~One Month Later~

I've yet to get out of bed, and it's late in the evening. My stomach's crying for food, but I haven't had to energy nor the will to eat in nearly five days. I drink water only when the pain becomes unbearable, but even then, I nearly throw it all up again. Penelo stopped by with fresh flowers and bread earlier; she spoke gingerly as if she was afraid of breaking me. Perhaps she was right to do so. The last time Vaan said that cursed name, he left with a black eye, a bloody nose, and cut that left a nasty scar across his forearm. Groaning, I turn over in my sheets, trying to cool off.

Ashe made sure to provide us all with places to stay for as long as we needed. Vaan and Penelo, of course, rejected her offer. Apparently, they live with that crazed bangaa that came into the tavern demanding that some sky pirates save Penelo. Shit. That was centuries ago. Two weeks ago, Basch trimmed his hair short and headed to Archadia to act as Gabranth in his brother's place. I know it's all to protect Larsa, but... To play your brother's part for the rest of your days? It sounds like misery. I was supposed to leave with them, but I wasn't deemed well enough, and Basch was convinced that leaving everyone I knew and staying in Archadia, the very place that brought me all my pain, would only make me worse.

But does he have to see the monument of his dead brother every time he gathers enough strength to leave his room?

The remains of the Bahamut tower outside Rabanastre as some "exciting memory" for the people of Dalmasca. For myself, however, it's a painful reminder that slaps me in the face every time I leave my small apartment atop an armor shop deep into the city. Since the incident with Vaan, I haven't seen him much. Penelo drops by often. Ashe, of course, can't be bothered to see me because of all the details she and Larsa have to iron out. I understand, of course. She's to be queen and I'd rather she not see me in this sorry state anyway. Unable to move, eat, drink, or wash simply over a heart that's been battered too many times to stitch itself back together.

Three times, a fist beats against my door. The knocks are loud and clear, but I don't answer. It's too late for visitors; it's pitch black outside. Three more knocks. I sigh, closing my eyes and praying that they'll leave me be. Unfortunately, this person seems to be the persistent type. Rather than continuing their polite knocks, they beat their fist against the door rapidly, nonstop. Are you joking? I huff, sitting up and throwing my blankets to the side before standing and hobbling to the next room where the front door is. They haven't stopped. Cursing under my breath, I tidy up my hair a touch and throw open the door. My heart stops at the sight of a sheepish smile.

"Hey, Shae. How's it going?" My hand burns after how hard my palm strikes his cheek, leaving behind a bright red mark. He looks shocked, bright blue eyes wide, unsure of my rage. "Well damn, okay, thought you'd be happier to see me." He holds up two bottles of madhu. "I brought us a little something."

"... Get inside."

Jonan nods obediently, stepping past me stiffly. Dozens of tight bandages cover his skin, and there are twice as many scars to go with them. He doesn't bend his left knee as he makes his way to the rough-cut wooden table, keeping it straight even when he sits, waiting expectantly. With trembling hands, I close and lock the door. I make my way to the seat across from him slowly, unsure if I've truly lost my mind.

"First of all, I'd like to know what that was for," Jonan starts, flashing a half-hearted smile as the handprint on his face begins to glow an angry bright red.

"I'm... not sure," I reply, carefully taking the glass bottle he offers me. "It was an instinct."

"Weren't expecting to see me?" I shake my head, watching him take a drink. The bottle hits the table with a dull thud and Jonan shrugs, chewing on his cheek. "I wasn't expecting to be here this late. I'm sorry about that."

"I wasn't going to sleep anyway," I mutter. He frowns, but there's something understanding about the look on his face. I finally muster up enough strength to take a drink. The familiar taste of madhu brings comfort for half a second—and then I remember Balfonheim, the Castean, the Bunansa brothers. I swallow quickly, trying to fend off my nausea with deep breaths. "How did you survive?"

"Where to begin?" Jonan leans back in his seat, running a hand through his fair hair. "You remember most of the conversation over the radio, right?" I nod. "The blast before we left the scene knocked Fran out. Balthier had to carry her out of the ship; he wouldn't let me do it, and that slowed us down quite a bit. I ran ahead and found an abandoned ship we could use to escape. She was battered, but she would still fly. I got in the cockpit and took off, assuming that they had gotten on since I heard some noises in the back." He swallows hard, staring at the table. "I crash-landed in the sea on my way to Balfonheim." Why were you headed so far away? "I was badly injured and I could hardly swim, but some sea pirates rescued me. I'd made one last round on the ship before swimming to the surface." He looks up at me, his eyes flooded with guilt. "They weren't there, Shae." I shake my head, playing with my bottle.

