fourstrings | Have I got the strength to ask

Have I got the strength to ask

[He's not been sleeping well.

It's a curious contradiction. The painkillers they've given him list drowsiness as a side effect and the doctors seemed certain enough of their ability to knock him out that they've insisted he set alarms to wake him so he can take more medication, telling him he won't feel like it but if he misses a dose he'll wake in agony. And they do make him feel sleepy, wrapping everything in a cotton-wool fog, but it's when he lays alone at night that the quiet sharpens enough to let him turn events over in a way that denies him sleep.

So much lost. Altissia is in a state of ruin, and the Lady Lunafreya -- he'd only met her once. He'd been allowed a visit when Noctis was healing in Tenebrae, the conviction that he oughtn't miss any of the schooling that would one day be so important something of a moot point when his concern about the prince had seen his classwork plummet anyway. Luna was only a few years older than he, but taller and graceful and so warm that only moments in her presence had entirely snuffed the childish jealousy he felt over Noctis' prattling about how cool and pretty and nice she was. He'd been a little starstruck as a child, and truth be told - all complicating factors aside - he'd looked forward to seeing her again as an adult, a woman full of courage and wisdom.

But Lunafreya is dead, and Ignis sees nothing at all.

It wouldn't be so bad if Noctis were present. He's been such a presence through Ignis' life that just having him around feels grounding, like a tether to home and to reality. Even if he's sulking, or fishing while the rest of them grow bored to tears, or simply sleeping. Prompto tries, bless him; he's a near-constant presence, chatting away and fetching coffee and reading the news to him, but he can tell that even Prompto knows he's not what Ignis craves. But the last time Ignis was in Noctis' presence was when he finally woke, and since then Noctis has sequestered himself and really, Ignis can't begrudge him that. Noctis has lost more than any of them, and Ignis is in no fit state to comfort him. At best Noctis would pity him; at worst, he'd see how adrift Ignis feels, realise the truth of it. He hates the constant battle against slipping into indulgent self-pity, but he at least has the pride not to invite Noctis to sink with him. Perhaps tomorrow he'll source some sweets and send Prompto to deliver them. From what Gladio's told him (and Prompto won't) Noctis is just as likely to refuse that, but at least he'll know they're thinking of him.

The medication has tamed his injury, left it something that stalks and growls instead of roaring, but it does nothing for his unease. He sighs, rolls onto his side, and resigns himself to another lengthy night of missing his vision, and his freedom, and his prince. ]

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[ noctis sleeps, and in his dreams, the waking world is nothing but a nightmare.

in his dreams, his father is alive, and luna with him, and they both crowd around to draw him into their arms and speak to him in warm voices. to tell him how proud they are, how well he's done, how far he's come. to reassure him that it's okay to rest, because he's earned it. and in his dreams, ignis is still whole -- there isn't a trace of scarring on his skin, and his eyes are clear and open and still able to soften at the sight of noctis. he still cuts the same reassuring figure that he always has; calm amidst the chaos, a piece of home that's too strong to be snatched away like all the rest.

but even noctis can't sleep forever, and the ugliness of this new reality is always the same. his father is dead. luna is dead. insomnia is gone. and ignis is still blinded, still scarred -- and still blames him, without a doubt.

after all, it's been days, and noctis hasn't seen him since the first time he woke up. granted, he hasn't seen much of anyone -- the first thing he did was lock the door to his quarters, and he's ignored every attempt to check on him. gladio scolds, shouts, calls him a coward. prompto coaxes, pleads, and even attempts to bribe him out with promises of meals. but ignis? ignis never visits. never comes to speak to him through the door, never texts or calls his phone, never even sends someone else to scold noctis on his behalf for skipping meals and sleeping the day away.

and really, who could blame him? not noctis, that's for sure. he's given noctis everything throughout the years -- gone above and beyond the call of duty time and time again, and his reward? to have his sight stripped away from him, and all the dignity and independence that ignis prizes stolen with it. when ignis needed him, noctis wasn't there. he didn't protect him, he didn't come to save him, and when it counted? even all the magic of his etro-damned bloodline couldn't heal him. why wouldn't ignis hate him? why wouldn't he blame him? why would he stay?

