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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"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.

Do they owe the world? Hopefully not. But the World owes Noct. So, so much.

"I am sure we can learn how to grow vegetables," Ignis says, pushing the heavy door open to lead them in the hallway. "I am sure people from Lestallum will give us few tips about it. They have been growing things for a long while." They will need Ramuh do wash down all the dirt and stains that daemons left behind, and it shouldn't be a problem now, would it?

He heads to the elevator, feet still feeling like they are made of steel. He knew that eventually, they would have to go down to the tombs but nothing in the world would be able to prepare him for this. Still, he's more worried for Prompto than himself. But he's not going to deny him from going.

"Could you please, call for the elevator?"

"Right." Stepping forward, he hits to go down, feeling an anxiousness at the idea of going down into a tomb or the concept of seeing Noctis again, dead. Cold. Everything he shouldn't be.

And into the silence as they wait for the elevator, Prompto voices a thought going around and around in his head, something that's been there for so long but he hadn't dared to ask Noctis on their last night together. "...why did the Astrals do this?" Staring at the rising number of the elevator, breathing slowly even with the equally rising feeling in his chest of anger. "Why did they need Noctis? Just- Just why?"

A question that frequently plagued Ignis' mind as well. But Ignis also knows that it wasn't just Astrals mixed into this. For way, too many people Noct gave his life for to cleanse them of their sins- not just ones in the present, but the Kings of the past as well.

"..."

What can he say when he doesn't have an answer?

"Unfortunately... I do not know." Idly, Ignis pulls on his glove. "The Astrals had no power of eliminating the darkness that started enveloping the Star. Whose fault it is- the God's or Human's- we might never know."

His hand curls into a fist: "What I do know is that an innocent soul was sacrificed for all of them. And they better do their part in reviving this world, or so help me-" he'll hunt them down in the afterlife

"...Does that mean Noct had a power greater than the Astrals?" Prompto's voice is quiet, but in the silence of the almost empty Citadel, it seems loud. The elevator dings quietly and opens smoothly, even after all these years without maintenance. Numbly, Prompto steps within and turns automatically to hit a button - then realizes he has no idea what to hit.

"Uh, what floor are we going to?" He actually pays attention to the buttons, seeing that there's things below '1'. How deep does it go? He assumes down, to one of these 'B' labeled floors...

He doesn't want to push it, but he will.

"B1," Ignis says when they step in the elevator, hands crossed in front of him. It is not exactly a basement and more of a memorial floor, dedicated for processions like these.

He knows that the Citadel is empty, save for them, but he still doesn't feel comfortable talking about Noct's power "in the open".

"Noct was the Chosen One, by the Crystal, at the age of three. The old Prophecy said that the One who is anointed by the Crystal will purge the darkness that even the Astrals couldn't contain. But the price for that was..." Ignis trails off. The price for that was too high.

[ooc: I am going insane at the moment because we are less than one week away from the big house move... All I've done this weekend is pack!]

The button for B1 gets pressed and the elevator smoothly shuts its doors and begins moving downward. At this point, what's the point, as far as Prompto's concerned. Noctis is- well. There's not really any point to hiding it all anymore, is there? And it's not like anyone else is in the elevator.

"Meaning Noct was stronger than all of them combined, or something." Prompto's arms cross over his chest, an unconscious defensive gesture, feeling an anger building up in his chest all over again. "They chose the right guy, but it all feels like-"

He stops. Cuts himself off like a knife. Then, into the silence, just whispers, "Sorry." He shouldn't be talking about this. It's making him angry, them upset, and he's letting his stupid mouth run away from him like he did as a kid.

[ooc: don't worry at all! and good luck with the move!]

Ignis' head is tilted forward, thinking about the Prophecy he heard before. It indeed sounded like Noct was the strongest person if you could believe that thing. "Or he was the only one able to use the power of the Crystal without it destroying him." He remembers king Regis and how his health deteriorated as the ring and the power of the crystal he was getting slowly sapped his life out.

