"We all have our vices," Ignis said lightly, smiling. "I'll just assume you taint yours with half cream and sugar."
WHAT: Ignis has questions. Noctis has confessions. WHERE: Morningside Manor. WHEN: Friday, March 20. WARNINGS: Mentions of death and PTSD. STATUS:Complete!
There had been a great deal to take in since he got here. This world itself was like theirs, before the dark, in some ways - and in others wildly different. Ignis found adjusting, again, to a major change a little overwhelming, though he tried not to show it. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for what he had here. Noctis being here, that was worth so much. Everything, really. But that didn't help him not feel a little frazzled by having to learn the layouts of new places, the sounds of new voices, and the workings of new devices and gadgets. Not to mention just the rules and laws of a place he'd never been in, all of which might be different from his own.
But overwhelming or no, Ignis was grateful. He was also curious. He'd always liked learning new things, so this wasn't an exception, or it wouldn't be once he felt more settled. He was also grateful for coffee, of which there were a great many varieties to try - either in the coffeeshop Noct showed him, or to make at home, once he'd managed to figure out the coffee machine.
There were things hanging over him though, questions he had. Noctis had been gone and returned, in their world. He'd told Ignis that. Ignis wanted to know how, and what it meant. When he walked, Ignis heard the hitch in his step that meant there was a reason he'd had a cane for Ignis to use. (He'd gotten his own with help from Gladio, as soon as he realized.) He had questions, but Ignis had always been good at pushing when it was for the good of the people he cared about, and hanging back when it was for something he wanted for himself. So he hadn't asked, for fear of bringing up dark memories for his friends - who might have many more years of them than he did.
Even if he wanted to broach it, Ignis was a little bit at a loss as to how. So he'd just taken the time he had with them to let them tell him about this world, and they people they'd met in it, and a few other stray things.
But Gladio had gone to do … something with the teenagers he apparently mentored. Which was both surprising and somehow not at all surprising, at the same time. So it was just he and Noct, which meant it was likely a good time to bring up some of it. Only Ignis still didn't know how, and he was vaguely frustrated with himself for that. So instead of doing that, he pushed himself up from the chair he'd been sitting in, finding his way toward the kitchen where he heard Notcis. "I'm not keeping you from anything, am I? I promise I'll be perfectly fine alone." Which he in no way wanted to be, yet he offered anyway.
"Nah," Noctis responded, his voice warm with affection. He was almost grateful for the fact that Ignis couldn't see him staring, but then again, he'd rather his friend be able to see—even if it made things ... awkward. Or more awkward than they already were. Noctis cleared his throat. "This is my downtime. I usually hang around and read. If Umbra visits, I take him for walks. It's kind of ..." He trailed off for a minute, trying to find the words. "Peaceful?" Back home, before their city was invaded and life as they knew it fell apart, he would have worked until he went to bed, and sometimes even from there. After, on the road, there was still always something that needed tending to or fixing. It was different here, though. He had a life.
Something like it, anyway. Noctis was still dead, something he was reminded of every now and then when it crept up on him. He shook it off now, though, not wanting to bring down the mood. Not when Ignis was finally here with them and everything felt right again. "How're you feeling? I can make coffee," he ventured, his voice still just as warm. Noctis couldn't stop smiling whenever he looked at Ignis, and it was probably in his tone, coloring every word to show how pleased he was that they had time together. All of them. It made him hopeful that someday Prompto might arrive, too.
He shifted a bit to reach for Ignis' hand instinctively, but stopped himself at the last second, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "I can also make food but, uh, I can't promise it'll be anywhere near what you'd approve of. The fanciest thing Gladio and I managed without you was mac and cheese. Don't tell him I told you." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, but he was also being quite serious.
"Umbra is here too?" Ignis asked. He shouldn't be surprised, he supposed, what with Luna here as well. He'd just somehow failed to think the Oracles messenger might travel with her. He was being surprised by too much here that he should have thought of.
"Peaceful is good. And a welcome change, I'd think." Noctis had always liked the quiet, whether that was fishing or just time with his friends, he'd never been one who craved business. A more relaxed pace - it likely suited him well. Ignis used to regret having to keep him on schedules he plainly didn't want to be on, when they were younger, and had done his best to try to give Noct time to himself, too.
He smiled a little. "I'm fine. I won't say no to coffee, though I have finally figured out that machine I think, to manage it myself." He resented digital buttons greatly.
He felt and heard Noct move, head tilting toward him. "All those years, and he hasn't managed more than that? At least it's a step up from Cup Noodle," he said with a feigned sigh. "I can make something, if you want to hand me things."
"It ... yeah. Umbra showed up with me when I got here." Gods, Iggy didn't know about that. How Noctis had emerged from the Crystal with Luna's dog at his heels, guiding him back to his friends. It seemed as though Umbra was tied to him somehow, and he was deeply grateful for that. "I don't know what I would've done without him. He's basically a therapy dog now, you know. Helps out sometimes at the office." Eddie had essentially advertised Umbra's services on the network, and now people came quite frequently looking for pets and some quiet.
