Chapter Text
When Insomnia falls, it brings destruction in its wake. The King forewarned Ignis and Gladio spirit Noctis away from the city, but the Empire struck during the arrangements. Ignis feels he has failed as the prince’s confidant, as his advisor and friend in preventing the tragedy befalling Insomnia. For Noctis to suffer once more, Ignis hoped he never had to witness another incident that could possibly leave the prince comatose.
“Noctis.” Ignis says softly, a hand on the prince’s shoulder for a semblance of comfort he knows would never suffice in the wake of the horror splayed on the television. “We must make haste out of Insomnia.”
“What’re you saying?” Noctis shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes wide. “Dad’s still here, I should be there.”
Ignis sees the fear reflected in Noctis’ eyes, the same expression he shared with him several years ago when he unintentionally pushed him to admit King Regis’ imminent death. “I am aware.” He agrees and sighs. “But Clarus and Drautos are there in attendance, they would never allow His Majesty to come to harm.”
“Yeah, I know.” Noctis agrees bitterly. “But…” He trails off, the unspoken dread lingering between them.
“Noctis.” Ignis says calmly, expressing his sincere sympathy. “My duty is to His Majesty, yes, but also to you.”
The quiver of Noctis’ lips is a sign Ignis can offer no words of comfort that can prompt him to gather his belongings and make their way to the Star of Lucis parked outside. No, instead, the world comes crashing down on them. Ignis hears the deafening sounds of explosions, the building’s structure shaking from the nearby impact.
“Now, Noctis.” Ignis urgently grabs the prince by the hand. Hypothetical situations Cor scripted for the Crowns Guard to be rehearsed in how to act accordingly are more difficult to carry out when Ignis has to spur Noctis into action. “We have to go.”
Noctis snaps out of his trance, brow furrowed as he nods fervently. “Bastards.” He curses from over the chaos surrounding them as they make it to the car. “Specs, I have to get to my dad, he has the ring.”
King Regis’ power to protect Insomnia is nearing its limit. Conjuring the Old Wall might prevent Niflheim from advancing further and possibly stopping the attack altogether, but the King’s failing strength left him with only one option: surrender. For Noctis to equip the ring, no, His Majesty would never allow it.
Ignis remains quiet, considering choosing his words carefully as he starts the car and waits until Noctis is securely sitting in the passenger seat before speeding down the streets. “Listen to me.” He keeps his eyes trained on the street, the horror slowly unraveling as Niflheim ships fly overhead. “His Majesty ordered for us to procure your safety by all means possible. Do you understand, Noctis?”
“Yeah.” Noctis says quietly, his hands clenched tightly on the armrests of his seat. “Doesn’t mean I like it or want to. Head to the Citadel, that’s an order, Ignis.”
Ignis is about to protest, explain the dangers to the prince in hopes he might see reason, but a piercing screech over has him nearly slamming the breaks. Daemons within Insomnia is a scene reserved for nightmares, not reality as Ignis notices the New Wall is gone. Lucis is at the mercy of its invader.
“Faster!” Noctis demands once they reach the bridge.
“Trying, Your Highness.” Ignis bites back, his foot on the accelerator pressing further until it reaches the floor. Concentrate, he chants in his mind as a mantra to stay composed for Noctis. Except it becomes increasingly difficult to drive when Noctis shouts something unintelligible for Ignis to look out the window.
Lucian history is shrouded in mystery, some stories convoluted or lost throughout the passage of time. Ignis once questioned the legitimacy of myths, wondered if the magic of the Crystal had its limitations, but as the image of the burning city imprints itself in his mind, the monstrosity of a daemon is fighting against a mighty statue of a Lucian King. “The Old Wall…” He utters in awe though the moment is short lived as he realizes what the summoning of an ancient power entailed.
King Regis fell in battle. Ignis grips the wheel tightly, burying the grief as he sees Noctis transfixed by the scene from the corner of his eye. Taking Noctis to the Citadel is no longer a viable option. The statues were meant to protect the city from peril, but Ignis knows they are stalling for Noctis to escape.
