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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I want you. Desperately. Please.
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[He shivers lightly and presses closer, chest to chest.]
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[Ardyn pushed back against him, guiding Ignis to step back against the nearest wall while pressing a biting kiss to his throat.]
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At this rate I'd be surprised if we managed to get all our clothes off.
[And yet here he is, flushed and tilting his head aside to give Ardyn better access to his neck, glancing swiftly to be sure the door is locked before his glasses inevitably wind up knocked out of place.]
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[He feels more than sees the shimmer of magic, wrapping around them, and his breath hitches as Ardyn bends down over his neck again. It's soon forgotten under that attention, his toes curling in his shoes.
The most frightening predator is the one you don't even want to escape from.]
Ardyn -
[His breath keeps deserting him before he can get a coherent thought out.]
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[Ardyn hummed contentedly against Ignis' throat, trailing kisses and bites up to his jawline while wandering hands pinned him back against the wall.]
...tell me what you want.
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But he still manages to make that fuzzy idea into words, with the urgency of an order that may well be life or death.]
You, condom, now, slow again later. Is your plan this time to drive me as mad as you are?
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[They did not, in fact, quite make it to the shower.]
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You're as magnificent as ever. I'd hardly think you out of practice.
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[Which was half-murmured into the tactician's hair, hands working gentle circles against his back as if to work out tension that was already long gone.]
...how long until the others wonder where you've gone?
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[He probably shouldn't tell Ardyn any more than that, but it's hard, when those fingers are working into his back so wonderfully. When he trusts Ardyn with the whole of his body, Starscourge or no.]
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[Because in the end, what exactly had changed between this morning and right now, after the shift in time had settled and memories clicked back into place? The prince's entourage was still a disaster, still walking neatly along the path set for them...and Ardyn was still the thing he'd become.]
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[Ardyn is the one who has to decide that.]
We're not at the end yet.
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[He brought one arm around Ignis' shoulders, stroking gently through his hair with the other hand.]
I'm still like this, which means everything's still liable to fall into place exactly as already planned.
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I don't want to be enemies with you.
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[He reaches out, threads his fingers through Ardyn's.]
Fight with us in this coming dark, not against us.
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[He squeezes that hand.]
What I do know is that you are as much a liability whether you are being our ally or not. Therefore, I see naught but good in convincin you to at least make the effort.
You are better than this, Ardyn. You are not lost yet, and you do not want to be lost. That is what has changed.
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I'm sorry. But it didn't change anything.
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