So we begin the Taejin's Tower arc, and one would hope that it doesn't take me as long to get through as the Mah'habara Subterra one. Words cannot describe how difficult this chapter was to write, and how many scenes/words/hours were scrapped because it just wasn't coming together. Those who've been to my LJ have probably heard this all before, so at long last, I hope that my efforts have resulted in something at least a little satisfactory.
If not, well, be sure to let me know.
Sulyya Springs
The group of l'Cie were weary by the time they dragged themselves from the last tunnels, and into the fading light of day. Taking point, Lightning couldn't help the small sigh of relief that passed her lips as cool, fresh air stirred her hair and eased the tension between her shoulder blades. No more darkness and fear, or cramped and tiny corridors.
Lightning never thought she'd miss the Archylte Steppe, but it was amazing what ten hours underground could do to a woman. She glanced quickly behind her. The rest of the l'Cie looked just as glad to be free of the tunnels as she felt, if Hope's slow smile and Snow's drained fist-pump were any indication.
"Hey. Lightning. You mind if we call it quits now? I know we gotta get to Oerba, but… I'm beat." Sazh's voice was tired, and he loudly cracked his back with a pained wince. His chocobo chick chirped and floated on the breeze to one of Vanille's pigtails. The Pulsian girl nodded in agreement, but didn't move from her position at Fang's shoulder.
"I can't even make a fist anymore," Snow added, massaging the knuckles of one hand with a grimace. "Lucky that I'm a pro with blizzards, because if I don't get this on ice, it'll hurt like bitch tomorrow. Damn robots, messing with me…"
"I could probably use a break, too." Hope tried his best to make it sound like he'd be more than happy with pressing on anyway. Lightning wasn't fooled – he'd survived a solo round against that juggernaut. She was proud of him, but his exhaustion was obvious.
As for herself… For once, it seemed that Fang's irritating gloating had been correct. The creatures and robotic militia they'd encountered in the Mah'habara Subterra had been an entirely different level from what they'd seen in the Vallis Media and the Steppe. If things were going to get worse from here, they could all use extra time to prepare before pressing onwards.
"Fine, we rest here for the night," Lightning said, and turned to Fang and Snow without missing a beat. "Fang, Snow, we're going to go clear out this area–"
Fang's derisive snort cut across Lightning's orders, drawing all attention to her. Fang's expression was closed off, and it soured Lightning's mood further.
Of course. Things were not back to normal, no matter how much Lightning wished it was so. It was far too easy to fall into old patterns of behaviour, into letting herself rely on Fang too much again. Despite the lingering rawness following their confrontation, Lightning apparently just couldn't help herself.
Lightning made a sound of irritation in her throat. It was a reliance that she'd have to reconsider, because things were never going to go back to the way they'd been. Lightning had waited too long.
Fang had been deadly quiet since the Eidolon battle in the flower fissure. Lightning hadn't pushed her. She'd kept her distance, waiting until Fang had a chance to sort through her emotions and come to understand that this couldn't happen now.
They just needed a little space between them, Lightning told herself as she watched Fang. That was all.
Fang wasn't even looking in Lightning's direction any more, and she'd turned her back on the group of l'Cie. Still lingering at Fang's side, Vanille looked somewhat conflicted by her sister's change in attitude. When Lightning tried to catch her eye, Vanille shot her a hurt look and sharply shook her head. No, Vanille did not understand. Neither was Vanille going to forgive this so easily.
It didn't matter, Lightning decided as she scowled. Whatever. Vanille could deal with Fang, because she was more than welcome to that mess.
"Maybe I'll help you out later, Lightning." Fang's tone seemed normal enough. It was almost like she didn't have a care in the world, as if she wasn't still reeling from their discussion. "I got things I need to deal with, first. Unless you guys don't wanna eat…?"
"Uh, sure we wanna eat?" Snow replied, scratching the back of his neck and looking a little bewildered by her question.
"Then I think you're just gonna have to manage," Fang told them, harshly, as she looked over her shoulder and met Snow's gaze. There was an undercurrent of anger and bitterness to her voice. "Without me babysitting you lot."
And with that final, venomous announcement, Fang strode back into the Mah'habara Subterra.
Lightning exhaled sharply, resting a hand on her hip and watching Fang vanish into the darkness again. That simmering anger was no more than Lightning deserved, really, for having led the woman on for as long as she had.
"Whatever," Lightning said, scowling to cover her discomfort. "Sazh, Snow, give me a hand scouting out the area. Hope, Vanille… Go and make sure she doesn't do something stupid and reckless."
Lightning thought she heard Fang scoff in the distance, and then turned back to the others. There'd be time to deal with Fang's anger and hurt. Just… not right now. Night would be falling soon, and frankly she had enough to deal with until then.
Lightning closed her eyes as she felt Fang's lips and tongue brush a sensitive spot on the side of her throat. Her fingertips lazily traced the sinewy muscles of Fang's forearms, running over the leather warrior's band that Fang wore on her right bicep and to the frozen brand on her shoulder. The skin felt scarred and rough under her touch, and she heard Fang's sharp intake of breath, before she caught the huntress's lips again in a heated kiss.
Lightning could feel the harshness of Fang's breath against her neck when the huntress broke away abruptly, felt Fang's thigh easing between her own as she savoured the way Fang was losing herself.
Twitching to awareness as she heard buckles cinch undone, she felt Fang's fingers at her throat again. Lightning nodded quickly to something that Fang whispered hotly against her ear, more than eager to follow Fang's suggestion, no matter what it was -
Lightning's eyes snapped open and she sat up with a strangled gasp. Her sweaty hair clung to the back of her neck, and she felt hot and clammy and aching all at once, and Eden it was both wonderful and disastrous. With a groan, Lightning flung her blankets away, needing to feel cool air against her skin.
Her brand felt tight, and she was finding it difficult to breathe. Lightning's entire body still ached deeply from the dream, and it was clamouring for more of the same until it found sweet release-
Lightning stilled, listening to the sound of the water bubbling around the small island they'd made camp on, to the reassuring crackle of the fire nearby. If she looked upwards, though, the Sulyya Springs ceiling gaped open, and she could see the distant glow of Cocoon, surrounded by a sea of natural stars.
The sight of her home, even though it was so far away, made her feel a little less strangled by her brand and the weight of her Focus. Frustratingly, the reassuring sight did little to ease the tense ache between her shoulder blades and thighs.
