hugtopia_logs | those crystal blues

Maybe it's simply that no one thought to try.

[He spoke without really thinking on the implied suggestion one might or might not have taken from those words; far too worn-down to ponder the exact right wording now that he'd actually spoken honestly on the simple fact that he hadn't wanted to die to begin with.]

The pair of us certainly didn't. We were so caught up with arguing over which of us was right that neither paused long enough to contemplate whether sibling rivalry was ever something the gods accounted for. If it had been as I thought and my power was meant to help, then why wasn't it given to both of us? I'm aware nothing is quite so clear as hindsight, but if we hadn't been so caught up in ourselves then perhaps one of us might have realized the contradiction.

[We couldn't have known, he told himself again, and then finished the thought in a half-murmured fragment:]

...because we trusted that the Astrals were infallible.

[How could Ardyn possibly have known he was making himself the greatest monster the world would ever know, fueling his own eventual resentment by giving everything and refusing to consider any other course of action? And Somnus could never have realized that his own misguided attempt to protect the kingdom would curse himself and a hundred generations of his descendants to fleeting embers created only to kindle a larger flame.]

We each thought the other was the obstruction to the world's salvation, not that the path itself was merely framework to something a thousand times greater.

[It made him sick to think about. The purpose given to their family by the gods had cursed him to eternity in soul-deep darkness and the agony of being neither dead nor alive. Had turned his brother from a too-serious child into a king with a heart wrought of the frigid iron of an executioner's blade.]

[Upon consideration, it was more the latter of the two that made him feel something like anger. If this was really the plan working as intended--that the gods or at least Bahamut had wished the kingdom's inception to be stained in fire and blood, then-]

[Then it's a terrible plan, isn't it? said his own voice in his head. Hesitantly, he had to agree with that.]

...I've told you before. I'll defer to you on this matter, because you're right. What matters is the safety of the world, and if the price is my life, I was already as prepared as one can be for that.

But can either of us really trust that's where it will stop?

...I... don't know.

[It's a terrible feeling, the idea that after their deaths it might not be over, that someone else would have to take on the mantle of this awful, awful responsibility. The line of kings will die with him, the family of Oracles and the emperor are dead- with that, aren't all of the royals in Eos gone? People will be free to live the way they want, form their own leadership. The world might one day be in danger again from something else, but it won't be daemons or starscourge, it won't be the wrath of the fire god who hated mankind. It would (he hopes) be a danger of their own making, something normal for any other world, something that wouldn't require centuries of preparation and suffering or the gods' interference or kill millions before it's over. Conflict will always happen. This conflict was made worse because the supernatural dug their fingers in and humans didn't stand a chance against that. He'd felt what it was like to be powerless, and he never wants that again. Everyone feels like that, though. That's what it means to be human. They can live on. Magic needs to die. He-

His hands twist together in his lap, grip tightening- though still weak from his condition, his knuckles go white.]

That was- their promise, wasn't it? They promised. They kept so much a secret, but- they kept their word to me. Once we do this, the world's supposed to be free and safe. People can live without magic, they just... need the daemons gone, and the war over. I have to bring back the light. I have to- I can't do this unless I believe that the world will be better for it after. [He lifts his head to look at Ardyn, blinking back tears, quietly desperate despite knowing he doesn't have the answer any more than Noct himself.] Won't the world be better? Without daemons, without us?

[Ardyn didn't answer right away, but the stricken and pained look he met Noctis with spoke two thousand years' worth of volumes.]

[He tried desperately to come up with a response--tried to articulate how little he trusted the word of the gods now, knowing what they allowed done to him. For deciding the future should be built on a river of Lucian blood, demanding the life of a child be the last given to save the world. He tried to put into words what once would have been called heresy; that the gods were wrong to ask this of any of them. That there had to be something else, anything else to solve this problem. Ardyn would have turned around that instant and offered his head to the damn Draconian if it would just end this.]

['Once we do this, the world's supposed to be free and safe.']

[I just have to last a little longer, he'd thought, two thousand years ago. Once I do what has been asked of me, then the world and her people will be safe. And how did that turn out?]

[For just a fleeting second, looking at Noctis whose face reflected Somnus' so well and yet so differently in pain and desperation, he understood a fraction of Ardyn Izunia's rage and hatred. How dare he, how dare any of the Astrals take Ardyn's only brother and replace him with a stranger wrought of cold tempered steel. How dare they ask so much and give nothing in return. How dare they torture his family just to make sure they got their desired end result. No gods so unfeeling and indifferent to their followers deserved the piety in the first place.]