... but noctis is still selfish enough to miss him. still selfish enough to want ignis to come and comfort him, still selfish to wake up in the middle of the night reaching out blindly across the expanse of this too-big bed as if he might find ignis there, still selfish enough to feel the lack of him like a physical ache.

and finally, it's too much.

it's the middle of the night, and ignis must be sleeping, but. here noctis is, standing in front of his door, knocking. because he's already taken everything away, asked everything of ignis, and he's still back to demand more. and he hates himself for it, adds it bitterly to the laundry list of all his failures, but that isn't enough to make him turn around and leave. ]

... Ignis? [ his voice sounds oddly foreign to his own ears, dry and brittle and close to crumbling. ] Are you awake?

[ Awake?

He doubts it, for a moment. The sound of Noct's voice is so welcome, so wanted that he thinks surely he's finally fallen asleep and his subconscious has taken pity on him. It's his enduring blindness that convinces him otherwise, and has him throwing back the covers and moving to unlock the door. Perhaps less sleep-deprived he'd have the energy to worry more about the fact that his uncharacteristically dishevelled appearance is unlikely to offer any comfort - his hair hangs around his face after being washed that evening, and he's not bothered with his usual sleep shirt since it because one more thing to grope ineffectively for in the constant darkness.

He does, however, remember his eyes, and moves back to the bedside table to don his glasses before he opens the door. The careful investigations he's made with tentative fingertips mean he knows they don't hide his scarring, but it's something. ]

Noct. What can I do?

[ he starts when ignis opens the door, flinching back as if he wasn't expecting it. and before he can help it, his gaze flicks up to the sight of ignis' scars -- and then away again immediately after, as if there's some real risk of ignis being able to catch him staring.

suddenly, he feels both very small and very young; it feels almost like he's six again, sneaking into ignis' room because he's had a nightmare. the guilt is an ugly thing in the pit of his stomach, and he's forced to clamp down on the instinctive, nearly-hysterical bout of apologizing that wants to claw its way out of him. (i'm sorry i'm sorry it's all my fault please don't go please don't leave me) ]

... I wanted to check on you. [ lamely, because he knows it sounds stupid even as he says it. it's the middle of the night, after all. ] To, uh. See how you're doing, I guess.

[ Oh.

Oh, that's - sweet, and kind, and a little painful. But as bitter as it is to see their roles reversed this way (he takes care of Noctis, he looks after Noctis and that's the way it should always be) the relief of having him here, of having the confirmation that Noctis isn't lost to him warms him enough to produce a small smile. ]

You should be sleeping. It's the middle of the night.

[ Gentle and quiet, and if it gives any indication of actual chiding that should be put to rest by the way he steps out of the door frame and waves Noctis in. It's foolish, but he fancies he can feel Noct's presence. Certainly he can feel the way his shoulders lift a little at having him near, hearing his voice. Noctis, out of his room. Noctis wanting to see him. Practically it fixes nothing, but he feels the tightness that's locked his chest and throat lift a little all the same. ]

Please, come in.

[ he looks up just in time to catch the sight of ignis' mouth turning upwards in a little smile, and. the sight of it is almost enough to knock the breath out of him, something raw and aching curling itself into a tight knot in his chest. he wasn't expecting... this. he was bracing himself to have ignis be cold to him, or perhaps even openly bitter, but.

here ignis is, speaking to him gently and smiling at him and inviting him in. it's too much, and he wants it so badly, and the guilt churns at the pit of his stomach until he's almost afraid that he might be sick. for a second, irrational and senseless, he almost considers running away -- from ignis, from everyone, locking himself back up in his borrowed room and tunneling back down into the blankets until he falls asleep again and dreams this all away.

gladio's right. he is a coward.

but more than that, more than the fear of facing this, is a craving to let ignis comfort him. and that wins out, enough so that he ends up slinking awkwardly into the room after a moment or two of indecisive hesitating. it's smaller than his own quarters -- just a bedroom, with nowhere to sit but the bed itself. so that's where he ends up, sitting awkwardly down on its edge and letting himself look everywhere but at ignis. ]

... I couldn't sleep.

[ Ignis, of course, can't see Noct's guiltily stricken expression or the way he avoids looking at him, but he hears the tentative sound of his footfalls and the quiet in his voice. It's understandable; things have been difficult beyond what any of them had imagined when they set out. If Noctis wants to be here... well, it's a happy coincidence, something that allows Ignis to take comfort in his presence without feeling like a burden.

