Chapter Text
Ignis is waiting for them as soon as they enter the Citadel. He pushes off the wall to join them, frown set on his face when he stops in front of Gladio and looks over all three of them. Noctis just behind Gladio, trying not to look as nervous as he must feel; and, next to him, Prompto messing with his camera, just behind the prince's arm and trying to give a weak smile. If Ignis hadn't known Noctis and Gladio as long as he has, he may not notice; but, he has and he does. The way Noctis is seconds from shutting down to cope with the situation and the tension in Gladio's shoulders.
He lets out a slow breath before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm certain you're both well aware that Prince Ravus is raising quite the storm. Before we enter the board room, please, tell me what I'm dealing with. I've little doubt he did something to incite retaliation, just...."
As much as he wants to believe that Noctis and Gladio are capable of self-control, the past few days have been nothing short of unprecedented and he is beyond uncomfortable with the uncertainty. He expects a rundown from Gladio and, instead, is surprised when Noctis speaks up first.
"He said Prompto doesn't belong here. And treated him and Gladio like objects."
This may very well be the first time Ignis has ever heard Noctis angry. At least in this aspect. Frustrated, yes, plenty of times; but... angry? He gives Gladio a look for confirmation; the other man just shrugs a little, obviously uncertain as well.
"We'll talk about how he spoke to me later; but, he is right about one thing, at least. Ravus had no right to tell Prompto he doesn't belong here." Noctis looks ready to protest; but, Gladio cuts him off with a firm tone, "Noctis. I am the King's Shield. My family always has been and always will be. Being referred to as such isn't an insult. From Ravus? Yeah, sure, it's annoying; but, that isn't new. He's said it to my father's face and mine plenty of times."
"I mean... that's still not really a reason for how he was talking to you." Prompto puts in, quiet and obviously uncertain he's allowed to have an opinion on the matter. He looks a little more comfortable when Noctis gives an agreeing nod. "You aren't just the shield and you aren't something that can't think for itself. You're a soldier. A trainer. A person. He shouldn't be allowed to talk to you like that, just because you're not royalty."
Gladio sighs and Ignis puts a hand on his shoulder to tell him to let it go; at the same time, he meets Prompto's confused look and offers a small smile, "We understand you mean well. But, it will take quite a bit more than Ravus to upset either of us. We do appreciate the sentiment, however. Now... the King and Queen are... quite appropriately upset. Let's try to diffuse this as gently as possible—"
"No need, Iggy." Gladio finally shrugs the hand off his shoulder, just as another pair of Crownsguard round the corner on patrol. He waves to them in passing before gesturing the group towards the board room. "Prompto's got all the proof we need that Ravus was out of line."
Noctis and Prompto fall into step a few paces behind them; Ignis keeps close to Gladio and lowers his voice, hoping the other two can't hear him, "Dare I ask?"
"Don't know how much you heard from Ravus; but, he dropped in during a training session. I asked Prompto to record it; kid never turned his camera off, so he got the whole thing on film."
The information is enough to give Ignis pause, his mind racing to process the information and work out various scenarios of how this could play out. Still, he sighs before rolling his shoulders back, stopping outside of the intended meeting room, "This outcome is horrendously uncertain."
Behind him, Noctis gives a small grumble of agreement; but, out the corner of his eye, Ignis can see the way he grips Prompto's hand in reassurance and smiles a little. Perhaps this won't go quite so badly as he considers. At least... he thinks so. Until he and Gladio push the doors open and stand to the sides to let Noctis enter before them (notes the way he's released Prompto's hand, the way Prompto falls into line at his shoulder once more). Once they've closed the doors, he and Gladio remain stationed there, shoulders drawn back, hands clasped firmly behind their backs and only exchange quick looks before turning their attention to the scene before them.
