![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fieryknowledgeAt fourteen, Ignis discovered just how much he'd grown to care about his closest friend. That was disastrous.
At sixteen, Ignis discovered his closest friend felt much the same way. That was terrifying.
At eighteen, they tried to make it work. That was difficult but so very worth it.
At twenty, Ignis decided he would pop the question once their beloved prince was safe and sound on his throne.
That part took a lot longer of a road than any of them expected-
They'd endured, though. The fall of their home and the long road they traveled. The death of the Oracle and Ignis' disappearance to Zegnautus Keep in the company of a monster. The power of the Lucii burning through his veins and skin. Ten long years in the dark, always waiting. Always hoping.
The New Dawn. The end of the Long Night.
Really, it all sounded so dreadfully romantic at times even if it'd been a nightmare to live it. It sounded like the stuff of the grandest of tales and if Ignis was a younger man, it might be a story he'd be chomping at the bits to read. Instead, he'd lived it and come out a bit marred and jaded. Even more so now, as he sat among his fellow Councilors ironing out details about the revitalization of what was once Insomnia.
Once he'd had a taste of the road and the desperate freedom running for you life could bring, he'd learned to hate meetings. They were trite and boring and the arguing was pointless. A quick glance up at their King and he could tell that Noctis felt the same way. After all, he'd been reading his little expressions for decades now.
Another heated argument broke out, a debate over the size of streets and Ignis felt his ire rising. Slim lips shifted, inching down into a faint frown, but to anyone that knew him, it was a clear sign that he was close to stepping into the vocal fray and pity the fools that went against him when he did. A quick glance to Gladio, standing watch over Noctis, ever a presence at his right hand.
It was as much warning as it was plea.
End this or else I will. Please.
At sixteen, Ignis discovered his closest friend felt much the same way. That was terrifying.
At eighteen, they tried to make it work. That was difficult but so very worth it.
At twenty, Ignis decided he would pop the question once their beloved prince was safe and sound on his throne.
That part took a lot longer of a road than any of them expected-
They'd endured, though. The fall of their home and the long road they traveled. The death of the Oracle and Ignis' disappearance to Zegnautus Keep in the company of a monster. The power of the Lucii burning through his veins and skin. Ten long years in the dark, always waiting. Always hoping.
The New Dawn. The end of the Long Night.
Really, it all sounded so dreadfully romantic at times even if it'd been a nightmare to live it. It sounded like the stuff of the grandest of tales and if Ignis was a younger man, it might be a story he'd be chomping at the bits to read. Instead, he'd lived it and come out a bit marred and jaded. Even more so now, as he sat among his fellow Councilors ironing out details about the revitalization of what was once Insomnia.
Once he'd had a taste of the road and the desperate freedom running for you life could bring, he'd learned to hate meetings. They were trite and boring and the arguing was pointless. A quick glance up at their King and he could tell that Noctis felt the same way. After all, he'd been reading his little expressions for decades now.
Another heated argument broke out, a debate over the size of streets and Ignis felt his ire rising. Slim lips shifted, inching down into a faint frown, but to anyone that knew him, it was a clear sign that he was close to stepping into the vocal fray and pity the fools that went against him when he did. A quick glance to Gladio, standing watch over Noctis, ever a presence at his right hand.
It was as much warning as it was plea.
End this or else I will. Please.
