[In many ways, the day never draws to an end for Regis. Even as he returns to his quarters alone--this being one of those rare nights where he's convinced Clarus it's not necessary to see him to the door--his mind is still going over the files and reports they were reviewing before parting ways. Foremost in his mind is a list of names. The latest casualties from the front. Those whose families he will need to see letters to; those who have no families and they will need to speak with their fellows to find out who might stand as next of kin. For how the list grows so fast now, he never forgets one. He can't.
His stride falters a moment, leg aching after day that has been too long. Regis wishes there was a way he could be out there with them instead of stuck here, but he also knows he would be no help. His body is not what it once was years ago. Some days it's a struggle to get from one end of the Citadel to the other, though he does all he can to hide that. He needs to look strong for his country and people.
For Noctis as well, even though he sees his son so rarely anymore.
Despite all that is on his mind, when Regis nears the balcony, he instinctively senses the presence there. His reaction would be stronger if he didn't also feel the pull on his magic. His visitor is not an enemy lurking where no one should be, but one of his trusted Kingsglaive.
One specific Glaivesman, actually, and the realization draws an amused smile to his lips before he lets his face settle back into a mask of regal seriousness.
His footsteps come to a halt several paces back from the open balcony, and as they do, Regis can almost hear Clarus' voice speaking a warning in his head. He may be within the heavily guarded Citadel, but his guards are still human and humans make mistakes.
Honestly, the warnings get old sometimes, but he has a country and a people to think of. He can't take risks, even if they are small ones.]
Did I miss the memo warning of a threat made against my balcony, Glaive Ulric? For surely, there is no other reason for you to be lingering here when your own bed must be calling.
[Those footsteps come to a halt and Nyx smiles to himself, imagines the look on the King's face. Confusion, amusement, weary caution. Then Regis speaks and Nyx rolls his eyes before he rolls smoothly to his feet, motion easy and practiced, as though he's accustomed to lounging like he himself is royalty.
Two steps into the open doorway, moonlight framing him, uniform jacket discarded, down to leather pants and foil printed tee as he moves back a few more steps, arms spread behind him, gripping the railing of the balcony, the night breeze sending his braids skittering over his shoulders.]
Not at all, Majesty.
[Light, playful, the grin evident in his voice even if the dramatic back lighting casts most of his face in shadows.]
Your balcony's quite safe, the threat is to you, yourself, sir.
[Words he knows damn well will put Regis on edge so he raises one hand, a halting gesture, something to quiet the questions or protests.]
Because I'm pretty sure if you don't come out here and appreciate the view of your city and this gorgeous night that stick up your ass is going to become fatal. Such a shame, already claimed your Shield, what about you?
[A laugh, a nod, holding his hand out in offering.]
Don't tell me you've lost all your spirit....
..... sir.
[Just challenging enough that he desperately hopes Regis will have to take him up on it. A calculated risk, he can tell himself that but he knows damn well the calculations ended at getting here, not whatever his stupid mouth came up with.]
[Nyx is right about how those words put Regis on edge. It's an instinctive response despite the fact this is Nyx Ulric, the shattered young man he pulled from Galahd's ruins and who he's watched grow into a fearsome warrior over the last few years. Even with his rebellious nature, he's been a cornerstone of the Glaive almost from the moment it was founded in its present incarnation.
Magic thickens the air just for a moment and then Nyx continues. The way that magic fades from the air again is the first sign that Nyx didn't miscalculate this particular risk. The second comes more suddenly than the first when Regis lifts a hand to rest it against his chest as he lets out a choked, and frankly unregal, laugh.
Once the laugh passes, more quickly than Nyx probably wishes, Regis has to clear his throat before speaking.]
If you truly wish permanent Wall guard duty, I suspect there are far less painful ways to achieve your goal. For your own good, I hope my Shield doesn't catch wind of you having said that. [Regis' voice is so grave that telling how serious that warning is would be impossible if it wasn't for the twinkle in his eyes. He moves forward a few more steps, those steps bringing him even with the balcony's opening.]
You do realize if I step out there, you are on duty again. My life is in your hands. Spirit is, unfortunately, a poor shield against assassins.
Aww c'mon, Majesty. You're not gonna turn me in are ya?
[A wicked bit of challenge in the words, lips curving up into a smirk. Clarus would murder him, this is true. But the only person Clarus could possibly learn it from is Regis.
Nyx is only just close enough to see that spark, the bit of mischief that he's seen before, that made him confident that Regis would appreciate a bit of fun. If there's a bit of a thrill in it, in seeing the King himself let lose just a little, well. Regis is a very attractive man.
The hesitation makes the smug smile slip a little, has Nyx stepping away from the railing, crossing the balcony to stand directly in front of Regis. It's an old, outdated show of respect, the way he bows, takes Regis' hand and brushes his lips over his knuckles. A gesture of honor, of loyalty, fealty sworn to his liege. There is no question that on duty or off he would sacrifice everything for his king.
It should be the ring he kisses but the chance to feel warm skin under his lips is a little too enticing for him to pass up. Pale blue eyes lift to meet green, the soft light of the moon making them look silver, reflective like some predatory animal. And then he smirks again, rolling his shoulder in a casual shrug.]
Got it all wrong, Majesty. It's that spirit we should be shielding. C'mon.
I probably should, but then I would be down a very talented glaive, and I'm quite certain there's no one who could fill your shoes. No, it is wisest to keep you right where you are.
[Of course, that statement takes a bit of unintended meaning when Nyx bows and presses his lips Regis' hand. It's a surprising show of respect, outdated as it may be. Regis has never minded the fact the practice fell away for most people would do it merely as an expected symbolic act. It would mean little or nothing and he's never had time for such things.
This is the complete opposite of that and Regis can't help but let his eyes fall shut a moment as those warm lips press against his skin. His opens his eyes again just in time catch that predatory look, and suddenly finds himself happy that he's learned to school his expression enough that no blush has a hope of crossing his face. His eyes soften, though.]
Is that so? [Despite the his words, Regis doesn't resist being led out onto the balcony any longer.]
Why do I get the impression there are many things that you would like to correct my views on?
