Final Fantasy XII: Family Love (Larsa, Penelo)
Title: Family Love
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters/Pairings: Larsa, Penelo
Rating: PG
Summary: Larsa, Penelo, and the idea of familial love. Larsa's a loyal brother.
Family Love
"You can come with us," Penelo said, kneeling at his feet, clutching his hands between hers. Larsa stared down at her, wondered when he'd sat, and wondered why her eyes looked so cold and so sad, all at once. "We can take you anywhere, Dalmasca, the Estersand, Rozarria--"
"Did you," Larsa interrupted, "love my father?"
Penelo's eyes looked colder, and her mouth looked sadder, and Larsa wished he had never loosed his tongue.
"No," Penelo said after a moment. "I hated him. But not you, you're different."
"Am I?" Larsa asked. He frowned, kicked at the floor. Still to short to touch it, still too much a child, and the thought burned at him. "I loved my father. I love my brother. Is that wrong, Penelo?"
"No, but--" Penelo's fingers tightened about his, her face pale. "He'll kill you."
"I don't think so," Larsa said slowly, "but if he did, I wouldn't give much care. I'd think myself lucky, I think." He lifted her hands, kissed her fingertips, and smiled at her, feeling tired and cold. "You fight for your family, Penelo, and I shall fight for mine. Perhaps, in the end, we'll both have found something to keep us."
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters/Pairings: Larsa, Penelo
Rating: PG
Summary: Larsa, Penelo, and the idea of familial love. Larsa's a loyal brother.
Family Love
"You can come with us," Penelo said, kneeling at his feet, clutching his hands between hers. Larsa stared down at her, wondered when he'd sat, and wondered why her eyes looked so cold and so sad, all at once. "We can take you anywhere, Dalmasca, the Estersand, Rozarria--"
"Did you," Larsa interrupted, "love my father?"
Penelo's eyes looked colder, and her mouth looked sadder, and Larsa wished he had never loosed his tongue.
"No," Penelo said after a moment. "I hated him. But not you, you're different."
"Am I?" Larsa asked. He frowned, kicked at the floor. Still to short to touch it, still too much a child, and the thought burned at him. "I loved my father. I love my brother. Is that wrong, Penelo?"
"No, but--" Penelo's fingers tightened about his, her face pale. "He'll kill you."
"I don't think so," Larsa said slowly, "but if he did, I wouldn't give much care. I'd think myself lucky, I think." He lifted her hands, kissed her fingertips, and smiled at her, feeling tired and cold. "You fight for your family, Penelo, and I shall fight for mine. Perhaps, in the end, we'll both have found something to keep us."