[There's the briefest pause, then Albert's arms wrap around Ignis in return, holding on more tightly than he thinks he's ever held anyone. His head rests on Ignis' shoulder, and his lips graze his neck as he speaks quietly.]
I don't know where to begin. I'm... fine, though. I'm fine.
[He doesn't sound convinced of that, but at the same time he means it. He's happy William and Louis are here, whatever the truth is of their arrival and whatever came before. Yet when he finally came out of his fugue and his bed to check his phone, all he wanted to do was be in Ignis' presence, and in his arms. Perhaps that's half the guilt.]
My brothers arrived shortly after we went to the Gardens together.
[ is he? ignis is quiet as he absorbs what he says, concern brimming through the bond that they share. he's holding him tight, feeling those lips against his neck. he doesn't like that he can't see his face, and so he gives him a moment before he shifts in albert's arms, moving only so that he can look him square in the eyes, an arm still possessively wrapped around him.
ignis is not a needy man -- it's simply that albert's mood fluctuations have snagged his attention. grasping his chin to make sure he's looking right at him, ignis' gaze is intent, searching. something doesn't add up, the emotion in their bond, the wild fluctuations, and the times he's certain that albert is having sex, that unbounded joy, the intensity of pleasure...
ignis remembers albert's deep love for them, but could it be... ]
[He wants to be fine. Here, with Ignis, he's more than fine, he swears.
His eyes readily meet those of his lover, and he smiles faintly, like he was prone to doing when they first met. Before things became this. Arms still around Ignis, he moves to lean in for a kiss, but it's ill timed and his movement is arrested by one perfect, firmly guiding hand.]
I believe so, yes. He's... not someone I want much to do with, for various reasons. Not yet.
[Because what he's gathered by now is what hurts the most, what drove him to obsess beyond the reunion, to try to draw everything out despite seeing the pain in their eyes.]
Is... anyone from your world from a different time, Ignis? That is, people who know things that haven't come to pass for you.
[ that doesn't explain the fact that he's been having really intense sex -- but ignis will set that aside for the moment in lieu of something far more distracting. he knows albert doesn't intend for it, but the question hits hard.
that question and its answer has haunted him ever since he came and gladio, cor, even prompto and aranea had looked at him like... well. like they were expecting him to be the him from their time. he frowns, unable to help the tension in his shoulders and the grim dread that rises to the fore. ]
My brothers-in-arms, and friends -- they are all from farther in the timeline than I am.
[ and something terrible happens to ignis. he closes his eyes briefly, then looks back at him, understanding albert now. he's endured it, the things they tried to hide from him. ] Are you wondering why they're keeping things from you?
[The obvious reaction hits Albert so hard he blinks blankly at Ignis, brow furrowing from neutrality as a little more life comes to his eyes.
So it's happened to Ignis, too. People know things, terrible things, and perhaps like Albert he wonders what he could have done to change it, or what he might have done differently... If he'll ever know that future they fear and have lived.
It hits him, and it hurts him enough that one hand reaches up to brush Ignis' cheek in honest, obvious sorrow. Somehow knowing their experience is somewhat shared lifts him from feeling dead to feeling like he desperately needs to protect and cherish the man in front of him. This place may be temporary, their time together may be fleeting, but Ignis deserves...]
Darling Ignis. [He says it with ease, like sliding back into a favorite song.] I know why they're keeping some of it from me, and can guess at the rest, in all honesty.
[It aches. His chest aches. His mind is dull and his senses are trying to focus on Ignis alone, but an anxiety he hasn't felt since he was a child is simmering, waiting to boil.]
I need to tell you everything, and not for the reasons I'd liked to. I wanted to come to you on my own terms and tell you when you needed to know, but now I... [He glances down to Ignis' lips, then back up to his eyes.] I feel like doing anything less is lying to you. All this time has taught me was how much I needed to find someone like you. I dare not spend another day without you knowing the real me.
[And as he said before, if Ignis turns his back because of this, so be it. It's his right. It's only fair for him to have the opportunity.]
[ he can feel it even more vividly now, the sheer breadth of albert's reaction to him, his feelings stirring in the profound strength of their bond. how it seems like their connection has been slowly but steadily growing. he leans into his hand without a word, shifting to press a soft kiss to the center of his palm just because he can.
he can feel it, that heartache, the anxiety that is brimming inside of him, and ignis focuses on him as albert's soft, quiet words come forth. he has always known that albert has secrets of his own, dark ones, but ignis hasn't seen fit to pry or to haul it out of him until he's ready.
and here and now, it seems like he is. ]
Of course.
