#ignisfluff

Banners strung from the ramparts, white and inlaid with jewels the color of iridescent flame, welcomed him home. Long carpets of red and black greeted him as they were rolled down the palace steps, and fanfare rung high and clear throughout the courtyard, signaling his ascent. There were others, too; faces he neither recognized nor particularly cared to, cheering as they lined his path.

All of these things Ignis saw without seeing. After years - decades - of blindness, perhaps the sudden clarity of the world around him should have felt alien, jarring even. But it didn’t. As he climbed the steps toward the Citadel, his mind was clear. He understood exactly why he had been called to this place.

Familiar paths down familiar halls, past tapestries and paintings he’d seen in another lifetime, led him at last to the throne room. There, too, banners had been hung from the high ceiling - the same white-and-iridescence as the suit he wore - and curved down and out in beautiful, elegant arcs. Opening up the room and drawing the eye directly to the dais, upon which the King stood waiting.

Ignis followed the sight. He strode across the otherwise empty hall, listening to the click of his shoes against the marble and recalling days long past - days when he'd run here, played here, sworn a solemn oath upon these very steps. An oath that had, in a way, led him back here in the end, though this time he had come to take a different kind of vow.

The King was smiling as Ignis approached. He wore a suit of dark blues and gold and decorated in the sigils of his forefathers. The sash draped across his chest from his left shoulder appeared to be made of the same silk as the banners above. When Ignis paused, breath stolen by the sight of him. Noctis reached out one white-gloved hand to draw him up the last few steps. Into an embrace far too many years overdue.

"Noct," he said in joy and in reverence. "How is this possible? You haven't aged a day."

Warm fingers found his cheeks. Traced over the scars, the wrinkles, the lines that had slowly deepened over the course of his full life. Up to his temples to brush through strands of white hair flecked with cinnamon, and Noct smiled again. "Maybe I should even the odds?"

In the span of a heartbeat, he was changed. Noctis stood before him now older, eyes heavy with the weight and passing of many years. Yet behind the thick, grey beard that lined his jaw, he was still smiling. Ignis’ breath hitched at the sight. The face before him was the spitting image of King Regis - regal, youthful, handsome; how he might have looked without the drain of the Crystal’s magic to dull the complexion of his skin.

Perhaps Noct misread the awe in Ignis’ silence, for suddenly he was changing again. Not into the bold young king who had greeted him on the dais, but into a more familiar form - into the sleepy prince whose hair fell in a veil over his eyes, and with whom Ignis had first fallen deeply in love.

“Is this better?” he pressed, teeth flashing at whatever shade of wonder had flushed across Iggy’s cheeks. Those brilliant eyes drew him in, those soft lips brushed the bridge of his nose, and Ignis felt his chest swell to bursting even as the first tears began to fall.

“Noctis, how I’ve missed you.”

Catching the strain in his voice, his prince - his king - drew their hands together between them. Ignis noticed vaguely that his own fingers appeared stronger, straighter, his hands once again vibrant with youth as Noctis clasped them to his breast.

“We’ve both waited long enough. Are you ready?”

A nod, firm and resolute.

“I always have been.”

The ceremony took place there in the throne room. Faces watched from below the steps as Noctis, grown once more into the proud man Ignis last knew him to be, recited his vows in an unwavering voice. Ignis’ turn came next, his heart supplying the words where experience failed him. And though there was no ring, the matching scars they bore around their fingers served as proof enough. Proof of their bonds, and of the depth of their devotion to duty, to one another.

It ended with a kiss. Cheers rose up around them in a crescendo of joy, matched only by the pounding of Ignis’ heart in his chest as he tasted Noct’s lips - so sweet, so perfect - after far, far too many years.

Long before the kiss broke, the sounds of applause began to fade. Further and further until Ignis sensed that the room around them had grown empty. The wedding was over; the guests had dispersed.

Alone at last, he pulled away from his king’s - his husband’s - mouth and smiled. “I do believe that was worth the wait.”

Noctis’ reply was a laugh that resonated like music in the hall. “Come on, Specs. Your throne’s been expecting you.”

The king settled back into the cushions of the seat from which his father’s before him had ruled over Lucis. A kingdom which now existed only in memory as the winds of change - and eventually of peace - had swept over the land in the wake of the Dawn. Ignis had lived to see that peace, had even played a role in its establishment, and for that he was grateful for the time he’d had. But now, here at the end, he longed for rest.

His throne was a seat of marble and bronze to Noct’s right, and he moved toward it when his king beckoned. Feeling his way along the arms out of habit, he finally lowered himself down to let the silky cushions swallow him up. Sighed and yawned as Noct’s fingers stroked back through his hair. Smiled as warm lips once more met his in the space between them.

