Between a Broom and a Hard Place

by queenhomeslice

Summary:

Noctis finds himself fixated on one of the Citadel's cleaning staff; or, how does one ask the cute janitor to suck your dick in the closet?

Notes:

Five thousand words of I don't even fucking know! *throws this story into the void* I've been writing this for 24 hours so humor me, I guess.

_____
Disclaimer: I don't own nor am I affiliated with SqEn, Final Fantasy, or Final Fantasy XV.

“Anything else to add before we move on, your Highness?”  

Noctis blinks, slowly coming back down to reality. He stares at the royal council in front of him, and feels a sharp elbow in his left ribs. He wasn’t dozing, but it was good as—zoning out will get him an earful from Ignis all the same.  

“Uh, no. Move on, ‘s all good.” He looks down and shuffles the meeting minutes in front of him. His attention is nowhere near politics right now—hell, it’s not even on video games, or Prompto, or pizza.  

For some ungodly reason, he’s recently become fixated on a certain member of the Citadel’s janitorial staff.  

 

Noct has been consumed with thoughts of the cute young woman for weeks now. He doesn’t even live here anymore and he found her cleaning his old bedroom one day, changing the sheets, just in case he needed to spend the night, or even crash for a few hours—he found out that she does it daily, and it makes his heart swell. She does other stuff, too, he’d discovered—emptying trash cans in the council rooms, Ignis’, and his father’s offices; mopping the bathrooms; polishing silverware; cleaning the throne. Of course, there’s about a hundred or so servants that scurry about the Citadel all day, cleaning and doing the menial stuff that the nobles think they’re too good for. There’s another fifty people that work in the kitchens alone, but Noct’s little crush seems to do a bit of everything.  

He can barely get out a full sentence; and of course, as lower-tier staff are wont to do, the girl bows and blushes and mutters a string of apologies, speckled with reverent use of his titles in shaky breaths before scurrying away, only to be hunted down by Noctis again later. Most of the time he just watches her work from afar—she’s got cheap headphones on most of the time while she cleans, humming off-key to who-knows-what, but Noctis finds it oddly endearing. He wonders how cute she’d look in normal clothes instead of the drab black jumpsuit she’s wearing every time he sees her. Her personality comes through in the sparkly headbands or jewelry she sometimes wears, but mostly she’s just plain and natural. Noctis finds it so much more attractive than the eligible bachelorettes who are paraded in front of him at every viable opportunity—the cookie-cutter high society types that usually only care about clothes, status, and looks. Shit, the cleaning girl isn’t even skinny; and Noct smirks to himself, imagining everyone’s faces if he walked into one of the balls with a cute, chubby servant on his arm as a plus one.  

But he can’t even get that far—he has trouble asking what time she even gets off in the evenings, much less asking her out. It’s odd, he thinks—women throw themselves at him left and right, and he can’t be bothered; and the one woman he wants to get to know is strangely unapproachable, and right now she’s probably cleaning his long-dormant bedroom for no reason other than duty.  

 

Noctis sighs as he hears Ignis interject into the meeting, and he tries to focus, he really does—but the door creaks open and the Astrals see fit to deliciously torture him today, because the cleaning girl squeezes through the door with a muttered apology. Regis waves his hand in a casual way, his universal sign to carry on. The girl bows and drags her cleaning cart quietly about the perimeter of the room, emptying garbage cans, watering the plants, dusting the bookshelves and buffets that line the walls. Noctis watches her work—she’s smiling a little, cute chubby cheeks dimpled as she moves about silently so as not to disturb the affairs of state. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks—if only he were better at talking to people. Sure, he could order her to sit with him in his room and make conversation, but that would be uncomfortable for the both of them, and a gross misuse of power. Noct wants to get to know her like he did Prompto: an easy friendship—or something more—between two people, not prince and subordinate.  

Noctis sighs again as he looks at her. He doesn’t even care if he’s being super obvious. Let the whole council know that he’s got a weird crush on the cute chubby cleaning girl—he’s beyond propriety at this rate.  

The girl turns to sweep another swatch of floor at the other end of the long table, and she chances a glance at the meeting—a half-second of eye contact is all it takes for her to look down, face turning tomato-red; she turns, sweeping in the other direction.  

