Title: Mending Effort
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Rating: T
Length: 2, 609 words
Content notes: Spoilers up through chapter 14 of Final Fantasy XV
Author notes: n/a
Summary: Ignis is always on-hand to help.

"... Wasn't that button coming loose?"

It wasn't that Prompto exactly meant to make a big deal of it, but he'd found himself noticing that the button was fixed almost without realizing; his general daily view of Noctis had included that button gradually coming loose, something so benign that he hadn't thought to mention it - at least until he noticed the difference. Noctis took a few moments himself to realize what it was that Prompto was talking about in the first place; he looked down to his jacket, thinking briefly before remembering.

"Oh, yeah. Ignis just visited."

The two things did not form an immediate connection in Prompto's mind. He was about to ask, but then realized.

"He fixed it?"

"Yeah, he's always noticing that sort of thing. 'It simply wouldn't do to have the Crown Prince on display in his daily life looking slovenly'... there's always a lecture. I gotta be more careful, I guess."

"Careful with your clothing, or careful to avoid the lectures?"

"Both, obviously...!"

The fact that Ignis would do such a thing made complete sense, but still felt surprising, somehow. Prompto remembered the first time he'd pulled a button on his jacket - he'd felt the pull and noticed it roll off to be able to collect it, fortunately, and had felt slightly at a loss on what to do following that. Obviously, it couldn't be left as it was - he had enough teachers telling him to pull up his tie and do up his shirt without something being obviously missing. He'd kept the button safe until after school, parting from Noctis early to look up on his phone what he would need. On locating the correct items, he'd hurried home to devote some intense study to internet tutorial videos; it was only a button, so how hard could it be? It took longer than expected, but the task had left him with a fixed button he felt he could be relatively proud of.

He pulled up the corner of his jacket to show Noctis, despite that event having been months previous. "Here, I did this one myself a while ago. Got a little messy with the thread, but you can't really tell from the outside, right? Like, if you look really close, it's not exactly the same color thread, but it was as close as I could get. Who's gonna be looking that close, anyway? I think it worked out okay."

"You did that yourself...?"

"Yeah, well, not everyone has an Ignis in their lives...!" Prompto smiled as he spoke, lightly teasing. "I didn't really have a choice. What else was I gonna do, buy a whole new jacket? Not like there was anyone else to ask."

"You could have--" Noctis paused, looking conflicted.

"I could have... what?"

"If I asked Ignis, then... he probably could've..."

Just the thought of it seemed like too much to ask. Despite it being no current threat, Prompto waved his hands around in protest. "What--?! No way--! I mean, it's--... that'd be--... I barely even know the guy, I can't be making work like that for him--!" He gave Noctis a gentle punch on the shoulder. "Sounds like he's got enough to deal with already. Right?"

"It's only a button--!"

"Right, and then what? I think I'm good where I am, honestly..."

It was a small thing, but it at least gave them something to talk about on the morning walk to school; and then came class, and study, and all of the other daily routines that caused such small things to be pushed aside and to the back of one's mind.


-----


The end of the day brought them to another campfire. On some days, Noctis might have complained about camping rather than the other options available to them, but even the nearest motel lay too far to reach before nightfall - and he hadn't seemed to mind the inevitability, sitting by the camp and partaking in the evening meal without a single complaint. There came that stretch between the meal and sleeping - Ignis sat with his coffee, Prompto on his phone, Gladiolus reading a book. Noctis had glanced around to the others before standing up, "I just need to--... you know."

Ignis and Prompto had looked up, but there was nothing unusual about that. Prompto waved a hand, "Have fun out there."

"Be careful, Noct. Night has fallen, after all. A daemon won't hesitate, even if it should catch you in a... compromising position."

"Okay, okay. I'll be fine." He left the campsite, with no further word spoken.

Having been on the road together for some length of time up to that point, there came to be an understanding as to the various habits of those in the party. Leaving the campsite was as normal as anything, but it was soon plainly obvious to the three left remaining that Noctis had been gone for a somewhat unusual length of time. Neither Gladiolus nor Prompto said anything; Prompto's eyes darted from his phone to Ignis, for a moment. They didn't make eye contact, but when Ignis spoke, it came as no surprise.

