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Noctis Lucis Calum lead a somewhat protected life, and thus did not see any real animals up close until he was three years old. Unfortunately, the first animal he met was a rather large rat that had been attracted to the less-than-satisfactory housekeeping in the most regularly used dining room. The rat was quite fat and had nothing but compliments for the scraps he had found, which distracted Noctis from his highly unappetizing, vegetable laden meal he was supposed to be eating. He looked around at the people in the room, his father, his father’s shield and the Immortal being the only other people present in the room. Noctis knew that the voice did not belong to any of them, and the were currently holding an intense discussion on King’s-glaive op-or-ate-shones, and were not commenting on any food.
Noctis ducked his head under the table, in case someone was under there and saw a furry, moving thing at his dad’s feet. Lifting his head up to look at the three adults, he saw they were still talking and he slid down to the floor, crawling over to the furry object on the floor.
“Hello.” He said to the thing now search for food in the hems of his dad’s pants. This scared the thing, and Noctis hastily apologised like his dad said he should when he scared Ignis (Noctis will always say that he did not do it on purpose, bluntly ignoring the deadpan stare. The object stared at him momentarily before murmuring about stupid kitlings and no touching or bite him.
Noctis decided he wasn’t very nice before climbing out from the table and attempting to climb back into his chair, which caught his father’s attention.
“Are you finished, Noctis?” He inquired, pulling the adult’s conversation short.
“Uhh, yes dad. But dad, what’s that furry thing at your feet? It says it’s looking for food.”
Noctis’s question prompted Regis and his companions to look at their feet, Regis jumping in fright with a rather high-pitched squeal.
Ignis was instructed to teach Noctis about animals after the dinner became a mushy mess on the floor, complete with splinters from the destroyed table and chips of stone. Ignis taught him from books about animals, ones with frogs and birds. When he asked, Ignis told him that there were some animals all over the Citadel, proceeding to show him a very fluffy cat called Turnip that stalked the kitchens looking for any turnips.
Why are the delicious things always out of reach? Noctis heard the cat complain in a much put upon sigh. The cat turned away from the busy kitchen, spotting Ignis and Noctis and proceeding the weave itself through Ignis’s legs.
Ah! It’s the nice boy who will give me slivers of food!
“Can we feed it, Ignis? I think it is hungry.” He pleaded, looking at Ignis with wide eyes.
“Hm. That should be no issue, Your Highness. Turnip here is particularly fond of, well, turnips. Give me a moment and I shall ask the staff for some.” Quickly setting the cat away from his legs, Ignis strode over to converse with the kitchen staff.
“Hello Turnip.” Noctis said to the cat. “May I pat you?”
Oh, please! I love being pet. I especially like a scritch behind the ears.
Noctis complied, scratching the fluffy feline behind the ears.
Oh. That’s nice. Now if you could give me some of the delicious slivers, I would be in heaven.
“Ignis is getting some of the turnips that he said you liked, is that what your after?” The young prince asked, curious.
Can you understand me, youngling? The cat replied, turning to look at Noctis with it’s big blue eyes. Shaking it’s white fur, it huffed to itself, pressing it’s head to Noctis’s hand. What a stupid thought, Maralina! A human understand anything but themselves!
“I can hear you, Mara- Maral- Maralina? I thought your name was Turnip?” Noctis inquired, scratching the fluffy animal.
Oh, I have never met a human who can understand me.
“Well, I’ve never met a cat before. Are there other cats here?” He replied, curiously looking around as if he might see them now.
Big Blue is no longer around. He had reached a mighty age and left us for the ancestors.
“What-“
“Your Highness, I have the turnips. Would you like to feed some to Turnip?” Ignis called as he walked over to the pair.
“Can I?” He pleaded, looking up at Ignis with wide blue eyes.
Ignis opened his mouth before closing it again. “You may, Your Highness. Here.” The older boy directed, handing Noctis a few slivers of white vegetables.
“I don’t know why the cat likes them, they’re vegetables!” Noctis exclaimed, holding his hand out to the cat.
They’re my favourite, if you please! Maralina commented with a haughty sniff, before quickly snatching the pieces out of his hand and eating them.
“Hey Ignis. Do cats have lots of names?” The young prince queried, watching the fluffy feline consume the vegetables.
“I have only ever known this cat to be called Turnip, Your Highness. Though I have come across mentions that cats have as many as seven names. I am not quite sure if this is true though.”
