Air Wave

IV : golden leaf

"Did you get invited?" Asked a man, clear that he was hoping his friend didn't get the invitation.

"What are you talking about? Everyone was invited, fool. I mean, the whole Nalbina! Geez, stop daydreaming will ya?"

Two long bunny ears, tinged with black speckles at the tips, moved gracefully towards the source of the voice and absorbed every detail flowing liberally in the air. The Viera cocked her head to the side as she turned her head ever so slowly, before fixing her gaze on two men near the corner of the café. She blinked.

"Did you hear that?" She asked her partner across from her, one brow raised.

The brown haired man, who in the past ten minutes had been sipping his daily morning coffee in such a perfect poise, was now looking at her in the eye. Balthier scowled and dumbly asked, "What?"

A small smirk tugged to her lips. Looking at him like this was one of her favorite things. She leaned forward, some free white bangs brushing her crimson alert eyes. "Call me an eavesdropper, but I think I just got interesting news." She smiled and leaned back into her chair, satisfied seeing her partner in a stupefied mode.

"Fran, Fran…" Balthier rubbed at his chin observing her features. "You're being a naughty bunny today, aren't you?"

"I'd say my ears are naughty, and out of control." She retorted back. It was clear that she didn't want to lose this sarcastic game, not after this gunman had won so many rounds in the past. Where did this witty, self-proclaimed leading man learn all those rhetorical counters?

With a discontented expression glued on his face Balthier had to give in; he crossed his arms over his chest and readied his ears to welcome whatever Fran had gotten. "What is it? Be short and lucid."

Fran let out a soft chuckle at the words 'short and lucid'. Waving a hand in the air, the crimson eyed woman rested her chin on the palm of her other hand, smiling. Her smile, which might look too flat and insignificant in people's eyes, seemed so victorious in his. And he remembered how he'd loved it so much before, when this Viera hardly showed any emotion through her body language.

"Well," she began, "I'm always lucid and short, Balthier. Anyways, this is about an invitation, I heard. And that the whole Nalbina was invited. I don't really understand, but that's all I got." She shrugged nonchalantly while her partner whistled in joy, something he always did whenever a big treasure being displayed under his nose.

"Hey Fran, don't you know it's a very valuable news?"

"I figured."

Balthier jerked his head up when a presence stood beside their table. His expression softened once he recognized whom this profile belonged to. With a wide grin the gunman saluted the bartender, "Hello Dave, nice to see you again."

The old man nodded enthusiastically as he placed a plate of aromatic loaves on the table. "Nice to see you too, again, uhm…" Dave scratched his ear awkwardly, squinting, trying to grasp the name that was staying at the back of his head. He had no idea how on earth his memory capacity could be so messed up like this.

"Uhm…" He trailed off.

"Balthier," the gunman finally said, feeling pity towards the bartender. It must be hard to have a bad memory. "I'm Balthier." He added a smile, as if assuring him it was perfectly fine to forget his name. Well, he really didn't mind, though. It was not the first time someone forgot his name, in fact, many people did. Was it because his name was just too hard (weird) to remember? Or was it because he wasn't heroic enough?

Damn. He really should stop thinking about that.

"So, my eavesdropper got an interesting news, she—"

His words drowned into an ocean of silence when Fran turned her head, shooting him a glare that cast him dumbfounded and at the same time, rather frightened. He moved a little while his inner mind flinched backwards. Fran was still having her eyes narrowed, in the most intimidating way she could think of. "I am not your eavesdropper, sky pirate. I don't recall you buying me from a store called Eruyt Village."

He knew she wasn't in the mood and it would be reckless if he offended this woman more—well, he didn't mean to, though. And he didn't know whether it could be called as an offence or not, because he was only joking. But then again, he forgot the fact that this Viera lacked the sense of humor, somehow. Absurdly, he felt obligated to bring it to her, although maybe just a little.

With an awkward move Bathier drew a hand up to scratch the back of his ear. "Eh, I didn't mean that way, Fran. I was only joking—you know I like doing that. Haven't these years taught you something? I—" He stopped. And he wrinkled his nose, suspicion surfacing onto the outer layer of his eyes. "…Wait, don't tell me you have PM—" He stopped again, and both Fran and Dave were looking at him intently, waiting for him to continue.

