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There was a knock on the door.
Ignis paused, releasing the pot back into the sink of hot water. He rinsed the suds from his hands and dried them on a tea towel on his way to the front door. But when he opened it, he found a stranger. A nervous stranger, hands shaking and face twisted in distress.
Before Ignis could greet the woman or inquire as to her business, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and leaned into his space. “Please,” she began in desperation. “I need help. My brother--”
Ignis gently pried her fingers from his shirt. He tried to be understanding, but this was the third time this week. “Are you perhaps looking for the witch who lives in this building?” he asked.
The woman froze in the middle of her sob story. She blinked up at him owlishly. “...is that not you?”
“No. He’s two floors up,” Ignis explained, and the woman went on her way to find the man who could actually help her.
With a sigh, Ignis let the door fall shut, making sure to lock it before he returned to his sink full of dishes. Honestly, he hadn’t known a moment’s peace in the three months since a supposed “witch” had taken up residence on the fifth floor. For some reason, literally all of the man’s potential clients got their apartment numbers confused. Ignis was in apartment 317, while the witch was in apartment 517.
Perhaps the witch had messy handwriting, Ignis mused as he plunged his hands into the water that was barely cooler than scalding. Maybe his threes and fives were hard to tell apart. Ignis could not claim to know how witches advertised their trade; he had never seen an advertisement of that sort. But somehow, all of these people knew to look for the witch here, in this building, even if they persistently got the apartment number wrong.
Luckily, most who mistakenly came to Ignis’ door did not return, suggesting that they did not repeat the mistake. There was one exception, but since he had been drunk every time Ignis saw him, Ignis was inclined to believe inebriation was the culprit.
It was annoying, but there was little Ignis could do. He was determined not to be curious about the witch, though he had seen him on occasion. Like his customers, his mail often seemed to get lost, finding its way into Ignis’ mailbox instead of his own.
“Sorry, dude. I swear it’s the magic,” the blond had said, laughing a little with embarrassment as he accepted the handful of questionable envelopes from Ignis. “It makes technology go whacky, too. Win some, lose some, I guess?”
The blond’s name was Prompto, and he was always friendly and smiling whenever Ignis encountered him in the lobby or the elevator or delivered his mail to his door. He’d even sent Ignis small gifts as apologies for the inconvenience on more than one occasion.
Sweet and friendly as he may be, he was the bane of Ignis’ existence.
He did not believe Prompto was a witch, of course. Far more likely that he was a scatterbrained fortune teller or palm reader or other such ridiculousness who couldn’t remember his own address. Ignis did not want fools who believed in nonsense appearing at his door regularly. And it had been happening more and more since the season shifted into autumn.
Autumn was the season for superstition, it seemed. It was the time when the whole of Lucis recalled their past of being plagued by demons, culminating in the festival “Daemon’s Night.” Among the festivities included carving pumpkins into faces and designs to reminisce the protective talismans of the past, though now it was more for fun than to ward off demons. Children would go door to door in costumes for candy, though Ignis wasn’t certain where either of those traditions originated.
It was a time of magic and superstition, of curses and demons--or so people would have you believe. Ignis was a realist, and he didn’t buy into such things, even if he did like some of the silly traditions. He had just finished making some spooky-themed treats for Noctis and Gladio, who were supposed to come over later for a small Daemon’s Night party. Normally Iris would join them, but she was at the age where she wanted to spend time with her friends rather than following her big brother around. So it would just be the three of them.
Another knock at the door, just after all the dishes had been dried and put away. Ignis glanced at the clock, then across the room to see out the living room window. The sun was beginning to set, but it was too early yet for it to be trick-or-treaters. And the other two weren’t set to arrive for another few hours.
It had better not be clients for the witch again.
He opened the door, and was surprised to see Gladio. “Gladio! I wasn’t expecting you so early. ...Is that a cat?” Ignis asked, puzzled, for Gladio indeed held a cat in his muscular arms. A black one, with the bluest eyes Ignis had ever seen on a cat so dark.
“It’s Noct,” Gladio wheezed out. He was breathing hard, as if he’d run all the way here.
Ignis was alarmed. “Noctis? What happened? Is he hurt?” Just yesterday Noctis had been complaining about having to spend time with some relatives from out of town this morning, and Ignis had promised him enough delicious treats to make up for it.
