nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ I don't want this, Ignis says, and something breaks inside Noctis. There it is, the pain, wounded and raw, overriding every selfish thought Noctis has, every possessive desire, everything that makes him want to keep him with him. The king swallows hard, and finds that he can't quite look at him anymore. Ignis must be in such pain, if he's willing to want to leave him for it, and Noctis knows, he knows he cannot ask him to stay.

Something hot prickles behind his eyelids, and he looks away. Looks down. He doesn't want this either -- this is never what he wants, to hide Ignis like a guilty secret, to keep him by his side even though being near him hurts like nothing else he's ever known. ]

Then go. [ And it's the hardest thing to say, the words choking the life out of him. Once he leaves, he will be empty -- there really will be nothing here for him, save for the rigors of his duty. ] But... will you give me tonight?

[ The problem isn't that he doesn't want Noctis. The problem is that he wants too much. Ignis wants things that he knows he'll never be able to have, and while normally it's not a concern for him, this time it is. This time, the person he wants is next to him at almost all hours during the day, and when he's weak, at night. He could get used to it - he has gotten used to it and he needs to do better.

Please don't tell me no, don't ask me to stay, he pleads silently, willing Noctis to let this go. When he does -- when he agrees, Ignis isn't sure what to do with the sense of overwhelming disappointment. He hadn't wanted Noctis to fight him on it, but he also hadn't considered how final it would feel knowing that he was going to do this. He's not prone to split-second decisions. The paperwork had only been a consideration, but in the span of twenty minutes, his choice had been made. It was made the moment that Aranea gave him the option.

Noctis asks him for more directly after and Ignis closes his eyes again, strokes his hand over the line of his back, wishes things were different and then whispers, ] No. I don't think I can.

[ There's never just one more time with him. One more turns into another and another and another and while Ignis was always destined to follow Noctis to the ends of the world, he can't do this. ]

Octavia is a good woman. She'll likely be the mother of your children. Your country needs this to work.

[ Ignis denies him and Noctis says nothing, only curls up into him and closes his eyes, fighting tears -- he's a grown fucking man and this is a terrible showing. It's a terrible showing but in the same vein this is the love of his life, the first and the only, and perhaps the last. Octavia is a good woman, kind and clever and she deserves so much better than Noctis, wounded and too in love with someone else to be of much comfort.

He should go. He should leave instead of dragging this out, that it's better to just hurt all at once than to leave it limping, dragging. But he's always been the masochist, greedy for one last touch, one look. The way he breathes and the warmth of his hand. He says nothing, but he doesn't sleep, tucked in his arms. He wishes things were different too; he wishes for so many things, wants even more -- so much of it oriented around Ignis, and all of it now, finally, ended.

Noctis doesn't sleep. He stays in his arms quietly until the darkest hours pass, and he kisses his forehead and extricates himself from his arms. Goodbye, he wants to say, because he cannot pretend that this isn't an end. What he wants from Ignis, he can no longer have for both their sakes, and if Noctis had loved him any less he would have hated him for all of it.

He goes back to the royal bedchambers, climbs in next to Octavia. She takes him in her arms, sensing more than knowing-- the breadth of his hurt an open wound that calls to her. He lets her, and she tries not to think about how he smells like Ignis whenever they pass in the halls. She tries not to think about how his shoulders tremble, minute and barely noticeable in her arms, and how warm, wet tears that are not her own stain the fabric of the nightdress she wears. They don't talk about it -- in fact, they don't talk about anything at all. She holds him until she sleeps, and hours later, she has her answer.

Ignis Scientia is leaving Lucis, employed on a contract on an indefinite basis. She listens, and her husband is nowhere to be found when the adviser departs. There is a sense of defeat about it all, a sadness in the set of Ignis' shoulders that she's no stranger to, and she doesn't need Noctis to tell him anything to know, to understand. Ignis is leaving her husband, and, as the days become weeks to months, she realizes that he's taken her husband's heart with him, too. She does her best to mend what's left, but it's difficult to look upon him when he takes his own grief as a companion, when it stays with him and underscores all that he is. He's lonely again, isolated in ways she cannot reach, and there are days when she's furious that he would take her heart along with him, too.

Things would be so much easier if they weren't about love.

But she does her best. Fulfills her duties as Queen, bridging both countries and setting up foundations for a stronger, more lasting peace. They work well together, Noctis and her -- they share similar thoughts, similar passions; a drive to make things better for their people, with an eye for the big picture. She establishes more alliances together with him, and eventually, one day, she becomes pregnant. Noctis smiles for the first time in weeks, genuine and warm, and even if the sadness isn't driven completely from his eyes, she considers this an acceptable turn of events.