"It's alright," and Ignis really means it. Now that initial bolt of sadness is gone, what remains is anger. And he's angry too. One wrong word from an outsider and they might regret witnessing the dawn. "It does feel as if Noct was left to pick up the pieces behind and fix things he wasn't responsible for." Yet... it was his duty that he embraced during ten years within the Crystal. And Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis need to accept it.

No matter how unfair it is.

[ooc: Thanks! I'd say hopefully things will calm down with the move, but we have unpacking, new stuff to get, THREE LARPs coming up between the two of us... it gonna be a crazy May/June. But fun!]

It's something that Prompto would like to think he's accepted during the ten long years without Noctis. They all knew the truth, in the end, what would need to happen. If pressed, Prompto couldn't even have told when he realized what the truth was, but he would have bet that unconsciously, he knew even before they had lost him to the Crystal. It feels like everything, sometimes, comes down to that Crystal.

"...to the hells with the Crystal," Prompto whispers, but in the silence of the empty Citadel, it's loud enough to hear clearly. "It took Noctis away." At his side, there's a quiet creak of leather as his fist tightens up unconsciously. "It decided to take him away for ten years and left the world to rot for it. It let the Scourage get worse. It let people die. It- It took him, for whatever reason it decided it couldn't just do it on its own." Even his jaw begins to hurt as he clenches it.

It's the kind of rare anger few have ever truly seen. In the years between then and now, Cindy had, once or twice, on nights when Prompto couldn't take it any more. Nights when she had gone for the secret stash of liquor and they made themselves forget, just for a little while.

Ignis can't blame Prompto for the anger he's feeling. Ever since he found out in Altissia what kind of an end is waiting for their King, he felt as if his hands were tied. And, when he couldn't dissuade Noct from his intention of carrying on with the task, the lock has been put where the chains were on his hands. There was nothing they could do or say to change Noct's mind.

And when it came down to the Crystal- it was both their savior and doom. No, it wasn't enough. And Noct wasn't enough either. It took generations of Lucis Caelum to banish the darkness. If the Prophecy is right.

"The Ancestors that doomed the World- Noct tried to give us what little peace he could. We must cherish it and never lose the sight of what was given to us." He's trying, desperately, not to give into the anger he's feeling himself. Because he's sure that's something Noct wouldn't want them to do.

Prompto's known Noctis, even if from afar at times, most of his life. There's three words he would have used to describe Noctis before any others - determined, lazy, and stubborn. Not that the lazy part would have been meant as an insult, because once Noctis' mind is set on something pretty much nothing will stop him, not even himself, but if he didn't have to do something, or he could find an easier way... he was the first to do so.

"I don't intend to," Prompto's says fiercely, the change in his voice suggesting he's staring right at Ignis for suggesting he might otherwise. "It doesn't mean this isn't all- all-" he finds himself surprisingly unable to curse in front of Ignis, even after all of these years apart from him and learning to do so with the hunters that came through.

Then there's a metallic thud - Prompto kicking the elevator wall as it glides silently down into the bowels of the Citadel. He says nothing more until the doors open, only then stepping out and being ready to give Ignis a guiding hand.

"Good," Ignis nods, feeling the annoyed gaze at him. "Because I will need you to help me keep it that way for everyone else as well, as I mentioned earlier." They were the only ones that know the truth behind all of this. The sound of the boot kicking the metal perfectly describes Ignis' frustration as well. Everything that he has to push down and keep bottled up because, aside from Gladio and Prompto, no one would be able to understand.

"Thank you," he says softly as Prompto helps him out of the elevator and into the damp, musty smelling corridor. It was more than obvious that no one came down here in years. Ignis' sense of smell could pick up the stuffy scent of mold, water dripping somewhere and general dampness from being underground.

If his memory serves him right, the room should be to the right and down the hall. Big, black marble door, engraved with gold, like everything else. The room itself should resemble tombs of the Ancestors they visited. Only this time... it would be Noct lying on the table, sword in his hand.

"Gladio is there?" Ignis doesn't hear him move.

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