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?
[If Noctis is wont to press the apology, then Markus won't make a second attempt at denying it.]
Then I accept your apology. And I forgive you, in case you're still feeling guilty about it.
[Something somber settles in him at the offer, though. Feels like melancholy, or the ghost of it, entangled with an imperceptible gratitude.]
I'd like that. Following the advice and example of someone who- [His lips twist into something wry.] -was wiser than the both of us combined, I imagine.
Yeah... Thanks, Markus. [ ... ] I'm not saying I was feeling guilty, but maybe I was, a little. I dunno. When you said all that stuff about Carl... I mean, I wanted to tell you then. A little glad I didn't, though, since I'd had so many pain pills.
[ Wow, Noctis, stop talking. ]
He was always giving me lectures when I was a kid that I didn't get but now they make more sense.
[ His hesitation is visible though it isn't pained like it was before -- where does he start? What does he say about him, that would do him justice? ]
You really wanna' hear about that? I can, just... Are you seriously comfortable sitting there like that? You can sit on the bed too or we can go in the living room or something, if you wanna' have a whole conversation about it.
This is where he'd groan and flop back down on the bed if he were dealing with one of the members of his retinue, always one to mope and dwell in privacy. But Markus? It feels worse to deny him when he's doing something that is admittedly good for him, so Noctis reluctantly forces himself to stand. ]
... I'm not melancholic. I'm fine normally, I just haven't brought that part up a lot. [ Since it happened, since his father was murdered. Maybe that's the problem. ]
[Markus could argue the point — knowing what words to apply when one finds themselves too lost in their own head — but he won’t. Sees no need, not when Noctis is willing to have this conversation with him.
So just a-] I understand. [-as he guides them out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the living area. Markus doesn’t need to tell him that he can sit wherever he likes, and the android settles at one end of the couch.]
It isn’t exactly a topic that comes up in everyday conversation. But it’s good to not leave these kind of thoughts lingering for too long.
[ He busies himself on the short walk with fussing at his hair, pinching at a lock here or there to smooth them down. A vain habit, and, on some occasions, a nervous one. When Noctis is given the option of choosing a spot to sit, however, he chooses to perch on the opposite end of that couch on its arm, bare feet planting on the cushion so he can face him.
It's not the back of a car but he'll treat it like one. ]
"Lingering"... [ It's a bit of a scoff; that's hard to hold back completely. ] That makes it sound like talking about it makes that stuff go away.
[Knowing the pain of loss, especially of loss sudden and unexpected, Markus doesn’t expect it to ever fade. Only for its edges, someday, to be dulled with the slow crawl of time.
He would hope so, at least, for his own sake, too.
The ghost of a scoff is barely given a second thought.]
But it can help, sharing memories with someone else.
[ Noctis chews on the words while he sits there, another deep breath into his lungs meant to give him courage but the exhalation just makes him feel empty. ]
... things could get pretty rough with us sometimes, but even when I was mad I knew he was trying to do the best for us. It's really annoying trying to argue with somebody like that. I guess... it's hard, being a subject and a son at the same time. Couldn't have been easier being a king and a dad.
[He can’t hope to have a frame of reference, of course, though he knows the sense of duty can be so strong that it overrides much else. A king’s obligation to his people, versus a father’s obligation to his son. Markus wonders at the balancing act both sides of a person might require.
And thus prompting the question:] Were you often able to draw a line between the two? To enjoy time together as just… father and son?
[ The question makes his lips quirk like he wants to smile and yet... he doesn't. About so much else his feelings are too fucking complicated, always a repressed swirl that he hides behind a falsely aloof demeanor so he can keep his head above water but this? Just makes him feel unavoidably sad. ]
You know... When I was younger I'd go with him a lot whenever he had something to do, just so we could talk in the car. It ended up being my favorite place.
... it's not like it was his fault. Being busy. I always knew that and I never wanted to be an asshole about it, but when I got older I kept pulling away anyway. Like a-- fuck, I dunno.
[He leans forward a little, elbows pressed against his knees as if tugged in by an invisible wire, attentions hooked on what can only be read as Noctis’ melancholy. The line of his brow creases slightly, and his reply isn’t immediate.
His own experience with Carl was not “normal”, as applied to the usual relationship between father and son: an android gifted to an elderly man, and a connection that would grow from there. Thus he doesn’t want to sound presumptuous, to know exactly what the dynamic between Noctis’ and his own father was like, much less be able to know what it’s like to be royalty on top of everything.]
I don’t think that’s unusual. [He offers, unsure how helpful it is, but wanting to complete his thought regardless—] Busy or not, he was still your father. Of course you’d still want to spend time with him, even if you understood why that time was limited.
