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It Happened (Many Times) Upon A Dream

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It was not uncommon for the Oracle to dream of things beyond mortal ken. Gentiana said it was normal, and her mother had said it was normal. Lunafreya knew it was normal but that hardly meant that it wasn't strange. None of the servant-children dreamed of things like she dreamed of things, dreamed of the Astrals and things greater than herself and shards of crystal.

When she was smaller, before the monarch of Lucis and his son came to Tenebrae, Luna usually dreamed of Shiva. Of herself walking barefoot in the snow next to the her, leaving behind tiny footprints and making winged shapes in the drifts. Sometimes, but very rarely, a man bare-chested with looping horns stood watching them from the distance, shimmy like a haze, but he never came closer and when Luna tried to tell Shiva about him, he was always gone when they looked again, like a mirage, the only sign of his passing a layer of ice where the snow had melted and frozen again.

When Noctis was brought to Tenebrae for healing from her mother, and Luna got to help, she dreamed not of Shiva and the mystery-man, but of Bahamut and his many swords, wrapped in simple clothes that shimmered from purple to silver in the light, of Ramuh and his staff walking next to her, lightning crackling where it touched the ground. She'd asked them to teach her how to help him, and Ramuh showed her how energies seared through the body under Bahamut's watchful gaze, and Bahamut showed her where to cut away dead tissues, nerves, and tendons so that new and fresh might be regrown in place.

After, the Oracle in truth, she dreamed of Titan, holding a weight not his own, a burden to save many. She dreamed of Leviathan, a sleeping rage beneath the surface of the ocean, placid, swelling and ebbing with the tide until the waters were stirred and it broke free.

Sometimes, of course, she did not dream of Astrals. She was a young woman, entering puberty, and so sometimes she dreamed of young men and women she knew. Sometimes they were innocent dreams, like the ones she dreamed of Noctis when Pyrna brought the journal back, of them wandering through Tenebrae, with him walking on his own two feet with her at his side through the fields of sylleblossums.

When she was older, she dreamed of a young man with red hair the shade of violets and eyes of cats-gold, a young man whose kisses burned like fire across her lips and down her skin, who looked at her like she was the most beautiful being in existence-- who looked at her the same way the wounded Pyreburner looked upon Shiva in her dreams.



Lunafreya Nox Fleuret doesn't meet Chancellor Izunia until that fateful day in Altissia on the Tidemother's Altar. He doesn't recognize her as anyone but the Oracle Lunafreya, Princess of Tenebrae and betrothed to the now King Noctis. But she knows him.

Even after he plunges a knife into her belly (a wound that she will suffer and die from, but a quicker death than she already suffered from) Lunafreya still prays for him, and the Astrals have never turned away her prayers.


(But the man she knew in her dreams is too young to be the Chancellor. The chancellor cannot be the man who laid her on a bed of stone and pressed his lips to her skin in worship, cannot be the man who whispered litany of prayers and looked at her as if she had hung the moon.

And yet.

And yet...)