Water Under the Bridge
Dawn

Aranea lost count of how many days Ignis had been gone. It wasn't that long, but it felt like years. Centuries, even. Now, she was going through the motions of waking up, eating, and putting on a hardened front for the citizens of Lestallum so they wouldn't be afraid. After all, she was someone they all looked up to. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to stay strong for them.

Inside, though, was a completely different scenario. It was weird. She felt empty, walking around in a daze more often than not. Cor, Iris, Biggs, and Wedge were constantly repeating themselves as Aranea found it hard to concentrate and comprehend what they were saying. She hated the sympathetic looks they gave her, but she remained cold and distant, unable to scream or cry. More than once, Iris implored Aranea to come back to their hotel room and stay there, but Aranea declined. If she took Iris up on her offer, then that would mean not being around the bed that she shared with Ignis. It meant being away from the closet of his clothes that still smelled like him. It meant having no physical reminder to ground herself when all she wanted to do was zone out.

Despite the crushing grief that sat heavy in Aranea's heart and soul, there was also something else there as well. It wasn't all despair. Underneath it all, there was the swell of pride knowing Ignis worked hard to get to this point. He could have laid down and wallowed in pity for the last ten years, but he didn't. That wasn't who he was. It was always about getting better. Faster. Stronger. Anything to ensure he could hold his own on the war front and protect Noctis. No matter what anyone else said, his faith and tenacity never wavered. Frankly, it was just another thing about him that Aranea loved.

One quiet, dark afternoon, Iris forced Aranea to open the door to her apartment and let her in for some company. She was just as heartbroken as Aranea with Gladio gone as well. Maybe, Aranea thought, Iris needed a distraction more so than she did herself. That's how Aranea found her head in Iris' lap, both on the couch while Iris braided and unbraided Aranea's silver hair numerous times.

"How're you feeling? Your pregnancy, I mean," the daemon hunter questioned quietly, desperate to make conversation. Anything to take their minds away from the scorching pain they felt.

"Still ok. Nothing crazy. I feel like she's picking up on my stress because she's a little more subdued, but still kicking around. Oh, shit. Spoke too soon," she flinched, fingers flying to the side of her stomach and pressing at the sensation. "I'd piss my pants if she had it her way. The little brat loves to push against my bladder lately."

Iris muffled a laugh. "Awww, don't call her that. She just wants to say hello in her own way."

"I guess. Doesn't mean I don't find it annoying as hell." Aranea moved to get comfortable again, sitting up and then lying back down so her head was nestled right back where it was in Iris' lap. There was an odd silence that irritated Aranea and she flicked her eyes upward to Iris. "What? What are you upset about now?"

She sniffled and blinked back some tears. "Doesn't it bother you that your daughter may never know her father?"

"Iris . . ."

"Oh, I know, I shouldn't get all crazy emotional or anything, but I can't help it. It's not fair. I mean, the Amicitias pretty much resigned to the fact that we could possibly die an early death. It is what it is, you know? But this wasn't what I was expecting when my dad sat me down as a child and told me all about our duties to the King. I figured—hey, where are you going?"

Aranea pulled herself up and stalked away, not wanting to hear any more of what Iris was rambling on about. Iris was on her feet now also and followed after the Commodore. "Look, I'm sorry! I know it's hard to talk about— "

"Astrals, Iris, just fucking stop, ok? The whole point of you coming over was to just sit and talk about stupid shit, not dredge up all of . . . this," she barked, waving her hands abstractedly. "If you want to vent, fine; but keep me out of it."

Iris bit her lower lip and drew her eyebrows together. "So, what? Are you just going to shut everyone out? We're all hurting, you know!"

"Alright, that's it, sweetheart; I'm not dealing with this today."

"Dammit, Aranea, I'm not leaving!"

Aranea whirled around and growled. "Iris, I'm warning you . . ."

"What? You don't think I've completely overlooked the fact that you walk around like a zombie? That you completely stopped caring about how your hair looks? Or that you have the worst bags under your eyes because you don't sleep anymore? It's ok to miss him and cry over him! He's the father of your child! Why won't you let yourself just feel that?"

