Authors Notes: Haven't written for a while due to blasted exams. I don't have another exam until Thursday so I'm taking this opportunity before it's too late! Sorry if it seems rushed... Disclaimer: Characters are square enix's not mine.
Fran
Judging by the bruise flowering on Balthier's forehead it had been a bad fall. They had suffered worse ailments, though. Yes, they had most certainly suffered worse. There had been times where they swayed between life and death, each breath a silent farewell. Here, he was just unconscious. He would not breathe his last breath tonight.
The whispering voices behind the closed door of Balthier's room did not agree. Fran's sensitive ears could pick up those sullen murmurs. They disappointed her. In life it is most important to have faith and she had always tried her hardest to believe in Balthier. It was no easy feat when he was lying on what may be his death bed. Tonight, however, she is calm – her only duty is to greet her partner when he wakes.
She supposes they have a right to fear his death. They have all lost a person. Fran has lost friends too. She does not weep, however. Never has she wept over a life. She knows deep down that one day she will and it will hurt...so much...but she will show no one the tiny crack in her armour. Unlike these Hume's, she is not weak.
It had shocked her how easily these Hume broke – both emotionally and physically. She had never known such things in The Wood. Hume's crumpled like straw, the branches holding their body together splintered and burnt. In The Wood, Viera rarely died. Some Viera believed to die was to bring shame upon you and your family. Fran's mother had died in giving birth to Mjrn.
Hume's died from lots of things – suffocating, poisoning, loss of blood to name but a few. The worse sickness of all, however, was called –
Shivers rocketed down her spine. The sickness made her feel...unwholesome. To take her mind off such morbid matters she began gently stroking her partner's forehead, thanking The Wood it had not struck him down with this sickness. It was then she found it. Another grey hair amongst the soft brunette strands pressed to his forehead. He was getting old. She was watching his face transform so it resembled that of another's and his bones bend over and creek. She was watching him die and she was helpless.
She had seen this happen to all of them – every Hume she had ever...befriended. She waited until...until she could not stand it. Old age was the most fearsome monster she had ever faced. Viera did not age like this. When she had first come across a poor elderly gentleman...she had been...terrified. Most of his skin was eating itself and the few patches that escaped clung close to the bone. His eyes, raised above the gaping toothless hole of his mouth, had sunk into his face. One day this would happen to Balthier...could she leave him before it happened?
It hurt to think that one day he would cease to exist. Hume's lives were as short lived as that of the autumn leaves. No wonder they feared death. Did she fear death? She had faced giant wyrms and serpents, had swords lash at her body...and she feared a great big empty nothing - the same nothing that would one day swallow her whole. Rebirth was only for Viera loyal to the wood. Did her partner fear death? No, he did just not accept it. And he never would right until the very end. He was the leading man after all.
Slowly, she came to. She had fallen asleep – failed her duty to her partner. Looking up her burning red eyes met his icy blue eyes and he smiled...like he always did after a near death experience. As always he pressed his lips against her forehead and his breath tickled her ears as he leaned in to ask her if she had missed him. Yes, always yes. Then he'd promise to never leave her and he'd wait for her to promise in return. Until today she never had.