Day 40 - 41:

As predicted, days passed before Noctis and the others returned from the Outlands. When he did, he was changed. The weight of the Armiger seemed to affect him not so differently than the weight of the heir's coronet. Even though he had thrown that away, he carried the weight with him when he strode through the Citadel with Ignis at his heels, handling political matters with his unique brand of offhandedness.

He went to speak privately with Father first thing after returning.

Neither of them invited her to their closed-door meeting, as they had avoided letting her into the previous one. A part of her was grateful for it. Father was king, Noctis was his heir, and Reina wanted nothing to do with any of that, even if Ravus had been included where she had not. She could not trust herself with that power anymore. The rest of her felt helpless, watching the two people she loved most in the world make plans to confront the gods when they hardly knew why. Save for a few moments of lucidity, it felt as if she had done nothing since waking.

She sat on a bench far enough down the hall not to be within earshot of the Crownsguards outside Father's door but still near enough to know when they were through with their discussion.

"You seem morose, little Dreamer."

She hadn't heard him approach. Likely because he had not approached.

"I feel so incompetent." She kicked her feet. Every single chair in the Citadel made her feel like a child when she couldn't touch the floor with her feet. "We used to control the world. And now I don't—I can't even—" She clenched her hands on the edge of the bench. "I never thought I was so weak. But this damn Dream reduced me to hopeless insanity."

"Come now, little Dreamer. Don't tell me you believe madness makes you weak."

He had a unique perspective on the world. Sometimes it was disturbing. But most always it was enlightening.

"If anything, I should call it indicative of strength. The human mind is poorly designed, liable to break under strain the slightest strain. That you are mad—if indeed you are—only speaks of how well you lived, surviving those trials. You're here, aren't you?"

"I can't even protect my own family."

"What's stopping you?"

"You've seen me. I don't even know where I am half the time. What could I do?"

"Kill Bahamut," Ardyn said. "Do you really think ghosts from your past would prevent you from taking the power you deserve and putting it to good use?"

Something about the way he said it made her question. "Do you ever see someone or something and it reminds you so strongly of some other event or person that you swear it's real again?"

"In your Dream I killed Lady Lunafreya." Ardyn leaned closer. "Why? Because I'm cruel and heartless and love to cause suffering? You tell me, little Dreamer. You know everything about me, after all."

She had always assumed it was to torture Noctis. And maybe it was, in part. But…

"The woman you loved… she was the Oracle, wasn't she?" She must have been of the same bloodline as Lunafreya and Ravus. Does Luna resemble her as much as Noctis resembles Somnus?

He stood abruptly and turned away without answering her question. "Kill the Draconian, little Dreamer. Before he kills you. Call when you are ready to leave. I'll be waiting."

She sat there until the meeting concluded. No words were spoken of it, though Ardyn's still rolled around in her mind. The evening passed with as little note as possible, everyone tip-toeing around her as they did now.

The following morning, she made plans.

Only a month and a half it had been since she had woken in a new life with a second chance. Too little time to spend with those she loved before she turned away again. But it was better this way.

They would remain in Insomnia. She could focus on eliminating the last threat to their peace without anyone to worry about. But who would watch over Insomnia and ensure they all remained safe? If she wasn't here, how would she know they would be protected?

The answer loomed in her mind, a great shadow that had been towering over her since she had first woken after Daemonfire Night.

She could Dream. She could look ahead and make sure they would be safe—and if they weren't she could return in time to handle any danger. It was an easy decision. A small risk for herself—so small it hardly beared mentioning—in return for guaranteeing everyone's safety. But every time she thought of that black river of time that had dragged her from Dream to Dream for ten long years, her chest constricted like she had been plunged into icy cold water. No amount of logic could crush that senseless terror.

But she would have to do it anyway. Just as she would have to leave her friends and family here in Insomnia. Both would mean they were safer in the long run. Any discomfort it caused her was immaterial. She would protect them.

It had crossed her mind to rebuild the Wall. If they were wrapped within it, she could breathe a little easier. But two things stayed her hand. Firstly, if she was to face Bahamut, she would need every ounce of strength she and the ring had. The last time they had killed him, the ring had been nearly replete. Now it had ten years still to mature.

The second reason was her father. He would be incensed enough when he learned what she meant to do. He would try to hold her back. She was prepared for that. In the end he would have to admit that this was something she needed to do—for Noctis' sake if not his own. But if she had asked to resurrect the Wall he would have put his foot down. Little would provoke such a strong reaction from him as believing his daughter would suffer the same fate he had. Even the healing she had done for him wasn't so terrible.

No. He would never allow it.

She dropped her eyes from the window where the clear sky bespoke the Wall's absence. Her gaze fixed instead on the letter in front of her. A dozen false starts and failed attempts had culminated in this. In the end it wouldn't matter. He was going to be furious no matter what she wrote.

She folded the letter neatly, sealed it, and delivered it to her father's bedside table. He wouldn't return until late tonight. She would have a day's head start, at least, before he sent someone after her or worse, came after her himself.

She would make the most of those hours.

"Ardyn? Are you there?"

"Always, little Dreamer." He hadn't been, moments before. Now he was—a swirling black mist that coalesced into a man.

She held her hand out to him. "Let's go."