The furnishings in his room are all neatly tucked against walls, easy to navigate, so when the door is latched again he has no trouble walking back. But. ]

You're always welcome here. Nightmares?

[ Here meaning with Ignis, ever since they were small. The question serves a purpose, though: issued a few moments before he arrives at the bed, he's hoping to use the response to orient himself. It wouldn't do to sit on the king. ]

[ what's he supposed to say to that? no, because even his worst fucked up nightmares can't possibly compare to this? and he doesn't even have any right to say something like that -- gladio's already been brutally quick to point out how unfair he's being, wallowing in his own guilt and misery when there are people who have it worse.

and he expects ignis to make him feel better?

it's almost like what's he's doing catches up to him all at once; noctis jolts suddenly to his feet when ignis steps closer to him, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to back towards the door again. ] I'm sorry. I shouldn't --

It's late, I shouldn't have -- [ he can't handle this. he can't take ignis being kind to him when he doesn't deserve it; gladio's open anger is almost easier, because at least it's something he can understand. ] It's late, you should sleep, I --

Please -

[ It's out before he can stop it, his voice tight, his hand coming up open-palmed and landing on Noctis wherever it will (shoulder, by the feel of it). He's quick enough to draw it back in embarrassment. ]

I wasn't sleeping. It's been... difficult.

[ He knows where Noctis is now, at least, and sits heavily on the bed. Elbows rest on his knees and he rests his face in his hands for a moment before he speaks again. He doesn't want Noctis to leave - is desperate for him not to - but equally, he doesn't wish to force him to stay. ]

During the day I often think all I want is to be alone, but when I am... [ another smile, though it's bitter where the first had been warm ] Well. As it turns out, it's rather lonely. I'd welcome the company, if you're willing.

[ that please is all it takes to stop him, tangled up like a rabbit in a snare. ... but when ignis sits down like that, looking worn out and far older than noctis has ever seen him, it's enough to make everything inside him ache. immediately, he takes an almost helpless half-step back towards him, itching with the need to comfort and be comforted. ]

I --

[ his fingers curl into fists at his side, and the gesture is enough to make him realize that he's shaking. ready to come undone, everything inside him built upon a foundation that's slipping and sliding and crumbling underneath his own weight. ] ... I thought you didn't want to see me.

[ and he doesn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but there's a wounded note in his voice. ] I thought maybe you'd tell me to go away.

[ I thought you didn't want to see me, Noctis says, and Ignis' hand is already lifting to gesture to his ruined eyes as if a joke will take the sting out of the fact that he'd give anything - anything - to see Noct's face again.

But then Noctis continues, and the sound of that hurt in his voice is clear and sharp, and Ignis lets his hand fall back to his lap and sucks a sharp breath.

It would be fair, he thinks, to point out that Noctis has consistently dismissed every attempt Prompto and Gladio have made to reach him, and that there was no reason for Ignis to think he'd be treated any differently. Or to explain that he's only just starting to find the balance in the painkillers he's on - that he'd first felt too slow and too stupid to manage much of anything, then stubbornly lowered his dosage against medical advice and paid for that arrogance in precisely the way you'd expect.

It would be fair, but it wouldn't be the whole truth. ]

I didn't want you to see me.

[ It's quiet, and leaden with shame, but there's a kind of relief in having said it aloud. Like lancing a boil; it's disgusting, but at least it relieves the pressure. He grits his teeth, curls his fingers into his palms. ]

The doctors have been very good, but it's difficult to adjust. I still stumble, or walk into things. It's hard to feel I'll be much good to you if I'm tripping over the coffee table. So I kept delaying it. Planning to see you once I got used to the cane, or once I could find my way to your room without tripping or getting lost.

They were excuses, and I owe you an apology.

[ oh.

... in retrospect, once ignis explains, it seems almost stupid of noctis not to have already known. he's known ignis all his life, and he knows how dearly the man holds onto his pride; of course he wouldn't want noctis to see him struggling, and of course he'd be ashamed of the limitations his injury has forced onto him.

and still, the relief hits him with all the force of a physical punch, driving into his ribs and knocking the breath clean out of him. ignis doesn't hate him. ignis doesn't blame him. ignis says that he planned to come see him, and noctis trusts him too much to doubt that it's true. ]

Don't. [ quickly, with one firm shake of his head that ignis can't see. ] You don't owe me anything. Especially not an apology.

