Archive of Our Own

Cor Leonis had been thirteen years old when he enlisted into the Crownsguard, and fifteen when he became the official bodyguard of King Mors. Anyone would think that in the six years of service that followed, he would be immune to surprises.

He had travelled with the then-Prince Regis, seen the world, fought in a war, fought a god, and made it back in time for dinner. Cor had made a name for himself, and had a path in life - serve the king of Lucis, and make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble.

Surprise did come for him, however, at the tender age of twenty-five.

When Cor Leonis was twenty-five years old, he became a father.

It hadn’t been intentional; it wasn’t like he was married, or even involved with anyone. Cor was pretty much married to the job and he liked it that way.

All he had done was infiltrate a magitek base in Niflheim, where he was tasked to find out as much as he could about the MT soldiers. Niflheim had them outnumbered and outmatched in terms of technology, so Lucis would have to be smart to hold the Empire back. Finding their weak spots would put the Lucian soldiers one step ahead.

Cor hadn’t expected to find people there. Fuck, he read the reports. There were kids there, being raised just so they could be made into daemons for the Empire’s control. It wasn’t what Cor had expected at all and the thought made him sick to his stomach.

So when he had run to hide in a side room and found a small baby there, likely left by a researcher who saw it only as a weapon in progress rather than an actual child, Cor felt like he had a moral obligation to take the child with him.

He couldn’t save them all. So many more children would be brought up only to be subjected to such a cruel fate, but he could save this one.

So he did.

It hadn’t been easy; sneaking around enemy territory was hard at the best of times. Doing it with a baby had been a real testament to the reputation Cor had cultivated for himself. He had several near misses and had come close to capture far more frequently than he would have on his own, but every time he looked into the baby’s big, blue-purple eyes, he knew he was doing the right thing.

It’d be a tough one to explain, but the kid was coming with him. This one little baby boy was coming home.

----------
“I brought back a baby.”

Cor gestured to the bundle in his arms, now appropriately dressed in a onesie with a fat chocobo on the front and not something that resembled a clinical gown. The kid was also wrapped up in a white knitted blanket, since it was midwinter and the child was very, very little. He couldn’t have been any older than the infant Prince Noctis.

Regis and Clarus had given him two different looks.

Regis appeared a little confused but eager to hear what Cor had to say, while Clarus looked like he was preparing for a long night. It had been late when Cor had arrived back to Insomnia, but he needed to see the King.

He also needed to get some formula for the baby, and some clothes. That had come first, because babies didn’t work on a schedule.

“Congratulations? Astrals, Cor, exactly how long were you in Niflheim for?”

“Regis.”

“I never realised you had baby fever, but you can adopt a child here, you know,”

“Were it not for my oath to protect the king and the fact that I’m holding a baby, I’d be ready to smack you,”

Regis just laughed. He had always seen the humour in the frank way Cor spoke with him.

“There’s that candor we all know and love,”

“Okay, okay, let’s actually get back on topic,” Clarus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to look at Cor. “Why, exactly, did you bring back a baby?”

Good old Clarus, always asking the important questions.

“Because I found him in the lab. The MTs, they’re made from human clones, not sure where they all originally came from. But they’re raised from babies and once they’re old enough, they’re turned to demons and then to MTs.”

Cor gave the other two a moment to process what he was saying, noting their expressions turn to one of horror.

“That’s sick, even for the Empire,” Clarus spoke softly, looking at the baby in Cor’s arms with something akin to sympathy. His own son had recently turned three, and would happily toddle around to anyone to show off his new ability to speak in sentences.

Regis remained silent, but Cor knew it hit him too.

Prince Noctis was barely a few months old; Regis could probably imagine it was his son in Cor’s arms, not a child from their enemy nation.

Both men adored their children. Clarus had always proudly declared that Gladiolus was an easy child; never one to fuss too much and already showing himself to be a social little thing. The youngest Amicitia had already charmed half the women in the Lucian royal court.

And though Prince Noctis was still so young, Regis could talk for hours about his son. Cor had been the one to drive him when Noctis was born; he had gone so fast he had actually dented the car. After that, he had been subjected to many rants about the prince’s chubby cheeks and big, blue eyes.

It probably hit a little too close to home, hearing that the Empire was cloning children for that kind of life, if it could even be called that. But they had sent Cor for intel, so here it was. No one said anyone had to like what he found.