Gladio held out the cat. “It’s Noctis.”
Brow furrowed, Ignis accepted the cat. “Gladio, I’m afraid I don’t understand. What’s happened to Noctis?”
He was further affronted when Gladio grabbed his shoulders. He opened his mouth to tell Gladio to calm down and start making sense when Gladio cut him off.
”The cat is Noctis.”
Ignis looked down.
“Hi, Specs,” the cat said, and Ignis nearly dropped it in surprise. That was Noctis’ voice.
“Gladiolus Amicitia, explain what is going on right now.”
Gladio pushed his way into the apartment while Ignis was still staring down at the cat, which may or may not be Noctis, in dismayed horror. It was Noct who began the explanation while Gladio rummaged around in the kitchen behind Ignis, who was too busy staring to see what he was up to.
“Well, my weird uncle Ardyn came to visit from out of town,” Noctis explained. The cat really did talk. In Noctis’ voice. Ignis was not imagining it. “He’s, like, ancient, but looks younger than my dad. He dresses like a wandering circus performer and always smells like gardenias...”
“Not important,” Ignis said. Someone please get to the point.
“Well, Uncle Ardyn has been claiming to be a witch since forever. He used to show me small tricks when I was a kid, and he tried to show me some today. But you said that stuff is all sleight of hand. And I told him so. I guess he got offended. Next thing I knew, he’d turned me into a cat.”
“It’s true. I saw it,” Gladio said from behind him. Ignis turned, still holding cat-Noctis under the armpits, in time to see Gladio take a shot of the vodka he’d dug out of Ignis’ cupboards. “Then that Ardyn bastard toddles off drunk and fucking disappears. Regis and my dad are blowing up his phone trying to find him and make him turn Noct back, but his phone says it’s out of service.”
“Do you know what hotel he’s staying at?” Ignis asked, trying to find a thread of logic in this bizarre story.
“He was supposed to stay with us,” Noct replied. “But he’s... well, weird. So he wandered off. Now no one can contact him.”
“When is he coming back?” Ignis set Noctis down carefully on the sofa.
“Dunno.” Noctis stared up at him. Then, in a tentative voice, said, “You look really big from down here.”
Ignis detected the edge of fear in Noct’s voice and knelt immediately. Noctis had told the story as matter-of-factly as he could, but he must be afraid to be in such a bizarre situation.
“I didn’t know what else to do, so I brought him here.” That was Gladio, standing at the edge of the living room with another shot of vodka in hand. The Six knew how many he’d downed already. But Gladio’s amber eyes were hopeful. “You’re smart. You’ll figure something out. Right?”
’I’m not a miracle worker,’ Ignis wanted to say, but in truth he was glad that Gladio and Noctis had come to him. He would do all he could to help.
“Unfortunately, I do know someone who... might be able to fix this,” Ignis said. It was impossible to refute Ardyn’s magic with the proof right in front of his eyes, but he still wasn’t convinced that Prompto was the genuine article. Scam artists were abundant, after all, and there were certainly those who believed they had power despite no concrete evidence.
Gladio’s face relaxed in relief. “Great! I knew we could count on you, Iggy.”
“Oh, hey!” Prompto said once he’d flung the door open. Ignis and Gladio stood outside his door with Noctis perched on Gladio’s shoulder. “Ignis. You have good timing! I was just about to head out. Is it the mail again?”
Ignis wondered how much of the cheer was natural and how much was put on. “Hello, Prompto,” he said. He couldn’t help a touch of embarrassment about being in the position to have to ask this supposed “witch” for help after mentally trash-talking him for months. “I’m afraid not. I’m... we’re here as customers, today.”
Prompto’s head tilted in a birdlike gesture, and curiosity radiated from those brilliant blue eyes. He had a darling face covered with freckles. Adorable, as Ignis had thought when the blond had first moved in, despite his presence in the building being a menace to Ignis’ peace. “Oh, sure,” he said, stepping back in the manner of someone accustomed to allowing strangers into his space. “C’mon in.”
“Your errands?” Ignis asked, following him inside and kicking his shoes off.
“They can wait.”