[Noctis is marred by the fallacies of youth (maybe Markus is, too), but he knows the young man to be perceptive, intelligent, and good-natured. Not wanting to encroach upon responsibilities of a king, how else could he act?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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Then I accept your apology. And I forgive you, in case you're still feeling guilty about it.
[Something somber settles in him at the offer, though. Feels like melancholy, or the ghost of it, entangled with an imperceptible gratitude.]
I'd like that. Following the advice and example of someone who- [His lips twist into something wry.] -was wiser than the both of us combined, I imagine.
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[ Wow, Noctis, stop talking. ]
He was always giving me lectures when I was a kid that I didn't get but now they make more sense.
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That’s the nature of advice, isn’t it? It seems superfluous until it isn’t.
[Markus pauses for a second, unsure of Noctis’ willingness to linger on this subject, beyond his initial admission. But he decides to ask.]
Will you tell me more about him? Your father.
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[ His hesitation is visible though it isn't pained like it was before -- where does he start? What does he say about him, that would do him justice? ]
You really wanna' hear about that? I can, just... Are you seriously comfortable sitting there like that? You can sit on the bed too or we can go in the living room or something, if you wanna' have a whole conversation about it.
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...We don't have to. It's a conversation that can be saved for another time.
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Pretty sure it's not gonna' get easier to say.
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Then let’s sit in the living room for a while. I know you’re still recovering, but being alone with your thoughts for too long will just leave you…
[A pause for the right word that isn’t just “depressed”.]
…melancholic.
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This is where he'd groan and flop back down on the bed if he were dealing with one of the members of his retinue, always one to mope and dwell in privacy. But Markus? It feels worse to deny him when he's doing something that is admittedly good for him, so Noctis reluctantly forces himself to stand. ]
... I'm not melancholic. I'm fine normally, I just haven't brought that part up a lot. [ Since it happened, since his father was murdered. Maybe that's the problem. ]
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So just a-] I understand. [-as he guides them out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the living area. Markus doesn’t need to tell him that he can sit wherever he likes, and the android settles at one end of the couch.]
It isn’t exactly a topic that comes up in everyday conversation. But it’s good to not leave these kind of thoughts lingering for too long.
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It's not the back of a car but he'll treat it like one. ]
"Lingering"... [ It's a bit of a scoff; that's hard to hold back completely. ] That makes it sound like talking about it makes that stuff go away.
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[Knowing the pain of loss, especially of loss sudden and unexpected, Markus doesn’t expect it to ever fade. Only for its edges, someday, to be dulled with the slow crawl of time.
He would hope so, at least, for his own sake, too.
The ghost of a scoff is barely given a second thought.]
But it can help, sharing memories with someone else.
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... things could get pretty rough with us sometimes, but even when I was mad I knew he was trying to do the best for us. It's really annoying trying to argue with somebody like that. I guess... it's hard, being a subject and a son at the same time. Couldn't have been easier being a king and a dad.
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[He can’t hope to have a frame of reference, of course, though he knows the sense of duty can be so strong that it overrides much else. A king’s obligation to his people, versus a father’s obligation to his son. Markus wonders at the balancing act both sides of a person might require.
And thus prompting the question:] Were you often able to draw a line between the two? To enjoy time together as just… father and son?
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[ The question makes his lips quirk like he wants to smile and yet... he doesn't. About so much else his feelings are too fucking complicated, always a repressed swirl that he hides behind a falsely aloof demeanor so he can keep his head above water but this? Just makes him feel unavoidably sad. ]
You know... When I was younger I'd go with him a lot whenever he had something to do, just so we could talk in the car. It ended up being my favorite place.
... it's not like it was his fault. Being busy. I always knew that and I never wanted to be an asshole about it, but when I got older I kept pulling away anyway. Like a-- fuck, I dunno.
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His own experience with Carl was not “normal”, as applied to the usual relationship between father and son: an android gifted to an elderly man, and a connection that would grow from there. Thus he doesn’t want to sound presumptuous, to know exactly what the dynamic between Noctis’ and his own father was like, much less be able to know what it’s like to be royalty on top of everything.]
I don’t think that’s unusual. [He offers, unsure how helpful it is, but wanting to complete his thought regardless—] Busy or not, he was still your father. Of course you’d still want to spend time with him, even if you understood why that time was limited.
[Noctis is marred by the fallacies of youth (maybe Markus is, too), but he knows the young man to be perceptive, intelligent, and good-natured. Not wanting to encroach upon responsibilities of a king, how else could he act?]
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