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You could have fooled me.

[ She says this as her hand drops from his shoulder to pat his considerably flat stomach. She's only teasing! ] I thought your armory was in here, it's much like a void for all sweets.

[Right now his stomach's well-padded in the most comfortable hoodie that could be dragged out of his closet, but it folds easily under her hand as he sucks in a little to evade those teasing fingers.]

Not all sweets. Only the really fancy and delicious stuff can be devoured to infinity. That's the secret.

[And her cookies are good, absolutely, but they're not tiny-gourmet-Altissian-chocolate good, which is a whole other level that even Ignis barely brushes up against.]

Really fancy sweets...?

[ She asks, innocently probing for more information, looking at him.

She's going to take this as a challenge. It's about time she added on a new hobby besides shitty gardening and tinkering with batteries on the side. ]

You know, like... little finger foods at expensive cafes. Altissia's full of 'em, but I don't remember what they were called. Ignis might.

[He shrugs, making a mental note to perhaps give it some thought when his brain is a little more up to snuff. He's still running on fumes here.]

[ She makes a mental note to consult Ignis. ]

Ah, I should have known that you have expensive taste.

[He shrugs, sort of in a noncommittal manner, munching through the next cookie.]

Perks of growing up a rich kid, I guess. Though I learned to appreciate the thrifty stuff after Prompto and I met.

[ She thinks it's not such a terrible thing, to have luxurious taste. It makes him a good connoisseur. ]

Then, whenever Ignis and I attempt making similar chocolates, you'll just have to be our judge.

[ She lifts her gaze to meet his, her palm gently finding his cheek again. ] That's not a bad deal, is it?

[ He gets to try chocolate while they may get feedback to improve! And as for Pyra, she might have an encyclopedia and cuisine artistry talent uploaded into her, but that doesn't mean she can't improve to cater to Noctis' taste. ]

Chocolate's never a bad deal.

[She gets a tired but content little smile for that; he has a preference for fancy, but he won't turn his nose up at less so long as it's tasty.]

We do an awful lot of stuff that I like, you know. Have you given some thought to more of the w-word for yourself?

[ She wants to not hurt him.

Also, she wants to protect that she's not the one who's bedridden.

She wants him to heal. To not rush himself, of course, but become healthy again. The future is his, here; yet, she feels that any moment can be their last, as if they're running out of time. Precious time he could be doing what he wants, not stuck in bed because of an item she made Architect-knows-how-long-ago...

These thoughts, and that she's surprised he would ask after her even when he's exhausted and hurt, delay her response.

But, at long last, and what seems like a heavy dose of conflict, she answers honestly: ]

...I.... still want to go camping with you.

[ Like what they talked about months prior, sitting about a camp fire together, just them. ]

[His brows lift. He'd halfway-expected some resistance, or that she'd evade an answer entirely, and he's too out of it to pick a fight right now. To get an answer right away like that (she'd even said the word!) has him immediately surprised and genuinely pleased about it.]

Oh man, that's right... I completely forgot. Maybe when it warms up a bit? Camping in the snow sounds kinda advanced for my tastes.

[As much as he loves a good cuddle with his very warm girlfriend, the cold sucks and gets to all the places she can't touch all at once.]

[ She smiles, reflectively, ] Another plan for the future, mm?

[ Her wants will have to wait, which is fine-- because if he hadn't asked about them, she wouldn't have thought about it. For now, she will remain content to be with him here. ] I like that.

Let's see, what else. How about...

[He draws his arm back, holding two cookies from the plate this time. One goes to his mouth, and the other presses up to hers.]

You can put stuff in the armory, too.

[The armory... stomach. Though the literal phrasing is true as well- something that he wonders if she'd realized, since she'd sort of put Mythra in his armory herself. He sure hadn't been in any state to do it.]

[ With the cookie pressed to her lips, she opens her mouth to take one delicate bite. In some sense, she has a literal void (of light) as a stomach. The cookie will be amassed into it.

Does this mean he still trusts her with putting and pulling things from his armory? Better question: the Fetter is stable, but how does he feel with it still being there in his armory, when it nearly killed him? ]

I.... ah, [ At risk of turning this conversation more somber, she continues: ] I think that putting things into your armory will have to exclude both eggplants and unstable energies.

[ ... ]

I'm sorry, Noct, but... I didn't have a chance to ask before. How do you feel-- still carrying it?

[He responds with a vague "hmm" sort of noise, chewing thoughtfully as he finishes his cookie. A fair question, and one he hadn't put much thought into, since he's been sleeping so much. There is some aspect of discomfort involved in carrying it, but it's not as if that's a deterrent for anything else he's got in there. The Royal Arms make him uncomfortable, as does the ring if when he's wearing or carrying it normally- they're going to kill him eventually. At least he's carrying the Omega Fetter for a more selfless purpose than collecting more power he probably doesn't need in this place.

He swallows the last of the cookie and rests a hand on his chest, rubbing at some nonexistent soreness with a pensive look.]

You said... the Fetter was like that because someone messed with it, right?

[ Finishing off her own cookie with a series of petite bite, her eyes track the movement of his hand rubbing at his chest for a few moments. ]

I, ah, yes. [ She nods. ] But if it makes you uncomfortable, let's take it out and... I'll think of something to handle it.

[ Ah, good. She managed to say that without a stutter, even if she doesn't have a plan formed yet of what she would do with it. ]

[Hang on, what.]

Wh- no, that's not- [He blinks at her for a moment, surprised by the sudden shift, then moves his hand to his face to rub at it.] Ugh, come on... I was just asking to make sure. Don't assume the answer's no before I give it...