[ he says quietly, looking back at him, his gaze quietly searching. ] I will listen to everything you have to say.
[Relief and worry intermingle on Albert's face, and he strokes that beloved cheek one more time before reaching for Ignis' hand. This hand, gentle and strong in equal measure, may never hold his again. It may never caress his skin or soothe his worries again.
This is a risk. A horrific one. He may lose everything. But better he lose it now, when his heart is already aching, than to lose it when he feels secure and content.]
We should sit. This may take some time, and you may have questions. I'll answer anything you ask.
[ ignis' brows knit at those words, but he takes albert's hand when he reaches out for him, squeezing it to lead him to the couch. he settles in with him, but makes sure to pull albert close to him. ]
Why don't you start with the most pressing thing you wish to tell me about first?
[He follows, sitting close by Ignis, a hand resting on one of his thighs. The synchrony happens as it always does, and the feeling soothes Albert just a little.]
The most pressing thing...
[He thinks for several long moments. Is it... what he has done to wrong the world? What fate awaits his only family? He can't begin to enumerate every last secret. So he'll start with the part some people here seem to know about.
James Moriarty.]
My brothers and I... most notably William and myself, have been acting as vigilantes of sorts for nearly as long as we've known each other. We are, collectively, James Moriarty, the "Lord of Crime" who terrorizes corrupt nobles across Britain.
[He pauses, feeling ill, his face pale and his stomach churning. It's terrible to admit any of this.]
I... am the financier, the face of sorts, and the most highly trained among us. No one knows our identity who is not in our confidence. Not yet, in my time.
[A breath.]
I've killed more men than I dare admit. Blackmailed and otherwise orchestrated the downfall of others. I'm far from a good man.
[ ...well, that definitely isn't what he's expecting.
albert's confession is a startling revelation. what he's truly doing, the depth of his actions and his crimes. vigilantes, terrorising corrupt nobles across the country he loves. ignis remembers just how passionate albert is for the less-fortunate, his heart for equality, that barely concealed dislike for the crown that he serves.
it ties in, but it's no less surprising. he watches the sickened expression on albert's face and realises one thing: this is a man bent on idealism, on the absolutes of humanity, good and bad, with no room for grey.
he's silent for a long moment, calculating his response, the weight of that confession. ]
All these men. Were they all men that were doing harm to others?
[His fingers curl on Ignis' thigh, the tension in his body threatening to make him sick. He can practically taste the bile rising into his throat.]
All of them. They tortured people, murdered them, destroyed innocent lives because they saw them as less than themselves. William always thought he could change the world, and I believed in it. In him. So...
[The first time. He suddenly remembers the first time, something he hasn't thought about since he arrived. God, but Ignis doesn't deserve such a horrible man as himself.
And yet...]
We took revenge, for those who couldn't. Men, women, even children who never deserved to die. We spoke for the voiceless. We never thought what we did was righteous, or justice. But we did it. And... [He takes a deep breath. The words come out slowly, small, hollow.]
I think what my brothers aren't telling me in so many words is... that we were exposed, somehow. And that William died.
[ ignis considers his answer -- to be honest, ignis cannot find anything wrong with what they're doing. that they've become vigilantes means that the system they're in has failed them. no one wakes up and decides that they're going to kill people one day.
no, there's something that runs much deeper here. and worse, that all of these deeds are weighing heavily on him. the fact that albert looks so sick to his stomach, so vulnerable, makes ignis' heart ache. it means he feels guilt for it, it means this is tearing down that goodness inside of him, piece by piece.
ignis is quiet as he looks at him with a new light -- here is a man so attuned to his own morals and principles that he cannot forgive himself for doing what is necessary. ignis, who has witnessed even greater evil and greed, who is part of a kingdom betrayed, sees something different in what albert confesses. he sees the pain, too, the heartache and grief of losing someone in the future, and he frowns as he pulls him into his arms.
he doesn't let him escape, tugging him onto his lap so that he can look into his eyes. ]
What you did was necessary. It seems the system in your home has failed you, and you did what desperate, good men do: you took matters in your own hands because no one else would. Or could.
