Never really finished this and not sure I ever will, but here's what I have. Just a little drabble that I wrote a while back but never showed to the world, not beta-read, not overly edited. Seemed fitting enough for Father's Day. Couldn't even really come up with a title for it, other than just "Council Chamber." Hope you like it!
Gladiolus Amicitia[9:12PM]: What's the word?
Ignis Scientia[9:13PM]: At this point, I am contemplating homicide.
Gladiolus Amicitia[9:14PM]: That bad, huh? Well, hang in there, it's the last night. I'll have something special waiting for you when you get home. ;)
It was the last night of this term, the last bill up for a vote, the last provision to settle, and the council picked this night to draw out the arguments. For the better part of five hours they'd been deliberating over the most minute details, combing through line by line as if the entire chamber hadn't already read it several times over. The fact that Ignis even had to be there was ludicrous, but he supposed that's what he gets for refusing a maternity leave. He knew he'd be cutting it close, but he wanted to see this year's term come to a peaceful end after the hard work he'd put into not only this bill, but the many others that came to vote over these last few weeks. His due date had come and gone, and he counted his blessings that he was still able to work at all. At least, he did at first.
The contractions began in the early afternoon, some time after the lunch break. He remembered they were discussing something about the road maintenance budget at the time. He gasped when the pain struck, and the king's head turned, along with a few others. He wasn't concerned then — he'd had plenty of them over the course of his last weeks of pregnancy. This one was surely no different.
Then it happened again. And again. Enough times that Ignis felt it necessary to at least begin tracking them. He scribbled the times on his notepad between council members' sermons, all the while insisting to his colleagues that he was perfectly fine. He only accepted a recess when Regis himself demanded a restroom break.
"We will reconvene in fifteen minutes."
Ignis didn't get up right away. A particularly bothersome contraction struck just as the gavel fell. His back tensed as he shot upright, clutching his pen tightly in his fist. He took slow breaths through his nose and waited quietly while the other council members filed out of the chamber to enjoy their short respite. Once again, his discomfort was not unnoticed by the king, and before he could rise to follow them out, Ignis was stopped by a gentle hand on his arm.
"You must be tired, Ignis," the King stated sympathetically. "You have my leave to go home and rest at any time. We can fill you in on the results tomorrow morning."
At this rate, Ignis was almost certain he wouldn't be home in the morning.
No, he had to make it through this. Weeks were spent putting this bill together, and likewise weeks were spent deliberating, arguing, adding and removing items — along with all the preaching and posturing to be expected of career politicians. He wasn't about to miss the final vote. Not when he'd put in so much time and effort. If this child had finally decided it was time to arrive, they could wait until after the council was dismissed.
Ignis swallowed hard, masking his pain as best he could. "I appreciate your consideration, sir, but that won't be necessary."
Though very obviously wary, the king knew better than to argue with the determined advisor. "Very well," he gave Ignis a gentle squeeze of the shoulder. "But don't overdo it. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you in my council chamber."
"Really, I'm quite alright," Ignis insisted with a confident smile. "A little fatigue never hurt anyone."
The king returned his smile with a warm one of his own. "I look forward to the end of this session, as well. This holiday break will be much-needed."
"Agreed, sir. We could all use some time off."
Regis offered one last smile and a wave as he hobbled off down the hall.
Ignis Scientia[10:56PM]: At last, we're about to vote.
Gladiolus Amicitia[10:57PM]: Want me to heat up your dinner?
Ignis Scientia[10:57PM]: No, thank you.
Ignis Scientia[10:58PM]: Not much interest in eating.
Gladiolus Amicitia[10:59PM]: You okay?
Ignis Scientia[11:03PM]: Just tired.
