Fic: Nor A Lender Be (Gabranth, Vayne, Drace, worksafe)
Nor A Lender Be
"He has no charity in his heart, whatever his appearances."
FFXII, Gabranth, Vayne, Drace. 500 words.
Worksafe. Mild spoilers
Lord Vayne was young in face and form but old in speech, old and sweet-tongued. Recognizing this fact did not make Judge Gabranth immune to it.
"You are of Landis, are you not?" Vayne asked as they walked along the terraces.
"I am Archadian," Gabranth said: he had practiced so well he could speak without hesitation or flinching.
"Well enough. I have never understood the prejudices against colonials. Archadia's strength is in her ability to see potential and incorporate it into herself." Vayne put a gloved hand on Gabranth's gauntleted wrist. "I look forward to witnessing your inevitable rise."
***
"Congratulations," Lord Vayne said, putting his head on one side with a little smile that said --
Oh.
"This was your doing," Gabranth said. It was not a question.
Vayne's smile widened into the look of a schoolmaster pleased by his pupil's prowess. "Not entirely," he said, his voice silky. "My influence could not have been entirely effective if you were not fit for the Magistry. Say instead that I . . . expedited the process."
Gabranth said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"Come now," Vayne said. "Drink with me. There is no reason not to celebrate. You have achieved a great thing."
***
They fought with blunted practice swords, but still the swords had a great weight behind them, and each falling blow left bruises in its wake. Drace did not go easily on Gabranth.
"Come now," she said, when they paused; in the chamber of her helm her voice echoed. "You are distracted."
"Perhaps I am."
She raised her visor and said, wryly, "Lord Vayne preys on your mind?"
He hesitated, and then said, "Yes."
"Be wary. Though it may cost me dear to speak so plain, I must tell the truth: he has no charity in his heart, whatever his appearances."
***
It was not, he thought in his cups, that he discounted Drace's advice. She spoke truth, as she saw truth: that was her strength, and weakness. Rather, it was too late for him.
He poured another flagon of sweet wine and drank without tasting it.
He had tried to tame the esper, and found himself tamed instead: Lord Vayne's horned monster at heel. He had gained his status. If there was a price to pay, he would pay it; he did not believe in truth, but he did believe in honor. In that, at least, he and Drace were alike.
***
"I did not expect you at so late an hour," Lord Vayne said.
"Do not treat me as you would a fool," Gabranth said, voice heavy. "I am many things, but I am not that."
"Indeed not. Still, I do not understand what brings you to my door."
"You surely know," Gabranth said. "I owe you a debt. I would not leave it unpaid."
Vayne smiled a little, then. "I should not extract payment from you in such a manner."
"Then how -- "
Lord Vayne smiled a little again, ancient with guile. "You will understand," he said, "when the time comes."
"He has no charity in his heart, whatever his appearances."
FFXII, Gabranth, Vayne, Drace. 500 words.
Worksafe. Mild spoilers
Lord Vayne was young in face and form but old in speech, old and sweet-tongued. Recognizing this fact did not make Judge Gabranth immune to it.
"You are of Landis, are you not?" Vayne asked as they walked along the terraces.
"I am Archadian," Gabranth said: he had practiced so well he could speak without hesitation or flinching.
"Well enough. I have never understood the prejudices against colonials. Archadia's strength is in her ability to see potential and incorporate it into herself." Vayne put a gloved hand on Gabranth's gauntleted wrist. "I look forward to witnessing your inevitable rise."
***
"Congratulations," Lord Vayne said, putting his head on one side with a little smile that said --
Oh.
"This was your doing," Gabranth said. It was not a question.
Vayne's smile widened into the look of a schoolmaster pleased by his pupil's prowess. "Not entirely," he said, his voice silky. "My influence could not have been entirely effective if you were not fit for the Magistry. Say instead that I . . . expedited the process."
Gabranth said nothing. There was nothing to say.
"Come now," Vayne said. "Drink with me. There is no reason not to celebrate. You have achieved a great thing."
***
They fought with blunted practice swords, but still the swords had a great weight behind them, and each falling blow left bruises in its wake. Drace did not go easily on Gabranth.
"Come now," she said, when they paused; in the chamber of her helm her voice echoed. "You are distracted."
"Perhaps I am."
She raised her visor and said, wryly, "Lord Vayne preys on your mind?"
He hesitated, and then said, "Yes."
"Be wary. Though it may cost me dear to speak so plain, I must tell the truth: he has no charity in his heart, whatever his appearances."
***
It was not, he thought in his cups, that he discounted Drace's advice. She spoke truth, as she saw truth: that was her strength, and weakness. Rather, it was too late for him.
He poured another flagon of sweet wine and drank without tasting it.
He had tried to tame the esper, and found himself tamed instead: Lord Vayne's horned monster at heel. He had gained his status. If there was a price to pay, he would pay it; he did not believe in truth, but he did believe in honor. In that, at least, he and Drace were alike.
***
"I did not expect you at so late an hour," Lord Vayne said.
"Do not treat me as you would a fool," Gabranth said, voice heavy. "I am many things, but I am not that."
"Indeed not. Still, I do not understand what brings you to my door."
"You surely know," Gabranth said. "I owe you a debt. I would not leave it unpaid."
Vayne smiled a little, then. "I should not extract payment from you in such a manner."
"Then how -- "
Lord Vayne smiled a little again, ancient with guile. "You will understand," he said, "when the time comes."