MIRACLE ON XVth STREET

by SharkFaceEvans

✥PART THREE✥

✥The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come✥

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the palace

The hallways were decked like a Yule borealis.

The stockings that hung by the fire were well-stocked,

And not a creature was stirring except for Prince Noct.

No visions of sugar plums danced in his head

As the guilt he'd been holding weighed heavy like lead.

So he'd leapt out of bed and he'd gone for a walk

When a crash and a clatter unnerved the young Noct.

"Dammit, Iggy! Why the hell are we breaking in through the chimney? I think you're taking your role a little too literally."

"Shush, Gladio! It's the only way to get past the Citadel's tight security. Honestly, would you rather play the part of Father Christmas instead?"

"Hell, no! There's no way I'm wearing Ardyn's second-hand clothes."

"Then keep your shirt on, Crownsguard. And be thankful that the royal chimneys are large enough to accommodate even your size."

"Grateful? I'm covered in coal dust!"

"Well I think it soots you."

"Wish I could say the same about your outfit. No one's going to trust a Santa without a paunch and a beard."

"Trust me, Gladio, we're going to have all of Citadel's security descending on us if we don't shut up and focus. We need to start searching for Noct so we can warn him about the time crystal melting."

"Yeah, you're right. Citadel's kind of huge, though. Think we ought to split up? Iggy?"

"Shhh! Someone's coming."

Slipping and skidding and turning around,

Noct raced down the dark, palace hall with a bound.

And there was Saint Nick, dressed in red, head to foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

His eyes, how they glowered; his scowl—how scary!

His droll little mouth was now shamelessly swearing.

Then Noct caught his eye; with a twist of his head

Father Christmas turned white as a gowned newlywed.

"Your Highness!" Ignis gasped. His head spun with the impossible realization that he was beholding his liege at the age of… what, ten years, perhaps? This was precisely what Ardyn had warned them to avoid, but Ignis simply couldn't stop staring.

The young prince gawked back at him in the darkness, then slowly reached for the room's light switch.

"No, don't!" Ignis yelped, then quickly settled into a deeper, calmer voice. "Let's not wake anyone." He put a finger to his lips and attempted a hearty "ho-ho-ho" that sounded more like he was choking.

"Did my dad tell you to dress up as Father Christmas?" the boy asked, bluntly.

Ignis rapidly realized that the jadedness he had sensed in the older Noctis earlier that day was not a recent thing… apparently the prince had always been a bit of a skeptic.

"Ah, well, yes," Ignis improvised, glad it was dark enough to hide his features, and glad that Gladio seemed to have had the sense to hide behind the nearest sofa. Still, this was not an auspicious start to rescuing their liege. "Just here to deliver your gifts. Sorry to have woken you, Your Highness."

The boy frowned. "I was up anyway. Where's your pack?"

"Sorry?"

"Your pack of toys. You're supposed to be Father Christmas, aren't you?"

"I've got the pack," Gladio called out, appearing from the gloom of the great room with a large bag over his shoulder. Ignis instantly recognized it as their camping supply bag, but he hoped little Noctis wouldn't be so discerning.

The young prince took a step back, alarmed. "Who are you?"

Gladio glanced between Noctis and Ignis, then said, "Santa's helper, who else?"

The young prince clearly wasn't buying it. His eyes darted between the two of them. Then, in a tentative voice that tried to sound brave, he asked, "You're two of the homeless people my dad took in, aren't you? Are you here to steal something or… kidnap me?"

"Decidedly not!" Ignis huffed. "Can't you see I'm supposed to be Father Christmas?"

"You shouldn't be here," Noctis insisted. "My dad should never have let you people in." Despite the anger in his voice, the young prince seemed close to tears. "I'm warning you," he said, "all I have to do is scream, and the servants will come running."

"Dammit," Gladio cried, "we are your servants… you just don't recognize us like this."

"Well, who can blame him?" Ignis snapped. "You are rather large for an elf."

"And you're rather tall and slender for Father Christmas, so shut it."

"Don't talk like that in front of His Highness."

"Well then stop wasting time… or have you forgotten we've precious hours left to find Noct and…" Gladio caught himself, "and, um, deliver his… you know, toys."

"That's more like it. Now pull yourself together, Crownsguard." Ignis clapped a hand over his mouth, but of course it was too late to eat his words. He would have never guessed that he'd be the first to break character… one of the reasons they'd decided to dress him in Ardyn's Father Christmas attire instead of Gladio.

