Title: The Price of Honor
Author: Seph
Series: Final Fantasy XII
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy XII and all other related characters, events, etc. do not belong to me.
Summary: 5 years after the defeat of his brother, Lord Larsa Solidor will finally be crowned as Emperor of Archades—or so he should be. However, the only thing which is preventing him from accepting the crown involves one person... the same person who has sworn to protect him, Lord Larsa, as the rightful heir to the throne of Archades. [Gabranth x Larsa
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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. :)
Timeline: Story is generally post-game, but there are many instances of flashbacks concerning the in-game events.
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Chapter Notes: Chapter V simply picks up from the end of Chapter IV.
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Chapter V
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All the determination seemed to drain out of Larsa's body as he stepped inside the brightly lit hall—the loud medley of voices and the eyes which now fixed themselves upon him only unnerved the young lord even more. "Tell me again Gabranth, how many ladies I must dance with this evening." The Solidor heir whispered to the Judge Magister behind him.
"About 11 my lord… 15 at most." The knight replied, trying to keep his voice as nearly inaudible as possible.
"Then it shall be a very long and tiring evening…" Larsa trailed off with a sigh as he proceeded to walk towards his brother who had been gesturing to him from across the room.
"There you are Larsa, I was beginning to worry that you've run from me!" Vayne chuckled amusedly as he draped an arm around his younger brother's narrow shoulders. Though Larsa smiled, he secretly wished to do just that. With a nonchalant nod, the older Solidor acknowledged Gabranth's presence as the Judge bowed respectfully. "You've returned quite quickly Gabranth—efficient as ever aren't you? I'm quite impressed." Vayne's lips curved into a rather iniquitous smile.
For a moment, the Judge was unable to answer. There was something menacing about the older Solidor's tone which made Gabranth's blood run cold. "Thank you for your compliment my lord." The blonde bit out, rather thankful that his helmet concealed his furrowed brows and the derision painted on his usually stoic features.
"Well then, I trust that you will make me proud this evening Larsa. Ah, here comes Lady Elvera now." Vayne whispered in his brother's ear before he straightened up and greeted the girl with a light kiss on the back of her gloved hand—an action which made her flush slightly. Larsa offered a cordial smile as he regarded the young Lady Elvera who seemed more an overworked tapestry than anything else.
Vayne gently pushed his brother forward, his hand firmly gripping the slight shoulder. "You look lovely this evening Lady Elvera. I trust you remember my younger brother Larsa?" The young lord forced a look of recognition though he was completely at a loss if he had seen this lady or not. Lady Elvera let out such a girlish giggle that Larsa nearly winced. "Of course Lord Vayne—I cannot easily forget such a handsome face." The younger Solidor nearly rolled his eyes had he not stopped himself.
Larsa at once offered a hand to Lady Elvera as he bowed slightly. Vayne raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise—he had not expected that his younger brother would be so immediate in his actions. The Lady seemed pleasantly surprised as well but accepted the dance with a curtsy. Gabranth bowed quickly and retreated to a corner of the great hall where he stood almost motionless though his eyes never left the lithe frame of the younger Solidor.
The blonde watched as Larsa lead Elvera with seeming ease that none could have guessed he had only learnt to dance the night before. He mused at how the young lord could draw so much attention without the slightest intention of doing so… and how Larsa had remained completely oblivious of the apparent affections that were showered upon him. The Judge watched as Larsa concluded his dance with Lady Elvera and began again with another. He noted the polite exchange of smiles and pleasantries—noticing how much at ease the ladies were in the Solidor heir's presence. Gabranth unconsciously sighed as he leant his head back against the wall—his armor seeming much heavier than usual.
"Gabranth… the Emperor wishes to speak with you." Bergan's deep baritone broke through the blonde's thoughts almost brusquely. With a nod, Gabranth headed towards the exit—not failing to see the frightened and uneasy glances thrown in his direction as nobles and servants alike hurried to clear his path. As a Judge Magister, should fear not be taken as a sign of respect for his position? Gabranth did not bother to mull over it any longer as he left the hall.
- - - - - - - - - -
Larsa was slowly getting tired of dancing round and round the ballroom. The different ladies he danced with were all a blur of silk and satin in various colors with shrill voices and painted faces—the young lord was amiable, though somewhat indifferent towards them. If it were not for the memory of the night before, Larsa was quite certain he would not have been able to dance with so many ladies in a single night.
A small smile tugged at the young lord's lips as he remembered Gabranth's strong arm around his waist—how the soldier had pulled him close… how the large palm enveloped his own… what he felt then, Larsa could not explain—but a shiver ran up his spine in response to his thoughts, making his cheeks redden slightly.
