takingaim | And Then He Falls [for regalblaze]

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ten years later

And Then He Falls [for regalblaze]

Of everything that have ever been asked of him, of everything that the last thirty some odd years of his life has demanded of him, nothing has ever been harder than requiring him to stand there and watch his best friend start the long walk up those stairs into the Citadel, knowing that Noctis is going to his death. It's a thousand times harder than having to turn around and look to the massive Giants coming out of the ground, knowing all too well that they might be dying here in giving Noctis enough time to save the damn world. Whatever world might come out of this. What will it matter when Noctis is dead? Maybe this is just a final stand, enough time to live to see the dawn. Somehow, he's both the most afraid and the most determined he's ever been, leaving him in some horrible emotional flux that might almost come across as calm if it wasn't for the tears streaking down his cheeks.

But he holds his gun at the ready, looking solidly forward.

"Last one to kill their giant buys the first round," he calls out, a half-hearted joke as the ground finishes ripping open and the giants stand there.

"Deal," Gladio replies, bringing the massive great sword around in front of him, his eyes more determined than Prompto had ever seen him, but only the faint light shining gave away the tears.

Prompto looks over at Ignis, steeling himself, prepared to do everything to help protect Ignis and without a doubt that Gladio would do the same. He feared for Ignis, really for both of his friends, because with Noctis gone... he is, was, their lives. His, too.

Maybe it's just the death of all of them, no matter what outcome befalls them.

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"No," comes the weak whisper as Prompto finally looks away from the body to Ignis, guided into standing up and pulled a step away before he realizes he's being guided at all, away from his friend who his mind all but screams shouldn't be alone. Logic knows this faulty, foolish, but his head spins with the idea until he stares helplessly at Gladio.

The bigger man nods gesturing with his chin to follow Ignis. "I won't leave him," as if he understands exactly what's going on in Prompto's head. It's both a relief and a punch in the gut, causing Prompto to bend slightly over as if it physically dealt a blow, but he does follow along with Ignis.

Ignis will get a brief squeeze on the shoulder from Gladio before the click of the Shield's boots indicates he's gone to kneel beside the body.

The break room is dusty both otherwise untouched from the years of chaos, like the majority of the Citadel has proven to be. It seems the daemons had never roamed this halls, only one man whose footprints can be seen in the dust in certain areas. Prompto doesn't know where he's being taken, doesn't care, a numbness spreading throughout his mind but not his heart.

Ignis gives Gladio a nod of thanks for helping him persuade Prompto. Sometimes he's better at reading people than Ignis is, even when it is someone close to him like Prompto. With a hand wrapped around his waist, he guides him out of the Throne Room and to the Break Room that's just across the hall.

Whatever the state of the room is it doesn't matter in the hindsight. Ignis doesn't care, Prompto probably cares even less. He helps him sit down on the sofa he knows it's aligned next to one of the tall windows and then sits down himself next to him.

Silence.

It is more suffocating that the dust that is floating in the room. Ignis feels exhausted- body and mind and heart. Ignis takes off his visors to properly bury his face in his hands, a violent shudder going through him.

Dust slowly floats across the room in the delicate shafts of light penetrating the gloom for the first time in many years, kicked up from the door opening, from them sitting on the seat, but neither man seems to notice. With Ignis right there beside him, Prompto couldn't miss the shudder that ran through Ignis.

A pale hand slowly creeps over and settles on Ignis' back without a word, giving what little bit of support he can possible manage when it feels like everything has been drained from him. I'm still here, the hand tries to say, without adding the even if I don't know how much longer that wants to follow.

Noctis has been his hope for most of his life, now. Now it's gone. How can he live without hope? Everyone's always expected him to be the lively one, the one with the energy and excitement and...

His hand slowly tightens on the back of Ignis' jacket.

Without having to think about the body lying in the throne room, all the pain starts crashing down, taking with it everything in its path. The hand on his back only serves to send more shivers through him- the warmth of it clashing with the cold of the pain coursing through his brain.

