Chapter Text
Ignis
Insomnia Falls
It hits him like a tidal wave, over and over as if reading it five more times will change the words in print. Only a few moments pass before he is still, but damage lurks beneath the calm waters, trapped bodies and debris. His hand is moving without his permission, reaching into a pocket for his phone.
It’s the same everywhere else. Insomnia is gone. The King is dead.
Ignis doesn’t even register the time at first. 8:45am, he’s already been sitting here for twenty minutes. A hand he can’t control reaches forward, picking up a mug and pulling cold coffee to his lips. Perhaps convincing himself that by clawing back into routine, he’ll return from this cold desolate water back to shore.
He looks up, catching strangers crowding around the paper across the deck, close enough to hear but their words bounce off him like rain on a windshield. When he looks back at his own newspaper, he doesn’t look back up for a long time.
His mind wanders to Noctis, an instinctive worry that takes the forefront of his mind. Ignis reels himself back, listing off the things he knows to be true in this moment. They are in Galdin Quay, waiting for a ship they believe to be picking them up soon on the word of Dino, a member of the press. They intend to sail to Altissia for Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum - now King Noctis Lucis Caelum - to wed the Oracle, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. All of this under the guise of a supposed peace treaty, which has now been rendered null and void via the attack by The Empire of Niflheim on the Crown City, Insomnia. Which is now in ruin, leaving King Regis Lucis Caelum dead.
Ignis repeats this three more times in his head until gravity returns his stomach from his lungs.
9:15am.
More time has passed than he thought. Noctis should be waking up soon, he has some time before he’s showered and ready for the day, though Ignis imagines Prompto and Gladiolus have noted his absence by now. He can only feel lucky neither of them has gone looking for him, or seen the news and called him in a panic.
Ignis has always been the one to have difficult conversations with Noctis, but this has crossed into the territory of impossible. No, not impossible, he should have more faith in the prince- the King, than that. This isn’t any different than before, he imagines it won’t be the last time, that much more difficult things are to come.
He spends the next fifteen minutes sipping on his stale coffee between controlled breaths. Almost perfectly at 9:30am, he gets a text.
Gladiolus Amicitia:
Where are you?
Ignis stares at the text for five minutes before he gives an answer.
Ignis Scientia:
Waiting for a coffee. I’ll be back shortly.
Is Noctis awake?
He stares at the three dots at the bottom of the screen, indicating that Gladiolus is typing.
Gladiolus Amicitia:
In the shower right now, I’ll let him know to get a move on.
This time Ignis texts back immediately.
Ignis Scientia:
Don’t bother, let him take his time.
Gladiolus Amicitia:
Haven’t you been on his ass about not being up early enough? What happened to not babying him anymore?
Ignis doesn’t respond.
9:41am.
The debris isn’t gone, only settled. The bodies have floated to the surface. But at least the water is clear.
*
He’s unsure whether or not to count this as a good start. The moment he enters the room, all three of them turn to look. The silence in the room runs a quiet panic through his veins, and he finds his gaze locked on Noctis, wondering if he’d already seen. Ignis is able to quickly deduce that he hasn’t, but realizes his own lack of reaction has caused discomfort in the others.
“What’s that look for?”
Another moment of uncomfortable silence passes as Ignis hands the article over to Gladio.
“It’s in all the papers.”
“What is?”
Ignis is watching Noctis, who is staring Prompto and Gladiolus down with an expression Ignis wishes he could have avoided. Perhaps he should have ripped off the bandaid quicker, but he doesn’t have the time to second guess himself.
“Insomnia…falls?”
“This your idea of a joke?”
Ignis jumps at the display of distress, doesn’t give it a moment to breathe. “I need you to calm down so I can explain.”
Noctis begins an approach immediately, Ignis only has a few moments to get a read, to process through Noctis’ upset masked by anger.
“I’m as calm as I’m gonna get.”
Ignis won’t let himself have an emotional reaction. He never does, he hasn’t since he was a child.
