Disclaimer: JKR and Square own the rights to all characters contained herein.

Embracing Absurdism
And he made me feel excited… well, excited and scared.

"Please, Princess. You must permit me to take you back with me to Rozarria."

Ashe immediately gained a mulish look, jaw set. "So that you can protect me? I'm no damsel in distress, Al-Cid."

Harry was vaguely hypnotized by Balthier's impatient finger tapping against his hip, more for comfort than support. He was totally exhausted, but a Cure from Penelo had done wonders for his physical state. His shoulder was still stiff, he wanted to sleep more than he'd wanted anything in a long while, but he tried to keep his mind on the ongoing conversation between royalty.

Al-Cid had started out well, casual, asking Ashe non-threatening questions. But Harry could only sigh as the man's impatience obviously got the better of him as he segued clumsily into the heart of the matter.

And just as they had thought, Ashe shot it down.

Harry watched the frown settle on Al-Cid's face before he forced it off, dipping low and grasping Ashe's hand. "I would lay down my life at a single word to be sure... but I harbor no maundering delusions of valiant grandeur." He held her hand tightly, and Ashe looked discomfited. "Vayne has our War Pavilion jumping at shadows. They favor a pre-emptive strike. But you - you will convince them otherwise. You will see that they do not start this war."

Balthier's hand left his hip, and Harry couldn't help a frown as Penelo took up the task of keeping him upright, her much smaller frame pulling him close. Balthier gave an arch look to the pair. "I am sure this is entirely selfless on your part."

"No," Al-Cid said plainly. "I am an honest man, and this is most certainly just as selfish as it is altruistic. This endless bickering has harmed my people as well, driven wedges between my family members, and I wish for it to end. There is no happiness in store for Archades, Rozarria, or Dalmasca if this goes to open war. I beg this of the Princess for us all, myself included."

Harry tried to ignore the vaguely ill, clawing sensation in his gut that had suddenly appeared since Balthier had stepped away to focus instead on Ashe extracting her hand from Al-Cid. "This I cannot do. Forgive me. But my errand here is not yet done. I must wield the Sword of Kings, and with it bring an end to the Dusk Shard."

Harry gritted his teeth, catching the way that Ashe very specifically avoided his eyes. Penelo's arm around him tightened, and he glanced back to see a deep, worried frown adorning her face. She felt the same, at least.

"More talk of stones, then," Al-Cid said with a barely veiled sneer. "Where would you even find such a thing?"

"I can venture a guess." Balthier strode to Ashe's side, slipping on a cocky smirk that made Harry's innards boil. "Draklor Laboratory in Archades; the Empire's weapon's research begins and ends there. How soon do we leave?"

"Truly?" Harry spat, irritated and ruffled for reasons he only understood half of. "We're just all going to jump on the 'get a rock for power' train?" A few confused looks from his party made clear that they had no idea what a train was, but he ignored it. "You're all being utter idiots!"

Ashe puffed up with righteous rage then, Balthier's hand on her shoulder keeping her from charging towards him. "What right do you have to judge? You have no stake here! You don't even come from this world, Harry. Like the Gran Kiltas said, you're rearranging things without having any idea of the ramifications. This stone is the only chance I have to set things right! The stone has nothing to do with power, and everything to do with freeing my people from tyranny. You will not stand in my way because you have some kind of half-formed opinions on a world you know nothing about!"

It stung, deeply, and Harry reeled back, dislodging Penelo's hands from him. When he responded it was slowly, in a low voice, and his eyes stayed on the floor. "I only have what I see to go on. And what I see is someone making short-sighted decisions that are going bite her in the arse. Go to Archades, if that really seems the best path to you, but you are making a mistake. You have just been offered an alternative course, a way to have allies in your fight. A way to avoid bloodshed for his people and your people. Why are you so against giving a chance to that path?"

Harry glanced up at Balthier as he finished speaking, angry at him for no reason he could discern. Balthier flinched at whatever the look Harry gave looked like to receive. He then looked away, grim and serious, but he dropped his hand from Ashe's shoulder.

Basch had been silent through the exchange, but stepped forward now. "My lady, though I will follow no matter what your path may be, may I suggest something?"

She shot a narrow-eyed look to him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Go on."

