“I still think this is bullshit,” Noct said, as the three men loaded their belongings into the back of Ignis’ hotwired car. Prompto, who couldn’t spend more than half a minute without calling Umbra over for scratchies, looked up past his twitching ears at Noct and Ignis.
“You don’t have to believe it,” Ignis said, with the slightest aggravated draw. It was amusing to hear him use that tone on someone other than Prompto, for once. “Just humor us until we get to Altissia. If it turns out that you aren’t the prince, no harm done, you can look for your family in the records there. But if it turns out you are…”
Prompto noted his cue. “Then bam,” he said. “Instant family. Sort of.”
Noct huffed, climbing into the back seat with the dog. “That’ll take some convincing,” he said, in a low voice. “I’m not exactly prince material.”
Prompto jumped into the passenger seat as Ignis started up the ignition. “That,” he said, smugly, “is what we’re here for. We are the guys who are gonna jog that messed-up memory of yours.” He rapped on Noct’s head, and grinned wide when he was rewarded with a smile. “Hey, Iggy, he’s human after all!”
Ignis glanced at Noct through the rearview mirror, but the young man’s smile was already gone. “Of course he’s human, Prompto,” he said. “Whether he can act a prince is another matter entirely.”
“Oh, I can tell you and I are gonna get along great, Specs,” Noct said, laying out on the back seat.
“Like a house on fire,” Ignis said.
“Let’s hope there are some survivors,” said Prompto, and laughed at Ignis’ exhausted death glare.
“Back straight,” Ignis said, for the twenty-third time.
“Oh, fuck that, man,” said Noct, who was currently at swear number forty-six. “This is as straight as it’s gonna go.”
Ignis threw his hands in the air. “Noct,” he said, in the tones of a man on the verge of strangling all would-be princes. “We are going to meet Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. The daughter of the late Queen of Tenebrae, the youngest Oracle in history, and a close personal friend of the late royal family. If she doesn’t believe you to have a drop of royal blood in that bedraggled mess of yours,” Here he gestured to Noct’s entire person, “then you can kiss all chance of discovering your lineage goodbye.”
“If I’m not the prince, it’s not gonna matter,” Noct pointed out. Ignis groaned. Prompto made a mark under a list on his notebook titled “Iggy loses his shit,” and turned the page.
Coaching Noct in what he needed to know to pass muster was a mixed bag. Some of it he seemed to like—The information about King Regis, the crystal, the cats that the real prince kept trying to rescue when he was young. The deportment, memorization of dates, and the royal manner was a disaster. Noct wasn’t a bad kid—Prompto liked him, actually—but he didn’t really have much of a regal bearing, and he had a nasty habit of withdrawing whenever Ignis got his back up.
He was withdrawing now, wrapping his arms around his legs as Ignis tried to extol the real-life benefits of knowing who the former treasury official was. When Ignis caught him at it, he leaned down and tapped the young man on the forehead.
“What?” Noct asked, savagely. Ignis blinked in alarm.
“Back straight,” he said, in a quiet voice.
“Fuck you,” said Noct, and got up, striding off into the underbrush. Ignis turned to Prompto, who was making a whole new list on his notebook.
“What was that about?” Ignis asked.
“Dude, for such a smart guy, you really can be clueless,” said Prompto. “When you get all high and mighty, he shuts off.”
Ignis opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, but Prompto shook his head. “No. I love you, bro, you know that, but maybe you don’t know everything. You heard what he said before, about how that place where he grew up talked shit about Lucians? You don’t think maybe that has something to do with his authority issues?”
“So I’m meant to coddle him?” Ignis asked. “We don’t have time, Prompto.”
Prompto shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said. “I mean, hey, what do I know? I’m just an MT. Your meat-suit ways don’t register with me, beep beep.”
Ignis stared at him for a long moment, let out a loud, gusty sigh, and stormed off into the grass after Noct. Prompto looked down at Umbra, who was lying at his side, and scratched the dog behind the ears.
“You and me are the only normal ones in this whole traveling circus,” he said.
