Prompt: #2 Mirror

Summary: What things do you see within your reflection?

A/N: This is set in the Adventum Aduro verse.

Speculum is Latin for "Mirror".

Speculum

For a castle this grand, it was a surprise to note that it did not have many mirrors. There were very few of the reflective frames littered about the halls. Of the times she had ventured towards the wing that housed Noctis' rooms, she had noted that there were not any at all. It seemed almost out of character for the womanizing monarch. So they said about him anyway. Noctis had a reputation for being a little bit of a romantic figure and the way he carried himself, the way he walked, from the clothes he wore, you would think that he was conscious of his appearance at all times. Conscious enough to keep at least one mirror in that wing of the castle, but no. It served to show you just how inaccurate first impressions and reputations can be. From what she knew of the man himself, he did not take too much care in how he looked. He was conscious of being watched and acted accordingly, but he did not take too much care with his outer appearance. The set of his shoulders, the sureness of his walk and the clothes on his back were just naturally his taste. They did not follow the styles of the day nor were they fabricated. It all combined to be him and anyone who looked hard enough at him, would know that he was so much more than the devastatingly handsome man that he was.

One other thing that she has noticed too. While, Noctis may stalk her in his own way, she watched him as carefully as he did her. She just knew how to be more subtle about it. During the time they had spent together, there had been quick flashes of moments where she had caught him. He did not seek his reflection and he did not hide from it either. It was obvious, though, that he did not like the image of himself in the mirror, but he did not cower when he was forced to look. Instead he always seemed to frown. There was always a disapproving look on his face when he would accidentally glimpse himself in a mirror as he happened to walk passed one. She knew, that it was not his outward appearance that he frowned out. He was very aware of how handsome he was. After catching that same reaction more than once, she began to watch those rapid expressions more closely. Before, she had not kept her observations on any specific part of him. Noctis consumed her thoughts with everything that he did. Now, she paid more attention to his eyes. Those eyes that told so little yet spoke so much. She only needed to figure out what they did say.

On many occasions afterwards, she would stare at her own reflection and wonder. Depending on her moods, she loved or hated mirrors in general, but she does not think she ever did a full examination of herself within them before. Not to this extent at least. So, while alone in her room, she had started to sit in front of her vanity and stare at the image looking back at her carefully. With a sort of detachment, she had looked at her own features closely. Seeing nothing too unusual, she had leaned in closer so that all she could see were her own two eyes staring back at her. Maybe it was her personality. Or maybe it was because she never had anything consciously to hide. She could see that her eyes were weary, but she did not see anything else. It was only until this moment, while passing an impressively sized mirror in the hallway, that she caught a glimpse of what Noctis may see in himself that made him sneer at his own reflection.

She had known already that it had nothing to do with his outward appearance that had him looking at himself with such loathing. He should have been more than satisfied at what he saw reflected back at him. Unless, he did not realize just how good an image he made. It seemed unthinkable that he should not know what a fine specimen he was. What did he imagine when he looked into the glass? Did he muse over his own imperfections and sneer because he hated himself? Nobody should ever dislike themselves like that. Least of all Noctis. He and his companions had found a way to save their world. He was doing so much good. He was not the dark evil that he had always believed that he was. This makes her sigh as she continues standing in front of the large glass. Maybe she had something to do with that. She is sure that she does.

The downward turn of their relationship was wearing thin. Something had to give. Not that he was avoiding her. They even spoke. He did not keep his distance like she had been afraid that he would. He was always there when he was supposed to be there and he was pleasant. One would have thought that nothing was amiss. She might have at one time too. Noctis seemed to have cultivated the skill of pretending very well. A skill she probably would not have noticed. It was just the feeling behind it. There was a tension within him that she felt as if it were her own. She had hurt him. Though she was sorry to have hurt him like that, it had been the truth. She did consider herself his weakness as he was her weakness. The thing was that they could use it as a strength too. They were stronger together than they were apart. He knew this. He should know this. Yet, he thought that was the only reason she had chosen him. That it had been her self preserving need to survive at any cost, that had her clinging to him and leaving Divum behind.

Despite what Noctis thought, and she could already guess what that was, she did not leave Divum because her energies would deplete without him. She can understand how he could think so, but she still bristles at his logic. It made her seem selfish and inconstant; fickle. Fickle was a characteristic that she had always despised and his logic painted her as such. Divum had known from the outset that Noctis had her heart. It was just that Divum was included in that heart too. Divum was the comfort she had needed, even though she had not sought it. She had not given him false promises either. There had never been a moment where she had led Divum to believe that she could completely love him. He had understood, but that did not mean that he had not tried. He had tried and not in a forceful way. He was kind. He was trusting. He was there. There when Noctis had not been. He had trusted her while Noctis had not. She knew where she stood with him while she had no idea where she stood with Noctis. He did not leave her confused, while Noctis had never given her a chance to focus.

By all accounts, she should have loved Divum. She should have picked Divum because of all the things that he was and Noctis was not. She should have, but that did not mean she could have. No, there was no way that she would have been able to, even if she had not known what she did now. She definitely could not have lived knowing that Noctis had done all these things for her. Yes, he had stayed away. Yes, he had made her confused. Yes, he had neglected to do a lot of things. The reason she had picked him was because of what he had done. She had known he had wanted her as much as she had wanted him. She had known his tumultuous feelings for her. She had known they were supposed to be together. What she had not known nor could she have even imagined, were the lengths to which he would go for her sake. Not only to win her affections, but to save her life. There was nothing more noble, more pure, more selfless than to put someone else's needs in front of your own. No matter that he had made his mistakes, he had found the final solution. He had done what he had set out to do, no matter at what cost to himself and his wants. What had tipped the scales completely was when she had seen him standing there, standing just below her window. He had given her the power to choose. He had not known she would have chosen him anyway, but he had given her a choice. No matter if her decision would hurt him, he had let it be her decision. He would not make her do anything. That, was why she had chosen him. That was why she wanted to stay with him and had not picked Divum.

