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Chapter Text

When they came for the crown of Tenebrae, they ran the sword straight through Queen Sylva's spine.

Luna could remember the feeling of the blood seeping through her shoes. The damp grass, slick with her mother's blood, twinkled in the blazing heat of her home burning around her. Ravus... Ravus laid on the ground, his face buried in the sylleblossoms and their mother's entrails. He looked... he looked like a child at that moment; a lonely, sad, lost child.

Ravus had always been strong. He was born to be King, to rule where Lunafreya couldn't. He would be able to hold Tenebrae from the hand of Niflheim while Lunafreya went forward as the Oracle. He would protect her because that was what brothers did.

And it was Lunafreya's duty to protect the little boy who smiled shyly at her behind his Cosmogony book, who looked at her like she was a light in the darkness. He was so young, so unaware of what would come in the future.

But Luna knew. Luna knew because the Gods whispered in her ear. She knew what they had planned and knew that the little boy before her would become a man, and that man would become a King.

One day, not too far into the future, that King would sit upon a red velvet throne and accept death with open arms just as her mother had. His spine would shatter and she could all but hear the squelch of steel running through willing, pliant flesh and saw against hard bone.

And Luna knew in that moment, as her feet stopped and she pulled her hand away from King Regis, that she had a choice. She had a decision to make, and that choice was more than her. It was more than anything.

It was a choice she could not—no, would not—regret.

Because in her blood ran the blood of the Oracles, those who spoke to the Gods and the Gods would answer to in return.

But more than that, her mother's blood ran through her. Her mother, whose body lay broken in front of Ravus, whose crown of Sylleblossoms and ice glistened in her blood. It was the woman who had thrown herself in front of her child, who refused to sacrifice one to save them all.

Lunafreya would do the same.

Standing in the meadow, watching as Noctis and King Regis faded into the distance while the MTs surrounded her, Luna reached up and grabbed at the moon pendant her mother had given her the first time she heard the whisper of the Glacian in her head. Luna's hand tightened around it, closing her eyes. She could feel the metal, cold to the touch, bite into her skin.

She didn't open them until she felt something put its hand on her shoulder.

"Little Princess, foolish princess. You have made the wrong choice. Weak, just like your Mother. Just like your brother."

Luna looked up at General Glauca, at the beast she had only heard of in nighttime stories from Maria or through the snippets of talks she could hear through half-closed doors.

She said nothing as she dropped the necklace, letting her hand drip blood across the field of Sylleblossoms, painting their petals purple.

"You should have run, Little Princess. You should have kept going and never looked back."

Luna tilted her head up and stared at the slot where she imagined General Glauca's eyes should have been.

"You should've done so, too."

The magitek-armored hand across her cheek was hot like fire, but Lunafreya did not flinch. She wanted to cry out, to bite her tongue, to say something—anything. But her mother had taught her better.

Her mother was a Queen, and if she could no longer wear her crown, Lunafreya would do it for her.

She lifted her head, thinking of the weight of the bloody crown of sylleblossoms and ice.

One who wears a crown does not bend their neck, lest the weight snap it.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Princess of Tenebrae, child of the Moon and Ice, daughter of the Oracle, promised herself at that moment as she forced her chin up in defiance as another slap shattered her cheekbone that she would never bend her neck.

Not to General Glauca. Not to the Empire. Not even to the Gods themselves.

And a voice, hot like fire, whispered her promise back to her through the flames.

Two years later, as she stood before her people as she Ascended to the status of True Oracle, Lunafreya wondered if Glauca wished he had taken her words to heart.

Because, as she pulled out the ceremonial knife her brother had hidden in her Oracle robes and slit her palm from one end of her lifeline to the other, Lunafreya knew that she did not. She wanted to see his face unmasked, wanted to watch as he realized the weight of his words had not broken her, that his actions had built the fire of defiance within her belly.

And she allowed her blood to drip across the Sylleblossoms laid out before her in offering.

It was magic. It was Tenebrae magic that was whispered of in the hills and vales. It was the Ascension, the coronation, of an Oracle Queen, not just of an Oracle.

Ravus had done brilliantly. Her people had done brilliantly, with the Empire never noticing. Two years of scheming, of pledging loyalty to those who would have cut off their heads with the slightest provocation. Two years of abuse, of pain, of breaking and putting herself back together. Two years of Ravus only being able to hold her as they mourned the loss of their mother and their freedom in the dead of night when no one else could see. Two years of Gentiana whispering that it was not time, not yet.

A twelve-year-old girl would never survive the Ascension. Even at fourteen, there was a chance it would fail, but...

Lunafreya knew that if given even another few months, it would have been too late. She could hear the Gods and their anger toward the Usurper. Ravus had managed to find out about the people of Niflheim, how their blood turned black and that there were whispers of camps outside of the capital where bodies of little children were packed into suits of armor and morphed into daemons.

And little Noctis... the Crystal still called for him, called for his life in exchange for an unbroken dawn.

Her mother would never have accepted it. She would have stood with her spine straight and head unbowed, unwavering determination as she defied those who would bring them harm.

They had been so afraid of her that Glauca chose to cut her spine.

But now...

Now it was Lunafreya's turn.

As the magic of her blood and the Sylleblossoms twisted in the air at the altar, Lunafreya listened to the sounds of the Tenebraen guards turn their weapons on the MTs at her brother's command. The Calling of a voice in a language only Lunfreya could understand echoed across the fields of unending blue, but she could tell that everyone could hear it.

The ice came swift and sudden, and left only those it deemed worthy standing. Nestled in the frozen Sylleblossoms, made of blood and ice and flowers, was her crown. The magic of Tenebrae and the Gods had accepted her.

Queen Lunafreya lifted it from the flowers and placed it atop her head.

Chapter Text

Lunafreya saw General Glauca again a little before her seventeenth birthday, and this time she was not the one with a purple bruise across her cheek.

It was a gift. A gift of blood and vengeance and pain, and one that she could appreciate for what it was— an apology from King Regis, a promise between their nations. She had yet to see him, nor little Noctis who was growing up so quickly since that day as they ran from the bloody fields of Tenebrae. Yet she knew that this gift, this precious gift, meant more than just a man.

It was always more than just a man.

It was a challenge.

"Your Highness, what would you like us to do?"

Lunafreya sat, perched on the edge of her throne, and looked down at the squad of Lucian Kingsglaive. She did not look to her side, where Ravus stood, though she could feel his eyes on her. Instead, she studied the face of the man who stood, proud and yet not defiant, before her. He looked… ashamed?

She could not blame him for his feelings. He was human. They were all human.

Luna could see it in the way he avoided the man shackled and chained in front of him that there was something there—a deep pain. After all, he was a Kingsglaive entrusted with bringing his own Captain to a righteous queen roped in steel. 

"Your Majesty," Luna remarked simply to the man, whose eyes widened fractionally for a moment before pulling himself back, "and I...."

She was not cruel. Her mother had taught her compassion, the Gods had whispered of her fate and the fate of all, and she knew she was supposed to be kind. She, the healer of the daemons that plagued the souls of the wicked, and yet…

This was the man who had run his sword through her mother. This was the man who had whipped her brother until his back looked like a shattered mirror. This was the man who had broken the bones in her face and then, in the darkness of memories she did not wish to think of, broke something deeper.  

Lunafreya wanted him to hurt, to suffer and bleed out as he begged for forgiveness for his deeds—for his sins. 

And yet Luna the girl, not Lunafreya the Queen, did not know what to do.

Was spite and misery worth the price in blood?

"Look at me."

Luna did not allow him to see her hands. She tightened her fists in her lap and prayed to the Gods that she did not tremble.

He was a man. Just a man. And yet all Luna could think of was the pain of his fist against her cheek, of the bones breaking. She could remember the cold feeling of Megitek armor on her thighs and steam against her cheeks.

No.

He could not have that.

When he looked up, it was the first time she had ever seen his eyes.

“Your name.”

“Titus Drautos.”

Lunafreya only stared at him.

“That is not your name. That name is dead. Glaive.” Luna looked away from a general Glauca kneeling at her feet to the man next to him. His jaw was clenched, making the tattoo across his face look pinched. “Tell his Majesty that the name Titus Drautos is to be removed from all records. You do not deserve a human name.”

General Glauca did not flinch.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Luna swallowed and raised her chin higher.

“Lunafreya,” her brother interrupted. “There is something I wish to do.”

Luna looked over to her brother, trying to keep the tightness from passing across her mouth. She had a feeling he would want something. He deserved it, too. After all of his suffering, after all of his anguish, Luna wanted to give him anything he wanted. But she also could see it in his heart, in the way he looked down at Glauca. Death was not all Ravus wanted.  

“Yes?” 

Luna could not stop herself from flinching as Ravus turned to one of the house staff and took from him a metal face mask.

She remembered the feeling of her mouth being wired shut, the screws forced into the pieces of her jaw. She could still remember the sound of the drill, though thankfully she had been in a blissful state of medicated forgiveness. At least they had given her that.

But she could still feel the metal wrapped through her teeth, the blood that she had swallowed and then forced to choke back up… the metal mask, archaic and chosen for the sole purpose of her utter humiliation, forced on her face until she had healed.

Healed.

Ravus could have done it in but a moment. Even Lunafreya could have healed herself if allowed to. But the little pieces of magitek welded into the metal had done their job perfectly in preventing her from healing herself.

Iedolas had enjoyed her extended pain. And… General Glauca had, too.

It was harder to scream when her mouth was wired closed. 

General Glauca finally responded, though it was not in a plead for mercy or forgiveness, for those words would have rung hollow. He didn't cry, didn't beg or barter. Not even a laugh, a taunt, a jeer. 

No. It was resignation as he bent his head forward.

Luna looked back to the Glaive who had spoken. To her, then to the woman behind him. She was the only person, other than Glauca, to respond to the mask. There was something in that movement, the way the woman seemed to take it as a slap to the face, and Lunafreya could understand why when she saw the blood-red stone at her throat. A Mage. Of course she would know what a Magitek barrier looked like.

Luna tried not to grind her teeth together.

"He should wear it," Ravus said simply, though his words carried over the audience of Tenebraen dignitaries and King Regis's Glaive.

She could feel the eyes of every person on her, all except for General Glauca. "That will not be necessary." Her mother would never have let Ravus do it, and neither would she. Even if it would have brought her something to slake her anger, her thirst for vengeance. His face in the mask he had forced her to wear...

She didn't want to see it. She didn't want him to lower himself to that place of anger. She didn't want her kingdom to see them as rabid dogs.

She didn't want to be like him.

"We are nothing like him, Ravus." Luna did not elaborate further. "His death will be swift." She ignored the ghost of a memory, the taste of blood in her mouth as she said the words. "Glaive, was there any instruction from King Regis on what he wished to happen to General Glauca?" 

"No, Your Majesty. He said we were to follow your orders."

"Then please hold his chains. Ravus..." She did not want to give him the order, to tell him exactly what to do. But she knew it was her duty, and if she said it, Ravus would do it.

The Glaive tightened their hold on the chains as Luna stood from her throne, allowing her hands to fall at her side. Ravus turned to put away the mask, but Luna held out her hand. "Please, Ravus."

He looked unsure; it was in his brow, in his blue and purple eyes. Luna wondered if he regretted taking out the mask from wherever it had been hidden, and Luna wondered why she had never once asked for it to be destroyed in the first place. There hadn't been time, not with the fighting against Niflheim and reclaiming the Tenebrae territories.

Still…

She took the metal in her hand, feeling the bite of the steel and the overwhelming presence of the evil that was inherent in the Magitek armor. Some of her spies, the ones she had sent into Niflheim when the tides of the war began to change in her favor, spoke of production facilities inside of Gralea that made daemons from flesh and bone—people. Real, breathing, human people. The Magitek was created as an act of defiance against the Gods, an act against humanity. And General Glauca had lived with his body and soul marred by its corruption.

"Your Majesty, wait."

It was the Glaive with his dark hair and somber expression, the one whose tattoos glowed across his skin in a pattern of arrows, where they were firing toward Luna did not know. 

Someone in the audience made a sound of outrage, but Luna only lifted her hand.

"Yes, Glaive?"

"Your Majesty..."

Luna wondered if the man would beg for his Captain's life. It spoke of a loyalty that, while aimed toward the wrong person, was at least noble in some aspect.

But that was not what the man said.

"When we were passing through Lucis, he said..." The man licked his front teeth. "He said his eyes were giving him trouble. That... he had a pretty bad headache."

Luna swallowed. "I see."

He didn't physically look different, but now that Luna was focusing she could see the Starscourge around his head like a halo. How it clung to him, how it ate at him. Those who had given their soul to the darkness always did have a little of the Plague of the Stars withering inside of them, eating them alive.

If she did nothing, if she allowed his soul to fester and for his body to die as the daemon he was in life, then death would make him a daemon too. He would be a ferocious daemon, at that. Luna could picture it in her mind, the way the daemon would swing its blade, how it would snarl and scream with the rage of a traitor. In the night, rather than the sweet bliss of open air and the twinkle of stars, it would burn with fire and fear.

She was the Oracle, it was her power that would save him. It was the only thing that would save him.

"Do you know what happens to the soul of those taken by the plague of our star?"

She directed her words to Glauca, who had returned his sights to the ground near her feet.

"I said," Luna punctuated her words like a knife scraping against bone, "do you know what befalls a man who is not cured of his ailment? Do you know what happens to his soul?"

Glauca did not answer, even when the woman next to him pulled at his chain. The woman's face was flushed—something that Luna filed away. She would need to speak with the mage. No doubt the muzzle..... was it something Lucians used against her? Had her Captain held her face down to the metal and locked it into place? 

Was there another who felt the ripping of her magic like a physical wound?

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" There it was. The fear she wanted the fear she needed.

"Yes. Nothing. Your soul, when the daemons take it, will be torn apart. The soul is fragile, like that of a child. Innocent, pure, untarnished. Untouched."

Glauca flinched.

"Those whose souls are taken... there is no Beyond. There is no forgiveness, no respite. They are taken by the Void. Do you understand, General Glauca?" Luna stepped closer to the man, kneeling toward him. She wondered, idly, if he could see the scars around her mouth and at her temples where the mask had dug into her skin.

"I..."

"Do you understand what that means, General Glauca?" Luna wanted to reach out, to grab his face and force him to look at her in the eye. Yet touching him.... putting her skin against his...

"I never took you for a coward."

That was enough for her to get him, the master of her nightmares, the monster of her childhood, to look her in the eye.

"There is only one person who can heal you of your blight, to save your immortal soul.  A little girl whose mother you killed in front of her, then laughed as you shattered her face and whipped her brother. It is in the little girl you tormented. A little girl you muzzled. A little girl you—" Luna felt her voice rising and catching in the back of her throat. She had never said the words.  

She would never say the words, never validate what he had done.

"I am the only one who can save you from yourself."

With that, Luna stood again and placed her hands behind her, hiding the crescent moons dug into her palms. "Take him to the dungeon. He will die at sunset, tomorrow."

Sunset. Just as the moon would rise high in the sky. Just as the mortal body could become one with the daemon inside, showing the monster hidden within its depths.

"Glaive, your assistance will be required. Ravus... prepare the courtyard and my Artemisia for battle."

"Yes, sister."

Luna gestured to the Glaive before him. "Take him away. I do not wish to look at his face any longer."

As the Glaive dragged General Glauce away, Luna wondered... her choice. Would the bloodshed take away her pain? Or would a battle against a daemon cure her of her anger?

She sat down on her throne and reached up to the crown of Sylleblossoms and wondered what her mother would say... what her mother would choose.

When she prayed to the Gods, they did not answer.

Luna was on her own.

Chapter Text

The feast given to the Glaive was one that Lunafreya was proud of. The dishes, all Tenebrae specialties, were cooked with a passion and zest that anyone gifted with the chance to eat it could taste in each bite. Her cooks had worked hard to prepare the meal—warm breads and savory meats, mellow soups and mouth-watering vegetables spread across the table. The cooks had even gone as far asto make her favorite cake, filled with chocolate and Ulwaat berries and memories of times long gone.

Luna was happy to see the Glaive accept her meal, though she could barely lift a spoon to her mouth through the dinner.

She could feel their eyes on her, staring at her... through her.

When the meal was done and she had excused herself, a single Ulwaat berry the only thing eaten from her cake, Lunafreya made her way to her chambers, feeling two of the Glaive watch her as she left with the Captain of her Artemisia close behind.

"Aranea," Luna said as they traversed the white marble hallways, her dress dragging behind her, "The mage. Bring her to me."

Aranea quirked her eyebrows. "Oooh, naughty. What would Ravus think of me sneaking a Lucian Glaive into your bedchambers?"

Luna huffed. "It is hardly sneaking. When I wish to have a personal audience, I can do so."