"Closing avenues, even dubiously proper ones," Basch glanced then at Al-Cid, who stood unflappable and smug, "would not be wise at this point in our venture. Perhaps we see through this trip to Archades first, and then we turn our attentions to travel to Rozarria?"

Harry was disgruntled and was quite sure his expression showed it, but if he did not compromise he would be just as bad as Ashe was being. He gave a stiff nod when Basch looked his way, showing his agreement with this plan.

Ashe, on the other hand, just frowned. "Do you think that wise, Basch? What good would straying now bring us? We are so very close to our goal…"

"We have ideas, guesses, and possibilities. There is no goal truly in sight." Fran waved a hand dismissively.

Ashe continued frowning, but looked down at the ground, her frown turning contemplative rather than hostile.

"It wouldn't be too bad, right?" Vaan said, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I mean, it doesn't mean we have to do it his way, just that we're willing to try."

Ashe looked to the boy and softened, her arms dropping to her sides. She did not speak, but cut her eyes to Basch and nodded, once, succinctly.

Balthier clapped a hand to Basch's shoulder, chortling. "Well then, to Archades it is, then a long flight into the lovely deserts of Rozzaria. Fine spirits, fine women, and plenty of overflowing pockets to seek out." He turned towards Harry and smiled, but Harry couldn't bring himself to return it. He turned away, swaying slightly, focusing instead on the wall of the temple.

Al-Cid chuckled, but it was a dry sound. "So be it. Shall I send a ship to meet you? I cannot stay from our capital long, but I have sway over a few High Merchants who could be persuaded to lend their time."

Harry did not turn back when Balthier answered, but he saw the roll of Fran's eyes as he spoke. "No need. My ship is more than able to see us through when the time has come, you only need give me the coordinates for our rendezvous."

"And her designation? I would need to grant you clearance in our airs."

This time Harry did turn a bit, peeking past his errant fringe at the tense way Balthier held himself. "The Strahl."

A smirk was Al-Cid's only reaction. "Indeed, Sky Pirate. I thought that to be the case. I shall see to it that you are not impeded on your journey." With a snap of his fingers one of his assistants ran forward, clipboard raised like a shield. With a quick scribble she produced the needed coordinates for Balthier and handed them over, retreating without a word. "My leave I take. Princess. Emerald. Pirate. Good travels to you all."

Harry watched him leave, framed by the crumbling pillars at the entry and wreathed in sunset, then followed; he did not look back to see the concerned looks on the faces of several of his companions.

They set back up in the same alcove under the eaves, everyone quiet and stiff. There was little conversation as they worked to set up camp, everyone giving Harry a wide berth as he jabbed his wand this way and that, directing wood into the firepit and throwing vicious flames to light them.

At one point, Penelo tried to coax him to speak, but something in his face had made her voice trail off and her hands clasp over her heart. He nearly relented then, disliking that he had put such a sad, lost look in the girl's eyes, but he was so frustrated that he couldn't bring himself to.

Damn Ashe and her stubbornness. Damn the others for following so blindly. Damn Balthier for… for….

Why was he so angry? Harry paused in mid motion and his arms went to his side. This was just the same argument they'd all had a hundred times in the last month, perhaps a bit more fierce, but nothing that should make him feel quite so much like snarling.

The priests had given them what meat they could spare, though with the refugees that was not much. But it was more than they would have had otherwise, and Fran seemed intent on combining it all into a thick, warm stew to warm them. The whistling of the wind through the mountains here was high and endless. At the moment, she was doing this while Balthier sat beside her with a small knife cutting some kind of vegetable into pieces. He had a deep frown on his lips as he did so, his motions rather rough and heavy-handed.

As Harry watched, Fran's hand shot out and grabbed Balthier by the wrist, forcing him to drop the small knife and taking it from him. He could not hear what she said to him, but it caused Balthier to give a wry, dark, curve of his lips and set down his task, palms going to rub against his face in a frustrated motion.

There was no story time this night, though Vaan ventured to ask for it while they ate. Harry held his breath to keep any harsh rebuttals from coming out, instead just shaking his head briefly and moving towards his sleeping area. Seeing Balthier there, scowling as he fought again with the fastenings on his vest, nearly made Harry seek out a new place to sleep.

