hugtopia_logs | feb catch-all

[They're about halfway through a training session - warping today, as he's been trying to practice warping two people without relying much on her sharing energy - when Noctis calls for a break sooner than they usually would. They end up on the roof overlooking the temple grounds, as people come and go beneath them, somewhat private and out of earshot but not so far up as to be dangerous. Noctis sits down on the edge of the roof, legs kicking idly over the side.]

Hey, Pyra... I wanna tell you something.

[ She’s noticed in these past few months of them training together, that he tends to like high places: perches where he might either sit and rest, or ledges onto which he might grapple with his warp to hang from his sword. For this instance, he’s chosen a good vantage point. Beyond them is the quiet afternoon of the temple grounds below, the priests preparing for the day’s end; further out is the city, the barrier...

She looks at his back when he speaks, and then after a moment, she joins him sitting at the edge, close enough to reach for his hand. A few stories high upon the building like this, the breeze rustles through their hair. ]

Yes...?

[ Each time they train, he’s been making great strides. She wonders if there is something else on his mind. ]

Might seem kind of a weird thing to share out of the blue, but… bear with me.

[She'll understand by the time he finishes, he hopes. Otherwise it's too senseless a story to be sharing.]

Back home, Lucis has been losing territory to Niflheim for ages, especially since the wall kept getting pulled back. As a result the Crown City started taking in refugees since before I was born, and it turns out a lot of them were adept at using the king's magic. One of them helped to form and train a part of the army, and he ended up really close to our family. His whole department was formed to protect me and my dad. We really trusted him to take care of us, and he was pretty dependable. And since he was there for us my whole life he… kind of became an uncle, in a lot of ways.

[He remembers trying to climb the man like a tree as a child, scrambling over layers of armor, tugging on his cape. He'd been hefted on the captain's hip more times than he can count growing up in the Citadel, when he was wild and impulsive and loved to run away for attention, sending the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard into a tizzy while they were away from the front lines. The man was there for his warp training, guided him through summoning weapons when Gladio lacked the retainer connection, steadied his hand in practice sessions with a sharp word or stern look.

Everything is so much worse in retrospect, thinking about how much of Noct's life he'd been present for.]

[ When he begins to speak of his world, she thinks at first it is to share a lighter story; seeing his more serious expression, however, makes her think otherwise.

He speaks of a man-- a refugee-- who wasn't part of his family, but became a like part of his family that Noctis regards him almost as an uncle. In this way, the not-by-blood three brothers he has with him now makes much more sense, since the foundations of adopting others into his circle had been established before. That's a lovely tale alone, but it seems he has more to say.

Cautiously, she nods to show that she is listening, allowing him to continue. ]

Edited 2020-02-28 02:13 (UTC)

[He's quiet for a bit, almost long enough to make it seem as if that's it, story over. The giveaway is likely his expression, though: conflicted, angry. A quiet sadness, beneath it all. Finally, he continues,]

He was lying. I don't why, I don't know for how long- at least a decade, probably more. He was working with Niflheim. My dad trusted him, shared his power so he could protect us, and that man murdered him and let Insomnia fall. He betrayed everyone-

[His hand tightens, clenching around hers, and he catches himself and jerks it away before he hurts her, mumbling an apology. His anger is more visible with the words out, though fortunately not as powerful as it had been when he actually found out. He'd very nearly broken his hand on a tree that day, and it's lucky Cor and Gladio had been there to work him through his rage more productively.]

[ She draws a silent breath as he reveals this man's betrayal of his family, bringing a hand up to her chest as if she could feel the sting of it herself. But there is no true way to understand what he's gone through, not with something like that happening to him or his father. A loved one being murdered by someone else that one trusted-- it's awful to think about.

He jerks his hand away from hers before she can stop him, and she's left looking at her empty palm in stunned silence. She has known since their very first conversation how upset he is over his father's death, but to hear of the details of it... His anger and grief is absolutely valid. ] Noct...

[ Suddenly, she feels a strange regret over something she had no power over: that she hadn't been there for him, in this faraway world, to offer comfort or condolences. It hurts knowing that he has suffered. ]

That's... horrid. [ Carefully, she places a hand upon his shoulder lightly; not for this world, but for him. ] ...I'm so sorry.

[Noctis gives himself a moment to settle, rein in that quiet anger, hands clasping together on his knees.]

