iwillshieldhim | The World We Fought For [for fieryknowledge]

The cacophony of the battle had left Ignis almost senseless. In the back of his mind, he was screaming, begging for one last chance to turn and go to his prince, his King.. to hold him and support him one last time as he took on the mantle of the Chosen King, but he remained at his brothers' side. One vicious last stand. One last chance to protect the man they'd waited ten years for.

One breath, painful. Two breaths, stuttering as his body started to give out. The third stolen away as everything just-

stopped.

For a moment, the daemons' screams left him as deaf as he was blind and he staggered, falling to his knees in confusion, waiting for one last blade to fall. Then, there would be peace. The wash of warmth across his ichor streaked face was a peace he didn't expect. It left his brain struggling to catch up even as he slowly came to realize that death wasn't coming for him. Noctis had done it. His king had succeeded.

The fourth breath was painful, rattling in his chest as he wheezed out for his beloved brothers, a now empty hand reaching as if to expect someone to be there. For once, for the first time in years, he couldn't get his bearings.

He couldn't breathe.

Prompto struggled hard to get a breath into his lungs, but every time he tried, it burned, it burned to the core of his being like he was breathing in acid, so every time, he let it all out as a shout. He thought he'd come to accept it, that he was going to watch his brother and the love of his life walk to his death to save them all. He hadn't. So he shouted his rage against the world even as he fought to save it.

He couldn't even remember when the claws had scoured across him, catching the upper end of his cheek bone and jaw and skirting back into his hair to lay a pair of massive wounds that nearly took off his ear, but he couldn't even feel it. It felt like he couldn't feel anything at all except how much his heart hurt. He was doing everything in his power just to keep dodging, to reload and fire and reload and fire again because he had promised to give Noct time-

Something flew out of the corner of his eye, and he only barely just looked in time to see Gladio fall. It felt like everything stopped. Gladio... Gladio laying there, unmoving. The Shield had fallen.

Everyone... everyone knew the shield would break before the blade...

He was the only one who truly saw it. It felt like everything stopped because it did.

Because the sun was, for the first time in ten years, rising.

Prompto stared towards it, not feeling as tears and blood mixed down his face, unable to look away from the beauty of it even as it threatened to blind him. The warmth on his face had been so long ago that it wasn't even a sensation he could remember and it tingled as it caressed his skin.

They had done it. Noct had done it.

Prompto fell to his knees in the light of the new day, and in a throat ragged, let out a ragged sound of raw pain.

That? He recognized that sound and the voice caught up in it. Beyond his own pain, he turned his head, trying to focus on that sound. Long buried instincts kicked in and for a moment, there was a glimpse of the man that Gladio had teased about being a mother hen. When he opened his mouth to call out to his fellow survivor, his voice was more a croak, ragged thanks to his own share of screaming in the battle and lingering pain.

He wanted to ask what Prompto saw, but he was afraid to. He already knew. Death. Too much blood. He hadn't heard Gladio and he would've, so-

His voice cut off with a sob as that clasping hand dropped to rest limp against his bent knees. If his eyes hadn't been ruined so long ago, he'd be weeping for them. All of them.

"Prom. Prom! Go. Find our King. Find him!"

... they couldn't be the only ones left. Even now, his heart aching, he knew that Noctis came first. Prompto would find him while he regained his bearings and his feet and searched for his own love, fallen among the rubble.

...Find him. They knew, they all knew where Noct had to be. Why..? They all knew what it would come to. Prompto wasn't even sure he could get to his feet, but through some slow, supreme will and effort beyond even his own, he found himself there even as every inch of him ached and his head swam. Find him.

He started slowly towards the steps of the Citadel, struggling for every step, but he knew what Ignis had to be looking forward even as he couldn't see. So when he got towards Ignis, he reached out and took his shoulder, tilting him slightly in the right direction. "...twenty meters, straight ahead."

Then started up the stairs, leaving a blood trail behind him.

The hand on his shoulder was enough to startle him for a moment. His mind was elsewhere, still trying to work through the sounds around him, birds heralding the new dawn was something he hadn't heard in so long that he'd forgotten the sound mixed with the sounds of battle still heavy in his mind. Add on the scent of tacky blood in the heavy air and Ignis was reeling from his lack of sight.

The touch, though, was grounding. He reached up and settled a shaking hand atop Prompto's in silent gratitude before he stumbled off as he'd been directed.

