Likewise, Fair Lady
a k a n t h a e - h i m e
Authoress' Note & Disclaimer: This might just be one of the rarest pairings in the history of the FFXII fandom, but at least it works. No one's really gonna read this, if only because no one likes this pairing. It's pretty sad, because I think it's completely workable, although I hated the way I ended this fic. Everything was nice up until the second to last (or so) sentence.
...It's all your fault, Balthier. Fran owns, but no one notices because you're that sexy.
(Although I don't blame him that much. It's hard to.)
All standard disclaimers apply, so if you come marching up to me with a lawsuit, I'll not hesitate to pull out the waffle iron.
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The door to Fran's room is open. Inviting as the simple gesture is, Ashe stands only at the threshold, presence impressing upon the viera - back turned to the open entrance, garnet eyes affixed to a cloud drifting outside the window - a mixture of wispy perfume and only-human flesh. The perfume, Fran knows, is from Balthier's room. Gods know she's smelled it, tasted it, lived it, more times than she can count.
They aren't here to discuss Balthier, as much as they both love him. They are here as part of a game. They are here to work out the boundaries of something they can't quite put their finger on. They just know it's there, lurking at the corner of their eyes and waiting for a chance to pounce.
The Dalmascan princess moves from the doorway to saunter over to her fellow rebel against the gods, boots clanking against the mosaic floor. Fran watches out of the corner of her eye, pretending to be too far gone to notice the light touch of Ashe's fingers against the glass, leaving incriminating fingerprints. Her heartbeat speeds up as she realizes Ashe is only playing with her. Fran resists the urge to enclose the space between the two with the simple step it'd take. She has never willingly played into anyone's hands but Balthier's; and she is not willing to repeat the mistake with Ashe. They are two different people, but Fran might have overlooked that once or twice.
To prevent the action, Fran moves, silver hair spilling over a single shoulder as she cracks stiff joints that have had nothing to do but sit there while Fran takes her time staring at scenery. Her eyes wander from Ashe's profile to the window, where Fran can see all of Ashe's face. She likes what she sees in all but the eyes. They brim with fear and hatred and possessive obsession. Of what, Fran would rather not know, but she hopes it's not who she thinks it is.
Ashe's reflection on the clear surface is somewhat distorted. Even Ashe will admit to that, because a window is like a mirror of Mist that will tell you all you need to know and twist those lies (because everything she wants is a lie) into something even worse than the truth. How mirrors can do that...Ashe might just be the only one who has the time to wonder how mirrors do what they do.
Usually, Fran is the one who wants to know how things work. She does it so she can learn to pick apart her past. She's a bit funny, Ashe will admit. Fran likes knowing how things work because that's the same as knowing how to take them apart. If Fran knew how her past worked, then it would no longer exist as a whole.
In short, it would no longer define her; and then Ashe wouldn't want her quite as much. Fran is a mystery to Ashe. Ashe wants to puzzle it out, piece by piece, so time will slow down and life will make more sense.
Her logic doesn't make sense to Fran, who only wants to step sideways and embrace the woman who is young enough to be her granddaughter several times over. Age does not matter, which is what they both tell themselves.
Age, gender, race, fuckin' society and their fuckin' taboos...what does it all matter?
Even they - they, of all people, especially the ones that are sure they know how to make a difference - know none of it really does, not if you don't let it.
...Which is why Fran ignores the breeze wafting in the door, still open, and focuses on one of few people who want to immerse themselves in someone that doesn't matter.
That someone is Fran, and she's pulling down a pivotal princess with her.