Author's Note: To those concerned about the relatively short length of the chapters: First, let me say that I am a strong believer in quantity over quality. That being said and now quite out of the way, I have been recently working on extending the length of my chapters with relative fervor. However, the fruits of my labor will most likely not be beheld within this story, as it is already mostly written and I don't believe it requires redoing all for the sake of filling in words to accomplish what's been done already. You may look forward to further effort concerning chapter length in my upcoming works. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this installment!
"Treasured Trickery"
Hand outstretched and reaching for the dagger, Balthier's fingers became limp and his arm fell to his side. He couldn't resist smiling as he turned, hip cocked and wondering who had caught him. Was it in an imperial? An errant party go-er? He prayed it was not another instance like the one with Vaan – he could only handle so many companions, and was quite enjoying his vacation away from the spirited youngster.
Rather than a heavily armored guard, Balthier's eyes were met with a woman. She was tall for her gender, with brunette hair that seemed to glint a bit red from the gold's refractions. Her eyes were a dull hazel, peering playfully at him through short lashes and beneath thin brows. She seemed to be about his age, he speculated, with a general prettiness that he supposed belied her intentions. Her eyes, which continued to observe him, rested above a straight nose and dry lips, framed by cheekbones that cast light shadows across her face.
"Well, you are him, are you not?" she asked, crossing her arms. Behind her he could see a bookcase standing ajar, the portion of wall it had occupied completely missing. Stairs led down into the darkness of the newly opened route, and he realized she had used the very same passageway for entrance as he had intended for exit.
Balthier smirked. "One and the same. And might I ask your name?"
"You might," she responded in her elegant Archadian accent. "But I very much doubt you'll receive an answer."
"Very well then," he said, shrugging.
"You needn't worry," she told him, and remarked beneath her breath, "though I doubt you were anyway." She continued, pacing the room a little with no deliberate haste. "You and I are kindred souls."
"Oh?" he speculated, feeling at ease, though prepared to draw his gun at a moment's notice.
"Quite right," she said, now much closer. "I've no interest in arresting you, nor in anything you've accumulated in that motley pile of plunder of yours." She gesticulated with disdain to the treasure stacked near the entrance. "I've only two interests."
"And what, pray tell, are they?" he inquired.
"I can tell you only one," she informed him airily. "My foremost interest is a secret." She paced about him, circling him with some level of intrigue until she was nearly out of his sight. He turned to see her glancing around the room, her eyes filled with apathy.
"And what might you be interested in that you can tell me?" He crossed his arms.
"You," she told him simply and turned to face him.
He scoffed, but felt little surprise. "Me?"
She nodded, grinning. "Quite the bounty on your head, Balthier Bunansa. I had assumed you were quite the crafty sky pirate. But," her tone became wistful as she gazed again at the treasure he had placed near the exit, "I can see you've not an eye for quality. Quite a disappointment."
Balthier felt like laughing. "I'm terribly sorry I do not meet your standards, my lady."
She waved a hand in the air. "Oh, don't beat yourself up over it. One day I may find it in my heart to see you as a proper villain again."
"I see." He rolled his eyes. "If that is all, then I believe I'll be on my way."
He made his way to pluck the dagger, but she intercepted him. "Not quite so, my good sir. You see, that dagger is my first interest."
"Then," he said, "as your second interest, it is my duty to retrieve your first."
"A chivalrous offer, to be sure," she remarked. "But I believe I can retrieve it of my own means. I thank you for the sentiment, though, in any case."
Balthier shook his head. "It simply would not do for a lady to sully her hands with such a dusty thing. Please, allow me."
He reached for it again, and this time she said nothing as she withdrew a dagger of her own and rested the blade against his wrist. His outstretched hand halted, and he smirked. "Really, Balthier, they said you had a way with women, but I assure you that in this case, your valiant efforts are in vain."
"You will mock me and threaten to dismember me, and still I do not get to know your name?" He lowered his hand and watched her pluck the dagger from its pedestal, dust taking flight. "You are most cruel, my lady."
"I play the cards that fate has dealt me," she told him, strapping the scabbard around her waist and patting the hilt of the dagger. She gave him a frank look. "You of all people should know that."
"I believe not in fate, rather in my own doing and undoing," he said.
"Then so too must you believe in the undoing of others," she stated.
The nameless woman approached him, closing the little distance between them. When he stood his ground and refused to move, she placed light hands on his shoulders and motioned him backwards. Balthier felt his back tap lightly against the wall, and had one hand waiting obediently over the grip of his gun. "Now, then," she whispered, her voice much darker, "to claim my second bounty."
Forcefully, she pressed her lips to his. The back of his head hit the wall, but he returned the rather abrupt kiss, hand remaining poised over his pistol. Her lips were rough against his, for they were dry and chapped and it had been quite some time since he had kissed a woman without full, rouged lips. Something about her taste was spicy and exotic, but clouded with the eerie familiarity of mead and a hint of Madhu wine.
A loud clatter sounded from behind the door, and Balthier could feel her lips tug into a grin against his. Pressing them more forcefully, his head flew back and banged against the stone wall. Pain panged through his skull and he raised his hands to grasp it, while the stranger freed his gun from its holster and flung it across the room.
"My apologies," she said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. "We shall meet again, Balthier Bunansa." As darkness clouded his eyes, he saw her slip behind the bookshelf, tugging it with her until she disappeared, and the shelf not looking the least bit displaced. In his last moments of consciousness, Balthier saw the treasury door fly open and imperials swarm its confines.