“Someone had left the kid alone, on some metal table. I...I just took him.”

After a moment, Clarus nodded in understanding.

“I imagine we would have done the same, now we know what he was destined for,”

“Agreed. It’s an awful fate for anyone, never mind a child. How did you manage to get him back?”

“With a lot of concentration, very little sleep, and a few stolen baby supplies.”

Regis laughed again, though softer this time. Cor had taken what reports he could and they sat neatly on Regis’ desk. Their contents were the more disturbing reality that Cor had tried to condense down. There would be some useful information there; some parts about weaknesses and kill switches, but it felt hollow knowing what those MTs once were.

“Well, they don’t call you The Immortal for nothing. If you can smuggle a baby out of Niflheim, I imagine there’s little you can’t do,”

“But this now begs the question: what do we do with him?”

Again, Cor could count on Clarus to ask the relevant questions. He just hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“What do you mean?”

“There was nothing in the reports about the children being...involved in the daemonification?”

“No, just when they reach maturity. It seems before that they just keep the children alive,”

Regis nodded and hummed, appearing in thought. For all his jokes, he took his duty seriously and this certainly changed things.

“Before we take this further, I think it would be best for us to not circulate the information about how MTs are made. I imagine soldiers may struggle to fight them if they knew,”

Cor and Clarus both gave their assent. Cor himself wasn’t sure what to make of it. Could he tear down another Imperial soldier, knowing it started life just like the baby he had brought home?

“Now that’s settled, about the child...have you thought of a name, Cor?”

That surprised him.

“What?”

“For the boy. I can’t imagine the Empire gave him one,”

“No, they gave him a barcode.”

There was a pause born from the discomfort everyone in the room still felt about the apple of the Empire’s eye. Cor thought of the fragile thing he was holding and the tiny code on its wrist, imagining that the Empire wouldn’t care about sparing pain for what they thought of as merchandise.

It made his blood boil. This wasn’t an item he could purchase, this was a living child.

An unfamiliar feeling rose in Cor at the thought; something protective and defensive.

“But I didn’t get a chance,” He continued. “I heard someone say Prompto when I was coming back into Lucis, thought that sounded pretty good,”

Clarus hummed a little, then looked back to Cor with a slightly wicked grin on his face. It had been a while since he had seen Clarus look like that.

“Prompto Leonis. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Now Regis was looking positively gleeful, and Cor was beginning to wonder what he was getting into.

“Yes, I think it suits him. I suppose I should return to my previous comment - congratulations, Cor.”

Cor thought about it.

He thought about how tired Clarus had looked ever since Gladiolus had been born, and he was a supposedly textbook child. If this baby turned out to be particularly fussy or sickly, Cor would never get a decent night’s sleep again.

Not to mention how busy he was. He had the whole Crownsguard under his command. He needed to train the new recruits, keep the older ones up to date, make sure he was running a tight ship. Would he even have time to raise a child?

And that was it - he had brought the baby to Lucis so he could have a better life. Hell, so he could have a normal life. If Cor wasn’t present, could he claim to be able to provide that? He was unsure around kids - they couldn’t just express what they needed, and Astrals, they needed a lot.

But then he thought of giving this child away. Would he be putting civilians at risk? What if there was something he missed in the reports?

More importantly, he just didn’t want to. He had brought the child safely to Lucis, had rocked him and fed him. He felt a sort of connection to the kid.

So, huh. Maybe Clarus and Regis were onto something. Both of them were looking at him expectantly.

“Thanks, I guess. I...shit, I don’t have anything for babies.”

Clarus let out a loud laugh, walking over to clap Cor amicably on the shoulder. In his arms, the baby - Prompto - was staring curiously up at the two of them.

“Regis, old friend, do you think you can manage on your own tomorrow? I think I’ll need to help our Marshal set up a nursery,”

“There goes my spare room,”

“You didn’t use it anyway,”

So it was settled. Cor Leonis, The Immortal, Marshal to the Crownsguard and trusted soldier of King Regis, was now also a father.

----------

Clarus had been invaluable.

With his help, Cor actually had everything he might need to look after a small child. He had never really cared much about home decor, since he was mostly at work anyway, but even Regis had appeared to lend a hand and before he knew it his spare room had been painted a spring green, with chocobo and moogle decals decorating the walls.

