Well, I was hoping to finish a chapter for Unexpected and decided instead to try myself at some really shameless smut (I mean for real this time) and fluff instead. With angsty flashback to top it all. I'm glad you like this story so far and I hope you'll like this chapter. I'm trying something new and I hope I kept it tasteful, although the M rating stands here for a good reason.

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Stranded

Chapter 2 – There are three kind of fire

It had started with fire. For reasons Ravus had never been able to explain, fire was harder to gather and command. He could rain any room with thunder and lightning. He loved storms above anything else, playing out in the rain despite his father's and maid's recommendations. He liked getting back inside, his hands cold, his head fresh and clear from a downpour. Sitting in front of the chimney and its blazing fire always scared him. He'd rather wrap himself in a blanket. And when it came down to using magic, fire proved traitorous for the crown prince. Noct had been supportive during the first few years. Of course, he would understand his failings. He could barely warp from point A to B.

"Did you burn your hands again?" his elder brother would ask, cautious of not gathering anyone's attention.

The 11 years old boy would nod in shame, almost imperceptibly. Noctis was good at dressing wounds. At 15, the dark-haired prince had been in over a hundred battles, be it to protect his younger brother against desperate civilians, facing terrorist assaults on the palace or foiling kidnapping attempts of either of the heirs. Gladiolus was Ravus' shield, but the crown prince wasn't exactly easy to follow. He was independent and liked to learn things from himself, no matter in how much danger that put him. He had refused to have teachers for magic, preferring to perfect his powers on his own. He hated exposing his failures.

"You should teach me which salve works best instead of…"

"And letting you get hurt without anyone learning of it? In your dreams…"

Noctis was always looking out for him. Ravus couldn't help but wonder if it was out of brotherly affection, or for his own sake. As a crownless prince, mocked by the people, barely acknowledged by most of the servants, but still older and physically stronger, Noct had every reason to want him dead. Ardyn had warned him often enough. And their father always seemed to prefer his first born. Was it because he looked less like their mother and didn't remind him of his deceased wife every time he looked into his eyes? Or because the crystal hadn't chosen him, which meant every quality he had, Noctis had earned through blood and sweat?

Ravus still followed his brother into the adjoined bathroom to his quarters, his hands throbbing from the burns. Noctis pulled him up, so he'd sit on the vanity, refusing to hear any protestation.

"How many crystals did you use?"

"No more than 20."

Turning his right hand to check his palm, Noctis winced at the sight of charred flesh. The skin was raw, dark in places. His eyes were hard when they looked back into his brother's irises.

"I'm not stupid, Rav." He growled, cleaning both wounded palms before to apply the healing salve.

"Sometimes I wish you were," the boy sighed, gritting his teeth.

Noctis worked fast, wrapping his hands in cooling bandages in a matter of seconds.

"Maybe you should refrain on the fire. You don't have to master all the elements in order to…"

"Of course, you would say that." Ravus mocked him, jumping down the vanity.

Noctis' shoulders tensed at his tone, but his patience held until Ravus went on, his fool mood getting the better of him.

"You're free like a bird. No magic, no pre-designed path. If your blood wasn't defective, maybe I could snob the fire and…"

Defective. That word had been used so many times to define the first-born prince. His hands turned to fist, but he cut off his brother. He wouldn't lash out. He was older, supposed to give the good example despite all the glares exchanged, despite all the venom poisoning both of their hearts.

"Sometimes, I don't even know why I put up with you…" Noctis observed, motioning his head towards the exit.

And beneath the feigned disdain on his face, Ravus felt the same worry lashing at his heart. Of walking down the same path as his brother. Of being as unworthy as him. Not even worth Noctis' attention or care. The boy was a mass of insecurities deep down. He knew what his birth had caused to the kingdom and their family. He had left their mother too weak to survive. Carried a burden heavier than anything Regis had faced, despite countless attacks from the empire. And when he felt threatened, Ravus closed himself to the threat and attacked right back.

"Because you're not worth anything else. You failed in everything that mattered."

The slap rang like a whip, sending the younger prince to his knees. Ravus' hands throbbed so hard, he couldn't hold back his gasp of pain as he caught himself. Noctis had never raised a hand on him before, never outside of gentle tumble and play.