[Would a star under that kind of guardianship ever truly be safe?]

[Ardyn couldn't answer any of that; not Noctis' questions, and even less so his own. They both knew as much, surely. All he could do was put his arms around his shoulders (high and cautious as always, mindful of the old injury) and pull him into a gentle hug.]

...I don't know.

[Noctis wishes he could call the mutual non-answer comforting in some way, but it truly isn't. Neither of them know. Neither of them will know. And to hear that it's up to him to decide whether they obey or rebel against the ancient gods who've organized their family's entire relationship between life and death for two thousand years, that it's his call if they save or doom the whole planet... terrifying. It feels like the moment when Cor confirmed the death of his father, that he was king now, and that every decision he made going forward would ripple outwards and affect so many more people than himself and his small group of friends. Broken as Lucis was, people still looked to him for guidance. And who the hell was he? Barely an adult, sheltered and protected his whole life, hardly knew a damn thing about the politics and geography of the world he'd never seen until then. He'd fought gods, but not for real. He'd fought daemons but not fate itself.

Was he just... taking the easy road again? Doing what he's been told, acting as the obedient puppet against the best interests of their home, believing that obviously the gods know best and are instructing him like an adult might direct a small child in the ways of the world. That can't be so, can it? Bahamut chose this because it's the only way. Anything he might attempt on his own terms would only fail and doom everyone. Countless failures in his own past should have taught him that much. Relying on this plan is safer, and it's not like it's easy to die. It's...

...he doesn't know. He doesn't know. His head's too full to think straight about it, anyway, and all his thoughts only run in circles and hit a hundred different walls trying to make sense of it all. Ultimately he just chokes on a breath and slumps into Ardyn's hug, clutching at his shirt, trying not to sob like a child over all the things he doesn't know and all the things he knows now but shouldn't. It's too much. All of this is too much for one or two people to carry, but somehow they're expected to, every time.

He doesn't know, and he hates it.]

[Ardyn didn't know for sure what course of action was best--how could he? His own view of the greater picture was only slightly wider than most, colored by his own resentment and carved in by eternity in darkness. Of course some part of him wanted to curse and resent the gods if this miserable existence was all part of the plan to begin with. Maybe it would be right to do so, but would it help anything?]

['Ever the dreamer. Sentimental hopes do not foundations form.']

[Somnus would have been able to follow through with something like this. Had followed through on it, casting aside his heart to do what was strictly necessary. Was it the right decision...even Ardyn knew that was a question with no simple answer. It was pragmatic. It would be just as practical and realistic now to follow through with what the divine ordered them to do and let blood be the price for the world's safety.]

[...Ardyn had never been much for the realist approach. He'd grown here to accept it as a necessity at times, to be sure; but having only pragmatism or compassion in extremes would (did) help no one. If Bahamut was before the pair of them today, Somnus would have accepted every word and done as he thought he should. Ardyn, meanwhile would scream himself hoarse at the Draconian in a thousand heresies demanding he do the work himself rather than pushing it on sacrifices he clearly cared nothing for.]

[Neither option would yield a satisfying result, and he concluded there had to be something. Some middle ground where no one else had to die.]

[Or at least, he thought, biting his lower lip in frustration until it momentarily bled a cursed black, where only one of us does.]

...There's no reason to finalize the matter right this second--one way or the other.

[His voice was quiet, attempting both to be reassuring and force the look of frustration off his face. None of this mattered at this instant; what mattered was the smaller picture. What mattered was that Noctis was buckling under the weight of what he should never have been asked to bear, and if he could do nothing else Ardyn could be the support he never allowed anyone to be for himself.]

You're not alone in this. If there's any answer to what you ask...then I've every intention of helping you find it.

[Noctis remains quiet for a bit longer, though he does offer a slight nod in response, feeling too exhausted to do much else. He's already running on fumes, and this whole situation - the theorizing, the anxiety, the second-guessing - is draining him more and more with every minute. When Ardyn reminds him they don't have to resolve it now, all he can feel is a rush of relief, and he tries to push it all from his mind. If it were that easy he'd live a simpler life, of course; all of those churning thoughts will remain, hovering over them like a stormcloud waiting to strike when it's least convenient. For now, though, this will have to be enough.

He draws back a little, finally, enough to unmuffle his voice.]

I'm tired... I'm so tired of all of it.

