#raidelle

From the outside, the Tidemother’s temple appeared fairly modest, its circular exterior composed of slate grey stone. On the inside, however…

“Rather stunning, isn’t it?” Ignis asks.

“Yeah… yeah, you could say that.”

As soon as Gladio enters the temple, Ignis at his side, his ears are filled with the sound of rushing water.  Now that he’s past the wide, wooden doors, he can see the semi-circular fountain spilling from the balustrade, a continuous waterfall with no discernable source.  A balcony rests behind the source of the water, priests and priestesses roaming the hallways in their deep blue robes.

“Follow me,” Ignis says, beckoning Gladio with elegant fingers, and Gladio happily follows.

The narrow aisle that serves as the entry to the temple gradually widens into the temple proper, but Ignis doesn’t continue into the open space.  Instead, he diverts to the left, where a wide, shallow basin of crystal clear water resides.

“It’s customary to perform ablutions before entering the Tidemother’s temple,” Ignis explains, pupilless emerald eyes swirling in the soft light of the space.  “It’s also tradition for someone else to perform the ablutions for you,” he adds, a slight blush colouring sharp cheekbones and pale cheeks. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Sure,” Gladio says.

Ignis dips one curved palm into the basin of water, a shallow pool gathered in his hands.  When he lifts his hand up, Gladio bends down, instinctually meeting Ignis halfway.  Ignis pours the modest amount of water over his head, and then trails three fingers down Gladio’s face from forehead to lips, the tips of them slippery and wet.  The water is pleasantly warm, and though Gladio wonders how practical this ritual is in Lucis’ winter, he appreciates the gesture.

“Would you be so kind as to repeat the ablutions for me?”

Gladio’s heart beats one furious beat before settling. “Of course.”

He repeats the gesture for Ignis, cupping his hand in the basin and gently tipping the contents of his hand over Ignis’ head, running his fingers gently down Ignis’ face.  If Ignis minds the way the water flattens his hair or soaks through the thin, stretched fabric of his shirt, he doesn’t say anything.

“Didn’t figure you for the religious type,” Gladio ventures.  He’s spent long enough around Ignis to feel comfortable broaching the subject.

“I’m not, generally. However…” Ignis takes off his glasses and cleans them on a dry sleeve before returning them to his face. “The Tidemother’s blessing reflects absolution, a literal and figurative washing away of your ill deeds and sorrows.  I find personal satisfaction in the ritual.”

As curious as Gladio is about what Ignis could have done that needs washing away, he decides not to pry, figuring Ignis will tell him more when the time is right. “Makes sense.” Gladio gestures to the temple at large. “Lead the way.”

But he was trying.  There was no point thinking about the past, wishing he could turn back time and change the way things had turned out.  This was his life now, and he owed it to Noct to make the most of it.  He owed it to him to be happy.  

So he’d made the decision to come here, just as he’d promised himself all those years ago.  Back then he’d been awed by the softness of the sand underneath his feet, by the way the shore faded out into a vivid liquid gold, by the flaring hues of the evening sun as it melted gradually into the ocean, turquoise becoming apricot as the last rays of light slowly shimmered and vanished.  He’d wanted to stay longer, to explore and take photos to his heart’s content.  But they’d had more important things to do then, and then things had changed, and then the memories of Noct had made him want to hide away from everywhere they’d ever visited together.  It had been too painful to even think of visiting alone, the space beside him which should have been filled with his best friend’s laughter vacant and silent.  

He was glad he’d eventually plucked up the courage to ask Ignis to come with him, and was even more glad at how quickly and enthusiastically he’d agreed.  He wasn’t sure he would have been able to cope here without him.  For the first few days, every little thing had reminded him of Noct, the memories he’d tried to suppress for so long playing on repeat like an old video tape, rediscovered after many years of being lost at the back of a drawer.  If he’d been on his own, he would have packed up and left, returning to the safety of Insomnia where he could bury himself in his work and forget Noct ever existed.  But Ignis was here, a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on when things got unbearable.  Whenever he’d thought he might finally break down and not be able to get back up again, Ignis was by his side, stroking his hair and whispering soothingly in his ear until he felt strong enough to continue.  And, after a while, the numbness faded into something else.  Not happiness exactly, but something close.  A weight had been lifted, like colour was finally seeping back into a world that had become so dull and dreary he’d forgotten what it felt like to smile.

They sat close to the lapping waves, Prompto’s legs curled underneath him, his feet dusted with so much golden sand it was hard to tell where his freckles stopped and the sand began.  It was early, the only marker of time the position of the sun in the sky, peeking just above the horizon, and he shivered against the breeze of the cool, morning air as it drifted in from the ocean.  Somehow, and Prompto could never quite work out how he managed to be so perceptive even without his vision, Ignis detected the slight shudder and moved closer to him so their legs were touching, the heat from his body almost enough to stop the spread of goosebumps as they spread up Prompto’s bare arms and across his shoulders.  

