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[This, perhaps, is the real danger of Regis not knowing the future. Not missing a chance to change things, not gaining knowledge he wouldn't have otherwise, but stumbling into emotional minefields he doesn't even know exist. The name Titus Drautos will mean nothing to him for a few years yet, so he has no idea how the man's eventual betrayal will twist a simple explanation into something that has undone Cor so thoroughly.

Even if he doesn't know the 'why' of things, Regis can see and feel the signs that something has gone horribly wrong in Cor's head. The chill that washes over the room is familiar enough that he is gritting his teeth before he even knows it, fighting not to look over his shoulder for the specter that still haunts them both, but cannot actually be there. He doesn't even need to reach for his magic, it rises without being called, countering chill with heat. The warmth rolls off him in waves, but alone it is not enough. Regis knows wherever Cor's mind has taken him will need more than the warmth to lead him back, so he slides off the bed, careful not to let go of Cor's hand until he is standing in front of him. The broken, lost expression that meets his eyes shatters his heart so much that his knees threaten to buckle, leading him to kneeling in front of Cor instead of standing. He reaches out with both hands then, cradling his friend's head in them, gently angling his face so he can meet his eyes.]

Cor, breathe. You're safe here. Come back to me. Come back and grieve. You've done nothing wrong.

[His fingers brush gently at the tears that have fallen to Cor's face. There is so much he's kept to himself. Only a fraction of that is something Regis can guess at, and now Cor is literally crumbling under the pressure. Why? Why won't he just let someone help him?]

Please. Let me carry you for once. Rest calm and heal. I will not let you fall.

[Whether Cor's uniform is fixed or not by now, surely he's not going to wear it to this little ~~family reunion~~ gathering, is he? It's practically a little party! Besides, he's accumulating an awful lot of Dora, with very little he actually spends it on.....

That's all the reason he needs to coax Cor to come out clothes shopping with him, really. .....Well, that and the way Regis had smiled when he'd brought it up. He might have had a little help convincing Cor. Just a tiny bit.

Now that they're in the store, though, the world is their Cloyster! So many choices! He had been about to ask them what formal attire was like in Lucis, but something has clearly already caught his eye; he makes a Beedrill-line for the display.]

And there he goes.

[Regis sounds far too amused at this whole situation and it is just starting. Of course, once he realizes what Will is actually heading for, a bit of that amusement fades into concern.]

Will, not the yellow one. The dark blue one next to it.

[He catches a hold of Cor's sleeve to start moving his friend in Will's direction.]

Has he forgotten the royal color is black? Honestly, do we really look like men who can pull off yellow anything?

[Regis sounds amused, Cor is more... resigned. He's never liked this sort of thing. So much of his youth he'd simply dragged on whatever rags he could find that having a uniform provided for him upon joining the Crownsguard was a relief. After that he'd used it as an excuse to not have to make these sort of decisions himself. With Mors' obsession with reputation it was just easier to stay in uniform.

Eventually... he just didn't see the point.

Now suddenly he was expected to be responsible for his own wardrobe and finances weren't really a concern (nor had they been in Insomnia) but it still goes against his nature to spend money on something so frivolous.]

Yellow? Are you mad?

[Do they look like Amicitias?

He lets Regis tug him along looking more concerned by the moment. It's a vest, of course it's a vest, and Cor immediately frowns a little harder.]

He chooses to forget, I think. And that is far to formal for me.

I daresay it would look good on you, Majesty.

[As Regis begins to move Cor has a moment of an even sharper panic, fully expecting the other man to withdraw and his fingers clench tight around Regis' hand. For a moment, anyway. Then his hand goes limp, releasing his King entirely, allowing him to move away without any resistance. That's surely what he wants.

He's so convinced of that fact that it takes him too long to fully register that Regis has not left, that he's here in front of him, kneeling and touching him, voice soothing but commanding all at once. It's so much more than he'd have thought his King would give him, more than he deserves, more than he can endure.

