adelphoi | (no subject)

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[ never before has alisaie so deeply, keenly known what it is to feel bittersweet.

arriving on hydaelyn again, surrounded by the familiar walls of the rising stones, eorzea's peoples and lands safe, restored, full - is it not what she had dreamt of since first she awoke in that icy pod? since she looked out over a wide vista of stars and attempted to process the fact that her home was gone? mourning an entire world had been a monumental effort, and when the news had come that their homes could yet be salvaged she had never been more relieved.

that relief, of course, had been soon followed by a sweeping despair. they were to return home, and only home, the natha had a duty to fulfill, to see to it that everything was restored exactly as it was, no exception, no compromise. for the greater good, they had insisted, and alisaie's heart had broken clean in two. she had made so many connections, so many close friends, she had carved a life out for herself on el nysa and -

- and prompto. to lose him forever was an ache she could not bear. she had already lost so much, so many, and to lose him.. of course she fought. she railed and shouted herself hoarse, she petitioned the natha again and again, begged, but they would not be moved. and so she was home again, surrounded by familiar walls and familiar friends, but on her clothing she could still smell prompto's skin, the sensation of his last kiss clinging to her mouth like a ghost.

a week of stunned grieving was all she allowed herself, but alisaie would not be defeated. traveling to other worlds.. it is possible, she has seen it done. the ascians, the warriors of the first - all had traveled between the planes, and alisaie was entirely certain, with all of her heart, that his eos was one of the many echoes, the worlds connected to her own by the sundering of the mothercrystal. prompto was gone and yet he still somehow felt so very close, just out of reach of her touch, her voice, her heart.

the pregnancy, of course, had been.. entirely unexpected. the natha had rendered them sterile, but she can only assume that they had reversed it some time before their restoration of their homes, long enough for him to quicken within her womb and leave her with a soul to remember him by, a sweet child with her own dark eyes and prompto's fair hair, and smile, and laugh that breaks her heart to hear. but gods she loves him, this little sunshine boy who thrives on touch and love, who sleeps well and smiles often and gives her the extra drive she needs to work, to finish, to find the way to drive open the doorway between their worlds. it is unstable, and unable to linger for long, it is entirely possible that this is a one-way trip, that she will never be able to find her way back, and that is all that stalls her. prompto is her heart, her husband, the mother of her child - but hydaelyn is her home, her family is here, and the thought of leaving her brother behind forever, leaving urianger, and the scions..

gods, it is nearly enough to unmake her, to convince her to abandon her work.

but they remind her, all of them, that prompto too is her family, that their child deserves to know his father, that if she does not make this step she will never see him again. she will.. simply have to do it again, to find a way to keep the doorway open. and if she has not, at least she has said her goodbyes, she has made her peace, and decided what it is that she needs.

and so that is what brings her here at last, to eos, where the air is thick with darkness, where the aether is in upheaval. gods, this is the home he had returned to? this is where he has been? the atmosphere is heady and oppressive, the roads swarmed with terrible daemons. she had made the right decision.

finding him, however, was much more difficult. finding her way to a well lit station had been difficult enough in a foreign world, and she had learned quickly to arrange her hair to cover her ears, avoiding questions she does not have the time to answer. but soon enough she had learned of him, where he was, and how to arrive there - to a city called lestallum, the last great bastion against the doom hovering on the horizon.

alisaie's heart is pounding when she arrives before the worn wooden door, in a narrow staircase with yellow walls, the paint peeling and the light harsh. she's ruffled and dusty with travel, exhausted and anxious, smelling of sweat and chocobo but once she had arrived in the city she could not bring herself to wait another second before searching him out, finding him. hefting the sleeping child higher on her hip, alisaie presses a kiss to his pale blonde head, taking a deep, stilling breath.

and she knocks. ]

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[ Even if he didn't know her as well as he does, it wouldn't be difficult to follow her train of thought as her hand smooths over the shape of the scar on his chest, and he swallows against the thick lump in his throat, his silence knowing. There are no miracles here that can return the dead to the living, and he has already lived a borrowed life so many times over. A life he was never meant to have. Is this when his number would be up? He is overdue, after all.

