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Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the heart of the kingdom of Lucis, a young king lived in a beautiful castle.

The people of his land had once revered him, but he had grown a terrible darkness inside of himself over many years, a darkness referred to as the Starscourge. He became selfish and greedy, taxing his people to fill the castle with the most beautiful objects, and his parties with the most beautiful people.

One night, in the dead of winter, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle, seeking shelter from the bitter storm outside. As a gift, she offered the king a single sylleblossom.

Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the king turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for true beauty is found within.

When he dismissed her again, the old woman’s outward appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The king begged for forgiveness, but it was too late, for the enchantress had seen that the darkness had consumed his heart. As punishment, the enchantress destroyed the king’s mortal body and placed a powerful spell on the Lucian bloodline and all who were closely associated with them.

As years bled into decades, and decades bled into centuries, the Lucian kings, other nobility—Houses Nox Fleuret, Amicitia, Scientia, Sophiar, and Hester—and those who chose to remain loyal to them were forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had slowly erased all memory of them from the people of Eos. 

But the sylleblossom she had offered was truly an enchanted flower.

As each king died, another petal fell from the sylleblossom. The kings were all consumed by the Scourge, and so too were their friends and servants.

However, if a King of Lucis could fall in love with a being pure of heart, and earn their love in return before the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, all who had been cursed would be doomed to roam the derelict streets of the once-magnificent Crown City as terrible daemons for all eternity.

As the generations passed, it seemed all too soon before there was only one petal left on the enchanted sylleblossom. The Final King fell into a deep despair at the end of his father’s life, and as months passed, he began to lose all hope of ever breaking the curse on he and his friends.

For who with a pure heart could ever learn to love a Lucian king?

Chapter Text

Galahd was incredibly boring.

Prompto had lived there most of his life since being adopted by Cor, and he’d found it hadn’t changed much at all in that time. The people were still the same, for the most part, the buildings were the same, the thick smell of sweat and spices from the marketplace every morning was the same, and the way every day panned out was the same as it had been for years now.

Realistically, there was nothing stopping Prompto from leaving and moving somewhere else. He was in his early twenties now, and had enough money in his pockets to afford passage to Altissia…if he could scrape together a bit more money to pay for Cor to come with him, and for them to pay for a ride on the back of someone’s wagon to get to Galdin or Lestallum first.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t as realistic as he was making it out to be in his head, but that didn’t stop his wishful thinking as he breezed through the streets of the sleepy little town he lived in, offering up grins and cheery greetings to everyone he passed on his way into the town centre for the markets. 

Today, all he needed to buy was some more paint.

And maybe another bundle of paper.

And come to think of it, he desperately needed a new paintbrush.

All thoughts of moving to Altissia went out of Prompto’s head as he realised how much new equipment he had to buy today. Altissia or painting? Painting or Altissia?

Painting, he decided. Painting always won.

Besides, if he stopped painting now, he was never going to be able to afford to take both himself and Cor out of Galahd, and it had never really been an option for him to leave Cor behind.

Cor wanted to get out of Galahd even more than Prompto did, but whenever Prompto asked why they’d never just moved somewhere else, he always told him it was too difficult. Prompto still didn’t know what Cor meant by that, but his adopted father had never told him, and he’d never pried. He assumed it was something to do with funds, and so he dedicated his life to painting and selling his work once it was deemed good enough to warrant money for, as well as helping one of the local chocobo farmers most afternoons, for a small payment.

It wasn’t like Cor wasn’t getting any money himself, but it was only enough to keep them living somewhat comfortably in Galahd. But besides, Prompto wanted to thank him for all that he had done for him over the years.

Prompto hadn’t realised that he was daydreaming until he walked straight into someone, stumbling backwards with a startled “Sorry!” as the person he’d bumped into grabbed his shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall. 

Oh no.

He’d recognise that coat anywhere.

Prompto almost didn’t want to look up, suddenly feeling more uncomfortable as he grudgingly glanced up at the taller man, who was still gripping far too tightly onto his shoulders for it to not be a little painful.

Ardyn was staring down at him with that mildly terrifying smirk he always wore around Prompto, some form of dark humour glinting in his eyes as he finally let go of him, albeit slowly. “In a rush, are we?” The older man asked, and the mere sound of his voice had Prompto suppressing a shudder. Ardyn always spoke to and looked at him like he was his next meal, with some sort of weird hunger in the way he acted towards him. Prompto always came out of encounters with Ardyn feeling extremely uncomfortable, like he was just some animal being stalked by a hunter who liked to play with its food before pouncing.

Still, that wouldn’t stop Prompto from trying to be nice.

“Not really, just me being clumsy again!” He laughed, stepping to the side to walk around Ardyn. Much to his chagrin, the man moved with him, not letting him take more than one step before blocking his path again. “But I am on a bit of a time constraint here, so excuse me.”

“I’m sure it can wait a few more moments. I’ve been hoping to catch you so I could give you this.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Ardyn procured a bright red rose and presented it to Prompto with a flourish. The blonde wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the flower, so he ended up sheepishly placing it in the pouch of his paint-splattered apron. “Ah…thanks.” He mustered up a smile before trying to step around Ardyn again. “Now really, I’ve got things I have to do today.”

“Well, might I accompany you? I’ve nothing else to pass the time with.” Ardyn offered up another one of those smirks as he refused to let Prompto go past again.

“I’m sure you could think of better things to do than follow me around town. I’m only buying some supplies before getting back to work, it’s not anything fun.” Prompto wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this one now. He knew Ardyn would just keep pushing, but he couldn’t bring himself to outwardly tell the man to leave him alone, purely out of fear of what he might do to him if he tried. It wasn’t love that kept drawing Ardyn back to him, he knew, it was some sort of horrible obsession or infatuation, and Prompto had no idea what he’d done to warrant such attention.

Frankly, it terrified him.

“Come now, dear Prompto, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.” Ardyn tilted his head slightly, something akin to what a predator might do when sizing up its prey. Prompto was not dealing with this right now, no thank you. He had other things to do, and every second he stayed here was precious time he could be using to work on another piece, if he could just get away.

“Oh, no, it really is. But thank you for the offer, anyway. And the flower.” Prompto took his chance and quickly ducked around Ardyn, walking away as fast as he could without waiting for a response. He didn’t stop until he reached the tiny little artist’s stall at the far end of the marketplace.

“You seem a little out of breath today, Prompto.” The woman running the stall, Monica, remarked as she gathered up the items Prompto had requested. “Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. I just ran into Mister Izunia on the way over here again.” Prompto frowned down at the rose in his pouch, not entirely sure what he was going to do with it when he got home.

“That man needs to leave you be.” Monica shook her head, passing over Prompto’s bundle of supplies.

“You’re telling me.” He sighed, handing a fistful of coins over to Monica in exchange. “What else is he expecting to get from me? I don’t understand why he keeps following me around, I’m really not that interesting.”

“Oh, don’t say things like that. You’re very interesting. You’re unique, it’s no surprise you’ve got…admirers.” Monica leaned casually on the bench of the stall. “But don’t let Ardyn push you into anything, you hear? I don’t know what else he wants, but I don’t want you getting hurt by him.”

“I’ll be fine, Monica. Promise.” Prompto smiled and thanked her for the supplies before heading back in the direction of his house. Ardyn was already trying to push him into things—usually with help from his crony, Loqi—but Prompto had decided that if he didn’t think about it, and didn’t make anyone worry about it, it would all go away.

Cor was inside when he returned, sharpening the edge of his old sword with the piece of whetstone he usually kept by his bedside.

“Are you going somewhere again?” Prompto asked by way of greeting, weaving his way through the clutter of easels, furniture and other numerous bits and pieces that really needed to be tidied up so he could get to his desk easily.

“A town out in Duscae has been having problems with pests in the area.” Cor replied bluntly, not looking up from his sword. His responses to yes-or-no questions were rarely either “yes” or “no”.

“How long will you be gone?”

“A week, at most.”

Cor was a mercenary, and thus was always travelling places. A week wasn’t a particularly long stretch of time for him to be away, though it had always felt like it was when Prompto was a child. The times when he was away for several weeks at a time had been like torture to poor Prompto when he was young, but Cor had learned quickly that a week was the most time alone his adopted son could handle, at least until he was older and sure that he hadn’t been abandoned. Once Prompto turned fifteen, he was able to spend several weeks at a time on his own with no troubles, and now that he was an adult it wasn’t uncommon for Cor to leave for several months at a time, with only the occasional letter to assure Prompto that he was still alive.

So no, a week wasn’t a very long time to him at all.

“Duscae has a lot of exotic traders, doesn’t it?”

That got Cor looking up at him. “Well yes. What do you want me to get for you?”

“A sylleblossom.”

“You always ask for that.”

“And you always try your hardest to bring me one.”

Cor shook his head with a quiet chuckle. “That I do.”

Prompto smiled brightly, settling down at his desk to continue working on his latest piece. It was only then that he became truly thankful for the rose Ardyn had given him, as he realised that its particular colour was exactly the shade he’d been wanting for the wildflowers in the field he was painting, so he now had a reference to mix his paints to the exact right colour. Cor, mercifully, didn’t question where the flower came from.

Prompto figured he probably already knew.

Chapter Text

It had been more than a week when Cor’s chocobo returned to Galahd.

Prompto had been outside trying to politely get Ardyn to leave him alone as he tended to the garden for the past fifteen minutes, and the other man had only just left, though not without gifting Prompto yet another flower—a daffodil this time—when the unmistakable sounds of a distressed chocobo zooming down the street reached Prompto’s ears. He was concerned even before it ran into his garden. He grew more concerned when it registered that it was Cor’s chocobo, Summer.

And that she had no rider.

The watering can Prompto had been holding dropped to the ground with a clatter, water splashing over the ground and running down the slope as Prompto grabbed a fistful of greens to try and soothe the chocobo whilst gently stroking her neck.

“Calm down, calm down, hey, it’s alright.” He murmured, the bird slowly stopping her constant fretful ‘kwehs’ to fill her mouth with the food Prompto offered. It took the blonde all of five seconds to decide what he was going to do, and within minutes he was on Summer’s back, a travelling cloak wrapped around his shoulders and a pouch of food strapped to the chocobo’s saddle.

Maybe he was stupid for doing this without thinking about it first, but Prompto was worried for Cor’s safety, and that worry took top priority here.

“Take me to Cor.” He instructed Summer, spurring the bird into motion. Prompto refused to let himself think too much into what might have happened to Cor, knowing that his imagination had a tendency for going out of control and immediately into the worst situations.

He was sure Cor was fine, Summer probably just got spooked by something, threw him off and ran back to Galahd. That must have been it. 

It had been far too long since the last time Prompto had been outside of Galahd, he realised as he rode further and further away from his home. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, and he could only pray that Summer knew what she was supposed to be doing.

It had begun to grow dark outside, even though Prompto was sure he’d only been riding for a few hours, and it had only been late morning when he left. It was cold, too, despite it being midway through summer.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Prompto questioned Summer, the chocobo responding with a nervous ‘kweh’ and a ruffle of feathers. Something felt off about this track, and Prompto could hear the roars of behemoths and other creatures in the distance. Summer wouldn’t have taken him here unless there was a very good reason, he was sure, and so Prompto decided to continue trusting in the bird for now.

But then there were buildings in front of them, and a whole new wave of confusion and fear washed over him. This wasn’t any town he knew, that was for sure. It was huge, and the houses and storefronts were all beautiful, pristine white or solid black with what appeared to be gold paint detailing intricate patterns along each doorframe and windowsill. Wherever it was, everyone living here was sure to be filthy rich.

If there had been anyone there at all, that is.

There were no lights anywhere, despite it being almost pitch-dark outside now, and no signs of life anywhere, as if no one had lived here for a very long time. Then suddenly, he saw it.

The castle.

Towering far above everything else, it was an imposing dark structure with only the faintest glimmer of light shining by the entryway. Summer stopped at the base of the steps leading up to that light, and Prompto could only assume that this was where Cor must be. Why else would Summer take him here? He didn’t even know where “here” was.

Prompto slowly slid off the chocobo’s back, stretching out his stiff and tired legs as he shuffled up the stairs to the huge double doors, his cloak not doing much to protect him from the bitter cold wind beginning to pick up around him. A shiver ran down his spine, and not just from the cold.

The sooner he could get out of here, the better.

Sucking in a deep breath, Prompto creaked open one of the doors and stepped inside. If the light outside was anything to go by, he figured someone would be living here, and so he’d just ask them if they knew where Cor was, get him back and be on his way.

The last remnants of a fire were sputtering out in the foyer’s fireplace when he entered, popping softly as he shut the door behind him and walked several steps towards the staircase sweeping up from the centre of the room. 

“Hello?” He called. “Is anyone here? Cor?”

“I’ve got a hunch, Iggy.”

“Not now, Gladio, we’ll be found.”

“I’m serious! What if he’s the one?”

“Gladio…”

“Come on, you’re thinking it too.”

“…”

“You know—“ “Hush, Gladiolus! He’s looking this way!”

Was he hearing things? Prompto was sure he’d just heard someone talking from over by the fireplace. He squinted through the darkness to see if there were any figures idling there, but he saw nothing besides what appeared to be a clock and a large candelabra. Shrugging to himself, Prompto decided to head up the stairs, eventually finding himself ascending a set of tightly-wound spiral stairs on his way up a tower.

“That was far too close.”

“The kid didn’t even see us.”

“He looked directly at us.”

“And what’d he see? Nothing but a dumb old clock and a handsome candelabra.”

“Why could you not have been transformed into something that stuck to a wall instead?”

“Probably so I can do this.”

“Wait, where do you think you’re going? Come back here!”

“Aren’t you interested in seeing what happens?”

“I am more interested in not being dismantled by an angry king!”

“He likes us too much for that.”

“I don’t want to test that theory.”

“Alright, you stay there then.”

“I—Gladio! Gladiolus, don’t—and he’s gone. Oh, I am going to regret this.”

He wasn’t sure how he’d come across it so quickly in such a large castle, but Prompto had stumbled upon some strange circular cell at the top of one of the staircases, and inside that cell, sitting slumped against the wall was…
“Cor!”

“Prompto?” Cor was immediately on his feet, grabbing at the bars of the door to steady himself and look closely at Prompto. “What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”

“Summer brought me, I thought you might’ve been dead.” Prompto explained, gripping onto the bars from his side.

Cor made a sound that could have been a laugh, were it not so forced. “Typical. But you shouldn’t have come. This is not a place for you.”

“It’s not a place for you, either!”

“Prompto, listen to me. You have to leave. Forget about me and get away from here. Go and live in Altissia or Tenebrae or anywhere else you want to go, you just have to leave.”

Prompto could feel the tears brimming in his eyes. “Don’t talk like that. I’m getting you out of here and you can come with me to Altissia.”

“Prompto…” Cor started.

“That won’t be an option.”

Prompto jumped back at the voice, glancing around wildly to see who had spoken. He saw nothing but shadows. Composing himself, he managed to snap back an answer. “Why not? He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Oh? Did he not tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Prompto looked back at Cor questioningly.

“This man betrayed a Lucian king because he feared death.” He still wasn’t sure where the owner of this voice was, but he could tell two things about them. The first was that it was a male’s voice, and the second was that he was coming closer to them with each passing second.

“That’s a bit of an overstatement, Your Majesty.” Cor growled.

Your Majesty? Lucian kings? Prompto’s head was spinning. What the hell was going on? Lucis didn’t have a king, they never had. Had they?

This apparent king had drawn even closer to them, and Prompto could now see the faint silhouette of the man standing in the shadows covering the next set of stairs.

“Is it?” He drawled. “Because my father always told me that you ran away and destroyed your allegiance with our family the moment you realised his ascension was coming. You were scared of what might have happened to you.” He took one step further down the stairs, and Prompto was sure he heard the clicking of claws on the stone as he moved.

“Do you want to know what would’ve happened?” The king continued. “You would have ended up just like my father and all of his friends—your friends. Clarus, Weskham, Cid…all of them are gone now, wandering the streets of Insomnia at night as those horrible daemons you were so scared of becoming.”

Cor seemed to be struck dumb, and Prompto wasn’t sure what to make of this anymore. He had no idea what the king was talking about, but he knew he didn’t want Cor to have to stay in this terrible place.

“Let me take his place.” Prompto spoke up after a beat of silence, ignoring Cor’s sudden exclamation of “No!” as he continued. “He did a wrong against your father, not you. Let him go, and keep me here instead.”

The king stepped forward again, halting just outside of the circle of light given off by the torch inside the cell. Prompto could see now that he hadn’t been mistaken in assuming that the clicks he’d heard before were claws—the king appeared to have bird-like talons in place of human feet, his legs jutting back the wrong way, as an eagle’s might.

What was he?

“You would truly take his place?” The king asked.

Cor was outright begging Prompto not to do it, to leave while he had the chance and let him face the consequences of what he’d done. Prompto ignored him.

“Yes.”

“Fine.” The king stepped into the light to yank on a lever next to the door of the cell, and Prompto’s eyes went wide.

He might have been strikingly beautiful, if not for the ways his face and body had been altered and distorted with the features of many different beasts. His eyes were somewhat catlike, the slitted pupils staring directly at him from amidst glowing pinkish-red irises, while dark, shimmering scales covered the area around his eyes like some sort of mask from forehead to cheekbones. A few more scales were spotted here and there along his jawline, too, while two large, twisting horns protruded from the top of his head. 

When he pulled his lips back in an almost defensive snarl, his teeth were revealed to be pristine white and needle-sharp, looking capable of ripping out an animal’s throat with ease, and the hand still gripping the lever was covered in a layer of dark, soft-looking fur, with glinting claws occupying the space where a normal person’s fingernails should be.

Prompto had been right in his observation of the king’s legs and feet before, but what really caught him off-guard—mostly because he had no idea how he could have missed it, even in the dark—were the enormous black wings protruding from his back. 

If he was being completely honest, Prompto would have described the king as looking like a harpy gone wrong. Very wrong.

The cell door swung open with the pulling of the lever, but Prompto had no time to say a proper farewell to Cor before the king had grabbed him and was dragging him away.

“I’ll show some kindness to you for your bravery.” The king said to Prompto over his shoulder as he started to descend the stairs, Cor trying to fight against him the whole way. “You may stay in a proper room rather than a cell. Gladio, Ignis, stop eavesdropping and show our guest to his room.”

“I assure you, Majesty, I was most certainly not eavesdropping!” Someone said from the stairwell. “I was only making sure Gladiolus wouldn’t!”

“And you did a great job of that, Iggy.” A much deeper, rougher voice said.

The king made a sound something between a huff and a growl in response, already halfway down the stairs now.

“I’ll come back for you, Prompto!” Cor yelled up to him. “I promise! You’ll be free again soon!”

Prompto wasn’t so sure it was going to be as easy as it sounded, but he was going to try and believe it for the time being anyway.

At least he’d saved Cor.

Chapter Text

“Come on, kid, let’s show you to your room.”

Prompto had been expecting something strange when it came to Gladio and Ignis’ appearances, if their master was anything to go by. What he had not been expecting, however, was that Gladio and Ignis were going to be a clock and candelabra. 

And now the candelabra—who he guessed was Gladio, going by the voices he’d heard a few moments ago when they’d been talking to the king—was talking to him.

“Hey, come on, if he comes back and you’re still standing here, he might make you stay in there anyway.” 

“O-oh, right…sorry.” Prompto mumbled, slowly starting to walk after the two household items. The castle had appeared so bleak to him from the outside, in the dark, but he could see now that the interior was much more well-looked-after, especially as they moved further into the main parts of the building. The hallways he was being led through now were lit with a warm glow from beautiful chandeliers or braziers, sending light bouncing off the many golden accents and glittering jewels that decorated everything.

“What is this place?” He asked after a while, briefly forgetting the reason he was here as he looked around in awe at his surroundings.

“It used to be the seat of power for Lucian royalty, but now it’s…well, now it’s not. I mean, it kind of still is, but it’s not like the kings have been running Lucis for centuries.” Gladio explained.

“Why not?” Prompto raised an eyebrow.

“It was cursed.” Ignis said shortly, sending Gladio a look that Prompto didn’t quite see. “Lucis forgot about their kings eventually, and now the title is merely a courtesy.”

“Cursed? Is that why you’re, well…” Prompto gestured vaguely at his companions.

“Common household objects? Yes. It is.”

“And why our king looks like something out of an imaginative child’s nightmares.” Gladio added.

“Oh, look at that, we’ve reached your room.” Ignis spoke quickly as he halted outside a set of intricately decorated double doors and gestured for Prompto to open them.

