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[ffxii] [fic] location, location, location
Final Fantasy XII ficlets. Posted on pain of severe poking from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chirachira and fabulous_papaya. I hope you're happy.
Proper posture was for ponces.
Of which Ffamran was one now, apparently. The chair was very uncomfortable one on which to do anything other than be perfectly straight backed. And his school uniform didn’t really afford for such trivial matters as mobility. And it was too tight around the waist. His father had not looked up from his desk, or the papers he was currently examining, eyes darting, lips moving silently.
“And that is how the cab struck me,” said Ffamran. “So you see, it was all one very lovely--”
Cid placed the papers on the desk and looked up. The crystals on the wall gave a brief dimming, as though the flow had been interrupted for just a moment. It happened on occasion. Usually when there was a flaw that had come under stress from over use, and the lights had been on in the old man offices for days on end of late. Ffamran had seen them. He’d seen them a lot of late.
“--misunderstanding,” the boy finished. The doctor’s gaze skimmed him briefly, then past his left shoulder, than to the right, then trailed up the ceiling, and this was all the warning he got before it happened again. The way it had come to. Cid broke into a very large smile.
“Aaah, Venat,” he murmured. “What’s this? There are ears in our walls? In the eighth level? Oh, no, that will not do. Who would have done a thing like that, I wonder!”
“...I’ll come back for this chiding some other time,” said Ffamran. He slid out of his seat. He brushed off of his sleeves. He left. The crystals gave another flick as the doors closed behind him, and he’d wondered if the old man had even noticed he had gone.
“I have not done this,” said Ashe, to herself. The aerodrome sprawled out in all directions around her. A family bustled by her, their belongings pushed along on a rolling cart. One of the cases caught her in the elbow and she leapt to the side, ready to lash out at the insult before she remembered she was just another person in a very large, busy space.
She rubbed her elbow and held it near her stomach, looking out along the crowd again. “This has not happened.” She shut her eyes and listened to the sounds. A couple was arguing in a corner (“and we would not have missed it if you had not taken so long in the weapons shop”). A father was telling his son about the better vacation spots in Bhujerba.
“May I help you--?” asked an attendant. He stepped a little too close. Ashe pulled away again immediately, angered at the presumption, no matter how unintentional. How close people stepped to one another. It was nothing like the polite distances she’d always known.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, and began to walk. She nearly crashed into a hurried man with a rucksack. A merchant of some sort. Flasks jingled as he moved. She stopped short of him, sidestepping in a motion fluid like water.
“Excuse me, Miss--
“Leave me be.”
A man took her by the arm. “Lady--”
“Let go!” Ashe smacked it away.
“Lady Ashe.” It was the Captain. Looking apologetic, his hand still hovering in the air where she had been a moment earlier. He had found her. Ashe dropped her fingers from where she had placed them near her hip, and the hilt of her sword, so ready to strike out in defense of her royal person.
“…ah,” she said, awkwardly. “I…I thought to have a look…”
Basch blinked rapidly, but he allowed her peace in that respect. He rested the arm that had so offended back at his side, though somewhat stiffly, as though he were still schooled in the motion of bringing it across his chest to bow. It was an effort to do neither of these things. It was too crowded for it not to raise a few eyebrows. “The others wait by the docent. Balthier mentioned he would rejoin us on the hour. We will leave then… have you had your fill of the sights? Or shall we return? I would ask to accompany you either way. If it is no trouble, that is.”
Ashe glanced over her shoulder warily, then lifted her nose and stepped near his side. It was not so difficult to navigate in this place. One had only to follow the boards. She had had been in no trouble whatsoever. “I have seen enough,” she said, coolly. “Take me back.” She lifted her hand; the right one. It was an apology in of itself. She offered it as freely as her pride allowed.
The former knight’s was fixed quietly on it, the poise in her fingers, and the muted silver of her ring. He accepted it with great care. “As you wish,” he said, and led her back.
“Name the Emperor of the Sixth Rule.”
“Emperor Baltus.”
“He most famously fought in…”
“The battle of Carridas.”
“Against?”
“The Romandan Seige Army.”
“To defend?”
“Fort Carridas.”
“Which was?”
“A strategically placed fortress in the Western provinces, meant as a buffer against invasion from the Romandan Airfleet.”
