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Haven

Summary:

A celebratory trip to Galdin Quay goes awry when the elements conspire to drag the Regalia off the road. Injured, tired, and hunted by daemons, the night wraps its tendrils tight and does not let go, even in the broad light of day.

Nefarious plans have been set in motion, and the sights set firmly on Ignis, using his greatest weakness against him. His feelings for Noctis. And now a choice must be made: Live in a Nightmare, or die in a fantasy.

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"I thought I was going to lose you last night. I thought my carelessness had taken the rest of my family from me. I would give anything to return to a time when I didn't know how that feels."

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Under Grey Skies

Chapter Text

One: Under Grey Skies

“Can’t we just stop at Cauthess?” Noctis asked. His forehead tapped against the cool, rain soaked window. “Camping in the rain is torture...”

Fatigue had long since lapsed into exhaustion, leaving nearly the whole royal retinue on the fringes of catatonic. They had been facing long days and restless, uncomfortable nights in a tent for the last few days. Pressed ever onward by urgent requests and the ever looming monolith of their own duties, they'd barely had a chance to breathe.

“Come on, man, you know those caravans smell like gym socks and bad life choices.” Prompto swiveled in the passenger seat, his eyebrows drawn close, scrunching his nose as if the thought itself exuded a foul stench. He had a point, of course. There was really no telling who or what had stayed in those campers before, and even more a mystery is who cleans between patrons. The thought was enough to make skin crawl.

“Well… so does the tent after being stuck in there with you and Gladio.” Noctis muttered, indignant. A large hand struck out at Noctis's shoulder, eliciting a startled yelp. He rubbed his shoulder and shot a scathing glare at the man sitting next to him.

Gladio, a small smile on his lips, reached over again to clap Noctis on the back. “Speak for yourself, Princess. You smell like wet Garula--”

“And who's fault is that?!” Noctis hissed, “Garula-tipping isn't even a thing, Gladio!”

“Worry not,” Ignis interrupted from the driver’s seat, “I have tonight's lodgings under control. Those hunts today were not for nothing.” He took a long sip of Ebony, lips twitching into a self-satisfied smile against the cool aluminum, “I do hope Galdin Quay is acceptable.”

There was a sudden and blessed silence, and Ignis became increasingly aware of slack jaws and unbelieving stares pointed in his direction. The resort came at no small a expense. Ignis was planning this for some time. Admittedly, he felt a little guilty for hanging on to such a large sum of gil instead of buying more resources. Mere potions seemed to have little effect as the days wore on, and the cost of the high-end energy drinks added up far too fast. And quite frankly, Ignis hated the looks he got from the rest stop attendants when he left with a box of 20 energy drinks.

“Wait, seriously?! I could kiss you right now!” Prompto nearly vibrated in the seat next to him as he turn again in his seat. By the look on his face, he really would have would have thrown himself into Ignis's arms had the steering wheel and his mortality not been in the way. Instead, he settled for slapping Ignis's arm in his excitement. The can in the Chamberlain's loose grip jostled violently, sending a precious few drops spilling over on to his glove clad fingers.

“I thought a couple nights at the resort would be a nice reward.” Ignis said by way of explanation.

There was a shuffling from the back seat as Gladio leaned forward against the passenger seat. “Not often that you loosen your death grip on the gil. What's the occasion?”

“If my intel holds true-” Ignis placed his Ebony carefully in the cup holder, giving Prompto a slight side-eye as he licked the droplets of coffee from his glove, “- the Fallgrove holds the last remaining intact tomb in Lucis, and it so happens to be on the way. Hunting them down has been exhausting for all of us, and that part of our journey is coming to a close. Especially after Balovue, I believe we deserve a nice rest.”

A hand laid across his shoulder, drawing his eyes to the rear view mirror. Noctis's gaze met him here. It was as if the storm had dispersed and the clouds of fatigue in his eyes had burned away, leaving nothing but clear blue crystal. It was like staring into the sun. His soft smile and bright eyes made Ignis's heart quaver in his chest. He found himself relieved that his Prince welcomed the gesture despite the festering wound he knew Noctis associated with the resort. After all, the first and last time they'd stayed there was the same day their lives had changed irreparably. Ignis wanted nothing more than to smooth over those wounds and create some semblance of happy memories before they dove once again into the unknown waters of Altissia.
They'd set out from Lestallum that morning, hitting several errands on the way through Alstor Slough. Turns out their hunt for one troublesome Cockatrice turned into a lengthy scrap with three. And then there was the Catobelpas. They'd gone through so many potions and phoenix downs just trying to stay on their feet. But the reward was well worth the trouble, though they were all feeling the repercussions now. Potions could only help so much, after all. They could all use a nice rest-- both as celebration, and for much needed recuperation.

Ignis pulled his eyes back to the dark road and the enthusiastic chatter from his companions became nothing but white noise amidst the groan of the engine and roar of rain against the hood. The Regalia’s speed flagged as it began to ascend the hill to their destination, but Ignis couldn't help but let off the accelerator further. The rain had been fairly heavy for the last hour and there seemed to be no end in sight. The closer they got to the coast, the more it seemed as if the sky was opening up above them. Endless sheets of water blanketed the landscape, casting the landscape into further obscurity. Driving in the dark had always made Ignis wary, and the rain only made it worse. Nothing made his skin itch quite like having his vision obscured-- even to the point of wearing glasses when he may very well function without. He yearned to stop, to wait out the rain or put off their Galdin vacation for one more night and bear with the downpour in their tent.

Leather creaked against leather as Ignis's grip around the wheel tightened. Specialty headlights meant nothing to the darkness ahead and the wipers did a woeful job of keeping the windshield clear of the rain's onslaught. The rain seemed to pick up and thundered against the car with startling ferocity.  Ignis considered silencing the idle chatter in the car around him as if it would aid in his intense concentration. A faint note of warning rose up at the edges of Ignis’s mind. He glared into the darkness beyond the headlights. It felt... unnatural. His body tensed instinctively, muscles coiling tight in anticipation. Through the sheet of rain, his eyes caught a barely perceptible gleam of wet metal and gray flesh in the headlights. That small whisper of caution morphed instantly into a deafening siren of alarm.

Iron Giant

It was too late to stop. Tires screeched against rain-slick asphalt. The smell of burning breaks was immediate and overwhelming, making Ignis's eyes burn. He jerked the wheel, desperate to avoid wrapping the front end of the Regalia around the gigantic iron sword that slammed into the road mere feet away. The front bumper clipped the daemon's weapon and set the car into a spin. Any remnant of control Ignis may have held over the vehicle was ripped from his grasp. A shotgun-like blast ricocheted through the cab as the airbag exploded. It slammed into him with devastating force, making his vision go white and consciousness slip from his grasp. He never felt the Regalia hit the guardrail and flip, nor the unforgiving underbrush ripping away at the roof.

 


 

 

The seconds that passed dragged on for hours. One by one, Ignis's faculties returned to him. He came aware first of the pulsing roar of blood in his ears. The acrid stench of burning fabric and gunpowder wafted around him and stung the back of his throat and made his eyes water as he tried to blink the blood and static from his vision. Dull aches began to crescendo into piercing pains as he began to struggle against the straps pinning him.

Panic rose in Ignis's throat and manifested as an agonized grunt. The vignette around his vision receded and the mass of glass-laden mud came into focus inches from his nose. The seatbelt held him fast against the slick leather seat, keeping his limp form from slumping onto the mud and moss that replaced the Regalia's roof. Nothing but the grace of the Astrals seemed to have kept his head on his shoulders opposed to smeared across the forest floor alongside half the royal vehicle. He cautiously tilted his head, looking up at his body, wedged between the seat and the console that jutted out awkwardly. Several large, dark spots were beginning to form on the fabric of his shirt and pants and he could feel the blood draining from his legs and draining from the cuts on his arms and face. Bright lights flashed behind his eyes as he let his head drop back again and the headache that followed threatened to steal his senses from him again. His fingers dragged against the mud as he willed a hand to his head, pressing against the worst of the pain and smearing the warm liquid across his brow.

He glanced to his right and examined the empty passenger seat for a moment before he could process what was wrong. Prompto was not next to him. He turned his head carefully over his shoulder next, but he saw nothing but ruined leather seats and large stones in place of Gladio. He was alone, trapped in the upturned ruins of the Regalia. Where his friends were, he could only guess. The others had bad habits of trusting Ignis's driving skill and ignoring his insistence at wearing seat belts. Certainly if the others were not at his side-- hopefully more remained of them than the Regalia.

Ignis fell limp against the seat belt, hanging uselessly for a moment while he collected himself. He counted his breaths, clamping down on his panic and shock. His mind was still clouded and slow, but an ounce of his training lingered close enough to the surface for him to grasp.

'Step by step.' He thought as he cast his eyes upward to assess his wounds.

His left shoulder was in an immense amount of pain, and Ignis figured the seat belt, while likely having saved him from a worse fate, had done its damage. It'd leave him with only one good arm to pull himself from the wreckage. He noted also, the warmth that ran from his shin to his hip, staining the bottom of his mud splattered shirt a deep crimson. His nose and cheek ached and burned where his glasses should have been. He was already well aware of the cut staining his hairline with blood.

The stench of gasoline crept up around him, drowning out the stench of the airbags. Ignis reached his good arm out and pulled the key from the ignition. Last thing he needed was to survive the crash only to be taken out by a fire. Next, he had to get free.

One leg, Ignis noticed, was pinned between the dash and the seat. Just letting himself drop would cause much more damage than he was willing to risk, and with as close as he was to the steering wheel and the ground, there wasn't a whole lot of room to be reckless. So, he pushed his free leg against the floor of the car and his good hand against the mud with as much force as he could muster. He reached across his body, pushing in the button on the belt and braced himself.

Nothing happened. He glanced down at the ruined lock and cursed quietly to himself. He'd have to do this the hard way. Magic sparked at his fingertips and crystalline blue shards formed into a dagger in his palm. He slid the blade carefully between his chest and the strap. With a sharp yank, the belt went lax and the blade shattered back into the Armiger.

Ignis's one arm couldn't bear the sudden weight and collapsed under him. He crumpled onto his shoulders awkwardly with his hips still suspended by the one leg still caught between crushed metal and fiberglass. He shifted himself carefully on the glass laden mud and gave his leg one good tug. The metal tore into his pants and opened the wound further, sending a fresh stream of blood down his leg. But he was free.

With all the windows shattered, and glass strewn across the ground, escape proved to be a perilous task. New rips opened up in his jacket as he pulled himself across the ground and through the opening left by the destroyed passenger window. Every inch felt like a mile to his weary limbs. He sucked in breath like a drowning man when he finally pulled himself free. He rolled onto his back, limbs splayed as he stared up into the canopy.

The rain had slowed slightly, shifting from an apocalyptic downpour into something one may even consider calming. The soft patter of water against foliage was completely at odds with the trail of destruction in the wake of the Regalia. The trail of glass, metal, and broken saplings disappeared into the darkness beyond his vision. He could hear the grunts of the Iron Giant from the road, though his blurred vision would never be able to pick out its shape. It'd be only a matter of time before other Daemons came to investigate the commotion. There was no time to waste. Now he had to focus on the others.

The underbrush was little more than a series of dark, formless blobs. All that was left of Ignis's glasses were two angry indents and several scratches where the airbag had shoved the metal and glass into his flesh. He prayed to the six that his friends were near. Finding the broad side of a barn in his condition would be asking a bit much. But he had to press on nevertheless.

Carefully, Ignis managed to get his knees under him. Pressing his hands against the side of the car for support, he hauled himself to his feet. He braced himself for a moment, waiting for his head to stop spinning before he pushed away and limped his way to the rear of the car, cursing every time he put weight on his bleeding leg. He yearned to smash open a potion right there, but without being able to properly assess his injuries, he knew it would be ill advised. Sealing mud and glass into his wounds would do far more harm than good. And anyway, the others may need them more.

“Noctis?” He choked out, his voice only loud enough to overcome the rainfall. He didn't truly expect a reply, but still the anxiety twisted horribly in his gut. Noctis not answering didn’t mean anything, right? His voice was weak and strained and the calls of daemons was hard to ignore.

He came upon Gladio almost immediately. As Ignis suspected, he'd been thrown from the car as it rolled. He'd been deposited a few feet away where he still lay in a crumpled heap of leather. Ignis crouched down next to the Shield, hands hovering inches from the unconscious man, uncertainty making his hands still. It was with a renewed wave of panic that Ignis realized that he had no idea what to do. A million possibilities assaulted him at once. Gladio didn't look too bad aside from a few new nasty cuts and angry red marks that would no doubt turn into very painful bruises... but there was no telling if that was all. He forcefully shoved the more heinous thoughts away and swallowed what panic he could before reaching out for Gladio's hand. He pressed his fingers against the man's wrist, and let out a breath of relief as he felt a slow, steady pulse beat against his gloved fingertips. He placed Gladio's hand down gently on the ground at his side. Seeing the Shield unconscious never got easier. But this time it wasn't a daemon that had done it, but Ignis. He muttered a quiet apology and staggered to his feet again.

Prompto, too, was not far away and in much a similar state. The guilt threatened to strangle the life from Ignis. Gladio was one thing-- sturdy and trained his entire life for dangerous situations, but not Prompto. Ignis gently lifted the boy's hand and checked his pulse, nodding in solemn approval before taking Prompto's face in his hands and inspecting the various cuts and burns that littered his face. The airbag had done a number, and if Prompto's nose wasn't broken, it was certainly going to be very sore for a while. Ignis sighed, whispering another hushed apology before getting back to his feet.

Noctis. The name pulsed through his mind over and over until he was no longer sure if he was merely thinking or if he'd begun to screamed the name aloud. He had to find him, and quick. The daemons had eyes on him. He could feel them circling in the shadows beyond his vision, just waiting for their moment to descend upon their injured prey like the ravenous beasts they were. With Prompto and Gladio out of commission and Noctis lost to the night, Ignis would never stand a chance. Not like this.

He took one faltering step after another, face screwed up in pain as his torn calf protested every inch. His head swam as he took another step toward the Regalia, and he pushed down the urge to vomit with the vertigo that overcame him. His balance wavered and slick ground slid under his feet. He pitched forward, barely managing to catch himself against the wreckage. With a growl of frustration, Ignis lowered himself into the mud once again and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as if he could physically push the headache away. There was no time for his own weakness. He knew he had to carry on through the pain. His friends needed him. Noctis needed him.

An unsteady sigh escaped Ignis's lips. He set his jaw and pulled himself up, using the Regalia to support his unsteady weight. He scanned the forest floor one more time, but he felt effectively blind. The headache pounded behind his eyes so intensely that his gaze began to go to static with each beat of his heart. His options were quickly narrowing to two. He could call out in hopes that Noctis was lucid and could reply, but draw the ever circling daemons to him, or he could wander into the dark daemon infested forest alone with an injured leg and hope that he managed to stumble in the right direction to find his prince before something else.

Fear thrummed though ever fiber of his being. He should have been prepared. He should never have let them set out on the road so ill equipped. He had the gil to restock their phoenix downs, their potions, anything they would have needed. What could go wrong, he had foolishly thought. How could they possibly need any on their very safe and eventless drive to Galdin? He'd been selfish instead. And now he couldn't revive Prompto or Gladio to help him. He recalled only a single phoenix down at his disposal, and as luck would have it, he had slid the large plume into an inner pocket of Noctis's jacket after the catobelpas encounter.

His choices were narrowed once again.

“Noctis!” Ignis called out, as loud and clear as he could manage. He did not have to wait long for a response. Inhuman screeches rang up in every direction. Ignis tore his daggers from the Armiger, clenching his fingers around them until his knuckles ached. He fell instinctively into a defensive stance, favoring his good leg. He'd taken the risk in hopes that Noctis could hear him, and now he had to deal with the consequences. A quiet plea fell from his lips.

A distorted chuckle pulled his attention to the darkness on his left. One by one, small blue lights sparked to life, illuminating the grotesque figure hunched low to the ground, it's human-like hand grasping something on the ground below its arachnid legs. Its pale white face rose and locked its eyes on Ignis and let out a screech of rage. The Prince hung limp in the Arachne's tight grip as she rose.

“Noct!” Ignis lurched forward and let his daggers slide from his hand with as much power as he could muster. One blade went wide, striking the trunk of a nearby tree and shattering into blue sparks as it returned to his hand. The other sank into the humanoid abdomen, drawing another enraged screech from the creature. Electricity sparked around the Arachne's body, turning aside the next two daggers. Before Ignis could will his legs to move, the massive form crashed into him. Hard metal chased the air from his lungs as he was slammed into the side of the Regalia. He gasped desperately as the Arachne descended on him. A leg pressed into his chest, squeezing more air from Ignis's lungs as he drove a dagger again and again into the chitinous appendage.

The creature leaned low, a vile smile on it's too-human lips. Electricity sparked between its delicate fingers as it reached out for his throat. The current wrapped itself violently around his rain-soaked flesh. Every muscle in his body tensed as the electricity poured through them and he found himself seizing before his mind went blank.

The current stopped suddenly. And like an answering crack of thunder, the breast of the beast split open, Ignis's half lidded eyes registered a blade slipping between its ribs, just inches from his face. With a great yell of effort, the blade ripped a path upward, severing arm from neck, and Ignis was released from the Arachne's grasp. The daemon could do no more than gurgle it's protest before its corpse slumped to the ground.

Ignis barely registered a second thud as he sank to the ground again at the car's side as his body struggled to reboot. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, trying to find its rhythm again. And barely above the thumping in his chest he heard his name. He lifted his eyes to the body laying a few feet away, sprawled out in the mud gracelessly. Ignis felt all tension leave his body. He'd have cried in relief if he had the energy to do so.

“Impeccable timing, Noct.” He said around the dryness in his mouth, “Are... you alright?”

Noctis only replied with a breathy laugh and a ragged groan.

Once again, Ignis used every bit of energy he didn't have to drag himself through the mud to his companion. He came to rest at his prince's side, head hanging low over his chest. He couldn't summon the energy to voice his thoughts, his worries, his thanks, or beg for forgiveness, but Noctis heard them all anyway. He always did.

“Noct...” Ignis began after a moment. He knew he had to hurry, but he couldn't help but bask in the warmth of his relief. “... There's a Phoenix Down in your jacket... I need you to use it on yourself and get out of here.” Nothing else mattered. If he had to use whatever strength he had left in him to cover Noctis's retreat, he would gladly give his life to do so. Ignis took comfort in the knowledge that Gladio and Prompto would likely have felt the same.

Noctis squinted up at Ignis, and shoved his hand inside his jacket, pulling the brightly colored plumage from an inner pocket. He pulled his gaze to the talisman, and then back to Ignis. Without a word, the talisman ignited in Noctis's hand. The Phoenix's Favor coursed through him, burning through his his injuries until none remained. And to Ignis's shock, the magic flowed through him as well.

“I switched it out for a Mega that Gladio found after we fought that catobelpas.” He sat up, and Ignis pulled away from his protective stance. “I wasn't about to have a backup plan if it didn't involve you idiots as well.”

“Full of surprises tonight, are we?” Ignis stood and held his hand out, helping the prince to his feet. On the other side of the Regalia, he could hear Prompto and Gladio coming to. It seemed that disaster had been averted for now. But the Daemons knew they were there, and they were closing in.

Chapter 2: Pendulous Fall

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Two: Pendulous Fall

Ten tonnes of iron slammed to the ground at Noctis’s feet. Miasma swirled around the giant corpse and devoured what remained. Noctis huffed and sent his blade back into the Armiger with a flick of his wrist. He doubled over, bracing his shaking hands against his knees as his lungs labored for each breath. It was a test of stamina that each of them began to fail. Each daemon that feel at their feet spawned two more in its place. Noctis had already gone into stasis several times just trying to dodge around giant flaming blades or the tangle of spider legs. Neither Noctis or Prompto had the years of training that Gladio and Ignis had, and even they seemed to be on the brink of collapse. No Crownsguard training would ever prepare them for this onslaught of daemons. That suddenly seemed as somewhat of an oversight on their part. Despite their protests, daemons spawned one after another, hardly leaving a second to rest before they were once again forced to either fight or flee. And increasingly, fighting wasn't much of an option. They'd been running more often than not after the first few battles once the Iron Giants gave way to their red skinned counterparts. It was too much. Ignis had attempted to lead them to the tomb, but every path ahead was guarded. Each diversion drew them further and further from familiar landmarks. The night and pervasive black mist had them turned around in mere minutes. Finding the safety of the Old King's tomb was but a hopeless fantasy.

“What the hell is going on?” Gladio grunted. He plunged his sword into the soggy earth, leaning heavily on the pommel as his fingers quested to the back of his neck to rub circles into his aching neck. The after effects of whiplash and battle exhaustion were beginning to take a toll on his body, “We can’t even get a minute to breathe!”

Prompto responded with a frustrated howl as he flopped onto the ground. He was so far beyond caring about the mud streaked across his clothes and caked into his hair. His usual carefree demeanor was dampened by the night that pressed in around them. Noctis collapsed at his side, swatting away Ignis's insistence that he stay standing.

“The concentration of Daemons here is unusually high...” Ignis said. He stood rigid behind Noctis as he scanned the inky darkness between the trees. They'd taken refuge near a rocky outcrop, finding a seconds respite. He'd had an odd feeling in his gut for the last little while, one that told him there was something abnormal at play. Well, more abnormal than usual. “Not to mention we are bereft of curatives. I doubt we could come away from another fight unscathed. On your feet, Highness.” Ignis held his hand out to Noctis. The prince looked exhausted and had several fresh cuts that oozed blood. Despite the Phoenix Down used earlier, many of the wounds from earlier had not healed over properly, leaving each of them looking rather bedraggled.

 

Darkness spread across the ground and curled around the limbs of the two boys resting amid the undergrowth. Prompto scrambled to his feet with a startled yelp. The miasma at Noctis’s feet shifted and swirled back to life, slowly swallowing the Prince. Ignis grabbed for Noctis, catching a fistful of his jacket and yanking him from the ground as the mist began to coalesce. He held an arm out protectively, putting himself between his prince and the enemy. Two more patches of mist formed on either side of them, cutting them off from Gladio and Prompto. Pale arachnid bodies unfolded from the darkness, electricity crackling around them. Ignis's attention was torn from one side to the other. They were trapped between the rocks and the roiling mist. Running wasn’t an option, even as panic swelled unfettered in him. But defiance had him pinned to the spot with a dagger dancing between his fingers. The alarmed cries of his friends were drowned out by a horrible screech of metal as a giant crimson hand shot up in front of them. Ignis stumbled back, bumping into Noctis. He cast a quick look back, panic easily overtaking his bloodlust.

“Run.” Ignis pleaded, praying that for once in his life the prince would just do as he was told.

“Like hell!” Noctis said with a growl. The Engine Blade formed in his grasp as he fell into a defensive stance behind Ignis. “I am not leaving you guys behind!”

“Your Highness, I insi--”

“Watch out!” Prompto’s words were punctuated by a loud explosion from his pistol. Noctis reacted quickly, phasing to the left and out of the path of the charging Arachne. Ignis, however, was not as lucky. Electricity crackled across the ground, radiating from the Arachne as it slammed its body against the damp earth. The cry that tore from Ignis was horrifying. Noctis spun just in time to see his advisor go down, convulsing with the painful current coursing through his limbs for the second time that night.

A second Arachne pulled itself from the shadows and advanced on Gladio and Prompto. They were pushed back and struggled to find their footing with the dog-sized tarantuas crawling underfoot. Gladio’s massive blade slammed into the chitinous form, taking out several tarantulas with the swing. Four more took their place. Not even Prompto’s gun could keep up with the onslaught of daemon spiders. They were driven back foot by foot until the space between them was too great to come to the aid of their Prince or his adviser.

Ignis’s limbs would not obey. Try as he might to recoup, he could only watch as the daemon advanced on him. His fingers twitched against the hilt of his dagger, tension coiled tight with no promise of release. He managed to kick a leg out at one of the spider’s legs , but that did little to deter it from moving closer and bending low over his prone form. There was little doubt the thing intended to make a meal of him.

Noctis raised his sword, moments away from warp-striking the beast to draw her attention away, but the sword shattered in his grasp, pressed back into the armiger as his attentions shifted. Giant red fingers wrapped around Noctis and lifted him from the ground. The hand tightened, drawing a pained groan from its captive. Noctis thrashed against the huge fist in a futile effort to free himself as the grip grew tighter still. His groans became cries of pain, and Noctis ripped a dagger from the void and thrust it into the meaty red flesh wrapped around his middle. The Red Giant roared and released Noctis with a wide sweep of its arm.

Ignis watched in abject horror as Noctis slammed into the rock face not a yard away and fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. His voice was weak as he rasped out Noctis’s name, hoping beyond hope that Noctis would stand again. He did not. Ignis struggled against the heaviness in his limbs. He could barely do more than watch the Arachne stalk closer, her legs beginning to shift Ignis’s body in anticipation. Her human torso bent low enough that Ignis could smell her rancid breath as it ghosted across his cheek. He turned his head away. He could feel her legs begin to lift him and he knew his time was up. He jerked his arm as hard as he could, willing the paralysis away. The movement was inelegant and uncontrolled. He clenched his hand into a fist and pulled at Noctis’s magic.

The head of his spear materialized in the Arachne’s skull, not giving the creature a moment to react. With a yell of effort, Ignis grasped the spear tight in both of his hands and tore through the creature’s flesh. There was a sickening crack as the spear was pulled out, spilling gore across the ground. The Arachne collapsed, its dead weight pinning Ignis’s weakened legs.

“Ignis!” Gladio’s voice called over the incessant screech of bending metal as the Red Giant lumbered toward its new target. “Iggy, you alright?”

With another grunt of effort, Ignis planted his palms against the dirt and pushed himself back, dragging his legs out from under the daemon. It took a moment before his legs would obey and allow him to stand. Adrenaline seemed to be the only thing keeping him going, but he was thankful he had his spear to keep him upright.

“Alive.” Is all Ignis could muster in response, though it felt a miracle he responded at all. His attention was focused completely on the unmoving form of Noctis a few feet away. He cursed his body for moving so slowly, for his attention that had wavered long enough to allow any of this to happen.

“We’ll draw them off. Get Noct out of here!” The Shield yelled back. He stumbled back as the Giant’s sword swung toward him and took cover behind the trunk of a massive tree. “Do whatever it takes to get to the Haven. We’ll catch up!”

Ignis moved as quick as his legs could carry him to where Noctis lay. He collapsed to the ground at his Prince’s side, pressing his hands gingerly against his chest. He shot a glance to the other two a way up the hill, pulling a full retreat as they lured the two daemons away. Ignis allowed himself a breath to center himself, taking that small pearl of relief and holding tight to it. Those two could handle themselves. They had to.

“Noct?” Ignis’s voice was barely above a whisper. The last thing he wished to do was alert any more daemons or creatures, so he kept his voice low. But as expected, there was no response from the Prince. Ignis pressed his fingers against Noctis’s neck. There was still a pulse. He took another breath. He hefted Noctis into his arms and pulled him back into a split in the rock. He began to count the seconds, mouthing his words against Noctis’s soaked locks.

 

A few minutes went by, and the sounds of Prompto and Gladio had faded into the distance, along with their pursuers. He shifted Noctis’s body in his grasp and looped an arm under his legs as he stood. He let out a breath and poked his head around the side of the rock face. Aside from a few imps lurking in the distance, the coast was clear enough. Ignis exited his cover and began limping back toward the Regalia’s wreckage.

If he’d kept his bearings, their destination was a quarter mile away to the northwest. They’d been chased south, mainly, trying to stick to the road as much as possible. He had no clear idea of how far they’d run in their desperate escape, and no clue exactly how far he’d have to carry Noctis to find the Haven. If he could get far enough away from the daemon threat, maybe the crystal’s magic would kick in and awaken his sleeping prince.

It felt like hours before he spotted the telltale glow between the trees. He stumbled forward, the adrenaline pushing him on. But as he neared, his heart sank. Massive figures moved in front of the glowing sigils, giving an eerie backlight to the lumbering daemons. Ignis’s pace slowed to a stop and his legs gave out under him. The Haven was surrounded. A horrible feeling wormed its way into Ignis’s gut, one that told him that this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe they’d planned this. Maybe this was all planned.


The rain still had not let up. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse once again. The Haven offered divine protection from that which would harm them, but that was the extent of it. Without their camping gear, they would be at the mercy of the elements. Not to mention that even attempting to bypass the Daemons was, in itself, a death wish. No, that was out of the question. Ignis would much rather suffer a sleepless, yet dry night over the alternative. As long as the prince got rest, he would gladly stand watch for the night. It was not as if the Haven was a real choice anyway. He’d waited some time, hoping they would disappear. But luck was surely not on his side.

So he walked. Ignis gripped Noctis harder, pulling the limp body tight against his chest as he picked up the pace. Progress was agonizingly slow, though he knew not where he went. Between dodging packs of wandering daemons and having to search for solid ground amid flowing mud, Ignis’s stamina was flagging. More than once, after a mad dash to escape prying eyes, he found himself on his knees in the mud with bloodied elbows, pulling Noctis’s back into his arms. He hardly had the strength to stand and his leg ached with the remnants of its injury.

“Noctis… What do I do?” Ignis asked, lowering his head to his chest as he watched the water roll from his limp hair and drip onto Noctis’s too-pale cheek. He thumbed the droplet away, letting his fingers linger longer than appropriate. Noctis would have swatted his hand away, admonishing him for invading his sacred personal space. One of the few things they truly had in common, it seemed. Still, he could not help but drag his gloved fingertips down the line of his jaw, marveling at how flawless the skin beneath his hand was, before resting his fingers against Noctis’s neck. Even through the thin leather, he could feel the steady heartbeat thrum under his hand. It was strong, and getting stronger each time he checked. It cut through his anxiety beat by beat. Tonight hadn’t been the first time Noctis had fallen in battle, but he always recovered quickly, needing only a few moments before the magic of his bloodline worked its miracles. But it had been— how long? Hours, maybe? It was difficult to tell.

Certainly he would awaken soon. Ignis’s nightmare would cease the second Noctis opened his eyes. It was a ray of hope that sparked the fire once again in Ignis’s blood. He pulled Noctis into his arms again and hauled himself to his feet. He would find shelter, if for no other reason than to keep Noctis from cursing his family line should he be roused in such a state.

A tower rose from the forest floor, a stone skeleton of an ancient colossus. All about the courtyard lay its ruined facade, being slowly reclaimed by the same earth that made it. Even so, it was a sight to behold. The center tower stretched beyond the canopy, lines of glowing red ascending into the lightning streaked sky. The structure was old, and its function far beyond the memory of any who now laid eyes on it, a relic of a civilization that had long since passed into myth.

It made Ignis uneasy. Solheim’s technology had created horrors that still brought chaos to this day, utilized by tyrants that would tear the star apart just to watch it burn, just as they had before hubris had razed Solheim to the ground. It was almost a pity, Ignis thought, that so much history and technology had been lost, preserved only in daemon infested forests and the weapons of the enemy.

Ignis walked beyond decrepit walls into the courtyard proper and past crumbling pillars until he stood at the foot of the stairs. He hefted Noctis up higher in his tired arms as he ascended the staircase. The foyer beyond was in as much disrepair as the rest of the courtyard. The ceilings nothing but debris on the floor, leaving only walls and arches scattered around the circular room. Almost all vertical surfaces were glowing with the ancient red runes like circuitry, casting an eerie light into the surroundings. Warily, Ignis pressed forward into the center structure, eyes cast ever skyward.  

His footsteps echoed in the confines of the center tower, rebounding off glowing walls. Chilled air swirled from below, and as Ignis peered over the stone balustrade, he realized that the tower was much deeper than it was tall. The red lines sank into the darkness below and were snuffed. But nothing rose from that pit except stale air. The silence was no comfort-- He found it oppressive and set his nerves ablaze. He thought of the daemons lurking in the dark places of Eos, of the Aramusha that had nearly ended Noctis’s life in the depths of Balouve Mines. He hoped to find shelter here, but the feeling in his gut had him taking a step back. Maybe he could still find something else.

“Ignis?” Noctis’s voice was raspy, as if he’d just woken from a long nap. Ignis’s attention snapped to the figure in his arms. He shoved his trepidation down and set a gentle smile on his lips as Noctis finally opened his eyes. His relief was almost palpable. Noctis was awake, alive, and aware at last. The ever-present lump in his throat disappeared and the adrenaline ebbed away as if his entire being waited for Noctis’s voice to grant him rest. Immediately, he felt drained and each ache of his muscles made themselves extremely evident. But he would bear with it, feeling a familiar spark of warmth transfer from the slowly shifting body in his arms to his own limbs. Noctis’s magic greeted him like a balm. It was like a gentle pressure easing off his chest; something indescribable but distinct, like the first whisper of spring after a long winter.

“Highness.” Ignis said, shifting his prince to allow him to find his legs. Noctis obliged and planted both feet on the ground, but he kept an arm wrapped around Ignis’s neck, unsure if his legs could bear his weight. Ignis held him gently, careful to not put too much pressure on bruised flesh as he wrapped an arm around Noctis’s waist, “How are you feeling?”

The question didn’t have to be asked when the answer was written clearly on the Prince’s face. Noctis’s gaze was still hazy and sluggish as he looked around himself. Disorientation was to be expected. Noctis gripped Ignis a little tighter, wincing as he was ushered forward. His limbs were slow to keep up with the forward momentum and he leaned on Ignis more and more with each passing second.

If he could, Ignis would have swept him back up into his arms, but as it was, he was hardly keeping himself up. They were both at the end of their rope. Noctis would not be able to continue, and Ignis could not carry him any further. They both needed the time to rest and let Noctis’s magic heal their wounds. This would simply have to be the end of the night’s journey, whether they liked it or not.

“Where are we?” Noctis asked, likely not even registering his chamberlain’s inquiry.

“I am… unsure.” Ignis said quietly, “A watchtower or military base from Solheim, perhaps?” He helped Noctis over a large patch of rubble as he continued to push into the structure. It didn’t take long for Ignis to realize that no corner of the structure had dry floors, nowhere except a set of steps leading downward into the darkness of the tower. It was certainly a poor notion, but the only overhang in sight lay at the base of those stairs. He’d have to push aside his misgivings. They needed this. The creatures that inhabited the darker corners of Eos didn’t tend to linger near the entrances… it should be relatively safe.

Noctis grunted as he was helped to the floor on a small landing two flights down. Another flight descended off to the right into the tower proper. Slits in the stone glowed faintly, casting the stairs and the room beyond in a dim light, but Ignis dare not go further. He’d keep his eyes on that darkness as best he could.

Noctis flopped back against the wall and carded a hand through his wet hair. He looked up at Ignis and patted the floor at his side. With only a second’s hesitation, Ignis settled in beside him. There was a stretched out silence between them, comfortable, but filled with a thousand words left unsaid. With the immediate danger behind them, all Ignis could concentrate on was the feeling of guilt rising in his chest. No matter how hard he tried to quell it, it rose again, screaming at him. This is all your fault. You nearly killed them all.

“I’m freezing.” Noctis mumbled as he drew his knees up and wrapped his arms about them.

“I apologize, this was the best I could find.”  Ignis smoothed a hand down his rain-soaked jacket and flicked the water from his fingers. They were both drenched. From his side, he could see the subtle shake of Noctis’s dark hair that sent droplets running down his jaw.

“Don’t apologize. I’d be dead if not for you.”

“Come now, the other two would have done the same had they been in my position.”

“Well, they weren’t, so you’re just going to have to accept my thanks.” Noctis said with a tone of finality. He caught Ignis’s gaze and offered a small smile. Just a slight quirk at the edge of his lip, but it tugged at something in Ignis’s chest. Ignis allowed himself a huff of amusement before he leaned away and pulled the drenched suit jacket from his shoulders.   

For the most part, his shirt had been spared by the tight weave of his jacket, leaving the courel print only slightly damp. Noctis, on the other hand, didn’t quite have the same luxury.   He struggled out of his short sleeve jacket, tossing it carelessly aside in a sopping heap. The charcoal shirt followed after. He reached behind his head, taking a fist full of his collar in each hand and pulled it over his head. Ignis averted his gaze as he saw the fabric pull back and expose the expanse of the prince’s back.

Much like himself, Noctis wasn’t one to expose skin. It may have been from their upbringing so close to the public eye, always expected to show modesty and an air of regality. But Ignis knew that it was that long streak of discolored flesh that had Noctis on edge. Noctis had never quite been the same since the incident that gifted him with that scar. For weeks he had people poking and prodding at it at all hours of the day, commenting on how frail he looked and how he may never be able to walk again. Even after he proved them wrong, there were always those that wanted to see, that felt they were entitled to his trauma. It’d forever be a reminder of his worst days, so now Noctis carefully hid it away and tried to forget. Even in front of his retinue, he was hesitant to leave himself bare.

That he would expose himself now without an ounce of self-consciousness in front of Ignis lit a small spark of pride. After all, they had not always gotten along. During their more tense moments, he wasn't even sure Noctis would call him a friend if it came down to it. Duty had a way of wrecking friendships. There was so much history between them, but this single small gesture was enough to prove to Ignis that at least Noctis was still more comfortable around him than anybody else. There was a lifetime of history between them, and that came with a trust that time and distance would never wear down.

Ignis found himself far too pleased with the sentiment. He did his best not to steal another glance, so he busied himself lest Noctis notice the blush creeping up from under his collar. He pulled a fire flask from the armiger and placed it at their feet. He opened it and let the magic drain slowly, hot but relatively harmless. It would only work for a short time, but it was far better than nothing.

Noctis laid his shoes and socks alongside his shirt next to their makeshift campfire. Steam rose from the wet mass of clothing, swirling among the slowly gathering mist. The firelight danced across the stone walls, casting shadows on the ceiling. The crackle of the magical fire came as a small relief amid the silence of the tower. And in the orange light, Noctis looked resplendent. Water rolled down his damp skin and was whisked away by quick fingers.

Ignis found himself staring again and didn’t want to pull his eyes away. He let his sight rest a moment longer before he forced his gaze forward, tugged off his too-fancy shoes, and laid them beside Noctis’s. He folded his fingers into his lap as he leaned back against the wall, keeping his gaze ever on the descending staircase. But his attention was fully on the blurred figure at his side. His heartbeat thundered in his chest when Noctis leaned into his side with a world weary sigh. He yearned to drape an arm across those pale shoulders and draw the younger man in closer, but as always, he pushed his thoughts to the side for the sake of propriety and clenched his hands tighter in his lap.

Ignis had always been good at organizing his thoughts and feelings, or at least that’s how it seemed to those around him. Truth be told, he felt like an absolute mess, barely keeping it together. Years of practice had effectively divorced his professional life from interfering with his personal life— except for Noctis. Noctis was the string that kept them tied together, confusing where his duty ended and his pleasure began. And to Ignis, Noctis was a pleasure. Sure, he was a little spoiled and sometimes a handful, but that never quite took away from his unyielding admiration for the young prince. He saw something that so many others did not, something that warranted his unconditional devotion. Noctis would never be just a job.

The roadtrip had been mentally taxing. Such extended close proximity to the object of his affections was becoming harder to bear. He had no right to feel as he did about his Prince. It was entirely improper. He had to force himself to not react. Especially now, with his guilt and relief mixing together in a dangerous cocktail and Noctis leaning on his shoulder, shaking from cold. He was sure Noctis could hear his his heart pick up its pace in his chest.

“Specs...” Noctis began, causing Ignis to stiffen at his side,. “Where’s Gladio and Prompto?”

“They separated from us to draw off the daemons. They’re probably out hunting for shelter now as well. We will reconvene with them in the morning.” Ignis spared a look down at the prince, praying that he didn’t hear the way his heart fluttered as their eyes met. Astrals save him, he was in trouble.

“Oh.” Noctis settled again against Ignis’s shoulder and wrapping his arms just a little tighter. Ignis sighed and carefully draped his arm around Noctis’s form, giving in to his selfish instinct.

