[Direct Journal Entry]:
14th of July, ME 760
It's true that I've been restless. It's true that Aleya is beginning to lose patience with her confinement. It's also true that this month has been one of the most peaceful and pleasant of my life. Since the old days in Insomnia, we've hardly ever taken the time to simply talk. There was always work to be done, always more important things on which to focus, one crisis after the other in which to center our efforts. I feel I'm closer to her now than I ever have been. I don't think we've ever allowed time to simply focus entirely on one another. So, in a way, this incident with Alvor has been a bit of an unexpected blessing.
Not to say we're entirely without difficulty. The first few weeks I recall I was going mad with anxiety. I could hardly sleep, and when I did, I was troubled by nightmares. I worked myself ragged tending to her care, and she grew more anxious as I did so, telling me I was overly-protective again, accusing me of hovering. I do admit we argued more recently than we ever have. Although, I can't say it troubles me. Our spats are very mild and short-lived. We never go to sleep angry. We usually see our way thorough it in the same setting. Perhaps that comes from years of working together, learning how to respectfully argue our point. Maybe it comes from years of looking after Noct and being expected to retain perfect self-control. And, it's very possible that it's simply because we pair so well.
In any event, there's been no further health scares. We've gotten more accomplished in these last two weeks than the last two years—thanks to Prompto doing the leg-work, freeing us to work on translating together. Two heads, I'm told, are always better than one. While I'll admit I rarely find that true in my case, it does happen when I work with her. She's brilliant.
I've not seen Gladio since shortly after my wedding. We didn't part on the best of terms. He's got an interesting perspective on duty, and no doubt finds my matrimony as an unwelcome distraction and an annoyance. I felt like him once; Before I met her. All he needs is to find the proper woman, and that particular viewpoint will be long lost. I guarantee it.
Iris has become quite the hunter, I've heard. I suppose I shouldn't have expected differently. She is an Amicitia, after all. Though, it is hard to imagine. She's such a caring soul.
Speaking of caring souls, Aleya hasn't once forgotten to look after me, despite her own concerns. I feel as if she must be able to read my mind. I've never known anyone like her. It's why I'm so afraid of losing her. No one would ever hold a candle to her. She amazes me. Now that I have her, I'm not sure I could exist without her again.
"The bath is drawn. Are you ready?" Ignis leaned over to help his wife up, but she pushed at his arm.
"Why don't you go first?"
"Don't be silly. I drew it for you."
"Yeah, but you need to relax a little. Take a long soak. That headache isn't going to cure itself." She turned a page in his notebook, skimming over his handwriting. At her side, Umbra panted happily, wagging his tail at Ignis.
He stood back, perplexed. "How do you know I have a headache?"
"Because I'm your wife." She picked up a pen and crossed something out; He could hear her scribbling something in. "You've had one for two days, now."
"I-I suppose it has been that long."
"I keep telling you not to stress yourself out. That's what you get for hovering."
He felt irritation rise. "I told you, I'm not hovering!"
"You are." She took his hand briefly with a sweet smile. "But it's okay. I forgive you."
"I'm only trying to look after you," he argued. "Would you prefer if I didn't care?"
She laughed softly. "Calm down, Lover. I'm teasing you."
"I'm in no mood." He sat on the side of the bed, sulkily. Umbra got up, and taking the long way around Aleya's feet, sat next to Ignis. He ran his hands through his fur and patted his side.
"All the more reason to shut down for a while. You're overtaxing yourself. When things are done, you don't sit still. You'll find something to do. You invent things to do. It's okay to relax. The world isn't going to end if you take a long bath."
"Easier said than done. I feel restless. I have to look after things. I owe Wiz, and who else could possibly take care of you like I can?" There was a pause in which she didn't reply, and he fell a swell of resentment. "Aleya! Do you have someone in mind?"
"What? No! Sorry….I think you got this word wrong in the translation at the Tomb of the Fierce."
He sighed as she crossed it out and scribbled in new notes. She was hardly one to lecture him about finding things to do.
"Anyway, think of it this way. Who is going to look after me when you go down?"
"I'm a long way from going down!"
"Oh, contrare! Look at what a bad mood you're in."
"I'm not in a bad mood!" He snapped back.
