Summary: The trial. The sentence. A reflection. A separation. And Ignis's struggles afterwards.
AN: Finally the first scene that I've written since the start of this fic has been added in - Ignis and Aranea's goodbye.
She'd stood on the stand. Swore an oath to speak the truth and nothing less. The charges were laid out before her - all neatly outlined in bullet points meant to paint her as who they wanted her to be.
Guilty.
Aranea looked into the eyes of General Caligo Ulldor and saw none of the usual recognition there. Not that there were ever any. It was like staring into the face of a complete stranger. There were other high-ranking officers with him, including one who used to be her drill sergeant. They don't know her anymore, after all these years. The woman before them was no longer the outstanding cadet, the one with a promising military career.
She'd pleaded guilty on only one account - of not voicing dissent, of allowing the atrocities of the Niflheim army to continue on. Her silence meant compliance, and it had cost the life of one man.
They clearly weren't interested in dragging the hearing for far longer than it was necessary, especially with the ruckus already happening outside. Ulldor gave one final parting word, and banged the gavel.
It sounded like a guillotine slicing over her neck.
Her sentence had already been given.
Ardyn eyed the crowd of people gathered at the gates of Fort Vaullerey. They were bearing placards and banners, chanting something he couldn't make out of. A sizeable film crew had also arrived, training their camera lenses on the goings ons within the military compound.
He beckoned towards someone. Loqi Tummelt sidled up next to him.
"Yes, Chancellor?" said the young man, hands held behind his back respectfully.
Ardyn motioned towards the gates. "What is all that?"
Loqi regarded the spectacle for a moment. "Protesters, sir. Apparently they're demanding for us to free comrade Aranea."
"Free?" Ardyn uttered a low chuckle, as if the very word amused him. "Oh, those poor, uneducated buffoons. Do they even know why she's here?"
"They do, sir. But given all the other mounting charges against us, her case was miniscule in comparison. They are saying that she is nothing more than a scapegoat, especially given her history with you- er..." he immediately faltered, staring at the Chancellor with consternation.
"Hm? What was that you wanted to say? Please don't let me stop you." Ardyn was smiling, in the same way a shark would smile in the presence of dinner.
Loqi cleared his throat rather nervously. "Given her history with us, sir."
"That's much better. Now run along."
Loqi scurried off with much jangling of his armour.
The corner of Ardyn's mouth twitched in mild irritation. Those brash yokels at the gate weren't the only thing he had to contend with. The King of Lucis himself had deigned to descend from his lofty perch at Crown City just to appear at the hearing, going so far as to demand that Aranea was represented fairly. He'd even brought the entire menagerie with him: those gaggle of three idiotic handmaidens forever trailing after his shadow, the Marshal, the future queen herself…
...and a squad of Glaives standing to attention, ready to spring into action should their king commands them to.
And at the centre of it all…
Aranea.
Now wasn't the time to be trying anything. Not when there's camera lenses ready to record what was going on.
So he spread out his arms, as if welcoming her back into his loving bosom.
Aranea stared at the chanting crowd. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
All she could think of, at that very moment, was the final phone call she made to Julian the previous night.
"I...might be going away for awhile, kid. I don't know when I'll be back." If ever.
"Where are you going?"
"A bunch of people said that I did something wrong, and I'm getting a timeout for that."
"You get timeouts too? I thought that only happens to me."
"Adult timeouts are different from kids. Sometimes we get put away for a very long time. But I'm really hoping that that wouldn't happen to me. I wanna see you grow up!"
"Would I still be able to talk to you? Send you my drawings?"
She hesitated. She wasn't sure about that. "You could try. Get Ignis to help you out. Speaking of him, I want you to listen to him and Edna while I'm away, okay? They're both in charge. And I think you'll be starting school in Insomnia soon."
"I'm nervous, mom."
"You'll be fine. If anyone gives you any trouble, tell Ignis about it right away, okay? He'll know what to do."