Ignis has been in the board room countless times—various strategy briefings, international relations meetings, just meeting other Crowns and Glaives—but he's never felt quite this much pressure. At the head of the long table—large enough to comfortably fit fourteen people—is King Regis. To his right, Queen Sylva, with Ravus at her shoulder. Ravus' lips are set in a thin line, though the expression curls into a sneer when he spots Prompto. Standing at the king's left shoulder is his own Shield; Gladio's father regards both of them, beckons them forward with a simple gesture (they comply and settle into place with Ignis at Noctis' right shoulder and Gladio just a little further left of Prompto, ready to intercept Ravus if it becomes necessary), before his attention returns to where Noctis and Prompto are standing at the opposite end of the table.
For how nervous he is, Prompto's done a remarkable job holding his ground. There's a subtle tremble, but he's doing his best to stand tall next to Noctis and not fidget so much. His fingers curl and uncurl, arms at his side so he doesn't mess with his camera more, worrying at the sleeves of his jacket to keep busy; but, otherwise he's still. Noctis, too, is doing well to stay calm. He's still tense; his muscles are locked and Ignis worries he may actually faint from it. But, he's taking deep, steady and controlled, breaths. He's willing to do this and Ignis is extremely proud of him... but... he's also worried.
♣
Noctis isn't really sure how he's still breathing, right now.
Normally, talking to his father is easy. It's safe. Relaxing. Inviting. Familiar.
But this? This is nothing like that. This is tense and heavy and oppressive and he can feel the disappointed frown, even when he lets his eyes drift down to the table. Maybe this is a bad idea....
Out the corner of his eye, he sees Ravus glaring. Not at him, for once; but, at Prompto. So, he clenches his fists, takes another deep breath, and reminds himself that he needs to do this. When he looks up this time, he meets his father's eye, steadily, and manages to hold the look, "You summoned us?"
He doesn't need to be formal. But, he still waits for the invitation to be the son instead of the crown prince.
His father's frown falls for a moment—surprise taking over for a moment. A hint of pride. But he draws the expression back into neutrality and gives a slow nod before his attention drifts to his right, "We summoned you, Noctis. Gladiolus, Ignis: at ease, if you please."
Noctis feels the two relax a little; Ignis' arms drop from clasped firmly behind his back to his hands being clasped loosely at his front. Gladio's posture relaxes, but his arms remain clasped firmly behind his back, his attention remaining on Ravus and apparently oblivious to the look Clarus tries to give him. Likely trying to silently tell his son to calm down, though it isn't quite as effective as it should be.
Regis speaking draws his attention back and he quickly turns his attention from his retainers.
"Before we begin... perhaps you would like to introduce your guest?" Regis asks, calmly, making no indication for what all Ravus has told him, "A schoolmate?"
"Oh, right... dad, this is Prompto. Prompto, this is—" he trails off, hesitates. He can't really encourage the lack of formality; luckily, Prompto seems to catch on and gives a quick, nervously sloppy bow.
"King Regis of Lucis. Yeah, I-I know. It's—"
"None of that, for now." Regis cuts him off as gently as he can, making a dismissive gesture. To his right, Ravus' jaw clenches tighter; Noctis isn't sure he imagines it, but Ravus looks absolutely livid with the treatment. If his father notices, he doesn't say anything, and merely resumes addressing them—specifically, addressing Noctis. "Ravus says you attacked him. Is that true?"
"Yes, sir."
For the first time in the conversation, Queen Sylva's expression changes from patient to surprised and she glances back at Regis before regarding Noctis again, "You've nothing to say for yourself, Prince Noctis?"
For a moment, there's silence. Noctis catches Prompto's wrist to stop him from jumping into the conversation and takes another deep breath, "I reacted out of line. I acknowledge it was a mistake to attack Tenebrae's prince. But I'm not going to apologise to him." He meets Ravus' eye, squarely, as he's speaking, and almost forgets his father and Queen Sylva are present, "Not until he apologises to Prompto and Gladio."
"I'll do no such thing—" Ravus starts, only to be cut off by Regis raising his hand for silence.
"Let him finish, Ravus. We've heard what you had to say on the matter. You did not mention Gladiolus was part of this altercation. Noctis, if you would explain? Ravus attacked your retainer? Or your guest?"
