Writing Prompto’s part and got distracted. Still am. But hey here’s some S/G angst for you @achryathesecond
“You have failed in the basic duties as assigned to you. Report to the Office of Affairs in the morning to be reassigned,” the councilor sneered at the blank faced guide in front of him. Why anyone had allowed such a defective guide to even be present when the Prince had been at the Guide Dormitory to select a guide, was beyond him. Far too tall, physically defective and distinctly lacking in any more acceptable guide traits, the Prince’s choice of guide was an error, and one it was past time to correct. Luckily the Dorms were to be bringing a new crop of well trained, well born and very much traditional guides for the Prince tomorrow to choose from. He tapped his fingers across his desk impatiently. “Well?”
“As it pleases my lord,” the expressionless guide said. “If I may be excused to finish attending to the prince?”
This is why he hated these guides, especially these so-called Alpha guides. Too creepy by far and they all reminded him of either empty air headed children or living dolls. This one though, this, he thumbed through the papers in front of him, Ignis Scientia, that was his name, was the worst of them all. Always attending meetings for the prince allowing him to get out of his duties, and never speaking. Always walking the halls without an escort at the least! He wasn’t even properly claimed. No collar or bond mark anywhere to be seen. At least within this office, the guide would have to show some respect to him. Current guide to the prince or not, he was still a commoner and would have to be allowed to leave.
Petty yes, but one had to take the simple pleasures in life where one could. “Get out of my sight,” he ordered, dumping the papers requesting permission for Ignis to attend Crowns Guard training in the trash where they belonged.
Going home was a blur for Ignis. Report to the Office of Affairs. He was twenty, his Sentinel eighteen, and their bond would not hold up to the harsh examination of the officials. He’d known for years that he was an unwelcome element to Noctis’s life in the eyes of most of the nobility. He just hadn’t allowed himself to think of how bad they hated him. In the morning he’d report as ordered, his bond, that bright shining string of stars tying him to his prince, shattered and then..
Bile rose.
** Ignis glanced around the apartment. Clean, well lit, and without a trace of Ignis to be found. There was enough food in the freezer to last a few weeks, until his replacement got their feet under them, and most of his clothes and other belongings were already binned or marked for recycle. There was nothing to threaten a new guide.
Vague curiosity wound it’s way down the bond, preceding the prince. “You’re not staying?” Noctis asked, attention already on his phone. Ignis stared at the prince, just out of the shower, with water dripping down his neck. “I thought tonight was cooking lesson night.”
“Apologies your highness, but I still have to make the donation center tonight before they close.” Noctis glanced up at that, attention slowly coming to focus on Ignis. “I have several items to drop off.”
A frown creased his face. “Why tonight? Why not tomorrow?”
So he hadn’t been told. Silently Ignis cursed the council. He’d have to break the news of the impending bond breaking to the prince then. “I am to report to the Office of Affairs first thing in the morning.”
A snort came from the general direction of the couch where the prince had flopped down. He raised one to rest on the back of it. “Seriously? That’ll take an hour tops, they never take long to give you your yearly credentials.”
“I..I am not being re-credentialed,” Ignis said softly. “I am to be re-assigned.”
The dark mop of hair suddenly popped up, sharp eyes focused on Ignis in a way they hadn’t been for some time. “What did you say?” There was implied threat there in his voice, dangerously calm. A sudden image of the calm before one of the winter storms that crashed on the citadel in the deepest parts of winter flashed in his mind.
Ignis forced himself to speak lightly. “I have been determined to be a hindrance to your highness, and that you would be better suited to someone else as your guide. The Office of Affairs is to assess where I might be of use.” Ignis already knew where - it had been held over his head since he was five. The Sentinel Rehab hospital where if he was lucky he might live another few years in a haze of agony before dying. Ignis could feel a tight noise trying to crawl out of his throat. Guides didn’t last long at the Rehab centers.
He blinked. Noctis was standing in front of him, hands clenched at his side, anger pouring out of him. When had he? “Who said that,” his prince demanded. “You’re my guide! Mine!”
