*In this AU, Noctis didn't die in the end and Ignis only lost his left eye in the Leviathan incident. He can still see with the right. Takes place two years after the sun rises and Insomnia is rebuilt. Just roll with it and don't ask questions. It's his birthday, let him have something nice. Not affiliated with any of my other fanfics thought you might notice some similarities that I had to carry over :3 . Happy birthday Iggy! We fucking love you!*
**Credit goes to Haitori on Tumblr for the idea and the accompanying art. Go check it out.
LA TRAVIATA
Ignis leaned back in is leather desk chair and took his glasses off, rubbing his good eye with the palm of his hand. He glanced out his office window, noticing the sun setting in the western sky. The day was horrendously busy and seemed to drag on. He'd needed to set up four formal wedding locations within the Citadel, one of which was a rush job for this weekend. Another room was for a diplomat's retirement next week.
And it was only Monday…
There was a light knock on the door. "Come in," Ignis called.
One of the young Citadel wards entered. Ignis tried to remember his name. Donnel? Denzel?
"Sorry for disturbing you in your office, Sir," said the young man. "But I was ordered to give these directly to you."
Ignis fished a few Gil out of his desk drawer before giving it to him and accepting the two parcels. "Thank you," said Ignis before the young man bowed lightly and departed without another word. The first package was an ordinary looking tube with Prompto's handwriting scrawled along the side. It read, 'OPEN ME FIRST! 3 Your best buddies!'
Ignis laid the envelope down and broke the taped seal on one side of the tube. With a pop the tube exploded in a sea of silver confetti, sending thin bits of foil everywhere. The spring loaded cup still hung loosely out of the tube. It began playing a high pitched melodic tune of Happy Birthday.
Ignis took a deep, calming breath as he spat out a few of the silvery pieces that stuck to his lip. Both he and his desk were absolutely covered in silver razzle dazzle. Thank the Astrals he'd already put his papers away for the day. He began to wonder if the packages were delivered just before he went home to make sure he wasn't walking around sparkling for the rest of the workday.
The thought of that actually brought a chuckle to the strategist's lips. Prompto may go overboard at times, but his friends actually remembered his birthday when Ignis himself had completely forgotten it. He looked at his clock, 5:13pm. His birthday was only seven hours away.
He picked up the second item delivered. It was an envelope of thick velum with the dark gray wax seal of Insomnia pressed into it. Very official. Ignis summoned his dagger and cracked the seal before banishing the blade again. At least he could be sure there would be no glitter in an official document. He pulled the letter out and recognized his King's slanted handwriting.
Ignis,
First and foremost, sorry for the first package. That was one hundred percent Gladio and Prompto's idea. I'll have someone come clean it first thing in the morning. Don't you dare do it yourself. That's Royal Order Number One.
Royal Order Number Two: You are to go wash the sparkles off and make yourself presentable for a night on the town by seven this evening. Unfortunately the three of us are out of the city on business, and we will make that up to you when we get back, but accommodations have been made for your entertainment.
Royal Order Number Three: You are to take the day off tomorrow. Meaning you are strongly encouraged to not even get out of your pajamas or do anything even remotely productive. The work will be there for you on Wednesday. If you so much as answer an email I will find out.
Happy Birthday!
~King Noctis Lucis Caelum
Ignis read and re-read the letter, especially the 'no work tomorrow' part. Ignis was his own boss and technically he could take a day off whenever he wanted, but he had to admit he was running himself ragged lately.
He double checked his itinerary and made the necessary changes before turning on his out-of-office message before dusting the confetti off his lap and headed back to his room to shower.
Ignis fixed his bowtie, debating whether it was too formal for whatever Noctis had planned for him. It was five to seven and no further word had come as to where to meet or even where he was going. He sincerely hoped he wasn't overdressed for the occasion.
A firm knock on his apartment door pulled him out of his thoughts. He finished fastening his wristwatch as he walked toward the door and opened it, not quite sure whom to expect.
One of the last things he expected to greet him were the malachite green eyes of Aranea Highwind.
"Evening, handsome," she said. When his shocked silence carried for a bit too long she smiled. "What, never seen a girl in an evening gown before?" She picked up one side of it and lazily waved it to emphasize her point. The dress was a pale gray-lavender and emphasized her athletic physique amazingly. For a moment Ignis wondered if it was tailored especially for her.
"Apologies…" Ignis finally said. "I've never seen you in a dress before."
She regarded him from top to bottom. "You're looking rather delicious yourself." With a wink she reached out and took his hand. "Well, if you're going to gawk at me, do it while we're walking down to the limo. I don't want the birthday boy to be late."
"Late for what?" Ignis asked, catching up to her as they reached the elevators.