He's attentive with her, caring. He makes sure she has everything she needs, but Noctis doesn't love her. She understands this even when it hurts, especially when it hurts; that Noctis could never belong to her. He does right by her, even if whispers had reached her ears about her husband and a dalliance with another lover, a scholar; tall, smart, accomplished and handsome. When she sees him in court one day, green eyes warm behind his glasses, she finds her truth and his. But it's dispelled after that, like a dream -- she will never know that Noctis had said the wrong name in bed; and this man who had shared his bed with the king had swiftly, quietly removed himself from his side. Noctis does the best he can with what he has -- rules well and does what is best by his people. He works harder than anyone else, and even if he listens for news about Ignis, even if Octavia on the occasion provides him with updates, he doesn't allow himself to hope.

Something in his heart withers, heartache set deep in his bones and immovable, putting lie to the adage that time will mend all wounds. Time has mended nothing for Noctis, barely touched what festers, hidden away carefully. He misses him in all the great and small ways, in the way their touches had been so casual, how Ignis, ever at his side, had been more than just a lover. He was partner and soulmate, a companion that completed him.

In his absence, Noctis doesn't know what to do with himself but devote all that he is completely to the kingdom. He keeps little for himself -- and what little there is, he still doesn't quite know what to do with. The comic books in the library go unread; Ignis' last gift to him, steeped with too many memories. He drifts, unmoored when he isn't conducting royal duties or busying himself with their new child.

A girl, he is told, and in her he finds a measure of happiness.

Soon, Octavia gives birth, and it's one of the happiest days in his life; but the day draws near when Ignis is to return, and Noctis doesn't even begin to know what to feel about it -- anticipating and dreading it all the same; Ignis had left to get away from him, to end this thing between them. The number of times he had attempted to text him, to send him emails, or even the occasional greetins had gone aborted. They didn't talk about it, did they, the new parameters of whatever it's decided to be? Prompto and Gladio are good on their own, and he depends on them more than he would if Ignis had been around, but there's nothing to be done for that now. They don't talk about Ignis in front of Noctis -- and perhaps they'd known, too, why he had to leave.

The princess is three months old when Ignis returns, and Noctis keeps his distance when he pays a visit to the Queen and the baby, dark-haired with the bluest eyes. Noctis, who longs more than anything to see him, to hold him again, only offers a distant greeting before he's swept up by his ministers. He doesn't see him for longer than that, eschewing his presence at meetings. He's not ready, he thinks. He's not ready to see him again.

Octavia prompts, one night. Tells him that it's obvious that he's pining. Go and say hello, properly. Noctis only smiles that sad smile, and puts Luna to bed. Octavia, dissatisfied and displeased, informs him that she would prefer to sleep alone for the night. Noctis says nothing, but uses the spare bedroom he does when there's too much work and heading back to the royal chambers is too far a walk. They don't sleep in the same bed for days, and Ignis' presence back at the Citadel becomes something resembling normal again. They need him, Octavia knows. They need him more than anything. Noctis is never seen in the vicinity when Ignis is around, and Octavia wonders if the man's developed some sort of ability to slip out seconds before Ignis enters; or enter just after he leaves.

She decides that she doesn't want to know, but she cannot help the anger that stirs in the pit of her stomach. She tends to her daughter, and Ignis assists, rendering impeccable aid and providing even better company. To think that she had once envied him his position -- how she wanted what he had, how much she desired Noctis' love the way he so easily claimed his. Now, it seems like too much of a mess, and she tires of it. Ignis is pleasant to talk to, and as days go by she understands why Noctis would love him to the exclusion to all else. Ignis, too, is easy to love. He charms, his thoughtfulness second to none, and that warm, low voice speaks volumes. If she had not loved Noctis so, perhaps she would have fallen for him, too.

But tonight, she summons Ignis, a sheaf of papers laid out neatly on the coffeetable before him. She had acquired these in secret three months before the birth of Luna, had wavered -- had thought that she could be used to this, that as long as she had her husband by her side, she wouldn't need his heart, his love. But things don't work that way, do they? She's seen the way he looks at Ignis when he thinks nobody's looking -- those eyes full of painful, awful longing, filled with a depth of emotion Octavia knew she could never have.

And she is nothing if not a practical woman -- it's pointless to hold on what can never be yours. Cracking open an expensive bottle of wine, she pours just a glass for herself, shelving her own heartache to prepare for this inevitable talk. They had loved each other since the beginning, Octavia knows -- they had loved each other since they were children, and while Ignis was the affair, the dirty little secret, she knows better than anyone else that the story isn't all that simple. In this story, she's the interloper even if neither one of them saw it that way. Their duty to their people had broken them apart, and Noctis doesn't seem to be able to know how to repair himself despite best attempts. Octavia, the Queen, now understands that she wants no further part in this. Better one gets hurt than all three -- better her husband finds his moorings; Octavia isn't too far gone that she would allow her heart to be crippled the way his has, the way Ignis has.

