requiems: (final fantasy ⓭ judge)
rems ([personal profile] requiems) wrote in [community profile] thisisyourstory2010-06-04 09:21 pm

[fic] Final Fantasy XIII - Broken

Title: Broken
Author: [personal profile] requiems
Series: Final Fantasy XIII
Characters: Fang. Mentions Vanille, Lightning, Sazh, Hope, and Snow.
Rating: PG
Type: Drabble
Summary: Fang's not like the other l'Cie.
Notes: Indirect spoilers up to chapter 10 and Bahamut's arrival.

When they talked – not just her and Vanille, but when everyone talked – it hit her.

At first it was only a niggling sensation, the kind when you knew you were forgetting something important but couldn't quite put your finger on it. Unlike that, though, it didn't dissipate when she put her finger on it – no. It just grew wider, swallowing her whole. She knew exactly what it was, and it never really left her alone; it was only now and then when it really did.

She wasn't one of them.

Their l'Cie brands pulsed. The prongs of each line grew, sometimes quick, sometimes not at all – but they grew. The eyes gradually opened, red, ominous, deadly. The four who had been chosen by the fal'Cie in Bodhum. No. It wasn't just them – it was Vanille as well. Each one kept an eye on it, constantly knowing its presence, the power that it brought them.

True, Fang had that. She had the magic; she had the gifts. She had the presence, though it was dull.

But hers was frozen.

She wasn't one of them.

It was still; never did the frozen crystal stasis really leave her arm. It wasn't like her arm was cold, or anything, never true crystal – but it was like the brand itself was suspended in time. Each morning was like a wish and a prayer – would something have changed? Would she be like the rest? Part of her wanted to be. Part of her hated being so far from Vanille – not being in that niche group that would die when the clock struck twelve. Not being able to really understand the pain, even if she had the memories from hundreds of years before - even though the ending ones were hazy at best. That was her wish when she opened her eyes – that she would be a true, normal, unbroken l'Cie.

But she never was.

And that was when, guiltily, she felt thankful, the thanks knocking her off her feet, the worry subsiding for one more day – or, at least, until the next time she looked at her arm.

She was a l'Cie. But a frozen l'Cie.

A broken l'Cie.

Because she wasn't one of them, because she was different, it was easy to see the recklessness. Or maybe there was another reason.

That was why it was so easy to disagree with them. So easy to say no. So easy to say she wasn't going to let them all abandon their focus and to become Cie'th and to effectively die – that would mean Vanille would die, too.

That would mean their old Focus would be a waste.

It would mean that she would be alone, frozen, lost.

Broken. Truly. Not just as a l'Cie; but as a human, too.