Noct feels his own face heat up—is she blushing just because he’s the prince, or does she like him back? Noctis crosses proverbial fingers that it’s the latter. He tries not to think if it would be easy to coax her onto her knees and suck him off in a secluded corner of the Citadel. He feels his cock twitch and instantly looks down at his council reports again, desperately trying to kill his mood.  

“Excuse me,” calls Ignis, and the council elders keep arguing among themselves and their king.  

The cleaning girl stiffens and stills her dry mop, turning slowly to face Ignis. Noctis laser focuses on the documents on the table.  

Ignis beckons with a finger and Noctis hears her quiet footsteps come closer.  

“I hate to be a bother, but I’m quite thirsty, and I have forgotten to carry a drink to this riveting affair.” 

The girl’s mouth quivers, holding back a smile and a laugh. Ignis smirks in understanding—she caught the joke, and he’s glad.  

“Would you like me to fetch you a bottle of water, Lord Scientia?” she whispers. “It’s no trouble.”  

Ignis nods and adjusts his glasses. “I would be in your debt.” 

She shakes her head; Noct allows himself a peak in his peripheral vision. “No, the pleasure is mine. It’s my duty to serve. I will return shortly.” 

Ignis smiles warmly as he takes her hand in his, causing her to blush even harder and avert her gaze. “You have my thanks.” 

The girl nods and turns, and Noct can’t take it anymore.  

“Wait,” he croaks.  

The girl turns back slowly, eyes still looking down. “Your Highness?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.  

“I’m—thirsty too?” I’m very thirsty, Noct thinks to himself.  

She nods. “Of course, Highness.” 

Noct wants to argue—No, call me Noct, and can I have your phone number?—but he doesn’t, and the ruckus of the council has died down, and Ignis elbows him again, the universal sign for Pay attention. So Noct doesn’t watch the cleaning girl scurry from the council room; he focuses on his father instead, and Regis has an amused look on his face that Noct doesn’t want to think about.  

 

The girl returns minutes later with a tray full of glasses and a large pitcher of water. She sets it down next to Ignis and overturns all the cups, filling them all the way. She serves Regis first, and he nods in thanks, eyes lighting up at the unexpected but welcome gesture. She serves Noctis next—the prince feels his face heat up as she sets the glass in front of him. Her jumpsuit sleeves are rolled up to her elbows—a small blessing, because Noctis notices a thin black bracelet she’s wearing—the symbol of one of the factions from the King’s Knight game.  

Noct feels himself grin, and he can’t help himself. He grabs her wrist and dares to look into her eyes.  

She looks like a chocobo caught in headlights, pretty ______ eyes wide in terror, face as red as the bottom of his boots. She opens her mouth to speak, but doesn’t.  

Before she can look away and wrench herself from his grasp, Noctis looks at her bracelet again. “You play King’s Knight.” 

Her breath hitches, and then she whispers, almost painfully, “Yes, Highness.” 

“Stick around after this meeting, I’ll give you my friend code?” Noct’s voice cracks near the end of the sentence and it’s phrased like a question, but of course Noctis knows she’s not going to refuse him. He’s the prince, and he’s asked her to do something.  

She nods furiously, and he lets her hand slip out of his. His fingers are burning with her warmth, and her skin is just as soft as he’d imagined. The girl finishes pouring water for the council, and Ignis thanks her profusely. She goes back to her cleaning cart and her sweeping—and Noct can’t help but notice the smile that graces her lips for the remainder of the meeting.  

 

Noct bids his father and the council adieu, and throws his papers at Ignis and hauls ass outside of the room, hoping that she’s hovering around in the halls. He zeroes in on her instantly several doors down from the meeting space, idly polishing a suit of armor that’s probably been polished a hundred times today. He approaches her slowly and stops a few feet behind her, clearing his throat.  

He watches her jump, and she turns, hand over the left side of her ample chest. She bows instantly. “Your Highness,” she murmurs affectionately.  

“Uh, thanks—for the water,” Noct manages to finish. He was so bold when surrounded by others, but now that they’re kind of alone, he feels lost all over again.  

“My pleasure,” she says as she rises. Her face is flushed, but she’s got a warm smile, and it makes Noct feel a little better. “So—King’s Knight friend code? You’re sure you want to play with the help?” 

Noct chuckles. “C’mon, you’re not that. You’re a person, right?” 

