LET'S PLAY {open post}

[nascere]

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

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[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?

[broments]

[ Oh, he absolutely knows and he absolutely uses it to tease when he wants to. He gets the same thrill when Noctis looks at him and says sweetheart, every inch of him going warm, overwhelmed with it. Lazily, he traces a line where he'd sucked bruises along Noctis' throat, just under where his collar would fall and smiles, terribly pleased with himself. ]

I think you may be biased.

[ Just a touch, just like he is. Rather than try and start anything when breakfast is still hot, Ignis presses a kiss to his shoulder and then to the fingers that are twined together, after he's lifted them to his lips. ]

Before the meal gets cold. The blankets will still be here after, I promise.

[nascere]

Mmmph.

[ Noctis grunts listlessly, still struggling to shake sleep off. But Ignis is being so tender and sweet right now that coming awake isn't as massive an undertaking as it usually is. And it also really helps that he feels those fingers trace over where he remembers he'd left those marks last night, the lovebites that throb so delicately at his touch.

All right, all right, he's awake. Blinking, he squeezes his hand and untangles only to run his fingers over his jaw, mustering a soft, slow smile. ] You know I can't go back to sleep after you work your magic.

[ And oh, how gorgeous he is in the morning light, with the sun streaming in and those green, green eyes so warm with affection. He's reaching for the tray, taken by the food, but the tray has something new on it, too, a small box that doesn't belong there. Something sparking in the back of his mind, the young king reaches for it, curious. ]

Iggy? What's this?

[broments]

I know.

[ Ignis doesn't sound mocking at Noctis' lack of desire to get up or his disgruntled noises. He can't not when Noctis not being a morning person is something that has existed since the start of their friendship and as the years have gone on, Ignis finds that he likes this part. This is why he bakes extra time in to both of their schedules. Little moments like this where things are uncomplicated and normal. Where Noctis is lazily lounging in bed like he deserves to be able to do. ]

You'll find my apologies as lackluster and non-existent as my guilt, I'm afraid, so I won't waste your time with them.

[ It's warm enough outside the covers that Ignis doesn't try to tuck them up around them with the meal. The sun lights the entirety of the bed up in shades of gold and Ignis is struck by it, by how good he looks and by how much he loves him. He wants to wake up to this face every single morning. If Noctis says yes, then they're one step closer. He's not...nervous exactly as he lets Noctis set up and reclines against the pillows at his side to take his coffee. ]

It's a question first and foremost, but afterward, I suppose it's physical evidence of the fruit of our labors.

[nascere]

[ He sets the tray carefully between them and opens the box, a tremor in his fingers because he has half a suspicion as to what it is. It's too small to store a key to a car, and this, isn't this what they've both been working towards, the question simmering in the back of their minds? Noctis has been dying to ask him this ever since they had that talk -- oh, exactly a year ago. It was a year ago, wasn't it?

Six, he'd forgotten the day, how could he have forgotten it? He had planned for something similar, too, but of late he had been wrapped up in the final negotiations with a few of the annexed cities that it had slipped his mind. The box is lavish but elegant, and when he opens it, his heart skips a beat.

It's beautiful. It's stunning, gleaming bright and obviously a lot of heart had been put into it. The detailing, exquisite, and Noctis can swear that this thing took a lot longer to make, and required one hell of a lot of precious raw materials. And then it clicks into place -- Ignis had been caught at the jeweler's because he's there for a reason, for this reason. Ignis is proposing to him, and Noctis cannot help a swell of joy, an elation so powerful that it takes his breath away. After all that they had endured, after everything they had gone through, finally, finally --

-- he frowns, and closes the box. ]

No.

[broments]

[ They haven't talked about it, not properly how they probably should have but Ignis also hasn't made any secret of his efforts. They've been too busy to well and truly try to handle everything via conversation alone. Besides, the king had larger things to focus on than just this, and Ignis was just as much his shield as Gladiolus, just in a different way.

