Chapter 1
Gladiolus felt himself becoming impatient.
He sat in the car, parked up within walking distance of the citadel, as he so often did on Ignis's only free evening. He checked the time on his phone, an irritating habit that manifested itself whenever council meetings began to overrun. He was just glad not to be in there today, his own schedule tied up with the prince. It had been a long day of training and not much time for anything else.
He'd taken the prince out of the city, not through official channels and by no means asking for any sort of permission, but as a test of the boy's strength. Together they fought and brought down a Voretooth, a struggle but a worthy one at that. The prince had done well despite being thrown aside at one point by the beast. He would likely be bruised in the morning; as Gladio assumed, it had done the boy good to experience the fight of a real enemy.
It began to rain, heavier with each passing moment despite the forecast. He soon caught sight of the man he had been waiting for, briefcase in hand and glasses shimmering in the streetlights that lit up the evening dusk.
About time, Gladiolus thought. He'd been looking forward to this all day.
He switched on the engine, windscreen wipers clicked on as the rain grew heavier. Ignis approached the passenger side door swiftly and let himself in.
"Evening."
"You're late tonight."
Ignis sighed, removing his now very soaked coat.
"Apologies."
Gladio indicated to pull away from the roadside, his eyes catching sight of the rather drenched, slightly overtired Ignis in the mirror.
"You can dry off at my place." Gladio spoke, switching on the heat.
"Thank you."
Ignis removed his glasses, drying them as best he could on his shirt which was slightly less wet than everything else. He was not in the greatest of moods, that much Gladio could tell.
"How was your meeting?" The older man attempted conversation.
"Problematic." Ignis replied flatly, hands tightening around the briefcase on his lap.
"What's problematic?"
The advisor exhaled hesitantly.
"An outpost not far from the Weaverwilds.." he spoke softly, replacing the glasses he had carefully dried.
"That's not so far,"
"No, it isn't."
Gladio looked to the briefcase on the younger mans lap, his eyes off the road for just a moment. He felt a pair of eyes on him, intense and scrutinising.
"I will elaborate later," Ignis continued, quieter than before. "I don't want to spoil our evening,"
"Does Noct know?"
"Ah." Ignis uttered, leaning back against the headrest. "I haven't told him."
"Are you going to?"
"For now, no," he replied. "He's not ready."
Gladio nodded, attempting to swallow concern. As the kings shield it was rather difficult.
"Speaking of the prince, how was training?" Ignis spoke up, an attempt to change the subject.
"He did good."
Ignis raised a suspicious eyebrow. Gladio hoped he wouldn't pry further.
"Good you say?"
"Yeah." He replied swiftly, putting all thought of Voretooth daemons out of mind. "Noct did good."
"Well," Ignis exhaled, surprised. "That is somewhat a relief."
Gladio nodded, tired eyes focused on the road ahead.
The pair spoke very little on the short drive back to Gladio's apartment, both too tired and unwilling to discuss their day for a variety of reasons. The briefcase had a lot to answer for, likely carrying the very report that had put Ignis in a downcast mood. It was something they would discuss later, as the Kings shield and advisor. Tonight however was theirs; all mention of daemons were to be forgotten.
The rain held up its downpour as they they parked up and made their way inside Gladio's apartment. The briefcase was placed on the table by the doorway, out of sight and out of mind. Ignis didn't wish to think about it anymore tonight.
"Drink?"
Ignis looked up at the taller man, waiting for him in the kitchen doorway.
"Thank you.."
He followed after the taller man, away from the dreaded briefcase and his soaked coat that he'd hung up to dry.
"You look like you need one."
"Ah," Ignis murmured to himself, adjusting his glasses. "Is that so..."
Gladiolus retrieved a bottle from the wine rack and two glasses, pouring them both a generous helping.
"What I mean is you seem tired." Gladio explained, handing a glass over.
Tired indeed." He murmured, taking a sip.
Tired quite often became code word for terrible day and not willing to discuss. They both had a habit of using it and tonight was no different. Ignis was definitely tired to say the least - stressed and a big fuck you to the Empire however was a better description. Either way the council meeting was over. The briefcase was in the hallway. He was here now, with him.
He looked up from his glass as Gladio covered the short distance between them, placing the wine on the kitchen counter beside, concerned eyes intent on the man before him.
He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the advisors lips, brisk but reassuring.
"Better?"
"I've missed you," the advisor whispered, the first thing he had said all day that didn't concern that damn report in his briefcase.
