Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Honestly, I don't even know why I bother. Like so many that came before it, this meal is not what I'd hoped it would be. I just wanted us to have a nice dinner together before everyone went their separate ways again.

In spite of everything, I still hope that one day, things will shift back to their former effortlessness…but it never happens. No matter how many of these dinners I orchestrate, the proverbial dark cloud seems to follow us.

Our prince has his good days, and he has his bad days. Then, he has his really bad days. Unfortunately, this is one of his bad days.

Everyone sits quietly at the table, eating the food Ignis and I have carefully prepared, but no one dares talk about anything aside from things like the weather and the number of daemons they managed to kill that day.

Three years. For three years we have been trying to put our fallen king back together. Three years of one step forward and two steps back.

The past three years have easily been the hardest years of my life, but eventually, we got an almost fully functional Noctis. He is a shadow of the former prince of Lucis and is little more than a common hunter, but he is still our Noct. He still has royal blood and a king's instincts, and despite everything, he fights to protect what remains of this world and it's people.

"What was the daylight log today, Iris?" Prompto asks politely from across the table.

"8 hours and forty two minutes," I reply, stabbing some of my veggies with my fork.

It is a rather morbid hobby I have acquired but a hobby nonetheless. I just feel like someone should keep track of how much daylight we are losing. So everyday, I log the sunrise and the sunset, and then I calculate the hours of daylight we had.

"It seems to have plateaued a bit for the time being," Ignis states matter-of-factly before putting some of the baked fish (courtesy of Noctis) into his mouth.

My greatest accomplishment today, in my humble opinion, wasn't my daylight log or the number of daemons I helped take out. No. It was getting Noctis to actually go fishing.

Since Noctis and the others returned to Caem after their failed attempt at reclaiming the Crystal in Niflheim, the prince had little to no passion for anything. He was too weighed down by guilt, grief, and failure.

For a long time, we just let him be. It was only natural that he would need time to come to terms with the latest blow that had been dealt to him. Not only that but we, as a group, had to adjust and reevaluate everything as well.

And there had been a lot to absorb.

Ignis was blind. Lady Lunafreya was dead. Sunlight was leaving the world a little more each day as a result, and according to Ignis, Noctis (the then Chosen King) had to die in order to bring the light back to our world. But we scratched that last bit of information when we learned that upon being rejected by the Crystal, Noctis was no longer the Chosen King.

The selfish part of me was relieved to hear about said rejection. Yes, I knew that it was for the greater good, for the light, and to rid our world of the Starscourge, but it was Noctis! We couldn't just sacrifice him like that.

The guys never said so but I am pretty sure they share my perspective. If they'd known his fate beforehand, they would have fought for another alternative. Unless it went against Noctis' wishes, they would have fought with everything they had to save him.

Still, it doesn't change the fact that our world is falling to pieces around us as we speak. It doesn't change how Noctis feels either. It doesn't change the fact that he feels he has failed us, failed our world. He is convinced that in a moment of weakness, he doomed all of us.

Something in Noctis died. He lost a piece of himself. He is fractured. He lost his home, his throne, his father, and his bride-to-be. Losing his calling, losing what had been preordained, losing what he now saw as the world's last hope of salvation had just been the final blow in a succession of near fatal strikes.

He didn't really speak to anyone about any of it for a long time. But, oddly enough, when he did finally say something of merit, I had been completely and utterly shocked that he'd chosen to say it to me…

'I just… I couldn't lose anyone else,' he'd said.

His voice was a sad, mournful sound, but I understood what he was saying with savage clarity. The Crystal rejected him because of his ties to his friends, to this world. He'd chosen us over the greater good, and the Crystal apparently saw that as weakness, as a form of impurity.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He sits at the head of the table, eating quietly, but he is still avoiding the side of beans on his plate.

He is still a picky eater.

His hair is longer and a bit shaggier. He looks more like a hunter than a prince, probably because he is more hunter than prince now, but he is still handsome as ever.

He's in typical hunter garb: bandanas around his neck, a t-shirt under a protective vest, and an accessory belt around his middle. However, nothing can hide the stunning regal slopes of his face or the unique hue of his eyes.

Likely feeling my intent gaze, his eyes lift and meet mine.

I look away awkwardly and quickly, hoping he didn't catch my blatant staring.

To dissolve some of my discomfort, I give Umbra (who is under the table near Noctis' feet) some table scraps.

Apparently, Noctis finds this amusing because he has a small, almost coy smile on his face.

I smirk in spite of myself and hold a finger to my lips, as if it's a secret and I don't want him to tell anyone.

Still grinning a little, he shakes his head and begins picking at his food again.

And just like that, the moment is gone. Noctis has reverted back to the lethargic state that has become all to commonplace.

"Anyone wanna play cards after dinner?" Talcott asks, his eyes bright with hope that maybe, for a little while, things can go back to how they were before everything turned to shit.

Noctis doesn't answer, much to Talcott's disappointment.

I look over at him and smile warmly. "I'll play with you, Talcott."

I know the invitation isn't necessarily for me, but I figure I'm better than nothing.

"Count me in too," Prompto offers, the mere sound of his carefree voice seems to energize the space around us, but even Prompto's eyes aren't as bright as they once were.

Prompto's response gets a grin out of Talcott, but we all know Noctis is the one that he really wants to play carts with. But over the course of the past few years, Noctis has found a coping mechanism in listlessness, which sometimes results in him distancing himself from us.

Once everyone finishes eating, I help Monica and Dustin with the dishes. Noctis actually bothers to help tonight instead of immediately going to his room like he used to.