She just stares at him as she digs her phone out of her pocket and fiddles with the screen. “I am pleased to know that my prince doesn’t look down on my station.” She looks down and swipes, taps a few times, then glances back up. “Ready when you are, Highness.” 

Noct swallows hard. Right—his phone. He scrambles in his pockets, muttering, “You don’t have to keep calling me that. You can just call me Noct.” 

He’s not looking but he imagines her shaking her head violently as she protests. “Oh, your Highness, I could not—never. To address you so casually...surely I would be punished for my impropriety.” 

“Oh my gods, you talk like Ignis,” Noct laughs as he brings up his King’s Knight profile. He recites the string of letters and numbers and she types it in. Seconds later there’s a little 1 in his notifications, and he smiles. “Hey, thanks. Excited to play with you. Raid battles are so much easier with more people. Oh! We should get you Prompto’s code, the next time he’s here, so that way all three of us can play together.” 

“I would be honored to play with his Highness and his friends,” she says quietly as she pockets her phone.  

“Yeah,” Noct manages. She’s breaking his heart and she doesn’t even know. He’s so mad at traditions, at these stupid barriers that have been built around him, closing him off from the regular people he wants to befriend. He hates that he’s different—he doesn’t even want to be the prince. He’ll abdicate right now if it means he can just go live with Prompto and get a shit-ass job at a convenient store and spend his life sleeping and playing video games and being happy.  

Noct doesn’t realize he’s standing with his phone in his hands, the background soundtrack to King’s Knight echoing off empty walls, with the cleaning girl in front of him, wondering if she should try to continue the conversation. It’s only when he hears faint What is the prince doing with the janitorial staff? from the council members who are slowly filing out of the room that his ears burn and he snaps back to reality. He looks up. The cleaning girl has gone back to polishing the suit of armor.  

“What’s your name?” Noctis blurts. Real smooth, pal, he thinks.  

“My name is of no consequence, Highness.” 

“But it is.” 

She pauses, gray cloth in hand, and turns. “Why do you want to know?” 

“I can’t know your name?” 

“I’m asking why you want to know anything about a nobody like me.” 

“I want to know everything about you,” Noctis says without thinking.  

She stares, face going red again. “I should go.” She pockets the rag and grabs the handle of her cart, dragging it down the hallway.  

Noctis sighs in defeat, and then sidles up next to Ignis, who’s the last to leave the meeting room. Ignis puts his arm around Noct in comfort as he escorts the prince down to the training facility.  

 

 

Some hours later, Noct finds himself still wandering the halls of the Citadel. Ignis has retreated to his office. Prompto’s working, and Gladio is who knows where. His father retired early, claiming ill health. Noctis doesn’t know what to do. He knows he could get a glaive to just drive him home, but he’d be alone and bored. He could go sit in Ignis’ office, at least, and pass out on the couch—but Noct’s brain goes on autopilot and he finds himself outside of his old bedroom. The door’s cracked, and he hears quiet humming. Holding his breath, he knocks, and pushes the door open.  

She’s just finished making the bed, fluffing the last of the overstuffed black pillows that rest on top. The old sheets and pillowcases are in a pile on the floor. She hasn’t noticed him yet, and Noct’s breath hitches as she leans down and presses a light kiss to the giant pillow she’s just set in place. Noct has never been jealous of an inanimate object until now, but fuck, he wishes he knew what her lips felt—tasted—like.  

She stands to full height and faces the door, and sees Noctis—and instead of a blush, her face drains of all color. She squints her eyes shut and bows, hastily, stammering. “Your Highness—forgive me, I—would have been gone already had I known you were coming—please excuse me, I—”

“Hey,” Noctis says quietly, shutting the door behind him. He rounds the huge four-post bed and steps up close to her.  

Her face is in her hands, and is she—crying? Noct’s taken aback. He doesn’t know what to do. Is she crying from embarrassment? Why did she kiss his pillow—the one he doesn’t even use anymore? Does she do it every day? he wonders. Noctis doesn’t know what else to do but embrace her. He’s been friends with Prompto long enough to recognize a panic attack when he sees one.  

She stiffens and immediately looks up as Noctis surrounds her. He can feel himself blushing, but she’s still all wide-eyed and scared.  

“Highness, what—it's not proper, you shouldn’t...” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Noctis says simply. The retort he’s expecting doesn’t come; the girl allows the prince to comfort her as she cries it out and calms down.  