Not when -- [ and he cuts himself short so sharply that he almost bites down on his own tongue. all that guilt just seems to knot itself up with the relief, swelling up inside him until it forms an ugly lump in his throat that he can't swallow past. he blinks hard, and it's enough to make him realize that he's crying -- and even if ignis won't be able to see the tears, it's evident enough in his voice. and he hates that he hasn't been able to cry when he's had the luxury of being alone -- it's only now, in front of ignis, that the weakness comes clawing its way out of him. ] ... it's my fault. I should've --

[ been there. protected you. done something. ]

[ It's very difficult to take any comfort in Noctis' reassurances that he doesn't owe an apology when he knows full well that it required an external force to bring them together again. For every step he took closer to what Noctis needs him to be, there'd only be another flaw he felt he should correct.

He's spared having to say so, but not precisely in the way he'd prefer. He hears the thickening catch in Noct's voice, familiar to him from all their long years together (though not as familiar, he thinks, as it rightfully could be; Noctis has endured enough to justify twice the tears he's ever permitted himself to shed), and the sound of it demolishes any desire to maintain the careful distance between them. ]

Sit with me, Noct. Please.

[ A pat at his side, ruffling plush bedding that he'd have been desperately grateful for if there hadn't been so much else to deal with. They've been apart for longer than they've been since he finished university, and he craves the closeness. Craves too the reassurance that Noctis won't flee, won't be out of the room before Ignis can realise and try to stop him. ]

I've replayed that moment in my mind a hundred times since it happened, thinking of what I might've done to keep my sight. You have never been the deciding factor.

I'm feeling rather possessive of my little tragedy, Noct. I won't stand for you blaming yourself if I can't.

[ it's like he has no defense against the sound of ignis saying please. or maybe he's just that desperate for physical comfort, for the reassurance of ignis' arms around him -- because it doesn't take more coaxing for him to close the distance between them with a few stumbling steps, sinking down heavily onto the bed where ignis indicated. ... and then, because he can't help himself, he tucks himself closely up against ignis' side, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and turning his face into ignis' shoulder. their current position is hardly ideal for cuddling, but noctis doesn't care; everything in him is driving him to latch onto ignis like there's some real risk of losing him if his grip loosens even a little.

and the next sob comes in earnest, a choked and painful thing that he muffles into ignis' skin. it'll be impossible to deny the fact that he's crying now, but... it's not like it's the first time. ignis has been there through some of noctis' worst moments; in that way, this is nothing new. ]

I wanted to protect you.

[ he failed his father. he failed luna. why did he have to fail ignis, too? it isn't fair, to be gifted with all this strength and then to not even be able to use it for the good of the people he loves. ]

[ It's almost pure instinct, the way he folds into the hug. An arm around Noct's back, holding him close, and a hand at the back of his head to stroke his hair as he's tucked into his shoulder. Despite the terrible things that have occurred, this has always felt right. The closeness, the sense of being interconnected that's been with them from childhood. It would be appropriate to murmur to him, to whisper a shh, shh, but he has every right to cry. ]

Leviathan would have destroyed Altissia and every soul in it without your intervention. I'd rather be blind than dead.

[ It's not supposed to be flippant. He wouldn't trade his sight for all the additional lives that would have been lost, either. It's something that had become a sick sort of game as he lay awake - weighing what he'd be willing to sacrifice in exchange for being whole. Nothing so far has seemed acceptable. ]

Your actions saved people. Myself included. Don't hold yourself to an impossible standard.

[ The world is doing that for him. ]

[ it's the first time since luna's death that the world has seemed even a little bit okay. because ignis is still here, and ignis still wants to hold him, and that's something. and it's why noctis can't help but to latch onto him as if for dear life; he came so close to losing ignis, and now he's left struggling with the reality of his own inability to protect the people he loves.

all his strength, all of it, still hadn't been enough. ]

If I'd been stronger --

[ but there's no point in if, is there? it won't change anything now. and his next exhale is a sharp thing, heavy with all of that frustration, a quick and ragged breath against ignis' bare skin. ] ... I wish it had been me.

