Chapter 5
Hibernation
Snow.
The first thing Ignis saw, when he awoke on the train long hours later.
White all through the window, everywhere, and Ignis lifted his head from the glass, which had become frosted with ice in the cold. A slow lurch of awareness, and when Ignis came to, he glanced around. Glauca was sitting in front of him, out of uniform still now that he was back within his own borders. He was leaning over the small table in between them, pen scratching away above a stack of papers.
Ignis stared at him, because there was nothing else to look at except vast fields of endless snow.
Glauca glanced up from time to time through his lashes, but didn't speak.
Just as well; Ignis had nothing to say.
He stared away at Glauca, and only looked up when the compartment door opened and someone walked in. A glance over, and Ignis saw the Chancellor, holding coffee in either hand. Ignis honed in on the coffee, and swore to the gods that if one of them wasn't for him he was absolutely going to pitch a fit.
Luckily, one was, for the Chancellor came forward, set the coffees both atop the table, and then he studied Ignis quite openly.
Ignis returned it.
The Chancellor was older than Glauca, just as tall and broad, but his auburn hair was redder than Glauca's, longer, and although the Chancellor was smiling, Ignis still found something about him distasteful.
The Chancellor snorted, turned to Glauca, and began speaking, deep voice low and rumbling.
Ignis suppressed the roll of his eyes, turning them instead to the window, because the Chancellor had started speaking in a language Ignis didn't understand. Niflheiman, no doubt. Ignis had never heard it spoken in person. Only ever on the news.
Glauca spoke softly back, for just a moment, and then perhaps Glauca spied testy Ignis glowering out the window, for he abruptly said, in universal, "Don't be rude."
The Chancellor switched as well, and smarmed, "Forgive me! It was not my intent."
Ignis pretended to be unbothered, and pulled his phone out.
No signal. Naturally. Middle of nowhere as they were. He knew that already, but pulling his phone out when nervous was a habit. The satellite phone was on the table before him, and he checked the hour. Time to call Cor again.
Had Ignis been slightly more petty, he would have called Cor and held the entire conversation in Lucian, just so the two brutes next to him knew how uncomfortable it was to have someone speaking in front of you in a language you didn't understand. He didn't, for Cor would have worried about why Ignis suddenly didn't want to be understood.
He checked in quickly, as the Chancellor smiled away, and when Ignis hung up, suddenly the Chancellor had extended his hand.
"We have not yet been formally introduced. Izunia, Ardyn."
Ignis had no choice but to accept the handshake, which was firm and warm. He didn't offer his name in turn, for the Chancellor already knew it.
Ardyn and Glauca shared a look, and Ardyn stepped back, saying, "We'll be there in a few more hours. And then we'll get you settled in."
Joy.
Ignis tried to smile, and failed miserably, grabbing up his coffee so that everyone would stop speaking to him. The Chancellor took the hint and left, and Glauca with no word turned right back to his papers.
As promised, two hours later there were small houses. Villages. The first signs of civilization. Three hours, and bigger buildings came into view. Four hours, and they pulled into Gralea's central station. Glauca stood up to put on his overcoat, and took down the bags.
He said to Ignis, in that soft voice, with a glance at the bags, "Put your coat on."
Coat?
Ignis owned jackets, not coats, because Insomnia rarely grew unbearably cold even in winter. Snow only once or twice a year if lucky.
Ignis was silent, and then shrugged a hapless shoulder. Glauca seemed to understand, and with no hesitation Glauca suddenly removed his coat. Ignis lost several lives when Glauca stepped right up to him and put that huge coat over his shoulders. A whiff of leather and cologne. Supposed he should have been flattered and grateful, but Ignis felt nervous and overwhelmed.
Still, he uttered, "Thank you."
Glauca inclined his head, and then the train stopped. They stepped out, Ignis right on Glauca's heels and feeling very consumed by the coat that was far too large, and was momentarily taken aback by how cold it actually was. Stung his lungs, the air was so cold, and it was only November. Could only imagine how much colder it would get. Ignis glanced at coatless Glauca a bit guiltily, but the man seemed unbothered, despite the hairs on his arms standing up in the chill, walking along briskly as the Chancellor fell into step with them.