"... Noct has been gone for a fair length of time, hasn't he?" He spoke lightly, but not quite casually; the implication was clear.

Gladiolus turned a page in his book, not looking up. "Sometimes these things take a while."

"I'm just saying. We should keep our guard up, even so."

"If it was that bad, we'd have heard something. Right? We're all up on these rocks, if it was Imperials or daemons or whatever then I'm pretty sure we'd have seen it from here. Definitely heard it. Pretty quiet out here otherwise, at this time of night."

"... I know."

"If you want to go gatecrash his privacy, you go right on ahead."

"Hm."

Time continued to pass, with nobody moving from their respective positions around the campfire. It was impossible not to be aware of Noctis being absent, and of each second that went by failing to herald his return. Once more, Prompto kept half an eye on Ignis; if anybody was going to say something, then it would most likely be--

"Prompto."

There it was. "Yeah?"

"How about you go after our Highness, just to be sure."

"Why me?"

"... I feel that such behavior might seem more forgivable, coming from you. If some problem has befallen Noct, make sure you shout loudly."

Prompto pocketed his phone, sighing slightly. "Fine..."

Stepping away from the campsite, Prompto felt very aware of how quickly a daemon could appear out of nowhere. (He was mostly confident in his ability to run away should the situation require it, but hoped that it wouldn't come to that.) The campsite itself did offer a decent view of the lower ground surrounding it, but clusters of bushes and trees gathered together provided some cover - for Noctis and for daemons both. Prompto had seen the direction Noctis had headed off in, but where had he gone after that? Prompto shone his attached light around, looking for any sign of Noctis's presence.

"Ow--!"

A sufficient distance from the camp, Prompto turned his head immediately on hearing that sound. It was definitely Noctis, he knew that much. He'd sounded... pained? Prompto approached, wanting to find Noctis quickly, but also mildly apprehensive as to what he would encounter. It didn't sound like there were any daemons nearby, but then what else would cause Noctis pain, off by himself under the cover of dark?

Prompto found him in a small area shrouded by trees, sat on the ground and holding his jacket. He seemed so focused on his task that he didn't notice Prompto nearby; he seemed to be--

"Oh! Are you sewing?"

"AH--!" That question caused a yell of surprise that turned into one of pain; Noctis had clearly not been expecting company, and surprise was a risky emotion to endure while holding a needle. "Prompto--!? What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same thing! By which I mean, you were gone for like, a minute too long, so of course Ignis started to get worried. After all, how many reasons are there why a healthy young man would be spending time by himself, alone in the undergrowth? Must be daemons. ...I wasn't expecting sewing, though. I mean, better sewing than something else, right?"

Noctis ignored the various implications of Prompto's rambling. "Got a tear in my jacket. Ignis mentioned it, maybe a week ago? And I kept thinking, oh, I better do something about that. Gets to a point where you sort of dread every camp because you just know he's gonna say something and if I haven't fixed it yet, it's my fault for not having done so... you know?"

Prompto took up a cross-legged position next to Noctis. "So you've been procrastinating?"

"Just had other things to think about. Tch--"

The tear was fairly minor, but clearly enough for Ignis to have noticed. Noctis had the needle and thread, but it seemed difficult to perform the task with so little light; he couldn't move without it shaking the beam from his attached light, which seemed enough to distract. Noctis seemed to be trying his best, but was perhaps not as dexterous with a needle as he could be. Prompto realized that he hadn't thought of it for a number of years, but suddenly remembered times from their schooldays - fallen buttons, Ignis fixing Noctis's clothes, the offer for him to do the same with Prompto. That all seemed so far away, now - but it brought a smile to Prompto's lips to think of the Noctis who had had Ignis fix his button without a second thought, now trying to do so by himself (and, it seemed, without Ignis himself noticing).

"... Did you want me to help? I could probably manage something like that."

