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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[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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He slides out of that grip gently once he can't stand it anymore and into some clothes again. By the time Ardyn comes out, there's a kettle of steaming water for coffee over the fire circle and Ignis himself - in only the pants - is messing with his new knives, flipping them in and out of the red-tinted Armiger with a practiced ease.]
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...mmgh, morning.
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[Sorry Ardyn, he's still that most dreaded of creatures, a morning person. Once he's coffee'd, anyway.]
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[ardyn it's like 9]
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[He assumes you have the rest of your Coffee Fixings in the Armiger.]
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[Sure is, as he pulls out a coffee mug, milk, and obscene amounts of sugar.]
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I don't suppose you bought my shirt out with you?
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[Because he can sidle right up next to you and slip an arm around your waist, Ignis.]
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[Oh that definitely helps, though. Chances are, Ardyn will find the faintest sheen of sweat under his fingers.]
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[that will not stop a kiss to the neck and may in fact only encourage one]
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[Good morning to you too, Ardyn.]
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[the benefit of having two hands is the ability to drink coffee while also holding your maybe-kinda-boyfriend]
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Of course not. Plenty of warmth right here.
[Neck kiss? Neck kiss.]
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