Categories > Games > Final Fantasy XII > Claret Sky
15. That which knows
Balthier/Vaan - post-canon
Disclaimers still apply.
Another quite short interlude and a less depressing one.
--
Balthier hides the Strahl in the Estersand and remembers the Aerodrome fondly.
He checks the anchor, tugging at the mooring sharply, and he sees a flicker of light.
Vaan sits on the steps leading to the Barheim passage. He holds his sword loosely in his hand and leans it against his knee. It catches the sun as he twists it, and he stares down at it, flashes of its reflection touching his face.
Balthier wonders what new morose thought he sees on the blade's surface.
There is a Tiny Bug snapping at Vaan's feet, raking ineffectually at the plate over his heel, and he raises his sword, tilting it so that the edge will catch the monster's glittering carapace when it drops. He pauses.
It is slight, but Balthier sees the widening of his eyes.
Vaan lowers the sword and nudges the Tiny Bug aside as he stands.
--
Imperial soldiers patrol Rabanastre for the first time in six years, and Balthier catches sharp looks. He crosses his arms and glances around with a disdainful twist to his mouth, and he feels their watchful eyes.
Margrace offers to bring them to the palace, but Vaan shakes his head and says they are too large and diverse a crowd to avoid attention. The man tsks and smiles, tilting his head to regard Vaan over his dark glasses.
Balthier turns away, stepping into the shadows laying down the dusty steps to Lowtown.
The Dalmascans ignore him, and Balthier tilts his head back. He looks at the grime overhead and he exhales.
--
Balthier shoots a Lizard in its bulbous breast. He grimaces when it bursts and sends foul-scented ooze sliding into the water channel by its side.
The sound of rushing water is loud, and it slops over Balthier's boot when he stops walking.
Penelo is standing still, looking back the way they came.
Balthier turns, and he sees the stiff set to Larsa's shoulders and the dark scowl to his face. When he speaks, it is through clenched teeth.
Vaan lowers his head, but he shakes it.
They are alike, Balthier thinks, in their stubbornness.
"Leave them be," he says, quietly.
Penelo's eyes are dark, but she smiles, and it is warm. "Yeah, they'll be fine."
--
Ashe is waiting for them when they exit the Garamsythe Waterway, Margrace at her side, and her lips twitch as she says that the rats are growing frightfully in size over the years.
Penelo laughs, and Vaan shrugs damply, dripping still from the Water Elemental that had taken offense at his passing.
"How fares Dalmasca?" Balthier says.
The thought is sobering, and Ashe furrows her brow. "Well as can be," she says. "We avert hostilities through promises of aid in the capture of the assassins—" here she gives them a hard look "—but Rozarria..."
"The Empire is as it always has been," Margrace says, flicking a fast hand. "It looks too eagerly upon war. I, of course, agree little with such policies, and I do my part, my lady."
Ashe inclines her head. "Although Dalmasca remains safe, even under scrutiny, it is you who must take care. The soldiers searching for you are close to an Imperial fleet in number. Can you be sure of yourself?"
Balthier raises his brows.
Ashe gives him a dry look. "There are times in which even the leading man must take caution. Where do you go now?"
"Giruvegan." It is Larsa who answers. "The Occuria cannot be unaware of the plots of the Scions of Darkness. They will tell us where to seek out the Scions." He pauses, and he frowns. "I will stay in Rabanastre," he says, after a moment. "I may be able to help with negotiations in a hidden capacity."
Ashe turns surprised eyes from Larsa to Vaan. The man shrugs, his shoulder barely brushing Larsa's.
--
Mist hums through Balthier's hands as he twists the skystone brackets back into the Strahl's glossair engine. He wipes congealed magickal residue from his fingers onto a heavy rag, and he touches the burnished metal fondly.
"I've asked a lot of you, lately," he murmurs. "Are you ready for another trip, girl?"
The Strahl's purr deepens a moment, and he reads her response in the energy that seeps through her frame.
Boots clank over the panelling of the floor in the engine room, and Balthier glances up.
Vaan stands crookedly, his hands slipped into his pockets and one shoulder dipped in a slouch. Balthier wonders briefly how the man was ever able to adhere to the stiff formalities of an Imperial Judge, and he imagines strict sessions upon etiquette. The thought makes him smile.
Vaan tilts his head, and slowly, he smiles back.
