[Direct Journal Entries]:

9th of April, M.E. 761

It's been several months since I've penned anything regarding my personal affairs. I suppose I should write in summary.

In short, I've been on the road. I come back to the homestead as much as I can. However, I can't help but feel I've been somewhat delayed and even a bit neglectful. It is no one's fault, of course, but I must learn all I can and train as much as I can. I must be ready for Noct's return. If there's any chance to save Noct from his fate, I must find it.

I've commissioned the assistance of the friends we made along our journey. It seems Noctis was already laying the groundwork for his return when he led us on all those quests those years ago. For example, who would have thought chasing frogs would afford me the opportunity to work with Sonia Yeagre, the authority on this endless night? (I've passed her notes on as often as I can to Aleya. It brings her delight which has been rare as of late.) Who knew taking pictures for an undercover reporter would lead to me finding ancient areas and tombs that we never knew existed? I think there's not one piece of Eos the man has not catalogued. In truth, I had always regarded his work as sensationalism, before. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention.

Talcott's become proficient in copying any recovered photographs of ancient writing into Braille for me. I haven't had to trouble Aleya to translate in months. Talcott's becoming quite a wealth of information, himself.

I can hear Caela crying. I'll finish up the record at my next available occasion.

19th of June, M.E. 761

I finally caught a glimpse of Gladio today. He happened to have taken the hunt I myself had chosen, and we thought it best to team up. I've never met such a rabid band of anaks. Gladio thinks they were sick with the Starscourge. Therefore, I won't be harvesting the meat. A bloody shame. Wiz loves anak stew, and I've always felt I owe the man more than I could possibly repay.

I'm on my way back to the homestead. I haven't held my little loaf of bread in nearly three weeks. I did find a stuffed toy in the ruins of a home in the Cleigne area. It's sobering to try to determine its origins, what the story of the previous owner may have been. However, after a proper washing, this item will be reborn into its original purpose—that of comfort and delight to a small child.

Aleya keeps asking me if she can help in any way. I continue to assure her that her assistance is not required. I have plenty of help from others. Even Dino's been a big help. It can be taxing to coordinate everything alone, but I don't want to trouble her. She seems tired and even a bit depressed. We barely are able to enjoy any time together at all due to that fatigue. I sorely miss her.

23rd of August, M.E. 761

I just realized the date; I overheard a hunter mention it today in passing. I detest leaving any errand unfinished, but I must return to the ranch at once. It occurs to me I've missed celebrating the birth of my wife.

27th of August, M.E. 761

Aleya is a truly forgiving soul, and I am most grateful. She seemed a bit cool at first. I could be imagining it, but she acted as if she didn't want my affections. Otherwise, why would she have turned her head? For that matter, Wiz was standing off from my company as well. Caela was the only one who seemed truly exuberant to see me. Then again, she's a child, and can be easily bribed.

All was well by the end of the evening, it seems. I'm sure they all understood the error was not intentional. After all, I've never been tardy for anything a day in my life. This would be the first infraction. I'm blind, after all. I have no way of seeing time or date. I have to inquire, and I must pay perfectly close attention to even date my entries. As I was working alone for most of the last three weeks, I'm certain I had a valid excuse.

I got to spend some much-needed time with my family. I've missed so much. Aleya and Wiz have built a new stable, and have re-routed power from the meteorwell to provide hot water whenever needed. And, perhaps the worst of it, I've missed Caela's first word. It was apparently during a screaming fit and cried for 'dada' quite clearly. I was devastated. Missing such an event is akin to missing Noct's ascension. She's growing so much faster than I like. Damn this confounded night for keeping me away!

Wiz suspects Aleya is unhappy, but she assures me she is. I did tell her I would try to drop in more frequently. I've missed them all—so much that I grow unbelievably melancholy when I think about it.

She's again asked if she can assist me; She nearly begged me to be of service, but I declined. She's nearly single-handedly raising our child in this bedarkened world. I don't want to burden her with more.

4th of October, M.E. 761

Ignis had received a message via a Glaive that Wiz requested his return to the ranch. Caela had taken ill, the Glaive had said. He needed to say no more. Ignis dropped everything and departed immediately. Caela was the song of his heart. He couldn't bear to think of her suffering in any way. She loved her mother, but he knew he was the only one who could truly comfort her when there was something serious amiss.

He could hear his daughter crying long before he spurred the chocobo beyond the final hill's crest. He had very much wished Ebony would have responded to his whistle, but she had always been a free spirit. Even if she were close enough to hear it, she only came when she desired to do so. If she had only come, he would have been back much sooner.

He leapt from the chocobo before it came to a full stop. Wiz was standing in the yard, but Ignis barely noticed as he rushed past him, chasing the sound of wailing that pulled at his heart strings. His heart hammered until he could find the source. There they were, then—he rounded the building and saw Caela and Aleya's distinctive green shadows on the black canvas of his vision, merged together as Aleya bounced her up and down and cooed at her.

His wife didn't see or hear him coming. She was startled for a moment, and then shocked to see the person pulling Caela from her arms was her husband. She stared at him blankly.

