Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret disappeared in early spring, just as the skies opened up in Insomnia and the sylleblossoms at Noctis’ windowsill drooped with new green buds. She’d fallen out of the public eye months before, retreating from the media due to a vague cold that never seemed to go away, but now, King Regis’ intel showed that she had slipped past the empire’s defenses, leading to a quiet, fervent manhunt in the Niflheim countryside. Kingsglaive troops were deployed, but hope was slim. Niflheim was still gripped in an unseasonable winter storm, and no one, not even the Oracle, could escape on their own.

Noct pressed his forehead to the window and watched rain roll down the glass, soaking the sylleblossom bed outside. Ignis and Prompto were tangled together on the couch, brows furrowed as they played an intense round of digital chess on a game pad, and Gladio was coaxing the cat, Somnus, out of where he was sleeping in Noct’s open dishwasher. The rain muffled all sound, making Noct feel as though he were watching them all from a great distance, and he traced the worn spine of Luna’s notebook in both hands.

We’re safe. Two weeks ago, Umbra had delivered the notebook into Noct’s trembling hands, and Noct still couldn’t find a way to write back. Who was we? Luna and Ravus? Reports showed that Ravus was last seen in Accordo, marching through the streets in his own search for Luna. Was it a front? Were they escaping together? Was she talking about Umbra and Pryna?

He sighed and set down the notebook. She was alive, at least. Alive enough to write. He ran his hands through his hair and pushed himself to his feet, but his thoughts were jarred out of order as the door buzzed alarmingly.

“Someone order something?” Prompto asked. Ignis blinked, clearly in a chess-induced daze, and Gladio stood up with an armful of cat, equally confused. Noct shrugged and pulled out his phone. He turned on the security app, which showed the rainswept, miserable concrete path in front of the front doors, where a figure hunched against the storm.

Noct made an ugly, strangled honking sound and dropped his phone at his feet.

“Noct?” Prompto tried to sit up as Ignis tapped at his own phone, pulling up the security app as well. Noct heard Ignis’ bewildered cry as though it were coming through deep water, and lurched for the door like a man possessed.

“Towels,” he said. He swung open the door. “Get towels.”

“Wait,” Prompto said, as Ignis tried to untangle himself, failed, and flopped to the floor. “Wait, that looks like... why does that look like...”

“TOWELS,” Noct honked.

He slammed against the elevator doors just as Ignis, slipping barefoot on the slick hall tile, crashed into the wall. They both stared at each other in a moment of perfect understanding before Ignis punched the down button and gripped Noct by both arms.

“Pull yourself together,” he said. Half his hair was sticking upright, mussed by his encounter with the rug, and there was carpet fluff on his collar.

“Right,” Noct said.

“Holy fucking shit fuck of a mother fuck shit,” Gladio said, sliding into both of them just as the elevator doors ground open. Prompto came fumbling after, stepping over the pile the three of them made, and pressed the ground floor button.

“Oh my gods,” Noct said, from under Gladio’s chest.

“You have to be presentable,” Ignis said. “Gladio, your knee is in my bladder.”

“Fuck,” Gladio said, with feeling, and between the three of them, they managed to drag each other upright by the time the elevator lurched to a stop.

Noct turned haunted eyes to the glass doors.

“Don’t run,” Ignis choked.

“Right,” Noct said. He promptly slipped on a puddle of water one of the other tenants must have trailed in, phased for balance, and went sliding halfway down the hall. Gladio raced after him and hauled him up with one hand, and Prompto and Ignis fell twice, stumbling over each other’s bare feet.

When they finally got to the doors, Noct swung them open to find Lunafreya Nox Fleuret staring at him as though he’d grown two heads.

“Hey,” he said.

“Come inside!” Ignis howled, from where he and Prompto were disengaging a second time.

Luna risked a shaky smile and stepped out of the rain. Her shoulders were still hunched, she wore a heavy tan coat that was probably fashionable once, and her arms were wrapped around a lump that looked like a bundle of scarves. She shook her wet hair out of her eyes and peeled one of the scarves back to reveal a small, pink face.

“Are we alright?” she asked, in a soft voice that only Noct could hear. The baby in her arms scrunched up their face and opened wide blue eyes.

Luna’s eyes.

Luna met Noct’s gaze, adjusted the baby in her arms, and smiled weakly.

“Well, Artemis,” she said, in the shocked, echoing silence of the front hall. “Say hello to Prince Noctis.”

“Aough,” the baby said.

Noct, barefoot, rumpled, and operating on sheer shock alone, fell back on years of ignored etiquette lessons and bowed as though he were greeting a queen. Luna’s smile broadened.

“Aough to you, too,” he said. He looked up at Luna, and his resolve crumpled. “We have towels,” he added. “Upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. “Towels would be wonderful.”

———

After a round of muddled introductions, Luna was given full use of Noct’s bedroom to change into dry clothes while Ignis, Prompto, Gladio and Noct stared at each other in numb silence from across the living room. Every now and then, one of them would open their mouths to say something, think better of it, and fall back into silence. At one point, the baby let out a cry in the other room, and three of them stood up at once, as though their timely intervention could do anything whatsoever.

“She doesn’t like being changed,” Luna shouted through the door. “Also, Noctis. I’m terribly sorry, but we’ll have to throw out your bathroom trash now.”

“Poopsplosion,” Gladio whispered sagely. “Iris used to have those.”

“Oh my gods,” Noct breathed.

Luna emerged a few minutes later, dressed in one of Noct’s long-sleeved skull-patterned sweaters and high jeans that made her look like an actress in one of those old sitcoms Noct’s dad loved to watch. Her hair was still drying in a towel, and Artemis was wearing a red dress and a cloth diaper with tiny dinosaurs on it.

“I’m so sorry to impose,” Luna said.

All four of them protested at once, making Artemis blink and wriggle uncomfortably.

“It’s fine,” Noct said. “It’s totally fine. Um. How did you... is she your... you went all the way from...”

“It’s rather a long story,” Luna admitted. She looked down at the couch. “May I?”

“Of course,” Ignis said, in a squawking voice. “I’ll make tea. New mothers can have tea?”

Luna gave him a blank look. “I... think so?”

“I’ll look it up,” Prompto said, whipping out his phone and accidentally flinging it behind him, where it skidded on the kitchen counter.

“You didn’t have doctors to tell you?” Noct asked, as Prompto scrambled over the couch with a muttered curse. He sat next to her, eyeing Artemis carefully. She eyed him back, watching his every move.

“I... may have been on the run for longer than Niflheim cares to admit,” Luna said. “When I heard the doctors wanted me to, mm, terminate my pregnancy, I spoke to Ravus. I hid in Altissia for a time, but they’d find me eventually. I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering if an imperial aircraft were to drop out of the sky and, and take her, or—“

“No one’s taking anyone,” Noct said, with more heat than he’d intended. Luna placed a hand on his arm.

