Future Perfect

Two years later
Somewhere above the Paramina Rift

It was the silence that woke her.

Penelo jackknifed up from a sound sleep with the fear-inducing certainty that something was terribly wrong. Mounting dread sent an icy shiver skittering down her back as she shoved herself to the side of the bed, her shaking fingers unerringly finding the rim of the cradle even in the near-perfect darkness. The thin mattress within was cool to the touch, and empty.

Empty.

Panic clawed at her throat. Her heart lurched in her chest, and she opened her mouth to scream for Balthier. But before the sound could escape, there was a gurgle of delighted laughter than ended on a piercing screech. Following on its heels was the gentle rumble of Balthier's muffled voice.

Her racing pulse slowed; she let out a long breath in pure relief, the tension draining away as she shoved away the tangled sheets and climbed out of bed. Even exhausted as she so frequently was these days, she could not resist the impulse to discover just what her two favorite men were up to this time of night.

The door slid open silently at the pressure of her fingertips. Light spilled from the deck into the corridor, and as she crept towards the deck, she could see Balthier's bare feet propped upon the navigation console as he stretched out in his chair.

"Now, now, my lad," he soothed as the baby cradled in his arms fretted. "You've been running your poor mama ragged lately. I know you've got a fine set of lungs, but she'll surely come running if you use them, and we really ought to let her sleep just a bit longer."

Penelo smothered a laugh in her palm, leaning against the entryway to observe them. Their son's tiny fists flailed in the air, and his face scrunched up into a pout. It was true that he had a fine set of lungs; his predilection for using them at any and every opportunity had sent Fran fleeing to seek refuge aboard the Galbana with Vaan and Yulia. She'd stoically endured weeks of the colicky infant's constant screams, going around with cotton stuffed in her sensitive ears before she'd at last given up the fight and sworn she would not return until he learned to modulate his voice, which currently seemed to have only one volume – ear-splitting.

Balthier bounced their son gently until his fractious expression eased into quiet curiosity. Gradually he ceased his flailing, lowering his fists to curl them beneath his chin as he made soft cooing sounds of contentment.

"There's my boy," Balthier crooned, shifting the child in his arms to free one hand, and smoothing the downy shock of tousled blonde hair atop their son's head. "I suppose Mama's much better at this than I am, isn't she? At the very least she makes a much more comfortable pillow, I'm sure – she's certainly softer."

The baby giggled, dimples shining in both cheeks as he gave a wide, toothless grin as if in agreement of Balthier's assessment.

"You've got so much of your mama in you," Balthier said. "That unruly hair is all hers. But your eyes – those, I think, will turn out to be mine."

Penelo smiled; she was certain they would. They had been, like most infants, bright blue at birth – but they had lately begun that subtle shifting of hues, acquiring a bit more of Balthier's own glint of mischief day by day as they turned inexorably towards that devastating green.

"Shall we have a story, then?" Balthier inquired of the baby, who blinked up at him with wide eyes, entranced by the sound of his father's voice. "Mind you, your mama's the storyteller in this family. You'll have to forgive me if I bungle it; I've not had the practice she has."

An answering gurgle was his response; he tapped the baby's nose with his fingertip and received a laugh for his trouble. "But then, perhaps you're too young yet to mind either way. I only hope to improve before you've grown enough to recognize your papa's shortcomings."

He cleared his throat and readjusted, stretching out to reposition his son to lay against his chest, holding him securely and rubbing his back in slow circles. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess locked away in an ivory tower." A heartbeat's hesitation before he amended, "Well, perhaps it was neither ivory nor tower, but you're young yet, so I'll spare you the unsavory details. And perhaps she wasn't precisely a princess, but she had the heart of one – and she was very, very beautiful. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

The baby cooed and rubbed his cheek against Balthier's chest as his squirming body went lax to the soothing cadence of Balthier's voice.

"Our beloved princess was in dire straits, and in desperate need of rescue. And I'm sure your mama has told you enough fairy stories by now for you to know that, generally, the princess in need of rescue gets a handsome prince." He heaved a sigh. "Alas, our princess had to settle for a pirate."

This time, Penelo could not quite muffle her laugh. The sound caught Balthier's attention, and his head swiveled towards her.

"You ought to be in bed," he said with a sheepish grin, a bit embarrassed to have been caught practicing his subpar storytelling. "We were trying to let you sleep."

"I woke up and you were both gone," she said. "I got curious. You sounded like you were up to something."

"We were," he said. "Man-to-man bonding. A touch ruined now that he's decided to doze off once again. I suppose I should be grateful that, if nothing else, I've a talent for putting him to sleep with my storytelling." He braced the baby against his chest, rising carefully from his chair to as not to disturb him. "Milo's learning to mind his manners and give his mama a bit of a respite every now and then."

Penelo snickered. "I appreciate the sentiment. But I think it's bedtime for all of us." She touched his shoulder as he neared, and rose onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "Besides, I sleep better when you're there."

"You'll sleep even better when we're back in Archades and we can hire a proper nanny for him," Balthier said as he ushered her back up the corridor. "You're running yourself into the ground."

"He won't be this small for long," she said. "I want to spend all the time I can with him."

"And you'll enjoy it all the more when you're well-rested. At this point, you need you naps just as badly as he does – you nodded off in the middle of dinner tonight. It'll be better for both of you if you have just a little help. Maybe for a few hours in the afternoon, so that you can get some rest in before he caterwauls the night through." He carefully pried the snoozing infant from his chest and laid him in Penelo's waiting arms.

Balthier climbed back into bed as Penelo brushed a kiss to their son's forehead and settled him back in his cradle. Milo squirmed a bit as his back touched the cool mattress, his mouth twisting into a pout and his lower lip quivering in preparation for a wail. But Penelo gave the cradle a gentle push, and it began a slow and steady rocking rhythm, and his fretting subsided marginally. A gentle tap to the wind chimes that hung above the cradle set off a soft cascade of sweet musical notes, and within moments, he'd nodded off to the sound.

Penelo climbed into bed beside Balthier, sighing as she tucked her head against his shoulder and draped her arm over his chest. "How does it end?" she asked.

"Hmm?"

"Your story. The one you were telling Milo. How does it end?"

"Ah." His fingers threaded through her hair, combing out the tangles. He laid his free hand over hers, flattening over his chest. "Like all the best ones do, darling. With happily ever after."