nascere | LET'S PLAY {open post}

I--

[ He can't even articulate it right now, breath hitching in his throat as he tries to think about it and figure out how to give it words. You were dead, Ardyn killed you and I had to watch; it'd get jumbled in his mouth and not come out right, when normally he has no issues talking to Noct.

It's the illness, he supposes, or maybe the panic that lingers at the edge of his awareness, threatening to spike up and swallow him down again if he dips too far into that train of thought. Slowly, he focuses on doing what he can which is at this point, adjusting himself so that he's not quite huddling in Noctis' arms. Instead, he stretches his legs back out and pushes their feet together, sliding an arm around his waist. His cheek is pillowed on one of Noct's shoulders, leaning into each soft touch, shuddering.

Now that it's faded back and he's more aware, he's hyper aware of how pathetic he feels, despite knowing that it's reasonable, given everything that's happened.

Orders, orders are easy. Ignis moves on instinct, obeying before he even thinks about it. His fingers hook under the shirt and he shrugs it off, hair mussed, sticking up in a rather impressive imitation of Prompto's once it's removed. Rather than try and fold it like normal, he lets it slip out of his fingers, slithering over the edge of the bed. It's soaked in a cold sweat and he's sure it smells; he ought to get in the shower, or a bath, but he has no idea what time it is. ]

I'm rather tired of being ill.

On the bright side, you have me to fuss over you. Give yourself a few days, huh?

[ He understands the frustration, is aware that there is one hell of a something that Ignis isn't telling him. But perhaps he will when he's ready -- pushing him for it when he feels this shaky and ill is a cruel thing to do, and Noctis can't bring himself to press him for it no matter how curious he is.

Oh, that momentary Prompto likeness is cute, and Noctis helps him shed his shirt. Ignis smells a little musky, different from how he usually does, but Noctis doesn't care when he's wiping the cold towel over his back, gently urging him up so he can get at his chest and stomach as well. It won't help much to lower his temperature, but at least it's something.

He smiles, wanting to assuage and soothe, because Ignis is not pathetic, he can never be pathetic to him -- he has held the weight of everything on his shoulders, had been so, so brave. He remembers how he'd gotten all those scars, how Ignis was crumpled in a pile and Noctis has panicked, terrified that he would lose him too.

But he didn't, and Noctis murmurs in his ear, smiling. ] You're the bravest, most wonderful man I've ever had the privilege of loving. Do you know that? I think you do. I mean, the other candidates pretty much suck.

You are very fussy.

[ It's ridiculously affectionate despite the fact it could come across as a complaint. His eyes slide closed as Noctis takes the cool towel and starts wiping him down; he's gotten over the idea of complaining about his king taking care of him. Now, he leans into it, drowsy with the lack of adrenaline in him and the exhaustion seeping back.

Noctis drags the towel over his front and his back and Ignis does his best to cooperate, moving along with him mindlessly and when it's done, he presses a kiss to his jaw rather than his lips. He may have caught this from Noctis but he isn't about to give it back by kissing him. ]

Prompto and Gladio are just as brave, but your faith and kind words are still appreciated.

[ Ignis lifts a hand, stroking it over Noct's jaw, tucking hair behind his ear and then slowly, achingly, goes back to resting against the broad stretch of his chest. It still hurts, that kind of ache where anything touching his skin is bad but he'd rather cuddle Noctis than just lay miserably on the bed. It takes time and he has a few false starts but eventually, tracing idle patterns over Noctis' chest, he begins: ]

I dream of losing you. Of not being enough. Of the thousand ways everything could have gone wrong - or, with the prophecy, right for a given meaning of the word.

I am.

[ If the shoe fits, wear it. Also because Ignis helped make him this way by indulging him, so -- really, he's a product of Ignis' love and pampering. But then again, Noctis is beginning to find that he really likes taking care of him, too, and while a part of him wants a proper kiss, he knows the sweetness of Ignis' considerations and doesn't complain. Of course he doesn't want him to get sick again, although it doesn't stop Noctis from sneaking a little closed-mouth one from his lips.