She'd thought that this kind of thing would stop, once she'd ended things with Fang. Lightning knew she could handle the occasional bursts of lust she had for the woman, and Lightning could – and would – deal with the way her heart was refusing to agree with her mind. But these dreams, they were the worst part, and they were a sign that she really was out of control.
Irritably, she cast about for something to distract herself with.
She still had Serah to rescue, Lightning reminded herself, and she'd need all of her willpower to see that her sister was revived from crystal stasis. There was Barthandelus, and his sickening plan to turn one of them into Ragnarok and destroy the world. To get one of them to open the door to the hidden world, or something. She didn't really understand the whys or hows of his plan, only that she intended on defying it to the end.
"Hey. You all right, Sis?"
Snow's words startled her from thoughts, and Lightning kicked herself. In her distraction from the dream, she'd forgotten that there'd be a sentry up. How much of her unrest had she given away? Lightning met Snow's eyes from across the fire. The better question was, she amended, how much Snow had picked up.
"I'm fine," Lightning told him in a low voice. "Just some strange dreams. Nothing unusual."
The lie sounded obvious to her ears, but Snow nodded slowly, as if it explained everything.
"Ragnarok?" Snow asked, still nodding to himself as he slung an arm across his knee. He looked up to Cocoon, probably towards where he believed Serah would be. "Man, just wish those dreams would leave us alone already. We're not gonna do it."
Lightning was silent, watching him over the fire. Humour and blind optimism, those had always been Snow's tools in fighting off the creeping despair that dogged them all. Did those visions of Ragnarok still haunt him? Since coming to Pulse, she hadn't really given the original dream much thought. Or rather, Lightning supposed as she shot a glance towards Fang slept, she'd had other things on her mind.
Yawning widely, Snow snatched Lightning's attention back as he jerked a thumb towards her. "You keep banging on about us getting rest while we can, so maybe you should try to get some shut-eye. Or I am seriously making you switch places with me, because I am beat."
"You're right," Lightning told him softly. She had been pushing them too hard, and those of their group that weren't used to these conditions were suffering for it. "We'll be resting here tomorrow. Things are only going to get more dangerous from here on out."
"Good to hear. Well, uh, not the whole bit about things getting harder. But we could really use the break." Snow looked thoughtful now, and satisfied that she'd soothed any suspicions he might have had, Lightning rolled over.
She faced the cooling darkness, listening to the gurgle of the springs and trying to will her mind back to sleep. Tomorrow they'd lose another day to the Focus, another day before they could reach possible help at Oerba. How much longer could they delay, before the first of them began to turn into undead monsters? Lightning's brand ached constantly these days. It was all arrowed and hideous when she checked, but not any more than Snow's, Sazh's or Hope's.
Fang could probably tell them how much longer they had, Lightning knew, but the huntress wasn't exactly talkative these days.
"Hey, Sis. You still awake?" Snow asked, slowly, interrupting her thoughts again. Unbothered by his question, Lightning pushed herself to a sitting position – thinking on the brand wasn't exactly the material that made for sweet dreams. She could use the distraction, if she was going to be honest. Lightning sat herself on the rocky ground beside him, and waited for him to speak.
"It's about Fang. She… seems really tense," Snow told her, wincing slightly as Lightning's eyes narrowed.
Of course it has to be about Fang, Lightning noted sourly as she glanced over to where the other woman was sleeping. Maybe I relaxed too soon.
"And what am I supposed to do about it?" Lightning asked, her voice deceptively calm as she looked back towards Snow. The man scrubbed a hand through his messy blond hair nervously, seeming to sense the rising tension. Lightning supposed she had to give Snow more credit – maybe he did have more self-awareness than a rock.
That didn't change the fact that Snow was broaching a very sensitive topic.
"Well… I don't really know," Snow said, haltingly, in what he probably considered an appeasing tone. "But you're usually pretty good at kicking her out of her funks, right? I mean, think about it. The Palamecia, even in the Ark. She was going to give up, and you stopped her."
He nodded then, seeming more sure of himself now. Whether the result was something he blundered into or not, Lightning had to admit it. Sometimes, Snow could bring up a good point.
"Somehow, I doubt she'll talk to me," Lightning muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose and sighing.
Snow tilted his head, squinting at her in confusion. "Uh, why not? Give yourself a little cred. You're more to this team than you think. You're… you're like the rock."
"The rock," Lightning repeated the words, arching an eyebrow. Was he planning on qualifying that ridiculous statement?
"You know. To Hope, and me, and… well, even Fang. Probably not so much to Vanille or Sazh, but – scratch that." Snow sucked in a breath when he paused to reorder his thoughts. Maybe he wouldn't shove his foot in his mouth, this time.
"What I was trying to say is, if not for you, maybe we wouldn't have even made it this far. Maybe we would have self-destructed. Who knows? But that's something, right?"
Lightning was silent, watching the glow of the embers as the fire consumed the fuel. Poorly worded or not, she understood what Snow meant. Consciously or not, she'd tried to hold them together. She'd tried to give them all something to hold onto, to make Snow's insane declarations seem a little more feasible.
Working plans, goals, missions – it became easier to paint an optimistic future for the rest of the l'Cie, when they were given a tangible goal.
"So, I think that you can fix whatever's wrong with Fang. You usually do." Snow laughed a little, then. "Beat it into her, if you have to. You're good at that."
"You seem oddly concerned." Lightning's voice was sharp, and her gaze cut back towards him again. Just how much did he know? How much did he guess about the nature of her… unique relationship with Fang? Or was it all an innocent coincidence? She'd have to stop being so sloppy with her emotions, Lightning told herself as she watched Snow's reactions carefully.
"Well, for one, Fang's my friend, but I suppose I have my motives." There was no guile in his expression, as he grinned over at her. He really had no idea of just how much he was winding her up by dwelling on this subject, she realized.
"Truth is, acting like she was earlier on… It sounds so callous, but I don't want her bringing the morale of the group down. You and me, we've done too much to get people to think positive." He slammed a fist into his palm. "Can't let it all go to waste, right?"
"True enough," Lightning agreed quietly. He didn't understand the full story, nor Fang's reasons for acting that way, but he had a point.
