Chapter Text
The scent of smoke filled the air, acrid and overwhelming in its nature. Gunfire shattered through windowpanes, nearly hitting civilians who were trying to flee the Niflheim empire. Houses were gone, leveled by Magitek and imperial troopers alike.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Silence. But not blessed. This brand of silence hung in the air with an unsettling weight, almost suffocating. It crept down one’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Wooden paneling pushed up off the ground.
She should have died.
Footsteps approached, undeniably imperial with the sound of clanking armor with each step taken. She tried to get away, but the soldier was upon her and hit the back of her head, subduing her.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Hey Chryseis, buddy, you alive in there?”
She woke from the memory, just before the soldier forced her on her hands and knees.
Chryseis De Lys woke from her slumber, her hair disheveled and face streaked with tears. Ten years since Galahd was attacked by Niflheim, and it still felt like yesterday when she crawled out of the rubble. She still believed a twist of fate allowed her to survive through the catastrophe. She should have died the moment her home had collapsed on top of her.
Banging on the door again, followed by Noctis’ voice and the sound of the lock unlatching as he used a key to enter her apartment.
“Chrys, you awake?”
“Yeah, I’m awake,” she replied, her voice still thick with sleep. A hand ran down her face as she let out a sigh.
“What’s going on?”
Noctis appeared in the doorway of Chryseis’ bedroom, his Lucian blue eyes piercing through the midmorning light that filtered through the window. He looked her up and down, his expression flat as per usual. He never mentioned the tears that streaked her face when she’d wake in the morning, but he was aware that she was reliving her past every night.
“You look like shit.”
“And you look like you just rolled out of bed.”
Noctis leaned against the doorway. “Dad wants to see us at the Citadel. Sounds like we’re officially leaving Insomnia.”
Chryseis stretched her arms over her head before getting up from bed and walking to her dresser. “Knowing your dad, he’s going to make it straight to the point. He always had a penchant for making the five of us shit ourselves.”
“Not wrong there,” the prince admitted. “Pack your things. Cor will be outside with the car. And you should probably wear your Crownsguard uniform.”
Chryseis huffed. “Right. Wouldn’t want to look out of place in the throne room.”
“See you outside.”
Noctis stepped outside the apartment, leaving the woman to her own devices. She packed a bag - spare clothes, some makeup, her headphones, and a picture of her and Noctis after she was taken off the streets of Insomnia at the age of 18.
Ten years since Galahd burned. Ten years since she lost her home and her parents had left her behind.
Chryseis remembered the day Noct found her like it was yesterday. She hadn’t made the cut to be part of the Kingsglaive, even though Nyx had tried to vouch for her, and after living on the streets for six months, the young prince of Lucis saw her getting harassed by some Crownsguard and stepped in to help her. Chryseis was awestruck how the Crownsguard had obeyed him after trying to contest that she was nothing but a gutter rat - an immigrant. She remembered how King Regis looked at her like she was something special and decided to take her under his wing.
Now she was here, in an apartment that Regis helped her secure, getting ready to embark on an adventure with her best friend and the rest of his retinue. Chryseis exhaled and looked at herself in the mirror, her grey eyes analyzing herself before grabbing the Crownsguard uniform and stepping into the bathroom to get cleaned up and changed.
When she emerged twenty minutes later, she was dressed and her red hair went up in an elegant half pony, strands of hair framing her face. Her Crownsguard outfit was nearly similar to Prompto’s, except the jacket was much longer down the back, where if she moved just right, it flared out like a cape. Befitting of a woman who wielded elemancy like it was an extension of herself. She put her fingerless gloves on and threw her bag over her shoulder before walking out of the apartment.
Noctis took her bag from her and gave it to Cor before they crammed themselves into the back of the car.
“So, do you think that Lucis will really broker peace with the Niffs?” Chryseis asked.
“It’s what was promised,” Noctis responded. “You worried?”
“Of course I am. I mean, you and I both know what happened to my hometown. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that Niflheim will drive the knife in further,” she pointed out, turning to look out the window of the car.
“It’ll be okay, Chrys. We both know dad can handle himself.”
She sighed.
“Yeah, I know.”
The rest of the car ride to the Citadel was quiet. Upon arriving, Noctis helped Chryseis out of the car and they greeted Ignis, Gladiolus and Prompto on the steps leading up to the doors of the Citadel entrance. As they walked up, the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on edge. It wasn’t a sensation that she felt often, but when it did happen, it usually spelled trouble.