A black car waiting outside the station, and Ignis was off again.
He should have observed Gralea more carefully, but was too tired. Twelve hours now ahead of Insomnia, and feeling the lag.
He drifted in and out, as the car stopped and started, stopped and started. Going through the motions. They stopped first at some mobile shop, and Ignis' phone was given the necessary data to call home at last. They stopped then at what must have been the Imperial Palace, where Ignis sat down and signed several papers with no awareness.
Then, at last, the car stopped for what was the final time, in front of a very high-end looking complex.
Must have been where he would reside, for Glauca took the bags from the back.
Ignis followed him inside, into the lift, and then down a short hall which held only one door. Glauca pulled a key out and turned it, and it was around then that Ignis' stomach began twisting, when it became clear that Ignis was not being given his own private flat. It was apparent, suddenly, with how easily Glauca punched in a code after turning the lock, that this was his home.
Oh no—
Should have known, really.
Glauca held the door open, and Ignis hesitated before finally walking through the threshold. It was a very ordinary flat, nothing unusual at all about it, but still it felt as if he were stepping into the lion's den. The click of the door behind him was more like the death-knoll.
Ignis jumped a bit when hands were on his shoulders, but Glauca was merely grabbing the hem of the coat and helpfully taking it. No doubt he had seen Ignis' break in composure, for when he had the coat he was very quick to step back and distance himself.
As Glauca hung the coat up, he uttered, very softly, "This is my weekday residence. Come Friday evening, I go to my other home. It's outside of Gralea. An hour on the train. You're welcome to come with me, or you can remain here. It's your decision. However you feel most comfortable."
How Ignis would feel most comfortable would be to get on that train, alright, and go right back towards Insomnia.
At Ignis' silence, Glauca walked forward, into his line of sight, and said, "Tomorrow, we'll go out and procure you new clothing. I fear your winter gear is not nearly up to par. You stand now in the coldest city on the planet. Come deep winter, what you have will not suffice. Come. I'll show you around."
With that, Glauca began an impromptu tour of the large flat.
Ignis trudged along with no real sense of clarity, seeing but not comprehending. Just wanted to go to sleep, and really only perked up when Glauca opened a door upstairs and said, "This will be your bedroom."
Be it Glauca's flat or no, the sight of a bed was beautiful, and Ignis wished that Glauca would have just let him go to sleep right then.
Glauca set the bags down in the bedroom, looked over at Ignis, and then murmured, "I understand if it makes you uncomfortable to be here. But we thought it for the best. Your climate is very different, and it can be very dangerous here in this cold if you don't know how to go about it. I promised your Marshal that I would keep you safe during your stay, and that is what I shall do."
Ignis just nodded away, tiredly, and at long last Glauca mercifully inclined his head to the bed.
"Rest."
Ignis didn't need to be told twice, and had the sense only to text Cor from his now useable phone, inform him that he was safe and sound in Gralea and that he intended to sleep for the next forty-eight hours, and then collapse.
And that was almost precisely what Ignis did, though he actually slept for twenty-one hours straight.
When he awoke, at four in the morning, he poked his head out of the door, and heard nothing. He risked it, and crept as quietly downstairs as he could, very aware that it was before dawn and trying not to be rude. No matter, for Glauca was already awake and at the dining table, coffee in hand and shuffling through papers. It shouldn't have been as awkward as it was, as Ignis stood there in a fright and stared at the man.
Glauca very drolly looked Ignis over, and stood up. He helpfully poured Ignis a coffee, as it was clear that Ignis was stuck in the mud.
"Sleep well?" Glauca asked, in what almost sounded like a tease, and Ignis tried very hard to settle down and not make a fool of himself.
"Suppose so," he finally grumbled, staring down into his mug.