"Huh… nice going," Gladio muttered, shaking his head.

Nervously, they both turned their gazes to the young prince, who stared up at them with a mix of dismay, disapproval, and disbelief. Please don't call the guards, Ignis pleaded silently, but the prince had clearly already made up his mind, had already taken a step back, had already opened his mouth to cry for help. In a moment, their Christmas charade would all be over…

Noct spoke not a word, but turned with a jerk

As a hand gripped his shoulder from out of the murk

And a quiet voice spoke, "Now don't be surprised.

Just run to your room and I'll deal with these guys."

And giving a nod, little Noctis made haste

Without getting a glimpse of his rescuer's face.

But he heard him exclaim once he was out of sight,

"How did you guys know that I'd be here tonight?"

Ignis took a deep breath, steadying himself after the close encounter with the younger version of their liege, relieved to see the present-day Noctis at last. "Noct, you're here. Thank the gods."

Noctis just stared back at him, silent and grim, as if waiting for the inevitable scolding.

Gladio, it seemed, was only too ready to deliver it. "What the hell were you thinking, Noct, trusting an ass like Ardyn and traveling back in time? Don't you realize what kind of mess you could have gotten yourself into, risking everything like this?"

Noctis, who was usually so easily cowed by Gladio's harsher criticisms, didn't flinch. If anything, the young man seemed to be steeling himself for a fight. Ignis thought he'd better intervene before Gladio's temper got the better of him.

"Noct," Ignis said, quietly. "We're only here to keep you safe and bring you back home."

Noctis seemed distracted though. "Why the hell are you dressed like that, Igz?"

Ignis looked down at his Father Christmas garb and blushed. "We were attempting to be inconspicuous… ah, never mind. The important thing is, Ardyn's been playing a trick on you, sending you here. You see…"

"Trick?" Noctis interrupted, angrily. "Ardyn didn't send me here. I asked him to bring me. To this time and place. Christmas Eve. This way, I finally have a chance to…" But Noctis choked as emotion rose in his throat.

Ignis felt moved with pity. "We know what you came here to do, Noct, but it's reckless. You can't let yourself be seen… not even to speak to your father."

Noctis scowled. "What makes you think I'm here to speak with my dad?"

"But that's why you've come here, isn't it? Noct, seriously, listen to me. You mustn't be seen by anyone. It could change your future irrevocably."

Noctis looked down at his feet, but in more of a petulant manner than a chagrined one. "Honestly, after all that's happened, would that be so bad?"

"Yes, it would!" Ignis huffed, exasperated. "We've come so far, and you still have your throne to reclaim… oh, Noct, just trust us!"

"No!" Noctis shouted back. "Trust me for a change! I have to do this."

"But you've already run into—even spoken to—your childhood self."

"Can't the same be said for you? You've also been seen now. Who's making the actual mess of things here?"

"You are!" Gladio interjected. "You took the aid of a madman because you let your grief get in the way. And you didn't even tell your friends!" Gladio paused to temper his voice to a more reasonable keel. "Look, I know you're still mourning everything you've lost, but we're supposed to stick together."

"We get it, Noct," Ignis added. "It's Christmas. But that's no reason to let our emotions take charge of us."

The hurt of the words showed clearly on Noctis' face, but his voice trembled with anger. "Why do you guys assume I'm some kind of emotional wreck? I don't need the two of you trying to parent me."

"Then, stop being a child," Ignis cried.

Noctis flinched, as though he had been struck in the face. He stared at Ignis, who realized too late how painful it was to have his liege look at him like that.

"Noctis… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said…"

"Why did you even come after me?" Noctis demanded, cutting Ignis' apology short. "You two were stuck at camp! You shouldn't have even known I was gone. I was planning to make it back to Lestallum at the exact time l left, no harm done."

Ignis was quiet for a moment as he let Noctis' words sink in. He swallowed hard. "Your Highness… you didn't return at the exact time you left. That's why Gladio and I have been looking all over for you."

Noctis stared at him. Even in the dark, Ignis could tell that the color was draining from his face. "Oh," he said.

"I'm just hoping we're not too late," said Ignis. "No time to waste. Let's get you back to your proper time and place… Noct?"

But the prince had taken a step back and was shaking his head. "You two can go ahead. I'll return in the morning."