The room was bigger than his entire house back in Galahd, and much better decorated. Where Prompto’s house was cluttered full of art equipment, this room itself was a work of art. Beautiful floral patterns adorned the walls, a huge golden chandelier hung from the roof, and the four-poster bed had was built from what appeared to be mahogany, with more patterns carved into the posts.

A desk was positioned along one wall, a wardrobe and vanity against another. 

Prompto shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when the wardrobe’s doors opened and it started to talk while he was standing in front of it to inspect the design painted on it.

“Is this a guest I see?” The wardrobe asked excitedly, its voice clearly feminine.

“Indeed it is.” Ignis confirmed, shuffling over towards them, Gladio trailing behind. 

“Ah! Welcome! My name is Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. Please call me Luna.” 

Prompto couldn’t help but smile at Luna’s kind voice. “I’m Prompto. It’s nice to meet you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, two footstools burst into the room, running around and barking whilst wagging their little tassels like tails. 

“Not again…” Ignis groaned as he was knocked onto his back by one of them.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ignis!” Luna said as Prompto went over to help the clock back up onto his feet. “Umbra, Pryna, stop it!” The stools immediately calmed down and looked obediently up at their wardrobe mistress. “Prompto, these are my dogs. I apologise, they’re not usually that boisterous, but they haven’t seen me for a while.”

“How come?” Prompto asked, standing up properly again and looking at the footstool-dogs curiously.

“They cannot get into this room unless they’re let in by someone. And of course, the only one in the castle capable of opening doors with a doorknob is the king, and he doesn’t come to speak to me very often anymore.” Luna explained, a tinge of something that sounded like sadness in her voice towards the end. 

“He said my father betrayed the previous king.” Prompto blurted out.

“He’s still grieving over the loss of the last king—his own father—don’t take what he said to heart. I think he’s been looking for ways to lay blame and vent his anger.” Luna spoke softly. “I’m sorry if he hurt you, regardless. These are difficult times.”

“Besides,” Ignis put in quickly. “What Cor Leonis did wasn’t something that had never happened before. I believe it was only taken badly because he had been so close to King Regis.”

Prompto was silent for several moments before speaking again. “How long ago did it happen?”

“It must have been more than twenty years ago, now.” Gladio replied. “Most of us were pretty young when it happened. Some weren’t even born yet.”

“Was the current king alive?”

“He was only a baby at the time.” Ignis said.

Prompto frowned slightly. “Why does he hold such a big grudge then?”

“His father was broken for a long time afterwards, mourning their lost brotherhood for years. His wife had only recently passed on at the time, as well.” Luna explained quietly. “He told him what had happened when he was old enough to understand, and ever since then he’s had this idea that he wanted to find a way to bring Cor Leonis back here and make him pay for causing his father so much grief.”

“And now I’m here.” Prompto sighed.

The room was quiet for a long moment, a melancholic sort of atmosphere settling over the room until a bird-shaped feather duster floated in to fix up the room so it was fit for human occupation. She introduced herself to Prompto as Cindy, but didn’t say much else beyond a “Hope yer doin’ okay, hon.” before taking her leave, Gladio and Ignis soon following with the promise of returning to collect Prompto for dinner later on. Umbra and Pryna reluctantly left with them, Luna instructing them to send her love to Ravus. Whoever that was.

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbled in response to the dinner comment, trudging over to the bed and laying down. Luna watched on.

“Surely you’d take a sandwich, at minimum.” She said, concern evident in her voice.

Prompto shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He repeated.

“You do not have to eat with the king, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He sat up slowly, eyeing Luna carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. He’s likely to hole up in his room and eat, anyway, if he’s still the same as before.”

Prompto thought about that for a moment. “Could you…tell me a bit about him? It’s nice to know about the person whose house you’re staying in, you know? Even if you’re not exactly there because you wanted to be.” He mumbled the last part.

Luna perked up a little at the question. “His name is Noctis. Some of the others call him Noct, but I would advise against doing that yourself unless he tells you that you can. He is the one-hundred-and-fourteenth king of the Lucian line, and the one-hundred-and-fourteenth king to face the brunt of this curse on his own.”

“What about the rest of you?” Prompto asked, now sitting on the end of the bed, listening intently. “You’re all dealing with a lot, too.”

“We are.” Luna allowed. “But there are many more things that affect Noctis, and only Noctis. We cannot help him with those things, we’re only here because we were his court, his friends.”

“That doesn’t seem fair on you.”

“Nothing about a curse is fair, Prompto, we’ve all just learned to accept the unfairness. Besides, it was not Noctis who brought the curse upon his family, or us. He is not to blame, just as Cor is not to blame for fearing death and what would occur after that.”

“Noctis said something about his father’s friends turning into daemons. Is that what’ll happen to you?”

Luna spoke softly, and though she only said one word, Prompto could feel the weight of sorrow and grief behind it. “Yes.”

He was quiet for several moments before asking another question. 

“Is there any way to break the curse?” 

It was less for Noctis’ sake that he was asking—he still didn’t particularly hold a liking for the king after what he’d done, but he was willing to withhold too much judgement until he found out more about him—and more for Luna and the others he’d met so far. They’d all been so nice, and he believed firmly that they didn’t deserve what they’d been given.

“There is, but you needn’t worry yourself about it.” She sounded almost defensive in her response, replying just a little too quickly to be anything but. Prompto didn’t think anything of it. “We’ll be alright, I’m sure.”

Prompto wanted to believe her, but with the uncertainty in her voice when she spoke, he didn’t think things were as alright as Luna was making them out to be.

Chapter Text

Noctis had only wanted to go to bed once he had removed Cor Leonis from the borders of Insomnia, having scrounged up enough decency to make sure he wasn’t killed by daemons on the way out, at the very least. They’d been coming out earlier and earlier since Noctis’ father had died, the nights steadily beginning sooner and ending later. Noct would have gone out to try and fend them off were he not so terrified of recognising the twisted, demonised features of people he’d known before. It had happened last time he’d gone to fight them off when they’d started coming a little too close to the Citadel for his liking, though he knew they weren’t able to get inside.

He’d seen Clarus Amicitia, and he’d almost started crying on the spot. He refused to talk about it with anyone, least of all Gladio and Iris, and he was still shaken from the encounter several weeks later.

He just tried to convince himself that it wasn’t that big of a deal, that he had more pressing matters to deal with. Like wondering how he was ever going to break the curse that caused all those people to become daemons in the first place.

One-hundred-and-fourteen generations and yet none of the kings had found love with someone pure-hearted. The thought never ceased to amaze him. He supposed that it was because all of the kings had married within families that had remained loyal to the Lucis Caelum line all those generations, which meant that they all held the Scourge in their hearts by inheritance, regardless of what their personalities were like.

Which was why even Noctis’ mother, one of the kindest, gentlest people to have ever lived in the Crown City now wandered the streets at night along with his father and all those others. 

Noctis sighed and stalked up towards his chambers. He wished it was easier to break the spell. Pure-hearted people never came from Lucis, Gentiana had told him that much. Most, if not all Lucian families had some historical connection to the kings or other houses that had remained loyal, and therefore could not be pure. 

For one to to be pure of heart, Gentiana had said, they must not have any blood ties to Lucis or be a part of the court of a Lucian king—that was why even Luna could not be pure, despite being the most morally and characteristically pure person Noctis knew, and having her family originate from Tenebrae.

Noctis hadn’t realised he’d diverged from his path and was now standing in front of the cursed sylleblossom until Gentiana was standing beside him, the spectral woman appearing out of nowhere to snap him out of his thoughts.

“You have not been here for some time, Noctis. What troubles you?” She asked.

Gentiana had been left by the enchantress all those years ago when the first king had damned the line of Lucis. Her duty was to watch over the kings, and it was now her mission to guide Noctis and help him where she could. Noctis thought she was too cryptic, and it didn’t help that she could only appear in this one small, open chamber where the pathetic-looking flower sat under a glass dome. She also asked the most obviously-answered questions.

“What do you think?” He growled halfheartedly, too tired to do much else. He hadn’t wanted to come here, but his feet had carried him regardless. A cold breeze blew through the room.

“Time is running short.” She hummed thoughtfully, eyes slipping closed. “Who is the boy you brought into the castle today?”

“I didn’t bring him.” Noctis chewed his lip, his pointed teeth slicing through the flesh after only a moment. He winced. “He brought himself. He’s the son of Cor Leonis. Rescued him and took his place.”

Gentiana hummed again. “His son? I don’t think so.”

“He said Cor was his father.”

“That does not make him his son.”

Noctis stared at her, dumbfounded. “You know, it usually does.”

She offered up a sly smile in response. “Do you know this boy’s name?”

He sighed. “Prompto, I think.”

“Prompto what?”

“Prompto Leonis, probably.”

“Are you certain?”

“Well…no…”

“Perhaps you should ask him.”

“Why? It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Why would it?”

Gentiana only shrugged slightly in response, that smile still playing on her lips. Noctis had had enough. He let out a slight growl and turned to leave the chamber.

“He is not a Lucian, Noctis.”

He paused, head turning slowly to glance back at her. He thought about it for a moment before baring his teeth and growling again. “I don’t care.” He didn’t wait for a response before storming out, definitely bound for his room this time.

That is, until he was stopped by Ignis and Gladio.

“Ah, Noct, will you be taking dinner in the dining room tonight?” Ignis questioned, polite as ever.

“I’m not hungry.” Noctis grumbled, stalking around the clock and his candelabra companion. He wasn’t in the mood to face his friends after his conversation with Gentiana, he never was. Speaking with her was something he rarely did for that very reason. Every time he talked to her, he came out of the room feeling more and more guilt and helplessness about the situation he and his friends were in.

Gladio scoffed. “Typical. There’s two people in this castle who can eat, and neither of them want to. Do you know what the rest of us would give to eat even a piece of burnt toast? We’d give anything.”

“Gladio…” Ignis warned.

“I get it, okay?” Noctis growled. “I get it. And I’m sorry, but that’s just how things are, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Gladio shot back. “Are you even trying anymore? You used to be so determined to free us all, but now? You’ve given up, that’s what you’ve done. Do you even care? I don’t think you do.”

Noctis whirled around to face Gladio, teeth bared and eyes glowing like flames. “Say that again.”

“You don’t care about us anymore.” The candelabra spoke slowly, deliberately.

“Gladiolus!” Ignis scolded harshly. 

Noctis remained still, glaring daggers at Gladio as if daring him to say more. When he didn’t, the king whirled around and continued off to his room, talons scraping the floor with the force of his walking. 

When he reached his chambers, he slammed the door behind him and made his way to his bed, collapsing tiredly onto the plush mattress and curling in on himself, wings wrapping around his body like some sort of shield.

It was only then that Noctis Lucis Caelum, the one-hundred-and-fourteenth king of the cursed Lucian line, began to cry.

Chapter Text

About an hour and a half later, Prompto found himself sitting in the dining room of the castle after some encouragement from Luna when Ignis and Gladio had returned to offer him dinner. He had been introduced to Ravus, who turned out to be Luna’s brother, a harpsichord, who had been convinced—well, forced—by Ignis to come and play some music in the corner of the massive dining room for entertainment. Ravus was very different from his sister, to say the least, and Prompto decided that he would probably take some warming up to compared to Luna’s easy, kind demeanour.

Prompto had also met Gladio’s sister, Iris, who had been turned into a teapot when the spell had taken effect, and her young teacup companion, Talcott. Prompto liked both of them immediately.

“How’s the food?” Iris asked when he was onto dessert. “Would you like some tea?”

“Food’s amazing.” Prompto responded through a mouthful of cake. He swallowed sheepishly when he realised that was probably rude. “Sorry. No thank you, to the tea, though.”

“It’s alright.” Iris laughed. “Gladdy used to be much worse, trust me.”

“I was not!” Gladio complained.

His sister ignored him. “I’m glad the food’s good. It’s hard to tell when none of us can eat anymore, and Ignis used to be the best cook in the castle, but since he can’t cook anymore we were concerned it mightn’t be as good as it could have been.”

Prompto shook his head. “It’s the best food I’ve ever eaten.” He popped another small forkful of cake into his mouth. “If Ignis used to be a cook, how come he didn’t turn into something in the kitchen?”

“Officially, I am Noctis’ advisor, not a chef. Cooking was a hobby when I had spare time.” Ignis explained. 

“Oh. What about everyone else? Did everyone turn into something related to their roles?”

“For the most part, yes.”

From that, Ignis launched into a long explanation of what everyone in the castle had done before the curse had taken effect on their generation. Prompto didn’t pay attention to most of it, but he did get some things.

Gladio had been a secondary advisor to Noctis, and also his chief protector, Iris and Talcott had been junior kitchen staff—Iris was supposed to have been another guard for Noctis, but she had chosen to go to the kitchens while she was training and thus ended up more in that role than anything else at the time of Regis’ passing, as she hadn’t yet been old enough to be sworn in as a guard—Cindy had been a maid and handywoman, and Luna and Ravus had been healers.

Prompto had questioned why the Nox Fleuret siblings had been turned into such strange objects by the spell, but nobody was entirely sure. Ravus had grumbled about how much he hated being a harpsichord, and how he thought he’d been turned into one because he’d been taught how to play as a child.

“I’d have preferred being turned into a sword, even if it meant having to deal with Aranea in an even closer range every day.” He had spat bitterly. 

Prompto asked who Aranea was, and Ravus just scoffed in response. Evidently they weren’t all that close.

“Aranea was much like you.” Ignis offered. “She came here by accident when she was on the run and decided to stay as a guard while she waited for her situation to blow over. Unfortunately, during that time, King Regis died, and because she’d become a guard for Noctis, she was included in the curse. She’s even more bitter about it than our dear Ravus.”

“And she never stops talking about it.” Ravus grumbled.

Prompto decided he wanted to meet Aranea anyway.

Once he’d finished his meal, unable to eat a bite more, Prompto asked if he was allowed to look around the castle a little.

“Of course!” Iris said. “You’re a guest, not a prisoner.”

He wasn’t entirely sure of the amount of truth in that sentence, but he went along with it anyway. He didn’t have much of a chance to respond, however, before Ignis cut in.

“Perhaps someone should show you around. Ensure that you don’t get lost on your way around.”

Prompto shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I do get lost pretty easily.”

“I’ll give you the grand tour!” Iris volunteered.

“Thanks.” He smiled. “Let’s go!”

Prompto stood up and followed Iris as she wheeled out of the room on the tea cart, Talcott staying behind as he’d been told to go to bed by Ignis. Iris led him all around the bottom floor of the castle, explaining various rooms and items as they went. Eventually, they ended up in the ballroom, which had doubled as a training room when they had been human.

And that was where Aranea made herself known.

“Hey, who’s this kid?” A sword asked from where she hung on the wall.

Iris sighed and led Prompto over. “That’s Aranea. Aranea, this is Prompto.”

“How’d you end up here?” Aranea asked. “Accidentally? Because that’s how I got stuck here.”

“Sort of.” Prompto replied with a nod. “It was kind of a rescue mission.”

The sword snorted in response. “Don’t know if you’re brave or an idiot. Probably a brave idiot.”

“Probably.” He agreed.

She laughed. At least, that’s what the sound could’ve been. It sounded quite harsh. “Come chat to me some time, kid. You seem alright.”

“Take that as a compliment.” Iris said. “That’s probably the best you’ll ever get from her.”

“I’ve been called worse as a compliment before.” Prompto chuckled.

After promising Aranea he’d take her up on the offer to chat again at some point, Prompto followed Iris again, and she led him back to the foyer of the castle, stopping in front of the stairs.

“Well, that’s as much as I can show you. Feel free to go and explore your side of the castle yourself, your room’s quite easy to find if you get lost.” She gestured with her spout to the left side of the staircase.

Prompto looked over at the right side. “What’s over that side?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Iris spoke quickly. “Storage space, that’s all. You’ll get dust bunnies in your nose after two minutes over there.”

“Huh.” Prompto nodded slowly.

“Maybe you should go to bed now, you’ve had a long day. You can get someone else to show you around your half tomorrow, if you want.”

“Yeah…” He was still staring at the other side.

“Goodnight.” Iris said, snapping him out of his daze.

“Goodnight!”

Prompto started walking up the left side staircase while Iris was still watching, but the moment he heard her wheel off, he darted over to the other side, his curiosity easily getting the better of him.

Iris hadn’t been wrong when she’d implied how dusty it was over here, but it certainly didn’t look like storage space to Prompto. Really, it looked a lot like the half of the castle he was staying in, just a little more…messy. He peeked into a few rooms, finding nothing much besides dusty bedrooms.

That is, until he walked into an icy cold room with almost no furniture. The room itself was circular, with only a small pedestal in the middle and half of the wall opening out to a balcony. There were tattered curtains hanging over parts of the open wall, but they didn’t do anything to keep the strong winds blowing inside. Prompto walked out a step or two onto the balcony, realising that this room was almost right in the middle of the castle’s structure, and in one of the highest towers. He backed up slowly into the room again, uncomfortable with how high up he was right now. He kept going until he bumped into the pedestal, and only then did he look properly at what was on it.

There was a glass dome set atop it, right in the middle, and beneath it was what appeared to be a near-dead sylleblossom. There were numerous dead petals covering the space around the flower underneath the dome, but only one remained on the stem itself. 

“Strange…” He murmured to himself.

“Such is magic.”

Prompto yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, heart thumping wildly in his chest. He looked around quickly to find its owner, as it wasn’t a voice he’d heard in the castle before now. There was a woman standing near him. She had not been there before.

She wore the hint of a smile on her lips, her long, dark hair cascading down and almost blending in with her dark dress. Her skin was milky white, and she almost seemed to glow.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t…see you there?” Prompto was so confused. How was she human? Why was she here? 

“I should apologise. I did not mean to scare you.” She smiled properly now, taking a step towards him. “You are Prompto. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Um…yes. You too?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry…who are you? Nobody mentioned another human in here.”

She giggled softly. “Because I am not human. My name is Gentiana. I am something of a guardian spirit, I suppose.”
“Guardian spirit? Of what?”

Gentiana gestured at the glass dome and the flower beneath it. “The sylleblossom, and the Lucian kings.”

“Right…” Prompto nodded slowly. “Why?”

“I was left by the enchantress that put the curse on them. I am tied to the sylleblossom, therefore I cannot leave this room. That is why most are not even aware of my presence—only the kings and selected people are supposed to enter this place.”

“Oh.” He flushed sheepishly. “S-sorry, I didn’t know…”

“The people are selected by me.” She smiled. 

Prompto furrowed his brow. “Then why am I in here?”

“Because I let you in.”
“But why?”

Gentiana only smiled again, answering his question with another. “Where are you from, Prompto?”

He cocked his head curiously. “Galahd.”

“Before that?”

Prompto hesitated, a little unsure as to why she wanted to know. He didn’t particularly like talking about his origins with anyone, much less people—or, in this case, guardian spirits—that he’d just met. “Um…I was born in Niflheim. I came to Lucis when I was small.”

“Interesting.” Gentiana hummed, eyes closed thoughtfully.

“What are you doing in here?!”

Prompto almost jumped out of his skin, feeling his stomach drop when he saw Noctis standing in the doorway, eyes blazing—literally. It looked like crimson fire was burning in his irises.

“I-I…uh…I…” He stammered, looking around helplessly for Gentiana, who had disappeared the moment the door had opened again.

“Were you not told to stay away from this part of the castle?” Noctis snarled, stalking towards Prompto.

“I-I was, and I’m sorry.” Prompto backed against the wall as Noctis came towards him. “Don’t blame anyone except me. I’m just…too curious for my own good, and I’m so so sorry.” He finished lamely.

Noctis stopped when he was barely an inch away from Prompto, the flames slowly dimming in his eyes, but the anger remaining in his face. “You’re damn right you’re too curious.” He growled, practically trapping the blonde against the wall.

Prompto couldn’t help but flinch away, shrinking into himself with a cringe as he remembered all the times Ardyn had done similar things to him back in Galahd. Backing him into corners, not letting him get away until he’d gotten what he wanted…he felt trapped, trapped, trapped, and he couldn’t get out, couldn’t escape.

Prompto didn’t see Noctis’ gaze soften, didn’t notice that the king had realised he’d crossed some line, didn’t register when he moved away, talons clicking softly on the stone floor.

“Don’t come back to this part of the castle.” Noctis ordered, the anger slowly beginning to ebb away as he spoke.

Prompto released a loud exhale and slowly looked up at the king, giving him a nod when he realised he wasn’t in any danger and quickly scurrying out of the room. He needed to get outside, just go and clear his head and calm down while he mulled over everything that just happened, from Gentiana to Noctis’ surprising change of mood.