“Don’t worry about them, Highness. They’ll be fine. We will catch up with them in the morning. Just… rest.”

There was a long moment of silence between them, and it wasn’t until Noctis spoke again that Ignis realized he was still awake.

“Thanks, Specs.”

Ignis tightened his hold on Noctis and said nothing.

 



The magic flask lay drained, its magic long since spent. The darkness and chill it kept at bay closed in. Thin wisps of fog licked at the sleeping men's feet as it wafted up from the dark below. Ignis had intended to stay awake, but the will of the darkness was strong. That decision was never really his to make.

A tune arose from the deep, whistled out between pursed lips. Fingers danced across cold stone, tapping out a rhythm long since forgotten. The air shifted and swirled, scattering the remnants of mist the clung to the two sleeping forms. As the tune grew louder, so too did the sound of heavy footsteps. Then, all at once, the cheery tune stopped.

Ardyn stepped onto the landing, his coat dragging a blanket of miasma behind him. He rolled the flask under his heel as he contemplated the two men before him, huddled like mongrels away from the storm. He crouched, hand outstretched to ruffle the sleeping prince's already disheveled hair. Noctis's head lolled to the side, cheek resting uncomfortably on his bony shoulder. He did not stir, nor would he.

“Ah, youth...” Ardyn chimed, “To be able to sleep so soundly with daemons at your doorstep.” He patted Ignis's head as he stood and turned to the ascending stairs, twirling a timeworn bronze key between his fingers before dropping it into a pocket.

“May you have the sweetest of dreams, Your Highness.” The tune was at his lips again, its trilling notes withering between the close set stone walls and trailing into the distance.

Notes:

Hey guys! Thanks for reading!
I figure I will do some housekeeping here and let you know about some head-canons I will be working off of for this story.
- Lucis is much bigger than what is presented to us in game. I've decided to measure the distance between locations by how much in-game time it takes to get there rather than the miles/kilometers it gives us.
- Every outpost is attached to a small town, like you'd find in the real world. These people gotta live somewhere!
- The armiger can only hold weapons.

I... think that's all? I can't remember if it is or not. Sooo... I'll just sort of make sure to write good and explain things in the narrative if I need to.

Chapter 3: Regalis Apertura

Summary:

The night has ended, but the strange circumstances have only just begun. The forest may yet hold some surprises.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Three: Regalis Apertura

Ignis couldn't say what roused him from his sleep. Whatever it was had him jerking awake, his heart pounding violently in chest as it pumped adrenaline to his battle weary limbs. He clutched at his shirt, feeling his heartbeat pound relentlessly under his fingers. His skin prickled with cold sweat and he could not help but fidget with nervous energy. All the symptoms seemed rather familiar, though not at all for himself. Nightmares, he realized. An ailment that Ignis never had to deal with in all of his years, though he found himself well versed. Noctis had often come to him as a child, shaking and crying. He never fully understood why Noctis became so upset, often telling him there was nothing to be afraid of. Now he understood, though he could not hold on to the threads of his nightmare. And though the details slipped away, something awful swirled in his stomach, threatening to have him double over and retch.

A familiar warmth against Ignis's side was the only thing that kept the anxiety from consuming him. He shifted to look at Noctis where he huddled between Ignis and the corner of the wall they sat against. The young prince looked like he had been through hell. And in all honesty, it was hard to see the difference from where Ignis sat. He watched the slow rise and fall of Noctis's chest, comforted just by the knowledge that they'd managed to survive the night. The slight pulling at his brow and the hitch in his breath told Ignis that the horrors of the night had followed Noctis into his dreams, as well. Ignis carefully draped his arm across Noctis's shoulders, pulling the sleeping form closer to his chest. Noctis seemed to settle into him slightly as Ignis rubbed soothing circles into the fabric on his shoulders. Slowly, his attention shifted away from Noctis to their surroundings.

Something was.... wrong. The entire sky was open above them, whereas he remembered hunkering down under an overhang. Most of the night had been a smear of adrenaline soaked panic, but he clearly remembered the last hour or so of his night, once the frenzy and stress waned. But he knew he was currently sitting in a different location than where he had fallen asleep. It seemed to be a room to the side of the main chamber, connecting with a crumbling stone arch. Certainly not what he remembered. No, there had been a staircase leading to a small landing, then continuing on to the darkness of the dungeons. He remembered the way Noctis would stiffen every time Ignis's attention would shift to the shadows below. He remembered opening a magic flask on top of an ornate brass plate on the landing. And above all, he remembered the flickering light playing against the pale expanse of Noctis's scarred back that made heat rise in his cheeks and threatened to rip the iron will from Ignis's grasp.

But there were no stairs in this room. There was no magic flask or even a sign that there had ever been a downpour save for Noctis's damp shirt that clung to his form where it belonged. The eerie red glow of runes had faded with the dawn, leaving only cold, dead stone. This was, without a doubt, not where he had remembered taking refuge. It was as if a fever dream had warped his reality, weaving his overactive imagination with reality until it was hard to distinguish the two. The whole memory fragmented as he began to doubt himself. Had it not been for the intense ache in his body, he would have written off the whole incident as a part of his too-vivid nightmare.

Noctis snapped awake and jerked his arm back to strike the weight of Ignis’s arm from his shoulders as he surged forward. Ignis's arm slammed back into the wall with a dull thud, his knuckles scraping across the stone. Noctis was on his feet several paced away before Ignis open his mouth to utter a curse. Ignis pulled his arm into his lap, rubbing at the newly torn skin and attempted to find his voice around the knot that threatened to steal it away. Noctis’s reaction wasn’t unprecedented. Ignis had learned long ago that being too close to the prince when he awoke from a nightmare could easily earn you a fist or elbow in an unfortunate location. It had been a hard learned lesson.

“Nightmares?” Ignis asked. His voice scratched against his throat as he spoke.

Noctis turned, gaze falling on his adviser. Those bright blue eyes pierced through him as if they expected someone or something else in Ignis’s place. The look that wormed its way inside Ignis's chest and tried to rip out his still beating heart. Fear. Unadulterated fear.  And for a moment, Ignis was afraid, too. He was afraid that Noctis had suffered a head wound that warped his reality and made him see daemons where there were none. He was afraid Noctis would turn and run him through in a fit of panic. Ignis cursed himself. It was careless to allow Noctis to fall asleep before he knew the true extent of the damage, he should not have fallen asleep himself. Why did he fall asleep? Another tense second passed and then it faded and the adrenaline ebbed. Noctis folded in on himself, bracing his hands on his knees as he gulped in air.

"Y-yeah, just a nightmare." Noctis's voice was quiet, abashed. He straightened and turned to face Ignis and did his best to keep his countenance passive, as if he wasn't nearly as shaken as he had let on. He scanned Ignis’s form slouched against the wall as if he was taking note of his condition. Eventually he noticed the scraped knuckles and flushed with embarrassment.

“A-ah, sorry. Did I…? I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

"Oh, no. I have been awake... long enough to be rather perturbed by  the state of things." Ignis admitted. Noctis's brow furrowed as he began to drag his gaze across Ignis's form, as if he immediately worried for Ignis’s own physical health. He could tell Noctis saw his weariness, how the chill of the night hadn't quite left him and his muscles never seemed to relax. He felt, perhaps, worse off than the night previous. He may have slept, but it had absolutely not been restful. Not to mention it had been too many hours since his last Ebony.

Noctis had began to notice the discrepancies between his memory and his current situation. He tugged awkwardly at his shirt collar as he turned. The cogs seemed to grind to a halt and Noctis's mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to collect his thoughts well enough to form a coherent sentence.

"Long enough to put my shirt back on and move us somewhere else?"

Ignis shook his head. He’d figured Noctis had awoken and replaced his shirt to ward off the cold. This new revelation didn’t sit well at all. His attempts to explain it away didn’t quite ease his discomfort.

"I'm afraid not. I was rather hoping you had an explanation.” He shared a significant look with Noctis, “And with that unsettling mystery set to haunt my dreams for a few weeks…  We both seem to have retained most of our faculties. You’ll forgive me if I request we leave this place behind us, whatever the case.” Ignis struggled to his feet, feeling every tense muscle strain against the movement. He carded a hand through his ruined coif, having no choice but to let the hair fall gracelessly over his brow. “I am certain Prompto and Gladio await us at the Haven if you feel well enough to travel."

"Okay... cool." Noctis nodded as he took another look around. His discomfort was palpable. He held a hand out to Ignis and helped him from the floor, "Let’s get the hell out of here, huh?"

 

In the light of day, the forest surrounding the ruins took on a whole new character. Gone were the haunting shadows and screams of daemons, replaced instead by gentle chirps and rustling of wind through the trees. Beyond the tower's threshold laid a path winding down into a wide courtyard that was slowly being swallowed by nature. Stubborn vines held brick together in place of mortar and trees filled in gaps between sections of a great wall that once encircled the tower. Had the terror of the night weighed so heavily on him, Ignis would have found it rather serene.

Unfortunately, the landscape was entirely unfamiliar. Night had stolen away both footpath and landmark, leaving them lost and turned around. From here, there was no sign of their path, the haven, or the Regalia. The pace Ignis set the night before had been agonizingly slow, but his attention had been anywhere but his surroundings. But the path before them that lead beyond the wall seemed as good a choice as any. He descended the steps of the tower, Noctis trailing behind.

Ignis stared down the path, the rigid line of his back showing far more weariness than he was comfortable revealing around his Prince. After all they'd been through, last night had taken more than just a physical toll on him. The weight of the world had settled like a noose about Ignis's neck. He had long ago taken a vow to look out for the Chosen King and protect him, and Ignis could not shake the feeling that he'd come dangerously close to failing. His recklessness had nearly brought about an untimely end to not only his charge, but two others he cherished. And now two were missing, and the other was only alive by the grace of the Astrals.

Ignis's jaw clenched tight, agitating yet another screaming pain.

"H-hey, Ignis?" Noctis began as he jogged up beside him, grasping his elbow gently and pulling him aside, "Are you... are you okay?"

Ignis didn't reply. He almost felt like he couldn't. He could lie, as he usually did and dismiss the question with a 'I'm fine.' He knew Noctis would accept the answer for what it was, a dismissal, and speak no more of it, or he could tell the truth and risk further dampening the already downtrodden and apprehensive mood. Ignis lifted his fingers to the bridge of his nose to adjust his glasses. An automatic response to stress. Finding his glasses absent, he moved instead to flick the hair from his eyes and pulled his arm gently from Noctis's grasp as he pressed onward again. He kept his slightly blurred vision on the path before him, doing his best to pick out which path he may have tread.

Noctis's expectant stare never wavered, even as Ignis ushered him suddenly to the left, off the path. The chittering of thousands of legs faded into the distance, and the swarm of Hundlegs went about their business, completely unaware of their presence. Ignis was in no mood to fight. He'd much rather take a longer path around than have to cut his way through more trouble. Not now, and never again if he had the choice.

"I'm fine." Ignis said finally, his voice flat. There was far more to worry about than how he was feeling. He'd deal with that later, after he knew everybody was safe.

"Bullshit."

Ignis had truly not expected Noctis to call him out. The tone in the Prince's voice startled him into a dead halt and Noctis stepped in front of him, hand coming up to grab Ignis's shoulder and hold him in place. Ignis floundered for words for a moment before hanging his head. Noctis continued in the absence of a reply,

"We've been friends for long enough for me to know when you're lying to me. Just because you decided to hide behind some wall once your duty became more important than our friendship doesn't mean that I don't still know you. Something's eating you, Specs."

Ignis stood still, looking through Noctis as he considered his words. The noose tightened. Ignis's nails dug into the flesh of his palms, but he forced himself to reply this time.

"Of course, you are right. My apologies, Highness." He said, mimicking his usual calm. But he said nothing else, pressing passed Noctis. The scowl of disapproval did not pass below his notice.

Noctis followed in somewhat strained silence as they continued on. Guilt weighed heavy on Ignis's shoulders the longer they walked. He had hoped that brushing it off would save Noctis the worry, but he could feel the agitation in Noctis's step that told him that the plan had backfired tremendously.  The awful feeling in his gut had not eased, and he found that he could not easily assign words to it.

It wasn't until glowing runes and a steady stream of smoke flickered between the thick boughs that Ignis finally decided to speak again. If Gladio and Prompto were waiting for them, he did not feel right bearing his heart to them as well.

"I miss paperwork." His voice was a murmur, almost drowned out by the rustling of brush underfoot. Noctis snorted, assuming he'd heard entirely the wrong thing, but quieted when Ignis continued, "I'm serious. I miss endless meetings and summarizing political reports... Used to be my biggest worry was how long it had been since you last ate a proper meal or if you'd found time to do homework amid all the reports."

Noctis looked at him, catching the edge of a brief smile that never quite reached his eyes. Noctis lowered his gaze and stuffed his hands in his pockets, as if he knew where this conversation was going. Ignis probably could have stopped there and got his point across, but Noctis deserved a full answer, didn't he?

"I thought I was going to lose you last night. I thought my carelessness had taken the rest of my family from me. I would give anything to return to a time when I didn't know how that feels." The words were difficult to say, and only scratched the surface of his guilt, but it would have to do. Despite how well versed he was with words, Ignis could never find the right ones to explain how much Noctis meant to him. Most of them had lost everything the day Insomnia fell, and if he lost Noctis... He could not bear the thought.

Noctis stopped in his tracks and grabbed at the fabric at the small of Ignis’s back, halting his progress. Ignis turned, casting a curious eye at his charge.

“Don’t.” Noctis began, “You can’t put this on yourself. Some things are even beyond your control, Specs.” He pulled Ignis around to face him.

Ignis looked down into Noctis’s stern face. Noctis’s full attention was on him and he felt entirely exposed, like Noctis could see every word he’d carefully left unsaid. He cast his eyes away, picking a spot on Noctis’s left shoulder to rest his eyes instead. But still he could feel himself being pinned by those bright blue eyes. Noctis’s hand was searing against his elbow where it rested and he had to swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.

“Noct—”

“You’re always taking the blame when things go wrong… None of this is your fault, okay?” Noctis’s hand dropped from Ignis’s elbow, and Ignis watched as Noctis continued on ahead.


 

The Haven was empty. The fire pit was cold and looked as if it had not been used in days. There was no sign of their companions save for a small scrap of paper pinned under a piece of stone near the middle of the camp. Ignis held it gently in his hand, careful to not let the sopping wet thing fall apart in his grasp. With the rain having had its way with the scratches of blue ink, the writing was hardly legible anymore. It could have belonged to their missing friends, but it was impossible to say for sure.

'Couldn't wait longer. Meet us in Cauthess.' was all that was scrawled on the note. The letters bled together and seemed to tremble in his imperfect vision. He couldn’t help but mourn the loss of both pairs of spectacles. Still, Ignis supposed the colored blotches of text resembled Gladio’s inelegant handwriting, but with no signature and no way to tell when the thing was written, all he could do was hope.  But it was still a shred of hope that they had survived the night and were safe. The worry bubbled up horribly again, threatening to pry open his ribs and rip the heart from his chest. Before now, he hadn’t truly spared a moment to consider their companions. Last he’d seen them, they were drawing off no less than three daemons. Three powerful daemons at that. But Ignis had managed to slip by largely unnoticed with his precious cargo, certainly two battle hardened warriors could hold their own. Noctis would know if they’d have been in mortal danger, right? Did their bond to the crystal even work like that? Ignis worried the paper between his fingers until the letters began to bleed together and nothing but a large blotch remained. And then he pushed the worry down once more and quickly closed the lid before his stoic indifference could waver again.

“Why didn't they just call...?” Noctis said, drawing his phone from one of his many pockets. Fingers grazed along the darkened screen, tracing the long crack across its surface. He tapped at it a few times, but there was no response on the display. The power button provided no help, either. He huffed a quiet and resigned ‘oh,’ and slid the broken device back into its resting place. The Prince’s phone seemed an utter loss.

Ignis patted his person in search of his own mobile. Each pocket in turn was empty save for a small handful of gil and pocket lint. It was not on him, nor was his jacket for that matter. Had he left it in the car…?

"I suppose we should consider heading to Cauthess, then.” Ignis said as he carefully folded the damp paper into a small square and shoved it in his pocket, loathe to allow even this small piece of litter to sully the haven. “It is a rather long walk, however. Shall we salvage some supplies from the Regalia before we head out.” Ignis watched Noctis slide down off the damp stone, heavily favoring his right leg. It was far too optimistic to think that he had remain unaffected by his childhood injury. If the crash alone had not agitated it, certainly the frenzied use of his magic surely would have. Noctis was trying his best to seem unaffected, no doubt trying to prove how tough he really was. But there was nobody around that he needed to prove anything to. Ignis could see the weariness reflected in Noctis’s gait, he’d carried his unconscious body through the woods, and taken care of him during the lowest times, but never once had he seen the young man as anything less than spectacular.

“Or we could rest here and see if they return. I could certainly use more rest.” Ignis said, deciding to give Noctis a way out with his ego intact. Noctis turned to him, giving him a searching look before shaking his head.

“If you need to stop, we can. But… I think I can make it if you can.”

“Indeed. I follow your lead, Highness.”

 

The sun sat at its zenith by the time the forest gave way and the road stretched out before them. Ignis would readily admit that the sight of modern civilization, though quiet as it remained, still brought a small amount of comfort. They followed the road for a time until they came to an intersection.

It looked different in the daylight. Though that was not hard considering Ignis recalled only snapshots, vignetted by blind panic. Rain on glass, a hulking form in the headlights, a shining blade, a metal barricade. The only way he was even aware they were in the right place was the mangled remains of the barricade.

Ignis and Noctis stood next to the mass of twisted metal, staring off into the undergrowth. Neither man said a word for several minutes as they surveyed the scene before them.

There was nothing but empty forest. In place of the royal vehicle was naught but mud and broken saplings.

 

Notes:

Updates are going to be a bit slower than I would like, as real life has a way of messing with schedules. I have some exciting art projects in the works that are absolutely interfering with fun stuff, but such is life, yes?
I intended to add illustration headers to a few of these chapters, and maybe when I have time I will still do so.

But I do have a question for you dear readers in regards to tagging. Would you rather I tag all the content I intend to write now and not get you invested in something you're not down for, or do I keep you in suspense until it is relevant? What do you prefer?

Chapter 4: A Day Away

Summary:

Noctis and Ignis seem to be out of the woods now for now. It seems that their bad luck isn't quite over, but a coincidental meeting with a familiar face seems to set them back on the right path.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Four: A Day Away

Noctis was still exhausted. He’d been moments away from stasis before that Red Giant laid hands on him, and he was still feeling the effects. He’d laid it on far too thick with the magic, not to mention that whole… being knocked out twice thing. The Phoenix down had helped them avoid any emergencies, but they’d never be able to replace proper care. At this moment, that’s absolutely not something they’d had access to, and both of them were feeling it. Noctis’s leg felt like it was shredding itself apart. The old wound made worse by the Giant’s crushing grip. It felt bruised and sort of out of place. Along with his back, they were conspiring to bring him down, and doing a rather good job of it. Ignis was more than understanding when Noctis had to take a break, even if it was taking much longer to get to their destination than originally intended. And despite his best efforts, Noctis was forced to take several between his back, his knee, and his oddly lingering stasis. And each time he’d get back on his feet his body would protest more and more until he wasn’t sure he would be able to get back up.

Hours had passed, and many miles lay behind them. Noctis would have sworn that the rest area was much closer than this. But… it wasn’t the first time they’d painfully misjudged distances on their map.  The forest had long since faded into the background, replaced instead by vast, cratered grasslands with the dim glow of the Meteor in the distance. Before them rose the Duscae arches that towered over the small Cauthess outpost. Instead of being a source of awe, however, they were more relief than anything else. It was a promise of civilization, of rest and food and an end to aching legs. And yet Noctis found himself doubting he would be able to make it without Ignis carrying him over the threshold like a blushing bride. He stared at the town, still a mile away, and groaned. He had set himself down on a rock, knee locked straight in front of him, burning with overuse. He clutched at his knee, trying to rub the ache from his bones.

As if on cue, Ignis appeared in front of him, concern in his steady gaze. There was no reason to ask what was wrong, it was pretty damn obvious. Ignis knelt as he gripped the finger of his glove in his teeth and pulled his hand free. He removed the other, then pushed Noctis’s hands away as he replaced them with his own. Noctis could almost feel his cheeks flush. Could he not? The fabric was pushed up over Noctis’s knee and Ignis’s warm hands wrapped around the joint. His exposed thumbs smoothed over the heated skin on either side of the kneecap and rubbed at familiar tension points, taut tendons and the silky skin behind his knee. Noctis flinched a little as the muscle and tendons protested, but Ignis would smooth them over with a softer touch and help ease the pain. Had it been anybody else, Noctis would have pulled away instantly, but there was no urge to do so with Ignis.  It’d been a while since he’d last allowed Ignis to do this, finding himself a bit self-conscious around Prompto and Gladio. But it felt good now knowing that there was no judgment or pity, just an old routine. And it felt… well, it felt good. Soon enough the pain ebbed away under his chamberlain’s patient and almost… prurient ministrations.

That particular line of thought was a new one, but he couldn’t shake it as he watched his friend’s long fingers massage the meat of his calf. It seemed so out of place among the otherwise mundane and innocent task to the point where Noctis physically recoiled, making Ignis pause.

“Better now?” Ignis asked, as he pulled his hands away and tugged the pant leg back down. Noctis realized then that he’d splayed a hand over his mouth and nose, hiding the rising color in his cheeks. Why was he even blushing in the first place?

“Yeah. I think I can make it now…” Noctis replied quietly. His knee did feel a lot better. The muscles unlocked for Ignis as easily as they ever had. And if Noctis was being honest, he was seriously considering bargaining for more later. His back could use some serious work. Noctis rose to his feet, testing his weary legs. He still felt somewhat unsteady, but the knee no longer popped and locked up when he put weight on it, so that was a win. He moved ahead of Ignis as they began walking again, hoping the red in his cheeks had gone unnoticed.



It had not been that long since they last saw civilization, but it felt like much, much longer. No doubt the two mud-caked and limping men nearly crawling into town gave that impression. Noctis didn’t seriously mind the looks they got as they passed apartment balconies filled with tenants enjoying their early evening activities. Ignis, however, withered a little. Between the rips in their clothes and the dire need for a bath, Noctis figured Ignis was just about on the verge of a panic attack being seen in public so unkempt. He couldn’t keep his fingers from absently scratching at the mud on his sleeve as they walked, though. Noctis couldn’t help but notice the subtle limp that his adviser had been trying to hide, just as he tried to hide everything else that would have his companions worry. Noctis’s own leg had been giving him trouble, as it normally did when he’d push himself beyond his limits. He knew intimately the urge to suppress the limp and soldier on as if nothing was wrong. So he also knew that Ignis was in moderate pain, and the blood stained gash in his pant leg left no mystery as to why.

“Noct?” Ignis began, putting his hand gently on Noctis’s elbow and drawing his eyes from the torn fabric, “Why don’t you continue on to the Crow’s Nest and get some food? I’ll try to procure lodgings.” He dug into his pocket, retrieving what change he could. It certainly was not the small fortune he’d been saving up for their surprise vacation at Galdin Quay, but it may feed one of them. Noctis felt a pang of pity in his gut just thinking about the lost Gil. Ignis had worked hard for that surprise, and now it was lost right along with his father’s car.

“Yeah sure. Don’t keep me waiting too long or I can’t guarantee there’ll be any left for you.” Noctis gave Ignis a cheeky grin and closed his hand around the few gil Ignis could spare.

Ignis’s hand lingered for a second at his elbow as he was given a once-over with a soft, but slightly disapproving pout. He pulled away and folded his arms before he spoke again.

“Well, at least try to act princely so they don’t mistake you for a vagabond and run us out of town.”

Noctis waved off the comment and turned toward the diner.

“Ah— and Noct?” Ignis called out, “Please be sure to—”

“—Watch for Gladio and Prompto, yeah. Will do.”

 

Entering the Crow’s Nest diner was the exact same experience each and every time. The smell of cooking meat and hot oil, the Justice Monsters V music barely overcome by the radio news report creating a slight cacophony of sensation that bordered on discomfort. Noctis slid passed a couple as they rose from a booth. They spared him nary a glance, and most other patrons followed suit. Either they were purposely avoiding his gaze or they were no strangers to ragged hunters dragging themselves over the threshold. Noctis made his way down the length of the diner to the far end where the noise of the pinball machine and radio were a little less intense. The booths were taken, leaving the bar the only option left to him.

“Looking a bit rough there, boy.” The man behind the counter turned his attention to Noctis the moment he slid into one of the bar stools. “Been out on a hunt, have you?”

“Ah— y-yeah? Well, no...” Noctis admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Not around here, anyway. Just had a rough night up in the Fallgrove.”

“I hear tell of some nasty critters up there. You hunters do good work. Dunno where we’d be without ya.” He placed a bottle of Jetty’s on the table in front of Noctis. A pity gift. A welcome one, sure, but he must truly look like shit. “Can I get anything started for ya?”

Noctis ordered a plate of fries and a cup of coffee, leaving only a few gil left in his possession. The daily paper was placed in front of him, which Noctis immediately tossed onto the seat next to him to await Ignis.

Noctis took a minute to look about the diner. People occupied most of the tables, mostly warehouse workers too lazy after a long day to cook their own meals, and a trio of hunters talking about their big hunt in the morning, but no familiar faces.

“Excuse me?” Noctis said, raising his hand as if he was trying to get a teacher’s attention. The chef turned around, his customer service face on full blast. “Hey, sorry. Uh… I’m actually looking for some friends. Have you seen any other hunters come through today?”

“Hmm… no, just those fellas.” The chef replied, gesturing over Noctis’s shoulder. “Had some come in a few days ago lookin’ like drowned rats, though.”

Noctis furrowed his brow and cast another glance at the hunters as if they might have transformed into the other half of his retinue when he wasn’t looking. Nope. Still just your every-day sort of hunter. “Oh… Well, thanks anyway.”

Noctis screwed his face into a brooding scowl and leaned forward in his seat to rest his head on his arms, face down. He was slightly put out by the news, but not exactly surprised. If Gladio and Prompto had come through here, they’d have been broke as well. They’d probably have gone straight for the caravan and crashed there. In that case, Ignis would probably find them and drag them over here. But there was always that nagging worry in the back of his mind, a little voice that whispered things he’d really rather not dwell on. What if they never made it out? What if the Empire snatched them? How could two people and a car just vanish over night?

Noctis startled when he heard a voice to his right, and he found himself opening his eyes, though he didn’t recall ever closing them.

“Thank you.” Ignis muttered as a cup of coffee was set on the counter in front of him along with a plate of fries. Noctis shifted his face in his arms and looked up at Ignis. His face was drawn and he tapped absently on the face of his mug. Eventually Ignis turned his attention to Noctis and they gazed at each other for a moment as each tried to read the mood of the other.

The green eyes that met his own looked almost defeated, like a kicked puppy in fear of another blow. It struck something in Noctis and his chest felt tight. He could only guess at what sort of self-deprecating thoughts Ignis was still allowing to run rampant. Noctis felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea what he could do to comfort Ignis. If he asked, Ignis was likely to just  brush it off and turn the situation around until Ignis was the one doting again.

Ignis was the first to tear his gaze away once the moment started to stretch into awkward territory. But he didn’t speak.

“What’s up?” Noctis said, his voice muffled slightly by his sleeve. “You look like shit.”

“Ever the flatterer.” Ignis said and huffed, half amused. “I’m afraid you must bear with me for a while longer. The caravan is unavailable.”

Noctis sat up and turned his head toward the group of hunters in the corner. There was little doubt that they were the culprits.

“Yeah, and it doesn’t really sound like they’ll be giving it up tonight, either. I guess there’s always those warehouses…”

Ignis hummed as he took a long swig of coffee. As he drew the mug away from his lips, he looked down at it with a disapproving grimace.

“Or hijack a car.” He said after a moment.

Tired or not, Noctis couldn’t help but laugh. Ignis looked at him. A smile was hidden behind the rim of the mug, but his eyes crinkled at the corners the way they did every time he smiled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, I guess. Did Gladio ever forgive you for that?”

“Oh, in time. I can be rather… persuasive.” Ignis chuckles, realizing how suggestive the statement could be taken. And considering the history between Ignis and Gladio, it was hard to tell if he was actually joking or not.

Noctis narrowed his eyes in mock revulsion and plucked a fry from the plate before them and flicked at Ignis. It flopped harmlessly against his arm and landed on the table.

“Just don’t go using those ‘persuasion’ tactics on me.” Noctis grabbed another fry and shook it threateningly in his advisor’s direction. Ignis chuckled.

“No? Shame. I hear they are rather effective.”

“Maybe try on those other hunters and see if you can convince them to give up the caravan tonight?”

Ignis laughed in his quiet, reserved way and shook his head. It wasn’t like Ignis to talk someone out of their accommodations for his own comfort, but Noctis was fairly certain that he would for Noctis’s sake if he asked nice enough. He was tempted, sure. A bed, even if it did double as a seat most of the time, sounded much nicer than the ground. Maybe those hunters would be willing to share.

“So… what’s the plan, really?” Noctis pulled another fry from the pile and nibbled at the end. He watched Ignis carefully lower the mug and set it down with a sigh. He tapped his long fingers against it before sliding it away, still awaiting a refill.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t see too many options for us beyond walking to the next town or perhaps attempting to catch a ride. Though…” Ignis trailed and looked around the diner before he continued, “I am loathe to leave until we figure out where Prompto and Gladio are.”

“You boys talking about Amicitia?” A familiar voice said from behind them. Both Ignis and Noctis turned and were greeted by an equally familiar face.

“Oh, Professor Yaegre. What a pleasant surprise.” As always, Ignis had managed to come up with the woman’s name far quicker than Noctis could even react. One of his many talents, he supposed.

“Oh, well if it isn’t my protege! I almost didn’t recognize you what with the mud and the flat hair.” She waved her arms in their general direction. Ignis blanched.

“I thought you were headed up to Meldacio. What brings you back here?” Noctis asked, though he realized his mistake a little too late, and Sania launched into a very detailed monologue that largely made no sense to Noctis. If Ignis was struggling to follow, he wasn’t showing it. He nodded politely, one leg crossed elegantly over the other and his hands positioned in such a way that made him look far more invested than he actually was. Yet another talent.

As it turned out, Sania had an apartment in the area, just a relatively short term arrangement while she moved about the country doing whatever it was she did. All Noctis knew is that it involved him trampling through swamps in search of frogs. She had returned to set her business in order after Ravatogh and was just on her way out to Meldacio.

Her appearance was like a blessing sent down from The Six. After some thirty minutes of back and forth between Ignis and Sania that Noctis was absolutely not paying attention to, the Professor was suddenly dropping a key and and an old model Libraphone into his hand before moving off to one of the other booths to strike up a conversation with some other patrons.

“What just happened? I think I fell asleep.” Noctis blinked at the items now in his possession.

“You didn’t catch a single word of that conversation, did you?” Ignis didn’t really need to ask, and Noctis’s face told the answer more eloquently than his voice ever could.

“I caught something about not having to sleep behind the Crow’s Nest?”

“Indeed. You would come away with that particular piece of information, wouldn’t you? No matter, it seems fate is on our side today. Professor Yeagre has entrusted the care of her apartment to us for the night, and the use of her mobile for a moment to try to contact our friends.”

“Talk about coincidence. How the hell did you manage that? She doesn’t even know us.” Noctis deposited the key in front of Ignis and poked at the phone’s screen.

“I seem to have two things you lack; A modicum of attention and charm.” Ignis said, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips. He dropped the key into his shirt pocket and plucked the phone from Noctis’s hands.

“Nuh-uh.” Noctis pulled the phone away from Ignis and turned his back, hunching protectively over the device as he continued to punch Prompto’s phone number, “You’ve done enough and haven’t eaten a bite.”

Noctis stood and moved outside, away from the eyes and ears of the Crow’s Nest patrons. The phone trilled in his ear again and again until Noctis started to think that nobody would answer. Obviously the phone was functional, or it wouldn’t ring at all, right? Maybe he couldn’t answer… maybe he would never answer.

He chewed on a nail. The phone rang again. Noctis’s nail gave way under his teeth. He shifted the phone, ready to end the call when the ringing stopped and a timid voice answered.

“Uh— Hello?”

“Hey, Prom—”

“Oh Shit, Noct!”

Noctis could hear Gladio interject in the background, apparently cursing his name to the six and trying to get his annoyance and relief across behind Prompto’s excited rambling.

“Where have you been, buddy?! We were worried sick about you. I mean we sort of figured your phones were gonzo when not even Iggy would pick up, but you never showed up at the haven! We looked for hours man, and then you never showed up in Cauthess and we had to beg Cindy to come drag the car out of the mud and we were worried sick about you, man!”

Noctis couldn’t reply. He felt like puzzle pieces were strewn all across the board, bits that he thought fit together suddenly didn’t anymore. He vaguely heard Prompto call his name before he spoke again.

“How… how could you have done that all in one night?”

“Noct, you’ve been missing for days.”

Notes:

Apologies for this taking some time. I kept going back and editing things, so now I have decided to post this chapter so I can't do that anymore. lol It has been a literal decade since I last wrote fanfiction, so saying I am self-conscious is an understatement.

I think I am mostly done with chapter 5, so that should be coming fairly soon. not sure if that one is going to contain sexual content, but I am pretty sure chapter 6 will. So, heads up, lots of new tags and probably a rating change to come.

Chapter 5: Exhale

Summary:

The boys get a moment of respite, but Ignis is still on edge, and Noctis is not helping.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Five: Exhale

Sania’s apartment was nothing if not basic. It was barely more than a studio, scarcely decorated and not a single ounce of personality in the place. Noctis had seen better decor in a two-bit hotel room if he was being honest. And maybe that’s all it really was; a room with a new owner every few weeks. Still, Noctis was grateful for it. He could not think of anything more conveniently timed than Sania’s arrival and subsequent departure. She’d given them full run of the place— access to spare clothes and whatever food she decided to leave behind. It was, to say the least, a small miracle. It was no three star hotel with room service, but it was better than literally every other alternative. Even camping was better than the caravans half the time. At least here they had a clean, functional shower and stove, and the sofa was stuffed with something other than fist-sized rocks.

And that’s where Ignis stood. He leaned heavily against the arm rest, one leg crossed over the other and his folded arms pulled tight against his chest. His gaze was low and unseeing as he retreated into his own thoughts. Noctis watched him for a bit, watched how he crossed and re-crossed his long legs with a nervous energy he hadn’t seen in ages. His elegant fingers played idly with the rip in his sleeve. He hadn’t really said a thing since the conversation with Prompto. He’d returned the phone and allowed Sania to escort them to her apartment and gather her things in virtual silence, leaving Noctis to fill the void as best he could. The news hit Ignis hard, much harder than Noctis. He didn’t have to ask to know why.

Ignis was, to put it lightly, somewhat of a control freak. His life was built on finely crafted schedules and knowing the location of each piece on the board. In their younger years, Noctis saw it as much more of a curse than a blessing, to the point of contention. It was difficult to ditch practice and hang out at the arcade when you could hardly take a piss without Ignis knowing. Noctis could see how going missing for a few days might feel like the end of the world to a man like that. And now he looked so… disappointed. Distracted by the scenarios running through his head of everything that had gone wrong, no doubt beating himself up over every tiny misstep that led them here. Noctis wasn’t about to allow that; not ever, especially after everything Ignis must have gone through to keep him safe.

He tossed himself onto the sofa at Ignis’s side, sinking into the comfortable cushions and folding his hands over his stomach. Ignis’s thousand yard stare disintegrated and his attention immediately shifted to Noctis. And then he smiled, the first in, well… days. It was radiant and comforting and so unexpected that Noctis found himself having to look away.

“What’s that look for?” He fidgeted slightly in his place with the sheer weight of Ignis’s eyes on him.

“Oh—” Ignis flushed a little as he turned his gaze away, “It’s nothing. I was just thinking…” He trailed off, long fingers tracing across his brow. His cheeks seemed a little more pink that usual.

“So…” Noctis began, drumming his fingers against his forearm, “…what’s on your mind?”

Ignis cocked his head to the side and sighed. His smile faded and the room almost felt colder for it, ”In the morning, I believe we will want to find transportation back to Hammerhead. Prompto said Cindy already has the Regalia in her shop. Sounds as if they were able to recover most of our possessions. From there, however… I find myself a bit out of my depth. Every fiber of my being is telling me to go back and account for that lost time.”

“That— that’s not what I—” Another expert dodge from his adviser. Getting him to say what he was truly thinking was like pulling teeth. Whatever was distracting him, Ignis obviously wasn’t going to talk about it, “I mean, is it really big enough of a deal to go all the way back there? I’ve had my fill, personally.”

Ignis shifted uncomfortably next to Noctis on the sofa, crossing and uncrossing his legs before finally pulling himself to his feet and pacing across the room. Noctis watched him stalk silently across the small apartment, picking at a small tear in his sleeve. It was hard seeing Ignis so lost. Rarely did his stoicism waver so.

“How do you stand it, Noct?” Ignis said at last, as he stood over the kitchen sink at the far end of the room, peering out the dingy window to the hills beyond, “You are quite accustomed to waking up someplace other than where you fell asleep.”

Noctis couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his gut. He had no ground to refute that accusation, and he knew it. Ignis turned a curious eye and studied Noctis for a brief moment before his surly mien dissolved into a soft smile. He turned his back to the window and leaned against the kitchen sink.

“Look, It takes hard work and practice to get this good at mundane shit. In all honesty… I guess it can be a bit disorienting, but I also know that you guys are always watching my back, so I know I don’t really have to worry about it.”

“Well, I cannot promise I was there to protect you this time. I cannot shake this bad feeling. A lot can happen in a day— Suppose the Empire got their hands on you.”

“You’re really struggling with this, aren’t you?”

“It is my job to keep you safe and I fai—”

“—No, Ignis. You didn’t fail. I’m here, aren’t I? I am in one solid piece and none the worse for wear, as you’d say. So why are you so upset?”

“Highness… I—”

“—Don’t.” Noctis put his hand up in warning. He could practically see Ignis’s walls being raised again. He had a habit of using titles instead of names as a way of distancing himself when he felt any sort of emotion.

Ignis sat quietly for a moment, that scowl set heavy on his brow again. He looked so profoundly uncomfortable standing there, his fingers drumming against the counter. Noctis wasn’t as good as Ignis was at the whole ‘comforting’ thing. He’d rarely needed to comfort Ignis— he was always the role model, unstoppable force to Noctis’s immovable object. What were you supposed to do when the unstoppable began to falter?

Noctis was on his feet faster than he’s fully resolved himself to an action. There was something Ignis wasn’t saying, and he was doing his best to build up his walls and make it impossible to reach him. Noctis had to reach through the wall before Ignis could close him off— he couldn’t help if he didn’t know what the problem was.

So far withdrawn into his thoughts, his eagle-eyed adviser didn’t even notice Noctis crossing the living room until they were nearly toe to toe. Ignis shifted, instinctively trying to move out of the prince’s path. Noctis reached out and grabbed Ignis’s elbow, keeping him from getting too far. He watched as Ignis’s eyes looked back at him in shock at their sudden proximity. His expression shifted into worry an instant after, and then settle into a calm sort of something that felt warm, but Noctis couldn’t quite put his finger on the emotion. He had to look away, suddenly very self-conscious of those intense green eyes. He suddenly found it hard to speak— what was he even doing here? It was just a simple hug he wanted, both for himself and for Ignis, but was he supposed to ask? Would Ignis even want that? Neither of them were really the hugging type. Hell, Ignis couldn’t even pose for a proper photo without doing that six-damned hover hand as if their mere contact would set him alight.

“Noct…?” Ignis’s voice was just a breath between them.

