Water Under the Bridge
Goodbye and Hello
The nightmares came back with a vengeance that week. Every night, or whenever Ignis felt himself drifting off to sleep, he was jolted awake, terrorized by visions of Ardyn, Noctis' long absence and impending arrival, a never-ending ambush of daemons, his injuries, blood spilled everywhere . . . it was an endless barrage of delirium and panic. Ignis tried his best to remain calm when he stirred—sometimes shaken from his nightmares by Aranea, other times snapping to on his own. After every night terror, it was quite a feat to fall back asleep—if he was able to at all.
Word spread quickly that the Chosen King was returning and everyone was buzzing with excitement. "He's home!" they all said. "He'll bring light back to Eos! We're saved! Praise to the Gods!"
The cheerful chatter and blind worshipping of the Gods, as if they were the reason for everyone's salvation, angered Ignis, as well as Gladio and Prompto. These people only saw Noctis as a martyr. A sacrificial lamb. Their ticket to deliverance. But he was more than that. He was their friend and their brother-in-arms. It broke their hearts more than anything, knowing the truth of what was to come.
"It's appalling how happy this town is," Ignis spat one afternoon while he and Aranea walked to meet with Cor, Gladio, Prompto, and Iris. It was time to strategize and plan their next moves when Noctis came home.
"Can you blame them? It's been ten years of misery. Cut them some slack."
"That's Noctis' death they're hailing. He'll be back any day now and all they care about is the goddamn sun coming back."
Aranea stopped and pulled Ignis back by the hand. "Alright, Specs; you need to breathe. You have every right to grieve in your own way, but these civilians have no clue about the truth of the prophecy. You're taking your anger out on everyone else and, honestly, it's a little out of character for you."
The touch of her hand, moving up and down his arm, calmed his anxiety slightly. She went a step further by taking his hand and placing it on her stomach, right where the baby was kicking again, so vibrant and full of life. Ignis grinned. "She's active today," he observed.
"A little. Only just started when she heard your voice bitching and complaining. I think she wanted to let you know that everything's going to be ok. And, honestly, it will be. We've all been through worse. We'll get through this, alright?"
That knocked the wind out of Ignis' lungs, but Aranea failed to notice as she slipped by him, lacing her fingers with his as they went back to walking. The rest of the walk was quiet and finally Aranea opened the door of an older building down a narrow alleyway where Cor had set up an office of sorts, used quite often over the last decade. Everyone else had already arrived and the couple entered, taking a seat at the table in the middle of the poorly lit room. Spread out over the surface of the table were various maps, photographs, and written notes about the condition of Insomnia as of late.
The atmosphere was strained and overwrought with discomfort. Prompto was fidgety, ready to jump out of his skin while Iris looked like she'd cried a thousand tears. Dark circles created shadows under her red, swollen eyes and she barely looked at Gladio, even though they were mere inches apart.
Aranea tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong with you, Iris? I swear, you're crying all the time lately. In fact, you've cried nonstop since you found out His Highness—"
"Majesty," Ignis corrected. "It's Majesty. Highness is reserved for princes and princesses of the Royal Family. Majesty is the correct title for kings and queens of the Family."
She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Same thing. Anyway, you've cried nonstop since you found out His Majesty—" she said it in a condescending tone "—was on his way back. Thought you'd be happier, what with that childhood crush you told me all about you had on him."
Ignis shot a look over where Gladio was sitting and, before Iris could open her mouth to explain the real reason she was inconsolable, Gladio kicked her gently under the table to shush her. The entire thing didn't go unnoticed by Aranea who looked from Iris to Ignis, to Gladio, back to Iris again. Aranea was unable to get in a word otherwise when Cor's chair scraped against the flooring as he stood up, moving to pace the length of the table. "Iris and I set out on reconnaissance to see what we could scope out within the city walls. As you can see," he motioned to a picture that Gladio was holding between his thumb and forefinger, "the entire city is in ruins. Despite this, we were able to scope out a decent path leading from the outer walls to the gates of the Citadel. I understand this isn't too much to go on, but it's a start."
"How bad is it, Marshal? Daemon-wise?" Ignis asked as Cor passed behind his chair.
"It's rough. Think along the lines of Giant Flans. Ariadnes. There were a few Red Giants in the distance, but nowhere near the footpath you'll be taking. Regardless, these aren't the daemons we've played with in recent years. You have your work cut out for you, that much is certain."
"What about you?" Prompto muttered while taking the photo from Gladio and studying it under the dim lighting of the room. "Are you joining us?"
"Unfortunately, you four will have to go at this alone. This is your story and no one else's. I will gather up our strongest fighters and follow behind, but for a majority of your time within the Wall, it will be only you four." Cor stopped and turned his voice to the back of Aranea's head as she drummed her fingers on the table. "Commodore, I trust you understand why you must remain behind?"