"M-my lord…" A voice beseeched the Solidor heir.
As if he had just woken from a trance, Larsa raised his head slightly to meet the gaze of the young lady who had addressed him. "Yes? Is there anything the matter?"
The girl blushed fervently as she averted her eyes from Larsa's cobalt ones. "Your arm my lord…" She started in a whisper but was unable to continue. Larsa at once realized that he had unconsciously drawn her so tightly against him with his arm around the slender waist to the point that they were now in a rather dissolute position.
The Solidor heir quickly let his arms drop to his sides as he turned crimson in embarrassment. "F-forgive me my lady… I was not—I was not…"
"It is quite alright my lord, I have taken no offense." The lady smiled sweetly at Larsa, though her cheeks still remained a healthy shade of pink. "Forgive me, but I must take my leave… my mother is waiting." With a curtsy, she left the still discomfited young lord.
Larsa scolded himself silently as he looked about—silently wishing that there were no more ladies to dance with. Seeing no more girls he had not danced with that evening, he felt himself almost melt away with relief. The Solidor then turned to where he had last seen Gabranth standing by the far wall—but the Judge was not there; Larsa frowned. He was about to approach Judge Bergan who stood near his Judge Protector's post but Vayne had called out to him first—asking him to approach the head of the main table.
Upon reaching the table, Vayne quickly seated Larsa by the empty seat on his right side. Vayne stood up and held up the goblet of wine in his hand and proposed a toast. "To my dear brother Larsa, that he may grow up well and attain glory in his reign!" Larsa shied away from the cheers of those at the table—embarrassed and confused at his brother's words.
Vayne seated himself and offered a goblet of wine to the younger heir. "Come now Larsa, will you not drink to your own health?" Larsa looked at the rich vermilion liquid in the goblet as he shook his head. "I shouldn't brother—Drace has told me not to…" The older Solidor clicked his tongue impatiently. "Will you listen to a Judge and not to your brother? Do not be foolish Larsa—it is just one glass of wine. Nothing will happen I assure you… you might even grow fond of it."
Larsa had no intention of vexing his brother that evening so he took the goblet from Vayne and brought it to his lips. The strong scent of the wine flooded the young lord's senses as the rush of bitter-sweet flavor fell on his tongue. The wine was surprisingly appealing to Larsa's taste though he immediately felt his cheeks grow warm as soon as he had finished the contents of his goblet.
"Well… is the wine to your liking Larsa?"
Larsa nodded in response, somewhat ashamed of admitting the fact.
"Then you shall have another!" Vayne quickly signaled to a girl carrying a bottle of wine.
"N-no! I really shouldn't have any more brother!" Larsa tried to protest but it was too late. With a bemused moan, the young lord watched as the girl filled his goblet once more with the deep plum liquor.
"Nonsense! Now drink brother—for our brilliant future!" Vayne laughed rather uncharacteristically as he raised his own goblet while the others at the table did the same.
With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Larsa once more drank the wine given him. What was another glass of wine after all?
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"Another glass—p-please…" Larsa motioned for the girl with the wine yet again.
The girl approached the young lord though she made no attempt to fill his goblet with wine.
"I don't think so… I think you've had enough."
Larsa looked up at once—no one had spoken to him so… casually before and she even refused him his wine! The younger Solidor was apparently intrigued as he regarded the girl who now stood beside his chair.
She was certainly older than him, Larsa mused… she might even be a good head taller than himself. The girl had braids of blonde hair on either side of her smiling face which made her look a bit younger.
"What? Is there something on my face?" She said in good humor as she sat himself quite comfortably in Vayne's now empty chair. Larsa's cobalt eyes widened at the lady's boldness—did she not know who he was? He was astonished, but not so much as he was amused.
"No no… I w-was jus—t uhm…" Larsa laid a hand on his temple which had now begun to throb, making it difficult for the Solidor heir to think.
"It must be the wine. You're too young to be drinking so much of it you know." The girl quipped again. "By the way, my name is Penelo—and you?"
The young lord felt himself smile. It felt good to be treated so warmly, as if she already addressed him as an equal—as a friend.
"He is Lord Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, younger brother of Vayne Corrudas Solidor and heir to the Emperor of Archadia."
Penelo paled quickly and stood up as she stared wide-eyed at the Judge Magister who seemed to have just appeared out of nowhere and now loomed menacingly at her. Larsa followed her gaze and all but leaped into the knight's arms. "Gabranth you are back! And do stop leering at my guest—you are frightening her!" The Judge Magister noted the young lord's flushed cheeks and the unusually high pitch of his voice. Larsa struggled to get up from his chair, but his knees quickly gave way and he felt himself fall backwards. Penelo was quick to react and made to catch the young lord. However, Gabranth was quicker and had already caught Larsa by the waist even before he reached the girl's outstretched arms.
