Title: Messing Up the Blankets
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters: ensemble, Penelo POV
Summary: Having lived her life in the crowded capital of a desert kingdom, Penelo had never seen real snow before. ...And of course, neither had Vaan.

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Well, this was new.

They'd reached the foothills of Mt. Bur-Omisace near dusk, trudged upward into the drizzle and through the increasingly slushy puddles for a brief while, but it wasn't long before it grew dark enough and cold enough that no one had any objections whatsoever to making camp for the night. Basch and Fran had volunteered to scavenge some firewood while the rest of them set up their shelter and went over their rations to see what they might be able to make that was warm; Penelo could only speak for herself, but she hadn't been much in a mood to have a look around, and while Balthier and Larsa didn't seem to be troubled by the weather, even they hadn't ventured far from the fire once it was set.

When the tapping of the freezing rain against the tent had eventually stopped, Penelo had assumed it was because the rain had stopped. As she poked her head outside in the morning, however, it was clear that it hadn't stopped. It had just become... something else.

"Something wrong?" Ashe asked, somewhat groggily, from where she was still wrapped up in her blankets.

"Oh. ...No!" Penelo said, after a moment of wondering what she meant. "I just... it snowed. And the snow... actually stayed."

"Ah," Fran observed from just behind Penelo, where she'd paused at the tent's flap. "Of course, from a desert kingdom. This must seem a novelty."

"You could say that."

Penelo stepped outside, letting Fran by - and despite her attire, she hadn't followed Penelo's lead and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders when she emerged from them, how did she do that? - and simply stood there, looking about the landscape. The uneven rocks that had posed a problem in the dark, the slick expanses of ice that may or may not have given way to cold water beneath if trodden upon... they were all gone, smoothed over and hidden under a layer of pristine, fluffy white.

Seeing her stop to look, Fran hadn't gone anywhere either. "It is lovely, is it not?"

"Yeah..." Penelo murmured. Everything seemed quieter, too, although some loud exclamations from the boys' tent made it clear Vaan had woken up and had made the same discovery she had. Even his voice seemed softer and more distant. "It's like... a soft blanket covering up everything, making it beautiful." Fran murmured something that sounded like agreement.

"Hey Penelo - think fast!"

"Hey-!" A clump of cold fluff caught the side of her head, falling apart and getting down into the folds of her blanket, and she turned to give Vaan a look.

"Larsa says the kids do this in Archades when it snows - snowball fights!"

Indeed, Larsa was behind Vaan, obviously trying not too hard not to laugh. "My apologies, Penelo - I didn't suggest he throw one at you."

"Of course not." Although if Larsa had known Vaan as well as she did, it probably would have been obvious what his first thought would have been.

"So who was I supposed to throw one at, huh?" Vaan was asking Larsa, squeezing more of the stuff in his hands. "Basch? Bal- aagh, this is freezing my hands!"

"Normally one would wear gloves," Larsa observed, and suddenly it was Vaan's turn to get smacked in the face with a ball of icy white. "And perhaps I was presenting a challenge...?"

"Ha! You sneaky little..."

Penelo had let their fight fade into the background, simply taking in the peacefulness of the snowy mountains. The snow that had slid down under her blankets was melting into cold water, which was unpleasant, but the sight kept her from being too annoyed.

Until Vaan and Larsa's snow fight sent them tumbling out further from the tents, both of them laughing despite Larsa's very dignified objections as Vaan deposited the emperor's son into a drift. He rose up flailing, spraying snow all over Vaan, and the ensuing battle left spattering dents and footprints and other scars across the smooth whiteness.

Penelo sighed. "So much for that beautiful, soft blanket," she remarked to Fran. "Just leave it to Vaan to mess up the bed."

"Meanwhile..." Fran gestured off towards the far side of the boys' tent, from which Basch was just emerging. Balthier was already up and dressed, digging through the snow at the base of some taller rocks to reveal one of the old urns that were scattered along the ancient pathways, now trying to pry it open. "...My partner is, predictably, stealing the covers."

The sound Basch made might have been a stifled laugh, which was almost funnier to Penelo, and she grinned up at Fran. "...Men, huh?"