lazybox | Get in time traveller

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.]

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What-

[‘Startled’ was an understatement, Ardyn dragged quite physically out of his thoughts and scowling.]

Just what do you think you’re doing?!

Keeping us out of the public eye, obviously.

[He lets go of the shirt, but doesn't draw a weapon again, at least, turning to have the door at his back instead. If one of them is going to need to escape, after all, it's going to be him, painfully mortal as he is.]

My, you’ve gone utterly mad, haven’t you? You can’t exactly kill me, spectators or otherwise.

[Ardyn smirked coldly, hair long since gone violet hanging in eyes blighted yellow-gold.]

[Looked like he’d need another push to trigger much more than faint nostalgia.]

I'm perfectly well aware. I'd actually rather not have to go that far.

[Like this, they're very closer in each others' space. There's no real need to be, in this cabin, but here they are.

He can't smell the Scourge, the way you sometimes could at a sick bed when someone was near the end, or in the dissolving remains of a powerful daemon. But he can practically feel it, in the way Ardyn's eyes catch the light. A predator locked in a small space, but Ignis is certainly not prey.]

And you haven't even begun to see the mad things I'll do.

[Because for a moment there was that hesitation, that almost-remembering...]

If Ardyn Lucis Caelum is still in there, then I want to wake him up.

[And without giving Ardyn time to process those words, he moves, empty hand tangling in that violet hair, kissing Ardyn hard as though that alone could drive the Scourge away.]

[He’d barely drawn breath to snap at Ignis to keep that name out of his mouth, that Ardyn Lucis Caelum was dead and buried, that he didn’t know what he was talking about—]

[—but suddenly there was no space between an adviser and the chilled walking corpse that had once been a healer, and a twisting ache where his heart should have been. Without warning, ancient memories burned in as though they had always been there.]

[I’m not strong enough for this.]

[Ardyn pushed Ignis off of him, recoiling with a hand pressed to his eye; black wisps of miasma rose like smoke between his fingers, a few drops falling to the floor like blood before evaporating as well]

You—you, how are you—you disappeared, you left, you promised you wouldn’t leave, you’re just like everyone else-

[He's cold. That's what Ignis notices, surprised since he had been expecting fever warmth. It's all he really has time to process, before he's pushed away, the taste of Scourge in his mouth.

(It's not the worst thing he's ever tasted, but it's up there.)

And it takes a moment to catch up with those words - ]

I didn't leave. I'm right here, aren't I?

Don’t—don’t you dare argue semantics, you were there and then you were just gone, I-

[Ardyn’s whole condescending act had shattered, giving way to frantic shock and anger. He didn’t know if he wanted to throw Ignis out the nearest train window or hug him and mever let go, but he was leaning towards the former.]

[When his hand dropped from his face, the plague had begun to recede—leaving behind familiar scarring.]

How dare you...think you can just come to me now as though you made some kind of difference, as though any of it mattered-!

Edited 2018-04-12 16:35 (UTC)

Do you think I would have ever left you by choice?

[Never. Not even for a moment. He takes in the reappearing scars, watches Ardyn like he itches to pounce and hold him close.]

I went to sleep at your side and woke up here, as though nothing had changed except for me. Ardyn, you - you know the depths of my loyalty, when I decide to give it.

[Down to the very ashes. This Ardyn, at least, knows in full the origin of those scars.]

Loyalty to someone else. [The fury was clear in his strained voice, but without the mockery or bitterness that had fueled it on the altar. This...was just anger born of pain, through and through.]

Not to me. Never to me, the pretender King of Light, but to he who would be shown the true favor of the cursed gods.

To both of you. You think I care one whit for the gods, when they're intent on taking both the people I love away from me?

[He won't pretend to choose one over the other.Neither will he pretend it isn't tearing him apart.

Noctis needs him. But Ardyn, who has no one else, needs him far more right now.]

For fuck's sake, do you think what we did is something I could just forget or turn my back on? What kind of a man do you think I am? You left your mark on my very soul, I'll not turn away from you. Now or ever, whatever you may have become in the meantime.

You’re lying.

[Malice given form shrieked and coiled in his head, all negative thoughts and doubts and hatred struggling to maintain hold on a human heart twisted by the corruption that had stained it through countless injuries.]

You don’t...you don’t care. No one does. All I am is a monster, there’s naught left of what you knew.

Don't be stupid. Monsters don't cry out like that. Not in pain from the heart.