Much to Ignis's dismay, the pains did not stop after a short break, they did not stop with a glass of water, and they did not stop simply because he asked them to. He kept one eye on the clock as the session continued, counting minutes and seconds between every clench and growing ever more nervous as those gaps gradually closed. It won't be much longer, he reminded himself. Any moment now, they will pass this bill and you can go home. He exhaled sharply as the screen on his desk lit up, awaiting his choice. He quickly submitted a vote of 'yay' before quietly packing his belongings into his bag, preparing to barrel out of the chamber as soon as the signing was completed.
His eyes having drifted from the clock, he was unprepared for the next contraction that struck him. He hissed, dropping his pen in shock and once again drawing the attention of his peers. The man beside him stole a glance and scooted farther away. The king's eyes, filled with concern, pierced into him for every second he tried to avoid meeting them. A few other faces from across the room turned to his direction. Ignis dropped his head as his own face began to flush with embarrassment. Of all the times to cause a scene, now was not an option.
A single bead of sweat trickled down his temple, the result of his efforts to maintain his composure as the pressure inside his body climbed over its peak. Bracing himself against the arms of his chair, Ignis kept his breaths slow and deep, silent as he could manage until the pain finally began to fade. The vote was agonizingly slow, no doubt thanks to some of the ancient politicians toward the front of the room, too old and feeble-minded to understand how to use their devices. But, Ignis pushed down those bitter thoughts, unwilling to heap resentment onto his colleagues until after he had their votes.
Praise be to the Astrals, at nearly half past eleven, the votes were counted and the bill passed with an overwhelming majority. Ignis was not at all surprised, but exceedingly grateful to know that not only had his hard work paid off, but that some real good could be done for his community. However, his mind was too distracted to really relish in the accomplishment of his victory. As the documents were delivered to the king's desk to be signed, the same voice which announced the results was making another triumphant proclamation over the dull murmurs of the crowd.
"And, to the committee who put forth such time and effort in drafting this bill, who accepted revision after revision, who waited through weeks of deliberation, and who probably can't contain their joy in this moment," the booming voice said cheerfully. "If you would all please stand and be acknowledged by your peers. You have our sincerest congratulations."
All the color drained from Ignis's face as the men at his table rose from their seats. Every head in the room turned to face his committee, every eye falling to him — the leader, the man who wrote the majority of this bill. Anyone else might have gotten away with remaining seated and acknowledging the growing applause with a polite wave, but not he. Difficult as it was, Ignis managed, as gracefully as possible, to stagger to his feet and plaster on a smile to match that of his fellow committee members. The clapping amplified and cheers rang through the hall. Ignis closed his eyes, listening to the chorus of praise echoing toward him, letting himself indulge for just a moment. Just until the clapping would be halted by the traditional closing remarks, he allowed himself to enjoy a glimmer of relief.
Be it a cruel joke by fate or just a stunning coincidence, that was the moment his water broke.
"Come now, sit down. It's alright."
Leaning heavily on Regis, who leaned just as heavily on his cane, Ignis was led to a secluded office somewhere off the main hall, where he lowered carefully into a comfortable leather chair. Soaked trousers and all, he lamented that he couldn't at least lay down a towel first to protect the furniture — gods only knew whose office this was. But at the very least, he was given the privacy he needed, and a warm place to dry off and wait for the rest of the council to leave.
The pain had diminished for the moment, and his heart rate began to fall in turn. "Thank you, Your Majesty… for covering…"
"Pay it no mind. I was just as eager to get out of there," the king smiled warmly, patting his shoulder. "Though perhaps not quite so impatient as the little one."
Ignis exhaled slowly, rhythmically stroking his fingers over his swollen belly as if it would calm the restless child inside. "Such a willful child… In front of all those people…"
Regis grinned, bringing a fond twinkle to his eye. "I thought Counselor Fineas was going to faint."