It had pictures, and an overwhelming number of stuffed animals, along with a crib, a changing table, an armchair and so many other things Cor had never even thought about. It was the most decorated room in his house.

Not that Prompto even noticed that, because he was a baby and hadn’t even mastered holding his own head up yet, but he had seemed fascinated by the chocobos, and was mostly content to put whatever his little hands could grab in his mouth.

Clarus had assured him that this was, in fact, standard baby behaviour.

He had to leave eventually, because he had his own life and his own child, but Regis had been merciful enough to find time to stay with Cor into the early evening.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I have no idea what I’m doing,”

“And you think I do?” Regis laughed, though his expression was genial. “That’s the secret to parenthood, Cor. None of us know what we’re doing. We just keep trying to do the right thing,”

Well, when Regis put it like that.

Cor could do the right thing, couldn’t he? He’d managed it so far. And Prompto seemed happy enough so far.

That was until he woke up, screaming bloody murder. Cor had thought he was being attacked at first and practically sprinted up the stairs, only to find Prompto alone in his crib, wailing like the world was ending.

Regis had taken his time joining them, no doubt used to this now that he had been a father for a few months. Cor wondered if Prince Noctis was this loud.

“See? I have no idea what he needs,” Cor stared helplessly, holding Prompto to his chest and swaying slightly.

“Does he need changing?”

“No, I can tell when it’s that,”

Regis just looked at him with understanding and sympathy.

“Hungry?”

“He ate not too long ago,”

“Babies need to be fed every four hours or so, Cor.”

“Wait, seriously? During the night as well?”

Regis nodded, and Cor groaned. He knew shit all about babies.

“I’ll try that, then.”

He carried Prompto downstairs, trying to hush him with little success. For a couple of seconds the baby was interested enough in the fridge to be quiet, but soon lost that interest and started crying again.

Cor had never felt under more pressure in his life.

Clarus had bought him this thing that heated baby bottles to the right temperature, telling him it would save a lot of time and hassle. Cor wouldn’t have even considered that there was a right temperature.

But that seemed to do the trick, because as soon as he managed to settle Prompto in one arm so he could hold the bottle with the other, the baby calmed. So, hungry. Got it.

He continued to look at Cor with those big eyes, cheeks still red from his crying.

At some point he would have to do this without Regis or Clarus there to help. He didn’t have people there to help him, like the King and Amicitias did. It was just him and a baby.

But people did that all the time, right? Cor had been head to head with Gilgamesh, he was going to be fine, wasn’t he?

Regis gently rested a hand on Cor’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

“You’ll pick it up.”

After Regis left, Cor had sat with Prompto until he fell asleep, not daring to move for a good while in case he woke up. Eventually, the baby was put in his new crib and only woke when he needed something.

Cor still didn’t sleep at all that night.

----------

Cor hadn’t imagined what kind of father he would be.

Sure, he had the resources to make sure Prompto had a comfortable life, and he was attached enough to the kid to want him to be happy, but it wasn’t a situation he ever imagined he would be in.

So he had been one of the many people who was surprised to find out he was a rather protective parent.

He would have his Crownsguard run drills while he held Prompto. It had led to a new phenomenon where small groups would come up to him to coo over the new little addition, which Prompto appeared absolutely delighted by.

The one thing Cor had been prepared for was questions.

The story he told was sort of true; he said he found Prompto alone in enemy territory and once he found out no one was there to care for him, he brought the baby to Lucis.

He just left out the lab part.

Since it was winter, he could get away with putting little gloves on Prompto that covered the code on his wrist. Not that the kid minded; it was just something else he could stick in his mouth.

Maybe it would have been better to let Prompto go to some kind of daycare, since Cor did a lot of shouting and he must have become a lot less intimidating when there was a small baby trying to grab his face.

But Cor didn’t want to, even if the Citadel offered only the best in childcare. Wherever Cor went, Prompto went, and wherever Prompto went, his little fat chocobo toy also went. Cor lived in fear of one day losing that toy - Prompto wouldn’t settle without it.

He didn’t seem bothered by the barked commands, at any rate. Prompto appeared able to sleep through them just fine, even sometimes giving a little baby laugh when Cor told one of the new recruits to step it up.

He supposed, one day, he would train Prompto himself. No child of his would go into the world unable to defend himself.