Noctis hesitates at that; but, he's gotten this far and shakes his head a little, "Not... physically, no. I guess... Gladio said he didn't really attack him, either. But, he did attack Prompto."
"Gladio?" Clarus speaks up this time, his attention on his son with a questioning expression, "What is he talking about?"
"Nothing, sir. A minor issue of address, nothing to worry about. I told him as much afterwards." Gladio finally takes his eyes off Ravus to regard his own father, "That's been handled; but, I'm inclined to agree with Prince Noctis. Regardless of how he addresses me, Prince Ravus had no reason—no right," he makes a point of throwing Ravus another glower, "to address a guest the way he did."
Clarus nods and gives Regis a small side glance and tips his head as a silent apology for interrupting; Regis doesn't look the least bit bothered, however and merely looks between the four, clearly waiting for someone to expound on the information. Noctis picks back up this time, feeling a little bit better—more confident—from having Gladio speak, even if he still doesn't agree.
"Ravus interrupted our training session and—even though he was informed that Prompto was here as my guesst—told him he didn't belong." Noctis gives Ravus a narrowed look, partially daring him to try arguing; but, mostly just making a point to show he's still upset, "To which I'll say again: not for you to decide, Ravus."
"And I'll reiterate that you are in no position to attack anyone based on fact." Ravus' tone is sharp, biting; and, despite the choice of words, it's rather clear he means Noctis has no right to attack him. "A commoner you picked up at school being invited in so casually? That your father's never even heard of, at that—so, quite literally, someone you just met being invited into the heart of Insomnia."
"With all due respect, Prince Ravus," Ignis interjects this time, without missing a beat, without letting the words weigh to heavily on Noctis, "He cleared the request with Gladio and me and it's not as though Prompto was wandering around on his own. How long he's known Prompto is entirely irrelevant; but, if you would like that information...?"
He leaves the invitation open and Noctis nods a little, "I guess, officially, we met yesterday. Day before, technically, but we actually started talking yesterday."
He feels Prompto brush their hands together and gives him a quick look; the blonde has a hesitant expression but makes a small gesture towards the table with his head, like he's asking for permission to speak, and Noctis gives a short nod to assure him it's ok. The inhale is shaky, at best, and he doesn't step out from behind Noctis; but, he manages to keep his voice at a level volume and mostly steady.
"He just wanted to help with my project—I mean, ok, yeah, we got off to a kinda rocky start; but, we're good now—and I wasn't trying to be outta line, talkin' to Prince Ravus, but—"
Of all people, Queen Sylva is the one that sits up straighter. Behind her, Ravus' eyes narrow at Prompto—suspicion replacing hostility—while the queen looks alarmed. Prompto immediately snaps his mouth shut and Noctis can practically feel the way he shrinks further behind all three of them. Confused, Noctis looks between the queen and Prompto, trying to figure out what he said to elicit this kind of reaction. It really doesn't help that Gladio and Ignis look equally confused, as does his father. Clarus looks mildly suspicious, but... also like he isn't entirely certain he's made the proper conclusion.
"Sylva, is everything all right?" Regis asks in a careful drawl, a cautious venture.
"I—of course, I just—Prompto, you said?" Prompto gives a short nod and Queen Sylva's brows draw into a furrow. "Prompto, would you... repeat the way you said my son's name, please?"
As terrified of the situation as he is, Prompto looks confused beyond all belief. He looks between Noctis and Ignis and Gladio, quietly begging for an answer none of them have before he finally complies, "Uh, sure...? Prince Ravus. I mean... that's what everyone else is callin' him, so I—?"
Noctis figures it out (and Ignis, he notes) a split second before Ravus makes an accusatory gesture, his tone seething as he turns on Regis, "With all due respect, your majesty, I highly advise you throw that thing out immediately!"