"…I mean, nothing." Balthier finally said, turning his head away to avoid their penetrating gazes. Sweet heaven, he didn't even know if Viera had uh, menst—

Dave laughed all of sudden that Fran had to break her gaze, while Balthier slowly fixed his eyes on the bartender. He squinted just as the old man began to speak, tapping the Viera's shoulder lightly as if she was his daughter or something. "Oh c'mon, c'mon, don't be ridiculous… Stop fighting you two, will ya? It's ok young lady, this guy didn't mean to offend you, I'm sure about that." He laughed again.

And Balthier really didn't have a clue whether Fran felt honored or insulted at the word 'young lady'. Well, his reminder said she wasn't twenties but a lot more than that. Trying to make the atmosphere less uncomfortable, he straightened his position and relaxed a bit. "So Dave, we got this interesting news. About invitation. Do you know anything about it? Did someone super wealthy decide to celebrate her sweet sixteen or something?" He inquired.

Dave's face suddenly looked bright. "Ah! That invitation! I know, it's spreading so fast, like wind!" He bent a little; dim lights of the café spraying kaleidoscopic gleams across his wrinkled old face, making it look more real and full of spirit than usual. "You know, Queen Ashe from Rabanastre will throw a big party to celebrate their restoration! And almost everyone is invited to join—despite of course, our current condition. You know, if you're sick or too old or lazy to—"

"Pardon me? Queen…Ashe?" Fran cocked her head to the side.

"Yes! Queen Ashe the ruler of Dalmasca, don't you know about her? She's quite popular here, amongst us. She…"

Fran ignored the bartender. She looked directly at Balthier.

The gunman was staring blankly at his feet.

Her paces echoed throughout the alley as every second ticked away. "Vaan! VAAN! VA—"

A blonde head popped out behind a door, looking rather irked. "Penelo, I heard you. You don't have to shout like that, y'know."

"Vaan!" The girl grinned widely, standing before her friend while trying to catch her breath. The run here was quite frustrating, especially when the boy she was calling for refused to answer even if he heard those noisy shouts, which practically inevitable. "Vaan! Oh my God! Do you know what those men just told me? Do you know what Ashe is up to now?"

Vaan was looking around, trying to figure out where and who these 'men' Penelo was talking about were. But there was no sign of any nearby, and he began to wonder whether or not this blonde girl was fantasizing. "Uhm Penelo, sorry, but I don't see any man—"

"Idiot!" Penelo smacked his head, which only elicited an angry groan from Vaan's mouth. "When will you grow up, Vaan? I met some soldiers outside and they were spreading this news to the entire town; Ashe's going to throw a big party in a week! They said this is to celebrate the restoration of Dalmasca and many people from various regions will be welcomed, too! Oh gee, I'm so thrilled and excited, Vaan. I mean, wow."

"…What? Oh God. Oh dear," the blond haired boy scratched the back of his head, fingers running through his damp blond hair. He lost interest in whatever he had been doing, and was now looking at the cold stone below, absent-mindedly. "Oh my, I mean Penelo, gee, this is…quite unbelievable."

"I know!" The girl surprised him by hugging his body tightly in clear enthusiasm. He was taken back. "This is gonna be great, Vaan!"

"Yeah…and do you think we can meet her?"

Penelo released the hold, ever so slowly. She looked into his grey wandering eyes and with a slight shake of her head, she had to reply, "No, I don't know about that, Vaan."

He just smiled down at her, longing coursing behind his grey irises.

Her grey eyes were squinted as she tilted her head, baffled and curious. Under her nose was something with aromatic fragrance, which she knew had been cooked by a professional with best ingredients. But she couldn't fathom out why or how this thing looked so…bizarre. Cocking her head to the other side, she scrutinized the weird-looking food with intent gaze. But it was broken immediately when a gentle feminine voice resonated in her ears.

"May I help you with something, your majesty?"

Ashe bolted straight up, an awkward smile plastered across her nervous face. "Oh uhm, nothing really… I think…" The chef smiled genuinely at her, so genuine that the queen had to exhale admitting defeat. "Actually… I don't know what this thing—I just want to know what this food is called," she quickly covered her uneasiness, adding a noble tone into her somewhat raspy voice.

The chef looked to the food Ashe had been staring at, and smiled a motherly smile. The woman patiently explained, "Ah, it's called Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë. It's cooked with mixed seasonings, inside is cheese, scrambled egg, and ham. The peel is crispy, your majesty. I'm sure you love it. And it's served with tomatoes and lemon sauce—"

Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë?

