A/N: This is just pure cracky/fluffy goodness. Words cannot even begin to describe how much fun this one was to write. It contrasts so completely with Adventum (which I hope everyone gets a chance to check out too).
Festino is latin for "hurry, to hasten".
Festino
Patience was a virtue. Or so the saying goes. Given his history, he would have considered himself a patient person. You would not think so now. Patience is something that alludes him more and more as each day passes. The seconds tick by one by one and the hour hand never seems to move. In the history of marriage he wonders if he were the only groom who felt more urgent than his bride about their upcoming nuptials. As the day got closer, he feels a plaguing sense of urgency to have it finally come. It is not coming quickly enough for him. It makes him wonder just why there was such a term as cold feet. His own feet could not have been warm enough to walk down that aisle and finally bind Stella to his side forever. The faster the day approached, the happier he would become. He has already had a few complaints from his brothers about this sudden impatience of his already. With each new day, he finds himself pacing unconsciously because he has too much excess energy. It does not even matter that with the upcoming event in question, he has been busy with meeting the visiting dignitaries and holding special receptions for them. None of this was enough to keep his mind distracted enough not be conscious of every turn of that accursed hour hand.
"So help me Noct if you don't sit down for five seconds I'm going to strap you to that chair," warns Des in exasperation.
He raises an eyebrow at the warning, but does not bother to refute it.
"It'll take less than half that time before he's beating the crap out of you," comments Sapien as he reads something on his handheld.
"That's what you should invent next, Sapien," says Des as he ignores the comment. "A rope that will restrain Noctis."
"I don't have that much time on my hands," answers Sapien.
"Maybe we should take a drive," offers Vires as he watches him begin to pace again.
"With those things already crawling up Noct's pants?" asks Des with a frown. " Being in a car would be much worse."
"You might actually get them in your pants," he retorts with a roll of his eyes.
"You want to know what I like to do to pass the time?" asks Des.
"No," answers Sapien.
"Des...," warns Vires.
"I read the gossip rags!" cries Des as he produces an armload of tabloid magazines.
He is not sure what to be more appalled at. The sincerity of Des' tone or the sheer amount of magazines that his friend has. Especially since he was on most of the covers.
"You know I do not bother with such trivial matters," he answers as he puts his hands behind his back to pace the length of the room again.
"When is Stella coming back?" asks Sapien.
"Within the hour, I hope," he answers quickly as he looks at the clock again. He sincerely hopes she will be back within the hour. She had not really given him an exact time frame to expect her return, but she has been gone long enough for her to be due back. Complications regarding the construction of her dress had been distressing her of late. He has been tempted to tell her that she could be walking down the aisle in her pajamas and he would not care. Only, he knows to say it out loud would result in an indignant fiancé who would consider him an inconsiderate cad and refuse to let him hold her for awhile. If things had been up to him, he would have had a small ceremony in his country estate with just their closest friends. It would be nothing like this media frenzy that it was becoming. It was not up to them though. They owed it to the pepple to do this as they were. Which has him keeping his mouth shut.
"Have you written your vows yet?" asks Vires.
"If you're having trouble, I'm sure Flash will help," offers Des.
"Fulgur?" asks Sapien skeptically.
"Fulgur is not the poetic type," argues Vires.
"He talks fancier than Noct," Des argues back. "I am sure he will have the right words for waxing lyrical."
"Any lyrical words he may have, would be reserved for Astra," he states.
"He'd be your best bet since we don't know the first thing about sounding all proper like you do," says Des as he thinks it over. "But we could try for you!"
"I do not need any help. I already know what I am going to say," he answers and he did. He was not going to cheapen his heartfelt vows by writing in on a piece of paper and reading it like some bumbling idiot in front of a million people. Stella deserved more than that. He knows his feelings. There was no need to rehearse that.
"Oh... its good. I can already tell from your face," says Des as he grins at him. "But come on, maybe we can think good ideas for you in case you forget."
"What have you in mind?" he asks more out of intrigue than anything else.
"Okay, here it goes," says Des as he clears his throat.
"Wait," says Sapien as he looks up from his handheld and comes to sit with the rest of them.
Des clears his throat again. "I know that I shall never see, nothing more beautiful than a tree. Until the day I met thee."
"A tree? Are you seriously comparing Stella to a tree?" asks Sapien. "That is what you can come up with?"
"Aren't flowers what girls like to be compared to?" asks Vires.
"Trees last longer than flowers!" protests Des. "Besides, that rhymed!"
"It sure did," he comments with an amused smirk.
"You try for something better Mr. Specks and Gruff man," challenges Des to Sapien and Vires.
