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"Damn it."
It wasn't a very princely thing to say, but of all the things that could have gone wrong today, torrential rain was near the top of the list.
Noctis stepped away from the window and scanned the room, trying to pick out one face in particular among the sea of people surrounding him. The training hall was filled from wall to wall with Kingsglaive and Crownsguard, all dressed smartly in uniform. It was a special occasion, after all, and everyone who could be was here to celebrate the appointment of their newest member.
Every individual that took the royal black had to swear an oath of fealty to the king and, by extension, his family. But those destined for Noctis's inner circle… that required homage. They'd held Gladio's commendation ceremony the year before.
Today, it was Ignis's turn.
If only Noctis could find him…
"Is he here yet?" Noctis asked for what was probably the fifteenth time, sidling up next to Gladio near the head of the room. Soon, he'd have to take his place in the throne-like chair that had been brought out for the occasion, but until then, he was free to move about as he pleased.
"Haven't seen him," Gladio replied, and to his credit, he didn't even sound annoyed. "Sucks about the downpour."
"You said it," Noctis agreed.
It was no secret to either of them that Ignis disliked rain, and while the ceremony itself would be held inside the training hall, Noctis knew that Ignis would still have to pass through the mess outside in order to get here. He was to be, by tradition, the last to arrive, having stopped first to claim and don his new uniform.
And here, the weather report this morning had predicted clear skies.
So much for that.
Once Ignis did arrive, he would present himself before the gods, the king, and Noctis himself, and become an official member of Noctis's Crownsguard. It was all a formality, of course; Noctis already considered Ignis to be part of his retinue, and had since before he was even old enough to know what that word meant. But he knew it was important to Ignis to do it by the book, so he tried to keep his complaints to a minimum.
The royal family had all manner of rituals involving various combinations of the Six that Noctis had been struggling his whole life to memorize. Today's ceremony featured Ramuh and Bahamut - respectively, the judge and the executioner of the gods. Noctis figured that was pretty fitting, considering everything to do with his family seemed to be dismal and dour and altogether far too serious for his liking.
All told, it would be a fairly short affair, but the Crownsguard nevertheless took it very seriously. Besides Noctis's fancy chair, there was a large, ornate set of scales, representing Ramuh, and a finely crafted golden sword, fashioned in the image of Bahamut's bladed wings.
The Scales of Ramuh were an important Lucian artifact, brought out and polished to perfection specifically for the commendation ceremony. Everyone intent on joining the Crownsguard was to place a talisman of some kind on the scales. That item could be anything, but the idea was to pick something that represented the individual's heart.
In the Scales' other pan would be the Wing of Bahamut - the aforementioned sword. When the blocks were removed, in theory, if the Crownsguard's "heart" weighed less than the "wing", they were worthy of the royal family's trust. If their "heart" was too heavy, there was an additional purification ritual to be performed.
Noctis had never heard of the latter happening, mostly because the "wing" weighed about a million pounds, and most people put much lighter things in the other pan. Gladio had put in all four volumes of his favorite hardcover when he'd sworn homage, and they'd practically flown to the ceiling, the sword descended so fast.
Still, it was always interesting to see what people chose to represent themselves.
Gladio nudged his shoulder.
"Iggy just got here," he said, motioning toward the far end of the hall. "He beelined straight for the men's room and he did not look happy."
"Got it," Noctis said, already on the move.
He ducked and dodged his way through the crowd, inwardly cursing himself for not having the foresight to wait closer to the entrance. Thankfully, the assembled guardsmen and women were too caught up in their own conversations to pay him any mind, and he made it to the bathroom door without having to stop and exchange pleasantries. He slipped inside the room without issue, and exhaled in relief at the sudden quiet.
There in front of the mirror was Ignis, already wrestling with his drooping hair. His glasses were speckled with rainwater, and he looked even more shaken than Noctis had expected.
Noctis's mouth went dry at the sight of him.
