LET'S PLAY {open post}

[nascere]

[ open. texts, messages, rp prompts and starters. gen & nsfw. ]

Comments

setting this in the au where he can see fuck u ffxv

[broments]

[ In the end of the world, there aren't any jewelers. There are the storefronts where they used to be and if Ignis wanted, he could of course simply walk in and peruse the wreckage for something shiny. In the beginning of the new world, when the rubble is cleared and the sky is blue and Noctis lives and breathes and blessedly still refuses to eat his carrots, there still aren't many jewelers. Most craftsmen are occupied with important tasks to rebuild the kingdom and jewelry isn't one of them. It takes time for things to get back to a sort of normal where Ignis can do something like visit jewelry shops to talk about rings.

Ignis is nothing if not efficient, though. He makes contact with all of the former jewelers in their new jobs, partially out of curiosity and to make certain that their people are being utilized as efficiently as possible and partially to get an idea of their work. Someone could design and develop lovely trinkets, of course, but if they didn't apply the same sort of care and time to a project that was a thousand times more important but perhaps thankless, then he wasn't interested in giving them his business.

All of the research results in making multiple contacts who are hyper-qualified to handle the melting down of much of Insomnia to help deal with the wreckage and he learns a great deal about metallurgy that he hadn't quite anticipated, but there's one that sticks out in his mind. The daughter of a man who had owned one of the shops over in the textiles district, her father long since passed, somewhere in year four or five. When the darkness had come, she'd used her tools to help repair weapons and armor, had become friends with Cindy for a short while before work brought her elsewhere and was now married to someone else, a journalist, he'd heard. Ignis hadn't ever associated with her much, but when she reopens her fathers store he stops by.

She knows him and of the prince, now King. She also knows why he's there, and doesn't bother trying to show him any of the items that are on display right now. Instead, she settles him down with a list of every single type of metal, jewel, fixture and other aspect of jewelry she has access to, and provides him with a spreadsheet detailing locations, estimated time for delivery and every other piece of information that he could possibly hope to have. It's shockingly detailed and far more than he expects. When he asks about it, she grins and tells him that her husband, Dino, had mentioned the guy with the glasses, he likes all that detail oriented crap, go wild.

Of course.

Oddly pleased Dino's survived the nightmare along with the rest of them, he spends a solid week and a half working with her on obtaining the parts he want, taking a day trip to obtain something specific that she said they'd need to get the right shade in one of the fixtures.

When it's done, settled in the little box, she jokingly asks him for an invite. He promises without hesitation to give her and her husband one. The thing is, once he has it, the box seems to weigh a thousand times more than its contents. It sits in his obscenely massive closet for a while, tucked in a corner. Every time he thinks he's going to do it, something comes up, or there's some new issues to take his attention. Perhaps a wedding just...isn't in the cards for them for the next few years. They've had the coronation; certainly that's enough, but he wants more. It feels...greedy, almost, as if the love of his life living despite everything the gods, Ardyn, and everyone else is too much to ask for. He knows it's absurd but waking up to Noctis every single morning is a gift beyond measure or price and to want something else on top of that seems like it's too much.

So the box stays. Ignis buries himself in work during the mornings and day, and in Noctis' arms at night and it's comfortable, it works. The box and its precious contents will keep.

Breakfast, on the other hand, will not. Ignis settles it on Noctis' lap and climbs up next to him, winding an arm around him while he pulls his phone up to peruse the news and pick at his coffee, along with bits of Noctis' breakfast, not hungry enough for his own.

The problem with the city and its people being strong and rebuilding so quickly is that everything starts rebuilding, even the more unsavory parts. With dedicated time and people for news comes the resurgence of newspapers. With that comes the resurgence of gossip rags. Ignis flips through the assortment of ones that are earmarked for him - ones they may have to answer in press conferences because someone is too stupid to realize that no, the Citadel is not housing a bat-boy in any way, shape or form. This time, though, there's one that catches his eye.

RIGHT HAND MAN LOOKING TO PUT A RING ON IT? KING NOCTIS' CHIEF ADVISOR REPORTEDLY LOOKING FOR LOVE

Attached is a remarkably terrible photograph of him in the jeweler's though, so there's not much help denying it. Ignis files it before it can do any harm and just...assumes Noctis won't ever see it. ]

How's breakfast?

[nascere]

[ Carrots are crops borne from the ninth circle of hell, and he will have nothing to do with it, thank you. Noctis is more convinced of this than ever, especially after almost dying and coming back again, and he's thankful that Ignis is often too busy to really push the matter -- not that he usually does, anyway.

Life goes on in Lucis; relief and rebuilding efforts are in full swing, but the nature of human nature is one of resilience, and even in the midst of recovery work, people still find time for light-hearted frivolity, for thanksgiving. Of late, Noctis has been devoting his time to alleviating conditions for his people, starting on projects for the ones who are rendered homeless and developing plans to reclaim their annexed territories. It's just as well that he has a good few competent teams to take on their respective tasks, and Noctis manages to find time to source for jewelers, the precious stone he had picked up in one of the mines and surreptitiously kept had a use for it now.

Black diamond, the color for royalty and the stone that would signify an everlasting love -- he had spared plenty of thought for just how he could eventually pop the question to Ignis; and in the beginning had sought Dino and a few other craftsmen as well, commissioning them to create and craft a very specific ring, and Dino had met him under the cover of night to pass the box to him, a knowing gleam in his eye.