“I—uh… I guess I was just wondering if I could—” Noctis stumbled over his words. He felt the blush rise in his cheeks. He was acting like a schoolboy with a crush; he was going to give Ignis the entirely wrong impression. “You just look like you could use… like… a hug or something.”

Ignis placed a hand on Noctis’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before the distance between them vanished. Noctis was enveloped in Ignis’s arms, unyielding yet gentle. It was… not how he assumed it would feel. Gladio’s hugs tended to be one-armed and accompanied with a jostling slap on the back; They tended to feel like a competition of strength rather than a gesture of friendship. Prompto’s hugs were much like trying to wrangle a monkey and somehow made one feel more like a jungle gym than a person. He always just sort of assumed if Ignis ever let down his guard enough to actually hug someone, it would feel as starched as his suit jackets. Granted, maybe it was the current situation, maybe he was channeling the closeness they had in childhood before their lives changed, or maybe Noctis was just wrong about Ignis. He felt, suddenly, entirely safe with Ignis’s arms wrapped about his shoulders, his head tucked up under Ignis’s chin, ear pressed against his chest where he could hear the steady beat of his heart. And Noctis melted into it. The empty ache that lingered since he woke faded into the background, and the chill locked in his bones went with it. Noctis didn’t realize how much -he- needed this, how much he’d yearned for this simple gesture since the moment he stood on that cliff overlooking his home in the pouring rain, watching the remnants of his life slip through his fingers.

He locked his arms around Ignis’s chest and listened as the heart and lungs fluttered. He felt the breath catch in Ignis’s chest, his heart beat just a little faster. He felt Ignis’s words ruffle his hair as he spoke just barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Thank you, Noct.” Ignis pulled away, holding Noctis at arm’s length with a crooked smile set on his lips. It looked sad, “I am alright, but perhaps…” His fingers tracing along the scruff just barely visible along his jaw, “…I am simply a little uneasy, you understand. I must ask that you consider indulging my curiosity once we get our affairs in order.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Anything you need. But lets just… relax tonight, okay? We went through a lot of shit and we deserve some R&R.” Noctis backed away, letting Ignis’s hands fall back down to countertop. The air felt heavy with all the words left unsaid. But maybe now wasn’t the time. It had been an exhausting day and it seemed neither of them had the capacity to process their thoughts properly. Ignis just needed time and space.

So Noctis turned away and ambled back into the living room. He rubbed the back of his neck as he went and felt the ache and chill settle back into his body as he moved away from that moment, “I’m going to go—” He shot a gesture at the restroom, “I won’t take all the hot water, promise.”

Noctis made his way to the small restroom, keen on shucking his ripped and dirt stained clothes and soothing his aches under the hot shower. He was still considering asking for Ignis to work out the most heinous of his knots, but he also didn’t really want Ignis to fret more than he already was.

“Oh, Highness?” Ignis called after him, switching back to work mode as if nothing had happened, “Please put your clothes near the door. I’ll get them washed and repaired and find something clean for you in the meantime.”

Noctis nodded and closed the door behind him. He began to strip his clothes, leaving them in a heap in the corner as Ignis asked. They weren’t in the worst condition, in which he found a little relief. The rain had done most of the heavy lifting after the crash, but some dried mud still clung to the seams.

His skin, however, didn’t fare quite as well. He inspected the various bruises along his side and back, marveling at the mottled, somewhat unnatural colors left behind from his encounter with the Red Giant. He poked at it gingerly, but felt nothing more than a dull pinch of a healing bruise. He’d taken the Crystal’s magic for granted before, but at the moment he praised its blessing. Without it, that bruise would have hurt like hell for weeks. Or he’d be dead. No, not dead, not with Ignis at his side.

 


 

 

Ignis sat, perched on one of the kitchen stools, squinting down at the needle in his hand. It had taken him far longer than usual to conduct his repairs with the strands of thread blurring together in his imperfect sight. His mind was in a jumble, tripping over itself between guilt, distress, and worry. How Noctis could brush off the last day— the last few days— as if it was nothing was a complete enigma. They had all come inches from death, and that dark specter had not parted from him since he woke upside down in the Regalia. Fear wasn’t quite the right word for it… Haunted, maybe. And then there was the half-forgotten dream that had startled him awake. A dream of darkness and the growl of daemons in his ear as they picked at their flesh and pulled them apart piece by piece until there was nothing left. Ignis felt like he’d watched Noctis die over and over, and it had hollowed out a piece of him knowing that it would have all been on his hands. Yes, he felt haunted by this dream, a dream that flet more real than the needle in his hand.

Maybe if he could focus on a task, he could feel normal again and get back to routine. But until he could find his focus again, he would have to deal with his shaking hands making it difficult to pierce the fabric where he wanted. Still, he managed what he hoped was a half decent job on Noctis’s clothes.

He’d swapped out the mud crusted clothes for whatever he found left over in the wardrobe. They seemed to be mostly old clothes that had fallen out of favor for one reason or another. The pants he currently wore rode up in the legs, leaving his ankles awkwardly exposed. The shirt he found was a tad snug, and probably intended to be a slim fit for a female, but it still managed to stretch around his larger frame and preserve a semblance of his modesty. They smelled somewhat of mothballs and stale wood, but they would suffice. He hoped the clothes he dredged up for Noctis fit a little better. Still, it was all that was available until their own were repaired and cleaned. He had just started on the process on his own slacks when the bathroom door clicked open.

Ignis nearly jumped out of his chair, startled by the sudden squeal of old hinges. He turned, facing the source of the noise and his breath caught in his throat. There, standing in the doorway was Noctis, fresh from the shower and bare from the waist up. The sweatpants sat low on his slim hips, showing off a more toned physique than he was ever given credit for. The shirt was clutched in one hand, his towel in the other as he rubbed the water from his hair. His shoulders were a gentle shade of pink from the scalding water that Noctis preferred. Scabs and bruises dotted his arms and torso, the ones from the crash were yellowed already, helped along by the Phoenix talisman. But the deep purple bruise spread over Noctis’s side and hips, continuing on passed the hem of his sweatpants. Guilt settled once more in the pit of his stomach. Guilt over his part in placing those bruises, and guilt over how much he desired to soothe away those wounds with fingers and lips. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, trying to will away his selfish and improper thoughts. He began pulling the thread back through the rip in his pant leg and cinched it shut before he began to reinforce it, praying Noctis noticed only a cursory glance in his direction.

“Hey, Iggy?” Noctis began as he settled back on the sofa, “I-uh… I don’t mean to interrupt you or anything, but my back is acting up…?” He didn’t actually have to say more. Ignis was well aware of what that meant, and would honestly have been shocked if Noctis had not complained of some pain. Since he was young, Noct had turned down many masseurs, opting instead for Ignis. He figured it was simply a matter of trust and Noctis’s inherent stubbornness against social interaction.

“A moment, Highness.” Ignis said as he pulled another stitch through the cloth, “If you would find what we need, I will finish up here.” Truth be told, he was hesitant about the task. He told himself it was because he feared hurting Noctis more if he were to press too hard on a bruise or cut, but he knew better. But still he was hesitant, jumpy, and on edge, and knew he was far too exhausted to hold on to the mental fortitude needed to keep his mind off of Noctis. But as always, he would steel himself and push on as he always had, leaving no evidence of his infatuation.

 

Noctis returned a few minutes later, just as Ignis tied off his thread and moved to deposit their clothes into the wash. By the time he was finished, Noctis was splayed face down on the floor with his arms folded under his head. Ignis was well aware of the blue eyes tracking him around the room.

“Would you rather I clean up proper before I begin, Highness? I am sure I will not be the most pleasant smelling person at the moment.” Ignis asked as he approached the prone figure. Noctis made some displeased grunt into the carpet before he pulled his arms in and rose to his elbows.

“It’s cool, you don’t smell that bad. Plus, my back is making way more uncomfortable than you could.”

Ignis conceded with a small huff of amusement and knelt beside Noctis, grabbing the bottle from the coffee table as he went. He squeezed some of the lotion into his hand and rubbed them together to warm it up before turning to Noctis. He hesitated, fingers hovering just over Noctis’s back. He clenched his teeth and gently ran his fingers over the large patches of sickly purple and yellow bruises. It was bad. He silently thanked those missing days if it meant that Noctis wasn’t in pain… or didn’t remember it.

“Its okay, they don’t really hurt.” Noctis said, answering Ignis’s unvoiced question. Ignis could do nothing but trust his word, so he allowed himself to proceed.

“Fish pose, if you would.” Ignis said as he gently urged Noctis to lay back down. Noctis chuckled and moved himself into the correct position with his arms laid in at his side. As a child, Noctis had joked that it made him feel like a fish as he flopped around, unable to keep his little body still for more than a few minutes at a time. The name sort of just stuck after that.

Noctis’s skin was soft and warm against Ignis’s hands, and he hesitated only a moment before he pressed the heels of his palms into the small of Noctis’s back and ran them up along the junction between his lats and spine, and then splayed out his long fingers against his shoulder blades. The muscles were firm and well defined, carved from years of weapons training and their own shared acrobatic stunts. Gladio would often joke about his scrawny form, but Ignis could feel just how wrong the Shield was. Noctis’s body was more cut and defined than it had ever been. It was distracting. Ignis was about to repeat the motion when Noctis shifted.

“It’s feeling a bit weak on my right side, Iggy. Go a bit harder on that side or like… sit on my legs or something so you’re not all lopsided.”

“Apologies.” Ignis muttered. With a defeated sigh, he swung a leg over Noctis, kneeling over his thighs in this new position. He pressed his hands into Noctis’s back and smoothed them up either side of his spine again, earning an approving grunt from Noctis. He carefully thumbed at the muscles, feeling each dip and curve as they shifted just under the surface. Knot after knot slipped under his fingertips as he worked his way back down and began to knead the muscle. He’d never felt Noctis’s muscles so tense, not even after the early days of physical therapy when they began this routine. Ignis pressed down harder, rolling a knot under his thumb. Noctis let out a sigh and a soft groan followed.

Ignis’s hand twitched, but he managed to keep himself from pulling back. He was on edge, painfully so, especially in this position. His composure wavered. Having Noctis moaning while Ignis straddled him was not something Ignis had the ability to deal with at the moment. And Noctis didn’t let him off easy as he let another grunt slip.

“Am I hurting you?” Ignis finally asked, nearly unable to convince himself that Noctis wasn’t playing some cruel joke.

“Not more than usual, I guess. Feels nice, though” Noctis said, his voice partially muffled by the carpet, “Why, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Of course not. I am simply concerned for your comfort.” A partial lie, of course. The sound of his pleased grunts was making Ignis’s bones itch. He regretting agreeing to Noctis’s demands. Ignis wasn’t one to work in halves. If he was going to do this, he intended to do it right. After all, it could never be as difficult as the first time he gave Noctis a massage after finally putting a name to his feelings for the young Prince. And it certainly was not the first, nor the last time, he had to suppress improper fantasies. Even so, it was a painful twenty minutes.

“You worry too much. I feel a lot better now.” Noctis shifted, prompting Ignis to stand. He held a hand out to Noctis and pulled him to his feet. Noctis squeezed Ignis’s shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. That crooked grin made Ignis’s heart ache. Noctis grabbed his borrowed shirt and tugged it over his head as he moved away to the kitchen in search of water. Ignis quietly slipped out of the room.

 

A shower is exactly what Ignis needed to relax. The water washed some of the stress away with the dirt and sweat, leaving him feeling absolutely drained. His hands skimmed over his torso, taking stock of his wounds. His fingers caught on several cuts and scabs, but nothing worth worrying over. Merely minor bumps and bruises remained like ghosts of something far more ghastly. The old product was washed from his hair, and he scrubbed at his skin until it was red and irritated, but clean.

Satisfied now, he halted the shower spray and allowed the tub to fill instead. He slid down into the pleasantly warm water, folding his long legs into the too-short basin. He was greeted instantly by the sight of the torn flesh on his leg; a fitting parting gift from the Regalia considering what he had done to her. The wound was visually unpleasant, a ragged and scabbed line up the outside of his shin. It had not healed over well, an obvious sign that it had debris in it when Noctis used his mega phoenix. It would take a lot of elixir treatments to minimize the inevitable scarring.

Ignis sighed and gently prodded at the gash, wary of any pain he might cause. But as his fingers skimmed over the ragged edges, he hardly felt a thing. A slight pressure and a parody of pain, but not what he expected. His eyebrows drew together as he plucked his washcloth from the water and ran it across his leg, wiping away a bit more of the caked on blood. Still there was no discomfort. He pressed harder and scrubbed at it instead, insistent that he should be feeling some amount of pain there. But even as new, small droplets of blood escaped from the now clean wound, all he felt was a dull ache, hardly distinguishable from the rest of his body.

He watched the blood well for a moment before he wrapped it with the washcloth and moved his leg to rest on the lip of the tub where it could rest out of the way. Now was not the time to worry about that, he told himself, now he needed all the peace and relaxation he could steal.  He sank down a little further into the water and closed his eyes. There would be fires to extinguish in the morning, for now he had this.

 


 

 

The evening passed quick, and it was already dark by the time Ignis’s evening chores were finished. His wounds were cleaned and properly wrapped, clothing was repaired and cleaned and hung to dry, and Noctis was exactly where Ignis expected. He lay on his back, leg dangling off the sofa and breathing softly in sleep. It was an unfitting place for Noctis to sleep in his condition. Ignis sighed and moved to his side and gently shook his shoulder.

The only response he gave was a sleepy grunt.

“Noct? I’m going to pick up up now, alright?” Ignis said, hopeful that Noctis was at least somewhat aware of the warning. Once he received yet another half-hearted grunt, Ignis slid an arm under Noctis’s shoulders and the other behind his knees and hefted him up off the sofa. Noctis all but curled into Ignis’s chest, fingers grasping at the front of his borrowed shirt.

He walked carefully to the bed, kneeling on the edge slightly as he placed Noctis carefully in the center. True to form, Noctis was undisturbed and simply curled up the second he hit the mattress. Ignis tossed a blanket over top of the sleeping prince and it was immediately consumed in Noctis’s grip. Ignis lingered, half kneeling on the bed. Noctis’s face was lax and soft, and Ignis could not help but trace his fingers above Noctis’s brow and sweep the stray locks of hair from his eyes. Once again, he was spellbound. His heart thrummed in his chest as his mind raced through each ‘I wish’ or ‘what if’ one after the other. Then Noctis rolled onto his side and the spell broke. Ignis retreated.

 

The sofa was somewhat small— more of a loveseat than a sofa. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to serve as his bed for the evening. He did not mind; it was likely more comfortable than the foam mats they used while camping, though he did worry about his legs cramping as he folded himself onto the narrow sofa.

Unlike for Noctis, sleep did not come to Ignis easily. Finding a comfortable position on the couch was fairly easy, but it was the thoughts careening through his head and shoving more worries to the forefront that truly kept him awake.

He lay for what felt like hours on that sofa, eyes scanning the darkened ceiling above until the roof melted away into darkness and the cushions beneath fell away and the night reached out to claim him.

Notes:

You know... for a totally self indulgent chapter, it sure took a long time to write.

Just... let these good boys hug.

Also, just as a warning, the next chapter will contain some erm... explicit content. So, If you intend on continuing to read, you may want to pay close attention to the tags.

Chapter 6: Caught Between The Chapters Of A Dream

Summary:

Ignis wakes up in a very uncomfortable situation, and then, to both his relief and dismay, wakes up to a rather more uncomfortable position.
The tension is becoming unbearable.

Notes:

Tags have been updated to reflect the sexual nature of this (and future) chapters.
This chapter in particular contains some non-consensual touching in the first half, and some depictions of masturbation in the second.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Six: Caught Between The Chapters Of A Dream

 

Ignis didn’t recall closing his eyes, nor did he feel himself open them again. It felt less like he had passed from consciousness to dream and more like a slow shifting of the space around him, so subtle he hardly noticed until the change was complete. The blanket of darkness around him stretched deeper, and yet pushed closer; similar from one moment to the next, and yet vastly different. It was the chill that hit him first. Ice had collected in Ignis’s veins and settled deep in his bones. The aches he tried so hard to ignore felt like fire in contrast. His right leg in particular made him shift uncomfortably as the pain radiated from toe to thigh. Gone was the soft couch on which he laid himself down to sleep. Instead his fingers dug into hard stone and stale air filled his lungs. 

 He had zero experience with lucid dreams— that was usually Noctis’s thing. At least, that was the first thought that came to mind. After all, what else could it have been? This dream felt just as real as the waking world, but oddly more sharp; a complete contrast from what Noctis had often attempted to explain. The dark was more complete, the pain nagged a little louder, his ears rang in the complete silence. And he was freezing, as if the very air around him sought to steal the life from his body. Just where had his mind brought him? Was he conjuring memories of the night in the woods, pitch black save for the distant daemonic blades chasing behind. Or maybe that lightless stairwell in the ruins? The one who’s shadows set him on edge, the one he could not stop thinking about. Even in this dreamscape, the thought of it made his skin crawl. 

Something other than the rapid thrum of his heart caught Ignis’s ear. Faint enough at first that Ignis assumed he was simply jumpy, hearing shadows slide along the floor. At the end of a long, quiet exhale, he heard it again; something drag along the stone. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to raise up on his elbows and peer into the void.

 With a show of ungainly control, he fumbled for the light at his breast. Very cold and very bare fingers felt only silken fabric, damp to the touch and mussed beyond modesty. His hand dragged down his abdomen, too weak to properly tug his shirt back in place. Another dragging sound… closer.

He found the small light attached securely to his belt loop instead and after a few frustrating seconds, he managed to click the light on. It flooded the area and dispersed into a blanket of white mist that settled about him. It was cold and thick enough to keep him blind to his surroundings. It swirled about, agitated by a sourceless breeze. He’d seen this recently… A mist wafting up from the dark stairwell, lulling them to sleep against the cold stone of a ruined tower. And he should have recognized it back then, too. His stomach sank as the realization crashed into him; This wasn’t mist. The mollification of his limbs was not from adrenaline depression. There was a deep gurgling growl, so close to his ear that he startled, scrambling back as much as his weakened arms would allow.

The mist churned suddenly, chased by whipping limbs that descended upon him from the darkness. He had no time to process before the beast lashed out, swiping at the offending light. The tear of fabric echoed in the chamber as a thin limb ripped the torch from his body and tossed it into the distance. It clattered against the stone and flickered, but remained lit. The new angle illuminated the figure looming above, tentacles whipping with agitation. He found himself staring up into the fleshy maw of a Mindflayer.

His body moved entirely on instinct. With all the will he could muster, Ignis ripped a spelldagger from the Armiger and slashed the air above him. The spectral blade barely manifested as it struck flesh, the bright blue bolt of lightning arcing between the blade and the tentacle that threatened to close around his throat. The creature didn’t even seem to notice; the bleeding appendage seeped black ooze but continued to reach out for him. Something wasn’t right. Mindflayers were no strangers to Ignis. He had encountered several in their journey and had time to make note of their typical weaknesses, attack patterns, and and behavior. His Stormbound daggers should have done optimal damage, but the beast didn’t even seem to feel the attack. 

Ignis rolled to his stomach, forcing himself across the stone floor as he tried to scramble to his feet. The mindflayer swiped at him, its claw-like nails shredding fabric and skin alike. Ignis went down again, a scream of frustration and pain trapped behind clenched teeth. Ignis pushed himself off the ground once again. He needed to find his footing and orient himself. Running hardly seemed an option. He’d need light to make a run for it, light that was conveniently on the wrong side of a very powerful daemon. Fighting on the other hand, Ignis thought he might be able to do… as long as he could regroup. 

The cursed thing was aggressive, however. Not a muscle twitched in Ignis’s hand before he was staring down another attack. A curtain of red bloomed in the air in front of him as the Mindflayer’s cascade of tentacles unfolded as if it were casting a net. Ignis sprang back feet over head, dodging the grasping limbs as he had done so many times before. A tentacle grazed across his heel just as it fell out of reach, but the damage was done. Ignis lost his trajectory and hit the ground at the wrong angle. Pain flared through his right leg as he put pressure on it and he stumbled, colliding with the wall chest first . The daemon was on him instantly, its twisted form slamming him against the stone. Air was forced out of Ignis in a stilted yell. Tentacles wrapped around limbs, twisting in the fabric of his shirt, grinding his face against the wall, slowly prying the dagger from his grip.

Ignis gritted his teeth, his strained grunts echoing around the barren chamber as he struggled against his captor. His body was slow and powerless, like he was moving through chest deep water. He yelled in frustration as he summoned his second dagger to his hand. With his chest pressed to the stone, he would not be able to execute a good riposte, but all he needed was a stagger, a flinch, anything to loosen the grip the creature held over him. He thrust the dagger backward and felt the blade breech flesh, sliding into the pectoral muscle like a hot knife through butter. But there was no flinch, no bellow of pain. Had it even noticed?

Fingers wrapped around his throat and forced his chin up. The creature was a silhouette looming behind, light bleeding over the edges of its form by the discarded flashlight. The tentacles around its mouth shifted and splayed out in all directions, some flicking against his face and collar, leaving a fine trail of slime behind. As each one moved, Ignis caught a glimpse of a vortex of needle-like teeth hidden beneath. It inched closer, emitting that horrible gurgling growl in his ear. Putrescent breath made his eyes water and he held his breath. He could see the teeth contract and move with each unnerving vocalization in a grotesque mockery of speech. Then it exhaled. A cloud of freezing mist engulfed Ignis. As if he was submerged in freezing water, Ignis took an involuntary gasp. The exuding mist invaded his nose and mouth and filled his lungs with its poison. Immediately, the fight ebbed away and his vitality drained away in one shaky exhale. The shrill ring of metal on stone sounded distant as his dagger slipped from his grasp, his fingers completely powerless to continue holding on. 

This is just a dream.’ Ignis reminded himself, try to quell his terror. But then why couldn’t he fight? He should have been in control of this dream. Was that not how it was supposed to work? Still, strength drained from his muscles, leaving him little more than a puppet in the daemon’s grasp. ‘Just wake up and be done with it.

But his mind didn’t obey. 

He was expecting to be disposed of. Drained up and deposited in some dusty corner. It is what every other encounter with these beasts told him to expect. However, the daemon seemed to examine him instead. Odd squid like eyes roamed over his form, a human-like intelligence shining behind the slitted pupils. Why did it not finish the job? Why would his mind suspend him in a nightmare such as this? 

“Unhand me!” Ignis rasped beneath the frigid fingers threatening to crush his throat. As if in response, the creature tightened its grip and hoisted him into the air. He managed to raise his enfeebled arms, grasping the creature’s wrist as if might ease the pressure on his neck. His shoes scraped uselessly against the stone wall, kicking loose pebbles that skittered across the floor where he feet used to be. He could do nothing but stare over his shoulder into bright yellow eyes. Just as the creature examined him, he analyzed it. In that moment he knew it was useless to fight, and the soft voice in the back of his mind told him as much. 

Ignis was met with a look that made his stomach drop. Had it wanted to, it would have crushed him in a moment. But apparently it had different plans. It knew full well what it wanted, what it was doing, perhaps it even took joy in his fear. Perhaps that is what it fed on. Not flesh or blood, but thoughts and emotion.  A deep seeded dread worked its way into his thoughts. Maybe this is not a dream. Perhaps this was real and the peaceful apartment was the dream. Here, the untended cut on his leg throbbed painfully and the fear and panic bubbled too close to the surface, but there… He recalled the numbness he felt as he scrubbed at the torn flesh and the ways Noctis allowed his touch with nary a flinch. Ignis clenched his teeth and jammed his eyes shut. In this moment, the darkness felt so much more real.

Wake up. Please.

A chilled appendage slipped up the hem of his pants, curling around his calf and making the fabric strain, unable to accommodate the added bulk groping its way up his leg. Suckers pressed against his open wound, seeming to take special interest in the various lesion. Another arm poked at the exposed flesh of his midsection where the fabric had torn away. It began to explore his skin, suckers dragging across scrapes, making Ignis writhe. He shivered, feeling as if each touch from the creature sapped the heat from his body. It seemed inexorably drawn to his body heat, hungry for more contact, more warmth. That’s when the Mindflayer’s many arms began to pull at the cold, damp fabric, seeking unhindered access to his skin. The appendage at his chest slid between the gaps of the shirt, and as it pressed further in, and the buttons began to fail one by one, the expanse of his chest was exposed to the bitter chill. 

Ignis could hardly classify his movements at this point as struggling, in the end it seemed more like muscle spasms than anything else. But that hardly stopped him from trying. The thunderous beat of his heart became rapid in his ever growing panic. Speculating on the ineffable goals of the creature was pointless. If it had wanted to kill him, it would have done so long ago. For one reason or another, it wanted him alive, and that fact alone flooded Ignis with dread.

The Mindflayer’s exploration redoubled and tentacles pressed between fabric and skin in earnest, ripping away anything it perceived as an obstacle. Ignis kept his eyes obstinately shut, but he felt the fabric being torn from his body, shreds of his shirt barely clinging to his form as the tentacles moved on. They wrapped about his thighs and slid between his legs. He felt them curl and twist, groping at the heat and opening tears in the thick denim with chitinous little teeth. Another appendage slid over his hip and pushed into the waistband of his trousers and then his undergarments. Ignis jerked. The slimy tentacle slid along the crease of his hip, following it down between his legs. 

“Cease thi—” His cry was cut short by an elongated, tentacle-like forefinger forcing its way between his lips. The vile thing stroked his tongue, holding it down as it slid further into the heat of his mouth and silenced his voice. The taste of brine and decay sat heavy in his mouth, and it had Ignis feeling as if he would choke on it as it filled his senses. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, begging his mind to allow him to wake from the nightmare. The digit invading his mouth did little to take his attention fully from the threat of the lower limbs tearing at the tough denim and grinding against him. His skin felt like it was on fire, set ablaze by each swipe of cold skin against his own. He shifted his thighs still caught in the strong grip, hoping to nudge the errant limbs away from his sensitive skin. His struggling only made them more persistent.  

Tears squeezed out from the corners of Ignis’s eyes as a tentacle slid properly against his groin and began to rub and grope at the flaccid form of his penis. Heat rushed immediately south, and Ignis’s body shuttered and he had to stifle a weak groan.  Shame and fear did not stop the blood rushing to his dick. It did not care that the assault was entirely unwanted. The more they touched, the more heat that gathered between his legs, and the more interested they grew. Ignis moaned around the finger in his mouth, pleading to the astrals to just let him wake up or allow him to die on the spot lest he continue to suffer this humiliation. 

The daemon wrapped tighter around him, pulling him away from the wall and engulfing him almost completely in the veil of slick tentacles rubbing against his half naked body. He felt the daemon’s head move closer, the tentacles of its face curling over the back of his head and neck until those sharp teeth pressed into the base of his skull. A pained groan rose from his chest and a thrill of heat traveled down his spine and settled in his stomach. It was an odd sensation, feeling the Mindflayer’s influence caress his mind, sweeping away all rational thought. The tension in his muscles eased away completely, leaving nothing but a forced pleasure behind. His body moved involuntarily as he began to seek more, his fear and pain transforming into desperate need. His breathing became rapid even as the pressure on his throat increased, cutting off his air and making a static vignette dance around his vision. As consciousness slowly began to drain away, a growling voice arose in the back of his mind like an itch and pulsed through his ears with each rapid beat of his heart. He heard its voice in his mind as clear as his own gasping sobs.




S̴̠̻̟̞̦̖͗̔́̂̏̒̈͋̊̑͘͜͜͝͝u̶̫̰̩̝̱̍̎͋͝b̷͈̟͈̮̺̱̦̯̦̪̌̈́̌̃m̴̬̰͎̺̼͗̓͒͐̑͐̽̍̚͝͝į̵̨̫̼̯̠̖͎̭̽͒͜ͅͅt̵̜̉͜ ̶̦̟̬͚̰̇͐̌̏̾̆̇̍͘͘t̷̢̼̙̤̯͓͈̖̪̫̪͒ơ̷̭̯̞͈̟ ̵͔̓̒̐̈́̒̅̓͋ų̵̖͙͈͈͋ş̶̥̦̩̂̔͂̓͋̏̕̕̕͘͠͠͝

̵̝̠̬̤̳͓͉͎̅ͅW̸̡̮̻͂͂̊͒å̷̢̲͉̯̜̼͓͖̯͈̞̏̀͂̓͌̋̈́̈́̌͋̏͒͜͝͝ͅr̷̨̧̡̞̹͕̪̲͓͈̹̠̹͖̜̒̌̽̍̔̍͑͋̊̍̕̚͝r̵̛̥͕̼͕͙̹͒͗̽̊̉̏̚͜͝ĩ̷͓̩̫̯̖̠̞͊̈̅̂̇̿o̵̡̝̹̯̥̮̰̞͆ͅr̵̡̛̠̜͎̳̺͍̖̺̙̓̇͌̉̊͑̋̈́̀̅̈̒ ̸̧̢̜̘̱̬̲̻͚̳̣͕̩͇̀͗͑̈́̾͌̈́͑̽̆̚͜͝o̸̡̬̰̭̯̙͎̪̣̤͈̞͕͒͆̌f̵̢̤̳͔̪͓̽ ̵̡̛̠̼̻̘̯̦̩̪͇͍̱͑̀̍̈́̍͆̇̄͆̆̏̔L̷̢͓̮̙͕͎̰̦̳͌̑̎͐̈̑̿͠͠ï̷̡̼̝̜͛̇̂̑̚ģ̸̡̼̲̠̻͉͓̜̥̇͐̄͑̓̉̌͑̅̚͜h̷̖͚͈͓̒͋̍̑̒̊̏͊̇t̵͇͍̗͕̺̺͔̬͓͒̊͌͆͒͆̋̓̕͜͜͠͠͝͠

̷̧͍̟̣̌͆͋͒̇͐͒̋͋̄̈́̚̕͝T̷͔͚͎̮ö̷̲̗͖̫̝̯̥̗̻̯̱͉̯̹̭́̓̀̄ ̷̢̨͇̙̖̮̫̝̹͈̱̫̍͑̿̉͋̈́̂r̸̡̟̬̖̤̯͕̪̽̅̕e̸̘͋̓̂́̄̚̕͠ͅs̸̢̢̢̛̭̣̪̻̬͍̰̻̼̯̙̿̑͒̎̈́͛̾͊ͅi̵̢̦̗̠̰͒̔͆̆̋̒̚̚s̷̨̱̓͐̆̄ţ̴̺̟̭̞̯͍͔̣͇͔͚̮̼̓́̅̕͜ ̸̨̢̱̟͇͖͔̯̹̜̪͒͊̀̐ţ̵̢̛̻̩͈̤͇̰̲̦̀͋̆̓̆͝h̸͓̗̪̮͈̑̀̿̿̿͘ẻ̸̫̺́͂̆̈́͆̚͘ ̸̡̡͚̮͓͕͙͔̻̫̰̳͍̓̓̆͒̐̾̉̚͜d̵͓̑̐̌́̈́̈́͐̕͝r̴̛͇̫͍̮̙̫̉̀̽̽͘͜e̵̻̩͙̯̣̽͊a̴̪̖̟͙͙̦̹̲̞̘̾̏̈́̒̑͒̂̾͊̉̀͠m̶̢͕͓̖̘̼̼͎̺̻̆̍̒͋͂̆́̉͛͆̓́͘̚ͅ ̷̢͓̮̼̰̆͛̄̒̏͊̓̐͗̍̽̈́̉͝

̸̨̪͔͔̪̮̠̳̬̽̔͂̑̈́̎̒Ȉ̸̢͉̘̮̖͚̱͕̦̩̟̏̃̈̽̇ͅͅs̶̖̭̥̦͌̿̋̈̄̄̃̎̚͝ ̷̬̘̬̭͕̲̬̥̠̌͛̃͑͋͂̓̔͌͗̒͗̓͗t̴̤͍̮̖̓́͂̈̀̈̽̀̍̏̋͘͠o̵̦̹̹͈͚͍̹͎̒̿̔̏̾̆̾͝ ̴̢̛̭̬͓̭͎̇̔̄̚͜d̶̪̘̖͖̖͎͇͌̈́͒̿̐̕͜ͅḯ̷̢̪̺̟̬e̵̼͍̲̲̯̠̬͍̯̫̒͊̅̔̀̉̈͛ ̸̛̞̯̹̩͐̋̒̈́̄̔͑̎͗̉͝ṅ̷̥̬̳̂͊̾̔͌̑̂͌͑͗̚̚ȅ̶̮̥̺͜͜e̵̲̩̹̤͛̓̓̆̔̿͆ͅd̴̗͎͈̟̈́̎̃͗̅̔l̶̡̧̨̝̖̭̹͖̜̬͍͉͇͔͆̂̊̎̏̔͂̇̆͜ȩ̸̟̘̼͚̰͖̪̠̱͈̹̻͂͂̇͐͆̃̎̍͌̏s̵̛̪̲͕̠̙̝̜̗̥̥̍́̃̾̄͋̾̈̎ṣ̴́̈́̃̐l̵̡̛͓̺͉̖̳̺͕̻͉̗̘̝͈̑͂̄͐̈́̆̄̋͆̎͐̿͝ͅÿ̴͈̠̦̘̮́͛̔̈́

 

̶̢̠͓̗̦͗̒

 

It rang in his ears even as he woke to a room streaked by sunlight, filtered through half closed blinds. Immediately the dread pulled away, retreating back into his nightmares where it belonged. And yet the pressure on his body remained, the pleasure and heat between his legs making him writhe. He opened his eyes and was greeted immediately by a mop of dark hair. 

Slotted perfectly into the sliver of couch left unoccupied by Ignis’s body was Noctis. His head rested peacefully against Ignis’s shoulder, breath ghosting against the exposed skin of his neck. Their legs tangled together awkwardly, and each small shift of Noctis’s sleeping form made Ignis increasingly aware of how the Prince’s thigh pressed in between his legs.

His skin was on fire, and a blush was already coloring his cheeks. While his sleep addled mind was quickly forgetting the details of his strange dream, his body remembered quite well. Under the weight of Noctis’s sleeping form, Ignis was embarrassingly hard. He was in trouble. His hips shifted against the intrusion in an impulsive twitch. A groan rumbled from his chest to his throat, halting at his teeth as they clamped down on his bottom lip.

Noctis was practically squirming on top of him by the time Ignis got up the nerve to move. The little breathless huffs were so warm on Ignis’s collar, and his fantasies threatened to override his sense of self-preservation. Oh, how he wanted to feel Noctis’s hands on him.

He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t have to trust his voice to keep his composure. But Noctis didn’t so much as stir. 

“Noct?” Ignis tried quietly as he moved his hand to rest atop Noctis’s head, “I must ask you to move.”

Still, Noctis didn’t wake, though this time he did shift. A whine erupted from Ignis involuntarily as a warm thigh pressed against his rather unfortunate erection. It ached horribly, yearning for friction that Ignis absolutely did not intend to give it. Mortification wasn’t a strong enough word. The sheer level of impropriety had him grateful that Noctis was such a deep sleeper. Suddenly, he was glad his half-hearted attempt to wake the prince had failed. But he still could not just sit and bear it.

Had the body above him belonged to anybody other than Noctis, he may have been tempted to discard them to the floor and make a retreat, but he could not bring himself to wake his prince in such a careless manner. Noctis would call treason. Instead, Ignis forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and began to gently turn himself and Noctis until they both lay side by side on the narrow sofa. Finally, Ignis was able to slide free. Noctis groaned and rolled over, at least somewhat aware that his pillow had fled. 

 



The journey out from Insomnia had been harder on Ignis than he would ever be willing to admit. He spent years building walls around his feelings for his beloved prince, using excuses of work and duty to keep them intact. The journey to marry Noctis and Lunafreya had ripped them down like wet tissue. What was the point of propriety when all they had ever known lay in smoking ruins? Each day he worried he was coming closer to losing what little grip he still had on his honor. He was madly in love with Noctis, and each smile thrown his way, each morning he woke to Noctis curled against him, each moment they forgot about the roles assigned to them, the harder the journey became. And now— this.

Ignis gripped the edge of the vanity, knuckles white against the marble veneer. His head bowed between his shoulder blades and drew in a deep, calming breath. From the periphery of his vision, the reflection in the mirror mocked him.

“What in the Astrals’ bloody name was that?” He said through clenched teeth. He could barely recall the nightmare now, and it continued to slip away the longer he stood in the restroom, head down and unable to meet his own gaze. His mind was running at half speed and rattled its way through the shock of waking from a nightmare into the beginning of an erotic fantasy.

He turned on his heel, pulling off the sweat dampened shirt and turned on the water, letting it run cold. His teeth worried at his bottom lip as he cast a glance at the closed door. He had little desire to deal with misplaced hormones, or to confront the fantasies running on repeat in the forefront of his mind. But the heat coursing through his veins was driving him now, discarding inhibitions and drawing a needle sharp focus on the itch under his skin. Even the graze of his own hand against his bare hip was electric.

It had been a while since he allowed himself to indulge, his mind supplied, and Noctis wasn’t likely to wake up soon. When would he get another chance? Nobody would know. The tension coiled low in his stomach was hard to push aside, and it certainly wouldn’t take too much to relieve the ache. His whole body begged for it, screaming at him to get over himself and just do it.

Borrowed clothing fell to the floor about his ankles and was carelessly discarded. He stepped into the lukewarm stream and turned his face to it. Cool water cascaded over his overheated skin, running in thick rivulets down his spine as he pressed his forehead against the tiled wall. He braced an arm above his head, fingers clawing at his scalp.

His traitorous mind supplied image after image of Noctis’s pale skin, the delicate arch of his back, the way his tongue darts out to lick at his soft lips, the glisten of sweat on his ever burgeoning musculature. Ignis was palming his erection before he could truly talk himself out of it. He usually did his best to move away from such subjects in situations such as this, but good judgment was apparently not in the cards. He’d find time to feel bad about it later.

The first stroke was hesitant and light, fingertips just skimming along the thick vein on the underside. His long fingers wrapped around the base and slid up the length, twisting at the tip to rub his palm over the head. Another gentle tug had his thighs quivering and he picked up the pace. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the slit at the end of each upstroke and smeared precum down the shaft on the down stroke. The cool water raining down on his overheated skin only added another subtle layer to his pleasure.

He thought of Noctis’s thighs rubbing slow over his erection-- another stroke. Lips and breath ghosting against his neck— another. His stormy blue eyes looking up at him through long, dark lashes— quicker, harder. His laugh, his smile, the power and grace in his perfect body. Ignis was all but gasping for air as he drew closer to release, hips rocking in time with inelegant stroke of his fist as he fucked into it. Soft moans punctuated each breath and the tension coiled in his gut grew heavier. His eyes slid closed as his pleasure reached a fever pitch.

Tentacles greeted him in the darkness behind his eyelids, assaulting his body from all sides, pleasuring him against his will. The low growling voice in the back of his head demanding his submission. His thighs were shaking now, and each muscle in his body grew tight with the pending release.

“Ignis--” Noctis’s voice filtered through the door, just audible over the water. It was far too late for Ignis to stop. With the sound of his own voice on Noctis’s lips, his pleasure peaked. A gasp of pleasure forced itself from his lungs before he could catch it as both shock and orgasm washed over him. He clapped a hand over his mouth and dug his fingertips into his jaw as his seed spilled into the other.

“--I brought you a clean towel.” Noctis continued, slightly louder to be heard over the din of the shower’s spray, “And your clothes… figured you’d want those.” 

Ignis fought to control his breathing, pulling in unsteady breaths through his nose. There was a short pause of heavy silence as he caught his breath and re-centered himself before he could reply.

“Much obliged.” He said as he pulled his hand away, somehow managing to grate out something that sounded somewhat casual. Usually he’d ask for them to be left on the sink for him if there was a curtain present. But currently, he wasn’t at all comfortable with Noctis entering the room. “If you would leave them—”

“I’m comin’ in.”

