Work Text:
The Consort
The Lady Lunafreya was…wow.
So pretty—and of course she’d be pretty, everyone always said she was, but it was different when it was in person. All that pretty pointed directly at you, and then she’d smile.
Woah.
And well, Prompto knew he wasn’t the best at judging character—he’d almost wanted to give Ardyn a second chance, after all—but he couldn’t imagine the Lady being anything but good. She was nice, and not just in the way that nobles were when they fancied themselves benevolent, or in the general sense of hospital orderlies. She talked to people, really talked to them, and listened, and remembered. Gave the old man who tended the roses blueberries for his birthday, because they were his favorite. Had hot tea waiting for the heavily pregnant woman who took notes during her speeches, tried to convince her to stay off her feet.
Printed off documents in braille for Ignis, without even being reminded, right from the start. Laughed with Gladio about what Iris had been up to, asked questions so she must’ve been really interested. Found out Prompto was getting low on developer (and who knew how she had she found that out, he hadn’t told anyone, not even Noct) and sent him up a whole rack of bottles, right to his rooms, even though the castle had its own official darkrooms that Prompto had been planning to nick—uh, borrow—the stuff from. Touched calm fingers to Noctis’ temple when they got that wild look around their eyes that meant they were getting overwhelmed, which Prompto had never seen anyone but himself or Ignis or Gladio notice.
Lady Lunafreya loved Noctis. She loved them, and they loved her, and it made Prompto’s heart sing to look at them together, right where they should be. He was happy for Noctis, and happy for the Lady, too, which he hadn’t anticipated feeling so personally.
And he was horrible, the absolute worst, for being just the slightest bit sad as well.
Prompto figured he’d mope around for a while, let himself have some nice long cries, maybe gaze at the photos he had of Noctis and set about committing to memory how their mouth tasted, how their fingers felt. He’d settle himself in no less than a month after they’d wed and return cheerful and hilarious as ever, but with hints of a deep underlying sadness that let him be wistfully wise when asked about it and added approximately 1000 points to his attractiveness level.
He’d go down in history as the Chosen King’s best friend—or, one of them, Prompto still wasn’t sure that he counted all by himself, despite what Noct told him—and history would never know their full truth. Maybe some scholar in a hundred years would have a theory and shed a tear at the tragedy. Poor scholar. Prompto would be fine, and he’d be happy, and so would everyone else.
The problem was—well it felt wrong to call it a problem, because Lady Lunafreya could never be a problem, except maybe to bad guys, and even then he kind of figured she’d be polite about it— that Noctis’ beloved queen-to-be wouldn’t let Prompto sequester himself in his room and sigh longingly. She kept inviting him places. Mostly with her and Noctis, but sometimes with just her. And Prompto had fun, even if it was just a walk around the walls, because the Lady was sweet and witty and altogether very good company.
It felt like a grand adventure, because this was the Oracle, and the almost-queen, and here she was talking with him. And it felt frighteningly comfortable. Prompto had caught himself nudging her shoulder conspiratorially as they passed a man having a fight with the enormous feather on his hat, and even he knew that that was bad form, but the Lady hadn’t minded at all. She’d nudged him back.
The two of them spending time together worried Ignis and Gladio to no end. They kept accosting Prompto at random times and filling his ears with protocol and warnings that he couldn’t possibly remember all at once. Especially since he seemed to lose his head around the Lady. She wrinkled her nose at his terrible puns and she looped her arm through his and she smelled like flowers, even better than her letter had. Prompto found himself doing things like sticking his hands in his boots and pretending they were puppets, just to make her laugh. Or jumping up to go get her a snack when she mentioned she was hungry (even though they had servants, which was so weird to be on the receiving end of and Prompto had thanked them all so many times they were probably making fun of him).
Even with all that, Prompto could almost have forgotten that he was doomed to return to a life of lonesomeness and heartache if Lady Lunafreya wouldn’t, with increasing frequency as the date grew nearer, keep asking him things about the wedding.
Things like his opinion, which didn’t make sense because he was? Nobody? He didn’t know anything about tablecloth embroidery or silverware or whether Altissian wine was better than the vintages from around Caem (he hadn’t had either, he’d told the Lady, and she’d started to order him both before he’d managed with some very large hand gestures to stop her. The last thing he needed was to be drunk in front of her.).
