FFXV: Subvert Fate

1 - Departure

The throne room is a close, vertical construction of dark obsidian, weak sunlight shining through in slotted rays. The ruler is on his throne, hair streaked with age but eyes unblemished by time. He gazes down at the dais in front of him, at the figures arrayed before him, feeling the weight of this moment in the air.

His dark-haired son, still young and petulant in the way of a prince, is framed by his sworn kingsguard. His self-proclaimed Shield with his dark eyes stands behind the prince to his left, the prince's adviser with his critical, intelligent eyes to the right. Further to the left is the prince's friendly, blonde supporter and further to the right is the braided head of the newest member of the kingsguard. His advisors stand at attention despite his son's clear dismissal of the moment.

"The decreed hour is come," Regis says, his eyes on his son. "Set forth with my blessing, Prince Noctis." His voice resonates in the hall.

Noctis bows, somehow making the gesture look mocking. "Thank you...," he says, looking up at his father under long, dark bangs. "You Majesty." The title is said with a whisper of a sneer.

The two advisors to the right both flick their eyes to Noctis briefly, the many in worry, the woman in what could be reproach. Neither say anything though, the woman returning to watch the king intently.

Regis restrains a sigh of displeasure. He summons regal dignity. "Take your leave and go in the grace of the gods."

Noctis straightens back up, his own displeasure clear on his face. "Right," he says, eyes flitting to his father briefly in challenge and perhaps anger before he turns without ceremony. His back receded quickly from view, Regis's advisors mumbling in discontent, Regis's own face unhappy at the proceedings. Noctis's retainers look startled and confused, turning to bow to the king before racing after Noctis. The strategist looks to Regis briefly behind his glasses with unease he struggles to hide before leaving. The woman guard is last to go, meeting the king's eyes with a knowing look, her coat swinging behind her as she follows his son with poise.

""""""

Out on the steps, the prince's friends are talking low amongst themselves as Noct walks briskly to the waiting ar. Cor Leonis, his father's guard is waiting for them, leaning against the body of the Regalia, the sleek car sparkling obsidian in the sun.

"Well, princes will be princes," Prompto says, running a hand through his blonde hair, his only sign of agitation. His eyes on Noctis are worried.

"So much for royal protocol," Ignis mutters softly, gloved hands at his sides, keen eyes thoughtful.

"Not like you had to deliver a formal address," Gladio admonishes Noctis openly, his muscular arms across his chest.

Chrysanthem says nothing, not watching Noct, but looking back to the top of the steps. Ignis follows Chrys's eyes as the king's captain, Drautos, calls out, "Your Highness," from the palace entrance.

Noct does stop and turn at that. Drautos is escorting Regis down the stairs. The king clearly plans to catch up to his son despite the brace on his leg and the cane gripped tightly in his hand. "What now?" Noctis asks and catches a look from Chrys at his ungracious tone.

He climbs back up the stairs to meet his father halfway. He can feel his advisors and friends at his back, a mixture of support and reproach. He knows he is being unfair to his father, but he resents being sent away on the eve of the peace talks with Niflheim. He should be here at his father's side, not running off to Altissia.

"I fear I have left too much unsaid," Regis says to not only his son, but to his son's kingsguard as well. "You place a great burden on those who would bear it with you."

"You're one to talk," Noctis retorts lowly.

Regis looks beyond Noctis to his friends, the companions who will endure so much to see this through. More than they know yet, steadfast as they are. "I ask not that you guide my wayward son," he addresses the four companions, young and old eyes gazing back at their king. "Merely that you remain at his side."

Ignis bows, as does Chrys. Gladio and Prompto follow suit. "Indeed, your grace," Ignis says, tone serious.

"We'll see the prince to Altissia if it's the last thing we see," Gladio promises, young bluster in his tone that makes Regis smile slightly.

"Yeah, what he said," Prompto says earnestly, increasing the size of the king's smile. Chrys merely nods to the king, his eyes meeting hers in an exchange of a deeper promise. Ignis marks the exchange with curiosity but does not comment.

"Hate to break this up, but Cor's got the motor running," Noctis says dismissively to cover up his discomfort. He starts walking away. Ignis and Gladio exchange a glance and follow him. Gladio will likely reproach Noct later and Ignis will keep his thoughts to himself. Prompto bobs a quick bow to the king and heads for the car. "He's in your hands, Drautos," Noct calls over his shoulder.

A hand catches Noctis's wrist and he meets Chrysanthem's dark eyes. "And another thing," his father is saying from the steps. As his father descends, Chrys is quiet, but her eyes are critical with rebuke.

"What?" noctis asks her, a bit more harshly than he intended.

Still reticent to express her opinions in front of him, she finally finds enough courage to say, "Do not be so quick to dismiss your family, my prince." Her face doesn't betray any emotion. "Their advice and love are precious."

Noct looks away from her. Chrys doesn't speak much but when she does, unfortunately she is always right and always wise.

Regis has reached him. "Do mind your manners around your charming bride-to-be."

Noctis walks back up to him. He bows with a decidedly exaggerated flourish. "Your Majesty as well," he says, then adds a touch of humor to his voice. "Try to mind yours around our esteemed guests from Niflheim."

Regis smiles with graceful humor. "You have no cause for concern," he tells his son, warmth creeping back into his tone.

"Nor do you," Noctis tells his father, finding his own tone more earnest than sarcastic now.

"Take heed," his father says quietly, "Once you set forth, you cannot turn back."

"You think I would?" Noctis snaps, forgetting to be kind. He looks away for a moment to remind himself his father is not questioning his commitment. The tone of his father's voice implies there may be a double meaning that Noctis does not yet understand.

"I only need to know that you are ready to leave home behind," his father says, suddenly looking his age.

Noctis tries to shrug off the serious turn this goodbye has taken. "Don't know about you, but I'm about as ready as I'll ever be." He turns and sees his friends waiting for him, Chrys holding on to the open back door, her face turned to him and the king. Her dark eyes are so sad and Noct wonders why.

"Take care on the long road," Regis says.

Noctis stops and turns one last time. His father meets him on the steps. They stand facing each other. "Wheresoever you go," Regis tells him. "The Line of Lucis goes with you." He puts his hand on Noctis's shoulder. "Walk tall, my son."