I've learned to be thankful for any progress he makes, but as soon as the dishes are done, Noctis retires for the night. He doesn't linger.

"Thanks for the meal everyone," he says before heading up the stairs. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

After a few rounds of cards with Prompto and Talcott, I retreat to my room with every intention of preparing for bed. However, a certain prince is in my room.

There he sits, on my bed, the prince I've had a crush on since I was a girl. However, this prince is weary and not the vibrant one I've fantasized about for years.

But I love him all the same. In fact, I probably love him more despite how difficult the past three years have been. The struggle has given me an even greater understanding of him. I am no longer a fifteen year old with a crush pining for any sliver of attention he'd give me. I am a seventeen year old who fell in love with him while he was at his lowest point.

"I got a hole in one of my shirts on a hunt a while back." He scratches the back of his head. "Could you…?"

I hold my hand out for said shirt, my fingers twitching playfully yet impatiently.

Noctis rises to his feet, closes the gap between us, and puts the neatly folded article of clothing in my grasp.

"I meant to ask earlier, but I kept forgetting."

His smell is suddenly all around me, and I have to resist the urge to just keep this shirt forever.

It's funny how his scent has taken on an earthy, woodsy undertone, but I can still pick up on the underlying fragrance that is reminiscent of expensive cologne (that I know for a face he hasn't actually worn in years). It is the prefect mix of bergamot, smoky sandalwood, and a hint of Lucian lemon.

I walk over to what Prompto and Noctis jokingly call my sewing circle. It's where I sometimes nurture my passion for clothing and crafts, but most of the time, I just end up doing repair jobs for the guys.

I used to dream about designing my own clothes and opening a store, but a while back, I accepted that that was likely all it would ever be – a dream.

We sit in strained silence a while as I thread my needle and prepare to mend the hole in his shirt, which is thankfully on the seam.

"Tell me about a good day," I finally say.

This is something I do often. It is a pitiful attempt to cheer him up, but – from my experience – it usually yields some pretty good results.

I stumbled upon it by accident, but because it seemed to work, I continued using the method until it kind of became…a thing.

I ask about the past. I try to take him back to a few bright spots since the future is pretty bleak.

He smirks. "The day I finally kicked your brother's ass in a sparing match."

As I mend his shirt, he continues talking about the day he finally bested Gladdy. The more he talks, the lighter his expression becomes. He is immersing himself in the pleasant memory, recalling even the faintest of details. He remembers the time of year and even the weapon he'd chosen.

When he finishes, he is in slightly better spirits, as was my intention. Asking him about good days is almost always therapeutic for him.

"All done!" I hold out the finished (but still dirty) product. "It could still probably use a wash though."

"Right. Thanks, Iris."

I smile, trying to be bright and optimistic, but it's hard. I'm not the hopeful optimist I used to be. A lot of it has been bleed out of me. It's the price I paid to survive in this dying world, to follow Noctis into the dark.

His mouth twitches into a small smile before he turns to leave, gently shutting the door behind him.

Sylleblossoms are everywhere. Dozens upon dozens of them cover every stretch of land as far as the eye can see. Even their feathery petals permeate the air around me.

I've never seen so many, but something is kind of…off. I'm clearly at the Caem outpost…but sylleblossoms don't grow here.

As I take a few steps forward, it's almost as if I am underwater. Everything is kind of muffled and blurry. It has this eerie, otherworldly quality despite how beautiful it is.

"Iris…?"

Suddenly, there is a young girl in white standing behind me. She has pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

"Lady Lunafreya?"

It is Lunafreya, but it isn't the Lunafreya I remember. This Lunafreya is much younger, but there is still a strange sadness in her eyes. It's something that shouldn't exist in the eyes of a child.

My heart aches for her.

The girl smiles and somehow everything gets even brighter, too bright. It's hard not to flinch away.

I don't speak. I can't speak. What could I possibly say to… her ?

"Can you help me?" she asks. No. She begs.

With what…? How can I possibly help her? I have nothing to offer the Oracle.

Lunafreya take hold of my hands. She is cold as death, and I can't keep myself from wincing at the contact.

"Noctis…"

"Noctis? What about him?"

The girl's eyes fill with tears. Her mouth opens, but nothing escapes them. The pain is too great. It is so abundant I can almost feel it seeping into me through our joined hands. It is contagious, like a virus.

I wake with a start, expecting to still be in a vibrant field of sylleblossoms holding Lady Lunafreya's hands, but instead, my simple room at the Caem outpost greets me.

I sit up and cast my gaze toward the door where I see Umbra in the floor, looking up at me with his head tilting to one side.

"Are you helping her do this, boy?" I ask as if he can answer.

Umbra approaches the edge of my bed and nuzzles my hand.

"What is she trying to tell me?" I ask again as I rub him behind the ears.

I've been having dreams about the Oracle for a while now. I blew them off at first, but they are becoming more frequent. I've been forced to acknowledge that they mean…something. I just don't know what. Lady Lunafreya is always ambiguous and never says much aside from the fact that she wants my help.

I never breathe a word of the dreams to anyone, but I keep a log of them just like I keep a log of our daylight hours.

I write them down with the hope that there will be some message if I look at them collectively. So far, nothing stands out.

Resolving to deal with it later, I get out of bed and start getting dressed.

I toss on some hunter garb: a tank top, gloves, shorts and hiking boots. Then, I go to the mirror to inspect myself.