That had been nearly a month ago, and he likes to think that Ignis is still none the wiser the same way he is of his lover's trips to the jeweler's. As things are now, they're as close to perfect as they can be: they've fallen into each other's rhythm, a seamless, formidable team on the battlefield as well as out of it, and Noctis has learned to anticipate Ignis' plans and schedules, all the while admiring his efficiency and profound intelligence.

The Citadel has no better asset than Ignis and his myriad talents, and even now Noctis wakes next to him and is grateful that Ignis had chosen to stay by his side -- what a loss it would be to them if he had left for greener pastures; how much slower the relief effort will be if he did not stand by their side.

This morning, the daily news dossier that the public relations director sends reaches him earlier than usual, and he'd picked it up sleepily before Ignis returns with the breakfast, settling in bed and stealing his daily kiss from him with a lazy smile. He's been given a chance to leaf through the articles, not paying much mind to them when most of them are matters best handled by the professionals. What does catch his eye, however, is that one headline about Ignis evidently looking for love, having been spotted at a jeweler's.

Noctis doesn't bat an eyelid, his faith in his lover absolute and unwavering -- they've been through too much, and over and over again Ignis has proved the depth and intensity of his devotion, and Noctis has done the same. He had most likely been caught on camera during one of his visits to the merchants and store owners of the area. Ignis does tend to make his rounds from time to time. ]

Could do with some jam. I hear you're looking for love. [ He teases gently, because very obviously the thought that Ignis might be doing what Noctis had done hasn't crossed his mind. Plucking a particularly fluffy croissant from the tray, peeling off a pinch and feeding it to Ignis absently, he continues with a smile. ] So who's the lucky woman this time?

[broments]

[ When the rebuilding starts, Ignis is offered a plethora of positions, the vast majority of which while tempting and important would have taken him away from the one place he wanted to be. Not the Citadel, though he did enjoy being home for a given meaning of the word, but no, by Noctis' side.

Some didn't get it; Ignis' dedication to the throne had always been intangible. He served Regis because that was what his family did, and when serving Regis turned to serving Noctis he had taken to that with the same dedication and ferocity he did everything else. What he hadn't expected - what others didn't understand was that it wasn't duty that kept him bound to Noctis' side, though that did play a part. No, it was something raw, something ridiculous, almost, like out of one of Gladiolus' absurd romance novels. It could simply be laid out in one word: love.

He might serve his country and the ghost of Regis better if he were elsewhere, perhaps, but Ignis had meant what he told Ardyn all those years ago, fierce and hoarse and terrified at losing the only good thing this world had. The state of the world paled in comparison to Noctis living and that was his duty above all else. He was an extension of Noctis' will and intent and his place was forever at his side, in any capacity allowed.

In this moment, it's taking a bite of the croissant offered to him and resisting the urge to lick Noctis' fingers clean lest he start something they don't have time to finish. Of course he'd be aware of it; Ignis may be a filter to ensure that idiotic bullshit doesn't reach his king, but Noctis is uncannily perceptive at points. ]

I'm afraid, darling, that I've decided to run off with a woman I met at the market. She sells spices. It will be a boring life, but you can always come visit me at the stall.

[ Oh. The croissant is good. Ignis shifts in closer (not so much snuggling despite that being the entirely appropriate word) and uses his hands to work around Noctis's body so he can butter and spread jam over half of the croissant he's neatly decided is now his. ]

Perhaps we'll adopt the bat boy the tabloids are convinced lives in a closet here.

[nascere]

[ Noctis makes a little noise when Ignis sneaks half of his croissant -- hey, he was going to eat that! -- but he's ultimately indulgent, an arm coming to drape around his shoulders when he snuggles up (that's totally snuggling, sweetheart, and he's going to take full advantage of that). Forking up the pile of scrambled eggs with no small amount of enthusiasm after scattering salt and pepper on it (all one-handed, mind), he chews and swallows. ]

Good, then you can sell more spices to the kitchens. It's like they're allergic to them.

[ He grumbles good-naturedly, before forking up another mouthful. It's mornings like these that he loves, especially when he gets to spend time with his pilfering lover who has developed a very common habit known as 'not ordering what they want, but stealing food from their hapless other halves anyway', of which Noctis is long-suffering and indulgent. He rolls a cherry tomato towards Ignis with a soft grunt of disapproval, followed by the salad that the chef probably had tirelessly hoped Noctis would one day cave to consume. ]

Make yourself useful if you're going to eat half my breakfast, you thief. [ He hums, his tone endlessly fond. ] Speaking of bat boys, what did you do with all my comics?

[broments]

[ He could move off to the side so he's not so firmly in Noctis' way and vice versa, but this is quite comfortable and truth be told, Ignis likes being this close to him, likes all the ridiculous angles and ways they fit together even when it's difficult. He's never been comfortable like this with someone else before, never had this all-encompassing certainty that someone was the one like he has with Noctis. ]

Rationing is still in effect, and I'm relatively certain that you were the one who said nobility in all its forms shouldn't be treated any different than the rest.

[ He may not have been talking about spices, but still; Ignis is careful to hold them to the same standards they hold their people to in everything, which means if they want special spices at times, he has to go on trips to get them or send someone when they're out on business.

The cherry tomato is popped into his mouth with a quick pluck and he doesn't bother hiding the low, startled noise at how good it is. Fruit grown in the sunlight, fruit that's fresh and sweet, not canned or grown in a greenhouse, tiny and half-withered -- it's a shame Noctis doesn't care for them because they're superb. ]

Organized in your study for you. I took the liberty of picking up a few of the ones you were missing; I'm not certain if they were lost in the move or through time, but you should have the full collection of everything, now.

