#annie writes: ffxv

[archadianskies]

Fleurentia prompt: Things only you know about me

→ ao3

They are two years into the unending night and he is eight months into his stay in Tenebrae. With no Lucian King to advise, he has turned to the other living monarchy whilst Noctis slumbers in the Crystal.

The Oracle, tireless in her Holy Duty, spends her time guiding evacuation efforts and keeping the daemons at bay. With no Lucian King to shield, Gladiolus has taken it upon himself to shield Tenebrae’s Queen instead, protecting her on their journey. As for Prompto, the youngest of their crew, he spends his time at Lestallum on supply runs and hunts.  

Which leaves Tenebrae under the stewardship of Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret, with Ignis guiding him in a role he never prepared for. Ravus was always destined to be a military man; though firstborn of Oracle Sylva the matrilineal Monarchy meant Ravus would never have been crowned King, for Tenebrae had never recognised men for the throne. The blood of the Oracle burned brightest in its princesses, after all.

So it’s almost comical that Ravus is given the task of leading his people, a task Ignis does not mind assisting with. Their time is consumed with balancing the ever growing influx of refugees fleeing from Niflheim and the dwindling resources of the country. They’ve butted heads often, but Ignis is used to squabbling with royals.

He’s given lodging on the floor below the Royal Suites, and there’s a large office adjoining his room where he and Ravus spend whatever time isn’t lost to the throne room. There’s always work to do, always another document to review and sign and the serving staff flitter into the office every now and then to keep them fed and watered.

The country’s lush, green, mountainous area means it’s the ideal location to grow tea and indeed the Manor’s kitchen boasts a generous tea cabinet. The Lucians prefer their coffees and the Tenebraeans prefer their teas, something which Ignis finds himself growing accustomed to. That and ferrying instant Ebony ground coffee is quite low on the priority list.

One unremarkable day (or night?) they had been served a lovely green tea lightly sweetened with dried Ulwaat berries. It became Ignis’ favourite, though they haven’t served it since.

It’s with that in mind that makes Ignis venture down into the belly of the Manor to the kitchens in search of the elusive tea. The hour is quiet and he knows the kitchens will be empty, the staff absent and unaware of his foraging.

The kitchens are not empty as predicted, and Ignis blinks in surprise.

“...Scientia.” Ravus nods tersely after a moment’s silence.

“Sire.” Ignis greets politely with a bow.

Another stretch of silence yawns between them and Ignis cannot help but stare at the High Commander wearing an apron over a soft blouse and tunic, standing at the stovetop stirring something diligently.

“...I was just about to make myself tea.” Ignis explains to break the silence. Ravus nods.

“...yes, please go ahead.” He passes him by on the way to the tea cabinet, and Ignis identifies the contents of the pot as milk being brought to a simmer. On the benchtop is a bottle of soy milk, a spice shaker of cinnamon, a jar of honey and a canister of powdered cacao. Ah. He retrieves the green tea and dried Ulwaat berries from the tea cabinet before returning to the stove burners.

“You are not fond of tea?” He tries to make conversation as he sets about bringing the kettle to a boil and measuring out the tea leaves.

“I will drink it if it has been made for me.” Ravus pointedly concentrates on spooning honey into the simmering milk before tapping cinnamon into the mixture. “Though I prefer drinking chocolates to teas or coffees.”

Ignis can tell he’s uncomfortable at the admission, and finds himself a little tickled to be the one receiving it. They make their beverages in companionable silence, Ignis watching how carefully and how practiced Ravus manoeuvres himself.

There’s no more daylight, but Fenestala Manor is lit by the protective Oracle’s Runes inlaid in its marble; the whole place seems to glow in sylleblossom hues. There’s something beautiful, something holy about it, Ignis notes as they return to the office carefully carrying their hot drinks.

For a brief moment, right here right this instant, the world is just the size of the room and they sit within it with their secrets bared. To the general populace, Ravus Nox Fleuret is an imposing, cold military man solely focused on achieving his goal no matter the lives cut down in his wake.

To Ignis, Ravus is a studious man uncomfortable under public scrutiny, ever faithful to his family, and always willing to grit his teeth and work through bad situations for the greater good; he’s not unlike a certain other royal Ignis knows.