“I know,” she said. Behind her soft, reassuring smile, Noct saw a hint of steel. “I saw to it. I didn’t even tell Ravus where I was going, though he must suspect.”

“And...” Ignis cleared his throat from where he was steeping the tea. “And the father?”

“Someone I healed,” Luna said, tearing her gaze from Noct. “He won’t know. It wasn’t that sort of... it was... a spur of the...”

“We’re all human, highness,” Ignis said.

“Nothing wrong with it,” Gladio added.

“No one’s judging you,” Noct said, and some of the tension drained from Luna’s face.

“Tell that to Niflheim,” Luna said, but the joke fell flat, and rage boiled in Noct’s stomach. He bit it down—It wouldn’t help anyone to hop in the car and personally punch every high-ranking Nif in the face, however tempting the thought—and held out a hand to Artemis. She examined it thoughtfully and wrapped a pudgy hand around his finger.

“She likes you,” Luna said.

“Huh.” Noct’s throat tightened, and he gently stroked Artemis’ fine hair with his free hand. “I’m. I’m glad you. Glad you came here, Luna.”

“I had to tell you first,” she said. “In person. But I don’t think you... there isn’t anywhere I can get extra, you know. Toiletries? For Artemis?”

“Is that rich people talk for diapers?” Prompto asked.

“Wait,” Gladio said. “We don’t have anything for babies here. Like, we don’t even have a crib—“

“She’s never used one,” Luna said. “I don’t mean to cause trouble, of course—“

“She’s never used a crib,” Ignis said, staring at Gladio.

“We need to get one,” Gladio said.

“Oh, no,” Luna protested. “I really don’t think—“

“Luna.” Noct covered her hand with his own—his other was still being held captive by Artemis. “You came all this way. Tell us what you want, and we’ll go out and get it for you.”

Luna’s breath hitched. She scanned the room, taking in the massive TV, the spotless kitchen, the books scattered next to a half empty bookshelf, the untidy mess that was Noct’s bedroom. She closed her eyes for a moment, and Noct held his own breath, watching her steel herself.

“I want to come with you.”

Which was how Luna ended up in the middle of a 24hr department store, wearing one of Noct’s incognito ball caps and a makeshift sling for Artemis. Artemis, meanwhile, was happily strapped in Prompto’s shopping cart, a soft chocobo plush tucked in to her side and an equally soft moogle hat over her thin hair. She looked at Luna and squealed.

“Yes, baby, I see you,” Luna said. Artemis beamed.

Three more plushes mysteriously found their way into Prompto’s cart.

“This may be a bit much,” Luna warned, as Gladio wheeled his own cart over. All four men had their own shopping cart, and Noct’s was already filled with clothes in Luna’s size, as well as a number of onesies and baby outfits he couldn’t resist taking down. “Is that a turtle costume?”

“Maybe,” Noct said, heat blooming in his cheeks. Luna sighed and patted his arm.

“Hey, Luna,” Gladio said. He held up a box. “You think Artie would like a Magic Bouncing Activity Chair?”

“I mean... she does like to bounce, but...”

Gladio slid the box under the cart.

Artemis started to fuss by the time they found the car seats, which meant the four of them watched Luna in flabbergasted silence as the Oracle of Tenebrae walked in an odd sort of bouncing dance, murmuring to Artemis in a sing-song voice.

Who’s the best girl in the whole wide world? You are! You are!

“Uh.” Prompto sidled up to Noct as Luna lifted Artemis in the air, startling a laugh out of her. “Dude. You need a minute to...” He touched his cheeks. Noct mirrored his movements, and his fingers came back damp. “You’ve been crying since she held your hand at the apartment, man.”

“She’s so small,” Noct whispered, which wasn’t an explanation, not really, but Prompto seemed to get it all the same. He smacked Noct on the back and pretended not to look as Noct hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

Getting Luna to admit she wanted something for herself was like pulling teeth, but when she kept staring wistfully at a sling that doubled as a shield for nursing, Ignis prudently put it in his cart, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off a crib that was made to attach to a bed, easily able to swivel close if need be. She even took a rattle toy without prompting, and didn’t object when Ignis awkwardly took a pump.

The only real trouble came when the six of them made it outside, new umbrellas and all, to realize that they’d driven there in Noct’s cramped, four-person car.

“There’s no way we’re fitting the bouncy chair in there,” Gladio said.

“I’ll call a taxi,” Ignis said. He looked at the carts full of plastic bags. “Several taxis. Noct, can I trust you to get Lunafreya safely home?”

“Course,” Noct said.

It took a good thirty minutes to assemble the car seat. Luna stood over Noct with an umbrella while Prompto held a sleeping Artemis, and when Noct finally managed to secure the damn thing, Gladio and Ignis were already gone.

“Right,” Noct said, as Luna slid into the seat next to a decidedly unhappy, but safely buckled, Artemis. “Lets go home.”

Chapter Text

If one were to ask Noct, later, if he remembered the slow, painfully careful drive back to the apartment, he couldn’t honestly say. It all merged into a blur of streetlights and flashes of Luna’s face, of Prompto leaning with his forehead on the window, of fumbled attempts to unbuckle Artemis in the parking garage. Ignis and Gladio were already at the apartment when they got there, bickering over the construction of the crib, but Luna just passed the crib by, crawled onto Noct’s bed as though she had years of practice, and lay down next to Artemis without so much as a good night.

Noct stared at them for a moment, trying to piece together the disordered chaos of his mind, and turned back to the others. Prompto was unpacking bottles and formula. Ignis had taken over the crib. Gladio had a pack of outlet covers in each hand, and plastic bags lined the entrance of the apartment, filled with bizarre new products with worrying instructions.

“I think we all just panicked,” he said.

“No,” Prompto said. “You think?”

Ignis smiled sidelong. Gladio tried to swipe at his face with a hand and accidentally smacked his own eye with an outlet cover. “Maybe we should get to bed,” Noct said, when Prompto nearly slumped over the bottles. “I mean. Bed-equivalent.”

They made do with the couch. Gladio took up a whole corner to himself, legs draped over the edge, Noct and Prompto ended up sharing the blanket in the middle, and Ignis, who knew more about Noct’s apartment than Noct himself, found extra pillows and constructed the sort of fortress that would have made spoiled princesses in fairytale towers burst into tears. They settled down at last, all four of them, and pretended not to listen for the sound of Artemis waking up in the other room.

“You know,” Ignis whispered at last, just as Noct was starting to drift off. “We probably should have told his majesty first.”

———

Dawn came far too early, cresting apologetically over the Insomnian skyline. Noct kicked Prompto in the knee as Luna, wearing the simple green dress Noct had picked out for her that night, stumbled out of the bedroom with a grumbling Artemis in her arms. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and her feet were bare—Noct caught red lines on her ankles, healed welts from shoes not made for running. He dislodged himself from Prompto and made his way to the kitchen.

“You want breakfast?” he whispered. From his fortress in pillow-town, Ignis sat up with a curious quirk of the brow. “I have eggs. You do eggs?”

