o0 a much needed rest 0o
These months have been filled with trial. You need time to get to know people – and time, it seemed to Balthier, had run out. They needed to get to work on the Bahamut/right now/, lest it fall to Rabanaster…
The Viera are a mysterious people. Those who venture outside their home stray the world in pairs, or alone, but still hold the secrets of their birthplace. Balthier had managed to befriend such a creature years ago, and even today he didn't know the half of her. Surely, he trusted her with is very life, and she him. So, when he barked at her to follow, and tried to instill some confidence into the boy before their departure, he grunted in impatience as she paused outside the cockpit. Thin, delicate but deadly fingers grappled for some object above the bulkhead, her curved claws finding their mark and lifting a small pouch from the container.
"Fran-" Balthier said sternly –
"One moment," she said over the roar of gunfire outside the ship. Balthier twitched, grimacing as some explosion rocked the cabin, and willed the Viera to hurry.
Fran pawed through the pouch she had taken, and after what seemed an eternity, removed a small object that pulsed an eerie green glow. She then knelt, her long body folding to accommodate the young newly sired emperor beside her. With the utmost care, her long fingers grasped the young lord's, and placed the object him his palm.
"A gift of the wood, given to me… I need it not," she said, looking away for a moment, before returning her gaze to the boy. "Use it well for those in need." Her crimson eyes flickered to the dying man before them, and as Balthier nearly whined behind her, she stood and strode away, leaving Larsa to grasp the cot fiercely as another explosion rocked the craft. Basch grabbed the boy to steady him.
"You…. You must end this," breathed Gabranth, his eyes filled with pain and unfocused. "Take my… voice, brother."
Basch frowned in confusion, but Larsa stood quickly, pocketing the orb-like object Fran had given him and yanking the Dalmascan's knight's hand as he scrambled into the cockpit. Thrusting the com into Basch's hand, the knight dawned realization, and took the piece of equipment to his lips.
As Basch moved to speak, the Straul slid from its grasp, flying past the carnage, freed from the towering Bahamut. He paused and gathered himself, and spoke.
His brother's voice and tone easily slid from this throat, an accent he had not heard for years since their separation. Larsa backed him, and the sweet sound of war ending was brought by the lost princess of Dalmasca. Her solemn voice quivered near the end, and with it Basch felt his throat tighten as well, and placed a caring hand upon his charge's shoulder and squeezed.
The crashes of ships, the gunfire, the blood, it all ended. And for a few moments, there was peace. A peace that she had wanted her whole life, and here it was… for a few blessed moments. She gasped when a horrible groan welled its way up past the ship, and she realized that the craft they had just escaped had begun to descend to the planet.
Aboard the Bahamut, Balthier groaned to himself as debris went flying mere inches from his face. Frowning, he wiped his brow and fiddled with his tools, finally yanking the mechanism free and displaying the alternate power crevice. Beside him, his partner worked furiously on transferring power from the damaged main conduit to Balthier's node, her brilliant white mane becoming tarnished in the dust.
Fran paused, adjusting her com unit, and turned to Balthier.
"You should hear this," she shouted over the din, cranking the unit's speakers. Balthier paused, and hissed when the sound of the judge's voice bellowed over the roar of the ship's destruction.
"Toss it here!" He yelled, and put a hand out to stop the equipment as Fran slid the thing over to him. The metal stung as he palmed it and cranked the dial to send and receive.
"Let's not be to hasty with our lives, princess. Best let me fix the Bahamut before we ram her, yes?" He called into the air, sliding the precious liquid glossair crystal into the first slot.
Aboard the Straul, Larsa's eyes widened at Balthier's ever charming voice as it carried through the cabin.
"Balthier!" Ashe cried, hands gripping the com as if tethering Balthier to safety with them. "Do you know what you're doing?!"
