[ It's a good match. It's a match that benefits every single party involved and involves no bloodshed for years to come. The alliance of Nifleheim is one that makes more sense than anything else they could hope to do and Ignis, despite spending countless hours in meetings and in the library, can't find a way out of it. He tries everything possible and then debates going a step further - going to the leaders and either trying to appeal to their better natures or threaten them, but won't do either.
Not when it's not just one land at risk for his foolishness, but two.
It will usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, the news claims on the radio in the morning. Ignis resists the urge ti throw his dagger through the blasted thing.
ALLIANCE SECURED - WEDDING DATE TBD! A newspaper cheerfully states, listing profiles of the king and princess directly after. It's not a flattering photograph of Noctis but it doesn't matter; he's beautiful either way, the line of his jaw, the blue of his eyes, the fall of his hair. Ignis sucks in a breath, holds it, and steels himself for what has to come.
( 'It's not that I think you haven't thought this through - I know you've thought about it every single direction you could,' Gladiolus says late one night, their shoulders brushing as they sit in front of the campfire; foolishly, Ignis had accepted the trip not realizing that this was, effectively, an ambush. 'But I know you. You've told the kid no a grand total of what, five times? If I'm bein' real fucking generous here, too. So you're telling me that this-- with this you're going to tell him no for the rest of your life? You're gonna sit there at his shoulder as his right arm and tell him no and you think that's...gonna work.' )
At the time, Ignis had been furious and stung that Gladiolus went through all of this effort just to say he doubted him, but under all of that was the awful sense of agreement. He doesn't think he can last forever with him like this, but he doesn't trust himself to last forever without him like this, either.
It would be easier, Ignis thinks bitterly, if Octavia weren't someone who he genuinely liked. She wanted to like Noctis, she arguably did like him because he was terribly easy to love like that, but she also didn't fight this. He could respect her quiet certainty, the way that she stayed by Noctis' side, just as doomed to unhappiness as the rest of them but bearing it with the same grace. She assists in every new effort that Ignis or Noctis starts; through her they do gain everything they need to rebuild, to help others rebuild.
Sometimes, he thinks seeing the reports of towns flourishing, the letters they receive in from people they've helped over the years - he thinks that might be enough. Maybe this, and staying at Noctis side would be enough. Then, Noctis comes to him, once, twice, a dozen times and every time Ignis thinks no, I'll stop this while his body says I missed you, I missed us. It is rather like an addiction. He'd never picked up smoking, never liked alcohol enough to abuse it. But Noctis -- Noctis is an addiction all on his own. He makes it hours, days, weeks. Twice, he makes it a month before he breaks though he's not even sure he can count those - both were trips when he was away supporting the crown. When he got home it always ended quickly. During those periods, he tries to be responsible. He dates. He tries to make meaningful connections out in this new world that they've sacrificed everything to build.
The men and women he date aren't bad. He's still friends with two of them - one a professor at the local college, who Ignis consults on various matters here and there, and another a doctor, a pediatrician. He owes it to himself during these...breaks, doesn't he? To look into what else -- who else is out there. In a lot of ways, it's almost like a death and Ignis thinks that if he'd died, Noctis is the kind of man who wouldn't have wanted Ignis to grieve forever at his grave. He needs to move on, and while the dates aren't bad, they're just...there. No spark, no connection. Maybe he's too focused on Noctis, maybe he's too picky, maybe maybe maybe. A thousand maybes but none of them matter, because Ignis keeps repeating the same damn cycle over and over again.
Over time, Aranea's work brings her in Ignis' path often enough that work finds its way into the bedroom during these periods. It's simple; they both know that nothing will happen outside of the bedroom and they both leave whatever does happen in there behind. It's the simplest thing in his life, somehow, doing the dreaded mix of business and passion. Funny how that works, hm, Aranea purrs, and leaves a perfect set of teeth imprinted against the meat of his back from where she's got him pushed against the wall. Let's just focus on the passion side, then.
They never linger for too long; both of them are on borrowed time, but it's nice to linger afterward. To press his face into the curve of her throat and let himself drift for a few moments before the tackiness of sweat drives him crazy and he rises to shower. There's a thick folder of paperwork on his desk now - the latest reports from the hunters she's coordinating in each town as a sort of extension of the crown, keeping the outer areas safe from anyone trying to pick them off. In the time it takes Ignis to slide back into his underwear and start looking through it before his shower, Aranea dresses and makes her way out, hood pulled high, dressed in something fairly shapeless, uninterested in anyone seeing her comings and goings.
It's been barely a few moments when the door opens and Ignis sighs, running a hand through sweat-damp, sex-mussed hair, only making it worse. ]
Did you leave something be-- ah.
[ Not Aranea at all, but his king. Wonderful. Ignis tucks the paperwork under his arm to file and resists the urge to cover himself. Noctis has seen him naked too many times to count. Noctis has seen him undone underneath him too many times to count. He shouldn't feel embarrassed. Noctis is the one bursting into his room without so much as a knock, and a little sharp, Ignis starts gathering his clothes from where Aranea had dropped them and wouldn't allow him to retrieve them. ]
If you're not going to be knocking, should I leave a sock on the handle so you don't interrupt anything?