[ ignis' words are steel, filled with certainty of purpose. but it is also balanced with compassion and empathy, because he understands why it would be wrong, too. systems were created to work, not create vigilantes. he exhales a soft sigh now, understanding his pain, his grief. noctis will die, too, and ignis knows the pain he feels right to his core. ]
[Albert's heart feels wrung out, his chest aches and his stomach wants so badly to betray him... but here is Ignis, beautiful, glorious Ignis, who sees him. Who sees that the only way was their way. It's something Albert couldn't even admit to himself here, something he railed against in secret, in trying to be sure his past never haunted him here.
What they did... was necessary. Some of the people he killed may not have killed others. Some of them were merely rotten to the core, lacking principles and ideals. They were bodies to count, people to be sacrificed in the name of William's new world.
And Albert, after endless hours with his brothers, after the anguish of knowing they couldn't put tragedy to words, after realizing that the end they saw was the only possible end...
Breaks.
He looks to Ignis, examining those eyes for pity, for disdain, and he finds neither. He finds concern, support, belief. The steel in his words and the velvet in his embrace hit Albert with equal force, and all he can do as he curls close on his lover's lap and presses his face to his neck is try to stop the tears from being so abundant.
He wants to scream. He wants to wail and fight and mourn the loss of the first person he ever loved, who is here, who is his still, who holds a sway over him unlike any other. He wants to destroy whatever brought them to light, even if it was inevitable.
He wants to take every ounce of the blame from William and die in his place.
And that... is terrifying suddenly. To love so intensely that he would die for him, to love so intensely that he would live... That's the love he has for William, and for Louis. It isn't always a pure and beautiful thing, but it occupies Albert's heart and mind so fully that he can't actually keep from crumbling when faced with reality. He knows himself. He knows he must've done something terrible and been killed or locked away himself, as he'd long intended.
Now, here, he wants a chance to atone. To forget that he shed the first blood. That he spilled the blood that forged their bond. Burned the house that scarred Louis. Bargained with the man who would save William's soul. That he failed them in every way is so obvious; but what if he doesn't fail them here? What if redemption is real, and the path forward is laid at his feet?
Clinging to the front of Ignis' shirt with two tightly fisted hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, Albert keeps his face hidden from Ignis.
This man... if Albert was destined for hell, here is the last angel sent to show him mercy.]
[ ignis' arms wind around him. it's clearly too long in the making, too long that albert has to bear this burden and then some. he can feel it, the powerful burn of that intense love, like fire that would scorch him from the inside out. ignis recognises that kind of love and the grief and heartbreak that accompanies it. after all, albert is only human -- and he's clearly reached his limit.
he absorbs albert's moods, the feelings that resonate in their bond so powerfully that he forgets to breathe for a moment, reaching out with his own serenity, to let him know that he's here. he focuses on albert's roiling emotions, feeling them for himself but letting him know, too, that he's not alone as he strokes his hair and presses his lips to the crown of his head.
he lets him break in his arms, the hot burn of tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and ignis lets him cry it out. the intensity of albert's emotions is overwhelming, enthralling, but ignis takes it all as he continues to hold his lover, to let him cry it out. his fingers come to curl in his hair, stroking him through his breakdown.
[This is a pain over a decade in the making, a pain that Albert has felt since he realized he was different, not like his wretched family. The pain of being kind in an unkind world, of being gentle with no way to remain such. The first few times he killed were so terrible, and each is seared into his mind. The fact that it got easier, that he became numb, is what he grieves now, too, as he feels the warmth and serene understanding coming from Ignis. Their bond that had dulled over the last few days of Albert's hiding flares to life, passion and grief, acceptance and sorrow.
If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
[ it's almost absurd, how after all this albert would demonstrate such care for his clothes, and it occurs to him that this is truly the man albert is underneath all of that slick charm, his sharp, witty words or the glimpse of the darkness he sees in him. albert is soft and gentle, too kind to be in a world that is anything but. that kindness had manifested in something dark, something fierce that now weighs on albert, and he can't help but squeeze him in turn, closing his eyes briefly.
goodness. the things albert had been made to do because there was no other way forward for him...
he can't help but muster a small smile when he finds him smoothing his fingers over the patch of wet cloth, searing onto his skin. this is demonstrably proof that albert has let him in, that he's showing him that side of himself that ignis knows he rarely shows to others. here he is in all of his vulnerability, fragile and having taken such a bold risk.
did he think that ignis will turn from him? he knows albert must have feared that, he had picked up on it now and then, too subtle for him to be certain before. and yet now...
he can't help a surge of warm affection for him, of understanding even as he digests everything that albert has done, the man that he is. he cups his face to wipe his tears away from those lovely cheeks, and he leans forward to kiss him, stealing whatever words he has away from his lips. to be trusted like this, to have this man mind him despite the pain and grief he feels -- what an incredible, inexplicable man. ]
[To Albert, it is Ignis who is incredible, full of understanding and grace, overflowing with concern and a delicate affection so unlike the other love in Albert's life. This... he has to call it that, now. In his heart, he felt intense longing for this man while they were apart, even in the depths of confusion and sorrow and a passionate reunion. This is a man he wants to show to his family, to let the immovable Moriarty judgement be found in his favor. He wants William to respect this man, and Louis so embrace him. He wants Moran to watch over him. He would make a deal with the devil all over again, but this time he knows he won't have to.
