Chapter Text
Money ruled everything. It wasn’t something new, some mind-blowing revelation. Ignis knew it from the time he was appointed as adviser to the Prince. Money brought power, protection, and sometimes love. He knew it and he wasn’t bothered by it. There wasn’t much that phased him when it came to the upper echelons of Insomnian society. The parties were always an exercise in how much he could stomach. He couldn’t count on his fingers how many councilmen he had to escort to the front steps of the Citadel nor the amount of taxis he had to summon for sex workers stranded afterwards. He felt a kinship to them; seeing the seedy side of the Citadel and having to keep it quiet.
Secrets were a commodity. They were also currency in the right circles. Ignis had accumulated so many and every once in awhile would use one as leverage if a haughty ambassador tried to act up. However, he had his own secrets as well.
There was a club he frequented on Saturday nights, long after Noctis was settled in and not liable to call him for something. He had received the invite to the elite gentleman’s club from a visiting Altissian delegate who deemed him worthy. When he showed the black embossed envelope to the doorman, he was allowed entrance to a world that he had only been allowed to observe. Now he was touching it, drinking it, and talking about it with people who were above his station.
There was only one woman allowed there and she had been the topic of discussion one night.
“They only allowed her because she’s Melum’s granddaughter and she’s a loud-mouth.” The man who had spoken was a retired councilman, a stout man with a bushy white moustache and a bald head. Ignis knew he was once a Glaive and had heard he wasn’t friendly with women.
Clarus Amicitia replied, “There’s nothing wrong with her being here, Septimus. It’s because of the Melum family that we still even have this place.”
Septimus scoffed and downed the rest of his whiskey. Ignis watched the two men in silence. What could he add to the conversation? Nothing. He knew of the Melum family, knew of their immense wealth and of the young woman they spoke of even if he had never laid eyes on her. She apparently had been away in Altissia for business purposes.
“Speak of the daemon,” hissed Septimus. They followed his eyes to the entrance where a young woman stood. Ignis felt the air leave his lungs. He had been overcome by the beauty of people before, stunned into appreciative silence. This young woman wasn’t really his type, however her confidence was like a beacon. The matte red lipstick, stark against her pale skin and the cascade of deep brown hair that draped onto one shoulder and down her back. He imagined it touched the middle of her back where her tight red dress probably zipped up to. His eyes met hers and Ignis felt as if everything was falling apart slowly. An unusual sensation however she seemed an unusual woman.
“Were you talking about me again, Septimus? When are you going to stop and just enjoy the view? Looks like he has the right idea.” She gestured to Ignis. “New blood?”
Clarus nodded. “This is Ignis Scientia. He’s going to be the Prince’s adviser when he ascends.”
The woman sauntered over to him and held her hand out. Ignis took it and shook it gently. “Well, hello, handsome. I’m Tempest Melum. No doubt Septimus has told you I’m a fucking nuisance to this club of old men? Well, he’s right.” She let out a soft laugh as she sat down on Ignis’s lap. “Hope you don’t mind that I sit here. All the other seats are…used.”
Ignis gripped the arms of his chair and grunted when she shifted in his lap. “I do actually.”
“Ah, okay. Well, I’ll go sit at the bar. Come join me if these fellas become a bore. I promise I’m not boring in the least.”
By the third hour, Ignis had joined her. She chatted easily to him, not looking for someone to speak back. Just to listen. Ignis figured she enjoyed an audience and so he listened to her with only a few interjections.
“So what is it like working for the Royal Family? I mean, my granddad was a courtier and so was my dad. I don’t like all that royal shit to be honest.” She lit another cigarette. There was a small pile besides the toe of her expensive black leather stilettos.
Ignis took a deep breath, trying to capture some of the cool night air. “It’s interesting. Never a dull moment, honestly.”
Tempest nodded as she took a deep puff. “You don’t seem like the other guys that frequent this place. Amicitia is the only nice one in there really and now there’s you.”
Ignis gazed at her. “I can imagine you haven’t met people who care much for you.”
The smoke obscured her eyes, but he knew she was glaring at him. There was a heaviness to the silence between them. “You’re right, I haven’t. Never thought I’d hear that from some public servant though. Wow.”
“My apologies. I was out of line.”
“No, it’s all right. Was kind of hot to be honest.”
The last person to say anything that Ignis had done was hot, had been the florist he had dated for a month. The young man was so smitten by how Ignis would sometimes wear his hair up and remarked that he looked “hot” every time he did.
Tempest put her cigarette out and leaned close to him. “How daring are you, Ignis?”
“Not very. I don’t believe in taking unnecessary risks.” He knew she wanted something, however he wondered how long it would take her to get there.
She smiled and tossed her brown hair. “Okay.”
“If I may ask, is there a point to this?”
Her smile turned from sweet to sly and something in him stirred. “You look like a virgin. Are you?”
Ignis bristled. “No. Why are you even asking?”