"Is that how you say thank you?"

"Is that how you fix a wound?!"

"You think this is a serious injury? You think you know anything about pain?"

Ravus should have realized how dangerous the situation was. But he was enraged by the disrespect.

"Want to teach me a lesson, fake prince?"

He raised to his feet, his hands clenching, the bandages feeling too tight against his smarting flesh.

…

The dispute was old, but Ravus remembered how it had ended. Ignis and Gladiolus had had to separate them as bitter words turned into hurtful insults or worse, half-truths the royal family kept buried most of the time. Noctis had never offered to dress any of his wound since then. And now, the memories vividly gnashed at his heart. His wrist itched and burned. The fire had escaped his call, as he practiced before his first lesson of magic to the newly appointed Glaives. The magic had warped, had grown and almost blown into his face. His right arm was burned, the worst of it on his wrist and he desperately wanted to keep it a secret. Because there was no place for failure now.

"You should get someone to look after it." The first councilman murmured, making him jump. He had been alone for the entire lesson, he would have sworn so. But turning around, his sword materializing in his hand, he saw Ardyn Izunia, standing in the magic parlor with him.

"When did you…?"

"I had the intuition someone needed my help. It seems your magic is growing unstable… Once again."

Ravus colored at the accusation. Ardyn might be the only one conscious of his struggles with fire magic. Struggles he had mastered as he grew up and that were suddenly back.

"It's not…"

"I heard your older brother recently visited one of your ancestors' grave. We wouldn't think he'd collect a royal arm, it is your heritage as the chosen king… But then again, what is to be expected of a prince without a future?"

Ravus frowned at the news. Could Noctis even collect a royal arm? And if he did, would that disrupt his powers?

"It shouldn't change anything."

Ardyn nodded, his lips pinched in a thin smile.

"But you know how to make sure nothing changes. I told you before. Noctis will become a danger to you and your crown. He's not a boy anymore. Now he's a man, and he wants any sort of recognition he can have. He stopped caring about what it could mean for you long ago."

And the kicks and punches exchanged after that slap, years ago, were all still fresh in the prince's mind. All proofs of Izunia's suppositions. Not to mention the harsh words Noctis had had for him in every of their following disputes. The guy hated him. Not that Ravus could blame him. It was perfectly reciprocal.

…

"I don't know how I did it." He insisted.

Luna was dead set on having him practice his magic. They were back in her manor and she had taken him to a garden that usually stayed locked.

"It was a spur of the moment action, that much is clear." She observed, moving with purpose, her recently healed arm stiff at her side.

She should have been getting some rest, not worrying about him and he sure as hell didn't want to try himself at magic.

The garden was surrounded by high walls covered with vines or lichen, the inner soil showcasing rows of syleblossoms. Most were a deep blue, but a few had silver petals. A rock imbued with shards of fire elements stood in the center of the garden. His face darkened at the sight. Here was the moment when he started disappointing her.

"It won't work."

"I don't care if it works or not. I just want you to test it out."

Noctis tried to control the anger and dreadful impression that were slowly taking over his heart.

"Of course you care. Magic swordsmen are hard to come by."

"I think the crystal might have been a bit harsh on you. And the feat you managed earlier is way harder than absorbing magic for crystal. My great grandfather liked to watch over the fire shards, but I'll never be able to manipulate something else than light. I'd be quite conceited to think any less of you if it doesn't work."

It was almost harder to admit she'd identify his worries perfectly than to raise one hand to call on the magic that never answered to him. He had heard a dozen variants of what he was supposed to think and feel to make fire bend to his will. And he remembered how hard magic had been to master for Ravus, back in the days they still talked.

"Maybe you should stand a few steps back. Just in case something goes wrong…"

Lunafreya rolled her eyes, but took two steps back, a smile tugging at her lips. He was always putting her security first. It was almost frightening how much she'd come to rely on him in such a short time. She held her breath as he finally tugged at the magic. She'd always perceived something different in his aura, but she wouldn't mention it. She was already freaky enough as it was, with her oracle powers and rash decisions.

