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Final Fantasy XII. Last Questions. Gabranth/Drace
Title: Last Questions
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters: Gabranth/Drace
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Gabranth knows what he has to do, but he still has questions he can't ask.
Warnings: Spoilers. Spoilers. If you have not gotten to the huge plot point on Mt. Bur-Omisace, and don't want to spoiled, don't read it. If you have, or you don't mind being spoiled, then enjoy. ^.^
Drace is beautiful.
Gabranth doesn't know why that surprises him. He's heard her voice every single time the Judge Magistrates meet, and somehow the sharp Archadian accent never grates on his ears. Yet, he has never seen her without her helmet. Bergan, Ghis, Zargabaath, he's seen them, but Drace has never let the helmet fall until now.
Now he stands over her, sword in his hand, ready to execute her for their master and Law. And in the seconds he can spare before his fellow judges and the Emperor consider him a lawbreaker, he wants to ask her a million things. Relevant things, like why she pointed her sword before understanding, but also things he would have never asked her otherwise: Why does she hide behind the helmet? What is that perfume that she always wears even with the armor? What does she do when she isn't upholding the law, or when she breaks it? What does she see in Zargabaath? Does she see something in Zargabaath?
But Gabranth can't think of that now, when she's on the ground, just waiting for her end. He leans over her, sword drawn. He serves law, not love. He cannot be like his brother, controlled by emotion, ready to abandon what matters. Yet, he wants to tell her something, anything.
All he can do is listen though, and when she give her last request, look after Lord Larsa. Gabranth nods. If nothing else, they will always be allies. If nothing else. He does the deed with that thought in his mind.
Gabranth walked away, face impassive. Yet, something within him felt heavier than iron.
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters: Gabranth/Drace
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Gabranth knows what he has to do, but he still has questions he can't ask.
Warnings: Spoilers. Spoilers. If you have not gotten to the huge plot point on Mt. Bur-Omisace, and don't want to spoiled, don't read it. If you have, or you don't mind being spoiled, then enjoy. ^.^
Drace is beautiful.
Gabranth doesn't know why that surprises him. He's heard her voice every single time the Judge Magistrates meet, and somehow the sharp Archadian accent never grates on his ears. Yet, he has never seen her without her helmet. Bergan, Ghis, Zargabaath, he's seen them, but Drace has never let the helmet fall until now.
Now he stands over her, sword in his hand, ready to execute her for their master and Law. And in the seconds he can spare before his fellow judges and the Emperor consider him a lawbreaker, he wants to ask her a million things. Relevant things, like why she pointed her sword before understanding, but also things he would have never asked her otherwise: Why does she hide behind the helmet? What is that perfume that she always wears even with the armor? What does she do when she isn't upholding the law, or when she breaks it? What does she see in Zargabaath? Does she see something in Zargabaath?
But Gabranth can't think of that now, when she's on the ground, just waiting for her end. He leans over her, sword drawn. He serves law, not love. He cannot be like his brother, controlled by emotion, ready to abandon what matters. Yet, he wants to tell her something, anything.
All he can do is listen though, and when she give her last request, look after Lord Larsa. Gabranth nods. If nothing else, they will always be allies. If nothing else. He does the deed with that thought in his mind.
Gabranth walked away, face impassive. Yet, something within him felt heavier than iron.