He smiled at Ignis' comment about the change of pace, knowing his friend would understand. "It's been busy lately," Noctis admitted, not wanting to talk too much about work when Ignis just arrived, but he had a feeling he might like to know what he was walking into. "Me and Caroline were one of the first people to show up about a year ago, and for a while, it was just us and a few others. Now it's ... a lot more than that, and pretty suddenly. We're adjusting." Still not the hectic schedule he had back home, but it was beginning to ramp up. Noctis tried not to worry too much about that.
"Of course you'd go for the coffee," Noctis pretended to mutter, just a teasing comment more than anything. "I'll have some, too." He wasn't much for the stuff, but he wasn't 20 anymore. The caffeine boost helped—even if he took his with mostly milk.
Noctis had to stop himself from automatically moving to get what they needed. He didn't want to railroad Ignis, or make him feel like he couldn't do things on his own. So he waited to see if he'd be needed, huffing out a laugh as their discussion turned to food. "Watch it, Igs. We're trying here. It's a team effort." A team effort that very much didn't feel the same without Ignis.
"You've mentioned the office," Ignis said. "What is it that you do there, exactly? I'm glad you have Umbra to help you, though." Gladio was teaching, he knew, that had been mentioned - by them and by the young man he'd spoken to. But he hadn't heard what Noct was doing, really.
"You've been here for a year? Have there been many changes since then?" Ignis hesitated and then asked, "Gladio wasn't with you the entire type."
"We all have our vices," Ignis said lightly, smiling. "I'll just assume you taint yours with half cream and sugar." Since he doubted Noct's tastes could have strayed that far from what they'd been when Ignis last knew him.
Though perhaps they had. Time could change things, and Ignis was having trouble sorting how long it'd been for Noctis exactly. Gladio had told him, and Ignis still was having trouble properly comprehending it - fifteen years was just so long. He didn't know for Noctis though, not exactly.
He stood, moving toward the kitchen. He'd learned his way around a bit now, but he still needed help identifying things in the kitchen. Particularly since this world didn't have all of the same ingredients and things he was accustomed to. But he thought eggs were likely universal. "Omelettes sound appealing? I'll contain them to just cheese, onions, peppers, and eggs."
"Department of Outlander Affairs," Noctis explained, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Ignis' curiosity was a comfort to him, something very familiar that warmed him through. "Caroline and I started it. We work with the Prime Minister to represent everyone displaced in Vallo." It probably wouldn't surprise Ignis that he'd naturally gravitated toward a position in government. Noctis didn't know anything else, and he wanted—needed to help, not just because he felt for everyone, but because he'd arrived in a pretty bad state following on the heels of his death. Any sense of normalcy helped during that awful time.
He had to think about his friend's next question, though, turning it over in his head. There hadn't been too many changes. Not really. Even if it felt like there had been, given Nyx's sudden arrival not too long after and the surprising news he brought with him. "Gladio wasn't, no," was what Noctis answered first. But he breezed over it, not wanting to worry Ignis about the past. "The only big changes have been the influx of people and random gifts, like Nyx's bar and Gladio's house. Everything else is pretty much the same."
The comment about his vices earned Ignis a sharp, playful, "Hey," but Noctis was smiling. So much so that he forgot himself for a moment and nudged his friend's arm like he used to when they were kids. "Rude, Igs. I'll have you know I've cut down on the sugar. A little." He hadn't. He was terrible at lying.
Noctis made a very appreciative humming noise at the mention of omelettes. Any of his friend's cooking always made him hungry. Without being asked, he started gathering the ingredients, setting each one out onto the counter.
Ignis laughed. "Outlander," he repeated. "That seems like an understatement for people dropped in from another reality. But also like good work, helping settle those who are without homes." Noctis had never wanted the crown, or the titles that went with it, Ignis knew. He'd grown into someone who would make a great king, Ignis truly had believed, but that didn't mean he'd have liked it. A job he started himself though, centered on helping people without an anchor - that seemed more like what his Prince would enjoy and thrive at. When they'd traveled around, taking hunts and odd jobs, it had been the ones that helped people that Noct was the quickest to pounce on.
His expression softened, head tipping. The first couple of days Ignis had been there, he'd kept his glasses on all the time. But he'd started to go without more often, inside, and the sympathy was easy to read in his scarred face. He reached over, fumbling very slightly before finding Noct's arm and squeezing lightly. "You were alone. I'm sorry." Noctis didn't like being alone.
He let go when Noctis nudged him, laughing a little. "So you drink it black and pure, as it's meant to be?" he asked doubtfully.
He'd already sorted out which utensils were where, and Ignis managed to come up with a knife without incident, and bowl and pan. He reached for the onions to start chopping carefully - he hadn't started doing this again since he lost his sight for very long. He'd sliced fingers a few times already. "You're doing well here though. You seem ... happy?" Ignis said, questioning a little, leaving Noct room to tell him more, or not, as he chose.