Ignis continues to drive, heart clenching painfully as he hears Noctis’ wracked sobs. Nothing can console the prince who has lost both his home and father in a single night.
“Fuck.” Noctis slams his hand against the car door. “Why did he do it? He should’ve said no!”
Ignis sighs, masking his own apprehension. “Noctis.” He murmurs sympathetically, understanding the burden resting on the prince’s shoulders. “His Majesty was aware the Empire had no intentions of collaboration.”
“Then why?! What was the point of being engaged to Luna?!” Noctis places a hand over his eyes as he tried concealing his tears.
“I believe his hope was to save you both. As long as the ring is out of enemy hands, you can claim it, but we must retreat.” Ignis has to resist the urge to pull over, to comfort Noctis through his natural instincts of an alpha, but instead he presses forward towards the closest exit he knows out of the city.
The Crowns Guard is prepared for situations such as these. As grisly as the scenarios Cor conjured, Ignis had to adhere to what they agreed would be best in protecting Regis and Noctis. If Regis died, the fate of the world rested on Noctis and their priority would shift to the prince.
“And go where?” Noctis sniffs, face contorted in pain.
“There are safehouses Cor established throughout Eos for us to rendezvous. Keeping you hidden may prove challenging.” Ignis isn’t sure how long Noctis can last without suppressants to cover his omega scent or if these safehouses have the necessary supplies to tend to the prince’s needs.
“Okay.” Noctis lets out a shaky breath, his voice cracking. “Okay.” He repeats, clutching at his chest.
More Kings are joining the fight, taking down Niflheim ships with their weapons from legends. Insomnia’s elegant buildings crash down leaving nothing behind but ash and fire in the wake of daemons destroying centuries of Lucian architect. It’s painful, more than Ignis can admit as he gingerly places one hand on top of Noctis’ head.
“I promise, no harm shall come to you.” Ignis vows as he suppresses the lump in his throat down.
The prince offers no reply, his silence is understandable given the circumstances, though Ignis feels him relax ever so slightly. As long as Noctis is alive, there is hope for the future.
To reach the border, Ignis has to take a detour through the intricate streets that make up the district of immigrants. Normally that poses no issue, except the closer they linger in the midst of the chaos swirling through the heart of the city, Ignis knows they are bound to run into Imperial forces. His plan is to at least secure an escape through the underground tunnels if need be.
Noctis’ phone breaks the silence between them, ringing and with Cor’s name popping up on the screen below the dashboard.
“Your Highness?” Cor says on the other end, his voice strained yet relieved when he hears Noctis answer.
“Yeah…” Noctis presses his forehead against the window, closing his eyes and breathing raggedly.
“Where are you?”
“Heading to the north exit. I do not know how much longer we can go undetected.” Ignis answers for Noctis, aware he was in no condition to converse with Cor.
“Not for long.” Cor sighs. “Niflheim has issued an executive order for His Highness’s capture.”
Some fates are worse than death. Ignis cannot imagine Noctis living a life in captivity, he would soon offer himself up in the prince’s stead.
“My duty is to protect Noct. I will see that he makes it out of Insomnia.” Ignis swore the oath to be a servant to the Crownsguard, his role goes beyond an adviser to the future King. “If I may ask, what of Lady Lunafreya?”
“Our com systems with the Glaive His Majesty sent to secure her safety went dark. We don’t know where she is, except…” Cor pauses, possibly refraining himself from speaking more than he should given that Noctis is currently processing the death of his father.
“His Majesty placed his trust in Nyx Ulric. I suggest we do the same. Ignis, there are troops coming your way, if it comes to it, abandon the car and head to the tunnels. The Empire won’t stop until they claim Noctis. We can meet up later, don’t stop running.”
The line goes dead before Ignis is given a chance to inquire more of what Cor may be planning. Ignis sees the worry etched on Noctis’ face for Luna. Perhaps he held no romantic love for her, but it is no surprise the prince did, yearn for her friendship and affection.
