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Noctis was ten months old when he took his very first steps.
Regis remembered it very clearly; it was one of the very rare days when he had been able to take a break from his royal duties, and could spend some quality time with his only child completely undisturbed.
Regis had taken the opportunity to play games with him in his son’s room. He had learnt from the wet nurse that Noctis was especially fond of clapping his tiny hands together and enjoyed Pat-A-Cake Pat-A-Cake, even though he couldn’t sing the lyrics yet and could merely babble along to the tune (though Regis would argue that his son was a damn good babbler).
However, on that day Noctis seemed particularly keen on playing with his toy cars – rolling them back and forth over and over again, though his face fell each time the momentum of the car rolled it just out of the reach of his chubby little arms. Regis, therefore, saw it fit to lay sprawled out on his stomach on the plush carpet adjacent to his infant son and push the cars back to him while narrating tales of the adventures of the drivers (and perhaps indulging in the odd use of magic to further the wonder of the stories) to spark his imagination, since according to all the baby books he had read Noctis should be starting to understand what people were saying to him by now.
“And so, they all lived happily ever after,” Regis concluded the tale with a small flurry of shimmering blue crystals. Noctis’ rosy cheeks lit up in glee in response (though whether this was because he enjoyed the story itself or simply the ‘special effects’ was unknown) as he enthusiastically clapped his hands and giggled. Regis couldn’t help but admire how absolutely adorable his little boy was as he leaned down to kiss his head right on top of his soft ebony locks.
This tender moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. He sighed deeply as he pushed himself up off the floor and onto his knees. Just what part of ‘Don’t disturb me unless the world is on fire’ did people not understand? Yes, he was king, but he was still a father and he had been absent for most of his son’s childhood; it seemed as though Noctis was growing bigger every time his father was able to see him and Regis was constantly afraid that he’d miss yet another one of his developmental milestones if he so much as turned his back on him even for a moment. He loved being king and he loved being a father, but sometimes it was so difficult to balance the two. Maybe once he’d been at it for longer he’d get better at it. “Just wait one moment, Noct. I’ll be right back,” he promised, sliding one of the toys in front of him to help keep the infant occupied while he dealt with his business.
Regis stood up to his full height as he answered the call, walking over to the large window so as to not disturb Noctis should the conversation become heated – as they were often prone to be, especially when his precious fatherhood time was being cut short. “Yes, what is it?” he spoke into the receiver, immediately wincing when he realised how harsh his tone had sounded. It wasn’t as though it was their fault if the presence of the king was so urgently needed, they were simply the messenger.
“Your Majesty, I apologise. I know you said not to disturb you, but it’s a matter of great urgency!”
“What has happened?!” Did something happen in Insomnia? Did Niflheim claim yet another territory? Were the Niflheim forces right at their doorstep at this very moment?!
“The new drapes that we had ordered came in charcoal grey, not black as we had ordered!”
… What?
“And the dinner with the governors from the Lucian territories will be starting in a few hours, and there’s simply not enough time to get the correct delivery. What should we do, Your Majesty?”
Now Regis liked to think of himself as a patient man. He was never one to be quick to rise to anger, or to make hasty assumptions. He was a firm believer in walking around in the other person’s shoes in order to understand their perspective on the situation. But this – this was just ridiculous! He was finally able to spend time with his only child and he was being interrupted for something as trivial as this?! Well, he wasn’t going to stand for it. Not today. He was just about ready to tell the servant where he could shove those damn drapes when he suddenly felt something collide softly with his heel. He looked down to see a black toy car at his feet before he looked across quizzically to where Noctis was sitting.
Or rather where Noctis used to be sitting. The infant had seemingly taken the initiative to retrieve his toy, and was slowly but surely pushing himself up from the ground and was gently easing his weight onto his tiny feet. His son was standing. All by himself. Regis could scarcely believe his own eyes. Noctis was about to take his first steps. “Good boy,” he said, the phone in his hand all but forgotten, as he crouched down and extended his arms out towards the child. “Now come to Daddy. Come on, you can do it.” he encouraged.
Noctis’ expression became determined as he shakily extended his right leg forward before cautiously allowing his weight to rest on it. He paused, giving himself time to regain his balance. His very first step. Regis was the happiest man alive, he couldn’t be more proud of his son. “Good boy, Noct. You’re almost there,” he continued as he shuffled closer towards the child, ready to catch him should he fall.
At this, Noctis seemed to regain his confidence and looked up to smile warmly at his father. Slowly, he swung his left leg forward and planted it firmly on the carpet before he attempted again with other leg. Unfortunately, that was all his little legs could manage before giving out, but his father swooped in to pick him up just before he hit the ground and lifted him high up into the air. “Well done, Noct, I’m so proud of you! You’re such a good boy!” he said excitedly as he cradled him close to his chest and kissed his scalp, causing Noctis to burst into a fit of adorable giggles.
Regis would cherish that memory forever.
The second time Noctis took his ‘first steps’ he was eight years old.
His leg muscles were left severely weakened after surviving the daemon attack, and he had been brought to Tenebrae to recuperate. On that day Lunafreya had suggested to go out to pick flowers together, to which Noctis had agreed enthusiastically. He adored Luna immensely; she was always so kind and gentle to him, and never treated him with pity due to his current wheelchair-bound state as others tended to do.
(And he thought that she was rather pretty too if he were to be completely honest. But he tried not to dwell on that thought too much or else his face would become remarkably red and his father would tease him mercilessly about it.)
“The sylleblossoms should be in full bloom by this time of year,” she informed him as she pushed his wheelchair through the meadows, which stretched on and on as far as the eye could see. “They’re very beautiful.”
