nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

[ 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?

[ When moments ago Ignis hadn't been sure where things were going to go, if they were going to be alright, he'd wondered if he'd have to leave. He meant to stay entirely composed during the duration of their talk but wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to without getting upset, or truly frustrated, at Noctis and himself. Now, he realizes, he should have worried about something else entirely.

They're close -- they're so close that the chill from the window is sharp at his back but Noctis is so close he can feel the warmth off of him. If things were back to normal, he thinks, and then has to stop himself because if things were back to normal, this is where he'd push Noctis against the glass and make him come on his fingers and tongue before his next meeting. It's the kind of ridiculously intrusive, filthy thought that makes his cheeks warm, frustrated at himself. Of course: just an hour together and the Noctis' shaped blind spot is back, and Ignis wants to do the same foolish thing his younger self had done - instigate without thinking about the consequences.

You can't.

Conversation helps him snap out of it, but that topic makes him laugh under his breath. ]

A very dear friend, as always.

[ Noctis is not one for games, or the more subtle nuances of conversation -- it's a large part of why he's loathed the politics of royalty, and why he's always been more at home with people who won't make a career out of circling around the bushes. He steps away when he realizes how close he is, his heart pounding at the proximity and a rapidly growing list of what he could do to him right here, right now.

No, they have to do this right, whatever this is. He can't mess this up the way he had in the last weeks and months of what they had before, when he seduced him and pushed past all the excuses even if he'd been hurting, as if what they did together could be a lasting balm for the heartache. It never went away, that heartache, and it could only work for so long.

So he frowns, uncertain. ]

You had a year together. [ Is dear friend supposed to mean something else? Or is that what it really, simply means? ]

[ That was the moment he'd been looking for with literally any of the people he'd dated. His body knew Noctis' like no other. He'd never had such a visceral reaction to another human being before, never felt himself want someone so much that it was sometimes nearly a physical ache when he was close but untouchable. In all of the people he saw, nothing had ever felt like this. All that control, spun up and tightly held unspools in an instant when he's around Noctis.

They'll have to have a talk in private, not over breakfast. He could set something up on both of their schedules, once this divorce has passed. It wouldn't be wise to get into something when he's so soon back. Already, the rumor mill will be going wild with the fact that he's returned and the queen's asked for a divorce from her husband. The man her husband was already rumored to have been sleeping with. What a nightmare. ]

She and I wanted what the other could provide to them. I wanted her help provide companionship, a purpose. She did.

[ He doesn't mention what she needed, watching Noctis carefully, painfully honest. ]

There's only ever been you. The only difference is that these years made it easier to compartmentalize.

[ Noctis snorts, faint but still audible. He doesn't want to think about anyone else giving Ignis what he gives him -- he still wildly, ferociously hates the idea of another touching Ignis the way he has, kissing and touching and holding him, the recipient of the way Ignis looks at him, soft-eyed and vulnerable and warm.

He can see it now, in his mind's eye, swallowing the desire and aching to renew what they had, to feel him again. But he can't, not like this, even if every ounce of him wants to kiss him stupid and steal every word from his lips.

There's only ever been him, and that's enough for Noctis. There is a weight that lifts off of him that he never realised was there, and even when relief sets in there is another question that lingers. ]

So where do we go from here?

[ He's never wanted to lie to Noctis about this, except for maybe when they were younger and he'd been torn between duty and want. Ever since then, though, he's been painfully honesty about almost everything he wants. In the case of the last year - too honest, perhaps, to a fault.

Still, they're talking. That's...good. That's better than it could have been by leaps and bounds. Ignis lifts his coffee to his lips, considering. There's not really a good time, but they'll have to figure one out in between all of the other things going on. Better they determine this now, than let the press or a slip-up elsewhere happen and make more of a mess. At least he knows how to keep his distance in public; Six knows he's been good at that, also to a fault. ]

I don't know. We'll have to see how things progress with the divorce. Once that's sorted, we can schedule some time to talk about it, but that time will have to be determined by how quickly everything here progresses.

[ Noctis' gaze lingers on the bob of his adam's apple when he speaks, not quite able to still believe this yet. The world doesn't look as bleak as it once does, now that he's decided to stay and be here, and it feels like the sun has rsen in more ways than one. He's acutely aware of the fact that there's still a lot to be done, but that's fine -- as long as he's here, as long as he's not hurting.

