middaeg | [closed]

[ Gladio had collected the exhausted chamberlain from where he'd fallen asleep and it's a miracle he doesn't seem to rouse much even when he gripped his shoulder, or when he knelt down to pull his arm over his shoulder, then hooked an arm under his knees to lift him up. The man was slender, but he was compact -- he wasn't light, but this was a hell of a lot easier when he's not bearing his weight on one arm doing push-ups.

It's been a while since he's seen Iggy like this. Not necessarily asleep, but sans the mutilation from using the ring in an act of sacrifice and desperation. At first it had been too difficult to so much as look at him, a constant reminder of his own failure to protect those in Noctis' orbit. The burden of carrying him at his best (perhaps not immediately) was anything but. It was a convenient excuse to marvel at the difference.

But it's weird to stare at the sleeping face of Ignis, so he tightens his mouth into a quiet grimace and trudges toward what he's told by Prompto is Ignis' room. ]

Alright, let's get you to bed.

[ He's just going to have to kick the door closed with his boot, because it was already a challenge to get both of them through the door, angling in such a way so he doesn't bark Ignis' legs or his head against the door frame going in. Then, he lays him out on the bed.

The act is eerily familiar, but another glance in the dim light is all the reminder he needs that he's not scorched by fire. Gladio reaches over to untie his shoes, knowing Ignis would disapprove of anyone wearing their shoes to bed. ]

Edited 2019-09-07 00:21 (UTC)

[Ignis doesn't think he's ever been this tired in his life. Usually overly cautious and extraordinarily good at planning, he never expected to deplete his reserves of magic or anything else to the point of complete exhaustion. And while the others may think it's a result of the Bonds, the honest truth is that it's more a result of his own stubborn will to perfect everything he does. He's been practicing spells, researching the history of this place, and surviving on sub-par coffee after long nights of study.

He dreams, rather vividly, of home. Well, what used to be home. Insomnia. Tall buildings and bustling streets, celebrations and somber tasks. At one point he almost wakes up in Gladio's arms, but his magic reserves are so tapped that he merely murmurs for Noctis to do his homework, and drifts back off.

Then he dreams of fire, the smell of burning flesh and the sensation against his skin, and with as much fire magic as he's been practicing, Gladio (if he's nearby enough) might note that Ignis is physically warm to the touch, almost radiating heat. It unsettles him in his sleep, and with a sharp inhale, he awakens.

Last he could recall, he was at a desk studying. Now he's... definitely prone, shoeless, and not alone.

His eyes cast around the room, which he can of course see clearly enough without his glasses. And they land on a mountain of a man who certainly wasn't there before he fell asleep.]

...It's bloody well about time you got here.

[Please note: if he didn't think he was still asleep and dreaming about Gladio, he probably wouldn't have said something so rude. But he's pretty sure this is some delirium or something, so he might as well speak his mind.]

[ Gladio's already out of his set by the bed when Ignis jolts up in a cold sweat that stinks of ash when it shouldn't, oddly. He searches his face for signs of lucidity and finds it, but the heat off his skin is troubling. ]

It's nice to see you too.

[ Sort of. Except he really is, a thousand times more than he can say, because this feels like a second chance, like he can change history... he can protect Ignis... ]

Easy. [ Mistaking his magical aptitude for fire taking its toll on his body for a fever, he pushes him back down with a gentle, but insistent hand against the center of his chest. ] You're still burning up.

[Ignis isn't convinced this is real until he feels that solid, broad hand on his chest. He brings one of his own hands up, not to push it away, but to cover Gladio's, to make sure he's actually here.

He's real. Holy--]

It's always--I'm always like that these days. When did you get here? How long was I asleep?

[ Gladio feels the heat of his body -- unnaturally warm, feverishly hot -- but his heart rate is normal. At this temperature, he would expect his body to work harder to cool his blood, or to feel some interruption that hinted at infection. He feels nothing but a strong, steady heartbeat of a healthy, if momentarily exhausted, person.

The crease in his brow deepens as he watches Ignis cover his hand with his own. He's healthy... so why...? ]

Always like this...?

[ His mind races through the droning, endless hours of the primer. He recalls, dimly, the parts that resonated with him the most (had it not been for a particularly dull presentation of the topic) related to elemental magic. It's what they used, arguably, the most... but here it's only one facet of what they knew of magic in their own world.

Amber eyes flick back and forth as he reconciles this fact with what he's learned and comes to his own conclusion, and they focus back on Ignis. ]

...You're specializing in fire? Evocation?

