Chapter 6

Snow Flower

Ignis was by default painfully polite.

Always had he striven to be, and always did he mind his manners in any situation. Always, yes, but oh, how the Chancellor tested them.

One of those men that was able to get right under Ignis' skin without actually meaning to, and no doubt the man meant well and was attempting to be charming and welcoming, but he came off as pompous, arrogant, condescending, ostentatious and utterly insufferable.

Couldn't stand him, and it was perhaps how annoying Ignis found the Chancellor that made Ignis realize that by comparison Titus was positively heavenly.

Distasteful, but true.

Ignis had been huddled away in Titus' flat, minding his own business, and then one day Titus walked in through the door. Their eyes locked, and Titus' very droll expression almost seemed apologetic, and Ignis quickly realized why when the Chancellor came sweeping in behind him. Ignis froze up, as the Chancellor came straight up to him, grabbed Ignis' right hand within both of his own, and shook it so exuberantly that Ignis was afraid his arm would be ripped right off.

"Nice to see you again. How is Gralea? Have you explored much? Come, come, I wish to give you a tour of the palace and the keep."

Speechless and flabbergasted, Ignis turned his eyes to Titus, who lifted his gloved hands out ever so slightly at his sides as if to say, 'What can I do?'

Ardyn placed a heavy hand on Ignis' shoulder, and began leading him out the door. Titus followed, and when Ignis looked over his shoulder frequently, Ignis swore that Titus was smirking ever so slightly. Ugh, some husband! Should have been more helpful.

The next thing Ignis knew, he was suddenly being given a short tour of Zegnautus Keep, very brief and not very in depth, naturally, for this was where the Empire worked on creating their weapons and crafted new technologies, and Ignis was a Lucian at the end of all things. A stranger. The Chancellor whisked Ignis back and forth, and then opened up a door and shoved Ignis inside.

Ignis looked up to see Ravus.

The exuberant Chancellor shoved Ignis along, and said, "You remember Deputy High Commander Fleuret, I'm sure! You lack a formal introduction."

Ravus and Ignis stared at each other, Ignis stunned and only half-aware, and Ravus curled his lip and looked very much like he'd rather go jump off a bridge than be here right now.

In his daze, Ignis bowed at the waist and uttered, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your Majesty."

Oops—

Ravus pursed his lips and glowered, and Ardyn nearly tittered, before pulling Ignis upright. Ardyn stared at Ravus, stared and stared, and when Ravus made no move, Ardyn very pointedly cleared his throat with a low, 'ahem'.

Ravus grimaced, stepped forward, and extended his hand.

The handshake was short but firm. Very, very firm, actually, as if Ravus was attempting to make Ignis wince, but Ignis didn't because he was too out of sorts.

Ardyn saw that Ravus wasn't being very cordial, and took charge, saying, "Nox Fleuret, Ravus, our local royal, meet Scientia, Ignis, our visiting royal. There. Was that so hard?"

Ravus looked Ignis up and down, sneering away, and seemed hardly impressed. Ignis rested a hand on hip as he studied Ravus in turn, and made very sure that Ravus knew that the sentiment was returned in equal parts. Titus glanced back and forth between them, and seemed a bit amused by Ignis' suddenly combative air.

Ravus eventually turned his eyes away, as if Ignis wasn't worth his time, and then Ardyn was dragging Ignis along again.

This time to the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor resided.

It was rather intimidating, being walked down that long aisle towards the throne, where the very old Emperor was being walked down the short steps towards Ignis. The old man was much friendlier than Ravus, at least, for he immediately met Ignis' eyes and said, "Welcome, welcome! Good to have you here!"

Ignis bowed, deeply, and when he stood up straight, the Emperor reached out and took Ignis' hand, shaking it with what once upon a time would have been as much energy as Ardyn had.

Behind, Ignis thought Titus snorted.

And then Ignis realized that the old man had no idea whose hand he was actually shaking.