Mm.

He sobers up when he hears Ignis speak, when he clings to him like this and realizes just why Ignis sounded so terrified, how shaken he had been -- Noctis had never seen him like that before, and he doesn't hesitate, his palm resting on his back as he gathers him close. It bothers him more than he can say, this shadow that lingers on the horizon, when Ignis gives voice to his fears and how Noctis had narrowly missed giving his life because of the three of them. They saved him, Ignis most of all, and Noctis will never forget the day he found him in front of the crystal, burned through and dying, and how his heart broke then.

Ignis, who was willing to lay down his life for him. ] You're enough.

[ When the day comes when Noctis has to lay down his life for them again, he wants Ignis to remember this. ] You're more than enough, I want you to understand that.

[ He takes his hand, kisses where he knows the ring had gone. He had found favor with the kings for just a little while, and Noctis had been moved and heartbroken all at once. He can't make promises now, can he? Ignis will know he's lying, and he shakes his head. ] If the day comes -- if ever -- I want you to live. For me. You've done so very much.

[ I like it, gets murmured into the curve of Noctis' throat, a quiet admission. He loves - genuinely loves taking care of Noctis and will never get tired of it. Despite the fact that it was Noctis' father who asked it of him, he'd never regret the years spent together, or the work put in. Especially not when Noctis has grown into a man that his father would certainly be proud of - that Ignis himself is terribly proud of.

Of course, the soft feeling starts to fade when Noctis registers what exactly Ignis had dreamt about; it's not that he's ashamed to love him so much that he has nightmares about losing him, it's that it's done and over with and yet the potential for failure still haunts him.

Gingerly, he shifts and gropes for the blankets, chilled suddenly. He tugs it up to their chest and fits himself in against Noctis' side, smoothing his hand up and down the line of his chest in idle affection. The ring, the Crystal, all of it nearly stole Noctis from them and despite the fact that it would have saved the world, he hates the idea of Noctis having to endure so much and suffer more afterward. No one deserved it, but especially not him. ]

Noct-- [ He doesn't flinch from the words, but oh, he wants to. It's easier when he's not looking at Noct right now, staring at the dimly lit walls around them instead, frowning. ] It's my job to protect you. That doesn't stop, simply because we are together.

[ Noctis helps. Tucks him in and makes sure the blanket is secure (even though he knows the other man will probably toss it off). He knows this is difficult for Ignis; Six, it's difficult thinking about it, too. He doesn't want to die, he wants to live his life out with Ignis and his friends and serve their people. He wants to see where he and Ignis go, he wants to keep loving him and to make up for all the lost time.

Ignis is not looking at him, and he frowns, gently grasping his chin to look at him. Theirs is a complicated relationship where duty and love are inextricably twined -- an innate power imbalance than can implode on itself if not properly managed. But they're doing quite well so far, aren't they? It's turning out that they have the same problems and issues and joys and fears that other couples do, and Noctis is endlessly grateful for that. ]

And it's my job to make sure I protect you, too. As your king. And -- you know. [ Lover still sounds so weird to say. ] More than that. What we are now. I won't have you dying for me. [ That first time, that time, seeing Ignis so close to death terrified him more than even the old kings of Lucis did. His love, dying because of him. He cannot bear it. ]

Edited 2017-12-21 02:53 (UTC)

[ It'll take probably ten minutes for him to decide he's too warm for the blankets, but Ignis appreciates that Noctis plays along with this. Less appreciated is the way his chin is tugged up to look at Noctis and he has to fight the urge to look away, unable, unwilling to look at him but forcing himself to do it anyway. It's the least he owes Noctis.

Of course when he delves into more detail, Ignis wants to look away all over again. How does he begin to explain that it's not the same thing? The loss of a life is a tragedy in almost every case, but Ignis is no fool. If lives were to be weighed, one against another over and over, he knows that Noctis' own would weigh the most, be the most valuable. It's not something to pity himself for, it's simply fact. The world needs Noctis.

