Chapter 3
Invitation to the Dance
Regis was a very serious King, but one of his favorite little pastimes happened to be the royal galas he threw once a year.
Ignis was always fully expected to attend, along with Noctis and Gladiolus, and dutifully played his part year by year to make Regis happy. Such a simple thing, and Regis so enjoyed it; what wasn't to love? Ignis was right at home at the galas, though Noctis squirmed and writhed and always managed to escape before they ended.
Regis pulled no stops, went all out, and it was always a remarkably grand affair, right up Ignis' alley. Bands and waltzes and formal wear, high society, poise and elegance, aristocrats dressed to the absolute nines.
Gladio didn't hate them as Noct did, but certainly didn't love them as Ignis did. He rather sort of drifted about, enjoying the champagne and meeting new girls.
This year, Ignis certainly had a new target in mind.
Titus naturally attended all galas, as Cor did, and usually, from what Ignis recalled, spent his time lurking about in corners drinking. Titus was not a social butterfly, put there by necessity and not desire, and usually could be found chatting with one of the many Glaives stationed there for security.
This year, Titus would have new company.
A week before the gala, when the leaves were beginning to change color in the fall wind, Regis had called Ignis into the throne room. When Ignis arrived, no one else was there aside from Clarus, and Regis stood up from the bench near the door and wobbled over.
A clap on Ignis' shoulder, as Regis greeted him.
"All well, Ignis?"
"Indeed, sire," Ignis affirmed, bowing respectfully to both Regis and Clarus and waiting for his assignment.
But no assignment seemed to come.
Rather, Regis looked Ignis up and down, and then very abruptly asked, "How is Noctis behaving lately?"
Ignis knew Regis wanted honesty, but could never really bring himself to say, 'Like a little barbarian', and so instead Ignis merely supplied, "He's going through a phase."
Regis shook his head a bit, knowing full well what that meant, and quickly asked, "But he's treating you well, I hope?"
"Of course."
Usually.
...occasionally.
These days, it seemed Noctis resented Ignis' constant presence more than anything, and often tossed out words that were perhaps far more hurtful than Noctis meant them to be. In spite of it all, Ignis adored Noctis, always would, and held nothing against him.
Regis, as usual, seemed to know everything, and lifted his chin to stare Ignis down.
"Ignis, you do too much for my son. I want you to begin steadily scaling back your care for him. Too long have I unfairly put you into the role of his mother. You're both men, now; time for you to begin thinking about having your own life away from my son. If it comes to it, I'll procure him a maid, but I don't want to see you over there more than once a week. Can you agree to that?"
Ignis' heart hammered, his lips pursed and his brow crinkled, because Noctis was his entire life and without seeing him every day Ignis wasn't sure how there could ever be a life.
Ignis asked, "Whatever would I do with myself, Highness?"
Regis' smile devolved into a leer, and Ignis knew he was up to something.
"Oh, come now, Ignis. You're young and handsome. Having a life away from my son will be no problem at all. Perhaps you may soon find your time occupied by someone else. However could you go on dates and find your future spouse if you're tied down cooking and cleaning for my son?"
Oh—
Clarus piped up at last, to tease, "Those skills could soon be in high demand in some other household."
Right away, Ignis knew Regis and Clarus were plotting something, and right away, Ignis knew he had absolutely no problem with that whatsoever. At least, that was, if they were doing what Ignis thought they were doing.
Ignis lidded his eyes and looked back and forth between them, letting them know that he was on to them, and he merely drawled, "Is that so?"
"It is," Clarus assured. "From what I've seen, you seem to have a small handful of admirers. Perhaps without Noctis there to distract you, you may actually notice one of them. Some are...closer to home than others."
Regis' nostrils flared as he tried so hard to suppress his widening smirk.
Ignis snorted and very nearly rolled his eyes, and could only play along by uttering, "Indeed! It seems as if I don't need to lift a hand. I have the strangest sensation that others are doing that for me."
Clarus barked a laugh, nudged Regis' side, and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
They knew, Ignis knew that they knew, and they knew that Ignis knew that they knew.
Grand! More fun that way, perhaps, but Ignis wasn't going to actually say it aloud, and they seemed equally as reluctant.
Regis smiled away at Ignis, and very suddenly asked, "Are you looking forward to the gala this year, Ignis?"
"As always, your Majesty."
Regis lifted his chin, glanced back at Clarus, seemed to be rather sly in that moment, and Ignis knew for certain that Regis was up to something when he nodded his head and said, very vaguely, "This year will be special. Make sure my son dresses nicely, if you please, Ignis. May I also suggest that you shine yourself up as well."
Ignis lifted his brows and asked, "Any particular reason, Highness?"
"Oh, you know," Regis airily evaded. "You never know what will happen at these sort of things. Best to be prepared. Never hurts a man to look his best."
"Indeed, sire."
"Good day, Ignis."
"Good day, your Majesty."
Regis smirked heavily and hobbled away, Clarus leering over at Ignis as he passed, and when they were gone Ignis rolled his eyes, shook his head, and sighed.
Could only imagine what they were up to, but knew for certain he would absolutely heed Regis' 'advice'. Best not to be caught off guard, particularly when he had had fair warning in advance.
Ignis had nice clothing all around, yes, but not nice clothing. Not 'aristocrat dressed to the nines' clothing. Not suits like council that cost mountains of money. Nothing good enough for Regis to consider 'nice'.
Ugh. Time to go to the tailor.
One week was not much time in the tailoring world, however, and so Ignis set off immediately after leaving the throne room, hoping he wasn't too late. Hoped his position would expedite the process. Ignis hopped in his car, briefly pulling out his phone to check his bank funds, and wondered if he could charge the suit onto royal credit, since, after all, it had been Regis' idea.
