Once, in Old Archades, Balthier had gotten lost (though he would later admit to his Viera partner he had merely taken a detour or sorts to explore the sites), and wound up in a small pub squeezed into the space at the end of two alleyways. It was a warm and comfortable place, and surprised the Sky Pirate to say the least, after comparing it to some of the other less-than-desirable locations in the slums.

He had been welcomed with open arms, and after being laden with food and wine he sought a comfortable seat in the corner to watch the comings and goings until Fran found his scent and followed it. That was when they came out, the dancers. A friendly barmaid told Balthier they had come all the way from Rabanastre.

Their sunblessed skin shone in the lantern light with sweat, and their bright sandstorm eyes glimmered out to the patrons as they whisked about in a circle holding soft shimmery scarfs above their heads. That was Balthier's first real taste of the true people of Rabanastre. Of course, he had been through the city before, but all he had really seen were the shoppers and the markets. It had been suggested to him that he visit Lowtown, but he had brushed the place of as another seedy slum of children with quick fingers.

Sometimes he wonders that if he had, he would have met Vaan sooner.

--

There was giggling from the den of the Strahl. Fran had once questioned the reason for converting one of the storage rooms to a den, but Balthier had simply answered that it was a thing of necessity for all proper Sky Pirates to have one.

It was late in the evening and they were taking a well-earned break from hunting beasts, and when they weren't doing that they were running foolish errands for chops in Arcadia for people who were too lazy to walk down a flight of stairs to find their friend. Fran had kindly taken over the controls so Balthier could have a rest and a bath, and afterwards he began to stroll around the airship, checking that everything was in order. It was while doing this when he came upon his discovery: there was giggling in the den.

Pushing open the door Balthier paused in slight shock. Basch and Ashe were sitting comfortably on one of the lounges, holding drinks and chuckling, and Vaan and Penelo were dancing. Scratch that, he knew Penelo had a penchant for the physical art, but Vaan…

His scarf was a glittering peach in colour and it mingled with Penelo's pink as they twirled about each other grinning like children (they are children, Balthier's mind reminds him, but something else brushes that fact away entirely). They danced like the professional dancers in the tavern, but then, maybe they hadn't been professional, maybe they had just been natural, because Vaan and Penelo didn't seem to have any memorised moves, they just went the way their bodies wanted.

Penelo's moves were more fluid and feminine, all twists and turns and dips and twirls, while Vaan favoured to work around her, bending and twisting so that the light spread up the tanned curve of his back. When they finished with a giggling bow and a curtesy, and Ashe and Basch exploded into applause, Vaan turned to the doorway to find it empty.

--

Next time they stopped by Rabanastre, to check out the Bazaar and to pick up some wares, Balthier disappeared with the excuse that he wanted to 'see the sights'. He added a lewd grin in as extra façade, and it seemed to work. Ashe gave a disgusted scoff and Penelo rolled her eyes. Fran just smiled a little to herself, giving Balthier a knowing look. He glanced at Vaan to see the boys face a mix of shock and hurt, and before he could look more into it he waltzed off casually, throwing the group a lazy wave over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner…

…And into the gates of Lowtown, down into the cool garden square surrounded by small canals wreathed by colourful flowers. He glanced up in time to see a group of playing children, dressed almost alike to Vaan, running past an intoxicated Seeq. Balthier was amused to see that he was the only one who realised the unfortunate beasts lack of purse a moment later.

Balthier smiled to himself and made a note to keep a hand on his purse as he casually wandered around the real society of Rabanastre.

--

"Have fun?" Vaan muttered to the Sky Pirate, as Balthier slid into the empty seat across from him in the Inn. The rest of the party were already settled in their rooms, but Vaan had opted to stay downstairs with a mug of ale. Balthier motioned to one of the waitresses for his own and turned to the boy.

"Hm?"

"Did you have fun? A little birdie told me you were taking in our illustrious sights." Vaan's voice had a defensive note to it, and Balthier made sure not to smirk. Vaan was embarrassed about Lowtown. How quaint, he had probably spent the past while wondering what Balthier had thought of it compared to the wealth and comfort he was used to.

"Yes, quite informative I must say," the girl came by with his drink and gave it to him, and Balthier paid and thanked her.

"Informative," Vaan snorted. "Really."

"Much more interesting than up here," Balthier smirked and leant forward. "And at the moment the company looks considerably more friendly as well."

Vaan seemed to relax at that, an almost bashful smile lighting up his face.

"Yeah, well, pompous Sky Pirates will do that to a person."

"Excuse me but you're going to have to learn to be pompous. If, of course, you still want to become a Sky Pirate yourself."

"Who says I need you to tell me when I am one?" Vaan asked. "I wasn't aware you were the Lord of the Sky Pirates."

Balthier chuckled. The ale relaxed him and he had had a very comfortable day all around.

