Pirates do not love...

[xbalthierx.livejournal.com]

Characters: Balthier and Fran
Progress: Complete
Summary: Fran drops a bomb on Balthier
Location: Their newly named airship, Decadance
Date: June, 1803
Warnings: Semi-wibbles and hinted angst


There were a few benefits to this airship. Okay, so she was no Strahl, and she really wasn't all that pretty, even if Fran's paint job had worked well, and there was a lot to be said against her... ...wait, what was the point again? Oh, yes. This airship had a few things going for her. Size was actually a benefit now. There was a lot more room for them all, he, Fran and Nono, to live aboard without even seeing each other all day. There was also a deck on which you could sit out in the open air without the threat of falling. And then there was the kitchen. It was a larger room than their last. Now they finally have a bathroom, it's quite homey, actually.

Having figured out how to make the steam engine run on its own, without a pilot, Balthier was currently sat on the outside deck, while the airship hovered in the air, refusing to move, just drifting with the wind. He was contemplating how to create electricity without, well, electricals. Because then, the airship would fly herself to places and that was helpful. A very helpful feature indeed.

Fran had been putting the finishing touches to the crib for Ashe and a miniature bed for Nono - a perfect moogle-sized bed. Once she had tidied away her tools and most of the mess, she made her way to the deck, standing in the breeze to let the sawdust blow from her hair, shaking her head to get it from her ears too.

Balthier was standing against the railing, grasping it with his ringed fingers, enjoying the breeze against his face, whipping at his shirt. Closing his eyes, he smiled slightly, just listening to the sounds the sky made. It was like a voice to him, singing, speaking... just pure bliss. He could stand out here all day, really, just listening.

Fran moved over to Balthier, resting a hand against his shoulder, laying her head against his. It warmed her heart to see him so much at ease. "She speaks?" She whispered, keeping her head against his.

"Nothing particular. No storms, nothing bad on the winds. Just... calm. Serene." The way he liked the sky to be. Smiling a little brighter at the Viera, he tapped his rings against the railing he grasped. "Have you completed the box for the Princess' baby? I do find it rather inhume to put it in a box." He smirked playfully at her, trying to ensure she understood he was joking.

"Do not worry. I placed airholes in the lid," she replied. If Balthier could joke, she could too. "Besides, I am not Hume." A smirk of her own met that of Balthier's, almost a challenge.

"Oh? You put your young in boxes, Viera?" He chuckles softly, nudging her hip with his own. "There I though you were trying to submerge yourself in the Hume world. If I recall, the last visit you made to your birth place was the last. Or so you'd said. Well, the last time after the first last time."

"But of course we do. The males do not even get airholes." She nudged him back, resting her hands on the railings. "I have left the path of the Wood behind. The Sky is where my heart now lies."

Balthier laughed and shook his head, drumming his fingers again, to repeat the ringing of jewellery on railing. "Your wit never ceases to amuse me, Fran." He smiled softly to her before hooping up to sit on the railing, facing her. Entirely in the most dangerous fashion.

Fran placed herself between his knees, on hand either side of his legs, resting on the railing. She had every confidence in him not to fall, after all, they had spent many hours out on the Strahl's wings mid-flight and this was a lot safer.

Balthier smiled at her, squeezing her sides affectionately with his knees. "You know... I've been thinking about a name for the airship. What do you think of... Nirvana? Or... perhaps the Decadance?" He gave a slight shrug, brushing one hand through his cropped sandy hair.

Fran's hands moved from the rail to stroke along Balthier's thighs. She gave a slight nod. "Both are good names. Though, I believe that 'Decadance' is most suited, given who her captain is."

Balthier paused for a split second when her hands found his thighs and a slight laugh escaped him at her words. "Oh? You think I have decadance? How sweet." He knew full well what she was implying but he wasn't going to deny it. "Then, the Decadance it is!"

Fran continued to stroke his thighs lightly. "Lets see... she has a captain, a co-pilot, a mechanic and a name. She is well on the way to being a fine ship."