Prompto’s apartment was identical to Ignis’ in all but furnishings. It was somehow both emptier and messier than Ignis’ space, but there was a comfortable couch and a chair that didn’t match, both probably picked up at a yard sale or secondhand store. The pair sat while Prompto went into the kitchen to pour juice into mismatched mugs. Also probably from a thrift store, Ignis observed. Perhaps magic didn’t pay well.
“So, what’s the problem?” Prompto asked, acting like it was nothing unusual for two men and a cat to stop by his apartment.
Gladio looked expectantly to Ignis, clearly waiting for him to tell the story he’d had no part in until now.
Ignis sighed. How to explain? It would sound absurd. It was absurd. But surely Prompto had heard worse.
Even if he hadn’t, convincing himself of that was the only way Ignis was going to get the words past his lips. “Noctis has been turned into a cat by his uncle.” Ah. Perhaps that was too blunt. Not enough backstory, maybe? But surely Prompto didn’t need to know the hows in order to undo it.
Prompto’s eyes went round, then shot to Noctis, who had hopped down to the coffee table and was examining Gladio’s drink. “Dude, really?”
Whatever reaction Ignis had expected, excitement had not been it.
Prompto bent down to examine Noct more closely. Noct allowed the inspection, but stared back with unblinking eyes. He truly did look like a cat.
“That,” Prompto said, voice a hushed whisper that vibrated with barely suppressed excitement, “is so cool.”
“I beg your pardon?” Ignis demanded, appalled, but Prompto wasn’t paying attention.
“Hey buddy, can I pick you up for a closer look?” Prompto asked, holding his arms out for Noctis.
Noctis wasn’t thrilled. Ignis could tell even though he wasn’t particularly well-versed in feline body language. He had known Noctis long enough to know that Noct was never at ease around strangers. But he seemed to accept the necessity of it, because after a long hesitation, Noctis minced across the table and allowed Prompto to pick him up.
Prompto held Noct up to his face and studied him. A little furrow appeared between his brows and he stuck the tip of his tongue out as he turned Noctis this way and that. It was adorable.
No. It wasn't. Prompto was a menace. Just because he was helping Ignis didn't mean that he wouldn't continue to infringe on Ignis' peace.
Besides, he hadn't actually done anything to help yet. It may be that he truly was a hack, as Ignis had originally suspected.
Ignis hoped not, though, for Noct's sake.
Prompto whistled. “Oh, yeah. That’s some strong magic.” He still sounded thrilled. “It’s really hard to transform people. Your uncle must be super powerful.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Noct said, looking pleadingly to Gladio for help. Gladio responded with a thumbs up.
The look on Prompto's face wasn't encouraging. Prompto gave Noct a gentle scratch behind the ears, which Ignis expected Noct to scratch him for. Instead, Noct tilted his head to the side and purred. Then he made a surprised sound and stepped away, retreating back to Gladio's lap.
Prompto didn't seem to mind or even notice Noct's retreat. He was chewing on his thumbnail and staring out the window in thought.
"So you can't change him back?" Ignis asked.
A hack, as he'd suspected.
"...I can," Prompto said. "I mean, I know the spell. It's the power that'll be a problem."
"Meaning?" Gladio asked. He had wrapped both arms protectively around Noctis and yet still somehow managed to hold him as though he would shatter at any moment.
Prompto gestured with a hand, keeping the other crossed over his chest. "Listen, I'm small-time. Whoever Noct's uncle is, he must be incredibly powerful to pull something like this off. Transforming yourself? Difficult, but doable for most mid-range witches. Transforming a sentient being without their consent? Next to impossible."
Prompto glanced back at Noct and shook his head, more to himself than any of the others. "Your uncle is a show off."
"I don't need you to tell me that," Noct muttered, voice muffled by Gladio's arm. "Wait 'till you see how he dresses."
All of which was beside the point. Obviously Ignis would have to be the one to get them back on track. "But you think you can do it?" he demanded.
"Yeah. Probably. If I had help."
"Help? From who?" Noct asked, sounding more hopeful than he'd been all evening.
"Well, it'd be best if your uncle came back and undid the spell himself. It's easier to break your own spell than someone else's," Prompto explained. As he spoke, he crossed the room to a bag on the counter. He shoved objects whose purpose Ignis couldn't begin to guess into the bag, still chattering. "But, uh, if you don't think he's gonna come back in time, I'll have to recruit some help to give me enough juice to turn you back."
