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Noctis' screaming is loud. Loud, and desperate, and full of terror, and it breaks Regis' heart. He turns away from the door, letting it shut again as his hand slips from the knob, and heads back to his child for the third time. "Noctis," he says, grief tinging the soothing tone he's aiming for, "Child, please don't scream. I promise I won't be gone long. You're safe here, and I'll be back soon."
"No!" Noctis howls, beating his small fists against his legs that still haven't fully relearned to walk. "No, you can't leave, you can't you can't, don't leave me!" Tears are streaming down his already soaked cheeks, his eyes red and puffy from the last ten minutes of crying, and it's quite a wonder his voice hasn't started to go hoarse.
Regis crouches down to be at eye level with his son, even though Noctis isn't looking at him. "Noctis, I have to," he says. "There is a matter that I must deal with. But Ignis and Gladio are both here, and they can play with you while I am gone. You won't even notice my absence soon enough, and I'll be back before you know it." He extends his right hand out, intending to brush some stray hair back behind Noctis' ear, but Noctis catches the movement from the corner of his eye and jerks his head away, beyond his father's reach, clearly no longer wanting comfort. Regis swallows down the hurt at that rejection and drops his hand.
Getting to his feet, he goes to the door once more, pulling it open as he sends a silent apology to everyone on the hall who will now hear his son's screams at full blast. He looks back at Noctis, still in the middle of his meltdown, and swallows hard, doing his best to push away all the sorrow and guilt he feels at abandoning—no, leaving, he has to think of it in that way if he's to ever have a chance of getting Noctis to stop seeing it as abandonment, he's leaving—his child during such distress. "You're safe," he says quietly, and he knows it's really reassurance for himself, since Noctis won't hear the words over his cries. He steps from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.
The cries fade away—the walls in the palace are thick, and good at muffling noise—but Regis' guilt doesn't. It's as strong as it had been the first time he'd walked away from such a meltdown—and it's been three weeks now, and he's coming to his wit's end.
He has no idea what to do. After the daemon attack, after the coma—he'd thought it been bad then, how quiet and withdrawn Noctis had been. Tenebrae had helped. Lunafreya had helped, more than the slow healing of injuries had. She'd drawn out his son with her gentle kindness, and Regis had felt reassured his lively little boy was still there behind the silent exterior. He knew he only needed give it time, and Noctis would return to more of his old self.
But now—
Now Tenebrae has been attacked, and the two of them barely escaped with their lives, Lunafreya left behind to live her life imprisoned by Niflheim in Fenestala Manor, and Noctis cannot bear to be from his side any longer.
He makes his way down the hall and around the corner, to the bank of elevators that will carry him to the business wing where his offices are. He'll be gone an hour tops, and by the time he returns Noctis will have sobbed himself hoarse and fallen into an exhausted sleep. He'll wake up within the following hour though, his hands and eyes frantically searching for Regis' presence, only calming once he finds it.
It's an ache deep in Regis' chest every time it happens, but he has little choice but to endure it. Noctis has refused any attempts at getting him to talk from the therapist Regis had brought in. And even though the man had reassured him he'd seen it before, and to give his son a couple weeks to settle down and let his anxiety lessen, Regis has seen no signs of settling so far.
The elevator dings, the doors sliding open smoothly, and he steps on, allowing a small sigh to escape. He hates to see Noctis in such a state, but the kingdom won't hold up without his presence much longer. He's done only the bare minimum these last few weeks in order to stay by Noctis' side as much as he can, but that won't be an option soon, and he worries. He needs to find a way to soothe his child, and he needs to find it quickly.
Another quiet ding, and after several seconds the doors open again. He exits the elevator, and though it pains him, takes a moment to push away all thoughts of his son before striding confidently down the hall to his office.
* * *
"No, don't go, don't go, please don't go!"
Regis sighs in helpless frustration, scrubbing a weary hand over his face. It's been another week, and Noctis' terror at being separated from his father hasn't lessened in the slightest. Every day he's left to deal with the kingdom, and every time Noctis has dissolved into a sobbing, screaming mess once he realises Regis intends to leave. He truly is at a loss on what to do.