[He opens his mouth to speak again, but the warmth and shock of Gladio being here so suddenly leaves him speechless for a moment. He wants to throw his arms around the guy and berate him for being here at all, for coming so late, for probably carrying him to his room in a very undignified manner... but it's Ignis and despite everything he still usually has impeccable restraint.

Pulling his hand away and moving to shift into a more comfortably seated position, Ignis notes that, yes, he does feel rather warm. Oh, Gladio was asking.]

Fire in general. Evocation, yes, but I started with enchantment. I was working on a healing spell and trying to sort through some information on palliative herbs. I must've fallen asleep.

[Ah. Shit. Hold on.]

Prompto didn't see me like this, did he? I'm going to take a guess and say you're a witch, too. You've seen the others...?

[Too many questions. He pauses quite deliberately, though his mind is still trying to catch up. When did he get this tired?]

[ There are too many questions Gladio has himself to ask in a single night, but he knows they’re all here. It makes him feel more at ease, that he can account for every one of them and now he can rest easy knowing he needs to keep his skills sharp and his newfound magical acuity up to snuff. That primer showed him he was woefully short of what counted for a beginner, so he’s similarly throwing himself into the practice of witchcraft. ]

Uh, yeah... [ About that. Gladio huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he settles into a chair he moves by the bed. He could throw the excitable and well-intentioned one of their entourage under the bus, but somehow he thinks it’s best not to give Ignis any reason to worry. ]

Cut him some slack — He’s how I found out you were here. [ He’s going to leave it at that, smoothly switching gears to smile approvingly at Ignis with a compliment to follow. ]

So. Really giving it your all, huh? As if I could expect anything less coming from you.

[ He’d like nothing more than to push the man right back into bed and sleep the entire night, but he knows better than to try to force someone like Ignis. He’s got his dignity, after all. Others he has no problem draping over, but Ignis? No, that’s just not done. So he must work with what ground he’s given. ]

I need you in top form to bring me up to speed. Magically and physically speaking, so you need to rest.

[ So yes, he’s a witch. ]

[Ignis might be about to give Gladio some answers, based on all of that. He takes a slow, calm breath and lets it out slowly, clearly trying to wake himself up a bit more. If only he had Ebony... Damn this place's inferior coffee! His attention turns back to Gladio.

Scooting over in the bed slightly, he gestures for Gladio to take a seat. He's big, but they've shared space many times. He doesn't mind his friend and companion being close.

Still, there's a frown that threatens, and he looks around for his glasses before proceeding.]

Not to launch into things too quickly, but the situation is this: They--the Coven, and those who assist us and them--don't recommend a Witch having more than three Bonds. I presently have three, one of which is an incredible draw on my magical energy.

[Here goes the part that's going to make Ignis look like an asshole. He's prepared.]

Unbeknownst to me, Prompto was having difficulty. One of his acquaintances here informed me, and I threw myself into trying to find a way to make up for what I saw as neglect and error in observing and understanding his condition. If Prompto was struggling, Noct likely was as well; my third Bonded helped me test some skills and remedies. As it turns out, there's no one-size-fits-all spell or set of spells for pain relief. There was an incident recently that's disturbed my sleep as well, and I fear I overworked myself trying to compensate for my lack of foresight.

[He folds his hands on his lap and stares down at them, quite serious.]

If Prompto knows about this, he'll likely worry about me, and he'll tell me even less about his condition for fear of this happening again. Noct may well join him in that. What does that make me, in the end? "Inadequate" is a kind way to put it.

[ Ignis questioning himself so openly like this? Yeah, he's exhausted. Gladio gets up and moves to where he left Ignis' glasses -- a drawer deep and empty enough to keep his glasses safe in the nightstand -- and hands it to him, settling down on the empty space quietly offered by the chamberlain. ]

Being a little hard on yourself. [ Especially since he's seen him without his sight, so if he thinks this is bad... ] And I don't need to tell you you're taking on too much.

[ See, it's things like what Ignis is telling him that makes him second-guess the whole bonding thing. Specifically with Noctis or Prompto... they're all worried about hurting each other that they've become weaker for it. To Gladio, that's unacceptable. He won't be the cause of that, not when Ignis discloses how the whole thing seems to have backfired him into such a state. ]

You're not really making a good case for bonding, Iggy. [ He means with either of the other two. He also reaches out again to feel his forehead for signs of a fever. ] Are you sure you're not coming down with something?

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GOMEN FOR MY SHORT TAG I was extremely tired ;w;

AND NOW I'M ON MY PHONE SO SHORTISH TOO SORRY

No worries!

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