He could say whether Noct liked the beach or the mountains better (didn’t matter, as long as they could sleep enough), but surely the Lady could’ve asked Noctis on her own? It was kind of embarrassing to hear about your best friend and king’s honeymoon, wasn’t it? Especially when Prompto had a particularly, ah, intimate knowledge of what exactly would be happening then. Not that the Lady knew that! He hoped. She was very smart.
In any case it hurt, to think about, and so for the past few days Prompto had been hiding from her. He’d started out in his rooms (rooms, plural! like he was someone special!) and when he’d gotten too antsy had started sneaking out when he knew the Lady was off doing her Oracle duties or her royal ones. To make extra sure, he had taken to going the long way around whenever possible, and as a result Prompto had found many odd and interesting parts of the palace that he wouldn’t have seen otherwise. Not that he would’ve seen any of the palace at all if Noct hadn’t let him tag along for that ill-fated road trip, and that thought was always present and always panic-inducing.
Today he’d found a library, which was great, because today was one of the days that he felt like he was going to cry. Libraries were quiet, and nobody bothered you unless you bothered them, and if they were small, like this one was, then you might even be able to be alone.
Prompto crept across the floor, peering between the shelves, and saw no one. Perfect.
He skipped past the books that looked political and boring and made for the flashes of color he saw near the back. Children’s books he saw, and selected one at random. It was a fairytale he’d known growing up, except that he’d never been read to from a book with real gold lining the illustrations like this one. Sometimes Prompto wondered how kingdoms had any money at all when royalty kept buying things like this.
There was a window over to his right, with a deep red cushion set into the sill and a collection of overstuffed pillows arranged artfully across it. Prompto took the book and sat down on it, trying to disturb as few of the pillows as possible, and crossed his legs to read.
“There you are,” said a familiar voice.
Prompto yelped and scrambled backwards, upsetting the book and knocking several pillows onto the floor. “Hey there, Ladyship!” he squeaked. Wasn’t she supposed to be with Gentiana now? Um. He could probably play his fear off as just being surprised, but something in the Lady’s face told him he wouldn’t get away with it.
“I haven’t been able to find you, lately,” Lady Lunafreya said, moving closer. Prompto took a good grip on his knees and forced himself to breathe, to stop trembling. Nope, he hadn’t been avoiding anybody, he’d just been minding his own business. Nothing to get suspicious about.
“I wanted to talk to you about the guard, for the honeymoon,” the Lady said, settling herself on the edge of the cushion. Her hair was the slightest bit mussed, like she’d been outside and tried to pat it back down. It looked soft, falling against her face, and Prompto had to duck his head.
“What—what about it?” Prompto asked. His voice was still higher than usual, so he coughed into his fist and then thumped it a few times on his chest. “What can I do?”
“I was wondering if you thought we should have a guard inside the room, as well as the ones without. It isn’t customary, but considering the circumstances of Noct’s ascension…well. Which would you be more comfortable with?”
“Um,” Prompto said, and twisted his fingers in the fabric of his pants to distract himself from blushing. Lady Lunafreya was always frank about this…kind of thing with him, which was not at all good for his heart. “I…don’t know? Wouldn’t…what does Noct think?”
Lady Lunafreya laughed and moved closer. “They wanted to ask you.”
Why him and not Gladio? “Uh, I mean…Noct has all those swords and wouldn’t a guard inside be…embarrassing?”
“That’s what I thought, but we wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it,” said the Lady, and tapped a finger against Prompto’s knee. Prompto felt his face flush darker and folded his hands in his lap before he was tempted to return the gesture, or worse, catch the Lady’s rising hand.
“Prompto? Is something wrong?”
“No,” Prompto said automatically, meeting her eyes to prove it. He hunched his shoulders at the concern on her face, suddenly guilty. “Yes? I…why do you keep asking me about these things? It’s not like I’m going to be there.”
He’d asked Noctis if he could take the time off, during the honeymoon (“Of course,” Noctis had said; they had looked confused that Prompto had even thought to ask. “Did you think I was going to make you guard me for that? Prom.”).
“Not going to…Prompto,” Lady Lunafreya said, and her finger returned to his knee. “What exactly did Noct tell you about our honeymoon?”
“Nothing really? I, ah, don’t really…it’s kind of your guys’ thing, isn’t it? Married? King and Queen?” He wanted to look away again, but the Lady’s eyes had him, and he couldn’t.
The spot between her brows furrowed. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, I am going to have a talk with Noctis.”
“No!” Prompto leaned forward, clapping his hands over hers. “I mean, it’s not like I was asking them!” Oh Gods, if he’d gotten Noct in trouble…!