But he wasn't that petty. At least he hoped he wasn't.

Harry lowered himself to his knees and silently batted Balthier's fingers away from the small, knotted bits of cord, unfastening them quickly and straightening out the beaded ends. Balthier looked up and opened his mouth as if to speak, but somehow he seemed to accept the silence and closed it and his eyes as well, sighing through his nose. Harry turned away and began straightening his bedding.

It wasn't long before even the half-hearted mumbling between the others died out and everyone settled in, the soft sounds of deep breathing and light snoring replacing it. Harry lay on his side facing Fran's back, frowning and wondering if he would find rest that night. His chest felt tight from the obvious tension he was creating within their group but he just couldn't abide by something this—this—

Harry buried his head beneath the blankets and found himself tense and ready to lash out. How could Ashe be so stupid? He didn't care what traditions there were in the world, the nethicite couldn't possibly solve her problems. If nothing else, it would only increase the trouble they would have to go through to resolve the impending war. Why couldn't she see sense? Why were the others going along with it so easily?!

Harry gasped as he was broken from his reverie by a warm arm snaking around him and yanking him back. He held himself taught as Balthier leaned his forehead against the back of Harry's neck, his breath hot and distracting against his nape.

"I am sorry for whatever has enraged you so, Harry. I know not—no, that is untrue. You have my sincerest regrets for not standing resolute in the face of Ashe's stubbornness, for not supporting you when I agree so deeply with your worries. I am sorry for not being by your side to stand firm with you, to show you that I believe in you."

Harry's breath caught and held, and he damned himself for how weak he felt suddenly.

"You have becomes something of a backbone amongst us, luv. You must see that. Your strangeness and newness has been a unifying force, allowing us to all see that our differences matter little in light of a drive to succeed. You have no stake in any of this… but that is not something to look down on. That you still stand beside us and fight for our freedom shows that even those from different worlds may find common ground, so why not those just across mere borders?"

Harry wanted to speak up and deny that he was not so altruistic, that he only stayed because he felt so strongly that Balthier and Fran were his anchors here, that he had grown so fond of other members of their party. But he could not, not when Balthier's hand shook against his chest, not when that arm tightened and pressed him hard back against the other man as if he clung to him for sanity.

That arm retreated suddenly, but Harry did not move away and neither did Balthier. Fingers pressed gently at his spine, tracing the line of it down and up again, slow and soothing. "Let this night be the end of this, and let us begin anew come morning, as I fear we have enough strife to face without such turmoil amongst us as well. Please, Harry, accept this. I shall go mad if you cannot."

As if the fight had drained out of him, Harry went limp against him, curling his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching back, feeling aged and wooden. "Yes," he breathed, curling into himself and closing his eyes, Balthier's gentle fingers and steady breathing lulling him to sleep.

He woke still pressed there come morning, feeling more rested than he had in weeks.

The trees grew thinner and the air warmed as they finally exited the Salikawood after a week's journey, rested after a night beneath its boughs without interruption. They had had several interrupted nights previous to that, and though no one had mentioned that stilted evening in Bur-Omisace, the tension from it had still colored their interactions for days. The night before, though, Harry had suddenly begun speaking and had regaled them all with his third year and meeting Sirius, of the use of the time-turner and coming out ahead at the end of the night. It was like an invisible wall had broken, and everything had fallen back into place.

After the story and a night of uninterrupted rest, everyone seemed to be more cheered than they had been in quite some time now, and the beautiful weather only added to this. The youngest of their group were in high spirits that morning, dashing ahead of the rest and laughing gaily.

"Bet you can't catch me!" Vaan called, tapping Basch and running ahead.

"Nor do I have a wish to."

"Aww, that's no fun at all. How about you, Princess?"

Ashe looked up from where she had been looking into the sparse trees, blinking. "Excuse me?"

"Try to catch me!"

She seemed at a loss, and Penelo gripped her wrist to pull her along with bright laughter. "Come on, Ashe. You have to let go sometimes!"

The Princess's demeanor was still confused as she was roped into dashing energetically with Penelo and Vaan, but by the fond, warm look in Basch's eyes, Harry thought it was likely a good thing.