"In your bedchambers."

Luna looked at the woman, her silver hair braided and knotted at the top of her head, the smirk pulling at her lips. "You are absolutely terrible, Aranea. I swear, sometimes I shudder to think what other royalty would think if they knew my Captain spoke to me in such a manner."

"Well... There are some rumors about what King Regis and his Shield do in the heat of the night."

Luna let out a shocked half-laugh, half hiccup. "It's hardly proper to say such things—"

"Hey, it was the Glaive who told me. They've got good gil in the pool."

It was the first time Luna had felt a moment of comfort since the Glaive had arrived with their cargo. Aranea was always good for her strength in battle, but more so as a friend. A confidant that was not her brother. 

The laughter died, and Luna was once against left with her thoughts.

"You're doing the pouting thing again, Queenie."

Luna scrunched her face. "Perhaps... tomorrow. I feel as though this is a mistake. That it is wrong."

Aranea shrugged her shoulders as they rounded a corner. "It's your job to do what you think is best. If you think killing him as a daemon is best, then... We'll take him down. Your brother and I could probably do it on our own, but those Glaive look pretty strong. 

The Glaive, yes...  

"Is it fair to make them kill their own Captain?"

This made Aranea pause. "Honestly? If I ever turned on you, my girls better kill me. They didn't make a promise to me. That's all you."

Aranea left her at her chamber with a promise to bring back the mage, and Lunafreya was quick to pull her gown off. The satin felt constricting on her skin. Even the crown she loved, the one she had made from her magic and blood, weighed heavily on her head. Placing it on the bust of her mother, letting the weight come off even for a moment, was enough to help soothe her pain.

She dressed herself in a more casual dress, something that would still be acceptable for a queen to wear in her own quarters. It was something similar to what her mother wore when she needed to impress no one but the mirror.

"Your Majesty?"

Lunafreya turned from the mirror toward the mage. The red stone at her throat glowed with an incandescence Luna knew well. It was Bahamut's magic.

"Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable. Do not worry, I have not called you here to cause trouble. I... have a few questions, that is all." Luna tried to smile, but she worried that the smile came off more as a grimace.

The woman looked around the same age as Aranea, though there was a wildness to her that Lunafreya could only assume came from the magic inside of her. It was different than the other Kingsglaive Luna had met, though something about it called to her magic. It was hot like fire and burned like lava.

"O—of course, your Majesty. I dunno how helpful I can be, but I'll try?"

Luna gestured to the white couch with one hand. "Please. Make yourself at home. I won't keep you long."

The woman swallowed and nodded as she took a seat, her back straight and her hands clasped in front of her. The black of her Kingsglaive uniform stood in stark contrast to the room, but Lunafreya liked the way it looked. It flowed like moonlight.

Luna slipped down next to the woman, letting their knees gently knock together.

"May I have your name?"

"Crowe Altius, Your Majesty."

"You may call me Lunafreya." Luna tried to lighten her smile. "Let your heart be at ease."

The words hardly helped, but it was worth a try.

"Um... yes, Queen Lunafreya."

Luna cocked her head to the side. "It's a start, I suppose," she murmured.

Crowe gave a little laugh; it was hardly noticeable, but was enough for Luna. 

"I hate to ask this, Crowe, but when you saw the contraption..." Crowe's face pulled tight again and her fingers dug into her pants. "You were the only Glaive to have reacted. Did King Regis use—"

"No!"

Luna couldn't help but back away from the woman and her exclamation.

"I... No, Queen Lunafreya. King Regis would never. He wouldn't."

"I believe you, dear Crowe. But then how did you know of it?"

Luna looked at the woman's face closely, at her pink lips and her mouth line, at the skin at her chin and her temples. They were faint, but little lines like the tips of her fingernails were carved into the skin. They had faded to a silvery white, but for Luna they were like fresh, bloody wounds still oozing.

"Y'know, where I'm from. Galahd. They knew I was different, that I was special. I had magic before King Regis gave me the power of the Crystal."

Wildness like raging seas of flame and anger.

"The Infernian."

Crowe flinched, turning her cheek as though struck. "Yes."

Luna bit down on her lip before taking in a deep breath. "A child of the Infernian. Most children born with the gift are thrown into the pyre at birth. A sacrifice to the Gods."

It didn't happen often, but Lunafreya had heard of the children born with the Mark of the Traitor. Even in Tenebrae, when children were born with red eyes and the Traitor's magic, the children were taken away—where to, she did not know. Luna hadn't heard of it happening since she had taken her bloody crown, but it was only a matter of time.

"Please, do not turn from me." Luna reached out and placed her hand against the woman's. "King Regis has trusted you, and so shall I. You were blessed with magic, just as I have. Just as King Regis and Prince Noctis. Your heart is where your magic resides, and Crowe?" Luna lifted her hand. "There is no Scourge inside your heart."

The woman tried to hide her tears, but Luna could see them sparkling like ice against her cheeks.

“The people of your town. They used a mask on you?" 

Crowe nodded. “Yeah. My parents were gone. The people in the orphanage… they were scared of what I could do. What I was.” 

Luna nodded her head. She could understand that fear, that never-ending agony.

“Does King Regis treat you well?”

Crowe nodded. “Yeah. He never judged me. The guys in the Glaive? Tthey’re the only family I have.”

“And your Captain?”

Crowe pulled her hand away.

Luna allowed it.

“He… he was a good man. A good Captain. When I joined, he told me that what powers I had were good, that I could protect people with them. That I could show Niflheim that what they wanted to bring back was wrong. The Infernian—he’s the reason why Solheim fell. They wanted more than what the Gods wanted them to have, and Ifrit gave it to them. And because of that, because of those fuckers—“ 

“The Scourge.”

Crowe nodded, the tears drying on her red cheeks. “It killed my family. It… it took everything from me and…"

“In exchange, it gave you magic.”

Crowe nodded.

“He... I dunno why he did it. Why he hurt you, I mean. But to me? He was good. Captain Drautos was a good man.”

“General Glauca was not.” 

“I know. I… I know.”

Crowe raised her hand to touch her face. “The scars…. they never really go away.”

Luna reached up to her own face. “No. They don’t.” 

“But, have you tried to heal your jaw?” 

Luna let her fingers trail down her cheeks and to the junction where her upper jaw met the lower jaw. She could still feel pieces of bone that never fused back in place. “I wasn't aware it was possible.”

“It might hurt a bit, but yeah. It’s possible.”

Luna leaned a little forward toward the Glaive. “Would you be willing to help me?”

“I… Yes.” Crowe pressed her fingers into the skin on her own face, harder than she needed. “I can help you.”

“And in exchange?”

Crowe shook her head, letting her hand drop into her lap. “No exchange. You don’t have to heal him for me to help.”

“I… I understand. Thank you.”

Chapter Text

The morning brought little respite from the darkness of night, and as the day bled into the afternoon and then to the dusk, Luna felt something in the pit of her stomach. It was churning, begging for a release that she did not wish to give.

When Ravus came to her quarters, knocking at her door to escort her down to  the courtyard where she had taken her crown, Luna had to hold in the urge to vomit. She had ordered deaths before—having done so the moment she had decided to take her mother's place as rightful Queen.

But to watch someone die at Ravus's hand, to take full responsibility not in battle but within the confines of his chains...

Luna wished, just for a moment, that Gentiana was next to her. The Messenger found herself more often than not traversing the streets of Gralea, taking in the information Luna needed to fight against the empire. She was noble in her duty, but her words of wisdom and comfort were sorely missed.

While she deeply loved Ravus, she knew what his answer would be. He had suffered, had watched her suffer. An eye for an eye, a fair trade in pain.

He wanted to watch Glauca lose himself entirely to the darkness, to be reborn in the skin of a daemon and to be slain as nothing but a monster.

She wanted the same. To have the chance to receive justice... no. Revenge.

This was revenge.

The weight of the crown on her blonde head made Luna's neck ache, but she did not bend.

She knew better. She had to be strong and resolute.

But...

He looked like a feral animal.  

She did not pity him, despite this. She saw his arms shake ever so slightly as his countrymen pulled him forward and across the grass. It glittered with a touch of dew. 

"Do you remember this place, General Glauca?"

Luna looked to Ravus. His hand was situated on the hilt of his sword, fingers flexing over the steel. She knew her choice had caused him pain, but it was for the best. They needed their anger, their justice.

A little voice in the back of her head, the little girl Luna knew she had hidden deep inside, told her to be better than him, to do better.

"This... is where..."

"Yes. This is where you killed my mother. Queen Sylva. You ran your sword through her right here," Luna said as she stood in the exact place her mother had died. The blood and gore was long gone, but the Sylleblossoms in that one spot never returned. "You watched her die."

"Yes. I killed Queen Sylva here. I remember."

"And this is where you shall die. Ravus." Luna looked to her Artemisia, to the tall and dark-haired Glaive holding the chain, to Crowe.

They both held their heads high and their jaws clenched. Crowe had not begged for her Captain's soul, but Luna had looked into her red eyes and knew. 

"Wait." 

Luna looked to the sky, to the moon cresting above the hills and vales of her home. And she looked down, to the spot where nothing grew and nothing ever would.

"Bring him to me." 

He was just a man, with dark eyes and a scruff across his face. He was nothing to fear without his armor.

Luna knew the words she had been taught since she was a child suckling from her mother's breast, yet she knew they were but formality. It was in her intent that cleared the Scourge.

It was in her touch.

Luna laid her fingers against Titus Drautos's head. Just a man.

"This is a kindness you do not deserve."

But the light shined across the meadow as the final rays of sunlight scattered, leaving the air cold and without the comfort of the sun.

When her work was done she stepped away and looked to her brother.

"General Glauca. You have committed treason against your King, murder of your Oracle, and subjugated and enslaved my Empire. You have worked for an Empire that tortures and mutilates its subjects. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

He said nothing.

"The punishment is death. Ravus, may your sword be sharp."

"And may the wings of Justice be swift."

Luna did not look away as Ravus pulled his sword from its sheath and lifted it above his head. She did not make a sound as the metal sunk into flesh and General Glauca's head fell with a note of finality at her feet, splattering her dress red. And she certainly did not allow her neck to bend to him.

In the distance, the daemons roared.

Chapter Text

The first time Luna saw Noctis again was on his fifteenth birthday, though it was not from lack of want.  

The borders between their countries had been too deep, with too much water and too many Niflheim MTs between them and Ravus was afraid. He never said it, but it was in his absolute refusal to let the Artemisia nor his army bring Luna outside the borders of Tenebrae. In Tenebrae she was safe. In Tenebrae they had their sword sworn and their magic. Outside, however, there was a bloody war that Tenebrae would lose if they stuck their necks out too far.  

But things were changing. The Artemisia and the Kingsglaive King Regis lent to Lunafreya’s Tenebrae Imperial Army had worked well together since their arrival. They had beat back the Niflheim forces on the western front, leaving shattered pieces of magitek strewn across fields of blue. Nyx, the highest-ranking Kingsglaive who had stayed behind, had been nothing short of a miracle worker with Ravus. The two had combined their heads for strategy and full-scale attacks and had laid waste to enemies of their collective empires.

Despite how much she had appreciated Nyx’s clear head, Luna couldn't deny the sadness she felt when Crowe had left. She was a Mage, something so rare and powerful that Luna knew she could not ask to keep her. Her work was needed at the Wall, inside of Insomnia, and Luna would never stand between Crowe and her duty.

When she had a moment of time to think, Luna would look back on the time Crowe had stayed with her, helping Luna heal. Those weeks together Luna had cherished. The bones in her jaw mended and Crowe had been kind with her words and with her soft, healing magic. Had she been older, had she courage, Luna would have allowed herself to fall into those hands and soft words of comfort. She had dreamed of it enough times since that first meeting, since their knees knocked against one another and Luna listened to her heart jumping up into her throat.

Yet…

Luna looked to the man seated in front of her, at the profile of his strong jaw and the scruff across his cheeks. Luna... she liked to look at him, and that thought sent a pulse of terror straight down to the pit of her stomach.

"Nyx. When will we arrive?"

"Not long now, Princess."

"Don't let your King hear you call me that. Six knows what he would do to you."

"Oh, I bet. Princess."

The fluttering in her stomach, the fear tinged with something she did not want to think about, made Luna pull at her sleeves.

They had spent most of the last two days traveling and Luna was more than ready to rest her weary head. Yet there were things she needed to do, things she had been waiting to do, since she was a little girl.

Noctis.

After Luna took back the Kingdom of Tenebrae, the King had sent a magically-enhanced phone for her to use. This had been a lifeline between her and little Noctis, allowing them to reconnect. His physical injuries had healed slowly but surely, though Luna knew that watching her fade into the sea of MTs had left more than the scar across his back.

It has taken many long conversations to patch the wounds, to begin to help him heal. The conversations were not often, but they were enough to allow Luna to know that her friend, the little boy who had smiled up at her with sad blue eyes and a broken spine, was beginning to mend. She knew though that the moment she was able to hold him in her arms, to apologize.... that was when they would really heal. 

But there were things she could not tell him, things that would only hurt him, and Luna could not bear to say them out loud. Not until she could figure out something—anything—to change his future.

She would not put the burden upon his shoulders, not when she was looking for an answer to change and morph what destiny had set before him.

The life of one for all....  

Not if Luna had anything to say about it.

"Nyx, when we arrive..."

"You're to be escorted to His Majesty's Throne Room."

Luna nodded. "I... I see." She should have known it would be a dance of formalities before she was allowed to see Noctis, before they could break the barrier between them.

"I know that tone."

Luna sighed. "Yes, Nyx. You do."

"Anything I can do?"

"Other than keeping me safe from harm?" Luna leaned back against the headrest. "Perhaps save me from the coming headache of a dance I will have to perform?"

"Oh, come on Princess. It isn't that bad."

Luna wouldn't have said anything if it were anyone else. But Nyx has stood by her for nearly two years. He had shown more than once that he could keep her secrets, though Luna knew better than to believe his loyalty was to just her. He still answered to King Regis. Luna knew to never give anything more than what she felt comfortable with King Regis knowing..... which was one of the reasons she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Perhaps not." At least.... at least she would be able to see Noctis. 

At least she would be able to see Crowe.

"It's been a long time since you saw Prince Noctis, hasn't it?" His voice was soft, imploring. He knew just as she did what happened the last time she had seen Noctis.

"Far too long."

"I'm sure he'll be over the moon that you're here."

Luna tilted her head to try to see more of Nyx's face. "We spoke last night. He has made several friends. I... I wish to see what his life is like, to meet the people he considers his closest companions. He seems so much happier, now."

Nyx hummed.

"And no doubt you will be happy to see your own friends again. Libertus and Crowe."

"Crowe mentioned you the other day. She's been assigned as your Citadel guard."

There was something to his voice that Luna couldn't quite pinpoint, but it no doubt had some connection to the rolling in her stomach every time he looked at her.

“She said she wished to show me some of the places you used to visitー”

Nyx snorted as he slowly merged into the traffic on the highway. “She’s gunna drag you to Yama’s and force you to eat Six knows what. We think it’s meat, but with Yama you never know for sure.”

“Then I shall have to prepare a potion. And she assured me there would be more than enough alcohol to go around. But you aren't to have any.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“You and Aranea will have your hands quite full with protecting me… and the Gods themselves have never seen me drink…”

Luna watched the small smile spread across Nyx’s mouth. “Heh. Bet you’re a sloppy drunk.”

Luna leaned forward as far as her seatbelt would allow her and smacked the glaive on the shoulder. “You should remember you speak to a queen." 

“Yeah, yeah, Princess.”

As Luna adjusted herself back into her seat and looked out the window, she allowed herself to smile.

Chapter Text

He was still so small, and yet he was taller than her.

It was amusing to see him, all scrawny and gangly limbs in a suit that while cut for a prince, still left him looking awkward and young. But he was smiling the same as he had nearly seven years before and standing tall, despite his previously broken spine. He had overcome so much and Luna knew with an uneasiness that continued to build within her stomach, that it was only the beginning.

"Her Majesty, the Queen of Tenebrae and Oracle of the Six, Daughter of Sylva and guardian to the Stone, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret."

Luna looked up to the full court—dozens of faces staring back at her. Her mother had taught her the dances, the words, the soulless banter expected of her. But her mother had also taught her her how to twist her words like a viper and to bear her teeth only when necessary.

At that moment, surrounded by those who she knew would use her if they could (only King Regis would.... she could trust him.... couldn't she?) or those who would let her country burn, Luna only held her head up and stared out before her. She could not look at Noctis without her face breaking from its icy veneer. Just a few minutes, just through the formalities.

The dance.

She was to be docile as Oracle, but as queen?

