"The decreed hour is come."

The words echoed around the room, the hard marble acoustically amplifying the words, the sound embracing them from all sides. Noctia stood before the throne, visibly more relaxed than the three retainers standing behind her. Though the others weren't accustomed to having impromptu audiences with the King, she felt more relaxed. Her father's royal affectation commanded respect and Noctia was very careful to fulfill her role and keep her royal visage in place; but it was always difficult to separate the King from 'father' in her head. "Set forth with my blessing, Noctia, Princess of Lucis."

Noctia bowed. It wasn't in keeping with etiquette for a 'lady' to bow, and she could almost feel the disapproval from Ignis behind her, but she was never one to keep with tradition, preferring to bow like the women in the Kingsglaive than curtsy like any of the nobility that frequented the halls. If the King was at all disapproving of the display, he didn't show it, and she displayed herself as confidently as always. "Thank you, Your Majesty," she said.

There was a small pause, not long enough to be notable by anyone else in the room, but when Noctia met her father's gaze his eyes tightened. "Take your leave, and go in the grace of the gods," he said.

Noctia hated protocols and traditions, especially when it dictated how she spoke with her father. Being a royal audience was ever only tolerated by her, and she more often than not, to the annoyance of the retainers and nobility around her, refused to go through many of the motions, presentation, or titles. Some said that it bordered on disrespectful to the throne, but the King never had a word against it, so those few never pushed the issue.

Today was one of those times like the many before it, where Noctia simply nodded her acknowledgement. "Right," she said under her breath, turning hurriedly out of the room. Her three retainers, confused by the ungraceful exit, quickly bowed before following.

"Well, you know what they say about princesses," Prompto said, lightening the mood once they exited the throne room.

"Something about being spoiled and haughty?" Gladio said.

Noctia groaned entering the large elevator, "More like something about sleepy and not having the time for all the formal farewells."

"Yeah, there's a word for that," said Gladio, "it's called being lazy."

Noctia ignored him and watched the numbers slowly tick down as the elevator dropped. The doors opened with the gentle ding of the bell and Noctia exited, heading straight for the doors. The four of them relaxed now that they were out of the imposing atmosphere of the throne room; they were swinging their arms and tilting their heads up to meet the sun as they headed down the stone steps.

"Huh, I'm almost disappointed there's not a royal parade to celebrate kicking you out for six whole months," Prompto said and Noctia lightly elbowed him.

"So much for royal protocol," Ignis said.

"Your Highness!" a voice carried down the stairs and halted the four of them in their tracks, turning with wide eyes towards the King as he struggled down the first few steps with Drautos's help. As imposing as he had been on the throne, King Regis seemed much weaker like this. More human maybe, as he delicately made his way forward.

"What now?" muttered Noctia, but the note of concern was clear in her voice as she met the King halfway.

Regis set a hand on her shoulder for support. His eyes were tight like they had been when their eyes had met inside the Citadel, projecting fatherly worry as he gazed at Noctia. "I fear I have left too much unsaid," said Regis, and the firm hand on her shoulder tightened, "You place a great burden on those who would bear with you."

"Your one to talk," Noctia said.

Regis dropped his hand and turned towards her entourage, standing uncertainly behind their charge. "I ask not that you guide my wayward daughter, merely that you stand at her side," he said, his demeanor was less serious, the aging man speaking in a tone that was more beseeching than commanding. It must have seemed out of place with their image of the King as the three of them hesitated. Ignis, as always, was the first to react, polite and formal, as always.

"Indeed, Your Grace."

"We'll see the princess to Altissia if it's the last thing we see."

"Yeah, what he said."

Regis eyed them carefully, a knowing light in his eyes. His expression turned more severe, and again he had all of the appearance of a wise and powerful king. His hand gripped hard at his cane. "I expect nothing less," he said, "recognize that as protectors of the line of Lucis that you also take on a great burden. Do not forget that consequences will follow you, as well."

