Categories > Games > Final Fantasy XII > Claret Sky
That which is left behind
0 reviews"Oh Fran," he says quietly, "dear Fran. I have been such a fool."
0Unrated
11. That which is left behind
Bal/Vaan - post-canon
Disclaimers still apply.
Some plot, some melodrama, some healing. This really is a very weird story, even (to) for me.
--
Vaan does not look to have slept the next morning.
He is acerbic in his response to Penelo, who wonders why Ashe asks them to remain in Balfonheim until further notice, and his apology is stiff after, followed by a quick glance to Balthier.
Balthier bites into his apple and feigns ignorance.
He tells himself he is not gratified when they venture out onto the waterfront for supplies, and the stare that Vaan gives the sea pirate who approaches him again is icy.
"Right little snob, i'n't he?" the man mutters once Vaan is out of earshot.
Balthier gives him a cool look, and the man hurries off.
"I don't see yer name on 'im."
--
Raz fetches Balthier the following day and tells him that he is needed in Reddas' study.
He hears footsteps in the corridor as he approaches the study. They falter when Vaan turns the corner and sees him.
The dark smudges under Vaan's eyes are even more pronounced now.
"Are you ill?" Balthier asks.
He sees Vaan's jaw ripple, and the man brushes past. "Leave me alone, Balthier."
"Pardon me, I'm sure," Balthier snaps before he can suppress it. "Far be it for me to show concern when you look half-dead."
Vaan whips around, and for a moment, Balthier thinks he is about to reach for his weapon.
"What are you two doing?" Penelo says as she slips past them and pushes open the door to the study.
There is a heavy silence before Vaan turns and follows Penelo into the room. "Nothing," he says through gritted teeth.
Ashe nods to them when they enter. Larsa sits at her side, quiet and composed but for the faint tapping of his fingers against the table and the distant frown on his face.
Balthier feels his hands twitch at the sight of Al-Cid Margrace on Ashe's other side. The man manages to lounge, even in a tall, straight-backed chair, and a stray curl falls over his dark glasses.
He sees Vaan hesitate, glancing at Larsa, before taking the seat across from Margrace instead.
"As we are all aware," Ashe says, looking at each of them in turn, "Larsa established the Council of Archades several years ago to take place of the dissolved Senate, yet it seemed as if the members, once trust-worthy citizens, immediately set into motion plans to wrest away control of Archadia. It seems they sought strength, and they wished to use that possessed by Vaan."
Vaan is staring down at his hands, clasped on the table before him.
"Through your efforts, we had managed to reclaim Archades, and Larsa replaced the... removed Council members with those known to be loyal."
Balthier glances at Ashe upon her pause, and she makes an apologetic grimace before continuing.
"Yet, within weeks, the situation seemed to worsen, and the new Council threatened Larsa in an attempt to force an attack on Giruvegan." Ashe leans back now, and she scowls. "The question is, what could this all mean?"
"Tch," Margrace says. "A most troubling situation."
"And one that is most obvious, I should hope," Balthier says, tilting his head to look at Margrace. "The Council is being controlled by an outside force that has access to all its members, new and old."
There is a twitch to Margrace's lips, and he inclines his head. "Just so," he says.
Balthier narrows his eyes.
"We must ask who it could be," Larsa says. "And why target Giruvegan? Why Archades?"
"Yes," Margrace says, leaning forward to tug off his dark glasses and pointing a corner of the eyepiece toward Vaan. "The interesting question is, of course, why our heroic young friend? What does he have to offer that those in control sought him out so fervently?"
Balthier watches Vaan raise his head to meet Margrace's half-lidded gaze.
--
Balthier grows weary of Balfonheim before the month is out. The scent of the sea is thoroughly woven through the thread of his clothing, the coarse voices of the pirates grate upon his ears, and he looks up at the white clouds above and wishes for the sky.
Ashe leaves them soon after the meeting, from which they derived more questions than answers, but Margrace stays. His aide hovers, and Balthier begins to grind his teeth when he hears the man's accented voice.
He is more often than not speaking to Vaan, who plays a childish game of avoidance, now, with both Larsa and Balthier.
It is offensively humid in the port town one night, and Balthier cannot explain the source of his agitation. He walks, hoping to find relief in the ocean breeze, and he does not hear the murmur of conversation before he rounds the corner and sees figures outlined in the soft light of burning lamps. He steps back quickly, without thinking, and then he recognizes the voices.