Chapter Text

Prompto wasn’t entirely sure where he was going—he was just stumbling blindly to the entrance of the castle so he could get out. He barely registered himself fumbling with the doorknob, didn’t hear Iris, Ignis and Gladio yelling for him not to go outside. By the time Umbra and Pryna were trying to get under his feet and stop him from walking, he was already halfway out the door.

He batted the dogs away—almost tripping down the stairs into the courtyard in the process—and headed over to the stables he’d left Summer in. Thankfully, the chocobo was still there, and Prompto quickly hopped on her back and spurred her into motion, heading into the dead city beyond the castle’s boundaries.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure where he was going, he just wanted to clear his head. He didn’t think about the monsters he had heard on his way into the castle before. He didn’t quite realise that it was pitch dark outside, and Summer was chirping nervously.

He didn’t see the daemons creeping up behind them.

A deep, guttural snarling pulled Prompto out of his daze, and it was only then that he realised what a stupid idea it had been to come outside. Oh no.

Before he could even form another thought, he was knocked off Summer’s back, landing heavily on the ground with a sickening thud. There was a terrible beast pinning him to the ground and snarling in his face with stinking breath, thick black gunk dripping from its every orifice and landing all over Prompto. It burned when it touched his skin, and he couldn’t help the agonised scream that tore from his throat while he tried to get away from the creature.

Thankfully, it wasn’t an incredibly large beast, and Summer kicked it off her injured rider with a loud “kweh!”, and Prompto managed to quickly scramble to his feet, hot tears streaming down his face and mixing in with the burning black liquid. The salt in his tears made him wince heavily as they touched the wounds, but he realised almost immediately that that was the least of his worries at the moment.

A whole group of creatures had encircled he and Summer, most of them far bigger than the one that had originally pinned him, and all of them much more grotesque and vicious-looking, which was saying something, because that first one had looked extremely capable of ripping him apart within moments, and he was probably going to be having nightmares about it for weeks.

Prompto moved closer to Summer, glancing around for something he might be able to try and fight back with. There was a piece of broken pipe a few feet away from him. That would have to do.

The beasts were clearly waiting for him to make the first move, which seemed odd, but he gave himself three more seconds before diving for the pipe. The very moment he did, there was a collective howl from the creatures and they were all running at him while he started swinging at anything that dared come near him.

Prompto could hear his chocobo screeching at the beasts, flapping and kicking madly, but he was more focused on trying to keep smacking away everything that came at him. More of that awful black goo was splattering him, and he was crying out pitifully each time, but he kept trying to fend them off. 

But he was slowing down quickly, and some of the beasts had already cornered him up against a wall.
This was it. This was how he was going to die.

One of them lunged, and Prompto shut his eyes, not wanting to watch as the thing disemboweled him. He waited for the impact, but it never came.

An almighty roar sounded from somewhere above as a blast shook the very air around him. Prompto’s eyes snapped open, just in time to watch most of the terrible creatures run away as something ripped into one of the larger ones. 

It only took him a moment to realise that the flurry of feathers, fangs and claws was Noctis.

He was taken aback at the ease with which the king fought the huge beast, and the utter brutality in his attacks. Another blast of purple energy surged through the air, but the creature wasn’t scurrying off without a good fight, and before Noctis could dodge, there was a scythe-like arm stabbing through his shoulder. He roared in pain, but managed to gouge the beast with his talons before sending out another blast of magic that sent the creature running. 

He turned slowly to face Prompto once the beast was gone, giving him an unreadable look before collapsing onto the ground.

Prompto made a little startled noise in the back of his throat, ignoring the remnants of that burning black goo still stinging his skin as he went over and bent down beside the king.

“…Noctis?” He asked cautiously. 

Noctis only responded with a groan.

“You need to help me.” Prompto spoke softly. “I need you to stand up.”

Noctis groaned again, but weakly tried to pull himself up. Prompto looped his arm around the king, carefully helping him get to his feet and hobble over to Summer, who had thankfully gotten out of that ordeal unscathed. 

The chocobo ruffled her feathers warily as Prompto brought Noctis over, but didn’t do much else beyond uttering an uneasy “kweh” once the king was unceremoniously hauled onto her back. Prompto muttered an apology—he wasn’t entirely sure if it was to Summer or Noctis, maybe both—and kept close to his chocobo to make sure Noctis didn’t fall off and hurt himself more as he led the large bird back in the direction of the castle. 

It felt like forever before the front steps were in front of them, but at least the king was a little more awake at this point, and was groaning in pain with each step. Prompto said nothing as he helped Noctis off of Summer’s back and up the stairs, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. Now was not the time to be asking questions and interrogating his saviour and captor.

Ignis and Gladio were still in the foyer when they staggered through the doors, and they were both immediately asking questions and showing Prompto where Noctis’ room was so they could help him. Gladio disappeared to go and ask Luna for advice on healing methods, while Ignis watched on as Prompto tried to lay Noctis down on his bed as carefully as possible.

In the space of around ten minutes, Cindy, Umbra, Pryna, Iris and Gladio were all in the room, the latter two bringing a bowl of water, several cloths and some sort of balm.

“You’ll have to do all of this.” Iris said to Prompto, an apologetic note in her voice as she gestured at the things she and her brother had brought up. “You’re the only one other than him with hands.”

“Have you ever done this before?” Ignis asked as Prompto picked up the water and a piece of cloth.

“A few times.” He nodded, dipping the cloth in the water and gently dabbing at the wound on Noctis’ shoulder. The king winced, a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl rising in his throat. Prompto frowned slightly. “Cor came home with bad injuries every now and again, so I had to deal with them.”

“Did he ever get stabbed straight through the shoulder by a ziggurat?” Noctis grumbled through gritted teeth. Prompto had to admit, there was a small flicker of relief in his chest at the confirmation that the king was definitely awake.

He was quickly confused by what Noctis had said, though. “What’s a ziggurat?”

“The thing that stabbed me. ’S a type of daemon.” The king mumbled, hissing as Prompto continued cleaning the stab wound. He was lucky it hadn’t touched his wing at all.

“Those things were daemons?!”

“I thought you knew about the daemons.”

“I wasn’t exactly warned about them. You just said to Cor that all of his friends had turned into daemons.” Prompto frowned, finishing up cleaning Noctis’ shoulder. He noticed that a lot of it had started closing up on its own already, but he reached for the balm and some more cloth to dress it regardless.

“You could’ve put two and two togeth—“ Noctis roared in pain before he could even finish his sentence. Evidently the balm was quite potent. 

Prompto winced in sympathy, but he was still mildly annoyed at having not been properly warned about the goddamn daemons wandering around outside. “I don’t know anything about how this weird magic stuff works.” He snapped. “Maybe it’s obvious to you, but it’s not to me.”

He wasn’t sure if it was that or the balm that shut Noctis up, but the king didn’t respond to what he’d said. Neither did anybody else.

Prompto left once he’d finished wrapping up Noctis’ shoulder, making a beeline back to his room in the other half of the castle. The king had fallen asleep already, so there was no need for him to stay, and besides, Prompto was exhausted himself. He barely uttered a goodnight to Luna when he got back before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep.

Chapter Text

“I want to talk to Luna.” Noctis announced when he finally awoke the next day, thanks to Ignis coming in at twelve o’clock and chiming when he was trying to quietly check on him. Noctis certainly hadn’t been happy about that.

“Prompto is staying in the room where Luna is.” Ignis said.

Noctis didn’t bother to stifle his groan. “Why would you let him stay there? This is exactly the kind of situation that you want to avoid when you put people in rooms.”

“He’s lonely.” The advisor pointed out. “He needed a friendly presence to keep him company.”

“He’s been here for a day. How the hell can you just immediately go “he’s lonely”? He hasn’t even gotten to know anyone yet.”

“Actually, he met a lot of the others last night.”

“Then how is he lonely?” Noctis crossed his arms, wincing a little as the movement jolted pain through his shoulder.

“You of all people should know that you can be surrounded with people and still be lonely.” Ignis said.

That shut him up. Ignis had a point, he knew. Noct had been lonely his entire life, despite having so many friends around him. It was to do with the curse, that much he was certain of, the fact that he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to save them, and since that was the case he refused to let himself get too close with any of them. He had seen it happen to his father, had seen how much it had torn him apart when he realised he couldn’t save his friends. Noctis’ choice of isolation didn’t make him happy, if he was being honest, even if he was introverted and preferred to be by himself. He didn’t want to be alone. Perhaps that was his inner self telling him he needed to find someone to fall in love and try to break the curse with. Like that was going to happen any time soon. 

Gentiana had told him yesterday that time was running out. What did that even mean? He was only twenty-three, surely he couldn’t be dying already.

Could he?

Noctis shook his head to clear that thought away. He hadn’t realised that Ignis was watching him expectantly until he saw that the clock was still beside him from the corner of his eye. 

“Did you say something?” He asked sheepishly.

Ignis sighed. He would be shaking his head disappointedly if he was human right now, Noctis knew. “I said you should stay in bed and rest for the next day or so. You drained a lot of magic from yourself last night, Noct, more than usual.”

Noctis frowned. “Why? How?”

“I thought you might’ve be able to answer that.” The advisor’s tone of voice made it clear that he’d been worried about this since the previous night.

Noct shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t do anything I hadn’t done before.”

“Perhaps you should ask Lunafreya when you speak with her.” Ignis suggested.

Noctis would have been more inclined to talk to Gentiana about it as his first port of call, but maybe Ignis had a point. Luna did seem to know about as much as Gentiana did, and she certainly knew him more closely and personally than the guardian spirit.

“Yeah.” He said after a moment, nodding slowly. “I will.” He would still ask Gentiana, he decided, but he’d do that after he’d consulted Luna.

“I would also suggest speaking with Prompto to make sure he’s alright. He seemed quite shaken about the whole situation.” Ignis said.

“Can’t one of you talk to him? I’m bedridden.” He grumbled.

“You saved him, I think you should be the one to check on him.” The clock pointed out.

Noctis sighed, but nodded anyway. Ignis was right, as usual.

“If I may ask, why did you choose to save him?” Ignis asked after a beat of silence.

Noctis shrugged. “I was standing on the balcony and I heard him screaming, I guess it was just instinct or…something.” He finished lamely. He didn’t really know, in all honesty. Hearing the other young man’s screams had seemingly awoken something in him the moment he heard them echoing through the empty city surrounding the Citadel, and he’d flown over there as quickly as he could, not even giving a second thought to the danger he was putting himself in for this boy he barely even knew.

He was sure Gentiana would have some interesting theories about that. He was even more sure that he didn’t want to hear them.

“Interesting.” Ignis hummed. 

“Have you got something to say?” Noctis frowned slightly. Honestly, he was done with vague answers.

“Not at all.” Ignis began to leave the room. “Keep resting, Noct, you need to regain your strength.”

For once in his life, Noctis didn’t want to keep resting.

Prompto didn’t know what he was expecting when he heard the knock on his door not long after he’d settled back in bed after lunch. He thought that maybe someone was bringing up some salve or something for the burns that the disgusting black goo from the daemons had marred his face, chest and arms with—Ignis had been insisting on Prompto using some of what he’d put on Noctis’ wound last night, but he’d waved him off and said it was fine. From what he had gathered about the clock so far, Prompto wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up being forced to use it.

Either way, he should have remembered what Luna had said about Noctis being the only one able to open doors in the castle, especially when he heard the creak of the door’s hinges before he was even halfway out of bed. Prompto was pathetically surprised when the young king himself walked into the room, and he couldn’t help the startled squeak sound that escaped his mouth in response.

He could’ve sworn Noctis smirked.

“Sorry to bother you.” The king said. “I wanted to make sure you were feeling alright.”

Prompto could see Noctis’ eyes trailing over his face, clearly noting the angry red burns that stood out against his freckled skin. “I’m as fine as a person can be after being attacked by daemons.” He said drily. 

He could see the humour fade from Noctis’ face. “I’m sorry.” That caught Prompto off guard. What was he sorry for? Before he had the chance to ask, the king continued. “I should have warned you better. You were right, I’m used to them, so I didn’t think to tell you. Can you forgive me?”

Prompto didn’t think he would ever hear a king pleading, yet here he was. “I can forgive you for the daemons, because you did save my life in the end.” He allowed. “But you’re still keeping me here like some sort of glorified prisoner, so you know, that’s a bit harder to get over.”

Noctis didn’t say anything for a long moment, but he didn’t get angry about the little bit of sass, which Prompto was both grateful and surprised about. Maybe the king was less short-tempered than he’d first thought.

“Let me heal those burns.”

Prompto immediately snapped out of his thoughts when Noctis spoke again. Did he hear him right? “Sorry?”

“The burns. They’re from the daemons, aren’t they?”

He nodded slowly in response.

“They’ll get infected if you leave them. Badly. It could kill you.” Noctis explained.

Prompto gave him a sceptical look, but decided in the end that he would definitely rather have them healed now, while they were still only raw and stinging, than when his face potentially started rotting away. “Alright. Have you got that balm or something?”

Noctis shook his head and took a small step closer. “Magic.” He tentatively held out his hands, revealing a soft blue-purple light glowing in his lightly-furred palms. “Can I?”

Prompto glanced over at Luna, desperate for her to say something, but she only leaned forward slightly in some form of nod. With a small sigh, Prompto turned back to Noctis and nodded.

The king seemed to relax a little, and his wings shifted slightly as he took another few steps to lessen the distance between them. His hands were warm on Prompto’s cheeks, and the fur felt almost like velvet. Prompto couldn’t help but wince slightly, however, as the magic began to fix the raw flesh on his face, though it felt infinitely better once the pain began to fade. 

He wasn’t sure when he began to lean into the warmth of Noctis’ hand, or when his eyes had slowly slipped closed, but it seemed like too short of a time before that touch had disappeared and he was snapped out of his daze. He could feel the embarrassed flush creeping up his neck already.

“Thanks…” He managed to get out, perhaps just a little awkwardly. He cleared his throat quickly. “N-not just for that. For saving my life and everything last night. I’d definitely be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.”

Noctis shrugged slightly. “I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t helped me, too.”

Prompto hummed in response, nodding slowly. He wasn’t really sure what else to say to that.

“We didn’t really get properly introduced.” Noctis said after a moment. 

“No, we didn’t.” Prompto agreed. Because you were too caught up in your grudge against Cor to ask. He decided not to add that to the end of his sentence.

The king held out his hand. “Noctis Lucis Caelum, pointless king of Lucis. You can call me Noct, if you want to.”

Prompto took hold of his hand and shook it. “Prompto Argentum-Leonis, uninteresting painter from Galahd.” He managed a small smile. “Just call me Prompto.”

Noct smiled back at him, if you could really call it a smile. Prompto was sure he was trying, but through the pointy fangs and the strange way the scales distorted his face, it looked quite odd.

The king seemed to know that, and his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. He hastily let go of Prompto’s hand.

“Do you mind if I stay and talk to Luna for a bit?” Noctis asked after a beat of silence. 

“Oh, uh yeah, go ahead.” Prompto nodded and started heading towards the door. He was almost there when Luna spoke.

“Why don’t you stay, Prompto? I’m sure your presence won’t be an issue.” She said.

He turned around again and looked at Noct and Luna. The king looked a little torn, but nodded after a quick glance at Luna. Prompto shrugged and went back over to sit on his bed.

“I’ll try not to interrupt.” He promised.

“Say anything you want to, you’re a part of this conversation as well.” Luna assured.

Prompto smiled at her, though it quickly faded when Noctis glanced at him, then back at Luna, and then began to talk.

“I guess it does involve Prompto, anyway.” The king said. “I spoke to Gentiana last night…”

Prompto felt his stomach drop. Gentiana had seemed to know things about him already, had she told Noctis all about him? How much did she actually know? What if she knew everything? Did Noctis now know everything about him? He was certain he’d stopped breathing.

“Prompto?” Noct’s voice cut through his thoughts. 

He jumped slightly, but hummed a quick response. “Yes?”

“Is it true you’re from Niflheim?” The king asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, which was good. Maybe he didn’t know about the atrocities Niflheim had committed in the past. Prompto hated being lumped in with everything that had happened there when people found out where he was from, even though he’d only been young when he’d escaped.

“Yes…” He spoke cautiously. 

Luna appeared to be more concerned than Noct did, but it still wasn’t the type of concerned people usually were about his heritage. “When did you get away? How did you get away?” She asked.

“I was really young.” Prompto replied. “Maybe four or five. I can’t really remember much, but I think I got picked up and taken out of Gralea by a group of people, somehow.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t remember.”

That much was true. He really didn’t remember exactly how he’d managed to escape Gralea, but he had vague memories of snow and mountains and many small towns in getting out of Niflheim. What he did remember, clear as day, was being in a field of sylleblossoms somewhere in Tenebrae. 

Prompto vaguely registered that Luna and Noctis were talking again, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. His mind had drifted, and suddenly he was in that field again.

Prompto didn’t know how long it had been since they’d taken him out of that horrible city. He didn’t really even know who had taken him away from there, or how, but he was here now. They’d left him in the town and disappeared, and he only knew the name of the place where he was now.

Tenebrae.

He’d never heard of it before he arrived. He could barely even pronounce it anyway—the words out here were so different to what he’d been taught back in Niflheim, and he generally had no idea what was going on around him because nobody spoke words that he knew. They didn’t like to look at him either. It was like they knew he was different, that there was no point in trying to get through to him because he couldn’t understand them, and they couldn’t understand him.

He’d never felt so alone in his life, even in Niflheim, where most of his time had been spent locked up in dark rooms by himself. 

Well, between the times he’d been taken out and hurt by…someone. He didn’t really know who. He didn’t really want to know who.

Prompto had spent his first night in Tenebrae sleeping on the porch of a building that was full of loud people, but it was warm enough by the door that he’d found himself ignoring the sounds and the terrible smell of whatever was being served to the people inside, and he’d curled up right where he was and gone to sleep. He was found by someone the next morning, and they yelled at him until he ran away.

That night, he slept in a dirty pile of hay next to a pair of large yellow creatures—he was fairly sure they were called “chocobos”, as he’d ridden one at some point on his way out of Niflheim with the people that brought him here. They were warm and cozy, and they didn’t seem to mind when Prompto snuggled up between them and went to sleep.

He was woken up by the sound of yelling again, so he ran as fast as he could to the outskirts of the town before anyone could hurt him. 

He wasn’t sure how, but he hadn't noticed the field at all since he’d arrived. It stretched far beyond where he could see, and didn’t seem to be fenced off or attached to any particular building.

And it was covered with a blanket of millions and millions of blue flowers.

There didn’t seem to be any other people out in the field, so Prompto didn’t feel so afraid as he walked out there. The flowers brushed over his knees and thighs, and for perhaps the first time ever, he found himself giggling at the feel of it. He wandered for some time, his shaky, stick-thin young child legs giving out and causing him to fall every so often. That did not deter him. He kept walking. He wasn’t sure where he was going, really, but eventually he decided to stop and look around. 

He’d walked a long way, for someone so small and weak—the town was at least half a mile behind him, and so he sat down as a reward to himself for walking so far. He could still see over the flowers, but now they tickled his neck and face as he propped his head on his hands. He giggled again, plucking a flower that waved particularly close to his nose from the ground. Its petals were incredibly soft, and upon closer inspection, Prompto realised that there were many different shades of blue splashed upon the flower. He found it incredibly beautiful.

He didn’t realise that someone was coming up behind him until they sat down next to him. Prompto shrieked and scrambled away—something that was mere instinct to him now, having had too many bad experiences in his few short years of life that had rendered him terrified of adults, men in particular.

This man seemed different, though. He didn’t chase Prompto when he moved away, and his face seemed softer, kinder, in a way, than all of the other people he’d met before. Prompto had never really known kindness before, and perhaps seeing that concern in the man’s face was what made him stay and wait to see what would happen.

The man said something, but Prompto didn’t know what. He was speaking like the rest of the people in Tenebrae, and he couldn’t understand any of them, either. The man said something else, though this time the words weren’t anything like what they spoke in Tenebrae. Prompto still didn’t understand him.

“Are you from Niflheim, perhaps?”

Prompto actually gasped, his eyes widening in shock. The man had just spoken words he understood. This was the first time in days he’d understood anything that anyone said to him.

The man smiled and continued talking. “Don’t be scared. Have you eaten today?”

Prompto shook his head.

“Yesterday?”

He shook his head again.

The man sighed and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out an item wrapped in brown paper and handing it to Prompto. “Here. It’s not much, but you need it more than me.”

