[ It doesn't matter to him either way; the accolades are tiring, and in Noctis' mind all he did was to honor the sacrifices of all who had fallen for his sake. He loves too much too deeply to abandon the world to darkness, and most especially the ones who had walked beside him, Gladio and Prompto and Ignis, who put their faith in him. He cannot fail them; that's all there is to it.
To see his people happy, to serve them as they pledge their loyalty to him -- that's everything that he needs to do. They've suffered enough in ten years of darkness, of daemons that have overrun everything, where fear had been the order of the day. There is now hope and a future, aid from the coffers that Regis had so shrewdly hidden away from the Empire flowing into the everyday citizenry.
Noctis walks among them, unknown and all the happier for it -- gives him a better, more unpolished look into their lives, ensures that he knows exactly what to fix up when he returns to the Citadel. He does the best he can, he does as Ignis had taught, so long ago. It feels good, spending lunch with him here, the bliss and contentment of the blessedly mundane, and Noctis can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be. They'd fought for a chance for this, a shot at normalcy, and Noctis will never take this for granted again.
So he smiles at the man opposite him like he's the only one that matters (which is true, he is), loving him with every ounce of his being. He orders cheesecake and it's quickly delivered to their table, two forks thoughtfully provided. He carves out some for himself, takes a bite of the deliciously decadent dessert, and decides that Ignis' tastes just slightly better. ]
Mm. Try it. [ Years ago, Noctis would have fed him from his fork. Today, he restrains himself from it. ]
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To see his people happy, to serve them as they pledge their loyalty to him -- that's everything that he needs to do. They've suffered enough in ten years of darkness, of daemons that have overrun everything, where fear had been the order of the day. There is now hope and a future, aid from the coffers that Regis had so shrewdly hidden away from the Empire flowing into the everyday citizenry.
Noctis walks among them, unknown and all the happier for it -- gives him a better, more unpolished look into their lives, ensures that he knows exactly what to fix up when he returns to the Citadel. He does the best he can, he does as Ignis had taught, so long ago. It feels good, spending lunch with him here, the bliss and contentment of the blessedly mundane, and Noctis can't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be. They'd fought for a chance for this, a shot at normalcy, and Noctis will never take this for granted again.
So he smiles at the man opposite him like he's the only one that matters (which is true, he is), loving him with every ounce of his being. He orders cheesecake and it's quickly delivered to their table, two forks thoughtfully provided. He carves out some for himself, takes a bite of the deliciously decadent dessert, and decides that Ignis' tastes just slightly better. ]
Mm. Try it. [ Years ago, Noctis would have fed him from his fork. Today, he restrains himself from it. ]