Chapter Text
The alarm on Ignis’ phone woke him. He typically rose before it chimed, but he’d set it for earlier than usual. After he tapped it silent, he rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses, wishing he’d woken up on his own. Hearing the alarm actually go off made him feel as if he were late for something. It wasn’t the best way to start a morning.
The water from the shower was cold when he stepped in but the uncomfortable tardy feeling left him without the patience to wait for it to heat up properly. The icy little needles scrubbed him clean and helped banish the last vestiges of sleep that clung to him, though not in the most gentle way. He also decided to forego coffee. He reasoned he could make some when he got to Noct’s apartment so he wouldn’t have to go without for very long.
Though Noctis had been doing relatively well getting himself off to his classes in the mornings, Ignis still had reservations about the Prince’s ability to live on his own outside the Citadel. Subsequently, the first order of business on Ignis’ schedule every day now was to check on His Highness. Sometimes he would just call, but Noctis had exams this morning, so he didn’t want the Prince to leave his apartment without eating something. Ignis planned to go there and make him breakfast.
Still feeling a bit off-kilter, he double checked he had everything he needed before he left. He harbored no delusions that Noct would have anything even vaguely holding nutritional value in his kitchen. After assuring he had all the necessary ingredients for a balanced breakfast, he gathered the bags and walked out of his quarters into the corridors of a still-sleeping Citadel. Arms full, he shut the door with his foot, but before he could step away, something caught his eye.
There was a letter taped to his door.
Sighing at yet another irregularity disrupting his morning routine, he set down the bags and peeled the envelope off gingerly so as not to damage the stain of the wood. Whoever had left it would have done better to knock and hand it to him rather than just leaving it there.
He tore open the plain white envelope to reveal a single sheet of paper. The contents were not specifically addressed to him, nor was the letter signed. The words on it were handwritten with what looked to be a fountain pen as evidenced by a few ink smudges at the corners. He didn’t recognize who the script belonged to, not that he imagined anyone he knew would leave him an unaddressed and unsigned letter. If Noctis needed him, he would simply text his phone. If something was needed from him with regard to his duties at court, the King would have sent a messenger in person.
Ignis looked at his watch to assure he had the time to deal with whatever was in the letter. He decided he could spare a moment to skim the contents, but only that. It was still well before dawn and Ignis hadn’t retired to his rooms until very late last night, so the person who left it was either an early riser, or a late sleeper, or both.
Ignis started reading. Bizarrely, it wasn’t a ‘letter’ at all. It was a story…
There was once a young Soldier who served in the army of a great Queen. Their country was at war with a mighty foe, but the Queen was cunning and strong. She kept her people safe, sometimes at the expense of her own safety. She fought against their enemies alongside her men, unwilling to expose them to dangers she would not face herself. And she did what she could to rule well, often taking too much burden on her own shoulders.
For all of these reasons, the Queen was much lauded by her people...but she was loved by the Soldier.
He would see the Queen with her generals and he would marvel at her command of strategy. He would see her on the battlefield and stand in awe of her tenacity. He would see her walk among her subjects, offering comfort with a tender hand and his heart would swell in his chest at her perfection. And through all of those moments, the Soldier would pine for her from afar. His Queen was cunning and strong and beautiful .
But the Soldier was only that. A soldier. A lowly pawn, a simple man, with nothing to offer such a grand monarch but his sword. He was neither distinguished, nor indispensable. Neither brilliant, nor bold. The Soldier was brave though, and loyal, and each night he would kneel by his humble bed and pray to the Six in their heavens that one day he would find a way to prove his worth to the worthy Queen...
The story ended there, unfinished. Ignis furrowed his brow at the cryptic sheet of paper. He flipped it over to find the other side blank. He checked the envelope again hoping to find an explanation for this strange... thing he’d found stuck to his door. He came up with nothing. If someone was playing a joke on him, he failed to see the humor. Especially if it ended up making him late.
He put the letter back in its envelope and slipped it inside his jacket pocket. It was likely the little fairy tale was simply misplaced and was meant for a different door than his. Perhaps it was a gift for one of the children living in the staff’s family quarters. He was on an entirely different floor of the Citadel than the family quarters but it was the most likely explanation he could come up with in the limited time he had. He made a mental note to inquire as to its rightful owner later on, after he attended to his long list of duties for the day.
Another alarm chimed on his phone reminding him of those pressing duties. He needed to be off. Still perplexed and even more perturbed than he already had been about his atypical morning, Ignis rushed down the deserted palace hallways, bags and letter in tow. He rounded a blind corner too quickly and accidentally ran into someone who was also getting an early start to the day.
Gladiolus caught them both before they could fall atop one another and helped Ignis find his footing. The bags of ingredients weren’t so lucky.
Ignis straightened his jacket and started picking up his things. “My apologies. I didn’t see you.”
“No sweat.” Gladio stooped to help him.
The Prince’s Shield was dressed only in a pair of loose fitting shorts and trainers. He had a towel draped across the back of his neck. His hair was tied back and his face was flushed. He looked as if he must be returning from his morning run in the gardens. Ignis knew he ran every morning because he was always trying to get Noctis to join him. Something neither Gladiolus nor Ignis had yet been able to convince the Prince to do.
“You headed to Noct’s place?” Gladio asked.
“Yes, he has exams this morning.”
Gladio made a disgusted noise. “Don’t trust the spoiled princess to make it out the door on his own? You baby him too much.”
“He’s been managing passably well actually.” Ignis defended.
“Not from where I’m standing.” Gladio struck back and folded his arms across his broad chest. Ignis noticed the bird of prey tattoo taking shape there was more intricately detailed than the last time he’d seen it. The skin also looked to still be a little red around some of the thicker black lines. He must have recently had another session. Ignis had never considered getting a tattoo himself but he had to admit the artistry was beautiful, as was the placement. It complimented Gladio’s imposing form well.