Tomorrow the High Commander will done his regalia and hold Court once again to argue with the new Parliament set up to cope with the changing political and environmental landscape. He will listen, he will speak, he will ask, he will refute, and he’ll drink tea prepared for him by the staff. But for now he’s just Ravus, a man with a sweet-tooth sneaking to the kitchens to make hot chocolate when no one is around to bear witness. Without the imposing whites and blacks of his regalia, or the intimidating Magitek armour overlay, the prince seems like an ordinary man enjoying a quiet moment in his study. Ignis finds himself rather endeared to this secret, softer side of Ravus.

A couple of days later Ignis wanders down to the kitchens during its quieter hours. When he finds Ravus there it’s no longer a surprise, but finding two cups of hot chocolate on the tray instead of one certainly is.

“...I thought you might like to try some.” Ravus clears his throat and gestures at the cup. “My sister and I grew up drinking this and I find it helps lift one’s mood.” There’s an awkward pacing to his tone, as if he’s full of hesitation. The adolescence he was meant to have had been cut short, and instead of being schooled to grow into a prince, Ravus had been forced to grow into a soldier at breakneck speed. What use would there have been for Niflheim to give the broken prince social skills? But he’s trying, and Ignis is hit with the stark realisation Ravus didn’t really have friends to confide in.

“Thank you, Ravus.” He drops the formalities as he picks up the other cup with a smile. “Shall we head back?”

The smile in return is brief, a fleeting expression swallowed up by nervousness a moment later but Ignis sees it and thinks it rivals the sweetness of these drinks.

[thesilencebeforeastorm]

Ocean - Armin x Reader

(A/n): My first fic for this boy! Fluffy, sfw and Modern!AU :)

~

It was a hot summer day in July and Armin had planned a beach trip with (Y/n) and their friends. Although he had been to the beach many times before, (Y/n) had never gone and since they had just started dating a month ago, he wanted her to get the full experience. Gathering the blankets, sunscreen, beach ball and snacks, he placed them all in Eren's car before getting inside of it with Eren, Mikasa and (Y/n). They would be meeting with the others at the beach.

The car ride had been fun with Eren and Armin singing along to songs on the radio. (Y/n) joined in from time to time, singing along to whatever song she heard before and knew the lyrics to. She felt the warm breeze brush against her skin through the window of the car as they finally arrived to their destination. Waiting for Armin to open the car door, he motioned her to step out and placed her hand on Mikasa's shoulder to guide her to the beach itself, while he got the supplies with Eren. While walking over, Mikasa opted for a little chat.

"So, (Y/n). You've seriously never been to the beach before?"

"No", she replied. "My mom just never took me". She sounded a little sad.

Taking note of how she responded, Mikasa noticed they were about to touch sand. She took it as an opportunity to introduce the new feeling to her.

"You've heard of sand right?"

"Yeah I have. Armin told me all about it back at home. They're filled with little rocks or seashells sometimes and it's hot!", she replied, some excitement filling her voice.

"Well, we're about to step into it. Take your sandals off".

Listening to her instructions, she removed her sandals but hesitated a bit before sticking her feet in the sand.

(Y/n) gasped as the feeling was just like how Armin described it. It was soft, yet firm and she felt the little grains of sand surround her toes along with tiny rocks. Problem was that it was hot.

"Ow ow hot hottt", (Y/n) called out before her and Mikasa joined together in laughter. She searched for her sandals by reaching down around her until she found them and slid them back on her feet.

"So, how did that feel, other than hot?", Mikasa asked.

"It's just how Armin described it. Soft yet firm and I felt little rocks!". 

"That's good then", Mikasa replied. We should meet up with the others, I'm sure they finished setting up by now while we were having our little fun."

Agreeing, Mikasa guided her to where the others were as they waved her over. That's when (Y/n) heard other voices. Wondering who they were, she decided to wait until she was spoken to.

"Hey, (Y/n)! Long time no see!". That was Jean. She decided to poke fun back at his comment.

"I guess I could say the same thing", she replied.

"Ow!" Jean called out as (Y/n) heard someone hit him. She listened for the voice. 

