Water Under the Bridge
Solace
Some Years Later
Ignis and Gladio sat together in a dingy bar near where the Lestallum marketplace used to be. Gladio was a few beers in, while Ignis quietly nursed his scotch. It had been a while since either of them had been able to sit down and chat, just the two of them. Since the fight against Cerberus, life had become crazier for everyone. Ignis was now cleared to join in on some missions, so long as he promised to never go alone and to stay close to whoever he was with. Before, this little caveat would have irritated the advisor to no end; now, he was just happy that he was 'allowed' to leave Lestallum at all, once again able to fight and build his strength for Noctis' eventual return.
As for Noctis, there was still no sign of him or his homecoming. Every day, everyone woke up and hoped for sort of indication that he was back, but there was nothing. It didn't matter how many years passed by—Ignis still took the prince's disappearance hard. Some days the anguish was easier to handle, while other days he had to trudge through the motions until he felt the grief subside. On the days he felt particularly sad, he'd throw everything he had into his practices with Aranea. Over time, she began to pick up on these feelings of his and allowed him the chance to let out all the pent-up emotions until he couldn't expend another ounce of energy. At first, she tried to tell Ignis that maybe Noctis wasn't coming back and it was best to move on, but she'd be shot down each time and eventually, she learned to keep her mouth shut. Her tough love wasn't always helpful.
Ignis knew, deep in his heart, that his King was returning. It wasn't a matter of if, but more so a matter of when.
As life moved on around them, it got harder and harder for Ignis to meet up with Aranea as both of their schedules continued to clash, though they still tried to get in as much sparring practice as possible with each other as they could. Today, while Aranea prepared to leave for Hammerhead with Talcott, Gladio and Ignis were trying to catch up on the weeks and months past, attempting to squeeze in everything they could before Ignis was due to leave with Prompto to Vesperpool for the next few days.
"How has training with Aranea been, lately?" Gladio asked, taking another long swig of his cold beer.
"Fine. Can't complain. Still the same," Ignis curtly replied while he shrugged, clinking his fingernail against his glass nervously. His mouth was tight and he kept his face forward as if he were studying something behind the bar counter.
Gladio let out a snicker, seeing how uncomfortable Ignis appeared when their conversation switched to the subject of Aranea. "Don't tell me you two are still dancing around the fact that you have feelings for each other."
"That would be the case if either of us had feelings for each other in the first place," Ignis countered defensively, knocking back the rest of his drink and pushing the empty glass to the edge of the counter for a refill.
"Oh, please, Iggy; it's so obvious to everyone that you two are practically in love," Gladio kicked Ignis' stool flippantly. "Well, obvious to everyone except the two of you."
"And why do you think that?"
"For starters, you changed your hair for her."
"I didn't change my hair for anyone but myself. It was becoming cumbersome to continually style it the way I used to."
"Uh-huh. What about the time Prompto caught you two in the kitchenette feeding each other?"
"Dammit Prompto . . ." Ignis muttered under his breath as another drink was placed in front of him. He felt around the counter before he found it and took it in his hand, side-eyeing Gladio. "I was elbow-deep in dish water."
The smirk on Gladio's face grew with every lame justification. "Ok, fair enough; but did you conveniently forget when she ran and kissed you after that fight against Cerberus?"
"I beg your pardon?" the advisor glared, one eyebrow raised and his glass poised by his lips as he prepared to take another sip.
"Aranea kissed you. She could have shaken your hand or high-fived you or a million other things to express her pride in you, but she kissed you."
"Gladio, please. We've already established that the kiss occurred in the heat of the moment and meant nothing. It still means nothing, so if you will, please drop it."
Gladio pointed the neck of his beer bottle at his friend, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, that's right, you're blind," he acknowledged as if this was brand new information. "Well, let me tell you what you're failing to literally see: whenever you come into a room, she looks at you like you're the only one around. Whenever you come up in a conversation, she'll go from bored to interested in zero seconds flat. Your name leaves her lips more than anyone else's names in all of Lucis . . . hell, even Eos. I've never seen a woman so enamored over someone as I've seen with Aranea and you.
And let's not leave out the fact that you—yeah, you—turn into this undone mess of a person who can barely string together five words around her. I mean, for someone who apparently does not have any sort of feelings or emotions for Aranea, you sure do have the tendency to fall apart in her presence."
