[It's somewhere between the words and the expression on his father's face that breaks Noctis, and while he's not sure which hits harder, he recognizes the need for what it is. It's what shatters his fear of making it worse by sending another memory, and what makes him close the distance between them, grab Regis first by one arm, then the other, and pull him into a tight and urgent embrace. Send him a kinder one, if you have to, he pleads at whoever is listening, the gods of this world or fate or the unknown that caused this effect in the first place. Give us a break already.
No memory is shared on either side, though, and after a handful of seconds Noctis tightens his grip and closes his eyes, shoulders slumping with relief.]
I don't hate you, [he says again. He'll say it as much as he has to.] I love you. Always have.
[He knows, whenever Regis promised him anything, he wanted to keep it, and it was everything else that got in the way. What they had wasn't perfect, but they were trying to be better than the generations that came before, and that wasn't nothing in Noct's eyes. His father was precious to him, and the thought of losing him had filled him with fear and anxiety for years just as much as the thought of taking the throne afterwards.]
I'm sorry. I know it was hard on you, too... and it will be in the future.
[So many things must make it difficult. His resemblance to his mother, the fact that she was lost to them after giving birth, even his name must have been a painful reminder of her. He could easily have banished the source of that pain and grief to one of the furthest Citadel towers with a collection of nannies and tutors, shunning him until he reached an age where he'd look and sound like a grown man and be useful to a king, rather than just a tiny, needy echo of his lost love. Instead Regis made attempts when the kingdom allowed it- little trips when he could spare an afternoon, presents to make his child smile, more freedom and chances to be normal than any prince could usually have indulged. He knows his father had faced criticisms in the past for how lenient he was with him, sending him to school instead of giving him expensive tutors, letting him move out where he wasn't surrounded by Crownsguard at all times, something he hated. He was so, so fortunate, wanting for nothing except the one thing that Regis couldn't grant him, and the one thing the kingdom would not allow: freedom to be whatever he wanted, and his father's undivided attention.
He did his best against insurmountable odds, and Noctis, through his loneliness, through his grief and that anger he'd carried quietly until he learned the whole truth of his life... he was proud of his father for all the burdens he'd managed to bear.]
You did good. Believe that, if nothing else. No matter what happened... I'm grateful that you're my dad.
lmao you're lucky i'm slow then <3
No memory is shared on either side, though, and after a handful of seconds Noctis tightens his grip and closes his eyes, shoulders slumping with relief.]
I don't hate you, [he says again. He'll say it as much as he has to.] I love you. Always have.
[He knows, whenever Regis promised him anything, he wanted to keep it, and it was everything else that got in the way. What they had wasn't perfect, but they were trying to be better than the generations that came before, and that wasn't nothing in Noct's eyes. His father was precious to him, and the thought of losing him had filled him with fear and anxiety for years just as much as the thought of taking the throne afterwards.]
I'm sorry. I know it was hard on you, too... and it will be in the future.
[So many things must make it difficult. His resemblance to his mother, the fact that she was lost to them after giving birth, even his name must have been a painful reminder of her. He could easily have banished the source of that pain and grief to one of the furthest Citadel towers with a collection of nannies and tutors, shunning him until he reached an age where he'd look and sound like a grown man and be useful to a king, rather than just a tiny, needy echo of his lost love. Instead Regis made attempts when the kingdom allowed it- little trips when he could spare an afternoon, presents to make his child smile, more freedom and chances to be normal than any prince could usually have indulged. He knows his father had faced criticisms in the past for how lenient he was with him, sending him to school instead of giving him expensive tutors, letting him move out where he wasn't surrounded by Crownsguard at all times, something he hated. He was so, so fortunate, wanting for nothing except the one thing that Regis couldn't grant him, and the one thing the kingdom would not allow: freedom to be whatever he wanted, and his father's undivided attention.
He did his best against insurmountable odds, and Noctis, through his loneliness, through his grief and that anger he'd carried quietly until he learned the whole truth of his life... he was proud of his father for all the burdens he'd managed to bear.]
You did good. Believe that, if nothing else. No matter what happened... I'm grateful that you're my dad.