Chapter Text
To say Noctis was “lounged” on the couch of his apartment was a bit of an overstatement. He wasn’t comfortable. The black t-shirt he wore was stained with a small damp patch of sweat, hair mostly stuck to his forehead while a few loose bristles blew in the breeze coming from the window. He refused to allow his limbs to touch one another; the heat of his skin would surely have left red patches.
Ping.
His head lifted for a moment for him to stare at his phone. The screen had turned on, with a text from Gladio: Heatwave killed training room power. No airconditioning, no training.
It tempted part of him to reply with a small quip about how his Shield was technically meant to operate in all temperatures, including a heatwave, but Gladio was being uncharacteristically lenient. Why risk the day off?
His head thumped back down to the couch.
A heat wave. In Insomnia, during the holidays.
Somebody royally pissed off Shiva…
Probably himself, the prince mused idly.
“Your Highness?”
Definitely himself.
The raven-haired teen lifted his head once more with a sigh to peer over to the opening of the room. His front door clicked shut, having allowed his advisor entry.
“Good heavens,” Ignis muttered as he glanced around the living room. There was nothing for him to critique—the place was spotless, save Noct’s school tie hanging from the back of a chair. And the pitcher of water on the coffee table. A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of Ignis’ cheek. “What happened to your cooler?”
“Power’s out.”
“As is most of Insomnia, evidently,” he dropped onto the space at the end of the couch, removing his jacket. He then stole the pitcher of water and Noct’s cup, glancing over it with a shrug before pouring himself a full serve.
“Happy holidays,” Noctis drawled. “So much for snow...”
Prompto would be devastated.
“His Majesty asked me to bring you back to the Citadel,” Ignis said after chugging down the water.
Noctis rolled his eyes—his father wasn’t even in Insomnia at present, away for important business in Gralea (with most of the Crownsguard). He probably didn't know the Citadel just lost their power. His order to Ignis was more likely meant to bring Noctis back into the Citadel so he’d inevitably socialise with the staff and not be isolated in his apartment. It had worried him that Noctis would be bitter about Regis not being home for the holidays—for the first time in Noct’s life, his dad wouldn’t be around.
But honestly... was Regis meant to do? Not go on the important trip to Gralea? Their country might be boiling under the sun, but it wasn’t actively burning; there were no dire circumstances tying Regis to Insomnia right now. And Noctis was old enough to live on his own—therefore, old enough to handle one holiday season alone.
Besides, he had Gladio and Iris to keep him company. With Regis gone with most of the Kingsglaive, so too was Clarus. Mrs Amicitia was always away over the holidays as well.
Noctis’ head rolled to the side, his eyes glowering at Ignis. “Gladio already texted me. You guys have no power, either.”
“So I’ve been told. But Iris has found some relief in the kitchen cool room-”
Noct launched himself off the couch, snagging his phone off the couch pillow. The mention of an active cool room had renewed the energy the heat had sapped. He marched towards his front door. “C’mon, Specs. I’m driving.”
Ignis sighed, reluctantly removing himself from the couch and following the prince.
The car’s aircon was pushed past its usual level of exertion in this absurd temperature. Noctis had directed the airflow to his chest, the breeze grazing past his fingers on the wheel. Why hadn’t he thought about this earlier?
His phone chimed. Ignis pulled it out of the cupholder, the screen reflecting off his glasses. “A message from Prompto.”
Noct frowned. “Prompto? He’s meant to be out of town.”
“He wants to know if you’re free.”
“Call him.”
The car speakers erupted with a dial tone. It rang twice before they heard their friend’s voice. “Hello?”
“I’m driving. What’s up?”
“Oh, uh… My folks were called away again...”
“Seriously? New year is tomorrow!”
“Work’s serious business. You know how it is.”
Boy, did he. “Well, guess you’re coming to New Year lunch with me, Iris, and Gladio.”
“And me,” Ignis interjected. Noct snapped him a surprised look, and he launched into a quick explanation while he removed his glasses to wipe them. “It’s a public holiday tomorrow. And with this heatwave and repeated imperial incursions, I’d rather not have to fly to Tenebrae.”
House Amicitia had a long tradition of hosting New Year luncheons. Despite Clarus having left with Regis, Gladio was adamant: they were holding lunch in the dining hall, no matter the temperature. Iris was positive she could find some useful fans.
But Ignis was never typically present for them, usually going to Tenebrae to meet with his extended family. Blue eyes narrowed, Noctis readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. His eyebrows pulled together briefly as he considered Ignis’ words.
“Make that me, Iris, Gladio and Iggy,” Noctis corrected.
“Oh. Awesome! I’ll be there!” said Prompto. “Hey, uh… did you want me to bring anything?”
“Your presence will be a gift all on its own.”