Noctis.

[ It's sharp, shocked. Enough to have his arm tightening almost crushingly around Noct's shoulders, his fingers digging into his hair in fright. It's only a moment, and one he regrets instantly. He's quiet as his grip relaxes, fingers stroking to soothe where his fingertips had dug in, his breath slow. ]

Don't.

[ It's natural, he supposes. Had their positions been reversed, he'd have given his sight to preserve Noct's without a second thought. Still, even the thought of it fills him with a kind of curdled horror. He focuses to stop himself from chasing it. Concentrates on the plume of Noct's breath against his skin, the familiar scent of his hair. ]

Come here.

[ Pulling away as he says it, shifting back along the bed. He has not seen this vulnerability in Noctis since they were very small. Back then, everything had seemed far more fixable, and they would bundle themselves under the covers, curling close and speaking in whispers until they fell asleep and woke to a morning that seemed brighter. They're no longer children, and the morning will relieve none of their burdens, but it's the best he can think to offer. ]

Edited (nobody likes a surprise period) 2017-04-26 10:59 (UTC)

[ he only huffs a noise in response, because it'd be easy enough to argue the point if he wasn't so damn worn out. he's tired of everyone else around him being expendable for his sake -- he isn't special enough to warrant it, prophesies be damned, and the idea of people throwing their futures away for him sits on his shoulders with a crushing sort of weight.

but ignis tells him to come here, and noctis obeys -- partly because he's too tired to argue, and partly because he already misses the security of ignis' arms around him. his limbs feel like lead, his eyes are gritty from crying, and there's a dull ringing in his head that warns of a monstrous headache on the horizon. even putting one foot in front of the other on this path that they're on seems like an impossible task; all he wants is to curl up under the blankets and let ignis hold him and tell him that everything will turn out okay.

so he tucks himself under the blankets, slow and stilted as if even the slightest of movements is enough to cause him pain. and then he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face into the pillow, as if that'll be enough to cancel everything else out. ]

[ It's not as if Ignis had wanted Noctis to refuse, but it's still a little alarming to feel him comply wordlessly. Like he has as much freedom in this as he does in his fate. The flip side of that, of course, is that it's comforting. He's always been the one telling Noctis to attend this meeting and send apologies for that one, to ensure he greets certain people at functions, to at least eat an extra serving of fruit if he's going to push his vegetables to the side of the plate. This lets him capture a little of that back, to feel as if he still serves a purpose; Noctis is fraught and cannot sleep, and Ignis can help him.

The weight of Noctis on the bed makes his position easy to determine, but Ignis is still careful as he smooths the covers over Noctis. He sets his dark glasses on the bedside table and then, slowly and cautiously, he slips downward to curl against Noct's back, to wrap an arm around to hold him. ]

I don't say it because you're the king, you know. You are my oldest and dearest friend. I think most people want to see the ones they love happy and safe. Being pleased you're not blind on top of it all is a raw deal by comparison, but I'll take it.

[ there's something reassuring about being tucked in like this, almost as if he's a child again. and it's even better when ignis slips underneath the blankets next to him, and noctis is able to roll over and throw an arm over him in turn. it allows him to nestle up that much closer, until he can feel the steady drum of ignis' heartbeat echoing into him, feel the soft rumble of his voice spilling up from his chest. ]

... I know. [ and he tucks his head up under ignis' chin, drawing in a slow breath. ] But that's why I want to keep you safe, too.

And... all of this stuff is supposed to be my burden. [ however much he resents the fact. ] It's not fair to make you pay for it.

[ The way Noctis turns and fits against him is a comfort, a warm and precious thing after so much has happened to make them feel distant. In this, at least, they're in the same boat. Each wanting to protect the other, and each knowing that in the grand scheme of things it's impossible. ]

It's not. But none of this is fair. I -

[ It's difficult. It feels childish to complain about the unfairness of it, but Noctis is so young it scarcely feels like he's been allowed time to have a life of his own before being required to devote it to the security of his people. At least Ignis had the luxury of being able to choose to stay with Noctis, and he's increasingly aware that his injury may rob him of even that. ]

I don't consider it paying. I realise that's splitting hairs, but it's easier for me to accept if I consider it something that happened while I was doing what I believed in rather than a price that was extracted from me.

