FFVI - Celes
Sep. 6th, 2010 02:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lirillithTitle: Fear
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Celes, Cid
Length: 226 words
Summary: Celes on the Solitary Island.
Warnings: None
Notes: Hooray for the fish-catching game. Woo. A 15-minute fic.
****
The grease was congealing on her plate; she knew she ought to eat it, sop it up with bread, if there were any bread. Scoop it up with a fingertip, maybe. More than that, she ought to urge Cid to do the same, scrape it onto his plate - she called him Granddad now because it always seemed to raise his spirits a little, but it was hard to change the habit, mentally. She knew they both needed all the nourishment they could get, even if it looked unappetizing, even if she wasn't quite hungry enough to think the fish tasted good.
She'd split them up, taking the small one with the rusty-looking spots on its scales and the milky eyes and putting it aside. She'd fried the larger one that had flopped and struggled and nearly gotten away and served that one to Cid before she fixed the sickly-looking one for herself. She didn't want to let herself think it might be wasted effort, but it was hard to push the thoughts down; his cough didn't seem to be getting much better, and he kept saying things that sounded like farewells, kept thanking her for all she'd done for him until she wanted to scream. And he kept saying his worst nightmare was to think of her alone on that island.
It was hers, too.
****
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Celes, Cid
Length: 226 words
Summary: Celes on the Solitary Island.
Warnings: None
Notes: Hooray for the fish-catching game. Woo. A 15-minute fic.
****
The grease was congealing on her plate; she knew she ought to eat it, sop it up with bread, if there were any bread. Scoop it up with a fingertip, maybe. More than that, she ought to urge Cid to do the same, scrape it onto his plate - she called him Granddad now because it always seemed to raise his spirits a little, but it was hard to change the habit, mentally. She knew they both needed all the nourishment they could get, even if it looked unappetizing, even if she wasn't quite hungry enough to think the fish tasted good.
She'd split them up, taking the small one with the rusty-looking spots on its scales and the milky eyes and putting it aside. She'd fried the larger one that had flopped and struggled and nearly gotten away and served that one to Cid before she fixed the sickly-looking one for herself. She didn't want to let herself think it might be wasted effort, but it was hard to push the thoughts down; his cough didn't seem to be getting much better, and he kept saying things that sounded like farewells, kept thanking her for all she'd done for him until she wanted to scream. And he kept saying his worst nightmare was to think of her alone on that island.
It was hers, too.
****