A long stare of incomprehension, as the Emperor ever shook his hand, and then the old man uttered, "Yes, yes, good to meet you. Who are you?"

Ignis' lips parted, his eyes widened a bit even as his brow lowered, and it was around then that Ignis realized the old Emperor was not exactly operating on all cylinders. Few springs loose.

Ardyn swept in, put one hand on Ignis' shoulder and the other on the Emperor's, and said, loudly so the old man could hear, "This is our guest from Lucis! You remember. He's our dear General's spouse! You remember? You were at the wedding."

The old man kept on shaking Ignis' hand, nodding along as if he understood, but then he just said, "I thought that was next week."

Ignis tried not to smile, and the Chancellor rolled his eyes, heaved a dramatic sigh, and then wrangled Ignis from the Emperor and began showing him around once more.

A deep whisper in his ear.

"You'll take no offense, I hope. The Emperor has been suffering dementia as of late. He means nothing by it."

"Of course. None taken."

Outside the palace, Ardyn looked Ignis over, and said, "Now that all of that is out of the way. There is something we must discuss, the three of us."

A lurch of Ignis' heart, as Titus stood at perfect attention, face very calm. It seemed like it must have been a very serious matter, from the look on the Chancellor's face, and so Ignis was quite startled when Ardyn suddenly burst over towards Ignis.

"General!" Ardyn berated, dramatic hands flailing in the air, as usual, grabbing the collar of Ignis' fur coat. "This is no way to treat our guests! Look, he looks like everyone else. How drab! Is this any way to dress your royal spouse?"

A rush of red to Ignis' face, a flaring of his nostrils, and a great sense of offense.

Titus crossed his arms over his broad chest, narrowed his eyes, and merely grumbled, "He picked it out."

Ignis had, because looking like everyone else was what he wanted, but Ardyn clearly had qualms with that, for he snipped back, "Because you gave him no guidance. Allow me to intervene in this catastrophe."

Catas—hey!

Ardyn was absolutely the worst sort of man.

Ignis looked Ardyn up and down in show, and knew right off that if Ardyn thought he had good fashion sense then Ignis absolutely wanted the man nowhere near his closet.

Ignis stared over at Titus, who lifted his palms then before his chest and was very clearly saying with stance and expression, 'It's best if you let him have his way.'

Blast.

Once more, Ignis could only sigh and let others do what they would with him, and now he was being dragged once more through downtown Gralea, the Chancellor's hand gripping him arm and quite literally dragging him along. The man had no shame, and when Ignis glanced over his shoulder, he was absolutely certain that time that Titus was smirking.

Ignis was shoved into a shop, he fell into his head as Ardyn pushed and pulled him, and the next thing Ignis knew, Ardyn had shoved him in front of a mirror and said, with relief, "That's much better!"

Ignis observed himself, and suppressed his grimace.

He was all in white now, white boots and white hat, white gloves, and a white coat that was knee-length and very, very white. Some sort of arctic fox, perhaps, with loops and belts. Yes, it was nice, but all Ignis could see then was something pristine that would be extremely hard to get mud out of. And from what he had seen of Gralea's crumbling streets prior, grime was unavoidable.

Ugh.

Ardyn was satisfied, looking at Ignis in the mirror, and his voice was happier when he murmured, "There. Much better. A snow flower now more than a wallflower."

Ignis kept his face blank, even as his stomach twisted and his heart sank. Didn't want to be a snow flower in Gralea; he really just wanted to go back to Insomnia and leap into Gladio's arms and have Noct slap his back and feel like he fit in again.

Perhaps even clueless Ardyn could see the falling of Ignis' face, for he shoved Ignis along again, but thankfully this time right back to Titus' flat.

Ardyn shook his hand in farewell as energetically as he did in greeting, and said to Titus, as he meant to leave, "I only made one mistake, I assure you. You will see."

Titus merely inclined his head, Ardyn was gone, and Ignis pried, "One mistake?"

Titus removed his own coat, and offered, "The Chancellor fancies himself a matchmaker, among many other things. He picked these betrothals personally, after great research, and is priding himself on only one of them being a mismatch."