Noctis was summarily introduced to only the most easily accessible animals; pigeons in the gardens, along with a small flock of parrots, chickens in the eastern courtyard, and even a large, brown owl who did little more than eye the young duo wearily before tucking it’s head back under it’s wing.
Pigeons Noctis had lots of trouble understanding, as he only understood half the words, the words mutilated beyond his recognition or in a whole other language. The parrots would only come close enough to talk to him if he brought them fruits or bits of bread, though the parrots would open up easily and tell him of a whole world that he has never seen full of people, sights and sounds that he could barely imagine. After talking to the parrots he tried to draw some of the things that they spoke of, showing his dad when he next had time the multiple pictures and telling him what there were supposed to be, prompting his dad to tell him stories of his adventures before he had become king.
Noctis found the sounds of chickens high-pitched and annoying, they reminded him of the fluttering ladies in the large ‘balls’ his father held, (which had nothing to do with round spherical objects that bounced and rolled) who spoke over him, smothering, pinching his cheeks and ignoring him in turn.
They also were evil. They often squawked, pecked and leapt at the then tiny four year old, demanding food anytime he got near them. Cor got the fright of his life that day, with the young prince in tears, having fallen over and gotten swarmed with chickens.
When Noctis was shown a movie, Dr. Dolittle, at the age of four and a half, he would excitedly tell Ignis as well as anyone would listen that he could talk to animals too. His father and Cor would only smile at him and pat his head, while Ignis would gently tell him that it was ‘imp-ossy-ball’ to talk to animals. It wasn’t until four weeks before his fifth birthday until he overheard some maids talking while they cleaned his room that he realised that he was the only one who could hear the animals, and no one believed that animals could be understood.
No one believed him.
That realisation hit Noctis hard, hiding in the dusty secret passages that Maralina had shown him weeks prior, crying and hugging his knees until the very large Maralina found him.
Dearest Little Kit, she started, calling to him with the name she had given him. You are the kindest of hearts, sharing what you know with the others, but they do not understand. They may never understand. Your heart to make us understood is too big, we are content to have you hear us.
He had clung to Maralina for over an hour, climbing back into the castle proper over three hours after he had disappeared. The dusty, dirty, tear-tracked face of the prince causing relieved sighs and a called off search party, though produced an upsettingly quiet and out-of-sorts prince for the next week or so.
Less than a month after his fifth birthday, Maralina disappeared for two days, only being found by a maid who discovered her and her kittens in one of the disused rooms on the third floor. Much to everyone’s confusion the mother cat was extremely protective of her kittens and only let Noctis near them, even going so far as to protect him as if he was one of the kittens himself. Noctis was delighted with the new playmates, after they had grown old enough to leave their mother, often being seen following them around or being followed himself. The newest additions, in true cat fashion were not named until their personalities or adventures named them.
Maralina admitted to choosing her fifth name after being called Turnip, enjoying the exotic and feminine twist of the word.
She had had a mixed breed litter of five kittens, three boys and two girls. The two girls were complete opposites; Dottie, with a dark brown with white spotted coat was very forgetful, and also had the unfortunate tendency of being easily frightened or scared by her siblings, especially Mischievous. Mischievous was her only sister, and was always doing something that would get her scolded by her mother, usually something that would require Maralina to pin the squirming kitten down to bath the beautiful chocolate brown coat back to a pristine condition. Mischievous was often accompanied by Fuzzball, named so after a very short and eventful tumble in the drier made his white coat (so similar to his mother’s) fluff up to twice his size. Fuzzball and Mischievous were often scolded by Boss if he found them first, which was not often as he liked to join Cuddles in following Noctis around and coercing Noctis into naps with them or petting them as he admired their differently coloured fur. Boss had a light brown coat with white socks and a white tipped tail while Cuddles had an unusual pure black coat that contrasted heavily with his siblings.
Cuddles loved to accompany Noctis (whose name had been changed to Brightest Light by Maralina on the birth of her own litter) and would sulk when separated from him.
Noctis was set on calling the kittens by their names, but was eventually convinced to call Cuddles by another name, Nightingale. He had named him in cat fashion, unknowingly to the people he was surrounded by, for sleeping in a nightingale’s nest, until he was unceremoniously kicked out.
In Tenebrae, after the attack of the Maralith and his awakening from the coma he had fallen into, his eyes were glazed after another night remembering the screams, fire, pain and blood.