He let the taller man remove the wine glass from his own hands, placing it curtly on the side next to his own. He lifted Ignis's chin to meet his stare, waiting for the advisor to reach in and kiss him. It didn't take long.
"Wine, dinner, then bed?" Gladio spoke against the small kisses of his younger lover.
"Yes, but I can't stay tonight," he replied, pulling away for a moment. "I need to be at the citadel early."
Ignis watched the taller man frown, the hand that had clutched the side of his face falling to squeeze his arm instead.
"No problem," Gladio replied. "I'll drop you home after bed then."
Ignis raised an eyebrow, unable to react swiftly enough before he was pulled in for another kiss. He really had missed this, he thought, a week without five minutes alone together could be difficult.
Ignis pulled back to remove his glasses momentarily.
"Well that's a first."
Ignis frowned.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You usually leave them on." Gladio retorted, taking another sip of wine.
"You usually complain."
Gladio smiled and handed the advisor his glass.
"When you wear them in bed, yeah,"
He watched the advisor frown as he drank.
"I need them to see, in case you forgot," Ignis replied, placing his glasses away in the top pocket of his shirt.
Gladiolus sighed, smiling at the off tone in the advisor's voice.
"To think that I thought the wine would help you relax..." he uttered, studying the spectacles-free face of the man before him. "You're as uptight as ever."
Ignis finished the wine in his glass, a nervous distraction.
"Uptight you say?" He said, placing the empty glass back on the kitchen counter.
"Go steady, Iggy, that stuff is strong."
Ignis looked to the bottle on the counter - his vision lacking without the help of his glasses.
"Good."
##
Night was swiftly approaching.
The prince returned to his room at the citadel after training - he was exhausted and thankful not to have anything else to do. Better yet, it was Ignis's evening off. That meant Noctis could truly relax and do absolutely nothing. He even ordered takeout pizza on a whim.
After dinner in front of tv and video games he took his time in the shower, cleaned off any hints of Voretooth slaughter from his skin that he had missed earlier and carefully avoided the dark bruise spreading over his left side. It was particularly sore and increasing in ache with each passing hour - there was no way he'd be up for any more training this week. Gladio seemed pleased enough with his progress - bruises included.
It had been quite a number of years since a daemon had thrown the prince around like a rag doll. He hoped it would never happen again, despite the praise and excitement he received from the kings shield. He'd assured him it would not be the last time it happened and he definitely had to be prepared for it or else.
Noctis pretended he was cool with that.
He made his way out of the shower, careful not to slip over on the tiled floor. He dressed himself carefully into his pyjamas, a little overcome with exhaustion from training and desperate to sleep. It was barely an hour into the darkness of evening and yet here he was ready for bed, a guilty pleasure when Ignis was not ordering him around.
The prince attempted to climb into bed, the room suddenly shifting in his vision. It dawned on him that he was not feeling particularly well.
He ignored the messages coming through to him on his phone from Prompto, a little more than distracted by the wave of nausea that swept over him out of nowhere.
Perhaps it was the greasy takeout, he thought begrudgingly, imagining the lecture that would follow in the morning should he be taken ill.
With the assumption that he had simply overdone it today with Gladio, he pulled the duvet around himself, and attempted to sleep it off.
##
The night had finally come.
The city and the surroundings that encircled it were dark, perfectly so, the curtains drawn enough in Ignis's room to blot out the bleak discomfort of Insomnia. Tonight it was particularly troubling.
He'd arrived back at the citadel several hours ago, Ebony in tow to help sober him from the bottle of wine he'd had with Gladio.
Ignis had initially struggled up the stairs to his room, the alcohol doing a number on him, but somehow he made it without waking anyone or drawing attention to himself. Or so he believed anyway.
His bed was comfortable and warm, the sheets clean and ironed by himself, and yet despite the drinking it was not enough to lull him to sleep. An addiction to Ebony had rather a lot to answer for. He was still drunk of course, but his heart raced furiously in his chest from the Ebony. It was an uncomfortable combination of poisons.
Ignis stared at the ceiling, glasses placed firmly on his bedside table with some reading that had preoccupied him earlier in the first hour he had tried to sleep - a report of which came to mix quite horribly with the caffeine in his system and played havoc with his fragile sleeping pattern.
There was not often time for sleep. He had been attending the council for no longer than a few years and remained as it's youngest member. It was an achievement he had barely the time to consider, nor the parental figures to share with.