"I know they're gone," I reply, my voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper. "I've tried coming to terms with it, but I can't help but feel hope that they made it out." My breaths are shuddering, my body fighting tears it can't afford to shed. "I don't want to talk about them anymore."

"But—" He straightens so suddenly that his chair hits the floor sharply. I jump; he takes my hands. "There's always a chance, isn't there? He's so full of himself and his leading man charade, there's no way he'd just die."

"He was," I correct bitterly, pulling away from his touch. "How did you get here?"

"My ship was destroyed on the Bahamut, but I was able to take a commercial ship here. I found your location through Vaan and, well, here I am." He eyes me carefully, pursing his lips. "I know you won't appreciate my concern because I know you all too well, but I can't help asking. How are you doing, Shae?"

"I'm alive," I shrug.

"Barely." He stands, coming around the side of the table and kneeling before me to take my hands again. "You look starved. I've never seen someone look so exhausted." His hand brushes my cheek; I flinch. "What makes you think Balthier would want this for you?"

"I said I wouldn't talk about him!" I scream, leaping to my feet and shoving him to the floor. Breathless and panicked, I pull at the roots of my hair, pacing to the other side of the room.

"Shera—"

"Don't call me that!" I launch the nearest object at him, enraged. Penelo's vase bounces off his raised arms and shatters on the floor, broken bits of glass skittering across the ground. Unable to catch my breath, I slump against the rough clay wall and cross my arms. Slowly, Jonan climbs to his feet, taking a deep breath and gingerly walking toward me.

"I'm sorry, Shae. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not fragile," I snap, but my voice is weak and the tears pooling in my eyes are less than convincing.

"I know you're not," he replies quietly, stopping in front of me, hands tucked into his pockets. "You're the strongest person I know. But you're also broken. You need time to heal. You need help to heal." Offering his winning smile, he scratches at the back of his neck. "You've got plenty of people willing to be there. Just let them in the first time they knock, hm?"

I can't hold back the waterworks any longer; I throw my arms around his neck and spill tears into the rough material of his canvas shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. His arms are warm and sturdy, comforting in a place where nothing but stabbing pain reigns.

"I miss them," I whisper, shaking. "Fran and Balthier... I miss the snide comments and the teasing and the stupid secret looks they used to exchange..." I sniff, shaking my head. "I don't know how I'll make it this time. They were the ones that saved me after Dern."

"I know," he murmurs, tracing a circular pattern on my back. "I know..."

~Two Months Later~

I pace restlessly up and down the hallway, only further stressed as Jonan watches with crossed arms as if nothing's amiss. The doors are locked tightly; there's no way to speed this up. Why's this so hard? I should just throw my title about and demand that they speed it up before I have their heads lopped off. But... There's no respect for the runaway ruler of Archadia, no desire to keep the shamed sky pirate any longer than they must.

"Calm down," Jonan huffs after I make my fourteenth circle. "It won't make them come back quicker. I'm sure he's just busy."

"Too busy for me?" I snap. "I'd keep your mouth shut if you want to survive the flight back."

Before the young man can reply, the doors at the front of the hall are thrown open by the Imperial soldier than nearly turned us down at the door.

"Lord Larsa will see you now."

I hardly wait for him to finish speaking before sprinting out onto the stone balcony, dazzled by the bright colors and fresh smells of the gardens that grace Larsa's outdoor office space. Across the cobblestone floor stands my younger brother, looking happier than he has in a very long time. I drop to my knees and hug him tightly, crushing him against me.

"Miss!" bellows the soldier. Jonan shoves him out into the hall and slams the doors in his face.

"Fuck off, man," he scoffs, waiting for me at the door.

"I'm happy to see you," I murmur, letting the boy go. He beams, brushing his long hair behind his ear.

"I'm glad you're doing better, Sister," he says. I refuse to let my smile falter. "So much has happened since I last saw you."

"So I've heard," I nod, getting to my feet. "Your letters are practically nonsensical, you know. It all goes over my head."

"My apologies. I'll try to limit my words to lay terms," he replies smoothly, flashing a sly smile. I roll my eyes.

"Where's Basch?"

"Right here." I look up to see a towering figure dressed in heavy layers of steel armor. Two gloved hands reach up and pull off a horned helmet to reveal the gentle giant I was hoping to see. I laugh, shaking my head.

"How's my brother treating you? Do I need to beat him up for anything?"

"There's no need," he chuckles, glancing down at Larsa. "He's a bright young man. Noah was right to put his faith in the boy."