Indeed.

Ignis unclasped the belts on his own coat, and muttered, "That's a grand assumption, that we're the only mistake." Seeing that look on Gladio's face.

Titus glanced over as he removed his boots, and clarified, "Oh, no, you misunderstand. The Chancellor is very, very certain that you and I are 'perfectly compatible', as he says. It is the Shield and the Commodore that he now realizes was a miscalculation."

Once again, Ignis' face burned red, and he said nothing else.

Perfectly compatible? He and Titus? What sort of 'research' had Ardyn been doing to come to that outlandish conclusion?

He and Titus had yet to hold an actual conversation.

At Ignis' look, Titus exhaled heavily through his nose, and then whispered, calmly, "Forgive the Chancellor. He is...eccentric. He means nothing by it."

To say the least.

Ardyn was eccentric, the Emperor was all but senile, and Ravus was combative.

How bizarre it was that the feared and infamous General Glauca was the most tolerable man in Gralea, as well as the least offensive.

Ignis removed his boots, and said to no one in particular, "White will be so hard to keep clean."

Titus snorted, and teased, "I don't think that really occurs to him. I truly believe he actually expects me to pick you up every time we walk outside and carry you in my arms throughout all Gralea as if you were a damsel in distress."

Ignis glanced up, and was a bit shocked.

Seemed the General had a little sense of humor, buried deep under all that steel. That was encouraging.

With all formal introductions out of the way, there was little to do but attempt to settle in. Best to start trying to make himself at home, for it was clear that everyone fully expected him to remain here the entire two years, Ardyn most of all.

So Ignis gathered up his courage, took into account that Titus came home with food and that Ignis had never once seen him actually attempt to cook, and asked, cautiously, "May I make dinner?"

Titus looked as startled as Ignis had when Ardyn had appeared, but nodded all the same.

"This is your home. You don't need to ask permission. You live here. Do as you will."

Right. Hard to grasp.

Ignis slunk into the kitchen, carefully checking the cabinets and the refrigerator and drawers, motions quiet and tentative, and Titus seemed to realize that his presence made Ignis nervous. He walked away upstairs, and Ignis felt a little guilty about it, but was far more comfortable when alone.

And all he really thought, at seeing Titus' barren kitchen, was a grumpy, 'Men!'

Of that sort, rather, the sort that had little domestic skills, especially these old warriors like Cor and Clarus, who were just as helpless.

Perhaps Titus knew exactly what Ignis was thinking, for he came downstairs shortly after, and set some papers on the counter, saying, "There is a market down the street. I can accompany you, or you can try to go alone. No one there speaks universal. Here. These are for you, if you wish to study."

Nervousness.

Titus saw it, as he seemed to see everything.

"Gralea has been isolated from the rest of the world for many years due to this war, and indeed Niflheim in general. Many people no longer speak the universal language as they did in days past. You'll find those who do, of course, but you cannot rely on it. I learned that long ago, when I first came. I know how unsettling it is to be the only foreigner, understanding nothing. I will assist you in that end. You don't have to learn it, but if you do, you'll be less reliant on those around you, and for that will be less vulnerable."

A fair point, and Ignis exhaled through his nose and turned his eyes down to the papers. Perhaps he would try, but not tonight.

"Will you accompany me?" he asked, in a voice so low he was shocked Titus' ears even picked up the frequency, and Titus nodded.

A normal task, walking down the street together to procure groceries, but Titus stared at him the entire while as if Ignis had materialized right out of the snow. Scrutinizing him and analyzing, as Ignis often did to others as well.

Titus was at least happy enough to be a pack mule, and physically able to handle every bag Ignis thrust at him. Perhaps eager to show off, now that there was no war in which to do so.

Ignis was always yet a bit surprised by how truly cooperative the General was, even though he had been nothing but. Growing up fearing this man above all else. Glauca's legend made it hard to realize that Titus was just like any other man in personality as well as looks.