Surely.
He drove to the tailor Noctis used, where at least they knew who Ignis was, he was ushered very quickly into the back room, and Ignis explained very briefly what he needed and for what occasion. As it often was for those in positions of power, the process was streamlined and rather painless, as Ignis flipped through a magazine and pointed out things he liked.
The tailor, good enough for Noctis and Regis, assured him it could be done in time.
Ignis put his trust into the man, and then focused on other aspects. The suit, after all, would mean little if nothing else fell into place.
But the more Ignis thought about it, as he bought expensive new shoes with red bottoms, he wondered why on earth he had to dress nicely in the first place, when Titus always ever just wore his Kingsglaive uniform to the gala. Because, naturally, whatever Regis was plotting would involve Titus.
Seemed hardly fair, and Noctis was displeased when Ignis informed him that he would be held to a much higher dress code this year. To calm Noctis' ire, a bit, Ignis did relay that he too had been required to class it up.
Noctis rolled his eyes, and griped, "Man—! This is gonna suck."
"Speak for yourself," Ignis said, and Noct scoffed.
Noctis of course thought that Ignis was just excited to dress up, because Ignis loved the galas, and Ignis didn't try to enlighten him.
Well, the shoes were sorted, Noct was sorted. The suit was mostly sorted.
Now—what about those glasses?
Ignis was still wearing his old childhood glasses. Black, with thick round frames. Homely, certainly, but Ignis had never bothered to change them because he was accustomed to them and simply wasn't used to catching anyone's attention. It struck him then, out of nowhere, how uncomely he must have looked, flirting there in the hall with Titus while wearing such gawky glasses.
Ignis set out the next day in the search of new frames.
An hour or so of perusing, with input from the lady at the shop, and Ignis finally settled on a far more flattering pair of rectangular spectacles, with thin wire framing on top and none on the bottom. Far more graceful, far more elegant, far more mature. According to the lady in the shop he looked 'perfectly handsome' and he would take her word on that, for handsome wasn't an adjective he really attached to himself, but he did look far better, and that was all that mattered.
Now...
What in the world to do with his hair.
That was honestly the hardest part. He sat down in his apartment at night in front of his mirror, comb and hairspray and gel in front of him, and tried desperately to find a way to sweep his bangs out of his face in a manner that didn't look silly. That took a long while. Five days, in fact, of frustration and defeat before he finally managed to get his hair out of his face and upwards. Noctis' was far more dramatic, granted, far more eye-catching, but Ignis wasn't trying to get the world's attention. Just one man's, and having his forehead visible was just good enough for Ignis.
He practiced that hairstyle several more times, and the day before the gala, he took it to Noct as he meant to go pick up his suit.
Noct approved, and that gave Ignis the confidence he needed to pull it all together.
A restless night, and then dawn came, and so did the gala.
He spent the entire day at Noctis' apartment, because they had agreed to help each other get ready. Ignis was cheerful for more than one reason; this was the first time he and Noct had spent the entire day together in a long while, and that Noctis wasn't taking out his anger on Ignis was a plus.
Noctis teased him playfully as they dressed, and that raised Ignis' spirits through the roof.
The suit was perfect, precisely what he had hoped for. Not quite pure black, rather an exceptionally dark grey, lustrous, blue and pink threads scarcely visible and woven all throughout. Black and silver cufflinks, with Crownsguard markings. The tie was silk, checkered pink and blue with gold bordering.
Perfect.
Not too somber, but not too flashy. Absolutely right for a wallflower that needed to blend in at a slightly higher level.
He straightened his jacket, adjusted his cuffs, and finally asked, "How do I look?"
Noctis, in a rare moment these days, smiled, and said, "You look real good, Specs. Too good, actually. You weren't supposed to show me up. Thought we had an understanding."
Ignis snorted, as they observed themselves side by side in the mirror, and then before long it was time go.
Ignis was jittery, nervous, but for entirely different reasons than Noct was, and they teased each other as they descended the stairwell to keep their nerves calm. The car was running down below, where Cor was standing upon the sidewalk, dutifully waiting.
As they approached, Cor looked Ignis up and down, seemed startled, and Ignis snorted because it was very clear that for just a moment Cor hadn't recognized him. When Cor realized who he was looking at, he opened the car door for them both, and uttered, as Ignis slid in last, "Ignis. You look nice."
"Thank you, Marshal."
Such words before would have sent Ignis into a lovesick fit, and now Ignis could only sit in the car and wait impatiently to see Titus. Cor kept glancing at Ignis in the rearview mirror, and if this had been just a year ago, Ignis would have been precisely where he wanted to be.
It wasn't a long drive, but felt like eternity, and Ignis was so excited to be there at the gala that he didn't even wait for Cor to come around and open the door, bursting out and ready to mingle. Ignis was positively bristling, but had the sense to wait for Noctis, lest Noctis be put into a mood too soon.
Cor shut the door after Noctis exited, lingered for a moment, and then he said, blandly, "Ignis, keep the Prince out of trouble."
Noctis looked back at Cor, and said, "Hey! From the look of Specs, I'm gonna have to keep him outta trouble."
Cor pursed his lips, and Ignis could have sworn that Cor looked momentarily irritated, uneasy, but there was little time to dwell on it when Noctis started going up the stone steps. Ignis followed, though he did glance back at Cor, because at some level he still held feelings for the man, and probably always would.
Cor lifted his chin in acknowledgment, and then stepped back inside the vehicle to go park it.
That burning thrill of anticipation.