"I appreciate it," Larsa replies simply, heading over to his desk and sitting down. "The new Senate is almost in place. After that, I shall be elected the new Emperor of Archadia." He sighs, look up at me. "It's hard to believe, isn't it? Not much time has passed." He tugs at one of the fingers of his white gloves. "When is Lady Ashe's coronation?"

"A little less than a year from now." I cross my arms, throwing a hip out to the side and looking over at Basch. "We're all expected to attend as guests of honor, you know."

"So I've been told."

"She misses having you around," I add, shrugging. "You two seemed close."

"We are. However, our duties are across the map from each other," Basch says simply. "My purpose is here and hers lies in Dalmasca."

"Too bad," I shake my head before turning back to Larsa. "Now, down to real business. Why've I been called here?"

"Of course," Larsa nods. "I know you said you'd rather not be involved in this government in any way. However, I'm in need of one more Senator, and an intermittent one at that. You'd only have to show for meetings once, maybe twice a quarter, and perhaps emergency gatherings." He sighs, looking over at Basch. "I admit, it would be nice to see you around more often."

"..." I take a deep breath, shaking my head. "You know I can't do that, Larsa."

"But you can."

"No, I can't. I'm not fit for leadership, nor am I fit for traveling across Ivalice as often as I need to. A Senator should be based here where they can be contacted at a moment's notice. I appreciate the offer, but there's no need." I press my palms to his desk, leaning down to catch his eye. "I'll come around as often as you need me, but it will be as your sister, not as your imaginary superior."

"Of course," he nods, standing and placing his hands over mine. "I understand. Do me a favor, then."

"What is it?"

"Recover," he smiles. "Take time to let your mind refresh. I can tell when you're faking your happiness, dear sister." He looks past me to the door. "Jonan!"

"Yeah?"

"Take her back to Rabanastre and make sure she gets plenty of rest. You're needed elsewhere."

"That I am," Jonan laughs, looking at me. "Ready to go already?"

"Of course not," I scoff, looking back at Larsa as Balthier's words ring through my head. I told you, I enjoy the pleasantry of good food. "What's for dinner?"

~Four Months Later~

"You're being ridiculous!" I snap, glowering at Vaan. "If they're alive, why haven't they come to see us yet?"

"They have to be busy!" Vaan tries to reason with me, but I cut him off.

"No. Quit waving that note around in my face and get back to Penelo. Someone's stolen the Strahl and played a sick joke on you." I take a quick drink of madhu. "Open your eyes."

"No, you open your eyes!" Vaan shouts, slamming his hand on the table. Several patrons in the tavern turn to stare at us. "This is his handwriting! He says he and Fran are in Bervenia waiting for us!"

"Yeah? Go, then! Go there and get stolen away by some crazy bastards! Play the fool!" I stand up so abruptly that my chair hits the stone floor with an echoing clatter.

"He says he found treasure in the Cache of Glabados," Vaan reads off the leaflet of paper.

"It's all lies, don't you see it!?"

"But it's not!"

"But it is." I snatch the paper out of his hand and rip it to shreds, letting the bits of flutter to the floor as he watches, filled more anger than I knew him to be capable of. "Go chase your fairytales elsewhere," I hiss, snatching my bottle of madhu and storming out the door into the dimly lit streets of Rabanastre. He rushes to the doorway, yelling after me.

"Quit lying to yourself! This is the same thing you did with Dern!"

"Fuck off!" I call over my shoulder.

"What're you so afraid of!?"

"I'm not afraid," I snap, resisting the urge to beat him to a pulp when he runs up to my side. "I don't want you and Penelo chasing dreams only to be let down."

"Why don't you come with us?" he suggests, tugging at my sleeve. I elbow him away. "We'd have extra protection and you'd be able to see them again!"

"Leave me be, Vaan."

"Why won't you?" he demands. "You love him, don't you? Then go see him." I stop dead in my tracks, gaze falling to the rough sandstone street.

"Loved," I correct. "He and Fran are dead. If I believed otherwise, I'd be the first to go after them."

"Let us take you," Vaan pleads. "You're not doing anything anyway."

"I'm sorry, Vaan," I say coldly, continuing my walk home. "I don't chase rumors anymore."

"Fine!" he shouts, stomping his foot on the ground angrily. "When we see him, we'll let him know you were too busy screwing Jonan to visit!"

Vaan goes home with two black eyes that night.

