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Chapter 37: Honor
It is a strange thing to see tears on a Viera. Balthier thought as he made his way back down to the cockpit of the Strahl. The deck had been cold and as much as he knew Viera rarely needed any protection from the forces of nature, their armor was proof of that, Balthier was still raised to be a gentleman, and something as handling a woman, whether they be Hume or Viera was still the right thing to do.
The question was if it was still considered as the gentlemanly thing to do if he decided to allow a certain woman to cry and fall asleep on his shoulder.
As the sky pirate made his way towards the rooms, he cast a worried glance at the sleeping form of Fran in his arms. It somewhat relieved him to see her quiet and at peace, though it be small. How alike they were, Fran and he. He had proceeded to the deck earlier that evening to check up on Fran and had been surprised to see that unlike her usual aloof self, Fran had been standing rigid straight, head thrown back and tears coursing down her cheeks.
Tears which she hastily wiped away when she felt him coming and pretended not to have shed when Balthier drew level with her. Looking back at it now, Balthier knew it could have gone any other way, depending on his reaction. He had opted for the second reaction, the one he rarely used, the reaction of which he was concerned.
"What is amiss?" he had asked in an unusually serious voice, placing his hands on his hips and turning to meet his hazel eyes with her surprised red orbs.
' What?" Fran answered, her surprise evident in her voice. Balthier merely cocked his head and peered at her more closely.
'Correct me if I'm wrong, but in my experience, a woman who usually sheds tears has a problem heavier than she lets on, and not all the time does it involve me,' He gave her a reassuring smile, as if trying to tell her she could trust him. After all, they knew each other long enough.
Fran was silent after his statement, merely throwing her hair behind her in a manner that meant she did not want to talk and he'd better not push her.
Balthier sighed and made to turn back and return to the ship. Only when Fran's words were carried to him by the wind did he stop in his tracks.
'A Viera cannot forget the ways of the Wood,'
The words were spoken so softly that Balthier had thought he had not heard it. When he returned to stand beside Fran, she repeated her words.
'A Viera cannot forget the ways of the Wood,' she whispered almost to the wind. Balthier looked at her confusedly but waited for her to continue. Fran turned to meet his eyes.
'Even a daughter that has left her boughs,' there was a desperation in her voice that Balthier had never heard before. He did not realize he edged closer to her.
'I never asked for you to do so,' he whispered.
What Balthier did not expect was Fran's vulnerable expression to be replaced with disgust as she hissed in an irritated voice,
" You humes always assume we speak of you. A Viera knows honor and by the life of me I cannot understand why a species as humes fail to understand this.'
It was the sky pirate's turn to look surprised. He had never seen Fran this angry before and he figured that perhaps this little problem she had was something she had been pondering on for quite some time. It was so typically Fran for her not to say anything until she could no longer keep it in. It had been the same way when Balthier learned of her exile from her home.
'Ah, but we have something that a Viera rarely can comprehend as well.' He answered smoothly, his voice light. Before Fran could even ask he added, "The ability to be so stubbornly foolish as to ask people if something is the matter though the person in question is reluctant.'
There was that smile again, a smile, Balthier knew Fran would be delighted in wiping off his face. He hardly cared. He had never seen Fran shed tears, not even when Jote denied her passage in the wood and as much as he did not like to admit it, he was more concerned for her.
'It is almost time for the Tournament of the Champions,' she said and once more turned to look at the stars.
'Ah,' Balthier said in an acknowledging voice. He would have wanted to add "And what is this Tournament exactly?" but he knew better than to push. He was not like Vaan, blunt and as tactless as a bangaa. Instead, he waited patiently for Fran to explain, and sure enough she did.
The Viera, as he knew lived in Golmore Jungle. However, under the Viera, Golmore had another name, as it expanded throughout a larger territory than no human has ever seen before. To the Viera, their home was called Lentia.
Balthier understood that from Fran there was a Tournament every ten thousand hume years to see who would be the guardians of the object most revered among Viera: Lente's Heart. He had been fascinated by this tale but did not want to press Fran for further details as she seemed in pain to even speak of it. So he did not ask nor press any questions about this most revered object only accepting that the pendant of which Jote, the Elder of Eruyt Village had given Vaan came from this and it held more power than any object known to Hume kind.
"Yes, it is more powerful than any form of nethicite, whether it be manufacted or deifacted," Fran had said even before Balthier could say anything about this piece of information.
She then continued to say that in this Tournament held by all the Viera villages, five Viera would compete in hopes to become the Duenna or Herald of the Heart. This Viera would have to guard the Heart until the next tournament and if another could beat him or her.
"There has been no one who could beat the First Duenna," Fran said in a reminiscing voice as she sat down on the metal hood of the Strahl's deck. Of course, Baltheir had pulled her down with him so she had no choice, but she was sitting nonetheless.
"Ah, a woman of strength and power I take it." Balthier had said in his usual drawling voice. "Reminds me of you."
Fran seemed intent in her remembering that she did not hear him and Balthier withdrew into a listening silence.
