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“We’ll set down here for the night.”
Balthier looked out to the horizon, to Rabanastre, and saw the sky was empty; it was hard to imagine that only hours before there had been at war there, that they had been fighting for their lives. He turned away from the darkening sky to where Fran lay, quiet and still on the bunk.
“Are you asleep? Fran?” Half concerned, he moved to stand over her.
“I might have been, had your flying been smoother,” she said, eyes still closed, voice rough but unwavering. Balthier smiled wryly.
“I was opting for speed not grace. Grace is what I fly with you for.” Balthier reached to grab his flask from the chair and pressed it into her hand. “Here, drink.” He settled on the floor next to the bunk while she sat up to drink. “Cramped little thing, isn’t she?” he murmured, feeling his muscles protest.
“Are you missing the Strahl so soon?” Fran asked, sounding amused, “It was you who decided to play hero and leave her to Vaan.” He watched her drink, her white hair turned golden in the receding light. The cut on her temple was clearer now, the battered tissue and blood showing as a dark aberration.
“I remember,” he said. He shook his head, one corner of his mouth lifted in a fond half smile. “She’s probably looking worse for wear right now. It may be fortunate that I can’t see her.” Fran capped the flask and tossed it into his lap.
“You’ve wine in your flask. Perhaps I should be surprised?” She asked archly. Balthier shrugged.
“A man needs a strong drink sometimes. Fighting to stop a war just happens to be one of those times.” He sighed as the weariness finally set in. “I couldn’t have done it alone, Fran.”
“You would never have had to.” That was when it hit him, the enormity of what they had done. They both could have died there, been crushed as Bahamut fell in on itself. Or maybe Fran would never have woken up; he could have lost her, forever. But somehow, they were both here alive, together. He felt small, relieved, and lucky beyond belief.
The bruise was catching his eye again. It made her look fragile, vulnerable; he hated it. Balthier reached out and touched it carefully with his fingertips.
“You’re always causing me trouble,” he murmured, half to himself. Gently, she clasped his hand in her own; he hadn’t realised he was shaking.
“Balthier…”
Silently, he bent his head towards her. He could feel her breath, her warmth, her ears twitching in her concern for him; he had never been so grateful in his life. Balthier kissed her then, because he could. Because the war was over and they were alive; because he didn’t have to run from anything anymore. Her lips opened softly under his. He could feel her other hand curl on his neck, over his racing pulse. He kissed her; he didn’t want to stop kissing her.
Eventually, Fran broke the kiss, panting and flushed. There was a fine sheen of sweat on her skin.
“Fran?”
“A little dizziness, nothing more.” She gave him the smallest of smiles. “Worry not, Balthier.”
“I can’t help but worry for you. I can hardly change my nature now. Lie back, ” Balthier helped her return to rest in the bunk; it was a testament to how much she was not her usual self that she even let him.
“A leading man needs a damsel in distress,” Fran murmured. Balthier snorted and dropped his hand from her head to her hand, letting their fingers lace together, palm to pam. He didn’t think he could bear to stop touching her right now, even if he wanted to.
“You are hardly that, my dear. Save that for princesses and such. In fact, I think I could live a happy life if I never saw a grievous head wound on you again.”
“In a less dangerous line of work, perhaps,” Fran pointed out dryly.
“But then where would the fun be in that?” Balthier finished. He smiled at her, because they had always laughed in the face of danger, but was met instead with solemn red eyes and a mouth set in a serious line.
“There could be another life for you, Balthier. No more running.” Fran told him. Her eyes looked into his, piercing, seeing more than most. He met her eyes, just as serious, not willing to be beaten in stubbornness, especially regarding this.
“I like this life fine. I chose it myself.” He shrugged again. “I chose you, too.” He paused to take a deep breath and allowed the words that had lived in his heart for so long be said out loud. “I’ll be right here, for as long as you’ll have me.”
For the rest of my life, if I have any say in it.
Fran watched him a moment before at last shaking her head with a sigh.
“My silly sky pirate. My Balthier,” she murmured, a hint of a smile around her lips. He smiled.
“Yes, yours.” Balthier drew her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it soundly. “I think I rather like the sound of that.”