What now?

For the first time, Ignis has no answers. The people will return, rebuild, continue with their lives. But what are they going to do? Their life has been tied and so closely entwined with Noct's that he doesn't know how he should continue without him, despite what he previously told Prompto.

What now...

Neither does Prompto. No answers, no idea of what to even do. He leaves his hand there on Ignis' back, saying nothing as his head hung, staring down at the floor as they wait in silence. The dawn has come for the world, and yet for them, the darkness has come. He wants to do something, but every attempt to think of what to even do, beyond sitting there broken and taking his next breath, falls apart in his mental hands, fraying.

Then, quietly, "...I want to find chocobos."

That's it. Five quiet words into the silence, with Prompto still staring down at the floor. Where those words come from, Prompto isn't even sure. He has no clue. They just... came.

Ignis can feel the warmth of the sun beating against his back through the window, but compared to the others, it doesn't offer much comfort to the Hand of the King. It is just an eternal reminder of what transpired on this day. It is the hand that offers the solace at this moment, a hand of the person that is going through the same thing as he is, and nothing else.

His head turns towards Prompto as he mentions chocobos and it somehow manages to get his lip to twitch. "...the sneaky, black one too."

There's silent, solemn understanding between them. Or, at least, Ignis understands. Prompto doesn't have to give him any explanations.

The hand slowly moves away from Ignis' back, but not far away. Instead, it falls to lay by Ignis' side, as if wanting to keep offering what little he can but completely uncertain of what to do. It doesn't feel like there's anything to give, but he has to, somehow, for his friend. For the two people he had left that he cared about in this world.

"Black, yeah. Royal color and all that, right?" His voice cracks, terribly, but he keeps right to the end of the sentence. His other hand clenches in the material of his uniform, holding tight to it so he doesn't just fall apart with his own words echoing in the room. "They're super smart, so... there has to be some chocobos out there." Though, in his heart, he knows that's probably not true. IF a chocobo somehow manages to live with nearly all plant life dead and IF a chocobo manages not to get killed by daemons and IF a chocobo manages not to be changed into a monster...

But he needs to believe in something. Anything. Otherwise, he's going to drown.

Ignis is not sure if this will offer any sort of comfort, but it keeps Ignis' mind from wandering too far off and falling into despair. He has to remind himself to take it slowly, yet the searing pain of this moment plants rather pessimistic thoughts in his mind's eye.

Chocobos, huh? Black Royal. The one that stole his specs a long time ago and Ignis had Noct... help him retrieve them. "I am sure some of the chocobos found refuge in Lestallum. The people there have been growing food using the energy of the meteor. I am sure- there will be some there." He tries to sound as confident as he can but the truth is that he won't be sure until the go and witness it themselves.

It would mean leaving the Citadel but, without Noct, this place is hollow. Ignis wouldn't mind leaving it behind.

Insomnia's past holds good, important memories for Prompto, things that he wants to hold near and dear to heart, but just as much, he doesn't want to taint them with blood and rot and destruction of so many years of this city being abandoned, the lack of who would be here to rebuild it with them. They've done so much; isn't it enough? Can't someone else take on the burden, even if for only a little while?

Prompto knows it might not be the right thing to do, but on the heels of the loss of the most important thing in his life? He doesn't know if he cares so much about the 'right thing to do'. That's what got them here, broken into pieces on the floor of the Citadel even if it also saved the world.

"It's a place to start." Go to Lestallum, somewhere he hasn't been in... how long? Prompto can't even remember. Everywhere has too many memories for him to be comfortable, but at least Cindy had been willing to offer him a place to turn into a room, a place to live from while he fought away his anger and pain and fears.

"Come with me?"

The two of them might be having the same train of thought. Ignis wants to stay here and help rebuild, guide others and help them out to have a better future. But... the Citadel keeps giving him only bittersweet memories. Of his childhood, of happiness that now turned into pain at the mere thought of it. In the end, Ignis never felt tied to this place, only to the Prince that resided here. The King that just gave his life for them.