~Four Months Later~

Vaan and Penelo never left. The ship they'd acquired had far too many problems for a trip that long, and so they'd been forced to stay grounded. Vaan and I haven't spoken on friendly terms since the night he dragged me out to a tavern to dig up the old hopes that I'd buried long ago. Since then, I've spent every day in the same state I was in the first month of grieving. I can't eat, I can't move, I can't speak. I sent Jonan on his way ages ago; I couldn't stand to see the helplessness in his eyes any longer.

Today, however, is different. It's Ashe's coronation, and I'm expected to be in perfect shape by noon. As if on cue, two light knocks come to the door. I call for the visitor to enter. Penelo skips into the room, her pigtails waving about as she flounces about with her arms covered in colorful drawings of flowers and crystals. Her clothes are brightly colored and silky, a perfect match for the girl. She carries a deep green dress as though it's a doll, draping it over a nearby chair and turning to me with a grin. Vaan comes into the apartment less than happily; I can't bring myself to be angry at him any longer.

"Ready?" Penelo asks, beaming. "You're going to look so pretty!"

"You're certain I can't wear something of my own?" I ask, frowning at the dress.

"Of course you can't, silly! Ashe specifically told me to get you into this thing."

"Of course she did," I huff, rolling my eyes.

"You'll look just like the princess you were meant to be," she teases, pulling me off my seat. "Go put it on and brush your hair so I can braid it."

I scoff, picking up the dress. Vaan offers a smile and I roll my eyes, nodding toward Penelo. His grin only grows. I head to my bedroom and shut the door behind me firmly. The mirror's been turned around since I moved in; I twist it to face me, frowning at my hollowed cheeks and bony joints. Let's hope Ashe sized this down. I unclasp the back of the simple item of clothing and pull my baggy clothes off before stepping in and pulling it up. The smooth green material is skin tight. The sleeves reach my wrists and the skirt nearly reaches the floor, cut with a slit up the left leg. My skin is cold where there's a large hole in the back that extends from my shoulder blades to the base of my spine. I scoff, staring at my reflection. At least I didn't lose too much in the important places.

I pull my hair out of its messy braid (one that I'm positive I did days ago; I don't have any concept of time anymore, truthfully) and run my fingers through it quickly before heading back out into the living room. Penelo cheers, shaking Vaan excitedly.

"It looks so good!"

"You're sure I don't look ridiculous?" I raise an eyebrow. Vaan shakes his head.

"No, you look good."

"Come on, let's go," Penelo gushes, turning me around and pushing me back to my room. "I've got something for your hair."

She forces me to sit in a seat in front of the mirror as she fixes my hair so that I don't look like I'm emerging from a cave for the first time in weeks. I'm lucky my mother's dark complexion was handed down to me, otherwise I'd look paler than Larsa and Vayne combined. The girl pulls a long golden chain from her pocket, weaving it along the braid as she goes. I exchange uncomfortable looks with Vaan, relieved to return to a semblance of normality. Finally, she steps back, proud of her work.

"Perfect."

"Thanks," I mutter, eyeing a glittering strand of gold that catches the light. I stand to move my chair back to the table when Vaan stops me.

"Wait. You weren't wearing that the last time I saw you."

"Pardon?"

"That ring. It's Balthier's, isn't it?" he asks, eyeing the newest addition to my collection of wearable tragedies.

"Yeah," I nod, uncomfortably meeting Penelo's gaze. "I figured it's about time since it's been a year and all."

"I'm glad," she smiles softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. "I wish he could see you today."

"Why's that?" I scoff, silently protesting when Vaan carries the chair back for me.

"Because," Penelo says as if I should already know. "If he thought you were pretty in your normal clothes, he should see you now!"

"Damn, you really are playing it up," I huff, shaking my head with a slight smile despite the stinging in my chest. She's really trying.

"Well it won't matter if we're late," Vaan points out, peering up at the sun through the window. "We should probably get over to the palace soon."

"Probably," I repeat reluctantly, pulling on the shoes Penelo forces into my hands and hurrying after them. "Why doesn't Vaan have to look nice?"

"Because he'd rather look like a dirty pirate," Penelo scoffs, shooting Vaan a disapproving look. He only grins back. "Besides, Ashe wanted you to wear that."

"To make sure she and Larsa look good," I reply, arching an eyebrow. "I'm the middleman between the two of them."

"I know, but it's just a dress and it's for, like, four hours."

"Yeah, Shae, it's just for four hours!"

"Careful," I snap at Vaan.

