Day 45:
The sleeping arrangements had shuffled at some point before true night fell. Cor refused to leave Reina unsupervised and had taken over the second bed in her room, though it was anyone's guess how much sleep he ever got while he was adamantly watching over her.
It was more than that, though. When she had said she didn't sleep well anymore, it seemed she had meant it. In Caem she had prowled the halls of the creaking house until Cor ordered her back to bed. Later, Ignis had walked by while Cor sat beside her bed, speaking quietly. He had felt a twinge of jealousy at that. But he could not be everything she needed; whatever she believed about her self-sufficiency, it was abundantly clear to everyone else that she needed help more than she ever had in her life. Perhaps more than any one person could ever give. Underneath that blank expression, she was broken. Would she sleep at all if Cor hadn't insisted on it? Doubtful.
With the second bed in Ignis' room freed, Iris had stopped by to give brief consideration to it. In the end she had stayed with Ardyn, for reasons not entirely made clear. None of them were quite sure what to make of the former imperial chancellor after the day they had shared.
In any case, Ignis was given his own room for the night. He slept through until dawn, though indistinct thoughts of trust and companions drifted through his dreams.
He woke at dawn to the sound of quiet voices outside his window. Reina and Ardyn. When he had collected enough of himself to look out the window and put faces to the voices, he saw them standing together: Ardyn leaning over Reina—he might have appeared a towering menace compared to her, if not for the fact that Reina held his face between her hands and the stricken look on his face.
On the usually self-assured and suave chancellor, the expression looked out of place. Reina's back was to Ignis, but he could see enough of Ardyn's face to give him pause. Yesterday they had wondered why he had deigned to tell them where Reina was going. Now Ignis saw the answer on his face. He had made excuses, which, as per his own words, could not be trusted. Had that merely been subterfuge, or did he not even understand himself?
They broke apart. The last look on Ardyn's face before he turned away was dazed and bemused. Reina stood alone, watching the sun rise.
There were no screens in the windows. Perhaps no one in Cartanica wanted to leave their windows open long enough to need them. Whatever the reason, it made for a faster exit.
"Good morning, Your Highness." Ignis slipped out the window and put his feet on the dusty pavement.
She turned, a brief flicker of surprise on her face. "Good morning, Ignis."
"I could not help but observe a portion of your conversation, just now," Ignis said. When she failed to respond, he added, "I was surprised to see the chancellor so out of his element."
"Sometimes we become so entrenched in our own worldview that when someone mentions an alternative, it shakes our beliefs to the core. Most especially when that alternative rings unexpectedly and uncannily true."
"So you know him better than he knows himself," Ignis said.
"Perhaps I do," she said. "If only I knew myself so well."
"Then you have seen, doubtless, what he feels for you."
"Yes."
"Had I not seen it myself, I would have said it was impossible for him to feel any sort of affection."
"I would still say it is. Somehow that word doesn't fit. No word I know of truly describes it."
"Not love?"
"Perhaps," she said. "But only because we use that word to mean so many things. He does not love me the way you do, or Father does, or Noctis does. But perhaps we all have our own peculiar brand of love. And it is difficult to feel seen for the first time in such a long time and not feel something akin to love."
They stood in silence, watching the sun climb higher in the sky for several minutes. Right up until another window opened behind them.
"Your Highness?" Cor hung out the window.
"He only calls me that when I'm in trouble." Reina sighed. "I'm here, Cor."
Ignis smiled and ducked his head. In Noctis' retinue he had often felt the only parent with too many children. Travelling with Reina's entourage was more akin to several parents with vastly different parenting styles following the princess around. And Ardyn. But he was neither here nor there.
"I have an eye on her," Ignis said.
Cor waved vaguely out the window and disappeared back into the room. It was not entirely clear whether that wave meant 'I trust you to keep an eye on her; I'm going back to bed' or 'I don't trust you to keep an eye on her; I'll be there in a moment,' but when he had failed to reappear several minutes later, Ignis assumed it was the former.
