Oblivion's Morphine
AN: Here's where I point out that I don't own FFTA or else the whole Llednar turns to stone thing so wouldn't have happened! I hated that part. Also I have to point out the, what should be well-known, warnings. If you have read any of my other fics you would know that I am prone to putting any type of pairing I want into my stories so if you can't stand this type of pairing or that type of pairing, leave now!
You watch her from the pub, trading gil for trinkets of some sort and laughing with her blond haired companion. You remember the boy; his name is Marche and you've fought with him which isn't saying much since you've faced off with many an annoyance but he's the one you couldn't bring yourself to kill which annoys you and brings up more feelings than you want to admit to. He's the one that frustrated you so much that you used Omega and promptly landed yourself in the lovely facilities of the tiny isolationism cell in Sprohm. That, you consider, was really masochistic of you.
You can see a Bangaa coming towards you. "Pedro?" you ask, slamming down your empty mug of ale.
"Biskmatar, you do realize that we have work to do, don't you?" That's Pedro, you think, completely unable to call you by your given name even though he's known you for what seems like forever and he's second in command of the Palace Guard though his job-rank is not as high as yours since he's commanded by Thane, the Leader of the Palace Guard and both she and you answer to the Queen. Thane's the only Viera on the Palace Guard but she's a Sniper with Assassin abilities and you figure that's enough to justify your irrational fear of her.
You're not sure why you and Pedro became friends but you think that it might be because he's the only one in the Palace Guard that's actually nice to you. You take one last longing look at the pink haired girl and Marche before tossing the gil to the Tavern Maid, telling her to "Keep the change" in a slightly cold voice and following Pedro out, an unlit cigarette hanging out of your mouth.
You light it as you step out into the drizzling rain. You give Pedro a cocky smirk as he shakes his head. He has told you a thousand times not to continue on your path to self-destruction but when have you listened to him? You laugh at what you perceive as foolishness. "They need escorts again. You know, Mewt wants to see Ambervale. So I am willing to assume that they will want you, Biskmatar." You nod slightly, irritated that you have to give up more of your free time for the Prince's selfish desires. Pedro notices your silence and gives you an odd look.
"What?"
"Nothing. It's just that you seem so out of it today. What's up?" You give him a look before pointing your finger towards the Tavern.
You shake your head, sighing, before telling Pedro, "Let's just get back to Bervenia. They're expecting me, aren't they?"
He nods at you before stating, "So is Casey." You punch him in the stomach and glare before heading off.
"Don't remind me, Pedro. She can't take no for an answer." Pedro followed you back to Bervenia, watching you walk down the halls of jail cells and seeing you remember nights spent in them.
"Don't get too caught up in the past." Before this moment, when you were so sure of yourself, you might have harshly thrown his hand off before walking away but now that weight on your shoulder was comforting.
Casey looked at you, cold brown eyes boring into your two different colored ones (one gray and one violet). She shakes her head at you and you sigh for what feels like the third time tonight. You both have watch duty and it isn't getting any easier to keep your eyes open. "Sometimes I worry about you, Biskmatar. I think you burden yourself with your own thoughts too often."
You shiver involuntarily and look over at the Fencer. When you speak, you are looking not at her, but at the sky above you. "I have some feelings to sort out. That's all. And no, I don't see you the way you want me to. Just as a friend Casey. So look for someone else, will you?" She punches you lightly on the arm before giggling and forgiving you. You're relieved that she's not angry.
On the day of your journey, you sleep in late. You're beginning to find your own cynical personality depressing but it's like you can't feel anything else. You look over at your Bangaa companion again. "Pedro, why are you coming along?" He shrugs his shoulders wearily.
You aren't surprised when you find yourself battling what feels like the one hundredth team of thieves. You are, however, surprised that you're so close to collapsing at this point. Sure they weren't able to steal anything from you, since that was against today's laws but your standard issue boots were slipping in the muddy soil.
You could barely make out the words spoken to you before you lost all of the world to darkness. It reminded you of your abyss attack and that only served as a catalyst to bring the memories of those days of trying to clear your name from the red card right after your release. You were now trying to remember what answers you had gained during that solitude. You remember that final day vividly. You were so close to losing it over the phone with Pedro. But as luck would have in, you didn't cry, instead you let that madness penetrate your mind and take over. You still feel it bubbling to the surface sometimes, but you push against it, hoping to break that miasma one day.
Your mind reels, back to that blond and what that fight made you question. It was your first taste at freedom, which is ironic because it landed you in one of the worst prisons in Ivalice. You have an over-whelming desire to join up with Marche's clan and leave the oppressive Palace to the Bangaas.
But your mind still searches for what you decided your affiliation with Marche was. Obsession, your mind declared, you find it fascinating that he can not only lead a clan but also be the kind and compassionate person you had seen when he visited you on your first day in jail. You were the one who had pushed him away and you regret that now. You had learned that you were not immortal and couldn't survive as a loner.
You open your eyes, startled to see the blond leaning over you. "You ok?" he asks and his tone is one of concern.
