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Entry tags:
FFXII: The Stars
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Implied Balthier/Ashe
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Fran advises Balthier against decisions he would surely regret. Set, to my mind, after Revenant Wings, but no real spoilers for it. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_sandsea.
Balthier stares into space. Fran touches his shoulder lightly as she comes to join him, but doesn't linger: she takes her own seat, getting comfortable. She can see from the look on his face that he's not yet ready to set off. She is content to wait: patience is a virtue the Viera have no lack of. She settles back and doesn't watch him: he dislikes to be observed -- stared at -- when he is thinking.
He looks up, finally. "Fran," he acknowledges, with an edged little smile.
"Have you decided where we fly to now?"
"Do you ever tire of this life?"
Fran is not as shocked as he seems to think she must be. She smiles a little. "No," she says, softly. "It is pleasant to be rootless, to be so entirely different to the traditions I once left behind. I enjoy your company, and I have come to love the Strahl as much as you do."
"Sometimes," he says, slowly, "I think I might like to put down roots for the first time. I hear it is over rated, though."
"You would stay in Rabanastre," she says. It isn't a question. She shifts a little in her seat, getting more comfortable. "Then I must remind you that often you complain that the beer in the Sandsea is inferior, and that there isn't a decent tailor in the whole city."
"I was thinking of appropriating rooms in the palace," he says, as lightly as he can.
"You would tire of it," Fran says. "You have said that you've learnt to keep your place. There is something between you and Ashe, it is true, but... I don't believe you would ever find it a fair substitute for the sky and for the freedom to go where you wish. And for her it could be more trouble than its worth. Better to quit Rabanastre now and to stay away. I say this for both your sakes. And," she hesitates, but says it anyway, not looking at him now, "for my own. I do not think I would fare as well without you, even if I could continue to fly."
"Fran," he says, softly -- she can't read the emotions in his eyes, when she raises her head to look. For a moment their eyes meet and he smiles. "Well. Let us be off, then. Nono wishes to acquire some parts that are apparently only sold in Bhujerba, so I suggest that be our first port of call."
Fran smiles too. "And then?"
"On, to pastures new! We should be the first sky pirates to chart the whole world. How does that sound?"
"Too fine for the likes of us," she says, half-laughing.
"Oh, nonsense." As he speaks, he's running through pre-flight checks, preparing them to fly. "Aim for the stars, my dear."
Pairing: Implied Balthier/Ashe
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Fran advises Balthier against decisions he would surely regret. Set, to my mind, after Revenant Wings, but no real spoilers for it. For
the_sandsea.Balthier stares into space. Fran touches his shoulder lightly as she comes to join him, but doesn't linger: she takes her own seat, getting comfortable. She can see from the look on his face that he's not yet ready to set off. She is content to wait: patience is a virtue the Viera have no lack of. She settles back and doesn't watch him: he dislikes to be observed -- stared at -- when he is thinking.
He looks up, finally. "Fran," he acknowledges, with an edged little smile.
"Have you decided where we fly to now?"
"Do you ever tire of this life?"
Fran is not as shocked as he seems to think she must be. She smiles a little. "No," she says, softly. "It is pleasant to be rootless, to be so entirely different to the traditions I once left behind. I enjoy your company, and I have come to love the Strahl as much as you do."
"Sometimes," he says, slowly, "I think I might like to put down roots for the first time. I hear it is over rated, though."
"You would stay in Rabanastre," she says. It isn't a question. She shifts a little in her seat, getting more comfortable. "Then I must remind you that often you complain that the beer in the Sandsea is inferior, and that there isn't a decent tailor in the whole city."
"I was thinking of appropriating rooms in the palace," he says, as lightly as he can.
"You would tire of it," Fran says. "You have said that you've learnt to keep your place. There is something between you and Ashe, it is true, but... I don't believe you would ever find it a fair substitute for the sky and for the freedom to go where you wish. And for her it could be more trouble than its worth. Better to quit Rabanastre now and to stay away. I say this for both your sakes. And," she hesitates, but says it anyway, not looking at him now, "for my own. I do not think I would fare as well without you, even if I could continue to fly."
"Fran," he says, softly -- she can't read the emotions in his eyes, when she raises her head to look. For a moment their eyes meet and he smiles. "Well. Let us be off, then. Nono wishes to acquire some parts that are apparently only sold in Bhujerba, so I suggest that be our first port of call."
Fran smiles too. "And then?"
"On, to pastures new! We should be the first sky pirates to chart the whole world. How does that sound?"
"Too fine for the likes of us," she says, half-laughing.
"Oh, nonsense." As he speaks, he's running through pre-flight checks, preparing them to fly. "Aim for the stars, my dear."
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