Ignis found Noct sitting behind a disused power generator, arms tucked into his leather jacket. Ignis felt a pang of remorse—He’d been so focused on getting to Galdin Quay that he didn’t even look at the man. Now that he did, he saw how gaunt Noct’s cheeks were, how his lips were so chapped that they bled in long cracks along his mouth, and that his capris were just an inch too high on his gangly legs. It made him think of the first time he’d met Prompto, all those years ago. Awkward and wounded, both of them, and Noct with too much pride to beg.
Then Noct spoke, and Ignis’ well of sympathy threatened to dry up immediately.
“Here comes the professor,” Noct said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m not here to chastise you,” Ignis said. Noct raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. “No, I… I apologize, Noct. My goal is not to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, your goal is to turn me into someone I’m not,” Noct said. Ignis sat next to him, stretching out his legs.
“Very well, then,” he said. “Who are you?”
“I don’t know!” Noct ran his hands through his hair. “This is all so confusing. A few months ago, I was an ungrateful drain on society. Today I’m, what? A prince? Maybe?”
“Who said that?” Ignis asked. “About being an ungrateful—“
“Does it matter?” Noct snapped. “Look, Specs. Sometimes it’s like… I can almost feel it, you know? It’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue, but it’s in a language you never heard of. This whole time, I can tell it’s there, but when I try to reach for it…” He sank his head into his hands and gave a helpless shrug.
Ignis shifted uncomfortably. If his and Prompto’s plans went through, they would probably only confuse the poor man more. But it couldn’t be helped. He’d gone this far, Astrals forgive him. He couldn’t back out now. For Prompto’s sake, if not for his own.
He gingerly placed a hand on Noct’s back. “It’s only been two days,” he said, at last. “Imagine what will happen in three, or four. Give yourself time, Noct.”
“Right,” Noct said, and clambered to his feet. “Right. We should go back. It’s getting dark soon. He glanced down at Ignis, who still sat with his hands on his knees, staring up at his dark-haired ticket to freedom. “Hey, Specs.”
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timeasmymeasure
FILL 4/? Re: Anastasia AU
Date: 2017-02-22 11:57 pm (UTC)“You don’t have to believe it,” Ignis said, with the slightest aggravated draw. It was amusing to hear him use that tone on someone other than Prompto, for once. “Just humor us until we get to Altissia. If it turns out that you aren’t the prince, no harm done, you can look for your family in the records there. But if it turns out you are…”
Prompto noted his cue. “Then bam,” he said. “Instant family. Sort of.”
Noct huffed, climbing into the back seat with the dog. “That’ll take some convincing,” he said, in a low voice. “I’m not exactly prince material.”
Prompto jumped into the passenger seat as Ignis started up the ignition. “That,” he said, smugly, “is what we’re here for. We are the guys who are gonna jog that messed-up memory of yours.” He rapped on Noct’s head, and grinned wide when he was rewarded with a smile. “Hey, Iggy, he’s human after all!”
Ignis glanced at Noct through the rearview mirror, but the young man’s smile was already gone. “Of course he’s human, Prompto,” he said. “Whether he can act a prince is another matter entirely.”
“Oh, I can tell you and I are gonna get along great, Specs,” Noct said, laying out on the back seat.
“Like a house on fire,” Ignis said.
“Let’s hope there are some survivors,” said Prompto, and laughed at Ignis’ exhausted death glare.
“Back straight,” Ignis said, for the twenty-third time.
“Oh, fuck that, man,” said Noct, who was currently at swear number forty-six. “This is as straight as it’s gonna go.”
Ignis threw his hands in the air. “Noct,” he said, in the tones of a man on the verge of strangling all would-be princes. “We are going to meet Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. The daughter of the late Queen of Tenebrae, the youngest Oracle in history, and a close personal friend of the late royal family. If she doesn’t believe you to have a drop of royal blood in that bedraggled mess of yours,” Here he gestured to Noct’s entire person, “then you can kiss all chance of discovering your lineage goodbye.”