Group cohesion, and the positivity they'd been attempting to foster, was far greater than any individual spat she and Fang were having. Fang's attitude was jeopardizing it, so as the group's leader, there was really no other option available to her.
Whether Lightning liked it or not, tomorrow she'd would have a talk with Fang about it.
So much for giving her space.
Lightning slept fitfully for the rest of the night, and it was only in the pale hours of the early morning that she finally dozed off. Her body seemed to have taken a vengeance in catching up on the lost hours, though, because Lightning awoke to find that the morning was well under way.
A quick interrogation of Hope – even though Lightning was still blinking back the rawness and sleepiness from her eyes – revealed that Snow had made an executive decision to let her sleep in. Apparently, she'd looked like she needed it.
Releasing Hope's shoulder from her grasp, Lightning had to admit that she certainly felt like she needed another ten hours of rest. But on Gran Pulse, that was a luxury that none of them could afford. They had to keep training, and they had to keep moving and when they got to Oerba…
Eden only knew what they'd find there.
Not that I'm ungrateful for Snow's decision, Lightning amended with the hint of a smile, as she scanned her group. As she'd expected, Snow was poking at the fire, Sazh was fixing her a breakfast of last night's leftovers, and Hope was sitting on the ground nearby, upgrading his weapons with the handful of components he'd scrounged up the day before.
As Lightning began to sip at the thin broth that Sazh handed her, her mood darkened as she noted the conspicuous absence of both Fang and Vanille. Lightning scanned the hills around the springs quickly – she couldn't see a sign of either Pulsian, she realized with a silent sigh. Fantastic.
"Where's Fang?" Lightning asked Hope quietly. Belatedly, she added, "And Vanille?"
"They left early this morning. Really early. I was barely awake!" Hope told her, not pausing in his duties as he modified his array of boomerangs. "Kinda funny to see Fang up so early, you know? Usually you have to drag her out of her blankets."
"That's certainly true," Lightning said, wryly, as she finished the last dregs of the tasteless soup.
"Yeah, she didn't even want me to back them up, said she only wanted Vanille with her. How strange is that?" Hope asked, finally looking up and meeting Lightning's gaze. "Fang's real edgy at the moment. While she made it sound nice enough, she had this real predatory look about her. I knew that if I valued my head, I wasn't going to force the issue."
"Oh, I know that look," Sazh added, sinking down next to Hope and beginning to upgrade his own guns with the components that Hope had ditched. "Started getting it in the Ark, before soldier-girl here knocked some sense into her. The way you told her to get her ass into gear and defeat that Eidolon… blunt, but effective."
Sounds a lot like what Snow was talking about, last night, Lightning noted, and she made a small sound of annoyance. I wonder.
Her gaze cut back towards where Snow was sitting by the fire. He had the gall to attempt to look entirely innocent, raising his hands as if to ward off Lightning's suspicion.
"Y'see, sis?" Snow said, and he laughed and tossing his stick into the fire. "Like I said last night. You got this."
If that statement wasn't enough to tip Lightning off to the group's little conspiracy, the identical expressions of pure innocence on Sazh's and Hope's faces were. She wondered, again, just how much they suspected – if anything.
"How flattering," Lightning told them, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. Fact was, nobody else was willing to take the blow and talk to Fang, so that left the task up to her. Even if they were pulling this ridiculous 'charisma' stunt, their bravery concerning Fang's moods was astounding.
"You lot just don't have the balls to deal with her."
"Hey, if the shoe fits." Sazh shrugged, not missing a beat. Of the lot of them, his eyes were too knowing.
Lightning sighed, seating herself on the spring's edge to begin to maintain and polish her blazefire saber. As she ran an oil-cloth over the exposed chambers of her weapon, she frowned to herself.
Last night, Snow had made a good point, and it had only been reinforced this morning. His persistence in following this issue up, indicated that he considered it important enough to nag her. Involving the other two only clarified his position, and made clear his sense of urgency.
They walked a knife edge these days, between sanity and eternity as the undead. The brand on her chest tightened at the thought.
Lightning scrubbed at the filth that had worked its way into the mechanisms of her dualweapon, cursing silently. There was nothing for it. Lightning would have to talk to Fang about everything, and soon. She couldn't say she was looking forwards to that conversation, either.
Lightning knew Fang was angry and hurting. She knew that things weren't the same. But a part of her wondered – if she went to Fang now, tried to make things right, would she lose herself in her emotions again and give too much of herself?
No matter Lightning's feelings on the matter, she'd been designated the leader of their group. It was up to her to deal with any problems. And truth was, it would be easier to push back against Fang's anger, than it was to yield to her weakness.
That was right. She just had to think of it as a mission, as something that Amodar or one of the other lieutenants had entrusted her with. Lightning's gaze fell on the shadowed entrance to the subterra.
There'd be no backing down, not this time.
She really wasn't fighting out of anger or hatred, Fang decided as she and Vanille moved silently through the subterra once more, heading south. It was back towards the flower fissure and the place where her entire worldview had changed, and Fang ignored the involuntary way her stomach clenched at the memories.
No. It was really more an effort to soothe herself, futile as was, from the pain, the bitterness, and the worry. Those all-too familiar feelings dwarfed any anger she might have felt. Those feelings… they were exactly what Fang was running from.
Fang wasn't angry at Lightning, no matter how brusque she'd been with the soldier the day before. And of course she'd been hurting! Every time Fang looked at Lightning it just felt worse – but it would be deluded to say that the rejection was the sole reason for Fang's current state. Her life didn't revolve around Lightning bloody Farron. Because right now? Fang felt like she was drowning in her memories of the War of Transgression, in Ragnarok and the evidence of her failure.
That was what ate at her every thought, until she wanted to throw her head back and scream.
Fang had just needed to leave the Springs, to leave Lightning and the evidence of her ravaged world behind, or she'd snap and do something she'd regret. Fang's grip tightened on her spear as she picked her way across a crumbling bridge.
Fighting to clear her head had always been a good option, even back before, and so Fang had decided to take Vanille on a few impromptu hunts.
Really. There was nothing like a rousing battle to wake you up and stir the blood! The more desperate the struggle for survival, the better Fang's mood would be. She snorted softly, shaking her head as she assisted Vanille across the next gap in their path.
Foolish as it was, she'd go head to head with any monster short of a juggernaut. Fang needed the challenge, and the blessed freedom from thought that she craved.
