Categories > Games > Final Fantasy XII > Claret Sky
3. That which lives to fight
Balthier/Vaan, post-canon
Disclaimer still applies.
I'm still trying to breach the odd disjoint between short and long fics, since in shorts, every single word must count and mean a lot more than in longfics, where I like to let things start slowly and build. Please be patient? n.n
--
Larsa always knows where Vaan is.
Balthier watches the Emperor speak to Vaan, and he sees the small, fond smile. He is taller than Vaan, but he is slender, and Vaan seems to dwarf him.
Vaan says something, and Larsa laughs, a sharp sound, and he lays a hand on Vaan's arm.
Balthier turns away.
Archades is silent to the rest of Ivalice, but Ashe contacts them and tells them that a Judge Magister visits her court, eyeing those who may breathe too loudly with utmost suspicion, and she calls Vaan several names she has learned in the presence of sky pirates. The letter is delivered by Rikken, who smirks and says he envies Balthier's lively crew.
When Vaan expresses the desire to visit the Necrohol at Nabudis and asks Balthier to accompany him, Larsa insists on following. Balthier eyes Larsa's ill-fitting mail, scrounged out from the scraps that Balthier had not yet sold, and Larsa stares back, a mutinous set to his chin. Vaan shrugs and agrees, and Balthier heaves an exasperated sigh.
"Bah."
--
Vaan leads them into the Salikawood, and Balthier catches Fran's eye through the wide windows of the cockpit where the Strahl hovers. She nods, and his ship soars away.
They go through the Deadlands, where the Mist hangs heavy and impenetrable as it did years ago.
Vaan goes out of his way to walk ahead, engaging and cutting down the undead warriors roaming the land before they can approach Larsa. Balthier wonders at Vaan's goals, watching him splash through the marsh to rouse monsters that would not otherwise attack them, but when Vaan lets a half-destroyed fiend past him and Balthier raises the Fomalhaut, what he sees gives him pause.
Vaan stands still, eyes focussed and sharp as Larsa blocks a spear thrust and lunges forward, hacking into skeletal limbs with his borrowed sword.
Larsa takes a heavy slash to his side, and the healing spell that Vaan sends out is so immediate that he must have been preparing it well in advance.
Balthier fires on the zombie warrior creeping up behind Vaan, and the Fomalhaut's shot blasts its head apart. Balthier shrugs when Vaan blinks at him. He leans the barrel of his gun against his shoulder, and he waits as Vaan continues to train the Emperor.
--
Baknamy descend upon them in the Necrohol in shrieking waves, and Vaan takes so many hits for Larsa that Balthier thinks there is more blood on the ground than within the fool.
He does not have time to do anything other than cast healing spells over and over, and Balthier's hand begins to burn at the strain of concentrating magick.
Vaan shoulders through the beasts with blind, brute force. When they find the odd merchant who eyes them silently as he displays his wares, he hastily outfits Larsa with armour and ring, smelling of fresh magick, before rushing them back the way they came. Balthier considers protesting that the entrance to the Salikawood is much closer, but Vaan gives him a pleading look that sucks the breath from his lungs.
He thinks he knows why Vaan needs Larsa to be stronger, but he says dryly, when Larsa cannot hear, that Penelo would have been better suited to baby-sitting duty. Vaan scowls, and he stares at Balthier for a long time.
He watches Vaan rip viciously through an Oversoul after it knocks Larsa down, and he thinks the man is too much of a knight.
Vaan lets Larsa fight, once they reach the Deadlands, but then power presses a heavy hand against the back of Balthier's neck, and he spins to see Leamonde looming over him, churning angrily, before dark magick engulfs him and burns his throat. Balthier hisses, tenses, and prepares support magick, wishing he has brought another weapon.
Vaan shouts at him to leave it, and he takes Larsa's hand and runs.
--
Vaan is mulishly silent as he sits. Balthier knows his hands are not gentle as he tends to the remaining wounds, but he does not care. Vaan grits his teeth through Balthier's impatient lecture on the fouls of reckless behaviour, and he pushes away roughly when Balthier is finished wrapping potion-soaked bandages over Vaan's skin, reddened and irritated by repeated healing magick. Balthier watches him stalk away.
