Chapter 5
The morning was dreary.
Ignis hovered over the coffee machine, and was so lost up in his head that he hadn't even started breakfast by the time Gladio awoke and came over to him.
Couldn't stop thinking about Fleuret.
Gladio leaned over him, and said, huskily, "I hope you don't mind; I took the liberty of telling Noct yesterday that you wanted to explore alone for a while. Hopefully he'll take the hint."
Couldn't even worry about that, the way he was fretting.
He did ask, softly, "Was he angry?"
"Nah. Well, maybe a little. Looked kinda pissy, but doesn't he always?"
Ignis wanted to say, 'Perhaps we should all go home.'
Fleuret was far too near, and it would have been considerably safer for Noctis had they all returned to Insomnia immediately. But Noctis would never, because to do so would have been retreating, and stubborn Noctis thought he should have been able to do what he wanted, where he wanted, when he wanted, with absolutely no consequences.
Even if Ignis had told Noctis that Fleuret was in town, Noctis would have dug his heels in and refused to go back.
And maybe Noctis was a little angry, because when he woke up an hour or so later, he just sat in bed and played on his phone, not coming over to sit beside Ignis as he had the days prior. Later on, Noctis went out into the city on his own without saying a single word to anyone else, and Ignis watched the door long after he was gone.
More guilt. Couldn't escape it on any end, it seemed.
Gladio saw Ignis' gaze, and assured, "Don't worry. He'll calm down. Just give him a few days. You goin' off alone again today? How about we go have lunch together?"
Ignis nodded, and Prompto darted off shortly after, trying to hunt Noctis down, as Gladio and Ignis found a nearby brunch spot. And Ignis had absolutely every intention of telling Gladio what he had discovered, meant to tell Gladio that he had come across Fleuret so that Gladio would be aware and alert, and yet...
Every time Ignis opened his mouth and meant to address it, he lost his voice.
Couldn't explain why at all.
Somehow, perhaps, Ignis felt that Fleuret was his problem.
He found himself wandering alone again after lunch, and maybe every time he lifted his head, he hoped he would spy Fleuret, although he couldn't imagine what he would possibly say to the man. Could never have explained to him why Ignis had rejected him without blowing cover, but wished he could have.
Hours later, as the sun was hanging low, Ignis found himself sitting outside a coffee shop in the terrace, staring off over the sea as the warm wind blew.
He was out in space, until a conversation of two women at the table next to him caught his ear.
"—High Commander Fleuret."
Ignis perked up over his coffee, turned his head ever so slightly, and listened. He wasn't an eavesdropper typically, tried not to be too nosy, but Fleuret weighed heavily on his mind.
"I know! I love when he comes back to town. He's so handsome."
Ignis rested his chin in his palm and watched the water, and felt melancholy.
"He is nice to look at. Scary, though."
"Nah. I don't think so."
"Pfft—why don't you go talk to him, then? Since you think he's so handsome. It would be an interesting date."
A laugh, low and carefree, as Ignis listened in.
"I'm not his type."
"Well, how do you know? I've never even seen him talking to anyone."
"You didn't know? Fleuret's not into women."
"—o-oh!"
Just like that, Ignis perked up.
You don't say, eh? High Commander Fleuret, not into women? A shock, certainly.
Ignis sat up a little straighter, felt a little anxious, a little jittery, and took a swig of his coffee.
The conversation carried on.
"No, I didn't know! I had no idea! Wow. Are you sure?"
"Totally sure. I got a friend in Gralea. It's big news over there, apparently. I feel so bad for him, though. He's always alone. The papers in Gralea always make such a big deal out of it that he never has a partner."
"Well—he is kinda scary. That arm, and all."
"I figure that's why. Poor guy. You know, I saw him staring up at the church a few weeks ago. He looked so sad. His sister is getting married here next year, did you know? Must be hard, her getting married and he's all by himself."
A sinking of Ignis' heart.
Looking back on it, really, what were the chances of Fleuret remembering Ignis of all people unless there had been some kind of interest? Fleuret didn't truly seem like the kind of man that would just stop and offer assistance to anyone, not unless he was interested in something in return.