Luna smiled, and Noct held his breath. “I’ve been known to do eggs.”

Noct tried not to let the fear show in his eyes. Okay. Eggs. He knew how to cook eggs. He went to the fridge and pulled out a carton, set it down, and reached for a pan. Across the living room, Ignis shook his head, and Noct tentatively took the next one over.

Butter, Ignis mouthed, and Noct lurched for the fridge again.

Artemis, it seemed, had already eaten that morning, since she chose to spit up all over Luna’s shoulder while Noct cracked an egg over the pan with all the care of a surgeon. Luna sighed and wet a rag under the sink.

“I need to remember to put the rag on first,” she whispered, as her eggs popped and hissed. “I’m afraid I’ve been... what’s the term? Roughing it?”

“Close enough,” Noct said. “Do you think these are done?”

Ignis shook his head.

“Maybe?” Luna hefted Artemis into a better position, and the baby reached for Noct, grunting softly. “I’ve never cooked for myself before.”

“I used to be a line cook, you know,” Noct said. Ignis covered his face with a hand. “At a sushi place. I. I made the. The sushi.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m, uh, really self-sufficient that way, you know?”

Someone snorted from the couch, and Noct scraped the eggs onto a plate to cover the sound. He looked down at the plate, then back at Luna. “This looks kind of sad.”

“It looks delicious,” Luna said, taking the plate. “Thank you.”

Noct’s phone vibrated, and he glanced down, hurriedly read the message from Ignis, and gestured behind him.

“And there’s fruit in the fridge,” he announced.

Luna blinked.

“Gods fucking save us,” Ignis said.

Artemis grunted and leaned towards Noct again, and Luna set down her plate. “Do you want to hold her while I eat?”

“S-sure.” It wasn’t like Noct hadn’t held babies before. There was at least one baby at every bullshit political event he had to attend when his dad wasn’t feeling well—It was practically a rule. Still, he took more care than usual, gently propping Artemis’ head on his arm, and looked down at her wide, curious eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered, as Luna retrieved her plate of sad eggs. The baby grunted again. “Yeah, that’s cool. I get it.”

He drifted towards the window. Ignis was reluctantly extricating himself from pillow-town to make a proper breakfast, and Prompto was asleep, but he could feel Gladio’s gaze on him as he pointed to the violet light of the Citadel.

“That’s where I grew up,” he said. Artemis watched his face with rapt fascination. “I guess you’ll see it up close soon. Once, Iggy and I tried to climb to the roof and touch the light making up the Wall, right, and Iggy had his hand like five feet away when this Glaive dropped out of nowhere—“

“Noctis.” Ignis cuffed Noct lightly on the back of the head as he passed. “I refuse to let you besmirch my name to the princess of Tenebrae.” Noct glanced down at Artemis, then back at Luna, and Ignis’ mouth twisted slightly.

“Neither of us are,” Luna said, from where she was trying to discreetly season the eggs. “Niflheim took my title, and my heir’s father would need to be from the Book of Gold to be legitimate. Silver, possibly.”

“Glad we don’t list our nobles,” Gladio said. He sat down at the table with a box of cereal. “My dating pool would be... Iggy. And that girl. The one with the teeth.”

“Don’t call her that,” Ignis said. “Her teeth are just fine.”

“She said this,” Gladio said, gesturing to his hair, “is a mullet.”

There was a long, uncomfortable pause as everyone except Artemis contemplated Gladio’s hair. Luna squinted thoughtfully.

“Anyways,” Gladio said. “We don’t have those books here. Maybe a page.”

“A paragraph,” Noct said, grinning. Artemis grinned back, and Noct glanced around before experimentally booping her nose. “The only reason I’m not officially a commoner right now is ‘cause magic runs in the family.”

“Lucky you,” Luna drawled. For a moment, Noct could almost hear Ravus in her voice. She blushed faintly and took a bite rather than continue.

Noct wondered what that must have been like, growing up in Tenebrae. He’d read all about the rules of succession there—At fifteen, when Noct found himself cutting up Luna’s press photos to put in a frame at three in the morning and had a minor bisexual crisis, he’d been disappointed to learn that Tenebrae would have opposed any match between them, since Noct’s mother was a commoner and Tenebraean lines of nobility went through the mother’s side as much as the father’s. Now he thought of Luna reading through those books as a kid, memorizing the right kind of people, and wondered if she’d ever resented it. If she wanted something more.

Artemis hiccuped, gearing up for a cry, and Noct bounced her a little in her arms.

“She’d be a princess here, anyways,” he said. He glanced up, and blushed to his ears when he met Luna’s sharp gaze. “Sorry. That was probably. Sorry.”

“He wasn’t housetrained,” Prompto said, sitting backwards on his chair next to Luna.

“No.” Luna swiped at her messy hair. “It’s... it was kind of you. Thank you.”

Artemis, who was well out of conversations about succession, nobility, and any books that couldn’t be chewed-on, took that moment to realize with a start of horror that Noct, in fact, was not Mom. She burst into hysterical, furious tears, and the entire apartment became a mess of milling guys while Luna took her sobbing daughter.

“Aw, baby,” she said. “I’m right he—ah.” She grimaced. “Straight for the breast, I see. Well, I know what I’m here for. Excuse me, gentlemen.”

“Do you need help?” Noct asked. Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto stared at him with varying degrees of shock, but Luna just laughed.

HELP? Ignis mouthed.

I DON’T KNOW, I PANICKED, Noct mouthed back.

“You can keep me company, if you don’t mind,” Luna said.

Noct shot the guys another terrified look when Luna’s back was turned. Gladio flapped his hands. Ignis had fallen into Prompto’s hold, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, and Prompto was beet red and grinning.

“You broke him,” Prompto whispered.

Noct flipped them all a rude gesture and disappeared into his bedroom with Luna, who shut the door with her heel. The lights were off, and only a single ray of sun shone through the curtains, a stripe of light dividing the bed in two. Luna sat on one side, positioning her back to the padded headboard, and eased an arm out of her sleeve. Noct froze.

“It’s a breast, Noctis,” Luna said. “Not a bomb. Sit down. Tell me what you and Regis have been up to.”

“Uh.” Noct slid onto the bed next to her. She winced, adjusted Artemis, and hiked up a knee to get comfortable, and Noct forced himself to stare at the opposite wall. “I don’t know,” he said. “Dad’s okay.”

“I missed him. He always knew how to make Mother laugh,” Luna said. “I used to listen to his speeches in Niflheim. It made me feel like there was a friend in the room.” Noct brushed his shoulder against hers, and Luna leaned some of her weight against him.

“He’ll probably cry when he sees you,” Noct said. “Not in the throne room or anything, but when no one’s watching. He’ll be a mess.”

“Nothing like you,” Luna said, with a half smile.

“Yeah, heart of stone right here.”

“Do you think he’ll be... alarmed?” she asked. “About...”