Noctis hummed in agreement. "You're right, but we had to think of something the native people would easily recognize. It was a balancing act for a while—trying to integrate into life here, but also distinguishing ourselves." He dragged his hand through his hair the wrong way, backwards, as if he still had the same haircut he did as a young man, something he'd never quite gotten out of the habit of whenever he felt sheepish. "But I'm pretty sure I'm boring you with these details," he added, half-amused.
It came as a surprise when Ignis touched his arm. He reached up to hold his friend's hand immediately, squeezing in return. "It's okay, Iggy," Noctis said softly. "I got used to that in the Crystal. And I didn't ..." He trailed off for a minute, struggling to put the words together. He always had a hard time when it was very emotional, but it helped to feel Ignis' hand in his own. That steadied him. "I was worried about what it might mean if you guys showed up here, you know? I didn't want any of you to get stuck."
He was reluctant to break the moment, but he knew he was treading too close to things he wasn't sure Ignis should be hearing right now. He'd only just arrived. Didn't he deserve a damn break? A few days to get settled?
So he helped with the food, or at least, he did whatever Ignis directed him to do—just like always. It felt nice, familiar, and he hoped it did for Ignis, too. "Yeah," Noctis replied, smiling a little. "I think so? It's still been hard without you and Prompto. But Glad and me are talking a lot now. Shocking, I know." He huffed something of a laugh. "So it's ... good. Better now that you're around." Another gentle nudge to Ignis' elbow.
"It suits, it just struck me funny, how simple it is," Ignis said. "It doesn't feel simple, but still, it's fitting." He smiled and shook his head. "You should know me better than that - boring minutia is where I thrive. You seem to be doing well for yourself here. I'd love to hear anything you say about it." Which was true. Ignis had known every aspect of Noctis' life, more or less, when they were home. Here, it was all unknown to him. He wanted that kind of overreaching knowledge again. He didn't know any other way to look after people than to know enough to anticipate their needs.
He looked pained though, and didn't quite manage to hide it, when Noctis mentioned his time in the crystal. "You shouldn't have had to," Ignis said, regretful. "I wouldn't normally speak for the others, but I'm fairly sure we're all more than willing to be stuck where you are." Especially if the alternative was somewhere Noct was stuck in a crystal, stranded by himself.
He let himself settle into the familiar motions of cooking. It was more like what it used to be, with Noct there, handing him things and helping. He finished cracking eggs and set the first omelette cooking, smiling when Noctis nudged him. "It's good that you two found a balance." There had been tension for some time, at home. Ignis understood it, but he'd still regretted it and wished he knew to do more to help. He hesitated again as he started to work on the second omelette while the first cooked, but then thought better of whatever he'd been about to say and stayed quiet.
It shouldn't have surprised him that Ignis was so eager to leap right back into work, or at least, to hear about Noctis' work and potentially get involved. (He privately hoped he would.) "I was trying to give you some time to settle in before I threw everything at you, but if you insist," he said, another smile in his voice. He was so proud of Ignis. It had always been in everything he did, every word he spoke, how much he admired and cared for his longest friend. "I could use your expertise on a lot of things, actually. It's been so hard not being able to run things by you first before I implement them. So much of what we achieved was all thanks to you. I—should have thanked you more. I'm thanking you now."
Noctis got a little choked up for a moment, and it wasn't helped at all by the fact that Ignis looked so pained in the next moment. "Hey. Iggy, it's okay. I promise. It ... it had to happen. For a lot of reasons. I'm alright with it." He'd fought at first, cycled through all the pain and the anger and the sadness. Eventually, it all went away. Noctis gave in to it, and he was still in that place, tired and resigned. Sometimes it was difficult even reminding himself that he was alive, but those moments were thankfully manageable. Gladio knew, and he helped. "I'd rather you guys be safe, you know? But it's good to see you. I'm really grateful."
He could sense, though, that there was something Ignis wasn't saying. It wouldn't surprise Noctis that his friend might have picked up on the changes between him and Gladio, though they'd been careful not to be obvious about it. That just seemed like an added complication that didn't need explaining right away. Not with everything else going on.
Even still. "What is it, Igs?" Noctis asked, giving him an opening if he wanted it.
Ignis shook his head. "I think I'd rather things to do, much as I'm able. Days without purpose are ... not my favorite." Ignis wasn't good at drifting aimlessly. There had been too many days like those after Noctis left them, while Ignis struggled to adapt and find a new routine. He still hadn't really done that, though he was managing far better than he used to. "But mostly, I'm just eager to hear what you have been doing. I'm happy to give you my opinions - but you've been doing this for a year, Noctis. It seems as if you're managing very well without them." He tipped his head toward Noct. "You never needed to thank me." Especially given he had, in the end, failed Noctis.