"Noct, your time is shorter than you think. Ardyn gave you a time crystal, too, right? Problem is, that crystal…"

"Will give me all the time I need," Noctis insisted. "Look, I'm sorry, guys… sorry I put you through all this trouble." He looked away suddenly, taking a slow, shaky breath, before continuing. "I'm sorry for everything, really. I'm sorry I'm not the king you've needed me to be. And I'm sorry we don't have enough gil for a proper Christmas. And Igz, I… I'm really sorry I used all your coffee beans and kept silent about it. I thought they were just regular beans so I fed them to the fish the last time I went fishing to draw them closer to the dock."

Ignis sighed and waved a dismissive hand. "I'd already figured it was you, Noct. No point in reliving the past. All the more reason to return to the present."

"But it wasn't right!" Noctis insisted. "And… well, I need to make things right now, once and for all. I have to relive this. So, I'm sorry, but I can't leave with you guys because…" Noctis hesitated, his expression darkening. "Because I know the Citadel better than you. I'm better at hiding, better at being unseen… and I'm sorry, but no matter how hard you look, you won't be able to find me."

Noctis turned suddenly and fled out into the hall.

"Noct!" Ignis cried. "Gladio, quick! Stop him!"

Gladio was already racing out of the room after their liege, Ignis close on his heels. They ran down the hall and turned a corner, but then the larger Crownsguard stopped short, causing Ignis to slam into him.

"Gladio? What on Eos…"

"He's gone… Noct's gone! I swear he went this way, but I turned the corner and he just wasn't there. Dammit, since when did he learn to outrun me?"

Ignis frowned, looking about. "He didn't. There must be a secret passageway nearby."

Gladio stared. "A what now? How come I've worked so long in the Citadel and never heard of any secret passageways?"

"Probably because they're only to be used by royalty. Noct told me about them just this morning in Lestallum. Said he used to hide in them as a child. For fun. And to get away from the servants." Ignis sighed. "Of course, this time, that means us. Gods, he wasn't joking about being unseen."

"Well, I don't think Ardyn was joking either about running out of time." Gladio grabbed Ignis by his red, fur-lined collar just as he had with Ardyn mere hours earlier. "We gotta tell Noct about the time crystals melting. Ours is already half-gone. He may only have minutes left before he's stuck here forever!"

Ignis felt himself shaking in Gladio's grip, but he wasn't afraid of the powerful Crownsguard holding him… he was afraid of the damage he himself might have already done, unwittingly scaring Noctis off. "Dammit, Gladio, we tried. Noct's always been a bit of a stubborn brat, you know that."

"So this is Noct's fault now, huh?"

"Yes… no. I don't know. Gods, I hope we haven't screwed this up too badly. You're right, Gladio… we can't give up on him. We have to get Noct out of here before the crystal melts."

"At least your head's back in the right place." Gladio released his grip on Ignis' outfit. "So, what do we do now?"

Ignis knew he was looked up to by the others as the brains of any operation, but he felt at such a loss. He looked around, helplessly. The Citadel was huge… that much he knew. Plus, it was dark except for the soft shimmer of candlelight and tinsel in the windows. They would have to be absolutely quiet while searching the place, which could take hours… no, days. No matter how hard you look, you won't be able to find me. He had underestimated the prince, and perhaps even lost their only chance to rescue him.

Calm down, Crownsguard, and focus, Ignis told himself. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to the Citadel's impressively high ceiling, adapting his usual thinking pose, chin in hand.

"Well, Iggy?" Gladio asked.

Ignis slowly turned, and with a rather Father Christmas-like twinkle in his eye and a snap of his fingers, he cried, "That's it… I've come up with a new plan!"

Noctis couldn't sleep. Gone were his angry thoughts towards his father for leaving him alone on Christmas Eve to host his banquets. Instead, he kept wondering who the two intruders in the great room had been, and whether the mysterious servant who had rescued him had finally gotten rid of them.

The young prince sat up suddenly in bed, hearing a noise—a slight scuffling sound—outside his bedroom door. He slipped out of bed and crept quietly across the room, pressing an ear to his door, but the hall outside was silent once more.

