A voice niggled at the back of Regis' mind, insisting he should contact Clarus immediately. Now that Reina had Dreamed, they had preparations to make so the storm could be ended, with any luck, once and for all.
Preparations that he could do in a little while. After he had rested his eyes for a few moments. It was already past three in the morning.
They lay sprawled across Reina's bed—all four of them—staring blearily across at each other until their eyelids grew too heavy to hold open. They woke in a similar state, save that some semblance of daylight now streamed in through the windows.
He was not the first to wake. Nor the last. Though Reina lay curled up in his arms, still fast asleep, Crea and Noctis lay across from them, locked in a silent battle of silly faces. They took turns making the most outrageous face they could contrive while the other clapped their hands over their own mouth to prevent themselves from laughing.
Regis watched this play out for several minutes before Crea noticed he was awake. A smile, pure and simple took the place of whatever face she had been about to make at Noctis. Noctis turned to look at him. He puffed up his chest like he was going to shout something, but Crea clapped both her hands over his mouth.
"Your sister is still asleep," she whispered. "Let's go make noise somewhere else. Come on. Very quietly now."
She ushered him out of bed and waved him ahead, promising to follow after. Regis had one arm trapped beneath Reina. Though he knew he needed to rise and make ready for great changes in Lucis, once he had looked down and laid eyes on her once more, he found he had no desire to.
Crea was smiling at him, her face so full of love and adoration she seemed to exude it. She leaned forward to give him a kiss and whispered in his ear, "I'll see that breakfast is prepared and have tea sent up."
Regis' eyes glanced toward Reina's desk clock over Crea's shoulder. It was nearly ten. When had he last slept so late? He had no notion.
"You may have to hold off the hounds as well. Doubtless Clarus is searching for me by now."
"I'll throw them a bone."
And with that she slipped out of bed and after Noctis, shutting the door behind her and leaving Regis and Reina in peaceful silence.
He pried gently with his senses—just to be certain—and found that her core was firmly centered in her physical body. She was here. He could wake her, if he wished.
Once the thought had crossed his mind, he found that he did wish to. The fears of last night swept up and threatened to overcome him once more—Reina, lost in the In Between, her physical form wasting away even as they tried to sustain it in vain hope that someday she would return—but he shoved them away. She was right here. He could feel her magic wound tightly and settled in the physical.
Still.
He smoothed her hair back from her face and grazed his fingers over her cheek.
"Reina, my dear… wake up, little princess."
She stirred, tensing in his arms with a small sound of objection.
Regis kissed her forehead, holding her like a porcelain doll. "I know, my dearest. But you must wake up."
She lifted one hand to rub at her eyes before blinking up at him. "What is it, Father?"
He had only thin reasons to wake her. The truth—that he had wished to see her eyes once more open and alert to ensure himself that they could be—would never do.
"The day has well and truly begun and breakfast is on its way," he said instead. "I fear it is time for all of us to be on our feet."
That was true enough, at least. Even if he might have let her sleep under other circumstances. Even so, she seemed to take his words only at face value. She rolled onto her back and glanced around the room. "Noctis?"
"Has gone with Crea. He woke some time ago."
Someone tapped at the door—the hesitant sound of someone who feared to wake the occupants but held important news nonetheless.
Regis pushed himself into an upright position. Reina clambered after him, crawling into his lap like she used to do when she was small and uncertain. Her fear of his disapproval had hidden away the teen and brought out the child. It was a development he could appreciate, at least temporarily.
"Enter," he called.
As the door opened, he realized he was in his shirtsleeves with his hair a mess. No matter. The face at the door was Crea's.
"Oh!—You're both awake! Good. Clarus says he has urgent news from Niflheim, which he insists you'll want to hear immediately," she said.
Of course he did. No rest for the king.
"The war is over," Reina said, in a voice more befitting a five year old than a twelve year old.
In all the excitement, he had nearly forgotten the true reason for Reina's terrifying dive into the unknown. Could it truly be so simple?
Simple. As if last night had been simple for any of them.
"I will come."
He gave Reina another hug and pulled away from her—which was rather more complex than it sounded. When he did manage to extract himself from her grasp, she followed behind him like a lost puppy.
What was he to do with that? He couldn't very well close the door in her face or tell her to run along and play with her brother. That she wanted to be with him was clear enough. And though it had been some four years ago when he had asked Crea's advice for what to do with his shell-shocked children, her words still held true: if she needed to be with him, then let her be with him.
He turned and scooped her up in his arms, Chika the Chocobo and all. She gave a yelp of surprise and clung to his vest for a moment, before snuggling up beneath his chin.
It wasn't until then that he realized how far they had come in four years. He sometimes complained about the early emergence of teenage-Reina, but now that the child had returned, he had cause to reflect at how wonderful it was to see her growing into a person of her own. A person who still loved him but recognized him not as an infallible god on high, but as a man whom she sometimes disagreed with and loved all the same. She had opinions of her own—strong ones—and the strength of will to express them. She had likes and hobbies and friends that had nothing to do with him.
