Chapter 19
The Devil's Call
Summer was on high.
Monica was restless, asking Titus, every few weeks, if he had set a date.
No, he hadn't, because Regis wanted to officiate and so, really, it was Regis who had to set the date, and Titus was reluctant to nag him too much lest the old man tease him about how desperate he was.
Time was precious, however, when Titus didn't yet know how much time this city had left, and he needed legally binding paperwork up his sleeve in the event something went wrong and Ignis discovered something unpleasant. Which was unlikely, but Titus was prepared for every scenario.
They were gathered atop the Citadel one muggy night in June, to celebrate the summer solstice.
When the fireworks went off, that time was quite a lot cheerier than the New Year prior, for Cor lifted his glass in Titus' direction and they actually made and held eye contact for just a moment there, as if nothing had ever happened.
Ignis was lit up as much as the moon Titus thought of him as, and Regis leered away at Titus and asked them, in passing, if they had found their suits yet. No, because the old bastard hadn't yet given him a timeframe!
Titus couldn't complain too much, all that aside, because so far everything seemed well on track.
Until, that was, an ember from a firework drifted down. Why it caught his eye he couldn't say. Perhaps because it stayed bright long after the other embers had burned out, and then it got caught on the humid breeze and drifted horizontally towards the aquarium. Titus followed it with his gaze, and would never know why.
Wished he hadn't.
From the dark shadows beneath the staircase, there was a very short flash of yellow eyes. Gone as quickly as they had come.
The hairs on Titus' body stood on end, every last one of them, and Titus stared at the shadows in horror before he swallowed and found his feet. He leaned in to Ignis, who was chattering with Monica, and uttered, "I'll be back in a moment."
Ignis waved him thoughtlessly off, and Titus walked back inside the Citadel. He stepped into the elevator, took it down several floors, and walked into his own office. An awful second of gathering himself, and then Titus hissed, to thin air, "Show yourself."
A stir of shadows, as Ardyn obediently materialized.
Every muscle in Titus' body stiffened, every sense heightened, as Ardyn swaggered over to him, sneer firmly in place.
Ardyn looked Titus up and down, leering away, and then he bowed mockingly at the waist and crooned, "Congratulations, High Commander, on your upcoming nuptials."
An awful surge of adrenaline, a rush of something close to fear.
Ardyn sensed it, as he sensed everything, and straightened up to add, in a rumble, "Did you really think I didn't know?"
No—had always known that Ardyn of course knew everything. Somehow... Titus had just rather buried his head in the sand, because he was trying so hard to live in his fantasy land.
Ardyn's awful smile.
As the daemon stared him down, all Titus could think of to do, absurdly, was to pull himself to his full height, brace his legs, and command, with every bit of steel he possessed, "You're not to go near him. This is my personal project. Unlinked to my duty. He has nothing to do with this."
Ardyn looked a bit taken aback at Titus' gall, and then started laughing.
Titus held strong, because he just didn't know what else to do. His game, not Ignis', and dread now crept up because he had always known that Ardyn taking interest was a possibility, but had let his own selfishness overtake Ignis' safety. Ardyn noticed now, noticed hard, and likely wouldn't back off. Ardyn liked to play games, and Titus having a vetted interest in Ignis was as good a reason to lift his hand as any. The ancient creep had nothing else to do to occupy his time, apparently.
And very likely, Ardyn had a greater interest in Ignis than what Titus held in his hands.
Sure enough, Ardyn waved an airy hand far too close to Titus' face, and said, "He has everything to do with this. He plays a far greater role in this prophecy than you do."
A lurch of Titus' heart, long buried panic and fear.
Had always suspected, somehow, that Regis had been saving Ignis for something, and worried as to what end. Regis may have gladly sacrificed the world for his son, but Titus wouldn't let Ignis be just another one. Regis swearing Ignis to Noctis so helplessly young—had to mean something.
Ardyn began to circle Titus like the shark he was, and asked, "You said to me that this wasn't serious. I'm beginning to feel that you may have lied just a bit. I wonder... What else will you lie to me about?"
Helpless and on the spot, Titus' combative stance lowered, just a bit, because Ardyn truly could make or break Titus with one swipe of his paw. Titus only wanted to go home, always had, and wanted to take Ignis with him, and Ardyn had insinuated previously that that would be possible if Titus performed his tasks without faltering.
He was doing so; why was Ardyn calling?
"You said you wouldn't deny me a personal life. I haven't wavered. Neither have I faltered nor bent. Ever have I done as you have demanded, with no question. Long have I subjugated myself, for the sake of my home, and never have I taken on more than I knew I could clearheadedly handle. I have made no transgression, for I have accounted for very possible outcome. I do not allow myself the possibility of failure. So I must ask, then : what do you want?"
His voice wasn't as hard then as he would have liked, because he wasn't married yet, nothing was set in stone, and Ardyn could cause so much havoc with such little effort.
Ardyn continued to circle him, as Titus stared ahead at the wall, and after a moment Ardyn offered, "I am beginning to grow concerned. Not of you upholding your end, no, but of your willingness to allow him to follow the King out into the world when the time comes. I do truly believe that the steadfast Captain means it when he says he takes on no task without planning for every outcome, but I also have personal experience with how very dangerous it is for a man to fall in love. It changes everything, but only those outside can see it. I begin to believe you may attempt to keep him from fulfilling his calling."
Titus caught Ardyn's eye then, every time Ardyn walked in front of him, and finally found the nerve to ask, "What is his calling?"
As if Ardyn would be truthful.
As he expected, Ardyn just leered away, ever circling, and finally crooned, "I shouldn't say. You wouldn't like it. No need to clutter your head with more nonsense. It seems barely able to function as it is these days."