There were only three empires and the democracy of Accordo. She had pushed back her Niflheim neighbors, beheaded their General, and laid their battalions to waste. She had conquered her empire again and if what Ravus and Aranea said was true, it was only a matter of time before they broke through Niflheim's own defenses.

Luna was not a conqueror. But if what Gentiana said was true, about the bodies in factories on the outskirts of their land, then Luna would do her best to rip out their throats with her teeth. She would not wait for the venom to sink into their skin, to turn their blood to clotted red poison.

"King Regis, it is an honor to be invited to the Crown Jewel of Lucis. Insomnia is everything I heard it would be. Seven years have not changed it from the grandeur the Crown Prince spoke of. May the Six bless it, as they have blessed the newly restored Tenebrae."

The words felt like a foreign tongue, but it was one Lunafreya had heard since she was a child. She only hoped no one would hear an accent.

"Queen Lunafreya. The honor is all ours. To have the Queen and Oracle in our midst is a blessing. We have counted the days since our last meeting."

Their last meeting.... filled with blood and fire and melting ice. Lunafreya didn't want to think back to that moment, as she let go of his hand. He had been younger then, his face not weathered by time and the crystal.

"It truly has been far too long, King Regis. I must thank you for your hospitality and the Glaive you have bequeathed to my Empire. They have been truly a blessing in the defeat of our common enemy."

There was a shuffling in the audience, but Lunafreya did not look away from King Regis, whose only telling surprise was the the slight quirk of his left brow.

"I am glad to hear that the Glaive have been helpful in building of your own forces. Our reports state that your Artemisia have been most effective in battle."

Lunafreya kept her face straight, though she could feel Aranea and Ravus behind her make a movement. Nyx, who had taken a stand next to them, had dropped to his knees the moment they had entered the chamber. She wondered if he could understand the dance. "They would die to protect their Queen. I am certain you can understand their devotion."

"Of course. Just as my Glaive would for me."

"Their devotion to the Kingdom of Lucis is assured." Lunafreya took only a moment to pause before continuing. "However, there is much more for our armies to gain by being one. The Six have blessed the Kingdom of Tenebrae in ways which are truly heaven-sent. We would be better working together for the common good of our Empires than apart."

Regis smiled. "I believe you may be right, Queen Lunafreya. My council and I will continue our talks with a gusto once you have rested. And after all, this is an event of celebration."

Lunafreya did not look away from Regis. "For the Crown Prince Noctis's birthday. May the Gods bless him with a long reign."

Lunafreya almost screamed at the near indecipherable flinch.

"Yes. May the gods bless him."

He knew. He knew.

Luna had always felt that King Regis did not understand the implications of the King of Kings, the King of Light. But that flinch...

"As Oracle, I assure you that my duty is to my calling. And as Queen, my duty is to my people. And the Kingdom of Tenebrae, while independent, has a unique connection to the Kingdom of Lucis. My land is where the ice shall not tread."

A murmur quickly broke out. Regis only lifted his hand to silence them.

"My dear Queen, you are correct. The ties between our countries is unbreakable, and our magic ever-closer still. Rest your heart at ease."

Despite the fact that Lunafreya stood before a king high above her, she held her head straight. She would not look up to him.

"I look forward to your festivities."

"You may wish to retire to your rooms. I believe you will enjoy them—your mother, when she visited Insomnia, was quite fond of them. Prince Noctis will accompany you there."

Lunafreya gave the required curtsy, but her spine was straight as a sword.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, King Regis."

"I assure you, Queen Lunafreya—the pleasure is all mine.”

 The dance complete, Lunafreya looked to Noctis, whose eyes were wide and his mouth a little open as he slowly made his way down the stairs toward her. Had Regis not taught him about the cou—

No. He hadn’t. He hadn’t expected Noctis would need the power of diplomacy, the ability to curve words like daggers or to sooth like running water.

What did a lamb need to know about politics? What did a sacrifice need to know about the language of manipulation or the fine rules of a court he would never control?

He was innocent. Unprepared and innocent.  

And Luna both admired and loathed Regis in that moment, because Noctis was saved he pain of the dance, but denied his rightful place as King. 

She accepted Noctis’s arm, noting the slight tremble. She had to keep herself from reaching out and holding her oldest friend, but they would have to hold themselves together for just a little longer.

“Thank you, Prince Noctis.”

“Yes Queen Lunafr—“

Luna tightened her hand around his arm.

“—eh..eh...eya.”

It took everything in her not to cry. Tall and gangly he might have been, but inside he was still the little boy she had befriended and abandoned so many years ago. 

Chapter Text

The moment the doors to her rooms were closed, Luna wrapped her arms around Noctis and held him. It was the way her mother had held her when she was a little girl, when the dull roar of the Astrals in her head would not quiet and the screams of past and present and future drove her to near madness. Her mother, who had experienced the same pain, had engulfed her in warmth and promises that things would be better.

Time.

They needed time.

Her white gown decorated with jewels and sylleblossoms accepted his tears and she wore them with pride. She could not deny that she felt the tears prickling at the corners of her own eyes, but she held them back. She could not let him see her cry.

"It is good to see you, Noctis," she whispered against his hair. "It is so, so good to see you."

He made a sound of pain, but Luna only held him tighter.

"I am so sorry. I.... I couldn't..."

I couldn't.... what?

Luna was not sure how she could put it into words. Were there words for what she had felt as the sylleblossoms turned red under her feet? There were millions of turns of phrase, of vowels and consonants that could be put into different patterns to create so many painful and bittersweet sentences, and yet none of them would be able to quite explain that moment...

The moment she let go of Regis's hand.

"I'm sorry he let you go. I'm so sorry, so so sorry, Luna..."

His whimpers broke her in a way she did not know she could be broken again.

"No, no. Hush... shh. Your father did not let go, Noctis. Please... I... I did."

He looked up with wet, red eyes. "Huh? No—Luna, I watched him, I did! He let go!"

Luna took his face into her hands and pressed her lips to his brow. "No, dear Noctis. I couldn't leave. I had to stay. He tried to grab me, but I stopped running. He did his best."

He had. She could blame many things on Regis, most of them about Noctis, but for this?

No. It was not his fault. And to think that Noctis had for years.... he had blamed his father.... blamed himself.

"Shh. Noctis. Please, believe me. I promise you, he did his best. But Ravus... I couldn't... I couldn't leave him. I couldn't leave my mother. I couldn't leave them."

How long they stood there Luna was not sure, but it was until Noctis's broken sobs became softer and his tears had mostly dried against her shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Noctis. Please... forgive me. Please forgive me."

"But, Luna..."

"Trust me, Noctis. Please, believe me. Trust me."

Noctis shuddered in her arms and Luna gently led him to a nearby black leather couch. When he sat down he seemed to disappear into its darkness.

"Sitting is rather difficult in this," Luna murmured, hoping that it would make Noctis laugh. It didn't. "Just... give me a moment. I'll have Aranea help me. You stay here."

Luna wiped at her eyes as she gave him a warbling smile. "Just... rest for a moment."

She made her way to the door, opening it just a crack. She could see Nyx to the right of the door.

"Is Aranea with you?"

"Negative, Your Majesty. Ravus called her for a meeting. Someone else is on the other side." He smiled, but Luna didn't understand.

Luna looked down to her constricting dress. "I need you, Nyx. Please come in here for a moment. Don't..." She dropped her voice. "Be courteous. It's been... a trying day."

Nyx looked to the person on the other side. “I… I don't think that is a good idea. Maybeー”

“Nyx, please. I need you. I only trust you.”

Luna opened the door and allow him access, closing the door behind him. He looked uncomfortably back at the his partner on the other side before entering, but said nothing.

"In the dressing room. My belongs were delivered earlier?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. Yesterday. Everything should be there."

"Good. I will need assistance for a moment." She gestured toward the room.

It wasn't the first time nor the last time she made Nyx help her with her dresses. It was his duty to protect her, and if the daemon needing to be played was a stubborn zipper then so be it.

But more than that, Luna realized as she entered the room with Nyx trailing behind, was that she needed someone... She trusted Nyx. Nyx, who watched guard over her when she slept, who had more than once over the years woken her from the nightmares that ripped screams from her throat.

She needed someone other than Noctis, because she could take his pain into her but the thought of giving him pain...

He had suffered enough. He could not see her suffer.

"Luna, what?"

"Just... help me get this off."

"But you'll have to put it back on for the formal dinner."

"Nyx—" she turned to him. "At this moment... fuck the formal dinner. Remove this from me now."

It was hard to breathe. How tight had her handmaidens tied her in that morning? Did she ever have lungs to begin with?

"Please."

He made quick work of the metal and silk capelet attached to her back, though when it came to the laces Luna could feel the panic building up in her throat. His fingers were fast with unlacing it, but even with her dress pooling at her feet she couldn't breathe. She tried to keep her hand down at her sides, but she was clawing at her throat and the jewels strangling her—

Rough fingers pried hers off the back of the necklace and quickly unclasped the jewels. They fell down at her feet and it took all of Luna not to smash them with her foot. The only thing she would have hurt was herself.

Logically, she should have been embarrassed that a Glaive was seeing her in her underthings, sobbing uncontrollably. If Noctis came in, oh... the terrible things he would think...

"Lo—lock... do—" Luna tried to say the words, but they were fighting to come up. She felt faint, like at any moment she would shatter and fall to the floor.

Nyx understood her half-broken language and quickly turned the lock.

"Just—moment... just—"

"Princess..."

"Nyx. P—Please."

It was enough. He was awkward in reaching his arms around her, pulling her to his chest, but it was enough for Luna. She didn't have to be strong, because Nyx had been protecting her for the last two years. He had seen her after her nightmares, where her screams shattered the darkness. He had seen her watching the blood off her shoes, refusing to allow the staff to do it. He had helped her climb into bed after purging the scourge from her people, when her body fought against her and the taint of the disease left skin feeling like it was on fire.

He had watched her vomit black sludge and had only wiped the disease away with the back of his hand or his ever-present handkerchief.

But tears...

It was awkward at first, but thankfully Luna was able to pull herself together with relative ease after only a few panicked moments. She knew that Noctis was close by, that Noctis needed her and she needed to be there for him. She had already abandoned him, left him to his own daemons for far too long.

Luna took in a shuddering breath through her nose before pulling herself from Nyx.

"I..."

"Don't worry about it."

Luna wanted to be offended by his brusque tone, but his hands were kind as they wiped away the tears she had let slip.

His hands were always kind.

Luna leaned into his touch, if only for a moment, before pulling away. Nyx's hand stayed motionless in the air for a moment before he allowed it to fall at his side.

"You need something to cover you up."

Luna nodded and made a gesture to one of the dresses that had been laid out. It was soft and flowing, proper enough for a queen in her own rooms.

Nyx helped her dress as though it were the most natural thing a Glaive could do for a queen, and when he was done he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it under her eyes.

"Do I look terrible?"

Nyx slipped the handkerchief into her hand. "Only a little."

Chapter Text

Dancing. Nothing but dancing, nothing but an endless charade. Luna was exhausted of the words, of the smiles, of the endless nobles bending their necks to her with daggers in their coat pockets. It was trying to not turn on them, to spit in their faces and to tell them they were weak. Those who had power did not bend.

They never bent.

King Regis did not bend, but he did dance. Around and around the topic, never once unsure of his step despite his knees.

It was a masterful dance, something that Luna could only hope that one day she was able to follow without questioning her choices or stepping on other people's feet. But she was a queen, and if she broke a few toes, it was not her fault.

It was theirs for not moving quickly enough out of her way.

But the week leading to Noctis's birthday celebration was only kept bearable by Noctis. Noctis who came to her every morning at the cracking of dawn and only left when he was required to go to his additional lessons or to see his friends. Friends who, Luna would later learn, were just as charming and awkward as Noctis was.

They were certainly a match.

Gladio was the first that Luna met, due to his place as Shield. Luna could see it in the way he moved, just as his father had those many long years before. Clarus had come to Tenebrae to protect Regis, but Luna could only remember the imposing shadow that always stood beside the king. When she was 12 he towered over her, a silent and fearless warrior who had said not a word to her.

But Gladio was nothing like that. He was strong and smart, and he knew the dance just like his father did. But he did not cling to the shadows, instead allowing himself to stand imposingly next to Noctis whenever the situation called for it. He embraced the light as his father embraced the dark.

Then there was Prompto. Prompto had come to quite a shock for Luna; there was something in his eyes, the way he looked to here with a kind of reverence that she never would have understood if not for the words that Noctis whispered to her later.

"He actually came up to me when we were in elementary school. Said he had a dream that he should meet me. Said that in his dream.... it looked like you were talking to him."

But there was something else about him that made Luna curious, and she was not sure if the others could sense it. It was something that she could only feel rumbling under the surface, something that had no words but which feeling she understood well. The gods.... the gods had chosen him for a reason.

When she pulled him in for a hug, she allowed her healing magic to wash over him in a rush. Prompto, for all his blushing and stuttering, did not seem to notice the pale yellow light from her hands against his skin.

But Ignis did.

Ignis....

Luna didn't know what could be said about Ignis other than that he wore his feelings for Noctis across his face like she wore her crown. He was unashamed, unabashed, and unapologetic. There was something in the way he looked at Noctis like he was the sun, the moon,  every constellation in the sky, that made something in Luna's stomach jolt.

It was jealousy. Not for what Ignis felt for Noctis. Not for the soft way he would admonish Noctis and how Noctis would shrug his shoulders so casually that Luna almost missed the twitch of his lips and the smattering of pink against his cheeks. Not the way Noctis tapped his shoulder against Ignis and laughed when his advisor only reached out to swat at him.

It wasn't the way they looked at each other when they thought the other wasn't paying attention, even. It wasn't that.

She would never get that— the young love that she could see blooming like a sylleblossom in the spring, peeking through the last touches of winter snow. She would never get to have that feeling, that softness, the afterglow of a first love or a first touch, a first kiss...

But Luna was happy that Noctis, even if he did not know it, was so beloved. He deserved it.

And when she touched his hand, the heat of his skin made Luna's skin tingle.

Somewhere deep inside, Luna knew she deserved her happiness, too. But happiness was for princesses. Fairy tale love stories where the prince rescued the princess from the were long gone. Queens did not need rescuing. They rescued themselves.

But spending time with them had reminded Luna of what she was doing, what she had needed to do since the moment her mother's blood touched her feet and she pulled away her hand.

Four boys, destined to misery and death.

Four warriors of light, chosen to lay down their lives upon a field of ash for the crimes ancestors had long ago committed.

But Luna held in her anger, her fears, her tears as she allowed Noctis and his friends to escort her around the Citadel, showing her the tourist spots and the places that were secret except for those who knew to look. It must have seemed silly to the Artemisia trailing her, even the Glaive she could see skirting the corners (always close but never close enough to catch a glimpse of a familiar and warm face from so long before) but to Luna...

Those few hours were something that reminded her of a world where she was only a young princess and Noctis was the little boy in the wheelchair she pushed to and fro, catching fireflies in the palms of their hands as the sun set into the hills.

But like all good things, Luna knew it would not last. She could not spend all of her time with Noctis, surrounded by his friends. He was not trained in blood like she was. He was... special.

He was fragile and she would not let him break.

But looking at his happiness, at his joy...

It was more than Luna could take.

It was why she found herself in her quarters the night before Noctis's birthday celebration, the door closed and the silence heavy like a blanket of thick fog.

How long she sat there, Luna wasn't sure. All she knew was that her palm was red and she had run the brush through her hair over and over again until it shined with an almost ethereal glow in the light.

The silence was pierced by a soft tap against her door.

"Yes?" Luna called out softly. It could have only been a handful of people, likely Ravus or Aranea. It certainly wasn't Nyx. After the situation the first day, the man hadn't so much as locked eyes with her. She couldn't blame him....she had made a fool out of herself. No doubt he was embarrassed...

The thought hurt her more than she wanted to admit. That, coupled with how Crowe had yet to appear despite being on her personal guard, made being in Insomnia so much more painful. Being with Noctis, helping him, was helping her, too. But if felt like something was missing.

It was not Ravus, nor Aranea. It wasn't Nyx, either.

"Crowe," Luna breathed out as the brush slipped from her hand and into her lap.

It was Crowe—wild hair blown across her forehead, her Kingsglaive uniform abandoned except for the jeweled magical neckpiece she never took off. She was wearing a leather jacket that looked older than either of them, but it just seemed to fit Crowe. She had a helmet tucked under her arm and a small plastic bag in the other. The air of nonchalance, the casual disarray, made Luna's breath catch in her throat.

Crowe was wild and free, fire and passion.

She was beautiful.

"Luna..."

Luna didn't want to cry; it would have been ridiculous. Instead she managed a shaky smile. "I thought you had— perhaps you were too busy," she admitted.