She rolled her eyes and, somehow, Ignis could tell that she was restless. "Yeah, whatever. A pregnant woman on the battlefield isn't exactly a dream scenario, let alone one that should probably go lay down and rest at the mere mention of the words 'fight', 'stress', and 'anxiety'."
"It's not all bad, Aranea. I'm staying behind too, you know. I can't . . . it's just . . . " Iris' bottom lip quivered again and she gripped Gladio's forearm tightly, earning another glare from Aranea and a frown from Ignis and Prompto.
The Marshal continued, all but ignoring Iris' sobbing. "I've already informed Ms. Aurum of your arrival in Hammerhead. She has the caravan all set for your stay. Talcott will accompany you as well to the station. I've asked that he drive around, on the lookout for any signs of Noctis' return. The only thing we have to go on is the note that Umbra brought. We have no clue of when or where Noctis will reappear, so I ask that we plan ahead and move you three out to Hammerhead as soon as possible, just on the off chance he comes back sooner rather than later."
"Yes, sir," the three men responded in unison.
He stopped at the head of the table, hands behind his back. "Are there any questions? Comments?" Everyone stayed quiet, waiting for someone else to voice their hesitations or concerns. "Alright. Then it's settled. You have until tomorrow evening to wrap up any loose ends here and make your way to Hammerhead."
Prompto shrugged indifferently. "I'll just leave tonight. Makes no sense for me to stick around here for nothing."
"Pfsh. Who are you kidding, Prom?" Gladio derided. "We all know you just want to get to Hammerhead for one more chance with Cindy."
Even though everyone half-heartedly chuckled at the comment, Aranea furrowed her eyebrows. "One more shot? What, you really think Prompto's going to kick the bucket with you guys by his side? I fought with him in Gralea. I've seen him fight firsthand. If anything, he's not going to be the first to need a Phoenix Down."
Eyes shifted from person to person, wondering if and when Aranea would catch on, seeing as Ignis had failed to tell her anything of what was to come. Then, Cor cleared his throat. "That will be fine, Prompto. I'll make sure one of the vehicles is prepared for your departure. Gladio and Ignis? I assume you guys will be heading out tomorrow, then?" With two curt nods, Cor stood up straighter. "Great. Since there is nothing else left to discuss, I'll see no further reason to keep everyone here any longer."
Everyone stood up, an air of foreboding settling over everyone. The tension was thick and the group moved with little motivation in their steps. The Marshal broke the silence, again. "Gentlemen, it has been an honor watching you three grow into fine young men."
Aranea grunted, rolling her eyes. "Sheesh, Marshal. You're acting like this is goodbye or something. They know what they're doing. I mean, hell, even Specs, with his injury, fights ten times better than he did at the start of the Darkness. Give them some credit, why don't you. They'll be back."
The room went still with everyone's eyes completely averted from Aranea's, save for Ignis who continued to face in her direction. When no one spoke up, she balled her fists. "Alright, what's the deal? You're all acting like there's something more to this whole thing. Ignis . . . what's going on? You are coming back, aren't you? You've trained and fought for ten years with these guys and with me. You guys are coming back."
Prompto let out a low whistle. "Here we go . . ."
Even though his face remained composed, Ignis was a wreck inside. "I'm so sorry . . . I wanted to tell you sooner."
"Tell me sooner? What do you mean 'tell me sooner'? What could you possibly have to tell me other than 'Alright, Aranea. I'll be home shortly and I love you'?"
His mouth had gone dry and he struggled to find the words. Cor stood off to the side, a firm frown planted on his face while Gladio started to nudge Prompto and Iris out of the room. "Oh, no. You three stay right there," she yelled, halting the two men and the young woman in their tracks before they could even make it to the door. "You guys are just as bad as he is if you also know what it is that he's hiding. Now, one of you better explain what is going on and why everyone except me seems dead set on believing that this is goodbye and not 'see you later'."
Everyone looked at Ignis as he took a deep breath.
Now or never.
"It appears, in my quest to figure out who Ardyn Izunia is—or whatever surname he chooses to go by—I have also uncovered the only way to rid the world of his evil and eternal night."
"And?"
He shifted in his spot, uncomfortable. "Only the Chosen King can go forward and defeat Ardyn. By doing so, light shall be restored to Eos. The stipulation is that the Chosen King must sacrifice himself to do so."