Prompto took the thing cautiously, slowly unwrapping the paper to reveal a small chunk of bread, about the size of both of his hands put together. That was the most food he’d seen in weeks, let alone been offered. He looked up at the man again, wanting to be sure he was allowed to eat it.

“Go on.” The man gestured at the bread. “It’s yours.”

Prompto smiled and eagerly took a bite. It wasn’t much, but it tasted like heaven to his underfed little body. As he munched happily on the bread, the man continued to talk.

“My name is Cor Leonis. Do you have a name?”

Prompto nodded, his mouth still full of bread. He hadn’t actually known his name until he was taken out of Gralea. Perhaps he didn’t really have one, but whoever had rescued him had given him one. “Prompto…Argentum.” He said once he’d finished his mouthful. He’d struggled a little with remembering the second name, but he got there eventually.

Cor looked at him for a long while, waiting until Prompto had eaten the rest of the bread before he said anything else. “You’re one of those experiment kids, aren’t you?”

Prompto didn’t know what he meant by that. He knew he’d been branded at some point—he didn’t really know when, but he remembered the pain of the hot metal on his skin as clear as day—and he had the burn scars decorating his wrist to prove that, but he never knew what it had meant, or why almost no one else had the same thing. He also knew that they’d done a lot of different things to him in Gralea, but he wasn’t sure exactly what they’d done, only that everything had hurt really badly.

“Never mind.” Cor shook his head. “You’ve got the brand, so I’ll bet that you are. That’s okay.” He smiled. “Do you want more to eat? You’re so small, you must be starving.”

Prompto nodded. He didn’t really know what “starving” was, but he knew he really, really wanted more food. Cor stood up again, and held out his hand to Prompto, causing him to shrink away, thinking that the man was going to hit him. Cor seemed to realise he’d done something wrong, and quickly withdrew his hand back to his side.

“I won’t hurt you.” He promised. “Do you want to come and get some more food with me?”

Prompto shook his head.

“Alright.” Cor said. “Will you stay here? I’ll bring you back something else to eat.”

He nodded slowly. Cor seemed satisfied with that, so he turned around and started walking back towards the town, leaving Prompto sitting amongst all the flowers on his own again.

He woke up some time later, and when he did, Cor was sitting beside him once again, a pack of food set just in front of him.

“Prompto, are you alright?”

He couldn’t help but jump slightly as he was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Luna’s voice. It was only then that Prompto realised he was crying, his shoulders shaking slightly as hot tears ran down his cheeks and splashed onto his lap. He managed to nod pathetically in response to Luna’s query.

“J-just…remembering.”

“About Niflheim?” The wardrobe asked.

He shrugged, sniffling weakly. “I miss Cor.” He admitted after several moments.

It was silent for another few beats before Noctis spoke and began to head out of the room. “I should go…” He sent one more concerned look at Prompto before turning back and making his way to the door. “Thanks for letting me talk to Luna.”

Prompto nodded a response, and then Noctis left.

“Prompto…” Luna started, but he cut her off with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He mumbled.

Luna sighed. “As you wish.”

Prompto lay back on his bed, pulling the blankets up under his chin and curling in on himself. His tears didn’t stop until he drifted into a fitful sleep, memories of his childhood playing over and over in his dreams.

“Don’t go! Please!” Prompto was screaming as he clung to Cor’s leg, his words a mixture of his native Niflheim language and broken Lucian, which Cor had started teaching him over the past few months that they’d been together.

And now Cor was trying to pass him off to some other people to stay with. 

The man seemed torn. He’d tried to tell Prompto that he couldn’t look after him as well as these people could, but Prompto didn’t care. He didn’t want something better. 

“I want to stay with you!” He wailed, pressing his face hard into Cor’s thigh.

Cor was saying something to the other people now. Prompto vaguely understood some of the words—words like “sorry” and “thank you”—but with his lack of knowledge of the Lucian language, he still thought that he was about to be left here forever. He was being prised off Cor’s leg now, and so he started crying harder.

But then there were familiar arms lifting him up, cradling him against a chest he’d been held against numerous times over the past few months, and Cor was carrying him away from those other people, back to the chocobo that was waiting by the gate.

“Don’t go…” Prompto whimpered, too exhausted from the amount of crying he’d done to manage anything else.

Cor held him a little tighter. “You’re coming with me, it’s alright. I’m not leaving you.”

“You tried.”

“That was foolish of me, I’m sorry. I promise you, Prompto, I won’t do that ever again.”

Prompto was happy with that answer, so he wrapped his little arms around Cor’s neck and said—in slow, carefully-pronounced Lucian—“Thank you, Papa.”

He could practically hear Cor’s responding smile.

Chapter Text

It had been a little over a week since the daemon incident, and Prompto had been becoming more familiar with the castle and its inhabitants over that time. He’d grown particularly fond of talking to Aranea over that time, and had been going to visit her just about every day, chatting about all sorts of different subjects and often staying for hours at a time. Today was no different.

“You know,” The sword was saying, “For a Nif, you’re pretty nice. Everyone I knew there were complete asses.”

Prompto raised an eyebrow at her. “You’ve been to Niflheim?”

Aranea laughed. Her laughter had become more genuine over the time Prompto had been talking to her, and now it was much less harsh than it had been the first time they’d met. Prompto much preferred this version of her laughter. “Kid, I’m from Niflheim, just like you.”

“Really?” That was news to him.

“Thought you would’ve been able to tell by the accent, especially because yours seems to have stuck a bit.” She snorted.

“Has it? I’d never noticed.” He admitted sheepishly. He’d never really paid his accent much mind, it was just…his accent.

“I noticed as soon as you spoke to me when we first met. How often did you use Nif language at home in Galahd?”

“Fairly often.” He said. “It was probably split half-half between Nif and Lucian.”

“Well there you go.” Aranea said. “You should get Lunafreya to teach you Tenebraen, then you’d be trilingual.”

Prompto snorted and shook his head. “No thanks, two languages is confusing enough.”

Aranea laughed again. “Good thing a few of the people here can speak both of those languages.”

“Can they?”

“Yes. But not Noctis, because he’s lazy and probably only knows a grand total of five Nif phrases, on top of about ten Tenebraen ones. The kid’s just bad with words in general. So if you ever want to talk in your native language, don’t do it with him. Come and do it to me, Ravus, Luna, or Iggy.”

Prompto nodded in response, his thoughts once again wandering back to the time when Cor had found him—when he’d been unable to understand anything but the basics of his own language. Things likely would’ve turned out a lot different if Cor hadn’t found him and helped him.

“Everything alright?” Aranea asked after several long moments.

He shook his head.

Aranea didn’t say anything else for a beat, but something seemed to fall into place as she looked him. “You were one of the experiment kids in Niflheim, weren’t you?”

He nodded. “I don’t…I still don’t really know what that means for me though.” He said quietly.

The sword sighed. “Well you’ve got a brand. That’s why you keep your wrist covered, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Prompto mumbled, tugging his sleeve down more so that the leather strap he wore to cover the scar wasn’t so stark and out in the open.

“Would you be alright if I saw it? The brands are different depending on the types of experiments they ran—I might be able to figure out what they did to you.” Aranea asked.

Prompto frowned slightly. “How would you know?”

“I rescued kids from those places while I was still in Niflheim.” She explained. “That’s why I was on the run when I came here—I got caught trying to smuggle a kid out of there.”

“Did you work for the people who experimented on the kids?”

“I was a guard.” The sword admitted. “My job was supposed to be to make sure no one got out of there. It was years before they realised I was helping kids escape.”

Prompto nodded slowly, and after a moment, rolled up his sleeve and removed the leather band he kept around his wrist.

He hated to look at the brand, if he was honest. He rarely brought it out into the open, and that was obvious. The skin on his wrist was significantly lighter than the rest of him, and there were less freckles peppered around as compared to his other wrist, too.

That could have also been to do with the large amount of scarring from the brand that covered the flesh.

The mark in question comprised of four short, vertical lines with a long spiral running through the middle of them. It was by no means a nice-looking brand (but then again, what brand was?), but the fact that Aranea seemed to be frowning was causing Prompto more concern than the scarring itself.

“Do—do you know what it is?” He’d hesitated to ask.

“Magic-testing.” Aranea replied bluntly (ironic, because she was a very sharp sword). “The worst of all of the experimentations.” She sighed, the white tassels on her handle swaying slightly, as though she was shaking her head. “The whole point of those tests was to see how much raw magic could be channelled out of magical beings and into the test subjects without the child dying. If they got what they thought was a decent amount into the subject, they would test them more, see if they’d gained power, if it changed their behaviour or sped up how fast they could heal from torture. It was the most terrible thing I’d ever seen, and trust me, kid, I’ve seen a lot of really bad things.”

Prompto stared down at the marking, absently tracing his fingers over the spiral. “How many others?”

“Hard to say. The kids subjected to the magic tests were kept in a different building to the rest of them. I only got posted over there twice in nearly ten years of working there.”

“Did you rescue any of them?”

“One. And that’s how I got caught.” She admitted. “I managed to get the kid and I out of Niflheim unharmed, and I kept her with me until we got to Tenebrae, but…”

Prompto frowned. “You left her there?”

The tassels swayed again. “No. She died there. She was already weak when I got her out, but the magic they’d put in her just kept draining her more and more until she died.”

“Oh…”

Prompto wondered how he’d managed to survive, if the testing was so terrible. He had vague memories of hearing people talking about more kids that had died while he was there, but it had never really clicked until now, almost two decades later. Had the tests done on him been less harsh than the others? He doubted it.

“What was the purpose of the testing?” He eventually asked.

“They wanted to build an army. A powerful, unflinching, unfeeling, magic-wielding army. The tests were an attempt to create the perfect soldiers, so they tortured children from birth to see if they could make them accustomed to pain, they isolated them so they couldn’t form attachments and learn how to feel. And the magic…well, that speaks for itself. They stole magic from creatures of the gods, because they can’t be tamed, and put it into little kids who couldn’t fight it. All they wanted was a source of almost unstoppable power.” Aranea explained, seemingly a little reluctant to do so. 

“But why?”

“Who knows? It’s nothing they passed on to guards, that’s for sure.”

Prompto sighed. “How am I still alive? If the magic-testing usually killed the subjects, why didn’t it kill me?”

Aranea hummed thoughtfully. “I’m probably not the best one to ask that.”

Prompto didn’t think Aranea knew about Gentiana. She probably hadn’t been hinting at going to talk to the spirit about how he survived. Besides, Noct had told him not to go back to that part of the castle.

Prompto was going anyway.

If anyone knew, it would be Gentiana, he was sure of it. He kept reminding himself of that as he snuck up to the room, though he paused briefly outside the door, just in case he heard Noctis nearby. He didn’t, so he grabbed the handle. Or at least, he tried to.

The door swung open the moment he reached out, and he felt his blood run cold at the sight of Noctis standing before him. He internally braced himself for the wrath he was surely about to face.

But it never came.

“Gentiana is refusing to come out.” The king said, clearly a little irritated with this fact. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before gesturing vaguely down the hallway. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Prompto gave him a sceptical look, still not quite sure where he stood with Noct. They were on polite enough terms with one another, but Prompto was still a little unsure. They weren’t quite friends yet, more just people who coexisted peacefully.

“Please?” Noct pressed.

Prompto sighed, but gave it. He supposed if Gentiana wasn’t coming out, he could come back later. “Alright. What is it?”

“You’ll just have to see.” Noctis replied, clearly already in a better mood from his agreement.

“It’s not more daemons, is it?” Prompto offered a tentatively wry smile.

Noct snorted. “No. Can’t have me going out of my way to save you again, can we?”

“That would be terrible.” He agreed, feeling a little more at-ease. He’d learned over the past week that the king had some sense of humour, at least, so their interactions—when they happened—mostly consisted of Prompto trying to tap into that sense of humour through a few well-placed comments. He’d decided that he was going to make an effort to be on good terms with Noct, seeing as he was probably going to be here for the rest of his life, but he was still careful about learning the king’s moods and being sure he didn’t step out of line with anything. So far, he thought he’d been doing pretty well.

But maybe he should ask Noct what he thought.

He was about to do just that when the king in question gently grabbed his arm and pulled him back a few steps.

“Too far.” Noct said, a slight smirk on his face. Prompto hadn’t realised he’d been daydreaming again. He really needed to work on that.

“Sorry.” He looked at the door Noctis had pulled him to. “What’s this?”

“Something I’m hoping you’ll enjoy.” The king let go of his arm and opened up the door, gesturing for him to go in.

Prompto raised an eyebrow, but stepped past the doorway and looked around. The room itself was quite small, and very cluttered—much like his house back in Galahd—and it seemed as though no one had been in there for years. That was probably very likely, actually. Dust covered everything, but there were a few things that stood out to Prompto past the dust and mess.

A large desk, an easel, and the biggest variety of paints he’d ever seen, sitting on the shelf.

“Luna told me you liked to paint.” Noctis admitted from where he stood in the doorway. “I thought you might like to use all of this, since no one else does.”

Prompto was crying, he wasn’t even going to try and deny it. “This is amazing.” He whispered, wiping his eyes and turning to look at Noct. “Are you sure?”

The king genuinely smiled. “Of course. It’s yours.”

Prompto didn’t know what came over him, but suddenly he’d moved, and then he was hugging Noct.

And Noct was hugging him back.

He’d thought about pulling away when he realised what was happening, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Noctis was so warm, and being in his arms made Prompto feel strangely safe, despite how dangerous he knew the king was. He hadn’t been properly hugged for a long time, and he knew he might have been holding Noct just a little too tight for that not to be obvious, but if the king noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Thank you so much.” Prompto murmured, unable to form any other coherent words.

“You’re welcome.” He could almost hear the smile. “I have one condition about you having this room, though.”

“Yes?” Prompto finally pulled back from the embrace, his face just a little warm as he looked up at Noctis. He let go of him, but subconsciously stayed close regardless.

“Let me watch you paint some time?”

“That sounds more like a question than a condition.” He teased.

Noctis rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Fine. My condition is that you answer my question.”

Prompto couldn’t help but laugh. “You can watch me paint, but I’ve got two conditions of my own.”

“You can’t give a king conditions!” Noct whined.

Prompto gave him a look as if to say “watch me”. “You can watch me paint, as long as you can uphold a conversation while you’re here, and if you let me paint you at some point.”

“You want to paint me?” The king seemed genuinely surprised.

“I don’t have anything better to paint.” He teased.

Noctis snorted. “You’ve got a deal.”

Prompto grinned. He couldn’t wait to start painting again.

Chapter Text

Noctis hadn’t realised how enjoyable it could be to watch someone paint.

He’d made the little deal as something of an excuse to get to know Prompto better, partly because everyone kept encouraging him to (“He’s really sweet.” they’d said, “What if he could break the spell?”), but mostly because Noct had been meaning to talk to him more anyway. He felt bad for how he’d come across to start with, but he’d been somewhat blinded by his annoyance at Cor coming back and trying to make up for abandoning King Regis so long ago. Cor made an interesting plea, however, one that had caused Noctis to go and speak to Gentiana to confirm that it was true. That was when he’d discovered Prompto speaking to her, and he’d probably reacted a little too harshly. He still felt bad for making the blonde so scared—he’d seen it in his face, like it was some instinctive reaction to being backed up like that. Noct had wanted to ask what had happened to him in the past to cause that reaction, but thought it could be overstepping his boundaries, especially because they hadn’t been on good terms at that point.

It was true that it had been instinct prompting Noctis to go and help Prompto when he heard the screams start, but he was only just beginning to realise that that instinct had likely been awoken by what Gentiana had told him.

At the time, he’d pretended he didn’t care. Prompto was the adopted son of a man who had left Noct’s father when he realised he was going to turn into a daemon. He was only helping him because it was the right thing to do.

Or because Cor had left so he could rescue children from the experimentation he’d heard about when he’d wandered out of Insomnia one day. Because he’d given Prompto a second chance at life, and Noctis wasn’t going to leave him to just die after that. Because Prompto had a pure heart, and Cor had known that from the moment he’d met him, and he’d wanted to protect him, to save him from ever becoming corrupted by what he’d been subjected to in Niflheim.

Because Noctis realised that Gentiana truly thought that this young blonde man, who’d come bumbling into the Citadel on an almost completely foolish rescue mission out of sheer love for his adoptive father, who loved to paint and spent a lot of the time he wasn’t painting talking to Umbra and Pryna, who Luna had adored from the moment she’d met him, and who Aranea had said she would do anything to see happy, was the one who would break the curse and free them all.

Noctis wanted to believe it, and perhaps that was why he was making more of an effort with this than he had with anything else in his entire life, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure Prompto would ever love him, not after how he’d let himself come across to begin with.

Hell, even if they were on decent terms now, Prompto probably wasn’t even interested in men.

Not that Noctis could really be considered a man. Not at the moment, anyway. And if he didn’t find a pure-hearted lover soon, he’d probably never be a man again.

“You’re not doing a great job at keeping up a conversation.”

Noctis snorted and glanced at Prompto. He’d been enamoured with what the blonde was painting—it seemed to be a field covered with some sort of flowers, with two people sitting in the middle of it—and had sort of forgotten that his end of the deal was to talk to him while he was here. 

Prompto had paused briefly to smirk at Noct, paintbrush still poised in front of him. “Well?” He teased.

“I’m just admiring your painting.” Noctis responded sheepishly.

Prompto laughed. “It’s nothing special. Kind of just a warm-up piece to get back into painting.” He continued painting over the patch of sky he was working on. Noct was intrigued when he noted the dark colour of the paint Prompto was using.

“Why are they sitting out there at night?” He asked.

The blonde almost seemed to falter for a moment, as though he was deliberating how to respond to that. “Because one of them refused to leave that field for many days, so the other one stayed there with them that whole time to make sure they were safe and looked after.” He eventually said.

“Why would anyone want to stay in a field for that long? Didn’t they have a house to go to?”

Prompto shook his head.

“How come?”

“They were a refugee. They’d escaped from…a very bad place a while before then. They were in an unfamiliar place and had nowhere to go.” Prompto had put down the paintbrush by now.

Noctis was worried he might’ve been asking too many questions, but he kept going anyway. “What about the other person? The one that’s staying there with them?”

“He was helping them by being patient. He had a place to go, but chose to stay and make sure they were alright. He waited until the kid was ready to leave the field, and by that stage, they’d developed a trust of him and decided to go with him.”

Noctis tipped his head to the side questioningly. “Kid? Neither of them look like kids.”

Prompto sighed, and it was only then that Noct realised the blonde had tears slipping down his cheeks. “They’re older now, looking back on that memory.”

Oh. Oh.

It had finally clicked with Noctis. “It’s you and Cor.” He stated.

Prompto nodded, but quickly wiped his face and sat up straight again. “Sorry. I’ve been…reflecting on a lot of stuff since I came here.”

Noctis shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. It sounds like you’ve had a pretty hard time.”

Prompto shrugged. “Not exactly. I’ve had a decent life since Cor found me—a few issues here and there, but it’s nothing compared to things I’ve seen other people have to deal with. The worst part of my life was before Cor, but…I never really knew exactly what had happened to me, just that I was always alone and in pain. It’s only been through talking to Aranea that a lot of the pieces have really started falling into place, you know? I…I think I know what happened to me as a child now, and it’s only made me all the more grateful for Cor and everything he did for me.”

Noctis felt bad. He felt really bad. He should have just let both Cor and Prompto go, he shouldn’t have been so quick to anger. He hadn’t thought it through properly.

But at the same time, it was too late now, wasn’t it? He couldn’t just say “You know what, you can go back home to Cor”, could he? He probably could, realistically.

But selfishly, he didn’t want to. He wanted Prompto to stay here, he wanted to see if he truly was pure-hearted, he wanted to get to know him better, to know everything about him. What had happened to him before Cor? What were the issues that had happened since Cor? Why had he flinched away so badly when Noct had gotten him almost up against the wall? The other young man had seemed to have so much courage, yet in that situation it was like it had disappeared completely.

“I have an idea.” Noct ended up saying after a long silence.

“Yeah?” Prompto glanced over at him. “Is it another art room?” He outright smirked. He’d been crying not even two minutes ago, and now he was smirking. Noctis couldn’t help but grin. 

“No. And it’s not more daemons, either.” He teased. 

“Damn, don’t get my hopes up like that.” 

Noctis laughed and stood up, stretching his wings slightly to relieve some of the tension in his back. The wings were heavy, and the extra weight on his already weak back was making it harder to move with every day that passed. Why he had to get wings, of all things, he didn’t know, especially considering how wrecked his back already was from that time he’d wandered out at night and been found by a daemon as a child. It was months before he’d been able to walk again, and the fact that he’d even been able to walk again was thanks to Ravus and Luna’s mother, who had spent just about every waking moment healing and looking after him. 