Every Crownsguard got to help design the outfit that was to become their uniform. The color black and the skull insignia were required, but otherwise, each one was entirely unique. Because the Crownsguard was tasked primarily with the defense of the general populace these days, it made sense to have them dress in a more civilian manner. They could be recognized at a glance, but didn't make people nervous in the way seeing the crisp, identical Kingsglaive uniforms did.
Most members of the Crownsguard kept their designs a secret until the day of their official appointment, and Ignis had been no exception. Try though he might, Noctis hadn't been able to get even the smallest of hints out of his tight-lipped advisor.
As it turned out, Ignis's choice of attire was, in a word: stunning.
Noctis knew that purple was Ignis's favorite color, and that he had a fondness for coeurl print, but he'd never imagined a dress shirt combining the two. He'd left the top button undone, displaying his skull pendant - which Noctis had gifted him some time ago - for all to see. The jacket, pants, and shoes were a bit closer to the austerity Noctis was used to, but Ignis had added a pair of silver driving gloves to the ensemble that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else.
Ignis made them work.
The whole thing looked better on him than it had any right to.
Noctis cleared his throat, and Ignis spun to face him, his eyes wide.
"Noct! I didn't hear you come in… When did you get here?"
"I dunno; half a minute ago?" he said, still trying to recover from the initial shock.
"You should be preparing for the ceremony to start," Ignis said tersely. "King Regis will be looking for you."
"All I've gotta do is go sit in the chair," Noctis pointed out, feeling a bit put-out by the dismissal. "I've got time."
"I'll only be a moment," Ignis insisted, turning away to fuss with his hair some more, and Noctis frowned at the urgency in his tone. When Noctis didn't leave, Ignis added, "Honestly, Noct; you shouldn't be seeing me like this."
Noctis laughed, incredulous.
"Oh, come on," he said. "I've seen you with your hair down before. It's not a big deal."
Ignis clicked his tongue in frustration and gave up on said hair, trying to clean his glasses instead. But with only a damp handkerchief handy, all he managed was to smear the water around on the lenses.
He glared at them with unmitigated disgust, and Noctis resisted the urge to take a step back.
"…You alright, Specs?"
But that was a stupid thing to ask, because it was pretty clear that Ignis wasn't. Noctis's question went ignored in favor of Ignis eyeing the paper towel dispenser.
Noctis tried a different tack.
"You don't look that bad. Nobody's gonna notice."
In fact, Ignis looked the polar opposite of bad, but Noctis didn't want to deviate too far from the point right now. He could tell he was getting warmer - Ignis was looking more perturbed by the second, digging through his satchel and coming up with a comb and his favored product, which he proceeded to attack his hair with again.
Noctis crossed his arms.
"Ignis."
Ignis paused mid-stroke with the comb, and his eyes flickered to Noctis in the mirror's reflection.
"It's not like it's bad luck for me to see you before the ceremony, you know."
Ignis made a noncommittal sound and resumed combing his hair back into place, with a modicum of success this time around.
"This whole day feels rather inauspicious," Ignis admitted finally, with a gravity that Noctis found surprising. He'd never really taken Ignis for the superstitious sort.
"Really?" Noctis asked. "You don't think all this rain is just… I don't know… Ramuh giving you his blessing?"
"There's nothing holy about this water," Ignis scoffed, inspecting his glasses again.
Noctis took a breath. Tried to look at the situation from Ignis's point of view.
Ignis liked formalities. He liked routines, and rituals, and accurate weather reporting. The rain hadn't factored into his plan for today, and while Noctis was content to fly by the seat of his pants most of the time, he knew Ignis definitely was not.
He also knew that Ignis was not going to ask him for help.
Today was Ignis's day.
"What do you need?" Noctis asked quietly.
Finally, he got the reaction he was looking for. Ignis deflated with a sigh.
