"The Bond" (A/N: warning for major character death; emo soundtrack - Blaze of Glory https://youtu.be/NX7K70i-_Rs ) Ignis was very pleased with the last meal he cooked for Noctis. A simple breakfast omelette, as necessitated by the King's picky eating habits and the magic he was imbuing the food with. The spices had a slightly bitter tang which mellowed into a full, almost sweet flavor. Prompto declared it orgasmic in one breath and in the next asked suspiciously what kind of eggs Ignis had used.
"Normal ones," he replied, staring Prompto down until he gave in and asked for seconds. Ignis was relieved he didn't need to lie, and moreso that he hadn't needed exotic eggs. He'd have been in trouble if he'd needed to work this particular magic with fresh ingredients; there'd have been no time to gather them after Noct returned.
The other half of the necessary components were in his cup. Though he'd made sure to have one drink a day since he'd learned the spell and its requirements, the brew still tasted vile, and it was all he could do to keep each sip down. The thought crossed his mind that it tasted like death, which. Well. Of course it did.
He'd expected to feel a pull, some kind of connection to his King as proof that the ancient protection had been successfully invoked. But even as they walked into Insomnia, he wasn't positive. Faith made very poor armor, in his opinion, but he hardly had a choice.
Since becoming blind, he'd had greater need of books than ever before. The Six were cruel that way. He had been certain that Ardyn must have left a trail through history, and that the lore of the Lucii had to have been recorded somewhere. He'd been to Gralea again, and to Tenebrae, and once to the ruins of the central library in Insomnia. Necessity demanded that he travel with a companion who could read – preferably someone who was incurious and who wouldn't tell anyone what he was researching. Talcott was, unfortunately, a bit too much of a scholar himself, and clever enough to be able to piece together that Ignis was looking for weapons – any knowledge that could be used to help Noctis defeat Ardyn decisively, and restore the world to light.
What he'd finally stumbled over – literally – was a set of scrolls left behind in a hut outside Taelpar Crag by a scholar who'd lost her daughter to the Tempering Grounds. She'd wanted to petition King Mors to end what she'd called human sacrifices to preserve the immoral reign of the Kings of Lucis.
Ignis thought of the rites and rituals painstakingly described as more of an instruction manual. Ways to lend power and strength to the reigning king, instructions for partaking of the sacrament of royal magic to warp through space and summon weapons, brutal training regimens, and ways to purge the self of all but the will to serve. He mentally dismissed all the techniques that were – or had been – extant in King Regis' time, and focused on those which had been abandoned in the past. One that he found most intriguing was called simply the bond. The head of the Crownsguard up through the time of King Cautis had formed – willingly, the text emphasized – this bond with the king. Should the king die, the Six would take the life of the Crownsguard head instead, as penalty for the failure to protect the king.
Ignis was not the leader of what remained of the Crownsguard – Cor had assumed that role de facto – but he was the most expendable, and he was willing. For his King, for his country, for the future, what wouldn't he give?
Finding the ingredients and recreating the spell had taken a long, patient, and secretive year. The hardest thing to hide was how happy he felt to have made this choice. Gladio had always been perceptive, and Ignis worried that perhaps Clarus had told him about the bond's existance. But after a few months of probing questions, Gladio finally took Ignis out hunting and told him at camp, seated next to him by the fire, "If you've met someone, I'm happy for you, you know that, right?" His knuckles had rapped Ignis' knee almost playfully. "I'd like to meet them."
To correct Gladio's mistake would have been a serious error. Ignis just smiled down at his cup of tea (no beer or coffee; post-apocalyptic life was hell) and shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "But you will."
His faith that Noctis would return was certain. He would defeat Ardyn; the sun would rise again; Noctis would become the king who united all of Eos, as he'd sworn to Prompto. Ignis wished he could see that future become reality, but then again... he wished he could see many things.