I'm not telling you this for sympathy or anything. Nothing's gonna change what happened. I told you so you'd have some context for when I say that I haven't shared my power with anyone since then. I didn't know who I could trust with it, who wouldn't just stab me in the back like Dad. And it's not right, it's not fair to anybody who could use it, who'd be safer if I did.

[Cor. The Crownsguard who survived Insomnia. Iris. The hunters who fought day and night to defend Lucis. His father supported so many while he lived, and he'd left it at only three, while everyone else was risking their lives, fighting for him, dying for him. Would Jared have lived, if he'd had a way to defend himself? What about the hunters whose dogtags they'd recovered out in the wild, not even a body to bring home to those left behind?

He gazes down at his hands, palms open to the sky. The covenant marks are there, a rare day when they're uncovered, staring back as if mocking him. She'd said it herself: so much power. And still, he'd been mastered by his own fear and resentment for so long.]

I don't... want to be like that anymore. Not when it could save people.

[ Even if he gave no context for not sharing his powers like his father had, she wouldn't have questioned it. Now that she knows, she sees that the betrayal, too, is a scar upon him, one that he might have readily carried because not trusting is a natural reaction, if not a conscious decision, in response to something like that.

However, it seems that he's ready to overcome it. She wonders if something has happened to push him in this direction. With a tender tone, she speaks:] I hope that... no one expects you to share your power, if you are not ready.

[ However.

"Not when it could save people."

...Yes, this is the only reason more power should be shared. ] But it seems like you've come to a decision.

Edited 2020-02-29 05:21 (UTC)

No one's asked, [is his very simple answer, sitting up to gaze forward instead. Rather than focus on what he can't change, better to consider what he can, instead.] Maybe that's why I haven't faced it before. They made it my choice, and I just ran away instead. I'm... I'm ready now, to choose. I want to.

[And then he turns towards her, his expression still serious but also... inviting. Almost hopeful.]

Pyra... it's yours, if you'll take it.

[ Her hand nearly drops from his shoulder, watching his expression, repeating his words through her mind as her lips part as if to reply, then stop before she speaks, lost in thought. This had been the reason of his questions in their previous conversation: he wants to share his power so that she might protect herself. Her. Her of all people!

(She, who is lying to him still, concealing so much from him. She does not need his power to protect herself.)

First and foremost, she wants to reassure him: he had been understandably guarded not to give his power to others after that betrayal, and it's tragic that he felt that not doing so had been the equivalent to running away. Second, and at the same time, she wants to praise him for marching forward. This is no easy choice to make. And third--

"It's yours--" It's an offer, heartfelt, from him to her, to be the one to overcome the one with whom he might take a step towards something, instead of his belief he might be running away. "--if you'll take it." He is ready to overcome his barrier, and of course he is. Of course, for she believes that he's always had this courage within him, beating strongly within his heart, powering a will far greater than whatever he channels. He doesn't realize that if she accepts, she, too, is overcoming a barrier of her own. But is she ready?

Her expression shifts from surprise to hopeful to uncertain, to conflict, looking away during all of this internal deliberation, until finally she looks back at him. In that moment, meeting his gaze, she knows her answer. Perhaps she should believe a little more of the words she says to him for herself; that he doesn't need to make others feel safe, because he makes them feel brave. If it's with him, just with him... perhaps she finally can be, too. Not brave enough to tell him any truths of herself, but brave in this way, to accept this from him. She wants to be someone worthy of his trust. ]

I... [ She swallows, clearing her throat, not even having noticed that for a moment she had forgotten what she had wanted to say. Finding her composure thankfully helps her find her voice. ] ....I... would be honored. [ A pause. No, that's not right. She's not accepting because it is an honor, or that she cannot refuse. She tries again: ]

Ah-...That is, I... [ Nope, still fumbling here. Eventually, she shakes her head, but- no, no! Not shaking her head, that would mean 'no', and that's not what she's trying to say here! Quickly, she begins to nod, and by the time she's done her hair is slightly tossed with the movement. She breathes out one word: ] Yes.

[He watches her work through the whole gamut of emotions while holding his breath, and when she finally answers - then re-answers, then re-re-answers - he can't help it, he huffs out a quietly nervous laugh.]

Are you sure? You don't really sound it. [He smiles, a little uncertain.] It's okay if you want to think about it first. The offer's not going to expire.

[It's true that he'd like her to accept, and it's not like she can't change her mind later, but it would admittedly hurt if she felt the need to. Best be certain upfront than regret a decision later and have to break an admittedly quite personal connection. He understands regret too well to wish it upon anyone else.]