“What kind of help?” Ignis asked suspiciously as Prompto moved to the closet.
“Specialized help. But don’t worry, you guys won’t be in any danger. I’m gonna need you to go in costume, though. Did you have anything ready?” Prompto waited a beat. “Because if not, I’ll throw something together. People give me a lot of stuff in exchange for helping them.”
Although Ignis didn’t understand why costumes were needed, he was inclined to follow Prompto’s expertise on the matter. Who knew what kind of creature a witch would seek help from?
“I have some in my closet from last year,” he said with great reluctance. “Where shall we meet you?”
Prompto's eyes brightened more than Ignis thought the situation called for, but Ignis was too distracted by the breathtaking beauty of the brilliant blue to be annoyed by it. “Great! Outside the front doors? Is fifteen long enough?”
“Yes.” Ignis didn't intend to do anything elaborate, after all. It shouldn't be necessary, right?
And a scant fifteen minutes later, they were heading out the front doors to meet Prompto, who paced back and forth by an ornamental hedge, gnawing on a thumbnail. His face brightened again when he saw them, and Ignis wondered if the perpetual cheer exhausted him as much as it exhausted Ignis to look at. Surely it must consume a lot of energy?
“Hey! You guys look great!” he said. “Good, good. Luna will be pleased.”
It would be a lie to say that Ignis' cheeks didn't warm when Prompto's eyes raked over him, or that he didn't feel a pang of disappointment when Prompto pulled his phone out of his pocket to check it. He had wanted those eyes to linger on him a moment more...
Though, if he'd wanted such attention, he probably should have worn something more attractive than an old Crownsguard uniform. Cor had said Ignis could keep it when he'd found it in the man’s closet, and it made for a low-maintenance costume, so Ignis had accepted. He thought he looked clean and polished. Very professional. But perhaps that wasn't the kind of look Prompto liked.
It did seem like Prompto liked Gladio's costume better. It was the same headless horseman costume that Gladio had worn the previous year, except instead of an actual jack-o'-lantern tucked under his arm, he had Noct instead.
Even Noct was dressed in a little pumpkin costume with a jack-o'-lantern face hastily painted on the side, though the Astrals only knew where Gladio had dug it up from. For now, Noct was cradled in Gladio's arm, content to receive scritches despite sulking about the costume. Ignis might have teased but suspected Gladio's constant petting was the only thing holding the two of them together. Having one's boyfriend unexpectedly turned into a cat must be worrying Gladio, and turning [i]into[/i] a cat was probably worse.
As for Prompto, Ignis supposed that he was supposed to be a moogle, if the furry coat, fluffy scarf, and bat wings were any indication. Plus the headband with the red ball that bounced around on a spring, bobbing in Prompto's face from time to time as the man seemed unable to hold still.
The group started down the sidewalk. The sun was finally starting to slip below the horizon. The first trick-or-treaters had taken to the streets, mostly toddlers with their parents. The older children would start to appear in another hour or two, as they could stay up later and weren't as likely to be afraid of the dark or scary costumes.
"So, uh, have you guys ever been to a faerie revel before?" Prompto asked after they'd been walking for some time in tense silence.
"A what?" Noct asked. It was the first he'd spoken since Gladio had put the pumpkin costume on him.
"It's, like, a faerie party," Prompto explained. "They have dancing and food and stuff. But, uh, don't dance. Or eat anything. It's really dangerous for mortals."
This at least Ignis knew from old tales read to him and Noct during lighthearted childhood days. "Or we'll be trapped by them or forced to dance to death?" he asked dryly.
"Yep!"
Still so perky. Ignis frowned sideways at Prompto as Gladio asked, "We really have to bring Noct to such a dangerous place?"
“Well... yeah. I can't ask Luna to leave the revel. She's the [i]host.[/i] But I'm gonna need her power, so...” Prompto shrugged.
The group turned down another less populated street, which was a vision of leaves in brilliant reds and oranges and dull browns. Not all had been shed to the ground yet, so leaves drifted down around them, knocked from their branches by the gentle breeze. Ignis recognized the route. This direction would take them to the park.