They have to straighten out this thing with the divorce, the impending storm and flurry that Octavia would also need protection from, and he circles back around to the dining table, taking a seat thoughtfully. ]

I'll call for the council. [ It doesn't seem fair to send Ignis into it when this is a mess he has to take care of himself. Letting Ignis take all the heat doesn't seem all that fair when he hasn't technically done anything wrong. He knows how they'll talk, how the rumor mills work, and he would rather direct the attention to himself. He'll have an easier time of it than either one of them, anyway. Who's going to really go at the king who just brought back the daylight after ten years of neverending night?

Noctis doesn't like taking advantage of that very much - as far as he's concerned, it's always been a duty - but there are times when it's a good shield. Besides, with everything that Octavia had put in place moving forward, he doesn't expect an immense fallout. ] I'll inform them of the decision.

[ There's a part of him - small, but undeniably there, that is a little irritated by this. He's always been soft on Noctis, but it's taken him a while to fully appreciate the implications of what that bias looked like, the form it took.

He's trying to dive in front of a sword that Ignis is willing, capable and prepared to already fall on, which in a way does warm him down to his toes, but there's also the fact that the reason he has to go to this meeting is because of Noctis and his wife.While he's relieved that Noctis is looking more animated, is reaching out to him to try and take over this task, his wife is gods know where dealing with the fact that she's going to be initiating a divorce, the likes of which haven't been seen before in Insomnia.

It's his job to take a sword for Noctis, not Noctis' job to do so for him. Gently, he presses a hand to Noctis' shoulder, gripping firmly. ]

I appreciate it, but you need to talk to Octavia. First and foremost to see how she's doing, but secondly, to thank her. She knew exactly what she was doing, Noct. We could have been much less lucky.

[ Talking to Octavia, yes. Ignis is right -- the first thing he has to do is go to her; they need to sort this out between themselves before they face the others, and Noctis, oh, how he owes her. Ignis squeezes his shoulder and it's difficult not to be distracted, or be reminded of what they've had, what they can have again. There's a flicker of guilt that curls in his chest. He owes her so much, he owes her for having Ignis back with him, and he's cautiously hopeful.

He rests his hand on his, briefly. Ignis can handle this, he knows -- he'll face down the Council and handle things, and he cannot help but be grateful to him as well. He's his right hand, his shield, and it feels like something's slotted back in his world. He's complete again, and it's difficult for him to still believe it. Squeezing his hand, he nods. They will definitely need another talk soon, once he takes care of it. ]

We really could have. [ He aches to kiss his fingers, to press his lips against those familiar gloves, but he refrains. They can sort this one out later, too. ] I'll see you, then. Let me know how it goes.

[ It's as well as he could have hoped this would go. Ignis walks away from it feeling hopeful instead of anxious, worried about what the next day will bring and Noctis, he hopes, goes away feeling the same. It's the kind of memory he'll hold onto if something goes too far south, if they're parted again for any reason. They can come back from this; they just have to try, when the time is right.

For a while the divorce proceedings are all that occupy his attention. He takes care of Luna a few times during the odd hours when Octavia is in meetings and has to run between them; usually those periods line up when he's reading reports and it's terribly easy to watch her and walk around while he's working. It makes it easier for him to work with her regarding her projects; she comes out of one meeting and they touch base on everything, before she heads to the next one.

When things are settled down for not just one day, or two, but three, without the impeding certainty that the world was going to end if he wasn't on call at all moments, that's when he reaches out to Noctis, sliding an invitation into his schedule. Rather than at a restaurant, it's set for one of the living room portions of the Citadel - meetings for friends, usually or a more casual place to stay. Or, in Prompto's case, a great place to steal Noctis for gaming. He orders delivery from the same place that he and Noctis always used to get it from while on the way home from an off-site meeting and then picks up a six pack of his favorite sodas.

It's not bribery, but he also wants to make this conversation as painless as possible and plying someone with good food and the reminder that you care will hopefully do something. By the time Noctis arrives, he's plated everything, and is idly sipping from a can of Ebony. ]

Hello. I'm glad the meeting before didn't run too long; I tried to make certain I scheduled this after one of the ones that was less likely to be a mess of arguments lasting twenty minutes extra.

