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14. That which learns

Bal/Vaan - post-canon

Disclaimers still apply.

Gah, I've got to stop rambling before these things. I keep giving shit away. Anyway. A lot is revealed, this time.

--

"Bwaaah!"

The sound is loud and grating, and Balthier turns his head sharply. He swipes absently at the dribble of blood that leaks down his chin. The blizzard dies suddenly, once Leshach is disabled, and only shifting piles of snow scored by the clawing wind remain.

Balthier sees a mound shudder, far too much to be due to the settling of ice, and he raises his gun quickly. Snow bursts out, arcing damply in the air and clinging stickily to murky green scales.

"I thought I was dead for sure!"

Balthier groans, and the Fomalhaut drops heavily to his shoulder. "Oh, not you again."

"Balthier!"

Ba'Gamnan fumbles about the snow, digging his hands under the churned white. He freezes when the tip of the Zodiac Spear nudges his shoulder, and he stands slowly, still without a weapon.

"What are you doing here?" Vaan says, and his voice is hard. "I thought you were going to vanish yourself."

"I was. I am. Just... passing through. For perfectly legitimate reasons."

Ba'Gamnan's growl is oddly muted, and the Bangaa darts quick looks at Vaan, who makes an impatient noise in his throat before pulling his spear back. Vaan walks a short distance away before pausing, and he leans down to brush at the ragged snow underfoot.

The deference Ba'Gamnan shows is puzzling, and Balthier frowns.

"You fear him," he says. "You knew him when he worked with the Empire?"

Ba'Gamnan bares his teeth, his eyes slitted and wild. Balthier raises a brow, tapping his weapon gently against his collar, and Ba'Gamnan glares, but he subsides.

"Yes," Ba'Gamnan says, and it is a curt grunt.

"He captured you?"

"Hmph," Ba'Gamnan says, shaking snow from a clawed foot. "At first, yes. Then he helped me escape."

"Escape?" Balthier is truly surprised. "From Nalbina?"

Ba'Gamnan laughs, a coarse and guttural sound. "Nalbina! Ha! No, the price on my head was too large for Nalbina. They put me in the Pits, in the broken part of Archades. I was to fight for their entertainment until either I defeat a gauntlet or die." He shrugs. "It's how Bwagi and Rinok died. Then they tell me a Judge is going to take my place, and the boy massacres the fiends kept in the Pit Arena, pulls me out while those nobles are still scratching their heads. He tells me to go. Take Gijuk, and go."

Balthier stares. His jaw slackens, Ba'Gamnan shuffles restlessly, and he can only stare.

Ba'Gamnan grunts again. "Well, if that's all, I have got better things to do with my time than speaking with a bounty I cannot claim."

Ba'Gamnan turns away, trudging through the snow and swiping through mounds with his ponderous tail.

Vaan looks up when Balthier approaches. His eyes flick to Balthier, and away again.

"It was wrong," he says, his voice quiet but hard. "The Pits, the way they treated their prisoners. It was wrong."

He is cupping something that glitters and gleams in his hand, and it catches Balthier's eye.

Vaan's fingers tighten around the Leshach Halcyon, and he tucks it into a pouch. "Penelo would want it," he says by way of explanation. He tilts his head to look up at the peak of the Mount.

Balthier laughs.

He cannot do anything but laugh. He laughs for his folly, his regrets, his realization, his relief. He laughs until his stomach clenches and hysteria creeps in. He thinks he is going mad.

"Vaan," he says, finally, and his voice is hoarse and his mouth is twisted with too many thoughts. "You have been Vaan, all along."

The confused frown slowly clears, and Vaan looks at him with understanding. There is a crooked smile.

"Oh," Vaan says. His eyes are bright, even under the rubor of irritation from the lashing snow. "Yes. I know. It's something I've only realized recently, myself, after—" His voice cuts off abruptly, and he looks at Balthier hesitantly.

Balthier's jaw clicks with the force with which he shuts it.

After. Thanks to Margrace.

The words hang in the air, huge and unspoken.

He looks at Vaan, and he sees the pale eyes shutter.

"We should go back," Vaan says. His hand rests on Balthier's shoulder for a moment, friendly. Polite. Vaan turns away.

--

Margrace tells them that he has arranged an audience with the senior Acolytes, and Balthier is gracious as he nods his thanks. He does not speak as he leads them to the Hall of Light, and he does not listen to the soft voice as Margrace addresses Vaan.

He sees the distant looks the Kiltias give them, and a chill gathers in his gut.

"But why?" Larsa says, his voice high and thin, sounding a child again. "You who have always espoused peace. Why would you propose a war on Giruvegan?"

"It is the will of the gods," says an Acolyte. "They have appeared before us, and their command is clear." He touches his fingers together and closes his eyes. "Faram."

"What gods?" Fran says slowly.

"The High Pantheon." It is Ivaness who speaks, and Balthier looks, and he frowns. He sees the flinches to Ivaness's gentle eyes. Flickers of confusion dart over his face before the placid conviction returns. "They are led by the beautiful goddess on wings of glimmering gold."

Vaan inhales sharply, and he glances at Balthier, his eyes narrowed. "Ultima," he says, quietly.

"The Scions of Darkness," Balthier murmurs, nodding slightly. His hand clasps over Vaan's wrist, so tight that his fingers are white. He raises his voice. "Well, now, this has been quite an honour. I'm terribly glad that we've had the chance to have this talk, but so sorry, we must go." He tugs, and they begin to back away. Larsa's face is pale as he follows. "Please rest at ease; we can see ourselves out."

"If you ally not with the gods," Ivaness says, hollowly, as if he has not heard Balthier's speech, "then you are against us."

The Kiltias begin to stand, eyes agleam as if lit from within.

Balthier glances around at the worried faces surrounding him.

"Balthier," Fran says, a soft hiss.

He nods. "We run."

Balthier ignores the shouts behind them, putting out a hand to shove past a man who reaches for him as he runs past. "They are controlled by the same force as the Council members," he says through harsh breaths, taking the steps in pairs. "It does fit together nicely." He glances at Penelo. "You said the Council only recruited Vaan's services once they became aware that he had defeated an Occurian in the past. And who else would hold a deeper grudge against the Occuria than the servants they defeated and sealed?"

Penelo nods, and Larsa gives him a pained look.

The uproar spreads, and Vaan is there to block a swipe of a pole toward Balthier's head. He wrenches it away from the Kiltias with enough force that the man stumbles and loses his feet.

"They'll send soldiers after us," Vaan says, warning tight in his voice.

"Let them," Balthier says, and he looks sharply to Vaan. "Or would you kill them all?"

Vaan flinches, but he does not respond.

--

TBC