hugtopia_logs | Dimming

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Dimming

♥ Who: Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII & OPEN
♥ Where: Ainea's Temple, Valeo, the House + one Network prompt
♥ When: Late on the 5th and the week or so after his awakening.
♥ What: Regis is awake, but his sleep was just a little different than Cor's was...
♥ Rating: PG/PG-13

Ainea's Temple: Awakening (Closed to the Watch Crew/Starts with Noctis) - Where's my mother's open arms?

[Regis doesn't remember going to sleep. In fact, he very vividly remembers being in his office sorting through a last bit of paperwork and expecting Clarus to look in at any moment to make sure he is actually going to bed afterward. Perhaps a stop by Noctis' room beforehand, but then to bed. No more work. No more avoiding an empty room.

It really doesn't seem as if three years have passed since Aulea left them. The pain is as fresh as ever and the chill of their once shared room just as cold. Perhaps he should really more seriously consider changing rooms despite the trouble it would cause. Maybe something even closer to Noctis' room?

Ah, but it's not his office he awakes from sleeping in. Instead, it's a bed in a...temple?

Regis starts as memory crashes over him and in doing so, his hand lands on the shoulder of a figure that is bent over the bed, sound asleep. At first, all he can do is smile sadly, before reaching up to gently brush a hand over his son's hair.]

Noctis.

[There is regret in the soft chuckle that follows.]

It seems everyone was correct when they said children grow up far too quickly.

Valeo: Evening (Open) - Where's my father's lion heart?

[Regis hums softly as he rearranges the potion bottles in this particular cabinet for the fifth, perhaps, sixth time? He's lost track honestly, just finding new patterns to keep his hands and mind busy. There is really no point to it all. A potion is a potion even if the bottle's shape is a little different. This one taller. This one rounder. This one shaped, well, just a bit like a chocobo chick if one squints.

Okay, there is a point. The point is, he and Cor wanted to have this shop going last month, and yet here the doors have not even opened because of Cor growing ill, then himself, and then...

What kind of fortune was it that he changed so and then came back when others just vanished?

Regis sighs and carefully shuts the door on the cabinet as to not jar the glass panels. He then turns to the counter behind him and picks up one more potion bottle. This one is a little different from the others. The glass is thicker and colored a deep purple. He turns it over in his hand for a moment before speaking quietly.]

I certainly hope these are not the changes you were hinting at.

The House: During the Week (Open) - It's like the sun's gone down

[With such a nice backyard and with the kind of people who live in the house that is attached to it, there is little wonder that it gets used as a training space now and again. Of course, the training that is going on right now is quite a bit different than what one might normally consider training. For one thing, the person training is usually holding onto their weapon, not having it float a short distance in front of them, ready for battle, held by an invisible hand.

It's only been five years since he faced down the threats to his city on Founder's Day and already Regis knows the prime of his strength has come and gone. Physically, at least. Now, as odd as it seems, it is easier to wield his sword with the force of his magic behind it than hold it with his own hands and that means learning yet another battle style.

It's like a dance really. Regis has his eyes closed forcing himself to fully rely on his magic and what it tells him about the sword's position. That information he uses to make the sword mirror the actions he makes with his own empty hand. Thrust here. Parry there. There still needs to be precision. Absolute control. Even more than he used in that battle five years ago.

It's a good way to be productive and keep his mind focused on the things he can change and not the things he cannot.]

Network: Video (Open) - Sleeps in the hallowed ground now

[For all the effort that Regis puts into smiling, his smile is a brittle thing, tinged with sadness. Of course, even if his smile was 'normal' it would be immediately obvious something besides a mere sleep happened while he was at Ainea's temple. He looks worn now and older than this 33 years would suggest.]

I wanted to thank everyone who helped out my family and friends while I was gone.

[There is a slight hesitation before he speaks that last word during which he folds his hands in front of himself. Those who met him before and are quick of eye may notice that he is no longer wearing his wedding ring. Instead, in its place, is the Ring of the Lucii which used to rest on his other hand.]

And for those of you who knew what was to come? Words cannot express how grateful I am to you that you said nothing. You are right. I do not believe I could have lived through that twice.

[The message ends there with no further explanation as to what he is specifically speaking of.]

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[His feelings on magic had relaxed a little as he'd lived in this place. It had stopped being a thing to be feared and simply a thing to be respected. Was there evil magic? Oh, of course. He'd seen it first hand. However, he'd also seen good magic. Also first hand. And here, he'd seen magic almost every day for all kinds of things. It was impossible to be scared of something that touched your life on an almost constant basis.

Still, he'd never fought against it before.]

I doubt we're even going to need those, but I thank you for getting them. I'd hate to hurt you and have Cor show up at my doorstep.

[He flashed a cheeky grin and stepped back to draw the longsword at his hip. He didn't have his shield, but he wasn't that worried. Even if he took a few cuts, they'd be no worse than the ones that were already scattered over his body from his brother.]