Ignis, he's certain, has many faults and flaws he still isn't aware of, darkness and pain and his own veiled passion. But Albert, rather than fearing its discovery, finds it glorious. Ignis is human. Ignis sees things from a practical perspective. Ignis will not so easily cast him aside for this sin.
Ignis is his, if only a little, and he rejoices in it as they kiss, as he's held and soothed and put gently back together again.
He kisses with slow, burning passion, with apology for half truths and promises to be the man Ignis believes him to be. To follow his ideals to the end. To help others, as is his duty and privilege. To even try to see the shades of gray that Ignis so clearly can.
Hands coming to rest on his lover's shoulders, then the sides of his neck, Albert gently takes and claims in this kiss, sealing a bargain only with himself that should he become worthy of this man's affection, he would give him the world.
Murmured between breaths, slow and steady and true, like the time they danced, like the first time he tasted Ignis' Yorkshire pudding, are words he never thought he'd utter to anyone outside of the Moriarty circle.]
[ perhaps in time, ignis will reveal more of himself to him. he is just as flawed, with his own darkness and secrets, the things albert will have to accept about him. ignis understands albert because he exists in shades of grey, made to do things that his king cannot (and will not) do. but now is not the time for his own secrets, his vulnerabilities and his own fears and anxieties, even if he knows albert has glimpsed them from time to time, accepting whatever little fragment that ignis shows him.
he takes in the great overflow of feelings and emotions, the churning passion and the way albert feels so intensely that it makes him ache, captivates him and stuns him both. how is he to react when he feels him in all his entirety, so genuine and so full of emotion that ignis doesn't quite know what to do with it? he kisses him back, again and again, allowing albert to take and claim, wanting to comfort him as best he knows how.
he thinks of all the time they've spent together in here, the encounters that move him, make him want more, so much so that parting is sweet sorrow, and his eyes widen when the kiss ends and he murmurs soft, honest words. ignis believes them because it's all he can feel from albert, his heart pounding in his chest.
i love you.
what small, powerful words, bigger than the space they occupy, the intent behind them. he presses his forehead to his, trying to wrap his mind around the truth of them. ]
[This place will steal everything from everyone in time, and Albert has never been the sort to wait for things he wants. He is still too passionately charging through this damnable place, this precious place, but he's no fool.
He tips his head so their noses brush ever so briefly, then shifts so it's just their foreheads again. Raising a hand, he places his index finger over Ignis' lips to silence him, his own eyes sliding closed.
This is his moment, his honesty, and he doesn't need anything in return. He never has, with anyone. He never demanded anything from William but the revolution he always wanted. He asked nothing of Louis but for his health and happiness.
So too does he feel for this man, selfishly wishing him happiness and peace, large kitchens and good wine and abundant opportunties. His love has never been offered out of vanity, but out of passion and respect, born of the same ideals that cause his pain.
With that, he invites Ignis in. Into the very blackest depths of his charred soul. No one could love that, but what love he can wring out of it, he gives to those who earn it.
His finger drops away from Ignis' lips, and he strokes his cheek ever so gently, emotionally spent and having given all he could, for now.]
[ surely, he must feel it -- the sheer depth of passion that ignis has for albert, the ferocity of the feelings that he has for him. surely, he must know, too, that ignis has fallen in love with him. but he is silenced, and perhaps for good reason; this isn't the place that ignis wants albert to remember that he says it for the first time.
this isn't the moment, too, not when there is an easy suspicion that he's only saying it back just because. no, this is far more important than that -- he doesn't want the first time albert hears those words to be tied to a memory of grief and heartache and pain.
and so he keeps quiet for now, seeking him out and taking his invite with all his heart. they both know, too, that fairytales are for children -- there is no such thing as a happy ending or a lasting happiness. they all take what they can get, and they roll with the punches until they don't. he can feel albert's feelings for him, how albert gives and gives and gives until there's nothing left, and he stills the kiss, moving to look at him squarely in the eyes. ]
Let me take care of you tonight.