He shook his head. "We don't know that. There might have been a way to prevent it, and we just didn't find it for you." Or so Ignis had stubbornly believed, even after the vision he'd seen. He didn't think Noctis understood how easily they all fractured without him at the center, and how they all started to crack in different ways and shapes. That, more than anything else, was why they'd started getting distant, Ignis was sure. Their little broken edges had ground against one another instead of fitting together without Noctis there. He forced a smile though. "It's good to be with you. And we are safe. Here and there." How long there, he couldn't say. But Gladio was years older, so perhaps they were fine there too, much as was possible.
He shook his head when Noctis questioned him. After what Gladio and him had talked about, he didn't think it was his place to ask questions about their relationship, or about Noctis' future and risk dark thoughts Noctis didn't need to linger on. But not knowing was driving Ignis a little mad. "Nothing in particular," he settled on. "Just ... adjusting. Trying to sort a new normal out in my mind." He half-smiled. "I don't suppose you'd be able to tell me what the years have changed in you and Gladio, so I can better picture it?" Or what happened to make him limp, exactly.
Noctis huffed. "Just because I've been at this for a year doesn't mean there's no room for improvement. I can always learn something." He poked Ignis' arm lightly. "Besides, I've always been a million times better when I work with you. That hasn't changed. And it won't." There was a note of stubbornness in his voice, the tone he always had whenever he wouldn't be convinced of something—not without a hell of a fight. Noctis had spent enough time without Ignis to know his friend was still an essential part of his life, both personally and professionally, so it felt only natural to add, "You mean a lot to me, Igs. There's no replacing you."
He didn't, however, really see the reverse of the situation: that he was also an essential part of his friends' lives, and being removed from the group had felt the same for them. There were many reasons for that. Growing up, he'd heard so many stories of his father's adventures, only to find most of Regis' friends left him in the end. He knew he asked too much of Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto. He'd asked too much of everyone. And hearing from the Six themselves that his duty was to die—well, it reinforced a few negative things he'd always suspected, but tried not to linger on these days. "Trying to defy the will of the Gods was what got Ardyn into all that trouble," he said softly, but he left it at that. Noctis never really talked about how deeply religious he was to anyone. It had always been a private thing, quiet little rituals he'd do on his own that he'd learned from their priests in Insomnia. He even prayed to the crystals in Vallo, a gesture of respect, but again, not something he spoke to anyone about. The Gods had laid their decree back home, and Noctis would follow it.
Ignis' smile didn't really make him feel better, because he could tell it was too tight, but he didn't push. He couldn't imagine how hard it must be—how frustrating—to be so far behind him and Gladio in time. Not that he was sure when, exactly, that was. Noctis cleared his throat. "So, uh. You're behind us, right? I didn't show up yet." A pause. He was so bad at being subtle. "What time was it for you back home?" How old are you? Noctis almost said, but bit his tongue at the last second.
Clearing the counter of broken egg shells, he hesitated for a moment too long when Ignis asked about him and Gladio specifically. "Our hair is longer," he said, because that was true. "I mean, Gladio's is way longer than mine. But I don't put all that stuff in my hair anymore, and I got stubble. Nothing like Gladio's beard." Noctis returned to Ignis' side, sounding amused now. "Basically, he'd be a lumberjack living out in the middle of nowhere if you, me, and the kids weren't around."
"Well, there's always room for improvement," Ignis teased. He couldn't help but smile though at that familiar note of stubborn in Noct's voice. Noctis, when he set his mind to something, was sometimes immovable as a boulder. It was a trait Gladio and he shared. Thank the Six that Prompto was less fixed when he made up his mind usually, or Ignis might have had more headaches than he did. "I am irreplaceable, it's true." Or he was before. No one had ever accused Ignis of being particularly humble, but not being adept at the things he used to excel at had rocked his confidence, too.
"You are not Ardyn," Ignis said. And there could always be another way. Ignis believed in and respected the gods - it was difficult not to when you'd seen them, or avatars of them. But he wasn't religious, and he had a distinct distaste for the idea of a fixed fate. He'd been more than willing to give his life for Noctis', but that was his choice to make. A world where there was no choice and someone was just born to fulfill a role - Ignis hated that instinctively, and hated it more when it was Noct.
He plated the first of the eggs, sliding it over to Noct and then starting on the second. He'd have made one for Gladio too, but it was best fresh, so if he wanted one Ignis would just make it when he got back. "No. We weren't sure when you would." Or if he would, in truth. Ignis had doubted, even with what he'd seen. He hated that he had. "Gladio said it would be some time still, before you came back to us." And that he didn't stay. He paused thoughtfully. "It's been almost two years, I think, since you were gone." Ignis usually always knew when it was, but time was a little more elusive when everyone was in the dark, their rhythms thrown off by it.
He laughed at the image, more genuine this time. "Of course he would be," Ignis said. "You'd be there with him, fishing for your suppers, if you didn't have your offices to keep you busy, so you probably shouldn't mock him too much." Ignis thought about asking to feel the stubble, but it was strange and too-intimate probably, considering. He just last remembered Noctis clean-shaven and barely growing anything, even after days on the road, while Gladio could start braiding his beard in a few days if you let him.
