Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9475070.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Final_Fantasy_XV
  Relationship:
      Noctis_Lucis_Caelum/Ignis_Scientia, Ignis_Scientia/Original_Character(s)
  Character:
      Ignis_Scientia, Noctis_Lucis_Caelum, Regis_Lucis_Caelum_CXIII, Clarus
      Amicitia, Gladiolus_Amicitia, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Angst, Child_Abuse, No_happiness_here, Poor_Iggy_has_a_hard_life, Suicide
      Attempt, Regis_and_Clarus_go_into_full_daddy_mode, Hurt/Comfort
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-27 Completed: 2017-01-28 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 17558
****** The Price of Duty ******
by FaygoMayhem
Summary
     No one ever said being a royal advisor would be easy, but the price
     young Ignis has to pay might be a little too high.
     Warning!
     Descriptions of rape/ child abuse in the second chapter; please do
     not read if you are uncomfortable
Notes
     This fic spawned as a result of watching way too much Law and Order:
     SVU, and I kind of hate myself for writing it. I separated it into
     two parts so readers could have the fluffy, almost happy beginning
     without the crushing depression that will come in the second half.
     I'm sorry for this in advance.
***** Chapter 1 *****
When Prince Noctis turns three years old, King Regis sends out a summons to the
kingdom to begin testing children in academic aptitude to find the best
candidate for his son’s royal advisor. It’s tradition in the kingdom that the
advisor trainee come to live in palace at a young age to grow up with the royal
they are assigned to in order to form strong bonds so they can trust each other
completely. All children between the ages of 6 and 8 are required to take the
test; the idea being that the advisor be close in age to relate to their royal
but still old enough to exert a certain level of authority.
Ignis Scientia is five-going on six- when the order is passed. His parents beg
and plead with the testing official to give him a chance, showing off test
scores from his prep-school that tout him as a young genius. The man passes the
request to the palace, and it is decreed that Ignis be allowed to test for the
advisor position. Ignis isn’t quite sure when it means to be a royal advisor,
but his parents seem so happy that he vows to do his best and make them proud.
The results come back, and the official is stunned. Ignis has scored higher
than not only every other child in the kingdom, but of all the advisors tested
in the past five decades. They test him again to make sure there wasn’t some
kind of error, and then again when the second score is higher than the first.
After the scores are confirmed to indeed be real Ignis is unanimously selected
by the council to begin advisor training. Usually the selected child is given
some time to prepare for the brutal academic regimen they will endure until
their late-teens and to say goodbye to their family, but Ignis is summoned to
the Citadel immediately. His parents cry tears of joy when he leaves, so happy
that their son has been honored with this important position even it means they
don’t get to watch him grow up.
When Ignis is presented before the King he bows like he had been taught and
does his best to keep his arms and legs from trembling. The King is kind and
warmly welcomes him to the palace, telling him that he hopes Ignis will be a
good friend and confidant for his young son. Ignis promises not to let him
down, proud of himself when his voice doesn’t stutter and he is able to speak
with conviction. The King laughs and takes him to meet Noctis.
The Prince is smaller than Ignis expected and not very regal at all, though he
supposes he shouldn’t expect too much from a three-year-old. His eyes light up
in delight when Ignis is introduced as his new, permanent, friend and the older
boy is immediately grabbed by the arm and dragged off to the space where the
Prince keeps all his toys. He spends the next three hours building block towers
that resemble cities so Noctis can knock them down with his various action
figures, and Ignis thinks he has never before had so much fun. The King watches
the two boys play with a fond smile on his face, making a mental note to praise
the council for their selection.
 
_______
 
Over the next few years Ignis is tutored relentlessly on royal etiquette,
protocol and service; along with advanced accelerated courses in math, science,
literature and history. He learns things that are normally taught to children
twice his age, and excels in everything that is brought forward. King Regis
tells him one day that he is pleased with his progress and it makes Ignis’
heart swell with pride. He works even harder, spending hours at the library
pouring over historical texts and studies on elemental magic. Everyone he
encounters praises him on his diligence and manners, and he is always happy
when he receives letters from his parents telling him how proud they are of
him.
He also spends a great deal of time with his Prince, playing games of pretend
and laughing like the children they are. Ignis knows there will come a time
when it will be his responsibility to teach Noctis all the finer points of
being a royal, and they won’t be able to just play and have fun anymore. He
both dreads and looks forward to this time because though it means sacrificing
his fun with Noctis, it also means that his position has been solidified and
he’s passed all of his tests.
 Ignis is happy with his life, though the work is hard and the reward seems so
far away. At times when he is alone in his room his heart aches with loneliness
and he misses his parents. When this happens he thinks of Noctis and the way
his eyes light up when he comes to play; and he thinks of the King with his
warm smile and his gentle praise. This is his new family, and Ignis is proud to
be a part of it.
Things change when he turns nine. The war with the empire is escalating
quickly, and Ignis’ studies now include political science and military
strategy. He finds himself excelling more than usual on strategy and he is even
brought into meetings where his advice is listened to and taken into account.
Most of the soldiers and generals take offence to being given advice from a
kid, but his theories and tactics are too wise to be ignored. He makes a lot of
enemies among adults who find him too cocky and assertive for his own good,
though nothing more than angry glares and accusatory whispers comes of it.
Ignis is in his room one night reading reports on the empire’s latest targets
when his heart stops in his chest; his hometown is on the list. He rushes into
the hallway where he collides with a messenger who informs him that he has been
summoned by the King. His feet feel like lead as he walks to the throne room to
receive the horrible news he knows is coming. The King looks at him sadly as he
formally informs Ignis that his hometown has been completely obliterated, and
that there were no survivors. He expresses his condolences for the loss of his
family, and Ignis bows and thanks him, though he is unable to keep the wobble
out of his voice. He is stunned when the King then slowly gets off his throne
and pulls him into a tight hug, and Ignis is ashamed when he cannot help but to
break down and cry on his shoulder. This is behavior he should not be
displaying in front of his monarch, though King Regis doesn’t seem to mind and
he holds Ignis in his arms until the tears stop falling.
His lessons are canceled for the next few days and Ignis spends the time caught
between grieving over his family and reflecting on the position he is in now.
He no longer has a home to return to if he fails to secure his position as
royal advisor, and that thought terrifies him more than anything. They had told
him that if the stress was too much, he could resign and another position would
be found for him within the governing district of the palace when he got older.
He wonders if he even really wants the position, if it’s really worth giving up
his entire life just to make sure Noctis turns into a proper ruler. He fights
with himself for an entire day, making lists of the pros and cons of staying
until his head throbs and he collapses onto his bed.
That evening he stirs from a fitful sleep when he hears his door creek open to
reveal the small, timid form of his Prince. ‘They told me what happened when
you didn’t come to play today,’ he says softly with a sniffle. Ignis beckons
him into the room and he rushes inside to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m
sorry the empire took away your family,’ he sniffles again and Ignis can feel
tears welling up in his own eyes, though he doesn’t want to cry in front of
Noctis.
‘They said you might leave if you were too sad because everything here is
really hard. I don’t want you to be sad, but I don’t want you to leave
either….you’re my only friend,’ the sniffles had turned to sobs at this point,
and Ignis sat up to wrap Noctis in a hug, his heart hurting to see his friend
in pain. He rocked them both back and forth slowly, not caring at this point
that his own tears had started to fall. When they both calmed down he laid them
back down, keeping the Prince in his arms and rubbing his back soothingly. ‘I’m
not going anywhere,’ he promised Noctis, who hugged him tighter and nuzzled
into his chest.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’he promised himself later as he closed his eyes again
with Noctis sleeping soundly, still cradled in his arms.
_____
 
He’s treated with kid-gloves for the next few weeks. All his tutors and
trainers are less harsh than usual with his lessons and he’s given more time to
spend playing with Noctis. As much as he enjoys the extra free time he just
wants things to go back to normal, feeling the need to prove himself worthy of
the position and honor the memory of his parents.
On the day Ignis turns ten he wakes up with a lump in his throat. Normally he
would be leaving to spend time at home like he did every year, and the harsh
reality that it was no longer possible hit him harder than expected. He gets
out of bed, willing himself not to drown in his own self-pity and walks down to
the kitchens like he does every morning where he’s met with the smiling faces
of his tutors, some close staff members, Noctis, and even King Regis who all
jovially shout ‘surprise!’ upon his entry. He is stunned as Noctis takes his
hand and leads him to a table with a modest pile of gifts and presents him with
a small box wrapped in a black ribbon. Inside is a black chain with a skull
pendent in the center and Noctis beams at him proudly declaring ‘I picked it
out!’
Ignis holds the box with trembling hands and tears prickling at the corners of
his eyes, staring at the contents far longer than he should. Noctis’ face falls
and he chokes out, ‘sorry if you don’t like it…I thought it looked cool…”.
Ignis snaps back to himself and pulls his friend into a tight embrace. ‘It’s
perfect,’ he says quietly and when he releases Noctis he’s met again with his
bright smile. Ignis takes the necklace out of the box and fastens it around his
neck, clutching the small charm tightly. Regis watches the exchange with a soft
smile, happy that his son has such a good friend by his side.
A few months later Ignis is shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of
the palace attendants, urging that he come to the medical ward. There’s been an
attack, she explains, and Noctis has been gravely injured. Ignis feels like
he’s in a dream as he walks toward the chaos of the ward. There are doctors
rushing everywhere, attendants speaking to the King in hushed voices about the
nature of the attack, and council members preparing official statements should
the Prince not survive. He finds a chair and sits there for what feels like
days until a doctor comes out to inform everyone that Noctis is alive, but
comatose. Relief washes over the room and Ignis is surprised when King Regis
walks over to him and pulls him into a hug. He’s not sure how to react to the
ruler-turned-grieving-father, so he just returns the hug and stays with him for
several minutes before the doctor returns and informs them that they can come
into the room.
Regis dismisses everyone but Ignis and his bodyguard Clarus and they enter the
room where Noctis is laying on his stomach sleeping. He’s paler than Ignis has
ever seen him and there are bandages covering his entire back. Regis pulls a
chair up close to the bed and takes Noctis’ limp hand, cradling it close to his
heart. Ignis thinks it might be the saddest thing he’s ever seen as he pulls up
his own chair on the other side of the bed and the three people in the room sit
in silence until he can no longer force himself awake and he falls asleep
curled into the chair. 