"Don't make idiotic jokes like that Jean!". That was Sasha. 

(Y/n) laughed. "Hey hey no worries. I'm used to it now". She heard Sasha sigh. "Doesn't mean it's okay!". She heard Connie and Marco's laugh somewhere in the background. 

"(Y/n)!" That was Armin.

Listening for where his voice came from, she figured out it was from her left and turned to face that way. "What is it?" She asked.

"We finished setting up and the others are here. Let's sit down". 

By the others being here, he meant Ymir, Historia, Annie, Reiner and Bertholdt. Letting go of Mikasa, Armin grabbed her hand and placed it on his shoulder as he guided her to their spot. Taking a seat, she heard the others leave as they were going to get into the ocean. Armin decided to stay behind with her. He held her hand as they sat on the shared blanket.

The beach felt amazing so far. She could feel the intense heat yet warm breeze brush up against her skin and heard the seagulls that flew nearby. She also heard the sound of the sea as what she assumed were waves crashing onto the shore, like Armin told her before. There was one question that was on her mind so she took the chance to ask.

"Hey Armin?" she asked. 

"Yes?"

"What color is the ocean?" 

Armin was shocked by the question. (Y/n) had been blind her entire life, that much he knew for sure. She would ask him a lot about what things were like and how they felt but had yet to ask about color. 

How do I explain a color she's never seen before?, he thought to himself. 

"Armin?", (Y/n) asked. "You okay?"

It snapped him out of his thoughts. "Yeah I'm okay! Sorry, I was just thinking."

"It's okay if you can't explain it to me. I'll- ". She was cut off.

"No no, it's no trouble! I have an idea. Come with me".

He helped her get up as they walked over to the ocean. 

"You'll need to take your sandals off for this", he instructed. 

"But the sand is hot", (Y/n) said.

"Don't worry about it. Where we'll be standing it'll be cool."

Listening to him, she took her sandals off once more and took a few steps forward before feeling water on her feet.

She gasped at the sudden coldness and squeezed his hand. "Ahhh, cold coldddd". Armin laughed. "It'll feel like that at first but give it a few minutes, you'll adjust!"

She waited a minute or two before hearing Armin speak.

"The color of the ocean is blue. Blue is cool like the water you feel on your feet and it's calming. The sky is also the same color. Blue is the sound of the waves that crash onto the shore. The smell of the ocean also describes what the color blue is like".

(Y/n) took a deep breath as she inhaled the scent of the sea. She heard the splashing of the water and their friends and children laughing and playing in the water. She felt relaxed, just like Armin told her how the color blue is.

"Hey Armin", she said.

"Hm?", he replied.

"Didn't you tell me before that your eyes were blue?", thinking back to the time when they first met and she wanted to know what Armin looked like. 

"Yes they are", he replied. She could hear his smile in his voice.

"Wow…" she said. "So your eyes are the color of the sea…."

Armin blushed at the comment. He had never heard anyone make that comparison before and it only made him love (Y/n) even more. He didn't care if she was blind. It only made him more determined to show her the world.

She gave his hand a tight squeeze. "I think the color blue is beautiful".

~

~

Tagging: @myoceanlivesinyoureyes because you write for Armin and I think you'll like this :)

@paopufruittt @humanitys-hottestsoldier @mysteriousmagicx @final-fantasy-xv-nut

I also have another fic similar to this for the FFXV fandom if you would like to read it!

"Favorite Color" - Part 2 - Ignis x Reader

Masterlist

[aperturetrigger]

ROLEPLAYING HISTORY

The rules are simple! Post ten characters you’d like to role play as, have role played as, and might bring back. Then tag ten people to do the same (if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people). Aside from that, please repost instead of reblogging!