“He won’t judge,” Noct said. “I don’t think so, anyways. My grandma had Mom when she was a teenager, did you know?” Luna frowned slightly. “Dad pretty much grew up with Mom. He used to say she taught him more about being a king than his own dad did. She wouldn’t‘ve let him turn into an asshole.”

“I would have liked to have met her,” Luna said, in a soft voice. “She sounds like a lovely person.”

“Yeah,” Noct said. “I guess she was.”

———

Regis Lucis Caelum was not the sort of man to let his emotions show in polite company. He’d spent a good half of a lifetime struggling to keep his tone even, his face schooled in an expression of bland disinterest, his smile faint and unknowing. He’d agonized during etiquette lessons and practiced careful speeches with his wife in the early years of his rule. He knew the consequences of appearing even minutely out of order, and had fought against using so much as a cane for years.

Which was why Clarus Amicitia was surprised to see Regis stand up in the middle of a meeting, sending the rest of his council into hushed silence.

“I’m afraid I must...”

The council waited, breathless, as Regis’ cheeks paled. He curled his fist around his phone, and Clarus dug in his uniform for his own cell. A string of messages greeted him, all from Gladio, and he discreetly checked them under the table.

He stopped, squinted, and read them again.

“Your majesty?” someone asked.

“It’s a matter of state,” Clarus blurted. The eyes of the council turned his way, and Regis raised his brows. “I failed to inform him. We’ll have to go now if there’s any chance of making it in time—Medea, if you could carry on, please.”

He ushered Regis out of the room, at which point Regis grabbed Clarus by both arms with a strength Clarus could have sworn had long since left him.

“They’re on the way,” Regis said. His voice shook dangerously. “Call a doctor. Make the necessary arrangements. How is my hair.”

“Your hair’s fine, Reg.” Clarus suppressed a smile. “How’s mine?”

“Oh, to hell with you,” Regis said, covering his mouth with one hand. “I’ll meet them in the... the throne room, she deserves the throne room—“

“Try to compose yourself, Reg.”

“I’m perfectly composed,” Regis said. Clarus gave him a long, slow look, and he cursed. “Damn, now I’ll have to climb those blasted stairs.”

Clarus didn’t bother reminding him that he didn’t have to—For Regis, there were certain ways things had to be done, and meeting the Oracle of Tenebrae required the throne. Clarus sighed and called Cor as they slowly made their way to the throne room, Regis’ face an open book for anyone to see.

Chapter Text

Luna barely remembered her father.

The Royal Consort to Queen Sylva Fleuret was a Tenebraean noble of the finest degree, with official portraits, country homes Luna wasn’t allowed to visit, and an entire stable of rare black chocobos. Ravus vaguely remembered his face, but based on his dim memory and Sylvia’s dismissal of all Luna’s questions on the subject, Luna suspected soon enough that he’d only stuck around to ensure the line of succession was secure. Luna had grown up under the watchful eye of her mother, then under the far more wary eye of the empire, and she’d learned not to put much stock in the opinions of older men.

But when Luna entered the Citadel to find Regis sitting on the bottom steps of the throne, an unfamiliar yearning twisted in her chest. She thought of Regis’ hand in hers, the fond way he’d looked at Noct when they visited Tenebrae, his invitation for Ravus to join him for chess that ended with him and Luna duking it out with two queens and a handful of pawns left over. He stood, a little unsteady with his silver-tipped cane, and Luna held Artemis to her shoulder to bow properly. Regis bowed his head back, and Artemis ruined the moment somewhat by shoving Luna’s hair in her mouth.

“Your majesty,” Luna said. “It’s good to see you well.”

Regis’ eyes crinkled in a smile, and Artemis yanked on Luna’s hair. She winced, and he covered his mouth, too polite to smile in front of Luna’s motley honor guard.

“It’s been too long,” Regis said. He held out a hand, and Luna embraced him, breathing in the scent of his shaving cream and freshly-laundered suit. Artemis burbled in confusion, and Regis somberly took her hand. “And is this the little one Noctis told me so much about?”

“Would you like to hold her?” Luna searched his eyes, but where Luna had taught herself the art of diplomacy in the rat’s nest of Niflheim’s imperial court, Regis had been raised to it. Nothing flickered behind his eyes—No shame. No disappointment, however brief. She would have to brace for it in private, then; The inevitable questions, the sidelong looks, the cold withdrawal. It was only a matter of time.

Regis just took Artemis with all the competence of a seasoned politician, and laughed when Artemis discovered that beards were frankly terrifying up close. Luna hurriedly took her back, and while Artemis hiccuped and sobbed in horror, a massive man in black and gold stepped out from the shadows behind Regis, ducked down, and pulled a ridiculous face.

“Oh gods,” Gladio said, somewhere behind her.

“Did the mean old king scare you?” Hearing the Clarus Amicitia’s ominous baritone utilized for baby talk seemed to shock Artemis as much as Luna—They both stared at him in flabbergasted silence as he passed a hand over his face, crossing his eyes and grimacing like a theater mask. Artemis smiled, and he scrunched up his cheeks. The resulting baby shriek of laughter echoed off the rafters of the throne room, and Clarus stood up with a thoroughly satisfied air.

“There we go, your majesty,” he said. “You just have to know how to talk to them.”

There wasn’t much use standing around in the throne room after that. They retreated to a set of suites that reminded Luna of her manor in Tenebrae—Gold-framed paintings, expensive curtains, woven wallpaper—which Noct told her used to be where he lived with Regis before he moved to the apartment. Now, Regis lived there alone, and Luna couldn’t help but think of her own rare visits to the manor, walking through empty rooms that had once rung with voices, schoolrooms and studied that held ghosts of lectures past, massive gardens with no hands but her own to tend them. Impulsively, she pressed her hand in Regis’, and his eyes crinkled again in that quiet smile.

“I took the liberty of calling a doctor,” he said, as Luna helped him to a seat on an ornate couch. Noct flung himself into a worn chaise lounge on the opposite side, and Regis didn’t even blink at the creak of mahogany. “The same one who assisted my wife after Noctis was born. Just in case you had any concerns—I don’t mean to presume, but if you’ve been on the road for some time...”

“That’s lovely,” Luna said, struggling to rein in her excitement. She hadn’t spoken to a real doctor in months, and had too many questions to count. Why did she still have to pee all the time? Why did her breasts leak so much at first? Was she feeding Artemis wrong? Should they still be leaking? How much was too much leaking? Why did everything have to leak, always? What the hell happened to her vagina?

It took Luna a moment to realize that the conversation had moved on without her. She glanced around, trying to piece together who had spoken last and why, and Regis leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“She’ll be here in about an hour.”

“Thank you,” Luna whispered back.

Clarus monopolized Artemis, going so far as to unhook Regis’ silk cape to play a convoluted game of peek-a-boo, while Gladio tried not to seem mortified at his father’s behavior and Regis barely restrained a look of envy. Prompto kept fiddling with his wristband and calling Regis “your majesty,” but Ignis, of all people, seemed perfectly at home. He sat casually on the chaise next to Noct, even teased Regis for his beard once or twice, and was allowed to get up and wander out of the room without a by-your-leave. Luna excused herself, checked to make sure Artemis was too distracted to realize that she was leaving, and slipped into the next room after him.