Noctis reaches for the box and Ignis resists the urge to say anything, instead taking a long, slow drink of his coffee while Noctis takes in the sight of it. No doubt he's putting everything together - all the times Ignis had been at the jeweler, the gossip articles about it. Ignis presses a kiss to his shoulder and then --

Oh.

That wasn't one of the anticipated reactions by any means. Ignis stills a moment, halting the knee-jerk reaction of disbelief and hurt and instead flattens a hand over one of Noctis' where he's closed the box. ]

What is it?

[nascere]

I'm supposed to be the one doing this.

[ He turns his head to nuzzle him, before gently extricating himself from him, his hand slipping from under his as he leaves the box where it is. He treasures it, he does, but all he thinks about now is how hard Ignis had worked for this, how he had sacrificed so many nights, relentlessly moving towards their unspoken goal.

He deserves a proper one. Noctis could do without -- if anything, he wants to give Ignis this, he wants to give him something to remember. Gingerly crawling off the bed so he doesn't upset the tray, he pulls open the drawer on his nightstand and fumbles with the secret catch, closing over the velvet box of his own. Determined, he's circling over to Ignis' side of the bed.

The king gets down on one knee before his beloved, the one man who had done so much more than anyone else in securing Lucis' position -- the one man who deserves so much and Noctis is going to work his whole life to give him, and he smiles, opening the box up to reveal the ring within, its own kind of lavish with skulls crafted of black diamonds. ]/small>

Ignis Scientia, Royal Chamberlain, Adviser, and second only to the King of Lucis, will you marry me?

[broments]

I wasn't aware there were rules.

[ Oh, darling.

Ignis barely resists the urge to laugh slightly hysterically and gently shifts the tray over. He had a feeling that they were in similar boats and this only furthers his suspicions. Breakfast is moved to the end of the bed, his coffee settled on top and then he watches Noctis -- sleep rumpled, his hair an impressive mess of spikes -- circle around the frankly absurdly huge bed to kneel in front of him.

All of the prepared speeches, all of the ways he's thought about how this would go, all of it goes straight out the door, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that Noctis is living and breathing and earnest, holding a box with a ring in it. Ignis' heart clenches and for a moment he's overwhelmed with this, with everything. With the realization that they can have this, that everything they've been through has led them here. ]

Every single moment we've been through -- every hurt we've nursed, every difficult day we've pushed on through, has led us here. [ It's murmured quietly as he slides the ring onto his finger and then takes his and places it where it belongs, on Noctis' finger in turn. ] Everything, to get here. There's nowhere else I would rather be than by your side, Noctis Lucis Caelum. There's no one else I would rather spend every morning waking up to, no one else I would rather fall asleep beside. Yes. Forever, yes.

[ They look good. The rings on their hands, metal warm from skin contact, shining. He does laugh, now, helpless and happy, grabbing at Noctis to drag him into a kiss that he misses at first, landing on his cheek until he finds Noctis' lips and fixes it. ]

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?

YESSS LET THE HATE FLOW THRU U

[broments]

[ Part of him wants to make excuses, to usher Noctis out until he can open the windows and shower, covering up evidence of this. He hadn't slept with anyone else that he'd dated; once or twice, he got close, but for the most part, he was finding that he wanted some sort of connection. After loving so hard and so long the idea of not having any sort of emotional connection to someone was...difficult.

Aranea, he respected, he knew. They'd fought together and nearly died together on a number of occasions. She offered simplicity in a world that often wasn't, without any of the issues dating brings. Distantly, he know that he's putting a band aid on the would rather than cauterizing it, but he can't seem to stop himself. Worse, she knows exactly how to read him as well as he reads her these days, knows when it's going to be nothing remotely physical, they're just going to discuss business, knows when he wants to be bent over the bed and made to curse into the pillows. She never calls him on it directly, but she also doesn't hide her disapproval. This time, it takes a tangible form.

