[ The knock at the door comes but Noctis is rereading those messages once, twice, taking a few seconds longer before actually dragging himself up to answer it. Of course it's Markus, and if anything could make him feel stupider about potentially oversharing his problems it's the fact that he's actually armed with pillows. ]
Hey... I didn't mean to make you hunt those down or anything; I'm not that lazy.
... thanks. [ And not for the pillows. ] It's just--
[Of course he's armed with pillows. Markus only replies after he steps in, closing the space between the door and the bedside, and offering one of them to Noctis.]
You're welcome. [He knows it's not just the pillows, he knows the thanks is for something else harder to enunciate, and Markus accepts it all the same.]
Settling in okay in here?
[He'll continue the conversation if Noctis is willing, but he might as well see if the other's doing all right in his room.]
[ He takes the proffered pillow with his good hand, unable to resist checking the quality of it by flattening it against his stomach and giving it a little pat. Not bad. ]
Ah, yeah... I mean it's a lot better than sleeping outside. [ ... did that sound rude? ] And the safehouse. [ Better. ]
[The second pillow is gently tossed to him, landing harmlessly next to Noctis’ hip. At the comment, he glances around the room in an idle, assessing sort of way.]
Yes. There hasn’t been much time to accrue very many personal objects.
[Beyond the basic furnishings, Markus has lived here for less than a month. It might not be as spartan as Connor’s room (at least Markus does have a painting of the river that cuts through the city on one wall, and a weird little spindly lamp that can be twisted in all sorts of directions on the corner of a desk — a hint of eccentricity that doesn’t really show anywhere else quite yet) but it it’s very tidy because it isn’t difficult to keep it that way.
That, and Markus is a rather neat individual in general.]
But I’m also used to keeping things tidy. Just habit, in some ways.
Yeah, I guess that makes sense... But even then there's not really any trash in here or anything. My-- well, Ignis, the guy I told you about, he used to come over to my apartment and give me a hard time. It was always a wreck...
[ Which is a far fonder memory now than it was then, and as he drops fully onto the bed again he finds himself thinking back. ]
... hey...
If you can forget most of that stuff I said, I'd appreciate it. I shouldn't have brought it up.
[Markus finds something sad in the resignation he hears in those words; or maybe it’s the way Noctis has slumped back into the bed, mind caught in what he can only assume is memory.]
Noctis.
[The desk isn’t really all that far from the bed, a comfortable distance for conversation when Markus decides to sit casually on its surface, crossing his arms loosely across his chest.]
What good will that do you? Keeping this all to yourself.
[ Markus chooses to make himself a little more comfortable which tells Noctis he isn't getting away with that request so easily, picking at a loose thread in that pillowcase before he forces his hand to flatten over it. ]
Ahh... I dunno what good it'll do me. That's not the point.
It's something he shared with me... that's all. And I shouldn't be talking about him behind his back before I know what's going on. That's wrong.
[It’s fair reasoning, but Markus isn’t sure it’s quite satisfying enough to let it go just yet. There’s a line between this being any of his business and Noctis’, and while he’s careful to not careen himself over it, it feels strange leaving him alone to stew in his uncertainty.]
There’s a difference between talking ill about someone, versus seeking advice or consolation.
[A beat.]
I won’t force you to talk about it, of course. Especially if you think there’s nothing more to be said. But you can be open with me; I can keep things just between us.
[ He pitches back suddenly, lying flat on the mattress with legs hanging over the side, a quiet sigh punctuating the little deflation. ]
You feel responsible for Connor, right? Sometimes... it's not the same, but I have to look out for him. Now I can't help him because I'm part of the problem. So...
All I'm doing is spreading this shit around. Feels like I should be a little better than this by now.
[A muscle works in his jaw, watching as Noctis' legs swing over the side of the mattress. Taking his words into account, feeling them run a strange parallel with himself -- especially after recent events, having harmed the person he was supposed to protect in a fit of anger.
Markus shakes his head, eyes settling on some nondescript part of the wall just beyond the bed, since he can't catch Noctis' gaze.]
