Ignis Scientia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chef_chocobro) wrote2025-06-04 04:39 am
chef_chocobro) wrote2025-06-04 04:39 am
A Villa in Argentina; Wednesday [06/04].
After a weekend like the last, Ignis and Liliana had whisked themselves south, shirking their oh-so-pressing duties on the island to cloister for a few days in the sunny countryside villa that had entered their ever-growing roster of hideaways, habitations, and households, and weren't they both better off because of it. Of course, for Ignis, it wasn't just about some well-earned relaxation to ease the physical and mental strain and drain that went with several days hunched over in a workroom or traipsing around Innistrad.
For Ignis, things were rarely so singularly intentioned as that, although yesterday....that had been intentionally simple, a day of basking in each other's company, feasting on local foods, making idle plans that may or may not be followed through on, distractions pending, and just reveling in the intricate steps of their surprisingly easy and endless waltz. And today had been much of the same, with just a bit more laziness involved. Lounging in bed a little later, less complicated recipehs that lent themselves well to distracted cooking, skipping his training forms out on the deck in favor of appreciating the fine work of Liliana's fingers as they plucked at her lyre or brushed through his hair and behind his ears, his head in her laps, as they discussed the artistic merits of more of that Kamigawan poetry she'd recently unearthed.
And now, as evening fell, the next second. The underlying purpose. And also the edge of a potential point of no return. And one might argue that he could still step back from that precipice, but he would find that arguement faulty and flawed. The last few days had only bolstered his convictions.
He might not be able to see the slowly emerging stars in the stretch of sky darkening above them, but he could feel the coolness creeping into the air, he could hear the sounds of the day shifting into the music of the evening, and feel the oh-so-subtle weight of the shadows shifting and lengthening to let him know that the twilight hour was upon them.
"Darling?" He found Liliana, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of one of the wines they had cultivated together on one of their first ventures out here in the other. "I think tonight is an excellent one to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Don't you agree?"
[[ for the paramour, por favor, and NFB for distance~ ]]
For Ignis, things were rarely so singularly intentioned as that, although yesterday....that had been intentionally simple, a day of basking in each other's company, feasting on local foods, making idle plans that may or may not be followed through on, distractions pending, and just reveling in the intricate steps of their surprisingly easy and endless waltz. And today had been much of the same, with just a bit more laziness involved. Lounging in bed a little later, less complicated recipehs that lent themselves well to distracted cooking, skipping his training forms out on the deck in favor of appreciating the fine work of Liliana's fingers as they plucked at her lyre or brushed through his hair and behind his ears, his head in her laps, as they discussed the artistic merits of more of that Kamigawan poetry she'd recently unearthed.
And now, as evening fell, the next second. The underlying purpose. And also the edge of a potential point of no return. And one might argue that he could still step back from that precipice, but he would find that arguement faulty and flawed. The last few days had only bolstered his convictions.
He might not be able to see the slowly emerging stars in the stretch of sky darkening above them, but he could feel the coolness creeping into the air, he could hear the sounds of the day shifting into the music of the evening, and feel the oh-so-subtle weight of the shadows shifting and lengthening to let him know that the twilight hour was upon them.
"Darling?" He found Liliana, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of one of the wines they had cultivated together on one of their first ventures out here in the other. "I think tonight is an excellent one to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Don't you agree?"
[[ for the paramour, por favor, and NFB for distance~ ]]
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"Yes," she said, voice clear and ringing and certain. "Yes, Ignis - my 'Nys - I do believe I will."
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But he didn't wake up, tangled in the cool sheets of the mansion back on the island, or worse, the spartan bed in his apartment, by himself with Gladio's snores through the walls to suggest that it all had been just some extended dream. She was firm and warm in his arms, a contrast to the quickly cooling night, as the nighttime settled around them, as real and palpable as the feeling of love and devotion pouring out of them both.
"Ah," he said, realizing something once he finally had to pull back for air, and there was a rare lightness, an almost giddiness to his laugh, though perhaps not quite so abnormal to the ears that heard it now. "Wait a minute, 'Iana. I seem to have forgotten something crucial. Forgive me." The grin he gave her was almost boyish, in its elation. "Just one more time. Liliana?"
And as terrible as it was to have to draw away from her, he did so now, though his hand never left her, traveling down her arm to her hand as he pulled back enough so that he could lower himself down to one knee. The grin remained as a sort of wry acknowledgement to the quaintness of the gesture, but it did seem fitting, and incredibly natural. After all, dedication and loyalty and service had been a part of his inherent self ever since he was very young (too young); he clearly didn't need to kneel to pledge himself entirely to Liliana, but, then again, why shouldn't he, either? And besides, it made it all the easier to slip the small box from his pocket, of a soft white velvet, and, inside, a bright green satin. Idiosyncratic and confusing to the unkeen eye and perhaps even just a touch gaudy, but surely not to anyone who could understand the meaning of the insignificant piece of metal nestled inside.