"There now," he coaxed the baby, holding her against him. "What is it, dear heart? Hmm? What's wrong?" He addressed his voice to Aleya now, and it sharply changed; It became demanding and somewhat stern. "What's wrong with her?"

"I…" She was surprised at his tone, and stammered for a moment. Her voice sounded thin and frail. "I-I don't know. Dr. Eiler came by; He said it was most likely a stomach ache. Possibly triggered from something she's eating or drinking, but we don't know what could possibly be causing this." She rubbed her palm across her wearied face.

Caela screamed again, tears running down her face.

"How long has she been like this?"

"Three days." Now she began rubbing at her forehead, and she was glad Ignis was blind; She wouldn't have wanted him to lay eyes on him as she looked right now. She imagined she looked as if she had crawled out of a freshly dug grave. A fat tear rolled down her face, simply from fatigue.

"Three?" He exclaimed. He kissed his daughter's warm forehead. "Dearest!" He cooed to his daughter, and pulled her away to shift her to his other shoulder. She let out a loud wail of misery until she safely nestled against him again. "She must be miserable!" He cried. He sounded very much like he was scolding.

She sighed, pausing for a moment, lost for words. "I…You-you didn't have to come, Ignis. I know you're busy. We could have…"

"Nonsense! She's my girl! Why would you think I wouldn't come?" With that, he turned on his heel and picked up where Aleya left off, walking her around the homestead and talking sweetly to her.

Aleya watched for a moment, a bit bewildered. She knew it was silly to be offended, but she tried very hard not to be as Ignis called their daughter 'my girl'. It was true-Caela was His Girl, after all. But it had also always been Aleya's pet name from her husband. It was shameful to feel jealous of her own daughter…wasn't it? Perhaps she was just tired and in a foul mood, she thought. But it was certainly true that Caela was all he could thing about at the moment; Not that she could blame him. She sighed before turning and walking back around the corner to the front yard.

Wiz watched her for a moment, and watched Ignis taking great pains to soothe his child. And miracle of miracles—Caela was finally starting to calm herself. It was the very reason Wiz had secretly slipped him the message. He knew full well Ignis had a magic about him that Aleya just didn't seem to have with Caela. The little girl wanted her father, and that was that.

Still, he couldn't help but fume at Aleya's misery, as well. He saw her dragging her feet, slightly drooped, heading for the kitchen. He intercepted her as quickly as his rheumatism allowed. "Now where are you going, girl?"

"Ignis is home…I need to make him something to eat…" Her voice sounded sad and confused, and a bit like she had just woken up and hadn't got her bearings, yet.

He told her to rest immediately. She didn't want to, but he insisted. She burst into tears for what seemed to be no reason at all, and finally did as she was told. She didn't have the strength to argue with him, and even a short discourse seemed too much for her to take. She slowly made her way to the bedroom, and it gave Wiz a chance to speak his mind to Ignis.

He approached and Ignis acknowledged him. "Thank you for looking after them in my absence, as always." He kept a slight humming tune as he walked in slow circles around Wiz, only pausing his humming to speak to the fowl-keeper. As for Caela, her screams had dissolved into hiccupping sobs.

Wiz never knew quiet could sound so sweet. He would have thought Caela would scream herself into a hoarse voice at least two days ago, but the girl could keep at it as long as she wanted; pausing for (blissfully sweet) short naps when exhaustion overtook her.

"As always," he repeated, a slight edge to his tone. "That's what families do. We look after each other."

Ignis paused to kiss Calea on the cheek as he continued to pace in slow circles, rubbing her little tiny spine and shoulder blades. "What caused this? Something in the food? Has she been eating well enough?" He knew she was now eating soft food, although he apparently missed that milestone, as well.

"I reckon she eats as much as we do, at least for her size."

Ignis frowned. "Has Aleya been eating well enough?"

"Oh, you're interested, huh?"

Ignis stopped in his tracks. What in Eos did that mean? "Of course I am!"

Wiz grunted under his breath. "She eats what she can. The supply of food from Altissia is becomin' scarce. Game is rare, and what we can find sometimes has the Scourge. Fish are starting to thin out. We have some non-perishables to supplement with, though. Thank the gods for that. If that runs out, I suppose we'll have to start eating chocofeed." Wiz put his hands on his hips.

"Ah, I see. I'll relay a message to the Marshal. Perhaps some of the Crownsguard could procure the items we'll need, or at least share them if passing by. I'll have them check in."

He raised his voice slightly. "She don't need the Crownsguard! And she sure as Chocogreens don't the Marshal! She needs you!"

"I'm here, am I not?" The tone was innocent and slightly confused.

He huffed at him. "Yes, son. You're here. But you're gone all the time."

"I need to help Noct to..."

"Yeah, I know. But that little girl there—she hasn't stopped cryin' in days. Look at her, now." Caela had indeed quieted, resting her weary head on her father's shoulder. "But I wasn't talkin' about your kid. I'm talkin' about our other girl."