"Indeed," Ignis begrudgingly agreed. "I'm grateful that he didn't say anything…"
The experience would likely stick in Ignis's memory for years to come. The full day and night spent in the council chamber, swallowing down the growing pain of his contractions and praying he'd last til the session ended. The immense relief at knowing that it was finally over, only to be tarnished by the sudden warmth of his waters spilling all down his legs. The sound of it splashing at his feet, barely masked by the lingering applause in the room. The face of his skittish colleague, pale white as he gaped at the spectacle beginning next to him. Ignis's own voice had failed him in the attempts to explain himself, only to be swiftly rescued by Regis's sudden grip at his elbow.
His face flushed with humiliation as the king chuckled to the nearby counselors something about the ruinous effects of pregnancy on the bladder. And yet somehow Ignis found the prospect of having wet himself less embarrassing than what had actually occurred, and he wondered if Counselor Fineas believed the excuse or if he'd simply waited until the coast was clear before sending the gossip train on its merry journey through the entire council.
With a strained sigh, Ignis buried his head in his hands, questioning whether or not he could ever show his face in that chamber again. King Regis softened with sympathy, laying a hand on his back. "I'm sure he'll forget all about it by morning," he assured him. "Now, have you contacted Gladiolus?"
"I haven't…" Ignis shook his head, never lifting his gaze from the floor. "I'll call him on my way home…"
"You can't possibly drive in this condition. I'll have someone take you—"
"Already on it," a familiar voice cut in from the doorway. "He is on his way."
Ignis's head shot up to see who had come. Regis turned, beaming brightly at their guest. "Ah, Clarus. We appreciate your foresight."
"With a grandchild on the line," the man said, stowing his phone back in his pocket. "I won't be taking any chances."
All smiles, he laid a soft peck on the king's cheek before the two commenced with light small talk. Their babbling left Ignis with the space to ponder whether he ought to have at least informed Gladio the moment he was certain that he was in labor. On the one hand, he could say he knew right away when it was clear that the pains were consistent. On the other, he could claim with all accuracy that he was firmly steeped in denial and couldn't truly be sure until the breaking of his waters confirmed it. He couldn't decide which answer was more or less honest, and in the end, he hadn't the energy to care. But he would surely owe Gladio an explanation — and probably a few apologies — when he arrived.
Around and around in circles the older men chatted away, rehashing the events of the day's council session, bubbling delightedly over the new bill, sharing their upcoming holiday plans and making a few new ones together. They talked about the baby, hardly containing their excitement for its arrival. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and Ignis was rather enjoying their company during such an awkward time. The respite did not last, however, as another contraction jarred him back to reality. He bit his lip, barely stifling a groan as the sudden surge of pressure bent his back with a jolt.
The conversation came to an abrupt halt, all eyes now falling uncomfortably on Ignis. Regis quickly stepped in to settle his nerves before the embarrassment could return in full force. "Alright now, deep breaths…"
"He'll be here in under fifteen minutes," Clarus added, looking unusually tense and sheepish. "Hang in there."
The men doted their support on him, but Ignis couldn't bring himself to look either one of them in the eye. The pain climbed just like the rest and he tightened his grip on the arms of his chair. The pressure barreled through him and he held his tongue. Safe as he might have been here, away from the crowd of his peers and with close allies as his only companions, he couldn't fathom what they must have been thinking of him now. It was Regis who first objected when Ignis had refused to take any leave for the impending birth of his first child. And again, the king had insisted that he pace himself and like the stubborn mule that he was, Ignis didn't listen. Even now, as Regis implored him to relax, Ignis was silent, stiff as a board and unyielding as he kept his gaze firmly on the carpet.
Clarus had always kept his distance, but Ignis could nonetheless feel the patriarch's eyes on him whenever they shared a space, and now was no exception. But, he admitted, he sensed no disapproval in the man's demeanor. Concern, perhaps, particularly for the welfare of his first grandchild, but never once did Ignis get the impression that he'd failed to meet his father-in-law's expectations. In fact, like everywhere else in life, he far exceeded them, and Clarus had said as much more times than he could count.