Men, she thinks, are more fragile than they often let on; and for all their preening, they fall quite short of so much.

So she waits for Ignis, and nods when he has leave to enter. ] Chamberlain. Sit.

[ Do you swear your fealty, do you promise to protect the crown in any and every way you can, will you always do your duty? They're a series of questions that he'd seen written in a Crownsguard class room for the younger children. The ones whose families were close enough with the crown that their positions were guaranteed. He, too, had gone through classes like this, raised in the certainty that where others may wonder or just not know, he did. He had a purpose from his birth. His purpose was one his family had held to for years, each new Lucis child working with the child of a Scientia.

Had he wanted to, he could have had his pick of any job, back then. Trained for the Crown but not required for it-- if he had chosen to leave and further his studies for a while, he had a sister that could take over. She would need additional training, but the option was open for it, if he needed. He'd never needed. From the moment that he met Noctis, he'd been sure that this is where he was meant to be.

Gladiolus talked to him about it, once. Prompto and Noctis were still curled up in the tent, laying over each other like puppies that had played too much and were tired out. Gladiolus and Ignis were outside the tent, the former drinking a beer, the latter nursing a coffee while he stroked the feathered head of his chocobo, and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. You ever think about leaving? About how maybe this wasn't meant for you, despite the whole family...business?

Ignis had debated it a few moments, wondering if Gladiolus was beginning to doubt now that things had really gone to shit, but no. A glance over at him reveals that Gladiolus is watching him almost knowingly, amber eyes steady, not guilty. Maybe before, but I don't really recall back that early. I just know that I want to be here by his side. My duty hasn't changed even if the specific situation may have. You're Noctis's Shield, but I-

You're his right hand, Iggy, Gladiolus had finished quietly, and oh, he realized. That was a knowing look, because he wanted to talk about that. Ignis grimaced, patting his chocobo on the head and waved it off before it could even start. My duty is to be at his side in whatever capacity he requires and I haven't failed that yet.

Nah, I mean. If anything it seems like you're real intent on doing your duty, Gladiolus had said with a nod at the tent, and Ignis' face had flamed. Gladiolus always was better about talking him into things, at shaking him out of his own head when he was being a fool. If only he had the power to do this now, but no. Ignis fall asleep to the unsteady sound of Noctis' breathing and when he wakes, he's alone.

When he sends Noctis' schedule a reminder notification of his departure the next morning, he's alone until Gladiolus and Prompto show up to hug him goodbye fiercely. He's still got quite a few of his duties - it's an extended work trip, where during the base hours he works with Aranea's men and the time difference means he can still make conference calls for anything involving Lucis. The kind of running away teenage you would've been proud of, Gladiolus says into his ear, squeezing his shoulder. It's enough to jar him, to make him hiss out a breath, angry that he'd do this but Gladiolus doesn't look smug or knowing, he looks sad. Like he figured this was going to happen and he's disappointed in it.

Well, if he and Noctis were going to be disappointed with how things went, why not add Gladiolus to the list. Make it a full set and add Prompto.

The trip there is easy, despite the way he's in turns furious at himself and the reactions to this, and desperately, horribly tired, wanting this period of aching to be over. It's not enough that he can go a thousand miles away from Noctis and bring everything important to him; Noctis still has a grip on his heart even this far away. It's too much. But the work out here is good work, it's important work for the Crown in a different way and the business of all of it distracts him. He doesn't flourish, but he does well. He balances both sets of duties, provides immaculate records on time and works himself to the bone in a way that he would never get sick of.

He and Aranea linger together when they can - their schedules are often opposite but they stay in the same room, because despite not being in a relationship neither of them are interested in fucking anyone else. Aranea because it's time-consuming and boring, and Ignis, because he doesn't have time outside of work. He could marry her, maybe. It'd make sense the older they get, as they know they can deal with each other for long periods, in confined spaces. He'd let her do whatever she wanted with her job and he'd be free to work how he liked. It would be comfortable.

It's never suggested, but Aranea grabs him when he even edges close to the subject, shaking her head. You're cutting an hour out of your day or I am, and you're going to go out. You said this was to help you move on, so move on.

