Work Text:
Gone Fishin’
It was the first summer where the sun was finally out. The weather was nice – not too warm – as if the world was still trying to get back to normal. The waves gently lapped against the sides of the Royal Vessel, and gulls were crying out as they hovered over the boat. Aranea thought about maybe going for a swim. It had been ten years since she’d been able to do so safely. She wondered if she even remembered how. Maybe swimming was like riding a bike – something you never forget.
Only a year ago, the ocean was littered with dead bodies.
That was something that was hard to forget, too.
She shivered and had to look away for a moment. She took a breath and reminded herself that time was over. A voice beside her startled her back to the present before she drifted too far into the past.
“Ready to go fishing?”
Aranea glanced over at Ignis, nearly forgetting he was here with her. He was fully dressed, even in this weather, and he was awkwardly holding both fishing poles in one hand. Aranea felt a familiar blush of embarrassment in her cheeks and quickly looked away again.
“I’d rather try catching the fish with my bare hands,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll be just as successful.”
He chuckled and moved toward the end of the boat and started setting everything up. Aranea was glad he couldn’t see her reaction. She blew out a long breath towards her bangs, took another moment to herself, and then finally moved to join him.
She made sure he took his seat first before taking hers. Just in case. She should have known better considering she was the one who trained him during all those years in the darkness. Still . . . better safe than sorry. Aranea busied herself putting the bait on the hook, feeling the silence hovering between them like a heavy fog. Addressing it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Noct was good at this,” Ignis said suddenly, grabbing her attention again. This was the first time she’d heard him say his name since . . . Well, since the prince didn’t come back.
King, she reminded herself. He had been king. The world was still trying to figure out what to do about the loss of the royal family. In more ways than one. Aranea detected no sadness in Ignis’ tone. Still, just seeing the way his jaw had clenched after he’d said it told her everything she needed to know.
“He never bothered to teach you?” Aranea asked, casting her line out. Waiting was the hard part. We waited ten years for his sorry ass to come back, and then he just ups and dies. She was trying her damndest not to be bitter. Just like it seemed Ignis was trying his damndest not to be sad.
“I never bothered to learn,” he responded. “My job was to cook the fish, not catch them. I never thought I’d have to.”
He cast his line out. There was silence between them again. What did he expect Aranea to say? She wasn’t good at the whole comforting thing.
Still, she wanted to try.
“I never thought I’d have to do this, either,” she said. “Never thought I’d have to do a lot of the shit I did. But we’re still here. Somehow.”
“Because of him,” Ignis replied.
That got under her skin real bad. Aranea flinched. Words bubbled up her throat but she swallowed them down. “If that’s what you think.”
“It’s what I know.”
“You don’t know a goddamn . . .” She snapped. Bit back the rest of what she wanted to say. Released a very tense breath. “Never mind. I’m not going to get into this again.”
“Why are you so against -- ?”
“Why do you want to keep bringing this up? Furthermore, why did you even decide to come with me? Like, why are you even here? Our partnership was done the moment he came back, so why are we even continuing this charade?” Stop. That’s enough.
“I simply wanted to help,” he said calmly.
Aranea scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I don’t need your help. OK? I don’t need you. For anything.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“And yet, you still persist.”
“You used to say that was one of my best traits.” He even smiled as he said that. The bastard.
“I’m starting to regret everything.” Once again, Aranea was grateful he couldn’t see her. He couldn’t see the wounds in her expression. Couldn’t see her eyes welling with stupid tears she blinked away.
At least he wasn’t smiling anymore.
He rested one of his hands on his knee. “Ara, about that night–”
She held up her pointer finger like a weapon. She spoke through her teeth. “Don’t. Even. And don’t call me that. Don’t you ever call me that.”
She wasn’t starting to regret everything. She already did. Especially the night she’d learned he had just left her behind. One more event to haunt her before she slept. Though this one wasn’t nearly as traumatic, it hurt just as badly. She really should have known better. But she was often told she was a glutton for punishment.