Inside the bundle of paperwork is an offer of a job. Merc work with her, under a contract with the crown. She knows enough people in enough high places between the Empire and here that it's an easy play, no doubt. She's offering him a chance to get away from it for a while, to travel and refresh. To be involved in a different way, to protect Noctis in another capacity. It's tempting. When it looks as if Noctis wants to fight, Ignis exhales and presses his hands flat to the table, waiting until he watches those edges soften, hackles lowering.]

She had business to attend to, earlier. It was less of an issue for her to come here than for me to make my way to her hotel. I have an early meeting in the morning.

[ He's not ashamed of passing time with someone else, of trying to move on, but when Noctis keeps standing there and doesn't lash out, he goes for the robe hanging on the door and pulls it on just slow enough that it doesn't seem like he's rushing to hide. ]

If you need something, it won't take me long to clean up and I can meet you in your study.

[nascere]

[ She, is it? Ignis has always been fastidious about who he allows into the Citadel, regardless of whether she has business here or not. That he sent her off without escorts meant a measure of trust -- and there's a short list of women who would have business nearby, and who Ignis trusts enough to grant access. A hotel means she's not local to Insomnia, and from then on it's a much, much shorter list. ]

Aranea?

[ He could be wrong, but at this point she seems the most likely candidate. His heart, whatever is left of it in the months that have passed, is in his throat. How had they become like this, from a fierce, consuming love to this, awkward tension too thick in this room, the smell of sex that threatens to make him sick. For all of Noctis' noble intentions to let him go, to encourage him to find his own happiness, he always comes back to this, the desire to keep him close, the fierce need to have him, still.

It's jealousy that still churns in the pit of his stomach, and it's jealousy that drives him to ignore Ignis' last words -- what he needs, Ignis no longer wishes to give him. At least, not right now. ]

Is it serious?

[ Does he even have the right to ask him that anymore? ]

[broments]

[ Part of him thinks to keep it secret - Noctis doesn't need to know the comings and goings of the people Ignis attempts to date and is wildly unsuccessful with. There's no holding to do that, though, he knows. Noctis is, as ever, his weak point, his blind spot, and this isn't something that he necessarily wants to keep hidden from him. ]

Aranea.

[ It's a quiet confirmation as he tugs the robe closed the rest of the way and ties it in place. His clothing is settled to be washed, now, which means he really, desperately needs a shower because his skin is tacky with sweat and it's desperately uncomfortable. Noctis still stands there, though, looking almost lost standing in a bedroom that once Ignis had invited him into whenever he liked, that they'd done everything in, retreating to Noctis' bed for the clean covers.

Now that he's covered, it's easier to go over to Noctis and touches his arm lightly. ]

Would you want really want to know if it is?

[nascere]

[ Does he, really? Noctis' gaze tracks him when he pulls on the robe, jealousy giving way to an aching longing that is painful in the way it's been a part of him for as long as he can remember. Sated only when he pushes, when he presses into Ignis and disregards everything else while his wife sleeps in an empty bed. ]

Does she love you like I do?

[ Yes, he wants to know. He steps towards him and oh, how he smells of her and sex, and instead of being repulsed, he reaches to cup his cheek, sliding up to curl fingers in his unruly hair, falling all over his gorgeous face. Once upon a time, this was all for him. If he were younger, he would have given into the urge to lash out, to hurt him the way he's hurting right now, but oh, Noctis understands how Ignis hurts, too. This is an outcome they both hadn't wanted, and now there are three of them steeped in misery. Noctis had urged Octavia to find her companionship elsewhere, to seek her own partner who can give her what he cannot; but what about Ignis? Try as he might, he cannot let him go, cannot bring himself to ask him to do the same.