"And the roasts keep on coming," Noctis teased right back, grinning. It felt good to share a lighthearted moment with Ignis. So much of their time the past few days had felt somber and tense, and while he knew that would eventually pass, it was nice to be reminded of the fact that not everything changed. Ignis was still Ignis. They were still friends. And as much as the I am irreplaceable comment earned a chuckle, it was still true in so many ways. "You are," Noctis agreed. Nothing in the world could convince him otherwise.
He didn't reply to what Ignis said about Ardyn. Maybe they weren't the same, but they were family—and it was Noctis' blood that had caused countless years of misery for people, reverberating through history until, finally, someone had to pay the price. "He wanted to help at first," Noctis said after a brief, tense silence. "He wanted to help and he only ended up causing pain. To himself more than anyone." There was more to it, of course. Noctis was granted the full story in his isolation, and he'd seen what Somnus had done. It didn't escape his notice that they looked the same. It meant he was capable of those things, and if removing him—removing his bloodline entirely—from the world was what would save it, he couldn't really argue.
Noctis sighed, working on the eggs that Ignis passed him. Two years. He didn't have the heart to tell his friend just how much longer he'd be waiting. "I'm sorry. Time is ... different in there. If I'd known how long it would be, I would've fought harder to leave." Not that it would have worked. He'd pleaded, argued, begged, if only to be able to protect his friends. Still nothing. "Bahamut's not very chatty," he added, a weak attempt at humor.
"Oof, another roast." He was smiling in earnest now, not bothering to argue with Ignis' very astute observation. "You know I haven't even been fishing yet? Gladio went camping a while ago, but he was on his own. I keep meaning to ask if he saw any good spots." That he'd left because he was in desperate need of space to figure himself out was something Noctis didn't add. That was Gladio's story to tell, not his.
"Said with love," Ignis said, chuckling quietly. Ignis had taken his "duty" very seriously when he was young, and had taken some time to sort out that at least part of it was likely just to be a friend to the young prince. That hadn't been a problem, but his sense of humor had taken a few months to arrive - and had always been on the dry and sharp side, though always affectionate.
The smile faded again when Noct spoke up, and Ignis took a moment to respond too, adding in some sliced mushrooms to his own eggs, narrowly avoiding slicing a finger, though he missed so he didn't notice. "Perhaps he did," Ignis allowed finally. "But at the end, he cared for nothing but his own aims. That would never be you, Noct." Of that much, Ignis was sure. He knew Noctis' heart. He cared too much for his people - all people - to ever grow into that kind of callous disregard for them.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Ignis said. "You shouldn't have had to be there at all, but if you had to be ... I just hope it wasn't ... I hope it was as painless and felt as quick as it could be, for you." Gladio had told him how long it would be. Ignis hated the idea of Noctis there, alone and at the mercy of forces they had no control over for that long. But unless he managed to do what Gladio hoped he could, and go back and change the course of things, it had already happened. "I would have spared you that, if I could." Maybe he still would.
He flipped the omelette. "You should go. I'm sure he could find a spot, and you always loved it. There's likely new fish for you to yell at for falling off your line, here." Gladio going alone didn't strike Ignis too odd. Perhaps he'd gone to find a spot for the children he watched over, or just for a night out under the stars. Ignis would have said he was a madman for it, if it was always as cold as the day he arrived - but that was an outlier, it seemed.
Noctis remembered very distinctly how serious Ignis had been when they were kids. And yet, he'd never thought that was strange. Ignis was his first friend, his dearest friend, and it had meant the world to a lonely kid sequestered away from the world. That they could still be affectionate with each other even now, despite the years between them and everything they'd endured, was a comforting thought. "I know," Noctis replied, fighting another smile. "I wouldn't have you any other way, Igs."
Thankfully, he didn't catch Ignis almost slicing off a finger, too focused on his own task and the shift in topic. Otherwise he might have been far more alarmed. "I think he was too consumed with anger and bitterness. He held onto it. And yeah, maybe I'm not like that, but I'm also not perfect?" Noctis sighed. It didn't erase the fact that his family was cursed, and by extension, his friends were very much still in danger. What if the Gods found some way to track them down here? They couldn't escape them forever. He wouldn't want to, not if it threatened the livelihood of his friends even more than it had already been.
He was already shaking his head when Ignis said he had nothing to apologize for. That wasn't true, but there was no use arguing the point. Noctis didn't want to fight—not now, so soon after his friend's arrival. It made his heart ache to think about how fractured they'd all been before he was taken by the Crystal. Gods, those were some of his last moments with Ignis. So he focused on the next near-question, surprised by it. "It didn't hurt, Igs. It was more like ... an isolation tank, I guess? After a while, it's hard having a sense for time. Sometimes I—" He hesitated a second. "Sometimes I forget what time it is, even now? So if I seem a little spacey, that's why. I promise it's fine." Gladio would be shooting him a Look for that. He pushed the thought aside, wincing.
