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31_days2005-08-03 12:25 am
yoshitsune.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-08-03 12:25 am
[August 3] [Final Fantasy Tactics] Cruelly Used
Title: Cruelly Used
Day/Theme: Day 3/Like Hamlet
Series: Final Fantasy Tactics
Character/Pairing: Delita, Ovelia
Rating: PG-13
Alone in the throne room, Delita sat. Lavish tapestries hung from the walls, warming the chilly stone. The wooden throne he sat in was covered in rich velvet and gold leaf. In the back of his mind, he realized that his bloodstained clothes must be ruining the velvet, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.
He still couldn't believe that she had done it. Ovelia was supposed to love him, honor him, obey him...those were the words of the marriage ceremony. And he thought she had...hadn't she? So how had she justified this rank betrayal to herself?
Delita slammed his fist down on the throne's armrest, sending flakes of gold leaf drifting to the floor. Pain shot through his right side like a bolt of lightning, spreading from the bandaged wound, and he welcomed it and the accompanying rage. The deceiving bitch, she'd never loved him. Merely bided her time until the opportunity came to...
He shook his head violently. No, she'd been perfectly justified in her actions. He'd gone into the marriage fully intending to use her, as he'd used everyone else since Teta's death. Even Ramza hadn't been immune, though he'd tried as much as possible to keep from ruining his life. Which, to be honest, was more than he'd done for woefully innocent Ovelia - he hadn't even really tried to keep his machinations secret from her. Why? Did he really think so little of her intelligence, think that the halfhearted reasoning would satisfy her questions? Or did he recognize her curiosity and anger, and actually mean to drive her to this course of action?
Or had he honestly loved her, and wanted her to see for him for who he truly was?
Well, she certainly had. Warts and all. He laughed, a staccato burst of pain. And now her cold corpse lay in state on a bier in the nearby chapel. He hadn't gone to see her yet - he couldn't yet get the image of her final moments out of his head. Impaled on his sword, staring up at him. Her eyes filled with a bitter mixture of shock, anger, resignation...
He would always be alone. As the full enormity of what he'd done sank in, Delita bowed his head to his knees and wept.
Day/Theme: Day 3/Like Hamlet
Series: Final Fantasy Tactics
Character/Pairing: Delita, Ovelia
Rating: PG-13
Alone in the throne room, Delita sat. Lavish tapestries hung from the walls, warming the chilly stone. The wooden throne he sat in was covered in rich velvet and gold leaf. In the back of his mind, he realized that his bloodstained clothes must be ruining the velvet, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it.
He still couldn't believe that she had done it. Ovelia was supposed to love him, honor him, obey him...those were the words of the marriage ceremony. And he thought she had...hadn't she? So how had she justified this rank betrayal to herself?
Delita slammed his fist down on the throne's armrest, sending flakes of gold leaf drifting to the floor. Pain shot through his right side like a bolt of lightning, spreading from the bandaged wound, and he welcomed it and the accompanying rage. The deceiving bitch, she'd never loved him. Merely bided her time until the opportunity came to...
He shook his head violently. No, she'd been perfectly justified in her actions. He'd gone into the marriage fully intending to use her, as he'd used everyone else since Teta's death. Even Ramza hadn't been immune, though he'd tried as much as possible to keep from ruining his life. Which, to be honest, was more than he'd done for woefully innocent Ovelia - he hadn't even really tried to keep his machinations secret from her. Why? Did he really think so little of her intelligence, think that the halfhearted reasoning would satisfy her questions? Or did he recognize her curiosity and anger, and actually mean to drive her to this course of action?
Or had he honestly loved her, and wanted her to see for him for who he truly was?
Well, she certainly had. Warts and all. He laughed, a staccato burst of pain. And now her cold corpse lay in state on a bier in the nearby chapel. He hadn't gone to see her yet - he couldn't yet get the image of her final moments out of his head. Impaled on his sword, staring up at him. Her eyes filled with a bitter mixture of shock, anger, resignation...
He would always be alone. As the full enormity of what he'd done sank in, Delita bowed his head to his knees and wept.