Concerning Rocks

Fran had been giving him that look of hers all the way through those waterways. The look that said “I know what you’re thinking”, with occasional additions of “you randy idiot” and “why do I put up with you, anyway?” Balthier had to admit that he’d not been especially circumspect in his curiosity about the boy – to one who knew him, at least, and if there was one soul left on the planet who truly did know him it was his Fran. He did, however, somewhat resent the occasional barely-heard sighs which fell from the Viera’s lips when she thought his interest was straying a little too far towards the purely physical. That was entirely uncalled-for, Balthier felt. And yes, Vaan was far from being unpleasant to look at and look Balthier did, but he was much more curious about the boy’s talent – both for getting into trouble, and for keeping him alive whilst he was in it. Considering their current situation (firmly ensconced in the Nalbina Dungeons, at least until his darling Fran discovered the way out), Balthier was hesitant to say that the boy had any talent at getting himself out of trouble. Thus far they seemed only to have found their way deeper into it. Considering that the boy had broken into the palace on his own, apparently from some secret entrance in Rabanastre itself, Balthier had half-expected to find that the boy was a one-trick chocobo; capable of thievery and running and not much else. Instead, he had been pleasantly – and somewhat bemusedly – surprised to find that Vaan was a fair hand with a sword, rarely ran from battle, and knew a significant amount of both white and black magicks. He’d also made the smart decision of investing in Libra, and so would occasionally yell comments such as, “This one’s weak to earth!” To which Balthier, of course, would inevitably find himself replying, “Your insight is phenomenal, boy, but if you would use your head for just a moment you might recall that none of us have anything with earth damage!” and subsequently wondering whether, as a child, the boy’s parents had replaced his head with a rock. A very pretty rock that would have left him entirely androgynous but for his lack of shirt, but a rock nonetheless. A rock who, he suddenly realised, he had allowed to go wandering through the Nalbina Dungeons on his own without giving a single thought to the type of trouble the idiot might end up in. Balthier knew some things about the – well, people was being generous – in this dungeon, and . . . and if he were honest with himself, this would be a perfect opportunity to find out whether Vaan always barrelled headlong into danger, or if he could show a modicum of sense. Evidence suggested the latter was not very likely, however, so it would also be an opportunity to observe whether the boy could get himself out of trouble. The sensible thing to do, from the standpoint of curiosity, would be to observe and possibly mock, but not interfere. Which, of course, was why he found himself not-quite-running out the door in search of Vaan’s too-pretty rock-like head. He’d rationalise it later.

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