Chapter Text
For all the downsides, Ignis knows, one of the benefits of being so tightly tied to Noct is that planning holidays becomes a lot easier, logistics-wise at least.
‘Trust me, I’ll sort it out,’ Gladio says, and Prompto nods doubtfully. ‘They’re used to just me and Iggy going with him. They’ll be gagging to have a third Crownsguard come with.’
‘It’s true,’ Noct says. ‘They won’t get off my back. You’d think I wanted to go fuck around in Niflheim or something.’
‘Which you’re not, you’re going to be fucking around in North Cavaugh, where it’s safe. Great,’ Gladio says before Prompto can interject with any more doubts. ‘All right, when?’
‘Specs?’ Noct looks over to Ignis, where he’s standing in the kitchen, washing rice to soak. Ignis looks down at the rice, and a wave of nerves and dread rushes him like a sparring partner taking him off guard, even though he can’t be off guard because he’s been anticipating this for weeks now.
‘You could have three weeks in late August, early September, if you rearrange a couple of things,’ he says. The rice is washed but he doesn’t want to stop and risk catching anyone’s eye.
‘Hold up,’ Gladio says. ‘August? He has a whole load of nothing in June.’
‘Well, yes,’ Ignis says, and tries to keep his voice calm and normal, but his heart is racing and he can feel sweat prickle in his armpits and on his back. ‘But I’m afraid I’ll be otherwise occupied then.’
Both Gladio and Noct turns to look at him then, because it’s not normal for Ignis to be busy with things that aren’t directly related to Noct. Not since he finished university, at any rate. Prompto, sensing something wrong, turns and stares as well.
‘You haven’t told me about this,’ Noct says, accusing.
‘Well, yes,’ Ignis says, and he needs to say it — he just needs to open his mouth and say it, but it’s not coming out, as if the few extra seconds of not having to say it will mean anything at all.
‘What’s up, Iggy?’ Gladio says, voice careful in a way that makes everything worse.
‘I’m afraid I’ll be rather busy in June,’ Ignis says. ‘I’m getting married.’
It doesn’t feel better now he’s said it, like a weight taken off his chest. If anything it feels worse, because now the extra weights of Noct, Gladio and Prompto’s reactions and expectations are on him, too.
‘I’m sorry, what?’ Prompto says, and his voice is raised like he’s about to laugh, but he doesn’t. He goes quiet suddenly, and Ignis can only imagine he caught sight of Noct or Gladio’s expressions.
‘Who to?’ Gladio says. He says it casually, like it’s no big deal.
‘It’s not going to take more than a few days,’ Ignis says. ‘But unfortunately it coincides with the middle of when you’re free, Noct. I could leave you all to it and make the side trip to and from Insomnia by myself, but I flatter myself to think we’d prefer to go when I’m available.’
‘Yeah, but who to?’ Gladio says.
‘Carcer,’ Ignis says.
‘Your uncle?’
‘Yes,’ Ignis says, and washes and dries his hands so he can put the rice in the fridge. Behind him he hears movement and the slamming of a door; when he turns back Noct is gone.
Prompto is twisted to look at Noct’s bedroom door, but he looks back, glancing between Ignis and Gladio, wide-eyed. ‘No, wait,’ he says. His face is caught halfway to a nervous grin, like he still can’t quite tell if it’s a joke or not. ‘What? Your uncle? No, I’m sorry, but—’
‘It’s purely political,’ Ignis says, because of course Prompto didn’t grow up in this environment, so it would come as a shock to him more than any of them. ‘Carcer is my mother’s second cousin. As it turns out, Iudex, our head of the household, has decided that her cousin’s branch of the family, which is to say the branch that ends with me, is rather too well off. This marriage will end her cousin’s line as there will be no children, and more importantly move her wealth back to the main line by moving me to their family registry.’
‘Yeah, but your uncle? Sorry, but that’s just… I mean, they can’t make you do that, right? How old is he? Why can’t you just leave all your stuff to them in your will?’
It’s at once calming to lay everything out in clinical, logical terms, and frustrating that he’s having to dwell on it. He wants to go check on Noct, though he knows it will be better to leave him for at least a few more moments before interrupting him. ‘Wills can be contested, especially if I have children. Marriage, especially a childless one, is the easiest, most risk-free method of transferring wealth.’
‘But—’
‘Prompto.’ Gladio cuts in, hard and flat. Prompto shuts up. ‘Iggy, you need anything, you know we have your back.’