Crowe swallowed and adjusted the helmet under her arm. "I—I thought maybe you didn't want to see me."

"Why would you ever think such a thing?"

Luna made to stand, but Crowe held out the hand with the bag. "You seemed—forget it. It's not important. Can I come in?"

"Of course."

"I... Tonight was my night off. Nyx is going to be working the late night shift, so..."

Luna looked, puzzled, at the woman.

"The guys and I asked your brother and the head of the Artemisia if we could take you with us, but...."

Luna nodded, solemnly. "The King requested that I stay within the walls of the Citadel unless for official business."

It had been a silly request: Luna was known in Tenebrae for walking amongst her people, of curing the Plague of the Star from their souls, taking away the tainted rot from them with her magic. But there was no plague within the walls of Insomnia, no reason to venture out on her own. After Noctis's birthday event she was promised the chance to see Insomnia, to travel with Prince Noctis behind armored vehicles and the ever-watchful gaze of both her Artemisia and the Kingsglaive.

But going out on her own...

"Yeah. Nyx tried, but..."

Luna's heart pattered. "Oh. He did?"

Crowe's mouth lifted up as she slowly made her way across the room, dropping her helmet on the coffee table in the center of the room. "Yeah. He did. Said you did crazier things back home."

"Not entirely untruthful."

Crowe laughed. "That sounds like you." She inched closer, holding out the bag to Luna. "I promised you we'd go out for dinner. Guess we'll just have to do it here."

Luna accepted the bag and peeked inside. There way tin foil wrapped packages leaking brown juice that pooled at the bottom of the bag, a six pack of Insomnia Brew on top.

"I... Crowe. Thank you."

Crowe leaned forward, letting her fingers trace against Luna's forehead where the scars from so many years before had branded her skin. They would never fully go away, but they had faded. They would continue to fade until almost nothing was left.

"No.... thank you."

Chapter Text

Luna knew that for most, three beers was nothing. She had watched her brother drink more during the monthly card game he played with Aranea and a few of the higher-up members of the Tenebrae army and the Artemisia.

But Lunafreya had only drank the odd glass of wine or two. It was undignified for a Queen to partake in such behavior. Drunkenness was not for queens or Oracles.... it was unbecoming.

Sitting on the plush bed next to Crowe, the kebab skewers and empty cans thrown into the plastic bag sitting between them, Luna could see that there was certainly an appeal to the alcohol. It wasn't in the taste; by the Gods, no. It was in the soft, fluttering in her head and the way things seemed to be so far away and yet so close. Like Crowe's flushed cheeks and her smile....

"—and that's when we realized Libertus wasn't wearing pants. So, here we are, all of us with hangovers bigger than the Meteor, standing outside in the middle of winter for emergency inspection, and Libertus is wearing nothing but a pair of standard-issue tighty-whiteys."

Crowe has tears leaking from her eyes as she laughed, and Luna couldn't stop herself from, mid-laugh, reaching up to brush one away from Crowe's eye.

It must have been the drink, Luna knew. She was never a forward kind of person, never the type to fantasize about such things. However, she realized as she let her fingers press against Crowe's cheek, that in that moment it felt right. Those fingers against her skin, the way that Crowe's laughter seemed to linger in the air even though the now stifling silence.

Luna didn't know what she was doing, but she knew what she wanted to do. It wasn't the first time she had allowed her thoughts to drift to that faraway place, the place where foolish little girls dreamed of better days. Someone would rescue her, someone would save her.

But no one had ever come to save her. Not from Glauca.

No. She had saved herself.

Even though it was years ago, sometimes at night Luna would remember what it felt like and she would hold her sides, try to crawl into the smallest ball her body would contort itself into. It was on those nights she was grateful for Nyx, who would be stationed outside her chamber at the time she would usually begin to doze off.

But that feeling of terror, of her jaw breaking and her skin bruising.... it was different now.

He was dead.

She had done it.

"Luna..."

Luna was clumsy with her movements, reaching up with her other hand to slip it into Crowe's hair. She leaned forward, across the empty beer cans and the sticks that Crowe admitted she didn't really know what animal it was from, and allowed her mouth to rest against Crowe's.

It was softer than she expected, but there was something behind that kiss that left Luna wanting more. It was that thing about Crowe, the thing that called to her the first time she saw the other woman. It was a mix of her magic and what made Crowe.... Crowe. It was in her spirit, in her unbreakable, unshakable will to live. It was what made her so beautiful.

And Luna knew that Crowe was not something that she could keep. Even as Crowe reached up to thread her fingers through Luna's hair. She could feel the braid come loose and how it felt to feel so much less constricted by her hand-made crown.

The weight was gone, leaving Luna with the ability to breathe.

When Crowe pulled away, Luna expected her to run away, to leave, to turn heel and never return. But that wasn't the type of person Crowe was. Her sweet, honest, blunt friend....

"Luna.... this isn't a good idea."

Luna didn't let the words hurt. "Why?”

“Because… Luna…” Crowe’s smile was soft and sad as she let go of Luna. “We both know why.”

“But I don't…”

Crowe brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “In another time and place, I think we would have been good together. I've dreamed about you getting on the back of my bike, driving into the sunset… but we both know that can't happen. And besides, you and I both know that you’re in love with someone else.”

The knot in Luna’s stomach seized. “Noctis is my dear childhood friendー”

Crowe brushed her knuckles down Luna’s cheek. “Now that is the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.” Crowe pulled her hand back. “I’ve known Nyx since I was a kid. He’s never looked at anyone like he looks at you. And you need him, Luna. Even if you don't like to say it.”

“I don’tー”

“At court. You asked for him. You said you wanted to keep him.”

It was such a foolish, selfish thing to do. But it seemed right in that moment. It had seemed so right.

“Iーhe is my most trusted…”

“Yeah. He’s your most trusted. Above your brotherー”

“Ravus would die for me. And I for him.”

“Yeah, but I don't see you looking at him the way you do Nyx when you don't think anyone is looking.”

“So it was you…” The phantom in the hallways, the whisper of black through the shadows…

“King Regis asked me to stay on guard, unseen. He’s been worried that there’s someone in the Citadel that shouldn't be here…”

Luna didn't care about that, not right now. It was partly the alcohol, partly the buzzing in her head and between her thighs, but the rest was something without a word. It was freedom, wasn't it? The freedom to make her choices, whether they were for the best or the worst. She wanted to make that choice, not have someone else make it for her.

She… she didn't want to think of Nyx. She didn't want to think of the terror in her gut and the desire for more that seeped into every pore, every nerve. She didn’t want to think about how much she wanted him, how much she called for him…. how much she needed him.

“Crowe, you couldn't understand.”

“You’re wrong. I can, can't I?” Crowe reached up to her own temples. The silver scars glistened in the lamplight. “More than most people.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’s, Luna. We both know it. We’re a lot alike, you and I.”

Luna wanted to cry. “But you’re… you’re free.”

Crowe pushed herself closer on the bed, moving the bag out from between them. “Hey, no. Maybe it isn't today. Maybe not tomorrow. But one day, you will be.”

“I can't do this.” Luna felt the weight of the Gods and their whispers. The future looked so bleak.

"If anyone can do this, it's you."

Crowe's kiss, the second time, was much softer, much sweeter. There was something in her movements, something that spoke of more than either could say with words. Words were not needed... not at that moment.

Luna had never been kissed before, ever felt the connection of skin on skin in such an intimate way. There was something about kissing, about two bodies connecting in a way that spoke without words, that expressed every feeling needed with just the touch of lips.

She should have been terrified, but Luna could only allow herself to fall into the blissful feeling of hands running through her hair and down her shoulders, gently resting against her gown. It was Luna who reached up and pushed Crowe's fingers down, nestling them on her breasts. She couldn't help but to shiver as Crowe's fingertips rubbed against her hardening nipples.

This was all new, all wildness and inexperience. It was her fumbling in the dark, but Crowe had always been a light. She was always what Luna needed, what would lead Luna to safety.

Luna trusted her. Trusted her words, trusted her touch.

And that would be enough.

Chapter Text

It was cold. Not the cold of a winter breeze, but the cold of wide, empty spaces. It was the lack of warmth, the lack of human comfort. It was nothing but white and an endless trail of snow.

The hills and slopes, drowning in virgin snow, twinkled in the moonlight. But there were sounds, sounds that Luna did not know, could not place, that shattered the silence.

They were not the screams of daemons, nor of man. Not even the machines that Gentiana had spoken of in their last correspondence. It was something else, something that Luna had heard once upon a time, but could not remember. It had been so long ago. Her ears had been filled with blood and melting snow....

There was something in the darkness, in the scream, in the sharpness and shrillness of the voice that made Luna want to screech and cry and beg for forgiveness. It was in her head, in her throat, in her eyes, in her blood. Nothing but pain, agonizing pain and agony and what was air?

What was breathing?

What was blood?

Oh, yes. Red. Red and cold and death.

Blood across the snow. Perfect round drops frozen in time, the crystals more beautiful and perfect than rubies against a stark backdrop of raven black night—

Luna woke screaming. It wasn't the first time she had woken in such a way, and no doubt it would not be her last.

"Hmm—Luna?"

Luna crawled into a ball, pressing her face against her pillow. The downy softness cradled her cheek but did not bring her the comfort that she needed.

Tentative hands reached out to touch her, but Luna pulled away. The screaming echoed louder in her head and even pressing her palms against the shells of her ears did nothing. Nothing would stop the echoing of dying, the scream of something as its blood spilled out across the pure white snow.

It meant nothing, nothing at all. It was always how her dreams were—enough to leave her trembling in fear, trying to wash away the blood and the infection.

It was nothing.

Sometimes they were memories—her father being torn to pieces by the daemons that invaded when she was but a little girl. Her mother's spine severing. Glauca's head rolling across the sylleblossoms at her feet. Hands and hot breath on her face as the muzzle snapped into place.

Other times they were nothing but dark flashes of the dead, of the bodies she had not cured or the Plague. Her failures laid out in the moonlight, each one screaming her name in tandem to their flesh boiling, black oozing from their mouths and noses. She had failed them. She had let them die, though she wanted to tell them again and again that it was not her fault. She could only cure those who came to her....

She would never deny them the chance for their solace. Not even a monster like Glauca deserved such a fate.

But that was not the dream Luna had.

Blood across snow. Rubies in the cold.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Luna heard something—the sound of a door opening—and then there was a cold cloth pressed to her head, as always.

"Princess...."

Luna opened her eyes, the light from the nearby window making Nyx's face seem to glow.

"She... just... started screaming."

Luna recognized the voice and reached out across the bed, fumbling for Crowe's hand.

"It happens sometimes. You didn't do it. She gets nightmares."

Luna wanted to say something, to give some kind of comfort to Crowe. Crowe had never heard her in the night... not in that way.

Luna shivered against the sheets that had fallen around her waist. She should have been ashamed by her nakedness, by the sheen of sweat across her brow and her knotted hair. This was not fit for a queen, not appropriate for her Glaive to see her so undone. But Crowe's hand was warm, comforting, and reminded Luna of the night before....

She deserved her happiness. She deserved to be free.

Nyx ran the cloth across her face. He said nothing, because he never needed to say anything. Just his presence, the fact that it was always him, was enough for Luna.

Maybe... Crowe had been right. The pit in her stomach, the fear at the idea of Nyx... it wasn't her fault that she felt that way. But sh was not the little girl with her jaw wired shut, who looked out the window every morning wishing to jump, knowing that her broken wings would not carry her. She was more than that, more than the Princess she had once been.

She was a queen.

It was easy to play the part, to keep her head held high and her jaw clenched, but in the embrace of the darkness of night she couldn't hide it. Not from herself. Not from him.

Luna tightened her hand around Crowe's, drawing comfort from the warmth and the equally as tight grip. And with her other hand she reached up to Nyx's hand.

"Princess— I should go."

"No." It wasn't a demand.

A request.

A promise.

"Lunafreya..."

Luna could still feel the tears drying on her lashes, but she pulled Crowe's hand toward her mouth, pressing a kiss against the top of her hand. She did the same with Nyx's.

"Just for tonight.... If only for tonight. Let me be Luna..."

Not Queen Lunafreya. Not Princess. Not Oracle. Not even Lunafreya. Just a woman in need of comfort. 

Just...

"Luna..."

His hand was big on her cheek, and his fingertips were strong. But it was not the way she remembered a man's hands on her. It was...

Perhaps it was her own salvation.

Chapter Text

This dancing Luna liked.

Her dress was full, her body swinging to the rhythm of the soft ballad the full string orchestra played, and her dancing partners were skilled enough to never complain about the jolt in her movements or the imperfect twists and turns.

She chose to dance with Noctis, first. Noctis was trained in dancing the same way a bear was trained to balance itself on a tightrope.

"Sorry, Luna... Ignis tried to teach me."

"I am sure his attempts were met with enthusiasm." Noctis only groaned and spun her on her heels, making Luna's laugh carry across the ballroom floor. She could see Ignis in the corner next to Prompto, who was happily sneaking finger food into his suit's breast pocket. Gladio was nearby, eyes trained on the Citadel's doors.

Behind them was an overflowing table of gifts in perfectly wrapped bows, of a thousand shapes and sizes and colors. Each time the doors opened the bows would wave at them, the air carrying ribbons on the breeze.

Ignis had his hand half covering his eyes, and Luna could almost make out the groaning coming from her old friend's Chamberlain. He looked half ready to jump into the stacks of presents and allow himself to be lost in the wreckage. Poor thing.

"It's hard."

"I'm sure it is... I would be quite flustered dancing with your Chamberlain. He is very handsome."

"Wh—what?! That's—that's not what I meant—"

Luna lifted their joined hands up and she did a twirl. It was good that he was taller than she was, though the heels certainly helped to balance them.

"Oh, don't worry yourself, my dear Noctis. I have no plans on stealing him away to Tenebrae. Though, I am sure if his parents would have wanted him to visit Tenebrae... at least once. It was his home, after all."

Noctis sucked in a breath. "I... I know."

Luna hummed thoughtfully as the waltz picked up. There were so many spins and hand movements in the coming part, but she knew that Noctis would never be able to keep up. She could barely remember how they went. "Perhaps it would be nice for you and your father to visit Tenebrae."

Noctis's hand would have dropped from Luna's waist if not for her overlarge petticoat billowing around her.

"I..."

Blood. Fire. Death.

Luna allowed the hand resting on Noctis's shoulder to gently tighten. "It... it would mean the world to me. To show you my home, to show you my kingdom. It is not like it once was; I swear to you, Noctis. The lands of Tenebrae will welcome you and your father into their embrace. No hand shall befall you."

She wanted to tell him of the nightmares, the ones that began with her pushing a small Noctis through the brambles of trees on his wheelchair. they always ended with her turning her cheek, with General Glauca's Magitek Armor glowing in the burning wreckage of home.

Instead, Luna smiled. "Do you remember the tarts?"

That, at least, got Noctis to smile. "Yeah. Iggy's been trying to make them for me."

Luna's eyebrow rose. "Iggy?"

Red dusted across the high point of Noctis's cheeks. "Yeah. Iggy."

Luna smiled brightly and turned to look at Ignis again.

"I imagine he is having a little trouble with making it for you?"

"You could say that again."

"The ingredients are somewhat exclusive. They only grow in a small area of Tenebrae. If nothing else, you and he should come so that your poor Chamberlain does not drive himself mad making you the wrong dessert."

"I'll... I'll think about it."

Luna knew that it would never be Noctis's choice, and instead had already brought it up with King Regis. But knowing he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea...

"Thank you, my dear Noctis. But it seems that the song is coming to an end..."

Noctis bowed out, half as gracefully as he probably should have. It was his birthday, though, and no one would dare say anything to their prince.

A smattering of clapping met Luna's ears and she curtsied. She scanned the audience, noting the faces. Spaced between the guests were members of her Artemesia and the Kingsglaive. The night before Crowe had mentioned that something had been worrying King Regis, though Luna did not know what it was for certain.

She trusted that they would be safe.

She watched Noctis half-run toward his friends and the tower of perfectly shaped gifts with their perfectly shaped bows and their fluttering ribbons.

"May I have this dance, Queen Lunafreya?"

Luna turned to King Regis and his outstretched hand.

"We will have to go slow, for my knees are not how they used to be, but I hope that I will be a suitable dance partner."

"Of course, your Majesty."

"Please, Luna. Call me Regis."

Luna accepted his hand, the ring hot like fire against her skin. She wanted to pull away, but knew better.

"My apologies." Regis reached into his pocket and pulled out his black gloves, pulling them on over the ring. "Your mother had the same experience. Too much magic too close together, she said."

Luna swallowed as she accepted his clothed hand. The music began; it sounded more of a dirge than a song of jubilation. "Perhaps... perhaps it is that the magic inside me is life, while yours is death."

