Title: Bromantic Writing of a Will; or rather, The leading man's will
Story: Time's Scar
Author's Note: I finished my homework for this weekend, and even though I'm not ready to update Time's Scar, I wanted to write something to cure my boredom. You will recognize this part from chapter 13 of TS, where Lightning was given Balthier's will. As you could see, there was something going on behind the scenes as he wrote it, and here it is. The only two characters in this are Balthier and Snow, though the others are mentioned. Gods. I love the bromance.
Never in his life had Balthier faced something so terrifying.
When Snow tossed the unopened journal in his lap, the aging sky pirate was unable to come up with one of his usual witty and sarcastic remarks. He found it hard to do that anyway, these days. Snow, leaning against the door frame and watching Balthier's confused expression, frowned gently and sighed.
"You've gotta do it someday, Balthier," he said quietly. "You've only got twenty more years until...Well, until you-know-what happens."
Balthier, lip quirked upward, pushed the journal away with one finger. "Look, Ice, twenty years is a long time. I'm only thirty, remember? Etro won't take my mortality until twenty-five years after the deal was made."
"Do I care?" A pause. "Yes, of course I do, but that's not the point I'm trying to make here. I don't trust the gods, even if they brought Lightning back to life. Etro's just as bad as the fal'Cie—she's the one who damned Ragnarok to his miserable life, which made him that psychotic, angry beast that nearly killed us."
"And, what exactly are you saying?"
"We don't know if Etro is gonna stay true to her word. She could kill you at any given moment and I wouldn't be able to stop her. I don't...I don't want to have to see you die, Balthier. Not again."
The sky pirate, drumming his fingers atop the desk, turned his tired eyes toward the window looking over Rabanastre. Fran and Lightning were off taking care of a Hunt (some beast called the Shadowseer), and didn't want him to go along, knowing that he'd somehow get into trouble. Snow volunteered to watch over him at the palace while Ashe was away on political business, and despite Balthier's complaints, Lightning insisted that it was the best thing to do. The self-acclaimed hero, of course, took advantage of being alone with Balthier.
"This situation is the is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about my soon-to-be death." Balthier crossed his arms. "I knew you would react like this..."
"It's not everyday you learn that your best friend is going to die before he reaches fifty."
"Yes, but why give me an entire journal to write this...will? I'll only use but a single page."
The Dalmascan lord's cheeks were tinted pink. "I thought that, maybe, you could use it as an actual journal, you know? Write about all your sky pirating adventures so you're not forgotten in the years to come."
Balthier forced a smile just so Snow wouldn't know that, in the future, the Bunansas would be nothing more than engineers in a small town, barely earning enough money to survive. At least the Villiers and B'nargin dynasty wouldn't end in the same way; unless he was mistaken, there would be a young knight that would take after Snow and inherit the ragnarok blade. And, as always, there would be a Princess much like Ashe.
"No doubt this journal will be one of Lightning's few sources of happiness after I'm gone," Balthier mused, opening the journal. The pages were blank, and the scent of untainted words came over his senses. "Remind me, again. What exactly am I to write in this?"
"It's your Last Will and Testament. You write down all the things you wanna leave to people. At least, that's what Ashe told me. I've already written mine."
"And here I was hoping I could pester you about writing it..."
Snow grinned. "I'm sure you'll find other things to bother me about."
Balthier tapped the quill in the ink bottle before turning toward the journal again. Snow was standing beside him, looking over his shoulder as if to make sure he was doing exactly as told. The sky pirate, scowling, began to write.
'I intended for this to be my "Last Will and Testament", or so Ice calls it, but it's not my time to part just yet. It's the year seven-hundred-eleven in our Valendian calendar, and I am now thirty years old.'
He stopped, looking at himself in the mirror above the desk. Balthier frowned upon not noticing much change. Apart from a grayish tint in his eyes, there was nothing different from when he was only twenty-two, when he first got himself tangled with the gods. Snow didn't look much older, either, but there was wisdom and maturity behind his still-young eyes. Balthier was slightly jealous at that.
He continued to write. 'No—young. I'm not old just yet. Fran says I'm not allowed to become like my father until I am actually the same age as he was. A shame that day will never come.'
"Sheesh," Snow glowered. "Don't be so dramatic and depressing, Balthier. Sure, you're talking about your death and all, but be more...I don't know, happy?"
"Silence yourself, Ice."
'Upon learning of my sooner-than-later demise, Ice refuses to stop his pestering and demands that I write this before my time is up. The man is right, and unfortunately, I don't credit him enough for that.'