Letting out another sigh, he drops back into his seat. He's been doing as much of his work as he can from Noctis' playroom, but there are just some things he can't bring with him, and Noctis complains of boredom if Regis brings him to the office, or to a meeting. "Very well," he says, unable to keep the resigned tone from his voice. "I'll stay."
It's exactly what the therapist has told him not to do. Instead, he's supposed to be announcing that he's leaving and then leave, with no lingering or coming back to comfort Noctis so that he learns screaming won't get him what he wants, but Regis has tried that for the last week and his child's cries have torn at his heartstrings too much. They feel too battered; he can't do it again, and certainly not when it doesn't even seem to be helping.
At his words, Noctis stops his screaming, but breathy little sobs still escape him as tears trail down his face. "You're gonna stay?" he asks, swiping an arm across his snot-soaked nose.
Both the action and the hopeful note in his voice make Regis wince. He nods anyway. "Yes," he says, ruthlessly smothering the guilt that flares up. He'll stay, but only until Noctis inevitably falls asleep from exhaustion, and then he'll sneak away like the coward he is. It's another thing that the therapist had warned against, as waking up to seemingly find his worst fears coming true could make Noctis worse, and he sees the logic in that, but Regis simply can't bear his child's distress any longer.
Noctis nods back, his sobs at last quieting, a wan smile briefly flitting across his face, and though Regis is worn and tired and hurting, he smiles back. Because the sight of that smile is the most precious thing in the world to him, and it's been an almost non-existent rarity these last few months.
He turns his attention back to his work then, and he can sense the fearful gaze on him at first, Noctis watching him to make sure he keeps to his word and stays, but it doesn't take long for reassurance to be replaced with boredom, and his son turns his attention back to the book he'd been colouring in.
After a couple minutes of Noctis quietly scribbling in his book, Ignis comes creeping out from the corner he'd holed himself up in—he finds the screams distressing as well, and unlike Regis, he's not experienced enough to hide that distress. He usually retreats to a corner, hugging himself and rocking slightly, and Regis is just as concerned for him as he is for Noctis. Ignis feels as much of a son to him as Noctis, and he doesn't wish to see either of them hurting.
For now though, he seems okay, plopping down on the floor next to Noctis and reaching for his own colouring book. Regis watches him out of the corner of his eye as he begins to neatly colour, taking care to stay in the lines, unlike Noctis who still uses his crayons haphazardly. He's worried about what potential long-term effects this trauma will have on Ignis. He isn't much older than Noctis, and they're both so young still. He's weathered the past few months admirably so far, but Regis has seen the hints of separation anxiety in Ignis as well—he rarely wants to leave Noctis' side, though he doesn't fall apart the same way when they can't be together.
Still, it's worrying, and he wonders if Ignis would be more willing to talk to a therapist than his son has been. It's not really his place, as Ignis isn't actually his son, but perhaps he can bring it up to the boy's uncle.
The sudden chime of his phone distracts him from his thoughts, and he grabs it, reading the text from Clarus. Of course, his Shield is wondering where he is. He was supposed to be down there fifteen minutes ago. With all his despairing, he'd forgotten to message Clarus and let him know of the delay.
With another tired sigh, he does so, and when he hits send and looks up from his phone, Ignis is standing in front of the table he's been using as a makeshift desk, his green eyes gazing at him and looking far too solemn for a child of his age. It hurts his heart. Both of his boys deserve a happier life than the one fate has given them. "Yes, child?" he asks, glancing beyond Ignis to find that Noctis has fallen asleep, curled up on the floor with his head resting on his colouring book and a crayon still held loosely in his hand.
"Noct is afraid he'll get attacked and hurt again if you leave," Ignis tells him, and Regis feels his heart clench at the candid words. He'd thought Noctis was afraid of him not coming back, that he was worried Regis might leave him behind the way he'd 'left' Lunafreya. He'd never considered that Noctis was afraid for himself.