“There was an attack. The Imperial army has taken the Crown City.”
When Gladiolus begins reading an excerpt from the article, Ignis lowers his head. Noctis is trying to work it out, Ignis doesn’t need to look at him to see the gears turning in his head.
“We had no way of knowing.”
“What? Knowing what?”
“That the signing was last night, that Insomnia-”
Ignis is trying his best to assure, he knows Noctis will feel responsible. He’s not the only one.
“But the wedding- Altissia-”
“I know, that was the plan. Yet the reports of the invasion are all the same. How could every headline in the kingdom be wrong?”
“...Lies.”
Ignis has already worked this all out in his head, worked it out within less than two hours time. He imagines it’ll take Noctis longer. To his surprise, it’s Prompto who speaks out next, giving a weak “if only” that Ignis had not expected. A rejection of the news, the proclamation of its falsehood was a normal reaction. Prompto knows better, he knows it immediately.
“What else do we know?” Gladiolus turns to Ignis, lowering the paper from his eyes. Ignis can only muster a small shake of the head. “Then we can’t be sure until we see it with our own eyes.”
“And that means we go back to Insomnia.”
“Might not be safe for us there.”
“Might not be safe for us here.”
Ignis can hardly argue with that, and in this moment admits to himself that Prompto is right, though he’s not sure if it’s for the reason Prompto intended. Seeing it for themselves will allow better acceptance.
“Turn back?”
The room falls quiet, heads slowly turning to Noctis. Ignis watches him weigh the options in his head, knowing every decision after this point will only grow heavier.
“Yeah.”
*
The drive back to Insomnia is a somber one, quiet moments of reflection broken up by outbursts from Noctis. Proclamations of a grief that haven’t quite settled, not until Noctis knows more, not until he knows for sure. Ignis is doing his best to soothe, to keep heads on straight. Gladiolus is helpful when it comes to quelling some of Noctis’ more nihilistic claims, and Ignis is thankful he’s not alone in the endeavor of regulating the King. For what it’s worth, Ignis thinks Noctis is managing rather well considering the news. But Ignis learned a long time ago that proximity to the crown meant a separation of emotions when duty came calling. It wasn’t something he felt like Noctis needed to be reminded of…perhaps only gently nudged. Though at the end of the day it mattered less what Noctis said about the situation, and more about what he did. Words from a King ring hollow, actions are what people remember.
*
As to ceasefire discussions between the two nations, all provisional terms have been suspended in light of recent developments. Moreover, in the wake of the news of King Regis’ death, we’ve now received word that Crown Prince Noctis and the Oracle Lunafreya have also been pronounced dead.
Noctis doesn’t speak most of the way back. Confirmation from the Marshal of his father’s death sets Noctis into a silence that’s louder than any of his words. The rest of them talk idly about their future plans, but for now, all they know is they must return to Hammerhead.
The conversation they have with Cid doesn’t help much, but Ignis is glad to have even a sliver more of information, though he isn’t sure Noctis feels the same. Ignis can tell just by watching him how restless he is, by how he barely touches his food that night. Though in all fairness, none of them really do.
That night they set up in the RV outside of Hammerhead. Gladiolus and Prompto split to take the larger bed at one end of the camper, Ignis and Noctis on the other. Their usual setup since they’ve been on the road, but before this point it’d been quite some years before they shared a bed, not since they were children. Both of them found it easy to fall back into this practice, even with how different it was now. He remembers it clearly, how excited they’d be when allowed to spend the night with one another, giggling and whispering into the early morning hours when they should have been sleeping. It was quieter now, Ignis would fall asleep early to the faded blue light of Noctis’ phone and wake just before the sun rose. But not tonight, Noctis said he’d be in later, wanting to clear his head.
