FFVI - Locke/Terra, others
Sep. 6th, 2010 02:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lirillithTitle: Complicated
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Locke/Terra, Locke/Rachel, Locke/Celes
Length: 1560 words
Summary: Locke tries to deal with his emotional entanglements.
Warnings: None
Notes: Angst. Written for 30_hugs.
****
He'd never meant for things to get so complicated.
He'd meant to be true to Rachel, until he could bring her back, or until he died, whichever came first. He'd hoped he might be able to bring her back, but nothing he read or heard gave him any hope to speak of. "She's not really dead," he'd say to doctors when he cornered them in pubs or bought his way into their offices, "it's more like a coma, she can breathe," and they'd shake their heads.
"Sometimes you hear about these miracle recoveries, but there's nothing you can do to create a miracle," one said, and another told him that if there'd ever been anything that could help free her from a coma that it had gone with the age of magic. But most of them simply assured him there was no hope, nothing that anyone could do at all.
He'd tried to ignore them, but the words seeped in until he found himself thinking of Rachel as gone, as lost, not just sleeping, and while it always helped to go back to Kohlingen, to see her just as he remembered her, it wasn't enough, because each time, her eyes stayed closed, and her hand stayed slack and unresponsive in his.
He clung to her memory more fiercely than ever each time he found himself speaking of her as dead, rather than as missing or imprisoned or any of the other simpler stories he gave to avoid explaining the whole truth. Even if he could never bring her back, she wasn't truly gone. To give her up would be a betrayal, no different than if he took up with someone else when she was alive and well and waiting for him.
He told himself that even after he met Terra. It was just that Terra's amnesia reminded him of Rachel, that was the real reason he felt so protective of her; he felt bad for her, she was so confused and helpless, and of course he'd noticed she was pretty, but it wasn't the same as the way he felt for Rachel. And he told himself the same thing when he met Celes. He was attracted to her, but that wasn't love, and half of it was probably that she reminded him of Rachel; she'd needed help, and she didn't like needing help. That was like Rachel, too - she'd seemed standoffish at first, until he got to know her better and learned she was shy.
And then Terra had changed before their eyes, and disappeared, and he'd felt like someone had scooped his heart from his chest. He'd never expected to feel that way again, but Terra was gone, and things were stranger and more complicated than he'd imagined. She was a friend, he told himself, there was nothing wrong with being worried about a friend, but what he said was "I promised I'd protect her..." and when he looked up, Celes was staring at him.
He was worried about Terra, and guilty, and confused, and then when he saw Celes in a silk gown, carefully coiffed and poised and with her earlier scowl wiped from her face, he'd realized that "striking" - Edgar's term, but he'd thought it fit - wasn't the word at all. The word was "beautiful," and he could barely finish a sentence around her. She gave him one of her rare smiles, but he could at least, faintly, hope she hadn't noticed his reaction.
"Locke, thank you," she'd said, softly, the night after she'd hustled passage on the airship out of the gambler, after he'd wildly rejected letting her marry the man. He'd realized how close their shoulders were, and he'd thought of Terra and then of Rachel and he'd shrugged and said, casually, almost loudly compared to her tone, "No big deal. I just figured, you barely know the guy, you don't want to marry him. So you shouldn't feel obligated to for our sakes."
It wasn't simple. She was there, and she was beautiful - he didn't know how he hadn't seen it before - and he had other promises to keep besides keeping her safe, but he couldn't avoid her or give her the cold shoulder; she didn't deserve that, certainly not without an explanation, but how could he explain? He wanted to be her friend, and keep it at that, but he screwed up royally when he let her think he doubted her, and he didn't know how to fix it even if he ever got the chance.
And then she was gone and Terra was back, more sure of herself but curious about love, now, and asking all kinds of questions. And they were all learning magic, learning to do amazing things out of myths and songs, and with each new piece of magicite they found, new possibilities opened up. The age of magic was back, and there might be more amazing things around the corner. Things like the ability to call back wandering spirits, raise the dead, restore Rachel's soul and her vitality and her mind.
The prospect brought back the memory of her with a vengeance. "Sometimes it's like a blow to the chest, isn't it?" Setzer said to him once. "No matter how much time passes, sometimes it hits you." It hit him harder than it had in years, and he delved into the books in Figaro's library on one visit, hoping to find some hint or rumor or legend. A continent was floating over their heads, and all he cared about in the world was getting one girl in Kohlingen to sit up in bed, open her eyes, even just move her fingers so he'd know she was still there.
Terra had come looking for him in the library. He'd known before he ventured into the stacks that Edgar wanted to feed them all before they left, as if any of them had any clothes on hand that wouldn't make the servants sniff. The people of Figaro might follow their easy-going king's lead, but the palace staff still had standards. They seemed to have dressed her already - she was wearing a sky-blue sundress, and he caught himself staring. She didn't act as though she'd noticed, as she knelt next to him where he sat on the stone floor. "What are you reading?" she asked.