Blast.
Seemed so obvious now, with this new knowledge, that Fleuret had been, dare he say, attempting to flirt with him, and he had been too dumb to notice. He had assumed those insults had been Fleuret's gruff way of making a friend, but apparently it had been more like a very aggressive form of courting.
Great.
Ignis watched the sun lowering down across the sea, and shook his head to himself.
Well, why bother pondering over it? He had already well established that Fleuret was quite out of bounds, quite off limits, if only for Noctis' sake. If he couldn't walk about with Fleuret for sightseeing purposes, then naturally it was extremely improper to even think about letting himself be taken on a date.
Whatever Ignis felt for Fleuret, whatever fear he had, whatever he thought about Fleuret's reputation, there was no denying the fact that, in that moment, Ignis could say he felt rather sort of bad for him.
All alone like that, always.
Ignis knew that feeling well. Surrounded by people on all sides and yet still alone, because Noctis was the only one he had ever wanted and Noctis would never reciprocate. How isolated the world could feel, when the person you wanted didn't know you existed. Couldn't imagine being a man of such high profile as Fleuret, and then to have that loneliness amplified tenfold because the tabloids were always looking for a story.
...and now he just felt awful, he truly did. The guilt from the night before exacerbated, and Ignis ran a hand over the bridge of his nose before finishing off his coffee and looking around.
What to do.
He wasn't entirely certain that he could survive three weeks in Altissia like this, stomach twisting and guilt pulsing, walking around and praying he wouldn't run into Fleuret because if he did then he could very well sink down into the sea and die in shame.
Up until Ignis had panicked, Fleuret hadn't made a single violent movement, had had no ulterior motives from the look of him, hadn't been seriously aggressive, and hadn't given Ignis any reason to think that he had been dangerous.
Just a normal if not sarcastic man, attempting to make conversation.
A normal man?
Hardly. A man that led the Imperial Army into Lucian lands, a man that rarely backed off unless forced to, a man that had a reputation for striking down his own men if they retreated without orders, a man who had led the unsuccessful assault on Insomnia three years ago, marching right up to their front door with absolutely no fear. A man who would cut down anyone beneath him if they no longer served him any purpose.
And yet a man that had guided lost Ignis through the city on his own time, and then had sat down in a library to make small talk.
Ignis' head was a mess, and that was why he stood up then, looked about, and began marching off in search of Fleuret.
Needed to find him, urgently, if only so that Ignis could stand before him and attempt to offer some sort of apology without too detailed an explanation. Fleuret must have already been catching on that Ignis was Lucian; if nothing else, Ignis could play that card and say he had retreated because he felt the situation inappropriate during a temporary ceasefire.
Anything at all, because he couldn't stomach the way that short camaraderie had ended.
Dangerous or no, Fleuret seemed to be on vacation, out of uniform, and a general only followed orders at the end of the day. There was no war at this moment—Fleuret wasn't a soldier today, in the more basic sense.
Ignis didn't find Fleuret that day.
Nor the next.
He scoured the city up and down for two more days, map forlorn and utterly and completely lost, walking down every street he possibly could until his feet were sore and hunger and thirst were uncomfortable. Only at nightfall did Ignis admit defeat and retreat, only to repeat the process the next day.
Hunting down Fleuret was his only goal then, because it was absolutely imperative to his mental wellbeing.
It was the third morning when he finally found Fleuret.
Had set out earlier that day than the others, to give himself more time, and hadn't been disappointed. Went out to the piers this time, where the little boats and gondolas roamed, and when he came to the great waterfalls in the distance, crashing down from the rocks above, he found there what he sought.
Back to him, arms folded on the railing, head rested down and staring rather intently at the water, was Fleuret. The rising sun lit up his pale blond hair white, and he seemed to be quite out in space. Coat and gloves in place, as usual, and Ignis knew then that it was to cover his arm, because there were just a few people out there like Ignis who didn't recognize the man at first and Fleuret was trying to keep it that way.
It struck Ignis then, how alone Fleuret was.