My hair is longer than what I am used to. It is no longer the unruly bob that flips out at the edges I'd sported as a fifteen year old. It is still unruly but it now falls past my shoulders in subtle waves that still try to curl up around my face.

I need a haircut but haircuts are kind of low on my priority list, hence the fact that it's gotten as long as it has. I settle for brushing it and putting it into a messy ponytail on top of my head.

Once my wild hair is out of the way, I start packing a few things for my pre-morning stroll.

I grab my sword (the sword Gladdy has been trying to teach me to use since he still isn't crazy about the idea of me fighting daemons with nothing but my bare hands, so we've started toying with weaponry, and the weapon of the month is greatswords), throw a few potions in just in case, and finally, grab my logbook.

The residence (if it can even be called that) is still asleep as I travel down the stairs and into the living area. I can hear Gladio snoring.

"Coming or going?" I ask Umbra as I quietly open the front door.

The dog looks at me a moment before trotting outside, apparently deciding to head out with me.

With Umbra in tow, I make my way to the rocky Caem shore. I've tried several different locations, but the fishing spot near Spelcray Haven is my favorite. It has the best view of the sunrise.

I sit down on the worn dock with Umbra and pull out my phone, a pen, and my logbook.

It's quiet. The daemons are no longer out, but the animals are still in hiding too. They know that it isn't completely safe until sunrise, but since I've started hunting daemons with the others (Gladio and Cor still insist it is too dangerous for me to hunt alone, but I am slowly wearing them down to the idea), I've learned most of them call it quits around 4:00 in the morning.

"5:38 AM on the dot," I announce as the sun starts to emerge from the edge of the ocean, its orange light glittering along the glossy surface.

It is sad to think that there will be a day when the sun won't come up. Sometime in the future, it will just…stop.

I think that is one of the reasons I do this. I know I won't get many other chances.

Sometimes the others come with me. On good days, I can even get Noctis to join me, but he prefers to join me at sunset since he isn't a morning person.

For a while, I just sit on the dock, my feet dangling over the water, petting Umbra, and watching the world slowly come to life. The insects begin to call, cars start to whizz by, and the birds start singing.

I think about staying even longer, but I don't want to waste any of the time I have left with the others. They'll be leaving for the Hunter HQ soon to help with a daemon epidemic up north, so I decide to head back.

Upon arrival, I see that the residence is already stirring. Dustin is outside doing chores and Prompto is on the front porch toying with his camera.

Umbra begins barking and playfully chasing the cat that lives near the lighthouse. Umbra wants to befriend the stray, but the cat is not interested. In fact, the only person that cat does like was Noctis, and it only likes him because he feeds it.

Once I am close enough, Prompto aims the camera at me, and I pose flamboyantly.

"Nice one!" he exclaims, eyeing the picture immediately.

"Let me see!" I run up the stairs and onto the porch.

"No. You'll make me delete it!" Prompto stands and holds the camera over his head.

I jump on my tiptoes. Sadly, the past few years have contributed nothing to my height. I blame Gladio. He probably took all of the giant genes and left none for me to inherit.

"I won't if it's good!" I argue, still reaching for the camera.

"But you're a teenager! You never think any pictures of you are good!" he teases, but I know that there is some truth in his words.

"Give me the damn camera, Prompto!" I try to climb on his back so I can extend my reach.

"You know, you're turning into your brother more everyday," he cries, but I manage to snatch the camera out of his hand.

Prompto falls back into his chair, defeated and rubbing the back of his neck where I squeezed him.

I sit on the railing and look at the picture. It isn't good. My hair looks dirty, and the hunter garb I'm wearing looks painfully dull. I am even making a weird face, but because I don't want Prompto to be right, I decide to let him keep it. I don't want to play the role of the teenager…even though technically I am one.

"Gotten any good ones lately?" I begin flipping through the other pictures he has taken.

"A few."

I frown as I stumble upon the most recent pictures of Noctis.

"He doesn't really smile anymore, does he?" I muse, my eyes not leaving the Noctis on the camera's screen.

Prompto's shoulders sag. "No. Not like he used to."

Sighing, I hand the camera back to him.

"Oh, Ignis wants you to try to wake Noct. We've already tried and he still isn't up."

Prompto doesn't have to say anything else. I know the routine. They often use me as a last resort. Sometimes – I have no idea why – Noctis listens to me when he will listen to no one else.

I don't understand why Noctis responded to me the way he did. Somewhere along the way, our relationship shifted, and this broken version of Noctis reacted strongly to me.

It's kind of like those stories where a chocobo egg hatches and someone (or something) is standing too close and the disoriented chocobo chick mistakes the bystander for their mother.

Regardless, I don't question it, and as our relationship steadily shifted over the years, I just went with it. But I know that under any other circumstances, this wouldn't be the case.

"Okay," I reply quietly. "I'll see what I can do after I get something to eat."

Noctis' room is a mess as usual. With Ignis still adjusting to blindness, he can't pick up after him like he used to. So I (much to Gladio's dismay) have started picking up the slack.

As expected, he is still asleep, lying face down in a small pool of his own saliva.

"Rise and shine," I call as I pick up the trash and empty bottles scattered across the floor. "It's 7:00, which given the amount of daylight we have left, is roughly the equivalent of 10:00."

He groans and shifts but does little else.

I put the trash away and pace the room, not looking at anything in particular until I see the Ring of the Lucii on the dresser.

Noct doesn't wear it. Not anymore. Gladdy says he took it off sometime after they left Niflheim and went back to holding it and hiding it.