"Because it hurts too damn much!" Aranea snapped, nose turning a shade of red as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. "Is that what you want to hear? I shut down because I don't want to feel this! I don't want to feel like something's missing, or like I can't go on in life anymore. Everything was going just fine before he decided to worm his way into my life and I don't . . . I can't . . . "

Aranea's legs gave out from under her and Iris rushed over, catching her and letting her down gently to the ground as Aranea hiccupped and wept. Iris, too, started to cry again as she uttered hopeful words in her friend's ear. How maybe, just maybe, the guys would come back. That everything would be just fine. They were just upset over nothing.

But it all fell on deaf ears as Aranea toppled over that edge and into the depths of a breakdown, the floodgates to everything she held back finally unleashed.

They battled daemons on the road to the Citadel.

They took down the Behemoth that guarded the gates.

Their uniforms were scorched and tattered after going head-to-head against Ifrit, the Infernian God.

All four attempted to stand off against Ardyn in the Throne Room, but that was not meant to be as Ignis realized he was conscious one second and suffocating the next. He dropped to his knees and felt the sensation of falling deep into an abyss. Then, he woke up on the cold marble of the Citadel floor. How long he was out for, he had no idea, but Gladio pulled him up and, together, the three stumbled outside to look for Noctis.

Rain fell and the air had taken on a slight freeze, unusual for this time of year—especially within the confines of the Wall. The raindrops pelted Ignis' hair and shoulders, slowly soaking him to the bone. Usually, weather like this would chill someone, but Ignis was numb. The entire thing was completely absurd.

"So, this is farewell," Ignis noted with finality. All these years. Everything. It all boiled down to this.

"Yeah," Noctis said. "Here we are."

It sounded awful. Trite. Barren.

Gladio stood tall and Ignis turned an ear in his direction. "It's all you." As if there was another way. Like it was some sort of compliment. Ignis knew Gladio didn't mean it as such, but still.

"No turning back now," Prompto took a step forward. It was like he wanted to chase after Noctis. Now's not the time, Ignis thought. He mentally chided the sharpshooter for failing to remain at attention, but at the same time, he understood.

Noctis turned away. Step by step by step, he began his ascent to the throne. Then, he stopped and turned. For a fleeting second, Ignis hoped that he reconsidered his destiny, but that would have been something the old Noctis would've done. This Noctis—King Noctis Lucis Caelum—was not about to shirk his responsibilities.

"Prompto. Gladio. Ignis," he named in a solemn tone. "I leave it to you. Walk tall, my friends."

Ignis bowed his head and then looked in Noctis' direction. As much as it killed Ignis to let go, he was so full of pride for his friend. Noctis really had come a long way. "Godspeed . . . and take care, Majesty."

As Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto bowed to their King, the familiar sound of daemons rising up interrupted their goodbyes. Dread pooled in Ignis' stomach and he felt his muscles clench tightly with anticipation.

Noctis also realized how precarious their situation was if he didn't get upstairs soon. "The time has come," he declared. And, with that, he turned away for a final time.

As Noctis' footsteps paced up the Citadel steps, the three Kingsglaive spun around to face the daemons as they raged from the ground, one after the other. Every type of daemon they'd ever encountered before roared from the depths of Eos. Ignis called his daggers to his possession and inhaled deeply, ready to keep the monsters away from Noctis as he made his Ascension.

"Let's do this," Gladio rallied, his large sword perched on his shoulder as he stepped into the fray, Prompto tracked close behind.

The only way to describe the battle was pandemonium. It had been a long time since Ignis found himself involved in a battle of this magnitude and with so many different foes to contend with. It was hard for him to keep track of who was where at any given moment as more daemons descended on them. At one point, Ignis was sure that he was throwing a dagger in the direction of a Necromancer, but Prompto's shrill cry alerted him that he'd made a mistake and aimed at his friend instead.

A forceful knock from behind threw Ignis to the ground. He lost track of his daggers as they flew from his hands and clattered to the ground somewhere. Before he could recall them, a daemon—a Bussemand, if he was certain—was on him, attacking without any intention of letting Ignis go alive.

"Prompto! Iggy needs you!" Gladio roared, swiping at a group of weak Goblins but missing a pair of rogue Ronins as they both struck him from either side, blood sputtering from the two sword wounds he received.

The Bussemand reached down and smashed Ignis' skull into the pavement, no doubt earning him a concussion and a wicked gash to go with it. He gathered the willpower from deep inside and called a lance to his aid, jabbing the weapon as hard as he could into the monster's eye. Gore and matter dripped and oozed down the length of the pole and onto Ignis as he twisted it to ensure that the Bussemand was rendered incapacitated. A gunshot rang out and a bullet hit the back of the Bussemand's head, officially killing him.

