Semper Eadem

Disclaimers: FFXIII is not mine, I'm not selling this blab la bla. Just a little fanfiction.

Spoilers: eventually.

Pairing: Fang/Lightning & Fang/Vanille

Rating: Thus far it's T, for violence. It promises to get sexier, so M eventually.

OOO

"Beautiful, isn't it, Fang?" Lightning stared at the expanse of Gran Pulse in awe of its ferine land. The sky stretched into oblivion, touched the earth at the horizon and exploded into the vast expanse of rolling planes and mountain ranges around them. From the back of the Eidolon Bahamut, it all looked utopian: fresh, wild and untouched. It was a brutal existence; with the freedom to live and survive came liberty without law, but it was freedom nonetheless, nature untainted by the reduced scope of humanity that saw the world only as a resource, a standing reserve to be used.

"Yes," Fang agreed, "It is." The light of the sunset cast Pulse in a pink-orange glow that highlighted the soldier's hair. Her fair complexion was lit by the fireball sun. Fang watched as Light became enthralled, chuckling to herself as the enchanted expression spread across the young woman's face. Her freckles were obvious in the sunlight, her nose slender to match the rest of her delicate, Aryan features. It was all very beautiful. Very lovely.

"Fang, we're back!" Vanille's voice sounded from somewhere behind her. Fang turned in the direction of the sound and reached for Vanille's hand. Vanille beamed, took her proffered hand and scrambled to the front of Bahamut where she settled in Fang's lap.

"Will we go to Oerba?" the young girl asked.

"Of course," Fang replied, leaning in to Vanille's ear. "Our focus is there."

Fang stared out at the Pulsian expanse and the seemingly endless horizon. From the corner of her vision, she caught Lightning's fleeting glance toward her. Light's neck flushed, her cheeks suddenly rose-tinted. Fang chuckled.

Vanille stared up at her, "What is it?"

She shook her head and smiled,

"Nothing. I'm happy to be home."

OOO

They landed on a glade in the Archylte Steppe, calmed by the tranquil ride over the alien paradise. The air was clean and refreshing. Morale was running high. Perhaps it was the adrenaline from the freefall, or the realisation that Pulse was the opposite of what they'd expected, but the light attitude was infectious. It was a careless mistake.

Hope skipped along the grass, tossing his boomerang into the air, catching it as it whipped back at him. Vanille was equally enthralled by it. She ran out into the field looking back at him as she went,

"Toss it over here!"

He leaned back and followed through with his body, hurling the boomerang into the sky. As it came back in an arch to return to him, Vanille intercepted the flight. She threw the boomerang back to him and he caught it. He turned back to the group.

"We're gonna go take a look around." He dashed out into the field, the boomerang prone in his hand.

Fang eyed Vanille worriedly and Lightning sensed her unease. "Snow, keep an eye on them."

"Way ahead of you, sis," he mock saluted her and bounded into the field after Hope and Vanille.

"First things first," Lightning said, turning to Fang, "Food, water, shelter."

Fang nodded. "Food and water are easiest to come by in the central expanse, north of here. Shelter is another matter."

"All business with you two already?" Sazh piped up from a shaded spot beside a large boulder. "Can't we rest?"

"You can rest," Fang replied. "Pulse is about survival. We need to make sure we have everything we need before we head to Oerba."

Light nodded, "Will you be alright alone?"

He stretched and yawned, the baby chocobo in his afro rummaging about before going quiet again, "We'll be just fine."

Fang shot Lightning a cheeky smirk. A smile pulled at Light's lips in return.

"Well, well, Sunshine," Fang remarked, "Looks like it's just you and me."

"Don't push your luck, Pulsian," she fired back.

Lightning marched ahead and Fang struggled to keep at her side, "We're a bit fiery today, aren't we?"

"Speak for yourself." She grinned and kept her eyes ahead, kept her laughter private.

Fang bit her lip, satisfied with her handiwork. Lightning turned and eyed her curiously.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing," Fang replied. She averted her gaze from the soldier.

Lightning blushed easily, the curse of her fair complexion. She brushed off her emotion and lost herself in the landscape; suddenly overcome by the beauty of Pulse, she thought of the propaganda she'd grown up on in Bodhum. Pulse was nothing like the folklore or the late night broadcasts of Pulse l'Cie terrorism. She realised, with some incredulity, that the survivor's testimonies and the captured Pulse terrorists must have been staged –actors –hired by the SANCTUM army. The more she wandered through all the meandering intricacies of Pulse, the more her anger for the army grew, for the Guardian Corps, for all of the symbols that demanded such faith of her. All lies in exchange for passivity. She'd been played like a civilian; she'd thought herself better.

