#its too late...... lets just say she has a carbuncle ring on the other hand

[crystalpallette]

I've been in a fugue state all day and made zero progress on any art ever, and then I zoned out and suddenly its doppel arle with a steel chair. recently all I've been able to draw is vaguely threatening girls in red pen I think something is wrong

[the-truth-will-light-the-sky]

Time would eat away everything, but for now, let this moment be ours

Summary: Young King Regis realizes the strain of being king, but his son is more important than his failing health.

The light peeping from the dark Lucian curtains that hung in the king’s bedroom glimmered upon the Lucian King himself.

He saw the light pink haze of its presence upon his closed eyes, feeling the way his skin touches the exquisite fabric of his similarly exquisite bed.

Lying there for a time, he stretched out his limbs, moving every finger and toe, breathing in the usual scent of woodsy perfume that lingered about his rather enormous room.

When his feet reached beyond the edge of his blanket, he recoiled his legs back. It was far too cold a room to spend in.

It has been a long time ever since he ever felt warmth in this room. 

‘Ever since she left me and ascended,’ Regis suddenly thought.

Somehow, waking up was becoming even harder for him nowadays.

She wasn’t there for him to hold on to in the mornings when he just wanted to remain a man and nothing else, or joke with him in the middle of the night when sleep won’t take them both.

Regis gave up the fight against the cold, however, and braced it, throwing the blanket off of him and shivered as the cold assaulted his skin.

As his bare feet touched the carpeted room, the Lucian king found himself staggering.

The room tilted and he fell on the floor with a groan.

Cursing himself for being a tad too dramatic, he hauled himself up on the edge of the bed. He inspected himself for any bruises, but there was none.

Only, he found himself unable to properly use his right leg. He poked at it, tried to twist it and even shook it. He laughed at the way he would have looked.

But that would have been for another day. Today, however, Regis found that he couldn’t even walk properly.

A man of thirty three who couldn’t even walk straight.

The weight of the ring in his left hand felt even heavier now.

Ah.

He was sure he wouldn’t have enough time. And so he walked with a limp to where his son slept in his chamber.

The moment he opened it, a smile quirked at the side of the king’s lips.

Huddled between numerous pillows and an assortment of thingamabobs, young Noctis Lucis Caelum slept as soundly as ever.

‘The burdens of the world are not yours to carry,’ Regis thought to himself as he slowly sat on the bed. ‘Let them be mine.’

His arms softly gathered his son, feeling the child’s slow breathing on his skin as he cuddled him, eyes shut tight with stars on his lashes.

Time would eat away everything, but for now, let this moment be ours, my son.

He felt the young boy’s arms reaching out to hug his father, and Regis couldn’t help but cry in joy.

Regis Lucis Caelum has always been dramatic, Aulea always said. And she was right.

She was always right.

The young king brushed the stray dark hairs away from the boy’s face and smiled as he saw the way Noctis’ lips moved, talking of carbuncles and fantastic worlds that only roamed freely in his dreams.

He let the child sleep the early morning away as he hugged the boy closer, pushing back his own urge to cry. But he did cry.

And Cid could call him a sissy over and over again like broken vinyl player for as long as he wants but he doesn’t give a damn.

Today, I shall be no one else other than ‘Father.’ Being King can wait.

The next day, young Noctis pulled a long black stick from the edge of his bed, wondering why his father would even carry such a heavy thing.

Regis chuckled as he observed his son’s curious expression, the young boy’s brows meeting together in a soft clash.

‘Whassis?’ the boy asked in a jumble. Regis smiled as he matted the boy’s unruly hair down.

The thing in question was in fact, a cane. Made of exquisite material of Tenebraen oak and Lucian metals, the cane was gilded with fine mythril-like silver. But of course, the handle was the important part of it. It was made of nothing special, really. But it was very comfortable indeed.

The cane is strong enough to injure anyone if he so wishes to hit someone with it. But of course not, there are no rooms for such violence in Regis’ mind, yet.

The father held the cane in his fingers and laid on his stomach on the bed, leaning closer to his son.

‘It’s a toy,’ he grinned conspiratorially.

‘Toy?’ the boy asked curiously, a smile forming in his lips.

‘Yes. And it’s a magic wand!!!’ Regis exclaimed, suddenly turning to lie on his back as he pointed the cane upwards to the ceiling with a dramatic swish.

Noctis’ eyes grew wide and his imagination run wild. The young boy squealed as he demanded his father to do tricks and magic, gripping Regis’ hair and jumping on his stomach, being the carefree boy that he should be.

The young king obliged, of course.

Outside the room by the door, Cor Leonis stifled a laughter. He’s supposed to be on guard duty…silent guard duty. But how could he?

‘Sorry I’m late. Ignis wanted to borrow some books. What is it?’ his partner V inquired with a quirk of her brow as she settled in her place opposite him.

‘The king is now a horse,’ Cor said trying to act so formal about it, but he couldn’t even piece the sentence together without laughing.

‘The hell are you talking about?’ she asked, incredulous.

’Today his majesty is wielding a magic wand,’ Cor replied with a snort.

‘Ah so today is pretend day, isn’t it,’ V said with a similar snort. ‘So the young prince found it amusing to ask the king to change himself into a horse.’

’Seems so.’

V found herself snorting at the image of her friend and liege pretending to be a horse just to make his son smile.

‘You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Cor Leonis. That’s rude,’ she said, but the mirth in her eyes showed how much she rather liked the image of father and son shielded away in their own carefree world on a rather hectic day.

‘I should say the same to you,’ Cor replied back, his ears red as he tried not to laugh too much.

From the inside, they heard the prince squeal in delight.

‘A jabberwocky!’

‘A cat!’

‘A garula!’

All sorts of noises spilled outside the room. 

Clarus Amicitia walked passed and then doubled back as soon as he saw the two supposed guards red in the face, eyes spilling with tears and all sense of dignity as Crownsguard rolling down the floor as they struggled, no, shamelessly laughed by the door. 

As soon as he heard the King crying forth a declaration of war against peas and vegetables and a spirited cry of agreement from the young prince Noctis, Clarus Amicitia headed on towards the meeting room.

He shut the door tight behind him and smiled at the people who were waiting.

Today, I’ll let you be a father, my friend, Clarus thought to himself.

And so the battle was won and Regis Lucis Caelum had successfully taught his son to eat small pieces of vegetables. He had ‘swished’ the accursed vegetables into ‘marshmallows’ with his magic wand, his son’s imagination running wild as the young boy chomped down his supposed green enemies who have turned into delectable sweets. 

Regis had never been so thankful for owning a cane. It doesn’t matter how the Ring takes away much of his years. 

Today. 

Today is what will always matter.