When Noct returned, he'd have given so much see him one last time, though over the years Prompto had become nearly as good at descriptions as he was at taking photos. He told Ignis how Noctis' hair was graying and his face had grown into adult lines – he looks a lot like his father, he said. Ignis could nearly imagine it, and that would have to suffice.
Now, confronting Ardyn before the Citadel, Ignis realized he'd forgotten that the bond might very well have existed when Ardyn was in line for the throne. His hands went clammy as he tried to avoid attracting attention; with one poisonous, truthful comment, Ardyn could make Noctis falter and doubt. How fortunate, then, that Ardyn only had eyes for the King, and not his retainers.
And then Ardyn was dead, and the Lucii needed to be summoned to redeem their promise and restore the light. Noctis returned to the throne room alone, and Ignis fought wave after wave of daemons, no longer held at bay by whatever power Ardyn had held over them. He knew he could not afford to fall in battle; as he'd held his faith with Noct, so now Noct was trusting him, even if he didn't know it yet.
He felt when Noctis died, pain stabbing through his breastbone and sending white-hot fire up and down his spine, and allowed grief to stagger him for just a moment before pouring his remaining energy back into hope. The daemons melted away, and Prompto fell into Ignis' side with a gasp, or a sob. For a long moment, they leaned against each other – either that or fall – and then, as Gladio rallied, finally, slowly jerked into movement: back up the stairs, up to the hall, to the throne, where –
"Thank fuck you can't see this," Gladio said, voice raw with unshed tears, and at the same time Prompto pushed forward, saying, "Help me get him down, please."
The sound of a body being lowered to the floor, and a sickening scrape of steel on stone; Gladio muttering on three, I pull you push; and then...
I am willing, Ignis told whatever gods would listen, as the pain blossomed through him. He thought he heard Gladio exclaim, and imagined Noct blinking his eyes open; he smiled, even as he felt his spirit tear free of his lifeless body and the world was around him no more.
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timeasmymeasure
Minifill Gen or Ignis/any bro, Ignis sacrifices himself to bring Noctis back
Date: 2017-08-04 06:06 am (UTC)(A/N: warning for major character death; emo soundtrack - Blaze of Glory https://youtu.be/NX7K70i-_Rs )
Ignis was very pleased with the last meal he cooked for Noctis. A simple breakfast omelette, as necessitated by the King's picky eating habits and the magic he was imbuing the food with. The spices had a slightly bitter tang which mellowed into a full, almost sweet flavor. Prompto declared it orgasmic in one breath and in the next asked suspiciously what kind of eggs Ignis had used.
"Normal ones," he replied, staring Prompto down until he gave in and asked for seconds. Ignis was relieved he didn't need to lie, and moreso that he hadn't needed exotic eggs. He'd have been in trouble if he'd needed to work this particular magic with fresh ingredients; there'd have been no time to gather them after Noct returned.
The other half of the necessary components were in his cup. Though he'd made sure to have one drink a day since he'd learned the spell and its requirements, the brew still tasted vile, and it was all he could do to keep each sip down. The thought crossed his mind that it tasted like death, which. Well. Of course it did.
He'd expected to feel a pull, some kind of connection to his King as proof that the ancient protection had been successfully invoked. But even as they walked into Insomnia, he wasn't positive. Faith made very poor armor, in his opinion, but he hardly had a choice.
Since becoming blind, he'd had greater need of books than ever before. The Six were cruel that way. He had been certain that Ardyn must have left a trail through history, and that the lore of the Lucii had to have been recorded somewhere. He'd been to Gralea again, and to Tenebrae, and once to the ruins of the central library in Insomnia. Necessity demanded that he travel with a companion who could read – preferably someone who was incurious and who wouldn't tell anyone what he was researching. Talcott was, unfortunately, a bit too much of a scholar himself, and clever enough to be able to piece together that Ignis was looking for weapons – any knowledge that could be used to help Noctis defeat Ardyn decisively, and restore the world to light.