“Because I want to take you to bed. I want to fuck you and I don’t want someone who doesn’t know where the clitoris is. That’s if you want to. However I’m not used to hearing no.”
Money. Wealth. That bloody sense of entitlement. Ignis sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I will have to pass on the offer, Ms. Melum.”
“And why is that?” She got into his personal space, her body pressed against his. Ignis felt his cock stir in his trousers. It would be so easy to be manipulated, to be coerced into her bed.
“I have a million things to catch up on and while the offer is tempting, I believe in taking no for an answer.” He gently pushed her away and left her on the balcony.
Monday came as uneventful as it could.
Ignis went through the day working on reports and attending meetings. He had received several text messages from Tempest and he wondered how she had gotten his number. Then he remembered who she was and how easy it would be to just ask the right someone by waving yen in their face. While he was in a meeting with the King, she sent a picture.
Her brown hair was tousled and she was pouting at the camera. A text followed. “I want you so bad.”
Ignis rolled his eyes. He texted back. “I’m in a meeting, Tempest.”
The next picture that came across his screen had him nearly dropping his phone to the floor in his haste to cover it. She was topless, goosebumps around her areolas and her nipples hard. She was winking at the camera this time.
“Excuse me, may I run to the restroom?” Ignis asked. The council members exchanged glances while the King simply nodded. “Thank you.”
Ignis rushed to the nearest bathroom. Thankfully he found an empty one and hastened to a stall. He sat down on the toilet and took his phone out. He texted “What are you doing? I was in a meeting?”
“But I’m so horny. See.”
A video attachment. Ignis made sure to lower the volume on his phone before he pressed play.
Tempest was lying on her bed, her brunette locks strewn about her. She was smiling up at the camera, it held above her head. Her free hand rested on her smooth stomach and Ignis felt his cock jerk inside his boxer briefs.
How long could he get away with being gone for? When would they notice?
He calculated the risk and he knew he had enough time to allow himself some release. She shouldn’t be getting under his skin like that, however she had caused an ache in him that he needed to tend to.
Ignis undid the buckle of his belt and unzipped himself as quickly as he could. In his left hand was his phone and in his right was his cock, hard and hot. He glanced at his phone seeing that the video had looped. It was back to her resting her hand on her stomach. He watched as her hand slid lower, stopping at her clit. It was glistening and he gathered that she had already pleasured herself before she sent this. He moaned loudly, forgetting where he was for a moment.
She rubbed herself slowly and he heard the little whimpers, the sighs. He worked himself as best he could in a public toilet stall, worrying that someone would walk in looking for him. He came when she cried out. Ignis took a moment to regain his composure.
When he returned to the meeting no one was paying him any mind, so he just slipped into his seat and silently berated himself. So weak.
The museum offered him a reprieve on Wednesday evening. There were a few people milling about, mostly couples on dates. He passed two men who were standing shoulder to shoulder whispering about a statue of the Founder King, nude and regal. Ignis had admired it on occasion and could see why the men were fascinated by the display. However he was not here for the Founder King.
The painting of Etro was the centerpiece for an upcoming exhibit focusing on the creation of Eos. It stands 20 feet tall and depicted the slumbering Goddess in all white surrounded by the darkness of the Cosmos. Ignis wasn’t the only person interested in it; a young woman stood in front of it with a notepad out. He watched as she scribbled something down, her eyes returning back to the portrait and then back to her notes.
He stepped up beside her and cleared his throat to letting her know that she was no longer alone. She jumped slightly and then relaxed when she saw him. He saw the flash of recognition appear on her face briefly.
“Wanted to see it before the crowds swarm on this place Friday night,” she said as she put her notepad away.
Ignis waved his hand and shook his head. “Don’t let me stop you from whatever it was you were doing,” he says as he looks up at the portrait.
The young woman tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and shifted her bag on her shoulder. “I’m a reporter. They’ve got me writing an article about the painting.”
“What do you do?”
“Well, I used to be a Crownsguard and then an injury landed me at the Crown City Daily News. I pretty much just take whatever stories the top reporters are too busy or good to do.”
Ignis glanced at her again. “You were Crownsguard?”
She nodded. “My siblings still are.”
“I may know them.”
“Silvanus. Camille, Vulcan and Titus are my siblings’ names. I’m Mars.” She held out her hand and Ignis shook it. He knew that name. Knew it’s history as well and his interest was piqued.
He took one of the pamphlets for the painting and opened it, not really reading it. “I know them. I’m Crownsguard as well. Oh, forgive my manners. I’m Ignis Scientia.”
Mars tilted her head to the side, grinning. “I know. I did a profile on you two months ago. I didn’t get to interview you though; I was told you were too busy.”
“Apologies.”
“For what? For doing your job,” Mars giggled. “You’re fine. I made do with what I found on EosNet and from my brother, Titus. Just so you know, he thinks you’re hot, but so do I.”