[And when he says it like that, there's only one thing he can do. Step closer and take Ardyn into his arms, ignoring the part of his mind still screaming that this is a predator and wrong and something he needs to get away from.]

...I'm sorry.

[Ardyn froze on the spot—didn’t snap, didn’t push him away, didn’t even summon a knife to stab him.]

[It hurt. The twisting in his chest was matched by a very different one inhis mind, and for just a moment it felt like this was the single breath of air after drowning in an endless black ocean for millennia. Would this brief and uncertain clarity last? He didn’t know, and it was that which led him to put shaking arms around Ignis with a hesitant and half-whispered plea:]

...help me. Please. I don’t...I don’t want this, I can’t control it, it’s too much and too loud and I don’t know how long I can hold it back like this.

[He's not sure what changes, but when Ardyn's arms curl around him in turn, the urge to flee suddenly abates. His body accepts what his heart knows, and his pulse finally begins to settle.]

It's okay. I've got you. We'll figure out something.

...you can’t. You’ve no power to help—Noctis hasn’t the strength to kill me yet. There’s nothing else that can save me from this.

[Clearly conflicted in every way imaginable, Ardyn shook his head and held Ignis a little more tightly even as he protested the concept.]

Just go, before I hurt you again. Go back to your king and...forget me. For your own safety.

I'll forget nothing and go nowhere. Even if I can do nothing else, I'm not merely going to leave you alone with this darkness again.

[With one hand, he reaches up to run his fingers through Ardyn's hair. His plea is just the opposite - ]

Stay. Stay here and let me be your safety a while longer. I'm not so foolish as to think that you're the same person this side of two thousand years, but you are still Ardyn, and these last weeks have been maddening without you.

You think me the one in need of safety? Don’t be a fool, you’re...I’m not...I’m not him anymore.

You're clearly much more distressed about this than I am. I'm perfectly safe right here, regardless of what my hindbrain and its instinctive fear of daemons thinks.

[Ardyn hurting him is out of the question.]

You're the one holding a monster in your arms, imbecile. What's to say I won't just kill you?

Absolutely nothing. But you won't.

[He leans up, kissing the side of Ardyn's neck, gently, briefly.]

You're still beautiful.

Don't-

[Whatever halfhearted protest he tried to come up with was cut off in a short intake of breath.]

...this body isn't even that of a real human; just a false recreation of one. You know nothing of what I truly look like.

It can't possibly be as bad as a mind flayer.

[And if it is - well, he'll deal with it. His attraction to Ardyn is as much emotional and intellectual as it is physical, and whatever lies underneath this skin, the mind inside is still the same. Still begging him to remain even as he tries to push Ignis away.]

Show me.

[Ardyn hesitated, uncertainty burning in his head amidst the choir of shrieking malice that had been the background noise of his life these past long millennia. What could possibly happen, if he did? Ignis would be sensible and leave right now, warn Noctis and the others that Ardyn was on the train with them. Then he'd just have to change the plan a little, and all would still fall right into place.]

[It wouldn't matter. It wouldn't matter, nothing mattered, he didn't matter to anyone anymore.]

[Ardyn pulled away and stepped back-]

[-and when he looked up it was with pallid gray skin, black ichor staining too-yellow eyes and the corner of his mouth like some sick mockery of tears and a smile.]

[Black markings ran over a corpselike complexion like the thin branches of a tree in winter at his neck and hairline, miasma itself coming off of him like the purple-black aura daemons emerged from and sank into on the road in the middle of the night.]

You think me still human...how charmingly stupid. You think there something left to save within this miserable shell? There's nothing. Nothing but the pathetic shreds of memory belonging to a man who tore himself apart to save an ungrateful world.

Ardyn Lucis Caelum is dead. There's naught that lives here now but that which your legends call the Accursed.

...Definitely not as bad as a mind flayer.

[Even Ignis occasionally loses his brain to mouth filter from shock, but the words are true enough. He watches Ardyn for a moment, taking in the transformation in full...

Then nods to himself and steps close again, trailing his fingertips down one stained cheek.]

Dead or not, he's still clearly here in front of me - trying to take on the whole burden of the world to spare others, as usual. You're not fooling me, Ardyn, putting on a dramatic act to push me away because you think it safer for me.

And - [He leans in close, so dangerously close, voice dropping in pitch.] - I'm not having it.

[And with that and a deep breath, he seals their mouths together again, heedless of the dripping scourge and the attempt of his instincts to rebel.]

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