He swallows hard. "I won't let that happen. And he is safe here in the palace."
"He doesn't trust that."
"How do I get him to?" It feels like an unfair question to ask. Ignis is a child, and it isn't his burden to try and fix Noctis. But he's seen how much Ignis has come to care for Noctis in the years since they first met, how deep the bond between them runs. And he knows what Ignis is like, how he always takes it upon himself to try and fix things—he always wants a solution for everything. If Regis asks him for suggestions now, he'll feel like he's helping. And if it's something that happens to work... truth be told, he's willing to try anything at this point.
Ignis blinks, giving him a look that only a child would dare to, one that says, duh, isn't the answer obvious? Regis has to take care to hide a tired grin at it. "He needs something to feel protected when you're not with him."
"Something to remind him of me?" Regis has tried that already, leaving small things of his that Noctis could look at and think of him, and even his jacket once. Noctis had wrapped up in it, but had kept sobbing and screaming. Short of leaving weapons, which Regis is not going to do for his eight year old, he's out of ideas.
Folding his arms across his chest, Ignis straightens up, clearly trying to stand tall and look grown-up, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the embarrassed look on his face, a light blush dusting across his nose and cheeks. "When I first came to the palace," he says, and then stops, turning his head away. Regis isn't sure if it's out of embarrassment or grief. When Ignis had first come to the palace, it had been because his parents had just died, and his uncle had been given custody of him. He's never been sure how much of that time Ignis remembers, or how well he's processed his grief.
He stays quiet, waiting, but after a long moment in which it becomes clear Ignis isn't going to continue on his own, Regis gets up from his chair, going around the table to sit in a kneeling position before the child. He reaches out, carefully pulling Ignis' arms away from his chest and then gently takes the small hands in his own, engulfing them, pleased when the boy doesn't pull away.
"I remember when you first came to the Citadel," he says softly, recalling the tiny, traumatised four year old Ignis had been then. He'd wander around the palace with too-large haunted eyes that looked through people, and never say a word. It had taken months for him to speak, and longer still for him to speak to anyone other than Noctis and himself. "It was a difficult time for you."
Ignis looks at him, a few tears trickling from his eyes. It makes Regis ache fiercely to sweep him up in his arms and give him a tight hug, but Ignis has never been very accepting of much physical comfort from anyone other than Noctis. "I didn't know anyone then," he says. "I didn't think there was anyone to protect me."
"You were scared. Like Noctis."
Ignis nods, pulling his hands away from Regis as he tries to quickly wipe away the tears, his cheeks reddening again. "Coco helped. She reminded me of my parents. They gave her to me as a present for my birthday that year. So I felt safe."
At first Regis is confused, not sure who Coco is, but then he remembers—for almost a year Ignis had carried around a stuffed coeurl plush that had been nearly as big as him, hugging it to him tightly. He'd even had the thought back then that Ignis seemed to find a sense of comfort and safety in the toy animal. Eventually he'd started leaving it behind, probably wanting to appear more grown-up, but Regis is sure the boy still has it. "Feeling safe is important."
"Noct needs to feel safe too."
He's not sure if such a thing would work for Noctis, who's never shown much interest in stuffed animals before, but again, he's willing to try anything at this point. "Very well. I have a mission for you then. A top secret one that will be just between us."
At that, Ignis perks up, an expression of curious intrigue coming over him. "I won't tell anyone," he says, putting a finger to his lips with a small smile.
It relieves Regis to see the boy acting like the nine year old he is for once. Since his son first fell into a coma, he's observed Ignis doing his best to act as grown up as possible at all times. He's presumed it's because he wants to be trusted to help take care of Noctis, and Regis hasn't discouraged it because he will need the skills and practice if he's to be advisor to him in a few years, but it does make him hurt to see. It's the price of royalty, he knows, but he wishes both boys could enjoy a carefree childhood as long as possible.