Supposed it was natural. The Empire feared Cor above all else; these citizens here in Gralea would have been utterly dumbfounded to see Cor the Immortal walking about downtown carrying bags of groceries. Legends were only that, and Ignis glanced over at Titus as they walked back home, to see nothing there but someone perfectly ordinary.

When Titus set the bags down in the kitchen, he offhandedly asked, "You are the Hand of the King, and therefore I realize you must be required to have many skills. Is cooking one of them?"

Was this...a conversation, at last? Seemed like it.

"Yes," Ignis offered, with another glance at prying Titus as he began cutting produce. "There was a joke about the Citadel, that I was Hand of the King only to the press and to foreign nations. To everyone in Insomnia, I'm more known as Mother of the King."

Titus gave a rather airy snort, as he kept a good distance back but lifted himself on his toes to curiously observe. Titus never came too close to Ignis, keeping well away and behind that veil, for both the sake of decency and politeness.

"But you and the Prince are the same age, no?"

"Almost."

"That's an unusual responsibility for you to have."

"Perhaps. I was sworn to Noct when I was six, so we've always been together. His mother died after his birth, so I believe Regis was looking for a surrogate. I've been cooking and cleaning and sewing up Noct's clothes for so long now that I suppose I don't realize how strange it may appear to those on the outside."

Titus was thoughtfully silent, as he tried to watch Ignis without appearing as if he was watching Ignis.

Looked happy enough, when Ignis took down plates and set the table, but stayed back until Ignis finally lifted his chin and said, "Sit."

Ignis was nervous around Titus, and Titus responded by keeping at a distance. Couldn't be like that forever, living together as they were, and so Ignis tried very hard then to appear unbothered and at ease, even though his heart raced when Titus sat down at the table before him.

He was having dinner with General Glauca. Quaint.

He was more nervous then about what the General would think of his cooking than he was at just being near the man.

But Titus stared away at Ignis, and merely said, "This is quite remarkable. You could be Chef of the King."

It was Ignis then who snorted, and almost smiled.

Almost, but not quite.

They didn't speak more that night, and when Titus tried to wash the dishes, Ignis quickly claimed the job, because the more he had to occupy his mind, the better. Perhaps astute Titus realized that, for he said that night, before he retired, "You may do whatever you wish in here. This is your home to do with as you will. Don't hesitate to move things around if it amuses you. I have no qualms."

Seemed to be Titus' way of saying, 'If you wish to be a housewife, then by all means.'

Was he Mother of the General now?

No; Wife of the General, thanks to Ardyn.

The following day, perhaps encouraged by their very slight attempt at conversation prior, Titus came home and asked Ignis, "Should you like a short tour of Gralea, before the weather gets too harsh?"

The weather seemed very harsh already, but Ignis nodded, for he was reluctant to refuse Titus anything he asked.

Luckily, Titus didn't press that advantage for anything inappropriate.

They set out, in the cold, and took to the metro. Not as frightening with Titus there, with a guide who spoke the language and could read the signs and knew the streets. Gralea wasn't very welcoming, no, but it was pretty. Lit up bright in the white of the snow, skyscrapers gleaming, colorful churches here and there, markets that were still so lively in spite of the bitter cold.

It was very surreal, walking about downtown Gralea in the pouring snow, Titus there at his side. Touring together once again, this time on the other side of the world, and it was Ignis who was being shown the sights.

He tried to pay attention, but his mind ever wandered to Insomnia.

Homesick.

Weeks dragged, December grew deep and dark, less and less sun every day, and often Ignis looked out the window and saw the heavy fog hanging low over the city. By then at least he was comfortable enough to make meals and take up cleaning, and Titus hadn't batted an eye when Ignis had moved the angle of the couch and coffee table. Titus was ever cooperative, and before he left in the morning asked Ignis what he needed, Ignis would give him a list, and Titus never failed to return later on with whatever Ignis had required.