That predatory gaze goes hot and fierce for a fleeting moment. Less passive, less observing a hunter and more being the hunted. For one wild moment even Nyx isn't sure what he wants to do, what he will do. Green eyes flicker back to his face and go soft, gentle and wise and he has to lick his lips, slow and hungry and force down the parts of himself that want to pounce. It would be so easy. Forget the balcony there's a dozen pieces of furniture he could press Regis to, feel the body he is damn confident is nowhere near as weak as he might allow people to suppose.
Slowly he straightens again, the act clearly one that takes a great deal of willpower. His hand never leaves Regis' though, guiding him out into the moonlight carefully measured steps, pale gaze bright and alert. Nothing will get the drop on them, at least. ]
Correct? I wouldn't presume to correct the King. But I sure wouldn't mind a debate or two with a new... [A pause, gaze just as heated and eager as a moment before.] ... friend.
[Regis knows he's allowing his eyes to follow the motion of Nyx's tongue over his lips far too closely, but it's either that or focus on the rise of his own heart rate. While he's been on the receiving end of these looks his whole life, only rarely have they actual been focused on the man instead of the king. The last had been...
Has it really been since he lost Aulea?
He should put an end to this; send Ulric back to his duties before either of them regret it, but he doesn't. Later, perhaps he will blame the lapse on the fact he's feeling the weight of his mortality stronger tonight than he usually does. How many more chances will he get to be a man instead of a king?
Likely as few times as he will have to be a father.
In an effort to push away those morbid thoughts, Regis turns his gaze out at the city, pointedly avoiding anything too near the Wall. He doesn't need more reminders tonight.]
It's been quite some time since I've been able to debate with a friend. Let no one tell you that debates with councilmen are the same. They most certainly are not.
[For a moment he's there with him, those breathtaking eyes on his lips, carefully composed and unaffected but still there. And in the span of a few steps, less than a minute, he's distant again, carefully shuttered away with his thoughts and his caution and Nyx can't help the tension that tightens his jaw, frustration nearly winning out.
He wants to call him on it. Insist that he stop doing the king thing and just be Regis for a little bit. Stop crushing himself under the weight of the crown. ]
Nah I can't imagine it is. Sometimes it's just fun to be contrary to make someone think about their own position, y'know?
[Crowe and Pelna hate it but they're good sports at least. Libertus is the type to argue with his fists, not his words though so he doesn't get to to it with his best friend often.
He eyes the man beside him on the balcony for a moment and then nods slightly, affirming something to himself. Nyx flashes a smile over at Regis and then he's shifting a little closer, hands lifting to the king's shoulders. His motions are smooth but slow, obviously giving Regis the opportunity to tell him off but he's not going to verbally give him an excuse to sneak out of it.
And gradually Nyx unfastens the decorative chains that drape over his chest, the heavy asymmetrical cape, the truly absurd weight of the pauldron that keeps all of it so close to his body.]
[Regis raises an eyebrow as he turns his eyes in Nyx's direction. There's humor in them now, a vast improvement from the soft sadness of a few moments before.]
Perhaps you should lead with that explanation the next time Captain Drautos is asking to have you placed on Wall guard? You never know. It may make a difference. [The joke has barely left his mouth when Regis once more finds his eyes following Nyx closer than they should be. This time the focus is the man's fingers as he works loose the chains keeping his cape in place. It's usually the first piece of his raiment that he sheds when he returns to his rooms, so Regis makes no motion to put a stop to Nyx's actions. When the weight leaves his shoulders, it's all he can do to keep himself from sighing in relief.
He doesn't quite manage to keep the curious voice in the back of his head from wondering why Nyx is so good at working through all the decorative chains and clasps, though.]
You have my thanks. I suppose I do it the same way as you do with your uniform. Too many years of practice and need.
[He snorts softly, rolls his eyes a bit to demonstrate exactly what he thinks of trying to explain to Drautos.
As buckles and chains fall away Nyx hefts the weight of that ornamental armor into his arms, lets thick, heavy fabric come with it. He looks down at it, shakes his head a little and then turns to dump the whole pile unceremoniously onto one of the balcony's chairs.]
There's no need, there. Sure it looks fancy but it's about as useful as peacock feathers.
[Beautiful and extravagant, good for making him seem larger than he is with the bulk of it and the flare of the cape. But there's no function to it.]
Least the decorative parts of mine aren't a hindrance.
[And as he steps back to Regis' side he lets his hands splay against his chest, nudging his shoulders back a little, gently pressing him into squaring up better. Fingers swift and nimble on his body, even through the layers of fabric that still separate them.]
All the weight on that side, and you knee... Just making you more lopsided, Majesty. You'd be more imposing without all the frills. [Which Nyx follows up by stepping up into his space, looking up at the older man with a slow smile, eager and appreciative. Oh yes, much more imposing when he can stand tall, shoulders squared and back straight rather than weighted down so much, forced to stoop to lean into the cane he carries.]
Have you SEEN the way that Iedolas struts around? Of course, there are peacocks in Eo- Oh wait...
It's very warm. I do believe that officially makes it more useful than a peacock's feathers. [As he watches Nyx's 'expert' handling of the cloak, Regis can't help but chuckle, the sound softer than his earlier laughter, but no less amused.]
Congratulations. You just made yourself the enemy of every single on of my chamberlains. I can almost hear them screaming out in disgust at your idea of tender care.
[As if he hasn't done worse to that blasted cape some nights, but it's not like any of them are going to say something to him.]
No frills? You realize that likely would be seen as an act of treason against the Lucis Caelum line. We are quite fond of our dramatics. [Yet, for all that purported love of dramatics, Regis falls suspiciously silent while Nyx's fingers move across his chest and shoulders. It would be easy to shake off the gentle touches, but he doesn't, finding himself more interested in wondering why each light touch leaves behind such a lasting warmth. The things that Nyx mentions are true. Regis is quite aware of how much he favors that side, of how the weight doesn't help. It's to the point that on some days he can't hide it even when in public. It's such a little thing, though, when one has to think of countries and prophecies. What does it matter when soon enough...
And there go his thoughts drifting far too far into the realm of his own mortality again. He's really on a roll tonight.]
Unfortunately, men of my age all tend to be more than a little lopsided.
[At first, Regis fully intends on leaving that statement as it is, but there is something about being the recipient of Nyx's look that makes him feel guilty, as if he's taking something that he has no right to take.]
You should save that smile to share with someone who deserves it.
[Nyx doesn't give a shit if he pisses off some glorified maid by wrinkling his majesty's royal short cape. Fuck that shit. Especially when doing so gets another spark of that exhilarating humor shining in his gaze.