Slowly, Noctis pulled open his door and peered out into the hallway. No one was there, but a slight movement near his hand caught his eye. A stocking had been hung on the doorknob outside his door, and the action of pushing the door open had left it swaying gently. Noctis didn't remember having seen it there earlier in the evening. He slipped it off the door handle, and felt something papery inside. Reaching in, he withdrew a folded letter with H.R.H.N.L.C. scripted across the back. Unfolding it, he read:

To His Royal Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum,

Father Christmas needs your help! Should you choose to accept this honor, it is imperative that these instructions be followed with the utmost precision in order to save Christmas Day. After all, only you know where to find the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come…

Heart beating with excitement, Noctis slowly smiled as he read the letter. A secret mission… Was his father playing a game with him in the spirit of Christmas after all?

"Iggy, you sure this is going to work?" Gladio asked.

"Well, it's the best shot we have," Ignis sighed. "Looks like we'll be leaving Noct to his own fate after all. Only he can save himself now. Come… we best wait for him in Lestallum. Check on Prompto, too."

"So, you're saying that when we arrive in Lestallum, Noct should already be there?"

"If his younger self doesn't fail in his mission, yes. He's gotten our letter with our warning about the crystal. Now he just needs to deliver it. Shouldn't be a problem for the boy to navigate those secret passageways. And only he knows Noct's favorite hideouts."

"Thought they weren't supposed to see each other."

"That's why Noctis is the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come in the letter… just in case his younger self recognizes him."

Gladio snorted. "Seems like quite a gamble. For a kid who doesn't even believe in Father Christmas, it's unlikely he'll assume Noct is a simply some phantom of his future self."

"And that's where we have to trust Noct. Only he knows his younger self well enough to handle the encounter." Ignis reached to push his non-existent spectacles up his nose. "Besides, the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be discovered. I think we both have to admit it at this point, Gladio— neither one of us is particularly good at subterfuge. I, for one, am more than ready to strip out of this confounded costume."

Gladio shook his head, defeatedly. "What is it Noct wants so badly, he's willing to risk everything like this?"

"I assumed it had something to do with his father… some parting words or the like." Ignis frowned. "But why Christmas Eve? And why so far back in the past? I'm rather second-guessing myself at this point. It was poor sport of me to cut His Highness off just as he was trying to explain himself." Ignis shook his head, absently picking at the fur-lined cuff of his sleeve. "I do hate it when I do that."

"Don't beat yourself up, Iggy," Gladio consoled him, placing a hand on Ignis' shoulder.

Embarrassed, Ignis brushed it aside. "Come… we had better use this crystal to get back to our time before it melts from your hot temper."

"Hah, you're the one with 'fire' in your name. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it."

Ignis smiled, despite himself. "As they say, for hearth and home. Let's be sure we're there for Noct when he returns."

Lestallum was dead quiet. The noise from the Owl's Nest had even died down. It truly was a silent night. Seeing no sign of Noctis in the town square, Ignis and Gladio made their way back to the clinic where Prompto was no longer humming Christmas carols, but was finally soundly asleep. They sat by his bedside, exhausted, and waited. Out in the empty streets of Lestallum, Christmas Eve stole by in hushed, breathless moments, each increasingly painful with the ache of the prince's absence. The cold glow of a streetlamp cast the shadowy shape of the window frame across the clinic floor like an open grave. Still, Noctis did not return.

"Iggy?" Gladio whispered in the dark.

"What is it, Gladio?"

"I mean, is it just me? Or did something go wrong?"

"Please, Gladio… I'd rather not conjecture."

"But you said he'd be here."

Ignis, now dressed once more in his usual garb, sighed as his call to Noctis went directly to voicemail for what felt like the thousandth time. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair they'd each been provided by the clinic staff. "Perhaps he returned ahead of us and found a place to sleep in a motel. Or perhaps he's doing odd jobs for Exineris again. Who knows. Let's simply hope we find him in the morning. Now, please, for the love of the gods, Gladio, get some sleep."

But Ignis knew sleep was unlikely to come for either one of them. He had a sinking feeling inside his chest. Something they had done had distorted time. Ardyn had warned them about this. Perhaps Noctis could no longer reunite with them. Perhaps he hadn't received the message from his younger self. Perhaps the crystal had melted too soon. Perhaps… perhaps the Chosen King no longer even existed anymore.

Ignis wanted to kick himself for the poor way he had handled the entire situation. Noctis' parting words kept haunting him: No matter how hard you look, you won't be able to find me. It was if the prince had pronounced his own curse on himself.

