"Gladio…" Ignis almost collapses with relief as Gladio's huge, warm, calloused hand envelopes his own and gives it a single, hearty shake. "Thank you for coming."

"Aranea said you needed backup. Why didn't you tell us?"

Oh sweet Six, what has she told them? There are going to be words later. For now, however, he's too happy to see Gladio again to be angry.

"There was nothing to say. Everything's under control."

"The refugees are under control," Gladio corrects. "You, however, are a hot mess. C'mere."

Ignis doesn't have time to protest. Gladio's already pulled him into his arms. Ignis swallows hard as Gladio hugs him tight. Everything he's been fighting back for the last few weeks threatens to boil to the surface.

"I'm sorry," Gladio mumbles, and Ignis is so surprised he forgets to panic. "Dunno what the hell we were thinking, sending you off by yourself. Prom and I damn well knew better and we still let it happen. You're not supposed to leave a man behind."

If anyone's been left behind, it's Noctis. "You didn't. You sent a man ahead."

"Same thing."

Despite himself, Ignis smiles. Gladio steps back and pats him roughly on the shoulder. "That's better. Now, show me what needs doing. Everyone's gonna get here eventually. May as well start doing my share now."

He wedges Ignis' fingers under his elbow and sets off. Ignis has to dance in order to keep from getting jerked off his feet, and Gladio checks his pace.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." Gladio hasn't often led him around. Usually, it's Prompto or Ravus. Gladio is their tank, and he needs to have both his hands free. "How are the others?"

"Lost without you," Gladio says with all sincerity. "They're gonna call us later. Got some details to discuss."

"Details?" Ignis gets the feeling this has nothing to do with the logistics of housing and feeding hundreds of refugees.

"Yeah. Luna wants your input for the last wave. On top of being Oracle, she's technically Queen of Tenebrae now, and she's wondering if she should just come in as one of the civilians, or if she ought to go full triumphal entry."

"The latter," Ignis says. He doesn't even have to think about it. "She's Oracle, and the only monarch currently present. People are still plagued with starscourge and those of us who grew up under a monarchy will feel much more at ease with an anointed ruler to look to."

Gladio laughs. "Guess that's that, then."

Hardly, but they'll discuss it later. It will be good to hear everyone's voices again.


Ignis' office is one of the extra rooms in the administrative building for the power plant. It's got proportions similar to a broom closet, but it's enough for Talcott, Bob, and himself to do what needs to be done without knocking elbows too much. Wedging both himself and Gladio into the room proves a tight fit. They don't have long to wait until Ignis' phone rings.

"Scientia, you're on speaker," Ignis announces by way of a greeting.

There is a chorus of hello's and well-wishes. It's painfully good to hear their voices, difficult as it is to separate them.

"Hey Iggy," Prompto calls. "You got a tan yet?"

"Hope Gladi's behaving himself," Iris adds.

"How are things coming along?" Lunafreya asks.

"Well enough," Ignis replies. "We've found beds and food for everyone. Still working on individual roofs, though I imagine it will be some time until that's completely sorted out. How are things up there?"

"It's so cold!" There's an audible shiver in Iris' voice.

"Trying to get the last stragglers together," Prompto puts in. "Had an interesting time convincing a few people that staying put wouldn't be the best idea."

"When will you arrive?"

"We're hoping within the next week or so. I realize that's not much time to prepare, but our window is rapidly closing."

"I understand. What do you need?"

"Yeah," Gladio adds, "you just sneaking in, or going all out? Ignis thinks you oughtta make a splash."

"Do you indeed?"

"I do," Ignis says with a nod, though she can't see it. "You're the Oracle, as well as the only monarch we have at the moment. You've triumphed over Niflheim if only by default. The MTs are yours to command, as are the people of your country. It would be best to make a statement along those lines."

"Any suggestions?"

"Well, obviously what regalia you can scavenge. A white dress at the very least. Perhaps a procession into Lestallum?"

Gladio's nod is just visible. "That could work."

Pompto has a suggestion. "Oh hey, the Regalia! She should ride in on the back like a beauty queen. Ow! What? You got a better idea?"

Someone's obviously smacked him upside the head, though Ignis cannot imagine who since Gladio is standing next to him.

"Cars have seatbelts for a reason, genius."

"Commodore," Ignis says, pleased. "I was unaware you were there as well."

"Yeah, well, I'm just here to throw the vote in case of a tie."

Laughter follows and Ignis helps.

"The Regalia isn't a bad idea, though I agree with the Commodore. Seatbelts are preferable to sitting on the boot. It would also make her majesty less of a target."

Not that anyone is likely to attack her with Niflheim out of the picture, but still.

"If uniforms can be found for the rest of you, that would also help."

"We'll figure something out."

That's Ravus. Ignis' breath hitches. It's a reflex, he can't help it. He coughs into one fist, trying to play it off as nothing.

"You okay there, Iggy?"

