"Ow!"

"It's not that bad."

"Did you not just hear me say ow?"

"Oh, don't be such a child."

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one sitting here with a broken nose."

Queen Ashe stepped back from her husband and gave him a weary smile. Balthier was sitting before her, in their bedchamber, sporting a battered and bloody nose. Bruises were already starting to form around his eyes and he looked so sorry for himself that Ashe had to use all her self-control to stop from sniggering at his morose state. She picked up the damp washcloth she had been using to clean his face and gently resumed cleaning the blood away from his swollen nose, ignoring his hiss at her touch.

"It's not broken." She gave him a quick smirk, a bad habit she had picked up from him. Balthier looked back at her, utterly woebegone.

"How bad is it?" He asked. Ashe made a show of examining his face, knowing the longer she debated it, the more excruciating it would be for him. It was understandable for him to be concerned but he could be so vain sometimes, her malicious streak couldn't help but play with him.

"You're hideous." She said, completely serious. "I'm going to need to get myself a new husband. There's no way I'm going to be able to be seen in public with you now." Balthier started to laugh but stopped short and winced. His face was clearly sore and Ashe's heart went out to him. She reached out and stroked his face with love in her eyes before lightly placing a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

"You'll be fine once the bruises go down." She reassured him and returned to her cloth. "Why didn't you cast Cure on it?" She asked.

"I did!" He rebuked. "That's why it's no longer broken! Doesn't stop it bloody hurting though." Ashe frowned at him.

"You're out of practice." She said, and it was Balthier's turn to frown.

"Just because I've never been up to your standard doesn't mean I'm out of practice." He grumbled and then sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this."

"I suppose the truth's not an option?" Balthier looked at his wife.

"Ashe, it's bad enough that I'm sporting two black eyes, I don't need everyone knowing how I got them." He said. "No, I'll have to think of something much less embarrassing. I'll just tell everyone Fran punched me, she'll back me up." Ashe raised an eyebrow.

"How is that less embarrassing?"

"Think about it? Would you want to mess with Fran?" Ashe had to give him that. They sat quietly for a moment while Ashe cast Cure on his nose again to reduce the swelling. She followed it with another kiss on his nose and one on the lips, before pulling back and surveying her husband.

"Are you going to go and talk to him?" She asked, giving him one of her no-nonsense stares. Balthier grumbled.

"I don't know, I'm afraid, he might beat me up again."

"He didn't beat you up, it was an accident and he feels terrible."

"I should bloody well hope so! He broke my nose!"

"Balthier!"

"Ashe!"

"Dad?"

Balthier and Ashe both looked around to see their eldest son and child hovering nervously in the doorway.

"Dad, are you okay now?" Balthier fixed his son with a dark look.

"Ah, there's the perpetrator now." He said. Ashe glared at him.

"Be nice." She warned, and prodded his bruise.

"Ignore him, Bris, he's just being a grouch. He never did make a very good patient. Come in." She gestured to him. Bris glanced nervously at his father before leaving the safety of the doorway and coming to stand by his mother.

At nine years old, Bris was tall for his age. Even though Balthier knew girls were usually taller at this point, Bris was matching his twin sister almost to the inch. He claimed he wanted to be as tall as Fran when he grew up and at the rate he was going it felt almost possible. It was his son's height that had helped contribute to Balthier's current predicament.

For several weeks now, ever since his birthday, Bris had been trying to convince his parents that he was old enough now to start learning how to use the weapons that both Balthier and Ashe were so proficient with. Boys being boys, he had been running around the Palace playing sword fights ever since he was four. Ashe wasn't keen on the idea of any of her children with a blade until they were at least twelve - the age she started learning at - and they were a little stronger in themselves, and so they offered an alternative: archery. It was an elegant and noble skill to possess and could be just as deadly as a sword or gun if used correctly. Ashe had learnt how to use a bow herself over the course of her journey to free Dalmasca, and still enjoyed practicing with it. As a result, both Bris and his twin sister Illyana, had been allowed to take up the hobby, (much to the upset of their youngest son who, at six, was told he was still too young to participate). When Fran had recently come to visit, she was more than happy to offer her invaluable advice to aid them.