"You ok, Iggy?" Prompto asked, shooting another round at a daemon.

Ignis didn't respond as he struggled to get up, practically nauseous from the blow to his head, but he managed to stand with the help of his lance. Gladio was off in the distance, attempting to keep a Red Giant from coming any further toward the Citadel. Prompto was closer to Ignis' right, firing round after round of bullets from the gun's chambers. The advisor pushed any thoughts of illness to the back of his mind, forcing himself to focus instead on another group of daemons.

Ignis thought he heard Prompto scream something about running low on ammo. And, wait; did Gladio just scream that he needed backup?

Were they any closer to winning their war on the daemons?

How long would they have to keep at this?

Where was Cor? How come he hadn't come yet?

Maybe this wasn't going to work.

A rock-like thing rammed Ignis from the side, throwing him a few feet through the air, only for him to crash hard on the ground. Ignis didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before he seized up, electrocuted mercilessly. Only a Thunder Bomb could produce that much voltage, and Ignis felt every bit of it. He screamed in agony, paralyzed and unable to defend himself as a random Salphinx pounced on him once the Thunder Bomb ceased its attack, for that second. The Salphinx took the opportunity slash painful wounds into Ignis while he was down.

Gladio shouted once more for assistance, another Red Giant now added to his list of problems. Prompto, on the other hand, heavily weakened and lacking any more ammo to defend himself, was backed into a corner by a Mindflayer and a Psychomancer.

Blood covered Ignis' uniform and he was on his hands and knees, desperate to catch his breath before another shock from the Thunder Bomb coursed through his veins. They were all sorely outmatched and the daemons kept coming. He felt the electricity take hold again and he involuntarily stiffened, sweat pouring from his brow as the Salphinx made another slash on his body, this time on the back of his upper leg.

Everything hurt. Even the very ends of his hair ached.

Ignis started saying his goodbyes in his head, waiting for death's sweet release to take him away. He was growing weak, unable to even hold himself up on all fours and ultimately collapsing to the ground. "Iggy!" Prompto called out. He also tried yelling for Gladio but got nothing in response. The Shield must have taken a hit because he was no longer grunting and exchanging blows with the Red Giants. Prompto screamed, the Psychomancer holding him in a tight death grip.

It was chaotic. Ignis knew they were knocking on death's door, but, without warning, everything stopped. A shockwave of sorts radiated out from the Citadel and obliviated all the daemons and monsters in the vicinity, turning them to purple mist and dust. It sounded like an explosion, a deafening roar that Ignis didn't have the strength to cover his ears from.

The stillness dragged on for an inordinate amount of time, or so Ignis thought. He was paralyzed, struggling to breathe and stay conscious. Somewhere, Prompto was shrieking for help, but whether it was for himself or for Gladio, Ignis didn't know. A boulder shifted and crumbled in the distance, echoing into the dark night.

He tried to focus on the sound of his own shuddering breath while ignoring the painful twitching and contracting of his muscles. Everything was muddled and it confused Ignis. Sounds were becoming muffled and faded in and out. Several footsteps rushed onto the scene and a voice that sounded like Cor's bellowed instructions.

"Marshal! Over here, please!" Prompto begged. "Gladio needs some elixirs or he's not going to make it!"

"Where are your items?"

"We ran out! Please, help us!"

Two pairs of boots stampeded to Ignis' side and started to crack open a few hi-elixirs over his body, scorched and raw from the burns and bleeding wounds, but it barely touched the injuries. "Oi! Marshal, we need more restoratives! 'e's fading fast!" Biggs accented voice alerted

"Who is?"

"The Royal Advisor!"

"Shit! How bad is it?"

"Hard to tell, but we're losin' 'im!"

"Ignis?" Prompto's voice was an octave higher now, fearful and desperate.

More commands were thrown back and forth over the front piazza of the Citadel. Gladio at least had a pulse and he'd begun to breathe after given a Phoenix Down. Prompto's behavior was growing more and more erratic as his two friends lay dying on the ground and plagued with the thought that his best friend was obviously no longer a mortal being on Eos.

"Can someone search the Citadel for His Majesty's body? Anyone?"

"I still need those restoratives for Scientia!"

"GODDAMIT! CAN SOMEONE SAVE MY FUCKING FRIENDS?"

"Gladio's waking up!"