[ he says softly. it's time for him to stop giving, to be loved and sheltered and treasured. ]
Lose yourself in me, and think about nothing else. You're the only one that matters right now.
[It he is to hear it, he wants to hear it when he is at his best, something to marveled at and proud of and beloved, the way Ignis is right now. He adored this man from the beginning for so many reasons, but now love has taken anchor and he's completly prepared to devote himself.
He closes his eyes and simply absorbs the love and care he's given, the warmth of their connection soothing.]
I would love nothing more than to be put back together by you. My dearest Ignis.
[ he smiles then, nuzzling into him before he gently tugs on the scarf albert wears to loosen and free him from it -- how strange, he's never been one for them.
it has been quite the session, and goodness knows albert needs a break. ]
Be careful what you wish for. The last time this happened, you barely slept the entire night.
[Ah, the scarf. Albert knows Ignis will figure things out sooner or later, so he doesn't protest its removal. Beneath are marks and bruises large and small, some fresher than others, all of... obvious origin. There will be other bruises and marks elsewhere. He'll see them.
All he can do is smile sadly and hope he isn't judged too terribly for it. If Ignis asks, he'll answer. He said he would.
He's gone from bouts of barely sleeping to excessive sleeping over the past few days, too. He hopes to God that Ignis really will put him back together.
Reaching for Ignis' hand, he raises it to his lips, pressing kisses to his fingertips. It is perhaps more adoring than sensual, but he closes his eyes and simply takes Ignis in, their shared warmth his solace.]
[ those are lovebites, possessive marks, and he's pretty sure those are outlines of fingers, which tells him a lot. but they are fresh, and it doesn't take much for him to try and put it together. the most obvious scenario is taboo, but ignis can't shake it off, not when he can feel albert's emotions with such clarity. ]
These marks... who made them?
[ ignis is not a jealous man, not really, but they are too purposeful to be careless -- he recognises the intent of them in a heartbeat, to mark and claim. he doesn't draw his hand away from those soft lips; in fact, he curls his fingers around his, openly curious. clearly, albert likes it rough, too. very rough. ]
[The most obvious scenario is the correct one, and Albert does have the presence of mind to be slightly shamefaced at his response. He knows it's taboo, of course. He knows better than anyone.]
...William, primarily.
[The rest of the story becomes important now, the secrets Albert should take to his grave, but that Ignis' eyes are going to ask.]
They're... not really my brothers. Not by birth. They're adopted. And William isn't his real name.
[He looks down, anywhere but at Ignis.]
I didn't tell you everything. I wasn't sure how. If I tell you how we came to be brothers, you may look at me less kindly.
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no subject
I don't know where to begin. I'm... fine, though. I'm fine.
[He doesn't sound convinced of that, but at the same time he means it. He's happy William and Louis are here, whatever the truth is of their arrival and whatever came before. Yet when he finally came out of his fugue and his bed to check his phone, all he wanted to do was be in Ignis' presence, and in his arms. Perhaps that's half the guilt.]
My brothers arrived shortly after we went to the Gardens together.
no subject
ignis is not a needy man -- it's simply that albert's mood fluctuations have snagged his attention. grasping his chin to make sure he's looking right at him, ignis' gaze is intent, searching. something doesn't add up, the emotion in their bond, the wild fluctuations, and the times he's certain that albert is having sex, that unbounded joy, the intensity of pleasure...
ignis remembers albert's deep love for them, but could it be... ]
Your brothers...? Was there anyone else?
no subject
His eyes readily meet those of his lover, and he smiles faintly, like he was prone to doing when they first met. Before things became this. Arms still around Ignis, he moves to lean in for a kiss, but it's ill timed and his movement is arrested by one perfect, firmly guiding hand.]
I believe so, yes. He's... not someone I want much to do with, for various reasons. Not yet.
[Because what he's gathered by now is what hurts the most, what drove him to obsess beyond the reunion, to try to draw everything out despite seeing the pain in their eyes.]
Is... anyone from your world from a different time, Ignis? That is, people who know things that haven't come to pass for you.
no subject
that question and its answer has haunted him ever since he came and gladio, cor, even prompto and aranea had looked at him like... well. like they were expecting him to be the him from their time. he frowns, unable to help the tension in his shoulders and the grim dread that rises to the fore. ]
My brothers-in-arms, and friends -- they are all from farther in the timeline than I am.