And what standards are you holding yourself to, exactly? Don't say you can't help him. I know you're the one feeling bad about this, Noctis, but you have to be fair to yourself, too. You're still willing to communicate, still willing to find out his side of the story.
It's like I said, give it some time. Don't write yourself off so quickly.
[ He still doesn't look at him, can't, half-lidded eyes just pointed upward at a poorly spackled ceiling. Being here is like losing momentum. Trying to hold onto it hadn't been impossible, but the introduction of a fractured timeline and a visibly disturbed friend is like a giant hurdle that's caught him. Now he's feeling tired, again. ]
I'm... holding myself to the standard that I have to. You get it.
I'm gonna' give it time. I can't dwell on what's in the past forever; that's the advice I gave you too. But it doesn't really apply to the future, or the present. Geeze... I don't know what the hell I'm doing if I say I'm gonna' protect people and I still can't do it.
[That’s the issue, isn’t it? Holding steadfast to the idea of protecting others, trying one’s hardest to do everything to make it possible — he knows it’s like a sword hanging over one’s head. And to be met with failure feels utterly gutting.]
[ It's so far from being good enough. It's so far. ] But every time I slip up-- I keep losing people. Can't blame anyone else anymore, and now he's going through this shit?
Doesn't even matter for that part if I intentionally hurt him or not: I'm the reason he was in a position for it to happen at all. It's on me. [ His head turns to the side with a click of his tongue, warm cheek against cool bedding, as he wills himself to calm back down. ]
... I don't know. I guess I'd try to change the future.
[Every word spoken is like a stone weighing on Markus’ own chest. Too many parallels, all of it wrought from heavy responsibility, so much that Noctis might as well be talking about himself. Markus adjusts a foot, shifting his weight slightly on the desk. Doesn’t say anything at first — doesn’t have to. He understands.
Finally:]
…In a way, some of us have been given that opportunity here. To know the future, and to consider how to adjust our actions accordingly. Maybe it’s… good that you’re finding out about this now, rather than later.
[Mind flitting to his conversation with Connor in the hospital, he can’t help the way a hand comes up to rub briefly at the bridge of his nose, then dropping it back down.]
Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?
... Kinda' thought you were going to tell me that changing the timeline is dangerous or something. [ Little does he know that his timeline is already one of the worst ones; maybe it could use some changing.
Noctis braces his good hand against the mattress, suddenly, a quiet grunt accompanying his push to get himself back upright. It takes a moment or two longer after that before he's willing to lift his head, meeting that heterochromic gaze with his own, and it's clear that the faint smile on his features is forced but it's a step in the right direction. ]
You already brought me pillows, so... You did okay, I guess.
Just 'okay'- [He says with the expected crimping of a smile that the comment deserves.] I guess I'll take it.
[But Markus doesn't say anything after that, taking a moment to consider his thoughts. How he wants to reply to the former remark, or if he wants to at all. But there's been a thread of openness with Noctis that he can't ignore, and he sees no reason to sever it now.]
And you know, I'd be a hypocrite if I gave you a lecture about timelines. Not when I've already been spoiled on my own. So, no, I wouldn't tell you that. I'd suggest you take advantage of the opportunity for change; there's little worse than remaining stagnant.
Just okay, [ he confirms, even pairing it with a little upward flick of his chin. ]
... did you just say "spoiled"? Now I'm gonna' think about it like that... Normally I hate spoilers, but I guess if I can fix things that weren't supposed to happen then I'm just cleaning up the timeline, right? Retconning. [ How much sense does this make? It's easy to chatter about something silly in favor of keeping things serious and working himself up to the gratitude he absolutely owes Markus. Gratitude and... equal honesty, too. ]
Hey... can I tell you something? It's been bugging me.
Reconning, then. Why not, if you're aiming for a better narrative?
[Yes, he said spoiled, and yes, he can go with this little analogy. Anything to ease the tension in Noctis' body, to allow a little bit of levity in a subject that's hard to know how to approach.]
