Title: Day By Day
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Characters/Pairing: Cor Leonis/Ignis Scientia
Rating: PG13
Length: 5, 889 words
Warning: Spoilers for the second half/ending of the game
Summary: With time enough for everything, Cor and Ignis are able to find understanding in each other.

"The first crops were gathered, today."

"Oh, that's excellent news...! And how is the yield?"

Cor glanced down to the bag at the side of his chair, nudging it open to help inform his opinion. "I'm not the best person to ask about these things, but everyone seemed positive about it. If anything can grow at all, it's a sign that the soil isn't completely ruined - so if we just continue to tend to the crops, we should be able to get somewhere. So they say, at least. All I did was dig."

Ignis smiled, settling back in his seat. "I'm sure your contribution was appreciated, all the same."

"Mm. In any case, I brought some with me - thought it'd be best if you judged them for yourself. They were all excited, giving this to me - 'Ignis will know what to do with these!' Sounds like they think pretty highly of your sense of taste. Can't say I blame them."

"Of course. Well, I'd be delighted...! Would you like to accompany me?" (Ignis was already getting up from his seat.)

"If you want me to. ...Where are we going?"

"Just to the kitchens, downstairs. Those would be suitable, don't you think?"

"Oh, they're up and running? That's good to know."

"It almost feels too indulgent, powering the Citadel, doesn't it? But, reconstruction of the city starts with what we can manage. The women from Exineris assure me that the wiring is in surprisingly good working order, all things considered. I believe Gladio told me that the lights were still on here as we approached under the darkness, apparently. Streetlights and crossing signals, offering what they could against the dark. If nothing else, that shows that they were built to last, don't you think? For all of the damage the city sustained, these small things survived."

Having picked up the bag of produce, Cor watched as Ignis approached the office door; even now, there was still part of him that wondered should I be helping? but he knew that Ignis would likely not welcome anything he could interpret as being too smothering. He spent his days within the Citadel, and of course, he'd survived the ten years of darkness - Cor felt aware of how little he understood of Ignis's injury, but trusted whatever coping mechanisms he'd developed.

"Are you coming?" Ignis was stood in the doorway now, clearly waiting on Cor.

"Y-yes, of course."


-----


Cor had been a feature of life at the Citadel for as long as Ignis could remember, but he could also recall the first time that they'd really spoken. Car journeys of his youth were often taken with Noctis sat beside him and Cor driving, but also were frequently spent in silence, as Noctis indulged himself in a backseat nap. They had always been cordial to one another, but Ignis remembered his impression of Cor, as a child, as being another one of those adults that seemed to populate Noctis's life.

He'd asked Noctis, once; "What do you think of Cor?"

Noctis had seemed to be confused by the question, his young brow crossed into a frown. "How do you mean...?"

"... Exactly that, I suppose. I was just curious."

"I guess... he's always there? He's always been there." Noctis's expression had burst into a smile, at that point. "Reliable! If someone's always around, then that makes them reliable, right?... Dad would probably know more about that than me, though. He's known Cor a real long time."

"He's somebody that the King relies on, then."

"Seems like it. He's kind of... his face is a bit scary. He kinda looks like he's mad a lot of the time, but I think that's just what he looks like. He doesn't talk a lot, but you can ask him stuff. ...I guess that's what I think of him."

None of Noctis's impressions particularly contradicted any conclusion that Ignis had come to of his own accord, but he had felt compelled to ask, all the same.

The first conversation Ignis could recall between them - the first conversation of any significance, at least - had been with the two of them alone together in the car, something of a rare occurrence. Cor had invited him to sit in the front passenger seat; also an infrequent opportunity. They had driven in silence to the Citadel, and it was only once the car was parked that Cor spoke. (Ignis had been about to unbuckle his seatbelt and leave the car, but then found himself pinned by Cor's question.)

"Do you trust me, Ignis?"

That question seemed to have come from nowhere, a feeling that was compounded to the silence up to that point. The question wasn't threatening, but it did seem earnest. Cor looked him in the eye; he'd felt, in that moment, as if he couldn't look away.

"... You seem trustworthy. The King thinks highly of you. Noct trusts you wholeheartedly."

"That's not what I asked, though, is it? I'm asking about you."

The purpose of the question was still unclear. "... Would you wish for me not to do so? If you are trusted by Noct and King Regis both, I would see no reason not to... but to be honest, I'm not sure if I'd say that we were familiar enough with each other for me to say. On a personal level, that is."

