What you do with these chapters to make sense of them is go 'Balthier can (insert chapter title)' and there you go!

Alternately you can go 'Balthier can do ANYHING!!!!!!!!' if like me you are a screaming fangirl

As Balthier manoeuvres the Strahl to land on the Ridorana Cataract through some turbulent winds, Ashe hunches over in the back seat clutching her stomach as a pained groan escapes her lips, tender from being anxiously bitten all morning.

'Hey Ashe are you alright?' Vaan asks uncertainly, not keen on having to sit next to a chronically motion-sick person even if they are royalty. She feels a cold sweat break out all over her skin and an acidic taste burns in her mouth; just about managing to shake her head weakly at Vaan he proceeds to tap Penelo lightly on the shoulder,

'What is it?' she asks, but seeing Ashe's sorry state understands and tries to inform the others, 'Um…guys?' she is drowned out by the wind and engines, so she raises her voice a fraction, 'Ashe doesn't feel so good…' she continues to be ignored as Ashe's head pounds and her hands start to shake,

'HEY!' Vaan yells irritably, which is fair enough considering he is the one who has to sit next to her and any bodily fluids she reproduces. Fran's head snaps around while Balthier's remains steadily trained on the approaching land, and seeing the nauseous princess stands up from her seat and very gingerly leads Ashe towards the front of the ship and the windows,

'Keep your eyes on the land,' she coos, 'take deep breaths…'

'Fran what's wrong with her?' Balthier snaps through his concentration,

'Your poor skills as a pilot have left her ill,' she retorts as she runs her hand soothingly through Ashe's hair,

It's been cut.

Fran notices,

There is only one person on this ship who does that…

'Thank you for Fran.' He mutters condescendingly, frowning out of the windows at the swaying horizon, with a smile she notices the tip of his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth in an effort to focus. Understanding more than anybody how little Balthier reads into cutting a woman's hair, (and remembering how severely she mistook his 'intentions' the first time he offered to it for her), she still cannot help thinking him suspect to some ulterior motives with Ashe, having caught him staring at her with that particular gaze of his on one more than one occasion; she knows better than to question him during suck a tricky landing and waits instead until they reach the land, coaxing a shaky Ashe along to safety by her hands. The moment the princesses feet touch solid ground they crumble underneath her, she collapses onto her knees gasping heavily and burying her face in her hands, ruing the day she ever boarded an airship,

But it appears that the way to get seating privileges on the Strahl is to be sick, not kiss the pilot…

She thinks to herself ironically as the sun begins to warm the icy perspiration off her skin, her strength and pride beginning to circulate her system once again; Fran stands by her partner and they make casual small-talk as she recuperates,

'That's a nice haircut she has isn't it?' she comments; he understands her drift and detects the intonation in her voice,

'She was treating it so roughly, that I had half a mind to cut it all off…' he light-heartedly replies,

'So what were the other half's thoughts?' she quickly counters, knowing that he is dodging her question…which tells her more than a truthful answer would,

'It's much less trouble than yours…' he teases as he twirls one of her snowy curls around his finger,

'Very well.' She concludes irritably, 'if want to tell me that way…' she flicks her head and hair out of his grasp, then her heels click sharply against the stones as she strides away from him along the path,

'Fran! You know you're the only woman for me!' he cries flamboyantly after her. Ashe suddenly glances up at him through her fingers, which he notices and laughs gently, 'in a completely unromantic fashion of course, Princess…so don't fret your pretty little haircut about it' he says to her playfully, and she feels her cheeks burn behind her palms again.

He's just teasing me, it means nothing.

She tries to convince herself as they begin the ascent of the Pharos at Ridorana, but tense memories of their brief kiss the night before keep replaying themselves in her mind, exciting the princess in her that squeals at the thought of the affections of such a charming and desirable man (with the added factor of being forbidden, which tends to be an encouragement rather than a deterrent in most cases).

You are going to be queen, are the fleeting fancies of a pirate worth that?