[nascere]

Mmngh. I hate when I say wise things. It always comes back to bite me in the ass.

[ It works out just fine, especially when Noctis really likes it when he's in the way. What's the use of having breakfast together if he can't cuddle with the one person he loves most in the world while doing so? Ignis is warm and solid -- he might still be taller and that little bit broader, but Noctis doesn't care. He fits perfectly as if he was made specially for him, and he makes sure to wipe his mouth with the serviette before he leans to kiss the side of Ignis' forehead, beaming with open delight.

He might be king now, but it would be a cold day in hell if he were to outgrow his comic books and games -- ten years is not really enough to disavow him of his old loves -- that Ignis would be this thoughtful, arranging his books and filling up his collection without his knowledge makes his heart warm and so, so very full in ways the most sumptuously prepared breakfasts can't manage. ]

I love you, you know that? [ He must have spent a fortune himself, and a lot of time to track those down. ] Just for that, you may have all my breakfast.

[broments]

Oh, don't worry darling, it doesn't happen often enough for concern.

[ Openly teasing, he steals the other half of Noctis' croissant- the one he had broken off a piece of to feed Ignis. He butters and smears it in jam, though this piece he offers up to Noctis' lips for them to split.

Truthfully, while he was aware of the interests that Noctis and Prompto shared (and Gladiolus, to an extent) he wasn't as well versed in every aspect of it. He'd do the research to make certain he had enough working knowledge to have basic conversations or track existing conversations, and to adequately pick out presents that were not ones they already owned, but that was it. Tracking down obscure comics was a lot like tracking down obscure herbs; it took a little effort and some coaxing but was not impossible if you were stubborn enough.

Besides, the sweet kiss and easy as you please I love you make every ounce of effort worth it. Ignis finishes off another tomato and again mourns the fact that Noctis will never really appreciate how good this is, and then laughs quietly as he takes the proffered salad. ]

How lucky for me that my love is so magnanimous - willing to share not just his hated vegetables but even the scrambled eggs.

[ Phone forgotten, he drops it into his lap so he can guide Noctis into a quick kiss, hand cupping his jaw. You could ask, he thinks, and smiles against Noctis' lips, pulling away before he can do anything like chase him. He has speeches prepared, half a dozen of them depending on the circumstances, and the ring is still tucked away, heavy despite him not carrying it. ] I want to share every single one of them with you wherever possible.

[nascere]

Hey! I say plenty of wise things all the time.

[ Noctis is grinning lopsidedly when he decides to lean in to take the delicious morsel from him, boldly giving his fingers a gentle lick and suck, because while Ignis is blessed with superior self-control abilities, Noctis has no such thing when it comes to his lover. It's ridiculous how much and how deeply he loves him, the bond that goes so much deeper than either of them have imagined.

This is bliss, this simple early morning breakfast before the rigors of the day sets in, and he thinks that he could propose right here, his own ring tucked inside the secret compartment in his nightstand, right where he's certain that Ignis would ever look. The kiss, however, drives all thought from his mind, slow and sweet, but it ends far too quickly. The protest dying in his throat, Noctis softens. ]

Me, too. We've missed out on so much time, Iggy. [ His hand comes to cup his cheek, keeping Ignis from moving too far away from him. He wants him close, wants to touch him, to reassure himself that his beloved is here, always. ] I can't imagine waking up without you, now. And it's your fault.

[broments]

[ That is the truth. For all that Ignis teases, Noctis has become wise beyond his years. Not being granted much of a life outside his duty will do that to a man, though.

He shifts the bowl onto his lap and pokes a fork into it so he can start picking away at it; now that he's awake he knows he should have ordered something for himself when he was getting breakfast for Noctis but he truly hadn't considered it necessary at the time. Now, he's quite aware of his foolishness, especially when his stomach protests just salad and a croissant. ]

Have you...considered what your position means now that things are starting to settle?

[ It's not quite a conversation he wants to broach, but suddenly, it's all he can think about. He'd ... just sort of assumed a yes, after everything, but Noctis has a kingdom to consider. He's been extremely set on making sure he does right by everyone even if it's at his own inconvenience. ]

Eventually, the Council will start to bring up questions regarding an heir and everything else attached.

[ They've brought it up three times to him already, but he's shut them down every single time, unwilling to pressure Noctis. ]

[nascere]

[ It's all right, Ignis is so often the quickest amongst them, the strategist with an intelligence so razor-sharp it's terrifying to others who find themselves on the wrong side of him, there's space for error when it comes to mealtimes.

He pushes his muffin and sausage to him, a sure sign of love, but his smile fades when Ignis brings up the question. He's thought of it, of course -- the question of succession has been a nagging one on the backburner, but there had always been more urgent situations to see to and resolve. He had never thought past his days with Ignis, and had always imagined that it could always be put off to another day. What does Ignis think about all this? To tell him that he's considering surrogacy seems like so much presumptuousness that Ignis would consent to spend the rest of his life with him. Kings don't marry their fellow male advisers; it hasn't been done in the entire Lucian history, and that is a tangle Noctis doesn't yet feel ready to undo. Especially when he hasn't even asked Ignis yet.