Aranea shrugged. "Thanks for the history lesson, Specs, but what does that have to do with you?" The longer he kept his eye trained in her direction and the longer the quiet dragged on, the more Aranea understood. She shook her head and scoffed. "That's funny. This is all really fucking funny. So, you mean to tell me that this whole time, your precious prince was the destined Chosen King and you three are his knights in shining armor? He has to die and you . . . that means you three . . . And you . . ." she suddenly choked on her words and bit her lower lip to stave the onset of emotions. "You knew. You knew this and you kept it from me."
"I only just stumbled on this a short time ago, but . . . yes. Yes, I knew."
The sound of her low laugh scared everyone standing in the room. "So, what about all that bullshit you fed me about a life in Insomnia? About nothing ever happening to us? To you? Thought playing house was fun so you wanted to keep me in the dark about, you know, the real shit going on in your life? Goddammit, Ignis, how could you? How could you keep something like that from me?"
"I wanted to tell you. I just . . . do you understand how hard it is for me to come to terms with what is being asked of me? Of us? Of Noctis?"
"Don't justify it to me. Don't you fucking justify it!" She was screaming and Ignis flinched as she jabbed a finger into his chest. "You knew this whole fucking time and you thought, 'Oh! Great idea! I'm going to hide this from her and hope she doesn't find out!'"
"No, it's . . . Aranea, it's not like that!"
"It sure as fuck looks like it! You're a fucking coward, you know that? You were going to go away and leave me here alone with our fucking child because you weren't man enough to tell me that you were headed off to Insomnia with a target strapped to your back by the fucking Gods of Eos."
"I didn't," he winced, heart palpitating. She was furious, and rightfully so. "Please understand that I was only doing it to protect you."
"Protect me? You hid it because you wanted to protect me? Fuck you. Seriously, fuck you. You fucking selfish asshole. If that excuse helped you sleep at night for however long you were sitting on it, then you're a shittier person than I thought. You think you're this selfless, moral guy, but you're not. Don't bother coming home tonight. Stay at the Levelle for all I care. I can't even look at you right now." She turned to the other three still standing awkwardly around the perimeter of the room. "You all can go to hell. I'm Second-in-Command in this hell hole and, what? I'm pregnant, so I have to be treated with kid gloves? I'm . . . I need to get out of here. I can't be here anymore."
Ignis stood in the middle of the room as she stormed passed him, slamming the door behind her. Iris mumbled something about going to check on her and pardoned herself from the room while Prompto coughed nervously and approached Ignis from the side. "Dude, you should have at least warned her."
"Thanks, Prompto," Ignis spat, his tone dripping sarcasm.
"Give her some time," Gladio advised while Cor grunted his consensus. "This is hard for all of us. But, seriously, you should have said something sooner. In the meantime, come back to the Levelle. I'm almost positive your Kingsglaive uniform is still hanging in the back of your closet. You can hang out for a bit and grab it until she's cooled off a bit."
Dejected, Ignis allowed himself to be led from the room by Prompto and Gladio after a firm handshake and some parting words with Cor.
As they lumbered back to the Levelle, Ignis turned to Prompto. "Might I ask a favor of you?"
The blonde blinked. "Uh . . . yeah? What's up?"
"I need your help penning a letter. Also, you may have a photo that I would be interested in taking off your hands."
Prompto nodded earnestly. "Yeah. Whatever you need, I'll be glad to help. You know that."
They walked in unison through the Levelle arches and up the stairs to the old room that Ignis once occupied with them.
After several hours and with his Kingsglaive uniform in hand, Ignis made the trek across the courtyard to the apartment building where he lived. Prompto packed up a few of his belongings, including his own uniform, and told the men he'd meet them in Hammerhead. Gladio also parted ways, saying he wanted to spend some time with Iris and then remained vague about whoever else he was visiting—though it was clear that he was off to visit his not-so-secret lover.
It was so reminiscent of their fight earlier that week where Ignis came crawling back after a few hours, knocking at the bedroom door ever so softly, only this time Aranea didn't say anything out loud or give any indication that he was welcome in. He pressed his luck and opened the door, surprised that it wasn't locked. With a careful and trembling step, he crossed into the bedroom and placed the uniform on a random hook along the wall.
"Cute outfit." Her voice was cold and bitter. If looks could kill, Ignis truly thought he'd have perished upon entering that room.
He removed his glasses from his face and put them, along with the gloves he peeled from his hands, on the desk off to the side. "It's the attire that all the men and women are to wear in the Kingsglaive. Prompto, Gladio, and I received ours before our departure from Insomnia. We were to don them at Noctis' wedding. However . . . " Ignis faded off. He took a few steps and stood where he knew the foot of the bed to be. "I didn't come here to dazzle you with my uniform."
Aranea glared at him in the dull light. "So, why are you here, then?"