Oh, how those words hurt, how terrifying they were to hear, thinking that Ignis was meant as little more than some sacrificial lamb, some royal cannon fodder, and there was no way to ever know because Ardyn mixed up truth and lies so masterfully that telling one from the other was impossible.
Titus was in over his head, he knew it, always had, and so could only carry on.
Ardyn fell still before him, never blinking, and said, oh so smarmily, "That you ask what is calling is at all is concerning to me. But, for now... You have done everything asked of you with no falter, as you say, and so I'll allow you to carry on. I shall ask once more for a wedding invitation."
Bracing up, Titus whispered, "I shall once more deny it."
Ardyn snorted, condescendingly rolled his eyes, and then waved a hand in the air.
"Ah! You're impossible. Very well. Have your fun, High Commander, and I'll have mine. But work fast. I sense the time is quickly approaching. Have all of your loose ends tied up as soon as possible."
Titus meant to ask 'how quickly?' but it was too late, for Ardyn vanished.
What a creep.
Titus stood there for a while after Ardyn had gone, and shuddered inwardly over Ardyn's words, because Ardyn having 'fun' was the last thing Titus ever wanted.
With a restless mind and racing heart, Titus returned to the top of the Citadel, where Ignis and Monica were still chattering away so happily, so obliviously, and when Titus came back over, Monica glanced up over Ignis' shoulder and smiled at him. Titus smiled dutifully back, and no one was any the wiser that he was shaken up. As it always was.
The summer wind blew Ignis' hair all over the place, Monica's too, and Titus stood back and watched over them, mind whirring endlessly away. He wished he had a true timeframe, for if Titus became antsy enough he would just drag Ignis into the courthouse and get married there without the glitz and behind Regis' back. Then there would be less pressure for a formal ceremony, and when the fall came it wouldn't matter if they just hadn't gotten around to it. Or, perhaps, he could—
A hand waved in front of his eyes, and Titus inhaled and glanced down to see Ignis smiling at him in exasperation.
"Still awake?"
"Verily," Titus affirmed, as Monica gave a deep-chested laugh at Titus' expense.
"Trying to escape the prattle, are we? Allow me to interrupt the mental escapades to inform you that I'm retiring for the night. I have a busy day tomorrow."
Ignis retiring for the night always really meant, 'I'm seven glasses of champagne in and if I don't leave now you'll be carrying me home and then my head will hurt tomorrow and I'll be cranky'. And Titus sometimes liked cranky Ignis, but not hungover cranky Ignis, because that one was snappy and unpleasant and had such sharp claws that even Titus winced when they came out.
Happy to leave behind Ardyn's lingering chill, Titus extended him arm chivalrously, just to give Monica a good giggle, and quickly uttered, "Good. When you two are together I feel as if I'm being circled by the sharks."
And Titus didn't know if he meant Ignis and Monica or if he was just still seeing Ardyn circling him.
Monica called, "I heard that."
Titus lifted his chin, feigning innocence, and was very eager to walk Ignis out and get in the car and leave behind that awful unease.
Ignis was none the wiser, for Titus had many years of practice in the art of hiding any and all emotions, of letting only what he wanted show through, and when he smiled over at Ignis tipsy Ignis just smiled right back at him and asked no questions. As Ignis slept away beside of him, however, Titus stared up at the ceiling and prayed that Ardyn's idea of 'having fun' wouldn't result in any harm coming to Ignis, for Ardyn never did hesitate to hurt someone innocent if it tormented someone else.
Days dragged.
Titus was always looking over his shoulder.
Titus could only protect Ignis as best he could, because there was no way to placate Ardyn and get him off their backs altogether. Ardyn wouldn't stop unless Ardyn wanted to stop, and so Titus could only keep his eyes on Ignis as much as he could, and he texted Ignis frequently in between. If Ignis thought Titus' unusual amount of hovering was annoying, then he didn't say so, and always very quickly responded to Titus' texts.
How frightening it was to be across the city in Glaive HQ, while Ignis was far away and out of his sight as Ardyn was always roaming about here and there.
Who could ever keep someone safe from Ardyn, when Ardyn could be everywhere and all at once and disguised as whomever?
For all of Titus' fretting, nothing much ever seemed to come of it.
Summer faded into fall, and there had been neither sight nor sound of the daemon.
Ignis sometimes brought his two briefcases by the Kingsglaive headquarters, and sat in Titus' office with him as they both did paperwork, and Titus wondered if Ignis did so because of Titus' constant texting. Come to think, Ignis had been complimenting Titus a bit more than usual lately, and that was great, but Titus was beginning to understand a little why.
Ignis mistook Titus' constant checking in as insecurity, for Titus had voiced several concerns about Ignis being so young. Ignis must have thought Titus texted him so frequently because Titus was worried about some younger man swaggering by and sweeping Ignis off his feet. And well...maybe that was kinda true, because gods knew Titus kept Luche under constant surveillance just for that reason, but he wasn't that insecure.
Really. He wasn't.
...really.
He had always behaved himself, and even knowing that Ignis had called Luche and that Luche had set foot into Titus' home hadn't set him off, because he wasn't that insecure. He'd say it as many times as he needed to, though for himself or Ignis was yet to be seen.
Titus had never been in a true long-term relationship, and so he couldn't attest to whether or not he was a jealous sort of man. He didn't think he was, not really; it was that he had put so much effort into this, had staked his entire life and reputation and everything he stood for on this, and if one little thing went wrong than everything Titus had built could crumble. Every thread was mindfully woven—some younger man intruding and stealing Ignis' attention could very easily strain the web too much and the entire thing could break loose and freefall.
But it was rather nice to have company during the droll paperwork, as Ignis made very quiet conversation from time to time as their pens scribbled away.
