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Your high school life was nearly over, and almost every aspect of what was left of it did its utmost to remind you daily. Everyone was discussing their futures and their careers, both in and out of the classrooms. You’d cruised on by for your senior year but you’d decided to pull out all stops as the end neared, hoping that the process would be just as smooth as the prior years had been.
So when the rumours started that some royal figure was sending their kid to your school, both student body and faculty were tangibly anxious. High school tended to construct its own celebrities, but anyone with a pre-existing societal reputation that surpassed its own microcosm really did rock the boat.
You weren’t without your own rep, but nothing to speak of in the high school hierarchy, especially as a Senior. They definitely informed a lot of the networking that eventually happened, but they were hardly the main focus since everyone was preparing to transition to the outside world where all that mattered little, or so you hoped.
When the first term of the year opened, you were neither late, nor early and appeared on school grounds just in time to see a fancy car roll up. It was one of the custom-made cars, at least that was what the muttering around you revealed as you watched the doors open.
For a moment, you thought the infamous new student was the bespectacled beanpole that came out of passenger side, however when he promptly circled around and opened the back door, all you could verbalise was a whelmed “huh”.
No one had ever really seen him outside of the tight security detail that followed him wherever he went. It was strange enough that he was even being sent to public institutions, but you chalked it up to royal weirdness.
Noctis Lucis Caelum emerged from the black car, rubbing his eyes as though just waking up.
The prince of Lucis was attending your damn school.
--
Your classes, as well as your lockers, were on the first floor, perks of being a Senior, and so you had started getting busy rearranging your locker for the year. There was apparently some arrangements made that made it so the prince also had his locker on the first floor - some sort of security compromise made with the administration - again, so you heard from the muttering.
A crowd had gathered in the row behind your own locker, no doubt to gawk at the prince. You felt slightly bad about what is likely his norm for the rest of his high school years, but then again you maintained a strict apathy about them for your own personal reasons.
The chatter was going to be a pain to have to tolerate through your mornings though.
“What class are you in, Prince Noctis? I’m in 1-D.”
“I’m the class rep for 1-A! So, if you have problems you can come to me, alright Your Highness?”
A teacher eventually swung by and shooed the groupies away, and you followed suit, wanting nothing more than to go on to class. You snuck a discreet glance at the Prince without the crowd around him.
He looked very tired.
--
“I mean, if all else fails I guess I could enlist with the Crownsguard?”
“That’s a really shitty way to think about them, you know? They aren’t just academic rejects. They actually protect the kingdom.”
“I know, but like what if I’m not academic enough? I really wanted to pursue a Masters in History, but all their entrance requirements are so strict!”
“And you think Crownsguard aren’t just as picky?”
“Why are you so defensive?”
Your seat was a lot closer to the chattier ones in the class than you’d liked, but it didn’t help that one of them was a good friend of yours.
“Julius, just try Insomnia Institute Tech first anyway. They’re not the only ones offering a Masters, but you need to start with a Bachelors.”
Julius let out an aggravated sigh.
“Besides, we need to finish real well first,” Delandau offered.
Your homeroom teacher rushed in, signalling for everyone to return to their seats. It seemed his delay was due to some disorganisation related with the Prince’s arrival.
The morning routine continued and before you knew it, recess rolled around. You settled for eating in class this time, instead of wandering about the grounds. You dreaded the inevitable chatter about the Prince and wanted to distance yourself as much as possible.
“So, what d’you think about the Lucian prince coming to our humble school?” Julius redid his loosened pony tail as he asked.
“Nope.” was your only reply.
“Nope?”
“Nope. Not touching that. It’s weird the king wants him to mingle with the common people. It’s weirder that he isn’t like, outwardly complaining or celebrating it.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty weird. But like, what if he ends up wanting to be your friend? Or like date you?” A dreamy look glazed over Jules’ eyes.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what? Imagining me dating the prince and eventually falling in love and having a gorgeous royal wedding?”
“Yes, exactly that.”
Julius stuck his tongue out at you, punctuating it with a tightening of his ponytail.
“Right, I forgot you don’t like the royals.”
“I’m allowed my opinions.”
“You’ve got really personal reasons behind your opinions though.”
“Any immigrant to Lucis has a lot of personal reasons behind their opinions,” you defended weakly.
Thankfully, Julius did not pursue the topic any further, instead focusing on his lunch. But the thought stuck internally, and you got lost musing about your circumstance.