“Cold?”  Ignis looked over at him, his lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as he awaited Prompto’s response.

“A little,” Prompto replied, brushing his hair back from his face and rubbing at his arms vigorously to warm them.  “Should have known better to think it’d be warm enough to come out without a jacket this early in the morning.”  

“Indeed…” Ignis smirked and Prompto chuckled softly between shivers.  It had been a while since he’d feel good enough to laugh and it sounded strange and unfamiliar, and for a moment he thought it must have come from somewhere else- anywhere other than his own lips.

“It’s good to hear you laugh again, Prompto.”  Ignis pulled himself across the sand to wrap one arm around Prompto’s back, his sand-covered palm rough against the tender, slightly sunburnt skin of his shoulder.  “I must say, I’ve been rather worried about you for a while now.”

“Sorry, Iggy.”  Prompto hesitated before resting his head on Ignis chest, tucking it just underneath his chin.  “I… uh… It’s been tough.”  

“I know…”

Ignis reached up to stroke his hair, running his hands through it softly as he eased out some of the knots, a result of the combination of sea, sand and wind, brushing it tenderly back from his face.  His hair was shorter now than it had been and peppered with strands of grey, which blended with the blonde so it became almost white in places.  Some days he felt like he looked much older than his 37 years, the dark circles underneath his eyes making him look constantly unwell.  He knew he’d lost weight- though he hadn’t made a conscious effort to do so- and a lot of the muscle he’d worked so hard to gain had disappeared.  The way Gladio looked at him sometimes, the concern in his eyes evident no matter how much he tried to hide it- was enough to tell him people were worried about him.  But this trip was helping, and he’d already noticed how much healthier he looked.  His eyes were less swollen- the sea air was doing wonders for his sleep- and the red rims he tried so hard to get rid of were already far less noticeable.  The sun was having a positive effect too and his skin had begun to tan again, his freckles returning with a vengeance as they danced across his nose and cheeks, dusting his shoulders in the same way they had when he was younger.  

Ignis, on the other hand, had aged spectacularly well.  His hair, too, had become grey- but it suited him and, strangely, hadn’t seemed to age him at all.  His skin was still as smooth as it had always been, and glowed now more than ever against the early morning sunlight.  Prompto pressed his face more firmly against Ignis’ chest and sighed deeply, closing his eyes and relaxing into his touch.  It felt good to be touched so tenderly again, even if he’d never expected Ignis to be the one touching him in such a way.  

“Thanks for being here,” he mumbled, lifting up his head and dragging himself into a seated position, his toes comfortingly covered by the now-warm sand.  He placed his hand on Ignis’ thigh and squeezed gently, hoping the motion conveyed how grateful he was.

He was surprised when Ignis placed his palm on top of his, lacing their fingers together tightly, ignoring the grains of sand which snuck their way in between their hands.  “I know I can’t ever be him, my dear Prompto- and I would never try to take his place- but I will always be here for you.  I hope I’ve made it clear how much you mean to me.  How much I care about you.”  

“You mean a lot to me too, Iggy.  You really do.”  Prompto felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to push them back down.  He turned his hand over and gripped Ignis’ more tightly, his fingers running over rough knuckles in soft, delicate movements.  He’d tried to deny his feelings for so long, guilt always lingering somewhere at the back of his mind.  He couldn’t help but think that beginning another relationship, even thinking these things about someone other than Noct, was some sort of betrayal.  But knowing that Ignis felt the same, that he cared for him- maybe even loved him- was the push he needed.  Noct was dead.  He wasn’t coming back.  And there was no way he would want him to be alone forever.  He cleared his throat, running his other hand distractedly through the sand as he thought about what to say.  “I can’t… I mean, I want this too… It’s just… I’m not sure I can put it into words right now but…”

“Hush my darling.”  Ignis cut him off, his hand tracing a line softly down the side of his face and over his ear before pausing to cup his chin, tilting his head up so he was forced to look at him.  “You don’t need to say anything.  There’s no rush.  I’m not going anywhere.”  He pressed his lips to the top of Prompto’s head, placing a soft but firm kiss among the soft bristles.  

“Thank you,” he breathed, resting his head against Ignis’ shoulder.  He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared across at the horizon, sighing deeply as he took in- for the first time that morning- the changing colours that spread like watercolours across the sea and sky, slightly hazy and dusty as though he was looking through a smudged window.  “I wish you could see this, Iggy.  It’s so beautiful.”

“So help me see it.  Describe it to me.”

“Uh… Okay… So…”  Prompto sat up a little straighter and stared ahead.  “It’s… the sun’s just rising above the horizon.  The clouds are kind of pink now and it’s reflected in the water so…”

“No,” Ignis murmured softly, taking Prompto’s hand again and clasping it in his own.  “More than that.  Look closely.  I want to really imagine it, to really see what you see.  Tell me everything, every little detail.  Be my eyes, my dear Prompto.”

