[Final Fantasy IX] Unmasking
Title: Unmasking
Status: Incomplete
Fandom: Final Fantasy IX
Pairings/Characters: Zidane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, spoilers
Notes: Companion fic to "Masquerade"
Summary: What happened after the events in the Iifa Tree?
Pain was entirely too weak and pale a word to describe what he felt, Zidane decided as he dragged himself the last few inches from the roots of the Iifa Tree. Agony fell a little short of the mark too, as did torment. Groaning, he tried to crawl farther and found it was totally beyond his remaining strength. He let himself fold to the ground and took a moment to figure out if he'd injured himself further.
His right leg throbbed like a bitch, which was unsurprising given that it was broken in at least two places. Not to mention his broken right ankle. His left ankle and knee were both sprained, but that could have been significantly worse. He could tell, by the pain that breathing caused, that he had several broken ribs. His left wrist and collarbone were broken, accompanied by a strained elbow and a dislocated shoulder. His right wrist was strained, but that was none too bad. He had strained his right shoulder dragging himself out of the convulsing, dying tree. From the way his vision blurred, he could guess he had a concussion.
And all that was in addition to the various cuts, bruises, and scrapes he'd acquired.
Given what he'd just been through, he was grateful to be alive, no matter what condition he was in.
He'd come out of the battle with Necron relatively unscathed, and Garnet's powerful Curaga had taken care of his minor injuries. He still didn't know what had possessed him to dive into the Iifa Tree to speak to his brother. The look of fear and love on Garnet's face as she leaned over the rail of the airship had torn his heart. God, he'd wanted to be on that airship next to her, cuddling her close now that it was all over.
But he couldn't leave the business with Kuja unfinished.
So he'd tumbled down the writhing roots to where Kuja's broken body lay. They hadn't spoken much. Zidane didn't remember very much of that. But he did remember what Kuja had said at the last. "I finally realized what it means to live, but I guess I was too late."
And Zidane had thought of what it meant to him to live, and Garnet's face came to mind.
So he had left his dead brother lying in the roots of the Iifa Tree and started to climb out. The broken bones were from the rough trip down and the falls he'd sustained climbing in his injured condition. And what he wouldn't give for the wonderful cool tang of a Hi-Potion soothing the throbbing aches in his body, if only momentarily.
He knew he was dangerously weakened and lying near something that was just waiting to kill someone. He forced open blackened eyes and squinted up at the Iifa Tree. It swayed in some invisible wind like seaweed writhing in a vicious riptide. Branches were torn off and scattered. Mist exploded from the roots in violent white jets, arcing skyward through the violent motion of the tree.
He had no reason to hope that anyone would come out here looking for him. Garnet might, but God, he didn't want her to see him like this. He had that much pride left. Her powerful White Magic would soothe the wounds, faster than any normal healer, but he didn't want to see the pain in her face when she cast the spells to heal him.
He'd promised her that he'd come back.
Slowly, through the pain-wracked haze that seemed to be taking over his mind, he drew out a faint memory of his Tantalus days. The troupe had small, magical beacons that they used if one of them was ever in desperate trouble--beacons that sent a magic signal flying back to headquarters to tell them where the troubled member was.
Zidane winced at the pain in his strained shoulder as he dug into his pocket. Surely he hadn't lost it. No, there it was, small and round and smooth. He pulled it out just to be sure. Yes, the troupe's insignia was there. He brought it over to his left hand so he could twist it open and let the signal free.
He felt the rush of the little spell as it took off and sighed a little. Help would be on its way.
He looked up at the Iifa Tree and saw a branch plummeting toward him. He tried to twist out of the way, but his mangled body wouldn't obey. He felt the starburst of pain when it hit him, and then darkness.
~*~
"I think he's coming around."
"He's going to need this, then."
"The hell is that?"
"It's a mixture of a Hi-Potion and some other things. It will help with the pain from all those broken bones."
Who were they talking about? He tried to move, to open his eyes, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He felt weighted down.
"Easy there, Zidane. You've had a rough time of it, but you're safe now." The voice was calm and soothing.
Zidane? Was that his name? He thought it over and decided that it would do as well as any, because he certainly didn't know his.
His eyelids felt glued shut. He kept trying to pry them open. Finally one drifted open a crack, revealing a bright yellowy glow. He tried again. Gradually his eyes eased open and he blinked cautiously against the flood of yellowish light.
Moving shapes gradually resolved themselves into coherent images. An old gentleman was bending over him, a man with a tremendous nose, glasses so thick they could have been windowpanes, and bushy red hair. He wore a top hat and a dreadful brown coat.
"Ah, you're back with us, then, young Zidane." The gentleman turned and fussed with something for a moment, then turned back with a glass of deep emerald green liquid in his hands. "Drink this. It'll help." He held the glass to Zidane's lips.
To his surprise, it didn't taste like poison, but rather like something sort of fruity and sort of sweet but kind of tangy. He swallowed carefully.
