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 19 happens a year after the game (actual game epilogue timeline).

Author's Notes: Just the usual apology for grammatical eyesores. Please do enjoy. :)

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It's hard to believe a year has passed so quickly. Rabanastre is finally back to the way it was. Like when my parents were still alive. We've lost so much. But I think it's important to put the past behind us and keep our eyes on the road ahead.

Larsa felt a small smile tug on his lips as he read Penelo's letter—though he was also filled with a sense of longing for the great adventure they all once shared. Penelo's letters were always a relief and a comfort to read after days upon days of tedious paperwork, but they were also a grim reminder of the freedom he was not allowed to experience.

Ashe's coronation is next month. She grows farther and farther away from us... but I guess that's how it has to be. She is Queen now, after all.

"Queen... hm. Does not make much difference from Lord Regent, does it?" Larsa spoke to himself ruefully as he closed his eyes in deep thought. It was a little hard to believe that a year had already passed, everything had happened so quickly—there was scarcely any time for Larsa to take everything in. One moment he was the fourth son, the next he was Lord Regent to the Empire... had it not been for the exigencies of the situation, Larsa would have been overwhelmed. However, a year into the events and the toll of the circumstances began to wear the young lord thin—like spreading butter over too much bread. Larsa sighed, looking back at the letter.

I am looking forward to seeing you at the ceremony.

A Judge Magister entered the Lord Regent's study, bowing slightly before taking off his helm. "You called, my lord?"

Larsa handed over the letter to Basch, leaning back in his chair as the older man continued reading it aloud.

How is Basch? I know he went with you to Archades "to further the cause of peace in Ivalice"... but still, I hope he comes back to Rabanastre, and Ashe, soon. She has to keep up appearances now, so she would never say it... but I think she misses him.

"So the Lady Ashe misses her knight in shining armour. Perhaps it is time I returned you to her service—I have kept you long enough, Basch." Larsa smiled good-naturedly at the Dalmascan, though his eyes betrayed the apprehension that had begun to churn in the pit of his stomach.

Basch eyed the young regent carefully, not missing the flash of unmasked trepidation which Larsa tried desperately to shield. "The Lady Ashe is not the only one who has to keep up appearances now, so it seems."

"Basch..."

"I am no fool, Lord Larsa. I see the great extent of your effort to keep him at arm's length. I know it is not easy to be Lord Regent at so young an age... but my lord, pushing Noah away will not lighten your burden."

"You do not understand! I—"

"I see how you drift apart—as the Lady Ashe does from her friends. But it should not be the same with you. There is no need for keeping up appearances with Noah... I know he misses you greatly."

Larsa closed his mouth, his resolve crumbling under the assault. It was true... he had been so afraid of bringing duty and Empire into their relationship that he had ended up isolating Noah—pushing him away in the false belief that this was for the better. In the end, here he was—keeping up appearances with the one person he had no need to do so.

"I had not known... I just thought that—I did not want him to feel as if he was holding me back... I just..." Larsa trailed off as his lower lip trembled to contain the sobs which threatened to escape. "I want him back, Basch. I miss him terribly."

Basch looked at the helmet he had left on the wooden desk and smiled. "He was never gone, Lord Regent, you need only look."

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"I believe an explanation is in order." Gabranth announced as he leant on the doorframe of his older twin's doorway. "I am waiting, brother."

Basch looked over his shoulder, hands not ceasing as they folded his garments carefully. "Explanation for what, Noah?"

Gabranth did not miss the slight lilt at the end of Basch's question, a definite indication that the latter was drawing him out. He bit his lip as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Your armour is in my chambers. I would like to know what it is doing there." And taking note of what his older brother was doing, the blonde added, "I would also like to know what you are doing."

Basch stopped from his folding and turned to look at his brother, an expression of mirth on his face. "As I recall, it is your armour—and I see little reason for you to question why I have returned something which belongs to you. It is only proper that I do so."

"Do not toy with me, brother!" The blonde huffed impatiently as he walked over and sat on Basch's neatly folded garments. "Tell me."

"Very mature, Noah." Basch shook his head as he tried to push the other blonde off his bed but the other did not so much as budge. Realizing that his struggle was futile, Basch took a seat on his bed—next to his twin, suddenly serious.

"I am to leave for Rabanastre the day after tomorrow. Lord Larsa—the Lord Regent and I have come to an agreement that it is time for me to resume my proper place, by the Lady Ashe's side."