But, no...he can't allow himself to think like that. He can't allow himself to even entertain the idea that they could fail, or that even if Noctis does not, that...that he might still not make it, anyway. There is only one outcome here, and he is committed to it with everything that he is. That after the battle he will return home, that they all will, with the sun rising at their heels, and then he can hug his children and kiss his wife in the light of overdue dawn.

There's no other way.

He need not respond to her words with more promises, or with any words of his own at all, really. Instead, he responds by pressing his lips to hers, deep and warm and passionate, pouring every ounce of his heart into the way he holds her close and kisses her.

No, it won't be the last time, but dammit, he's still going to make it count. ]

[ there is no other way. he will come home to her. he must. she cannot imagine a scenario in which he will not.

but gods, she is still afraid, terrified; they have been through so much together, fought endless battles, but they were always side by side. she could cover for his weaknesses, and he for hers, working together in perfect tandem. alisaie needs now to.. trust that the boys shall do it in her stead, that they will keep one another safe. it is her only hope.

for now, however, prompto kisses her, his mouth finding hers and aligning perfectly, as it always does. they kiss often, every day, soft kisses, playful kisses, lazy kisses, passionate kisses, but this kiss is special, it is painful, and needy, it makes her heart clench and ache, and she must not think the thought that this could be their last. that this could be the last time she feels the press of his lips and tastes his mouth, the last time his arms close around her so tightly, the last time she can inhale the scent of his skin, warm and sweet and familiar.

she must not think that.

hot, fat tears roll down her cheeks, and alisaie breaks the kiss to whisper against his mouth, her hands tight in his shirt, her voice thick and tight with emotion. ]

If you do not go now.. I fear that I shall never allow you to.

[ Part of him hopes that she will, that she will keep him here, even if he knows it isn't right, what's needed most. But he has other promises to keep, and he has to keep this one first, in order to fulfill others.

They will come back, and they will bring the light with them. Still, he lingers in her touch, pressing his lips to the tears that roll down her cheeks, kissing them away. He hates to hurt her like this, to be the one responsible for her pain. He hates to be even the slightest inconvenience to her; something like this is almost unforgiveable. He'll have a lot of making up to her to do, once this is all over.

Soon enough.

He presses one more kiss to her brow, before pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, his own cheeks wet and shining in the dim light. ]

R-right. Destiny's callin'.

[ Though it takes more strength than he feels he possesses, he takes a step back at last, his hands smoothing down her arms before taking her own in his, his fingers trembling but warm. ]

I-I'll call you. As much as I can.

[ destiny is calling.

he is right, and she cannot deny him, she cannot keep him by her side, much though she may desire to, much though her heart pleads with her to clutch him near and never allow him to leave. this is what he needs to do. even if he is still lingering even now, dragging his touch down her arms, holding her hands in his own. ]

I love you.

[ she may be weeping freely still, but it is the most important thing to say, the thing he needs to know most. she loves him, she supports him, she will wait for him, and - ]

I believe in you. Go now, they are waiting.

I love you, too.

[ He can't let her words go unanswered, even if he's told her a million times before, and gods willing, he will tell her a million times after. Though it's like a dagger through his heart, he at last lets go of her hands, and takes a step back. If he does not go now, he never will, and if he stays, and things go wrong, he'd never be able to live with himself. He may still not hold himself in the highest esteem, but he has a part to play here, and he knows it now.

But he won't say goodbye, because this isn't goodbye. So instead, he manages a weak, but earnest: ]

Catch you later.