“And the battle was waged…”
“By land. The Romandans sent only a decoy fleet, while having slowly brought their armies in seized trading vessels from continents in the Far East. The terrain was rough and ill-suited for a ground army. They believed the advanced nature of their siege engines could compensate that.”
“Could they?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Emperor Baltus had his men dig into the many stone caverns and ruins that remained open when the tides were low. They were given instructions not to emerge until the advance forces had passed overhead. Thus our Imperial forces were able to sunder, and encircle the bulk of the invading army.”
“It was?”
“A terrible loss of life.”
“Do better.”
“…mm. For them. Therefore it was our military success. Negotiations were opened soon afterwards. A treaty was signed. The war ended.”
“It is good to see our young lord has kept up with his studies in our recent absence.” The Judge Magister stopped pacing at the balcony, faceless plate turning back to the young prince. Larsa remained at rigid attention in his chair. He kept his back straight and head steady. He had been taught not to slouch, and to e-nuun-ciate, if you please. He had kept up with that as well. “His Excellency shall be pleased.”
“Judge Drace honors me with her praise.” Larsa inclined his head slightly, an elegant dip. His eyes did not quite follow with the movement, remaining upward turned and fixed on the judge's form. The corner of his lips twitched. “I know better than many how hard-earned it is.”
“Hm? Is that some criticism of my regiment, Lord Larsa?”
The boy laughed. “No, not at all! In fact, I’ve quite missed it.”
The Judge shook her head. It was an impressive motion, the swing of her elaborate helm that followed it. “Then my young lord shows a nerve my men do not share. Still, I am glad to be welcomed thus, although I do not recall teaching you such sentimentality.”
“No,” Larsa covered his mouth to hide a smile, and fixed his posture immediately when she shifted again. The light filtered through the tree set in the middle of the stonework rendered her armor a speckled sort of glory. “You did not.”
“Good. A mind of one’s own is a rare commodity this day and age. Remember that.” She turned back towards the view, and all of Archades in its hot summer colors. When the rain came it was brown and grey, but in the waning sun it seemed nothing but a sea of gold. “We shall move on to astronomy. I expect that you have kept up to date with your charts. How many heavenly bodies do the astrologers recognize?”
“Twelve.”
“Name them.”
“The Ram. The Bull. The Twins…”
chirachira and fabulous_papaya. I hope you're happy.Proper posture was for ponces.
Of which Ffamran was one now, apparently. The chair was very uncomfortable one on which to do anything other than be perfectly straight backed. And his school uniform didn’t really afford for such trivial matters as mobility. And it was too tight around the waist. His father had not looked up from his desk, or the papers he was currently examining, eyes darting, lips moving silently.
“And that is how the cab struck me,” said Ffamran. “So you see, it was all one very lovely--”
Cid placed the papers on the desk and looked up. The crystals on the wall gave a brief dimming, as though the flow had been interrupted for just a moment. It happened on occasion. Usually when there was a flaw that had come under stress from over use, and the lights had been on in the old man offices for days on end of late. Ffamran had seen them. He’d seen them a lot of late.
“--misunderstanding,” the boy finished. The doctor’s gaze skimmed him briefly, then past his left shoulder, than to the right, then trailed up the ceiling, and this was all the warning he got before it happened again. The way it had come to. Cid broke into a very large smile.
“Aaah, Venat,” he murmured. “What’s this? There are ears in our walls? In the eighth level? Oh, no, that will not do. Who would have done a thing like that, I wonder!”
“...I’ll come back for this chiding some other time,” said Ffamran. He slid out of his seat. He brushed off of his sleeves. He left. The crystals gave another flick as the doors closed behind him, and he’d wondered if the old man had even noticed he had gone.
“I have not done this,” said Ashe, to herself. The aerodrome sprawled out in all directions around her. A family bustled by her, their belongings pushed along on a rolling cart. One of the cases caught her in the elbow and she leapt to the side, ready to lash out at the insult before she remembered she was just another person in a very large, busy space.
She rubbed her elbow and held it near her stomach, looking out along the crowd again. “This has not happened.” She shut her eyes and listened to the sounds. A couple was arguing in a corner (“and we would not have missed it if you had not taken so long in the weapons shop”). A father was telling his son about the better vacation spots in Bhujerba.