Finally, unable to quell the disconcerting thoughts swirling in his mind, Ignis stood. "I'm going to ask the nurse for a few things to keep myself busy. Keep watch over Prompto, Gladio. We can't risk losing another one of us." As he spoke, his voice cracked with emotion, which he'd been holding at bay for hours. Just this morning, his biggest concern had been making Noctis comfortably warm for Christmas… now it didn't matter to him if the prince hogged the whole tent or drank all of his coffee. All Ignis wanted for Christmas was to have his liege and close companion back.

"Ignis… hey, Ignis, wake up…"

Ignis opened his eyes groggily, wondering for a moment where the tent had gone. Finally, the world came into focus, and he realized he was slouched halfway off his chair in a medical clinic in Lestallum.

"Oh goodness… I must have dozed off." Ignis sat up, suddenly realizing who had spoken to him. "Prompto! Are you feeling better?"

Prompto chuckled. "Yeah, right as Altissian rain. Oh, and looks like you've got a little drool down the side of your face. Might want to check yourself before you wreck yourself, you know."

"And who is the wreck here exactly?" Ignis asked, reddening with embarrassment as he swiftly wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

Gladio joined Prompto in a bout of good-humored laughter, and though it was at his expense, Ignis smiled.

"Well, I have to say, it is a relief to see you in good health again, Prompto… or at the very least, conscious."

Prompto grinned. "Yeah, sorry for worrying you guys like that. Say, where's Noct? Don't tell me he's gone to get breakfast without us!"

There was an awkward silence that seemed to last far longer than was bearable.

"Uh… guys?" Prompto asked. "Something wrong?"

Gladio turned away and bowed his head, opting out of explanation. Ignis sighed. "Well, we aren't exactly sure where Noct is at the moment."

"What do you mean, not sure?" Prompto asked, sharply. "He's the one who brought me here, right? Sheesh, I know I was out of it, but I remember that much!"

Ignis coughed. "Yes, well, he seems to have had a run-in with Ardyn."

"That guy again? You put him in his place, right?"

When neither Crownsguard answered, Prompto tried again. "I mean, you guys were there for him, right? Protecting him?"

Ignis looked away as the wave of guilt and despair he'd been trying to dodge all night hit him squarely in the chest. "I tried to help…" he barely whispered, "but I'm afraid I may have frightened His Highness off instead."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Iggy," Gladio objected, clapping him hard on the back.

Ignis looked down at his lap. "How can I not be? He was right there in front of us. And now he's…" He couldn't bring himself to say the word "gone." Instead, his hands fidgeted restlessly with the project he had been working on all night.

"What's that?" Prompto asked.

"My reason to keep believing he'll come back," Ignis replied, examining the pair of red, hand-knitted gloves in his hands.

Gladio and Prompto looked perplexed.

"His Highness gave away the pair I bought him yesterday to a young boy in Lestallum," Ignis explained, recalling the kid who had waved at Noctis in the square, thanking the prince for bringing the heat back to his home, both hands gloved in brand-new leather. "So, I thought I'd make him a new pair."

Prompto gawked. "Wait, you made those all in one night?"

"I couldn't sleep." Ignis set the gloves aside and hid his face in his hands. "And I couldn't give up."

He also couldn't hold it in anymore. His shoulders shook with sobs as he felt Gladio's hand on his back again.

"Ignis…" Prompto breathed, apparently shocked to see his fellow Crownsguard so broken.

"Prompto… Gladio…" Ignis choked, unable to raise his head and face them as he spoke. "I believe we could all really use a Christmas miracle right about now. And not the kind that Ardyn promised. That turned out to be but a curse. I mean, a real miracle, a gods-send… if such a thing exists."

Ignis picked up the pair of gloves he'd spent the night knitting and pressed them to his face. "Please…" he whispered to no one in particular, "I would do anything for him. Just please bring him back…"

The boy looked down at the stranger in black huddled on the stone floor in the corner of the narrow passageway. A black, winter coat enrobed the man so that Noctis couldn't make out his face under the hood. A chill ran up the young prince's spine as he ran the beam of his flashlight across the stranger's body to ascertain that he was, indeed, flesh and blood. The man must have had to crawl on hands and knees to get down here, which seemed a bit drastic for a servant just playing a part in his father's game. It seemed far more likely that he was yet another homeless man. He certainly looked undernourished and his clothes were worn and mud-spattered.

Suddenly, the stranger groaned and shielded his face with a hand. The light must have woken him. Young Noctis quickly hid the flashlight behind his back as the man muttered, "Who's there?"