“He’s been blowing me off lately.” Gladio continued. Ignis shook off the strange idle thoughts. ‘Strange’ seemed to be the theme of the day so far. “The little shit hasn’t come for a training session all week. I didn’t know he had a test though. It better be ‘cuz he’s been studying.”
Ignis sighed and rubbed at his temples. He seriously doubted it was because Noct had been studying. “It’s harder for me to keep track of him now that he rarely wants to come back to the Citadel. I promise to have him here this afternoon for you. I’m sorry I wasn’t aware that he’s been so lax in his training.”
“Why are you apologizing for him?”
“He is ultimately my responsibility. I’ll need to further modify my strategies with him now that he is living on his own. You know he is difficult to motivate under the best of circumstances.”
He and Gladio had known one another for a very long time and they’d known their Prince for even longer still. Gladio was one of the few people Ignis could be so candid with when it came to Noctis without feeling as if he was betraying his sworn oaths or his friendship.
“Hmph. Bring him by this afternoon and I’ll motivate his ass for you.” Gladio grabbed Ignis’ arm to pull him closer, his next words more serious. “And he’s our responsibility, Iggy. You don’t have to take on all his shit by yourself.”
Ignis was running later than he’d intended. His days were always scheduled down to the minute and he’d spent too many minutes already, musing over the peculiar letter in his pocket and now talking with Gladio over their charge. The morning was not off to a good start but Gladio’s words were comforting and did the job of soothing the buzz of irritation rising up inside him.
The weight of King Regis’ long standing order, the request of a father, that Ignis look after his son was often heavy on the would-be advisor’s shoulders. There were precious few people allowed into the Prince’s life and even fewer the Prince himself welcomed. That Ignis sometimes felt alone in facing the daunting task of grooming a wayward Prince into a King, was an understatement of epic proportions.
Though Gladio perhaps applied his responsibilities to the Crown differently, he was no less resolute in seeing them fulfilled. It helped Ignis to know he was there and that they shared a common purpose.
The feeling of solidarity made Ignis acutely aware of Gladio’s warm touch on his arm. Grounding. Reassuring. Ignis nodded his head.
“Yes. Of course.” He agreed. “I’ll bring him by later. Thank you.”
Gladio released him and let him go on his way. The smell of dawn air and sweat that lingered on Gladio after his run now lingered in Ignis’ nostrils as he hurried to the car.
Absently, Ignis flexed the muscle in his arm where Gladio’s hand had been. There was a strange tingling left behind from the touch. Gladio was a fixture in his life but the two of them didn’t intersect as often as one might think given they were both bound to the Prince. Now that Noctis was exerting his independence, however, Ignis had to acknowledge the wisdom in adopting Gladio’s position that they were in this together. It would only serve Noct better in the end if they coordinated their efforts. Ignis wasn’t accustomed to relying on others, but if he had to, the Prince’s sworn Shield was someone worthy enough to depend upon.
Worthy.
The word circled his thoughts back around to the unfinished fairy tale in his pocket. He sympathized with the nameless Soldier. Proving one’s worth was no small task and something he also strived to do every day. He imagined Gladio felt the same.
Ignis finally arrived in the Citadel’s cavernous basement garage. He waved a greeting to the valets at their post. One of them approached him with the keys to the King’s car in hand.
“I’ll go myself, thank you.” Ignis couldn’t afford to wait to have the car fetched for him. The valet handed over the keys as Ignis balanced his bags in one arm. He walked at a brisk pace over to where the Regalia was parked. Traffic would likely still be light so he was confident that, if there were no more impediments to his agenda, he could make it to Noct’s apartment before the Prince even woke up.
The fickle gods, it seemed, had other plans.
Ignis stopped and stared, dumbfounded. There was a letter placed on the car’s windshield, right under one of the wiper blades, plain white like the one in his pocket and in plain sight. Ignis hung his head. He knew when he’d been bested. Resigning himself to the fact he was unlikely to get his day back on track, he packed the bags into the car, snatched the letter off the windshield, sat in the driver’s seat, and read it. Unaddressed, unsigned, same ink, same smudges. The story continued where it had left off...
...One day, the Queen met with her advisors to plan the next attack against their foe. The Queen’s army was greatly outnumbered, but their enemy was bearing down on a defenseless village so they had little choice but to act if innocent lives were to be spared. The Soldier had worked hard and had shown himself to be efficient and obedient. It earned him a place beside one of the generals as his runner. The Soldier stood at attention in the corner of the council room and listened to the gambits presented to the Queen. Some were complex and conservative. Some were simple and risky. The Queen, ever a champion of her people, would not have an easy decision to make. The Soldier mourned the lines of worry on her brow and his heart ached to see the frown on her face. Would that he was stronger, would that he was smarter, he could offer his beloved Queen some solace. Alas, he was no general, and so could offer nothing to ease her burdens.
On the eve of battle, at their encampment, the Soldier found himself outside the Queen’s tent. He would fight for her on the morrow with bone and blood and sword, but it didn’t seem enough. On an impulse, he reached in his pocket and retrieved his rationed healing potion. Supplies were scarce and each soldier was given only one. His gut clenched at the thought that the Queen, never willing to keep more for herself than was rationed to her men, would also be fighting tomorrow and would also only have one potion standing between her and possible death. Without giving it another thought, the Soldier left his potion on her doorstep and walked away…
Just as Ignis reached the end of the installment, his phone chirped. It was a text from Gladio.
Gladiolus: Hey. I called and woke up His Highness. I told him he better have coffee waiting for you when you get there or I’m gonna kick his ass later. Hope your day gets better. G.