Maybe she was just overthinking it.
In the shadows of the Citadel, a man with gold eyes and red-violet hair looked on as Noctis and his four-person retinue entered the Citadel and made for the elevators before turning on his heel and walking further into the abyss.
The throne room upon entering was oppressive in its grandeur. At the far end of the room was a staircase leading up to a dais with another two sets of stairs that led up to the throne of Lucis. The throne where King Regis sat, looking down onto the room. The five of them stood at the dais, Chryseis, Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto looked onwards as the King addressed Noctis directly.
“The decreed hour is come,” King Regis declared, his voice commanding as it echoed in the throne room. “Set forth with my blessing, Prince Noctis.”
Noctis bowed, inelegantly as per usual. “Thank you… Your Majesty.”
“Take your leave, and go in the grace of the gods.”
Noctis exhaled. “Right.”
Chryseis watched alongside Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto as Noctis descended the stairs and the four of them bowed before the king before taking their leave. As she walked down the stairs from the dais, the hair on the back of her neck stood on edge again, gooseflesh beginning to take shape on her upper arms. Something felt incredibly wrong, and she wasn’t quite sure what it was.
The walk back outside was silent between the five of them. That was until Prompto broke the silence.
“Well, princes will be princes.”
“So much for royal protocol,” intoned Ignis.
Gladiolus added his two cents, “Not like you had to deliver a formal address.”
“We all know Noct wouldn’t be able to deliver one if he tried,” Chryseis remarked. “His public speaking skills aren’t exactly up to par for a Prince of Lucis.”
They all stopped in their tracks as a voice called out behind them, causing them all to turn to see what was wrong. There was King Regis coming down the stairs with the captain of the Kingsglaive, Titus Drautos, behind him. The sight of the man who had become a second father to her walking down the stairs with his cane and a leg brace made Chryseis’ heart clench. So much time had passed since then, and seeing the King older and frailer was hard to see.
“What now?” Noctis said, clearly exasperated.
The redhead wanted to elbow Noctis for the tone, but she refrained, standing behind him as father and son reconnected on a personal level.
“I fear I have left too much unsaid,” the old king said, walking forward with most of his weight on his cane. “You place a great burden on those who would bear with you.”
“You’re one to talk,” the prince quipped.
“I ask not that you guide my wayward son, merely that you remain at his side,” Regis said, his voice softer than what it was in the throne room.
Ignis bowed, “Indeed, Your Grace.”
“We’ll see the prince to Altissia if it’s the last thing we see.”
“Yeah, what he said.”
As Noctis turned to dismiss the conversation with his father, Regis held Chryseis back, having a conversation with her before he would try to talk to Noctis once more.
“You’ve become the daughter that I never had, Chryseis De Lys. My son is fortunate to have you as a friend and now a part of his royal retinue,” he said to her quietly.
“Your Majesty, it’s been my honor to have been part of this family for ten years,” Chryseis replied, her tone just as soft as his. “I don’t know how many times I’ve had to thank you for your generosity and it still never felt like it was enough. I am thankful that I have been able to remain your son’s friend these past ten years. And we both know that I would do just about anything to make sure that he remains safe from harm.”
Her soft grey eyes met the green hues of the King, a silent understanding passing between them before she embraced him like she had done several times in the past.
“Gonna miss you, Regis,” she whispered, tears slipping down her face unbidden. “You’ve become my dad just as much as you are Noct’s, even though our blood separates us.”
“Child, you know that family is more than blood,” the King said, embracing her back before they parted. “It will do you well to remember that.”
“Yes sir.”
Chryseis stepped back and watched as Noctis and his father began conversing quietly. She didn’t know what was said, but she could tell that Regis was trying to make the attempt of being a father instead of a king.
The man with golden eyes watched once more, his eyes fixed on the redhead that stood on the stairs of the Citadel. Something about this woman piqued his interest, and he was going to use Noctis to get to her. He watched for a few moments before returning to the shadows once more.
Then, Noctis, Chryseis, and the rest of the retinue were off. Cor drove them out of the city and gave the Regalia over.
The soft chime of wedding bells echoed in five sets of ears as they drove off towards Hammerhead.