He stumbled many times, his knees bloody and pained thanks to how many times he'd found the debris between himself and his love. He knew what he'd find. He knew that the Shield had finally been broken and while part of him dreaded finding that, he had to. He had to touch Gladio's face one last time before he went on to face the dawn.

... if he could.

It took long than he'd like to reach his lover's side and when he tumbled to the ground next to him, that sob was back in his throat as numb hands reached for the body he knew was there. There was a choked off apology on those lips as he ran his hands over the heavy material of his uniform, each rend in it making his voice shake even more. Oh, his love had suffered and he hadn't been there to help ease it. He should've been able to be there-

Yet as Prompto numbly stood in an elevator, slowly rising through the levels of the Citadel to the throne room he was finding more by some magnetism than remembered way, Ignis would start to realize something as he felt along Gladio's body.

There was movement. Gladio was breathing. Prompto had only seen him fall and hit the ground, but he had no idea that Gladio was only unconscious, not dead.

His arm was at an unnatural angle under him, suggesting something was definitely wrong, but Gladio was still breathing as the light started to coat them both. It brought with it warmth, a true warmth that had been missing, as the corpses of daemons melted away for the final time, disappating into nothingness. The Starscourage was no more, thanks to their sacrifices.

... it couldn't be. His hands were shaking. That was the motion he felt. It had to be. But there it was, that slow rise of that powerful chest that he knew so well. Moaning out Gladio's name, he bent down, settling his cheek against that mighty chest and when he heard his heart beating there, the moaned name shifted into pleading, the hands drifting along cataloging injuries with the intent to try and help instead of mapping out what had finished him.

For the moment, his own pain was forgotten. The flesh clawed free along his flank was numb and the burns along his back forgotten as he called out to his lover to please wake up. Even the blessed dawn faded away as he focused in on each rise and fall of his lover's chest.

The ribs felt caved in under Ignis' searching hands, all from that final blow Gladio had taken that had left him like this. The bend of his arm, all the way up to the shoulder that had to be popped out joint at best, shattered at worst. The terrible stain of blood from claws.

Yet in the darkness, Ignis' voice was a cry of light that the dawn itself couldn't touch. It dragged Gladio out of the depths of unconsciousness and slowly filtered in through hissing static in his ears until he recognized just what it was. Possibly the only thing that could force him to open his eyes slowly, painfully, squinting through too much light that surrounded Ignis above him like an aura.

"...Ig... Ignis?" His voice barely made it out, just a croak.

Am I dead?

Hurt too much to be dead.

Why couldn't he move, then?

Dismay and dread eased into a broken sounding laugh as Ignis cupped Gladio's cheek even as his other hand kept searching for injuries. There were far too many for Ignis' liking, but Gladio was alive and he would do his damnedest to keep him that way.

He dropped his hand and fumbled around, looking for a potion of any sort. Only time would fully heal Gladio, but a potion could ease his pain and start the process... but they'd have to get his arm taken care of before it healed wrong.

"... the sun. It's up."

Pointless words, but for someone that had survived a decade in a world of endless night, they were the most beautiful words... at least, until one realized what that meant.

Gladio could barely even feel the hand searching for injuries, not when Ignis' laugh was in his ears and his hand cupping his cheek, smudging dirt and blood. Then, those four precious, horrible words.

Gladio's head very slowly tilted so he could look past Ignis leaning over him to the brilliance of the sky over their heads. It was so achingly blue, like the color of-

"Noct." A whispered word with fear, a sound so rare to his voice, knowing what that had to mean. So he struggled, trying to sit up, but a ragged pained sound left him as he disturbed his shoulder, but that didn't seem to be stopping him. Noct. They had to- they had to get to him-

He heard that fear there and it made him feel sick. Gladio knew what the cost of that precious light was, as did Ignis. There was no effort to stop Gladio when he started to rise. He wouldn't dare. Instead, Ignis did his best to help him, hissing as sliding an arm under that bad shoulder made his own rent flesh pull until he could feel fresh blood ooze free.

It didn't matter. He'd survived. They'd survived. That was nothing.

"Prompto's gone ahead. I had to... find you. First."

For once, he'd been selfish.

They would have to switch before Gladio could take more than a step, putting Ignis under his better shoulder because any motion of that bad shoulder almost blacked him out. His arm tightened around Ignis, his gaze focused entirely on the rise of the Citadel as his stomach churned with swallowed blood and absolute nausea. "...glad." Whispered, because he needed to be there. He needed to know what they were going to find.