[ and something terrible happens to ignis. he closes his eyes briefly, then looks back at him, understanding albert now. he's endured it, the things they tried to hide from him. ] Are you wondering why they're keeping things from you?
no subject
So it's happened to Ignis, too. People know things, terrible things, and perhaps like Albert he wonders what he could have done to change it, or what he might have done differently... If he'll ever know that future they fear and have lived.
It hits him, and it hurts him enough that one hand reaches up to brush Ignis' cheek in honest, obvious sorrow. Somehow knowing their experience is somewhat shared lifts him from feeling dead to feeling like he desperately needs to protect and cherish the man in front of him. This place may be temporary, their time together may be fleeting, but Ignis deserves...]
Darling Ignis. [He says it with ease, like sliding back into a favorite song.] I know why they're keeping some of it from me, and can guess at the rest, in all honesty.
[It aches. His chest aches. His mind is dull and his senses are trying to focus on Ignis alone, but an anxiety he hasn't felt since he was a child is simmering, waiting to boil.]
I need to tell you everything, and not for the reasons I'd liked to. I wanted to come to you on my own terms and tell you when you needed to know, but now I... [He glances down to Ignis' lips, then back up to his eyes.] I feel like doing anything less is lying to you. All this time has taught me was how much I needed to find someone like you. I dare not spend another day without you knowing the real me.
[And as he said before, if Ignis turns his back because of this, so be it. It's his right. It's only fair for him to have the opportunity.]
no subject
he can feel it, that heartache, the anxiety that is brimming inside of him, and ignis focuses on him as albert's soft, quiet words come forth. he has always known that albert has secrets of his own, dark ones, but ignis hasn't seen fit to pry or to haul it out of him until he's ready.
and here and now, it seems like he is. ]
Of course.
[ he says quietly, looking back at him, his gaze quietly searching. ] I will listen to everything you have to say.
no subject
This is a risk. A horrific one. He may lose everything. But better he lose it now, when his heart is already aching, than to lose it when he feels secure and content.]
We should sit. This may take some time, and you may have questions. I'll answer anything you ask.
no subject
Why don't you start with the most pressing thing you wish to tell me about first?
no subject
The most pressing thing...
[He thinks for several long moments. Is it... what he has done to wrong the world? What fate awaits his only family? He can't begin to enumerate every last secret. So he'll start with the part some people here seem to know about.
James Moriarty.]
My brothers and I... most notably William and myself, have been acting as vigilantes of sorts for nearly as long as we've known each other. We are, collectively, James Moriarty, the "Lord of Crime" who terrorizes corrupt nobles across Britain.
[He pauses, feeling ill, his face pale and his stomach churning. It's terrible to admit any of this.]
I... am the financier, the face of sorts, and the most highly trained among us. No one knows our identity who is not in our confidence. Not yet, in my time.
[A breath.]
I've killed more men than I dare admit. Blackmailed and otherwise orchestrated the downfall of others. I'm far from a good man.
no subject
albert's confession is a startling revelation. what he's truly doing, the depth of his actions and his crimes. vigilantes, terrorising corrupt nobles across the country he loves. ignis remembers just how passionate albert is for the less-fortunate, his heart for equality, that barely concealed dislike for the crown that he serves.
it ties in, but it's no less surprising. he watches the sickened expression on albert's face and realises one thing: this is a man bent on idealism, on the absolutes of humanity, good and bad, with no room for grey.
he's silent for a long moment, calculating his response, the weight of that confession. ]
All these men. Were they all men that were doing harm to others?
no subject
All of them. They tortured people, murdered them, destroyed innocent lives because they saw them as less than themselves. William always thought he could change the world, and I believed in it. In him. So...
[The first time. He suddenly remembers the first time, something he hasn't thought about since he arrived. God, but Ignis doesn't deserve such a horrible man as himself.
And yet...]
We took revenge, for those who couldn't. Men, women, even children who never deserved to die. We spoke for the voiceless. We never thought what we did was righteous, or justice. But we did it. And... [He takes a deep breath. The words come out slowly, small, hollow.]
I think what my brothers aren't telling me in so many words is... that we were exposed, somehow. And that William died.