You leaned forward against the island counter in Ignis’ kitchen, your arms crossed as you watched him glide about, gathering ingredients and utensils as he moved. Coffee beans, a mug, milk and… sugar cubes?

“Ignis…” you drawled, sliding further down into your chair, “Is this really necessary?”

He nodded, sparing you a glance over his shoulder before he set to work. “Yes. I daresay I can make you the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.”

You raised a brow. “No offense, Igs, but you’re going for the wrong audience. I’ll like coffee no sooner than Noct will like vegetables.”

Ignis paused, holding a hand up to his chest and fixing you with the most faux-pained look you’d ever seen on his face. “You wound me.”

You laughed as he turned back to his task, an adorable pout visible on his visage. “Alright, I’ll humor you. Make me the best cup of joe ever, chef Scientia. If I like it, um…” You paused for a moment, cupping your face in your hands as you considered your next plan of action. “I’ll give you a prize.”

Six, that was reckless of you. That was actually really stupid. Take it back, take it back--

“All the more incentive,” Ignis replied, completely unaware of your inner turmoil.

You sighed internally. No takebacks now. What could you even give him that wouldn’t potentially ruin your friendship with him? You bit the inside of your cheek, struggling to keep the frown off of your face.

All you could think about was a kiss, or a dinner date, or buying him something that he completely and utterly deserved but was also too expensive for a mug of coffee (something he would undoubtedly try to turn down), or -- nothing that gave the ring of anything remotely platonic.

You’d done so well concealing your feelings these past three years, and you couldn’t run the risk of exposing yourself now, or ever. It was hard on your heart to just remain friends, but it was survivable.

So, then… a cookbook, a simple one… yeah, a quick cookbook, perhaps about concealing vegetables in a meal -- that would be a solid, completely platonic gift.

At least, that was the plan.

You watched Ignis move about the kitchen, chatting idly with him as he worked. You began to breathe shallowly, as just the smell of the coffee was already invading your senses and trying to repel you, especially Ignis’ coffee, which was stronger than most.

Maybe you wouldn’t have to worry about the gift after all. Six, wouldn’t that be nice? You could just say that coffee still wasn’t your thing, and then you wouldn’t have to worry about getting that completely platonic gift because he’d have lost the challenge anyways--

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up from your daze to find Ignis staring at you inquisitively, jade eyes warm and showing a hint of concern. You quickly averted your gaze, trying desperately to fight the blush rising to your cheeks. “What is it?”

“You seem…” You could see him gesturing out of the corner of your eye as he tried to find the right words. “A gil for your thoughts?”

You made the mistake of looking back at him, and you were blown away (like you always were) by his sheer beauty. That strong jawline, those full lips, the little bump in the bridge of his nose, his cupid’s bow, the acne scars from your adolescence scattered across his visage, those eyes that were so guarded to almost anyone else yet so open to you--

“I, uh,” you stammered, your brain scrambling for an answer through all the fawning, “Sorry. The smell of coffee doesn’t do me too well.”

Okay, so that wasn’t a total lie. You could stand it, but would avoid it if possible… but it wasn’t too possible with Ignis being the object of your affections, was it? So most times you stayed around the smell just because he carried it so much.

Ignis studied you for a moment more before he heaved a sigh, going to retrieve a small pot from the lower cabinets. “I’ll put on some tea.”

“Ah, I… thanks,” you muttered, cursing your lack of focus today. “And sorry about the coffee.”

Ignis shrugged, fiddling with his glasses. “It’s no issue. That’s just more Ebony for me.”

You nodded slowly, pursing your lips a bit. “Yeah…”

Ignis left the water on the stove to come to a boil and joined you at the island, sliding into the seat next to yours. The two of you conversed comfortably about random things, with pauses in the middle, though never awkward. It wasn’t too long before your tea was done and Ignis’ coffee as well.

He collected the two mugs and placed one in front of you, keeping the other for himself. You thanked him as you watched him move back to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing back the materials he’d previously taken out.

Ignis returned to his seat with little fanfare, pulling his mug closer to him and grabbing his spoon. “Two sugar cubes,” he said, putting one large and one small sugar cube into his beverage, “And three spoonfuls of milk.” He threw that in as well, mixing the coffee until he was satisfied. He brought the mug to his lips, a hum of satisfaction leaving his throat. “And that is how you make the perfect cup of Ebony.”

You tilted your head to the side, a smile tugging at your lips. “The perfect cup, huh? Mind if I have a try?” You placed your own mug back onto the countertop, turning to face him fully. “Maybe it’ll get you that prize after all.”

Ignis chuckled, sliding his mug over. “Have at it, then.”

“Gladly.” If it was the perfect cup, then it had to be good, right? You lifted the cup to your lips and took a sip. Ignis seemed to be holding his breath in anticipation of your reaction, and you hated to disappoint him, but-- “Yeah, sorry Igs.” You pushed the mug back over to him with a wince, taking a large sip of your tea to try and rid your tongue of the still-bitter taste of the coffee. “I guess I’m a tea girl through and through.”

