meridio | (Awash & Hugtopia) IC contact

Got it... he looks awesome.

[Somnus could have a hamster and he'd love it, honestly, because animals are all great, but there's no denying that some are much cooler than others. This falcon looks like the kind of bird a hunter king would have around.]

Dare I ask if he's friendly?

Falcons are excitable creatures. He does not yet know you and will respond accordingly.

[Hamsters are much less likely to tear through Noctis' spine when provoked. Somnus watches Noctis. On the other hand, Noctis does look as he did in his youth. Perhaps that'll work to their advantage if there's interest in interacting with the bird.]

...That's fair.

[He's gotten a few pecks from some rambunctious chocobos during his travels, so the idea of getting chewed on or flapped at doesn't scare him. He'd much rather not discomfort the bird though, either.

As a middle ground, he slowly offers his hand out- the one with the brace, knuckles forward and unprotected fingers curled in. Falcons are better handled with a glove, anyway, and whatever it can dish out, he's absolutely had worse.]

[The falcon squawks at Noctis' approach, but the indignant spread of his beak halts and closes after a long look at Noctis' face. Gingerly, with eyes never once leaving the faintly familiar visage, he steps onto the exposed fist. Step by step, he climbs onto the bracer as far as his leash allows, giving another incredulous squawk as he flaps his wings.

Behind Noctis, Somnus continues to watch the scene unfold.]

[Noctis admittedly has little experience with birds, so he's very careful, holding his arm out to give Horus space to flap as he wishes and not get his own face too close. He rather likes it the way it is, sans pecking or clawing. He's not sure what else to do, if it's normal to just hang out and let it perch, but this is... cool. Very cool. He has a falcon on his arm. That's like, ingrained badassery, or something.]

Are you supposed to look them in the eyes, or avoid it? I know some animals don't like that.

[Noctis doesn't really have to do anything, other than to feel maybe a little cool. Preoccupied with the familiar face, the falcon continues to stare in every direction at Noctis and the space around him.]

Doing it for a time will cause no harm.

[No one—not even people—likes being looked in the eyes for a sustained period of time. It's a survival instinct as much a matter of personality.]

Makes sense.

[So he does, for a moment, to get a feel for the falcon's mood, before he at last draws his right hand out of his pocket and holds it up. He watches, approaching slowly, and if Horus is disturbed he'll pull back again. If not, he'll brave an attempt to stroke the breast feathers- not too close to the beak, but where it can clearly see his fingers.

He tries to put on his best Somnus-face as he does it. If that helps.]

[Probably, because birds are not equipped to deal with timeline shenanigans. If nothing else, Horus is too baffled to lash out, though he does sound off with a moderate cry here and there. Noctis' careful touch is otherwise met with little resistance.

Standing toward the back, Somnus naturally has no idea what Noctis is doing with his face. And that's most likely for the best.]

[He's kind of stunned (but happily so) he managed to get away with this much, and yeah, the similar features are his best guess as to why. He won't push his luck too far; after a handful of gentle strokes, he draws back and stretches his arm out to let the falcon return to his perch if he so chooses, other hand dropping to his side.]

He's amazing. Thanks for letting me try that.

[Wild and a bit prickly- fitting, for their family. Or at least for certain members.]

[Horus returns to the perch without once letting Noctis out of his almost scandalized sight. He's watching, pal.]

He was the one who allowed it.

[Somnus leads Noctis out of the room to the living area. Now that the bird has been squared away, they can address this unexpected visit.]

What brings you here?

[Dammit, he doesn't want to talk about that. He wants to stand around fussing over birds for at least another hour. He's so much better with animals than people or his own self-inflicted drama.

...Somnus is bad at smalltalk though, and he's only marginally better, so with a somewhat reluctant exhale,]

Just, uh. This happened.

[He lifts his right hand, palm inward, the Ring of the Lucii on display on his finger at last.]

Figured you'd want to know.

[All this time, that hand was concealed from Somnus' view. Now that Noctis shows it, his eyes are drawn to the ring.

His first thought is that there's a disconnect between himself and the two rings present in Aellyn. Neither belongs to his point in time; his sits on the finger of a king aged in body only. The sole set of eyes he has in the city is his own, because he didn't feel the moment Noctis slipped the ring on here.

His second thought, which is accompanied by a dull ache in his heart, is that it's much too soon.]

Do you hear the whispers?

[Noctis winces, the reaction unsubtle and giving him away before he even responds. Of course Somnus would know that part- he's one of those voices, in there somewhere. Or some fragment of him is, anyway.]

I hear them. It's... mostly just noise I don't know what to do with yet.

[What's equally obvious is how unsettled he is by it. The whispers aren't overwhelming - in fact they've quieted down a lot compared to what it was like when he'd touch it without putting it on - but still there, creeping up on him unexpected.]

You need not know at once. The ring is yours and will stay with you.

[Noctis has too much on his mind to scramble where the Ring of Light is concerned. No one here has designs on it. At the same time, the voices within are persistent, so wearing it won't be easy.]

I can't even do anything here. Not what I'm supposed to, anyway. [He gives his hand a wave, as if that'll help somehow.] Go back to sleep already.

[Yeah, that's about as helpful as he'd expected, with zero results. He sighs faintly.]

Should I be doing something? What would you be telling me, if you were still in there?

[A roundabout way of asking "what next", but Somnus is the only one here and available, so he's the lucky one.]

We do not sleep. [He glances at the ring.] Nor do we forget.

[What's next is obvious, but irrelevant. All they can ask of their bearer here is to remember. Only, Noctis knows so little of what's to come . . . Considering that, what would he say?]