It fades far too quickly though, so much so that Nyx finds himself stepping even closer, pressing himself against the other man. He frowns, an argument in his expression, hovering on his lips as he insists that he's anything like just any old man. But his smile?
That makes him frown harder, worried. One hand lifts to stroke tentative fingers over the sweep of silver hair, the neat cut of his beard, letting his hand rest against his cheek. It's intimate, too much so, forward and demanding in a way he told himself not to be but he doesn't know how to restrain himself that much.]
None so deserving as you... sir.
[The first time he's tacked on the honorific and not meant it to be teasing in some way. He might be forward, but he respects Regis so much, he's not trying to be defiant, not now at least.]
[The tone of that honorific is probably the only thing that keeps Regis from stepping away and ending this right now for both their sakes. It wouldn't be hard. If he ordered Nyx home, as rebellious as the man is, he would go, but what kind of repayment would that be for the honesty he's just been shown, misdirected as it may be?
For far too short a moment, Regis lets himself be weak. His eyes close and he allows himself to feel the comforting weight of the hand against his cheek. He then reaches up and gently pulls that hand away with his free one, locking away the spark of loneliness that suddenly pains his heart.]
Don't do this to yourself, Nyx. Life is too short and this world has already taken too much from you.
[For just a instant he brushes the man's rough fingers against his lips and then lets his hand drop.]
Seek your happiness with one who doesn't linger in life like a ghost.
[There's a moment there, still and quiet, his hand hovering uncertainly between them, fingertips tingling and warm from that soft brush of lips. It's enough to make his heart race and ache all at once.
Too much, too many ghosts that already haunt his days, and even now if he closes his eyes he can hear Selena's screams.
And for as gentle and respectful as he's tried to be, even if his interest has been anything but subtle, the next moment there's something harsh and fierce in his face. Both hands come up to fist into the heavy fabric of his suit and Nyx pushes Regis back, one step then another, a third and there's a chair directly behind him and Nyx is bearing down on him, pushing him down into the chair, bending over him, eyes gone silver with determination.]
I don't think so... sir.
[He shakes his head, eyes bright with emotion, dismissing the older man's request.]
King or no you can command actions and you can command minds but hearts are beyond your control, beyond anyone's control.
[And finally Nyx presses in closer. For all the harshness in his voice the kiss is gentle, soothing and sweet, easing the sting of his words and the fear that swells in his chest at the implications in what Regis said.]
Command it, order me to leave and as your Glaive I will. But that will not change how I feel or how it will hurt. You spare me nothing and inflict nothing but pain on yourself. Heroes don't get to choose who they let mourn them.
[The moment that Nyx's expression shifts toward aggression, magic once more crackles in the air, chilling it around them. If Regis is going to strike out to defend himself, though, the blow never comes and an instant later, he's forced down into the chair, fighting back a wince of pain even as his cane clatters loudly to the floor near their feet.
Hands freed, he raises them both to take hold of Nyx's where they are still tangled in his clothing. Anger flashes in his eyes as they lock with his Glaive's.]
You Astral-damned fool! Do you have any idea what would happen to you if someone saw that? There is only so much I can protect you from!
[A chill still hangs in the air, but there is no tension as if attack may follow. Instead, there is only the gentle rolling of fog that will make it hard for anyone within the Citadel to make out what is happening on the balcony.
Regis is unsettled enough that the order for Nyx to go is nearly on his tongue and then the kiss swallows it, gentleness causing anger to drain away as if it'd never been there. As Nyx pulls back, Regis releases the hold he has on one of the Glaive's hands so he can draw him forward again, resting their foreheads together. When he speaks, his voice sounds tired, but also as open and vulnerable as it has the whole night.]
What am I going to do with you? It's not a hero you speak with, merely a man who has been bound by fate his whole life.
[For a long moment Nyx stays right where he is, letting Regis'hand rest on the back of his neck, holding him close, savoring the warmth of the older man.
Gradually, as his heart finally slows back to a normal rhythm, the anger in Regis' voice and the surge of magic on the air having put him on edge, he shifts his weight.]
They needn't think anything foul is afoot.
[There's a flicker of that cocky smirk once more and then, slowly, Nyx lowers himself to his knees in front of Regis, settling himself between his legs. His hands unclench from the King's clothing, smoothing out the way it's bunched over his chest. It wouldn't look that strange from afar. Scandalous, certainly, but not dangerous. The dashing King with some young eager lover.
And oh how easy it would be to push, now he's in this position. To ask for more than Regis was ready to give.]
Hero is a title that can only be earned by the dead. It's why the others use it with me... because I should be dead, the stunts I've pulled, the things I do. I should be dead.
I'm no more hero than you are. That's the point isn't it? Just two men... this one hoping to make the days he has left a little brighter if only he might ease the burdens carried by one he cares for.
[And Nyx pushes up on his knees, stretches up to brush another light, hopeful kiss to Regis' lips. As he does so one hand slides up over the knee of his King's bad leg, seeking out strained bands of tendons, rolling the heel of his hand slowly over the weakened muscle. A silent apology for the rough handling.]
[The return of that familiar cockiness causes a ghost of a smile to cross Regis' face, but the smile comes no where near lifting the tiredness in his eyes.]
You know it's not that easy. Not with who I am nor with who you are. There are too many who would jump on the chance to have you removed from your position or worse.
[Not to mention he can immediately think of five councilmen would would use any attempt to intercede on Nyx's behalf to weaken Regis' own standing. Politicians show mercy for no one. King or knight. Lover or beloved.
It's the politics of the situation he understands. He's played the game his whole life. This? This he doesn't understand. It's nothing like the relationship he'd had with Aulea. Their love had been born of lifelong friendship, of familiarity, and time spent in each other's company. While it's true that Nyx has been part of the Glaive for a long time now, they have hardly had time to come to know each other. They pass more often than not in silent understanding. Power given; life entrusted.
In the wake of the second gentle kiss, Regis forces himself to stop trying to puzzle the mystery out on his own, and instead takes the path of least resistance--asking the man kneeling before him.]
Your heart could choose any it wished to love.
[He rests his hand gently on the one Nyx is using to message his knee, halting the motion.]
Why would it choose me when you more than most know the price the Crystal demands of me?