--I'm sure!

[ Her hand upon his shoulder has now reached for his hand, as if to emphasize her point, blurting out the words despite the carefulness she's help up until now. ]

Th...that is, I am sure.

[ She continues more softly this time, once again clearing her throat. She did her thinking about it just now! ]

I'm... glad, that you want to share this with me. [ Really and truly. The only reason she's not smiling is because she's flabbergasted by the offer itself! Give her a moment or two, that smile will return. ]

[Her hesitation still makes him a little uneasy, but... there's something cute and familiar about it, too. Like when Prompto gets excited but isn't sure that it's not some treat dangled in front of his face to be pulled away at the last second. That too is a familiar feeling for sure, and it would be a fair reason for nerves.

Well, he's offered, and he meant what he said about there being no expiration. That means he won't take it back no matter what her answer might be, either. It's her call to make.]

...Okay. Just- I can break it later, if you don't like how it feels. Or if it gets in the way of your own power. I asked Somnus if he thought it might be a problem, but he said you'd be able to choose... I think that means it'll be fine.

[In theory, anyway. He trusts them both, and at this point she's familiar enough with his magic that she's likely to understand how a proper bond might mesh as it's happening.]

[ After all the times she's shared her power with him... she thinks it will be fine, too. Her hand squeezes his reassuringly. ]

I like... the way your hand feels in mine, Noct. [ Gently, she begins to interlace her fingers through his. ] ...And I'd say that nothing could compare to that.

[ A quiet smile dawns upon her expression. ] But maybe you sharing your power... might be a close second.

[ So, yah. She's all for this. ]

[He can't help his immediate blush, ducking his head to look down at their hands. His voice as a mumble as he manages,]

Me too.

[He likes it. Holding hands with her, walking with her, talking with her, training together. Small comforts he's not used to, luxuries he could ill afford in the past. The chance to learn and to grow at a walking pace instead of breakneck, to be closer to people outside of his immediate royal circle, make friends on his own terms like with Prompto. So much about this place, weird and unsettling as it may be, has been strangely... healthy? Is that the word? ...Yeah, healthy.

He gives her hands a soft squeeze.]

Then... like when we train. I'll open up my power to you, and if you don't resist it, once we're done, it'll stay there. And then I can teach you, too.

[ This time, she doesn't decide to comment upon his blush or tease him further. Privately, however, she thinks to herself that the quiet blush suits his quiet smile: in this moment, it seems that she's said something that has made him content, and she's happy that it did.

It seems that she'll now be the one to be taught in how to handle a bit of his power. ]

Whenever you are ready, then.

[ She squeezes his hand in return. ]

[He nods, shifting to face her properly, and uses their joined hands to tug her closer. With his eyes closed, he leans in and lightly rests his forehead against hers. It might not be a requirement, but the contact helps him focus, and this is one bonding he doesn't want to screw up, not when there are other magics involved here, not when she's trusting him like this. And with that, he begins:

Under his breath he murmurs something, the words unintelligible not due to volume but because they aren't spoken in the standard Lucian tongue. It's easy to tell that he's out of practice with it; he stumbles over words, he pauses, but each time he picks back up again and the effect of the pledge is not dampened in any way by his struggle. As he speaks, the familiar blue of power lights up around him, a crystalline glimmer covering his whole body. That light coalesces around his limbs, weaving heavy threads where their hands are joined, merging together into a taut rope of energy that binds them. Before long the tether is thick and unbreakable, an odd mixture of firm and delicate, as if she could easily break free if she wished but it holds her in place even so. Had they not been training together before, she might have found it to be more alien, invasive. Instead, as the tether unravels thread by thread to knit itself inside her, under her skin, it's made intentionally painless and familiar. The bond he's creating between them welcomes her into the fold, beckoning for her to join them- them, as there are others now, her soul met by the links to three others, two close and one far away. She has no deeper access to them, nor they to her, but they all share common threads tying them to Noctis and his magic. Those threads burrow deeper and deeper, seeking out her core and twining around it with an unshakeable certainty that it belongs there.

Noctis's hands tighten, the blue around him pulsing, intensifying, and then all at once it spreads like a cocoon around her as well, and he inhales, long and deep.]