Noctis almost wished that he’d gotten a big tail like his father had, but unfortunately, you can’t pick and choose with curses. Instead of being more like one thing or another, as many of the previous kings had been, Noctis was a big mess of different features. Catlike in some places, scaly in others, and then with goddamn feathery bird legs, sharp talons for feet, and those stupid wings. 

Noct had never been a big fan of birds. He was jealous of how free they were, and the fact that he’d been given the wings that granted birds the freedom he couldn’t have only made it worse.

“So where are we going?” Prompto asked as they walked down the hallway.

“We’re getting out of here for a little while.” Noct replied.

The blonde gave him a questioning look—one that he thought was undeniably endearing—but Noctis just smiled as he directed him into the Citadel’s library.

“We’re reading?” Prompto sounded a little disappointed.

“No, I told you, we’re getting out of here.”

Noctis led Prompto to the very back corner of the library, where a huge old book sat on a table, absolutely covered in dust. It crossed his mind that it had probably been at least a decade since anyone had last used the book. Hopefully Prompto wasn’t allergic to dust.

Noct opened up the book and blew out a big puff of air to clear the dust around it, brushing off any excess on the page he’d opened up to.

It had been a while since he’d seen the inside of it, but it was still just as stunning as he remembered it to be. A map of Eos spanned across the two pages, the seas moving just as they would be if he’d been flying over them right now, clouds swirling around different parts of the different countries, and little lights glowing where it was dark.

Noctis turned to glance at Prompto, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on his face. The blonde was completely gobsmacked—his eyes were wide, jaw practically on the floor, and he kept glancing between Noct and the book.

“Noct.” He said, seemingly struggling to find words. “Noct, what is that? It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“It’s another little thing given to the Lucis Caelum line by the enchantress. A mean trick, really, because there’s no place outside of Insomnia for beast-kings.” Noctis sighed, but shook his head to clear out those thoughts. “Close your eyes. Think of somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, picture it as clearly as you can.”

Prompto shut his eyes, his face scrunching up a little in thought. Noctis smiled, gently taking hold of Prompto’s wrist and placing his hand on the spine of the book. There was a slight tugging feeling in Noct’s chest as his magic channeled through the book, and then a lurch in his stomach as they tumbled into the void of that magic. It was only a few short moments before they were back on solid ground, and Noctis looked around curiously as he let go of Prompto’s wrist.

“You can open your eyes now.” He said when he realised the other young man still had his eyes screwed shut.

Prompto opened his eyes slowly, and looked around in wonder at their surroundings. Noctis was still trying to work out where they were—it was really just a tiny little house that was mostly empty, save for one bed and a couple of chairs around a table that looked like it was on the verge of falling apart. 

“Where did you take us?” Noct asked.

“Altissia.” Prompto walked over to the window, and Noctis followed him. Sure enough, upon looking out the window, he was met with the gorgeous view of lights sparkling in the canals that ran almost directly next to the house, the occasional boat floating languidly along while music played faintly in the distance. Noct had never been to Altissia—he’d never really been out of Insomnia, unlike some of the previous kings or their court members (like Cor)—but he’d read all about some of its most famous attractions, like the canals and the beautiful art found all over the city.

“Why?” He asked after a moment.

Prompto gestured vaguely at the house. “I lived here for a few months, once Cor managed to get me to leave that field in Tenebrae.”

Tenebrae. Of course. The flowers in the painting were sylleblossoms, that was why they’d looked familiar. The thought of sylleblossoms alone had Noctis thinking, once again, about the possibility of Prompto being the one who could break the curse.

“Why choose to come back here? You could’ve taken us anywhere.” He said, deciding not to go down the path of talking about the curse, or sylleblossoms.

“Do you have a problem with Altissia?” Prompto raised an eyebrow at him.

Dammit, that’s not what he’d been trying to say. “No, not at all! I just wondered.”

Prompto laughed. “I know, I’m just teasing.” He glanced out the window again after a moment, his smile slowly fading. “I brought us here because this is the place where I decided I wanted to be a painter, and also the place where I made the decision that I was going to stay with Cor, if he would let me. It’s basically where my childhood started for real.”

“Prompto…”

“You’re about to apologise. Don’t.” He sent Noctis a small smile. “I’ve only got happy memories associated with this place.”

“You look sad.” Noct pointed out.

“Fine. It’s bittersweet.” Prompto allowed. He was quiet for what seemed like forever before he finally spoke again. “The first picture I ever drew was done at that table over there.” He pointed at the tiny thing in the corner of the room. “It was really bad—just a couple of weirdly-shaped blobs with some criss-crossing lines—but I gave it to Cor and told him that it was us. Me and my Papa. It wasn’t until I was way older that he told me that was the moment he realised how much it was going to hurt to try and leave me with a “real family” once he got me to Lucis. He said he probably realised at that point that I was going to refuse to stay with anyone but him, and he should have just adopted me right then rather than try and leave me with them and put me through the trauma of thinking he was abandoning me because he didn’t want me anymore.” He took a deep breath and looked away embarrassedly. “Sorry, I have a bad habit of rambling.”

“Don’t apologise.” Noct smiled, leaning against the windowsill with Prompto, but taking care not to accidentally touch him with his wing. “I don’t mind rambling.”

Prompto gave him a sheepish smile before turning around so his back was pressed against the window as he looked around the room. “A lot of it’s still the same as when we left it.” He walked over to the small dresser in the corner of the room and slid open the top drawer. “Still some clothes in here.”

Noctis had turned around to watch what Prompto was doing, and now narrowed his eyes slightly at the dresser. “Did you have to leave in a rush?”

The blonde nodded as he shut the drawer and opened the next one. “Someone tipped Cor off one night about some Nif soldiers in the city that were looking for a kid with my description, so we left pretty much straight away to make sure they couldn’t get even the slightest hint about where we were. Cor got all of our essentials together, carried me out while I was still asleep and hitched a ride on a cargo ship that was leaving for Lucis while it was still dark. By the time I woke up we were halfway to…” He trailed off, standing stock still, as if he’d been petrified.

“Prompto?” Noctis took half a step forward.

The young man was trembling—Noctis could see his hands shaking as he turned around slowly with a small pouch in his grasp. “This…” He shook his head and sat down on the floor. 

Noct cautiously went and joined him.

“I’d always wondered where this went.” Prompto spoke quietly as he opened the pouch. He carefully laid out a few items on the ground in front of him—a folded up piece of cloth, a small paintbrush, and a ratty old chocobo toy. Noctis tilted his head curiously, wanting to pick the things up and inspect them, but also wanting to wait for Prompto to let him know that it was okay to do so.

“What are these?” Noct realised it was a silly question the moment it left his mouth, but Prompto didn’t seem to take any notice of the obviousness of the answer.

“My first paintbrush,” He pointed to the object. “My first toy,” He pointed at the dirty little chocobo. “And…” He picked up the cloth and unwrapped it with the utmost care. Noct could’ve sworn his heart stopped when he saw what was in it.

It was a sylleblossom. And a very well-preserved one, at that.

“I picked this the day Cor found me.” Prompto explained, delicately running his thumb over one of the petals. “I’m surprised it hasn’t died—it’s been nearly twenty years since I picked it.”

Noctis furrowed his brow. No flower could still be in such pristine condition after that long, even if the best preservation techniques had been used on it. Not unless there was magic involved.

“Prompto…” He started.

“I know it’s to do with me.” The blonde cut in. “The stuff that happened to me in Niflheim…I know that’s linked to it. I was a magic test subject, if I’ve survived this long I’m bound to have something that’s lingered. I just don’t know what.”

Noctis nodded slowly. He had a theory that it wasn’t just a result of having magic tested on him that had given Prompto the ability to preserve the flower unwittingly, but he’d have to speak to Gentiana about it before he could say anything to the other man. “Do you want to go back now?” He asked after a long moment.

Prompto slowly wrapped up the flower and put everything back in the pouch as he nodded. “Y-yeah. Let’s go.”

Noctis stood up and offered his hand to Prompto. The blonde tucked the pouch into his pocket before grabbing hold of Noct’s hand and standing up, and suddenly Noctis was being hugged tight.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Prompto mumbled into Noct’s shoulder.

“Hey, this was all you.” He replied. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Prompto chuckled weakly and pulled back from the embrace. “Let’s go home.”

Noctis couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest at Prompto’s use of the word “home”.

Chapter Text

If there was anything that Prompto had learned during his time in the castle so far, it was that everyone living there (well, maybe with the exception of Ravus) was incredibly nice. Even Noctis.

“Why did he act so aggressive when I first came here?” Prompto was lounging on his bed chatting to Luna, as had become custom after he’d been off painting for hours. “I mean, he’s been nothing but friendly since then, it’s like we’ve known each other for years.”

Luna giggled. “He does like to pretend that he’s fierce, and I suppose he can be, at times. Really though, he’s lazy, kind, and very lonely. He needs a friend.”

“Aren’t all of you his friends?” Prompto questioned.

She hummed. “We have all known each other our entire lives, except for Aranea. We’re more like a big family that’s been slowly drifting apart over the past few years.”

“Oh…”

“But that’s why we’re all so happy for you to be here!” She brightened up again. “You’ve brought life to the Citadel that hasn’t been here for years.”

Prompto smiled brightly. “Really?”

“Even just from that smile I’d say yes.” Cindy commented as she floated into the room. “Yer practically replacin’ the sunshine that we’re losin’ outside. Everyone loves ya.”

He flushed a little red at that, his smile turning sheepish. “Th-thanks.”

Cindy laughed and turned to address Luna. “Ain’t he just the cutest?”

“He’s giving sleepy human Noctis a run for his money, for certain.” Luna giggled.

Prompto pouted in response.

“Anyway,” Cindy chuckled. “I came up to let y’all know that a certain king wants a certain cutie to join him for dinner tonight. He was too embarrassed to come up and ask ya himself.”

Prompto felt his face heat up a little more. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure. Eating dinner with people was normal, he did it all the time back in Galahd, why would it be any different now? “O-oh. Yes, yeah, tell him yes!”

Luna and Cindy both laughed, and he pouted again. With the promise of passing on the message to Noct immediately, Cindy left, still chuckling to herself. 

Prompto couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gotten himself into something more than he’d bargained for by agreeing to dinner with the king.

“So what’d the kid say?” Gladio queried halfway down the hallway.

“Thought y’all were eavesdroppin’ and already knew.” Cindy retorted.

Ignis was quick on the defence. “Once again, it was all Gladio’s fault for coming up to eavesdrop. I followed simply to prevent he and his sister from making themselves too obvious.”

“Hey, Gladdy’s the loud one, not me!” Iris whined.

“I rest my case.”

“Doesn’t matter who was listenin’ and who’s loud and whatnot. That boy was fallin’ over himself to say yes, so it ain’t no pity agreement, for sure.” Cindy affirmed, trying to stop the potential argument before it happened.

“Should we say something to Noct? He might want to know.” Iris asked.

Ignis made an awkward movement that seemed like he was trying to shake his head. “No. We cannot be sure whether or not Prompto will break the spell, it is best we don’t fuel the hope Noctis already has with more potentially false ideas.” 

“I agree. As much as the both of ‘em seem to be gettin’ more fumbly and flustered about each other by the day—‘specially after Noctis gave Prompto the art room—we don’t wanna go ‘round tellin’ Noct things that’ll get his hopes up.” Cindy said.

“And we don’t know if Prompto is interested in men.”

“He absolutely is.”

“Oh?”

“Yep.”

Prompto was used to the dining room by now. What he wasn’t used to was the presence of no one but Noctis—he’d been spending his meals chatting with Iris, Talcott, and lots of the others, while Noct usually wasn’t around. Gladio had told him that the king preferred to eat alone, even before the curse had taken effect on him. 

The fact that Noctis had decided to invite him to eat with him—and with no one else there—set off a small, happy flutter in Prompto’s chest. He was glad they were getting closer, he really did think Noct was sweet underneath his facade of toughness. They’d just gotten off on the wrong foot.

But at the end of the day, Prompto knew he was really still just a glorified prisoner.

“Is the food in Galahd much different from here?” Noctis asked halfway through the meal.

“Galahdian food is a lot spicier.” Prompto responded after finishing his mouthful of fish (apparently Noctis liked to go fishing in various spots around the castle). “The food here is way richer, but still really tasty. Just different flavours and all, you know?”

Noct nodded. “Wait ’til you try a full Tenebraen meal.” He chuckled. Prompto thought it sounded like a cat purring. “You won’t want to eat anything for days afterwards, it’s so rich.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” Prompto laughed and took another bite of fish. “Is it weird to discuss other food while you’re eating? It’s like if you talked about how much you love moogles while standing in front of a chocobo.”

Noctis covered his mouth to stop himself from spitting out his fish. “What kind of comparison is that?” He laughed.

Prompto pouted. “I thought it was a good one!”

“Right.” Noct sniggered.

“Chocobos are pretty great though.” Prompto mused once he’d finished his mouthful.

“I haven’t really had a lot of experience with chocobos.” The king gave Prompto a funny look when he gasped dramatically in response. “What?”

“We need to change that. Tomorrow, I’m introducing you properly to Summer.” He decided.

“That sounds really ironic, considering that it’s been a weird almost-winter here for my entire life.” Noctis snorted.

Prompto waved him off with a grin and stuffed another bit of fish in his mouth.

Summer was incredibly jittery when Prompto brought Noctis out to meet her the next morning (well, the time when the sun finally decided to come up, which was closer to the afternoon), and it was rather difficult to get her to calm down.

“Summer, come on.” Prompto was cooing, gently stroking the chocobo’s neck as Noctis stood sheepishly to the side. “Noct’s not that bad, you know he’s not. You helped him a few weeks ago, remember? I mean, he was asleep then, but he’s okay when he’s awake, too, he won’t hurt you. Promise.”

Summer let out an indignant “kweh!” in response.

Prompto glanced apologetically at Noct, wishing Summer would just stop and let the king pet her.

“Would it help if I glamoured my wings and horns?” The king offered.

“You can do that?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you do it sooner? We’ve been here for an hour trying to calm her down!” Prompto whined.

“You’ve been here for an hour trying to calm her down.” Noct corrected, the blue-purple light of his magic glowing on his wings and horns, slowly turning them invisible. “I’ve been here watching you try and calm her down for an hour.”

“Semantics.” He waved him off, thankful that Summer had stopped fluffing her feathers and wiggling around now that Noct’s slightly more intimidating features were glamoured. “Okay, come over here really, really slowly.”

Noctis did as he was told, tentatively making his way towards the now-slightly-calmer chocobo. Prompto reached out and took hold of the king’s wrist, gently guiding his hand to rest on Summer’s neck. He tried not to think about the fact that Noct was so close he could feel the warmth radiating off him, and instead focused on instructing him on how to pet Summer properly.

“You have to stroke down her neck gently, you can’t muss up her feathers like you can with a dog’s fur.” He explained, helping Noctis to do as he instructed. “She’ll get upset if you pet her the wrong way.”

“Upset?” Noct gave him a questioning look. “How upset?”

“She might kick you.”

“I’ll kick her if she kicks me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Noctis laughed and nudged his shoulder against Prompto’s. “I’m kidding, she’s too cute to kick.”

“Damn right she is.” Prompto nudged him back, and suddenly the chocobo was forgotten and the two of them were having an all-out nudge war. Nudges turned into light shoves, and somehow Prompto had found a ticklish spot on Noct and Noct had found one on Prompto, and both of them were laughing so hard they could barely see through their tears of mirth as they rolled around on the ground, locked in their tickle fight. 

The glamours on Noct had faded away at some point, but Prompto didn’t really notice until one of the king’s wings hit him square in the face.

And that was the moment he realised he was laying on the ground, pinned underneath Noctis.

“N-Noct—“ He tried to get out, all of his previous elation draining within moments. “S-stop, please.”

The king seemed to pick up on the note of urgency in his voice, because he stopped tickling him straight away and sat up, giving him a concerned look. “What’s wrong?” He glanced down at their position, and his eyes widened as he scrambled off Prompto and sat beside him instead. “Shit. This is like that time up in Gentiana’s tower, right?”

Prompto could only nod in response. His heart was hammering against his chest, and his breathing was shallow and laboured. He thought he might vomit.

“Is it something about feeling trapped?” He heard Noctis ask. “Small spaces?”

A little, Prompto wanted to say, but he couldn’t. He’d always been badly claustrophobic, but that was only the tip of the iceberg here. He shut his eyes to try and will away the erratic thumping in his chest and even out his breathing, but it only made it worse. When he closed his eyes, he could see what had happened, clear as day.

There was Ardyn, backing him up, trapping him and making sure he couldn’t escape. There was Loqi, standing at the end of the dark street to make sure that no one saw what was happening. There was pain, and Ardyn’s breath hot on his face as he made innumerable threats to make sure that Prompto never told anyone about what he was doing…

Prompto felt himself crying more than he heard it. He was shaking hard, and his body convulsed violently as the sobs tore from his throat, while his face grew more and more damp by the moment. He vaguely heard Noctis trying to soothe him, and felt the familiar warmth of Summer come and sit with him, gently pressing into his side. He felt himself move to cling to that warmth, burying his face in soft yellow feathers as a warm hand came to rest gently on his back.

“Prom.” He could finally hear Noctis properly. He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He didn’t want to know. “Are you alright?”

He shook his head weakly, slowly turning to the side to glance up at Noct. He was sure he looked like an absolute mess, but the king didn’t seem to care. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” There was so much concern in those almost-magenta cat eyes.

Prompto had to look away again. “I-I can’t.” He whispered.

“I’m so sorry.” Noctis said after a moment. “This is the second time I’ve upset you by pinning you like that. I should’ve realised what I was doing sooner.”

“It’s not your fault.” He assured quietly.

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

Prompto was silent for a long while before he sat up slowly, though he didn’t lock eyes with the king. He could feel the sheepish flush creeping up his neck, but he spoke his mind regardless. “Hold me?”

There was a brief, tense moment where Prompto thought he might’ve crossed a line by asking such a thing of a king, and he was about to apologise when Noctis shifted closer and gently pulled him against his chest. It wasn’t a tight embrace, as their previous ones had been; Noctis held Prompto with all of the tenderness and care that one would use when holding a small child, as if he were afraid of breaking him. Prompto let out a small sigh and slowly curled his arms around Noct’s waist, resting his head against the king’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“Don’t thank me.” Noctis replied, equally as quiet. “I caused this.”

Prompto shook his head. “None of this is your fault. I…something happened to me, back in Galahd. Someone…did something, and now I don’t like feeling trapped like that.”

“Tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable again?”

Prompto nodded, and that seemed to be enough for Noct. Perhaps the king really did care.

Chapter Text

“Do you know how to dance?”

Prompto glanced up from his painting—he was upholding his promise to paint Noct now, and had been working on his face when the king had spoken up—with a somewhat startled look on his face. “Uh, sort of. Why?”

“I wondered if maybe you might want to have a dance tonight?” Prompto was almost certain that Noctis was blushing, and he himself was starting to feel a little warm too.

“I—uh, yeah, yes, sure! I’d love to.” He smiled sheepishly.

Noct grinned. “Talk to Luna about arranging some clothes for you. We’ll pretend to be fancy and proper.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Prompto smiled. “Let me do this bit first—I finally got the right colour to finish off your eyes. Why’d they have to be such a specific shade of pink? You’re just making my job difficult.” He laughed.

“Just do another painting of me if I ever become my human self again; I used to have blue eyes.” Noct replied.

“What kind of blue? Dark? Light? Multi-shaded?”

He shrugged. “I can’t really remember…kind of dark, I think. Not like yours.”

“Not like mine are anything special anyway.” Prompto snorted.

“Sure they are. They’re not just plain blue, like mine were, yours almost look purple in the right light. Thought you would’ve noticed that, as a painter who’s so good with colours.” The king chuckled.

Prompto put his paintbrush down and sent Noct a sceptical look. “They’re a mess. They’re just this weird mixture of blue, grey and purple, and they can’t seem to decide which colour they’d rather be.”

“I think they’re really pretty.”

Prompto quickly ducked behind his canvas again to hide his rapidly warming face, busying himself with finishing off the finer details of Noct’s eyes. “Thanks…” He mumbled.

It was around ten minutes before Prompto deemed his work suitable, and he finally stood up to stretch with a loud groan as his back cracked. “I feel like an old man.” He snorted.

