FFVIII FIC: Inaudax [Lineā IV] (Quistis, Seifer)
Title: Inaudax [Lineā IV]
Author:
regann
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings: Quistis, Seifer
Summary: In D-District Prison at the mercy of the Edea's Knight, Quistis doesn't trust the situation or the knight -- even if the knight is Seifer. Talk of torture. Set during the game.
Author's Preliminary Notes: This is the fourth in a set of eight one-shots that all happen within the same timeline/arc around the events of Final Fantasy VIII. They are all Quistis and/or Seifer centric, some gen while a few have overt Seifer/Quistis leanings.
Together they form a coherent story but each one-shot can be enjoyed separately.
The series all together is called, Lineā, from the Latin, meaning a boundary-line, bound, limit, end, goal -- the way it is used in the proverb, amare extremā lineā, meaning "to love from afar."
Previous stories in the series: I. Ignus | II. Vigil | III. Xystus
L i n e ā
IV. Inaudax (Cowardice)
Quistis didn't bother struggling as the guards hauled her out of her cell but she didn't make her transport easy for them either. When they finally grew tired of her passive resistance and shoved her along ahead of them, she couldn't help but spare a moment of concern for her team members, especially the missing ones -- Irvine and....Squall.
Of them all, she worried least about Rinoa. Her father was still a high-ranking member of the Galbadian military, sorceress or no. Quistis doubted that the general would have much trouble calling in a few favors to save his headstrong daughter from a death sentence or life in prison.
She had seen Irvine melt into the crowds when the soldiers had surrounded their position in the Gate Room, so she assumed he'd gotten away -- whatever good that would do them. She didn't know the sniper very well and she didn't place much trust in his loyalty to a group of SeeDs from Balamb.
Squall, on the other hand...
She hadn't seen him since the Sorceress's attack had taken him down in battle; she wasn't even sure if he were alive or dead. Deep in her heart, she clung to the hope that he was alive. Anything less than that hope would have crippled her resolve -- Zell's and Selphie's, too, she was sure.
The guards had finally brought her to their destination and they yanked her the last few steps, across a threshold and into another room. As she stumbled to a halt, the first thing her eyes landed on were two familiar boots that bled up into dark pants and the fluttering edge of a gray trench coat that she'd recognize anywhere.
She straightened, glaring at each man in turn.
Seifer smirked as he dismissed the guards. "Wait outside the door," he told them. "I doubt she'll last long."
As soon as the door closed, Seifer circled Quistis like a vulture, eyes raking up and down her as he tapped the blunt edge of his gunblade against his shoulder.
Quistis stood stock-still, tense with waiting. A few weeks ago, she'd never think to be afraid in Seifer's presence but so much had happened in the last several days that she was sure of nothing but her own wariness. Seifer was rash, unpredictable -- volatile and dangerous. She could believe anything of him now that she'd seen with her own eyes that he'd joined forces with the Sorceress.
"Hello, again, Instructor."
"...Seifer." Quistis twisted her head a little to track his movement.
"I bet you're wondering why I had you brought up here."
Quistis didn't reply, simply folded her arms and waited.
Seifer seemed to take her silence as a challenge. "So it's like that, is it? Fine. I've got a few questions for you."
"Do you, really?" Quistis's eyebrows rose. "Surely, you know better."
He stood in front of her, gunblade still on his shoulder. "Come on, Trepe. Play nice."
"You know I won't answer any questions."
"Tell me what SeeD is."
Quistis hid her confusion about his strange question but she refused to be cowed or intimidated. She came to attention. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years. Country of Residence, Balamb. Personal Identification Number, 014-08162."
Seifer laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Very nice. Try Again. Tell me what SeeD is."
She met his eyes evenly, reflecting a feigned calm in the face of his pique. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Seifer growled, pushing into her space. He didn't touch her but it was a near thing. "Why don't you just answer the damn question, Instructor? I know you know it! You, the teacher's pet, the golden girl SeeD! You have to know the secret they're hiding from me and the Sorceress."
She bit her tongue to keep from asking the questions rising in her mind. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years. Country of Reside..."
Fast -- faster than Quistis cared to admit -- Seifer had her spun around, one arm clamped across her body to keep her pinned against him and the other holding the sharp edge of his gunblade against her throat.
"You'd better just spill," he told her, voice soft and menacing, right next to her ear.
She fought against the urge to cringe at the implied violence in his voice. Quistis wanted to be able to see his eyes -- see if she could read anything in them that reminded her of the Seifer she'd known a week, a month, a year ago -- but the cold bite of the blade against her throat kept her still.
