Warnings: mature sexual content
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I don't get any money for this.
####################################################################################################
####################################################################################################
There is pain, where once has been the soothing voice of wood - now, only a constant missing. Like a background void which tugs and pulls on the broken strings of your soul. One gets used to it, especially after 50 years have passed, one should be able to endure it - or there would be no way to survive at all. Still, there are times where the hurt is too much to bear for as much, as a second longer. Even if the pain in its intensity isn't large enough to be insufferable itself, the time in which it's carried around adds up, constantly screaming for the shortest moment of relief, for a pause to gather enough strength to fight it for 50 years more to come.
It's a stab in the already bleeding wound as the wood rejects they path - not even to prevail, but just to pass trough. It's a clear declaration, a message only for her to understand - She is no longer welcome. Would they companions have come without her, they would have been able to find their way. The wood wants her to blame herself - she's the ultimate obstacle they all will fail upon.
She's left without a choice but to face them - those true Vieras - the ones who are still dwelling in their natural environment, who are still filled with the voice she's missing for so long.
It's fear, well hidden behind anger, nonetheless Balthier recognizes it without delay. "Making an appearance?" His voice tries to hide its concern - is this pain she's carrying really so obvious?
"I am." To speak it out loud helps her building up the determination, which yet hasn't settled in her heart.
"I thought you'd left for good." - A disguised offer to change her mind. It all could be so easy, so simple, just turn around and leave everything behind without as much as a single glance back. Well, it's all they have been doing till yet - running away.
"Our choices are few." Those words mean a world and more. She made her choice once, as did he himself. Balthier should understand what she means without any elaboration. Back then, well, even now, there aren't as many alternatives as he might believe. She increases her step and he follows along naturally. Vaan is already stumbling and calling out somewhere behind them, finding no regard. It strengthens her resolve, that Balthier is always on her side above everything, above all and everyone. Should she just voice her wish to do so, he would throw those appendages away, they call themselves companions without even knowing the full meaning of the word.
But Fran knows - "This is as much for you as it is for me" - surprising and stopping him in his stride. "Oh?" Is it possible he hasn't realized yet himself? Than he should know by now better, than to believe she hasn't noticed.
"You are ill at ease." A slight tilt of her head - a mocking challenge. Examining his face, every slight change in his features speaks volumes of thoughts and hidden wishes for her to read. "The nethecide troubles you?" But it's rather a question directed for him to be found, than to be answered aloud.
"You've let your eyes betray your heart." With this, the conversation is settled. It annoys him still, that she's reading him so easily. "Right..." An obsolete defeat. There wasn't a single time a conversation between them ended otherwise.
The path she sketches with her finger should have been long forgotten, but still comes forth naturally like breathing. "What are you doing?" - Vaan again, sticking his nose like a restless puppy in every wonder this world has to offer. "Soon you will learn." But her voice trembles, nothing a hume would notice. It takes a few precious seconds, in which she holds her breath - unsure if it will work at the end. Vaans exhaust, filled with pure admiration - drowns her own, so heavy with relief that it escapes her lungs only slowly.
The floating moos spreads out like a carpet - welcoming those who find their way back home. Still she isn't as sure as she makes it appear, taking the first step onto the soft surface, fully expecting that it will give away under her weight and devour her whole in the dark depthness of the wood. Her worst fear doesn't come true, still she feels the abomination she dared to take all the more.