"She just needs an engine ran on something, anything other that steam. I cannot stand to be inside the engine room longer than ten minutes." He shook his head slightly, still grasping the rail. "I might enjoy physical activities but I do not enjoy being able to smell my own odour."

Fran gave a slight laugh. "You often smell like that to me. Imagine what it is like for me in a room of men who are not as clean and well groomed as you. The Sadsea, for instance."

"I do?" He looked positively horrified by the idea, even going so far as to get a sniff of his armpit, finding the scent not far from the smell of soap. "Honestly... that is revolting... the thought of that much sweat in one place... ughhh..."

"Of course, it is often the natural scent of your skin I can smell. Soap can only mask it so well. It is a pleasant smell, however. You are most well cleaned."

"You really aren't making this better, Fran. Salt in a wound, my dear." He chuckled and gripped the railing tighter, before dangling back as far as his arms would allow.

"You realise if you fall, I shall not be cleaning up the mess, yes? And do not expect sympathy if you break your bone sbut survive. I shall give you none, Hume," Fran murmured, leaning over Balthier a little.

Balthier laughed and pressed one of his feet against her stomach, clad in the boots he'd bought. "Yet again, you forget, I am the Leading Man. He never dies. At least, not in silly ways like falling off an airship."

Fran curled her hand around Balthier's ankle, pulling it down, forcing the man to sit upright once more. "The ever immortal Leading Man, hm?" If only it were true...

"But of course," he murmured, leaning forward to nudge his own sleek nose against her button nose. "Never. Dies. That means not at all. Not even slightly."

Fran tilted her head slightly to capture his lips with her own. "I look forward to seeing you a hundred years from now, still playing the part of the Leading Man."

Balthier returned the kiss before leaning back again. "I shan't age, either. Not that much, at least. The day I look like my father, I'll shoot myself in the face."

"The defined wrinkles and the barrel? Or the madness within his eyes. Either way, you're well on the way there," Fran teased, prodding Balthier's stomach lightly.

Balthier gave a slight gasp, lifting his shirt to inspect the defined abdomen he sported. "That is pure muscle, Viera, and there is not a wrinkle on my face." He paused for a moment. "...the madness... well, they do say madness is the next best thing to sanity."

Fran gave a slight laugh. "I wouldn't have you any other way." She once more rested her hands on the railing, closing the gap between them again.

Balthier let his shirt down, stuffing the shirttails back in the waistband of his leather pants. It was difficult to do one handed with a Viera prowling at you. "After something, dear?"

"My attention bothers you?" Fran tilted her head a little, nudging her nose against his. "Do I make you ill at ease?"

"You do seem to forget the boundaries of personal space, but I am quite used to that now," he chuckled, curling one arm around her shoulders.

Fran stole another kiss, before pulling away slightly, moving to sit on the railing beside him rather than remain stood between his legs.

Balthier smiled, tapping his feet against the bar, finding it nice to just relax and talk with Fran like normal. "Do you know what I miss from Ivalice? Serpantwyne. It was such a foul drink but I couldn't help having a fondness for it..."

"Mm. But I do not miss the after effects; you truly are most unpleasant while suffering with a hangover." Fran curled her fingers around the rail, ensuring her claws didn't scrap it. "Though, I must admit, I do rather miss Bhujerban Madhu."

"I am not unpleasant, you are. The whole world is unpleasant to me when I have a hangover." He chuckled softly then nodded a little. "Bhujerban Madhu was such a fine drink..."

"Your temper is like that of a Cluckatrice guarding it's chick when your head is sore from drink," Fran replied, nudging Balthier lightly.

Balthier gave an indignant sniff and hopped from his seat to walk around the deck casually, almost as if he were parading himself for her sake. "I do not have a temper. I am the epitome of cool, calm and collected."

"Mm. Unless you have had a little too much to drink." The Viera watched Balthier intently, taking every detail of his graceful movement.