Strangely, it does help. He meets more people this far away. None that he's particularly interested in but plenty that he becomes shockingly good friends with. He writes to the people that he dated in Lucis that he got along with, too - against all odds, this year is the one where he talks to people the most, out of any of them. He maintains friendships and remembers how to exist on his own, in a capacity. Truthfully, he thought he'd feel as lost as he does that first month but things settle into a very acceptable sort of middling ground. Nothing exceptional, but it's passable. It's a distraction.

It's enough that when the contract ends, he holds off on signing. He ought to go back. There's a child, now, and he misses all of them fiercely. Aranea tells him the contract will wait; this should be a vacation. Two months, and if he's back at the end then she'll know right away he's taking the job. At first he thinks it'll be too much to come home; he's felt lost without Noctis so close, but email and phones being up again means that he can do his job just as well remote. They're not fighting to save Noctis' life constantly any longer. He doesn't need to worry.

My duty hasn't changed even if the scenery has.

The first night is a good one - the Crownsguard take him out drinking and while he barely drinks more than a bottle and a few shots others buy for him, it's good to see everyone again. Prompto goes through pictures, Cor buys him a shot of something that smells good, but extremely spicy and then presses a hand to his shoulder. I'm asking you for Regis' sake, and the King's. Corner him if you have to but don't let him be an idiot.

It's shockingly close to something some would almost call treason, but that's not what gets Ignis. It's the fact that a moment later, Cor tilts their shot glasses together and says, Regis would've wanted him happy and he knew that was with you.

It's an older wound, but one that's still tender. This is where Gladiolus learned to strike so deeply with his words; Cor the Immortal's had a long time to learn how to make them hurt but not disable. He takes the advice for what it is and rejoins the party after purchasing a round for all of them. In the morning, despite the rowdiness, he's up and taking stock of everything. Their replacement Chamberlain - not his sister, but more a mix of people taking on the duties in the castle, is not...bad. It's just not as efficient as having someone who knows them this well. He steps into place like a whirlwind and soon enough things fall into place, but there's no Noctis. Cor was right, he might have to go after him. A few weeks, that's what he'll give it and then chase him if needed. In the meantime, he has no end to what he can occupy his time with and with Noctis missing, he finds he's spending more time with Octavia.

It's not far for her to see any of the hurts he's buried deeply, so he keeps everything about Noctis cooly professional. He's wonderful with Luna, and it's clear he genuinely adores her right away. He presents Octavia with a present he'd picked her up where he was - close enough to the Empire that he could take a trip to an old candy factory that she had mentioned she liked, back before the darkness. It's up and running, even if it doesn't have distribution back, which means he brings her a whole box of it to tide her over.

The night she asks him over, he's come fresh from three different meetings the state of the household and different things he thinks they should adjust and edit in his time gone. It's productive, but he's tired and looks it, slipping into the room two minutes early instead of five; he'd gotten caught in the hallway. ]

I apologize that I was almost late; I forgot the immediate change once you're readily accessible.

You're still early, you know.

[ Octavia points out simply. Like Noctis, she's not predisposed to airs, but there's a polish to her that speaks of her elevated station despite the casual nature of this meeting. Ignis looks run ragged, exhausted -- she knows for a fact that her stubborn husband has eschewed his presence in meetings. Where he had once sought his counsel, he now chooses to cut it off, much to her irritation. Ignis does his best, and under his lead the household runs much more smoothly. Now, if only she could get a hold of the secretaries that run Noctis' schedule, to bend their ear to give their king a break once in awhile. The problem being that the King, being an idiot, often finds matters of state to involve himself in.

It's not new for Noctis to travel incognito, to head to places that most need rebuilding and spend a few days there. Or visit the chocobo ranch or a whole host of cat shelters, but that had been the extent of it. Noctis is not predisposed to making friends easily despite his gentle nature, and Octavia cannot help but feel for her wayward husband. Cor Leonis feels similar, as does his friends, she knows, but when Noctis is determined to withdraw, there is precious few that can reach him.

Tonight, he's in a conference with a few ambassadors to Nifleheim, a conference Noctis had requested to be brought forward to fill up the space in his schedule. She wonders if it's to avoid Ignis, or to give himself to do. She's not quite sure anymore. Reaching for the wine bottle, she raises it and gestures towards the empty glass. ]

Thank you for making time to see me. Would you like a drink?

[ On his own calendar, a week from today is a blank spot. One hour is set aside to talk to Noctis. From there, there are another three hours settled and then the easiest of meetings after. Either he's going to need those three hours to settle himself down from the ache of what could be a very final end to their relationship, or it will be uncomfortable, but bearable, and they'll continue as they have so far. Which is to say, not seeking each other out, and Ignis...leaves again? He's not sure - if Noctis won't even talk to him, that's something else entirely.