A long silence, as Glauca stared at Ignis and Ignis stared at his coffee, and then Glauca said, "We'll go out shortly to get you a coat. It's imperative you have a decent one. Forgive me for harping on it, but people really do die quite frequently here from the cold. For the sake of the world entire, you cannot be one of them."
Ignis snorted, weakly, and he didn't really know why he lifted his eyes then and met Glauca's pale ones, and finally thought to ask, "What is your name?"
Should have been his very first question, not the last.
Glauca seemed a bit taken aback, startled, but likely only because Ignis was speaking to him without being spoken to first. A short hesitation, as those pale eyes looked him up and down.
A very soft response.
"Titus. Drautos, Titus."
Ignis crinkled a brow, and uttered, mindlessly, "That's very—"
"Lucian?" Glauca—Titus—offered, and Ignis nodded. Another look up and down, another study, and then Titus uttered, "That is because I am. By birth. I left Lucis long ago, when I was fifteen."
He left it there, and Ignis hated to say that he was genuinely curious, but prying would mean actually speaking to the man, and Ignis simply wasn't ready.
At his silence, Titus added, "The Chancellor is also Lucian by birth. Odd, is it not, that two Lucians happened to find their way to power in Niflheim? Though the Chancellor came here far younger than I, and knows nothing else."
Not ready to talk to the man, no, but for some reason Ignis offered, very quietly, "I was born in Tenebrae."
Titus studied him, and then snorted.
"And you became Hand of the King of Lucis. Curious how things work out. Nations are more intertwined than people can see at first glance."
Ignis looked back down to his coffee, and said nothing more.
Titus.
What an odd man. His odd husband, rather.
When the sun had risen and ravenous Ignis had been given something to eat, they set out, as promised, to procure Ignis more appropriate winter clothing. As they walked through downtown Gralea, Ignis spied most people wearing long fur coats, though Titus' was leather with fur only on the collar. Fur hats, and some people even had fur boots. Fur seemed to reign in Gralea, and luckily for Ignis he found it quite fashionable.
Still felt somehow foolish when he was in a shop, trying on coats and hats and boots and wondering what Noctis would ever say if he saw Ignis bundled up head to toe in pounds of fur.
What Cor would have thought.
He settled on brown fur, to not stand out as much, for most people he had seen were wearing dark brown fur. Not so many people wore black like Titus, and Ignis was always happy to blend in. A brown hat to match, brown mitts, brown boots.
A perfect wallflower. As always.
Titus seemed satisfied, either way, as long as Ignis wasn't going to freeze to death on his watch and start war anew. Ignis wasn't given a tour of Gralea that day, for Titus seemed to notice how tired and testy Ignis was, beneath his calm mask.
When they returned to Titus' flat, Ignis was given a key, and a piece of paper with the door and building code. As if Ignis would be heading out alone much, but it was good to be prepared.
He took in Titus' flat then with more awareness, and realized how large it was. A very open living space, with large panes of glass that had a view to the city. The skyscrapers were a good distance away, the smaller buildings surrounding them here. Six or seven levels up, Ignis couldn't recall. Burgundy curtains and wallpaper. Beige carpet. The kitchen was black and red. The bedroom as well, come to think, and the bathrooms, too. Very sleek and modern but also rather dreary. Dark colors, after all, made for dark moods.
Or maybe that was just Ignis.
Ignis stared out over lit up Gralea when night came, at the snow drifting down amongst the distant skyscrapers, and mourned. Titus stared at him for a long while, but never uttered a word. Pensive as always, and eventually Titus ambled off into his bedroom and disappeared. Ignis stood there for hours, watching the foreign city and memorizing it, because it was home for now, however much that hurt to think.
He didn't sleep at all that night, for having slept so much before. His schedule was a wreck, and he spent the night texting Gladio and Noct and Cor, for when it was midnight in Gralea it was noon back home. When texting wasn't enough, Ignis finally called Noct, at one in the morning, keeping his voice low and quiet, and glancing frequently to the stairs, afraid to wake the General from his slumber.
Noct's voice was as mournful as Ignis', and when they hung up, Noctis said, "I already miss you so much."