Of course, their relationship isn't a secret to those in the know, but having a lover and having an heir are two very different things. A king must have a queen, even though Noctis finds that patentedly ridiculous, and what of the political ramifications of such a thing? Would there be any at all? After Luna, he's determined that his marriage and lifelong happiness not be put up as a political pawn. But what if it becomes necessary? ]

They must have already brought it up to you. What do you think, Iggy? [ He asks at last, a knot in his stomach. Surely he must have some ideas, even if Ignis has always made a point of deferring decisions to him. ]

[broments]

[ The gesture doesn't go unnoticed. Ignis cuts the sausage in half with his salad fork and pushes the larger half over to Noctis' side. His half he eats in one go so he doesn't have to say anything before he can think about it, first. Were he younger, more insecure, he thinks he would have worried about the utter lack of an answer there. Now, he realizes they're likely both doing the same thing: feeling each other out.

It's a conversation that needs to happen, but perhaps shouldn't be happening in their bed. There's no way to put it off now, though, so Ignis polishes off the salad with one more bite and then focuses on his coffee. ]

I think that the Council will push you for an answer within the next two years, maybe sooner. I think...I think that my love for you is not dependent on our status or any children, but part of me thinks the idea of expecting you to do anything outside of living your life is unspeakably unfair. The world, of course, isn't fair, but I want to believe that everything you've been through means you've earned the right to choose without people fighting you on it. I think that we've held off on the idea of marriage for various reasons, but it...is related to this and we should, perhaps, talk about what it means.

[ Before, he wasn't sure if he could maintain a relationship with Noctis in secret, keeping to shadows while Noctis rules from the throne during the day and Ignis sneaks into his room at night like the mistress no one can speak of. Isn't something better than nothing? But now...he's not sure what it means that if Noctis is forced to marry, Ignis would likely request that it be broken off, for both of them. It's a sobering consideration to make, but he doesn't think he's strong enough to experience sweet and then never be able to have it again. Maybe that makes him less of a good man than he'd like to think of himself as.]

I think that regardless of what you do for the crown and for your people, I will always be by your side until my last breath, in one way or another.

[nascere]

[ Noctis absorbs this in silence, listening with no intent to interrupt. He's right, of course, on all counts. The council will eventually push him to answer, and with all the uncertainties and upheavals in Eos, even the king himself cannot come up with a definitive response. What if his people really needed a marriage of convenience? Such arrangements are not without merit; he's learned of this ever since he had been a child. But love, love is a different thing entirely.

He looks at the sausage Ignis pushes over, his portion bigger, and the idea of outwardly sharing his life with another while keeping Ignis a secret is blatantly unfair -- he will ask of Ignis the impossible, their love forbidden, like it's a shameful secret. ]

You've already prepared this speech, huh? [ Noctis murmurs dryly, cutting into his sausage and spearing it, offering it to his lover. He needs it more than Noctis himself does, and he can always get second breakfast later. He doesn't miss the thread of sorrow underneath the polished words; how he confirms his love for him despite the uncertainty of Noctis' answer. ]

It will be unfair to you. [ He continues, soft and quiet. I don't know what to do, he wants to say. He must honor the sacrifices made by so many, many of his subjects -- what if choosing his happiness means letting them down? ]

[broments]

[ He's been preparing - or, perhaps warding off this potential ending as soon as it was first brought up to him. The moment the subject was broached, Ignis had started looking into the different situations around them and working to ensure that he knew everything and everyone that could potentially benefit from a marriage to Lucis' king. Of course any country could, but Noctis could avoid it fairly easily by pointing out favoritism.

No, what Ignis is afraid of is that one of the annexed territories - specifically ones centered around items Insomnia and Lucis cannot obtain easily, decides to withhold product or partner with the Empire (or what's left of it) unless the king acquiesces to their demands. They do have power and everything he and Noctis have worked toward is enabling the annexed territories to have everything they had before the Empire took over, including a say in the government. Vallyn has a daughter a few years younger than Noctis. Logistically speaking, Ignis sees the threat coming from there most of all, if anywhere. ]

I've prepared for a...lot of potential outcomes.

[ The sausage is stared at for a moment, Ignis' heart aching but he uses his fork to push it back to him. Unsurprisingly, he has no real appetite right now, justifying it with thinking that what he's eaten so far has filled him. Instead of eating, he cups his coffee in one hand, settles his phone to the side and then shamelessly slides under the covers until he can curl up against Noctis' side, sliding a leg against his carefully so he doesn't knock anything over. ]

Noct, the reason we're talking about this is because both of us, for better or worse, often do what was best for others, not ourselves, despite the unfairness of the situation.

[nascere]

[ Noctis moves, removes the tray from his lap and setting it on the floor when Ignis curls close. It's not often that he does this -- Ignis has never been predisposed for tactility, and that he curls close like this means that somewhere deep down this conversation distresses him. He's pulling him closer, arm around him tightening as he lays a soft kiss to his forehead. ]

To whom much is given, much more is asked. [ Noblesse oblige, he's learned this ever since he had been a child. Privilege has been afforded Noctis but at a terrible price. Brushing his knuckles across Ignis' cheek, he runs his fingers through Ignis' hair, quietly pained. ] Iggy, you of all people understand that better than anyone.

[ Their happiness isn't a factor for this, and it's like he says -- the world is unfair. Noctis is uncertain, aching for him; more than anything he wants Ignis, wants to give him what he's due. And yet, he's aware that there are the few territories that still have leverage over the king. For once, he's uncertain -- he thought this would be easy, that when it all settles down they could broach the subject of marriage. How wrong he is, how he had fooled himself to thinking that he can afford a chance at his own happiness. ]

But you, I love you so much more than anyone. [ He tips Ignis' face up to his, makes sure he's listening. ] In every way that matters, I belong to you.