Stifling a sigh, he puts the painful thoughts out of his mind and turns his attention back to Ignis. "Your mission, then, is to find out what Noctis' favourite animal is, without letting him know why you wish to know," he tells the boy. "Once you have the answer, you will then report back to me in secret, also without Noctis being aware of it. Do you choose to accept this mission?"
"How do I report back to you?"
Regis frowns, thinking a moment. "Do you have your own cellphone yet?"
Ignis nods.
"Then, I will give you my number," he says, jotting it down on a scrap of paper as he speaks, "and when Noctis is distracted or asleep, you can simply text me the name of the animal." He hands over the slip of paper, smiling a little as Ignis takes it with a clear look of awe. It's perhaps a bit reckless to give a nine year old his personal cell number, but he trusts the boy not to misuse it. And if he's to start leaving Noctis, it'll be good for Ignis to have a way to contact him if it's truly necessary. "Do you choose to accept this mission?" he asks again.
Straightening up again, Ignis gives him a solemn nod. "I accept, your Majesty," he says in his best adult voice, and it takes everything Regis has to not laugh at how precious he is.
"An excellent choice. Now, I must take my leave. If Noctis wakes before I return, please reassure him I will be back by three pm. I know he'll be upset and it may be difficult, but simply do your best."
Ignis doesn't look happy about the request, but he dutifully agrees, stepping back as Regis gets to his feet. He waits until Regis has let the nanny know he's leaving and gotten to the door before he speaks again, his voice hesitant. "Noct didn't want to tell you because he was scared you'd be mad, but his phone broke in Tenebrae. When he was leaving."
"I see," Regis says, but truthfully he's not certain why Ignis has chosen now to bring this up. Noctis hadn't been able to use his phone during the daemon attack or the invasion of Tenebrae—he can't see it representing any sort of safety for his son. "I'm not mad. I'm sure it wasn't his fault."
"I know," Ignis says, but Regis waits, because it's clear the child is still hesitating. "I think... sometimes Noct just wants to hear you still. When you're gone. So he knows you're not really gone."
"Ah." Now Regis gets it. And he feels quite like an idiot, that he needs a child to point out what should have been an obvious solution. "I'll get him a new one. That will be our secret for now too, alright?"
"Alright." Ignis looks pleased, whether because he's helping Noctis or because he now has two secrets to keep, Regis isn't sure. But the grin on his face is heartwarming either way. It makes it a little easier to pull open the door and step through it, leaving his children behind for the kingdom that, in the end, always has to come first.
* * *
Two days later, Regis' phone chimes with a text that simply says, dragon. He's been out in the gardens for the last forty minutes, both boys out with him, the two of them taking a careful walk as Noctis works to build the muscles in his leg back up, but when he looks up from his phone he finds they had apparently stopped at some point to sit and play in the dirt.
Now Noctis is asleep, his head resting in Ignis' lap, and he catches Ignis' eye as he raises his phone, giving the boy a nod to acknowledge the received message. Dragon is not the answer he'd expected, but if dragons are what his son likes, then dragons are what Regis will get him.
* * *
It's harder than Regis had expected to find an appropriate stuffed dragon for Noctis. He tries looking online first, but most of what he finds are childish looking with cartoon art styles that he doesn't think Noctis will appreciate, and the ones that aren't are too small for what he wants. After a couple of hours of searching, he does finally find a more realistic looking one with colours that would appeal to his son, and a size big enough for Noctis to curl up with and hold and use as a pillow, but when he goes to place an order he's frustrated to find it's listed as out of stock, with no estimated restock date.
It sets off another screaming meltdown that nearly has Regis himself sobbing in helpless frustration and grief, but he resigns himself to having Cor drive him and Clarus to the nearest toy store so he can shop the actual stock. It's an annoying ordeal that involves both Cor and Clarus intimidating reporters and paparazzi with their fiercest glares to keep their distance, but if it gets Noctis to feel safe whenever he's gone, it'll be worth it.