There was a lot of tension with regards to immigrants to Lucis in the last few decades. It had been years since the Wall retracted to ensconce Insomnia, but the promises of generosity and hospitality had long since started to stale amongst the people. It was especially tangible for you, one of these immigrants. Arguably, refugee might have been a better term.
You lived in one of the outlying regions of Lucis, in southeastern Cavaugh. But the Niflheim military marched ever on, and before long your idyllic days in ignorant bliss shattered into nightmares that to this day you do your utmost best to forget. It was harder to repress that you had lost your parents to the initial attack, and in the exodus west, lost your two younger brothers.
Arriving at the gates of Insomnia, haggard and alone with a slew of others barely alive, you grew hardened and wary, a stark contrast to who you were before.
“You want my last hotdog?” Jules waved a cutely sliced piece of meat in your direction, coaxing you out of your reverie.
Without a word, you took the entire thing in your mouth, before following it with a spoonful of rice from your own lunchbox.
--
The end of the term was never really celebrated for you. Assignments were still handed out to do over the holidays, the workload more so since it was senior year. Semester finals would roll around before you know it, so you did your best to bury your head in studies despite the school break starting soon.
Your head really wasn’t absorbing any information today though, so taking it easy became your new plan.
Julius was absent, claiming to be ill (though in his defense, he rarely skips school and likely is sick), leaving you alone with Delandau. She was neck deep however in preparations for a sports scholarship with some distant college, so you rarely saw her out of class anymore. This left you alone in your free time today, so you’d decided to chance the courtyard.
After some stern talking-to from the respective homeroom teachers, it seemed that the gawking groupies had dispersed since the beginning of term, and now small clumps just kept eyes on the prince. He seemed rather well-versed in dodging them, so you only ever catch a glimpse of him a few times a week, before he disappeared to gods-know-where in the school grounds. You noted that he picked up a friend since he started, though the rumours say he’s a childhood friend of Noctis’.
Unfortunately for you, friendless and reluctant to do what students are supposed to do, the courtyard was far too busy and crowded for a quiet lunch, so you rounded to closer to the faculty tables. It wasn’t really restricted, but it wasn’t really “cool” to hang near the teachers, lest reputation get ahead of you.
The place was quiet and shaded though, so you, Delandau and Julius had pretty much designated it your secret hangout spot. It seemed cool at the time, feeling more childish as the years went by so you ended up just staying inside the classroom for recess and lunch.
Right now you’re hungry and you’re feeling nostalgic, so screw that.
You eventually turned the corner, ready to open up your lunch when you stopped in your tracks. While you were used to sharing this space with two others, two strangers now stood in your space.
“Uhh… hi?” The blond one stared at you, wide-eyed.
His companion, the prince, gave you a cursory glance, before returning to his pseudo-nap ( what is he, 5? , you thought angrily).
At a loss for what to say, and mildly annoyed by the casual dismissal from the prince, you stated firmly, “That’s my spot.”
The blonde kid’s eyes darted around the seats. It was a simple bench and table, the prince lounging on one side and the other sitting across from him. The prince replied without opening his eyes, “Does it have your name on it?”
Feeling mildly victorious, you replied, “Yeah, actually. Corner of the table. My initials.”
The prince smirked, “Did you know it’s against the rules to vandalise school property? It says so in the student handbook, senior .”
You growled angrily, but before you could snap back, the blond kid did his best to defuse the situation, “Look, we can share! If it’s just you, I mean. There’s space here for one more.” He waved enthusiastically at the seat next to him.
“You are far too nice to be his friend,” you stated coldly. Despite this, you went ahead and took your seat. Like you were going to cede to the royal brat. The blond kid answered with an embarrassed smile.
“I’m Prompto, by the way. Prompto Argentum.”
You said your name in return, before immediately filling your mouth with your food. Your stomach gurgled in anticipation.
“And he’s uh, well I guess he doesn’t need an introduction?”
You couldn’t resist.
“Really? Should I know who he is?”
Prompto struck you as very gullible. “Wait, seriously, you don’t know who this guy is?”
Playing it up, you nodded, “Nope. Is he someone’s kid?”
“He’s--.”
“Prompto.” The prince sat up, stretching before levelling an angry stare at you. “Let’s leave.”
“Huh? Wait, why?”
“I’m allergic to assholes.”
Noctis was already off the table and walking away, Prompto rushing to catch up, throwing a confused look back over his shoulder. They’d disappeared around a corner, leaving you to your lunch.
You felt victorious. But you also felt really bad. It really wasn’t like you to be so callous and bitchy like that. Thoughtfully, you munched on your food. Maybe you needed a Snickers.