"'K." Then, after the briefest of pauses, he added: "I miss you, mom."
"I miss you too, kid. And I love you. You know that, right?"
"'Course I do."
"Now put Edna on. I need to talk to her."
There was the sound of shuffling from Julian's end, followed by a quick exchange of muffled conversation.
"Ms. Highwind?"
"Edna," Aranea began, but suddenly realized she didn't know how to continue. "I…"
"I've heard. Mr. Scientia had already informed me. It's terrible, what they're doing to you. If there's any way I could help-"
"Just take care of Julian. He's gonna need you now, more than ever."
"He needs you even more, Ms. Highwind. He's a very brave boy, trying his best to understand the situation that you're in."
"I know. Kid's tough, but...we're already askin' too much of him."
"He will cope. He knows that there are people who can help him now."
Aranea tried again. "Edna, I'm-" She's what? Sorry for what happened to Edna's daughter? To her life? That she was partially at fault? What was she expecting out of this? Forgiveness? To lay out the truth? If it did, would it finally free her of this sense of guilt? Was this really going to be her last confession?
How ironic was it, that the woman whose daughter was killed because of Aranea was now being charged with taking care of her own child?
Oh, Ardyn must've been so gleeful when he'd thought of that.
Even more so when he's delivered the master stroke of what he believed to be poetic justice
He really must be strutting to his own triumphant march now.
When Edna spoke, she spoke with such conviction and benevolence. "I know, Ms. Highwind. Unburden yourself. Do not hold on to this any longer. I've made peace with the past. So should you."
Aranea found herself gripping the phone harder, her finger twirled around the phone cord in nervousness.
"Julian is in good hands, I can promise you that. You need not worry."
Aranea said only two words before she hung up. "Thank you."
There was no way to see Aranea alone after the hearing. She was put under constant surveillance the moment she'd arrived.
Thirteen months.
That's what she got for torturing a prisoner of war.
Nevermind the fact that she was acting upon the commands of her superiors.
Her desertion had been a moot point. She was merely a trainee, not even conscripted to the army yet. And the law had explicitly stated that those who flee an active warzone deserves the capital punishment.
She was cleared of that, thankfully.
The whole trial was merely a farce. The Niflheim army had been receiving a lot of flak over the atrocities happening in their detention camps, and also alleged illegal experiments on humans and daemons. Aranea was the convenient sacrificial lamb they'd strung up to be made an example of. Just a PR stunt meant to appease the angry and disenchanted masses.
Cor had done his very best, of course. As did Noctis. They stood on the stand with their statements, saying that Aranea was an exemplary individual, who did what she did because the institution she'd once stood for had failed her. They'd quoted examples where former Niflheim supporters had joined Lucis, and that Aranea's case wasn't a unique one. They both looked at Caligo Ulldor and blatantly criticized the army for grandstanding and refusing to see the real issue at hand.
The General was dismissive, stating that their points were irrelevant to the hearing, although by then their words had already swayed the jury. Ignis felt proud. He was the one who coached them on what to say.
And now he watched as Ardyn spread out his arms, smiling at them. Ignis felt a momentary wave of disgust. That man was probably secretly gleeful that he'd gotten Aranea right where he wanted. Whatever small, intolerable cruelties he had planned for her later...Ignis couldn't bear thinking about that at all.
Aranea was standing so near to him. He wanted, more than anything else, to hold her right now. He won't get the chance to do so after this.
It was as if she'd read his mind. She turned around, making eye contact with him. There were already a thousand goodbyes written all over her face. He nodded at her, stoic and reserved. His hand came up to touch her upper arm.
"Aranea," he said, formally acknowledging her. But she knew. She knew that hidden within the four syllables of her name as he said it was a reminder, of the marks he'd left on her body, of the kisses that they've shared, and of the love they've made together.
She couldn't trust herself to speak without bursting into tears, so she merely nodded back and gave him a small smile.