CURRENTLY PLAYING

Prompto Argentum | FFXV Lenneth Valkyrie | Valkyrie Profile Varric Tethras | Dragon Age Mad Moxxi | Borderlands Miranda Lawson | Mass Effect 

WANT TO PLAY

Tasuki | Fushigi Yuugi  General Beatrix | FFIX Delvin Mallory | TES: Skyrim Daud | Dishonored Poseidon | Greek Myth  Sabrina | Pokemon  Cid Highwind | FFVII

HAVE PLAYED

Haruka Tenou | Sailor Moon Kidd | Chrono Cross Nabooru | Legend of Zelda Annie Leonhardt | Shingeki no Kyojin Touka Kirishima | Tokyo Ghoul  Utena Tenjou | Revolutionary Girl Utena  Faye Valentine | Cowboy Bebop Maya, the Siren | Borderlands Eyual Lavellan | Dragon Age Blood Mary | the Wolf Among Us Raō | Okami 

WILL/WOULD PLAY AGAIN:

I would absolutely want to write Haruka & Kidd again. I have a tendency to go back to my old muses just out of interest and nostalgia ? Especially seeing the revive of a certain fandom makes me ache for those that were in it awhile back. Also considering that Miranda is my first ever muse next to Lenneth and Annie, I always feel the strongest pull back to them. 

TAGGED BY: @croawe​  & @mumsthewcrd

TAGGING: anyone who wants to do this, go right ahead !

[archadianskies]

Title: adherence Part: 3/? of ‘software instability’ the tale of Ignisbot Pairing: maybe budding gladnis?  Rating: General Themes: Friendship, Artificial Intelligence, Grief/Mourning Words: 2,784 Summary: Gladio never expected the book he received the morning they set off for Altissia would be the last gift he'd ever receive from his dad. And now it lies discarded and torn apart on the floor of the Regalia.

On the morning he was to depart for Altissia, Clarus had placed a beautiful linen hardcover in his hands. A new release from his favourite author; an historical epic of war and peace, blood and tears, romance and heartbreak.

To Gladiolus, May this adventure keep you company on yours. Love always, Dad

His father had embraced him tightly, kissing his cheek and mussing his hair affectionately. Gladio had dismissed the glassiness in his eyes with light teasing, what old man are you missing the days you spent on the road? Feeling your age now are you?

Clarus had laughed it off and shoved him towards the door. Gladio gave him a lazy finger salute and headed off, shoving the book into his pack. He'd headed out in the Regalia an hour later with the ragtag trio, to get Noct hitched in Altissia.

He never thought Insomnia would fall in their absence.

→ ao3

[archadianskies]

19 (sea change) and 6 (illusion)?

↳ [Ao3]

Cape Caem was nothing like Insomnia, and the wooden house was a far cry from the grandeur of the Citadel. It’s an unexpected, unplanned, literal sea change and they’re at the mercy of Crownsguards Monica and Dustin, and forever indebted to Jared Hester. 

They’re loosely confined to the area until Cid and Cindy finish fixing the Royal Vessel, and there’s little to do but garden and fish to wile the time away. The once Prince Regis had used the house and lighthouse as a base of sorts, and Ignis had caught Cid holding the framed photo in the dock more than once.

It was hard to picture King Regis at their age, on a roadtrip much like theirs, with companions much like his. Like father, like son; Regis and Noctis, Clarus and Gladiolus. The Princes and their Shields.

The Shield at present was sprawled on the couch, riveted to whatever historical romance novel he was currently devouring, claret eyes behind a pair of black framed glasses he’s taken to wearing as of late. His mane of hair is pulled into a messy bun atop his head, and he’s dressed in a black shirt with a thick cardigan and sweatpants. The sea breeze at night made the cape chillier, and it amused Ignis that even the behemoth that was Gladiolus Amicitia required a cardigan too. 

The younger Amicitia was fast asleep atop her brother, dressed in a hoodie far too large to be hers and a soft pair of flannel sleep pants. Tucked under one arm was a worn rabbit plush she’s had since she was a child, Ignis recognising it from the many times he interacted with Iris in the past.

It seemed an almost private moment, and Gladio looked softer than Ignis had ever seen him, and softer still with the way he had an arm draped over his sister protectively, comfortingly as she used him as a bed.

“Hey Big Guy.” Prompto greeted, smelling of the shoreline and eyes crinkled in amusement as he plopped himself down on the nearby armchair. “Iris all wiped out?”

“She’s not feeling well.” Gladio dropped his voice down so as not to wake her, and the lower octaves echoed in his chest and raced a shiver down Ignis’ spine.