Regis's smile was soft. Sad. "Yes. The magic in the Ring of the Lucii is that of death. It is a cruel, capricious thing, Luna. It is a weight the Lucis Caelum family has carried with pride for two thousand years; it is a weight we carry so that our people may live in peace and prosperity."

"Why must it be?"

"Because it is what Bahamut ordained."

Bahamut... the God of Silence, of knowledge beyond mortals. The god above all others. The god who spoke in dreams and whispers, always in riddles. The god who Luna Called to and never received a response.

"Bahamut does not answer to my prayers."

Regis's mouth drew into a tight line. "Luna. Your mother taught me long ago that it is the fate and calling of the Line of Lucis to accept our burden. We were gifted with what no mortal deserved to have. You, too, have been gifted with something that shall be your own Ring. We will both..."

"We will both watch him die."

Luna looked to Noctis who stood next to Ignis, their hands nearly brushing against on another. Noctis had taken one of the shrimp puff pastries from Prompto's shirt pocket. Gladio joined them at some point and now had Prompto's head under his arm.

"He is so young... it isn't right."

"Many things in this world are not right, Luna. I have prayed to Bahamut ever day since Noctis was four. It has.... his fate has haunted me, but I will not allow it to haunt him."

Luna pulled her sight away from Noctis and his friends. They were laughing; so cheerful and innocent. They did not know what the Gods had planned. "So you do not intent to tell him?"

At that moment Regis guided her into a small twirl. "No, my dear. He deserves a childhood untarnished by a future he will never experience. He deserves to know happiness."

Happiness... A lifetime of being lied to, of being smiled to by those who knew what the future had in store? Of those who knew fate was death and death was dawn?

"I will not allow him to die."

"The Gods have spoken, Luna. You are the Oracle. You know better than anyone else what will happen to Eos should the darkness consume the land. If the Accursed—"

The song crescendoed and suddenly, just as the violinist hist the high note, the screech of breaking strings and screams echoed through the hall. The doors splintered as red magic, blood magic, pushed in.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear."

Luna's stomach rolled and King Regis's hand tightened against hers. She could feel the bones grinding against one another, but her own grip was just as tight. The opalescent white felt more like a shroud.

"No. No."

Not him.

Not him. Not here.

Not now.

"Oh, such a beautiful celebration. A party truly worthy of a King, your Highness. I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness. It seems my invitation was lost in the mail. How truly dreadful communication has been between our countries—war tends to do that. A pity. "

Luna let go of Regis's hand and ran—not toward the man, nor toward the exit.

Noctis. Noctis.

She had to protect Noctis.

There was only one reason he would come, one reason he would dare...

But the man only laughed.

"Oh, my dear queen. do not worry your sweet head. I came bearing gifts. A gift for the King the Stone, the King of Kings." His laugh was the same now as it was when she was a child, when he had sat himself down on her Mother's throne. "Though perhaps this is equally a gift for you, Queen Lunafreya."

Ardyn Izunia snapped his fingers and a ornate red box appeared from the ether. It floated there, the black ribbons perfectly tied in a bow at the top fluttering as it slowly moved toward Luna and Noctis.

"Do make sure to open it soon. Perishables never do keep long without ice and the travel from Gralea is quite long."

Partygoers gave the gift a wide berth and Luna could see the Glaive—could see Nyx—running through the crowd toward them, but there was no chance that he would arrive in time to stop the box.

Someone moved behind her—Ignis and Gladio, no doubt, pulling Noctis away.

It could have been a bomb, an explosion, and for that Luna was grateful it was aimed at her. Her magic was the only thing that would protect her, protect them.

"Luna! No—"

But Luna didn't hesitate in calling her magic around herself and the box, then around her body like a second skin. Her Artemisia had trained her well—she could handle this.

She could handle it.

The red magic smashed into her golden barrier and the box dissolved before her.

And the present, the gift Ardyn Izunia had so lovingly wrapped in red wrapping paper and a beautiful black bow, spilled out across Lunafreya's dress.

Blood and black, matted hair.

Green eyes.

Gentiana's head rolled down Luna's dress, meeting the black marble floor with a thunk. Her eyes, unseeing, stared up at the mural of the Gods and their Chosen King.

Chapter Text

It took time to put together a response to Ardyn Izunia's actions. To kill the body of a God, to dare place her head inside a box, to present it to the Prince...

It was the second time they had felled the Gods. The second time they had mocked immortality and spit in the faces of the Six.

The Kingdom of Niflheim once again crossed a boundary that not even their people would tolerate. Even if most of the commoners from Niflheim did not care for the gods, they knew what happened when they were crossed. A world of eternal snow. A land where the crops did not grow in the inches of ice that became the topsoil. A land of darkness, of ever-cloudy days and near-perpetual night.

It was what the Gods spoke of, what prophecies foretold, and what had happened to Niflheim the first time.

The second time was worse, though not by unending snow or clouds that darkened the night.

It came in magic, it came in fire, it came in blood.

But not from the Gods.... the gods were silent. The gods who ignored Luna's Calls.

The Gods... had they forsaken them? Forsaken humanity due to Niflheim's actions? Even Shiva, Gentiana.... she did not answer the Call. When Luna cried out for her, to hear her voice, to apologize for not protecting the woman she had trusted through the darkest of nights, there had been nothing but the whisper of a cold breeze. And even that breeze Luna did not know if it was her.

"Your Majesty. We found a functioning MT factory."

It was the mission Luna sent Gentiana on. Deep inside Niflheim, snuggled between the mountains and snowdrifts, were little pockets of civilization. Little pockets of men and women making Magitek infantries. Most of the people made their way to the Capital, but those who were outside the city's limits were busy making...

Making...

"Where?"

It had been almost two years of endless war, of pressing further and further into Niflheim territories. Most of the factories were nothing but burned out husks by the time the Tenebrae Army and the Lucian Armies managed to pass through the snow. Without Gentiana, the snow could not be controlled.

It was a blessing that Tenebrae's borders still held strong with the light of the sun. Perhaps it was a gift, a final gift, from a Goddess grown weary of humanity. Gentiana always loved her...

"About two hundred miles Northwest of Gralea."

"Near the border?"

Libertus, the newest Captain of the Kingsglaive, nodded as he pulled out a tablet, showing her the map. There was a mark nearly overlapping the new border of Niflheim.

"Yes, Your Highness. We've put it on lockdown and made sure to keep the scientists alive, as per your orders."

Luna nodded as she pushed up her sleeves and took the tablet from Libertus's hands. "And the Magitek?"

That had been something that had bothered Luna since she was a little girl, since Niflheim invaded Tenebrae. The Magitek.... they always felt off. Too organic. She knew that whatever was inside would burn in the sun. She knew her magic would leave them nothing but heavy metal and black blood. But how they were made, how they thrived...

"Do you know how they made them?"

Libertus swallowed. "Nyx said it wasn't pretty."

"I want to see it. Bring me there."

Libertus sighed and plucked the tablet out of her hands. "He said you'd say something like that."

Luna smiled, wryly. "He would. He knows me very well."

Libertus said nothing, but Luna knew that this man may as well have been Nyx and Crowe's brother. The years they had spent together in Galahd, then the Glaive—of course he knew.

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Your Captain said that she can get you there in a few hours, if you're willing to use the Nif airships we commandeered."

Luna held in her groan. The ships were useful, but the rocking back and forth made Luna miss the feeling of hard soil under her feet. She may have been a bird, but her wings were clipped long ago. Her place was on the ground. "Tell her to ready the bloody things. I want this done today. How many can the carrier hold?"

"Ten, plus two pilots. The ground forces have secured the route, so there should be no problems. I'll be going with you, since I can warp us out if anything happens."

Luna pursed her lips. "Libertus, are we expecting anything to happen?"

"Better safe than sorry, your Majesty."

"Nyx would damage you in irreparable ways should anything happen."

Libertus's chuckle was low. "And Crowe'd bring me back to burn the pieces."

"How is she?" Luna didn't doubt that her voice was more than curious, more longing than she dared to admit.

"She's—she's doing okay. There's a nice girl working at Yama's now. They hit it off real good. I think you'd like her."

The pain was there, but it was more of a mild sting than a searing blow. Luna knew she could not be a cage. People like Crowe, they deserved to be free.  Luna deserved to be free, too.

Time and distance. Another time....

"I'm sure I would. If I have another chance to visit Insomnia, I will make sure to pay them a visit."

"I think she'd like that."

Luna smiled and stood, brushing her white dress down to cover her knees. "Make the arrangements and contact your King and my brother. If things go right, we will need to move them to Insomnia quickly."

"You going to..."

"If they are willing to do what is needed, then there will be no need for bloodshed."

Libertus held the tablet tighter to his chest.

"Do you know—"

"I have an idea, yes," Luna replied brusquely. "But if they can do what I need them to do.... it is worth it, Libertus." She hoped he could understand it in her tone, in the way she forced the words from her mouth. She did not need him to question her. She did not need anyone to question her. Not on this, at least.

"The Empire of Niflheim is held together by lies, Libertus. Just as secrets are to your own Kingdom."

"And your Kingdom, Your Majesty?"

Luna watched as the door slowly opened before turning to Libertus.

"Blood, my dear Libertus. My Kingdom is held together by blood.”

With that, Luna left her War Room.

Chapter Text

They were...

They were...

"By the Gods. What have you done?"

Luna looked up at the tubes, at the faces that floated in the clear fluid. The lights behind them gave off an ethereal glow, and though they had no hair Luna knew that face.

She knew that face....

"Prompto..."

Libertus let out a sharp breath. "Shit. You're right."

"That kid... the one that hangs around Prince Noctis?" Nyx had one of the doctors, bound at the wrists and mouth taped shut, by the scruff of his jacket. Luna spared him a backward glance, though she refused to look at the doctor.

Luna turned back to the glass and rested her fingers upon it. Cold. Lifeless. The body inside floated, perfectly still except for the gentle bobbing of his body at the current of the filtration system. It tapped ever so gently against the glass, a macabre song of a bird's wings fluttering against a cage.

"How long have they been here?"

"This facility? About twenty years old, it seems."

Luna rested her forehead against the glass. She could feel it through the glass: They had heartbeats. She could feel it with her magic like she could feel the spring and the song of the wind.

"Remove the tape from the doctor's mouth. Make him speak."

"Tried to earlier. Didn't seem to want to talk very much."

Luna tightened her fists. "If he does not wish to speak, then the Gods will speak through him. Nyx..."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Luna's hands shook. When Nyx called her that... she was not his Luna. Not his Princess.

She was Queen Lunafreya and she would do what she needed.

After that, it didn't take much for the doctor to break. Nyx... Nyx did what she asked; no more and no less.

"Shiva, p—please! No more! The—the specimens. Th—they're d—da—damaged."

Damaged. Was nothing that Niflheim touched left undamaged?

"Chancellor Izunia—he... he told us. He helped us. Plea—"

Luna smashed her hand against the glass. "Put the tape back on him, Libertus. Get him—take him away. Nyx, help me remove them from these tanks."

"Are you crazy? These are genetically modified daemons—"

Luna stared up into the sleeping face of Noctis's friend. She could remember how he felt in her arms, how his skin had felt so peculiar against hers. He was special... he was different. There was no Scourge within the walls of Insomnia, but there had been something inside of him, something that called to her magic. She healed him. She had healed him of the taint.

"They are people in my annexed land. I will do with them as I please."

"Luna, listen to me. We have bigger problems to worry about. I need to contact King Regis—"

The scientist made a barking sound, one between a strangled animal and a laugh.

"What do you find so funny?"

"He—he gave him.... the Lucian—gave him a specimen."

Luna's words caught in her throat.

"He came," the scientist mumbled. "He ca—came. The Chancellor—took one of th—them. Right here, right here." The scientist pulled away from Libertus, the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Took him away..."

"He's a spy—"

"He is not," Luna responded, her words like ice. "The king need not know of this. There is no evil within that boy."

The doctor winced. "The daemon bl—blood. The device—"

"What device?"

The scientist shivered as he pointed to the wires amassed at the bottom of the tanks, the ones that ran up toward the top and then looped around the arms of the body inside. "The one implanted into them when they’re babies. If they live… we put the daemon inside."

Luna thought back to the young man and his soul, the pastries shoved into his pockets and his bright, reverent smile. She had cured him... she had taken away the daemon's touch.

"He has been cured of his ailment, I assure you."

The scientist was silent for a moment before shuddering. "They were not made to—to be cured."

"Libertus. Remove him."

The man tried to say something else—a warning? A suggestion? A word against her family name, even. Luna did not know. All she could see was the young man dangling in cold liquid and hear his heartbeat fluttering in his chest.

"Take him out, Nyx."

"It's not a good idea."

Luna grimaced. "Many of my ideas have not been good. Be on guard if you must, but... It is my duty to heal them of the Scourge."

Nyx's mouth turned down into a scowl. "Luna, look. I get that you want to save them, but there's nothing to save. They're just shells. They've got no souls, no memories. They're just—"

"Empty. Yes. MT." Luna knocked on the glass and for a moment it seemed the body—no, the man —inside heard. His eyelids fluttered for but a moment before returning to their perfect stillness. "But nonetheless. It is my duty. Nyx. Remove him from the chamber."

"If anything goes wrong..."

"It won't."

It took a few minutes for Nyx to figure out how to remove the bodies from tanks and lay them down across the ground. The glass had muffled the daemons inside, though how Luna did not quite know. The contraption, whatever it was.... Luna could feel it in them, a black hole deep inside their souls. When she looked into the abyss, it stared back.

It was nothing like the Prompto she had met, though his face was the same.

"I... Perhaps I can... plug it."

She reached out and rested her hand against the body. it was only slight warm under her fingers, though mostly clammy and trembling. How long had it felt nothing but the touch of cold fluid against its skin?

No. His skin. His. Not an it. In another life, another time... he would have been a little boy. Or, perhaps, nothing at all.

She reached out with her magic, pulling from the place inside of her that whispered its promises, even if the Gods had forgotten to answer. It was the part of her that had been with her since her birth and would exist until her death. Magic was in her blood, in her movements, in the ground and in the air. It was in the ice and the fire. And, more than anything, it was in her hands.

Pale yellow light touched the body of the boy that looked like Prompto.

And it healed. For a moment the magic settled into his skin and his eyes slowly opened. They were bright and so colorful, like Sylleblossom petals and Luna could feel the daemon's Scourge pull away. She could do this, could take away the taint from his body. It would be perilous, the journey to life, but he could have it.

She could fix it.

It hurt to take in the Scourge, to pull it from the experiment's body, but she knew it had to be done. The black bile built up inside of her, screaming for release, but she held onto it until the last dregs of the disease were gone and she called back her magic.

Luna felt woozy as she stared down at the body. How many different futures would he have? How many possibilities?

They were endless.

Perhaps she would bring him to Insomnia—

And Luna could feel it before she could see it. The blue eyes turning black, the feeling of the daemon's essence inside, as though it had never left.

"Told you."

To anyone else, from anyone else, it would have been rubbing salt in the wounds, telling her that she was a failure. But Nyx's hand on her shoulder as she slowly pulled the body to her chest was a comfort.

Luna held back her tears, the tears she wished she could shed for the broken body in her arms. He never really had a chance, had he? None of them did…

“Why?”

She wasn’t sure if she asked the gods or Nyx, but neither answered.

“Luna…”

“How… How should I? We…. we can’t leave them here. Not like this.”

Nyx sighed. “Would you like me to, your Majesty?”

“What should I do?” Luna’s laugh was hollow. “Slit their throats as they lay in my arms?”

Nyx shook his head, mouth pulled into a grim line. “That would be cruel, your Majesty. Slitting a throat takes a few minutes to kill someone. It would be best if we behead them. Or—”

Luna looked down at the bald head, the pale yellow brows. “If… I can remove the Scourge, keep it at bay… Would you be able to—” Luna paused. “Would you do it?”

“Lu… I don’t think you want to see it.”

“They’re my people, Nyx. They have suffered enough. Let me… Let me at least give them this peace.”

If there was a Beyond for lost souls then maybe they would see it, be able to exist in peace as they never had the opportunity to in life.

“It’s gunna be messy.”

Luna crouched and pulled the experiment’s hand up, pressing it to her chest.

“Then we should be quick.”

She wasn't expecting it to be clean. But still, pulling out the Plague, holding the black bile within her as Nyx cut... even if he didn’t scream, didn’t make more than a gurgle, Luna wanted to do it for the experiment. She wanted to scream, to cry, to beg for forgiveness from Gods that no longer listened.

It was quick, if nothing else. Nyx’s blades were sharp and his hit was true. Still, the blood pooled around the broken body and Luna could feel it seeping into her shoes.

“For all of them?”