Noctis and Lunafreya was next. Aranea held out her hand, opting for a handshake instead of a bow. "Well, Your Majesties...looks like I-"
"Oh, none of that shit," said Noctis, stepping forward and giving her a hug. "You come back to us, ya hear me?" he whispered fiercely into her ear. "That's an order. If you don't, I swear I'll go all the way to Gralea myself just to get you."
Lunafreya hugged her too, kissing both of her cheeks and cupping her face with both hands. "I shall personally see to it that Julian is well taken care of," she said.
Gladiolus heartily clapped a hand onto her shoulder. "Next time I see ya - and I will see ya, drinks're on me."
Prompto - bless the chocobo chick - smothered her with all his might, never wanting to let her go. "I'll help look after Julian too," he said, voice muffled into her shoulder. "I love you."
Aranea smiled. "Love ya too. And...thanks. For everything."
With a nod from Ardyn, a soldier stepped forward, holding a pair of handcuffs. Ignis clicked his tongue in displeasure. "Is that really necessary? She's not an escaping convict."
"Protocols, safety procedure, that kind of thing," drawled Ardyn. He affected an innocent stance. "I didn't write the rule book, you know."
Aranea felt the cold steel clamping around her wrists, felt it tighten until it bit into her skin. Her arms now dangled uselessly before her, weighed down. She half-expected a noose to fall around her neck and drag her all the way to the airship. It never came.
A lieutenant marched up and saluted at Ardyn. "Permission to proceed transporting the prisoner, sah!"
"Fine, fine, yes. Let's get this over and done with."
Two soldiers flanked Aranea, escorting her towards the gangway of the transporter. Another squadron was standing to attention near the ship. All of this fanfair, all this trouble, just for one woman.
One extraordinary woman.
The crowd at the gates chanted their protests even louder.
Ignis watched her going further and further away from him, a tug in his heart and a scream pouring out of every fibre of his being at the injustice of it all. She will be gone soon, and once more he'll be left behind with nothing but memories of her. His fingers curled into fists. Julian was the only memento of what they have, of what they will have in the future...even though the future seemed so uncertain right now. He couldn't just let her leave. He wielded power in the royal courts, and yet it still wasn't enough to save Aranea. He was useless, helpless.
Lost.
She's nearing the gangway now. Only a few feet more, and then there's no turning back.
Suddenly galvanized into action, he felt his feet moving before he'd even realized what he was doing.
There were shouts, rifles drawn. He pushed soldiers aside, and he barely registered a barked out command to stand down. He didn't care about all that.
"Aranea!" he shouted, pleading to the heavens that he'd be graced with this one last chance.
She turned, surprise registering on her face.
He grabbed her and kissed her, with all his heart and soul and everything in between.
Let the world stop, let everything end. But not this. Never this.
He would never lose her again, for as long as he lives.
Hands grabbed him roughly, forcing them apart.
"I will wait for you," he vowed, as he was pulled back. "Do you hear me? I will wait!"
Aranea nodded, eyes now glimmering with tears. He watched as the gangway closed, and he wasn't quite sure, but he thought he saw her mouth something just before she disappeared out of sight.
It could be anything.
It could be nothing.
But he really wanted to believe that she'd said the one most important thing.
I love you.
On the elevator ride to the top, Ignis stood in silence, closing his eyes and only opening them once the doors dinged.
Noct's apartment was deathly silent when he entered. It's almost as if he's desecrating the hallowed grounds of a tomb. Ignis half-expected to hear the pitter patter of feet and Aranea would pop around the corner with a big smile on her face.
He was sorely disappointed when that didn't happen.
He made his way towards the bedroom, mentally steeling himself for what he was about to see. Why was this one of the hardest things he had to do?
The sheets were still rumpled from their frenzied bouts of lovemaking the previous night.