"Ravus!" Queen Sylva's tone is one of warning, despite the fact she looks shaken up. "There's no need for that now... it is highly probable that Prince Noctis is merely unaware of his new... friend's origin."
Despite the fact she's been remarkably open to the entire discussion so far, the queen's quite clearly shifted to her son's defense—
Noctis frowns as the words sink in—not Ravus'; those hit immediately and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to warp into the man a second time—and he moves in front of Prompto in a protective gesture. Ignis and Gladio step closer, as well, in a similar manner, all three of them easily shielding Prompto in case things do take a turn for the worst, "Meaning?"
"Manners." Regis warns him before turning his attention back to Queen Sylva, "I'm afraid I require clarification, Sylva, if you would be so kind?"
"I suppose it has been a good many years since you've traveled outside of Lucis." Sylva's tone is still unsteady and, despite the fact she is clearly addressing Regis, her attention bores through Noctis, still locked on Prompto as though the other three aren't there, "There has been severe unrest across the sea, Regis. Nothing outside of my realm of control, just yet... but... as you know, Tenebrae and Niflheim have never been amicable with one another, despite multiple attempts." Her attention finally strays to Noctis, to his retainers. His father looks surprised—an unusual expression, that makes Noctis feel uncomfortable—but the queen just regards the three of them steadily, "You do not seem alarmed by my implication. You knew the boy's origin and still brought him here?"
"Lucis—Insomnia, especially—has always been a safe haven for refugees." Ignis states, a foreign iciness to his words that Noctis has never heard. To his left, he feels Gladio go tense with the tone and watches his hand clench a few times, like he's restraining himself. If Ignis—if anyone else notices—they don't say anything and his retainer continues, "Your concerns are acknowledged Queen Sylva and, truly, I had every intention of informing both you and King Regis that Prince Noctis brought a guest. Prince Ravus, quite unfortunately, merely did so before I could. In a considerably less favourable manner, at that. If you wish to have Prompto removed from the Citadel, Gladio and I will comply. However," His tone is a bit stricter, likely to cut Noctis' protest off and also hold the Tenebrae family's attention, his eyes narrowing at Ravus similar to Gladio's earlier expression, "if we do, I assume you'll have me waiting outside before long. Or did it perhaps slip your mind, Prince Ravus, that my family was in Niflheim during the last attempt to break the peace treaty? That my uncle did indeed stop through Tenebrae to have a blight-infected wound treated and I had to undergo several obligatory exams to ensure I hadn't contracted any of the Star Scourge illness myself?"
He lets the words sink in for a short moment, long enough to watch the hostility draining from Ravus' features, to let Queen Sylva consider the words, before he lets out a slow breath, "It is true that I was born in Lucis and that makes a significant difference, compared to Prompto being born in Niflheim; however, that does not change the fact I spent quite a few of my formative years in Niflheim. As I recall, that was one of the leading causes of concern when I was assigned as Prince Noctis' retainer. That being said, I did not intend to attack Tenebrae's policies; I thoroughly understand your concerns, Queen Sylva, and the policy of Tenebrae in regards to Niflheim. Your wariness of the nation speaks well of your reign; but, this is not Tenebrae. This is not a port city. That Prompto managed to get into the Crown City speaks well enough—that he would have been thoroughly examined at one of our port cities and a second time upon entering Insomnia and enrolling in one of our most prestigious schools. As I recall, Prompto," His attention shifts to regard the blonde for a moment; if Prompto looks anywhere near as surprised as Noctis, Ignis doesn't comment, instead making idle conversation, "You mentioned that there are plenty of people that know you're from Niflheim."
"Uh—right, yeah." Prompto shakes his head a few quick times, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, "Some people pick up that my accent is different. The first week I was here, I only had clothes from Niflheim. I've gotten rid of most of them, by now; but, the empire has a registry number on any citizen's clothes. It's an identification mark—kinda like a dog tag, I guess? Didn't have a reason to keep wearing them here, so... soon as I could get new clothes, I did... why?"