"He sees the people he could not protect in me."
Balthier looks back sharply. He has forgotten Larsa's presence in his frustration.
"This is neither the time nor the place for training missions. We must return you to Archades before your government seizes upon this chance to wage war against the rest of the continent."
"They will not admit that I am missing for some time. It will be seen as a weakness."
Balthier scowls. "Of course. The Empire cares for nothing but strength, and they will take it where they may find it."
Larsa's lips tighten, and when he speaks next, it is cold. "Odd, is it not, when the strong are exploited for being too strong."
--
The cockpit of the Strahl is dark, muted shadows falling dimly from the glow of magicite lighting the dashboard.
Balthier loves the night sky as much as the endless blue of the day. He flies, and the stars swallow him.
He does not hear the footsteps until Vaan is leaning over the seat.
Balthier glances back. "Enjoy the outing today?"
Vaan's eyes are luminous and too bright.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think I did not see your face as you fought?"
Vaan blinks slowly. He leans in, and his heat burns against Balthier's shoulder blade. He reaches out and flips the switch that allows the Strahl to cruise at constant altitude. Balthier sits still, waiting, and Vaan tugs at his cravat.
Breaths coil over Balthier's collarbone, and the taps of the tip of a tongue over his nape cause Balthier to dig his nails into the soft leather of his seat.
Balthier jerks away.
"I do not intend to indulge a vulgar, hormonal battle's high, Vaan," Balthier says, making to rise.
Strong arms snake over his chest, pressing him back into his seat, and lips brush over his ear.
"You didn't seem to have any trouble doing so that night."
"I sought to reach you that time, and you rejected my offer of help."
"I missed you."
The words are soft and short, but they roar in Balthier's ear in a dizzying confusion of fear and want and jealousy and despair, and when Vaan tugs his earring into his mouth and slides his hand under Balthier's vest, he cannot help the strangled noise he makes in the base of his throat.
He stands, spins Vaan around and shoves him down until his cheek flattens against the controls of Balthier's airship, and he rips at the laces holding the trousers at Vaan's hips.
Vaan looks up at him through lowered lashes, his breaths laying pale fog on the dials under him.
--
TBC
Balthier/Vaan, post-canon
Disclaimer still applies.
I'm still trying to breach the odd disjoint between short and long fics, since in shorts, every single word must count and mean a lot more than in longfics, where I like to let things start slowly and build. Please be patient? n.n
--
Larsa always knows where Vaan is.
Balthier watches the Emperor speak to Vaan, and he sees the small, fond smile. He is taller than Vaan, but he is slender, and Vaan seems to dwarf him.
Vaan says something, and Larsa laughs, a sharp sound, and he lays a hand on Vaan's arm.
Balthier turns away.
Archades is silent to the rest of Ivalice, but Ashe contacts them and tells them that a Judge Magister visits her court, eyeing those who may breathe too loudly with utmost suspicion, and she calls Vaan several names she has learned in the presence of sky pirates. The letter is delivered by Rikken, who smirks and says he envies Balthier's lively crew.
When Vaan expresses the desire to visit the Necrohol at Nabudis and asks Balthier to accompany him, Larsa insists on following. Balthier eyes Larsa's ill-fitting mail, scrounged out from the scraps that Balthier had not yet sold, and Larsa stares back, a mutinous set to his chin. Vaan shrugs and agrees, and Balthier heaves an exasperated sigh.
"Bah."
--
Vaan leads them into the Salikawood, and Balthier catches Fran's eye through the wide windows of the cockpit where the Strahl hovers. She nods, and his ship soars away.
They go through the Deadlands, where the Mist hangs heavy and impenetrable as it did years ago.
Vaan goes out of his way to walk ahead, engaging and cutting down the undead warriors roaming the land before they can approach Larsa. Balthier wonders at Vaan's goals, watching him splash through the marsh to rouse monsters that would not otherwise attack them, but when Vaan lets a half-destroyed fiend past him and Balthier raises the Fomalhaut, what he sees gives him pause.
Vaan stands still, eyes focussed and sharp as Larsa blocks a spear thrust and lunges forward, hacking into skeletal limbs with his borrowed sword.