Larsa broke into small giggles as he made to stand again though the arm around his waist made no attempt to remove itself. "How much has he had?" Gabranth asked as he eyed the wine bottle and empty goblet on the table. Penelo's voice caught in her throat—the cold, unyielding Judge terrified her terribly.
"One! I-I've ha—ad jus—t o-one g-g-laa—ss Gabr—anth!" Larsa interrupted as he held on to an armored arm for support. Gabranth shook his head in consternation.
"He's had about 3 to 4 glasses." Penelo put in hastily as she bowed respectfully. "And I'm very sorry—I had no idea that you were—"
"No—enough Pen—elo. Th—ere is not-nothing to forgive!" The Solidor heir offered a gloved hand with a smile.
Penelo smiled and shook hands with the young lord just before an elderly creature called to her. "Oh no, I must get going—please take care of yourself Lord Larsa." With another bow, she turned to go.
"W-will I see you again?" The young heir asked hopefully.
"Why not?" Penelo called out behind her with a wave as she broke into a slight trot to a far end of the hall.
Larsa breathed deeply, his head felt ostensibly heavy that he unconsciously leant it on Gabranth's arm. "It would be best if you were to retire now my lord." The Judge offered and was surprised that the Solidor heir simply nodded without a word of protest. With a few half-slurred farewells from Larsa and much bowing on Gabranth's part, they finally made it to the dimly lit corridor which leads to the young lord's chambers.
The knight walked in silence, his arm still held Larsa's waist firmly for fear that he would fall over especially with the way the young lord clung to the blonde's arm for support. Gabranth felt his pulse quicken as they approached the all-too-familiar oaken doors—suddenly uncertain if he had done the right thing of bringing the young lord there himself. On the other hand, Larsa was simply humming softly as he walked unsteadily, trying to keep pace with his Judge Protector.
The Judge stopped abruptly upon reaching the massive doors, his whole countenance stiffened considerably. "My lord, perhaps I should call the maidservants so that they may prepare you for bed." Gabranth could hear the awkward tone in his own voice as he spoke.
"No."
The blonde looked at Lord Larsa in disbelievingly, thinking that the young lord might have been thinking of some other matter. "Pardon my lord?"
"No Gabranth… I-I will not h-ave the ma—aidservants prep-prepare me for bed to—night." The young lord said decisively as he reached out and turned one of the golden knobs. The Solidor heir pulled on Gabranth's arm slightly as if coaxing him to step forward, but the blonde refused to go any further. "Should I call Drace then my lord?" He pressed—pleading with his entire mind, (heart, and body) that the young lord would not ask it of him to step inside. As if the Judge had spoken his thoughts aloud, Larsa shook his head as he took a few unsteady steps inside his chambers.
"W-would you p-please come insi—ide Gabranth… the-re is something I-I wish to ask you…" Without another word, Larsa disappeared into the inner room, leaving Gabranth to look intently at the partially opened door in front of him.
The knight stood where he was—unmoving as if his very feet were nailed to the marble floor of the hallway. Gabranth heaved a deep breath… why was it that he was here once more? Why was it that he now stood before the very threshold he wished to avoid… at least for the time being? Was it not enough that his limits had been tested the night before? Did the fates wish to push him over the edge? No… he could not do this—not tonight… not so soon after…
Gabranth pursed his lips at his silent admission. Had he been so affected? No… he must act with his mind—his resolve must not and will not be swayed. With a decided stride, the Judge followed the young lord inside. Gabranth locked the door behind him—for whatever reason, he did not know.
For a moment Gabranth could not hear anything but the sound of his own breathing and the grating of his armor as he walked slowly towards the amber light which spilled from the inner room. The blonde hesitated for a moment before he entered the young lord's most private chambers. He bowed low and made to remove his helmet—the prevailing stillness in the room stifled him.
"Who am I to you Judge Magister Gabranth?" Larsa's voice broke through the deafening silence between them—resolute and without a slur that the Judge looked at him intently. There was no doubt that the young lord was intoxicated, with his crimson-flushed face and neck and the unsteady way he stood by his bed—there was no mistaking it. Why then did the Solidor heir sound so unwavering and how could those guileless blue eyes look straight at his own as if they wanted to burn a hole right through him?
"You are my lord, one who I have sworn to protect with my swords and shield." The blonde answered with the same conviction in his voice, though the very mention of his position made him flinch slightly.
"Will you protect me then from the rules of this court? From the bonds of my position and yours?" The young lord pressed as he attempted to walk towards his Judge Protector.
