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FFXII: Agony
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Fran had thought Humes too transient for true grief. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_sandsea.
Somehow, she hadn't really thought of Humes as capable of sorrow. They were such transient creatures, their lives a brief bright smear across the map of time. She couldn't imagine that any brief sorrow could cut as deep as a long and slow grieving.
And Balthier seemed that twice over and more. He burned with feelings, with energy, with half voiced ambitions. It amused her to watch him, sometimes: driven to place a mark upon the world somehow, as if it could last. The Humes were only remembered if they built huge things to last and stand guard over their memory for years and years beyond their span. The Humes comforted themselves with their temples, their statues, their homes in which the living green was bent to obey.
They found happiness too easily, and their sorrow was even more transient than they were.
She never thought to see a Hume cry. When she thought of tears she expecting something graceful -- sad and yet somehow beautiful.
Balthier's tears were wrenching, wracking. They shook him with agony that surely cut into him deeper than any knife. Deeper than anything she'd ever felt.
Fran silently withdrew, wondering how every one of those soft sounds could be a cut to her heart.
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Fran had thought Humes too transient for true grief. For
the_sandsea.Somehow, she hadn't really thought of Humes as capable of sorrow. They were such transient creatures, their lives a brief bright smear across the map of time. She couldn't imagine that any brief sorrow could cut as deep as a long and slow grieving.
And Balthier seemed that twice over and more. He burned with feelings, with energy, with half voiced ambitions. It amused her to watch him, sometimes: driven to place a mark upon the world somehow, as if it could last. The Humes were only remembered if they built huge things to last and stand guard over their memory for years and years beyond their span. The Humes comforted themselves with their temples, their statues, their homes in which the living green was bent to obey.
They found happiness too easily, and their sorrow was even more transient than they were.
She never thought to see a Hume cry. When she thought of tears she expecting something graceful -- sad and yet somehow beautiful.
Balthier's tears were wrenching, wracking. They shook him with agony that surely cut into him deeper than any knife. Deeper than anything she'd ever felt.
Fran silently withdrew, wondering how every one of those soft sounds could be a cut to her heart.