“Noct, will you be able to fight?” Ignis asks, starting to formulate various scenarios that he may have to resort to avoid the Empire. “Time is of essence, the longer we linger in Insomnia, the likelihood of our enemies finding you increases.”
Noctis pinches the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed as he attempts to compose himself. “I’m ready to give ‘em hell.” He finally says. Mourning would have to wait.
Fighting is their way out of the city provides grim prospects of making it out unscathed. Ignis has perhaps a few potions to aid their benign wounds, but anything more serious would require medical assistance. The Empire left them unprepared, outnumbered, and out outgunned.
Lights above them are the first indication the Niflheim ships have found them. A luxury car meant for a casual cruise through the polished cities of Lucis had no protective covering from a hail of bullets raining over them. Warning shots, Ignis thinks, otherwise the enemy would have resorted to heavier fire.
Ignis takes a sharp right turn, heading deeper into the city hoping to lose their stalkers through the towering buildings. Maneuvering a ship through such close quarters granted Ignis more opportunities to avoid their enemy, but the tunnels are ways off from his current location.
“Got any ideas, Specs?” Noctis asks, searching through his backpack frantically for some form of weapon, though nothing inside is for fending off war ships.
“We lose the car.” Ignis laments the thought of the Star of Lucis, a gift from the King to his son, to be used as a decoy, but Noctis’ life took precedence over sentimental objects.
Noctis bites his lower lip, obviously trying his hardest not to refuse the suggestion. “Then what? Make a run for it?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Ignis agrees, checking the review mirror, as he mentally starts counting down. “Warp, out of the car, Noct. I can give you a head start, make your way down towards the market distri-“
“Fuck that!” Noctis proclaims, eyes wide. “They’ll kill you!” He grips at Ignis’ shirt in desperation.
“Perhaps.” Ignis says, low, though guilt grips him. “Insomnia is lost. The Empire has more or less dethroned you, as things stand, fleeing is your only option. You must live. Go now.”
Noctis grits his teeth and glares at Ignis. “No.” Is all Ignis hears the prince utter until the car door opens and he sees Noctis summon his engine blade and warp out of the car. Part of him is relieved Noctis is listening without putting up much of a fight, and the other regrets parting from him.
Ignis leads the ships away from Noctis, knowing if he reaches the underpass they will corner him. “Take care Your Highness.” He prays softly, hoping the Six are listening. The ship drops the mechs equipped with heavy artillery, shooting dangerously close enough to have Ignis come to a halt as one stops him from going further.
Lights shine upon him, blinding him briefly until he sees an array of lasers pointed at him. For now he must play along, keep the enemy busy while Noctis makes his way to the tunnels. Ignis takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as he steps out of the car with his hands raised above his head.
Ignis turns as he hears the sound of heavy footsteps and he recognizes the man despite the years that have passed. Twelve years and Prince Ravus aged with grace, resembling every bit royalty with his air of arrogance. “Prince Ravus.” Ignis greets the man pleasantly. “Surely you have more pressing matters to attend than to command an entire squadron against a lowly commoner.”
“A lowly commoner? You jest, Ignis Scientia. From what I’m told the prince holds you in high regard.” Ravus sneers, motioning for the MTs to lower their guns. “Where is he? Cowering in fear like a child?”
Ignis resists the urge to return an insult, instead he musters the courage to continue speaking. “Let us speak plainly. What do you to intend to do with Noctis?”
Ravus paces forward, then stops in front of Ignis, a hand on the helm of his sword. “I’ve long thought of our reunion. Admittedly, my interest is purely political as it is to use my position to take the Lucian throne.”
Ignis can feel his cool demeanor starting to slip when he can scent Ravus, knows he is challenging him as another Alpha for a demonstration of power. The pieces start to fall into place. “Who told you?” He takes a more aggressive stance though without a weapon his chances of winning are slim.
