fieryknowledge | (no subject)

Ten years.

It'd been ten long years. Ten years in the dark, fighting back to keep their world safe. Countries had long since ceased to matter in the Long Night. They'd all changed in those years, but none as much as the man that had finally returned. The King that had finally returned.

When Ignis heard the news, he couldn't believe it. Oh, there was never any doubt that his liege would return, but it'd been so long. So long since he'd seen that precious face. The determination in his voice as he called on the Crystal and the kings of old was something that Ignis could still recall with perfect clarity even if he couldn't quite remember what he looked like in that moment. Right then, he'd been ready to die, all to keep Noctis from the fate that he'd been shown. He could still remember the raw pain in Gladio's voice and the tears in Prompto's. That was when he knew that he couldn't leave his brothers.

He couldn't leave him.

Seeing Noctis again had been a bit of a shock. He was a man grown now and the first thing Ignis found himself thinking was just how stunning his eyes were, closely followed by the simple fact that Noctis needed a shave. Instead of letting his mind linger on either of those, he simply welcomed him back, a small smile gracing his still scarred lips.

Things happened quickly then. A plan was made now that they knew their target and had the means to fight him. It was like old times, that night. A roaring fire and a carefully prepared meal. Conversation around the fire, met with small smiles and vaguely hollow eyes to catch the flickering light and each word out of Noctis' mouth made Ignis' chest ache. He knew what the next day would bring. He'd seen it in his nightmares for years now, but he'd never shared that vision with anyone. He couldn't bear to do so. Not when it would break their hearts just like it'd broken his.

When dinner was a pleasant memory, Gladio caught Ignis' gaze, shooting him a half-smile as he canted his head toward their oldest friend before he stood up and excused himself with a half-hearted claim that he was tired, only to end up dragging Prompto along with him. Ignis watched them duck into the tent with a soft chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Well, it seems like it's just the two of us now."

Threaded | Flat

Ten years.

They had told him more than once, now, it truly was ten years, but nothing in his mind could agree with that possibility. Nothing he had gone through, the time he had spent, the things he had done, added up to ten years of time having passed, ten years of his life having been stolen from him as he floated endlessly, replaying things again and again in his mind, until he had come to an understanding within himself. An acceptance of what must be done. The Chosen King would do it for the people he loved and the sacrifices that had been made.

But he looked at each of them and saw the age written across their faces. The mirror in the bathroom, when he had his first private moment, had let him stare into an unfamiliar face. To touch a stranger's face with his eyes, slowly, before returning to his friends and making no mention of it at all. They didn't need to deal with his shock.

And so the night passed, one final night with the stars brilliant over head, the crackle of the fire familiar as breathing, the memory of this same sort of night repeated in his head again and again and again. At Ignis' words, the corner of his mouth lifted, amused. "Just us, now." His head turned enough to glance in the direction the other two had gone. "Seems like there's more I missed than just the expected. When did those two...?"

It didn't take a genius to catch the connection between Gladio and Prompto, but if they weren't going to bring it up, he would.