"Well," Ignis said, "The day has dawned. What are we to do with it?"
She was silent for longer than the question required. So long, in fact, that he began to fear she would not answer at all. Had she learned nothing from yesterday? Would she attempt to mislead them and leave them behind again?
When she did respond, it was not the answer he had expected.
"I think… we should go home."
"You mean to return to Insomnia?"
She nodded, still staring across the desert rather than at him. "I think…" Her voice shook. She took a deep breath and tried again with moderate improvement. "I think I need to explain what happened in my Dream."
Dumbfounded, Ignis could do little more than stare at her for what felt like several minutes. She turned to look at him. Perhaps to check that he was still alive after that brief heart attack. She seemed to expect a response, so he made an attempt.
"If… that is what you need to do… I have no doubt you will find us all willing to listen."
"It isn't the listening I'm worried about," she said.
"Without judgement," he added.
"I hope you're right."
Ignis reached out to pull her into a hug, giving her the space to pull away if she wished. She didn't. She hugged him back and leaned against his chest while his heart flip-flopped inside.
"Well." Ignis cleared his throat, attempting to make his brain work once more. "Since we have agreed that no further adventures are to occur today, I have only one question."
"And what is that?"
"Would you prefer to make breakfast here or on the boat?"
"Am I being included in this process?" She asked.
The last attempt had gone rather poorly. But something had changed since then. Enough, at least, that she was willing to go home and answer the questions they had been puzzling over for weeks.
"If you would like," he said cautiously.
"The boat, then," she said after a moment. "I'm sick of Niflheim."
Leaving Cartanica early enough to eat breakfast onboard the boat to Lucis proved more easily said than done. Iris woke not long after, but Cor had, in fact, fallen back asleep and Ardyn was nowhere to be found.
In the end, they settled for a hasty pre-breakfast snack to fill the gaps. Once Cor had woken again and Ardyn had reappeared—looking much more his normal self—they packed into Reina's car and headed for the coast.
The car was not, if he was being perfectly honest, designed to seat five people. It was only possible because Reina and Iris took up so little room. It was strange to be chauffeured after so many years of that being his job, but Cor's driving was not nearly as concerning as Noctis'. Nor as concerning as Iris had led him to believe.
It was with a certain relief that they reached the coast once more and drove the car into the hold of the ship.
Cid was his usual, welcoming self upon arrival.
"Took ya'll long enough. Stop for a joy ride along the way?"
"While you were sitting aboard the boat, we were fighting the Messengers," Cor said.
"That's too bad," Cid said. "You never did have my talent."
The hint of an impossible smile showed on Cid's craggy face. Cor gave up the cause and went below deck.
"Thank you for waiting, Cid," Reina said.
By the time Ignis made it below deck after ensuring that everyone's belongings were secured in the car, Reina and Cor were both sitting on one of the low sofas outside the kitchenette. Ignis took quick stock of the contents. He had half expected every cupboard to be filled with thirty-year-old cans, but, in fact, it had been stocked quite recently.
"Tomato and egg stir fry, or fried egg over toast?" Ignis asked. "I believe we could manage a quiche if you were feeling both adventurous and patient."
Ignis' stomach was not.
Cor deferred to Reina, who said, "The stir fry."
"Excellent choice." Ignis set about assembling the necessary parts. "Might I convince you to join me?"
Reina made a face at him. Cor nudged her.
"This is help. Accept it for once," he said in an undertone that, quite possibly, Ignis was not meant to overhear.
Reina climbed to her feet and joined him in the kitchen. Once she had, Cor laid down across the sofa and covered his face with his arm.
"Very well," Reina said. "Where shall I start?"
"Standing precisely where you are." Ignis reached into his pocket, hoping he hadn't lost his tie anywhere between Caem and Niflheim. He hadn't. He straightened it out and tied it over his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Reina asked, nonplussed and… did he detect a hint of amusement?