"Hm. I just... worry, sometimes."

"... Worry?"

"Noctis is quite a trusting kid. ...He's a lot like Regis, in that respect. I don't think it's something Regis would want to discourage in him... so maybe that's your responsibility."

"... I'm not sure I follow."

"There's a lot of people out there with resentment towards the Crown - even within Lucis. Even within Insomnia...! You cannot assume that everybody Noctis encounters will have the best of intentions towards him. Maybe you're too young for this right now... I'm just saying, it's up to you to keep an eye on things. Think about things critically. People, especially. I'm not saying to openly distrust everybody you meet, just... make sure to follow your own judgment. I think that's what I'm trying to say."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Right. You don't have to understand right now. Just keep it in mind for the future."

"... Yes, Sir."


-----


At another time of the day, the Citadel kitchens might have been more populated; with fridges and freezers still working, it only made sense to make use of the facilities for those who had made the migration over from Lestallum. As it was, however, at that time of the morning, Cor found himself watching Ignis in an otherwise empty kitchen. For all the time Cor had spent at the Citadel in the past, he supposed he'd never much thought of what happened in these departments; presumably a kitchen of this size would have had any number of professionals working in it, maybe around the clock, to provide for the Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive, for royalty... and yet now it lay silent but for the solitary sound of chopping.

"... Always amazes me when people can chop like you do."

"Oh? You're telling me you're not that handy with a blade, Marshal? That can't be."

"... Very funny."

"It's simply technique, that's all. Of course, I was able to learn - in this very kitchen, as a matter of fact. To be employed by the Citadel, I'd imagine one would have to have quite the level of skill, indeed. I thought nothing of it at the time, of course. Just, that was the way it was done, so, that was the way that I learnt it. It's only really been since then that I've had people gazing at me as I cook, simply amazed that I could do such a thing. I'd think, 'You could do this too, surely?'... but like I said, I'd imagine learning here, from the people that I learnt from, the manner of skills I was able to pick up... I suppose, in retrospect, such a thing was maybe unusual."

"Most people did not grow up with a kitchen full of professional chefs practically at their beck and call, no. My own cooking was always more functional than 'fancy'."

"Nothing wrong with that. So long as you were providing yourself with adequate nutrients."

"I'm here now, so I must have been doing something right."

"Indeed."

The vegetables that Cor had been given turned out to be somewhat on the small side, but still perfectly edible. The nearest oven sat lit from within, showing off the potatoes that were baking as Ignis went on with preparing, as it seemed to be, a vegetable soup.

"They seemed confident that the next crops will be bigger. This does seem to be a good start, though."

"It's a small miracle that we were able to grow even these, I'd say. I fear I know less about vegetable cultivation than I might like. I suppose there must have been ways to maintain specimens, even throughout the darkness. And Insomnia was practically self-sustaining, after all. The outskirts of the city lie in better shape than that around the Citadel, aside from the previous threat of daemons, and the years they sat abandoned. That's not to say that they might work immediately, but... I hope, in time, it may be possible to bring those sites back to their intended purpose."

"We made it through the darkness, after all. At least now we have the time and the space for those with the knowledge to inspect those areas fully."

"Indeed."

They fell to silence, with only the sound of the simmering soup pot between them; there was nothing uncomfortable about that, however. To have the space for such silence to begin with almost felt like a luxury; they could tend to these small, domestic matters with no threat of attack, could walk the city with no fear of daemons, or an ambush from an underground cache of MT soldiers. The sun shone, and vegetables were growing. The years of darkness - and the events prior to that, even - had taken their toll, and yet they were still able to sit like this, having come through it all. Somehow. In those moments, it was almost possible to forget the pain which weighed down upon them, the sacrifices that had been necessary to bring the world to light. They could cook and talk and smile, as if everything was normal. (And this was normal, now.)


-----


"He doesn't really talk about himself a lot."

Some time after Gladiolus had taken on the Blademaster's challenge, Ignis had asked him his thoughts on Cor. It had only come about in retrospect that Cor had led Gladiolus towards this challenge, but nothing about that seemed out of the ordinary. If nothing else, it had set Ignis's mind at rest somewhat, knowing what Gladiolus had done, and knowing that he hadn't been alone on his journey.

That said, he didn't seem to have much to impart on the actual experience of having spent time alongside Cor; Ignis had felt the need to hold his tongue rather than his immediate reflex response of I could have told you that. Despite being in no hurry to offer any further illumination, Gladiolus did pause for a moment, as if a thought had come to him.