Ignis heard the door swing open and cursed under his breath. Perhaps he would have to confront their expectations of personal space at some point. The haze of arousal faded instantly and shame filled the spaces left empty by his release. He opened his eyes and silently watched the water wash the thick white cum from his hand while the reason for his transgressions shuffled around on the other side of the curtain.

The towel rack rattled as, Ignis assumed, Noctis placed to towel on it, just inches away. His legs were still weak, his breathing still just a bit too rapid to be able to explain away should Noctis notice. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Noctis asked. He sounded genuinely concerned, and Ignis’s stomach dropped. Of course Noctis knew something was off.

“Your concern is appreciated, but misplaced.” Ignis said, the waver in his tone smoothing out, “There will be plenty of time to speak later. We have a long road to Hammerhead…”

“Oh, yeah… of course.” Noctis seemed to catch the hint and retreated to the door again, “I’ll see if there’s any Ebony around here.”

“Thank you, Noct.” Ignis listened as Noctis slipped out of the bathroom and all but slumped into the wall. He took a few long breaths. It would be hard to look at Noctis in the eye for a while.

Notes:

Apologies for the long break as I wrote and rewrote this chapter. Thank you for your comments and kudos! This chapter sets up a sort of theme that really isn't going to go away, so expect to see more bad-touching from everybody's favorite squid monsters.
I can't bring myself to apologize.

Chapter 7: Train of Thought

Summary:

Another day, another nightmare. Noctis is slowing coming to realize that maybe Ignis isn't nearly as put together as he tries to pretend.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Seven: Train of Thoughts


Noctis had been prone to nightmares since he could remember. Early in life, they had been attributed mainly to eating too much sugar before bed, an overactive imagination. One time, a particularly zealous gossip magazine tried to spin them as messages from the Astrals themselves. Experts had eventually decided it was simply PTSD. Either way, it was hardly uncommon for Noctis to wake up at odd hours with a dreadful sense of unease. He developed a habit as a kid to reach for Carbuncle or seek out Ignis. Usually both. But he found that this time, neither comforts were within his grasp.

 It had been a while since Noctis had woken up completely alone. In Insomnia, there was usually someone there to drag him out of bed, whether it be Ignis or some other unfortunate keeper. And now, being on the road meant constant company. It wasn’t too bad for the most part. He enjoyed the company of his closest friends and wouldn’t trade them for the world, but they were always there. Each of them were always an arm’s length away when he closed his eyes for the night, and he woke to the sound of their voices each morning. If he woke from a nightmare, all he had to do was roll over and he’d find one of his best friends to help ground him.

That had not been true last night. He recalled waking up with his heart beating so fast it ached only to find himself alone in an unfamiliar bed. He had stumbled, groggy but fueled with panicked adrenaline into the living room. Just the sight of Ignis on the couch was enough to get him breathing properly again. Noctis had meant to just take a moment and collect himself and go back to bed. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep after perching on the edge of the seat, but it was obvious now that that was exactly what had happened.

He found himself now, limbs askew and draped halfway off the couch cushions, and a crick in his neck that shot fire through his neck when he turned his head to look around the empty room. He’d fallen asleep with Ignis on the couch, or rather on Ignis, anyway. He’d only awoke when his pillow had abandoned him to flee to the restroom.

Noctis dragged his hands over his face as if he could wipe the exhaustion away. He idly reached for his mobile phone sitting on the coffee table and tapped the power button. Still dead. He’d forgotten. That was going to be an issue. Hardly anybody outside the crown city even used cell phones, especially with how a lot of the infrastructure had been ravaged by both the Empire and daemons. Getting a replacement or repair was unlikely.

He groaned and flopped back into the sofa, his phone smacking the seat beside him. He mourned for his game data, his stupid pictures, and the chat logs with Prompto from better days that still made him laugh when he had a chance to look back on them. He’d have to hold on to hope that Mr. Machine Whiz Prompto could salvage something.

The sound of the shower turning on dragged Noctis from his reverie and he turned to look at the restroom door, brow furrowed. Had Ignis not taken a shower the night before? He grunted and pulled himself to his feet, opting to leave the habits of one Ignis Scientia the mystery they had always been.

 

There was a small amount of cleanup that needed to be done before Ignis would ever let them step foot out the door. In his own spaces, a bit of clutter and an unkempt bed made him feel more at home, but he wasn’t so inconsiderate to leave someone else’s house in the same condition, especially knowing Sania would be gone for a while. And the thought of making Ignis do all the work made him feel a bit grimy. He pulled himself from the comfort of the couch and shuffled into the bedroom. The comforter was askew and the sheets had been kicked into a ball at the foot of the bed. He regretted his decision to help immediately. He shook out both layers, laying them haphazardly in place and decided it was good enough. Back in the main room, replaced the small sewing kit in the laundry room and pulled his own repaired clothes off the small drying rack. He changed out of the borrowed clothing and into his well worn outfit. Ignis had done a pretty decent job patching up the holes in the denim, managing to leave barely more than small patches of woven thread. Considering what the poor guy had to work with, the results were… actually pretty amazing.

Noctis noticed Ignis’s own clothing still hung on the rack and gathered the pants and gaudy shirt, folding them haphazardly and slinging a clean towel over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom door.

“Ignis, I brought you a clean towel.” Noctis said, leaning his shoulder against the door frame as he spoke, “And your clothes… figured you’d want those.”

The response Noctis eventually received was slightly terse. Ignis seemed upset, though off the bat he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it might have been. Noctis’s anxious brain told him that it was something he had done. He’d been half asleep when he went to seek Ignis out in the middle of the night, and hadn’t really considered why Ignis had opted for the uncomfortable couch rather than share the bed. It’s not as if they hadn’t spent the better part of the last month sharing hotel beds or walking up half on top of each other in their small tent. There was a nagging feeling that he’d crossed a line somewhere. He should have just stayed in bed and dealt with his nightmares like an adult. He should have let Ignis have his space. Still, Ignis had never been upset when Noctis sought him out in the past either, but he couldn’t help but ask if Ignis was good— physically, mentally; he just needed to ask.

“Are you feeling alright?” Noctis said, hesitant. It wasn’t exactly as complicated of a question as he wanted, but he wasn’t really sure he had the words to express what he was really asking.

Again, the answer Ignis gave was dismissive, and Noctis took that as his hint to leave Ignis alone. Ignis was quite obviously not keen on having him around. Noctis frowned, his gaze falling to his feet.

“I’ll see if I can find any Ebony around here.” Noctis muttered as he backed out. He barely caught Ignis’s reply of thanks as he closed the door behind him. 


Noctis leaned against his elbows on the parapet, fingers drumming against the side of his water glass. He’d intended to drink it, truly, but instead it sat forgotten between his hands as he stared off beyond the arching rocks and low tree lines. It was certainly a better view than the apartment’s carpet. He’d managed to find some ground coffee in an Ebony branded can, so hopefully that’d ease Ignis’s nerves a bit and he’d be more willing to forgive Noctis for being an inconsiderate idiot.

With the stress of their situation becoming little more than background noise, his mind was free to harass him with plenty of other thoughts. He’d been no more than a burden during their fight with the demons, not even able to concentrate long enough to see a literal giant spawn right under him. Gladio must be absolutely livid. He’d completely failed Ignis by absolutely taking advantage of his caretaker personality. Noctis had guilted him into a leg massage, coerced him into a back massage, let him mend their clothes while he slept on the couch, and then stupidly invaded his space not once, but twice. And what had he done in return? Make a pot of coffee? What was worse is that he had even considered dumping more of his stupid problems onto Ignis’s shoulders. These nightmares weren’t something necessarily new or different, but he still wanted Ignis to rationalize them away.

A loud groan issued from Noctis’s mouth and he slumped down, hanging his head between his elbows. He missed Prompto desperately. He was always so good at finding ways to distract Noctis from his own intrusive thoughts with humor and the charming stupidity that only Prompto had. Prompto would help him come up with a proper apology.

On the phone, they promised they’d figure out transportation and said they’d arrive as soon as they could. Gladio had demanded that he and Ignis stay put. Apparently he didn’t trust that they could travel without getting lost for a couple of days.

Every car that crossed his line of sight made Noctis perk up. Every old car and rusted out buggy was subject to his scrutiny. But each one was just another tired resident of Duscae, just trying to live their lives before the daemons forced them back into their homes.

Several more cars came and went before Noctis had finally had enough. He turned and slunk into the patio chair. He raised his head and was met with Ignis’s bright gaze. The older man quickly bowed his own head and stepped toward the vacant seat. Noctis watched him set his mug down and slide gracefully into the chair across from him.

“Hey Specs.” He mumbled, cradling his chin on his knuckles.

“Morning, Noct.” Ignis replied in a low, tired drawl. He held his mug of ebony to his lips, his eyes set stubbornly down at the table between them. Noctis scowled. Ignis was thinking too hard. All wrapped up in that stupid smart head of his, and obviously just cycling through his ‘human interaction’ subroutine. He considered trying to pull Ignis out of his thoughts, but the comfortable silence was actually kind of nice. But Noctis also couldn't stand the thought of Ignis stewing in his own distress.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry for…” Noctis vaguely gestured to himself when Ignis finally looked up, “…being me, I guess? I’d have died without you, and all I have done since is demand things of you, as if you hadn’t gone through the same shit.” Noctis watched Ignis’s eyes finally lock onto his own and a crease form between his eyebrows. He finally brought his mug down.

“Nonsense. Had I not wanted to do something, I would not have. You may be the Crown Prince, and I am duty bound to stay by your side, but it was by choice that I became your chamberlain.”

“How romantic…” Noctis said, side-eyeing Ignis with the ghost of a smile across his lips. “But seriously. I’ve been hogging all of the TLC. Don’t make me use my kingly authority to command you to let me spoil you, too. I owe you one… o-or many…”

Ignis turned his face away and pressed the side of his finger to his mouth, but Noctis could still see the slight flush rise on those high cheekbones, the way his lips parted when he could no longer contain a genuine smile. 

Noctis rather enjoyed the look on him. It was pleasant and comforting and felt so much like home that it had Noctis’s heart aching in his chest. It wasn’t too uncommon to see the occasional goofy grin from the usually too-stoic man, but still, it always felt like an accomplishment.

“Noct!” Prompto’s voice cut through his reverie. Noctis glanced over the edge of the balcony and caught sight of the excessively excited blond waving at him from an unfamiliar electric blue convertible. His face lit up immediately upon seeing Noctis’s face peek over the parapet, “Hey buddy! Good to see you intact!”

“Back at ya.” Noctis called down. He returned Gladio’s brief wave and turned back to Ignis. Ignis was still looking at him, a small smile set firm on his lips. The second their eyes met again, Ignis looked away as if caught.

“I’ll finish cleaning up. Why don’t you go down and greet them?” Ignis said as he gathered up his mug and Noctis’s forgotten water glass and stood.

“You sure?” Noctis asked, moving to follow Ignis as he made his way back to the borrowed apartment.

“Certainly. It’ll only take a moment.” Ignis disappeared through the front door, leaving Noctis alone on the balcony.

Noctis bounded down the stairs two at a time. By the time he’d rounded the corner, both Gladio and Prompto were leaning against the car waiting. Prompto immediately came to life as Noctis turned the corner. He was nearly tackled to the ground when Prompto launched himself forward, hanging half his weight on Noctis’s shoulders. He shoved Prompto playfully and clapped Gladio’s outstretched hand.

“It’s good to see you two.” Noctis said, “I hope your time during the last few days was better spent than ours.”

“To be honest, it was all a bit of a blur.” Gladio grunted.

“Iggy was pretty vague about what happened after we split. We were worried sick when you didn’t show up at the haven by the afternoon. Neither of you remember anything?” Prompto’s voice held an edge of false lightheartedness overlaying his genuine concern. It was a defense tactic Noctis had to get used to pretty early on, and certainly not just from Prompto.

“I mean…” Noctis rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He wanted to give an answer, but there wasn’t much to tell. No matter how hard he scratched at the wall, there was nothing but blank space where those days should have been. “I just remember waking up in some old building, setting out my jacket to dry, and then making the incredibly stupid decision to sleep. Probably not the best thing to do after a head injury, magic healing powers or not. But yeah, it really was just like… falling asleep and then waking up. I think I dreamed of something, but not like ‘abducted by aliens and questionable probing’ sort of dreams. I dunno, we must have been hit harder than we thought or something.”

“And how’s Iggy taking all of this?” Gladio asked, settling back against the car’s low frame.

“Actually…” Noctis began. He noticed both Gladio and Prompto perked up a bit, “I dunno, he’d been sort of quiet, actually. I’d sort of rather him be frantic and stressed, but he’s been like… quiet and withdrawn, but also sort of weirdly nice? I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Is that weird? Iggy’s always nice!” Prompto replied, happy as ever. Noctis never really knew how Prompto did it; keep up that happy tone despite all the bad around him. But maybe it wasn’t all bad, was it? He and Ignis were none the worse for wear despite everything, Gladio and Prompto were pretty well off and really seemed to have things managed. They’d not only successfully lured the daemons away, but they managed to get to Hammerhead and get the Regalia into safe hands. All things considered… maybe things were about to look up.

“Always?” Ignis’s voice was a few feet behind him, and he turned briefly to share a small smile with the other man, “I seem to recall a time you may have begged to differ.”

“M-me? Never!” Prompto said with that very telling squeak in his voice. Ignis chuckled as he moved by them. Gladio greeted him with a hand on his shoulder and slapped the car keys into his palm.

“So, what’s the plan, then? We still have a few days until we’re expected at Cape Caem. Did Cindy say how long the Regalia might be out of service?” Noctis spared another glance at Ignis, even as he spoke to Prompto. Ignis was looking at the keys in his hand with an odd expression. He could see the muscles in his jaw twitch, a tell tale sign of him clenching his teeth. 

“Oh! So get this! So, Cindy is basically the greatest woman on the face of the planet—” Prompto was bouncing on the balls of his feet, acting far too lively and awake for how early they must have left.

“—Tell us how you really feel about her.” Gladio cut in

“— And she and Cid basically dropped everything to look after your dad’s car! Cindy seemed a bit sad that they’d have to put off their vacation down to Galdin, but I’ve personally never seen Cid so happy about ‘fixin’ yer damn mess’ as he put it.”

“Kid’s trying to tell you that Cindy is going to transfer her hotel reservation into our name so we can still go down to Galdin. Says there’s some sort of solstice festival in town, so finding a room would be hard if we just sort of showed up.”

“T-truly?” Ignis tore his eyes from the small keychain. He sounded too hopeful. It made Noctis’s heart clench. It was becoming painfully obvious that there was something going on in Ignis’s head. “We truly are fortunate to have such kind people looking after us.”

“Yeah! It all worked out in the end, right? We’re all in one piece, back together, AND we get our own beach episode!” Prompto said, pumping his fist into the air. Yeah, Prompto was far too chipper. He must have slept on the drive over. Noctis gave him a playful slug in the arm.

“Well, then…” Gladio began as he moved to his normal position on the rear passenger side, “…Let's get this show back on the road.”

Noctis opened the door to take his seat as Prompto ran around to the other side of the car. Ignis didn’t move, he just looked at the key in his hand and clenched his jaw once again.

“I can’t.” He said in a hushed tone, “I can’t do this.”

Notes:

Sorry this took so long. I am not sure why I struggled so much beside the fact that there wasn't much action happening and I'm not really used to that.
But hey... beach episode next, right? Nothing bad ever happens during the beach episode.

Chapter 8: Once A Dream

Summary:

The tables have turned. After such an arduous journey, their fortunes are finally looking up. Back on track to their restful vacation in Galdin Quay, their luck holds out. Finally, they can relax with all that darkness now behind them. They get their beach episode.


“What was THAT?!” Prompto squeaked, not even letting Noctis flop down in his chair before he was once again excitedly smacking his arm again.

“I don’t— I don’t know.” Noctis stuttered. He reached across the table, swiping Gladio’s half-full beer and downing most of it in one go. Gladio didn’t even complain. He just eyed Noctis with an unreadable smirk on his face. It was hard to tell if he was amused or upset by their display.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Eight: Once A Dream

The day’s weather was turning out to be perfect. A bright blue cloudless sky stretched from horizon to horizon. Temperatures slowly began to rise as the morning turned to mid-day. If not for the cool breeze sweeping through the plains, it may have even been too warm. By all accounts, it was a complete turnaround from the last time they had traveled this same path toward Galdin Quay. Even doing their best to keep the tone jovial, none could suppress the dread that came over them as they neared the accident site. One would not even know that something terrible had happened there just a few days before. Only a few dark marks and a missing section of guardrail remained. And that was it. No fanfare, no nervous glances, no daemons to finish their work, and no harsh judgment thrown Ignis’s way. Noctis, sitting beside Ignis in the rear seats, merely gave his chamberlain’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. But then they took their right hand turn, and put the terror of that night behind them. Physically, at least.

They had hours ahead of them yet, and they happily took their time, stopping here and there to take in the sights of roadside ruins or find a quick bite of food. Not once did anybody question Ignis’s insistence at leaving the driving duties to the others. And even after everything, they offered him the keys every time they started on their way again. They knew he enjoyed being behind the wheel, how he’d used to find it oddly relaxing. They simply continued along as if nothing had ever happened.

The windows of their borrowed car had long since been lowered, allowing the breeze to sweep away any remaining tension within the group. True to form, Prompto had filled most of the ride with all sorts of plans for their stay. He had it all worked out, it seemed. Granted, most of it was wild fantasy. None of them knew what a solstice festival in the small resort town had to offer, though with the usual opulence of the town, there was little doubt that there would be plenty to keep them occupied. Truly the stress had melted away, once again exposing the light hearted ease of their group.

The treeline broke at last, opening up into the breathtaking view overlooking the ocean. Far below them stood the resort town of Galdin Quay. Even from this distance, it looked more lively than their previous visit. Decorated to the nines with banners and streamers, the bungalow sat in the middle of the cove like a gemstone amid the calm water. Under the midday sun, the water was a bright turquoise against the pure white sand, the cloudless skies reflecting off the gently rippling waves, and waterbound palms swaying gently between tide and breeze. After their ordeal, the darkness and pain and worry of the last few days, the contrast of the sub-tropical landscape was breathtaking.

A whole host of people had descended on the town, filling the streets with leisurely activities. Residents and tourists alike mingled around the Mother of Pearl and the surrounding beach. Vendor stalls had been set up along the walkway to the main hotel over the water. Food vendors, carnival games, artisan goods. Prompto had barely managed to find a parking spot and turn the ignition off before he was already halfway across the parking lot with Noctis in tow. Gladio and Ignis, as usual, left to do the adult tasks of bringing in their bags and retrieving their room keys. They’d been given two rooms, which in itself was amazing at such an expensive place. Cid must be doing far better financially than he seemed. That or they would be paying back their debt to him for the remainder of their lives. They’d both suspected the latter.

“How do you want to split this up? Put the kids in one and us in the other? Hell, I could probably convince them to let you have your own room if that’s what you need.” Gladio dropped his bags in the middle of the hallway with a disconcerting thump. He must have purchased a few new books since last Ignis noticed.

The suites were right across the hall from each other. On one hand it would be difficult to hear a shout should Prompto or Noctis need them in an emergency, on the other hand, he wouldn’t have to listen to their antics as they tried to find out who could snap their neck first.

“Perish the thought.” Ignis answered simply, shifting his own bags so he could bend forward and grab Gladio’s. “Sharing with you is acceptable.” Ignis put the key in the door and opened it to another breathtaking sight. Gladio, on the other hand, opened the other room, tossed the remaining bags inside, letting them land as they would in the middle of the room, and then followed Ignis into their own suite.

It held a passing resemblance to their previous stay, but it was clear this was a more premium unit. One entire wall was glass, looking out across the bay with an absolutely stunning view of the stone wings of Angelgard dominating the horizon. Large glass doors lead out to a balcony raised just over the water, and completely transparent on each side to allow a view of the sea-life swimming just underneath. A large bed was centered on the opposite wall, best positioned to fall asleep and wake to the perfect view. There was no doubt in his mind that this room had the better layout of their two suites. Considering the room across the hall was facing the opposite direction, that view would have been of the beach, the pier, and the beautiful span of cliffs and villas sat high on the hills above the quay.

While the rooms were beautiful, they were still fairly small with not a great amount of room for too many personal effects. The small wardrobe, to Ignis’s pleasure, contained both a place to hang clothes as well as an iron. He had pulled a few of his nicer shirts from his bag to hang them up and then instinctively reached for the clothing iron and board. That is when Gladio’s hand came out of nowhere and plucked the appliance from his hand and replaced it back in the holder.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not allowed.”

“Gladio—”

“Doctor’s orders. No chores.”

Ignis huffed a quiet “Very well,” and closed the wardrobe. “I was unaware I was in the presence of a medical professional.”

Gladio slung an arm over Ignis’s shoulders, guiding him away from the siren song of menial tasks, “Well you’re in luck. How are you holding up?”

“I appreciate the concern, but I am fine. Just shaken.” Ignis sighed. He truly did not want to get into a therapy session with the man, not now. Everybody’s concern over him was getting mildly irritating.

Gladio nodded slowly, “Shaken, sure. Is that what you call a panic attack over a set of keys?” Ignis elbowed him in the ribs, “Look, if you need to blow off steam, you know where to find me.” He gestured vaguely at the bed, earning another elbow from Ignis.

It wasn’t long before there was rapid knocking on their door and Noctis and Prompto were all but dragging Ignis and Gladio back outside to enjoy the sun.

 


 

They had little choice but to enjoy themselves. There was little about the day that was any less than perfect now that they had finally arrived at their destination. To Noctis, it felt slightly surreal. The atmosphere around the place made it harder for those dark memories of their first visit to surface very far before they were tamped down and put back in the little bottle in which he had stored them. Even seeing this many people in one spot had been a fairly rare occurrence outside of Lestallum. Normally he’d have scoffed at the crowds and found a quieter place to roam, but he really could not bring himself to be upset about any of it.

It took some time to explore each little market stall. There was quite a bit, not only on the walk way toward the Mother of Pearl, but also along the beachfront walkways. Each stall had something new and wonderful to offer. Unique pastries, handmade crafts, even some of the stores from town had set up small stalls. It really reminded him of the weekend Farmers Markets that Ignis liked to go to back home. Even now, Ignis had fallen back into the familiar old habits, chatting with the vendors about their wares like he was legitimately interested. He’d get smiles and compliments as often as he would give them, and he always managed to walk away having managed to haggle down the prices or simply wooed his way into a free item. He was an unfortunately talented manipulator.

Noctis himself made several purchases at the fishing shops, insistent that he would find time to catch a monster in the clear waters. It took all of three minutes before Prompto got bored watching Noctis obsess over bait and hooks, and after only a few minutes of actively trying to pull Noctis away, he’d given up and dragged Gladio away instead to ‘dominate the carnival games.’ They disappeared into the crowd effortlessly.

“I probably still have one of my older rods in the armiger…” Noctis said absently as he poked at some of the bigger, flashier spinners, “...I could teach you.” He turned to look at Ignis then, a hopeful spark in his eyes. Ignis opened his mouth, ready to brush off the offer when Noctis cut him off.

“We could sell what we catch to the restaurant, make a few bucks to… I dunno, buy something nice?” Noctis could still see Ignis’s hesitance, though. Fishing was purely something Noctis was interested in. He never managed to infect his other friends with the obsession, and they’d frequently protest when he wanted to stop for a while and check out local fishing spots. Ignis probably minded the least, as he usually got fresh ingredients from it, but he was never enthusiastic about joining in the activity itself. “I kinda wanna go closer to sundown so it’s not so hot and crowded on the beach. I mean—” Noctis rubbed the back of his neck, obviously aware that he was asking Ignis for something again. Something he knew he didn’t want to do on top of that. His voice lowered “--please don’t feel like you need to… I just…”

“It’d be my pleasure, Noct.” Ignis said. There was no trace of resistance in his tone, no ‘I am just indulging you’ undertones. He stepped closer to the stall, looking over Noctis’s shoulder at the wares displayed neatly in their cases. “What sort of bait do the fish around here take to best?”

Ignis had not been asking him, though. Noctis looked up at Ignis, who had shifted his attention to the shop owner and began discussing their options. Noctis was actually sort of touched listening to Ignis speak with the woman about line weight, bait, and the best time of evening to cast a line. It’s the little things that Ignis did some times that reminded him that despite Ignis being so up-tight and all business, he legitimately did pay attention to the things that Noctis enjoyed.

“Hey nerds!” A bag was suddenly shoved directly into Noctis’s chest, making him jump and stumble into Ignis’s side. He’d been equally startled, managing to drop money all over the ground instead of the vendor’s hands. Prompto beamed at them, proud of getting that much of a reaction.

“What the hell are you doing back already? I thought you went to play games.” Noctis asked, looking down at the clothing-filled bag in his arms.

“I got distracted.”

“I see that.” Noctis pulled one of the items from the bag and examined it. He heard Ignis apologizing to the vendor and finishing their transaction before turning his attention to the object in Noctis’ hand.

“How could we spend even one day of our Beach Episode without going in the water?” Prompto said in way of explanation. What Noctis held up was an obnoxiously bright pair of swim trunks. One that you’d only ever find in a resort town. A little cheap in quality, and almost more of a souvenir than something you’d seriously wear anywhere else. “That one is Iggy’s, I think.”

They were nearly a neon aqua in color with a kitschy silhouette of palm trees and birds, and seemed to be of a more close-fitting style. It could have been worse, Ignis thought, though sitting around half naked in the dirt didn’t necessarily appeal to him. Noctis pulled another pair out of the bag. This pair would be his own. It was a bright, deep purple with neon coral and jellyfish patterned across it. They were far shorter than Noctis would have picked for himself, regardless of the gaudy design that he’d normally not be caught dead in. Prompto had the gall to look proud of himself.

“Come on, let's get changed!” Prompto all but dragged Noctis by the arm, nearly bowling Gladio over in the process as he came up behind them. Ignis shot a knowing smile at Gladio, who held a slightly more reasonable looking pair of trunks in his grip,

“Enabler.” Ignis said as he moved past, humor tinting his voice.

“Enabler.” Gladio shot back, looking pointedly at the small bag of fishing supplies. He clapped Ignis on the back and slung an arm over his shoulder, walking back with him to their hotel room.

 


 

It was inevitable that they would have all ended up on the beach right away. Prompto would have found a way no matter what. Ignis just wished it looked a little less like he had been beaten to within an inch of his life while wearing eye-catching swim trunks. Two grown men with big grotesque bruises and carefully dressed wounds had every reason to raise questions. Regardless, they looked far worse than they felt, and many of them could be concealed with some careful bandaging. However, the four had moved further down the beach away from too many prying eyes and ears. After some time, the worried glances diminished, the self-consciousness faded.

As expected, it was Gladio and Prompto who became rowdy first. Always fond of roughhousing, it took all of ten minutes before their splash fight had devolved into all-out war, and nobody was spared. Gladio had the upper hand in most aspects, able to just pick up his opponent and toss them away. Ignis alone was spared from Gladio’s tactics, if not only because he simply could not hold on to Ignis long enough to try.

“Slippery bastard.” Gladio grunted as he finally managed to catch Ignis’s arm before he could duck away again. In the next instant, Ignis had pulled Gladio’s balance all to one side. Then with one graceful step to cross his leg behind Gladio’s and a swift hip check, the Shield was deposited into the shallow water. With a quiet chuckle, Ignis bounded out of arm’s reach as Gladio flailed out under the water in search of the man’s ankle.

Noctis leapt into the fray in the wake of Gladio’s loss, and he succeeded where the Shield did not. He phase-stepped into Ignis’s path, behind him one moment, then before him the next. His arms wrapped around Ignis’s midsection, cheek pressed into Ignis’s abs as Noctis tried in vain to trip Ignis and pull him down under the water. His previous technique of more or less climbing him like a tree had failed when Gladio plucked him from Ignis’s back. This tactic was better. More distracting, leaving Ignis’s legs feeling weaker than they had a moment ago. He was definitely in a dangerous situation. It wasn’t until Prompto came in from the side, barrelling into the both of them that Ignis finally lost his footing and plunged into the water. Ignis was released, and both Noctis and Prompto popped back up to the surface to congratulate each other on taking down Ignis. Immediately their attention shifted to Gladio, and with a war cry from both of them, they were off, intent then to take down the behemoth next.

Ignis rose from the water leisurely, sliding his hands through his now hopelessly unstyled hair. He slowly waded backward toward land, watching the other three men as he went. Gladio was easily holding his own, more or less throwing the other two off like they were nothing. Ignis took up one of the beach chairs now scattered across the expanse of beach and idly began to wipe the sand from his feet before wrapping a towel around his shoulders and kicking his wounded leg up onto the seat to begin carefully changing the soaked wrapping.

This was literal paradise. Seeing his friends smile and laugh without worry or care of what came before and what was yet to come— It was everything they needed. Events had fallen into place so perfectly from the time Ignis and Noctis had arrived at Cauthess. The whole experience was nothing short of a miracle. Not even the physical discomfort of his injuries seemed to want to disturb him now. How had they become so lucky? Not even literal salt in a wound seemed to want to disturb his peace.

Ignis found it bordering on unsettling. After a long streak of horrible luck and bad timing, it was hard to believe that their fortunes had truly turned. How could he still find a hint of darkness among all of this joy? When would that other shoe drop?

The evening was as beautiful as always. Warm orange bathed the water’s surface and turned the white sands into shimmering gold. They had already been sitting in relative silence for an hour, with little activity from the fish. Noctis had balanced his pole on his knee as he sat cross-legged on the dock. Ignis sat beside him, long legs draped over the side. Prompto and Gladio had literally run off, racing each other across the beach back to the boardwalk to catch the game stalls before they closed for the evening and then, hopefully, to secure a reservation at the Mother of Pearl.

“Kind of a wild forty-eight hours, huh?” Noctis said with a sigh as he stretched his arms above his head and laid back against the weather worn wood of the dock.

“Indeed. More than that, even.” Ignis replied quietly, still staring off toward the horizon. His mind was elsewhere, as usual these days. A fish could have dragged his own pole out to sea and he wasn’t sure he would have noticed. Noctis obviously caught onto his tone despite the one word reply.

“You alright?”

Ignis remained silent for a time, and then tilted his head back and turned his attention to the sky. Noctis didn’t press it. Another few minutes of companionable silence passed before Ignis spoke again,

“Do you want the expected reply or do you want the truthful one?”

Noctis turned his head to give Ignis a once-over. Even that was certainly not the reply he was expecting, if he was honest. He figured Ignis had raised his walls again and would put everything behind him and refuse to speak of it again. Noctis sighed.

“I want the one that you feel like telling me, I guess.”

“I truly do tire of that question. Are you sure you truly wish to sacrifice this moment for such a conversation?”

“Yeah, actually. When was the last time that you actually told someone how you really feel? You’re usually pretty good at pretending everything is fine, but I know you Ignis, and it’s painfully obvious you’ve got something on your mind and you just keep refusing to talk to anybody.”

Ignis hummed. It had been years since he was fully open about that sort of thing. He’d tried to compartmentalize his life, separating his private life and his work life. They were so inexorably twisted together that defining a line between them had become near impossible. He’d never gotten very good at it. In the end, his work facade dominated. Stoic and disaffected, politely distant and too focused. Eventually it had just pushed all other opinions, desires, and ambitions to the wayside. His personal relationships had suffered for the sake of his station.

“Perhaps one day I will find the courage to voice such things, but I’m afraid I’m not quite ready for that yet.” Ignis said after a moment. Noctis looked at him searchingly. He wanted to press on that, to draw Ignis out from behind his wall. But after a moment, he looked away again and didn’t press the issue. Ignis would explain himself in time, assuming he’d ever open up.

“Even the last two days?” Noctis asked instead. He recognized Ignis’s side-stepping. He had no interest in letting Ignis dodge the question again.

“Have we not already had that conversation?”

“Not without you immediately beating yourself up or making it all about how worried you were about me.” Noctis replied, doing his best to keep the annoyance from his voice. He was marginally successful.

Ignis sighed, resigning himself to another round of trying to quantify his guilt. “I am afraid my resolve has been shaken. My thoughts continue to return to that moment on the road and all that had to go wrong to land us there. There are things that as I look back at them, I am ill at ease with them. I get an unshakable sense that the whole event was planned, but the implication of daemons cooperating in such an operation is a horrifying one. I cannot fathom to what end they would work or why. And then ever since waking up I’ve not been able to shake the feeling that something is amiss… a looming dread I cannot ignore.”

Noctis understood immediately, “I felt the same way after Marilith. That sort of thing stays with you for a while. It’s hard. Life moves on for everybody around you and you’re just stuck reliving the trauma over and over. It’ll get easier. But, you’ve gotta let people help, and you cannot shoulder that guilt because you did nothing wrong. Alright?” Noctis stood, Ignis’s eyes following the motion. Noctis reeled in his line, and with practiced hands, cut off the old lure and hook and began to tie on a new variety— one that Ignis had purchased for him earlier that day. As he worked, he spoke quietly, “Honestly Iggy, I think you put even Cor to shame out there. If not for you, I don’t know if any of us would have survived. You literally carried me through a daemon infested forest after pulling yourself out of a gnarly crash and a few rounds with those nasty spider things. Without your glasses, at night, in the rain. I’m lucky to have someone like you at my side.” Noctis’s practiced fingers tied off the new lure. He’d focused his attention to the task entirely while he spoke, though Ignis knew it should not have taken him nearly that long to switch them over. Noctis frequently avoided eye contact while saying such sentimental things, pretending to be disaffected and aloof.

The look on Ignis’s face was unreadable, though he had relaxed a bit. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. Noctis nodded back and let the silence hang between them for a moment while he cast his line back into the water. He settled down again, considerably closer to Ignis’s side.

“So, something has been bothering me. It’s only kind of related, I guess.” Noctis said, fiddling with his reel as he gathered his words for what he wanted to say. Ignis simply looked over at him, slightly surprised that Noctis had so much to say, but ready to listen nonetheless. “So, I’d thought about it when we first got in the car this morning. I couldn’t put my finger on it until we were on the beach. Why do you think the daemons stopped attacking them when they split with us?”

Ignis’s brow furrowed, asking his question without ever having to voice it. Ignis had been worried about other things the whole day, it was only a small surprise that he didn’t catch the same details Noctis did.

“With how aggressive they were to us, how did those two manage to draw off several daemons and come out of that without a single new bruise? The only thing that makes sense to me is if those daemons had given up the chase. You can’t even tell they went through anything. While you and I are…”

“Ghastly.” Ignis provided. “That inkling had crossed my mind as well. I admit I do not know what to make of it. To my knowledge, Lucian magic can close wounds, but I have never seen it erase them. Something happened there that they have yet to divulge to us. And to add to that, I cannot keep my mind from wandering off back to those ruins. There are questions that remain within those walls. Days worth of questions.”

“You really want to go back there?” Noctis sat up again and tugged at his line a little, obviously getting a little impatient with the lack of fish.

“No. I do not want to return. But I cannot move on without satisfying that curiosity.”

“Would it help you at all? Seeing you lost like this sucks.”

“I am unsure.” Ignis sighed and fidgeted with the rod in his hand. Noctis frowned.

“If we don’t find anything, that’s a good thing, right? If there is no evidence of shady shit, then it’s not worth worrying about, isn’t it?” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than Ignis.

“I merely wish to assuage some lingering questions.I have been having dreams ever since we entered that place. I can’t fully recall them, but I wake with a fear and coldness and… aches… that linger. I fear they are deeper than simply dreams. They’re so vivid in the moment that I feel my mind could not have conjured it alone. And then the moment I wake, I cannot seem to remember it at all.”

Noctis perked up a little, turning fully toward Ignis now. “What are you saying? Like, you’re recalling something?” Ignis’s mouth turned into a thin line and he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve had dreams as well. I mean, nightmares aren’t really strange for me, but it felt different. Cold, as you’ve said.”

They sat in silence for a while longer, a wordless understanding between them. Maybe Noctis did understand how Ignis felt. He was just more willing to shrug it off and convince himself that it wasn’t a big deal. Unfortunately that is not what Ignis was trained to do. That unsettling coldness had been sitting deep in his chest for the majority of the day despite the sun and heat, the anxiety that something was off but not knowing what, like not knowing if you turned the stove off before you left the house.

They needed to go back.

 


 

In the end, fishing was a mild success. It had taken them several more hours and two more lure and bait switches before they got any hits. Noctis managed to hook a rather sizable Reef Trevally as well as a few smaller Giant Trevally. Ignis reeled in one or two as well, but opted to simply release them as he insisted they weren't big enough to be worth the prep.

They had pawned the evening's catch onto Coctura who graciously accepted. She would not confirm or deny that their contribution had landed them a very nice table that evening, of course. Dinner was very nice as well, as expected of Coctura's famous restaurant. Perfectly cooked steaks, fresh caught and well smoked seafood and any kind of alcohol one could desire. They savored the chance to have a meal prepared in a proper kitchen without all the limitations of cooking on the road, or whatever junk could be grabbed from a Kenny’s.

This was how their first trip to the area should have been, smiling and laughing with all the bad behind them and hope for the days ahead. They were determined to make that up this time, especially Noctis. So far, everybody had been pretty good at not allowing his mind to wander long enough to snag on the ragged edges of that particular memory.

Regardless, Noctis had too much alcohol but hadn’t yet decided if it was to cope or if he had just been caught up in the atmosphere of the night. From the sound of it, everybody else at the table had made equally bad decisions. Prompto had become increasingly loud with every bad joke he cracked. Noctis wasn’t even sure they were even funny at this point, but the alcohol certainly insisted it was. Gladio was a fairly laid-back drunk, though he could get embarrassingly flirty at times. There was a reason he never had problems finding partners. They usually blamed the awful romance novels Gladio read. He insisted it was purely for picking up ladies, but they all knew that he actually just genuinely enjoyed them. Even Ignis, the master of self-control that he was, had not been immune from the draw of a few good glasses of wine. Noctis wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen Ignis drunk, though that still might be a strong word for whatever it was Ignis was feeling. He always kind of assumed Ignis would be an angry drunk, snarky and rude. He was only wrong in one aspect as it turned out. Ignis was not an angry drunk, but he was an outgoing one. Still a little snarky and rude, but that was how he always was, it was just funnier when they had all had one too many. Noctis himself was largely just tired. He’d curl up under the table if they’d let him. Luckily he wasn’t quite to that point yet. He was still in a pleasantly buzzed mood where everything just felt a little easier to deal with.

As the night drew on, the Mother of Pearl’s dinner service began to wind down. They must have been sitting there for hours, enjoying the food and good company. But it was obvious that the night was really only just beginning. Bussers removed dishes while others began to move empty tables off to the sides. One band switched out for another, and by the time they got themselves situated and ready to play, a large space had been cleared on the floor. Once the musicians began to play, it became clear why. The tune was upbeat and was in a style that had been popular in Insomnia a few years back, especially in the clubs. He has only ever gone clubbing a handful of times before he decided it wasn't his scene. Dancing had never really been his thing either, but after attending so many events for various fundraisers or parties thrown by some rich socialite, he had learned to not dislike it too much. Plus, he had a pretty damn good tutor in that department, too.

Patrons began to filter onto the dance floor with various degrees of sobriety and skill, some with partners and some bringing only the drink in their hand to dance with. Noctis had to admit that watching a bunch of drunk people think they could dance was extremely entertaining.

“Excuse me?” A woman sidled up next to their table, drawing all eyes to her. She was clearly a beautiful lady, and confident enough in herself to approach a table full of men. She was clearly there to flirt. Noctis really didn’t want to look up at the women, dreading the possibility that she recognized him somehow or that he had otherwise caught her eye. But when he did finally glance up, he found that her attention was fully trained on Ignis.

Ignis politely put his wine glass down and folded his hands over his lap as he, too, turned his attention toward their guest. “What may I do for you, miss?”

“You could join me on the dance floor.” She replied. Bold.

