A/N - Hi everyone! I was just thinking that after I wrote the first theme, I never expected it to take off like this! As long as I can think of new ideas, I will keep on going. I start uni next week but I will try my best not to be too long between updates. Now...enjoy!
Fight
By now, Balthier is well aware that once a year, Fran quietly disappears for a week and returns as if nothing has happened. He knows better than to ask of course, in the same way that he knows better than to ask her to take off her heels and see if he is actually taller than her without them. Viera do as they do and remain as mysterious and beguiling as ever.
Lounging in the Sandsea with Vaan and Penelo, Balthier wonders idly how they managed to get him to agree to their company. Perhaps he was already there when they came, and invited themselves over. Yes, this seems a reasonable assumption, given the depleted level of the liquid in the bottle he rolls around the table.
"It's so weird seeing him without Fran," Vaan comments.
"Vaan, don't talk about him as if he's not here!" hisses Penelo.
"Quite right Vaan. Your sweetheart has the right idea," Balthier says, knowing this will sidetrack the adolescent pair for awhile, at least until their blushes disappear.
He gives his mind back to the problem at hand, being the location to which Fran removes herself. Could it be some sort of viera ritual? Does she return to the Wood's embrace, or the embrace of another man? Balthier does not like the sound of that. He clenches his jaw. He tells Fran everything, so why can she not tell him this?
"Balthier?" The hesitant voice brings him back to himself. It is the voice of Penelo, all sweetness and light. Well, as sweet as can be for one who has just pummeled Vaan within an inch of his life. "Um, well, Vaan and I were wondering where Fran is?"
"Yeah, did you have a fight?" Vaan adds, and Penelo gives him a look which clearly indicates that she wants very much to start one with him.
Balthier thinks for a moment. "No. Although we do fight from time to time, this was not one of those times."
"Huh? What do you fight about?" Vaan asks nosily. It is interesting to note that Penelo does not stop him.
"Oh, the usual. The ship repairs, marks, targets..." He grins wickedly. "Who makes up the next excuse to avoid you two, the amount I spend on my shirts, her not keeping to her side of the bed-"
"Now you're just faking us out," Vaan decides.
Balthier pours himself another glass. "Of course, my very young apprentice." He tunes out Vaan's bristling response. It is now the seventh day of Fran's absence, so he supposes that he can ask Fran what she's been up to when she returns later today.
At some point during the day, Penelo and Vaan leave him. Off to cause mischief no doubt. He wonders when he will stop seeing them as orphans. Fran would say...
Fran.
Balthier grimaces. He misses her, naturally. But he is also a little annoyed about her secret. There he goes again, thinking about it. Thinking about her. He looks out of the tavern window, noting the late afternoon sun. Any moment now, Fran could walk in the door. Any moment now...
A light touch of nails running up his back brings a smile to his face. The lady has returned.
"Couldn't keep yourself away, could you my dear?" he says languidly.
"This Hume intrigues me. He does not smell of the Land."
Too late, Balthier realises that it is not Fran. He should have known from the beginning of course, as Fran does not show much in the way of affection in public. Now he is feeling irritable, because his hopes have been raised and then dashed down onto the rocks below.
He turns around to confirm it. Yes, this viera is white-eared, dark-haired and favours the desert dress of Nalbina. Fran would never cover her glorious sheen with cheap, nasty hair dye. Fran would never be so crass as to rake her claws across a stranger's back, not unless she wished to kill.
"You're not my viera," he blurts out rudely.
The viera's ears twitch. "Your pardon, Earth-child? Do all Humes own a daughter of the Wood?"
"Not what I meant," Balthier says quickly. He suddenly becomes very aware of how terribly rude he is being. Making an effort to summon his charming persona, he rises to his feet and gives a little bow.
"My pardon indeed," he says contritely. "I was startled. Your grace and beauty reminded me of another of your kind. I was taken aback when you were not her."
The viera seems to accept this. "Humes are easily startled."
Balthier clears his throat, about to inform his guest that he is expecting someone any minute now.
"I am called Fafyn. I am but newly arrived in this place." She pauses, looking up at him through dark, dark eyelashes. "I am in need of a guide."
Balthier raises an eyebrow. This is definitely one of his fantasies, but it's the wrong lady, Fran has told him in the past of viera who fill the void left by the voice of the Wood with drink and carnal pleasures. He remembers making some smart comment about that which Fran actually snickered at. Perhaps this Fafyn is one of them, for most viera are reserved and hold themselves aloof from humes.
It is just the leading man's luck that the viera's next action is to drape herself over him, and that Fran arrives before he is able to politely put an end to her advances. His first words to her are startled and dripping with guilt.
"Fran!"
"Balthier."
"I see you have not been without company," she says, and he can feel the frost in her tone. Balthier untangles himself from the other viera's arms.
"Fran-"
But Fran turns on her heel and stalks away.
And of course, he goes after her.
Balthier can guess enough about his partner that she will return to the Strahl, because although they have spent time enough in Rabanastre, the ship is her home. By the time he reaches it, his elation at her return has mixed with a sick feeling of guilt, for what must she be thinking now?
"I have missed you Fran," is the first thing that pops out of his mouth.
Fran frowns. "I have missed you," she says uncertainly.
Balthier senses that she has softened towards him, so he pushes on. "Where did you go? What I mean to say is, where do you go...when you disappear?"
Fran's eyes flash. "Evidently, any viera will do as my replacement," she says in a low voice.
"You know that's not true," he says quietly. "You know there's only you." His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and Fran hears.
She sighs deeply. "We do not often fight, you and I."
"I'd like to keep it that way," Balthier says, reaching for her hand. He notices that she is still wearing the ring he gave her, and somehow, this makes him feel better.
"Then, there shall be no secrets between us," Fran says.
"I assure you, I am keeping nothing from you," Balthier insists. He does not like to insist, as this indicates desperation, something hardly worthy of the leading man.
"I know..."
"I go to get away from you," she says finally.
"Good lord Fran, I don't find that insulting in the least," Balthier mumbles, sarcasm evident. He is hurt, crinkling his brow in confusion.
"You sulk," comments Fran.
"Well I thought you liked me," he replies petulantly.
She runs her claws along his spine. "We are partners, are we not?"
Balthier nods faintly, feeling both confused and of the opinion that he is rapidly losing control of the situation.
"Yes," he agrees, stepping away even though he doesn't want to. "But...what sort of partners, hmm?"
"There is a tradition among the viera. We spend time away from our sisters so that we do not take them for granted. It reminds us to cherish the bond between us when we return," explains Fran.
"So," Balthier says as he twines his arm around her shoulders, "You leave me here to drink alone for a week...because you like me?"
By way of response, Fran leans into his shoulder. "Foolish hume..."
"Would you like me to remind you not to take me for granted?" he asks. Both of his arms slip down and wrap around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel her skin, so warm through the sleeves of his shirt. Her hair smells of flowers and rain.
Fran says nothing, only sighs.
He gently parts her hair and kisses her cheek, her neck, her shoulder.
She smiles. "We should fight more often."