Noctis' attempt wasn't resolute like when he'd been a child. He wasn't hoping for a result. So when the shards' glow faltered, he blinked, his breathing quickening at the idea something might have really changed. Red orbs raised in the air, following his influence. He turned his hand around, eyes widening as the globes twirled in answer. He had to be hallucinating. The electric shock he'd been through might have fried some of his nerves. But he tugged and pulled and the magic surged till it dove into his palm, warm instead of burning.

"How the f…"

"On the first try!" Luna congratulated him. "Do you need a flask or…?"

"No, it's…"

He flexed his fingers experimentally, calling forth a small flame, enough to light a candle and extinguishing it almost instantly.

"I can hold it in." His voice was incredulous, but the excitation slowly won over as he dared look up to her.

She'd never seen him smile that much before and felt her heart flutter in reaction. She didn't want to burst his bubble, she hadn't excepted it to work on the first try, but she had to remain practical about their future situation, once he'd use magic on the battlefield.

"Using flasks would make you more believable to the other soldiers."

"I guess I can… try to mix the fire into a flask. It's just… I've tried a hundred times before and always failed. Why is it working now?"

"Maybe because you were in a situation where you needed it. Not to impress people or claim something, but to protect yourself."

The reply instantly came to his mind. To protect you. But he was afraid of admitting deep feelings. Belonging somewhere was really new to him and he didn't want to ruin things.

"Can I have your hand for an instant?" he asked, inspired.

Luna gave him her right hand, clearly curious about his intentions. He simply held it for an instant, with the hand holding the magic, almost hesitant at first, before to let his fingers travel up her arm.

"It works. And it's even stable." He mused.

"Were you thinking I would get a burn?" she asked, feigning shock.

"I hoped you wouldn't. It'd be a crime to damage your beautiful skin."

It was the princess' turn to look incredulous. She'd never thought her skin beautiful, with how pale and transparent it was. But Noctis seemed fascinated by her and she felt her face heating up despite all her efforts.

"Do you have naughty plans for tonight, dear knight?"

The nickname had an undeniable effect on him. If he'd listen to himself, Noctis would have backed her up against a vine-eaten wall and kiss her silly. He'd want to wrap his arms around her from the moment Glauca had drew blood from her. But he refrained himself to a promising smirk, squeezing her hand in his.

"Not tonight, exactly. You need rest from today's fight. But I have a few things in mind."

"Now you've piqued my interest."

She tugged on his arm, their eyes perfectly aligned as she closed the distance between them. Instead of going in for a kiss, Luna whispered into his ear.

"I'll decide when I need rest. And this place is far enough from the manor… No one would hear us."

The sudden closeness and the tone of her voice jolted him awake. And slightly aroused too.

His brain tried to control his body just a few seconds longer, to consider if a meeting had been planned, if either of them was expected anywhere. Then his eyes scanned the garden another time, for dark spots where someone or something could lurk. He noticed a bench that looked a bit too hard, spots of grass that might cushion the ground, but nothing adequate.

"You locked the gates?"

She nodded, unable to hold back her smile at his first concern. He seemed ready to voice more, but she had gripped his collar and linked their lips. It was a bit careless, but they were still fresh from the battlefield. People had died on both sides, casualties that reminded them of how fragile life could be. They'd supported each other in the past with mere looks, but a line had been crossed the other night. As good as it'd been, they both needed more. She reached up for his neck, wincing as the movement woke the pain in her arm.

"If we do this here, you'll be even sorer." He warned her.

"I'm always sore. Kiss me." She ordered back, messing up his hair.

Noctis happily relented, undoing the clasp of her dark cloak to better reach the back of her dress. Their kisses were heated now, lips pulling and nibbling, all soft and wet desire. Her hands toyed with his clothes, undoing buttons, tugging at his belt. He let her skirt fall, gripping her thighs and raising her in the air, her legs wrapping around his waist instantly. Her top might take more work, but he freed one breast from her cleavage, pinching her nipple before to gently trace it with one finger.

"Don't drop me." She pleaded.

"There better not be bugs in those vines," he retorted, cutting her new kiss short to regain his bearing and take a few steps toward the nearest wall.