The air grew tense and Noctia could see the nervous flitting of Prompto's eyes and the stiffening of Gladio's shoulders as their discomfort grew. Ignis's eyes met hers. "Hate to break this up," Noctia said, her voice a bit forced, "but Cor's got the motor running."

Gladio and Prompto eagerly took the cue and headed down the steps toward the Regalia where it sat idling at the bottom. Ignis hesitated for a moment, and when it looked like he was preparing to speak Noctia gave the slightest shake of her head. He turned and followed the others. Noctia lingered behind as the others moved out of earshot, and she turned towards her father, doing her best to project confidence.

Regis's gaze was warm as their eyes met and Noctia, for once in the past several months, she was glad to see her father rather than her king in front of her. It had been immeasurably difficult coping with her future becoming a bargaining chip with the empire. Regis had known it, but it had been his duty being placed over his role as a father that had led him to arrange the conditions in the treaty. Noctia understood, reasonably Regis was King first, responsible for a nation; Noctia knew that her life belonged to her people. It hadn't been easy for either of them. Still, she couldn't help her heart rebelling against her father. She expected protection and love in ways that he was unable to commit as King of Lucis.

She'd been unable to accept it. And that rebellion had carried consequences that she was prepared to receive. She supposed she didn't make a very good Caelum, and her father's disappointment was a deep-seated fear that had troubled her the past few weeks as she heatedly debated him in his acceptance of a political marriage. The one thing that she valued just as much as making her father proud was her freedom and autonomy. And she'd had to make a difficult choice.

She never could make things easier for her father, since childhood she'd always been a source of worry, whether it be her health, her rebellious nature, or her emotional withdrawal, Regis had always fretted over his only daughter for one reason or another. But now, after weeks of argument, secrets, and eventually grudging acceptance, they could part today on equal, contented terms. Noctia was happy that before leaving on her journey she could share this moment with him.

"Another thing," Regis said, "Do mind your manners around the dignitaries in Altissia. Look grateful and prepare to meet with Lady Lunafreya. I'm sure she will be just as anxious to see you again."

His tone was so fatherly, so like her dad when she was little when he was giving her a warning against bad behavior, that she couldn't help but smile. "Your Majesty, as well," she said, "Try to mind yours around our esteemed guests from Niflheim."

Regis didn't smile at that. His face seemed to grow graver as he eyed her. "You have no cause for concern," he said.

"If you're sure."

"I'm anticipating disagreement, but I'm sure conditions will be agreed to and met all the same. I only ask that you take heed. Once you set forth, you cannot turn back."

Noctia's face grew more solemn. She understood. One way or another, everything would be coming to a head soon. She just hoped that it ended with peace, and that the collapse of a potentially world-changing treaty didn't rest on her shoulders. Regardless, she couldn't imagine taking any other path. She'd prepared for this moment, she'd taken everything in stride with the support of her closest friends, and she was more than ready to face what lie ahead. "You think I would?" she said.

"I need only know that you are ready to leave home behind."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"Take care on the long road," and Regis's voice grew more strained, every syllable enunciated, as though he was trying to encrypt a message to her in every word. More than likely, he was. "Wheresoever you should go, the line of Lucis goes with you." Regis placed a gentle, firm hand on her shoulder, his eyes full of emotion as he addressed her, and his voice carried the weight of an empire, of royalty, and of a father.

"Walk tall, my child."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but I must formally resign from my position," Molly said. She bowed low, trying her best to seem gracious and regretful, but Regis could tell from the tone of her voice the frustration she was trying to tamper. Honestly, he had no right to complain as his own frustration was bubbling under his regal composure. Molly was their eighth tutor, and to her credit she had lasted the longest, but he was sick and tired of hiring new tutors.

"Very well. Your services are no longer needed for the day. I am grateful for your efforts," Regis said. He needed to have a talk with his daughter. Again. And he was tired of having the same conversation with her, as well. He had to physically fight the urge to not roll his eyes.