"Once again, will you marry me?"
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'Cause you're lucky if you mess with me
A song from that day they'd ended up singing, leaving him to croon his full agreement of just how lucky he was...
And here he was again. Kneeling. Lucky? He seemed to think so, for all that she - and most other people - tried to tell him that loving her was a fool's errand at best.
"Third time's the charm?" she suggested, spreading her fingers so he could slip the ring onto her hand. Her other hand came up to cradle his face, tilting it up to her, thumb stroking over his skin. "Either way, yes. Yes, I'll marry you, you ridiculous man." She tugged him lightly, urging him to his feet. "Though now that you've asked three times, you know you can't change your mind, right?"
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But he rose easily at her urging, after slipping that ring into place and just taking...a moment, to note how perfect the fit was and this new subtle different in the familiar feeling of her hands, and when he did, his arm slipped back around her, pulled her back in, a position even he would agree was a much better one for him to be in.
"Perish the thought," he stated as he settled back into her. "You know I am nothing if not a man of my word, Liliana, whether I say it once, thrice, or sometimes not even outloud at all."
Such as all the unspoken promises now laced within every kiss, more so now than ever before.
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His own hand felt naked, however. They were going to have to fix that. She was not the only one so promised, and therefore, was not the only one who needed a ring, no? She didn't think that Ignis would mind a tangible cue of his own for this, either. Something to think about.
"I do have one question for you though, my darling," she said, after kissing him again for the sheer pleasure of it. Her voice was gentle. Understanding. "What about Noct?"
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But that was something he didn't think he could possibly expect, and the confusion on his face was evident, brow furrowing as he tried to work out what she could possibly have meant by that. Had he simply misheard?
"What..." The confusion seemed to deepen. "What about him?"
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Had she misunderstood? Should she, perhaps have asked him about what that baggage had meant, rather than assuming it was related to her insecu--err, that was, nothing, never mind.
"That is..." she tried again, "I saw the bag. From Thursday." She'd seen multiple, even though she'd pretended not to. A courtesy to one another. Even if it had taken up far too much space in her brain afterwards. "If it weren't from him..."
Why else would he have had marriage baggage if it hadn't been from losing Noctis, first to an arranged marriage and then to death itself?
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"If it weren't for..." Ignis repeated, slowly trying to follow the line of Liliana's logic, and slowly, he felt as though it was revealing itself.
"...ah. No. Noct and I were never..."
A part of him wondered how she could have ever found her way to such a conclusion. Another part of him knew exactly how she had. And a third part still would like for Gladiolus Amicitia to kindly exit his brain with that snorting smirk, thank you.
And then he breathed out, taking her hand again to give it a soft squeeze that went with the soft, almost sheepish smile. "No, my darling, that bag was one entirely of my own making and design, no doubt for how absurdly long I have been sitting on this ring, and, well, needing to...recontextualize the notion as a whole. After all, here I've been so brash and bold about you not being beholden to anyone, it seemed quite a bit...hypocritical of me to ask this of you. Not to mention just the potent uncertainty that you would even want it for yourself, especially when....well, with tales of your track record with such things..."
But then he actually met Jace.
"I suppose all that can accumulate over time, and, face with the realization that it had become enough of an emotional burden to manifest itself, then it became clear that I should...well..."
And it was difficult, even after all that, not to smile.
"Finally follow through."
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"I know you never were," she said softly. "But that didn't..." She trailed off as he continued, eyes almost as wide now as they'd been for the original question. "I am no expert," she said tartly, "but being married and being beholden do not seem synonymous to me. At least, not any kind of marriage I intend to participate in." The nervousness she'd felt earlier rose up and she fought it back down. Not now, nerves, she was making important points. "I think if you're on your knees asking me for something, the term 'beholden' flies out the window." And as for my track record..."
Well, she was not currently manipulating Ignis on behalf of an ancient dragon, nor was he convinced he was actually his dead best friend, so...those seemed to be outliers and probably should not be counted.
"...it's true that I have not given it much thought in the past, nor felt it particularly important, but...you actually have that baggage to thank. Because I saw it, and concluded that you would never wish to marry because of it and then had to think about what I thought of that..." She hadn't gotten particularly far, because that involved thinking of Noctis and how his loss was affecting Ignis and she hadn't particularly enjoyed doing that. "But, if that is the case, my darling...how long have you had that ring for?"
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She held up her hand, once more admiring the band around her finger. "Nearly a year," she murmured. "I do see why it might have turned to baggage in that time." He could have just asked her opinions on the matter, honestly now.
Like you asked about Noctis? She was just going to ignore her own internal monologue right now. It was clearly discombobulated from the day.
"Did you mention this to them, too?" she asked, wrapping herself around him, her head resting on his shoulder. "When you told them about becoming a vampire?"