Gabranth raised an eyebrow at this. "Your proper place? And who was it that told you that it is your proper place to stand by the Lady Ashe?"

"My heart."

The younger twin snorted, waiting for some sign that it was a jest—but Basch remained serious. "Your heart? This folly is unlike you, brother."

"No, not folly." Basch stood up and began gathering his belongings and putting them inside a pack. "I have followed my heart this far, it has not lead me wrong. Call me the fallen knight of fallen kingdoms, but I have not been lead astray."

"I do not understand you."

"Tell me, Noah. What does your heart tell you?"

Gabranth shook his head as he rested it between his hands resignedly. "Nothing that honor and duty would allow."

"What your heart tells you... and what honor and duty require of you—are they mutually exclusive?"

"Surely you do not suggest. Brother, Larsa is Lord Regent!"

"Where is your place, Noah?" Basch gripped his younger twin's tunic tightly, his tone, fierce.

With equal fire, Gabranth stood up and glared at his brother, fists balled in the other's tunic. "By Larsa's side, may he be Lord, Regent, or Emperor!"

"Then take it! I am done playing roles which are not mine to play!" Basch released his grip as he resumed packing.

With a smile, Gabranth sprawled himself over his brother's belongings on the bed, head resting on an arm propped up on one elbow. "I take it you found it difficult protecting the Lord Regent?"

"Not as difficult as loving him, I would imagine." Basch laughed at his twin's flabbergasted expression as the latter rolled over and hid his quickly reddening face.

"Well. It is best that I go now." Gabranth abruptly stood up, still refusing to meet his brother's amused gaze. "It would not do well for the Lord Regent to be without his Judge Protector."

"Indeed." Basch grasped one of Gabranth's hands in his, slipping a small object into it. "I shall see you at the coronation, Noah."

Puzzled though he was, Gabranth accepted the small object. "Aye, I shall see you then."

On the way back to his chambers, the blonde opened his hand and saw a small, delicate ring in the middle of his scarred palm. "Mother's wedding ring." Gabranth whispered to himself as he broke out into genuine laughter. "You are impossible, brother."

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The night before leaving Archadia, three days before Ashe's coronation...

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"Lord Regent." Gabranth greeted as he entered Larsa's chambers, the title still felt strange rolling off his tongue.

Larsa quickly put down the book he was reading and beamed up at the blonde. "Gabranth, you've come! I thought we had agreed it is to be Larsa when we are alone... just Larsa. Or have you forgotten?"

The blonde removed his helm and placed it on the mantelpiece as he approached the young regent, locking the doors behind him. "Forgive me, Larsa, formalities stick to me much like bad habits—very hard to break."

"Is that so, Judge Magister?" Larsa smiled coyly as he reached up to Gabranth and began unclasping the cape from his armour. "It did not seem the case, last night..."

Gabranth raised his brows at Larsa's innuendo, but allowed himself a smile as he discarded his gauntlets and began unhinging his Judicer's plate. "I do not seem to remember, perhaps I need..." The cape fluttered to the floor, followed by the magister plate, then greaves, and boots. "A bit of reminding?"

The Judge lifted Larsa easily and laid him on the bed, hovering over the boy for a moment. Larsa looked up at Gabranth, small hands reaching up to cup the older man's face as he raised himself slightly to kiss him. Larsa's kisses were always innocent—soft, delicate, and unassuming.

Gabranth pulled back and spooned Larsa from behind, drawing the small boy tightly against his chest. The Solidor sighed in contentment as he pressed back against the reassuring warmth of his Judge Magister, entwining his fingers with Gabranth's own. They stayed in their embrace, only the sound of their quiet breathing between them in comfortable silence—a rare comfort for both.

"I am... truly glad we are alright again, Gabranth." Larsa breathed as he raised his head to nuzzle beneath the older man's chin.

"As am I..." The blonde replied as he planted a light kiss on the boy's hair. "Larsa, for—"

"No." Larsa quickly cut the Magister off as he turned around, his head now tucked under Gabranth's chin. "It is I who should apologize, Gabranth. I had not known how my actions have hurt you..."

"There is nothing to forgive." Strong arms tightened around Larsa's small form as he was drawn into an embrace. "I have said it before, and I shall say it again. I am yours as long as you shall have me."

Larsa trailed a finger lightly down the blonde's throat and lower still, between the gap in his half-opened tunic, until the digit pressed against the cool metal of the small ring which hung on the thin chain around Gabranth's neck. Larsa had noticed that Gabranth had begun wearing it less than a month ago, but never had the courage to ask—though his heart always ached at the sight of it.