Beside him, Fran hummed a tune uncharacteristically, swaying as she walked.

"You're oddly cheery," Harry said, smiling up to her.

"The alive things here are happy," she said softly, trailing long nails over a knotted vine hanging from overhead. "They sing with delight for the sun, for the morning mist, for the onset of summer. It is hard to be any less when surrounded by their joy."

Harry didn't see anything other than plants; healthy plants, sure, but nothing more than that. But then, Harry didn't have some ingrained biological link to the world's shrubbery or whatever it was that made Fran able to sense and hear the forests, so he supposed his view didn't matter much. He smiled gently to her, entranced by the lilting, broken melody she continued to hum.

He tried not to keep an eye flicking to the way that Balthier watched Vaan, Penelo, and Ashe with a soft look on his face, but he couldn't help himself. There was something in the man all at once fragile and steel-like in strength, the set of his mouth conveying a million worries and admonishments but his eyes keeping them from going further.

Basch had taken up the tune with Fran, softly singing in his deep baritone to accompany her hums; apparently the tune was a familiar one. Harry drifted along in the warming morning, trailing just a bit behind everyone, trying to tamp down on the familiar loneliness he had been losing bit by bit in the last weeks. There was so much of this world he was sure he would never really understand. So many things a native of a place took for granted that he would be questioning for the rest of his life.

Harry wondered when he'd started seeing Ivalice as his new permanent location, when he'd stopped looking for ways to go home.

"Destiny," Balthier said, nudging him with his hip as he fell back to walk alongside him. "The tune they follow. It oft accompanies stories of upheaval and great inner strength in theatre and orchestra."

Harry couldn't help the way he stopped in his tracks, staring at the man who so nonchalantly stepped in whenever he was needed, and he rubbed absently at the sinking burn that swelled in his chest. Balthier paused and raised an eyebrow, smile soft.

Harry shook himself and hurried to catch up, his face heating and Balthier watching him knowingly. But it seemed he took pity on him eventually, looking away and humming at the back of his throat. "Well, all is quiet, the children are occupied, and our keepers have lost themselves in nature," he said with a flourish towards where Fran and Basch were quite some distance ahead, both in their own worlds. "What are Mummy and Daddy to do with all this alone time?" It was said so salaciously that Harry's breathing caught and he nearly ran into a tree.

He struggled to regain his composure. "I'll only agree to your silliness if I can be Daddy. No way will you relegate me to being the woman."

Balthier's laugh was delighted. "Ah, that's not quite the response I expected, but well enough. I am rather the more fashion-conscious and delicate of the two of us, I suppose," he said with a wink. "Shall we play a game, then?"

"Well then, Mummy," Harry said wryly, "what would you like to play?"

"An answer for an answer, does that seem fair?"

Harry regarded the man warily, nearly tripping over a rock as he paid more attention to watching him from the corner of his eye than to the path before him. "I think you have ulterior motives, my lady."

"When do I not?" It was said with a smirk in it, though there was no expression on Balthier's face. "Come now, luv, play with me."

"What's your favorite color?" Harry said, hoping to start off the game innocuous and keep it there.

"Green," Balthier said without pause, not even a glance in Harry's direction. Harry's heart clenched anyway. "If you could do any one of your spells you knew of but never learned, what would it be?"

"Temperature-modulating charms… ones to warm or cool a person in inclement weather. What is your favorite food?"

"Stuffed Cockatrice. That's a bird," he clarified when Harry cocked an eyebrow. He skipped over the root of a tree that was snaking over their path as punctuation, walking momentarily backwards to look Harry in the eye. "If you could have any one item with you here from your world, what would it be?"

Harry was silent for a moment, grimacing as a million possibilities flew past his mind's eye. "I'm… not certain, actually. My invisibility cloak would be most useful – yes, that is exactly what it sounds like – but I think I'd like my photo album more. It was a gift, my very first gift, and had a lot of pictures of my parents in it. I'd added to it over the years with some newspaper articles and pictures of those I cared about, too, so it would be nice to have those memories." To no longer have their faces blurring in my mind, Harry added mentally.

"Your first gift? How old were you?"

Harry smiled sadly and looked away. "Not your turn."

