THE PRICE OF HONOR
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy XII and all other related characters, events, etc. do not belong to me.
Overall Story Notes: (minor spoilers) The story is about Gabranth and Larsa so in my story, Gabranth DID NOT die in the end of the game. :)
Chapter Notes: Chapter 11 begins the morning after the previous chapter.
Author's Notes: Not proof-read so will probably contain a lot of grammatical eyesores. Sorry.
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"On your feet Lord Larsa, quickly now!" Basch all but hauled the Solidor heir off the bed as the rest of the group gathered their belongings in a rush. Larsa rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he let the older man guide him, nearly stumbling at everyone's fast pace.
"What in Ivalice is going on?" Larsa asked when he was finally fully awake. Balthier raised an eyebrow as he escorted Vaan, Penelo, and Ashe out the door of their rented room. "It seems as if Imperials have found us Emperor-ling. I have not all the details, but I am not waiting to find out. We must take our leave while we still can."
Larsa's breath caught in his throat and he stood frozen for a moment before the sky-pirate gently placed a hand on the small of his back—urging him forward. "Let's go Emperor-ling, everyone is waiting." Basch took a small hand in his and smiled. "We are with you Lord Larsa."
The young lord nodded as they hurried surreptitiously about the upper floor, hearing the inn keeper try her best to keep whoever was downstairs from forcing their way up. Vaan pointed at an open window and the group made haste to climb up to it, throwing their packs first haphazardly.
"Too bad we couldn't stay longer, I totally felt like royalty in there!" Vaan chirped, still in high spirits even though they were practically on the run, treading lightly on the roofs of Archadian homes. Everyone seemed surprisingly capable of hopping from one roof to another, much to Balthier's surprise, except for the young lord who kept slipping and nearly falling as they went.
"I'm afraid you will have to carry him Basch, we will make better time that way—and he will be safer." The sky-pirate ruffled Larsa's hair as he went ahead, guiding the rest of the party. The boy nearly yelped as the captain lifted him easily, pulling him close to the older man's chest, as the latter ran light-footedly to catch up with the others.
"I suppose it is too much to ask for two days respite from Imperial pursuit when we have a Solidor on our hands." Basch said in good humour as they continued to run. Vaan, Penelo, and Ashe chimed with amused laughter, Balthier grunted in agreement, and Fran responded with her version of a smile. Larsa felt his cheeks burn as he squirmed slightly in Basch's arms. The young lord ventured a look upward, staring at the Captain's strong jaw and his blonde stubble. He unconsciously ran his hand on his smooth chin, a little disappointed at finding not even the slightest sign of growing any facial hair.
Without thinking, Larsa reached out and grazed said stubble with his fingertips. Basch stopped abruptly, surprised at the unexpected touch. The Solidor quickly withdrew his hand as if he had been burnt and looked up at Basch with apologetic cobalt eyes. "F-forgive me, I did not know what I was doing."
Basch shook his head and smiled, "I was merely startled. There is nothing to forgive my lord." Without another word, the Captain regained his pace, though a sudden dull ache made itself known in the most inopportune region and at a most inopportune time. Basch swallowed.
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Vaan leaned against the wall of the alley they had taken a break in, quite satisfied that they had put enough distance between them and the pursuing Imperials. "Wow, I'd give them credit if they're still on our tail after all that running!"
Penelo was bent over trying to catch her breath, one hand pressed against the same wall. "I should hope not, I'm tired and my legs feel like lead!" Ashe nodded her agreement, too tired to reply with words. Fran did not look as tired, but one could see that she was a little winded. Basch had set the young lord down and was sitting quietly as he caught his breath.
Balthier walked over to the Solidor who looked so ill-at-ease that he could not stop fidgeting from one foot to another. "Emperor-ling," The sky-pirate placed a hand on Larsa's shoulder and the latter nearly jumped out of his own skin in agitated surprise. "A word?" Balthier raised both brows in surprise at the unusual reaction, but decided to ask about it later.
Larsa walked stiffly to where they could talk semi-privately and he began to chew on his lip, refusing to look up at the sky-pirate. "Before we left, I heard from one of the bar maids that it was a Judge Magister that was searching for us back at the inn, not ordinary Imperials." Balthier looked with trained eyes as the young lord again shifted restlessly in his spot. "If Ghis and Bergan have already been defeated and Drace is no more, as you have said, and I am quite sure that Zargabaath would not pursue us... then who, pray tell Emperor-ling, are we up against?"