“Don’t worry,” the Lady said, and smiled. It looked like one of her real ones. “I won’t scold them. Much. But I do have to ask them,” and she took her other hand and brushed it lightly under Prompto’s chin, “why they didn’t make it completely clear that you’re coming with us?”
What?
“Only if you want to. But I was given to believe that you and Noct were no strangers to this sort of thing?”
Prompto’s brain grated back to life, oh shit she knows warring against wow her fingers are cold and what exactly going on? He continued to gape at Lady Lunafreya until she shook her head in a way that looked positively indulgent and closed his mouth for him.
“Don’t let the flies in,” she said, still smiling, and left her hand where it was now curled around his jaw. Prompto found himself leaning into the touch without thinking about it. Her hand was soft, same as it had been when he’d kissed it upon meeting her, same as the silk sheets that they’d put on his bed here like he was important and hadn’t been sleeping on bedrolls and stony ground for the past decade.
Prompto hadn’t even known the sheets were silk. Gladio had had to tell him, laughing at him when he’d shown up after the first night talking about how the sheets were so smooth.
What exactly was Lady Lunafreya telling him?
“Prompto,” she was saying; her thumb was stroking back and forth against his cheek, trying to soothe him. “Dear Prompto. I’ve always known. I think I may have known even before you two did. I’d always assumed you’d be coming along. What, did you think you were bedding Noct under my nose, and you’d continue on that way?”
“Didn’t think I’d be bedding them all, anymore,” Prompto managed. Dear Prompto had joined the flurry of thoughts swirling around his head, and he focused on it, because it made him feel warm and not like he was about to start screaming.
“Oh, you’re sweet!” Lady Lunafreya said. “But no, no I don’t think either of you would be happy that way. I know I certainly wouldn’t. Noct loves you, and I can see very well that you love them.”
Prompto blinked and realized he was crying. He moved to wipe at his face and found that his hands were still on top of the Lady’s on his knee when she turned her wrist to hold him fast. With impossible gentleness she lifted her knuckles and swept them under his eyes, again and again, catching the tears and brushing them away. Prompto let himself shudder, once, twice, three times, and when he could trust himself not to sob let out the rest of his breath in a gasp.
“All I want is for the two of you to be happy,” Lady Lunafreya said. Her voice was almost a whisper. “And I know that that means together. I love Noct, and I’ve come to care about you quite a lot.”
“Ladyship,” Prompto croaked, because that was too much and he couldn’t stand it, couldn’t have her caring this much about him. His nose was getting plugged and he knew he was a mess, but she just kept wiping away his tears, cupping his face like something precious.
“Lunafreya,” the Lady said firmly. “Or Luna. You don’t call Noct ‘Majesty’ but rarely, and I prefer the same with my friends. I hope we are friends?”
“Yes, yes of course, absolutely,” Prompto said, and closed his eyes around a fresh burst of tears. His chest felt like it was vibrating, sparking sharp joy all through to his belly and throat.
He got to keep Noct. He got to keep them. And Lady—and Luna knew, and she approved. And she was his friend. And he got to keep Noct.
“Come here,” Luna said, and Prompto felt himself being gathered up. Luna guided his head to her shoulder and let him cry into her dress. His arm was squashed at an awkward angle between them, going numb, but Prompto didn’t mind if Luna didn’t.
“Sorry,” he said when he’d calmed down enough to speak. Luna took a breath, and Prompto hurried to continue before she could say he didn’t have anything to be sorry for. “Thank you. It was difficult, you know?”
“I do,” said Luna. Her grip tightened on Prompto. She’d had her own share of thinking she’d never be with, or even see, Noctis again, Prompto remembered. Slowly, because it felt like he shouldn’t be allowed, he reached up to rest a comforting hand on Luna’s arm.
“Can I kiss you?” he said, because boundaries were important.
Luna pulled away from him slightly, her eyes going wide. Prompto frowned, confused, and then turned red and buried his face back in her shoulder. “On the cheek!” he said, muffled by the fabric. “I meant—because—to help you feel better, and you’re really nice, and—”
“It’s all right,” Luna said. She sounded amused, and Prompto tilted his head enough to glare at her. Oh, except he probably shouldn’t have done that to the Oracle. But maybe he was allowed, now? This was very complicated.
“I wouldn’t have minded the other kind,” Luna said. Prompto jerked back and saw that Luna was blushing as well. She tried to lift a fist to cover her mouth but Prompto was too close and she smacked him in the chin. Hard.
“Ow!”
