FIC
I WROTE A THING FOR A THING THAT I AM CROSSPOSTING HERE.
Public mourners filled the streets of Archades, although the official funeral for Vayne Carudas Solidor had finished some hours ago. There was to be a parade, then fireworks into the evening.
It made slipping past the guards a little more difficult, but nothing that Vaan couldn't handle. Penelo sprinted toward her goal, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers close to her breast. She relaxed when she saw the figure of 'Gabranth' come into view.
"I had a feeling we would be seeing you today, Penelo," he nodded.
"May I?" She looked toward Larsa, who stood at the foot of an ornate mausoleum, his head bowed in thought. The building dwarfed him, making him seem even smaller, if that were possible.
"I'd not dream of stopping you."
She approached Larsa on light feet, unsure of how to announce herself; he had yet to notice her presence.
"I see people brought a lot of flowers," she said, finally.
He raised his head in surprise. He regained his composure almost immediately, however. "In Archades, 'tis custom to lay flowers at the grave," Larsa explained, gesturing to toward the Solidor mausoleum. Hundreds of garlands had been laid at its entrance, each of them from prominent families of the empire. Every flower had been carefully planned and arranged; each rose tended to submission in well-procured gardens. They colored the grim stonework of the grave well enough, but were ultimately as stale and empty as the gestures they represented. To Penelo it seemed entirely too, well, funerary.
"These are for you," she offered, bringing up the bouquet that she and Vaan had rushed to Archades to deliver. The galbana lillies they gathered outside Rabanastre had kept, but some of the smaller wildflowers had wilted and they made a stop in the Tchida Uplands to fill it out. A professional florist would have scorned the haphazard arrangement and the veritable caucaphony of colors--not to mention the sheer number of weeds. But as far as Penelo was concerned, it was treasure. "When my brothers died...Vaan did the same for me."
"Penelo, I..." he stammered, taking the flowers in hand. For a moment, he looked like a boy rather than a boy trying to be a man. "Truly, I am touched."
There was nothing else to say, so she took his hand as he once did when she was scared and alone. And he held it back.
Public mourners filled the streets of Archades, although the official funeral for Vayne Carudas Solidor had finished some hours ago. There was to be a parade, then fireworks into the evening.
It made slipping past the guards a little more difficult, but nothing that Vaan couldn't handle. Penelo sprinted toward her goal, clutching a bouquet of wildflowers close to her breast. She relaxed when she saw the figure of 'Gabranth' come into view.
"I had a feeling we would be seeing you today, Penelo," he nodded.
"May I?" She looked toward Larsa, who stood at the foot of an ornate mausoleum, his head bowed in thought. The building dwarfed him, making him seem even smaller, if that were possible.
"I'd not dream of stopping you."
She approached Larsa on light feet, unsure of how to announce herself; he had yet to notice her presence.
"I see people brought a lot of flowers," she said, finally.
He raised his head in surprise. He regained his composure almost immediately, however. "In Archades, 'tis custom to lay flowers at the grave," Larsa explained, gesturing to toward the Solidor mausoleum. Hundreds of garlands had been laid at its entrance, each of them from prominent families of the empire. Every flower had been carefully planned and arranged; each rose tended to submission in well-procured gardens. They colored the grim stonework of the grave well enough, but were ultimately as stale and empty as the gestures they represented. To Penelo it seemed entirely too, well, funerary.
"These are for you," she offered, bringing up the bouquet that she and Vaan had rushed to Archades to deliver. The galbana lillies they gathered outside Rabanastre had kept, but some of the smaller wildflowers had wilted and they made a stop in the Tchida Uplands to fill it out. A professional florist would have scorned the haphazard arrangement and the veritable caucaphony of colors--not to mention the sheer number of weeds. But as far as Penelo was concerned, it was treasure. "When my brothers died...Vaan did the same for me."
"Penelo, I..." he stammered, taking the flowers in hand. For a moment, he looked like a boy rather than a boy trying to be a man. "Truly, I am touched."
There was nothing else to say, so she took his hand as he once did when she was scared and alone. And he held it back.