Chapter Text
“I am getting too old for this...”
Not that he was ever going to admit it, but Cor is breathing hard as he is running down the long corridor, the heavy boots of his Crownsguard uniform echoing loudly in the vast space of the Citadel.
Yes, he survived insurmountable odds in many battles which granted him the nickname ‘Cor the Immortal’ and yes, he still is the Kingdom’s most formidable fighter - apart from King Noctis of course. But he was not in his thirties anymore, hell not even his forties.
A decade ago, his body would have forgiven him a few broken ribs easily, but now... the recent injury he received on an excursion in the outskirts of Duscae, left him sore and a bit grumpy. While everyone was happy the Wall was protecting the whole of Eos again, it didn’t mean a few of the nastier deamons hadn’t survived the Ascension of King Noctis.
And yet, despite his discomfort he pushes forward as fast as he can.
His King needed him.
He was just in a debriefing of that last battle when he received Ignis’s text:
Marshal, could I please trouble you to join us in the King’s office? It is a particularly bad one today. I would appreciate your assistance again.
Cor cursed under his breath. When would their young King finally catch a break.
“When he is dead,” Cor shakes his head at his morbid thought.
It has certainly been ten long years for them all.
But mostly for King Noctis.
It was merely two weeks ago when the Crystal was given to The Empire of Niflheim as a sign of goodwill.
Compensation for the years of chaos and destruction the Kingdom of Lucis had no choice but to leave them to after King Regis’s almost fatal accident which caused the fall of the First Wall ten years ago.
But the severity of the pain the loss of proximity to the Crystal caused for Noctis, none of them could have anticipated. Well, maybe Noctis did. But he never would have put a stop to the agreement.
Cor slowed down to a brisk walk as he nears the threshold to the King’s wing, signaling the two Crownsguard stationed there to follow him.
“Tecta, Andro, with me!”
The two soldiers easily fall into step behind their commander, worry lining their faces immediately.
“The King?” Tecta asks, her voice soft.
Cor gives a sharp nod.
“Again?” She mutters under her breath, her brows creasing further in concern.
Andro watches the exchange between the two with utter bewilderment.
It’s his first week on ‘King duty’, so he has no idea what the hell is going on.
He is about to say as much when their arrival at the King’s chambers ends any chance of a question.
The two Glaives posted in front of the door as His Majesty’s protective detail give Cor a sharp salute, their faces grim.
Cor pushes open the heavy door, revealing the King and his adviser Ignis Scientia.
Noctis is standing behind his lavish mahogany desk, hunched over supporting his weight with two shaky arms. He is drenched in sweat despite the room’s cool temperature.
It is early evening, rays of the last remaining sunlight lazily shining through the tall stained glass window behind the desk, casting the room into a soft green light.
Scattered reports under Noctis’s hands forgotten as he struggles to breathe through the pain. Ignis right behind him, steadying the king with a firm grip on his right upper arm and left wrist. These points of contact seem to be about the only thing keeping the younger man upright.
“Cor,” Noctis pants, eyes lined with pain looking at him through his dark bangs glued to his forehead. “You didn’t need to come! Shouldn’t you be recovering from your -argh-injury?”
The King’s reprimand lacked a bit of its usual authority when he doubled over in agony halfway through the sentence. Ignis tightens his grip.
Cor quickly walks up to the pair.
“Let’s get you sitting down, Your Majesty.”
He meets Ignis’s eyes over Noctis’s shoulder. Silent understanding passing between them.
“Thank you for coming, Marshal,” Ignis says quietly.
Together, they slowly lead their King to the big dark leather couch under the window, supporting him on each side.
With his hand on the King’s lower back, Cor can feel tremors rocking Noctis’s lean frame.
Ignis urgently throws the royal raiment’s cape off to the side, long since discarded on the couch to give His Majesty even the smallest amount of comfort.
The careless act is a testament to how truly distressed the King’s adviser is - usually an epitome of cleanliness and decorum.
They slowly lower Noctis down on the now empty couch, the leather warm from the last rays of the sun.