But for the time being, Prompto had a lot to learn about being a functioning human, so Cor would shelf that thought.

--------

Regis had been ecstatic when he realised that with Cor’s new fatherhood came the potential for playdates. Clarus’ boy was a bit older and more interested in all the things that being three afforded him, like running and playing pretend.

In truth, Cor was a little relieved. He was still figuring this all out and Regis and Clarus seemed to know what to do, even if Regis had insisted they didn’t. It reassured him to have a more experienced parent around.

“They’re best friends!” Regis stated gleefully one time, watching Prompto and Noctis lie together on a play mat, both of them picking up various toys only to throw them in a fit of laughter.

“They probably don’t actually know each other exist yet, Regis,”

“Just you wait, they’ll be up to all kinds of trouble,”

“Oh, great, I can’t wait to have to ground my kid,” Cor responded, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Would he even be able to ground Prompto? Because every time Cor looked into those eyes that seemed to get more lilac every day, he struggled to stay mad. Even if it was some stupid hour of the night and he was exhausted.

“Well, if he’s anything like you were as a teen, it’ll be bound to happen,”

“What are you implying?”

Regis just offered a knowing smile and went back to cooing over the babies, who seemed to not even realise he was there because they had realised the low-hanging mobile spun and that was the pinnacle of entertainment.

It would be nice, if they could grow up to be friends, but Cor was more struck by the thought of himself as a young lad, full of arrogance and strutting off into danger before he was even an adult. Like hell was he going to let Prompto get away with that.

“You know it could go the other way, right? Maybe they’ll hate each other,”

“Oh ye of little faith, what we’re watching here is the beginning of a lifelong friendship,”

“Speaking of, maybe you should invite Cid over. He’d probably have a field day with this,”

The expression on Regis’ face changed a little, to something almost sad, before he nodded slowly.

“Maybe I should.”

----------

It turned out that Regis had been right.

From the moment they could walk, Prompto and Noctis were practically inseparable. They would spend hours playing in their imaginary worlds, climbing things they were far too little to be climbing and sometimes, daring each other to eat bugs.

As they grew, so did their friendship. It was nice to see the usually reserved prince have a friend, and it meant Cor could rest a little easier with Prompto, who also seemed to struggle to make friends. He had no idea where it came from, but it was almost like he held back from talking to people.

Cor knew, logically, that there was no way Prompto could remember what life was like for him as a baby, but the thought sometimes came to him nonetheless.

At least he had Prince Noctis, and he seemed to take to Gladiolus, revelling in the roughhousing that Noctis seemed to want to avoid. So there, he had two friends. Prompto was doing great.

Then young Ignis Scientia was brought in to be raised as advisor to Noctis, and Prompto had seemed a little starstruck by him. He had told Cor how cool he was, even though they were both still children.

Ignis himself seemed to like Prompto well enough. He was always pleasant and assured Cor once that Prompto might be the one to finally get Noctis to eat some kind of vegetable.

That made three whole friends. Cor had nothing to worry about; he’d made it this far, Prompto seemed happy and he had friends.

Astrals, this parenting thing never stopped being tiring.

Then there was the attack, and Prince Noctis was sent to Tenebrae to recover, along with his father. Prompto had been despondent for a few weeks, torn between worrying for Noctis’ health and upset that he couldn’t play with his friend anymore.

Sure, he still had Gladiolus and Ignis, but they were older and had their own duties to start preparing for, and often Prompto found himself alone.

The Crownsguard were still fairly taken by him and would happily let him sit with them while they took a break from training, each trying to tell the kid the coolest story they could think of. But it was no match for Noctis.

Prompto would ask Cor the same thing all the time, and each time he had no real answer.

“Dad, when’s Noct gonna be able to come back?”

“When he’s recovered, kid. King Regis says he gets stronger every day,”

Usually that was the end of it, but one time Prompto just fell silent rather than accept the reassurance. When he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

“What if he doesn’t want to come back? Like, what if he’s having so much fun with Lady Lunafreya and it looks so pretty in Tenebrae, what if he wants to stay there?”

“Well he has to come back; he’s the prince of Lucis, so he needs to be in Lucis,”

“It sucks that she can’t come visit too, then Noct can have all his friends together and I bet Lady Lunafreya is super nice,”

“Yeah, you said it, kid.”