Leaving or staying won't fix that. There's nothing he can do until he has the talk, though, and secretly he can hope that maybe Noctis will take the time out of his day to say something, but no. His schedule is always full and Ignis doesn't push at it, not wanting to touch something so raw right now.

Octavia, somehow, is easier. It's a strange world.

He settles across from her, glancing from her to the wine, hesitating a brief moment before agreeing to take a glass. ]

I know, but I also know that five minutes where we're both free is rare, so I was trying to get here a little earlier to save you it for later. It's fine. Thank you for the wine, Your Majesty. What can I do?

[ Noctis misses him. He misses him too much to trust himself anywhere near Ignis. He catches glimpses of him, his gaze lingers when he thinks no one's looking closely enough to notice, but he gets nothing past Prompto, who nudges him to talk to him, to close that distance again -- it's the only way they can fix things. His friends are worried, and Gladio definitely tried the tough love route; but the king is no longer a boy to be pushed around, and the fallout had threatened to crack open the bond that they shared together.

He looks at the slot on his calendar, the time set aside for Ignis that one of his secretaries had put in -- ostensibly through pressure from Octavia. His queen has never directly intervened except for pressing circumstances, and he wonders if this is one that she's considered an extraordinary matter. In the meantime, however, Octavia regards him for a moment. Ignis is polite, professional, and a part of her wonders how he's taking this separation, how Noctis had seemed determined to enforce distance no matter his obvious feelings about his return.

Does he see fit to venture back out again? Surely it will be to her benefit, but it will be Noctis and the Citadel that suffers. Even so, a part of her is reluctant -- it would be so easy to turn a blind eye and pretend nothing is going on under her watch. It would be easy to continue this charade, but to what end? Their love keeps her shackled here, a burden she does not wish to bear, and she reaches for the clipped sheaf of papers. At the top of the neatly printed stack, the heading is obvious enough. ]

I would like you to convey my intentions to my husband, and the Council. I will be initiating divorce proceedings.

[ There's a stack of papers on the table and idly, he tries to go through the list of what he's provided her to figure out if there's anything he's missed or that was not adequately handled. It isn't as if he thinks he's in trouble, but it is perplexing that he wouldn't have been told if he'd made any errors, or if she needed any special assistance. His job is as much to serve her and their daughter as it is to serve his king.

But no, what he expects and what he gets are two entirely different things.

At first he thinks he's misheard. There's no possible way that she's truly looking into divorce - she knows her country needs this alliance and their marriage as much as Lucis. It's possible that he's misread her, that he's miscalculated in his protection of the king and she's grown tired of this, but he hadn't...really considered that as an option. Rather than allow himself to jump to conclusions despite how easy it would be, he takes the wine and curls his fingers around it tightly, taking a long drink. ]

I...can of course. Have you already spoken with Noctis about this? He -- I know things have been difficult here, from what I've heard, but I was not aware they could be this...bad.

[ It's a tentative tendril extended to her - a question, probing to see if that's what's going on here, if she's desperately unhappy or if maybe there's something else at play here. ]

You are aware, aren't you? My husband is still in love with you.

[ There's the elephant in the room they must address, and Octavia gains nothing by beating around the bush. She's clear-eyed, raising her head to meet his gaze. Her face is a mask of dignified neutrality, even if the long sip she takes of her wine betrays just a little. Things would be easier if not for love. ] It didn't work, did it? What you tried to do.

[ She sees it in Noctis' eyes, and in his as well. She's taking his measure, wonders if it's worth giving it up. She has a daughter to consider, even if the groundwork has been laid for Nifleheim and Lucis to move towards interests that go beyond the outdated concept of arranged marriages. No, businesses linked to each other will find a way, and she's only just concluded the trade agreement together with Noctis, let it sit long enough for ties to be made. Businessmen respond to money more than the concept of patriotism, she understands it perfectly.

Crossing her legs, the queen leans back. ] Do you really not know?

[ This is why he likes her. She treats all situations with the same sort of grace, but she doesn't hesitate to go straight for the throat. Ignis smiles thinly, glancing from her to the paperwork, not saying anything about the equally long drink she has from her glass. It can't be easy for her, whatever she needs to do. He understands that. ]

I can't tell if it hasn't worked at all or if I've miscalculated and it's worked too well.

[ If Noctis wants nothing to do with him, then so be it. Ignis is the one who left. He has no delusions about anything he's...owed. That said, the idea of losing Noctis is a nauseating one. If things are going to be like this forever, he's not going to stay. Maybe they need more time.