"No, I got this. I can do this. Ah--"

"You sure about that? You do this for much longer, Ignis is gonna come after me for not having brought you back. He'd probably be happy to see you doing this, though...! Couldn't you just do it at camp? Better light back there. Won't get attacked by daemons. Lots of upsides."

"Yeah, but if he sees me doing this, then--... you're right, he'd be glad about it, but he'd say something about it, and I'd rather just... if I can fix it and just have him notice I fixed it, that'd be enough. If I do this at camp then he's just gonna hover, and it's hard to get anything done like that. When else am I meant to be able to get this done?"

"... Do you want me to hold the light, at least? I got mine, I can hold yours, that might make it easier for you to see."

Noctis looked from his jacket up to Prompto, and seemed to visibly relent. He unclipped his light, handing it across. "Sure. That seems like it could work."

The end result was surprisingly neat, given the circumstances. Watching him work, Prompto wondered if Noctis had developed his technique under tutelage of Ignis, or whether he'd gone the internet tutorial route too. Either way, he seemed to have remembered enough to apply it in a practical manner; they were gone for long enough that Prompto was surprised that Ignis hadn't come after them, but the accomplished smile that Noctis gave afterward made it all worth it.


-----


"... Did you wish for me to help with any of that?"

It had been long enough that Prompto wished he could stop the catch in his breath on being asked any such question, but he hadn't found any way round that to date. Ignis was turned towards him, smiling as kindly as he ever did; Prompto smiled in response, trying to downplay his reply.

"Nah, it's fine. Just gotta, you know, fix up some things. You got anything needing doing? I might as well do it now, while I'm doing all these others."

"I can't think of anything currently. I'll let you know if something comes to mind."

With things as they were, it was easy to get distracted. Daily hunts under the darkened skies took their toll, mentally and physically - and all it took was an errant claw or a too-close call with a blade, and that was another set of clothes that needed mending. The look of a garment was maybe no longer the priority it once was, but it was still worth tending to them to ensure protection from the elements. Without intending it to, Prompto found himself falling into a kind of habit - he'd meet with Ignis, and he would set about sewing and patching that that needed sewn and patched.

Prompto would worry, sometimes, for the silence between them. It didn't feel uncomfortable, however; maybe there were many things to say or maybe there was nothing to say, anymore, and either option had its place. Prompto was busy with hunts, and Ignis had taken up researching the Royal Tombs - an endeavor that often took him far and wide across the continent, despite the dangers that now presented themselves. It felt like the opportunities they had to even come across one another's presence were lessening, and so these small quiet moments felt precious, somehow.

"You always were quite adept with such things. Is there much to get through?"

"Not all that much. Got a couple of tears, some frayed edges... if you come across any socks on your travels, maybe let me know, though. You can never have too many socks." Prompto turned over the jacket he was tending to, to inspect his stitching. "I feel so old, saying something like that. Since when did I care about socks?!"

"It's important to maintain a routine - any outfit is only the sum of its parts, after all. And of course, discomfort can quite easily lead to injury - you know just as well as I do, how quick you need to be on your feet to evade some of those daemons. ...I don't need to remind you of such things, of course."

"Always good to be reminded...! Better to be reminded than to forget."

Once more, a silence fell between them. When Ignis did speak again, his tone was noticeably more tender than before.

"... I remember being surprised, back then."

"Mm?"

"I think I made some unfair assumptions of you. I was--... I was so used to dealing with Noct, it was almost something of a novelty. Imagine - a teenage boy who could sew on a button! Practically a miracle, to my mind."

"Yeah, well. You end up picking these things up along the way." Prompto was powerless against the pull of nostalgia. "He did try, though."

"He did. No, you're right. He could be quite capable, when he put his mind to it."

Again, Prompto wished that he could participate in these conversations without the force of emotion preventing him from doing so. Ignis could mention Noctis so often, so easily, and Prompto wondered what it would take to be able to respond in kind. Those comments - small, nostalgic, inconsequential - would set his mind racing, knowing that the silence was too long as he wondered if this was the place for a teasing remark, or something heartfelt, or--... or what? It was impossible to know, and so many of those conversations would fall to that indecision, with Ignis then tactfully changing the subject.