Fall frosted over into winter. All was well. It had been six months since Ardyn had whispered in Titus' ear, and Titus had started letting his guard down, slowly but surely.
A terrible mistake.
A cold day in January.
Titus had been daydreaming in council, pondering what he would procure for Ignis' twenty-first birthday, mind ever whirring, and he had been content that day. Had been in a good mood. Everything had been going so well, lately, and there hadn't been a peep from Ardyn, nor any turmoil within the Citadel. Everything was on track, every mechanical plan grinding along so nicely, and everything was going so well, in fact, that Titus' main concern was Ignis' birthday gift. He had turned into a devoted husband, against all odds, ridiculous as it was, and couldn't be bothered to deny it nor change it.
He was perfectly content that way, thanks a lot.
After council, Titus took to the metro. He had taken one of his piled up vacation days, in a rather spur of the moment decision. He meant to use it to wander the city and find a birthday gift, but more honestly he was actually using it to wander the city and eyeball suits. For all it mattered, really, for Regis would no doubt try to stuff the both of them into some old royal raiment, even if they protested.
The city gleamed away in the winter sun, all these now so familiar buildings lit up, these streets he knew like the back of his hand ever busy.
This city...
Ignis was always happy. Titus wanted to keep him that way, and as he walked through Insomnia's hectic streets that day, perusing shops, he glanced up at the skyscrapers from time to time. He intended to do his very best to cause the least amount of damage to the city as possible when the day came, for he had come to like it a bit over the years but more so because Ignis adored Insomnia. He wouldn't have full control of that, of course, but would do his best, as he always did.
There was no point in razing the city; Ignis would mourn it.
He didn't find any gift to his liking that day, and ambled to the Citadel shortly after to get his car. The winter sun was fairly high yet in the sky, and it would be a bit of a surprise for Ignis, having Titus there once more before him.
Nothing seemed amiss. Another chilly winter day, clear and bright, and Titus' mood was very good.
When Titus walked to his front door, however, he paused, key in hand and freezing still.
Thought he had heard a voice from inside.
Ignis shouldn't have been home, not yet, it was far too early for that. He leaned in, trying to listen, and was very certain then that he heard Ignis' voice. Hm—perhaps he had taken an early day, too, and Ignis had a habit of speaking to inanimate objects as easily as he spoke to a human being. Titus turned the lock with no further thought, but when he meant to turn the handle, he stopped short.
There was another voice.
Ignis wasn't much of a television watcher, and that voice was too loud to be coming from a phonecall. Titus held the handle, and paused. Tried to listen, to see who was there and what was happening and if perhaps he had just been hearing things.
Anxiety. Paranoia.
For the first time in months Titus looked over his shoulder. For all the good that did, when Ardyn was only seen when he wanted to be.
He was nervous then, afraid that he would open his own front door and see himself already there, and he dreaded that above all else, because Ardyn never disguised himself just to play the role of a charming gentleman.
With a deep breath for courage, Titus braced himself, and pushed open the door.
And fuckin' hell, it was like a fire had been set, from that awful rush of fury that rose up.
Not Ardyn at all.
He had heard a voice alright, a familiar one, because he opened the door to see Luche in his house. For the second goddamn time. And not just in his house, no, that woulda been bad enough, would have been enough of a violation, was a huge boundary that had been crossed, to come over without Titus actively dying on the floor, but Luche was in his house and was also furiously groping Titus' fiancé.
Un-fuckin'-believable.
Had never felt such wrath. Could never say he had lost control of his temper, had never led his emotions take over, but by the gods did he ever then, as he stood there in his front door frame and saw Luche's hands gripping Ignis' backside firmly, as Ignis' arms looped around Luche's neck and their lips were locked so heatedly it would be a miracle if they could be untangled.
For the first time in his living memory, Titus saw red.
Red.
Okay, maybe he was a jealous man, but it seemed perfectly reasonable to him to be so in such a circumstance.
Luche was dead.
Luche's heavy hands flew down to Ignis' thighs, Ignis' hands pulled back and ran down Luche's chest, and suddenly one long leg had been wrapped around Luche's waist as Luche's teeth scraped down Ignis' neck.
Titus came out of his stupor with a vengeance.
He marched forward, hand at his side and very ready to summon his arms, and Titus had absolutely every intention of breaking Luche's legs right there and then. Breaking his legs? Nah, not good enough, he was gonna break every single bone in that creep's body, was gonna wreck him, Luche was gonna be eating out of a straw for the remainder of his miserable life by the time Titus was done with him. Was gonna kill that unbelievable son of a bitch—
The hurt he felt then was remarkable, but was overridden by the fury. Couldn't even focus on what he felt for Ignis in that moment, so intent was he on maiming Luche. Sometimes, he forgot that although Ignis was no longer a teenager, he was still just a boy. A kid, and Titus was really just a few years off from being an old man. Titus' insecurities then seemed well-founded.
How long had this been going on? When Luche had come to Titus' house long ago to haul him off to the hospital—had Luche lingered?
Wrath.
They were so stuck on each other that they hadn't even noticed Titus there yet, lost in their own little world.
But then, in the middle of Titus' march, he suddenly crashed into something.
Cracked his nose, staggered back, and was remarkably confused then, because he had obviously slammed into a wall but of course there wasn't one in front of him. A lurch of dread, as blood leaked from his nose, and Titus reached out his hand pryingly.
He rested it then against an invisible barrier, and knew.
It was Ardyn.
Titus summoned his great sword then, drew it up, and struck the wall as hard as he could. Bursts of light, sparks, ripples of a shockwave. It cracked, but didn't break, and beyond that invisible barrier Luche had sank his teeth into Ignis' neck furiously enough to earn a cry, grinding into Ignis so forcefully that they staggered back together against the wall.