"Yes you are. But I understand. I would be in a bad mood too if I never slept, rationed coffee so I wouldn't have to leave to go get more, did all the cooking, mucked out the chocobo stalls….why Ignis Scientia! You're turning into a farm mom."
He flinched. He wasn't sure whether to be angry or embarrassed. He had tried to keep things well in hand for her sake. She had noticed everything. "A 'farm mother'?" He echoed in disbelief.
"Find a tame garula to milk, and the description would be perfect." She crossed something out again. "You misspelled this word, by the way. The ancient A was actually spelled with an I-E if it fell behind four consonants…H, P, X, and Z. You're slipping, Mr. Intellect."
That was it. He was insulted at her name-calling. He was irritable that she called him out on such a mistake when she knew perfectly well she was beyond him in ancient languages. He was frustrated at her poking fun at him for trying to take care of her. And, he was bloody tired. He twisted to turn and argue with her, but before he could, she pressed his lips to his with a chuckle. All the fight that had built up in his bones suddenly deflated immediately. She did know how to work him in all the right ways. "What was that for?"
She ran a hand through his hair. "For being you. Now, get going. I want to finish up what I'm working on, anyway. It'll take me about an hour; Plenty of time for you to work some of that angst out." She patted his chest with an 'off you go' gesture. "Don't come back until the water gets cold. And go to Hammerhead tomorrow. Go get your coffee. I'll stay here like a good girl and not move until you get back."
Yes, the ire was definitely gone. She was taking care of him the only way she could in her current circumstances, and he appreciated her for it. "Are you certain you won't need me?"
"I always need you, Igs. That's why I forced you to marry me."
'Forced'? Was she teasing him again, or was she serious? She had always stubbornly clung to her belief that she was merely an unqualified immigrant who had a stroke of good fortune. "That's not…"
She tapped his lip with her finger. "Please, Boss. For me? I don't like seeing you like this. Take better care of yourself." She went in to kiss him again, and then suddenly sat up quickly, putting a hand to her stomach. "Oof."
"What? What is it?!" Always the sudden jump to panic. He wondered if he would ever mellow out. Though, to be fair, things that seemed so insignificant to others usually ended up spelling disaster for them.
"Come here." She took his hand and passed it over her belly. "I think Baby agrees with me."
Ignis felt a definitive tap in his palm, a slight jerk in her womb. Her stomach quivered slightly, and there it was again—a pronounced, quick bump to his hand. Umbra got to his feet and sniffed at their hands in interest. Ignis broke into a grin. "Is it kicking? Has it done that before?"
She was smiling; He could hear it in her voice. "I think so. It was hard to tell. It's stronger now. He must be irritated with you."
"He?"
"Or she. Feels wrong to keep calling the baby 'It'."
"I suppose you're right." There it was again, the tap in his palm. Aleya watched him with bemusement as he marveled at it. After a while, it stopped, and all went calm again.
The awe of fatherhood was beginning to set in. He had given her a child, to be sure, but it was more. It was the relief that the baby was alert and healthy, nestled within the woman he loved so dearly. It was a beautiful, delightful emotion. He had never expected to be a parent so soon in his life, but he suddenly felt as if it were the thing he wanted most in the world.
"Go on," Aleya told him, softly. "Go enjoy your bath before the water gets cold."
"I love you, My Girl."
Her fingers curled over the back of his hand, and they held on for a moment. Umbra's tail wagged happily as he watched them. "We love you, too."
22nd of July, M.E. 760
Aleya looked up from the Record of Court Staff with surprise. "Scientia!" She exclaimed aloud.
Ignis was coming out of the shower, bedecked in nothing but a towel around his lower half. He ran his fingers over his wet hair. "Pardon?"
"Scientia! Scientia was her name!"
"Whose?" He pulled at his left ear, trying to clear it of water.
"The King's mysterious servant! The one that was rumored to have been concealed and protected by Ferus Lucis Caelum—the King buried at the Tomb of the Fierce."
"What are you talking about?" He went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of underwear.
"Remember you read that there was a woman—a mortal—who the Infernian had a 'relationship' with? That the woman conceived, and she had to be hidden away and protected? The King was given the Infernian's ultimate power and support in return for keeping his child hidden away in plain sight. Remember?"
"Something to that effect." Covered, he ran the towel over his hair and tossed it on the bed. "You believe the woman was a Scientia?"