Ignis snorted into his drink and shook his head, smirking. "You've gone mad, my friend. She's made it perfectly clear where we stand."
"But that's not where you want to stand, is it?"
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to," Gladio said, but Ignis once again shrugged off his allegations and Gladio took another drink of his beer. "Cut the shit, Iggy. You're not fooling anyone. We all know you have the hots for her and that she has it bad for you."
"Who and bad for whom?"
Both men choked on their drinks as Aranea pulled up a seat beside them at the bar, propping her elbow up on the bar counter and raising an eyebrow their way. She sat next to Ignis on his right, but leaned forward just enough to give a knowing glower past him, aimed directly at Gladio.
"Oh, no one. Just some random girl. You don't know her," Gladio recovered, still coughing while trying to get the bartender's attention for another beer. The bartender acknowledged him with a wink and he turned back to a red-faced Ignis and a skeptical Aranea.
"I'm pretty sure I know everyone in this stupid town," she deadpanned.
"Maybe you don't?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed. "I'll act like you're a good liar and let you off this time, but next time work on your delivery and maybe I'll buy what it is you're telling me." She turned her attention to Ignis. "Anyway, the real reason I'm here: Cor has an assignment for us. Some daemons are getting out of hand near the Vesperpool area and we need to go take care of it."
Ignis frowned, his brows furrowed. "Odd; Prompto and I were placed on that mission and you were on the Hammerhead errand for the next few days."
Aranea reclined back on her stool and stretched before making light of the sudden alteration in arrangements. "Yeah, well, plans changed and Cor switched me with Sunshine Boy. Your buddy didn't seem to mind all that much since it meant going to see Little Miss Mechanic. He practically busted out of his skin in excitement. Besides, it works out for me; bringing Cid back and getting a tune-up on our vehicles is such a dull assignment. If I'm going somewhere, there better be some daemons to kill."
Due to Cid's age, everyone thought it was within his best interest to move from Hammerhead to Lestallum, where access to healthcare was slightly better (though that wasn't saying much since Hammerhead just contained a garage and an abandoned diner, while Lestallum housed only a handful of trained medics). Cid fought the decision tooth and nail, but after Cindy, his granddaughter and light of his life, nearly begged him to resettle his life in the larger city, he relented and packed up his things. Now, apparently, it was Prompto and Talcott's duty to move him from the garage-turned-daemon slayer-station to the city.
Gladio snickered at the abrupt plan adjustment. "Oh, yeah, sure; Cor switched you. You had no say in this at all, despite being second-in-command?" he baited as he flashed a deliberate sneer in her direction, but his expression slackened when the bartender brought him a new, cold beer. He mouthed a 'thank you' with a look of adoration in his eyes.
"What are you implying?" Aranea warned while Ignis, wide-eyed and hunched in his seat, tried to gulp down his drink in an effort to avoid the conversation at hand. Gladio chuckled again and turned away, done trying to get any worthwhile and juicy information out of the woman.
Aranea took Ignis' hand and pulled him from his stool as she jumped down from hers. "Come on. The all-powerful Marshal asked that we head out soon and I already have the truck packed up and ready to go. I'm thinking we'll only be gone for a couple of days."
As Aranea began to tug Ignis from the bar to the door, Gladio called out: "You kids have fun!" She threw her middle finger over her shoulder as Ignis looked helplessly behind him.
As Aranea continued to drag him out of the bar, muttering incoherent nonsense about how Gladio was stupid and didn't know what he was talking about, a conversation caused Ignis to jerk away without warning, surprising Aranea in the process. Though the bar was empty, there was one other pair of hunters sitting at a nearby table. They were talking heatedly and Ignis immediately picked up on their exchange. It didn't take long for a chill to settle in his stomach and a slight uptick in his heartbeat to be felt in his chest.
"—purple hair and super nice robes? I doubt it."
"Oh my gosh, yes! I know what I saw! It was the Chancellor!"
"Dude, are you sure? I thought the Chancellor died years ago. No one's seen or heard from him since the fall of Niflheim. It was probably someone else."
"No, dude. I swear, it was him!"
"Why on Eos would the Chancellor, Ardyn Izunia, be roaming about when he could easily just come in here? It doesn't make any sense. You're crazy."
Having also heard the discussion taking place, Aranea tried to reach for Ignis' hand again and he wrenched away once more. "Aranea, please," he hissed, one ear cocked toward the pair of hunters as he attempted to eavesdrop.
She rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "For fuck's sake, Ignis; they're drunk! They don't know what the hell they're talking about, ok? They probably saw some stupid punk kid playing dress up or something."
Ignis swiped her hand away again, his expression a mix of horror and fascination. "Why would he be lurking around here?" he mulled, the tone of his voice conveying his mental distance.
Although he felt numb and disoriented, he still felt Aranea's hand grab his upper arm insistently, yanking him back from his trance. She placed her other hand on his other arm so that now she was holding him firm. "Specs, look at me." When he didn't immediately look at her, she brought a crooked finger under his chin and pulled his clouded eye back to her. Though it took a moment, his stare focused in her direction and she placed her hand back on his arm, but his eye continued to flicker wildly back and forth as if he was waiting for Ardyn to waltz through the bar doors.
Aranea looked over Ignis' shoulder and saw that Gladio was, thankfully, too caught up flirting with the bartender to realize what was going on. She spoke to Ignis calmly and quietly. "Please, listen to me—Ardyn is not here. If he was, he'd have been here by now, ok? What you're hearing is the idiotic diatribe between two guys who are bored and trying to pass the time with stupid theories. Alright?"
"You don't understand," he whispered, the muscles along his jawline tensed as he clenched his teeth. "After Noct was overcome by the Crystal, Gladio and Prompto tried to take the Chancellor down and it didn't work. Do you get it? He. Can't. Die. So, you see, we know he's out there—waiting—and it's only a matter of time before he resurfaces somewhere. But what I can't understand is why he would be here at all . . ."
"You've gotta calm down. You're being paranoid, Specs. Nothing's going to happen, ok? I promise I won't let it. Just . . . " she sighed and blew a piece of hair from her face, letting go of one of his arms and letting her other hand fall to his gloved hand. He looked stressed, but Aranea couldn't think of anything else to ease his mind. "Come on. Let's get going. The truck is probably ready to go and Cor is being a dick about making sure we leave on time lately."
Ignis was diffident at first but then he allowed Aranea to take his hand and gently lead him from the bar, unaware that she constantly looked behind her to make sure he was ok. She was bothered that he was crippled by fear at the mere mention of the Chancellor and she knew she needed to get him away from the bar—and that discussion—as fast as possible.
The all-too-familiar mugginess encompassed the pair and immediately brought perspiration to their brows as they walked outside. As they ambled down the street to the vehicle lot, Ignis' hand twitched within Aranea's hold and he started to pull away, but she held on a little tighter. "You are mindful that I haven't used a cane in quite some time, especially within the city limits, correct? I'm perfectly capable of getting around without your guidance," he alerted her.
"Well, we have to make sure you get to the vehicle compound in one piece and I can't have you lagging behind. So just shut up and let me lead you."
Gladio's words from earlier echoed in his mind. All the little things she did that everyone else picked up on—everyone else, that is, except Ignis. He hid his smile in case Aranea unexpectedly decided to look back at him. It dawned on him what Gladio meant and right now was a perfect example of how Aranea acted around Ignis.
Ignis and Aranea both knew that Aranea was using this as an excuse to hold his hand as Ignis had recently gone to the vehicle lot on his own without any help.
After a particularly long and drawn out trip and an entire day of bringing down the iron giants and various elemental bombs that inundated the Vesperpool area, Ignis and Aranea picked up and bottled some blizzard, fire, and lightning spells and eventually moved to find the nearest campsite where they would be staying. Due to the magic of the Oracle, the campsites scattered around Lucis were a safe haven for any and all daemon hunters that stumbled across them. No daemon or monster could penetrate the magical forcefield that surrounded each one.
The two were beyond exhausted, but that didn't stop them from arguing over the smallest things. "For the last time, I was not showing you up." Ignis tried to reason with Aranea for the hundredth time as they hurriedly unpacked the truck.
Aranea was annoyed with Ignis after he'd rushed to her aid multiple times during their fights with the daemons, even after she yelled that she could take care of herself. That didn't sit well with Ignis. Despite Aranea consistently outmatching him in combat time and time again, the chivalrous side of him still wanted to make sure she was safe and out of harm's way. To Aranea, it read like she couldn't handle her own battles and it erupted into a long, drawn-out bicker-fest between the two.
Aranea kicked the truck door closed behind her and shoved passed Ignis with authority. "What part of 'back the fuck off' is not in your vocabulary? I told you I had it and you still tried to undermine my command."