Noctis and the world do not need Ignis. There's a quiet certainty in that, and a relief in knowing his own value. Still, Noctis' sweetness isn't something he ought to ignore, especially while sick. ]

We'll have to agree to disagree. [ He says it as gently as he can, turning his head back down until he's looking at the blankets, listening to the steady thump-THUMP of Noctis' heart under his ear. ] Either way; I've no intention of dying or letting you die now, or any time in the future.

I'm not agreeing to disagree with that.

[ Noctis says quietly. For all intents and purposes, Noctis has always respected Ignis' opinions even if they differ; they might be intimately close, more attuned to each other than anyone else, but even they have disagreements, too. And this, it seems, is one of them. The truth is that Noctis needs him. He needs him more than he's ever needed anyone else. Ignis is true north, a fundamental, irreplaceable part of his life, and the idea of living without Ignis is something Noctis never wants to contemplate.

He's gathering him close, letting him hear the beat of his heart, stroking his hair absently. ] No one's dying. [ He murmurs, at least mollified a little. ] I need you by my side, you know. To be without you -- that's not where I want to be.

Noctis-

[ Oh, it's the full name. He's not terribly threatening like this, weak like a puppy and horribly exhausted, but he tries to be disapproving for a second before giving up. There's no way to put words to the relationship between them, not properly. They're two entirely different people, where Noctis was able to depend on the people around him and Ignis was made to protect him. Everything he did was for Noctis' benefit, for his life further along the line. That's what he was entrusted with and that's what he would follow through with.

That's what made this sickness so infuriating. Ignis curves his hand over the dip of Noctis' waist and breathes out, slow and warm when the hand starts stroking his hair. He does truly like this and he doesn't want to argue but how does he even broach the subject? ]

You're a King, darling. As much as I wish that the world would bend to your whims and wants, it will not. The three of us are your shields.

[ Gladiolus may be Noctis' Shield proper, but Ignis knew all three of them would put their life on the line for him every time. ]

[ No, that's not terribly threatening, even though Noctis senses the intent perfectly well. Ignis' energy is waning, worn thin from what little exertion Noctis allows him these days, and he makes a silent note to reduce it further, at least until Ignis shores up his strength. ]

You're all more than that. [ He says more gently than he usually would -- more than shields, they're his friends, brothers in arms, especially Ignis, who is so, so much more. He's a partner, a lover, he's such an immense part of Noctis' life that he won't know what to do with himself if Ignis slips away from him. ] You, especially.

[ He musters a small smile, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to draw him closer against his chest. Might as well take advantage of this when Ignis is still seeking warmth instead of shedding it. ] And you should really be sleeping instead of arguing with me.

But we're not kings.

[ He's realistic, not fatalistic. He hates it, that this conversation is even necessary but in his mind it is. Losing Noctis would be unbearable for all of them but worse for Insomnia, for Lucis. They can't afford that right now, not with everything as politically unstable as it is, not with the Empire as it is. They need to be careful and ensure each step is measured, well thought out.

Still, he's not going to win this argument right now, he's sure, and it isn't the best time to try and die on this particular hill so he exhales unhappily and allows himself to lie there, Noctis' chest rising and falling soothingly. ]

I'm not certain if I can get back to sleep as quickly as I'd like, but you should try. I shouldn't keep you up.

[ He should probably get up and put another shirt on but he can't bring himself to move more than the few inches he's already moved to drape over Noctis. ]

[ Really, you shouldn't say things like that to Noctis. He's sleepy, yes, and would definitely love to settle in and sleep, nestled together with Ignis, but he remembers the wild look in his eyes, which pushes the necessity for it further back than it usually would. ]

You're not keeping me up. [ Technically true. It's Noctis that's consciously keeping himself up despite encroaching drowsiness. It's his worry that left to his own devices, Ignis would let his imagination run wild, that he would stew, alone, in the nightmares that had so ruthlessly wrenched him to consciousness. ] Is it still bothering you, that nightmare?