--
The next day rolled around, this time with a sniffly but otherwise healthy Julius back in his seat behind you. Delandau was fiddling with something in her bag, when you interrupted their banter.
“You guys wanna hang out at our old hang-out place?”
Dela’s eyes shot up at you, sparkling with excitement. “We haven’t been there in so long!”
Julius, immediately forgetting what he was needling Delandau about, nodded enthusiastically. “‘Course! Let’s make it a thing again this year.”
Dela'smile faded shortly, suddenly furrowing her eyebrows at you, “Why did you want to go back there for lunch?”
“Someone’s taken our spot. Just wanted to assert some dominance.”
Disbelief ghosted across her face, while Julius let a scandalised “ooh” be his answer.
“Is it the kids from 2-E? You know they’re just trying to piss
any
senior off to seem cool to the rest of their grade, right?”
“It isn’t the 2-Es. It’s some first years.”
“Even worse!” Julius argued. “First years are just trying to find a place and fit in. Maybe we can go and like, just pass it on to them like an heirloom. Right, Dela?”
You interrupted, “No. I don’t like these ones.”
Dela threw her hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, alright. We’ll go, we’ll act alpha. If that doesn’t work, I’m happy to let them have it.”
--
The lunch bell rang, and you were starting to feel less confident about your plan. It was so incredibly petty and yeah, Dela and Julius had voiced their concerned how very unlike you this was. They even pulled the Snickers joke. But how rare was it for you to be so close to royalty and let them have what for? A territory dispute in the microcosm of senior high school - the metaphor felt so ironic and fitting .
With Julius and Dela in tow, you walked with purpose towards the old benches. With only a miniscule amount of surprise, you found them there again. This time, the prince was awake, munching on some fancy looking pies, while his friend envied him from the side.
Was he really letting his friend starve? Immediately you felt fired up again.
“Get up, nerds. Our spot.”
They both turned to look at you. The prince looked mildly annoyed and snapped back, “You weren’t even using it the last few weeks.”
“We’re using it n--.” A tug at your shirt, Dela’s wide eyes imploring.
“The fuck, that’s the prince ,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not kicking the prince out. He can have it.”
Julius added, unhelpfully, “Yeah, technically he owns it.”
You grumbled at a loss. You didn’t take into account that they actually cared about the prince, for all the gossiping. An argument bubbled under your throat, but Dela and Jules had already slackened their defensive posture. Defeated, you stared at the prince’s raised eyebrows. Prompto, ever the mediator, stepped in with an offer.
“Look, we can all just hang out, right? It’s lunch, we’re all hungry, and you guys got your lunches with you too. So… peace?”
Julius was the first to walk ahead and sit next to Prompto, looking far too happy. Delandau followed suit, turning briefly to you.
“Look, any other first year, I totally would’ve doubled down. But it’s the prince. What if I get exiled for being mean to him? I have a scholarship to worry about.”
You stood there stupidly, briefly internally continuing the metaphor. Fear of the monarchy suppressing the will of the masses, but your normally steel trap of a mind failed you at this moment since, fuck it, you were hungry too. As your friends decided to crowd around Prompto, that left only the space next to Noctis open for you.
Julius and Dela had gone ahead and introduced themselves. Immediately, Jules had enthusiastically asked Prompto about the fancy Lokton camera he had on the table. It almost escaped you that Julius was a hobbyist photographer, and smiled that he found someone he could geek out with. You stared at the spread of pies in front of Noctis. They looked restaurant-level quality, garnish, plating and all. It didn’t escape you that Prompto kept glancing at them.
“Noctis, you aren’t going to let your friend eat?”
He looked up from munching his own pie, then glanced inquisitively at Prompto. Wide-eyed, Prompto shook his head, “Oh, no, no. I’m trying to maintain my very swole body.”
Dela snorted. “I could probably bench press you thrice over.”
Noctis, swallowing the pie, addressed Prompto, “You can have one you know. Iggy just doesn’t like his experiments going to waste, so he packs most of the good ones for me.”
He turned to the rest of you, “In fact just… have them. Honestly.”
Conveniently, there was enough left for each of you to have one, and one more for Noctis. He handed them to each of you, Julius looking absolutely giddy to have a bite. When the prince handed yours, you took it, but he didn’t let go. Looking up, you saw Noctis staring straight at you.
“Truce?”
Internally, the metaphor the pie represented turned into something pleasant, so you answered.
“Truce.”
It turned out to be the most delicious peach-mango pie you’d ever tasted.