[ But the king, the king belongs to his people. ]

[broments]

[ It's partially for his benefit, but mostly for Noctis'. There's very little chance that this conversation goes as well as Ignis can hope it will. It's a sensitive subject to start with but it's also one that he worries they may feel different on. No matter the subject, Ignis needs to make sure that Noctis understands that he's not angry, that he's still there in any capacity he can be. The tray is settled aside and Ignis blows out a breath, nearly a sigh, and settles his coffee on it so he doesn't risk spilling. ]

You've been given a duty, the gift aspect is...debatable. But yes, essentially, though I think I'm not exaggerating when I say that I believe you've had more asked and given more than anyone else ever has.

[ Isn't he due a break?

But yes, Ignis does understand it. More than he'd like to, and he's more realistic than he wants to be. Love is a wondrous, monuments thing but it doesn't rule countries. ] In every way that matters, I belong to you as well. I look at you, sometimes, in meetings or over dinner, and am struck by it, you know. The extent to which I love you. I'd always considered it this...nebulous, ephemeral thing and then I felt it and it is wonderful. You're wonderful. Nothing will ever change that feeling for me.

[ He leans up and presses a lingering kiss to Noctis' lips, eyes closed as he savors the moment and then slides down enough to speak again. ]

If this is something asked of you, I won't leave. Regardless of whatever happens, Noctis, my life is yours. It has been since the moment I met you.

[nascere]

[ Ignis is why Noctis allows himself to be selfish -- he's now the only thing that he has that doesn't belong to the greater good, to the people he serves. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and heavier still the burden of it, but the road to his ascension has been paved with too much sacrifice for him to walk away. Ignis, he asks more of Ignis than anyone else, and it's guilt that twists in his heart when he looks down at him, his lips pressing to his again, soft and sweet and with open apology.

Brushing his hair from his forehead, Noctis suddenly finds that Ignis can't be close enough -- despite the brave words Ignis is only human, only just a man, and he knows this cannot be easy. Returning his kiss with equal fervor, his fingers come to stroke up and down the length of his spine, savoring every little moment. ] Mine, as my lover and adviser, Iggy? I won't have one without the other.

[broments]

[ Ignis hesitates a moment and then gives up; he slides one leg over both of Noctis' and straddles him. There's nothing sexual about it; it's intimate and casual, if anything, meant so that Ignis can lean over him and press a kiss to his lips that's chaste, just a lingering touch in response to the question. ]

You will have me by your side for the rest of your life or mine. In what...capacity will depend on how things happen.

[ Ignis wants them to be both, but he won't be secret, won't have to steal hours with the man he loves just so court and Council members can be appeased because of one district or one country's power trip. Hasn't there been enough of using Noctis in a wedding?

He arches into the hand on his back, shivering out Noctis' name on the end of a sigh before his forehead drops and rests on Noctis' sternum. ]

I couldn't watch you have to marry someone else and keep going like this, though. And it may be nothing to worry about but it also may be something that arises that we have to address. You should know that up front. But I would never leave. [ It's not what Noctis is looking for, but Ignis smiles quietly and presses a kiss over his heart. ]

[nascere]

[ This is the best he can ask for and he knows it. Noctis is quiet for a moment, turning to curl with him and pull him close, nuzzling into him and allowing himself to feel the safety of his arms, the promise in his words. He hates that he cannot give him an answer, that he's unable to give him what he needs -- and the measured response makes Noctis' heart sink, just a little.

He's selfish, he knows; and his eyes hardening with resolve. ] I'll find a way, I promise. [ He's staring ahead at the closed door, thinking of the bed they're in, how it has no place for another. He thinks of the ring, secure in the nightstand and designed for Ignis' finger. How much it will hurt not to have Ignis, how much worse it will be for him to marry another. He sighs, hating that their conversation had taken such a turn. Necessary, but unpleasant. ]

I mean, no one wants to marry a king who cannot love anyone else but his adviser.

V1 - Good

[broments]

[ There's no fight. There's nothing but understanding and quiet. Ignis thinks he's grateful for that, maybe, but mostly he's tired. A little sad. Determined. He can't ask Noctis to wear his ring until he fixes this. The ring's weight was difficult when he was trying to think about how to do it, but now it's even heavier with this added on top. It'll be worth it, he swears to himself, to Noctis. He'll make it work. ]

No one worth marrying. And I admit, I'm rather set on the idea of having the king to myself in the bedroom and by name.

[ A pause as he considers it, stroking his fingers down the line of Noctis' jaw, lips curving into a slow smile as the way he leans onto him shifts from because it's convenient to full of intent. That morning, he spends his time relearning all of the places that make Noctis shiver and break underneath him in the loveliest of ways, and that day and night he turns himself to work.

It takes a few solid months of effort, of research, but he's right about one thing. All men have a price. It may not be a monetary one, but men can be bought. He doesn't even want anything particularly nefarious, which helps. One month, he focuses on every single technological advancement he can manage, diverting funds where possible to ensure that Lucis has the capability to begin existing for a longer period of time if one of the territories decides to try and make a power play. Another month, it's agriculture. He references everything that Regis did because if there were an example of how to make a city entirely sufficient on itself with minimal help, it was him.

Things are still busy being rebuilt, but Ignis has an advantage in both the good will their efforts have borne and with the simple fact that Regis was nothing if not methodical and detailed. It's easy to spend his free hours dedicating himself to ensuring they rely on no one. No one can blackmail them into it, no one can strong arm them into it and the first man that tries, Ignis crushes neatly, a bug under his thumb.