The ring makes me wonder, not for the first time, about the chancellor, Ardyn. No one has seen or heard from him since the Crystal spat Noctis out. We can only assume he is in hiding somewhere, biding his time, plotting, and gaining strength for his next move…whatever that might be.

I sit on the edge of the bed and watch Noctis rest.

I itch to touch him. I want to brush his hair away from his face and run my fingers along his jaw, but as always, I force myself to resist.

I am not the smartest person, but I like to think that I am an individual of reasonable intelligence. I am not dumb enough to think that I can fill that particular void in Noct's life. Did I still wish I could? Sure, but I am not blind to the reality that is Noctis Lucis Caelum.

Even at the tender age of fifteen, I knew that our stars would never align. I accepted that my feelings would remain unrequited and vowed to never disrespect anyone by acting on them.

"Come on." I pat his back playfully. "Up and at 'em. Gladdy is already threatening to leave you."

Slowly, he sits up, yawning and raking a hand through his hair.

Gods, I am going to miss him.

It's been a while since I've gone an extended period of time without seeing him, and I'm not really ready to let go. I know he is better and that he doesn't need me, but I can't keep from feeling like I should be there for him in case he does need me.

I knew from the beginning that this – whatever it was – was temporary. It was a fluke, and he will revert back to a state where he no longer wants or needs me.

But it still hurts...

"Will one of you please call when you get there?" I beg as they make their way to the shitty truck Cid gave them to replace the Regalia.

To me, this isn't an unreasonable request. I am not asking for the moon. I just want to know that they've arrived to their destination in one piece. However, they almost never follow through.

"Yeah," Noctis replies, deadpan.

"And you might want to fill up the truck's tank before you leave Old Lestallum. Dustin said you were close to empty and Cindy has been pretty busy lately so she might not be able to get you right away."

"Right."

"Oh, and don't forget your Moogle!"

Noctis stops his trek to the road and lazily turns to take the doll from me.

"I gave him some extra stiches and reinforced some of the hemming so he should be good to go for a while. Just try not to do anything too crazy."

"Mm." He turns and continues following the path down to the road where the truck (or Rusty as they affectionately called it) is parked.

"Got it!" Prompto exclaims and holds a fist into the air.

"But even if you do, you know you can just bring him back, and I'll fix him," I add even though I know Noctis has reached the point where he is no longer listening to me. He is just humoring me and trying not to hurt my feelings even though I am grating on his nerves.

Noctis nods without turning around. "Yep."

"Promise you'll be careful?" I aim this question at anyone who will listen.

"Of course," Ignis replies, courteous and considerate as always.

Gladio puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Call if you need us."

"Sure." I smile. "You too."

Noctis places a hand on the truck's hood, preparing to get in but hesitates.

"Hey… Iris?" he mumbles.

"Hmm?" I lace my fingers behind my back and lean forward.

He stares at me for a long-suffering moment, his gaze so intent and unrelenting that I blush to my collarbone and recoil.

"Nothing. Just…thanks. You know, for everything."

I manage to get even redder. There is a lot of implication to those words.

A lot of people misunderstand Noctis because of how he carries himself. It is very easy for him to seem aloof and unmindful, but I've known for a long time that isn't the case. He is very caring and compassionate. He just doesn't show or communicate how he really feels much.

But he doesn't have to. I know. I've known since the first moment I met him, when he held me and comforted me even though he didn't even know who I was. Perhaps it's easier for me to see the compassionate side of him because of those memories. Maybe it's because I saw that side of him first that I am able to see past his detached exterior.

Regardless of why, I know he is thanking me for all I've done for him. He is referring to all the moments I drug him out of bed, forced him to eat, begged him into doing anything and everything, tried to make him laugh, and even for turning into my brother and screaming at him when I could take no more of his more unsavory behaviors.

"Okay, okay, break it up. We're losing daylight here." Gladio grabs Noctis by the shoulders and shoves him into the truck's cab.

"Literally!" Prompto calls as he crawls into the backseat. The truck seems more like a clown car than a truck as they force their way into it. There isn't nearly enough room for all of them.

"Too soon, dude," Noctis grumbles as Umbra leaps into his lap.

"Right. Sorry." Prompto chuckles nervously.

"Seatbelts, please!" Ignis implores, his tone slightly exasperated. It's going to be a long drive to the Hunter HQ.

I stand on the roadside, waving until the car is out of sight and their voices fade.

Chapter Text

"I want to do something nice for Iris's birthday," Gladio says as we sit around the campfire enjoying a nice helping of Cup Noodles.

"Do you have anything particular in mind?" Ignis inquires.

"I was thinking we could have a party in Lestallum. You know, get everyone to help out with decorations and all that. I thought we might even head back to Caem early to surprise her with presents before her actual birthday."

Prompto beams smugly. "Look at you being a good big brother."

"Well, she deserves it. She's done a lot for us lately. But even if that weren't the case, she deserves a night as a normal teenager. I think about that a lot. You know, how those years have been stolen from her. There's so much that she's missed out on." Gladio is oddly contemplative as he speaks, his dark eyes focused on the fire pit.

"Yeah…" Prompto agrees with a slow nod. "It's not fair."

In the heavy silence that follows, I can't keep my mind from going to thoughts of Luna and how she never got to do normal things either. Iggy once told me that Ravus mourned her never having a normal life, and I mourn that too. Luna never got to do a lot of the things we take for granted every day.

"So, what about it?" Gladio's pitch and demeanor shifts gears. "You guys wanna help?"

