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Entry tags:
FFXII: Encore
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Balthier/Fran
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: There is a time for every man, and Fran knows Balthier's isn't over yet. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_sandsea.
Balthier barely weighs anything now, as she holds him in her arms, almost cradling him. She's not sure whether his fluttering heart has stopped, or whether it now beats too slow for even her patient hand to find the trace. She doesn't know why she's brought him here, to the fringes of the Wood, or why she carries him in deeper. There will be fiends, of course, and her sisters may yet decide to chase them away, and the Wood itself will bear no small grudge towards the man who has kept her away.
She cannot feel the Wood, but she knows its unease. Gently, she sets Balthier down and stands straight, staring into the wood around. No monsters come to trouble her, and the Wood seems under the spell of a breathless quiet. She kneels down and puts her hand on Balthier's chest -- tries a cure spell, a phoenix down, a potion. Nothing.
Fran knows that the Wood still hears her, even if she does not feel it. So she lets it listen to her, the lost child gone from beneath its protection, and lets it know her lost child fears: the fear that she will be alone, the fear that Balthier -- her Balthier -- will be gone forever beyond her reach, to a world beyond the world where only Humes can go.
Under her hand, she thinks she feels a flutter. Without looking down at him, she casts a cure spell, and another, and another, until she is sure that under her hand there is a heartbeat. And then she leans down and she kisses him, willing him to life with all the life in her.
"There is a time for every creature," she whispers, softly. "And your time is not yet done. See? You have an encore."
She feels the first whisper of his breath and pulls away, pulling him up and into her arms, holding him close, rocking him like a babe. Around her, the Wood whispers. She does not hear the words in it, anymore, but she knows it whispers of second chances, of rejuvenation, and with all her heart she sends out her thanks.
Pairing: Balthier/Fran
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: There is a time for every man, and Fran knows Balthier's isn't over yet. For
the_sandsea.Balthier barely weighs anything now, as she holds him in her arms, almost cradling him. She's not sure whether his fluttering heart has stopped, or whether it now beats too slow for even her patient hand to find the trace. She doesn't know why she's brought him here, to the fringes of the Wood, or why she carries him in deeper. There will be fiends, of course, and her sisters may yet decide to chase them away, and the Wood itself will bear no small grudge towards the man who has kept her away.
She cannot feel the Wood, but she knows its unease. Gently, she sets Balthier down and stands straight, staring into the wood around. No monsters come to trouble her, and the Wood seems under the spell of a breathless quiet. She kneels down and puts her hand on Balthier's chest -- tries a cure spell, a phoenix down, a potion. Nothing.
Fran knows that the Wood still hears her, even if she does not feel it. So she lets it listen to her, the lost child gone from beneath its protection, and lets it know her lost child fears: the fear that she will be alone, the fear that Balthier -- her Balthier -- will be gone forever beyond her reach, to a world beyond the world where only Humes can go.
Under her hand, she thinks she feels a flutter. Without looking down at him, she casts a cure spell, and another, and another, until she is sure that under her hand there is a heartbeat. And then she leans down and she kisses him, willing him to life with all the life in her.
"There is a time for every creature," she whispers, softly. "And your time is not yet done. See? You have an encore."
She feels the first whisper of his breath and pulls away, pulling him up and into her arms, holding him close, rocking him like a babe. Around her, the Wood whispers. She does not hear the words in it, anymore, but she knows it whispers of second chances, of rejuvenation, and with all her heart she sends out her thanks.
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