[ And then he turns to go, his whole body trembling, his cheeks wet with tears, but he walks tall, just as he knows he must, for his family, for his friends, and also for himself. The dawn is coming. ]

[ waiting is ever a terrible thing to endure, and alisaie in particular has never been good at it - less so when her husband has left to walk into the ravenous jaws of the enemy in one last, reckless, desperate bid to bring back the sun and save their world.

more perhaps rides on this than prompto and the boys might think, for alisaie knows how deeply connected the shards are with the source, how the outcome of this final confrontation may spell disaster not only for eos, but for hydaelyn as well. though no ascian has shown its face to her since arriving here, alisaie cannot help but suspect that this is nevertheless their work, and that perhaps ardyn himself may indeed be among the paragons. will they be able to prevail against so terrible a foe without the vaunted warrior of light at their side? will noctis' prophecy be enough? she must believe that it is.

prompto too must know as well. he knows everything she knows, after all, he knows all about hydaelyn and the ascians, about her time in the first, about the ardor, the rejoining, how eos relates to hydaelyn - all of it. while she has kept her counsel on ardyn's possible nature for fear of making their foe feel insurmountable, she's sure prompto must have at least considered the possibility that ardyn is an ascian, that eos's peril is a facet of the rejoining, that everything rides on the boys' success.

but nevertheless, all there is to be done now is to wait.. and to hope. she meant it when she said that she believes in him, that she believes in them. they will succeed, because they must.

gathering their four children together, they travel together to hammerhead, and together with cindy and cid and many, many others.. they wait. they eat, they talk, and they watch the eastern sky. ]

[ It's the longest night of his life. You know...in a metaphorical sense, since it's been night for ten long, long years.

Their mission takes them right into the heart of the capital - into what remains of it, and the glaives that still fight for their cause. Prompto has never seen so many daemons in one place before, the efforts of gods and monsters reaching a fever pitch as they must thwart Ardyn's minions, including the Infernian, of all beasts. They slay daemon after daemon after daemon, they lose friends and allies, until it is at last just the four of them approaching the citadel, knowing full well what waits them inside...or rather, who.

Except...not all of them proceed. This fight is Noctis' alone, and they all know it. They've known it for years, and yet, it doesn't feel real until the moment comes, and Noctis asks for one of Prompto's photos to take with him. He knows exactly why he makes this request. It's...a one way trip.

So he bids a tearful farewell to his best friend of fifteen years, as he, Ignis and Gladio remain to fight off the daemons that would overtake Noctis if they were to stand down. Prompto fights with everything he has. He fights for Ignis and Gladio alongside him, he fights for Noctis, who fights to bring the light back to them all. He fights for Alisaie, who crossed worlds to be with him, and for each one of his children, most of whom have never felt the warmth of the sun. That ends today.

There is no other way.

It asks more of him than he's ever had to give before. He gives his all, and then some more, and he is not without his share of injuries even as the daemons continue to surge. How long will they have to keep this up? How long can they keep this up?

And then, just when it seems as though they can go on no longer...at last, at long last, the sun begins to rise, a long-forgotten friend, gracing the godforsaken land and burning away the daemons like they were never even there in the first place.

They did it. Noctis succeeded. Which means...

Well, they all know what it means. Heart heavy with more emotions than he could ever name, Prompto sets out from Insomnia with his companions and the remnants of the glaives, heading back towards Hammerhead. There's nothing more than he wants than to see his family in that moment, for them to see him, for Alisaie to know that he did not break his promise.

He is coming home. ]

[ even after ten long years of darkness, hammerhead is still usually a somewhat lively place. it has to be. even when things are at their bleakest, there must always be hope, and warmth, and love, and hammerhead has provided one of the few safe spaces that remain. there is a warmth and welcoming here that never dies, despite the harsh violence and death the darkness around it brings.

but tonight, it is tense. it is quiet. everyone knows what is happening in the capitol, everyone had seen the boys off as they left, and even, distantly, they could see the lights over insomnia, the clashing lights, flashes of fire and color, like distant, silent lightning on the horizon.

alisaie has never been a terribly patient woman, less so when her husband's life is on the line, the person she spent years tearing a hole between worlds to return to. if he dies tonight, will it all have been for naught? will the years she did have with him be enough to assuage her grief? to convince her it was all worth it, anyway? alisaie does not know, and she does not want to find out. more than once she very nearly hops atop chobi's back to tear off to insomnia - it's taking too long, he's been gone too long - but by a thread she manages to hold herself back. it is not her place, and by now.. even if she arrived, she could arrive too late, or she could be of no more use than a fly against a trap. besides, the children need her. if something were to happen to them both..