Prompto paused and took a deep breath.  “It’s perfect, Iggy.  The sky… it’s like… like a sea of cotton candy.  It’s kind of cloudy today, but they look soft and fluffy, like you could just reach out and run your hands through them, like the feather’s in a chocobo’s tail.  And the sun’s like a flower, each petal a different colour, opening up and spreading across the sky one at a time.”  He shot a glance at Ignis, who had his head tilted back so he faced the sky, his eyes closed and an expression of peacefulness etched across his face.  He was smiling, his cheeks flushed pink as he recalled his own memories.  “Closest to the sun, it’s like the sky is blushing- the same pink Noct’s cheeks used to go when he was embarrassed.  But further out, it’s more orange, like those tangerines you found in Lestallum market that time- the really sweet ones, you remember?”  Ignis nodded, the movement of his head so small that, had Prompto not been looking for it, he would have missed it entirely.  “It’s misty too- it’s like a layer of silver spider web covering the surface of the sea, but it’s sparkling as it catches the sunlight, as though it’s covered in ice or snow.  And all the colours are reflected in the water, but it’s like someone’s spread paint on a piece of paper and then poured water over it so it all merges together- so the colours are all there but you kind of can’t tell them apart.  The light keeps dancing across the waves too, like there are diamonds just underneath the surface that rise above it when a wave comes…”

“It sounds wonderful.”  Ignis sighed, his eyes still closed behind his dark lenses.

“It is.”  Prompto bit his bottom lip, reaching up to run his hand over the outer edge of Ignis’ scar, rough and raised against the soft skin around it.  “I just wish… I wish you could experience it too.”

“I feel sure I was able to experience just as much as you.  Your descriptions… you see so much beauty in things, so many details I’m not sure anybody else would even notice.  You helped me experience more than I would have been able to see with my own eyes- and I thank you for that.”  Ignis smiled again before reaching up to pull Prompto’s hand away from where it still lingered on his cheek, dropping a quick kiss in the centre of his palm before placing it back down into the sand.  “Thank you for helping me see again…”

“You’re welcome, Iggy,” Prompto smiled, leaning forwards and letting his lips brush against the corner of Ignis’ mouth.  

“Should be a couple more we haven’t found yet.” Gladio angles his body towards Ignis, clad only in a tanktop and shorts to combat the humid summer air, the black lines of his tattoo blending into the darkness of the night. “Could make the last one a tiebreaker.”

The way he leans close to Ignis, his mouth a palm’s distance away from Ignis’s own, has his thoughts drifting to other, less wholesome activities. However, at the same time…

Winning would be rather nice.

“Deal,” Ignis agrees with a smirk, and then he’s combing the heavens for the means to secure his victory.

It takes only a handful of minutes for him to locate one of the final constellations, sitting bolt upright in his excitement, but as he shouts the name, Gladio speaks as well.

“Gentiana!”

“Shiva!”

Ignis locks eyes with Gladio, pulse quickening, and purses his lips. “Gentiana?” He glances up once and returns his attention to Gladio. “Perhaps you need to consider glasses too. That’s clearly the Glacian.”

Gladio laughs, the sound deep and rich. “Nah. I’m sure. Shiva wouldn’t be visible this time of year, but the Messenger constellations are.”  At Ignis’s stark look of disbelief, he grins widens and gestures to Ignis’s slacks. “You brought your phone, right? See for yourself.”

Determined to win, Ignis pulls his phone out and searches the internet with several rapid, focused taps of his fingers.  When he finds the confirmation he’s looking for, he reads the information twice… and then begins to laugh too.

“What’s so funny?” Gladio demands, scooting closer and resting his head on Ignis’s shoulder.

“It appears neither of us are technically correct,” Ignis explains, angling the screen towards Gladio so he can read for himself. “It’s not Shiva… but it’s not Gentiana, either. Apparently the Gentiana constellation was renamed to ‘The Oracle Messenger’ late last year.”

“What? Bullshit,” Gladio declares with a snort, taking the phone from Ignis and scrolling through the website.  He manages to only appear slightly crestfallen as he returns the phone to Ignis. “Huh. Well… ain’t gonna argue with the Lucian Society of Astronomy’s website, I guess.”

The way Gladio’s lower lip juts out in a pout gives Ignis a host of other ideas. “May I suggest a different way to break the tie?”

“Sure, Iggy,” Gladio says amiably, one broad palm coming to rest on Ignis’s thigh. “What’d you have in mind?”

Ignis threads his fingers through Gladio’s hair and gently pulls him close, until their lips are almost touching. He suddenly doesn’t care overmuch about victory in their impromptu competition, finding himself far more fascinated with the way starlight glitters in the wide amber pools of Gladio’s eyes.