He greeted the Oracle and her family as politely as he could, not holding much hope that he could be healed, despite what his father insisted. He was roomed with Lunafreya, whose full name he could not pronounce correctly at the time. Luna, as he had taken to calling her, introduced him to both Gentiana and the two messenger pups, Pryha and Umbra.
Luna seemed somewhat startled as he addressed them directly. “Hello Pryha, Umbra. I’m Noctis. It’s nice to meet you.”
What he had said was little to no variation to what he had said to Gentiana before she had left, and when he looked to Luna he could not understand her confusion.
“What’s wrong, Luna?” The young prince asked, looking up at her.
“Most people do not try to directly converse with them, and when they do, they do not speak as if expecting an answer, thinking that they are merely animals.”
Noctis bit his tongue, guarding it against the nasty rebuke that he wanted to throw at her. She didn’t know better. And it seemed that nobody would.
“They are the messengers of the gods, right? So why would I not greet them correctly?”
Luna merely shook her head before being called away by a passing servant.
Noctis turned to Pryha and Umbra. “I’ve never met a messenger of the gods before. What is it like?”
Rather boring, Umbra piped up. And there is never enough snacks.
Glutton. Came the cool, fond sound of Pryha.
“What snacks do you eat? As messengers of the gods, what do you eat?” Noctis replied, curious.
I honestly did not expect that. Pryha mumbled overshadowed by a surprised yip and backward skitter from Umbra. No wonder you spoke to us directly. You can understand us easily.
“Uh, yeah. I suppose. I don’t really have anyone to compare it with.”
I like sausages. And bacon. And brown sauce stuff. I don’t remember the name. We don’t have to eat, but it is nice. Umbra answered, almost salivating at the thought.
“I’ll get you some.”
Maralina did not like Umbra. Neither did her litter. Nightingale despised Umbra, generally hissing incoherently at him from Noctis’ shoulder.
They were not friends, thank you very much, Brightest Light. Stop trying to get us to play.
At nine Noctis had a bright idea to use his ability to talk to animals to collect information. “Hey Mischievous? Do you hear a lot of what people say when your running around? Or is it mostly background noise?”
I hear many things Bright Light, not all of them pleasant.
“Could you tell me what people in the castle are saying about the war? I’m afraid for my dad. He’s always tired when I see him, and I don’t see him as much any more...”
I can do one better and collect information from all the creatures in the castle.... except the mice and chickens. Chickens are evil.
Very soon, Noctis was the most informed person in the castle. People would say anything in front of those who do not speak.
At the very few events that Noctis was to participate in, he had made it a game to be the person to notice what was going on.
Lady Clarfield was being mean to Narsusita, the Accordio ambassador, after her niece had been rejected for the job. Baron Inklast was very happy with his crop this season and was holding back the figures in his taxes. Magneel Winter, the son of Lieutenant General Winter, had a fondness for saying ‘Wait til my father hears about this!’ and generally complaining about the ‘lepers leeching of our coin’- the last of which Noctis didn’t understand.
‘What are lepers?’ Noctis would wonder, but never ask, as Ignis had a horrified look and quickly told him to never say that word again. Even with all this information he was receiving, Noctis understood very little of it. He could recite it, but he didn’t the reasons people were talking about it. The animals he talked to didn’t know either.
By high school, Noctis had mastered the art of both talking to animals without looking crazy, and listening to them without completely spacing out. Unfortunately, the spacing out had already affected his ability to make friends at the school he attended, along with the heavy pressure of royalty and watching his back for people trying to use him.
When Prompto (re)introduced himself to Noctis though, Noctis could now focus and reply like any other person. Though as the months and years past, Noctis only found it harder and harder to try and tell his best friend what he had almost given up on telling anyone.
So Noctis never told him. Didn’t really get the chance.
After Prompto became fast friends with Ignis and Gladio, Gladio was all too eager to tell embarrassing tales of Noctis’ childhood.
“Oi, Iggy, do you remember when Noctis thought he could talk to animals?” Gladio called over to Ignis, who was preparing dinner for the four on the movie night. Out of politeness, Noctis had pushed them to wait until Ignis was done so that they could all watch the movie.
Noctis, of course, regretted that now, three embarrassing- but normal- stories ago, and did his level best not to freeze in despair.
‘Prompto will never believe me now.’