He knew what they were going to find, and he knew already he wasn't prepared for it. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Slowly, between Ignis' horribly torn thigh, his ribs and shoulder threatening to pull him under, they made their way up through the Citadel, Gladio's arm dangling uselessly at his side.

What they saw he never would have expected in a million years.

There was Noct, beautiful and handsome, his head bowed as he sat on the throne of Lucis, with his father's blade through the middle of him so deep he looked pinned like a butterfly. What he wasn't expecting was Prompto there, desperately trying to pull the blade out like his life depended on it.

"Prom, what in the hells-?" Gladio started, but stopped when Prompto looked over at him, eyes terribly wide.

"He's alive! HELP ME."

Ignis went stiff at Prompto's desperate words. Breath harsh in his throat, he didn't even take a moment to ask what Gladio saw (which was habit by now). There was no hesitation as he pressed forward, teeth gritted over the fresh wash of pain that came from extra weight on a badly torn up thigh. He knew that Gladio wouldn't let him fall, even in this situation.

"... wait. Wait. Don't disturb him. Give me a moment..."

It took precious time for Ignis to shuffle them closer, a hand already reaching to help him see what was going on. Gore streaked fingers patted along the King's body until he felt where the blade pinned him to the throne and a lot groan of dismay rolled through Ignis.

"If we pull it free, he could bleed out. We need... are the any potions left? The strongest we can find. We have to be careful."

Gladio didn't. Together, they got across the throne room to their pinned King, the horrible smell of blood that much worse here. How? How could Noct be alive? Gladio had to trust Ignis to stay up briefly as he felt out with his one arm along Noct's neck, then whispered a curse of surprise when he indeed felt a pulse. It was weak, fluttering, but it was there.

"How the hell are we supposed to get that out of him without killing him ourselves!?" Gladio hissed through his teeth, but Prompto was already pulling out what they had left. It was almost nothing. They had all gone out there expecting to die, and it had been a hard, hard won fight just to get to the Citadel. They'd used up so many just trying to stay alive long enough to give Noct the time he needed-

"Wait!" Prompto sucked in a breath, then from the depths of his jacket, pulled out what might be a miracle in this case, pushing it into Ignis' hand. Something not a potion, but light, soft.

A phoenix down. Their very last one.

Ignis knew what it was the moment it was pressed into his hand. There was the briefest sigh of relief, though they were far from secure. What they intended to do would take the most delicate of timing and more strength than he thought they might have at their disposal right then. As bad off as they each were, it would take all three of them to have any chance.

He took just a moment to explain his idea, blade out, someone help hold Noctis in place and the third to administer the phoenix down at precisely the moment the blade slid free of his skin.

"... Gladio. Do you think you can pull him free with my help? That would leave Prompto to catch him and use this precious gift to try and bring him back to us."

"Prom, you hold him. I can get it alone. Iggy, get ready to use that thing." Even with only one arm, Gladio was a formidable man when it came to strength, and he didn't want to risk it even for a second that Noct might fall over and something within him get jostled, the last of whatever was still, impossibly, keeping him alive when they all knew he should be dead.

Prompto nodded and moved, going around them to be on the other side, holding both of Noct's shoulders as carefully as he could without moving him even an inch, but knowing the pull of the sword (which looking at was making him sick or maybe that was the blood loss) was going to jerk him forward. Had to be ready to hold him in place. "All set," he said quietly, but his voice shook.

"On three. One." His fingers curled around the hilt of the sword and he swore that he felt an electric shock go through him, like it was telling him he wasn't worthy. It was disturbingly warm. "Two." He readied himself, bracing a foot against the bottom of the throne."

Three.

Once he knew that Prompto had a good hold on their King, he let himself lean in, both hands flush oh Noct's chest. One sported the soft, vibrant down that was their last chance, the other remained just under the edge of the blade so he could tell the moment it was pulled free.

The countdown made his heart stutter to a stop and time seemed to stretch out around them. They were attempting the impossible. They'd accomplished it before, but this? This was on a whole new level.

Three came after an eternity, but once the blade started to pull free, everything seemed to speed up. He felt Noctis' chest shift as the blade pulled out and before he could even breathe, even think, the phoenix down was crushed and the fiery magic pressed hard into the King's chest.

Ignis wasn't one to pray, but he did as his heart started beating again. If there was any justice left in the world, Noctis would breathe again. He would open his eyes again, because damn it one, someone's already paid that price.

