Prompt: #15 Disgust
Summary: You are your own worst critic.
A.N: Part of what I would call, The Undead Verse.
Fastidium is Latin for "disgust, scorn, disdain".
Fastidium
The party was in full swing. Somehow it had been decided amongst the rest of The Undead that they would have a week long celebration to commemorate the fall of their oppressors. She even had her own special day within the festival, which made her feel a little uncomfortable. The last day would be solely dedicated to Noctis himself, for being the beacon of hope and leader of their resistance. That, she thought was appropriate. She knew that they needed this. They all needed to feel the liberties that they had long been denied for something that they had no control over. It never occurred to them to think that the development of their talents terrified them just as much. Their lives had been an overwhelming mixture of controlling what they could do and fighting against those that hated them for simply having the ability. There was not a single one among them that did not deserve to celebrate as hard as they were now. They were currently on Day Four of the festivities and the enthusiasm only seemed to grow as the week progressed. Her special day had been the first day and she was glad to have that over with. It was oddly disconcerting to be paraded around and hovered over by everyone. Her dramatic escape from the clutches of their enemy had been met with an uproar of pride. It did not matter that she had, had nothing at all to do with her own rescue. She is just glad that Noctis was getting his proper due. He deserved all the recognition he could get.
She does not know what to make of how things had shifted since her rescue. When Noctis had appeared in front of her amidst the turmoil that he was responsible for all around them, he had seemed uncharacteristically stoic. True, he was very good at remaining completely composed, even in situations that deservedly called for panic. He had always been a little bit different. There had been a hesitation in him that seemed out of place. Never, had she gotten the impression that he would hurt her. It had not even crossed her mind. She had taken his hand with all the unflinching trust that she always had in him. The journey back had been quiet though. He had not even embraced her and when they had returned to their encampment, they had not been given an opportunity to have a moment alone. His hand, though, had remained possessively laid upon the small of her back, keeping her close to his side as they had been bombarded with relieved friends. It had not left her back until they had said their good nights late into the night. The reluctance that had been evident when his hand slowly moved away from her was her answer that he wanted to talk too. It was one of the many cons to loving a leader, she muses. Noctis was never completely alone and there were always too many priorities on his list.
Despite her prediction that Noctis would come for her no matter what, was still not enough to prepare her for the stories she heard once she had settled. She had awoken the next morning to find that Noctis and his companions had gone to face the High Council of Nihilsomno to demand his throne. Her presence had not been necessary but she still felt a little bit dejected that he had not wanted her there with him. He had been gone for a week and within those seven lengthy days, she had heard bits and pieces of just how unreasonable Noctis had been once he had discovered she had been captured. Had he really ignored the warnings and advices of his friends to run after her? That is exactly how they worded it. He had just run. He had run to her without thinking about any of the consequences. It sent a thrill through her heart as it also drew a frown. The woman in her was elated that he would dive, head long after her when she was in peril. The leader in her was shaking her head that he had not even stopped to think of a plan. The normally level headed prince had lost his balance because of her.
It was also during that week long separation that it had been decided that they would have a grand celebration. There was little chance that Noctis could be denied his birthright now that there was nothing to stand in his way from claiming it. The regime that had been designated to annihilate those of their kind was gone. There was nothing to challenge Noctis now. So the preparations for a week long festival had taken over as they waited for the news. Still, it had not made the time go by any faster. The seconds, the minutes and the hours dragged all the same. She had still been able to feel each as they crawled by her while he was not there. To feel that void where his ever invading presence usually invaded her senses was almost like missing a large piece of herself.
His return had been met with another endless line of welcomes and issues that he had, had to see to. All she had managed was a distant exchange with his eyes and a small nod from each to acknowledge the other at first. His neglect in taking her with him on his journey had shaken her assuredness that she was important to him. She knew that he felt the need for a resolution between them just as much as she did, but that did not mean the result would be what she wanted. Those insecurities vanished a moment later, when the crowds noticed her behind them and parted for her. A direct line opened up between her and Noctis, a decisive move by the people acknowledging their significance to each other. Noctis never took his eyes away from hers as he reached out for her and she quickly made her way towards him and stayed by his side. He managed to squeeze her hand before they were both distracted by everyone else. The contact, after a week without, was more comforting than words. When he leaned in to whisper in her ear a moment later, she felt her entire body sigh in relief.
"Soon," he promised with his lips lightly pressing against her ear.
It was the promise that had kept her hopeful. Now, she was standing in the center of Nihilsomno, amidst a grand party. At the end of their seven day celebration, Noctis would be crowned King and a new era would begin. It was an accomplishment that she had never dared to hope for. For so long, all of them had only been focused on staying alive and helping those of the Undead that had been captured. Their success had not had much of a winning chance but through clever strategy and endurance, they had made it. She knew Noctis too. He had never mentioned it to her, but she knew that he had every intention of sacrificing himself for the greater good. Surviving to the end had not crossed his mind. That greater good, he hinted at in very subtle ways, was to make sure to place her on the throne of Tenebrae when all was won. He had not been fighting for his own freedom. He had been fighting for hers.