Larsa's head snapped back, blue eyes wide in realization. Balthier spoke the truth. Without Ghis, Bergan, Drace, or Zargabaath—there was only one Judge Magister left. Him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat and mouth ran dry. "It's him... Balthier! It's him!" The young lord's voice cracked as tears began to sting the corners of his eyes. The sky-pirate's lips drew taut. "It's Gabranth isn't it? He's finally come."
The Solidor heir buried his face in his hands and began to cry, the sudden pain in his chest seemingly unbearable. Basch was soon with them and he frowned at the sky-pirate. "What did you do Balthier?" The latter shouldered his gun and looked seriously at the captain. "The head of the Magisters is behind us, we must go at once—we cannot delay."
"They are tired, as are you and I—we cannot keep running. If he is to come, then we shall have to engage him in battle. There is no other way. I see in your eyes that you know this to be true." Basch hissed. Larsa's fingers tightened their hold on Basch's tunic at the mention of battle, and he silently wished that Gabranth would not come this far to retrieve him—at his brother's behest, no doubt.
Balthier shrugged. "I was hoping for an alternative. You are aware that we are in no condition to fight the Judge Magister they call Gabranth. We would be lucky to escape with our lives." The Captain felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at the truth of Balthier's words, but he stood steadfast as he held the young lord in his arms.
"Then we would have to be more than just lucky this time."
"Indeed."
The sound of the other members' shuffling caught their attention, and Balthier and Basch almost simultaneously turned their heads toward the noise. The sound of heavy footfalls rang in their ears as everyone tried to keep their breathing silent—the unmistakable grating of Magister armour rebounding clearly in the alleyway. He was close. So very close.
Strange, Fran thought as her ears twitched at the sound of footsteps, she had never heard of an Imperial walking alone—much less a Judge Magister. However, this one was alone, there was no mistaking it. "The Magister. He is alone." Fran stated flatly in a hushed tone.
"Then it'll be a piece of cake! It'll be all of us against one of him!" Vaan suddenly blurted out, clearly giving away their position. Everyone held their breath.
"I would think not." A cold, steely voice pierced the tense silence of the alley as the Judge Magister finally came into view—armour and helm intact, and double swords in hand. "I have come for Lord Larsa alone. If you release him quietly, I shall not pursue you. To decide otherwise would be most unwise."
Vaan drew his short sword at the challenge, "As I've said, there's only one of you and six of us—there's no way we're handing over Larsa to you!" Larsa grabbed Vaan's arm and shook his head, "Vaan, I shall go—I shall not let any of you risk your lives for my sake."
Penelo stepped in front of the young Solidor defensively. "No! I won't let him take you again!" Basch stepped forward as well. "Nor I." Balthier pinched the bridge of his nose before he chuckled softly. "It seems that we have decided. The young lord stays with us."
Fran drew her bow wordlessly and aimed an arrow squarely at the Judge Magister. Ashe drew her weapon as she took Larsa's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "We are with you Larsa, do not be afraid." The young lord was still crying, but he nodded at the princess' words as he took a step back—not daring to look at Gabranth.
"A most foolish choice." The words were barely spoken before Gabranth charged forward, striking Vaan's short sword heavily with one of his own. Vaan nearly gave in to the strength of the blow, but Penelo quickly countered by striking a blow of her own which the Magister quickly evaded. Fran released an arrow which was parried with ease and Balthier's bullet completely missed its mark due to Gabranth's speed.
"Such skill!" Ashe hissed as she tried her best to keep the young lord away from the advancing Magister, the rest of the party obviously having a difficult time doing the same. Basch held his long sword tightly before bringing it down heavily on one of Gabranth's swords.
"Enough play." Gabranth whirled his swords about, sending Basch crashing against the narrow alleyway's wall.
"Basch! No!" Larsa broke free from Ashe's grip as he rushed to where the Captain fell, completely forgetting the danger he was in.
Gabranth stood dumbfounded as he watched the Solidor rush to his brother's side... he felt a bitter pain in his chest and he clenched the hilts of his swords tighter—suddenly overcome with a murderous rage. The Magister charged at the beaten captain again, roughly pushing Larsa away, but not enough to actually hurt him. However, before he could drive his sword into Basch, an arrow pierced the leather of his armour, right below the shoulder—a weak spot—which sent Gabranth reeling backward.
Basch quickly regained his footing and, before the Judge could compose himself, struck Gabranth's helm with the broad side of his sword—unhinging the helm from the magister plate. Cobalt eyes stared back at strikingly identical ones and Basch found himself staring at what seemed to be... himself...?