"How's Ignis doing? Get all the restoratives over to him at once!"

Ignis' head lolled to one side and he heard himself wince in pain. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad, he thought.

And then Noctis' promise to bring back light came to mind.

So when dawn breaks, you'll know?

And Aranea.

I'm pregnant.

His daughter in his arms.

He had to come home. He promised.

But he was suffering from an extraordinary amount of pain. Ignis could practically feel the electricity still surging through every inch of his body, but at least the bleeding stopped . . . maybe? He struggled to stay awake, panting and counting the drops of sweat as they rolled down the sides of his face. Anything to keep his mind occupied instead of fading to black.

"Sir!" a hunter shouted, "I found him! His Majesty! He's in the Throne Room but I can't . . . I need help retrieving his body."

So, he was gone.

Noctis was dead.

Maybe it was the pain of his injuries, the fatigue of the fight, or just the sheer unwillingness to suffer through the heartache, but Ignis slipped away into nothingness. He allowed the peace and comfort to wash over him, covering him like a warm security blanket.

Ignis' eyes fluttered open. He wanted to say that this was a dream, with the haze around the edges of the scene, but it wasn't. He'd been here before. It was more like he was remembering something, unlike the fabrication of events that come with dreaming.

His shoes clicked on the tile as he took in the beautiful architecture. He was standing in the Citadel entryway as another set of footsteps walked down the hall. Ignis smiled, watching as a young Noctis was escorted down the hall to meet his new advisor.

"Stand up straight, Ignis. We're in the presence of royalty."

"Yes, Uncle."

Ignis whirled around and saw himself at the age of six, standing with his hands clasped in front of him and wearing a pair of glasses a size or two too big. The child wore a white collared shirt under a green vest with khaki shorts, ironed just right so that they creased along the front. It was a brand-new outfit that his mother bought him, right before he was sent to live in the Citadel. His uncle had a hand on his back as Noctis and King Regis approached the pair.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you made it," Regis greeted, eyes shining bright. "I'm very happy that you agreed to look after my son, Ignis. I have no doubts he is in capable hands."

Noctis hid behind his father's leg and Ignis smiled as he viewed his younger self take several steps toward the shy prince. He extended a hand and knelt, uttering a soft introduction to allow the prince to warm up to him. It didn't take long for Noctis to scoot away from his father and, together, the two children toddled away as Noctis babbled on and on about wanting to show Ignis his toys.

There was a rush of cold air and Ignis realized he wasn't in the Citadel entryway anymore. Now, he was in Noctis' apartment, the night before they were set to leave Insomnia for Noctis' wedding.

Have I died? Is my life actually flashing before my eyes? What are these memories?

The prince was ashen-faced, mumbling about his impending nuptials and Prompto giggled. Everything was packed and ready to go. They all sat in a circle in the living room playing King's Knight.

"Ignis, what are you going to do now that Noctis is getting married?" Prompto asked without sparing a glance away from his phone.

"Why, the same duties I perform now, though on a far lesser scale. Lady Lunafreya is amenable to my remaining by Noctis' side. At the very core, I'd still be his advisor in royal matters and such."

"You couldn't tear Iggy away from Noctis' side if you threatened his life," Gladio snorted. "Let's just hope His Highness doesn't need you to clean up after him anymore. Think you can keep this place in a decent state, Noct? I've seen how big of a pigsty you let it get and I doubt Luna will stick around long if you can't do something as simple as putting dishes in a dishwasher."

Noctis rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

You were so afraid. So many changes in such a short amount of time. How I wish I could've shouldered your burden a little more. You had to grow up so fast.

Ignis was whisked away from the warm and inviting apartment to the cold and harrowing hotel room in Altissia. It was strange, being able to see a scene of his life that he clearly was unable to view at the time. He wanted to scream, the injury ghastly upon his younger self's face. Noctis was sitting in bed with him and they were talking quietly between each other.

"I can't ever forgive myself for letting this happen to you," Noctis wept.

"Highness, please. That's enough. I never, nor will I ever, blamed you for this. I would put myself in harm's way again if it ensured your safety. I only regret that my actions didn't effectively keep the Chancellor away from you and Lady Lunafreya."

"Fuck, Specs! How can you even put any blame on yourself? I shouldn't have agreed to those damn terms made by the First Secretary. It was stupid of me to think that splitting up would be a good idea. This is all my fault and I'm so . . . so sorry." Noctis openly cried, twisting away from Ignis so he didn't have to see the wounds on his face.

