In which Balthier, having faced his past, decides to embark toward his future.
Balthier drained his ale, though he was loath to do so for that meant ordering a new one. It wasn't a quality ale; it burned the back of his throat in an unpleasant way that did not get better with each swig. But it was, at the very least, strong-that is to say, effective.
He and Fran sat in the corner of a tavern that was bustling with questionable activity. The tavern itself was situated in a popular outpost for travelers, though it was slightly off the main path of respectable travelers. Dangerous marks were posted near the entrance, while other, more menacing men, dealt their trade in the shadowed tavern. Amongst them all, it was an ideal place to hide, or brood as Balthier currently was.
"Don't look at me like that, Fran," Balthier said in a gruff voice, avoiding the Viera's scowl piercing him. His fingers traced the pewter rim of his empty tankard. "You know what you were getting into when you agreed to accompany me tonight."
"You were careless," Fran said calmly, gently, reminding him of why he was currently drowning himself with ale. "And now an innocent man is in prison."
Balthier winced but shrugged, feigning indifference. "At least he still has his life."
He stared at his tankard-was he on his third or fourth? Did it matter? He looked up, catching the barkeep's eye as he raised the tankard in a silent request.
Fran frowned deeply but sat back and crossed her slender arms. "You were careless because you were distracted."
Balthier scoffed. "Distracted? Far from it." The barkeep came by with his ale and the sky pirate dug into his pocket for a coin, which he wordlessly flipped in the direction of the barkeep, who in turn caught it with practiced ease.
"Distracted because Her Majesty left a message on your transmitter, which you have listened to five times already."
Damn Fran and her impeccable observational and listening skills.
"Will you go to her as she's asked?"
His answer was to simply shrug for he did not know. His relationship with the queen had grown...complicated as of late. Mornings at the palace often found him lingering longer than he did six months ago, many times with him and the queen sharing a late breakfast, after which he would slip from the palace to spend the day in the city, only to return again that night. The very fact that he was able to notice these changes was evidence in itself at the frequency of his visits...which in turn was a change.
The days spent away from the palace-which had lessened with each passing month-were filled with thoughts of the queen and when he would quests and adventures he had longed for, and had previously filled him with such daring promise now lacked the luster that caused him to run from the start. In their place, he felt warmth and attachment, and unease at being separated from a woman who was filled with a fierce loyalty and determination, and such tenderness outside of her duties.
In short, he had fallen in love and he was quite vexed with himself for it.
With a sound that could only be described as a growl, he drained a large portion of his ale.
These distractions, as Fran liked to call it-more like inconvenience-had cost him a few times, number one being his reputation, which seemed to be fading into the whisper of time. It was a point of fact that bruised his ego though, strangely, he felt no desire to remedy it. The most recent price for his distraction was paid during an ill fated raid of an ancient Nabradian tomb. It ended with a man he had only met once being shipped off to prison. All because...bah, it didn't matter. He was careless as Fran had said.
"Perhaps," Fran began gently, some of her previous scowl melting away. "Perhaps it is time to face your future, now that you have faced your past."
The tension that Balthier had not been of aware of having melted so that he suddenly felt weary, exhausted.
Had he faced his past? He faced his father, that was certain, but was his death truly the closure Balthier was seeking? The whole business was more complicated than his goings on with the queen. He now felt a sense of regret where there was once anger. But there was freedom in having done what he had done, and in that freedom held the promise of peace.
Strange how only a year ago, the promise of freedom was in the sky.
"Your heart is telling you what your mind won't," Fran said, perhaps sensing his thoughts. "It is acceptance you seek, to regain what once was lost. Family."
"And what of you, Fran?" Balthier sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Will you search again for the family you lost?"
Fran lowered her head at his question, a sorrowful look entering her eyes. It pained him to see her like this. "The Wood will not have me back but," she lifted her eyes, smiling at him through silver lashes. "I have found a new family and I will not lose it should you pursue yours. Is that not itself an adventure?"
Family. It was a word he had not associated with himself in a long time, not since his mother fell to sickness, his father returned from a quest wrong, and his brothers were lost to the judges. It was ridiculous that after everything-running away, and the killing of his own father-that another would be in sight, attainable if only he would stop…
...running.
"Go to her," Fran said. "She has been patient with you but there is fire, and determination in her heart. She will not wait forever." Fran said this with a small smile, as if proud of the queen for her strength.
Balthier also found his lips tugging upwards into a smile as he, too, thought of Ashe's strength. "I suppose consort to the queen has a nice ring to it," Balthier said, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He, former judge turned sky pirate turned...royalty. Absurd indeed and yet…
"A fitting title for a leading man," Fran said.
Balthier chuckled but grew solemn as he caught Fran's eyes, humor fading as he regarded his partner of eight years. She had been with him through everything, and was more loyal than the noble knights of legend. He had not embarked on an adventure as a sky pirate without her.
But perhaps, like Reddas searching for a place to lay down his shame and regrets, Balthier, in past months, had been searching for a place upon which to hang his mantle as a sky pirate.
"You'll be all right?" Balthier couldn't help the clench of guilt he felt as he said it.
Fran's look turned coy, her way of showing arrogance. "I have navigated the world without you," she reminded him. "We shall see each other often. I dare say the queen will not keep you captive in the palace."
Balthier's lips quirked into a smirk. He looked past her, seeking out the barkeep again, and when he got the man's attention, ordered his finest wine. When the two glasses arrived, a sloshing burgundy liquid within, the two pirates raised them.
"To the future," Bathier toasted, taking a generous gulp and immediately grimacing as it burned down his throat. Fran daintily placed the glass back on the table wordlessly. Balthier followed suit. "I dare say I'm looking forward to the quality selection in the palace's wine cellar."
A week later, after Balthier attended to his affairs-one of them being the...liberation of an innocent man from prison-his feet landed softly on the polished stone of a certain queen's balcony.
The Strahl was safe in Fran's capable hands, ready for him should he have need of it.
It was a dark night and quiet, with no moon, and the stars hidden by thick clouds. The rainy season would be upon them soon. A soft breeze came from the west, wrapping around him, as if pushing him to step through the tall and ornate balcony doors.
He reached out and touched the smooth metal handle, hesitating for only a moment, turning it with a click. It opened easily and soundlessly and the cool air of the palace rushed out to him.
He stepped out from the dark cloak of night and into the dimly lit chambers of the queen and stopped. For there she was, standing mere feet away. It was clear she had been waiting for him, though to anyone else who entered the room, the queen was only relaxing after a long day of politics.
She was dressed on a thin nightgown, holding a thick book bound in leather in one hand, her place held by an unadorned finger. Perhaps she heard him on the balcony and stood in anticipation of him entering, for the linen blanket that had been draped across her legs a moment ago was now pooled at her feet.
She was lovely-no, beautiful-in the soft lighting, golden from the shade of the lamp. Her fair hair was left unbound and though her eyes held evidence of a long day, they were also filled with tenderness, simply happy to see him. Her rose colored lips were pulled in a small smile.
Ashe set her book on the intricately carved table beside her and came to Balthier, slender hands reaching out to him until they landed on his chest and gently rose to his shoulders, pulling him in an embrace that he returned with an outpour of relief that she had indeed waited for him.
"How long will you stay," Ashe asked quietly, her voice a whisper of breath against his neck. She placed a small kiss against his warm skin and his heart drummed in his chest.
"For as long as you'll have me," he answered in an equally soft voice that spoke of a silent promise.