[ The Council is great. ]

[ Noctis devotes his time to his duties, to stabilising whatever fallout that comes out of the divorce. The public relations team have been briefed, and so has the press secretary -- the press releases had gone out, and eventually the furore dies down to a simmer. Everyone has their opinion, their two cents' worth, and Noctis is inwardly thankful that more pressing diplomatic and public policy matters to look into. He spends whatever little time he has with Luna, taking care to visit her and hold her from time to time.

He speaks with Octavia, too; apologizes to her (for all the good it'll possibly do), and they still work together, because if nothing they are a good team, and Noctis appreciates her talent for forging new ties and her business acumen. There is a lot that he learns from her, but he feels better. He feels happier, even if the guilt of letting Octavia down doesn't go away. She takes it well, all things considered, but Noctis takes care to pay special attention to what she needs, to provide all that she would require. She doesn't need all that much -- although she's mentioned that she would be making a trip back to Nifleheim for awhile, just to straighten things out on the other side.

Word of the divorce had caused ripples and a few out of turn comments from dubious spokespersons, but overall, Noctis is relieved to see that the alliance between Lucis and the Empire have not been severely affected. Ignis makes an appointment to meet Noctis, and he turns up this evening after a day full of meetings, relieved and please that this'll be in a place that he remembers. a place he's neglected for a little over a year.

Shutting the door behind him and casually locking it -- he doesn't want them to be disturbed; he has no idea what the agenda for the evening is, but he assumes it isn't wholly involved with business matters. ]

Thanks. [ He says, unbuttoning his suit jacket and shrugging out of it, tossing it onto the nearest chair. ] Yeah, thankfully they're all in a hurry to go home this evening. It's been a long day for everyone.

[ And Ignis most probably knew that, too. Taking a can and popping the tab, he gives him a small, crooked smile, appreciating the familiar smell of the chinese takeout. All his favorites too, clearly. ]

I don't envy your job.

I imagine.

[ It's been a busy few weeks for everyone, but blessedly most of the effort is because of political matters, not military ones. He'll always take that over any sort of military issue; while everyone is still rebuilding, there's a peace and no one is tempted to violate it. One of the more common conversations lately, though, has been about what they do in cases like that. What they do when the military does need to mobilize.

It's a valid question and one that he's been mulling over with Gladiolus. There's a potential solution, but with it comes risk, as with any when they're playing with such a balancing act. ]

Good, as I rather like it and don't intend to give it up any time soon.

[ Ignis pops open another box and passes Noctis his favorite wordlessly, dishing himself up so he can sit on the chair across from him. ]

There's something we need to consider, and I wanted to talk with you in private, first. If we-- were to revisit what we had before, I think we need to determine exactly what that entails, all the way through. If you'd rather not, then we'll proceed as normal. I would understand.

[ Noctis will be open to hearing whatever proposals they have when it comes to potential mobilisation. At this point, it is not feasible for any country to go to war with each other, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared, to shore up their defenses wherever necessary. Taking the box from him with a word of thanks, he picks up a pair of chopsticks and proceeds to open it. Mm, sliced beef rice, definitely his favorite. It occurs to him, too, that he misses what Ignis used to make for him. The different dishes he'd have new recipes for, and how Noctis always used to tease him for it.

He settles in and helps himself -- he only had a sandwich for lunch before he had to attend another meeting, and he's hungry. ] Mm.

[ But then Ignis is outlining the agenda for the evening, and he looks up from his food, settling in and contemplating him, disgesting what he means to say. So Ignis wants a state of the union thing in regards to this... current stalemate they have. ] What's normal for us? [ The relationship they had, fiery and consuming and passionate ever since they fell into each other -- the one that had been normal for them up until the marriage happened -- or this stalemate now? ]

[ That's another thing he hasn't quite gotten used to. With Noctis nowhere near by, Ignis...didn't really cook. Everything he spent was paid for and he didn't come anywhere near excessive spending. His time was better spent doing other, more important things. Now that he's back, he wonders if that's something he'll pick up again for him.