 

“I...thank you, your Highness,” she mutters sometime later. “I should get going. Is there anything else I can get you this evening?” 

Fuck it. “Yeah, your phone number.” 

“I—what?” She wiggles out of Noct’s grasp and stares up at the prince.  

“You heard me.” 

She looks down and shakes her head. “I don’t appreciate you teasing me like that, Highness.” 

Noctis frowns. “I’m not teasing you. I’m asking you for your phone number.” 

“But why? What am I to you? I’m nothing, a nobody.” 

“You’re cute.”  

There’s the blush to her dimpled, chubby cheeks that Noctis finds so endearing. She doesn’t say anything, only shakes her head. “You might be a prince, but it’s wrong to be so cruel. If you’ll excuse me, Highness. I must be going.” She attempts to move around him.  

Noct is dumbfounded. Has he gone about this all wrong? Should he at least have asked her to dinner first before telling her what he thought? Why won’t she... “Why won’t you believe me?” Noctis asks. He blocks her way.  

“Let me go. Please.” 

“Not until you answer me.” 

“I’ve endured a lifetime of teasing, Highness—oh, so and so likes you, only to find out it was all a prank. Luring me into thinking that my affections were returned, only to be humiliated in front of classmates and teachers. And you can’t imagine—the names—” She pauses, then sighs deeply. “I applied for a job here so that I could serve my country—serve you. Somewhere where my size didn’t matter, where I could just work and keep my head down and steal...passing glances at you...it was enough. And now you’ve...you’ve spoiled it...I didn’t think you to be so callous.” She sniffs hard, shaking her head. “I’ll ask to be transferred immediately, if it pleases your Highness.” 

Noct physically takes a step back, reeling. What hardships and cruelty she must have experienced in her youth to think that such a straightforward gesture could be misconstrued as ill-intentioned. Noctis shakes his head furiously. “Wait, please—I promise you, I’m telling the truth. I’m not joking, I’m not pranking you. I’m not like that.” 

She glares at Noctis, but the prince thinks he sees a small chink in the proverbial armor she’s built up.  

Noctis continues before he loses her. “I really do want your phone number. I want to be friends. I want to get to know you. I...” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I really do think you’re cute.” Then he snaps his head back up. “Why did you kiss my pillow?” 

The cleaning girl goes white again and shakes her head. “I’m so stupid,” she mutters. Then, even quieter, “I pretend it’s you.” 

Noct’s stomach does a weird little flip and he feels his body light on fire from the inside out. He steps back up to her and takes her plump chin between his fingers and lifts her head up. He closes his eyes and closes the distance between them, tilting his head and pressing his lips to hers. She gasps and Noctis uses the opportunity of a more open mouth to deepen the kiss, swiping his tongue around her small, wet mouth, exploring. His heart beat is deafening as he feels her go limp in his arms. He snakes one hand beneath her hair and rests it at the back of her neck, holding her in place as he stakes his claim on her. The small, breathy moans that escape her mouth leave Noct even more breathless than the kiss. Time slows down as he moves in tandem with the cleaning girl; her hands have rested delicately on his slender hips, not gripping, just resting, as if she’s too frightened to do anything else. Noct loves it anyway—he wants her hands on him in any way possible. Noctis doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he finds a rhythm soon enough, and she melts into it, pliant under his ministrations. 

 

He finally manages to tear himself away. He looks down at this mystery cleaning girl—her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are wet at the corners, plump lips kiss-swollen and slicked with his saliva. He threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck and she shivers, looking down.  

“Will you tell me your name now, or do I have to kiss you again?” 

She actually lets out a light giggle—Noct's heart clenches again. “It’s...it’s ______________,” she says quietly, quickly adding, “your Highness.”  

Noct shakes his head and sighs. “Hey—look at me.” 

_____________ obeys.  

“That was my first kiss—so please, call me Noct.” 

“Your...” She bites her lip. “That was my first kiss too,” she whispers. “I never thought...that you, of all people...I’ve spent my whole life being invisible, I just—Noct,” she finally says, big dolloping tears welling up in her eyes. “You noticed me, and I—I don’t have anything to offer you...I—even if you never talk to me again after this, I’m grateful, I just...” 

“Hey,” says Noct again, slowly. “Calm down. It’s going to be all right. I’m not going anywhere.” He drops both hands around her thick waist and pulls her close. “Can we—will you—cuddle?” he manages to ask.  