It's the inverse of before. Where Ignis had waited for ten years to see Noctis come back, Noctis has evidently waited one and found it too much. Ignis can't say he blames him. The one year felt a thousand times worse than the ten, sometimes. ]

I'm sorry. Truly. Neither of us had any intention of things...interfering with this new world that we have tried to build. It's my fault, for not breaking it off sooner once he had married you. I thought the time away would make things...easier when I tried to come back. I've never been as practiced at telling Noctis no as I would like; distance would help, I thought. If it's made things worse, know that was never my intent.

We both know the issue was never in the timing, or your inability to tell him no.

[ Octavia has come to know Noctis very well in the past many months, and even though she's a partner in this marriage, she's been afforded a unique look from the outside, a view she had resented -- and perhaps still does, just a little. What woman does not want to be loved, what woman does not want her marriage to work? Unfortunately, their brat of a King had entirely different plans. She smiles wanly at that comment, before she lifts the bottle and refills his glass. Has it worked too well? Octavia will never know. ]

I wanted to hate you for the longest time. [ She says finally, honest and unwavering. ] You hold his heart the way I can never hope to have.

[ Even in Ignis' absence, Octavia has lost to a shadow, a memory. A scholar who didn't know better and had come out of the other end hurting. ]

[ You don't know that, he wants to object. Maybe if he'd cut this off sooner, the wound would have healed faster. Ignis wouldn't still be holding onto pieces of Noctis' heart like a dragon hoarding gold, and Noctis would have been able to do his duty with it hurting him less. It's an unlikely thing, but Ignis is all out of ideas as to how to handle the future when he's fumbled with his attempts to handle the past. ]

I know. I would have understood if you did. [ He pauses, not quite sure where the line is between them, but between the wine, the late hour and the paperwork that she's coming to him with, he assumes that line is far. ] I was... not prepared, necessarily, to dislike you, but concerned that it wouldn't be an easy adjustment. That it was a farce, that it was another attempt to hurt Noctis. Instead, you've done wonders with what we've tried to accomplish, and none of this has been fair to you.

[ He makes no attempt to deny it, though he wonders these days just how much of Noctis' heart he holds. It can't be the same amount as before, not if Noctis is taking such great pains to avoid him. ]

If I could make it easier on all of us and relinquish it I - [ He starts. Stops. Looks embarrassed at himself, hiding it behind the wine glass. Softer, now, the apology written in his tone, in the slope of his shoulders. ] I don't think I could. I've loved him since I understood what love was. I've been with him since we were young. I've been his before I even fully understood what that could mean. We've loved each other fiercely, but love Lucis, the rest of the world, more. We've given up so much to get here, I don't know how to relinquish this, or if I would if I knew how.

Edited 2018-01-02 10:10 (UTC)

[ This is what love looks like, fierce as a storm and gentle as a breeze, a constant lodged in both their hearts. The queen listens, watching the play of emotions across his face. It occurs to her that he must not notice how his professional demeanor falls away like snow in coming spring when he speaks of Noctis, of the love that had shared before she came along. It strikes a bitter chord in her, but Octavia has enough presence of mind to understand that what she does with this bitterness, this love that would forever be out of her reach -- that is the only thing that matters. ]

I have done wonders, that's true.

[ It does no one any favours to assume humility; Octavia has never been skewed that way. She is gentle only because she wishes to be, not because it is expected of her. She sets down her glass and rises, stepping towards him. It's easy to reach down, to curl her fingers, elegant and soft and long, over his chin, lifting his face up to hers. He is a very beautiful man, even more so when he speaks of the king. How she must be the interloper in this affair, which is the height of irony, all things considered.

She softens, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. ] I see why he only has eyes for you. [ And how he has no space in his heart for any other. ] Fair is what we make of it. Nothing's ever fair.

[ He's never been the best at hiding his feelings when it comes to the then prince, now king. He's never had to, not when his duties were so firmly intertwined with that love. Regis may not have recognized it for what it was or what it could be, fledgling as it was at the time, but he had known that there was no one better to protect his son and Ignis had never wanted to leave.

Six, he hadn't wanted to leave this time but love for their country was the only thing greater than the love he held for Noctis himself and that would always have to come first. ]

Majesty -

[ It comes out soft, apologetic as she rises and comes to him. She's beautiful and strong and every inch the queen Lucis needs; it would have been easy for Ignis to understand why Noctis had moved on during his absence, if he had. The hand around his glass tightens briefly, the only showing of his discomfort, hesitation. ]

He's lucky to have you, as we all are.

[ Things would be different, were she not the woman she was. ]

You've made allowances far past what is to be expected. Fairness isn't something any of us expect but that doesn't mean you aren't due it, as well.

And what would that look like, this due fairness?

