A.N: Keeping watch at night, after leaving Jahara, before entering Golmore Jungle. I always figured that Fran and Basch had a sort of tacit understanding between them. Because, all things considered, they have very similar dispositions and concerns.

And of course, this has nothing to do with the film by the same name.

Nightwatch

It was a new moon, but the sky above the plains was so perfectly clear that they wouldn't have needed a fire, if it weren't for general safety purposes. So many stars…Despite how much she loved the Strahl, she also appreciated the respite from its continuous drone and its metallic protection.

The air was warm, and barely a breath of wind stirred. Everything seemed peaceful, and the occasional snore from Vaan was the only foreign noise to disturb the otherwise organic night sounds of the plains.

And yet she was anxious. She had seen old Uball-Ka's confusion at being presented with the stone, and his genuine contrition at not being able to help. Surely he could see the princess' inner turmoil just as well as she could. They could all see it, and Supinelu was the first to remark to her that something troubled the hume child. She only nodded in return, and he knew that this was no ordinary matter.

(She wants that power so…Do they not see that it would lead to certain ruin?)

The two children were probably simply clueless. The boy-emperor seemed to be stubbornly refusing the possibility that the stone could have any kind of nefarious appeal, despite very likely being able to feel it himself. Basch saw, but he could not protect the princess from herself. Balthier…Balthier saw as well, but...

(Like father, like son.)

"Your hume seems restless, Fran. Is something amiss?"

Supinelu's choice of pronoun should probably have been pleasant to her, if it were not for the fact that Balthier really was restless. He knew what his father had become, his rational mind must have told him to beware. She also remembered warning him once. But he couldn't help the fascination, it seemed. Somewhere in his mind, she believed he recognized himself in the princess' wavering, and her decisions thus had a wider scope: if she embraced the stone…what would become of him then?

(Enough. There's no need to worry when we know so little. The Gran Kiltias may still be able to reason with her.)

She attributed the distance she put between herself and the princess wholly to the liability that the young woman presented. She was brash, furious, determined. Driven. All her energy and all her strength channelled into anger. Most viera saw humes like that, and she honestly couldn't blame them for being reluctant to interact with them based on this one presupposition only. It was more than enough for caution. But she had also noticed the princess' irritation regarding Balthier…And she knew perfectly well what it meant.

(She is strong and she is not used to things being out of her control. He is out of her control. So are her feelings. She blames herself, she blames him…And yet she cannot get him out of her thoughts.)

The princess would sometimes dart inquisitive looks at her, when she walked alongside Balthier, as if trying to ascertain the exact depth of their relationship. She would catch her light blue eyes, attentive to his movements whenever contact between them was involved. And she found herself wishing that what the princess saw could be conclusive. But there were only so many certainties she had left after that night, before the palace, before all this happened. They'd never spoken about it. And, more than anything, she was afraid that it had been just a whim. A momentary lapse. In all other respects, he was much the same with her as he had always been, attentive and playful. But that night had left a mark.

And once again, she reprimanded herself for not doing anything then.

(I could not know…)

Just then, a rustle of covers came from the direction of the fire, a welcome distraction from her troubled thoughts. She sat up and slung her quiver over her shoulder. According to the constellations, it was about two. She wondered if the captain had simply regained his military punctuality, or if he had somehow managed to retain a grasp on time in the depths of the Nalbina dungeons.

She watched as he sat, then stood up, grim and dutiful, gathering his sword and shield. He hovered silently over the princess for an instant, as if there were anything he could guard her from in her dreams. She smiled slightly into the gloom: he knew she could see him, and yet he trusted her silence. She was certain that this was the reason why he always volunteered for the next watch after hers.

They spoke little, and yet a tenacious thread of mutual respect had developed over time. She respected his pain and his quiet, unassuming, hopeless devotion to his princess. He respected her tact and her unswerving loyalty to her own reckless sky pirate.

They also both knew they had someone to save.

"Go get some rest," came in his deep, gruff voice.

She considered him for a moment as he stood waiting for her to relinquish her post. The ruthless slash above his left eye. The ghastly bruises she remembered seeing on his shoulders and back must have subsided by now, but some of the whip welts strayed down to his arms. Those were more difficult to ignore. So much pain, still so much pain. Silent. Stern. Careworn. And alone.

For a fleeting instant, she wondered if this was to be her fate as well. And the warm night air made her shiver.

He settled down against the tree she had been sitting under. She moved towards the firelight, back to her place at Balthier's side, when suddenly she stopped. An urge to feel that she wasn't alone. Not right then. Not like that.

She looked back over her shoulder to where Basch's frame was silhouetted against the tree trunk.

"I pray that we do not watch in vain."

And there was something unexpectedly fragile in her voice.

A pause. She wondered if he had understood.

"I pray that you're right," he answered quietly.

And for what it was worth, at least, she knew another shared her fears. Somehow, it made it a little easier.

She lay down quietly in the dusky orange glow. Balthier slept soundly next to her, his breathing even and soft, one arm absently stretched out halfway in her direction. She observed him for a moment before letting herself drift off. Tomorrow, she would be going home. A home where she wasn't welcome. It was the quickest way to Bur-Omisace. She hoped that he would eventually understand why.