Prompto scoffed a laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Noct.”
“Will do.”
The call disconnected. The car fell back into its relative silence, leaving only Noct and Ignis—and the quiet hum of the Star of Lucis. Ignis replaced his glasses onto his nose, peering through the windscreen at the road ahead.
“The imperials have never stopped you from seeing your cousins before,” Noctis said slowly, glancing briefly at Ignis. “And Prompto’s parents just left the country—I don’t think the heat is grounding transports.”
His adviser said nothing. Noctis sighed.
“Ignis, you don’t... have to stay for me. I’m okay.”
Ignis hesitated for a moment, his eyes glancing up to Noct. “If you’ll permit me, Highness… I’d prefer to remain by your side.”
“You’d trade a rare occasion with your family for an awkward luncheon with Gladio, Prompto and Iris?”
“In all fairness, you are my family.”
By the time they pulled into the Crown garage, there was no need for the kitchen cool room. Cor had ordered the back-up generators activated. The Citadel was now functioning on its own power and cooling off well.
With his backpack slung over his shoulder, Noctis bid Ignis goodnight and retreated to his royal chambers. He felt surprised the door opened for him—he’d half expected it to be stiff from disuse, but it swung inward as if he’d used it this morning, beckoning him into the familiar comfort of home without so much as a squeak in the hinges.
Nothing had changed. Someone had even taken to watering the plant by the windowsill—Ignis, probably. Or maybe Regis. It had grown a little, thriving in the sun’s embrace. Noct dumped his bag onto a nearby chair, standing next to the potted plant and touching its leaves. He’d completely forgotten it’d existed.
“I hear choco-boy is coming for lunch tomorrow.”
The gravelly tone of his Shield startled him, a pulse of shock echoing through his nerves while his breath hitched. He snapped his gaze over to the door; Gladio stood bare-chested, leaning against the door frame.
“Yeah,” Noct breathed. “His folks are out of town again.”
“I’m glad you invited him.”
“I’m not gonna leave my best friend to spend the holidays alone, Gladio,” he grumbled. He opened his backpack to remove wrapped gifts, and an assortment of toiletries. “Did you know Ignis was staying?”
Gladio hummed. “Thought crossed my mind.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he wants to stay. And I don’t think it’s worth an argument.”
Noctis sighed. “I’m fine. He shouldn’t have to skip out on his own family to stick here with me.” Though his adviser’s words rattled around in his head, wholesome and warm whenever he thought of them. But realistically, being with Noctis took away any kind of connection Ignis had with his family at large.
His Shield cracked a smile, pushing away from the door frame to approach the prince. “I know that. Ignis knows that. Hell, Iris probably knows that, too. That’s not the point, though, Noct. Your dad might be away, but we’re not.”
“I get that,” he tossed his toothbrush onto his bed. “I just don’t want him to think I can’t handle myself.”
“Ha! We’re way past that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?”
But Gladio had already turned away, walking toward the door. “I’m on guard-duty, Your Highness,” he threw over his shoulder. “You need me, I’m right outside.”
Noct rolled his eyes at the precautionary Shield—there was irony in the need to stand guard at his Citadel quarters, yet not his apartment in town. “I appreciate that.”
“See you tomorrow, Princess. Lunch at midday,” Gladio waved, and he exited the room without another word.
“I think that’s plenty of fans, Iris.”
“Just… one… more…” she huffed, shoving the large black fan across the floor, power cord dragging behind it.
Ignis pushed his glasses up his nose. “Any more fans, and we may end up draining our power supply.”
“At least we’ll be cool?” Prompto offered.
“Not sure that’s how ‘power’ works...” Noctis smirked.
The four boys found themselves seated at a lunch table, a festive lunch of salads, casseroles and bread stuffs laid out waiting for them on a green tablecloth. The centrepiece held a bundle of holiday crackers surrounding a traditional gold orb Ignis was insistent upon bringing: it was a traditional item, significant only to a Lucis Caelum on the day of New Year. Part of Noctis dreaded the inevitability of soeeches.
Beside the orb sat Carbuncle, the small figure having been wiped over especially for the occasion. It was a small comfort, an attempt to fill the absence left by his father. Another object Ignis insisted he bring, but Noctis had no complaints about the small figurine.
Iris plugged in the fifth fan into the dining room power socket and thumped her hands onto her waist, proudly staring at her handiwork. The rush of air from the five miniature turbines was enough to send napkins off the table—Noctis caught one mid-air while Prompto dropped his plate on another, rescuing them from the floor. With a pleased sigh, Iris dropped into her seat next to Gladio.
“Well then,” Ignis glanced around the table. “Per the traditions of Tenebrae, and the customs of Lucis, these days mark the conclusion of M.E. 755. This is a time of gratitude, and love.”