Ignis felt distress. Wiz certainly wasn't telling him anything he didn't know. It troubled him on a daily basis. He felt agonizingly exasperated. He didn't know what everyone expected him to do. He couldn't be in two places at once. "Leya?"

"You know how long she's been at this? Three long days, worried out of her mind, all alone, exhausted. You pop in out of nowhere and you don't even give her a hello! You took her baby away as if she were incompetent, interrogated her, and then dismissed her."

Ignis' mouth fell open partly through Wiz's rant, flabbergasted. He looked stricken. It had never occurred to him that his actions would have been perceived in such a way, and he was mortified by it. "I…That's hardly what I meant! I was simply concerned for…"

"Of course you were! Any decent father would be! But son, you heard her cry for two minutes. How do you think the little lady feels? She wants to cry as loud as that little one, there. All she's said for these three days is 'Oh, Wiz, what is Ignis gonna say? What is Ignis gonna think? Ignis would be so upset if he knew she was in such a state.' Damn, son, it's nice to see a devoted girl for a change, but she's practically obsessive! You're the smart one! Can't you figure out what she was thinkin'? How she must feel? She was tryin' her best to take care of her daughter—for your sake as much as hers. And now you tramp in and treat her as if she were doin' a poor job of it! Hell! It's a recipe for a breakdown!"

It stung badly. Wiz was angry...Had he ever sworn before? He had also noticed Aleya's weakness. She had always had a crippling fear of letting Ignis down in some way. Perhaps if they hadn't started their relationship as employer and subordinate-if she had been at a cafe he frequented, or some such-things would have been different. But as he had ordered her about the first couple of years of their relationship, and she took strict care to make sure he was perfectly satisfied with her job performance, he supposed he still held some sort of presence that made her nervous. And how he had treated her! After all the stress she had been under! Not only had she thought she was failing her daughter, Ignis imagined, she also thought she was woefully failing him. And dashing in to rescue them both in such an abrupt manner with such poor timing was probably not his finest moment, in hindsight. "I hadn't realized." Wiz was correct, of course. They both needed his attention. He patted his daughter's back absent-mindedly, feeling her begin to sink in to him and relax. "As soon as Caela is properly asleep, I'll go see to Leya."

"There's something else," Wiz told him, his voice dropping a bit as if he wanted to keep it confidential. "Somethin' that happened, that I figure you oughta know. The Marshal came by to drop off a message, and he had some words for her."

Ignis's eyes narrowed and his brow slanted towards the center of his nose. "Tell me."

Ignis was a man of his word. Despite the urgency to get back on the road, he couldn't leave his Leya in such a state. So, as soon as Caela was asleep, he passed her off to Wiz and saw his way to the guest bedroom. He stood in the dark, listening. Any other man—any man with eyes, at least—would have thought she was sleeping. Ignis knew better. He was very well acquainted with her sleeping habits; He had slept in the same space with her for years. He knew the natural rise and rhythm of her breath when she was unconscious. No, when he first entered, the breath was shuddering and wild, and now at his standing there, attuned to her, her breath abruptly stalled.

He pulled his dark glasses off and set them on the bedside table. Afterwards, he crept toward her with a sympathetic smile. Laying behind her, he reached over her to take her hand. She breathed again, but she didn't move. She never raised her arms or backed into his chest. She ignored him altogether. "Leya," he drawled, pulling her hair away to softly, "Dearest. I'm so very sorry. I never meant to slight you. I was simply concerned. I lost all my sense of composure. Please forgive me."

She let out a strained breath and gave a slight sniff, but said nothing.

It was obvious she was upset and had been crying. Whether she was angry or simply sad and bewildered—or maybe so exhausted that she was bordering on hysteria—he wasn't sure. "Love," he told her, reaching across to grasp her hand. It had been clinched in a fist and pressed against her chest. "Say something." And when she still didn't reply, he thought for a moment on how to respond. "I've missed you terribly. Are you determined to punish me?"

It worked as he had hoped. She rolled over to her back quickly, completely concerned, determined to put him at ease. "No! Ignis, I didn't mean to…!" She was cut off as he pressed his mouth to hers. She was surprised for a moment, and then went completely soft, giving in to his affection.

It was tenderly sincere action on his part, for he had truly missed her. He was always away; He hardly ever got to hold her anymore. He hadn't heard her voice in what seemed to be an eternity. He missed the scent of her hair and her sweet whispers. He missed her hands and fingers, her eyes and nose, that curve of her neck. He could find himself easily swept away in the moment, but he remembered how truly exhausted she must be. She was most likely ready to faint. Showing affection now required empathy rather than passion. He broke away from her slowly. "There," he murmured to her, rolling her over by her shoulder and drawing her into his arms. He rested his chin on her scalp and held her. "That's better, isn't it?"

She nodded a bit.

"Whatever are you crying for?"

"I wasn't crying."

"Ah, but you were."

"I have a bad headache, that's all." She paused as Ignis kissed her forehead sweetly in reply. "Igs. You didn't have to come. You didn't have to drop everything."

"Where else would I be, at a time like this?"

She sounded a bit cross when she replied. "Saving the world?"

He chuckled. "I suppose you're right."