Going to Lestallum. With Prompto. It... doesn't sound so bad. He doesn't know what they could do there but the state of the town probably isn't too well, since everyone ran to hide there.

Ignis nods. "Gladly." He is quiet for a few moments before adding, "Noct would be annoyed if we don't name one chocobo after him." If one of those black chocobos survived, it would be nice to raise one with Noct's name.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Prompto stares across the room, not at anything in particular, just feeling a strange sort of numbness creeping into his whole body, like something is draining out of him. "...We'll find the sleepiest, laziest black chick possible and name him Noct." Then, after a pause, "or, Nocta, I guess, if it turns out to be a girl."

There's an almost smile that tries to touch his lips, thinking about the look on Noctis' face if he found out they accidentally named a girl chocobo after him. It dies, though, and instead threatens to become tears. At least it's a feeling he's familiar with, forcing those down as hard as possible, when he needs to do anything else but that. In the last ten years, there's been far too many times for him to have to deal with something on his own - a threat or his own emotions.

He's gotten better at it then he would have ever liked.

"The strongest one can be Shield, for Gladio, and the smartest one Iggy. I guess mine would be the scrawniest or something." Though years have put muscles into his chest and arms that twenty year old him had never had.

"He would be really happy about it..." Ignis says slowly, leaning back in his seat and just sinking into it. All the things that Noct enjoyed and fought for and now not being able to witness them. Ignis' mind easily supplied him with an image of Noct leaning on one of the rental chocobos, napping next to the fire.

Ignis sighs shakily but decides to focus on what Prompto was saying. Scrawniest? Well, Prompto was a bit on the scrawny side- ten years ago. He wonders if he stayed that way. But that was beside the point. Scrawny wasn't the defining trait of Prompto, it was-

"How about the fastest? You've always been quick on your feet," he offers gently.

"You think so?" It is so much easier to talk about this than the lingering thoughts of now what. Everything they had fought for had come to light, literally and figuratively, but the cost... the cost had not only been Noctis, but a part of their own souls in the process. The long night had left scars behind, but one last night of Noctis had been somehow a thousand times more scarring than anything else had been. The last memories before a corpse was under his hands.

Walk tall, my friends.

"...Gladio's down there... do- do we go down there with him?" Would Noctis be buried in that tomb? "I think... Noct would be happier elsewhere, honestly." Even if he thinks that he might get in trouble for daring to admit that feeling.

"Of course."

It is a temporary distraction. Nothing in this world will be able to lessen the weight of the loss they suffered. And the World might never know the extent to which their King went to bring them the light back.

Perhaps... after the wounds heal up a bit, he could ask Prompto to help him write the book about what happened. The man had already documented everything with his photos, it only needs words that Ignis will more than gladly provide. People forgetting what Noctis did for them would be the biggest crime of all.

"We will join him in guarding the place later. As for... the final resting place- I agree. Noct never liked the Citadel, despite it being his home." It only gave him bad memories. The council is gone as is most of their superiors. It leaves them to decide where they want to bury their King.

"Perhaps we could look into building The Royal Tomb somewhere where it overlooks the ocean. Noct did like his fishing," Ignis says with a small smile.

To have the camera as an eye witness of what happened, spoken in the words of the three who had lived through it at its closet, to have them still here to speak of it and be reminders of the truth... perhaps it would not all be lost. The more who knew of what happened meant the more that would pass it on to their children, their children's children. Word would spread and, with some hope, the word would remain true with the book there to guide its course. History is always skewed, written in the eye of those who lived through it, the winners, but this would be as close to what actually happened as they could manage.

For a flawed hero, even a hero who liked to fish and who was lazy and stubborn and who feared responsibility but took it anyway... was a hero that could relate to the people.

"The ocean... yeah. Yeah, he'd like that, or even up at the Vesperpool, or near Gladin Quin..." Different locations, the things they did at them, flicker through his head and pull hard at his heart, but he means his words. "I don't exactly know how you go around and get a tomb made or anything, though."