--
TBC
Balthier/Vaan - post-canon
Disclaimers still apply.
Another quite short interlude and a less depressing one.
--
Balthier hides the Strahl in the Estersand and remembers the Aerodrome fondly.
He checks the anchor, tugging at the mooring sharply, and he sees a flicker of light.
Vaan sits on the steps leading to the Barheim passage. He holds his sword loosely in his hand and leans it against his knee. It catches the sun as he twists it, and he stares down at it, flashes of its reflection touching his face.
Balthier wonders what new morose thought he sees on the blade's surface.
There is a Tiny Bug snapping at Vaan's feet, raking ineffectually at the plate over his heel, and he raises his sword, tilting it so that the edge will catch the monster's glittering carapace when it drops. He pauses.
It is slight, but Balthier sees the widening of his eyes.
Vaan lowers the sword and nudges the Tiny Bug aside as he stands.
--
Imperial soldiers patrol Rabanastre for the first time in six years, and Balthier catches sharp looks. He crosses his arms and glances around with a disdainful twist to his mouth, and he feels their watchful eyes.
Margrace offers to bring them to the palace, but Vaan shakes his head and says they are too large and diverse a crowd to avoid attention. The man tsks and smiles, tilting his head to regard Vaan over his dark glasses.
Balthier turns away, stepping into the shadows laying down the dusty steps to Lowtown.
The Dalmascans ignore him, and Balthier tilts his head back. He looks at the grime overhead and he exhales.
--
Balthier shoots a Lizard in its bulbous breast. He grimaces when it bursts and sends foul-scented ooze sliding into the water channel by its side.
The sound of rushing water is loud, and it slops over Balthier's boot when he stops walking.
Penelo is standing still, looking back the way they came.
Balthier turns, and he sees the stiff set to Larsa's shoulders and the dark scowl to his face. When he speaks, it is through clenched teeth.
Vaan lowers his head, but he shakes it.
They are alike, Balthier thinks, in their stubbornness.
"Leave them be," he says, quietly.
Penelo's eyes are dark, but she smiles, and it is warm. "Yeah, they'll be fine."
--
Ashe is waiting for them when they exit the Garamsythe Waterway, Margrace at her side, and her lips twitch as she says that the rats are growing frightfully in size over the years.
Penelo laughs, and Vaan shrugs damply, dripping still from the Water Elemental that had taken offense at his passing.
"How fares Dalmasca?" Balthier says.
The thought is sobering, and Ashe furrows her brow. "Well as can be," she says. "We avert hostilities through promises of aid in the capture of the assassins—" here she gives them a hard look "—but Rozarria..."
"The Empire is as it always has been," Margrace says, flicking a fast hand. "It looks too eagerly upon war. I, of course, agree little with such policies, and I do my part, my lady."
Ashe inclines her head. "Although Dalmasca remains safe, even under scrutiny, it is you who must take care. The soldiers searching for you are close to an Imperial fleet in number. Can you be sure of yourself?"
Balthier raises his brows.
Ashe gives him a dry look. "There are times in which even the leading man must take caution. Where do you go now?"
"Giruvegan." It is Larsa who answers. "The Occuria cannot be unaware of the plots of the Scions of Darkness. They will tell us where to seek out the Scions." He pauses, and he frowns. "I will stay in Rabanastre," he says, after a moment. "I may be able to help with negotiations in a hidden capacity."
Ashe turns surprised eyes from Larsa to Vaan. The man shrugs, his shoulder barely brushing Larsa's.
--
Mist hums through Balthier's hands as he twists the skystone brackets back into the Strahl's glossair engine. He wipes congealed magickal residue from his fingers onto a heavy rag, and he touches the burnished metal fondly.
"I've asked a lot of you, lately," he murmurs. "Are you ready for another trip, girl?"
The Strahl's purr deepens a moment, and he reads her response in the energy that seeps through her frame.
Boots clank over the panelling of the floor in the engine room, and Balthier glances up.
Vaan stands crookedly, his hands slipped into his pockets and one shoulder dipped in a slouch. Balthier wonders briefly how the man was ever able to adhere to the stiff formalities of an Imperial Judge, and he imagines strict sessions upon etiquette. The thought makes him smile.
Vaan tilts his head, and slowly, he smiles back.
--
TBC
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