He was a little rough as he leaned her against the wall, his jacket given up in the middle of her garden, letting go of her breast to shrug off his shirt. Her hands blazed trails of fire all over his torso, nails grazing, hips arching. There was blood on her corset, dried blood on her stomach as her top fell. The sight almost sent him into a rage, but he focused on her instead, pulling her closer to keep her warm as she slowly entangled her legs from him. The friction felt good, but the barrier between them was becoming almost unbearable.

"Can you stand on your own?"

"You're not that…"

His lips closing on one nipple shut her up, her hands gripping to his shoulders as her feet barely touched the ground. The cold air on her skin made her shiver and it mixed up with the tremors of pleasure she felt, slowly building a desperate ache.

"Noct…" she breathed out.

He switched to her other breast, pulling her pants down to her ankles. He had been a lot more talkative last night, almost asking permission for every gesture. And now he was making sure the most sensitive spots were clear in his mind, reviewing her with the tip of his fingers. And his tongue. She tried not to wonder when he'd developed his skills at all of this. No use worrying about the past when she could give herself up to the present.

"Talk to me."

"You'll catch a cold if we keep at it too long," he objected.

"I can heal a…"

His fingers parted her open before to slip inside, toying with her nerves. A circle, a curve, was it one or two of them? Three and his thumb kept the pressure as his fingers curled and circled again, she could barely keep track, her thighs tensing and her hips trying to move over his hand.

"This isn't fair…" she moaned.

"Let me hear you, Luna."

His voice was rough with need and she wanted to wrap herself around him, to move with him, to share this bliss. The pain in his eyes was almost a comfort, but she wanted it gone, she wanted…

"I can barely stand."

"I got you, just let it out. No one else will hear you."

And somehow, she understood it wasn't pure selfishness. It wasn't only about seeing a side of her no one else did. He wanted to please her more than anything, because meeting people expectations had always been denied to the exiled prince. The shudders were getting too close and she held on to him, one hand reaching for his wrist, her face sinking against the crook of his shoulder as climax reached her core. It was a strong one and her cry was anything but fake. But no matter how much she tried to let it out, she still held back. Surrendering entirely was frightening and she was already beyond vulnerable. But she trusted him. He let her ride out the waves of orgasm, holding her up, his fingers still teasing her.

"I want you this time." Luna managed as she looked for her breath.

"Up against the wall?"

And she wanted to thank him for being considerate, but fairness came first and she'd be damned if things ended with just that, no matter how good she felt.

"Now." She insisted, tugging at his waistband.

She kissed him once more, half on the lips, half on the chin since he raised her up without warning. Her left leg wrapped around him and soon he was deep inside her, his arms straining to keep her where he needed her. Luna held him close, clenching her muscles to break his rhythm when she didn't meet his hips head on. His face hid in her neck, his breathing heavy and his jerks growing slightly erratic. The leaves in her back weren't as warm as his skin on her, as the hand that steadied her, or the very feel of him. Hard and soft. Completing her.

"Look at me, Noct."

He gasped at the touch of her hand, pinning her against the wall hard enough for the still intact leaves to crack. One fell on his shoulder and she pushed it away, before to stroke his hair.

"Let me see… your eyes."

It was no order this time, but he complied, their shaky breath mingling as their forehead touched. There was something desperate in his dark blue eyes, his heart open as she opened up for him. Release might come, but he needed more. And she wanted more. Could they be more for each other? Words couldn't begin to explain how it felt, but it was the first time Luna knew. This man was more precious than she'd thought at first. This man could undo her with a simple look. And as he came undone in her arms, Noctis admitted to himself he'd made a terrible mistake. He loved her enough to let her see everything she might see. He simply loved her and could have snatch her away if his principles let him. The words were stuck in his throat, he worried she could see them in his eyes.

They blinked at the same time, a knowing smile growing on both of their face as they remained like this for an instant.

"I don't think I can stand on my own." Lunafreya sighed.

"I don't think I can either."

To be continued…

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Well then, I stayed up freaking late to write this, before it took me some time to manage the right way to angle this. It might feel rushed or intense, but Noctis and Luna are always going to be in intense situation in this. And they desperately need each other to get through it all. Let me know what you think. Next chapter will come out eventually, but not before I manage to finish Unexpected's chapter 34. ;) Know that reviews are the best way to have me updating faster, despite school, work and real life.