"Desert dust, nothing more." He can feel Gladio's incredulous look, but ignores it. "If the MTs know any formal escort formations, I'd recommend using those."

"Could...could we maybe come in at sundown or before dawn? So everyone can see them without the full face masks?"

There's a pause as everyone considers whether an army of identical blonde-haired men would be more or less alarming than robots in metal masks. In the end, Ignis decides Prompto's suggestion has merit.

"We begin to lose the light around 6pm here," Ignis says, thinking out loud. "The gates are barred at 10pm. Only foot traffic is allowed through after that. Would that be doable?"

There's some muttering and background noise. "Yeah, that should be fine. Sooo start the parade at 7PM or so? They'll still need to wear helmets, but should be okay without the faceplates."

"Will you and Mayor Teulle be there to welcome us formally?" Luna asks.

"Yes of course, your majesty. Gladio and I will certainly be here waiting for you, but I would hate to upstage the mayor. It might be better for us to act as an honor guard, nothing more."

"Ignis," Ravus' voice cuts through the silence. "Until Noctis returns, you're acting regent of Lucis."

Ignis cannot think, cannot breathe. Had he not already been sitting, he would have dropped straight to the floor, the shock is so great.

"What?" he croaks. "That cannot be. I am a valet; a Lord in title only. Surely there are others…"

His protests trail off as Aranea voices his thoughts:

"Specs, the Empire took out anyone with even a remote claim to the throne a long time ago. Lucis doesn't even have any members of parliament left to fall back on. You're it." There's a pause and Ignis braces himself for what she might say next, but it isn't Aranea who speaks. It's Ravus:

"I can't think of a better man for the job."

Ignis swallows hard, forcing back a sudden lump in his throat. How could he have forgotten? Noctis isn't ill, or under-age, but he is absent. Surely there is someone else left, someone more qualified than himself; a count or duke living somewhere in exile. Yet he knows in his heart, there isn't

This is all wrong, so wrong. How can he step into Noctis' place, even in a strictly administrative sense? It's not that he is incapable of doing the work- some adjustments will need to be made due to his handicap, of course- he is entirely capable. But this is not a role he should have ever had to fill. He is a servant, not a leader. But Noctis isn't here, and he is. It is his duty to keep things running smoothly until Noctis returns. Taking a shuddering breath, Ignis does his best to pull himself together.

"Thank you. I appreciate the vote of confidence. In that case, the mayor and I will indeed formally welcome you to the city. Gladio and I will arrange things on this end. Any other thoughts and feelings?"

"What are we to do about Noctis?" Lunafreya asks. Ignis winces at the vulnerability in her voice. What indeed?

"I ran into a couple of displaced Glaives and Crownsguard at one of the Hunter outposts," Aranea speaks up. "Bet they'd come and stand guard if we asked them."

"We couldn't leave them here!" Iris sounds horrified.

"Look, little sister, we can't stay here, but that doesn't mean we have to leave the prince on his own. If anyone can survive up here, it's the Lucian royal guard. They'll be fine."

Having the Kingsglaive and Crownsguard back on the job does much to reassure Ignis. Like Iris, he worries about leaving them to a land frozen solid and inhabited only by daemons. But they cannot leave Noctis alone. This seems the best option at present.

"That's one problem solved then. What else?"

"The hell we gonna stick everybody?" Gladio says more to Ignis than the group as a whole. "The Leville's booked solid and we barely have room for the refugees as it is."

Ignis compresses his lips into a thin line and sighs through his nose. "We have time. We'll think of something."

"Keep us posted," Luna tells him. "Be well. See you soon."

"And you as well, Majesty."

"Bye Iggy!"

"Bye!"

"Later, Specs."

There is no word from Ravus.


Lestallum is full to bursting, and there really isn't room to spare. However, Ignis has been given a room at the Leville for the duration. Lately, he's been sharing it with Bob. His assistant, however, is presently engaged in welcoming and orienting his many brethren. With every drop ship of Tenebraen civilians had come a small contingent of awakened MTs. It's been a slow process, but people are gradually warming up to them. It helps to know they're human underneath.

Ignis makes room for Gladio in the hotel suite. It's spacious enough for two. There had been a time when all six of them would pile into a room no larger than this. At the time it had seemed cramped, but Ignis misses being surrounded. It's easier to sleep with the presence of others to ward off the nightmares.

There are two double beds, but Gladio resolutely climbs in next to him. The deliberate, intentional shift of weight and muscle dare Ignis to protest. He doesn't bother. It doesn't do any good to argue with Gladio once he's got his mind made up. If Ignis is honest, the weepy, needy part of him that's gotten so loud of late is glad.

Before the Nox Fleurets joined their merry band, Ignis and Gladio usually wound up in the same motel bed. Gladio's big; warm, and solid. So is Ravus, but he's slightly taller, leaner, and doesn't radiate heat the same way Gladio does. Everything about Gladio is bulky, where Ravus is a bit more streamlined. They both snore, but Ravus somehow manages a sort of regal restraint. Gladio- depending on the season- can sometimes be loud enough to rattle the light fixtures. Ignis doesn't care. It will be a tremendous comfort to know without seeing that he is not alone in the dark.