Molly bowed once again and Regis dismissed her. As soon as she was out the door he was immediately to his feet and marching out of the throne room towards the elevators. Clarus stood near the doors to the hall and followed him into the elevator, barely keeping the smile off of his face. "Bad day?" he asked, and he could barely contain the amusement in his voice.

"Don't say a word," Regis said.

A few floors down the two men stepped from the elevator and walked briskly down the hall towards the Princess's room. The doors were shut and standing outside in the hallway as though the king and shield were expected stood Ignis. The poor boy looked as exasperated as Regis felt and seemed to grow visibly nervous as the king approached.

Ignis gave a quick bow, "Your Majesty, I apologize for what happened to Molly. I hope she isn't too upset."

"She's resigned. Though, I'd appreciate if you could tell me exactly what happened," said Regis.

"She didn't tell you?"

Regis looked at him, irritation clear on his face and Ignis gulped.

"The Princess refused to finish her etiquette lessons. Molly become quite upset. Then Her Highness, er, locked herself and the cutlery set in her bedroom, saying something to the effect of Molly looking… more like a garula than a governess. She hasn't come out since Molly left. Uh, Your Majesty."

Regis huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. When was all of this rebellion nonsense going to settle down? He desperately wished that his daughter would behave as expected of her for just a day and give him a little piece of mind. He patted Ignis on the shoulder. The boy was tall for his age, not as tall as Clarus's boy, but combined with his cultured mannerisms he certainly seemed mature for his age. Today, however, he seemed to sense Regis's frustration and was dreading the king's reaction to his daughter's antics.

"Take a break, my boy, I'll handle my daughter," Regis said tiredly.

Ignis nodded and stepped aside to give Regis access to the room. He made no move to leave, however, standing next to Clarus who put an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Don't worry, Ignis. Even the king can't control that girl's spirit." Ignis nodded distractedly, his attention focused on the closed doors as the king knocked with a clenched fist. Worried about her still, Regis thought to himself, appreciating the loyalty and friendly concern that Ignis held for his daughter. Regis believed he'd done well in choosing Noctia's confidant, he'd become a caring friend and caretaker to her. Ignis must be rightly expecting her to get the punishment of her young life. Regis was considering it.

"Noctia Lucis Caelum," Regis said, her name punctuated by another hard knock on her door, "open this door."

The hallway turned deathly silent, the three listening for movement on the other side of the doors. They heard none.

"Noct, if you don't open this door for me on the count of three, I will tell Ignis to go down to the kitchens and order the cooks that you will receive vegetables for meals and no desert for a month. I am far beyond games."

Despite his sour mood and his efforts to keep a serious composure, he inwardly chuckled at the sound of small footsteps rushing to the door and the sound of the lock clicking open.

Regis looked to Clarus and Ignis, "You two are dismissed for now. I need to have a word with my daughter."

The two retainers bowed before turning down the hallway; Ignis threw a final glance in the direction of Noctia's room before following the shield around a corner.

Regis slowly stepped into the room and closed the doors behind him. When he turned to face the bedroom he saw Noctia, hugging her legs on her bed, her head turned away and facing the wall rather than her father. She wasn't wearing the dress that had been embroidered for her specifically for her etiquette lessons, instead wearing one of her ratty T-shirts and pair of shorts. She looked miserable, and his heart hurt at seeing his child look like that, no matter the circumstances.

Regis huffed, a pained sound before sitting himself on the bed next to his daughter. She didn't move as he ran his fingers through her hair. He kept his voice soft, "Noct, what did you do?"

She shrugged, but otherwise remained silent, gaze intensely focused on the wall.

Regis rubbed a comforting, fatherly hand on her back. It wasn't very difficult to mitigate his anger. He had a very hard time staying angry with his daughter on a normal day, and particularly so when she seemed withdrawn and unhappy.

He sighed and his voice turned stern, "Ignis says you were being... disrespectful to Molly. Want to tell me what happened, Noct?"