She tells herself they are not. As they tackle one of the hardest obstacles of the Pharos, the stairs. By the time they have reached the second ascent every party member's legs are on fire, then the pain fades to the sensation of dragging two bags of sand up the endless flights as they relent to resting on one of the many platforms from sheer fatigue, luckily it was free of any fiends for the time being. Ashe collapses onto the floor and swallows remedies in hopes of retrieving some of the feeling in her legs. Lain slumped against the wall of the suspended platform she feels like even if she wanted to move she couldn't, and she observes her comrades, (also her friends, she realizes) as they each rest and unwind in their individual ways; Vaan naps on Penelo's shoulder as she tightens her braids, Basch aimlessly sharpens his axe and Balthier, she notices, is curled over a scrap of metal they looted from a Deidan, twirling a small tool around his fingers she sees him pressing it into whatever he is concealing with a determined expression, as he pores himself deeper into the secret pooled in his palms her curiosity is spiked,

'What is that Balthier? She questions innocently, and he suddenly recoils, unaware that he was being watched,

'Why it's nothing, Ashe' he replies hurriedly while burying it in his fists, 'and shouldn't we be pressing on? The stairs are still there whether we rest an hour or a day,' Vaan groans as his friend nudges him awake and they begin to climb the next exhausting flight; Ashe attempts to catch a glance at what Balthier is hiding from her, but with no avail. When they reach the third ascent the ink returns to their maps and it is decided where they will camp for the night,

'We will have to guard on shifts,' Reddas informs everyone, and seeing the crestfallen faces of the younger members of the party volunteers to take the first so they may sleep, Ashe ends up with the stretch in the very dead of the night, but she has no complaints as the most threatening places are often overcome with beautiful serenity at this time; she loves to sit in the quiet and order her thoughts in these bubbles of clarity that arise in the dark broth of her journey.

The decision is mine, to destroy or to harness the power of the sun-cryst…

Before she moves to lie down Ashe's thoughts are detached from her impending decision when she notices Balthier pulling a small crafted blade from the pouches about his waist, and rolling that fine pole between his fingers again, she wants desperately to leap to her feet and catch what he is doing but tiredness overcomes her desires for such things and sleep carries her to the dreams of her subconscious before she can discover his guarded secret.

Tonight Ashe dreams of Rabanastre and her wedding day, a dream she has had many times since and before she even met Rassler, she dreams of the fanfares and cheering as she should…but then looking into her beloved's eyes as they are pronounced man and wife this dream is altered, in the place where Rassler should stand there is nothing but the empty sky, she is deserted by the one man she thought she could trust when suddenly a flash catches the corner of her eye and she is drawn to witness the Strahl cutting across the skies in the vacancy left by her supposed betrothed, 'you're a pirate aren't you? Then steal me…'

She wakes to what she assumes is another dream, disbelieving it to be the true Pharos because although the surroundings fit and she appears where she lay down to sleep, music pipes in her ears as she wakes to this secondary dream,

What bizarre messages does this next fantasy contain?

She asks herself; the music continues despite her rising and scraping her elbow roughly across the wall, the pain feeling real enough she rubs her eyes in confusion and mutters a curse at the stinging sensation that worsens as she presses her hand across the sore graze. It is now that Ashe realizes whose shift this is…and the consequential cause of the playing as the player is sat on the steps with his back turned to her. She stealthily creeps up behind Balthier and sees that he holds a small pipe to his lips,

So that's what he was hiding all day,

His fingers flutter over the holes of the salvaged instrument dextrously as it sings a beautiful and merry tune to the gentle tapping of his foot against the step; he rests his forearms on his knees as his fingertips dance across the metal and his back rises and falls as he times his breath into the song, the notes echo harmoniously off the cavern walls until he is his own soloist and accompaniment. The tune he is playing is very obviously a dance, and she guesses a jig from its lively pace, as the melody hops and whirls she steals closer to the source of this beautiful music (also its beautiful musician), and she sees that his eyes are closed, once again he is totally unaware of her watching him; his head bobs along with the tune and his lips part slightly with every slight intake of breath as she smiles and she sits down a step up from him, resting her head in her hands and listening to his wonderful skill. Unwittingly knocking a small stone off the step with her toes, it clatters noisily in interruption to his concert; his eye opens a crack and he glances at her derisively without stopping, but sighs and picks up the tempo, it flies along jovially and finishes with a rousing flurry of notes that astound Ashe with the required talent to perform such a piece, his fingers skip autonomously across the piping as he sounds the last bars of the song and pulls the whistle gently away from his lips,