He doesn’t know or care what time it is when he wakes up in his own bed; his
lessons are now a moot point if he has no Prince to advise. He curls into
himself as heavy sobs rake through his body, rendering him completely immobile.
He cries for the loss of his home, his family, his Prince, but most of all for
his friend. When there are no tears left in him he falls back asleep where he
fights dreams of explosions, daemons, and endless rivers of blood. He wakes the
next morning feeling like he hasn’t slept in years and drags himself down to
the hospital to sit in his uncomfortable chair until sleep claims him again, a
routine he keeps for the next few weeks.
Three weeks and four days after the attack, Ignis is shaken awake again in the
middle of the night, this time by Clarus. He immediately panics, thinking the
worst has happened, but is filled with joy the next second when the stiff man
says simply, ‘he’s awake’.  They rush back down to the med ward and into
Noctis’ room where they find Regis holding his son’s hand like usual, but now
the Prince’s eyes are open and his father is unabashedly weeping. Ignis walks
up to Noctis and runs a hand gently through his hair, wishing he could hug him
just to prove he was still with them. ‘Welcome back Noct,’ he said softly,
‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ Noctis’ lips quirk up a little in response, and
Ignis thinks it’s the best smile he’ll ever see.
During his recovery Noctis is lethargic and sleeps most of the days. He doesn’t
talk very often and doesn’t smile anymore, though he seems to like it when
Ignis and his father are in the room with him. He now often awakes panicked
from the assault of the daemons that now live in his dreams and it takes
several soothing words from Ignis or his father to calm him back down. He never
wants to sleep, but he can’t help it. After a while Regis has to return to the
throne he abandoned for so long to look after his son, trusting Ignis to be
there in his stead.
 Ignis now spends all his time in the hospital room with Noctis, often dragging
in books and reports so he can continue his lessons. His tutors insist that he
get back to a normal regimen now that Noctis’ survival is guaranteed, but Ignis
refuses to leave his side. He reads to Noctis often, even when the boy is
asleep, because his voice seems to have a calming effect that draws him quickly
out of nightmares. Sometimes Noctis will stop him and ask him to explain things
in greater depth, which he always does to the best of his ability, but when
Noct starts asking him what the lights are that he sees behind his eyes now
whenever he closes them he’s left stumped. There is no book he can find on the
subject and his tutors are left just as confused as he is by the question.
Never one to leave anything unanswered, he is finally able to corner King Regis
as he’s leaving Noct’s room one evening to ask him as a last resort. The King
looks down at him sadly and simply says, ‘It’s the light of expiring souls.’
Ignis spends the next week pondering how he’s supposed to explain to Noctis
that he’s watching people die behind his eyes.
It turns out that he never has to, because the King decides to take Noctis off
to Tenebrae to recover. The Oracle is there, and the hope is that she can heal
off the damage done to Noctis’ spine so that he’d be able to walk again. It’s
decided that the fewer people they travel with the better, and Ignis is forced
to stay behind.
The months apart from his Prince are brutal. Not only have his tutors piled
more work on him than ever as punishment for his obstinacy while Noctis was in
the hospital, but he has no one to distract him from his bitter, crippling
loneliness. His eleventh birthday rolls around without a soul to care, and
Ignis decides he doesn’t really care either. He buries himself in work, often
times forgoing simple things like eating and sleeping. People start telling him
that he’s working too hard for someone so young and that he should take more
time out for himself. Ignis ignores it all, he had almost lost Noctis and he
vowed to himself that when the Prince got back he was going to be the best
advisor he could possibly be.
This time he’s in the middle of a lesson when they get the news that Tenebrae
is under attack. He abandons everything and rushes down to war room where they
are in correspondence with the guards in charge of the safety of the royal
family, not caring if he’s supposed to be there or not. There’s so much chaos
in the room people hardly notice him and it’s easy to hide himself in a corner
where he can clearly hear the broadcast. At first there’s nothing but
explosions and static, followed by gunfire and clanging of steel. Ignis holds
his breath, clutching his skull pendent and praying silently to anyone that
will listen that his Prince isn’t taken from himagain.After several hours the
voice of the King breaks through the static, he and Noctis have made it out
safely. Ignis can finally breathe again and his hiding place is given away when
he lets out a strangled sob in the quiet room. Luckily Clarus is there to save
him from any severe punishment and he’s allowed to stay until it’s confirmed
that Regis and Noctis are on their way by airship, and will be back by tomorrow
afternoon. Ignis returns to his room and sobs with relief until he falls
asleep.
The next day is hectic as people buzz around preparing for the King’s return;
there is so much damage control to be done that people don’t know where to
begin. Ignis is told firmly to stay out of the way, but nothing is going to
stop him from being there when Noctis returns. He squeezes himself into a small
corner of the hanger where the ship is due to land any minute and is invisible
to everyone but Clarus, who doesn’t seem affected by his presence. When the
ship lands he waits out of site for everyone to finish fussing over the
returned royals before he makes himself known. He approaches from the side, and
is suddenly elated to see the Prince on his feet. ‘Your Highness, Your Majesty,
I’m very glad that you’ve returned unharmed,’ he says in a small voice before
bowing, doing his best to hold back more tears. He nearly gets knocked over
when he rises by the force of Noctis slamming himself into his chest with an
eager embrace that he returns automatically. They stay like that until they are
forced to re-locate back into the palace, though Noctis refuses to let go of
his hand. Ignis finds he doesn’t mind at all, unable to feel anything but happy
they’ve been reunited.
 
 ______
 
Their happy reunion is short lived. Noctis spends a few days telling Ignis all
about his trip, about his new friend Luna and everything they did together from
making flower crowns to playing with her beloved dogs. However it doesn’t take
long for him to retreat back into himself and become sullen and aloof. Ignis
tries everything he can think of to bring back the bright smile he’d become so
fond of, but nothing seems to work. As a last resort he sneaks into the
kitchens late one night when everyone had left with a cookbook and a smaller
notebook that held every detail the Prince could recount about an amazing
dessert he had shared with Luna. His retelling of the story was the only time
he had seen his friend smile in weeks, and Ignis figured that he could maybe
make it happen again if he could recreate the confection.
The problem lies in the fact that he doesn’t know the first thing about baking.
He picked a recipe that seemed the closest to what Noctis had described and
decided to jump off from there, gathering all the required ingredients, plus a
few additions, from the well-stocked kitchen before taking a deep breath and
making his attempt. ‘This can’t be much harder than chemistry,”he thinks to
himself as he starts measuring and pouring ingredients with firm determination.
He finds out later that baking is much different, and messier than chemistry,
as he ends up with half his attempt splattered all over himself, the counter,
and the floor. When his pastries come out of the oven they’re hard as rocks and
nearly inedible. He throws them away and spends the rest of the night cleaning
up his mess so he can remain undiscovered and try again tomorrow.
It takes a solid week of attempts before he comes out with something tasty, and
two weeks after that before he’s made something that fits the description of
the dessert Noctis had loved. He piles everything on a plate and presents it to
his friend the next morning, shyly explaining what he’d tried to do. Noctis’
eyes light up as he accepts the plate, eagerly chomping down on one of the
sweets. He chews it for a long time, his face contemplative, before he swallows
and says, ‘They’re not quite the same, but still really good! Thanks Iggy.’
Then he flashes that bright, beautiful smile Ignis had feared he would never
see again. He vows to keep baking the desserts until he either gets it right or
dies if it rewards him with that smile.
Another year passes and not much changes. The war is getting worse and the King
has had to shrink back much of the Wall as he slowly but steadily loses his
strength. Noctis begins combat training with Clarus’ son Gladiolus, and he
tells Ignis every week how much he hates it as the older boy puts ice on his
bruises and bandages on his small cuts. Ignis gives all the encouragement he
can, but often wonders if the brutish trainer is being too hard on him. He
keeps his worries to himself and focuses on his own training, which has come to
include basic self-defense along with the usual difficult academics. His spare
time gets divided between quiet study sessions with Noctis and experiments in
the kitchen. His baking is greatly improving and he’s expanded into simple
meals as well. The cooks don’t seem to mind him being in there after hours and
a few of them even teach him a few techniques and praise his creations. Ignis
isn’t sure if he actually likes cooking or not, but Noctis smiles at him every
time he gives him something new to try (as long as it doesn’t have vegetables)
so he keeps trying to improve.
At the end of summer one night, Ignis is shook awake once again. His mind
quickly shifts from asleep to awake as he looks around in a panic for the
messenger bringing more bad news and tears. He finds only Noctis, stunned
silent by his reaction and looking extremely guilty. It isn’t an unusual
occurrence for the Prince to visit him in the middle of the night, as he is
often still plagued by nightmares, but he usually just crawls into his bed and
clings to him as he falls back asleep. ‘Noct what is it?’ he asks, voice still
heavy with sleep as he reaches for his glasses on the bedside table and gets a
better view of the room.
‘Sorry, just…..I heard there’s a meteor shower tonight, I was wondering if you
would come to the roof with me so we could watch it.’ Noctis shuffles back and
forth on his feet with his head down, looking regretful and like he wants to
run out of the room. Ignis glances over at his alarm clock; it’s absurdly late
at night and there’s no way anyone would let them out. He pinches the bridge of
his nose and tiredly flops back onto the pillows. ‘Noct it’s late, we can’t go
out right now. I’m sorry,’ Noctis’ entire body drops and Ignis hears him start
to sniffle. His heart breaks, and he gets out of bed to wrap his arms around
his friend to sooth away his tears.
‘I-It’s just…..Luna talked a lot about the stars and how the Six watch over us
from the night sky, and that meteor showers were their way of showing that they
were still there. I just wanted to see it because it reminds me of her…’ Noctis
was clinging to the loose shirt he wore to sleep and sniffling through his
entire explanation. It was in this moment that Ignis knew he would never be
able to deny him anything. He sighed and ran a hand through the Prince’s hair.
‘Go back to your room, dress warm and grab a blanket. I’ll meet you in the
hallway.’ Noctis smiles wide at him and gives him a tight hug, ‘Thanks Iggy.’