There was a hesitation, and Noct slowly turned her head towards her father, though she didn't lift it from the shelter of her knees. Her eyes were only visible through her choppy bangs and her gaze had turned from her focus on the wall to the duvet. Regis waited patiently. Noct didn't need much prodding, just patience. His hand continually ran over her back.

"She said I wasn't a good lady," Noctia muttered into her knees and Regis had to strain to hear. Thankfully, he was by now skilled in pouting child enough to understand.

"And did that hurt your feelings?" Regis asked.

"No."

"So why did you lock yourself in your room and insult Molly?"

Noctia shrugged again and Regis bent down to peer into her eyes. Regis expected from her body language to perhaps see puffy, red eyes or maybe tears; but her eyes were dry, a mixture of fiery and exasperated. Her lips were pursed into a thin line and her brows drawn together in clear discontent. "So what is all this about then?" Regis asked.

"I'm not a lady," Noctia said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be a lady. Molly said I wasn't a lady, and I said 'then I don't want to be.' She got mad at me said I needed to be one or I wasn't a good princess. She said... I wouldn't make you proud. That's when I got mad."

Regis sighed again, "Noct, I will never not be proud of you. Do you hear me? You make me proud every day, even days where you make me want to tear my hair out." Regis pulled Noctia into his arms who tried her best to keep her serious, angry composure but fell apart into laughter as her father proceeded to tickle her sides. She shoved at his hands, but couldn't fight against the onslaught of tickles as she flailed and wailed in helpless giggles.

Regis couldn't help laughing himself as a smile grudgingly graced Noctia's face. When he finally allowed her a moment to breathe he hugged her to his chest and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I know you don't like your lessons, Noct," he said, "but they're important. You understand that you're a princess. These are lessons every princess needs to learn. Even if you were a boy you'd need to learn your manners. Is it really so awful that you need to insult your tutors?"

Noctia sat up straight and looked her father in the eye. Noctia had always been a hardheaded child, even a bit too cocky for her own good. It was one of the reasons Regis adored her; but her stubbornness was going to kill him one day. "I want to learn how to fight. With a sword," she said.

Regis blinked. He hadn't expected that. It was very difficult to keep the exasperation out of his voice, "Noct, you don't need to learn how to fight."

"Iggy takes fighting lessons," she said, staring pointedly.

"Iggy," said Regis, "will be responsible for protecting you one day. They're basic sparring lessons, Noct, he doesn't use a sword-"

"He uses knives."

"Noct, that's not the point. He needed to focus on the same etiquette lessons as you do before learning to spar. It will be part of his role one day that he needs to learn all of these skills. Right now your role is to exercise your brain and do well in school and with your tutors."

Noctia's features turned excited, focusing wide eyes on her father, "If I do well in school then I start my lessons?"

Regis audibly sighed, more than a little confused and concerned. "Why do you want to learn how to fight, Noct?"

"Because everyone says I'm bad at being a lady, Dad. I don't care about those lessons. No one cares about dinners and dresses. I want to be like the heroes in the books that Iggy reads to me. Like the old kings. Like you!" Noctia gripped at her father's coat, eyes shining. She seemed so small like this, incredibly fragile, though Regis knew better than to think that she was anything but. He felt a sadness creeping up inside of him. He knew her destiny, the fate that awaited her in the not-so-distant future. And seeing his daughter here on his lap, foolhardily begging to be allowed to learn to fight; it seemed too much like she was running headlong into that future without any knowledge of what to expect.

But its a pipe dream, isn't it? To hope that you can raise her like a normal little girl. You've known for a while that you're leaving her defenseless. You've no right to limit her based on your own fears regarding her destiny. Regis wrapped his arms around Noctia. For a long while he didn't say anything, merely clutched his daughter to him, his brows drawn. He felt older and more weary, wishing so very much that he could offer fairy tale endings and assure that there was nothing to fear from the demons that crawled the world. But he was starting to get the idea that the child on his lap wasn't afraid of monsters under the bed, just angry at the thought of having no way to fight back against them. Don't lecture her on being a princess if you can't live up to your duties to her, as King and as a father. Don't let the world down. Don't let her down.

