One year had passed in mourning of Aulea. Regis still thought of her first each morning when he woke to an empty bed. The room still felt empty without her, but he carried on. What else could he do?
Outside, everyone pulled him this way and that. His people expected a symbol, not a man—a king capable of upholding the Wall and protecting them from the empire. His councilors expected his judgement and guidance: his end-all be-all word at the end of the day. Cor wanted him to step up and take control of his duty and his life once more. Weskham wanted to see him happy and healthy again. Even Clarus wanted his best friend back.
But what do you want? Spero whispered.
He stood on the balcony outside his rooms, watching the sun rise over Insomnia. His first answer was, of course, that he wanted Aulea back, but that was an impossibility. It had been for Spero, as well, but he had found a way to be together with Elaisse once more. Was that what Regis craved? To be reunited with her in the afterlife?
That answer, also, was immediate.
No. No, he did not want to leave this world behind: not even if it meant an end to all the heartache, not even if he hadn't been assured that the afterlife would be out of his reach. He wanted to stay.
Why? Spero asked. Hang their expectations. What do you want?
He raked his brain for something obtainable, something he desired that was in front of him. His mind lighted, more or less, where it usually did.
Reina. Fifteen months old and she still didn't speak. Crea told him everything would be fine, that some children just took longer at some things, but he could see trouble behind her eyes, now. It was growing late. Everything else Reina had done at the same time as her twin: their teeth had arrived within weeks of each other every time; she had taken her first steps just days before Noctis had taken his; she smiled and he smiled; they had both learned their names while Regis was sick in bed; they pointed and clapped; they could identify objects and people. And yet, three months after Noctis had learned what sounds meant 'cookie', Reina had yet to speak a single word. Her brother, by now, knew several dozen and he applied them liberally throughout the day. He would point at a thing and have the name of it, then repeat the word back until he knew it by heart. Throughout it all, Reina watched—quiet, reserved, but, as far as anyone could tell, happy.
If there is one thing I wish for myself, it is to see them grow up whole and healthy. Regis shut his eyes against the building light and cast his wish into the sky.
Already he had spent too many sleepless nights fretting over it. What if she never learned to speak? What if there was something wrong—something missing? What if she never grew up? He would have loved her, all the same, but no parent wished a half-life upon their children or themselves.
If only she would speak.
Regis sighed, turning his back on the city and returning to his rooms. Though Clarus had yet to arrive and it was still early, he had already dressed and broken fast with Weskham for company. Now, with some few minutes of spare time on his hands, he found himself drawn to the nursery. A little part of him was hoping that if he just found more time to speak to her she would learn. So far it had yielded no results.
In the nursery he found his children already fed and watched over by a pair of nurses as they went about their play. It seemed the hour was too early to catch Crea at work, as well. As much as he should have expected it, he was disappointed. Crea didn't scramble to her feet and curtsy whenever he entered.
Both nurses did so as soon as they spotted him. "Your Majesty!"
"Good morning—please, do not let me disturb you." Regis lifted a hand, indicating they should be at ease.
Noctis, standing in the middle of the room with a rubber frog in his hands, looked up when Regis spoke. "Hi Dada!"
Regis smiled. Noct had only just begun to string words together. From what Crea said, he gathered this was early for such progress. That only made him all the more thankful for it; he would never grow tired of hearing Noctis' new words, or of being greeted in such high spirits each morning.
"Good morning, Noctis." Regis lowered into a half-kneeling position and held out his arms. Noctis handed him the frog. "Too grown-up for hugs, already?"
Whatever response Noct made, it was not made up of any words Regis understood. He toddled off, leaving Regis was a rubber frog and no hug at all. Such was the life of a parent.
"And you, Reina?" Regis asked, shifting so he faced his daughter. She sat a few more feet away, legs askew and hands planted firmly on the mat in front of her, but she looked up at the sound of her name. "Come here, my darling."
Had she been any other child, he might have expected his request to be ignored. But for nearly as long as she had been alive, Reina had never failed to do as she was asked. Whether that was because she consciously made that decision or she just hadn't realized that she had a choice in the matter was anyone's guess. Regis liked to think it was the former, but in light of other events it did trouble him a little bit. A child's refusal to comply with instructions often signified that he was learning independence. So what of Reina?
In spite of his concerns, it was impossible not to smile when she pushed herself to her feet and hurried across to him, arms outstretched. He scooped her off her feet and pressed a scratchy kiss to her cheek.
"You shall never be too grown up for hugs, Little Princess. I refuse to allow it."
Reina giggled.
He sat down cross-legged with his daughter in his lap and reached for a board book from the nearby pile. Reina grabbed it as soon as it was in reach.
"Are you going to read this to me?" He let her lift the book from his hands. "Very well. I will listen. Go ahead."
Reina turned the book over twice before finding where it opened. She let it fall open, holding onto just one corner as he caught the rest of it. Somehow, she didn't seem bothered that it was upside down.
Inside, stiff pages displayed an illustrated scene of a grassy field and a lone chocobo. They had been drawn on with pink crayon.
"What is this?" Regis asked, pointing to the upside down chocobo.
Reina looked at the chocobo, then tilted her head back to look at him. He turned the book right side up.
"Well? Go on. I thought you were going to read it to me. Tell me what is happening."
She stared at him for a moment before looking back down at the book. Noctis, intrigued by their game, wandered back over to take his frog back.
"Coco," said Noctis, pointing to the chocobo.
