Zidane Tribal doesn't need a reason to help people (overcomeanyfear) wrote in penance_thread, @ 2022-05-04 05:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !narrative, !trial, zidane tribal |
Who: Zidane Tribal, and a beautiful daydream
What: He knows this shit, really, but the reminders help.
When: May 3rd Trial Night
Where: 6th Circle: Sacrifice
Status: Narrative, Complete
Warnings: Depression, self-isolation, mild language, general FFIX spoilers
He remembered this place. He’d been lost here once before, for a previous trial. How many was it now? Four? That sounded right. Four trials. Four tests that he was surely failing, exposing the worst parts of himself. The parts that scared him.
He didn’t fight the water, just let himself drift deeper and deeper. He wondered what would happen if he continued to fail the trials. Would he just stay here like this forever? What an awful thought…
There were dark shapes in the water - stone statues with their faces worn away. He couldn’t really stand to look at them for very long. They made him think he might as well be looking in a mirror, because all the parts of himself that he recognized were surely being worn away as well.
“I thought you were ready to wake up?”
He shuts his eyes at her voice, longing burning in his chest. “I don’t know if I can,” he tries to say, but the water is pressing in. He can’t speak. He can breathe, somehow, but his voice is silenced more surely than any spell.
“Shh,” Dagger says, her voice perfectly clear despite the water. Her arms wrap around him from behind, her small frame pressed against his back. His eyes are stinging and it’s not from the water. “It’s alright. You don’t have to talk right now. Just listen.”
His hands come up to cover hers, holding tight. Her chin rests on his shoulder, and they lean into each other. He misses her so much.
“Zidane. You’re in danger right now,” she says. Her fingers stroke over his arm, over the new mark. Violence. He burns with shame, but can’t bear to pull away from her just yet. She shakes her head. “Shhh, just listen. This mark doesn’t cast your future in stone,” she says. “It’s not a failure, Zidane.”
It sure feels like it. He thinks of the last trial. The doppelganger, Garland’s weapon. He was becoming the thing he was the most afraid of. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted to protect his friends, his home.
“I know,” she says. Her voice is so soft that he wonders if she’s really here at all. “I know. And you still can. The mark doesn’t mean you are condemned. It means that there is work to be done still, here,” she pressed her fingers to his forehead, “and here,” her hand moved to lay over his heart. “That’s all.”
He thinks about that for a moment. It seems so much clearer when she says it. Simple. So why does it feel so devastating?
“Your path is not set. There are still choices to be made.” Her thumb runs over the mark again. “There will always be choices before you. You are the one that will decide. Not Garland.”
“What if I decide wrong?” he tries to say, his voice lost to the deep. She seems to know anyways. Ever since the Violence mark etched itself permanently onto his skin, the fear has been eating at him. He’d been avoiding everyone else again, didn’t dare let them get close.
“You’re so blind sometimes,” she says, and he flinches. “You’re always trying to protect everyone else. Always throwing yourself into trouble to help others. Does that sound like someone who would willingly hurt other people?”
He shakes his head against her words. She doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.
“I do understand,” her hair drifts in the water. “I know you want to protect others. I know you’re afraid.” He curls the end of his tail around her ankle. “You mustn’t give into that fear, Zidane. Do you understand why you’re here? Why the first mark you had was Sacrifice?
He hesitates.
“You’re so stubborn. You think you’re protecting people, but you’re just hurting yourself by pushing everyone away.” He closes his eyes. That much is true. But wouldn’t it be better for him to be the only one hurt?
“Don’t you think,” she says, “That it would be easier to hold fast against becoming Garland’s weapon if you had friends at your side?”
...She’s right. Of course she’s right. They’re stronger together, he knows that.
She presses her forehead against his temple. “You know you wouldn’t let any of us stand alone, if it were the other way around.”
…That’s true too.
“You’re allowed to let others help you too, you know. You look out for everyone else, but we look out for you too. You’re not alone.”
He misses her so fucking much it’s an actual physical pain. He wishes she were really here.
…No. That’s not quite true. He doesn’t want her to be stuck in this place too. What he wants, more than anything, is to be back on Gaia, back home with Dagger and the others.
“You know the way home,” she says. “You can’t keep shutting everyone else out. You can’t give up now.”
He swallows hard. She’s right. He has to make it through this. He can’t just lay down and accept defeat.
She reaches up and cups his cheek, presses her lips to his temple in a kiss. “Everyone’s waiting. So keep fighting. Don’t close yourself off. Then come home to me. Okay? Promise me!”
He has “I promise,” on his lips when he wakes, opening his eyes to the dim, dark shadows of his room, and the early morning sunlight peeking past the curtains.