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everlastingsoul) wrote2006-05-31 10:02 pm
everlastingsoul) wrote2006-05-31 10:02 pm
Entry tags:
Another Leon-centric ficlet
Title: Last Breath
Fandom: Suikoden III
Characters: Leon, George, Albert, and Caesar Silverberg
Prompt: Life
Word Count: 1028
Rating: 15+ for sensitive topics (death, implied relations)
Author's Notes: These kinds of things are always difficult to write. This is also longer than my usual little ficlets. Yaaay.
Started: March 27, 2006
Finished: May 31, 2006
“George.”
He raised his head tiredly, reaching one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. The night had been a long one, and he briefly wondered how long he had zoned out. Several doctors had been in and out of the house, tending to the ailing members of his family for the majority of the day.
It had been a busy day for everyone. Julia had gone into labor early in the afternoon, and Caesar had been far too stressed with his wife’s progress to spend more than a few moments in the room with his father and grandfather. Meanwhile, George had kept vigil over the weakening patriarch, knowing all too well that there was little else he could do for him.
“Save your strength, Father.” It was becoming difficult for the older man to breathe; the doctors that had come in and out of the manor had agreed that his lungs were beginning to fail.
“If I say nothing now … it will never … be said.” Leon Silverberg spoke with his eyes shut, as his illness had already robbed him of his sight weeks ago. “It concerns … your elder son.”
George frowned uncertainly at the words his father struggled over, wondering briefly if his mind was going as well. “He has been dead a long time now.”
A ragged sigh—one of knowing and resignation. “You, of course, remember the … demon, Yuber, correct?” He decided to take the silence as acknowledgment. “He is … not to be handled lightly. No one can know how to … summon him again.”
“What does this have to do with Albert?”
“When I summoned him … he did not state his price. He never mentioned payment … until after the war was over.”
“… You sold my son to the devil. Your grandson.”
“If there was ever a regret…” Leon trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He weakly clutched the sheets, his mind wandering.
“I… If you hadn’t told him…”
“We would … not be here today.”
The door opened then, admitting a bedraggled, but decidedly-happy, Caesar. In his arms was a babe swaddled in clean cotton.
George stiffened, his horrendous reverie broken by the hysterical gasp that escaped his son. He rose from his seat as Caesar spoke in hushed glee, “A boy! It’s a boy!”
A tired smile graced George’s face as he clapped his son’s shoulder, looking at the sleeping newborn. “And Julia…?”
“She’s asleep now. I could barely coax the midwife to let me take him, but…” It was then that Caesar glanced at his bedridden grandfather, and he hesitantly stepped forward.
“Thank you … for bringing him.” The breaths rattled in the old man’s throat, and Caesar could see his neck muscles constrict as they laboriously worked. “What… What is his name?”
Caesar’s smile was wilted, torn between joy and sorrow. “His name is Albert, Grandfather.”
Leon’s sightless eyes flickered open briefly, a small sigh escaping him. “It-- it is a good name.”
The smile grew a little stronger at that, and Caesar found himself glancing down as his young son fussed and whimpered. “I think he thinks so, too.”
Leon’s last breath was spent on a feeble chuckle.
Fandom: Suikoden III
Characters: Leon, George, Albert, and Caesar Silverberg
Prompt: Life
Word Count: 1028
Rating: 15+ for sensitive topics (death, implied relations)
Author's Notes: These kinds of things are always difficult to write. This is also longer than my usual little ficlets. Yaaay.
Started: March 27, 2006
Finished: May 31, 2006
“George.”
He raised his head tiredly, reaching one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. The night had been a long one, and he briefly wondered how long he had zoned out. Several doctors had been in and out of the house, tending to the ailing members of his family for the majority of the day.
It had been a busy day for everyone. Julia had gone into labor early in the afternoon, and Caesar had been far too stressed with his wife’s progress to spend more than a few moments in the room with his father and grandfather. Meanwhile, George had kept vigil over the weakening patriarch, knowing all too well that there was little else he could do for him.
“Save your strength, Father.” It was becoming difficult for the older man to breathe; the doctors that had come in and out of the manor had agreed that his lungs were beginning to fail.