Prompto had finally smiled when Cor ruffled his hair and wandered off.

Cor had recently bought him a camera, after Prompto had gushed over some photography he had seen in a shop window. He figured it would be a good distraction for the kid now that his best friend was miles away.

It had been a good call; Prompto took pictures of everything and would happily sit for hours while he figured out all the settings and tried different techniques. He had gone to sit on the sofa, going through his pictures and wondering aloud which ones he would want to show Prince Noctis once he returned.

Yeah, Prompto seemed happy enough; even if he was a little less bright and spent a little more time alone, he still seemed to be doing okay. This life was miles away from what he was meant for, and every time Cor remembered that he felt that little tug on his heart again.

Clarus had assured him that feeling was his paternal instinct and then joked that Cor had taken to it like a duck to water.

It took some time, but the young prince did come home, walking on his own two feet.

He beamed when he saw Prompto, the two of them once again side by side like Noctis had never left. Prompto was showing off his new camera, Noctis was telling him about his time in Tenebrae and Cor could finally breathe again, now that Prompto had that bounce back in his step.

Regis looked tired, and Cor knew enough about what happened in Tenebrae to know this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. The Empire had forced their hand.

Prince Noctis would know anyway; he was there. No doubt he would tell Prompto about the invasion. For now, they could let the children have this mercy.

“I didn’t realise he was able to walk on his own again,”

“Not for long; the damage will always be there, but I have been assured that it shouldn’t impact him too much. He can continue to recover here,”

“And Lady Lunafreya?”

“The Empire aren’t stupid. They won’t harm Lunafreya or Ravus, but now it is us against them; Lucis is the only place they haven’t seized,”

Cor nodded and as uncomfortable as this was, he knew where he stood. He was a soldier and he knew how to think about things like war and strategy and security. He had no idea what he would do if Prompto started asking questions.

“At least you can rest knowing Noctis will be alright,”

Regis sighed, and for a moment he wasn’t the King of Lucis. He was a father, just basking in the relief that his son would recover from something traumatic.

“Yes, and no matter what, we could always ease his mind by reminding him that Prompto would be here in Insomnia. He missed your boy dearly,”

“Yeah, Prompto was devastated that he wouldn’t be able to see Noctis.”

Regis nudged Cor, an imprint of that playful smirk finally returning to his face. A king indeed, accepting the consequences and moving forward.

“I told you they’d be best friends,”

Cor waved flippantly, watching the two children once more as they sat, Prompto listening intently while Noctis told him about Tenebrae.

“Yeah, yeah, you win this one,”

Cor knew that he would need to talk to Prompto later. He would need to reassure him about the Empire’s ever looming presence, his safety in Lucis, and that when he was old enough, Cor himself would oversee his training. It was expected of the Marshal’s son, after all.

In time, he would really need to talk to Prompto about the Empire, but he was still so young, and Cor could admit to himself that he wasn’t ready to have that conversation.

----------

“Hey, Dad, can I ask you something?”

Astrals, Cor hoped this wasn’t about some schoolyard crush, or anything like that. Prompto may have been fifteen, sitting at the table in his school uniform, but Cor still felt like it was only the other week that he brought Prompto home as a baby.

Cor knew that at fifteen his life had been dramatically different, but he figured the whole point of being a parent was to want better for your kid. So Prompto was going to get a good education (with Noctis, of course, because the thought of them not being able to spend as much time as physically possible together was out of the question), and he wasn’t going to go galavanting off into trouble like Cor did.

This whole experience had really hit home what a nightmare teen he had been. Cor knew he had lucked out with Prompto.

Because it seemed he had been right fifteen years ago - the Empire had no interference with the MT children until they were of use. Prompto was a regular teenage boy, no more prone to super strength or bouts of murderous rage than anyone else.

If anything, Prompto was particularly mild-tempered. Sure, he had a cheeky side to him, but he seemed happy to take a backseat in groups and was more likely to become upset than angry about something.

He had his friends, he had his dad, and he had his camera. For Prompto, that seemed more than enough to keep him content.

And that was why Cor was worried he was suddenly going to ask about a classmate, or a crush. He was a teenager now, and Cor wasn’t naive. He had known this day was coming, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

At least Prompto asked him about things. It seemed like such a low standard, to be glad that his child could come to him with questions and problems, but it reassured Cor all the same.