[A smirk, all bravado and sarcasm again. He's not entirely sure himself, doesn't know that he has any reason that will satisfy the man before him, certainly not reason enough to satisfy his own traitorous mind.
He's thought about it for years now and only recently begun to accept the fact that the pull there was something beyond his understanding. He could try to logic it out all he wanted but logic had nothing to do with it.]
You think I know the whims of my heart any more than you? I know this is where I want to be. I know I want to know you, not my king but the man who gives so selflessly, who sacrifices so much and bears the weight of his duties so gracefully.
[He shrugs a little, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. It's sappy and he doesn't have a good reason but that doesn't make him yearn any less. His hand lifts, fingers tracing the fine lines of strain the crystal has marked on Regis' face and frowning slightly, leaning in and gently coaxing him to turn his head so he can brush a kiss against those lines.]
I want to see that glimmer of mischief in your eyes more. And I kinda wanna be the one to put it there.
[There's something terribly sad about how hard it is for Regis to accept those gentle touches. Once it had been so easy for him to both give and receive affection. Then he'd lost Aulea and almost lost Noctis. Then Tenebrae had fallen and there was just no time for that kind of thing anymore. Even when Regis found time to reach out to Noctis, the distance between them had only grown. He'd given all he could, and more often than not what he didn't give was taken until...
For the third time this night, Regis lets his eyes fall closed in response to Nyx's touch. Once more he drags himself out of his own mind and forces himself to focus on something infinitely more comforting than the knowledge of the dark future that spreads out in front of them. This is dangerous. A fool's quest. Soon enough Nyx's stint on Wall guard will end and he will return to the front. The Glaive has cheated Death any number of times. His earlier statement was no empty bluff. Will the next time he dances with Death be the one that ends with Regis feeling the magical link between them snap? Where might he be when it happens? A council meeting? Negotiation with visiting dignitaries? Alone in his office doing paperwork?
A soft, vaguely shaky breath slips from his lips and Regis mentally curses himself for how easily he lets himself slip back into his thoughts. There once was a time where he could switch off his mind, but that switch broke long ago.
Still, despite the direction his thoughts run in, when he finally speaks again there's acceptance in his tone. He knows the dangers in this; he knows how unwise it is and he's decided to move forward regardless of the consequences.
Regis opens his eyes, turning them in Nyx's direction without moving his head so that he doesn't disrupt the Glaive's tender actions.]
This is not the path I envisioned you taking when we first met all those years ago.
[Nyx isn't sure how to take the long silence that follows. He's eager to press, to ask, to demand a response. He has to swallow down the nerves and the impatience and let himself really watch for the reaction he does get.
Eyes closed like he's savoring the warmth of the touch and that only urges Nyx to stroke his fingers along the silvered hair at Regis' temple. The way his face relaxes for a moment before his brows slowly knitting in worry again and his fingers splay out, thumb shifting up to smooth over those lines, trying to ease the tension there.]
Yeah, me neither.
[Not apologetic in any way.]
Sure as hell don't regret ending up here though.
[He almost leans in to steal another kiss but he hesitates, pale blue eyes searching green, looking for something in there that's more than resignation but is, in fact, wanting. So much of what has happened his whole life it seems has been decided for him, He doesn't want this to be something that is happening and he simply accepts it, he wants it to be something that Regis wants as well.]
[There is an instant of silence after that statement, but no more since Regis has already made his decision, and he's never gone back on a decision once it's been made. The smile that crosses his face is tired--the soul-deep exhaustion he carries is not something that can be easily fixed if it can be fixed at all--but it is real, and matched with the appearance of that mischievous twinkle in his eyes--the one that Nyx has been looking for all night--it's clear this is no case of passive acceptance. There is a lot about his life and about the life Noctis will face that Regis has had to accept, but this is not something he will be adding to that list of things.]
I would certainly hope not. You're not going to find a better partner in crime than me, I'll have you know.
[Regis turns more fully toward Nyx, raising his hand as if he has every intention of resting it against the Glaive's cheek, but he stops just short of it when he feels that same stabbing guilt from before. The guilt that says he shouldn't be the one accepting or giving Nyx this kind of affection. The man deserves someone closer to his own age; someone who can put him first in everything; someone who can give him a family instead of having to send him off into battle time and time again.
But Nyx has made his heart's choice clear even if both of them lack understanding as to why the choice has been made, and it's that knowledge that lets Regis finally finish the action, brushing his fingertips over warm skin before letting his hand drop to rest on Nyx's shoulder.]
You'll have to forgive me. I'm terribly out of practice when it comes to this kind of thing.
[Somehow, that seems like a massive understatement when it hits Regis' ears. He hasn't even been able to keep his relationship with his own son strong. How will he keep something as complicated as this relationship is bound to be strong?
Then again, Nyx has knowledge of a great many of the things Regis is still doing his best to shield Noctis from. Not everything, but perhaps that knowledge will make the difference.]
[The way he hesitates before finishing that touch makes Nyx's breath catch in his chest. He wants to tip his head, press his face into that near touch. But he also doesn't want to push too much, doesn't want to demand too much.
So he holds his breath, he waits, and he sighs heavily when Regis finally lets his fingers touch his cheek. His lips quirk up in a softer version of that cocky grin, his head tipping to brush his lips lightly over Regis' wrist as his hand falls to his shoulder.]
Yeah? I'm sure you were a hellion, huh? Don't worry. I'll help you practice.
[And the simple action of reaching out to touch in return has Nyx pressing himself tight against the seat of the chair, one hand boldly reaching up to sink into silvered hair, crushing his lips to Regis'. There's such a swell of relief, like a weight's been lifted off his shoulders. Something he's carried for so long.
He kisses him hard, demanding and insistent. Unlike Regis Nyx has no idea how this will play out but, like most things in his life, he's willing to dive in head first. What comes will come and he will meet it head on.
At least this promises to be much more fun than most of his hare brained ideas.]
[Regis' words are interrupted as a pair of lips crash into his--hot, passionate, insistent. Gone is the gentleness from before, burned away in an instant of pure need. When magic thickens the air this time, it's not in threat but in reaction to the rise of emotion in Regis' chest. It's been some time since he's felt such emotion so strongly and it's overwhelming at first, enough that the hand he has Nyx's shoulder, slides down across the Glaive's back and then up to the other shoulder where his fingers dig in so he can use the other man's steady form as an anchor. When he pulls back from the kiss a moment later, it's with a breathless chuckle that has nothing to do with the foolish words he breathes out.]