"Hell yeah!" Prompto is enthusiastic as ever.

"Of course." Ignis adjusts his glasses, more out of habit than actual need to improve his vision.

Gladio's eyes lock onto me. "Noct?"

Everyone is suddenly looking at me expectantly, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my seat.

"Yeah." I nod. "Count me in."

I failed Luna, but I won't let Gladio fail Iris. Ravus couldn't do these things for Luna, and I'm not about to let Gladio blow the opportunity to provide for Iris.

Life is too short.

"So…whatcha gettin' Iris?" Prompto asks through a mouthful of bread and soup.

"No idea," I reply instantly as I pick at my own food.

We've been shopping around Lestallum all day and nothing has really stood out to me. I've just been looming over various wares for what feels like hours. I've almost bought at least a dozen different things, but I can never actually follow through with purchasing anything. Eventually, I stopped for a lunch break with Prompto at Surgate's Beanmine. Gladio and Ignis are still shopping somewhere else in the city.

"Are you kidding?" Prompto scoffs playfully. "You've got it easy."

My brow knits together. "How?"

"Because, Iris likes you, and therefore you have this magical ability to make her love anything you give her."

"She likes you too," I counter.

"Yeah, but she likes you." Prompto wiggles his eyebrows as he takes another bite out of his bread.

I grimace. I like to think that we're past the whole crush thing. Iris has matured a lot over the years, but a part of me does feel guilty, like I'm leading her on with our new dynamic and proximity.

"Sorry…" Prompto says, suddenly uneasy. "I didn't mean to strike a nerve…"

"No big deal. It's not the worst nerve you could have hit." I shrug, picking at my food but still not eating it.

"It's just that you two have gotten closer so I thought you might be okay with talking about her," Promoto continues, eager to undo his mistake, but he's only making things even more awkward.

"What did you get her?" I decide to change the subject. I can no longer handle the current topic.

"I got her a scrapbook with some of her favorite pictures to put in it." He motions to his camera sitting on the table.

"That's really thoughtful. She'll love that."

"And Ignis got her some cooking utensils," he continues. "You know, some of the ones he has that she's been borrowing for a while."

"What about Gladio?" I cross my arms and recline into my seat. I've lost my appetite.

"I think he's getting her some clothing and materials so she can design some clothes of her own instead of just mending ours all the time."

"How am I supposed to compete with all that?" I pinch the bridge of my nose.

Prompto smirks. "I'm sure you'll think of something, and even if you can't, you can always offer to take her on a date."

I throw a spoon at him. "Shut up."

We manage to make it back to the Caem outpost the day before Iris's eighteenth birthday. However, the birthday girl is nowhere to be seen.

"She went back to bed after she logged the sunrise," Monica explains as she continues coating a small cupcake with icing in the kitchen. "She was out pretty late with Cor and the others."

"Good!" Gladio claps his hand together. "That'll give us time to get everything ready."

"You were smart to come in before her birthday," Monica replies. "She doesn't think you're coming in until later in the week."

"Woo! Sneak attack!" Prompto muses as he jumps on my back and messes with my hair. "She'll never see it comin'!"

We put up a few decorations. A few corny balloons are scattered throughout the place, and we also put up a banner that says: HAPPY BIRTHDAY. It is kind of crooked, and it looks like it was made by a five-year-old, but hey, it's a banner. Talcott and I even went out to pick some flowers for her.

The present-covered table actually looks better than our pitiful decorations do. Monica made some really nice cupcakes and put the flowers we picked in an elegant vase complete with a fancy ribbon wrapped around it. The tablecloth is white and lacy, and the table setting reminds me a little of the placement the servants always fixed for Father and me, but I shove the memory away as soon as it surfaces.

Once, everything is ready, there is nothing else for us to do but wait for Iris to get up.

Prompto takes pictures of everything while the rest of us chat around the table.

Eventually, we hear shuffling around upstairs, and everyone gathers around the table and assumes the surprise position.

"Happy Birthday!" everyone cries when Iris emerges from her room.

She's in a t-shirt, striped shorts, and high, colorful socks. Her hair is messy and her eyes are weary despite their widening with surprise.

Iris blinks a few times as she slowly realizes what's going on.

"Wow, you guys!" Her expression brightens as she comes down the stairs and eyes the spread on the table. "You didn't have to do all this…"

"No. But we wanted to." Gladio hauls an arm around her shoulder. "Happy Birthday, Iris."

"Thank you." Iris blushes a little and slowly takes a seat at the head of the table.

"Make a wish!" Talcott puts a red velvet cupcake – complete with birthday candle – in front of her.

She shifts around for a minute, like she isn't sure what she should wish for before finally blowing out the candle.

No one asks what she wished for.

After gorging ourselves with sugar, Iris opens her gifts.

Monica and Dustin combined efforts to get her a fancy sewing machine.

Ignis got her some really nice cookware.

Prompto, of course, has his scrapbook, picture frames, and photos.

Gladio got her some really fancy fabric for clothing along with a punching bag so she can harness her daemon killing skills.

Talcott got her a stuffed cactuar, a handwritten card, and a movie to watch on the shitty portable disk player they have.

And I end up standing around looking like a jackass.

"I didn't forget your gift," I explain lamely once everyone starts to scatter a bit. "It just…hasn't come in yet."

She chuckles and shakes her head. "That's fine, Noct. You didn't have to get me anything. Just the four of you making it back in one piece is enough."

"Not really, but it should be here sometime tomorrow. Hopefully, before your party." I drum my fingers along the table's clothed surface.