She'd do anything, just to be rid of the all-consuming paranoia that dogged her, the fear and the creeping feeling of hopelessness that grew stronger with every passing hour. Sharing a reassuring smile with Vanille as they forged deeper into the subterra, Fang had to admit that having Vanille there, battling by her side, really did help matters.
Etro, if it weren't for the ruins of their old world, this would have almost felt like old times, just two l'Cie against the world. But old times didn't really stir the fondest memories within her, and when Fang looked back, she could see just as much bad as there was good. So, sure. Vanille's presence helped. But at the moment, it just wasn't enough.
Fang sighed. The worst part was, she knew that Vanille's presence hadn't been enough to stop the fear last time. And just look where that had gotten them.
Squinting, Fang spotted a trio of flans in the subterra's path. She forced a smirk that she couldn't feel – the beasties weren't all that far from their position. That big one in the middle could be a challenge…
Wordlessly, Fang raised her free hand, making an old Pulsian sign with her fingers to warn her sister of the dangers up ahead. She quickly glanced backwards, to make sure that Vanille had read the sign correctly.
Vanille had obediently raised her rod, but her expression was flat, and her face was a little worn and tired. From the crease in her brow and the tight press of her lips, Fang could tell that Vanille was worried. Probably for Fang, or maybe it was for the steadily-advancing brands of the other l'Cie, or maybe it was for this empty world that Fang just knew she'd caused as Ragnarok –
Fang clenched her jaw, turning back to her prey.
Just let it go already. Fight, if that's what it's gonna take. I'll fight 'til I can't fight any longer. And then I'll fight some more.
With a wordless roar, Fang sprinted for the flans, ignoring Vanille's startled shout. Her lance cut across the first flan in a wide arc, a strike that was hard enough to shear through bone but not enough to damage the gelatinous sludge of a body. The uselessness of her blow drove her onwards, spurred her on to fight even harder and faster. She flung herself into battle, before her mind could turn on her again. She fought to stop the stinging in her brand and the crushing feeling of despair –
But she. Couldn't. Stop. Thinking.
With every hour that passed, she remembered the War of Transgression more clearly. The victories, the losses, her mistakes and all that violence. If she closed her eyes, she could see the faces of comrades, both l'Cie and human. They were people she'd worked with, who'd counted on her to win the war and free them from the vipers and fal'Cie up on Cocoon.
They'd had faith in her, they'd trusted her, and what had happened? They'd all been wiped from existence by her failure. Fang tightened her hold on her spear and reversed her next strike against the flans, her breath becoming a little ragged as she fought more furiously. The blade finally cut deeply into the jelly, probably courtesy of Vanille's quick stagger, but Fang gave a self-satisfied whoop regardless.
Fang smoothly ducked the next clumsy blow by the flan, and didn't miss a beat as she rammed her spear up and into the delicate brain cavity that gave the ooze sentience. The flan shuddered and began to melt, but Fang was already moving to her next target. Maybe this one would be more of a challenge. Maybe.
Fang deftly avoided the string of spells that Vanille sent to harry the flan, leaping high into the air before slamming her spear down in a powerful strike. Again, it wasn't enough! Before the monsters could recover themselves from Highwind's impact, Fang had forced herself to keep moving, to keep fighting even harder, but still her mind kept drifting back.
There were her old comrades, but that wasn't even the worst of it. There was Oerba. Etro, but what had she done to Oerba? Fang's breath came hard as she pivoted to turn on the final flan. There was only one reason she could see for the group to continue this insane quest across the continent. To see, with her own eyes, what she'd done to the old orphanage, to her old friends and her home.
Cocoon, the ancient enemy. Vipers, the hedonistic heathens in the sky and the ones Fang had been tasked with wiping out. She'd had no problem with it, once. The Ragnarok Focus had been an honour, no matter Vanille's fear and reluctance. When it had all come down to it, the Focus hadn't been just an honour, but a necessity. Fang had to take the satellite from the sky, or Gran Pulse would lose the War.
Fang had never expected to fail, nor had she realized what the consequences of failure would be…
Somehow, those vipers had stopped her attack. Fang's brand stung again. So really, they were the ones to blame for Gran Pulse's current state. Blaming Cocoon felt natural, even right.
Fang frowned, not hesitating as she dispatched the last of the flans. But there was something different, now. Since working with these Cocoon-bred l'Cie, she'd come to realize that vipers weren't all that bad.
That recollection was enough to draw Fang away from her morbid ruminations, and back into the present.
Fang's chest heaved, her throat was burning, and there was the stench of death all around – just like so long ago – but she was back again. Fang blinked the sweat back from her eyes, and she sheathed her spear on her back.
Her breath normalized quickly, but she had to wonder. Just how far had she been gone that time? She'd been so absorbed into the struggle of the fight, but even then, it hadn't been enough to put an end to those hateful thoughts.
Just how much more was it going to take, before she got a little peace?
It just meant that she had to hunt down a bigger challenge, Fang realized as she walked back over to Vanille. She needed something that would make her fight for her survival. Something to stop her from thinking back on stuff she couldn't even change! Anything.
Fang ran a critical eye over Vanille, checking for any injuries. Her sister was whole, even if a little breathless, but what really struck Fang was the whiteness in Vanille's face, the sudden uncertainty in her eyes. The last time that Vanille had looked like that, had been –
"Fang… can we head back already?" Vanille asked, softly, her brows knitting together in a frown as she toyed with her rod's hooks. "Please?"
Head back? Now? How exactly was Fang going to put her problems behind her if they just up and turned back? She shook her head at Vanille's pleading look. Maybe the next fight would be the jackpot. Maybe Lady Luck would be on her side, and they'd unearth another juggernaut.
The less insane part of her paused at that. 'Luck' and 'juggernaut' rarely existed in the same sentence, except for when they were accompanied by 'bad'.
"I'm not done," Fang told Vanille firmly, crossing her arms against her chest and beginning to travel deeper into the subterra.
She couldn't hear Vanille following along, though, and Fang looked back over her shoulder. Vanille was still frowning, her weapon now stored at her hip, and looking very determined not to move another step. Fang groaned inwardly.
"Fang."
Fang really wasn't going to win this one, was she? When Vanille got that certain look about her, even the fal'Cie wouldn't be able to stand by their convictions…
Bloody kitten stare. Sighing, Fang walked back over to her sister, clapping her on the shoulder.