You're going to have to let me breathe, pup. My lungs are about 20 years older than yours. [Before Nyx can reply, though, Regis leans in to return the favor, claiming the Glaive's lips with his own. For all his concerns of being out of practice, the kiss is every bit as confident and insistent as the one before, though when Regis pulls back this time, it is only by the barest amount, each whispered word causing his lips to brush against Nyx's.]
You only need to remain on your knees if that's really where you wish to be.
[Nyx snorts, a harsh stifled laugh and even that gets cut off as his King claims his mouth again. The softest of groans, barely more than an exhale, but this is precisely what he wanted. It's so satisfying to have the older man pressing into him as well, taking as much as Nyx is.
Between that and the prickle of magic on the air there's part of Nyx that wants to push up against him, crawl into his lap, over him, devour him right here on the balcony. Heat sings through his blood, fingers flexing against Regis' leg, forcibly stilling himself from pushing too hard, too fast.
And then Regis draws back, speaks against his lips and Nyx has to grit his teeth so he doesn't snap at him, latch onto his lip with teeth and do something that would be far too noticeable come morning.]
Oh? This bothering your back already, old man?
[It'd be a more convincing challenge if he weren't already so breathless, if the hand on Regis' thigh weren't already going back to kneading and this time creeping a little higher. But if Regis is going to keep playing up the age difference then Nyx is damn well going to give him shit for it.
And maybe, just maybe, there's something arousing about that too. Shit, he's got it bad.]
[The first response Nyx's gets is the scolding click of tongue behind teeth, but Regis quickly follows that with a laugh.]
What a cheeky thing you are once you've gotten what you want.
[Like he didn't already know that going into this.]
See if I worry about the state of your knees again. [The threat is an empty one, betrayed thoroughly by the fondness in Regis' eyes and the gentleness of the fingers that comes to rest against Nyx's cheek.]
It pains me that you have to hold back for my sake, though I cannot thank you enough for doing it.
[Regis' free hand finds the one that is so bravely creeping up his leg and brings it to his lips, so he can press a kiss to it.]
I will make it worth your wait. Come. Lets move this to my quarters so we both can relax and worry not about who might come across us.
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hardbargain) wrote2018-11-08 08:23 pm
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His stride falters a moment, leg aching after day that has been too long. Regis wishes there was a way he could be out there with them instead of stuck here, but he also knows he would be no help. His body is not what it once was years ago. Some days it's a struggle to get from one end of the Citadel to the other, though he does all he can to hide that. He needs to look strong for his country and people.
For Noctis as well, even though he sees his son so rarely anymore.
Despite all that is on his mind, when Regis nears the balcony, he instinctively senses the presence there. His reaction would be stronger if he didn't also feel the pull on his magic. His visitor is not an enemy lurking where no one should be, but one of his trusted Kingsglaive.
One specific Glaivesman, actually, and the realization draws an amused smile to his lips before he lets his face settle back into a mask of regal seriousness.
His footsteps come to a halt several paces back from the open balcony, and as they do, Regis can almost hear Clarus' voice speaking a warning in his head. He may be within the heavily guarded Citadel, but his guards are still human and humans make mistakes.
Honestly, the warnings get old sometimes, but he has a country and a people to think of. He can't take risks, even if they are small ones.]
Did I miss the memo warning of a threat made against my balcony, Glaive Ulric? For surely, there is no other reason for you to be lingering here when your own bed must be calling.
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Two steps into the open doorway, moonlight framing him, uniform jacket discarded, down to leather pants and foil printed tee as he moves back a few more steps, arms spread behind him, gripping the railing of the balcony, the night breeze sending his braids skittering over his shoulders.]
Not at all, Majesty.
[Light, playful, the grin evident in his voice even if the dramatic back lighting casts most of his face in shadows.]
Your balcony's quite safe, the threat is to you, yourself, sir.
[Words he knows damn well will put Regis on edge so he raises one hand, a halting gesture, something to quiet the questions or protests.]
Because I'm pretty sure if you don't come out here and appreciate the view of your city and this gorgeous night that stick up your ass is going to become fatal. Such a shame, already claimed your Shield, what about you?
[A laugh, a nod, holding his hand out in offering.]
Don't tell me you've lost all your spirit....
..... sir.
[Just challenging enough that he desperately hopes Regis will have to take him up on it. A calculated risk, he can tell himself that but he knows damn well the calculations ended at getting here, not whatever his stupid mouth came up with.]
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Magic thickens the air just for a moment and then Nyx continues. The way that magic fades from the air again is the first sign that Nyx didn't miscalculate this particular risk. The second comes more suddenly than the first when Regis lifts a hand to rest it against his chest as he lets out a choked, and frankly unregal, laugh.
Once the laugh passes, more quickly than Nyx probably wishes, Regis has to clear his throat before speaking.]
If you truly wish permanent Wall guard duty, I suspect there are far less painful ways to achieve your goal. For your own good, I hope my Shield doesn't catch wind of you having said that.
[Regis' voice is so grave that telling how serious that warning is would be impossible if it wasn't for the twinkle in his eyes. He moves forward a few more steps, those steps bringing him even with the balcony's opening.]
You do realize if I step out there, you are on duty again. My life is in your hands. Spirit is, unfortunately, a poor shield against assassins.
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[A wicked bit of challenge in the words, lips curving up into a smirk. Clarus would murder him, this is true. But the only person Clarus could possibly learn it from is Regis.
Nyx is only just close enough to see that spark, the bit of mischief that he's seen before, that made him confident that Regis would appreciate a bit of fun. If there's a bit of a thrill in it, in seeing the King himself let lose just a little, well. Regis is a very attractive man.
The hesitation makes the smug smile slip a little, has Nyx stepping away from the railing, crossing the balcony to stand directly in front of Regis. It's an old, outdated show of respect, the way he bows, takes Regis' hand and brushes his lips over his knuckles. A gesture of honor, of loyalty, fealty sworn to his liege. There is no question that on duty or off he would sacrifice everything for his king.
It should be the ring he kisses but the chance to feel warm skin under his lips is a little too enticing for him to pass up. Pale blue eyes lift to meet green, the soft light of the moon making them look silver, reflective like some predatory animal. And then he smirks again, rolling his shoulder in a casual shrug.]