"I don't understand what it is you're asking," she admitted.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," he said, pulling the blade a little closer. Her breath caught in her throat. "Keep on resisting and it'll only be worse on you."
By their own accord, her eyes followed the jerk of his elbow toward a far wall where implements, unmistakably made for torture, lay. Their purpose was easy to divine from the dangling restraints and the wiring that suggested electrical shock coupled with the power switch that confirmed it.
"Torture, Seifer?" she forced her derision past her fear, even as his arm tightened around her in warning. "What happened to the Seifer who wanted to be noble? Who wanted to help?"
"I am helping!" He was loud, almost shouting in her ear. "I'm helping Sorceress Edea stop you! It's a noble duty I have now – I’m a Sorceress's knight!"
"No!" Her volume rose to match his. "This isn't noble, it's not anything you wanted to be. It's torture and dishonorable and all you are is playing into whatever nefarious plans she has!"
"Shut up, Trepe!" Suddenly, he was shaking her and she was facing him again and his gunblade had clattered to the floor. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
But she kept speaking, even as he shook her in his rage, as she struggled to free herself from his grip, words tumbling from her mouth with the kind of non-thought behind them that used to characterize their shouting matches when they'd been younger. "You can't believe this, you can't! And if you do, if you do this, you're nothing but a coward! Do you hear me, Seifer? A coward!"
"Guards!" He roared and the two waiting soldiers appeared. He literally threw Quistis at them, her body colliding with theirs and only staying upright by their combined efforts. "Take her away. She's not going to talk."
"What about...?" one of the guards asked, looking pointedly toward the "interrogation" device.
"Later," he said, glaring at her with eyes empty of anything she'd known good of him. "There's somebody else I want to give it a spin first. So, after you take her back, bring up our "special" friend," he ordered, watching in malicious enjoyment as Quistis balked. "The injured one."
"Oh, no," she said more to herself than to Seifer. She moved as if to rush him but the guards held her. "Oh, no. Squall? You're talking about Squall, aren't you? Seifer!"
"You could've stayed and talked but you declined," he said. "Now it's time for me to try someone else."
As they dragged her away again, Quistis clung to the growing hope, born in those ashes, that Squall was, indeed, alive.
Finit.
Notes: My friendbravely acted as my cheerleader on this series.
Author:
regannRating: PG-13
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings: Quistis, Seifer
Summary: In D-District Prison at the mercy of the Edea's Knight, Quistis doesn't trust the situation or the knight -- even if the knight is Seifer. Talk of torture. Set during the game.
Author's Preliminary Notes: This is the fourth in a set of eight one-shots that all happen within the same timeline/arc around the events of Final Fantasy VIII. They are all Quistis and/or Seifer centric, some gen while a few have overt Seifer/Quistis leanings.
Together they form a coherent story but each one-shot can be enjoyed separately.
The series all together is called, Lineā, from the Latin, meaning a boundary-line, bound, limit, end, goal -- the way it is used in the proverb, amare extremā lineā, meaning "to love from afar."
Previous stories in the series: I. Ignus | II. Vigil | III. Xystus
L i n e ā
IV. Inaudax (Cowardice)
Quistis didn't bother struggling as the guards hauled her out of her cell but she didn't make her transport easy for them either. When they finally grew tired of her passive resistance and shoved her along ahead of them, she couldn't help but spare a moment of concern for her team members, especially the missing ones -- Irvine and....Squall.
Of them all, she worried least about Rinoa. Her father was still a high-ranking member of the Galbadian military, sorceress or no. Quistis doubted that the general would have much trouble calling in a few favors to save his headstrong daughter from a death sentence or life in prison.
She had seen Irvine melt into the crowds when the soldiers had surrounded their position in the Gate Room, so she assumed he'd gotten away -- whatever good that would do them. She didn't know the sniper very well and she didn't place much trust in his loyalty to a group of SeeDs from Balamb.
Squall, on the other hand...
She hadn't seen him since the Sorceress's attack had taken him down in battle; she wasn't even sure if he were alive or dead. Deep in her heart, she clung to the hope that he was alive. Anything less than that hope would have crippled her resolve -- Zell's and Selphie's, too, she was sure.
The guards had finally brought her to their destination and they yanked her the last few steps, across a threshold and into another room. As she stumbled to a halt, the first thing her eyes landed on were two familiar boots that bled up into dark pants and the fluttering edge of a gray trench coat that she'd recognize anywhere.
She straightened, glaring at each man in turn.
Seifer smirked as he dismissed the guards. "Wait outside the door," he told them. "I doubt she'll last long."