We didn't know. Noct, I hope you made peace with the fact that you had no way of knowing. None of us did. Please, don't guilt yourself anymore.

Ignis was thrust into another scene, but this time it looked like he was placed in some abstract world. Pinks and blues and purples danced around them without anything else in sight. Ignis watched alongside King Regis, Gladio, and Prompto as Noctis floated, strong and graceful, in front of Ardyn. With a hand outstretched, Noctis called upon the kings of Lucis to rid the world of Ardyn and his evil, once and for all. He screamed a guttural sound and unleashed the kings upon the Chancellor before collapsing backward and dissipating in the sea of colors.

Ignis tried to call out to him, but he remained frozen in place and his words died in his throat.

And then, black.

He was alone in a sea of darkness. Every which way he looked, the emptiness stretched on. If this was death, then it was incredibly lonely. Yet, anything was better than going back to a world without Noctis. Why even bother? It wasn't like his life had any purpose or meaning anymore without him.

Yes, Ignis ruminated. He'd stay here forever, no matter how bleak it seemed. It was infinitely more comforting than returning to Eos without Noctis in tow.

But his subconscious had other plans. It wasn't about to let Ignis give up so easily.

The black faded and a new scene unfolded. It was Aranea laying in bed, her baby bump jutting out from her muscular frame. She was wearing one of his button-up shirts, her own shirts too tight around her growing stomach. Ignis smiled, standing unnoticed in the doorway, when he saw himself lean across the bed, capturing her in his arms and proceeding to tickle her, unrelenting.

"Ok! Ok I am ticklish! Fuck, Specs ok you're right!" she cried out in between howling laughter.

"Is this you conceding defeat? Just say the words!"

"Hahahaha no! Wait! Hahahaha ok, ok! Yes, please! Let . . . me . . . gooooo!"

He released her and snickered when she slapped him across the arm. "Asshole! Now you're going to get her all riled up and she'll keep me up for hours with all the kicking and moving she'll do."

He planted kisses on her temple and rubbed her stomach. "All the better for me to feel her against my hand."

"Yeah, well, you're not carrying her and you don't have to worry about her waking you up because she decides to do acrobats in your stomach at three a.m."

"My apologies, darling," he smiled. From the doorway, Ignis remembered that moment and knew he'd never truly been sorry. By that point, he was just waiting for Noctis' return and he lived for those times where he could feel the baby move under his hand. He loved spending time just him and Aranea, daydreaming about their future together—even though Ignis knew otherwise.

"You're cute when you try to fake an apology, but this time . . ." she had a devious glint in her eyes as her fingers twitched, "it . . . won't . . . work!" and she reached over and found Ignis' ticklish spots. His sides. Under his arms. In the crook of his neck. He laughed harder than he had in recent years, only half-attempting to writhe away from her attack.

Even though he wasn't sure about the mechanics behind why he was able to view these moments, never having been able to see the last three pictured scenes as they occurred prior, he wouldn't question it. Call it a favor from the Gods, perhaps? Instead, Ignis wanted to stay and relive this moment, both him and Aranea enjoying each other's company in their apartment, over and over. It was the first time he'd been able to see what his life looked like. Physically, actually see it. They looked so happy.

Plus, it was the first and only time he was able to see Aranea and what she looked like. Gods, was Aranea beautiful. She'd aged over the ten years, but she maintained that effortless attractiveness that Ignis remembered when they first met all those years ago.

Seeing her now, laughing while their baby grew every day, made Ignis sentimental. How could he be so selfish to want to throw all that away, especially when Noctis specifically mentioned Ignis going back home to his new family? Opening a restaurant. Rebuilding Insomnia. Seeing to it that he be there for his daughter as she grew up.

I have to go home.

I need Aranea with me.

I can't give up. I won't.

He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting again. His life played like a movie reel and sped up. Faster and faster.

I can't die.

This can't be the end.

Let me go home.

He fell to the ground with a powerful thud and everything felt real. He wasn't in a dream-like state anymore. His right eye snapped open, back to a world where he lacked sight, and Ignis gasped for breath while the rain continued to fall in a steady curtain around them.

"Ignis? Are you back? Say something. Hey, come on. Are you back with us?" Prompto fired off, hovering over Ignis' tensed body. He'd snatched up a Phoenix Down—or several—and raced to Ignis' side, pushing Biggs away as he fought to save his friend.