By the light of our star, let the bond be forged, [he finishes with words she can understand, louder this time, and a thrum of power passes between them, conveyed by one simple phrase. His magic settles within her, new and strange but not especially invasive, more of an extended hand for her to accept if she so chooses. When he opens his eyes and lifts his head, his eyes are brighter than normal for a second or two, lit from within by the glow that surrounds their bodies, until it too begins to fade.

And then he lets himself breathe, because that was... a lot.]

[ She does not understand his incantation, and she wonders what intention he imbues behind it: is it a request that he asks of the source of his magic, advocating for her worthiness to it, or is it like an evocation, where he is seeking to awaken it further, pulling out thread of it to tie him to another. She puts these thoughts aside as she patiently watches him begin, the magic lifting from his body like a halo, crowning him in a soft blue light, beginning to flow down his arms.

She closes her eyes, bowing her head in respect of this light, and he will hear only a short intake of air when it finally washes over her skin, as if she's encountered something entirely unexpected. The crystal upon her shines, and briefly, the lines upon her body alight with a similar glow in response--

It's as if she's both struck with a pulse of a spinning star and the caress of an opposing, gentle solar wind. The net of the aurora dips but holds with her breath, keeping her from sinking into the magic. It's light itself, and like light, the blue is only a sliver of what she can see or feel-- it's strikingly a very mortal feeling, knowing that she does not know. But now that it is weaving into her, her eyes, her mind are opened to the phenomena of what it is. She doesn't just feel him, she feels his world through it, its beauty reminding her of all of those she has met from his world: dazzling like Noctis, blinding like Somnus. But of course; they are a part of their world, and this very same light is theirs.

It is different from the markings of his covenants; it is the crystal of his world, a source, a natural divine not begotten from worship or hope, but something that simply is, an entity that needs not be anointed by any man. It's familiar, too familiar, like herself; yet here he is, channeling it as if he is a part of it. It does not harm. It only is, and by his hand, his intention welcoming, his want to help, it has direction to be benevolent, whereas before it simply existed. That feeling, too, is almost nostalgic. Now his power washes over her and within, and for a moment it feels as if he is the one holding her to him, if only because this light bears his signature, soft and warm and friendly, welcoming, and not wanting to cause any harm. Gently, it sinks deeper to find a place not to integrate with her own power, but to dwell as another source, one that she accepts.

By the end of it she's looking at him as her hands tightly holding his, eyes bright with wonder. Her lips part, allowing out a silent exhale: it's his name, whispered as if she's seeing him after months, years of not. ]

[He offers a tentative look as she calls his name, studying her up and down, focusing less on the magic and rather on the bond now formed between the two of them. As far as he can tell it feels... normal, mostly. As normal as any time their magics mesh together, warm and soft and familiar. A part of him had expected it to go wrong, because so many things in his life often did. To have it feel like this is... nice. A comfort he'd wanted but hadn't dared to fully expect.

He almost smiles, but- he has to check, first. He can't know for sure until she says it.]

Are you... okay? Can you feel it, does it hurt?

[It shouldn't, in theory. Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto all handled it fine for the most part, even if they'd never experienced magic before; there'd been no pushback, and the moments after had been tiring but exciting, thrilling, new. With Pyra... she'd had power already, but it had welcomed his presence, same as it always had. He's hoping it was the same for her, too.]

[ ”Does it hurt—“ The question strikes her as absurd enough that for a moment or two after he asks it, she stares at him. Then, the laughs breathlessly, bringing up her free hand to cover her lips. ] N-no, no.... Not at all.

[ Does it hurt, as if anything he can do might actually hurt her! He’s been doing nothing but good to her. This, too, feels... ] It feels as if... [ Adopting a more reflective tone, she closes her eyes to focus inward, only to find that she need not expend any concentration at all. The tether is there without even needing to look for it. It’s astounding, this bond that feels strong, tying her to him. It is that she wishes to respect, to keep distinct from her own power.

Opening her eyes, her gaze trails from their joined hands up his arm, finally reaching his face. When she meets his eyes, her own are feather-soft. He seems concerned, as if he had expected something to go wrong in the process. ]

It feels as if you are there, in me. [ More than just holding his hand, even, or that of an embrace. It’s a connection more spiritual than that, made from trust— a delicate trust that she will honor. How anyone could ever think of betraying this trust after having this power imbued into them, she cannot fathom; that, or perhaps she’s more sensitive to it, as someone who is attuned to energies in general. His feels wonderful. ]

A treasure, right here. [ Right here, she says, with a tap to her chest, over where her heart would be. Saying this, she’s smiling before she even knows she is, pleased, happy, and as if flattered in a way, that he has chosen her to give this incredible bond. ]

[He blinks at that, eyes widening. A treasure...?]