'Should I not be charging you for this privilege, Princess?' he asks in his perfectly tuned voice as he rests the carved mouthpiece against his chin,

'You could say that something of such beauty can only be stolen…' she replies softly, tucking her fingers between her knees to keep them warm, he bows his head in thanks and holds up the instrument in the dim light for her to see,

'A remarkably crude model,' he comments, 'you should hear me on a real feadóg stáin,' she smiles at him sweetly,

'I'm sure it is even more worthy of waking up for in the middle of the night…' she flatters, and he returns the smile, not one of his atypical smug grins but a genuinely pleased smile as he gestures for her to join him on the next step down,

'Did I wake you?' he says; secretly pleased that it was her he roused instead of any of the other party members,

'Yes…but no matter,' she realizes that is a phrase she has coined from him, and feels reluctant to admit how largely his words and advice have affected her over the journey, 'where did you learn to play?' she quickly changes the subject onwards, not wishing to dally in this place any longer,

'As a child,' he says nostalgically, 'it was rather fashionable among the Arcadian nobility to have musical children perform like monkeys whenever they decided to throw dinner parties…' she hears the bitterness in his voice so attempts again to lighten the topic,

'I was once forced into music lessons…' she reminisces to him, 'to keep me out of my brothers' way when they were learning how to play at war,' he turns to her in interest, delighting to find out little facts about her life he feels she would not share with just anybody,

'Did the young Princess show any musical prowess?' he questions amiably, spinning the pipe idly in-between his fingers,

'None whatsoever.' She replies with a grin, 'eventually they relented and let me take combat lessons instead,'

'I fear you are emasculating me, Ashe' he titters, 'I should not like to become the woman of our relationship…' he suddenly fears he's overstepped the line by naming the two of them as a relationship, and he pauses in anticipation of being curtly corrected but she twists on her toes on the step to face him,

'Perhaps you need to assert your dominance on me then?' she teases, releasing a heavy breath that drags her closer towards him, the pipe falls from his fingers and bounces piercingly on each step it collides with as he swiftly brings his hand up to her chin and tilts her lips up to his, holding her a single breath away from a kiss as he whispers,

'Dominate you? I fear I may only try…' he draws her lips onto his and brushes them together warily at first, then again and more powerfully as the notes of the tune start to replay deviously in Ashe's mind as his hand rubs around her neck; his lips strain intensely against hers and on this occasion he makes no effort to break away, showing her exactly how dominating he can be as he lays possessive claim to her lips and everything he can find within them. But they are suddenly both drawn from the embrace by a loud and painful squeak, peering through the darkness the see the dim outline of a Chimera at the bottom of the steps, with the end of Balthier's pipe sticking out of its beak, 'why you saucy creature!' he cries, grabbing his gun from the steps on the other side of him and expertly cocking and aiming the pistol at the thieving bird, 'I put a lot of effort into that,' he fires the shot and the Chimera recoils backwards, rolling head over heels then scurrying off still emitting a very grating whistling noise from its smoking beak,

'Was that necessary?' she asks as he weaves his fingers through his own, but when she leans into him with intent to continue their little rapport, he presses a finger to her lips and stands up, signalling that she remains hidden here as he makes his way up the steps and confronts their stirring companions,

'No worry, I simply made sure that that fiend doesn't come back this way for a good few days,' he explains brightly to the drowsy people he shook from unconsciousness,

'Whose turn is it?' mumbles Vaan through his hands as he kneads them across his face, Ashe is aware that it is probably hers judging by the dawn creeping over the horizon, which is fortunate enough seeing as she is already awake and would be unlikely to sleep after this escapade,

'Oh,' says Balthier very matter-of-factly, 'still mine of course…' when everyone begins to settle again she grabs his legs and pulls them from underneath him, causing him to tumble roughly onto the steps in a manner that slightly confuses a half-awake Fran watching him falling down the stairs in such an odd way.

I will most likely find out what that is in the morning anyway…

She decides before she going back to sleep; whereas on the steps Balthier lies wide-awake on his back with the wind knocked out of him after being so roughly tackled by Ashe,

'I'm…never…playing…for you…again.' He manages to croak as he gasps for air, she traces her finger along his hairline gently,

'I'm sure you will…' she whispers seductively.