So many people walking about, bustling, and yet no one was within close range of Fleuret, because most everyone here knew who he was and avoided him for it.
Ignis looked around, just to make sure that Gladio or Noct hadn't tailed him, and he tried to gather his courage. Only a man, he had to keep telling himself, and with that thought in mind, Ignis took that first step forward, pulling out his phone and feeling jittery.
Had no earthly clue what he was even going to say, and tried not to think about it at all because if he did he would make a complete imbecile of himself.
Fleuret, in his own world, didn't even hear him coming, didn't notice him until Ignis was right beside of him, and didn't even look up at all until Ignis had held out his phone and said, eagerly, "Excuse me, sir, would you mind taking a picture for me?"
A twitch of annoyance in Fleuret's brow, and he glanced testily over.
Never got to see how truly friendly Fleuret was to tourists, then, because before he had found his voice he had realized who was standing beside of him, and his mouth quickly clamped shut.
A long stare, as Fleuret pulled himself up straight, and Ignis was still holding out his phone, smiling away. Hoped he was successfully smiling, anyway, because he actually felt rather ill and it could very well have been a grimace there upon his face.
A long, intense stare.
Thought that maybe Fleuret's lips had twitched, just a bit, that his face had lost its sharpness, and yet his voice was still cold and aloof when he drawled, "I thought I told you to lay out a line. I cannot save you every time you get lost within this city."
Well, well! That hadn't been nearly as hard as Ignis had imagined.
Fleuret really must have been lonely, to forgive Ignis' prior rudeness so easily and to so quickly engage in verbal barbs once more.
Relief.
Ignis just kept on smiling, and raised his phone a bit in the air in show.
"Well? Would you mind?"
A raised brow of loftiness, a bit of a sneer, and then Fleuret murmured, "I dare say this is not worth my precious time."
Indeed.
Undaunted, Ignis merely snorted, tucked his phone back in his pocket, put his hand up to his chin as if in thought, and then finally said, with a dramatic snap of his fingers, "Well, then. How about a nice walk around? There was this kind man, you see, that had offered to show me around the city. I've been looking for him for three days. Don't suppose you know where he went?"
Couldn't quite tell yet what mood Fleuret was in, because his face always looked so bored and irritated and tense.
Must have been fairly decent, though, because he was playing along rather than tossing Ignis down into the bay.
"I'm not certain. Tell me, does his reputation precede him?"
"Oh, yes, quite!"
"Why look for him then? Aren't you frightened?"
A more serious tone, and a rather frustrated look. Fleuret had been rejected so many times, surely, that he had become rather jaded. Used to people running away from him. It had to have been a bit odd to him, to have someone actually seek him out, and Ignis could sense somehow how anxious Fleuret was, in his stance. The way he tucked his hands into his pockets and kept his chin high, shifting his weight from time to time.
Ready to stalk off at a moment's notice.
And it was incredibly foolish, but suddenly Ignis just wanted Fleuret to smile then, as he had for that one memorable moment before Ignis had known who he was.
Instead of explaining to Fleuret why Ignis had sent him off, instead of setting his foot down and apologizing and getting it off his chest and moving on, instead of finding that little bit of closure he had sought, Ignis found himself switching lanes.
Fleuret had smiled, once, and at him, of all people.
Ignis came up with a hundred excuses then in his head about what he was about to do, told himself that if he was distracting Fleuret, after all, then Fleuret would have less of a chance of coming across Noctis and noticing him.
Yes, yes, that was it.
If Ignis took up Fleuret's time, then Fleuret would never realize Noctis was there at all.
Right.
Ignis tilted his head, tapped his foot a bit thoughtfully, and then he finally glanced up at Fleuret and said, honestly, "A bit, yes. But I was looking through this history book once long ago, you see, and I saw these awful looking ruins. I thought to myself, 'who would ever want to go see these, the way they look?' And as I read more, I realized that I already had visited them. I just didn't recognize them, because the photo looked so dreadful you see, and the ruins I saw were quite beautiful. It was the lighting or the angle or some such, I suppose, but they didn't look anything alike. And it occurred to me that if I had merely gone with what I saw in that book, I would have missed out on something lovely."