A wife? A former lover? A childhood sweetheart?

Larsa shook his head to drive the pervasive thoughts away. Gabranth was his now, was he not? He was to be with him always. Gabranth had given his word. Pushing his fears aside, Larsa pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the hollow of the blonde's throat, making Gabranth gasp in surprise. Though caught off-guard, the Judge did not protest as soft lips trailed up, feather-light kisses dancing upon his own.

"And I am yours, Gabranth, if you shall have me."

It was the only warning Larsa was going to give the blonde. If Gabranth wanted to stop him, now was the time, before he ended up ruining the moment—again. But Gabranth did not pull away, not when Larsa's mouth met his in another kiss, firmer this time. There was only slight hesitation before Gabranth responded, lips softening and mouth gasping open slightly, rolling them over gently so that he hovered above Larsa. Gabranth did not let the chance pass him by, there had been too much of that. Rough, calloused fingers slid up into dark hair, his fingers tangling in that warmth and using it to draw Larsa's mouth closer.

Gabranth had taken his chance, daring to cross the line he had so stubbornly placed between them. Now he was asking for confirmation—that he had not misunderstood; that Larsa wanted him as much as he did—that this was at least part of what the young regent had hoped to receive from him. Larsa parted his lips, working his mouth against the Judge's in gentle invitation. Gabranth sank into that invitation with a sigh that sounded as if a huge weight was lifted from his chest. Gabranth could not stop himself—for the first time in a long while, he did not want to stop himself, from meeting the young lord halfway to sliding into Larsa's mouth, into the addicting sweetness that was the Solidor.

Neither heard the sharp knocking on the double doors over the ringing in their ears before a distinct voice broke through their heated consciousness.

"Lord Regent, your Grace! Forgive my intrusion. It is Maester Pycelle. There is an important matter which must be discussed at once before your departure."

Gabranth froze, his arms still braced on either side of the young lord's head. Larsa looked up with equally wide eyes as he bit his lip, a healthy blush rising to his cheeks. The young lord spared a look at the double doors, thankful that they were locked and more than half wishing that the Grand Maester would think he was resting and leave. For a tense moment, neither spoke—holding their breaths as if the slightest sound would give them away. A minute had passed when Gabranth dipped his head again to plant another kiss on Larsa's lips before another series of sharp knocks assaulted the oaken doors.

Gabranth rolled off the young lord and lay on his back, running tense fingers through his clipped blonde hair. Larsa laid a hand gently on Gabranth's chest with an apologetic look on his face as he got up and tried to fix himself best he could. "I am sorry. This will not take long."

Larsa cracked open the chamber doors slightly, so slight was the opening that the elderly council member could scarcely see more than half of the Lord Regent. "Yes, Grand Maester? What matter must I look into at this hour?" Larsa tried to sound normal, though he felt like he had run for miles.

Maester Pycelle gave the lord regent a quizzical look, but decided to pay no mind to the regent's questionable behaviour. "Ah, yes, yes. It seems you have not left someone to take your stead whilst on your State visit to Dalmasca. We must set that appointment at once, Lord Regent. Shall I summon the small council?"

"No, no..." Larsa quickly put in, intent on not leaving his chambers—and a half-undressed Judge Magister in the middle of... something. "I will make the appointment now. Judge Magister Zargabaath is to take care of things in my absence. Will that be all, Grand Maester?"

The old man opened his mouth as if to say something more, but decided against it—it was probably not a good time. "No... that will be all on my part Lord Regent." Maester Pycelle bowed respectfully before he took his leave. "Rest you well, young lord, it seems you are in great need of it."

Larsa quickly locked the door behind him as he returned to the bed and to the waiting Judge Magister. Without a word, Gabranth's hand came up, cupping the back of Larsa's head as his other arm wrapped around the boy's body to close the small distance that still separated them. If there had been doubt before, there was none now; their bodies clearly betraying their desire for one another. Gabranth's erection found friction against Larsa's hip and he gasped, pulling away from the kiss. He rested his forehead against Larsa's as he ground against him, almost unable to breathe as the pleasure coursed through him. Sliding his cheek against Larsa's, Gabranth pulled the earring he found into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue, refusing to release it until he earned a soft, drawn out moan.

"Lord Regent! Forgive the lateness of the hour, but there are pressing concerns which must be settled before you leave."

Gabranth's hips stilled at the voice beyond the door and he sighed. This was not turning out the way it was supposed to. Larsa chewed on his lower lip as he looked at the locked doors over his shoulder, panting and still out of breath. "Perhaps I shouldn't..."

