Final Fantasy XII (Vayne/Larsa)
Jul. 24th, 2007 10:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: Emptier
Author: Cadence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 469
A/N: Prompt: Final Fantasy XII, Vayne/Larsa: Letters/writing - Vayne's talent with words put to use.
Dearest Larsa,
As I put pen to paper it has been hardly a day since I last saw you. Hopefully you do not think me too soft for writing so soon; we have certainly gone longer without speaking even while in the same building, on days I am busy with affairs of state. However the distance makes the silence more overt, and I find myself wishing for your presence.
Nevertheless, I hope this letter finds you well in Archades. You must believe that it is the best place for you at the moment, for it is naught but the most apparent truth.
My flight arrived in Rabanastre without event. My address could not have gone better, as it would seem the citizens of Dalmasca are unaccustomed to their leaders speaking to them with an appearance of candor.
The fete last evening was certainly more eventful than was necessary, but I could hardly hope things would go entirely smoothly. It would seem that some of Dalmasca still lacks respect for its position, but I am sure things will resolve themselves appropriately. And as the night pressed on and things wound down, I did manage to retire to my rooms, though the sky was pitch-dark by that time.
However, even after the events of the day and liberal drink at the fete, I did not immediately slumber. Sleeping in Dalmasca is strange, my brother. The air, even stripped of the spices and paint Dalmascans are so fond of, smells of sand and stone. The heat sits upon one like a cloakâeven in the black of night, the walls of the castle retain the warmth. My aides inform me, with perhaps undue exuberance, that it only becomes more uncomfortably humid when the rains come to Giza.
Dalmascan customs are suited to the climate, of course, and the bed they provided me was no exception. The sheets were soft and light as paper, and the coverlet was more of a concession to decoration than insulation.
One of my first thoughts when I settled into the bed, the fabric falling so delicately on my skin, was that you would not enjoy it at all. I know you enjoy having your heavy quilt wrapped tightly about you. Is it too much to admit that I wished you were here nonetheless, to commiserate with me? The breathy cloth made the bed feel even emptier than it truly was. I admit I slept little.
I woke to the first rays of light and the re-heating of the air, and began to pen this letter. It is now a more appropriate time for rising, so I must end here and depart for my duties. No doubt you have projects to attend as well, in my absence. You shall make us all proud.
Always your loving brother,
Vayne
Author: Cadence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 469
A/N: Prompt: Final Fantasy XII, Vayne/Larsa: Letters/writing - Vayne's talent with words put to use.
Dearest Larsa,
As I put pen to paper it has been hardly a day since I last saw you. Hopefully you do not think me too soft for writing so soon; we have certainly gone longer without speaking even while in the same building, on days I am busy with affairs of state. However the distance makes the silence more overt, and I find myself wishing for your presence.
Nevertheless, I hope this letter finds you well in Archades. You must believe that it is the best place for you at the moment, for it is naught but the most apparent truth.
My flight arrived in Rabanastre without event. My address could not have gone better, as it would seem the citizens of Dalmasca are unaccustomed to their leaders speaking to them with an appearance of candor.
The fete last evening was certainly more eventful than was necessary, but I could hardly hope things would go entirely smoothly. It would seem that some of Dalmasca still lacks respect for its position, but I am sure things will resolve themselves appropriately. And as the night pressed on and things wound down, I did manage to retire to my rooms, though the sky was pitch-dark by that time.
However, even after the events of the day and liberal drink at the fete, I did not immediately slumber. Sleeping in Dalmasca is strange, my brother. The air, even stripped of the spices and paint Dalmascans are so fond of, smells of sand and stone. The heat sits upon one like a cloakâeven in the black of night, the walls of the castle retain the warmth. My aides inform me, with perhaps undue exuberance, that it only becomes more uncomfortably humid when the rains come to Giza.
Dalmascan customs are suited to the climate, of course, and the bed they provided me was no exception. The sheets were soft and light as paper, and the coverlet was more of a concession to decoration than insulation.
One of my first thoughts when I settled into the bed, the fabric falling so delicately on my skin, was that you would not enjoy it at all. I know you enjoy having your heavy quilt wrapped tightly about you. Is it too much to admit that I wished you were here nonetheless, to commiserate with me? The breathy cloth made the bed feel even emptier than it truly was. I admit I slept little.
I woke to the first rays of light and the re-heating of the air, and began to pen this letter. It is now a more appropriate time for rising, so I must end here and depart for my duties. No doubt you have projects to attend as well, in my absence. You shall make us all proud.
Always your loving brother,
Vayne
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