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The sun was just beginning to set on the thirteenth day after their departure from Insomnia, and Ignis could not help but reflect that it had been an unlucky day indeed.
They were lost. Hopelessly so. He and Gladio had spent the better part of the afternoon poring over the map, but had been quite unable to pinpoint where, exactly, Noctis’ reckless guidance had led them as he and Prompto raced their chocobos through the wilderness. Ignis hadn’t found the heart to stop them; Noct had seemed as though he was truly enjoying himself, the shadow cast over him by the invasion of his kingdom lifted, however briefly, by Prompto’s infectious enthusiasm over riding chocobos for the first time.
So here they were, having set up camp at a Haven that was, at Ignis’ best guess, somewhere in northeast Duscae. Gladio had started the fire and left with Noctis to find a vantage from which to ascertain their position before it got dark, which left Ignis and Prompto at camp to cook and tend to the chocobos, respectively.
What should he make? It had to be something hearty, since they had spent all day on the move, and likely would tomorrow, too. Not something with too many vegetables, because Noctis wouldn’t finish it, but it couldn’t just be empty calories. Perhaps a stew?
His musings were interrupted by a voice.
“Hey, um...can I help?”
Ignis looked up from his notebook. Prompto was sitting in his chair by the campfire, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, camera in hand. Looking through his photos for the day, Ignis assumed.
“You’re finished with the chocobos?” said Ignis.
“Y-yeah. Gave ‘em some of the good greens we got from Wiz. They seem pretty happy.” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the chocobos, standing and lying down at the edge of the campfire’s light, each with feedbags fastened over their beaks.
Prompto seemed nervous. It was not difficult to pinpoint the source of his nervousness as Ignis himself; he tended to have that effect on people, and he and Prompto hadn’t yet built much of a rapport outside of the presence of Noct. Ignis sometimes wished he possessed Gladio’s easy grace when it came to interactions, but he had to concede that this particular skill would probably never be in his repertoire.
“Good. As for the help...I haven’t yet decided what we’re to have,” Ignis said.
“What are our options?” said Prompto.
“I was thinking of a stew, perhaps. We still have quite a few vegetables in reserve...we don’t have any fresh fish or garula steaks, so—“
Prompto’s face lit up suddenly. “Oh! Oh! How about the big frog we killed earlier? The gigantoad? Didn’t you say you had something for that?”
Ignis blinked. “Yes, I...a recipe did occur to me to try, but I haven’t tested it.” He flipped back to the page in his notebook he’d scribbled it on. Toadsteak drumsticks, it read. Ingr: rack of gigantoad, leiden peppers, spices—chili powder? Cumin? Rub meat with spices, sear, apply glaze & bake, peppers garnish.
It hardly constituted a recipe. He had intended to research existing ones later, but he hadn’t had the time yet.
But Prompto’s eyes sparkled. “Come on, everything you make is amazing. It’ll be fine. And I can help! If, uh, you want me to.”
Ignis considered. The dish wasn’t terribly complicated...he just didn’t like it to be untested. But it would be a substantial meal, and a meat dish would be sure to please Noctis. Gladio as well. It might be just the thing to boost their morale at the end of this long day. “All right then,” he said. “Let’s begin.”
Prompto grinned, starting over towards him. “Yessss. Okay, what do you want me to do?”
“You can start by chopping these peppers,” Ignis said, placing four of them atop a cutting board.
“Sliced or cubed?” asked Prompto, selecting a knife—and Ignis was surprised to see that he’d chosen the correct one for the job. If it had been Noct or Gladio, well.... Prompto was full of surprises, it seemed.
He smiled. “Sliced, if you would,” he said, then turned to fetch the meat.
Prompto, as it turned out, was quite an able hand in the kitchen, but Ignis had to admit that he had been setting the bar rather low. Prompto chopped the peppers quickly and with a sure hand, not perfectly, but the slices were even enough. “You’re doing well,” Ignis said, as he searched through his stock of spices, picking out the ones he needed.
“Huh?” Prompto looked up, pausing in his work. “This is pretty basic stuff, isn’t it?”
“You may be surprised at some people’s lack of knowledge in culinary matters,” Ignis said dryly.
Prompto laughed a little. “Nah...I’ve seen Noct trying to cook. Not pretty.”
“That’s one way to put it,” said Ignis. “It comes to me as somewhat of a relief that there is another among us capable of doing more than boiling a pot of water.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said Prompto, resuming his work. “My parents weren’t home a lot, so I just kinda...picked some stuff up? I guess.”