"You will work hard at school. You will do your homework when Ignis and I tell you to do it. And you will eat your vegetables. You will not touch any blades until I say you are ready," Regis said in his most stern dad voice. Noctia nodded her head quickly, eyes bright and an even brighter smile shining on her face. "You will listen to your instructor. No more tutors, but you're going to continue your lessons. Through Ignis this time. You are getting off easy today; I hear word that you are being difficult or disrespectful, you will be punished. Is that understood?" Regis kept his gaze firm.

"I promise, dad. I swear. I'll be good. I'll do good," Noctia said.

"I know you will," Regis's said, "and you are going to apologize to Molly. With honesty."

Noctia ducked her eyes and to her credit looked a little guilty at the mention of Molly. The two of them were quiet for a long moment before Regis whispered a secret into her ear, "But you know what?"

"What?"

"She does look a little like a garula."

Noctia laughed and she hugged her father. Regis inwardly groaned at how goddamn soft he was when it came to her. And almost as an afterthought, "But you know you're grounded, young lad-, uh, Noct. No video games until I see a sincere apology letter to Molly. And in return, you'll start your lessons next week. Deal?"

"Deal," said Noctia

As Regis left Noctia's bedroom, closing the doors behind him, he caught sight of Clarus leaning against the opposite wall. He smiled at Regis's tired expression. He knew it well, raising two kids of his own. The 'tired dad' look. "So, what is she in for this time, huh? No video games? No deserts?"

"Games," said Regis and he turned to walk down the hallway, Clarus at his side, "though that's not all."

"How's that now?"

"There's going to be some changes. The tutors aren't working, so she's going to focus on school. And your boy is going to start training her."

Clarus gave a hearty chuckle before seeing that Regis wasn't laughing with him, his eyes stony and Clarus realized it wasn't a joke. He choked on the laugh in his throat, "Huh?"

Regis stopped in the hallway and Clarus didn't miss how he threw a quick glance along the hall to assure they were alone. He fixed Clarus with a severe look and Clarus got the hint that he wasn't speaking to his friend, but his King.

"She needs to learn," said Regis, "whether I fully approve or not. Gladiolus will start to train her. And he's not to go easy on her. I want her skilled, able, and holding her own by the time she... When her training is finished. And if we're lucky maybe the training will knock some discipline into that girl. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Clarus, and gave a slight bow of his head.

Regis's features softened and he ran a hand over his face, "and be sure to let Ignis know that Noctia is be getting extra vegetables for the next week."

Gladiolus paced around the training room twirling his wooden practice sword, already dressed in his gear and unnecessarily inspecting the sparring weapons on the wall. As prepared as he felt he was, and there was natural bravado and confidence that helped his slight anxiety, he still felt a little unsure as to how he was going to start. Last week his father had come home, stating that after school from Monday on out he was to be training the princess. He had been shocked. He accepted the role, because it was expected of him and because it would make his father proud, and now here he was. Waiting for the girl.

He visited the Citadel several times, to visit his father or more recently to do training drills with the princess's other retainer, Ignis. They didn't know each other terribly well, yet, but they had enough commonality that they were beginning to become friends when they had the opportunity to see each other. He supposed they would have the opportunity more often now that he was going to be frequenting the Citadel. To train a girl. One who had a reputation for being lazy and stubborn. He was sure it would be a joy.

The doors behind him opened and he turned to see his father walking through them, followed closely by a small boy wearing a T-shirt and cargo shorts underneath his small, fitted sparring gear. "Dad," Gladio greeted his father, and he nodded to the boy who just stared back at him. Well, the kid was a brat, but not his problem. "I didn't know you'd be here today, too. Are you training the runt while I train the princess then?" he asked.