_____________ stares at her prince in awe, but she sees no remorse, no cruel intent in the stormy blue eyes. She looks to the bed, then back at him, nodding. “Yeah. That sounds—nice.” 

 

And when Ignis finds the two of them together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the prince and the pauper, he smiles gently and grabs a spare blanket from the wardrobe and throws it over them, closing the bedroom door without a word.  

 

__________ 

 

“So, have you seduced any more of your father’s staff, or just the one?” Ignis poses the question like he’s asking Noctis what he wants for dinner.  

Noct lowers the gaming controller in his hands and pauses the game, slipping the gaming headphones from his ears. He turns to look at his adviser, bracing himself for a well-thought-out lecture from the older man, but Ignis’ piercing green eyes hold no malice, only curiosity.  

“Uh,” says Noctis. “I haven’t seduced anyone.” 

“So I am to believe that a pretty young woman, who’s your age, wearing one of the Citadel staff uniforms, just happened to crawl into bed with you in your old bedroom? Of her own accord?” 

Noct’s ears are burning red. He’s already told Prompto about the new developments in his fledgling love life, but he thought better about telling Ignis. He doesn’t know why he even bothered—Ignis knows everything.  

“Is this the reason you’ve been sighing so wistfully at meetings?” 

“And why you keep fucking bruising me with your pointy-ass elbows? Yeah, Specs. I have—a crush, I guess, all right?” 

“On the cleaning girl.” 

“She has a name.” 

“Quite. ___________ ___________, an immigrant from Accordo at the age of two. Her parents work in a textile factory on the east side. Graduated from community college, the first in her family to do so. But, even with an associate’s degree, and honors accolades to boot, she chose to work here.” 

“What? I didn’t know she was from Accordo. How do you know all of this?” 

“Well, she had to go through a background check, naturally,” says Ignis as he unties his apron and folds it on top of the couch, lowering himself next to Noctis. “I made it a point to read it this morning before training with Gladio.” 

“We didn’t even do anything, y’know,” Noctis mutters as he unpauses his game and continues the dungeon crawl. “We just—kissed, a little, and cuddled on the bed. That’s it.” 

Ignis lifts an eyebrow. “Honestly, Noct. Think about what you’ve done to the poor girl. You’re the prince—you think she’s going to refuse you anything at all?” 

“Well, she didn’t feel sorry about it, at least not from how she acted. She wanted it too.” 

“Of all...there are highborn women paraded in front of you monthly, and your goblin brain decides to latch onto the janitorial staff. The council is going to have a field day if you’re caught.” 

Noct shrugs, button-mashing his way through the slew of monsters that has appeared in his open-world RPG. “So I won’t get caught.” 

“You couldn’t even manage to keep it a secret from me, Noct,” Ignis chides affectionately. “How on earth are you going to sneak around them—and not to mention your father.” 

“My dad’s just gonna be happy I have two friends instead of one,” Noct laughs.  

Ignis looks offended.  

“I mean—someone like Prom, c’mon, Ignis, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Ignis smirks. “Of course. You do have a penchant for picking up fiercely loyal commoners, it seems.” 

“Yeah,” Noct agrees as he unleashes his special attack; he whoops as the boss monster goes down like a bitch, and then he saves, turning off the console. “So are we gonna have a fight now?” 

“Why would I fight you?” 

“Aren’t you gonna tell me that it’s not proper, that I’m not supposed to date below my title, blah blah blah?” 

Ignis smiles. “I think it’s rather sweet—a real Cinderella story, on her part.” 

Noct bites his lip and looks down. “She said I was the first—she said I noticed her. She said she was bullied a lot in school—she didn’t even believe me when I said I wanted to get to know her, or when I told her she was cute.” 

Ignis shakes his head. “Oh, dear Noctis,” he chuckles. “You’ve overwhelmed her, surely, by praising her so?” 

“Well, I don’t wanna lie to her. She is cute. And her lips are so soft, and—all of her is soft, when we were cuddling on the bed, I just—what a woman, Iggy. I can’t stop thinking about it. About her.” 

“I’ve never seen you like this,” says Ignis gently as he places a hand on his prince’s shoulder. “I am here for you, Noctis. In any way that you need me.” 

“Yeah—thanks, Specs. I think...I’m tired. Think I’m gonna go to bed.” 

