Ignis Scientia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blindsider) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fourstrings2017-09-01 01:38 pm
blindsider) wrote in fourstrings2017-09-01 01:38 pm
all the walls i hide behind
[ He overthinks it, of course. He overthinks everything, but this feels like the most important thing he'll ever do. It needs to be perfect. How, and where, and when - the planning of it makes him anxious to the point of forgetting meals and laying awake at night, until Gladio corners him with a none-too-gentle smack to the back of his head and a strict order to spit out whatever he's worrying at. Despite the rough approach, it helps immeasurably; it's a blessing simply to share his plans, and Gladio rightly points out that Noctis would be more embarrassed than pleased by string quartets or other overt displays and convinces him to “dial it down a little, Iggy”.
The ring is, oddly enough, the easiest part. His mother's wedding and engagement rings are among the very few possessions of his parents' that he still has, and it's easy enough to find a jeweler. The small, delicate pieces are reformed into something wider and less overtly feminine, the stones set flat against the ring to prevent them from catching, the band itself stamped with a subtle fish-scale pattern that lends it a little delicacy despite its otherwise functional design. It feels good in his hand; a ring that will, he hopes, be much more pleasant to wear than Noct's last.
And then there's Lunafreya. Wonderful, beautiful Luna, who'd played such a part in getting them to where they are today. If Luna hadn't survived, hadn't brought all her strength to bear to petition the Astrals the way she did – well, Ignis wouldn't be in any position to make such plans at all. Ignis is something of a traditionalist at heart, and in the absence of a parent to ask, she'd seemed the next natural option. To Ignis, at least. Not, apparently, to Lunafreya herself, who'd initially been puzzled, then whooped with delight, and then – when he was out of the room and, he suspects, not supposed to hear it – laughed herself sick. He can't hold it against her; not when she'd taken his hand in hers, soft laughter in her eyes, and given Ignis her blessing to ask her former betrothed for his hand in marriage.
In the end, he turns back to the beginning. A rooftop garden – not the same one of years ago, Noct's old apartment building having been destroyed, but still high enough to afford a similar view of the lights and bustle of a city that's thriving against all odds, the rebuilding almost complete. A picnic, some very fine wine, and jangling nerves. He can't help thinking back as he waits, pacing. Had it been like this for Noctis back then? All nerves and dread and excitement?
He can ask Noctis when he arrives, he supposes. Although not right away. That would rather spoil the surprise. ]
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I should hope not, [ and it's a little breathless with merriment, there. Though he's not too amused to roll that nipple between his fingertips, trying to make Noct gasp. ] I think we've rather missed the boat on saving ourselves for marriage.
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Great. [ which is all the warning ignis is going to get before noctis undoes the front of ignis' pants in a few well-practiced motions, sliding his hand inside to curl warmly around his dick with a little squeeze. and he presses a kiss against the hollow of ignis' ear, turning to nuzzle warmly into him. ] That means we can get right to it, then.
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