"You may never know Vaan, you may never know."

Vaan rolled his eyes and took a swig of ale. Balthier didn't miss the smile. And when the dancers came out, twirling their scarfs and twisting their bodies, Balthier noticed Vaan didn't meet his eyes, either.

--

They're running about the Westersand, and Balthier didn't realise it had happened until it had. He had been confused by something, he wasn't even sure what, though if he had enough sense to realise what it was then he wouldn't be as badly disoriented than he was now. He saw a blur of movement, and, thinking it to be the bastard that had struck him, raised his arm and shot.

There was a chilling silence beside the howl of the sandstorm around them, and then he heard a gasp. The sharp tang of smelling salts appeared under his nose, and he blinked his stupidity away to see Vaan standing before him. A blossom of red had appeared on his shoulder. Penelo (having been the one to revive Balthier) held her hands over her mouth and rushed forward to him, steadying him when he wavered.

The rest of the party in cold shock, Balthier didn't even register the dead beast impaled with not a bullet hole, but one of Fran's arrows, as he froze and Sirius toppled from his fingertips.

"Vaan," he said, numbly. The thief stared, with sickening surprise, down at the blood trickling over his shoulder.

"Cura," Fran whispered, and then it was gone. But the silence remained, and Balthier could only look helplessly up at the group as they stared in horror.

Vaan burst into laughter.

"What…" Ashe said. "What's so funny? You were shot!"

But Vaan only kept laughing, and smeared the remaining blood away.

"Lord of the Sky Pirates indeed!" he said, grinning, and then picked up his sword, returning to the hunt, and running back over the dunes with Penelo at his heels, his laughter on the wind.

Balthier, still in shock, could almost imagine him dispersing into sand and disappearing into the storm.

--

He visited Vaan in one of the quarters of the Strahl, afterwards. The boy was reclining on his bed eating that desert fruit he did so love and pouring over a volume of god-knows-what he had managed to steal from a Bazaar stall while handing over some loot. Balthier made no mention of the peach scarf hung over the post of the bed, and cleared his throat as he entered.

Vaan lowered the book and pushed himself up on one arm, Penelo's bed beneath him was mercifully empty.

"Hey Balthier," he said, tossing the last piece of fruit into his mouth and sitting up, brushing off his hands. The boy always seemed to be covered in some sort of sand or dirt. "What's up?"

"I was just checking on you," Balthier took the casual route and leant against the door. "I don't think I properly apologised."

"Hm? Oh, its fine, its happened before believe me!" Vaan chuckled to himself. "One time I was sparring with Penelo and her knife slipped against mine and she caught me in the stomach."

"Still, it was uncouth and…quite an…. and not…. comrade-ish of me."

"Oh so I'm a comrade now, not an apprentice?" Vaan asked with amusement, swinging his legs. Balthier flinched when a spray of sand hit him. "Sorry."

"No problem. I didn't think you cared what status I thought you of," he said snidely, entering the room a bit further.

"Apprentice isn't so bad," Vaan fell back on his bed, which hid his torso from view, but his dangling legs were still facing Balthier. "Comes with a few perks, anyway."

"Perks?"

"Yeah, I get to ride for free!"

A few moments Vaan pushed himself up a bit, tanned nose dusted pink. "The Strahl. Ride the Strahl…for free…"

"What else would I think?" Balthier shrugged, smiling roguishly. Vaan rolled his eyes and collapsed back again.

"Anything else you needed, captain?"

"No, no." Balthier left the room. Vaan didn't notice him tug the scarf off the bedpost and take it with him. Or, maybe he did, and he just didn't say anything.

--

They were in the desert again. Ashe and Balthier weren't exactly excited about it, but it was where Vaan and Penelo worked best and Fran was surprisingly interested about the nooks and crannies and oasis' they found there. Basch was, as ever, stoic and unreadable, though he seemed to gain some amusement in seeing the two teenagers dip in and out of the sands, each time returning to the party with more loot and no explanation as to how they got it.

They separated at some point, into pairs, to investigate the different routes and find where they led and whether or not they were dead ends. Balthier had been paired with Vaan, with a half serious and half not warning from Penelo not to shoot him again. Balthier didn't seem to find it as funny as Vaan did.

They were casually wandering over the dunes, and Balthier found himself trusting someone else for once as he followed Vaan blindly through the desert. Everything seemed identical and never-ending to him, but to Vaan it was an adventure well travelled. Balthier briefly thought that a child of the desert could never be lost in one, and then wondered what had brought that thought up. He was snapped out of his reverie when Vaan decapitated a passing wolf and straightened glancing over his shoulder.

Sandstorm eyes were twinkling in the reflection of the sky. Vaan grinned.

"Getting old Balthier? You keep daydreaming."

"'Tis nothing," Balthier strode forward, shaking his head to rid thoughts unwanted. "Where to go now?"