Ignis snapped his fingers in false disappointment, slapping his knee and letting his head hang briefly. “Drat. It’s unfortunate that you have to miss out.”

You laughed. “I suppose so.” Ignis laughed a bit as well before the two of you settled into a relaxed silence.

As you sipped your tea, you allowed your mind to wander a bit. Okay, yeah, coffee still tasted pretty terrible, even when Ignis made it (which is a feat in and of itself, and a testament against coffee, not that you’d ever tell Ignis that much), but he made a valiant effort. That was still deserving of a prize, right? It wasn’t a grand prize, but… a consolation prize, perhaps.

Ignis had already nearly finished his mug of Ebony by the time you spoke up, catching his attention. “I appreciate the thought, even if it didn’t go as planned, so for that… a consolation prize is in order.”

Oh dear… you were thinking a bit more with your heart than your brain. Three years, you tried to remind yourself, three years and counting, is this one moment really worth the possible destruction of your friendship?

Ignis quirked a brow, idly tapping the side of his mug with a gloved fingertip. “A consolation prize? I’m flattered.”

You giggled, taking another sip from your tea. “As you should be.” And in that small amount of time between one sentence and the next, you had a mental battle with yourself -- would you just take the chance, take the leap, see how Ignis would react and put everything at stake? Or would you just sit back and buy that cookbook like you had planned, letting those feelings remain under a careful lock and key? You weighed the costs against the benefits and quickly reached a conclusion, even if it may have been a regrettable one.

The heart wants what the heart wants, and this one moment was all that you desired.

“Okay, trust me on this one. Close your eyes.” You said, scooting forward in your seat a little bit. Ignis did as told, and suddenly you were thankful for your distinct lack of nerves. Three years of holding it in be damned. You were so tired of holding back. The floodgates were open already, you just had to let yourself get swept into the current… so you did.

You leaned forward and pressed a single, lasting kiss against Ignis’ cheek.

Your nerves hit you full force the moment you’d pulled away, and you couldn’t hide the way your face heated. Ignis had gone red too, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up, not just yet--

“(Y/N)?” He asked, his voice small.

“Y-yeah?” you replied shakily, having failed to keep your nerves out of your throat. Six, you felt like you were in high school again, all jittery feelings and stammered words.

He opened his eyes, staring at you, studying you. “You… I…”

You stared right back, no matter how much you wanted to look away from his intense gaze. It was now or never at this point. You took a deep breath through your nose, then set your shoulders and came out with it. “Ignis, I -- I’m in love with you. Have been for a while now.”

He remained silent just long enough to make you even more nervous, then relaxed and slouched forward. “Six, (Y/N),” he muttered, and then he was standing so close to you, his hands cupping your face and his body heat rolling off of him in waves and his cologne absolutely clogging the air in the loveliest way. “May I?”

“Please.”

And with how intense those green orbs of his were, you’d expected the following kiss to be a bit on the rough side, yet it was anything but. Ignis’ lips were so soft and so gentle, moving against yours unsurely, as if he still wasn’t completely convinced this was happening. He pulled away just barely, your breath still mingling. “Pardon me, I-I’ve never really--”

“Neither have I,” you cut him off, reaching a hand up and tangling it in his hair, the other coming to cup his face as he did yours. “Less talking.” And you pulled him to you again, the kiss just as gentle and soft as the previous, slow and chaste as the two of you just felt each other, getting acquaintanced with one another.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other’s embrace, but it was the most heavenly time of your life, and you were almost convinced it was a dream until you finally got a taste of the coffee on Ignis’ lips.

You pulled away, shaking your head and sticking your tongue out. “Even a kiss can’t make coffee taste better. I’m a lost cause, Ignis.”

He simply looked at you for a moment, and then that radiant, joyous smile spread across his face and he pulled you close, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “It would seem so.”

Gladio charged forward, Ignis dropping down and scuttling away easily.

"You can’t even hit the broad side of a barn, you hulking garulessa!” Ignis mocked in return.

“At least I can make it with the ladies,” the brunette fired back, a wolfish grin on his scarred face.  "The only way you’d get laid is if you crawled up a chocobo’s ass and waited.“ Above, Noct and Prompto howled.

"Come now, Gladio,” Ignis drawled, dismissing his weapons as he and the Shield made the walk back to camp.  "We both know that simply isn’t true.“

The two bickered amiably up until dinner time, during which Ignis announced, "I’ve lost my potatoes.  I do hope they’ll turnip.”

Groans abound.  Chortles.