Swore that Fleuret's face had lost a bit of its tension, then, and he was glad for it.
Ignis felt himself smiling quite brightly as he summed up, "So, I suppose what I'm saying is that... No doubt that reputations exist for a reason, but it would be rather remiss of me to not try things out for myself and see if what really is and what's talked about are one and the same. Just because something is written in a book, after all, doesn't necessarily make it waterproof."
A short silence, as Fleuret's eyes raked his face in a rather unnerving manner, but Ignis held his ground, refusing to look away, because he didn't want Fleuret to think he was scared of him.
Even if he absolutely was.
The most powerful military commander in the world, standing right in front of him.
Then, mercifully, there was a soft snort, and Fleuret had lifted up his chin, gave a glance about, and then finally said, so coolly, "Well, then. I suppose I shall help you look for that fellow. Since I don't have anything better to do, that is, and because it's my duty to protect the city from you."
Ignis bristled up in excitement, and he was so happy then, for some reason, that he thrust out his hand.
"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Ignis."
A long hard look at the offered hand, but Fleuret finally reached forward, the smallest of smiles on his face, and uttered, "Ravus."
Ravus. Lovely name. Fit for a king, certainly.
A quirked brow then, and Fleuret—Ravus— had repeated, mostly to himself, "Ignis. Is there a last name to that?"
A squirm of anxiety, not because Ignis was known to the world, because he wasn't, but just because his name sounded quite Lucian. Couldn't lie, though, not to that man. Ravus was probably already aware of his nationality.
So Ignis merely offered, "Scientia. Ignis Scientia."
The other brow quirked then, and Ignis knew he had been had.
"Indeed. Well, I'm Nox Fleuret in truth, if you must know."
Oh. Well. Off on the right foot, then.
Ravus suddenly swept his right arm into the air, pointing to the distant coliseum, and asked, "Have you been there yet?"
Ignis shook his head.
"Well, then. If you didn't have any plans, perhaps you would like a tour."
Ignis found himself throwing out a hip a bit then, and maybe his stance was a bit airy and flirtatious when he peered up at Ravus through his lashes and replied, "A personal tour from his Majesty himself. Who would be crazy enough to ever say 'no' to that? Onward!"
Ravus' look was strange then, almost a bit breathless, and Ignis didn't know if it was because Ignis was acknowledging Ravus as the king of Tenebrae rather than a High Commander or because Ignis was making light of anyone ever rejecting Ravus in the first place.
Even though he had, too, at first.
So Ravus just tilted his head a bit, and then he broke his eyes from Ignis, looked straight forward, and lifted his foot into the air. Just like that, they were walking, Ignis a pace behind Ravus at his side. As if nothing awkward had ever occurred between them.
Every time Ignis looked at something and wished for an explanation, he would open his mouth and say, "Highness, what's that?"
Could have sworn that every time, Ravus' shoulders squared and his chest puffed out a bit.
Ignis rather enjoyed the effect he was having. He wasn't exactly an expert on flirting, no, but he knew how to appeal to a hyper-masculine male, knew how to push their buttons and turn them on and off, knew how to wrap them around his finger, knew how to boost their ego and heighten their confidence.
Thank you, Gladio. Knew the big guy would come in handy one day.
And Ravus would just bristle out to his full size, follow Ignis' gaze, and begin a lecture on the history of whatever Ignis had been interested in. Seemed to know everything, Ravus, and Ignis made a point of acknowledging it.
With a coy glance over, as they neared the coliseum, Ignis asked, "Is it necessary for his Highness to know a great deal of history, or is it something rather enjoyed?"
Ravus stared over at him, almost all of that tension and hardness gone from his face, and replied, in a softer voice, "Both, luckily."
The coliseum was beautiful, yes, but Ignis found his attention only half on it when they finally reached it, for by then Ravus had begun speaking without being asked to, making his own conversation, and more importantly those mismatched eyes were always upon Ignis.