[Just a tiny bit of a smile pulls up the corner of Regis' mouth.]

I suspect you should ready yourself for a visit or two anyway. It's a side effect of knowing me, I'm afraid. I could tell him to let you be, but he would just ignore it. 'Intelligent disobedience,' I believe is the phrase for such things.

[The words are another little flash of the old Regis, but just as the flash from before, it fades quickly lingering only while Regis takes in Peter's stance and the reach of his weapon, before disappearing as he closes his eyes and draws his magic around him like a cloak, settling his sword into ready position.]

Begin whenever you are ready.

[It was a start and Peter was hopeful that he could at least crumble a few of those walls.

He scuffed his toe against the dirt underfoot and lazily shrugged one shoulder.]

Yes, well. That is what happens when people care about you. They ignore common law and sense in favor of doing what their heart tells them.

[He didn't give any warning. One moment he was standing fulling relaxed, absently toeing at the ground...and then he was kicking the little bit of loosened dirt towards Regis' eyes and his sword was up in a flash, ready to push for any advantage.]

[Regis has just enough time to make a soft amused sound at the comment and then the spar is on. With his eyes closed, he is far less worried about the dirt kicked up as a distraction. He raises his hand to intercept it, at the same time using his magic to shift his sword in the direction he can hear Peter coming from. Without more knowledge of how Peter fights, the motion is only defensive, meant to block. Regis can move toward something more aggressive once he learns Peter's style a bit more.]

[And for a while, it was just that. The testing dance of partners learning how each other moved, how they reacted, how they could be pushed and pulled and coaxed. It started off relatively easy and slow, but Peter was a man of action....and he wanted desperately to chip away at some of the stone that was hiding the smile of the man he'd shared a meal with not so long ago.

They tested and danced and Peter kept his attention split between the blade in the air and the man that was controlling it.]

Your smile is hiding. I miss it and the sharp tongue that waited behind it...

[Regis' concentration is sunk so deeply into sensing where Peter is through his magic that he almost misses the statement. When it does break through to him, his sword pauses a moment as he tries to find a way to answer honestly--for Peter does deserve that--but also in a way that won't worry the young man.

Well, perhaps it is too late to prevent that second one.]

I'm afraid my sharp tongue may have passed away with the one who initially set it free.

[That pause would have earned anyone else a swift boot to the gut, but the whole point of this spar was for Regis to figure out how to use this 'magic grip' on another person. Fighting to his whole abilities and well learned ways would only stomp the man's confidence, not bolden it.

That isn't to say that he completely let the lapse in concentration slide. He tapped that floating blade hard enough to make it sway with his own, then side stepped and lashed out to tap the back of the other king's thigh.]

The passing of loved ones is always difficult. My heart is heavy for your loss. Surely they wouldn't want that delightful wit locked away, though?

She.

[Regis senses the tap coming, but doesn't move from it. After all, it was his lapse that allowed it anyway. He uses the sting to refocus himself, swinging the blade around to follow Peter's movement.]

And she wouldn't, but I fear she is almost the only one who appreciated it. Most don't want to hear wit from their king. They just wish to hear proclimations in their favor.

[Good, the tap worked. His restraint was well worth it, then.]

I mean no offence, but your people sound like a rather entitled, self focused lot. Rude, yes, but to treat you as such is just as if not more so. As for your lady being the only one to enjoy your wit...

[He sidestepped quickly, soft boots soundless on the ground as he reached out to test those reflexes.]

I dare say that we both knew that falsehood as soon as you said it.

I said almost!

[There would usually be a pout following that statement, but Regis is too focused on trying to follow Peter's latest move to do so. He know Clarus and Cor are exceptions to that rule, but they are two among a lot who aren't.]

Unfortunately, I inherited a great many councilors and aids from my father who surrounded himself with that very sort.

[There is a hitch in his words as he tries, briefly, to go more offensive against Peter.]

They are mostly from older families whose support I, unfortunately, need if I am going to protect my country in a time of war.

Inherited? That sounds absolutely awful. I'd hate to even think about having one of my sibling's advisors trying to advise me.

[He snorted, and that bit of amusement earned Regis' blade a score against his ribs.]

Fairly certain Sallowpad would have had my eyes before the end of the first week. No, a ruler's court should be as individual as the ruler themselves. Why keep them around if they offered nothing but discomfort and snide remarks?

Surely your Cor would have been a better choice.

[He ducked back, knocking blades with the other king before he was deftly changing the direction of their dance.]

[Regis can't help but snort under his breath at that suggestion. He puts a bit more force behind his blade as Peter knocks into it, but in the end has to follow the change in direction or risk losing his magical grip on the weapon.]