Iris grins. "Okay, but even if it doesn't, that's okay too. I promise, you didn't have to get me anything."

She's wrong. I feel strangely obligated, and a birthday gift is the least I can do.

On Iris's birthday, one of Dino's associates brings her gift to Caem. I head down to the roadside to meet him, thank him, and give him the required amount of gil so he'll leave before anyone sees.

My gift isn't as thoughtful as everyone else's, but it's a gift nonetheless, which is pretty good considering someone (usually Ignis) does this kind of thing for me.

A few days ago, I decided on getting her a designer dress from Altissia. I know it's been a while since she got anything nice like this. Now I have this ritzy designer dress in a bag on a hanger...

"Here." I hand the dress to Gladio as soon as I reenter our room at the outpost.

"What is it?" Gladio eyes my offering cynically, but he doesn't take it from me. He continues sitting on the couch, his thumb hovering over his phone's screen.

"It's Iris's present from me," I clarify, still holding the dress towards him, still hoping he'll take it.

"Then, why don't you give it to her?" He is clearly confused.

Because I don't need our relationship getting anymore complicated than it already is…

"…I don't want her getting the wrong idea," I admit sheepishly after a painful pause.

He goes from confused to suspicious in a milisecond. "What exactly is the wrong idea?"

I feel my face heating with a strange mix of irritation and embarrassment.

"I don't want to lead her on, okay? I don't want her reading too much into this because I don't want to hurt her. Happy?" I practically shove the dress into his chest.

Gladio rolls his eyes and throws it back at me.

"Just man up and give her the damn thing," he growls and starts messing with his phone again. "It's your gift."

I don't know if this is similar to the flower bouquet fiasco where Gladio wants Iris to get the wrong idea (because he knows it'll make her happy) or if he thinks it won't be a that big of a deal. Either way, I guess I'm giving this dress to her personally. Consequences be damned.

Reluctantly, I knock on the door to Iris's room. I'm getting extreme déjà vu. This is feeling more and more like the time Gladio made me give Iris flowers. However, this time I actually have to take credit for the item I'm holding behind my back. No coercion was required.

"Come in!"

I let myself in and see Iris is toying with her new sewing machine. I don't think she is actually sewing anything though. It mainly looks like she's trying to figure out how to thread it properly.

I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, rolling around on the balls of my feet. Eventually, I clear my throat and take a few steps toward her.

Iris puts the sewing machine away and all of her attention is suddenly on me.

"Uh, here." I extend the bagged dress towards her.

Her eyes widen as she takes hold of the hanger and spreads the dress across the foot of the bed. Slowly, she unzips the bag and pulls the dress from its cocoon.

It's jade with a high collar that wraps around the neck like a chocker. It's short but not too short (I knew Gladio would kick my ass if it were even somewhat lewd). It's classy but could also pass for a party dress…I think. I wouldn't really know. I'm not up to date when it comes to this kind of thing, but when I was weighing my options Dino said this one was all the rage in Altissia this season. Whatever. I mainly picked it out because of the color.

"It's beautiful, Noct..." she breathes, running her fingertips along the rich, jade fabric of the dress.

It wasn't exactly easy to get. I had to call in a favor from Dino, who called in a favor from Altissia.

"But I don't know if I can accept this." Her eyes find mine, but her hands linger affectionately on the dress. "It looks really expensive…"

"Then…consider it a rental. Wear it to your party, and if you don't want to keep it, I'll return it."

There is a long pause where she continues to eye the dress, her expression soft yet contemplative.

"Okay." A nod. "That sounds fair."

I can't remember the last time I went to a party. We used to go out in Insomnia another lifetime ago. It had countless locations where any kind of event could be hosted. There were even places you could go to just let loose and have a good time. There was something for everyone, which was nice because you don't always feel like being in a crowded room with blasting music. Sometimes, you want a more wholesome atmosphere where you can still have fun. Prompto and I used to favor this place that had a bar, dancing, and several arcade machines in the back.

A part of me has to wonder how different things would be if Insomnia hadn't fallen. Where would Iris be having her party? Would we even be invited? Would it be school friends only? Maybe, but Insomnia did fall so I guess it doesn't matter. A party with a festival-like feel in Lestallum will have to do.

It's actually pretty lively. A lot of people are here. There is live music. There's more food and drinks than we'll ever need, but everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.

Gladio invited a lot of people Iris's age so there is definitely a sort of high school dance/party feel, but our typical crowd is here too.

Cor, Cid, Monia, Wiz, and Dustin have taken on the unofficial role of chaperone/wallflower. Sania has cornered Gladio with a likely one-sided conversation about native flora and fauna, much to Prompto's delight since he didn't want to compete with Gladio for Cindy's attention. Dino and Vyv have hit if off, but this may just be because they are both pretty buzzed. Takka has been wandering around sampling a lot of the food and has slowly become an extra caterer.

Even Arenea and her goons are here spending a lot of time with Holly, Dave, and Ignis. I'm not entirely sure why she is here. She and Iris aren't exactly close, but hey, I'm not questioning it. The more the merrier.

The whole point of this was to gain a sense of normalcy, and I think we've accomplished that – at least for a little while. Iris seems to be having fun with friends other than us that are actually closer to her age. She looks like a regular teenager and there is this weird sense of accomplishment accompanying that.

Iris is one of those people who can charge a room (or in this case, the area around the fountain by the Leville) with their presence, and she does so easily at her own party.