Yeah... Like if a comic is successful so they do a side comic, but it messes up the storyline for the main one. Then they have to retcon. [ Big news, he's a full-on otaku, not just a gamer. Film on this breaking story at 11.
Noctis hesitates now, however, wondering if he should precede this with an apology. ]
[Somehow, the slow realization of Noctis being an otaku is not surprising.
Almost not as surprising as what the young man admits to him next.]
…You’re not?
[Markus keeps anything knowing out of his tone. Allows Noctis to take his own time with this, to say what he’s comfortable with. But throughout their conversations, even throughout their text exchanges, there were pieces to the story that didn’t quite add up. The heavy responsibility weighted on his shoulders. The habits and preferences that don’t align to the strict lifestyle a royal guard should adhere to. The careful sidestep of more than a few of his questions. The naming conventions of his world, versus his chosen network ID.
He’s no detective, but Noctis has left a line of logic that’s easy enough to follow for anyone observant. Even so—]
[ Even a neutral reaction is somewhat telling and he resists the urge to groan his frustration with himself, instead back to avoiding eye contact as he indulges in a quiet exhale that's a little too close to a sigh. Fuck. Sure, he hasn't been as subtle as he's wanted to be. That hurts his argument that this was a precaution. Now? It's as if he lied for nothing.
Like he distrusted Markus for nothing. ]
You got pretty close to it before, so...
My full name's Noctis Lucis Caelum. Crown prince... or now, only living heir to the throne. Calling myself a king still doesn't feel right.
[Markus wouldn't view it like that. Noctis had been in a new world, supplanted into confusing circumstances, with no one familiar to anchor himself to. Being overcautious wasn’t surprising; Markus knows already knows of someone else who’s chosen a faux network ID, and he’s sure there’s likely more instances that he simply isn’t aware of. And being torn from a war, being such an important figure to his nation — a(n admittedly weak) fake name made sense to implement.
It’s confirmation, though, of what he had suspected. Markus stops pretending otherwise.]
After all you’ve told me… I think I already knew.
[Even so, only now does he look at the other as if cast under a new light. What the true weight of responsibility means to Noctis, back when they had spoken about pushing forward, about the advice his father had given him.]
And you’ve always had the look of someone shouldering more than what just a guard would. [Transient proof at best, but the kind that Markus is good at pinning down in others — reading what lies behind the immediately apparent.]
Ahh, if it's written on my face then I guess I'm not doing a good job of keeping it low-key... [ He smoothes back slowly growing hair but it's only too quick to fall back into his face, shielding young features from a mismatched gaze. ]
I always heard the opposite. That I didn't have the right bearing or I "spoke too freely"... there's a lot of that when you grow up a prince. It gets old really quick. [ Or, more recently, he's heard it from Cor, Gladio, Cid... ]
... sorry. That I didn't say something sooner, I mean. Everything else I said was real, so...
[A statement that comes swiftly. He'll have no guilt on Noctis' part for keeping it to himself, not if he can help ease it even by the smallest fraction. And Markus takes a moment to consider the criticisms brought against him, regarding the "bearing" of royalty.]
You don't, really, have much of a regal bearing. [Maybe not a helpful reinforcement against something that the other found "old", but he has a point he's making-] But that wasn't what made me think you were more than just a guard. The way you spoke in the hospital... about pushing forward, about responsibility.
[He can't catch Noctis' eyes like this, but the words might as well have the same effect, so purposefully spoken.]
[ Now the fingers of his good hand find his sling, picking at fabric idly as he listens. Not much regal bearing? Right... that much he knew. But then Markus continues, keeping him silent. ]
I still need to apologize. Sure, I had a good reason... but that doesn't take away the fact that you were honest with me and I wasn't honest back. That was pretty obviously wrong.
Look... You're a leader too, and you didn't have someone to show you how to get ready for something specifically like that like I did. So... if I think of more advice from him, I'll share it with you. Okay?
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Hey... I didn't mean to make you hunt those down or anything; I'm not that lazy.