"It has been tradition that whosoever the Champion of their village was to be the next Elder if he or she was beaten by the Duenna. The Champion is the Heir." Fran added.
Balthier nodded in understanding. "So Jote was chosen on her time and she was defeated by this First Duenna or something. Your sister became the Elder after that."
"The Highest Honor paid to Viera is to be chosen as a Champion and then become the Duenna or Herald. To be Elder is as much a duty as an Honor." Fran said and there was more than forceful protectiveness for her sister.
Balthier made an impatient sound. He never could get why Fran defended her sister so. Jote had chosen to side with the rules rather than save Fran and for Balthier that was reason enough to forget her, may she be family or not. But Fran is Fran and she would never see it that way, so the sky pirate was careful of voicing out his opinions of Eruyt Village's elder.
"I get your Honor. I always have. But I do say whatever is paid the highest honor is a matter of perspective. Whatever it is you do is done by what standards you live by. If you live the standards of a cockatrice, your honor is nothing but as round as those birds. It is a matter of opinion." Balthier said. He did not quite understand the fuss of Fran's tears if it was just this tournament that reminded her of her sister or if it was something else. However, Fran's next words were startling to say the least:
"I was chosen to be the next Champion of my village."
Balthier threw her a surprised look. What he understood from these Champions that they were the Best of the Best. They were trained since they were naught but children not only in battle and magick but in ways to rule and live by the Green Wood. After all, since no one has been able to beat the First Duenna, it was only natural that the Former Elders train their successors as well.
This meant that Fran was not only trained in normal Viera standards but as a future-elder. She would have fought the First Duenna, or whoever it was and become either Duenna or Elder afterwards. She would have needed something more than just knowing the way so handling weapons. He did not know what to say to this revelation and had been silent, but Fran had continued to speak, relating and speaking more than she had ever spoken before.
"We come from a family of Champions. Jote, Mjrn and I were trained in all possible ways. Jote was to take the place of my Mother if she could not beat the First Duenna, and in time, she will pick me and I shall pick Mjrn if my time comes. This was the way of Eruyt. Jote had challenged the Duenna when her time came and she was defeated. She soon took up the title 'Elder' and brought Eruyt much order.'
'That was when you left and came into Archades.' Baltheir added in a soft voice noticing the mist in her ruby eyes and the way her mouth was grim. He himself never heard of the reason she left the Wood, only the time she did so.
'I left before Jote could ever name me Heir or Champion. I grew uneasy during her rule and thought my destiny did not reside in the Wood. I left because I never wanted to be Champion, Heir or Elder. I left because I was afraid.'
This time the tears in both Fran's voice and face was evident and Balthier found himself moving closer, not really knowing what he was supposed to do to help, but knowing that this was a side she had never shown before. Not even to him.
'I am a coward.' Fran hissed in self-disgust and she wiped her tears angrily with the back of her hand.
'You are not a coward,' Balthier murmured, handing her the handkerchief he kept in his pocket. 'You left because you wanted to find yourself. It is not cowardice to take that risk. Never ever think that it is so.' He said firmness in his voice.
When Fran rejected the offered handkerchief Balthier took her face into his hands and wiped the tears away himself.
'It is never good to have tearstains anywhere on your face." He said with a light voice. 'It shadows everything, including your beauty.'
Balthier had met her eyes at this statement and Fran had held his gaze. For the first time, none of them wanted to steer the path away from the dangerous waters as this attraction they felt since the beginning and Balthier was relieved at this. Fran was obviously a more sensitive person than he himself had thought, deeply caring and deeply lonely.
In normal situations during Balthier's previous relationships, he would have leaned in and met the girl's lips with his own if they looked at each other like that. He would kiss her in certain ways that the girl in question would end up breathless and do whatever it is he told her to. Even Ashe had been like that when he fancied himself a bet with Basch and Vaan that night at the Hunter's Camp when they trekked towards Archades. He had won that bet and both the men had been speechless, and Ashe was embarrassed after all of it.
However, Fran was unlike Ashe or any other woman. She was definitely unlike Balthier's previous conquests and he had no desire to make her one. Or did he? He honestly did not know himself. The very subject of love for him was as fickle and fleeting as his father's sanity after Jagd Difhor. And Balthier had no desire to risk his friendship with Fran a such a test.
So instead, he merely wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders and brought her close into an embrace.
'It is rather drafty out,' he had said and ignored Fran's surprised looks at his forwardness. 'Let us not talk about miserable pasts and such at a night like this Fran, you know how I detest it.'
He had then steered the subject away and Fran retreated into her usual silence and let him talk, but not once did she try to disengage herself from his embrace or his warmth. Only when Balthier suddenly realized how he liked Fran leaning on his shoulder did he realize the Viera had fallen asleep. He had picked her up then, and returned inside.
When Balthier placed his companion in her own bed, (he removed whatever part of her armor he could, which included those heels she wore and headdress) he draped a blanket over her sleeping form, closed the door and went to reprogram the autopilot to a destination away from Golmore.