He smirked aboard the Bahamut, gracefully implementing the power to the Glossair drives. Beside him, Fran slammed the wires together, and power hummed from the dying main power supply to Balthier's handy work. The craft rocked, and he coughed, dust and debris scattering over the deck.
"Ship's yours, for now, Vaan," he yelled, a prickle of nerves standing his hair on end. He turned, and felt his heart thud loudly against his chest – his partner, his Viera, lay dormant in a pool of dust and blood. The scene horrified him, and he struggled to keep his voice steady as he scrambled over to her. The sky pirate scooped up his partner.
Fran's eyes fluttered for a moment, before she smiled softly at him before burying her nose in the ornate collar of his shirt and neck and going lax in his arms. He cursed softly, and just before he fled to the awaiting cargo ship, just before the falling beams crashed into the deck he'd stood on not thirty seconds before, he heard Ashe's voice call his name on the com before the equipment was shattered to bits.
Onboard the Straul, Ashe quivered with emotion as the Bahamut crashed gracefully outside the walls of Dalmasca, a cloud of smoke engulfing the area. Basch lowered his head and stood close behind his queen, the heat of his body warmth against her back. She trembled, her strong will cracking, and turned to him, colliding. Behind them, Larsa bowed his head and rubbed his hands against his arms, feeling suddenly chilled. He turned quickly and headed back into the outer cabin.
Gabranth rested fitfully. Larsa knelt and took his hand with both of his, and watched as the weary eyes opened and focused upon him.
"My… lord," the felled knight whispered. Larsa felt his iron grip faltering on his emotions, and squeezed the limp hand fiercely. Behind him, he sensed Basch. The Dalmascan knight knelt beside Larsa, eyes weary and solemn. Gabranth reached for his brother, and Basch took hold of the hand tightly.
As the brothers gave oaths of protection and apologies for time wasted between them, Larsa felt the sting of tears. He looked down, not wanting his Judge to see his face, and frowned in confusion. A soft, green glow emanated from his shirt cloths. Reaching inside the folds, he removed the foreign object. It was small and round, a seed or nut. Small tendrils wrapped around it, and resembled a knot of a root. It pulsed with a green glow, with flecks of white upon the surface.
The boy's eyes widened as the light seemed to lift from the surface of the root, and hovered there for a moment. Basch paused his words and watched as well. The light spun lazily around Larsa's fingers. The young emperor gasped as tingling warmth flooded his hand, then left him to explore Basch. The knight stiffened, the green flecks of light dancing on his fingers. Then without warning, the glow shot forward towards Gabranth, down his arm and sinking into his chest. Gabrath gasped, eyes jamming shut and arching off the cot. Basch leaned forward with a start and placed his palm on his brother's chest. Larsa held his breath and grasped the cot tightly as his protector held his breath.
Light danced in and out of the judge's body, like a stone skipping upon calm water. Gabranth's eyes remained jammed shut, his brow contorted in pain.
"Noah?" Basch asked harshly. "What was that, my lord?!"
"I – I am unsure, the lady Fran handed it to me before she fled –"
"..Unh…"
Gabranth moaned softly, and relaxed, his brow smoothing and his body easing back to the cot. His head fell gently to the pillow and his breathing evened before pausing. Larsa and Basch froze. For a few terrifying moments, there was no sound, but then –
The soft breath, and exhale.
Larsa gripped Basch's arm tightly. Basch trembled, and felt the racing heartbeat beneath his palm slow and even itself out.
Basch leaned forward, shakily lifting the underclothes of the judge's armor and pulling up to reveal the well-toned chest. Where once had been the darkening purple of broken bones and sullied and damaged organs - smooth, unbroken flesh rose and fell softly with the archadian knight's breathing.
"He – he –" Basch stammered, shaking his head –
"His wounds… " Larsa whispered, one clothed hand touching the stomach with awe.
