[ In the end of the world, there aren't any jewelers. There are the storefronts where they used to be and if Ignis wanted, he could of course simply walk in and peruse the wreckage for something shiny. In the beginning of the new world, when the rubble is cleared and the sky is blue and Noctis lives and breathes and blessedly still refuses to eat his carrots, there still aren't many jewelers. Most craftsmen are occupied with important tasks to rebuild the kingdom and jewelry isn't one of them. It takes time for things to get back to a sort of normal where Ignis can do something like visit jewelry shops to talk about rings.
Ignis is nothing if not efficient, though. He makes contact with all of the former jewelers in their new jobs, partially out of curiosity and to make certain that their people are being utilized as efficiently as possible and partially to get an idea of their work. Someone could design and develop lovely trinkets, of course, but if they didn't apply the same sort of care and time to a project that was a thousand times more important but perhaps thankless, then he wasn't interested in giving them his business.
All of the research results in making multiple contacts who are hyper-qualified to handle the melting down of much of Insomnia to help deal with the wreckage and he learns a great deal about metallurgy that he hadn't quite anticipated, but there's one that sticks out in his mind. The daughter of a man who had owned one of the shops over in the textiles district, her father long since passed, somewhere in year four or five. When the darkness had come, she'd used her tools to help repair weapons and armor, had become friends with Cindy for a short while before work brought her elsewhere and was now married to someone else, a journalist, he'd heard. Ignis hadn't ever associated with her much, but when she reopens her fathers store he stops by.
She knows him and of the prince, now King. She also knows why he's there, and doesn't bother trying to show him any of the items that are on display right now. Instead, she settles him down with a list of every single type of metal, jewel, fixture and other aspect of jewelry she has access to, and provides him with a spreadsheet detailing locations, estimated time for delivery and every other piece of information that he could possibly hope to have. It's shockingly detailed and far more than he expects. When he asks about it, she grins and tells him that her husband, Dino, had mentioned the guy with the glasses, he likes all that detail oriented crap, go wild.
Of course.
Oddly pleased Dino's survived the nightmare along with the rest of them, he spends a solid week and a half working with her on obtaining the parts he want, taking a day trip to obtain something specific that she said they'd need to get the right shade in one of the fixtures.
When it's done, settled in the little box, she jokingly asks him for an invite. He promises without hesitation to give her and her husband one. The thing is, once he has it, the box seems to weigh a thousand times more than its contents. It sits in his obscenely massive closet for a while, tucked in a corner. Every time he thinks he's going to do it, something comes up, or there's some new issues to take his attention. Perhaps a wedding just...isn't in the cards for them for the next few years. They've had the coronation; certainly that's enough, but he wants more. It feels...greedy, almost, as if the love of his life living despite everything the gods, Ardyn, and everyone else is too much to ask for. He knows it's absurd but waking up to Noctis every single morning is a gift beyond measure or price and to want something else on top of that seems like it's too much.
So the box stays. Ignis buries himself in work during the mornings and day, and in Noctis' arms at night and it's comfortable, it works. The box and its precious contents will keep.
Breakfast, on the other hand, will not. Ignis settles it on Noctis' lap and climbs up next to him, winding an arm around him while he pulls his phone up to peruse the news and pick at his coffee, along with bits of Noctis' breakfast, not hungry enough for his own.
The problem with the city and its people being strong and rebuilding so quickly is that everything starts rebuilding, even the more unsavory parts. With dedicated time and people for news comes the resurgence of newspapers. With that comes the resurgence of gossip rags. Ignis flips through the assortment of ones that are earmarked for him - ones they may have to answer in press conferences because someone is too stupid to realize that no, the Citadel is not housing a bat-boy in any way, shape or form. This time, though, there's one that catches his eye.
RIGHT HAND MAN LOOKING TO PUT A RING ON IT? KING NOCTIS' CHIEF ADVISOR REPORTEDLY LOOKING FOR LOVE
Attached is a remarkably terrible photograph of him in the jeweler's though, so there's not much help denying it. Ignis files it before it can do any harm and just...assumes Noctis won't ever see it. ]
setting this in the au where he can see fuck u ffxv
Ignis is nothing if not efficient, though. He makes contact with all of the former jewelers in their new jobs, partially out of curiosity and to make certain that their people are being utilized as efficiently as possible and partially to get an idea of their work. Someone could design and develop lovely trinkets, of course, but if they didn't apply the same sort of care and time to a project that was a thousand times more important but perhaps thankless, then he wasn't interested in giving them his business.
All of the research results in making multiple contacts who are hyper-qualified to handle the melting down of much of Insomnia to help deal with the wreckage and he learns a great deal about metallurgy that he hadn't quite anticipated, but there's one that sticks out in his mind. The daughter of a man who had owned one of the shops over in the textiles district, her father long since passed, somewhere in year four or five. When the darkness had come, she'd used her tools to help repair weapons and armor, had become friends with Cindy for a short while before work brought her elsewhere and was now married to someone else, a journalist, he'd heard. Ignis hadn't ever associated with her much, but when she reopens her fathers store he stops by.
She knows him and of the prince, now King. She also knows why he's there, and doesn't bother trying to show him any of the items that are on display right now. Instead, she settles him down with a list of every single type of metal, jewel, fixture and other aspect of jewelry she has access to, and provides him with a spreadsheet detailing locations, estimated time for delivery and every other piece of information that he could possibly hope to have. It's shockingly detailed and far more than he expects. When he asks about it, she grins and tells him that her husband, Dino, had mentioned the guy with the glasses, he likes all that detail oriented crap, go wild.
Of course.
Oddly pleased Dino's survived the nightmare along with the rest of them, he spends a solid week and a half working with her on obtaining the parts he want, taking a day trip to obtain something specific that she said they'd need to get the right shade in one of the fixtures.
When it's done, settled in the little box, she jokingly asks him for an invite. He promises without hesitation to give her and her husband one. The thing is, once he has it, the box seems to weigh a thousand times more than its contents. It sits in his obscenely massive closet for a while, tucked in a corner. Every time he thinks he's going to do it, something comes up, or there's some new issues to take his attention. Perhaps a wedding just...isn't in the cards for them for the next few years. They've had the coronation; certainly that's enough, but he wants more. It feels...greedy, almost, as if the love of his life living despite everything the gods, Ardyn, and everyone else is too much to ask for. He knows it's absurd but waking up to Noctis every single morning is a gift beyond measure or price and to want something else on top of that seems like it's too much.
So the box stays. Ignis buries himself in work during the mornings and day, and in Noctis' arms at night and it's comfortable, it works. The box and its precious contents will keep.
Breakfast, on the other hand, will not. Ignis settles it on Noctis' lap and climbs up next to him, winding an arm around him while he pulls his phone up to peruse the news and pick at his coffee, along with bits of Noctis' breakfast, not hungry enough for his own.
The problem with the city and its people being strong and rebuilding so quickly is that everything starts rebuilding, even the more unsavory parts. With dedicated time and people for news comes the resurgence of newspapers. With that comes the resurgence of gossip rags. Ignis flips through the assortment of ones that are earmarked for him - ones they may have to answer in press conferences because someone is too stupid to realize that no, the Citadel is not housing a bat-boy in any way, shape or form. This time, though, there's one that catches his eye.
RIGHT HAND MAN LOOKING TO PUT A RING ON IT? KING NOCTIS' CHIEF ADVISOR REPORTEDLY LOOKING FOR LOVE
Attached is a remarkably terrible photograph of him in the jeweler's though, so there's not much help denying it. Ignis files it before it can do any harm and just...assumes Noctis won't ever see it. ]
How's breakfast?