Regis commands that he breathe and he does, the dam breaking and letting his emotions flood out in a way he has not allowed since he was a much younger man, a boy really. The first sob bursts from him like a punch in the gut and then he's fumbling his way forward, collapsing off the bed into a heap, half in Regis' lap. He wraps his arms around the other man, clutches to his robe and sobs into his shoulder, body-wracking sobs that tear out of his chest and ravage his throat.]

I don't... know what to do without you.

[The words are thick with tears and emotion, ragged and desperate. Here there's no army to run, no Prince to guide, no People to save and without those driving goals there's nothing he can do to fight back the agony of loss and betrayal. And to have Regis judge him so harshly for doing his best to protect him, not from any outside threat but from himself is more than he can bear.]

I'm sorry. I'll make it stop just-

[Another wracking sob, hard enough to make him choke for a moment, unable to bring in enough air.]

Let me stay.

Awwww!

[Will puts on a show of being disappointed, but the laughter that immediately accompanies it betrays just how fully he'd expected the idea to get shot down immediately. Still, he obediently trades the yellow vest out for the dark blue one, trotting back towards them with his prize and looking altogether too pleased with himself.]

Maybe Regis should model it for us, then~? What level of formality are we shooting for?

[Regis takes the vest without argument, though the only answer he gives Will to his second question is a shrug. Every event back home required formal-formal for him, so he is not the best person to ask in this situation. Cor will probably have to talk him out of wearing the crown for it.]

I would be happy to try it on for you, but you best pick out a few more things to go with it. Somehow, I don't think the storekeepers will be very happy if I come back out modeling only it.

[Those soul-wracking sobs shred what is left of Regis' heart. As much as this needed to happen, it is a terrible thing to witness. There is none of the man left that he knows as Cor right now, only a lost, terrified child, desperate to grasp onto whatever small flicker of hope might present itself to him no matter how much it hurts him to do so.

Regis holds Cor as tightly as he dares, one hand eventually moving upward to cradle the back of his head, fingers gently massaging his scalp. How does he begin to assuage these fears when all his limited knowledge has done so far is make things worse? Regis generally doesn't let himself look back once his makes his decisions, dealing with the consequences as they come but not doubting his original choice. He can't. Too many depend on his leadership for him to allow himself to look unsure even if that is exactly what he is.

Much like his country, right now Cor needs a pillar, not a confused man. However, Regis refuses to go to the extremes his father did. Never again will that icy steel immobility wound Cor's battered soul.

Regis bows his head, mouth near Cor's ear, words commanding, but also gentle in a way his father's never would have been.]

You will do no such thing, my love. You have already killed far too much of your heart and soul for the crown. You will love and you will cherish with all of your heart, do you understand me? Share your love with whoever you deem fit as often as you wish. How can I expect you to stop what I, myself, cannot?

[He raises his head again, pressing a gentle kiss to Cor's temple. Mors may have tried to drill into him over and over that his bleeding heart would be his undoing, but the lesson is one Regis never did and never will learn. The flame of love and compassion burns far too deeply within him.]

You will always have a place at my side, so do not fear my loss. I will always be with you, watching over you even when you cannot see me. So long as you walk at my side or my child's, I will be there.

[As one of the Lucii, his presence will be much different, but he will still be there.]

Edited (Small edit since he doesn't know for sure what sex his child will be... YET) 2019-11-25 07:29 (UTC)

I daresay his Highness will be wearing a t-shirt so we needn-

[Except how can he finish that sentence when Regis is making such a suggestion?!

He whirls to stare at Regis in utter dismay, shocked and scandalized and for a moment too startled to even blush. Then his gaze flicks down to the vest, back up to his King's face, and color floods his face so quickly it makes him a little dizzy, immediately turning so he can't look at Regis.]

R-right... jeans, then? Black denim, yes.

[Nope nope nope nope he's going to go find pants you two can stay here and be whorrible together.]

[He's too far gone to be able to formulate any kind of logical response. Duty commands he argue with those reassuring words but how can he deny his King what he asks for. Especially when he continues and Cor knows there's no way he can even begin to explain that being at Noctis' side actually involves a great deal of distance between them. Noctis has a prophecy to fulfill and Cor has Regis' final command to see to, maintaining the People so that there will still be a country for Noctis when he returns.