Everyone is drawn to her energy and appears to be having a good time. I think I've seen everyone dance at least once. I never would've taken Arenea for a dancer, but she has actually been dancing with everyone, including me. I think Ignis is her favorite dance partner though. I haven't shared this theory with anyone else, but I'm pretty sure they'd agree with me.

Needing a few moments to recharge (I've been cornered by Cor and Monica for what feels like hours), I help myself to a drink with the guys, but I don't indulge much. I can't keep from thinking back to my darker days when Iris hid any and all forms of liquor from me because she didn't want me to use it to escape. She didn't want me to become dependent on that kind of thing.

At the time, I'd been angry. We had a few ugly fights about my intake or the lack thereof, but now I'm grateful. It would have been really easy to sink into a liquor bottle and never come out…

'The world still needs you,' she'd insisted.

I don't know about that, but I do know that my friends and those I care about seem to need me, and that's what's kept me going.

"Where's Sweet Sixteen?" Arenea asks as she takes my drink from me and proceeds to finish it off.

"Uh…" I glance around, but Iris is nowhere in sight. "I'm not sure."

"She probably ran off with that cute guy she's been talking to. I know I would've gone for it." She snickers into the glass, her greenish eyes twinkling with mischief.

I cringe a little. Iris isn't supposed to like 'cute guys', and she definitely isn't supposed to run off with them.

"She better not have gone for it…" Gladio grinds his teeth in his mouth.

I start to say something snarky about him being a hypocrite. He'd gone for it multiple times by the time he was eighteen. Ultimately, I choose against it because I don't like the idea of it either. Some of the dances she'd had with a few of the guys lingering around were kind of hard to watch.

"Well, you did want her to have a night as a normal teenager..." Prompto drawls "and normal teenagers—"

Gladio covers his ears, almost spilling his drink on his shoulder. "I know what normal teenagers do!"

"Iris is a very responsible young lady, Gladio." Ignis puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, but the fact that she's growing up is still hard to swallow."

I take it upon myself to initiate a small search for Iris, just to make sure she is safe and to also give myself some space. I can't do crowds like I used to, and I wasn't all that great at crowds before.

I love my friends. I'm forever indebted to all of those who have supported me in spite of everything that's happened, but it's still hard to face them sometimes. The guilt and shame is almost too much to bear, and even when we're having fun, being around them is a constant reminder of all my shortcomings.

The further away I get from the hotel and the bazaar, the quieter the industrial city seems to get, which leads me to believe it's later than I realize. There is a steady stream of people still wandering around (Lestallum never really sleeps), but it's almost peaceful. I end up almost enjoying my quiet, little stroll through the city.

Lestallum has never been one of my favorite locations, but it has its strange charm at night when the heat isn't as intense, when the power plant seems to lull, and the sun isn't around to highlight all the pipes and garbage in the narrow, stone alleyways. And I have to admit the lights strung along the palm trees are a nice touch.

After wandering aimlessly a while, I find Iris on a bench near Pegglar Outlook. Her shoes are gone and she looks tired.

"Having fun?" I ask as I sit next to her.

"Oh, yeah! It's been a blast! But my feet are starting to hurt…" She wiggles her toes. She's used to boots and sneakers, not heels or flats.

"Well, you have been doing a lot of dancing…"

"A lot of people asked. I couldn't bring myself to say no," she admits as she puts her hands on the bench seat and leans forward a bit. Her eyes stay low though.

"Think you might have one more left for me?" I don't know why I do this to myself…and to her. I'd resolved to just play big brother tonight and supervise, but apparently, I can't help myself.

Iris has become a bright spot in my otherwise bleak world. After everything that happened, I found solace in her demeanor. She was bright. She was optimistic. She had everything that I'd lost, everything that had been beaten out of countless others. Somehow, she'd managed to hold onto it.

She is resilient, and I admire that.

"Of course," she replies without hesitation.

I realize that I also like feeling wanted. After being rejected by the Crystal, I felt I had disappointed everyone. It was so hard to look anyone in the eye. But when I saw Iris again and spoke to her, I didn't see the pity or the dismay. Everyone else was at a loss, walking on eggshells, but Iris was just happy to see me, to be near me, to listen to anything I said. She wasn't asking questions. Iris didn't want anything from me. When I was with her, I no longer felt like a prince, a dethroned king, or a failure. I didn't feel the pressure to be a Chosen King or to fulfill a prophecy for the greater good. Iris just wanted me happy…because she simply, foolishly, and wholeheartedly wanted me in the purest of ways.

These things were simple. They were things I used to find annoying, but in my weakened state, I'd needed them. The part of me the Crystal spat back out feed off them. I know it's selfish but selfishness is what got me here. The Crystal knew I couldn't let go-

"You know, I never really took you for the dancing type," she says, casting her gaze out towards the glowing Meteor in the distance.

"I'm not, but somewhere it's unwritten law for a prince to know how to dance and because of that, I was forced to learn." I inwardly cringe at the memory of countless hours in the ballroom learning how to waltz.

Iris sighs and looks up at the sky even though the lights of the city are hiding the stars. "You don't have to. I know Gladdy probably asked you to. I don't really want a pity dance."

I'm a bit taken back. "It's not pity."

"A humor dance then," she rephrases, her tone still rather flat.

"It's not that either," I argue.

Her brown eyes, which look almost hazel thanks to the unique hue of her dress, lock onto me. I privately give myself props for picking out a dress that compliments her complexion so well.

"Are you stray-catting me?"

"What?" I reel, my brow furrowed. "What the hell even is that?"

