[Table three] [Final Fantasy XII] [Balthier/Basch]
Title: Two Sides, Invitation, Set Aside, Draw, Either Way
Author: twilightsrain/edenbound (ficjournal)
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Balthier/Basch
Table/Theme: III, 1-5
Rating: G-PG
Word Count: 127, 165, 148, 114, 128
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Squeenix owns the Final Fantasy series and all characters contained within.
01 -- Flip side -- Two Sides
Balthier finds Basch an interesting person to study: in battle, it's like there's another side to him, one that takes over, pushes him forward where normally he would step back in deference to Ashe. She, of course, is there and fighting too, but Basch pushes past her, taking blows that were meant for her, skewering monsters before she can get close. He's determined to protect her, perhaps, but Balthier sees something else in it, in the way that for a while after a skirmish Basch remains tense, breathing hard and sweating even in the coldest of climes. There's an element of berserk in Basch, even without Bacchus' Wine, and Balthier isn't sure if it scares him or just attracts him. A little of both, perhaps.
02 -- Red tape -- Invitation
"This, of course, is another reason why I would never have made a good judge," Balthier observes, gesturing at the desk covered in papers, all of it useless, all of it simply intended to prolong every process of law to the stupidest levels. "And of course, I suppose it will be worse now, with the judges having overstepped their bounds so many times under Vayne."
"There's good reason for it," Basch says, looking down at the desk; he doesn't think of Gabranth when he looks at it, now -- instead he thinks of Larsa, and his good intentions, and his good reasons, and nights spent doing paperwork he should probably have spent sleeping.
"I don't suppose I could steal you away for a night or two," Balthier says, his voice mocking-light to hide the potential opening; Basch, being a good swordsman, sees it anyway.
"I didn't suppose you would want to," he says, hoping the invitation is clear enough in his voice: do.
03 -- Shot down -- Set Aside
"I've seen you looking at me," Balthier says, close to his ear, so that Basch can feel his breath against his neck, so that he almost -- almost -- tips his head back to invite Balthier closer. He keeps his eyes forward, on Ashe, who sleeps curled up in a way that hardly befits her rank: it reminds him that he has a purpose, a place to get to, for her, and can't be distracted.
"I would advise you not to push this any further," he says, quietly, and he moves the whetstone over his blade quickly so that it squeals into the night, a clamorous, un-sweet sound to block out Balthier's presence.
"You can't set aside your desires all the time," Balthier says, though Basch can sense that he knows he's already lost.
"Save this for a time when I no longer have to, then."
04 -- Calling me home -- Draw
Balthier looks around at the familiar area, the familiar buildings, the almost-familiar people, and then he looks at Fran, his expression disgusted. "I don't know why I keep coming here now -- it's not home anymore."
"Is it not?" she asks, light amusement in her voice somewhere: she, at least, knows what draws Balthier back here again and again.
"It is not," he says, firmly, "though I suppose we should visit Lord Larsa and our friend while we're here."
"And you will spend some hours alone with our friend in the bedroom," Fran says, delicately, and before he can protest that that's not what he's here for at all, she's heading for a cab.
05 -- Hands are tied -- Either Way
"You realise I should be issuing warrants for your immediate arrest?" Basch asks, trying not to laugh at the innocent expression Balthier has cultivated. "I'm hardly the best person to come to when you need a safe place to hide."
Balthier shrugs slightly, his eyes promising all kinds of things if Basch will only stop being so damned honourable: "I trust you to make the right decision, Basch."
Basch looks at him for a long moment, weighing the options in his mind without any doubt of what he'll do -- give Balthier shelter and lose people's respect if he's caught out, or turning him in and losing what is between them: friendship and tentative relationship both.
"Either way," he murmurs, "my hands are tied, aren't they?"
Author: twilightsrain/edenbound (ficjournal)
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Pairing: Balthier/Basch
Table/Theme: III, 1-5
Rating: G-PG
Word Count: 127, 165, 148, 114, 128
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Squeenix owns the Final Fantasy series and all characters contained within.
01 -- Flip side -- Two Sides
Balthier finds Basch an interesting person to study: in battle, it's like there's another side to him, one that takes over, pushes him forward where normally he would step back in deference to Ashe. She, of course, is there and fighting too, but Basch pushes past her, taking blows that were meant for her, skewering monsters before she can get close. He's determined to protect her, perhaps, but Balthier sees something else in it, in the way that for a while after a skirmish Basch remains tense, breathing hard and sweating even in the coldest of climes. There's an element of berserk in Basch, even without Bacchus' Wine, and Balthier isn't sure if it scares him or just attracts him. A little of both, perhaps.
02 -- Red tape -- Invitation
"This, of course, is another reason why I would never have made a good judge," Balthier observes, gesturing at the desk covered in papers, all of it useless, all of it simply intended to prolong every process of law to the stupidest levels. "And of course, I suppose it will be worse now, with the judges having overstepped their bounds so many times under Vayne."
"There's good reason for it," Basch says, looking down at the desk; he doesn't think of Gabranth when he looks at it, now -- instead he thinks of Larsa, and his good intentions, and his good reasons, and nights spent doing paperwork he should probably have spent sleeping.
"I don't suppose I could steal you away for a night or two," Balthier says, his voice mocking-light to hide the potential opening; Basch, being a good swordsman, sees it anyway.
"I didn't suppose you would want to," he says, hoping the invitation is clear enough in his voice: do.
03 -- Shot down -- Set Aside
"I've seen you looking at me," Balthier says, close to his ear, so that Basch can feel his breath against his neck, so that he almost -- almost -- tips his head back to invite Balthier closer. He keeps his eyes forward, on Ashe, who sleeps curled up in a way that hardly befits her rank: it reminds him that he has a purpose, a place to get to, for her, and can't be distracted.
"I would advise you not to push this any further," he says, quietly, and he moves the whetstone over his blade quickly so that it squeals into the night, a clamorous, un-sweet sound to block out Balthier's presence.
"You can't set aside your desires all the time," Balthier says, though Basch can sense that he knows he's already lost.
"Save this for a time when I no longer have to, then."
04 -- Calling me home -- Draw
Balthier looks around at the familiar area, the familiar buildings, the almost-familiar people, and then he looks at Fran, his expression disgusted. "I don't know why I keep coming here now -- it's not home anymore."
"Is it not?" she asks, light amusement in her voice somewhere: she, at least, knows what draws Balthier back here again and again.
"It is not," he says, firmly, "though I suppose we should visit Lord Larsa and our friend while we're here."
"And you will spend some hours alone with our friend in the bedroom," Fran says, delicately, and before he can protest that that's not what he's here for at all, she's heading for a cab.
05 -- Hands are tied -- Either Way
"You realise I should be issuing warrants for your immediate arrest?" Basch asks, trying not to laugh at the innocent expression Balthier has cultivated. "I'm hardly the best person to come to when you need a safe place to hide."
Balthier shrugs slightly, his eyes promising all kinds of things if Basch will only stop being so damned honourable: "I trust you to make the right decision, Basch."
Basch looks at him for a long moment, weighing the options in his mind without any doubt of what he'll do -- give Balthier shelter and lose people's respect if he's caught out, or turning him in and losing what is between them: friendship and tentative relationship both.
"Either way," he murmurs, "my hands are tied, aren't they?"