The ceremony seems to last an eternity. Ashe looks like an angel sent by the gods with her long, flowing white gown. Basch and Larsa stand to her left; for once, the knight's allowed to ditch the extensive armor. Penelo, Vaan, and I stand to her right, looking over the overwhelming crowd. Thousands of people watch from the ground, having traveled from all over Ivalice to see the crowning of the new queen of Dalmasca. Old men and women drone on and on about tradition and Dalmasca and Dynast-Kings; it all goes over my head. In Archades, we just kill everyone in our way and usurp the throne. No formalities, really. I blink out of my thoughts when the crowd erupts into cheers and Vaan starts to tug me down to join the swarms of people.

I suppose we left to see the official crowning from below. Ashe is positively beaming as she's proclaimed the ruler of Dalmasca at last. More excited screams and clapping burst from the people surrounding us. Vaan laughs as Penelo pulls him into a crushing hug.

"Shae, look!" I turn to see what Vaan's pointing at, but he and Penelo have vanished completely. What the...?

Frowning, I elbow my way through congratulating people, trying to spot two heads of blonde hair. There's nothing. Huffing, I turn back to the palace to see Ashe and Basch conversing. Of course they're being as polite as humanly possible. I roll my eyes, unfazed as people jostle me about. Where'd those two brats go? In the midst of all the physical contact, I'm not entirely bothered when I feel something brush my waist. At least, not until the touch doesn't leave; rather, it holds me in place as someone pulls me back into them. I grip the hands at my hips, prepared to kick a creep's ass.

"You know, it would have been kind to let the queen be the most stunning woman at her own coronation." My breath catches in my throat and my grip tightens. There's no way... "Then again, I never knew you to be the considerate type." I swivel around quickly, feeling my heart skip multiple beats. This is a joke. I reach up gingerly, tracing a finger down his cheek to make sure he's truly there. I'm dreaming. He arches an eyebrow, cracking half a smug smile. "You alright, Princess?" Lost for words, I pull him close and bury my face in the crook his neck.

Motor oil and sandalwood. He's real.

"Damn," Balthier chuckles, pulling away long before I'm ready to. "Penelo said you hadn't been eating, but I wasn't expecting you to be that sharp."

"You've spoken to Penelo?" I ask in disbelief. He rests his hands on his hips, elbowing a few people by accident.

"Yes. I met up with her and Vaan at the Sandsea last night."

"What?" My heart sinks.

"Don't give me that look," he chastises. "I have a surprise for you."

"This wasn't it?" I scoff, hands shaking when I move to tuck my hair behind my ear. I look past him, frowning. "Where's Fran?"

"She, unfortunately, had some business with the viera to take care of," he replies, watching me nod. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"What did you expect!" I snap, but it's out of excitement, not anger. "You've been dead for a year!"

"Not quite," he laughs, turning to lead the way out of the crowd. Careful not to lose him, I take hold of his elbow, clinging tightly until we're onto the road. "Fran and I spent quite some time recovering, and after that, we found some treasure." He shoots me an amused glance. "Vaan tells me you beat him up for showing you my note."

"I thought it was a sick joke," I mutter, wincing when my stomach growls at the smell of the food street vendors are starting to set out. I feel dazed, as if everything's moving in slow motion around us. I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that this is real.

"So I heard." Balthier steps around a group of playing children, sighing when I nearly trip over a little girl. "Watch your step, Shera."

"Shera?!"

"Is that Lady Shera?!"

"It has to be! She looks like Lord Larsa!"

"Godammit, Balthier," I hiss, pressing myself closer to his side. "Look what you've done. We agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore."

"I can't help myself," he replies simply.

"You'd better learn," I huff, eyeing the group of people that begun to stare.

"For the record," he mutters, lowering his head to my ear. "You don't look like Lord Larsa."

"I'm aware," I laugh, shoving his face away. "Where are we headed?"

"You can't tell after living here so long?"

"I can't see through people, Balthier."

"Well, then this will be more of a surprise than you bargained for." Balthier nods to a man who calls his name from a stand, though he keeps moving, clearly not wanting to linger and catch up. The towering viera in front of me finally turns left and I realize that we're heading into the aerodrome. The woman at the front desk lets Balthier pass without a second glance. He pulls me to the right and down a corridor where the landing strips are.

"Are you planning to kidnap another princess?" I scoff, teasing. He hums, glancing down at me.

"I'd hardly have to kidnap you to rescue you from this dump. Damsel in distress and all, hm?"

"I'm not—!"

"Now," he cuts me off, pulling away from me to block my view. "Close your eyes."

"You're joking," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not," he reassures me. "Close them."

"Fine, fine," I huff, deciding to play along with his silly little game. There's a long silence; I can tell he's still here. "Bal—" I'm cut off by a quick kiss. "What the hell?"