"No, you should." Gabranth decided as he gave the young regent a gently kiss on the lips, pulling Larsa off him and smoothening his rumpled tunic. "I will be alright."

"But Gabranth... I—"

"Your Grace?" The unmistakable voice of the Treasury Maester asked through the oak.

A frown settled on Larsa's features as he again proceeded to the doors and cracked one open to peer outside. "Maester Lewyn, what concerns must I settle at this hour?"

Archadia's Master of Coin looked up from his records and noted the Lord Regent's dishevelled appearance, but decided not to take heed of it. "Your Grace, the cost of the Royal Visit is yet to be confirmed... as well as the Empire's tribute to the Lady Ashe on her coronation. Perhaps fifteen million gil in gold? Or would the Lady Ashe prefer an airship from the Imperial Fleet? No? Perhaps a set of diamonds from our finest jewellers... which would amount to... Let me see..." Maester Lewyn began mentally computing the costs, much to Larsa's annoyance. Normally this sort of thing did not bother him in the least... but he was not in the most normal of situations at that moment.

"Maester... I trust your best judgment in these matters." Larsa started as he rubbed his temples to rid the oncoming headache. "I am truly, very tired... and I wish to retire early this evening. You must forgive me for not settling these matters earlier."

The treasurer stopped his mental computations and took pity on the young regent. He smiled understandingly as he tucked his parchments under an arm before bowing graciously. "Of course, your Grace. I shall see to it that the tribute is prepared by tomorrow. Rest you well."

Larsa had scarcely taken two steps from locking the doors when another sharp knock interrupted his return to the bed. The boy gave an exasperated sigh as he threw Gabranth another apologetic look. For the third time that evening, Larsa cracked open the door to his chambers.

"Zargabaath, what brings you to my chambers at this hour?"

The Judge Magister bowed, helm tucked under an arm. "Your Excellency, about your Royal Visit to Rabanastre... shall I send the Alexander and the 12th Fleet with you?"

Larsa shook his head, but smiled at the older Judge's fatherly concern. "The Alexander is our finest warship, I would not want Rabanastre in a panic at the mere sight of it. Perhaps the light class carrier Shiva will do... and no more than twenty Imperials."

"Twenty? Your Excellency, that is much too few. As Maester of Defense of Archadia, I cannot let you go with such lax security!" Zargabaath looked scandalized at the mere suggestion. "I will send a hundred of my best soldiers and no less." The Judge's tone left no room for argument.

"Perhaps you've forgotten that Judge Magister Gabranth is accompanying me as well."

"I have already noted the fact, Lord Regent." Zargabaath replied with a fond smile. "That is why I have assigned only a hundred and not the whole 12th Fleet."

"I am honoured by your concern, thank you Zargabaath."

"Ah yes, I have almost forgotten. The small council has gathered to discuss a few urgent matters and your presence is requested." The Judge looked at Larsa's frown. "But perhaps I may convince them to reconvene after your visit?"

Larsa looked over his shoulder to where Gabranth had sat up on one side of the bed. The blonde nodded his ascent to the boy's silent question.

"I shall make haste to prepare. I shall meet you with the council in a short while. Thank you, you may take your leave Zargabaath."

Gabranth met Larsa halfway back to the bed and lifted the boy in his arms, lips pressing gently against Larsa's own.

"Forgive me, Gabranth. There is just so much that need be done..." Larsa sighed into Gabranth's shoulder as he let himself be held just a while longer.

"I understand, Larsa." Gabranth smiled as he helped the young regent into his more formal garb. "Only too well."

The blonde took note of the ever-deepening frown on Larsa's lips and he kissed the boy again. "There will be time enough for us soon."

Larsa allowed himself a small smile as he watched the Judge meticulously put on his armour, not missing the way the blonde held the small ring for a moment before slipping it beneath his tunic, followed by the hinging of his Judicer's plate. The boy tore his eyes away, the familiar feeling of jealousy bubbling up in his chest.

Gabranth kissed Larsa one last time before he put on his helm, opening the door to let the Solidor exit first.

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Yes, I shamelessly ripped Maester Pycelle and all other references to the small council from the Game of Thrones. Haha.

I had to cut this chapter into two parts because I didn't want the scenes to jump from Archadia to Dalmasca, and it was getting too long for its own good.

Poor Gabranth!

Part two will be up shortly. Till then, enjoy!

Seph