"It simply will not do for me to carry on as I have been—jealous of a future state of myself who will now never come to be. I shall simply have to experience this for myself." Ignis tested the knot and adjusted the position of his blindfold. "Now then, I believe we have all the necessary ingredients."
"You're going to make a stir-fry with a blindfold on?"
"If Dream-Ignis can make a stir-fry while blind, waking-Ignis can do so with a blindfold on."
Never mind the fact that Dream-Ignis had been given many more opportunities to adjust. He would simply have to make due.
"Now, I seem to recall seeing eggs over here… though of course I didn't, as I am—of course—blind."
The most musical sound met his ears. When had Reina last laughed? He couldn't remember. Not since before the Dream, perhaps. He nearly pulled his blindfold off simply to witness what he had wrought, but he resisted.
He found a cupboard.
"This is a… glass bottle, unless I'm very much mistaken. An odd receptacle to store eggs in, I admit, but it is not my kitchen." He took the bottle. It was, if memory served, vinegar. That was, then, the cupboard with the spices and oil—a fact which he stored away for later reference. "Now I will need a mixing bowl and a frying pan. Dishes were over here… no, that is a stove, I fear I have gotten turned around. Over… here. Ah. Yes." He set a tall glass on the counter next to the vinegar. "And pans were beneath the stove."
It was a miracle he had yet to run into Reina. It was not, however, for lack of trying. He could hear her moving around whenever he spun around with arms outstretched, and occasionally he heard what he hoped was a poorly suppressed laugh.
"Here we are. Some water in this pan, and it goes on the stove over… here… Where is the burner? Ah yes. And the controls would be…"
"That's a plastic mixing bowl!"
"Is it?" He had been wondering how far she would let him go with this. It had quickly become a game of chicken with a plastic bowl on a stove. Needless to say, Ignis had won.
"Well, you can't expect me to know these things. I am blind. Now—" He twisted the knob on the stove.
Reina grabbed his hand, laughing, and turned it back. "Stop it! You're going to make a mess of Father's boat. Here. This is a pan. A metal pan."
Ignis groped around the stove to find it. He picked up his plastic mixing bowl and, holding pan in hand, poured the water on Reina.
"Ignis!"
"Apologies, Your Highness. I had only meant to transfer the water to this metal pan. But, as you know, I am blind. I must have misjudged the location."
"Well, it's a good thing you're blind. Otherwise it would be highly inappropriate for me to remove my top in front of you."
"You are—What—?" Ignis pushed the blindfold up to his forehead, face hot.
Reina stood by the sink, patting her dripping clothes with a kitchen towel. "Hm. Not so blind after all."
He would not, it seemed, need the stove at all. His face was quite hot enough to fry eggs.
"Your Highness—I only meant—"
Reina threw a cup of water at him. It sizzled when it struck his face.
"There," she said. "Now we're even."
In the lounge across from the kitchenette, the sofa creaked. "I was going to catch up on some sleep," Cor said.
Reina gave Ignis a look which said, quite clearly: Oops.
"Sorry, Cor!" She called out.
"Apologies," Ignis said. "The princess and I were merely making breakfast."
Cor stopped outside the kitchen, taking in its dripping wet occupants, the plastic mixing bowl on the stove, and the bottle of vinegar next to a tall glass.
"I don't know much about cooking," Cor said. "But this doesn't look like it."
"We had a disagreement about where the water belonged," Reina said.
"Perhaps we should do the rest without the blindfold," Ignis said.
"Maybe."
Cor turned and walked away, shaking his head. "Whatever comes out of this kitchen I don't want any part of."
Miraculously, it was much easier to cook without a tie across his eyes. It was rather more difficult to find excuses to, say, dump a cup of flour on Reina, but Ignis managed nevertheless. By the time breakfast was complete, it had taken fully twice the time it should have and both he and Reina looked rather like they had been in a very rambunctious secondary school cafeteria when the first piece of egg was thrown. The stir-fry, however, was delicious.
Even Cor ate two plates full.