The Council approaches him three times and each time he buys time until the third, where he spreads out the entirety of his work in such a small period of time and dares them to object. Even the one who he'd been concerned about accepts it, agrees, and later Monica tells him if this is what you do out of love for our king, I'd hate to see what happens when you do something out of anger for him.

Ignis smiles thinly, remembering the rush of pain and power from the Ring, and his utmost surety that he would use it to make Ardyn pay, to protect his prince with everything he had in him to see this through. It didn't end up well for the last man who went after Noctis.

Monica hums in response and tells him that if he does this now, it is a perfect time to plan for a wedding if they want to aim for the summer, warm and sunny. Maybe on the longest day of the year, she suggests knowingly.

Maybe. Ignis holds that idea in the back of his mind. As far as he can tell, Lucis is in as good of a place as it can be and anyone who could think to make a marriage trade has been handled in one way or another. He still loves Noctis as much as the day all of this began in their bed, the ring heavy, suddenly unbearable.

Now, he places the box on the breakfast tray with no hesitation (he'll eat later, he tells himself, unconsciously mirroring that day) and makes his way back to their room, the soft material of his sweatpants dragging against the floor where it hangs low on his hips. Unsurprisingly, Noctis is still asleep, covered in the mess of pillows and blankets Ignis left him tucked into. The tray is settled next to the bed and Ignis crawls under the covers to slide up and spoon against his back, stroking a hand over his belly while he lays gentle kisses at the nape of Noctis' neck. He's sleepwarm and perfect like this, all loose, lax lines. Ignis shoves cool fingers against his belly just because he's warm and there and tucks cold feet against Noctis' because what is love if not this? ]

I brought you breakfast.

[nascere]

[ You're the only worth worth marrying, Noctis wants to tell him, but his words are swallowed up and swept away by the heat of Ignis' intent and his own answering passion. That morning, Noctis surges up against him, willing and eager and melting into him, crying out his name as he locks Ignis in his embrace, his love for Ignis anchored and whole. Noctis breaks and is remade in his lover's hands, and he leaves marks of his own on him as he unravels Ignis on his own terms, reaches in and wraps around him, swallowing him whole and making him his.

Noctis searches for ways tirelessly, and it takes months and months -- Ignis is shrewd and dangerously clever, his tactical machinations with the other territories and Nifleheim cementing his reputation as a man who is not to be crossed. The man is terrifying in his own right, Noctis has always known this, and woe to all that he has applied himself to. He receives reports and updates, holds up on his end of the effort to ensure that they have a clear path forward; his lover working in the shadows so that Noctis can move forward in the light, the both of them as much a team as they ever were, and there is not one day that passes that Noctis does not admire his incredible skill.

Even Cor Leonis had to take his hat off to all that Ignis has pulled together and achieved, setting up a viable blueprint for the future. Noctis sees little flaw in Ignis' plans, enacting them swiftly and adding his own touch to these initiatives -- after all, Ignis is not the only one in a hurry to wipe out these obstructions. He hears of a rebellion, crushed effortlessly under Ignis' heel, and he hears that the Ignis hadn't even paused to do it. To have such a man given over to Noctis is a privilege for both himself and Lucis, because slowly but surely Lucis gains the upper hand in negotiations, their self-sufficiency a deterrent towards others who were looking for an easy meal.

Cor Leonis tells Noctis that Ignis will make a terrifying enemy when crossed, and Noctis smiles when the man notes that he would dread facing off against him if the day ever comes, and Noctis has never been more savagely proud of Ignis and all that he has achieved for the sake of his king and their people. There is no one more worthy to be his partner, no one more suited to stand beside him for the good of Lucis, and surely the Council will see. Noctis remains steadfast in his support of his royal adviser's movements and initiatives, finds hope in what he does -- and before long Ignis is second only to the king, his word might as well be Noctis', and it is through the great respect he's earned from everyone present in the court that his word is obeyed and given weight.

On a fine morning like this one, Noctis is given over to sleep, soundly snuggled within the pillows and blankets, comfortable and tired out from the night before -- which is particularly terrible when his lover slips back under the covers with him, cold fingers and even colder feet pressed against the warmth of his belly and his feet respectively. Noctis whines, squirming against him in a cranky bid to slip away from where Ignis is snuggled. But there's a problem, he likes the kisses, the warmth of Ignis' lips against his skin. So what does he do? ]

You brought me popsicle hands and feet too. [ He grumbles and tugs at him so that he gets more of Ignis' arm and less of his fingers. ] Terrible.

[broments]

[ Noctis is the best ruler that they could hope to have. Where Regis had worried that a shy boy would have difficulty growing into the man he needed to be to push forward through the darkest times, Ignis had watched him grow from someone that was shy and quiet to someone who commanded crowds through voice alone. The kind of man who led, who learned from his mistakes and made certain that everything he pushed for bettered his people.

No other king was on the ground so often, working with every single person that he could get to. No other king that Ignis could think of was as competent, as serious, as concerned about his people. No one else, after all, had sacrificed everything to get here. There's a list of reasons ten miles long as to why Ignis is so desperately, hopelessly in love with him, and the order changes daily, but that Noctis is the kind if king Ignis would follow into any situation itself speaks volumes.