"He doesn't seem like it, but I think he's the kind of guy who has trouble letting go of things. Seems to have a lot weighing him down. ...That's probably as much as I should say."

Ignis came back to that thought frequently, over the days that followed. For as much as he had come to learn, over the years, that being an adult in age was no guarantee of maturity or expertise, there was still the small part of him that remembered seeing Cor as he had when he was younger; steadfast, untouchable, at the King's side. The rumors that had surrounded him made it easy for him to seem larger than life, stories told that made him seem superhuman - but he was still human, and Ignis thought upon Gladiolus's words, and he wondered. What would it be that you had cause to regret? He knew, too, that the answer to that question was hardly any of his business. To think of it in that way, he knew that he knew very little of the life of Cor Leonis as it was. That air of regret could have had any source, or many sources, or be something else entirely. Ignis knew that Cor was unlikely to spill his soul to them any time soon, and so marked it as not being a high priority; following the fall of Insomnia, there was little room for vague curiosities.


----


"I'm impressed...!" Cor pushed away his bowl, having finished his serving of the soup. "I'm no food critic. I don't really know what to say, beyond that."

Ignis chuckled gently. "It's a simple recipe, no need for much fanfare. I understand it less of a priority, but I'll be glad once we have the resources to replenish our stocks of seasonings. Such things do have a remarkably long shelf life, it's true, but their potency does degrade over time. That said, I'm not unhappy with the result; for a first attempt, it was perfectly serviceable. Perhaps you could turn your hand to it, next time...?"

"I'll admit, it didn't seem too complicated. Though Monica's probably the one to talk to about that sort of thing. She knows her herbs and spices much better than I do."

"I shall keep that in mind."

"So. You think they should keep on doing what they're doing? I'm meant to go back and give a report. Or report my opinion, at least."

"And the purpose of asking mine, also...?"

"Like I said, I'm not great with these sorts of things. I trust your opinion. If you think we should proceed, then I'll stand by that. If there's something you've noticed that I didn't pick up on, I want to know that too." Cor looked back over to the remainder of the vegetables, sat on the counter. "I think it was a success, but I don't know how advanced my palate is."

"I hardly think anything requiring an advanced palate is necessary at this juncture. Can we grow produce? Will it flourish? These are the important questions. Anything beyond that, for now, is only a bonus. ...Although a welcome one, nonetheless."

"Well, I guess I can go back and report the news to them, then. It's always good when the results are encouraging. Keeps morale up."

"I can't help but think--..."

"Mm?"

Ignis, too, had finished his bowl, and set it and the spoon to ones side. He reached for one of the nearby vegetables; an onion. The papery skin rustled as he turned it over in his hands, a wistful expression on his face. "It's nothing, really. I just wondered, for a moment - light returns to the world, and almost the first thing we set about doing is growing vegetables...? I wonder what Noct would have thought of that." He laughed gently. "Well. I know what he would have thought of that. The thought amused me. That's all."

The days under sunlight held none of the fear they once had, but that relief and will to embrace a daily life of comfortable domesticity lay punctuated by the everpresent sense of grief that still blanketed over everything. It was something beyond sadness - they could laugh and smile, recalling what they'd lost, and feel the pain more keenly for that. Remembering Noctis in the small things certainly kept memories of him alive, but it was still sometimes hard for them - those three in particular - to stand under the sunlight, and know that that was all they could have.

Cor expected that, but knew himself not the most eloquent to respond when it came to these matters. He hadn't known Noctis like Ignis had. Perhaps that in itself might be of some comfort.

"... I remember even King Regis telling me of such things, back when Noctis was a child. He had a look not unlike yours, now I come to think of it. He hadn't yet found a vegetable that Noctis would eat, but seemed unconcerned by that. ...At the time, I may have implied that such an attitude might spoil him. He told me that I was only worrying too much about unnecessary things - after all, many children find vegetables unpleasant. 'It may change as he grows,' he said. 'Or, it may not.' I suppose he never developed that appreciation?"

"For the most part. I, too, may have raised the issue more than once. Certainly once we left the Crown City. It was my duty, after all, to ensure that the four of us maintained healthy eating habits on our journey. I learnt a lot, certainly...! It might have been possible for us to have simply bought supplies from every outpost we visited, but there was also a sense of responsibility in fending for ourselves. If nothing else, it ensured that Gladio didn't fall back on Cup Noodle for every meal...!"