Ignis had not yet accompanied Titus out on the weekend getaway, and now when Titus left on Friday, he always said, "I'll be back Sunday. Do not go outside until I return. You swear it to me?"

Always, Ignis just nodded, because he had no desire to.

Ignis didn't understand truly why Titus made him swear, at the time.

At least until the following week, which then marked three weeks since Ignis had actually left the flat. One more week until the New Year.

That Monday, Titus asked, when he came home, "Care to go out for a coffee?"

No doubt Titus was just trying to get Ignis out a little, to get him to engage and not lose his mind cooped up inside, and Ignis was glad for it and nodded.

He just hadn't anticipated what going outside now, for even ten minutes, actually entailed.

Titus had not been lying—true winter in Gralea was brutal. Unforgiving. Merciless.

Had never felt anything like it.

It had only been three weeks since last he had gone out, and he was astounded when he had stepped out the door that day with Titus and the weather had changed so drastically.

That cold. Hadn't known it could actually be so cold.

Titus had bundled Ignis up before they had set out, had forced him to wear three undershirts, three sets of thermal pants, four pairs of socks, two layers of thermal gloves under the mitts, and then Titus had wrapped a scarf over Ignis' neck above his coat collar, pulling it up and covering every bit of Ignis' face except for his eyes. Titus then took his glasses off and set them aside. Ignis had very much thought that the General was being dramatic and overprotective for the Marshal's sake, but it took one step outside that door to realize that wasn't the case.

Thirty seconds after stepping outside, Ignis' chest locked up, for the air was so mercilessly cold, and then his nose crackled as his nasal cavity froze. And then his eyelashes began to frost over, and Ignis had looked over at Titus in utter horror.

People lived here! It was absurd! No wonder everyone was so bloody miserable all the time.

Ignis could see then why Titus had been insistent on proper gear, and Ignis verily believed him then that people frequently died.

Titus stared at him, Titus' eyes also the only thing visible, and Titus' very pale eyes were quite pretty then, Ignis would admit, when his eyelashes were frosted over like that. Kept getting longer and longer, too, with every minute that passed, and when they were only two blocks down the street, Titus' lashes were so long that it looked quite like spindly white butterflies had landed upon them.

Titus glanced over at him, and said, "You thought I was being dramatic, didn't you?"

Ignis nodded, and Titus snorted.

When they made it to the café, Titus ushered him in through the double set of doors, and Ignis watched in fascination as Titus removed his scarf and hat and the frost on his eyelashes began melting. Titus was staring at Ignis quite as potently, and was no doubt observing the same.

When they sat a while later, Titus asked, "Can you see anything? Forgive me, but you can't wear those glasses here. Metal frames like yours will freeze to your skin."

Ugh—shuddered even thinking about it.

"I can see just well enough. It's passable. Just can't read signs very well at a short distance."

Titus looked at Ignis from across the table, and merely said, "Don't worry. In winter, I'll be your eyes."

Well, that was...

Sweet.

Ignis felt a somewhat alarming twinge of affection, and cast it forcibly aside.

To distract himself, Ignis clenched his coffee in his hands for warmth and looked to the window, as the heavy fog hung over the city like a grey veil, and uttered, "It's astounding to me that people can not only live here, but that such a major city is thriving. It looks exactly like Insomnia, more or less, and yet never could Insomnia operate in such weather. With a metro and all. It's remarkable."

Titus smiled, ever so slightly.

"The metro here would not be possible without Magitek technology. The permafrost would be impossible to build within. It was a risk they took, in my opinion, though I understand the desire for convenience. If there were to be a sudden and unexpected shift in temperature beyond the norm, or a few winters that were too mild, the city could very well sink down into the metro lines. That is why all the buildings have such high foundations. If they touch the ground, the permafrost begins to melt beneath, and the building will sink. It is only inevitable that the metro will cause trouble."

Ignis scoffed, and couldn't even begin to imagine how many years of logistics had gone into making a capital city in such a place.

Titus eyed Ignis, and then uttered, more softly, "But that is a problem neither of us will be here to deal with."