The days get so busy he doesn't have time to style his hair most mornings. He doesn't want to give up any time he can avoid giving up with Noctis, so in order to have the extra call in the evening to adjust for time zones, Ignis gives up part of his morning routine and showers with Noctis in the mornings where he can. Usually there's a distraction of some sort, which means he has time to blow dry his hair straight, put something in it and hope for the best. That's probably where this morning is going, he hopes. ]

My deepest and most profound apologies, your majesty. [ He smiles into the nape of Noctis' neck, not meaning a word of it as he nuzzles in, petting over his side. ] The popsicle hands and feet will quickly be otherwise occupied if you wake up to eat soon.

[nascere]

[ That's really hot, does Ignis know that? It's really fucking hot to hear him say your majesty in that rich, low purr that does so many things to his libido and his wakefulness that he presses back against him, his hand coming to thread fingers through Ignis' colder ones, keeping him in place.

He's turning around to look at him blearily after a few moments of realising that Ignis definitely isn't going to leave him alone to sleep, and the smell of breakfast is impossibly tantalising. You'd think he'd get used to these morning cuddles and kisses, although today seems to be quite special, what with the breakfast and all.

His hair's falling over his eyes, Noctis notices, and he finally sits up, gently tugging his lover along with him so he can give him a good and proper kiss. ] How is it that you manage to always look so good in the morning?

V2 - Bad

[nascere]

[ Turns out, Noctis was wrong.

In the end, it is Nifleheim that proposes its princess, setting her forward to cement relations between both countries, a guarantee of peace to augment the armistice finally signed between them both. There is no way around this, no maneuver that can be managed -- Noctis buys time, desperately searching for any way out of this, anything except marriage, but the world is never fair, and it swallows up sacrifices for its own sake. Sometimes there is no payoff, sometimes all you can do is bleed.

Noctis resists until it's impossible to delay any longer; he clings to Ignis to the very last moment, knowing how this hurts his lover too, how their love must always take a backseat to Lucis and its people, how sometimes the hits don't stop coming and a lesser man would crumble under the weight of it all.

The wedding happens, and Noctis puts up a front and accepts it as his duty. The bride is beautiful, warm and clever, but she is no Ignis, and he does not love her. She is enamored by the king, this much is clear, but the king loves only his royal adviser, now forever relegated to the shadows. Ignis tries to end it, time and time again -- and Noctis, mired in a marriage he has no say in, refuses. He remembers the conditions Ignis had set, how he could not bear to see Noctis with another, but is he truly with another when Ignis is all that he loves, that even now he is all that he sees?

It's grown more and more obvious as the days become weeks become months, the whispers that the king's heart does not lie with his queen but the adviser, and Octavia, gentle-hearted the way her grandfather wasn't, had borne these rumors with her head held high, her misery locked away in the royal chambers. Consummating the marriage had been a necessary evil, but Noctis had not initiated anymore after that even if he had always been civil and polite to her, just as gentle and ensured that she had everything she needed.

To her, she had seen very clearly where his heart lies, a truth that causes her no small amount of private grief. Kings have always had their own lovers, of course -- she is not naive enough to believe that love often comes out of political marriages, but she had hoped, of course. Hoped that perhaps one day it is her that Noctis orients himself to whenever she enters the room, that it is her he had his eye on when she stays.

Unfortunately for all three of them, neither can have what they want. Noctis wears Ignis' ring around his neck like it's the most precious thing in the world to him (and it is, in every way), and he breaks every rule in the damn book in his continued pursuit of Ignis, no matter how often the latter had told him how an affair like theirs ought to be ended, how there will be no happy ending. Noctis had laughed bitterly and kissed him, and told him that there are no such things -- that he ought to disabuse himself of the fact that there could be a scenario where happiness set itself within their reach.

His love for Ignis doesn't fade, but it becomes dangerous, a sharp-edged thing that hurts with no relief to be found. They try, of course, they try to move from each other in search of that elusive balm, but each and every time the curse of their bond renders such efforts moot.

It doesn't mean that Noctis doesn't hurt when he sees Ignis bringing someone back to the Citadel, to his own chambers. It doesn't mean the thought of sharing Ignis with other doesn't feel like a knife in his chest, keeping him up in his study as he broods, marking the exit for his paramour's inevitable departure.

When his paramour does, Noctis pushes open Ignis' door without so much as by-your-leave (it's his goddamn fucking citadel, he doesn't need permission), anger and jealousy bitten back with a ruthlessness Noctis had always hidden from most others. ]

Did that one work?

LAUGHS AWFULLY

[broments]

[ It's a good match. It's a match that benefits every single party involved and involves no bloodshed for years to come. The alliance of Nifleheim is one that makes more sense than anything else they could hope to do and Ignis, despite spending countless hours in meetings and in the library, can't find a way out of it. He tries everything possible and then debates going a step further - going to the leaders and either trying to appeal to their better natures or threaten them, but won't do either.

Not when it's not just one land at risk for his foolishness, but two.

It will usher in a new era of peace and prosperity, the news claims on the radio in the morning. Ignis resists the urge ti throw his dagger through the blasted thing.

ALLIANCE SECURED - WEDDING DATE TBD! A newspaper cheerfully states, listing profiles of the king and princess directly after. It's not a flattering photograph of Noctis but it doesn't matter; he's beautiful either way, the line of his jaw, the blue of his eyes, the fall of his hair. Ignis sucks in a breath, holds it, and steels himself for what has to come.