“Y'know,” Gladio piped up as Ignis served the completed meal, glancing at Prompto.  "I heard photographers make great botanists because they know photo synthesis.“

"Dude,” Prompto burst out, cackling.  "You guys are too much.“

"I honestly have no idea why they chose any of you to be a part of my retinue,” Noct mock complained, failing to hide an amused smile in his food.  "Unless you count knocking the enemies dead with the power of your trash puns.“

"But you’re the one who Nocts them out!” Prompto wheezed in response, laughter overtaking him.

When the Regalia finished the next day, the quartet decided to visit Takka, who had yet another ingredient errand for them to run.  To Noct’s distaste, he required a shipment of beans.  As an avid bean-hater, the prince was loath to accept the hunt.  

“Beeeaaaaannnnns,” he complained, grimacing.

“Hey Noct,” Gladio yelled from the other side of the diner.  "How does a man take a bubble bath?“

The remainder of the group turned with inquisitive eyes to the Shield, awaiting the punchline.

"He eats beans for dinner!” He announced, a loud guffaw passing his lips as soon as the line was delivered.  Noct snorted in laughter as well, Prompto quickly joining in.  Ignis hid his laughter behind a gloved hand, desperately seeking to retain his hold on his professional demeanor.

“Gladio, that’s hardly appropriate,” he chided, hoping the Astrals would keep all evidence of laughter from his voice.

“What’s hardly appropriate is the way Prompto’s staring at Cindy,” Noct laughed, slapping his best friend on the back on the way out of the diner.  "Go on, go say something!“

A bright flush violently overtook the young boy’s pale face, drowning out his freckles.  "N-no, I couldn’t do that.  Not to my grease monkey goddess…”

Coming out of the diner, Gladio blasted a laugh and also smacked Prompto on the back, sending him stumbling forward several paces, arms wind-milling.  "You just need practice!  There, look!  See that chick over there?“

Several eyes trained on the position he indicated, a woman browsing the general store’s supplies.  Pretty, if a little plain, alone.

"Go on, give it your best shot,” Gladio encouraged, pushing Prompto in her direction.  "Let’s see what you’re made of.“

Of course Noct supported the ridiculous idea as well, ocean eyes spirited with mischief.  Heaving a defeated sigh, Prompto put on his game face and approached the woman…

…only for her to snort in disgust as he approached, turning away.

"MAN DOWN!” Gladio cried.

Beside him, Noct tilted his head back, laughing until tears burned his eyes.

“Well, let’s see you do better!” Prompto wailed in defense, embarrassed.   Noct pointed to Gladio.  "I’m not doing it.  Have at it, Gladio.“

"Indeed,” Ignis finally spoke up, eyes igneous in challenge.  "I’ve yet to see this legendary ability to ‘land women,’ Gladio.“

The Shield never failed to take bait from the adviser, a cocky smirk splitting his face as he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.  "Alright.  Watch and learn.”

The behemoth of a man sauntered up to the woman.  Noting that she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, he opened conversation.

“You know, your body is made up of seventy percent water.  Suddenly I’m thirsty as hell,” he said, flashing perfect white teeth in a wicked smile.

She was nonplussed, reaching for a magazine to hide her face.  "Bottled water is over in the coolers, I think.“

Chuckling, Gladio shrugged, not one to be easily deterred.  "Miss, if you were the words on that page, you’d be what they call fine print.  You feel me?”

Another snort, and the woman turned her back.  "No thank you.“

Stunned, Gladio returned to the laughing group.  

"Wow, I learned so much,” Prompto gasped between giggles.  "Great work, buddy!“

"Yeah, knucklehead,” Noct agreed.  "What a ladykiller.“

They looked to Ignis, who had remained silent.  His arms were crossed at his chest, a devilish smirk plastered on his face.

"Watch a true master at work, boys,” he announced.

They didn’t expect much, honestly.  When Ignis approached, he didn’t smile, didn’t get in the woman’s face, simply pursed his lips and cocked his head in confusion before gently seeking her attention.

“Excuse me, miss?” he asked, emerald eyes wide, innocent. “Yes?” she answered, disarmed.

“I find I need a woman’s advice on a matter, if you could spare a moment of your time?”  A charming smile accompanied his second query.

“Oh, sure!” She chirped happily.  "What’s up?“

"There’s a woman,” he began, pausing for effect to sigh dreamily, “a singularly beautiful woman and I’m simply not sure if I should talk to her.  She’s the most divine creature I’ve seen.  What do you suggest I do?”

A pretty blush rose on her cheeks as she subtly fanned herself with the magazine she was holding.  "Well, you should introduce yourself!“

"Mmm,” Ignis hummed deep in his chest.  "Are you quite sure?“

"Definitely!”

Ignis sat in mock contemplation for another moment before he raised smoldering eyes to hers, extending a hand in greeting.

“Well, I suppose in that case, my name is Ignis Scientia,” he breathed.  "Nice to meet you.“