“My dear sister. How fitting that the Chosen King is an omega.” Ravus says venomously, unreserved on his stance of natural selection. “His brief engagement to my sister was for naught. However, I believe to be a more suitable candidate.”
In historical texts, omegas were often claimed during conquests. Lucis banned such practices centuries ago, the Kings that liberated lands from the Empire granted omegas their freedom without forcing them into unwanted bonds. For Ravus to bond with Noctis, Ignis could think of no crueler fate for the prince.
“Do you hate Noctis that much?” Ignis prepares himself, feeling the tension between them escalating. “I can assure you the prince would never settle for less.”
The sting of the slap is enough of an incentive for Ignis to lunge at Ravus, a primal instinct to protect an omega and demonstrate his strength is overpowering, but he steels himself. “Where is he? I can smell him on you, but I am not foolish enough to believe he is in the car.” Ravus draws his sword and presses it against Ignis’ neck threateningly. “I will not ask again.”
“Right here, asshole.”
In a fraction of second, Noctis is behind Ravus, pointing the tip of his sword at the back of his neck. “Noct, I told you to run!” Ignis meets Noctis’ gaze, seeing nothing more than a smug grin he sincerely wants to throttle him for.
“Too bad, Specs. You know I don’t listen to you.” Noctis says without offering an apology. “We’re in this together and we’re getting out of it together.”
“Noctis, you need to leave. Ravus intends to claim as you as his own.” Ignis explains, perhaps the prince would see reason, understand the danger he was in.
For a moment, Noctis loses his concentration, clearly surprised by the revelation that Ravus is privy to his biological nature. It serves as a sufficient distraction for Ravus to knock the Engine Blade from Noctis’ grasp and take a hold of him. “Suppressants can only prevent the inevitable for so long.” Ravus’ fingers ghost over Noctis’ scent gland on the crook of his neck, causing the prince to still.
With Noctis now in his proximity, Ignis is able to summon his daggers. “Let him go.” Ignis commands, helpless as the lasers are trained back on him.
“How pitiful. It must be fate you will fail in protecting the Chosen King.” Ravus secures an arm around Noctis.
“I can handle myself.” Noctis growls out, as he slips a leg under Ravus’ and pulls him forward. He stumbles, but warps out of his grasp in time to stand back to back with Ignis. “You wanna trash talk but you’re the Empire’s dog now.”
“I command.” Ravus unsheathes his sword, face contorting to pure rage. “King Regis is dead, the Astrals abandoned you, Noctis. For you will be the one serving me.”
Noctis warps towards the infantry, cutting through the flanks with grace as Ignis is left to fight with Ravus. Through arduous training both alone or his tutors, Ignis knows Ravus wields an inhuman strength that his own pales in comparison to.
“Tell me, Scientia, can you live with Noctis wanting only me? To see him writhe as nothing more than a common whore and bare my children?” Ravus mocks, smile twisted as his sword clashes against Ignis’ daggers.
“Come what may, I will never allow it. Noctis has never been forced to uphold outdated traditional values.” Ignis struggles against Ravus, the blade inches from his face.
“Believe what you want.” Ravus snides with every intent to kill Ignis. “Noctis will be mine.”
Noctis directs the lasers towards him, shooting as many enemies as possible, baring the wounds inflected from bullets grazing him. His is slowly approaching his limit, stamina depleting the more he warps and avoids the mechs from switching targets from him to Ignis. A grin splays across his face as he leads one mech to explode, feeling rather elated, he feels more confidant he can take on the other mech, but seeing a sniper aiming for Ignis has him spiraling toward his adviser and taking the hit on his shoulder.
“Enough!” Ravus commands. “Prince Noctis is to be taken alive!”
Ignis is able to break apart, his dagger finding its mark to Ravus’ arm that leaves the man seething in pure anger. Orders are shouted, but they fall deaf to Ignis as he runs to Noctis who is on the floor, clasping his shoulder and in pain.
“Iggy, it’s okay, I’ll stay behind.” Noctis pants. “Knowing Gladio, he’ll storm the place up to rescue me.”