“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry! I didn’t—do you need ice? You should have ice, I’ll have some sent up—“
“No, no it’s all right, I’m all right!” Prompto grinned, and then winced, because damn Luna had a good punch for someone whose job was mostly non-physical. It sent Luna fluttering all over again and it took Prompto several fumbling moments (“You’re good! I’ve had much worse!” “I know!” “I mean, my job it—things happen!” “They do!”) to convince her that he was, in fact, fine.
“Aren’t we a sight,” Luna said. Prompto tried not to snort (he did, Ignis) and touched his definitely blotchy face and his probably red jaw, using his other hand to pat his vest for a tissue to blow his snotty nose. Luna looked pink and sheepish and wonderful, and he told her so.
“Oh!” Luna said, and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again they were bright. “I can see why Noctis likes you, you flatterer.”
“Isn’t flattery if it’s true,” Prompto said, and poked her in the cheek, like he would to Noctis. Then his brain caught up with him and he yanked his hand away. “Uh, was that all right?”
Luna rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m not that easily breakable.” She took a deep breath. “Actually, what I said earlier…may I?”
Oh! “Yes, I…yes, very much, thank you! Please, I mean. Yes please? I mean if Noctis is okay with it. I’m very okay with it.”
Luna wet her lips, and Prompto tried to be a gentleman and not stare. “Noct’s actually been asking me for weeks if I want to do anything about the crush you have on me, and assuring me that I can,” she said. “So I have it on rather good authority that they will be pleased.”
Prompto did not shriek, but he did have to clench his teeth to stifle a small scream. “They…how could…I can’t believe they told you. They’re never getting my dick again.” Luna doubled over in helpless giggles, and Prompto gasped, horrified. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean to say that in front of you, I’m so sorry—“
“I’d rather hope we’re past that point,” Luna said, breathless. “Considering the fact I came in here to ask about the honeymoon you’re going to be a part of.” She hiccuped once, loudly. Prompto was delighted.
“There you are,” Luna said, reaching up to thumb at the corner of Prompto’s mouth. “Feeling better?”
“Definitely, so much,” Prompto said, and then Luna was leaning up Luna was leaning up and—oh—soft—
“There you go!” Luna said, drawing back. “Verdict?”
Prompto scratched the side of his neck, biting at his lip to keep the bubbly feeling rising inside him from boiling over. “Run that by me again?”
“You’re terrible,” Luna said, and wrapped her arm around his neck to comply.
When Noctis came out of the meeting with the Minister of—actually, Prompto wasn’t sure, Agriculture maybe? He knew the woman’s guards, schedule, weapons prowess, and the name of her cat (Snowboots) but not what her actual job was— they were frowning. Luna reached out automatically for their temple and Noctis sighed in relief. “Thank you,” they said, with feeling. “She always has so many questions.”
“Aren’t questions good? It means she’s doing her job,” Prompto said. Noctis flipped him off and nuzzled further into Luna’s hand. And stilled, their brows drawing together again.
“Yes, dear?” Luna asked sweetly.
Noctis pointed at Prompto’s arm, which was around her waist.
“Was wondering when you’d notice that,” Prompto said.
Noctis’ face lit up. “You finally?”
“Luna, actually. Because you told her I liked her. You’re never getting this dick again,” Prompto said, and tilted his head into Luna’s to laugh at the look of extreme distress that crossed Noctis’ face.
“You really didn’t know we were taking you?” Noctis said, later, when they and Prompto were curled up on their couch in front of their fireplace; no fire, now that the palace had the sun during the day to warm its stones. Luna was not permitted in Noctis’ chambers this late at night, which was incredibly old-fashioned and also pointless, given the fact that Prompto had once run into a flustered Ignis walking as fast as he could away from the King’s bath in the middle of the day and answering all questions about where Noctis or Luna were with a clipped, expressive “Hmmm!”
Prompto shrugged, careful not to let the motion jostle Noctis’s head from its place on Prompto’s thigh. “I figured I’d just stop, you know? I’m a little in the way.”
“No you’re not,” Noctis said. They sounded angry. Prompto lifted his hand from where it was stroking Noctis’s hair and looked down at them, curious. Noctis whined, and Prompto resumed stroking, muttering under his breath about kings who never gave anybody a break until Noctis punched him in the shin.
