Like Home
By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-
Author Notes: Written for Ignoctweek 2017.
Like Home
Noctis tried his best not to make too much noise as he climbed out of his car, pocketing his car keys. He was careful as he slowly slid the door shut, pushing against the door with his empty palm to make sure it closed with a low click. He didn't want the door to swing open and set off the alarms; the last thing he wanted was for anyone to find their way up here.
He... he didn't want the Glaive or the Crownsguard to bother them. Not now, not today.
Even stepping on the ground, feeling the crunching of crispy and yellowing grass made brittle from the stifling summer heat, made Noctis keenly aware of just how lumbering he must have sounded to Ignis. Ignis, who had disappeared from Noctis's apartment early that morning after breakfast having said nothing as he slipped the egg onto Noctis's plate and just as silently slipped on his shoes and then slipped out the door.
It had taken Noctis a moment to realize something was up with Ignis. Ignis, who was always there. Ignis, who was always beside him. Ignis, who was always willing to speak even if Noctis wasn't really in the mood to listen.
But that wasn't Ignis that morning and it only took a moment to realize exactly why.
Noctis looked out over the hill towards the Western Wall. The sun was slowly beginning to set, and looking at it straight on gave him a headache. If he turned his head just a little, though, he could see the sun hitting the Wall and the magical wall, sending out a kaleidoscope of colors. It was beautiful, if a little sad. To know that something could take away anyone else's breath, but to know that it caused Ignis so much pain. This beautiful place, this perfect place...
Noctis was used to speaking his mind, to letting things leave his mouth without thinking about the meaning or the consequences. It wouldn't have been the first time, and it certainly wouldn't have been the last. But in the sacred place where the sun kissed the Walls... Noctis just looked at Ignis.
He was on his knees in front of a small placard that had been placed in the dirt many years before. The daemon attack left little of their bodies intact, and Count Scientia, Ignis's uncle, had the ashes scattered across the vales of Tenebrae. Ignis's mother was a Tenebraen woman, one linked to the blood of the Queens, and thus she could not leave. Her ashes, her soul, belonged in Tenebrae. And Count Scientia could not bear to part his brother's soul from hers, in life nor in death.
Ignis traveled once a year to see the place where his family's ashes were scattered, their bodies nursing the sylleblossoms. It stopped after the attack... After Tenebrae was lost.
This place, the little hill that looked to the West toward a place that haunted Noctis's dreams, was a place of solace and comfort to Ignis...
And of course he would be there. Especially today.
Noctis looked down at the sylleblossoms clutched between his fingers. He didn't remember much about Tenebrae, but this was something Luna told him was special. It was the flowers of the hills and vales, something that Noctis hoped Ignis would like. It had taken him months to find a small shop that sold them after his attempts to grow some from the seeds Luna had sent proved fruitless. Though the petals were a little paler than he remembered and maybe a little more easy to bruise, Noctis thought they were still beautiful.
But his palms felt sweaty as he gripped the stems tight in his hand. The grass below crunched as he slowly made his way up to the top.
It was technically the King's land, part of a small woods, but Noctis knew that his father had been the one to put the placard there so many years before. No one would bother them. No one would dare.
"Hey..."
Noctis winced at how his voice cracked, but Ignis paid him no mind. Instead he rubbed his handkerchief across the gold embossing on the placard.
"I..."
What could he exactly say to Ignis? Were there words Noctis could give to him, words that would bring some kind of comfort? That morning Ignis had been so silent and now, remembering the reason why, Noctis felt like he was a fool. Ignis should have been angry at him, disappointed that he once again thought only of himself. He hadn't remembered the day and hadn't said a word about it that morning. If he were Ignis...
If he were Ignis, he would have been furious. The narcissist prince, only caring for himself. Selfish and spoiled.
But Noctis never had a mother to remember by; only the stories of one. And his father… he was still alive. Slowly dying, slowly breaking from the Wall, but alive.