"—but you can ask the master chef for more details, of course. I'm just helping around here."

Ashe blinked snapping out her trance. "Oh yes, sure. I mean, okay. No problem." Smiling for one last time, the queen went out the big kitchen, stumbling once as she opened the gigantic doors. Biting her bottom lip, she turned her head and looked around once she was out the sweet scented kitchen. A soldier hurried towards her.

"Your majesty," he bent a little in respect. "There's a letter from Lord Larsa."

She felt something bubbly tickling her stomach. Excited, the young woman nodded just as the soldier drew his hand giving a nicely wrapped letter to the queen. Ashe dismissed him while her slender fingers traced across the white envelop. There was Archadia symbol gracing the white surface at the front. She quickly opened it and read the tiny handwritings which belonged to none other than Larsa.

Dear Ashe,

How are things going on? It's been six days, hasn't it? Remember Ashe, tomorrow is the big day, make sure you have everything planned perfectly. Well, not I like I doubt you though, just sort of, reminding you? You know, I really hate to say this, but through this letter I have to tell you that I cannot join the party; we have some big issues going on here and I'm afraid I cannot leave everything just as they are now. Quite hectic, you see. I wish I could be there but what can I do? This is so frustrating. But well, I wish you best luck from the best stars on heavens.
I guess I'll see you next time? And please tell me how you're doing if you don't mind. Anyways, I'll be waiting for your reply.

Yours truly, Larsa.

Ashe leaned into the wall, expelling a sigh. Larsa wasn't coming? That was a bad news. She really hoped she would be seeing him again tomorrow; maybe he could help her making the situation less pressuring in case anything bad happened. And maybe he could tell her what to do, since this big party was the first one she ever held, and if not because of her people, she would deem this celebration as good as a waste of time and mind. But then again, this was about her and Dalmasca, so shouldn't she be doing things on her own?

Rubbing at her temples, the young queen moved from the wall and walked back to her room. As her strides bounced off the cream-colored walls, she reread the letter smiling. "So…how should I begin this?"

Today I examined something called Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë, and doesn't it sound so weird? It looked so…odd, at least in my eyes. I…

Her long sharp nails made a comforting click as they idly dug the mahogany table. The sound was distinct, but low enough not to disturb his condition. He felt so contented just hearing that sound, somehow sending him to a state where he could sleep for so long, without even a second to open his eyelids. But to his abhorrence, that sound was devoured by another noise as she stood up; the chair she'd been seating in was trailed back.

He had to raise his head slightly to see what was going on. "Fran?"

Two red eyes shot him an impatient look. "You better get ready, Balthier. You sleep like a scolded kid."

The gunman groaned and sank his head deeper into his pillow, breathing in the familiar scent, not wanting to let it go. This smell had become intimate with him, almost like a best friend who was capable of escorting him to a deep slumber, a land of dreams. Leaving it would be a bad idea, since dreams always offered the best and reality would just hurt sometimes. But Fran knew what to do with her partner and his obsession over pillows and sheets.

With a sly smirk dancing across her cocoa face, she grabbed the pillow and pulled the sheet away from his body, only to make the man groan more. Satisfied, Fran bent to look at him in the eye before asking, "Now wake up will you? I feel bad already, waking you up, acting like your mother…"

Balthier caught her peripheral stare and locked it with his brown eyes. "Well," he began in his early morning husky voice. "I don't need a mother. More like, I want you to be…"

There was a loud knock on the door and Balthier almost shot up from his sleepy state, surprised. Cursing under his breath, he finally moved from the comfy bed and combed his unruly hair with his fingers—just to make himself look more appropriate rather than disgusting. Beside, who the hell this person was, knocking the door so early like that? So well behaved, really.

Out the corner of his eye, he caught Fran chuckling to herself, obviously amused. With an aggravated groan he glanced towards the door, noticing the knocks hadn't receded. He scowled. "Who do you think it is, Fran?"

The Viera stopped chuckling and her face was deadpan. For a brief moment he wished he could take back his question, so that she would be laughing, still. Oh how he admired her divine laugh, so soothing, blessed by angels.