There was still chaos everywhere as Cor saw to it that Noctis' body was retrieved, that Gladio was drinking a water bottle offered to him, and that everyone was ok. Ignis turned to Prompto's hand as it gripped his own hand tightly. With what little strength he could muster, he squeezed back. "I'm ready to move out when we're ready," he rasped.

Prompto balked at first and then devolved into nervous yet relieved laughter as he hugged the advisor, tears dripping onto the collar of Ignis' shirt.

It wasn't fair.

It would never be fair.

Still, Ignis owed it to Noctis to live out the rest of his life with the woman he loved with all his heart and their daughter.

He had to make his King's sacrifice worth it.

Aranea sat, cross-legged, in the loft of the apartment with the picture of her and Ignis in her hands. She played idly with it between her fingers, flipping it and studying it for any small detail she possibly overlooked before. After her breakdown, she'd gone right back to feeling nothing and powering through the motions. Cor, Biggs, and Wedge, along with a few other advanced hunters, took off toward Insomnia at some point, but Aranea just shrugged. What was the point of them even going? Body retrieval? Scout out the damage?

The fact that the sun still wasn't up didn't bode well in Aranea's mind, so she was quick to cross off 'provide backup' as a possible reason. It was just better if she kept the worst-case scenarios in the forefront of her thoughts—at least then she wouldn't be so depressed if that's the outcome that occurred.

"What do you think, little one? Hm? Think the sun will come up at all? Or are we just going to live in darkness for the rest of our lives?" A soft kick toward the top of her stomach. "Yeah, I hope not, either," she responded, sighing.

The sound of screaming, followed by a cacophony of cheers piqued Aranea's curiosity. She wriggled to get to her feet, her stomach becoming more and more of an obstacle with every passing day. A round window was cracked open slightly and Aranea walked over to it, standing on her tiptoes to peer out over the courtyard it overlooked. She raised an eyebrow as people embraced and jumped up and down. It was a jubilant scene.

Someone pounded on her door and Aranea tore herself away from the window, careful as she descended the narrow staircase. The pounding grew louder and louder and Aranea yelled over the commotion. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Iris standing there, cheeks flushed while she struggled to catch her breath after speeding to get here.

"They're home."

Aranea stiffened. "Who? What?"

"Cor and the brigade just pulled in. They're home. The boys . . . my brother . . ."

"What about Ignis?"

"I don't— "

Aranea shoved passed Iris and took off running, Iris following close behind, to the main road of Lestallum. So, Noctis did it. At the cost of his own life, he sacrificed everything for everyone to have a chance at peace. It was only a matter of time then for the sun to finally rise.

The stretch of stone pavement dragged on forever and Aranea felt a stitch forming in her side. She finally arrived where Cor and the team had parked their vehicles. They were surrounded by a crowd of civilians, all crying tears of joy. Aranea and Iris pushed through the throngs of people to the center and they saw Gladio leaning against a truck, hair matted with dried blood and several cuts marring his face and arms. He looked up and his face softened as he saw Iris and Aranea standing there. Iris immediately ran into his arms and he swept her up. They both laughed and cried and Iris kept repeating, "You did it!"

Cor walked over to Aranea. "Where . . . where is . . ." she stuttered, thoughts already thinking the worst. "Did he come back?"

The Marshal pointed to the outlook, where citizens went to get a better view of the Disc. She squinted and noticed two figures standing, one supported by the other. Cor gave her an affirmative nod and she sprinted to the outlook. Down the parking ramp, a short flight of stairs, another few stairs, and she found herself standing behind Ignis and Prompto.

Prompto looked over his shoulder, but his eyes looked dead. Almost soulless. He flashed her a fake smile and moved just enough to face Ignis and himself toward her. Aranea couldn't help the gasp she made. Prompto was beaten and bruised, a black eye already forming. Ignis fared worse with a gash, somewhat healed from the hi-elixirs, along the side of his head. A network of pink and red veins and arteries created a latticework pattern on his skin—a symptom of electrocution, Aranea gathered.

"It looks worse than it feels," Prompto comforted, tipped off by the frightened expression she bore.

"Bullshit, Blondie. You guys look horrible. What the fuck even happened in Insomnia?"