Ignis chuckled into his fist, partially obscuring his small smile. “And may I ask why you picked me out among all the fine gentlemen already looking for a partner?”

The woman leaned in and lowered her voice, but not low enough that Noctis couldn’t pick it out over the beat of the music. “Because you’ve got the body of a dancer and you’re very, very attractive.”

Noctis glowered, realizing he didn’t particularly like the woman talking to Ignis like that. No, it wasn’t that. He could absolutely not blame the lady for thinking that way. She was objectively right. No, what bothered him was the idea that Ignis could respond positively and actually accept her offer. His possessive streak reared its ugly head. Ignis had always been his dance partner.

“Your compliment is greatly appreciated,” Ignis said, not bothering to match the woman’s hushed tone, “But I am afraid I must decline. I already have a partner for tonight, and I intend to keep myself available to him should he be bold enough to ask.”

The woman straightened up, slowly removing her hand from the back of Ignis’s chair with a small “Oh.” Noctis watched her walk away awkwardly while giving an obvious shrug to a group of women a little way off. When he turned back to crack a joke to Ignis about it, he met his retainer’s eyes straight on. Ignis still had the polite smile on his face, though it had softened to something less forced. It took longer than usual for Ignis’s words to actually click.

“What the hell, Specs.” Noctis said, feeling his face grow more red by the second. That woman had certainly got the wrong impression. Ignis’s words had sounded so… suggestive. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Like what? Was I being rude?” “N-no, it’s not that. It just sounded like we were—Y-you want me to ask? Why me?” Noctis had to look away when Ignis refused to break eye contact. He made the mistake of glancing at Prompto, who looked far too enthralled with the development.

The blonde took the chance to start smacking Noctis’s arm and unhelpfully adding his own opinion to the matter, “Come on, Noct, you two practice all the time! You two are so good together, like… seriously Pro!”

Noctis glared at his friend and then turned sheepishly back to Ignis. The other man had picked up his glass again and took a sip while he waited expectantly for Noctis to respond. Ignis was the one who had taught Noctis to ballroom dance, or rather they had learned together. Ignis just picked it up faster and had patiently practiced with Noctis until he could finally hold his own at those stupid parties he was duty-bound to attend. Prompto wasn’t wrong, either. All of those hours of practice had resulted in them becoming very comfortable with one another in several forms of ballroom dance.

“You really want to?” Noctis asked. He didn’t really need to ask. Ignis wasn’t in the habit of expressing interest in things he didn’t want to do. “I would certainly say yes if you were to ask. But do not feel obligated on my behalf. I am sure I can accept a rejection.”

Noctis sighed. Ignis never asked for much in the way of personal wants. He had already gone along with Noctis’s whims several times today. It was literally the least he could do. “Yeah, alright, let’s go.”

Ignis smiled and set down his glass again before he stood. He held his hand out in invitation. Noctis took Ignis’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He felt a little unsteady after a few ill-advised drinks, but Ignis was still somehow sure-footed despite having not really put down a wine glass all evening. The man was inhuman.

Ignis led them through the throng of people until they found a space for themselves a little off to the side where there would be fewer people watching and other dancers to get in their way. As they found their space, one song had ended and the band had launched immediately into a new one. Noctis was somewhat relieved to hear that it was a style he had experience with while practicing. Swing was probably one of his favorites to do with Ignis, and by extension, everybody else.

Noctis turned his gaze to his partner, who was looking back expectantly. With a small squeeze of his hand in reassurance, Ignis leaned forward. He just caught Ignis’s words over the band.

“Take the lead, Your Highness.” Noctis gave him a small nod, and with only a moment’s hesitation to gauge the beat of the music, he grasped Ignis’s other hand and pulled him into the first steps. The music was quick and lively, and Noctis felt a bit clumsy and slow. He had to knock the rust off. It had been a few years since he had proper practice. But Ignis patiently followed Noctis regardless, trusting him to find his own pace.

Confidence grew with each spin and each perfectly executed quick step. A step forward mirrored by a step back, a call and response. Ignis read him like it was second nature, needing barely more than the slightest touch to guide him into an acrobatic spin. And Ignis fully trusted Noctis to move in kind, to guide him in their jointly convoluted moves. Ignis danced like he fought; with a staggering amount of power and grace that could really put everybody else in the room to shame. Even Noctis himself was captivated, and he was accustomed to watching the way Ignis moved, the ways his waist could bend and his long legs moved perfectly in time with Noctis. Dancing and fighting alongside him was effortless.

Every time their eyes met, Ignis was smiling, obviously enjoying himself immensely. He hadn't seen that carefree smile in ages. Maybe it was the alcohol or the effort of the movements themselves, but Noctis felt his face heat. There was something in Ignis’s gaze that made his mind blank out. He was lucky the music had ended then or he would have made a fool of himself. Ignis didn’t move away immediately as their dance ended, staying well within Noctis’s personal space. Ignis’s face was flushed as well, and Noctis had a feeling even a lively dance like that would not tire someone like Ignis.

He could feel his heart beginning to beat faster, as if it was only now catching up to their rapid dance. It took a moment longer for Noctis’s brain to restart. He slowly peeled himself back from Ignis, letting their hands drop, though their gaze never parted. Ignis’s expression was painfully soft, affection clear in the way he looked at Noctis. His heart stumbled over itself leaving, Noctis breathless. He was afraid to put a name to it.

He had talked himself out of thoughts like that so many times in the past. He swore time and time again he was just reading too far into it. But it made his heart skip a beat every time. Plus, Ignis was drunk now. Certainly he wasn’t thinking about what his own face was doing. Noctis took a step back and finally broke eye contact. He glanced around them, now hyper aware of all the other eyes on them. Had they noticed the tension between them or had that all been in his own head?

The music began again, slower this time, and undeniably sensual. The kind of music that had all but romantic couples moving off to the sidelines. Tenebrean Tango was Ignis’s favorite. Noctis had even asked him specifically to teach him, though that wasn’t actually part of his etiquette lessons. He thought it would come in handy considering he was supposed to be marrying Tenebrea’s princess.

Ignis stepped back into his space and a hand settled instinctively onto Noctis’s waist, “Please allow me a final dance.”

Noctis nodded dumbly, unable to get his voice to push through the knot that had formed in his throat. He placed his hand in Ignis’s upturned palm, and settled the other on his shoulder. He didn’t often follow in this particular style, not since he had become somewhat comfortable with it. He would be expected to lead with Lunafreya, after all. But Ignis had taken the reins now. The hand on his lower back pulled him in tight, their hips and thighs slotting together as Ignis pulled him along in graceful turns.

Noctis could barely breathe. Ignis was so close, and Noctis’s senses were filled with his presence. The smell of his cologne, the heat of his body pressed along Noctis’s, the way the muscles in his shoulder moved under his fingertips when Ignis swept him off his feet into a low dip. Their dance was no less complicated than the last, and still their steps stayed in sync as they moved as one. Coming together and breaking apart, only to meet again without so much as a hair's breadth between them. Ignis's slender hand on his thigh, the brush of fingers down the length of his arm, and the warmth of his palm rarely leaving his waist for even a moment.

Pure seduction, that’s what it was. Without the professionalism of instructing or the shackles of sobriety, Ignis had fully embraced the inherent eroticism of the style. Noctis’s mouth was dry. Ignis could probably feel his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t even sure if he was dancing anymore so much as a puppet in this man’s capable hands. The way he could guide Noctis’s body as they moved as if it was merely an extension of his own.

When the music faded, he was vaguely aware of the people around them whooping and clapping. If it was for them, Noctis didn’t know. He didn’t care. Ignis was gripping Noctis’s thigh where it was hooked around his hip. His other hand cupped gently against the back of Noctis’s neck, fingers threaded into his sweat damp hair. Their faces were so close, he could feel Ignis’s unsteady breath against his lips. Noctis himself let out a shaky breath of his own.

What the hell had just happened?

Ignis reluctantly pulled away, his hands slipping away from their possessive grip on Noctis's body. Noctis nearly chased after the feeling on instinct alone. Their eyes met. Time stopped its flow, as if holding its breath for the next inevitable move, hanging in the air between the two men. But nothing happened. It was a split second later that Ignis turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd before Noctis had gathered himself again.

Sure enough, their display had attracted a good number of onlookers, eager to see a talented performance. Some of the surrounding women, including the one who had tried to flirt with Ignis earlier, approached then, cooing over how good he and his boyfriend were. Noctis’s ears were ringing. He felt faint. He couldn’t properly respond to the women, only managing a quiet “Thanks,” before all but staggering away.

He heard Gladio’s impressed whistle before he’d even gotten back to the table. Prompto’s eyes were the size of dinner plates, though Noctis couldn’t bring himself to meet them.

“What was THAT?!” Prompto squeaked, not even letting Noctis flop down in his chair before he was once again excitedly smacking his arm again.

“I don’t— I don’t know.” Noctis stuttered. He reached across the table, swiping Gladio’s half-full beer and downing most of it in one go. Gladio didn’t even complain. He just eyed Noctis with an unreadable smirk on his face. It was hard to tell if he was amused or upset by their display.

“Where the hell did you learn to dance like that? Is that even legal?” Prompto plucked the bottle from Noctis’s hands and put it back down in front of Gladio.

“He didn’t come back here?” Noctis asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and completely ignoring Prompto’s questions. He was a little glad Ignis didn’t return to the table, if he was being perfectly honest. He might combust if he had to look at him for the rest of the night. He knew his face was beet red, blood was rushing to places he really didn’t want it to.

"Iggy? No, he went outside, I think." Prompto replied

“I’ll go chase him. Sit tight, Princess.” Gladio stood and swept out of the bar, leaving Prompto alone to gawk at Noctis.

"Dude, it seriously looked like you two were about to kiss. The hell?"

“I think we were." Noctis felt his chest tighten with regret; Regret that he let that interaction slip through his fingers, missed. "Prompto, I think I'm in trouble."

Notes:

I bet you thought I'd never return to this, huh? I'm a little shocked myself, not gonna lie. Apparently I find it kinda hard to write things that aren't just endless conflict. Gimme that angst and drama and I can write endlessly. Happiness for the sake of happiness? Hard. But, It's amazing what you'll pick back up when you're really trying to destress. I do fully intend to finish this off so maybe it'll stop rotting my brain. I've been going back and forth on the next sequence of events, but I'll figure it out soon enough. What I can say is that it won't take me a whole three years to get to that point, I promise. I hope I've made up for it a little bit with this very, very long chapter.

Chapter 9: End of Innocence

Summary:

Ignis and Noctis grapple with the implications of Ignis's actions. Unable to face each other, they turn to their close friends for advice. Ignis finds himself in an increasingly dangerous situation. Just who had he confided in?

Notes:

This chapter contains some mild dubious consent issues near the end. Just wanted to warn you before we move into much larger content warnings in the next chapter. Hold onto your butts.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Nine: End of Innocence

Ignis's heart was still racing by the time he got to the beachfront. The coward he was, he had fled. He had allowed himself to indulge in a drunken fantasy, not thinking at all about the consequences. A wave of nausea washed over him, his legs felt weak, the blood rushed through his ears with the rapid beat of his heart. He sank down down the short retaining wall and let his head fall into his hands. Some time later, he felt someone approach and stand above him. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Save your lectures.” Ignis groaned.

“You fucked up, Ignis.”

“I am aware, thank you.” Ignis rubbed his hands down his face. Gladio sighed and sat back onto the retaining wall

“Getting handsy with the Prince of Lucis? You’re lucky most people out here don’t recognize Noct on sight. You promised you could keep a lid on that shit. What the hell happened?”

“You clearly saw what happened. It was a lapse of judgment on my part.” Ignis fully intended to stop talking there. There was nothing else to say. He could feel Gladio’s eyes on him, however. It made the back of his neck itch. After a minute, Gladio nudged him with a foot.

“Spit it out. What’s wrong with you?” He grumbled. Ignis swatted his foot away.

“Your decorum leaves much to be desired.” Ignis replied, barely loud enough for the man above him to hear over the din of ocean tide. Ignis sighed begrudgingly, but continued anyway, “It is wrong of me to be relieved that Noct’s wedding was called off. I feel the Astrals have handed me a second chance. But I fear that chance is not mine to take. There are too many social taboos I must tread should I continue down that path with Noct. But we draw closer to Altissia every day. I must accept that they may continue with the wedding regardless of the broken peace treaty. I am not prepared for that. I may lose my mind. I fear I already have.”

“So just say your damn peace. You’ve already blown the closet doors right off the hinges tonight. Running away was just about the stupidest thing you could have done. Now you can’t just go back and pretend like all of that was completely normal." Gladio growled, waving his arm back toward the bungalow. He pushed away from the wall and squatted in front of the other man. He pulled Ignis’s hands away from his face, demanding his attention, “I won’t lie, I think you’ve forced yourself into a corner here. Noct isn’t just going to let that slide. Kid’s oblivious but he’s not that oblivious. He knows something’s up with you now. You’d better hope he turns you down gently and you’re both able to get over it, or you get a few days with everything you’ve wanted before your heart gets ripped out in Altissia. Either way, this likely only ends in heartbreak for you.”

“I know.” Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. The nausea hadn’t abated.

There was still a chance to come back from the embarrassing situation. He’d certainly toed a line having initiated a very sexually charged tango. But it had been just that; a tango. Simply a dance, albeit infamously intimate in nature. He had confessed nothing in the heated moment. The style of dance may have been ill-advised, but everything else had not been explicitly uncouth. Intoxication had played a large role in that moment, leading him to not think beyond his own selfish desires in the moment. But he had still managed to restrain himself in the last moments. In addition, Noct himself was likely under the influence as well. With any luck they’d both forget about the whole thing once they had slept the alcohol off.

“Was he angry?” Ignis asked after a loaded silence. It wasn’t a question he wanted the answer two, but he needed to know regardless. It was his duty.

Gladio shook his head, “Nah, but he was shaken. You could have fried an egg on his face with how red it was.” Ignis grimaced. “I thought he might pass out before he made it back to his seat. He's confused, embarrassed, but if you ask me, he also looked horny as hell.” Ignis thought he might die right there, but Gladio didn’t seem to be done torturing him, “Kid might need a hand tonight if you know what I’m sayin’. If you play your cards right, maybe you can lend yours.”

“Gladiolus Amicitia!”

“What? You’re already fucked, you may as well aim to get fucked the fun way, too.”

“I have potentially ruined any normal relationship I can ever have with Noctis and this is the direction you take? Are you enjoying my humiliation?”

Gladio barked a laugh as he reached out to grab Ignis by the bicep and dragged him back to his feet. Ignis didn’t resist.

“Sorry, sorry. That was out of line.” Gladio chuckled. He began to guide Ignis back to the restaurant, eager to get everybody back on the same page. "Let's go, loverboy. We need to clean this up."

Ignis had not had enough time to compose himself, but allowed Gladio to push him towards his doom nevertheless.

 


 

Prompto was still staring at Noctis with his hands over his mouth. Noctis had put his head in his hands, the heels of his palms pressing against his eyes.

“Did that all look as… charged… as it felt?” Noctis asked, his voice lowered in an anxious mumble.

“Uh, yes. Absolutely.” Prompto replied from behind his fingers. Noctis groaned. He had really hoped it was all just in his head. “Is that bad?” Prompto continued a second later, finally dropping his hands back to the table.

“Yeah?” Noctis said, rubbing at his eyes as if it would get the vision of Ignis’s flushed face out of his mind.

“Buy why? How was any of that a bad thing?”

Noctis didn’t reply for a while as he sifted through his addled thoughts for the right words. He really had done his best to not think about it, to never put a name to his feelings. Being interested in a man like Ignis was a lesson in futility, made even more so by the nature of their stations.

“Because, Prompto.” Noctis sighed, “because I think I’m in love with him.” He let out a shaky breath. Saying it out loud felt about as good as he thought it would. Awful. It made his stomach twist in knots with anxiety. Prompto was dead silent. After a moment, Noctis raised his head, steeling himself for his friend’s reaction.

Prompto was staring at him, one hand pressed over his mouth again. But it wasn’t a disgusted surprise that he saw. Prompto’s eyes were bright with a shocked delight. It was honestly unexpected to Noctis. He may have been happier with a lecture, but of course his best friend was ecstatic. He loved the drama and intrigue of romance plots.

“Again, why is this a bad thing?! Isn’t that what dreams are made of?” Prompto asked again, in a voice a bit too loud for Noctis’s comfort.

“Because it’s Ignis!” Noctis groaned. “Literally anybody else is a better option than him!” Prompto cocked his head, confused. Noctis realized it sounded cruel, but it was no less true. He’d fought the crush for years. He knew how inappropriate it was to think that way about his chamberlain. It could get messy really fast. On top of all other reasons, Ignis was professional to a fault. He would never approve of the situation.

“Well, now you’re just being dramatic. But you still haven’t answered why.” Prompto grabbed Gladio’s abandoned beer bottle again and placed it back in front of Noctis who took it immediately and drained what remained of it, followed shortly by the remainder of Ignis’s wine as well. It still wouldn't be enough.

“Iggy is an employee of the royal family. He’s been on our payroll since I was six years old. And now I am more or less the de facto King. That power imbalance is massive. Plus, not only does he take his job painfully seriously, but the man is frigid. You saw how he turned that gorgeous woman down. That’s what he does. All the time. He has never once expressed interest in relationships.”

“Counterpoint; have you considered the chance that Iggy isn’t attracted to women?”

Noctis paused. He really hadn’t. Seemed a little bit like an oversight now that he did think about it, though. The assumption that he was straight or otherwise uninterested in relationships simply made Noctis’s crush easier to dismiss. The increasing likelihood of Ignis being interested in one way or another made a spark of hope ignite in Noctis’s chest, no matter how hard he tried to smother it. Entertaining it would likely end badly.

“Come on, Noct, think about it! You might really have a shot at something here!”

“Please, Prom, I don’t want to think about it right now. We’re all drunk, Iggy’s been in kind of a bad place, we’re a little disoriented. It’s such a bad idea. I can’t get my hopes up because it won’t go anywhere. There’s no way Ignis would want me like that..”

“Mmhm. He spends years trying to recreate a pastry because you expressed interest once in passing, he lets you put your veggies on his plate, he puts himself between you and danger more often than Gladio, your actual Shield. That man would probably burn down the world for you.” Prompto latched onto Noctis’s arm, shaking him as he spoke.

“That’s just his job.” Noctis muttered, hanging on desperately to his denial.

“Uh, no. No, you obviously haven’t seen the way he looks at you when he thinks nobody is looking.”

Noctis looked at Prompto sidelong. He shouldn’t want to know. He should have shut the conversation down there and just continue to pretend everything was as it was before. He’d become pretty good at the whole denial thing.

“And how’s that…?” Noctis found himself asking despite himself. Prompto scrambled for his camera and began flipping through photos. After a moment, he exclaimed triumphantly and shoved the screen into Noctis’s hand.

There it was, that look Ignis had given him that had knocked the air from his lungs earlier. The date in the corner indicated that it had been taken a week ago. Noctis remembered it. It was a night that he’d volunteered to help make dinner. He had been preparing sushi with the fish he’d caught that day. He’d thought Ignis was watching him butcher and filet the fish, but by the sneaky snapshot Prompto had managed to capture, Ignis’s eyes were certainly not on the fish.

Noctis’s stomach flipped. He looked back up at Prompto who was beaming with pride in himself. He was so proud to turn Noctis’s friendship with Ignis on its head. Noctis looked back to the photo again as the dread and anxiety began to spiral. Despite his best efforts, he could not come up with another word for the expression on Ignis’s face in that photograph. It was so soft, a small smile set upon his lips. It was undeniably a look of a person man in love.

“Noct? What’s that look for?” Prompto slowly pulled his camera back, and Noctis let it go without raising his eyes.

“I don’t think there’s any coming back from this, Prom, and that terrifies me. Realizing this thing is… probably mutual…” Noctis rubbed his face, “I don’t think either of us can ignore this anymore, but I know Iggy would never make the first move. I’ve got to make a decision that’s going to change everything between us and there will be no taking it back if I go through with it.” Noctis wrung his hands, his anxiety peaking, "And what if we're reading too much into it? It could be nothing, right? What if I make a move and he rejects it?"

Prompto leaned in conspiratorially, “So, what are you going to do? It's now or never. Gladio will be back with Ignis any minute, you’re on a timer.”

Noctis bit his lip. He truly did not know. It seemed too big of a decision. He wished he could ask Ignis what to do. He always knew what to do. “I-I can’t. I need more time. I really, really don’t think I can even look at him yet. I'll get flustered and screw everything up. I can’t face him. Not yet.”

“Sure, man. But, don’t draw it out too long. It'll be torture for all of us if both you and Iggy are avoiding each other. We’re on vacation. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, ya know?"

A few short minutes later, just as predicted, Gladio stopped in front of the table. Noctis didn’t even notice, far too absorbed in his thoughts. Ignis came up a step behind with a stony look on his downturned face, like a man being lead to the gallows.

“O-oh, hey, you found him!” Prompto said, apprehensive, as they approached. Ignis raised his head, just in time to see Noctis jerk his head in their direction, pale, and turn his back immediately. His panic was clear.

“Noct…” Ignis called, pleading. Noctis’s hackles raised. Before Ignis could call his name again, Noctis rose from his seat, not sparing a single look at any of his friends, and implemented the same tactics Ignis had a short time before, and simply walked away. “Sorry Iggy, he’s…uh… he said he doesn’t want to see you.” Prompto had the courtesy to look apologetic as he rubbed the back of his neck. He’d been saddled with the unpleasant task of speaking for his friend. Ignis’s stomach dropped out.

“Prompto, what the hell?” Gladio hissed.

“What? That's what he said!”

Gladio was about to yell or charge after Noctis when Ignis grabbed his arm, gave him a stern look and shook his head.

“I appreciate the honesty. Please, relay my remorse should he care to hear it. Please enjoy the rest of your night, I’ll take my leave.” Ignis brushed past. They let him go.

 


 

Ignis leaned against the railing of the room’s balcony, wringing his hands until they began to ache. They were cold despite the pleasant warmth of the night. He could not guess how long he’d been there, staring absently at the shadow of Angelgard in the distance, dimly lit by the bright moon. It was unbearable to be in his own company. He had tried to go to bed, but every time he closed his eyes, a creeping darkness threatened to overwhelm him. It startled him awake the second he started to finally doze off. Not even a sleeping pill let his mind settle. The second failed as well. It was just another bad idea in a long line in missteps he’d made that day. Hopefully the alcohol was far enough out of his system as to not cause damage. He had officially reached the self-destruct stage.

“Hey, you’re still up?” Gladio said from the door. Ignis hadn’t heard him come in, but he wasn’t surprised by that fact. His mind was still foggy and rattled.

“Against my will.” Ignis replied, not bothering to turn from the view, “What time is it?”

“Just after two.” Gladio joined Ignis on the balcony, sidling up to him shoulder to shoulder. He smelled like whiskey and women's perfume.

“How intoxicated are you?”

Gladio laughed, “Irresponsibly so.”

“And the other two?”.

“They left not too long after you did. I was schmoozin’”

Ignis hummed. Is that what he called that? He felt a little better knowing that Noctis had at least been responsible and left at a somewhat reasonable time, though. He became aware of Gladio’s stare after a few moments and raised an eyebrow at the man. His eyes seemed so bright in the dim moonlight, shimmering a yellow that really caught Ignis off guard. An unease crept in.

"Why are you so determined to be miserable?"

Ignis scoffed at his words, "Pray tell, what do you mean by that?"

"Most of the day was so nearly perfect. We've had a string of incredibly good luck, all the pieces falling into line like they never have before, and yet you're here sitting alone in the dark because you sabotaged your own chance with Noct. You had him in the palm of your hand."

It was hard to deny that the day had been oddly good. That's why it made him wary. Since when had the world begun to go easy on them? For years, everything had been a disaster waiting to happen, always a fire to extinguish, a problem to solve, a wound to tend to. He'd found the good fortune too hard to accept, hung up on looking for that next disaster until he had managed to create one for himself.

"You've changed your stance on the subject, have you?" Ignis asked at length as he eyed Gladio suspiciously. How many fights had they had on the very subject? It had nearly destroyed their friendship at times. Seemed out of character to encourage it now.

"I still think it's irresponsible and fucking stupid. But you're not going to stop struggling until you get your hands on him. If you're okay with having your heart ripped out and burned in front of you, then who the fuck am I to stop that? As long as Noct stays on course, I guess it doesn't matter who he's sleeping with. I just want you to be happy."

Gladio stared at Ignis for some time, fully expecting the man to retaliate. He didn't. Ignis was defeated. He'd shown Noctis a small portion of the love he held for him and it was rejected. Between the alcohol and the disappointment, he was in no mood to fight.

"You misunderstand. My desire is not to just sleep with him. I merely wish to love him openly without fear of rejection and judgment. But I fear because our stations as King and Servant that it is not a practical outcome." Ignis finally said.

"King of what, exactly? What Kingdom is he ruling? Lucis belongs to the Niffs now. The kid is King in name only. And we can't be in the employ of a government that doesn't exist. We're all still here by choice and an overinflated sense of duty now."

"You're crossing the line, Gladio. I don't wish to discuss this further tonight. You're infuriatingly disrespectful when you're intoxicated."

“Astrals, Ignis, you are frustrating. You've really gotta blow off some of that steam or you're implode. Take your mind off the kid for a while. What do you say?” Gladio said after a minute. He had a look in his eye that made Ignis instantly aware of what he was asking. Not a grueling run, not sparring, but something that was just another extremely bad idea. Right in line with everything else Ignis had chosen that night. Less stupid than pursuing Noctis, but ill-advised nonetheless. When Ignis didn’t respond right away, Gladio continued, “I’m not the person you want, but an old flame is a whole hell of a lot better than some stranger or sitting here the rest of the night so tense you'll burst a blood vessel.” He brushed his fingers against Ignis’s bare arm sending visible shivers up the chamberlain’s frame.

Ignis didn’t shy away, not immediately. Maybe Gladio was right. Ignis badly needed a distraction. Though he would have much preferred sparring. But he could not bear being awake and stewing in his anxiety, and he couldn't sleep at all. Even if he did fall asleep, he worried the nightmares would just be worse tonight.

Ignis's contemplative silence made Gladio more bold. He stepped behind the smaller man and spun him around. His large hands wrapped around Ignis’s slim hips and hoisted him up to perch on the railing. He took Ignis’s chin in his hand and without a second of hesitation, leaned in and stole a kiss. Ignis let him, but just could not bring himself to engage in return.

Gladio pushed his tongue between Ignis’s lips, claiming what Ignis had no real desire to give him again. Still Ignis didn’t stop it, his mind still weighing which option he would regret more. Gladio had always treated him well. They had a brief history. But that was over, and reigniting something in that moment was not something either of them should entertain.

Gladio’s hand slid under his thin, tight fitting tank top, molesting the warm skin above the hem of his pants. He broke the kiss, but stayed pressed close, holding onto Ignis’s lean thigh with a bruising grip.

“Come on Iggy, just like old times.” His fingers found the button of Ignis's pants and unhooked it. He pushed aside the thick denim fabric fabric to settle between Ignis's legs, the heel of his palm grinding against his still concealed dick. Ignis moaned.

"I don’t know. I feel this may be a mistake. We both agreed to end things between us." Ignis said, his voice low. His body reacted regardless, growing warm under Gladio's attention.

"What’s one more drunken fling? Let’s fuck it out and forget it all in the morning.” Gladio nipped at his neck and lowered his voice to a deep growl before Ignis could protest. “You still like it rough?" Gladio whispered the question into Ignis’s ear, making him shudder. He didn’t need to answer, Gladio already knew. The hand on Ignis’s back slid up his spine, pushing the hem of his shirt up, exposing his skin to the pleasant night air. Slowly, Gladio pulled the fabric up and over Ignis’s head and stripped it away. He discarded the fabric carelessly at their feet. Gladio's lips met Ignis’s naked shoulder, kissing the bruises and cuts across his skin, still ugly and dark against his pale chest. Ignis gripped Gladio’s forearm as the hand groped his slowly building erection ceaselessly. He’d finally resolved himself to put an end to the affair. However, between his precarious position on the railing and being blocked in by Gladio, he could not squirm away without risking a late night swim.

"Gladio, please wait. We can’t…" Ignis said with shaky breath. Gladio didn't ease up at all. His hands merely worked harder to force their way under his clothes. His hand pushed below Ignis’s underwear and wrapped his fingers around Ignis’s partially aroused dick. Alarm bells screamed in Ignis's mind. Even drunk, Gladio was always respectful of Ignis's boundaries. That he didn't so much as slow down was far outside of his normal character. "Stop this. Please."

"You need to relax." Gladio replied as he leaned in to capture Ignis’s lips again, trying to silence his protests. Ignis turned his head away and dug his fingers into Gladio’s arm as he tried again to push it away. Gladio growled before he finally retracted his hand from Ignis’s pants and pulled off the railing. Ignis was all but tossed him across the room toward the single bed. Unable to catch himself in time, Ignis impacted the floor several feet away. His head whipped around to glare at his ill mannered companion.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Ignis hissed. The Shield was advancing on him with an unreadable expression on his face. Ignis crawled back a few feet, hackles raised. He had known Gladio for most of his life, and the expression, the way he held himself, was unfamiliar to him now. Ignis's stomach dropped. Gladio knelt down and pressed a large hand to the middle of Ignis’s chest, pinning him to the floor. He swung a leg over the top of Ignis’s hips and straddled him, pinning his hips under his weight as well. Ignis’s lips were claimed once again as Gladio took his jaw in a bruising grip.

Ignis’s fighting instincts finally kicked in. He grabbed Gladio’s hips, planted his feet, and bucked up with all the power he had. Gladio yelped as he was knocked forward, giving Ignis enough space to pull his knees up between himself and the other man. He jammed his shins against Gladio’s thighs. Rolling himself into a sit position, he shoved his legs out, removing Gladio’s weight entirely. He pulled a leg back again and kicked out with as much power as he could, catching Gladio collar bone with a sickening crack. Gladio fell back as Ignis scrambled to his feet.

Ignis pulled his spelldaggers from the Armiger. He was positive now, this could not be Gladio. He couldn’t begin to guess who or what it was, but the thing in his presence now was not a friend.

"Calm down," Gladio demanded as he stood, not even acknowledging the shattered bone in his collar. "The more you resist the worse it will be for you."

"Who are you?" Ignis retreated a step, Gladio advanced two. Black miasma poured from the torn skin over his broken bone, stitching it back together. Ignis threw one of the daggers with all his might, but the instant the dagger left his hand, it was gone, leaving only the glittering blue magic behind. His connection to the Armiger had been severed.

"I really do wish you would stop struggling. I wanted to make this somewhat pleasant for you, but you've really given me no choice."

"What are you—" Ignis was stopped short. Pain ricocheted through him. True pain. Not merely the faint ghost of it that had haunted him since waking in those ruins. It radiated from the base of his skull, rocketed down his spine and paralyzed his limbs. Ignis crumpled.

Notes:

It took me some time to decide if this was the direction I really wanted to take at this point, so I apologize for a longer delay than I intended. I began to write an alternate path, but ended up scraping the idea because I just kept coming back to this particular draft. Unfortunately for Iggy, this was the far less pleasant approach.

Chapter 10: Wings of Despair

Summary:

Ignis learns the truth, but pays a high cost in exchange.

Content warning:
Graphic descriptions of assault and rape by both human and daemon.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ten: Wings of Despair

Ignis's surroundings shifted before his eyes, disintegrating away like ash in the wind. The ground under his prone form was no longer the pristinely lacquered wood of his Galdin Quay hotel room. He laid upon a cold, cracked tile floor, a layer of dust coating the surface from disuse. The warm night air was now stagnant and burned through his lungs with frost. Not even his clothes remained as they were. His mind swam, disoriented with the sudden shift in reality. Despite the disorientation, he recognized his surroundings well enough amid the dim glow. He knew exactly what this was; the Ancient Solheim architecture he had been seeing in his dreams. His reality had shifted cruelly into his nightmares, but he knew with every fiber of his soul that he had not lost consciousness.

The pain in his head receded and the Mindflayer retracted its grip on him. Heavy black boots approached, adorned with ostentatious silver filigree. These were not something Gladio had in his possession. Ignis tensed. The man stopped just before him, nudging Ignis’s cheek with the tip of his shoe before he bent down and took a handful of hair in his fist to yank Ignis upright. Ignis groaned with the pain of it, but his arms remained frustratingly limp at his sides.

Bright amber eyes and a crooked smirk greeted him. "I'm hurt that you'd reject my gift so viciously." He recognized the man and his drawling accent instantly. Ignis’s instincts had been correct, his attacker truly had not been a friend.

"Chancellor?!" Ignis hissed, his voice straining against the paralysis that consumed the rest of him. "W-what have you done? What is this?"

Ardyn's gaze swept across his captive's face slowly, examining it as if he was looking for something specific. "I suppose you could call it a scientific experiment. An as of yet fruitless endeavor at this point, it seems." Ardyn watched the panic rise in Ignis's eyes, enraptured. Ignis was struggling to recoup and pull at the Crystal's magic, twitch a finger, to do anything except lay there prone and exposed. His body simply would not obey.

The man had given Noctis’s retinue plenty of reason to distrust him, to be wary in his presence, but this— this was another level entirely. To that point, the chancellor had not so much as lifted a finger against them. So what sort of cruel machinations did the Empire have planned? How was this man standing so calmly in the same room with a violent daemon and nobody, as of yet, was dead. It was like a pet, waiting obediently for a command. What, exactly, was this man capable of?

"What have you done to Gladio?! If he has come to harm, I swear you will pay the price."

"You pitiful creature." Ardyn sighed. He lifted a finger to trace along Ignis's jaw, "Your friends were never here. You're all alone. Well, alone with me, anyhow.” The man caressed Ignis’s cheek in a gross display of mock affection, “I worked so hard to give you your own personal dream paradise, but here you are doing your best to ruin it for yourself. Once you stop fighting, you could have anything your heart desires, your precious Noct included. All you have to do is sleep."

Such a casually delivered sentence had Ignis reeling and a dreadful thought invaded his mind. Which world was truly the dream? The Nightmare or Paradise? He had no reason to take anybody from Niffelheim at their word, least of all the Emperor’s mouthpiece. But the fact that Ignis doubted, the way that thought stuck in his mind— it was that shoe he had been waiting to drop. The last puzzle piece falling into place. All the little things that had been needling at him for the last two days were all explained in that one sentence; The chill he could not escape despite the beautiful tropical days, the wound on his calf that he could see but barely feel, the darkness consuming the back of his mind every time he closed his eyes, and the unease that haunted his every step. And more painfully he realized the truth of each amazing coincidence and act of selflessness and charity they had received. Cindy, Cid, Sania, even Coctura had all given them more than Ignis could have ever asked for. And then there was the thing that truly tore at Ignis’s heart, part overwhelming sorrow, part relief to consider that the dances he shared with Noct may have been nothing more than a fantasy. The blush on his cheeks, the breath across his lips, Noctis in his arms and so close to everything Ignis wanted, all a product of his delusional mind. And in that moment, Ignis stopped wondering. He knew what the truth was. This dark room had never been a nightmare.

He had never made it out of the ruins that awful night.

Still, the revelation took his breath away. Ignis gasped, choking on the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. His thoughts turned immediately to Noctis, who had been so weak and was now no longer in his sight. The Empire had their hands on Noctis and Ignis was powerless to protect him.

"Oh, you've put it together already? My, my, you are an impressive one."

"Noct…" Ignis gritted out, "...return him at once." Ardyn raised an eyebrow and laughed.

"Bold of you to make demands in your position. Here you are, in mortal danger, and you're still chasing after that whelp. Your loyalty to him is going to get you killed one day, my boy."

"You planned this, all of this. The Regalia, the daemon hordes…"

"Don't give me too much credit, now. Two of your little retinue got away, but you still played your part perfectly."

Ignis growled as Ardyn stood. The hand fell away from Ignis's hair, but the grip on it remained, replaced by a cool, slick limb. Tentacles reached out, flicking against Ignis's back, tentatively exploring, tasting, before the thick appendages began to wrap around his shoulders. They pulled his arms into a bruising grip behind his back and pressed his legs roughly into the floor. Ardyn, seemingly satisfied with the hold Ignis was trapped in, patted his captive’s head like an animal.

"Now, back to the business at hand. Be a good boy and cooperate, or I am afraid this will be very uncomfortable for you." The Chancellor unfastened his pants, and began moving the fabric to the side in an apparent bid to expose himself to the man kneeling at his feet. "I am sure you know how to use that sharp tongue of yours for more than just scathing words. Why don't you show me?"

Ardyn’s intentions were loud and clear. Ignis recoiled violently. His body finally responded and he jerked against the Mindflayer's hold. The daemon just wrapped its tentacles tighter him, undisturbed. Ignis pulled desperately at Noctis's armiger once more. This time, a magic flask materialized in his hand.

Ignis was not excessively well versed in all aspects of daemonology, but he had a good deal of practical experience in fighting the beasts. They had hunted mindflayers before, and he was well aware of what hurt them most; Daggers, Spears, and electricity. However, Ignis had no leverage to wield a weapon with his hands bound as they were. The blastcast flask he now held was a final desperate attempt to free himself. The energy crackling in his palm was wild, unpredictable, and undeniably powerful. Even holding the flask made his fingers numb. With any luck, this would fry everybody in the room, but he should still be able to survive it.

But it was going to hurt.

The fragile orb began to crack under the pressure of Ignis's grip. He took a final deep breath. Lightning shredded the metal in his palm, turning it into nothing but shrapnel that tore into his flesh. The air exploded in light and heat with a deafening peal of thunder. Lightning rebounded off the walls, engulfing the entire room in the magical explosion.

The pain was indescribable. Ignis's body convulsed as electricity shot through him. Any vitality Ignis may have had left was ripped away. He hoped the screaming was Ardyn’s, but he feared it may have been his own. The pain ebbed, his limbs became numb, all thought ceased.

And then it was over. Ignis slumped. Without the anchoring grip of the daemon, his exhausted muscles could no longer hold their weight and he collapsed once again to his side. In the aftermath of the chaos, the room was dead silent save for his own ragged breathing. His body was both numb and overstimulated with his overwhelmed nerves sending mixed signals to his brain.

He'd known that the last flasks in their inventory were ones that Ignis had begged Noctis to leave untested. Terrifyingly powerful to the point where it would undoubtedly leave the user near death themselves. Ignis could now confirm that to be exactly the case, but if it worked in his dire situation, it seemed well worth the cost.

And then Ardyn was laughing. Ignis opened his eyes slowly, dread pooling inside him like blood. Ardyn could not be human to have survived that blast.

"That was quite the gamble." Ardyn's voice was muffled by the sound of blood rushing in Ignis's ears. How had that spell failed? "I'm sad to say it was completely useless, however." Ardyn approached, brushing bits of charred fabric from his clothes. Ardyn knelt down and once again threaded his fingers into Ignis's hair. He pulled Ignis's limp form up to his knees and forced his head around to look at the Mindflayer that had previously held him prisoner. Not only was it still upright, it was seemingly totally unperturbed. Ignis scanned the creature and watched the remnants of electricity arc between the wicked suckers, and then fade harmlessly. There was no damage to its pale flesh.

Ardyn whispered into Ignis's ear, amusement obvious in his tone, "I am almost impressed. That was quite the blast. If it brings you any comfort, that would have taken down a lesser beast. These daemons are not like their kin, however. As you see, unlike their less powerful kin, not only do they resist electricity, they absorb it. All you did was excite it. But you can be forgiven for your ignorance this once." Ardyn turned his head back so he could look Ignis in the face, “It looks like you’re done fighting though, hm? I could knock you out with a feather.”