"My apologies," Balthier chuckles, walking away. "I couldn't help myself."

"Mhm. How much longer?"

"Just a moment."

I hear the click of a switch and the sound of the door leading to the airstrip raising. Quick steps return to my side as wind begins to pull at the fabric of Ashe's gracious donation. I jump when a hand touches my back. Balthier sighs, using his other hand to cover my eyes.

"Relax; I don't bite."

"I don't trust you," I mutter, taking slow steps forward at his prodding. "You plan to throw me to my death, then?"

"What sort of a man do you think I am?" Balthier retorts. I can just see the mocking expression on his face.

"One who can't help himself, apparently."

"I'm trying my best." He pulls me to a stop, lowering his head down beside mine. "Now, Jonan, Fran, and I spent a lot of time on this—it's why I couldn't see you sooner."

"What are you talking about?" I pause. "Jonan knew you were alive?!"

"You'll see. Open up, Princess."

"Excuse me?"

"Your eyes, darling. We'll worry about the rest later."

"Whore," I huff, pulling his hand away from my eyes and wincing when the sunlight nearly blinds me. I blink away the pain, gasping upon seeing something I thought was a creation of the past. Before me looms the Castean, fully repaired and prepared for the skies. Her outer shell gleams with the bright coloration Dern originally picked out for her, her engines are updated, and her windows are no longer shattered.

"I must say, I was impressed by her inner workings. You and Adamar made quite the team."

"It was all him," I say in a hushed voice, brushing my fingers over the ship's smooth surface.

"Nonsense," Balthier retorts. "I saw your designs."

"Designs?" I start to head to the front of the ship, feeling all her grooves and edges. She's perfect. My face grows hot when I realize where he would have found those.

"Yes, on the sketchpad in your cabin? There were some rather... interesting pieces to accompany the models, I must say."

"Gods, Balthier," I cringe, trying to wipe away my memories of those sketches. I peer up at the Castean's folded wings, spying the glimmer of glowing skystones. I crack a smile; he kept the original jagd stones that Dern invented. "You kept the prototypes in." There's no response. "Balthier?"

Nothing but the silence I've heard for the past year.

"Balthier?!" I hurry back around to the other side of the ship and see nothing. My heart pounds relentlessly; I can't breathe. He couldn't have left me already...? "Balthier!"

"I'm right here; calm down." Balthier calls, coming around the corner of the aerodrome and reentering the airstrip.

"You gave me a heart attack!"

"Thought I'd left you again?" he teases, brushing my hair out of my face. In his other hand, I see something odd.

"What's that?"

"Another piece of the puzzle, of course," he replies, holding up Dern's spear, repaired as if nothing ever happened. "Good as new, hm?"

"What the shit is going on?" I laugh, taking the weapon from his hands. "It's not like you to shower me with gifts, Ffamran."

"I'm only returning your belongings."

I roll my eyes, pulling him down by his collar and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

"And here's your reward, Leading Man."

"Hm," he hums, allowing a slight smile. It falls rather quickly. "No need to panic, Shae, but I've another matter to attend. I'll return to you this evening."

"Where are you going?" I frown.

"To take care of some simple business. Vaan showed me where you're staying; I'll find you when I'm done."

"Promise?"

"Of course." He steps away, looking back over his shoulder as he leaves. "I swore I'd survive, didn't I?"

"Not quite," I scoff, resisting the overwhelming urge to chase after him and beg him to let me come with. That way it doesn't feel like I imagined it all. He's alive. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and shake my head. I'll need to kick Jonan's ass next time I see him. The door at the end of the hangar slams shut and I shiver, goosebumps rippling across my skin.

I never knew how much I feared loneliness until I lost him.

It's long past midnight by the time I stop pacing back and forth with my hands clasped behind my back. He's not coming back, I decide, feeling all my heightened hopes and lifted spirits sink through the floor. Trying to numb myself by feigning apathy, I switch off the dim lights on my walls and flop into my bed. It's all too easy to roll up into my blankets and pretend that I was only just asleep, that the butterflies, the adrenaline, and the warmth were all memories from the past. That the feeling I can only describe as love isn't real.

It's long past the point when I drifted off to sleep when a series of thuds and thumps rudely slaps me awake. Startled, I sit up abruptly, flicking on the lamp beside my head and gripping the dagger I hide under my pillow. Immediately, I relax. Sprawled on the floor is Balthier, who glowers at the dresser that's collapsed beside him. With a sour expression, he looks up at me.

"It felt much sturdier before I stood on it."