Noctis sighed, leading Ignis to pause for a moment. King Regis typically lead these speeches, and no doubt he was with Clarus having this discussion right now. But it was a role that Noctis wasn’t quite ready to take on just yet.
Leave it to Ignis, the one all of those gathered perceived to be the most mature, to continue the tradition Noctis was otherwise ready to let go of in favour of a simple lunch with his friends.
Ignis clasped his hands together and wringing them slightly. “We are gathered in the absence of our loved ones. And in their absence, I am grateful we have each other. This is not an easy life we lead.” Prompto gave a quiet ‘hmph’, Gladio returned a smirk. Ignis continued, “But despite the ups and downs… I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Noctis’ eyes trailed up to Ignis. He’d forgone a trip to Tenebrae to be with his extended family in favour of remaining here, with them. For a cold lunch on a hot day with a fan behind each chair occupied by a body.
“Usually dad is the one that preps lunch, so,” Iris gave a shy, innocent grin before glancing over to her brother, elbowing him lightly. “It’s not the first time we’ve had New Year between ourselves—I doubt it’ll be the last. But I’m glad this family makes time for each other. I don’t think I’ve seen other siblings as close as we are. I’m proud of us.”
All eyes turned to Gladio, seated on Iris’ right. But he rose his glass and shook his head. “Iris covered it. We’re all here, breathing, and safe. That’s all I can ask for.”
Ignis sighed in disdain, but turned his gaze over to Prompto.
“So we’re just… talking about the stuff we’re thankful for?” the blond asked.
“Think of it like a recap of the decade,” Noctis explained. “It doesn’t have to be things you’re ‘thankful’ for, but if that’s what you want to say, you can.”
“And you guys do this every New Year?”
Gladio rose an eyebrow, but (unexpectedly) didn’t launch into an inquisition. “It’s a tradition of our royal houses. I thought we were gonna forego them this year, but…”
“Pardon me for upholding a moribund tradition,” Ignis drawled, a playful smirk on his face.
“You don’t have to-” But Prompto interrupted Noctis.
“No, it’s okay. This is nice! This… gives meaning to the day. You know, outside of just gift-giving,” he laughed. Re-adjusting himself in his seat, his eyebrows creased a little as he thought on his response. “Hmm. My life would be radically different if a certain dog hadn’t gotten lost and hurt one day, many years ago. My parents are one thing—I am so happy to be blessed with my mom and dad, who have sheltered and loved me since they adopted me. But I’ll always have them in my life. This right here, though,” he gestured to the table. “This is somethin’ else. I am honoured to stand—or, uh, sit—by your side. In the dining room of the freaking Crown Court of Lucis, as your friend. It means a lot.”
Noct bumped his shoulder into Promptos, his face donning a smile. The blond returned one to him, radiating a contagious joyful aura. It made him feel at ease, royal responsibilities far away and locked behind the door of Prompto.
“I guess it's me, then,” Noctis breathed, sitting up straighter. He reached out to pluck the golden orb off the centrepiece of the table, resting it in his palm as he stood from his chair. “Usually when my dad closes these with a profound speech about how proud he is of this kingdom and this family.”
“And Clarus would toast to it,” Gladio joked.
“Yeah,” the prince smirked, and gave a small shrug. There was a hesitation in his voice as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. “I don’t have the… finesse my dad has. But I want to tell you all that I’m...” he hesitated again, choking on the awkward (and frankly, corny) words. “It means a lot to me that you’re here for New Year. We probably could've spent the day on our own, doing our own thing. But you're here.”
With a settled effort, Noctis mustered a small wisp of magic to the orb in his hand. A slight glow permeated its shell, a gentle light reflecting onto his palm. “The challenges we face in M.E. 756… I know we’ll overcome them together.”
“Undoubtedly,” added Ignis.
“House Amicitia is forever at your side.” stated Iris, and Gladio raised his glass.
With a warmth in his chest, Noctis replaced the orb back onto the table centrepiece. The spoken traditional thing Regis had pushed so much each New Year was concluded. Doing this made almost as if Regis was here. Somewhere in Gralea, Regis Lucis Caelum felt pride for his son and his friends.
Before he could take his seat, Prompto ambushed him, bare arms tightly wrapping around his shoulders. “No matter what,” he affirmed, digging his chin into Noct’s shoulder. The prince found himself releasing tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, reciprocating the hug.
Behind them, Gladio grumbled, the Shield kicking back his chair to approach the two boys and squashing them against his chest in a bear hug. “I can’t not be involved in this.”
The boys laughed, Noctis brushing away Gladio’s attempts to ruffle his hair.
“Alright, alright,” he said, nudging his way out of the group hug. “C’mon, we’ve got food here waiting for us.”