LAUGHS AWFULLY
Not when it's not just one land at risk for his foolishness, but two.
It will usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, the news claims on the radio in the morning. Ignis resists the urge ti throw his dagger through the blasted thing.
ALLIANCE SECURED - WEDDING DATE TBD! A newspaper cheerfully states, listing profiles of the king and princess directly after. It's not a flattering photograph of Noctis but it doesn't matter; he's beautiful either way, the line of his jaw, the blue of his eyes, the fall of his hair. Ignis sucks in a breath, holds it, and steels himself for what has to come.
( 'It's not that I think you haven't thought this through - I know you've thought about it every single direction you could,' Gladiolus says late one night, their shoulders brushing as they sit in front of the campfire; foolishly, Ignis had accepted the trip not realizing that this was, effectively, an ambush. 'But I know you. You've told the kid no a grand total of what, five times? If I'm bein' real fucking generous here, too. So you're telling me that this-- with this you're going to tell him no for the rest of your life? You're gonna sit there at his shoulder as his right arm and tell him no and you think that's...gonna work.' )
At the time, Ignis had been furious and stung that Gladiolus went through all of this effort just to say he doubted him, but under all of that was the awful sense of agreement. He doesn't think he can last forever with him like this, but he doesn't trust himself to last forever without him like this, either.
It would be easier, Ignis thinks bitterly, if Octavia weren't someone who he genuinely liked. She wanted to like Noctis, she arguably did like him because he was terribly easy to love like that, but she also didn't fight this. He could respect her quiet certainty, the way that she stayed by Noctis' side, just as doomed to unhappiness as the rest of them but bearing it with the same grace. She assists in every new effort that Ignis or Noctis starts; through her they do gain everything they need to rebuild, to help others rebuild.
Sometimes, he thinks seeing the reports of towns flourishing, the letters they receive in from people they've helped over the years - he thinks that might be enough. Maybe this, and staying at Noctis side would be enough. Then, Noctis comes to him, once, twice, a dozen times and every time Ignis thinks no, I'll stop this while his body says I missed you, I missed us. It is rather like an addiction. He'd never picked up smoking, never liked alcohol enough to abuse it. But Noctis -- Noctis is an addiction all on his own. He makes it hours, days, weeks. Twice, he makes it a month before he breaks though he's not even sure he can count those - both were trips when he was away supporting the crown. When he got home it always ended quickly. During those periods, he tries to be responsible. He dates. He tries to make meaningful connections out in this new world that they've sacrificed everything to build.
The men and women he date aren't bad. He's still friends with two of them - one a professor at the local college, who Ignis consults on various matters here and there, and another a doctor, a pediatrician. He owes it to himself during these...breaks, doesn't he? To look into what else -- who else is out there. In a lot of ways, it's almost like a death and Ignis thinks that if he'd died, Noctis is the kind of man who wouldn't have wanted Ignis to grieve forever at his grave. He needs to move on, and while the dates aren't bad, they're just...there. No spark, no connection. Maybe he's too focused on Noctis, maybe he's too picky, maybe maybe maybe. A thousand maybes but none of them matter, because Ignis keeps repeating the same damn cycle over and over again.
Over time, Aranea's work brings her in Ignis' path often enough that work finds its way into the bedroom during these periods. It's simple; they both know that nothing will happen outside of the bedroom and they both leave whatever does happen in there behind. It's the simplest thing in his life, somehow, doing the dreaded mix of business and passion. Funny how that works, hm, Aranea purrs, and leaves a perfect set of teeth imprinted against the meat of his back from where she's got him pushed against the wall. Let's just focus on the passion side, then.
They never linger for too long; both of them are on borrowed time, but it's nice to linger afterward. To press his face into the curve of her throat and let himself drift for a few moments before the tackiness of sweat drives him crazy and he rises to shower. There's a thick folder of paperwork on his desk now - the latest reports from the hunters she's coordinating in each town as a sort of extension of the crown, keeping the outer areas safe from anyone trying to pick them off. In the time it takes Ignis to slide back into his underwear and start looking through it before his shower, Aranea dresses and makes her way out, hood pulled high, dressed in something fairly shapeless, uninterested in anyone seeing her comings and goings.
It's been barely a few moments when the door opens and Ignis sighs, running a hand through sweat-damp, sex-mussed hair, only making it worse. ]
Did you leave something be-- ah.
[ Not Aranea at all, but his king. Wonderful. Ignis tucks the paperwork under his arm to file and resists the urge to cover himself. Noctis has seen him naked too many times to count. Noctis has seen him undone underneath him too many times to count. He shouldn't feel embarrassed. Noctis is the one bursting into his room without so much as a knock, and a little sharp, Ignis starts gathering his clothes from where Aranea had dropped them and wouldn't allow him to retrieve them. ]
If you're not going to be knocking, should I leave a sock on the handle so you don't interrupt anything?