Ignis could feel the Mindflayer looming behind again. Tentacles slid over his shoulders, holding him in place with a thick limb that curled around his neck, barely leaving room for Ignis to wheeze a breath. From the corner of his eye he watched the daemon’s hand begin to glow with an eerie magenta magic as it hovered over the back of his head and pushed its will on the captive man. The sharp pain at the base of his skull returned and a foreign influence wormed its way into Ignis’s mind. Bodily autonomy was stripped away from him and placed in the hands of the daemon instead. He was barely more than a puppet on a string.

“You’ve got a strong mind. It's both a blessing and a curse here. The path forward will be more of a struggle, but in the end, you will be a beautiful specimen. My best work. It could have been quite good for you if you could just accept the reality our friend here is trying to create for you. But now, you’re stuck in this reality with me until I’m done with you. And I do not intend to go easy. If I cannot pacify you, I must break you instead.'' The man released his belt with his free hand and yanked the fly down, exposing his already firm length between them. “Now, open your mouth or I will break your pretty jaw.”

Ignis felt the will of the Mindflayer grab hold immediately at Ardyn's command. Like an obedient dog, his jaw relaxed and his mouth fell open. The initial slide of Ardyn's thick cock into his mouth was slow, forcing Ignis to taste each inch of his firm erection. He'd been getting off on watching Ignis struggle.The Imperial Chancellor took his sweet time, testing how far he could press into Ignis's throat before tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. He couldn't breathe.

"That’s a good boy. It’s almost a pity that you have such wonderful control over that gag reflex. Though I do find you prim and proper types are the ones who most enjoy a little rough treatment. Shall we find out if you are the exception?" The man finally pulled back out of Ignis's mouth, allowing a single desperate gasp of breath. Ardyn gripped Ignis's hair with one hand and his jaw with another. He slammed his cock back into Ignis's mouth with such a force that he was nearly ripped out of the daemon’s grip. His vision blacked out momentarily. Another violent thrust drove the air from his lungs. With another thrust, his throat already felt raw. Another thrust. Ardyn fucked his mouth ruthlessly, allowing barely a breath before choking it off again, obviously getting off on asphyxiating his victim. There was a sharp, bitter taste of precum on the back of Ignis's tongue as Ardyn began drawing close to his climax with each violent thrust.

"Noctis truly does not know what he's missing." Ardyn let out a deep moan and rocked himself into Ignis's mouth several more times, slowly now, as he used the constricting of Ignis's throat to edge himself as close to climax as he could. “You don’t look like you’re having as good of a time. Would a friendly face help?” Ignis was entirely incapable of replying. He wasn’t even sure if he’d heard the question right in the first place, he was too busy trying to focus on not choking to death. He was sure the only thing keeping him from blacking out was the will of the daemon influencing his mind.

"Look at me, Iggy." Noctis's voice said from above. Ignis's mind immediately rebelled, it thrashed against the dark tendrils that had clawed their way into his head, holding his limbs and his will hostage.

The mindflayer forced him to raise his gaze, aided by the hand jerking his head back. He hadn't had enough time to steel himself. Despite his tear-blurred vision, he could still see the delicate curves of Noctis's face above him, but there was a cruel cast to his expression. Horror, pain, devastation, fear… Ignis wasn't sure which had shown on his face first, but whatever it was that the monster had seen was enough to tip him over the edge. He was still using Noctis's voice as he moaned Ignis's name when he came into Ignis's throat. The hand in his hair tightened and pulled his head forward more, until the thick root of the man's cock had pressed against Ignis's lips, not giving Ignis a choice but to swallow the semen fed to him.

Finally it ended, Ardyn pulled out. Ignis retched, coughing up whatever he hadn't managed to choke down. The imposter patted Ignis on the head, using Noctis’s likeness to whisper humiliating praise as Ignis’s lungs and throat rebelled against the rough treatment.

“Your lips look so pretty wrapped around a cock, you know that Specs? You barely gagged at all! You must have a lot of experience taking a good face-fucking, right? Did Gladio do this to you regularly, or do you get on your knees for anybody who asks?” Ardyn was being purposefully cruel now, enjoying the way he could degrade Ignis further using his own master’s voice. The man tucked himself back into his clothes before giving Ignis’s cheek a condescending pat.

The magenta light faded, the foreign control over Ignis’s body vanished and he was cast carelessly to the side. He crumpled, bracing on his elbows and knees against a cold stone floor while he continued to retch and cough as his body tried in vain to purge the vile liquid. A thick black gunk expelled itself and dripped from his lips onto the floor beneath him.

Fingers pressed up against his chin, raising his head again from its bowed position. This time, by the mercy of the Astrals, he was not met with the face of the man he loved. Ardyn's thumb brushed over Ignis's chin, gathering the thick black cum he had coughed up and smeared it across his lips.

“There we go, was that so bad?” Ardyn cooed. Without the aid of the daemon, Ignis’s consciousness was threatening to slip. “Unfortunately, I cannot stay for another round. You see, I have another test subject I need to attend to. Fret not, I’ll be back. Maybe I will borrow his likeness again next time. You seem to have had some feelings about that.” The auburn haired monster stood, fixed his clothes, and turned to waltz away.

“Why?” Ignis managed to ask. His throat burned, the single syllable felt like a hot iron against his vocal cords. His voice was barely more than a wheezing rasp, but it got Ardyn’s attention. The man turned around again and squatted down in front of Ignis, invading his space again. Ignis recoiled.

“Why? Because I want to find out if starscourge can ruin the Astral’s chosen warriors. I want to watch the Lucian King’s loyal lap dog be bred by these mindflayers and transformed into one of them. I want to watch as you turn on your king so he can know true betrayal by those he loves. I want to see if I can infect the King of Light himself and watch the ensuing chaos as Bahamut’s Chosen becomes corrupted and useless to him. I would have you all suffer as I have.” Ardyn’s face was dark with veins of black ichor marking his skin as if to prove a point. The chancellor stood again and signaled to the Mindflayer with a wave of his hand as if to say ‘he’s all yours,’ before turning on his heel and disappearing into the a dark stairwell beyond his sight

The creature obeyed Ardyn’s command. It immediately wrapped its long lower limbs around Ignis and drew him into the writhing mass of its body. In one last desperate act, Ignis struck out, clawing at the daemon’s limbs. The beast didn’t even seem to notice. Its tendrils wrapped tightly around his wrist in turn. Ignis lashed out with his free hand, digging his fingers ineffectually into the tentacle restraining his other arm. The limb simply wove itself around his other wrist as well, locking both together above his head. Tentacles worked in tandem with surprising dexterity to manipulate his body. A tentacle slid down his chest, between fabric and skin. As it pushed downward, the buttons tore away and skittered across the floor. The dark fabric fell open, allowing tentacles to swarm over his bare abdomen. They moved from his neck to his chest where they began rubbing across his nipples curiously as they hardened in the cool subterranean air. Ignis gritted his teeth and thrashed weakly against his restraints. The arms inched lower, suckers tasting his skin as they scraped the line of his abs to the waistband of his pants. The leather of his belt stood no chance against the daemon’s strength, and was all but shredded when the daemon slid a single limb underneath and pulled. More tentacles followed, sliding beneath the fabric of his pants. Button and zipper alike gave way as well, and as the tentacles slid down the length of his thighs, the fabric of his pants and underwear was pulled along with them. The daemon had him half naked and vulnerable to the multitude of hungry tentacles exploring the newly exposed warm and tender skin.

A short, thick tentacle near the daemon’s waist uncurled and yanked Ignis’s head back while another forced itself into Ignis’s mouth, sliding easily between his abused lips. Another long tentacle wrapped around Ignis’s waist and groped toward his groin. Ignis jerked his legs, trying to knock the appendage away. More joined, however, encircling his thighs and pulling them apart and lifting him entirely off the floor, destroying any chance he had to struggle. A thin tentacle licked across his spine, following the arched line of it downward toward the shallow curve of his ass. Ignis gasped when the firm length of it slid between his cheeks and flicked against his hole, teasing, playing, threatening. Instinctively, Ignis’s muscles clenched and he thrashed again against the limbs holding him aloft, but ultimately it did nothing to deter the appendage.

The daemon was toying with him. Ignis was well aware of its sick intentions. Daemons procreated by infecting new hosts like a parasite. That’s what Chancellor Izunia intended for him; to be pumped full of Starscourge until it possessed him entirely, and for it to be as traumatizing as possible; a punishment for his earlier resistance. The thought terrified Ignis. He was powerless to stop it. The mindflayer seemed to be perfectly content in taking its time groping and playing with its new toy before breeding him.

The thin tentacle prodded more insistently against his clenched hole, and then forced its tapered tip inside. Entrance gained, it then thrust inside Ignis’s body all at once. Ignis cried against the thick tentacle in his mouth. It curled against his tongue in excitement, excreting a sickly sweet liquid that began to coat its length. It began to drill into his mouth in earnest, releasing more and more ichor down his throat at the apex of each thrust. Despite the cold, a heat began to spread across Ignis's chest like the burn of cheap liquor. Distantly, Ignis realized it was acting as an aphrodisiac. His limbs began to feel weak and shaky, his heart beat out of his chest and his skin tingled pleasantly where the suckers rubbed against him.

The tentacle violating him from behind drove more of itself into him. It curled and writhed against his inner walls, making Ignis twitch and moan every time it scraped across prostate. His agonized moans only spurred the tentacles on further. His body stood no chance against the onslaught of limbs moving around and inside of him. Slowly, the tentacle fucking him began to thicken, stretching and filling him more with each slide in out out of his body. It began to ejaculate that same warming fluid into him that he had been forced to swallow, lubricating his tight passage and allowing the tentacle to push its girth into him easier, faster.

Several more tendrils groped between Ignis’s legs, seeking the warmth of his skin. The thin ends of two more tentacles curled around his dick and constricted around it. They squirmed against him, stimulating his shaft until he grew painfully hard. The suckers rubbed against the head of his cock, smearing the precum beginning to build there from the assault on his prostate. Unwanted pleasure spread through Ignis’s pelvis.

A second tentacle began to prod at his already stretched hole and slowly began to slide in alongside the other. Ignis screamed against the appendage invading his throat. He felt he was already stretched to his limit, but it pressed in regardless. It drilled into his tight passage alongside the other appendage, heedless of Ignis’s pained grunts and jerks as it carved out yet more space inside of him. The tentacles curled and twisted inside him, sliding back and forth against each other. As one pulled out, the other thrust in, taking turns pounding at his prostate with every thrust. Ignis’s now fully stimulated cock freely leaked precum with each hit, making him sob and moan.

His body was reaching its limit. Ignis’s vision became static around the edges. His whole body shook with the building pleasure the mindflayer was forcing on him, dragging him kicking and screaming toward release. The pressure of an oncoming orgasm built in his gut, even as the two tentacles fucking him seemed to rearrange his organs, pushing further and further inside with every ruthless thrust. The mindflayer ejaculated into him again, filling his body with the thick, dark, sweet ichor. It leaked from the corner of his lips as he struggled to choke it down. It slid freely down his throat and settled heavy and warm in his stomach. He felt the warmth of its seed drip down the pale expanse of his inner thighs as his body failed to accommodate the amount pumped into his abused hole. Each thrust of the thick tentacles deposited more, continually replacing what was displaced by the rough fucking and writhing that churned his insides.

Ignis’s overstimulated body was thrown over the edge into orgasm. His back arched, hands clenched around the tentacles woven between his fingers. Wave after wave of scorching hot pleasure rocked through him. His body convulsed out of his control, and no matter how he felt he would slip into unconsciousness, the mindflayer would not allow it. It continued to fuck him through the pleasure, overwhelming every nerve in his body and setting him alight until it became pain once again.

A furious yell filled the chamber. Ignis, despite his pleasure-fogged mind, knew it had not come from him. His throat was not only occupied by the short, thick tentacle, but could only produce weak moans as the last dregs of his life were drained from him. His half-lidded eyes locked on a blurry, dark figure ahead of him. Had it not been for emotion in the voice, he would have assumed Ardyn had returned to enjoy the show.

There was a flash of light in the dark room and ghostly weapons circled the figure. One after another, the weapons were launched toward him. Ignis watched the dazzling, terrifying display of Noctis’s rage-fueled Royal Armiger from the view of an enemy target. Each ghostly armament ripped through tough, rubbery muscle. They nicked Ignis’s skin as they shot past, severed tentacles where they clung to him and then circled around for another pass. Briefly, Ignis wondered if Noctis knew he was there, or if this would kill him, and end his suffering then and there, save him from the shame of his defeat.

The mindflayer shrieked. Its hand stretched out toward the newcomer and began to glow with the magenta energy of its mind control magic. But just as Ignis began to feel the effects of the daemons’ magic, the creature’s hand fell from its body, torn away by one of Noctis’s swords. One by one, the remainder of the daemon’s tentacles were cut ruthlessly away until there was nothing left holding Ignis up. With one final cry, the mindflayer’s head was removed from its shoulders, and the body, along with its prisoner, collapsed.

The daemon’s corpse disintegrated immediately into tendrils of dark mist, leaving Ignis a pitiful wreck on the chamber floor. He remained conscious long enough to raise his eyes to meet the horrified expression on Noctis’s pale face before he finally, mercifully, slipped under.

Notes:

There it is. Sorry Ignis.
He'll get a little bit of comfort later... kinda.
Chapter 11 is already written, so I won't make you wait long for the next one.

Chapter 11: Poetry for the Poisoned

Summary:

Amidst the nightmare, a moment of peace can still be found.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Eleven: Poetry for the Poisoned

“Ignis!” Noctis cried as he rushed toward the prone body laying amid scorched ground and dissipating miasma. His knees scraped against the ground as he slid to a stop Ignis’s side. Noctis’s hands trembled as he reached out to pat Ignis’s face. He remained deathly still. Hissing curses into the empty room, Noctis pulled Ignis into his lap and gently shook him. Still, Ignis didn’t even twitch. Noctis put his fingers against Ignis’s neck, feeling around until the man’s pulse beat against his fingertips. It was rapid, but slowed by the second. His chest rose and fell with unsteady breath as Noctis watched. At least he was still alive. He had made it in time.

Noctis jammed a hand into his pocket and frantically pushed fabric out of the way until his fingers finally wrapped around a vial. It was a miracle he even had the potion. It had, very suspiciously, been waiting for him in the middle of the room he’d awoken in. Noctis wrestled it free from his pocket and his hand tightened immediately around the glass as he held it over Ignis. He felt the cap loosen and he stopped. Noctis looked at the vial. The Hi-Potion branding stared back mockingly. It wouldn't work, he realized in dismay. Ignis was well and truly unconscious. Potions simply did not work like that. Ignis needed to take it himself.

Anger and frustration boiled over. Noctis cocked his arm back. He wanted to smash the useless thing against the wall as if that would satiate his rage. But a moment passed, and Noctis wilted. He knew better than that. Letting his emotions overcome him wouldn’t do either of them any good. He dropped his arm, his grip fell lax around the fragile vial. He shoved it back into his pocket with an angry groan. “Shit, Specs. What do I do?” he muttered. He would never have been prepared for something like this. There was a distinct lack of training in the “tentacle rape” subject in the Crownsguard. He could suture a wound, set a broken limb, he could even transform regular drinks into healing potions. But this was beyond him entirely. All he could do was act and hope for the best.

A moment passed as Noctis tried to gather himself. He had a job to do now and there was no time to wallow. He needed to get himself and Ignis somewhere safe, somewhere far enough from danger that the crystal’s magic could heal them somewhat. And more importantly, he needed to get out of there before the Mindflayers returned, before Ardyn returned.

Ignis was hardly in a state to be moved easily. The daemon had done a number on the poor man. It would have been hard to see anybody in such a degraded state, much less someone so dear to Noctis. Degrading really wasn’t a strong enough word, either. He needed to clean him up, wipe the scourge away from his skin and redress him… preserve some of his dignity if at all possible.

Carefully, Noctis moved himself out from under Ignis’s head, and laid him down as gently as he could. He gripped the hem of his shirt where it looked the cleanest and summoned a blade to his hand and carefully cut away a block of fabric. Noctis leaned over top of Ignis and began to wipe away the streaks of black from his lax face.

Noctis hesitated as his work took him lower. The tentacles had left welts and bruises where they had cruelly gripped Ignis. Bright red marks marred his pale skin under a thin layer of filth left by the Mindflayer. Neck, wrists, hips… Noctis’s stomach turned. He bit his lip, averted his gaze as best he could and pressed on. It felt wrong to touch Ignis like that, even in the act of aid. It felt like a violation, and it was, in a way. Ignis did not particularly care for casual touch, he’d certainly not allow this. But Noctis couldn’t just leave it. Noctis whispered apologies into the silent room as he began to wipe the dark liquid away from the inside of Ignis’s thighs. He worked to gently remove what he could without any unnecessary touching or movement. There was simply a line that Noctis could not cross. He did the best he could regardless. He knew it was largely useless anyway. The damage was done. Even if he could wipe away all traces of plasmodia from Ignis’s skin, the horrible fact remained that they had made sure he was being infected from the inside out. There was no clearing away the Plasmodia he had taken internally. A rock of dread settled heavy in the pit of Noctis’s stomach.

Noctis tossed the soiled bit of his shirt away and began to tug Ignis’s clothing back into place. There were rips and tears and missing buttons, barely giving Ignis the sort of modesty he tended to keep. Again, it would have to be good enough. He hoped Ignis would understand.

Noctis gently settled Ignis onto his side and pillowed his head against a bent arm. Noctis had seen Ignis sleep in such a position before, on the couch in Noctis’s apartment after long evenings tutoring, or the times he would insist on sleeping on the floor in too-small motel rooms rather than forcing any of the others. But Ignis wasn’t sleeping now. He’d been out for a while— a worryingly long time, in fact. Noctis felt sick. Anger and guilt merged together into an indistinguishable black hole in his chest. Had severing the connection with the Mindflayer so suddenly done something irreversible?

Noctis glanced around the room as he stood and backed away from Ignis’s prone form. It was time to move, but he needed to make sure the way was clear before taking Ignis anywhere. There were eyes watching him from every dark corner, ambushes waiting down every hallway. He moved cautiously to the center of the room and craned his neck to peer down the darkened passageways.

This room had three exits, he noted. One stairwell led into the depths where he had come from, one supposedly leading up, and then a third offshoot. He limped toward the center of the room where he could get a line of sight down the two unknown hallways. It was dangerous to wander alone into the unknown, but it was worth the risk. Either he would find a room full of enemies, or he’d find a dead end. Maybe he’d even get lucky again and find another item lurking in some hidden corner. Hopefully something that could actually help, unlike the hi-potion he’d picked up on his way out of the previous floor.

To Noctis's relief- as well as disappointment- the hallway was short and led nowhere. Nothing but a Magitek core awaited him at the end, and the sight of it made his blood boil all over again. Useless relic of the Empire that had put them in this mess. Frustration finally boiled over. Noctis brought his foot down hard onto the mechanical heart, crushing it beneath his heel. He spun around and began stalking back toward the main chamber when his toe came into contact with another object. Glass skittered across the ground several feet before coming to a rest. Noctis squinted against the dim light. Recognition came slowly, but once it did, Noctis all but dove for the vial. Hope overcame his frustration. He snatched up the bottle and dashed back toward Ignis.

Noctis's knees slid against the rough tiles, biting into his skin. He clutched the Megalixer in his hand, praying to the Astrals that it would work. It was no phoenix feather, but it was the next strongest option, and the only thing with a chance of helping. He gripped the vial like his life depended on it and squeezed. The glass cracked between his fingers. Noctis watched as the contents drained from the vial and poured down his forearm. It dripped from his fist and landed ineffectually onto Ignis’s chest. The liquid seeped into the thin cloth and disappeared. Nothing happened. Noctis stared in disbelief. Not an ounce of magic was released from the item. He knew the item was not defective. He could feel his magic swirling inside until the moment he tried to use it. The white magic simply dissipated, leaving nothing but a useless energy drink behind. A gasp of despair crawled out of Noctis’s throat. A moment passed.

Finally, rage took control. Noctis stood and launched the cracked vial. It shattered against the wall into a spray of glass and liquid. He screamed into the emptiness of the room. His hands closed around the hilt of his sword as it materialized from the ether. He threw it with every ounce of strength he could muster, striking the shattered remains of the megalixer bottle. As soon as the sword returned to the armiger, another appeared in his hand. One after another, he pulled weapon after weapon from the armiger and launched them into the stone. Angry yells punctuated each clash of metal on stone until, finally exhausted, Noctis dropped back to his knees.

A long, silent moment passed. His breathing evened out, the anger subsided, and defeat wormed its way into the empty space left behind. Noctis slowly hauled himself back to his feet and moved back to Ignis's side. He pulled Ignis’s arm over his shoulder and carefully hoisted the dead weight onto his back. He hooked his arms under Ignis’s knees, letting the unconscious man slump against him. Without a second look, Noctis limped his way toward the ascending staircase.

 


 

The Astrals hated him. They had to. What other reason could there be for this constant onslaught of bad luck? Of course the next floor up was being guarded. This hellscape was not designed to make it easy to traverse. It was like a prison, more or less, designed to keep something in, not let it out. How the Chancellor managed to move around so freely was a frustrating mystery.

Noctis quietly stood near the top of the stairs, listening to the loud grunts of goblins coming from the chamber ahead. Three from the sounds of it. It could have been much worse, but he'd still have to weigh his options. Not that too many were open to him now. Not much mana remained at Noctis's disposal. Going in full blast now would leave him dangerously close to stasis should the next room hold similar obstacles. On top of that, goblins were exceedingly annoying. Quick, vicious, and horribly sticky-fingered, though not too powerful. Having three of them gang up on him would be a death sentence at this point, though.

Slowly, Noctis bent down and slid Ignis gently off his back. He arranged his advisor comfortably against the wall with another quiet apology and a promise to be swift. Noctis kept his body low as he approached the room. He pressed his back to the wall and peered into the chamber.

Two goblins. Better than he had feared. They were grouped somewhat close, an arm span and a half maybe. Close enough to double-team him in the worst case scenario. On top of that, they didn't seem to be expecting anything coming up from the depths, so they both had their backs turned. Unfortunately that left them staring dead ahead at the one single gated exit. There would be no sneaking around them or blazing through, and facing them head on was a death wish. Luckily, Noctis knew precisely what his next move needed to be. Training with Ignis and plenty of video games had prepared him for this moment. Silent, precise, and deadly. He could afford nothing else.

Ignis's dagger materialized in Noctis's hand. He moved out of cover and crept toward his first mark. As he neared, Noctis took a deep breath, prayed to the Astrals, and lunged.

He thrust the dagger upward, burying the steel neatly between skull and spine. He ripped the dagger to the side, severing muscle and tendon alike. The goblin's head flopped grotesquely to the side, held on by little more than a few strings of muscle. Noctis phased to the next target before the first had even hit the ground.

Noctis plunged the dagger into the second goblin's side and sliced outward. Its black viscera drenched the floor at their feet. Noctis stepped around to its front and jammed the dagger's tip into the space under the goblin's jaw and through the soft tissue inside its deformed skull.

The third goblin seemed to come out of nowhere. Sharp claws tore into Noctis’s shoulders as he was brought to the ground. A cry of pain erupted from his throat as he hit the floor. The goblin ripped at his back, drawing blood and splattering it across the stone. Noctis turned, throwing his elbow back to slam against the monster’s crouched form. The blow struck nothing but air while the creature danced away with a screeching laugh.

Noctis scrambled inelegantly to his feet. His shoulders burned, and the warm flush of fresh blood slid down his back. His arms felt weak and shaky, between the fresh cuts on his chest and the newly slashed muscle across his back, even moving his arms felt like fire eating him from the inside out. The damned daemon was across the room, reveling in whatever trinket he had pilfered before leaping away.

A growl rumbled in Noctis’s throat. This battle needed to end quickly. The armiger claimed the dagger in Noctis’s hand as he released his hold on it, reaching instead for another blade. The sword he pulled in its stead had to be the ace up his sleeve. Ragnarok glowed a menacing red in the dim light. All he had to do was not miss, not let his arm fail him now.

The blade almost seemed to hum to life as Noctis cocked his arm back. He felt the innate power of the sword mingle with his magic. The tension snapped. The sword flashed forward with power and speed that Noctis’s weakened arm would never achieve on its own. Red sparks chased Noctis’s ethereal form across the room. A burst of magic erupted from the Goblin’s body the second the blade rended its flesh. The black miasma of its discorporated form choked Noctis as he careened into the wall behind. He stumbled, braced himself against the wall, and then collapsed to his knees. His vision was nothing but static and his head swam.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, facing the wall. Long enough to know that he was alone, at least. The stasis slowly abated, and after another moment to simply gather himself and catch his breath, he pulled himself onto his feet.

The gate barring the way up disengaged, opening up the path to the next staircase. Noctis stared into the newly opened passageway. Whatever awaited them on the next floor could very well be the end. Their end. He didn’t have another fight in him. It’d be a pathetic death, and while he couldn’t care less about himself, he didn’t want that for Ignis. But in the end, he had no choice but to continue on. He turned on his heel, and walked slowly back to where he had left Ignis.

"Sorry about that, Specs." He whispered. Once again, Noctis kneeled in front of Ignis and hauled the limp form onto his back. Noctis hissed in pain as the weight pushed against his fresh wounds. This time, Ignis groaned. Noctis shot a look over his shoulder. Relief flooded through Noctis’s body. Even a pained groan was a welcome sign of life from the unresponsive man. "I've got you. Hang on."

Ignis was largely motionless as Noctis crossed the now empty room. He would huff small grunts when Noctis hiked him up further on his back to shift his grip, which Noctis took as an encouraging sign. While Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto had no direct link to the crystal and its ever-healing influence, being in close proximity to Noctis seemed to extend that grace by proxy. It wasn't much, but his magic smoothed the ragged edges of Ignis's pain, as well as his own. He could only hope it would keep him alive long enough to see daylight again.

Noctis could have cried as he crested the next set of stairs and was greeted by an unoccupied room with darkened runes etched into the ground. A long dead campfire sat near the middle of the room, surrounded by the remnants of previous inhabitants. Bedrolls, supply packs, trinkets all left sitting abandoned around the makeshift camp. Noctis made his way toward the circle of rocks that made up the fire pit. He carefully knelt down next to one of the bed rolls with Ignis still braced against his back. He swept some of the dust away and unclipped the cushion and blanket with his one free hand to spread them out. Gently, he let Ignis slide off his back and onto the bed roll. He arranged the other man comfortably and pulled the musty woolen blanket over top. It was still freezing cold on this floor, and he already felt Ignis’s skin begin to chill and his limbs shiver as his body tried to stave it off. There wasn't much wood on the campfire to burn, but Noctis did what he could. A small burst of fire elemancy was all it took to set the old, charred wood alight.

Noctis turned his attention to one of the backpacks and dragged it closer to the small fire. A Meldacio Hunters Guild patch adorned the front flap and a pair of dog tags hung from one of the straps. They were covered in a fine layer of dust, same as the bedrolls. Not an encouraging sign, to be sure. There was no way these hunters had made it out alive. He wondered absently if the healing items he had found in the previous rooms had been theirs. He dug around in his pocket to pull out the Hi-Potion he’d picked up. He examined the fluted glass vial, and watched the contents swirl about inside. He watched it react to his magic, entwining together to form the salve he so needed. His shoulder and back stung. Without Ignis to help clean the wounds, there was a good chance infection would set in if he didn’t do something about it. He shot a glance to Ignis, and then back to the vial in his hands. He heaved a sigh and popped the cap.

Nothing. Again, nothing happened. The magic he had just infused into the item burned away the second the liquid touched the cold stale air. With a sigh, Noctis placed the cap back onto the stale energy drink and shoved it into a small side pocket in the pack.

Noctis sat on the opposite side of the fire from where Ignis lay and hugged his knees to his chest. His body ached now that he was sitting still. The adrenaline began to fade, and his mind turned from survival to reflection. His reality felt skewed, twisted together with an alternate timeline where he was in Galdin Quay. He’d woken up in this place once before, but he'd written it off entirely as a dream. It wasn’t uncommon, after all, for him to have nightmares. Vivid ones at that. Now, though, it felt so much more real, just as much as the warm tropical night on the waterfront. The sting of his cuts was real enough, the blood drying on his torso, making his ragged shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin.

In Galdin Quay, Noctis had just gotten up from bed to seek Ignis out. They’d had a grave misunderstanding, and one that Noctis had finally resolved himself to fix. One way or another. Just as he’d reached the door, Prompto had spoken up, with an eerie “It’s time to wake up.” And just as Noctis turned to confront his friend, he was no longer standing in his hotel room. In an instant, reality had shifted, and he was greeted not by Prompto, but Chancellor Izunia and the strong tentacled arms of a Mindflayer. His cryptic threats still made Noctis’s skin crawl. He’d thought that maybe he had been drugged, hallucinating or something similar. His brain only caught up to reality the first time a dagger had sliced at his chest.

The torture hadn’t lasted long, and had been half-hearted at best. Noctis had come away with largely shallow cuts in various places across his body. His broken finger was likely the worst of it, really. Turns out flipping off a psychopath doesn’t always end well. However it still wasn’t nearly as damaging as the vile words that had dripped from Ardyn’s lips like a poison.

'Your beloved is upstairs in the arms of another, I am afraid.' He had cruelly joked. Taunting Noctis with Ignis's health had been just another form of torture. One that hurt far more than the blade that cut into his arms and chest. 'He has ingested so much daemon seed… How long before he transforms, do you think?' and 'Did you never get to take him to bed? Unless the King of Lucis enjoys tentacles, I would suggest you do it soon.’' There was more, of course. So much more that Noctis couldn’t even bear to dwell on. That man was demented. Noctis’s demands for answers were met only by obnoxious laughter. That is where Noctis had snapped. Amid the chaos of whipping blades, Ardyn had disappeared, but the daemon had been shredded with the fury of his rage-fueled limit.

Noctis looked up over the fire between him and his too-loyal retainer. Ignis was pale, dark bruises and angry red ligatures marred his skin where it was exposed. From here, Noctis couldn’t tell if there was any change, if any of those spots were the mottled black of Starscourge that he’d seen in history books or if it was just grime from their harrowing ordeals. But still, he didn't know the early signs of infection anyway, or if his connection to Noctis— and by extension the Crystal— was enough to spare him that horrible fate. Lunafreya, ever under the watchful eye of the Empire, would be his only hope then. The trip to Altissia was not a short one, and finding their way out of this place could take ages more. Ignis's chances looked grim if the starscourge took hold inside him.

 


Noctis had begun to doze despite himself, lulled by the warmth and comforting crackle of the fire and the exhaustion the armiger instilled in him. He’d become complacent when no daemons had shown up, Ardyn had not come to further assault them. Ignis hadn’t moved in some time, though Noctis had been keeping a wary eye on him. He’d simply have to wait until the Crystal’s magic did its thing. But now, Noctis needed a nap. Even in the midst of danger, he couldn’t help it. The Armiger truly drained his strength at an alarming rate. He settled his head on his crossed arms perched on his knees.

As consciousness faded, he felt a small prick at the side of his neck. He shifted, brushing away the feeling with his fingertips. Cold steel met his hand. Noctis jerked awake.

"I advise you to stay still." Ignis hissed behind him. The vitriol poisoning his voice sent shivers up Noctis's spine. It sounded strained, and nearly unrecognizable if not for his accent. The dagger at Noctis’s neck pinned him in place. Ignis would slice into him at the twitch of a finger, his frigid tone promised as much. "You dare to come before me imitating His Highness again…" the knife pressed closer. Noctis was afraid that even the rapid beat of his heart would drive the tip of the blade into his jugular. The shock held him still enough. If only his weary muscles could hold him stock still, Ignis might spare him any serious wounds. Acting rashly now would end in disaster for both of them.

"I-Ignis," Noctis began, his voice barely more than a whisper. He could feel Ignis’s hand twitch at the sound of his name. Ignis’s other hand came up and gripped Noctis by the back of neck, fully readying himself to slide the knife through Noctis’s thin neck at any provocation. It wasn’t fear for his own life that arose in Noctis. It was that fear that the Mindflayer had scrambled his mind as Noctis ripped it apart. Something in the other man had snapped entirely. And now, Noctis could only hope Ignis snapped out of it before he got a blade through his throat. "What are you doing? What's wrong?"

"Silence, beast." Ignis hissed back. The blade pressed in closer, finally piercing the delicate skin. A small spot of blood oozed out around the blade's tip and ran down into the collar of his shirt. Noctis’s breath hitched.

"Take a deep breath, alright? You’re just confused. I need you to get your bearings… and just… please put the knife down." Noctis's heart raced. He wasn't good at conflict resolution, that was Ignis's strong suit. He was much better at Gladio’s tactic of “Hit it until it stops”, but he really didn't want to fight Ignis. However, he couldn’t help but feel it would come to that if he said the wrong thing. Despite Ignis holding the power in that moment, Noctis could feel the way his hands shook with the exhaustion he was trying so hard to conceal. He could overpower Ignis easily right now. His mind flashed through a myriad of scenarios to subdue the other man. It’d take only a second. And yet Noctis sat as still as he could, allowing Ignis to shove a blade into his flesh because he’d rather die than hurt Ignis intentionally or otherwise.

"What have you done with Noctis, Chancellor?" Ignis’s words sent a shock through Noctis’s system.

"What the hell? C-chancellor?! No, no, no. I’m not Ardyn.” Panic, pure panic. Ignis was truly delusional. “Please just look at me. Let me turn around and we can work this out."

Noctis was suddenly shoved to the ground. Ignis knelt over top of him, bracketing him in place between his knees and then roughly turned Noctis onto his back. The blade returned immediately, pushing up under his chin. It pressed so tight to the skin that any movement made it burn where it cut into his skin. Despite the pain in his jaw, the rocks digging into his shoulder blades, and all of Ignis's rage directed right at him, Noctis didn't so much as flinch. He just gazed into Ignis’s bright green eyes and waited. Noctis trusted this man with his life, and that would not change. Not even now with the threat of death just a hair’s breadth away.

Noctis had never seen that level of anger on Ignis's face before, and certainly never directed at him. But just beyond that, Noctis saw his own fear reflected in Ignis's red rimmed eyes. Those beautiful green eyes were bright, clear, and focused. There was no hint of confusion, no outside influence or lingering status effects. But still he did not see Noctis for who he was. He only saw a threat, an enemy to put down.

A silent moment passed. Neither of them moved. Ignis's eyes swept over Noctis's features, and then finally their gazes met fully, and locked there. Ignis's hesitation was an increasingly good sign. If there was no doubt in Ignis’s mind, Noctis would already be dead. His eyes and his mind were at odds. A complicated emotion passed over Ignis’s face. His jaw loosened, his eyes softened. Noctis took his chance to strike. He needed to shatter Ignis’s resolve before it could harden again.

"It's alright, Iggy. You can put it away, I'm not going to hurt you." Cautiously, Noctis raised an open hand and gently closed his fingers around Ignis's white-knuckled fist. Several tense seconds passed between them. Something cracked at last and pieces of Ignis’s defense began to crumble. Noctis carefully reached his other hand up and brushed loose hair away from Ignis’s eyes. Slowly, Ignis's face softened and the fight drained from him. The dagger was pulled away from Noctis's neck and clattered to the floor before returning to the armiger. Ignis wilted.

"Noct… I—," Ignis stumbled weakly over his words, "--he said he would— Forgive me." His voice shook with barely contained emotion. Noctis breathed a sigh of relief.

"You’re alright. It’s okay now." Noctis sat up carefully with a hand gently grasping Ignis’s arm. Ignis quickly removed himself from Noctis’s space. He kept his eyes downcast as he shuffled away far enough to allow Noctis to rise to his knees. Noctis slowly closed the space between them and reached up to pull Ignis’s head onto his shoulder. The defeated man did not resist. He rested his forehead against Noctis's collar and shut his eyes with a weary sigh. “Talk to me, Iggy. What just happened?”

"I’m going mad. I thought this was a cruel trick by the Chancellor. He promised to return and torment me further with… you. I hoped that you had somehow escaped this place... Are you alright?" Ignis asked. Noctis huffed a small laugh. It was very much like Ignis to ask such a question when he himself was in such bad shape.

"Please don't worry about me right now. I need you to just… take it easy." Noctis held Ignis to him with a hand softly placed between his shoulders, massaging soothing circles into his neck. His other hand ran down Ignis's slumped shoulder and followed his arm down until he could take hold of his hand. "Are you… hurt… anywhere? I tried to use a megalixer but… it just… didn't work."

"Nothing life-threatening, I suspect. It would have been much worse had you not arrived when you did.” Ignis sighed and brought a hand up to cover his already concealed eyes. “How bad is it?"

"U-um… It was…" Noctis hesitated. How was he supposed to talk to Ignis about this? Was he supposed to be direct and clinical? Vague and delicate? Either way he couldn’t lie. "It was pretty bad. I cleaned up the best I could but…"

“Was I injured?" Ignis asked again as he raised his head to look at Noctis.

Noctis had to look away. He cast his eyes down to his hand that remained gripping his retainer's. "I- I don’t know. I didn’t see anything obvious but I just… couldn’t look. There was a lot and— I couldn't— it's all still— I'm sorry…" Noctis stumbled over his words. Ignis didn't seem to need more of an explanation.

"I see. Thank you for doing what you could. I apologize for putting you through that. It is truly more than I could have asked for. I—" Ignis gave a shaky sigh, "--I will need time to heal before I am able to… further assess.... I must bear with it a little longer, it seems."

Noctis's brow furrowed. The urge to reprimand his retainer welled up, but he managed to swallow it down again. Now was not the time to argue about how Ignis made even his own assault out to be an inconvenience to Noctis. Ignis obviously knew the implications of what Noctis hadn’t quite managed to say.

“H-heal? Are you in pain?!”

“Pain is too strong a word. An intense ache with the occasional jolt of something sharp, maybe. Nothing I can’t handle.”

"How are you so calm about this?" Noctis asked.

"I assure you, I am not. But as your advisor and member of the Crownsguard, I have had training in how to deal with… unpleasant scenarios. I cannot afford to allow emotion to dictate my actions while there is danger still at hand." Ignis replied. Something about the reply made Noctis shift uncomfortably in his spot. Noctis had heard of the sorts of intense training the Crownsguard had to go through to get an assignment. It wasn't something he'd had to think about too much, but he realized now that it may have been far more intense than he realized, at least for those closest to him and his father. It would explain why so many of them were so surly. He hoped the training was more studious and not hands-on. It's not that Noctis wanted Ignis to be in more obvious distress. He wouldn't have known how to handle that, but the disconnect between the severity of the problem and his seeming lack of emotion was worrying. Ignis was going to try to fight this issue alone, push it down and lock it away so as to not bother anybody else. Noctis was not about to let that happen. Ignis did not let Noctis bear his burdens alone, so neither would Noctis allow Ignis to fight through his alone.

"Alright, we'll talk about that bit of info when we get out of here. For now, we will rest up here. The Haven's magic isn't great, but hopefully it'll still deter daemons and you can begin healing. Then, we'll figure out how to get out of here." Noctis stood up and helped Ignis back to his feet. To the man's credit, Ignis's gait was as steady as ever. Looking as haggard as he did, and after everything he had endured, he still managed to hold on to his unfaltering elegance.

Noctis led him back to the bed roll he had spread out beside the fire, but Ignis stubbornly refused to lay back down despite Noctis's insistence. Instead, Ignis watched silently as Noctis walked across the room to grab an abandoned supply pack. On his way back, he kicked the second bed roll closer to Ignis who dutifully spread it out. Noctis plopped down at Ignis's side and unzipped the backpack.

Between them, they sorted through the first aid and food options. It was nothing to write home about, and much of it was more or less useless. The MRE was stale and flavorless compared to their normal menu options, but it was still a welcome meal. They shared a dual pack of painkillers and a single bottle of water.

After their lukewarm meal, Noctis quietly took the trash and let Ignis go about working on the next task on his mental list, which was tending to their wounds, evidently. He pulled up the cuff of his pant leg to reveal a rough looking slice on his calf. It had signs of magical healing, so Noctis guessed it likely happened in the initial accident, but it hadn’t healed well. He cleaned the wound with a small alcohol pad and wrapped it in a thin layer of gauze. Once he was satisfied that it was tended well enough, he turned his attention to Noctis.

