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 14 happens on the night of Chapter 13.
Author's Notes: A little hurried and not proof-read, so I apologize for the grammatical eyesores.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Basch turned his head towards the fireplace where Vaan was sitting closeby, just in time to see the boy quickly turn his head away—but it was obvious that he had been staring at the Captain. The blonde sighed, Ashe and Penelo had been doing the same thing—looking at him, then quickly turning away when he tried to make eye contact. He knew what they wanted to know, but none of them had the heart to ask him. Instead, the party let an uneasy silence pervade the small room they had rented in Old Archades.
Basche had actually expected Balthier to be forthright about the matter, but the sky pirate had remained quiet—choosing instead to sit on the railing of the veranda overlooking the slums, carelessly loading and re-loading his rifle.
"The Judge Magister they call Gabranth is my twin brother." The Captain finally broke the silence that had reigned over them for weeks. Five heads turned slowly in his direction by the small kitchen table, faces in a uniform look of seriousness. "He is Noah fon Ronsenburg, and I grew up with him in the Republic of Landis. The Empire attacked our home... and I... and I—" Basch broke off, feeling tears well up in his eyes as he recounted his story—it had been too long, but the wounds have long remained unhealed.
Ashe laid a comforting hand on the Captain's shoulder, smiling slightly, encouraging him to continue. The blonde cleared his throat and did so, "after Landis fell, I left for Dalmasca... I—abandoned my ailing mother, as well as Noah. I became the Captain of the Knights of Dalmasca and never heard from my brother again... only rumours that he had gone to Archadia, our mother's homeland. It was only when news broke out of my treachery and betrayal that I knew for certain that Noah was yet alive—I did not expect anyone to believe my innocence... only our mother knew for certain who was who. Our faces were too identical then, and the excuse of conveniently having a king-slayer as a twin was not at all plausible—and so I was kept in a cage in Nalbina, as leverage against the Marquis Ondore. Should he betray the Empire, I was to be exposed to show that he had lied to the people, and thus, ruin his credibility."
"That traitor! He was the one who killed Reks! I want him dead!" Vaan shouted angrily, fists clenched. "As would I! He killed my father... and turned me against you! Forgive me Basch... I had no right—" Ashe whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry too Basch, for ever doubting you!" Vaan scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
The Captain shook his head with a small smile, "I understand your pain and grief, it is not easy to believe my story—not until you have seen Noah and I side by side... as you have."
"The question is—what happens now?" Balthier suddenly interrupted as he now stood by the doorframe leading to the balcony, hip and shoulder pressed against the frame.
"We kill the traitor of course!" The energetic boy chimed.
Penelo slapped him on the back, reprimanding him sternly.
The blonde looked up at the party with sad eyes, "He has wronged me gravely, but I have done the same to him. I abandoned him, my family, and my home—I understand his anger. And though I cannot ask for forgiveness for the offenses he has done to you, I cannot kill Noah—he is still my younger brother."
"Wha-?" Vaan started.
"By a minute... and a half." Basch clarified.
"I see. I cannot promise you anything Basch, my heart is still filled with grief and anger." Ashe said in a hushed voice as she tightened her grip on the blonde's tunic. "But should I do it, I do not expect your forgiveness."
"There is nothing to forgive."
Balthier walked into the room, sitting on the chair across the small table. "Now that that's settled, what do we do with our kidnapped Emperor-ling?"
Penelo hopped to her feet at this, "we have to rescue him! We just have to!"
The sky pirate eyed Basch's reaction carefully, but remained quiet—waiting for the others to voice out their opinions on the matter.
"I also believe that we must rescue the young Emperor." Fran answered, a little less stoic than usual.
"Yes, not with the Emperor Gramis dead with only Vayne at his side." Ashe nodded in agreement.
"Won't we have trouble though? That Judge Magister takes his job very seriously. Very, very seriously." Penelo mused out loud, recalling the events of their previous encounter.
"And he is very good at what he does, bested only by his skill on the battlefield—and we wouldn't want to put you through that." The sky pirate leant back on his chair, balancing it on his hind legs before pointing his rifle at Basch then Ashe. "You two will come with Fran and I to the Imperial Castle, Vaan and Penelo—you two shall stay here."
"NO WAY!" Vaan protested violently, unbelieving.
"I will not be left behind! I want to help too!" Penelo cried out, angry at being left out.
"Balthier is right Vaan, Penelo. The Imperial Castle of Archadia is more a fortress than a palace. It would be too dangerous for you both—you are still young. Very capable warriors yes, but children still. There will be no argument on this matter." Basch stated matter-of-factly in a tone that left no room for argument.