Balthier made a disagreeing noise in the back of his throat but Harry was quicker.

"Where are your parents?"

Balthier jerked, nearly tripping over himself as he wheeled around to stare at Harry, hard and blank. Harry had never seen the man look like this and regretting his hasty, petty question instantly. "My mother is dead, has been dead for years. As for—"

"Nevermind, Balthier, I shouldn't have asked."

"We set no rules on questions."

Harry shook his head. "That doesn't mean I can't take something back."

Balthier's face sagged with his shoulders, and he looked immensely tired all of a sudden. He stopped entirely and faced Harry, frown deepening the faint lines bracketing his mouth. "Yes, well—"

Harry would wonder in the hours to come what Balthier might have said, what real, frank honesty he might have finally gotten from the man had Vaan not interrupted with excited cries about the beach they'd come upon. The mask flew back up over Balthier's expression and he was all insincere smirks once more, leaving Harry feeling more bereft than he could describe.

"This is so great! The sand is warm, there are people all over, the water is so pretty. Come on, slowpokes! Hurry up!"

Balthier shrugged at him and his long legs carried him past Vaan, swatting the boy on the shoulder. "Be more courteous when interrupting Mummy and Daddy, they were busy."

Vaan goggled after him and shot Harry an incredulous look, to which Harry couldn't help but laugh in response. "Listen to your Mummy, Vaan."

Balthier's laugh rang across the beach.

The sunset at the Phon Coast was beyond lovely, Harry thought. It was almost surreal, the vivid pinks, purples, and oranges that streaked across the sky like a borealis. He itched at his leg where dried-on sand clung to the hair at his ankles, unsure if he would ever feel free of sand again. That didn't stop him from flopping onto his back to soak in the last of the sun-warmed relaxation, wiggling until his body sunk just a bit into the grains.

He turned until he could see the rest of his party, spread out though they were. Fran was fashioning fletching near the newly-built bonfire with Basch and Penelo beside her; it looked like Basch was telling a tale by the way Penelo sat wide-eyed and rapt. Vaan was down by the shoreline with a sharpened stick, still intent on finding more fish that none of them had enough room in their bellies for.

Harry very much did not look beyond the bonfire to where Balthier and Ashe stood at the treeline, heads bowed and all serious, tense lines. They had been there for an hour and Harry did not want to acknowledge the tight, clawing feeling in his gut as he watched them.

As the sun finally made its way down past the horizon, the last dregs of colored light fading from the sky, Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the salty air. Here, there was no real fear of anything. The monsters stayed back due to the guarded perimeter and known human habitation. Since it seemed to be a very "tourist" sort of location, there was little in the way of poverty or crime, as it only existed to serve the rich or the adventurous. The weather was mild, the sea air fresh, the wildlife gentle.

It was a bit frightening.

Harry was uncomfortable in such a caricature of perfection. He feared what the flaw would be, and that it would be a huge one. He was glad they were leaving in the morning.

In the meantime, though, he was content to drift half between waking and sleep, listening to the waves crash on the shore as the tide came in. It was rare that any rest they had was truly restful, rare that they could actual remove their armor and accoutrements and let their guards down.

"The tide's going to drown you if you try to sleep there, ya know."

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he glared half-heartedly at Vaan. "Maybe I'm trying to kill myself."

"Uh huh, so you like drawing out pain? Masochist."

Harry laughed and pushed himself into a sitting position. Vaan dropped down into an odd crouch beside him, pointed stick balancing between his legs. "Why're you all alone over here? I figured you'd be by the fire with the others, or at least with Balthier. You're always with him, aren't you?"

Harry felt uncomfortable and looked away from Vaan's earnest expression. "He's busy, and it was quiet over here."

Vaan glanced back over his shoulder and made an odd humming noise. "You know it isn't like that with him and the Princess, right? Well, for Balthier at least. I dunno how girls think and the Princess is weirder than most, so who knows with her. But seriously," Vaan's eyes were pinning him, and all the arguments and denials he was compiling fell away. "Don't worry about it. You know you're his favorite."

Harry laughed uncomfortably and looked away, determinedly not acknowledging the conversation. "Any luck with the fish?"