His hands found his hips as he walked, swaying them with a natural swagger that he had. A seductive saunter that was inherently his own. "You are in a mean mood. You are picking on me."

Fran gave a quiet laugh. "I apologise," she all but purred, watching him from beneath her lashes.

"You know what we need to do? Something big. To make our names in this place. I am tired of anonymity." He strode over to her, offering his hands.

Fran took hold of Balthier's hands. "And what do you suggest? Mayhaps we should steal something from the dear Queen, or is that not big enough?"

"That is certainly a glorious idea." He drew her from the railing, pressing one hand to her lower back as he began to waltz to music only he seemed able to hear.

Fran fell into rhythym with him, being guided by him to the silent music. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head resting on his shoulder,

"Hmm... I am so glad you are not like the others, Fran." He smiled, his voice soft as he spoke, easily leading her around the deck like it was a dancefloor.

"The others?" Fran asked, tilting her head a little to look at him as they danced.

"Those I have bedded. So many of them claim to fall in love with me. Claim I owe them something... and I can plainly see that my bed-hopping ways are frowned upon in this world... but you remain as ever. Never letting yourself swoon or fall head over heels. I admire that."

Fran swallowed hard, turning her gaze away slightly. "Of course. We are partners, after all, not lovers," she murmured, feeling like the words were choking her as she spoke them.

"Lovers, we are. We do, after all, have a sexlife together. Yet, I am so glad you aren't as easily swayed." Twirling her away, he chuckled and settled his hands on his hips. "I shan't ever fall in love. Messy business," he drawled, shaking his head.

Fran rose an eyebrow. "Not ever? Such words spoken in haste. What if one day you chance upon a woman, or man, that you could spend forever with... You would not allow yoursef to love?"

"Woman, man, hume, non-hume... whatever it may be, I won't fall in love. I will love. I love you, after all. You are my partner. Yet, falling in love is foolish." He shook his head again crossing his arms. "No, I shall not let myself fall into that trap."

Fran gave a nod and returned to the railing, curling her fingers around it once more as she glanced out across the sky. "Love is... a foolish game... yet it can be so wonderous too."

Balthier took a few slow steps closer before standing behind her, his arms curling around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Oh? Has the ever-stoic runaway Viera been in love during her timeless life?"

"Me? I am very much in love." Fran kept her eyes out over the horizon. "A Hume. From Ivalice. A Sky Pirate, in fact. Yet nothing shall ever come of it."

Balthier paused for a few seconds, keeping his arms around her. "A... Sky Pirate? Vaan? Or... another?" His stomach was aching just a little, almost like he was quite sure who she meant.

"Another. No matter. It is of no concern. I am invisible to him." The Viera leaned back against Balthier slightly.

Balthier frowned, looking away before he withdrew from her, crossing his arms. "I... I see." He glanced to his boots, frowning a little more.

"You seem troubled by this news," Fran stated, looking at Balthier over her shoulder. "I merely answered your question."

"I suppose should you manage to make this man notice you, and I expect it shan't be that difficult, I will be without a partner..." He gave her a slight, almost strained smile. "Well, I suppose I can hold interviews. That Selphie girl looks promising..."

"You think I would abandon you over something such as love? Do not worry, I am not going anywhere. Besides, he shall never notice me the way I notice him. It is a simple fact that cannot be changed."

"If you speak of love as being such, then would it not be right for you to be with whom you wish for?" He shifted slightly, a little awkward for the Leading Man. "I shan't stand in your way. If he does not notice you, then make him."

Fran moved over to Balthier, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I shall remain at his side and in his shadow, as I have for so long."

Balthier felt his eyes widen at that point. He knew exactly who she meant. Him. He swallowed thickly, mentally kicking himself for his earlier words. "Fran, I..." and then he fell silent. He simply did not have the words to answer that.

Fran shook her head. "Do not worry. You do not need to say anything. No apologies or explanation are needed. You live your life however you see fit, and I... shall stay at your side."

