[Promises are pretty, fragile little things far more at home in story and song where they won't be twisted and warped to serve whatever purpose their holders hide in their hearts. It's intent and action that get things done in reality and as such those things have always been the forces that directed Regis' life. Even years ago when he allowed himself to give into the fancy there might be a way to change Noctis' fate as the Chosen if he just looked hard enough, he never stepped completely away from those things, and it was they that eventually drew him back and allowed him to accept that some things cannot be changed no matter how much hope and goodwill drove his intent.
This intent is different from that one, though, for it's not based on a fanciful wish, but in reality. Regis knows he may only have a few more years before the Crystal's drain takes him from this world--perhaps even less if the Empire's incursions continue to become more aggressive--but he also knows that unlike others, his presence on this plane of existence won't end with his death. His soul will be bound to the Ring, and Astrals willing, Nyx will continue to defy death long enough to serve at his son's side as well. It won't be the same as being there physically with him, but he will still be able to watch over him.
Less logically, Regis has always been the kind to carry parts of those he's met within his heart. Nyx earned a place there when he was a much younger man, hurt, angry, and above all, determined--a fighter just like those that make up the Lucis Caelum line have always been. Much like Regis always has been.
And so Regis states his intent without hesitation or doubt for whatever form of 'forever' that may be granted to them.
After that statement of intent, though, words become unnecessary, the shift in the air around them and the flicker of emotions across Nyx's face telling more than they ever could. The storm has lessened, but not blown itself out. This is the eye. The place of safety, of calm and rest before the dangers beyond return. It's only here that Regis truly and fully lets everything wash over him, finally taking the time to feel and acknowledge his own reactions--the sparks of need that each press of lips against his neck create, how uncomfortably tight his own pants have become--instead of focusing on those of the man in his lap. He falls more with each kiss, almost forgetting he even asked the question until Nyx talks a hold of his wrist to move his hand lower in a wordless answer.]
Are you certain?
[The question is soft, asked not because Regis doubts that Nyx knows exactly what he wants, but because his position demands absolute certainty. This he cannot let go no matter how close they've been tonight.
He turns his head, pressing his lips into Nyx's hair.]
no subject
This intent is different from that one, though, for it's not based on a fanciful wish, but in reality. Regis knows he may only have a few more years before the Crystal's drain takes him from this world--perhaps even less if the Empire's incursions continue to become more aggressive--but he also knows that unlike others, his presence on this plane of existence won't end with his death. His soul will be bound to the Ring, and Astrals willing, Nyx will continue to defy death long enough to serve at his son's side as well. It won't be the same as being there physically with him, but he will still be able to watch over him.
Less logically, Regis has always been the kind to carry parts of those he's met within his heart. Nyx earned a place there when he was a much younger man, hurt, angry, and above all, determined--a fighter just like those that make up the Lucis Caelum line have always been. Much like Regis always has been.
And so Regis states his intent without hesitation or doubt for whatever form of 'forever' that may be granted to them.
After that statement of intent, though, words become unnecessary, the shift in the air around them and the flicker of emotions across Nyx's face telling more than they ever could. The storm has lessened, but not blown itself out. This is the eye. The place of safety, of calm and rest before the dangers beyond return. It's only here that Regis truly and fully lets everything wash over him, finally taking the time to feel and acknowledge his own reactions--the sparks of need that each press of lips against his neck create, how uncomfortably tight his own pants have become--instead of focusing on those of the man in his lap. He falls more with each kiss, almost forgetting he even asked the question until Nyx talks a hold of his wrist to move his hand lower in a wordless answer.]
Are you certain?
[The question is soft, asked not because Regis doubts that Nyx knows exactly what he wants, but because his position demands absolute certainty. This he cannot let go no matter how close they've been tonight.
He turns his head, pressing his lips into Nyx's hair.]
Forgive me, Wild One. I need you to say it.