Ignis stared at Aranea's makeup strewn across the vanity table, at her open luggage with lumps of unfolded clothes spilling out of it like a disemboweled creature. She who never unpacks because she was in the perpetual state of leaving. Always moving, always impermanent, so much so that she'd once thought that Ignis was merely a fleeting encounter. Well, he was determined to become her point of home from now on.
There was a glass of unfinished water, still stained with her lip gloss. She must've forgotten to send it to the kitchen. Normally he would've berated this kind of behaviour, but this time he was glad that she'd forgot. Because it meant that signs of her presence was still here. He made a promise to himself that once they're back together again, he would never nag her for leaving dirty dishes around. He'd gladly clean up after her, if only to keep on reminding himself how lucky he was to have her.
He picked up her perfume, taking a whiff at it; and immediately his mind played a fast-forwarded slideshow of snapshots. Of her. Only of her. Her bare shoulders as he kissed them. Her hair tickling his nose every morning. The way her eyebrows would shoot up whenever she's delivering the punchline of a joke. That adorable crinkle on her nose everytime she's annoyed at him. The way her palm felt when they held hands. That cocky grin she'd give when she won an argument with him. Each image quickly superseded by the next, all flickering across the silent cinema in his mind, of which he was the only audience.
His fingers ran over her laptop - quite possibly her most used item. He thought about the countless hours she'd spend over it; how she'd looked when she was working on something important; the marks she'd left on it - her fingerprints, skin cells, her very DNA. It may seem silly and trivial, but they're all very important to him. They're proof of her existence, that there were bright points in his life where she's alive, radiant and beautiful. The laptop was currently powered off, but she'd given him her unlock password just in case.
Just in case she never came back.
He choked.
Finding a means to distract himself, he began picking up her clothes and folded them, placing them into a neat pile before storing it into the luggage. He'd packed up the remaining few of Julian's things too, although apparently Aranea had already done most of the work. She'd thought of their son first before she'd ever thought of herself.
Now all that's left was the bedsheet. He sat down on the mattress for a moment, mentally replaying the things they did last night. They'd really treated it as if they'd never see each other again. She'd looked at him with such longing in her eyes, running her hands down his face. Moments like that were now crystallized in amber in his mind, suspended in time in which he could replay it over and over again.
He sank himself into the pillows, and once more Aranea's smell enveloped him.
His eyes burned. Pain, loneliness and desolation gripped him within their tiny red-hot wings and trapped him in a perished landscape with no stars nor roads to guide him out of.
For a moment, all that could be heard within those four walls were soul-wracking sobs.
"I wanna do something for her. Dammit, it just doesn't feel right - just sitting here and carrying on as if nothing's wrong."
"It is precisely because of that that you must carry on as if nothing's wrong."
Noctis stared at his old friend, his confidant, his own Royal Advisor. "Don't you want to do anything?"
"You know my answer to that, Noct. I do...but as it is, protocol strictly dictates that we are to remain neutral in political matters during our public address. There is already a division within the royal courts. Throwing your weight behind one side will only create a disproportionate imbalance, and that will cause even further discord among our people. We need to be united on all fronts - now, especially. We are already poised at the cusp of a great political shift. Your marriage, for starters. And Lady Lunafreya's coronation. At this point, we must focus on the bigger picture, and not allow ourselves to be distracted over other things."
Noctis said nothing. He leaned back in his seat, continued staring at Ignis. Eventually he shook his head in amazement.
"I don't know how you do it," he said. "Seriously. The love of your life is in prison, and yet you could still stand there and talk about my wedding."
"I do what I must. As should you." Ignis relaxed his stance, allowing himself to be at ease. "I appreciate your intent on this, Noct. I really do. But now, more than ever, you are subject to great scrutiny, and with that, we must take extra care on how we proceed next. We want the monarchy to come out strong, and if by doing so requires certain sacrifices, then...let it be so."
"That's complete baloney. I know you're up to something. Tell me."