"I was about to ask about the others. They should also have taken responsibility, but... no, I see your point. Sometimes you just have to take a stand, don't you?"

"... It really was so long ago, wasn't it? Really, a brief time that we spent together, like that. And yet I can recall it all as if it were yesterday. Maybe moreso than other things more recent. It's strange how the mind works, isn't it?"

The question was as lighthearted as their conversation up to that point, but held the tension of a thousand memories. Cor's only response was to move from his chair and to take Ignis into an embrace around his shoulders. The movement was quite audibly telegraphed but Ignis still feigned surprise, even as he leant back into Cor's firm hold.

"I'm sure if somebody were to see this, they would be quite surprised."

"So?"

"A compelling argument, well-made."


-----


The Insomnian wall was an ideal vantage point for looking out over the city and scoping out what damage had been done - or at least, that was the excuse. It was considered too dangerous for civilians, on the whole, to scale, but nobody had the reason nor intention to prevent people such as Cor or Ignis taking the journey up there. And it was a journey; despite everything, the wall itself had remained largely undamaged, although the parts that had been broken were still a call for concern. Wall maintenance had always been an issue, even before all of this, and so various routes and corridors in certain places would lead out to the height of the wall itself.

"Could you tell me your findings, Marshal?"

I could, Cor thought. To actually look upon the city told them little they didn't already know - that some areas had been greatly damaged, that others were remarkably unscathed - but there was something to be said for the view in itself. Or perhaps there was nothing that could be said; even in Insomnia's heyday, Cor hadn't seen a view of it quite like this. There never would have been call for him to do so; he thought of those who worked to maintain the wall, or whose job it had been to ensure care of the communications masts that could still be seen situated against the far points of the city limits. This must have been their secret.

There was barely a cloud in the sky; the sun shone down on Insomnia. Uncomplicated and brilliant, as if there had never been anything else. Cor thought of Prompto, in that moment; it might be important to capture this view. The physical matter of the city was hardly anything compared to those who were to live in it - or had lived in it, at any point - but Cor still found himself consumed by a single thought.

I failed you.

"Marshal."

"Oh? Uh. ...Yeah. I was--... I was thinking that perhaps we should contact Prompto. Vyv, too, may know something."

"In regards to what?"

"We cannot let too many people up here, but it could be that their photographs would capture a view of the city enough that it gives us a brief picture of the landscape - an easy reference of those areas that are stricken, and those which have managed to survive. I'm not sure I'd trust my own words as adequate, in this case. Having physical evidence that could be passed amongst the people would be useful."

"Of course. ...And the city itself?"

"... As suspected, the majority of the damage is centered around the Citadel and its immediate surroundings. We shall have to find some use for the fallen Imperial dropships, some method of transporting them elsewhere... it could still be that some might even be functional, given a little work. There are few amongst us with that knowledge, but it is an outside possibility. We still have yet to check most of the residential districts for their structural integrity, but we knew that. It could still be that some Insomnian survivors could return to their homes; should that be the case, they would also likely happily support the burden of upkeep. There might be some pride found in making their residences as they were previously; naturally, the effort to clean the areas that are otherwise untouched is something of a lower priority. If there are people who would welcome that enthusiastically, then it should be encouraged."

"Even with your eyes closed, you can still sense the presence of the sunlight, can you not?"

"I--..." Cor looked to Ignis, then. (His expression seemed carefully neutral.) "... Indeed."

"It is quite the comfort. Even now, to be able to confirm with my own senses - this is what we fought for, after all. This is what he--..."

"He brought light back to the world. ...And yet I still can't help but think of Regis, in times like this."

"Oh...?"

Cor hesitated, for a moment. It felt like so long since he'd said that name out loud to anybody - perhaps it has been 'so long'. Cor felt that he'd seen more of Cid and Weskham in the ten years of darkness than he had for a great length of time up to that point, and yet gaps still lay in the conversation, subjects that they wouldn't - couldn't? - raise to one another. There was too much history there, it felt hard to know even where to begin. Cor knew, too, of the impression he gave to those around him - and the time he'd spent with Weskham and Cid, back in the day, would have done nothing to dissuade them of those thoughts. There was a selfish part of Cor's mind that felt that perhaps, it might be easier this way. Their group, as it had been, had long since fractured. (Even before the fall of Insomnia...!)