It's enough to bring a fresh wave of sobs. Every time he thinks he might be able to catch his breath, to pull himself together, control slips through his fingers.

Eventually the tears run dry, though. Not because the pain is lessened but because his body has nothing left to spare, emotional exhaustion eventually being matched by physical as well. Still he clings to his King, breathing in soft little hiccups, his eyes burning, his limbs heavy as lead.]

I love you...

[The words that have been held carefully behind his teeth for decades now, finally free. Weak and hesitant as they are they are no less true.]

[The suggestion may scandalize Cor, but Will bursts out laughing over it. Trust Regis to come up with an idea like that! He can't say he'd mind the show one bit, either; Regis is more than attractive enough to make the mental image appealing, in spite of the sheer absurdity.]

They might not be happy about it, but I certainly wouldn't say no~ ♥

[First he breaks away from the group, and now Cor does, blushing beautifully. Will won't argue with that show either, even if he does feel a little bad for the poor thing.]

Jeans? Really? I don't think I've ever seen either of you in something that casual.....

[When Cor turns to Regis, he will see an expression he's seen many times before. To his credit, Regis is trying to hold back the mischievous grin a little, but the questioning raised eyebrow and the twinkle in his eyes really makes that a moot point. Honestly, it is absolutely no surprise when Cor turns red, stammers out his new focus, and then flees.

Regis watches him go, then returns the vest to the rack. He has no issue trying on a vest,but it will certainly not be that one unless they want poor Cor to have a heart attack. For a moment, he does feel a little bad for his friend, especially in light of knowing his feelings now, but that tease would have happened no matter if he had known or not.

And hadn't one of Cor's biggest fears been that Regis would treat him differently once he knew?]

I'm quite certain there is a law forbidding royalty from wearing denim anything.

[The very thought would have given his father a stroke.]

Cor, you realize I have no idea what size I wear in jeans, correct?

[This...is going to be interesting.]

[As torn apart as Cor is right now, Regis isn't surprised with the lack of answer nor does he push for one. He just tightens his hold on his friend, eventually starting to rock him. At some point, he starts humming softly, a tune which Cor might recognize as a lullaby, one he no doubt walked in on Regis humming to a certain baby on nights when neither could sleep. Always just humming, never singing since Regis insisted him singing would only upset young Noctis more.

Or he will insist, depending on whose point in time one is viewing things from.

Eventually, Cor starts to calm. Regis is certain it is merely exhaustion. After all, these are not the kind of emotions that can be worked through in one conversation. It will take several, especially considering how long these particular emotions have been hidden before now.]

I know, and I you no matter what difficulties fate throws in our way.

[He raises his head, placing a gentle kiss against Cor's damp cheek, fingers soothingly rubbing at the back of his head.]

Trust your love with me and rest now. You have earned it.

[Hopefully, they can speak more on this later. There is a risk Cor will just pack it all away again, but it is a risk Regis is going to take. Cor has given enough for one night.]

I will stand guard over your dreams and keep your nightmares at bay. This I swear.

[The fact that it would have given Mors a stroke is only more reason to do it, clearly. ]

No, his Majesty has never worn jeans... ever. All the more reason to give him the opportunity now.

[Before a heavy leather and steel brace becomes so much a part of his life that such a heavy material would be uncomfortable beneath the weight of it. It's such a focus for a moment that Will might even be able to catch a glimpse of it, especially when there's a pointed look in Will's direction. Don't discourage this, not even in jest. Please, dulcissime.]

Fortunately sizing for menswear is far simpler than for ladies. It is simply your measurements.

[He went shopping for Iris once with Clar and it was a nightmare. They ended up having to call Monica to come rescue them.]

[If he weren't so exhausted he'd argue. Insist that he shouldn't stay here. That this is crossing lines and he doesn't deserve this level of affection from his King. That he's been taking advantage of Regis' ignorance of his feelings to take more from him than he'd realized he was giving.

If he weren't so exhausted he'd pull himself together, drag all his foolish emotions back behind walls and insist that he would not impose upon his friend. Shutter it all away once more, clean his face, and become the Marshal once again.