Hundreds of people all around, lights and glamour and music and chatter, and Ignis scanned the room for Titus. Didn't see him immediately, but there were still four separate rooms to explore, and Gladio somehow found them amongst the throng.
Gladio clapped Ignis' shoulder and said, predictably, "Whoa! You look good, Iggy! Damn! You look totally different. I can't believe it."
Compliments were always nice, and Ignis took it happily, because he didn't receive them very often, and when he did, they of course always came from Gladio.
Noctis and Gladio took to chatting, and Ignis slunk away, going straight for the champagne while keeping an eye out for Titus.
Had yet to come across him, even in the third room, but he did spy Titus' Glaives, and well...
Feeling perhaps a bit devious, Ignis focused and paid far more attention to the Glaives, noting their location and appearance. Took them in, and contemplated. They were Titus' men, after all, and therefore in some manner were a part of Titus himself. Seemed important, suddenly, to get to know them. Each Glaive could, in theory, possess a little tidbit of information that could have helped Ignis along on his journey to wrangling their Captain.
Ignis had noted three of them that night, one at each door and one at the stairwell, and Ignis eyed them all in turn and mapped out his plan of war.
Everyone was dancing, chatting, drinking, as they always were, and his wallflower status sometimes worked perfectly well to Ignis' advantage, for no one even seemed to notice him at all as he wound through the crowd towards that first stationary Glaive, the one guarding the main entrance.
Ignis was trying to be stealthy because he didn't really want Titus seeing him attempting to get cozy with his men. Perhaps that would have crossed some line in Titus' mind, however cooperative Titus had been lately.
Could certainly say, however, that Titus' men were extremely professional, as he imagined a Glaive would be. Muscular and powerful, stoic, appearing to be hardly more than statues, and Ignis picked the one by the front door to be his first victim because of the lot he appeared to be the most approachable.
Dark hair, a little messy, dark skin, very still and very focused, very intimidating in appearance, and yet his eyes weren't quite so hard, and so Ignis crept over, quietly, and when he was within earshot, he came into the Glaive's sight and said, amicably, "Good evening, Glaive. How's the night treating you?"
A glance over, a loosening of that intense posture, and sure enough, Ignis' senses were right, because the Glaive immediately smiled and seemed quite friendly, brow lifting and face quite open.
"Evening. It's been a riot so far, like always. I love watching people dance."
Ignis leaned up against the wall, glass held in hand, and was quick to reply, "Indeed. Even if you can't join in?"
A glance around, perhaps keeping an eye out for his boss (as Ignis was), and the Glaive snorted a bit to retort, rather playfully, "Are you asking me for a dance?"
Ignis smiled then, too, and loosened up as much as the Glaive. Well, then. Off to a lovely start. Maybe these men weren't so frightening as their appearance gave off, and that gave Ignis a little hope about Titus as well. Titus had a personality, of course he did, and Ignis was trying very hard to excavate it but had barely chipped the surface.
These men could help out, in the right time.
But not tonight. Tonight was just to meet them, put himself out there, let the Glaives know he existed.
Ignis merely raised his brow and quipped, drolly, "Forgive me, but I don't think even I could teach you a waltz quickly enough for tonight."
The Glaive shot back, gently, "Who says I can't waltz? Bet I could show you a thing or two."
Indeed!
Liked this Glaive, and Ignis stood up straight then and stuck out his hand in greeting. "Ignis. It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The hand was taken without hesitation, firmly, and the Glaive's voice was deeper, warmer, when he replied, "Pelna. Pleasure's all mine."
Ignis glanced around once more, and asked, as casually as he could, "Have you seen your Captain about?"
The Glaive shook his head.
"Nah. Can't say I have. He usually comes straight to us to give us the old 'don't screw up or I'll break your legs' speech, but... Haven't seen him yet."
Ignis gawked, and repeated, with a scoff, "Break your legs?"
The Glaive called Pelna smiled, easily, and quipped, "Ah, yeah. That's the Captain's favorite threat. 'Pelna! Don't take your eyes off this gate or I'll break your legs!' 'Nyx, disobey another order and next time I swear I'll break your legs.' 'Libertus, if you don't get over yourself and start warping, I'm gonna break your legs.' It's his favorite. And it works, too, because he sure as hell really would do it. Pretty sure he's broken at least three separate Glaive legs over the years, if the rumors are true, anyway."
Ignis knew his eyes were wide, must have looked aghast, because Pelna laughed.
Perhaps that should been a red flag, but Ignis was not a disobedient Glaive, and didn't really fear too much for his own legs. The violence behind it should have been more disconcerting, but, ah, Ignis was already smitten and if Titus was out there breaking legs then surely those legs deserved to be broken, for Titus was a highly professional man.
Ignis got over his shock, smiled, and cattily teased, "Well, then! I best be off, so you can put your eyes back on that door. Wouldn't want your legs to be broken."
"Thanks, pal," Pelna chirped, and Ignis raised his glass to him and set off.
Another glance about for Titus, another all clear, and the next Glaive Ignis picked was the one by the stairwell, because he had long since seen Ignis and Pelna conversing and had looked quite interested. This Glaive, Ignis knew, if only by sight. Had never spoken directly to him. Didn't seem quite as approachable as Pelna, no, not as friendly, not as easy-going, and yet despite being very intimidating Ignis was already on his way over.
The Glaive saw him coming, straightened up perfectly, and hardened his face. Didn't seem to want Ignis speaking to him, but he wasn't getting out of it.
Ignis inhaled for his nerves, came up, and, just as he had prior, said, lowly, "Evening. Exciting night so far?"
A long silence, as piercing eyes bored into his own, and Ignis shifted his weight just a bit under that very intense stare. What a gaze! As unnerving and hypnotizing as Cor's cold, hard stare. Inescapable.
