[ Noctis can take care of himself, he insists -- the problems in Duscae cannot wait, demanding the immediate attention of the king's Chamberlain and right-hand man himself. Although not quite royal protocol, but Noctis has never been one for protocol, considering that protocol had almost cost Ignis his life.
The mortal wound that Noctis had expressly bid Ignis to inflict on him is on its way to healing -- and while Noctis is still weak, he's become stronger under Ignis' care. His beloved, faithful even when Noctis demanded from him the impossible, who saved his life (and everyone else's), still cares so tirelessly for him despite having nearly been executed for his trouble, and Noctis doesn't even have the most remote idea of how to thank him.
How do you thank someone you are so impossibly indebted to, how do you begin to reciprocate? A furious Noctis had wrought hell upon his glaives as soon as he was conscious, enraged despite the fact that he could barely stand, and it would have almost been comical if it wasn't so dire, the fact that the king, in his flimsy hospital robes and barely able to stand, had put himself in between his injured lover and his troop of glaives decked out in full combat gear, putting the fear of the gods in them.
But they are past that now, Ignis restored and his name cleared, Noctis ensuring that he receives the highest of honours, even though it's always bothered Noctis how Ignis barely even put up a struggle when the man would logically have given the glaives an extremely hard time if he wanted to.
It means guilt, the king knows. It means Ignis bears a weight no one else can dream of ensuring. It means that Noctis has to fix this, too. Neither of them came out of the ordeal unscathed, and so many of Ignis' wounds are where he cannot see them.
Presently, he's tiredly nuzzling Ignis before his departure. His forehead is clammy, he's still pale and sleeps more than he usually does, having expended so much of negligible strength defending Ignis days ago, fiercely protective; and it's only after clearing his name and enacting a decree that Ignis is to be accorded the kingdom's highest honours that he collapsed in the hallway upon the conclusion of the session, carefully out of sight of his officials. He had been carried to his chambers, and had slept for hours after that. His beloved had not left his side since, and Noctis aches with sympathy. ]
You'll be late if you don't leave soon. I hear they've prepared a room in the ship for you.
leaving.
The mortal wound that Noctis had expressly bid Ignis to inflict on him is on its way to healing -- and while Noctis is still weak, he's become stronger under Ignis' care. His beloved, faithful even when Noctis demanded from him the impossible, who saved his life (and everyone else's), still cares so tirelessly for him despite having nearly been executed for his trouble, and Noctis doesn't even have the most remote idea of how to thank him.
How do you thank someone you are so impossibly indebted to, how do you begin to reciprocate? A furious Noctis had wrought hell upon his glaives as soon as he was conscious, enraged despite the fact that he could barely stand, and it would have almost been comical if it wasn't so dire, the fact that the king, in his flimsy hospital robes and barely able to stand, had put himself in between his injured lover and his troop of glaives decked out in full combat gear, putting the fear of the gods in them.
But they are past that now, Ignis restored and his name cleared, Noctis ensuring that he receives the highest of honours, even though it's always bothered Noctis how Ignis barely even put up a struggle when the man would logically have given the glaives an extremely hard time if he wanted to.
It means guilt, the king knows. It means Ignis bears a weight no one else can dream of ensuring. It means that Noctis has to fix this, too. Neither of them came out of the ordeal unscathed, and so many of Ignis' wounds are where he cannot see them.
Presently, he's tiredly nuzzling Ignis before his departure. His forehead is clammy, he's still pale and sleeps more than he usually does, having expended so much of negligible strength defending Ignis days ago, fiercely protective; and it's only after clearing his name and enacting a decree that Ignis is to be accorded the kingdom's highest honours that he collapsed in the hallway upon the conclusion of the session, carefully out of sight of his officials. He had been carried to his chambers, and had slept for hours after that. His beloved had not left his side since, and Noctis aches with sympathy. ]
You'll be late if you don't leave soon. I hear they've prepared a room in the ship for you.
[ And Ignis will finally be able to rest then. ]