Now that he'd had something to wet his parched throat, he tried to form questions to fill in all the tremendous gaps in his mind. "Who....you?" he croaked.
The gentleman froze in the act of putting the glass aside and pushed his glasses farther up on his nose. "You don't remember me?"
"Who....I?" he asked. Dammit, his tongue wouldn't cooperate.
The gentleman sighed and put the glass down. "I am Dr. Tot. And you are Zidane Tribal."
"Know....you?"
"In a manner of speaking. I am Princess--excuse me, Queen Garnet's former tutor."
That name seemed familiar. If he concentrated, he could almost see a lovely face with a delicate pointed chin, thick brown hair, sparkling brown eyes. He frowned, trying to find more details. The wavering, blurry face slowly settled, perched on a slender neck and smooth shoulders. A white peasant-style blouse and....a yellow jumpsuit? Yes, and he could remember thinking that she filled out that blouse very nicely. Not to mention the crystal pendant that hung just over her breasts. Well, you couldn't blame a man for looking could you?
This Garnet....why did he remember her so clearly? She was beautiful, and that might have been it, but he had the vague disquieting feeling that they had known each other well. He swallowed, opened his mouth to ask another question, and was racked by a coughing fit.
Dr. Tot pressed a glass of water to his lips, which he swallowed gratefully. Some of the godawful pain had started to fade, he noticed. When the glass was drawn away and set aside, he took a moment to put the sentence together carefully. "Garnet and...I know....each other?"
"Why yes, you were rather in love with each other it seemed." He looked surprised.
In love with her? He thought about it for a moment and it seemed to fit. "Is she....here?"
"No, she's in Alexandria. I can send for her if you wish," Dr. Tot replied.
"No! Not....like this." After the first instinctive cry his voice cracked and fell to a whisper. "Not....broken."
Dr. Tot looked at him severely over his glasses, which had slid down his nose again. "Young man, do you mean to tell me that you intend me to go back to Alexandria and tell the Queen that I do not know where her beloved is?"
He took a moment to gather up his meager strength. It occurred to him that he was a fighter and should be much stronger than this, but he tucked the thought away to deal with later. "I don't want...her to see me....like this. Not when I...can barely....remember....her face," he said, breathing harshly as he tried to get all the words out.
Dr. Tot sighed and pushed his glasses up. "You young people. Do you think the Queen would not love you because you've had very severe injuries including a nasty knock on this rather hard head of yours?"
He was in love with a Queen. He couldn't quite bend his mind around that concept. And she loved him back? But he was just a....just a....damn it, what was he?
Status: Incomplete
Fandom: Final Fantasy IX
Pairings/Characters: Zidane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, spoilers
Notes: Companion fic to "Masquerade"
Summary: What happened after the events in the Iifa Tree?
Pain was entirely too weak and pale a word to describe what he felt, Zidane decided as he dragged himself the last few inches from the roots of the Iifa Tree. Agony fell a little short of the mark too, as did torment. Groaning, he tried to crawl farther and found it was totally beyond his remaining strength. He let himself fold to the ground and took a moment to figure out if he'd injured himself further.
His right leg throbbed like a bitch, which was unsurprising given that it was broken in at least two places. Not to mention his broken right ankle. His left ankle and knee were both sprained, but that could have been significantly worse. He could tell, by the pain that breathing caused, that he had several broken ribs. His left wrist and collarbone were broken, accompanied by a strained elbow and a dislocated shoulder. His right wrist was strained, but that was none too bad. He had strained his right shoulder dragging himself out of the convulsing, dying tree. From the way his vision blurred, he could guess he had a concussion.
And all that was in addition to the various cuts, bruises, and scrapes he'd acquired.
Given what he'd just been through, he was grateful to be alive, no matter what condition he was in.
He'd come out of the battle with Necron relatively unscathed, and Garnet's powerful Curaga had taken care of his minor injuries. He still didn't know what had possessed him to dive into the Iifa Tree to speak to his brother. The look of fear and love on Garnet's face as she leaned over the rail of the airship had torn his heart. God, he'd wanted to be on that airship next to her, cuddling her close now that it was all over.
But he couldn't leave the business with Kuja unfinished.
So he'd tumbled down the writhing roots to where Kuja's broken body lay. They hadn't spoken much. Zidane didn't remember very much of that. But he did remember what Kuja had said at the last. "I finally realized what it means to live, but I guess I was too late."
And Zidane had thought of what it meant to him to live, and Garnet's face came to mind.
So he had left his dead brother lying in the roots of the Iifa Tree and started to climb out. The broken bones were from the rough trip down and the falls he'd sustained climbing in his injured condition. And what he wouldn't give for the wonderful cool tang of a Hi-Potion soothing the throbbing aches in his body, if only momentarily.
He knew he was dangerously weakened and lying near something that was just waiting to kill someone. He forced open blackened eyes and squinted up at the Iifa Tree. It swayed in some invisible wind like seaweed writhing in a vicious riptide. Branches were torn off and scattered. Mist exploded from the roots in violent white jets, arcing skyward through the violent motion of the tree.
