Drabble: Frostbite (pg-13)
Title: Frostbite
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters/Pairing: Balthier/Basch
Arc: None
Words: 641
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort and badly written fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy XII or its characters, I make no money from this.
Note: con-crit desperately wanted.
He hates the cold, the numbness that spreads within his body and the harsh sting of the freezing wind. The cold reminds him of what was but never should have been. Reminds him of the past he has so desperately sought to forget.
That is the horror of the Paramina Rift, the cold that freezes you from the inside and out. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to return to Archadia either. The cold will find him again if he enters that place.
Balthier shivers despite the warmth that radiates from the fire, despite the fact that the cold wind only lurks outside the walls and that the snow cannot get through the windows. He shivers because he feels it even when it is not there. He feels it and he hates it.
He turns his eyes towards the fire, to see how it makes this empty hall brighter and hope that its warmth spreads to him too.
There is movement on his right side and he looks down.
The fallen knight looks calm in his sleep, as if he has finally found the peace that he has always been denied in this world of the sleepless. Balthier feels the jealousy spread in his veins and resents himself for it, if there is someone who truly deserves to rest then it is Basch fon Ronsenburg.
The fire makes the captain’s hair gleam like gold and he looks warm, as if the sun itself had leaned down to touch him. Balthier listens to the breaths of five sleepers but looks at only one.
He doesn’t know why he’s sitting there watching Basch sleep now that the jealousy has passed.
His own thoughts claim him enough for him not to notice when the other man stirs in his sleep, to fail to see eyes the color of Balthier’s beloved sky look up at him.
“Why are you not sleeping?” Balthier jumps at the sound of the low and friendly rumble that is the voice Basch always uses when he’s just awoken.
“The cold.” Balthier can’t offer a better explanation, not now, and so he falls silent.
It seems to be enough, however, because Basch seems to understand. At least, the captain thinks he understands, and perhaps that is good enough. The look of worry and warmth that falls on Basch’s face makes Balthier ache, even though he does not quite know what it is that he is aching for.
“Then let us see if we can get you warm.” Basch’s voice is so genuine that Balthier cannot refuse when Basch carefully moves to make room for Balthier under his blanket. “You will need your strength for this journey.”
The way Basch’s breath softly tickles his neck is incredibly soothing and he feels the tension leave his muscles. The warmth is there, but even though he knows it, he doesn’t feel it. The hate grows inside of him and he feels it manifesting in the corners of his eyes. Basch knows, he must know, for a callused hand gently wipes the tears from Balthier’s eyes.
Balthier allows Basch to pull him closer, he even relaxes when Basch puts his arm around his back and Balthier feels the warmth radiating from Basch’s chest. Moments pass before Basch presses his slightly dry lips against Balthier’s cheek and forehead, Balthier will never admit how wonderful it feels to capture those lips with his own.
He feels it then, right there in the centre of the cold, the tiniest hint of a glowing ember.
He has to close his eyes to reassure himself that he did not imagine it, has to bite his lip to control the feeling of hope as it begins to grow inside him.
Basch smiles then, even while their lips still touch.
After a moment of hesitation, Balthier returns his smile.