Trapped in her reverie, she failed to sense the danger nearby or to feel the long vine coiling around her calf before it clamped shut and pulled her to the ground. She yelped and Fang whipped around in time to see a series of Truffids –carnivorous plants –surround Lightning and attack her. Fang dashed back toward them and lanced the feral plants with the spear-tipped edge of her staff. They shrieked, jarring her senses. The sounds they made as she cut them sounded almost human. She focused instead on slicing through the vines and bright petals until she could see Lightning. Light held her hand out, grazing the tip of the staff. Fang reached for her and hauled her from the pit of the detritus.

"You okay?" She asked.

Lightning wiped the blood from her bottom lip and removed her sword from its sheath. Without a word, she charged at the mutant plants, cutting them down in a violent rage. She returned with added scratches to her hands and face and avoided Fang. Fang lifted two fingers to Light's chin, prompting her to turn. Light recoiled and batted her hand away.

"I'm fine," she said simply; she glanced at Fang before she continued toward the central expanse.

Fang pursed her lips and followed, unsure of what to expect when they'd reached their destination.

OOO

The sunlight poked through the narrow path between the two mountains. Fang and Light followed it to the opening where the hilly path spilled into a vast, flat prairie overrun by wildlife of the most exotic and brutal strain. A hint of a smile returned to Lightning's lips and their spirits lifted. Fang stood at her side gazing out at the many species of mutants.

"Plenty of goodies here, eh?" Fang smirked.

Light nodded, "Any favourites?"

"Gorgonopsid's are fairly easy to kill," she replied.

"Are they edible?" Lightning asked.

"Of course," she answered, "Taste like chicken."

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Anything else?"

"Not really," Fang shook her head, "Everything else tastes rather gamey. Those Truffids that attacked you make a decent salad."

"Well, I've been put off salad."

Fang grinned. "Grilled Gorgonopsid then?"

"Looks that way. Should we grab one?"

She nodded, "We'll carry it back."

Light unsheathed her sword, a gleam in her eye as she studied the blade. "Let's test out your theory."

They raced onto the field as a stray Gorgonopsid bounded into view. Lightning clipped its left paw with her sword and it yelped, limping as it turned around. She flanked the creature on the right; Fang took the left side. They came together with the mutant creature in the centre, tentative at first, prodding it, scraping its flesh with their tools. Lightning ran her tongue along her lips in anticipation, Fang's chest swelled. The Gorgonopsid's head undulated in delirium. Fang started again and penetrated the creature's flesh; Light watched as Fang dragged the buried staff from the opening before it was violently thrust back in. Lightning lifted her weapon and punctured through the thick skin; a squirt of blood escaped between the folds of the wound and the blade. They regarded their handiwork and looked up at each other for approval, finding satisfaction and delight in each other's eyes. As they pulled out, the creature staggered, dizzy from the pain and the loss of blood. Fang launched the creature up and Lightning followed: up, up, up where they held themselves balanced and lingering on the edge, deliciously, until the sudden last burst of life died in a fireball descent. And crashing down they came with limbs trembling, heads in a daze, blood and veins thrumming with a tribal pulse.

Panting and covered in blood, they hauled their victim into the shade, eying one another from the top of the corpse. Fang quartered the carcass while Lightning skinned the meat. Using the skin as a sac, they silently carried the meat through the path, back to the base camp at Vallis Media.

OOO

The base camp was empty. The boulder where Sazh was left napping was abandoned; the field where Vanille, Snow and Hope explored was deserted. Fang dropped the heavy sac on the ground and squinted into the sun.

"Bugger!" She shielded her eyes, "Where the hell did they get to?"

Lightning was digging a pit in the shade, "They're probably nearby."

Fang's eyes were fixed on the landscape, scanning for movements.

"We'll build a fire," Light continued, "They'll come once they see the smoke and get hungry."

When she received no response she looked up from her work, "Fang?"

"Hmm?" She refused to move.

Lightning ran her tongue along her bottom lip, "Could you get me some tinder?"

Fang nodded, tearing her eyes from the empty field ahead of them.

She returned with armfuls of moss and twigs that were tossed into the pit Light encircled with stones. Fang dragged the sac of Gorgonopsid parts over to the pit while Lightning held her hands over the dry tinder. Flames soared from Lightning's fingertips and flash-burned the moss; the twigs caught fire and burned lethargically. Together they skewered the filleted meat and held it over the fire. Black smoke trailed high into the air as the edges of the flesh burned. The scent of grilled steak filled their nostrils and their Pavlovian senses jolted to life: mouths watered, stomachs burned in anticipation.

Fang tore the flesh from the skewer with her front teeth, sucking in a breath of air to ease the scorching burn on her tongue. Lightning watched with a bemused grin.

"You should wait until it cools," she said.

"But I'm hungry now," Fang replied.