She hesitated before speaking. He could feel her breath on his throat as she worked up the nerve to try again. "This—looking after things here—it's the one job I have left. You don't have to run over here for every bump and scrape. You have far more important things to do. What if you're not ready when Noct comes back? What if I hinder your chances?"

"Leya," he whispered, feeling drowsiness kick in. "What's done is done. I'm here now, and I'm woefully exhausted. I want to enjoy sleeping in my own bed, with My Own Girl." He sighed, more from fatigue than frustration. "No more talk. Not now. Let's get some rest, shall we?"

She moved her head to a more neutral position, and he felt her body relax once more. Just as he was beginning to doze off, he felt the splash of a hot tear drop hit his skin. Sadly, he was too near sleep to respond quickly. "I love you so much," she whispered. He was still pulling himself out of a stupor when she fell into one of her own.

He lay there for a few moments, trying to determine why that phrase had been uttered in sadness rather than contentment. Perhaps it was as Wiz told him; Perhaps she was brooding over the visit by the Marshal, and was gravely affected. Wiz had overheard, and Ignis was most grateful he had. He must counter it as soon as possible.

'Let her rest now,' he told himself. 'We'll address it in the morning.' And he fell into a deep and contented sleep; A kind of comforting sleep that he only felt when holding her.

5th of October, M.E. 761

"Coffee?" Ignis sat on the side of the bed, setting the mug down next to her. She had been awake for nearly an hour, her restlessness causing him to wake as well. She still didn't seem to be feeling well. He hated to discuss problems with her now, but now was his best chance, as Caela was still sleeping off her three-day tantrum, he had to be leaving in short order, and Wiz had no idea either of them were yet awake.

Still lounging, she rolled over and looked at him in surprise. "I thought you left." Again, squeezing at her forehead with her fingers as if her head were giving her the most intense protestations.

"Why would you think so?"

"Because you're busy. You're always busy."

He paused the action of raising the mug to his mouth for a moment, catching the resentful tone in her voice.

She must have noticed. "I—I mean, you have to get back. Don't you?" He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "Of course you do. Everyone is counting on you, after all."

He took a slow sip of his coffee. "Like the Marshal?" He guessed.

She hesitated, and then frowned. "Did Wiz say something?"

"I would say he told me everything, at least as far as I know."

She sat back against the headboard and began wringing her fingers together—a continual interlocking and twisting motion that had always been her nervous habit. It had long signaled when she was truly anxious. "He shouldn't have."

"Why? Should I not know?"

"You have enough to deal with."

"So said the Marshal..."

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

He sighed and handed her the coffee mug sitting next to her. "Here, before you twist your knuckles off."

She didn't wonder how he knew. They had been together for six years, and he had overcome his disability a long time ago. She took the mug as if it were some sort of lifeline, clinging to it with both hands.

"You're so easily influenced," Ignis began.

She raised her eyes to him sharply. "'Easily influenced'?"

"Yes. Those years where you kept your distance, noting every glance or sarcastic whisper that floated our way, urging me to treat you cooly and professionally."

"I was your secretary at the time."

"Partner," he corrected in a kindly manner, as if she had forgotten. "Assistant." He took another sip of his coffee.

He was typical Ignis, she noted. Cool, calm, collected. The practical thinker in a swirling mist of chaos. Sometimes these little things didn't seem to affect him at all, and he spoke as if he were condescending to her. "I was looking out for you!" She argued with distinct irritation. "I was trying to protect your reputation!"

"Yes, and aren't you making the same mistake now?"

She bit her lip and dug her fingertips into the mug, wishing for all the world she could sling it away and leave the room. "A mistake?! Aren't you the one making the mistake? I don't have to remind you how important this is. Why would you take time away from—from….saving the entire planet? Just to come here and rock Caela to sleep? That's insane!"

"Not just Caela," he told her, brushing off the 'insane' comment, and responding quickly with a sweeter tone. He realized he was making her upset, though he couldn't figure out exactly why. He thought perhaps she was upset that he once again prioritized his daughter over her. "I desperately wished to be here with you, Leya. I always do. I've missed you, My Girl." He set a hand on her knee, but she flinched as if she didn't want it there.

"There's too much at stake. It's not just about you and me anymore."

"Perhaps to no one else," he told her with a soft smile.

She stared at him in disbelief. "How can you say that? How? When it's Noct and the planet and the Starscourge? What about the daylight? Isn't that worth more, Ignis?"

"Leya." He took her mug away again and set them both aside. He grasped both of her hands in his. "Of course my duty is to Noct; Of course I want to welcome him back. Of course I have a role to play in resurrecting the dawn. As I've said often, Noct must always be the utmost priority." He clutched her hands tighter. "But I thought I've made it very clear before; This world means nothing to me without you in it. I don't care what anyone else thinks or says. Let them bloody well talk. I thought us past all such trepidation. I thought after all this time, you might have some sense of confidence."

