[ There's no fight. There's nothing but understanding and quiet. Ignis thinks he's grateful for that, maybe, but mostly he's tired. A little sad. Determined. He can't ask Noctis to wear his ring until he fixes this. The ring's weight was difficult when he was trying to think about how to do it, but now it's even heavier with this added on top. It'll be worth it, he swears to himself, to Noctis. He'll make it work. ]
No one worth marrying. And I admit, I'm rather set on the idea of having the king to myself in the bedroom and by name.
[ A pause as he considers it, stroking his fingers down the line of Noctis' jaw, lips curving into a slow smile as the way he leans onto him shifts from because it's convenient to full of intent. That morning, he spends his time relearning all of the places that make Noctis shiver and break underneath him in the loveliest of ways, and that day and night he turns himself to work.
It takes a few solid months of effort, of research, but he's right about one thing. All men have a price. It may not be a monetary one, but men can be bought. He doesn't even want anything particularly nefarious, which helps. One month, he focuses on every single technological advancement he can manage, diverting funds where possible to ensure that Lucis has the capability to begin existing for a longer period of time if one of the territories decides to try and make a power play. Another month, it's agriculture. He references everything that Regis did because if there were an example of how to make a city entirely sufficient on itself with minimal help, it was him.
Things are still busy being rebuilt, but Ignis has an advantage in both the good will their efforts have borne and with the simple fact that Regis was nothing if not methodical and detailed. It's easy to spend his free hours dedicating himself to ensuring they rely on no one. No one can blackmail them into it, no one can strong arm them into it and the first man that tries, Ignis crushes neatly, a bug under his thumb.
The Council approaches him three times and each time he buys time until the third, where he spreads out the entirety of his work in such a small period of time and dares them to object. Even the one who he'd been concerned about accepts it, agrees, and later Monica tells him if this is what you do out of love for our king, I'd hate to see what happens when you do something out of anger for him.
Ignis smiles thinly, remembering the rush of pain and power from the Ring, and his utmost surety that he would use it to make Ardyn pay, to protect his prince with everything he had in him to see this through. It didn't end up well for the last man who went after Noctis.
Monica hums in response and tells him that if he does this now, it is a perfect time to plan for a wedding if they want to aim for the summer, warm and sunny. Maybe on the longest day of the year, she suggests knowingly.
Maybe. Ignis holds that idea in the back of his mind. As far as he can tell, Lucis is in as good of a place as it can be and anyone who could think to make a marriage trade has been handled in one way or another. He still loves Noctis as much as the day all of this began in their bed, the ring heavy, suddenly unbearable.
Now, he places the box on the breakfast tray with no hesitation (he'll eat later, he tells himself, unconsciously mirroring that day) and makes his way back to their room, the soft material of his sweatpants dragging against the floor where it hangs low on his hips. Unsurprisingly, Noctis is still asleep, covered in the mess of pillows and blankets Ignis left him tucked into. The tray is settled next to the bed and Ignis crawls under the covers to slide up and spoon against his back, stroking a hand over his belly while he lays gentle kisses at the nape of Noctis' neck. He's sleepwarm and perfect like this, all loose, lax lines. Ignis shoves cool fingers against his belly just because he's warm and there and tucks cold feet against Noctis' because what is love if not this? ]
V1 - Good
No one worth marrying. And I admit, I'm rather set on the idea of having the king to myself in the bedroom and by name.
[ A pause as he considers it, stroking his fingers down the line of Noctis' jaw, lips curving into a slow smile as the way he leans onto him shifts from because it's convenient to full of intent. That morning, he spends his time relearning all of the places that make Noctis shiver and break underneath him in the loveliest of ways, and that day and night he turns himself to work.
It takes a few solid months of effort, of research, but he's right about one thing. All men have a price. It may not be a monetary one, but men can be bought. He doesn't even want anything particularly nefarious, which helps. One month, he focuses on every single technological advancement he can manage, diverting funds where possible to ensure that Lucis has the capability to begin existing for a longer period of time if one of the territories decides to try and make a power play. Another month, it's agriculture. He references everything that Regis did because if there were an example of how to make a city entirely sufficient on itself with minimal help, it was him.
Things are still busy being rebuilt, but Ignis has an advantage in both the good will their efforts have borne and with the simple fact that Regis was nothing if not methodical and detailed. It's easy to spend his free hours dedicating himself to ensuring they rely on no one. No one can blackmail them into it, no one can strong arm them into it and the first man that tries, Ignis crushes neatly, a bug under his thumb.
The Council approaches him three times and each time he buys time until the third, where he spreads out the entirety of his work in such a small period of time and dares them to object. Even the one who he'd been concerned about accepts it, agrees, and later Monica tells him if this is what you do out of love for our king, I'd hate to see what happens when you do something out of anger for him.
Ignis smiles thinly, remembering the rush of pain and power from the Ring, and his utmost surety that he would use it to make Ardyn pay, to protect his prince with everything he had in him to see this through. It didn't end up well for the last man who went after Noctis.
Monica hums in response and tells him that if he does this now, it is a perfect time to plan for a wedding if they want to aim for the summer, warm and sunny. Maybe on the longest day of the year, she suggests knowingly.
Maybe. Ignis holds that idea in the back of his mind. As far as he can tell, Lucis is in as good of a place as it can be and anyone who could think to make a marriage trade has been handled in one way or another. He still loves Noctis as much as the day all of this began in their bed, the ring heavy, suddenly unbearable.
Now, he places the box on the breakfast tray with no hesitation (he'll eat later, he tells himself, unconsciously mirroring that day) and makes his way back to their room, the soft material of his sweatpants dragging against the floor where it hangs low on his hips. Unsurprisingly, Noctis is still asleep, covered in the mess of pillows and blankets Ignis left him tucked into. The tray is settled next to the bed and Ignis crawls under the covers to slide up and spoon against his back, stroking a hand over his belly while he lays gentle kisses at the nape of Noctis' neck. He's sleepwarm and perfect like this, all loose, lax lines. Ignis shoves cool fingers against his belly just because he's warm and there and tucks cold feet against Noctis' because what is love if not this? ]
I brought you breakfast.