"To be able to see what I'm doing, for starters," he conceded, casting another disparaging look at his glasses.
That, Noctis could definitely help with. He pulled out his own pocket square, handing it over. Ignis hesitated for a second, but relented.
"Thank you," he said, sincere as always.
"Don't mention it."
Once his glasses were cleaned and resettled, Ignis insisted on putting Noctis's handkerchief away himself.
"Can't have us both looking unkempt," he said, and Noctis supposed that was fair, considering he wasn't really sure how to fold it back into his pocket properly anyway.
Noctis caught Ignis's wrist as he started to pull away, meeting his eyes for a beat.
"Good?" he asked.
Ignis managed the barest hint of a smile.
"Never better. Now please go sit down."
"Alright, already…"
---
A few minutes later, Noctis was in his designated spot, waiting for the ceremony to begin. He knew it was almost time when the crowd began to thin, everyone withdrawing from the center to line up in rows along the walls. He felt rather than saw it when his dad entered the room from a more private entrance behind him, his presence steady and grounding. Noctis had been through the motions before, but being watched by all these people still made him nervous, and he was glad his dad was here to see him through.
He caught sight of Gladio out of the corner of his eye, and his Shield gave him a single nod.
Everyone was in position.
Behind Noctis, the king struck the floor with his cane.
Once.
Twice.
The double doors at the far end of the room swung open, and Ignis stepped into the chamber.
'Here we go,' Noctis thought.
It was for the better that he'd gotten to see Ignis's uniform before this; he might not have been able to maintain his composure, otherwise.
The sound of footsteps echoed across the floor as Ignis made his approach, everyone around them silent and still. It seemed to take an eternity, but then in an instant, he'd reached the dais.
Gladio's father, Clarus, stepped forward from among those assembled. As leader of the Crownsguard, he would oversee the proceedings.
With great care, Clarus set the Wing of Bahamut on the Scales and stepped back, allowing Ignis to take his place. Ignis did so, then reached up and unclasped the pendant he'd chosen to display so prominently.
Noctis's own heart stuttered.
Oh.
He'd have been lying if he said he'd been expecting that.
Ignis slowly and deliberately laid the pendant on the remaining pan, and stepped backward.
Clarus reclaimed his position in front of the Scales and with both hands, removed the supports.
It was no contest: the pan containing the Wing clattered to the floor, Ignis's pendant held aloft on the other side. But one might have thought, by the severe expression on Ignis's face, that he'd actually been harboring doubts about it.
Noctis had no time to unpack all that, though. It was nearing his turn.
"The gods' test has been passed," Clarus announced to the room at large. "Kneel, Cadet Scientia, and address your Prince."
Ignis sank onto the unforgiving marble at Noctis's feet and pressed his palms together, bowing his head in supplication.
His voice rang clearly through the hall.
"I, Ignis Stupeo Scientia, dedicate myself to your service, Prince Noctis, before the Hexatheon and the witnesses gathered here. My blade shall strike where you will it; my shield shall be raised always in your defense. I vow to guide and protect you, as best as I am able, until my dying breath."
Noctis swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. He'd done this all before... Why did it feel so different, when it was Ignis?
But there was no time to process that, either. Doing his best to tune out everyone else around them, Noctis stood, placed his hands over Ignis's, and recited:
"I, Noctis Lucis Caelum, accept your oath, sworn before the Hexatheon and the witnesses gathered here. And in return, I vow that I will ask nothing of you, Ignis, that might bring you dishonor. You will always have a place by my side."
Ignis's hands trembled in his. Touched, Noctis squeezed them a little tighter as he concluded:
"Now rise, as a member of the Crownsguard."
Ignis did as he was bid, and when their eyes met, Noctis shivered at the intensity of his gaze.
"The covenant is forged," Clarus declared, and the crowd echoed the words as one before erupting into cheers.
Noctis released Ignis's hands.
And as the room came back to life around them, Ignis smiled.
