Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Fated Children
Chapter Twenty-Six - In Winter, They Come
Laguna takes some risks to try and get what he wants. ~A Series of Shorts for Fated_Children on LiveJournal~ (Rating for certain chapters; warnings include sex, alcohol, language)
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Central was frigid cold with winter, and Laguna's joints ached. Outside of the Presidential Palace, people were wailing and crying and berating anyone they could think off. Outside of Central, people were wondering why there was no food coming, why there were no soldiers protecting them, why there were strange men with strange ideals toting about unchecked.
Laguna was wondering that as well. When had the control shifted? When had he lost these people? When had he become so afraid.
His advisers had warned him against dissolving the army, but what else was there for him to do? With the army in place, these agitators felt threatened, making them violent. Though, with the army dissolved, the agitators were looking more and more aggressive, more and more well organized. More and more ready to sway the powers away from Laguna and his alleged 'regime' and to this New World Order.
A order which would plunge Esthar back into its xenophobic ways. And without Esthar's help, there would be no swift necessary supplies to Trabia. No reason for the commerce to Fisherman's Horizon. No more technology to spread to the growing, evolving world around them.
Maybe that was the point. Adel had retarded Esthar economically. And with Laguna having brought that trade up again, there was nothing economical left to ward off these terrorists. No threats of downfall throughout the country. Not even an impoverishment, if these men and women were in the right, with knowledge on their side.
The sun glittered across the buildings as it set. There was a fire somewhere in the south-district, and noone willing to put it out yet.
Had he always been a figurehead?
Once, he had been strong and fierce-and foolish in his idealism.
He wondered, Who will put out the fires when I am gone? Will these men bring back the army? Will they make policemen and firemen, like we had in Timber when I was young? Will they be good to the people?
Once, he had fought against the dictator of this country, trying to save a little girl-and trying to save the people who had been subjected to that reign.
He wondered, Am I like that? Am I a dictator? Do people hate me?
Once . . .
"Laguna?" He turned from the ice and the fire and the city that sprawled out around them at Kiros' soft voice. Kiros' smile was wane, but thankfully there. "They're ready for you."
"Okay."
He wondered, Will I die like this?
Wouldn't that just be poetic justice.
Laguna was wondering that as well. When had the control shifted? When had he lost these people? When had he become so afraid.
His advisers had warned him against dissolving the army, but what else was there for him to do? With the army in place, these agitators felt threatened, making them violent. Though, with the army dissolved, the agitators were looking more and more aggressive, more and more well organized. More and more ready to sway the powers away from Laguna and his alleged 'regime' and to this New World Order.
A order which would plunge Esthar back into its xenophobic ways. And without Esthar's help, there would be no swift necessary supplies to Trabia. No reason for the commerce to Fisherman's Horizon. No more technology to spread to the growing, evolving world around them.
Maybe that was the point. Adel had retarded Esthar economically. And with Laguna having brought that trade up again, there was nothing economical left to ward off these terrorists. No threats of downfall throughout the country. Not even an impoverishment, if these men and women were in the right, with knowledge on their side.
The sun glittered across the buildings as it set. There was a fire somewhere in the south-district, and noone willing to put it out yet.
Had he always been a figurehead?
Once, he had been strong and fierce-and foolish in his idealism.
He wondered, Who will put out the fires when I am gone? Will these men bring back the army? Will they make policemen and firemen, like we had in Timber when I was young? Will they be good to the people?
Once, he had fought against the dictator of this country, trying to save a little girl-and trying to save the people who had been subjected to that reign.
He wondered, Am I like that? Am I a dictator? Do people hate me?
Once . . .
"Laguna?" He turned from the ice and the fire and the city that sprawled out around them at Kiros' soft voice. Kiros' smile was wane, but thankfully there. "They're ready for you."
"Okay."
He wondered, Will I die like this?
Wouldn't that just be poetic justice.
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