"Not 'a' Scientia, Ignis. 'The' Scientia. She was the very first."
"You must be joking."
"No. I traced it back. It's the very first mention of a Scientia on the records. She popped in on the staff roster one year out of the blue; Serving as a retainer to the young Princess Glorine. About six months after the mention was made, she gave birth to a son named…" She flipped through the pages of the record almost frantically. "Accendo. Accendo Scientia. After that, there are Scientias year after year, constantly serving the Royal House. Ignis—is Ifrit your great great grandfather?"
Interested, he knelt over and looked down as if he could actually see the court record. "Is that the only reference we have? Something could have been omitted or transcribed in error. Perhaps a date is wrong."
"No, I checked it against the birth record in Lucis for that year, as well as obituaries and notifications of marriage. Accendo is the first-born Scientia of Lucian court history." She poked him in his bare stomach playfully. "Now you'll take it literally if I say 'My god, Ignis!'"
He felt a flush crawl across his face. It wasn't like her to be so forward. It must be the shift in her hormones. "Stop that. You've been tired. You need rest."
Her finger trailed to his chest.
He grabbed her hand. "Stop, Leya."
"I'm resting. I'm in bed, aren't I?"
He tried to change the subject. "And this Scientia—his mother. We've no mention of her prior?"
"She was literally non-existent prior to M.E. 3."
"I was under the impression the gods were most likely lost in slumber."
"We know they can awaken. Didn't Ifrit go on a rampage throughout Lucis the year you were born?"
"I hope you're not implying I did something to cause…"
"No. Simply a point. He woke up somehow."
Ignis thought for a moment, genuinely intrigued. "Right."
She went on, flipping through pages. "During M.E. 3, she just pops up. The King confides on the record to the High Senator that he had taken in an immigrant, that he owed her a favor. She was promoted as official retainer to the Princess, in part due to her 'cunning wit'…I'm quoting….And Accendo followed in his mother's footsteps. What do you think?"
"Hm." He stood and walked around the foot of the bed, toward his side of the mattress. "Sounds farfetched."
"Wasn't your Uncle's name Accendo?" She asked, flipping towards the back of the book quickly.
He leaned toward her again to tease her. He gave her a grave face. "Yes, but I doubt he was born in M.E. 3. He wasn't quite that ancient."
She smacked him with the notebook lying in the center of the bed. "Please try to take this seriously."
He chuckled as he moved the towel and walked to the bathroom to hang it up. "I am," he said as he did so. "I'm merely stating that Accendo could be a family name. I do recall a great grandfather by the name of Accendo."
"So. It's official. I married a demi-god. That's not intimidating in the slightest."
"Don't get carried away," he replied, coming back to the bed. "There's no solid proof I'm a descendant of the Infernian. It could all be wild rumor."
She stared at him with a blank look. "Ignis, you literally light yourself on fire when you're angry."
"I think that's an exaggeration." He pulled back the sheets and sat down.
"I've seen it!"
"Very well." He kissed her forehead and then dove under the covers, turning his back to her to sleep. "If you prefer, I'll be a god. Only for you. Goodnight, my love. Rest well."
She wouldn't have it. She tugged at his ear a bit. "Ignis Stupeo Scientia! Are you really going to sleep right now?"
He removed her hand casually. "Of course. It's been a long day. I'm tired, and so are you."
"Ignis! I don't believe you! How are you able to just ignore this?" She sounded sullen, pouting. "I worked really hard on it. I was excited."
He sighed and sat up. "It's just that there's no proof, Leya. It's rumor. The genealogy matches, the chronology matches, but the only evidence we have of Accendo's origin is hearsay. You know how rumors travel; You yourself were a victim of them once. Everyone seemed convinced of your true intentions when they couldn't have been further from the truth."
"Thanks for opening that old wound."
He appealed to her. "I didn't mean…"
She held up the book. "This is a picture of Accendo."
He fought the urge to toss his hands up in exasperation. She knew full well he couldn't see. "Handsome," He answered sarcastically.
"He looks the same as the depictions of Ifrit."
"Called in a sketch artist a few thousand years ago and had the Infernian pose for a picture, did they?"