"Sure," says Vires with a roll of his eyes. "Roses are red. Violets are blue. Des is a fool and he'd rather be in bed."
"Didn't know you loved me like that, buddy," winks Des as he laughs at the look on Vires' face. Then he turns to Sapien. "Your turn, Sap!"
"My turn to... pledge my eternal devotion to the shrine of Des?" asks Sapien dryly.
"What other shrine would there be?" retorts Des cheekily.
"Oh blond haired one. How shall I compare thee to a summer's day..."
"Okay, now I know its going to be bad," Des interrupts.
"That actually sounded pretty good," he adds.
"How do you know?" asks Sapien with a raised eyebrow. "I was just getting started."
"No wonder you haven't had a date in over a year!" says Des.
"It did sound a little corny," comments Vires with a chuckle.
"And yours didn't?" asks Sapien with a scoff.
"I was going for sarcasm," answers Vires.
"So was I."
"Does nobody love me?" complains Des.
"I am glad none of you are writing your own vows," he comments with a laugh.
"And I have not had a date in a year because I have been too busy to date," huffs Sapien indignantly.
"Too busy?" says Des skeptically. "How can you be too busy for girls? Noct finds all sorts of time."
"But not to find one," he defends quickly. "It took me my whole life to find Stella. I had not even been aware that I was looking for her at all."
"And how do you do that?" asks Des giving him a clinical look.
"Do what?"
"Make it sound all mushy without even meaning to."
"Mushy?" he asks. Were the words that romantic?
"Yeah."
"That is 'mushy'?" he asks.
Three heads nod at him.
"Sometimes you say things that would normally give me gag reflexes but you say it so pretty that I never get them when I should," blurts Des.
What a picture that made.
"That almost sounds like an insult," comments Vires.
"Don't instigate," says Des.
"I am thankful that you like my use of verbal skills," he comments somewhat uncomfortably.
"Definitely ain't verbal diarrhea," comments Des.
"What a mental image," responds Sapien with a shudder.
"I know, plain ole diarrhea is ugly enough," says Des cluelessly.
Vires snickers with a shake of his head.
"Come on, seriously," says Des. "What do you plan on saying for your vows?"
"I am not going to be practicing in front you lot," he says.
"Why not?" asks Sapien with a smirk.
"Are you sure you don't want to practice, Noct?" asks Vires, seriously. "You tend to clam up when you're feeling uncomfortable."
"I am going to be fine," he groans.
"Denial," comments Des.
"I am not getting cold feet," he reassures.
"No, more like hot coals making you want to run down the aisle," says Des.
"You know this is going to be televised around the world," reminds Sapien.
He would have much rather they did not remind him of that particular part.
"I am aware," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Come on, Noct," whines Des. "Just tell us a little part of it."
"No," he says firmly. "I have it all worked out in my head."
"Oh boy," comments Sapien knowingly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks somewhat affronted.
"In your head, Noct?" asks Des. "Talk about verbal diarrhea. That means its a jumble of words that are too wordy to even come out of your mouth."
"You're going to end up talking too fast," says Vires with a look of concern.
"Or only saying one sentence before you stop," adds Sapien.
"Bunch of nannies," he grumbles. "I know what I am going to say and no, you do not have to hear it."
Before they can start to say anything else, he beings his pacing again. He already knows the three of them are exchanging looks. They were right of course. So he tries to run over what words he had been planning to use again. He starts to think about Stella and how much he just wished he could keep her with him. Lonely was not the right word to describe how he felt when she was not with him. It was not loneliness. It was a necessity. It was a need. It was more like there was a part of him that was missing and he felt hallow and empty. He was the shell and she was the essence within that made him whole. The wheels of the clock are turning as the seconds tick by but the hands are not moving as fast as he would like. It almost seems like they are not moving at all. The wedding is not coming fast enough.
"These are fun to read! Give that back!" cries Des. He looks over just in time to see Vires as he throws a magazine into the waste bin.
"You know all the people in there. Why would you want to read about them?" asks Vires as he tries to grab another magazine from Des' pile.
"Because it's fun to read what everyone else is reading about them," argues Des as he clutches one close to his chest. There is the sounds of a small struggle and Des' cry of triumph before he is reading once more. There is the rustle of paper as he scans through one of the more known magazines. He is actually familiar with the one Des is holding in his hands but he cannot say the same for the rest piled on the couch beside. He watches as Des' eyes widen and then quickly turns the page with a nervous gulp.
"What did you just read?" he asks.
"What? Where?" asks Des with feigning ignorance.
