breyzyyin: (Breyzy: I won't let go of what makes me)
breyzyyin ([personal profile] breyzyyin) wrote in [community profile] moogle_workshop2014-06-29 11:49 am

{Fan Fic} Regret

Username: Breyzy (of [personal profile] breyzyyin)
Class: Warrior
Title: Regret
Summary: A Gabranth character introspection fic. De-anon from the Villain Fic Challenge.
Characters/Pairings: No pairings. Gabranth is central character. Makes mentions of or allusions to Basch and Larsa.
Word count: 605
Rating/warnings: PG. SPOILER WARNING for what happens to Gabranth at the end of Final Fantasy XII.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII or any FFXII characters! They are the rightful property of Square-Enix.

“Have you your fill of this?”

There was always hesitation. He would be a fool to not say so.

He wondered how many others would admit to it so easily. How many others second guessed their actions? How many others acted without confidence?

He saw how easily some moved. He saw how readily they took to arms and how quick they were to act.

With every footstep, he wondered. With every footstep, he faltered.

“Am I doing the right thing?”

The arm holding up his sword would waver. He would often wonder how visible the shaking of his hand was. Did others notice that his blade wobbled? Did they notice that his sword was not held steady?

Did his doubt make his actions look sloppy? Did it make him look weak?

“What is the right thing?”

He didn’t have the answer to his own question. The lingering regrets, the haunted memories, and the lives he had taken: he felt they were pulling him all in different directions.

He was being pulled apart.

There were moments when he lingered, unsure of what to do. However, he always acted in the end. He always picked a path to walk. He never decided to not move.

“Were my actions wrong?”

Quietly, he tormented himself. His actions tortured him. He would be his own downfall. He realized he would never ask for his own redemption.

He was used. He was a tool to be tossed aside once he was no longer necessary. He was only here because he was needed to play a part. Like everyone else in this damned world, he had a role to play.

“All was stripped from me.”

He had to take part in the tragedy. He wanted to say he never had a choice.

Perhaps if he told himself it enough he would start to believe it to be true. But, he knew. He knew that he was lying.

He knew he didn’t believe his own lies.

“I am sorry.”

Always. He always had a choice. He accepted that he usually just chose wrong.

He could never say it, but he was sorry all the same.

The blood seeped into the floor from his blade.

It stained the ground, stained the metal, and stained his hands. He couldn’t clean them. He didn’t think it was right to clean them anymore.

He wanted to say that he regretted nothing. He wanted to say that he did what he did because he believed his actions to be right. That he believed himself to be just.

“Only hatred for the brother who fled our homeland remains mine!”

He wants to say these things, but he knows they are not true. He has regrets.

He regrets everything. He has done so many things, but not one of them he is proud of. He wonders if others feel the same.

Are they broken by the lives they picked to live? Are they too so easily destroyed by the decisions they have made? Do they too find no resolve in their own actions? Are they too so drenched in sins?

“Yes, I will defend Lord Larsa.”

He knows that one action does not make up for all that “Gabranth” did wrong. He has done so many things wrong over the course of his life.

But it was the first time he moved without hesitation. It was the first time his sword did not waver.

As his eyes close one last time, Noah realizes it was the first time he has ever acted without regret.

For a moment in his life the torture ends and he feels peace. Then his breathing stops.

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