What I really want is...

By Gentle(wo)man

Warnings: May contain hints to the game, may contain "the" language, may contain sexual scenes, may twist the storyline, may contain violence. You have been warned, my friends, but you know you want to read it anyway. Oh, and "may" means "probably will" here.

Age preferation: NC-17.

Characters used: Edgar, Sabin, Terra, Celes, Locke and Setzer, all from Final Fantasy VI, which I by the way don't own. I wish I did though, awesome story. Everyone "may" fuck each others. But maybe, under all the breeding, there is actually a romantic love story? Could I really be so much of a romantic? I guess time will tell.

Comments & feedback: Read the story. If you like it, rate it. If you didn't like it, don't rate it, but send me a message telling what I could have done otherwise in order to get you like it. If you neither liked nor disliked it, don't rate or send me any messages, unless you feel an actual need to rate it or point out what it made you think. All feedback sent will be treasured and make me a very happy little bunny, though.

Other things you should know: You know you want to read this story.

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Chapter 1: Royal brothers

"Yes, you are indeed my dearesth friend. Never have you let me down before, and neither you will in the future…" A sharp knock echoed from the door.

"Edgar", Sabin said roughly. Edgar, the king of Figaro, fell silent with his speech.

"I know you are in there", Sabin continued as Edgar didn't reply, speaking out Edgar's fears. King cursed loudly in his mind.

"You have time about few seconds before I am going to smash this door open", Sabin threatened and placed his fist against the wooden door of Edgar's bedroom. Edgar wouldn't like it if the door would come crashing down. Good. Sabin didn't want Edgar to like it. He wasn't supposed to like it if the door came crashing down.

Sabin pressed his ear against the door, only to hear that Edgar continued to speak to whoever was in there with him. Well, whatever. Wasn't his door.

He pulled his hand back with sharp movement and slammed it against door accompanied with heavy roar. Door fell heavily in, and Sabin heard – glass shattering? He lifted an eyebrow, but stepped inside.

Only decorated item in the room was Edgar's bed. Dark wood, imperial red blankets decorated with royal gold, pillows which could easily make any princess jealous. Rest of the room was quite ascetic; bookshelves, books and some more books. Most of them were about technology, but there was one shelf about books Edgar hated; etiquette, guides of gentlemen, how-to-be-king…

And there, under huge window, sitting by his desk, sat king Edgar. His usually straight posture had slumped, immaculate clothes were crumpled and his golden locks had escaped from faultless ponytail. He was talking to a wineglass he was holding in his hand.

"My dearesth… friend", Edgar repeated in drunken voice, paying hardly any attention at all to his brother who had just striked his door out of it's hinges.

"Edgar, for the sake of Strenght…" Sabin sighed frustratedly. He walked over his brother and pulled him up. Edgar's grip of wineglass didn't last. Glass fell against the table, and dark purple wine cascaded down to chair, where it continued it's travel towards the floor.

Navy blue eyes were wandering, before they met Sabin's eyes of similar color. Edgar smirked faintly.

"Shaabin", he said slowly, pronouncing exaggeratedly and lifted his hand into a lazy greeting.

"Get a grip, brother", Sabin snapped, not knowing whether to be shocked, angry, sad or amused. If anyone saw king at this state…

"Don't be so harsh on me", Edgar scowled, dissatisfied, "I 'ave nothing to do tom-tomorrow, so I can drrrink all I want tonight."

"Yes, but tomorrow you'll have a head-ache", Sabin said, rolling his eyes.

"My head-ache is my head-ache", Edgar snickered, clearly amused with his pathetic joke. Sabin concluded that it'd be easiest to go along with him, while subtly dragging him towards the bed. Edgar made a heavy land on the bed. Sabin cursed silently while pulling his clothes off. Edgar murmured half-eligible words against the pillow. Sabin had managed to take his all clothes off, before he realized that Edgar's murmuring had turned into sobbing.

Sabin could easily deal with over-active drunken act, but he never had known how to deal with those who ended up crying pathetically. Especially when it was his brother, and King of Figaro, who was laying there naked, clumsily reaching for a pillow and crying.

"There, there, shrimp", Sabin whispered and stroked Edgar's back. Even when he was the younger of those two, he was without a doubt bigger. Edgar was the bookworm, he was the strong fist. That's how it was, and that's how it probably would be.

"I had no idea", Edgar sobbed, "w-what it's l-like to be.. a king!" Last word escaped from his lips like a foul curse, and Sabin felt needle of guilt slowly pushing into his chest.

"All those f-fucking people around me, they could go to h-hell for all I care", Edgar cried, crawling to his bed. Sabin lifted the blanket and tucked his brother in bed. His sniffling and sobbing soon turned into sighs and regular breathing with occasional gasps.

Sabin leaned his elbows to his knees and sighed wearily. Was this really right? To make his brother suffer like this – just so that he could gain his own freedom?

Besides, it had all been a big fat lie. Sabin checked on the coin later, and both sides of it were heads. Edgar probably had no idea about it, and Sabin hadn't brought it up. He slid his head to his hands. Sabin had sneaked into freedom like a worthless thug, and now he had returned to check up on his brother.

He could never have guessed that it was this hard on him.

Silently as ever Sabin got up and sneaked out of the room. Using passages no other guard knew, he was soon out in the desert – towards his freedom bought with bitter price.

That night was years ago, but sometimes it still returned to Sabin's dreams. Memory of his brother, mentally crushed and collapsed over his lie, kept haunting him. He would wake up from those dreams gasping for breath, mouthing his brother's name and pouring cold water over himself to get his mind off from the pain at least for a moment.

He really wanted to know how Edgar was doing, but he couldn't bring himself to get back to Figaro Castle anymore. He was simply too scared.

He was waiting for a sign from his destiny. Anything to let him know that it would be all right to meet up with Edgar again. Until that, he just kept on training.