nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ 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?

[ The doors open and Ignis straightens from where he'd been bent over the table, looking at the different coffee creamers. It was different being back in the Citadel. Where with Aranea's men he was well taken care of, it was much closer to being constantly on the move and the coffee had been lackluster at best. This is ridiculously good. Nervously - though he'll never call it that, never, Ignis smooths a hand down the front of his shirt and stands at borderline attention, watching Noctis come into the room.

He looks every inch the king Ignis knew he would be. He's gorgeous, the suit fitted, the lines of his shoulders emphasized, the contrast of pale skin and blue eyes against the black of his suit jarring. Ignis has never stopped being in love with him and this is just another reminder. ]

She asked me to speak with you this morning. I thought we could over breakfast, as your schedule is open during this time.

[ You can't run away from this goes unsaid. ]

Ah.

[ Noctis tenses. That she would send him instead of turning up herself is not good news. Tense, and fighting to rein in thoughts that have absolutely nothing to do with breakfast and everything to do with the man before him, he takes a seat. The coffee goes ignored -- that's usually Octavia's thing, anyway, and he pops the tab on the soda that's sitting by his plate. ]

All right. [ Dread coils in the pit of his stomach -- he's in no way prepared for this, for him. To deal with everything that's threatened to rear its head in his proximity. But he can't run from this, not anymore. ] What is it?

[ Gods help him but he really hasn't changed. Ignis eyes the soda a moment, but realizes he doesn't have any ability to have a say in the sort of trash he consumes, does he? Instead, he settles into his seat and nods to the paperwork that is sitting at Noctis' part of the table. ]

There's no...point in mincing words. She's begun filing for divorce. I've already started taking care of the necessary steps to push it through the Council and elsewhere and will be coordinating everything relating to her move and the general status of the household while I'm here.

[ Because, despite the divorce, he's not quite sure if Noctis would have him stay. The option for him to send Ignis away is there, much as he hates it. ]

I won't put words into her mouth, but she spoke to me about it last night. I...wasn't certain if she had ever spoken to you about the idea.

[ While you're here? Does this mean Ignis doesn't plan to stay? There is a lot about this to digest, but Noctis exhales, rubbing at his temple. No, he's not surprised -- they've touched on this before, when Luna was born. And before that, too -- and Noctis had been wracked with guilt, aware of how he had fallen short of her, how he had failed her. He knows this, of course he does. But she had taken it in stride the way she always did, which did nothing to alleviate the fact that he's messed up in so many ways. ]

She... mentioned it. [ Noctis had refused, then -- there was Lucis to think about, there was Luna to think about. He stares at the paperwork and takes it, already sees her signature on the documents. He's silent, looking through the documents. Of course she would talk to Ignis about it -- of course he would come here. He's let her down, and instead of lighting this entire mess on fire she still looks to help, anyway. He's failed her, and it's never been more obvious. What would Ignis think of all this -- is he disappointed in him? He wouldn't be surprised if he was.

This whole thing's a mess, and Noctis is at the centre of it all, always too stubborn and too proud to yield. ] What did you two talk about?

[ Well, it's a relief that the subject, sensitive as it is, was broached and that this wasn't a surprise beyond timing. Small blessings, he supposes. Ignis reaches to a platter of fruit and starts dishing himself up, intent on acting as if this is normal - a normal meeting, between a king and his chamberlain, a normal meeting between two people in political situations, not a meeting between two people who loved each other so fiercely it ruined the marriage of one half of them. ]

I'm glad it isn't a shock.

[ It seems a poor consolation, but he doesn't know what else to say. Idly, he starts cutting up a piece of fruit into careful pieces and weighs his words, not sure how much ought to remain private. ]

About the status of things. About where she intends to see everything go, should you sign the paperwork. She's seen everything through. I will assist her in obtaining a villa nearby so she can maintain a relationship with Luna. She intends to keep working on all of the projects the two of you were occupied with.

[ This is not normal. There is nothing normal about this, with Ignis sitting less than four feet away from him, dining like this happens every day instead of it being the first time they've actually spoken to each other. Granted, the latter half of that is largely on Noctis. He's watching him, still digesting the news and reeling from the truth of it. She had been unhappy, he knows -- Gods know that he's tried but he knows, too, that he hadn't tried hard enough, not when the reason for it is sitting across from him.

Ignis might have left him to learn how to say no to Noctis and to end whatever they had, but Noctis has no such luxury as the one left behind. ]

No, I didn't think she'd do it. [ But she would, he knows. They've been married almost two years, and it's a long time to get to know someone you're married to. ] All right. Does anyone else know yet?