... thanks. [ And not for the pillows. ] It's just--
I dunno. Thanks.
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You're welcome. [He knows it's not just the pillows, he knows the thanks is for something else harder to enunciate, and Markus accepts it all the same.]
Settling in okay in here?
[He'll continue the conversation if Noctis is willing, but he might as well see if the other's doing all right in his room.]
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Ah, yeah... I mean it's a lot better than sleeping outside. [ ... did that sound rude? ] And the safehouse. [ Better. ]
You're pretty tidy.
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Yes. There hasn’t been much time to accrue very many personal objects.
[Beyond the basic furnishings, Markus has lived here for less than a month. It might not be as spartan as Connor’s room (at least Markus does have a painting of the river that cuts through the city on one wall, and a weird little spindly lamp that can be twisted in all sorts of directions on the corner of a desk — a hint of eccentricity that doesn’t really show anywhere else quite yet) but it it’s very tidy because it isn’t difficult to keep it that way.
That, and Markus is a rather neat individual in general.]
But I’m also used to keeping things tidy. Just habit, in some ways.
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[ Which is a far fonder memory now than it was then, and as he drops fully onto the bed again he finds himself thinking back. ]
... hey...
If you can forget most of that stuff I said, I'd appreciate it. I shouldn't have brought it up.
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Noctis.
[The desk isn’t really all that far from the bed, a comfortable distance for conversation when Markus decides to sit casually on its surface, crossing his arms loosely across his chest.]
What good will that do you? Keeping this all to yourself.
[Ah, selective hypocrisy.]
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Ahh... I dunno what good it'll do me. That's not the point.
It's something he shared with me... that's all. And I shouldn't be talking about him behind his back before I know what's going on. That's wrong.
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There’s a difference between talking ill about someone, versus seeking advice or consolation.
[A beat.]
I won’t force you to talk about it, of course. Especially if you think there’s nothing more to be said. But you can be open with me; I can keep things just between us.
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[ He pitches back suddenly, lying flat on the mattress with legs hanging over the side, a quiet sigh punctuating the little deflation. ]
You feel responsible for Connor, right? Sometimes... it's not the same, but I have to look out for him. Now I can't help him because I'm part of the problem. So...
All I'm doing is spreading this shit around. Feels like I should be a little better than this by now.
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Markus shakes his head, eyes settling on some nondescript part of the wall just beyond the bed, since he can't catch Noctis' gaze.]
And what standards are you holding yourself to, exactly? Don't say you can't help him. I know you're the one feeling bad about this, Noctis, but you have to be fair to yourself, too. You're still willing to communicate, still willing to find out his side of the story.
It's like I said, give it some time. Don't write yourself off so quickly.
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I'm... holding myself to the standard that I have to. You get it.
I'm gonna' give it time. I can't dwell on what's in the past forever; that's the advice I gave you too. But it doesn't really apply to the future, or the present. Geeze... I don't know what the hell I'm doing if I say I'm gonna' protect people and I still can't do it.
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I guess… you keep trying.
[Said quietly, contemplative. Pushing forward isn’t always easy.]
…If you find out that you did hurt him, that it’s not a misconception, what will you do?
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[ It's so far from being good enough. It's so far. ] But every time I slip up-- I keep losing people. Can't blame anyone else anymore, and now he's going through this shit?
Doesn't even matter for that part if I intentionally hurt him or not: I'm the reason he was in a position for it to happen at all. It's on me. [ His head turns to the side with a click of his tongue, warm cheek against cool bedding, as he wills himself to calm back down. ]
... I don't know. I guess I'd try to change the future.
i saw that ak;jsf
Finally:]
…In a way, some of us have been given that opportunity here. To know the future, and to consider how to adjust our actions accordingly. Maybe it’s… good that you’re finding out about this now, rather than later.
[Mind flitting to his conversation with Connor in the hospital, he can’t help the way a hand comes up to rub briefly at the bridge of his nose, then dropping it back down.]
Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?
leave me...
