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Ignis assumed that, at 32, he would no longer have to play mother to their group. Not as often, anyway. Noctis was a king now, Gladio remained his shield and Prompto had taken up the position of captain of the Crownsguard. They had a nation to rebuild. They had been through hell together and now everyone was looking to them for a new, brighter future.
The point was that Ignis should not be convincing Noctis, 114th King of Lucis and grown man, to get out of bed.
“I don’t care what wager you and Prompto made, you are the king. You have responsibilities. Get up.” Ignis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t even midday yet.
“I will!”
“Good.”
“When he shaves.”
Ignis sighs again for what must be the tenth time that morning, while Gladio snorts in the background. He had been absolutely no help – Ignis wasn’t sure why he thought he would be. He shoots a glare back at Gladio for his efforts.
“You could help, you know.”
Gladio shrugged in response, like it wasn’t somewhat also his job to make Noctis do his.
“Already tried. Prompto’s not budging either. We’re gonna have to start looking into a new form of government.”
Ignis was just about ready to physically drag Noctis out when he heard the bedroom door open, a happy humming indicating that the newly appointed Crownsguard captain had walked through. Perfect, maybe Ignis could reason with Prompto. Maybe he could call off this wager so Noctis could get up.
Maybe he could rely on the slight fear Prompto once had of him. It was a long shot and a low blow, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He was sure no one had ever forced Regis to get out of bed over a stupid bet.
“Prompto, would you please end whatever game you and Noctis are playing so he can actually do his job.” From the bed there was a slightly indignant sound, but Ignis was prepared to ignore Noctis until he was ready to be an adult.
It seemed he might have to add Prompto to that as well, as the blonde looked almost instantly offended.
“No way! I like it; it makes me look more grown up!”
“Couldn’t you just grow your hair out instead?” Gladio suggested, finally being helpful in his own way. At this point, Ignis appreciated any help he could get.
He was so close to getting someone else to deal with this – he had his own job to do and it didn’t allow him several hours to try and coax their man-child king out of bed.
“Maybe, but I’m not shaving anyway.”
“Prompto, please, I promise you will still be very handsome if you do shave – can one of you be an adult for a few minutes?” Ignis’ tone was starting to take on a mildly hysterical edge. This whole situation was ridiculous, something he would have expected of Prompto and Noctis ten years ago.
They had survived so much more since then. Ignis had just hoped they had matured with their experience but apparently that was too much to hope for.
“No can do, Igster. Can’t let him win, you know?” Prompto gleefully skipped over to the sofa in the corner and threw himself down, a slight edge of exhaustion showing. Ignis had to give him credit – he had taken up the mantle of training the new recruits with a dedication that surely must have made Cor proud.
If only he could be as responsible behind closed doors. Prompto and Noctis’ childish natures could be charming, even endearing at times, but today was not one of those times. Gladio shrugged before joining Prompto on the sofa, looking like he was settling in for the long haul.
This was not going to be a long-term thing. Not on Ignis’ watch. They had better things to do.
“Noctis.”
“Specs.”
“This is completely ridiculous. You cannot ignore your responsibilities over a personal wager, and a completely immature one at that.” He got a non-committal hum in response, like Noctis was taking some kind of pleasure in this.
Wait a minute.
Ignis took a second to think. He was so used to having to coax a younger Noctis out of bed that it had just come naturally to him. But Noctis had never really brought up disliking Prompto’s facial hair to this degree before, and even if he did he would deal with it because Prompto was happy with it.
Not to mention that Noctis had actually been doing rather well as king. He wanted to do his father proud – shirking off like this would accomplish the opposite of that.
Ignis wasn’t sure how he had missed this, or why it had taken this long for him to come to this realisation.
“You two set us up.” He announced. Gladio hummed in interest, looking between Noctis and Prompto while the two of them seemed to be trying to stifle giggles. Noctis at least had the bedsheets to cover his face (though Ignis could see his form shaking beneath them) while Prompto had buried his face under his hands, eyes lit up with mirth.
“No we didn’t!” The blonde announced, voice shaking with the effort of trying to be serious. Noctis had now peaked out from under the blankets with a similar look on his face. It was one Ignis hadn’t seen since they were much younger and first exploring the world.
Even now, it suited them so well that Ignis almost forgot to be annoyed at them.
Almost.
“How long were you intending on having this go on?” Ignis asked, exasperation in his tone, at the same time Gladio muttered something about little shits. Silently, Ignis agreed.
He never got an answer, Noctis and Prompto still giggling to themselves even as Noctis finally rolled out of bed, fully dressed and clearly ready to get on with the day.
Some things just never changed, he supposed.