Balthier rested a hand on her waist, the other hanging idly by his side. "Fran... you... I..." he took a deep breath, "I am not sure what I must say here. This is not the same as any other... confession..."

Fran stroked his cheek softly. "You do not need to say anything. I have long lived with the fact you shall never be in love with me. And as such... partners is all I ask for."

He swallowed thickly, turning his gaze away, blinking a few times to stop any chance of tears even forming. He had never felt worse in his entire life. "Then... then partners it is." Balthier gave her waist a gentle pat before moving away, crossing his arms on the railings, staring out at the sky.

Fran joined him against the railing. "I do not wish for things to change. Look upon me as you always have, Balthier. Your love I shall never know, do not too shy your touch from me."

"I shy nothing, Fran. Allow me my time? I have much to think upon..." He gave her a rather sincere look, the only person ever getting to see it being her. "Please? Allow me that much?" He knew how selfish he was to ask that of her.

The Viera gave a nod. "Take as much time as you need. I shall always be here." She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his head.

Balthier sighed, tilting into her affection for the briefest moment. "Indeed..." His gaze fell to the ground floating away beneath them, the clouds obstructing the view. "Indeed, you are always here."

"Ever by your side as your partner I shall stand. Until the day you no longer need me, Balthier Bunansa, King of Sky."

"Not Bunansa. You know that now." He grumbled and shook his head, looking out at the sky. "Just... just Balthier."

"Balthier and Fran. Wayward Sky Pirates." The Viera smiled a little, leaning on the rail more.

Balthier grunted indignantly. "There is nothing wayward about me. I quite know my way. It is you they call wayward, Viera." He shook his head slightly.

Fran gave a light laugh, once more nudging Balthier's hip with her own. "I know my path."

"Ever destined to remain at the side of a godless, loveless man?" He shook his head slightly, looking away to cast his gaze over nothing at all.

"At least for his lifespan. Yes. It is the path I choose freely," Fran replied, looking out at the skies.

"My lifespan is never-ending, Fran. We spoke of this earlier. I never die. Not even a little." He sighed, resting his elbow on the railing, and his chin on his fist.

"Then until the end of my own life. I shall always follow in your shadow."

Balthier frowned, lowering his arm to the railing, his gaze finding the clouds again. "Then, forever."

"My life is not ever-lasting. I may surpass Humes, but eventually I too, shall pass." Fran reached out a clawed hand to toy with those sandy locks of Balthier's.

"Mm... but the Viera are timeless. Humes... we are not." He swallowed thickly, frowning a little more. "No, I am quite sure that we all shall potter our way through life, only to seek our death. Myself excluded, of course."

Fran gave a single nod, before holding her hand out to Balthier. "Care to leave the Sky's embrace for a short while to see my work?"

Balthier stood straight, stretching his arms before turning to stride inward, ignoring her hand, but not out of cruelty. Simply, he was sometimes to arrogant to notice.

Fran gave a sigh and let her hand drop to her side, following Balthier inside, moving to the area she had been working on th crib and the bed.

Balthier headed to where Fran had been working, smiling at the well-made objects. "They are very well crafted. Very nice," he drawled as he inspected the items.

"Do you think the Lady Ashe and Lord Rasler will be pleased with the results?" she asked, running her hand over the smooth wood. "And Nono, too, of course."

"I do believe so. They are very sturdy." He drummed his fingers against the wood, smiling softly. "They are indeed very well made. Impressive."

Fran gave a soft smile. Balthier's praise always meant a lot to her. "You expected anything less than perfect?"

"From you? Not at all." He smiled lightly before giving her a kiss on her cheek. "I wish to be alone for some time, now, dear. Would you grant me that?"

Fran gave a nod. "I understand." With that, she stood and made her way to the cockpit to leave Balthier alone.

Balthier once more returned to the deck, half tempted to just shout at the top of his voice to let out some stress. Still, he wasn't planning on it. That was hardly fitting of the Leading Man.