Cor would have murdered someone before the first day was done. No, his skills are better put to use out in the field as much as I would rather have him at my side. Besides, the council nearly had a collective heart attack when I named my Shield to be their head once injury forced my royal advisor into retirement. Clarus is perfectly suited for the position and it doesn't take him away from my side. Oh, but he was too young, they said even though he was five years older than me.

[His next attack has a bit more force behind it, almost as if he is channeling his anger on his friend's behalf into it.

Probably because he is.]

[What was that? A bit of vinegar? Peter grinned, trusting that Regis couldn't catch him at it since his eyes were closed to focus on his blade.]

From what I've seen of Cor, I do believe you are correct. But I don't understand why he couldn't also advise you? I have many friends, all willing to lend me their ears and their time and their opinions, but my most treasured is my general. Though, he'd give me quiet a nasty kick if he were to hear me say that.

[Another flash of a grin, and he shook his head a little.]

Other people want to take away the sting of an idea that goes against my own. He has absolutely no problems with skewering me with it and leaving me to deal with it.

So, if they butted heads with you so much and tried to fight even that simple choice...why did you keep them? Getting along with your court is essential.

It sounds as if Cor and your general would get along well. Did I ever mention that when he was just a boy he got right in my face and called me a coward? He is a perfect example of the kind of people who I have as my closest advisors. If I am right, they will support me, no question, but if I am wrong, they will not hesitate to call me a fool. Unfortunately, the number of people who I can call 'close advisor' is dwindling.

[Regis has to bite back the urge to snap at Peter for his second question, though. He already answered that, didn't he?]

I have no siblings to help me rule. Instead, I have people who come from old families who hold controlling interests in various parts of the city. If I don't work with them, they punish, not me, but my people, especially the refugees who have fled to the city since my father had to pull back the Wall to Insomnia's ramparts. If we were not being pressed on all sides by an enemy with greater numbers than we have, I would try to dismantle the mess my father and the generations before left behind, but there is just no time to do so.

[Not to mention, he now has a small son to take care of and a ring that is draining his life faster and faster each day it seems.]

[It wasn't about answering the question. Not really. It was about getting Regis to actually listen to the words that were coming out of his mouth. If that made the other man angry with him, so be it.]

Let me see if I have all of this lined up. Your smile and wit and general sense of life have left you because in the time that you slept your lady passed and you've been forced to rule a country that does not truly love you with people who's only interest lay in keeping a controlling hand on your rein?

[He finally stopped moving, their verbal battle much more important than the physical one. If that earned him a strike, then so be it.]

That sounds dreadfully lonely.

[Fortunately, Regis is so focused on his control and Peter's movements that he is able to pull back on the strike when his fellow king suddenly stops. It is for the best really, because Peter's words have struck a chord in him. Regis pulls his weapon back, letting it hover, at ease, near him.]

Yes. It...is extremely lonely.

[So lonely it hurts, but what right does he have to burden Clarus and Cor more than he already does? They are both beyond busy back home as it is.]

[And there it was. That break in the wall, so carefully chipped away at until it finally crumbled enough for Peter to see the ache that it had been protecting. His heart hurt for the man, the pain on Regis' face a physical blow to his chest.

He sheathed his blade, not bothering with the lace around the hilt just yet. Instead, he did what he always did in situations like these. He didn't overthink them. He let himself act on his first thought, and in this case it was to simply close the distance between them and cup Regis' face in his sword calloused hands before kissing him. It was light, almost chaste save for the quick flick of a tongue against the other man's lower lip. Almost shy.

When it broke, Peter didn't move away, sharing their air to keep the intimacy.]

You're not alone. You don't deserve to be alone.

[Regis' eyes fly open with shock when the kiss comes. Of all the things he was expecting, that, of course, was at the bottom of the list. It is so tender and questioning, yet undemanding and comforting, that it shatters that little crack into something much wider.

Honestly, it is also familiar. That push until something cracks and then the tender care that follows. Cor does that too.

A small sound slips from Regis' mouth as a sob gets caught in his throat. Concentration broken, there is a soft chime of crystal as his sword vanishes back into the Armiger. The next moment, he's burying his head in the crook of Peter's neck, arms pulling him closer. He doesn't break down as much as he did that night with Cor in the shop, but it is only because he was able to cry out so much emotion that night. Still, tears wet his eyelashes as he whispers almost silently against Peter's skin.]

Thank you.

[Regis pulled him closer, that small sob on his lips and Peter didn't think twice about simply wrapping his arms around the other man, pulling him in against his chest so that he could turn his head enough to pepper whatever he could reach of Regis' hair and neck with soft kisses.]

You're not alone. I'll never let you be alone in this place.

[He didn't even notice the word slip, and wouldn't until much later, when they'd parted ways and he was going over the evening with a fine toothed comb in his mind. He'd deal with it then. For now, he was much more focused on rubbing reassuring circles against Regis' back.]

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Dimming

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