Yet, perhaps it was important to voice those feelings, even if only slightly, just sometimes. If anybody were to welcome memories of the Lucian royal lineage, Cor felt that Ignis would be that person; not so close for it to be awkward, but enough so for there to be a shared common ground.

"... For so long, it felt like protecting Insomnia was the most important thing. It was, at least for some time. There were many that were unhappy of the reduction of the barrier towards the Crown City, of course. Those from more remote regions, who felt that the king had betrayed them. ...That wasn't a conflict new to Regis, either. I was hardly politically active at the time, but I know that King Mors had his detractors on the issue, also. In a rational sense, I can understand it, but as somebody who stood by Regis, at that time--... if there was more that could have been done, he would have done it. I know that much. There are limits to everything. ...It took such a toll on him, both physically and mentally."

"The burden of the Ring seemed heavy indeed."

"I would imagine that, perhaps, Clarus heard more of it than I did. It may be that he didn't wish to burden me with such things. I could easily see that of him."

Cor looked to Ignis in the silence that followed, in case there was any sign that this conversation should end; he saw none, or any indication that Ignis would interject. The concept of talking without interruption felt almost irresistible, albeit dangerous - as if, in a moment, Cor could say too much. Whatever that would be, in this circumstance.

"... I was thirteen, when I first attached my wayward protection to the Lucis Caelum lineage. I remember seeing the passing of King Mors. I remember feeling the passing of King Regis. And now, King Noctis, also--..." Cor let out a bitter laugh. "For my sins, they called me 'the Immortal'. Even now, amongst the Hunters and the Glaives, as if that should be a title of pride - but what pride can there be of having lived, when it comes at the cost of those you were tasked to protect?... Regis sent me away, that day. I know, now, his intention with that command. Even at the time, I spoke against it - but I could do little to act against it, when the calling came. I followed his word, as he had asked of me. If I had disobeyed that command, it might be that I would also have died, alongside the many that we lost that day. I might have died, then, regretting my inability to do more. ...As it is, I live, still carrying that regret. Perhaps it is the knowledge that either path would have led to the same outcome that compounds the frustration."

"I would not speak platitudes to you, Marshal. To think, 'Is there anything I could have done?'... It is only in retrospect that we see the things that were necessary. I understand, now, that Regis knew of Noct's fate. To know his son as the Chosen King - and to know, also, that he could not become so while still remaining a prince. Could we have fought the will of the Gods? I wonder. For the rest of my life, I fear that that question will haunt me. Is there something else we could have done, other choices we could have made...? Perhaps, but we will never know them. It is, as you say, a frustration. To think of 'what if'... there is little purpose to it. ...And yet."

"The people can live without threat of the Niflheim war effort. They can live under the sun, without daemons prowling the lands. ...It could still sound empty to only say 'it was worth it', though. Don't you think?"

"... A thought I would voice to few others. Or at least--... my mind knows that it was worth it. I think it might still take some time before my heart is convinced."

There wasn't a person left alive who wasn't having to adjust their purpose, Cor knew that much. Everything had changed, for everyone - it was as simple as that. That the two of them had been raised in service to royalty was a mere footnote in history - the bloodlines of Lucis, of Niflheim, of Tenebrae, all now resigned to the past.

Cor sighed. "They look up to us though, don't they? As if having been in service to the Crown brings any sense of what we're meant to do now."

"Indeed. It doesn't stop, does it? The need to continue. To, perhaps, be reliable, where others may need to rely on us. If we can project that strength, even if we don't always feel it... time will pass. Strength will grow. It could be that the people would forget that there was ever a line of Kings once tasked with their protection."

"Would you want them to?"

"Personally? No. And don't they say that to lack an awareness of history is to be doomed to repeat it?... I don't know who 'they' are, though. And I would imagine the circumstance of our history quite difficult to replicate."

Again, a silence. It was easy for the conversation to drift into these grand declarations, but Cor still found one question playing on his mind.

"... And who would you rely on, Ignis? Being the 'reliable' one, all the time... that's pretty exhausting."

"I could easily ask - and say - the same of you, Marshal. I can recall encountering the whispers of you as a lone wolf of the Crownsguard long before I made any meaningful interaction with you myself. But, to answer your question - I would rely on those around me. Gladio and Prompto... might seem a little unreliable, at times, but I know that we can call on one another where it counts. I like to believe they would think the same of me, of course."

"What, that they'd think you were 'unreliable, at times'?"

