When it happens, Noctis doesn’t think about it. He sees the scaffolding collapse under the weight of the blocks and buckets, hears the workers call out a warning, and stops in his tracks. Prompto runs into his back, but both turn to watch the chaos from a safe distance.

That’s when Noctis sees the woman standing under the scaffolding, frozen in fear.

That’s when he sees the baby she’s holding to her chest as she manages to turn her back, trying to shield the child with her own body.

He runs before he’s even had a chance to plan, to think, but he knows he won’t make it across the street in time. Not on his own power. Prompto shouts to him, voice high in warning, in concern, but Noctis lets it slip away. He pulls on the power of the Kings who came before, pulls a sword from the Crystal to throw in one smooth motion, and then shoves his way through space. Asphalt and concrete blur beneath him as he slips out of the warp. With one arm he grabs the sword, tossing it halfway down the block, and with the other he grabs the woman and her baby. She doesn’t have time to react, doesn’t have time to turn, but he can see the baby’s newborn blue eyes.

He slips into the warp again, pulling them with him just as concrete blocks crash to the sidewalk. The sound is muffled in the in-between place warps always take him, but the dust is still rising as he lands by his sword. Gladio would be proud that he manages to stick the landing, but Noctis is just glad he doesn’t drop the poor woman. He sets her on her feet, one arm on her elbow.

“Miss,” he says, somehow calm despite his racing heart as it begins to sink in what he just. pulled. off. “Are you alright?”

She stares at him, eyes wide and skin pale. Her chin trembles, but her grip on her child is strong.

“Yes–yes–I–” Her voice cracks. Noctis hesitates for a moment, but then jolts as she takes one arm and hugs him with all her might, holding her baby between them. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“I…” Slowly, awkwardly, he pats her back with one hand. People are gathering, staring, recording with their cellphones. Prompto is running across the street, bright blue eyes open wide. Noctis sighs quietly. “You’re welcome.”

—-

That night, watching shaky cellphone footage play without sound on the television, Noctis sighs more heavily. While people were surprised, the news call him “The Guardian Angel of Lucis”, powers granted by the kings of old to protect them all. Apparently, morale is going up already. It’s a benefit, he knows, after the latest attack on the wall, but…

All he’d wanted to do was save that woman and her child. He didn’t do it for a title.

“That was a brave thing you did, Noctis,” His father is saying, voice slightly metallic across Noct’s cellphone. “Reckless, but brave.”

“Had to do something,” Noctis says as he sits back on the couch. Ignis has gone home already, after a stern lecture with a warm smile to end it, nearly as proud of his friend as Regis is of his son, and their fond pride makes something warm uncoil in his stomach. “Isn’t it our job to protect the people of Lucis?”

“Yes,” Regis chuckles, “Yes it is.”

(Prompt)