“You are an old man.” Noct teased, also standing up.

“You’re older than me!”

“Never said I wasn’t an old man too.” The king laughed, walking over and gently poking Prompto’s cheek. “You’ve got a little something on your face.”

“Dammit! It’s because my hair gets in the way, so I brush it away, but then I end up with paint in my hair and on my face.” Prompto whined, trying to scrub at the point Noct had poked. “Guess I’ll have to have a bath before this dance thing.”

“Thank the gods. I don’t want to dance with someone who smells as bad as you.” Noct laughed.

Prompto pouted and gave the king a gentle shove as they walked out of the art room. “Like you can talk. You’d better have one too, otherwise I’ll refuse to dance with you. Can’t have your stink getting onto my beautifully clean self.”

Noctis scoffed and rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Only you would talk to a king like that.”

Prompto sent him a sweet smile. “Hey, you’re the one who introduced yourself as a “pointless king”, I’m just treating you like any other non-king who’s as annoying as you.”

“How rude.” Noct snorted.

“Only the best for my favourite pointless king.”

Noctis shoved Prompto’s face with a laugh. “Go have a bath, Smelly. Ballroom at seven?”

“Sounds fine, King Stink.” Prompto laughed and headed off to his room to get ready. He heard Noct’s responding laugh as he walked away.

Luna practically squealed when Prompto told her about the dance. “I know exactly what you should wear.” She said. “Have a bath and get that paint off of yourself, I’ll sort your clothes out.”

“Thanks, Luna.” He smiled.

The suit Luna had found for him was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing Prompto had ever worn. It was absolutely worth more than what he and Cor had earned together throughout his entire life. The waistcoat and overcoat were both a warm yellow colour, with intricate little patterns detailed in gold along the hems and around the buttons, while a sparkling gold cape of sheer silk tumbled down from his shoulders and stopped just past the backs of his knees. He’d even bothered to style his hair, for once.

“You look wonderful!” Luna gushed, Umbra and Pryna barking their agreement as they sat by his feet. 

“You really think so?” Prompto shuffled his feet sheepishly, face going little red. It was all a bit fancy and overwhelming to him.

“I know so. Noctis is going to be swept off his feet.”

Prompto felt his face warm up even more at the notion, thinking that he probably wouldn’t mind if Noct was as impressed as Luna was saying he would be. He uttered a quick thanks to the wardrobe before hurrying off to the ballroom when he heard the clock outside chiming seven o’clock. Noctis was already standing just inside the ballroom by the time he arrived. 

He looked incredible.

Prompto supposed he’d kind of forgotten that Noct was royalty, with the way they’d been talking to each other, but tonight he looked every part the king he was in his fancy dark blue suit, wings and horns glamoured and hair styled a little neater than usual. Prompto really needed to stop staring, he was probably starting to look creepy.

But damn was Noctis stunning.

“Hey.” The king said, breaking Prompto out of his thoughts. “You look amazing.”

Prompto grinned, a slight blush forming over his cheeks. “Thanks. So do you.”

Noct smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“I should warn you,” Prompto said as he took hold of Noctis’ hand and started walking towards the centre of the ballroom, “Just because I said I know how to dance doesn’t mean I’m very good at it.”

“Don’t worry, neither am I. At least no one’s here to see it.” He laughed.

“Except Ravus and Aranea.”

“They won’t tell anyone how bad we are.”

“I’m not making any promises!” Aranea called.

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Ravus, play us something nice, would you?”

Ravus scoffed from the edge of the ballroom, but complied with Noct’s request and began playing a waltz tune. Noctis turned back to Prompto, curling his free arm around his waist and extending their joined hands to the side. Prompto took the hint and rested his other hand on Noct’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky this isn’t the first time I’ve had to dance in the girl’s position.” He chuckled.

Noct laughed. “Good, because kings always lead.”

Prompto smacked him on the shoulder jokingly as they started to dance.

Or at least, they tried to.

They ended up tripping over each other’s feet instead of moving gracefully, and Prompto realised almost immediately that it was his fault for moving the wrong foot. “Sorry.” He mumbled sheepishly.

“You’re supposed to move the other foot, silly.” Noctis laughed.

“Well I realise that now!” He whined. “I’m used to doing it that way.”

“How come? That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“I got taught that way because it was easier for me, being left-handed.”

“You’re left-handed?” Noctis raised an eyebrow.

“How have you not noticed?”

“I guess I’m blind.”

“Must be.”

The king laughed again. “Come on, we’ll try that again. Other foot.”

It was several minutes before they managed to do it right, but now they were actually starting to dance across the floor properly (and Aranea, mercifully, had stopped cackling from the sidelines).

“You’re not half bad, now that you know which foot to move.” Noctis teased after a little while.

Prompto scoffed jokingly. “Excuse me, I think you’ll find that you were the one moving the wrong foot to start with.”

“Says the guy who changed which side he was leading with because it was wrong.”

“Shush.”

Noctis laughed and gently bumped his forehead against Prompto’s. When had they gotten so close together? Prompto wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t complaining either, even as his face heated up in response.

And then he misstepped.

Noctis stumbled over his foot, talons scrabbling for purchase somewhere on the ground, and suddenly they were both toppling over, neither of them able to grab anything except each other before they hit the floor with a loud thud. Prompto, thankfully, had a softer landing, as he’d landed on top of Noctis, but the king was groaning dramatically underneath him.

“I-I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Prompto rushed out.

Noct’s groans almost immediately turned into laughter. “I’m fine, but this was the worst idea ever.”

Prompto stared dumbly at him for a few moments, but slowly realised that the king really was fine, and it wasn’t much longer before he started laughing as well. “It really was.” He agreed, leaning forward to rest his head on Noct’s shoulder before he could even think about it. Their joined hands were resting just beside his head, and Noctis’ other arm was still wrapped around his waist.

Strangely, it felt completely natural, like they belonged like that.

“Noct?” Prompto asked after a moment, raising his head slowly to look the king in the eyes.

“Hmm?” Noctis was still smiling, and it was setting off butterflies in Prompto’s stomach.

“I…this is probably totally inappropriate, but…” He looked down sheepishly. “C-can I…can I kiss you?” Prompto braced himself to get pushed away, or yelled at, or badly rejected. He knew it was a stupid thing to ask of anyone, especially a goddamn king. 

He didn’t expect to feel a soft hand move off his back and come up to gently cup his jaw. He didn’t expect to have his head tilted back up to look at the smiling king. Least of all, he didn’t expect Noctis to kiss him.

But that’s exactly what he did.

It didn’t register in Prompto’s mind for several seconds, but the moment it did he was kissing Noctis back, soft and tender. He’d kissed other people before, sure, but none of them had felt quite like this. There was something magical in the very air around them, and not just in a cheesy poetic sense, it was almost as if something had awoken within him—and quite possibly Noctis, as well—the moment their lips first brushed together.

Too soon, they pulled apart, that magic still crackling in the air as they panted softly.

“You can.” Noct whispered after a moment. “Really well.”

Prompto let out a breathy laugh. “Not so bad yourself, for a guy with cat teeth.”

The king snorted. “Ouch.”

Prompto smiled sweetly in response before slowly moving to sit up properly. “So, do you want to attempt to dance again now?”

“Not really.” Noctis chuckled and sat up as well. “I’ve got another idea though.”

A few minutes later, they were up in Gentiana’s tower, and Prompto was wondering why Noct’s mood had faded so quickly. Was it because of the kiss?

“Here.” Noctis said, handing him a small mirror. Gentiana stood to the side, an almost sad expression on her face. “You miss Cor, right?”

“Well, yeah. Why?” Prompto stared at the mirror confusedly.

“The mirror will show you him, if you ask it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hey, mirror, can I see Cor?” He asked slowly. He was so focused on the mirror that he didn’t see the look exchanged between Noctis and Gentiana.

Prompto almost dropped the mirror when the image of his adoptive father appeared. Cor was beaten and bloodied, slumped on one of the chairs in their house and looking right on the verge of passing out. “W-what? Who…why…” He glanced up at Noctis, tears falling from his eyes. “Did you know about this?”

Noctis shook his head.

“Gentiana?”

The spirit closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “I knew things were amiss in Galahd, although this has only just happened. It occurred only a minute before you arrived.”

Prompto stared dumbly at the image of Cor in the mirror. “I have to go back.” He said quietly after a long moment. “I have to help him.” He looked up at Noctis desperately. “Please, Noct, I have to make sure he’s alright.”

Noctis bit his lip. “I know.” His gaze flicked to the near-dead sylleblossom for a brief moment. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve taken you apart.”

Prompto shook his head, stepping forward to gingerly rest his hand on the king’s cheek, the scales warm under his fingers. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He felt Noct lean into his hand a little, though he didn’t say anything else. “Thank you for everything.” Prompto pressed a gentle kiss to Noctis’ other cheek before taking a step back to start heading out, but before he managed to go more than two steps, he was being pulled back into a tight embrace.

“Stay safe.” Noct whispered into his ear.

Prompto gripped the back of Noctis’ midnight-blue jacket, just below the beautiful wings that the king had de-glamoured since they came up here. “You too.” 

They stayed like that for several more moments before Prompto pulled away again, really going this time. “Goodbye, Noct.” He hated that it sounded so final, that perhaps it really was final.

As he walked out the door, he could’ve sworn he heard a faint whisper that sounded something like “I love you.”

Chapter Text

Noctis didn’t know why he’d done it. Any of it.

Why he had kissed Prompto when he knew he was going to show him the mirror. Why he had even shown Prompto the mirror in the first place, knowing full well that whatever it showed would make the blonde want to go back to Cor. Why he had let Prompto go when everyone knew he was Noct’s only shot at breaking the curse. Why he had hugged Prompto again before he left, possibly forever, and not taken one last chance to kiss him again.

Why he had let the broken whisper of “I love you” pass his lips just after Prompto had walked out.

“Noctis…” Gentiana started.

“Don’t.” He spoke quickly, turning to walk out onto the balcony. “Just don’t. I know this is probably the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but you know why I did it.”

“Because you love him so much, yes.” She nodded. “Perhaps you shall see him again. He will need you as much as you need him.”

“Just stop, Gentiana, please.” Noctis begged, a few tears spilling down his cheeks. “He doesn’t need me, and I don’t want to talk about this.”

He didn’t wait for Gentiana to respond before he took off into the night air, wings beating something furious in his attempt to get out of there quickly. He flew up to one of the highest points of the Citadel and perched himself on the edge, looking down at the courtyard and watching the small yellow spot that was Prompto riding off on Summer. The daemons seemed to be leaving them alone, oddly.

Noctis shook his head. There really was something different about Prompto, Gentiana had been right from the start. Pure-hearted beings had a special kind of magic within them, she had said, one that can cleanse and calm, and bring light to even the darkest places in Eos. He had felt something when they kissed, some mixture of magic in the air that wasn’t entirely his, but wasn’t entirely what Gentiana would describe as “pure magic”, either. There was something else, something beyond his own mostly-destructive magic and Prompto’s pureness, something that had been present in the sylleblossom that Prompto had found in Altissia, that he had unwittingly preserved for two decades. It was something cold, but not dark. Far from it, in fact. Noctis just didn’t know what it was.

If only Prompto hadn’t left, maybe he might’ve found out eventually.

Noctis sighed and stretched his wings out. He’d gotten used to having Prompto around the place, it was going to be hard without him to liven the Citadel up. He supposed Cor would be happy to have Prompto and his almost sunshine-like demeanour back in Galahd, but that didn’t mean Noct wasn’t still going to walk around the castle and expect to see him wander in, all covered in paint, grinning and having a conversation with Umbra and Pryna like they were people.

If he just closed his eyes, he could imagine that Prompto was sitting up here with him instead of riding away on a chocobo down on the ground. He could almost feel his warmth, hear his laughter, smell the scent of paint and flowers that always clung to him…

What Noctis could really feel, though, was the dampness of tears sliding down his cheeks, what he could hear was himself sobbing quietly, and what he could smell was the blood dribbling off his hands where his claws had dug too hard into the flesh.

Every person he had loved, he had lost in some way or another.

His parents, turned into daemons that he’s probably had to attack at some point.

His friends, slowly drifting away from him and each other because of the mistakes of one of his ancestors.

Prompto…

He didn’t even want to think about what might happen to everyone else now that he had lost Prompto, as well.

“You want to explain exactly what you did?” Gladio demanded when Noctis finally dragged himself back inside. The candelabra looked livid, and for once Ignis wasn’t doing anything to get him to cool off. Perhaps he’d already tried and failed.

“I let him go.” Noctis stated blandly.

“In what world did you think that’d be a good idea? You knew he was the only chance at breaking the spell you were going to get, and you just let him go?” 

“Yes.”

“Are you delusional?” 

Noctis growled lowly, glaring at Gladio. “You want to know why I let him go? It’s because his father is hurt badly and is in danger of getting hurt more. It’s because he looked at me so desperately and begged me to let him go and help Cor. It’s because I love him, dammit!” He was yelling by the end, tears spilling from his eyes and blurring his vision.

Gladio seemed to be about to say something else, but this time, Ignis interrupted him.

“That’s enough, Gladiolus.” He spoke sternly. “It’s too late to change anything now, we just have to accept what’s been done.”

“Accept that Noct gave up again, you mean?” Gladio retorted.

“Just because you’re worried about being turned into a daemon—“ Noct started, but was quickly interrupted by Gladio again.

“I’m not worried about me! I’m worried about Iris and Talcott, and how they feel about it. Talcott’s still just a kid, Iris is barely an adult, you think they’re okay with facing something even worse than death at that age?”

Noctis stared at the floor in silence for a long while, letting his friend’s words sink in. Eventually, he sighed and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could have, I would’ve saved you all and paid the price on my own, but we know why that didn’t happen. We were all too young when my father died, no one had even thought of leaving, and I hadn’t thought about sending any of you away to save you, so there was no way that anyone could’ve avoided it. And I’m sorry about that, but this is how it is now. I know I’m stupid, I know I probably made the biggest mistake of my life by letting Prompto go, and I know that you and probably everyone else is mad at me for it, but forcing him to stay here when he needed to go to Cor wasn’t going to make him love me. There would’ve been no chance at all to break the curse, and when we all died and became daemons, we probably would’ve killed him before he could escape. He would’ve had as miserable an existence as all of us. I didn’t want to make that same mistake with him that I made with all of you. I’m sorry.”

Gladio let out a long sigh once Noctis had finished, but it was Ignis who replied. 

“You’re a good man, Noctis.” The clock said. “I think you made the right choice in letting Prompto return to Cor.”

“Thanks, Ignis.” Noctis mumbled with a sigh. “I just wish I could’ve set you guys free, too.”

“It’s no use dwelling on that now. There’s nothing to be done except remain here for each other until the end, however far into the future that may be.”

Noct nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor as he slowly turned away. “I’m going to go and talk to Luna.” He didn’t wait for a response before he hurried out of the room. 

Going to the room that Prompto had been staying in was a special kind of pain in itself. Knowing that he’d walked along these hallways and probably never would again hurt almost as much as knowing how upset Luna would be.

Umbra and Pryna both sat up abruptly from where they were laying by the bed when Noctis walked in, tassel-tails wagging enthusiastically for a few seconds before slowing down upon their realisation that he wasn’t Prompto. They still swished from side to side slowly, but both creatures sat down again and simply watched him when Prompto didn’t come in with him. Both of the dogs had seemed a little more reluctant to try and play with him since the curse had taken effect, but thankfully neither of them seemed to completely hate him, so at least he had that.

“You set him free.” Luna stated quietly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Noctis nodded, slowly moving to sit on the bed. He was a little reluctant to do so, knowing that it was where Prompto had been sleeping (and probably sitting like he currently was, too), but his back ached like hell and he needed to rest.

“You look ill, Noctis.”

“I feel ill.” He replied. 

“The loss of one you love so much can have that effect.” She sighed.

Of course. Luna had lost someone when Noct’s father had died, one of his younger guards. Now that Noct thought about it, he remembered that that guard’s family had come from Galahd, too. “Prompto isn’t even dead though. You had good reason to be so torn up over Nyx when he died, I don’t have the right to be upset when I’m the one who let Prompto leave, when he’s still alive.”

“You are still allowed to grieve.” Luna said, almost urgently. “Noctis, don’t think you aren’t allowed to be upset, you have still lost someone you love, even if he is not dead. You’re missing his presence, and you’re allowed to let that affect you. I’m not expecting you to move on quickly, and I’m not expecting him to, either.”

Noctis glanced up from staring at his lap to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I think he was falling for you just as much as you were for him.”

He scoffed. “I really doubt that. Just because he kissed me doesn’t mean he loves me.”

“He kissed you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think that means that he might have had even the slightest feelings for you?”

Noct shrugged, looking back at his lap defeatedly. Luna was right. Luna was always right. “I…I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m dumb, Luna. Really dumb. You know that. I fell in love but didn’t think there was even a possibility that it could be reciprocated, so I didn’t see what were probably really obvious signs that Prompto was starting to feel the same. I kissed him, then I let him go, and said I loved him after he’d left the room. I don’t know how to do this. It was up to me to break the spell, and I failed you all because of how dumb I am.”

Luna was silent for a while before she suddenly burst into laughter.

Noctis looked up at her in shock. “H-hey, what’s so funny?” He whined indignantly. “I just opened up to you about how dumb and sorry I am and you just laugh at me?”

“I’m sorry.” She giggled. “But hearing you come to the realisation of how blind you’ve been this whole time is very funny.”

Noct pouted childishly at his friend. “And here I thought you were the nice one.”

“I’m nicer than Ravus.”

“Everyone’s nicer than Ravus.”

“Only because you’re mean to him.”

“He’s mean to me!”

Luna laughed. “I don’t doubt that. At least you’re defending your honour instead of lamenting your lack of awareness now.”

Noctis pouted again. Of course that was her ploy the whole time. “That was a mean trick.”

“But it worked.” She pointed out. Noctis couldn’t argue with that.

“This might sound really weird,” He said after a few more moments. “But do you mind if I stay in here tonight?”

Luna hummed knowingly. “Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Noctis took off his jacket and waistcoat, then shuffled further back on the bed and lay down, pulling the blankets around himself slowly. They smelt like Prompto, and maybe Noct might’ve thought it was a bit weird that he was taking so much comfort from the now-familiar scent if he was in his right mind, but he was still upset, so he simply closed his eyes and pretended that Prompto was laying there beside him.

In his dreams, he saw terrible things happening to Prompto, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Chapter Text

Prompto was almost certain that he’d never made Summer run faster than right now. He’d been checking the mirror every once in a while to make sure that Cor was still where he’d been before, and he was, more or less, but there seemed to be someone else there that Prompto couldn’t see.

He could almost guarantee he knew who it was.

The thought only made him more desperate to get back to Galahd. 

By the time he reached the house, it was well past midnight, but the lamps were all still lit inside, and figures seemed to be moving around by the windows.

And Loqi was loitering by the door.

“Well, look who decided to come back.” The other young man drawled, watching as Prompto hopped off Summer’s back and slowly started walking towards the door. “It’s been a while, Prompto.”

“Not long enough.” He replied, trying to ignore the rapid anxious thumping of his heart and keep up a strong front. “What have you done to Cor?”

“I haven’t done anything. Our dear friend Mister Izunia, however…”

Prompto immediately moved to open the door, but Loqi quickly stepped in front of him, blocking the way.

“Move. I’m helping my father.” Prompto tried to get past, but the other man was determined not to let him.

“I’m trying to help you.” Loqi hissed. “It’s a trap, Ardyn just wants to get you by using Cor as bait.”

“Why try and help me now? After all you let him do to me…” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts of those things away. He wasn’t going to let that get to him, not here, not now.

“You think I had a choice? He threatened to kill me if I didn’t go along with it!”

“Funny, he said the same thing to me, and threatened Cor as well. Let me get past.” 

As Prompto went to grab for the door handle again, the door was opened from the other side, and then Ardyn was standing in front of him.

“Prompto! My dear boy, how good of you to join us!” The taller man exclaimed, opening the door a little wider and gesturing for him to come in.

“What did you do to him?” Prompto demanded, rushing past Ardyn to get to Cor. He was leaning heavily against the kitchen table, blood dripping steadily from his nose and a cut on his lip, and a bruise already starting to form around his eye. “Cor!”

“Prompto?” Cor looked at him almost a little confusedly before his leg gave out under him. Prompto was quick to dash in and get his arm around his adoptive father to help him continue standing. “What are you doing here?”

Prompto pulled the mirror out of his pocket. “Noct showed me this. I saw what had happened to you, and Noct let me leave for your sake.”