"Oh, Night Light didn't tell you?"
Aranea never did use Noctis' titles in any capacity and was always coming up with nicknames for the four of them. Even after the coronation. "No, he didn't. What are we going to be late for?"
The ex-mercenary produced two tickets, "The opera, of course."
Two hours later the pair were exiting the opera house into the crisp air of the evening. "I think Madame Genovese did an excellent rendition of the aria, don't you?" asked Ignis, still fully engrossed in the show. He'd been meaning to see La Traviata for years, but had never found the time to go. On top of that it was difficult to find someone who shared his affinity for the fine arts. He would have never thought of asking Aranea, though now he couldn't fathom why not.
"I don't know," she said, "I think twenty thousand Gil each is a bit much to listen to a screaming woman."
Then again… "But it was La Traviata." Ignis said.
"I could scream at you for free," she offered.
Ignis wrapped Aranea's shawl over her shoulders. "Wouldn't that be fun."
Aranea sighed heavily. "Seriously though, I'm pretty bummed out Violetta died in the end. Why couldn't she just go to Paris with Alfredo? Why do things always have to be so bitterly tragic? They deserved happiness. Why can't things just be nice in the end?" (**Cough-SquareEnix-cough!**)
Ignis unconsciously reached up, fingers touching the star shaped scar that ran from his cheekbone to half way up his forehead. "I forget the origin, but I remember reading that some of the best stories, indeed some of the best characters have tragic backstories or tragic ends. It's what makes them relatable. It's what makes them human. If a story has no night to counter the day, then it is not truly a story. Merely a recanting of events. In the end it would fall flat, and not be worth telling. Even in fiction the story is not to tell us that monsters exist," his fingers fell from his scar, "but that they can be beaten, although sometimes at a price."
Aranea's slow clapping brought him out of his own thoughts. "Wow, Specks, I didn't know you were so poetic. Maybe you should write the next opera."
He smiled. "If I did, you would star in it."
"Oh? And what would this play be called?"
"Wicked." Ignis smirked and Aranea smacked his shoulder, smiling in return. "Green's not my color." Ignis locked elbows with her as they walked, she didn't complain.
They approached the limousine as it pulled up in front of the opera house and Ignis found himself not wanting this night to end. He was going to say something, but Aranea beat him to it. "I could use a cocktail. You?"
"I wouldn't complain."
"I know just the place to go," she said as they slid into the back seat. She called up to the driver "Do you know the speakeasy called Floating Vagabond?"
"I do, Madam," said the driver.
"Madam," she chuckled to herself. "Nobody's ever called me that before. Could you take us there, please?"
"Right away."
It wasn't long before they pulled up in front of a 1920s style speakeasy. Noticing the crowd and their attire Ignis wished he had brought a fedora. Before the limousine had even driven away Aranea grabbed his hand and dragged him in.
The place was dimly lit and loud, but not gratuitously so. There was a live brass band in the corner playing swing music as they walked up to the bar and occupied two vacant stools. It was a good thing it was Monday night. Ignis imagined this place would be packed during the weekend. Aranea ordered for him. "Two martini's please."
Ignis was going to order himself a glass of wine, but what the hell, it was his birthday. The bartender had the drinks out in no time, garnished with the traditional olives. She handed Ignis his and held hers up. "To the birthday boy, may he be thankful his friends aren't here to give him birthday punches."
Their glasses clinked. "I'll drink to that." He sipped. It was an excellent martini. "It would be the first birthday in a while I wouldn't end the night with bruises."
"Oh well, now I never said that," said Aranea.
"Hmm?"
"Oh, I love this song," she said, putting down her drink and grabbing his hand. "Come dance."
The song was upbeat and full of brass and percussion. Aranea was swift on her feet as expected from the dragoon, but what surprised Ignis was how skillful of a dancer she was. It had been forever since he'd danced, but her enthusiasm egged him on and soon he was pretty much keeping up with her. They kept at this for five or six songs before taking a break and going back to their drinks.
Aranea finished hers and waved to get the bartenders attention.
Ignis glanced at his watch. It was a half hour to midnight. Normally he wasn't up this late unless he was engrossed in a good book. Yet somehow he didn't feel tired. Aranea's noctural energy was infectious.
The bartender finally made his way over and made them another two drinks. Sliding them her way. "Ignis, have I ever told you I like my men the same way I like my martinis?"
The previous drink was fairly strong, giving Ignis a little sass. "Classy?" he offered.
She nodded and took a sip, taking an extra moment to bite the olive. "Classy… and a bit dirty." Ignis felt color flood his face as she placed a hand on his leg. "So, Ignis, what do you think about getting out of here and having some coffee when we get back to your apartment?"
Ignis swallowed as her hand crept further north. It had been a while since anyone had come on to him. Let alone so strongly. "I don't think I have much coffee left at this particular moment," he said before he really had time to think.
She rolled her eyes. "Please tell me you don't think I mean actual coffee. Look, Ignis," she used his actual name, "I'm not in town for long and I sure as shit don't squeeze into a dress this nice for just anyone. You are an amazing guy and I mean amazing." She had inched closer to him at this point. "With my job I don't have the stability to stick around and have stable relationships like most, but… If I did…" Her malachite eyes came close to him, her cheek rested against his jaw as she spoke. "I would love to be your Violetta…" she tilted her head, "minus the whole dying part."
Ignis was touched. He knew what it was like to sacrifice yourself for your work. To not be allowed seemingly simple things like a childhood, social life, or even relationships. Perhaps he and the dragoon had more in common than he thought.
Ignis finished his martini and put a few Gil down on the bar before saying, "Shall we?"
They crashed through Ignis' apartment door, only barely getting it closed and latched as Aranea tore off Ignis' jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. "Eager, are we?"
She took a break from his shirt and kissed him deeply. Her soft lips were absolute heaven on his. After a moment her fingers resumed their work unbuttoning his shirt and tie. Reaching down behind her he found the zipper to her dress and dragged it down slowly. It was a very nice dress on her, he didn't want to damage it lest he get another chance to see her in it.
As it fell it pooled around her ankles, revealing a black and red lace bra and panties. "Those are the colors I'm used to seeing you in," said Ignis.
Aranea smirked against his chest as she shed him of his shirt. She took off his glasses and put them on the end table. "I don't know, I could get used to seeing you like this too. Sit," she said, gesturing to the bed.
Ignis obeyed happily as she crawled over him and kissed him again, all the while working on his belt. Once it was unlatched she unzipped him and pulled his pants down, leaving him in only his black boxer briefs. Ignis bent to her whim like a tree in a nor'easter as she pushed him back to the mattress and pulled the elastic of his briefs down, exposing him to the air.
"Oh my," she said happily before taking him in her hand. "You're full of surprises. Aren't you?"
Ignis was going to say something, but his breath hitched as she ran her tongue along his length before taking him in her mouth. His head snapped back to the mattress, his eye rolling back as she worked. Gods, it had been too long.
She did this for a few minutes, alternating techniques, pressures, speeds, and angles until Ignis could take no more. Sitting up he ran his fingers through her platinum hair, gasping. She took that as a hint to stop, though Ignis certainly wouldn't have minded if she continued.
He pulled her up toward him and kissed her for a long moment before flipping her over onto the mattress. Somewhere along the line her bra had vanished, revealing her ample bosom to him. He took a nipple in his mouth as he slid a hand into her lace panties and teased the bud beneath. A moment later he inserted a finger, but kept her panties on as he teased her, going just a little slower than he should intentionally.
When she was writhing beneath him he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth while she watched. Now it was her turn to blush.
He slid her panties down as he lavished kisses on her sternum, toned abs, across a scar on her hip, and lower. She gasped as he wrapped her knees over his shoulders. Soon his fingers rejoined the battle and the dragoon was finally left speechless as her body shuttered around him.
When she finished he came back up and kissed her. Ignis could taste just as much of him on her lips as she could taste herself on his.
Ignis reached over to the end table and produced a condom which he tore open with his teeth and rolled on before lining himself up. She wrapped her toned legs around him, egging him on as Ignis pushed in. Once he was fully sheathed he gave her a moment to adjust before she began to move around him.
Ignis realized that night that Aranea made love very much like she fought; fervently.
Ignis discovered that she was not one to idly sit back and let things happen. Aranea rose her hips up each time with Ignis as he came down. Moaning into his lips as she did.
At some point she must have felt like he wasn't going fast enough, because she wrapped those strong legs around him and flipped him onto his back. She rode him like she'd stolen him and it didn't take long before she was clamping down around him again, digging her fingertips into his shoulders as she did. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, thrusting a final few times erratically as he came too.
Ignis panted into her chest for a long moment until their breaths came back down to a normal pace. They were both disheveled, covered in sweat, and utterly soaked in bliss.
In the morning Ignis was briefly brought to a panicked realization that he'd overslept. The sun was beaming through the windows in streams of light as he tried to sit up, but found himself unable to due to the weight on his chest. Looking down he found Aranea. Her silver hair coating a good portion of his torso as she slept.
Then he remembered he was under Royal Decree not to work today.
He laid back down and soaked in the moment.
Aranea might not be able to stay for very long, but at the moment she chose to spend her time with him. And for that, he was quite grateful.
X~X~X
Happy Birthday Iggy. We adore you.