The adjoining room was practically a library, with shelves stretching floor to ceiling along three walls and a massive reading chair by a floor lamp. Ignis ran his fingers along the spines, so familiar with the shelves that he didn’t bother stopping to search, and tugged a well-worn paperback off the shelf.

“You know these rooms well,” Luna said. Ignis started a little, and cast her a tight half smile.

“Well enough. This was almost a second home. I was commissioned to this post as a child,” he added, when Luna’s brows raised. “My parents thought it would benefit us if I made connections in the Citadel.”

“As a boy?” Luna recalled the noble children who had filled the drawing rooms of the manor when she was very young. They’d all been from enterprising families, and they looked at Luna with the singular hunger of athletes scrambling over each other for a prize. Luna had despised it. She’d disappeared to speak to Gentiana more often than not, and as the empire closed in, her new friends found she wasn’t quite worth the risk. She couldn’t imagine Ignis being one of those children.

“That was the plan, in any case.”
Ignis pulled down another book. “My mother was terribly disappointed when I decided to emancipate myself instead. I’ve been banned from family gatherings since, just like my no-good uncle.” His smile took on a sharper edge. “Noctis inspires a unique brand of loyalty. Haven’t you noticed? We’re all bound to him in some way.”

“He’s lucky,” Luna said. The closest friend she’d had in that vein had always been Noct. Or Pryna and Umbra, but she supposed magical dogs weren’t meant to be counted. “To have people like you on his side.”

“You inspire the same sort of loyalty, it seems,” Ignis said. “You’ve been here less than a day, and here we are.”

Luna couldn’t stop her face from falling. Here it was. She supposed Ignis would be kind about it, at least. She’d appeared without warning on Noctis’ doorstep with an illegitimate child, and what had she expected? For everyone to say, Oh, it’s fine, Lunafreya, it’s what’s to be expected from a fallen princess in any case, what else is a deposed Oracle meant to do with her time? They’d had a lapse of judgment last night, that was all, and they were waking up to the realization that Luna was simply too much trouble—

“Forgive me,” Ignis said, shaking her out of her thoughts. He raised his free hand. “I meant that we wouldn’t do all this for just anyone. You know that, don’t you?”

Luna held her breath. The other shoe hadn’t dropped yet. Not yet. Not yet.

“I don’t,” she said at last. “Perhaps you’re simply all secretly good people.”

Ignis brushed a stray strand of hair from his eyes. Artemis shrieked with joy in the other room, and echoes of the others’ laughter trickled in as Clarus lifted her high. “Perhaps.”

———

“She has to be the healthiest baby I’ve seen in my life,” Doctor Halman said, as she and Luna left the office where Regis held most of his medical checkups. The doctor had the same curly black hair Noct remembered from his own childhood visits to her clinic, and her eyes were bright with good humor. He leaned over from where he was playing a game on the phone with Prompto to get a better look. “But don’t go around doing that—“ she waggled her hand, “nonsense every time she sneezes. I told her majesty the same thing; Magic is all well and good, but vaccines exist for a reason. I’ll see you in two days?”

“Yes, of course.” Luna was smiling wider than she had all day. “And the thing with the—“

“Perfectly normal.”

“Thank gods.”

Luna actually kissed the doctor’s cheeks in farewell, and sighed heavily as the doctor stopped to have a word with Regis on her way out. She caught Noct looking, and smiled crookedly before he could duck his head out of view.

“Worried about me?” she asked. Noct’s mouth gaped open, and she strode over to ruffle his hair. “Artemis is sleeping on your father’s day bed. I hope he doesn’t mind?”

“Okay, I have to see this,” Prompto whispered, rousing from what Noct was pretty sure was a game-induced fugue state. He lurched for the office, and Luna grabbed his arms and whispered in his ear. “I won’t wake her up! Promise!”

Luna finally let him go, and Noct’s phone immediately started vibrating. He looked down at the screen, huffed out a laugh, and put it away.

“He says she’s cute,” he said. His phone vibrated again. “Like, twenty times.”

“Bless him.” Luna sat next to Noct, pressing her shoulder to his side. Alarmed, Noct gave his father a questioning look before he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Regis’ mouth didn’t so much as twitch, but Noct knew his dad well enough to know he wasn’t going to let him live that down for a while. Regis sighed and leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees.

“Lunafreya,” he said. “There’s one matter I’d like to discuss.”

Noct felt Luna stiffen under his arm. “Of course.”

“Now.” Regis smoothed out his moustache. A nervous habit—Noct barely resisted quirking an eyebrow at him. “You are, of course, welcome to stay in the Citadel. We have suites available, and a suitable nursery. Not to mention the daycare on the fifth floor. But if you would prefer to have your own lodgings, I can arrange—“

“There’s my place, too,” Noct said. “I can turn the spare room into Luna’s, and I don’t really use the office anymore, so we can make that Artemis’ room...”

“We have a million spare rooms at our place,” Gladio said.

“That’s true enough,” Clarus said, seemingly unbothered by Gladio’s invitation. “Jared’s been saying he misses having kids running about the place, now that Talcott’s off to school.”

“I live two blocks from Noctis,” Ignis said. “But I do have enough to rent the next apartment over.”

Luna had gone still, and Noct felt her hand clench into a fist at his side.

“Well,” Regis said. “You certainly have options. You don’t have to make any decisions yet—“

“I could stay with Noctis,” Luna said. Her cheeks colored slightly, “For a little while. I do have dogs,” she added, twisting to look at Noct. “I didn’t want to bring in a menagerie, but they’ve been waiting for me to call them, and Artemis does love them...”

“Luna.” Noct reached over to take her clenched hand, and slowly pried it open enough to thread her fingers in his. “You know I’d have, like, fifty dogs if I could.”

“And seven cats,” Gladio said.

“Oh, shit. They’re not weird with cats, are they?” Noct asked. “I have Somnus, but he just sleeps in the dishwasher all day.”

“Noctis, sometimes I do worry about that creature,” Regis said.

“He likes the way it feels, Dad.”

Luna squeezed Noct’s fingers. “I’m sure Umbra and Pryna will be fine,” she said.

“Then it’s settled,” Regis said. “One more thing, Luna, while we have a moment. Is there anything you require? I believe a shopping trip may be in order.”

“I saw an adorable bouncing activity station for sale online,” Clarus said, gesturing to his phone.

“Oh my gods,” Noct whispered.

“Dad, no,” Gladio said.

“I’m only saying,” Clarus protested, as Luna, still wrapped in Noct’s arm, raised her free hand to her eyes and laughed.