“Apologies,” Ignis murmured.
Aranea ignored it. He was only saying that because she was upset. He could care less otherwise. This knowledge irritated her even further. She restlessly tapped her foot on the deck, feeling years of resentment, fear, and despair curling tightly into a fist inside her gut.
This summer was going to suck.
“Could you please not do that?” Ignis asked after a while of her ceaseless tapping.
“I guess I could,” Aranea replied and continued to do it anyway. She got a childish sense of satisfaction when she heard him sigh in exasperation. She didn’t realize she could be so petty until she’d started training with Ignis. He always seemed to bring this irrational anger out of her, one that she’d thought she’d buried deep, but was always ready to bite the second he started talking. Maybe it was that “I’m-too-good-for-this” attitude he carried around with him everywhere he went. Or maybe it was that sense of self-righteousness.
She used to like these qualities about him.
Aranea flinched, feeling as though a needle had pricked her heart. She glanced over at Ignis, who seemed to be sitting there so calmly and collectively, like nothing bad had ever happened. She almost felt sick.
“I think we should go back,” she announced suddenly.
He turned his head in her direction. “What?”
“I know you’re not deaf. I said we should go back. We’ve barely caught anything. Most of the fish are still probably dead. And this isn’t exactly the best thing for either of us.” She fiddled with the fishing line. “We should go back,” she repeated, softer this time.
It was deadly quiet for a long time. Even the gulls had stopped calling, as if they, too, were waiting for Ignis’ response.
“No,” he said at last.
Aranea sighed. “What’s the point?”
“Are you really so ready to give up?”
“I’m ready to face facts. That’s the difference between you and me.”
“You and I.”
“Screw you. You’re the worst. I should have never allowed you to come with me on this trip. I should have never . . .” She had to stop because she couldn’t fight back her tears and spew out her words at the same time. And she’d be damned if he found out she was crying. Especially over him of all people.
“Aranea,” he said gently and she hated him for it. She hated him and she –
No.
She wasn’t going to do this to herself again.
“What?” she snapped.
“I’m sorry.”
Her breath hitched. She hadn’t expected that. Not from Mr. Impossibly Perfect over there. She didn’t doubt his sincerity; she just didn’t want to accept it. Nobody ever said she was easy to deal with.
“Yeah, well you can take your apology and shove it,” she said.
“Why did you agree to let me come with you, especially if all you’re going to be is antagonistic towards me?”
“Like I don’t have a reason to be.”
“I wasn’t saying you didn’t. I was merely –”
“I felt sorry for you,” Aranea snapped. “Same reason why I agreed to train you. I pitied you.”
It was quiet for a long time. She knew that had to sting a little. From what Aranea knew, Ignis hadn’t spent much time with Blondie and the meathead. She supposed some things would never be the same. Some facts were hard to accept. Some things were hard to admit. Aranea almost took back what she said, but why should she? It wasn’t like he ever stopped to consider that he wasn’t the only one hurting.
“You don’t mean that,” Ignis said softly, as if he was trying to convince himself.
“Pfft. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
It got quiet again. Uncomfortably so. When Aranea looked over at Ignis, she could see his jaw was clenched and it made her sigh impatiently.
“So then you really are giving up,” Ignis suddenly said.
Aranea stood up, done with this whole conversation and this stupid trip. How could she have ever thought she could just get away from it all? “I’m driving us back to shore,” she announced as she began to walk away.
Aranea heard Ignis’ footsteps hurrying after her. Aranea thought she was already far enough away, but within seconds she felt Ignis’ hand around her wrist.
“Let me go,” she snarled.
“No. Not until I’ve had my say. And then you can do whatever you wish. You can take us back. You can never speak to me again if that’s what you really want.”
Aranea studied his face for a moment, wanting to deny him, but she couldn’t force the words out, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, she sighed and then said, “Fine.”
Surprisingly, he let her go, and turned towards the sea, almost as if he was looking beyond the waters. Aranea didn’t need to see his hands to know he was holding the railing with an iron grip. It took Ignis so long to say something that she almost walked away, but after clearing his throat, he finally began.