"Well, Commodore," he challenged derisively, "Iwas under the impression we were partners in battle, working together to vanquish the daemons in the area. However, if you would like to remain but a military officer and I your submissive subordinate, by all means, be my guest."
"I literally want to punch you in the face right now."
"And I literally wish you would."
They dropped the supplies on the ground and Aranea got to work pulling the tent out of its carrier sleeve, laying it out and proceeding to set it up. Ignis practically had his head bitten off when he offered to help. "What, you don't think a girl like me can pitch a tent either?" she snarled.
"My word, you are quite insufferable today."
When he heard her mimic his voice, complete with a fake accent, in a high and nasally pitch, he held his hands up in mock surrender and backed off, retreating to the other side of the campsite where he now sat patiently, legs extended in front of him, waiting for her to finish setting up the tent.
Upon completion, she threw the hammer down on the stone and dusted her hands off while tossing her hair haughtily over her shoulder. "Ha! And you said I couldn't do it."
Ignis brought one leg up close to his chest and rested his arm across his knee, pushing his tinted glasses up. "It was never my intention to imply that you couldn't do it. I simply wanted to be of some assis—"
"Well, back off, alright? I got this. And had I'd known that you would be all up my ass this mission, I wouldn't have asked Prompto to switch with me so I could be with you."
Ignis lurched forward at her words, pointing an accusatory finger as Aranea's eyes widened upon her unintended confession. "You switched the missions? To be with me?" he asked.
"Err . . . no. You misunderstood me! I meant that Cor asked me to switch with Prompto so you could be more protected . . . or something. Yeah, I didn't want to switch, but he made me. For the love of the Six, you need to get your hearing checked. Can't have you both blind and deaf," she stammered, moseying around the camp and hiding her face as she came up with excuse after excuse.
"For your information, though my sight has been rendered useless, my other senses are greatly enhanced. I don't have any reason to get my hearing checked—but, please, keep insisting that I must just so you can save face," he defended coolly, waiting for her to make up another excuse and smirking when none came. Instead, she shuffled around and mumbled a few choice curse words his way.
Once the tension between the pair eventually died down and everything was set up, Aranea grudgingly asked if Ignis was hungry, to which he replied that he was famished. Unfortunately, they didn't have the ingredients to make anything remarkably fulfilling and Ignis was still holding to his promise that he'd cook Aranea a spectacular, home-cooked meal when he was satisfied with his skills.
So, they settled for some Cup Noodles and he entertained her with stories from his road trip across Lucis with Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto all those years ago. He was surprised she was interested at all in his anecdotes and he found that the more engrossed he became with the retelling of the trip, the more she laughed and pleaded for him to continue. Ignis was practically high on her laughter and he couldn't get enough of it, so he picked the funnier stories from his memory just to elicit one more giggle from her.
When he finished telling Aranea about the time their car ran out of gas and how they barely coasted into a nearby gas station, she wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around. "Hey, do you remember that time when I was told to help you and your buddies find that Mythril for that boat of yours?"
Ignis unscrewed the cap from his water bottle and took a sip, nodding slyly. "Right over there by the Steyliff Grove dungeon," he motioned to the horizon.
Aranea smirked. "So, you haven't forgotten. I was waiting for you to retell that story."
"I didn't want to bring up a tale that you already knew," he smiled in return. "But, I'll confess, that memory is one of my favored ones of the trip."
"And why is that?" she prodded, poking him in the arm incessantly, but Ignis continued to smile and shake his head as he resisted her imploration to answer her question. "Oh, come on, you can't say that and play coy when I ask why."
She quickly grew tired of begging him to answer her and groaned in frustration. "Fine, fine. You win. I'll leave you alone," she conceded defeat, rising to her feet and dusting her hands off on her pants.
"Where are you going?" Ignis questioned as she went to her bag by the tent, kneeling down and rummaged through it.
"Noneya."
"Ah, classic."
Aranea laughed at her juvenile response to his question and shook her bag a couple of times. She muttered that she needed to find time to clean it out as she pulled a book from it, standing and walking back to the fireside. "I like to read before bed. I figure I can get in a few chapters before the fire completely burns out for the night," she told him as she sat back down, this time a little closer to the flames for better lighting. She didn't even realize that Ignis had gone unusually quiet.
"What book are you reading?" he softly asked.