"Confidence?" She tried to pull away, but he held on tighter. Anytime they had ever argued, he was like this: Kiss her before she could talk, block her exit, hold her tight if she wanted to pull away, move in closer if she wanted space. It was as if he were forcing her: to bow his viewpoint, to concede the argument, to yield to his affection. It always worked. She thought with irritation that he knew her too well. He knew she would always yield to him. Even in that, he was composed and confident; The indomitable taskmaster. "What confidence should I have? You won't even let me do simple tasks for you, anymore. No, you handle them yourself, or give them to a child like Talcott…"

Employing Talcott's help had been her idea, but he didn't want to add fuel to the fire of her resentment. "It's not that I think you incapable," He reached out to touch her cheek, but she turned her head sharply. It stung him. She had never done such a thing before. She had always been the one to submit. Deep down, he knew he held some sort of commanding presence over her, as Aleya had always shown him the deepest of respect, loved him and wanted to please him, and was incredibly forgiving and kind. Now that she rejected his affection, it hurt and perplexed him. He felt a bit of fear rising. This argument was different. "I just don't want to overburden you."

"What else have I to do around here? You could let me do something."

He tried to cover his impatience by forcing his voice to be appeasing. "You are doing something! You're looking after Caela! You're taking care of our…."

"Is that all? In that case, I'm no longer your partner. I'm not your wife, Ignis Scientia. I'm your nanny." With that, she jerked her hands away from him and crossed her arms.

That hurt far worse. What had gotten into her? 'I'm not your wife'?! It shocked him. The fear pitched forward a bit more, that nagging voice inside of him that had always told him one day she would grow tired of his fealty and duty. For a long, long time he had worried one day her love would grow cold when he couldn't give her undisturbed affection; And romantic affection was already a recognized and woefully worrisome failing on his part. Romance was a skill in which he had never been-and never would be-proficient. He told himself to stay calm. Obviously she still cared about him; Otherwise, the sweet moments they had grasped the evening before would never have occurred. But her willfulness was incredibly hard to accept. She had always been headstrong and independent, railing against him if she took a mind to do so. Now felt so differently, however. It felt like the arguments he had witnessed between his mother and father. Hadn't his mother grown tired of his father's obligations? Hadn't she abandoned him for it? And Leya...his very soul...!

He felt his heart give a tremor and race away suddenly with that dreadful thought. He heard the slight hitch of his rapid inhale. No, he told himself, she was not his mother. She wasn't arrogant, headstrong, or selfish. If she ever intentionally wounded him—which she never had—he knew that she would have done it only for his own good, and would be completely grieved in the process. Even now, she was trying to look after him and offer him good counsel. And perhaps her last exclamation had come because she had suffered his absence as much as he had suffered it himself. He also supposed he had implied that she was no longer good for anything else except an occasional overnight accommodation and raising his child. He took a deep breath through the nose, trying to keep his composure.

He tried again. "That's not true," he told her, again reaching for her cheek. This time she didn't move away. She even turned to him. It was progress. He caressed her face for a moment, marveling again at how small it felt under his hand. He traced her eyebrow, her nose, her lips with his forefinger—the only way a blind man could read her expression or truest emotions. As he did so, her face relaxed slightly. That too, was progress, for it signaled her compassion for him. "I only meant to look after you. Don't you have enough to contend with? You've no one else to help you. Last night, for example. You were exhausted to the point of tears."

"It's my job to be exhausted! It's my job to look after her! I can handle it! You don't have to rush in to my rescue all the time! That must be such a burden."

"No, Aleya, it's not a burden. I…"

"The Marshal is right," she said, cutting him off, though her voice was softer. "It's best that I keep quiet when something is happening here. I don't want to hinder you. What's worse, what if you are distracted when you need your focus? What if something were to happen to you? What would I do if I knew you got hurt because I couldn't handle things over here? Or…"

"Leya, please," he told her, his voice breaking a bit. He felt that familiar pain in his throat, signaling a swell of emotion he couldn't keep back. "Please. Don't leave me in the dark."

She was startled. She read his expression for a moment, and sat up quickly, taking his hand. "Ignis."

"Don't tell me it's for my own good, and don't shut me out. Would you appreciate it if I desperately needed your help but didn't tell you? We are partners, Aleya. We're closer than any two people can possibly be. We're supposed to be connected and interdependent. That's the nature of who we are." He turned away slightly, shamed at his suddenly delicate emotional state. "What's more...you are the only light I have left to me."

She moved towards him, taking his other hand as well. "Igs….I-I didn't mean…" Her voice was full of empathy.

"We didn't plan to live this life. I always wanted better for us. And when things grew so dark, we still loved each other. I wanted to give you the best I could. I wanted us to travel about together until Noct returned. I never thought we'd have…." He paused, checking himself and rephrasing so that the conversation wouldn't take another misdirection. "I thought we'd have children later, in a brighter world. But it's happened, and I don't plan on apologizing to anyone regarding my affection or interest in my family."

She shook her head slowly, still assuming he couldn't connect with his higher priorities.

