Get in time traveller

[warmgaze]

[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.]

Comments

[scourgingstars]

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.

[warmgaze]

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.

1/2

[scourgingstars]

[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-]

[scourgingstars]

[-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.

[warmgaze]

...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.]

[scourgingstars]

[Everything in his head screamed to push Ignis away, even to draw a blade and kill him just to silence this conflict and confusion; the fury and malice he was comprised of hated it, hated the vague shreds of humanity struggling so hard to protect him.]

[...But he did none of that. Didn't even give a single thought to the possibility of infection, didn't object or back away. In fact he answered that kiss with his own after a brief hesitation, as if doing so was second nature as the miasma receded and color slowly returned to his skin.]

[warmgaze]

[Finally.

And then he's home. Solid and secure against the one person he'd call lover, no matter what else he might be. His Ardyn is far from alive and well but he is here, right now, and so hey little else matters at the moment.

Eventually, the kiss breaks, because Ignis needs to breathe even if Ardyn doesn't.]

I could certainly get used to that. ...Do you know why it tastes of licorice?

[scourgingstars]

Wh...what?

[Dazed and breathless even without the need for air, Ardyn tried to latch on to the sheer absurdity of that question.]

I don't-...I can't taste anything. I haven't been able to since I stopped being human.

[warmgaze]

Now that is a true curse.

[He leans against Ardyn with a contented exhale.]

What can you feel, then?

[scourgingstars]

...I don't feel much of anything, truthfully.

[Pain, hunger, fatigue, joy, sadness--there were a lot of implications there, all of them accurate.]

[warmgaze]

That's a half-assed answer and you know it.

[Fine, Ardyn, he'll just have to experiment, putting his arms around your neck in order to better angle himself. And then he grinds their hips together, hard.]

Did you feel that?

[scourgingstars]

[The quiet (and probably very familiar) half-gasped sound that left him was probably a better response than most.]

You...you can't be serious. Are you actually propositioning the vessel of the Starscourge. In the middle of a train carrying the Chosen King and the rest of his entourage?

[warmgaze]

I am positioning my lover, who I haven't seen in weeks and who hasn't seen me in some centuries, who happens to have a certain highly infectious disease that we can take suitable precautions against. Everything else can bloody well wait for an hour or two, because I haven't taken more than a few minutes for myself since Noctis woke up in Altissia.

[He takes a deep breath.]

Though you may need a solid scrubbing first, you're fairly filthy and the dirt is ground into your skin. I don't even want to think about how long you must have been wearing these clothes.

[scourgingstars]

...all these endless ages and you still sound like my mother.

[warmgaze]

[...Pause, snort.]

Because that's exactly what I want to hear when I'm trying to get you out of your pants.

[scourgingstars]

Don't act like that and I won't have to say it, imbecile.

[warmgaze]

I won't have to act like that if you let me give you a good scrubbing.

[He pauses to smirk.]

So, showers?

[scourgingstars]

You're ridiculous, this is the worst idea you could possibly have, and I might end up killing you.

[...]

Absolutely.

[warmgaze]

That's just a risk I'm willing to take.

Speaking of risks, however, best you let me go first, unless you want our liaison to come to a sudden end by running into one of the others.

[scourgingstars]

You really think that's a risk? I can go unseen whenever I like, as I think you well know.

[...he's just bad at acting like gladio.]

[warmgaze]

And yet you were waltzing down the hallway in your own shape nonetheless.

[SIGH.]

Truly reckless, you.

[scourgingstars]

You've never known me to be anything less.

[warmgaze]

Not even once.

[And he presses against Ardyn's side with a small laugh, finally feeling some kind of tension leak out of him.]

But much as I appreciate your regular shape, I am a bit eager to get started.

[scourgingstars]

Fine--let's go, before the first decent moment of lucidity I've had in centuries wears off.

[warmgaze]

Oh, don't worry, I hope to give you many more.

[Plurk demands cheek kiss so a cheek kiss you get, Ardyn. It's a long way to Gralea, yet.]