“May I help you--?” asked an attendant. He stepped a little too close. Ashe pulled away again immediately, angered at the presumption, no matter how unintentional. How close people stepped to one another. It was nothing like the polite distances she’d always known.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, and began to walk. She nearly crashed into a hurried man with a rucksack. A merchant of some sort. Flasks jingled as he moved. She stopped short of him, sidestepping in a motion fluid like water.
“Excuse me, Miss--
“Leave me be.”
A man took her by the arm. “Lady--”
“Let go!” Ashe smacked it away.
“Lady Ashe.” It was the Captain. Looking apologetic, his hand still hovering in the air where she had been a moment earlier. He had found her. Ashe dropped her fingers from where she had placed them near her hip, and the hilt of her sword, so ready to strike out in defense of her royal person.
“…ah,” she said, awkwardly. “I…I thought to have a look…”
Basch blinked rapidly, but he allowed her peace in that respect. He rested the arm that had so offended back at his side, though somewhat stiffly, as though he were still schooled in the motion of bringing it across his chest to bow. It was an effort to do neither of these things. It was too crowded for it not to raise a few eyebrows. “The others wait by the docent. Balthier mentioned he would rejoin us on the hour. We will leave then… have you had your fill of the sights? Or shall we return? I would ask to accompany you either way. If it is no trouble, that is.”
Ashe glanced over her shoulder warily, then lifted her nose and stepped near his side. It was not so difficult to navigate in this place. One had only to follow the boards. She had had been in no trouble whatsoever. “I have seen enough,” she said, coolly. “Take me back.” She lifted her hand; the right one. It was an apology in of itself. She offered it as freely as her pride allowed.
The former knight’s was fixed quietly on it, the poise in her fingers, and the muted silver of her ring. He accepted it with great care. “As you wish,” he said, and led her back.
“Name the Emperor of the Sixth Rule.”
“Emperor Baltus.”
“He most famously fought in…”
“The battle of Carridas.”
“Against?”
“The Romandan Seige Army.”
“To defend?”
“Fort Carridas.”
“Which was?”
“A strategically placed fortress in the Western provinces, meant as a buffer against invasion from the Romandan Airfleet.”
“And the battle was waged…”
“By land. The Romandans sent only a decoy fleet, while having slowly brought their armies in seized trading vessels from continents in the Far East. The terrain was rough and ill-suited for a ground army. They believed the advanced nature of their siege engines could compensate that.”
“Could they?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Emperor Baltus had his men dig into the many stone caverns and ruins that remained open when the tides were low. They were given instructions not to emerge until the advance forces had passed overhead. Thus our Imperial forces were able to sunder, and encircle the bulk of the invading army.”
“It was?”
“A terrible loss of life.”
“Do better.”
“…mm. For them. Therefore it was our military success. Negotiations were opened soon afterwards. A treaty was signed. The war ended.”
“It is good to see our young lord has kept up with his studies in our recent absence.” The Judge Magister stopped pacing at the balcony, faceless plate turning back to the young prince. Larsa remained at rigid attention in his chair. He kept his back straight and head steady. He had been taught not to slouch, and to e-nuun-ciate, if you please. He had kept up with that as well. “His Excellency shall be pleased.”
“Judge Drace honors me with her praise.” Larsa inclined his head slightly, an elegant dip. His eyes did not quite follow with the movement, remaining upward turned and fixed on the judge's form. The corner of his lips twitched. “I know better than many how hard-earned it is.”
“Hm? Is that some criticism of my regiment, Lord Larsa?”
The boy laughed. “No, not at all! In fact, I’ve quite missed it.”
The Judge shook her head. It was an impressive motion, the swing of her elaborate helm that followed it. “Then my young lord shows a nerve my men do not share. Still, I am glad to be welcomed thus, although I do not recall teaching you such sentimentality.”
“No,” Larsa covered his mouth to hide a smile, and fixed his posture immediately when she shifted again. The light filtered through the tree set in the middle of the stonework rendered her armor a speckled sort of glory. “You did not.”
“Good. A mind of one’s own is a rare commodity this day and age. Remember that.” She turned back towards the view, and all of Archades in its hot summer colors. When the rain came it was brown and grey, but in the waning sun it seemed nothing but a sea of gold. “We shall move on to astronomy. I expect that you have kept up to date with your charts. How many heavenly bodies do the astrologers recognize?”
“Twelve.”
“Name them.”
“The Ram. The Bull. The Twins…”
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