Vaan sighed as he sat back down on the floor by the fireplace, turning his back on the group—shoulders sagging in disappointment. Though equally disappointed, Penelo agreed quietly.
The sky pirate gave Basch a wan smile before standing up. "We leave tonight."
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
"I did not think he was one for late-night strolls in the palace garden... did you?" Balthier whispered cheekily as their small group peered over the hedges which concealed them—four pairs of eyes carefully trailing the movements of the Judge Magister in question.
"I thought you said this was the place least likely to have a Magister on guard!" Ashe hissed under her breath, using all her strength to stop herself from strangling the smug pirate. They had specifically chosen the palace gardens as the point of entry, being—allegedly—the least guarded area of the fortress. That proved to be the worst assumption of the night, as they laid eyes on none other than Judge Magister Gabranth, making his way about the gardens—the sound of his armour grating loudly against the dead silence of the night.
"A minor setback. Your powers of perception leave much to be desired, princess." Balthier's smug grin widened even more.
"He wears not his helm. He is not here on guard." Fran observed.
"Indeed." Basche agreed.
"This way." The sky pirate, ever vigilant of the Magister's movements, quickly slipped into the shadows.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Fran lowered herself on the suspended rope just outside a large closed window. "Are you certain that this is the correct room?
"Yes, yes—a thousand times, yes. I am certain Fran." Balthier made a dramatic wave with his hand before handing over the lock picks to the Viera from his spot on the ledge of the roof.
"I feel uneasy about this." Ashe whispered as she surveyed the roof they were perched on. "This does not seem like the wing in the castle where a prince's chamber would be located."
The pirate frowned, "is everyone against me tonight? I am sure of it, now stay down."
Fran quickly picked the lock, surprised at how unsecure it was—she had expected at least grills to be in place in a future Emperor's chamber. All the better for them however, and she eased the window open with her toes before jumping and landing soundlessly on the window ledge. Without waiting for a signal, Balthier slid down next, followed by Ashe and Basch.
"Balthier! I have half a mind to—" Ashe started angrily but Basch silenced her with a hand to her shoulder, reminding her that discovery might cost them their lives.
"What happe—oh by the gods! Balthier!" Basch frowned as he stared at what had caused the princess' outburst.
A familiar helm sat on top of an armour stand by the far end of the room, staring at them with eerily blank eyes. Gabranth.
"It seems we are in the wrong room." Fran dead-panned, though she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
Balthier gave a sheepish chuckle. "Well, I suppose even the best sky pirate makes mistakes. No matter, this is, once more, only a minor setback."
"A minor setback? We are in the quarters of Judge Magister Gabranth! We already have one foot in the grave, and if we follow you any further—we would be dead!" Ashe chided, panic slowly creeping up her spine at the thought of encountering the Magister again—they would probably not be so lucky this time.
"Keep your wits about you princess, we must hurry." The sky pirate was suddenly serious, padding through the room without a sound, urging the others to follow.
The party was lucky that there were no imperials patrolling by the Magister's quarters, the corridors leading up to them were also dark and deserted.
Balthier led the way, and it was not long before they were forced into quickly silencing a number of minor imperials and judges.
"They grow in number, we are close." Fran warned as she set another arrow in her longbow. So far, they had avoided detection, but the closer they came to the Solidor heir's chambers—the more imperials there were. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered.
"There, the double doors at the end of this corridor. Fran." Balthier nodded and Fran shot one Judge while Ashe and Balthier quickly rushed at the other. The attack was too swift that neither imperial had the chance to react before the party was upon them.
The pirate expertly picked the lock and slid inside. "Quickly now, we must get out of here before the bodies are discovered—or it will be the death of us."
The four padded into the outer room of Larsa's chambers and made their way to the main doors of the bedchamber. Balthier ran ringed fingers through his cropped hair with an exasperated sigh. "I abhor this kind of lock—I suppose the Empire really does keep their royalty very well protected."
Before anyone else could react, a large sword slid roughly beneath the sky pirate's chin, the blade creating a light cut across his neck. "Indeed it does, Ffamran."
Out of the shadows emerged none other than Judge Magister Gabranth, two swords in hand. One he held against Balthier's throat, the shorter pointed at the others. It surprised the whole group that none of them had seen nor heard the imperial at all.
"Well, it has been a while Gabranth." Balthier forced himself to remain calm as he backed away from the door, signalling for the others to not draw their weapons.
