*drags lifeless body out from under a pile of adult responsibility, procrastination and writer's block*

look, I swear I have more

I promise I finally like the story's summary and title now. I always fight myself on what to call things and what to write for it. (Call me Little Miss Can't-Stop-Making-Things-Angsty)

—shoutout to my tumblr wife for suggesting a name for Light's mom (I miss you babe ;^;)

Enjoy!

When the young Prince Noctis, heart heavy with grief and head hung in shame, had been summoned that morning after his breakfast, he was certain that he could hear his own funeral march playing. He would probably be grounded for forever. Ignis had come and visited him before he went to bed yesterday night and broke the news gently.

Noctis had broken the Princess Claire's nose and possibly destroyed a very important political relationship all because he had to defend his and Luna's honor. He had deliberated on it all night, tossing and turning and thinking of ways his father might punish him for it tomorrow if she planned on telling on him. (Which he expected she would do.) Not that she wasn't absolutely entitled to getting him in trouble for it. It had been an accident, but the more he dwelled on it, the more and more sure what he had done was his fault entirely. He should have just ignored her. He attacked her and the intent was to hurt her. It didn't make him feel any better that he had actually done it on purpose, but he knew he had to apologize.

So, when his father had asked to see him that morning, he was sure that she had told her parents and that her parents told his dad and now he was dead. His tombstone would read: Here lies Noctis Lucis Caelum. Grounded for Life, in the Most Literal Sense.

With every drag of his feet across the darkened tiles, Noctis felt himself growing more and more sure that he was breathing his last bits of free air. He could kiss that new PlayStation system goodbye. Ignis wasn't there today; he had Saturday lessons and it wasn't like he was going to find an ally in Gladio even if he was there. He was alone in this. Umbra had left sometime in the night with Noct's message and so the Prince was solitary in his impending doom.

With a creak of the large, intricately designed door, Noctis peered into his father's study where he sat, his reading glasses on and papers in his hand. That morning's tea steaming hot was on the desk. He had yet to look up and yet, he spoke, "Come in, Noct."

Noctis gulped. Yep, I am dead.

Slow steps brought him to the front of his father's desk and the boy fell into a deep bow almost immediately, the explanation on the tip of his tongue. His hands went clammy and he felt himself wishing that his warping could let him phase through the floor and disappear.

"Thank you for—what are you doing, Noct?"

He looked at his father through the front of his long hair; King Regis wore confusion and furrowed his brows, having finally looked at his son. Noctis let out a breath he was holding in and his mouth fell open, "Uh…"

Again his father pressed, "Noct?"

He slowly eased back into a straight posture and blinked in surprise, unsure of how to read the situation. Noctis mumbled out, "Princess Claire, her nose…?"

His father set the papers down slowly, a tilt to his head Noctis stiffened his posture, "That is exactly what I was going to talk with you about, Noctis. This morning I was informed that the eldest Princess spent the evening nursing a broken nose—"

Immediately Noctis clenched his hands tightly at his sides, a defensive tone taking ahold of him, "I-I didn't want to do it...and I felt bad that it happened."

His father stared for a moment and Noctis deflated, his shoulders slouched as a frown wiped across his mouth. There was no doubt in his mind that Claire had done everything in her power to make his days worse if she had the chance to tattle. She was so eager to tease and provoke him that telling everyone he broke her nose would seem somewhere in the realm of possibility. The guilt brought his eyes down to his feet and Regis gave a chuckle. Noctis snapped his gaze forward again, unsure what that meant. It was then that his father spoke, "You're not in trouble, Noct. Far from it, if what Princess Claire said was true."

"Huh? I-I'm not?"

"Why would you be in trouble for finding the Princess before she could get hurt worse? I've already issued that the Gardens remain sealed off until we can ensure they are not a danger to anyone else. I called you here to thank you for helping the Princess, Noctis."

Noctis's mouth open and shut like a goldfish and his father stood from his desk, "We are saying goodbye this morning to our friends from Cocoon and I would like you to be at my side as we send them off. I'm sure Princess Claire would appreciate that as well."

"I, uh…" the boy took the pointed look as the cue to accept. It didn't change the fact that he spent the entirety of his trip to through the halls of the citadel as Princess Claire and her family were already preparing for their long trip back home, utterly confused. It didn't make any sense to him. She had no reason to spare him from what could have been the best way to destroy his entire summer.

And frankly, he couldn't trust it.

The two Kings exchanged pleasantries and farewells, the words flying over ahead but Noctis couldn't bother to pay attention to anything but the dangerous smirk on the pink haired Princess in front of him. She had a bandage over her nose, deep purples peeking out from underneath the corners telling him that he'd hit her pretty hard. He gulped as she approached. He didn't know what to expect or what to say and settled on, "I'm sorry about your nose!" And a low bow in hopes that she wouldn't kick him in the shins or something terrible.