But of course it wasn't really Luche, it was Ardyn, and for that it was likely that Ignis was only seeing Titus there instead, and the terror led Titus to raise his sword again for the final blow.
Stopped short when Ardyn materialized beside of him, and drawled, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The problem with human eyes, isn't it, that you really don't know exactly where something happens to be. Terrible depth perception. Wouldn't want to accidentally hit your dear fiancé."
Titus instantly froze up, and even though it killed him inside he flicked his sword away into crystal.
Only needed one warning from Ardyn, just one, because Ardyn was never above actually keeping his word.
Titus instead turned to Ardyn, and hissed, "Get. Out."
Ardyn seemed bored, turned his eyes to Ignis, being practically devoured by that false Luche, and he finally replied, "No. I'm having a good time here." Ardyn snorted, and lifted his chin, adding, "Enjoy the show, won't you? I think they look rather nice together."
His greatest fear, and of course Ardyn already knew that.
Titus never lifted his eyes from Ardyn, because Ardyn would pounce if he looked away and also because he just couldn't stomach seeing Ignis writhing and moaning in this false Luche's hands. Seeing Ignis like that with someone else—couldn't stand it. Even knowing that Ignis was surely blissfully unaware that it was not Titus manhandling him.
Assuming, of course, that anything he was seeing was actually real, for Ardyn could create whatever he wanted. There may not have been anything at all beyond that wall, and Ignis could so easily have not even been home.
All the same, Titus had to play the game.
Ardyn smiled then, and suddenly said, "You dislike this. What a shame. Let me try again." A snap of Ardyn's fingers, and a smarmy, "How's this? Better?"
Titus knew he shouldn't, but couldn't help it; he glanced over.
Luche was gone.
A lurch of Titus' heart, a surge of burning hurt, because Luche was gone, alright, and now suddenly Cor was there, holding Ignis against the wall as Ignis' legs tangled around Cor's waist. Ignis held Cor's face in his palms as Cor furiously kissed him, and Titus couldn't look away then because he couldn't even move. Was certain he had stopped breathing, as his stomach twisted and his chest ached.
Not right, but also the only outcome that should have ever existed. In a way, that was how it should have always been. Titus had intruded, had unfairly taken Cor's place, perhaps, and was seeing now what should have been.
Ardyn snorted at Titus' helpless stare, amused as ever.
Titus couldn't look away, because he was looking at the only situation in which everyone would have been safe, no one would have been hurt, and no hearts would have been broken. Titus was pretty sure that Cor and Ignis had been destined for each other, for a man like Cor to actually fall, but he hadn't cared and had plunged forward anyway, just because Ignis paying him attention had been nice.
Selfish. Everything Titus had ever done had been only for his own benefit.
Ardyn, of course, knew everything, for suddenly that false Cor broke the kiss, face soft and eyes squinted, and Titus heard that low, fervent whisper.
"I love you so much, so much, you don't know—"
Ignis' spellbindingly breathless smile.
Hurt, because they looked quite perfect together, and Titus now had a visual confirmation of what Cor might have looked like had he ever been truly happy.
His only friend, left behind.
Ardyn crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, happily watching as Cor and Ignis pressed foreheads together and murmured to each other like doves, as Titus' remaining heart began cracking.
Oh, Cor—
A low, rumbling mutter from Ardyn.
"The Marshal was who he was ordained for. You must have known all along. You leapt in regardless."
Another pang of hurt, and even if Ardyn was lying, it sounded so legitimate that Titus believed it either way, whether it truly was ordained or if Ardyn had just spouted whatever came to mind. It was likely that Ardyn only said it because he knew that Titus had always assumed it to be so.
Titus swallowed, still frozen, and Ardyn pushed off the wall.
"Perhaps now is a good time to let him go. Send him off to the Immortal, and then you and I can focus on other things. I've begun setting things into motion. It won't be much longer."
Sending Ignis into Cor's ever waiting arms had always been the right thing to do, and yet Titus had refused to do so, and would continue to do so.
And so, as he watched false Cor murmuring away to a potentially false Ignis, Titus just stated, very plainly, "No."
"Stubborn."
Stubborn, yes, because he was in love, and men in love did very stupid, irrational things.
Said as much by Ardyn, who then asked, "You won't become a liability, now, will you? Love does very strange things to even the hardest men, and though we have had this conversation several times before, every time I return you seem to be deeper in. Are you certain you can hold this all together?"
Titus had walked his path without wavering for thirty years, and nothing had ever caught his eye and shifted his focus until Ignis, and that was why Ardyn was here right now, tormenting him.
It was admittedly one of the harder things he had ever done, to take his eyes away from that fake Cor and turn them to Ardyn and say, with no tremor, "Yes."
And he meant that, he did. Had already planned a million different ways to get Ignis out of this city without him being none the wiser. He could and would hold it all together, whatever he had to do and whomever he had to harm to make it so.
Ardyn looked him up and down, condescendingly, and rolled his eyes a bit.
"I'm entirely unconvinced," he crooned, as Titus' heart skipped a beat.
Once more, Ardyn snapped his fingers, and in his panic Titus whipped his head back over.
Nothing.
Nothing at all, and no one there.
A momentary rush of relief. Ignis wasn't home yet, and Ardyn had been merely tormenting him a little, making him squirm because it made Ardyn happy to play with others.
Titus' relief came far too soon and was far too quickly shattered, for he suddenly heard a noise from beyond. He turned his head again, and spied Ignis, walking out into the kitchen and standing before the coffee maker, a folder full of papers beneath his left arm. His phone was held up to his ear by his right shoulder as he began making coffee, and Titus could hear him speaking.