“You’re not,” Noctis repeated after a time. They were half to sleep now, and Prompto would have to make them get up and stumble to bed before they became impossible to move. “I don’t see why you’d ever think you were. You’re the only thing that makes me happy, some days. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“Without Ignis and Gladio and Luna, more like,” Prompto said. He swallowed to try to ease the lump in his throat. “And yourself. You’re amazing, Noct.”
“Mmm,” Noctis said. “You too, though. And you’re…” They flexed their hand in front of their face, flicking the fingers outward and trailing them away to hook under the cuff of Prompto’s pants. “Sparkly.”
“Sparkly?”
“Like you always try to make people feel better, or make a joke. And you’re always bouncing around. And your freckles. And sometimes when you look at me I feel…” Noctis dropped their hand to the floor, pressing it flat against the rug. “I want to be everything people need me to be. Everything you think I am. You make me feel I can, sometimes.”
Prompto bent to press a kiss into Noctis’ hair, because he had to, after that. Noctis turned their head to catch his mouth, and that continued for a good while.
“Up you get, Noct,” Prompto said, when Noctis started yawning between kisses. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow of being boring.”
“Can’t I just stay here?”
“Your neck won’t thank you. You’re o-l-d now, Noct, you keep forgetting.” Prompto grabbed hold of Noctis’ shoulder and shoved until Noctis rolled off his lap and onto the floor, groaning the whole way down.
“Come on now.” Prompto leaned down and threw one of Noctis’ arms around his shoulders—Noctis wasn’t helping at all—and braced his knees to lift them. Noctis hung like a sack of potatoes until Prompto had nearly stood up, and then swept a leg under Prompto’s and tackled him back onto the couch.
“Wait! Noct! Breathing!” Prompto kicked and wiggled until he’d found a position where Noctis wasn’t elbowing him in the lungs or throat and then relaxed into the cushions, sweeping a hand down Noctis’ back. Noctis made a small noise of contentment and snuggled further into Prompto, going boneless and letting him take their entire weight.
Prompto thumped his head against the arm rest. “This isn’t getting ready for bed.”
Noctis grunted.
“I know, but you really will feel better in the morning.”
Grunt.
“You’re even still in your clothes, you know you want to put on a t-shirt.”
Grunt.
“And if you don’t take your medication Ignis is going to murder me—“
“Ugh, fine,” Noctis said, and levered themselves up. “But I’m holding you accountable for making me leave warmth and comfort.”
“Your bed’s a lot more warm and comfortable!” Prompto called after Noctis’ retreating back. Noctis waved a dismissive hand and slumped into the bathroom. After a moment Prompto heard the sound of running water.
He looked up at the ceiling, tracing the intricate, gilded swirls. Since they’d arrived at the palace he’d been trying, with varying success, to make a habit of leaving for his own rooms for the night. He had been wanting to make the final separation easier when it came. But now that he knew there wasn’t going to be a separation, that he was going to stay with Noctis, and Luna, and be a part of what the had—
“Hey, Noct? Can I stay the night?”
“Sure.” Noctis sounded like they had toothpaste in their mouth. “You’ve never asked before, you know you don’t have to, what’s up?”
“Nothing, just checking!” Prompto drew his knees up to his chest and turned onto his side, smiling against the upholstery. “You know, this couch is pretty comfortable…”
“Fuck off, if I have to get up to go to bed, you do too,” Noctis said. “You know where my shirts are, go get one to sleep in and I’ll be out in a sec.”
“Don’t drown,” Prompto said. He waited for Noctis to mutter something that sounded like an insult and then stood. By the time Noctis had finished washing up Prompto was dressed in one of their t-shirts and a pair of their sweatpants. He threw another t-shirt at Noctis’ head as they exited the bathroom.
“Thanks.” Noctis unbuttoned their shirt and shrugged out of it right there in the middle of the floor, stepping out of their pants beside it. Prompto shook his head and wadded up the clothes to throw them in the hamper just inside the bathroom door, closing the door with his foot behind him.
Noctis was dozing when Prompto lifted the covers to slide in beside them, but they roused enough to flop an arm over him and pull him close. “Love you,” they murmured, laying a sloppy kiss on Prompto’s neck. “G’night.”
“Love you too,” Prompto replied. He stuck his cold nose in Noctis’ hair to warm it and tangled their ankles together, his socks sliding against the bedsheets.
Silk sheets. Noctis’ arms. Prompto got to have this, and not just for the time being. Noctis’ kisses, that still made his heart beat fast, even after all this time. Luna’s now, too, new and shining with possibility.
The King and Queen and me, Prompto thought as he drifted off. Who would’ve thought, all those years ago?