Ignis sits down next to him, shuffling with practiced ease until Noctis’s head is resting on his thigh.
Noctis lets out a long breath. He turns his head towards the two Crownsguard.
“Tecta, Andro,” the King addresses them quietly with a small smile, ”I am sorry about this,” gesturing vaguely down his body.
“Your Majesty, please, anything we can do to help,” Andro blurts out, clearly confused as to what causes his normally seemingly invincible King to be in such a state.
“What,” - Andro’s question is interrupted by an agonizing moan coming from their king’s throat.
Noctis’s smile falls from his lips as his body seizes up, his back arching off the couch, his head digging deep into Ignis’s thigh. Suddenly a shower of blue crystals bursts out of him and with it a suppressed groan of pain.
Just as quickly as it came on, it stops. Noctis is slack in Ignis’s grip.
Eyes squeezed shut, breathing heavily. Sweat drips down his face, his black dress shirt and vest thoroughly soaked.
Cor lowers himself to his knees in front of the couch, helping Ignis unbutton the vest to make breathing a bit easier for Noctis.
“How many has it been?” Cor asks as he works on the last button.
“With this last one, four in the last twenty minutes.”
Not good.
“Where is Gladiolus?”
“I asked him to fetch Prompto. I felt it prudent it would be the three of us this time,” the adviser says quietly.
Cor nods in approval.
“Sir, sorry, but what is happening?” a totally confused and shocked Andro finally bursts out.
Cor glances at him, forgiving the young soldier’s lack of formality given the current situation. He is a capable Crownsguard, loyal, strong and compassionate.
“He will be a good addition to the inner circle,” Cor thinks to himself.
“You know about the Power of Providence the King has acquired over the last ten years?”
“Of course,” Andro replies, almost offended.
Every crown citizen of Lucis knows of their young King’s sacrifice that started ten years ago.
On that fateful night when the course of Lucis’ history took a dramatic turn.
King Regis and his son Prince Noctis returned from a diplomatic trip from Niflheim, only to be attacked by a vicious snake deamon, a Marilith.
As long as human memory lasts, deamons have plagued the star of Eos.
No one really knows where they came from, only that they were part of the planet’s circle of life, just as perpetual as the rising and setting of the sun.
Coming out only at night, the deamons attack every living thing they encounter, infecting their prey with their poisonous miasma to spread their sickness, the Starscourge.
The only thing keeping them at bay is daylight - and the magic of the Royal Family of Lucis.
For centuries, the kings and queens of the bloodline of the Caelum family fought valiantly to protect not only Lucis but other continents as well, the Empire of Niflheim, the Republic of Accordo and the Kingdom of Tenebrae.
With the help of the Crystal, the source of the magic gifted to the royal bloodline by the gods to protect their star, the kings and queens would erect an impenetrable Wall around the continents using the Ring of Light to channel the Crystal’s power.
Until ten years ago, when King Regis’s spine was severed protecting his son in the deamon attack, and with it, his innate power to fully connect to the Crystal.
Choosing to protect his son from certain death, meant giving up protection of his people and the people of Eos.
Weakened and bound to a wheelchair after a three-month long coma, Regis had no choice but to shrink the circumference of the Wall to only shroud Lucis’s Crown City of Insomnia.
And if that was not tragedy enough, fate had more in store for the Caelum family.
While in his coma, the gods revealed a prophecy to Regis.
Noctis was chosen as the True King to rid Eos of the Starscourge.
He would have to bathe in the Crystal’s light to gain the Power of Providence. Every day for seven hours, the Prince shall bond with the Crystal and become the vessel for its magic - to complete his Ascension at the age of twenty, when he is to be given the Ring of Light.
By the power of the Light alone is the Chosen King made manifest. With the Glaives of Kings, the Stone of Legend, and the Ring of Light in hand, the Chosen’s power will surpass that of even the gods themselves. By that selfsame power, with the True King as its vessel, the darkness shall be purged from the star, and dawn shall return to the world once more. The heart of the Crystal, wherein lies the soul of the star and it is from that place the King will gain the power to fulfill his calling.