Gabranth hastily walked over to the Solidor heir's side to support him, leaving his helmet forgotten on the very same table he had left it on the night before. "My lord, it is late and you are intoxicated. You must rest… if you wish, we may speak tomorrow." The blonde lifted the young lord with one arm as he pulled back the heavy silk covers with the other and sat Larsa on the edge of the bed.
"But you did not answer my question…" Larsa half-whined. He tilted his head to one side to catch a glimpse of his Judge Protector's face as the blonde now dropped to his knees and began to unlace the young lord's boots. Gabranth sighed inwardly as he pulled off one boot then the other and set them aside before he stood up again. "My lord… I fail to understand your words."
Larsa quickly stood up on the edge of the bed and pressed his small palms on either side of the Judge's face, coaxing the older man to look at him in the face. His whole body seemed to be on fire—his cheeks, his now bare palms (for he had removed his gloves earlier) against the blonde's face, his lips…
"If I ask it of you now Judge Magister—will you kiss me?"
Gabranth froze instantly—his limbs seeming to grow rigid at the young lord's words. Did Lord Larsa actually ask it of him to… No, it was impossible. The young lord was drunk—he could not possibly want this out of his own free will. The knight did not know why, but his chest tightened almost unbearably at the thought. Without thinking of his actions, he let his arms slip around Larsa's waist and pulled him close—pressing his cheek against the smaller boy's chest.
"You do not know what you ask of me my lord…" Gabranth whispered as he lifted the lithe form again—this time laying the young lord gently on the cool satin sheets. "Please rest my lord…" But even before the blonde could get up, two slender arms reached out and pulled him back down. In the dim yellow light he could see Larsa's ebony hair, half-lidded sapphire eyes which gazed at him intensely, flushed cheeks, and quivering lips which were slightly parted as the young lord breathed in short, shallow breaths. Gabranth had caught himself with his arms posted on either side of the young lord, afraid that he would crush the fragile form with the sheer weight of his armor.
"My lord please…" Gabranth pleaded though he was not certain what it was he pleaded for. Gabranth could smell the heavy scent of the wine as Larsa's breath tickled his face and the Judge's whole being screamed with a near primal desire that he could barely contain it. The blonde slid his eyes closed as he tried to stay his mind and body—fingers digging into the satin coverlet on either side the young lord's pillow.
"Do you not want to?" Larsa cooed beneath him as deft finger intertwined behind the Judge's neck. "Am I not enough for you to want?" Gabranth shook his head. "No no no…" he whispered under his breath as if trying to convince himself though it was almost done half-heartedly. How could he not want the young lord when with all of his willpower, he could barely keep himself at bay?
Without warning, Gabranth suddenly felt soft, warm lips press against his own. The blonde's eyes flew open in shock, his arms nearly gave way at the sudden sensation. Larsa had closed his eyes, arms wrapped tightly around the knight's neck as he kissed him. The kiss was unassuming, a child's kiss… innocent—too innocent that Gabranth could not bear the guilt he felt for wanting to respond to the petal-lips which insistently pressed against his own.
However, Gabranth by virtue of being Lord Larsa's Judge Protector could not bring himself to do it… no, not now… not when his lord was not himself—and so he pulled away reluctantly from the innocent kiss. Larsa opened his eyes which were now glazed with tears which threatened to spill as he looked up at Gabranth's face—wordlessly pleading for words of assurance… explanation… anything at all.
The knight lowered his head as if in defeat—purposely avoiding the sapphire orbs which implored him. "Is this what you ask of me my lord… that I protect you not with my swords but with my lips…" He whispered more to himself than to Larsa, his now dry lips grazing a fevered cheek.
"Is this what you ask of me?"
And without waiting for an answer, Gabranth stood up and left—the only sound which followed was the muffled thud of the oaken door at it was closed. Larsa rolled to his side—unsure of how he should be feeling. He felt as if he wanted to cry, but Gabranth's whispered words seemed enough to assure him… at least for now.
Something on the table by the side of the room caught Larsa's eye—and a small smile formed on his lips before sleep finally claimed him.
TBC
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Well… this chapter took a lot less time than I expected. It must be the reviews which have inspired me to reach Chapter V! Yay:) Thank you thank you thank you for everyone who reviewed! Especially who did so more than once—I really, really appreciate it!
I hope you guys liked this chapter… I left it kind of hanging to make way for the next chapter! Heeehee! I was planning on lengthening this encounter when an idea just popped into my head which would make things a lot better in the long run—so something more is definitely going to happen in the next chapter! I hope you guys are still reading it by then. :)
Again, comments and suggestions are very much welcome! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed Chapter V:)
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Seph