Ignis blindly stared ahead, almost like he was in a state of shock as Prompto ducked from under Ignis' arm. He waited until Aranea was close enough to take over as Ignis' support before backing away. "I'm going to see what's going on up in the city and leave you two alone," he said with a jaded smile before dragging his feet up the stairs to the celebration.

"Fuck, Ignis," she held back a choked sob as she scrutinized Ignis and the myriad of injuries that littered his body. "What did they do to you in that city? Are you . . . does it . . . shit, what happened?" The tacky, drying blood on his uniform. Slits and cuts clear through, revealing where healing cuts were before somewhat fading with the help of the elixirs. The look of total desolation and despondency as he remained mute. When he opened his mouth to say something, nothing came out and Aranea resorted to shushing him gently while running a careful hand down his face. "You don't have to say anything," she whispered.

He shook his head, his voice cracking from emotions and exhaustion. "I wanted to . . . I wanted to find a way to save him. I couldn't . . ." he faded off as a single tear fell, streaking the blood on his cheek.

"I know. Ignis, trust me, I know. You would do anything for him. That's just your nature."

He swallowed. "He made a fine king, one that I would've been delighted to work alongside. It's tragic how fast the end came. I only wish he could be here to enjoy the first sunrise with us." Aranea shifted as Ignis winced, his wounds smarting despite all the medical aid he received before coming home. "His body will be laid to rest in the park beside the Citadel. I don't even know how to begin to process this and already we're talking of how best to memorialize him."

The sky was turning a hue of pink and purple as the edges of the sun peeked over the horizon, dispersing angry black Starscourge clouds from above. "Hey, we'll get there. Don't worry about the logistics of everything right now. Look, the sun is starting to come up. How about we enjoy that for the moment, ok?"

Ignis nodded slowly, limping alongside her as they walked to the stone ledge of the outlook. He pulled his arm away from Aranea and supported himself by holding onto the ledge while Aranea ran her hand up and down his back, hoping the gesture would relax him a bit.

The corners of his lips quirked into a small smile. "I saw you. Us, together. Those visions brought me back. It was what kept me alive."

Aranea tilted her head. "What do you mean? You saw us? Like, literally?"

He pursed his lips. "I dare not question the logistics of such a feat, but yes; I was granted an opportunity to watch us before I regained consciousness. It was everything I needed to keep going."

The tears were coming back again in her eyes and she leaned her forehead on his shoulder to bury her face. "You actually got to see us?"

Ignis snaked a hand around her back and held her close. "Indeed. It was something I'll never forget. Your beauty amazes me, my love. And we're so happy and in love . . . seeing you carrying our daughter . . . it's more than I can put into mere words."

Aranea groaned lightheartedly. "Gods, Specs; could you be any more of a sap?" When he tried to laugh, it hurt too much and Aranea, once again, shushed him into silence. "Alright, don't strain yourself. No more laughing. I'm sorry, I'll be serious. And, in the spirit of being serious . . . you have no idea how . . ." her words tangled in the mess of overwhelming emotions that bubbled in her chest. "I don't know what I would have done if you didn't come home. I understand this is hard for you, but I'm so proud of the man you've fought to become these last ten years. I promise we'll get through this, too. One step at a time, ok?"

Ignis closed his eye and bowed his head. "Thank you, Aranea."

"Anytime, Specs. I love you."

"I love you, too."

With one hand on Aranea's stomach, the other wrapped around her lower back, Ignis kissed the top of her head and breathed deep as the sun's rays warmed his face. Together, they basked in the first sunrise over Eos and thanked Noctis for bringing light back to the world, along with a second chance at a promising future together.

Author's Note: My headcanon the entire time has ALWAYS been that the Bros live. They rebuild Insomnia and make a world that Noctis would be proud of. Ahhhh, I can't tell you how good it feels to FINALLY write that! I know a bunch of you would write me and I'd put off talking about my headcanon since it would be an obvious spoiler for this story. But yes, I believe they live, even though it would be incredibly hard for them to get by at first.

I wrote this chapter, not really thinking much about it. Then it hit me. This is it. The next chapter is more an epilogue than anything to tie up all the loose ends. So, really . . . I mean, this is it. And it's weird. Like it's not real.

Of course, I'll save all the sentimental stuff for my author's note next chapter :) But dang . . . I'm not sure what else to say.

I hope to have the epilogue up sooner than Sunday, since it won't be near as long as some of these chapters have been. I say that now, but watch it'll end up being another 5,000-6,000 word chapter. Hey, would that really be such a bad thing? :)