"You do not have to improve what needs no improving," says a deep voice nearby.

Its presence does not startle her and she can hear the sound of footfalls before she sees his face reflected just behind her. His spiky, midnight hair sticks out against her blond locks and his face looks as if it were just beside her own. She can feel the warmth of his breathe on her shoulder and feels a sigh of relief. Already, she feels stronger with him so near. His eyes remain on her face and observes her in that intense way that only he has mastered.

"Neither should you," she comments, looking up into his reflected eyes.

There is a small crease in his eyes that tell her that she has struck a nerve. It is the only outward sign he gives her. The expression on his face does not change. It looks as if he has not decided on which words to use to respond so she speaks before he can.

"I know what you will say and I do not believe you," she tells him. "It is all in the perception of the one looking."

"I already know how you perceive me," he says and he does not mask the bitterness and hurt in his face or in his voice.

"No, you don't," she says turning around to look at him and not the reflection.

He does not step away from her and meets her eyes steadily. His face is looking down at her and they are standing so close, she could brush her nose against his chin. The man really did not have a bad angle. How he could not see within himself what she saw, was something unfathomable to her. To tell him how handsome he was, would only have him smirking at her. To tell him how good he was, would only have him denying it. She had to choose her words carefully because there was already so much between them that was misunderstood and taken badly.

"He could never be you," she tells him simply.

He blinks down at her for one blank moment before he frowns.

"Mirrors can be distorted and misleading," she explains. "Sometimes our eyes can be fooled, but there are things that cannot be fooled and it is with those that I see you."

She reaches up and takes hold of his face. It is the boldest move she has ever taken with him. They do not touch very often. He makes a simple thing as touch difficult. She knows he does this because he is afraid of giving in. He is afraid of that loss of control and further her belief in his weakness. She would tell him one day that she reveled in his loss of control. The last time he had lost his control had resulted in the most mind blowing kiss she had ever received. That had been the closest he had ever gotten to her physically. She wants that again and that meant that she needed to get through to him.

"My heart and my mind and my very being see you for what you are, even when you cannot see it yourself. Their vision cannot be fooled nor distorted nor fake. I see you." She turns back around and shows him what they look like together. "When I look at myself, I want to see you. As much as I lamented the loss of a different life, there is no other life I would have chosen because this is how we belong."

"Black and white do not reflect each other," he says gravely, but she can see that he wants to believe her.

"You jumped," she says softly. "Why do you insist on going back?"

"I was not going to," he says and she knows he is not lying. "I was merely allowing you to wander away if you wished."

"I think I have already given you a reasonable reason why there is no other choice," she says. "He could have never been you."

"I would have thought that would be something in his favor," he says sardonically, but his voice sounds lighter.

"I could be very upset with you," she retorts and puts her her hands upon her hips. "To insinuate that I would choose you just because I did not want to die is very insulting."

The show of anger surprises him, but not in an unpleasant way. She needs him to snap out of this low. His moods were just as varied as the moon that he represented. She wonders if this were the new moon phase where all was dark at night. It was certainly fitting. As he tilts his head at her curiously, she thinks she may be right. Trust him not to try and defend himself with sweet words like any normal man would either. There is something in his eyes now that was not there before and it gives her hope. She is almost tempted to huff when she realizes what it is. Yes, trust him to react that way as well. Not the least bit afraid of her anger, instead, he is looking at her now as if he found her almost adorable. The man had a very dark sense of humor.

"Where did the moon go?" she asks instead, while eying him carefully.

For a brief moment, she is afraid that he will revert back to his melancholy mood. Back to that new moon where the moon was virtually invisible with its full blackness.

"That depends," he answers and she can see a hint of something else. It was something not despair and self loathing and she knew she really was getting somewhere. "Will the sun be kind?"

She could almost sigh in relief.

Almost.

"That depends," she retorts, repeating his words. "Will the moon stop hiding?"

"It has not been hiding," he says and he has the nerve to sound a little indignant. This, she likes and she nearly smiles.

"Well, why has it not kept me interested?" she nearly demands.

"And what, oh sun, would keep you interested?" he asks and he says it with that smirk that she has missed seeing on his lips.

"For one thing," she says as if she is really contemplating the answer. "The sun does not like dreary days or nights. It is not within its character to like it. So, you will have to try and be more cheery."

"How does one try to be cheery?" he asks and there is a raised eyebrow now. That smugness that he had, had the night they had met was coming out at last.

"Perhaps wearing something other than black?" she asks and she asks it just to get a reaction out of him.

She is not disappointed when he looks as if he is actually worried about her dislike of his wardrobe color of choice.

"Would you also like me to skip about for your pleasure?" he asks unexpectedly in a very dry voice.

She smiles widely then.

"Depends, could we both skip while holding hands?" she teases and he tilts his head to the side to look at her. Of course he would not fall for that tease. "A compromise?"

"I can do that," he nods.

She smiles brightly at him through her reflection then. He in turn, gives her a smirk through his. Two faces within a single mirror. They did not quite reflect as they should, as the moon reflects the sun, but she felt a hope now that they would get there.