"...not exactly what I had in mind," Vaan is saying.
There is a husky chuckle, and Margrace speaks, his tongue curving even more around his words in his quiet. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"Relax, Vaan. You'll not need be so prickly."
There is a pause. "Is this another 'desert rose' joke?" Vaan says, and his voice is dry but amused.
Margrace laughs.
Balthier waits until the voices have moved and the footsteps are faded before he reaches out and smashes the vase standing on the table beside him.
Water slides underfoot as he walks out of the manse.
--
Fran finds him in the Sochen Cave Palace, emptying his gun into the neck of a Wendigo.
She says nothing, only crossing her arms and leaning against the wall behind her with muted clicking of her claws. She watches as Balthier feeds shot into the chamber of the Fomalhaut.
"You needn't say it," Balthier says shortly.
Fran tilts her head, her amber eyes unblinking.
"Yes, I knew full well the extent of the damage, and it was my choice. I have none other than myself to blame."
A Striker takes a shot to the jaw, and it shatters into an ugly mess before the beast falls on its back. Balthier treads on its limp arm as he passes. The smell of gunpowder is sharp in Balthier's nose.
"It was perhaps arrogant of me to assume that I could recover that part of him that the years seem to have stripped away. I can't even be sure that it resides still within him, or that he may wish for its retrieval. Perhaps it's easier, shutting the past away."
Balthier shoves his way through an ancient, creaking door.
"It was most certainly ridiculous of me to anticipate a reward for my efforts. Though perhaps a word of thanks would not have been remiss. It has only been months of my life spent on yet another quest to save Ivalice from the ravages of war. In fact, I quite enjoyed my stint in prison."
Balthier kills an Abysteel, its shriek near drowned out by the echo of his fire, and while it spirals down to the ground, there is the hard crunch and the metallic scent of ice magick.
Balthier looks around. Fran lowers her arm and regards him again, while the Imp that has tried to spit him from behind thumps down and bounces off a jagged rock.
Balthier pulls his brows tight together. "Oh Fran," he says quietly, "dear Fran. I have been such a fool."
--
TBC
Bal/Vaan - post-canon
Disclaimers still apply.
Some plot, some melodrama, some healing. This really is a very weird story, even (to) for me.
--
Vaan does not look to have slept the next morning.
He is acerbic in his response to Penelo, who wonders why Ashe asks them to remain in Balfonheim until further notice, and his apology is stiff after, followed by a quick glance to Balthier.
Balthier bites into his apple and feigns ignorance.
He tells himself he is not gratified when they venture out onto the waterfront for supplies, and the stare that Vaan gives the sea pirate who approaches him again is icy.
"Right little snob, i'n't he?" the man mutters once Vaan is out of earshot.
Balthier gives him a cool look, and the man hurries off.
"I don't see yer name on 'im."
--
Raz fetches Balthier the following day and tells him that he is needed in Reddas' study.
He hears footsteps in the corridor as he approaches the study. They falter when Vaan turns the corner and sees him.
The dark smudges under Vaan's eyes are even more pronounced now.
"Are you ill?" Balthier asks.
He sees Vaan's jaw ripple, and the man brushes past. "Leave me alone, Balthier."
"Pardon me, I'm sure," Balthier snaps before he can suppress it. "Far be it for me to show concern when you look half-dead."
Vaan whips around, and for a moment, Balthier thinks he is about to reach for his weapon.
"What are you two doing?" Penelo says as she slips past them and pushes open the door to the study.
There is a heavy silence before Vaan turns and follows Penelo into the room. "Nothing," he says through gritted teeth.
Ashe nods to them when they enter. Larsa sits at her side, quiet and composed but for the faint tapping of his fingers against the table and the distant frown on his face.
Balthier feels his hands twitch at the sight of Al-Cid Margrace on Ashe's other side. The man manages to lounge, even in a tall, straight-backed chair, and a stray curl falls over his dark glasses.
He sees Vaan hesitate, glancing at Larsa, before taking the seat across from Margrace instead.