Vaan grinned then, the uncommon moment of serious frankness falling away. "Yep, loads. We have a nice stockpile going now for the road. I was tired of all the gruel and berries and stuff that we've been stuck with. I figured having some extra meat would be nice for a couple of days. Any chance you could wave your stick and make them stay cold?"

Harry thought about it and tapped his lip in consideration. He didn't know any chilling charms, nor did he know any of the spells usually used for refrigeration and the keeping of food. But he remembered, while they were camping in the Forest of Dean on the hunt for the Horcruxes, a spell Hermione had set he and Ron to casting. It was supposed to slow down decomposition or something, so they cast it on the meager fruit they could gather and the small meat pies they'd taken to stealing from the muggle world when the hunger got to be too much. It didn't last long, but it helped a bit.

"I can make them last a little longer, at least. Where are they?"

Vaan led him towards the fire, where the entirety of the rest of their party had now gathered. He led him to a small saltwater pit Vaan had dug out that held the various fish and crustaceans he had gathered. Really, there was more there than the group could eat in a week and much more than Harry could keep preserved, but the excess was nice.

Harry laid the fish out flat and traced his wand in an ever-diminishing spiral along them, muttering the incantation over and over as he did until he reached the center. There was no effect that was obvious, but he could feel the magic working and told Vaan so. The boy crowed in happiness.

"Well then, Harry," said Ashe from where she was sharpening her sword. Harry blinked up at her, startled. "I believe you left off in the summer before your fourth year of schooling?"

He smiled wanly at what was obviously a capitulation on her part, an attempt to clear the air between them. He settled in at his usual place beside Fran, staring into the fire and making himself comfortable. "Well then, better begin now so I don't get too drowsy. It started out like it was going to be a relatively normal year, but that probably should have been my first clue that something huge was going to happen…"

"I still don't know why I have to follow you around. All I'm doing is waiting outside while you run and talk to people."

Balthier shrugged a shoulder, turning his face down as a guard passed by. "Your accent is Archadian. Outsiders without chops are watched too closely for anyone else to be of use, but you blend in fine." A hand on Harry's wrist pulled him to the edge of a building, and he sucked in a breath as Balthier swore. "That was close. Come, I have one more stop I must make."

"We have traveled in many towns and you've not been this paranoid. Why would you be so much more recognizable here? Surely it's not just the bounty on your head."

Though he couldn't see Balthier's face as the man walked in front of him, he could hear the wry amusement in the man's voice. "Astute, Harry."

"That isn't an answer, Balthier."

"This is my hometown, though a home it never has been. I'm... rather well-known here." A pause while Balthier turned and grinned, looking for all the world like they were having an everyday conversation while keeping his head turned from the guards to their left. They passed without incident. "My father has eyes in many places, and I would rather he not know I am here until it is too late for any action."

"Father?" Harry's steps faltered, and he found himself jogging a bit to catch back up with Balthier's long strides. Memories of their walk to Phon Coast sprung into his mind at once, the bitter, resigned exhaustion that had lined Balthier's face. He was cautious as he asked, "You have family here, then?"

A harsh laugh from ahead of him. "Family is a relative term. My father and I have rarely seen eye to eye, even less so since I absconded to become what I am."

"A pirate, you mean?"

Balthier slowed and stopped in front of a building, turning and giving Harry a flippant grin. "Among other things." Harry wanted to shake him until he dropped that stupid, fake expression and force him to just be real for once.

"Master Balthier, the heralding of your return has already begun."

Harry whirled on his heel, glaring at the man they'd met in Lower Archades. Balthier slipped in front of him with a hard frown, a look Harry had rarely seen on his face. "Oh? And just how would such information come to light, Jules?"

"T'was no work of mine. But whispers of the return of the prodigal son have already begun, and I have seen guards taking second and third looks at any man fitting your description. I think the element of surprise has been lost to you."

Balthier cursed, fists trembling at his sides. "If I find that you had any part in this, Jules, I will string you up by your toenails in the Cave Palace and let the Abysteel have you."

"Now, now, Master Ffamran – forgive me, I mean Master Balthier – you know that is not my way. But as it is, you should gather your group and make haste into Draklor. Your father is not a patient man."