[ Because this is going to be a nightmare. The Council is going to take him to task for it, fearful that the treaty and alliance will fall through. A part of him worries as well, unsure of how to take this. Should he make a bid for her to reconsider? Is this what's happening here? Ignis would have foreseen all the potential problems arising from this divorce, and Noctis looks to him. ] And the alliance?

[ There's no point to wringing his hands, so he doesn't. It's as simple as that. ( Nothing about this is simple. ) This is the closest they've been, the first conversation they've had in ages and it aches, each word that he pushes across the table falling flat, somehow inadequate.

How do you sum up a relationship that's spanned so many years and culminated in nothing but a marriage that you then have to help break up not just in theory but in practice?

So he eats. He reaches for a croissant and gets as far as cutting it in half, buttering and putting jam on one before he catches himself. Realizes. Remembers. It takes every ounce of effort to be nonchalant - to place the pastry down, to move it to the side and pick something else, answering as he moves. ] I've contacted relevant parties; we're going to have a busy few days, but I'll be there to help coordinate everything for you. I didn't want to rearrange your calendar without speaking, however, so I've left that alone.

[ Toasted bread, that's safe. Ignis butters that instead, layering a thin line of jelly over the top. ]

Safe. As I said, she's taken care of everything. The folder is yours to keep; it's a summarized version of what she presented me with last night.

[ Yes, he'd stayed up ridiculous hours to make it for Noctis. No, he'd never admit that. ]

[ A croissant. Of course it is. Noctis' gaze is drawn to it, the memory of a time long ago -- when they'd shared breakfast in bed and Ignis had taken some of his, butter and jam, and Noctis had thought nothing of eating it from his fingers. But it looks like he's not the only one that recalls it -- he watches him put it down, his mouth dry. So he remembers. The croissant sits there now, uneaten, left behind for toast, and it's so absurd he wants to laugh, wants to cut the tension between them any way he can.

He reaches for the croissant because he's not letting that go to waste, and because he damn well wants to. If Ignis is determined not to bring up memories then they might as well not make it weird. He wonders if Ignis does this for Aranea, too -- if they have breakfast in bed together out there. If he's continued with her in that year. Maybe they have -- it's not his place any longer to ask, no matter how he feels about it.

He takes a bite of the croissant and opens the file, determined not to look him in the eye. The summary is impeccably done, succinct and to the point and exactly how Noctis likes it (his aides haven't gotten that down quite yet, but they're making a valiant effort). Ignis doesn't need to tell him how long he'd spent doing it, Noctis already knows. He can read it in the tiredness of his eyes, and the fact that this is probably his second cup of coffee. But what's next, as it dawns on him. What comes after the divorce? ]

No wonder you look like shit. [ And yet, still a stunner, still managing to snare Noctis' full attention. ] Did she tell you why?

[ It sits between them, a landmine in no man's land, except -- except, Ignis forgets that it's Noctis. He reaches across the table as if it's nothing, as if it's not a reminder of the mornings he spent in bed with the other man, lounging, savoring the periods where they were alone and able to be themselves, not what the crown required of them.

Ignis' balance in the conversation is off - he's used to looking for reasons why people do things, what political motivation or benefit they have. He'd done it with Octavia and it wasn't necessary, but with Noctis? He's not sure. It could simply be that he wanted it. It could be utterly absent-minded, that he doesn't remember. It could be something else entirely and Ignis can't focus on that right now. He swallows down any bitterness, any regret and spears a strawberry with his fork. ]

Forgive me if I didn't have time to tend to the circles under my eyes before meeting with you. [ Oh, that's snippier than he means, but the little jab hurts more than he's expecting it to and Ignis swallows down anything else before he sticks both feet in his mouth. Coffee. He'll feel better after coffee. ]

In not so many words. I don't believe you need me to explain the minute details.

I didn't mean it that way.

[ Noctis is careless with words, awkward and clumsy with it -- it hasn't changed very much, especially in Ignis presence. The truth remains is that Ignis had spent a lot of time summarizing it for him, as devoted to his duty as it had been before. But Ignis' words still haunt him, the insinuation that he might leave again. He's taking a bite of the croissant, and consider him a glutton for punishment that he takes this and consumes it anyway, as if he could swallow down all the memories they had together.

