Nimble Tyrants

a k a n t h a e - h i m e

Authoress' Note & Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply. This was written for no reason but to oust my feelings about many a person in my life...or maybe just to make me moody instead of cranky. Trust me, it's better for me to be moody than cranky. I'm less violent and more prone to write. It's much better. Much, much better.

Anyway, this is an angsty Penelo-centric ficlet. There are far too few of these, so I wrote one. I'm happy with it and the way it portrays Penelo (plus the way it sort of bashes Vaan, the insensitive prig). Read on unless you're pissed off I bashed Vaan. I don't really dislike him but I already wrote a Penelo-angst ficlet with Balthier...I felt it was time to turn my attention to this. Besides, Vaan blows off Penelo too much. A girl can get pretty sick of it.

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i. the girl next door

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be - a wonderful apology, Vaan, but hardly what I'd wanted. You'd never paid attention to what I need anyway. You still don't. You're always too busy oggling at the hem of Ashe's skirt, or sometimes Fran's backside, to even pay a passing glance to me - me and my chocobo pigtails and my brown angel wings. I'm too ordinary. I'm too unworthy of the great Ratsbane's affection. Even the rats captivate you more than I do.

I don't know whether to be grateful for that, because the rats always end up dead anyway, or angry because something so low is higher than I am in the hierachy. A bit of both, I suppose, because I can't help it. You think of me as your mother, an older sister. I think of you as far more than that but that's my only purpose; the rest have gone away since the days when I really mattered and I still wanted to believe you were just my little brother. I'm your right-hand woman but not the cause for the ornate silver ring that now decorates your finger. It's lost in the collection you've accumulated over the years but it's still there.

I wonder if you know what that ring is really for. You probably do know: the way I glance at it from an angle in the copilot's seat (does Fran feel overshadowed by Balthier, or is she too apathetic to care?) and wish that maybe once in a while you'd buy one for me. Something to remember the years, something to tell me how much you love me...oh, wait.

You don't.

Not like I want you to.

So when you catch my opal eyes wandering next time, delve a little deeper than enough to say, "Look in front of you, Penelo. I can't fly if I don't know where I'm flying."

Wish you could be the sidekick, Vaan? The girl hiding in the shadows?

I'm sure you do. You want to be me about as much as I want to be as foolish and stupid as you are. Because if I were you, I'd do a better job of appreciating the girl next door.