Blue.
Deep and bottomless.
If anyone asked, out of all, that blue was what he liked less of the prince of Insomnia.
He never knew what happened behind those eyes. What was hiding behind that inscrutable solid barrier full of absence. Was he lying? Did he even care?
He hated it. He hated not knowing. Hated feeling in the inferior extreme.
It wasn't his intention looking. It was a mere accident and a fortuity movement on the circumstances.
He was there for official reasons, the fact that they were there as well was the weird part.
Ravus didn't like Galdin Quay. To be completely honest, he hated it. It made him feel exposed; without trees that protected his back, without the crunch of the leaves or the birds that in the distance took notice of the company getting near them. There, unnaturally above the ocean, who always seem to judge him with the terrible murmur of its waves that broke on the shore as if they tried to devour the land, with that remote cerulean, almost black, that only reflected the stars in the night like a liquid mirror, he always felt observed. Always vulnerable. Always, horribly alone.
Images of his mother interposing between the fire and himself got mixed with the sensation of being abandoned in the middle of nowhere.
The sea was a dreadful place; one in which he ended every time he closed his eyes and lowered his guard, consumed by his own guilt and his decisions that seem to do nothing but make worse what he tried to recover from the bottom of that abyss. Of that sea with that deep blue color.
And now, again he was in front of that unpolluted window, where that same blue was looking at him without any emotion, calm in the eyes of Regis son.
He turned immediately, searching for the target of that look, finding nothing except the marine extension that raised at the distance. He centered then his attention on the lights, which were off on his side of the glass, probably making impossible for the occupants of that room to even see him. Nevertheless, Noctis seem to be looking straight at him. The air barely touching the stray hairs that were spiked up on his head, moving them as if there were soft tall grass moved by the night quiet breeze.
Ravus stayed still waiting for any exchange of words that doesn't seem to get there soon enough. He wondered if the other one could see him, but those eyes seemed to sharp just for not doing it. And if that was the case, why wasn't he saying anything?
At first, he wondered why the prince would have the curtains wide open, but then he thought about what anyone would have to do wandering in those short decks that every room have surrounding them, walking in the darkness and complete solitude as if they tried to prove something to themselves. So, he understood the little if there was some preoccupation about the privacy.
Anxious to know if he was really seen or not, he got near the glass to knock on it; ready to lecture his other three companions for being more than incompetent when it was about to protect their supposedly future king, when the expression of the raven-haired prince changed softly to a smile that lighter his whole face.
Ravus was more than sure now that he wasn't what he was seeing; Noctis had never smiled in his presence before and until now, he always doubted that he was capable of it, thinking that what her sister told him was only her childish imagination. But there it was. A smile that extended on his face and reached those dark eyes, giving them the spark of light that usually wasn't allowed to the sun on the outside to give.
The prince extended his arms, sitting on the corner of the biggest bed, at the direction Ravus was, mixed with the darkness. But before he could make out any explanation on this, Ignis appeared on his visual field.
The advisor always appeared to him as the only reasonable person in that group. Always serious and responsible, always getting the job done. Scientia was without a doubt someone in who he could give his trust, and who constantly was a waste on Lucian hands. A man full of virtues, condemned to be the eternal baby sitter for that spoiled prince.
He had his sleeves rolled up perfectly a little upper his elbows and for the first time he noticed he wasn't wearing gloves. He was turning his back at him, and he saw the royal crest on the perfectly ironed shirt.
His steps where long but measured, every movement like a practice of a dancing routine that in someway would make him reach the perfection. He arrived where Noctis was expecting him and he allowed him to caress his arms, sliding them over his, the contact riskily intimate, that instead of convincing him of stop looking at move away only made Ravus stay even more quiet in the same place. What was happening?
He observed quickly around the room, looking for third parties, but the absence was just more obvious; there were only the two of them in that room.
Noctis now centered his dangerous blue eyes in the ones of his advisor, his hands lazily crossed behind his neck, barely touching his dirty blond hair.
Ignis had his hands around the waist of the prince, letting him do and reducing the space between both to a line more than invisible, leaning into his temple with his own.
Ravus couldn't believe that. Was that really happening? Was that what it seems it was?
As if he asked that last question out loud, he saw how Noctis slowly moved his arms, so he could cup Ignis face between his hands, getting even closer until closing the space with a kiss.
Everything was spinning, and the mystic and blue emptiness seemed to beat with far away bells in soft waves that scattered from outside to his center. What was all that?
He couldn't look away, Ignis was sitting on the bed, with the black-haired prince almost on top of him, undoing his irreproachable appearance without a second thought, his hands moving with that extravagant grace that his kind portrayed being used to the shimmering touch of magic, traveling here and there, freeing little by little his partner from what suddenly seemed like ties instead of clothes.
The kiss seemed to be the core of those same waves, with its soft and patient movements. Noctis didn't look like was rushing anything yet he seemed like treasuring every second that passed. Ravus observed, as if he was someone else, how Noctis lips stroke Ignis. How he touched every visible centimeter, how he appeared to whisper words that he wouldn't listen or understand but that surely Scientia would feel even under his skin.
He was even more surprised to notice that all the control was on the capricious hand of that spoiled brat and was astonished that Ignis allowed him such. Ignis, who always had everything under a strict control and vigilance. To whom nothing resulted unexpected. Who always foresee more that what time allowed itself, who tamed every space of his being with an iron hand and constant discipline. But there he was, allowing himself to be transformed into a hot mess with every stroke and every kiss. Leaving blindly the power to whom not deserved it.
How could he trust him that way?
Ravus observed how Noctis gave him a little bit more space, taking his glasses away with infinite care. He was hugging him again, his hands tangled in that perfect hair destroying whatever arrangement that existed before him.
And it that simple gesture he understood.
Maybe Noctis wasn't who he thought he was. Maybe he wasn't just a spoiled brat, maybe there was something else in him.
He moved a little, the wood of the dock full of salt accusing him for the movement.
The prince turned instantly, his blue eye on him. Again, he felt like he could see him through that glass in the dark. But this time instead of the bottomless color of the sea, the augury of a storm reflected on his irises.
For the first time, Ravus was capable of seeing what was behind the façade.
He instinctively put his arms around Ignis neck, who was resting his temple against his shoulder, still hugging him. Slowly he allowed one of his hands to caress the hair of his lover, without stop piercing the night at the point Ravus was standing.
He was protecting him. He could feel the vibration of the magic that threatened from the royal blood of the Luci line, the stinging of his artificial arm stitched to his flesh, as a painful warning. He thought in Luna then.
He remembered her smile when she talked about the prince and thought in all the ways that relationship wouldn't work. He couldn't blame Noctis now and if it was possible he felt relieved. He didn't have anything on him, it was simply fate being cruel as always, but he wasn't set with it.
He would fight against every odd for not allowing the prophecy to get fulfilled. Luna could keep living a longer, happy life and Noctis could stay where he seemed to belong, beside Ignis.
The storm dissipated, those blue eyes closing lazily without leaving the embrace, the waves suddenly feeling comforting.
Maybe the sea wasn't that terrible once you knew what it was in it, Ravus thought as he leaved that place as quiet as he could. Allowing them the time that he knew well, they looked as desperately as himself to stop at least one second more.