He had told Crea he wanted them to grow into whole young adults, capable of taking on the world. And they were.
They were.
That woman was a miracle incarnate.
As these thoughts flitted across his mind, he gave Reina an extra squeeze and a kiss on the head. She was much too big to be carried around these days, but he did so anyway.
They found Clarus waiting in Regis' rooms, already seated in the lounge and helping himself to a cup of tea from Regis' tea tray. He gave Regis and Reina a curious look as they entered, but made no comment when Regis sat down with Reina in his lap.
"Pour me one of those, will you?" He asked and Clarus complied, passing a cup of piping hot tea across to him before resuming his own seat.
The first sip of tea in the morning was like falling asleep, but in reverse. If waking up could be as pleasant as a hot cup of tea every day, he would do so eagerly each morning.
"You have news?" He prompted Clarus, who seemed to be debating whether or not the news was fit for a twelve-year-old's ears.
Whether it was or not was immaterial at the moment. She was here and they were not debating that fact. In any case, she was tucked up beneath his chin and he doubted that she was listening to much, save his heartbeat.
Eventually, Clarus seemed to come to this conclusion on his own. "Urgent intelligence arrived from Niflheim early this morning: it seems that one of their Magitek research facilities has been overrun with daemons during the night."
"Overrun? You mean they attacked it?"
"No. We suspect they were inside to begin with."
Ah. The daemon research facility then. And the dogs had broken loose and bitten off the hands that prodded them.
"The capitol is taking measures to keep things quiet, but they've turned their Magitek soldiers on their own research facility. Our eyes in the area report sightings of enormous Magitek machines breaking free of the snow-bound facility to combat the incoming soldiers."
"Their Magitek has gone rogue?" Regis asked.
"At a glance, yes," Clarus said. "I can only assume this has something to do with their daemonic nature."
If Niflheim's Magitek creations were all daemonic at their core—as it was known at least some of them were—then perhaps they answered the same call the daemons did. And what call would the daemons answer, that might send them reeling against their masters? A call that had begun last night.
"What time did this occur, approximately?" Regis asked.
"Close to three in the morning."
Not long after Reina had woken from her Dream. Ergo, not long after Ardyn had returned from Dreams as well.
"The war is over, Father," said a small voice from beneath his chin.
Both of them looked to Reina, who stared up at Regis.
"You can lower the Wall now." She offered him a tentative smile, as if afraid to bring up anything that might remind him how badly she had disobeyed him.
It made no difference. He was still too relieved that she was alive and not lost in Dreams to care that it had been her own defiance that had dragged them all through that harrowing night. He smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. Something would have to be done about her, nevertheless, but it would be decided quietly between him and Crea without any terrified fury involved.
"I sense you have news of your own," Clarus said, looking between the pair of them.
"I suppose we do, though I struggle still to make sense of it," Regis said.
In short order he laid the story before Clarus, attempting to arrange the pieces as neatly as possible from a disjointed perspective. He trimmed unnecessary pieces of the story, merely hinting that they had spent several sleepless hours wondering if she would ever return. Perhaps he would have been more forthright if Reina had not been sitting on his lap, listening throughout. But she was. And she had seen enough despair for one night.
When the tale was through and they had all sat in silence for a minute or two, Clarus cleared his throat. "I can see you've both had a harrowing night. And it may be best if we leave things as they are for the day. But we should make a decision. If this truly spells the end of the war, the sooner the Wall is lowered the better for you, Regis."
Regis sighed. "And yet we cannot simply do so without pomp and circumstance. The Wall has stood over Insomnia for one hundred fifty years. To simply lower it will cause panic in the city—and without, doubtless."
Clarus winced. "An announcement of lowering the Wall, then, will need to be an announcement of the end of the war."
Which, while good news, was still complicated news. As of yet, the war was not officially over. They simply had the assurance of the imperial chancellor—and a twelve-year-old Seer—that hostilities toward Lucis were at an end.
"And the Fulgarian?" Clarus asked. "How do you mean to approach him?"
Regis shook his head. Reina had given him a hint as to what words could be used to leverage the Fulgarian's guilt—though still he wished to discuss them with Sylva—but how precisely to approach him, he had no notion.
"That is a question we shall have to address to the Oracle," Regis said.
"In Her Highness' Dream, you were in flight with the Armiger. Is that a feat you are currently capable of?" Clarus asked.
His insinuation, though not made outright, was clear enough: though Regis had summoned the Armiger on multiple occasions during the past few years, he had not called on the full might of his ancestors while the Wall rested on his shoulders. Was he capable of such a show of power, when he was so worn-down?
"I will do what is necessary to end this storm," Regis said.