When you have need of us, call upon our power.

[He doesn't particularly like that. It's... noisy, and distracting more often than not. He can't really begrudge them wanting to talk when given the chance, if it's all they can do aside from watch whatever exists around the ring, but still... how the hell his dad ever gets anything done is beyond him.]

Cor said I shouldn't wear it all the time, that it's okay to take it off sometimes until I get used to it. I don't know if I can do that, though. It's...

[He flexes his hand into a fist a few times, wincing as if he feels the phantom pain of that first time. It had been awful. Not even the worst of daemon fights had hurt him like that- as if his entire body had wrenched itself apart, like something was peeling his insides in layers. His dad had been so worried, so it can't be normal.

What if it's like that every time?]

[One would have to be blind to miss that wince. For Somnus, it's easy to guess at why.

He was there the first time Noctis put the ring on in his own past. Though he wasn't there for the second years down the road, he still felt a distant connection amid the haze of madness that had robbed him of his mind. Consequently, he knows the answer to what Noctis is surely wondering.]

Putting it on again will not hurt you.

[He shouldn't be surprised - either by Somnus knowing the question in his heart, or knowing the answer - but still, his eyes widen despite himself.]

...Just a one-time deal, huh?

[If that's true, then... god, what a burden off his shoulders. Cor was right- wearing it constantly is exhausting, but the fear of having to put it on again is awful as well. If he can ease the weight of it around his finger once in a while, maybe he'll be able to endure it. He'll still carry it - he'd promised Luna as much, and it's his responsibility - but if he doesn't have to wear it...

He's not as strong as his father, or the other kings. Not yet. But he's got some time.]

[Fear is a powerful motivator. It's also an inhibitor, detrimentally so in this case. Somnus nods. That's one less thing for Noctis to worry about in a sea of concerns.]

Wear it as you see fit.

Hear me, Noctis: kings are neither born nor created overnight. Our power as rulers comes from the Crystal and the people who stand beside us. Time is precious, but the weight of the ring cannot be borne alone.

[Keep it on or take it off once in a while. Either way, Noctis will grow stronger in time with the help of his brothers and line. He mustn't compare himself to his predecessors at their prime.]

[Sounds like something his dad would say. Or maybe it's something his dad did say, and he's only failed to remember it. He wonders how much from the dead kings have resonated throughout all of his lessons growing up. Wisdom handed down through the ring from ruler to ruler, learning from the mistakes or the decisions made in eras long gone. Whose words were they?

The fingers of his free hand fiddles with the ring a little, turning it around, looking torn like he wants to take it off here and now. Still undecided. Finally, he mumbles,]

Can I... learn how to listen?

[Is it possible to hear the words amidst all that cacophony, to catch snippets and small phrases and understand what his ancestors are so desperate for him to know? If they were in front of him, sharing their lives and offering advice, the way Somnus and Ardyn and his father can here- he'd listen, mostly. As much as he does with anyone.

And if he were trapped in a ring for centuries with a collective of other souls vying for attention, waiting for the future to come and free them, he'd want someone to hear him, too.]

[The temptation of choice is powerful yet paralyzing. Somnus stares down at the ring again before meeting Noctis' gaze. Whatever happens, he resolves to refrain from passing judgment.

With circumstances being what they are, a willing ear would be akin to a peculiar blessing for the rulers of yore. They, too, must realize this from within the ring's vast emptiness, in which case Somnus has only one suggestion to impart.]

Listen, and they will speak.

[So... maybe it's less about learning, and more just putting the effort in. It sounds so outrageously simple, but isn't that a blessing, rather than whatever new burden he'd been trying to place on himself? It's so rare that anything in his life ever gets to be easy. He can listen. Or he can take the ring off and enjoy some semblance of peace for a while. With no immediate duty to attend to, only a lingering fear of what the future might bring, he has time.

It's like a weight shrugging off his back all over again, similar to before but with a risen intensity. That freedom, for once, is his. And twice in short succession, it's been Somnus who granted him this boon. The word of the Founder King, the one who's guided their line since its inception, means a great deal it turns out. Advice he can take to heart.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, and stops fiddling with the ring. And then, before he can stop himself or change his mind, he strides forward and leans, winding his arms around Somnus and pulling him in.

Don't make it weird, don't make it weird, he begs silently. This is new for him, this whole... being allowed. But he'd promised to try.]

[His body is slack against Noctis as he processes the contact. They were speaking of the previous sovereigns just now. If anybody, it should be Somnus who holds Noctis' hands in his own out of gratitude for that kind, dutiful heart. Several beats pass before he raises a hand to hover over Noctis.

The burden of the ring and the prophecy it entails is heavy, and heavier still while the truth comes out one by one. Aellyn is a respite from this fate, but it ever looms over them. All of them have felt the stress pressing in on them over the course of their collective existence in the city—Noctis, most of all.

Warm affirmations have never been his strong suit. When he speaks as a leader, he seizes the faith of those who would follow him; as a person, he's clumsy and inspires little confidence, culturing only misunderstandings. But a thousand spoken words can accompany a single action, and so he turns to that familiar silence as he rests his hand on Noctis' head.]

[...Well. It's a little weird, initially, and he's a heartbeat away from pulling back before Somnus lifts a hand to his hair. It's enough to make him pause, remaining in place longer than he'd intended, just a few extra moments until he draws away once more.]

...Maybe don't tell Pyra.

[His voice is clumsy, a bit sheepish. It's not that he minds if she knows, but she'd smile and get that look on her face and- yeah.

Still, he's grateful, head ducked to conceal the little smile that betrays him.]

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