“If I’m not the prince, it’s not gonna matter,” Noct pointed out. Ignis groaned. Prompto made a mark under a list on his notebook titled “Iggy loses his shit,” and turned the page.
Coaching Noct in what he needed to know to pass muster was a mixed bag. Some of it he seemed to like—The information about King Regis, the crystal, the cats that the real prince kept trying to rescue when he was young. The deportment, memorization of dates, and the royal manner was a disaster. Noct wasn’t a bad kid—Prompto liked him, actually—but he didn’t really have much of a regal bearing, and he had a nasty habit of withdrawing whenever Ignis got his back up.
He was withdrawing now, wrapping his arms around his legs as Ignis tried to extol the real-life benefits of knowing who the former treasury official was. When Ignis caught him at it, he leaned down and tapped the young man on the forehead.
“What?” Noct asked, savagely. Ignis blinked in alarm.
“Back straight,” he said, in a quiet voice.
“Fuck you,” said Noct, and got up, striding off into the underbrush. Ignis turned to Prompto, who was making a whole new list on his notebook.
“What was that about?” Ignis asked.
“Dude, for such a smart guy, you really can be clueless,” said Prompto. “When you get all high and mighty, he shuts off.”
Ignis opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, but Prompto shook his head. “No. I love you, bro, you know that, but maybe you don’t know everything. You heard what he said before, about how that place where he grew up talked shit about Lucians? You don’t think maybe that has something to do with his authority issues?”
“So I’m meant to coddle him?” Ignis asked. “We don’t have time, Prompto.”
Prompto shrugged. “Have it your way,” he said. “I mean, hey, what do I know? I’m just an MT. Your meat-suit ways don’t register with me, beep beep.”
Ignis stared at him for a long moment, let out a loud, gusty sigh, and stormed off into the grass after Noct. Prompto looked down at Umbra, who was lying at his side, and scratched the dog behind the ears.
“You and me are the only normal ones in this whole traveling circus,” he said.
Ignis found Noct sitting behind a disused power generator, arms tucked into his leather jacket. Ignis felt a pang of remorse—He’d been so focused on getting to Galdin Quay that he didn’t even look at the man. Now that he did, he saw how gaunt Noct’s cheeks were, how his lips were so chapped that they bled in long cracks along his mouth, and that his capris were just an inch too high on his gangly legs. It made him think of the first time he’d met Prompto, all those years ago. Awkward and wounded, both of them, and Noct with too much pride to beg.
Then Noct spoke, and Ignis’ well of sympathy threatened to dry up immediately.
“Here comes the professor,” Noct said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m not here to chastise you,” Ignis said. Noct raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. “No, I… I apologize, Noct. My goal is not to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, your goal is to turn me into someone I’m not,” Noct said. Ignis sat next to him, stretching out his legs.
“Very well, then,” he said. “Who are you?”
“I don’t know!” Noct ran his hands through his hair. “This is all so confusing. A few months ago, I was an ungrateful drain on society. Today I’m, what? A prince? Maybe?”
“Who said that?” Ignis asked. “About being an ungrateful—“
“Does it matter?” Noct snapped. “Look, Specs. Sometimes it’s like… I can almost feel it, you know? It’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue, but it’s in a language you never heard of. This whole time, I can tell it’s there, but when I try to reach for it…” He sank his head into his hands and gave a helpless shrug.
Ignis shifted uncomfortably. If his and Prompto’s plans went through, they would probably only confuse the poor man more. But it couldn’t be helped. He’d gone this far, Astrals forgive him. He couldn’t back out now. For Prompto’s sake, if not for his own.
He gingerly placed a hand on Noct’s back. “It’s only been two days,” he said, at last. “Imagine what will happen in three, or four. Give yourself time, Noct.”
“Right,” Noct said, and clambered to his feet. “Right. We should go back. It’s getting dark soon. He glanced down at Ignis, who still sat with his hands on his knees, staring up at his dark-haired ticket to freedom. “Hey, Specs.”
“Mm?”
“Back straight.”