Ignis sighed. There really was no hiding things from the king. "My efforts are small, but concentrated. At this point I could only wield the power of free press-"
"Meaning that those articles Dino and Vyv have been trumpeting about was your doing? And also that crowd during the hearing? Have you actually seen how many people had turned up for that? It was all anyone could talk about for days! I should've known. Well? What's the outcome?"
"Success is...promising. They may have managed to drum up more supporters for the cause. Sympathizers, mainly. Disenchanted Imperials. People still on the fence regarding the conflict. But at the very least people are listening, and taking action. That is more than I could've asked for."
"Well, it's better than nothing."
"Precisely."
"I don't like it, Aranea not being here. The concert should be partly about her."
"No. It should be about the people. You, me, everyone else are just a small part to the bigger scheme."
Noctis sighed. "I guess you're right."
Ignis rushed down the school hallway, scattering a group of students along the way. He'd just received a call from Julian's teacher. Apparently the boy had gotten into a fight, and he was now being held at the headmistress's office.
It's only been a week now since Julian had lived with him. He'd transferred him back to Insomnia and brought him to stay at his apartment. He'd made arrangements with Edna to look after Julian occasionally, but other than that, he was now a full-time dad - chauffeuring Julian to school, fixing his meals, checking his homework, and planning outings for the coming weekend. Julian's continuous existence had also gradually crept into his office - from the Justice Monsters 5 stickers now decorating the edge of his pristine sofa, to the scribbled drawings proudly put on display in picture frames; and staff had to stifle their laughter at the cactuar plushie and colourful toy train now gracing the top of his otherwise utilitarian desk.
The headmistress was already waiting for him, along with the teacher. There was Julian, sitting sullenly in one corner; his nose dribbling with dried blood and looking scruffier than ever. There was also the other boy, sporting a black eye and a busted lower lip, being flanked by his parents as they argued heatedly with the teacher.
"Ah, Mr. Scientia," said the headmistress, a measure of relief in her voice. "So kind of you to join us. Please, have a seat."
The other parents stopped talking and stared at him. They scrutinized his smartly-pressed suit, the gleaming royal insignia pinned to his coat lapel, and at the impeccable air of how carried himself. They were having trouble connecting this man to the demonic barbarian who'd just punched their son and wrestled him to the ground during recess.
"Allow me to introduce-" the headmistress began.
The other father pushed his head forth into Ignis's personal space, jabbing an accusatory finger to his nose. "Your son hit my son. You will pay for his hospital bills, and I demand compensation!"
Ignis kept his eyes fixed firmly on the headmistress. "Tell me what really happened."
The headmistress shot him a rather sheepish smile, as if embarrassed by this very matter. "Julian was involved in a brawl with Quint earlier on. Apparently Quint had called insulting names to Julian's mother, and that was when the attack happened."
"This wasn't the first incident," Julian's teacher spoke up. "He had come to me before, saying that Quint had been bothering him for the past few days."
"Bothering him how?" Ignis asked.
"Broke his things, left rude messages in his locker. At one time he almost fell down the stairs, and he claimed that Quentin had tripped him."
"Is that true?"
"I have questioned Quentin regarding the incident, and he denied it."
"Has my son shown you the offending notes?"
"He did, yes. But I felt that they were nothing more than a harmless prank. The children tend to play tricks with one another...simply because they wish to be friends but don't know how to articulate it properly."
The headmistress cleared her throat. "Now I'm afraid I would have to put this morning's incident in Julian's school record, stating that he'd been in a fight with another student," she said. "It is protocol, and we do look into these matters very seriously."