As soon as the door closed, Seifer circled Quistis like a vulture, eyes raking up and down her as he tapped the blunt edge of his gunblade against his shoulder.
Quistis stood stock-still, tense with waiting. A few weeks ago, she'd never think to be afraid in Seifer's presence but so much had happened in the last several days that she was sure of nothing but her own wariness. Seifer was rash, unpredictable -- volatile and dangerous. She could believe anything of him now that she'd seen with her own eyes that he'd joined forces with the Sorceress.
"Hello, again, Instructor."
"...Seifer." Quistis twisted her head a little to track his movement.
"I bet you're wondering why I had you brought up here."
Quistis didn't reply, simply folded her arms and waited.
Seifer seemed to take her silence as a challenge. "So it's like that, is it? Fine. I've got a few questions for you."
"Do you, really?" Quistis's eyebrows rose. "Surely, you know better."
He stood in front of her, gunblade still on his shoulder. "Come on, Trepe. Play nice."
"You know I won't answer any questions."
"Tell me what SeeD is."
Quistis hid her confusion about his strange question but she refused to be cowed or intimidated. She came to attention. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years. Country of Residence, Balamb. Personal Identification Number, 014-08162."
Seifer laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Very nice. Try Again. Tell me what SeeD is."
She met his eyes evenly, reflecting a feigned calm in the face of his pique. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Seifer growled, pushing into her space. He didn't touch her but it was a near thing. "Why don't you just answer the damn question, Instructor? I know you know it! You, the teacher's pet, the golden girl SeeD! You have to know the secret they're hiding from me and the Sorceress."
She bit her tongue to keep from asking the questions rising in her mind. "Name, Quistis Trepe. Age, 18 years. Country of Reside..."
Fast -- faster than Quistis cared to admit -- Seifer had her spun around, one arm clamped across her body to keep her pinned against him and the other holding the sharp edge of his gunblade against her throat.
"You'd better just spill," he told her, voice soft and menacing, right next to her ear.
She fought against the urge to cringe at the implied violence in his voice. Quistis wanted to be able to see his eyes -- see if she could read anything in them that reminded her of the Seifer she'd known a week, a month, a year ago -- but the cold bite of the blade against her throat kept her still.
"I don't understand what it is you're asking," she admitted.
"You're making this harder than it needs to be," he said, pulling the blade a little closer. Her breath caught in her throat. "Keep on resisting and it'll only be worse on you."
By their own accord, her eyes followed the jerk of his elbow toward a far wall where implements, unmistakably made for torture, lay. Their purpose was easy to divine from the dangling restraints and the wiring that suggested electrical shock coupled with the power switch that confirmed it.
"Torture, Seifer?" she forced her derision past her fear, even as his arm tightened around her in warning. "What happened to the Seifer who wanted to be noble? Who wanted to help?"
"I am helping!" He was loud, almost shouting in her ear. "I'm helping Sorceress Edea stop you! It's a noble duty I have now – I’m a Sorceress's knight!"
"No!" Her volume rose to match his. "This isn't noble, it's not anything you wanted to be. It's torture and dishonorable and all you are is playing into whatever nefarious plans she has!"
"Shut up, Trepe!" Suddenly, he was shaking her and she was facing him again and his gunblade had clattered to the floor. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
But she kept speaking, even as he shook her in his rage, as she struggled to free herself from his grip, words tumbling from her mouth with the kind of non-thought behind them that used to characterize their shouting matches when they'd been younger. "You can't believe this, you can't! And if you do, if you do this, you're nothing but a coward! Do you hear me, Seifer? A coward!"
"Guards!" He roared and the two waiting soldiers appeared. He literally threw Quistis at them, her body colliding with theirs and only staying upright by their combined efforts. "Take her away. She's not going to talk."
"What about...?" one of the guards asked, looking pointedly toward the "interrogation" device.
"Later," he said, glaring at her with eyes empty of anything she'd known good of him. "There's somebody else I want to give it a spin first. So, after you take her back, bring up our "special" friend," he ordered, watching in malicious enjoyment as Quistis balked. "The injured one."
"Oh, no," she said more to herself than to Seifer. She moved as if to rush him but the guards held her. "Oh, no. Squall? You're talking about Squall, aren't you? Seifer!"
"You could've stayed and talked but you declined," he said. "Now it's time for me to try someone else."
As they dragged her away again, Quistis clung to the growing hope, born in those ashes, that Squall was, indeed, alive.
Finit.
Notes: My friend
bravely acted as my cheerleader on this series.