In the end, it takes seven stores before Regis finally finds something he wants, but at last he's leaving with a large stuffed dragon that's nearly as big as Noctis, its body a gradient of dark blue and black scales, and its inner wings and belly a shiny silver. The horns are silver too, but they're also covered in glitter. The dragon is filled with a mix of soft pellets and stuffing that make it quite squishy, and the fabric covering it is soft and plush to the touch, so Regis hopes that Noctis will find it both comfortable and comforting.
On the way home, they stop at the phone store closest to the Citadel, to pick up the phone that he had thankfully found much easier to order online. He sets it up on the rest of the drive back to the palace, and then places it back in its box and puts it and the dragon in a large gift bag he'd also picked up at the toy store.
Noctis is asleep when Regis steps into the playroom, curled up into a little ball on the floor, and when he steps closer he can still see the faint tracks of dried tears on his son's cheeks, bringing a painful lump to his throat, to think of how long the child must have cried after he left. He needs these gifts to work.
Ignis is sitting next to Noctis, one hand running fingers through Noctis' hair while the other holds a book that Regis can tell he's not really reading—his eyes don't move across the page. He looks up when Regis steps over, eyeing the gift bag in his hands. "Is that it?" he asks in a hushed voice.
Regis nods, setting the bag down on the floor and tipping it slightly so that Ignis can peek into it. His eyes go wide at the dragon, and he puts down his book, starting to reach into the bag before he hesitates, withdrawing his hand and looking back at Regis, his eyes seeking permission. "Go ahead," Regis tells him with a smile.
Ignis does, letting his hand come down gently on the dragon's head to feel the plush fabric. "It's soft." He runs his hand over it one more time, and then pulls it away from the bag, picking his book back up. "Noct will like it."
"I certainly hope you are correct in that." Regis glances back to the table he's been using as a desk, and after a moment's contemplation, decides to settle down on the floor beside his boys. He's still feeling raw after Noctis' earlier meltdown and Ignis' own distressed reaction to it, and he wants to be physically near them for as much his own sake as theirs.
It's a long half hour before Noctis wake, his eyes fluttering open slowly, hands already grasping around to see if his dad is close by. Regis takes one of them in his own hand, closing it around his son's fingers. "I'm here, child," he says quietly around the lump in his throat. It isn't fair that Noctis should have to wake with such fear and panic. "You're safe."
"Dad," Noctis murmurs as his sleepy gaze drifts over to Regis. "Insomnia?"
"Insomnia," Regis confirms. He must have had another nightmare about Tenebrae. The therapist had said they'd gradually stop as Noctis came to understand and feel that he was safe again, but Regis worries if he'll ever get that sense of safety back. He wishes he could convince Noctis to talk to the therapist about his fears.
Perhaps eventually. But in the meantime... "I have a present for you. Two presents, even."
Noctis blinks, pulling his hand back to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sits up, mindful of Ignis' hand that had still been running through his hair. "Two presents?" He blinks again, catching sight of the large bag near him. "But it's not my birthday."
Regis laughs. "No, it isn't. Go on, give it a look."
Noctis does so, peering with caution over the top of the bag as he tips it toward him. He stares at the dragon with a blank look for several seconds—making Regis' stomach plummet, fearing that he doesn't like it—and then turns towards Ignis with an accusing look on his face. "You said you didn't have a reason for asking!"
"It was a top secret mission," Ignis says with a conspiratorial grin at Regis, and he grins in return, biting back the laughter that's threatening to break out. It's all too easy to imagine how subtle Ignis wasn't in asking, and Noctis' confusion at the likely out of nowhere question.
Noctis grumbles under his breath at that as he pulls the stuffed dragon out of the bag, looking it over. He runs his hands over it, turning it this way and that, inspecting the colouring and the detailed stitching in the design, squeezing the wings and limbs and body, noting the difference in stuffing. "I'm too old for stuffed animals," he says at last, but it doesn't escape Regis' attention that he's yet to let go of the dragon.
"Nonsense," Regis says, and then sticks his hand into the bag to pull out something he'd hidden in the bottom—a smaller dragon no bigger than a kitten, designed exactly like the large one he'd gotten Noctis. "You're never too old for stuffed animals. See, this one is mine."