The park itself was unusually deserted. The sight gave Ignis goosebumps. This wouldn't be an attractive place for trick-or-treaters, of course, but he had expected there to be some teens lurking about and setting off firecrackers or plotting what they would wrap in toilet paper. Instead, the park was dark and silent. Except.
There was a path that Ignis couldn't recall being there before, even though he had walked through this park on Sunday mornings for years. Each side of the path was lined with miniature pumpkins, the kind that parents bought for children too young to be trusted with a knife. And yet these ones had been hollowed out and carved, lit from within by flickering candlelight that illuminated the strange designs carved into their flesh, more delicate and complex than human hands could accomplish.
An ominous feeling tickled the back of Ignis' neck as he followed Prompto between the rows. It almost felt like the jack-o'-lanterns watched them as they walked, grotesquely carved faces turning to follow their progress.
“That's Ifrit, isn't it?” he heard Noct murmur behind him and turned his head in time to see the carved visage of the Infernian sneer at him as he passed. Ah, and here was Ramuh, and Leviathan, and the delicate and pretty Shiva.
“Prompto,” Ignis said quietly when the feeling of danger grew unbearable.
Whatever cowardice had befallen Ignis, Prompto seemed immune; the eyes that turned back curiously to check on him were as cheerful and alert as ever. “Ah,” Prompto said when he caught sight of the pallor of Ignis' face. He backtracked a few steps until he was at Ignis' side, staring up at him in worry. “Sorry, I should've warned you. It's faerie magic designed to turn people away.”
“I guess they don't want people showing up uninvited,” Gladio grumbled behind them, but Ignis could hear the strain beneath the irritation.
“Yeah. Without me here, you guys wouldn't be able to get even this far. Here, hold my hand. It'll help.” And Ignis was staring at a callused, freckled hand held out to him in friendly offering.
He stared long enough for Prompto's smile to falter. For his fingers to start to curl and his hand to retract. Which, of course, was what Ignis wanted. He didn't want to hold hands with this magician, who may not be fake after all, but who was still annoying.
So why did he reach out to grab that hand before it could fully pull away?
Both of their hands were ungloved, and Prompto's fingers were warm when Ignis wrapped his own around them. Was the flush on Prompto's cheeks from the chill? It had to be. Ignis was not so arrogant to assume it was because of [i]him.[/i]
But Prompto was right. Ignis didn't know if it was magic or Prompto's comforting presence, but he did feel better with Prompto's hand in his. It was nice. Nice enough for him to ignore Gladio's muffled chuckling from behind him and Noct's quiet “Shut up. Leave them alone.”
If he pretended he didn't hear it, he wouldn't have to be embarrassed. And if he were not embarrassed, there would be no reason to let go of Prompto's hand.
The path angled down, a far steeper incline than any of the paths that Ignis was familiar with. His hand tightened on Prompto's as they descended into a cavern that by all rights and logic should not exist.
Prompto squeezed back. “Don't worry. I'm with you,” he murmured. “I won't let anything happen to you guys. Okay?”
“All right,” Ignis said. He drew a deep breath and kept walking.
Strange glowing plants and more jack-o'-lanterns lit the path only enough for them to see where they placed their feet and no further.
“It feels weird down here,” Noct whispered.
“Bad weird?” Gladio asked, and Ignis didn't need to turn around to know what Gladio's immediate instinct was to comfort and protect.
"Weird weird," Noct said. This time Ignis did glance back and found that Noct had tucked himself under the lapels of Gladio's oversized jacket. "My skin feels itchy. Like bug legs."
"You're probably sensitive to faerie magic," Prompto said, frowning a little in worry. "It makes sense. If your uncle is powerful enough to turn you into a cat, you probably have a little magic of your own."
"I don't like it," Noct grumbled.
"Try to endure it for now. But let me know if it starts feeling painful."
Ignis bent down to whisper into Prompto's ear. "It won't harm Noct, right?"
Prompto shook his head. "It shouldn't. It's just an awareness. He's not used to it, so it's uncomfy."
Well, that was a relief, that Noct would not be harmed by the ambient faerie magic. But Ignis couldn't completely relax under such strange circumstances.