Chapter Text

The apartment was almost too quiet by the time Noct navigated the roar of mid-afternoon traffic with a squalling Artemis in the backseat. Prompto had mandatory watch duty with the Crownsguard, and Gladio and Ignis had their own obligations, so Noct had no one to make the presence of Luna standing over the brand new changing table less overwhelming. He tried to distract Artemis with a chocobo plush while Luna dodged wriggling limbs to change her, and Artemis howled at the indignity of having to wear clothes.

Somnus, stirred from his eternal snooze-fest in the kitchen, hopped onto a bookshelf over Noct’s shoulder and stared, tail swishing.

“Do you think the dogs’ll help?” Noct asked, as Artemis kicked out, outraged by the existence of diapers in general and disposable diapers in particular. Luna shrugged and let out a low whistle. There was a shuffling sound in the hallway, and Noct turned as two dogs surged across the wooden floors, nails clacking frantically. They nuzzled Luna—Noct smiled as Umbra spared him a passing bump of a cold, wet nose against his hand—and propped their chins on the edge of the changing table.

Artemis, too alarmed to cry, stared owlishly at them and reached out a small hand for Pryna’s nose.

“I need to give her a routine,” Luna said later, as she walked around the living room in Noct’s slippers, trying to get Artemis to settle down for a nap. Pryna followed them, curly tail raised like a banner, but Umbra was lying next to Noct, watching them while Noct pored through reports from the Citadel. “It isn’t right to keep going as though we’re still on the road. Mr. Amicitia gave me some advice, and I think it may be for the best to have some structure.”

“Sure,” Noct said. “I can get that. Want to write something up?”

“When she can get to sleep, certainly.”

Noct smiled sidelong. “Bet I can get her to sleep. Artemis, wanna hear about crop rotation in the farming district?”

“Don’t you dare,” Luna said, all mock horror, and Noct ducked his head. “Do you want to walk with her? I can read your reports aloud—If they aren’t classified, of course.”

They probably were, but Noct eased himself out of the chair anyways. He passed the papers to Luna, who passed him the baby in turn, and he started awkwardly walking around the living room while Luna sat down with his notes, shuffling them slowly.

“You write in the margins,” she said. “And it’s color-coded by... time?”

“That last part was Ignis’ idea,” Noct said. Artemis lay her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I used to get my priorities mixed up a little in high school, so everything’s split up.”

“There’s quite a bit of it,” Luna said.

“Dad’s... kind of tired lately.” Noct fumbled around the familiar lie—Seeing his father grip his cane just to stand up that afternoon had been tougher than he thought—but Luna didn’t comment on it. She just turned to the right page, skimmed the contents, and started to read.

Artemis fell asleep thirty minutes later, lulled to unconsciousness by a proposition on construction in the lower city. Pryna and Umbra curled up to sleep under the crib, and Somnus climbed into the crib itself to curl up next to her. Luna sat on the bed, still holding Noct’s reports, and waved Noct over.

Prompto would have jumped on the bed immediately. Ignis would have pulled up a chair. Gladio would probably have been on the bed already. Noct hesitated a moment, unsure what boundary he was currently sidling past, and settled with his back against the headboard.

“I wrote some notes of my own,” Luna whispered, and tapped the reports with a pencil. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hey, any help is appreciated,” Noct whispered back. He skimmed over Luna’s neat, looping handwriting. “You pick up on Lucian politics fast.”

“Well, I did say I listened to the radio.” Luna eased down the pillows a little, and Noct’s heartbeat jumped into his throat. “And Mother taught me to read between the lines.”

Noct took a deep breath. Luna’s notes were drastically different than Ignis’ or Noct’s resident clerk at the Citadel—She’d probably end up debating the budget with Ignis well into the night if he knew—but they stirred some of the stagnant theories in Noct’s mind. He rearranged a few of the stickers to remind himself when he came back to it, and Luna leaned on his shoulder, watching him.

“I’m probably going to take the throne soon,” Noct said. It was the first time he’d said it out loud. With the others, it has always been, in a few years, or when the time comes, a cautious dance around the terrible truth. Now, Noct felt laid bare, a wound peeled back to the open air.

“I know.”

“Read between the lines today, huh?” Noct whispered. Luna slid her arm under his and trailed her fingers to his palm. He set the papers down between them, and Luna took his hand in a firm grip. He could feel her fingers against the place where Noct would one day wear his father’s ring, and could almost picture it, black and heavy against their intertwined hands.

“I wonder if having time to anticipate your life changing is worse,” Luna said. She stared at the ceiling, her gaze distant. “I always felt so safe at the manor. Tenebrae was neutral ground—we had an arrangement, tentative though it was. Mother’s death was... I rather think Ravus and I have lived in shock ever since. There’s nothing concrete to hold onto.” She looked at Artemis, breathing softly with Somnus as a warm, purring body pillow at her side, and pinched her lips together. “When you know what you have to lose, and when you may lose it...”

“I don’t think it’s better or worse,” Noct said. He squeezed Luna’s hand. “But maybe you’ll have something to hold onto now. Maybe you can feel safe again. One day.”

“Maybe,” Luna said. She rolled towards Noct, and she lifted his hand and brushed her lips against his knuckles. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Noct breathed, as her eyes closed, hand still tight in hers. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, all too aware of the heat blazing in his cheeks like a beacon for all to see, and drew back. “Any time.”

———

“Dude,” Prompto said, as Noct and Luna appeared at the door to the apartment complex the next morning. “The fuck.”

“Look, we worked with what we had,” Noct snapped, hanging onto Umbra and Pryna’s leashes for dear life. He was dressed in his usual incognito gear—puffy vest, ball cap, and ragged jeans—but Luna had tied her hair back in a chunky braid, was wearing one of Noct’s old beanies from eighth grade, a checkered sweater of Cor’s that had been left during an impromptu family dinner one day and forgotten, a new skirt patterned with roses, and a pair of Ignis’ left-over sunglasses. Together, they gave off the look of people who’d woken up at one in the morning to a screaming baby, had been peed on twice, and consequentially lost the will to dress for anything but comfort.

Which was technically true.

“Right,” Prompto said. He leaned over to wave at Artemis, who was half asleep in her sling, and straightened. “Well, I’m your Crownsguard for the day, so lead on, your highness.”

Luna looked from him to Noct, brow furrowed.

“He means you,” Noct said. “I’m never highness.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t count,” Prompto said. Luna smiled faintly, and Prompto took her arm in his. “So. Where are we headed?”

Noct silently sent a prayer of thanks for whoever assigned Prompto as they started off down the sidewalk towards the park. Luna fell into step with him as though they were old friends, laughing at his shitty puns and gamely going along with his attempt to teach Artemis how to fist bump. Noct, meanwhile, was left trying to wrangle two dogs who didn’t believe in leash laws or the laws of physics, and found himself holding two empty leashes while Umbra and Pryna gamboled around Luna like a pair of excitable puppies. Artemis giggled and cooed at them, and when Luna looked back at Noct, her face was bright and untroubled for the first time since she’d come to his door.

Prompto followed her look with a raised eyebrow, and Noct flushed red and gave him a short, sharp gesture to cut it the fuck out. Prompto winked back, which wasn’t exactly reassuring.

