“Would telling him no have changed much? He could have saved you despite your wishes, or let you die, then your brother and his companions would have been both saddened and enraged. Is that future better than the one that you have already accomplished?” He hadn’t aimed to put ideas in her head, merely pointing out the other side of what she’d been told. His job was to keep things in balance. Her balance had been tampered with, and he intended on putting it back.

“Oh c’mon Iiggy.  Just tell him you like him! What will waiting do?” Iris mused, cocking her head curiously. “I say you go right up to him, open up your shirt a little and kiss!”

“It’ll be suuuuper romantic.”

“It is... much harder than that for him and I.” Ignis jumped to his own defense. “And I would never do anything that up front!” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

     “Better me than you.” It’s the harsh reality that his body will likely sustain more scars than there are years in his age by the time he goes. but at least those he loves will know the suffering he endured so they don’t have to. It is his only gift he can give, his only recompense for what they’ve provided for him. A place to belong. A purpose. A reason to stay strong. When all else around him crumbled, he found resolve in the faces of his loved ones. Dwindling as they may be.

     Gladio might be a soldier at heart with enough muscle to lend to three men, but he was smart and he knew his sister well enough to recognize the look on her face. She brought news he wouldn’t want to hear and feared his response. Which could only mean she’d either found a guy she liked or someone he knew had died. Was it wrong to prefer the latter? His gaze falls to the cup in question, brows furrowing subtly. She even brought him a peace-treaty. Was the news really that bad?

     “You weren’t interrupting much.” A gentle gesture with book in hand, he places it pages-down to keep his spot while he relieves her of the tea, shifting to give her a proper place to sit around his bulky frame. Even if the drink was nothing like Ignis’s, she’d made it specifically for him. Not many people took time to prepare things properly anymore and if her time with them, during her own travels, had taught her anything, he knew this would taste better than his usual swill.

     They’d waited so long by the Crystal’s side, hoping beyond hope that the process would take only days. One month passed, another. The Daemons, despite their aversion to the Crystal’s power, had gathered outside, far outnumbering what strength remained in their exhausted bones. They couldn’t stay anymore.

     A reluctance in each of their hearts, they gathered their camping gear and set out back home. Where there was civilization and blessed light in droves. They didn’t talk much. Not to each other. Seemingly disheartened and drifting further away from each other. He’d taken up refuge in a small shack on the outskirts, just far enough into the settlement to be protected, but far enough away from it the noise didn’t keep him up at night.

     Unfortunately he’s still up when Iris knocks, amber gaze lifting to the door briefly though his thumb marks his place in the book he’s reading.