"Oh, it must be the hotel service, I think. I told them we're leaving early and that we probably will just have breakfast here instead down there." She shrugged nonchalantly as she walked towards the door, her paces as swift as usual. With a graceful swing the door opened, revealing a middle aged man standing with a tray of sweet scented breakfast in his hands. A wide smile stretched across his face.

"Here's the breakfast, m'lady."

Fran nodded slightly, giving him some gils before he completely left, half bouncing in the hallway. She closed the door again and placed the tray on a table. Balthier couldn't help but smirk.

"Since when it is m'lady to you?"

She shot him a death glare. "And since when did you become such a kid? Saliva all over your mouth."

Profanities slipped from the his mouth as he ran to the only mirror in the room, staring into it with eyes wide and face red. But the reflection registered in his eyes was perfectly fine, except the part where some strands of his brown hair stuck out in various directions demanding to be done. Yet other than that, nothing was wrong with him. So he jerked his head around, only to be greeted by an unexpected view.

Fran was trying so hard to retain herself from laughing, head bowed, white bangs covering her face.

Balthier groaned.

It was so soothing to hear the tune her bow was playing every time she released an arrow. Her moves were so agile, every time she leaped in the air she would just land on the ground almost soundlessly, like an angel. And it was him who watched at the back, playing his part by sending bullets against the air flow. They mingled so well; not only their arrows and bullets, but also their selves. It's as if they were meant to complete each other, in case one lacked something, the other one would come to help and fill.

"Don't be too rushed, Fran."

The Viera turned her head, arrow halted in the middle of the string. "I should have said that, instead of you. Aren't you hyped up now, sky pirate? We are going to Rabanastre now, just like our agreement spoke yesterday."

"We are going to Bervenia and we're just going to see this party for awhile," corrected the gunman, in a rather impatient tone. He was a little irked by this topic, somehow. He didn't know why the word 'Rabanastre' could become so sensitive between them.

"Yes," she shrugged. "And we'll be seeing Ash—"

"We'll be seeing our friends," amended Balthier again, teeth gritted.

Fran stayed silent for awhile, contemplating. A moment later she nodded and focused her eyes on her surroundings again, setting her senses alarmed. And he just sighed, and scratched the back of his head.

He didn't have a clue why this kind of talking had become strangely difficult and sensitive. Whenever the word 'Rabanastre' resurfaced into their topics, the word 'Ashe' would also ascend into their conversation. Not that it was bad, no; Ashe wasn't a psychopath who in the past had tried to kill both of them—no. Ashe was just her, the new ruler of Dalmasca, who, considering to her hard work all this time, was suitable to such great honor. But it was queer how that single name led them to some unspoken controversial disagreements.

He wouldn't deny having a tiny crush on the queen once—hell, wasn't he a normal guy. He would be lying if he said he hadn't ever felt the slightest interest towards Ashe, but the problem is, it was what people called 'past'. Beside, he learned it would be ironic to have a crush on someone almost unattainable and let it extend into something bigger as 'fall in love', let alone a princess—who was now a goddamned queen. But even if he had let the feeling grow, something stronger than that confined his heart from bearing a love for the queen.

Something stronger than a tiny feeling such as crush, something that even he couldn't comprehend. It had always been there, along with him, noticeable but incomprehensible. It was strong and he couldn't reject it. In the end, this something was what buried that tiny crush and he realized this was more important than anything. What was it?

Could it be…love?

No, not an ephemeral one, the one which could be depicted as a butterfly sticking to a beautiful flower but flying away when something more fascinating and tempting than that came into its flickering eyes. Not that one. But this one was different; the one that was permanently glued on your head and you couldn't take it off. Well, maybe you could, but the pain as you did so, would be unbearable. Maybe it would feel like dying.

But then again, could a gunman, also called as a sky pirate, and self-proclaimed leading man Balthier ever fall in love? Could someone as witty as him devote his life to one certain woman? Could his sharp tongue ever voice the words 'I love you' to a certain woman, instead of rhetorical comments? Could he ever confess that he was really in love? Could he ever admit that love truly existed to heal, instead of hurt? Could he ever say that it was there to bring salvation, instead of calamity?

He almost jumped and shot another bullet through the air when something sharp dug to his skin. Balthier lifted his head and found himself staring into a pair of crimson eyes which were blood alike. A breath of relief slipped from his mouth.

"Damn, Fran, you startled me like hell."

"I did?" The woman raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing her partner's words.