Illyana had picked it up quickly and was eager to improve on this new-found talent. Bris, however, was struggling to get on with a bow, complaining that it was a 'girly' weapon ("Don't let Fran hear you say that." Balthier had warned him). Instead, he had begged his father to teach him how to use a gun just like he did, and foolishly, Balthier had relented. He had also decided it was probably best not to tell Ashe.

He had schooled his son on all the proper safety procedures, taught him the correct way to hold a gun and told him all about the type of control required for using such a weapon. After an hour or so, believing he was ready, the time had finally come to for Bris to take his first shot.

Balthier had been kneeling behind him, steadying his hands and helping him taking aim. He was helping Bris hold the barrel of the gun with his left hand, while kneeling on his right side, adjusting his elbow to the right height. When Bris was ready, he shifted back slightly to give him space but kept his hands on his son's back to steady him for the inevitable kickback that would be coming. Bris breathed and took the shot.

BANG!

"OW!"

Bris's right elbow flew back harder than expected from the recoil action of the gun, straight into Balthier's nose. He was virtually blinded with the sharp pain and felt the blood running down his face. Needless to say, there was a reasonable amount of cursing involved. Bris was horrified at what he'd done, but, as he was taught, put the gun away safely before running to fetch his mother. Balthier managed to make it back to his rooms to clean himself up before Ashe had found him and taken over.

Now Bris stood before his somewhat sore father, awaiting his judgement. Balthier just continued to glare at his son.

"You, young man," Balthier eventually began, "owe me a new shirt!" He lifted up the one he just replaced to show him the blood splattered down it. "Do you know how hard it is to get blood stains out?" Bris looked truly worried until he noticed the small smile on his father's lips. He wasn't really angry with him.

Ashe also had a smile on her face and she gave her son a quick squeeze before taking the cloth she had been using into the bathroom to clean out, giving her two boys a moment alone. Balthier held out an arm, gesturing for Bris to come and sit next to him. Apart from having blue eyes and wearing his hair differently, Bris was the spitting image of his father and it always gave Balthier the vastest feeling of pride whenever he looked at his eldest, (well, any of his three children) as it clearly said to the world 'This one is mine'. He remembered how he came to hate the resemblance he shared to Cid and prayed that none of his children would ever come to feel the same way about him.

Bris looked up his father, still the slightest touch of fear in his eyes.

"Dad, I'm so sorry about hurting you." Balthier gave his boy a soft smile and dismissive wave of his hand as he held him close.

"Bris, It's not your fault, it was an accident." He said. "Trust me, if anyone is to blame it's me as I'm sure your mother will insist on telling me later." A laugh of agreement was heard from the bathroom, making Bris finally start to smile.

"I guess I have to go back to learning the bow now, don't I?" He said sadly. Balthier sighed.

"I don't think I'm the one you need to negotiate that with." He said, glancing back to the bathroom. "But you probably are still a little too young for the gun. Anyway, I've got a feeling you're going to be a natural swordsman when you get the chance." He tried to boost his son's spirits.

"Yeah, when I'm twelve." Grumbled Bris. "That's three years away. I liked your gun." Inspiration struck Balthier.

"Have you tried a crossbow?" He said. "They're easier then a proper bow and have similarities to a gun. I think that might be a good compromise for you." Bris pondered this.

"A crossbow." He murmured. "That might work. Thanks Dad!" He gave his father a wide smile and hugged him. "I really am sorry about your nose." He said.

"I know you are, son." Balthier replied, releasing him. "Now go on, get out of here before you do me anymore damage!" He sent his son laughing out of the room. Balthier looked up to see Ashe had come back to his side.

"You're a good father, Balthier." She said with a smile, and took his hand. Balthier took that as an opportunity to pull her onto his lap.

"It's a tough job but it has it's rewards, much like being married to you." Ashe rolled her eyes but then kissed him anyway. When they separated, Balthier gave her a sneaky grin.

"Anyway, my love, I can't help but feel that if I really wanted to make him feel better, I should have told him about the time that you broke my nose instead." He kissed her again before she could react. "Now that is a story."