"So let me get this straight," said Ignis, calmly and deliberately. He had the manner of someone poised to deliver the killing stroke, and only Julian could recognize it because he'd used that very tone everytime he was denied dessert for misbehaving. "My son has approached you, reporting the transgressions Quentin had done to him - one of which, I would add, could potentially cause him serious harm - and yet you took no action. And according to you, this harrassment has been going on for a while, under your tutelage, and under the very roof of your school." He pointed at the headmistress at this point. "And on the day when Julian decided to take action, to defend himself, and to defend the very honour of his mother, you choose to penalize him? Madam, I don't know if you are aware, but his mother is currently serving a prison sentence and that experience has taken a toll on my son. It is a matter of great sensitivity to him, and by provoking him, Quentin has clearly demonstrated to everyone in this room that he - very obviously - possess none."
Quentin's father opened his mouth to protest, but Ignis beat him to the punch.
"By putting this incident in my son's record," he said, "you would have permanently and irreversibly branded him as a thug, a bully who knows no other mode of communication other than with his fists; while the whole truth of the incident will be obscured with muddy facts and hearsay. That same record will be carried forth to his high school, of which again he will be painted out unfavourably by his teachers and peers. So you see, madam, the injustice of this matter? He acted out of self-defense, and yet you chose to punish him. What of Quentin, then? Does he merely get off with a stern warning and a rap across the knuckle? Is that it?"
"He shall undergo proper disciplinary action, yes. His behaviour shall also be taken note in his record-"
"And how does that serve as a deterrent to his future behaviour? Would you be able to guarantee me that he won't be a repeat offender? If not to my son, then to other students?"
"Mr. Scientia, it really isn't-"
"School chooses to not take sterner action towards bullying. I'm sure the Minister of Education would be very interested to investigate as to why this is the case."
The headmistress blanched. She really didn't need this amount of unfavourable attention.
"Nonsense," Quentin's father scoffed. "He's just bluffing. There's no way that he personally knows the Minister of Education."
"I am the Royal Advisor, sir. As it is, I have the ear of King Noctis himself. And I do believe that the Minister of Education's office is just one floor below mine."
Ignis relished the moment of choked silence. Stupidity and ignorance he could deal with. And Quentin's father was no different from the usual rabble he had to handle on a daily basis.
"Madam, please expunge my son's records of these charges," he said to the headmistress. "I shall personally ensure that he will not repeat this kind of behaviour in future."
Twenty minutes later saw him occupying one of the plastic chairs lining outside the staff room with Julian seated next to him. Ignis leaned back, legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles while the boy slouched in sullen silence.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" he eventually asked.
Julian continued his silent treatment. He clenched and unclenched his right fist, eyes burning holes on the floor.
"I know you are still angry-"
"He called her a dirty Niff!" Julian finally burst out. "An Imperial scum. He said he's glad that she's not here, otherwise she'd bring her MT troops and kill us all. He told me to go back home to the dog pound where I belong. He also said that I should eat shit 'cos that's what I really am." His voice quavered at this point, choked with emotion. He was so close to tears. "I hate this! I hate everything here! Why're people so mean to mom? She never did anything to them! Was it because she killed that man like they said? Is she really a bad person?"
Ignis had already reached out to wrap an arm around Julian, pulling the boy into a tight hug. His heart swelled at the sight of this tormented soul, too young to understand the world, too helpless to do anything about it. His burden wasn't something a child ought to carry, and yet there he was, soldiering on with more guts and gumption even some adults couldn't muster.
"What Quentin said and did, was uncalled for," said Ignis. "He had no right at all to treat you - or anyone else for that matter - the way he did. And no - your mother is not a bad person. Why didn't you say anything to me about this? I would've done something about it."
Face buried into Ignis's shoulder, Julian mumbled something incoherent.
"What did you say? I didn't quite catch that."
"I don't wanna lose any friends! Dad used to come to my old school and saw my teacher, and after that nobody talked to me anymore because they're scared of dad."
Realization finally dawned. Poor, darling child. The answer was painful and heartbreaking but Ignis had to say it.
"You are afraid of being alone again."
Julian hiccoughed, beads of tears now falling down his face. They glistened in his lashes, each droplet a testament to his deep suffering. He suddenly pushed himself off Ignis. "I want you to train me. On how to fight. So that the next time anybody's mean to me, I could do something about it."