Noctis braces his good hand against the mattress, suddenly, a quiet grunt accompanying his push to get himself back upright. It takes a moment or two longer after that before he's willing to lift his head, meeting that heterochromic gaze with his own, and it's clear that the faint smile on his features is forced but it's a step in the right direction. ]
You already brought me pillows, so... You did okay, I guess.
never
[But Markus doesn't say anything after that, taking a moment to consider his thoughts. How he wants to reply to the former remark, or if he wants to at all. But there's been a thread of openness with Noctis that he can't ignore, and he sees no reason to sever it now.]
And you know, I'd be a hypocrite if I gave you a lecture about timelines. Not when I've already been spoiled on my own. So, no, I wouldn't tell you that. I'd suggest you take advantage of the opportunity for change; there's little worse than remaining stagnant.
awww
... did you just say "spoiled"? Now I'm gonna' think about it like that... Normally I hate spoilers, but I guess if I can fix things that weren't supposed to happen then I'm just cleaning up the timeline, right? Retconning. [ How much sense does this make? It's easy to chatter about something silly in favor of keeping things serious and working himself up to the gratitude he absolutely owes Markus. Gratitude and... equal honesty, too. ]
Hey... can I tell you something? It's been bugging me.
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[Yes, he said spoiled, and yes, he can go with this little analogy. Anything to ease the tension in Noctis' body, to allow a little bit of levity in a subject that's hard to know how to approach.]
...But yes. Of course.
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Noctis hesitates now, however, wondering if he should precede this with an apology. ]
... I'm not a guard.
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Almost not as surprising as what the young man admits to him next.]
…You’re not?
[Markus keeps anything knowing out of his tone. Allows Noctis to take his own time with this, to say what he’s comfortable with. But throughout their conversations, even throughout their text exchanges, there were pieces to the story that didn’t quite add up. The heavy responsibility weighted on his shoulders. The habits and preferences that don’t align to the strict lifestyle a royal guard should adhere to. The careful sidestep of more than a few of his questions. The naming conventions of his world, versus his chosen network ID.
He’s no detective, but Noctis has left a line of logic that’s easy enough to follow for anyone observant. Even so—]
Then what was it you did?
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Like he distrusted Markus for nothing. ]
You got pretty close to it before, so...
My full name's Noctis Lucis Caelum. Crown prince... or now, only living heir to the throne. Calling myself a king still doesn't feel right.
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It’s confirmation, though, of what he had suspected. Markus stops pretending otherwise.]
After all you’ve told me… I think I already knew.
[Even so, only now does he look at the other as if cast under a new light. What the true weight of responsibility means to Noctis, back when they had spoken about pushing forward, about the advice his father had given him.]
And you’ve always had the look of someone shouldering more than what just a guard would. [Transient proof at best, but the kind that Markus is good at pinning down in others — reading what lies behind the immediately apparent.]
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I always heard the opposite. That I didn't have the right bearing or I "spoke too freely"... there's a lot of that when you grow up a prince. It gets old really quick. [ Or, more recently, he's heard it from Cor, Gladio, Cid... ]
... sorry. That I didn't say something sooner, I mean. Everything else I said was real, so...
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[A statement that comes swiftly. He'll have no guilt on Noctis' part for keeping it to himself, not if he can help ease it even by the smallest fraction. And Markus takes a moment to consider the criticisms brought against him, regarding the "bearing" of royalty.]
You don't, really, have much of a regal bearing. [Maybe not a helpful reinforcement against something that the other found "old", but he has a point he's making-] But that wasn't what made me think you were more than just a guard. The way you spoke in the hospital... about pushing forward, about responsibility.
[He can't catch Noctis' eyes like this, but the words might as well have the same effect, so purposefully spoken.]
You looked like a leader then.
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I still need to apologize. Sure, I had a good reason... but that doesn't take away the fact that you were honest with me and I wasn't honest back. That was pretty obviously wrong.
Look... You're a leader too, and you didn't have someone to show you how to get ready for something specifically like that like I did. So... if I think of more advice from him, I'll share it with you. Okay?
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