“This is no time for jokes.” Ignis frowns as he inspects the wound. It is evident that Noctis is out of the fight, he cannot warp or hold his blade. “I…” He cups the prince’s chin and cradles him in his arms. “I took a vow to protect you.” He mumbles.
Ravus is closing in on them, in a second the prince will pierce Ignis with his blade and leave him for dead. Noctis would be reduced to no more than a prize of the Empire for conquering Lucis. Ignis grips Noctis’ hand, squeezing it gently as he inhales sharply. The option may save or doom them, but it is his last resort.
Ignis raised Noctis, became both a mentor and in a sense a beacon for affection the prince yearned for. Above all else, they are friends from childhood sharing mutual trust. Years of discussing Noctis presenting to an omega led to Ignis ultimately stating the prince should decide for himself which alpha would be worthy to rule at his side. A bond is unbreakable, and Noctis would forever seek the Alpha who claims him.
In the given situation, Noctis has no other way out. Ignis can provide him with the comfort knowing he may be tied to his best friend for life rather than the man who plotted a conspiracy to kill his father and destroy his home. Ignis presses his forehead against Noctis, his fingers soothingly massaging his neck as he starts to lean forward. “Noctis. Relax, I may have a way for us to escape.”
Noctis is losing blood, his voice is a faint whisper that Ignis can’t quite catch what he says. The act alone of an Alpha caressing his neck is relieving his tension and discomfort though the stimulation is hardly prepares Noctis for the next onslaught of pain.
Ignis tentatively places his lips against the slender neck, detecting the faintest hint of a sweet scent that is obscured by drugs. The world stops around him as he murmurs a sincere apology and sinks his teeth into Noctis’ neck.
Noctis cries out in agony, his nails scratch against Ignis as he kicks his feet wildly. The distress rolls off from him in waves, but Ignis can do nothing to console him. “I-Ignis..” Noctis gasps weakly, he is trying to push him off.
Ignis feels the shift between them, the transitioning of a bondless omega to the one his body would ache for, and drugs can never work on Noctis, not with Ignis in proximity exerting his own scent. It becomes overwhelming, as Noctis lays limp in his arms and he can detect the drugs being flushed out of Noctis by his hormones chemically becoming compatible with Ignis’.
“Kill them!” Ravus demands, nostrils flaring from realizing Ignis is bonding with Noctis, taking what was rightfully his.
Ignis wonders if his efforts are for naught, except the shot of a gun pierces everything to halt. He hesitates to part from Noctis, but the prince has passed out in his arms from his injury and the glaring imprint on his neck.
“Now, now, Ravus. That is far enough.” Chancellor Izunia steps forward, twirling the gun before handing it back to an MT. “Our dear Prince Noctis is lost to us for the moment. Be patient.” He earns a disgusted look from Ravus, but he eventually sheathes his blade once more. “Can you imagine no such bitter betrayal of being forcibly bonded by the person you trust the most?” Ardyn laughs and tips his hat. “The path shall be cleared for you, safe travels. Come along, Ravus. I hear your sister has made it out of the city.”
Ravus appears disgruntled, nuanced by the appearance of the Chancellor, though he complies grudgingly. “Wherever you go, the Empire will follow.” He warns and smiles slyly. “Protecting the prince, your words are nothing more than just wind.”
Ignis watches as Ravus and the troops retreat. He breaths in a sigh of relief, wondering if the Six are responsible for granting them another chance of escape. As suspicious as it is for the Chancellor to allow them passage out of Insomnia, at the moment Ignis is willing to take the risk. He carefully hoists Noctis into his arm, carrying him, noticing his travel out of the city is to be on foot.
Dawn is creeping above the walls of Insomnia, drawing the daemons back into crevices to hide from the light. The remnants of the Old Wall consist of ash and fire as Ignis joins the influx of survivors walking towards the exit. None of them take notice of Noctis, the trauma of losing loved ones and their home preoccupies their thoughts. Ignis closes his eyes momentarily, bracing himself for the new day.