"It's missing a leg," I laugh, pulling back my blankets to shut the window. He shakes his head, waving me back to bed as he stands and heads toward the sliding pane of glass. "Why'd you come through there? The door's unlocked."

"I figured this might be quicker," he replies distantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I was ready to stab you!"

"How was I to know that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Mistakes were made; do me a favor and don't mention them to anyone, Fran especially."

"It all depends," I shrug. I let go of the dagger and cross my legs, watching him as he looks around my rather bare bedroom. "I may need blackmail someday."

"Who doesn't?" he mutters. "What in Ivalice are you doing living in this dump?"

"I didn't exactly have anywhere else to go," I remind him. "You've only just repaired my home."

"Saved you again, then," he teases.

"I didn't exactly make an effort to make it look better," I sigh, playing with my hair. "All I've done here is lay in bed all day."

"Feeling lazy?"

"Depressed is more like it," I scoff with a sarcastic laugh, hugging my knees to my chest. Balthier frowns, but he continues his observations. "I couldn't eat or really sleep for that long. It took far too much energy to leave at any point. The few times I have left were to visit Larsa and Basch or to speak with Vaan, and even that was just in the tavern down the road."

"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?" he murmurs, tearing his eyes away from the tall mirror and looking at me. I shrug, suddenly feeling anxious. He probably doesn't see me the same way. The sky pirate sighs. "I'm assuming Jonan flew you to Archades?"

"Yes," I nod, tracing the faint pattern on my crimson sheets with my finger. "He dragged me to see the Phon Coast a few times, too. It's where he grew up, after all. I only wanted him to be happy."

"... I see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I frown, looking up at him. He shakes his head, glancing down at the bed.

"And he stayed here?"

"Oh." I straighten, catching his gaze. "He always stayed on the couch; he wasn't allowed in here, ever. For the first time in a while, nothing happened between us. I really think he's changed, or at least understood his wrongs."

"That's a relief," he replies, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.

"Jealous, are we?" I tease, cocking my head to the side. "It's too bad that I had to find comfort in the arms of another man." Balthier arches an eyebrow in response. "All you had to do was show your face for a moment in time. But no, you stayed back to work on your surprises and Jonan got to spend more time with me."

"To be frank, Jonan was spending time with you because he was shirking his duties with me," he says, looking the slightest bit annoyed. I get the feeling his irritation isn't directed at me. "I sensed a bit of truth in your little ramble there, Princess."

"I may be a little bitter," I admit with half a smile.

"Well, if it's too much to see my face, I can always make my exit."

"Don't be an ass."

"I can't—"

"Help it, I know," I sigh, falling back onto my pillow. "Are you going to stand there staring at me all night?"

"I wouldn't find it difficult," he shrugs. I roll my eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's late and I'm tired," I announce. He chuckles, kicking off his shoes.

"Of course, Your Majesty. Shall I join you?"

"Don't be—"

"An ass," he finishes, clearly mocking me.

"Balthier—"

"I'm going at my own pace, thank you."

"What are you doing?" I sit up impatiently, watching him fiddle with the back of his vest. "Do you need help with that?"

"Of course not, I do this every night," he reminds me, finally managing to pull it free. Then why's it taking so long now? He starts toward the bed and I hold up a hand.

"Absolutely not. Take thing off," I demand, referring to his shirt. "It makes me too warm."

"Alright." He obeys, his lips gracing the slightest bit of a smile. Several scars I've never seen before litter his skin; I tear my eyes away. "Better?"

"Better," I nod, pulling up the blankets on the other side of the bed and switching the light off as the other side of the mattress sinks under his weight. I turn to face Balthier, pulling the sheets up to my chin. Only the slightest light of the moon slips in through my window, illuminating the room the tiniest bit. Balthier raises an eyebrow upon noticing my expectant stare.

"Yes?"

"Be completely, brutally honest," I say in a low voice, watching his expression for change earnestly. "Did you miss this at all?"

"Did I...?" he repeats, narrowing his eyes as he processes an answer. "I suppose so." His lips lift into a gentle smile and he props his head up with one arm. "I missed this. I won't miss it, however, when in your sleep you kick at me like an angry chocobo and steal all the sheets away."

"And I won't miss it when you try to wrestle me while I'm trying to cool off," I counter, eliciting a chuckle.

"You're my only source of warmth if you take the blankets away, Highness."

"You got me there," I sigh, reaching forward and tracing my finger over a new, healed gash across his collarbone. "And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"Did you miss me?"