Noctis scrunches his face up, his brows furrowed as he looks at the smaller dragon. "Why do you have one?"
"Well, yours is the dad dragon. He protects the smaller son dragon. But, since I'm not in need of a dad dragon, the son dragon is staying with me so that I can think of you when you're not around. And since he'll be protected with me, I thought perhaps the dad dragon could help protect you."
Noctis gives an uncertain glance between both dragons, and then to Regis. "He's only a toy."
Regis nods. "True. But the same way this little one will remind me of you, I hope that the big one will remind you of me, and help you to remember that I will always, always do my best to protect you and keep you safe, and that even when I'm not around, I will always come running to save you from any harm, the same way I did when the daemon attacked, and when Tenebrae was invaded."
"But what if you don't know that I'm not safe?" Noctis asks, and there's a tremble in his voice that makes Regis want to sweep him up in his arms and hold him tight and never let go.
"That's what the second present is meant to help with," Regis says, gesturing towards the bag.
Noctis looks at it—still holding on to his new dragon—and then grabs it, reaching in and feeling around until he finds the small box containing his new phone. He brings it out, setting the box in his lap and staring down at it. "I didn't..."
"I told him," Ignis pipes up from behind him. "You needed a new phone. He's not mad."
"I'm not," Regis agrees. "I wish you had told me your phone had gotten broken sooner. I would have replaced it immediately." He takes the box from Noctis' lap, opening it up and taking the phone, pressing the thin button along the side to turn it on. "I've already set it up for you, and my number is under "Dad" in your contacts. It works exactly the same as your old phone to call me. You can call me whenever you need to feel safe."
"I can call you?" Noctis asks, and he hates to hear how small and afraid his son's voice sounds, even if he understands it. He's only allowed Noctis to call him for true emergencies before, not wanting to be interrupted during an important meeting or press conference by Noctis calling him over some squabble he and Ignis had gotten into, but now...
"Yes," Regis tells him, holding the phone out to him. "I may not always be able to talk with you, but I will always answer, and keep the call going so that you may hear my voice. In fact, if you'd like to start a phone call with me whenever I have to leave, and keep it going to hear me until you feel safe enough to hang up, that would be fine as well." He hopes it will be—he'd checked with the therapist, who'd tentatively approved it, as long as Noctis showed signs of tapering off after a few weeks, but the ever-present worry that none of this will help or will only make things worse always lingers.
Noctis takes the phone, pressing the home button to find the lock screen asking for a password. He looks back up at Regis.
"Five four six four." The numbers spell king, but he doesn't tell Noctis that. He'll figure it out someday.
Noctis puts them in, and then goes straight for his contacts once the home screen comes up, finding Regis' number easily. He gazes at it for a moment, and then glances at Regis again. "Thank you," he says quietly. "For both my presents."
"You're welcome. You like the dragon too?"
His face turns a little red, but he still nods, wrapping his arms a little more securely around it. "He's big. Like you."
At that Regis smiles, because that's exactly the kind of association he's been hoping Noctis would have. "I'm glad."
"What are you going to name him?" Ignis asks then.
Noctis shrugs. "I dunno. He reminds me of stars. And night."
Ignis stares at the dragon, a considering look on his face as he clearly tries to come up with the perfect name for it. "What about Astrophel?" he suggests eventually.
Frowning, Noctis lets go of his dragon enough to hold it at arms length, studying it. "Astrophel?" His tone of voice hints at disdain, but Ignis plows on, either unaware of or ignoring the disapproval.
"It's one of our constellations. We looked at it last summer, remember? It means star lover. It was from a poem. Astrophel loved Stella, and her name means star. You liked the constellation," Ignis says, that last bit obviously meant to sway Noctis into agreeing with the name.
It won't work, but Regis is pleased to see him at least try. Sometimes he worries that Ignis is too willing to blindly go along with whatever Noctis wants, with complete disregard for his own wants and needs. Noctis needs someone loyal and devoted, but also someone who won't be afraid to stand up to him and tell him no, or speak his own mind when the situation is warranted.