She huffed, getting irritated. "No, not then. I'm talking about M.E. 734. The year you were born. The year the Infernian raged. Multiple eyewitnesses gave descriptions of his features. They look just like Accendo."
He paused, trying to think of another explanation. "Well perhaps the similarity is a coincidence. M.E. 3 is a long time to…"
"And he looks like your father. And he looks remarkably like you."
Ignis had nothing to say. He just seemed as if he were staring into outer space, a quizzical look on his features. Aleya had seen pictures of his father, and she knew full well Ignis looked almost as his twin. His own mother mistook him for her late husband. Finally, he nodded. "I see. Very much like me?"
"Almost identical. He had longer hair and a beard, but everything else is you. The picture is remarkably detailed. Same eyes, nose, jaw, even the same birthmark. Same structure, same height…"
"You're—You're serious, aren't you?" He knew far better than to ignore her intuition. After all, it was she who had sat on a campsite all those years ago and basically spelled out in detail her thoughts on the Chosen King being Noctis—something even Ignis had questioned, and certainly had never revealed to another soul.
"Of course I am!" She waited for a moment, watching his thoughtful expression. "Do I need to go get Wiz and ask his opinion? You'd believe me, then." She threw off the covers and went to swing her feet off of the bed.
Ignis pitched forward and grabbed her arm. "Oh, no you don't. Nice try. You need your rest, young lady."
"Why don't you believe me? You used to believe me."
He took her hand. "Of course I believe you, Leya, it's just—You must admit it's difficult to accept. The whole Scientia lineage sprung from an illicit affair with a deity?"
Leya removed her hand from his quickly and flipped through another book she had stacked between them—the record of official military records. She scanned over the year headings, finger trailing down the appropriate pages. "All Scientia males who served in the Crownsguard or Kingsglaive had a high affinity to magic, and often used fire. Sound like anyone we know? Hm?"
"I…"
"And you can somehow miraculously walk through tombs that only the chosen king is supposed to enter?"
"In fairness, we haven't been able to determine exactly why that occurs. It could be any number of things."
"Ignis. Your name is Ignis. It has the word for 'fire' in it."
He opened his mouth to reply in rebuttal, but couldn't find anything appropriate to say.
While his mouth was still agape, she leaned in quickly and kissed him with a giggle. "So it's settled." She stacked the books on the bedside table and flipped off the light. Before he knew what was happening, she was snuggling back into his arm. There was quiet for a few minutes as they settled against one another and got comfortable. And then breaking the pleasant, calm silence came Aleya's teasing voice. "My god, Ignis!"
"Stop that!" He warned her.
1st of August, M.E. 760
Ignis didn't find anything of known value in the ruins, although he did find a sizeable tome of some sort. It was ancient—nearly falling apart. He had no idea what it was. It could have been of import, or it could have been a fictional novel, for all he knew. He hoped to give it to Leya and get her thoughts.
He was lost in thought as he traveled; He barely even noticed the rain storm that descended upon him. He was musing upon Iris' request to train with him. Though he tried to talk her out of it, Iris was quite determined. Gladio would go mad if he knew Ignis would be taking a dagger to his little sister's throat. Best that he not tell him.
That, of course, remembered to those years back, when Aleya wanted to train with him. Unlike Iris' request, he could never could bring myself to do such a thing for Aleya. The thought of leaving a mark on her—even accidentally—was just too difficult to fathom. A smile came to his face at the irony. He should have known the state of his heart, then; When it made him physically ill to think of harming her, and made him astoundingly uncomfortable—in a most disturbingly pleasant way—to think of wrestling about with her. His intellect was keen on most things; He had been completely blind-sided by Aleya. She came out of nowhere and he hadn't expected to fall for her, in the least. And no matter how hard he tried to use the brakes, he just sped swiftly downhill into a romantic collision with her.
His ineptitude was astounding. He was surprised she married him. Though, he was eternally grateful she did.
Sweet Leya…He couldn't wait to get back to her. For days, he had planned to surprise her and lock the bedroom door behind them before Wiz even suspected he was back. But he could tell things were not going to go as expected. He was growing unusually winded as he walked, and every step was becoming a weary slog. His head thundered with every faint rustle of a breeze. And when he finally set his feet on ranch property, he simply wanted to lay down somewhere.