Instead she scoffed, and he straightened up, noticing the wince on her face he felt worse about the whole ordeal. Her voice was different, clogged up like she was sick but it was definitely because of her injury, "Thanks for rescuing me, Prince Noctis. Really 'ppreciate it." Despite her discomfort, he saw the curl of her lips again, until her teeth showed into a wide grin and he shifted his weight between his feet, uneasy.

He made sure that he was mostly unnoticed as he stepped closer to ask, in a quieter tone, "Why'd you lie?"

She shrugged, "I'm the only one who gets to avenge my nose, got it? Plus, now you can't say I didn't ever do anything nice for you."

Noctis was about to ask her what she wanted in return—there was no way she'd let him off that easily—but, her mother called her over and she responded to her name, telling her she would only be a moment. The boy was cautious in what she meant by that and he flinched a little when she stuck out her hand between them both. She scoffed and he looked at her hand then back to her face, "Huh?"

"It's a handshake, Prince Noctis," she shook her hand in emphasis. "You can take it as a promise I'm going to ask for that rematch one day, okay?"

"R-rematch?"

"Yeah, better be ready for it, too, Prince Noctis."

She turned after she said that, leaving to be at her sister's side before they left in the long line of black cars accompanied by a full escort. Noctis wasn't sure he knew what that girl was going to do to him to exact her revenge for her nose, but he couldn't let it keep him from getting sleep. In fact, there was a very great chance that he would hardly ever see her again. On the off chance that he did, though...

He shook his head. He'd be fine.

When Claire was little, she remembered sitting on her father's shoulders and resting her chin on the top of his head, she liked that his hair was soft like a cat, the shade a darkened red like a bruised rose petal. She enjoyed seeing the world from that view with her mother laughing in a sun hat. Her smile always brightened any storm away. It was the good life, and she remembered when her little sister Serah entered the picture. She cried and cried because her mother was surely replacing her. With a kiss on each cheek her mother took her up into her arms and rubbed her back, telling her that she would never be replaced. And when Claire had first seen her cherub faced little sister bundled up in a blanket, she had curled up next to her mother in her bed and smiled wide. She couldn't possibly hate something so cute and "Pink, like me!"

She promised her father that day that she would protect Serah from anyone just like a good big sister ought to. Her sister stuck to her side like glue as they grew up and it turned out that Claire didn't mind sharing the view from her father's shoulders.

It wasn't always sunshine and rainbows and butterflies, though, and her sister could be a brat just as much as she, herself, could be cruel. There were more than enough times Claire could remember enduring long-winded lectures seated on a couch, her head hung in shame and her hands fidgeting with guilt. But, she never once shared an ounce of true disdain for her little sister; she knew that she never would. After all, Serah had been her first friend.

She had other friends—other children she had met through many parties. They were complacent, they listened to her every wish, did whatever she wanted to do and they never disagreed with her. They always let her win in every fight and they never did anything that might bring her displeasure.

Prince Noctis did not fit into that equation at all.

And she had never expected to meet a boy that could break her nose and live, but there she stood, anxiously and excitedly awaiting to dock in Altissia for a Political Summit. One that she hoped the Prince would be at, too. The feeling alone was confusing, but then again maybe she was just excited to hold it over his head that he did in fact break her nose and that he owed her. (It had bruised for weeks and weeks and she was lucky it wasn't crooked.)

Her mother had brought her and Serah along as an opportunity to experience the world; her mother wanted to show them the famous canals and city built on water. Her sister was almost all the way over the railing of the boat, staring at the grand architecture of the city. She kept pointing for their father to the angel statues that looked to be watching over the city; he was more worried about keeping her from falling into the water below.

Engrossed in watching the impressive boats that sailed the waters around them, Claire had not noticed her mother's face come near hers. When she spoke, Claire almost yelled in surprise, "Enjoying the view?"

She clutched at her shirt and stilled herself even to the amused smile on her mother's pretty face. Pursing her lips, she complained, "Maman, you scared me!"

"Oh, did I? Were you lost in thought?" Though her mother spoke in the common language of the world as most people did, there was still a Cocoonian flair to each of her sentences as she was native through and through. Her father on the other hand was the the diplomat and politician making sure that his accent was nigh impossible to detect lest any of his words be heard incorrectly by any other ear. Quite the pair they made at summits.

"I was looking at all the boats " she pushed a stray piece of her hair from her face. Her mother straightened and leaned against the railing, the sea breeze blowing in her hair like she could be plucked up and placed on one of the pedestals to replace the angels that stood around them. Claire climbed so that she stood on the rails, looking out the the bay again.

Her mother smiled, placing an arm around her shoulders, a comforting gesture that forced Claire to slide closer to her side. "I am sorry your father and I cannot enjoy this as a vacation, Claire, but the next time we come here, we'll be sure to do whatever you and Serah wish, okay?"