Harry stepped forward and laid a hand on Balthier's back, frowning at the tense vibrations in the other man's muscles. He had so rarely been witness to his friend being anything but calm and collected, unconcerned even, when dealing with people outside their small group. It was not a pleasant change.

Slowly he felt Balthier relax under his hand, the man's usual posture returning as he leveled a piercing look on Jules. "You shall do me a favor, friend. Find my companions and send them here. By the time they arrive, I will be ready." He dug in his pocket until he had found a small, intricately carved piece of wood, something Harry had come to understand was a status symbol in this strange town. "Give them this Chop and send them up."

Jules didn't look pleased with being relegated to messenger boy, but he bowed over his arm nonetheless. "I wish you luck, good sir."

"Of course you do," Balthier said with a snort. "What do you expect for your silence?"

The man gave an altogether smarmy grin. "Never you mind, Master Ffamran. We'll discuss payment at a later date."

Then the streetear was disappearing into the crowds, leaving Balthier staring after him with a moue of disgust. Harry attempted to bring levity to the situation. "Ffamran, huh? No wonder you changed your name."

He was rewarded with a laugh from his friend, who turned and gave him a mock glare. "You would insult a man in his moment of weakness? I didn't think you were so low, Harry."

"I wouldn't insult most people, but you're a special case."

A slow grin spread over Balthier's lips, and a hand reached out to thoroughly muss Harry's hair. He looked as if he was about to retort when all color drained from his face, his eyes fixed on a point over Harry's shoulder. "Blast it all!"

Harry bit down a yelp of pain as his wrist was gripped hard, yanking him into the narrow space between buildings and shoved back against one. He groaned as his skull made contact with the wall.

"Be silent! The captain of the city guard comes; he was a sycophant of my father's when I was younger, and he knows my face well." Harry tried not to squirm as the words were murmured against his neck, the full weight of his companion pressing him into the wall. "Try to look like you're enjoying something, would you? He has a bit of a fear of sodomites, so he'll not come to investigate if you don't look like I'm harming you."

Harry hissed under his breath, hands already pushing at the man's shoulders. "What?! How in the bloody hell do you expect me to-"

Harry cut off with a strangled gasp as teeth pressed against his neck, a tongue following soon after. The voice against his neck was hardly more than a whisper. "I'd rather make you uncomfortable than get us caught. My father is a powerful man in this city, more so than he would know what to do with most of the time." Harry was suddenly thankful for the force of weight Balthier put against him, as his knees turned to jelly when the mouth on his neck sucked on his pulse. "If he realizes that I am here in malice and not merely stopping over, he will have the city put on lockdown. Even with our strength we could not manage to take on all the guards of Archades."

Harry could hear the contingent of guards moving along the walkway, hear the questions being asked of the passersby. But very little mattered when that mouth moved from his neck to his ear, teeth tugging briefly at the lobe and hot breath making Harry's eyes roll back.

"Come on, Harry," Balthier whispered, "make this convincing."

Hips pressed hard against his, Balthier's damnable mouth moving over his neck. Harry was mortified to find himself reacting, eyes clenching shut and jaw falling slack. Balthier's tongue traced a line across his jaw, fingers tightening on Harry's hips. Harry felt dizzy, heart pounding as his blood pooled in places it had no right to be going to as he was pressed into a wall by his very male companion. He forced himself not to moan as teeth once again pressed into his neck, hips bucking forward against his will.

A dark chuckle came from Balthier. "There you are, luv. That is believable."

Hips pressed into him again, friction sending electric sparks up Harry's spine. His humiliation only grew as he realized that his erection had to be obvious to Balthier. The man knew he was aroused and had yet to stop. Harry's hands clenched on Balthier's shoulders, torn between shoving the man away and not caring of the consequences or pulling him closer to gain more of the euphoric feelings.

One of Balthier's hands smoothed roughly over his hip before finding purchase on his backside, yanking him up and closer yet. Harry gasped audibly as his feet left the ground, one kicking out to prop against the opposite wall while the other was gripped by Balthier and drawn over his hip. That same hand travelled up the length of Harry's thigh and under his top, bare skin igniting flashes of terror and arousal in him stronger than anything ever had.