“I do.” Ignis replied, absent-mindedly pushing his glasses back up his nose with the back of his hand. “Though I am sure that it was only because he had just watched Dr. Dolittle.”
Though Ignis had tried, it didn’t really soften to blow.
“Noct was so convinced that he could, he kept trying to tell me that Nightingale doesn’t like it when he goes to training! Aha! It was-“
A nasty hissing stopped Gladio, before Nightingale leapt into Noctis’ lap from the shadows, purring up a storm. Noctis was glad for the reprieve, he looked down at Nightingale and carded his shaking hands through the obsidian coloured coat, blocking out the rest of the conversation.
(Though if he had been listening he would have heard Gladio grumbling about the weird-ass cat and how it always seems to turn up when Gladio mentioned him. He also missed the mildly concerned look from Prompto and the thoughtful glance that Ignis spared in his direction.)
Noctis, after the fall of Insomnia slowly curled into himself. His father was gone, his home in ruins and was now expected to go and retrieve his ancestor’s weapons in order to take the throne back.
(But he knew that it wouldn’t bring anyone they loved back, he wouldn’t fool himself.)
He fell back into bad habits, talking to the happy-go-lucky chocobos that they had hired as if they could talk back, they did, but he had started doing it in front of the others. Other then the increase of concerned looks, the other three said nothing for a week before Gladio snapped at him one night.
...running is the best! The chocobo exclaimed. Noctis laughed at the bird’s enthusiasm. The feeling of air-
“For crying out loud! Noct, that’s enough! The chocobo can’t talk to you and you can’t talk to it! What exactly are you trying to prove? You need to man up and stop acting like a child!” Gladio roared, upending his chair and stalking towards Noctis with heavy footsteps.
“A-ah, I-I’m so-“ Noctis stammered, his head down and a flush suffusing his face.
How rude. The chocobo commented from behind Noctis.
Noctis was preoccupied by Gladio hauling him up by his collar, getting into Noctis’ face. “How about you stop acting like spoilt child and start acting like a king?!”
Noctis froze, then closed his eyes. He didn't want to deal with this anymore.
When he opened them, he smiled at Gladio, a knife-sharp smile, and coldly replied.
“I am being a child, aren’t I? My apologies, Gladio. I shall stop playing and start acting my age.” Noctis slapped Gladio’s hand off his collar, and walked around the fire to the tent, climbing in. He ignored Ignis exclaimation that he hadn’t had dinner, as well as the muttering that came after.
He was too busy supressing his sobs, failing to do so with the endless tears that rolled down his cheeks. When he fell asleep, he didn’t notice Ignis admonishing Gladio nor did he notice Prompto climb into the tent next to him, seeing the red of his eyes and trails on his cheeks.
Noctis forced himself into focus, no longer bantering with the others, attacking the bounties with an almost reckless precision. His companions became increasingly aware of Noctis’ sudden and complete capability in detecting and defeating animals, especially as it became obvious that they were not taking down many voretooth from the packs of ten and even fifteen of the animal.
Noctis didn’t hesitate anymore.
Prompto tried to get Noctis to interact with any of the friendlier animals, often shoving baby chocobos and lost kittens in his face, before Noctis turned away, his face a mask. Ignis often made food for or idle comments on the animals, while Gladio steadily got grumpier at Noctis’ attitude. Gladio would comment on little things that he believed that Noctis did wrong, or that he should have done, looking for things to complain about.
It came to the point that when Gladio told him that he would be leaving for a while, not specifying how long or where to, Noctis merely nodded and walked away.
Noctis felt like he was breaking.
The chocobos were upset, he wouldn’t talk to them at all. Making the chocobos upset made every ride uncomfortable, another thing for Gladio to berate him for.
Couldn’t he do anything right?
It hurt to ignore the animals that Prompto shoved at him, and the comments that Ignis would make on them.
He could even genuinely laugh with his friends anymore.
Why did he feel so cold?
Ignis picked up a hunt from a worried Wiz, one to search for the hurt chocobos. Noctis found the first very easily, but couldn’t get near the scared bird to administer any medicine.
“He’s scared Noct!” Prompto called from a few feet away. Noctis stepped away from the bird.
“Why don’t you give it a try Prom? I’m not getting anywhere.”
Prompto looked up to reply, but a sharp look from Ignis stopped it.