He had no reason to hope that anyone would come out here looking for him. Garnet might, but God, he didn't want her to see him like this. He had that much pride left. Her powerful White Magic would soothe the wounds, faster than any normal healer, but he didn't want to see the pain in her face when she cast the spells to heal him.
He'd promised her that he'd come back.
Slowly, through the pain-wracked haze that seemed to be taking over his mind, he drew out a faint memory of his Tantalus days. The troupe had small, magical beacons that they used if one of them was ever in desperate trouble--beacons that sent a magic signal flying back to headquarters to tell them where the troubled member was.
Zidane winced at the pain in his strained shoulder as he dug into his pocket. Surely he hadn't lost it. No, there it was, small and round and smooth. He pulled it out just to be sure. Yes, the troupe's insignia was there. He brought it over to his left hand so he could twist it open and let the signal free.
He felt the rush of the little spell as it took off and sighed a little. Help would be on its way.
He looked up at the Iifa Tree and saw a branch plummeting toward him. He tried to twist out of the way, but his mangled body wouldn't obey. He felt the starburst of pain when it hit him, and then darkness.
~*~
"I think he's coming around."
"He's going to need this, then."
"The hell is that?"
"It's a mixture of a Hi-Potion and some other things. It will help with the pain from all those broken bones."
Who were they talking about? He tried to move, to open his eyes, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He felt weighted down.
"Easy there, Zidane. You've had a rough time of it, but you're safe now." The voice was calm and soothing.
Zidane? Was that his name? He thought it over and decided that it would do as well as any, because he certainly didn't know his.
His eyelids felt glued shut. He kept trying to pry them open. Finally one drifted open a crack, revealing a bright yellowy glow. He tried again. Gradually his eyes eased open and he blinked cautiously against the flood of yellowish light.
Moving shapes gradually resolved themselves into coherent images. An old gentleman was bending over him, a man with a tremendous nose, glasses so thick they could have been windowpanes, and bushy red hair. He wore a top hat and a dreadful brown coat.
"Ah, you're back with us, then, young Zidane." The gentleman turned and fussed with something for a moment, then turned back with a glass of deep emerald green liquid in his hands. "Drink this. It'll help." He held the glass to Zidane's lips.
To his surprise, it didn't taste like poison, but rather like something sort of fruity and sort of sweet but kind of tangy. He swallowed carefully.
Now that he'd had something to wet his parched throat, he tried to form questions to fill in all the tremendous gaps in his mind. "Who....you?" he croaked.
The gentleman froze in the act of putting the glass aside and pushed his glasses farther up on his nose. "You don't remember me?"
"Who....I?" he asked. Dammit, his tongue wouldn't cooperate.
The gentleman sighed and put the glass down. "I am Dr. Tot. And you are Zidane Tribal."
"Know....you?"
"In a manner of speaking. I am Princess--excuse me, Queen Garnet's former tutor."
That name seemed familiar. If he concentrated, he could almost see a lovely face with a delicate pointed chin, thick brown hair, sparkling brown eyes. He frowned, trying to find more details. The wavering, blurry face slowly settled, perched on a slender neck and smooth shoulders. A white peasant-style blouse and....a yellow jumpsuit? Yes, and he could remember thinking that she filled out that blouse very nicely. Not to mention the crystal pendant that hung just over her breasts. Well, you couldn't blame a man for looking could you?
This Garnet....why did he remember her so clearly? She was beautiful, and that might have been it, but he had the vague disquieting feeling that they had known each other well. He swallowed, opened his mouth to ask another question, and was racked by a coughing fit.
Dr. Tot pressed a glass of water to his lips, which he swallowed gratefully. Some of the godawful pain had started to fade, he noticed. When the glass was drawn away and set aside, he took a moment to put the sentence together carefully. "Garnet and...I know....each other?"
"Why yes, you were rather in love with each other it seemed." He looked surprised.
In love with her? He thought about it for a moment and it seemed to fit. "Is she....here?"
"No, she's in Alexandria. I can send for her if you wish," Dr. Tot replied.
"No! Not....like this." After the first instinctive cry his voice cracked and fell to a whisper. "Not....broken."
Dr. Tot looked at him severely over his glasses, which had slid down his nose again. "Young man, do you mean to tell me that you intend me to go back to Alexandria and tell the Queen that I do not know where her beloved is?"
He took a moment to gather up his meager strength. It occurred to him that he was a fighter and should be much stronger than this, but he tucked the thought away to deal with later. "I don't want...her to see me....like this. Not when I...can barely....remember....her face," he said, breathing harshly as he tried to get all the words out.
Dr. Tot sighed and pushed his glasses up. "You young people. Do you think the Queen would not love you because you've had very severe injuries including a nasty knock on this rather hard head of yours?"
He was in love with a Queen. He couldn't quite bend his mind around that concept. And she loved him back? But he was just a....just a....damn it, what was he?