Chapter Text
The birth of Noctis Lucis Caelum was a momentous occasion. When King Regis and Queen Aulea announced his arrival, the entirety of Lucis erupted in cheer. The most fervent worshippers of the royal family gathered in processions in the crown city, lining the streets in tightly-packed, unorganized masses. Regis laughed when he heard from his advisors about how discontented the traffic police were during this day; only a day old and his little boy was causing mischief.
The following nights, Regis could barely leave the boy out of his sight. Noctis was every parent's dream; he slept through the night and hardly cried, and yet the two still lost sleep, waking up in the night just to look upon him, minds still trying to comprehend how something so perfect could come to exist. He had to be woken up in order to be fed, only to go back to sleep for most of the day. The nurses, when asked by Regis and Aulea if this is normal, spoke wistfully about how they wished their children were this peaceful as infants. The King and Queen felt oh so lucky that when he does wake up, his eyes light up with pure joy, not a single bad feeling to invade.
Aulea died suddenly less than a month later.
A part of Regis thanked the Astrals that Noctis would not remember this, as the father stared wide-eyed at nothing as doctors covered his beloveds body and prepared to take her away. He could not bring himself to cry.
A brain aneurysm rupture. The pressure of birthing a child had caused the affected blood vessel to weaken even further. She'd claimed to have had no symptoms prior to the labor, and everything afterward, she had dismissed as simply the stress of giving birth. Regis knew she'd been lying to him; she was always too selfless for her own good.
Regis wished that Noctis had stayed asleep as he shook Aulea's cold body, panic settling in further when he heard his son begin to cry. When he was told to stand back by the group of doctors, one offered to have the baby taken out of the room. Regis paniced and reached for little Noctis, pressing the boy to his chest as he continued to stare helplessly at a scene he already knew had been decided.
He did not cry until the next day, when he saw his son wake in the morning, and he noticed Noctis look at him briefly before his eyes went searching at his father's side, looking to see where his mother had gone. He didn't understand he would never see her again, his little brain thinking she must be somewhere just nearby, and the thought of that made Regis sob over the crib, hands shaking as he goes to pick up Noctis and bring him to his chest.
Noctis did not cry then. His fathers shaking chest did not startle him. He laid his head above Regis' heart, eyes closing as he fell asleep once again.
Regis wept again when he learned of his sons fate. He cried with an anger unlike anything before, not even the death of his father or his wife. Those had been cases of simple misfortune that could happen to anyone. When he receives word that his son is the Chosen King, Regis had to conceal his rage at the God's for damning him so. He looked over to Noctis, who was playing with his dolls, silent as he spun a maginificent story in his head. Completely unaware that he has been doomed to suffer for the actions of people that lived thousands of years before him.
Regis' fear and sadness rears it's head once again as he's going to sleep one night. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to make the spinning in his head cease. He'd already been such a failure. He couldn't keep Noctis' mother safe, couldn't do anything to bring his son down from the proverbial noose. He took his pillow, held it against his chest, and cried.
The sound of his own sniffling masked the sound of little footsteps just outside his door, and as he turned his himself back on his side to sleep, he heard the old door creak open.
"Daddy?"
In the faint light of the moon, Regis could see the boys eye peeking through the thin crack of the door.
"Oh, Noctis!" Regis sat up abruptly, wiping the tears from his face and clearing his throat. "Come in, my dear boy."
Noctis entered the room, feet padding against the hardwoods until he reached his fathers bed. He climbed in, wiggling himself under the heavy winter blankets and snuggling up against Regis' body. The man felt warmth in his chest, tears forming at the corners of his eyes again as he wrapped his arms around his son. Noctis smiled and pushed his head further into his fathers chest.
"Why are you sad?"
Regis' breath caught, looking down to see his sons eyes boring into him. He looked concerned, mouth turned in a frown as his sweet, round eyes continued studying Regis' face.
"What makes you think I am sad, Noctis? You should go back to bed." Regis said. Despite his words, Noctis leaving him alone was the last thing he wanted at the moment. Still, he didn't want his own misery affecting a child so young.
"I heard you crying. I don't like when you're sad." Noctis replied.
Regis sighed. "Noctis, a lot of times, adults get sad about things. You know how you were sad when Ambrosia lost one of her wings?"
Noctis nodded, thinking fondly of the plush chocobo. An ill-fated trip to the washing machine had torn off her left wing, and Noctis had cried all day about it. The maid responsible for the mishap, Annalisse, seemed close to tears herself as she tried to console him.
Regis continued. "But do you remember what we were able to do for Ambrosia?"
"Miss Annalisse sewed her wing back on, and then she was all better!" Noctis giggled, having half a mind to run and grab the plushie, but something told him to stay in his fathers arms.
"So you see, Noctis? You might be sad sometimes, but things always get better. The same goes for me." Regis' voice wavered, but Noctis' smile widened. He giggled, the sweet sound like little bells.
"I love you, daddy." Noctis nuzzled his face into Regis' shoulder.
His sons words brought another horrible weight to his chest; the king angry at the thought of every expression of love from his son being laced with the inevitable day that he would never hear them again. But nevermind the future, he thought, for just this moment.
"Noctis, how would you like to sleep with me tonight?"
The boy sat up and grinned, and before he knew it, his son dashed back from his room with the stuffed chocobo in hand.