Ignis felt his face heat up and coughed. What was with people thinking he was hot lately? He was thankful though that Mars hadn’t propositioned him for sex.
“I’ve seen your brother, he’s handsome.”
“My twin is an asshole.” There’s no bite to the words. She was grinning broadly. “Anyhow, I’ll let you enjoy the painting.” She walked away and got halfway to the Founder King before Ignis called out to her. She turned around, waiting.
He handed her a business card. “I’d like to give you proper interview sometime. Please call me. I’m not as busy these days.”
He’s grateful that he took that course of action because when she smiled her dark brown eyes lit up and he knows that he is smitten.
Tempest showed up in the Citadel lobby on Friday. Ignis spotted her standing by the front desks wearing a black faux fur coat over a black fuzzy sweater, form fitting black jeans and knee high leather black boots. The slash of red that is her mouth is down-turned. He hurried over to her, hoping that she wasn’t there to cause a scene.
“Tempest, what are you doing here?”
“Came to see you, but these people,” she jerked her thumb at the two receptionists, who shot her dirty looks in turn, “told me you were busy.”
Ignis rolled his shoulders, easing the tension out. “I was.”
Tempest stared at him as if he were stupid. “Honestly all you do is work. Come have lunch with me.”
“Tempest, please, I have work.”
“And you can always do it later. I haven’t seen you in days.”
“We just met Saturday and you texted me Monday.” Ignis stepped back a little. He remembered what came over him Monday and feels a tinge of shame.
Tempest shrugged, her giant coat swallowing her small frame. “Your point? I like you, Ignis. You’re hot and I’m going to keep bothering you .”
Ignis shook his head. “That’s harassment and I can…”
Tempest put her hands on her hips and laughed. “What? Have me reported to the Crown City PD? Good one. They wouldn’t give two shits. Come on. Just one little lunch and then I’ll leave you alone.”
Ignis weighed the pros and cons. The biggest pro would be getting her to leave him alone for at least awhile. Reluctantly he agreed.
Tempest dragged him to one of the fanciest cafes in the Crown City. Ignis had heard of the place, had seen it named Top New Spot in Insomnian Weekly. The ceilings were high and vaulted with gilded accents. A wall of glass stood between the host’s station and the dining room where those that Ignis served at and chatted over gourmet fare. The art along the walls were paintings done by the old masters of Insomnia and Ignis figured they may be originals.
The host seated them in a private room. She gave them their menus and saw herself out. The menu are a collection of the finest fare from around the Lucian continent and Ignis wondered if he could recreate some of these for Noctis, Prompto and Gladio.
“So what do you think?” Tempest asked as she took out her compact mirror and retouched her signature blood red lipstick.
Ignis glanced around the room they were seated in. “It’s beautiful.”
“My brother owns it. He brought it, um, two years ago and it went from being this shitty dive to one of the most booked places in the city.” She brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Mostly that was due to me. I talked to everyone I knew about this place. Posted so much on my blog that I annoyed my followers.” She laughed and sat back against the butter soft black leather cushions.
Ignis toyed with the napkin ring, wondering if he could dine and dash. He had excuses he could make. Plenty to be perfectly honest and none would have been a lie.
“So, you ever go to places like this with Prince Noctis?”
“His Highness likes fast food more than fine dining, unfortunately.”
“Hmm. Sounds gross.”
“He prefers comfort food.” Ignis tried to keep his tone even. He had been trained for interactions with people like Tempest.
“Still. He eats that shit he sounds like some poor slob.” She glanced over her menu. “Lucky for me I like fine foods, wine, and men.” She winked at Ignis when she said the last part.
Ignis groaned softly. “By the way,” she quipped. “I still want to sleep with you. I’m hoping food will ease you into saying yes.”
Ignis sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “The answer is still no, Tempest.”
“All right. Why not? Are you gay?”
A waitress came in just then and they placed their orders, the air a touch tense. The waitress disappeared and Tempest turned her attention back to Ignis. “So?”
“I’m bisexual, if you must know.”
“So am I not your type? What you like a certain kind of person? You don’t fuck blondes?”
“I…Why are you so fixated on me?”
Tempest rested her arms on the table, leaning towards him. “The way your ass looks in your trousers makes me wet. The first time I saw you was at some gala event. You were following the King around like some lost puppy. You were the subject of so many sleepless nights. Shit, you drove me crazy and I didn’t even know you.”
“That’s wonderful to know, however I think this attention is too sudden and it makes me uncomfortable.”
Tempest ran her finger down the stem of her water glass. “Nothing should make you feel comfortable. If it does then it’s not real. You need to feel out of your element, Ignis.”
“No, Tempest,”he responded, “I don’t.”
“Whatever.”
They ate in silence and when it was time to part, Tempest kissed his cheek. It was a surprisingly sweet kiss and Ignis touched his cheek, knowing it was printed red. Marked red like a stamp. “I’ll see you soon,” she said as she walked away.
“Maybe,” Ignis whispered to himself.