Noctis got out two plates for them. "Eh. Maybe." He smirked a little at the memory of him, in fact, yelling at fish. "I don't really want to go anywhere right now? It's—it's just so good to see you. There's so much I want to ..." Too fast, he admonished himself, blushing a bit. "Um. Show you." Bad save. Ignis would be able to tell.
Ignis sidestepped a little to nudge against Noctis carefully. "That's fortunate. I don't know how to be any other way." Ignis could adapt as he needed to, but that wasn't the same as actually changing. He was who he was. He was just fortunate to have friends who liked him for that.
Ignis grimaced a little. "You're not perfect," he said. "But Noctis - no one is. And no one does - or should - expect it of you. Not even you. You don't have to be perfect to be better than someone who was willing to ruin a world - no matter his reasons or justifications."
He paused, head tipping again, expression flickering. Gladio had implied it was more than simple spaciness or forgetfulness. But if that was how Noctis wanted to refer to it ... Ignis wouldn't force him to acknowledge anything else. Not for now. He wanted to ask about the limp, then. If it was his back, or injuries from the fight before the crystal, or what came after. But he didn't press for that, either.
He let it go instead, smiling. He couldn't say the same, but ... "I know how you feel. It's unbelievably good to have you back." So much so that he was reluctant to find his own space, even if he knew he should be. He would. He just liked having them near. He heard the stumble, and turned his face toward Noctis, eyebrow lifting, but didn't ask, just put the pan aside in the sink and washed his hands, letting Noctis carry the plates over for them to eat.
Noctis debated pushing the issue. He knew he could talk to Ignis—or any of the other people from their world, for that matter—about his fears surrounding Ardyn and his bloodline. Being tied to something like that, something that had unleashed a curse upon their world so far-reaching it doomed countless innocent lives and nearly consumed everything they knew, was too much to really contemplate for long. Noctis felt a chilling, bone-deep guilt, and with the way the crystals in Vallo were behaving around him, it could only mean one thing: he was dangerous. The potential lived inside him. It always would. He could feel it whispering in the back of his head sometimes, enticing him to use the immense power he carried. He could probably do things now that Ardyn had, like changing his appearance and worse. So much worse.
But he let it pass. "I get what you're saying," Noctis said instead, feeling tired. "And I appreciate it. Thanks, Iggy." Getting into all of those issues seemed unfair right now, and when Ignis let the topic of the Crystal go, too, he was glad he made the decision not to open up. He needed to be aware of what kind of stress he was putting on his friend. For all Ignis could seem the most calm and collected of their group, Noctis knew he was only human. He deserved time to acclimate to everything—not immediately be expected to bear the weight of his friend's pain. Hadn't he asked enough of Ignis already?
Some things needed to be said, though. Before assumptions were made. That eyebrow raise he earned told Noctis as much. So he set them up at the nearby dining room table with their food, and brought drinks and cutlery over, too, trying to buy time to sort out how he was going to discuss this without making it incredibly awkward.
"There's ... something you should know, actually," Noctis began, taking his seat only after pulling out Ignis' chair first. He was a gentleman, thank you. "It's about Gladio and me, but. Um. It involves you and Prompto, too." So much for not being awkward. He cleared his throat. "We ... I mean, Glad and I—we're together? Romantically. But we've, uh. We've talked a lot about how we feel the same way about you and Prom. Which is ... I know that's a lot. Trust me, I barely have any of this figured out." Noctis laughed weakly and picked at his eggs with his fork. "But I thought it'd be really wrong to keep this from you, or to make you think we don't love you, you know?" Feeling a little better, he ate some of the food, chewing thoughtfully. "Anyway. Think about it."
Ignis loved him, and he wasn't going to ever believe that Noctis could be anything but good for the world. He'd listen and he'd sympathize, but Noctis was inherently good to Ignis, and whatever his bloodline might have done, whatever ills they'd brought to the world - they weren't Noctis' to bear alone. Or they shouldn't be. Power could be used without leading to becoming what Ardyn was, Iggy believed. He'd touched that power when he'd never been meant to, and he'd been burned for it - but he still didn't believe it was inherently entirely dark.
He heard how tired Noct sounded though. Tone mattered a great deal when you couldn't see someone's face. So Ignis let it go too, at least until they'd sat down, and then he just stretched out a long leg beneath the table, knocking Noct's foot gently with his own in a silent sort of apology. He shouldn't be bringing up such things for Noctis. He'd doubtlessly had to work his way through them too many times already. Ignis could spare him having to do it again for his benefit and find his way himself.
What Noctis said next was not what Ignis expected though. Noct always could blunder his way into being charmingly graceless with announcements. It had never gone over well with older people who worked around the palace in Insomnia - but it was one of many things Ignis tried to temper but still loved himself. This though, was unexpected. "Gladio told me about the two of you," he said - largely to gain his mind a moment to work through that. "I was glad that you had one another." True. Not the whole truth, but still undeniably true.