When Ignis was not in meetings, he was training with Gladio. If he was not training with Gladio, he was usually trying to fit a week's worth of intimacy into one evening with him instead. When he was not being wined and dined by Gladio, he was taking care of the prince and at times, his friend Prompto. He understood the importance and purpose of his role, all carefully considered preparation for his duty as the prince's advisor. He had more recently begun to share a greater wealth of information from council meetings with the prince, a sort of lure to reel in his engagement. One day Noctis would be king. Unfortunately the prince feigned little interest and had other ideas.
Ignis took it upon himself as advisor to carry much of the burden for and on behalf of the prince. The particular report he had collected this evening affected him greatly - it was not the first to do so and would not be the last - yet he had no intentions of discussing it with Noctis any time soon. The prince was not ready for it.
In recent days there had been further destruction on account of the daemon Marilith, a small but densely populated village not far from the city obliterated in the dead of night. The remains of the area itself found charred and utterly demolished.
The King had failed in his multiple efforts to eliminate the daemon who had attempted to murder a young prince Noctis several years ago, and so it continued to roam, hiding in darkness at arms length from civilisation.
As a given, it was only a matter of time before it would try again, razing whole neighbourhoods to the ground in its taste for blood. It was an omen they could hope to be prepared for, a thought that only continued to hinder attempts at sleep.
Ignis pulled the duvet higher up around his shoulders, just gracing the tip of his nose. It was a subtle attempt to try and relax, force himself into sleep somehow and ignore any howl of daemons that crept into the night beyond his window. He shuffled tactfully until the duvet wrapped a little tighter around his frame. His bed was beginning to feel like a cocoon.
Ignis attempted to close his eyes for the umpteenth time that night, fooling himself that it was not as late as it was, despite the clock on the chest of drawers warning him otherwise. It was truly late, or possibly early, depending on how one looked at it.
He attempted to clear his mind of thoughts, a near impossible task by his own standards, shifting all thoughts of attack from his mind.
They were safe in the citadel, that he knew to be true.
And yet for every moment he managed to clear a void in his minds eye, a greater one came to surface, a much darker, menacing irritant that loomed and held on tight with a vice like grip.
In the eventual sleep that came to Ignis, he realised he was dreaming when he could no longer shift such thoughts of the Empire away. He willed himself to be awake, or at least he had thought, forcing his tired self to sit upright in bed. He had struggled to breathe comfortably under the mass of duvet that had gathered around him. A thin layer of sweat had formed on his skin, worsened by a shiver and a heavy pulling sensation across his chest and stomach. Despite Ignis's belief that he was awake and in control, his subconscious had other ideas. Shadows cast in the darkness ignited with a single strand of paranoia he had little to no control over.
The cry of a daemon in the night filtered through to his nightmare, taking form as the presence of the Marilith daemon.
The Kingsglaive had failed to protect the citadel, the Marilith was here and he knew it would come, he thought, tossing and turning to shake off the invisible weight from his body.
His eyes jolted open and he awoke abruptly from the nightmare.
Of course, the duvet had wrapped itself tightly around his upper body, muffling any comfortable attempts to breathe and maintain a comfortable temperature. Ignis immediately pushed the duvet away from its hold on him, oxygen rushing to his straining lungs.
The bed suddenly stirred at his sudden movement, hands grappling at him, a darkened silhouette looming over his face.
Ignis panicked momentarily, an aftermath of the adrenaline brought on by the nightmare. His heart raced violently in his chest at the intruder pulling at him against his will in his own bed. Instinctively his daggers lit up the room with a flash of blue, enough to shake the intruder into an alert of their own, a familiar cry of fear.
"Ignis-"
The man in question lashed out, an uncontrolled flurry of daggers in the dark. His attacker managed to scramble out of reach, in luck that Ignis' vision wavered in the utter bleakness of the room, blinded by the flash of his weapon and the lack of his glasses. He struggled to halt his attack, a dagger colliding hard at the wall with a bang. He was certain he had just missed the intruder, spurred on and off target by overwhelming adrenaline and fear, the duvet being thrown half way down the bed with his remaining dagger raised defensively. .
The frightened eyes of the prince glimmered in the glow of the blue weapon ready to strike its foe.
With delayed realisation, Ignis paused.
"What...what are you..."
A sensation of nausea and sickly fear swept over him. The dagger he had thrown presented itself as a large split in the wallpaper just beyond the bed.
"I could've..." Ignis struggled to get his breath back.
He lowered his remaining dagger, realising he had been poised still to attack.
"My bed..." Ignis spoke, startled at the boy and the look in his eyes. "What are you doing?"
"I-I couldn't sleep,"
Ignis exhaled uncomfortably, leaning forward to grasp the prince by the arm.
"Are you hurt?"