Got it all wrong, Majesty. It's that spirit we should be shielding. C'mon.
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[Of course, that statement takes a bit of unintended meaning when Nyx bows and presses his lips Regis' hand. It's a surprising show of respect, outdated as it may be. Regis has never minded the fact the practice fell away for most people would do it merely as an expected symbolic act. It would mean little or nothing and he's never had time for such things.
This is the complete opposite of that and Regis can't help but let his eyes fall shut a moment as those warm lips press against his skin. His opens his eyes again just in time catch that predatory look, and suddenly finds himself happy that he's learned to school his expression enough that no blush has a hope of crossing his face. His eyes soften, though.]
Is that so?
[Despite the his words, Regis doesn't resist being led out onto the balcony any longer.]
Why do I get the impression there are many things that you would like to correct my views on?
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That predatory gaze goes hot and fierce for a fleeting moment. Less passive, less observing a hunter and more being the hunted. For one wild moment even Nyx isn't sure what he wants to do, what he will do. Green eyes flicker back to his face and go soft, gentle and wise and he has to lick his lips, slow and hungry and force down the parts of himself that want to pounce. It would be so easy. Forget the balcony there's a dozen pieces of furniture he could press Regis to, feel the body he is damn confident is nowhere near as weak as he might allow people to suppose.
Slowly he straightens again, the act clearly one that takes a great deal of willpower. His hand never leaves Regis' though, guiding him out into the moonlight carefully measured steps, pale gaze bright and alert. Nothing will get the drop on them, at least. ]
Correct? I wouldn't presume to correct the King. But I sure wouldn't mind a debate or two with a new... [A pause, gaze just as heated and eager as a moment before.] ... friend.
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Has it really been since he lost Aulea?
He should put an end to this; send Ulric back to his duties before either of them regret it, but he doesn't. Later, perhaps he will blame the lapse on the fact he's feeling the weight of his mortality stronger tonight than he usually does. How many more chances will he get to be a man instead of a king?
Likely as few times as he will have to be a father.
In an effort to push away those morbid thoughts, Regis turns his gaze out at the city, pointedly avoiding anything too near the Wall. He doesn't need more reminders tonight.]
It's been quite some time since I've been able to debate with a friend. Let no one tell you that debates with councilmen are the same. They most certainly are not.
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He wants to call him on it. Insist that he stop doing the king thing and just be Regis for a little bit. Stop crushing himself under the weight of the crown. ]
Nah I can't imagine it is. Sometimes it's just fun to be contrary to make someone think about their own position, y'know?
[Crowe and Pelna hate it but they're good sports at least. Libertus is the type to argue with his fists, not his words though so he doesn't get to to it with his best friend often.
He eyes the man beside him on the balcony for a moment and then nods slightly, affirming something to himself. Nyx flashes a smile over at Regis and then he's shifting a little closer, hands lifting to the king's shoulders. His motions are smooth but slow, obviously giving Regis the opportunity to tell him off but he's not going to verbally give him an excuse to sneak out of it.
And gradually Nyx unfastens the decorative chains that drape over his chest, the heavy asymmetrical cape, the truly absurd weight of the pauldron that keeps all of it so close to his body.]
Dunno how you move at all with all this crap.
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[Regis raises an eyebrow as he turns his eyes in Nyx's direction. There's humor in them now, a vast improvement from the soft sadness of a few moments before.]
Perhaps you should lead with that explanation the next time Captain Drautos is asking to have you placed on Wall guard? You never know. It may make a difference.
[The joke has barely left his mouth when Regis once more finds his eyes following Nyx closer than they should be. This time the focus is the man's fingers as he works loose the chains keeping his cape in place. It's usually the first piece of his raiment that he sheds when he returns to his rooms, so Regis makes no motion to put a stop to Nyx's actions. When the weight leaves his shoulders, it's all he can do to keep himself from sighing in relief.
He doesn't quite manage to keep the curious voice in the back of his head from wondering why Nyx is so good at working through all the decorative chains and clasps, though.]
You have my thanks. I suppose I do it the same way as you do with your uniform. Too many years of practice and need.
shut up they have peacocks in Eos now.
As buckles and chains fall away Nyx hefts the weight of that ornamental armor into his arms, lets thick, heavy fabric come with it. He looks down at it, shakes his head a little and then turns to dump the whole pile unceremoniously onto one of the balcony's chairs.]
There's no need, there. Sure it looks fancy but it's about as useful as peacock feathers.
[Beautiful and extravagant, good for making him seem larger than he is with the bulk of it and the flare of the cape. But there's no function to it.]
Least the decorative parts of mine aren't a hindrance.
[And as he steps back to Regis' side he lets his hands splay against his chest, nudging his shoulders back a little, gently pressing him into squaring up better. Fingers swift and nimble on his body, even through the layers of fabric that still separate them.]
All the weight on that side, and you knee... Just making you more lopsided, Majesty. You'd be more imposing without all the frills. [Which Nyx follows up by stepping up into his space, looking up at the older man with a slow smile, eager and appreciative. Oh yes, much more imposing when he can stand tall, shoulders squared and back straight rather than weighted down so much, forced to stoop to lean into the cane he carries.]
Have you SEEN the way that Iedolas struts around? Of course, there are peacocks in Eo- Oh wait...
[As he watches Nyx's 'expert' handling of the cloak, Regis can't help but chuckle, the sound softer than his earlier laughter, but no less amused.]
Congratulations. You just made yourself the enemy of every single on of my chamberlains. I can almost hear them screaming out in disgust at your idea of tender care.
[As if he hasn't done worse to that blasted cape some nights, but it's not like any of them are going to say something to him.]
No frills? You realize that likely would be seen as an act of treason against the Lucis Caelum line. We are quite fond of our dramatics.
[Yet, for all that purported love of dramatics, Regis falls suspiciously silent while Nyx's fingers move across his chest and shoulders. It would be easy to shake off the gentle touches, but he doesn't, finding himself more interested in wondering why each light touch leaves behind such a lasting warmth. The things that Nyx mentions are true. Regis is quite aware of how much he favors that side, of how the weight doesn't help. It's to the point that on some days he can't hide it even when in public. It's such a little thing, though, when one has to think of countries and prophecies. What does it matter when soon enough...
And there go his thoughts drifting far too far into the realm of his own mortality again. He's really on a roll tonight.]