As the contraction wound down again, the king giving him a congratulatory stroke on the back and showering him with praise, Ignis looked up to see Clarus leaning against the desk. His stance was casual, perhaps even serene as he rested with arms and ankles loosely crossed. His expression was no less concerned, but at the same time marked with a familial sort of affection — a father, gazing proudly upon his son.
There was a vibration in his pocket, the telltale sign of his phone ringing. Ignis dug it out of his trousers just in time to see who was calling before he unlocked it. "Gladio?"
"Hey, Iggy," the gruff voice of his partner answered. "How you doin?"
"Still expecting, for now," Ignis shuddered with relief at hearing Gladio speak for the first time all day. "Where are you?"
"I'm almost there. The roads are kind of slick."
Ignis gulped, wary of the delay. "Drive carefully, love… but do hurry."
"I'll be there soon," Gladio promised. "Stay strong for me."
The call was far too short, but Ignis supposed he'd rather have had Gladio concentrate fully on driving, given the inclement weather. He hung up the phone and slumped back in his chair, closing himself off from the growing apprehension he felt knowing just how little time there was left. "Gods, I hope he remembered the bags…"
The king smiled gently. "I'm sure he brought everything you'll need."
Ignis was given no chance to argue as yet another contraction built up seemingly out of nowhere. He dropped his head, again hiding his face from his companions and wrenching back even the softest whimper before it could escape his lips. They were talking to him, softly and calmly. Something about breathing slowly, something about keeping his back straight, bringing his chin up and his shoulders down. Something about how It's just us; you don't have to hide it any longer. Ignis couldn't hear a word of it. The pressure was too great, such that it brought a shrill ringing to his ears and a burn to the corners of his eyes.
Nearly a minute passed before he could lift his head again, dizzy from ever changing pressure behind his temples. Clarus now sat directly in front of him, Regis still hovering at his side. There was no shame, no fear in either of their faces. They seemed quite comfortable. Happy, even, as they smiled in tandem. Jarring though it was, it was a welcome sight for sore eyes. Ignis could only hope they understood the gratitude he felt for them, having come to his rescue and bailed him out of a jam right when he most needed the help. And now, at his weakest and most vulnerable, to handle him with such care that he surely didn't deserve for all the trouble he'd caused. For the moment, he wasn't sure how he could ever thank them enough.
When he could draw breath again, Ignis spoke to them. "I greatly appreciate your help," he met their eyes one at a time. "Both of you. You have my thanks…"
"Would you have expected any less from us?" Regis grinned, with Clarus quick to follow. "It's the least we could do."
Ignis managed a weak nod before adding, "Do send my apologies to Counselor Fineas…"
His request was met with light laughter. "Oh, think nothing of it," the king chortled. "I'm sure he could have used the jostling. It's good for the heart."
"I gave him a terrible fright…"
"My son," Regis gripped his shoulder, grounding him. "You are going to meet your child in a matter of hours. It'll be the most joyous occasion of your life. Focus only on that."
Perhaps that was what made it all seem so easy for them. Regis and Clarus were not panicking, they were not afraid or upset, and they seemed not the least bit flustered even as yet another contraction began dragging Ignis back into the depths. It made perfect sense that they'd simply never lost sight of the end goal. They hadn't forgotten that at the end of all of this, there would be a new child upon which they could heap all their fatherly love and affection. Whether it was because they stood a safe distance from the stressful parts of the journey or because they had a wealth of experience between them, there just wasn't anything that could shake them now. They were too excited to be trepidatious, too in love with the destination to sweat the obstacles along the way.
Ignis endeavored to absorb that optimism. After all, he would claim the same prize when all was said and done. Focus only on that. His baby — their baby — would be arriving soon, entering the world surrounded by the most loving family any infant could ask for. Just as it should be.
It would only be a matter of hours. Ignis could hardly wait.
Don't forget to follow me on Twitter! I go by Ostelan everywhere now, just to make it easier. Happy Father's Day!
Peace and love,
Ostelan