Felt like eternity before the Glaive shifted a little and finally responded, rather monotonously, "Exciting enough for you all."
Ah.
"I know you," Ignis suddenly said, and the Glaive's brow lifted up as if he were surprised somehow.
Oh, yes, Ignis knew this man, because this was the Glaive that Titus entrusted to drive Noctis. It was this very Glaive that had said something to make Titus smile that day, so perhaps Ignis could even go so far as to say that it was because of this man that Ignis had ever fallen for Titus in the first place.
He certainly bore a little responsibility.
So even if the Glaive wasn't smiling, wasn't friendly, Ignis held out his hand.
"Ignis Scientia. Pleasure."
The Glaive glanced at his hand, back up, and there was a long, awful hesitation before he finally reached out and took the offered greeting.
"I know who you are," was the droll response, and although the words weren't very amicable, the handshake was strong and steady.
Ignis held fast to that hand, though, when the Glaive tried to pull back, and there was a very confused look, and maybe Ignis thought that the Glaive looked suddenly nervous.
To explain, Ignis pried, smoothly, "Your name?"
A twitch of the Glaive's face, and finally, if only to free his hand, the Glaive finally murmured, softly, "Nyx Ulric."
"There!" Ignis said, airily, as he released the Glaive's hand. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"
No response.
Ignis looked Nyx up and down, inadvertently making him squirm, and it was quite clear for Ignis to see that Nyx was far from a people person. Looked very uncomfortable being approached and spoken to, and so Ignis tried to put him at ease a bit by randomly asking, "Where are you from?"
It was obvious enough in his appearance that Nyx was an immigrant, in his braids and motifs and tattoos.
Nyx shifted, shuffled, clearly wanted to be left alone, but finally he grunted, "Galahd."
Ignis took pity on Nyx, didn't want to annoy him, and so said, "I've heard it's lovely. I regret the manner in which it may have happened, but we're glad to have you here."
With that, he meant to leave, but Nyx scoffed and whispered, "Maybe you could tell everyone else that."
Ignis locked eyes with Nyx, and said, with no lack of honesty, "I will."
Nyx stared long and hard at him, as if surprised, and Ignis carried on before he gave the poor man a coronary.
Well, then. Two down, one to go.
Yet another sweep for mysteriously missing Titus, yet another all clear.
Ignis had saved the Glaive by the back door for last because he seemed to be the most intimidating of the bunch, and Ignis was glad that Pelna and Nyx had given him a little courage, because otherwise he would never have had the gall to walk up to that imposing man. It wasn't that the Glaive looked spiteful or unfriendly, exactly. Rather that every time Ignis was in sight, the Glaive would pin him down with his eyes, and the stare made Ignis uncomfortable.
Ignis finished off his glass of champagne, grabbed up one more from a tray as he slunk over, and the Glaive had long since seen him coming, splaying and straightening up and pushing his chest out.
And Ignis was fairly certain that he wasn't trying to intimidate him.
When the Glaive saw Ignis coming right for him, he looked around the room, and Ignis knew that he was also looking for Titus. Seemed no one wanted Titus to catch them slacking. Well, who could blame them? Ignis, for his part, very much liked his femurs in one unbroken piece.
Suddenly, Ignis and the Glaive were face to face.
"Wow!" the Glaive said, before Ignis could even try to speak. "Look at you! You shined right up."
Oh? Were they acquainted as well? Did seem a bit familiar, but Ignis could never have placed it.
Ignis stuck his hand out, it was taken with no hesitation, and this intimidating Glaive turned out to be the, ah...friendliest of the lot.
"Ignis."
"Luche Lazarus, at your service."
This time, Ignis was certainly in over his head, but that was because this time it was the Glaive refusing to release Ignis' hand. Ignis, startled and overwhelmed, just tried to not panic, lips parted and barely breathing, as the Glaive smirked at him and tried to stare him down.
Oh, dear—
Thought perhaps his cheeks may have been a bit pink by then, when the Glaive broke into a rather dashing smile, squeezed his hand, raised it to place a light kiss atop his glove, and then at last released him, but not before murmuring, quietly, "I think I may have fallen asleep. You must be a dream, Ignis."
A rush of adrenaline, a shift of his weight, a surge of ego and excitement, and for a moment, just one moment, Ignis forgot that he had come to this man for Titus. Forgot Titus altogether, in fact, when it became clear to him that he was being seen. Wasn't used to that. He was fighting so hard to get Titus to even notice him that it was absolutely entrancing for someone else to be the one striving for his attention. No one ever had. Not once.
Ignis found himself throwing out his hip then, shoulders low and chin dipped, and the Glaive called Luche had leaned forward, being the one to instigate conversation this time around.
"What brings you all the way to the back door? Trying to escape your own gala? Should I pretend I didn't see you?"
Not his gala, not by any means, but he suddenly had the ridiculous thought that he may have wanted to escape after all, sneaking out with this very handsome stranger in tow. Felt like flirting then, perhaps because he was still quite young, after all, and an obsession with Titus did not a marriage make.
Titus still had never really responded outright to Ignis' flirtations, aside from expanding egotistically.
So Ignis lowered his voice into a rumble, and crooned, "No escape necessary. I merely came to see what sort of men haunt a back door during a royal gala."
Luche raised his chin, crossed his arms behind his back once more, was clearly expanding to his full size in order to impress, and he asked, "I see. Has your curiosity been satisfied?"
Honestly?
"No," Ignis replied, looking Luche up and down as he flexed, because suddenly he was very curious indeed.