“Ah, yes,” said Ignis. He’d known that, of course, that Prompto’s parents had often been absent, but it occurred to him now how much it meant Prompto would have had to fend for himself. How different he was from Noct, and yet they were the most steadfast of friends. “You’ve had a lot of practice then?” he said.
Prompto laughed again, but more in a self-deprecating way. “Not really...when I was a kid, I ate the same crappy takeout, like, every day. It took me a while to actually start eating real food. The first time I made a salad, I put a whole freaking tomato in it—I mean, not even chopped, just plopped right in the middle of it.”
“How old were you then?”
“Oh, uh. This was in elementary school, I guess...probably ten or eleven?”
“Even that much is impressive, for a child.”
Prompto shook his head. “Come on, you act like you weren’t born with a spatula in your hand. I bet you’ve been whipping up five star meals since you were three.”
Now it was Ignis’ turn to laugh. “I assure you, that isn’t the case,” he said, fetching a bowl to mix the spices in. “...Do you truly think my cooking is that good?”
“Are you kidding?” said Prompto. “Uh, yeah? Your food is ten times better than anything else I’ve eaten my entire life.”
“Come now, you’re exaggerating,” said Ignis, although he was inwardly pleased.
“No, dude. The fact that you think that is crazy.” He sighed. “Noct doesn’t know how lucky he is.”
There was a silence, as Prompto finished chopping the peppers, and Ignis began rubbing the spices into the meat. “You can put those in a bowl for now ,” he said to Prompto, indicating the peppers, then, “I suppose you’re right about Noct. But about more things than just my cooking.”
He’s lucky to have you, he meant by it, but Prompto gave a strange little smile, partly amused and partly bitter, one that Ignis had never seen on him before. Full of surprises, indeed. “Yeah. It’s like, he really just doesn’t have a clue, right? Even just stuff like ‘hey we gotta earn some money now’, or ‘no, no, the hotel isn’t gonna kick som e body out so you can have a room’, you know? I mean, I get it, but...yeah.”
“Hmm...yes. I’m afraid I may have been too soft on him, sometimes,” said Ignis. “Gladio likes to tell me so, at least.”
“Whoa whoa, not what I meant,” said Prompto. “Damn, Ignis, it’s not like you’re his mom.”
Ignis weighed his next response carefully. “I’m the closest thing he has,” he said, eventually.
“...So like, does that make Gladio his dad?” Prompto said and paused, realizing what he just said, then turned and waved his hands apologetically. “Oh man, sorry...was that too soon?”
It was easy to forget that King Regis was dead. Far too easy, when he hadn’t seen the evidence with his own eyes. Ignis shook his head, smiling sadly as he set a pan over the fire. “It would seem he’s inherited that role, hasn’t it?” He splashed the bottom of the pan with oil. “ Could you prepare the glaze? I’ve written the directions in the notebook.”
“Sure,” said Prompto, examining the page before turning to look for the ingredients. “So hey, how long have you guys known Noct for, anyways?”
“I entered into Noctis’ service at the age of six,” said Ignis, remembering now the small boy hiding behind his father, the king’s solemn words, and his pledge. “Noct was three.”
“You were six?” Prompto said incredulously, turning towards him with a bottle of sauce in hand. “Isn’t that—doesn’t that like...isn’t that against...child labour laws, or something?”
“I’m not quite sure those apply to nobility,” said Ignis.
Prompto shook his head. “That’s nuts,” he said. “So, you guys have known him pretty much his whole life, huh...” he trailed off, sounding troubled.
Ignis looked at him. It was something he hadn’t noticed much until they’d began travelling together, but sometimes behind Prompto’s bright and exuberant demeanour, there was a flash of something...vulnerable. It wasn’t something Noct would have been likely to pick up on, dense as he was, but Ignis had the feeling Prompto was not as comfortable as he seemed to keep the company of royalty. “ Yes,” he said, “But I fear our constant presence interfered with Noct’s ability to form meaningful relationships of his own. To make his own choices.”
Prompto straightened up, shrugging his shoulders slightly as if to throw off the weight of the conversation before turning back to the mixing bowl . “I dunno. He seems fine to me .” He looked around. “Even if his ‘choices’ end with us stuck in the middle of Ramuh knows where.”
Ah. He’d changed the subject again. Ignis filed this bit of knowledge away, that Prompto did not seem to like talking about himself. Then again, it might just have been Ignis himself that he was unwilling to speak freely to . Ignis sighed. “Indeed,” he said, and judging that the pan was hot enough, dropped each of the pieces of spiced meat in, quickly removing them after searing both sides. Prompto applied the glaze as Ignis dropped the peppers into the still-hot pan along with some sauce, and then both were transferred to a baking sheet. “Excellent,” said Ignis, looking over their handiwork before placing it in the portable oven. “Now all we need to do is wait. You were a great help, Prompto.”