Cor smiled slightly, just the slightest upward tilt of his lips. “I knew that kid had a good heart. Not pure, but good, considering his ancestors.” 

Ardyn started to laugh. “What an interesting turn of events. I suppose Prompto will be confessing his love for the king next, will he?” He smirked, sending unpleasant shivers down Prompto’s spine.

“No!” Prompto shot back quickly. He didn’t love Noct, did he? He liked him a lot, but love? He wasn’t sure, if he was honest.

“Pity.” Ardyn drawled, wandering over to inspect one of the paintings on the wall. “I doubt he’ll be around for much longer for you to change your mind and save him and his little friends.”

It wasn’t until then that it clicked in Prompto’s mind, and his chest suddenly felt tight. “How do you know about that? About Noct, about the curse?”

The older man laughed again. “Let’s just say I have…rather reliable sources.”

Prompto felt sick. “What makes you think I can save him and all the others?”

Ardyn looked at Cor, that awful smirk still on his face. “Oh, did you never tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Prompto glanced at Cor.

“Oh dear.” He chuckled. “You see, dear Prompto, you have a pure heart. That is why you were able to survive for so long after the testing in Niflheim, why the magic has settled so strongly inside you, and in part why you were able to preserve a sylleblossom for twenty years without realising it. Now, do you know how the curse on the Lucis Caelums is broken?”  Prompto shook his head, not trusting himself not to vomit if he opened his mouth after hearing all of this. “Ah, you really were kept in the dark about it all, weren’t you? Poor boy. And poor Noctis, I suppose, seeing as you don’t love him. A pity really, that a pure-hearted being—such a rare thing, in this day and age—had to fall in love with him in order to set he and his court free from that wretched curse. He really had no chance at all, did he?”

Prompto stared at the floor dumbly, trying to process all of that. He didn’t notice Loqi coming inside the house, Ardyn murmuring something into his ear, and the younger man moving towards Cor. Prompto realised when Loqi tried to pull Cor away, and then he kicked into overdrive. “Don’t touch him!” He cried, trying to bat Loqi away. “Leave us alone!”

“I’m going to send him to Noctis, you idiot.” Loqi hissed, quiet enough that Ardyn wouldn’t hear. “I can’t stop Ardyn, but I can get Cor out of Galahd to get help.”

“Prompto, let him do it.” Cor muttered. “He’ll be sorry if he goes back on his word.”

Reluctantly, after a moment, Prompto nodded and let go of Cor, and then Loqi was pulling him outside, the door shutting behind them.

“Now, as for you, my boy—“ Ardyn moved a couple of steps closer towards him, wicked smirk still in place. Prompto was mentally preparing himself to try and fight back, if he had to, consequences to himself be damned. He’d had enough of Ardyn and what he’d done to him. “—I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

“About what?” Prompto bit out.

“Why, only my name. Izunia was the name of some unfortunate chap I knew a long, long time ago. You see, using my own name would have caused quite the uproar back then, though it did have quite a nice ring to it. Seems such a shame, really, to give up a name like Lucis Caelum because of a silly little thing like a spell that left people thinking you were dead, don’t you think?”

Lucis Caelum. He repeated it over and over in his head until it sank in. “Y-you’re…”

“The First King, yes.” Ardyn grinned wolfishly. “And a very distant relative of your dear Noctis.”

Prompto took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, not much. I only wish to observe—to see how much it takes to crush a pure spirit, and I must say, you’ve been holding out incredibly well thus far, but I’m afraid that won’t last much longer. Now, we must travel a little to continue this research.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” 

Ardyn laughed, and suddenly he was behind Prompto, one arm held tightly across his chest and the other around his waist, holding him flush against him. “My dear boy, that’s where you are wrong.”

Something lurched in Prompto’s stomach, and suddenly they were tumbling through some void, just like when he’d gone through the book with Noctis. He shut his eyes tight, and when he opened them again, they were in a dark, empty room. It was freezing cold, and Ardyn still hadn’t let go of him.

“Now, onto that research I was talking about…”

Prompto had never been so terrified in his entire life.

“Cor?”

Prompto was sat beside him on the couch, reading over his shoulder. It wasn’t very interesting, whatever he was reading, but Prompto was determined to keep going, if only so he could keep this rare moment of time spent with Cor for a while longer.

“Hm?”

“What would you do if something happened to me?” It was a deep question, for a ten-year-old, but Prompto had always been curious about those sorts of things from an even younger age.

“Depends what you mean by ‘something’.” Cor replied, dog-earing the page he was on and shutting the book.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. If I got kidnapped or something.”

Cor laughed. “You wouldn’t get kidnapped, I’d beat up whoever was trying to kidnap you before they could get you.” He threw a couple of light punches at Prompto to emphasise his point, causing the child to giggle and swat at his hands.

“Nooo, I’m serious! What if you didn’t beat them up before they got me?” He flopped across Cor’s lap as he asked.

“Then I’d go to the ends of Eos to find you and raise hell along the way.” Cor ran his fingers through Prompto’s hair, a small, affectionate gesture he didn’t often do. Prompto loved it.

“Even if they took me back to Niflheim?”

“Especially if they took you back to Niflheim.”

Prompto hummed happily, satisfied with that answer. He’d already decided that he never wanted to go back where he came from, and he was glad that Cor was going to do everything he could to make sure it didn’t happen, too. He was convinced that he’d be able to fight back if someone ever did try to kidnap him, but at least he had Cor to back him up, just in case.

Prompto grasped onto that memory desperately as he curled up in the corner of his cell. He was in Niflheim, in the very same facility he’d started life in, the one place he had never wanted to see again for as long as he lived. 

His whole body ached, and his throat was raw after how much he had screamed and cried in protest. The beautiful clothes Luna had given him to wear back at the castle were gone now, ripped apart within minutes of arriving here, and now all he had was his shirt and underwear, both of which had been tossed at him a few minutes ago, after he too had been unceremoniously thrown across the floor after hours and hours of unrelenting torture and abuse.

Ardyn was trying to break him, to crush his pure spirit, he knew that much. He was stubbornly refusing to let it work, despite the pain and helplessness he felt. If Loqi had been telling the truth, Cor would likely be at the castle by now, telling Noctis what had happened. And hopefully they’d be able to do something about it.

Prompto felt the tears spilling from his eyes. What if Noctis didn’t really care? What if he never came for him and left him here to be shattered? What if he did come, but it was too late by the time he arrived? What if Prompto had snapped by then? What if he had been broken by the time he arrived? What if something happened before he got here? What if Noct was killed on his way? 

The questions whirled through his head like a violent tornado, and mixed in with the thoughts of everything that had happened in the past few hours, it wasn’t long before Prompto was a sobbing, heaving mess on the floor. He begged each and every one of the gods for mercy, for help, for anything, only growing more upset when there was no reply.

At least Cor was out there somewhere, raising hell to find and rescue him. He hoped.

His chest grew tighter at the thought, and as he let out another shuddering sob, he felt the air around him suddenly go even colder. The floor was freezing, and so were the walls, even more so than they had been before. Wiping the tears from his eyes as he sat up slowly, he noticed vaguely how cold his hands felt. He blinked several times and looked blearily at the area around him.

It was covered with a thin sheet of ice.

Chapter Text

Noctis awoke to a commotion going on outside the room, and all of a sudden the door was being thrown open. He sat up abruptly, wondering if maybe—just maybe—Prompto had come back after all. But he hadn’t.

Cor was standing in the doorway, Umbra and Pryna barking and running around his feet. Noctis felt his heart sink even before the man opened his mouth to say the words “Prompto’s in danger.”

He was already scrambling out of bed, grabbing his jacket as he rushed towards the door. They needed Gentiana. “What happened?” He heard himself ask.

“Your ancestor happened.” Cor replied.

Noct stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Ardyn Lucis Caelum. The First King. It should have clicked sooner, but he’s been hiding out in Galahd under the surname Izunia for at least ten or fifteen years, constantly trying to get to Prompto. He hadn’t succeeded, until now.”

“Yes he has.” Noctis murmured, starting his hurried walk again. He vaguely registered Ignis and Gladio rushing behind him with Cor.

“What?” Cor furrowed his brows confusedly.

“When he was here, he panicked twice because of me accidentally getting him against a wall or underneath me.” He explained. “He didn’t tell me exactly what happened, but he said that someone  did something to him back in Galahd. If Ardyn’s been trying to get him for that long, I can almost guarantee that he’s done it at least once, if not more.”

“Why wouldn’t Prompto tell me?”

Noctis shook his head. “I don’t know. He said he couldn’t talk about it, maybe he was too scared to?”

Cor sighed. “Ardyn probably threatened him to keep him quiet. Prompto’s not scared of much, but he’s always been terrified of Ardyn. The smallest threat from him could probably keep him from speaking a word against him, no matter how terrible a thing it was that he did.”

“It sounds like Ardyn had total power over Prompto.” Ignis put in from behind them. “It would be unsurprising if he had taken advantage of him at some point and threatened his life, or even yours, if he told anyone.”

“I just can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner.” Cor frowned. “All I wanted was for him to be safe, and look where that’s gotten him.”

“We shouldn’t have to worry about that for too much longer, should we, Noct?” Ignis asked.

Noctis shook his head and opened the door to Gentiana’s tower. The spirit was already waiting by the sylleblossom, the last petal looking more shrivelled up than Noct had ever seen it. That couldn’t be good.

“Is Prompto alive?” Noctis demanded, his magic flaring up inside him in preparation to get the other man back.

“Yes.” Gentiana turned towards the balcony. “Something sinister is coming to Insomnia. You must retrieve Prompto and return ready to defend the Citadel.”

“Where is he?”

“He has been taken back to where he began.”

“The facility in Niflheim. Zegnautus, in Gralea.” Cor said immediately. “But that’s so far away…”

“The book, Noctis.” Gentiana looked back at Noct. “You must hurry. Go to Zegnautus and rescue him as quickly as you can.”

Noctis nodded, turning to face Cor, Ignis, and Gladio. “You stay here and prepare defences. I’ll get Prompto and be back as soon as I can.”

“You can count on us.” Gladio said with a nod. Noctis was quietly relieved that the candelabra seemed not to be mad at him anymore.

“And you can count on me to bring Prompto back.” Noct addressed Cor more than either of the others, and the older man nodded his response.

With that, Noctis rushed down the the library, stopping only briefly to explain the situation to Aranea, Ravus, and Iris. The book was still as it had been left the day they went to Altissia, opened to the page of that beautiful moving map. He didn’t have any time to admire it as he searched frantically for Gralea, placing his hand over it once he found it. Properly travelling to a place took much more magic than simply thinking of a place and going to the thought or memory of it, as he and Prompto had done when they went to Altissia, but Noctis was willing to use all of his magic if it meant getting Prompto back safely. Purplish-blue magic swirled down his arm and through his fingers, travelling into the book and causing the map to glow.

“Zegnautus.” He whispered. “Zegnautus.”

He repeated it over and over, focusing his magic and blanking his mind of anything else. There was that familiar tugging feeling in the very centre of his chest, and then an awful lurch of his stomach as the magic pulled him in and then spat him out on the other side. He felt drained, but he knew he still had to find Prompto and bring him back to Insomnia, so he pulled himself up from where he had fallen on the floor upon arriving and looked at his surroundings.

It was dark, but for once he was thankful for the cat’s eyes he’d been given with the curse, because he could still see fairly well despite the lack of light. He seemed to be in some sort of hallway with no doors in sight, so he started walking, talons clicking softly on the floor. He hoped no one was around to hear, otherwise he’d be discovered very quickly.

Oddly, there seemed to be no one around at all. The lack of guards around was concerning, to say the least. Surely there should be guards everywhere in a place like this. Instead, it was eerily quiet, and freezing cold. Noct supposed the cold was likely just the normal Niflheim weather, due to it being such a mountainous region, but it was still unsettling.

Eventually, he reached the end of the hallway and emerged into a large circular area that he guessed was the central point of this part of Zegnautus. There were various signs pointing to the different hallways that branched off from it, and it was at that point that Noctis really wished he’d bothered to learn more than just the very basics of the Niflheim language. He couldn’t read a single sign, and there were at least six different ways he could go.

He was just going to have to try each of the hallways and hope he wasn’t too late by the time he found the right one. There were faint lights shining in a few of them, so he decided to start with those.

There were doors dotted along the walls of the first hall he went down, but they were all open, leading into empty cells or storage rooms. The second hallway was much the same. The third, most of the doors were locked, so Noctis took the time to break all of them down, just in case Prompto was in one of the rooms. He wasn’t, but there were all sorts of medical tables and chairs and terrible-looking machines and torture devices in each room. Noct shuddered to think what people had been subjected to here, what Prompto had been subjected to.

Noctis headed back out into that circular room again. He’d been down all of the halls that had lamps and not found a trace of Prompto, so that could only lead him to assume he was being held in one of the dark hallways.

Either that or he was in the wrong place.

Noct shook his head and looked around again. He could feel familiar magic in the air.

Prompto.

He couldn’t work out where it was coming from. He let out a long breath, and by instinct decided to go down a corridor to his right. It was even colder down here. Noctis wondered if one of the doors led directly to the outside, but most of them were open already—more empty cells and experimentation rooms—except for one, right at the end of the hall.

There was frost creeping out from under the door, and Noct could feel that magic even more strongly than before. Stronger even than when he and Prompto had kissed back at the Citadel. Hell, he felt it almost as strongly as he felt his own magic within him.

Something was very different.

He quickly set to work kicking at the door, trying to break it down, but had to resort to blasting it with magic when it refused to budge. Probably not the best idea, considering he needed as much as possible to get them back to the Citadel, but he found he really didn’t care in that moment.

Prompto was barely wearing anything, slumped in the far corner of the cell, curled in on himself and surrounded by more of that frost.

“Prompto!” Noctis immediately rushed over to him, throwing his jacket around the blonde man as he crouched beside him. The magic around him was almost overwhelming now.

“Noct?” Prompto stared at him disbelievingly, as if he was trying to convince himself that this was real.

“It’s alright, I’m going to get you back to Cor.” He sat down properly, Prompto immediately leaning against him. Noct cautiously curled an arm around the slightly smaller man’s shoulders, holding him close.

“Cor’s alright?” Prompto asked hoarsely.

Noctis furrowed his brows slightly at how wrecked Prompto’s voice sounded, but decided to simply answer the question instead of press him about things he probably wouldn’t talk about. “He’s fine. He’s waiting back at the Citadel with everyone else.”

Prompto let out a relieved sigh. “Good.”

“We need to go back, Prom.” Noct whispered after a moment. “Gentiana said that something bad is coming to Insomnia and we had to be back as quickly as we could to defend it.”

Prompto sat up abruptly. “It’s Ardyn. He said enough of the test subjects were strong enough to fight, that’s why there’s no one here!” He scrambled to his feet, Noctis not far behind. “Shit, it didn’t even click until now. He’s gotten power from Ifrit himself through some covenant or pact or something; Noct, he wants to destroy Gentiana and the sylleblossom, and if Gentiana dies, then the sylleblossom dies, and if the sylleblossom dies—“

“Then I and all the others die. Yeah.” Noct’s chest felt uncomfortably tight. Gentiana had said, back when Prompto had first arrived at the Citadel, that time was running out. Could this be it? If Prompto didn’t love him now and his already-powerful ancestor had the power of Ifrit on his side…

“We have to go now!” Prompto grabbed hold of Noct’s hand. “You’re not dying today.”

Noctis offered a weak smile in response and gently pulled the other man closer as he readied his magic. “Citadel.” He murmured, and there was that tug and lurch, and then they were back in the room Prompto had been staying in.

“Prompto! Noctis!” Luna exclaimed, throwing some trousers and shoes out of her drawer to Prompto when she noticed his lack of clothing. “I am so glad you’re alright. You came back just in time—Cindy just came up and told me that at least fifty people are marching on the Citadel, and Cor and everyone else have started trying to fight them off, but now the daemons are getting involved, too. I was about to figure out a way to get myself down there to help.”

Noctis swore under his breath as Prompto took off his jacket and pulled on the clothing Luna had given him. “We have to get to Gentiana. We’ll get you out of this room, can you go the rest of the way on your own?”

“I should be able to.” She nodded. “I just need the doors of this room opened and I’ll be alright from there.”

Noctis nodded in return and went to open one door, while Prompto held the other one as he finished pulling on his shoe. Luna, with no small amount of effort, slowly made her way towards them and out the door. “I apologise for my slowness, it has been far too long since I last walked.” She said sheepishly.

“How long is ‘far too long’?” Prompto asked.

“Since the spell took affect on us, I suppose. About four years.”

“You haven’t moved at all since then?” Noctis raised an eyebrow.

“Where would I move to? This was one of the least-lonely rooms in the Citadel, anywhere else was even further from anyone.”

“Fair point.” He sighed, shutting the door once Luna was out. “You’ll be alright now?”

“Yes, you two go on.” Luna ushered them off.

Noct nodded and started heading over to the other part of the Citadel, Prompto following close behind. As they walked across the main foyer, Noctis took the chance to peek out the window and check what was happening outside. It was utterly chaotic, with daemons and flashes of magic and weapons everywhere. He could only hope that everyone was still alright.

He felt Prompto take hold of his hand and gently pull him away from the window, towards where they were supposed to be going. “We can come back and help them soon.” He said.

Noctis nodded, not letting go of Prompto’s hand as they hurried up towards Gentiana’s tower. Just as they reached the door, something from outside erupted and shook the entire Citadel, sending the two of them crashing through the door to land heavily on the floor. Gentiana was standing by the archway leading to the balcony, watching everything unfold in the courtyard below.

“The soldiers brought from Niflheim are dead, as is the man who betrayed Ardyn.” She said.

“Loqi?” Prompto sat up with a small groan.

Gentiana nodded, slowly turning to face them as Noctis stood up, helping Prompto in the process. “You must fight Ardyn, both of you.”

“No.” Noctis responded immediately. “Not Prompto. Don’t make him do this after everything he’s already dealt with tonight.”

“I haven’t been incapacitated.” Prompto protested. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t want you getting—“

“Look out!”

Noctis suddenly found himself getting pushed to the floor as a blast rattled the room around them, his ears ringing as he slowly looked up and saw Prompto crouched over him, arms outstretched if to shield him from whatever had just happened. Perhaps that’s exactly what he was doing. One of the walls of the room had been blown apart, but just in front of Noctis—where the thing had been aimed, apparently—now stood a large, jagged wall of glowing ice.

Gentiana smiled, despite it all. “He is more than capable of assisting.”

Chapter Text

Prompto wasn’t completely sure how it had happened. One minute, he’d been trying to plead his case about fighting to Noctis, the next, he was pushing the king down to the floor to try and get him out of the way of something Ardyn had sent towards them from outside.

And then something had shot out of him and deflected the other magic. And now there was a spiky ice structure that glowed standing just in front of he and Noct.

“He is more than capable of assisting.” He heard Gentiana say.

Prompto straightened up and ran his hand over one of the ice spikes. “I don’t know how to control it.”

“Yes you do.” Gentiana assured. She stepped over towards him and placed her hand over his heart. Prompto hadn’t really thought much about whether or not she was able to touch things, being a spirit and all, but her hand was a freezing weight against his chest, stirring that cold magic inside him again, bringing it up to the surface as tangible power that he somehow knew instinctively how to use. She was smiling when he looked at her, and she sent him a conspiratory wink that only confused him more before ushering him back over to Noctis. “Go. You must hurry before Ardyn strikes again.”

Noctis stood waiting for Prompto on the balcony, wings stretched out wide and ready to take to the sky. “I can take you to a better vantage point.” He offered. “You can’t access any other balconies or pathways from this one, and you might want to be able to do that if you’re going to help.”

Prompto nodded and moved closer to Noct, wrapping his arms tightly around the king’s waist when he gestured for him to do so. “Don’t drop me.”

“Have a bit faith in me, Prom.” Noctis teased with a small smile.

Prompto found himself laughing, despite everything, and pressed a kiss to the king’s cheek. “I’ll have faith in you when you put me down without dropping me.”

Noctis smiled a little wider and took off before either of them said anything else, holding Prompto tightly as he flew swiftly to another section of the Citadel. Prompto was too scared to look down or around at anything, so he simply focused on Noct’s face, on the small mole that was visible between some of the smattering of scales on his jaw, on the bright fire of his magenta cat eyes, on the soft, plump lips that Prompto found he so desperately wanted to kiss again…

It was a sudden jolt when they landed, and Prompto clung a little harder to Noctis in response. The king gently prised his arms off him after a few moments, tentatively lifting his hands to his mouth and pressing kisses to his fingers like some sort of strange reassurance. Prompto loved it. “You’ll be alright?” Noct murmured.