Liar.

[ A sweet one, though, and Ignis doesn't want to fight it. He's calmed down significantly, but knows that sleep is going to be out of reach for a while. It's stupid to keep Noctis up to suffer with him, especially when he needs sleep but the low rumble of his voice is comforting.

A few more moments to make sure that his subconscious gets the idea that Noctis is really alive and hopefully doesn't decide to have awful nightmares any longer, and then he'll try to rest again. Would that he had the power to fall asleep anywhere like their king possessed. ]

Do you ever feel as though something is too good to be true?

[ Like one day he'll wake up and it'll all have been a dream; Noctis will be in the ground and the rest of them will be dealing with the ruins of Insomnia. ]

Every morning, when I wake up next to you.

[ Yes. Yes, of course. It's not Noctis being glib; it's Noctis at his most honest. They've cheated death, thwarted the prophecy's blood price, but to what end? Noctis thinks about it sometimes, and he knows that his life had been bought, essentially, by his dearest friends' hard work and sacrifice.

He nuzzles against him quietly, soberly, nuzzling against his cheek before resting his chin against the top of Ignis' head, feeling the rise and fall of his body. It's a simple thing, feeling him draw breath. But it's more important than anything else in the world, to know that Ardyn hadn't claimed Ignis' life too, after all. He has killed so many, and caused the deaths of so much more, Ignis is not one of them. ]

And you?

[ Oh. Oh. He doesn't know what to say to that because sometimes, Noctis' raw honesty is so much that it's practically overwhelming. He's silent for a long moment, just soaking in the sweetness of it, resisting the urge to think that it's ridiculous that Noctis could have his choice of anyone and he's chosen him. It's a ridiculous thought and he's not prone to self-deprecation; it's just the illness and he knows it. ]

Sometimes I think about what could have been.

[ What could have happened, if they had failed. There's a million different ways things could have gone even worse; Noctis could have truly died out there with Lunafreya. Noctis could have died a dozen times over and it was pure fucking luck that saved him at points, not just the combined efforts of his friends. It's terrifying to think about and dwelling on it won't help anyone.

Ignis presses a lingering kiss to his pulse, stroking his sock-clad toes against Noctis' ankle gently. ]

Forgive me. Fever and lack of sleep mean I'm particularly prone to melancholy, I suppose.

It's all right.

[ He nudges back against him warmly, appreciating the kiss pressed to his pulse, the sweetness of Ignis' tender gesture. There are shadows in Ignis that he can't yet reach, but Noctis knows the value of patience, knows that it will take time to fully process what happened, and how to move forward together.

He's seeking out his hand, twining their fingers together as he raises it to his lips, warm and almost worshipful. Ignis might be ill, but it will pass, like dark clouds that only blot out the sun for a few moments. He's not certain if it'll be the same for the possibilities that he notices Ignis finds himself contemplating -- Noctis would be lying if he said he hadn't dwelt on that, either. ]

Tell me more about it. [ He wants to listen, he wants Ignis to let him in. Maybe then Ignis will be able to sleep better, knowing the burden is shared. ]

[ He feels ridiculous the more he talks about all of this; it's not as if Noctis would ever judge him for it, but at the same time, Ignis knows that he has his own things that he's going through. Of course, a relationship is a partnership, too. Noctis would want to know. Ignis is more than aware he's walking himself around in mental circles and talking about it will be more use than anything else.

The kiss to his fingers gets a soft noise in response, Ignis reaching out to graze fingertips over the curve of his jaw, the pout of his lower lip. He's so lovely sometimes that it strikes Ignis all over again and he feels silly for being almost flustered by it; he's far too old for that. ]

Ardyn was successful. You were - we lost you to the Astrals, the crystal, the ring. You fulfilled your destiny and he was defeated, but not before they took you, too. It wasn't...the situation itself was awful, but the worst was feeling so helpless. You had a duty to fulfill and I understood that, even in a dream, but that did not make it any easier to accept.