"What the-?" Vaan's short sword fell on the stone street as he stared at the sight before him. Penelo clasped both hands to her mouth in shock. Ashe and Fran were speechless, as was Balthier. Larsa was the most shocked of all, blue eyes wide with realization as he stared at both men at such close proximity.
Gabranth was the first to recover from the initial shock of the situation, and with trained speed, sheathed his swords, grabbed his helm, and snatched the Solidor heir by the waist from where he stood before whisking him away before the rest of the party could pursue them.
The deathly silence that followed was pregnant with too many unspoken questions.
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Larsa stared at his hands as he sat stiffly on his seat on the airship, head bowed low—avoiding the sight of the Judge Magister who sat just across him, equally silent. There was only the sound of the engines which echoed in the room—no words... nothing aloud, but the tension in the air spoke volumes of what was left unsaid between them.
Gabranth ventured another look at the cabin door, and affirming to himself that it was locked, raised a hand tentatively to reach for the young lord's face. Larsa flinched at the sudden contact of a cool glove against his cheek, and he pressed a hand on the spot as if he had been stung. "Don't. Just... just don't." The Solidor whispered shakily as he bit his lip to keep himself from crying. He just could not take any more of this—the pain, the confusion, the rejection—it just had to stop.
"My lord..." Gabranth whispered as he reached out again, but Larsa would not let the Magister touch him as he turned farther away. The blonde sighed, knowing that he deserved every bit of the young lord's rejection—but it did not stop him from trying. "Lord Larsa... the bonds of our duties... of your position and mine... surely, you must understand."
At these words, Larsa felt his hands ball into fists—sadness suddenly turned into anger—and he drew his head up, staring at the Judge Magister with his intense cobalt gaze. "Understand? What do you know of understanding Gabranth? Did you not ask me if I trusted you—beyond the proprieties, beyond the duties of your position and mine? Did I not tell you that I did? Did I not tell you that I trusted you with my life? Did I not tell you all these things Gabranth? Did you not understand?" Larsa's voice shook as he spoke, cheeks flushed, and body quivering with emotion.
"I know you heard me as I wept outside your door. I know you heard me as I begged for you to let me in. I know you heard me when I told you that I loved you. And I know that you chose to do nothing! That is the kind of man you are Gabranth, I realize that now." The tears came and they began to roll freely down pale cheeks, but Larsa no longer cared. He just had to let it out—he had to let it all out, and finally let go.
"Look at me Gabranth and see what you have done. Know that the pain you have caused me will make me into a better man than you ever were, because I was strong enough to love you against the Empire and my kin—against the very nature of things."
Gabranth felt his lips quiver at the Solidor heir's words; they stabbed through him like red-hot iron. The wounds they left felt raw and he bled inside, the pain in his chest threatening to asphyxiate him. He did not want things to end this way—he longed for nothing more than to hold the young lord in his arms as he used to do—to kiss him as he did not too long ago, to love him as the Solidor heir had once freely offered to.
"Is your honor so great Gabranth? Tell me. Is this the price of honor that you have so willingly agreed to pay? Your honor is not enough to cover all the lies!"
The Judge Magister stood up abruptly, fingers curling against the hard wood of the table. "Hurt you I may have with my actions, but never have I lied to you my lord!"
Larsa choked back a sob. "Then tell me why have we come to this? Who am I to you Gabranth?"
"Because you are my lord, and who I truly am is someone unworthy of what we have shared."
"Whether you are worthy of what I offer is for me to decide!" Larsa shook his head as he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "It does not matter to me who you are to others, but only who you have been to me!"
"I have slain my own king, betrayed my own country, nearly killed my own brother, failed to protect the Emperor, and I have killed Drace by my own hand. I am a hound Lord Larsa, this is what I am! I have no honor left but that which comes with this office as Judge Magister and as your guardian." Gabranth raised his voice slightly at the surge of emotions that came with his words.
"And it is that same honor that drives us apart... Gabranth, I can no longer do this." The Solidor heir raised a hand to his chest which felt like it was ready to burst. "I cannot keep hoping that somehow, things will go back to the way they were. I know who you are Gabranth, and what you say you are—I know all of the things you have told me, and I have accepted all of you... as you are. But if my acceptance and my love is not enough to keep you—then help me... help me let you go... because my heart can no longer go on as it has. Tell me you do not love me as I do, it is the last thing I shall ask of you Gabranth."
"You would have me lie." The blonde hissed hoarsely as he removed his armoured gloves, their weight seemed to weigh down the rest of him as he sat back down—letting his fingers slide through his short blonde hair.
"I would have you tell me the truth. A parting gift." Larsa turned away, both wanting and fearing the words he asked for. It was the only way to end the bitter longing in his heart.