Danger had been entirely forgotten, when Ravus seemed so perfectly agreeable and compliant. Seeing a war-dog, as it was, playing in the park. Dangerous as ever, but hard not to want to pet it. In this case, Ignis being catty and somewhat flirtatious was his version of petting, and he was very much hoping he wouldn't get bitten.
...yet.
If Noctis would never feel that way, then Ignis saw no harm, and it was indeed best to keep Ravus very distracted for the next three weeks, was it not? Ignis could confidently say that he was, technically, doing his job of protecting Noctis by offering himself as bait to take Ravus' gaze away.
Sure.
With enough twists and turns, Ignis could very well have actually sold it.
When Ignis had had his fill of the coliseum, Ravus turned to him and asked, hands tucked behind his back, "Well. It's early yet. What else would you like to see today?"
Ignis stared up at Ravus, bit his bottom lip in thought, and then gathered up the nerve to be a bit forward. No point in wasting time, really. The ceasefire would end soon, and Ravus would be his enemy again. There was no hope for any sort of relationship between them, and all Ignis could really hope for was a fling. A fling that was on borrowed time, and so it was imperative to get the ball rolling.
So he opened his mouth, then, and kept his voice a low murmur when he asked, "And how long does his Highness have with me today?"
A rather quick reply, as if Ravus were eager, despite his stoic face.
"All day, as a matter of fact."
Too easy—Gladio had served Ignis well, very well indeed. Years of wrapping Gladio around his pinkie had well paid off.
Ignis smiled then, cheerfully, and supplied, "Well, it would please me greatly if your Majesty would join me for a coffee. That is, of course, if you should feel so inclined."
And Ignis was fairly certain that Ravus was quite inclined, for he merely lifted up his chin, swallowed, and then said, a bit commandingly, "Follow me, then. I know a place."
Excellent.
Ignis followed where Ravus led, and when they reached the pretty little shop, wrought iron chairs and tables outside in the shade of an awning, the breeze from the sea blowing all about, Ignis was feeling about as confident as Ravus looked. People stared at them when they approached the café, no doubt because Ravus was someone they wished to avoid, but Ignis couldn't say he was very bothered; Noctis, after all, got his fair share of stares. Used to it by now.
The only thing that had truly surprised Ignis, but pleasantly so, was when Ravus stopped at the table he wanted, turned to Ignis, and then promptly pulled out a chair.
Well, well, well. A gentleman after all, underneath that gruff, harsh exterior.
Ignis just flashed his most amicable smile and sat without prompting, crossing his legs at once and placing intertwined hands upon his knee when Ravus sat, and he was quick to lean forward, drop his head and shoulders, and croon, "It's lovely here! Your Majesty has excellent taste. At least in scenery. I admit, though, I'm a bit hard to please when it comes to coffee. Fair warning."
Ravus stared at him, as if somehow dumbfounded, and then he finally leaned forward himself, and stated, rather blandly, "This is somehow the most formal and yet most casual anyone has ever spoken to me, and I find myself quite confused."
Ignis just beamed, and hoped to the gods that he was coming off as charming and flirtatious rather than creepy and intense.
...maybe it would be best to tone it down a bit.
Easier to do, anyway, now that Ravus looked calmer. Easier to be tranquil and graceful when Ravus didn't look like someone had just spilled something on him.
At his smile, Ravus just shook his head, and uttered again, "I find myself quite confused by you, indeed, Ignis Scientia."
"A very mutual feeling, Sire."
Another raking up and down of Ravus' intense eyes, and then, finally, Ravus said what Ignis had wanted to hear.
"Such formality is unnecessary. Please, call me Ravus. In the Empire, Ignis, there is no king. I'm sure that's an adjustment for you."
Ignis leaned back a bit, and couldn't help but wince.
Knew it.
So Ignis just scoffed, uncrossed his legs, scooted up to the table to grab the menu in anxiety, and somehow found his voice long enough to mutter, lowly, "Ah. I've been had, have I?"
"Long ago," came the droll reply.
Ignis dared a glance up, tried to gauge Ravus' face, couldn't, and asked, a bit more nervously, "Is that a particular problem?"