Luna gently let go of the hand, tucking it against the experiment’s chest.

“Yes.”

Thirty seven. Thirty seven experiments. Thirty seven lost souls. Thirty seven heads. Thirty seven deaths.

By the time it was done, Luna’s boots soaked through with blood and Nyx’s kukris dripped against the stones below.

“Burn them. Leave nothing behind.”

Luna did not want to look at them, but she did. She watched as the black smoke and orange fire began to unfurl from Nyx’s hand, engulfing the bodies in a flash of heat.

It was magic, but it was different. It was not the cold, not as Luna knew from so many years before.

This was betrayal.

This was wildness.

Wildness like raging seas of flame and anger.

And Luna wished for the sweet numbness of ice.

Chapter Text

When the snows began to brush against Fenestala Manor's front doors, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret knew she had gone too far.

It was foolish to believe that a Goddess would be able to protect her, despite their time together. Gentiana had been her guardian, her shepherd through the darkness. She had helped Luna in ways that few would understand, with things that could not dare be spoken of. As an Oracle, it was her job to clear the Scourge, to take in the Gods' Holy Light and remove the darkness and blight from her people.

Gentiana did her best, and for that she was rewarded with a gift tied up in a pretty red box with a black bow.

But the scientists were hers, and what she needed... no God would be willing to give her. She had begged them on bruised knees and chapped hands and never received it. She cried and pleaded, even bartered. But Gods did not want for something. They simply took.

Luna was no fool; young, perhaps. Sometimes the light in her eyes blinded her from the truth. On occasion she chose to see the best in others, in her Gods.

But on this, she knew, she was not wrong.

She couldn't be wrong.

The scientists should have been executed for what they did, for the process that they created. Turning cells into fetuses, from fetuses into newborns, from newborns into mindless monsters shoved inside of metal armor. The millions of monsters they created from unwilling flesh...

And she chose to keep them alive.

She had taken the souls of the boys they had created and ordered them to die. They were innocent, and it was only to spare them the agony of becoming monsters.

She had burned their bodies, a desecration in the eyes of the Gods, no doubt.

She did this.

All of this.

She sent her brother out into deep Niflheim territory the moment that the snows began to fall. He was to retrieve Shiva's giantess body, to move it into the sea or burn it to ash. If they didn't stop the magic, the anger and wrath of the Gods, then the entirety of the continent would be nothing but a frozen husk. There would be no fear of the Scourge, only the plagued corpsed frozen to death in the tundra.

The people of Tenebrae hadn't angered the Gods.

She did that on her own.

But they would suffer, they all would suffer.

She would not allow them to kill Noctis, not if she could change things. Not if it were up to her. It was her prayer, her constant whisper to herself since she was old enough to know the fate of her oldest friend. Her mother wouldn't want her to—

No. It was best not to think of her mother, not now. Not after what she had done.

It took Ravus a week to return, but when he arrived... it wasn't as he should have been.

Luna looked up at her brother when he was carried into the throne room, Aranea and Nyx holding him up. Luna could see the cold chill of Shiva's gift against his skin. The blackness and the necrotizing flesh. The rot that went down deep to the bone made her feel nauseous, and the closer got the more she could smell it, sickly sweet and cloying.

It turned her stomach, but she didn't look away. How could she when it was her actions that had sent him out there to begin with?

This was death that she cursed upon them all. In her anger, in her pain about the blood of thirty seven husks in a Niflheim factory.

She did this.

"Ravus!"

Ravus tried to say something, but the shivering made him nearly bite off his tongue.

"Please. Ravus! Someone—get the doctors!"

Luna did not know what to do; she had seen wounds, blood, death. She held the hands of her people as their bodies rotted from Plague. She could cure them of their disease, of the Blight, but for her own brother...

She could do nothing but cradle his cold cheek to her dress. This pain, this agony.... not even she could fix it.

It didn't stop her from trying, but her magic... it was a gift of Shiva.

Ice could not heal ice.

She knew that when he came back, things would be different. It was in the weeks of treatment, in the cold that never seemed to leave his skin. it was in the prayer he spoke of when he saw her for the first time, as though she were a ghost and he were nothing but vapors. They took his arm, cauterizing the rotting flesh. She watched as they held him down and doused his arm with elixir after elixir, but this was a God's anger.

This was wrath.

It didn't matter what Gentiana once was; the body of Shiva did not care that once upon a time she had loved the mortals. That she held them to her freezing bosom and brought to them peace and prosperity. It didn't matter that Gentiana had loved Lunafreya, and Lunafreya had loved Gentiana. The body of the Goddess, frozen in her trenches, had become something else.

Ravus spoke between his screaming, when the delirium would subside and the only thing he could do was sob out Shiva and Lunafreya's name.

The reports came in soon enough, and the terror that had touched at Lunafreya had grown in ways no words could dare to explain.

The winds had begun to blow and the frozen corpse of the Glacian had begun to move. it did not walk, for it was still dead and the dead did not move.

But the wind itself blew, and so she moved. Meter by meter over the tundra.

Towards Tenebrae.

Luna had sobbed that night into Ravus's bed linens, screaming for the gods to hear her, to reply. She begged, she pleaded.

She was doing what was best for her people. She wanted to protect them.

She wanted to protect them all.

But the gods did not answer, and Lunafreya knew, deep inside her that if she did nothing—by the Gods, if she did nothing, there would be no Tenebrae. There would be no Niflheim. There would be no Insomnia.

She knew what she had to do, even though the thought made her hands shake. So, she kissed her brother's brow and in the coldness of the night with only Aranea as her escort, Lunafreya headed toward a place that held no cold, that burned like fire and like sin.

Luna didn't even say goodbye to Nyx.

He would have stopped her.

They all would have stopped her.

Even Aranea wanted to stop her, Lunafreya knew. But she was sworn in ways that only Ravus was; she did not bend her neck to another king, and for that Luna was eternally grateful.

The last thing that she needed was for the Lucian Empire to find out what she was doing. They had their own God, the God of the Crystal and of the Light, to deal with. He, Bahamut, who swore to bring the dawn at the cost of the Lucian Empire. He, who promised the end of a Scourge created by the Infernian, the price being a little boy who was still growing into a man, one that did not deserve to have fate thrown atop his shoulders at the age of four.

She promised herself that she would protect him, that she would protect all of them.

And if it meant walking across fire, then so be it.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, child of the Moon and Ice, would bend her neck to no God.

Not even the Infernian.

But...

Even Queens must bring offerings when seeking peace.

Chapter Text

Finding him was easier than Luna dared to admit. It was as if she followed the steam that only she could see, whispering in Aranea's ear directions to a place that she had never been and yet she could see in the back of her mind like a pop-up book playing in the shadows of her conscious.

He had always been there, hiding in her anger, hiding in the flames.

She hadn't wanted him, hadn't wanted to hear his call. He, the Broken. He, the Imprisoned. He, the Shamed and Defiled.

And yet...

Ifrit was the only one who could end the Scourge. If he had brought it to Eos, if he had cursed them with the disease, then he could end it. He could take away what kept Ardyn Izunia alive. He could fight the cold with his flame.

He could give her the gift of Fire.

"Luna, this isn't a good idea."

"I know that," Luna whispered into her captain's winter jacket. "But I cannot stand beside them and do nothing. It is my job to—"

"Your job to lead them, to heal them. But this? Luna, this is fucking crazy."

 But Luna turned her head and stared out across the expanse of moving machinery. 

"When they find that I have gone, do you think they will send the fleet after me?"

"You better hope they don't," Aranea muttered as she hit the accelerator on the airship, making the ship zoom through the clouds. She could almost see the blue of the sky, the memory of something that she had not seen in Tenebrae for weeks. Not since the snow had begun to fall. Not since the nightmare that she had only dreamed about and woke to find herself screaming into the night.

Those were the nights where Nyx would hold her close and swear to her that whatever she saw, whatever was there, he would protect her from.

But nothing, not a lover nor man, could save her from herself.

"I must do this. I am the only one who can."

She didn't tell Aranea what she needed, not in words. But in the place she requested, it became clear as day what she was going to do. Aranea need only to continue forward and across to ocean toward His final resting place.

There was only one reason to go to the Rock of Ravatogh.

It was, according to legend, where Bahamut and Ifrit had dueled, the place where Ifrit had been banished and sworn as a monster by His blood. By His kin. By His own lover. 

It was there, nestled between the burning embers of the volcano, where He had twisted His heart and created the Scourge, a curse to humanity. At least that was what Gentiana had told her so many times, whispered like a holy lullaby.

Why had He done it? What hope could He have in doing so? Was it jealousy? Greed? Anger? Lust? 

What could make a God lose His way?

But it did not matter whether or not his reasons were acceptable, because she was sure they were as vast as the ocean and as black as the night sky. 

It didn't matter, because in this moment the only thing she knew was that the Gods ignored her call, but He did not.

It was fire, she knew. It was hot and blazing, and He was meant to be there.

He called to her, and she had no choice but to answer. If not for herself, then for her people. 

It felt like a trap, something she wished she hadn't done the moment the airship landed at the top of the mountain and she could feel her boots heat under her. It was the first time she had felt warmth in so long, and it took more than she expected to not lean down and bask in the Lucian sunlight.

Would it be possible for her to move her people? To leave Fenestala Manor and to evacuate all of her people to the deserts and open plains of the Lucian countryside? Luna knew it could be done, even at the expense of her country, of her memories. Her home, her life, her memories would be nothing but sylleblossoms carried on the open breeze.

And she could do it, she knew she could. She could do anything for her people, anything for Tenebrae. Anything for Noctis or her brother or Nyx.

And that was what allowed her to move forward, to follow the sound of something whispering in the shell of her ear.

She could not trust the Infernian, but she needed to know if there was something that she could do, some way for her to fight against the cold. For her to fight against destiny and crystals and Lucian Kings who were so lost inside their own hate, consumed by the loss of life and of the dawn...

 She needed this to be real. She needed to know.... 

If the Gods would not save her people, then she had to do it herself.

She needed Ifrit to listen, or at least for Him to show Himself as the cruel and capricious God that was whispered to her as a child at the feet of her mother. If He roared back, if he snapped his jaws against her throat, Luna at least knew that she had done her best. She had tried. But without it, He was just like her—abandoned and forgotten, promised a world and then given nothing but ashes.

They were alike, even though her crown was touched by ice. Ice that, on her head, felt like it hummed around her skull like an angry viper, half-starved since its last meal. She could feel the thrumming of the magic, of something there that she knew not a name of, but wanted to know. She needed to know. Without it she would have been lost.

Luna did not know what to expect as she walked across the mountaintop, making her way toward the cave. Aranea tried to follow her, but Luna only shook her head in the briefest of moves— she needed to do this on her own. She needed to be the only one there.

If she had made the wrong choice, only she would suffer the consequences.

Aranea did not need to pay for her sin.

No one did.

But she accepted the comfort of Aranea's hand on her shoulder, the slightest squeeze that made the world dim and the fear disappear, if only for a moment.

"If you need anything.... scream."

"And if you hear me scream, leave. Leave and do not return."

Chapter Text

"Ifrit, God of Fire... I come before you, humbled and beseeching of your wisdom."

"What does the human think, to dare come before me? After everything your kind have done! Your insolence—get out."

Lunafreya looked at the god above her, at his furious, burning face. He looked human, much like Shiva did, but his body was so much larger than hers. It towered above her, a reminder that to them, to the gods, Luna was nothing but an ant. The chains of magic around him glowered brighter than the lava on the walls.

And yet she continued on, because there were no other choices. She had entered into his cavern on her own volition. She could feel her hair singeing at the ends, the flames burning her shoes. But she continued on, continued forward, and beckoned to him.

"Pyreburner, I do not come in insolence or jest. I come to you, today, because you are our only hope of salvation. I am Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. I am the Oracle of the Gods... Though you know that already. I have heard you before, in my dreams... in my times of trial and pain."

It was, after all, his voice that had run in her head, just the faintest of whispers, when Tenebrae burned. It was nothing like Titan, whose booming voice nearly shattered her skull. It was not Leviathan, who cursed her and her people. It was nothing like Ramuh, whose voice had been the kindest, even above Shiva.

Shiva... her voice had been like the first ice of the winter. It had been so soothing once upon a time.

Ifrit was nothing like that. His voice was burned, his screams hoarse. The fire, the smoke, had given him a deep tone that Luna could almost imagine as being of ash itself.

"Mere Human. Foolish Human. You come into my Kingdom and dare question me."

"I do." Luna lifted her head, meeting the god's eyes. She could imagine that once upon a time, he would have been handsome. No wonder the humans so desperately fear one that could almost pass for ethereally beautiful. "I have come to request your power. Shiva has—"

Ifrit made a noise between a laugh and a howl. "You dare speak her name to me, Human?"

"I do. She has turned her back on humanity."

"For good reason, though she was always fickle. Humans.... you are all blind, foolish monsters. You take without regard to your Gods, and then you kill one another. You destroy the ground, the water, the air. You steal and pillage. You rape and murder. You are nothing if not for your vices, and of that I know of many."

Luna did not understand. "But you were the one who created the vices, spurned the humans. It was of your doing. You have loathed us since our creation—"

Ifrit lifted one hand and smashed it into the side of the volcano. "You dare speak your lies, your treachery, here? Here, where I am cursed to live an eternity by myself? Here, where I was cast out by Bahamut for giving you humans more love than you deserved? I gave you fire, I gave you hope and I was destroyed for it!"

"No! I do not lie! I have spoken to the Astrals, and they told me that you went against us, that you wished us death for going against you and your anger—your hatred! You believed our humanity was hubris. That our wishes to be better were more than what you thought we were worth!"

But Ifrit only snarled again. "How dare you! You know nothing, human. I believed in your people, and you betrayed me. There is nothing more in this world that I wish than to be free and humans would prosper. I did not kill you. I protected you. Foolish as it may have been, I thought you better and worthy of love and devotion. I watched you build your towns and then your cities and then your empires. I watched you create science and cures and hope." Ifrit spit and strained against his magical bindings.

"Then why are you here?"

"Bahamut... I was sentenced here as punishment. Punishment for loving humans more than him."

Luna had to bite back a scream. That could not be true.

"I told him, I told him that humans would be worthy of a god's love. They created a beautiful world, an empire. They were kind and just, and... He destroyed them. He killed my creation."

"But Solheim—Solheim was you—"

"No. Solheim was Bahamut. My brother, furious that the humans had chosen me above him. He was always jealous, always petty and vindictive. He wanted what he could not have, and when he failed he destroyed them." Ifrit, for just a moment, looked pained. "The Scourge was of his doing, and the blame was left at my feet. And you humans, you believed him. After everything I had done, how I defied those whom I loved—you believed him."

"But, then... the Scourge?"

"The scourge has kept you humans from ever disobeying. Perfect slaves to his will. Unquestioningly faithful."

"Then why would he—why would he promise that the Scourge would end when the King of Kings sacrifices himself?

Ifrit said nothing for a moment. "Have you never questioned why Ardyn Izunia was cursed with immortality? Why your Lucian King must die to end him when the Gods were the ones to create the Scourge? Why Bahamut has never spoken to you? Why the gods were so quick to turn upon you? Given fire, you made an empire. Burned to ash and yet you rebuilt. But you became spiteful in his image. You have learned from Bahamut that killing is the answer. And you are well-versed in that."

"We do not—"

"You killed the man who caused you pain. The traitor."

Luna sucked in a deep breath and coughed, the heat being far too much for her lungs to handle. "He was dangerous—"

"You excuse your actions, but you have killed. Why did you kill him?"

"Because it was ri—"

"Do not use those words. I have seen your mind. You cannot lie to me."

Luna closed her eyes, remembering the pain of Glauca's hand against her cheek, of the wires in her mouth, of the mask grafted to her face. She remembered the pain of his hands in other places, and how weak she felt.

And in those tears, in her pain, she told herself that she would be safe.

"I wanted him to die."

"Yes. He caused you pain. You hated him, and your heart burned. Your anger was beautiful, and your vengeance was swift—"

"It was not vengeance! He was a danger to my people, a danger to those I have sworn to protect!"

"A human, chained and bound, was a danger to whom? Little Luna—" Luna winced at his teasing tone, "—you know better than that."

"What if he escaped? What if he killed another? What if he hurt another?"

"As he did you? As he killed your mother?" Ifrit laughed so hard the lava gushed about his feet. "What is the difference between your justice and his vengeance?"

Luna should not have come here. She should have stayed as far away, should have figured out another way. Coming here, coming to the Pyreburner—It was the wrong decision.

"You speak of—"

"The truth. And your face speaks though your mouth does not."

Tears burned hot in Luna's eyes, but she could already feel them evaporate away.

"I wish to help my people. I wish to keep them safe."

"Which is why you killed the boys in the metal cages?"