“What is it?”

“So, um...what’s the deal with, y’know...this?”

Cor looked over to see Prompto holding up his right hand, barcode standing out against his wrist like a brand.

Shit, now Cor wished it had been a crush.

He knew they would need to have this talk as well, but Cor wasn’t ready. He hadn’t figured out the gentlest way to tell Prompto about his past.

They had touched on the fact that he was adopted. Cor had told Prompto the same half-truth he told everyone else; that there was no one to take care of him, so Cor decided he would do it.

Prompto had actually taken the news very well, shrugging whenever someone asked and telling them that his dad chose him. It was a nice way to look at it, but the kid had always been a neverending fount of optimism.

But now Prompto was looking at him expectantly, hand still raised. The code hadn’t faded or warped as the kid grew - it just seemed to grow with him. Cor didn’t know what kind of Imperial bullshit that was, but it didn’t sit right.

Well, whether or not Cor wanted to talk about it, Prompto deserved answers. Though he may have still been young, he was old enough to make sense of what he was about to learn.

Cor sat down opposite him, feeling exhausted already.

Where had the last fifteen years gone? Cor felt like he should still be able to cradle Prompto against him, not sit across the young man he was becoming to explain his past.

“Dad? Hey, you still there?” Prompto waved a hand in front of Cor’s face, looking somewhere between wary and amused. He had every right to.

“Yeah, it’s just...it’s a long story, kid. And it’s not a happy one,”

“Oh,”

“So you remember that I adopted you, right?”

Prompto snorted a little, looking slightly more relaxed.

“Uh, yeah, Dad, we’ve had that talk. C’mon, you’re not that old!”

The little shit.

“Right, well, I found you when I was doing recon in Niflheim. I’d gone there to get any information I could about the magitek troopers,”

“Wait, so I’m from Niflheim?”

If that was already seeming to distress Prompto, Cor didn’t have a hope in hell of making the rest of this any easier. Being from Niflheim was about to become the least of the poor kid’s concerns.

Cor wished he could make this easier or skip ahead to the part where Prompto would make his peace with it, because damn it, he had not brought this kid here and raised him with his own two hands for the Empire to still be able to upset him.

Prompto didn’t belong to them. They could brand him like property and he would have that forever, but he was never theirs.

Cor had been the one to teach him to walk and talk, he had been the one who Prompto would cry to when he was little and plagued with nightmares, he had given Prompto his name.

Prompto belonged to no one, that was the point. He was his own person, with his own quirks and personality, but the Empire had no claim to him when Cor had been the one to raise him.

Prompto was his kid.

“It’s not as clear as they’re all bad and we’re all good, kid. Some people in Lucis just want to make life hell for others, and some people in Niflheim are just trying to get by,”

“Is that what happened to my parents?”

“You...you kind of…” Shit, this was the hardest conversation yet. Cor should have been better prepared. “You don’t really have parents. When I went to get information, I found out that before they become MTs, they’re people. Clones, who are raised to be...they make them into daemons, and then MTs.”

Prompto paused, a dawning horror spreading across his face.

Cor hated it, he hated all of this, he wondered which sick fuck in the Emperor’s little circle even came up with this.

“What-...Dad…” There were tears starting to well in Prompto’s eyes, and Cor could see his hand now shaking a little. “Dad, what are you saying?”

“I found you in the lab, Prompto. You came from the MT programme.”

Prompto’s head fell into his hands and Cor heard him swear softly under his breath. Normally he would get on Prompto’s back about his language, but he figured this was a special case.

“Is...is that why no one can see it? Because then they’ll know?”

“No one’s gonna know what it means, but they’ll ask questions,”

“Does anyone else know?”

Prompto’s voice became more quiet and unsure with every question and it broke Cor’s heart. The kid was usually full of vibrant energy.

“Regis and Clarus know.”

“Are they...what did they do? When you told them?”

“They helped me set up your nursery,”

Prompto looked up then, giving Cor a watery smile. A few of the tears in his eyes had started to fall down his face and Cor could just imagine how overwhelmed he had to feel.

“Did you ever think I would just...turn on you one day, Dad?”

Cor didn’t even have to think.

“Never. Listen to me, Prompto. You’re not a machine or whatever the Empire wanted you to be, you’re just a normal kid, and you can do whatever you want,”

Prompto shook his head, the smile falling from his face.