Later Ignis puts all his lessons on stealth to use as he sneaks them past the
guards and up onto the roof. He lays one blanket down on the ground, and wraps
the other around their shoulders as they look up at the sky waiting for the
shower to start. Ignis points out all the constellations he can remember, and
tells Noctis of their history as the smaller boy contentedly leans on his
shoulder. Noctis gasps when the first meteor blazes across the sky, followed by
another, then another. He gazes up at the sky in amazement and awe with the
biggest, brightest, smile Ignis has seen in almost two years. He’s then
convinced that the shooting stars really are a gift from the Gods, despite
astronomy lessons saying otherwise, because that smile can’t be described as
anything but divine.
They’re found the next morning curled up together on the roof by a frantic King
Regis. He scolds the boys, though there really isn’t any disappointment in his
eyes. Ignis takes the brunt of the blame, though the King can probably tell
that he’s lying when he claims that it was his idea to sneak out and watch the
stars. His punishment is several long reports on the most boring books
imaginable that will take days to complete, but when they return from the roof
Noctis’ mood seems brighter and some of the childish sparkle has returned to
his eyes.
 Ignis decides then that he will accept any punishment in the world to make
Noctis happy.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hookay all, here we go. This is another warning that this is NOT a
     happy chapter and that it contains descriptions of child abuse, rape,
     and self-harm. I still hate myself for writing this.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When Ignis turns thirteen he receives a new, specialized tutor. He’s informed
that this man will be handling all his academic lessons three times a week from
this point forward and that he is one of the brightest minds in all of Lucis.
Ignis is incredibly nervous when he awaits the man in the newly furnished
study, unable to keep still as he paces around the room observing the numerous
shelves of books, spacious wooden desk and comfortable leather reading couch.
When the door finally opens Ignis forces himself to stand still with his hands
clasped in front of him in a respectable stance.
The man who enters looks to be in his mid-thirties, with medium length dark
hair and icy blue eyes. He smiles warmly at Ignis and introduces himself as
Ashton Cromwell. Ignis recognizes the name from a few of the texts and papers
he had been reading in his spare time. This man was highly regarded in the
Citadel for his expertise on elemental magic and geology, and Ignis could
hardly believe they were standing in the same room, let alone that he was going
to be taught by such an intelligent and respected man.
Stumbling back to himself, Ignis bowed and introduced himself, saying what an
honor it was to have him as a tutor. The man laughed and put a steady hand on
his shoulder, telling him that there was no need to be so formal and that he
was happy to have such a promising young pupil. Ignis smiled back at him,
trying not to be too overcome by his own ego as the man steered him toward the
desks and outlined his lesson plan for the next few months. It was going to be
quite punishing from the sounds of it, and Ignis was looking forward to the
challenge. They spent the first session on an overview of his previous
curriculum with Ignis nervously recounting summaries of his lessons as his
instructor listened carefully. He’s dismissed after several hours with an
encouraging pat on the back and a bright, infectious, smile and he greatly
looks forward to his first lesson.
Over the next few months Ignis is challenged on topic after topic, ranging from
advanced elemancy to high level political strategy. The work is punishing and
he spends many nights in his room practically pulling his hair out as he writes
detailed reports on everything thrown at him. Mr. Cromwell is a strict teacher,
but he is also warm and encouraging, often teasing him on his formalities and
near-sighted dedication to his studies. They argue playfully as he tries to get
Ignis to simply call him by his first name, with him eventually giving in. His
tutor is also rather affectionate, free to give gentle touches to his arm or
shoulder when he does something well. Ignis is uncomfortable with it at first,
but over time finds himself craving the affection and praise from the man he is
starting to see as a father figure.
Noctis has begun attending school, so Ignis sees less of him during the day. He
hopes it will be an opportunity for the young Prince to make some new friends,
but he remains sullen and reclusive. As they grow older he seems to have less
and less in common with his friend. He has no time for video games or comic
books and Ignis finds himself now incredibly reluctant to accept the
punishments for getting caught sneaking around the palace now that he’s
practically buried in books as it is. The only thing they seem to connect on
anymore is his cooking, as Ignis tries time again to sneak vegetables into
meals that Noctis will actually eat and continues to fail at recreating the
elusive Tenebrae tart. He misses the days when he and the Prince could laugh
easily together, but he always knew the time would come when their roles in
life forced them apart.
He is happy to have a like mind in his mentor, however. The two of them have
been known to spend hours after his lessons planted on the couch with cups of
hot tea discussing thematic elements of obscure literature and the best methods
to use when attempting to harness elemental energies. During these times his
tutor is quick to flash him charismatic smiles and sits comfortably next to him
with his arm draped around the back of the sofa, extremely close to his
shoulders.
He is surprised one day about six months into their time together when Ashton
starts asking probing questions about his personal life; is his family proud of
him, does he have many friends, what does he do for fun, has he started dating?
Ignis bows his head and is ashamed to admit that his personal life is rather
dry. His only remaining family is one estranged uncle, Noctis is still his only
real friend, his hobbies have been constrained to studying and cooking and he
really hasn’t even thought about dating- not like he has the time anyway. His
mentor seems saddened by his response and places an understanding hand on his
thigh. He tells him that he’s always available if Ignis needs someone to talk
to. Ignis smiles gently up at his mentor and thanks him earnestly,
unconsciously leaning into the older man’s side. Ashton wraps an arm around his
shoulders and holds him closer, and Ignis wonders if this is what it feels like
to have a father.
 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
On the day he turns fourteen, Ashton gifts Ignis with an elaborate stationary
set, complete with several fountain pens, various colored ink pots, and
customized letter paper. Ignis is touched by the gift and gives his mentor a
warm hug in thanks. He also gives Ignis the day off, asking him if he wants to
go into town and see a movie. He rarely gets outside the palace and jumps at
the chance, happy for the opportunity to spend the day just goofing off-with
his teacher of all people.
The movie they see turns out to be rather terrible, and they spend time after
at a nearby diner cracking jokes about the horrible dialog and gaping plot
holes. Ignis honestly can’t remember the last time he felt this happy, and he
tells his mentor as much on the way back to the palace. The man smiles at him
and places his hand on Ignis’ thigh again, squeezing a little and leaving it
there for the remainder of the drive.
It’s late when he returns to his room to find Noctis sleeping on the edge of
his bed. He gently shakes him awake and is immediately assaulted with questions
as to where he’s been all afternoon. As he explains himself his friend’s
shoulders seem to slump and a twinge of sadness appears behind his eyes that
Ignis doesn’t know what to make of. ‘I waited for you,’ he says simply after a
long period of silence. ‘I wanted to give this to you,’ he gives Ignis a square
package wrapped messily in plain brown paper. He opens it to find a detailed
book about constellations and the legends behind them. He’s already read and
reported on it more than once, but he doesn’t say anything about it to Noctis
because he remembers the significance of the gift.
He pulls his friend into a hug and is a little startled when he quickly pulls
away. ‘You smell weird,’ he declares, as if his nose has been seriously
offended. He lifts his shirt to his face and inhales, discovering that he does
indeed smell like Ashton’s cologne. ‘Sorry,’ is his only response as he crosses
the room unbuttoning his shirt to get ready for bed. Noctis doesn’t respond as
he sits sullenly on his mattress, seemingly unsure of what to do. ‘Are you
sleeping in here tonight?’ Ignis asks, trying to snap him out of it. His friend
just gives a heavy sigh and stands up, ‘Nah, I’ll crash on my own bed for a
change.’ He sounds forcefully cheerful, but his body language betrays that he’s
anything but. He bids Ignis goodnight with a flick of his wrist and walks out
of the room, leaving the older boy stunned by the encounter. He’s still
incredibly confused when he climbs into bed when for some reason he can’t help
but to grab the shirt with the rubbed off cologne and nuzzle his face into it
as he falls asleep, comforted by the scent.
Several more weeks pass uneventfully. Noctis has been mostly avoiding him since
his birthday, not even expressing interest when Ignis brings him a new offering
of Tenebrae tarts. His workload increases daily, and Ignis finds himself almost
lost to stress and sadness. Ashton seems to notice the behavior change and
offers hugs and gentle touches even more freely, which he accepts as his only
lifeline. They are sitting on the couch one evening in silence with Ignis
leaning against the older man’s chest while he rubs his arm up and down his
back in a soothing motion when he is asked another strange question.
‘Ignis, do you like girls?’ he tenses and pulls away to grab his tea. ‘I….I
haven’t thought about it much,’ he can feel himself blushing and he hates it.
With everything going on romance is one of the last things on his mind and, if
he’s being honest, girls even further from it. ‘Oh come on, you’re a teenager
now. You can’t tell me you haven’t at least given it a little bit of thought,’
he pokes Ignis’ shoulder playfully and Ignis turns his head away. ‘Do you like
boys then?’ He can feel himself blushing even harder and he keeps his head
turned firmly in the other direction, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes.
‘Hey, come on, look at me. It’s ok, I’m not going to judge you,’ Ashton presses
himself against his side and coaxes his head back the other way. Ignis keeps
his face downward, still refusing to look at the other man. ‘W-Why do you want
to know?’ he finally stammers out after several long moments of silence.
‘Because I care about you, Ignis. You’re so lonely and already drowning
yourself in work and responsibility when you’re still so very young. It would
be a shame for you to pass by the best years of your life without ever even
knowing what a simple kiss can feel like.’
He feels a hand under his chin, gently forcing it upward. Ignis finally looks
up to see Ashton smiling at him softly, his face now very close. He feels
himself heating up and he licks his lips unconsciously, finding that his mouth
has suddenly gone dry. He has the urge squirm away and run out the door, but
something he can’t identify is keeping him pinned in place. ‘You do want to
know what it feels like, don’t you?’ Ashton tips his chin up higher and lowers
his head so his lips are level with his own. Ignis’ eyes widen and he can feel
his heartbeat pick up inside his chest. His mind is racing and he can’t pin
down a single thought to force out of his mouth. He wants to respond so he just
nods once, cursing himself after the fact.
He doesn’t have long to think before the older man’s mouth descends on his own.
His lips are chapped and a little rough, and he keeps his hand firm under his
chin so Ignis can’t pull away. It feels wrong, and he’s really not sure why
people like it. Unsure of what to do, Ignis presses back. He hopes this is the
right thing to do to give Ashton what he wants so he can just go back to his
room and scrub this moment from his brain. The older man finally pulls away,
but keeps his face close, stroking Ignis’ chin gently with his thumb. ‘Did you
like that?’ He didn’t, but he doesn’t want to hurt the other man’s feelings and
once again loose the only person close enough to feel like family, so he nods
again. ‘Good.’
