A/N: I'm not certain if this could be construed as an actual fic, seeing as I've attempted (more or less successfully) to write a soliloquy/stream of consciousness. In any case it's set to a prompt found on LJ (ff-couples).
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XII is the property of Square Enix.
Soliloquy By The Naldoan Sea
Standing stranded on a secluded haven feet digging into coarse sand below on the reclusive quayside of the Naldoan Isles all the while suffering the scorn of abandonment and refusal's plight for she had left in the end the beautiful Fran – a creature of the forest not made for stargazing for she had the power to see as it is and not as one wish which is a thing as rare as the creature itself – clarity and frankness the thing one always searches for but so very rarely find much more so than the cloudless sky above but beautiful it was with its airships adorning the deep dark blue with its hue of light as if they were stars shooting stars of blazing fire that granted wishes and thus loosing oneself in pointless aspiration to whatever end yes an end of wishing and dreaming but acting long forgotten and who could wait forever on the promise of a wish that was no more than fleeting fancies gone like a puff of smoke such as that which trailed the airships and stars forever lingering behind like she'd refused to for she travelled on forever onwards without wasting time on stargazing that culminate in nothing but dreams but to stand underneath the far away fires of stars and then proclaim the lack of light in ones life that was equally foolish for could she not see the twinkle and shine guiding the path across the vast night-sky then that was the delusions of the clear-sighted – ah there was the quandary for as the fulminating orbs of fire that was in truth no more than passing ships grew scarce who could not use a wish to lighten the mood and aid the spirit and invigorate the blood with a wish of such devotion and single-minded hope that in the end hope is what it spurred with a wish to end the toil and heartache and a need for change but Fran – commander of the heart could not bear to regard the night-sky of the Naldoan Isles and seeing only stars and not the machines thought they were so much closer and so in the name of action had she travelled onwards leaving the sky that now all about began to loose its colour and fade in darkness as the ships and hope grew scarcer and in such a predicament who could not use a shooting star to wish upon and while standing alone with coarse sand beneath surrounded of roses in green and red and blue it was the most ironic thing of all – she was all he wished for.