“I knew he was going to die,” he said. Aranea didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. “I knew the whole time we spent fighting in the darkness. I knew when he returned, it would be for the last time.”
“I’m sorry,” Aranea said softly. Because what else could you say to something like that? The king had been Ignis’ whole life, and now he was desperately trying to find a new one. She could tell Ignis was still struggling with it. The darkness hadn’t left them entirely. There were still remnants lingering in places that were hard to ignore. She wondered if they could ever truly be free from it. What would their life be like then?
It was hard to imagine. And that, quite frankly, made her terribly sad.
“No, don’t apologize,” Ignis continued. “That’s not why I told you. While I knew Noct’s fate, I didn’t know the fate of myself or anyone else.” His voice faltered slightly. Aranea refrained from reaching out to touch him. He was no longer her pupil, after all. Besides, when had she ever allowed herself to be soft on him? “I already had to live with the knowledge that I’d end up losing someone I deeply cared for. I couldn’t risk losing you, too.”
“Oh,” Aranea said. Because, really, what else was there to say? Ignis was always one to keep his emotions closely guarded. Still . . . “Why didn’t you just tell me all this that night?”
“Because you would have fought back, and in the end I would have relented because I had no real right to tell you what you could or could not do. It wasn’t exactly an easy choice for me to make, however. But it was something I had to do. I’m sorry.”
Aranea was still slightly flabbergasted. His hand was right there, just in her reach.
He wouldn’t feel her hand, though. Not with his gloves on.
“I don’t want to be your next pet project,” she said.
“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort,” Ignis insisted. “I only wished to explain why I left you behind. It was one of the reasons why I insisted on joining you.”
“Was the other reason loneliness?”
“Not exactly.”
“What was it, then?”
Ignis suddenly had a strange expression on his face that unnerved Aranea slightly. “Did you hear that?” he asked after a moment.
“Uh, hear what exactly?” She felt a surge of adrenaline in her arms. Her lance was in the second bedroom. Would there be time to grab it if there was a fight?
“The line,” Ignis said and rushed back towards the fishing poles they’d left behind. Still bewildered from, frankly, everything, Aranea chased after him.
As she approached, she could hear what had alerted Ignis: her fishing line was rapidly unspooling.
“Holy crap, we actually caught something?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Ignis replied as he grabbed her fishing rod, “we still have to get it aboard.”
He started reeling the fish in, but she could tell he was struggling a bit. He hadn’t been lying when he said he never bothered to learn. She immediately moved over to help him, placing her hands over his. She could feel how tightly he was holding onto the rod. The bastard fish was strong; the line was pulled so taught she feared it would snap.
“What are you doing?” Ignis asked.
“Helping. I think,” Aranea said, her heart beating fast from adrenaline and something else.
“Turn the rod toward the fish.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“It was something I used to tell Noct.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not him, remember?”
“Just hold steady.”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Aranea asked through her teeth as she braced herself. Her back was pressed against him. She could feel his heartbeat, and she tried not to think about it, but it was right there being all insistent. Making her lose focus.
“Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell you,” Ignis replied. “I think we’ve got him, just hold on.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
They struggled reeling for what felt like an eternity. Inch by maddening inch they pulled that bastard fish in. Strangely enough, it reminded Aranea of when they would fight side by side during the years in darkness. Both of them working in sync like they could read each other’s mind. Both of them knowing how to complement each other without saying a word. They were certainly deadly when they were on their own. Together? They were pretty much unstoppable.
Eventually, Aranea saw a frantic splashing on the surface, drawing closer to the boat. Her heartbeat sped up, and she thought she could feel his doing the same. She knew they were going to succeed. They always did. Together.
Aranea had a flash to that moment where they’d fought against a Red Giant. Ignis had launched her into the air, and when she spiraled down, she pierced its heart. It was a thing of beauty. She felt that same sense of awe when the fish was finally pulled out of the water. It thrashed wildly, scales glinting in the sunlight. She didn’t know what kind of fish it was. It didn’t much matter, though.