Unfortunately, men of my age all tend to be more than a little lopsided.
[At first, Regis fully intends on leaving that statement as it is, but there is something about being the recipient of Nyx's look that makes him feel guilty, as if he's taking something that he has no right to take.]
You should save that smile to share with someone who deserves it.
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It fades far too quickly though, so much so that Nyx finds himself stepping even closer, pressing himself against the other man. He frowns, an argument in his expression, hovering on his lips as he insists that he's anything like just any old man. But his smile?
That makes him frown harder, worried. One hand lifts to stroke tentative fingers over the sweep of silver hair, the neat cut of his beard, letting his hand rest against his cheek. It's intimate, too much so, forward and demanding in a way he told himself not to be but he doesn't know how to restrain himself that much.]
None so deserving as you... sir.
[The first time he's tacked on the honorific and not meant it to be teasing in some way. He might be forward, but he respects Regis so much, he's not trying to be defiant, not now at least.]
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For far too short a moment, Regis lets himself be weak. His eyes close and he allows himself to feel the comforting weight of the hand against his cheek. He then reaches up and gently pulls that hand away with his free one, locking away the spark of loneliness that suddenly pains his heart.]
Don't do this to yourself, Nyx. Life is too short and this world has already taken too much from you.
[For just a instant he brushes the man's rough fingers against his lips and then lets his hand drop.]
Seek your happiness with one who doesn't linger in life like a ghost.
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Too much, too many ghosts that already haunt his days, and even now if he closes his eyes he can hear Selena's screams.
And for as gentle and respectful as he's tried to be, even if his interest has been anything but subtle, the next moment there's something harsh and fierce in his face. Both hands come up to fist into the heavy fabric of his suit and Nyx pushes Regis back, one step then another, a third and there's a chair directly behind him and Nyx is bearing down on him, pushing him down into the chair, bending over him, eyes gone silver with determination.]
I don't think so... sir.
[He shakes his head, eyes bright with emotion, dismissing the older man's request.]
King or no you can command actions and you can command minds but hearts are beyond your control, beyond anyone's control.
[And finally Nyx presses in closer. For all the harshness in his voice the kiss is gentle, soothing and sweet, easing the sting of his words and the fear that swells in his chest at the implications in what Regis said.]
Command it, order me to leave and as your Glaive I will. But that will not change how I feel or how it will hurt. You spare me nothing and inflict nothing but pain on yourself. Heroes don't get to choose who they let mourn them.
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Hands freed, he raises them both to take hold of Nyx's where they are still tangled in his clothing. Anger flashes in his eyes as they lock with his Glaive's.]
You Astral-damned fool! Do you have any idea what would happen to you if someone saw that? There is only so much I can protect you from!
[A chill still hangs in the air, but there is no tension as if attack may follow. Instead, there is only the gentle rolling of fog that will make it hard for anyone within the Citadel to make out what is happening on the balcony.
Regis is unsettled enough that the order for Nyx to go is nearly on his tongue and then the kiss swallows it, gentleness causing anger to drain away as if it'd never been there. As Nyx pulls back, Regis releases the hold he has on one of the Glaive's hands so he can draw him forward again, resting their foreheads together. When he speaks, his voice sounds tired, but also as open and vulnerable as it has the whole night.]
What am I going to do with you? It's not a hero you speak with, merely a man who has been bound by fate his whole life.
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Gradually, as his heart finally slows back to a normal rhythm, the anger in Regis' voice and the surge of magic on the air having put him on edge, he shifts his weight.]
They needn't think anything foul is afoot.
[There's a flicker of that cocky smirk once more and then, slowly, Nyx lowers himself to his knees in front of Regis, settling himself between his legs. His hands unclench from the King's clothing, smoothing out the way it's bunched over his chest. It wouldn't look that strange from afar. Scandalous, certainly, but not dangerous. The dashing King with some young eager lover.
And oh how easy it would be to push, now he's in this position. To ask for more than Regis was ready to give.]
Hero is a title that can only be earned by the dead. It's why the others use it with me... because I should be dead, the stunts I've pulled, the things I do. I should be dead.
I'm no more hero than you are. That's the point isn't it? Just two men... this one hoping to make the days he has left a little brighter if only he might ease the burdens carried by one he cares for.
[And Nyx pushes up on his knees, stretches up to brush another light, hopeful kiss to Regis' lips. As he does so one hand slides up over the knee of his King's bad leg, seeking out strained bands of tendons, rolling the heel of his hand slowly over the weakened muscle. A silent apology for the rough handling.]
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You know it's not that easy. Not with who I am nor with who you are. There are too many who would jump on the chance to have you removed from your position or worse.
[Not to mention he can immediately think of five councilmen would would use any attempt to intercede on Nyx's behalf to weaken Regis' own standing. Politicians show mercy for no one. King or knight. Lover or beloved.
It's the politics of the situation he understands. He's played the game his whole life. This? This he doesn't understand. It's nothing like the relationship he'd had with Aulea. Their love had been born of lifelong friendship, of familiarity, and time spent in each other's company. While it's true that Nyx has been part of the Glaive for a long time now, they have hardly had time to come to know each other. They pass more often than not in silent understanding. Power given; life entrusted.
In the wake of the second gentle kiss, Regis forces himself to stop trying to puzzle the mystery out on his own, and instead takes the path of least resistance--asking the man kneeling before him.]
Your heart could choose any it wished to love.
[He rests his hand gently on the one Nyx is using to message his knee, halting the motion.]
Why would it choose me when you more than most know the price the Crystal demands of me?
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[A smirk, all bravado and sarcasm again. He's not entirely sure himself, doesn't know that he has any reason that will satisfy the man before him, certainly not reason enough to satisfy his own traitorous mind.
He's thought about it for years now and only recently begun to accept the fact that the pull there was something beyond his understanding. He could try to logic it out all he wanted but logic had nothing to do with it.]
You think I know the whims of my heart any more than you? I know this is where I want to be. I know I want to know you, not my king but the man who gives so selflessly, who sacrifices so much and bears the weight of his duties so gracefully.
[He shrugs a little, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. It's sappy and he doesn't have a good reason but that doesn't make him yearn any less. His hand lifts, fingers tracing the fine lines of strain the crystal has marked on Regis' face and frowning slightly, leaning in and gently coaxing him to turn his head so he can brush a kiss against those lines.]