Luna flinched. "They.... they were—"

"Their souls were pure, and yet you killed them."

"But—"

"You humans. Always trying to excuse your actions. I taught you better than that. Was it right of you to kill them?"

"I eased their suffering. I saved them from becoming daemons!"

"And yet you let those who caused their pain and deaths roam free. For what—their science? You turned your back upon my brother. How am I to believe you would not turn your back on me, just as those of the ashes of Solheim did? When you allow your people to burn and slaughter my children—"

"I do not allow harm to them. I have even loved one of your children."

Ifrit sneered. "Your girl is one among thousands. She was lucky where few have been. Those of my children who were born without my mark live longer, but their fire burns strong. And Bahamut would tell you to murder them in an instant, and you would obey. Perhaps... perhaps you have earned your suffering. You may have been of my image, of just and goodness, but it gone. Now, when I look upon you humans, all I see is death."

And His anger, the anger of a god who had suffered...

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't, little Luna. You were far too busy listening to his silence that you could not hear me."

And Luna knew that the ground was hot, that it would burn through her clothes, but she dropped to her knees. "Please....I will show you my worth. Humans are kind. They are gentle. They have mistakes—I have made mistakes. But... please." Luna could feel the ice upon her crown, as solid and cold as it had ever been. 

It pulsed. 

"Let me save them. Protect them, as you did once before." Luna squeezed her eyes shut for a moment as the pain of fire laced from her knees down. She could feel the fabric begin to burn, and with it her skin.

"You kneel, despite your pain."

Luna kept her head up, staring straight up into the Infernian's eyes. The fire against her skin only burned hotter, and she had to bite back a cry. "For my people... I would do anything. I am—ah." Luna bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming. "I am... I am their queen."

"Then I have a request of you, Queen Lunafreya."

Luna dug her fingers around the pendant around her throat. 

"And I of you."

"I will grant you my power, kill the Accursed and to end the Scourge and the cold, but in exchange.... when the time comes... I will land the killing blow to my brother."

"And you swear that my people will live? That Noctis.... that Noctis will live?"

"Yes. In exchange to end the Scourge, he will not have to die."

Lunafreya nodded. "Then I will form a Covenant with you—"

Ifrit lifted his hand as far as his bindings would allow. "You do know the purpose of a Covanent."

When Luna did not speak, Ifrit continued. "By forging a Covenant, you will die. Bahamut has ordained it as such."

Luna's words turned to ash upon her tongue. "I—"

"You were not told?"

"... No. Shiva, she... I was never told." She had known the magic made her sick, that curing the scourge left her shaking and aching, wishing for the end to come. But...

She should not have been surprised. If she had not become a queen, had she stayed under Niflheim's thumb, would she have known? Would she have given her life for her people?

Yes... she would have. But she would have never brought another with her.

Perhaps Ifrit was right. Humans... the hypocrisy....

"I do not require a Covenant. You cannot break my bonds—nor do you need to. No. The only thing I ask is for a promise."

"How will you defeat Bahamut if you cannot leave?" Luna could not help but to question the Infernian.

She expected anger at her insolence, but instead he answered. "I cannot walk the land, this is true. But my children can. They, who have my powers, shall allow me to kill your Accursed. And, by extension, the crystal in which Bahamut thrives. And in exchange, I ask for one thing."

An unsettling feeling built in the pit of Luna's stomach. "Yes?"

"Eos has been at the mercy of those chosen by Bahamut for two millennia. It ends now. Your Lucian King, the one you are so fond of—his line dies with him. No longer shall this planet be ruled by magic of kings given by Gods..."

Luna let out a small breath. If Noctis could live, then...

But Ifrit continued. "And so must it be for Oracles, who share in that magic. Touched by Shiva, her betrayal is the same as Bahamut's. You shall be the last of your kind. You shall bear no children and your brother will sire none. The line of Oracle Queens will end with you."

Children... a dream of a future Lunafreya had never really entertained. When she was a little girl, she dreamed of a future that was bright and hopeful. She dreamed of a rising dawn. Of life. Of happiness.

It was an easy choice.

"Then... I accept."

To be a mother to an entire kingdom— that would be enough.

"Then stand, Queen Lunafreya. Stand and receive my blessings."

He legs burned, but Lunafreya stood on both feet, spine straight and neck tilted up. She could feel the blood running down her legs, that her boots were nothing but burned leather, bottoms melted down to the soles of her feet. She had not dared to shield herself from the heat. Her magic was, as Ifrit had said, that of the Crystal.

She could feel the fire magic against her body, starting with her legs. The blistering pain faded and Luna could feel her jaw go lax as the agony disappeared back into her skin. The magic worked its way up her arms and chest, further and further until she could no longer feel the icy crown around her head.

"No longer shall you be a child of moon and ice. Queen Lunafreya, woman of sun and fire, last of the Oracles—go now. Do what you must for your humans. And when I am ready I will destroy the Accursed and Bahamut."

Luna took one last look at the Infernian's bound hands and face, so human she had to look away, before slowly beginning her ascent.

A drip of water splashed against Luna's cheek, but she could not say whether it was her tears or her weeping crown.

Chapter Text

When they came to Tenebrae after the snows retreated and Shiva's body melted down into the Ghorovas Rift, Luna accepted King Regis and Prince Noctis into Fenestala Manor. It was meant to be the glorious affair of how the Gods had once again spared the people of Tenebrae, how the snows would never dare to permeate through the hills and vales of her people.

She also accepted the terms of surrender of what was left of the Niflheim empire. The grueling, freezing temperatures had left all but Gralea a frozen husk of tundra that, according to some of the scientists that Luna had let live, would take another dozen years to melt away.

A promise of peace. The promise to the end of Magitek, the surrender of the empire, and a future where the sun would shine and the birds would chirp. Life could be sweet. It could be... it could be more than what it was.

Luna wanted to weep when the white flag was thrown at her feet. She knew it hadn't been her army, nor that of Regis. It hadn't even been the cold that drove the last vestiges of war and domination from Iedolas's mind.

No. It had been Ardyn Izunia, staring up with raised hands and tipped hat.

"The god’s forgot… even lambs have teeth.”

There was a sneer to his mouth and a look in his eyes that made Luna want to curl in on herself, but she only stared in stony silence as Iedolas signed the peace treaty. It didn’t matter about Ardyn Izunia; he would get what he wanted in the end. He would die, and the line that had stolen him from history would end.

Ifrit promised that Noctis would not need to die, and for that…

Lunafreya accepted their treaty, signed in frozen blood and, in the case of the Empire’s Scientific Department, swinging feet from short drops. They didn’t fall far enough to snap their necks and that made Luna happier than she dared to ever admit.

There was also the outlawing of harming the children born with magic pulsing through their veins. That had been the easiest and hardest to pass; the people were set in their ways. But Luna would notーcould notーtolerate it any further.

Especially not when she saw Ignis Scientia and his practice daggers in the courtyard on the second night, as he and Nyx went toe to toe. She had seen Nyx fight. Had watched him bleed, too. But Ignis… he had never been quite close enough. Other than their first meeting in Insomnia, she had always kept him at arms’ length.

But now she could see what she had felt under her fingertips all those years ago. When his skin had tingled, when she had felt her jealousy roll in her stomach, she hadn’t known.

But now, watching the sweat bead into his eyes as her used his cuff to haphazardly brush his flushed forehead, she could see it. It was in the way his eyes smoldered, in the wisps of magic that seemed to glisten around him like a halo.

And he had seen her magic, too.

“Noctis… your lover. His mother was from Tenebrae.” Luna looked at Noctis then, noting how bright his eyes were as he watched the training exercise. They were perched up on the garden gazebo, leaning against the white metal as the sun began to set.

“He’s… not my…you don’t have to say it like that.”

Luna couldn’t help but let her eyebrow raise. “So… you two haven’t…?” But she could only smile at Noctis’s soft spluttering. “You’re an adult, Noctis. I would never judge you for whomever you loved. Or took to bed.”

She could see his ears turning bright cherry red. “Lu-Luna! You can’t just—“

“Just what, Noctis?” Luna leaned a little closer on the railing, gently nudging Noctis’s shoulder. She then gently pointed with her chin to Nyx, who was throwing up another shield as he summoned back his kukri. “Can’t speak of making love?”

“Making love? Luna—really? Did you really have to say that?”

And Luna laughed, because in that moment there was no fear about the thought of touching another person’s skin, of feeling their heartbeat against her palms. Here, in her own gardens, she could whisper scandalous gossip to Noctis, with none the wiser.

“Then have you kissed him, dear Noctis?”

“Um… I guess. Kinda.”

Luna hummed as Ignis took another swing with his dagger. The steel blazed with fire and anger. “Has he always been able to do that?”

Noctis blinked. “Uh, kiss me?”

Luna shook her head. “His daggers.”

Noctis exhaled and then shrugged his shoulders, he let his hands wrap around the metal railing. “I guess, yeah. Since we were kids. He was always good with magic—way better than me. I… I always guessed my kids would be better with it than me. Maybe I was just lazy, y’know. With the whole… daemon thing. Maybe Ignis’ll teach them.” There was a wistful smile, one that made Luna’s heart break.

Luna wanted to continue her comments, to joke and laugh about the magic and her own trials with it as a girl, but the words died on her tongue. They turned to ash.

Magic.

“Will you come with me, Noctis? To the field?”

When Aranea went to follow from her perched position, Luna shook her head.

There were many things a queen was meant to do: Care for her country, care for her people. There were just as many things an Oracle was meant to do. From healing the sick of their rotting taint to promising salvation in the glistening of a Crystal, Lunafreya was always meant to do more than what she could have ever imagined. As a child, she had been coaxed forward by Gods and Goddesses promising fate in the purple glow of something that she never wanted. But she was meant to do it, and thus she tried.

She tried.

But fate did not work in such ways, because she was nothing like other queens.

A queen was never meant to lie on her back in the middle of a field, newborn grass tickling her skin. The court, the nobles… they would have scoffed at her; what authority could a woman have with grass in her hair and dirt smudged on her white gown?

Luna turned her cheek into the newly blooming Sylleblossoms, letting the buds scratch against her cheek. The sun was above her, the warmth like a soft blanket against her skin. She could feel another warmth, more like a burning pyre, but she ignored it, instead focusing on the man lying next to her as he stared up at the heavens.

“We haven’t don’t this since we were children,” Luna murmured as Noctis pushed his arm under his head. “I remember pushing your wheelchair so you could catch the fireflies.”

Noctis smiled. “Yeah, I remember that. Wasn’t very good at it.”

“No, you weren’t. But you did catch a few. Ravus was furious when opened the containers in his rooms.” Luna could remember his angry howling through Fenestala Manor, how she pushed Noctis’s wheelchair through the hallways, laughing so hard it was nearly a sob. “But, truly… Thank you for coming. I know… I know it cannot be easy for you.”

“It’s okay, Luna. I… it’s hard for you, too.”

Noctis had no idea…

“Noctis… I must tell you something. Something which I have wanted to tell you for some time.” Luna slowly sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. “And you must let me speak… and if you hate me, then I will accept that as my punishment.”

“How can I hate you, Luna? You’re my friend, right?”

Luna swallowed back the lump in her throat.

Sweet Noctis. Foolish Noctis.

He was never meant to know. She kept it hidden for so long, because she knew that she would be able to change their fates, to give them hope where there was none. And she had done it, hadn't she? She had changed what would come, at the cost of—

Everything they had ever known.

Luna took Noctis's hand between her own as she spread out his fingers, showing his lifelines to the heavens.

"My mother... she told me one day you would be king, and I would be the Oracle that helped you."

Noctis smiled, soft and confused. "Yeah. You mentioned that before. But, Luna... I don't understand. What do you mean?"

Luna wanted to scream to the gods that this was unfair, that it never should have been her promise to them as a child that would hold them to this point.

But he was no longer a child. Time and Ifrit promised that. When she burned away the last of her childhood, the last hopes that the Gods would grant her clemency and to allow them to live, she knew what would come.

She could not allow Noctis to walk into the fires without knowing. Not anymore. Not now, now that she had done as she always promised.

"Do you remember the man from your birthday?" She said it in a whisper, unsure of whether or not her words would carry, and if the Gods above would care to listen. “The man at the peace treaty?” 

"Ardyn Izunia. He's from Niflheim."

Luna shook her head. "Dear Noctis, no... he is not from Niflheim. He never was."

And out came the truth, spilled upon the grass like blood. The promise of her childhood, the way she swore her fealty to a King that had only just been born, bled across the grass like the first gush. It was followed by the spurt of her mother's training, of Gentiana's training. Then came the pooling, from where her mother died and she survive. The whip of blood across Sylleblossoms as she promised to keep Noctis alive. The congealing as time began to pass and the blood rotted.

Finally came the fire. It burned and purified, and that scared Luna most of all.

And Noctis stared at her in rapt fascination that eschewed to horror, then panic, and finally a dazed sort of silence where the fires subsided and what was left in its wake were the ashes. 

"So... I die." 

Luna rested her head against Noctis's hands, allowing her tears to escape and drip down his skin. 

"No. He promised that you may live, that I may live. We can complete our destinies and continue our lives."

"But?" His voice was small, smaller than Luna could remember. Not even the little boy in his wheelchair had sounded so defeated and lost.

"The Crystal and its magic.... When the scourge is wiped from our star, the magic must die with us."

Noctis swallowed back a hysterical laugh. "So we do have to die?"

"Not for a time. You'll live a long, full life. You will watch your empire grow. We will watch our empires grow. And when we die, the promise will be fulfilled. But our magic must not continue. We will be the last."

The last. They were always meant to be the last, weren't they? It had been sworn in the stars, promised against the backdrop of galaxies and nebulas.

"You can be happy, Noctis. All I have ever wanted was for you to be happy." Luna rested her head against his hands for just a moment before pulling them away and gently resting the back of hr hands against the Sylleblossoms below.

"Don't you get to be happy, too?"

Luna felt her mouth go dry. "I... I suppose so." 

Noctis pulled his hands away from Luna's before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Then I want you to be happy, too. What else makes you happy, Luna?"

She looked into the sky, into the waxing moon and the stars, and remembered every prayer and wish.

Luna looked toward the courtyard where Ignis and Nyx, both of whom were busy laughing and groaning at the exertion from their battle.

Then she looked to Noctis, trembling like a frightened lamb but still holding his head up high. That strength, that determination—she had caged herself within it, used it as a shield. She could never break, never bow, never bend.

She held up her neck for so long it felt as though it would snap under the weight.

What Luna yearned for, what she longed for...

“I think… I think I want to be free.”

Chapter Text

When she was a child, Luna had dreamed of a wedding. It was one of the few things the Empire had allowed her to do when she was trapped behind their metal bars and bloody whispers of what would happen if she dared to disobey. It was a way to keep her silent, to keep her placated.

Maria had given her books that she had spread across her room, the picture of silky white giving her a comfort that nothing else could. She imagined what it would be like to feel that cloth against her skin and how her mother would whisper words of comfort into her hair.

There was a tiara, then. Not a crown. Not for this. Her mother would nestle it upon her head, her blond hair catching in the bristles. It would be the same one her mother had worn when she had married, and the thought left a little lump in Luna's throat.

She would close her eyes as she escaped into the depths of the magazines and photos, wishing for a royal dress and a prince that would give her comfort. It was one of the few things she had.... no one would dare take it from her.

But they had, in the end, taken that from her. It was after General Glauca visited and commented through clenched teeth and a hand wrapped around her throat. She was not to have fun, to be given thoughts of peace when all she had earned was his anger. He had torn the books with his own hands, the paper falling like snow.

Luna thought of those dresses, of those tears, of that fear and anger and desperation—and allowed it to be washed away as she slipped on her mother's favorite dress. Well...

Luna liked to think of it as a dress, but her mother would never have worn it outside of her quarters. It was more of a dressing gown for sleeping and resting than anything of what a Queen would wear to her own wedding. There were no jewels, no intricate patterns or expansive lacework. The cut was simple and modest, the color faintly tinged yellow from time.

It still smelled like her, though. Luna lifted the fabric up to her nose, inhaling the soft, sweet smell of sylleblossoms and her mother's perfume

The door slipped open and luna turned, enjoying the rush of wind from her sprawling skirts.

"You look like her," Ravus whispered, and Luna had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from crying.

He looked better now than he had before, but the cold had left him without more than just his arm. The wounds had healed and the festering flesh scraped from bone, but Luna could see it in his eyes even now. The white suit he wore, the arm sewn shut and buttoned to his throat despite the warm breeze.

"Ravus," Luna whispered as she held open her arms. 

He fit so perfectly there, and Luna could feel the warmth in her skin seep into his body. She tried her best to give, to warm him in places that Shiva's corpse had taken, and did not shudder when his cold cheek rested against her shoulder. 