--
“Wrong. The answer was c) M.E. 358 - come on . Like there isn’t enough propaganda about Niflheim starting their bullshit.” Dela’s voice cut through to Prompto, who scratched his head in aggravation.
“Sorry! I keep confusing the dates. There’s so many years to keep track of.”
Julius leapt to his defense, “ No one outside of a history nerd will ever need this information, so just keep trying for the test. After that, you’re free to replace it with anything else. Like a new song!”
You threw Jules a pointed look. “ You are a history nerd.”
He beamed.
“ By the way ,” he sing-songed, “Guess who sent in their application!”
“Shit, dude! Good luck!”
“Yeah! Can’t wait til Noct and I start panicking about our futures.” Prompto earned a playful punch to the arm.
The awkward weeks of befriending someone so late in your school life turned into months of many good memories made, now being halfway through the second semester. Noctis didn’t turn out to be as snobby as you’d painted the royalty your entire life, though your private reservations remained private. As far as Noctis knew, you were so casual and blunt with him purely because you appreciated his company over his status - a tale as old as noble time.
You actually genuinely did appreciate Noctis’ company. He turned out to be a lot more down to earth than you imagined. He was still a brat, for all intents and purposes, but Noctis had a heart of gold under the aloof persona he tried hard to maintain. You could relate, since that was practically you.
Despite his initial daydreaming, Julius shifted his interest to Prompto. Apparently they hit it off really well over the camera thing, and now they’re practically camera buddies. Dela was as available as ever, so she was rarely ever by, much to everyone’s chagrin.
“How about you?” Noctis asked. At your quizzical expression, he explained. “What’s your plan?”
“Kingsglaive.”
A chorus of “ what ” echoed in the air, earning an angry tap from a nearby window to the faculty office. The four of you all lowered your voices and leaned in closer, apologetically glancing at the now disappeared silhouette of a faculty member.
“You have … I mean… you never said anything about going Kingsglaive?” Julius expressed concern.
“Well, no. But I never really got into anything else. I got passing P.E. scores.”
“What about your art?”
“There’s no future in art. I mean, I’ll fight everyone about it actually having significance in society, but also no one really cares about that so, if I go to art school I’ll be spending more money than I’ll be making.”
“You could always try going on the Insomnian Scholarship.”
“Yeah I don’t wanna be any more indebted to Noctis’ coffers than I already am.”
The prince snorted in response. “You know it’s called the Crown’s money, right? Its not my Royal Nest Egg.”
“True. Coz if it was we’d all be in a national debt crisis by now.” Your turn to earn a playful punch. It was a lot harder than expected, but you deserved it.
Prompto and Noctis seemed happy to move on from the conversation, but you noted Julius’ furrowed brows in your direction. Apparently he wanted to pursue this topic with you later. That’s usually what those eyebrows meant, anyway.
True enough, later on the way home, Julius caught up with you before you turned to the bus station.
“Hey.”
“Yeah.”
“Kingsglaive, huh?”
“Alright. What about it?” You turned, mock exasperation on your face.
“Look, I know you. You’re never really all that warm about Insomnia or their politics in general. Why are you suddenly trying to fight for it?”
You shrugged. “I guess with all the stress about future, and between you and Dela talking non-stop about it, it got me thinking. Don’t get me wrong, I really did try the art school route first, but the money is really out of the question. Then we accidentally friended Noctis and suddenly maybe the idea wasn’t so bad?”
“You don’t even know what kinda policies Noctis would make if he ever becomes King. Why throw your life away for that?”
“I know! But just... it became an option. And now it is.”
He sighed your name.
“I love you, but I’m calling bullshit.”
Conveniently, your bus appeared over the horizon, the line number flashing. You stepped forward, clasping your best friend’s arm.
“It honestly is. Look, we’ll do a good sit down and talk about this some other time, okay?”
--
Several weeks back, you’d realised you’d developed something for Noctis. You barely knew him, heck you barely know him now . You weren’t really sure what the ‘ something ’ even was. Were you just sad that you became his friend when you were going to leave to change your life? Was it, godsforbid, romantic ?
Your conversations tended toward politics with people a lot, but surprisingly when in the presence of Noctis, you avoided it or dismissed the topic. This all just contributed to his idea of you respecting his space, but it was more for your own sake than anyone else’s. The few times Dela was around, she’d often baited you into talking about it, but you’d luckily caught yourself before you really got started.
But you remember Noctis’s normally dour face looking almost forcibly still every time and only the gods know if you stilled your tongue because you actually respected the person behind the crown now.
You’re pretty dure Dela’s caught on too.
“So … looking to ask anyone for the farewell?”