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no, there's something that runs much deeper here. and worse, that all of these deeds are weighing heavily on him. the fact that albert looks so sick to his stomach, so vulnerable, makes ignis' heart ache. it means he feels guilt for it, it means this is tearing down that goodness inside of him, piece by piece.
ignis is quiet as he looks at him with a new light -- here is a man so attuned to his own morals and principles that he cannot forgive himself for doing what is necessary. ignis, who has witnessed even greater evil and greed, who is part of a kingdom betrayed, sees something different in what albert confesses. he sees the pain, too, the heartache and grief of losing someone in the future, and he frowns as he pulls him into his arms.
he doesn't let him escape, tugging him onto his lap so that he can look into his eyes. ]
What you did was necessary. It seems the system in your home has failed you, and you did what desperate, good men do: you took matters in your own hands because no one else would. Or could.
[ ignis' words are steel, filled with certainty of purpose. but it is also balanced with compassion and empathy, because he understands why it would be wrong, too. systems were created to work, not create vigilantes. he exhales a soft sigh now, understanding his pain, his grief. noctis will die, too, and ignis knows the pain he feels right to his core. ]
I'm so very sorry, my darling.
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What they did... was necessary. Some of the people he killed may not have killed others. Some of them were merely rotten to the core, lacking principles and ideals. They were bodies to count, people to be sacrificed in the name of William's new world.
And Albert, after endless hours with his brothers, after the anguish of knowing they couldn't put tragedy to words, after realizing that the end they saw was the only possible end...
Breaks.
He looks to Ignis, examining those eyes for pity, for disdain, and he finds neither. He finds concern, support, belief. The steel in his words and the velvet in his embrace hit Albert with equal force, and all he can do as he curls close on his lover's lap and presses his face to his neck is try to stop the tears from being so abundant.
He wants to scream. He wants to wail and fight and mourn the loss of the first person he ever loved, who is here, who is his still, who holds a sway over him unlike any other. He wants to destroy whatever brought them to light, even if it was inevitable.
He wants to take every ounce of the blame from William and die in his place.
And that... is terrifying suddenly. To love so intensely that he would die for him, to love so intensely that he would live... That's the love he has for William, and for Louis. It isn't always a pure and beautiful thing, but it occupies Albert's heart and mind so fully that he can't actually keep from crumbling when faced with reality. He knows himself. He knows he must've done something terrible and been killed or locked away himself, as he'd long intended.
Now, here, he wants a chance to atone. To forget that he shed the first blood. That he spilled the blood that forged their bond. Burned the house that scarred Louis. Bargained with the man who would save William's soul. That he failed them in every way is so obvious; but what if he doesn't fail them here? What if redemption is real, and the path forward is laid at his feet?
Clinging to the front of Ignis' shirt with two tightly fisted hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, Albert keeps his face hidden from Ignis.
This man... if Albert was destined for hell, here is the last angel sent to show him mercy.]
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he absorbs albert's moods, the feelings that resonate in their bond so powerfully that he forgets to breathe for a moment, reaching out with his own serenity, to let him know that he's here. he focuses on albert's roiling emotions, feeling them for himself but letting him know, too, that he's not alone as he strokes his hair and presses his lips to the crown of his head.
he lets him break in his arms, the hot burn of tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt, and ignis lets him cry it out. the intensity of albert's emotions is overwhelming, enthralling, but ignis takes it all as he continues to hold his lover, to let him cry it out. his fingers come to curl in his hair, stroking him through his breakdown.
he's here. he's here for all of him. ]
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If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
Ignis. My darling, dearest Ignis. I...
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goodness. the things albert had been made to do because there was no other way forward for him...
he can't help but muster a small smile when he finds him smoothing his fingers over the patch of wet cloth, searing onto his skin. this is demonstrably proof that albert has let him in, that he's showing him that side of himself that ignis knows he rarely shows to others. here he is in all of his vulnerability, fragile and having taken such a bold risk.
did he think that ignis will turn from him? he knows albert must have feared that, he had picked up on it now and then, too subtle for him to be certain before. and yet now...
he can't help a surge of warm affection for him, of understanding even as he digests everything that albert has done, the man that he is. he cups his face to wipe his tears away from those lovely cheeks, and he leans forward to kiss him, stealing whatever words he has away from his lips. to be trusted like this, to have this man mind him despite the pain and grief he feels -- what an incredible, inexplicable man. ]
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Ignis, he's certain, has many faults and flaws he still isn't aware of, darkness and pain and his own veiled passion. But Albert, rather than fearing its discovery, finds it glorious. Ignis is human. Ignis sees things from a practical perspective. Ignis will not so easily cast him aside for this sin.
Ignis is his, if only a little, and he rejoices in it as they kiss, as he's held and soothed and put gently back together again.