The path opened up into a large cavern. Trails of lights that flickered like firelight dangled from the ceiling above the dancers, who were equal parts beautiful and grotesque as they spun around the floor. Following the tempo of the music seemed to be optional. Some of the faeries spun much faster than the high notes of stringed instruments that Ignis couldn't see. Others twirled slowly, almost lethargically across the floor, arms spread and eyes closed.
All wore costumes, from one-piece cat pajamas to standard human costumes like cowboys and pirates. Tables of food sat on each side of the hall drifting tantalizing smells their way...
Ignis didn't realize he'd started to drift until Prompto's nails dug into his hand, jolting him back to awareness. He looked down into Prompto's worried face and flushed. How embarrassing! To think he had almost let himself be ensnared by faerie spells!
"My apologies," he gasped out. He was somehow breathless as if he had been running. "I don't know what--"
Prompto's grip had relaxed when Ignis returned to his senses, leaving white crescent moons in Ignis' skin. Now it tightened again in reassurance.
"Don't worry about it," Prompto said. "It happens."
Still. It was shameful. Ignis should be in better control of himself.
"Gladio? Noct? Are the two of you doing all right?" Ignis asked. His head throbbed with the beginnings of a headache.
Blasted faerie magic!
"Just peachy," Gladio ground out.
"I'm fine," Noct said. And he did sound fine. Perhaps whatever magical awareness Prompto said he had protected him. "And I've got Gladio. Don't worry."
Ignis didn't want to risk losing his concentration by looking around. He would just have to take them at their word.
After what felt like a hundred years of intense concentration, they made it to the other side of the dance floor. Here a section of rock had been carved out and separated from the dance floor by a translucent beaded curtain flanked by two faerie guards who prevented them from passing through.
Before any of them could speak, however, a faerie woman swept through the curtain as though it wasn't there and curtsied to Prompto.
"Well met, Prompto," she said in a quiet, melodious voice. Her dark hair fell around a pale oval face that was impassive but for a subtle smile.
Prompto bowed to her in return. "Lady Gentiana. Always a pleasure." In doing so, he had to let go of Ignis' hand, which left him feeling strangely vulnerable in front of this woman who seemed human only in shape.
"You are here to meet with the princess?" Gentiana asked. Those oddly emotionless eyes swept over their group, but her face revealed nothing of her thoughts.
"Yes, if she's willing." Prompto's voice became more formal when speaking to the fae. He stood straighter, looked more serious. Ignis didn't like it.
He'd always thought Prompto's cheerfulness was false. A manipulation tactic. But this... this was obviously wrong. But perhaps such things were necessary in a faerie court.
Gentiana inclined her head just slightly and swept back through the curtain. Understanding, they followed her.
The beads felt cold against Ignis' skin, as if they had been carved from ice. Perhaps they had, and faerie magic kept them from melting. Also carved from ice were the two thrones, intricate and too fragile to hold the beings they did.
The pair might have been carved from ice themselves. Pale blond hair, pale skin, pale blue eyes: all white and subtle hints of gold. The woman stood to greet them, while the man slumped on his throne and glared at them.
"Prom! How lovely to see you!" she said, beaming and holding out slim white hands for him to hold.
He did, and Ignis hated it. He hated that they matched, her all pale and cool and him golden and warm.
He especially hated how radiant she was when she smiled.
"Luna! Do you have time now? To help me with something? I know you have guests, but--" Prompto said.
"Of course. What can I help you with?" Luna asked and was interrupted when the man still sprawled on his throne made an ugly noise behind her.
"The nerve of humans, asking favours from my sister without offering anything in return," he sneered.
Prompto withered. "I--"
Luna frowned back at her brother. "Ravus. It's my decision."
"Lunafreya--"
But she ignored him, smiling radiantly at Prompto once more. "If you would follow me?"
She clacked across the floor on towering, thin heels of ice. Prompto bounced along beside her, explaining the situation with a lot of hand gestures. Ignis felt bereft following them. As if he'd been abandoned by this man he barely knew.
Luna took them to a small side chamber that appeared to serve as a dressing room. There was a vanity and an enormous mushroom that seemed to serve as a stool. Luna took a seat on it and held her arms out. "May I see him?" she asked, indicating Noct.
Gladio hesitated, one hand going protectively to Noct's head. Noct, however, wiggled to be let down, so Gladio handed him over with reluctance.