"Please, Aranea," he whispered, standing there so awkward and unsure of himself. "I've practiced my apology over and over in my head, but it falls flat. I just don't have the words."
"You could start with why."
"Fair enough," he exhaled, his composure frayed. "The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you. After you told me about your prior lover and the chain of events leading to your falling apart and his death, I knew I couldn't involve you in my life. Noctis, my duty—that is who I am. It always has been and I can't just throw that part of myself away. That part of me always came first. I put everything else second.
"As the years went on, I came to the conclusion that couldn't live my life without you in it. I took that leap when I asked you to fall with me. I didn't make that choice lightly and, at the time, I had no idea about the true meaning of the Prophecy. When I learned of what it entailed—what it possibly meant for me—I had every intention of telling you when I was able to come to terms with it myself, even if it meant reneging on my promises. I'd hoped that, when I could tell you, you'd understand.
"But, that was the same day that you told me you were pregnant and I couldn't. To put that burden on you . . . it was more than I could bear. And the days passed and I . . . I couldn't even speak the words out loud.
"I shouldn't stand here and beg for your forgiveness. I know I shouldn't but, from the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry. It was deceitful what I did and I should trust that you're stronger than I give you credit for."
He wanted to take her in his arms, to shield her from the hurt, but he waited for her to give any sort of hint or signal that she wanted him near her at all. Eventually, he heard her sniffle and huff. "Well, yeah, you should. I'm stronger than you and your friends combined. For Astral's sake, I almost had your sorry asses the first time we met if it weren't for your stupid . . . what do you call that one technique you do?"
Ignis' cheeks flushed pink. "Oh. Er . . . overwhelm?"
"Yeah. That one. It's a bitch move, you know that? Dogpiling some poor, innocent woman as she's trying to catch her breath."
"My love, you were never a poor, innocent woman," he chuckled and took her barb as permission to approach and kneel in front of her, placing his forearms across her lap. Her fingers were on his face, tracing the raised skin of his scars and he leaned into the gesture with a shuddering breath as they went back to being serious. "I've never had a single regret about anything in my life. Never. But, Six, I am beyond bitter about my destiny. Knowing that I'm walking away from you? Darling, you can't possibly understand how much that destroys me."
"Oh, I have an idea. Trust me, I do. In fact, it's taking all I have not to lock you up in this room and throw away the key," she mumbled, voice cracking as she teetered on the edge of a breakdown. "You know, I haven't regretted a single thing about this. Us. You and me. It took a long time for us to get here, but I wouldn't take a second of it back. You know that, right?"
Ignis forced a sad smile. He couldn't even fake happiness anymore. "Neither would I. I only regret that I didn't act on my feelings for you sooner."
"Eh, don't be. It made our getting together that much hotter. All that sexual tension? Admit it, Specs; you know it's true."
He chuckled. "Even in the midst of a tragedy, you'll still find any opportunity to bring up sex."
"What can I say? You bring out the sexual deviant in me." They both laughed again, quietly, before Aranea sighed. "For real, though, Ignis. I love you. If this is . . . if this is what you have to do, then I support you. I would never want to stand in the way of your destiny. Whether you come back or not, I will . . . I . . ." she tried to finish the sentence, but the words remained lodged in her throat and she pursed her lips.
Still on his knees, he moved one of his hands up to her face, caressing her cheek and feeling the wet trails that her tears had left behind. "Kiss me," he whispered.
His request was almost too quiet and, for a moment, he wondered if he'd need to repeat what he asked. Neither one moved until Aranea finally leaned forward, her lips soft and sweet on his. Initially, their kiss was slow and sorrowful with a touch of hesitancy. It tasted like the saltiness of her tears paired with the sullenness in his heart. The tempo gradually picked up and Ignis realized he was being pulled up and onto their bed. He took control, positioning her on her back as he deepened their kiss with his tongue. They grew passionate and needy, their desperation palpable.
Ignis' lips moved to her jaw and then to her ear, whispering everything and nothing at the same time as she writhed under his hold on her. He kissed down her neck to her collarbone, pushing her shirt up so he could place his lips on her bare skin, trailing all the way down to her pregnant stomach.
When he reached her belly, he paused and ran a hand across her stomach as his breathing hitched. Aranea threaded her fingers in his hair, her heart racing as he planted kiss after kiss on her belly before laying his forehead there. After a solid minute or two, he turned his face to Aranea's and she tugged him back up to her.
"Make love to me."
It sounded so raw and heartbreaking coming from her, Ignis thought. It hurt more than either of them could fathom, knowing it may very well be the last time. Nonetheless, he nodded, both shifting so they could burrow under the covers. Ignis pulled the sheets up and over them as if to shelter themselves from the world and what was to come.