Luche splayed his legs a bit, eyes locked onto Ignis like a hunting cat, and Luche turned on heavy charm by lowering his soft voice and murmuring, "I'm pleased to finally know your name. I love my Citadel shifts, because I always look forward to seeing your pretty face here and there. Always makes my day. Has for years."
Absolutely flattered.
And, now that he mentioned it, Ignis did have a nagging sense of familiarity. Must have come from being stared at near the doors.
Ignis threw Luche a bone, by teasing sultrily, "I knew you looked familiar. You really do haunt doors."
Luche smirked so hard he might have pulled a muscle, so pleased with himself that Ignis couldn't help but snort.
Riling egos was Ignis' favorite pastime.
Luche's very sharp cheeks cast shadows, and as Ignis was eyeballing them, he spied a little tattoo on Luche's neck, similar to Nyx's.
Immediately, Ignis asked, "Where are you from, Luche?"
"Galahd," Luche responded, leaning forward a bit.
Ignis cast a glance over his shoulder towards the stairwell, where Nyx stood, and then observed Luche's short hair.
"You seem to lack a bit of the edge of your countryman."
Luche scoffed, seemed emboldened by Ignis' tease, and raised a hand up to smooth back his slicked hair, saying, as cattily as Ignis ever could, "What can I say? I'm susceptible to peer pressure."
Luche's eyes shot up then above Ignis' head, scanning the room quickly for his superior, and Ignis very much remembered that he was here to flirt with Titus, not his Glaive. He used the opportunity to step back and say, "Alas, as much as I regret leaving your charming presence, duty calls. I must find my sovereign, and keep you from having your legs broken."
Luche gave a short laugh, and said, as he swept dramatically into a bow and reached out to take Ignis' hand, "The Captain would never touch my legs. I'm too important. Even if he would never say it."
Certainly lacked no ego, this one.
Luche raised Ignis' hand once more, kissed the top of it again, and let Ignis go.
As Ignis walked away, Luche called, "Come see me anytime! Here, or otherwise."
Noted.
Another few steps, and then Luche called, louder to be heard over the crowd, "Hey! Can I have your number?"
Ignis looked over his shoulder, smiled brightly, gave Luche an intentional look over, and walked away.
Ignis did enjoy being a tease.
Good to know that should this venture with Titus fall through, at least someone out there in the vast world knew Ignis existed. Comforting.
So far, this night was positively excellent. Everything was going so well, and Ignis was feeling very confident indeed, very sure of himself. He was smiling away by the time he rejoined Noct and Gladio, and by then the gala had been going on for nearly an hour and it was clear that the lot of them had already had their fair share of champagne.
Gladio's cheeks were quite red, and Ignis was certainly feeling liquid courage.
He kept on searching for Titus, and yet...
Never could find him. Saw Regis and Clarus here and there, greeting everyone and sweeping through each room. Saw Cor haunting the shadows in corners from time to time. Saw Monica happily chatting away, Dustin at her side.
But no Titus.
Ignis wasn't worried; Regis had a card up his sleeve.
Ignis sometimes wandered off from Gladio's side and over to Monica, then to Pelna, then to Monica again, and Gladio seemed torn between following Iris with his gaze and then following Ignis. Back and forth, back and forth, as Gladio protectively watched his two little 'sisters' equally.
Two hours in, and once more Ignis was huddled up with Noct and Gladio, and it was then, at last, that Titus suddenly appeared from absolute nowhere.
Everyone was dancing then, as the band played a popular waltz, and a sudden movement in his peripheral caught his attention.
He turned his head, and felt the rush of adrenaline.
Ignis jumped a little and straightened up when he saw Titus suddenly striding towards them, very intently, and Ignis tried to appear unfazed then to save face. Gladio stood at attention as well, as he had been taught, but pompous and defiant Noctis just stayed slouched and didn't bother giving Titus the decency of good posture.
Ignis swallowed.
He had been looking very forward to this, but found himself faltering then, his boldness fled, his nerves were suddenly frazzled, his certainty vanished, and all because Titus wasn't wearing his Kingsglaive uniform as he had every other year. Ignis choked, because Titus was suddenly in a suit.
Oh, dear—
Ignis knew his face was extremely red, but he could very easily blame that on the copious amounts of champagne.
Apparently, Titus had also received orders from the King to dress himself up, and, like Ignis, Titus had gone all out, because of course Titus had such high standards to live up to.
It was so strange to see a warrior dressed like a noble. The suit Titus wore was simple in design, much like the ones Clarus wore on such occasions. Obsidian, a bit more lustrous yet than Ignis', clean-cut and perhaps just slightly too big, for Titus to retain better range of motion in the event of some sudden battle. For Titus, naturally, was always prepared. No boots this time; dress shoes shined up like black mirrors, but Titus' medals and accolades were yet there upon his breast. The only bit of Titus' suit with any color was the tie, bright white and immaculately knotted.
Ignis glanced briefly down at his own tie, and realized his knot wasn't nearly as well formed.
Eh—too late to do anything about it.
Titus' messy hair was combed neatly down, his hands were without gloves for the first time Ignis had seen. Titus hadn't shaved though; perhaps that would have simply been going a step too far, and indeed it would have been hard to picture the Captain without his ever-present heavy stubble.
Titus looked regal; a far cry from a man out there breaking his Glaives' legs.
When Titus came up to them and gave a very curt bow, Ignis was so nervous that when he bowed in turn it was so deep and fast that he nearly tumbled forward onto his face, and he knew that everyone had seen it because Gladio snorted.
Another thing that Ignis could, mercifully, blame on the champagne.