What he'd finally stumbled over – literally – was a set of scrolls left behind in a hut outside Taelpar Crag by a scholar who'd lost her daughter to the Tempering Grounds. She'd wanted to petition King Mors to end what she'd called human sacrifices to preserve the immoral reign of the Kings of Lucis.
Ignis thought of the rites and rituals painstakingly described as more of an instruction manual. Ways to lend power and strength to the reigning king, instructions for partaking of the sacrament of royal magic to warp through space and summon weapons, brutal training regimens, and ways to purge the self of all but the will to serve. He mentally dismissed all the techniques that were – or had been – extant in King Regis' time, and focused on those which had been abandoned in the past. One that he found most intriguing was called simply the bond. The head of the Crownsguard up through the time of King Cautis had formed – willingly, the text emphasized – this bond with the king. Should the king die, the Six would take the life of the Crownsguard head instead, as penalty for the failure to protect the king.
Ignis was not the leader of what remained of the Crownsguard – Cor had assumed that role de facto – but he was the most expendable, and he was willing. For his King, for his country, for the future, what wouldn't he give?
Finding the ingredients and recreating the spell had taken a long, patient, and secretive year. The hardest thing to hide was how happy he felt to have made this choice. Gladio had always been perceptive, and Ignis worried that perhaps Clarus had told him about the bond's existance. But after a few months of probing questions, Gladio finally took Ignis out hunting and told him at camp, seated next to him by the fire, "If you've met someone, I'm happy for you, you know that, right?" His knuckles had rapped Ignis' knee almost playfully. "I'd like to meet them."
To correct Gladio's mistake would have been a serious error. Ignis just smiled down at his cup of tea (no beer or coffee; post-apocalyptic life was hell) and shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "But you will."
His faith that Noctis would return was certain. He would defeat Ardyn; the sun would rise again; Noctis would become the king who united all of Eos, as he'd sworn to Prompto. Ignis wished he could see that future become reality, but then again... he wished he could see many things.
When Noct returned, he'd have given so much see him one last time, though over the years Prompto had become nearly as good at descriptions as he was at taking photos. He told Ignis how Noctis' hair was graying and his face had grown into adult lines – he looks a lot like his father, he said. Ignis could nearly imagine it, and that would have to suffice.
Now, confronting Ardyn before the Citadel, Ignis realized he'd forgotten that the bond might very well have existed when Ardyn was in line for the throne. His hands went clammy as he tried to avoid attracting attention; with one poisonous, truthful comment, Ardyn could make Noctis falter and doubt. How fortunate, then, that Ardyn only had eyes for the King, and not his retainers.
And then Ardyn was dead, and the Lucii needed to be summoned to redeem their promise and restore the light. Noctis returned to the throne room alone, and Ignis fought wave after wave of daemons, no longer held at bay by whatever power Ardyn had held over them. He knew he could not afford to fall in battle; as he'd held his faith with Noct, so now Noct was trusting him, even if he didn't know it yet.
He felt when Noctis died, pain stabbing through his breastbone and sending white-hot fire up and down his spine, and allowed grief to stagger him for just a moment before pouring his remaining energy back into hope. The daemons melted away, and Prompto fell into Ignis' side with a gasp, or a sob. For a long moment, they leaned against each other – either that or fall – and then, as Gladio rallied, finally, slowly jerked into movement: back up the stairs, up to the hall, to the throne, where –
"Thank fuck you can't see this," Gladio said, voice raw with unshed tears, and at the same time Prompto pushed forward, saying, "Help me get him down, please."
The sound of a body being lowered to the floor, and a sickening scrape of steel on stone; Gladio muttering on three, I pull you push; and then...
I am willing, Ignis told whatever gods would listen, as the pain blossomed through him. He thought he heard Gladio exclaim, and imagined Noct blinking his eyes open; he smiled, even as he felt his spirit tear free of his lifeless body and the world was around him no more.