Sorry. . It amazes me how much this couple is overlooked, mostly the pairings out there are Vaalthier or Balthashe. Oh well. P.
How the leading man and the leading lady became the best friends (or more?) that they are.
Oh and I almost forgot the disclaimer. I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY. Perhaps I will someday, when me and my army of about three other girl-gamers conquer the Empire that is Square-Enix. But until then, I own nothing. As usual. XD.
On with the fic, then?
CHAPTER ONE -
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The citizens of Rabanastre carried on their daily hustle and bustle through the crowded capital of the city as usual, taking the occasional shortcut to avoid the blasted Imperials who provided nothing but a reminder of the "scum that they were" as the Imperials liked to say when they needed the 'entertainment'. For entertainment was a concept not easily made into reality when it came to Rabanastre. Of course, you had the dress of the culture, with women showing a bit more skin than some would deem necessary (or to some, they weren't showing enough...) and the men with their curious style as well. Of course the style of cold metal armor was far too common for the citizens' comfort, but they could only fantasize of the day where the metal-clad fiends would depart. Armor. All this armor. As if a simple Rabanastran citizen would carry out an assault so soon after the war! But, if you interrogated any simple Rabanastran man, they would tell you that some manage to wear their armor, well, in a rather pleasing fashion. 'Like who?' you might inquire. And if the date of questioning was a rather warm day not quite two months after the Archadian occupation of the capital, the man might point to a rather curious, far-not-common-enouh visitor who strolled alone along the streets today.
The visitor in question tried not to notice the stares, tried not to notice the whispers, the gawking, the whistles, the attempts at far, far too personal contact. It was enough to make her wish she hadn't left Home, a choice that she could not take back. But she had reason to leave. However, she couldn't help but wonder what made her come here.
She did admit to herself, though to her usual (or used-to-be-usual) company it was perfectly acceptable, her choice of dress was risque even for the female population of the Dalmascan capital. Not many women shared her taste, such as her choice of strapped stilettos with built-in...claws. Or, for that matter, her thigh-high metal...whatever you want to call them, but they certainly weren't for sport, or formality, but who spent time finding a reason for them? There was so much more than that, as the men quickly noticed and settled their eyes on her...midsection. Once in a while they would spot the bow and quiver slung across her back behind her silvery flowing hair, which discouraged them, to her relief, from making any further mistakes. After about an hour, she grew used to the stares and continued on her way without second thought until a young man stumbled in front of her, but being more graceful, she jumped back in time.
"I, uh, sorry miss, I..." he began, and then his eyes, to her contempt, began to wander. "Are you..are you a...a..."
"VAAN! Honestly do you have no respect!?" yelled a young girl who ran up and pulled this Vaan to his feet.
"What? I'm only asking-" Vaan snapped back at the girl.
"I'm sorry, he won't be bothering you anymore," assured the girl as she grabbed Vaan's arm, giving the woman a slight smile. "What's your name? I haven't seen you around Rabanastre before," she inquired.
"My...name is Fran..." the woman responded, surprised at the bright young girl's question. She returned the question, appreciating the girl who was the first to treat her like a living being.
"I'm Penelo," the girl responded, smiling again. "And this is Vaan, who, like I said before, won't be bothering you anymore."
Fran smiled at Penelo, and continued on her way as Penelo dragged Vaan back into the busy crowds, scolding him after every step. She wished every Rabanastran would act like Penelo, with a little thing proper people like to call respect. The world of Ivalice outside Eruyt Village severely lacked it. But she mustn't think of the village...
As the viera wayfarer made her way down the Rabanastre streets, she began to miss the Penelo girl already. Catching her off guard, a man was suddenly behind her, his arms suddenly around her waist.
"Hey there babe," he whispered in a low, raspy voice. Fran froze. "You look lost, you poor thing...why don't we head in this direction, so I can, uh, show you around, huh?"
"I can find my way around well enough, thank you," said Fran in a most unappreciative tone. If the man did not take his hands off of her soon...
"Come on, babe, let me give you a ride around town," the man persisted in a much too suggestive voice.
"If you do not take your hands off of me now," began Fran in her low, icy voice. "I wi-"
"Now, now, there's no need for this," said another man walking towards the the two.
"You back off, I saw her first," hissed the man at the new man approaching, feeling threatened by the man's younger age and, well, better looks.
Fran had heard enough. Jabbing the man with her elbow, she turned and swung her leg up in a fierce kick to the side of the first man's head as he clutched his stomach in pain. The kick sent him to the ground, and he looked up at her with a menacing look in his eyes.
"Why you dirty little b-" he spat.
"Now, now, now! I think that's quite enough," said the second man. "There's no need for that." And with that, he took Fran's arm softly and guided her away from the busy street, leaving the first man seething.
"Now there, if you run into trouble again, you just come find me and I'd be more than willing to lend a hand, since I am the star of the show of course, although you seem to have that part of the matter covered," he said in an amused tone.
"Come find you so you can lay your hands on me instead?" Fran said angrily. "I think I've had enough of 'the star of the show' and the men in this accursed city!"
With that, she roughly pulled her arm away, and having enough of the streets, she walked through the first door that she could find and slammed it behind her, cursing the race of Hume men.