"Since I'm not able to be with you every day; Since I'm not able to care for my own child like a normal father would—and could, and should—these things unfortunately fall to you. I miss every milestone. I lay awake at night wishing with all my heart your head would be here." He touched the corner of his shoulder and chest. "Do you think it's easy for me? For my heart and mind to be constantly divided?! I have no choice! I'm not able to be here constantly, and I hate it intensely. But I cannot be here. The tasks that would fall to a father unfortunately fall to you. I need you to assist me in what I cannot attend to myself; That has never changed."

"I-I know. I'm sorry.."

"But I don't want you to suffer alone, either. If something requires my aid, I wish to be notified. I will drop everything at once and give you my full attention."

"You make it sound like a business relationship," she muttered softly.

He didn't take offense. Instead, he smiled. "I'm not so certain. I don't keep my other business associates warm at night." He ran his fingers down her throat. He paused at her suprasternal notch as she took his hand in both of hers.

"I'm afraid," she admitted, suddenly.

Ah, safe ground at last. He was sure he could pull off the role of protective confidant. "Dearest; Whatever of?"

"That….that one day…" She took a very long pause, obviously debating how or if she should tell him. The she blurted it out as quickly as she could. "One day you'll get tired of getting pulled away from Noct. You'll feel like you made a mistake. I'll be your biggest regret." He could feel her swallow hard under his fingertips. "I'm afraid."

So the struggle had indeed begun. Even she, who understood him and his duties in every way, found it difficult to balance his desires with his responsibilities. She doubted his resolve to be satisfied in being pulled between his King and his wife. Or—he mentally checked himself—more specifically, she doubted he could love them both. He had been away much, much more time than he had been at home. And when he did show himself, he was either exhausted or scraping every spare moment to spend time with his quickly-growing little girl. She felt as if he might abandon her altogether. That made the pain in his throat even worse. "Never!" He told her in a determined voice, pulling her to him. "You've already been my biggest regret, Leya. When I thought you were dead, I..." He paused, suppressing a shudder. Dark days those were, indeed. "Never could I grow tired of you, My Girl. I need you too desperately."

She clinched his shirt sleeve as if begging him to stay.

He spoke so low he nearly whispered, finding he was trying to calm himself more than her. "I know things aren't as they should be. Believe me, Leya, if we were back in Insomnia, I'd have you stationed in our grand home, on the higher decks of the Citadel. I'd be with you every single day. You'd fall asleep in my arms, and we would wake just the same. I'd make you coffee every morning—just the way you like it. We'd go for grand dinners as often as possible. I'd sneak away on breaks just to come home and revel in you for a while. We'd cook together. Rainy days in, sunny days out. And every tiny doubt and fear you have now would never trouble you."

She buried her face in his neck, clinging to him tighter.

"Unfortunately, my home at the moment is a fair distance away from my core duties. But it is as safe and as pleasant as I can possibly have it in this damned world, and it's all for you, Leya. I care nothing for the scent of chocobos or mucking stalls or the confinement of the meteorwell. But they are not for me. I want to give you what I can. Pray accept it."

"Of-of course-You don't think I'm ungrateful?!" The tiniest of sobs.

"No, of course not. I'm gone often, I know. Perhaps you feel my traveling is becoming burdensome; That I dread somehow returning here just so I can say I've appeased you. When in reality, my heart bleeds to return to this little rustic shack. I'd come to you any day, in the swiftest speed."

"Oh, Ignis!" She got to her knees and flung her arms around him, kissing him. "I'm so ashamed of myself! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! I didn't! I just haven't slept, and I've barely had coffee..."

He laughed aloud, venting relief that the argument seemed to have come to an end. He could never remember her so angry with him before. "That's certainly understandable."

"And I miss you."

He turned solemn. "I miss you, too. It won't be forever though, Leya. Noct is the Chosen King. The prophecy has always said he would return and banish the darkness. And when he does, by the gods, we're going to live the way we bloody well want."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't…It was a mistake on my part; A moment of weakness. I'll stop complaining about it."

He gave her a kind smile. "That's My Girl."

Aleya paused for a moment. He felt her stiffen a bit. He could almost sense her thinking. And then, slowly, she moved away from him. Her voice again turned a bit cool. "R-right. I'll be perfectly alright. So feel free to go. I won't complain at all. Stiff upper lip." She moved off the mattress and stood, attempting to leave.

So soon? He was confused. One moment fighting, the next clinging to him, now she wanted to kick him out? Was he missing something? Had he said something wrong? He reached out and grabbed her hand quickly. He was at a loss as to what was occurring, but he knew for all certainty he didn't want her to be hurt. "Leya. Sincerely; I do love you."

She turned back to him and planted a soft and slow kiss on his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth, where the accidental kiss had occurred those years ago. "I love you too, Igs."

And with that, she pulled her hand from his and left the room. Alone, he again wondered why her voice sounded so sad when she spoke the words he most wanted to hear.

5th of December, M.E. 761

"You're still walking weird."

Ignis stood at the bedroom dresser, wrapped in a towel, savoring the cool environment he was in after having a virtual sauna of a bath. "Am I? I'm feeling unusually out of sorts this evening. Perhaps I'm getting old?"

"Sure. Old. At twenty-seven."

"I'll be twenty-eight in a few months."

