nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

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.

[ Ignis exhales slowly, rising up, looking down at her. She's too good for any of them, truthfully. She deserves better than this mess and at least with this, perhaps she'll get it. Any one would be lucky to have her eye.

The paperwork is gathered up once more, tucked neatly against his chest like it's something precious - in a lot of ways, it is. He isn't certain in this moment if thanking her is something that will come across how he wants it to ( thank you for letting us try again, thank you for understanding, thank you for not hating him ) so instead, he inclines his head one more time. ]

I hope you'll reach out to me if you need anything in the coming weeks. I'll deliver the paperwork to all of the appropriate parties in the morning.

I will, if necessary.

[ She gets to her feet, and the message is clear: their little session is over. She doesn't miss how he holds the documents against his chest like they're precious, like they mean the world to him, and this time her smile is more genuine, even if a touch of sadness lingers. The man must have endured so much, himself. The year away from Noctis must not be easy -- much less the knowledge that they have had a child in his absence. ]

I don't think he ever stopped thinking about you. [ She murmurs. ] And I'm sure you two will have a lot to talk about. He should have a slot freed up tomorrow morning at breakfast -- you may send him my apologies.

[ A better woman than any of them deserve.

Ignis doesn't flinch, but it's a close thing. The mention of Noctis is still tender, the wound reopened after seeing that paperwork, after being presented with the potential to make up for lost time. He'd be a fool not to pursue this after how much they'd fought to get here, after how miserable they've both been but at the same time, he's not sure that it can even work with how things are.

The first step is to make certain that Noctis is made aware of what's happened and what it means going forward. The next is making certain that everything is taken care of with regards to the country. Anything personal will fall into place afterward. Ignis nods one more time and bids her a good night.

He's going to be groggy come morning, but he has to read everything as soon as he gets back to his room. It takes hours, going over every single sheet, making certain that there is nothing he's missed. It's all in place, though. She's done a neat job of it, ensuring that every possible thing has been considered, leaving them with nothing to worry about. He spends another hour sending emails, coordinating housing and moving expenses into the budget and ensuring that these things are taken care of when she wants.

Then, finally, he sleeps. When he wakes in the morning an hour before breakfast, he finishes sending all of the paperwork off and resigns himself to the endless parade of meetings he'll hold on her behalf; he can spare her this, at the very least. A shower makes him feel more human, a few cans of Ebony has him mildly more awake. He doesn't bother styling his hair up; he has practice with Gladiolus after lunch, there's no point when sweat will just make a mess of it. Two checks in the mirror before he leaves and another check in the mirrored walls of the elevator because he's nervous as shit and doesn't want to admit it and then the elevator dings.

Breakfast takes care of itself, thankfully - all he had to do was let them know that there were two people and not to be disturbed and it's all laid out in advance. Ignis slips into the room and settles a small stack of paperwork at Noctis' spot at the table and then takes one across from him, pouring himself a fresh cup while he waits. ]

[ Noctis is forced to be a morning person by necessity, which is another thing that he's settling into. The breakfast settled at the dining table is meant for Octavia and him both before they started for the day. Fiddling with his cufflinks, he eschews the royal raiment for a fitted suit. Black, sleek, with a skull neatly pinned to his tie. The minutes of meetings had come in early today, and he has half a mind to request for them at the table if Octavia didn't mind, but what makes him stop short when he enters with one of his aides is Ignis himself, sitting there across from him.

Ignis, more handsome than he's ever seen him. More tired, too -- he's pretty sure those are eyebags, and it's a sin for him to look as good as he always does, his hair swept down in a look that sends so many hearts aflutter within the Citadel. Surely he must know the effect he has on anyone with functioning vision. Surely he must know the looks he draws, and how Ignis draws him so helplessly into it.

His heart leaps into his throat, and he swallows. He hasn't been expecting him. He had been planning to figure shit out enough to approach him, to do something about it -- Cor had taken him aside and spoken with him at length about his chamberlain and the state of matters between them, and he knows he can't avoid his own feelings forever. ]

Has something happened? Where's Octavia?

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