Those were the words of the gods, Regis received during his coma.
They sound grand and divine as they were written down in books, discussed by scholars, and spreading through the realms with whispers of hope.
But for the handful of people closest to Noctis who would witness the prince absorbing the power of the Crystal firsthand every day, these words meant a whole lot more.
Cor swears that every single one of the prince’s sessions he stood guard for would be forever seared into his memory.
They were incredibly painful for the young prince. The massive power of the Crystal’s magic funneling into the small human body. And they would grow more intense the older he got. As if the Crystal felt small mercy as to subject a child to such torment.
Noctis bore it with such quiet dignity, it was humbling to all those around him staying by his side only fuelling their loyalty and fierce protectiveness towards him.
His father’s accident forced the young prince to grow up much faster than any kid should. He stood by his sick father’s side, practically co-reigning the country.
Tutors and advisers groomed him into a leader his father could not be anymore. There were good days and bad days of course. But when it all seemed to become too much for Noctis, his three closest retainers were always there standing by his side, giving him the strength to keep going.
Noctis’s coronation was only a few months ago. One week after his twentieth birthday and completion of his Ascension. It took many months of gentle coaxing on Noctis’s part for Regis to finally agree to abdicate his throne. All Noctis wanted for his father was to finally get some rest, the nations of Eos were a bit more selfish in their demand.
Donning the Ring of Light on that day, marked the next step in the prophecy.
The newly crowned King’s power was so vast that he could expand the Wall back to encompass all continents of Eos and bring its people back under Lucis’s magical protection.
But a lot has happened politically in the last ten years across the continents. Despite the prince’s best efforts to support the unguarded continents in fending off the deamons with his army of Kingsglaive, there were heavy losses among the people of Eos. And bitterness towards the Royalty of Lucis arose, mostly originating from the Empire of Niflheim which was the hardest to defend since it was the furthest away from Lucis.
The Empire’s scorn grew so strong, that the current leader of Niflheim, Iedolas Aldercapt was threatening to bring war to Lucis’s doorstep if they don’t give them the Crystal as collateral for the years of destruction they had to face.
They knew it was an empty threat, with the King’s unmatched power and the Wall back up. But King Noctis agreed. His first official act as a King.
Which led them straight back to the dilemma at hand.
“Well, for a lack of a better comparison,” Cor explains, “His Majesty is suffering from Crystal Withdrawal.”
Understanding dawned on Andro’s face.
Most of the inner circle of Crownsguard bore witness to the Prince’s sessions with the Crystal when on guard duty.
Andro himself never was allowed as a young recruit but he heard his older comrades talk in hushed voices when they would come back from their shifts, worn out after having to witness their young prince in such unimaginable pain.
“It’s just a bit worse than we anticipated,” Cor continues with something like a look of regret on his face.
“Worse than anticipated?!” Andro’s voice raises a notch. Tecta gives him a sharp nudge signaling him to lower his voice.
“But if His Majesty knew this would happen, why did he let Niflheim have it?” He lowered his voice to an urgent whisper.
“ ‘s because we owe it to them”, Noctis’s voice is quiet.
“Oh Noct,” Ignis sighs, his face brimming with such loyalty and love, Andro had to look away at the intensity of it.
“Your Majesty,” Ignis cards his fingers through Noct’s hair, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ll live,” Noctis says with a small chuckle as if laughing at his own inside joke.
The tremors have not stopped coursing through him and his breath is still labored, but he seems lucid enough.
“Where are Gladio and Prom-mhhhnnn”- another big seizure grips Noct’s body followed by another shower of blue crystals.
“They are almost here, Your Majesty.” Ignis keeps running his fingers through his King’s sweaty hair.
“ ‘Kay,” Noctis breathes out, closing his eyes trying to relax against his adviser.
As if on cue, the door bursts open and Prompto stumbles into the room, half running half sliding towards the couch coming to a sharp stop at Noctis’s side.