[An absurd thing to say to Ardyn of all people, he knows. Still, he can't help how he feels. Like he'd managed to live several lifetimes worth of grief in two decades. It's not that he wants to die, it's just he can't help wondering if by the time he faces Izunia in the end, they'll both welcome oblivion, after everything they've suffered.]

I know. I am as well. [Which went without saying, but he sympathized all the same.] Just worry about recovering for now. If you should wish to revisit this when you're feeling better, then we can do that.

[He pulled back slightly as well, brushing Noctis' hair out of his face with a look of concern.]

...You really do look exhausted, Noct. Is there anything I can do to help?

I dunno...

[He closes his eyes for a long moment, 'tolerating' the gesture somewhat self-indulgently. He doesn't know what to think at this point, nevermind how to make any decisions. For himself, or for anyone else. He's glad the door is open to consider things later, at least. He might decide to, or he might opt to just keep running from it. But that choice can be far away from him, just for a little while. As for now...]

...Help me think of what to tell my dad?

Hm...well, I suppose telling the entire truth isn't something we're collectively prepared for? Not at this point, at least.

[Things were difficult enough at present without the most difficult conversation imaginable looming overhead as well.]

Definitely not.

[The answer comes automatically, and after a few moments of hesitation, he adds more cautiously,]

Is that... wrong? To want to keep it from him, as long as I can?

Well...'wrong' isn't the word I would use. We can't keep it from him forever, but I can understand why it's something you would wish to hold off on. Though I would caution you, I do not think any amount of time will fully prepare either of you for that conversation.

...No. Probably not.

[He rubs a hand against his forehead, feeling a return of that headache again. It's not just the memories, it's... a lot. This situation is a mess.]

He kept all those secrets my whole life... more than a decade, he knew what was going to happen, and he held it in so I wouldn't have to deal with this. He might disagree with me, considering how pissed I was when the truth started to come out, but I'd like to return the favour if I can.

I don't think there's a right or wrong answer for something as complicated as either situation. No matter when the truth comes out, it's liable to hurt all the same. Wanting to postpone that isn't in itself a terrible thing.

If he's upset with you--and I seriously doubt he will be--you can go ahead and tell him I said that.

[Noctis sets free a quiet huff of laughter at that; it's brief, and with a wince, but glad to feel it nonetheless.]

Yeah, I've got a feeling he'll be a hell of a lot more charitable about it than I was.

[He'll cut himself a little slack, as he'd been running awfully high on a hundred emotions at the time. Still, he can't imagine his father having that harsh a reaction. His dad was far more often sad instead of angry.]

I'll keep that in mind, though. Thanks.

I told you--you're not alone in any of this. I'll be at your side as long as I'm able, in anything you need of me.

I'm gonna tell him you were in on it, then.

[Partners in crime. It's only fair.]

...Well, that is essentially the truth, isn't it? Might as well.

Cool.

[There's no way Regis can be super angry at both of them at the same time.]

Seriously, though, I gotta explain this somehow. [He tugs down his shirt a little, gazing at the crystal being incredibly unsubtle on his chest.] I think he was here- I have to check with Pyra who all showed up. I don't even remember who I texted before I passed out.

[Did he even pass out? Well, something stopped him. There was blood and a headache, and basically everything he'd touched at the time needs a wash. But a blind firing of "help" was all he could manage, and he barely remembers that much.]

You can just tell him the truth in part, perhaps. Assure him that you'll recover, and that you'll explain everything when you're able to.

...But do take care not to worry us like that again, if you can avoid it.

...Feels like every time I try to promise I will, something happens to make things even worse.

[It's almost like fate is conspiring to make his life shitty. Just like home! Maybe the gods just hate him on every world where he lives.]

...We do tend to have terrible luck, don't we?

[No matter the world, it looked like fate loved to kick around the Lucis Caelum family just for the hell of it.]

The worst. Is it too late to be adopted into someone else's family and become their problem instead?

[Knowing them, their bad luck would just follow along and spread...]

Regrettably, it's many years too late for that. We'll just have to be each other's problems.

Uuugh.

[It's said with some emphasis, but not venom, and quietly leans in, resting self-indulgently against Ardyn. Things are a mess, but he's not alone. That counts for something, even if he'll feign complaints.]

Um... thanks. For coming, for hearing me out. I don't- I don't know how I'd handle any of this if it was... just me.

I've told you before--any time you have need of me, even if all I can do is listen, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to thank me; we're the ones stuck in the middle of this, so all we can do is try to help support one another.

those crystal blues

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)