“I’m a kid that just happened to be in the right place at the right time. If you hadn’t found me, I...I’d be one of them,”

What could Cor even say to that? Prompto was right - if Cor hadn’t run into that particular room, he never would have brought Prompto back to Lucis.

“They’d make me into a daemon, Dad. What about all the other kids? Why didn’t anyone go back and get them?!”

Prompto was standing now, the tears flowing freely as he gave Cor a desperate look. Prompto was going to have so many questions that Cor just didn’t have the answers to. There was no magic word that would make all this feel better.

Cor stood with him, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Prompto, it isn’t easy. Those labs are more heavily guarded than anywhere else in the Empire, I barely made it out with you. There was no way we could have gone back,”

It wasn’t the answer Prompto wanted, even if it was the truth. He just looked dejected.

He stood there silently for a while, staring out at nothing in particular before he spoke again.

“So I can never tell Noct, can I? Or any of the others?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,”

“He’s meant to be my best friend. He doesn’t even know what I am,”

“Hey, look at me,”

Prompto did look, with those same lilac eyes that had once looked up to Cor when he had been just a baby. He had grown into them now, but his face still betrayed how young he was.

“He knows exactly what you are. You’re Prompto, that’s it. I admit, you had a pretty rough start to your life, but that’s not decided who you are. You’re a good kid, always have been,”

“I was meant to be an MT,”

“But you’re not one, you’re my son.”

That seemed to placate Prompto enough and he gave another watery smile, still unsure but at least it was there.

This wasn’t the end of this. Prompto would still have to come to terms with where he came from and make these realisations on his own, without Cor having to tell him. All Cor could do as his father was stand with him and support him. And give him a hug, because Prompto was already hugging him and it always made him feel better.

Yeah, this parenting thing was still a lot, but Cor thought that maybe he had a handle on it now.

“Thanks, Dad,”

Cor just ruffled Prompto’s hair before he went to go sit down again. That had been a pretty intense conversation.

“Do you really mean it? I can do whatever I want?”

“Within reason, sure,”

“Can I not do drills with Gladio anymore?”

“Nice try, kid.”

Even if Prompto seemed to get his humour back a little, it was still a quiet week for him. If anyone asked, Cor just said he was having a rough time and left it at that. Prompto would come back around, in his own time, but that was one hell of a bombshell he had dropped on him.

When he did start to perk up again, it was with a new kind of feeling. No more secrets now; Prompto knew everything.

What he did with it was up to him.

----------

“What do you make of this marriage plan, Regis?”

“I couldn’t ask for someone better for Noctis. Lunafreya is a kind young woman, with a good head on her shoulders. They were joined at the hip when we were in Tenebrae,”

“Let me rephrase - how do you feel about Noctis being old enough to get married?”

“Oh, that,” Regis sighed, settling back into his chair. “That part I’m less pleased about. When did we get so old?”

“Speak for yourself,” Cor snorted, smirking a little at the other two. He didn’t have much room to talk, since Prompto and Noctis were the same age, but the opportunities for him to get one over on Regis were so few and far between that Cor had to take them when they arose.

“Ah yes, make fun of us old souls, Cor. It’ll come for you one day,”

“What do you mean?”

“One of these days Prompto will bring someone home and before you know it, you’ll be helping him plan his own wedding,”

“But right now we’re talking about your son,”

Cor had his suspicions about this wedding. He hoped it would go well, of course, but a sudden offer of peace from Niflheim just felt out of character for them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else happening.

And Regis wasn’t an idiot, he must have been able to sense it too. But his hands were tied; should they not go through with it, the Empire could say Lucis had spurned their attempts at peace. Right now, they had to play into Niflheim’s hand and just try to stay one step ahead.

Besides, Regis was right - there were much worse people out there than Lady Lunafreya. The prince would be happy with her, Cor was certain.

“You think it’s genuine?”

“Does anyone?” Clarus replied from his own seat, face suddenly more serious. No doubt he was on edge as well, with such a threat to Regis’ safety soon to arrive on their doorstep.

“At least the boys will be out of the city. Whatever happens, they should get to enjoy their time on the road first,”

“Reminiscing now, old friend?”

