Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy XII nor its characters.
A/N: I am aware the disclaimer is boring, but I am at loss for what I could replace it with. This is the first multi-chapter story I am attempting to post and I hope I shall not disappoint. I also wish to express my gratitude to fffann231 for beta-ing.
Our purpose defines us. It tells us who we are and what we can accomplish. We live for our purpose and strive to see it true. But tragedies can sometimes askew our perception and make us think we no longer have a purpose. We succumb to death; let it take us as we are proud men. And a proud man with no purpose is not a man at all.
Chapter One: Death Isn't Fair
Gabranth's sight grew hazy as he struggled to ask his twin brother to forgive him for leaving him. He was ready to die. He had finally served his purpose and could now join his mother. He was not afraid of death and he would welcome it. Yet something just didn't seem right as he slipped into unconsciousness.
The next time he opened his eyes there was a glare of light threatening to blind him, so he squeezed them shut again quickly. He heard movement from his side and a voice. The voice sounded so concerned, so sweet. Perhaps it was the voice of the one sent to guide him from his shell and onto oblivion. He strained to open his eyes again and a decidedly feminine form hovered above him smiling.
"It's about time you woke up." She spoke to him gently.
"Am I not dead?" Gabranth puzzled thickly with a tinge of disappointment he couldn't mask.
"No, 'fraid not. But you were hurt pretty bad so you won't be getting out of bed anytime soon." She said in her gentle tone still smiling at him.
He sighed and closed his eyes again. He hadn't wanted to live. He was supposed to go out with his final duty done. He had passed his proverbial torch onto his brother and he didn't have any reason to live. But yet it seems the fates still had plans for him and he just wished he knew what they were.
"Noah," the voice chided. "Wake up and eat with me for a change."
His mind reeled at the use of his given name and he groaned. Of course, somehow he knew he could no longer be Gabranth, not if Basch was now Gabranth, but it didn't make him any happier about it. So he resigned to the fact that he was once again Noah and his stomach gave a loud growl. He did feel hungry and numb for some reason. He sighed in frustration as he opened his eyes to glare at the girl.
"Can you move your arms at all?" She asked with a concerned look on her face.
Noah grimaced and attempted to move anything. He managed a few fingers and felt the exhaustion set in almost immediately from the effort. His eyes widened in shock as panic started to ebb into his thoughts. What if he was never able to move again?
"The healers said the herbs they are giving you for pain make you uncoordinated, so don't worry. I can feed you." She smiled at him happily.
Noah simply glared in return. Whoever this girl was, she certainly wasn't very helpful. Nor did she have any tact. Didn't she realize that he was lying here suffering and not dead like he was supposed to be? Didn't she understand you just can't make a military man think he will never move again?
"Sorry," she apologized with a smile. "I know you're probably used to being up and moving all the time and you will again, just not today."
He muttered something incomprehensible in reply. He was expected to say something after all. He really didn't care to share pleasantries at the moment and simply wanted to eat and go back to dying. With any luck he wouldn't have to worry about tomorrow.
"The healers say you're getting better every day. I mean you've been asleep for about three days now. They, the healers that is, were even talking about lowering your herb dosage. That will make it easier for you to move and I'm sure that will make you feel better." She chatted on pleasantly.
'So much for dying,' he thought wryly.
His nose inhaled a pleasing aroma and his stomach growled loudly again. He looked to the platinum blonde girl and noticed that she was simply sitting on a crate staring at him with a bright smile. Noah was growing agitated with the girl's seemingly endless supply of happy.
"Food girl," he barked at her with a glare.
She had the audacity to smirk at him and then she just shook her head.
"I'll forgive you this time but we need to work on your manners." She chided in a motherly tone that grated on Noah's nerves.
Whoever thought to put this wisp of a nuisance as his caretaker was going to hear personally from him. He hadn't died, not to mention he was no longer in any threat of dying now, and here was this diminutive child berating him on his manners. The fates were cruel indeed.
He glowered darkly as he watched her movements. She walked to the fire that was centered in the canvas hut and went about drawing soup out of the black kettle pot that was settled over the flames. He noticed she had a certain grace about her in even this slightest of tasks and something about her was vaguely familiar. But for the life of him, he just couldn't place the familiarity. He thought perhaps he had seen her once about the palace, yet she did not behave like a servant and she most certainly did not have an Archadian accent. In truth she sounded more like an under-educated peasant and the way Noah's luck was playing currently, he was probably right.
The blonde girl was once again happily chatting on about something and Noah was pleased to find he could tune her out. He turned his head away from her and began to closely inspect the material that the hut was made of. It no longer resembled canvas. It looked more like a hide of sorts but none that he could ever recall seeing before. His stomach gave a grumble again and he shot his head back towards the girl. What was taking her so long?
Noah's face gave a startled expression when he found her kneeling at his side with a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. He hadn't even heard her. What kind of person was she that a Judge Magister doesn't hear when they sneak up on him? Not that he was Judge Magister anymore, but he was really going to give an earful to the idiots in charge of putting this girl to care for him.
"Stop sulking and eat." The blue eyed girl chided as she held the spoon carefully.
Noah glared at her for the millionth time, "I am not sulking."
"No, of course not," the girl sighed in exasperation. "You're pouting, now eat."
He gave an indignant look and was about to make yet another retort when he watched the girl's face change from the pleasant happy which had been annoying him to something dark and menacing that made her rather frightening. Noah decided that perhaps he should just let it be since he was hungry after all. He opened his mouth allowing her feed him, but didn't hesitate to glare or growl when she was either moving too slow or too fast for him.
When the bowl was empty, Noah said nothing. He did however feel a slight pang of guilt when he noticed the crestfallen look on the girl's face. She hadn't really expected him to graciously thank her for feeding him like an infant did she. Noah ruefully decided he should thank her for something, anything to rid him of the guilt. Despite how much he had loathed her earlier happiness, it wasn't her fault he hadn't died.
"The soup was good, my thanks." He mumbled the simplest compliment he could muster and felt the guilt subside as the smile slowly crept back to her face.
"I knew you couldn't be all that bad." She said gently as she stood and walked to the door.
Noah watched her quizzically and then was struck with the realization that he had no idea where he was or if his Lord was safe. He felt the need to know before she was gone and only hoped she knew.
"Wait," he hesitated then added, "please."
"What it is?" she asked as she turned to him and cocked her head.
"My Lord, is he well?" Noah asked pleadingly, hoping she knew.
He watched as the smile on her face widened and she giggled.
"Larsa's just fine, he was a bit upset at first but he'll be okay. He's in Rabanastre right now with Basch and I think we both know that Basch wouldn't let anything happen to him." She told him reassuringly then turned around again towards the door.
Noah's mind began to reel. His Lord was safe and well. He also noted that the girl didn't use his Lord's title and that she was aware he had a brother. No, she used his brother's name and that said that she knew his brother and she knew that both Lord Larsa and Basch were in Rabanastre. Yet if they were in Rabanastre…
"Where am I?" he wondered aloud.
"Jahara," came the light-hearted reply of the blonde girl before she exited the hut.
Noah now had two more questions he was dying to know the answer to, but now there was no one to ask. Who was this girl taking care of him and what in the fates name of Ivalice was Noah fon Ronsenberg doing in the land of the Garif?