"Would it be weird if I said I'd kinda missed this?" Gladio says into the darkened room. "Once Ravus and Luna came, and we had to shuffle up, I almost felt kinda jealous. Like, no dammit, that's my friend, I saw him first! I know it's stupid and childish and I don't feel that way anymore, but...at the time it felt like I'd been demoted."

"I'd no idea," Ignis admits. "I wish you'd said something."

"Nah, you had your own shit to deal with. Didn't need me making things harder with my stupidity. S'all it was, anyway. I got over myself. It's just...nice to know you're right here where I can keep an eye on you."

Ignis chuckles. Normally it's him keeping everyone else in line and on task. Still, it's Gladio's job to keep everyone safe, and he can appreciate the sentiment.

Wait.

"You don't have a crush on me, do you?" Astrals above, he hopes not.

"Six, no!" Gladio says, sounding horrified. "That'd just be weird. I mean, I like you fine, but no. You are so not my type. Just...no."

Ignis lets his breath out in a sigh. At least he doesn't have to worry about that.

"Missed you, though."

"I've missed you as well." Ignis swallows hard, not trusting himself to say more.

"Iggy?"

"Good night, Gladio."

"Iggy, seriously. You okay?"

"Fine." It's hard to force the word out, his throat is so tight.

"Like hell. Unless this is 'cause of...what happened." Ignis blinks as Gladio's thick thumb smears wetness across his cheek. Ignis puts his own fingers to his ruined eyes and finds them spilling over, tears trailing back towards his ears.

"Oh," he says, bewildered. "I think it must be. I can't even feel it."

"So your eyes are watering because of the damage, or you're crying and you don't realize it?"

Ignis tries to take a steady breath to reply and fails. He hates that this keeps sneaking up on him, that he can't beat it back to deal with at a more convenient time- or more preferably, not at all.

"Right. The second one. C'mere."

Ignis turns and huddles into Gladio's warm bulk. The arms that pull him close are thick and heavy, but it's a protective gesture, in no way threatening. Instead of calming his nerves, however, it only makes it worse. Gladio makes soothing noises and smooths his back with one hand. Ignis feels like he might be sick, the lump in his throat big and hard enough to gag. Gladio doesn't say anything, doesn't judge, just holds on until Ignis has cried himself out.

"I'm sorry," Ignis gasps, mortified. "I don't know what's the matter with me. I don't know when I got so...so weak."

"Iggy," Gladio's tone is an awkward mix of hurt and concerned. "You are one of the strongest people I know. You know damn well this doesn't make you less of a person."

He knows. His head knows it. It's difficult,however, to get the rest of him to agree.

"You took a major hit," Gladio goes on. "I know you'd do it again in a heartbeat, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. It's okay if you're freaked-out. You're allowed to feel overwhelmed, scared, maybe a little angry too. That's okay. I'd be more worried if you didn't."

"I feel as if I've no right to complain," Ignis tries to explain. "This was my choice. I was prepared to sacrifice whatever was needed. I still am. But…"

"Yeah."

Ignis is beyond grateful that he doesn't have to try to explain. Despite his incoherence, Gladio gets it. Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto all speak the language of pain fluently. They've taken care of Noctis for the better part of their own lives. With their prince gone, they must turn that care toward each other.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Ignis says into Gladio's chest. "It's like I've broken. Nothing works the way it should, they way it used to. I've gotten so clingy, so afraid. I'm not myself anymore."

"Iggy, you lost your godsdamned eyes. I know you gave them willingly, but that's still a huge adjustment to make. You lost a major piece of sensory input. Things are going to be weird and scary and confusing. You can't operate the way you did because a key piece of hardware is gone. If I couldn't see everyone anymore, I'd want to know they were there any way I could. It's not wrong to want to be touched."

"You're not broken," Gladio assures him, snugging his arms around Ignis just a little bit tighter. "You're still you. We just gotta figure out another way to get things done. That's all."

When put like that, Ignis almost believes he can do this. It's the first encouraging thought he's had for a while. He smiles a little to himself as he drifts off. With Gladio there, his sleep is deep and blessedly empty.


Ignis half expects to be alone as wakefulness steals upon him. It takes a moment to register that Gladio's curled protectively around him, Ignis' back tucked to his chest. It's morning. There's light enough to slant through the curtains and the remaining crack in his vision. His phone begins to buzz and blair, rattling across the nightstand. Ignis stretches to turn it off. Behind him, Gladio stirs and shifts.

"Five more minutes?" he yawns.

Ignis snuggles back into him. He's got a mild headache from his theatrics the night before, and Gladio is warm, and the bed is comfortable.

"Five more minutes," Ignis agrees.