Never heard it called that before.

[It's a little embarrassing, but like before, it's not... bad. There's something warm and soft about it, a comfortable feeling. Every bond he's made has been different, though there are echoes within each of those that came before; he'd felt Gladio in Ignis, both in Prompto, and he feels them all in hers. It's a little like the ring and the power of kings- the old helping to guide the new, except for this there is no pain he's meant to trade for that power. It's tiring, yes. There's always a drain that comes hand in hand with sharing a fragment of your soul with another. But it's a familiar sort of weariness, even if he's only done it a few times. Like sore muscles after a really good training session. It only feels like this because it worked.

He musters a smile, quietly grateful that she's always so keen on holding hands. With the guys he'd been quick to break contact, still too young and wanting to look cool in front of his friends, acting like it didn't affect him that much. Right now he wants to hold on to this feeling.]

I'm glad it worked. I figured, but... I dunno. [It's nice to be proven right.]

[ She won’t be letting go of his hand, shy or not. In fact, close to him like this, it doesn’t feel so much as static bond to her, but a gentle pull towards him, as if it both a magnet and a reminder to whom this magic belongs. ] You were stumbling over your words in the beginning...

[ In truth she wonders what tradition made those words to create this bond he gives others, who made them, or which of his gods taught his family how. She wonders if the incantation is necessary at all, or if it is simply ritualistic padding upon the intent to share their magic—

(Briefly, she recalls when she first awakened— it had been after the fact that the ceremony was added to... )

—But perhaps that doesn’t matter. Upon the edge of the roof, she scoots closer to him. Her smile is hints at coyness, letting him know this isn’t an actual critique, but a tease.

”I'm glad it worked. I figured, but... I dunno.”

Before she had mentioned how she had realized how much she underestimated him, not just in power, but in his heart. That he’s had some doubt, no matter how small, in himself for establishing this between them is—

More softly, she says this as she leans in, taking in his smile: ] I... think that you underestimate yourself, too, sometimes.

[ Have a little more confidence in yourself, is what she’s saying! ]

[The pink in his cheeks is back at the mention of his fumbling. He knows she intends no mockery but he can't help feeling self-conscious. It's harder than it looks!]

It's a dead language, okay? Been a while...

[How long ago was it that he'd done this with the guys? More recently with Prompto, and he'd totally fumbled with that too, but it was years for Gladio and Ignis. It's a lot of old words that don't get used on a daily basis, easy to forget. He'd had to sit down and remember for hours before he'd mustered the courage to even ask her.

The fluster carries forward to her last comment, too, against his will and better judgement.]

Underestimated... you're probably the only one to ever say that.

[He's been informed of his ego plenty of times in the past, that's for sure. And it's true that he has one, but it's mostly in relation to his battle prowess- which he knows that he has. It's everything else that's always given him trouble. The magic, the bonds, looking after himself to an extent... he's got flaws aplenty. But this, at least, he did right. And he'll accept the compliment for what it is, blushing aside. Hell, as it sinks in more just how easy and successful this actually was, he might even be preening a little.]

[ They've joked about his ego before, but this compliment is entirely warranted. Let him have this little victory. He has chosen to trust her-- her, of whom he knows so little-- with this power. She doesn't want to squander that trust; she wants to rise to honor it by treating it carefully.

And, she's nothing if not stubborn when letting others know they are amazing or wonderful or deserving of praise. It's her opinion, yes, she knows, but so often has she seen others diminish themselves or their accomplishments. It almost feels like a victory to her, that he's accepted this praise.

She spies the preening... and smiles with her nod. ] Mm. [ Who else could make a bond like that with her? Not many, she is certain. If the connection wasn't worthy or compatible to her essence, it wouldn't have taken root. Somehow, he managed to tether a part of his divine right of magic to the matrix of incomprehensible energy within her that somehow makes up her being-- and all through trust. That's an accomplishment. Unfortunately, she cannot tell him this. ] After this... [ If she can, she'll lift a hand up to his face. Reaching out just so that the tips of her fingers brush beneath the angle of his jaw, she'll tilt his head to look upward.

There we go. Better posture. More confidence. He should be proud of what he's done today. Let him preen. ] I hope you're able to believe in yourself, [ Her hand falls back to take his. ] just a little more.

end of the month;

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