"As we are all aware," Ashe says, looking at each of them in turn, "Larsa established the Council of Archades several years ago to take place of the dissolved Senate, yet it seemed as if the members, once trust-worthy citizens, immediately set into motion plans to wrest away control of Archadia. It seems they sought strength, and they wished to use that possessed by Vaan."
Vaan is staring down at his hands, clasped on the table before him.
"Through your efforts, we had managed to reclaim Archades, and Larsa replaced the... removed Council members with those known to be loyal."
Balthier glances at Ashe upon her pause, and she makes an apologetic grimace before continuing.
"Yet, within weeks, the situation seemed to worsen, and the new Council threatened Larsa in an attempt to force an attack on Giruvegan." Ashe leans back now, and she scowls. "The question is, what could this all mean?"
"Tch," Margrace says. "A most troubling situation."
"And one that is most obvious, I should hope," Balthier says, tilting his head to look at Margrace. "The Council is being controlled by an outside force that has access to all its members, new and old."
There is a twitch to Margrace's lips, and he inclines his head. "Just so," he says.
Balthier narrows his eyes.
"We must ask who it could be," Larsa says. "And why target Giruvegan? Why Archades?"
"Yes," Margrace says, leaning forward to tug off his dark glasses and pointing a corner of the eyepiece toward Vaan. "The interesting question is, of course, why our heroic young friend? What does he have to offer that those in control sought him out so fervently?"
Balthier watches Vaan raise his head to meet Margrace's half-lidded gaze.
--
Balthier grows weary of Balfonheim before the month is out. The scent of the sea is thoroughly woven through the thread of his clothing, the coarse voices of the pirates grate upon his ears, and he looks up at the white clouds above and wishes for the sky.
Ashe leaves them soon after the meeting, from which they derived more questions than answers, but Margrace stays. His aide hovers, and Balthier begins to grind his teeth when he hears the man's accented voice.
He is more often than not speaking to Vaan, who plays a childish game of avoidance, now, with both Larsa and Balthier.
It is offensively humid in the port town one night, and Balthier cannot explain the source of his agitation. He walks, hoping to find relief in the ocean breeze, and he does not hear the murmur of conversation before he rounds the corner and sees figures outlined in the soft light of burning lamps. He steps back quickly, without thinking, and then he recognizes the voices.
"...not exactly what I had in mind," Vaan is saying.
There is a husky chuckle, and Margrace speaks, his tongue curving even more around his words in his quiet. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"Relax, Vaan. You'll not need be so prickly."
There is a pause. "Is this another 'desert rose' joke?" Vaan says, and his voice is dry but amused.
Margrace laughs.
Balthier waits until the voices have moved and the footsteps are faded before he reaches out and smashes the vase standing on the table beside him.
Water slides underfoot as he walks out of the manse.
--
Fran finds him in the Sochen Cave Palace, emptying his gun into the neck of a Wendigo.
She says nothing, only crossing her arms and leaning against the wall behind her with muted clicking of her claws. She watches as Balthier feeds shot into the chamber of the Fomalhaut.
"You needn't say it," Balthier says shortly.
Fran tilts her head, her amber eyes unblinking.
"Yes, I knew full well the extent of the damage, and it was my choice. I have none other than myself to blame."
A Striker takes a shot to the jaw, and it shatters into an ugly mess before the beast falls on its back. Balthier treads on its limp arm as he passes. The smell of gunpowder is sharp in Balthier's nose.
"It was perhaps arrogant of me to assume that I could recover that part of him that the years seem to have stripped away. I can't even be sure that it resides still within him, or that he may wish for its retrieval. Perhaps it's easier, shutting the past away."
Balthier shoves his way through an ancient, creaking door.
"It was most certainly ridiculous of me to anticipate a reward for my efforts. Though perhaps a word of thanks would not have been remiss. It has only been months of my life spent on yet another quest to save Ivalice from the ravages of war. In fact, I quite enjoyed my stint in prison."
Balthier kills an Abysteel, its shriek near drowned out by the echo of his fire, and while it spirals down to the ground, there is the hard crunch and the metallic scent of ice magick.
Balthier looks around. Fran lowers her arm and regards him again, while the Imp that has tried to spit him from behind thumps down and bounces off a jagged rock.
Balthier pulls his brows tight together. "Oh Fran," he says quietly, "dear Fran. I have been such a fool."
--
TBC
Sign up to rate and review this story