Titus lidded his eyes, face quite droll, and he reached out to take the glass from Ignis' hand, playfully saying, in that soft voice that was so mismatched with that man, "Perhaps you've had enough."
Noct smirked, and Ignis gave a weak laugh, trying to pretend that he wasn't about to have an aneurysm.
Titus straightened up, put on his business face, and looked the lot of them over in turn, before he finally said, "King Regis would like for me to inform you boys that he is extremely disappointed that none of you are waltzing right now, when this gala was held on your behalf."
Titus was staring Noctis down, and Noctis was suddenly looking anywhere but at Titus, shuffling awkwardly and no longer looking arrogant. Gladio's cheeks were a bit pink.
Noctis scratched the back of his head in nervousness, and griped, "Since when is this for our behalf? Thought the old man only did this for himself. Like every other year."
Gladio and Ignis were wisely silent.
Titus didn't look away, those piercing eyes unblinking, and he merely replied, "Should his Highness have bothered reading the fine print this year, he would have seen that this gala was dedicated to the graduation of Crownsguard training for Scientia and Amicitia, and also for the beginning of your Highness' warping training. It was clearly there, for all to read."
Sounded like an excuse Regis had pulled from thin air at the last moment.
Noctis scoffed, still unable to meet Titus' gaze, and then he grumbled, "Well—! I didn't ask for that."
Titus continued to stare Noctis down into filth, without wavering.
"Whether you asked for it or not is inconsequential, for it's already done. Now. The King wants a waltz from you. I hope for your sake you've actually been showing up to your compulsory dancing classes. I suggest you find a partner, immediately. As in yesterday, because in five minutes the King will be toasting the dance in your honor." Turning his eyes to Gladio, Titus commanded, "That goes for you, too, Shield. Hope you can dance as well as you can fight."
Gladio and Noctis looked horrified, as if they could very well have keeled over, and the daze of tipsiness had very much vanished under the chill of dread, as Ignis awaited his turn for a lecture.
Noctis glanced around the room, sensed finality and no escape, and looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and die.
Before Titus could lay into Ignis, Noctis looked over at him, seeking an easy out, and quickly mumbled, "Specs! You came with me to those classes, man—be a pal and be my partner again, won't ya?"
"Don't think so," Gladio hissed, as he too sought escape, "That's not fair! It should be my turn! I can't dance—I'll make a fool of myself without him."
Ignis had no chance to answer, for Titus smirked and drawled, quickly, "Not a chance. You're not off the hook that easily. Besides, Regis has already found a partner for Ignis. You two, however, are on your own. Get to it. Now. You now have four minutes."
Noctis and Gladio turned their eyes to Ignis accusatively, and all Ignis could do was wave his hands in the air in defeat and shrug a shoulder.
Wasn't his fault!
Feeling the pressure and horrified, Noctis and Gladio immediately began scanning the crowd, searching for familiar faces that they would feel less awful humiliating themselves with. Gladio got lucky—he found Iris in a second and pounced on her before Noctis could. Noctis spat a curse, popped up on his toes, and looked close to tears when he saw no one he knew well enough for that.
Ignis felt so sorry for Noctis then that he risked looking at Titus and asked, softly, "Please, Captain, will his Majesty not reconsider? Noct is...not so graceful. Socially just as much."
"Indeed," Titus murmured, as he watched Noctis panicking, and yet seemed unmoved. "That is the point. Noctis has been neglecting his duties to lay them upon you, and his Majesty has not been blind to it. That is why you have a partner set, and they do not. You will not be left embarrassed in front of the court you strive so hard to please. Let this be his warning."
Well. That was nice to hear, although it didn't make him feel any less for Noctis.
As Noctis ran through the crowd in a fright, hissing, 'Where the hell is Monica?', Ignis finally thought to ask, anxiously, "May I ask who my partner is to be, sir?"
Considering the way Regis and Clarus always leered at him these days, Ignis was fairly certain that he already knew, and Titus probably knew that, as well.
But Titus just stared him down, and said, softly, "Let's leave it a surprise, shall we? More fun that way. Go to the front and wait for Noctis. The King will give his speech shortly."
Ignis was very certain then, and instead of being elated as he was so certain he would be, he was petrified, nervous and self-conscious, because Titus was so handsome and regal in that moment that Ignis would have felt an absolute fool standing arm in arm with him.
Of all times to doubt himself.
With little choice, Ignis bowed at the waist and obeyed, heart hammering and so dizzy with adrenaline that he was surprised he even managed to make it through the crowd at all. When he reached the grand floor, he looked over and saw Gladio waiting there, Iris bouncing on her heels at his side, and felt relieved for at least him. At least Gladio didn't have cause to die of a panic attack, even if his waltzing partner was an eleven-year-old.
Iris leaned over, waved cheerily to Ignis, who waved in turn and tried to quell his twisting stomach.
What would everyone think, Titus so well put together, all those medals on his breast, as Ignis was now absolutely certain that his tie was, in fact, a mess? Shameful!
Noctis came forward minutes later, at the very last second, and Ignis looked over to see who he had managed to snare. Noctis' face was blazing red, his posture stiff and nervous, and that was because the girl at Noctis' side was one Ignis had never seen before, and it was likely Noctis never had either. Had been desperate, no doubt, on the verge as time ran out, and had just grabbed the nearest person.
Poor thing.
As for himself...
His partner had yet to come forward, and Ignis held his breath as Regis stood at the head of the dance floor, Clarus and Titus on either side of him.
Titus took to staring Ignis down this time, and Ignis squirmed because he was so worried that Titus was also noticing Ignis' tie, that Ignis' shoes weren't as glossy as Titus', that perhaps the suit Ignis had found perfect earlier in the day now just didn't seem good enough.