He looks down at the ring on his finger, then at the pages of the files. Imagine, months and months ago Noctis had wanted the ring on his finger to be Ignis', that he thought he could never be used to it. Now, soon. Soon, he'll have to remove it, and deal with the fallout of being the first king in the entire line of Lucis Caelums to have a divorce. Then again, there was a psychotic mass murderer rotting on the family tree until a few years ago, so. Perspective. ]

What happens next? [ With this, maybe with them. What do they do now? Has Ignis already learned how to say no to him? It feels foolish to hope, not when he's been hurt before. ]

Edited 2018-01-03 03:37 (UTC)

[ He makes an acknowledging noise, but otherwise leaves this alone. The last thing that Ignis wants is for there to be a fight in the breakfast room; he's supposed to be helping Noctis, not antagonizing him further during a difficult period.

Still, he hadn't expected that this would be so ... much. So much of everything. It hurts, yes, but he'd anticipated that. What he hadn't anticipated was not knowing how to interact with his king, after just a year and some change apart. If he looks back he thinks he can pinpoint things that he should have handled differently but looking into the past never helped anyone. Looking in to the future is where he needs to point his attention, but even that is a stretch to say the least. Everything is up in the air; the most that Ignis can do is try to catch all the pieces before they fall and make certain that he plans for the worst and hopes for the best. ]

Next, I have a slew of meetings with the Council to determine just where we're going to be for the next few months. Once the initial panic dies down, there will be something else for the news cycles to focus on but for a while it will not be....ideal, to say the least. There will be a mess to deal with in the papers and news, but you're aware of how that's handled during newsworthy events. I'll be ensuring that Octavia moves into her new space when she's ready to, and will dedicate a car to her along with a driver so she can travel between the Citadel and her villa when she likes. I've also started duplicate orders of Luna's items to be sent to the villa once it's set up; if you have a list of her favorite toys, let me know and I'll ensure I include those.

Anything and everything that she needs. [ Yes. Yes, that sounds good. Noctis hasn't the faintest idea how to unpick the entire mess -- and not for the first time he's grateful that Ignis is here. When everything is imploding, he's here, helping him to make sense of it all, and suddenly it feels like they've turned back time; Ignis at his side, making it all manageable, taking on all that's overwhelming and doing all that's necessary.

He can already see the potential shitstorm they'll stir up, and it must not be any easier for her as well as he nods. ] Yeah. Just -- give her everything she needs. I'll send you the list of what Luna has. [ They have to make things as easy for the princess as they should; and not for the first time Noctis regrets that it has to come to this. But how else can he manage? He cannot forget Ignis, cannot not love him; it would be easier for all involved if he could simply move on and pretend everything never happened. The public relations team will need to be briefed on this to contain the matter, as well as the press secretary's office.

He sighs, and leans back in his chair. He's missed Ignis. He's missed the fact that he's already putting into effect all that's needed. Still, a question looms on the horizon, a crucial, important one. Where do they go from here? Is now even the time to think about it? It probably isn't, but he thinks about it anyway, still snagged on his earlier comment. ]

How long are you staying?

[ So long as it's all business, Ignis thinks that he can maintain a level of decorum and escape this breakfast unscathed. Now he's the one who's a coward, avoiding conversations that he doesn't want to have by ignoring the real question underneath. He can't even really be disappointed with himself, not when he has so much else going on. This is something to regret at two in the morning when he lies awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell he's going to go about fixing this. ]

Perfect. I'll ensure that everything is divided accordingly.

[ Blessedly, this divorce promises to be less of a nightmare than others he's witnessed. There's a level of stability that has to be maintained with their positions, which helps, but Ignis was still a little prepared for a potential fight on one side or the other. That Octavia drafted everything in preparation and Noctis is not fighting it is welcome and will make the coming weeks easier. What won't be easy is what comes after today. The Council will likely question Noctis half to death - what caused it, what was the reasoning, why did she initiate it instead of him, but he can't help with that right now. ]

I haven't decided yet. My contract with Aranea is on hold temporarily while I resume duties here. I have two months to decide. [ His nose wrinkles over the rim of the coffee cup he's sipping. ] She intended this to be a vacation of sorts, so I won't be doing two jobs while here.

[ How does he even begin to fight this when Noctis is sure it's his fault in the first place? How does he ask her to stay when he cannot give her what she needs? It will be more of the same, despite best intentions. He can't fix this, he knows it now. He can't fix anything. Ignis' answer makes his blood run cold -- of course he's here at her bidding; of course he would be here because she asks. Ignis is not here for him; he's already moved on. Funny how it still hurts the way it did a year ago.

The jam and butter croissant tastes like ash in his mouth, the words unexpectedly piercing -- another reminder that he probably hadn't meant to come back on his own. Not to this. ] You don't have to do that.