"I should cut you down where you stand. I will give you that mercy."
"We have not come for your mercy! Stand down Magister, we do not intend to leave without Larsa." Ashe hissed, hand tightening on the hilt of her sword.
"I do not intend to let you do the same." Gabranth raised the shorter sword to the princess' throat. "Either by my hand or by the imperials who will soon come—you will fall, disgraced Princess of Dalmasca."
Basch pressed the back of his hand against the blade pointed at Ashe's throat, coaxing the Judge to move it away. "You go too far Noah."
"And you presume too much!" The Magister all but growled as he shifted the blade to his twin's throat, his hand suddenly trembling in his effort to stay it. "I will kill you Basch fon Ronsenburg."
"You cannot keep him here against his will Gabranth." Balthier said matter-of-factly as he backed away from the sword held against him. "He will leave, under your guard or not."
"Until he has dismissed me from his service, Lord Larsa is under my charge!" Gabranth took a step forward, forcing the party to take a step back.
"Noah, we only wish to pro—"
"He is mine to protect, not yours!" The blonde shouted angrily, forgetting where they were, and quickly drew his body into his fighting stance—blue eyes flickering angrily.
Seeing as there was no other way around the situation, the party drew their weapons and engaged the Judge Magister in battle.
The sound of steel clashing angrily against each other rung loudly in the outer chamber—but neither Gabranth nor the others seemed to care anymore. The ringing of metal drowned out the soft click of the lock and the creak that came with it as one of the main chamber doors was pushed open from the inside.
"Gabranth—whatever is... oh gods!" Larsa, all sleep gone from his eyes, stared in wide-eyed horror as his Judge Protector and his friends exchanged blows, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
Not thinking about the indecency of wearing nothing but his night clothes, the young Solidor ran up to the group and tried to wedge himself in the middle of the battle.
"STOP! PLEASE, IN THE NAME OF IVALICE PLEASE STOP THIS MADNESS!" The boy cried, arms outstretched and tears spilling from wide, cobalt eyes—pleading at his protector.
Gabranth quickly withdrew, equally shocked as the rest of the party, but still kept a wary eye on the other group. "Return to your chambers Lord Larsa."
The blonde tried to step forward, but Larsa did not budge.
"My lord, please let me do my duty."
"They are my friends... Gabranth please, give me this."
Gabranth cursed under his breath but conceded. "Pray be quick Lord Larsa, the bodies will be discovered before long." He then turned to the party, "do not be so bold to think that I let you live."
"Twice. You've spared us twice actually." Balthier commented off-handedly, earning him sharp glares from around the chamber.
Larsa looked over to Basch and smiled weakly, "come Basch, there is much I wish to discuss with you."
"Larsa..!" Gabranth hissed before he could stop himself.
The Solidor heir's smile widened slightly as he noticed Gabranth's lack of formalities, but merely shook his head before leading Basch to the main chamber. "I will make haste."
"I must have your word that you will not harm my companions while we discuss the matters at hand." The Dalmascan Captain said firmly, eyes locked with Gabranth's.
"Lord Larsa has my word."
Basch and Larsa nodded to the others before disappearing behind the main chamber's doors.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
"This changes nothing between us, you will still be my enemy in the morning." Gabranth pointed his longer sword at the party, his voice was cold and unnerving even without his helm.
The Judge was agitated. It was against his better judgment to let them live, and moreso to allow his twin to be alone with Larsa. He could not overlook the lingering glances, the seemingly inadvertent touches, and the slight lilting of voices between the young lord and the Dalmascan captain, and Gabranth felt a near-uncontrollable urge to impale his brother immediately after he exited Larsa's bedchamber.
"We are still your enemy tonight, and still we came for him." Basch replied with a grave expression.
"Why you wish to die so badly, I do not care to understand."
"Enough." Larsa bit out, slightly annoyed at the constant bickering between the twin brothers. "Basch, Lady Ashe, Fran, and Balthier—I pray for your safe journey. If fates will have it, I will see you again."
The party said their short farewells before disappearing into the shadows, but the Captain lingered slightly longer before likewise turning on his heel to leave.
Once they were out of sight, Gabranth released the breath he did not realize he had been holding. He was so angry and frustrated that he could hardly think straight. His chest tightened, making it suddenly hard to breathe. The Magister clenched and unclenched his fists as he paced about the outer chamber, completely ignoring Larsa who worriedly looked up at him.