"That's a dumb name," Noctis says, making a face as he continues to regard his dragon.
Regis can see how much Ignis wants to retort back with something equally mean, hurt written all over his face, but he holds back, only allowing himself to say, "It was just a suggestion."
Noctis doesn't respond to that, and Ignis stays silent as well, likely not willing to be rejected a second time. "I like Stardust," Noctis declares eventually.
It's Ignis' turn to make a face, and privately, even Regis finds himself a little confused at the choice. "Stardust?" Ignis asks, his dislike evident in his voice.
Noctis folds the left wing of the dragon over to expose the back of it, where there's a glittering patch of silver along the edge that shouldn't be there. A manufacturing error that Regis hadn't noticed when picking it out. He can see now why Noctis came up with the name. "It looks like stardust on his wing," he says. "I can call him Dusty for short."
Ignis ponders that. "Dusty's alright," he finally says, though it's clear to Regis he still doesn't care much for it.
"I think Dusty's a fine name," he says, interjecting himself back into the conversation. "And now, I think it's dinner time. Wash up, and we'll head down to the dining room."
Two 'yes sir's immediately chorus out as Ignis scrambles to his feet quickly, reaching down to help Noctis up, who still moves slow while his legs continue to improve. Regis watches the boys make their way to the connected bathroom, the newly named Dusty still clutched in his son's hands, and then looks down at the small dragon in his own hands.
He'll have to carry it around. He'd told Noctis he was keeping it close for protection, and he means to do that. It ought to embarrass him, to think of everyone's reactions to seeing their king carry a stuffed dragon around the palace, but it doesn't. If it makes Noctis feel more secure with his dragon, secure enough to eventually stop panicking when he's separated from his father, then it will be worth any rumours and odd looks.
Noctis will want him to name it, but that's fine—he'd already decided in the car. Nova. A star that shines brighter and brighter before fading back to its original self. It seems apt for the little dragon representing Noctis, more apt than he'd like to admit, the reminder of Bahamut's words to him a few years ago still echoing faintly in the back of his mind.
And the irony of Noctis picking a dragon as his favourite, to be his protector, when Bahamut feels like anything but to Regis, with the prophecy—
"Dad! Come on!" Noctis calls from the doorway of the playroom, urgency and impatience tangled up in his voice. "Let's go eat!"
No. He won't think about it now. There's still time before it matters. Shaking those horrible thoughts from his head, Regis goes.
* * *
"Do you have to leave?"
Regis gets down on one knee, giving his child a sad smile as he puts his hands on Noctis' shoulders. "I do," he tells him. "But it will only be a couple of hours. And you have Dusty now, just as I have Nova. You can hold him and pretend it's me. And you may call me and talk to me until I'm in the council meeting, and then you may listen and still hear my voice. And I will be able to hear if anything happens to you. I promise you, Noctis, you will be safe, and I will come protect you if I need to."
"I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be alone." His voice is small, and scared, and it makes Regis' heart ache deeply, but he knows he can't give in if Noctis is to ever get past this.
"I know," he says, "but you promised me you would try. And you won't truly be alone. You'll have Dusty, and Ignis, and your nanny, and even me still in a way. You'll be fine, child, if you give it a chance. You're a brave boy, and I know you can do this. So will you try, for me?"
A few tears trickle down Noctis' cheeks, trailing over the ones he'd already cried earlier. He sniffles, swiping at them as he hugs Dusty tighter to him. "I'll try."
"Good boy," Regis praises, letting go of his shoulders as he picks Nova up from the floor and gets to his feet. "I'm proud of you."
Noctis says nothing, more tears leaking from his eyes, watching silently as Regis turns and begins to take his leave, heading to where his Shield is waiting for him out in the hall.