"It's okay, I know it's important being King and Queen. You have to make sure we keep our ties with our allies strong."

"What did I do in a past life to get such a smart daughter, hm?" She smiled, squeezing her arm affectionately. "I think I must've been a Saint."

"You're silly!"

"Silly? I'm silly? My heart!" Bringing a hand to clutch at her would be broken heart had she not been overplaying the entirety of her performance, her mother placed the back of her free hand onto her forehead, "How could my precious daughter say that to me? I'm hurt; I knew you were to good to be true! Oh, woe is me!"

"Oh hey! You're crushing me!" Claire shrieked and giggled as her mother's back began slowly pressing onto her body, as if her mother were collapsing into a weeping mess.

The Queen continued with her act, sighing, "The weight of your words are too much, Claire, I am too weak…"

"Help! Serah!"

"What are you two doing?" The Princess's refuge came in the form of her father's question. From what she could make out from under the waterfall of pale hair that cascaded in front over eyes, she could see her sister and her father approaching. She tried to push on her mother to prevent herself from being completely squashed but it was difficult considering her angles.

"Help!"

"I'm dealing with a crushing blow! Honey, mind me not," Her mother switched to a completely neutral tone for an explanation, breaking character but not the sly smirk on her lips.

"Claire, don't be mean to Mommy!" Serah threw her small arms around her mother's leg in hopes of shielding her from any harm.

"I-I didn't say anything! Papa, help me! She's crushing me!" Claire was bending awkwardly from the slight pressure of her mother's over exaggeration.

"Honey…" Her father's voice held the smallest hint of being amused. He was mostly a serious man, but even he couldn't resist the charm of his family's antics.

Her mother sighed, "You're no fun."

"You shouldn't crush them. Who else is going to take care of us when we're old?" Pulling a stern expression, he crossed his arms. The King of Cocoon was a handsome man, his hair a dark red, almost black, that only burned scarlet when the sun hit it just right, but his features were blocky and made him look older than he was.

"You'd never get old, dad! You're the strongest dad I know, duh?" Claire hopped down from the railing and put her hands on her hips as sure as her word.

"Duh? You hear that, duh? They get that from you. You let them get away with too much."

Dramatic as ever, her mother bent down to gently squash Claire's cheeks with her one hand. She pressed her cheek against Claire's face, feigning distress, "Look at her sweet face, honey, I can't help it! I make beautiful children. Sweet and sour, but beautiful. You can thank me, sweetie." Claire batted away again at the embarrassing show of affection. Standing straight, her mother laced her arm through the King's and lovingly rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Your father would have named you Frigg, given the chance."

"What's wrong with that name? With Odin as her eidolon it would be a sensible and strong name with meaning," he was only slightly defensive it seemed.

"Ah, mon amour, you're serious, so cute when you pout," The Queen placed a chaste kiss upon his lips.

"Blegh, stop!" Claire covered her eyes and Serah giggled.

"Perhaps we should have left the children at home, my Queen."

Claire pulled her cheeks down, and soured her face into a frown, "My eyes are gonna melt!"

"When you are in love one day, you'll embarrass your children too, Claire."

Pouting and crossing her arms, Claire turned her head away from her parent's overly lovey-dovey display, "No way! Yuck! I don't ever wanna fall in love with anyone then!"

"Not even if Prince Shortstack asked you?" Serah poised the question innocently enough, but Claire was quick to scoff and burn cherry red in the face.

"W-what are you even talking about, why would he come to mind at all?!"

"What is this?! My Claire likes someone!?" Their mother's attention piqued at the sound of something so interesting as her oldest daughter having a crush on someone else and she clapped her hands excitedly and eagerly to hear more.

Claire put up her hands and waved them frantically, resorting to her usual plea in their native tongue in hopes it would add authenticity to her words. "Non, maman! No, I don't! Serah, be quiet! I don't like anyone!"

"Then, who is this Prince Shortstack?"

"It's no one—"

"It's Prince Noctis, Momma! Claire's been talking about him all week. Me and Mog heard her!" Serah clarified and Claire stood, horrified.

"Serah! I'm gonna—"

And before she could strangle her little, giggling betrayer of a younger sister, the boat's horn went off. Attention was drawn to the approaching dock and an attendant came with news that they were indeed ready to port. It was a saving grace from above and she tapped her burning cheeks, fleeing ahead of them to get off the stupid boat and away from her teasing family. There was no way she'd ever like Prince Noctis like that! He was her friend! He was barely tall enough to look her in the eyes anyways.

He probably wasn't attending anyways. He had not travelled since he was very little, when he had met Lunafreya, or at least that's what people had told her. So, the chances that he'd be at something so far from home was slim, right?

She shook her head. She'd be fine.

—where as Noctis is in like Latin 101, Claire was a product of one semester in French I took.

I have much planned for these little hooligans and all their youthful shenanigans before I set them on the path of puberty

until next time my lovelies~