Prompto nodded. “I’m more worried about you.” He whispered, as though neither of them were allowed to speak any louder in that moment.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’d better be.”

Noctis pulled Prompto close to him once more, and for a moment their lips were just barely brushing together, their eyes half-lidded and gazing at each other with a tinge of fear and sadness,  a multitude of unspoken words that perhaps needed to be said swirling around in Prompto’s mind…but the moment was shattered as a blast of fire crashed into the tower, just to the right of them. They both turned to the source, seeing Ardyn flying above them with a terrifying grin on his face. He had morphed into something truly terrible since leaving Prompto in Zegnautus; that same black goo from the daemons that had burned Prompto all that time ago was dripping down his face, his eyes were alight with yellow flame, and great, ugly wings had sprouted from his back and beat through the air around him. The wings were dark like Noctis’, but they seemed to be made of thick, jagged membrane, while Noct’s were soft and feathery, and far smaller (and Prompto had thought they were huge when he’d first seen them). Hopefully they were no less powerful.

“Cover me from down here.” Noctis instructed. “Move around to other balconies if you need to, and if you get hurt, get inside.”

“You’d better do the same.” Prompto replied as the king got ready to take flight again. “I’m not having you dying on me here.”

Noct nodded in response, not saying another word before he took to the sky with that familiar blue-purple magic weaving itself around him before shooting towards the First King. Noctis himself wasn’t too far behind, talons outstretched and ready to attack as he let out an almighty roar.

Prompto ran up the stairs to his right to get to a higher spot, a bright burst of ice spurting from his hands and careening up towards Ardyn when he saw him take a swipe Noctis with a flaming sword.

Ardyn looked almost surprised for a split second when the ice knocked him back, but he quickly straightened up and looked directly at Prompto with a grin, tipping his hat mockingly before sweeping his arm out and sending six more of those flaming swords towards him…or not quite towards him. Prompto heard Noctis’ yells right as a shield of pure light burst out and surrounded him for protection—protection that wasn’t exactly needed, as it turns out.

The swords joined up into one large mass and slammed into wall of the tower he was standing on the edge of. There was a sickeningly loud crack, and Prompto had no time to properly register what was happening until the wall gave out and he started falling.

Noctis was shrieking, but it didn’t sound like he was coming any closer. As Prompto scrabbled for purchase on something, he spared a quick glance up, seeing that Ardyn had trapped Noctis in his grip and surrounded the both of them with fire. Noct was struggling hard, but Prompto knew that the king wasn’t likely to be able to get out unless Ardyn let him, so he was on his own with trying to stop himself from hitting the ground far, far below. Thankfully, what he hadn’t noticed was that there was another large balcony a little further down on the tower. The falling rubble had knocked some of it away, but it was mostly still intact, and Prompto managed to land on it, for the most part, with a painful thud.

His legs dangled off the edge, and he knew the rest of him would steadily slip off if he didn’t pull himself up quickly. His torso burned with fresh injuries on top of the ones he’d received in the past few hours back in Niflheim, but he managed to wiggle and pull himself further up so he was laying fully on the half-wrecked balcony, panting heavily and blinking back tears that were coming of their own accord due to the incredible amount of pain he was in.

There was a big explosion above him, and he looked up to see Noctis and Ardyn being flung apart by a burst of Noct’s magic, the fire disappearing as it was engulfed by it. Prompto pulled himself to his feet slowly, using the wall as an aid. He knew he’d told Noct he’d get to safety if he was hurt, but he wasn’t about to leave the king out there fighting on his own. The balcony had a set of stairs leading up to bridge to get across to another tower, so he limped over and made his way up, clutching at his aching ribs with one hand while the other kept him braced against the wall. He was going to need some serious recovery time if he got out of this alive, he thought.

Noctis was slashing at Ardyn with his claws again, fighting as viciously as he had the night he had saved Prompto from the daemons. It was mesmerising—if not a little terrifying—to watch.

On the other hand, Prompto could see that Noct was tiring quickly. His movements were becoming more and more sluggish, and Ardyn had managed to kick him or hit him with magic more than once  in the past twenty seconds.

Prompto hurriedly managed to pull up another one of those light shields, though this time he set it up around Noct, right as Ardyn was about to get him in the chest with his sword. Noctis looked startled for a moment at the sudden protection, but seemed to take the moment to regain his focus and build up the strength to get back into it. He swooped downwards as Ardyn took another swing at him, and Prompto tried to make sure the shield followed him as he moved.

Ardyn apparently realised what Prompto was doing, because suddenly there was a huge fireball coming at him. He managed to dodge it—it had gone a little too far left anyway—and it smashed into the wall behind him. What he didn’t realise was that dodging the attack had made him lose his focus on the shield for Noct.

It was as if time had slowed down when he looked up and saw another huge explosion light up the sky. Heard Noctis’ roar of pain. Saw him fall from the sky and land on the balcony of Gentiana’s tower. Vaguely heard himself screaming the king’s name.

Prompto couldn’t get to him directly from where he was. He was scrambling inside, running as fast as he could up to the wrecked door and bursting through, paying no mind to the fact that the room was almost completely destroyed at this point. Gentiana was nowhere to be seen, and the glass dome that covered the sylleblossom had a large crack in the top of it. He tried not to think too much about how shrivelled the last petal was. Noct was not going to die.

The king in question was currently struggling to pull himself to his feet, using what was left of the rail around the balcony to try and help himself up.

“Noct!” Prompto was by his side almost immediately, looping an arm around him to try and help him up. “Come on, you need to get inside.”

“N-no, I have to keep fighting.” Noct protested weakly, though he was gripping onto Prompto and letting him lead him inside anyway.

“Being stubborn’s not going to get you anywhere.” Prompto replied. He was trying to think of somewhere safe he could take Noctis, because he knew that staying here wasn’t an option, but was anywhere else going to much safer for long? Maybe the art room was the best choice for now.

“Being stubborn might keep me alive.” The king mumbled, wincing heavily as he brushed his hand over a gash on his side. “My magic’s almost completely drained, I—“

His sentence was cut short as an enormous blast shook the room, sending he and Prompto careening across the floor as more rubble fell from the roof and walls, filling the room with dust.

Prompto was coughing hard, and his whole body felt as though it was on fire with how hard he’d been flung against the wall. Everything hurt so badly.

His eyes were watering as he looked up, searching for Noctis amidst the dust and debris. He saw him crumpled up on the other side of the room, by the remains of the one of the walls, and Prompto was quick to start crawling over to him. He noticed Ardyn standing at the edge of the balcony, but he didn’t seem to be making any moves to do anything else at the moment, he just stood there grinning, so Prompto decided that he would focus on Noctis for now and fight Ardyn if he tried to do anything.

“Noct…” He mumbled, finally by the king’s side. He carefully turned him over onto his back, cautious of his wings and not wanting to hurt him further. Noctis didn’t move or make a sound. The skin not obscured by scales on his face was white as snow, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. “Noct?” Prompto’s heart was pounding with worry, and he felt sick to the stomach. His hand shook as he felt around for a pulse. Nothing. His skin was cool to the touch. “No…no…” Tears spilled from his eyes before he could even think to stop them.

Noctis was dead.

Chapter Text

Prompto had vaguely registered that Ardyn was laughing when he’d crawled over to Noctis, but now it was ringing loudly in his ears. Noct was dead. He was dead. And all Prompto could hear was Ardyn’s mocking laughter.

The tears kept falling in an endless stream, splattering all over Noctis’ lifeless face. His chest felt tight, as though he was coming closer to caving in on himself with each time he mumbled “No, please, no.”

“What a pity.” Ardyn mocked. He had turned back to look down into the courtyard from the balcony. “It appears that his friends are starting to follow in his footsteps. Why, there go a couple now. What were their names? The Amicitia girl, her little friend?”

Prompto grit his teeth, his whole body shaking.

“Oh dear, looks like the other Amicitia’s gone too. And that silly Niflheim woman.”

He bit his lip, tasting blood as that constricting feeling in his chest grew ever tighter.

“Even the dogs! Goodness, they’re all going rather quickly now. What pretty daemons they’ll make.” Ardyn was still laughing. “Oh, oh! The Nox Fleuret siblings! Such a shame for a gifted line like theirs to die out. Off goes the boy! Ravus, wasn’t it? And his sister…”

Something was bubbling to the surface in him, he could feel it. Every word Ardyn spoke brought it up and up and up…

“Lunafreya! And she—“

The moment Ardyn said Luna’s name, Prompto erupted. He screamed, and suddenly everything that had been bubbling up under his skin came out in a dazzling burst of light, one that decimated what was left of the walls and roof of the room, and slammed hard into Ardyn.

The dome covering the now-bare sylleblossom toppled off the pedestal and shattered all across the floor, leaving…frost in its wake?

Prompto didn’t think too much into it when he noticed it, too concerned with the fact that Ardyn was staggering backwards, a veritable river of that black goo pouring from his mouth and eyes now as he started to disintegrate. And he laughed again.

“Pure-heartedness.” He garbled through the goo spilling from his mouth. Prompto fought back the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust.

A chill swept through the room—not one from the open air or from himself, Prompto realised, but from the figure that had just appeared near Ardyn. She wasn’t wearing very much, her skin was ice-blue, and there was a sound like the soft tinkling of icicles when she tipped her head at Ardyn.

“Begone from him, Ifrit, and sleep peacefully forevermore, First King.” She said, placing her hand on his chest. Ice spread from her fingertips up to Ardyn’s neck before he finally fell backwards and shattered into millions of tiny pieces. The only part of him that remained was a tiny flame that winked out in the icy breeze after mere moments.

Prompto was frozen in shock for several moments before he snapped back into reality and turned back to check Noctis again. Now that Ardyn was gone, the curse was technically broken, wasn’t it? Noct should be waking up again.

But he wasn’t.

“Why won’t he wake up?” Prompto whimpered, gently pulling up Noctis’ limp body and cradling him against his chest, desperately trying to transfer some of his warmth to him. It was then that he realised the king was beginning to dissolve as Ardyn had. No, no, no!

“The First King may be no more, but the curse is not broken.” That voice…it was so familiar, yet so foreign, coming from that other woman.

Prompto spared a glance up. “Gentiana?”

She smiled softly. “Shiva, actually.”
“You were the one that cursed Ardyn? I thought it was an enchantress…”

“Sometimes stories are not always told correctly.” Shiva walked over to the remains of the sylleblossom. “The spell may still be broken, Prompto. You can still save him. Speak true of your heart.”

Prompto went quiet. Of course, all this time he’d been convincing himself he wasn’t falling for Noct, he’d only been going in deeper and deeper. He might have known since the dance, when they had kissed and that magic had sparked to life. He’d pushed it away and pretended he hadn’t heard Noct’s confession as he left, had ignored how pathetically happy he’d been when the king had come to rescue him, had disregarded how he hadn’t wanted to let go of him after their short flight…He loved him fiercely and wholeheartedly, with every single fibre of his being, and it was only just clicking now. “I…” He clutched Noctis a little tighter. “Noctis…Noct, I love you. Please come back.” The words were barely more than a whisper, and he wondered vaguely if it was enough to speak so quietly.

Through his tears, he noticed a glowing light that steadily grew brighter and brighter. Prompto blinked rapidly and realised that it was his own hands that were the source of the light, and it was steadily seeping into Noctis as well, winding its way down his wings and throughout the rest of his body. The king’s wings and horns continued to dissolve, and when Prompto dared to glance down at Noct’s face, he saw that the scales were fading, too, but the rest of his body was staying in one piece, thankfully.

The light grew and grew until it filled the whole room, and Shiva began to speak. “The love of a pure heart can heal when nothing else can. I declare the spell lifted.” She said. “The Final King and his court shall live peacefully for the rest of their days, once again as they should be.” Her hand fell upon Prompto’s shoulder. “The magic forced upon you in your homeland was stolen from my creatures. I cannot take it back now, but know that you carry the power of Shiva wherever you may go. Use it well, Prompto, there may yet be others with the same power that will need your guidance.”

Prompto nodded a little distractedly, wondering somewhere in the back of his mind if that meant that there were some experiments or ex-experiments that had escaped as he had, and had avoided being wiped out by Ardyn before. He didn't think too much into it in that moment—he could worry about it later.

Because in that moment, an arm was curling around his back, a hand gripping at the fabric of his shirt. Prompto gasped softly and looked down again. He was met with a pair of stunning deep blue eyes and a warm, if not a little weak, smile. The scales were all gone from his face, his horns no longer twisting out of the top of his head, but his face was still familiar.

"Noct..." Prompto breathed.

"Hey." Noct mumbled, tipping his head a little to rest more comfortably against Prompto's chest.

Prompto made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "You were dead, and the first thing you say when you come back is "hey"?"

Noctis' face fell. "I was...dead?"

He nodded, holding the king a little tighter and burying his face in his dark hair. "I was so scared."

Noctis was quiet for several moments. "Prom...if I'm back now, does that mean...?" Prompto could feel the king’s breath on his neck.

"I love you, Noct." He murmured. "The curse is broken."

Prompto felt Noctis move slightly, and then suddenly he was being kissed like he'd never been kissed before. It felt different to the first time they had kissed—less tentative and soft, more certain and passionate. Light was streaming into the room from outside, and for once it felt like it was warm out there.

"The light's back." Noctis mumbled, parting briefly from the kiss. "You brought it back. It's not cold anymore."

"Kind of ironic for a guy with ice magic, huh?" Prompto laughed.

"A little." The king smiled. "Do you think we should head down and check on everyone else? It'll be fun to see you meeting them as humans."

"Sounds like a plan."

It was a bit of a mess outside, but the Citadel and surrounding city of Insomnia seemed to have been restored with the removal of the curse, and it all stood proudly in the light of the new day. People with familiar voices—but not so familiar appearances—were milling around the courtyard, clearly having emotional reunions with each other as humans.

A huge, muscular man was spinning a younger girl around in the air happily, while a blonde woman and white-haired man were embracing wordlessly, two dogs sitting at their feet. Prompto wondered if the latter were Luna and Ravus, but he didn’t have much time to think about it before a child was running towards he and Noct. “King Noctis! Prompto!”

“Talcott! Look at you!” Noctis grinned as Talcott flung his arms around him.

“We’re all people again! Does this mean you broke the spell?”

“Well…Prompto did, technically.” Noct sent him a fond smile.

Prompto was about to respond when he was suddenly clapped on the back by someone, causing him to jump and let out a very undignified sound. The responding laughter was immediately familiar.

“Glad you finally came to your senses, kid.” Aranea grinned, tucking a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear.

“Aranea!” Prompto was almost certain that Aranea was not the hugging type in the slightest, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to give her an awkward kind of side-hug, which only resulted in him getting shoved back towards Noctis with a laugh.

“Save it for him.” Aranea snorted.

“I’ve got plenty of hugs to go around.” Prompto laughed. “I can spare one for my favourite sword who’s not a sword anymore, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried that you’re going to try and give me another one.”

“I’ll take it for you, then.” All of a sudden, Prompto was getting pulled in for a hug by the blonde woman he’d seen before, the two dogs running around their feet and barking happily. Luna pulled back after a moment to give him a big grin. “Thank you, Prompto. You saved us. Noctis most of all.”

“I mean, it was also kind of Shiva…Gentiana…whoever, lifting the curse that really cemented it.” Prompto chuckled sheepishly, running a hand through his already-dishevelled hair.

Umbra and Pryna continued to bark excitedly as they jumped up at him, so of course, Prompto was immediately on his knees to cuddle the dogs and give them all the pets and scratches that they deserved, even though his injuries flared up terribly with the movement. Prompto could feel Noct’s eyes on him, and it wasn’t long before the king was down on the ground with him, laughing happily as Umbra started licking his face.

The sun was warm on his back, the man he loved was beside him, and for once, Prompto felt like everything was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

Five years later…

Noctis couldn’t help but smile fondly at the scene before him.

Prompto sat cross-legged on the floor, paint smudged all over his clothes, face and in his haphazardly tied-up hair—Noct hadn’t realised how long it had been getting until Prompto had started complaining about it being in his face all the time, yet still refusing to cut it, just like the ridiculous beard he’d insisted on growing out recently—an arrangement of soft toys before him with a small girl sitting in the middle of them, babbling on about something or other as she moved the toys around and occasionally handed some to Prompto.

Aranea had brought Celina with her a year or so ago when she’d visited, explaining briefly that she’d rescued the child in Niflheim and had discovered very quickly that she had a brand and abilities similar to Prompto’s. Out of the blue, Noctis and Prompto had become parents.

They’d been a little unsure at first. After all, it had only been a couple of years since they had married, having declared and solidified their undying love for each other in the gardens at the Citadel not long before leaving Lucis altogether and coming to Altissia.

Since Lucis had survived so long without its monarchy, there had been no need for Noct to stay there and rule, and so his court had disbanded, but remained friends since then. Everyone had gone their separate ways, though most of them were still in Lucis, bar Ravus, Luna, Aranea, Cor, and of course, he and Prompto.

Ravus and Luna had gone off to Tenebrae not long before Noct, Prompto and Cor made their way to Altissia, and Luna often came to visit them (and almost always brought the dogs with her). No one was entirely sure where Aranea was spending most of her time, as she’d been seen by just about everyone at various points since she’d left, but she did send letters on occasion.

Or, you know, bring a child from Niflheim and leave her with her relatively incompetent friends.

Noctis was certainly very thankful for Cor’s presence nearby—he lived only a short distance from their house—when it came to child-rearing. He’d been beyond helpful since Celina had come into their lives, and the girl had taken to him quickly, perhaps even quicker than she had to Noctis, although that was probably also partly to do with the fact that she understood no Lucian when she came to them, and he didn’t understand much of Niflheim’s language in return. Eventually, Noct had made Prompto teach him more Nif, and the two of them (plus Cor) had been teaching Celina Lucian, so now everyone could communicate decently enough in either language.

Noct was kind of amazed at himself for not slacking off in learning the language for once.

Thankfully, it didn’t matter what any of them spoke in Altissia, as there were enough migrants for any language to not be an issue for people around them to understand.

“Papa!”

Noctis grinned as Celina scrambled over to him, clumsily flinging herself into his arms with a giggle. He lifted her up for a proper cuddle as he wandered further into the lounge and plonked down on the ground beside his husband, Celina still attached to his torso.

“Hey.” Prompto greeted, leaning over to give Noct a quick kiss. “We’re playing tea party, are you joining us?”

“Is that even a question? Of course I am.” He chuckled.

Prompto smiled and reached over to gently tickle Celina’s side. “Hey, how about you introduce your guests to Papa?”

The girl was immediately flinging herself back towards her toys, eagerly beginning to tell Noctis about all of them in a mixture of Nif, Lucian, and pure toddler babbling. Noct was having trouble keeping up (and had might’ve gotten a little bit distracted by Prompto snuggling up close to him and tracing little patterns across his back, and then he had retaliated by running his hand up and down his husband’s thigh somewhat teasingly), but he got the general idea of it, and was soon engaged in conversations with toys over imaginary biscuits and cups of tea. He was nowhere near as good at it as Prompto was, but watching his husband interacting with their daughter and her toys was making Noct feel as though he was falling in love with him all over again.

But that was pretty cheesy, and he wasn’t about to say it in front of Celina.

“You were looking at me funny earlier.” Prompto stated later that evening, well after they had put Celina to bed. They’d retreated to their room a while ago, and now their sheets were pooled somewhere around their tangled legs, Noctis was still half laying on top of Prompto, and the both of them were slowly tipping into a blissful sleepiness. “Did I have something on my face?”

“Other than paint and this little bit of dirt?” Noctis teased, rubbing his nose against Prompto’s beard scruff.

“Piss off.” He snorted, shoving Noct’s face away jokingly.

“I’m kidding, I love it.”

“Sure you do. Anyway, if it wasn’t that, what was with the weird look before?”

Noctis smiled and planted a kiss on Prom’s cheek. “Just remembering how much I love you.”

“You’re such a sap.” Prompto laughed, but turned to give Noct a kiss anyway.

“That’s why you married me, right? For the sappy fairytale love story?”

“Obviously. I mean, what else was I supposed to do? I broke the spell on you, I was kind of obliged to marry you after that, if we’re using fairytale logic.”

“That’s very true.”

Prompto laughed again and nuzzled into Noct’s neck. “I love you, Noctis Caelum.”

Noctis smiled, gently running his fingers through his husband’s hair.

“I love you too, Prompto Caelum.”

The End.