Ravus might have smirked then, at the tables being turned, but perhaps he pitied Ignis' clear anxiety, or perhaps Ravus was so lonely at this point that he didn't even care that Ignis was Lucian. Either way, Ravus finally drolled, perhaps too eagerly, "No problem at all. Your reputation merely precedes you."
A long stare between them, and somehow, some way, the absurdity of the entire situation struck Ignis like lightning. The Crown Prince of Lucis' royal advisor, sitting down for coffee with the Imperial High Commander during a ceasefire. Sworn enemies, now on a first name basis and suddenly walking buddies. Absolutely unbelievable.
He just couldn't help it then :
Ignis started laughing.
Couldn't stop, either, as his quiet giggling turned into flown-blown laughter, and Ravus just straightened up and stared at him as if he had fallen out of the sky. Couldn't stop laughing, and had to remove his glasses and duck his head down into his folded arms when he started crying. Hadn't laughed in so long, and had certainly never laughed like this. Everything had been so tense, so dangerous, and so there was never time for laughter.
Ignis never laughed, because he was never truly content.
Noctis never looked at him.
Minutes that he sat there, laughing helplessly, and Ravus waited patiently for him to come back down to earth. When Ignis did, chest aching and wiping his eyes, all he could do was glance up at Ravus, and say, thinly, "I'm sorry! It's just so absurd! All I wanted to do was sightsee and I somehow find myself with you!"
Another helpless giggle.
Ravus lifted up a brow, and was quick to toss out, "You're laughing. All of Altissia's tourism industry is in danger because of you, and you're laughing."
Ravus Nox Fleuret. Imperial High Commander. Making jokes.
Astrals help him.
Ignis started laughing again, because it felt so bloody good to do so, go figure, and yet when he looked up that second time, ribs sore and so breathless, he was rewarded—Ravus was smiling again, as he had before Ignis had known who he was.
Steadily, Ignis calmed down, screwed his head back on, dried his eyes, and put his glasses back on. Ravus stared away at him, serenely. Ignis felt a bit subdued then, felt calm and content under Ravus' gaze.
How many people could ever say that those eyes had made them feel that way?
Coffee was finally ordered, and when Ignis was picking at it, a bit snobbily despite his efforts, Ravus finally spoke up.
"So, Ignis. Where are you from, truly? Lestallum?"
Well. He'd already been caught. No point in lying.
He gazed calmly at Ravus through his lashes, and said, gently, "Insomnia."
Ravus raised a brow and gave a noise of interest.
"Royal city? I should like to see it. I hear it's quite beautiful at night. Ah... I see now why you're so used to having a king."
Hm. Not the reaction Ignis had expected, given that Ravus had been very determined to conquer Insomnia hardly three years prior.
Peace-time Ravus truly was different.
Ignis smiled, resting his chin in his palm and murmuring then, over the breeze of the sea, "It seems that this ceasefire is being kind to the both of us."
Ravus turned his eyes out to the water, hair whipping about, and Ignis thought his voice was a bit sad when he replied, "Yes. Would that it would last forever."
Another comment he hadn't expected. Niflheim was insatiable, it seemed, seemed to love war, seemed to love conquering, and Ignis had always assumed its generals were equally intent on warmongering. Ravus in particular, record that he had with so many lands beneath his belt.
But Ravus looked so sad then.
Felt a bit of melancholy, and Ignis tried his luck with a tentative, "I don't suppose...that I can get my hopes up, can I? I've dreamt of nothing else for years but the war ending."
Ravus just inhaled, turned his eyes back to Ignis, and said, softly, "It's best to keep your hopes low. That way you won't be disappointed by anything."
Ignis thought that maybe he felt his face falling. And not just for the lack of peace, but also because that must have been how Ravus lived his life; always expecting the worst so that he wouldn't get hurt. Expecting nothing positive.
Ravus saw his look, perhaps, and maybe he tried to lift Ignis' spirits then, because suddenly he had leaned forward and asked, "Well? Has my choice satisfied your picky taste in coffee?"
Hadn't even tried it yet.
And for a minute there, Ignis was so disheartened that he really didn't even want to.