"Alright already. Sheesh. What's gotten into you all of a sudden?" Fang asked, trying to make her voice sound light, or maybe a little playful, but Vanille just shook her head.
Fang let her false cheerfulness drop again, and they began to travel back towards the Sulyya Springs. Fang really didn't want to go back, not yet. Not when she was still as tense as a fal'Cie's priest, only far more likely to lash out and hurt some innocent bystander. Vanille knew her mood. Why was she making them go back?
Not long after Lightning had begun to clean and maintain her dualweapon, Snow had convinced Hope to assist him in heroic exploration and the reclamation of Pulsian territory. Had she been there, Fang would have had more than a few harsh words with him. Nobody called Gran Pulse 'hell' while she was listening, nor spoke about 'reclaiming lost land'.
Lightning sighed as she adjusted some of the calibrations on her weapon. Or, before yesterday, that's how it had been. It had almost been reassuring, and that fire and constant defense of her home world had been things that Lightning had come to expect from Fang.
Snow had been right. Fang's mood had darkened significantly, and it really was bringing the rest of the group down…
Sazh, who always had the good sense to stay out of Snow's schemes, sat at the fire beside her, toying with his guns and practicing his Ruin spell on a few loose rocks in the spring's wall. Since the other two l'Cie had left, almost half an hour ago, Sazh had been quiet, but thoughtful.
Lightning also remained silent, waiting for him to say his piece. If he had the balls to say it, anyway. She remembered the look of realization he'd worn yesterday. He probably knew, all too well, what was wrong with Fang.
By the time Lightning began to meticulously sharpen the edges of her weapon, Sazh had begun to clear his throat.
Nice timing, she noted, running the old-fashioned oilstone down the length of the blazefire's edge.
"So, how goes things?" Sazh's voice seemed oddly hesitant, for asking such a mundane question, so Lightning supposed that there'd be more to it.
"Tomorrow, we're going to start climbing Taejin's Tower. You ready?" Looking up from her weapon, Lightning's gaze cut towards that darkened, looming tower in the distance.
The broken spire had once been called Taejin's Tower, she'd heard Vanille tell Hope yesterday. It had been a monument to Gran Pulse, a way of reaching for the heavens and proving that they didn't have to be vipers to touch the sky. Now, it was nothing but another broken husk, unable to stand the test of the War of Transgression and rotted by the passage of time.
There were no points for guessing that the remains were crawling with cie'th and monsters. At this point, Lightning just chalked it up as just another hellish day on Gran Pulse, though she'd never voice it aloud. She just had to take the challenges as they came.
Lightning heard Sazh snort softly to himself, and it drew her attention back to their haphazard encampment.
"Yeah. Getting itchy to move this show along, but that wasn't what I was asking." Sazh suddenly paused, looking pained as Lightning resumed her task. "You… you mind not doing that while I'm talking? Makes me feel like you're trying to think of the best way to stick that oversized army knife into me."
Lightning's lips twitched into a half-smile. "That really depends on what you're going to ask me."
"…well, that's not the most reassuring thing I've heard all day," Sazh complained, running his fingers through his afro and frowning. He sighed, and then continued. "But, things between you and Fang… they seem a little rougher than usual."
Lightning didn't hesitate in her long, smooth motions. "They're always rough."
"Mm, and I get that, I really do," Sazh said, raising a hand to forestall her next words. "But seriously, Light. She's been acting like a storm cloud ever since that little chat she had with Vanille, and… I wondered if you had some idea of what's gone wrong."
Lightning let the silence go on for a moment, to make him sweat a little.
Of course he'd figured out what had gone wrong, Lightning thought. Sazh had already known that there'd been something between her and Fang. After their night on the Steppe, and the fallout from their conversation following the juggernaut fight, he'd have to have been blind and cognitively impaired not to have some idea.
Drawing the stone firmly along the blade, Lightning glanced over to the subterra's entrance, to where Fang had vanished with Vanille.
"She just heard something that she didn't really want to hear. Must have been hard." Lightning spoke the words calmly, but they felt robotic to her own ears. It was a trained, detached response, one devoid of her own feelings on the matter. At least she was starting to get her emotions under control again.
"Of course," Sazh agreed, but he still looked slightly troubled by Lightning's answer. "But I thought that you two were close. Like this."
Crossing his fingers, he imitated the crude gesture that Snow had made before, while the group had rested at the fissure. In spite of herself, it brought to mind the feel of Fang's lips against hers, the crush of skin against skin and the feeling of desperately wanting but not trusting herself to have –
"You thought wrong." Lightning's words came out more harshly than she intended.
"I see," Sahz said, but in spite of her anger, he met her gaze directly. "So that's what it is, then? Just her being hurt? That's what you think is wrong with her?"
Lightning scowled, dismissing him with an annoyed mutter and turning her attention back to her weapon. "This really isn't any of your business, Sazh."
"Not my business? Sure it is. Because Snow's right." Sazh's expression softened. "I'm… we're worried about her. There's a lot Vanille and Fang aren't telling us still, and it makes me wonder. What does it feel like, to hold a secret that you feel you can't share with anyone? What's more, they've seen their home wrecked. Just… it's something to think about, is all. Not going to tell you what to do, and whatnot."
Lightning didn't respond, lost in her own thoughts again. Occam's razor had dictated that the most obvious answer to Fang's dark mood had been the rejection. But now that Sazh had put an alternative perspective on it, she wasn't so sure. Maybe he was onto something, there. Back at the fissure, whatever Fang and Vanille had talked about was bad enough to summon an Eidolon.
She shook her head. So. Perhaps Fang's current mood might not be solely Lightning's responsibility. Maybe there was something else going on, that Lightning hadn't seen in her absorption in her own selfish problems.
Maybe. But there was really only one way to be sure.
By the time the two women emerged into the clear light of day, the tiny amount of good Fang had done on her hunts had been shattered. That oh-so joyous ball of paranoia and fear in her stomach was wound more tightly than ever. Being here with the rest of them again, it just reminded her of the stakes that they played and the fact that time was ticking on…
Snow and Hope seemed to have gone off for some exploration, because Fang couldn't see the lug anywhere near. Well, good. His attempts to lift her spirits were sweet, if entirely misguided. No matter how often he repeated his little peptalk, he had to realize that it would do no good. That mind over matter bullshit he was spouting was starting to get on her nerves.