"Yes, Noct— No, I will not. I've told you a thousand times how I feel about your dirty shoes being out in the open by the front door! I don't— No! Just open the blasted closet, Noct, they're right there! It literally takes all of ten extra seconds of your life to open the door, take the boots down, and then put them back in when you get home. You— Ugh. Noct. You're being quite dramatic."
Ignis sighed, heavily, entirely oblivious to Ardyn and Titus there beyond that wall, and the dread rushed right back up. Ignis had taken the day to tend to Noctis' apartment, clearly, and had come home early. Of all times.
Impatient Ignis set the papers on the counter and tapped the coffeemaker as it slowly brewed, as he and Noctis had a catfight over the location of Noctis' boots. Huffy Ignis finally grabbed a mug and put it straight under the stream, far too irritated to wait, as he muttered and griped and huffed.
Ardyn lidded his eyes, glanced over at Titus, and teased, "This is the one, is it? Hm!"
Titus stared helplessly at Ignis, and stayed silent, afraid to make a move that would have set Ardyn off.
Ignis suddenly swung the pot back under, dumped milk into his mug to cool it down enough for him to swig it one long chug, and then Ignis called crankily to the phone, "Noct! This discussion is over! Your boots are to remain in the closet when not in use and that is that!"
With that, Ignis hung up, glared at his phone, and then tucked it in his pocket as he began making another cup of coffee.
Titus didn't dare glance at Ardyn, hoping he would get bored and just leave.
Hardly; when Ignis had his mug full again, he tromped off out of their sight, and Ardyn stepped in front of Titus.
"Enough games. Do what you need to do, High Commander, but be ready on that day. I do still think this is unwise on your part. You should do the right thing, and send him away now. He wasn't really ever yours to begin with. And now with you seemingly wishing to impede his destiny, I begin to feel I should interfere a bit, as you've interfered with others. Send him away. It would be best for all. Here; let me give you a head-start."
An awful smile and then suddenly Ardyn was surrounded by shadows, and Titus felt the ice of dread down his back when suddenly he was staring at himself. How bizarre, to stare at the man in front of you and it was only yourself looking back, and Titus was quick to step forward and hiss, "Get out! Don't you dare—"
Ardyn scoffed, very unbothered, and raised a hand to run it over his now short, messy hair, clearly enjoying the sensation of being someone else.
"Don't mind me. I won't be long. Stay here and enjoy the show."
Oh—to hear his own voice coming back at him. The worst feeling, as Ardyn kept his oddly condescending lilt in whosever voice he happened to be borrowing.
Made him shudder.
Ardyn took a step backward, through that invisible barrier, in Titus' form, as the real Titus stood helplessly behind and could do little but watch. Ignis' life wasn't in danger, Ardyn had made it clear that Ignis was needed far beyond the fall of Insomnia, and so Titus couldn't really justify bringing his sword back out and risking harm to Ignis when Ardyn could so easily bring him to it.
Ardyn turned his back to Titus, there was the conjured sound of a door slamming, and then Ignis suddenly called, from within, "Titus? That you?"
Who else would it be?
Ignis came around the corner, coffee in hand, saw Ardyn as Titus and smiled, but Ardyn wasn't smiling.
A low scoff, and then Ardyn said, in Titus' voice, "Guess you have to ask, now, huh? What with Luche swinging by."
Luche?
Confused and bewildered, Titus restlessly darted his eyes back and forth between the two beyond him. Luche had swung by long ago, only the once.
...hadn't he?
Ignis looked a bit anxious, perhaps, at Titus' tone, and his voice was quite deep when he uttered, softly, "You caught him in time? He was looking for you. Just dropped some papers off."
Ignis inclined his head to the folder he had set down on the counter, and Titus felt his hands getting clammy. Luche would never come to Titus' house, never, not without very good cause, and paperwork was not that; Ardyn had been playing for a while.
Setting the stage.
Ardyn made a noise deep in his throat, stance stiff and face taut, and Titus felt the dread ever creeping as he knew that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be pleasant. His fear had always been of Ardyn impersonating him and causing harm to Ignis while looking like Titus.
A long silence, as Ignis set his coffee down and suddenly looked very nervous. Jittery. Uneasy. Not things Titus was used to seeing upon composed Ignis' face. Had never seen Ignis like that, and it hurt to think that Ignis thought he was the cause of it.
A short impasse, as Ignis shifted his weight anxiously as Ardyn stared him down, and then Ardyn muttered, "Bet he made a delivery, alright."
A crinkle of Ignis' brow, a sharpening of his face.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ignis looked as angry as the false Titus, as they stared each other down for a moment, but of course Ignis quickly broke the gaze and turned his back to Ardyn. Anything to avoid confrontation, but it wouldn't work this time because Ardyn had a goal in mind.
Ardyn took a step forward, and said, in a very chilly voice that Titus unfortunately recognized as one he often used, "Is this going to be a habit from now on? Me coming home to see Luche strutting out of my damn house?"
Ignis whirled around, hands held slightly out at his sides, and he tried to calm the situation then by breathing, "Titus, please. Why are you saying this? He was looking for you, I told you. Whatever has gotten into you?"
Oh, no—
Titus sensed the tide pulling out, standing now upon that bare beach before the tsunami came.
Dread.
"Don't even pretend you don't know," Ardyn hissed, reaching out and snatching Ignis' arm in a vice grip that made Ignis nearly wince. "Luche's head over heels for you. Kind of you to finally give him a chance. Don't think Glaives make paper deliveries to the Captain's house. You know why he came. You're not that dumb, and neither am I."
A tint of pink on Ignis' cheeks, a lowering of his eyes, and Ignis' shoulders slumped a bit as he tried so desperately hard to avoid a fight.