The park was still recovering from the torrential rain, with patches of sidewalk covered in dead worms that hadn’t quite made it back to land and mulch scattered over the grass, but the roses were blooming by the hedge maze, and Luna was in her element. She lectured them on grafting and grubs and the tiny little creatures that tore through sylleblossoms like a plague, and spent a solid fifteen minutes examining a patch of small red flowers that apparently could only grow in Insomnia. When Artemis started to fuss again, Luna sat down on a bench surrounded by a massive cherry tree and lifted her oversized sweater.

“Oh my gods,” Prompto squeaked, and Noct grabbed him by the shoulder.

“It’s just a boob,” he whispered. “Be cool.”

“I am cool.”

“Yeah, well, be cooler.”

“You’re both children,” Luna said, in a fond, exasperated voice, and Noct and Prompto froze. “How on earth did you manage to date each other in high school? Was it all done through hand signals? Code?”

Noct swiped a hand over his face and sat down next to her. Artemis was practically hidden by Cor’s sweater, which was definitely too large for Luna, but he still kept his gaze firmly above her shoulders. “We got by.”

“He kissed me behind the gym,” Prompto said, too nervous to sit on her other side. “No warning. Just hey, Prompto, here’s some tongue.”

“There wasn’t tongue.”

“There was the promise of tongue. Sorry, Luna,” Prompto said. “You’re living with a caveman.”

“Really.” Luna gave Noct an arch look, and he groaned behind his hands. “And how did you... Noct told me some of this, but you two and Gladio and Ignis, you’re...”

“Well, Iggy and I were dating pretty early,” Prompto said, counting on his fingers. “Like, taking you home to the folks and getting chewed-out for not marrying someone rich early. Gladio and Noct got together, and I was like, hey, that’s fine, and Ignis had a thing for Noct since forever, and me and Gladio get along okay—“

“Meet the parents kind of okay,” Noct muttered.

“And Gladio and Ignis are pretty much married.”

“I think I may need a map,” Luna said.

“You already made one,” Noct pointed out, scratching Umbra behind the ears. “When it all started. In the notebook.” Luna blushed pink, and Prompto grinned.

“Really?”

“She called it the Royal Harem,” Noct said, and Prompto let out a snort of laughter.

“Nah, it’s more like a royal mess. You’ll see.”

“And your parents are alright with this?” Luna asked.

Prompto shrugged. “They think I’m dating Ignis right now. Gladio’s dad just wants grandchildren, so he figures he has like, three chances for an adoption. Ignis’ parents are, uh.”

“Not so understanding,” Noct said. Luna’s mouth twisted slightly.

“Ah.”

“And there’s precedent where I’m concerned,” Noct said. “Not that Dad didn’t think I was starting a harem for a minute there. I’ll need to get married to someone officially, though.”

“Ugh.” Prompto collapsed next to Luna. “I don’t envy whoever gets that job. Royals in Insomnia never have any fun.”

“Wow, Prompto.”

Luna adjusted Artemis a little and stretched out her legs. “Royals in general don’t have fun, unless you’re one of the Niflheim nobles,” she said. “The emperor’s daughter spends most of her time holding salons. Which she invited me to once,” she added. She patted Prompto on the cheek with her free hand. “So you’re a little out of luck, dearheart. This does all explain how well you’ve received my... news, though.”

Prompto, beet red and wide-eyed, cast Noct a curious look. “What news?”

“Prompto,” Luna said, in a dry voice. “I would like you to meet my daughter, Artemis.”

“Oh. Oh, wait, were we supposed to take that badly?” Prompto asked. He blinked at Noct. “Is that a thing? Why is that a thing? What’s bad about her? She isn’t sick, is she?”

Luna stared at Prompto, dumbstruck, and Noct grinned, propping his chin on his hand.

“Now you see why we keep him around,” Noct said, just loud enough for Prompto to hear. Prompto sputtered, blushing darker still, but before he could tackle Noct from the other side of the bench, Luna cleared her throat, stopping both of them in their tracks.

“Yes,” she said, and lay a hand on Prompto’s knee. “I think I do.”

Chapter Text

Working early.
Dad’s got this thing.
Gladio’s coming by this afternoon if you want to go somewhere. Breakfast in box.
hug Art for me
hope you have a
See you
Noct

Luna carefully folded the paper pinned to a box of breakfast pastries, readjusted Artemis in her sling, and sighed. The Noctis who could write detailed, scribbled notes in the margins of government reports was, apparently, the same Noctis who couldn’t write the word hug without the risk of spontaneous combustion. His stilted responses and clipped sentences in their notebook had concerned her as a girl, but she’d learned that Noct just didn’t have the language to write his emotions down on paper. It came out in other ways, between the fragmented sentences and carefully-applied stickers, and Luna considered how long it must have taken Noct to write that one note.

She checked the trash in the kitchen. Crumpled notepaper carried a coffee cup like a cresting wave.

“Oh, Noctis,” she said.

She wrote a quick note of her own on the back of his message and took a few bites of a cherry pastry before setting it in the fridge for later. Then, content in her disguise of Noct’s comfortable skull-print sweater, a beanie, and soft jeans with a hidden elastic band, Luna pushed open the apartment door and whistled for her dogs.

Umbra charged through first, stopping to tap his paws expectantly on the carpet. “Find Ravus,” Luna said. “Tell him I’m safe. And make sure he’s eating something,” she added, before Umbra could turn aside.

Umbra’s tail whipped the air as he raced down the hall, disappearing through the wall with a joyous bark. Luna glanced down at Pryna, who was sniffing Artemis through the sling.

“Let’s go, then.”

Insomnia was a different creature in the thin shadows of the early morning. There were slews of uniformed students whispering and chatting in clustered groups as they walked to school, while adults wove between them with practiced ease. A few young teenagers slowed down as they passed Luna to wave at Artemis and ask for her name, and Pryna was the center of a group of elementary school kids’ universe within half a minute. She preened as half a dozen kids reverently stroked her fur, and Luna smiled down at her shoes. It was the reason she always took Pryna to healings in the countryside—while children were understandably nervous around the Oracle, they were too distracted by Pryna pulling the puppy charm to notice when Luna discreetly healed them.

The kids all waved goodbye to Pryna when the light turned green, and Luna lifted Artemis’ hand to wave back. Artemis, still dazed with sleep and food and a little overwhelmed by the crowds, made a burbling noise.

“Oh.” Luna stepped towards the curb, and one of the children on the other side of the street turned to stare. “Can you tell me where the library is?”

“42nd!” one of the children shouted.

“By the sushi place!”

“Your dog’s super soft!”

“Thank you,” Luna called back, and turned to Pryna. “I think you might need to make yourself scarce when we get there, girl.”

Pryna rolled her eyes and pranced on ahead, tail wagging madly.