It was hard to see without the help of his glasses, but the prince appeared unscathed.
"You missed idiot..."
Ignis grabbed him by the shoulder, roughly.
"Don't ever do that again."
The prince froze, hesitant at the furious reaction of someone whom he had relied on for calm and clarity. It was the first time he had seen him not only without his glasses, but lacking his usual self restraint and cold composure.
The prince shrugged him off, pushing the older man away as roughly as he had been grabbed. The room appeared to be spinning.
"I'm sorry..." Ignis insisted rather abruptly, his voice strained. "You frightened me, I didn't expect..."
Realising he couldn't see the prince, he reached for his glasses, placing them promptly on his face. Noctis noticed that his hands were shaking.
In the darkness of the bedroom he caught the glimmer of the princes eyes staring back at him, tense and as uncomfortable as he felt.
"Your highness,"
"Noct..."
Ignis paused, studying the annoyance in the boy's voice. It was to be expected - he had mistakenly just attempted to slaughter him.
Again he sighed uncomfortably, shifting his position on the bed in an attempt to pull himself together. The sudden lack of duvet began to cast the start of a shiver.
"Noct," Ignis spoke, quieter and softer this time. "Why are you out of bed?"
He avoided the question of Noctis being in his bed of course, not wanting to make the situation any worse.
"I'm not feeling so great," he replied, his voice tense and shaken. "I can't sleep..."
He watched the expression in his advisors face change from fury to concern. Again Ignis shifted his position on the bed, closing the gap between them.
"What's the matter?"
"I don't know," Noctis spoke, his advisor resting the back of his hand against his forehead.
"You feel a little hot," Ignis murmured. "A possible temperature..."
"Great."
"Do you feel hot? Cold?"
Noctis sighed, leaning forward on his hands as dizziness began to take his toll. He had not expected to avoid murder upon entry into Ignis's room.
"Uh, cold..."
Noting that the duvet was half way across the room on account of Noctis' midnight appearance, Ignis got up and retrieved it along with the dagger sticking out of the wall. He hoped no one had awoken in the citadel from the sound of it.
He was careful not to trip in the darkness, the Marilith all but forgotten and replaced by something else to keep Ignis from sleep.
"Lay down," he ordered the prince, who followed hesitatingly.
Ignis returned the duvet to the bed, making sure that Noctis was comfortable, not too warm nor cold.
"Let me get a better look at you..."
Noctis winced as the bedside light switched on, the warm glow sending shockwaves through his retinas.
"Do you have a migraine?"
"Uh not yet," Noctis replied, closing his eyes sorely. "Just got too used to the dark."
He watched as the older man perched on the edge of the bed at his side, a hand returning to his forehead.
"Are you dizzy? Disorientated?"
"A little," Noctis replied. "But I did just almost become mince meat."
He watched as his advisor frowned, thoughtfully.
"My apologies." Ignis murmured, removing his hand from the prince.
He adjusted his glasses, pushing them a little further up, aware of the eyes watching him.
"Your temperate does feels rather raised." Ignis informed. "I'll bring you some water.."
"I'm not thirsty,"
"It will help."
Noctis watched as his advisor got up from the bed. His vision was starting to blur slightly.
The prince closed his eyes with a sigh, attempting to ignore the threat of impending migraine.
Ignis returned with water and forced him to drink an entire glass, much to the Noct's disliking.
"I hate water."
"I'm well aware." Ignis retorted, placing the empty glass on the bedside table.
"Is this punishment for sneaking up on you?"
Noct expected the man to smile. Ignis remained as serious as ever.
"The water is for the migraine," he explained, matter of factly. "Taking into account your inability to drink water I assumed you might be dehydrated."
"I'm pretty sure I didn't say I had a migraine just yet..."
He felt Ignis's hand return to his forehead.
"You have a temperature. Your eyes are over sensitive to the light. You're in my bed, in the middle of the night," the advisor spoke, his eyes studying the princes face. "I made my assumptions..."
Noctis smiled half heartedly, a gesture unreturned.
"You had better get some rest,"
"I'll try." Noctis murmured, laying back against the pillow. "I'm sorry..."
He watched as Ignis returned the room to its former darkened state and made himself comfortable in the armchair at the side of the bed. The warmth of the older man at his side grew cold.
"What are you doing ?"
"Sleep is required sometimes, Noct," Ignis said. " Did you assume otherwise?"
"Uh no."
"Well then,"
The advisor propped up one of the cushions against the back of the armchair.
"This is a king size bed you know."
"So it is."
"Then get in, idiot."