[ Resume duties. Whatever. He's not a charity case and they can do without him. They have to. ] She wanted this to be a vacation for you.

[ The words come out unexpectedly bitter, bile in the back of his throat because maybe here lies the answer to all the questions Noctis hasn't summoned up the courage to ask, for fear they might be more of the same. ] I can have someone else handle this issue.

[ An entire team of someone elses because no one can do what Ignis does, but he's too proud to want to be a burden, to hope for what is forever out of reach. ]

[ Yes, he does. This is his job -- this is what he was made for, this is where he knows how to do everything and to be useful to Noctis. There's no point in pointing that out, with the way things are right now, though, so Ignis makes a soft noise and cups his coffee with both hands, the toast forgotten. ]

Noctis, when have I ever been particularly good at being idle?

[ It's a gentler question - still his full name, careful, but friendlier than their prior conversation til this point. Ignis looks away a moment later, finding the spread on the table to be less difficult to look at. ]

I can handle this. I am handling it. Please don't worry.

I don't want you here if I have to say goodbye to you again.

[ The detente is broken by honesty, by what Noctis carries inside him the moment he's had news of Ignis' return. He doesn't want him here only to have him leave -- Noctis powerless to do anything but watch him go and be left behind. He looks back at him, the friendly words only more cruelty -- he's not ready for this. He can't handle this when everything still hurts like they have before, and he understands now that it's impossible for him to walk away as easily as Ignis very clearly does. Ignis' competence is not the point. It has never been the point.

It sounds childish now, these words -- the truest thing he's ever spoken in weeks, uttered around the lump in his throat. It's anger, it's what festers when left untended. He wipes his mouth with the napkin and sets it aside before rising from his seat, his chest tight. Isn't the first time difficult enough? How is he supposed to do this again? ]

Why did you come back, Ignis?

[ At first, he only hears the first few words with a sort of resignation sliding over him. Of course not. He's not welcome here, he's the interloper, the one who came back only for Noctis' wife to finalize divorce proceedings as if it's some sort of normal. Then, the rest of it and Ignis closes his eyes. The eyes that Noctis had fixed, the eyes that Noctis had looked into when they were lounging in bed in the mornings and complimented so fiercely that Ignis had burned with affection and something like embarrassment at the raw sweetness behind it. Every part of him belongs to Noctis, every inch of his being and he doesn't know how to exist outside of that.

Noctis rises and Ignis watches him, the line of his shoulders, the spread of him, broad and lovely and despite being feet apart, feeling as if he's a thousand miles away. Maybe he can't do this. ]

Would you believe me if I said I wasn't sure.

[ If they're being honest. ]

I missed home. I missed everyone here. I missed my duties. I missed you.

[ Ignis has never lied to him, not once. He hesitates when Ignis speaks up, like he's just as sad, like this has affected him as much as it has Noctis. He's not sure -- maybe not. He's not sure about a lot of things with Ignis anymore. Maybe he's right, maybe love just isn't enough when it comes to things like this, but oh, if only it was. Noctis would lay all of it at his feet the way he'd had.

He meets his eyes now, finally -- the beautiful shade of green he had adored, had spent so long complimenting, how it had drawn a blush on his cheeks, and how Noctis had loved every moment of it. His Ignis, he thinks; once upon a time Ignis belonged to him. Once upon a time he was within reach, to be held, kissed, to be loved so deeply and so fully that they could forget everything else. Finally, at length, he manages: ]

You know there is always a place for you here.

[ Breakfast is forgotten at this point. He's not going to be eating anything else with his stomach twisting itself in knots that he can't unravel any time soon, so he takes the coffee with him when he rises. It's topped off with the carafe and he adds a splash of creamer before making his way to the massive windows that look over the city they've sacrificed everything to save.

There is a place for him here. Ignis hasn't ever doubt that, but he's doubted where he's fit into it, lately. Over Insomnia, the sun rises, bright enough it threatens to hurt his eyes if he looks at it, but he doesn't look away from the buildings, watching the city come alive underneath them. Idly, a bird wheels circles within sight - one of the first he's seen out here in ages. ]

I know. It's more that I'm attempting to ascertain just how I fit into that place. What it means. I'll figure it out.

[ Ignis turns, leaning against the window, cut in strips of gold, the sun furiously bright. ]

When you've finished with the paperwork, feel free to have it delivered to me. I'm off to face the firing squad and then training with Gladiolus.