Ravus' forced smile, however, led him to snort, and then finally lift the mug up to his lips.
Ravus watched a bit intently as he sipped, and Ignis made sure to draw it out, a bit fussily, and after a long minute, he finally looked at Ravus and said, coolly, "It'll do, I suppose. Beggars can't be choosers."
Ravus lifted up his brow, sat back, and gave a deep 'hm'.
"And here I was thinking you were easy to please. What with how excited you get over a church."
Ignis smiled, feeling a bit of that sadness vanish, and he was quick to say, "Oh, I am. It's only coffee that I'm choosy with. Clearly I'm not choosy about my company, for I'll pick up any riffraff from the street."
Ravus scoffed, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and stared Ignis down.
Ignis rather enjoyed it.
Two things he loved at the same table; coffee and powerful men.
They bantered for a while, sniped and teased, and then they walked aimlessly about a bit more until the sun was setting. A wonderful day that had to end, but Ignis was hoping to have another one just like it tomorrow. And the day after. Ravus must have been thinking the same, for his mood never sank as he escorted Ignis back to the hotel. The goodbye this time was less reluctant, and it was obvious there on Ravus' face that he was feeling happy, though he never would have said it aloud.
Ravus bowed his head, respectfully, and Ignis gave Ravus a full bow in turn because Ravus was, at the end of all things, a king. Ravus gave the quickest of smiles, quickly forced down, and then took a step back.
Ignis looked handsome Ravus up and down, and asked, "Shall his Majesty have a care to protect the city tomorrow?"
"It is my duty," Ravus affirmed, and Ignis was the one to smile.
There it was, then.
As always, Ignis saw no point in wasting time, and reached into his breast pocket, pulling out pen and notepad. He quickly scribbled his number down, folded the paper neatly, and made a bit of a show of it by flamboyantly thrusting his hand out and holding the paper aloft.
A droll lidding of Ravus' eyes, a false grimace, and Ravus pretended to be very put upon when he sighed heavily and reached out to take the offered paper.
"Alas, it is a heavy burden, to do one's duty," Ravus droned, as he tucked the paper in his pocket carefully.
"Yet another long-suffering king of old," Ignis teased, as he backed up to the door.
If Ravus was doing his duty to protect Altissia from Ignis, then Ignis was also just doing his duty to protect Noctis from Ravus.
Sounded good on paper.
They stared each other down for a moment, before Ravus lifted his chin and said, in a more sincere voice, "Goodnight. I regret to say I enjoyed your company."
"Not as much as I regret enjoying yours," Ignis replied, just as sincerely.
A twinge of nervousness, a twist of his stomach, a little rush of adrenaline, when Ravus smiled at him again all of a sudden.
A turn of his heel, a flutter of his coat, and Ravus was suddenly gone, Ignis' phone number now the property of the world's most dangerous general.
How utterly bizarre it would feel when the ceasefire ended and war resumed, and Ignis could pull out his phone and say to himself, 'I have the Imperial High Commander's phone number.'
Treason at some level, perhaps, to those less forgiving members of council.
Ah. Ignis was never on anyone's radar, and was unlikely to ever have been considered a threat, and so such a thing gave him no worry. To be accused of false treason, first someone would need to remember that Ignis existed.
When Ignis came into the hotel, he must have had a spring in his step, must have had his chin held high, must have looked content, for it was Prompto who glanced over at him and snorted, "You look happy."
Did he?
Gladio teased, "Having fun without us, huh?"
Ignis waved a hand in the air and scoffed, "I don't know what you mean."
Noctis was quiet, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at Ignis from over his phone. Pursed lips, a low brow, a look of something that could have been annoyance.
In the end, Noctis didn't say a word, and Ignis hummed to himself as he took a shower.
The first time in years that Ignis had felt simple contentment.
Hadn't thought it was possible without Noctis, but it was his foreign enemy that brought it out. The world truly was a strange place.
Noctis glanced at Ignis all night, and that was the first time that Ignis just didn't care to worry about it, because someone else was suddenly on his mind.
The city of romance was finally, to Ignis, just that.
He waited for dawn.