Ignis did not have that comfort.
His hands shook as he got to his knees next to Ignis. The sylleblossoms, so awkward in his hands, seemed more like slabs of marble than flowers.
What should he do? Put them on the ground? Hand them to Ignis?
This was a bad idea. He should have just left Ignis be. Ignis didn't want him here, hadn't invited him here. And really, his father shouldn't have told him where Ignis's special place was. That was a place for Ignis, not for Noctis.
But... the silence. That overwhelming silence that sliced across the void between them… Ignis felt it too, didn't he?
Noctis looked up at the Wall, at the setting sun. He could see a hint of the expansion of ocean. It was impossible to see Tenebrae, but Noctis wondered if he stared out long enough if he would be able to picture another sea of blue. It had been Ignis's home so long ago...
"Do you miss it?"
Noctis looked over to Ignis. His hair was straight against his brow, his glasses pushed just a little too far up the bridge of his nose. His eyes were downcast, focused on the perfectly polished metal. He rubbed his cloth in perfect circles, around and around, hands never pausing.
"Mi—miss what?"
"Do you miss Tenebrae?"
Noctis looked down at the sylleblossoms. "I... I don't. Not really."
Too many memories of burning flowers and blood. Broken promises and shattered lives. The weeks Noctis spent in Tenebrae... It was better if he didn't think on them.
"I thought I missed it."
Noctis stopped breathing.
"When I first came here... I hated this place… Insomnia. The crown jewel of Lucis to all others. But to me it was a prison, the walls built to keep me in. I loathed the Citadel. I loathed the darkness. For a time I even loathed King Regis..."
Noctis looked back to Ignis's face. "You loathed me, too."
Ignis sighed, his hand finally coming to rest at the base of the metal. "Contrary to what you may believe, no. I didn't. Not once."
Noctis swallowed. "I would have loathed me."
"But I'm not you, Noctis." Ignis pulled back his hand and pressed the dirty handkerchief to his chest. "I couldn't loathe you."
"Can't see why not."
"That. That is why." Ignis bit down on his lip, then said, "That is why I could never loathe you."
For a moment Noctis thought that Ignis meant his words, his self-deprecation. But he only realized it was the sylleblossoms when Ignis reached out, fingers tentative, for them.
"Oh... they're for you. I..." Noctis had so many things he could have said. That he hoped Ignis would like them. That they were a gift. That Noctis tried to grow his own but his purple thumbs had ruined them time and time again. "I thought you'd like them."
He wanted to tell Ignis that he did it because he wanted Ignis to smile. He wanted Ignis to know that he was here, that Noctis couldn't say things in words but this was what he wanted Ignis to know. Soft flowers blowing on the wind, a promise that his mouth was worried to say out loud and yet... Ignis deserved to know.
"Thank you, Noct."
Noctis reached up and scratched his head. "Don't... don't thank me. It's... I just thought you—they would look nice."
Ignis didn't smile, but there was a lightness to his face that Noctis did notice.
"How long did it take for you to find them?"
"Not that long."
"Hmm... They're—"
"Not the right shade. Yeah, I know. I tried to find them a little deeper, but this was all they had—"
But Ignis turned to him and lifted the sylleblossoms to Noctis's cheek. The touch of the petals was soft like lips, an innocent kiss.
"That was not what I was about to say, Noct. They're... They're the same shade as your eyes."
The petals moved down his cheek and slowly, reverently, rubbed against his mouth. It felt like a whisper of wind. Or perhaps of lips.
"O—oh."
Ignis took a few seconds to pull the flowers to his own face, pressing them to his mouth. He then laid them across the foot of the placard.
"My mother... she would have found them lovely. Just as I do. Thank you, Noct."
Noctis swallowed as he reached out to Ignis's empty hand. They had never—Ignis had never given any hint, but...
Ignis's skin was warm against his palm and Noctis heard Ignis's breath catch as he laced their fingers together.
"Anytime, Specs. Any time."
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