In spite of herself, her gaze gravitated towards the remaining two l'Cie. Sazh was sitting by the fire, with Lightning sharpening her weapon beside him – Fang snorted to herself. Funny how the act could look so casual, and yet so deliberately threatening. Fang had noticed that Lightning tended to use it as an intimidation tactic, even if such blatant psychological warfare never worked on Fang.
Fang felt a pang of regret as her eyes ran over Lightning, followed by a shadow of anger that she knew was unjustified. She hated it. Even though Ragnarok's shadow dwarfed everything else in her mind, the fact that she still cared, still hurt from Lightning's rejection –
Betrayal?
- was maddening. Everything became so much worse, when Fang was reminded of what she'd somehow screwed up.
Things had been awkward and distant between them, ever since the juggernaut incident. Maybe, if it hadn't been for Ragnarok, Fang might have been able to stomach Lightning's rejection a little easier. Maybe there wouldn't have been this insurmountable wall of ice and awkwardness between them. Etro, maybe Lightning would have still been willing to give her a shot…
I wish things were different. I wish we could talk. Maybe it'd take a little of the burden off, I could really use a hand with it right now. But if I say something about Ragnarok… would you declare me your enemy?
As she and Vanille approached, Fang saw Sazh murmur something to Lightning, and from the sudden set to the woman's shoulders, Lightning had been gearing up for a confrontation. Fang halted, her mind teetering between taking Lightning's lecture like a true Yun, or hightailing it out of there like a wounded lobo.
Yeah… no. Not in the mood for this. She said what she wanted to say yesterday. Besides. She doesn't really want to talk. She just wants to act the leader. I've heard it all before.
"Fang," Fang heard Lightning begin in a low voice, but Fang darted past her, tilting her head in a mocking bow.
"Maybe later, Lightning. Still got work to do, if you don't mind."
It seemed as though she'd judged the soldier's mood correctly, because a flicker of uncertainty crossed Lightning's face. It was just momentary, but it was all the opening that Fang needed to push her way onwards, towards where the ruins of Taejin's Tower rose into the afternoon sky.
The distance between her and Lightning felt yawning now, and those barriers of ice had only strengthened in her mind. Fang set her jaw, jogging for the tower. No matter how much it hurt, she knew that it was better this way. The fact was, these people were all doomed if they found nothing at Oerba. Her new family would shatter under the Focus, and one-by-one they'd turn cie'th, until she was the only one left to put them out of their misery.
Lightning, Snow, Sazh, Hope, and then finally Vanille. They'd all fall, and that would be the end. Barthandelus would come up with another batch of l'Cie to do his bidding, making all this defiance pointless.
Stop it.
Every time she lowered her guard, those thoughts were back there, her despair devouring all hope. Compared to seeing her family turn monster, Ragnarok didn't even seem that bad. Fang smiled bitterly. She knew that Vanille's brand was hovering between the eighth and ninth stages, but she supposed that was because Vanille knew all the mind-tricks that could slow the advancement.
From Snow's arm, from Sazh's chest and Hope's wrist… she knew that the brands of the rest of the l'Cie were far more advanced. They fluctuated between the tenth and the eleventh, and they were spreading faster every day. Just how much longer did they have, before those red eyes opened and the brands consumed them all?
She'd do anything to stop it. Anything.
Fang paused in her run, then, feeling her brand begin to prickle. She looked up at the satellite that hung in the sky, and wondered.
Lightning watched Fang retreat into the distance, annoyance creasing her brows. The woman was as slippery as a mud frog, and was probably about as dangerous as one, too.
No matter, Lightning told herself firmly, looking towards where Vanille was standing. Surprisingly, the girl had deigned to let Fang go on alone. Sazh's observations were still ringing in Lightning's ears, and she thoughtfully considered Vanille. If there was one person who was privy to all of Fang's secrets, it was Vanille.
Even when Fang is asked to keep quiet, Lightning remembered, her scowl deepening.
She watched Vanille begin to skip about the Sulyya Springs, watched the girl occasionally kneel to collect a few of the native herbs and spices that grew in the area. Fang and Vanille were closer than sisters, so perhaps interrogating Vanille would yield a better answer.
Pausing to sheathe her weapon, Lightning told Sazh in a low voice,
"I'll be back. Stay sharp."
As Lightning quietly followed Vanille to an isolated island, a sizeable distance away from where they'd made camp, she noticed Vanille twitch and look over her shoulder. Well, Lightning supposed that growing up with Fang, Vanille certainly should have picked up a few skills in self-awareness – even if the girl rarely utilized them.
Unlike said sister, Vanille allowed her to approach, but a frown had creased her brows and she'd hesitated her herb collection, just for an instant.
"How is she?" Lighting asked her without preamble, as she crossed her arms. No need to specify who 'she' was, not when Fang's anger and Vanille's warning fell like shadows between them.
"About what I… expected." Vanille's hands deliberately went about their task, but her voice was carefully level. Lightning was silent, waiting for Vanille to continue. Such seriousness was uncommon for Vanille.
"I did ask you to be gentle, Lightning," Vanille said, her voice taking an accusing note as she finally stopped gathering those plants.
Lightning shrugged. Vanille had told her that Fang might be more invested than Lightning had first thought – not that Fang would act like a child, even when Lightning had tried to reason with her. Exactly what had Vanille expected her to do? Trap herself in a relationship that she wasn't sure she even wanted?
There was hardly a need to antagonize Vanille, not when Lightning was attempting to pry information from her.
"She doesn't seem the sort to act the fool like this, though," Lightning said, looking at Vanille sharply. "What's really going on? Is this idiocy about me, or is it more about what you two discussed in the flower-fissure?"
Lightning wasn't sure of her suspicions, but Sazh had raised a good point and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to follow it through.
Push back, rather than yield. It was as simple as that.
Vanille hesitated, just for half a moment. It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was a fracture in the mask. Lightning frowned. Was Sazh correct? That was… quite a hunch.
"What makes you wonder?" Vanille asked softly.
"It was something Sazh said," Lightning told her, watching Vanille's reactions with a steady eye.