Prompto tried as Ignis and Noctis watched. Or rather, as Noctis watched. Ignis watched Noctis instead, and saw the Prince’s growing frustration. Noctis opened his mouth a couple of times, only to snap it shut and clench his hands into tighter and tighter fists.
Prompto sagged, handing it back to Noctis. “Haha, right. That’s a lot harder than it looks!”
Noctis sighed, and slowly moved forward to the chocobo.
Please, don’t hurt me! I don’t know what you want!
“We aren’t going to hurt you.” Noctis mumbled, trying to prevent the others from hearing.
No! No! You’re going to pluck all my feathers! Please don’t!
“Why would we want your feathers, Chicky?” Noctis asked, mildly perplexed.
You can hear me? You’re the one that can hear us all?
“Uh, yeah. How did you hear that?” Noctis replied, forgetting that they had an audience. The chocobo limped up to Noctis, favouring the left foot and stopping five meters short.
The racers in the pens sometimes get out, and we talk. I’m Twiskly.
“You’re hurt, Twiskly. Will you let me help you? We have some medicine that will help.” Noctis called softly, trying to encourage to large yellow bird closer.
The bird chattered as it did so, Noctis replying casually before suggesting she sit down. She did so, the noise of her feathers settling drowning out the gasp from Prompto, who received a side-long look from Ignis.
Prompto cringed apologetically, before watching Noctis again.
Noctis quickly and efficiently cleaned, potioned and wrapped the mostly healed wound with an ease that suggested he did it often.
The bird stood up, Noctis following it, with admonishments to be careful and to avoid the couerls, not to play with them. With a careful brush of feathers and an affectionate rub of the chocobos head against Noctis’ the bird was off.
When the three lost sight of the bird, Ignis and Prompto noticed Noctis flinch, his shoulder coming up defensively. When Noctis turned, he watched each of them wearily, in silence.
Prompto shuffled, unsure how to bring up the already ridiculously sore spot.
“It was not the make believe of a five year-olds mind, was it Noct?” Ignis asked softly, shifting his glasses back into place on his nose.
Noctis shifted, looking away. A few seconds later, Noctis opened his mouth, thought better of it and closed it. A moment later, he replied.
“It is impossible to talk to animals, Ignis. No matter how many times you say it doesn’t make it any more true.”
Ignis startled for a moment hearing the words he said to Noctis fifteen years earlier. He also remembered with sudden clarity the continuation of the chiding he had given. ‘So stop with this ridiculous nonsense and start behaving like a prince!’
How often had Noctis been told to act as his station, and not as himself?
“Is it though? Really? ‘Cause if you say it isn’t, I’m pretty close to believing you bro.” Prompto questioned, stepping towards Noctis.
The words startled Noctis who had dropped his head against their gaze. He looked at Prompto, eyes imploring.
“R-really? It’s n-not a joke?”
Ignis had to wonder just how much Noctis had been shamed for this. And why no one sort to prove it right or wrong.
“I believe there is another two chocobos to find, and no, Noct. It’s not a joke.”
Ignis and Prompto were treated to the brightest smile they had ever seen from Noctis before.
Noctis was originally hesitant to believe them when they said that they believed him, and after a couple of days waiting for the punchline and not receiving one, he opened up, conveying the chocobo’s names, how bony a rider Prompto was, exactly how often Mischievous had deliberately waylaid Ignis by breaking or messing up something in his way.
They got to Lestallum, and chuckling at all the translated comment that Noctis provided before picking up a rather urgent hunt for Holly. Noctis, though still noticeably happier that two of his friends believed him about hearing animals, clammed shut about the animals when Gladio returned. Gladio was in a better mood as well and it went swimmingly until Gladio heard Noctis talking to Ignis’ rather unsettled chocobo like it was a conversation.
Gladio frowned, mildly irritated, but decided to stop this before getting angry at Noctis’ strange behaviour.
“Didn’t we already settle this whole ‘talking to animals’ thing already, Noct?”
Noctis refused to turn around, steadying his shaking hands in the bird’s feathers.
Ignis cleared his throat, before claiming Gladio’s attention and explaining the situation. Gladio nodded, listened and was still clearly uncomfortable.
It wasn’t until Noctis verbally shamed the Midgardsormr into the waters that Gladio believed it. He apologised to Noctis, who gave him the same bright smile he had given Ignis and Prompto.
His friends believed him, and still cared about him, despite some how being able to talk to animals.
Huh. Why could he talk to animals anyway?