"Chocobo; very good, Noct!" That wasn't a word Regis had heard from him before. To be fair, without context, he never would have guessed what it was supposed to mean, but that was learning.
Reina turned the page, evidently caring very little about the chocobo. In the next scene, the lone chocobo was joined by a jolly cactuar and the Goddess Shiva. Regis was beginning to think he really ought to have read the book for context—it was taxing his imagination to contrive a situation in which all three of those would occupy one space.
"What is this, Reina?" He pointed to the cactuar. Again she stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him.
"Cac," said Noctis.
"Cactuar—precisely, Noctis. You do have quite the vocabulary, these days."
"Yes, Your Majesty, I'm afraid there's some grave news: your son is actually a parrot." Crea strode into the nursery, dropping a bag in her usual chair by the back wall, and pausing to give Regis a smile of greeting. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"There are worse things he could grow up to be, I am sure," Regis said. At the moment he couldn't think of any, but it didn't lessen his surety.
"Kee!" Said Noctis, pointing to Crea, though he looked at Regis.
Crea shrugged. "Close enough."
Reina, still silent, turned another two pages in the book, changed her mind, and skimmed back to the beginning. Regis thought of something worse than a parrot.
"She still has not spoken a single word," he said.
Crea pursed her lips and shook her head. "I will tell you, as soon as she does."
"If she does," Regis said, and immediately regretted the words.
And if she didn't? What did it mean? Where did it lead? Was it connected to her simple unwavering obedience, or was he growing paranoid? What if she grew up not into a parrot, but a mindless automaton?
"She will," Crea said. "She's a smart little girl. She just needs some extra time."
Regis sighed. In all things related to his children, he trusted Crea; that was why she was in charge of them. He would just have to continue to trust.
"Your Majesty."
He turned to find Clarus standing in the doorway. How long had he been sitting in the nursery, by now?
"Clarus," he greeted, hoisting Reina out of his lap and setting her on her feet so that he could stand. He glanced at the nursery clock and found that he was not, as he feared, late; Clarus was early. The look on his face said it was bad news.
"Word from Accordo." Clarus' voice dropped and Regis had to step closer to hear him. "Our contacts imply, with their latest correspondence, that a continued flow of information is no longer mutually beneficial. There is concern that they will cease to cooperate with us."
"Is there any indication that they are receiving pressure from the empire?" Regis asked, matching Clarus' tone.
"Dada!" A little hand tugged at his pant leg.
Regis didn't turn.
"We have no confirmation one way or the other, but it seems likely," Clarus said.
"Dada…" Noctis said again, though less insistently, as if demurred.
"Not at the moment, Noct," Regis said. "We will need to move quickly. Until we have that information, our operatives in Accordo—"
Crea's hand landed on his arm and Regis stopped mid-sentence. She wasn't looking at him; she was looking at the floor behind him.
"That… wasn't Noctis."
He turned to find Reina standing behind him, right where he had set her. She was holding onto the front of her dress and looking up at him with doleful eyes and a protruding bottom lip. Noctis was on the other side of the room, absorbed in a toy that crinkled when squeezed.
Regis looked from Reina to Crea, then back again. He dropped to his knees in front of her, all concerns about Accordo gone from his mind.
"Reina, my dear… did you call me?" He held out his hands and she stared at him for a moment, characteristically silent.
Then: "Dada!" She lunged for his hands and landed in his arms.
Regis wrapped her up, holding her as tight as he dared. Sunshine filled him up. He wanted to hug her until they were both in the same spot at the same time and never let go again.
Thank the Gods…
He shut his eyes and tears escaped. When was the last time he had been so overjoyed that he had cried?
"I told you." He didn't need to look to hear the smile in Crea's voice. "She was just waiting to learn the word for what was most important."
Perhaps it was just another fancy of Crea's, but he wanted to believe it. If the most important thing in Reina's life was him, then they were starting out this road with one thing in common, at least. He would believe it for as long as he was able.
It was difficult to say how long he knelt there hugging Reina—miraculously, she didn't object to the confinement—before Clarus drew his attention again.
"Sire, Accordo…"
Regis freed one hand to dry his face, then looked up at Clarus. Of course. Accordo. His people needed him; there would be a meeting of the council, some hasty decisions would have to be made regarding those contacts they had in Accordo, and a diplomatic response would have to be drafted. He would have to see if this relationship was salvageable, because allies in Accordo meant eyes in Niflheim.
And all of that meant he had to put his daughter down and turn his back on the first request she had ever made.
Regis looked down at Reina once more. She smiled.
As of yet, she had no idea. At fifteen months she had just told him that he was the most important thing she could think of—the first thing she wanted to talk about in her entire life. She didn't know that time and time again his duty would force him to turn his back on her wants and needs, to put her and her brother second to the kingdom, to miss milestone after milestone as she grew up.
What do you want? Spero whispered.
He brushed his thumb over her sweet little cheek.
"Accordo can wait. My day is occupied."
A/N: That's it for this story, dear readers! I do, as I have said before, intend to continue it; I will post the next piece in a separate fic, though. Also, I haven't written it, yet (except for the first chapter...) so I can't exactly post it, yet. You can expect it sometime in the next few months, though! I just need to finish Remnants and get a proper start on it.
Also, I'm going to change this fic's title. So if "Of Endurance" shows up on your alert list... that's why.
Thanks for reading! I hope to see you all again when the sequel comes out.