Clarus barked a laugh and his shoulders shook, the boy at his side pinched up his face in apparent offense, eyes slitting as he glared at Gladio. "No," said Clarus, "I'm not training anyone. I've got office work today. Don't worry, I'm sure you can handle it."

"So, what? I'm training two? I thought you said I was only training the princess. I didn't know you'd have me training more than one kid."

Clarus clapped his son on the back, "Oh, you're training only one, all right. Gladio, this is Her Highness, Princess Noctia. Your Highness, this is my son, Gladiolus. Your new teacher." Clarus's amused smile was plastered on his face.

Gladio choked and sputtered, gaping at the boy. No, the girl in front of him, a blush coloring her cheeks as she met his eyes. What a great start. He hastily bowed and muttered an apology, and he was sure a blush of his own was coloring his cheeks.

"This is Noct, son. No titles in here, you're the teacher," Clarus said. He placed a hand on Noctia's shoulder, "Noct, Gladio's going to be your teacher. And when you're older, your royal Shield. Don't worry, he knows what he's doing. Go grab a practice sword. Runt." Clarus pointed to the wall and Noctia walked away with her face bright red and fiery eyes glaring at the Shield.

Clarus then threw his arm around Gladio's shoulders. "You'll have the training room to yourselves when you're training with her," he said, "Remember, don't go easy on her just because she's a girl. King's command. And also remember this is as much your training as hers. Learn how she moves and fights, as she gets better your job will be to support her as much as guard her. You'll need to memorize her weaknesses and compensate for them. You're going to be her Shield one day, so take this as your introduction into Citadel life. That's all it is in a nutshell, anyway. Just start with the basics." Clarus clapped him on the back again before heading back towards the doors.

"Thanks for the rundown, Dad," Gladio said, sarcasm dripping from his voice before the doors shut again.

Gladio exhaled heavily before turning to face Noctia. She stood off to the side near the weapons rack, holding the wooden sword in front of her with two hands. He moved to the center of the room before gesturing for her to stand in front of him. She walked over and met him squarely in the middle of the floor. "So," said Gladio, "Noct."

Noctia hesitated before nodding.

"I'm Gladio. It's nice to finally meet you. We'll be meeting here every day once you're done with school for ninety minutes. Being late isn't allowed, skipping isn't allowed. So, uh... Do you have any questions?"

Noctia shook her head.

"All right. Guess more rules will come to me as I go," he muttered somewhat self-deprecatingly. Fighting he could do. Teaching? He'd learn on the fly, he supposed. He squared himself, "Well then, let's start with your stance. Stand straight. Don't lock your knees. Keep your shoulders back. Swap your hands and don't hold the grip so tight." Gladio moved behind her and moved her hands, showing her how to grip the sword. He nudged her shoulders until they were relaxed and in proper position, he tapped her heals with his foot signaling her to spread her feet more. Once he molded her into the proper stance he gave her an encouraging smile. "You got it," he said, "today I'm going to show you basics. Stepping, guarding, being aware of your feet. All right, princess?"

He'd meant the nickname sarcastically, not meaning to use a title, but Noctia's face scrunched in distaste all the same. "Don't call me that," she said.

"What, Princess?"

Noctia nodded.

"Just Noct then?" he asked.

"Yeah. Uh, that's what I like to be called."

"Your friends call you that, huh?"

Noctia dropped her gaze and looked hard at the floor. Her stance faltered a little and she was chewing her lip. "My dad, and people in the Citadel call me Noct. And Ignis," she offered as a response.

Gladio could read between the lines, "Well, guess I'm glad I get to call you Noct, too." And for the first time Noctia offered him the ghost of a smile, hesitant and hopeful. He grinned back. "Okay," he said, "follow my lead."

Thanks for reading! This is mostly meant to be fluff, but that may change in the future. Rating is for later chapters as there will be future smut. Comments are appreciated!