Aranea, still oblivious to his change in behavior, flipped back and forth between the front and back cover of the book. "It's just some biography book I found at a base a few months ago. I don't even know who the person is, but it's interesting so far." She looked up from the book and saw him become noticeably austere, the fire creating deep shadows across his face. She leaned her head to one side and her tone changed to one of concern. "Hey, what's wrong? Why do you look so mopey?"
He didn't say anything at first, running his hand along the ground and picking up a small pebble next to him, flicking it into the flames. Then, he smiled sadly. "As a child, up into my teenage years, I could get lost for hours in the library at the Citadel after hours. Text after text after text . . . I loved it. Sometimes, I'd lose all track of time while reading and I'd have to rush to close up because I needed to get his Majesty to school on time."
Aranea placed the book in her lap, her finger still holding a spot in between the pages. "What genre was your favorite?"
"Oh, I didn't particularly favor one over the other. Some days I enjoyed fiction; some days I preferred reading my cookbooks. It varied, honestly. Sometimes, if nostalgia washed over me, I'd re-read the old children's books that I'd read to Noct as a child," he laughed, as did Aranea.
She looked down at the book in her lap. Aranea wasn't a bookworm by any means, but she did love the feeling of getting lost in a good story. It was hard to imagine how it felt to have that ability to read anything and everything ripped away in an instant. Regarding Ignis with a look of sympathy, she flipped her book open again and scanned the pages quickly before moving closer to him. "So, I'm not sure if you'll even like this book, but I could read it to you if you'd like. If you hate it, you can turn around and walk right into that tent and it won't hurt my feelings. Promise."
"I couldn't ask that of you, Aranea."
"Well, it's a good thing you're not asking, then."
Ignis tilted his head and his sad smile started to turn upwards into something a little happier. "You would be so kind to do that?"
She shrugged, scooting closer to him than necessary so that her leg brushed against his. Both noticed, but neither seemed to mind. The spine of the book cracked as she opened it and she softly began to read aloud the biography of someone neither one had ever heard of.
The fire had all but burned out, reduced to nothing but embers and glowing coal.
Aranea had gotten a chapter or two into the biography before looking over to see Ignis nodding off, his chin starting to rest on his chest and a yawn escaping his mouth every few minutes. She nudged him and prompted him to follow her to the tent so they could get some sleep before heading out the next day. At first, he tried to wave her off and tell her to keep reading, but after a while even he couldn't deny that he was blatantly dozing off sitting up.
Reluctantly, Ignis stood up and trailed behind Aranea as they got ready for bed. They dressed in clothing more appropriate for sleeping, but also decent enough so if they needed to leave at a moment's notice, they could without having to change again. They both set up their blankets and pillows on opposite sides of the tent. Ignis tried to convince Aranea that he'd be ok with sleeping outside of the tent, both for her protection and to allow her some privacy—though the main reason (that he kept to himself) was that he was afraid that he'd wake her up with another one of his nightmares. Aranea admonished his claims and dragged him and his blankets back into the tent, zipping up the door flap behind her.
"There. Now go to sleep," she commanded as he unwillingly burrowed himself under his blankets, his back to her. Once she was satisfied that he was settled in his provisional bed, she relaxed and snuggled into her own blankets.
After the long couple of days they'd had, sleep came easily to both of them. More often than not, Aranea was a relatively heavy sleeper, but that wasn't the case tonight.
Tonight, Aranea was roused from sleep by Ignis' whimpering and sharp movements. She blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the darkness, and sat up on her elbows, looking over at the man beside her who was writhing distressingly. Aware that he was mumbling something in his sleep, she inched forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Specs . . . Hey. Wake up. Come on, you're having a bad dream."
He tossed and turned, whispering the words 'help' and 'stop' multiple times. His face reflected fear and his hands clenched his blanket tightly to his chest. It scared her to see him this distraught, obviously terrified of whatever it was he was up against in his dream.
Aranea shook him harder, calling his name a few more times. It took another good shake and a louder calling of his name before he finally calmed down, slipping back into a semi-peaceful slumber. She continued to watch him as his breathing evened and his face relaxed. How could someone like Ignis, always the picture-perfect persona of poise and stoicism, be so tormented in his dreams? She found herself silently cursing Ardyn and whatever he had done to haunt Ignis all these years later. She always hated that bastard.