“Noct! Buddy!”
Noctis, with his eyes still closed, gives him a soft smile.
A bit more composed but not less worried, the King’s Shield, Gladio Amicitia enters the room.
“How’s he doing”, his deep voice soft, face laced with concern as he directs his gaze to Ignis.
“He’ll need all three of us today. He had five already in the last thirty minutes.”
Gladio takes in a sharp breath, quickly striding towards the couch lowering himself to his knees between Cor and Prompto who had just finished a quiet ‘hello’ to his dad.
“Marshal,” Gladio gives Cor a quick nod.
“Amicitia,” Cor moves to stand to give the King’s closest friends a bit more space.
“Hey Princess, we’re here now, don’t you worry.” Gladio soothes the younger man.
“Hey guys...,” Noctis mumbles, never opening his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching upwards at the old familiar nickname.
Gladio gently puts his hand on top of Noct’s left that is resting on his stomach.
He quickly snatches it back as if burnt, the Ring of Light incredibly hot to the touch.
“Is that normal?” His eyes searching Ignis’s again.
“I am afraid so. His magic is raging uncontrolled.”
“Aaaargh!” The biggest seizure yet forces all of Noctis’s muscles too tight, writhing in agony. It takes all three of the retainers to keep him on the couch.
Another scream tears from his throat while a constant shower of blue crystals ripples around him. And suddenly, as if strings cut from a puppet, Noctis slumps down on the couch his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. Any form of coherence he seemed to have moments ago all but gone.
“What the hell, Iggy. Aren’t those crystals usually only visible, when he is like, warping? ” Prompto is frantic, his fists balled up in the fabric of Noctis’s black slacks.
Cor takes in the faces of the room. That last scream made their expressions even more grim.
They all know how incredibly high the King’s pain threshold is.
Ten years of constant exposure to the Crystal’s torment, all but eradicated Noctis’s sense of pain.
To actually scream out like that, the pain must be almost impossible to fathom. It would most certainly render any of them unconscious.
“As I said,” Ignis’ composure crumbling, “it’s his magic. We have to act now.”
“What do you need me to do,” Prompto facing Ignis, his face all business, a foreign expression on the usually bubbly and happy young man.
Prompto has not been present for the previous episodes. Only Gladio and Ignis.
Ignis immediately goes into what Noctis fondly would call his ‘tactician’ mode.
“Imagine the Providence as a waterfall of incredibly powerful magic, drip-feeding a small vessel. Slowly over ten years, one day at a time, letting the vessel grow with the expanding power.
The Crystal was channeling the power in measured amounts and controlling the flow even after the king finished his Ascension.
Now with the increased distance, that support has diminished, letting what the prophecy calls ‘the Chosen’s power that will surpass even the gods’ rage within him uncontrolled. This is where we come in.”
Ignis takes a deep breath.
We need to anchor him through the Armiger and help his Majesty to bring back control to the flow of his magic.”
Prompto’s eyes are wide as he nods slowly.
Sensing their youngest team member’s unease, Ignis firmly grabs Prompto’s shoulder.
“I know you can do this. Trust me, we are meant to do this.” He gives his shoulder another squeeze.
Prompto’s face turns determined.
“Let’s do it!”
Ignis nods in approval.
He faces Gladio, “You know what to do.”
Ever so gently, the three arrange their king into a sitting position on the couch.
Gladio supports most of his weight as he carefully cradles Noctis’s head until it rests slightly tilted up on the back pillow.
The shield sits down on his charge’s left, resting his forehead in the space between Noct’s shoulder and jaw. Ignis mirroring the same position on the right.
Prompto stays kneeling on the ground, hugging his friend’s legs, lowering his forehead slightly above Noctis’s knees.
Once they are in position, Cor turns towards the two Crownsguard.
“Tecta,” is all Cor has to say for her to give a resolute nod and position herself behind Gladio.
The Galahdian soldier was on guard duty the previous times it happened.
“Sir...,” before Andro can finish, Cor is gently leading him towards Ignis with a firm hand on his elbow.