[ Now it's Noctis' turn to look, to really look at him, the span of his shoulders, the leanness of his frame. Ignis has always carried himself with an unhurried elegance despite the rigors of his schedule, of expectation heaped on him, all of them met with the kind of dedication that has always been a part of him. He misses him, too -- more than he can ever put into words, and he closes his eyes briefly.

Wreathed against the sun, he is stunningly magnificent, and when he opens his eyes again he doesn't look away. They've fought so long and so hard for this, for whatever it's turning out to be, lost so much time between them. The sunlight catches in his hair, and a part of him wishes Prompto were here to capture this moment. He's seen something similar so many times before, when Ignis occupied these chambers, when he woke with Noctis and they spent so much precious time together before the demands of the day set in.

It feels like a perverse kind of irony that he's back here again. It feels like a kind of mockery that Noctis is too tired to fight. ]

I've missed you. [ He says at last, and is unclear how it'll go. How do they even begin to start learning where each other stood again? ] Every moment of every day. I wish I could have stopped.

[ Oh.

He...hadn't thought that Noctis would actually say it. Things are fragile between them; Ignis knows that, he's more than aware of it, it's like a thorn in the bottom of his foot that he can't remove no matter how hard he tries. Any wrong step could send things sideways. And yet, he's pushing forward, reckless in spite of it, because Noctis does that to him. Noctis makes him take chances he wouldn't normally take, Noctis pushes him to be a better man where he can, even when things are absolutely horrific. ]

I know, Noct. [ I know, darling. Ignis presses his fingertips to the window, watching the window fog at the press of heat and his breath. ] Part of me wishes that you could have, too. The rest of me is horribly, selfishly pleased. Rather barbaric, really.

[ They can both be reckless together, like they were before all of this started, before it all went to hell because the kingdom and its people come first -- it always should come first. All of the mistakes they made, all of the mistakes Noctis would make all over again because he could regret none of it. Ignis looks out the window and Noctis moves towards him; he's always had a pull like this, a magnetic, damnable thing that draws Noctis in like a moth to a flame.

Look at him, just as gorgeous as all the days Ignis had woken in his bed. He stops just a step away, and aches to reach for him. How does he stop himself, how does he even begin? Where do they go from here? Is there even a they? ]

Yeah, it is. [ He doesn't even start to deny that. ] I meant what I said, Ignis. I don't want you here if you're just going to leave again. You might be able to do this again, but I can't. [ He draws himself up, jaw set. ] I won't.

[ He's made the same comparison in his own mind. Noctis burns brighter than any flame - any sun and Ignis is drawn to him just like they all are. It's inescapable, unavoidable, not that he's ever put too much effort in trying. Noctis' footsteps sound too loud in the sudden quiet of the room, or maybe Ignis is just hyper aware of him coming closer, the threat and promise of it.

Once, a year ago, he'd looked at Noctis, sleep-soft and sad in the covers of the bed and told him very similar words. It hurts just as much as he assumes it did back then, now. Of course it's not fair to expect that Noctis would want him to leave again and come back when he decides he's sick of being away. It makes sense; Ignis thinks he could do it if he had to, could leave for a short while again, but he wouldn't like it. Not after he's had a taste of being back.

Not knowing that Octavia may not have given a blessing, but she's opened a door.

Ignis turns, back resting against the glass and it puts them close, nearly walls him in but he doesn't look concerned. There's only one problem with the moth and the flame idea, he thinks, watching the way the sun shines on Noctis Lucis Caleum, King, Dawnbringer. The problem is that when the moth gets too close, it's burned alive. ]

I'll stay.

[ So be it. ]

Edited 2018-01-03 06:12 (UTC)

[ He could burn up if it means he can be close to Ignis again, if it means he can reach out and pull him close. The older man turns and Gods above he takes Noctis' breath away and it shows in the most minute widening of his eyes. He's leaning against the glass and he has to wrench down the mad, mad, mad desire to kiss him, to pin him to the glass and do what he's ached to do for so long. He even manages half a step forward before he stops, remembers himself.

He'll stay, he says, and Noctis cannot help a fierce, selfish surge of pleasure, of something as barbaric as Ignis had spoken of himself. Turns out, it seems, neither of them are all that innocent. He itches to touch him, so close now that he could seal the distance between them and keep him cornered. But there's so much to work out -- this year had been a mess, and there's so much they have to do again, the things to right and correct, hurts to mend.

Now feels like quite a good start. Somewhat. He's still not entirely clear where they stand with each other, where they'll go from here, but this is good, right? ]

What about Aranea?

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