A/N: This is a rough draft at the moment, currently lacks one final chapter to wrap things up but the main plot is complete at this point. I appreciate criticism, as this is my first FFXII fanfic to be posted and I'm testing the waters a bit. I plan to rework the chaptering some when I revise. Thank you in advance for reading, and I'll get that last chapter up as soon as I can (it's outlined, just haven't had a chance to write it TT).

The God of Steel and Stone

"Euuughhhh!" Balthier yawned, mouth wide and eyes scrunched shut, stretching his arms above his head. He blinked and looked around, sitting up in the Strahl's pilot chair. Fell asleep in the cockpit again, did I? he thought. Balthier rubbed his face and scrubbed his hands through his short, blonde-dyed hair, chasing the last of his nap away. He slipped his feet into backless leather shoes that lay where he'd kicked them off and stood, straightening his ornate vest and attempting to brush some of the wrinkles from the sleeves of his white shirt. He gave up with a grimace of disgust. The view through the smeared windscreen remained the same as before he'd dozed off: the inside of a docking port in Rabanastre's aerodrome.

Leaving the cockpit he moved toward the back of the ship, squeezing through the Strahl's narrow passageways until he reached his tiny cabin. Balthier lingered there briefly to change shirts and wash his face with a bit of scented water. Refreshed and presentable once again, he poked his head into the engine compartment.

"Nono!" Balthier called. "Nono! How long unti--ahh!" The Moogle's brown head and bright orange pompom appeared suddenly in front of his face, and Balthier rocked back in shock. "Nono, you'll give a man a heart attack doing that."

"Sorry boss! You were shouting but I was right here, just under the hatch--kupo!" The Moogle twitched his broad ears and rubbed his nose, leaving a smear of grease like a black moustache on his fur. "Repairs will be done in a snap, kupo, but--"

"Excellent!" Balthier stood as if to return to the cockpit. "As soon as Fran returns we can be back in the sky, where we belong. I'll--wait, did I hear a qualification on that statement?" He turned back to Nono, one eyebrow cocked.

"Uh...kupo." Nono nodded. "The repairs aren't the problem. It's the parts." Nono bobbed his pompom and ducked his head, avoiding Balthier's intense stare. "The parts we need are backordered kupo and it's probably going to be two or three weeks before they can be delivered."

"Three weeks!" Balthier threw up his hands and rolled his eyes in dismay. "That long on the ground, we're like to start growing moss."

Nono whistled his own frustration. "I tried, kupo! Even checked the black market parts dealers here in Rabanastre, but no can do!"

Balthier raised his hand in a placating gesture. "No, I know. I understand." He rubbed his thumb along one of the arching bulkheads, wiping away a small smear of grease or dirt. "The Strahl is a high-maintenance girl. She only accepts the rarest and most expensive of gifts," he said with a small smile, looking back at the drooping Moogle.

Nono perked up again and gave a chirruping whistle. "Kupopo!"

"Oh, Nono," Balthier said over his shoulder, turning to leave. "Where is Fran? I thought she was just going to pick up some supplies."

Nono put his small paw to his chin and looked at the ceiling, thoughtful. "Well, kupo, she said something about supplies before she left, but she had a pack with her and her weapons." Nono looked at Balthier. "Did you fight with Fran, kupo?"

Balthier's eyebrows shot up in surprise then he scowled. "I don't...think we fought about anything." He shrugged. "It's hard to tell sometimes." Balthier turned and walked back toward the Strahl's main hatch and slapped the control button to open it. "Fran is Fran," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the hum of the hatch's hydraulics as it lowered. "She'll be back. In the meantime, I think I shall go into town." He glanced back at Nono, who was still half-emerged from the engine compartment. "If I stay here much longer, I will surely find out firsthand if one can perish from boredom."