"Books about the war of the Magi, and Espers... you might be interested, too," he said, setting the book down in front of him. It was large enough and heavy enough that it stayed open.
"That's a good idea," she said. "What are you finding out?"
"I'm... mostly looking for one specific thing. Healing the mortally injured, or restoring consciousness. Things like that."
"Why?" she asked. "We have spells and phoenix feathers for that."
"Those only work on recent injuries, though... Terra, did I ever tell you about Rachel?" She shook her head no. "She was... I was going to marry her. But I wanted to show her something I'd found in this old cave, and the bridge I was on started collapsing - she pushed me to safety, but she fell, and she was badly hurt. Lost her memory." Terra looked like she might speak, but didn't. "Her parents blamed me - hell, I blamed me - and she didn't remember me, so I took off. Then there was an imperial raid, while I was away from Kohlingen. She'd gotten her memory back by then, I found out later. Shit, if I'd just waited..." He broke off, ashamed to find tears in his eyes, and turned away from her gaze for a moment. "The doctors were just waiting for her to die when I got there. I took her to this old retired apothecary on the edge of town, I paid him to look after her, and... that's it. I kept trying to find a way to make her better, but until now it was pretty hopeless. It still is, sort of, but I have to try."
"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yeah. In a way I still do," he said, and he hated in a way, but it was true, and then he kept talking, saying things he'd barely let himself think until after he met Terra. "I don't know what it'd be like if she came back. I've changed in five years, and hell, she had a year of amnesia since I knew her. We'd both have changed. But I loved her and I'd want to give it another chance." Simple as that. Difficult, but simple. If she came back, he wouldn't let himself think about any regrets, just try to start over with her, if she'd have him.
Terra bit her lip. "I know everyone thinks when I ask about love— I just want to know how it feels, that's all."
"It's... I don't know how to describe it," he said. "It's complicated." Especially now, with Terra's blue eyes on him and Celes still angry at him, try as she would to hide it, and Rachel's resurrection a distant, tenuous hope.
"Yeah," she said, her shoulders drooping. Without thinking, he reached out and put his arms around her, leaning over the book, and she returned the hug, her head resting on his shoulder. Just for a second or two, it could be simple.
****
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Locke/Terra, Locke/Rachel, Locke/Celes
Length: 1560 words
Summary: Locke tries to deal with his emotional entanglements.
Warnings: None
Notes: Angst. Written for 30_hugs.
****
He'd never meant for things to get so complicated.
He'd meant to be true to Rachel, until he could bring her back, or until he died, whichever came first. He'd hoped he might be able to bring her back, but nothing he read or heard gave him any hope to speak of. "She's not really dead," he'd say to doctors when he cornered them in pubs or bought his way into their offices, "it's more like a coma, she can breathe," and they'd shake their heads.
"Sometimes you hear about these miracle recoveries, but there's nothing you can do to create a miracle," one said, and another told him that if there'd ever been anything that could help free her from a coma that it had gone with the age of magic. But most of them simply assured him there was no hope, nothing that anyone could do at all.
He'd tried to ignore them, but the words seeped in until he found himself thinking of Rachel as gone, as lost, not just sleeping, and while it always helped to go back to Kohlingen, to see her just as he remembered her, it wasn't enough, because each time, her eyes stayed closed, and her hand stayed slack and unresponsive in his.
He clung to her memory more fiercely than ever each time he found himself speaking of her as dead, rather than as missing or imprisoned or any of the other simpler stories he gave to avoid explaining the whole truth. Even if he could never bring her back, she wasn't truly gone. To give her up would be a betrayal, no different than if he took up with someone else when she was alive and well and waiting for him.
He told himself that even after he met Terra. It was just that Terra's amnesia reminded him of Rachel, that was the real reason he felt so protective of her; he felt bad for her, she was so confused and helpless, and of course he'd noticed she was pretty, but it wasn't the same as the way he felt for Rachel. And he told himself the same thing when he met Celes. He was attracted to her, but that wasn't love, and half of it was probably that she reminded him of Rachel; she'd needed help, and she didn't like needing help. That was like Rachel, too - she'd seemed standoffish at first, until he got to know her better and learned she was shy.
And then Terra had changed before their eyes, and disappeared, and he'd felt like someone had scooped his heart from his chest. He'd never expected to feel that way again, but Terra was gone, and things were stranger and more complicated than he'd imagined. She was a friend, he told himself, there was nothing wrong with being worried about a friend, but what he said was "I promised I'd protect her..." and when he looked up, Celes was staring at him.