[ he takes a long moment to roll that idea over in his mind, examining it from all angles. it... makes sense, and noctis can understand it. it's something he's tried convincing himself of -- that he's doing this because he wants to, not because it's a role that destiny requires of him. it's just that he's never had much success in making himself believe that it's true, but...

... then again, it's not that surprising that ignis is able to accept the idea with this much maturity and ease. he's always been better at the duty stuff. ]

... I don't deserve to have someone that's as good as you. [ and he butts his forehead gently into ignis' collarbone, swallowing hard. ] ... but I'm glad you're here, Specs. I couldn't do this without you.

[ and Ignis swats him.

Gently, of course, little more than a tap on the shoulder, but honestly. ]

Noctis Lucis Caelum, you deserve the stars. Not wanting to carry this burden doesn't make you any less brave or good for doing it. If anything, it makes you more so. But I'm glad to be with you.

[ A moment of quiet, then. "I couldn't do this without you" is the sort of rote response people give to someone who's been at their side through tragedy, but Noctis has never been the sort to give meaningless responses. It feels almost like being intentionally hurtful to raise it when Noctis seems to have settled into a sort of calm quiet, but it'll need to be addressed sooner or later. ]

You understand that my capabilities are limited, now. The doctors tell me there's some hope my vision will return, but until then I'm more likely to be a burden on you than an asset.

[ okay, well, out of all the potential replies noctis was expecting, a swat wasn't high up on his list. so it gets a little snort of surprise out of him, rearing back a little to see if ignis looks like he's planning on following that up with a proper smack.

... and then he probably would have laughed, except for the fact that what follows is enough to make him fluster. and maybe it's a good thing that ignis can't see the way the heat catches in his cheeks, nor the way he ducks his chin down shyly into his chest in response to that assertion. of course, the last bit is enough to somber those little giddy embers of his crush, so. ]

... if you wanted to stay behind, I wouldn't blame you. [ quietly, doing his best to keep his voice level. trying to keep any hint of how much the idea of losing ignis terrifies him out of his voice. ] Cid could probably get you back to Hammerhead, or... you could stay here, I guess. I remember you saying how much you liked Altissia.

[ not that there's much of the altissia ignis once loved left, but still. ]

... but it's your choice, Ignis. You'll never be a burden to me, no matter what happens.

[ Ignis' left eye is damaged beyond the ability to produce tears. Laying on his side means the gentle welling in his right pools for a moment, collecting at the bridge of his nose before it becomes necessary for him to lift his arm from where it's curled around Noctis so he can swipe it away. It's embarrassing, deeply so, but better than dampening the pillow they're tucked against. Or at least he's tucked against it; Noctis is mostly tucked against him, in a prime position to hear the shuddering sigh of relief that escapes him before he can catch it.

His choice. It's more than he'd hoped for. Since Leviathan's raising went so terribly wrong it's seemed there have been very few choices available to him. Doctors prescribing this or forbidding that, Gladio's refusal to let him even attempt to venture outside by himself, even Prompto's eagerness to anticipate his needs and make sure things are arranged before Ignis can even decide he needs them. It's all born from kindness, he knows, from a desire to make sure he has nothing to worry about but healing, but none of the good intentions stop it from feeling stifling. Feeling like pity.

And here is Noctis, giving him a choice in a matter that Noctis should probably dictate. ]

Then I choose you. I belong with you.

[ it probably isn't the right call for a million reasons.

ignis will have a hard enough time adapting to his ailment without having to do it on an active battlefield -- allowing him to come along is putting him directly into harm's way, stripped of the ability to defend himself effectively. and someone as brutally pragmatic as gladio will probably have no problem pointing out that attempting to protect ignis will put the rest of them in danger, and their mission is too damn important to take any added risks. and besides all of that, ignis deserves the chance to rest, and he damn well won't ever volunteer himself for a chance to recuperate on the sidelines. it should be up to noctis to force his hand, to demand that he lets himself recover in safety.

... but he's selfish, and he wasn't lying when he said he couldn't imagine doing this without ignis at his side.

so he just snuggles himself up a little closer against ignis' warmth, notching up against him like a matching piece of a puzzle. ] Then you can stay with me as long as you want. And anyone who wants to argue is gonna have to go through me.