Ashe entered the scene confused, as Basch's head was dipped forward and touching his brother's shoulder, the brow pressed deeply into Gabranth's flesh while the young Lord Larsa used one hand to hold Gabranth's, and the other to gaze in wonder at a small circular object he held in his hand.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
In a small town outside of Rabanaster and north of the westersand, Balthier dozed fitfully. A noise woke him and he jumped, blinking and looking for the disturbance.
Beside him on the single guest bed, Fran gazed back at him.
"You're awake," he blurted, the chiseled and polished aloof demeanor absent in his grogginess. She nodded, curls of white mane bouncing with the movement without the ornate headgear to hold them back.
"I'm glad, you scared me," he said, voice raspy. He scrubbed his face with his hand, his vest off and shirt wrinkled. Fran nodded again. She'd been awake for a few minutes. She'd sworn she'd heard the wood speaking to her in her dreams. She'd seen the face of a blond man, with a boy clutching his hand, and then she'd awoken to the twilight of dusk and a sleeping Balthier beside her. Light from the small village's lamp post crept into the small inn and placed a halo around Balthier's head as he stilled and gazed at her.
"Are you feeling better? You took quite a tumble, and slept for a long time," he asked.
"Indeed," she said, resting her head back against the woven pillow, her ears resting against the copper headboard. He looked down at her, his eyes soft with some unusual emotion. An owl hooted outside and the sounds of nighttime began to filter into the small room.
"What is it?" she asked.
Balthier smirked, and lay back down, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm just terribly pleased that we got out of all this alive and well," the pirate said gently.
She nodded, eyes wise and knowing.
"You are still tired. Rest a bit, then."
Balthier nodded. He slid back down to the pillow and faced her, a hand tucked under his pillow. They looked at each other for a moment, and then she watched him close his eyes and drift off. She reached out a hand to him, grazing his cheek. He leaned into her touch as he slept.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It was not Larsa's first time in Rabanaster, though every time he visited, the city seemed more majestic. While Archades had its own architecture and expanse, Rabenaster seemed to Larsa to speak of elegance and decadence from times past.
He stood staring out at its beauty from the royal palace, the curtains billowing in the open breeze. The celebration continued – fireworks seared the sky and lights from many a fireplace lit the city, bringing it alive. It seemed even sweeter to him, since he knew that his own city of Archades, and perhaps cities in Rosarria, also celebrated with such fervor.
The boy emperor turned, and padded across the marble floor. The room was dark, save for a single green candle that burned beside the bed and the hearth at the head of the room. The fire crackled softly and filled the room with a pleasant smell. Gabranth rested peacefully, his armor removed and clad in an open white undershirt. Basch sat beside him, close, leaning against an elegantly upholstered chair. He dozed, blond chin pressed against his chest.
Larsa stood beside the bed, gloved fingers trailing over the sheet, other hand holding the small orb that Fran had gifted him with. He wondered where she was – if she was alive, with Balthier was alive –
"…my lord…"
Larsa looked up, and met Gabranth's gaze. The judge's eyes were heavy with sleep, but intense. Larsa placed the root on the night table, and lifted himself to the mattress.
"How do you feel, lord judge?" he asked quietly, a strand of dark hair blowing before his nose in the breeze.
Gabranth closed his eyes and took a deep breath before replying.
"I feel… like I've just woken from a long, strange dream," he whispered, his gaze falling to his sleeping companion. It seemed more difficult than usual to raise his arm, but he managed to reach out and touch his brother's leg. Basch tilted his head to the right and frowned, before calming in his sleep. "I've spent so much time hating him… and now… all that seems for naught. I was so… blind for so long…" He groaned, moving his head back and forth on the ornate satin pillow. "I don't know what to think."
The judge turned his head and met Larsa's gaze.
"All that matters is you. Ever since your brothers died… since the emperor died… since I got here…" he shook his head, "All that matters is you."
Larsa swallowed, emotion clogging his throat at such dedication. He met Gabranths gaze squarely and nodded with sincerity.