Larsa takes a heavy slash to his side, and the healing spell that Vaan sends out is so immediate that he must have been preparing it well in advance.
Balthier fires on the zombie warrior creeping up behind Vaan, and the Fomalhaut's shot blasts its head apart. Balthier shrugs when Vaan blinks at him. He leans the barrel of his gun against his shoulder, and he waits as Vaan continues to train the Emperor.
--
Baknamy descend upon them in the Necrohol in shrieking waves, and Vaan takes so many hits for Larsa that Balthier thinks there is more blood on the ground than within the fool.
He does not have time to do anything other than cast healing spells over and over, and Balthier's hand begins to burn at the strain of concentrating magick.
Vaan shoulders through the beasts with blind, brute force. When they find the odd merchant who eyes them silently as he displays his wares, he hastily outfits Larsa with armour and ring, smelling of fresh magick, before rushing them back the way they came. Balthier considers protesting that the entrance to the Salikawood is much closer, but Vaan gives him a pleading look that sucks the breath from his lungs.
He thinks he knows why Vaan needs Larsa to be stronger, but he says dryly, when Larsa cannot hear, that Penelo would have been better suited to baby-sitting duty. Vaan scowls, and he stares at Balthier for a long time.
He watches Vaan rip viciously through an Oversoul after it knocks Larsa down, and he thinks the man is too much of a knight.
Vaan lets Larsa fight, once they reach the Deadlands, but then power presses a heavy hand against the back of Balthier's neck, and he spins to see Leamonde looming over him, churning angrily, before dark magick engulfs him and burns his throat. Balthier hisses, tenses, and prepares support magick, wishing he has brought another weapon.
Vaan shouts at him to leave it, and he takes Larsa's hand and runs.
--
Vaan is mulishly silent as he sits. Balthier knows his hands are not gentle as he tends to the remaining wounds, but he does not care. Vaan grits his teeth through Balthier's impatient lecture on the fouls of reckless behaviour, and he pushes away roughly when Balthier is finished wrapping potion-soaked bandages over Vaan's skin, reddened and irritated by repeated healing magick. Balthier watches him stalk away.
"He sees the people he could not protect in me."
Balthier looks back sharply. He has forgotten Larsa's presence in his frustration.
"This is neither the time nor the place for training missions. We must return you to Archades before your government seizes upon this chance to wage war against the rest of the continent."
"They will not admit that I am missing for some time. It will be seen as a weakness."
Balthier scowls. "Of course. The Empire cares for nothing but strength, and they will take it where they may find it."
Larsa's lips tighten, and when he speaks next, it is cold. "Odd, is it not, when the strong are exploited for being too strong."
--
The cockpit of the Strahl is dark, muted shadows falling dimly from the glow of magicite lighting the dashboard.
Balthier loves the night sky as much as the endless blue of the day. He flies, and the stars swallow him.
He does not hear the footsteps until Vaan is leaning over the seat.
Balthier glances back. "Enjoy the outing today?"
Vaan's eyes are luminous and too bright.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think I did not see your face as you fought?"
Vaan blinks slowly. He leans in, and his heat burns against Balthier's shoulder blade. He reaches out and flips the switch that allows the Strahl to cruise at constant altitude. Balthier sits still, waiting, and Vaan tugs at his cravat.
Breaths coil over Balthier's collarbone, and the taps of the tip of a tongue over his nape cause Balthier to dig his nails into the soft leather of his seat.
Balthier jerks away.
"I do not intend to indulge a vulgar, hormonal battle's high, Vaan," Balthier says, making to rise.
Strong arms snake over his chest, pressing him back into his seat, and lips brush over his ear.
"You didn't seem to have any trouble doing so that night."
"I sought to reach you that time, and you rejected my offer of help."
"I missed you."
The words are soft and short, but they roar in Balthier's ear in a dizzying confusion of fear and want and jealousy and despair, and when Vaan tugs his earring into his mouth and slides his hand under Balthier's vest, he cannot help the strangled noise he makes in the base of his throat.
He stands, spins Vaan around and shoves him down until his cheek flattens against the controls of Balthier's airship, and he rips at the laces holding the trousers at Vaan's hips.
Vaan looks up at him through lowered lashes, his breaths laying pale fog on the dials under him.
--
TBC
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