so she waits. they all wait. louie is old enough to know what is happening, and so he is stoic and silent, but the girls are confused, and growing more and more bored with every passing second. honestly, keeping them occupied is the only thing that keeps alisaie together. they're the distraction she needs.

dread is beginning to build a deep pit into her stomach as the seconds tick by, the hours, the minutes. they cannot have failed. they cannot.

the sight of light on the eastern horizon is like a balm to a wound, and that first warm glow pulls a gasp from her lungs. and on the heels of the light.. there they are. three familiar figures moving toward hammerhead, weary and victorious; alisaie's heart clenches tight like a fist.

it's the children who move before her, however. the twins tear off towards their father and uncles, squealing with glee - they missed him! - and not a moment later louie sprints after them, tears in his big blue eyes. he tries to be strong, and he's as tough as his mother, but he is still yet a young boy who spent the night fearing for his father's life. fabienne is too young yet to know what is happening, to understand anything at all - she sits currently on cindy's lap, toying with plastic keys, and when alisaie turns to look to her, cindy only smiles, and nods.

she's sure she has never run faster. alisaie is quick on her long legs, and the desert shrubbery is a blur as she sprints, tears of joy and grief and relief streaking down her face as she runs toward them. toward him. ]

[ He is so, so very tired. He gave all that he had to give, and then some, to this cause, and in the process, he's lost his best friend, too. Everything aches, even if the warmth of the sun is more welcome than he could ever say. They have emerged victorious, but it will take his heart some time to heal from this day.

But as they approach Hammerhead, the first and most important step to that healing begins as the sound of his children reach his ears, the sounds of their joy as they rush towards him. Immediately, his heart clenches tight like a fist, and tears fill his eyes anew. He...he hadn't been sure he would ever see them again. As much as he wanted to be sure, that doubt had lingered, but now, now, here they come, and he drops to one knee to accept them, too overcome with emotion to stay upright any longer anyway.

And then, hot on their heels, comes Alisaie, and his heart lifts again, relief rolling over him in a fresh wave. Their family is hale and whole. They are alive. They are safe.

His tears turn to full-on sobbing as he fills his arms with his children, reaching up for Alisaie's wrist as soon as she is near to pull her down with them, and folding her into their giant group hug. (There's so many of them now.)

His voice trembling and soft, meant for their ears only: ]

We did it. We did it.

[ It cost so much, and yet...it was worth it. If Noctis could see them right now, he would agree. Prompto is certain. ]

[ prompto breaks down almost immediately, and alisaie is ready for it, she knows him, she knows his heart, and she folds him up in her arms so tightly it probably hurts, but she cannot allow any space between them now, not after all this. how close she came to losing him.

and oh, how he must need it, for of course she has noticed that only three have returned where four set out, and prompto need not explain what that means. she knows. she knows what noctis gave to bring back the sun, and she knows that he gave it willingly, and gladly, that now he can rest and perhaps, at last, meet lunafreya again. it will not be easy for prompto or any of the boys to mourn his loss - even alisaie feels it, for she knew him as well, through el nysa long ago, and briefly here, in hammerhead, when she saw them off with all the rest. prompto's sensitive heart is bleeding, but being with his family will be a soothing balm.

especially now that they are safe, the sun burning away the endless darkness, taking with it the stalking, bloodthirsty daemons left behind. it is.. a familiar feeling. though it was many years ago now, alisaie still remembers the first, she still remembers a long year in amh araeng, and how she felt to see the warrior of light tear the light from the sky once the lightwarden fell at their feet. there was never any confirmation that ardyn was an ascian, or influenced by one, yet still it feels the same. ]

You did. All of you did. I have never been more proud..

[ even though she yearned to be with them, to help, her belief was not misplaced. alisaie presses a fluttering of kisses to his face, his brow, his damp cheeks, her hands in his hair, her breath gusting against his lips and skin, all of her relief spilling like infection from a lanced wound. ]

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