“Oh?” Prompto’s smile vanished. “Can I get her anything? A potion? A remedy?”

“If you’ve got something that can wrangle a misbehaving uterus, by all means.” Gladio chuckled, delighting in the way Prompto fumbled.

“O-oh, uh-” The blond stammered, a faint flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “W-well-”

“Don’t worry Blondie, she took some painkillers and is sleeping it off. I run a little warmer than most and she’s been doing this since she was a baby.” Gladio waved the book nonchalantly. “I’ll ply her with chocolate when she wakes up and she’ll be fine.”

Iris whined at the disturbance, squirming in his grasp. Gladio hushed her soothingly, rubbing her back and murmuring comforting nothings until she settled again. It was at odds with how he behaved usually- large and loud and brash.

Ignis found himself smiling, heart scrunching in fondness. Gladio caught his gaze and offered a lazy smile of his own.

Later when most of the household was in bed fast asleep, Gladio scrubbed the kitchen bench down as Ignis put away the last of the dry dishes.

The lack of an audience emboldened him, and Ignis reached out to run his palm along Gladio’s thick arm. His skin met warm wool, the cable knit cardigan bolstering the Shield’s capacity to run hot. Gladio’s brows drew together briefly in confusion.

“Where did you get this?” Ignis asked, hyper aware of the faint rosiness to Gladio’s cheeks.

“Err, in that mall near Iris’ school.” Gladio scratched the back of his head, as if searching for the memory. “We went shopping after one of her half days since they had an end of season sale on.” A casual shrug. Ignis hasn’t moved his hand.

“Mmm.” A hum of approval. “I like it, it feels comfortable.”

Gladio seems unsure of how to progress through the situation, eyes searching Ignis’ face for an answer. “Uh, yeah, I like it too.”

“May I borrow it sometime?” Ignis moved his hand higher and higher, grazing over the boulder of his shoulder before fussing along the soft shawl collar. He heard and saw Gladio swallow thickly, the bob of his adam’s apple disturbing his throat.

“Sure if you want.” He mumbled, pulling away as if he couldn’t bear the situation any longer, tugging the cardigan off and holding it out to him.

“I didn’t mean now, Gladio.” Ignis laughed, accepting the article and tugging it on anyway. It’s predictably too big for him, and smelled like Gladio, like clean soap and coffee and Cape Caem sea salt. He wrapped his arms around himself in the semblance of an embrace, and Gladio playfully pulled the shawl collar up so it covered his nape and brushed his cheeks.

“Nice and cosy, Specs?”

“It’s almost engulfing me.” The thrill of his proximity made him chuckle, and in the dim light of the kitchen, Gladio’s eyes were the colour of wine and Ignis wanted to drown in them. “I’d imagine it’s what being hugged by you is like, what Iris is very used to.”

A moment of silence, not uncomfortable, but like a pause before the start of something new.

Gladio stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him close and resting his cheek atop his hair. Ignis felt his knees go weak, and he let out a shuddering sigh as if his body had been wound too tightly and this was blessed release.

“May I keep this for a little while?” He murmured into Gladio’s chest as he felt Gladio press a kiss into his hair, testing new grounds, new bounds, uncharted territory.

“Well, you’ve deprived me of one source of warmth so you’re just going to have to let me hold you and be another.” He explained matter of factly. Ignis tilted back in his grasp so Gladio could see him raise a brow.

“Is that so?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He was under no illusions that this easy domesticity, these easy quiet nights could remain as such forever. Soon they would board the Royal Vessel and set sail for Altissia, with the Oracle blazing the path to commune with the Astrals in order for Noctis to claim his birthright. The path ahead, much like the path behind, would be wrought with fire and blood, tears and heartache. 

They would seldom have moments like these, when the air was a gentle breeze that carried the sound of lapping waves and there were no foes to slay, no battles to wage until Noctis was crowned King. 

So perhaps because of that, in spite of that, Ignis decided he wouldn’t waste such a precious moment stolen from their world weary existence. Gladio’s stubble was rough against his palms as he cupped his face and guided the taller man to lean down. When he was met with no resistance, Ignis closed his eyes and kissed him. 

The Astrals pulled them all along, swept them up into a chess game that spanned the ages but they could not have this. This was theirs alone. 