I want to see that glimmer of mischief in your eyes more. And I kinda wanna be the one to put it there.
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For the third time this night, Regis lets his eyes fall closed in response to Nyx's touch. Once more he drags himself out of his own mind and forces himself to focus on something infinitely more comforting than the knowledge of the dark future that spreads out in front of them. This is dangerous. A fool's quest. Soon enough Nyx's stint on Wall guard will end and he will return to the front. The Glaive has cheated Death any number of times. His earlier statement was no empty bluff. Will the next time he dances with Death be the one that ends with Regis feeling the magical link between them snap? Where might he be when it happens? A council meeting? Negotiation with visiting dignitaries? Alone in his office doing paperwork?
A soft, vaguely shaky breath slips from his lips and Regis mentally curses himself for how easily he lets himself slip back into his thoughts. There once was a time where he could switch off his mind, but that switch broke long ago.
Still, despite the direction his thoughts run in, when he finally speaks again there's acceptance in his tone. He knows the dangers in this; he knows how unwise it is and he's decided to move forward regardless of the consequences.
Regis opens his eyes, turning them in Nyx's direction without moving his head so that he doesn't disrupt the Glaive's tender actions.]
This is not the path I envisioned you taking when we first met all those years ago.
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Eyes closed like he's savoring the warmth of the touch and that only urges Nyx to stroke his fingers along the silvered hair at Regis' temple. The way his face relaxes for a moment before his brows slowly knitting in worry again and his fingers splay out, thumb shifting up to smooth over those lines, trying to ease the tension there.]
Yeah, me neither.
[Not apologetic in any way.]
Sure as hell don't regret ending up here though.
[He almost leans in to steal another kiss but he hesitates, pale blue eyes searching green, looking for something in there that's more than resignation but is, in fact, wanting. So much of what has happened his whole life it seems has been decided for him, He doesn't want this to be something that is happening and he simply accepts it, he wants it to be something that Regis wants as well.]
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I would certainly hope not. You're not going to find a better partner in crime than me, I'll have you know.
[Regis turns more fully toward Nyx, raising his hand as if he has every intention of resting it against the Glaive's cheek, but he stops just short of it when he feels that same stabbing guilt from before. The guilt that says he shouldn't be the one accepting or giving Nyx this kind of affection. The man deserves someone closer to his own age; someone who can put him first in everything; someone who can give him a family instead of having to send him off into battle time and time again.
But Nyx has made his heart's choice clear even if both of them lack understanding as to why the choice has been made, and it's that knowledge that lets Regis finally finish the action, brushing his fingertips over warm skin before letting his hand drop to rest on Nyx's shoulder.]
You'll have to forgive me. I'm terribly out of practice when it comes to this kind of thing.
[Somehow, that seems like a massive understatement when it hits Regis' ears. He hasn't even been able to keep his relationship with his own son strong. How will he keep something as complicated as this relationship is bound to be strong?
Then again, Nyx has knowledge of a great many of the things Regis is still doing his best to shield Noctis from. Not everything, but perhaps that knowledge will make the difference.]
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So he holds his breath, he waits, and he sighs heavily when Regis finally lets his fingers touch his cheek. His lips quirk up in a softer version of that cocky grin, his head tipping to brush his lips lightly over Regis' wrist as his hand falls to his shoulder.]
Yeah? I'm sure you were a hellion, huh? Don't worry. I'll help you practice.
[And the simple action of reaching out to touch in return has Nyx pressing himself tight against the seat of the chair, one hand boldly reaching up to sink into silvered hair, crushing his lips to Regis'. There's such a swell of relief, like a weight's been lifted off his shoulders. Something he's carried for so long.
He kisses him hard, demanding and insistent. Unlike Regis Nyx has no idea how this will play out but, like most things in his life, he's willing to dive in head first. What comes will come and he will meet it head on.
At least this promises to be much more fun than most of his hare brained ideas.]
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[Regis' words are interrupted as a pair of lips crash into his--hot, passionate, insistent. Gone is the gentleness from before, burned away in an instant of pure need. When magic thickens the air this time, it's not in threat but in reaction to the rise of emotion in Regis' chest. It's been some time since he's felt such emotion so strongly and it's overwhelming at first, enough that the hand he has Nyx's shoulder, slides down across the Glaive's back and then up to the other shoulder where his fingers dig in so he can use the other man's steady form as an anchor. When he pulls back from the kiss a moment later, it's with a breathless chuckle that has nothing to do with the foolish words he breathes out.]
You're going to have to let me breathe, pup. My lungs are about 20 years older than yours.
[Before Nyx can reply, though, Regis leans in to return the favor, claiming the Glaive's lips with his own. For all his concerns of being out of practice, the kiss is every bit as confident and insistent as the one before, though when Regis pulls back this time, it is only by the barest amount, each whispered word causing his lips to brush against Nyx's.]
You only need to remain on your knees if that's really where you wish to be.
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Between that and the prickle of magic on the air there's part of Nyx that wants to push up against him, crawl into his lap, over him, devour him right here on the balcony. Heat sings through his blood, fingers flexing against Regis' leg, forcibly stilling himself from pushing too hard, too fast.
And then Regis draws back, speaks against his lips and Nyx has to grit his teeth so he doesn't snap at him, latch onto his lip with teeth and do something that would be far too noticeable come morning.]
Oh? This bothering your back already, old man?
[It'd be a more convincing challenge if he weren't already so breathless, if the hand on Regis' thigh weren't already going back to kneading and this time creeping a little higher. But if Regis is going to keep playing up the age difference then Nyx is damn well going to give him shit for it.
And maybe, just maybe, there's something arousing about that too. Shit, he's got it bad.]
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What a cheeky thing you are once you've gotten what you want.
[Like he didn't already know that going into this.]
See if I worry about the state of your knees again.
[The threat is an empty one, betrayed thoroughly by the fondness in Regis' eyes and the gentleness of the fingers that comes to rest against Nyx's cheek.]
It pains me that you have to hold back for my sake, though I cannot thank you enough for doing it.
[Regis' free hand finds the one that is so bravely creeping up his leg and brings it to his lips, so he can press a kiss to it.]
I will make it worth your wait. Come. Lets move this to my quarters so we both can relax and worry not about who might come across us.
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Welp, since Someone's finally decided to commit better get a [SMUT WARNING] on this!
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