It makes him raise his eyebrow.
"In there," he says nodding towards the magazine his friend's hands. He reaches out his hand for it.
"Now now," says Des as he holds it closer to his body. "You said you don't read such trivial things, Noct."
That was absolutely the wrong thing to say because now he had to know what was in that issue.
"Give me the magazine, Des," he says.
"You're right, Vires," says Des as he tries to get past him to throw the magazine away. "I know these people. There's no need... ack! Noct!"
He riffles through the pages to try and find what had made Des look so uneasy.
"Come on, Noct!" cries Des as he tries to grab it out of his hands. "It's just trashy.. what was the word?"
"Fodder," says Sapien helpfully but he can hear the underlying question in his voice.
"Trashy tabloid fodder!" exclaims Des, but he is not really listening to his friend anymore.
His already red eyes are glowing hot as he scans the large, bold headline in front of him. It is accompanied with a very high quality photograph. He feels the blood drain from his face. It's replaced with a need for retribution. For the sudden need to not only hit something, but shed blood too.
"What is it?" asks Sapien cautiously as he watches the look on his face.
"It isn't true, Noct," says Des. "You know it isn't true."
"Come on already. What does it say?" asks Vires impatiently.
He throws the magazine and it lands with a sharp slap on the cold stone floor.
"I am going to kill him," he warns as he makes his way towards the door.
"Now, now, Noct," says Des as he gets in his way. "You can't kill a reporter for..."
"I am not going to kill the reporter," he growls. "I am going to kill that sunny bastard."
"Noct," Sapien calls behind him. "Remember what happened the last time you..."
"I am not going to beat him into a bloody pulp," he spits out. "I am going to bloody kill him!"
"Noct," says Vires as he stands within the doorway, blocking his exit.
"His hand isn't even really touching Stella's..."
"But it looks like he is. That is the point!" he shouts as he teleports behind Vires and keeps on walking. To say that he was seething was a major understatement. He was surprised that the walls were not trembling as he purposely stomps towards the upper levels in search of the Sunny man that was not going to be so sunny anymore.
Not when he is through him this time, he thinks.
He cannot risk teleporting in his anger but he does use his power to prevent his brothers from grabbing hold of his arm and restraining him. They do not try after he makes his way up the stairs, but they do stay close behind him. There is a part of him that knows that he will not kill Sol. His brothers will make sure that he does not, but he knows they will allow him a few hits to appease his anger. Politics be damned, he was going to give that Sunny bastard something that would make that pretty face of his not so pretty anymore.
As he makes determined, angry steps he passes by Fulgur in the halls. The usually quick man stops to stare at their little parade of destruction a moment before he manages to utter a word.
"Why does Noctis look so angry?" he hears Fulgur ask. There is the rustling of paper. "Insufferable."
"Wouldn't be a wedding if there wasn't at least one fight," says Des. "Next will be the inevitable break down."
"Where is that orange colored, bleached toothed, artificial, shiny prat!" he growls as he walks towards the outer courtyard.
"Let it out, Noct," says Sapien from behind him.
"Even that sounded like it rhymed," comments Des.
He blinks his eyes and then closes them. Taking a small breathe, he opens up his senses to try and locate Sol's crystal.
"Where is everyone going?" he hears asked. The sound of the voice causes his eyes to snap open.
It looks as if Sol had just gotten back from a trip outside the castle. He is dressed semi casually with a white dress shirt that will not remain white for long.
"I'd run," says Vires.
But the warning comes too late because he has already launched himself at the arrogant prat and lands a punches against those pretty features. The resounding crack sounds almost as good as it feels as the other man goes flying backwards. He shakes his hand to loosen his wrist for another hit.
"This time you go too far," he says as he lifts the other man by the collar and lands another punch on the other side of his face. He is about to kick him when he's thrown backwards by the force of Sol's own power.
"Look," says Sol as he watches him get back to his feet.
He dusts himself off from the table that has flattened under his weight.
"Those pictures were taken back at Solis. When we were not on the best of term,." Sol tries to explain.
He does teleport then and lands another punch, this time on the nose and watches as blood squirts onto Sol's once pristine white shirt.
"I never touched her that way!" Sol shouts, his voice muffled as he clutches his bleeding nose.
"Would you care to tell me just how the picture shows you groping my fiancé's breasts then?" he reaches and snatches the magazine from Sapien's outstretched hand and throws it at the other man.
He gives Sol a moment to read the headline while holding a handkerchief against his nose.
The Fickle Queen! Torn between two kings. The ultimate love triangle. Secret trysts.