The sucking sound as the blade pulled out of the King's body was obscene, as Prompto braced all of his remaining strength to keeping Noct in that one spot, as Gladio put all of his remaining strength into one swift, clean pull, as Ignis put all of his remaining faith in the hands of another because there was nothing left to believe in.

It had to be a trick of light and shadow, didn't it? That something that Ignis saw out of the corner of his eye, because of his sight. Right?

Maybe not, because even as Ignis saw the light, it seemed to be coming closer. Right towards his feet. Something was glowing, softly, something that-

Nudged him with a warm, wet nose?

Over time, Ignis had developed a sense for 'light'. It was no real vision of any kind and honestly, dark had been so prevalent for so long that true light was something he never imagined seeing again, just like everything else. This? This was a true light, a beacon in the dark even to a man left blind for over a decade.

A hand dropped down to reach for the light even as he pleaded with it for Noct's sake. They'd all come this far. Noctis had re-lit the sky. He deserved a second chance to live and live for himself, and not everyone else as he'd been groomed to do all his life. His last prayer was a single word and one he wasn't sure that ever even passed his lips.

-please.

His fingers found something... soft? Something warm and soft, something that pressed into his hand. There was a sound, almost like a chirp, a croon, before the light moved away from his hand and to where Noct was. It moved upwards, most likely up along his body, then seemed to still somewhere just about eye level with Ignis... on Noct's shoulders?

Then the light shattered into a hundred blue glowing orbs, and those orbs spread out before slamming home into Noct's chest-

There was the harshest of breathes that tried to become a scream, but it couldn't happen. Noct's body jerked like a fish on a string, but it all came from his upper body, his arms, his head, and the rest of him seemed to do no more than flop like a fish.

"Noct!"

"Noct!"

Prompto and Gladio, almost on top of each other, both moving to try and hold Noct more firmly in place.

Ignis stayed where he was, both hands up on his King now. They sought to steady him as best they could while trying to keep out of his companions way. For all their yelling, he was murmuring to Noctis, like he had when they were young and he would do what he could to ease the then young prince from a nightmare. He was just as powerless as he had been just moments ago, but now, he knew there was hope. Maybe just a shred of it, but in the past, that had been all they'd needed.

"Noctis. We're here."

He couldn't hear, he couldn't see, he couldn't feel. All he could do was be. It had him in a blind panic because this was very different than moments before. The last thing he could remember was looking up at the ghost of his father, begging him to finish this, then the terrible cold pain of metal in his chest and the burst of raw power- the beyond. The feeling of everyone behind him.

Darkness.

A very different darkness than this.

His body was responding to his panic, but Gladio and Prompto were doing their body to hold him in place. For Noctis, it started to return slowly, so slowly, as static hissing in his ears. The sound was enough to make him realize something was happening, changing, but what? Where was he? Was this... death?

Another gasp of air, then a spasm in his chest that turned into a horrible coughing, blood leaving his lips, but it was all what he had inhaled before his death.

"What's going on!?" Prompto asked, fear of what he was seeing heavy in his voice.

"He was just about dead ten seconds ago, how the fuck should I know?!" Gladio snapped, swaying slightly on his feet.

Ignis was quick to move, pulling away from Noctis even as he reached to find Gladio. A quick pat on that strong arm told him he'd found his partner so he tugged to catch his attention even as he turned his head to find Prompto.

"Is there somewhere we can lay him down? On his side, preferably. It sounds like he's trying to clear his lungs?"

He'd move him himself but one, he could see a spot to do so and two, there was no way he'd be strong enough to get him away from his fellow survivors.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on Prompto, help me." Gladio couldn't hold Noct stable even if he could have picked any of them up single handedly, so it took the pair of them to get Noct to the floor.

But something really bothered him about it. Noct's body wasn't... acting right. He couldn't put his finger on it but right now, trying to help their friend get his lungs clear was more important. Prompto was already there, kneeling with Noct's head in his lap as they kept him on his side, letting his friend cough out the terrible liquid out of his lungs.

Gladio watched, frowning hard. He looked to Ignis as Prompto stroked back Noct's hair, speaking quietly, "...Iggy... we know... we knew for years how this would end. What in the hells is going on?"

There was no mistaking that Ignis was listening in as keenly as he could manage to Noctis and his coughing, but Gladio's voice tugged at his attention so he stepped away from where Prompto was settled and back to Gladio's side.

He didn't look happy.

"... I don't know. None of us should've made it, least of all Noct. There's no doubt that he was the Chosen King, but... maybe the Six isn't done with us yet."

There was dread in his voice at that. Hadn't they suffered enough?

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