"You also mentioned being tight on money. Clothes could have surely waited." Ignis' voice changed back to its normal tone the second he began speaking to Prompto; gentle and guiding, but clearly intent on making a point, "So, why replace clothes first?"
“Because—oh.” Prompto catches on and shuffles in his spot a moment before he finally answers, “Because… some people were giving me trouble about it. Nothing serious, I mean—I wasn’t being attacked… but, the looks followed me around and people weren’t really quiet about it, either. I know Niflheim’s got a bad rep… honestly, the empire deserves it, but… I mean, far as I’ve seen… citizens aren’t so different.” He offers a half shrug, obviously uncertain how to make any more sense than he is but also aware that the thought is rather incomplete compared to Ignis.
Even then, Ignis just gives a small nod, a thin smile of thanks before his attention turns back to Ravus, completely overlooking Queen Sylva, “I think you’ve made that point rather well, Prince Ravus. I thoroughly agree that we should be wary on a national level; but, towards an individual? An individual that, I might point out, hasn’t made a single threat to either royal family and has even been a rather positive influence on Prince Noctis. We acknowledge your concerns. We understand the position you are in as the head of Tenebrae's militaristic forces as they are and your role in handling relations with Niflheim. But this is not Tenebrae. You are a guest, just as much as Prompto is. ... While I've very little else to lose in this conversation, I will reiterate Prince Noctis' words: You have no right to speak to Gladio the way you've been known to. He is the Sworn Shield; but, he is just as much an advisor to the prince, as I am. Honestly, I would dare to say you should be apologising to your mother, just as much as our prince, for this mess."
Noctis has never known Ignis to speak out against any of the nobility—even when during his first few strategy meetings, when he was mocked for his age, he held his tongue and earned respect through demonstration and success. To his left, he kind of notices Gladio giving Ignis a significantly annoyed look—one he can't quite deciper, but assumes it to be in regards to Ravus' issues addressing him. He hopes he's right, because the idea of Ignis agreeing with him on that matter makes him feel that much more hopeful to get it through to Gladio. The only bad part...
"Ignis," Regis finally speaks up after determining that he's spoken his mind, "We will speak about your backlash at a later date. I do concede your point—we have accepted refugee when and where we can, regardless of their origins. We should not condemn a citizen for the actions of their nation. Noctis, should you decide to invite Prompto to the Citadel in the future, you are to speak to Clarus, Cor, or Drautos prior. Do you understand?"
Noctis wants to argue at least against Ignis' punishment; but, he just gives a slow nod, "Yes, sir."
Next to him, Ignis tips his head in acknowledgement to the piece aimed at him, as well and makes no fuss. Even knowing he's in some degree of trouble, he hardly looks fazed and not the least bit apologetic for tearing into Ravus. At the head of the table, Regis lets out a slow breath and turns his attention back to Sylva, “I will trust you to handle your son, Sylva. It is unfortunate that your visit has come to this; but, I will not allow one guest to single out another, regardless of station. Noctis,” his attention moves to the end of the table, regarding the four collectively before focusing on his son, “I will not put any more pressure on your guest. We will continue this conversation at a later date and I expect a full explanation for how this came about, do you understand?”
“If I may, your majesty,” Ignis speaks up, voice back to a calmly neutral tone that seems to help everyone relax, and makes a passing gesture towards Prompto while simultaneously glancing at Gladio from the corner of his eye, “If I’ve understood the situation correctly—do correct me if I’m wrong, Gladio—the reason there was even a training session to begin with, despite hosting company, was the hope Prompto would be able to assist with Prince Noctis’... issues… when he warps.”
Gladio gives a short nod to show it’s nothing that needs to concern Clarus or Regis, “I won’t pretend to understand how warping works for your family, your majesty; but, Prince Noctis stumbling when he warps is a flaw that needs to be worked out now, in the comfort of a practice session, as opposed to out in a life-or-death battle. I suggested Prompto record the session; if Prince Noctis sees where he’s stumbling, he may be able to fix it himself.” He shrugs one shoulder, “Of course, this also implies warping works anything like regular combat. If this doesn’t work, I intended to ask some of the Glaives for their input, at your convenience, your majesty.”