‘Thank you,’ Ignis says. The next few moments are a struggle; he can’t tell if he wants to keep talking about it or not. He hasn’t told anyone, and it’s been over two weeks since he’d been called to the family home and told the news.
‘It really shouldn’t change anything,’ Ignis says. ‘As I said, it’s political. I will have to move back into one of the family homes for a while, for their peace of mind I suppose, but nothing else need change.’
‘Still,’ Gladio says, ‘it’s shitty. Sorry, Iggy.’
‘We all have to make our sacrifices. This one is not so bad.’
Noct, of course, will have an arranged marriage. The only real option for him is the Lady Lunafreya, however, and if he had anyone in the world to choose from, Ignis imagines he’d choose her. Gladio has dated before, and it’s Ignis’ impression that the woman he will eventually settle down with in order to carry on the Amicitia line will be heavily vetted, but a woman Gladio has chosen nonetheless. A woman who has chosen Gladio. Prompto is not nobility, and his parents are so absent from his life that Ignis cannot imagine a scenario where they would wish to have a say in his marriage prospects.
Until a few weeks ago, Ignis had thought himself to be similarly lucky.
‘So,’ Ignis says, ‘August-September for camping, then? Any specific dates?’
‘I’ll be good to follow Noct’s time off,’ Gladio says, then looks pointedly at Prompto. ‘And Prompto will too, so whenever you and Noct can scrape together a week or two.’
‘We should time it for the new moon,’ Ignis says, leaning against the counter on his elbows. ‘To give the best conditions for stargazing.’
‘Uh,’ Prompto says, ‘isn’t that dangerous? Walking around at night outside Insomnia?’
Gladio slaps Prompto on the back hard enough to jolt him forwards, almost straight out of the chair. ‘Scared?’
‘Well duh,’ Prompto says. ‘Daemons. I didn’t sign up to die horribly so our buddy Noct could practice his amateur astronomy.’
‘No one will die,’ Ignis says, but just Noct’s name has his eyes flickering to Noct’s bedroom door. He had known it would be a blow to Noct — another thing coming between their friendship, alongside duty and long hours of work and the unequivocal finality of their respective ranks, but also as a reminder of Noct’s own future loss of autonomy. He still hadn’t expected it to hit quite this hard.
Arranged marriages are common. In many ways a marriage to his uncle is better than many other potential matches, because there will be no expectation of intimacy, monogamy, and children, all of which Ignis would struggle with given a female partner. It will be in his uncle’s interest, and their family’s interest, for Ignis to continue working for Noct and making a good name for himself. It will be political, a matter of paperwork only, and Gladio knows that. Prompto can be persuaded once he’s become accustomed to the thought of political marriage. Noct should know it, and know that this is the best marriage for his and Ignis’ relationship, whatever form it might take. So why is he so upset?
What does he know?
Noct’s name has them all subdued, reminding them of his absence. If Gladio hadn’t also been so taken aback by the news, Ignis imagines he would have gone in there and dragged Noct out.
It bothers Ignis that he’s the cause of this, the split in their ranks, the loss of their previous good mood. ‘Let me check on Noct,’ he says, undoing his apron and leaving it slung over a dining table chair. No one stops him, or makes any indication they think it’s a good idea.
Ignis knocks on Noct’s door gently, and when Noct doesn’t reply he lets himself in. Noct is on the bed, lying back with his legs off the side. One arm is covering his face. He doesn’t move when Ignis sits down beside him, leaning back, propped up on his hands.
‘I’m sorry, Noct. That was a terrible way to break the news.’
Noct makes a faint, grumbling sigh and doesn’t uncover his eyes. ‘It’s fine,’ he says, which would be an obvious and fake platitude even had Ignis not known him for sixteen years.
‘I won’t let it come between us,’ Ignis tries. ‘My uncle was the one who pushed me into this career; he won’t do anything to jeopardize it.’
‘No, I know,’ Noct says.
‘Is this anything to do with your future marriage?’
‘No,’ Noct says, and lies there in silence. Ignis wonders if he should leave him on his own for a while longer, or perhaps try to change the topic. He can hear Gladio speak, quiet, through the door.
‘It’s just—’ Noct says, his mouth twisting in unhappiness. ‘Your uncle.’
Something cold runs through Ignis, a shock like a kick to the gut. He can’t speak; he doesn’t know what to say.