He made a quiet promise to love her again and again through the night until sleep wouldn't allow them to continue anymore.
And they did, only stopping when they succumbed to exhaustion and enervation.
Aranea stirred, naked and sweating in a tangled mess of sheets. She was roused by the soft pitter-patter of baby kicks from within. Grumbling under her breath, she rubbed at the feeling. "Yeah, I know. You're awake. I get it. No need to wake mommy up, too," she muttered. Still half-asleep, she reached to the other side of the bed for Ignis. Instead, her hand made contact with an unmade bed and a piece of paper with a glossy picture beside it.
Dread clawed at her insides and Aranea sat up with a start. Now that she realized it, the apartment was entirely too silent. Usually, if Ignis was awake, he'd be making quiet noise in the kitchen, cooking breakfast while humming a soft tune. There would be the clatter of pots and pans as he moved about, no doubt lost in the happiness of concocting a delicious meal. This morning, there was none of that. The silence was deafening.
It dawned on her that the Kingsglaive uniform he'd brought home the night before was missing from the hook that he hung it on. His glasses and gloves were also gone.
She grasped at the paper and noticed it was a note. The picture beside it was the one taken on the night of Ignis' birthday by Prompto. It was the same picture of them dancing in the middle of the bar with eyes only for each other. They looked so in love and high on happiness—or maybe it was just the excess alcohol they'd imbibed in that evening. Either way, Aranea remembered looking up at Ignis' face and feeling nothing but absolute bliss at being in his arms.
Eventually, she tore her eyes away and started to read the letter, written in Prompto's handwriting. Ignis must have commissioned his help for this because there was no way that Ignis' handwriting was this messy. She'd seen his recipe notebook. That handwriting was narrow and elegant; this was sloppy at best.
My Darling Aranea,
It is with a heavy heart that I head to Insomnia and it pains me knowing that you will be alone. This is, by far, the hardest thing I've ever had to do—walking away from you and our daughter. I would give anything for one more day—one more minute—with you both. Instead, I find that I've been called by the Gods and by fate to stand at Noctis' side.
Would that I could stay with you, always. I don't believe I ever told you, but I always envisioned us settling down in Insomnia together when this was all over. Silly snippets of what our future would have been like have run rampant through my mind, more so now that the end is upon us. A dinner as a family every evening. Outings to the park and theater. Bedtime stories to our child every night. If we ever fought, it wouldn't be for long as we'd be too in love to let such trivial matters drive us apart. We'd tuck our daughter in for bed and we'd retire to our own room where we'd laugh at the stresses of our days and we'd make love until we fell asleep in each other's arms.
Please, go forth. Go on and live your life. Show our daughter the world. Show her how beautiful life can be now that the sun has returned. Take her to Steyliff where we first ventured through Royal Tombs together. Take her where we had our first run-in at Vaullerey (but maybe leave out the bit where you were ordered to kill us). Tell our daughter how you became the shining beacon of hope in this world and how her father will forever be grateful for the moment that her mother agreed—grudgingly, might I add—to help as he relearned to navigate a world so cold and ruthless.
Do this for me, my love. It's more than I could ever ask for.
I will love you, always.
Ignis
(written by Prompto :))
Aranea couldn't even crack a smile at the parenthetical remark and the smiley face that Prompto had written and drawn, obviously done to lessen the sadness of the letter—without Ignis' knowledge, she was sure.
She wanted to hate the situation—hate the Gods, hate the world, hate herself for falling so hard for Ignis when she'd been perfectly content with the notion of living alone the rest of her life—but she couldn't find the strength to muster up such emotions. Instead, her face crumpled and she laid back down with the letter and photograph clenched in her one hand and the other resting on her stomach, sobbing into her pillow.
Ignis held a mug of lukewarm coffee between his hands. The three were sitting wordlessly in front of an old TV in Takka's old restaurant. The radio at the other end of the building blared static and conversations between various daemon hunters across Lucis and it did well to break up the tension in the room.
The endless taunting between the three friends helped as well.
"So where did you head off to last night, Gladio?" Prompto smirked, taking a sip of his water.
"Ah, you know. Just here and there. Sat with Iris for a while and then hung out with a friend. No big deal."
"Oh. Hm. 'Friend.' Say, Ignis, aren't all of Gladio's friends right here?"
Ignis pretended to think, his fingers tapping at his chin mockingly. "I dare say you're right, Prompto. Gladio, what other friend could you possibly know aside from the ones sitting beside you?"
Gladio waved a large hand, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Maybe a little more than a friend. Don't act so childish about it," he groaned. Ignis and Prompto snorted in response, knowing full well that Gladio had become quite smitten with the bartender in Lestallum. He was an awful liar when it came to his emotions, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, so the two were quick to pick up on how serious Gladio was about this woman.