Strong arms wrapped themselves around the boy's fragile form and Larsa stiffened at the embrace. "No, do not do this Gabranth. Please... do not do this to me again." The Solidor heir begged as he tried to pull away, but failed. "You cannot keep doing this—you cannot keep pulling me back only to push me away again! Do not toy with me so!" Larsa wept bitterly as he looked accusingly at Gabranth who knelt in front of him, the latter's blue eyes not leaving his own.
"You cannot keep on doing this to me—I cannot push you away by myself..."
"If it is the truth that you ask of me..." Gabranth whispered as his lips ghosted over hot tears which rolled down flushed cheeks. "Understand that it is to be a confession of my sin and my shame—"
"I do not underst—" Larsa had barely opened his mouth before Gabranth's lips crashed against his own in a heated kiss, catching him off-guard. The blonde drew back, his eyes darkened with emotion and desire as he watched the Solidor heir regain his composure. "Lord Larsa... what I feel for you—this love—and this desire that burns through me..." Gabranth again pressed his lips against Larsa's, this time more demanding than the first, tongue slipping through slightly parted lips. The boy involuntarily moaned as the Magister claimed him with his mouth, fingers clutching desperately at cropped, golden hair.
"This." Gabranth sucked Larsa's lower lip until the boy turned his face away, a healthy blush clearly staining his cheeks. The blonde hauled the young lord and seated him on the table before bringing his lips dangerously close to a sensitive ear, breathing heavily, making Larsa whimper involuntarily as a shiver ran through him. He did not understand what was happening, but he could not bring himself to move away.
The Magister smiled against the shell of the small ear before he whispered hotly, "This is my sin." Larsa's eyes went wide as he felt ghost-light fingers slip beneath his tunic, setting a trail of fire on his already feverish skin. "G-gabranth I—ahh..." Larsa hissed as the Magister's tongue swirled around the shell of his ear, involuntarily arching against the older man. Gabranth pulled the young lord taut against his body, moulding their bodies together—wanting the Solidor heir to feel his desire. "This is my shame..."
Larsa curled his fingers tightly around Gabranth's forearms, as he looked up with glazed eyes at his Judge Protector—the other's words barely registering in his fogged mind. The sensations that were coursing through him sent his mind reeling and he could barely contain the moans which escaped his lips as Gabranth's fingers traced lightly over his chest and stomach. "G-gabranth.. please..." For what he begged for, Larsa did not know—only that he felt as if he was standing on a precipice, waiting for something—anything...
"What is it that you ask of me, my lord...?" Gabranth hissed as he pressed his hips insistently against the boy's thigh, eyes sliding shut as an unrestrained moan escaped the Solidor's lips. Larsa arched against the Magister's chest, head thrown back, exposing his smooth pale neck—the invitation was not left unanswered. Gabranth pressed hungry lips against the exposed flesh, nipping lightly before trailing with his tongue. He wanted this—he had wanted this for too long... "My lord, do you feel me... do you feel my desire for you?" Gabranth asked huskily as he pushed up Larsa's tunic past his chest.
Lara could barely hear Gabranth's words over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, but he felt his cheeks burn in a mixture of embarrassment and desire. He tried to pull his tunic back down in an attempt to hide the evidence of his apparently growing desire. Gabranth's intense gaze sent shivers down Larsa's body, pooling at the pit of his belly and he tried to look away, but a firm hand kept him from turning his head away and Larsa blushed an even deeper shade of crimson.
A small, uncharacteristic smile tugged at the edge of Gabranth's lips as he pulled the tunic open, letting it fall over slender shoulders, gathering at Larsa's bent shoulders. Again, Larsa looked up at him with pleading eyes, and Gabranth nearly lost it. The blonde buried his face in the crook between the boy's neck and shoulder and lapped at the sensitive skin beneath his lips. Larsa cried out at the sensation as he pulled his legs together in a desperate attempt to hide his growing problem. However, Gabranth was almost too far gone and he slid a strong arm between the boy's legs and pried them apart. Larsa looked away, tears in his eyes from shame for he could no longer hide it... he felt so vulnerable and embarrassed, almost half undressed in front of his Judge Protector—not because of the position they were in (though it made up a big part of it) but moreso because he did not want the older man to stop.
"D-D-Don't look... " Larsa pleaded as he again tried to pull his legs together, but Gabranth had pressed a hand firmly upon his upper thigh, intent on keeping them as they were. The blonde's face loomed dangerously close to Larsa's, their lips barely touching. "Why... why hide from me? Are you ashamed...?"
