Get in time traveller
[Altissia. The ring, burning into his finger, burning into his skull, and he knows the price without asking, knows before it's paid. The thing you value most, isn't that always how this works in fairytales?
Ravus. Noctis. Ardyn, and that little revelation barely enters his mind at the time, the familiar glowing signature of a warp in an unfamiliar color. The prophecy, the visions that hang in his mind, a last wish from a woman who spent her life to ensure it, Lunafreya's final message to ensure that Noctis would survive.
The last clear words he can remember clearly, You've a calling to fulfill, and then Prompto and Gladio's voices, concerned, in a blur...
And then nothing. Just the feeling of a ring's power, setting him alight from fingertips to crown -
It's still in him, that power. The ring of the Lucii binds to its wearers for life, knotting strands of light into their souls, be they kings or anyone else.
(He had expected to die. Living is harder.)
And in the depths of his unconsciousness, in the place where he knows the things that he hasn't had time to consider, Noctis and Ardyn and prophecy and all of that terrible weight -
From there, from the connection of the fire in his soul that will never go out, that can only be smothered and locked away in the dark, a voice says, what would you give to change fate?
And, of course, he answers, Anything.
----
In another world, Ignis Scientia wakes in Altissia, his face scarred, his vision burned away, and continues on.
In this one, Prompto Argentum enters the room just in time to see a flare of purple flame lick along his friend's body and leave nothing behind, not even a char mark on the wrinkled sheets.
And Ignis?
Ignis wakes, with a groan and a hand pressed to his face, in the back of a cart that trundles to a stop to pick up another passenger, a young healer with cheeks not yet sunken by pain and eyes not yet yellowed by plague. He wakes bereft, on some fundamental level, of the touch of magic that bound him to Noctis, the hum of energy that bound retainer to prince...
He wakes with the imprint of a ring on his finger, the memory of agreeing, and not the damnedest idea where he is.]
Ravus. Noctis. Ardyn, and that little revelation barely enters his mind at the time, the familiar glowing signature of a warp in an unfamiliar color. The prophecy, the visions that hang in his mind, a last wish from a woman who spent her life to ensure it, Lunafreya's final message to ensure that Noctis would survive.
The last clear words he can remember clearly, You've a calling to fulfill, and then Prompto and Gladio's voices, concerned, in a blur...
And then nothing. Just the feeling of a ring's power, setting him alight from fingertips to crown -
It's still in him, that power. The ring of the Lucii binds to its wearers for life, knotting strands of light into their souls, be they kings or anyone else.
(He had expected to die. Living is harder.)
And in the depths of his unconsciousness, in the place where he knows the things that he hasn't had time to consider, Noctis and Ardyn and prophecy and all of that terrible weight -
From there, from the connection of the fire in his soul that will never go out, that can only be smothered and locked away in the dark, a voice says, what would you give to change fate?
And, of course, he answers, Anything.
----
In another world, Ignis Scientia wakes in Altissia, his face scarred, his vision burned away, and continues on.
In this one, Prompto Argentum enters the room just in time to see a flare of purple flame lick along his friend's body and leave nothing behind, not even a char mark on the wrinkled sheets.
And Ignis?
Ignis wakes, with a groan and a hand pressed to his face, in the back of a cart that trundles to a stop to pick up another passenger, a young healer with cheeks not yet sunken by pain and eyes not yet yellowed by plague. He wakes bereft, on some fundamental level, of the touch of magic that bound him to Noctis, the hum of energy that bound retainer to prince...
He wakes with the imprint of a ring on his finger, the memory of agreeing, and not the damnedest idea where he is.]
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It seems like my shirt is starting to get in your way.
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[Gonna slide his hands back around to your front, Ardyn, laying them palms against your chest.]
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[He finished unbuttoning Ignis' shirt, sliding his hands along the adviser's shoulders to helpfully relieve him of it entirely with a quietly appreciative sound.]
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In turn, Ignis starts undoing buttons, pausing only to slide his hands out of his sleeves.]
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...my, but you are achingly beautiful.
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Each mark a proof that this Ardyn is someone completely different from who Ignis expected him to be.]
You're not so bad yourself.
[Almost absently, he traces one of the longer scars with a fingertip.]
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Now--where were we?
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[He leans a bit forward to put an arm around Ardyn's back again, running a finger down the full length of his spine this time.
This is good. This is real good.]
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[...Which he did, naturally, in a quite thorough and deliberate fashion. It turned out Izunia had perhaps underestimated Ardyn's range of expertise, though in this case that was likely to be far from a terrible thing. He was gentle and cautious throughout, the kind of person that lavished his partner with endearments and praise while keeping their comfort and pleasure at the forefront of his priorities. As much as the happiness of others was his main joy in life, there were also few things he liked more than to see someone driven to forget every word of language but his name underneath him.]
[After the fact, Ignis would have earned one very satisfied stringbean savior curled up against his chest, thoroughly exhausted and very content.]
...probably going to want to get you a scarf on the way home. Might've left a few marks.
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[And oh, Ignis had been perfectly happy to be led, for once, even as some corner of his mind kept taking careful notes For the next time that would certainly happen. At least, as long as he could manage that much focus.
He could definitely respect the appeal of letting go, as well. For now, he curls up closer to Ardyn, amused smirk planted somewhere near where he left a mark of his own.]
I'm going to have to learn another language to fully express my appreciation without repeating myself.
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[He turns his head to press a kiss to the inside of Ardyn's wrist, at the pulse point, before settling down into the petting.]
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[Especially not if it meant he got to pet such nice soft hair after the fact. Definitely a plus.]
So long as you're amicable to the idea, I see no reason we can't make some form of arrangement.
[gods know he and gil aren't exclusive, goodness.]
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Then again, even if he isn't experienced in romance precisely, it's not exactly his first emotionally intimate relationship. And their little group of four wasn't exactly exclusive in that regard, so in a way, this is a natural extension.]
Incredibly amicable. As long as it won't cause problems for you.
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[So, no backing out. Not unless things reach a point that he actually does regret, and... there is very little chance of that, as things stand now.
He did give a great deal for this, true. But not for nothing. And he doesn't want to go back to that lonely, secret-keeping state -
He can't imagine that Ardyn likely does, either.]
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[He pulled Ignis a little closer, holding him like the most priceless thing in the world.]
That...sounds wonderful, in fact.
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[He snuggles up closer, pulling an arm around Ardyn and pulling the blankets up higher around them. I assume they got blankets here at some point.]
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...m'glad to hear it. [Pressing a light kiss to Ignis' forehead, Ardyn closed his eyes; even had his legs been all that functional now, he was quite comfortably settled exactly where he was.]
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They are both quite sweetly snuggled up, in fact, which makes it perfectly easy to slip away to sleep until morning.
poor chocobos have to just snuggle each otherAnd come that morning, Ignis wakes first, as usual. His muscles are sore in new and interesting ways, but more importantly, he finds that Ardyn is still snuggled against his chest, and the combination makes moving the last thing on his mind.]
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