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adventdrabblesTitle: Snow Dancing
Universe: Final Fantasy XII
Character(s): Vaan, Balthier
Rating: U
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Looking down upon the snow-laden branches of the forest, Vaan considers how far he has come since their adventure first began in Rabanastre.
Length: 493 words
Author's Notes: Foradventdrabbles Day 10. also: external link.
Snow Dancing
He stood in awe of the unfolding scene before him, the softness of the snow beneath his feet, the chill in the air. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what it was, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have an understanding of the weather, he wasn’t a child after all, and understanding meteorology was key when navigating the skies, and yet still, here he was, so far from Rabanastre, so far from the warmth of the desert.
So much had happened since he had first looked up at those lonely blue skies as a child and dreamed one day of sailing through the clouds, of travelling throughout Ivalice, and living a life of adventure and chance, and now here he was, as far from Dalmasca as he could possibly get, staring out at the endless snowfields and the lonely forests.
Yet, it was worth it, Vaan told himself, every hardship, every suffering they had endured together was worth it just to witness this, the snow-laden branches of the ancient forest and the endless white before him.
A chill ran through him, and he became conscious of how little he was wearing, his wardrobe tailored for life in Rabanastre, not here, far out in the northern highlands of the Kerwon continent.
“You’ll catch a cold out here,” a voice said softly.
He turned, startled slightly, and found Balthier next to him, dressed in a heavy, padded jacket with a trim of white wampa fur, holding in his hands a mug of something hot, the steam rising the dark liquid within.
“Here,” he said, forcing Vaan to take receipt of the mug.
The boy frowned, surprised at the sudden warmth, the realisation of just how cold he was.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Hot chocolate,” Balthier answered, “from my own supply, courtesy of an old friend.”
Hesitantly, the boy lifted the mug to his lips, sipping it, and then pulling away with a frown.
“It’s really hot,” he protested.
“That’s the point,” the older man replied sardonically, “so drink it slowly.”
Vaan looked up at him, still uncertain as to what to make of him. Despite the cold, a warm smile touched his lips.
“Thank you,” he proclaimed.
Balthier sighed and shook his head.
“No thanks needed. Now hurry up and change into something warmer,” he admonished, “it’s making me cold just looking at you.”
A laugh escaped the boy’s lips.
“Sure thing, just give me a moment longer.”
Again, Balthier sighed, turning away and trudging back up the hill towards the shape of the Strahl, the snow already settling upon the cold metal of the ship’s surface.
“Suit yourself, just don’t freeze out here.”
Still smiling, Vaan turned away, looking again out over the snowfields. In his hands, the mug was warm, and before him, the snowflakes seemed to dance in the air.
Here he was, he thought once more, so far from Rabanastre, so far from the warmth of the desert.
Universe: Final Fantasy XII
Character(s): Vaan, Balthier
Rating: U
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Looking down upon the snow-laden branches of the forest, Vaan considers how far he has come since their adventure first began in Rabanastre.
Length: 493 words
Author's Notes: For
adventdrabbles Day 10. also: external link.Snow Dancing
He stood in awe of the unfolding scene before him, the softness of the snow beneath his feet, the chill in the air. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what it was, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have an understanding of the weather, he wasn’t a child after all, and understanding meteorology was key when navigating the skies, and yet still, here he was, so far from Rabanastre, so far from the warmth of the desert.
So much had happened since he had first looked up at those lonely blue skies as a child and dreamed one day of sailing through the clouds, of travelling throughout Ivalice, and living a life of adventure and chance, and now here he was, as far from Dalmasca as he could possibly get, staring out at the endless snowfields and the lonely forests.
Yet, it was worth it, Vaan told himself, every hardship, every suffering they had endured together was worth it just to witness this, the snow-laden branches of the ancient forest and the endless white before him.
A chill ran through him, and he became conscious of how little he was wearing, his wardrobe tailored for life in Rabanastre, not here, far out in the northern highlands of the Kerwon continent.
“You’ll catch a cold out here,” a voice said softly.
He turned, startled slightly, and found Balthier next to him, dressed in a heavy, padded jacket with a trim of white wampa fur, holding in his hands a mug of something hot, the steam rising the dark liquid within.
“Here,” he said, forcing Vaan to take receipt of the mug.
The boy frowned, surprised at the sudden warmth, the realisation of just how cold he was.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Hot chocolate,” Balthier answered, “from my own supply, courtesy of an old friend.”
Hesitantly, the boy lifted the mug to his lips, sipping it, and then pulling away with a frown.
“It’s really hot,” he protested.
“That’s the point,” the older man replied sardonically, “so drink it slowly.”
Vaan looked up at him, still uncertain as to what to make of him. Despite the cold, a warm smile touched his lips.
“Thank you,” he proclaimed.
Balthier sighed and shook his head.
“No thanks needed. Now hurry up and change into something warmer,” he admonished, “it’s making me cold just looking at you.”
A laugh escaped the boy’s lips.
“Sure thing, just give me a moment longer.”
Again, Balthier sighed, turning away and trudging back up the hill towards the shape of the Strahl, the snow already settling upon the cold metal of the ship’s surface.
“Suit yourself, just don’t freeze out here.”
Still smiling, Vaan turned away, looking again out over the snowfields. In his hands, the mug was warm, and before him, the snowflakes seemed to dance in the air.
Here he was, he thought once more, so far from Rabanastre, so far from the warmth of the desert.
