[ It's a condition he assumes Noctis will utterly refuse, which is fine. It's expected, and he'll plan around it, he'll make certain that if he does have to leave for any reason, he'll hide his trail so thoroughly Noctis won't find him until he intends it. He may not have hidden himself particularly well but that was partially due to circumstances; he needed money and stability and there weren't a lot of options for someone like him who could only remember things in bits and patches. His body remembered killing; that was easy.
If he needs to run, he'll make sure some of the focus of his time are connections and various assets he can use to vanish for as long as he needs. The king of Lucis can't just be running off after a blind--- what, former employee? No matter how much he cared about him. The country would notice and Ignis knew enough about himself to know that that was unacceptable. ]
Anything else is too much to give someone you barely know.
[ It's said evenly, but he understands that it's cruel, after a fashion. Noctis is soft. He hadn't realized it before, but despite the stature, the power, the command that suffuses his voice sometimes, he's not a king crafted by darkness and desperation, or hunger for power. His edges are soft in all the ways that Ardyn's were knives and spikes. Silently, Ignis moves to the living room to start tidying the table; he owns a handful of things here and most of them are clothing. His tone gentles as if realizing that chastising isn't the correct way to handle this. He needs to do something with his hands, so he starts putting the notebooks into his pack for the clothes to layer over. Now, he knows why whoever Ignis Scientia was before was so protective of Noctis. Was it as hard to say no to Noctis then, as it is for him now? ]
no subject
If he needs to run, he'll make sure some of the focus of his time are connections and various assets he can use to vanish for as long as he needs. The king of Lucis can't just be running off after a blind--- what, former employee? No matter how much he cared about him. The country would notice and Ignis knew enough about himself to know that that was unacceptable. ]
Anything else is too much to give someone you barely know.
[ It's said evenly, but he understands that it's cruel, after a fashion. Noctis is soft. He hadn't realized it before, but despite the stature, the power, the command that suffuses his voice sometimes, he's not a king crafted by darkness and desperation, or hunger for power. His edges are soft in all the ways that Ardyn's were knives and spikes. Silently, Ignis moves to the living room to start tidying the table; he owns a handful of things here and most of them are clothing. His tone gentles as if realizing that chastising isn't the correct way to handle this. He needs to do something with his hands, so he starts putting the notebooks into his pack for the clothes to layer over. Now, he knows why whoever Ignis Scientia was before was so protective of Noctis. Was it as hard to say no to Noctis then, as it is for him now? ]
Be careful of your bleeding heart, Your Highness.