Chopsticks in hand, he grabs one of the potstickers and neatly settles it on the plate as well. Why not. And, of course, a misstep. This...wasn't normal. At least, not what he'd meant by it. Ignis frowns at himself and takes a bite to buy a moment to think about how he wants to attack this.]

We've never really had a normal. I suppose I mean baseline normal, for a king and his chamberlain. It's simply meant as an escape option, if you need. That's all.

[ Noctis isn't anywhere as dignified when it comes to eating, digging into his box and taking a bite, then frowning when he discovers broccoli buried under the meat, when he picks out and lays onto Ignis' plate. But he's listening. He's trying to work out just what they are to each other, what they can be to each other. It's a long road to moving back to what they were again, but the idea of using the escape option just seems too much to bear. ]

We've been through that escape option. It didn't work.

[ He points out quietly. Haven't they tried that repeatedly? Noctis had demonstrated that he has no qualms about breaking all those rules -- he's not the one to keep to them, he can't. The truth is that Ignis is his biggest weakness, the one man who is the exception to so much, who tips him towards that dangerous line between love and obsession. It's not healthy, probably, but he doesn't care. ]

I'm assuming you have some thoughts of your own. [ He begins carefully, eyeing him over his food. ]

[ Of course. The familiarity of it is comforting enough all on its own. Ignis puts it on top of a bit of the sliced meat he has and then piles some rice onto it before using the meat like a little bag to hold it. He'll eat Noctis' vegetables this time, but he's making sure to add that smoothie to his breakfast later, because Noctis needs to eat some greenery. ]

I know.

[ Noctis could send him away if he needed to, though. Ignis is well-prepared for anything that might happen, and he has his own resources if for some reason Noctis decided that this was enough, here and now. He won't, of course. Ignis knows that right now, that's not really even in question, but if things go poorly, well. They've never had a fight that bad; he's hoping. ]

Part of me thinks I don't know how to properly have a relationship with you because I blur the lines of where my job ends and my partnership with you begins. I thought time away would help ease it, but I'm here, across from you now and it hasn't eased. It's just as much as before. And I -- worry that will make me unfit. To trust I make decisions based on the kingdom's needs and not my own with you. I worry about the same for you.

[ So Noctis was wrong -- this does have something to do with business, and his governing of the kingdom. Ignis is right, he's hit the nail on the head, and Noctis doesn't continue eating. This is an issue for them -- he's not stupid, he knows that he's compromised whenever he's with Ignis, that he lacks the ability to think straight whenever Ignis is concerned. The latest thing right here, that's proof enough, and he can't find it in himself to be defensive about it.

If Ignis has seen it, perhaps others are starting to, as well -- that the fastest and more sure way to the king is through Ignis and vice versa. It had been impossible to give Ignis up even for the sake of his kingdom and his people, but he doesn't mention it; he doesn't need to. In the end, Ignis had been the one to bite the bullet and walk away.

Even so, they're still here again. ]

You did. You walked away, remember? [ Noctis points that out neutrally. He'd said no to him, denied him any last comfort for the sake of his wife, of Lucis. ] And you came back here because Aranea made you. I'm not entirely worrled about your inability to make decisions based on the kingdom's neds.

[ Which leaves Noctis. He pauses. ] Unless we're talking about me.

[ In some way, it's relieving to know that it's unlikely that Octavia will ever be in much danger from those who would oppose them. If he were going to go after anyone, logically, he'd go after Luna, and then himself, Prompto and Gladiolus. Octavia was safe, most likely, from a great many threats because of Noctis' behavior but that wasn't exactly the reason that he'd done it, nor a reason to congratulate him. ]

I walked away because I couldn't trust myself to be objective.

[ Because he couldn't control himself and if he didn't start, he was going to make things worse. Logically, he knows that the fact he went away means he could have, but it was much harder to deny what he wanted when it was right in front of him. This was easier. ]

And I didn't -- Aranea didn't make me, Noctis. She may have orchestrate the timing, but I agreed to a year and she ensured that it wasn't extended any past that like some contracts were. I wanted to be here.

[ Nail on the head, as it goes. Ignis looks at him, not accusing, but...something. It's edged in disappointment. ]

I thought that leaving would allow you to move on and focus on her.

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