No, I guess it wouldn't.

[ Noctis says quietly, after a long silence. How much worse it must be for the people who love him -- for Ignis, Gladio, Prompto, to be haunted by the possibility of failure. Dying, he supposes, is easier than living through loss, because at least it ends. Not that Noctis wants to die, mind; even if he's prepared for the eventuality.

Sometimes, he thinks in his more private moments, if it might be better if he did, after all. A life to pay for all the others who have given theirs up for his sake along the way. But he owes his days to his people and their loved ones, he owes it to them to restore their home.

He leans into Ignis' fingers, eyes lidding at the delicate touch. This is not the rambling of a delirious man -- it's Ignis naming the ghosts that haunt him before they become a noose around his neck.

Leaning in close to lay a soft kiss to his chin, his cheek, he murmurs. ] Now is probably a good time to remind you that you're the strongest, bravest man I know. Not just anyone would charge in and demand the favor of the old kings. You --

[ His fingers come to rub over where the ring had been on Ignis', and he takes that to his lips, pressing a kiss over it, too. ] You're never helpless. You'll always find a way -- that's the kind of person you've always been.

[ Part of him hates this - he's always depended on being strong enough to be Noctis' shield of a different sort, so baring any sort of weakness feels even more strange. But it is Noct. He knows him, trusts him. He loves him. If he can't trust Noct with this, then what is he doing?

Besides, it feels better to get it out, to tell him about it. It never came to pass; Noctis is fine, warm and solid underneath Ignis' hand and he's grateful for that. It's a gift and he isn't going to squander it. Noctis leans into the touch and Ignis sighs quietly. Sometimes, he's overwhelmed with it: with how much he loves Noctis, with how grateful and lucky he is and moments like this make it all the clearer.

The sickness may be a portion of it; he feels absolutely horrendous but knows that he'll get well soon enough and dwelling on it won't help. It may make everything seem all the worse, but he's aware enough to realize it and compensate for it. ]

Flattery will get you everywhere, Highness.

[ He tilts his head up to it, like a flower to the sun and feels himself warm in a way that has nothing to do with his fever at Noct's gentle touch and kiss. ]

I'll do everything in my power to make certain your trust in me is never misplaced.

I'd hope so. I plan to get everywhere with you.

[ Look at him, still so beautiful when sick and looking like death warmed over -- and Noctis knows this is love, full and unrelenting and joyous, and when Ignis tilts his head up to him, when he accepts his kiss and his touch like it's the only thing in the world he wants, Noctis' heart sings. He never thought he'd have this again, he thinks, he never thought this kind of contentment would sit in his chest, so close to bursting. ]

In here, I'm your lover, not your king. [ He kisses the side of his mouth now, then his lips. If he gets sick again, he gets sick again, he doesn't care. ] Now get some sleep, and I'll give you a bath when you wake.

Mmnn, a good thought to consider.

[ He should let Noctis sleep, though. It's late and they're both tired, one of them from sickness, the other from job duties. He's laid bare his nightmares and while it still felt raw and a little awful to consider, Noctis hasn't run from the room and he's still being terribly sweet. It's ridiculous, just how much he loves him. It feels absurd, thinking about it, how things could be so different if they didn't have this, but no. He was lucky enough to wake up in a world where Noctis would be asleep beside him and he wasn't going to squander that gift.

The kiss to his lips gets a slightly disgruntled little noise made against Noctis' mouth, but he doesn't pull back. He does squirm down onto the blankets and sheets and strokes his hand down the line of Noct's chest, ending at his hip, settling his head on the pillow. ]

I'll hold you to that in the morning.

LET'S PLAY {open post}

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

l m f a o tbh this could turn into the argument.

heck yes omg

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject