Their eyes meet for the first time in years. There she is, just as he always remembered her behind closed eyes: short black hair carelessly laying over one side of her head, scarring along her eyebrow from an old piercing she'd long since forgotten, dark eyes burying the circles under her eyes, and freckles along her nose and cheeks, darkening her olive skin. Her deft hands pockmarked with years of chemical burns and small cuts from hours in the lab. Her dark eyes flick between him and his companions as she sheds her lab coat. She hangs it on a peg inside the door as she enters her home, closing the door too slowly. Ignis can almost feel the tension pulling him in, inviting him, and sighs, never having dreamed he'd see her again. Flashes of her skin on his overtake his mind's eye for a moment until
"Hey, Specs," the prince says, beckoning his advisor's attention, "we're going in without you in a second."
"Right behind you," Ignis says, running a hand through his sandy brown hair and then placing it on his forehead.
. . .
Naya leans on her door, her heart pounding. He was exactly as she recalled. Her hands could still feel his satin hair, and she couldn't get the scent of him out of her mind, Ebony and hair gel, a clean smell with just a touch of franticness. She could feel him touching her, his control masking frustration within him as his hands slid along her body, grabbed her back, grasped the knape of her neck. She wondered if that fire still burned in him. She felt his eyes on her door and sighed. Peeking through the tinted glass at the top of her door, she watched him wander into the tavern nearby, a place she went on any normal night. Her heart continued to race at the thought of seeing him again after all this time.
. . .
Laughter echoes from the tavern as the boys walk in. People notice the prince and his retinue, but for the most part they don't pay them any mind. Wiz had said this colony was mostly hunters and people who were quite far removed from the goings on of Insomnia. It was part of why he recommended they all travel here instead of sleeping at a haven for the night.
"Who'd have thought something like this would be out here in the woods!" Prompto says, excitedly panning the room, taking pictures of happy people with his camera. "Ignis, you really didn't know this was here?"
"The location wasn't marked with any significance on any of our maps, how could I?" he answers. Gladio nods and then speaks.
"Wiz said this was a new colony. Some researcher created an outpost here, and as more people filtered through, it steadily grew," he shakes his head incredulously, "It's still hard to believe this place is doing so well after seeing most of the outposts we drive through. You'd think the empire or daemons would've come through by now."
"Not for lack of trying!" the bartender approaches them, tall and beautiful, Prompto stares until Noctis elbows him in the arm. The bartender continues, ignoring the horseplay, "The woman who set this place up has it really well guarded. Daemons can't get close because of all the lights and generators, and the empire can't find us because of the thick tree cover."
"Woman?" Prompto asks, a little too intrigued. Ignis suspects he already knows what will come out of the barkeep's mouth.
"Her name's Naya, apparently she's some bigshot researcher from Insomnia, sent out here to research the nearby haven and ruins."
So you're still doing that? The doors open as if to answer him, and Naya steps in, dressed in tight pants and a loose tunic. A set of electric daggers sit at her belt, though she doesn't seem particularly on edge.
"Hey, Boss! Got your drink all set!" the barkeep placed the drink she'd been mixing at the bar. A seat was open in front of her well.
"Thanks, Criss," Naya's harsh voice reverberates from her mouth like a shockwave, the tenor tones reawakening Ignis in ways he didn't expect. She makes eye contact with him again briefly and eyes say find me later. "What did I say about calling me 'boss'?" she says playfully, skirting the boys and taking her place at the bar.
"Aw, come on, it's just a bit of fun," Criss winks, carelessly adding a straw to Naya's glass, and Naya takes a deep swig, relishing the burn of the alcohol in her throat. "You run this place and you know it."
"Running It and Keeping It Running are two different things, Criss," but a smile still sits on her lips. Ignis gets caught in her details, the wrinkle in the shoulder of her shirt, the shadow at her cheekbones, the mud in the seams of her jeans.
"What do you boys want to drink?" Criss asks, leaning over the bar and turning to them. Gladio orders a pitcher for him, Prompto, and Noctis, and Ignis orders something different.
"I'll have a Galahdin coffee, with Ebony, if you have it," he watches her smirk from the corner of his eye, and the bartender nods, brewing a cup.
"I'd be delighted, most folks around here order simple shit," she sets to work on his drink, and Gladio and the others move to a table with their pitcher. Gladio gives him a knowing look and ushers the other two along without causing a fuss while Ignis moves next to Naya. As he moves to take a seat in the stool next to her she shakes her head.
"It's chilly. How about we go sit by the fireplace when Criss finishes with your drink?" she asks, her gravelly voice striking him at every syllable. He nods and stands to the side of her. Naya dismounts her seat carefully when Criss comes over with his Galahdin coffee and begins to step toward the fireplace. Ignis doesn't know if she means to, but she draws him in with every step. It's all he can do to keep from stumbling over himself to follow her. He can feel Gladio's eyes return to him and he doesn't care. As he steps away, he hears them far away.
"What's Iggy doing?"
"That's an old friend of his from Insomnia, Prompto, don't worry about it." Ignis pushes them from his mind as he steps toward her.