"We have all struggled these past years. Your dedication to myself and our empire has been steadfast. You do yourself honorably."
"No –" Gabranth growled – "I traded one hatred for another. My hate for what happened to my family, my life it – it became hatred for my brother, Dalmasca, those who did not deserve –"
"Does it look like you have lost him?" Larsa asked quietly. "Look at him, by your side. Exhaustion takes him, but he does not leave. He is not sitting beside his lost queen of Dalmasca – he is sitting beside you."
Gabranth blinked slowly, and looked to his brother for a few minutes.
"… how do I deserve such loyalty?"
Larsa smiled.
"I just asked myself the same question, my lord."
Basch murmured something unintelligible and sighed.
"But you have not failed us, my lord. You have served our people well and with strength, and give us hope for the future. I murdered his king, I murdered his /king/ - his people – because Vayne told me to – "
"You know my brother was misguided. You did as you were commanded –"
"It does not make it right!"
"But it is in the past," Basch said quietly from the chair. Larsa and Gabranth silenced.
"The past is full of pain, my lords," he breathed, "But now we must look to the horizon, as the Lady Ashe has spoken." Basch grasped the hand on his leg warmly. "We have all made mistakes. You /do/ have honor, brother. He sits beside you, alive and well."
Larsa touched Gabranth's shoulder, his white glove pressing gently on the white shirtcloth. The judge closed his eyes tightly, as if containing some unwanted emotion.
"How feel you?" Basch asked, squeezing the hand he held.
Gabranth opened his eyes wearily. "I feel… tired. And slightly… off. Does that make sense?" He paused, gaze turning inward. "How am I so well in health? I thought… surely… "
Larsa shook his head.
"It was most odd. The Viera pirate, Lady Fran, gave me a kind of medical help, and it saved your life. I have never seen anything like it."
Gabranth brought his free hand to his chest.
"It appears you have befallen the good type of people, brother. I am… envious. And in your debt."
A rare smile crossed Basch's face, a small lift of the lips. Gabranth remembered a time when his brother smiled often and his laughter was rich with heart.
Larsa broke the moment with a stifled yawn. The crackle of the fire filled the space and Gabranth found his eyelids drooping against his will. Larsa removed his gloves, and then his shoes. Basch and Gabrath watched as the young emperor fluffed the empty pillow behind him, grasp a book from the nightstand, and settled down against the headboard. Basch raised an eyebrow, his scar stretching.
"Lord Gabranth is my protector – I shan't be going anywhere, when he needs his rest. I want him to be at peace –" Larsa smiled over his book, "And know that I am not in harms way. I will be right beside him."
Basch smiled again, nodding. Gabranth huffed indignantly, but before he could say anything, a breeze came in from the open window and caressed his face, distracting him. He paused, the simple wind a welcome touch.
"I am… glad I am still here, brother," he whispered, eyes opening again, with considerable effort. "Basch…"
"Its alright," Basch said, shifting position and getting comfortable. "We will do this together, re-learn ourselves together, and go forward."
"I am very… very luck to have you, brother. I am sorry…"
"Shh," Larsa said, communicating with Basch with a look. "Rest now, my lord." The young emperor placed a small hand on Gabranth's brow. The judge inhaled and exhaled deeply, his eyes seeming to close at the touch.
"What are your plans, Basch?" Larsa asked, as he rested the book upon his knees.
"I… must discuss it with the Lady Ashe. I will do what she asks of me. It will be my greatest honor to see Dalmasca restored to her former glory."
Larsa nodded. "I will help, and then return to Archades, though Lord Gabranth's decision will be up to him –" The boy looked to his judge, but Gabranth's nose was pressed into Larsa's forearm and dresshirt, his eyes closed and breathing steady. Basch nodded in understanding.
"Peace is upon the horizon, for us all, Lord Larsa. And for the first time in… many, many years," he looked to his brother, "I feel… whole again."
Larsa smiled.
"Indeed."
o0 fin 0o