She rolled her eyes. "Come here, old man." She had him lay face down on the mattress, and began kneading his muscles.

The relief was gloriously intense. He let out a groaning sigh as she worked over his neck and back. He had no idea her small, thin fingers could work his tense muscles so well. It was heavenly; Amazingly pleasurable. "You're…." He groaned again. "Doing an excellent job, I must say."

"My pleasure. Consider it a slight pay-back for all the trouble I've caused you."

"No payback necessary." He held his breath as she ground her fist forcefully into one particularly tender spot. "However, I will allow it."

"You've been quiet today."

"Have I?"

"Yes." She moved to hover over him, straddling him and running stiff hands down the length of both sides of his spine. He felt his toes curl. He laid there for a moment at her mercy, too involved in the raptured sweet pain to move or speak.

"What's bothering you?"

He somehow found his voice after forcing his pressed lips apart. "I had an upset today."

"Tell me." Thumbs under his shoulder blades now, rolling the rocks of his tendons and nerves underneath in slow circles.

Goosebumps hit him. He wasn't sure he could answer her. But somehow, between grunts and gasps, he managed to tell her about the refugee family he had run into; That they had tried to hold out in their own home, and had managed to do so for this long. However, eventually they were defeated in the worst possible way—when they lost their only little son. She agreed it was upsetting, it was upsetting her just to hear about it, and told him she was sorry for his experience. And as if to prove it, she stopped the rapturously brutal clenching of his muscles and turned to soft and smooth motion of caresses, running from his shoulders to his lumbar spine.

He relaxed into the mattress with a sigh. "It's why I'm working so hard," he mumbled into the comforter. "We've all lost so much. No one has a monopoly on suffering, anymore. People are beginning to lose hope in the absence of the King and Oracle. I thought myself immune to it by now. However, losing a child is….too difficult of a concept to grasp."

"I understand." On to the biceps and deltoids, now. He flinched a bit when she squeezed, and she softened her touch. "I'm sorry. I know it must have been hard for you." She leaned forward and ran a hand over his damp hair.

Chills hit him again, but for a different reason. He checked himself mentally, forcing his mind to stay on track. "I don't like being away. Can you imagine if it was Caela?"

She stopped with a shudder. "I don't want to."

"I don't either."

She put a soft hand on his shoulder. "It won't be Caela, Ignis."

"I'm always away, and I worry constantly. I leave my wife and child alone in a dark and dangerous world? What kind of husband and father am I?"

She pinched his side, hard. "Stop that!"

He jolted at the pain and rolled to his side under her. "Why on Eos did you do that?"

"Because I don't want you to get moody and depressed!"

He rubbed his side, the sore muscles in his back instantly forgotten.

"You have enough to worry about, without worrying about us. It's like you said last time you were here. You've put us in the safest, nicest place you can find. We've got the meteorwell, and the chocobos. If something should happen, we can be at the Havenrock in less than five minutes."

He sighed. "I know that."

"And trust me." She raised her knee to move away from him and stood up. "I won't let anything happen to Caela. I may not have graduated from the Crownsguard, but I work a pretty mean bow and arrow."

"Yes, I know. Technically, you're a drop-out."

"Ignis!" She pushed his shoulder, and he fell to his back.

He chuckled, suddenly in a better mood. "Aleya Scientia—Altissian Academic Hopeful, the Oracle's retainer, future Ambassador of Lucis, I'd wager—a drop-out. It would be quite the scandal if known. Imagine what my mother would say."

She went to wrestle him—all in grand fun, of course. He fended her off for a few minutes until they were both done laughing and playing, and then he tugged her down to lay on his chest. "Here, Love. I understand that's where my girls find the most comfort." They cuddled in the dark for a moment in silence. Then the mood again grew somber. "Would if we could stay this way indefinitely."

She patted his stomach. "Don't worry about Caela. I can't do much anymore, but I can at least protect your children. I won't fail you in that much, at least."

"And when have you ever failed me?"

"Haven't I?"

"No!" He exclaimed, somewhat irritably. "I don't know how often I must tell you so before you finally understand."

"I feel you're being charitable."

"Nonsense." He couldn't help keeping a bit of frustration out of his tone.

She expected him to go on, to give her some assurance that she was still his right arm. He hadn't let her work on a thing since the day Caela was born, or even before that. Her eye hadn't scoured one letter of ancient text. He never filled her in on his discoveries anymore, or told her much of what happened on his journey. No more did he ask her advice on what he should do next. No matter how many times he said he needed her, she simply felt he didn't. He could stand perfectly well without her. Now that she couldn't keep up with him, she felt like she was being left far behind. It would have helped if he would have at least given her metaphorical beckoning call. She still held an unresolved fear that one day he would simply march off into the distance.

One thing was certain; He would never leave Caela. The man breathed for his daughter. It was like she had been carved out of his own heart. Maybe Aleya could at least hold some value to him on that account. If she loved him well enough, and loved her daughter well enough, they might make it through this little storm intact. "It's a mother's job to protect. I won't let anything happen to your kids."