But he is exhausted, mentally and emotionally spent in a way he has not been in more years than he can count. As much as he fears his feelings will be a burden on his King he also cannot help but feel a little lighter now those words have finally been spoken, his heart unburdened of secrets and shackles.

Regis kisses his cheek and he leans into it helpless to resist the affection, the slide of fingers over the short strands of his hair soothing in a way he'd never felt, the warmth of his King's arms around him quieting the fleeting thought of protest. He's so exhausted, in fact, that it's only with a considerable effort from his King that he even ends up falling into bed, half asleep in his arms before Regis even gets him settled. Fully dressed and too tired to care about getting under the damn blanket.

As long as he has his love to keep him warm that's all he needs.]

That's an oddly specific law..... Good thing kings can change the laws as they see fit, hmmm~? Maybe you'll revolutionize the fashion industry.

[There's a momentary bird-like tilt of his head as Cor speaks, one that might be becoming more familiar to him as he grows more familiar with Will's powers. It takes him a moment to even parse what he's seeing; he's never actually really needed to get a good, detailed look at a leg brace like that. If Regis needs to wear something like that in the future, though.....

The pointed look is answered with a slow, sly smile of his own. Far be it from him to block Cor's efforts to help.]

Is that so? Well, well..... I certainly wouldn't want to deprive him of the opportunity. Or deprive me of the opportunity to see you both in jeans. As long as you size them right, they can be very flattering.

If it's all the same to you, I think I will leave that task to my wife. She looks better than me in everything. It's quite unfair really.

[As if Aulea doesn't already catch the eye of the fashionistas from time to time with her refusal to conform with what they consider 'trends.'

Regis' eyes shift from Cor to Will in that moment of silence. There is obviously something going on there, a communication concerning something to do with his future, he bets, considering the way all detail is left out of what is spoken aloud. Regis has no idea what could be so important and yet be to do with clothes, but he's not going to pry. After all, there's really no reason not to let them have their fun.]

I will have to take your word on that, though I am curious. Cor, my dear future Marshal, do you have my measurements memorized or shall I ask the shopkeeper for a measuring tape?

[Because if you think he has them memorized...well, you would actually be right. That is what having an exceptional memory will do for you, but the last thing Regis is going to do is make it that easy. Especially, since the sizing appears to be a lot more straightforward than he imagined it would be.]

She does.

[Immediate agreement, not even a second of thought required. Aulea is a fashion trend in her own right. At least... she was at Regis' time.

Cor is perusing the racks, looking for a nice deep black boot cut. The mention of how good jeans can look has his cheeks holding their color even as he tries to focus elsewhere. By the time Regis is teasing about his measurements Cor already has a pair in hand, cocking a brow at him in challenge.]

You know your own sizes just fine, Majesty. But as a matter of fact I do know them.

[Regis rarely got to leave the Citadel in the last years before his passing, after all. Anything that he might like from out in the city as a whole was usually snuck into the Armiger for him before Clarus could complain about his style.

He tosses the black jeans over to Regis who will find the tag marked very clearly waist x inseam. It may be off slightly as the lack of physical fighting as well as the... well the number of sweets Cor managed to stash away for him increased. Sorry Regis, you're a little softer around the middle 25 years along.]

The more I hear about her, the more amazing she sounds. I'd love to meet her someday.

[He can't help but grin at the renewed blush, though, or the pair's banter. Of course Cor would know Regis' measurements.....]

There you go! I suppose we've just got to find a shirt or something to pair with it, now.....

[There might be just a bitof an obvious pout to that declaration. What a shame, not getting to see Regis in well-fitted jeans and shirtless.....]

She would absolutely adore meeting you. I, however, might start fearing for my safety were you two left alone together for too long.

[Too much sass, willpower, and determination all in one place. Cor should know exactly what he means.

Regis catches the jeans easily, peeking at the size and then smirking slightly before walking over to the rack Cor is at and trading them out for one with just slightly different measurements. He then leans over whispers perhaps a bit too close to Cor's ear.]

I snuck too many sweets passed Clarus, hmm?

[He then turns back toward Will and grins. How can he leave that pout unanswered?]

Well, I do need another vest as well. Perhaps we can get away with jeans and vest to start with?