"Are… are you… the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?" Noctis was dismayed to hear how small and shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and tried for more bravado. "Are you the one the letter says I'm supposed to find?"

The stranger sat up slowly, pulling his knees up to his chest where he could rest his arms on them. His tangled, dark hair sticking out from under the hood hid most of his face, but his mouth twitched up in a smile. "A ghost, huh? Sure… sounds about right."

"I… uh… was sent to deliver this to you," said the young prince, holding out the folded letter. "By Father Christmas."

"Father Christmas?" the man asked. "I didn't think you believed in Santa."

Noctis hesitated, then stammered. "Well, no… of course not. But I'm on a mission to save Christmas and… I have a message." He hurriedly unfolded the letter and shone his flashlight on it. "When the ice crystal sheds its final tears, time shall hold fast the frozen years." He blushed suddenly, realizing how stupid it all sounded. "Sorry. It's just a silly game. I shouldn't have… Never mind." He turned to run back the way he had come, back to his bed where he should have stayed.

"No, wait!" the stranger said, starting to stand, but his head collided with the low ceiling of the passageway, and he quickly sat down again. Little Noctis heard him suck in his breath through his teeth.

"You okay?" the boy asked.

"Yeaaah, I'll be fine," the stranger muttered. "Didn't mean to do that." He groaned as he leaned back against the passageway's rough, stone wall and took a deep breath. "Truth is, Your Highness, I came here to find you as well. You see, I… need your help."

"Me?" Noctis blinked in disbelief, suddenly wary that this stranger recognized him as the crown prince. He shone his flashlight at the man's face again. "Who are you?"

The stranger shielded his face once more. "Do me a favor and put that away, would you?" he grumbled. "I can't see a damn thing."

Embarrassed, Noctis hurriedly switched off the light. Suddenly, they were both plunged into complete darkness, and for a while, all they could hear were each other's breathing.

"Sorry," the boy whispered after a moment. "You're probably freezing down here, aren't you? My dad… I mean, the King… he's prepared a bunch of rooms for anyone who needs them tonight. I can show you to one."

"That's very kind of you, Your Highness," said the stranger. "Thank you, but it seems, I don't have that long."

Light flared into the darkness momentarily as the man struck a match and, kneeling so that he didn't hit his head again, lit one of the candles in the collection the boy kept gathered in the corner. "Sorry… I know you don't like the dark," the stranger apologized. "I'm not the biggest fan either. But as for the cold, you needn't worry about me. I've never minded it much. At least, not when I know others are even colder."

The stranger dropped his hood, shrugged off his winter coat, and then held it out to the prince. Without the shroud, the man looked much more human, much less like the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Noctis could now make out the faint glimmer of his eyes behind a mess of hair, a smile still playing softly across his lips. "Here," the stranger said. "This is for you. I think you know what to do with it."

The boy slowly took the offered coat, his mouth dropping open with surprise at its rich softness. "But… how did you know?"

The man reached out and placed a hand on Noctis' head, tousling his hair the way his father always did. "One day, you'll know, Your Highness. All I can say for now is, you're the reason I'm here tonight. Deliver that coat, and your mission will be complete. Now," he added brightly, withdrawing his hand, "remind me… which way to the kitchens?"

The boy pointed.

"Great… gotta pick up something before my time's up." But the stranger hesitated, his voice breaking as he added, "Your dad loves you, you know… don't forget that."

The boy tried to look into the stranger's face once more, but the man turned away suddenly and snuffed the candle flame out. "Thank you for saving Christmas," Noctis heard him say, before the shuffle of the intruder's steps disappeared down the passageway. Noctis switched his flashlight back on, but the stranger was gone.

It wasn't until a while later, as he lay in his bed once more, hugging the coat tightly to his chest, that the prince recalled how the so-called "Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come" had used the phrase "remind me" when asking for directions to the kitchens… a strange word choice for a stranger to the Citadel.

It was a somber Christmas morning for the three Crownsguards in the Regalia, slowly driving back to camp in defeat after scouring Lestallum once more for their missing liege.

"I don't understand…" Prompto murmured from the passenger seat. "Why would he just trust Ardyn like that? I know if someone offered to take me on a trip with some magic crystal that could mess me up, I'd be like, aww hell no."

