Tiny little fic which will not be continued. Rated T for no specific reason. Enjoy! Reviewing makes you awesome! I don't own FFXII or its characters in any shape, form, or fashion.
The Questions Left Behind
Balthier squinted against the harsh rays of the desert sun, hating the way the tiny droplets of sweat that ran down the back of his neck made his skin feel. His shirt had begun to stick to his skin some time ago, and had he not had the image of leading man to consider he would have discarded his vest, letting a little air get to his torso through his thin cotton shirt. He sat on a small rock, resting his weary limbs not far from where the others were plopped down in the hot sand. He watched for a while as Basch helped the desert boy, Vaan, with a new sword technique. The older man was almost fatherly toward the two children, as if he had taken it upon himself to look after them since neither of them had any real living relatives. It made the pirate almost jealous, the bond the captain seemed to have with the two young blondes, and he supposed it made him a little sad at the same time. He smiled to himself as he watched Vaan lose his footing and nearly fall, Basch catching him at the last moment with a paternal chuckle. He could remember his own father teaching him to use a sword, but that had been a long time ago, and eventually the day had come when his father's smiles and warm laughter had faded and been replaced by harsh words and even harder smacks. He wondered now how different his life might have been had his father stayed the way he had been so many years before, before the nethicite, it was one of the many questions that had been left behind when his life had fallen apart, and Ffamran had become Balthier…and he would never know the answer.