The place was dark, but her viera eyes quickly adjusted. Many people were there, sitting at tables and some at long counters and long bottles lined across the wall behind the counter. This reminded Fran of the stock of salves in the village, and again she felt a pang of guilt for leaving. The bartender approached her.
"Welcome to the Sandsea," he said pleasantly. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?"
"Golmore's Nectar," Fran said simply. Anything to bring her closer to home.
"Expensive choice," said the bartender. "Coming right up."
"No need to worry, I'll pay for the lady," said the second man from the scene before, sitting down beside her.
"I do not need your help," said Fran icily as the bartender handed her her drink. "Please do not follow me."
"Well if you cannot accept a drink I'll have to take you back home then, won't I?"
"Is that it? The viera must fulfill hume men's desires or else they are no good and should return to where they came from?!" Fran said, seething.
"Now, now then," the man began again as Fran began to drink from the glass in front of her. The drink had been in a different position than before, but she did not notice.
"Enough of you!" Fran said before he completed his sentence. And with that, she threw the rest of her drink at him and stormed out with as much dignity as she could gather.
As she walked out into the evening, she had made up her mind to leave the city at once in the morning. She was displeased to see that even in the evening the streets were crowded. Wanting to stay as far away from people as possible, she found an alley and continued her walk there. As she walked, however, her arms seemed to grow heavy, and soon her legs did as well. Gravity seemed to triple, and she had to kneel to catch her breath. As she looked up, her vision was foggy and she was seeing double. as she fell backward, she was caught before she hit the ground.
"Hey there, babe," a man said with an evil smile on his face and a bandaged gash on the side of his head.
"N-no..." Fran whispered. "Not you..."
"You know it, babe," he said, laughing. "and them, too," he continued, gesturing to two men standing behind him. "Why don't you take a walk with us."
Fran couldn't respond, nor could she stand. As the man stood up she slumped to the ground, her head spinning. She opened her eyes to see the men before her, and for the first time, she was truly horrified.
"I thought I told you to take a walk with us!" spat the man, grabbing her arm. Fran could do nothing. "Are you deaf?!"
"I'll take you myself," he said, beginning to drag her to the end of the alley, the men behind him sniggering. She thought she saw one unbutton his shirt.
"It's payback time, little lady," he snarled. "You should learn to watch your drinks carefully next time."
The last thing Fran felt before she passed out was her armor being ripped off of her already violated body...
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As she awoke to a clap of thunder and pouring, Fran realized she didn't have a clue how much time had passed, nor did she know where she was. She remembered the man with his arms around her waist, another younger man who took her away and later showed up in the Sandsea, her storming out, walking into the alley, and...
"Oh gods..." she whispered. She looked down at her bruised body with the rain cascading off of it. She tried to sit up but pain shot through to her core and she cried out, laying back down. She closed her eyes once more and tried to remain calm. What had she done to deserve this? As she cursed herself for being foolish enough to let this happen, sobs began to rack her body and her tears mixed with the rain for what seemed like hours. Drained, she pulled herself into a sitting position and sat against a brick wall, not being able to stop the sobbing.
"What have the bastards done to you..." a voice said softly.
Startled, Fran looked up into the face of the 'star of the show' from the day before.
"Not you too..." Fran said mostly to herself as she looked away and covered her exposed body as best as she could with her arms.
"There, there," he said as he touched her shoulders. Fran jerked and pulled away from his touch, startled.
"Leave me!" she commanded, beginning to cry again.
"I'm not going to hurt you," said the man as he touched her shoulder again softly. Fran did not pull away this time. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. "Please," he said softly. "Let me help you." Fran said nothing.
The man began to take off his gold embroidered vest leaving only a white buttoned shirt. Terror quickly plagued Fran's mind again.
"Please, no," she said in a voice that could only reach a whisper. The man unbuttoned his shirt and put his arm behind the middle of Fran's back. Fran flinched again at the contact.
He moved her off from against the wall and passed his shirt to the other hand. He took Fran's arm gently and pulled it through one of the sleeves, and then did the same thing with her other arm. She looked up at him with confusion.
"Why?" she asked meekly.
"The star of the show must be a gentleman, after all," he responded with a slight smile as he buttoned the shirt up. "There. A little better?"
"Thank you..." she responded softly.
With that he put his embroidered vest back on and picked her up and she put her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest.
"You're safe now," he said, carrying her out of the alley. He made his way through the empty streets, water still pouring from the dark sky. Fran could feel his wet shirt clinging to her slight frame. She sensed him travel down a long flight of stairs and into a building. She heard the chatter of many people but did not open her eyes. She could feel the stares. She gripped the man's neck tighter and slowly, the voices faded as he entered a less populated area.
She heard him pull some sort of lever and heard the hydraulic opening of a doorway. As he stepped in, she heard the door close. He walked into a much smaller room and with one arm holding her, he pulled back the cover of a bed and set her there. He knelt beside her at eye level.
"Are you alright?" he asked with concern in his face and voice.
"Yes," Fran said simply. "But I never asked the name of the star of the show."
The man smiled as he moved a strand of hair out of her face.
"It's Balthier."
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I like this one alot better than the last story I wrote. Please be a dear, and review for me? I'll love you forever.