Keith doesn’t look up from where he’s gathering papers at
his desk. He takes a breath, but his response takes another moment still, and
when it comes it’s quiet like he’s scared they’ll be overheard, though it’s
after-hours and everyone else is long since gone to dinner or home. “I don’t
know. Away.”
Why would be a better question, but Shiro’s felt it for
weeks now, maybe months–a quiet discontent Keith would never voice.
Me? Posting a random sappy ignoct drabble at work? Its more likely than you think.
“I need to go.”
The words were murmured against Noctis’ lips as Ignis reluctantly drew away for the third time that night. Noctis, petulant as ever, refused to let him get away and chased after him for more kisses. Ignis, as always, gave right in, though he was careful not to completely melt against his fiancé.
Fiancé. In less than a days time they would be husbands. The thought made Ignis’ chest ache in the best way.
“It’s a stupid tradition,” Noctis mumbled with a pout. Ignis smiled and gently nudged their noses together.
“You know how superstitious some of the guests are. They’ll think we’ve laid a curse on our marriage if they knew we were together.”
“I’m the prince and if I want to spend the night with my groom-to-be, that’s my business,” Noctis complained. The lack of sleep had made him grumpier than usual, but he wouldn’t change a thing. The two had agreed to go along with the antiquated tradition- not seeing your spouse-to-be the night before the wedding- mostly for appearances sake rather than any belief in superstition. At the end of the rehearsal dinner, they had wandered off to their separate chambers and less than an hour later Ignis had slipped back to see Noctis.
It stings. All around his eye; a sharp twinge followed by dull throbs. Sometimes it feels like he’s still on fire. But it comes and goes, lessens with each day, so he keeps it to himself. He already hates the other’s doting on him. He doesn’t want to give them more reason to.
Especially Noct. As Ignis sits alone in their sleeping compartment, he finds his mind wandering to Noct constantly. He thinks of the vision he’d seen at the altar, quaking to his very core at the thought of what it all means. The images that haunt his very dreams; make his hands shake with every step toward Noct’s destiny.
“You can just say it, you know.”
Ignis startles, sitting up straight. He hadn’t realized he’d been prodding adsently at his scars and he let’s his hand drop to the bed.
It’s the first time Noct had truly spoken to him in a long while.
He listens intently as Noct slides the door closed and comes to sit in the bed across from him.
“I know, Ignis. I know it hurts.”
Ignis manages a slight smile, but it makes his cheeks ache. He hasn’t had cause to smile in a long while. “Noct, I appreciate the concern, but I assure you–.”
A hand cups his face, thumb brushing under his scar. He freezes at the contact, heart thumping against his ribs. His words are lost and forgotten under the warm touch.
“Don’t give me that.” It sounds like a demand, but Noct makes it gently. “I don’t want you to lie to me. I’m worried about you. I know… I know I have no right to ask you this, given everything, but please don’t shut me out.”
It’s more than Ignis expected to hear, and more than he knows what to do with. He considers lying again, but he thinks again to those visions of Noct run through by a sword on the throne, to the burning of his eyes, to his pleas to the kings of yore for the power to protect. He owes Noct this kindness.
There is no time to lie. There is no time for pity. There is no time.
“Ignis,” Noct whispers, a breath away now. “Does it hurt?”
And Ignis crumbles, slumps forward until his head hits Noct’s shoulder and he’s digging fingers into his jacket.
title: true that he’s no prince charming rating: T (for swearing) words: 3985 summary: “How about I make up for Gladio spoiling our dinner,” Noctis suggested, “by buying you anything you want from this shop?”
Ignis narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “I’m not letting you buy me a thong on our first date.”
Noctis isn’t exactly the charming, confident prince he wants to be, but to equally-inexperienced Ignis, maybe it’s for the best.
“A bit of a late start, Prompto?” Ignis asks over the newspaper and coffee in his hand.
Prompto shrugs as he downs his breakfast protein drink. “We’re on vacation. Not all of us are Gladio and want to get up at the ass crack of dawn to go on our run.”