"Ignis!" Aleya saw him coming from a distance. She had been sitting outside, pilfering his notes on the tombs. She had been eating a piece of toast with Duscaen orange jelly—she found she was hungry constantly these days—but the moment she laid eyes upon him, she dropped both the notebook and the toast on the table and ran for him.
He could hear her feet coming at him speedily. He scolded her as he hastened to meet her. "Don't run! We just got you out of one incident and I don't want you to…mm!" He was surprised as she flung her arms around him and dragged him down to her level before she was at a full stop, crashing her mouth to his. She was certainly happy to see him….he wasn't sure she had ever been this passionate before. He found it a bit awkward, at first. She had always been half a foot or so shorter than him, and now at a full eight months of pregnancy, there was the problem of girth, as well. He fought to maintain his balance and not topple them both. If they had been sitting or lying down, perhaps it would have been enjoyable. Still, he indulged her. Whatever made her happy was perfectly sound with him.
She broke off, panting happily. "Gods, I missed you!"
"Whatever was all that for?" He asked, brushing his lower lip dry with his thumb.
"I'm just glad you're back," she whispered happily, hooking her fingers in his left front pocket and swaying him side to side slightly.
He wished he were more enthused, truly. He felt severely drained. "Shall we celebrate?" He asked her, putting on his best face. He threw an arm over her shoulder. "I found some ingredients afield that might substitute for a passable Lasagne-al-Forno."
She pulled away from him a bit. "Why are you wet?"
"Oh. Ran into a rainstorm along the way. Unexpected."
She put a hand to his forehead. "I thought so! You have a fever."
"No, I couldn't possibly!"
"You do. You're getting sick, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm not!" He answered. No, this wouldn't do at all. He had promised himself to spend a relaxing evening with his wife before training Iris began, indulging her in whatever her heart desired. He hadn't heard her voice in over a week. He wanted to go over all the names that had popped into his head for the baby. He was going to talk to Wiz about the final touches on the surprise bassinet. It was happening again—their plans were being spoiled. They had terrible luck. "I can't be sick now. I won't!"
"I know you can do most anything, but I'm not sure you can will a virus out of your system."
"I'm fine!" He argued, irritably. "It's nothing. Perhaps I'm warm from exertion."
"From exertion?"
"You yourself insist I'm part god."
She looked at him dubiously. "You sure you're okay?" She put a concerned hand to his cheek.
"Of course!" He took the hand resolutely. "Nothing is going to ruin this evening; I assure you!"
"I'm sorry. I feel I've ruined our evening." Ignis lay in bed, arm draped over his face. He couldn't see light, of course, and wasn't trying to protect his eyes. He just found it remarkably comforting when his fever was this high. He remembered lying this way in Altissia, bemoaning the loss of his vision.
Umbra licked at his elbow while Aleya put a cool, wet cloth on his head. She sat next to him in the chair at the bedside, taking his hand in her lap. "Don't be silly. You're always looking after me. It's my turn to look after you while you're sick." She leaned over to kiss him.
However, he moved away quickly, pushing her back. "Aleya, you can't be here. I'm most likely contagious."
"That's okay."
"No, it isn't! What if you get ill? We're already tempting fate with that greeting you gave me."
"You didn't like it?" She replied, in feigned innocence.
Sly little woman, she was. He sighed, and refused to answer.
"I want to take care of you; Like you take care of me."
"But if you get ill, we're limited on treatment options."
"I don't mind getting sick, Igs. Really, I don't." She went for him again.
"Well, I mind!" He argued, rolling out of bed and away from her. "I won't—I won't have you…" he panted as he reeled on his feet. Whether it was the high fever or Wiz's homemade cold remedy, he wasn't sure. But the last he felt so frail, he had been nearly torn apart by a red giant. He put a knee against the mattress to steady himself as he thought back to that event. Leya had nurse-maided him back then, too. He gave a side-ways grin as he thought of how that event led to a first kiss; Awkward at first, ending in a flourish of passion.
Aleya eyed him suspiciously. "What's so funny?"
He laughed nearly hysterically for a moment.
She stared at him in surprise. Ignis never laughed hysterically. "Do I need to get Doc Eiler?"
"I…I was just thinking of Aranea," he told her, with a fond, dopey smile on his face.
Her expression turned sour. She had always been just a bit jealous of Aranea. She crossed her arms, nonplussed. "Aranea. Really."