Prompto grinned. “ Prompto Argentum, Lucis’ next top chef,” he said, then laughed, shaking his head. “Nah though...you pretty much just told me what to do, and I did it. It’s your show.”
“Even so,” said Ignis.
“Hey, where the heck are Noct and Gladio, anyway? They better not be late for dinner, after all that work.”
Ignis glanced up. The sun had gone down by now, stars coming into view as the last vestiges of light bled slowly from the sky. He checked his phone. The signal wasn’t exceptionally strong all the way out here, but surely, if Noct or Gladio had sent a message, he would have received it. “Could they be lost?” he muttered.
“You mean, even more lost?” said Prompto, sitting down by the fire. He poked the logs with a stick. “Wouldn’t they be able to see the smoke from the fire?”
“Maybe they were attacked,” said Ignis, worried now, thumb hovering over the call button on Gladio’s contact in his phone. “If the Imperials showed up...”
“I dunno, I’d be pretty impressed if they managed to find us when even we don’t know where we are,” said Prompto, throwing another log on the fire. Then he looked at Ignis. “You’re really that worried about them?”
“I don’t think it’s unreasonable to be worried, given that daemons could start appearing out there any minute,” Ignis said.
Prompto looked amused. “...You really are a mom,” he said.
Ignis would have answered him, perhaps with something snappish, but just then one of the chocobos lifted its head with a curious, ‘kweh?’ and looked off into the darkness.
“What’s that, girl, you hear something? Noct fell down a well?” said Prompto, going over to look in the same direction as the chocobo.
Ignis stood where he was, listening, thumb still poised over his phone. The sound of something crashing through the brush soon reached his ears, and then Prompto was waving into the darkness.
“Hey guys! Noct! Gladio! Over heeeeere!”
“Shiva’s tits,” growled a voice, unmistakably Gladio’s. “Shut the fuck up, Prompto, we can see the damn fire. Oh no you don’t, Noct, you are not warping anywhere else tonight.”
“It’s just right there,” came Noctis’ voice. There was a particular whine to it that Ignis knew from experience meant he was very tired. “Ugh, my legs are killing me.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t carrying you, princess,” said Gladio, as the sound of their voices came closer, and then finally, they tromped into view. Noct looked sour, slumped over and with twigs sticking out of his hair. Gladio looked no more happy, but his expression lightened as he sniffed the air.
“Hey, tell me that whatever that is, it’s coming soon,” he said. “I’m starved.”
Ignis put his phone away, sighing. “It’s almost finished cooking. Thank Prompto for that; he helped.”
Noctis staggered over to a chair and flopped down into it. “Cool. I’m not gettin’ up from here for the rest of the night.”
“What happened to you?” said Prompto.
Gladio made a face. “This idiot,” he said, hooking a thumb at Noct, “warped himself into a tree and couldn’t figure out how to get down.”
Noct groaned loudly, sinking down further into the chair. “Shut uuuup. The branches didn’t look that breakable til I got up there, okay?”
“Wow,” said Prompto. “Guess that explains the birdnest you got going on up there.”
Ignis made his way over to Noct’s chair, shaking his head in exasperation as he began picking the twigs out of Noct’s hair. “Did you at least find out where we are?” he asked Gladio.
“Yeah, pretty sure this is Digythe Haven,” said Gladio, pulling their map out of his pocket. Think we saw Alstor Slough west of here, so it makes the most sense. There’s a road not too far east, we can follow it back to somewhere half civilized in the morning.”
“Good,” said Ignis, feeling himself relax. Gladio and Noctis were back, uninjured, and they had a plan for the morning. All was well.
“Hey, you should’ve seen the chocobos when I was feeding them,” said Prompto, having resumed his seat near Noctis. He gestured excitedly with his hands, and Noctis’ dour expression softened as he watched his friend talk.
Gladio clapped a hand on Ignis’ shoulder on his way to his own seat, meeting his eyes briefly with a look of apology. For making him worry.
Ignis nodded back, with a slight smile. Behind him, the oven timer sounded.
“Soup’s on!” crowed Prompto, beaming. “Wait til you get a load of this! You’re gonna love it.”
“Can’t wait,” said Gladio.
“Somebody better bring me a plate,” said Noct.
Ignis smiled to himself as he slipped on his oven mitts. All was well, indeed.