"How you feel about one another doesn't have to be the same as what you feel for me," Ignis said finally, sounding stiffer than usual. Which was Ignis' giveaway that he was either nervous or unsure of himself. "I know you both love me. You needn't worry about ... reassuring me, just because you're relationship with Gladio has changed." If that's what Noctis was saying. Ignis ... wasn't sure it was, and his mouth felt a little dry with what he did think Noct might be saying. But he didn't want to jump to a conclusion and make a fool of himself with it, either.
It made Noctis smile when he felt Ignis nudge his foot under the table. The little gesture was so sweet, communicating a great deal to him even without words. Perhaps it was because they'd known each other so long—longer than Noctis had known anyone else, their budding friendship one of his earliest and dearest memories—that he knew precisely what Ignis meant by it. They didn't need words for that. So he shifted his foot a little to rest against Ignis', gently enough so that his friend could easily move if he felt uncomfortable by the sustained contact. Noctis certainly wanted it, particularly when he began to confess his feelings. Or rather, stumble through them. Some things never changed.
"Yeah, uh," he started, huffing out a shaky laugh. "I ... kind of fell in love with you first, Igs. Way before Gladio," Noctis admitted, a little sheepish. He ran his hand through his hair again and fiddled with his fork. "But I definitely know this must seem weird, and overwhelming, and I don't want you to feel like anything has to change. I just—couldn't let this go unsaid, you know? Maybe, in the future, if you're open to it, we can hash it out." Because it seemed inappropriate to do it now. Ignis was so young. He had his entire life ahead of him—and yeah, maybe Noctis wasn't that much older, but his life back home was effectively over. He still wasn't entirely sold on the idea of his relationship with Gladio, if only because he knew it would hurt him so much more when he was sent home. How could he ask that of Ignis?
He hummed around his eggs, though, appreciative. "Amazing as always," Noctis commented. It was true, but it was also an out for Ignis if this entire discussion made him uncomfortable. He tapped his friend's foot under the table for good measure, and let him decide what they would talk about next. Noctis was perfectly content here with Ignis however they ended up.
Ignis just left his foot there, comfortable with the light contact. He'd never been particularly demonstrative, but he'd missed Noctis more than he knew how to say, and he was happy to take those little moments and offer them when he could, now. And he couldn't look at Noct now, the way he could when he was younger. Keeping this kind of light contact was reassuring that he would know if Noctis was gone, even if that made no sense, since he would hear him go if he left.
It was certainly grounding when Noctis kept going, since Ignis' head wanted to spin. He'd wanted to be able to look at someone a thousand times since he lost his sight, but never more than this moment, so he could map that shaky, sheepish tone up with Noctis' expression and store it away to better interpret. But he worked with the tools he had available.
Fell in love with him first, Noct said, as if that were a simple fact and not a gravity-altering shift. When? How? Why? And how had Ignis not known that? Perhaps he'd never have done anything with it, even if he had known - Noctis had been his Prince, his charge, the center of his world. That was far more important than Ignis' feelings for him being the kind of love that spilled over from duty to romantic and overwhelming. Just as Gladio was his partner in caring for Noctis and his balance in duty, and that too was more important than Ignis' feelings for him evolving into things they shouldn't. So he'd never have said anything … but shouldn't have known.
But Noct said it now, like it was just something to be stated. Ignis was stunned and had no idea what to say. For a moment, he looked both flustered and that young that Noctis was afraid of. Then he drew a shaky breath and he was just Ignis again, composed ... mostly. Noct knew him too well to not see how the little flex of his fingers or shift of his shoulders that gave away nerves. He drew a deep breath and then said very steadily. "I genuinely don't remember a time I didn't love you. It just wasn't my place to burden you with that," Ignis told him.
It was simple for Noctis. It had always been simple, even when he hadn't fully recognized his own feelings. He'd loved Ignis from the first moment they met, and those feelings had only deepened over time. Perhaps he should have seen it for what it was. Certainly by the time they made it to Altissia, Noctis had realized, but then, how couldn't he? Ignis, framed in a backdrop of flowers on every street corner. Ignis, perched on the railing of their small hotel balcony sipping coffee, the morning sun warm on his face. Ignis, smiling, really smiling for the first time in what felt like too long, and Noctis' heart hammering wildly in his chest because of it. He'd known then, and it had been the worst possible time to realize it.
Not that he'd ever been able to say anything. He half-wondered if it was a good idea to do it at all, but Noctis was so tired of keeping secrets. His father had shielded him from so much, and so had Cor, and he was just sick of the whole thing. At least, partially. Noctis found it far easier to be honest about how he felt toward his friends than any of the pain he carried, but then, he'd been raised to keep all that inside. The important part was out now. The rest was up to Ignis, because he truly didn't expect this to go anywhere. Not only was his friend younger than he remembered, but Noctis had always assumed, out of all of them, Ignis would probably have feelings for Gladio.