[He's trying to make an informed decision for once in his Bahamut-damned life. Is she jumping to make life easier for him because of the guilt or because she's too selfless when it comes to him again?]

[ She shakes her head, earnest, but fumbls as she becomes distracted. By the end her voice drifts, her point forgotten. ] Oh, no, I just hope that you, ah-- That you do not feel as if you have to, and...

[ Because now she's really looking at that hand.

There's a scar where he wears the ring. Somnus had that same scar where he once wore the Ring.

Without thinking, Pyra lifts her own hand to delicately brush her fingers against the faint scar now marking the imprint of the Ring. ] Noct...

[He pauses at the touch, slowly lowering his hand to look, though he knows what she's focused on before he sees it. Beyond the original circle he'd noticed since he first started wearing it here, those dark vein-line marks had never remained on his flesh longer than a handful of seconds, 20 at most. This is the first time that they'd lingered longer on him, long enough to be assumed permanent. It's a mark he'd seen before, and he knew it was possible; his father's face had a handful of them in the final years, creeping further and further as the ring sapped away more of his lifespan. Seeing the damage on his own body was a little jarring the first time he noticed, as if it at last hammered home that he too would share that fate, a life gone too soon, consumed by the power of the ring and their crystal. He understands her fear, but it isn't what scares him the most.

He can't reach into the armory right now, with his magic still stabilizing itself, but he can reach into his pocket, so he pulls out the ring and holds it in front of her, resting innocently on his palm.]

Pyra... you know... I carry this with me everywhere. Three people died trying to deliver it to me. [His father, Nyx, Luna. They're here, but back home, their sacrifices are heavy on his heart.] And someday it's gonna kill me too, along with all the Royal Arms I've gathered.

[It's grim, but... it has to be said.]

This ring... even before I knew my future, I thought it would take my life. All the kings know, that's how it works. I grew up knowing this. [Morbid, so morbid. He wishes it wasn't, but that's Lucis, through and through.] But I carry it anyway, because if I have it with me, that means no one else can find it.

[His gaze shifts downwards, recalling Ignis' plea. "Promise me that you won't let it fall into the wrong hands."]

It's better if stuff like this is kept safe, and out of reach, so no one else gets hurt.

[ The ring is innocent in his palm, n object and master alike to those it uses and those who use it. Alone, however, it is just a ring, much like the crystal is just a crystal. That such a small thing could cause so much strife... and all for what, the power that it grants? Or the hope in mortal hearts that obtaining that power will see those hopes through?

He speaks so calmly, and she sees his point. That, like the Ring of the Lucii, he can keep the Fetter out of others' hands. That's noble. That's just like him. ]

But-- you... Do you really need another dangerous object in your arsenal? [ Unlike the dormant purpose of the Royal Arms, the Omega Fetter practically caused his demise, and not for any prophecy. It would have been an inglorious death. ] And. How you feel... About carrying it, even if it's a stable form. The Fetter almost killed you. [ She looks up from the ring, searching his face. ]

This might not be all that comforting, but I've almost died plenty of times. It's not as big a deal as you might think.

[Yeah actually, even as he says it, it's not comforting at all, even to himself. Take two-]

I guess I should say, uh... if it's fixed, then it shouldn't try to kill me in the future, right? So that's a one-up over the rest of them.

[Be...tter...?]

Plus, if it starts acting up again, we'd know right away and we'd have an easier time fixing it like this than if it was hidden away somewhere. If Mythra's the only one who can fix it, then we need to keep it somewhere she has access.

[There we go, logic! Totally reasonable answer.]

[ Take one definitely causes her expression to shift, as if she's damn ready to make that protest-- ]

[ --And by the end of his small speech for take two, she closes her eyes and exhales.

She's not worried that it'll somehow corrupt on its own. ] It won't corrupt on its own. [ It's lasted far longer than he's been alive or she had been "Pyra" on its own, perfectly fine, uncorrupted. She's only worried about how he feels, if this will be one more burden on him to carry. He doesn't need more of that. ]

I don't want you carrying it to be something that worries you. Even-- even the slightest little bit, Noct.

[...Okay. Okay, maybe really think this time, because clearly he's failing to justify this properly. But that also means examining how he does feel, which is harder than he'd like to admit. How to say it without making her more worried than she is already...?]

It... would worry me more to have it out and become a burden on you, than it worries me to have it in the armory. If you think it won't get corrupted on its own, then I trust you. And if we keep it where it is, no one else can corrupt it either.

[He pockets the ring and reaches up to find her hand, fingers curling firmly.]

I want to do this. I want to help you, and I'm not so worried about it that I'd let that stop me. Okay?

[ It seems that this is what she had been waiting for: what he feels clearly spoken to her, him weighing his worry of keeping the Fetter versus having it out, his hand firmly holding hers, and what she believes is his own belief in himself that he can handle this. That, and perhaps the trust that he'll tell her if he one day cannot. She draws her gaze away from the new scar on his finger; unlike his ability to discard the Fetter if necessary, for as long as he remains in this world, he'll carry that mark....

I'm not so worried about it that I'd let that stop me."

He moves forward.

At last she smiles quietly at him, nodding her assent, as s ] ...Okay [ She nods again, more resolved this time. ] Okay.

[ Closing her eyes, her shoulders slope downward as she allows herself to relax in his presence.] ...And thank you, Noct.

Thank you for trusting me.

[Not just with the Fetter, though he wouldn't blame her for taking it back and opting to hide it somewhere more securely instead. But for trusting his word on it, when he'd said from the start it would be okay and then it very obviously wasn't.]

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