"I think we all underestimated Noctis' grief at losing his father… especially at Christmastime," Ignis sighed from the backseat. His customary position of driver had been taken up by Gladio on account of his missing spectacles. "To be honest, I could tell he was brooding over something on our drive to Lestallum yesterday. And, of course, it's natural to want to be with family this time of year, but…" he trailed off, a million "what-ifs" jockeying for preeminence in his mind. Noctis, Gladio, Prompto… himself… they all had lost family when Insomnia had fallen. It had been a heaviness each of them had carried silently, not wishing to burden each other, and least of all, Noctis, with their private grief. Looking back, Ignis supposed their mutual muteness had lulled them all into a false sense of each other's fortitude… when in reality, they had merely been ignoring each other's suffering. Why had he never thought to ask Gladio and Iris how they were holding up over the loss of their dad, or whether or not Prompto had managed to reconnect with his adoptive family? They'd been camping together, traveling together, fighting together, but each had sat alone in their own personal prison of anguish.

"There's no point in second-guessing yourself, Iggy," Gladio muttered from the driver's seat. "And in case you've forgotten, we're all to blame one way or another."

"Yeah," Prompto agreed. "I mean I feel kind of bad I was completely useless the entire time. And in a way, it's all my fault for getting injured to begin with."

"No, enough of this!" Ignis spoke, decisively. "It's Christmas, for Astrals' sake, and I bought us groceries for a nice dinner. So, gentlemen, chins up, and let's at least not let our feast go to waste… even if we can't make merry."

The other two nodded, but their hearts were clearly not in it.

As the campsite appeared around the bend in the road, Prompto suddenly cried, "Wait… is that Noct?"

"What… where?" Ignis demanded, wishing he could see better.

"Our errant prince has returned!" Prompto crowed, tugging at the door handle even though the car was still in motion, but Gladio held him back by the arm.

"That's no prince…" Gladio muttered, "It looks like… a snowman."

"Oh, you're right," Prompto said sadly, then, "Hang on… no, it's four snowmen."

"Don't tell me someone's vandalized our camp while we were gone," Ignis fumed.

As they pulled up to the campsite and clambered out of the Regalia, they could see that Prompto had been right. There were, indeed, four snowmen standing outside the tent to greet them, built from the drifts of snow that had blown in during the storm.

"I daresay, those are my spectacles!" Ignis exclaimed, pointing to one snowman's face. "Someone must have found them."

"And that's my camera!" Prompto yelled excitedly. He ran up to remove it from around the second snowman's neck.

"And… Cup Noodles?" Gladio approached the third snowman, suspiciously, and took the Styrofoam cup from the grill spatula that was serving as its arm. Indeed, all the snowmen's appendages were made from an assortment of Ignis' kitchen utensils. "Huh…" Gladio murmured, "still warm."

"And that…" Prompto added, pointing to the final snowman, "that is definitely Noct's jacket."

"Impossible…" Gladio muttered. "He would never lose the jacket."

"But then, that means…" Ignis began.

They all turned at once to the tent as the sound of a zipper on the front entrance alerted them to yet another presence. The front flap was pulled aside, and a familiar head poked itself out into the cold Christmas morning air.

"Uh, guys, can you keep it down?" Noctis asked. "Been a rough night. I'm trying to sleep here."

Ignis gaped. "Noctis… Lucis… Caelum!"

But before he could aim a tirade of fury and affection at the long-lost prince, Prompto let out a whoop and tackled his best friend. "You made the snowmen after all! You're the best, Noct buddy… absolutely the best!"

"Yeah, yeah… whatever you say," Noctis muttered, groggily.

"How on Eos did you make it back here?" Gladio demanded. "We looked everywhere for you!"

Noctis yawned. "I thought you guys would be back at camp. Anyway, it's a long story."

"The only thing that matters now," Ignis chimed in, "is that it's a story with a happy ending." He tried to look stern, but the joy at seeing Noctis again threatened to turn the corners of his mouth up into an irreversible smile. "No time to sleep now, Noct," he added briskly. "It's Christmas morning, which means you'll need to help me prepare our holiday feast." He turned to the other two, and his smile finally broke through like the sun on a cloudy, winter's day. "Gentlemen, it seems we will be making merry after all."

Prompto and Gladio hurried off to start the campfire, and Ignis turned to help Noctis stumble out of the tent. "Your Highness…" Ignis cried, wrapping him up in a hug, "Don't ever do that again! I was so, so worried about you."

Noctis leaned his head tiredly against Ignis' shoulder. "Thanks, Igz, for warning me about the crystal. No doubt about it… Ardyn meant to trap me inside my past, or at least my past regrets… and he would have succeeded, if it hadn't been for you coming after me."