He was worried about Terra, and guilty, and confused, and then when he saw Celes in a silk gown, carefully coiffed and poised and with her earlier scowl wiped from her face, he'd realized that "striking" - Edgar's term, but he'd thought it fit - wasn't the word at all. The word was "beautiful," and he could barely finish a sentence around her. She gave him one of her rare smiles, but he could at least, faintly, hope she hadn't noticed his reaction.
"Locke, thank you," she'd said, softly, the night after she'd hustled passage on the airship out of the gambler, after he'd wildly rejected letting her marry the man. He'd realized how close their shoulders were, and he'd thought of Terra and then of Rachel and he'd shrugged and said, casually, almost loudly compared to her tone, "No big deal. I just figured, you barely know the guy, you don't want to marry him. So you shouldn't feel obligated to for our sakes."
It wasn't simple. She was there, and she was beautiful - he didn't know how he hadn't seen it before - and he had other promises to keep besides keeping her safe, but he couldn't avoid her or give her the cold shoulder; she didn't deserve that, certainly not without an explanation, but how could he explain? He wanted to be her friend, and keep it at that, but he screwed up royally when he let her think he doubted her, and he didn't know how to fix it even if he ever got the chance.
And then she was gone and Terra was back, more sure of herself but curious about love, now, and asking all kinds of questions. And they were all learning magic, learning to do amazing things out of myths and songs, and with each new piece of magicite they found, new possibilities opened up. The age of magic was back, and there might be more amazing things around the corner. Things like the ability to call back wandering spirits, raise the dead, restore Rachel's soul and her vitality and her mind.
The prospect brought back the memory of her with a vengeance. "Sometimes it's like a blow to the chest, isn't it?" Setzer said to him once. "No matter how much time passes, sometimes it hits you." It hit him harder than it had in years, and he delved into the books in Figaro's library on one visit, hoping to find some hint or rumor or legend. A continent was floating over their heads, and all he cared about in the world was getting one girl in Kohlingen to sit up in bed, open her eyes, even just move her fingers so he'd know she was still there.
Terra had come looking for him in the library. He'd known before he ventured into the stacks that Edgar wanted to feed them all before they left, as if any of them had any clothes on hand that wouldn't make the servants sniff. The people of Figaro might follow their easy-going king's lead, but the palace staff still had standards. They seemed to have dressed her already - she was wearing a sky-blue sundress, and he caught himself staring. She didn't act as though she'd noticed, as she knelt next to him where he sat on the stone floor. "What are you reading?" she asked.
"Books about the war of the Magi, and Espers... you might be interested, too," he said, setting the book down in front of him. It was large enough and heavy enough that it stayed open.
"That's a good idea," she said. "What are you finding out?"
"I'm... mostly looking for one specific thing. Healing the mortally injured, or restoring consciousness. Things like that."
"Why?" she asked. "We have spells and phoenix feathers for that."
"Those only work on recent injuries, though... Terra, did I ever tell you about Rachel?" She shook her head no. "She was... I was going to marry her. But I wanted to show her something I'd found in this old cave, and the bridge I was on started collapsing - she pushed me to safety, but she fell, and she was badly hurt. Lost her memory." Terra looked like she might speak, but didn't. "Her parents blamed me - hell, I blamed me - and she didn't remember me, so I took off. Then there was an imperial raid, while I was away from Kohlingen. She'd gotten her memory back by then, I found out later. Shit, if I'd just waited..." He broke off, ashamed to find tears in his eyes, and turned away from her gaze for a moment. "The doctors were just waiting for her to die when I got there. I took her to this old retired apothecary on the edge of town, I paid him to look after her, and... that's it. I kept trying to find a way to make her better, but until now it was pretty hopeless. It still is, sort of, but I have to try."
"You really loved her, didn't you?" she asked.
"Yeah. In a way I still do," he said, and he hated in a way, but it was true, and then he kept talking, saying things he'd barely let himself think until after he met Terra. "I don't know what it'd be like if she came back. I've changed in five years, and hell, she had a year of amnesia since I knew her. We'd both have changed. But I loved her and I'd want to give it another chance." Simple as that. Difficult, but simple. If she came back, he wouldn't let himself think about any regrets, just try to start over with her, if she'd have him.
Terra bit her lip. "I know everyone thinks when I ask about love— I just want to know how it feels, that's all."
"It's... I don't know how to describe it," he said. "It's complicated." Especially now, with Terra's blue eyes on him and Celes still angry at him, try as she would to hide it, and Rachel's resurrection a distant, tenuous hope.
"Yeah," she said, her shoulders drooping. Without thinking, he reached out and put his arms around her, leaning over the book, and she returned the hug, her head resting on his shoulder. Just for a second or two, it could be simple.
****
