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]

[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.]

[scourgingstars]

[And thank heavens for that, because you're getting pulled into another kiss before they head off to the showers.]

[warmgaze]

[Oh hell yes. He's going to have a Pavlovian boner for the taste of licorice at this rate.

To the showers! Where there's nothing at all weird about cramming one reasonably tall and one very tall person into a space meant for one, this is surely fine. Ardyn's skinny.

At least they can put their clothes straight into the Armiger, that's handy.]

Mmm... I've got everything from soft cloth to steel wool, tell me your limits.

[scourgingstars]

I can't say drawing blood is a good idea when that blood is an infectious plague. But I-...haven't had meaningful human contact in two millennia. Please--touch me, do whatever you want with me, I don't care. Just don't leave.

[warmgaze]

That, I can definitely do.

[No hesitation as he runs a hand down Ardyn's neck onto his shoulders. He can definitely touch this all over.

Scrubby sponge first, somewhere in the middle, see how that works.]

Though I think I preferred it when you dressed a little more conservatively. Easier to get you in and out of.

[scourgingstars]

Mm...just means you have to work a bit harder.