Before he knows what’s happening Ignis finds himself forced back against the
arm of the couch with the other man on top of him, mouth once again pressed
against his own. The other man’s lips are moving against his almost hungrily,
only stopping briefly to pull away for air before crashing down again. Ignis’
brain seems to have short circuited, and he finds himself unable to do anything
but lie there as the man assaults his mouth and presses himself against his
chest. Soon he moves from his mouth to trail kisses along his neck and suck
gently at the delicate skin there. Ignis feels himself make an awkward noise
that the other man seems to take as encouragement and he returns to his mouth,
this time forcing his tongue inside. It’s wet and sloppy, and Ignis isn’t
enjoying it at all. When he feels a hand trailing down his thigh and between
his legs he finally is given back the brain power to force his head away to
break the seal of their lips and gasp out, ‘Don’t!’
He stares at the other man breathlessly, afraid that he’s going to be angry,
but he only adjusts his tie and looks at Ignis apologetically. ‘That was too
soon, I’m sorry,’ he rubs Ignis’ arms softly as he looks away, forcing his gaze
on anything but the other man. ‘Can I go now?’ he asks quietly after several
long minutes of silence. ‘Of course,’ the other man says sadly and lets him up.
Ignis quickly gathers his things and leaves the room, not even noticing when he
starts running down the hallway back to his room.
He gets into his room and locks the door, chest heaving as he tries to figure
out what exactly just happened. He feels dirty, and he can still taste the
other man’s tongue inside his mouth. He brings his toothbrush with him into the
shower and scrubs both his mouth and his body until he feels a little more like
himself. Even after brushing his teeth three times he can’t get the taste out,
so he sneaks his way down to the kitchens.
Whenever he hears people talk about coffee, it’s that it is bitter, and can be
very overwhelming. He heaps grounds into the filter of the machine and turns it
on, pouring himself a cup after it’s ready and chugging it immediately. He’s
almost happy when the hot liquid burns his tongue and throat on the way down,
and it really does taste as bad as he’s heard. He pours himself another cup
anyway and goes back to his room, certain that sleep will probably be eluding
him that night.
 
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
Ashton doesn’t bring up their time on the couch during their next session, or
the one after that. Just when Ignis thinks that he could maybe just forget the
whole thing he’s beckoned back onto the couch at the end of the third. He’s
tempted to scream and storm out of the room, but for some reason he goes over
anyway, this time sitting a comfortable distance away from the other man.
‘Ignis,’ he begins, ‘I apologize that I was so forward with you last weekend.
Things should never be taken so far so fast and it was a great misstep on my
part that I pushed the line. With your level of maturity, it’s incredibly easy
to forget how young you still are, and I hope that same maturity will let you
forgive my indiscretions.’
Ignis blinks and thinks to himself quietly. He isn’t really sure if he should
forgive him or not, but he’s being looked at with such desperation and
sincerity that his resolve caves and he bows his head forward. ‘I forgive you,’
he almost whispers, and he can’t help but be happy when he is beamed at in
return. ‘I am very glad,’ Ashton responds, ‘I do hope our relationship can
return to what it was. Is it alright if I hug you?’ Ignis nods his head, glad
the worst is over and that things can get back to normal. They stay in the
embrace for several minutes, and then spend several more just sitting together
on the couch in comfortable silence. When he gets up to leave Ashton walks him
to the door, ‘I’ll see you next week, Ignis,’ he says before bending down to
place a simple kiss to his forehead like he has done for Noctis in the past. It
makes him squirm a little, but he soon forces himself not to mind and returns
to his room.
For a few weeks, things really do go back to normal. Though he’s disquieted a
bit more than usual by his mentor’s casual touching, he doesn’t try anything
further. Ignis is able to study, cook, and hang out with Noctis like nothing
ever happened with Ashton. Then one Friday evening after lessons he’s asked
back onto the couch. It’s been long enough that the thought no longer fills him
with anxiety, and he complies without thinking. They talk for a little while
about the latest books they’ve been reading for pleasure and Ignis is in the
middle of explaining the horrible plot of a romance novel leant to him by
Noctis’ trainer when he’s suddenly cut off by Ashton’s mouth on his again. He
turns his face to the side quickly and tries to scoot away, though he gets
trapped by an arm around his waist. ‘What are you doing?’ Ignis asks in a
panic, still struggling to get away.
‘Listen Ignis, I’ve been as patient as I can waiting for you to come back to
me, but you seem to be as stubborn with this as you are with everything else. I
know you’re attracted to me and there’s no reason for either of us to fight it
any longer, so just let go,’ he cups Ignis’ face with both his hands and kisses
him again, giving Ignis a chance to break free. ‘I don’t want this!’ Ignis
glares at him and tries to rise up from the couch, but is pushed back down by a
strong arm against his chest.
‘If that’s the way it is, so be it. We’re going to treat this like another
lesson. Follow my instruction and stop fighting me, or you will fail and I will
tell the King that you are not fit to advise the Prince.’ Ignis froze in place,
knowing he had been swiftly defeated. Ashton had played the Noctis card, the
one thing that could always bring him to heel. ‘So, what do you say?’ Ashton is
leaning in again, anticipating the answer before it’s even said. ‘I’ll do
whatever you want,’ Ignis whispers, fighting tears. ‘Good boy, now kiss me.’
Ignis does.
At first it’s only kissing, every Friday after lessons Ashton pushes Ignis down
onto the couch and attacks his mouth while the boy tries to clumsily follow
along. He hates it when there’s tongue involved, but whenever he’s asked for
entrance by a swipe or bite along his bottom lip he opens his mouth and wiggles
his tongue alongside the invaders’. He hates the hand that sometimes snakes up
to pet his hair and the way his glasses push uncomfortably against his nose. He
hates the feeling of the other man’s bulging trousers against his leg, and most
of all he hates the way his own body responds to kisses made at his throat,
behind his ear, and later down his chest when Ashton gets adventurous. It
usually doesn’t take long for the older man to start rutting against his leg,
and Ignis just lies there until he finishes before he can fix himself and
leave.
Then Ashton’s hand starts wandering lower, palming Ignis though his clothes as
he grinds his own erection against the boy’s thigh. He hates the noises that
force their way out of his throat, he hates the warm feeling in his groin as he
nears completion, and he hates the sticky fluid that spills into his underwear.
It always takes a very long shower and several cups of coffee before Ignis can
function again afterward. He barely eats or sleeps, and leaves his room only to
return to the kitchens for more coffee.
Noctis invites him to his room one Saturday to hang out, and Ignis reluctantly
agrees. His friend is a bit confused when he takes a seat on the floor rather
than the couch, but shrugs it off and the two sit together watching TV for a
while before Noctis speaks up in a quiet voice. ‘Iggy, are you OK?’ he asks,
‘You’ve been acting kinda weird for a while.’ Ignis freezes from his spot on
the floor, incredibly grateful that Noctis can’t see his face. ‘Weird how?’ he
asks softly, taking a long drink from the thermos of coffee he now carries
around everywhere.
 ‘I dunno…. you always look like you expect something to jump out at you from
any corner, you’re constantly drinking that nasty coffee like it’s the only
thing keeping you alive, and you stopped cooking and bringing desserts…’ Noctis
trails off, realizing he’s starting to sound selfish when he’s trying to worry
about his friend. Ignis bows his head and speaks softly as he confesses, ‘I’m
very tired, Noctis. I haven’t been sleeping well for quite some time now.’
Noctis moves down to the floor and scoots closer to his friend to place his
head on his shoulder; Ignis tries his best not to pull away from the contact
and eventually leans his head over to meet his friend’s. ‘Maybe you should go
see the doctor, they can give you medicine that helps you sleep. I have some
too but I don’t like it.’ Noctis suggests, trying to be helpful. ‘That could
very well be the solution until my schedule calms down, thank you, Noctis.’
Ignis yawns and leans back against the couch, wrapping an arm around Noctis’
shoulders comfortably to bring him along. They both try and focus on the TV,
but soon fall asleep together in that semi-uncomfortable position and wake up
with aching backs and necks. Still, it’s probably the best sleep Ignis has had
in months.
Soon after that Ashton decides that he’s had enough of make-out sessions that
end only in grinding through clothes. He has Ignis on the couch with his shirt
all the way untucked and unbuttoned, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen. ‘You
look so beautiful,’ the older man tells him as he trails kisses along his
jawline, ‘I need to see all of you.’ Ignis whimpers as his pants are unbuttoned
and pulled off his legs and Ashton looks at him like he’s some sort of dessert.
Kisses are planted down his chest to the waistband of his underwear, then they
are removed as well. He can’t help but to groan and arch his hips up when the
other man takes him into his hand and rubs his palm along his length. He begins
to stroke him and Ignis starts panting, soft groans are spilling from his mouth
and he is deeply embarrassed- he’s barely ever done this to himself. It doesn’t
take long before he’s spilling into Ashton’s hand, and he cringes as he watches
him lick the sticky fluid off.
‘Your turn,’ the older man says with a grin and leans back on the couch. Ignis
robotically climbs on top of him and unfastens his pants to take him into his
hand. He has no idea what he’s doing, so Ashton instructs him until he has the
other man panting and groaning as Ignis strokes him to completion as well. He’s
not about to use his mouth to clean up, so he finds a tissue and wipes his hand
off before dressing himself and leaving the room. Later in the bathroom he
holds his hand under scalding hot water trying to clean it off, but he can
still feel the sticky fluid clinging to it like some kind of disgusting film.
He doesn’t want to touch anything with his filthy hand, so he finds a pair of
black leather gloves that he wears in the winter and slides them on before
climbing into bed fully dressed and curling into himself trying uselessly to
fall asleep. No one comments when he continues to wear the gloves everywhere,
chalking it up to some sort of teenage fashion statement.
The next week he walks down to the medical ward to request a meeting with a
doctor. He tells him that the stress and pressure of his duty is leaving him
unable to sleep. He has gotten very good at lying, and the doctor prescribes
him with some low dose sleeping medication without a thought. He warns Ignis
not to take more than instructed because the pills can become addictive. He
doesn’t worry too hard about that; he’s sacrificed too much to waste his hard
work on a drug addiction. When he returns to his room, pills in hand, he takes
one immediately and gets back into bed. He finally sleeps peacefully for the
rest of the weekend.
 _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
When Ignis turns fifteen he is offered a permanent seat on the War Council.