He stared, stunned into absolute silence, when he was proven wrong. "I—" Noctis set down his fork with a clatter. "You—" He glanced away, then back again, trying to make sense of this. "Me? Really?" Because it wasn't computing. As easily as he'd offered up his own feelings, he struggled to accept what Ignis was telling him about his own. Noctis blushed, leaning back into his chair with a little huff. "Sorry. Um. Wow." He was being extremely eloquent today. Helpful.
Feelings were ... complex. Messy. Ignis had them, but he tried to work around them and put them to the side whenever possible because they complicated things that should be simple. No one who knew Ignis for more than a minute would ever think he didn't care about people. But he also didn't always exude warmth readily when you didn't know how to look for it. Love was, in a way, easier to find because he showed it in the things he did. The food he painstakingly learned to cook to tempt Noct to eat, the way he arranged Noct's schedule to try to give him the most possible time to himself and the least things he hated to have to do. The way he mended favorite clothes of Gladio's instead of just replacing them. Ignis showed his heart in the things he did. And he'd been doing those things for so long that it was easy to write off as him just being Ignis, or even as it just being his job. It was his job, but if it'd been just that, it wouldn't have become his whole life. Noctis had never been just a job or a position to him.
So he'd never said anything, and he never would have. But in his way, Ignis had shown it. He just had never expected that to be understood. Or reciprocated. Or ... discussed. His heart was doing an uncomfortable sort of double beat. But he did smile at Noctis' reaction. It was artless and awkward and ... so very Noct.
Only Noct could know himself and then be surprised the people around him for the whole of his life loved him.
He couldn't see the blush, but he heard the shift in position. "Yes. You," Ignis affirmed, no more eloquent than Noctis with this. "Loving you was allowed. Expecting anything of it wasn't." The King likely would have sent him away, and Gladio and him had always had that unsaid understanding ... which Gladio hadn't kept to, but in another world with Noct alive - Ignis could hardly blame him.
Noctis was quiet for a long moment while he processed this new information. There was some sadness in this—hearing Ignis had loved him for Gods knew how long and he hadn't been allowed to say anything, just one more way his friend's duty had prevented him from finding happiness. It was a strange thing to feel guilty about that, despite the fact that his duty had been the thing that enabled them to even meet in the first place. "I'm sorry," he husked out, reaching for Ignis' free hand before he could think better of it. Noctis squeezed his friend's fingers gently, watching him with a soft expression. "I know you'll tell me I shouldn't be, but I am. For a lot of things." For not saying something sooner, he thought, but let that go.
For now, he wanted to share a quiet meal with Ignis, and catch up with him, and maybe later, once he'd settled, they could talk more. They all needed to talk, the three of them, but it could wait. Noctis honestly didn't know where this would take them now, or whether anything could change. It felt good at least that they had time. He wasn't sure how much, and he didn't want to think too hard on it, either.
"You're here now," was what Noctis said, and part of that was trying to convince himself, too. That this wouldn't all turn to ash like everything else happy in his life. "That's what matters." However else everything ended up falling together was for another day. Noctis felt too warm with the knowledge that Ignis returned his feelings, and he clung to that while they continued to talk, a smile in his voice that never wavered.
Ignis was still processing too, but he caught Noctis' hand, squeezing back. He opened his mouth to say just that. Noctis had nothing to be sorry for. There was nothing about Ignis' life that he regretted, save where he'd come up short for his Prince and his friends.
But Noctis answered it before he could say it and Ignis' smile was small and impossibly fond, not at all masking that, since Noctis knew now after all. "I'm not sorry for anything that I did in service of you, and that brought me closer to you," he said instead, since that was equally true. And just as telling.
Ignis really didn't know what to do with any of this. He wanted to sit alone and process it, and he wanted to analyze it to see what perhaps Noct hadn't said and what he might mean that Ignis had missed. Perhaps it was just an admittance of something that had been or could have been, not something that Gladio or Noctis would still want - an offering of honesty, not anything else.
But the part of Ignis that had just gotten Noctis back, was stranded in a strange world, and young and in love with his Prince and his friends also wanted to ignore that gentle dismissal and hang on to Noct's hand, use it to pull him in and kiss him, just to see what happened and what it felt like.
His fingers tightened on Noct's, like he might do just that. But Ignis took a deep breath. If Noctis wanted to let it go for now, he could do that. He should - there was Gladio to consider and the last thing Ignis wanted was to make either of them unhappy. But he itched to know more and to just ... see. What could happen. What he could have while he was here. If all went as it should then when he found a way back, he would also find a way to change things. So Noct would have a future - and there, it definitely wouldn't be with Ignis. So here ... it could be a frozen moment to take advantage of something the real world could never have.
"I'm here," he agreed quietly, letting go of Noct's hand finally, head ducking over his plate and soft smile still on his face. He let the topic drift - Ignis was good at that, when he wanted to be. He turned it to the town, to the friends they'd made and the teenagers Gladio was teaching. More mundane things that had nothing to do with how very close Ignis had been to yanking Noct into his lap. He could let things lie and just ponder. For a time.