[ Given how often he's called upon to be the voice of reason (or diplomacy), it's either ironic or a bad sign that he has no words now. Now, when it feels more important than ever to tell Noctis just how grateful he is, how much that allowance means to him. Noctis is not stupid, and Ignis is aware it can't have escaped him that this isn't the right choice, but knowing that just makes it feel more significant, more of a gift. And all of his gratitude and relief and love knot up in his throat to silence him so that for just a moment he's as mute as he is blind. And then Noctis presses in close, fitting snugly and easily against him, and the reassurance that they belong at one another's side unlocks something in him that makes everything seem alright, however fleetingly.

He dips his head, nosing against the silky mess of Noct's hair, lips pressing against his forehead, and takes relief in just being permitted to hold him. ]

Thank you, Noct. That means - everything.

[ Voice still thick with emotion, his eye still damp, and faced with the immensity of the gift Noctis has given him he can't even find it in himself to be ashamed. ]

[ the way that ignis noses down against him and presses a kiss against his forehead is enough to make noctis' heart do a little skip in his chest, and that thank you is so openly sincere that he has to struggle to keep from squirming in embarrassment. ]

I should be the one thanking you. You're the one who's sticking around.

[ He laughs at that, just a quiet little huff. It's too much, maybe, but wrapped in the little cocoon they've made of the blankets and each other he feels as if he could say almost anything. ]

I don't know what I'd do with myself if I wasn't with you. I'd thought about it when I was in university, when there were research grants and opportunities. It never took me long to realise I wouldn't have been happy. I'd always have been wondering about you, how you were doing. Missing you. After everything we've been through since we left Insomnia, I can only imagine how much worse that would feel. I'd be a wreck. Not because you're the king, or because this is what I trained for. Just because of how much I care for you.

[ the weight of that statement is enough to leave him a little dizzy. ... but not in a bad way -- it means a lot to him that ignis cares about him enough to want to stay, and not just out of some sense of duty to his king or his country. just because he's noctis.

... at a time when everything is so uncertain, it means a lot to him (more than he can even begin to say), to know that this one thing is still secure. that even something like this isn't enough to make ignis lose faith in him, to make him want to leave.

if he were more eloquent, he'd put his thanks into words. ... but he isn't, so. instead he just bumps his forehead gently against ignis' collarbone, a silent gesture of affection. ] ... back when you were in university, I was pretty sure you were going to quit.

[ and then, with a little exhale of a laugh: ] I figured that getting to spend all day around a bunch of books and nerds was way more your thing.

[ Noctis bumps his head against him like an affectionate cat, and it's enough to wave away the maudlin thoughts, or the threat of more tears of gratitude at finding there's still a place for him. He laughs instead, low and quiet,and shift his hand to thread fingers into Noct's hair and stroke there. ]

What, and give up the opportunity to always be the smartest person in the room? It's like you don't even know me.

[ A glib answer to a somewhat touchy recollection. The truth of it is that even at their worst, when things had been so cold between them that he'd been sure Noctis didn't want him around, the thought of Noctis not being in his life any longer had been more than enough to prevent any offers from seeming very appealing at all. No matter what he's felt for Noctis through all the years - kinship, frustration, awkward attraction - it's always been rooted in love. The kind that lasts a lifetime, regardless of proximity or difficult times. ]

Nothing would have been worth losing you.

[ Not a comfortable life of academia, not accolades for research, not his sight. ]

[ he snorts at that, even though it melts away into a pleased sound as ignis starts to comb his fingers gently through noctis' hair. it's always been one of the fastest ways to lull him to sleep -- even when his nightmares are at their worst, ignis has never failed in soothing him back down to sleep with a little bit of petting. and it's probably no surprise that it's working now; his body is still trying to recover from his battle with leviathan, and being cuddled up in the blankets with ignis already has him warm and relaxed. ]

Like you still wouldn't be the smartest guy around. No one in that dumb university had anything on you, Specs.

[ but he hesitates over the next bit for a moment, before: ] ... and even if you decide you want to do something else one day, it doesn't mean you'll lose me. I mean... you're one of the most important people in my life. That's never gonna change, no matter what happens.

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Have I got the strength to ask

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