“May I?” He asked, his hands already raised and prepared to get to work.

“I’m alright. I’d rather you rest.”

“I am resting.” Ignis replied simply. Noctis laughed and shook his head. He should have expected that sort or response. He wasn’t going to win if he tried to argue, so he nodded and let Ignis continue on his way. Ignis took Noctis’s chin in his fingers and tilted it back so he could get a look at the paper thin slice under his jaw before wiping the trace of blood away with the corner of an alcohol wipe. He turned Noctis’s head and dabbed at the small puncture wound Ignis had left on the side of his neck. Ignis locked eyes with him for a moment, and when he saw Noctis looking back, he mouthed a quiet ‘Sorry’ before letting go. Noctis shook his head in dismissal. There was no need to apologize.

Ignis leaned back and his eyes swept over Noctis’s front. He moved his attention to some of the cuts in Noctis’s shirt and frowned. They were fresh, and obviously made with a blade. Ignis looked at Noctis's face, a question in his eyes that he had no need to voice.

“Oh… It’s nothing. Just… Ardyn being an ass.” Noctis replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand. The not-so-subtle motion caught Ignis’s attention and he pulled Noctis’s hand into his lap. Those eagle eyes had zeroed in on Noctis’s deeply bruised middle finger. He pulled the glove off and turned Noctis’s hand over. The bruise extended half way down the back of his hand. Ignis sighed.

“What did he put you through?” Ignis asked. He reached for the small strips of medical tape and carefully wrapped his middle and ring fingers together. It would have to do for now in the absence of a good splint. Noctis remained silent until the task was done, using the time to try to decide what to tell the other man. “He was just taunting me." Noctis replied as he examined the bandaged fingers. He’d gotten lucky that it was his left hand. Granted, it was entirely his own fault it was broken. Maybe making crude gestures to an Imperial official was a bad idea. Looking at it now, he got the overwhelming feeling that he’d gotten off easy. His own trauma was all physical, and things that would heal easily, more or less. Ignis hadn’t been so lucky. "It was nothing like… what you dealt with."

"Please don’t downplay his deeds. It looks more like torture from my perspective." Ignis’s voice was dark, an anger brewing again in his chest. It was the first sign of emotion Ignis had shown since the second he’d dropped his dagger.

Ignis had Noctis carefully remove his shirt so he could get a better look at the cuts. Noctis obliged without complaint and pulled the fabric over his head, careful to not snag on any scabbed over cuts. Some were far deeper than others, but it was obvious that his unnatural healing had begun to do its job. Noctis had to admit he looked a little gruesome. With all they had been through, Noctis’s skin was an abstract painting of reds, purples, and yellows.

"Yeah, I guess that's not entirely wrong." Noctis finally replied. The physical attacks Noctis had taken from Ardyn and the mindflayer were things Noctis knew how to deal with. Considering that Ardyn had not been lying about what the daemon had done to Ignis, the taunting was by far more painful. Psychological damage was much harder to heal. "Most of his taunting was about you. I think he was just stalling until it was too late for me to…" Noctis trailed off and sighed, "I managed to summon the Armiger and kill the mindflayer but Ardyn disappeared. Coward. "

“You summoned the armiger twice in such quick succession? Are you sure you are feeling alright?” Ignis paused what he was doing to shoot a concerned look back.

"Yeah, I think so. Other than a headache and some brain fog.”

“The consequences could have been much worse. You need to be careful nevertheless.” Ignis replied quietly. His hands still shook, but his fingers were gentle and confident where they worked to strategically place gauze and tape over the wounds. Again, a comfortable silence washed over them. Ignis took his time, and Noctis quietly basked in the feeling of Ignis’s warm hands on his bare skin. Each touch brushed some tension from Noctis’s muscles. But with that came a deep-seeded sense of guilt. He felt a little useless, if he was being honest with himself. Here Ignis was tending Noctis’s wounds, and there was very little Noctis could do in return except cook a ready-made meal and try to keep their spirits up, which he was very much not good at. Maybe he could convince Ignis to let him help with those burns he had briefly seen, but there was no chance in Eos that Noctis would be asking Ignis to show any amount of skin right now. He couldn’t help but feel he needed to treat Ignis delicately even though he knew he would disapprove.

“This isn’t a nightmare, is it?” Noctis asked suddenly. It was more of a statement than a question. He knew the answer already. It was useless to hope, but he couldn’t help it. If not for his own petty reasons, then for that empty expression on Ignis’s face.

"No, it is not." Ignis said quietly. The disappointment in his voice was palpable. Noctis knew the feeling. He wondered what sort of illusion the mindflayers had given to Ignis and if the loss of it was felt as keenly as Noctis did.

“I was in some sort of alternate reality or… hyper realistic dream. It’s just really disorienting waking up from that into… this. I guess I just keep hoping…” Noctis trailed off.

“What did you dream of, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, we never ended up here, for one.” Noctis picked absently at his mud-crusted pants, “We met up with Gladio and Prom and went down to Galdin Quay.” Ignis stopped working, his brow furrowed. “There was some sort of festival. It’s about what you expect from a vacation down to Galdin, honestly. Beach, fishing, food…” Ignis was looking at him fully now with an intense discerning gaze scanning Noctis’s face, as if he didn’t quite trust what Noctis was saying.

“Strange…” Ignis whispered, mostly to himself.

“What’s up?” Noctis shifted uncomfortably under Ignis’s intense gaze. Had he said something wrong?

"Ardyn told me that it was supposed to be paradise. Something I — we, evidently— had no desire to leave. I assumed it was constructed entirely from my own consciousness. But if you had the same dream…”

“The same? Really?” Something in Noctis’s stomach dropped. If it was truly the same, then they wouldn’t be able to tango around that one shared problem for much longer. “Can Mindflayers do that? Link two people together like that?”

Ignis shook his head. Not in a way that he was denying the possibility, but as if he was genuinely considering the probability, but was at a loss for words.

“I do not know what is possible in regards to mind manipulation. Research into the workings of mindflayers is justifiably scarce. Some suggest they share a hive-mind. If they took control of our minds, then we would have been linked to the same hivemind, I suppose.”

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to Noctis. Through the whole scenario, Ignis was the only thing that truly felt real to him. The others felt like flat caricatures of themselves, doing or saying only what he wanted or expected them to. The mindflayers would only be able to construct a world using things Noctis and Ignis knew about. It would explain why Sania's apartment kind of reminded him of Ignis's apartment and his own flat jumbled together. It would be why Gladio and Prompto didn't seem to have any new cuts or bruises, and why a garage band from Duscae would have known familiar niche dance music from Insomnia and Tenebrae.

“So, we could have been together the whole time?” Noctis asked. He wasn’t sure if he liked that insinuation or not. If it had simply been his own dream, he could happily ignore it and continue on, but having someone else experience it as well made it feel far more real.

“Considering what kind of fool I made of myself, I certainly hope not.” A small smile broke through Ignis’s expression. If their theory was correct, then they both knew exactly what that meant. It all but confirmed it for Noctis, though. And with it came the complicated mess of emotions that he’d have to deal with regardless.

"For what it's worth, I don't think you did." Noctis replied. Ignis’s eyes flicked up momentarily before he quickly returned his gaze to his task. There was a small hint of red that rose on his otherwise somewhat pallid face.

Noctis watched Ignis work silently again for some time, letting the implications of their conversation hang between them. Ignis’s eyes were downturned, concentrating fully on the task at hand. His self-deprecating smile had turned again into a delicate frown. Noctis desperately missed Ignis’s smile in that moment. The way his eyes would squint and he’d try to hide it behind his fist. The cruel voice in the back of his head wondered if he’d ever see it again. His time could be running out to do something. Now, more than any other time in the past, his desire to throw caution to the wind overwhelmed all other thoughts. Noctis’s heart beat faster the longer he gazed at Ignis. Affection burned through his chest, spurred on by Ignis’s quiet fussing, and Noctis’s burning desire to comfort the other man, though he didn’t know how.

“Iggy…” Noctis said quietly, drawing the other man’s attention back to him, “.. before everything came crashing down, I wanted to come talk to you.” Noctis shifted where he was sitting. He didn’t really know what he wanted to say yet. He hadn’t quite gotten that far. The simplest sentiment would have to do. “I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Ignis’s brow furrowed as he finally began putting the first aid items away “Whatever for?”

“For caring for me even when I’m being a selfish brat. For being the first person around when I need help. For staying by my side even when I don't deserve it."

“It is where I belong and where I will remain for as long as you would have me.” Ignis replied without a second of hesitation. The sincerity of it took Noctis’s breath away.

“Ignis, I…” Noctis found his voice had gone soft and shaky. Ignis's hand came to rest atop his own. It was a reassuring and grounding gesture, and it made Noctis's heart pound against his ribcage. Ignis's reply had been far more impactful than he had anticipated. Noctis knew what he wanted to say, but his tongue felt numb and stupid. He wasn't sure if he could even form words if he tried. He wanted so badly to confess, but it would be so much easier to simply grab Ignis and kiss him senseless.

Noctis didn't fight the urge. He reached for Ignis, fingers grazing against his sharp jaw. Ignis didn't pull away. His gaze was locked with Noctis’s and was a hint of shock in his bright green eyes. Noctis slid his hand through Ignis's hair until it came to rest on the nape of his neck. Noctis leaned in and watched as Ignis's eyes slid closed. Their lips brushed. Just as Noctis pressed in to finally claim what he needed, a hand pushed firmly against his sternum. Noctis paused, hovering just a hair's breadth away from his goal, and then Ignis pulled away. Noctis's hand fell from Ignis's neck as he let the other man retreat.

“A-apologies. I can’t...” Ignis bowed his head.

“Why not?” Noctis wasn’t entirely able to keep the disappointment out of his tone. His heart crumpled in on itself, the pain of it radiating out from where Ignis’s hand pushed him away. It was a petulant way to ask. It wasn't as if he couldn't answer that question a thousand ways himself, but he needed to hear it from Ignis himself. Ignis’s jaw was clenched, his face drawn into a look of remorse.

“I can already feel it. I don’t know how it spreads… If it were to spread to you…”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Well I do!” Ignis’s reply came with a flash of exhausted frustration that made Noctis sit up a little straighter, “I have already put you in too much danger. I will not risk handing you a death sentence as well." Despite his outburst, Ignis wrapped his fingers around Noctis’s hand, holding on like his life depended on it. Noctis didn’t respond for some time. His head bowed, eyes downcast like a scolded child. He understood where Ignis was coming from, but it didn’t stop the pain that spread through him at the rejection. He felt the last bits of hope shatter like glass between them.

“When we get to Altissia, Luna will help. We can figure it out from there.” Noctis said.

“Noct…” Ignis sighed. It sounded like an admonishment. The tone alone said a lot about Ignis’s state of mind. He didn’t expect to get to Altissia. Noctis wouldn’t accept that possibility.

“No, Ignis. This isn’t the end. I’m not going to just roll over and give up, and neither are you. We’ll figure this out… we always do.”

There was no other option.

Notes:

I am -so- sorry for taking so long. I have had this chapter written since I posted the last one, but I kept going back to it and editing and revising and changing. I was just... not happy with it. I'm still not thrilled, but I need to post so I can stop touching it. Also Baldur's Gate crashed back into my life after 20-something years like the kool-aid man. I get lost in the sauce sometimes and have to pull myself back. This is one of those times (and the next chapter too, oof) and my voice may suffer from that a little bit. That being said, I apologize if something is disjointed somewhere, this isn't beta read and my eyes tend to glaze over after I have rewritten something too many times. Shooting for a wrap-up around chapter 15.

Chapter 12: Veritas

Summary:

The final piece of the puzzle falls into place. A decision must be made. Give in, or break.
Ardyn is done waiting. Ignis will submit, he will make sure of it.

 

__________

 

TW: Suicidal actions

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Twelve: Veritas

Sleep was elusive. The shadow of daemons ripped Ignis from unconsciousness each time he began to slip under. He had stopped trying hours ago. Every twitch of muscle hurt, as if he’d pushed himself far too hard in training. Worst of all, his body still tingled with whatever poison the Mindflayer had fed to him. The heat it had instilled in him had not faded, and yet his skin was chilled to the touch. Even after forcing himself to finish cleaning what Noctis could not, the feeling still clung to him. He was hyper aware of every sensation in his body and was consciously aware that a thrum was growing under his skin, crawling through his bones like angry ants. It amplified that lingering heat into a burning sensation just on the razor edge between mere discomfort and pain. It had been compounding hour by hour until he could hardly keep still, much less sleep.

Noctis slept on the mat next to him with a hand curled possessively around Ignis’s. He was wiped out, as he often was after using the Old King’s magic. Despite the cuts and bruises, he looked peaceful in his sleep, his body lax aside from the hand that occasionally tightened around Ignis’s fingers. Ignis had been watching him for a while now, trying to burn the memory of him into the deepest recesses of his mind. Rejecting him, pushing him away when everything Ignis wanted was a breath away had been one of the hardest things Ignis had ever had to do. His heart ached knowing his unrequited love was no longer unrequited. Noctis had initiated, Noctis wanted him, even when Ignis was at his lowest point. But he could not allow himself to play into Ardyn’s hand.

His mere presence was a legitimate danger to Noctis now. Every second he stayed, he became more and more a weapon for the enemy. He had to leave; get as far from his Prince as he could, and yet he could not leave him. He could only hope to help him escape and pray that Noctis would grant him a swift death in return.

Ignis gently pried his hand out of Noctis’s loose grip and rose to his feet. His discomfort had grown too strong. He needed to get up, to walk it off. The chamber was somewhat smaller than the one in which he had awoken. Pacing around it would not take him too far from Noctis’s side. That thought alone gave him some measure of peace. The room was quiet. The fire had died considerably, leaving only small licks of flame among the ashen wood. It was obvious that this Haven was weakening. Its fuel extinguished and its magic runes rendered nearly invisible even in what little light remained. Ignis moved toward the edge of the room, away from the camp's epicenter. The itch under his skin receded within the cover of the shadows. The connotation made him feel sick.

The Haven’s sigils were faint enough to be drowned out by the dim light of the fire. Only the deepest shadows revealed their glow. It made the monolith tucked into the far end of the chamber all the more conspicuous. The dark monolith stood out against the geometric hellscape surrounding them. It resembled the monuments to the Kings of Lucis scattered around Insomnia. It had to have been several hundred years old, when travel into Solheim ruins was less treacherous. On the smooth obsidian surface, a poem was etched in delicate silver.

The wisdom of mankind was by the warring gods laid low

Yet not unlike the seeds of flowers buried 'neath the snow

The secrets of the ancients lie in waiting underground

Hidden blossoms of lost knowledge longing to be found

Ignis hummed as he considered the words. Was that why Ardyn entered the ruins? To seek some ancient knowledge laid forgotten in the remains of an ancient civilization? Only a few days passed, Aranea had voiced her concerns about the Empire back in Steyliff Grove only a few days ago. The empire had begun looking for “specimens” for “demonic research” back in Gralea. Whatever that meant, Ignis could only guess. He wasn't privy to whatever it was they had taken with them, if anything.

If this was what Aranea meant, then Ignis could understand more fully why she was so keen on leaving. If she knew it had come to this, certainly she would have already taken her leave of them. Or perhaps it was not the Empire’s directive that Chancellor Izunia was following, but his own twisted interests. Whatever that interest was, it was hidden with the corpses of Solheim.

Ignis reached forward to brush the dirt away, as if seeing the words more clearly would bring clarity to their meaning as well. His fingers ran over the etched symbol that adorned the top of the dark plate. The second flesh met stone, Ignis’s mind blanked. A burning pain shot through his body like a lightning bolt.

Next thing Ignis knew, he was staring up at the ancient ceiling with pinpricks of pain radiating through his body. A pair of hands grasped his shoulders and tugged him upright. Ignis swiveled his head to look back at Noctis. There was panic in the young prince’s eyes. Ignis shook his head, but didn't dare speak lest his tongue make a fool of him. His gaze turned back to the Monolith. The runes were glowing much brighter, pulsing with more life than they previously had. Blue flame licked at the spot Ignis’s fingers had touched, burning away the impurity. “That’s the Oracle’s magic. The very same that protects the Havens… that keep the daemons at bay. I needn’t explain further…” Ignis flexed his fingers. The joints were stiff and protested the motion.

It was likely that this monolith was the only reason the Haven still held any power, why daemons didn’t bother infesting this floor in particular. If they caused that much pain in daemons, it was no wonder they kept their distance from the glowing blue outcrops.

Noctis stood and pulled Ignis to his feet again. They stayed silent for a time, watching the blue glow slowly fade once more. Slowly, Noctis stepped forward, his hand outstretched to touch the stone as well. He wanted to prove that maybe it wasn’t just Ignis, that it just didn’t want to be touched by anybody. Before his hand made contact, Ignis gently grabbed his wrist and pushed the outstretched hand back down to his side. “Let us leave it be, Highness.”

“Why? Aren’t you curious if it’ll happen again?”

“Indeed I am. However if it does, then you will have hurt yourself needlessly, and it is my prerogative to not allow that.”

“And if nothing happened?”

Ignis didn’t respond right away. He knew precisely what it meant if the oracle’s magic injured him and not Noctis. “Then we would have the answer to a question I do not wish to ask.”

Noctis looked at Ignis, his eyebrows raised slightly in incredulity. It was unlike Ignis to hold off on seeking knowledge. He slowly reached out for Ignis, taking his damaged hand into his own. The hand bore cuts and burns on nearly every inch, and his fingertips were red as if the stone had irritated them greatly. Gently, Noctis rolled his thumb over the tips of Ignis’s fingers, as if he could massage the pain away. Ignis watched silently. It wasn’t helping any, but to have Noctis tend to him was a balm in itself.

“Did he… tell you anything?” Noctis asked, “Why would he want to do this to you?” Noctis stopped stroking Ignis fingers to rub at the center of his palm, massaging away the tension Ignis held.

“Not enough to gain a full understanding, I’m afraid. I cannot begin to fathom his motives. I gleaned some information, however.” Ignis hesitated as Ardyn's scourge ravaged face flashed through his mind. He could hear the words perfectly. “Chancellor Izunia is certainly not what he appears. I cannot begin to guess his true nature, but he is not human. He suffered some sort of betrayal for which he seeks retribution. His ire is directed mostly at Bahamut rather than you it seems, however you are a means to hinder the Blademaster's design.”

“Why not just infect me, then?” Noctis moved his attention to Ignis’s wrist as he rubbed circles into Ignis’s pale inner wrist and forearms. The muscle protested and Ignis sucked in a hissing breath.

“I cannot say. There is every chance that the darkness cannot touch you like it can me. Seeing as I have a passable connection to your magic, it is possible he thinks of me as simply a bridge between the darkness and the Crystal's light. He implied that Gladio and Prompto were also targets, but fortunately…” Ignis groaned as Noctis’s thumbs dug into the stiff muscle, working out a knot he did not know was there, “As to why he has concocted such a convoluted plan… I assume it is purely for the theater. The man does so love his dramat—”

“Do you remember that daemon in the Vesperpool?” Noctis cut in. Ignis slowly raised his eyes from where Noctis’s thumbs worked over his palm and began to move on to his wrist. Ignis didn’t need more context to know exactly what Noctis spoke of. “And that one in Fociaugh Hollow? And Marilith?”

Ignis remembered vividly. They were three unique daemons that none of them would soon forget. The Naga in the cave calling out for its lost baby, speaking with some manner of sentience. The sound of its horrible cries still sent chills down their spines. They’d not met any daemon like her until their brief, and terrifying, encounter with Melusine. Another Daemon who spoke, waiting for her lost love and luring men into her deadly embrace. There was no doubt in Ignis’s mind that those two daemons had been humans once, but had succumbed to the starscourge with such grief that it lingered in their minds forevermore. And then there was Marilith. The daemon that changed Noctis’s life forever. That one held a grudge for over a decade. It had a will of its own, its own sense of justice and revenge. Each of them were sentient daemons. Powerful, intelligent, and holding into some powerful emotion that became their driving force.

“We do tend to catch the ire of serpent women…” Ignis said with a quiet laugh.

“Do you think… that’s what they want from you? To turn you into something like Marilith?”

“That is… likely, yes. A daemon with as much knowledge of your strengths and weaknesses as I have, and sentient enough to utilize that…” The last puzzle piece clicked into place. Ignis felt a sense of calm in the newfound clarity. The motive, the plan, they finally lined up. He understood what Ardyn meant by ‘struggling will only make this harder.’ He was trying to recreate that perfect storm in Ignis’s mind that produced sentient daemons in the past. His annoyance at Ignis’s rejection of the dream was beginning to make sense. To recreate correct circumstances in real life would be near impossible if they intended to keep Noctis alive. After all, the trauma needn’t be real to be effective. All he had to do was believe it, but Ignis had been too wary. And then he managed to destroy Ardyn’s plan by sabotaging his own happiness when he walked away from Noctis on the dance floor. Ignis’s heart ached knowing now that Noctis would have accepted his advances. Instead, Ignis turned his back on his chance and let a misunderstanding grow between them. Even ‘Gladio’ had attempted to get the situation back on track, but once again, Ignis shut down any attempt at clarification.

And yet, maybe it was a blessing. Had he not rejected the scenario that the Mindflayer gave to him, the happiness surely would not have lasted. Tragedy waited for him at the end of that dream. Something terrible enough that the constraints of reality were too tight, the scenario too unlikely. But now his punishment for ruining the experiment was this; for Ardyn to make his reality so miserable that he would beg for whatever release the Mindflayers offered, for however long he was allowed to have it. What horror could the dream conjure that outdid his time in this Gods forsaken ruin.

“Ah, you seem to have worked something out. Good. It’s much more entertaining when you can properly understand the horror of your situation.” Noctis said. His voice was low and gravelly. His hands tightened painfully around Ignis’s arm. There was no time to process the words before Ignis's arm was wrenched behind his back and Noctis slammed him against the monolith. All the air fled Ignis’s lungs on impact.

Ignis thrashed against the stone, but Noctis was indomitable and as immovable as the very stone against his chest. The burning sensation through his body was immediate and nearly blinded him with the pain. He wanted to yell out, but his lungs would not draw breath. Fingers closed around his face, blocking off his nose and mouth as his lungs strained for air. Ignis clawed at any bit of Noctis he could reach with his free hand, but to no avail. Noctis’s groin dug into Ignis’s backside as he pressed in closer and forced more of Ignis’s burning body against the daemon-repelling wards. Ignis’s pained writhing served only to stimulate the other man. The lewd moan in his ear was something Ignis could only hope to hear in the filthiest of dreams. The voice and visage of Noctis were as familiar to him as his own, but the malice radiating off of him was not.

The specter of his previous violation began to consume Ignis. Panic washed away any other thought. His heart beat valiantly against his compressed ribs. His lungs burned hotter than the monument against his body. They screamed for the air that Noctis’s hand around his face denied him.

“Ssh-ssh, it’s alright. Just let it happen, my boy.” The voice was all wrong in Ignis’s oxygen starved mind. No, of course it wasn't Noctis. It was just another trick to get close, to break down the trust Ignis had and throw his sense of reality off kilter. Only a depraved man like Ardyn would find physical pleasure in the pain and terror of others. “You know, I could simply turn you right now. It would be easy. And then your body would be mine, like a fine puppet on strings. I would consume everything you are until the only thing left of you is me.” There was a dark chuckle in his ear, halfway between Noctis's beautiful melodic laugh, and the Chancellor's unsettling drawl. “But that is so tiring, and much less entertaining. Wouldn't you agree?”

The entire front of Ignis’s body felt like it was on fire, burning everywhere that he made contact with the monolith. Ignis writhed against the stone trying to push himself away as Ardyn held him there. The man hummed in pleasure and pushed his hips just a little harder against Ignis. The pain grew by the second. Ignis clenched his jaw and willed himself to swallow the cry that built in the back of his throat. He would not give Ardyn that satisfaction. The panic was rising quickly. The harder he struggled, the more his lungs screamed for air. He had reached a critical stage. His limbs were growing weak.

“If you just submit now, we can skip the unpleasantness. You know what I want.” Ardyn's true voice was low and suggestive, and incredibly difficult to hear over the blood pumping in his veins.

Ignis fought Ardyn's grip until there was no strength left in his limbs. His vision faded into a magenta haze, whatever vile words Ardyn was still speaking into his ear turned into nothing but background noise, indistinguishable from the loud thud of his heart.

Like a rubber band snap, Ignis woke. He took a deep, gasping breath, but the pain was gone. The only thing pressing against his back was the cold floor instead of Ardyn's disguised body. The violating touch was nothing but a ghost of a sensation. He was alone, laying near the base of the Monolith. Only the deep sense of unease remained alongside burning in his fingertips. He slowly sat up and looked around the dark room. Nothing was amiss. Everything is as it was supposed to be. The fire was dim, barely burning, its meager light just enough to illuminate the sleeping form of Noctis next to it. Or rather, it was supposed to be Noctis. He had thought the same just before Ardyn began tormenting him again. But he had also nearly put a dagger through Noctis's throat assuming it was Ardyn. He could not simply trust his assumptions any longer.

Slowly, Ignis rose to his feet. His steps were silent as he approached the camp again. He just needed to look into Noctis’s eyes again, then he would know. Surely he would know. He knelt at Noctis’s side and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Ignis called his name with a small shake, and Noctis stirred. His eyes slowly opened and locked immediately onto Ignis’s gaze. Startled Stormy blue eyes met his own, and Ignis knew that Noctis was staring back at him. Not Ardyn. He sighed and let his hand fall away. But as Noctis shed the sleep from his consciousness, fear built behind his eyes.

“Iggy…” Noctis muttered. He slowly sat up from the bed roll as if trying to not startle the man leaning over him. “Ignis… oh fuck.” Noctis was pushing back from Ignis, scrambling with his hands to get back far enough to get his feet under him. Ignis found himself too stunned to speak. The reaction had caught him entirely off guard.

“What’s the matter?” His voice felt wrong in his own ears. The sound of it made Noctis recoil further. The fear and panic in Noctis’s face began to grow once again inside of Ignis as well. Ignis stepped forward, and Noctis stepped back, a hand outstretched in front of him for protection.

“You were fine! How…? I’m so sorry Ignis. Fuck. FUCK!” There was anguish in Noctis’s tone. Ice cold realization overcame Ignis. His limbs felt numb with the shock of it. Noctis was looking at some bastardized version of his advisor, sick and twisted with scourge. Ignis watched the tears begin to flow from Noctis’s beautiful eyes. He instinctively moved forward, ready to attend to his prince. A flash of light and the sharp tip of a sword stopped him in his tracks. “Please, please stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Ignis’s heart stopped. He cast his gaze down and held a blackened hand before him. The darkness squirmed under his skin like a living creature, molding Ignis's body to its will. Had the illness truly progressed so fast in such a short amount of time? Had the monument done something to him? Had Ardyn? No. This was a trick. It had to be. Ardyn was toying with him again.

“No, this isn’t real.” Ignis hissed. An irrational anger overcame all reason and he cast his gaze back to the man in front of him. If it was Ardyn, he was keeping up the act well. But it was fake, all of it. That fear, the pain, the tears, just a show to manipulate him, and Ignis knew it. Whatever Ardyn was playing at, he would not fall for this time. It was time to end the charade.

The Armiger no longer heeded Ignis's call, however. Once again, he was shut off from it. Noctis's magic was no longer his to wield. This was exactly why Ignis trained in many forms of fighting. He needed no dagger to achieve his ends. Ignis dodged around the sword held to his chest and swung a kick at Noctis's flank. It connected with an unpleasant crack. Noctis cried out as he stumbled sideways.

“Ignis stop, please!” Noctis said with a half-choked sob. He phased through one of Ignis’s reckless attacks, and then another, but he would not strike. Ignis yelled in frustration as his attacks failed to land. But Noctis's stasis was drawing near. He couldn't keep dodging much longer.

“I will not fall for your tricks any longer. We end this now!” Ignis said with a hiss. Noctis's Dodge faltered, and before he could duck away again, Ignis raked his blackened, clawed hand over Noctis’s face. Bright red blood spilled onto the ground and coated Ignis’s fingers. It was warm against his cold skin. Noctis staggered back, clutching at the scratch marks adorning the side of his face. He had flinched last second, managing to avoid the worst of it.

“Please, Ignis…just stop. I don't want to kill you. What am I supposed to do without you?” Noctis's pleas fell of deaf ears. Ignis had made up his mind. He darted forward, ready to wrap his hands around the imposter's throat and strangle the life out of him. Noctis disappeared in a flash of sparks.

Ignis felt Noctis’s sword rend his skin and slide between his vertebrae as the hilt came to rest against his sternum. Ignis watched blood and tears drip from Noctis’s pale chin. Pain erupted in his chest, his lungs failed, destroyed by the sharp metal embedded in them. Ignis stumbled back, and the blade slid free of his body. The blade clattered to the floor when Noctis’s arms wrapped around him, bearing him gently to the floor as blackened blood pooled around them. The blood, the tears, the anguish in Noctis’s cries as he bowed his head over Ignis’s dying form, they all felt so real. For a moment, Ignis's regret was real as well.

This was the only way it could truly end, and in Ignis’s final moments, he knew that. He didn’t have time to make his peace before he awoke once more at the base of the Monolith once again.

Ignis stared into the darkness above him. He didn’t move for several agonizing moments until he finally built up the nerve to bring his hand in front of his face. There was nothing. Nothing aside from cuts and bruises and burns, but it was all red and pink flesh as it was meant to be. Just another hallucination of his added mind. Ignis sighed in relief before slowly sitting up. His hands were shaking as he pushed himself off the ground. He felt off balance and displaced. Something had plucked that fear from his head and forced Ignis to play it out. As quickly as the thought had come, it dropped away, wiped clean from his consciousness.

Ignis clenched his jaw. He cast his eyes around the room and immediately went on high alert. Their camp was empty. Noctis was nowhere in sight. He began acting on instinct alone.

Ignis rushed toward the middle of the room and drew his daggers. Ash was scattered across the ground and scuff marks littered the area. The bed rolls were crumpled and tossed to the side, and their precious few provisions had been ground to dust. But there was no blood. Something had taken Noctis alive. Ignis’s heart raced with adrenaline. Nothing else in the world mattered except finding Noctis.

He took the stairs up two at a time, his daggers clenched so tight in his grip that his knuckles creaked. He was ready for the fight of his life if it came down to it. He could handle Ardyn messing with himself, but he would not tolerate any harm to Noctis.

As Ignis crested the threshold to the upper floor, he stopped dead in his tracks. In the dim light, the mindflayer looked like little more than a mass of writhing tentacles as it bent low over its prey. For a moment, Ignis saw himself in the monster’s grasp and felt the tentacles spear him open and rearrange his insides. He remembered looking up and seeing Noctis standing across the room, fear and rage in his face. Now their roles were reversed.

Noctis was limp in the creature’s grasp as its thick tentacles ripped at his clothes, vying for a taste of his skin and a warm place to spill its corruption. A tentacle retracted from Noctis’s throat, allowing his head to lull forward. The black ichor dripped from his lips, and no gasp of breath followed. His eyes were open, but there was not so much as a twitch of his finger in response.

“Noct!” Ignis yelled into the chamber. The daemon raised its head and turned. One by one, the tentacles released their hold on Noctis’s body. It dropped him like a rag doll onto the hard floor, discarded like food scraps before a second course. Sagefire erupted from Ignis’s daggers. All logic burned away in the ignition, leaving only hatred in its wake. A destructive rage consumed him. Ignis rushed forward and drove his burning daggers into the creature’s hide. Its blood boiled and combusted, sending a powerful shockwave of magic through the room. Ignis let the heat pass through him, uncaring if he got burned in the process. He wasn’t done.

His daggers struck flesh one after another. He screamed his hatred into each thrust. He bore the creature to the ground as the relentless assault continued. Mindless rage drove him, and he poured that hatred into every stab of his knives. He only stopped when he felt the blade snap against the hard floor. Nothing but gore laid before him, unrecognizable as anything but blackened viscera. The miasma clung to him as the bits of mindflayer splattered across him began to dissolve.

Ignis staggered to his feet, letting his daggers fall from his blood soaked hands with a deafening clatter. He turned to look at the body of Noctis a few feet away, still laying where the mindflayer had deposited him. As Ignis began to move toward him, it felt as if he was miles away. Noctis wasn’t moving. There was no gentle rise and fall in his chest. An eternity passed before Ignis collapsed to his knees at Noctis’s side.

“This isn’t real,” Ignis whispered to himself as he pulled Noctis into his arms. The Prince’s breath was little more than a hiss, if it could be called breath at all.

“This isn’t real,” he repeated as he looked at the emptiness behind Noctis’s storm gray eyes. The mindflayer had scrambled his mind. The body was still alive, but Noctis was gone.

“This isn’t real,” he hissed as he curled over Noctis’s body before he was blinded by tears and painful sobs wracked his body. He had arrived too late. His singular purpose was gone. The line of Kings had ended. Hours passed, days, years, lifetimes, and his despair only grew.

Ignis's daggers were still nearby, having been abandoned by the Armiger when it ceased to exist. Ignis unfolded one arm from around Noctis's long-dead body. His fingers wrapped around the hilt. The steel felt warm and inviting in his hand despite the endless cold. He turned the blade over in his hand, and felt it bite into his flesh. With no fear or hesitation, Ignis drove the dagger into his chest.

Ignis laid at the foot of the monolith, staring blankly into the void yawning before him. He had no desire to move. His sense of reality had slipped. One after another, his fears played out before his eyes, dragging his body and mind along as an unwilling participant. If that was the case, he had an idea of what came next. There was no point in sitting up or rolling over just to face more trauma. Ignis closed his eyes, and just waited for the hallucinations to stop. But they didn't.

He felt a pang of desperate hope when a rescue party found them. Gladio and Prompto had enlisted the help of Cor, Aranea, and a host of Hunters from Meldacio. That hope was stamped out before Ignis could step foot in the Cleign sunlight again. His flesh turned to black mist as the light fell upon him. He could not leave, the Hunters would not let him. He slaughtered most of them in his rage, but it was Cor who ended up casting the daemon back into the depths of Costlemark. Ignis could only watch as the Marshall sealed the doors, locking Ignis in eternal darkness. And in that darkness he wandered until the Starscourge claimed him.

S̷̡͔̟͛̒̎̿̕ṷ̶̡̳͙̬̳̠͉͛͆̏̌͘b̵̨̛̜̳̱̳͋̀̾̇̇́̕m̸̧͙̰̝͎̬̅͂̅̎̄̾̕͝i̴͖̻̤̫͖̽͆̔̏t̵̰̺͈̘̻̀̆̀͐͘̚͘

Ignis opened his eyes to find his own cold hands wrapped around Noctis’s throat, watching the light die in his eyes.

S̷̢̙͚̰̠͊̈ǔ̷̹̝̜b̶͔́̊͐̈̚m̷̞̰̆̈̕͝i̷͙͑̌̽͒t̶̛̬̱̍̊͝

He closed his eyes and felt the hot blood dripping from his fingers as his friends cried out his name in fear.

S̵͍͈̈́ǔ̸͇̝ḇ̶͓͑m̶̈́͜͝ȋ̵̜̈́t̵̹͗̾

Each blink came a new reality more depraved and horrifying than the last. Every fear that had ever run through his mind in this place played out before him in gruesome detail. Ignis killed his companions countless times, and had been ruthlessly torn apart by them in turn. Again and again, the visions assaulted his fraying psyche. Violence and violation, burning cities and a night that never ended. Agony inflicted that only began to compound with every shift. He had dirtied his blades countless times with his own blood trying to make the nightmares end. He knew none of it was real, but that was little comfort when he could not make it stop. An eternity of torment stretched out before Ignis before his mind finally fractured.

“You know what you have to do,” Ardyn’s voice was almost soothing in his ear. “Just two little words and there will be no more pain, no more horror. What do you say?”

Ignis knew his answer, even as two choices laid before him. Take Ardyn’s offer and become a daemon, potentially conscious of who he was long enough to lead Noctis to safety and eventually die by his hand, or allow the torture to continue until Ardyn tired of him. He would surely lose his mind entirely and leave Noctis trapped in this hell with a madman who could no longer distinguish delusion from reality.

Ignis opened his eyes. The monolith no longer towered above him. He was yards away, where the oracle's magic was too dim to feel. Ardyn stood over him, that coy smile on his face. The magenta light emanating from the mindflayer faded, handing Ignis control of his body and mind once more.

“Let us end this.” Ignis could feel the tears run from the corners of his eyes. He didn’t dare move lest the deranged man perceived it as an attack. Ignis's fingers itched to tear into the other man, to rip him limb from limb. He couldn't trust his own body. Did it even belong to him? Would it move if he asked it to? He was too exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. There was no point in fighting it any longer.

“There’s a good boy.” Ardyn knelt down over Ignis’s prone form and gathered a fistfull of his collar in one large hand. He yanked Ignis up, pulling him close enough that Ignis could feel Ardyn’s breath on his cheek. “Tell me you submit to me, Ignis. Make me believe it.”

Ignis dropped his head to the side, casting one last look at the peacefully sleeping form of Noctis by the fire, right where he had left him what felt like eons ago.

“What happens to Noctis?” Ignis asked, though there would be little he could do if he disliked Ardyn's answer.

“Why, I let him go. I'll even do him the favor of letting him forget this whole ordeal. As little as you may believe it, I need the little prince alive and healthy. Granted, he may never recover from the tragic loss of his beloved tactician. Succumbed to his wounds, you see, after valiantly carrying the Prince to safety after a horrific car crash.”

Ignis sat with Ardyn’s words. What choice was truly left to him now? Technically, Ardyn has never gone back on his word. Even in his depraved, perverted threats, he had followed through thus far.

“Swear to me.” Ignis demanded. Ardyn laughed.

“I swear on every soul in my bloodline, the Prince will leave here alive.”

Ignis's throat was dry and his tongue too heavy behind his teeth. His hands clenched at his side. He never took his eyes off of Noctis as he began to speak. His voice was quiet, tainted by shame. “I submit. Do with me as you will.”

Notes:

So... It's Feb 7th. Which means Iggy's Birthday.

 

Uh... Happy Birthday, and I am sorry.

BUT in repentance, I am uploading two chapters. I can't ONLY torture Ignis on his birthday. The man deserves a treat after the shit I have put him through. But honestly, this chapter was rewritten 5 times. I'm not even joking. Even now, I am on the fence on how I feel about it. It gets the idea across, but, I may come back and refine later. We'll see.

Chapter 13: Static

Summary:

Things will be different this time. Ignis has no choice, his fate is no longer in his hands. But maybe this time he will get what he really wants.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Thirteen: Static

When had he blacked out?

Ignis's head was spinning. It was as if he was emerging from a trance. His body felt warm, his heart raced, and alcohol sent a pleasant buzz through his mind. Familiar music and joyful chatter filled his ears.

As Ignis's eyesight finally settled again, his entire field of vision was filled with Noctis. Black lashes veiled dark blue eyes. No space existed between them while Ignis held Noctis against him, one hand wrapped around his back while the other all but caressed his upper thigh. Noctis's lips were so close to his own. Their gazes were half lidded, their breath heavy with exertion. Ignis swallowed the air between them greedily. Just one more inch, and he could claim the Prince as his own. All he ever wanted was right there in his arms.

And yet, Ignis pulled away. He stumbled back a few steps, shattering the tension between himself and Noctis. His surroundings suddenly came into stark focus. A crowd with their eyes trained on them, lively music, alcohol, and a crowded dance floor. Ignis had nearly forgotten where he was, he had been so enthralled with Noctis. The wine had done a number on him, evidently.