Along with a picture of Stella with each of them separately. The biggest picture being from their trip to Solis when the prat had volunteered to give Stella surfing lessons.
"So you are not angry that it calls Stella a fickle princess who cannot decide between the two of us, but of the fact that it looks like I am caressing her bosom?"
"Because I know she is not fickle," he responds as he feels his knuckles itching to throw another blow. "It is the fact that you are looking right into the camera lens and strategically placing your hand as if you really are touching an intimate area of her body, that pisses me off."
"Like I said," responds with as much dignity as this situation can muster for him. "We were not on the most friendly of terms and I wanted to... well I was not in my right mind."
"You won't have a mind once Noct is done with you," retorts Sapien.
"What, are we going to settle this with swords?" asks Sol sarcastically.
"No," he answers. He almost savors the look of surprise on the sunny man's face before he answers. "I would rather bash your bloody head in with my bare hands." He rushes at Sol again before the other man can absorb his statement and swings his arm back to do just that.
"Stop!" shouts the one voice that can reach him within this haze of anger. Soft hands close around his arm to stop him from inflicting another blow upon Sol's ungrateful skull. He feels the adrenaline leave his arm as he turns to look at her face.
The red glow of his eyes dampens but they are not yet blue again as her presence soothes him.
"Stella, I am so glad you are here," says Sol as he gets back to his feet.
He is not looking at Sol now. He is too busy looking at the expression on Stella's face.
"You do not have to defend my honor," she says to him before turning around to face Sol.
"I just want to apolo..."
Sol does not get a chance to finish his apology because there is another satisfying crunch as Stella's fist connects with his face and he steps back with a surprised yelp. Then it is him that is restraining Stella from inflicting more injury to the sunny man.
"How dare you!" she cries. "The next time you decide you want to be thoroughly beaten, you only need to ask!"
She whirls around to look at him and he is almost afraid that she will yell at him as well.
"I want to look at your knuckles," she says as she reaches for his hands and he is so surprised that he does nothing but show her his hands.
"You pack a punch, Stell!" comments Des approvingly.
"Split his lip right in two," adds Vires with a nod of his head.
"I am really sorry," mumbles Sol through his bloody handkerchief.
"Not now," Stella says as she holds up her hand to him. "When I am not so angry at you, I may want to hear it. But for now, I am going to see to my husband's hand."
He watches as Stella takes his hands and begins to leads him away. There is nothing for him to do and nothing he wants more than to go with her. He is only glad that she is here. Had it only been a few moments earlier that he had been waiting restlessly for her to return? He still feels angry enough to continue his beating of Sol, but he would rather be with her instead. So he lets her lead him into one of the empty rooms with an adjoining bathroom and tries not to smirk too much at how proud it made him feel that she had called him her husband. She pushes him onto one of the couches before she disappears to get him a wet towel for his knuckles.
"Will the madness never cease," she sighs from the other room. He can hear the water running briefly before she shuts it off. Then she comes back into view with a wet towel in her hands. "If it is not one thing, it is another."
"Forgive me if I..."
"You," she says interrupting him as she moves to kneel in front of him. She presses the cold towel gently against his bleeding knuckles and he tries not to hiss when he feels them sting. "Fighting for my honor is very hot."
"Hot?" he asks as his brows furrow.
"Yes," she answers as she looks up into his face with a teasing smile on her lips. "It makes me want to kiss you senseless for being so chivalrous."
"Funny that," he smirks as he leans in closer to her face. "You defending your own honor makes me rather hot too."
She responds by giving him a very quick peck on the lips, which leaves him very unsatisfied and uncontrollably pouty. Which makes her giggle and kiss him a little longer this time, but pulls away before he can deepen it.
"I must see to your knuckles first," she says as she ignores the pout on his face.
"I care not for my bleeding knuckles," he almost growls in his frustration to have her lips against his once more.
"But I do," she says as she raises one of his hands and kisses it gently.
"My lips suffer injury too," he pouts.
"Nice try," she says with another giggle that makes his heart melt.
"And what of your own?" he asks as he reaches for her right hand.
"It hurts a little," she confesses. "I am sure it will bruise."
He brings it to his own lips and places a lingering kiss upon her knuckles before running them over the bones.
"If only I did not have to wear gloves," she says with a mischievous grin. "Then everyone would know who split Sol's lip."
They both smirk at each other. Then her face turns hesitant.
"The headline," she says softly. "You did not believe what it said, did you?"
"I plan on having words with the editor of the magazine," he answers.
She raises an eyebrow at him, clearly not believing he will only have words exchanged, but does not comment.