‘Are you okay with it?’ Noct says.
‘It’s a political marriage,’ Ignis says, automatic and easy. ‘Of course it’s not what I’d choose, but what can I do? At least in this instance I will be able to continue working with you. It will prevent me from marrying in the future, but little else will change.’
‘Yeah,’ Noct says, ‘but—’ He stops himself. ‘No, whatever, it’s fine. Sorry I busted out of the conversation like that.’
‘Would you like to come back in? We’re talking about the camping.’
‘Gladio’s gonna be a bitch about it.’
‘I’ll make sure he isn’t.’
‘Tch.’ Noct lifts his arm from his face. His eyes meet Ignis’ for a moment, then quickly look away. ‘He’ll just ride my ass when you’re not around.’
‘Noct, I’m sorry.’
‘What are you sorry for? You’re the one…’ Noct stops talking and gets up, making the bed bounce. ‘Are you sure? You can’t rules lawyer your way out of it?’
‘You know my family,’ Ignis says, aware that Noct, as a matter of fact, doesn’t — at least not more than any other Insomnian nobility. He has met Ignis’ family because the Scientias are old, influential and wealthy. He has not met them because they are Ignis’ family. ‘What they say goes.’
‘Have you even tried to argue it?’
‘No, but—’ Ignis stands and goes over to Noct, touching his hand to Noct’s shoulder. ‘Come, Noct. You know there’s nothing I can do. Nothing will change, truly.’
Noct shrugs off Ignis’ hand. He pointedly doesn’t look Ignis in the eye as he turns and goes to leave. ‘Whatever. Let’s just go back in then.’
‘Got over your lover’s spat?’ Gladio says, as soon as the door is open. ‘Did Iggy suck you off to make you feel better?’
‘For gods’ sake, don’t be crude,’ Ignis snaps. Prompto’s eyes are open wide, and Ignis wonders if Gladio had been complaining about Noct to him.
‘It’s not all about you, you know,’ Gladio says, continuing, and Ignis hadn’t accounted for him being this upset as well. ‘Iggy’s the one getting married off and it’s your feelings we have to coddle?’
‘Gladio, I don’t need defending.’ Ignis moves to stand in front of Gladio, forcing him to look up to meet his eyes. Behind him, Noct slinks out and slouches next to Prompto on the sofa, getting out his phone. ‘Not from Noct, and not from my family. So please, if you do actually have my best interests at heart, keep your opinions to yourself next time.’
Gladio scowls. ‘Fine,’ he said, and grunts. ‘Sorry. I just—’
‘Just nothing,’ Ignis says, but softens it, because he does mean to keep the peace and not start another argument. ‘If I need your help I’ll ask for it.’
‘Alright,’ Gladio says, looking down at his hands before glancing back at Ignis. ‘Got it. You’re right, just hearing it so suddenly...’ He waves his hand in the air in a gesture of wordlessness. ‘You get what I mean. One last question then I’ll drop it: what’s the date?’
‘The third of June.’
‘Auspicious.’
‘Don’t joke,’ Noct snaps. ‘Weren’t we meant to be planning the camping?’
‘We were,’ Ignis says. ‘And because I believe it’s my right in this instance to have the last word — it’s a paper marriage. The worst of it is that I won’t be able to have any children, but the gods know I spend enough time looking after you three that that won’t matter in the slightest.’
Prompto laughs, short and bitten off at the end, more an expression of surprise than humour. Gladio smiles next, reluctant and stiff, but still a smile nonetheless. Noct does nothing, doesn’t even look up from his phone screen, but Ignis hadn’t expected him to.
‘Very well. We’re splitting our stay between one of the beach havens and a forest one with access to a lake or river, I assume we all agree?’
‘Yep,’ Noct says, at the same time as Prompto says: ‘Like we have any choice.’
‘None,’ Noct says, and the deadpan way he says it makes Prompto and Gladio both laugh.
It eases something in Ignis’ chest. He hates being pitied — he cannot stand it. If he can keep his relationships with his friends unchanged, then managing everything else might be possible. If they pity him, he thinks he won’t be able to face them again, and that more than anything will be disastrous.
‘How do you feel about renting chocobos?’ Ignis says, and sits down beside Gladio as Prompto whoops. Gladio’s skin is warm, his body solid and strong.
‘Fuck yeah,’ Prompto says, and Ignis opens up a tab on his phone for chocobo rental.