He paused. "'Kids'?" He echoed, deep trepidation in his tone.

"I kind of hoped one day we'd have another one."

He relaxed again and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

She noticed. So, that's one more thing she needed to mentally carry along. He didn't want any more children; At least for now. It was good to know where he stood on such a subject. Not that she could get access to birth control, anymore. She doubted even he could.

As if reading her thoughts, he commented, "I'm surprised we haven't already."

The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of how they would be received. "It must be because you're never here."

He fell silent and solemn. He knew full well she spoke the truth. This slog of a life wasn't fair to any of them. All they knew how to do these days was to fight for survival and cling to hope. They were either too busy or too tired for much else. "I'm sorry," he told her, and meant it.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

He didn't reply.

"Why don't you get some sleep? You're tired." She sat up and moved away from him.

He sat up as quickly as his worn body would allow. "Leya! I…"

"It's okay, Ignis. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He wanted to go after her, to shower her with the type of affection she was obviously yearning for. And yet he found his muscles screaming in protest. And despite his best efforts, unconsciousness took him well before he could think of overcoming any physical debility.

His very last thought before falling into a semi-comatose state was one filled with fear. 'Astrals, please don't ever let it be Aleya or Caela'.

[Direct Journal Entries]:

8th of December, M.E. 761

I spoke with the Marshal today; The first time I've met his acquaintance since learning he had spoken to Leya in my absence. Therefore, I respectfully confronted him and let my feelings be known—that I would prefer him never mention such a thing to Aleya again. I insisted if he had some concern, it should always come through myself only. He didn't seem pleased that I approached him in such a manner, but I've certain I've at least won a bit of respect.

Aleya has always been the sort to think severely of herself; To feel she doesn't quite measure to the standards everyone expects of her. She's so eager to please that if she feel's she's made a mistake, she'll be rather punishing to herself. Despite her brilliance, her kindness, and her beauty, she's deeply insecure. Sadly, her biggest insecurity is our relationship. She always fears I'll be displeased with her, somehow.

I've worked so very long to clear up this fallacy in her thinking. I've striven very hard to convince her of her worth. I feel I've made at least some progress, and I really hope no one sets me back by telling her I don't have the time to waste on her, or to imply her wellbeing is some sort of burden.

Nothing can be further from the truth, but the seed has always been there, and I'm afraid the Marshal thoroughly watered it. I wonder if I'll ever be able to uproot the growth sprouted.

On to other things: The Marshal informs me that raiders are still a problem. Apparently, there is a particular band that has raised a scarlet-colored Behemoth from birth, and trained it as a calf to do their bidding. When I told him my tale of how Aleya and I had been cornered by a Behemoth nearly two years hence, and described the encounter, he agreed that it sounded to be the same one. She was no doubt hunting for any unsuspecting travelers. As we encountered her so near the ranch, I was immediately alarmed. However, the Marshal assures me that they stick to a definitive pattern along the refugee routes. Most likely, she had merely wandered off a bit, he said. I can only hope he is correct. Should they find that the ranch is fully operational, it will be a prime target.

The Marshal says they've set up checkpoints and security along known routes to discourage their pillaging. I pray he finds them soon. I'll sleep somewhat more soundly at night.

13th of December, M.E. 761

I surprised Leya today by dropping by. I think she expected me to be gone longer. I'm not sure why.

I had made a quick stop at a local scholar's library, and I presented her the books I had salvaged. I was afraid she'd go stark mad if I didn't give her something to lay her eyes on. Perhaps that will keep her occupied for a while.

These last few visits with her have been strained, but my earnestness and eager desire to rush back to her after this mission surely meant something. I told her we hadn't a proper anniversary, and I intended to resolve the issue. One would hope she would understand the point I was trying to make. I sincerely thought it may have worked. Her guard went down for a while. Over dinner, we felt to be Ignis and Aleya once more. It felt like our later days at the Citadel, when we were so open and easy with one another. I've sorely missed that. Wiz kept Caela properly out from under our feet while we savored the evening. I cooked for her. I felt she was happy, and I began to feel a bit of relief that the worst of our little misunderstanding might be over.

To my dismay, however, I woke up to find her in racking tears. She wouldn't tell me why she was upset, no matter how much I asked, and once she had been found out, the tears quickly dried up. She then proceeded to cling to me for dear life. She acted practically terrified. I could scarcely breathe.

I don't think it was a nightmare.

And yet, it is.

I feel I'm somehow failing her, but how do I repair the damage when she won't communicate clearly where the difficulty lies? She won't open her mouth at all, no doubt fearing she'll trouble me, pull me away from my grand purpose, or that I might somehow criticize her. I'm at a complete loss, and to be perfectly honest with myself, I'm a bit afraid of what's coming next.

I know I shouldn't leave her in such a state—I've never known her to be like this before—but I have no choice. I already gave my word to the Marshal. I'll help him hunt down a rabid Aspidochelon that has been harming the hunters that go near the Old Lestallum area. Would that I didn't have to walk this appallingly thin line between duty and home! It seemed so simple when I married her, and yet...Am I truly able to serve them both?