"You damn did."

Fran placed a hand on her hip and pointed her index finger to a dead beast lying not far from where they were standing. Balthier followed his gaze and to show his confusion, he gave her a quizzical look to which she replied with a straight expression across her face. Her lips turned upwards, and then words slipped from her mouth. "I had to kill this little cute beast while you, apparently," she was now looking at him in the eye, finger pointed to his chest. "Were doing some sort of memory gaining or something and I had to kill this monster to save your life, sky pirate."

He scowled. "You could have just warned me instead, m'lady."

"The problem is," she dropped her hand to the side, the other one draping her bow back to its place, across her back. "I did call your name for so many times but you didn't even once glance over my way. What's gotten into you, huh?"

"Er…" The gunman rubbed at his temples, now feeling stupid for his act. How could he be so careless? If Fran hadn't been there, he could have been served as this beast's dinner for free. What an ironic tragedy. "I…I was having something in mind, you know—"

Incredulity graced her sweaty face, which to his opinion looked awfully beautiful under the ochre rays of the sun. A moment later she wrinkled her nose and her lithe white brows were drawn into a deep frown, something she always did whenever she felt unsure or curious. "You…" she began, but trailed off.

"Yeah? I what?"

"You…you are not having this love problem humes always whine over, do you?"

For some seconds, both of them were dead silent. No one dared to speak, or maybe they just opted not to say any word. They were staring into each other's eyes, entering those iridescent layers of protection, trying to figure out what each one of them would say. But being normal mortals that they were, none could guess anything. Trying to be calmer and sort of wiser, Balthier blinked an eye, which ended their intent eye contact immediately.

He was also the one who voiced out the words which in the past thirty seconds had decided to stay in his throat. "I… Well, don't Viera have love problem too?" He asked instead of answering the question. He wasn't sure of this feeling yet; it could be anything silly, instead of something cliché and mysterious like love. Hell, it felt like ages since the last time he actually mentioned that sacred word.

Fran folded her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently against the grassy ground. The viridescent grass made no noise as her stiletto dug into them. "We Viera hardly have those kinds of problems, actually. We may be simple in your eyes, but we're much more complicated than that. You people may find our act towards the word love is kind of odd, but it is just our nature to ignore it. It isn't on our list of top things to do. And no offence, but we do think it's a waste of time, devoting yourself to stay with only one person for your whole life.

"We only think of important things. The way we think is simple; we must breed to prolong the life of Viera in this world, and due to our long living, it is kind of rare to see Viera getting married or involving their life with men. We can stand on our own so that's why, I really don't understand why so many humes whine over a tiny problem such as love. To us, love is not incessant."

"… …"

"Why share your life with another person, if you can share it with yourself and there's nothing you lack?"

"…Gee Fran, I think you need to catch your breath."

The woman stared down at her partner, lips pressed together as she waited for a response – anything from the sky pirate. She looked as casual as usual, and it was kind of surprise to him, hearing that brief speech of how Viera looked at love from such a different angle. Was that why she barely paid attention to men? Was that why not even once she tried to take a second glance at them? Was that why she was being like this…?

Straight, stoned, and barricaded.

Wasn't it a miracle that he had managed to change her a little; the one he'd met in the past was beyond expectation, so much like a robot with very few choices of emotion and reaction. But no, Fran wasn't the same bunny robot anymore.

Damn, weren't Viera complicated and unpredictable?

"Well, don't you have any answer to my question, Balthier?"

"… …"

The sound of birds flying between every redden leave was somehow so pacifying, calming down his nerves thus he could clear his mind. Every flap of their wings encouraged him to utter some words he never knew he'd ever say. The warm sunbeams against his features were somewhat warm, awarding him a poise he'd lost. And for the very first time in his life, Balthier felt he was worth the title leading man as he said,

"You know what Fran? I could give you a long speech about this but I have another easier method."

When the woman cocked her head to the side confused, a wide grin adorned his face. "I'll show you instead of telling. Don't you think a long speech will bore you? I'd be bored if I were you. Well... I'll just show you that that thing isn't as trivial as you deem it to be. I'll make sure you ever fall in love – yeah, as cliché as it sounds."

Author's Note: oh yeah. I'm a meanie for leaving you hanging like that.
but well… uhm yeah. Your feedbacks/comments/reviews are always welcome. They mean a lot to me n,n