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‘Walk tall, my friends.’
The words of a man on the verge of death, ready to face his destiny finally. Ignis could picture the scene in his mind, of Noctis standing straight on the steps, his hair down and wet from the never ending rain in Insomnia. Was he smiling? Was he looking at them with confidence or with fear in his eyes. Despite how long he tried he couldn’t picture Noctis any other way then how he had last seen him, a boy with a burden to grand for someone his age. In his mind he imagined Noctis in all his glory, the attire of a King he’d once seen him try on and with his blue eyes still as bright and lovely as he remembered. He pictured him smiling and confident, something to ease the pain he knew he would have felt if he’d actually seen Noctis in this moment. For once he felt blessed with his blindness.
Out of habit he looked down for a moment, still seeing nothing but darkness as he heard the steps of the only light he’d ever needed in his life ascend the stairs. He knew there were more pressing things then to imagine watching Noctis walk away but in this moment he lingered. He called forth his blades, the weapons he’d be entrusted to protect Noctis with and almost dropped them. This was foolish, holding such things when he was hearing Noctis walk off to his death. He was supposed to keep Noctis safe, not lead him to his demise. Unfortunately he didn’t have much time to focus on the King walking away since his name from Gladio’s deep voice brought him back to reality. He turned then, facing an unknown Daemon surely. The heavy sound of metal against metal, the way the floor almost vibrated with each step alerted him of what he faced. Iron giants, and a lot of them were before him, not a very fair fight for just the three of them but life had never been rather fair to any of them.
For a moment in the fighting, Ignis questioned the rain that was pouring down on them. It was harsh and drenching them and he knew without even his vision it was making it harder for Gladiolus and Prompto to fight. He had no trouble in it, already used to the years without his vision though the slippery ground was a bit troublesome. He’d earned his own share of scars and bruises in this fight and no matter how many times he heard a giant fall, another seemed to take it’s place after. They must have thought to tire the three of them out until they gave themselves to their end but Ignis wouldn’t give up. He had promised years ago and once more now that he’d be with Noctis till the end, he’d not yet let a Daemon pass into that throne room.
What felt like hours upon hours hadn’t actually been as long a fight. By the time the Daemons stopped coming, the rain had seemed to let out into nothing more then a shower. A turn towards where he could hear Gladiolus taking his sword in arms again had him hesitating. “Is there more?” He’d asked, unable to hear any such foe.
Gladiolus shook his head out of habit before answering him. He looked towards the palace stairs and then back at Ignis. “No, you’re good Iggy. Go to him.”
It was all the confirmation he needed before he went off in a sprint. The whole fight he had thought of nothing but his precious King. It was a foolish move on his half, he could have been distracted and killed before even touching his King once more. He knew up ahead there was uncertainty, Noctis had been sent to die and though their goodbyes had been the night prior; a proper goodbye between the two of them while Gladiolus and Prompto had given them space, he still wasn’t ready to give up his King.
Forty steps to the top, he counted them by twos to make sure he didn’t trip and once there he flung the doors open. He kept running until he reached the throne room. A strange sense of peace enveloped him as the doors closed behind him. There was nary a sound in the room save for the rain hitting the marbled floor in small puddles. Had it been any other place the noise would be relaxing but not hearing Noctis had him worried. He stepped forward and was almost spooked by how loud his shoes sounded against the relative silence around him. He knew like the back of his hand how far the throne was from where he stood, slowly he ascended the stairs as he let his hands linger on the walls that once were so elegant and exquisite yet now were crumbled and broken.
A gloved hand trailed from the walls to the throne, the wet marble feeling so cold under his touch until he went lower and his hand met another with warmth. Noctis.
Warmth was good, warmth meant his beloved was still there. He felt that hand under his move and turn to grasp his own. Ignis fell to his knees by the King, and once his legs were against the floor he felt the warmth of something else much more ghastly. He was kneeling in blood, Noctis blood and it was too much for him to possibly live through. The fact he was still alive enough to hold him had Ignis admiring the will of the King of Kings.
“My King…” His voice trailed as he felt that hand take his towards lips, shaking lips that had a bit of wetness to them. It was then he heard the sharp intake of breath and knew that Noctis was crying.
“Ignis…” The voice from his King broke his heart with how weak it sounded. He wanted to help Noctis but from the blood alone he knew no potion or phoenix down would help him. He was pulled up by his hand and he followed, feeling something pressed against him and with his other hand found it to be a sword. Noctis was impaled yet still moving. He tugged once more on Ignis’ hand and Ignis moved close, mindful of the weapon.
“Noct-” His words were cut off as Noctis was able to pull him down enough for a last kiss, another goodbye the two of them could share. Ignis didn’t know anymore if it was Noctis’ tears or the rain that still dared to fall through cracks in the ceiling that was making his face wet, perhaps it was even his own. It made the kiss too wet,a mess but still as perfect as any kiss they’d shared in their years together. It was perhaps even the best and most memorable kiss they’d shared and it lasted until that warmth faded against him, it lasted until those lips against his own wouldn’t move any longer and were instead permanently formed into a smile for eternity.
“Rest, my beloved King. You needn’t carry that burden any longer.” Ignis’ hand gently caressed the cold face, taking into memory every inch of his face before collapsing against the throne, joining the rain in mourning for a love that had been taken too soon from him.