It took a moment for Ignis to realize that Regis was speaking, giving his formal little speech, and Ignis tried to pay attention, he really did, but it was impossible when Titus just wouldn't release him from that gaze.
...did Titus like the new glasses?
"—may their futures be bright!"
A jolt, a rush of fear, as Gladio began squirming as much as Ignis.
With that, Regis lifted his glass, the crowd followed suit, and the music started.
Oh, no—
Time to take position, and Iris giddily led Gladio out onto the floor, as Noctis far less eagerly led the girl he had grabbed, and she looked quite terrified, too, as Gladio did. Terror all around, it seemed, and Ignis glanced back up, but Titus was gone. It was Regis then who caught Ignis' eye, and Regis' face was very sly indeed when he gave Ignis a smile.
Regis then took to observing Noctis, and Ignis thought he might have winced a bit.
Noctis, bless him, tried his best, and Ignis could only watch as he tried to start leading, glancing over very frequently at Gladio, but probably only because he was hoping that Gladio was worse than he was. And Gladio was, but only a little, and Iris was so cute that no one would have cared at all anyway. Noctis, as the Prince, was held to much higher standards.
A movement at his side, and, at long last, someone came up to Ignis and extended their hand.
Ignis looked over, and saw there precisely who he had expected.
Titus, hand held out and brow quite high.
Ignis gawked at Titus' hand, all boldness having long since fled him, and he must have looked quite taken aback, quite dumb, for Titus snorted, softly.
Titus whispered, for only him to hear, "Apologies if I am not the partner you had hoped for. I'm under orders."
It was clear in Titus' voice that he was very well aware that he was, in fact, the partner Ignis had hoped for, and Titus must have known why Ignis was panicking. Hard to miss an arrogant man, and Titus was quite full of ego in that moment, lips barely able to keep from forming a smirk.
Ignis went from pale to redder than Noctis in a second, and he didn't know why he looked up then and turned his eyes once more to Regis. Regis' leer was extremely strong, and when Regis lifted his chin and attempted to appear innocent, Ignis very nearly rolled his eyes.
Ignis finally snapped out of it and lifted his hand, taking Titus' with a jolt and going along for the ride as Titus immediately began to lead. He went into automatic then, as he needed to, falling into position with his hand resting on Titus' very broad shoulder. The only way to not make a fool of himself was to simply not think at all.
Titus stared at him rather mercilessly, never breaking eye contact, and Ignis only held it because he was too brain-dead in that moment to look away.
Titus' hands without gloves; marvelous. Rough and calloused. Large, powerful fingers. As scarred as Titus' face. Warm.
Ignis fell into a daze then in which the rest of the world seemed to disappear. Felt as if it were only him and Titus then, and wished it could have stayed that way.
Out of nowhere, Ignis suddenly heard himself utter, weakly, "Forgive me. I am sorry that you have to do this, Captain. I don't mean to embarrass you."
Titus stared away at him, and Ignis knew how painfully red his face still was. Couldn't even pity Noctis or Gladio then, tripping over their partners toes, because he was too busy dying inside.
After an awful minute, Titus asked, so casually, "Why should I be embarrassed? You're a far more graceful dancer than I. I'm more comfortable with a sword in my hands. This isn't my scene at all. You're the one who should feel embarrassed."
Thoughtlessly, Ignis offered, "You're wonderful. I notice no lack of grace in you."
Titus was smirking outright then, ego no doubt stoked, but he still replied, "That is only because you're used to Noctis murdering your toes."
"You have a point," Ignis responded, and Titus just snorted at that.
Felt as if he were truly in a dream.
Titus stared away at him, expression strange and thoughtful then, and when Titus finally looked up at the crowd, Ignis was released from his gaze and turned his eyes to Titus' chest instead. Was bound and determined to keep his eyes there, too, because if Titus kept staring at him Ignis was going to do something stupid.
He had envisioned this night going quite differently, and Ignis was very certain that if Titus had been in his usual uniform Ignis would have been able to get out of his head. He had wanted to be the one taking Titus for a ride, not the other way around.
What would come after this? Hard to dance with a man he had been blatantly flirting with and not to expect something else afterwards.
Titus first needed to give Ignis a true sign of reciprocation, before Ignis got ahead of himself.
The scent of Titus was hypnotizing.
Might have fallen into his head a little too much then, as wondrous as it felt to be pressed up against Titus like that, for Ignis actually let out a noise of alarm when Titus had suddenly dunked him backwards quite low.
Adrenaline.
Titus leered down at him, brows quirked and nearly smiling, and then he snorted and whispered, so softly, "Forgive me. I've always wanted to do that."
Ignis scoffed, despite himself, hand clenching Titus' shoulder for dear life. Would have given anything at all if Titus had just leaned down and kissed him then, the crowd be damned. Naturally, he didn't, and instead gracefully pulled Ignis back upright.
Ignis tried to get his act together, and said, "Happy to give you a thrill, Captain."
Beneath his palm, Ignis was certain he felt Titus' shoulder brace, as that peacock came out.
Ignis turned his eyes out to the crowd then, and it didn't take Ignis long to realize that the Glaives guarding the doors had managed to come forward to find vantage points, no doubt absolutely fascinated by seeing their boss dancing. In fact, there were three other Glaives now that Ignis hadn't seen before, and they must have come in from outside and upstairs, paged by their brethren about this unbelievable sight.
Curious to all, no doubt.
Titus was a warrior, and it was not customary at all to see him be anything but.
Ignis wondered if Titus had raised hell about this order, or if he had happily accepted. So hard to read Titus, but if Titus hadn't wanted to do this, truly hadn't, he wouldn't have. With Titus, sometimes the simpler explanation was the correct one.