They stopped giggling though when Gladio turned his ire toward the blonde sharpshooter. "What about you, Prom? Any luck with Ms. Cindy last night? After all, you got here pretty damn early. Almost a solid twelve hours before I got here. I'd say that's more than enough time to at least get in a quick smooch . . . or mooorreee?"
"Bite me, asshole," Prompto snapped, suddenly defensive. That pretty much told Ignis and Gladio all they needed to know and they broke into a fit of giggles again.
"Come on, you know I'm just playing. She's just super into her work. You know it's not you."
Prompto shirked the comforting words, mumbling and sulking into his water. As they quieted down, the radio still resounding in the background, the sound of Gladio's phone rang from his pants pocket. They tensed up and Gladio inhaled sharply when he looked at the caller ID. "Shit. It's Talcott."
"Well, pick it up!" Prompto screeched, practically throwing himself across the bench seats to reach for the phone himself.
Gladio held it away from him and pressed the green button on the screen to answer. "Talcott? Yeah. Is everything ok?"
There was the faint sound of a voice on the other end of the line, barely audible to Prompto and Ignis, talking low and steady. Gladio's face split into a beaming grin and his laughter startled Ignis. "You . . . no way. Where? Galdin? How does he look? Is he ok? . . . Well, put him on the phone! I have some words for him for staying away for so long."
Prompto was vibrating in his seat with excitement. "Is that Noct? Does Talcott have Noct?"
Gladio shushed him and then laughed again. "Well, tell that son of a bitch to get his ass over here! . . . Alright. Drive safe, Talcott. See you soon. Yeah, we're in Hammerhead. Awesome. Bye." Gladio hung up the phone and looked more animated than he'd looked in the last ten years. "He's in Talcott's truck with Umbra. They'll be here soon. Talcott said he looks a little ragged, but otherwise unharmed."
While Prompto fired off a million questions, Ignis kept to himself, ruminating everything in his head. Ten years in the blink of an eye and suddenly his King was in a truck bound for them. He tried to listen to the conversation that Prompto and Gladio were having, but it was hard to focus. Ignis was wracked with nerves, but the good kind. Almost like a kid waiting for their birthday, knowing they'd be showered with presents galore.
The minutes seemed to drag, but finally the squeal of the chain-linked fence opening up made everyone's hearts stop. Tires crunched over errant gravel and the low hum of the engine ceased as Talcott turned the truck off. Already, Gladio was on his feet, strolling outside as Prompto pushed Ignis out of the booth seat so they could join him.
The passenger door creaked open and a pair of footsteps landed hard on the ground. Gladio was still walking ahead and Ignis smiled as Prompto tugged at his jacket sleeve. "It's him," he hissed. "Oh my Gods, Iggy, it's him! He's back!"
"Hey," Noctis greeted. It was nonchalant, like they'd all just seen each other earlier that day. The voice sounded exactly as it did before he entered the crystal, only now it was confident and noble. Even the way he walked sounded different. Ignis couldn't put a finger on it, but the ten years had unquestionably changed his charge for the better.
"'Hey?' Is that all you have to say for yourself after all these years?" Gladio teased, shoving the King by the shoulder.
"Noct, it's you! It's really you!" Prompto cried, circling his old best friend with wonder and amazement in his body language—almost as if he wasn't real. Noctis cracked a joke about how it really was him, but then Ignis knew Noctis caught sight of him by the way he stopped his laughing.
"Well, well," the advisor said with a hint of pride, "you kept us waiting."
It was a cool acknowledgment, but Ignis wasn't sure what else to say. There was so much and, yet, not enough time. How could anyone fit ten years into a single night? At most, 24 hours?
Noctis' hand clamped down on Ignis' shoulder and, initially, Ignis was stunned. It didn't seem real. But it was. His childhood friend's hand was on his shoulder. Reassuring. Heartfelt. He relaxed as Noctis replied, "Not like I wanted to be."
Ignis wanted to tell him that he understood. That he was sure if Noct had it his way, he would've come back far sooner, but Noctis stepped back to survey the men standing before him and Ignis waited for his next words. Noctis was no longer a prince. He'd become a king.
It was overwhelming.
Upon Noctis' suggestion, they all made their way over to the caravan, finding a seat at the plastic outdoor table and chairs, ready to make up for lost time.
They'd decided to spend one night in the caravan before making their way to the campsite just outside the Insomnian walls. Dressed in their Kingsglaive attire, they set out the following day.
Their last campfire.