The young lord reached out a hand to his protector, "Gabranth... are you—"
Before he could finish, an armoured hand grabbed the Solidor's outstretched one, suddenly pulling close the surprised boy. "No, Lord Larsa. I am not alright. I come here, to guard you—to protect you as is my duty, only to let these people come in and do as they please with your consent! You withhold from me my duty, you shame my position—and you act without regard of your status." The grip on the small hand tightened as the blonde continued his tirade, "And you... just after this afternoon—you deny me my duty, to let him come here. To walk past me and talk behind closed doors. I do not—I cannot... understand."
The Judge Magister dropped Larsa's hand lest he crush it in his irritation and resolved to run his shaking hands through his short blonde hair—a gesture he had not done in a long time. "I must—I must take my leave of you."
Larsa ran up and threw his arms around his Judge Protector in a desperate attempt to stop him. "Gabranth, do not go! Please. Let me explain."
"My judgment is clouded by anger. I must ask that you let me be, Lord Larsa." The blonde's voice sounded distant as he tried his best to gently pry the fragile arms from around his waist.
"Forgive me Gabranth." Larsa whispered into Gabranth's cape, burying his face in the material—desperate to make the man stay. "I was thoughtless in my actions... but I swear to you—I have remained true."
The blonde grit his teeth but did not answer—jealousy easily overriding his reason.
Larsa released his hold on Gabranth, a deep frown suddenly set on his usually boyish face. "You doubt me then?"
"I have had reason to." The blonde hissed in reply.
"That matter is long past! I can do as I please." Larsa shouted angrily, rubbing his hand which Gabranth's armoured grip probably bruised.
"No, you cannot! It is about time you learned that you cannot simply do as you please without thinking of the consequences of your actions!" Gabranth retorted hotly, just as angrily—forgetting himself. "You cannot promise fidelity and still waltz about behind closed doors!"
"So, fidelity entails that you are my master, does it?" Larsa's voice shook with fury. "I'm your possession now, is that it?"
In response, Gabranth cupped Larsa's face roughly, forcing the young lord to look straight into his eyes which had turned almost black with pent-up rage.
"My possession, my lover, my property—I don't care what, as long as you are mine, do you not understand?" Gabranth growled in a low voice, his face so close to the Solidor's that his breath ghosted over the other's burning cheek.
Without warning, Larsa clutched at Gabranth's short hair, pulling the blonde strands painfully, and slammed his mouth against the Magister's.
Gabranth pulled back sharply at the assault, a surprised gasp allowing the Solidor to plunder his mouth with a vicious tongue. The Magister moaned involuntarily into the kiss, pulling Larsa closer while the boy ground his hips wantonly against him.
Before Gabranth could deepen the kiss, Larsa pulled away and uncharacteristically snarled at the blonde, cheeks flushed with exertion. "I'm yours aren't I? Then make me yours, Judge Magister. Take me! Take me so that I will remain your property!"
Larsa's fingers fumbled with the ties of his nightshirt as he thrust harder against Gabranth. Pleasure shot up from the blonde's groin in waves, and he could barely control himself. However, with much difficulty, Gabranth managed to clear his head enough to realize that this was not what he wanted. He did not want it to be this way.
"Lord Larsa, stop! Stop this... stop!" Gabranth gasped out as he grabbed both of Larsa's wrists, pushing him away, before he shook the boy to bring him back to his senses. Larsa, with dark hair dishevelled, stared back at him with wild eyes.
"So it is Lord Larsa now? What's the matter?" The young Solidor sounded unlike himself, his voice low and near-growling. "You are man enough to claim me as your property but not man enough to bed me? You are weak Judge Magister!" Larsa pulled himself loose, staggering backwards as the blonde released his wrists.
Gabranth reached out for the young lord again, "Lord Larsa, you are not my property..."
"Don't touch me!" Larsa cried out as he pushed the blonde's arms away. "Get out! Just... Just get out Judge Magister!" The young lord shouted as he spun around and marched to the bedroom, slamming the door angrily behind him.
Gabranth stormed out of the chambers, punching an unfortunate vase in his wake—the fragile crystal shattering on the marble floor like a thousand tears.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Lover's spat! :p I wanted to change things a bit—since they can't always be apologizing and loving all the time. I kinda liked how they both lost their temper. I especially enjoyed writing an angry Gabranth, since he's so calm all the time. But yeah—Basch can be a pain. XD I'm rambling—sorry.
Also—the part about Basch being older isn't true. I just made that up. :x
I've got the next chapter pretty much planned out too, so... let's hope for an early update.
Thanks for reading! Cheers!
Seph