Author's Note: I have accepted another challenge for the Fanfic50 over at LJ. Had to contain myself because I almost signed on to do one series for General Versus fics and another for only Noctis/Stella fics, but thought that would be too much. Within a day or two, I will also be posting another story which is completely AU. Let's see how long this takes me.

Sentio Omnium is Latin for "Everyone's Perception/Opinion".

Prompt: #49 Drown

Summary: He should feel like he was suffocating, but he finds this type of drowning is liberating.

A/N: Stand alone.

Somniculouse is Latin for " to drown".

Somniculouse

As a boy, one of his favorite things had been to swim in the lake near the royal summer home. With its tall grasses and lily pads, clean water and wildlife, the lake was a source of endless entertainment. He had known so few joys and those summer days at the lake house had been his fondest. It was when those visits ended, that his soul felt clouded over with resentment and anger. His mother had been alive then and it is only when he is older that he realizes that it was only because of her, that he had ever been allowed to spend his summers here. This place, which housed all the good of his childhood memories. Very few that they were, they were the things that gave him a certain optimism that there were things in life that were simple and a cause for joy. Having to spend the majority of his later years in darkness and gloom in a bustling capital inside cold marble confines, those forays of summer that had once felt so bright had dimmed down into a simmer. The simmer that had almost completely faded as he grew older.

Most prevalent now were the memories of how his mother was torn from him. It had stained the happy memories tainted with the ugliness of death the day he had parted with her. That precious lifeline to all that was bright and cheerful had died with her. He should have died with her. He should have died too. Instead, he had lived and lived to see the black mourning that the kingdom had descended into after she had gone. She had been just like those summer days. The red, orange rays of that hazy summer sun had been like the love and affection she had always given him. Within the castle, that sun was often hidden away and kept away from him, but on those brief warm, sunny days it's comfort was there in abundance. It feels almost treacherous to him now as he recalls how much he had forgotten because of the after. After he had lived for another day while she had not. With her, went the warmth and reassurance and comfort. Too much had happened in the inbetween. Still, he should have never forgotten what she had meant to him.

Now, he can remember. He can remember because he could finally feel the sun again. His hands, habitually cold, could be bare and yet still warm without the presence of his gloves. He can think back to those sensations from so long ago. The sloshing sounds of the water. The whistling sounds of the wind blowing through the tall blades of grass. The hiccups of the frogs. Rowing the small canoe and lying against the smoothened wood to stare up at the clear skies with the music of chirping birds in his ears. Days of fishing and iced tea and lemonade, watermelons and ripe peaches. Where he did not have to wear shoes or confining robes and do nothing but mischief all day long. At night, there were camp fires and melting treats with starry heavens and singing crickets. There were bedtime stories and midnight snacks. Wholesome, pure, innocent things that encompassed all that his mother had made him feel.

For a long time those memories have been buried under the guilt of how careless he had been as a boy. Such profound guilt that the only way he had escaped with his sanity had been to repress it. Repress it until it was nothing, not even a memory. Not long after that tragic day, he had pushed all happy thoughts away and let the bleak politics of life engulf him instead. Guilt and remorse had turned into hardened anger. Warmth had turned into blistering frost. He pushed so far back that he convinced himself that he liked the cold better. The water that had housed such cheerful activities had chilled him, suffocated him and nearly drowned him as it had drowned his mother. He had not emerged from the water the same boy he had been when he had gone in before. It had felt like all that had been brilliant and lovely had died in the lake with his mother.

Until now.

"I killed her here," he confesses, looking out into the lake so many years later. It seemed an ageless thing of tranquil beauty but it housed such ugliness that he feels torn between the two perceptions. "She died right there."

"That was not your fault," she responds heatedly, but he does not turn to see the indignation in her eyes. He loves her all the more for defending him from himself. Even if he does not particularly agree with her.

"It was my fault she had to jump into the water that day," he explains. "She only enjoyed watching me fool around from here. She would never have gone into the water otherwise." No, mother preferred sit amid the grassy fields, surrounded by their picnic.

"I suppose you will tell me you planned to get caught within the roots of the grass and start drowning," she huffs.

He turned to look at her then and is hit by how well the scenery suits her. For a moment, he can forget the bad memories and see only the beauty of before. Golden hair with bright eyes and nothing but shining light. A beacon in the darkness.

"I knew better than to swim there," he tries again.

Her warm hand takes hold of his, while the other pulls on his chin to bring his gaze to hers.

"I am evil, Stella," he says, but deep down, he is begging her to save him.

"Will you kill me here too?" she challenges.

"Of course not!" he nearly shouts out in his urgency to respond.

"There is only one way to prove it," she says. She steps away from him to take off her shirt and linen pants until she is only wearing her swimsuit.

"Stella," he warns as she steps away backwards, keeping her eyes on him.

"I am just going in for a dip," she responds with a nod of finality. "You can stand here pouting or you can join me and we can move on together."

She does not wait for a response before turning and making a dash to the water before diving into the lake with the grace of a swan. Before he can have his moment of panic, her blond head emerges from the water. He watches as she giggles to herself from the simple joy of finding a reprieve from the suppressing heat of the sun. A heat he does not particularly feel under his black jacket. Her graceful form treads water as she stares back at him.

"Will you make me swim alone?" she beckons to him.

"Stella, this is not a good idea," he says, unsure of whether to step forward or back.

"Have you forgotten how to swim?" she taunts, her brilliant smile taking the sting away.

He only realizes he neglects to give a response when she speaks again.

"You have never looked before you leapt before," she reminds him.

She would be right, but he thinks she fails to realize it was an inner urge not to survive the fall that had him doing so and not bravery.

"If you start to drown, I'll save you," she promises. Her face is serious and encouraging and his feet have already begun inching towards her.

"The water looks cold," he hesitates, eyeing the goosebumps on her delicate skin from where he stands.

"Then I shall warm you too," she smiles. She inclines her head in that teasing, flirty look that suits her so well. It amazes him that she can retain that innocent optimism when she had seen so much of the opposite in her life as well.

"Will you?" he asks and they both know that he does not mean just this once.

"Yes," she vows with a nod.

Those violet eyes sparkle at him with so much emotion and life that he realizes just how dead he has really been. He drowns in her eyes as much as he drowns in all of her. It suddenly does not bother him if he did drown this time. The life he has lived was like drowning slowly in a thunderous storm. Now, he drowns in the calming waters of her love. What once was freezing and numbing has turned to the bubbling liveliness of a stream. She did that. As soon as she had stepped into his life, the penetrating rays of those blissful summer days had returned. Only now, summer would be forever with him no matter if he left the lake or stayed. Without another thought, he tugs off his jacket, steps out of his boots and dives into the water to grab onto her.