"And you think that doing nothing would be construed as cowardice? Weakness?"
"Yeah, obviously! I don't wanna be a wimp! C'mon, you should teach me! If you won't, I'll just ask uncle Gladio to do it."
"Violence is never the answer, Julian. That is the one important thing anyone should learn before they take up arms. Being a warrior doesn't just mean bashing heads willy nilly. There's discipline, commitment...and responsibility." Ignis sighed, thinking that he should nip this matter in the bud before it got worse. "You need to learn to pick your battles. Some could be won by walking away, while some isn't even worth fighting for."
"This one is," said Julian in quiet vehemence. "It's mom we're talking about here. I can't not do anything. Even you would've done something. Admit it."
"I would have, yes. But I would also think it through first. I would be smart about it, and that is something you have to understand in due course. Anyone who says that weakness is a liability is a downright fool. Strength is a gift. But so is weakness. One cannot exist without the other, and you need both to really understand who you are."
"But I don't wanna understand who I am! I just want to smash Quentin's stupid face in!"
"You are angry - rightfully so. And you don't know how to deal with it. You think that hitting him is the best course of action. But really: you can start by talking to me about it first. We can figure out the next step together. I do not want you to resort to unnecessary violence from here onwards, do you understand me? I wish to raise a gentleman, not an uncouth barbarian. You're afraid of losing friends if I come over to school too often, but you'd still lose them anyway if you start beating other children up just because they looked at you wrong."
Julian said nothing. Ignis allowed a moment for his words to sink in. Eventually the boy leaned in for another hug. "I'm sorry for causing you trouble. Are you mad at me?"
"No, I'm not. I am worried, however...and perhaps a bit disappointed. I will suspend your tv rights for a week. I want you to take that free time to properly reflect on your actions."
Julian sighed. "Fiinneeee." Then added: "I really miss mom."
Ignis kissed the top of his head. "I know, love. So do I."
The day of Noct's wedding dawned bright and beautiful.
Ignis woke Julian up, nudging the still sleepy boy out of bed and persuading him to take a shower. He then proceeded to make breakfast, hearing the skies being punctuated by the booming sounds of canon salutes, fired once on a ten minute interval. He'd kept careful track. Seven shots so far. Seven more to make fourteen, to mark the coming of Lucis's 114th king, Noctis Lucis Caelum himself.
He turned on the tv, where all the major channels were showing nothing but a live telecast of the wedding's goings ons, followed by a constant stream of commentary. He watched as the camera switched from a view of the Citadel, to the team of guards maintaining the controlled flow of traffic, and right up to an aerial shot from a drone, capturing the throng of people filling up the streets. The royal procession won't start until 10am, but by 8am the barriers running along the route were already packed. Some had actually been waiting since 6am.
A newscaster appeared, giving an hourly report. There was the official wedding portrait of Noct and Lady Lunafreya superimposed next to her, along with a crawling title at the bottom, saying '700 million gil tourism boost from royal wedding'. Which really wasn't too far from the mark. Given Lady Lunafreya's status as Oracle and beloved princess of Tenebrae, her people had flocked over to Insomnia just to witness her marriage and coronation. There were even stalwart supporters from Accordo and other Empire-controlled regions - all celebrating the herald of a promising era. And they'd all converged in the big city, eager to experience this historical moment.
Ignis felt a sudden deep pang in his heart.
Julian barrelled straight into him, naked save for a towel covering him. His hair was dripping wet from the shower, and after breakfast Ignis spent the next half hour grooming the boy the best he can. He was fully prepared this time - a careful and strategic application of pomade had tamed Julian's wild locks into much more manageable curls.
"We really should see into giving you a proper haircut," Ignis murmured, wrestling an errant lock into place. Much to his dismay, it sprang back up, flouting his authority over the matter.