The thought chilled Ignis' blood as he manned the stove, cooking for the men who laughed jovially around the campfire that Gladio built. It was like no time had passed and they quickly fell back into old patterns—cracking jokes and catching up. Prompto sounded like his old self for the first time since Noctis disappeared and he showed the King all the pictures he'd taken over the last ten years.
"Oh! Here's one of Cid working on your dad's old boat. It apparently drifted off to Angelguard after Iggy, Aranea, Cid, and Talcott were ambushed in Galdin."
Noctis hummed. "Ahhh . . . so that's how that got there! I was wondering how the hell the boat washed ashore there when I came to. I honestly thought Bahamut pulled some strings or something and had it conveniently put there."
"Nah, dude. Or . . . hmmm . . . maybe Bahamut put those events into motion? Eh, who knows. It's all too complicated for my sleep-deprived brain. Anyway! Here's a picture of me shooting at an Imp. Oh oh oh! Look at this one! Oh, eh, that one was just me messing with lighting and angles."
When Prompto came up on a picture of Ignis and Aranea looking particularly cozy, Noctis howled, yanking the camera from Prompto's hands and studying it carefully. "No way! Specs! You and Aranea?!"
Ignis hid a smile while Prompto nodded enthusiastically. "Ha! Right?"
"When did this happen?!"
"Oh, dude, it was crazy! First, she was just his sparring partner, then she kissed him after we defeated Cerberus—yeah, I'll get to that fight later—and then they waited for, like, a majority of the ten years to finally admit they liked each other and Iggy got birthday sex and they've been together ever since!" Prompto rattled off.
"Well, that's quite the story. Never would have pegged Specs with the Commodore, but I guess it makes sense. Glad to know she was the one to pull that stick from your ass and force you to have some fun." Noctis scrunched his nose as a new thought hit him. "But . . . while I'm happy that it's the four of us, she was more than welcome to join us if that was what you wanted. Where is she?"
Gladio snorted, moving his jacket to the back of his seat so he could sit comfortably. "Would you believe it if I told you she's on modified bed rest because someone knocked her up?"
Now, the King's eyes were as wide as humanly possible. "No . . . way . . ." he whispered in disbelief. "How am I just learning about this? Why was this not the first thing you guys said to me as I got out of the truck? Ignis, wow! Congratulations! You must be excited!"
The mood turned somber and Ignis kept his blind gaze trained toward the pot on the stove. Gladio pursed his lips and Prompto tried to show Noctis more photos, but Ignis could feel his King's stare on his back. Another minute and Noctis was excusing himself from Prompto as he made his way to Ignis' side.
"Majesty," Ignis smiled without turning to face Noctis.
The King snorted. "Always with the formalities. Some things never change."
"And some things do," he replied in jest.
A slow nod. "Boy or girl?"
"Girl."
"That's incredible," Noctis said happily. "Have any names picked out? The nursery planned?"
Ignis pointed in the general direction of where the dishes were on his prepping station. "Hand me some bowls, would you? Dinner's about ready."
He blinked before sighing, grabbing the bowls as requested and setting them out, side by side, so Ignis could start serving the food. "Was it an accident? Is that why you're refusing to acknowledge the fact that you have a child on the way?"
"Noct, please. I am in the middle of cooking. I don't have time— "
"Or," he interrupted, shoving the bowls into Ignis' waiting hands, "is it because you are afraid you won't come back alive?" When Ignis flinched, Noctis nodded and leaned against the station with his arms crossed. "Ah, there we go. Progress."
Ignis shook his head and filled each bowl with the food. "I took an oath, Noct; I swore to protect you. I was tasked as Insomnia's leading tactician and not having the answers to resolve this scenario in such a way where we all get out alive is tough. Learning that you were the Chosen King and that we all have a prophecy to fulfill hasn't been particularly easy on us. This is uncharted territory for me, so forgive me for lacking the words necessary to talk about anything regarding my life or where we go from here."
"Fair enough," Noctis agreed, falling back into silence as he thought about Ignis' words. "However, the Gods only need the blood of the Chosen King. It's never been explicitly stated that the others in that Prophecy painting need to fall for light to return."
Ignis didn't say anything and he felt Noctis' firm hand on his shoulder. "All I ask is that when we make our way to the Citadel steps, you, Gladio, and Prompto fight like hell to keep those daemons back. They'll want to stop me as I make my Ascension. If you can hold them off, we stand a chance of sending you guys back to Lestallum in one piece in time to see the sun rise and for you to watch your daughter grow up. After all, who else is going to rebuild Insomnia? We all know Cor's old ass won't want to be in charge by that point."
The last line brought a chuckle out of Ignis and he gave a half-smile. "You've grown into a fine young man. Your father would be proud of the King you've become."