Ignis wants to be painfully objective of what had transpired in these past years since they left the Crown City. This should never be forgotten. The memory of Noctis should never lay and collect the dust. With Prompto and Gladio, Ignis is sure they will manage to collect everything they passed through and put it on the pages.

It will hurt. Reliving the memories will open up the wounds, good and bad, but it would hurt more if Noctis' sacrifice for the mankind was forgotten.

"There is a Royal tomb next to Vesperpool already. Galdin Quay, however, sounds wonderful. On a sunny peak, overlooking the ocean..." Yes, Noct would like that.

"Don't worry. I know the procedures," Ignis gives Prompto a short nod. "I will need, however, a bit of help. With signing the papers." Yes, he's asking you for help Prompto. And he's sure you want to be involved with it.

It will hurt. It will be like pouring salt into their wounds that will not even begin to heal when this project begins, but it doesn't matter. It would hurt so much more in the long run if they didn't do this now when they can remember the most. When they'll be able to pour themselves into it and make it a work of art. Something worthy of Noctis. Of their friendship.

"That's a good point," about Vesperpool. Then, a pause, before saying quietly, "that's why we need to do this. Because you know what I don't know? The name of whoever that was at Vesperpool. I want them to remember forever what happened."

Then, that? Prompto blinks quietly at Ignis. Why... him? Why not Gladio? But then he feels guilty immediately because of course he'll help! "Y-Yeah. Of course. Whatever you need."

A hesitation follows before Prompto offers, uncertainly, "procedures? Sign papers... for who? Everyone's... gone." There's so many gone. Dead. The council that had once been, how many would still be alive after the long night?

Ignis will leave most decisions on how the tomb looks to Gladio and Prompto. He can't have a lot of influence in that, considering his eyesight. But, he trusts them that they will pick the best. All Ignis can do is guide them through the procedure.

"They will remember," Ignis says. "They will remember ten years in the darkness and the King that saved them from it." There is a soft, tired sigh. Now that they are on this topic, they should probably commemorate King Regis as well. A long time has passed since Fall of Insomnia but that doesn't mean they can't raise something in his name.

But the question disrupts Ignis' thoughts. Indeed, sign papers for whom? "It doesn't look important now, that is true," Ignis agrees, "however, as the world rebuilds itself, people will try to claim it. The land that the tomb will be raised on," Ignis clarifies.

There's an angry scowl on his face, "People are selfish. I will not let anything desecrate his tomb."

"I... don't know what exactly needs to happen, but there's no way someone's going to-"

Pause.

Then, very quietly, "is that what we did? We cracked open those tombs and took the weapon... is that desecrating...?" Suddenly a shiver goes down his spine, realizing that back then, he'd just been doing what he'd been told they needed to do which might have very well been desecrating old kings' tombs.

"But like- what are we looking for? A tomb that's someplace anyone can go and lots of people should? Or a private place just for people who know?" There's a whole bunch of things to think about, Prompto is understanding... stuff that needs to happen because like hell he's not going to make sure his best friend has a proper burial place.

That's what Ignis thought in the beginning- that they were ruining something really important. And he would still feel that way if those same Kings didn't just take Noct's life without a blink of hesitation and wondering if there could've been another way.

"No, do not worry about that. Those weapons were left behind with a purpose, for Noct. Desecration from our part would be completely destroying the tombs, which we didn't do," Ignis says. "Noct's tomb will be different, built after a time of great destruction. There will always be some kind of fool trying to claim the land that the tomb was built on just so they could profit from it. I will not allow that."

No, people already got enough from Noct, the most worthy thing they could get- his life and the dawn it brought.

"I was hoping... it would be a place of peace. We cannot stop people from wanting to visit it, he was their King. And if we are to build it near Galdi Quay, it would be open to the public." The could bury the body below and out of reach and keep the monument above it. Well... they can discuss that a bit later.

