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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.
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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"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.
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"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.
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"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.
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"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...'
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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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"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?"
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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?"
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"..."
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
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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"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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Exactly what he had been, Prompto thinks bitterly.
Their footsteps drag Gladio out of wherever his mind had taken him, and only Prompto would be able to see the faint wetness on his cheeks glinting, the crimson around the edges of them. He wonders if he can ever remember Gladio properly crying in all of the years they've known each other and isn't sure he can place a time, but it isn't like the big guy to show emotions readily. They briefly share an exchange of looks - one that promises Gladio that he won't spill a word of what he's seeing.
"Gladio's here," he says roughly after a moment, looking anywhere but the body of his best friend. It does look like all of those tombs, and like he had thought up there in the resting room, completely wrong for Noctis. Completely right for his dark, angry mood, but this is everything Noctis never would have wanted, other than maybe a dark place to sleep.
"...Yeah, Gladio's here." There's nearly no sign of what Gladio had been doing in his voice except for maybe the slightest rough catch, but that could be contributed to the rain, the fight for their lives, the exhaustion. "So, we got a plan yet?" It's joking, but there's nothing joking about it, and he can't even give up the damns to care that he's failed in it. Ignis has always been the man with the plan, and Gladio's been fine in letting it be just that.
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He can sense Gladio's presence now that he's inside and gives him a short nod. Walking around him after giving him a pat on the shoulder, Ignis moves to stand next to Noctis' upper body. Maybe losing his eyesight was a blessing after all.
The plan, huh?
"There is..." Ignis starts slowly, his hand coming to grip on the edge of the marble table, "...only one task left for us to do." His head tilts toward Gladio- the Shield knows what he's talking about. There is no way they can avoid talking about this no matter how painful it is.
"Prompto and I think that hill overlooking Galdin Quay would be suitable. Your suggestion, Gladio?"
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For Ignis' touch on Gladio, there is only a quiet grunt of response, but between friends who have known so much of one another over the years, it speaks volumes. It's a verbal pat in return, it's an acknowledgement, it's a gratitude that he's not down here alone getting angrier at himself and the Astrals.
Gladio has to think back so many years to those times in Galdin Quay, when the sunshine his skin hasn't known in years poured like honey across the water and sand, when the scent of salt and water and something delicious cooking brushed up against his nose, when laughter - theirs, others - could be heard mixing with the sound of gulls and waves. It had been an easier time, a happier time, a place where they teased Noct about fishing and pulled up the second biggest fish Gladio had ever seen, all while cheering and hooting. It's a place that makes him think of the past and of better times, infinitely better than the dark, horrid place it's become in the last remaining years.
"Yeah." There's a bitterness in the back of his throat at how difficult that single word is to get out. "That sounds like the perfect place."
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That's how he wants to remember him. Not on the cold stone.
Ignis gives Gladio a nod. It really is a perfect place for their King, the bringer of light. Noct seemed to like Gladin Quay a lot if their trips to the small port and vacation place were any indication. The sun, fishing spot, that damn cat that ended up following him all the way to Caem.
"We should look into people that can help us build it," Ignis says quietly. They will have to make a trip to Lestallum to, hopefully, find architects who can do it. Despite the fact that neither of them wants to step away from this place and the guarding duty.
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"...Go, and I'll stay here with him." There's a rough catch in Prompto's voice from hours of fighting, screaming, the screams that want to make their way out of his throat right now, but his gaze is firm as he looks over to the others. Ten years has changed everything and yet nothing and yet everything. "We don't have a lot of time."
And it has nothing to do with the condition of the body - Prompto doesn't even know that the magics of the tomb (do they still work, given everything that's happened, the last of the line gone) would mke sure of that - but everything to do with the fact that change is coming. To Insomina, to Lestallum, to the world. They don't have a huge opening before those builders they'll need will be involved in everything else everyone else will need, not just a dead man only a small handful know saved the world.
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And he hopes that Gladio will support him on this as well.
"I would stay if I didn't have to go as a Hand to the King. I'd like you to come with me, Prompto." He will be angry, Ignis can feel it, but he is seriously concerned for him.
"Driving is still impossible for me and I dare say Gladio is worse than you when it comes down to it." Ignis will dig out any and all excuses he can think of just to bring him along. They all need time to grieve but Prompto- he will never come to terms with this if he stays at the tomb, hoping something will change.
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Ignis can't see what Gladio can, the changes in Prompto's face as Ignis speaks. At first, there's a certain kind of anger, set in the pinch of his brows and the narrowing of his eyes, something he's not used to seeing in Prompto and enough to startle him, but it doesn't last long. It turns into something that might be surprise, he's not entirely certain, before melting into a tight-lipped understanding.
Gladio has been friends with Ignis for far, far too long to not pick up on the fact Ignis is trying to get their softer-hearted friend out of this place, and even if it means he needs to stay behind as guard, he will. "Oi, Gladio is standing right here," in a half-joke at the crack at his driving. "...go ahead with him, Prompto. Besides, I know the Citadel. I can try to get some things together here."
"It'll be more than a day," Prompto finally says into the silence that follows, waiting for his own decision. "We can't leave Gladio alone here for that long."
He doesn't need to say that he doesn't mean Gladio as much as Noctis, but Gladio's added into that as well. None of them deserve to remain silent in this-
I should be proud of him.
It's the thought Gladio has after what comes next, because Prompto has his gun out faster than he can even turn, aimed and ready, when a familiar voice speaks up.
"I'll stay with Gladio."
Cor.
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Ignis expected firmer, louder opposition to his suggestion, and was surprised when none of it came. Maybe Gladio gave Prompto a look, signaled something, but Ignis was relieved that Prompto was at least considering coming with him. And Gladio did have a point- he did grew up here and knew the Citadel as well as Ignis did. It could be arranged to become a temporary refuge center for people returning to the City- but they need to handle their King before allowing something like that.
Arrvial of Cor stopped Ignis from trying to persuade Prompto. He shouldn't be surprised that the older man is here. His support will be very helpful.
"Marshal," Ignis nods. "Thank you for coming."
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From the sound of it, Prompto sure is surprised that Cor is here. Ignis can't see the relief in Prompto's eyes when he realizes who he's looking at, or the slight sag of Gladio's shoulders that had been unconsciously up near his ears in tension, but Cor misses neither. He misses little, even if there is now a touch of grey in his hair. Iris wouldn't let him, for a moment, miss anything.
"No need. ...I would have been here sooner, if I could." The distance had been too far to close in the time they had given him to respond, something that sits bitterly in his stomach as he looks on yet another King he has outlived, another he was supposed to protect, but none of it shows in his face. "I'll watch over him."
Yet his tone... it's subtle, but what seems like an offer is in reality a question - do you trust me to watch over him? Not in a doubt of skill but he hadn't been here. When he was needed for this final fight. They have the right to deny him that or even send him in their place.
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