"What I wouldn't have given to see the look on her face when we…" He trailed off.
Her frown deepened, and her eyes flashed with suspicion and warning. "You'd better be delirious. Or drunk. Or both."
He felt the room spin again. He chuckled. "When she saw us."
"'Us', who? When?"
"You and I, of course. In Lestallum. When you mended my wounds. Remember?"
She thought back. "That was ages ago."
He tilted forward as if he had lost his balance. Aleya was startled for a moment, but he simply teetered backward to meet the mattress, and then rolled over, putting his arm back over his face. "She was always so irritable. Called me names; Teased me incessantly. I found it hard to put up with at the time. Now I find it endearing."
"Endearing, huh?" She picked up the wet cloth he had dropped when he got up, wadded it, and threw it at him.
He didn't even seem to notice when it landed with a wet splat against his ribs. "I think she was jealous."
She pressed her lips together. She had never liked the idea of Ignis and Aranea working so closely together. The only reason she had urged him to train with her is because she knew of no viable alternative. Ignis' recovery was to come first and foremost, no matter how she felt about the situation. But it always had raised her ire a bit to see Aranea prance in and out as she pleased, ordering Ignis around while she wore that skin-tight showy leather. Just once, she wished she could see some sort of blemish on that flawless milky skin of hers.
He reached out with the hand that did not cover his eyes, waiting for her to take it. She did so, reluctantly. "Who wouldn't be jealous of us? We're perfect together."
"I thought you meant she was jealous of me."
"Of course she's jealous of you. Most women are. You're married to me, after all."
"Uh-huh." She didn't sound happy.
"Besides, not everyone can be so flawless as to be Aleya Claren."
All irritation forgotten, she melted into a shy, warm smile. "That's sweet, Ignis."
He thought for a minute. "I remember I would wake in the dark when I was injured back then, terribly ill and in pain. My comfort was feeling you there, never leaving my side. I felt…so enormously happy. Just as I do, now." His hand slid up to her bicep as he pulled her closer. "My light; The only light I had. I wanted to tell you how much you meant to me. But…I'm ashamed to say that first attempt was rather clumsy."
She grinned. "Well, before us, you never wanted to date, and my brother never let me. So neither of us knew what we were doing."
He frowned. "I wish I could have redeemed myself. I was clumsy on our wedding night, too." He ground his teeth together in stunned shame, wondering to himself, 'Gods, what did Wiz put in that medicine? Why on Eos did I just say that?!' He was truly becoming alarmingly disinhibited.
She took his hand again. "Really? I thought you were very confident and kind. I felt so safe."
He paused as he considered her words. He had always wondered, and he had always been far too embarrassed to ask. He moved his arm, glancing at her shadow of light with his right eye. "Did you?"
"Yes." She continued to hold his hand, but reached with her other to hold his forearm close to herself, as well. "I would have probably been a mess if it wasn't for you. I was nervous and shy, but I knew there was nothing to be afraid of; Not with you there."
He lay in silence, a blissful smile spreading over his face. Sometimes Aleya's independence made him frustrated. He wanted to shake her at times, to tell her to 'just for bloody once not fight his attempts to take care of her'. He wanted to feel like her caregiver and protection. But she so often bypassed that role, and it made him feel like she didn't need him. Now, she had openly admitted that at such a vulnerable time, he made her feel safe and protected. It was a notion that filled his insides with warmth, that made him want to take her in his arms and shower her with affection. He sighed, and then growled in frustration. "Damn this cold," he said, irritably.
She chuckled. "You'd better get some sleep. I think you might really be delirious. Your fever is really high." She put a hand to his forehead.
He was wringing in sweat, but he began to shiver a bit. "Well, this disintegrates your demi-god theory. I apparently wilt in heat."
"I don't think divine fire and fever are exactly the same," she replied with a chuckle. "I'll go make some ginger tea. That'll cure you." She leaned over again, centering the weight in her belly with the palm of her hand.
"Leya, no." He moved his arm to push her away again, but she dodged it neatly and put her lips to his scarred eye. His arm dropped, and he let out a relaxed breath. He fell asleep before she even had a chance to stand upright again.
She grinned down at him, sweeping his bangs back from his forehead. "Rest up, my divine."