I can even remember. We’ve been through everything together. When we started dating, it all felt like this natural thing. Like we were always going to end there. Now it’s all just so…wrong.”
Dolores nodded, not exactly thrilled with what she had to say next. “Is it possible that you’re both nervous about the expectations of a romantic relationship, and it’s standing in the way of you being there for each other as friends?”
Prompto bit his lower lip, stopped pacing, and nodded. “Yeah. I’m just ... It felt so good when we…And Ami is so happy with Ignis and I’m trying so hard not to be jealous. I’ve missed him so much. I thought everything would be better and instead it’s…” He looked back at Dolores. “I guess I should just be his friend again, huh?”
The weight of those words was heavy enough, an Astral could feel weighed down by them.
“Is that so horrible? Your friendship led to your romantic relationship before. Who’s to say it wouldn’t again? Of course, maybe it wouldn’t either. But you’d still have your best friend. And that’s a step in the right direction.”
Prompto nodded. “Yeah. Pretty decent consolation prize.”
Dolores wasn’t one to take walk-in appointments, but the man standing outside her door looked so beatdown and desperate, she decided to allow it just this once.
“Thank you, doctor, you have no idea what this means to me.” The man had unkempt, shaggy hair and heavy bags under his eyes. His posture told of a deep, dense sadness held inside yet his face was accented with a genuine smile.
“What sort of services were you interested in, Mister…?”
“Ah! My apologies for being so rude. You may call me Basil. And as for my visit, I’ve been wrestling with a bit of a, oh what should we call it? An existential crisis, as it were.”
“Of course, though I do feel I should remind you I’m a mental health practitioner, not a philosopher.”
Basil laughed, the vocalization sounding forced and wholly wrong coming from his throat. “Oh of course not, doctor. But you see, the problem I’m facing is one of my place in the universe, as I’m sure many patients of yours go through now and then. I’ve recently come into some information about my past. Some rather inconvenient information, I might add. I lost someone very dear to me, in quite a horrible manner. And I’m afraid I’ve come to realize I had a stronger hand in that…’loss’ than I once believed.”
An icy cold sting gripped Dolores’ chest. Was this man confessing to murder, or simply speaking in a dramatic and poetic manner?
“I’ve spent a good long time feeling I was wrongfully punished for something I was not guilty of. But,” he stopped to chuckle again, “I now believe I wasn’t punished hard enough.”
It was common knowledge that, in the attack on Insomnia, several dangerous prisoners escaped captivity during the bombing. Dolores wondered if she was currently facing one of them right now. He didn’t appear to be in possession of a weapon, but who could really tell under all those layers?
“I know what’s coming. They think they’re being clever, hiding behind their walls and whispering their plans. I’m right in front of them, and they have no idea. I’ve spent so long looking forward to this moment. Years and years waiting for this confrontation, working so hard to facilitate it, make it happen faster. Sooner! But now…now she has taken that from me.”
Dolores, as fearful as she was, had to admit the drama in this man’s words made his story very, very intriguing. So, despite every instinct in her bones telling her to get up, get out, and find Cor immediately, she decided to continue doing her job instead.
“May I ask who ‘she’ is?”
Basil smiled, wider. “A very pesky young woman, whose ingenuity and cleverness I take full responsibility for. She turned my own game on me, and won. I had such plans for the knowledge she holds…but alas! Que sera sera. It would have been fun, though. But now, what she showed me ... I can’t even find it in myself to look forward to, well, Plan A.”
“So this young woman, she’s shown you something that makes you feel responsible for…?”
“A death. Yes. Please don’t cower like that, doctor, it’s quite unprofessional. It was an accident, I might add. Though I am guilty of many unforgivable deeds, this was one I held no premeditation for. But remembering it, the gravity and pain of it all…”
Basil stopped, looked up at the ceiling lights flickering as the power plant struggled to keep up with demand. He quirked the slightest smile at the sight, then allowed his lips to drop back into neutrality again.
“It made me feel human, completely, for the first time in…a very long time indeed.”
Dolores pulled herself together, straightening her back, determined to see this through. “Could you define for me what feeling human is?”
“Sorrow. Love. Fear. An entire gamut of emotions that fall under an umbrella not labeled ‘anger’. All I’ve wanted, for so long, is revenge. To see to it those who I held responsible for my misery were made to feel it tenfold. But my misery was truly of my own making. That I can see quite clearly now. And though the rage lingers still, it simmers gently rather than boiling over onto the fire below.”
Basil folded his hands in his lap, slumped over himself, and chuckled gently.
“So I ask of you, doctor, what happens now? When they come for me, and they will come very soon, how do I find the strength to fight back? Certainly it would be quite anticlimactic to end all of this buildup with my hands in the air, willingly accepting my fate?”
“Does this particular narrative require a physical altercation as a climax?” Dolores asked. “Sometimes a climax can be from emotional catharsis, or a development between the players that feels earned and resolute. Have you considered simply speaking to these people you believe are coming for you?”
Basil looked up at Dolores, one eyebrow raised, mouth agape. Then, he smiled again, threw his head back, and laughed. He slapped his knee, held his stomach, and laughed long enough that Dolores had time to wonder why she hadn’t installed a panic button.
“Speaking with them. How very diplomatic. No, I’m afraid there is only one way for my story to end, circumstance will not allow for anything less. I only wonder if I should make them earn it, first. Or if, perhaps, I welcome my fate with open arms. Maybe…”
His face grew solemn. Deep lines etched across his face. To Dolores, he suddenly appeared as a wholly different person.
“Maybe fate will let me see her again. Hold her. Apologize.”
“Sometimes we feel like we deserve punishment. That through it, we’ll find some form of absolution. But no amount of violence or pain can change our actions. Only you can make peace with your past, Mr. Basil.”
“....yes, doctor, I suppose you’re right.” Basil stood, clapping his hands together as if dusting himself off. “Thank you for our little chat. Send my bill to the king, would you? Oh, and do give the Leonis family my regards. I’m certain I’ll be seeing all of them very soon.”
Dolores saw the man out, closed and locked the door behind him, and collapsed against it. Her heart was beating like a drum against her ribcage, threatening to burst out from the sudden rush of adrenaline.
That was it, she decided right then, she was back into retirement immediately. She’d let Cor know he could have this office space back. She wouldn’t be needing it.
After several moments spent pulling herself together, she grabbed her purse and carefully opened the office door. When she was sure no one was waiting on the other side to surprise her, she walked out and left the building.
Dolores pulled out a small list, remembering to stop by the market on her way to her cousin’s apartment. She was on the mend, getting better every day, but still had trouble with things like cooking and cleaning. Dolores hoped there would be some rice at the market. That was her cousin’s favorite side dish.
As she strolled through the market, she noticed from the corner of her eye a familiar face. There, on the other side of the stalls, stood Amelia’s brother Prompto. And standing next to him was Noctis. They were laughing, faces red and beaming, and between them she could just make out the sight of their pinky fingers intertwined.