The door has only just shut behind Regis when his phone rings. He ignores Clarus' raised eyebrow and stifles a sigh—he'd expected it, but still had hope he could at least make it to the end of the hall first. Perhaps after a few days. He puts Nova under one arm, using it to pin the little dragon against his body, and then pulls the phone from his pocket, swiping at the screen to answer. "I'm here, Noctis. You're not alone."
"I know," comes the reply, but he can hear the wobble in his son's voice.
"Tell me what you'd like to do when I get back," Regis suggests, and after a hesitant pause, Noctis does so, his words uncertain at first, but gaining confidence as he begins to chatter away, clearly finding comfort in his dad's responses as he seemingly forgets Regis isn't right there with him.
"—an' then after hide 'n seek we're gonna go to dinner," Noctis says happily as Regis approaches the meeting room.
"Sounds like you have a solid plan then," he says, halting just outside the door, Clarus coming to a stop beside him. "Now, I'm about to go into my meeting, but you may still stay on the phone and listen to me. If you get scared, think of all those things you just told me, and focus on us doing them once I get back. Alright?"
"...Alright," Noctis agrees, and there's fear in his voice again, but Regis is thankful to notice it's not the same sheer panic of the last month. It's the first hint of real hope he's had, and he allows himself to believe this just might work after all.
"I'll be back soon."
"Yeah," Noctis says before falling silent, and Regis assumes that's the end of the conversation. He reaches out his free arm to pull open the door, but just before his hand closes around the knob, Noctis' voice comes again, quiet and a little embarrassed. "Dusty's soft. An' comfortable."
Regis blinks, a little surprised Noctis knows a word that long, but likely he picked it up from Ignis, whose vocabulary even at nine could easily match a grown adult's. "He was meant to be," is all he says however, smiling at the thought of Noctis snuggling up with his dragon.
"I feel safe." It's said in a hushed whisper, as if Noctis isn't sure he wants to admit it.
There's a sudden lump in his throat that takes a hard swallow before Regis can speak, and even then it feels like a struggle to force the words out. "I'm very glad to hear that." He wants to cry in sheer relief, and wouldn't that be a sight, walking into the council meeting in front of his most loyal of men, tears streaming non-stop down his face? They'd certainly be alarmed—he didn't even cry when Aulea died, at least not where anyone saw.
"Did Ignis say why dragon is what I like most?"
"He did not. Would you like to tell me?"
"It's 'cause... 'cause when that daemon attacked me... you weren't there, but then you were. You were a dragon, flying in angry and stompin' around to protect me and breathin' fire on the daemon and using your claws to slice it up until it couldn't hurt me anymore."
He hadn't realised his son had seen that much of the battle—but Noctis' recall isn't inaccurate. He had used a bit of fire magic to help drive the daemon back initially, before unleashing his full Armiger on her to force her over the edge of the cliff. It's not something he would have thought of himself, but he can see where Noctis is coming from with the dragon association.
"Well then," he says, paying no mind to the slight tremble in his voice, "You just hold Dusty tight, and know that I will always be your dragon dad that will stomp around and breathe fire to protect you. I have to go in now. Everyone is waiting on me."
"Okay," Noctis says. "Love you, Dad. Thanks for protecting me."
Well, surely a few quick tears won't hurt. "You're welcome, child. Love you too."
He lowers the phone, ignoring the raised eyebrow look Clarus is still giving him. After a moment to compose himself and wipe his face, he frees Nova from under his arm, then gestures to the door. Once Clarus opens it, he walks into the council meeting with his head held high, his phone in one hand and Nova clutched tightly in the other.
The odd looks start up almost immediately, but Regis doesn't care. It's the first time since Noctis woke from his coma that he's said "love you," to Regis, and that means everything in the world to him. He may have chosen the name Nova to represent Noctis, but right now, it's his own star that feels like it's shining a little brighter tonight, the words setting off an explosion of fierce love and joy he hasn't felt in what feels like far too long, all his positive emotions overshadowed by the worries of the past few months.
Despite however the next few weeks might go with Noctis' separation anxiety, right now, in this moment, Regis has done something right, because his son feels safe, and protected, and loves him, and that's truly the only thing that matters to him.