The pair continued through the rolling landscape until they arrived at their destination, a large field filled with the dainty indigo flowers just as the princess had promised. “Aren’t they lovely?” she remarked aloud. Noctis nodded in reply; the sylleblossoms weren’t just pretty to look at, they also radiated a calming warmth which had a nice soothing effect on Noctis’ spirits – kind of like Luna now that he thought about it.
“Would you like some help in getting out of your wheelchair, Prince Noctis?” she beamed down at him. “It would be much easier to pick flowers if you are level with the ground.”
“Sure… That is if it’s not too much trouble for you,” he mumbled while averting his eyes from her kind gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious about his disability.
Luna merely smiled sweetly at him. “Not at all,” she answered as she hooked her arms underneath his armpits and hoisted him up into a standing position, and gently lowered him onto the soft grass before sitting down next to the young prince. “Let’s make flower crowns today!” she suggested.
“Okay, but I don’t really know how to,” he said as he settled himself more comfortably.
“That’s all right, I can teach you. It’s very easy once you get the hang of it,” she assured him.
And so the young royals spent the afternoon exploring the art of flower crown weaving together. However, despite Luna’s best efforts Noctis was experiencing tremendous difficulty in maintaining the structural integrity of his crown – it always seemed to come loose somewhere in the middle no matter how many times his fingers attempted to fasten together the stalks. He felt so embarrassed. Luna was truly a wonderful teacher and she was being incredibly patient with him, but regardless of how many demonstrations she showed him his fingers just seemed to be so much clumsier than her own elegant ones. She made it look so effortless (which it probably was when you were as graceful as the Tenebraean princess), but it was next to impossible for him to master the craft.
Perhaps he should just give up, he thought to himself. She probably thought he was stupid for not being able to grasp something as simple as making a flower crown. And then maybe she might not want to be friends with him anymore. Who would want to be friends with an invalid eight-year-old who couldn’t even weave flowers together? Especially someone as amazing as Luna: she was poised, prim and proper – the perfect princess and the polar opposite to Noctis who could barely bring himself to introduce himself to strangers.
Her voice suddenly cut him out of his self-loathing: “Let me show you how you should move your fingers.”
Immediately, she scooted right in front of him and placed her lily-white fingers over his own. She began to manipulate them to move in the correct motions while repeating her explanation. “Make sure you tie the stems together really tightly, like this.”
“Oh… uh… yeah.” The prince’s cheeks blazed a deep red at the intimate contact as he forced himself to concentrate on her movements, desperately trying to ignore her breath on his face, her sweet scent and how soft her hands were. But at least he was finally getting the hold of the process, as his fingers started to fasten the crown together much more deftly than before. “There you go,” said Luna as she sat back on her heels and admired his handiwork. “I told you it would be easy.”
Noctis was almost finished now. He began to ponder to whom should he gift it to.
His father perhaps? No, he was busy today and Noctis had no idea when he’d be back.
He would probably die of embarrassment if he tried giving it to the Queen of Tenebrae, and he was certain that Luna would want to give one of the (five) crowns she’d made to her mother.
Ravus was out of the question as well, since Noctis wasn’t exactly that close with him.
That just left Luna.
Okay, so he’d wanted to give it to her in the first place, but he was way too shy. What if he ended up embarrassing himself in front of her?
“You’ve finished! It turned out really well in the end too!”
“Thank you,” he mumbled, feeling a little shy from the praise. She really was too nice to him.
“I knew you could do it, Noctis,” she said sincerely, bright blue eyes gazing at him fondly. That was Luna’s nature; she would always have faith in him no matter what. She trusted him to keep his promise and to never let her down (regardless of whether it was about saving the world from the Purge, or making crowns of sylleblossoms).
Noctis was now determined. Holding the crown firmly in his hand, he leaned his hands onto the earth before he shakily pushed himself up onto his feet. His legs began to tremble, and Luna immediately moved to support him but quickly realised that the boy needed to try to do this on his own. He needed to try to take his first steps.
His reflexes told him to extend his arms out in an attempt to regain his balance, nearly dropping his prize in the process. He gripped onto it even tighter, crushing some of the sylleblossoms, but he couldn’t dwell on that; he needed to focus. Once his legs stabilised somewhat he slowly extended his right leg forward before cautiously allowing his weight to rest on it. He paused and squeezed his eyes shut, giving himself time to regain his balance whilst he prayed to every god out there that he wouldn’t fall and make a fool of himself in from of Luna. He so desperately wanted to impress her. “You can do it, Noctis,” she spoke to him. Always so sincere. “I believe in you.”
That gave him the confidence he needed. He took a deep breath before he opening his eyes. Slowly, he swung his left leg forward and planted it firmly on the ground before he attempted again with other leg. He had finally reached her.
With the last of his strength Noctis placed the flower crown as gently as he could on top of Luna’s golden head. “This is for you,” he stated with all of his courage, again feeling his face grow hot. Suddenly, he lost his balance and hit the earth with a soft thud before she could catch him.
Hot tears stung his eyes as he looked away from her. Luna probably thought he was so uncool and lame, falling over like that and giving her his poor excuse for a flower crown. His ears pricked up when they heard the sounds of rustling fabric and grass. Oh God, was she going to run away from him because of how utterly awkward he was?
“And this is for you,” he heard her say as he felt something circular being placed on top of his head. His hands immediately reached up to touch it. A flower crown. He looked up to see Luna’s smiling face looking down at him fondly. “Thank you very much, Prince Noctis. I shall always treasure my crown.”
Noctis would cherish that memory forever (though he’d never tell a soul about it).