"Oh?" Ignis pried. "Are you leaving Gralea soon?"

"I shall leave when you do. I've long wished nothing more than to go home. I told the Chancellor long ago that upon the end of the war, I would retire. I am in the process now of training the Deputy High Commander to take over my post. In two months, he will be the new High Commander, and I'll just be a retired old soldier with no war to fight."

Ignis leaned forward just a bit in curiosity, and asked, "So you'll return to Lucis?"

Was he hopeful? No, no, certainly not, just curious. Titus was an odd man, and getting to know him was fascinating. That was all.

"My home is in the northern archipelago that was ceded during the treaty talks. So, I'll go home, but I suppose I will still be Imperial. No one up there cares if we're Imperial or Lucian. Long have my islands been isolated. As far as anyone there was concerned, we were essentially our own country. Of course, this was long ago. Things may have changed since then."

Ignis was ever curious, but didn't ask what had led Titus to leave. He had pressed enough for one day.

He wanted desperately to speak to Titus, because he was so miserably lonely, and felt so painfully isolated. But he was afraid of annoying Titus, of pushing him farther away than he already was, of isolating himself ever more. Titus hadn't asked for this any more than Ignis had, and was likely only performing his duty by engaging Ignis at all. No need to cling to Titus and drive him up the wall.

But oh, lying in bed alone night after night, knowing that he would wake up in the morning with no one familiar on the other side of the door—

Couldn't stand it.

They went back home, after bundling up once more, and that night Ignis could find no rest at all. Titus speaking of his old Lucian islands had brought up that yearning for home, for country.

The homesickness was twisting, writhing, burning in his chest like a knife, and then the loneliness beneath was making it worse. So many people in this massive city, and yet Ignis felt isolated, the only man standing, and no matter how many times he tossed and turned he just couldn't sleep.

Couldn't.

The loneliness was overwhelming.

Ignis wasn't a social butterfly, no, but no one could endure such isolation for prolonged periods of time without cracking.

Ignis cracked then.

He swung his legs over the bed, stood up, and snuck into the dark hall. Titus' door was right there, and Ignis lingered before it for a good long while, feeling such a fool. He knew it may have been an incredible crossing of boundaries, that it was highly inappropriate, but legally speaking he was married to this man and therefore had some right to be in the same bed.

He needed someone, anyone, because if he couldn't feel someone next to him then he was absolutely going to lose his mind.

With that steeling of his will, he stepped across the hall and pushed open the door.

The scent of Titus was already comforting, in that vulnerable state in which he found himself.

A larger bedroom than his own. Dim lights from the city streaming in through the thick curtain. Titus was sleeping soundly, and Ignis gave in to his loneliness, inhaled for courage, and then crept over to sleeping Titus' bed. He lifted the blanket and crawled in, and at the shift of the mattress Titus inhaled sharply and came to consciousness.

Didn't speak at all, however, head turning and watching very silently as Ignis squirmed in beside of him and burrowed under the covers, pressing his face into Titus' shoulder. Didn't have the courage to look up at Titus, ashamed as he was, but, oh, to not be alone then was wondrous. Would have taken anyone, anyone at all, and Titus was far beyond comforting at that point.

A very long stillness, and then Titus suddenly lifted his arm, rested it beneath Ignis' head, and held him around the shoulder.

Ignis took the silent offer of support, and pressed his face into Titus' very warm breast. A heartbeat, the feel of someone else, the very faint scent of Titus' deep and subtle cologne and soap. Everything he very much needed in that moment, to know that someone else was actually there, and perhaps Titus was lonely, too, for he tilted his head ever so slightly so that his chin was resting atop Ignis' head.

A while later, when sleep mercifully crept up, Titus suddenly asked, in a whisper, "Homesick?'

Painfully so.

Ignis nodded, and Titus made a deep noise in his chest.

Shortly after, as Ignis drifted, Titus murmured, in a voice that shook, "Me, too."

Hurt.

Home was so far away, to the both of them.