Ignis couldn’t sleep. Not before he knew Noctis was safe. Of course everyone in the country thinks he’s dead, but that doesn’t stop the worry from rapping against the window, a noise in the background he can’t make go away. He waits, and he waits until that same restlessness sinks its claws into him, pulling him out of the bed and towards the door. No glasses, no shoes, slightly panicked steps.
Luckily Noctis isn’t far, sitting in one of the plastic white chairs outside of the camper and staring out into an empty, dark parking lot. Ignis is still, just observing. Noctis didn’t even move when he heard the door open, and Ignis is trying to piece together what that means.
“You should get some rest.” Is all Ignis can manage, but despite how he encourages Noctis to turn in for the night, contradicts himself when he pulls up a chair beside him.
“I’m not tired.”
Ignis doesn’t respond, but doesn’t move either. He’ll leave, if Noctis asks him to, even if he won’t sleep, but otherwise only joins him in presence. Tries to quietly make it known that he is available if there is anything Noctis wants to say. They sit there for long enough that Ignis suspects he won’t say anything at all, but just as he resigns to this, Noctis breaks the silence.
“I want to go back. To Insomnia.”
Ignis bites his tongue, resisting the urge to tell him No, you don’t. It won’t help. So instead he opts for something more neutral, gives Noctis a space to just talk.
“Why?”
“There’s still people in the city.”
“We already know people are fleeing the city, refugees are finding passage-”
“We don’t know to what extent- Iris is the daughter of the Shield of the King, anyone fleeing in any proximity to her is going to have protection out of the city. I should be helping.”
“It’d be too much of a risk, Noct. You’re not just the Prince anymore, you’re the-”
“King? Exactly. Their last one left them to die.” Noctis practically spits, gaze stuck into pavement below him like he might burn a hole in it. Ignis goes silent for a moment, just watching Noctis. Then he moves his chair forward, leaning over with his elbows on his knees.
“...I can’t pretend to know your father’s intentions, I won’t justify his actions. But you’re not helping anyone if you’re dead. There’s a way to do this smart, but we don’t have all the information we need.”
Ignis pauses, waiting for some sort of retort, but there is nothing. Noctis has looked away from the ground, glancing at Ignis without moving his head. A good sign, Ignis has ripped him from the fire at least. So he continues.
“...we know Niflheim isn’t after territory, they aren’t looking to conquer or occupy. They want the ring, they want the crystal. That’s not to say refugees won’t be in danger exiting the city, but we can speak to Cor and ensure what people the crown still has are allocated towards helping them find safety. That leaves us in a better position to deal with the larger threat.”
“And how do you suppose we’ll do that? We don’t have an army to fight back with anymore.”
“...we cut off the head of the snake. It won’t be easy, and I’m not sure how yet, but it’s our best bet. Both to render the magitek infantry no longer a threat, and stop whatever it is Niflheim is attempting.”
It’s all Ignis can offer. He’s not as well versed in matters of emotional turmoil, he’s not a man fit to inspire the King in a call to action. But he can give him something tangible, something to focus on.
“I’m sure the Marshal will have more information for us, after that…we’ll move on, inquire quietly about the location of Lady Lunafreya.”
“She’s dead, remember?”
“So are you, technically. We know they made up that lie, and the Marshal only confirmed the death of King Regis. We have no evidence to prove such a claim.”
“The difference is they didn’t know where I was. They’ve had her in their custody, they could get rid of her at any time.” Noctis scoffs.
“It could very well be a ploy to lower the morale of the common people. If I were them, she's exactly the bait I would use to lure you out. They know you aren’t dead, they know you’ll search for her. Without her they have no leads on finding you. Now I can’t promise this to be true, but it’s our best bet. After we speak to the Marshal, we’ll reevaluate plans based on what new information we gather.”
“How do you know they’ll look for me?”
“Because you’re the only one who can stop them.”
They both fall into a brief silence, Ignis lingering in a tension that is broken by Noctis standing from his seat.
“...I’m not sure if I believe that. But I trust you.”
Ignis only hopes that Noctis hasn’t made a mistake in doing so.