"No more regrets now, Your Highness," Ignis soothed. "I'm sorry that you've been longing so much for home this season but… well, if I may, you're home now. Welcome back."

"Home…" Noctis repeated, softly.

"Noctis!" Ignis cried, horrified at a new, sudden realization. "Why aren't you wearing your new winter coat? Don't tell me you've misplaced that as well!"

Noctis blushed. "Well, sort of, yeah. Guess you could say that."

Ignis sighed. "Well, take these, at least. I know you said you hate the look of hand-knitted gloves, but it's all I have for you at the moment." He pressed the red gloves he had made into Noctis' hands.

"Ignis…" Noctis gasped. "Did you… make these?"

"Rather hastily, I'm afraid. My muscle memory isn't as good as I'd hoped. And again, once we can get some more gil, I'll be sure to buy you a proper pair of winter gloves."

"No," Noctis said, so sharply that Ignis startled. "Sorry, Igz. I meant, these gloves… they're… they're perfect."

Tears sprang into Ignis' eyes. "Your Highness… it was the least I could do."

Noctis cocked his head to one side. "What's that supposed to mean? It was my fault for losing the pair you bought me in the first place."

"No…" Ignis corrected. "It was my fault for not realizing what a generous man you truly are. That boy in the town square… the one who thanked you for fixing the steam vents. I noticed he was wearing your new gloves and hat. You must have given them to him when you found out how cold he was with the heat cut off from his home."

Noctis looked away, his face turning even redder.

"You are a kind soul, Noct," Ignis continued. "You always have been. And I was too blind to see it. Look at the snowmen your built for Prompto. And the Cup Noodles you made for Gladio. Noctis, you… what's this?"

Ignis stared down at a small bag Noctis had suddenly shoved against his chest.

"Souvenir," Noctis said, "from the Citadel of Insomnia." He gave a sheepish grin. "Merry Christmas, Igz."

Ignis took the bag and examined it closely, noting the lovely aroma. "Noct… is this… don't tell me you stole this from the royal kitchens!"

But the prince had already wandered off to join Gladio and Prompto in a snowball fight.

Ignis smiled as he ground his fresh coffee beans, watching his companions laughing and playing in the snow. "Ah, Your Highness," he murmured to himself. "Always eager to bring a smile to everyone's face. This season of giving truly suits you."

"Ho ho ho… Merry Christmas, little prince!"

Noctis spun around and his jaw dropped. There, in the middle of the Citadel's main hall, stood Father Christmas. He couldn't believe his eyes.

Father Christmas strode up to him and bent down to ask, "Have you been a good boy this year?"

"You're not… one of those homeless guys again, are you?" Noctis asked, timidly.

Father Christmas blinked. "Um… what?"

Tears welled up in young Noctis' eyes. "Because I really wanted to be a good boy this year, but I just keep feeling sorry for myself, even though I know I'm really fortunate. And I'm sorry I said my dad shouldn't have invited you here, because it was a nice thing he did for everybody, but I… I'm just a selfish brat."

To Noctis' surprise, Father Christmas knelt down and wrapped his arms around him as he started to cry. "There, there…" he soothed. "You're no brat, Noctis. You're a young man." And he tousled his hair before kissing him tenderly on top of his head.

"Dad?" Noctis said, choking on his own sobs. "Is that you?"

A warm cheek pressed against his wet one. "Busted already, huh?" And King Regis hugged his son all the tighter.

The two of them walked together across town, wishing passerby a Merry Christmas and admiring the snow-laced buildings that sparkled in the sunlight. The snow was deep from the previous night's storm, and the city plows had not yet reached the outlying neighborhoods, so his father helped him forge a path through the worst of the drifts, and steadied him on the slicker patches of ice. Noctis clung to his father's arm with one hand, and carried his carefully wrapped gift in the other, eager to see the surprise on his classmate's face. His father turned to him, partway to their destination. "I'm proud of you, son," he said, and smiled.

When at last they reached his classmate's house, Noctis knocked on the door himself. His father squeezed his shoulder as they waited on the stoop. "I'm sure he'll be honored to wear it," he reassured his nervous son. "In any case, it's a very thoughtful gift. Looks to be made of spiracorn hide, too. Where did you get it?"

The young prince blushed as he replied, "Guess you could call it a Christmas miracle."

✥THE END✥