They have been reading his reports and tracking his progress, and his sharp
mind and keen attention to detail has greatly impressed the King and his
advisors. He accepts without thought, greatly honored by the offer. Noctis
seems sullen, however, as it means that Ignis will have even less time to spend
with him.  Ignis gently reminds him that after a year, as long as he passes his
exams, they will be spending a great deal of time together so he just has to be
patient a little while longer. Noctis doesn’t say anything, but smiles at him
softly knowing how hard his friend is working to become his advisor.
Ashton’s birthday gift to him is to make him strip down and lie back as he
takes him into his mouth. Ignis doesn’t like the weird slurping sounds the
other man makes as he sucks him like a popsicle until he releases down his
throat. He absolutely hates it when he is open-mouth kissed and he can taste
himself on the older man’s tongue. Thankfully he doesn’t make him do it back.
Yet.
The best thing about having a seat on the council is that he has an excuse to
cut his lessons short, or escape the room before an “after hours” session can
begin. All the information on the meetings is classified, so as long as he
doesn’t use the excuse too often he can sneak away both with and without
something to do. He suspects Ashton has caught on after a few months, but there
isn’t really anything he can do about it as long as he continues to excel at
his lessons.
The sessions they do have become more heated however, and Ignis fights back the
urge to vomit the first time Ashton reclines back on the couch, fully nude, and
tells him to “put his pretty mouth to good use”. He coughs and gags around the
length in his mouth, but that doesn’t stop the older man from forcing his head
up and down until he can make his throat relax and accept it. He hates the
taste of the spunk in his mouth and later has to drink three full thermoses of
black coffee to wash it out.
Eventually Ignis teaches himself to block out the actions and put himself on
autopilot during their time together. He goes through all the motions, but
retreats into his head where he recites old poems, does complex mathematical
equations and counts backwards in a dead language he learned for fun. This
method helps him cope, and he’s able to return to kitchen to create new dishes
to present to Noctis and goes back to stubbornly trying to recreate the
Tenebrae tart. He’s able to be content, for the most part, constantly reminding
himself that he only has to make it through a few more months before his extra-
curricular lessons are a thing of the past.
He’s laying with Ashton on the couch one night when the other man lets it slip
that the King has requested that he tutor Noctis through his high school years
since he’s made so much progress with Ignis. His heart stops, and he has to
fight down the bile that rises in his throat at the thought of Noctis being in
this position. The next time he meets with the King, he drops the suggestion
that Noctis attend a public school in order to better connect with his piers.
He plants the idea in Noctis’ head as well, telling him that he would dislike
being cooped up in the palace so much.
The next time he meets with Ashton he is pulled to the couch before the lesson
even starts. He pins Ignis’ arms above his head and looks down at him with an
angry glare. ‘I hear Prince Noctis has decided to attend public school next
year,’ he growls, ‘you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?’
Ignis tries his best to look contrite as he stares back up at the other man. ‘I
did,’ he confesses, ‘I didn’t want anyone else to have you.’ He has gotten very
good at lying indeed. The older man’s expression softens and he bends down to
kiss him softly. ‘Don’t worry dear heart, I’m all yours,’ Ignis cheers
internally at the victory as his body is ravaged by the other man. He is
stripped and pulled into his lap and they rock together as he holds both their
lengths in his hand. ‘This will never happen to you,’he promises to Noctis
inside his head.
He turns sixteen without much fanfare. He occupies all his time studying for
his upcoming exams, refusing to fail and let everything go to waste. His
sleeping pills stop working, and the doctor allows him a stronger dose, warning
him again on the dangers of overdoing it. He barely sees Noctis anymore, and
when he is able to come around their time is spent in silence as they watch
movies or TV. ‘Not much longer,’ he tells himself every night after his
scalding showers and oral regimen.
He’s unsurprised the night Ashton wraps his arms around him from behind as he
stands to leave, pressing an erection into his backside. ‘You’re a man now,
Ignis. It’s time to consummate our relationship, don’t you think?’ He nips on
his ear and Ignis groans. He’s been mentally preparing himself for this moment
for a long time, but that doesn’t stop the tears from prickling in the corner
of his eyes when he’s stripped and forced onto his hands and knees on the couch
and made to suck on the man’s fingers. He hates the way it feels as the first
one is inserted; it hurts and feels too unnatural. It starts to burn when the
second one is inside, and Ignis feels the tears starting to fall. ‘Hush love,’
Ashton says as he presses gentle kisses to his shoulders, ‘just relax and it
will feel good, I promise.’ Ignis retreats into his mind as the fingers stretch
him open, but he’s drawn back to reality when Ashton pushes himself inside.
The pain is greater than anything he’s ever known, and he continues to cry as
it happens again and again. He really hates the way Ashton is whispering into
his ear about how good it feels inside of him, he hates the sounds of skin
slapping on skin and he hates the way it doesn’t feel good at all. His hips are
grabbed so hard he’s sure it will leave bruises as his body is forced backward
over and over until the older man bites down on his shoulder and spills himself
inside of him.
Ignis flops bonelessly down on the couch and just lies there as Ashton gets
dressed. He throws Ignis a dirty towel to clean himself off with, and Ignis
hates how he didn’t even have the decency to use a condom. He rises on unsteady
legs and limps back to his room, stripping without thought and going to the
shower automatically. He scrubs himself until his skin is red and raw before
curling into the corner of the shower wall and crying until the water is too
cold for him to stand. Afterward he crawls into his pajamas and dry swallows a
double dose of the sleeping medication before burying himself under his
blankets and crying himself to sleep. He stays in bed the entire weekend
undisturbed, and goes as far as to fake an illness to get him out of meetings
and lessons for the following days. Noctis brings him soup and tells him to get
better fast so they can cook together again, and Ignis manages to hold himself
together until he leaves before he starts sobbing again.
He recovers from his “illness” in a few days and goes back to studying and
attending meetings. If anyone notices his sullen mood or the red rims around
his eyes they don’t say anything; Ignis figures it’s probably because they
don’t care. However it doesn’t take long for him to be discovered by the one
person that does care. ‘Specs you look terrible, you sure that you should be
out of bed?’ Noctis corners him in the kitchen as he’s taking a fresh batch of
Tenebrae tarts out of the oven. ‘Good evening to you too, Highness,’ he quips
as he places the tray on top of the stove to cool.
 ‘Sorry, it’s just…..you seriously look like you haven’t slept in years,’ he
moves over to grab one of the sweets off the tray, even if it is too hot to eat
just yet. ‘My exams are in a month, I’ve been studying almost non-stop,’ he
offers as explanation, hoping Noctis will drop the subject. ‘Just don’t kill
yourself, it’d suck to have to find a replacement,’ he grins in jest before
taking a bite of the tart and contemplating the flavor for a minute. ‘I don’t
think there’s anyone else who could fail so many times at doing the same thing
and still keep at it for whatever reasons you keep locked in that giant brain
of yours.’ He knows deep down that Noctis doesn’t mean it, but he can’t stop
his heart from falling or his brain from telling him that everything he’s doing
is useless, because he’s just bound to keep failing in the end.
He takes a seat and presses his head down on the counter, hiding it with his
arms. He’s far too worn out to cry, so he just stays like that until Noctis is
alarmed. ‘Come on Iggy, I was just kidding,’ he moves over to place a gentle
hand on his shoulder and Ignis leaps away from the counter like something was
attacking him, knocking his stool over in the process. ‘Ignis what the hell is
wrong with you?!’ Noctis is starting to get really worried, but Ignis just
smooths his shirt down and acts like nothing happened. ‘I have to get back to
work, I’ve spent too much time here,’ Ignis says angrily, walking out of the
kitchen and leaving his friend in stunned silence.
He decides it’s best to avoid Noctis until he’s able to end his “lessons” with
Ashton and put himself back together. The man is insatiable after their first
time, and now he finds his actual studies canceled in favor of time spent on
his knees or in his lap on the couch; or bent over the desk, the arm of the
couch or the top of the small study table. Ignis doesn’t cry anymore. He zones
out to the point where he doesn’t feel any pain at all, but he doesn’t feel any
pleasure either. Even when Ashton strikes the spot that makes stars appear
behind his eyes as he strokes him in his hand, it still never feels good. When
people ask why he’s walking so strange, or what caused the bruising on his
wrists he tells them that he’s begun combat training -which is something he
will start soon- and they leave it alone. He’s become very, very good at lying.
Ignis lays on top of Ashton the eve before his exams recovering as he gently
strokes his hair. Ignis hates it, but he’s unable to move just yet so he lets
it happen and heaves a heavy sigh. ‘Don’t worry love, you’ll pass your tests
with flying colors, and become the best advisor Lucis has seen in the past five
decades,’ Ignis doesn’t believe the encouragement, but accepts it with a fake
smile anyway. ‘I’ll find a way to keep us together, I promise. There’s no way I
would ever let you go, my love,’ He kisses his head and Ignis feels every sore
muscle in his body tense. Finding sudden strength to stand, he dresses and runs
into his shower with tears already streaming down his face. He feels sick and
he wants to scream, every part of his body crying out as his brain repeats
“there is no end” over and over until he’s a useless lump on the bathroom
floor. He stays that way until morning when he rises and gets himself ready for
his first exam, trying his best not to look like the disheveled shell of a
person he’s become.
 After three days of endless testing, he finally lets himself collapse on his
bed and curl back into himself. At this point he really doesn’t care if he’s
passed or not because it doesn’t mean anything. The torture won’t end, just
take new form until he’s too broken to fight back. He almost wishes that he
fails. He thinks of Noctis and hates himself for feeling that way. He stays in
bed for the next two days before being summoned to the throne room for the
results. 
King Regis nods at him as he enters the room, surrounded by palace staff and
council members. He feels a little nervous, but walks with his back straight
and his head high to bow before the King, the formality being almost second
nature at this point. He stands with his back straight and his hands clasped at
his front and awaits the decision with the stoic expression he’s perfected over
the years.
‘Ignis Scientia, you came to the palace at the age of five to begin training
for the honor of becoming my son’s most trusted advisor. After ten years of
intensive schooling your exam results reveal…..that you are indeed the most
promising young man to try for the position in quite some time. The position is
yours, should you accept.’ The King smiles at him and Ignis feels pride swell
in his chest for the first time in many years. ‘It is my honor, Your Majesty,’
Ignis recites and bows once again, finally feeling tears that aren’t born out
of sorrow prickling at his eyes. ‘Very well, in one week’s time you will be
sworn into service of the crown. Until that time you are freed of
responsibility to do as you please. You have certainly earned it.’