The night air is chilly. A crisp breeze blows through the jungle of high rises and the skirts of her white dress flutter against her legs as she walks. It feels like it is leading her to where she already knows she has to be. The sounds of merriment are distant now and the streets on this end are empty. Her heels click against the pavement as she makes her way to the place that seems to beckon her. As if in welcome, a strong breeze blasts open the lobby doors as she makes her way up the steps and it gives her a push towards the elevators. Once the cab opens, she enters, keeping her back to the glass panels. She is not interested in facing the city that slowly lowers in her ascent to the top. The loud ding of her arrival makes her breath hitch as the doors reopen to the observation deck.
The muffled sounds of water draw her eyes towards the enormous aquarium centered in the middle of the room. It was like being given a glimpse of what life was like under the water. The dazzling colors of coral and dancing fishes with the foreboding presence of a shark was a window to another world. As she walks past it, she wonders why it was so easy for this multitude of various creatures to live so harmoniously when she had, had to fight so hard to live amongst her own species. She doubted one reef discriminated against another simply because they were differently hued. Was man really intelligent if he could not get past petty differences?
Taking the steps one at a time with a racing heart, she slowly makes her way to the top. The portrait of Etro stands as it had before but it was not the goddess who held her attention. It is the figure that stood before her. His back is to her as hers was to him that night. He does not turn but she knows that he has been aware of her presence since she first entered the building. She stops when she is just a few feet behind him, looking at the portrait as he is.
"Is it significant that something so grotesque is considered beautiful?" he asks in a breathy whisper.
She turns to look at the back of his head, but he still does not turn to look at her.
"In the eye of the beholder," she reminds him.
"Does that mean that nothing is really ugly?" he asks.
"I suppose it does," she agrees.
"I think this portrait a thing of beauty," he says. "It so faithfully depicts the nature of man. It is how I envision myself."
She takes another look at the portrait. The pale, deceiving stance of restful peace hid just how quickly the goddess could ensnare one towards their death. It would easily be considered dark and wicked. She could certainly see many not thinking it beautiful at all. The light always shone more brightly behind this particular portrait though, as if it were really the goddess herself within their presence. As if this was the doorway Etro opened, as the story told.
"I suppose you are just as pale," she says teasingly.
She hears the quick puff of amusement that escapes him as he finally turns his head to regard her.
"And can you look at me without feeling at least a vague sense of disgust?" he asks.
"Digust has never included itself in my vision of you," she says bluntly.
There is a very small upturn at the corner of his mouth at that and she tilts her head to look at him playfully before walking backwards in hopes that he will follow her.
He does.
He walks behind her as she leans against the railing to look out into the city. The raging party beneath them is only a dance of lights from so high up. His arms are around her a moment later and she feels him bury his face in her hair. She squeezes the hands that are entwined against her middle and listens as he lets out a sigh of relief. The incessant need to have "the talk" with him subsides as she feels him relax behind her. Incessant turns to patient now. It suddenly feels as if they have plenty of time to get to that. When he moves his face to rest his chin against her shoulder, she leans her head back to rest against his shoulder and lets out her own sigh.
"Will you stay with me?" he asks quietly. He almost sounds bashful which, did not seem possible from Noctis.
"As long as you need," she reassures with a pat on his hands.
"I need you as long as I live," he reiterates.
"Then that is how long I shall stay," she promises.
"It would probably seem less ominous if I told you I love you," he says sardonically.
"Is that what you are telling me?" she asks turning her head slightly to smirk at him.
"It is absolutely ridiculous that I am more afraid to tell you that then facing death," he says, shaking his head at himself.
"At least you finally said it," she says. "I have not had the courage either."
"Is that so?" he asks with a teasing note in his voice.
She wrinkles her nose as his breath tickles her and he lets out another puff of amusement.
"It is impossible not to," she accuses.
"What?"
"Loving you," she says and is very aware that he pushed her on purpose.
"Does that mean you do?" he asks a little too innocently to be sincere.
"Relentless," she chides, pulling away to turn fully and face him.
"Determined," he says.
"Disturbingly handsome," she adds.
"Disgustingly evil."
"Deliberately self deprecating," she frowns.
He shrugs, not even bothering to deny it.
"You forget dashing, daring, debonair, devastating," she adds. "And my personal favorite, darkly seductive."
He raises an eyebrow at that.
"I suppose that is only fair."
"Why?" she asks.
"Because you are brilliantly seductive yourself," he answers, leaning in to kiss her nose.
"I wish you would not hate yourself so much," she says seriously, looking at him beseechingly.
"I could have killed you that night," he says, but he stops when she shakes her head to cut him off.
"No, you couldn't," she says firmly.
"I could very well destroy everything if I let it free, Stella," he says.
"Then it is a good thing it was you who was gifted that power," she says. "There is no one else that would be capable of keeping it under control."
His eyes grow distant as he thinks this over. The argument is at the end of his tongue but she distracts him.
"Even if you did destroy everything," she says, stretching onto her tiptoes to kiss his nose. "That would only mean that we would be alone."
He smirks at her gall.
"And be disgustingly evil together," she adds smiling brightly.
This time he grins.