[ Ignis' eloquence is becoming -- it's not difficult for her to see the clout he has in discussions, how he's easily the greatest asset in Lucis. She releases him after a moment, moving past towards the desk by the window. On it lies a familiar magazine that has found its way to her desk, emblazoned with crass speculation about the King of Lucis' proclivities, the face of his lover splashed across the cover, bearing a striking resemblance to Ignis himself. It had broken her heart when she'd seen it, to know that Noctis had not put Ignis out of his mind at all, no matter the nights he'd spent in her bed.

He would never be hers.

She picks it up and hands it over to him when she circles back to her seat, wineglass in hand. She drains the entire thing, feeling the languid burn of it down her throat. ]

You've been briefed on this, I assume.

I don't know.

[ There are thoughts he doesn't dare entertain because they'll ache too much. This is one of them. He won't do this to himself, not when he knows that fairness isn't something they can measure their lives by, not anymore. An easier question, maybe, would be what he wants, but even that he's not certain of.

Octavia moves toward the desk and Ignis stares at the paperwork as if he could understand its contents through simply being close to it but then she brings something else instead. The magazine is one he's familiar with; he'd been kept in all of the email chains at his request but this one he hadn't touched. It wasn't his place, or perhaps it was too much. He can't make apologies for Noctis and doesn't try, but he does take the magazine and doesn't watch her drain her glass. ]

I saw. I wasn't certain if it was true or not. I thought by leaving, it would eliminate any -- temptation. On my part or his.

How wrong we both were. Our King finds his comforts where he will.

[ She says quietly as settles back in, refills her glass but sets it aside. How wrong they were to assume that Noctis would turn to her after he removes himself for the equation. That Noctis' stubborn nature hadn't quite factored into their calculations, that despite that one sure, easy way available to him, he would choose the difficult road, narrow and filled with thorns, littered with broken hearts and a profound loneliness she thinks he finds some sort of refuge in.

It's the only thing that explains his latest bout of... whatever this is. Sometimes Octavia doesn't understand him. She takes a breath, knows that she has to hold it together; if not for her own sake then for her child's. It's a difficult path for her to tread, when yielding is so often seen as weakness. ] He hasn't been the same since you left. To continue like this is not the answer. The one he needs by his side is not me, it's you. And, I've noticed, you feel similarly.

It doesn't seem as if he's found much.

[ The affair with the man who shared his face hadn't lasted long from what he could tell, but any amount of time was still too much for a king that was married with a child. His disappointment in Noctis has bearing on the situation, though. The divorce paperwork sits between them, the other elephant in the room now that he's answered to his faults. ]

I was -- I am prepared to leave again. I promised someone that I would give him another week and then seek him out if he won't see me, to try and talk to him. Maybe I can help...salvage something.

[ Salvage this, keep this from going to shit any more than it has. Ignis is openly apologetic as he looks at her, shifting his glass from hand to hand before he catches the nervous gesture and forces himself to stop. ]

My duty is to him. It may not always take the shape of what either of us want, but I'm prepared for that.

[ A lie. He's not. He doesn't think he'll ever be. ]

You mistake me. This divorce is for my benefit as much as it is his.

[ She leans forward, setting the wineglass aside. Octavia is steady, taking in the nervous tic. ] And, I assume, yours. My work establishing trading links and diplomatic ties between both countries is done. An alliance hinging on a marriage is outdated by now, don't you think?

[ A rhetorical question. She's not looking for an answer, because she's already moving forward. ] I didn't ask you here to offer yourself on the sacrificial altar. I asked you here to do your job.

[ The faintest tug of a smile at her red, red mouth. Initiate proceedings, to make sure it all goes smoothly. ] I will still have access to Luna, of course. And the accord with Nifleheim will proceed as agreed.

[ That, he understands. That she would pick her own happiness over this farce, he does support in a way, but there are logistical steps that he can't even begin to dream of. Has a Lucis Caleum ever gotten divorced? It wasn't something he was aware of ever happening; Regis had loved his wife fully and totally and it had never been a consideration.

With other people this conversation may be considered a threat. He'd thought that it was at first, but given the care with which she's delivered the news and the way they've talked, it's more as if she's honestly divorcing him for a normal reason couples get divorced. He'd...never considered that an option, before. It's beautifully simple, really. The important parts for the treaty are handled, and they have their mutual connection from one country to the next. It's been rather neatly tied up and if she divorces him, well. It isn't as if the alliance needs to stop. The realization hits him slower than he'd like and he stares at her, torn between shock and disbelief. ]

No, I -- I wouldn't dream of ever trying to do something like that. Of course. She's as much your daughter as his.