( 'It's not that I think you haven't thought this through - I know you've thought about it every single direction you could,' Gladiolus says late one night, their shoulders brushing as they sit in front of the campfire; foolishly, Ignis had accepted the trip not realizing that this was, effectively, an ambush. 'But I know you. You've told the kid no a grand total of what, five times? If I'm bein' real fucking generous here, too. So you're telling me that this-- with this you're going to tell him no for the rest of your life? You're gonna sit there at his shoulder as his right arm and tell him no and you think that's...gonna work.' )

At the time, Ignis had been furious and stung that Gladiolus went through all of this effort just to say he doubted him, but under all of that was the awful sense of agreement. He doesn't think he can last forever with him like this, but he doesn't trust himself to last forever without him like this, either.

It would be easier, Ignis thinks bitterly, if Octavia weren't someone who he genuinely liked. She wanted to like Noctis, she arguably did like him because he was terribly easy to love like that, but she also didn't fight this. He could respect her quiet certainty, the way that she stayed by Noctis' side, just as doomed to unhappiness as the rest of them but bearing it with the same grace. She assists in every new effort that Ignis or Noctis starts; through her they do gain everything they need to rebuild, to help others rebuild.

Sometimes, he thinks seeing the reports of towns flourishing, the letters they receive in from people they've helped over the years - he thinks that might be enough. Maybe this, and staying at Noctis side would be enough. Then, Noctis comes to him, once, twice, a dozen times and every time Ignis thinks no, I'll stop this while his body says I missed you, I missed us. It is rather like an addiction. He'd never picked up smoking, never liked alcohol enough to abuse it. But Noctis -- Noctis is an addiction all on his own. He makes it hours, days, weeks. Twice, he makes it a month before he breaks though he's not even sure he can count those - both were trips when he was away supporting the crown. When he got home it always ended quickly. During those periods, he tries to be responsible. He dates. He tries to make meaningful connections out in this new world that they've sacrificed everything to build.

The men and women he date aren't bad. He's still friends with two of them - one a professor at the local college, who Ignis consults on various matters here and there, and another a doctor, a pediatrician. He owes it to himself during these...breaks, doesn't he? To look into what else -- who else is out there. In a lot of ways, it's almost like a death and Ignis thinks that if he'd died, Noctis is the kind of man who wouldn't have wanted Ignis to grieve forever at his grave. He needs to move on, and while the dates aren't bad, they're just...there. No spark, no connection. Maybe he's too focused on Noctis, maybe he's too picky, maybe maybe maybe. A thousand maybes but none of them matter, because Ignis keeps repeating the same damn cycle over and over again.

Over time, Aranea's work brings her in Ignis' path often enough that work finds its way into the bedroom during these periods. It's simple; they both know that nothing will happen outside of the bedroom and they both leave whatever does happen in there behind. It's the simplest thing in his life, somehow, doing the dreaded mix of business and passion. Funny how that works, hm, Aranea purrs, and leaves a perfect set of teeth imprinted against the meat of his back from where she's got him pushed against the wall. Let's just focus on the passion side, then.

They never linger for too long; both of them are on borrowed time, but it's nice to linger afterward. To press his face into the curve of her throat and let himself drift for a few moments before the tackiness of sweat drives him crazy and he rises to shower. There's a thick folder of paperwork on his desk now - the latest reports from the hunters she's coordinating in each town as a sort of extension of the crown, keeping the outer areas safe from anyone trying to pick them off. In the time it takes Ignis to slide back into his underwear and start looking through it before his shower, Aranea dresses and makes her way out, hood pulled high, dressed in something fairly shapeless, uninterested in anyone seeing her comings and goings.

It's been barely a few moments when the door opens and Ignis sighs, running a hand through sweat-damp, sex-mussed hair, only making it worse. ]

Did you leave something be-- ah.

[ Not Aranea at all, but his king. Wonderful. Ignis tucks the paperwork under his arm to file and resists the urge to cover himself. Noctis has seen him naked too many times to count. Noctis has seen him undone underneath him too many times to count. He shouldn't feel embarrassed. Noctis is the one bursting into his room without so much as a knock, and a little sharp, Ignis starts gathering his clothes from where Aranea had dropped them and wouldn't allow him to retrieve them. ]

If you're not going to be knocking, should I leave a sock on the handle so you don't interrupt anything?

HATES YOU

[nascere]

[ The room smells like sex, and in that moment Noctis knows that he's made a terrible mistake. In his willfulness he has chosen the hard way out, chosen to pierce himself with knowledge that Ignis has found himself buried in someone else, taken his pleasure with someone that isn't him. The weight of it is a punch to the stomach, but Noctis knew, of course -- what had he been expecting?

There he is, nearly naked and mussed and everything that Noctis had thought belonged only to him, and he bites his tongue. He ought to be better than this, but the marriage only brings out all the ugly things he's hated about himself, the things he thought himself above. Noctis had seen him naked before, to be sure -- but to know that someone else had been privy to this just minutes before feels like a stone pressed deep in his chest.

Someone's pressed him close and kissed him, left their mark on him, and jealousy burns sickly down his spine, a vicious, writhing thing that leaves Noctis with the desire to hurt, to claw, anything to dispel all that's gathering inside him. He shouldn't be here, not here with the man that he loves with the worst of himself, but the ring sits warm against his chest like it's its own kind of mockery, and for a moment he's at a loss as to what to say.

What can he say? Ignis is fully within his right to do as he pleases, it's not as if Noctis has an official claim on him anymore, and the knowledge of it burns, scorches inside of him. Finally, cycling from anger, from the desire to snap, he settles on something more genuine, something underlying all of the other feelings. It's late, he's tired, and Ignis doesn't deserve getting snapped at. ]

Must it be here?