▮▪ ─── ‖ ♌ ♞ ⚔ ‖ ◾◈
"C’mon. Don’t look at me that way."
He admonished, taking another step forward with his blade by his side and earth beneath his feet began to quiver. Noel honestly didn’t know where the hell he was. One moment he was staring at the oracle drive next moment he was here in this odd dark city. Was he dreaming?
”I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not working for Niflheim army…who are you?” He inquire for the other’s name, trying to get some info, maybe just maybe he’ll get answers on clue where he was or what the hell was going on here.
❛Twas not oft that Noctis could bear witness to viewing his kingdom & its proximity in its entirety perchance. The metal structure of buildings stood tall & regal—nigh intimidating alongst a myriad of s h i m m e r i n g lights that radiated an ethereal hue, painting an impeccable [ picturesque ] scenery of grandeur. Although he would take advantage of the moment that was permitted to admire what was offered, there was an extrinsic presence that admittedly set him on edge before him. A-t-r-a-m-e-n-t-o-u-s rivers of unruly tendrils swept in a brushing motion against the prince’s physiognomy as the mien upon his countenance was set in a semblance of subtle moue. The lateral movement gave [ allowance ] for his right appendage to rise a c c l i v i t o u s, elevating itself before him as his gaze was cast upon his [ blade ], feeling the proverbial sensation of his hilt that subconsciously hummed within his grasp.
Forthwith, upon perceiving the belaboring of footfalls heading to whence he stood with his audibility, phosphorous a-z-u-r-e gems flickered & narrowed, fixating his gaze upon the male with naught but [ skepticism ] whilst the aforementioned appendage was exserted f o r t h w a r d, directing the pointed tip of his falchion at the anterior passage of his throat in an expeditious manner. Ignoring the query that was spoken
( truly, the other was not in any position to express inquiries in this situation as he was the one whom was [ trespassing ] upon his demesne, after all ), twin dark brows furrowed, conveying his distrustful nature afore a command departed from his lips.
❝I'd recommend for you to not take another [ step ] unless you would prefer to deal with the r e p e r c u s s i o n s of your actions. State your name & whom you [ swear ] to, if not for Niflheim as you have claimed.❞
— Dexter Morgan
A hint of curiosity swam within phosphorescent m-a-z-a-r-i-n-e optics, scrutinizing the extrinsic intricacies of the architecture adorning the [ edifice ] around him whilst thinly-shaped brows lowered, furrowing in a junction & cogitating upon the purpose behind him being present. Nay, in all actuality, he was well aware as to why his presence was required, especially considering that he was a [ royal ] figure but personally, he would have thought that his sire would have made a better candidate than he himself. Naked extremities performed c i r q u e s around the rim of the flute glass whilst he was lost within a lapse of [ introspection ], ignoring the presence in which manifested within the confines of the room hitherto sensing the being adjacent from whence he stood, ergo, the prince spook with f l u i d i t y, immersing in his mother tongue as he did not understand the common language that was spoken in the area & was uncertain if the individual possessed [ knowledge ] of the aforementioned language in which he grew up speaking in.
With ease would the corner of full lips curl in shadow of amusement, cheek being placed within the waiting space of an empty palm, for in such lax mannerisms would she find the want to play upon a more coy nature. A shrug, quick and small before the younger would speak.
“Tis a lovely shade upon your cheeks, I’ll admit.“
Expelling an exiguous note of [ exasperation ], the raven-haired male rotated his head in a longitudinal direction upon the cognizance that she espied his flustered state & to his chagrin, the blush that dusted his a-l-a-b-a-s-t-r-i-n-e flesh merely darkened to the point of being conspicuous to the unseeing eyne. Forsooth, he was uncertain as to why he allowed such commentary to affect him so, but he did not expect for her of all people to speak in an [ unabashed ] manner.
❝You are being a tease. Are you done having your fun yet?❞
“——— your staring is distracting, Noctis.“
❝Well I—-y-you are mistaken. I wasn’t staring.❞
Inwardly wincing at the stammer he subconsciously relinquished, the prince retained a proud disposition despite the [ apples ] of his cheeks & the tips of his ears suffusing into a hue of c-a-r-m-i-n-e.
Ah, but the king did know of the prince’s dislike for the green soup. Quite honestly, Regis was not very fond of the soup himself. The exact moment that the dish made its first appearance at the dinner table was still very clear to him. It was years ago, when Noctis was only a mere toddler—and when the queen—no, his Queen was still alive.
Hearing it to be very nutritious and easy to eat, Lady Caelum had personally requested for the chef to cook a small pot for dinner. It would serve as their appetizer; while for little Noctis, it would be his meal. And as soon as those bowls were set down, the Queen was oh so anxious for him and Noctis to try it out first. He was the first to pick up a spoonful, in which Noctis saw and followed suit. Father and son ended up tasting the soup at the same time. And even their reaction that followed mirrored one another's.
Both father and child's face scrunched as the taste spread across their tongues. Regis swallowed hard and had to quickly force water down his throat. Noctis dropped his spoon and shoved his bowl of soup away. Both of them proceeded to then stick out their green-dyed tongues. Oh his poor wife, who had been so excited just a moment ago, now dropped her shoulders and sighed disappointedly. But how they all laughed after, realizing how unroyal and silly they had just acted.
T’was a moment he never forgot. Neither did he wish to—hence, why the pea soup continued to make occasional returns to the table even after the passing of his wife.
His gaze cast from the bowl of soup to the face of his son, now grown and no longer a toddler nor child. There was a single twitch of his fingers upon hearing the word ‘war’. September 15th was to be the day that Niflheim and Lucis came together—for the sake of peace.
"—There will be no war here. What brings you to even think so?” he questioned, with a hardened tone.
Slowly, albeit surely did crystallized pools of c-e-l-e-s-t-i-n-e drifted athwart to fixate its gaze upon his [ sire ], sensing by the tonality of his voice that mayhaps he had overstepped his boundaries due to broaching a subject that he, by all rights, should be informed about as Lucis was his [ home ] just as any other whom was born upon its soil. Aye—-the prince was cognizant of what he was doing but the quiescent manner in which the other was doing to avoid the impending discussion did not sit well with him, hence why he had decided to persist in speaking.
❝—You know why.❞
❛You know just as much as I do The blood that was shed?
that this is not a true alliance. No, Father… There will be
Did you forget the lives that were [ war ] upon us & it will be much
lost? sooner than you think.❜
❝You know why.❞
& eftsoons, ❛twas was given in a form of an u t t e r a n c e, reiterating the statement whilst azure gems was unrelenting in its [ scrutiny ], frowning quite profoundly from the corners of his lips downturning that conveyed his disapproval concerning the matter at hand. Truly, he would have never presumed for the King of [ Lucis ] to be quite foolish in his line of thinking—-he trusted him, but to say that no war will ensue betwixt Lucis & Niflheim…
❝I do not trust them. It t r e m b l e s .❞
Lowering twin optics in tandem to elongated digits curling around the argentine spoon that dipped into the atrocious, s-m-a-r-a-g-d-i-n-e soup, he needed naught to clarify on what he was alluding to for His Majesty was blessen as he was by the crystal and imbued within its [ powering ] e m b r a c e. He could fall under a pretense of ignorance, not comprehending the weight of the matter but he cannot—-will not partake in such [ japery ] when his home & people were at stake.
❝—-What are you doing?❞
& ❛twas only that the prince was roused from his [ slumber ], awakened by the raucous tonality of [ mellifluous ] silk that an appendage exserted itself forthward, c u r l i n g elongated digits around a slender wrist in which he now held within his grasp whilst a query was expressed. Somnolence was cast upon him, clouds seeping into glassy pools of c-e-l-e-s-t-i-n-e afore a veil of ebony lashes lowered to fan over the [ apples ] of his cheeks & peach-tinged tiers prescinded whilst a s u s p i r a t i o n was absconding eftsoons for the sake of allowing a requisition to make itself present.
❝Go to [ bed ], it’s getting late…❞
Tentatively, p-a-l-l-i-d extremities slid athwart the surface of enwrapped confections, encompassing the edges thereafter in cadence to [ contemplativeness ] being etched ❛pon his brow. There was curiosity conflated with skepticism swimming within darkening oceans forthwith the moment his gaze landed upon the crimson-clad figure, pondering upon the reasoning behind his bestowal afore a whisper, a soft
u t t e r a n c e of a ❛thank you❜ departed from his lips.
" and that’s why i’m here. how do you feel about a
bottle of whiskey? maybe three? you’ve got a whole army of these in the kitchen. “
so she might have been overly casual with the whole bursting into the guy’s room at god - knows what - time - it - is - now, but at the very least, the thief had brought reparations as she strides wistfully into the shadow of his room ( unknown to him of her vengeful tact; she would rather keep deathly silent of it now and forevermore ). however sick he happened to be, the woman believed that laughter was always the best medicine, and what way to quell the pinnacle of utter solemnity than with alcohol.
❝Drinking whiskey while I am sick?❞
Certes, he could not help but to arch a brow at the proposition that was given, bemusement c o a l e s c e d with amusement evinced upon the mien of his physiognomy whilst m-a-z-a-r-i-n-e gems bestowed its gaze unto the female; cognizant was he that he should imbued with [ choler ] due to the audacious manner of her intruding upon his private quarters—-his privacy without an iota of his consent, but his interest was piqued, finding himself far more engrossed with the extrinsic idea of becoming [ inebriated ] whilst being plagued with an illness in lieu of brandishing & unleashing the acerbity of his tongue upon her.
It would seem that she was quite [ auspicious ] for avoiding the latter as the Lady Fortuna was s m i l i n g down upon her, at least for the time being that was.
❝You are being awfully nice for being imprisoned here. Tell me, are you being [ genuine ] in your offering or do you have any…. ulterior motives in mind? You confuse me with your [ antics ].❞