“If I say nothing now … it will never … be said.” Leon Silverberg spoke with his eyes shut, as his illness had already robbed him of his sight weeks ago. “It concerns … your elder son.”
George frowned uncertainly at the words his father struggled over, wondering briefly if his mind was going as well. “He has been dead a long time now.”
A ragged sigh—one of knowing and resignation. “You, of course, remember the … demon, Yuber, correct?” He decided to take the silence as acknowledgment. “He is … not to be handled lightly. No one can know how to … summon him again.”
“What does this have to do with Albert?”
“When I summoned him … he did not state his price. He never mentioned payment … until after the war was over.”
“I have to wonder why you decided to see me back to Toran, Yuber. Your face is neither welcome or wanted here.” Leon held his satchel firmly in one hand as he looked at the tall demon, his thick brows furrowed.A heavy silence blanketed the room, only punctured by the unsteady rasps of the dying patriarch. George stared at the far wall, his hands clenching his knees.
The blonde creature smiled cryptically, eyes gleaming as he gazed towards the manor they were approaching. “I have yet to name the price for my services, Silverberg. I wanted to see the goods before I decided.”
Upon noticing the direction of Yuber’s gaze, Leon narrowed his eyes and looked on towards his son’s home. He stopped as he saw Elisa step out onto the front porch, followed by a redheaded child that strongly resembled his son at that age. “No, Yuber.”
“You’ve always been shrewd,” sneered the demon, continuing to stare in the direction of the woman and child. “But you have no say. You committed to a pact, and I have already fulfilled my part. It is time for you to uphold your part of the bargain.”
Like the black knight at his side, Leon could not avert his gaze from the mother and son. “They are not mine to give.”
“And when did that ever stop you?” A shudder ran through the patriarch as he felt the demon’s eyes on him again. “I do not want the woman; only the boy. You will give that to me, won’t you?”
Despite the iron resolve in Leon’s mind, he found himself unable to speak. He curled his hands into fists, shutting his eyes so that he did not have to meet that demonic leer.
“All you have to do is tell him about me and give him the ritual when he asks.” The confidence in Yuber’s voice caused the strategist to clench his hands tighter. “He is an intelligent whelp; he will ask about me.”
The next words were spoken against his cheek, and memories of clothes and blood shed in darkness came unbidden.
“If he has not summoned me in 20 of your years, I will know you didn’t tell him. And if that time comes, I will come for all of you instead.”
“… You sold my son to the devil. Your grandson.”
“If there was ever a regret…” Leon trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He weakly clutched the sheets, his mind wandering.
“I… If you hadn’t told him…”
“We would … not be here today.”
“Grandfather.”Leon kept those memories to himself. Even if he felt the need to share one of his heaviest regrets with his son, there was no reason to invoke anymore disturbing images. He had decided that long ago, even though it was difficult to remain silent so close to the end.
Those lifeless eyes met his, and all he could think of was turning away and expelling everything he had not eaten in the last day.
“You are…”
He was dimly aware of Yuber cackling from somewhere beyond that pallid face that was so wrong. He continued staring, pleading with his psyche to free him from the living nightmare.
The door opened then, admitting a bedraggled, but decidedly-happy, Caesar. In his arms was a babe swaddled in clean cotton.
George stiffened, his horrendous reverie broken by the hysterical gasp that escaped his son. He rose from his seat as Caesar spoke in hushed glee, “A boy! It’s a boy!”
A tired smile graced George’s face as he clapped his son’s shoulder, looking at the sleeping newborn. “And Julia…?”
“She’s asleep now. I could barely coax the midwife to let me take him, but…” It was then that Caesar glanced at his bedridden grandfather, and he hesitantly stepped forward.
“Thank you … for bringing him.” The breaths rattled in the old man’s throat, and Caesar could see his neck muscles constrict as they laboriously worked. “What… What is his name?”
Caesar’s smile was wilted, torn between joy and sorrow. “His name is Albert, Grandfather.”
Leon’s sightless eyes flickered open briefly, a small sigh escaping him. “It-- it is a good name.”
The smile grew a little stronger at that, and Caesar found himself glancing down as his young son fussed and whimpered. “I think he thinks so, too.”
Leon’s last breath was spent on a feeble chuckle.
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