She brushed Ignis' hair away from his face, somewhat matted by the sheen of sweat from his forehead, and pulled her pillow and blankets to his side, feeling the need to calm him. As she resettled into her makeshift bed, she reached out and started to rub his arm, comforting him though he was none the wiser at this point. Being this close, she studied him while he slept, bringing her hand from his arm to his face and tracing her fingers over his scars. It hurt her to know he went through so much and, yet, he continued to put on a brave face day after day, acting like everything was ok when it clearly was not. He shifted a little under her touch but never woke up.
Her fingers trailed from the scar on his right eyebrow, down to the one across the bridge of his nose, and then to the one that marred the entirety of his left eye. When she moved her fingers from his eye to the scar on his lip, her breathing hitched and she pulled away with a start. What on Eos was she doing? This was uncalled for—and yet, it felt so right.
Aranea had long ago accepted the fact that she was attracted to Ignis; she'd be stupid to deny it to herself anymore. She desperately wanted to let herself fall for him, but the thought of opening up to anyone terrified her. She couldn't, especially after what happened before with her last relationship. It hurt too much.
It pained her to keep these emotions bottled up, but she had to. It was pointless to mention anything while darkness loomed over Eos and it was especially pointless to mention anything when she had no desire to start a relationship. Maybe in another lifetime, but not this one. She shut that door to her heart a long time ago.
Try as she might, she couldn't deny what she felt for Ignis and it grew stronger with every passing day. Over the years, he'd become her closest confidant and best friend. Despite every one of her moody outbursts, their frantic schedules, and the utter grittiness of life, he stood by her side with unwavering friendship and loyalty. Every time he made some stupid pun, or the way he took his sunglasses off to rub his eyes from whatever stress he was under, or when he turned to her to smile, it made her feelings for him that much stronger. He had no idea—or at least she didn't think he did—just how much he meant to her. All these years and yet they continued to keep up the façade of friendship. Oh well. C'est la vie.
Aranea noticed he was starting to grow restless in his sleep again, rolling onto his back from his side, and she drew herself close, placing her arm around him and laying her head on his chest, waiting for him to calm down once more. Under her ear, she could hear his heart slow and it made her feel a little better knowing that he was tranquil again. She started to move away to give him space again, but she felt his arm unexpectedly pull her in, hugging her close. Confused, she looked up to see if he was awake, but his eye was still closed and his head was somewhat lolled to the side. No, he was still fast asleep. She wondered if he even realized what he was doing. Impossible, she thought. He'd never allow himself to be caught dead in such a compromising situation.
In his arms, feeling more safe and secure than she ever had since the darkness took over the world, Aranea let herself ease into Ignis and his hold around her. She finally felt her eyelids grow heavy as she fell back asleep, a serene smile adorning her lips.
It wasn't the alarm he set—just in case—that disturbed him. It also wasn't another bad dream featuring Ardyn or daemon Aranea that woke him.
No, Ignis woke up to the sound of Aranea packing their things, slamming objects a little too loud for his liking. He wondered how late he'd slept in if she was up and active long before him. The fact that anyone was up before him threw him for a loop. Casting his blankets aside, he blearily stumbled to his feet, sans tinted glasses, and opened the tent door flap. He heard Aranea stop what she was doing and he knew she was looking at him. "Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" she asked dryly, but it was obvious the answer was yes.
"I . . . um . . . how late did I sleep in?" he stuttered, embarrassed.
She shook her head and knelt beside one of their camping chairs—chairs that neither had bothered to use the night before—unclipping one of the chair legs so it could collapse onto itself. "You didn't. I got a phone call this morning from Cor and I've been up ever since."
"Oh," he said, amazed that he slept through her ringing phone, but reasoned that it was due to how exhausted he'd been lately. He ran a hand through his hair and stepped out of the tent to stretch his arms high above him. "What can I help—"
"I'm leaving," she interrupted, sounding a lot angrier and sadder than just seconds before.
"I know. We're leav—"
"Not us, Ignis," Aranea snapped, cutting him off again. He didn't say anything else, listening as she struggled with collapsing the chair. The clip wasn't cooperating and she stood up and irately kicked the chair away from her. She crumbled to the ground and placed her head in her hands, sighing deeply.
"What . . . what do you mean, 'you're leaving'?"
It took a minute for her to find her voice to respond. "It means I'm leaving, Ignis. I'm getting sent away for several months. Maybe longer, maybe not. I don't know."