"Forward!" Vaan jogged to catch up with him and clapped a hand on Balthier's shoulder. "Always forward! Come on apprentice, learn your feet!"

"Apprentice?" the older man ran forward, grabbing Vaan's shoulder in an attempt to pull him back and proceed forward at the same time. "I'll show you – ARGH," Vaan had ducked down and caught him at the ankle, sending Balthier toppling and rolling down a dune. Vaan laughed uproariously, skidding down the dune after him.

Balthier staggered to his feet and caught Vaan at the torso in a low tackle to the foot of the dune, getting sand in uncomfortable places. Vaan's gasps overtook his laughs, and he shoved forward, but Balthier caught his hands and they began a pushing war until Balthier used his weight to keep Vaan's hands above his head and flatten the smaller boy against the sand.

They stayed like that for a quiet moment, in which they both fell into an awkward stance broken with harsh gasping and the hot whistle of wind across the desert, accompanied by a sweet scent in the air. It smelled of the fruits Vaan favoured, as did the platinum hair that obscured his vision. After Balthier's head began to lighten with the warm wind and the promise of a warm body beneath him, he found his thoughts and abruptly pulled himself off Vaan, who had stilled in an obvious defensive gesture.

"Apprentice," he muttered, brushing dust off his pants as Vaan slowly got to his feet. "Ridiculous."

Vaan laughed awkwardly, not even bothering to shake out the dust and sand of the desert as he walked ahead of Balthier, adjusting his small jacket.

"This way," he said. "To the ridge. That's where Penelo has likely led Fran."

They speak nothing of the incident when they return, but later Fran makes a remark when they are back aboard the Strahl that every day Balthier seems to be less and less of an aristocrat and more and more of a child of the desert. Not unlike Vaan, she says, and Balthier's silent reply is enough to make her unsettled.

--

When Balthier returns to his quarters, he finds the peach scarf gone, and his bed is littered with sand.

--

They are in Archades, the new Archades, the clean Archades, and everyone but Balthier cannot see that Penelo and Vaan are unsettled with it all. Fran, too, possibly, but she has already been surrounded by interested doting men with a penchant for the beauties of the jungle, and she has her own problems to deal with.

Ashe and Basch have both disappeared into the safety of an Inn under false names, to keep hidden and quiet. Balthier was considering calling up some old associates for some long awaited Gil, but that was until he caught Vaan and Penelo sitting together in the sheltered corner of the business district, subject of many scowls and harsh whispers of the wealthy.

"Come," he said, approaching them. A group of young women broke into whispers at this, wondering why one of them were approaching the street rats. "I shall take you to the Inn the others are staying at."

He was surprised when they both looked up, out of place and angry, and it was Vaan who took his hand.

--

"How did it come to this," Vaan sighed, on his back on the floor of the Bridge. An uncomfortable position maybe, but he said nothing of it.

"How did it come to what?" Balthier asked quietly, sitting in the pilot's chair. It was evening, and the Strahl was docked, but while the others stayed in the Inn, the two thought it more comfortable and safer to stay with the ship.

"Me, you, you know,"

Balthier blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected Vaan to bring that up.

"Some things cannot be explained."

"Obviously."

"It doesn't mean we have to act on it. It will pass." Balthier thought of offering Vaan a kind smile but it didn't come, so he busied himself flicking idle switches instead.

"…. Don't even know what it is." Vaan muttered, mostly to himself. His eyes glimmered in the reflection of the switches. Balthier didn't answer. The scarf dangled off the controls, shimmering in the sliver of moonlight and brushing across Vaan's face.

--

Its late and its dark with the exception of the waning candle on the bedside table and the lazy quiet is only broken by the shifting of sheets and the jingle of coins in a bag as Balthier takes his purse out of Vaan's back pocket and sets it down too, towering over the street rat with an unamused look. Vaan simply shrugs and grins, looking completely unabashed as he tilts his head to place an inexperienced kiss on the line of Balthier's jaw, drawing his attention away from the stolen Gil.

"I guess this is what it is," he mumbles thoughtfully, and Balthier chooses again not to answer, leaning down and kissing Vaan, not gently, but not roughly either. He didn't exactly want to scare the thief off. He breathed in deep, the smell of strange incense and smoke filling his senses. Vaan's cheeks radiated heat, and his skin tasted of salt.

Exploring the sensitive skin of Vaan's throat and shoulder, Balthier was surprised to find a faint white web of scar on his tanned shoulder. He kissed it and moved on. That's what Vaan always did, he moved on. Forward, always forward.

"Doesn't even hurt," Vaan mumbled, and that was the last thing he said that night.

Balthier found many other scars that night, as he trailed the sparkling peach scarf down Vaan's body and over his face, leaving a train of sand in its wake.

Fin