all the walls i hide behind

[blindsider]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[linkstrike]

[ rebuilding an empire is no small task.

and it seems like all of them have been working tirelessly since that first dawn -- reclaiming insomnia from the daemons and the darkness, patching what could be salvaged and rebuilding what was beyond repair. welcoming people back to their homes, and orchestrating all of the necessary infrastructure and relief efforts that come with settling the displaced population back into the capital.

really, noctis is just fortunate to have the kind of help that he does. he'd be absolutely lost without the wisdom and guidance of the people around him, and there's more than enough work to go around. enough that he can go days without any contact from ignis other than the occasional hurried memo or report.

so being asked out on a date feels a little too good to true. and sure, it means overhauling his schedule and calling in a few favors, but... for a date? totally worth it.

he's a little surprised to find that the address ignis gives him is an apartment building and not a restaurant -- but, hey, it has been awhile since they've had a night to themselves. maybe ignis is just inclined to skip straight past the pleasantries and onto the bedroom?

... or not.

but the sight of the little picnic spread is more than enough to make up for any potential disappointment about ignis not come-hithering him straight away. it's enough to bring back memories of far simpler times -- of sweaty palms and a stomach full of butterflies, the feeling of being so hopelessly (helplessly) smitten that he's aching with it. it was a clumsy, childish effort at wooing someone, but... then again, it's hard to argue with results. ]

Charmer. [ stepping up behind ignis, looping an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. ] You know my heart's already yours, right? No wooing required.