Regis doesn’t look the least bit surprised by the information—well. About Noctis having trouble warping. That part makes his lips twitch into a small smile before he reins in his expression and gives a slow nod, his attention falling to where Prompto’s camera is hanging around his neck like he’s only just noticed it, “I see. Prompto, would you mind too much if Ignis held onto that for the evening after you leave? I’ll have it returned post haste, but I would like to review this footage for myself.”
“Uh… sure? I mean, yes, sir.” Prompto looks down at his camera, over at Ignis, then back to Regis, “I just need it back before the week ends. If—if that’s okay, I mean—”
“That will be more than enough time, thank you.” Regis tips his head in a gesture of thanks, “With that being settled for the moment: Noctis, Ravus.” He waits until he has both of their undivided attentions, his tone heavier, stricter than it has been for the rest of the meeting, “You two will be wise to avoid one another for the remainder of this week, I hope. I do not want to hear word of this happening a second time. Do you both understand me?”
The confirmations are drastically different. Noctis shuffles in his spot before muttering a sheepish ‘yes, sir’ while Ravus’ is strained through clenched teeth. He doesn’t retaliate, likely realises he’s lost this particular battle, and merely glares after them once Regis gives a dismissing wave. Gladio and Ignis lead them back to the door and, same as entering, open the doors and stand aside to let the high schoolers pass. Noctis pauses when he notices Prompto isn’t with him and looks over his shoulder. The blonde is still standing at the table, fidgeting in his spot and biting hard on his lip like he’s uncertain he wants to say what’s on his mind. Before Noctis can even attempt to walk back and try convincing him to leave, Regis regards him with a calm expression and a simple inquiry, “Did you have something to add?”
“...It’s gonna be outta line,” Prompto admits, his tone unsteady, despite the way he tries to maintain a brave face, “Figure it won’t hurt to get it out of the way, though. I know it isn’t my place to make demands or suggestions or anything similar; but, I’d really rather show you the video now, if it’s all the same, your majesty.”
The dialect tics are stronger when he’s nervous and, now that Noctis knows about them, he can distinguish them painstakingly easy from the tics around Insomnia. It’s no wonder Queen Sylva picked up on them so quickly. Still, he hesitates and looks back towards Gladio and Ignis for input, quietly asking if they should stop him; Gladio looks hesitant and like he wants to agree… but, Ignis shakes his head, slowly, and just keeps watching scene unfold. He does, at the very least, motion for Noctis to rejoin Prompto. Likely as moral support, given that he and Gladio remain where they are; but, this is support Noctis is more than willing to offer and he quickly heads back to stand with Prompto, brushing against his shoulder lightly to make his presence known and also offer him a small bit of security.
Prompto jumps on contact; but, it does seem to calm him down almost immediately. He takes a deep breath and manages to hold eye contact with Regis for a few minutes, “I’ll still leave the camera with Ignis, if you’d like. But, the whole point of this.... Meeting… was to figure out what happened at the training session that lead up to the meeting. If Queen Sylva’s gonna handle Prince Ravus and you’re gonna talk to Noct later… shouldn’t you see the video first?”
His eyes fall back to the table almost as soon as the last, shaky word leaves his lips and shuffles in his spot, like he’s getting ready to apologise and brush himself off. Surprisingly enough, Clarus is the one that speaks up first, before Regis or Sylva can react.
“He does have a point. We can review the actual combat footage at a later date; but, if you wish to reprimand the princes efficiently, viewing the video now would be most beneficial. Thank you, Prompto.” Clarus makes a beckoning gesture for them to join the head of the table. Once they do, Clarus moves around to stand at Regis’ right shoulder, allowing Prompto to set his camera down on the table and angle it so all three adults can see the small display monitor. He toys with the buttons for a few minutes, fast-forwarding, adjusting the volume as best he can, and finally hits play.