"I feel like a Dragoon's jump attack was preformed on my head. How long have I been out?" He looks over at the bedside table as you notice how quiet your voice has become. He grabs the cup of water and what seems like headache medication. You take it, thanking him sincerely and take the meds with the water, finishing it off before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. You not only want to use the facilities, which you do, but you also find yourself wanting to take a shower.
"You've been out for a week," Marche tells you, handing you some clothes. "Be careful," he warns, "You still seem extremely tired." You nod, taking the clothing and shutting the door.
You feel better than you have in a while, even though you're clearly wearing Marche's clothing. It smells like Salkawood and a smell that you can't place but are sure is the unique scent of the original owner. You sit on what you assume is Marche's bed since it smells like the implacable scent in Marche's clothing. You look out the window and upon seeing the Prison, you wonder why his clan's HQ is in a Bangaa city. "We have an HQ on every piece of turf the clan owns. That and Nono's modified fairy boots was how I was able to visit you the night of your incarceration. I know it wasn't right of me, but I wanted to see how you were doing, sorry."
You shake your head and continue to stare out the window as the bed dips slightly with the addition of Marche's weight. You can feel his eyes on you as you sigh. "It's my fault. I go against authority once and then I'm sent to jail. I took it out on you and I shouldn't have." 'Even though I knew that I'd go to prison if I attempted that move and was desperate to end the battle because healing was outlawed and you were one hit away from death,' you thought, knowing that this was the real answer to why. You had pushed the limits of the power you held against the Palace and you paid dearly for it especially after Thane and the Queen found out about it. You landed yourself in a cell in the Palace but because of your explanation you also got Cid in trouble, which is really what you set out to do after you came back from Sphorm's prison. Your body still shows Remedi's wrath but during that twenty-one day period, you found that you no longer cared about her opinions.
"You knew that Omega would send you to prison and yet you did it anyway! Why on earth would you do that?" You shift anxiously on the bed knowing you can answer this question one of two ways, the way you'd answer Casey (with another question) or the way you'd answer Pedro (the truth).
"Why did you stop your thieves from stealing my expensive and rare items when I don't have maintenance, it wasn't outlawed and I was blind?" You remember that part vividly. It was just before you used Omega. You couldn't see anything and was reminded of those first few months spent in jail cells in the Palace as Remedi waited for her 'husband' to screw up. You heard a Viera announce to the rest of his clan that they had to finish the battle now or they'd lose Marche. That's when the plot to end the battle hatched itself. It would end if and only if you sent yourself to prison since it was a 'Defeat the Boss' mission. So you did just that.
"Clearly there's something wrong with me. For the life of me, I don't know why I stopped them." You can tell that he's sincere.
"Freedom," you say and he looks at you oddly.
"Isn't that ironic? To gain your freedom you had to get sent to jail." You want to stop him before he takes your reason to left field. He doesn't understand that you meant his freedom not yours. That would require him to understand your past and even you don't want to remember what you were supposed to be other than someone who had none of hi sown desires and no mind of his own. Marche was the one who spurred you to break every habit you'd been taught and you knew it couldn't just be an obsession that you had with him.
"Well tell me what you'd do if Remedi told you that your objective was to stop Marche from getting to the Totema and do it without being able to use your most powerful attack!" You were staring at him angrily and that's what you would later blame for your next set of words, "I told her that I wasn't going to def-obey the laws if they were going to be something that limited my strategies! Like I care about some stupid crystal! I'm not Babus who is completely unable to make opinions for himself! And I don't know what Remedi was thinking!"
You could tell that while you had done an excellent job covering up this is Marche so of course he caught your Freudian slip. "You were worried about me? I was wondering if it was a coincidence that you used Omega when the Sprites were close to killing me. Why would you give up your freedom, something that you would admit yourself was the thing you wouldn't want to give up for anything, for my life if you had never really known me?"
"Why did you bring me here? You don't know me very well and you brought me here knowing what I could do to you or your clan? Why would you trust the devil Marche?"
And all you can remember was what the Queen told you the day you were created, "Every sin," she said, her voice mocking, "that's what you are. And only sins little Biskmatar. You live to disappoint. You can do no good. For you will never gain that sort of enlightenment. Your power is that anger that flows like blood through your veins. Blood will stain your hands, especially the blood of the innocents like that blond boy. How do you like that, Biskmatar? You will be Marche's downfall."
That vile laugh rings in your ears and you lean your head against your knees, trying to find reality between the Salkawood and Marche. Marche seems to be everything that Remedi hates. You feel like he needs your protection and you take a deep breath before opening your eyes. "Marche, I want to join your clan. Can I?" You figure that this is the only way to protect Marche. But you also know that Marche and his clan will be in some serious trouble for aiding a deserter of this magnitude.
"Are you willing to risk it?" he asks, his face close to yours.
"Are you?" and now your faces are dangerously close; so close that you can see the exact tint of blue Marche's eyes are. You're not sure who started the kiss but you know that you both were a part of it. You fear that you now are dependant on his actions but if this is freedom, if Marche is freedom then you wouldn't give freedom up for the world. You must have found your spot. The spot where your thoughts are more important to someone than the thoughts of others.