[archadianskies]

Chapters: 5/6 Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gladiolus Amicita & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia Characters: Gladiolus Amicitia, Clarus Amicitia, Iris Amicitia, Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII, Prompto Argentum

Additional Tags: Not A/B/O dynamics, but the amicitias are wolves, Childhood Friends, World of Ruin, 5+1 Things, Hints of Gladnis, hints of polyship roadtrip, can read as platonic, Team as Family

Summary:  The Amicitias are the sworn Shields to the Lucis Caelum dynasty, chosen by the Astrals to bear the rage of a beast in order to protect their liege - or five times Gladio was introduced to someone, and one time he reintroduced himself.

[archadianskies]

Title: diminuendo Part: 4/? of ‘software instability’ the tale of Ignisbot Pairing: Noctis is a gay mess with a crush on all of them Rating: General Themes: Friendship, Artificial Intelligence, Dance lessons Words: 2,216 Summary: They have to spend the night at Galdin Quay until they can leave for Altissia the next day, so Ignis decides it best they refresh their dancing skills in preparation for the Royal Wedding. How was he to know Insomnia would fall? Now two months later when they finally reach Altissia, they have an evening to themselves before the Rite of the Hydraean is performed. There is to be no Royal Wedding, but Ignis figures they can still put their dancing skills to use.

"Perhaps we should use this time to practice dancing." Ignis suggests. The other two look up from their activities curiously as Ignis continues. "Tomorrow we leave for Altissia and when we arrive our schedules will be quite packed in preparation for the wedding. There will be a wedding rehearsal but I highly doubt only one session adequate to perfect a waltz."

"But I already know how to waltz." Noctis protests, as Prompto eagerly nods.

"Yeah we learned how to waltz for our school formal. Y'know, the-" Prompto mimes the leading position and sways slightly.

 "An Altissian Waltz differs from a Lucian Waltz." Ignis corrects. "You will need to perform both at the wedding."

"I can help demonstrate." Gladiolus volunteers, wedging a bookmark to hold his place before closing the hardcover.

"You know how to waltz?" Noctis cocks a brow in surprise.

"Iris' 15th birthday is in two months." The Shield scoots off the bed and makes his way to stand near Ignis. "Dad's throwin' a proper formal party for her so we're all having lessons." 

"Okay, this I gotta see." Prompto declares.

→ ao3

[archadianskies]

Title: we start with stars in our eyes Chapter: 6/6 ‘Homecoming’ Pairing: Undefined hints of gladnis, promptis, promptio (beginnings of a polyship trio mess) Rating: General Words: 5,982 Summary: The Amicitias are the sworn Shields to the Lucis Caelum dynasty, chosen by the Astrals to bear the rage of a beast in order to protect their liege - or five times Gladio was introduced to someone, and one time he reintroduced himself.

"Hey Iggy?" Prompto calls his attention. "Have you ever thought about riding Gladio?"

There's a beat of silence before Ignis spits coffee out in surprise, hitting his chest with a clenched hand to aid in coughing out the liquid.

"Well have you? I mean, you guys have known each other since you were kids right? It wouldn't be that weird." Prompto shrugs as Gladio sputters indignantly.

"Prompto you can't just- I mean, we're just-"

"Listen, you're like, big enough. Noct could ride you, if not Iggy." Prompto turns to his best friend. "Right? I mean, you can't tell me your dad and Gladio's dad didn't think about at least trying it?"

"Astrals, Prompto you can't just say things like that!" Noctis' voice is shrill, his cheeks red hot. "That's so inappropriate! I don't want to think about my old man like that!"

"I mean I'd want to try it if you'd let me."

→ ao3

[archadianskies]

30. Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

→ ao3

Tenebrae gleams blue in the long endless night, blue like the sylleblossoms and just as defiant. Fenestala Manor, reclaimed and rebuilt, jutts out like a glacier amidst the black starless sky. The marble is veined with the Oracle’s magic, Lunafreya’s magic, strengthened like the havens dotted around Eos. The long lineage of Oracles have inlaid their magic in the very foundations of the city, and it affords them protection from the ruined world beyond the Zoldara Henge.