Ignis walked around the smoldering campfire and towered over Aranea before cautiously taking a seat next to her. He wondered if she'd been crying, judging by the way her voice sounded like her nose was stuffed up, but he knew she wasn't the type to cry; or maybe she was and he just didn't know it. Honestly, Aranea was constantly saying and doing things that surprised Ignis all the time, so he didn't put it past her to cry in secret. He pressed his lips together and turned toward her. "Where are you going?"
Her breath was shaky. So, she had been crying. "Apparently, we received a transmission from Altissia right after you and I left. There are some survivors spread out across the continent of Accordo. I'm taking Biggs and Wedge with me and a few other new hunters and we're leaving in a few days." She placed her head back into her hands and talked through her fingers, her voice muffled. "I know I'm the go-to person for these types of assignments. I get that. I mean, who else has the militaristic background that I do? But . . . I'm so tired of this. Of leaving. Always on the go and never able to stick around. I just . . . I want to stay. I don't want to leave anymore."
She sounded so small and fragile. In that moment, Ignis didn't care what she thought or what his conscious was telling him. He reached for her hand and took it in his. Although he couldn't tell, her eyes were now on him as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. They both stayed that way, her hand in his. Neither one needed to say anything—both were despondent that, once again, they were torn apart by circumstances beyond their control without an end in sight.
Aranea broke the silence. "I . . . I wish I could write you. From what Cor was saying, cell service isn't what it used to be, especially in Accordo. Even if it was, I doubt my phone will stay charged for more than a day or so. I just . . . I wish you could see so that I could write you letters. Like the old days, you know?"
"Why can't you?" he asked, squeezing her hand just a little tighter. "I may not be able to read them, but at least I'll know that you're safe every time I get an envelope from you."
"Ok, but what if I skip all the 'I'm safe' bullshit and just write stupid nonsense about how much I hate you and your stupid combed back hair and that ugly leopard dress shirt you wear?"
"You mean the leopard dress shirt that was hand-tailored and cost quite a bit of gil? My favorite shirt? You'd better retract that statement, right now," he feigned offense by bringing his other hand to his chest, appearing hurt.
Aranea giggled. "Yeah, fine. Whatever. Plus, I guess you look ok in it," she admitted.
Ignis gave her a reassuring smile. "In all seriousness, I would very much appreciate any correspondence from you, just to know that you're alive and well. Draw me a picture, send me a poem, write to your heart's content, I honestly don't care. But, just know that I'll cherish every single one and I'll keep them until you return, no matter what they say. I'll wait for you to come home and then you can read the letters to me upon your return."
Aranea held back a sniffle, not daring to let one ounce of this moment make her cry, again. She looked up at the sky, hoping gravity or the Astrals or something would push the tears right back into her eyeballs. She hated emotions, but this was all too much, even for her. "Yeah. Sure, Specs. That sounds . . . that sounds good. I'll do that."
Ignis stood up, pulling Aranea up as well. When both were standing, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, hoping it would bring some comfort to her right now. At first, she stood, dumbfounded, unsure of how to react to his embrace, but slowly she found herself returning the gesture.
He lightly rested his chin on the top of her head, smelling the same faint scent of jasmine and orchid that caused him to go weak the night they cooked together at his hotel room. Ignis dreaded knowing how alone he'd feel upon her departure. Sure, he had felt loneliness before, but it was nothing compared to this. His heart felt heavy and cold, but he kept his composure for Aranea's sake. "I'll miss you," he whispered so softly that Aranea almost failed to hear it.
Unsure if she heard him right, Aranea pulled her head away and looked up at him, yet he never looked back at her. She took a deep breath and buried her face back into his chest and his arms tightened around her just a bit more. "Yeah, I know," she replied.
They remained in each other's arms, neither one wanting to let go of each other or this moment, knowing as soon as they did, it meant another step toward letting go for the foreseeable future.
Author's Note: A time skip, some fluff and some angst and they still don't want to admit their feelings to each other :) Oh well! Maybe one day ;)
I will be upping the rating next chapter. The scene I have in mind may not exactly warrant a hard M rating, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Down the road though, the rating will for sure be necessary. I apologize to those who may not agree with this, but I hope you'll forgive me!
Finally, again, I have the best readers. I know I respond to each and every one of you (and to those who write as guest and have their PMs disabled, I try and send strong telepathic vibes your way! lol) but I truly love and cherish each and every one of your reviews. I love you guys so much! Thank you!