He kisses with slow, burning passion, with apology for half truths and promises to be the man Ignis believes him to be. To follow his ideals to the end. To help others, as is his duty and privilege. To even try to see the shades of gray that Ignis so clearly can.
Hands coming to rest on his lover's shoulders, then the sides of his neck, Albert gently takes and claims in this kiss, sealing a bargain only with himself that should he become worthy of this man's affection, he would give him the world.
Murmured between breaths, slow and steady and true, like the time they danced, like the first time he tasted Ignis' Yorkshire pudding, are words he never thought he'd utter to anyone outside of the Moriarty circle.]
...I love you. Truly.
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he takes in the great overflow of feelings and emotions, the churning passion and the way albert feels so intensely that it makes him ache, captivates him and stuns him both. how is he to react when he feels him in all his entirety, so genuine and so full of emotion that ignis doesn't quite know what to do with it? he kisses him back, again and again, allowing albert to take and claim, wanting to comfort him as best he knows how.
he thinks of all the time they've spent together in here, the encounters that move him, make him want more, so much so that parting is sweet sorrow, and his eyes widen when the kiss ends and he murmurs soft, honest words. ignis believes them because it's all he can feel from albert, his heart pounding in his chest.
i love you.
what small, powerful words, bigger than the space they occupy, the intent behind them. he presses his forehead to his, trying to wrap his mind around the truth of them. ]
Albert --
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He tips his head so their noses brush ever so briefly, then shifts so it's just their foreheads again. Raising a hand, he places his index finger over Ignis' lips to silence him, his own eyes sliding closed.
This is his moment, his honesty, and he doesn't need anything in return. He never has, with anyone. He never demanded anything from William but the revolution he always wanted. He asked nothing of Louis but for his health and happiness.
So too does he feel for this man, selfishly wishing him happiness and peace, large kitchens and good wine and abundant opportunties. His love has never been offered out of vanity, but out of passion and respect, born of the same ideals that cause his pain.
With that, he invites Ignis in. Into the very blackest depths of his charred soul. No one could love that, but what love he can wring out of it, he gives to those who earn it.
His finger drops away from Ignis' lips, and he strokes his cheek ever so gently, emotionally spent and having given all he could, for now.]
You're remarkable. Never stop.
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this isn't the moment, too, not when there is an easy suspicion that he's only saying it back just because. no, this is far more important than that -- he doesn't want the first time albert hears those words to be tied to a memory of grief and heartache and pain.
and so he keeps quiet for now, seeking him out and taking his invite with all his heart. they both know, too, that fairytales are for children -- there is no such thing as a happy ending or a lasting happiness. they all take what they can get, and they roll with the punches until they don't. he can feel albert's feelings for him, how albert gives and gives and gives until there's nothing left, and he stills the kiss, moving to look at him squarely in the eyes. ]
Let me take care of you tonight.
[ he says softly. it's time for him to stop giving, to be loved and sheltered and treasured. ]
Lose yourself in me, and think about nothing else. You're the only one that matters right now.
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He closes his eyes and simply absorbs the love and care he's given, the warmth of their connection soothing.]
I would love nothing more than to be put back together by you. My dearest Ignis.
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it has been quite the session, and goodness knows albert needs a break. ]
Be careful what you wish for. The last time this happened, you barely slept the entire night.
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All he can do is smile sadly and hope he isn't judged too terribly for it. If Ignis asks, he'll answer. He said he would.
He's gone from bouts of barely sleeping to excessive sleeping over the past few days, too. He hopes to God that Ignis really will put him back together.
Reaching for Ignis' hand, he raises it to his lips, pressing kisses to his fingertips. It is perhaps more adoring than sensual, but he closes his eyes and simply takes Ignis in, their shared warmth his solace.]
I don't mind that happening again.
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These marks... who made them?
[ ignis is not a jealous man, not really, but they are too purposeful to be careless -- he recognises the intent of them in a heartbeat, to mark and claim. he doesn't draw his hand away from those soft lips; in fact, he curls his fingers around his, openly curious. clearly, albert likes it rough, too. very rough. ]
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...William, primarily.
[The rest of the story becomes important now, the secrets Albert should take to his grave, but that Ignis' eyes are going to ask.]
They're... not really my brothers. Not by birth. They're adopted. And William isn't his real name.
[He looks down, anywhere but at Ignis.]
I didn't tell you everything. I wasn't sure how. If I tell you how we came to be brothers, you may look at me less kindly.
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