"I look weird. I don't look like me at all," Julian pouted, staring at himself in the mirror. He was made to dress in a dark blue drummer boy suit, along with a light blue sash to match the colours of King Noctis. He would be one of the page boys made to stand with the king during the ceremony, and he'd only agreed doing so after being bribed with bountiful desserts and a brand new pair of sneakers.
And now he was beginning to regret his choice. Nobody mentioned anything about having his hair done.
He unhappily fingered the golden frogging on his front.
"Do I have to kiss any of the girls?" he asked.
Ignis carefully affixed the royal sigil pin to Julian's sash. "Not if you don't want to. Which girl are you referring to?"
"Y'know, the one who brings flowers for Lady Lunafreya…"
"Oh, the flower girls, you mean? No, you don't have to."
"Are you gonna kiss any girls? What's that?"
"This?" He had another pin in hand. "This is the Scientia family coat of arms. They usually go together with the royal family's." He made final adjustments to the sash. "You are a Scientia now. We are a line of wise, tenacious and brave men and women. Wear it with pride. And to answer your first question: no, I'm not going to kiss any girls. I only save that for your mother."
"Eww…"
"You can 'eww' all you like, young man...but that is not going to change anything," said Ignis with mock sternness. "Now, run along and wait for me to get ready. And do try not to spill anything on yourself, please. I mean it."
Ignis's suit was all prepared the night before. He stared at it, still hanging from the hook against the wall.
There was another resounding boom. The eleventh. All hail King Noctis and his new bride.
His gaze shifted to the other item of clothing next to his.
Aranea's dress, meant to be worn on this very day. It was beautiful - dove grey satin gleaming in the light, and on her it would look absolutely perfect. He could just see her in it now, flipping her long bangs out of her face as she smiles at him, a shade of glossy rouge staining her lips in such a way that would drive him mad the rest of the day.
She who proudly flexes her independence. One who will not have another man's name to bind her ever again. He didn't mind. If anything else, he would still gladly share his privileges and everything he had with her. She could be Lady Highwind or Lady Highwind-Scientia. Whichever she preferred.
He just wanted her back.
Her golden wings were right where he saw it last: pinned on the left side of the bodice.
He took the Scientia sigil pin and placed it over the dress, right next to the wings, wondering how they looked like together. He could ask the College of Arms to combine them both, making it an impaled coat of arms - symbolizing his union with Aranea.
But of course they'd have to get married first.
He'd stored that aside, in the part of him that wishes for several possible futures for them.
But as of right now, he was here, in the present. Aranea would've wanted him to soldier on, focus on doing the task at hand. She would've even punched him and kicked him in the buttock if she had to. Yelled at him at least. Call him stupid and pathetic and a loser. That's how she got things done. No time for pity parties. Pick yourself up, toughen up, and keep going with a stiff upper lip. At least that's what he and Aranea had in common.
He will see her again. Everyday he's marking down the calendar for the day they'd finally be reunited. He thought about the things that he wanted to do to her, with her…
The doorbell rang. That must be Prompto. They were meant to be going to the wedding venue together.
He clenched his sigil pin in his fist. Noct needs him right now. Julian needs him always. He will do his very best to fulfill both duties.
As for Aranea...he'd promised that he would wait for her.
And he will.
THE END.
OR NOT.
Next episode: Season finale - the bumper issue. Will they see each other again?
-0-
AN: I really like the idea of Lucis noble families having their own coat of arms, much like what the British monarchy does. Those especially who have done great service to the country and king will be granted titles and property. Since the Scientias and Amicitias have been in service to the king for two generations, I'd imagined that they too would have their own coat of arms. And most likely Prompto too, under King Noct's ruling.
And yes: there are such things as impaled coat of arms. That happens when two noble houses are joined in marriage. Their coat of arms will then be combined together. So I reckon Lunafreya's coat of arms would be different once she's part of the Caelum's household.
