week 3; comfort

[elemancy]

[it's frustrating. it's upsetting.

this is definitely not how this was supposed to go. one death a week (two, with execution) was bad enough, but this? three dead in one day, plus the others that had been found earlier in the week. not to mention... a culprit, or whoever it is that ends up being the scapegoat.

he probably shouldn't think of that yet.

but it's on noct's mind as he enters the hotel—and he freezes in the doorway upon seeing xion there, looking as if she's in a hurry to leave. but still—he...

he should say something, right? she might want to be left alone, because he sure as hell knows he needed alone time more than once after losing people, but still.]

Xion...

[well. he tried, but he's not sure what to say just yet.]

Comments

[ceded]

How...

[ She starts, and then immediately cuts herself off, swallowing. It's such a cruel thing to ask, she thinks. But at the same time, she doesn't know. She doesn't know how to do any of this. She never felt things like this back home. Of course, back home, she never actually watched a friend die, much less had to see their mutilated corpse. Nobodies just don't ... die like that. They fade away. It's still awful, but somehow less visceral.

Xion swallows, and when she continues, her voice is thick. ]

How did you do it? How did you ... keep moving?

[ A family is an alien concept to her. But love is not. And losing someone you love is a pain that she knows Noctis uniquely understands. ]

[elemancy]

...Not sure I have an answer for it. Because... I didn't have a choice, I guess.

[but it seems like grieving is new to her. he gets it—not everyone has had the experiences he'd had. he's been seeing an experiencing loss like this for so much of his life, thanks to the efforts of niflheim. the last few had been possibly the worst, but...

he still knew how to grieve, at least.]

It's hard. There's... not a day I don't think about them. That I don't... wish I could've saved them.

[luna, especially. she was right there. it wasn't like with his dad, or jared, where he wasn't even there even if he wanted to be. with luna—she'd given everything to make sure he could do what needed to be done, and her life was the price somehow, unfairly.]

I think I was a zombie for a long time. I got lucky... lucky to have friends to remind me that I couldn't wallow forever. We're still alive. We're alive, and we have things we need to do.

So we have to find a way to pick up our heads and keep fighting. If we don't... they win. That's what they want, the people who will kill the ones who never deserved it. Not just here. Anywhere that happens.

[it's something like that. he's not really sure how to put it into words.]

But picking it up doesn't mean ignoring that it hurts. You do that, you'll hurt other people too. A lot.

[that he knows for sure. he caused so much pain by being selfish and keeping it all in, by not facing things properly and trying to deal with them on his own. he moped instead of doing anything helpful at a time when they needed him until things got explosive—a feeling that's still very raw to him.]

[ceded]

[ By the end, there are tears sliding down her face. Xion doesn't seem to realize it herself until she snaps out of her thoughts and pulls in a sharp, soft gasp, touching her face with her free hand.

At which point her expression twists into something tortured, full of grief, and she has to stop walking. ]

We're alive, [ she whispers, and the words might hurt more than anything she's ever said. ]

We have to stop them, [ she says, more strongly now, though her voice wavers with tears. ] There's no way ... we can let them win. We can't!

[ She didn't want this. She chokes on her tears and rubs at her face and she didn't want this. But now that she's started it's like she can't stop, the horror of the day slamming into her all over again. ]

Promise me you'll live, [ she abruptly whispers, not looking at him. ] I don't know what I'd do if we lost you too.

[elemancy]

[this is the part he's bad at—but the part he's been trying to steel himself for, because noctis knows all too well that she needs the support.

so when she stops, noct shifts in front of her. and just like he'd done for iris so many years ago when she was lost, sad and scared after wandering off—he offers his support in the way he knows he can. it's somewhat brotherly, but comforting in the way he gives her a not-quite hug; one hand rests on her shoulder, the other atop her head.

let it out, xion.]

You're fooling yourself if you think I'm gonna die that easy. I got a whole kingdom counting on me, remember? [it's a gentle chide, one there to give a sense of normalcy where none truly exists—because she needs it right now.

they both do, but this isn't about him, and this is all he can really do for her, isn't it?]

We're not gonna let them win. We'll beat them at their sick game, no matter what. [she shouldn't worry about that part, because noctis is resolved to that much.

he can't let them win.

that's just not something he can allow, even if the price for that is steep.]

[ceded]

[ With the high-pitched whine that comes with the start of tears, she leans into his grip and fists her free hand tightly in his shirt. She feels so ill and hollowed out, like someone reached right into her core and ripped out all her stuffing, leaving her empty and caving in on herself.

His little joke makes her shoulders jump, though it's genuinely hard to say if it's a laugh or silent sob. Either way she nods quickly against him, just ... crying. This is something she's already done today, though maybe not like this. She was still trying to hold back earlier, to keep herself reined in. But she's genuinely trying to take his advice, because as much as she wants to resist, she can feel somewhere that he might be right. Hesitating and holding back hasn't exactly served her well in the past.

Her arm wraps around him to grasp at the back of his shirt instead and she just cries and cries. It's not loud or even very hard. She's tired. It's just ... grieving, which she's had to learn how to do on the fly in this horrible place.

Whenever it is she manages to calm down enough to speak, even if she hasn't quite stopped crying, she'll pull back just enough to be audible instead of all muffled against his shirt, though she doesn't look up at him. ]

When you get home, Noctis ... I think you'll be an amazing king some day.

[elemancy]

[it's clear enough how much xion's needed this—and from this alone, he can see just how much worse it would have been without his urging for her to let it out now.

of course, he's not the most well-equipped for this, and it's been a long time since he's even had to be someone's emotional support in this manner. it's difficult when he's struggling too, but... this is what he has to do, isn't it? if he's going to be a good king, he needs to be able to support and understand people's struggles...

and help to guide them through trying times.

it feels like a test of ability, and he's without a clue if he can even pass it.

but that's why he remains this way, quiet and unmoving as xion cries it all out. he gets it. he understands the pain of loss, he's not going to try and rush her through this process. and even when she pulls away, however slight—his hand remains atop her head, ruffling gently at the hairs and letting out a bit of a noncommittal sound at her words.]

Don't know if I can ever live up to my dad. But... I'm gonna do my best.

[he's not really sure consoling teenage girls is any sort of metric for this, but he won't argue it, it's not the time for that at all.]