"Ahh, well . . . I've had some amazing brothers help me along the way." Noctis started to step away, hands full with two of the four bowls, but he stopped and looked over his shoulder "One other thing?"
Ignis looked up, a bowl of food in each hand as he followed behind. "Yes, Majesty?"
"When light has been restored, please do me a favor and open your own restaurant. If you can't cook for me, you can at least cook for the people of Insomnia. And, who knows? You might get a brooding, jerk of a customer who hates vegetables as much as I did."
They laughed. "As you wish."
"If anyone can do it, it's you," Noctis smirked. "Now, come on; let's eat."
That last supper was full of emotion. They went back to laughing at first, but eventually Noctis' positive demeanor waned and Ignis noticed. Even blind, he could easily pinpoint his charge's mood changes. "Noct? Something the matter?"
Noctis worked through his words and emotions and Ignis waited patiently for him to voice his thoughts. "The four of us around a campfire," he pondered aloud. "How long's it been?"
The advisor leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. "An eternity." It wasn't an exaggeration. It sure felt like an eternity. Ten years without a single word or any sort of communication between them and Noctis had made the last decade crawl at an agonizing pace.
"So, yeah." The King took a shaking breath. "I, um . . ."
"Out with it," Gladio commanded, his arms crossed intimidatingly across his chest.
He tried again. "I just . . ." A frustrated grunt. "Dammit . . . why the hell is this so hard?"
The fire splintered the wood and shot embers into the dark air. Noctis stuttered, clenching and unclenching his fists. For the first time since reuniting with the three, Ignis could tell his façade of strength was crumbling. He was struggling now, more than ever, to reconcile with his fate. It was probably an easy thing to accept with none of his loved ones around, but now? Now that they'd all caught up and fallen back into old patterns and habits? Ignis would have given anything to take that pain away from him and he'd have gladly shouldered it himself.
"So I've . . . I've made my peace," he confessed. "Still . . . knowing this is it? And seeing you here now? It's . . ." Noctis stopped, the painful mass of emotions lodged in his throat. He narrowed his eyes as tears formed, gritting his teeth. ". . . more than I can take."
Noctis dropped his head, attempting to stifle the sobs. One by one, Ignis heard the other men falter in their equanimity and Ignis realized he, too, had started to cry. The tears fell down his cheeks, leaving a cold trail behind.
Gladio looked to the dark, clouded sky as Prompto laughed weakly. "Heh, you're damn right it is."
"Huh," the Shield grunted, blinking back more tears. "You spit it out."
"It's good to hear," Ignis sighed a trembling breath, unsure of what else to say. And, honestly, what could he say that would make it better?
Noctis rose to his feet, taking a single step toward the three friends. Ignis wanted to grab his King's hand, get on his knees and beg him to stay. It didn't have to be like this. He didn't have to go. Surely there was some other way. The Astrals couldn't possibly this cruel—and yet, here they were, ready to give their lives if that was how it had it be. How on Eos did it get to this point?
It wasn't fair.
Noctis' smile reached his eyes. "Well . . . what can I say?"
Another sob. Someone else sniffled. Ignis wasn't sure who was crying harder at this point, but he faced Noctis and tried to put on a brave face, as hard as it was.
One more deep breath.
"You guys . . . are the best."
They all tried to sleep but it was damn near impossible with the weight of the next day pressed against them. It was suggested that they just get up and head into the city if they weren't going to be sleeping anyway. With heavy hearts, they dragged their feet out of the tent and shrugged their uniform jackets on.
It wasn't even a thought to pack everything up. The chairs, the tent, the camping stove; all of it stayed exactly where it was set up. Without anything needing to be said, the four gathered in a hug, heads together and arms wrapped around each other. All these years and Ignis realized this was the first time the four of them embraced like this. The tears started again and they laughed, embarrassed, brushing the drops away with haste.
"Gentlemen? Shall we?" Ignis suggested upon pulling away, running a finger under his eye to wipe away another tear.
"Right," Noctis smiled when Gladio slapped him on the back. "We have a city to salvage, a throne to reclaim, and an evil, grudge-holding Chancellor to take down."
And together they marched into the ruins of the city they once called home.
Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in this chapter's release. Obviously, as you can see, it covered a lot of ground and I didn't want to put a half-finished chapter up just for deadline's sake. :) I debated cutting it up into two different chapters, and honestly I may go back and do that after I complete the story, but for now it's one super long chapter :D
I won't lie, I did tear up writing this chapter. It was an emotional few scenes! Only two more chapters!
I'm loving everyone's reactions and guesses to how this will end. Keep the reviews coming. You know I live for that little notification that someone reviewed my work :D Thanks so much for the constant support and feedback. It's been a wild ride these last six months and I couldn't have gotten through all of this without you all :)