"No, I did not believe what it said."
"It could have looked that way to you," she presses. "In that picture, I really was having a good time. I just had not known that he was making a show of how close we were on that surfboard."
"I do not hold anything against you about this entire thing," he answers honestly. "It was I who had been too afraid to stand up to Etro sooner. If I had, then this entire thing would not have even happened to begin with."
"I care not for what everyone else may think of me," she says as she reaches for his face. "It is your opinion that truly matters to me. What you wish for, I wish for too."
"And if I were to say that I want to marry you right this instant instead of waiting tomorrow?" he asks with a smirk that makes her laugh.
"I would do it," she answers with a smile. "I really would, but we would regret the negative effects it would have on our marriage."
"We are too responsible," he comments and lets his disappointment leak through in his tone.
"I love you, you know," she reminds him.
"I love you too," he says but he does not understand why she felt compelled to remind him now.
"There is nothing that will stop me from marrying you tomorrow," she says and he realizes that she has felt his sense of urgency.
"I cannot help but feel ill at ease," he confesses as he leans his forehead against hers.
"This is going to happen," she says as she kisses his nose, then each of his cheeks. "I swear it will." Then she kisses his lips. She does not pull away when he reaches for her this time and the kiss deepens as he moves his lips against hers. He pulls her flush against him as he kisses her even deeper.
"Stella?" a voice utters as the door knob turns, causing the two of them to part hastily. "Oh sorry!" cries Astra as she turns her back on them.
A sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head in frustration. Stella keeps her hands on his shoulders as she acknowledges her friend.
"What is it Astra?"
"Your dress is here!" responds Astra excitedly.
He wants to sigh again because he knows that this means she will leave him, again, to handle more wedding arrangements. He does not even realize he is pouting again until he feels her kiss the scar near his chin.
"Go on," he tells her because he can see the excitement and glee in her eyes.
She smiles up at him gratefully and shows her gratitude by kissing him again.
"Why do I never have my camera when things get interesting?" laments Des as he stands beside Astra.
"I shall see you later," says Stella as she squeezes his wrist before ducking under his arm and rushing out the door with Astra.
He watches her go reluctantly as she disappears from his sight, with her scent still lingering in the air around him.
"You know, Noct," says Des. "That sort of reminds me that you never make out in front of us."
The statement is enough to make him frown. "What do you mean?"
"I mean we wouldn't mind if you ever sucked face in front of us," explains Des.
"How eloquently stated," says Vires with a wince.
"You mean you wouldn't mind," comments Sapien as he makes his way inside to sit on the couch opposite of him.
"I'm just sayin', you don't have to worry about us getting weirded out if the impulse ever gets you."
"Very reassuring Des," he comments dryly before he looks at the clock. It was only the early afternoon. He had the entire evening and another long morning to wait.
"I have fresh gossip," announces Des smugly.
"You are worse than the rags you read!" cries Vires with a roll of his eyes.
"Hey! I'm not responsible for what I hear," protests Des.
"Do we want to know?" asks Sapien as he reads something off his handheld.
"It's about Sunshine and Snowflake."
"What about them?" he asks.
"I overheard them just now when they thought they were alone."
"Okay..." says Vires as he makes a motion with his hand to hurry Des along.
He is merely surprised that Procella had witnessed earlier. He had not even noticed her there. Which meant that Astra must have been there too. Who else had been there and he had not even had the presence of mind to notice?
"It sounds like those two have a past history together," says Des.
"Past history," says Sapien skeptically.
"What makes you say that, Des?" he asks.
"Sunshine said something about if Snow weren't just a frosty glacier, they would have worked."
"You just made that up right, now, didn't you?" asks Vires suspiciously.
"Why would I lie about that!" exclaims Des.
"You said you were a shipper for them," points out Sapien.
"Doesn't make it any less true."
"Sol and Procella?" he asks out loud.
"Polar opposites...get it!?" cries Des as he laughs at himself.
They decide they do not believe Des' bit of gossip.
"So about this reporter," says Vires as he ignores Des' smug grin. "What are we going to do about him?"
"I told Stella I would have words with the editor," he says.
"And she believed you?" laughs Des.
"Of course not," says Sapien knowingly. "Did she say what you couldn't do?"
The question makes him smile.
"No," he answers and he is mirrored with three other similar smirks.
"Well we do have time to kill, don't we?" asks Sapien as he puts his handheld down to smirk knowingly at him.
He looks at the clock again before he looks back at his brothers. "We definitely have enough time."
End Note: I hope nobody minds that I'm stretching Eclipse out. I just can't let it go just yet.