Snow was grinning.
'I suppose that's why I'm leaving him any Gil I've managed to save in his name, though considering that he's now the Lord of Dalmasca, he won't need it. I don't dare leave him the Strahl—he would end up destroying my poor girl, no doubt. Furthermore, Ice, you are not allowed to set one foot near her. You're much to clumsy these days.'
At this, Balthier turned around and gave the Dalmascan lord a charming smile. "There, does that suffice for you? All the Gil I own and a restraining order from the Strahl. Much better than you thought you'd inherit, eh?"
"You could have at least given me ownership of your old home. That's what Ashe wants you to do, anyway."
"Only Archadian blood will own that place, Ice. And you are far from Archadian. We wouldn't wear such an...atrocious looking trench coat."
"That hurt my dignity, Balthier."
"Didn't know you had any."
'The Strahl, as much as it pains me to admit this, will be placed in Vaan's care. I know that he will continue his sky pirating life even when he's an old bastard, terrorizing the skies that were once mine and claiming that he's the leading man. I suppose that means I surrender that title to him as well, in this will. Well, of course not. The leading man always has a leading lady, and Vaan will not have mine.'
Balthier smiled for a moment. Even though Lightning wouldn't admit it until much later in her life, he knew that she (as Penelo always put it) loved him. It was an peculiar feeling, knowing that someday, Lightning would be forced to walk the world with just the memory of her past. He could only look forward (or was it backward?) to when he would surprise her in the city of Dorter, rescuing her and Snow's heir from headhunters.
That look she would give him, seeing him for the first time in over one-thousand years, told him exactly how she felt.
'Upon the time of Vaan's death, the Strahl will return to Fran.'
"You know, Fran isn't immortal like Light is," Snow interrupted, placing a hand on Balthier's already tense shoulder. "She'll live longer than both of us, but definitely not for eternity."
The sky pirate only rolled his eyes.
'And, after, you wonder? I know by that time, air ships will no longer be of use. My girl will, sadly, be put to rest during this time.'
"Wait...Balthier, how do you know that?"
"All in good time, Ice."
'As for Draklor Laboratory and the Bunansa estate...I'd prefer to leave them be. However, according to our dearest Queen, either I must declare an heir or leave the property in her name. She has expressed distaste in this manner, and so I am forced to leave these damned places to whomever arises later on as my heir. The Bunansa name won't end, at least from what I've witnessed. Sadly, we Bunansas will be reduced to what dear old Cid would have called peasants.'
Snow continued to ask questions, but just like the many times before, he was ignored.
'I believe there is nothing left for me to pass on...'
"I think you're leaving something out, Balthier. What about Lightning?"
Balthier paused, closing his eyes. He remembered the stone—Ultima's stone. The teardrop crystal that Serah had given to Snow upon her crystallization, the stone that separated Ragnarok from Balthier, and the stone that was replaced in the Glabados Ruins, found by Mydia, and given to Penelo. Ultima's soul was within it the entire time.
"Ice. Do you still have that, ah, crystal that belonged to Serah?" Balthier asked.
Snow pulled out the teardrop crystal from his pocket. "Yeah, it's right here. What about it?"
"I'm giving it to Lightning. You said that Serah is long gone and that you're ready to move on. Why not let go of that crystal?"
"I...I guess you're right."
Reluctantly, he handed the crystal to Balthier, who grimaced when he felt the Mist touch his skin. It was unnerving to know that deep within that crystal lie Ultima, the one that forced him to return to his time when he wanted to remain at Lightning's side. He trembled, still wondering what would happen to her and the others.
'To my dearest leading lady, I bestow to you the crystal that once belonged to your sister. I once told you that this particular Stone held no value now that she is gone, but I was wrong. And for that, I must apologize. This Stone is more than we believed. I can only hope that you will find the means to destroy it before it is too late. Signed, Ffamran mied Bunansa'
"There," Balthier said with a sigh. "It's done. My will, all written out and ready to be put into motion."
Snow smiled faintly, wrapping a reassuring arm around Balthier's shoulders. "You said so yourself: twenty years is a long time."
"Yes, but I can't help but wonder if the end of my mortality will come before that."
Balthier stood up from his chair and left without another word. Snow, on the other hand, looked at the journal laying on the wooden desk and frowned. After checking to see if the sky pirate had left for the time being, he picked up the quill and wrote at the bottom of the page:
'Dammit, Balthier, for once—call me by my real name. This is supposed to be official! I don't think "Ice" will suffice in the Court.'