Prompto... doesn't know the whole truth of what's happened in the throne room at the end of the longest night. About what Noctis' last moments were, what bravery was faced other than just the last of his breath being stolen from him. In one way or another, he'll find out, even if it takes the ending of this future book for the words to be relayed to him. The pain is still too raw for him to even try to imagine what happened, only the concept that Noctis' life had been ended that is far, far too real.

"I don't know if he'd want something like the other tombs. They were... dark. Dead." Prompto's not entirely certain how to say what's swirling around in his head, trying and failing to take effect. "...he'd probably want a giant bed to sleep in for all eternity." A weak joke, but the idea of something different attempting to come across. "At least it'll be dark for him?"

But his hands fold together, still close enough to Ignis for the other to feel him shift back, looking up instead of down. "Is it wrong to celebrate his life instead of death?" Uncertain, because tombs are... dead. It hurts so badly to say it aloud, grinding the salt into the wound, but it feels like something right.

Ignis won't be too detailed about what transpired in the throne room when they write the book. Even after all these years, he still doesn't know why he saw what he did. And he doesn't want to remember it or remember Noct in that way.

"We will make his bright..." Just like the dawn that he brought back today. He's not sure how he, they will make a tomb filled with light but Ignis is sure someone will come up with an appropriate design. The attempt at a joke was weak, yes, but it still has Ignis' lips tilt up a bit. Indeed, he would want a giant bed. Giant bed floating on water so he could fish when he wakes up. Maybe that's why he liked the yacht so much.

"No, it is not wrong. He wouldn't want us to remember him because he died, but because of the time we spent together while he was alive." Ignis places a hand on Prompto's shoulder, giving it a, hopefully comforting, squeeze.

The tears threaten to return when Ignis' hand lands on his shoulder, but there is a comfort there. He's not alone. None of them are, unless they choose to be. The last ten years had them apart, only seeing each other in increasingly rarer situtions. Why had they all been so stupid? Is it just going to happen again? Without the hope of Noctis, Prompto is pretty sure he will just go mad if that happens. There's no one else out there who understands. Friends.

"Then he can forever grumble about having to wake up because it's too bright." His lips twitch as a tear falls, but he scrubs it away with a quick swipe of the back of his hand. "Let's go down and find Gladio. He shouldn't be done there alone." In a dark, creepy tomb full of dead things and alone with his thoughts...

No. None of them should be alone for a little while. Or maybe he is just being selfish because he doesn't want to be alone right now.

Ignis isn't sure why they all ended up walking their own ways during these ten long years. Speaking for himself, he... had a lot to do. A lot of adjusting. A lot of training. His own pride stood in the way. He didn't want to burden the others with it, dragging them into his own problem when there was something more important at hand.

"Hmm..." a small nod, in agreement. There is a brief memory flash in Ignis' mind of Noct tossing a pillow at the window one morning. It was... such long time ago.

The suggestion pulls Ignis from the melancholic state the memories suddenly brought in. "Yes. We should go see him." He stands, tilting his head to the window slightly, feeling the warmth of the sun that was missing for a decade, then heads for the door. 'Watch over us, Noct...'

[ooc: Just an FYI, but I'll be working a con all weekend starting today, so I'll get back to this ASAP! Probably Monday! ^_^]

Prompto pushes himself up, realizing just how sore he's feeling. His muscles are getting stiff, the wounds he suffered during their final fight nagging at him, but there's no time to deal with it. He has so much he needs to do. There's so much to do. There's- He looks out the window, the sun spread across the broken city, like butter across the buildings. Is there? What else do they owe the world...?

"So we go and find chocobos, make a ranch... do we need to figure out how to grow things? I never had a green thumb." But many will need to grow things to start and spread things out across the world, to repopulate so, so many dead plants. Some would never recover, no matter what they might do. Just how much had been lost to the long night because they could only do enough to survive, not worry about the when.

Never 'if'. Always when, always. Noct would return.

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