“The council has determined that I am holding you back, and you should be free to pick someone better.” Was that his voice, he wondered? He sounded distant and calm. “They’ve graciously given me tonight to clean out the space needed.”
Noctis grabbed him then, hands holding onto his shirt, more emotions than Ignis had felt in months spilling out. He staggered from the mental impact of them hitting him. “They said what,” the prince hissed out, eyes narrow and angry. Ignis could feel the prince hammering on his shields to try to find out who had been behind this. “They can’t do that!”
Be calm, Ignis repeated to himself, be calm, and know your place, and right now it was to prepare Noctis for a proper bonding with a proper guide chosen by the council. “It has been some time and the council has determined that you have been ill-served by myself. A replacement guide..”
He didn’t get a chance to finish before the anger of a Sentinel going feral washed over him. He stumbled back as Noctis’s weight hit him, dragging him down. A hand was behind his head, cradling his head from hitting the hard surface, before hands were grabbing at his shirt tearing it away.
“Mine!” Noctis was snarling above him, and he reached for his prince, projecting calm, and peace at him. Where was the belligerent prince who refused to look at the reports and even tonight gave him the cold shoulder, he thought hysterically. A shout tore out of him as a tongue licked its way across his skin to his neck.
“Your highness, please,” he gasped. “You don’t want this!” Memories of how he’d been dismissed from Noctis’s presence more and more often rising up his memory, how he’d been forgotten and dismissed at every turn. There was no way Noctis could mean this.
For a brief, moment he thought he’d gotten through to Noctis, as the younger man paused above him, broken the feral haze around him (yet another strike against him was this never going to end he was useless), and then Noctis snarled and bit down as hard as he could.
The stars in their bond exploded outwards, taking Ignis with them.
Ignis gasped, coming back to reality suddenly. His sentinel, was above him, skin to skin, mouth dragging up the back of his neck. “C’mon Specs, c’mon.” His Setinel was chanting above him, even as their bodies wrapped around each other. Eyes wide, he gasped in a breath, as he felt Noctis hit his shields again, hard. “Specs, c’mon let me, let them down.”
A hand tangled with his, hold him down as another traced his down to his. “Let me in Specs.” He shook his head. When had this happened, why were they in Noctis’s room, how had they even gotten there? “Specs!” His sentinel’s voice changed from demanding to almost pleading. “Let me in.”
The angle was awkward, but Ignis managed to force himself to look over his shoulder at his sentinel. Eyes, dark, and half naked behind him, the sentinel still had a bit of blood on his mouth, from the distant ache of his shoulder - he must have been bitten deep. Noctis leaned down and gently rubbed his cheek on Ignis’s shoulder. “You’re mine Specs, let me in, please.”
His heart hurt. His head hurt. He could still feel the Sentinel mentally throwing himself at his shields, trying to get in, to broaden their star lit string, and he shook. He had to stay strong, he wasn’t good enough, his prince deserved better. A whine forced itself out of his throat, “I can’t!”
“Yes you can,” the sentinel soothed. “Just let me in.”
He’d never cried before, but he felt himself sobbing as he felt his shields start to crumble beneath the sentinel’s onslaught; a part of him terrified he was going to wake up in a Respite center, and then he was there. In his mind, beyond what remained of his shielding.
Noctis.
Forcing his way in, finding all the little flaws and imperfections Ignis had used to keep him at bay and soothing them. Distantly he could feel liquid burning down his cheeks, and his desperate gasps for air, but all that was real was Noctis, crawling into him as deep as he could go, and promising Ignis everything, hands and lips pressing to every bit of skin he could, worshiping and treasuring his guide.
“My guide,” the crown prince mumbled into Ignis’s chest much later. “Mine.”
Ignis stared at the ceiling, feeling whole for the first time, as the stars danced for him in his mind’s eye. “Yours,” he said quietly, “my sentinel.” He felt his sentinel smile and satisfaction bubble up between them. The council would need to be dealt with later, but for right now, he was nestled in his sentinel’s bed, body aching pleasantly and mind finally at ease.