Ignis nods. “I’ll clean up. Get some rest, then.” 

 

__________ 

 

It’s an easy progression from sucking face to getting _____________ on her knees, sucking Noct’s cock in the cramped janitor’s closet after he’s finished training. Noct didn’t even bother to shower, nearly warping out of the training yard and up to the Citadel proper. _____________ is exactly where he asked her to be, and as soon as the coast was clear, he pulled her into the closet. She’d locked the door behind them and pushed him up against the shelves of chemicals and toilet paper, manhandling her prince like he’d disappear if she didn’t touch him fast enough. Noct’s still in sweats and a t-shirt—easy, there’s no fumbling with belts or zippers, just sliding down boxers and sweatpants and then suddenly he’s groaning, banging the back of his head against the storage units as _____________ moans deliciously around his cock. Noctis feels the crackling magic of the crystal bubbling up inside of him as he’s surrounded by an impossibly wet heat—the slurping sounds that she’s making are utterly obscene, and Noct can’t help but feel a little scandalized, even though these quick trysts are always his idea. She never turns him down—she lives for her prince’s cock in her mouth, and she feels lucky to even be in the presence of the royal jewels.  

___________ hums appreciatively around Noctis, barely even caring that he’s sweaty—she relaxes her jaw and takes Noct all the way to the base, which has him fisting into her hair and bucking his hips wildly. She feels proud to have such an effect on him, and her heart swells with adoration as she reaches to fondle Noct’s heavy, reddened balls in one hand, massaging the soft sacs as she fucks him with her mouth.  

“Fuck—baby, fuck ___________, you’re so good...” Noct’s eyes roll back in his head and he feels his hips thrust faster of their own accord. “Shit, baby, I’m—” Noct’s world explodes into stars before he even knows what’s happening, vision blanking out as he releases white hot into her welcoming throat. 

__________ moans as she takes everything that Noctis gives her, sucking out every last drop of his orgasm until she feels his fist loosen from her hair. She pulls away, giving his flagging cock one gentle kiss before she lifts Noct’s underwear and shorts up to his knees, dressing him as she stands fully.  

Noct cracks his eyes open and looks down at his lover—her face is flushed, eyes dark with lust, faint sheen of sweat on her forehead and neck. The jumpsuit covers most of everything—Noctis doesn’t get to see any skin, but that’s part of the juxtaposition of it all—he's the one being stripped half naked and taken apart by his secret lover, and he’s the one with all the power. Noctis loves it. He ties his sweatpants’ drawstrings in a knot and sighs happily, drawing her into himself, chin resting on top of her head.  

“I love you,” Noctis says, like he always does after her soft, fat stomach is full of his cum.  

______________ sighs and hugs her prince tighter. “I love you so much, your Highness. Noct,” she says.  

“Meet me in my room later tonight?” 

She draws back and stares at her prince, getting lost too easily in his dark blue eyes. She sees the promise of something more in his face, in his gaze. It’s been a few weeks of him tugging her away from polishing suits of armor and getting her on her knees to pleasure him, but Noctis doesn’t want to be selfish anymore.  

“Please,” he says. “I want to see you, taste you.” He laughs lightly. “Wanna get you out of this stupid uniform.”  

She blushes and looks away. “I like it, actually. It’s a symbol of—of my service. To the crown. To you.” She touches the left side of her chest, above her breast, where a little silver royal insignia has been sewn into the heavy canvas fabric of the jumpsuit. “I get to wear the crest,” she continues. “It makes me feel important. It makes me belong.” 

Noct’s stomach does somersaults. “You belong to me, even if you didn’t work for me. For my dad.” 

She nods. “Of course I do, Noct. I am yours.” 

“I promise you, soon. Soon we’re going to stop sneaking around. I’ll present you properly, and you’ll never have to scrub another toilet ever again.” 

She shakes her head and buries her face in Noct’s chest. “It’s too much to even dare dream about,” she whispers. “I am happy with whatever you see fit to give me.” 

“I see fit to give you my kingdom, if you asked,” Noctis whispers into her hair. “And my heart, if you would have it.”  

 

 

And years later, when Queen ____________ tells their children of her humble beginnings, Noctis smiles on his father’s throne and takes her hand, watching as the new crop of princes and princesses laugh and play about the castle, making sure to always greet the janitorial staff properly, and with respect.  

 

 

 

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Cleaning Girl