Light half smiled and shook her head. Fang turned toward the landscape, absorbed in thought again. Lightning regarded her curiously, pursing her lips as she swallowed.

"She's fine, Fang," she said.

Fang fixed her eyes on the horizon, "You don't know that."

"I've seen her fight," she replied, "She can handle herself. You give her too little credit."

"You don't know her like I do," Fang answered curtly.

That shut her up. It was true. Lightning knew little of Fang, less of Vanille and was only beginning to understand Pulse, to get beyond the phantom image Bodhum had painted of it. Light dropped her gaze to the ground. Curiosity stirred within her: about Vanille, about Fang. Who were they? Where'd they come from? Something electric burned between them, that much she understood. It fired a furnace of jealousy in her, knowing that Vanille knew Fang more than anyone; knowing that she, herself, knew nothing.

"They've been gone too long," Fang tossed her skewer into the fire.

"What if they went to look for us?" Lightning asked.

"Then they're still looking," she answered.

"We'll find them."

Fang paused a moment, "They'd be heading to Oerba. Vanille knows that's where I'd go."

"Then that's where we'll go." Light stood and extended her hand to Fang.

Fang took it and struggled to her feet, "What will we do with the rest of this meat?"

"Use it as bait," Light raised her hands over the fire and cast a water spell. The fire choked beneath the weight of it.

They packed up their weapons and retraced their steps toward the Steppe.

OOO

Fang froze at the mouth of the delta, where the path spilled into the central expanse. It was an endless abyss. The titan looked on overhead. Bloodthirsty Humbaba and Gorgonopsid packs patrolled the rolling hills. Zanitra surveyed the land from above, observing their prey. It was a death trap.

Lightning crossed her hands over her chest, "Stop it."

"What if they're in trouble out there?" Fang gestured toward the distance, "how would we ever know?"

"Vanille is an expert medic," Lightning's anger was at its edge, "Snow's an expert sentinel. Think about it. Do you really think they'd be so helpless? That if we were there it would make such a difference?"

"It would make a difference to me."

"How?"

"I would know for sure," Fang replied.

"You think I don't worry about that?" Lightning cut her a glare and considered her words before she continued. "Sometimes seeing isn't knowing. Do you think they're lost out there?"

Fang paused, hands on her hips, scanning the Steppe. Pulse had never been so alien. She tried to remember, to recall the rhythm of the land she was raised on, the life-force that fed and guided her. She shook her head, "No."

"We don't have time for doubt," Lightning approached her. Fang glanced at her face and found a softened expression. There was something in her blue eyes, something guarded. Sympathy? Concern? Ghost-like fingertips caressed Fang's hand. Sudden, sharp heat ate up through her wrist, up her arm into her chest. Light stared at her.

"C'mon," the soldier turned away and headed into the chaos.

Trembling, Fang dutifully followed.

The first few fights were routine: a few scrapes for their effort as they cleared a path. They'd forgotten the titan was watching, the displeasure it caused when they struck down one of his living creations and exerted their might, their will, over his. He was the arbiter of life and death in the Steppe, the artist of the land. All that existed belonged to him, was his to create and define or to destroy. Not since the last appearance of Orphan had the titan witnessed the blasphemy of human kind. He roared and the land violently shook. The two humans gathered close to one another. He cast a shroud of dust over them to obscure their sight. And from his right hand, a fleet of Humbaba poured into the valley.

Fang choked at the influx of smoke into her lungs. She cursed. Lightning seized her arm.

"I can't see anything," she coughed.

"Stay close to me," Fang replied. "Be ready to fight."

They wandered blindly, unable to see more than a few feet in front of them. Shadows knit from the fog directed their path and they avoided the hulking monsters that roamed around them, hunting them, catching their scent. They heard the mutants growling, tasted their breath, heard their steps. Fang squeezed Light's hand. A Gorgonopsid jumped at them from the curtain of the mist. In shock, they brutally cut it down and continued gingerly, feigning their bravery. It was then that they reached the edge of the cloud and the path narrowed with a cliff to the side of it. Two mountains formed a tunnel-like entrance into the next stretch of land, towering over them like the gatekeepers of their fate. They sighed in relief. At last, a way out.

The ground shook from a tyrannical roar; the breath of the beast gusted at their backs. They reached for their weapons as the Humbaba stood on its hind legs. In its hand a weapon formed: a sword with a spinning saw at the tip. Fang charged at the creature and wounded its leg. Enraged by the pain, it turned to Lightning and unleashed a burst of magic. She screamed and collapsed to the ground, shielding her eyes. Blindness. Daze. Poison. Curse. Petrify. The Humbaba raised its weapon and brought it down on her. Fang watched Lightning's body fly into the air and crash back down, bouncing upon impact; ragdoll limbs flailed and signalled to all witnesses that the life had gone out of her, that the body was an object, limp like a doll: unreal.