They’d done it.
Wordlessly, she helped Ignis free the fish from the hook and placed it in a bucket of water. The fish swam in endless circles.
Aranea burst out laughing. She didn’t know why. She couldn’t stop it.
“What’s so funny?” Ignis asked.
She was laughing so hard she couldn’t speak. Suddenly, Ignis was joining her. She wished it would never end.
There were tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. The laughter faded and soon there was only silence.
Aranea started to say something. “I –”
Ignis pulled her in and kissed her.
It was a little clumsy. Awkward, even. His lips were soft. And despite the fact that he had pulled her in, his arm around her was gentle. It told her she could pull away if she wanted to. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in even closer to her. She wanted to feel everything.
She could feel all the tension and heartache and sorrow between them. But beneath that, slowly rising to the surface, she could feel a warm happiness.
She didn’t think she’d ever feel such a thing again. Yet here it was, dipping in her stomach and spreading out everywhere.
And then she felt his tongue.
Great Astrals above.
He may not want her to die, but she was pretty sure he was going to kill her before the day was done.
They both pulled back slowly, allowing the kiss to linger. There was just enough space for them to do it again without much effort.
“What was that for?” Aranea asked in a whisper, worried that any noise above that level would surely ruin everything.
“The other reason why I wanted to come with you,” Ignis replied, his voice just as soft. “You deserve to know everything. So here I am telling you that I’ve missed you. And I love you. And even though most things in this world are only temporary, I want us to try to be the exception to that rule.”
The sigh Aranea released felt like she was letting go of all the burdens she’d been carrying. At least for now. “So you decided to tell me now?”
“I couldn’t think of a better time.”
She shook her head. “Anyone ever tell you that you think too much?”
“It used to be all the time. Until recently.”
“Well, I’m telling you again.”
“I’d rather you tell me if you want the same thing I do.”
Aranea pretended to think. “Hm. I don’t know. It’s hard to answer on an empty stomach. What are you planning on making with our singular fish? I hope it’s sushi. I’ve been craving it for the past ten years.”
Ignis chuckled. “Actually, about that . . .” He stepped towards the bucket and picked it up. Aranea was about to ask him what he planned on doing with that when he stepped towards the edge of the boat –
--and threw the fish overboard.
Aranea gaped. That was all she could do for a few seconds. “What?” was the only question she could coherently ask.
“Before you get angry –”
“What?”
“Before you get angry,” Ignis said slowly, “let me explain.”
“This better be good.”
“I let it go because in spite of everything that has happened to this place for the past decade, in spite of all the daemons and all the hopelessness that covered this world . . . it’s still alive. And so are we. You said so yourself.”
Damn. He got to her again. He was good at that. She would have told him if she didn’t think he’d end up using it against her one day. “You know,” she said, moving closer to him, “you could have made your point without throwing our lunch overboard.”
“And miss your priceless reaction?” he scoffed.
“Not like you could have seen it.”
He chuckled. “I remember what you look like.”
“If you say ‘beautiful’ or something stupid like that, I’m going to push you into the water.”
“I’d never tell such a lie.”
She lightly punched his arm and he laughed again. She started thinking that maybe they would be OK. Maybe this could work. He was right: in spite of everything, they were standing here. Joking and laughing and kissing. They were planning an unsteady future. Scary, but they had been through worse.
Aranea leaned against him and he supported her. “Hey, Four-Eyes?”
“Yes?”
“I love you, too. As much as I can. You deserve to know that.”
“I already did.”
Aranea rolled her eyes. “Because you’re just that smart?”
“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
She sighed in exasperation. “Gods, you talk too much. Shut up and kiss me again.”
He did and it was just as good as the first time.
She had been wrong again.
This summer was going to be as good as it could be. Maybe it would even merge into fall and then winter. Maybe it would go on and on for as long as they were alive.
She certainly hoped so.