“They need us to act as their grounding rods. They are entering the King’s Armiger where a raging storm is going on. They need contact from the outside world, otherwise they’ll lose themselves.”
Andro snaps to attention and slowly lowers his hand on Ignis’s shoulder mirroring Tecta’s position behind Gladio.
Cor quietly moves behind his charge, a firm hand placed on Prompto’s shoulder.
Prompto quickly gives his head a small turn, never leaving Noctis’s knees mouthing a quick ‘thank you, father’.
Cor replies with an encouraging smile.
Cor takes a deep breath. “We’re ready. You can begin.”
Andro is not sure what to expect, so he startles slightly when a whirlwind of blue crystals is suddenly bursting out of the center of their King’s chest, engulfing his friends in a vortex of light.
Andro stares at the scene with awe.
There seems to be no change to Noctis who is still breathing in pained shallow breaths.
His three retainers’ faces are strained in concentration. Sweat started to bead their brows after a few minutes.
“How long will they need to keep this up,” Andro asks quietly as the last rays of the sun have finally sunk behind the horizon.
“It usually doesn’t take longer than fifteen minutes,” Cor replies.
“So, how...how often has this happened?” the young soldier stammers, as if not sure he is allowed to know such intimate details about their King.
“This is the fourth time in the two weeks we have surrendered the Crystal to Niflheim. Usually, it was enough for either Ignis or Gladio to anchor him and he fully recovered right away after they managed to stabilize his magic...This is the worst one yet,” Cor finishes quietly.
A few more minutes pass, so Andro starts again, “How did they know they need to do this?” gesturing with his head towards the group of four still entangled by the blue light.
“Queen Lunafreya,” Cor replies, sounding almost relieved, “Thankfully with her and Lady Gentiana at our side, we might have a fighting chance.”
Andro didn’t understand, what had the Queen of Tenebrae, and her wife, the Messenger Divine to do with all this?
He was about to say as much when a noise from the couch interrupted him.
“Mhhhhh, Luna’s great,” Noctis mumbles, a lazy smile gracing his lips, eyes still closed.
“Your Majesty,” Cor starts, relieved.
Noctis releases a deep breath. His three retainers also stirring quietly.
Cor gives Prompto’s shoulder a squeeze, Tecta and Andro mimicking his action.
Slowly, the four of them untangle from each other, sitting upright but never fully stopping touching their King as if to ensure he is still with them.
Noctis, with his eyes still closed, is slowly circling his head in different directions to work out some tension from his neck.
“Noct?” Ignis tries quietly, his voice rasping slightly.
“Yeah, I am alright, Specs. Give me a minute, please.“
Ignis nods, both him and Gladio standing up from the couch to give Noctis some space. Prompto following their lead.
Noctis shifts forward on the couch, resting his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands together to let them rest between his knees. Head hanging low.
Prompto is staring questioningly at his dad.
“You guys have done the hard part. Now give His Majesty a bit of space so he can finish putting up his blocks.”
“His blocks?”
“To keep his magic contained.”
The small group looks on silently, as they witness their King’s quiet struggle with the insane power within him, his face scrunched up in concentration as he is building up his walls to tame the raging storm.
After a few minutes, Noctis releases another long breath, slowly straightening his back and raising to his feet. Looking more and more like their fearless young leader. Gladio is hovering behind him ready to catch him if he needed him to.
Another deep breath and Noctis finally opens his eyes.
Taking in the group of six worried faces, a gentle smile lights up his face.
“Thank you, guys.”
Andro has to gulp, not used to the proximity of His Majesty’s intense stare, practically exuding ‘power’. It’s leaving him rooted to the spot.
The other five bow slightly with their right fists over their hearts.
“So,” Noctis says as he turns on his heels towards his desk, clapping his hands together.
“Where were we?” He strides towards his desk in sure steps. I believe my adviser was about to tell me about a plan the Oracle and her Partner in Divine had devised so we finally can kick the Starscourge’s ass.”