"Nothing happened," Ignis said, and Titus very much believed that.
The real one, anyway.
"Bullshit," the fake Titus hissed, grabbing Ignis then by the face and forcing his head up. "How stupid do you take me for?"
Ardyn's iron hand prevented Ignis from speaking, and Titus' mind whirred away. Already trying to plan a speech up his head when he was forced to grovel before Ignis shortly and apologize for something he hadn't done.
And hoping, above all else, that Ardyn wouldn't really hurt Ignis.
As Ardyn held Ignis' face, far too forcefully, fingers very much digging into Ignis' cheeks, Titus spied, for the very first time, a little flicker of fear. Something else he had never seen, for Ignis wasn't afraid of anything, and had certainly never been afraid of Titus, the way Ignis haphazardly said whatever the hell he wanted to Titus.
Finally, Ignis managed to hiss, "Remove your hands."
Ardyn scoffed, but let Ignis go all the same. Ignis quickly took a step back to diffuse the situation, and Ardyn suddenly held out his hand, ordering, "Give me your phone."
Ignis defiantly held his ground, and replied, "No."
A short silence.
Titus' pulse raced, dread ever mounting as Ardyn held Titus' entire fate there in his hands. He was planning a wedding, and Ardyn was happily thrashing it.
Ardyn burst forward then, making Titus jump, and before Ignis could even make a move Ardyn had twisted his arm behind his back, forcefully enough to make Ignis cry out, and with his other hand he reached into Ignis' pocket and retrieved his phone.
Ardyn let Ignis go, began scrolling through the phone, as Ignis gazed up at him with something close to fury.
Again, Ignis asked, in a far stronger voice, "Titus! What on earth has gotten into you? Give me my phone."
"What's gotten into me?" Ardyn retorted, thinly, "What's gotten into you? Or should I be asking who has gotten into you?"
A painful flush of red on Ignis' face as he pursed his lips.
Ardyn said then, with a stiff jerk of his hand, "There; blocked. Deleted. Call Luche again and see what happens. Now. If you'll excuse me."
False Titus threw the phone none too gently at Ignis' face; Ignis flinched and caught it, and suddenly Ardyn was marching.
For it all, Ignis called, angrily, "Where do you think you're going?"
Oh, Ignis—why did he have to open his mouth?
Ardyn turned to look at Ignis over his shoulder and said, very seriously, "To break Luche's legs."
The anger on Ignis' face instantly twisted into panic, terror, and Ignis dropped his phone to the floor to rush forward and grab the back of Titus' uniform and try to pull him back. Ignis took the words very seriously, because Titus of course had just recently broken a leg. Damn; everything seemed to work against Titus in that moment.
Ignis tried to halt Ardyn, and there was a high, thin, "Titus! Don't you dare—!"
Ignis just didn't know to stop when he was ahead, sometimes, and Titus rested his hands against the barrier preventing him from coming forward, anxious and frightened. Sensed a darkness, then, and was right.
Ardyn looked back and down at Ignis, stared and stared, and then scoffed.
A low, soft whisper.
"So it is true. You had almost convinced me."
Ardyn was a phenomenal actor; Titus could give him that, because for a moment Titus actually believed that it was himself there. The worst part of this entire thing, actually, was that this was precisely how the real Titus would have reacted, coming home to seeing Luche leaving it.
Ignis tried yet to pull Ardyn back, and only whispered then, beseechingly, "Please. Calm down."
The wrong thing to say to Titus, be it a fake one or the real one, and Titus flinched when Ardyn suddenly whirled around, slapping Ignis across the face with his palm and then once more with the back of his hand. A slap only in name, because Titus was very powerful and Ardyn more so, and so Ignis probably felt like he had been sucker-punched.
Ignis staggered, Ardyn grabbed him by the collar, and suddenly Ardyn had slammed Ignis so forcefully back into the wall that Titus heard his head slam. A grunt of pain, as Ignis' hands instinctively flew up to grab Ardyn's wrists. Ardyn slapped Ignis one more time, very powerfully, just for the hell of it, and the rage then overtook Titus' dread.
No, no, that son of a bitch, this was all wrong, because Titus had done every single thing Ardyn had wanted and had been given permission to have a personal life in return, that lowlife bastard.
The sight of blood trickling from Ignis' nose was harder to swallow for Titus than the thought of Insomnia on fire.
Ardyn shook Ignis, furiously, and hissed, "I've staked my entire reputation on you! How dare you! You'd make a fool of me? You'd have the neighbors gossiping, and then suddenly the entire council will be laughing at me behind my back, because the Captain's fiancé has another man coming and going while the Captain is fighting outside the walls! How dare you! I'll have to walk past all of these tabloids, day after day, mocking me? Everything I've built up, gone because of you. No one would ever take me seriously again."
Another slam, Ignis' glasses fell off at the force, and before Ignis could even attempt to lift his voice in his own defense, Titus watched in horror as Ardyn's right hand suddenly clamped down on Ignis' throat.
Instinctively, Titus summoned his sword, raising it up in the desperate need to shatter the barrier, and yet again he forced himself still at the last second.
Shit—couldn't risk it.
A rather brutal throttle, and then just as abruptly as Ardyn had snatched him, Ardyn let Ignis go. Ignis was cool, collected, ever levelheaded, and made no move then. Just stood there very stilly against the wall, so quietly, analyzing the situation and attempting to determine the best course of action.
Ardyn was no doubt very delighted, as Titus writhed behind the wall. If Ardyn came back to this side, Titus would absolutely slice his head off and let him resurrect himself and then do it one more time just to make his feelings known.