“I just hope Prompto doesn’t give Noctis the same grief Cor gave me,”

“I seem to recall you found it charming,” Cor retaliated, knowing none of the others would come to his defence. Maybe he was a little shit back then, but they didn’t need to know he thought that. “Besides, Prompto’s a good kid,”

“He is, and to think you were so worried when you first brought him back, now you have a fine young man.”

And Cor did. He knew he’d been lucky with Prompto - he was far more interested in staying up late playing video games than sneaking out to parties and had generally always been a well behaved - if a little cheeky - kid.

And he took pride in his training - maybe he wasn’t so great when it came to swords, but he was a deadshot and had taken to fighting with guns like it was second nature.

Perhaps it was, but Cor didn’t dwell on that too much. Prompto was too damn proud of himself to take that away. He’d worked hard; he should be proud.

Cor was proud of him.

To think this tiny thing alone in a Niff lab had grown up into the spirited, caring young man Cor called his son. Truth be told, he was somewhat proud of himself, since he had actually managed to raise Prompto.

“We should prepare, for when the Emperor and his retinue arrive,”

“What can be done? No doubt the Empire has more than one trick up their sleeve, we can only be ready for them,”

“Well then, here’s hoping fate will be in our favour,” Clarus raised a glass, nodding slightly as the others did the same. He was a smart man - even he knew that no matter how trained those around the King were, they would need some kind of divine intervention should an attack start from inside the Wall.

“And here’s hoping those boys make some fine memories on their trip, just as we did.”

Cor could drink to that, at least. He wasn’t happy at all about having anyone so influential in the Empire within the city, but at least he knew that they would be absolutely nowhere near his son. Prompto could enjoy exploring the world, and Cor could focus on keeping Regis safe.

----------

Twenty years had passed since Cor had stumbled into Insomnia one night with Imperial reports in one hand and a baby in the other. He was starting to feel them, even though he was far from ready to throw in the towel.

What he had to show for the last twenty years of work was leaning against the Regalia, watching as Ignis and Gladiolus berated Prince Noctis for his dismissive farewell to his father and King.

Prompto looked back to Cor with a slightly smug grin.

“Aren’t you lucky you got a nice, caring son who actually wants to say goodbye?”

“I did? Where is he?”

“Dad!”

Prompto was laughing, even if he tried to put his best shocked expression on.

Twenty years of restless nights, constant teaching, countless parent’s evenings and slogging through homework Cor absolutely did not remember having to do had resulted in one Prompto Leonis, royal retainer and childhood friend to Prince Noctis. Some of the Crownsguard even whispered amongst themselves that Prompto was being trained up to one day take Cor’s place.

That was entirely down to Prompto. He was a good soldier, but perhaps not quite Marshal material. Then again, had Cor been at his age?

Not to mention his love of photography had never faded.

The house that Cor once only viewed as a place to eat and sleep was full of pictures - milestones of Prompto’s life, various pictures of the two of them he insisted on taking, and some artfully taken shots of the Insomnia skyline.

Should he wish to pursue that, then good on him for knowing what he wanted.

Cor got out of the car, ready to hand the keys over to Ignis once they were ready.

“Come on, you know it’s coming,” Prompto was still grinning, holding his arms out. Cor wasn’t one for physical affection, but Prompto had turned out to be the exact opposite. Clarus once joked that it was because he spent so much of his early life on Cor’s hip.

Prompto also seemed to have a knack for getting his own way, and it would be a while before Cor would see his son again, so he conceded and wrapped his own arms around Prompto, giving his son the parting hug he wanted.

“Remember your training out there,”

“I will, Dad,”

“You’ll be representing Lucis,”

“I know, Dad,”

“You keep yourself safe,”

“Got it,”

Cor pulled back after giving Prompto a pat on the back, but kept one hand on his arm.

“And have fun. You’ll get to take a lot of pictures,”

Prompto beamed, rocking slightly on his heels.

“I know! I’ll show you all of them when we get back! You stay safe too, Dad,”

Prompto smiled and Cor wondered, not for the first time, where the years had gone. Prompto was an adult now, ready to venture out into the world. Cor wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for that himself.

“And try to not miss me too much!”

Prompto shouted out the window after everyone got into the car, waving to Cor one last time before Ignis drove off.

An adult, perhaps, but he was still a little shit.

Maybe Regis had been right the whole time, and Prompto took after Cor more than he thought.