 Ignis is dismissed from the throne room and he walks back to his quarters with
a huge, genuine smile on his face. He wants to change out of his stuffy formal
attire and go find Noctis so they can celebrate; he can worry about everything
else later. His mood is shattered when he finds Ashton standing outside his
door with a bottle of champagne and the bright smile he’s come to despise. ‘I
told you that you would do splendidly,’ he praises as he pulls Ignis to his
chest for a hug. ‘I figured it would be fitting to retire to your quarters for
a special celebration,’ there is no way Ignis will be able to stand having the
older man in his room. It’s been his safe haven from all the torment almost his
entire life, and he won’t have it defiled.
‘I’m supposed to meet Noctis,’ he says firmly, trying to brush past the other
man. If he can just get inside he’ll be safe, but he’s caught around the waist
and slammed back against his door. ‘I guess we’ll just settle for a quickie
here in the hallway. I never knew you to be one for voyeurism, Ignis.’ He tries
to protest but it catches in his throat when a hand is suddenly stuffed down
his pants. ‘You did so well Ignis you deserve a reward,’ Ashton whispers as he
licks and sucks around his neck. ‘Tell me what you want baby, you get anything
tonight,’ the button on his pants is popped and the other man begins stroking
in earnest. Ignis feels his head going fuzzy, but comes back to his senses when
he hears footsteps down the hall. ‘Get off!’ he demands, ‘there’s someone
coming.’
His words are ignored and his mouth is captured in a fierce kiss that silences
further protest. Ignis stills, he would know those shuffling footsteps
anywhere. He squirms and fights but it’s too late, Noctis has seen everything.
He stops and stares for only a few moments in shock before taking off in the
opposite direction.  ‘What a coincidence. If you had just let me inside we
could have kept the young Prince from seeing you so….on display. Now, are you
going to let me inside or am I going to have to fuck you in the hallway like a
whore?’ Ignis is flooded with an emotion he’s never quite experienced, finally
something that’s not sorrow, or lethargy, or complacence; it’s rage.
‘Get off me,’ he warns in a voice that he doesn’t recognize as his own. ‘Or
you’ll do what exactly?’ Ashton mocks, leaning his face in closer. Without
warning Ignis bashes his head into the other’s causing him to stumble backward
a bit. He then brings a knee up to collide with the other man’s groin and then
forces his palm under his nose and thrusts upward until he hears a sickening,
satisfying crack. He then takes off running down the hall after Noctis, pausing
only to fix his pants and ignoring the throbbing pain in his head and the blood
pouring down his face from the gash caused by the headbutt.
Ignis finds Noctis on the roof, leaning off one of the edges. He bends over to
catch his breath and finds instantly that it was a mistake, as his vison starts
to blur a bit and he feels himself getting dizzy. He ignores everything and
calls out to Noctis, who won’t even look at him. ‘So that’s why you stopped
coming around? Why you spent all your free time “Studying” and were too busy
for me anymore? Did you fuck your tutor for better grades so you could gain a
position of power? Am I nothing to you but something to elevate yourself with?’
Ignis can hear Noct’s voice breaking and it shatters him to pieces. Where would
such ideas even get planted in his head? ‘Noct…’ he says weakly, unable to even
form words as he staggers over to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, which is
immediately shrugged off. Noctis still won’t look at him and his voice breaks
again when he says, ‘Don’t. Just save the stupid explanation Ignis, I really
don’t care. You can be my advisor or whatever, but you’re not my friend.’ He
pushes away from the ledge and walks back to the elevator without sparing him a
passing glance. Ignis falls to his knees and just sits there for an inordinate
amount of time before he kicks into autopilot and forces himself to go back to
his room.
There is no sign of Ashton, and Ignis feels a small twinge of satisfaction when
he spots the drops of blood on the floor leading away from his room. He strips
down to get in the shower like he does after every encounter with Ashton, but
doesn’t scrub himself. He simply stands there watching the blood from his head
wound flow down the drain until the water gets cold and he steps out. He looks
at himself in the mirror for the first time in ages, and he automatically
agrees with Noctis that he does look terrible. There are deep black rings under
his eyes and his face looks sunken and hollow. He moves his head to reveal the
bruises that pepper his neck and shoulders that are usually covered by shirt
collars. He looks down at his body to find it far too thin, almost frail, and
there are more dark bruises on his hips, thighs and abdomen.
‘You’re not my friend,’ the words echo in his mind over and over and he almost
has to laugh at the bitter irony of losing his friend on the same day he passed
through the grueling process of bringing them closer together. He opens the
medicine cabinet and takes out the bottle of sleeping pills, desperate to just
sleep for a week, a year, maybe even forever. He doesn’t know how many pills he
pours into his hand or how many it would even take to just end his suffering
for good.
Usually thinking of Noctis is enough to banish these thoughts from his mind,
but now Ignis has lost him and there’s nothing left for him anywhere. He stares
at the handful of pills in his hand and shoves them into his mouth without a
second thought, washing them down with water from the sink. He walks into the
room and pulls on underwear and a random shirt, thinking it would be improper
to be found later fully nude on his bathroom floor.
He burrows under the covers of his bed, like he has so many times in the past
years, and cries himself to sleep.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Damn. Who else needs a fuzzy blanket and a hug? Sorry to end on a
     cliffhanger, but the chapter became a monster as it is and there's
     still a ways to go before the end. The last part will be up soon, I
     won't keep you waiting long. Thanks for reading this angst-fest.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     I promise this chapter doesn't hurt quite as bad, but it still gets
     pretty heavy. No more warnings though.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Ignis wakes up in the medical ward some time later to find King Regis beside
him clutching his hand like he had done with Noctis so many years ago. His head
is throbbing, his throat feels scratchy, his abdomen aches and his vision is
blurrier than it usually is without his glasses, and he has to rub his eyes
with his free hand to make sure he’s not just hallucinating the King by his
side. Regis smiles with relief and holds his hand tighter, ‘Ignis, thank the
Gods you’re awake, you scared me half to death, son.’
Ignis isn’t sure if he should be glad that he woke up or not; the thought of
eternal rest had been so enticing. ‘How long have I been here?’ he asks, voice
dry and raspy. ‘Two days,’ Regis replied. ‘One of the kitchen staff found you
in your room the morning after you were given your exam results. She went up to
bring you some coffee when you didn’t come down yourself and she nearly had a
heart attack when she found that you wouldn’t wake up. They pumped your
stomach, but there was great concern that you might slip into a coma. The
doctors said if you hadn’t had a tolerance to those sleeping pills you would
have died.’
Well, that explained most of the discomfort he felt. It didn’t explain,
however, why the King of Lucis was sitting at his bedside. It really didn’t
take long for him to connect the dots- he didn’t have any family, so Regis was
the default medical contact as his guardian until he turned eighteen. That
meant they had shared the results of any examinations conducted without his
permission. It meant he probably knew everything.
‘I’m not going to ask you why you did it, because I do believe that I have some
idea. However I do need confirmation from you before I proceed with anything.
Ignis, they found the bruising all over your body along with some
extensive….internal damage. I need to know if this happened with your
permission,’ Regis looks like years have been cut off his life as he questions
him, and Ignis can’t stand to look the man in the eye. He bows his head and
shakes it gently, finally confessing his torment with the motion.
Regis’ hands ball into fists and the anger becomes evident in the red flash of
his eyes and deep tone of his voice. ‘Your tutor came to me the night you were
accepted and regaled me with a story of how you cheated on the exams, and then
assaulted him when he threatened to expose you. I’m assuming he’s the culprit?’
Tears prick the edges of Ignis’ eyes as he nods his head. He honestly doesn’t
know how he even had any left.
‘How long?’ Regis asks. Ignis is terrified but there’s no turning back now that
his shame has been brought to light. ‘Two years,’ he answers softly, still
looking away from the King. His eyes flash red again before he takes a calming
breath and softens his voice, ‘Son, why didn’t you tell anyone?’ Ignis
nervously wrings his hands together, something that proves difficult with the
needle jabbed into his vein, and he realizes this is one of the only times he
has been without his gloves outside of the shower and the study for years. He
feels even more naked and uncomfortable, but he steels his voice and recites
the information like an oral report.
‘He told me that if I didn’t let him do it that he would fail me, and ensure
that I no longer had a place at the palace. He also later expressed interest in
having Noctis as a student, so I……kept him distracted until the Prince was
formally enrolled in school. I apologize for my sinful adultery, Your Majesty,
I understand if you wish to revoke my acceptance, though I assure you that all
the work presented was genuine, and I have never been given passing grades in
exchange for…favors,’ Ignis feels like the wind has been knocked out of him as
he finishes.
His chest heaves with the exertion of forcing everything out with a steady
voice, and he feels tears silently running down his cheeks. He wishes that he
could just stop crying altogether, so sick of the feeling of salty dampness on
the side of his face. He can feel the last of his defenses crumbling as he
awaits the King’s judgement, and is very startled when Regis takes his hand
again and cradles it to his chest.
‘Oh Ignis,’ he says sadly, bringing his hand up to his face where Ignis can
feel tears there as well. The King is crying for himand Ignis doesn’t know how
to process it. They stay that way for a long time, both quietly grieving before
a doctor walks in to check on him and Regis lets go of his hand. The doctor
delicately checks his vitals with Ignis flinching every time he’s touched and
asks how he’s feeling. He feels like he wants to walk out into the desert where
his tears won’t fall and stay there until he’s nothing but Voretooth meat, but
he doesn’t say any of that out loud. Instead he says he’s doing fine and
politely asks for some water. 
The King rises from his chair slowly when the doctor leaves still sadly
regarding him. There were several things he was expecting upon his confession
and pity was notone of them. He doesn’t know how to handle it and the gaze
makes him squirm. Why does the King care? What has he done to deserve the grief
of the most powerful man in the lands on his behalf?
‘There are some matters I need to attend to regarding the status of Mr.
Cromwell in the palace. I can’t take away what’s already happened, but I can
assure you that he will NEVER, EVER get near enough to hurt you again,’ There’s
anger in the King’s voice, but it’s also laced with something like…..love.
Reality hits Ignis like an ancient history tome to the face when he realizes
how wrong he’s been with the assumption that he was without a family. 