[It's a bit less likely to get them kicked out the store at least.]

I'd fear for everyone's safety.

[The two of them together would be unstoppable. The thought is actually rather amusing, at least until Regis is behind him, voice light with amusement and warm against his ear. There's a fleeting moment where he gasps, something sharp and abrupt before he visibly shudders at the rush of sensation, there and gone in the span of a heartbeat.

They're joking, playing around about something he's entirely lost the thread of. A shirt? right... yes...

What he grabs off a nearby rack is nothing remarkable but neither is it offensive, just something that he can reach around Regis and drape it over his front. The hand with the hanger resting against one shoulder, his other hand on his King's hip to steady him. And this time he leans down, doing the exact same thing to Regis that he'd just done.]

No. I snuck too many sweets passed Clarus.

[His fingers press a little harder, holding his hip, pushing his restraint. It would be so easy to step forward, half a step and Regis' back would be pressed to his chest, the warmth of his King seeping into him as it always does when they touch. But he checks himself. Barely. Drawing in a deep breath that smells of Regis' shampoo and that faint hint of smokiness that always clings to him.

Then he finally lifts his gaze to Will, the jumble of emotions clear in his expression and so very easy to read in his mind. Want and love and a flicker of petty satisfaction all at once.]

If it's to be under a vest something simple like this, perhaps?

[Oh, this is just too good. As fun as it is to see Regis leave Cor rattled like that, it's enormously more satisfying to see Cor take the step to try it out himself. A little playfulness from someone as serious as Cor? As far as he's concerned, anyone would be hard-pressed not to melt over it.

Will drinks it all in, enjoying the show for exactly what it is--a good, spicy drama that leaves everyone wanting more. Far be it from him to interrupt the action! He's all to glad to be the supporting actor that helps set the stage and move things along. So Will simply holds up his hand in an okay sign, checking the color against Regis' skin tone to make sure the man won't have any reason to protest.]

Perfect.

[Melt is exactly what Regis does. The reaction is similar to the one he has on those rare occasions when Cor actually uses his nickname, but much, much stronger. It almost feels like Cor's fingers are branding images of themselves into his hip and he can't say he minds one bit. There is something both embarrassed and completely charmed in the silly smile that crosses his face. So Cor helps him out with his sweet addition in the future? Oh, how he adores that mental image. He likes it even better when it shifts, quite unconsciously, to include a radiant dark-haired woman whose smile is both amused and pleased all at once.

Eventually the conversation draws Regis back and he opens eyes he doesn't even realize he had closed. What were they talking about? Oh yes, the shirt.]

The vest you pick out had best be something else then. I am certain people will be disappointed otherwise.

[Does...he still sound a little out of it? Magic ball says 'yes.']

[Standing behind him Cor can hardly see Regis' face but the way he melts makes Cor's heart rate pick up, his breath catches in his throat. He goes still for a moment, struggling to keep his composure, to not give in to selfish desires that might make his King uncomfortable.

But the haziness in his voice, the way he seems to have lost himself in sensation instead of conversation... It's too much for Cor to resist. Shifting that half step forward so his chest brushes against Regis' back with every inhale. The hand on his hip spreads out slightly, sliding around just a little, laying flat over Regis' stomach beneath the shirt.]

Reggie... [A soft exhale near his ear, something strained and fragile in his voice for that moment. If Regis doesn't step away Cor's not entirely sure what he might end up doing. He's not supposed to be doing this, be touching him like this, be letting his own wants get in the way of.... of what? Of whatever they're doing here, though the line feels like it's blurring more by the moment.]

[Will can't help but smile to himself, slow and sly. The way those two melt for each other, the heated murmurs, the tantalizing touches..... well, who knows where it could lead? They might get in trouble if they go too far in public, but.....

Well. Cor has remarkable self-discipline. He's sure they'll stop before anything too untoward happens, no matter how reluctantly. And until then? He's loathe to break the spell of such electrifying intimacy, that haze of heat and longing.

He slips away into the racks instead, to go pick out a different vest for Reggie and let their hands wander as they will.]

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Clothes shopping for the Lucis family dinner!

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