Noct seemed self-conscious perched on her lap, ill at ease in a way he had not been with Gladio. "Sorry," he said whenever his paws so much as twitched on her thighs or the silky material of her dress.
"No need," she said, running manicured fingers lightly over night-black fur. "This is quite a powerful spell," she told Prompto. "I see why you came to me for help."
"Yeah. Do you mind?" he asked, fidgeting from foot to foot.
"Not at all. If you could come help me? It's best if we get started. He seems ill at ease." Luna smiled at the guilty look Noct sent up to her.
"Sorry," Noct said, for perhaps the fifteenth time.
Ignis and Gladio leaned against the wall to give the two magic workers some space. The astrals knew Ignis didn't want to get caught up in whatever spell they wrought. Prompto had wanted them to leave the room entirely, just to be safe, but neither was willing to leave Noct.
And, maybe, Ignis wasn't willing to leave Prompto "alone" with the faerie princess either.
Luna set Noct down on the floor in the centre of a circle Prompto scrawled in chalk. They drew symbols around the edge of the circle, but they seemed to shift and blur whenever Ignis tried to focus on them. It hurt his eyes much like when he stayed up too late working on his laptop, so he looked away. The objects from Prompto’s backpack were placed at the cardinal points around the circle, and Luna offset them with crystals pulled from the walls.
Luna knelt on one side of the circle and Prompto on the other. They leaned forward so that Noct was between their spread hands.
"This is gonna feel a bit strange," Prompto told Noct. "Maybe a bit tingly. But it shouldn't hurt! So let us know if it does!"
"Yeah, for sure," Noct said. He looked back over his shoulder at Gladio for reassurance. Gladio gave him a worried smile and a thumbs up.
"Hey, you already know what being turned into a cat feels like. How hard can being turned back be?" Gladio said.
Noct didn't look convinced. Ignis wasn't well-versed in feline facial expressions, but the twitching tail seemed to indicate anxiety.
"You're in good hands, Noct," Ignis assured him. He hoped it was true.
"Ready?" Prompto asked Luna.
"Yes." Her face was calm, serene. It would be easy for someone to love her. Ignis would not blame Prompto if he did.
The space between their hands began to glow, mixed white and blue. Noct, in the middle of the blaze of light, vanished from view. Ignis covered his eyes. It was too bright.
He expected there to be some sound to accompany the change. A mysterious magical sound, or at least a rustling. Instead, there were only the distant sounds of the revel. The quiet was only broken by Noct's human voice saying "Well, that was less dramatic than expected."
Ignis uncovered his eyes. Noct was human again. He looked perfectly normal and fully clothed. It wasn't until the clothes registered in Ignis' brain that it occurred to him that Noct could have been stark naked. Well. Thank goodness that wasn't the case.
Mere seconds after Luna gestured to indicate that Noct could leave the magic circle, Gladio was swooping in to embrace him. Noct's face in his shoulder. Noct's arms around his neck.
Ignis politely looked away as Noct drew in a deep, shuddering breath and released all the fears he had been holding that evening in the safe embrace of Gladio's arms.
Instead, he was treated to the sight of Prompto holding Luna's hands and thanking her for her help. "I couldn't have done it without you!"
Luna smiled back, a softer brightness to Prompto's blazing sun. The two of them together were like the sun and the moon: a perfect pair.
How positively depressing.
There was no reason for Ignis to feel put out, he tried to reason with himself as he trailed behind the group back to the noise and light of the party. It wasn't as though he'd been hoping for anything. He barely knew Prompto, after all. He should merely be grateful that Noct was back to normal and none the worse for wear.
Such thoughts did nothing to improve his deflated mood though.
Back in the throne room, Ravus looked more cross than ever watching the swirling colours of the dancers through the translucent curtain. He was in the company of a busty blonde in a Letterman jacket who seemed to be talking his ear off about... mechanics?
Ravus seemed about as interested in the topic as Ignis would expect a fae to be in cogs and gears and hydraulics. The expression that crossed his face at the sight of them was of one greeting his savior...
If he was highly irritated with his savior, that is.
"Lunafreya!" he snapped. "Please get your wife away from me."
Luna let out a tinkling laugh and parted from Prompto's side, gliding across the floor to loop her pale arms around the blonde woman's. "Come dance with me, darling," she said, and the other woman followed with a grin and a jaunty wave at the men as they passed through the curtain.