Already, the red was visible on the right side of Ignis' face, over his cheek and eye, already bruising from the force of Ardyn's palm. How it hurt, to know that Ignis thought it was Titus, and how it hurt more to know that this was very in character for him and so Ignis had no reason to ever suspect that something was amiss.
Ignis stared at Ardyn, and then very calmly said, despite the blood running from his nose, "Are you finished pitching your fit?"
Reprimanding Titus like a child, as of course Ignis would have.
Ardyn slapped Ignis again, because in such a mood Titus also likely would have, and then Ardyn turned on his heel and stalked off towards the door, leaving Ignis leaning against the wall and watching him go.
As Ardyn swept by him, Titus had the very unfortunate sight of being winked at by himself, and when Ardyn walked out the door, Titus followed him, sword still drawn. Would have gladly decapitated the bastard right there on his front lawn. Wasn't given the chance; as soon as they were in sunlight, Ardyn flashed him a very wide smile, so frightening to see coming from Titus' face, and then he was gone before Titus could strike.
A low, rumbling whisper in his ear, from everywhere and all around.
"I'll leave you now, High Commander. I trust you'll do the right thing when the time comes. For now, you have a bit of a mess to clean up here. I'd get to it, if I were you. Consider my request for a wedding invitation more seriously next time."
Petty!
Oh, that anger, had never felt anything like it, but there was no one to take it out on, not then. He put his sword away, and everything was quiet and still, calm, as if Ardyn had never been there.
Titus stood there outside of his front door yet again, and didn't even know what the hell to do. Titus found himself suddenly pacing in circles, stalking this way and that, wracking his brain and trying to figure out what the hell to do. What to do, what to do, what to say, how to even start. How he should apologize for something he hadn't done, and how he could possibly convince Ignis that it would never happen again.
Ignis was probably inside packing up his things, ready to hit the road and never come back, because that was what any normal person would have done.
Titus suddenly threw himself down on his front step, held his head in his hands, and rested his elbows on his knees. How the hell was he even going to start? How did a man even begin such a conversation?
The sun shifted across the sky as Titus sat there on his step, fingers in his hair and lost up in his mind, and he only came out of his stupor when the door suddenly opened. He inhaled, came to, but didn't even bother looking up, because honestly he was too afraid to see Ignis with suitcase in hand.
Too afraid to see if Ignis' hand no longer had a ring.
A very long silence, and then a droll, taut, "Still here, are you?"
Titus was wisely silent.
The hesitation then was awkward and long, as Ignis tread ever so gently, and then there was a step. One more, and then another. Ignis' shadow hung over him, but still Titus held his head in his hands and didn't look up. At Titus' very persistent silence and immobility, Ignis suddenly sighed. A motion beside of him, as Ignis sat down next to him on the step. The gap between them was painfully obvious.
Titus didn't yet look over, didn't move, didn't speak, because he didn't know what to say and if Ignis was leaving then he didn't want to see it.
Had Ignis called Noctis? Gladiolus? Clarus? Cor? Had he told anyone? Titus was prepared to see his pristine reputation be smudged by this, was ready to take a punch from Gladiolus or Clarus, was ready to defend himself from Cor's katana, and had to take it, all of it, had to bend the knee, because there was no other choice.
Another sigh at his side, and then Ignis murmured, very softly, "Do you truly distrust me so?"
"No," Titus very quickly uttered, because that was true, but still he clenched his hair and didn't look over.
"Then care to explain to me what that was all about?"
Pfft—what could he say?
'My daemonic superior was offended I refused him a wedding invitation and so decided to have some fun at my expense.'
What a hole he had dug himself into.
Titus opened his mouth, and choked. Ignis patiently waited, and Titus was honestly astounded that Ignis was even sitting there at all, that Ignis was even attempting to speak to Titus, that Ignis hadn't left yet and was attempting to give Titus a chance to explain himself.
At more silence, Ignis suddenly said, "Look at me."
Didn't want to.
All the same, Titus inhaled, lowered his hands at last, and turned his head.
And, oh, how he wished he really hadn't, as the bruise over Ignis' eye was ever darker by the minute. He had cleaned the blood from his face by then, but his nose was still red, and he hadn't put his glasses back on yet. Titus could see them in his pocket, but perhaps his cheek was too sore for them to be comfortable.
Ignis' eyes bored into his own, very piercingly, those razors flying out, and Titus was pinned down by them as he very often was.
Ignis then rephrased the question, and asked, "If you trust me, Titus, then why were you so angry?"
Titus swallowed, and for whatever reason he glanced down to Ignis' hand. The ring was still there, remarkably, and that was what gave Titus the courage to find some words at last. In some way, then, even though he had to lie, Titus managed to be honest, because, really, Ardyn had only done what Titus actually would have had it been Titus coming home to another man leaving.
Titus lifted his eyes back up, met Ignis' gaze, and finally whispered, in a voice so soft it sometimes went out altogether, "It occurs to me, sometimes, that I'm... It's not that I doubt you mean it, but you mean it now, when you say my age doesn't bother you. I fear what will come to pass when this scenario we've only discussed becomes a reality. I suppose that I'm worried you'll leave me behind, when I can no longer keep up. When I see Luche, I see only a man that's a decade older than you, and not a quarter century."
Ardyn was a phenomenal actor, but at the end of the day, so was Titus. He was very easily able to sit there and be remorseful for something he hadn't done, to come up with reasonable excuses, because always having an excuse in his palm was Titus' specialty.
Ignis' sharp eyes were softer when Titus looked back over at him, his stance less stiff as he clasped his hands atop one knee.
A heavy sigh then, as Ignis murmured, in one of those prettier rumbles he had, "It feels as if we recently had this exact conversation, Titus."
