Rydia : (17) : Fall

[first-seventhe.livejournal.com]

Title: Forgiven
For: mount_ordeals, FFIV
XP: brokenprism
Theme + Number: (17) Fall
Claim: Rydia (character; challenge)
Characters/Pairings included: Kain
Rating: K+
Warnings: long-ish. (It just took off on me and I couldn’t stop! XDDD)
Summary:



“So, why?”

Rydia’s not really sure what she’s doing on Mount Ordeals, sitting at the summit side-by-side with Kain and watching the stormclouds. It was probably Cecil’s doing, subtly: all his hints about Kain spending time on the sacred mountain and searching for forgiveness and resolution. Cecil is good at subtle; Rydia is not. So she asks, again.

“Why’d you do it all?”

He won’t even look at her; he’s been tentatively polite since she showed up this afternoon, but the sort of polite which really means go away. Kain isn’t very good at subtle either.

“Do you even know why?” Not only does Rydia not understand subtle: Edge has taught her well about pushing people’s buttons, and so she does. She’s not sure why she’s here and she’s frustrated from it. “You and Cecil were friends, I get it, and it’s not like you two were all good and holy anyway, but … so why turn on him?”

“I…” It’s the first time he’s used that word and she hangs on it in anticipation. Apparently she needs resolution just as badly.

“I fell,” he says.

“Fell?” Somehow it makes her angry, like it’s not his fault: and she knows it’s not and that only makes her angrier. “What, you tripped and fell and when you got up Cecil was a bad guy?” She’s always been blunt – Edward still teases her gently for her childhood anger – but this feels like a rough and painful catharsis. It wasn’t just Cecil’s suggesting which sent her here: she feels like her unconscious is splintering, slightly.

“I was too close to the darkness and I fell in,” Kain snaps, and she’s never heard him speak so simply but the metaphor makes perfect sense anyway. “Why do you care so much about Cecil anyway? What happened between Cecil and I is none of your business!”

‘It is,” Rydia hisses in return, “when I have to sit there and watch him mourn you like – like you were dead, or something! You hurt him, and you’re still hurting him!”

“Is that all you’re here for, Caller?” His voice is softly acidic. “My behaviour in regard to Cecil can’t be the only thing that makes you so angry.” It’s like Kain is asking for rage. Talk about pushing buttons: she’s now angry and sad and burning up with it.

“I -” and her voice chokes a little and Kain looks up, as if he’s hanging on the word, and Rydia can’t decide whether to hug him or hit him. “I already forgave you for that!” she growls, and that angry sentence is blissful madness and she already feels a little bit better.

Kain looks her in the eyes, clear blue and pain, and she can see that he doesn’t believe her. “You can forgive me for … for Mist,” he says, voice now all ragged, “but you can’t forgive me for betraying Cecil?”

She looks down, entwines her fingers together in her lap. “I already did,” she says, and she sounds like a petulant green-haired child. “Mist was … it was before you fell.” She looks back at him and her eyes are cool sea-green and quite shallow. “I forgave Cecil. Why not you?”

“Before I fell,” he says, pointedly, grabbing her words. “So you forgive me for something that was clearly in my true nature to do, something that wasn’t the fault of moon-magic?”

“I forgave Cecil,” she repeats, as if this is easy; and her voice is steel, because it is not. “Why not you?”

“Why not me,” Kain murmurs, the edge between them gone; “why not Cecil?” And she knows he means more than forgiveness: he means Mist, he means the fall. Unspoken words, between them on the mountain: Cecil climbed up. Kain fell down.

“Is it that hard to believe?” she asks finally, as the storm settles in and tiny raindrops begin to prickle on her arms. “Forgiveness – is it that hard to believe in?”