Vanille fiddled around with the plants in her hands for a moment, not meeting the soldier's gaze. She seemed to be deciding something, so Lightning gave her time to consider her options. Let her see that Fang's behaviour was a concern, and that the rest of the group needed the woman functioning. Lightning's jaw clenched. She had to be careful, to keep her motivations strictly impersonal, refusing to examine them carefully.
For the good of the group, for a friend, and that's as far as it goes.
"…I know I said I wouldn't run, but some secrets aren't mine to share." Vanille's voice was still low, but there was a steely quality to it that Lightning had never heard from Vanille before.
"Meaning?" Lightning asked, her frustration with Vanille – Eden, with Fang – rising quickly in spite of her self-control.
"There might be more to it, Lightning, but if Fang wants you to know…" Vanille hesitated, looking quickly off in the direction of Taejin's Tower, to where Fang had vanished, before rushing on. "Well, she'll tell you herself."
"That's a good theory. But it has one big problem. We aren't exactly talking."
"I noticed," Vanille said simply, turning back to her herb-gathering with a shrug. Lightning scowled at the dismissive tone. Of course Vanille would have noticed. She would have had to have been blind and deaf not to notice.
"Look." Lightning's voice was sharp, but it did the job. Vanille's attention was back on her again. "I know that things… have been a little rough, but I need to try to work this out. Fang is dragging the rest of the group down, and you know how important it is to keep strong."
Lightning's brand felt tight again as her thoughts drifted back to it, a warning that they had to hurry. Vanille frowned at her, before rising smoothly to her feet. After a long moment, the expression relented, and she looked into the darkening sky with a sigh.
"I see," Vanille murmured, and suddenly her green eyes were distant, as if remembering something. "Fang… she would have gone over to the Palisades. They're these cliffs by Taejin's Tower. She's… she's needed to blow off a little steam recently."
Vanille paused, giving Lightning the gimlet eye. "Don't you go and make her worse, you hear me? She's been through too much, and I even warned you!"
"I know." Lightning nodded, haltingly.
There had to be a peace offering, though. A reminder to Vanille that maybe this wasn't permanent, that maybe things could go back to being the way they'd been on the Steppe, in the Subterra. Just thinking about it made her wistful, and it undermined her focus and her resolve to keep her life in order.
Stay strong.
"Maybe, after the Focus is done, I'll be able to thinks straight. Maybe then, things will be different, and Fang and I…" Lightning trailed off, shaking her head. "Right now, it's too much uncertainty and pressure to deal with, and I know that those things will make it worse."
Lightning touched the brand through the weave of her sweater, sighing.
You get a nasty shock, it can speed up the process. Fang had told her that. Well, the last few days hadn't been the most calming she'd ever experienced.
Lightning turned away from Vanille, and towards the wide, open path that led to the Palisades. She set her shoulders, and despite the sudden prickle of discomfort in her stomach, she continued onwards.
Not a matter of can or can't.
Not for the first time, the repetition of her mantra didn't help soothe her in the slightest.
Fang had seated herself at the edge of the palisades, her legs dangling over and into the steep drop-off. She'd watched the sunset from this vantage point, all blood reds and yellows that had eventually faded into twilight.
Chewing on a blade of grass between her lips, Fang propped the end of her bloodied spear up on her branded shoulder. The corpse of the Goblin King lay sprawled and mangled from their recent scuffle, not five feet away from where she sat.
The creature and its mob of goblins had put up a poor fight against her lance, and they certainly hadn't proven to be the outlet that Fang had craved. She snorted to herself. The battle hadn't even been enough to distract her from her morbid rumination of thoughts.
Tilting her head back, she looked up at the oppressive satellite in the sky. Ever since she could remember, that nest had hung over them, like some malicious god. If she was being honest with herself, she believed that Cocoon deserved what was coming to it – just a little.
Fang lowered her eyes, looking across the chasm and towards Taejin's Tower. Absently, she bounced a small, dusty rock in the palm of her hand. Fang had vague memories of the tower, but none of them were pleasant. Come to think of it, that spire had been where she'd launched herself as Ragnarok. She remembered that Vanille had been against it, had tried to shout her down but Fang had ignored her and forged onwards, because she'd had no choice and it was the same this time -
Swearing, Fang hurled the rock into the distance, listening to the sound of it crashing and clattering down into the depths of the palisades. Her brand was starting to prickle, a sensation that seemed to be buried beneath that partially crystallised skin. She rubbed the flesh with a thumb, thoughtful.
If… If Fang did what that bastard Barthandelus wanted, well, then she'd fill their Focus. Vanille and the rest of the l'Cie could be spared the agony of becoming cie'th, and they'd spend forever in a crystal slumber. Not exactly the best outcome she could hope for, but one thing was for sure. It was better than an eternity as the walking dead. Etro, stasis and a complete Focus was the only real alternative! Snow, Lightning, Vanille – couldn't they see that?
It would be so easy. All Fang have to do was give into her old despair, give into what was best for everyone and become the slayer of yet another world. She laughed bitterly at the thought. Why was it that all of her problems could be solved by destroying everything?
But Fang knew that once she chose that course of action, there'd be no return. For sure, Vanille would never forgive her. Vanille was so set on trying to deny this Focus, that there were times that Fang wondered if her sister would rather become a cie'th than to fulfil it. Thing was, Vanille didn't seem to get it and when they were talking about such awful consequences, these foolish little hopes of hers could go and hang themselves! Fang couldn't just stand by and let her sister wish herself into a cie'th.
And then… then there was Lightning, who Fang knew would fight her to the end over this. If she had even the suspicion of what Fang was considering…
Her brand stung warningly, no longer just a prickle but a deep burning, one that went right down to the bone –
The scuff of iron-tipped boots on the palisade's rocky outcrop warned her of her approaching company. Fang looked up with a jerk, frowning as she made out Lightning's form in the fading light of the sunset. The burning in her brand receded as Lightning paused behind her.
Fang stubbornly waited for the soldier to announce her presence. Even if every one of her senses were straining on Lightning, Fang was careful to give the impression of ignoring the other woman. The sound of breathing, and if she closed her eyes, she could smell Lightning's unique scent on the air – gunpowder, oilstones, sweat and roses.
