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Fic: Ascension 1/1

Ascension
By Max

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in the Final Fantasy franchise. Final Fantasy has been important to me for many years though, about the same time I found myself in Duo Maxwell, I found my voice in Seifer. Final Fantasy XV is fantastic. I love it a lot. So I’m gonna write about it, but I still don’t own it.

WARNING! This story has spoilers!!!
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Also ... this is a m/m story :)
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“Wait!” Prompto screamed. On the steps above him, his voice reached after Noctis. He reached out for him, dodged Gladio’s big hand and ran up the stairs towards the palace. He’d never belonged. He was nothing, empty, except when Noctis... He slipped, his knee hitting the stone, slowed, he scrambled up the stairs. “Noctis! Wait!”

On his hands and knees, staring up at the slender dark haired haired prince, dressed formally, dark metal and scuffed black clothes, scorched from battle.  Noctis squatted, emotion tight on his now thin face. Still unshaven, so much older and more distant than he had been when the crystal stole him. Prompto grabbed a handful of soft black slack, holding till his knuckles were white. “No, Just no. I know what they say... but we can do something together. We’ll kick his ass!”

Noctis’ fingertips passed through Prompto’s breath as he spoke, his words rushed and pleading, then moved up to smear warm tears over his battle dried face. “The night must end,” Noctis said, voice hoarse. It had been so long since he’d spoken and fighting through the flames had taken it from him. “There must be dawn, Prompto. That must be paid for in blood.”

“Take mine,” Prompto begged. “Let me take your place. I’ll do it!”

“Even if I could do that,” Noctis said, smiling softly, his hand pushing blond hair back from his lover’s face, “I wouldn’t, Prompto. I give myself. You have given me more than you can know. YOu once told me that I didn’t understand, but I think you are the one that did not understand. To everyone I was a role, a tool. My father loved me, but he knew, he always knew. You saw me as a man and it is because of the man you saw, the man you knew that I can walk in there and do what I must. I will give you the dawn, Prompto. I will give you the good light for many beautiful photos.”
“But you won’t be in them,” Promto said, fresh heat slipping free from his eyes. “Take me with you then!”

“I wish we’d spoken sooner,” Noctis said, leaning closer, his lips brushing Prompto’s. All soreness, the stone under his battered knee, all of it was nothing as he pressed forward, his tongue reaching for Noctis’, his arms going around his neck, holding his prince, his warmth, his light, the only light that he needed. Still kissing, tongues still touching, he felt Noctis’ warm lips against his ear. “I love you. Take beautiful photos.”

Then the kiss was cold, brittle and he looked up to see his lover twenty steps above him, back straight, royal shadow. The hologram in front of him, translucent and shimmering rainbow, and his eyes blurred. “NOCT!!”

Gladio had a fist full of his coat then, but Promto pulled, trying to slip free. “Noct!!!”

Shadows don’t listen, don’t turn around. The palace had always been more shadow than light, a place he couldn’t move freely nor with welcome and it swallowed Noctis up. “We need to be with him,” he begged his friends, pleading, “We can’t let him die alone! It’s not right!”

Now standing next to them, Ignis spoke solemnly, “We have done what we can for him. He, alone, is king.”

Light flared from the palace, searing, radiant, and Prompto found himself rolling back down the stairs. Falling, his mind grabbed at images, rare smiles, the first time he’d reached out for Noct’s hand, Noct’s voice saying he was one of them.. Get over it.

At the bottom of the stairs, flat on his face, amid the dirt and debris of a fallen capital, he lay there knowing neither his tears or blood could pay for what he wanted, they would never be enough.

The three of them sat there, and slowly Prompto sat up, watching the sunrise, the warm light, and it was though the sun itself was Noct, as if he’d become the source of life for everyone, not just one ruined little throwaway. And he knelt there as the light began to fill the city, his scraped and battered hands resting on his knees, tears spreading across his shirt. He wanted it to mean something. He wanted this to be victory, life, success, but without Noct, it was just a different form of darkness.

Gladio grunted something, but Prompto didn’t think he cared to understand language anymore. He had been made to be without feelings, without independence, but he’d stolen what he had, everything he had from his name to the kiss of the prince.... But what you steal, you often can’t keep.

Ignis touched his shoulder, spoke kindly. “Gentiana is talking to you, Prompto. It might be wise to reply to her.”

“What,” he sad, voice raw, throat swollen, and he looked up at the pale faced goddess. “He’s gone,” he told her, as if that explained everything.

“The King has ascended,” she agreed, her hand gesturing elegantly to the rising sun. “You are his loyal companions. Would you like to continue to be?”

Trembling, stomach flipping, Prompto stared at her. “Can we save him?”

She tipped her head, dark eyes studying him. “You can go with him, if you wish,” she said, her hand motioning as if she were summoning and a portal appeared. Beyond the portal Noctis lay napping on the hood of the Regalia, a sunny beach just beyond. “If you pass through, you can never return.”

Prompto barely heard her, already on his feet, running through the portal. “Noct!”

Noctis sat up as Prompto called his name, smiling he slipped from the hood, held open his arms. Prompto grabbed him, lifted him from the ground, spinning them around a couple times. Laughing, Noctis ran his fingers through that blond hair. Leaning he kissed him again, but now there was no end, no limits.

“Alright you two,” Gladio complained, a hand clapped to Noctis’ shoulder. “Is this what we’ve got to look forward to?”

Ignis, sight restored, he laid a hand on both Prompto’s and Noctis’ shoulders. “This is the most beautiful beach. Perhaps a photo would be in order?”

“Yeah,” Prompto said, slipping free of his jacket, barely keeping from jump up and down. “I can do that! This is the perfect light!”

“Sure,” Noctis said, content, striking a post. “Then let’s get something to eat! I’m starving.”

“And yet,” Ignis said, “We are all still remarkably alive, for a given amount of alive.”  

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