He will take him however he is, even after sex with another -- and Noctis can only be bitter about how far he's fallen, how he's never had a chance when it comes to Ignis. ]

[broments]

[ He wants to escape to the shower not because he thinks that the shower is going to magically fix everything, but because he's a coward. Because the shower is an escape, an excuse for him to leave and not have to deal with the very real sight of Noctis in front of him. ]

She isn't married.

[ Ignis' voice is gentle, the same tone he's used a thousand times over when delivering difficult news to Noctis. This, of course, isn't nearly the same as any of the other news he's had to deliver up to this point. This is another beast, something awful in a different way because they can't fight it. There's no battle to win, no way for them to persevere in the face of everything in their way. This is life and there's nothing they can do to avoid it. All they can do is find a way to live with it.

Noctis' hand slides up, cups his face, strokes over scar and skin and brushes back his hair and it's so, so intimate that every inch of him aches in response. Octavia -- Noctis' wife, damn everything, his wife is waiting in their bedroom while Ignis looks at her husband and wants so fiercely it's like nothing else. How long will you last this time, he asks himself and already knows the answer. ]

We're no longer children, Your Majesty. [ The title isn't meant to hurt but he knows that it has the power to cut just as surely as his daggers. ] Love isn't enough, sometimes.

[nascere]

[ Love isn't enough sometimes, and isn't that something. Noctis finds that he comes to hate that gentleness, the way he delivers them so softly as if the message itself will hurt less if he moderates himself. But this is a different thing entirely, this isn't news that affect the crown -- this is something that hurts. He doesn't hide it when it flickers in his eyes; but there is no way he can walk away from this. ]

Yeah. [ He says softly, and he hates, again, how Ignis addresses him like this -- the title used to be uttered in jest, in warmth and teasing; how it pleased him when Ignis murmured that in bed, complete with the softest of kisses. But now his words cut in the way they've never done so before, but Noctis doesn't pull away, his hand coming down to tug on the knot that holds his robe shut. So what if he needs to shower? Noctis has forced himself to be accustomed to so much, how much more difficult can this be? ] But it'll have to do.

[broments]

[ There's an offer in that folder, a way for him to take a break - to stop this, whenever he wants. Distantly, he wonders if Aranea had given him this without actually expecting him to consider following through. Maybe. Maybe she thought that he would debate it for ages and keep it as a fall back plan in case things went even further south. Maybe it was simply done out of pity. It can't be fun or easy watching a man linger in the shadows, hopelessly devoted to someone he can never have. It has to look pathetic, from the outside.

The silk parts easily, loose knot sliding undone and it slides over the line of a shoulder, sagging. Ignis can't bring himself to fix it, not sure if it's because he knows where this is going and isn't strong enough to resist, or because he wonders if the bruising, the half-moons she'd pushed into his skin will stop Noctis so Ignis doesn't have to. ]

It can't.

[ It's not a no. It's never a no. Ignis closes his eyes and tips his head back but doesn't shove him away like he ought to. ]

Is this how it's going to be forever, Your Majesty? Stolen moments while your wife sleeps in your bed?

[nascere]

[ It's not a no. It's what Ignis says for its own sake -- because Noctis is already more than aware of how this is shaping up, how it looks. Noctis will always chase after him because he never knows how to let him go, because if Ignis runs, he will come for him no matter where he goes. And in all that matters Ignis has him; he has his heart, he has all of his love, which is what is killing all three of them, isn't it?

The silk spills over and he sees the half-moon crescents left on his skin; feels a roiling anger at Ignis having allowed another to mark him so. But this, too, is punishment -- for Ignis and for himself. If he had said no to Nifleheim, how would things have turned out? He swallows against a ferocious swell of possessiveness, reaching behind him to click the lock shut, pushing him back against the bed.

If Aranea had gotten to him first, then Noctis has to wipe out all traces of her from his skin, from inside him, around him. His mouth comes to suck a vivid lovebite on his throat, hands coming to slide the robe off his lovely, exquisite frame. Ignis might be taller, but it doesn't matter. ]

The only bed I belong in is yours.