If it weren't for the unnatural stillness, the gentle roar of demons run amok in the distance, and the plasmodium particles floating heavily in the air outside of their safe haven of breathable space, the warm, crackling campfire could almost have passed for one of the countless others around which they'd spent their time. A remnant of happier times as they chatted over nothing, enjoying as their meal the Memory Lane Pastry. After so many long years of trying, Ignis was finally able to perfect the one recipe he'd always wanted to prepare for Noct. It was only fitting that this be the meal of choice for what Noctis knew in his heart would be their final breaking of bread.
They ate and talked over hunts and past exploits and moments of heroics. They spoke of anything and nothing at all long after their plates were cleared. But soon, the conversation ground to an inevitable halt, and Noctis was left staring at his hands as he tried desperately to think of something, anything to fill the silence.
Smiling weakly, he said, "The four of us around a campfire… How long's it been?"
Ignis leaned forward in his chair in a position that, many years ago, would have seen him dangling a can of Ebony from one of his hands as he hummed thoughtfully. "An eternity."
Silence reigned. The fire crackled almost merrily, spitting in the face of the intense atmosphere which had overcome the four of them. Their chairs squeaked as each man moved nervously, all wanting to break the oppressive silence, but none knowing how.
"So, yeah…" Noctis began, trying and failing to get his voice past the lump in his throat for more than a few words. He stared at his hands, trying to will the tears he wanted to cry back into his eye sockets for several long moments before continuing. "I, um."
Every man watched as Noctis opened and closed his mouth, trying to force it to form words he knew he needed to speak. Gladiolus, never one to waste time when something important was on the line, cut through the thick air with, "Out with it."
"I just…" Noctis began, now clenching his fist as he tried and failed again to grate out more than a few words past the lump in his throat. Finally cracking and allowing emotion to overcome him, a broken breath escaped his lips and a few tears slipped out of his eyes. "Dammit… The hell is this so hard?"
He stared contemplatively at the flames for a long moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "So, I… I've made my peace."
Had he, truly? Even he wasn't sure anymore. Not now, not when faced with the unbearable knowledge that this moment, this campgrounds, this meal would be their last. But as King, he had no choice but to act as though he had indeed come to terms with his fate. If only to spur his friends on. If only to make sure all their effort wasn't for nothing.
"Still," he continued, forcing himself to speak through the tears in his throat. "Knowing this is it," he swept his gaze over Ignis, who sacrificed so much for his sake, over Prompto, ever a faithful companion, over Gladio, ever the source of a much-needed kick in the ass, "And seeing you here, now…" The tears did not cease as he finally admitted to his own weakness. "It's more than I can take."
Ignis, as always, kept a stiff upper lip, and seemed not to have moved from his resting position. Gladio's only motion was to wipe away a single tear from the corner of his eye before he looked heavenward. Prompto, however, deflated, losing all semblance of his usual cheer as he slumped forward and choked out, "Yeah… you're damn right it is."
Gladio, still looking heavenward as though to stop himself from tearing up, went for his usual brusque response and said, "Huh. So you spit it out."
Ignis took a deep breath, and in that moment, Noctis saw that he was struggling to keep himself composed as much or more than the rest of the group. "It's… good to hear."
Another long moment stretched into silence. In that moment, Noctis wished more than anything in the world that this could be just another night on the road. Another campgrounds in a line of many more. A chance to goof off and get to know each other under the night sky out in the wilderness. Something, anything but what it was- a moment of silence and mourning. Mourning for a king who would never take the throne in life.
He shook his head, forcing himself to stand. The sudden motion caught the attention of his comrades, and they looked quizically at him through their grief. "Well, what can I say?" Noctis asked with a shrug, trying to finish with a chuckle that sounded distinctly more like a sob. "You guys… are the best."
He wished more than anything he could say more, do more, do something to make this moment last longer, but reality and duty called. Ardyn awaited them in Insomnia, and they all needed their strength if they were to stand a chance against him and everything he would throw at them.
Noctis fell asleep on the hard ground, surrounded by his four friends in one last moment of shared space.
He awoke in a soft bed, with sunlight drifting through the window.
He blinked in confusion, trying to get his vision to clear, only to find the image of a white, vaulted ceiling remained in place. A white, silken canopy blew in the slight breeze drifting through the room, disrupting a few stray blue petals from the top of it. He heard, then felt movement next to him, and turned to face the source, only to find the familiar soft, but slightly aged, features of Lady Lunafreya confronting him.
Her body draped over his like it belonged there, and she sleepily moaned and opened her eyes- almost too blue, the blue of sylleblossoms, the blue of the oceans of Altissia where she had died, making this entire scene utterly impossible.
She smiled gently at him and stroked his hair. "Good morning, Noctis."
Noctis's heart thudded painfully in his chest. What the hell is going on?