Balthier's lips travelled along his jaw, the scent of him heavy around Harry. He could hardly breathe as he forced his eyes open to meet Balthier's, breath fanning against his lips and his own fingers somehow having found their way to grip the back of the man's head. Harry could hardly believe how close they were, and damn it all he leaned into him, lips brushing teasingly in the darkness, the hands on him tightening painfully, Balthier's eyes like fire as they stared at him.

"Somebody's down this way, boss."

The reality of the situation crashed down hard on Harry, and he was horrified to realize it only made him harder. He choked down a cry as an answering erection pressed hard against his own, grinding down on him frantically. He pushed back, he couldn't help it, muscles clenching and the leg thrown around Balthier attempting to bring him closer still.

"Eh? Well, well, well, do we have a hider, then?"

Balthier's cheek rubbed against his, stubble scratching his skin. "Make it count, luv."

He didn't think he could consciously control the way his face looked right now as Balthier kept up the slow, hard rhythm, but by the startled exclamation of whoever was drawing near, he must have done a decent enough job.

"Cor, never mind. It's a couple o' shirtlifters, Captain."

"Eh, let's move on," the man said in a rushed voice. "Sure it isn't who we're looking for anyway."

"Are you sure, sir? Maybe it's a distraction or some such."

The voices were moving away, something that Harry was thankful for even as he held himself with painful tension, knuckles white where they clenched Balthier's shoulders.

"Are you questioning me?"

"N-No, sir!"

"Then let's move on."

Harry muzzily tracked them until the clanking of metal armor faded, butBalthier did not stop. Harry couldn't ask him to, not when the heat licked so deliciously at him, ripping gasps from his throat as the hand on his backside squeezed and the friction became frantic, jagged. Harry heard a keening, high noise of desperation and realized it was his own voice, fingers clenched in the short hairs at Balthier's neck and breathing no longer possible.

Then teeth were sinking into his shoulder and everything was white behind his newly-closed eyelids, the warm, solid body against him jerking once, twice more before the world went still.

It was like a bubble had popped. All tension drained away leaving Harry feeling distinctly like gelatin, wobbly and unstable. Harry sagged, feeling Balthier do the same and press his forehead to Harry's shoulder. Harry could feel the way the man's breathing stuttered and gasped against the damp skin of his neck, the spasms in his fingertips as they stayed, boneless and silent, for long minutes in the dingy alley.

Oh gods, what had he done? Harry felt panic engulfing him quickly, uncontrollable shaking making itself known in his limbs. He had just... rutted with a man in an alley! Never mind that it had begun as a way to throw off pursuers, Harry had enjoyed it far too much for that to matter at all. He had enjoyed it. He had actively participated; he had achieved orgasm and he was not stupid enough to think that was not a mutual thing. Sweet Merlin. Every blush, lingering glance, and brush of skin came back to him then in rapid succession, the previous months suddenly feeling like nothing but a leadup to this very moment, sweaty and sticky and pressed knee to shoulder against this man, terrified out of his mind.

"Right, we need to meet the others at the air car station," Balthier said suddenly, pulling back and keeping his eyes off of Harry and instead pointing them back towards the street. "Do you think you are capable of moving?"

Harry closed his eyes, trying to keep himself upright of his own volition as Balthier stepped away. How could he act as if nothing had happened? Harry wanted to beat his head against the wall... or run far, far away. As it was, though, Harry nodded tightly. "I'm fine."

As Balthier began walking away, Harry noted that the scent of the spiced soap he insisted on buying at every stop clung to Harry's skin now, a rich and cloying scent he had come to associate with warmth and companionship now just feeling dirty and sensual. He shuddered and forced himself to move away from the wall, trailing after Balthier with quick, short steps.

He might be rather oblivious, but he liked to think there came a time with every issue that he could just no longer ignore things. And suddenly now every interaction he'd ever had with the man felt like a dance to take him here, a slow build into something that could very well break him to pieces.

As they exited the alley, shading their eyes in the sudden brightness and Balthier still very distinctly not meeting Harry's eyes, he could only wonder if this culmination of all the awkward, tense moments would be worth it, or if it would lose him someone he realized was one of the most important people he had.

A/N: There's no true excuse for the wait other than real life. I love you all, thanks for your continuing support, you always make my day worth doing.