A dazed confusion met him in Noctis's eyes. His cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink, flushed with embarrassment. Ignis's fingers still seemed to tingle with the feeling of Noctis's skin under his hand and the heat of another body against Ignis's own. His whole being was alight with it. He needed air. He needed to get away from that look on Noctis's face before he lost his mind. The urge to run was overwhelming, like a child who knew that had done something wrong. But to turn his back on Noctis felt like the exact wrong move.

He could play it off as if nothing of note had happened. It was simply a performance, and one they had done before, albeit privately and considerably more chaste. But something kept Ignis rooted to the spot, unwilling to let the moment slip through his fingers. If ever he was willing to bare his heart to Noctis, now was the time. He would not get another chance, of that he was positive.

"I…” Ignis began. The air was thick in his lungs, his chest was in a vice, making it difficult to breathe. “I think we should talk. Privately, if you will." Ignis said. His soft voice barely carried over the music. The look of panic that spread over Noctis's face was proof enough that he had heard regardless. He realized immediately that it was absolutely the wrong way to word the request to Noctis. The sentence 'we need to talk' rarely began or ended with anything pleasant, especially when Ignis was involved. This instance was likely no exception. "I need some air. I'll be outside… should you wish to follow."

Noctis did not follow when he turned to leave, however. Ignis wove through the crowd and pushed onto the boardwalk. The noise of the evening's event faded into the background as he walked. Couples dotted the walkway, spread out enough for the pretense of privacy. They huddled close in hushed conversation, or held one another as they basked in the romantic evening atmosphere.

By the time Ignis reached the beach, it was just a pleasant din of merrymaking in the distance. He continued to walk, mindlessly allowing his legs to take him where they would. The night air was a balm on his overheated body, and the soft sounds of the shoreline was a welcome change from the rambunctious crowds. He continued to walk along the shore, allowing the water to lap at his heels. When he finally stopped, he found himself right back at the beginning of the boardwalk, having simply walked in a circle. He was loath to wander too far, lest he miss a dark figure walking his way. But, the area was largely empty.

Ignis sighed and pushed his fingers through his sweat-damp hair as he leaned his elbows on the railing. He still felt disoriented. On top of his uncharacteristic lapse of judgment, his mind felt hazy and sluggish and body ached like he had just trained with the Glaives. His stomach was in knots and a pit of dread was tearing his chest open. He hadn't ever known alcohol to affect him so adversely. Maybe he could chock it up to nerves, knowing he was about to do something he couldn't take back. But it wasn't. The anxiety of baring his heart to Noctis was a different thing altogether. He felt displaced, but any time he tried to pinpoint the cause, his mind would immediately veer off course to think about Noctis instead.

Ignis sat with himself for some time watching the trevally dart in and out of the submerged lamp's glow. However long he stood there leaning against the railing hardly mattered in the end. It was just nice to be alone for a time, with nobody needing his attention and no pressing tasks that needed doing. Even if his mind swirled with doubt, anxiety and an unknowable shadow, at least he had a moment alone to feel it without distraction.

Until he wasn't.

"Hey." Noctis said softly as he came up beside Ignis. Ignis had been too caught up in his own mind that he had missed Noctis entirely.

"You came." The surprise didn’t entirely show in Ignis’s voice, and for that he was grateful.

"Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to screw my head back onto my shoulders. Then it took me a bit to get through the madhouse." Noctis replied with a chuckle. The sound of it instantly pushed Ignis's worries to the wayside.

"You aren't at all perturbed, then?"

"Not really, no. Should I be?" Noctis leaned against his forearms the railing, mirroring Ignis’s posture.

"You would be well within your right to be. What I did was unprofessional and inappropriate."

"We." Noctis corrected. Ignis shot him a questioning look. "What we did was enjoy ourselves. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't have gone along with it."

"That's good to hear. I feared I had pushed too far."

"Is that… what you wanted to confess?"

“No,” Ignis sighed. His moment of truth had arrived. Ignis swallowed down the lump in his throat and let his head hang as he began to spell out his doom. "We have been inseparable for much of our lives. My purpose was to be a thorn in your side, and you've always made that point quite clear. Through the years, our relationship has evolved in ways that nobody outside of the Royal family has ever had to experience. I have invaded so many other aspects of your life, and for me to even toe the line into something more…" Ignis paused with a sigh, "Well, that is not for me to decide. However, I wish for you to understand that in whatever way you will have me, whether that be as your adviser, a friend… or otherwise, I have been, and always will be yours." Ignis's voice dropped out from under him. It wasn't exactly how he had meant to say it. There was still too much ambiguity. It was the ‘or otherwise' that Ignis yearned to voice. But with the threat of a considerable fallout looming in the wings, his words had failed him.

A silence stretched out before them. Ignis wouldn't have called it a comfortable silence, but it wasn't tense. It simply…was. The two men both sat with their own thoughts. After some time, Noctis patted the weather-worn wood under his hand and pushed himself away from the railing. Ignis looked up, expecting to see Noctis walking away. Instead, the Prince had squared up with him with his arms crossed loosely across his chest. He was eyeing Ignis with a sense of determination that Ignis had not seen in quite some time.

“It's too bright here. Do you mind taking a bit of a walk?” There was a light in Noctis's eyes that held Ignis like a spell.

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.” Ignis replied, slightly quicker than he intended. There was plenty that Ignis would have rather done, but in the current circumstances, a walk was acceptable. At least Noctis wanted him to come along, so he was obviously not too upset with Ignis's somewhat aborted confession.

Noctis led them down the beach, making companionable but pointless small talk. How nice the view was, the temperature, praising Coctura's cooking, what Prompto wanted to do the next day, and anything aside from the subject looming over them.

Lachyrte Haven was, thankfully, unoccupied. Tucked away near the cliff side at the far end of the beach, it offered plenty of privacy as well as stunning views of the bay. The lights that reflected on the calm, clear water were put to shame only by the endless cosmos above.

Noctis sat at the edge of the rocky outcrop, letting his legs dangle over the side. He motioned for Ignis to join him. Ignis brushed a bit of the dirt and sand away before lowering himself onto the ground at Noctis's side. Noctis leaned back on his elbows and watched the stars blazing above. They did this frequently, simply sitting near each other to count the constellations. In childhood, Ignis would wheel Noctis out on the veranda when he couldn't sleep and they would watch the moon and stars move across the vast sky above Insomnia until Noctis had all but forgotten the nightmare that woke him in the first place.

"You know…” Noctis said at last, “there's not a single person in the world that knows me as well as you do. And for a long time, I thought that was true the other way around, too. But… It turns out that I wasn't actually paying attention. I was so caught up on my own denial and expectations that I got careless in what I thought I knew. Maybe if I had even tried to pull my head out of my ass, you'd never have felt like you were in my life against my will. I feel like such an asshole for making you doubt yourself."

"Nonsense. There is no need for such talk."

"Gladio and Prompto yelled at me before I came out here. I guess I was the only one who didn't see it. But I do now." Noctis sat up and turned to face Ignis fully. His hands came up to grab at Ignis's lapels. He pulled Ignis in as he closed the remaining distance between them. Ignis's eyes went instantly to Noctis's gently parted lips. The world stopped. Ignis's thoughts turned to static. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs.

“Can we kiss now?” Noctis asked. Ignis could hardly breathe, but he heard the breathy ‘yes’ that fell from his lips before Noctis bridged the rest of the gap. It was light at first, just a whisper of a touch ready to retreat at the first sign of trouble. When Ignis didn’t flinch away, Noctis grew more bold. His lips were suddenly firmly slotted against Ignis's own, claiming and aggressive. It wasn't the timid kiss Ignis had usually fantasized of. This was better. Ignis was reeling when Noctis finally pulled away. It took a few extra seconds for his mind to catch up.

He scanned Noctis's face. It was lovely in the dim evening light, illuminated by the calming blue glow of the Haven's runes with the warm light from the Mother of Pearl casting a halo of yellow light around his edges. His eyes were determined and bright as they tried to read Ignis in return. After a second, his expression shifted. Mortification set in. Whatever he had seen on Ignis's face was not what he had been hoping for. Ignis couldn't even guess what emotion he may have been expressing. Shock, probably. His brain was still lagging behind.

Noctis’s fingers detangled from Ignis's collar and he began to retreat as Ignis finally came back to himself. He leaned in to close the distance Noctis had managed to gain. His shaking hand wrapped around the back of Noctis’s neck and he drew his Prince to him once again.

Noctis's lips tasted of the wine Ignis had been drinking. His liquid courage, as it were. They both needed it that night. The line had finally been crossed, and neither wanted to take a step back. Self-control was becoming harder to come by as Noctis leaned further into Ignis’s space. Noctis slung a leg over Ignis's lap to straddle him in a bid to push further, get closer, and claim more. His hands twisted into Ignis's shirt, ensuring that he could not retreat or pull away before Noctis was done with him. Ignis hoped that would be a long way off yet.

Ignis' breathing had picked up by the time Noctis finally stopped planting drawn out kisses against his tingling lips. He yearned for so much more, fantasizing about pushing Noctis down and teaching him how exactly to make Ignis's knees weak. But he didn't, not yet. He wanted to take only as much as Noctis wishes to give. No more, no less.

“Can I ask you something?” Noctis said, his voice quiet in the scant space between them.

“Anything.” Ignis replied as he wrapped his arms around Noctis's back, holding the Prince steady as he leaned back enough to get a good look at Ignis's flushed face.

“Why me? You're smart and good at everything you touch. I may be the crown prince, but I don't think anybody is looking at me when you're by my side. You are so gods damned attractive, you could have anybody. So why choose this oblivious brat?”

“I could spend a lifetime answering that question.” Ignis said. It was a question Ignis had spent countless hours asking himself. Denying, analyzing, accepting. In the end, he had never come up with a good reason to tell himself. He was just meant to love Noctis, and he did, with everything he had.

“Humor me.”

“I needn't have a reason. The heart will do as it pleases, and mine has belonged to you since before I could put a name to it. You are my safe haven amid the chaos of the world. You give me purpose. You make me want to be a better man.”

“Impossible.” Noctis chuckled and rested his forehead against Ignis's. “You can't improve on perfection, Iggy.”

“Well, you know how I enjoy a challenge.” Ignis tilted his head and captured Noctis’ lips again. He kissed Noctis like a man starved, but it was Noctis who took it further. He parted Ignis's willing lips. Their tongues met, tentatively at first as Noctis tested how far Ignis would let him go. Ignis was malleable under Noctis’s touch, just a puppet on the strings of Noctis’s whims. Ignis had no intent on resisting anything Noctis was willing to give him. But, it was certainly not the most elegant kiss Ignis had ever participated in. Noctis’ inexperience was blatant, but it was clear he'd picked up some amount of practice along the road. Ignis had his suspicions of where. Despite Noctis’ somewhat over eager tongue and hardly giving them space to breathe, Ignis was still willing to consider it the best kiss he had ever experienced.

Slowly, Ignis began to take the lead. He tempered himself in order to guide Noctis into something slower, more sensual and less frantic. Just like their dance, they fell into step perfectly, playing off each other’s movements. Coming together and breaking apart, only to meet again without so much as a hair's breadth between them. Ignis's slender hand caressed Noctis’s thigh, he brushed his fingertips down the length of his arm, and the warmth of his palm rarely left Noctis’s waist for even a moment.

Pure seduction, just as promised on the dance floor.

Hands began to wander. Noctis’s palms pressed against Ignis’s chest, groping the muscle as he slid his hands up to Ignis’s shoulders. He had a vice grip on Ignis’s bicep with one hand while the other slid behind his neck and his fingers threaded into Ignis’s short hair. Ignis had to break them apart for a breath lest he pass out.

Noctis's lips were kiss-flushed and glossy. The sight alone kicked Ignis's libido into overdrive. He leaned back in, eager to get his lips on Noctis's skin at long last. He kissed Noctis's jaw, under his ear, and followed the muscle down his neck until he could nip at a defined collar bone. Noctis tilted his head, allowing Ignis to worship his pale neck. The pulse against Ignis’s lips was frantic, the skin heated. Ignis claimed it greedily with tongue and teeth.

The moan that Noctis gifted him with took Ignis by surprise. His enjoyment of this treatment was evident on Noctis’ face and the twitch of his hips.

“Is this too much?” Ignis whispered into Noctis' ear, his voice heavy with growing arousal.

“Oh hell no.” Noctis groaned. He shifted in Ignis's lap, drawing their bodies even closer. Ignis could feel the bulge between Noctis' legs as it ground firmly against his abdomen. His own growing erection was seated firmly between Noctis's thighs, nudged suggestively against his ass. Noctis rolled his hips, sending a spark of white hot pleasure up Ignis’s spine. Ignis’s groan was stifled by Noctis's mouth as he leaned in for another aggressive kiss. He nipped at Ignis's lower lip and rolled his hips again. It wasn’t long before Noctis was all but frotting against Ignis’s tight abdomen. They panted their growing pleasure against the other’s gently parted lips. Heavy breathing was broken only by increasingly inelegant kisses. A pleasant buzz of pleasure found its home in the base of Ignis’s skull, shooting down his spine and pooling low in his gut as hot as the Infernian’s hellfire. Noctis’s movements were becoming overwhelming as his grinding stimulated Ignis’s aching erection where it was confined by his tight fitting pants. He would not be able to take much more of Noctis’s teasing.

Ignis seized Noctis’s hips and forced him to sit back, putting some space between the problem growing between his legs and its very attractive source.

“We… should stop.” Ignis managed to choke out. Noctis groaned in protest, but didn’t try to fight Ignis’s grip.

“Why?” Noctis asked as he leaned forward to get another taste of Ignis’s lips.

“Because we are still intoxicated. I would rather enjoy my time with you while my mind is clear.”

“What, you afraid this is the alcohol talking?”

“You’ll have to forgive me. I would not have you regret anything when the wine wears off.”

“I don’t think I will, Iggy.”

“I do hope so, but let us not risk it.”

“Fine. We’re short on clean clothes anyway,” Noctis sighed and gave Ignis a fond look. He cupped Ignis’s jaw and gave him a gentle kiss. After pulling away again, he reached down with a sly grin and palmed his own crotch, “I’ll take care of this tonight, but I really want you to take care of it tomorrow. Deal?”

“That is an acceptable compromise.”

The remainder of the night had Ignis in a daze. He accompanied Noctis back to the Mother of Pearl at a leisurely pace, both of them needing some time for their bodies to cool off. Ignis threaded his fingers between Noctis’s, clutching his hand as if letting go would have Noctis scattering into the wind like so many sylleblossom petals.

The main floor of the bungalow had cleared out slightly as the night grew long. They found Gladio and Prompto sitting at the bar, chatting with the bartender as they paid off their tab for the night. Gladio’s eyes locked on immediately to their clasped hands and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise comment. Prompto, for his part, looked far too excited. Noctis quickly released Ignis’s hand as he flushed with embarrassment.

“I think I will retire for the evening.” Ignis said, finding himself unable to stand the curious looks of his companions. By the looks on their faces, they certainly knew something had happened. Ignis would have to suffer a lecture by Gladio later. It would be nothing Ignis had not already told himself, and nothing he hadn't discussed with Gladio before, but he still had no desire to ruin his evening. That was a problem for the future.

“What, not going to take the Princess with you?” Gladio laughed. Ignis gave him a withering look. Noctis, as usual, ignored the jab and took a seat next to Prompto who immediately leaned in to whisper something that Ignis could not distinguish over the music. The flush that rose on Noctis’s cheeks made Ignis’s skin tingle.

“Please mind your volume when you stumble back to the room, Gladio.” Ignis said with a wave of his hand. He gave Noctis one last lingering look before retreating back toward his room.

“Sure thing, Iggy. You won’t hear a peep from me!” the shield called back with a measure of mirth that put Ignis on edge.

Ignis had only just managed to unlock the door when he heard Noctis calling after him. He looked up in time to see Noctis nearly running toward him down the hall.

“What’s wrong?” Ignis asked, concerned. Noctis was suddenly in his space, pressing him back against the door with a firm hand. There was a heat in Noctis’s gaze that went straight to Ignis’s dick. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah…” Noctis said breathlessly. He slid a hand around the back of Ignis's neck, laying claim again to his lips, uncaring who should see. He pressed himself completely against the other man, chest to chest, hip to hip, with a tension between them that was about to snap. “I don’t want to wait, Iggy.” Noctis admitted between heated kisses. “We’ve both waited long enough. Take me to bed.”

“Noct…” Ignis said weakly. He meant for it to be a protest, but his voice had other plans. He was not nearly mentally prepared enough for the onslaught of Noctis. What, exactly, had the others told Noctis that had made him so bold? Could it still be the alcohol hindering his decision-making skills? Or, did Noctis truly lust for Ignis in ways he had never expected?

“That’s a command, Ignis.” Noctis said with a low rumble. Ignis thought his legs would give out right there as his body lit up with arousal.

“Y-yes, Highness.” Ignis replied automatically.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Ignis to find the door handle again. His attention was otherwise occupied by Noctis crowding him against the door. Lips demanding his own, desperate hands groping at buttons, bodies grinding together with pent-up desire. The door finally swung open, and Noctis all but shoved Ignis inside. He closed the door behind them and locked it with a definitive click. Noctis turned his predatory eyes back to Ignis. He watched the older man’s chest rise and fall underneath his tight fitting shirt with quickened breath, his bright green eyes darkened with lust. Noctis advanced on Ignis, grabbed him by the lapels and shoved him against the nearest wall. He reclaimed Ignis’s lips as if he owned them, and Ignis was all too happy to provide. A shiver of excitement rolled through Ignis, and Noctis pressed in close to savor the trembling of his chamberlain’s body against his own.

Noctis did this to him. He had the power to reduce such an articulate, proper man into a shivering, moaning mess with nothing more than his tongue and a careful press of his thigh between Ignis’s long legs. Any protest Ignis may have had was wiped from his mind as soon as it surfaced. He had dreamed of this for some time, and now that he finally had Noctis in his grasp, he could scarcely believe it. It was a dream he never expected he would experience. He could not deny that his fantasies had accompanied him on a difficult night or two, but he’d never really entertained the idea of Noctis being so forceful. His Prince was normally far too laid back or tired to have sparked such thoughts in the suppressed primitive part of Ignis’s brain. But now with Noctis grinding his erection against his hip and the buttons of his own shirt scattered across the hotel room floor, he had to admit his fantasies fell well short of reality.

Noctis began to grind into Ignis as he sought friction against his growing erection. He yanked at the fabric in his fists. With a snap of thread, the buttons failed immediately and the shirt ripped open to allow Noctis access to the heated skin underneath. Ignis moaned wantonly into the kiss, wildly aroused by Noctis’s aggression.

Ignis’s chest was firm under Noctis’s hands, perfectly sculpted from years of hard work and discipline. Discipline that had flown out the window the second Noctis got his hands on him. His abs flexed against Noctis’s wandering fingertips. Noctis broke the desperate kiss to nip at Ignis’s jaw. He lavished attention on the pulse in Ignis's neck that pounded rapidly against Noctis’s tongue. The desire to mark and claim the man overcame reason, and he latched onto Ignis’s neck. He began sucking and biting hickeys into the delicate skin. Ignis became putty in his hands.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” Noctis hissed into the other man’s collar. He felt Ignis shiver again at his words. A groan fell from his lips and his head fell to the side, exposing more of his neck to Noctis’s abuse.

“N-Noct, language.” Ignis barely got the words out between pleasured sighs. Noctis laughed and slid a hand down the front of Ignis’s tight slacks to grind his hand against the bulge of his straining erection.

“I want to bend you over every surface of this room and bury myself inside you so deep you can’t remember your own name.” Noctis said, as if that was any less uncouth. Ignis’s cock twitched under his palm. “Is that what you want? To submit to your King’s desires?”

Ignis could scarcely think straight. His head felt light, as if all the blood had rushed down to his groin and taken his brain right along with it. Noctis’s words ticked a secret little checkbox of kinks Ignis had too happily kept buried and forgotten in the years since he split with Gladio. Yes, he did wish to submit someone else’s desire. His mind was always working, planning, analyzing, executing. He wished, for once, to just shut off his brain and give control to someone else. To Noctis. To have Noctis pulling rank on top of it like that, well, a new kink had just appeared on his list.

“Y-yes, Highness. Anything you wish.”

Noctis unlatched Ignis’s belt, flicked the button and yanked down the fly in rapid succession. Ignis’s hands began helping Noctis push the fabric down over the curve of his ass. His penis stood hot and heavy between his thighs as it was freed from the confines of his clothes. Noctis paused briefly in his quest to strip his chamberlain in favor of tentatively taking that long, slender shaft into his hand. The sensation nearly knocked the breath from Ignis’s lungs. Noctis gave him one long, slow stroke to admire the deep pink flush he had inspired in Ignis’s fair skin. Ignis could have begged when Noctis released him and took several steps back to admire the scene.

The way Noctis looked at him made Ignis’s skin prickle. Lustful eyes swept over his bare skin, mapping the muscles that defined his torso that was left bare by his now buttonless shirt. He watched Noctis’s eyes trail down the long line fair skin. His eyes landed quite obviously at the lewd display laid bare with Ignis’s waistband bunched against his thighs. Even still partially clothed, Noctis’s gaze made him feel more naked than he ever had before. He took care to keep himself professional and put together at all times, and now he leaned against the hotel room wall, undone.

“Damn, why did this take me so long?” Noctis whispered, “I could have had -this- in my bed all along?” He swept his eyes over Ignis’s form again as he palmed himself. He knelt and began helping Ignis out of his shoes, and finally totally divest him of his pants. Once freed, Noctis reached out and took Ignis in his hand once more and gave the flushed head a tentative look. Ignis had known Noctis for long enough to hear his thoughts without Noctis ever voicing a single thing. Despite his bravado, Noctis was still inexperienced, and he was keenly aware of that. Erotic films certainly gave a skewed perspective on the act. It was one thing to watch, and another to be confronted with it in real life. Noctis was nervous of failure, or whatever it was he perceived as failure. Although, he had failed to grasp the concept that Ignis would truly enjoy anything Noctis did to him, even if his technique needed work. Maybe especially if he needed work. Ignis would sacrifice his body to the cause. Another time, maybe. He desperately needed Noctis inside him now.

Ignis pushed a finger beneath Noctis's chin, forcing him to look up. Ignis was about to tell him that he didn't need to service him in such a way, but the vision of Noctis on his knees was… a lot. Words failed, thoughts scattered into the pleasantly chilled night breeze. Those lovely blue eyes focused entirely on himself with lust and adoration in equal measure. He hoped Noctis could see the same reflected right back at him.

His ingrained instinct to put his Prince first picked that moment to kick in. He gently grasped Noctis's bicep and helped him stand up again, muttering quiet admonishments about the hard wood and Noctis's bad knee. With the Prince back on his feet, Ignis allowed his needs to guide him. The wall fell away behind him as he took a step into Noctis's space. He grabbed the sides of Noctis’s face and tilted it up to lick at the seam of his lips, asking permission to slide between them. Noctis's lips parted, accepting Ignis’s insistent tongue in a careless kiss.

Ignis guided Noctis backward until his knees caught on the edge of the bed, and Noctis was pushed down onto the mattress. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching Ignis with hungry eyes as he dropped to his knees on the hard wood, grabbed Noctis by the belt loops, and dragged him near the edge of the bed. He gently pushed Noctis’s thighs apart and settled himself comfortably between them. Noctis watched him with wide eyes until Ignis turned his gaze upward and locked eyes with him. All of Noctis’s bravado burned away immediately.

“May I?” Ignis asked. His voice was quiet, deeper and more intimate than Noctis had ever heard it. Everything about him was straight out of Noctis’s wet dreams. Noctis could only swallow the lump in his throat and nod dumbly. Ignis canted his head to the side and frowned. “Words, Noctis, please.”

“Uh, yeah. Yes. G-go wild, I guess?”

Dexterous fingers immediately unbuttoned and unzipped Noctis’s pants. Ignis hesitated for only a second. His heart thundered in his chest. He took a slow, calming breath, then dipped beneath the fabric of Noctis's underwear to pull his full cock free. Noctis barely had time to register it before Ignis’s mouth was on him. His cock slid easily into Ignis’s mouth and sat thick on his tongue. Ignis’s fingers wrapped around his base to slowly stroke every bit of his shaft not being serviced by Ignis’s mouth.

Instinctively, Noctis rested his hands on Ignis’s head to card his fingers lovingly through the destroyed coif. A moan fell unbidden from his lips while Ignis worked his tongue along the underside of his dick and toyed with the deep red tip. Noctis quivered under Ignis's slow, purposeful attention. Nothing was rushed or sloppy about the way Ignis worked, especially not here, and not with Noctis. Each press of tongue to skin was an act of worship, an offering. His fingers tightened in Ignis's hair.

Ignis paused. A shutter crawled down his spine. He would have expected pleasure. At any other time it would have been. It should have been. But it was fear that accompanied the sensation. A drop of unknowable darkness settled in the back of his mind. A faint sense of deja vu overcame him. But just as quickly as it had come, it was washed away by the pleasure he had initially expected. Noctis hadn't seemed to notice, basking as he was in Ignis's continued acts of worship.

Noctis watched with rapt attention to the way Ignis’s lips wrapped around him, slowly taking more and more into his mouth with each bob of his head. With every few strokes, Ignis took Noctis to the root, letting the head bump against the back of his throat. It wasn’t going to take much to send Noctis over the edge at this rate. He could last so much longer by himself, but he was already wandering too close to his peak. It was the mere thought that it was Ignis that was settled between his thighs, Ignis’s hand massaging his balls, Ignis’s throat clenching around his dick that made his body shiver with pleasure. Something about the taboo of nature of having Ignis touch him so intimately made everything feel twice as good.

“Iggy, If you don’t stop, I’m going to lose it,” Noctis said with a rumbling groan. Ignis looked up at him briefly, his eyes alight with mischief, as if Noctis had just offered a challenge he knew he could win. He licked his lips before descending on Noctis again. Ignis licked at the head of Noctis’s cock to savor the taste of him as precum began to bead at his tip, then blew a cool breath across Noctis’s heated skin, sending a shock of sensation through his core. It made Ignis’s hot tongue sliding up the underside of his cock feel like fire. Ignis began to pleasure him in earnest. One hand stroked his shaft while the other gently squeezed his balls. Ignis took the head into his mouth once more and sucked.

Noctis didn’t stand a chance. He tipped his head back with a long moan as he came. Ignis pulled back, licking Noctis’s cum from his lips while he stroked him through his orgasm. The thick white fluid sullied Ignis’s fingers as it slid down his shaft. Ignis watched him, awe evident in his eyes as Noctis finally met his gaze again.

“You… are perfect.” Noctis said, breathless. He reached out, grabbing Ignis’s collar and pulled him close, taking his lips in a bruising, desperate kiss. He was drunk on Ignis, on the taste of himself on Ignis’s tongue. Ignis crawled over Noctis’s lap on the bed as they kissed. His hands wandered under Noctis's shirt, playing against heated skin and flexing muscle. The thin fabric bunched around Ignis's wrists as he drove his hands across Noctis's bare chest. He broke the kiss only long enough to pull the shirt over Noctis's head and toss it onto a nearby chair.

Each time Noctis tried to reach for Ignis to grant him some relief, his hand was swatted away or pinned next to his head momentarily. Ignis did an expert job at distracting Noctis from this task as he pressed Noctis into the mattress and kissed him senseless. Noctis had to physically push Ignis back to get him to stop his assault long enough for Noctis to catch his breath.

“Good Six, Specs, give me a second to breathe. I'm going to pass out if you keep up like this. Let me at least help you out while I catch my breath.” Noctis huffed. Ignis shook his head and grabbed Noctis's hand when he reached for Ignis again.

“No. You need to make good on your threats.” Ignis purred. Noctis blinked up at him, not recalling making any threats toward Ignis. He raised his eyebrows in question. Ignis sighed and leaned down to whisper Noctis's own words back to him. “‘I want to bend you over every surface of this room and bury myself inside you so deep you can’t remember your own name.’”

“I-Iggy, what the fuck. Give a guy a warning before you say things like that!” Noctis sputtered. A furious blush arose on his cheeks at hearing those words in Ignis's deep, smooth voice. Ignis rarely said so much as a curse word in front of Noctis. The filth caught him off guard, even if he had said them first. “I was just j—” he caught himself on the word ‘joking’. He had not been joking. He was simply all bark and little bite. “--Isn't there, like, stuff we need to do before?”

“There is,” Ignis confirmed with a low chuckle. “You sound nervous.”

“I— yeah. I am. I don't know how to— you know… prepare… properly,” Noctis stumbled over his words. Ignis's lip twitched up in amusement.

“If you need a moment, I can certainly go take care of that myself.”

“No— no, that's alright.”

“Noct…” Ignis said slowly, cupping Noctis's cheek as he leaned forward, “if you want to stop, just tell me.”

“It's not that.”

“Then tell me what you want.”

Noctis was quiet for a second as he pushed the mortification down. Ignis began to dismount from Noctis's hips before Noctis seized his waist and forced him down again.

“I want to watch you do it.” Noctis said quietly. Ignis's laugh was melodic in the otherwise quiet room. Noctis visibly relaxed at the sound of it.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Ignis said before he placed a kiss on Noctis's cheek and sat up again. “Where would you like me?”

“The bed is fine,” Noctis replied as he peeled his fingers back from Ignis's pale waist. “Do… you need anything to… make it easier?” He watched as Ignis's skin turned red where Noctis had been gripping, unintentionally leaving finger and nail prints just above Ignis's slim hips.

“Proper lubrication would make things more pleasant, yes, but barring that, saliva is somewhat acceptable in desperate circumstances.”

Noctis's soul left his body. His advisor just suggested he was willing to use spit as lube. Noctis unconsciously swallowed, his throat was suddenly very dry.

He allowed Ignis to dismount this time, knowing he wouldn't straight up leave. With the weight gone, Noctis lifted his hips and dug his hand into his back pocket. He tossed the small foil packet into the bed next to him. He watched Ignis's eyes follow the motion.

“Oh? And how did you come by this?” Ignis questioned as he picked up the condom package to examine it.

“S-so… remember how I said I talked to the others before I came to find you?”

“Gladio had plans, did he?” Ignis raised an eyebrow and put the condom on the side table until it was needed again.

“Yeah… he didn't seem super thrilled, but…” Noctis trailed off with a shrug. The Shield was still dedicated to Noctis's safety, even if it meant enabling unfavorable behavior.

“Kind of him to give up his plans for our sake. Perhaps I should grant him the mercy of not keeping him from our room for too much longer, then.” Ignis said with a sigh. Gladio always made his feelings clear, and his thoughts on Ignis's infatuation with Noctis was a somewhat frequent topic. However, even Gladio knew when he had lost. Ignis was famously stubborn once he set his mind on something.

“Actually, uh, Prompto said they switched around the sleeping arrangements while we were off… working things out.”

“Kind of them…” Ignis said, suspicion sneaking into his tone. There was a slight sense of humiliation, Ignis realized, knowing that the others knew exactly what was happening, and had taken steps to enable it. How much had Gladio shared with Noctis about his proclivities? How much was Prompto present for?

“T-that's all to say, uh…” Noctis began hesitantly before his words tumbled gracelessly from his mouth, “there's half a bottle of lube in my bag, and you're welcome to use it.”

“Half?” Ignis asked as he stepped off the bed and moved toward the luggage rack. He could feel Noctis's eyes on him the whole way, watching his nude form cross the room.

“A man has needs. I've used most of it on you anyway, you may as well finish it off.” Noctis grumbled. Ignis turned his head and gave Noctis an appraising look. “What?! This didn't come out of nowhere, Iggy. You haven't seen yourself fight. It makes my palms all sweaty, but trust me when I say that isn't nearly enough for how hard I've jerked off to you, alright? It’s in the zipper pocket on the inside.”

Ignis didn't know how to feel about the revelation. It was a lot to take in amid everything else. Mostly it was mild annoyance that neither of them had been brave or stupid enough before now, their last days before leaving to meet up with Noctis's fiancé, to do anything about it.

He tossed the bottle over to Noctis and returned to the bed. Noctis scooted over to allow Ignis space to slide in next to him. Ignis immediately leaned in and stole another long kiss from Noctis.

“Then we have some lost time to make up for, I suppose.” Ignis said matter-of-factly as he turned himself onto his side, facing away from Noctis. He held a hand out toward Noctis, his middle and ring finger presented expectantly. Noctis swallowed as his throat went suddenly dry. He flipped the cap and squeezed some of the slick gel onto Ignis's long fingers.

With a steadying breath, Ignis shifted against the pillows, and reached around behind him. His slick fingers tentatively brushed against his anus, making himself clench instinctively. He rubbed the pad of his finger around the rim before adding more pressure. The tip of his middle finger slid in easily, even as the muscle fluttered around the intrusion. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip as he added more pressure, plunging his finger farther inside. His ring finger followed shortly after, digging in and nestling inside him next to his middle finger.

Ignis could feel Noctis's eyes boring into him, watching every twitch of muscle as Ignis pulled his fingers part-way out before shoving them back in. Once he no longer felt the dull ache of penetration faded, Ignis added his index finger as well.

Noctis watched, mesmerized, as three of Ignis’s slick fingers slipped into his tight hole. The muscle tensed at the intrusion, but Ignis just pushed more, forcing himself open. He didn't have the reach or angle to press against his prostate, but even so, his pleasure was building quickly. Noctis shifted on the bed behind him, and when Ignis opened his eyes to glance his way, Noctis was sitting back on his heels, pants pulled down to his knees, slowly stroking himself as he began to grow hard again. Ignis couldn't help the aroused groan that rumbled in his chest at the sight. His breathing picked up, and precum began to drip from his neglected cock. Ignis quickly reached over to the bedside table and tossed the condom in front of Noctis. He cast a glance over his shoulder and watched Noctis take the packet and turn it over in his hand.

“Iggy, can I… leave it off?” Noctis asked. Ignis huffed a breathless laugh.

“Yes, of course, if that is what you desire.” Ignis managed, his voice husky with arousal. Turned to get his knees under him and used his free hand to steady himself with a white-knuckled grip on the headboard.

Noctis tossed the packet onto the floor. He grabbed the bottle of lube in one hand, and reached forward with his other, caressing Ignis’s shapely backside before giving it a swift smack. Ignis startled and moaned into the sheet. The cold sensation of lube dripping onto his busy fingers followed shortly after. Noctis pressed a thumb against Ignis’s hole where it squeezed around Ignis’s own fingers. It easily slid in beside Ignis’s fingers and he tugged at his rim. Ignis’s entire lower body locked up, earning him another sharp slap. Ignis was already breathing hard. His cock began to leak precum freely. The sight made Noctis hard again immediately. He gave himself a long, tight stroke with his lube-covered hand. With his other, he pulled Ignis’s hand away and guided his thumb back into Ignis’s now lax body, and then without much warning, slid his cock alongside it.

Ignis arched his back and gave a slow, drawn out sigh as Noctis pressed the whole of himself inside Ignis. His body clenched beautifully around Noctis’s erection, massaging his length as he pulled out half way and then shoved himself back to the base. Ignis’s moans were music to his ears, encouraging him to thrust harder. Ignis was not quiet, groaning Noctis’s name as he dug his nails into the headboard. Noctis gripped Ignis's hips and began pulling him back against the brutal snap of his hips. Ignis was in pure bliss.

Noctis shifted his grip and leaned forward to wrap his elbow around the base of Ignis's neck. Ignis released the headboard and allowed Noctis to pull him upright. Ignis's back flexed against Noctis's chest, and his head dropped back to rest on Noctis's shoulder.

Ignis gasped at the feeling of Noctis's forearm against his throat. Once again, that spike of fear crawled up his spine, making him squirm in Noctis's tight hold. Noctis's warm breath was in his ear, though, and the quiet whisper of his own name on Noctis's lips once again pushed the sensation aside. He had no room left in him for anything aside from Noctis.

Noctis's free hand ran over Ignis's flank. He groped at Ignis's chest, massaging and pinching the sensitive nipple. Ignis gripped Noctis's forearm, hanging on for dear life as Noctis pounded into him. He grabbed at the hand abusing his chest and pulled it down, silently demanding that Noctis finally give his aching cock attention. Noctis obediently took the hot shaft into his hand and gave it a long, slow stroke. Ignis's fingers twitched against his own. He wrapped them around Noctis's loose fist, forcing it to clench tighter around him.

“Please, Noctis.” Ignis moaned as he ground his pelvis into their joined fists. Noctis kissed the soft skin of Ignis's neck before digging his teeth in and abusing it, leaving mark after mark across every inch of skin Noctis could get his lips on. He stroked Ignis quicker, thrust into him harder until Ignis was a writhing mess in his arms.

Ignis didn't try to hold back when he came. He chanted and moaned Noctis's name like a prayer. His spend coated their fingers, making the slide of Noctis's hands against the twitching member even easier.

Noctis made to pull out before Ignis became overstimulated, but he found the other man pressing back against him and his hands tightening around where Noctis held him. “N-no, keep going.” He huffed. Noctis happily obliged. He broke Ignis’s grip and yanked him off the bed. The sound of protest Ignis made was cut out suddenly as Noctis pushed Ignis against the floor-to-ceiling windows. He kicked Ignis's long legs apart, pinned his hands against the window swiftly thrust back into him, quickly picking up speed until the sound of skin slapping against skin all but drowned out Ignis’s moans. Ignis's quickened breath against the cooled glass created little puffs of condensation while Noctis continued his assault across Ignis's shoulders and neck.

Noctis's own orgasm was quickly approaching. He briefly considered pulling out, spilling his seed across Ignis’s defined back, but the depraved monster Ignis had awoken in him wanted to see it drip down his pale, shaking thighs. Noctis bit down on Ignis's trapezius and he emptied himself inside of his chamberlain's ravaged body. Noctis’s spend spilled out after Noctis’s slowly softening cock. He stepped back and watched in satisfaction as it rolled down between Ignis’s legs.

Ignis didn't move for a minute, afraid that if he didn't use the window for stability, his legs would simply give out under him. It wasn't until the realization that it was clear glass under his hands that he finally stepped back and gripped the blinds to throw them closed.

Anybody who happened to be on a boat that evening would have seen. Granted, it didn't appear that any were in eyesight, but it was the principle of it. Ignis would have reprimanded Noctis if he had had any sense left in himself to have realized it sooner. He was just as much at fault. The impropriety of their ‘unintentional’ exhibitionism made a shiver of arousal course through him. Apparently he would have to add that to the list of kinks Ignis didn't realize he had.

Hands on his waist made him turn around. Noctis pulled him along as he hobbled backward, trying to kick his pants off the rest of the way before he plopped back down onto the bed and pulled Ignis over him. Ignis’s knees bracketed Noctis’s thighs, his hips pressed against Noctis’s, reminiscent of how Noctis straddled Ignis as they shared heated kisses on the Haven outcrop.

“Well…” Ignis said into the scant space between them, “There’s two surfaces down.”

“So, are you usually this horny, or am I just special?”

“You’re special.” Ignis chuckled. “I would not have shame and self-restraint come between us whilst we have such little time remaining. If this is the only night I have to express this manner of love to you, then I want no regrets.”

“And… if I said I didn't want this to be our only night?” Noctis asked expectantly. Ignis looked into his eyes and saw only sincerity. Ignis caressed Noctis's cheek.

“I dare not give myself that hope. The morning is hours away yet, and sobriety is cruel. If this turns out to be more than a fleeting dream, then we can face the obstacles in our path. But for now, let us experience each other as if we never may again.”

“So… coffee table or railing?”

Notes:

Happy Birthday, Iggy.

Notes:

This fic will be marked explicit at a later date, but seeing as I don't know exactly when that will be, I am gonna hold off on rating it as such until that time. I'll also likely go into some morally gray areas and some non-con situations with some particularly... handsy daemons. I'll update the tags as these situations come up, of course.

I hope you enjoy the first chapter. Kudos and comments will certainly give me more motivation to work on this instead of being a responsible adult. Thanks for reading!