You pulled a face.
“I’m trying to cram for Economics and History, dude. What makes you think I got time to worry about a date?”
“Mostly ‘coz everyone is. And, dude , I’m pulling so many extra hours on the field that I come home and the moon’s high - and I’m worrying about a date.”
“Okay, then. Wanna go with me?”
Dela shoved you.
“What?
“For one, that is the most boorish way to ask someone out and I pity the person you actually intend to ask. Secondly, I already have someone in mind I wanna ask.”
“Don’t tell me, is it--.” You were immediately shushed with a hand over your mouth.
“Yes. Yes it is.”
Yeah, she always had the hots for the class rep, you figured. Seemed fitting - Dela, the all-star jock and Emilia the scholarly, over-achieving nerd.
“Well, I’m always here if you want to settle.”
Another shove.
“Do I have to drag the topic of conversation out of you so bluntly?”
“Evidently so, since I’m not sure what you’re trying to get at with the farewell talk.”
You were treated to her raised eyebrows. “Noctis Lucis Caelum.”
“Pass.” You said, a little too quickly.
“Hmm… why not?”
“Isn’t that a little cradle-robber-y?”
“You’re two years his senior. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how often you talk to him.”
“How could you? You’re hardly around.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even process.
“Ouch?”
“Sorry. But kinda true?”
“Point taken, but also we’re both friends with Jules, dummy.”
It made sense. You’ve had to mute your phone as soon as night rolled around if you intended to get any studying or any sleep done. Julius seems to never sleep and just, continuously processes gossip or stories.
“He told me about you joining the Kingsglaive after this.”
“...yeah.”
“Wanna tell me more about that?”
“Not… not really.” You fidgeted a little.
Delandau pursed her lips at you. “You have a really good art portfolio and Ms. Guelder has been working with you a lot for your final submission. Why not chance the art scholarship you’ve been talking about?”
You shrugged. “It’s nice to think about. But comes down to it, I’m already indebted to Insomnia for being able to be alive, y’know? I think it’s asking too much to chase a pricey career.”
“Well, if they’re offering--.”
“It’s the illusion of offering. I’m gonna end up penniless and…”
You thought about the area you lived in. It was right between the suburban districts and the “immigrant” districts. You lived in a small shoebox apartment that opened up to either the back wall of a building, or the distant sunken lights of the market row where all the displaced refugees and migrants of all walks tried to make their lives work. Whatever hopes and dreams you had were left in the ruins of Southeastern Cavaugh and all you could think about was surviving the next day.
You were no high achiever in highschool, but you got the marks you needed to be worthy of the scholarship that allowed you that education. Your parents had prepared you as much before everything was taken away. Vaguely, you’re sure they wanted the best life for you but you’re also sure they didn’t expect to be taken out by stray rubble from an hostile Imperial takeover.
When you and your siblings fled the region, all you could think about was how to get back to normal for all three of you, more the little princelings than you. Now that they were gone, you’ve been adrift and just following where the proverbial stream took you.
You come home and you always remember how quickly the scenery shifted from the idyllic high school life, past the suburbian walls and spacious townhouses as the multicolored masonry faded into flattened concrete, ruined and chipped and more tightly packed. It was more alive at night and at the same time so desperate.
A warm hand held yours softly, waking you from your reverie.
“I’ll support you whatever decision you make. Just know that you don’t owe anyone shit.”
There was something caught in your throat as she said that, sincerely gazing at you from across the desk.
“Thanks.”
“Now go ask Noctis out, you chickenshit.”
“Fuck you.” Shoving her back, you both shared a good laugh.
--
Your decision weighed heavily on you, despite the pick-me-up Dela and Jules have continuously been. Even Prompto and Noctis eventually picked up on your sullen moodiness as the second semester came to its close.
In spite of the flurry of cramming, acquiring project materials, the last few weeks became a montage of opening and closing books, of ears enclosed in headphones and low-fi playlists on repeat, staring at your art project in dismay and varying levels of frustration and stress. Between it all you managed to square away your feelings for Noctis for the time being, focused more on why a single, frayed recruitment poster for the Kingsglaive on the pin board of the senior’s corridor felt like a good decision to focus on.
Two weeks to the senior farewell ball, you found yourself staring at the same poster. It was largely untouched, sometimes moved around the pin board to make way for the more ostentatiously designed posters for the Institute Tech, or Ashton Art Academy. Your gaze dwelled for a moment on the inviting email address and the schedules for the art school’s open days.
But eventually your eyes trailed over to the Kingsglaive poster.