A feral rage seized Fang then, deep and buried in her DNA, saturated with the grief of helpless ancestors who watched their kin fall before them: bottom of the food chain. Its weapon was stuck in the dirt and she climbed its hand, ran up its arm and shoulder to its face where she ran the sharp end of her staff across its eyes. The thin membrane broke and from it a yellow pus poured down the beast's face. Blind. She lacerated the neck and severed the windpipe, watched it swell and compress and hang on the outside of the slashed throat, opening and closing, desperately searching for air that wouldn't come. She stabbed the collarbone and pulled her staff downward with her weight, carving a mammoth wound down the front of its chest, its gut, its bowls. With its flesh broken, the Humbaba poured onto the field in a wave of blood and meat, veins and fleshy tubes.

She dashed toward Lightning's body and gathered her up in her arms, ignoring the damage. She charged into the narrowed path, to the place between the mountains where they would be hidden from the titan's sight, from the sight of the other predators. Kneeling onto the ground, she gently deposited Lightning in front of her and rummaged in their supplies for a tuft of Phoenix Down and a vial of potion. Fang uncorked the vial and dissolved the down in the green liquid. She propped Light up in her arms, tipping the vial into the soldier's mouth. Lightning coughed, quivering as the Phoenix Down took hold in her veins and reawakened the dormant magic flowing through her. Pain came with consciousness. She screamed in agony.

Fang jerked from the sound, suddenly aware of the picture before her: several head wounds made the brain seep from every available orifice, nose, eyes, ears bleeding in streams down Lightning's alabaster face, her light pink hair stained with dark violet-crimson gashes. A twisted arm. A twisted leg. Fang cursed, frightened, barely able to concentrate above the howls of anguish.

"I'm sorry," Fang repeated under her breath, "I'm so sorry." She'd never learned any healing magic; Vanille was always there to provide it when it was needed.

She stroked Lightning's face and tried to console her, fumbling with her other hand for another potion. She poured it over Light's face, into the wounds, into her mouth, hoping it would take hold. She had an idea of how they worked, the potions, little nanomachines that dove into the bloodstream to correct mutated chains of DNA. Combined with the l'Cie blood, full of magical catalysts, the nanomachines raced to work, healing wounds in real time. The potion sizzled on the opened flesh and Lightning winced, her cries waning. Fang popped the cork from another vial and poured the potion on her, the flesh fizzing and sealing up, the blood washing away. Light's eyes were sealed shut. Fang caressed her cheek and leaned into her ear.

"Where's your dagger?"

"Back pocket," Lightning croaked.

She gingerly searched Lightning's jacket and removed the dagger, unfolding the blade. She held Light's face close to her own.

"I need you to be very still," Fang's voice was soft. "It might hurt but if you move, I'll hit your eye."

Lightning shivered.

She gripped the blade tightly and tilted Lightning's head forward, breath caught in her throat. Jaw clenched. The blade moved lethargically along Light's eyelid, severing the fleshy bond that the Humbaba's spell had formed. Blood streamed down her face anew. Fang wiped it with the excess fabric of her sari and poured a bit of potion on the open eye. Lightning blinked, able to see.

"That's one," Fang exhaled. Lightning's hand reached up and seized a fistful of the sari wrapped around Fang's chest. Fang readied the blade again and proceeded to remove the seal on the other eye. It tore and bled, and she washed it with a potion. "That's two."

Time turned into an abyss; everything stopped. They stared at each other, frozen. Lightning's hand still gripped a fistful of Fang's dress. Their breathing marked time. Fang brushed the damp hair from Lightning's forehead and swallowed. A familiar, shaded look lingered in Light's blue eyes and this time Fang could see what it was but did not want to see it. Instead, she sat silently, unnerved by it, smouldering in its scorching path. Light, still trembling, felt something in her chest swelling and spreading and hot; it stretched out across her ribs, across her stomach, up through her neck and into her cheeks. She shook harder as Fang bent her head toward her, as her nose brushed her cheek, as moist breath touched her ear.

"Don't do that to me again," Fang whispered.

Her composure cracked and tears welled in Lightning's eyes: fear and pain, relief and horror all swept up inside of her. Her chin trembled. Fang clutched her to her chest and burying her face in Fang's neck, a sob escaped Lightning's lips. It was the first time she'd tasted death as a l'Cie' the first time she'd truly tested that great mortal fear. They stayed there, curled up and vulnerable until both had calmed. Light cast white magic on her limbs until her strength was renewed. And flushed with embarrassment, she stood, hardened by anger at the shattered mess she'd become. But she kept it inside and extended her hand to Fang, fingers laced and lingering a little too long before they parted and continued on.