[ Give him a moment, the brilliant mind that Noctis loves so much is a little overwhelmed here. He doesn't need to ask if she's certain; he doesn't need to trust she's looked into the intricacies of this, to determine if it's valid, if she can do it. ]

I can speak to them tomorrow. If you'll let me know any changes internally you'd like made, I can make them.

[ A room, her items moved, whatever else. ]

Will you stay here?

[ There's always a first time for everything, Ignis -- just like there's a first time for a king who falls hopelessly in love with his royal chamberlain. But Octavia is reaching for a few more dossiers, files neatly documenting the details of different treaties and initiatives. It really is a pleasure to be working with someone just as efficient as she is, and she offers it to him. ]

All that Noctis and I have been working on together in the past year. [ To be honest, she had not anticipated an outcome like this; she had hoped that this could bring them closer together. But sometimes you don't get what you want, and this will have to do. ] I would prefer one of the villas nearby; there are projects I will be continuing to manage. The Employment Programme Noctis was working on, for one.

[ She tilts her head at him, bemused at how he's digesting everything, taking it in. She has no doubt he thought she would come with a threat, and perhaps a part of her intended to. But in the face of his words, this impeccable gentleness, it's difficult to be vicious. ] And there is the matter of being close enough to my daughter. [ A beat. ] Does this trouble you?

[ He takes the dossier carefully, wine glass settled onto the tiny decorative end table. It's thick - proof of all that they've accomplished in such a small time, especially while raising a child. An awful little voice points out that it's all they've accomplished while he was gone, but he shoves that down. It's proof he had set up everything adequately, not proof that they didn't need him.

Idly, he opens the first few pages and nods; it's all what he expected, she's nothing if not thorough and he's familiar with their work. ] One of the villas?

[ That makes him pause and weigh his words. He isn't certain if she means for the projects she's managing as a workspace, or if she means to move there, and worse: he's not sure how much truth he's able to dispense here without overstepping his boundaries. ]

Forgive me if this is -- overstepping, but if you do not intend to return home, I do think you would be more than welcome to stay in the Citadel. [ And here he pauses again - not uncomfortable, but choosing his words very, very carefully. ] Regis was often...distant from his son. He was there when he could be but it wasn't often and while Noctis is and has always been, terribly strong, it does...have an effect. I will support both of you in whatever you choose, but my official recommendation as Chamberlain and adviser would be that you take one of the living quarters in the Citadel, as well as one of the studies. It isn't as if we're lacking. My...recommendation as someone in this, ah, situation, is that you take care of yourself however you see fit and know that I will do everything in my power to ensure it's a comfortable transition. I know too well the ache of living in close contact while wanting.

[ Ignis is still needed, more than anything else -- especially if everything that's occurred in this year is anything to go by. Octavia is profoundly aware of how crucial he is, to Noctis, the Citadel, and Lucis. It's not often you see a man like him, who would give up what he loves for the sake of the greater good.

But his king, too stubborn to let him go -- single-mindedly seeking him in others -- given over to no one except this one before him. ]

He has you. I'm sure he'll be fine. [ She smiles briefly, even if it doesn't quite touch her eyes. The queen is not the one Noctis seeks to have by his side, they both know this. ] You may send my things to the villa within a week; I understand there's quite a lovely one half an hour away.

[ It feels like a failing, somehow. In some ways, this is the only solution that makes sense - an unhappy marriage, a situation that's become untenable, but in so many others Ignis is frustrated with Noctis for putting them here. He's done so much to further the goals they've set in place but here is where he stumbles. Here is where he has drawn the line. Ignis isn't sure if it'd do more harm than good to point this out to Noctis, but that would also require Noctis to even ... talk to him.

Gently, he stacks all of the paperwork together and then settles it off to the side so he can come to her, kneeling. His head bows, body inclining just briefly and then he looks up at her a moment later, not bothering to hide the regret in his tone; she's owed that much, at least. ]

Believe me when I say we are quite lucky to have you here. Both for the kingdom and Noctis.

[ Here is where he definitely draws the line. Here is where Noctis fails; he might be king, but he is still just a man, snared by emotions and in too deep to understand just how to let go. And so he serves, and he ends up hurting others along the way. Collateral, never malicious intent -- but intent never much matters in situations like these.

They are not gods, these kings. They're flawed, and Noctis would rather put his feet to the fire than walk away. Octavia looks down at him for a long moment, before she places a hand on his shoulder. The coming days, weeks will be difficult, but she is tired of being caught at a standstill; she is made for more, and she cannot spend her life in a marriage without love. ]

Please, rise. I'm afraid the task of caring for him is returned to you.

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