“Discipline doesn’t take a vacation,”
Gladio grins and plucks the drink from Prompto’s lips, drinking the last bit.
Noct collapses in the chair next to Ignis, putting his head in his arms. Ignis shakes his head and goes back to reading, taking a unsympathetic sip of his coffee. “Can you guys keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep,” Noct groans, voice muffled.
“You want to come on a jog with me, buddy?” Prompto asks, stepping over to Noct cheerfully and clapping him on the back.
“I literally can’t think of anything I find less appealing in this moment.”
The blond shrugs, unaffected, and takes a few jogs in place. “If you say so,” he agrees, tapping his friend on the head. When Noct looks up at him, Prompto leans down and plants a quick peck to his lips.
Ignis notices, and starts to set down his paper when Prompto has jogged to him to kiss him briefly, before starting across the kitchen to Gladio. Surprisingly, the shield leans into him, smirking, and makes an audible mwah sound. “Have fun on your run,” he waves, friendly. Prompto waves back.
Gladio turns to the two at the table, who are stunned to silence, and conversationally says, “I’m going to take a shower.”
Ignis and Noct hear the water start to run, the pipes creaking, before they turn at look at each other. Ignis’s cheekbones are dusted pink and Noct purses his lips and shakes his head at him, gesturing to the room. “See what you’ve started, now?”
title: true that he’s no prince charming rating: T (for swearing) words: 3985 summary: “How about I make up for Gladio spoiling our dinner,” Noctis suggested, “by buying you anything you want from this shop?”
Ignis narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “I’m not letting you buy me a thong on our first date.”
Noctis isn’t exactly the charming, confident prince he wants to be, but to equally-inexperienced Ignis, maybe it’s for the best.
There’s definitely some ideal sort of person that a Prince like Noctis
ought to date. There’s just as definitely people that Prince Noctis
would rather date instead.
When Thorin invites him to visit his grandmother’s garden, Bilbo readily agrees, jumping at the opportunity to spend time with Thorin and to satisfy his curiosity about Dwarves owning gardens. When they arrive he is both surprised and not.
What takes the place of the expected plants are crystals, which Thorin cares for, letting them grow and pruning when necessary. The black, glittering stones that make up the floor hold patterns of raked lines; he feels relieved that his feet do not disturb the work. A ‘river’ of gems called aquamarines cut across the garden and flow into an actual pond of water and Bilbo is utterly enchanted.
They sit on a bench beside the water. After some moments of talking about nothing, Thorin takes his hand.
“When it became clear that I was to inherit this garden, I knew I wanted to bring my One here someday. But the dragon came and…” He sighs a little and Bilbo squeezes his hand. There’s no longer as much raw pain in Thorin’s voice when he speaks about Smaug, helped perhaps by the fact that the dragon is dead and Erebor reclaimed, but it’s understandable that time is still difficult to discuss. “With all that happened, being on the road, Moria, trying to keep my people alive, I never thought I’d have the opportunity to fulfill that wish.”
He shifts so he’s facing Bilbo, able to cup his cheek. “I am fortunate to have found you, Bilbo. Looking back now, I realise that though I pushed the idea away I’ve wanted to be in love for so long. It was just that our paths never crossed.”
Bilbo leans into the contact, quiet for a moment. “I’ve never wanted to be in love.”
It takes the widening of blue eyes and the sharp intake of breath to realise exactly what he’d blurted out and he tightens his grip on Thorin’s hand, rushing to clarify.
“That is to say, I never… it’s never something I thought I wanted. I thought I was comfortable in my bachelor life, that I’d be content to be alone and I was. But then you knocked on my door and I’m so glad that I have you. I could have lived my life alone but I’m glad I don’t have to, now.”
To his relief Thorin’s expression softens and they both lean forward so their foreheads are touching. There is comfortable silence between them and Bilbo feels the question before it’s even asked, so much so that his “Yes” tumbles in just on the heels of Thorin’s, “Marry me?”
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