"Hard to be honest with the threat of a knife at your disposal," he teases, pushing a long strand of hair away from my face. "Every day, Shera, though I hate to admit it. There were many times when I was ready to throw away my work and hunt you down, but Fran talked me out of it. It made sense, of course. Neither of us was ready to be put back together after how long it took me and Fran to recover." I doubt it... I would have taken you at any second of any day. His words leave me feeling warm as if I've chugged down two or three bottles of madhu. At least I wasn't some past irritation that relentlessly begged him to return and settle his guilty conscience.

"Good," I grin, tapping the tip of his nose. His forehead creases when he raises both eyebrows.

"You really are tired."

"I haven't had a good night's sleep in months," I sigh, adjusting my head on the pillow. Gods, I really am helpless. "One more question."

"You need—"

"No," I cut him off, pressing a hand to his chest. His heartbeat is strong, perhaps a little fast. I fight a smile. He knows what's coming. I'm terribly anxious; this is always the hard part. Dern sparked up the issue last time I had this conversation. Now, it's my turn. I swallow hard to help my throat. "Do you... believe in love, Balthier?" There it is, that little, almost painful flutter of his pounding heart against my hand. The subconscious reaction is answer enough, but I wait for his words expectantly.

"..." It's unlike him to hesitate. My smile begins to falter. Perhaps I read him wrong. Perhaps this was the wrong time. Perhaps he really is only here to help him quell some guilt. "I didn't for a long time," he starts, speaking as if he's unsure of the words leaving his mouth. I'm really pushing his boundaries. "And yet here I am." He huffs a gentle laugh, finally meeting my eyes. "Falling harder than the Bahamut for a confused runaway princess."

"Confused," I scoff, though I'm smiling, relieved. I knew it. "Okay, I lied. One more."

"You're enjoying this far too much," he huffs, his pride bruised.

"It's not every day that I can get you to open up," I admonish him. "I know it's cheesy, I just... want to know when you knew." Thankfully, my words need no more explanation. I'm not exactly comfortable with these sorts of conversations.

"I suppose it was after you admitted to your identity," he sighs. "I didn't want to admit it, but you'd caught my attention in Nalbina and I couldn't help but pursue the interest."

"Damn," I mutter, stifling a laugh. "I wasn't expecting yours to be before mine."

"I can't say I'm surprised," he admits, taking one of my hands and eyeing the ring that once was his. "How about you, Shera?"

"It was the night after we'd saved Jonan from the Imperials," I recall, watching the band turn round and round my finger. "It hit me like a wall and afterward, I was determined to end it between us. I suppose I never got around to it."

"I'm glad you didn't," he scoffs. "You had every right to fear after Adamar, I'll give you that."

"I'm glad I didn't, too," I huff, shuddering when his cold hand touches my side. "This is getting far too cheesy for my taste."

"Agreed." He shifts closer, stretching out an arm that I rest my head on. "I did have a proposal, though."

"Yeah?"

"See, Fran's off on her own business for now, and from her description, it should be a long while until she's done." He pauses, waiting for any sort of preemptive response. "I thought we might spend some time on that ship of yours, searching for riches and such. The bounty on your head is far too low for my taste."

"Ah, I see," I retort wryly. "I'm not up to your standards quite yet."

"Exactly," he laughs softly. "What do you say, Princess?"

"I say I'd rather do that than spend another year in this damn hellhole."

"That's good enough for me." He lifts my face gingerly with his finger and presses his lips to mine. My hand finds the side of his face, pulling him closer. With a slight, humored huff, he pulls away, resting his back against the pillow. "Well, I suppose we should get our rest if we're to leave tomorrow morning."

"Morning?" I repeat. "What about the others? Shouldn't we let them know?"

"Of course not," he replies simply. "The best sort of disappearance is an unexpected one."

"How could I forget?" I turn over onto my other side, rolling my eyes what he throws an arm over my body and pulls me closer to his chest. I can't wait to steal your blankets. I push my head further into the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, praying that when I wake up, he's still here.

Praying that throughout all the years, fights, and adventures to come, we'll never fail to find our way back to each other.

~FIN~

THAT'S A WRAP, MY FRIENDS! THANKS FOR HANGING OUT FOR THIS ROLLERCOASTER WRECK OF A FIC.

I JUST STARTED A FF13 STORY IF YOU'RE INTERESTED, AND IF NOT, I HAVE PLENTY OF OTHER FICS FOR FINAL FANTASY THAT YOU COULD CHECK OUT IF YOU'RE IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD ;)

JUST, Y'KNOW, A SHAMELESS SELF PLUG.

ALSO, I'M VERY SAD THAT THIS IS OVER AND I'M COPING WITH A BAG OF POPCORN.

UNTIL NEXT TIME!