By being born you—and your mother—gave him the gift of fatherhood. In return for your grueling struggle you earned the gift of being his son.
[ Having witnessed the moment an anxious man met his newborn daughter, Era is under no illusion that such a thing is anything but the greatest of gifts. A brand new life, so painfully fragile and vibrant, cradled in one's arms like an exceptionally large, ruddy potato.
(She can't blame the newborn for looking like that, all things considered.)
The thought of speaking to Regis about the issue at hand is nerve-wracking enough that she finally pulls away from Noct enough to furrow her brows at him. ]
What am I supposed to say to him? "The Echo had me live through your son's most traumatic childhood memories and now I can't help but view you as a father-figure. May I call you 'Dad'?"
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[ Having witnessed the moment an anxious man met his newborn daughter, Era is under no illusion that such a thing is anything but the greatest of gifts. A brand new life, so painfully fragile and vibrant, cradled in one's arms like an exceptionally large, ruddy potato.
(She can't blame the newborn for looking like that, all things considered.)
The thought of speaking to Regis about the issue at hand is nerve-wracking enough that she finally pulls away from Noct enough to furrow her brows at him. ]
What am I supposed to say to him? "The Echo had me live through your son's most traumatic childhood memories and now I can't help but view you as a father-figure. May I call you 'Dad'?"