The King grabs his hand again and asks Ignis to look him in eye, which is
incredibly difficult, but he manages somehow. He sees Regis looking at him the
same way he sometimes looks at Noctis; like a protective father. ‘Ignis, I know
this is hard, but I need you know that none of this is your fault. Please don’t
blame yourself for that…..traitor’sactions. I’m not revoking anything, unless
you wish to leave, and your ceremony can be postponed as long as it takes for
you to be well again. I am convinced now more than I ever will be that there is
no person on this planet who could be more fit to stand at Noctis’ side. You
have endured the worst hell imaginable for his sake, and I can only hope that
he will one day realize the scope of how deeply you care for him and give you
the hard-earned respect you deserve.’
Ignis flushes and turns his head away, the mantra of Noctis’ last words to him
repeating in his head. ‘You’re not my friend.’ He sobs and the King holds his
hand tighter until he can find words again. ‘Noctis hates me now,’ he breathes,
voice barely a whisper, ‘He saw Ashton…..Mr. Cromwell… and I…doing things, and
he’s now convinced I’m only seeking elevation in my own status. He wouldn’t
even look at me….’ His voice trails off and he falls into silence once again.
‘I’ll talk to him,’ Regis says softly.  
The King puts his hand down and brushes hair off his face gently before kissing
his forehead; it’s the only thing Ignis hasn’t flinched away from in weeks.
Before he can leave the room Ignis requests that he tell the doctors that he
doesn’t want any visitors except himself. He’s terrified of both being somehow
assaulted by Ashton, and letting Noctis see him in this broken state. He just
wants to sleep, so he throws himself back onto the bed and shuts his eyes,
desperately trying to fight the darkness lurking in his own mind.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
Regis exits the hospital room feeling more drained than he has in years. Clarus
waits outside the door, stalwart as always, and lets the King compose himself
for a few moments. ‘How is he?’ he asks gruffly. ‘Alive and awake,’ Regis
answers, not trusting the truth to anything further. ‘Gods Clarus the things he
went through. Abused for years under our own noses. I can’t even begin to
imagine the things that monster did to him….How am I supposed to live with
this?’
Horror briefly flashes on Clarus’ face before his features are schooled back to
his neutral expression, ‘You do your duty as King, and put that jackass where
he belongs.’ Regis gives a firm nod and they both walk back to the throne room,
pausing only for a moment to have Cromwell summoned for a hearing. He gathers
members of the counsel to oversee the hearing, only briefly explaining the
reason for it.  They wait for an hour in silence before the man enters, and
Regis fights with everything he has not to plunge his sword straight through
his heart.
The man clearly has no idea what he’s getting into as he bows and stands before
the King looking as smug as he can with a broken nose. ‘Mr. Cromwell, you stand
before us with a bold accusation. The council will now hear your claims and
deliberate a verdict,’ the Kings hands are clutching the sides of the throne
with rage, the only thing betraying his anger. The hearing is only for protocol
purposes, and it pains him to let this snake of a man try and cover his crimes.
Cromwell clears his throat and begins his lie. ‘Your Majesty, it is with great
sorrow that I inform you that my pupil, Ignis Scientia, recently chosen advisor
to the Prince, has been lying to you all for quite some time. I have recently
come across evidence that he has been forging several of his papers and somehow
managed to obtain copies of the testing material in advance so he could copy
answers. I discovered this evidence in his room when he invited me over to
celebrate his new position and when I approached him about it, he assaulted
me.’ He finishes his rehearsed speech trying to look ashamed and sad at the
turn of events, but the King can see the smug glint still in his eyes.
‘I have spoken with Mr. Scientia, who is currently hospitalized and unable to
attend the hearing. As his Guardian I have authority to speak for him on this
matter…’ he is interrupted before he can continue by Cromwell, who now seems a
little less composed with the knowledge Ignis is in the hospital, undoubtedly
because there’s no hiding the evidence of his actions there.’ Your Majesty, if
I may, perhaps it’s best this meeting wait until Mr. Scientia has recovered
enough to stand for himself.’
‘Yeah you’d like that wouldn’t you, bastard. It’d give you a chance to
intimidate him into silence to try and save your sorry ass,’Regis thinks to
himself as he glares down at Mr. Cromwell. ‘I believe my own judgment serves
best here,’ the King says flatly, daring the man to argue. He just bows his
head and gestures that they proceed. ‘As I was saying, I have brought the
accusation to Mr. Scientia, and he counters that you have been demanding sexual
favors from him under threat of you falsifying evidence to prevent his
advancement to the advisor position. I have looked over both your evidence and
the footage from the security camera in the hallway outside Mr. Scientia’s door
and presented it to the council. It has been decided after careful deliberation
that you, Ashton Cromwell, be branded as a traitor to the crown for the crimes
of rape, child abuse, and forgery and be banished from the Kingdom for the rest
of your life. Clarus, if you would.’
The brutish bodyguard happily forces Cromwell to his knees and cuffs his hands
behind his back as he stammers and tries to argue. When they get into the
holding area Clarus can’t resist forcing the man against the wall and driving a
solid elbow into his stomach. ‘You sick fuck, forcing yourself on a kid like
that. You’re lucky castration was outlawed as a punishment,’ Clarus drives his
knee into Cromwell’s groin to make his point and stands glaring down at him
waiting for the man to answer. ‘He wanted it. He always wanted it, I just moved
it along because he was too much of a little chickenshit to do it himself,’
Cromwell coughs out and Clarus punches him square in the face, knocking him out
and probably re-breaking his nose.  He spits down on him and leaves him there,
wishing he could break him more.
Outside the cell Regis waits with a knowing smile on his face. ‘How’d it feel?’
he asks. Clarus smirks and answers, ‘fantastic’. ‘Would that I could have done
it myself….’ Regis trails off, though he knows there is nothing he could do to
the man to repair the damage he’s done to the fragile boy so close to his
heart. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Clarus, I need to talk to my son,’ Regis pauses
for a moment and says in a quieter voice, ‘You should talk to your children as
well. I don’t think I could ever handle this again in my lifetime.’ Clarus bows
his head, and his expression saddens, ‘I don’t think I have to worry too much
about Gladio, but Iris….’ Pain flashes behind his eyes at the thought of his
own children enduring that kind of torment. ‘I don’t know how the kid did it,’
he whispers. Regis puts a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, ‘Force of love
can endure any hardship.’  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
Regis takes a deep breath and knocks on the door to his son’s room. He hears
the easy shout of “Yeah, come in” over the noise of some sort of game and it
warms his heart that Noctis, at least, still holds pieces of his childhood.
Noctis seems stunned when he walks in the room. ‘Dad!’ he shouts, pausing the
game and rising off the couch to meet his father. ‘Is something wrong?’ he asks
when he sees the King’s expression, and the deep sadness in his eyes. His
father grabs him into a fierce hug that is almost crushing and Noctis thinks he
feels him crying, but chalks it up to imagination. He’s still afraid of what’s
happening when his father says, ‘Sit down with me son, I need to talk to you.’
He shuts the TV off and sits on the couch next to his father who grabs his hand
and holds it gently.
‘Noctis, I’m afraid to tell you that Ignis is in the hospital. He took a few
too many sleeping pills and almost slipped into a coma, but he’s awake now and
it looks he will be physically fine in another day or so.’ Regis watches as
Noctis’ face flashes with several emotions and he only utters a startled,
‘what!?!’He’s not stupid, and that’s a vast understatement for Ignis, so he
knows automatically that the overdose was no accident. ‘What else?’ Noctis
asks, knowing there is more to this judging by his father’s mannerisms.
‘Ignis told me that you caught him and tutor engaged in some….elicit actions
the other night and said some harsh words to him regarding his intentions as
your advisor. Would you please tell me where you ever got the idea that Ignis
was working only for personal gain?’ Regis asks him a little harshly and Noctis
bows his head in shame. ‘I-It’s just……I hear people talk all the time when they
don’t know I’m around. They were saying things about strange marks on Iggy’s
neck and hands and how he acted kind of…weird around other people, and only
seemed to spend time with that Cromwell guy. They said things about how he
would leave the study way after his lessons were supposed to be over with his
hair and clothes all messed up. They….they said that Ignis was probably
sleeping with the guy for better grades since the advisor position is pretty
important, I guess….’
Noctis sighed deeply before continuing when his father didn’t say anything in
return. ‘And, well….Iggy never wanted to hang out anymore. He was always holed
up in his room buried in books and was really snappy and cold whenever he was
around. I didn’t want to believe anything people were saying, but it started to
seem like he only wanted the job and didn’t care about me anymore. When I saw
him with the guy I just, snapped….cause it seemed like everything was true
after all.’ Noctis gave another sad sigh and Regis pulled him closer, holding
him for a few moments before responding.
‘First off, I want you to know that Ignis cares for you a great deal, Noctis.
His love for you is only rivaled by my own,’ Regis pauses to collect himself
before continuing. ‘What you witnessed in the hallway was an act of power abuse
by a terrible man, Noct. Ignis didn’t want to do those things with him, but he
was told that he would be failed and taken away from you if he didn’t. He
endured a great deal of pain for an impossibly long time, and his strange
behavior was a result of the torment.’
Noctis’ mouth hangs open in shock, and his eyes well with tears as the weight
of the information sets in. It takes a long time before he can speak. ‘So…the
whole time…that guy was making him….Dad he was kissing him…a-and touching
him….and….. Gods I knew something was wrong but…..Dad I told him he wasn’t my
friend….and then the pills…It’s all my fault,’ Noctis finally breaks down and
starts sobbing into his father’s chest. Regis wraps his arms around his son and
rocks him steadily, comforting him and petting his hair until he settles.
‘Noctis, it’s not your fault; don’t you ever think that. The blame for all of
this lies solely on the man who committed the crime,’ Regis’ voice is firm and
laced with anger at the man who hurt his family so deeply. ‘But dad I’m his
friend,’ Noctis wails, ‘I knew something was wrong but I never told anyone. I
could have stopped it, but instead I made him almost kill himself!’ He buries
himself into his father’s side as guilty sobs again rake through him. Regis
rubs his back and speaks so softly he almost doesn’t hear it, ‘Noctis you’re
still a child, there was no way for you to fathom what was going on at the
time. If there’s anyone else at fault, it’s all the adults who noticed as well
and only spent time gossiping instead of seeking the truth. There is a hard
lesson in these events, and I can only hope everyone involved learns something
for the future.’