Larsa suddenly realized what everything Gabranth was doing was all about, and he bit his lip as he shook his head. "No. I am not ashamed..." The blonde pressed his forehead against Larsa's own and he gave a resigned smile. "Lord Larsa Ferinnas Solidor... you are impossible." "As you are, Judge Magister Gabranth." Larsa pulled himself up and pressed his lips lightly over the blonde's. "As you are."
Again, lips met hungrily, bodies grinding shamelessly, and tongues dancing languidly with each other. All the pent up emotions and desires spilled forth into actions as desperate fingers clutched, pulled, and squeezed almost frantically in between soft gasps and stifled moans. Gabranth's fingers traced lightly from the flushed skin of Larsa's chest down to his smooth stomach, until they lingered at the top of the young lord's trousers—as if waiting.
Larsa bit his lip as he blushed anew, though he could no longer hide his desire, having Gabranth so close to him made it even harder to ignore. Gabranth cradled Larsa's head in one hand as he leaned against the table, his body almost covering the whole of Larsa's own. He kissed the top of the boy's head as he whispered against Larsa's skin. "My lord... will you... will you let me..." Gabranth trailed off as his other hand shamelessly grasped the boy's arousal through the thin fabric of his trousers making Larsa cry out in surprise—eyes wide at the boldness of Gabranth's actions.
The pink color from Larsa's cheeks seemed to spread down his neck and to all the skin then exposed to Gabranth's view, and the way the boy writhed beneath him was almost enough to make the soldier lose all his self-control. Larsa bit into his knuckle to stifle another moan as he nodded shakily, looking away from Gabranth, too embarrassed to meet the older man's gaze.
Gabranth captured the Solidor's lips once more, slipping his tongue into the welcoming heat and drowning himself in Larsa's taste. By the gods, the boy was addicting—and by the way the young lord moaned and pressed up against him, it was too much of a sin, but one which Gabranth had been permitted to commit, and he was more than glad to oblige. He tightened his hold on the young lord's desire which made Larsa arch off the table, eyes rolling back as a string of non-coherent whispers passed through kiss-swollen lips.
"I need... I need you—Gabranth please... please do something..." Larsa cried out in desperation as he tried to stay his hips which seemed to press up against the older man's touch on its own volition. The shame he felt was slowly melting away as pleasure flooded his senses... there was only this—only Gabranth and this desire... this love that they shared... and he wanted it all.
Gabranth, for the life of him, could barely think straight, and the young lord begging beneath him did not help the situation. Had he been less trained, he would have taken the young lord right on the table of the airship cabin even before they even reached the Imperial Palace, but he respected Lord Larsa and would not subject him to such a thing.
Going against every nerve in his body, Gabranth pulled himself upright, helping the young lord sit up on the table before gingerly pulling Larsa's tunic over his slight shoulders and lacing it closed with less than agile fingers. A small hand held Gabranth's own, stopping it from its work. The Judge Magister kissed Larsa's palm gently, smiling against it. "Soon my lord, we are nearly home."
Larsa nodded mutely and let Gabranth finish lacing up his tunic, purposely averting his eyes as a sudden wave of renewed embarrassment washed over him. Gabranth gathered the young lord in a tight embrace.
"Do you accept this hound... this criminal—because after this, you must know Lord Larsa, that I shall no longer let you go."
"I accept this man, fully as he is—his past, his present, and his future if he shall choose to have me in it." Larsa whispered as he pulled himself tighter against his guardian. "There is only you Gabranth... and I do not intend to let you go either."
The abrupt knock on the steel door of the cabin signalled their arrival at the Imperial dock. Larsa refused to let go of his guardian's hand, suddenly afraid that the whole trip had been a dream and that he would wake up and find himself alone again. Gabranth squeezed the young lord's hand as he made to open the door, careful to hide the latter behind his armoured form.
"We dock in 2 minutes Master Judge, I hope you had a pleasant, albeit short, journey." The captain said through the small gap by the cabin door. A small smile made its way to Gabranth's lips.
"Yes, a pleasant trip. Quite a pleasant one indeed."
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I had to cut the chapter before it necessitated a drastic rating change! Haha.
But seriously, I wasn't letting something that special happen on a table—in an airship. Really.
Not much to say but to thank my reviewers, you have all been my inspiration. :)
So... well... uhmm... it's safe for everyone who is reading this story to assume that the next chapter will be of a different rating. Yes, yes, I know—it's about time. Lol. :P But seriously, yeah, rating jump for next chapter for sure.
Till then,
Seph