Fang opened her eyes again, pushing the hyper-sensitivity of a hunter away. Lightning finally sighed, and Fang heard buckles clink as the soldier crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"You all right?" Lightning asked, softly, and if Fang hadn't been so focused on her, she might have missed the words entirely. The woman's voice didn't seem cold, but there was an odd undercurrent to it. No, definitely not as cold as Fang had expected, and it was more… determined. Fang wished she could turn to see Lightning's face, or read the other woman's body language in the fading light.
"I'm fine." Fang fished another rock up from beside her, and lazily tossed it over the edge of the cliff. It clattered down the side of the palisades, a welcome distraction from Lightning. "Just remembered some pretty nasty business from the War. That's all. Nothing you need to bother yourself with."
It was a blatant lie. Better to lie, than to let Lightning know of the awful truth.
Hey, Light. I'm considering destroying Cocoon, in the vain hope that your crystal selves will survive the impact of that bloody vipers nest with Gran Pulse. How would you go about striking down Orphan? Since I failed pretty badly last time, I reckon I could use a few pointers.
Fang snorted bitterly, listening to the sounds of Lightning's presence. Etro, but what she'd give to have her ignorance back again.
"You want to talk about it?" Lightning asked her, and she almost didn't sound reluctant to be getting herself involved in Fang's problems. The distance that had grown between them wavered for a moment, as Fang shot the soldier a look over her shoulder.
"Talk about it? Frankly, all I wanna do is forget." That was the truth, at least.
Fang watched Lightning for a moment, before turning back to look out over the cliffs again. It felt deceptively good, to be talking with Lightning again. Even if she knew that the small comfort wouldn't last, and that this wasn't something she could stop and enjoy.
She heard Lightning make a sound of frustration.
"You don't like to make things easy, do you?" Lightning said, that edge of irritation in her voice again. "Let me put it bluntly, then. Whatever's going on with you, you need to man up and deal with it. You got that?"
Fang snorted, shooting Lightning a glance over her shoulder again. "What the hell are you on about this time?"
"You. Your childish reaction to getting dumped is unbelievable. You don't even stop to consider what your actions are doing to the rest of the group."
"Childish? What superiority complex are you hopped up on?" Fang snorted again, incredulous. So that was what that determination was about. Lightning actually believed that itwas all about getting dumped? That Lightning was Fang's biggest concern, that it was the only thing that could be wrong? That it was enough to make Fang act like this?
Etro, Fang been dumped before. To be sure, none of those men or women back then had really meant all that much, and had been more the means to an end. And sure, the break-up hadn't hurt so badly, but Fang was a big girl. She could handle a little rejection.
Ragnarok was the big issue in Fang's mind, and the reason why she'd been so preoccupied. From the looks of it, Lightning didn't even have an inkling of the truth.
Well, good, Fang thought. She could work with this. It was better for Lightning to distance herself from Fang, to prevent the inevitable hurt and pain for when Fang made the hard choice to fulfil their Focus. Because if there was one thing that Lightning was good at, it was her damnable ability to give Fang hope again…
"Well then, love. How about you buck up and reap what you sowed?" Fang's voice was deliberately harsh and confrontational. Press enough of Lightning's buttons, and the woman was sure to stalk off on her own. "Because frankly, I don't give a flying fuck what you think is childish or moronic. You did this, so how about you live with it?"
"Tch. This is pathetic," Lightning told her icily, but the woman was still refusing to do as Fang wished and leave. She was more stubborn than Fang gave her credit for. "I thought you were better than this, Fang."
"You know what? You thought wrong." Fang stretched, her fingers never leaving her polearm's haft. Let Lightning take it as a blatant threat, even if it were just a bluff. Annoyed as she was, Fang wasn't sure if she was in the mood to kick Lightning's arse.
"…this is a waste of my time." Lightning's voice was tight. Etrol, Fang could just imagine the bristling going on back there. "Fine. You can just sit here and wait for Cocoon to fall on your stubborn head, for all I care. Maybe I was wrong to give a damn about how you were doing."
Fang's lips quirked in a false smile as she heard Lightning's boots scuff against stone. So it was finally starting to work. About bloody time.
"Go and run away, then. Knew you were a true viper at heart," Fang called after her, forcing out a laugh she knew she didn't feel, and a slur she knew didn't fit someone like Lightning.
"Whatever." Lightning's voice was a low growl, and she began to stride back towards camp.
"You want some advice?" Fang asked loudly, needing to take it a step further.
Fact was, Lightning wasn't really going to take this confrontation of theirs all that serious, was she? Tomorrow, Lightning would on Fang's back again, being all sharp and demanding and embodying everything that Fang loved and hated about her. But every moment that they spent together would worsen the inevitable outcome of their Focus, and Fang couldn't have Lightning reaching out like she'd done in the Ark.
Lightning didn't respond to Fang's taunt, but Fang knew she was listening.
"Stop regretting, and start living for once. You lot have got a few days left, tops. Then it's hello cie'th city."
The sound of boots on rock faltered, before continuing determinedly on.
Bringing up the state of Lightning's brand was a nasty blow, and it was an unkind truth that the rest of the l'Cie had been determinedly ignoring for days now. Maybe a little reminder of just how fine they were cutting it would get Lightning's head out of her arse.
Maybe Lightning would start thinking, maybe she'd understand how Fang felt. Because Etro, Fang cared, even when she wished that she didn't. Fang shook her head, sighing.
But one thing was for certain, the fight with Lightning had served to galvanise her determination to do whatever it took to save them all, even if they didn't want it. Fang only had a couple of days left, before she'd run out of time.
She looked down at the darkened corpse of the Goblin King, and swore softly to herself.
Notes: So I think everyone can see why these two were such a bloody pain to write. Their assumptions, faulty reasoning and wrong conclusions are making me want to tear my hair out. At least the daggers are out now, so it's better than this odd limbo they were stuck in over the course of this chapter.
Also, Fang, your reasoning sucks, but that's the intention here. Light's gained a lot of her emotional equilibrium back now, too, so that's an improvement.
Hm, a bit of pimping now. If you're a Final Fantasy fan who enjoys a bit of a discussion, enjoys competing in a lot of fun fanwork challenges and random minigames, head on over to the livejournal community ff_land. Just fill out the stamping application on ff_classchange, you'll get sorted into your class (I'm a monk) and then you can start discussing things with some of the most awesome and fantastic people I've met. :3
I should note that the stamping might take a while, because we're looking at restamp applications now, but if you want a bit of fun, it's totally worth the wait.