"Well--... perhaps not that, so much. Come now, you've met them both, you know what I mean."

"I know. I know."

"If we can rely on one another... we cannot be strong all of the time. It may be that none of us were ever well-versed in being able to display weakness to others. Maybe that, too, is something that we would need to nurture."

"'Weakness', huh. What do you suppose that would be?"

"Am I to believe that you have never felt that? I fear that may be living up to your reputation a little too much."

"I don't mean that. Maybe I'm just long past assigning value judgments to such things."

"You still regret, though, don't you? Or would labeling that as a weakness be remiss of me?" (Cor blinked in surprise at Ignis, then; the lack of response was enough to cause Ignis to falter.) "I apologize. I spoke out of turn."

Cor couldn't help but laugh, folding his arms and looking up to the sky. "It's not that. It just struck me how long it's been since I've known anybody who would speak to me in such a way. I know there are some Hunters who would be practically scandalized. ...I appreciate it, though. Just as you said - relying on one another."

"Would you have confided in those same Hunters...? They can only react to what they are aware of, after all."

"... You're right, of course. I'm sure if I ever would have said anything of it out loud, they would have said not to worry - I can practically hear Monica in my mind, 'Make sure you're not pushing yourself...!' And yet, I know how they thought of me, how they spoke of me. If any one of our number should have fallen to despair of the darkness, I would not have called it 'weakness', but if they could look to me for some sort of strength - it would have been pointless to saddle anybody with such needless things, then. They were awaiting the return of the True King, after all. Many of them might still have felt that Regis failed them - I'm sure there would be little room there for any reminiscing on my part. And what should be gained of looking to the past? It was all we could do to fight for our future."

"I should quite enjoy hearing tell of King Regis. If there were stories you wished to share, of course. I'm sure that the Regis that you knew and the Regis that I knew were likely quite different people."

"You think?" Cor smiled. "I wonder about that."

"Then, you'll just have to illuminate me on the matter, won't you?"


-----


"So, what were your 'best dishes'? I'm sure you must have something up your sleeve."

With further crops gathered, it had become something of a routine for Cor to bring the produce to Ignis, and enjoy the gentle surprise of what it would be he could conjure up from the selection. The vegetables planted were largely similar, but every once in a while there would be some result from something planted just as a test. Perhaps, soon, there would be fruit alongside the vegetables. Would the world return to predictable seasons? All they could do was to wait and discover that for themselves.

In the meantime, there was something quite calming about the sound of slicing, of water boiling, the steady hum of the ovens. Cor leant across the table, deep in thought. "I wonder. For the most part, I prepared meals for myself - that remained the same whether I was within the Crown City, or outside of it. ...During my travels as part of Regis's retinue, cooking duty was often overtaken by Weskham. It came as little surprise to hear of him having established himself within Altissia. When he was so skilled, it felt unwise to play roulette with our nightly meal - my cooking could have been passable, or it could have been... less so. Of course, I was still young, then."

"And time has passed since then. Really, nothing comes to mind?"

"Those who worked in these same kitchens would provide for the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive, if it were desired. Traveling outside of the capital... I suppose I cooked fish, quite often."

"You were able to debone it correctly?"

"Another one of Weskham's skills. I suppose I watched him enough to pick up on it, even if my own experience came later."

"That's still quite impressive in itself. Well, if we were looking for somewhere to begin, I would say that cooking with fish is a fine place. Not to mention, the practice of fishing, itself--..."

"We don't have to."

"No, I'd like to. Aside from that, it would be of worth to look over the various fishing spots, just to be sure that the flora and fauna has, there, too, returned to normal. ...I can't imagine that it wouldn't have, of course, but it makes for a fine excuse, does it not?"

There might have been some who would have argued that people such as Cor and Ignis would have had better things to do with their time than explore the fishing opportunities that Lucis still had to offer, but likely more still who wouldn't have begrudged them for that activity. Cor knew that doing so could only bring back memories of Noctis - but knew that Ignis knew that better than anybody. So, too, did he know that Ignis likely also felt the everpresent danger of being trapped in memories of the past, but there was still some distance between that and reminiscing, which seemed unavoidable.

They could fish, and they could talk of the past - as much as was comfortable. (If it became too much to bear, then that, also, was understandable.) There lay, too, the possibility of new memories made, forged through laid-back journeys taken under the sunlight. Cor relished the prospect, and felt confident that Ignis would only agree.