"You're cold, Ravus. Is there anything I can do?"

"It is my weakness. It's in my skin, sister. There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, Lunafreya. I am sorry I could not be stronger for you."

"Oh, hush, dear brother. She would be proud of you," Luna whispered. "You protected me, you protected us all." 

He looked, for a moment, like the little boy covered in their mother's blood and screaming for Regis. Screaming for help when there was none to give, none to receive. He looked like the broken boy who had come to her room after Glauca had taken what he wanted and held her in the bloody snow of a child's hopes and dreams.

But that was the boy. This was the man who had picked her up, cradling her broken body to his as he promised her the crown, promised them their freedom. He would join their army, take their punishment, and they would work together to destroy them.

What he promised was what he did, and Luna wished there was more that she could do to comfort him.

"Do you remember my tenth birthday?" Luna asked, feeling Ravus tremble in her arms. "When I asked mother—"

"For a butterfly net. It's impossible that I would forget, Lunafreya. You managed to do quite a bit of damage to the local wildlife population. The butterflies were utterly terrified of you."

Luna smiled. "Is that so? What I remember is that we stayed out for hours, until the sun had set and my feet were blistered and sore. I remember you carrying me on your back."

"Maria said that it was unbecoming of a future King and the Oracle." Luna could almost see the smile in his voice. "Your feet left bruises when you kicked me." Ravus rustled in her arms as he moved back to his full height, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You didn't mind..."

"Of course not. It was my duty as your brother to see you were safe."

"Even from stubbed toes?"

Ravus rested their foreheads together for a moment before he pulled back, using his good hand to wipe at his face. Luna made sure to turn around, knowing that her brother did not want her to see his tears.

"Especially from stubbed toes, sister."

"Do you remember the Sylleblossoms mother wore? Aranea gathered some this morning. I was hoping that you would...?" Luna slowly walked to her dresser, picking up a stalk of the blue flowers that had been twisted into a crown.

"I would be honored."

Luna sat down and stared into her mirror as Ravus followed behind. His body cast a shadow on the mirror, but the sun shined behind him giving an ethereal glow. He accepted the crown and gently slid it into place the best he could with only one hand.

"Aranea said you had her working on this since the morning."

Luna hummed as she reached up to pull a few pieces of hair to the side. "Yes... though it was peculiar that the head of my Artemisia was not, in fact, in her own bed. Anything to say to that, dear Ravus?"

Luna let out a little laugh at the way Ravus's eyes went wide and his hand slipped against the flower crown.

"I haven't the faintest."

"Yes. I imagine your bed is much more comfortable."

Ravus coughed slightly, shaking his head. "I wouldn't know what you are insinuati—"

"Well, I imagine you wouldn't know what your bed feels like, either. Especially when you have been sleeping atop my Captain. She certainly seems soft in some places."

"Lunafreya!"

Luna laughed, enjoying the small comfort of her brother's scandalized face in the mirror. "Oh, come now, Ravus. I've known for years that should I have a need for Aranea on her day off, it would be best to skip the formalities and knock on your door."

"Such language is hardly befitting a—"

"Bride," Luna said firmly. "Today... let me be that."

The corners of Ravus's mouth quirked up. "Of course. A blushing, virginal bride."

"Well—"

"I'm sorry, I cannot hear you, sister. My heart can only take so much today." Ravus leaned down and pressed one final kiss against the crown of her head, letting his hand rest against her shoulder.

"Will you walk with me?"

Ravus nodded. "Of course. I may no longer be able to carry you as I once did..."

But Luna took his hand from her shoulder, making sure to press it against her cheek. "Thank you, Ravus."

"Of course."

Chapter Text

Luna was surprised that her hands were shaking.

It wasn't much, just barely a tremor, but she could feel it like an earthquake under the surface of her skin. She wasn't hesitant, wasn't questioning—this was her decision, after all—but her hands belied a painful truth that Luna could not hide from herself.

She was scared.

She shouldn't have been; it was the day that she had waited for her entire life, the day that she had dreamed of as a young girl, locked away in a cold tower with nothing but books to comfort her. It was nothing like the wedding she had dreamed of through golden bars, but it was hers. It was theirs.

Ravus had been so at peace when he pressed her hand to Nyx's in the middle of the meadow, to the spot where nothing grew and nothing ever would. Luna could feel it in her body, in her magic, in her very soul that she was there, even if Luna knew it wasn't possible. Her mother had been so kind, so compassionate, so fierce and loyal. She had given everything for her children, allowed them to have this one moment of freedom, this one moment of glory.

Still, her hands shook just enough for her to notice, and just enough for Nyx to notice, too.

She thought for the briefest of moments that he would say something, tell her that they were wrong and that this wedding could hardly be true. She was a Queen and he was a Glaive, and for all the world to see they were nothing alike. Status, blood, lineage—all of it, any of it, was different. But he only needed to look into her eyes to know her answer, know that the fire burning inside her was more than the coldness of ice. She was ready, and he was, too.

There were so few in attendance—only those who Luna and Nyx trusted implicitly—but it was more than enough. This was not supposed to be a political statement. It wasn't to be broadcast to her people or even to the Gods above. It was just them, before the sun set, standing in a field of sylleblossoms. It was the most important people to them standing side by side in a small circle, little candles glowing in their hands.

No, this was for them. This was their moment, and Luna could only feel grateful that the warm winds blew and Nyx looked down at her through heavy-lidded eyes. She could feel every eye on her, but only his mattered at that moment when their fingers touched for the first time.

"We cannot swear our vows to the Gods," Luna finally murmured as Nyx ran the pad of his thumb against her hand, "but we will swear our vows to each other."

Completely unorthodox, absolutely unacceptable, what would others think if they had heard the Oracle Queen speak such blasphemy? She could hear someone behind her take in a too-deep breath, but Luna did not turn to see who it was. They would have to accept her truth as what it was.

Luna was tired of the games, tired of the pain and the doubt and the fear. She wanted this, wanted this moment more than she had ever really thought. Those dreams had died so long ago, but here they were, reborn from the ashes.

Nyx looked handsome in his suit, the white tie standing out stark against his black shirt. It was his willingness to wear the Tenebrae color that had caught Luna by surprise, and she had to look up and blink back tears before continuing. Her words were raw and unfiltered, touched by something that had no name.

"Nyx Ulric, I stand before you not as the Queen, nor as the Oracle. I stand before you simply as me: Luna. It has taken me far too long to understand that, to know who I was. I wanted to be like her, to be someone my mother could be proud of." Luna swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I pushed myself forward, trying so hard to emulate her that I forgot who I was. You helped me remember, you helped me learn. You helped me heal."

Luna tightened her grip in Nyx's hand, praying that her voice did not fail her.

"I don't know what the future holds for us. I question every morning if the sun will rise, and thus far it has. But if it doesn't, I know in my heart that your warmth will guide me."

Luna looked into blue eyes, listening to Nyx's intake of breath and his thick, warm baritone voice.

"You've changed me, Luna. You've made me a better man. I know this is crazy, but I think that's what I love about you. You don't even realize what a difference you make on others. People.... they don't see you like I do, Princess."

Luna let out a little laugh at the huff she could hear from Near here where Ravus stood.

Nyx reached up with his empty hand, brushing his fingers under her eye. "You're so stubborn, sometimes and it drives me crazy. But you're worth going a little crazy for, Luna."

Luna wondered if the others wished there were more words, more explanations for a wedding that none of them expected. How could Luna explain to them what she had told Noctis? How could sh explain to them what she had promised the Pyreburner? She wanted to say something, but she found the words caught in her throat as she reached up and pressed her hand to the pendant at her throat. She wished that her mother could have been there, could have seen what her daughter had become.

But instead Luna slowly withdrew her hand from Nyx's and undid the clasp on her necklace. There hadn't been time for metal wedding bands, and this would have to do.

She reached up and around Nyx's neck, clasping the delicate moon pendant around his throat. It was a little short, but it glowed in the light of the setting sun and the candles the others held within their hands to fight off the darkness.

"I... I know it's a bit weird, but..." Nyx reached down into the front pocket of his suit, pulling out a small ring. She noticed the material immediately, and had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from laughing. "Tradition and all. You took my braid, so.... it's only fitting that you get to keep it with you. It's a sign in Galahd. My mom wore my father's from the day she first took it from him until her last."

Luna's hand barely trembled as she held it out for Nyx to slip the band over her knuckle. It was thin, made of twining braids, but she could see the expert craftsmanship. When she looked up at Nyx, she could almost see the pink on his ears. "She taught me how to do it when I was little. Said to only get married if I found a woman spunky enough to cut it off in the first place."

She hoped that somewhere in the Beyond, both of their mothers were watching over them.

She hoped they were both proud.

It was almost surreal then, how their hands splayed out and came together as one as Maria stepped forward to tie the strand of white lace around their clasped fingers. The comforting embrace made Luna's throat dry and her eyes leak, though she tried her best to pull back the tears.

"I name you mine," Luna whispered as she closed her eyes, tilting her head up toward the sun's waning light.

"And so do I."

As Nyx kissed her, it was only then that Luna realized her hands were no longer shaking.

Chapter Text

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret was blessed by the Gods before she was born. She had heard their whisper in tandem to the scream of her mother as she came into the world. Luna knew that it wasn’t possible for her to remember, that they were just stories passed down through time. Each time she heard it, whether it was from her mother or Maria or even Ravus, she understood what they meant by the words. She was born for her blood, born for her duty.

She accepted that duty. That—that was her choice.

Breaking from the Gods and their absolute destruction… that was her choice, too.

But it was her wedding day, and just for this moment, she allowed herself to look with new, fresh eyes at what the future would become. Niflheim was gone, the war ended. King Regis was still the king of Lucis, her brother would get to choose his own destiny, and Noctis… Noctis would live.

“May I ask for this dance?”

Luna turned to the young man, the one whose face spoke of promises that Luna had once been so jealous of, but now… it filled her heart with a fondness that she could not deny. She did not want to deny.

“Of course, dear Ignis.”

She accepted his outstretched hand, hot against the balmy night, and allowed the young man to pull her close enough for her to place her hand on his shoulder. “I would imagine it was you who taught Noctis how?”

He smiled. “I did my best. My apologies for any aching toes—“

“Oh, he isn’t quite that terrible. You should have seen me the first time I danced. I don't believe my brother’s feet ever really recovered.” Luna waited for the song to pick up before beginning to sway to the music. It wasn’t quite a waltz, but it was still dancing. “I am sure you were an excellent tutor… in many things.”

She did pick up on the faint redness creeping up the back of the man’s neck. “Your Majesty—“

“None of that, now. You may call me Luna, dear Ignis. It is only fair that the young man who has stolen Noctis’s heart greets me as such,” Luna murmured. “And if you are to wed my dear Noctis, then you will have no choice but to address me as such.”

Yes, right there—the pink ring of his ears and the quick tempo of his pulse. Luna could see why Noctis was so fond of his dearest advisor… He was quite handsome, though different in the way Nyx was. While Nyx was corded muscle and strong arms, Ignis was slim and almost terrifyingly poised. She could see the strength where some would imagine it as nothing but gangliness.

“I can almost hear the gears in your head turning.” Luna laughed and readjusted her arm. “I assure you, there is nothing more that I want than for Noctis to be happy—to be truly happy.”

“Noctis… he told me. Last night, he told me some of…”

Luna could see it in his eyes. “Do not mourn for him. I have mourned enough for the both of us. I have walked across fire for him, for the both of us, so that the night will not grow dark. We both shall get our happy endings.”

Ignis’s foot nearly caught on the ground, but Luna tightened her arms. She would not let him fall.

“My apologies.”

“There is nothing to apologize for, Ignis.” Luna stared into the young man’s eyes. She could see it within his green eyes—she could see the fire burning in him, the magic that he held in the palms of his hands. She could see that passion, that blazing resolve…

“You remind me of someone,” Luna managed to say after a moment. She could see it in his cheeks, in his jaw. Even the little beauty marks dotted across his cheeks like stars.

But it was mostly in his eyes.

“Would it be improper to ask whom?”

Luna swallowed. “Only a little.” It took a moment and a quick turn to compose herself, but she managed. She paused for only a moment before asking the question that had been on her mind since her first time in the Citadel. She had seen their soft looks, their chaste touches… She had to know. “Ignis…what would you do to keep Noctis safe?”

There wasn’t even a beat, not even a pause. “Anything.”

“It is good to know my dearest friend will be safe. I trust you, Ignis.”

Do not make me regret it.

They danced for a few more moments before the song ended, and Luna could hear the clinking of shoes on the pavement near her, an unevenness to the sound that made Luna smile.

“Iggy, you can’t hog the bride all night.”

“Noctis, you are as impatient as always,” Luna laughed and gave a slight curtsy to Ignis as he bowed low, kissing her knuckles. “Is this your attempt to ask me to dance with you?”

Noctis shrugged one shoulder. She could see Nyx behind him, barely holding in a smile. “I was gunna go dance with my boyfriend. I think I stepped on your toes enough tonight. But, uh… I think that someone else wants to dance with you.”

Luna almost frowned before she felt soft leather on her shoulder. Her voice caught in her throat, her breath knocked from her lungs.

“Special delivery. Just for you—just for tonight. I’m supposed to help bring you and the Prince back to Lucis tomorrow, but…. I got to come early.”

Luna could feel the tears dotting her eyes as the hand slowly turned her around. Passion and fire, just like Ignis. Burning hot skin and memories of feeling human for the first time in…

“Crowe?”

Crowe smirked. “The one and only. In the flesh.” The smirk transformed into a small smile, barely there but Luna could see it, could feel it. “I guess it’s good I got here now, after the wedding. I suck at weddings. I get all teary-eyed and girly and really, no one wants to see that…”

“You’re here,” Luna managed, reaching out to touch her friend’s face, to run her fingers across the silver scars that had bound their souls together in ways that few would ever understand. And it had been Crowe, had been the young mage with wild hair and magic like fire in the palms of her hands, who had allowed her to heal. “You’re here.”

Crowe nodded and pulled Luna in close for a hug, one that made Luna let out a small, broken sob. “Oh, man. I guess you’re not good at weddings either. Luna, you can't cry. You’re the bride, and if you start crying then I’ll start crying…”

Luna tried to control it, but the tears continued, unabated.

“Wait… before you cry anymore… I brought something for you. King Regis, he said he wanted you to have it. He would have come, but…”

It was far too dangerous, even with the war at its end, for Lucis to be without its king. Though the Wall was gone, there was still Ardyn Izunia to deal with…

Crowe rustled against her, reaching into her pocket. In her hand was a small golden comb. A diamond sparkled in the moonlight, offset by many smaller stones. On the sides was ivy, the kind that grew beneath the Sylleblossoms.

“He said it was Queen Aulea’s.” Crowe looked a little worried for a second but shrugged her shoulders. “He said I was supposed to give it to you.”

Luna turned to Noctis. “I can't take this. It was your mother’s. It was meant for you.”

Noctis only shook his head. “I dunno. I don't think Iggy would look very good with it. What do you think?”

Ignis looked down at the golden comb. “Wouldn’t fit my complexion.”

Luna let out an exasperated laugh. “Don’t tease.”

“I would never dare to tease the Queen of Tenebrae. Gold simply isn’t suited for me. I am more of a white gold type of man.”

Both Nyx and Noctis didn’t even bother to hide their snorts.

“Look…. Luna,” Noctis finally said after a moment. She could see the red splotches on his cheeks, though they were beginning to fade. “My father… I think he always thought you would be marrying me. Even I thought you’d marry me… but you didn’t, and that doesn’t make you any less family. And I’m…” Luna looked down to see Noctis’s fingers twined with Ignis’s. “I’m not going to be marrying a beautiful queen who can wear it. Luna, you’re my family and I want you to have it. My mom would have wanted you to have it, too.”

Luna looked back down at the hair comb before nodding her head. “All right, then.”

Luna held her breath as Crowe slipped the comb between her Sylleblossom crown.

“Long live the queen,” Crowe whispered against the shell of her ear before gently turning her toward Nyx.

Nyx held out his hand and she reached forward with the one with his ring, the little piece of him that would always be with her.

Luna couldn’t say for certain what it was, but there was a gust of wind from the west and the springtime breeze turned cold. Just for a moment, just a moment that passed before she even knew it was there, her breath turned sharp and the dewdrops on the canopy of leaves above turned hard.

And for that brief time, in the blink of an eye, the treetops above snowed.

“Thank you,” Luna whispered against the icy pendant on Nyx’s neck. She allowed her head to rest on his shoulder, reaching up to press her finger against it. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were there.

An icy kiss pressed against her cheek, and Luna closed her eyes, though she did not bow her neck. She never would. 

She was a queen.