The blood of the Oracle now runs only through one other: the eldest son of Sylva Nox Fleuret, crowned King of Tenebrae, first of his name, first and last of the title. Tenebrae has known no Kings before him, and will bow to none after. Turbulent is the time they live in, but turbulent is all Ravus knows life to be.

All that was joyous in him died with his mother and all that washopeful in him died with his sister. He was never meant to be King but someone must lead their people, and the Oracle’s blood sings true in his veins. He does not wear the glacian crown, it sits on the throne and he prefers to stand beside it. He does not rule in absolute power, he defers to the Parliament now set up to represent the people. He has always been a military man, not a monarch.

Ignis knows this, and gives counsel as well as he can. He is the Royal Advisor with no Lucian Royal to advise, not when Noctis slumbers within the cradle of the Crystal absorbing its strength until his return. And so Ignis stays in Tenebrae, helping Ravus establish a parliamentary system, helping him make the transition from High Commander to King. He does not know how long Noctis will lie dormant, but he does know people cannot remain scattered and unguided for long.

And so Ignis stays, and the long long hours spent working earns him a room in the Manor so it is easier for him to be fetched when needed. Ravus tells him he has room to spare. Those who once occupied these rooms are long dead.

Contact with the others is sparse, and Ignis feels their absence like three separate holes in his heart. He misses them. He misses Gladiolus’ grounding presence, Prompto’s cheer, and Noctis’ confidence in him. He wonders if they miss him too. 

It’s been three years since they parted ways after Noctis climbed into the Crystal. Some nights he swears his eyes ache with the ice hot flame of the Lucii. Other nights he finds himself in the kitchens, hands moving on their own if only to soothe himself with the familiarity of routine. 

He bakes chiffon cake because the smell makes him think of his uncle’s smile and the innocent days at the Citadel under his tutelage. 

“It is two in the morning, Scientia.”

“I am aware, your Majesty.” Ignis responds to the voice behind him, spooning freshly whipped cream onto the plate. “You seem to be awake at this hour too.”

Ravus gives an exasperated sigh. “It is hard to sleep when the days and nights look the same.” 

“Perhaps tea and cake shall soothe both our nerves.” He portions off another slice of cake and sets it on a plate with a dollop of cream. “I confess I had not thought this far ahead. At times like these I find myself falling back to old habits and end up making far too much.”

“You only know how to cook for four.” Ravus takes the offered plate. A statement, not sharp with hurtful intent but it wounds him all the same.

“Yes.”

The King’s brows draw together in irritation, directed at himself- not Ignis. “I did not- what I mean to say is-”

“It’s alright.” Ignis interjects. “You still stop to the room on your right every morning on your way to breakfast.” Lunafreya’s bedroom. “We are weary souls, Ravus. Sometimes habits are the only comforts we possess.”

A look of grief washes over his face, and it takes him a moment to steel his jaw and banish it. He draws his posture up into that of a King and not a grieving brother, though it seems comically too much when all he does next is take a fork to the cake.

It’s been two years and seven months since he moved to Tenebrae, and Ignis still isn’t sure where he stands with Ravus. 

There have been nights in the royal chambers where they’ve argued and shouted and cursed. There have been nights where grief and exhaustion were cast aside in favour of rage. And yet there have been moments like these, where the world narrows down to just the two of them haphazardly thrown together by fate. It seems in moments like these, sharing tea and cake in the kitchens while the world slumbers, there lies something almost fond between them. Something warm and new. Something worth holding on to, worth nurturing until it blossoms.

There is a dab of cream on Ravus’ upper lip, and Ignis reaches to smudge it away with his thumb. 

The world shrinks smaller still, until its entirety encircles the thud of hearts and the flush of cheeks.

Ravus murmurs something, three words, three life-altering words, but it’s trapped in the scarf looped around his neck to chase away the midnight chill.

“Pardon?”

“I said,” he snaps, cheeks rosier, “I’m above you. I am a King, do not touch me so freely.” He sets the empty plate down on the counter and strides to the door. “Get some sleep, we convene with the House of Represenatives later this morning.”

“Yes,” Ignis smiles and Ravus’ breath hitches at the sight, “your Majesty.”