"It's when you feed a stray cat, and the cat keeps coming back, and then, you don't really know what to do with it." Iris starts swinging her legs back and forth under the bench. "So then you start feeding it out of a sense of pity and obligation. And don't say you don't have stray cat obligation tendencies because I know you do. That cat at the Caem outpost is proof. Monica is still making food for that thing."

"I don't recall ever feeding you Monica's cat food."

"Don't be a smartass," she says, but she's grinning, her voice quivering with mirth as she nudges me with her shoulder.

I groan. "Do you want the dance or not?"

Iris slouches into the bench and stares at the ground.

"Going once." I stand.

"Going twice…" I hold out my hand. She glares at it.

"Sold," she grumbles and puts her hand in mine.

I'm starting to regret my decision to ask her to dance. I feel like everyone is looking at us, even though a lot of people are still dancing near the fountain, and now that we are actually here, I don't know how to go about approaching this.

The social grace Iris had when dancing with everyone else is gone. She stands in front of me awkwardly, rubbing at her shoulders as if she's fighting off a chill.

"Are you cold?" I ask. "I guess I shouldn't have picked out a sleeveless dress…"

"What?" Her big, brown eyes are wide as she gazes up at me. "No. No. It's not the dress."

"Oh."

Iris moves first. She makes a decision for me and wraps her arms around my waist. It's a lot like a hug.

I smile a little and place a hand on the back of her head.

I can't help but be reminded of the first time I met her when we were kids. I saw her in the palace courtyard chasing after a cat. I didn't know who she was, but after ditching my caretakers, I'd run off after her.

When I'd finally caught up with her, she'd already taken one of my secret passages outside. It had gotten dark, and it was starting to rain. I could hear her crying.

Scared and covered in mud, she'd crashed into me just like this, and I'd put a hand on her head to comfort her, letting it glide down to the junction between her head and neck.

Unlike that night, she isn't lost, and it isn't raining so she smells a lot better. I probably do too. I'd gotten pretty dirty chasing after her.

Tonight, Iris smells like orchids and black currant.

Her hair is soft. Her skin is warm. Her breaths are smooth and even as they seep inside me and sync with the rhythm of my own breathing.

Briefly, I close my eyes and bask the moment because it isn't terrible.

Iris has fallen asleep in the lobby of the Leville. I can only assume it happened sometime after she thanked everyone for coming but before we finished cleaning up some of the mess left behind.

I can't help but find her endearing as she lies on the divan barefoot and still in the dress I got her. She looks so innocent, serene, and nothing short of content.

Absentmindedly, I sit on the divan next to her and brush some of the hair covering her face away, trying to get a better view of the tranquility blanketing her soft features, hoping against hope that maybe some of it will find its way into me. Her rich, brown curls coil around my fingers as if they don't want me to let go.

Her eyelashes are thick and black as they rest on top of her cheeks, the tropical climate of Lestallum giving her skin a subtle, rosy glow.

Iris is pretty. It's funny how I never really noticed before. Then again, I never really paid attention, and I had no desire to. Iris was just…Iris. That is all there was to it.

Honestly, I've never found too many women outside of Luna attractive. I'm not sure if it is out of some faithfulness to the woman I would grow to see as my first and only or the fact that I knew I shouldn't really be looking at other girls given the circumstances.

Women have always been pretty low on my priority list. There was always something else going on, something of greater importance. And if I'm honest, women are something that has always fallen just outside my realm of comprehension.

Did I notice girls? Yes. Did I look? Yep. Did I like looking? Sure. Am I a man? Yeah. Did I touch? Not really, but anything I did or didn't do always made me feel guilty and hollow (even before I was…engaged) because they weren't Luna. Our relationship (and sometimes the lack thereof) always complicated things.

I still feel guilty. It gnaws at my insides as I sit here next to Iris. I feel as though I'm being unfaithful, like I am committing some form of sin even though I haven't done anything aside from acknowledging the fact that Iris isn't ugly.

Prompto and Gladio enter the lobby, effectively saving me from myself. I stumble to my feet, trying not to look nervous or guilty but failing miserably. I look about as innocent as a thief as I clear my throat awkwardly and shove my hands in my pockets.

I tense as they approach us. I'm not sure why. I wasn't doing anything.

"Looks like it's past the baby's bedtime," Gladio teases even though Iris isn't conscious enough to defend herself.

He bends over and scoops her up into his arms before carrying her upstairs to the room we rented for the night so we wouldn't have to drive all the way back to Cape Caem.

Seeing that Iris left her shoes behind, I grab them and head up the stairs after Gladio.

I enter the room. Gladio already has Iris tucked in, but he is just sitting on the edge of the bed watching her.

"Hey," I say softly. "She left her shoes."

He points to the nearby dressing table. I do as instructed and place the shoes on its surface.

"Overall, I think tonight was a success." The corner of his mouth curves upward. "Thanks for helping out. I know it meant a lot to her."

"Yeah. Of course." I scratch at the back of my head.

"Now we just gotta beat up that kid Arenea was talking about." He rolls his broad shoulders for effect.

I snort.

"Even if you do beat him up," Ignis begins as he eases the room, "another young man will take his place. These things are inevitable."

"Maybe." Gladio rises to his feet and puts his hands on his hips. "But I can still try to scare off as many as I can." He throws a fist into his waiting palm.

Ignis sighs heavily and shakes his head in a blatant gesture of disapproval, but I can't keep from snickering.

I know Gladio is being overprotective and a bit unreasonable, but I kind of agree with him.