By the time Luna made her way back to the apartment, it was well past noon, Artemis was absolutely done being fed and changed in library bathrooms and walked around in a sling, and Pryna was insufferably smug. She’d generated a crowd outside the library while Luna juggled Artemis and wrote notes from heavy binders at the same time, and was still riding off the high of too many head-scritches to count.

“You’re not to lord it over Umbra,” Luna warned, pressing the key code for the apartment doors. “I’ll know if you do.”

Pryna only grinned.

Artemis was howling in frustration by the time the elevator reached the top floor, and the doors barely had time to open before Luna saw Gladio standing at Noct’s apartment, holding a phone to his ear.

“Thank fuck,” he said. “Nevermind. False alarm. Lunafreya.”

“Gladiolus,” Luna said, a little hesitantly. “Excuse me. Artemis is...”

“Right,” Gladio said. His face was fixed in a grim expression, brows lowered dangerously, but he stepped aside and let Luna through. Artemis quieted for a moment when she saw the apartment, but then she started sobbing again, fists balled in fury.

“Is it a sunburn?” Luna asked. She pressed her forehead to Artemis’ and let her magic rise to her skin. Artemis wasn’t sick, at least. Maybe it was her diaper.

Luna ignored the gathering stormcloud that was Gladio in the foyer and walked Artemis to the bedroom.

“Oh, I just changed you!” she cried, when the almighty disaster was revealed. Artemis frowned at her. “I just changed you. How did you do this? Where did this come from?”

“Something wrong?” Gladio’s voice was a low rumble at the door. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

“Help me,” Luna said.

“Right. Right.”

Between the two of them, they managed to get Artemis cleaned up, changed, and scowling darkly with her stuffed moogle toy jingling a soft lullaby in the corner of her crib. Luna washed her hands with scalding water and collapsed in the chair Noct had dragged in from the living room the night before.

“Well,” Gladio said. “That was... a lot.”

“I didn’t think bowel movements would be such a pivotal part of parenting,” Luna said.

“It’s a thing, yeah,” Gladio said. He leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed right over his chest. His tattoos were darker in the dim light of Noct’s bedroom, and they seemed to shift as he moved, like real feathers ruffling under his skin.

“About today,” Gladio said. “You know you can’t just go out on your own.”

Luna straightened. She felt a familiar prickle of the skin at her back, the bristling edge that came with every imperial squad assigned to her, every missive sent to remind her that her movements were being recorded, every shadow of imperial ships gliding over her hiding places on the road. “I’m quite capable on my own,” she said. Gladio’s gaze slid from her to the floor at her side.

“You’re under our protection here,” he said. “If the empire finds out, they could send people to—“

“You think they haven’t in the past?” Luna asked.

Gladio blinked in alarm. “What?”

“Gladiolus.” Luna leaned forward on her knees, and Gladio straightened his shoulders, involuntarily uncrossing his arms. “Do you honestly think the emperor hasn’t considered why he should keep a symbol of sedition alive? Because that’s what I am in Tenebrae. Simply existing is enough of an act of resistance, for some.”

“But they didn’t—-Maybe you had—“ Gladio pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. But if Noct’s had a guard since he was ten, you can’t—“

“I survived in Niflheim without protection since I was twelve,” Luna said. Gladio blanched, and she suppressed a pang of pity. She understood that it wasn’t his fault—She knew why a guard was necessary—But a small part of her railed against the fact that this had been decided without her, that someone had drafted up guard details without so much as a by-your-leave. “How do you think I did that? Magitech soldiers don’t back down because of a charming smile. It takes twice as much force to break the neck of an assassin MT than it does to kill a human, and the empire liked to slip one or two in my honor guard from time to time. I won my first public duel at thirteen. I can and will defend myself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Gladio said. His voice was softer than Luna expected, but he remained at attention, a soldier expecting orders.

“We’ll let Artemis sleep for a while,” Luna said at last, when Gladio’s drifting gaze slid to hers again. “But after that, you and I will need to continue this conversation. Perhaps we should invite anyone else who feels the same.”

“Fuck,” Gladio whispered. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes ma’am.”

The practice courts of Insomnia were far wider and more comfortable than those in Niflheim, with murals blanketing the high ceilings and built-in padding on the floors. Luna took off her shoes while Ignis, dressed in a fine black suit and polished shoes, tried to get Artemis to latch onto a bottle.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Noct asked. He sat in a chair by the wall, massaging his knee, while Gladio paced nervously in the center of the room. “I mean, I know you can fight.”

“Not well enough, it seems,” Luna said. Noct bristled. “Well? When were you going to tell me I had a guard, then?”

“I thought it was a given,” Noct muttered, sinking in his seat. Luna barely repressed a snort.

“We’ll start with the staff,” Luna said. Gladio stopped pacing as Luna pulled down a pair of wooden staves from the rack and tossed one to Gladio. “Stop before a killing blow, of course.”

“Of—“ Gladio started, but Luna was already moving into his range, staff twisting in a sharp line straight for his collarbone. He hissed in a short breath and blocked her, and Luna shifted her foot to smack him in the side. He blocked her again, but just barely, and Luna forced him back another step.

For a moment, all she could hear in the training room was the shuffle of their feet, the smack of staves, the hitch of breath. She fell into the rhythm she’d learned as a child, scrambling backwards over broken ground while her mother bore onwards, staff whirling.

Oracles were never meant to be symbols of peace. They predicted death. They marched into the ranks of oncoming plagues. Luna knew the rattle of a corpse under her hands, the sound of a spine snapping in the armor of an assassin MT. She met Gladio’s gaze, and for a second, she could see a flash of fear behind his eyes. His cheeks colored, and he stumbled back, strangely clumsy for a man who could move so swiftly for his size. Luna hooked her staff between his legs and brought him down.

He fell with the ease of practice, already starting to roll, but Luna stood on his thigh and wedged him in place with her staff, putting all her force behind it as leverage. He stared up at her, lips parted, as Luna stood over him, one foot just hovering over his exposed throat.

“Damn,” he whispered. He smiled, still breathing hard, and tilted his head back just a fraction more. “You want a job with the Crownsguard?”

“Maybe,” Luna said.

Luna stepped back onto the mat, and Gladio rolled away from her and onto his side.

“Gotcha, big guy,” Noct said, striding across the room. He tossed Gladio a jacket—odd, Luna thought, for a post-workout uniform—and Gladio kept his back turned as he tied it around his waist. “Yeah,” Noct said. He beamed as he slapped Gladio hard on the arm. “You’re good.”

“Fuck you very much,” Gladio mumbled.

“Luna.” Noct took her by the face, framing her cheeks with both hands. “Promise me you’ll do that again. Do you know how to use a sword? We’ve got swords. Gladio, you wanna try some fencing?”

“Don’t be cruel,” Ignis drawled, from where he was bouncing Artemis in his arms. She giggled and shrieked.

“Perhaps next time,” Luna said, as Gladio’s ears turned a brilliant red, “you’ll do me the honor of a duel yourself, Noctis.”

Noctis’ smile went, if anything, broader still.

“Any time.”