Regis waits until Noctis calms down again before pulling away to look him in
the eye. ‘Noctis, I want you to listen to me very carefully. If anyone ever
tries to touch you like that or make you do something that you’re uncomfortable
with, you are to fight and run away. Most of all, if something is bothering
you, and you start to feel hopeless, I always want you to talk to someone. You
are always surrounded by people who love you, and would do anything to protect
you. What happened to Ignis is something no child, or any person for that
matter, should have to endure and I want you to promise me that you will never
intentionally harm yourself for any reason. Can you do that for me, son?’
‘Yeah dad,’ Noctis gulps, ‘I promise.’ Regis pulls him into another hug until
he feels Noctis yawning against him. ‘You should get some rest son, it’s been a
hard day, for everyone,’ Noctis just nods and lets Regis lead him to the
bedroom and tuck him under the covers like when he was small. ‘Dad?’ he asks in
a tiny voice, ‘Is Iggy gonna be ok?’  Regis pets his son’s hair and smiles down
at him sadly, ‘Only time will tell, Noct, but Ignis is stronger than perhaps
any person I’ve ever met, so I believe the chances are high.’ Noctis nods and
burrows into the pillows, ‘so what did you do about the guy?’ Regis’ voice gets
low as he mutters, ‘I gave him a black brand and kicked him out of the
Kingdom.’
Noctis doesn’t pay much attention to politics, but he knows what a black brand
is. It’s a fate probably worse than a death sentence or a life in prison. In
prison, at least you’re fed and sheltered, but a person with a black brand is
an exile to everyone they meet and it’s nearly impossible to find work or
shelter. It doesn’t help that the mark is imbued with a special magic that
makes it burn unbearably the longer it’s covered by any sort of cloth, so
there’s no way to ever hide it. It’s reserved only for people who commit the
most heinous of crimes, and Noctis thinks it’s both ruthless and absolutely
fitting. ‘I hope you punched him too,’ Noctis says darkly into the pillow.
Regis smiles, ‘Now Noct, you know I can’t do that. Violence from the King
against a subject is unbecoming, and something you’ll have to grow out of.’
Noctis groans and throws a blanket over his head. Regis smirks as he gets up to
leave the room, ‘Besides,’ he says from the doorway, ‘I have Clarus to do it
for me.’ Noctis peeks up at him and he laughs gently, ‘Goodnight son.’
He can’t tell him to sleep well, because he knows that it’s going to be
impossible for all of them.
 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Ignis is discharged from the hospital the next day, and is assigned a caretaker
to start checking up on him daily, along with leaving her in charge of his
sleeping medication since he really can’t rest anymore without it. He is also
told that it’s best he undergo psychiatric evaluation for the sake of his
health. He hates it but schedules an appointment anyway, figuring it’s the
least of the things he’s had to force himself to do.  
He gets back to his room and once again stands in the shower until the water
runs cold, before curling into bed. He was informed by the King on what
happened to Ashton, and he wishes he could gain satisfaction or solace from his
terrible punishment, but all he feels is tired. He waits in bed until the new
attendant brings him food and his pills, insisting that he eat before taking
them. He nibbles until he’s no longer able to stomach it, and she finally
relents and lets him rest.
He stays in bed for the next three days, only disturbed by the caretaker. He
knows he has to talk to Noctis, but can’t find the strength to face him and be
rejected again now that his friend knows how broken and dirty he is. He has to
rush into the shower whenever it crosses his mind, and he wonders how much of
his skin he will have to scrub off before the filth of Ashton’s touch is washed
away.
The medication they give him doesn’t work very well, enabling him to fall
asleep but not stay asleep, and he starts himself awake at the slightest noise.
He knows he can’t push it by saying anything, however, so he lets himself be
satisfied with the dreamless sleep he does get and deals with the nightmares or
restless silence otherwise. He’s awake when his bedroom door creeks open late
on the third night and Ignis panics, thinking impossibly that Ashton has come
back for him.
‘Iggy, are you awake?’ a small, broken voice asks from the doorway. Ignis
forces his heart to stop racing before answering, ‘Yeah Noct, I’m awake.’ He’s
almost always awake now. ‘C-can I come in?’ he asks softly, sounding so unsure
of himself. It will always hurt him to hear Noctis in distress, so he calls
out, ‘Of course you can.’ Noctis slowly steps inside and shuts the door, taking
his time as he makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits down, and Ignis is
reminded of the time they shared this exact moment under different
circumstance. Just maybe, some things can go back to normal after all, he
thinks.
It’s quiet for a long time, neither of them having any idea what to say to the
other. Noctis starts and fails a few times, and Ignis just pulls his blanket up
to shield himself from what’s coming and listens, waiting for a cue from his
former friend. ‘Iggy…..’ Noctis breaths out, ‘I-I’m sorry.’  ‘For what?’ Ignis
asks, a little bitter. ‘Man, I knew you were going to make this hard….I’m sorry
for yelling at you, for being selfish, for not noticing how much you were
hurting, and for being the worst friend ever.’ Noct’s voice cracks near the end
of his tirade and he shoves his palms into his eyes to keep from crying.
‘You’re not the worst friend ever,’ Ignis answers softly, slowly sitting up.
‘If you were, you wouldn’t mean everything to me.’ Noctis turns his head away
and slumps his shoulders with a sad sigh, ‘I don’t deserve you as a friend,
Iggy.’ ‘Do you mean it?’ Ignis asks after a while. ‘Mean what?’ Noctis wonders,
confused. ‘That I’m your friend,’ he answers sadly. ‘Of course you are Iggy,
I’m so sorry,’ now Noctis cries. He shakes and sobs until Ignis wraps his arms
around him from behind and holds him until he stops.
‘I’m so terrible at this,’ Noctis sniffles, ‘I’m supposed to be the one doing
this for you right now.’ Ignis laughs softly and holds him tighter, ‘It’s just
my duty, Noctis.’ ‘What is?’ Noct grumbles into his chest. ‘Caring for you.
Always.’ Ignis strokes his hair as both of them cry now. His attendant finds
them the next morning curled into each other’s arms sleeping soundly. She
leaves the tray on a table and shuts the door.
The next few weeks pass by slowly. Ignis spends nearly all of his time with
Noctis laying around comfortably, doing nothing. He manages to convince the
psychiatrist that he’s not crazy and that he’s not going to do anything further
to harm himself. He has his purpose back, and that’s enough to keep him
motivated. He’s asked if he wants to talk about his experience and he declines.
That part of his life is now sealed away inside a box in the corner of his mind
and he has no intentions of ever opening it again. The staff and War Council
members tip-toe around him when he returns to work, no longer judging him with
resentful eyes. Ignis shrugs it all to the side and focuses on his tasks with
the same determination and sharp wit he’s come to be known for. It won’t do him
any good to stay broken.
A month after his hospital stay, he tells the King that he’s ready to take his
oath. Regis asks him if he’s sure and he grins and responds with “Absolutely”.
 Two days later he’s on one knee pledging his life to the crown and to Noctis.
The ring of the Lucii binds Noctis’ magic to his body and a life-long bond
between them is forged. He can feel the magic buzzing under his skin, and it’s
the proudest moment of his life.
Later on he meets with Gladiolus, the first member of Noct’s Crownsguard, to
begin combat training. He’s met on the first day with a warm smile and welcome
greeting. They’ve interacted before, mostly to share novels (Gladio had very
strange tastes in books) and talk about Noctis’ progress. ‘Ready to start?’
Gladio asks. ‘As I’ll ever be,’ Ignis responds with a smirk. Gladio laughs and
attempts to clap him on the shoulder, but Ignis flinches away. The hulking
boy’s face falls and he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ Ignis
says, looking down at the floor. He figures it will be some time before he can
stand the touch of anyone that’s not Noctis or the King.
‘Listen…uh….My dad gave me a rundown about what happened and….God I suck at
this….It’s just, training can get a little physical, ya know, and it’s ok to
tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable or anything.’ He shuffles his feet,
clearly uncomfortable with the personal conversation. ‘Thank you,’ Ignis says
with a smile. ‘Though I don’t expect you to hold back unless told otherwise,’
he says, taking a defensive stance with his chosen weapon. ‘Wouldn’t dream of
it,’ Gladio responds with a grin, and they begin.
 Later that year Noctis both starts school and manages to convince his father
to let him move out of the palace, the only covenant being that he let Ignis be
his caretaker. Noctis has no problems agreeing to that, and Ignis finds himself
forced into the roles of personal chef, housecleaner, tutor, chauffeur and
“resident nag” as Noctis puts it. He also finally makes a friend, and the
flailing ball of wild blonde energy called Prompto is soon a regular fixture in
the apartment. He likes the blonde, for the most part, though he’s very loud
and is constantly making side comments about his acquired quirks. After some
time he’s no longer bothered by the random affections the boy freely throws
around and responds with sarcasm whenever he’s asked why he wears gloves
everywhere, why he’s constantly drinking coffee, or why he bluntly refuses to
sit on the couch. It’s taken a very long time, but Ignis is finally genuinely
happy.
A year later Ignis turns eighteen. The other three want to throw a party, but
he insists on a quiet affair in the apartment. He laughs when presented with a
disastrous mess dubbed as cake and Noctis and Prompto pretend to be offended.
Gladio hands him a beer and they toast to making it though another year,
ignoring the whines of the two younger boys. They then decide to hold a
tournament of King’s Knight, declaring Ignis the judge since he adamantly
refuses to get sucked into the addicting phone game.
Later when Gladio and Prompto have left Ignis pulls a bag containing his latest
attempt at the Tenebrae tart from his things and passes it to Noctis, who
quirks an eyebrow at him. ‘You made me food on your birthday? You’re so weird,
Specs.’ Ignis just smiles to himself as he cleans up, ‘I live to serve,
Highness.’ ‘Getting closer,’ Noctis comments from on top of the counter,
happily munching on the dessert. ‘Hey Iggy,’ he says softly, getting down and
moving to where he could pull his friend into a hug, ‘thank you.’ ‘For what?’
Ignis asks. Noctis smiles up at him, ‘For always doing your duty.’
Chapter End Notes
     That got sappy super quick, but I guess based on the comments it was
     kinda needed. It wasn't my intention so turn this fic into a PSA, but
     it went there and I'm not sorry. Listen to Regis people, his advice
     is important! Ok I'm done.
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