"Likewise," Ignis murmured, and stared at the phone.
Days dragged, as Titus came and went and Ignis sat ever in the flat and didn't come much out of his bedroom.
As he had stated, come Friday evening, Titus came through the door and showered and then said, "I'll be leaving shortly. Shall you accompany, or will you remain here?"
"I'll stay here," he whispered, hoping that Titus wouldn't take offense.
None was, for Titus inclined his head and then took his leave.
As hung in the doorframe, Titus did say to him, "You have my number. Call me if there is a problem. I've left you a folder on the counter. It pertains all you'll need in my absence. I'll see you Sunday night. Don't hesitate to call me should you wish. I will call you tomorrow, to check in. Until then, take care."
Ignis nodded, and Titus was gone.
Ignis drifted over to the folder, and took it over to the dining table. He flipped it open, and saw papers. A stack of bills, Niflheiman currency, hard to say how much it actually was when Ignis didn't yet know the conversion rate. A metro pass. Ignis took the papers up, and saw various maps of the city. Of the bus system and the metro system. On one paper, Titus had helpfully written down Lucian letters and beside of them their Niflheiman counterparts. A few useful phrases, with phonetic pronunciation written below.
Well. Titus was nothing if not prepared, Ignis supposed, and seemed helpful enough.
Saturday afternoon, Ignis had gathered up the courage to head out alone, after saving the address of Titus' flat into his phone and planning out many different paths to get back. He dressed appropriately for the cold, and set out. It was fun at first, a little, to be alone in a foreign country, in a new city. To tromp through the snow and kick it about a bit, for Ignis had never seen this much of it.
But then the fun started dying down when he left the quiet suburbs and stepped into busier streets, making his way to the metro. Couldn't read any of the signs, and nobody smiled out here like they did back home. Everyone looked cold and miserable and cranky, and Ignis tried not to dawdle and make himself an annoyance as he hurried to the metro.
Nearly slipped on the ice on the steps and broke his neck, and when he held the metro pass Titus had left for him, he swiped here and there and couldn't get the doors to open. The people behind him grew impatient, embarrassment was rising, and finally the man behind Ignis sighed and reached out, snatching the pass right out of Ignis' hand and scanning it on the reader.
Ah.
Ignis meant to utter thanks, but the man just tossed the pass back at him with annoyed words in Niflheiman and then barged on. Ignis held his head high and tried not to panic, and stepped onto the train.
Didn't really know where he was going. Had merely wanted to walk about and explore, but was beginning to think he had made a mistake. He rode the train for a while and stepped out at a connection hub in what should have been downtown.
It was, just...
Not what Ignis had expected.
Busy streets, so many people, with old concrete buildings that were falling apart. Looked as if he had walked into some old forgotten factory, and even though the map said he was in the right place, Ignis' doubts got the better of him. He walked down one street, and saw shops, stalls, markets. But the signs were in letters he couldn't even read, and even though Titus' translation was in his pocket, Ignis couldn't be bothered. What difference did it make, if he sat there and translated the signs letter by letter? Still wouldn't know what it meant. Nothing was in universal, and he heard no one speaking it.
Isolated and lonely and lost, Ignis cut his excursion short and returned to the metro. His heart was hammering, stomach twisting and turning, and when Ignis finally managed to fumble his way back to the complex, he barely took off his boots and coat before he hung his head and started crying out of sheer frustration.
So alone. Clueless. Helpless.
No one even saw him there, and those who did were not helpful.
He stayed in the flat and stared out of the window, refusing to go back out.
Titus returned Sunday night, and Ignis was fully aware by then how reliant he actually was on the man.
Even so, even though he was helpful and polite and calm and ever courteous, Titus was very much beyond some invisible barrier, as much as Ignis was. Seeing each other so close and yet feeling oceans apart. Titus returned, yes, but Ignis still felt isolated and lonely.
Even as he sat there wide awake at the table with Titus, Ignis felt very much asleep.
Hibernating.
He wanted to go home.