Ignis was still processing this new information when Ravus grumbled a question, "Will you be staying for the party?"
"Nah," Prompto said, cheerful even in the face of Ravus' unfriendliness. "These guys have their own party to get back to."
It was full night by the time they emerged from the faerie tunnel. The double lines of Jack-o'-lanterns were no less eerie in the lack of light and still seemed to follow them like so many unfriendly eyes.
Prompto's hand slipped back into his. Whispered words of magic pushed away the faerie magic that pressed against Ignis' body, urging him to run. Breathing was suddenly much easier, and the muscles in his back relaxed.
"Thank you," Ignis said, unable to look directly at Prompto. His face felt hot, and he was certain the flush would only become more obvious if he looked at Prompto directly.
It was useless. He caught the flash of white teeth in the corner of his eye, and that was enough to do him in. "No problem," Prompto said. "I'm always happy to help. Though, uh, hopefully Noct's uncle will settle down and you won't need my help again."
"Yes. Hopefully," Ignis said without much feeling. He wouldn't have an excuse to talk to Prompto in the future.
They lapsed into silence. Noct and Gladio were walking in front of them, hand in hand for different reasons. Ignis was envious of them, of the way Gladio was able to lean into Noct's space to hear a soft-spoken comment. Of the easy laughter that Gladio's response could elicit from Noct.
Ignis had never been jealous of them in the year since they had gotten together, and he still wasn't; he didn't want either of them for himself. He just wished he could be so bold as to flirt with Prompto the way his friends flirted with each other.
It wasn't until they were well out of the park, halfway down Ignis' street with the apartment complex in sight, that Ignis realized that Prompto hadn't let go of his hand, either.
Oh. Well. He glanced sideways and down.
Prompto was smiling faintly and humming to himself, swinging their joined hands with easy comfort. 'Don't get your hopes up,' Ignis thought, but his words went unheeded by his own heart. His hopes soared, and even the sobering thought that perhaps Prompto would have liked holding hands with anyone didn't dampen them.
It gave Ignis a surge of boldness.
"Prompto," he began, drawing Prompto's attention up to his face. Prompto smiled expectantly, seemingly trying to convey I'm listening without uttering a word. "Before all this happened, Gladio, Noct, and I had planned a little get together at my apartment. Would you like to join us?"
Prompto beamed. The effect was momentarily blinding, stunning Ignis enough that he nearly walked into Gladio's broad back. "Yeah! Sounds great!"
When they got back to Ignis' apartment, though, a surprise awaited them.
"Funny," Ignis remarked, staring at Ardyn who had sprawled out on the couch. For who else could this be? Noct had said that his uncle dressed like a travelling circus performer. And Ignis’ apartment now smelled overpoweringly of gardenias. "I believe I locked the door when I left."
Ardyn beamed at him. "A locked door can't stop me, dear boy," he said. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and he hummed as though pleased.
"Neither can manners, I presume," Ignis said coldly, and watched Ardyn deflate like a balloon.
"Hi, Uncle Ardyn," Noct said. The tone was neutral, but there was a deep frown on his face that indicated that he had not forgiven his uncle for the time he'd spent as a cat. "Nice of you to show up."
"I didn't plan to leave you as a cat," Ardyn protested, twisting his rings around his fingers. "I came back as soon as I realized. But it seems you didn't need my help."
"Well, yeah. You never leave a way to contact you. I wasn't gonna wait around and hope you came to turn me back."
They bickered back and forth in the way of old relatives, and Ignis patted Prompto's shoulder. Prompto looked a little out of his depth, and trailed after Ignis into the kitchen when Ignis went to get the snacks ready.
"I believe the plan was a horror movie marathon," Ignis told Prompto, passing an oversized bowl of popcorn into his hands.
"Sounds great," Prompto said, grinning up at him and flushing as their fingers brushed.
Ignis smiled and blushed back, finally at ease for the night. "We're doing another movie night next Friday," he found himself saying, “if you wanted to come."
"Yeah. I'd like that."
They stood there and smiled like idiots for the Astrals only knew how long before Noct yelled from the living room for them to hurry up. They went to join the warmth of friendly conversation.
Ignis already looked forward to seeing Prompto again.