Ignis frowned at the sharpness in the princes voice, an insult he had heard twice already in ten minutes.
"Would you rather I slept on the floor?" Noctis continued when the reply did not come quick enough.
"You'll do no such thing." Ignis replied.
"I will if you sleep in that damn chair."
Even in the darkness the prince could see the darkening of his advisors stare, unreadable, slightly cold but always calculating. Too calculating for a dignified response.
"Ignis I'm not asking you,"
"I'm well aware, your highness." Ignis explained, rubbing his tired eyes under his glasses. "However I must remind you that you are no longer a child and neither am I."
"Sleep here."
The prince sat up from the warmth of the bed in a state of protest, a little dizzied but insistent.
He waited against the will of his looming migraine until the advisor reluctantly and silently made his way over to the empty side of the bed.
Ignis unusually said nothing. He removed his glasses and placed them along with the empty drinking glass back on the bedside table.
"I hope you're not contagious." The older man murmured, a little colder than before.
"Then I'll sleep in the chair, if that's what you're worried about,"
"Don't be absurd."
It was only at this point did Noctis pay attention to the navy blue cotton pyjamas his advisor had on, having never seen him in any state of informality before. At least not since they were children. At times it was strange to think of Ignis as human, his nuances and behaviours so often very unhuman. He seemed to have more in common with the likes of a magitek soldier, a theory Noctis had often amused himself with.
The prince waited until the older man clambered under the duvet before resting back against the pillows.
"Satisfied?"
"As much as I can be." Noctis replied, closing his eyes as the room began to spin again. "Given that I feel like shit..."
Ignis sighed sympathetically, turning slightly to face the prince. It was an awkward stance for him, torn between his duty to care for Noctis and not wishing to be seen as an overbearing mother figure. Or a lover. Both of which made him feel a little flushed and horribly embarrassed. Thank gods it was dark...
"I'm unlikely to sleep, Noct, but should it happen don't be afraid to wake me if you feel any worse." He assured the prince, sitting up a little against the headboard.
Noctis turned his head to face him.
"Can't sleep tonight?"
"Unfortunately not." Ignis spoke, looking down at the prince with his black hair spread over the pillow.
"You seemed pretty asleep when I tried to wake you."
Ignis proceeded to adjust his glasses when he remembered that they were no longer on his face.
"I would hardly call that sleep."
"Bad dream?"
"Hmmm..."
Noctis turned over against the pillow to face him, the advisors tired eyes intent on the split in the wallpaper across from the bed.
"I guess that would explain the assassination attempt." Noctis said frankly, studying the unreadable expression on Ignis's face.
"I'd rather you wouldn't make light of it, Noct," Ignis spoke, frowning at the damage to the wall. "I could've hurt you."
"You could've killed me damn it...at least you missed." Noct joked, closing his eyes for a moment. "Not sure about the wall though. You'll need a decent picture frame to cover that up."
"Wonderful."
Noctis opened his eyes again, his vision a little blurred but strong enough to attempt to read the difficult man at his side.
"You look tired, specs..."
"That I am." He replied, rubbing his eyes.
"Do you remember the nightmare?"
Ignis turned to meet the questioning of the prince.
"No," he lied, bluntly. "I don't recall..."
"You tried to gut me in your sleep-"
"Noct."
"You won't do it again right?" Noctis asked, half jokingly.
"No." Ignis replied gruffly.
"Well that's a relief," Noctis said, pulling the duvet a little higher up to his chin. "I'm relying on you tonight..."
Ignis turned to face him resting at his side. The prince lay back further into the pillows, his eyes closing with little thought.
"Are you warm enough?" The older man whispered, noticing that the prince had wrapped himself up tightly.
"Less cold now you're here." Noctis replied, his voice muffled against the duvet. "I couldn't stop shivering in my own bed, I even tried putting my coat on under the sheets."
Ignis checked his temperature once again, resting the back of his hand on Noctis' side forehead.
"You're still rather warm."
"I don't feel it." Noct replied. "At least I'm less cold now."
Ignis hesitated momentarily, concerned.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Noctis stretched slightly and shifted under the duvet, eyes still shut.
"Any chance you could come a bit closer?" Noct asked, "you're like an oven."
Ignis's face flushed once again in the darkness at the proposition.
"I can bring you another blanket if you wish,"
"Hey- I'm not contagious..."
"Of course not."
Ignis swallowed his hesitance and shifted closer to the prince, blinking profusely as their bodies came into contact.
"Warmer?"
"Thank you,"
Ignis laid back against the pillow, eyes intent on the ceiling.
"You're most welcome."