Titus leaned down, and whispered, "You do realize that this will be the subject of much gossip come tomorrow."
"No doubt," Ignis replied, as he steadily regained his confidence bit by bit. "Which is naturally why you exacerbated it with that little stunt."
"Naturally." Titus caught Ignis' gaze once again, and his soft voice was ever lower when he said, "I have half a mind to exacerbate it further."
Ignis' heart raced, stomach flipping, and very much meant it when he replied, "I would find that quite agreeable. I do seem to like trouble-makers."
"I'm sure," Titus breathed.
Without any further hesitation, the hand holding his own aloft shifted, and Ignis found that their fingers were suddenly intertwined.
Very good, indeed!
Ignis didn't bother looking over at Regis, because he already knew that Regis and Clarus must have been having fits.
Ignis was trying very hard to gather up the courage to close the small gap between them and press himself completely up against broad Titus, but missed the chance.
The music stopped.
Blast!
Ignis stood there quite still, staring up at Titus and reluctant to let him go for anything in the world. Didn't even care much then that lingering like that would have absolutely made Regis' week, would absolutely get the Glaives gossiping. Just cared that Titus' hands were warm and still very much in place, their fingers yet intertwined. Cared that Titus wasn't moving, either, and made no immediate effort to step back.
A very long minute, and then Titus finally said, lowly, "It was a pleasure, Ignis. I thank you for the nice change of pace."
"The pleasure is all mine," Ignis quickly replied, as Titus at long last let him go, sadly. "I thank you for the excitement. And the gossip, of course."
With gossip no doubt on Titus' mind, he bowed at the waist, took Ignis' hand, and much like his Glaive earlier, Titus chivalrously kissed the top of Ignis' hand. For the gossip, obviously, because Titus was the sort of man who neither danced nor had etiquette in court. Pulled it off quite well, despite that, and Ignis was the one smirking as Titus released him and walked back to Regis. Ignis watched him go, happily, and then looked about for Noct and Gladio. Found them quickly enough, as they were already making their way over to him.
He prepared himself for their wrath.
And he received it shortly after, when Noct raised a hand to his forehead and griped, lowly, "That was the most humiliating moment of my life. This is so not fair."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Gladio concurred. "How is it you got off so easy?"
Without thinking, Ignis replied, honestly, "Because I always do as I am told."
What was he supposed to say? 'Because the King is trying to set me up?' Hardly.
They glared at Ignis a little, and then seemed to jump and straighten into attention, and Ignis looked over his shoulder just in time to see Titus striding once more up to him, briskly.
What now?
Before Ignis could turn around, Titus had reached forward, placed a very heavy hand right on Ignis' back, leaned down very closely, and whispered, so that only he could hear, "I forgot to say—you look spectacular tonight. That suit is a keeper. And so is that hair."
Perfect! Just what he wanted to hear. Ignis turned his head ever so slightly and replied, in his deepest and softest whisper, "Thank you, Captain. I trust I don't need to tell you how spectacular you look, for you always do, in any situation."
A noise of contentment from Titus' throat, his hand withdrew, and once more Titus was gone.
Noctis and Gladio relaxed again, now that they weren't being forced into another waltz, and Noctis was very quick to look for the nearest door and said, gruffly, "Later. I'm outta here."
"Same," Gladio quickly griped, and they both bailed as quickly as they could, leaving Ignis there alone.
Ignis took the time to wander about and down several more glasses of champagne to calm his nerves, and Titus seemed to have briefly vanished. No matter. Ignis had accomplished more than he ever dreamed in one night.
Could still feel Titus' warm hands there upon him, and for it couldn't stop smiling.
Someone at his side, and Ignis glanced over to see Regis.
Regis came up to Ignis, hiding his smile behind his glass, and said, so casually, "I hope you'll forgive me, Ignis. I don't intend for you to be caught up in Noctis' punishment." Regis looked him up and down and added, "Well—I suppose it wasn't precisely punishment for you."
Ignis knew there was absolutely no point in denying it; Regis had had his number long ago.
And up until then Ignis had no problem being very bold, so he bit the bullet, gave a short bow, and said, very calmly, "Indeed not, your Majesty. I rather say I had a wonderful time, whatever terror befell Noct."
Regis was smirking, and his eyes lidded a bit as he replied, "Good to hear. Happy to be of assistance, although I hope I didn't press my bounds."
Sounded quite a bit like Regis was offering a helping hand in Ignis' efforts to wrangle Titus, and Ignis was quite keen to that, very quickly suppressing his own smile and saying, lowly, "Not at all, sire. I always look forward to his Majesty's assistance."
All Regis needed to hear.
Regis lifted his chin, leering away, and said, as he walked on, "Good evening, Ignis. Get some rest. I sense you'll need it in these coming days."
Ignis scoffed aloud, mouth hanging open, and watched Regis go.
Goodness!
Ignis happened to turn his head then, and saw Titus in a corner with Pelna, speaking to each other with glass in hand. Titus caught Ignis' eye, and raised his glass in show. Ignis bowed his head, smiling away, and was very much looking forward to Regis' next game.
Titus must have known what Ignis was thinking, for he began smirking, and Pelna by then had followed Titus' gaze and was positively beaming.
Couldn't wait for all this gossip!
Up in his head, Ignis still felt quite like he were waltzing, lost in the clouds and so elated.
One of the best nights in his living memory.
He actually found himself humming a bit as he drove home, and his one regret from that marvelous night was that, when Titus had raised his glass to him, Ignis hadn't had the nerve to go up to him and slip his phone number into Titus' hand.
Next time.