Titus ducked his head for the tenth time, and nodded, abashed.
They had. Titus was coming off as a broken record at this point, and hell, maybe Ardyn really was right; it was probably best to let Ignis go. But he couldn't, didn't have the heart, and yet all the same it was his duty to then utter, "I will not attempt to stop you if you wish to leave."
In all things, in all ventures, Titus always accepted full responsibility for any and all consequences, and this was no different. Ardyn, Titus, it didn't matter—had it not been for Titus, Ardyn would never have come calling to begin with.
A short silence, and then Ignis asked, "Do you want me to leave?"
Titus whipped his head back over and very earnestly breathed, "No. I would do anything you asked of me, if you would stay."
Ignis' eyes ran over his face, always studying him, and Ignis only uttered then, so quietly, "All I ask is that you have trust in me, as I do you."
Titus swallowed, and hesitated.
How could he promise that? Were he to offer Ignis that vow, then Ardyn would be very happy to test it. If Ignis stayed now, then Ardyn would already have a greater interest in seeing how much further he could push. How much Ignis would really be able to forgive, and Titus felt himself slipping on the knife's edge.
Ignis saw his hesitation, as Ignis saw everything, and pursed his lips.
"If you cannot have faith in me, then I don't see how we can move forward."
A jolt of anxiety, panic, standing on the edge of the cliff as he was, and so even though it was out of his control at some level, Titus offered, "I trust you. It's only myself I don't trust. I trust that you would stay by me even when I'm seventy, but I don't trust myself to understand why you would wish to."
The best he could verbally offer.
And, well, Titus had always meant it when he thought that Ignis was too kind, too forgiving, willing to debase himself for others far too much, and he was right.
For Ignis suddenly scoffed, and grumbled, not so seriously, "Bold of you to assume you'll live that long when you press me so far."
Incredulously, Titus scoffed in turn.
It seemed that Ignis intended to stay, and once more Titus didn't understand why.
He was grateful regardless, and finally whispered, weakly, "For gods' sake, can we go inside? Before someone...sees you."
Ignis' eye was ever darker. Last thing he needed was a neighbor seeing Ignis with a black eye.
Ignis stood up, obediently, and it was a walk of shame for Titus, holding the door open for Ignis and then slinking in behind him, his tail firmly between his legs and head downcast, shoulders low and stance non-combative.
Another awful silence, as Titus went to the folder left on the counter, and then he turned to Ignis and asked, in a pressing of Ignis' trust, "May I have your phone?"
This time, with a calmer Titus, Ignis handed it over with no protest. Titus pulled his own phone out, and made a point of putting Luche's number back into Ignis' phone and unblocking it. A goodwill effort, to show trust, and Ignis accepted it.
With a caveat.
Ignis said, when Titus handed his phone back over, "I don't care what the man does for the next twenty years, Titus. I don't care if he disobeys every order you give him and calls you every name under the sun. I forbid you from breaking Luche's legs. Ever. Is that clear? For always would I doubt the reason behind it."
Like the pathetic lapdog he actually was despite declarations otherwise, Titus very quickly nodded.
Dammit.
Now that Ignis had given a demand, Titus less forcefully gave his own, and tried, "Will you stay home for a few days? Take a vacation?"
He didn't need to say, 'so that no one will see your black eye and mob me.'
Ignis crinkled his nose, and yet conceded, "If you bring me all of my paperwork every day, I will."
Whew.
Titus felt the noose momentarily loosen.
Still, it was very odd to Titus to be standing there in his kitchen with a man he was very certain just an hour ago that he would never be seeing again. Ignis was too forgiving, and that wasn't a good thing but Titus was glad that he was all of a sudden, for it benefited him.
Ignis walked up to him, as Titus yet slouched, head down so that he was gazing up at Ignis through his lashes even as he stood taller. The definition of sheepish, and it was pitiful. Ignis really had ruined him, as Ardyn claimed.
"One more thing," Ignis very sternly began, as he put himself chest to chest with Titus.
"Yes? Anything."
Ignis narrowed his eyes, and hissed, very dangerously, "Organize your bloody dresser for the next month straight. No complaints."
Titus was shocked, and too quickly nodded again.
That was that, it seemed, as Ignis reached out and smoothed Titus' hair. At the touch, at permission granted to come near, Titus broke and embraced Ignis, and for one of the very few times in his life Titus whispered, "I'm sorry."
Ignis merely replied, "I know."
Titus stared at Ignis' ring for the rest of the night, and silently mourned.
He would have to delay. Couldn't get married now, not just yet, even though Ardyn implied the fall was approaching. How could he? Ardyn desperately wanted to gatecrash, to have fun, and a wedding was very much Ardyn's scene. Could only imagine the havoc he would attempt to cause.
Even though Ignis forgave him in the end, because of course Ignis did, Titus was shaken up and dropped his wedding plans. Supposed in that end Ardyn had accomplished what he had wanted, though paperwork or no Titus would attempt to drag Ignis up north and away from the risk of death at Noctis' side when the time came.
The Empire had promised Titus a free homeland. Perhaps because Titus kept all of his own promises, he blindly believed it and assumed it would be so with no delay and no hindrance.
Whatever Ignis' calling actually was, Titus wouldn't let him come to harm. Would have crossed all planes of existence, as Ardyn could, to make it so, whatever he had to do. Had Ardyn asked Titus to exchange his very soul for Ignis' safety, he would have done so. But Ardyn seemed to be the one who wished to drag Ignis into the shadows along with Noctis, and Titus for the life of him couldn't think of a way to stop him.
Every night dragged by like a year, as Titus held Ignis against him and stared off into space.
Longing.
He had just wanted to get married and go home.
He had never thought that that was an unreasonable desire.