bakerstreet | when things break bad...

Balthier has a guess what that ear dip means; Fran did the same, rarely. So he knows to be gentle, careful. He doesn’t even notice the way this entire situation is lifting some of the fog.

“And she sent you for me today?” He would think the Wood would protect this clearly conflicted Viera from a heathen dreamer like him. Especially with what happened to Fran.

Is it possible the Wood approved of Fran’s choice? Somehow that makes Balthier’s heart feel lighter; it’s a risky thing, to nurse a narrative one wants. And yet the allure that something about what he did for her was right…

"Yes," he said, that much he knew. Perhaps as a male he cannot hear the voice as well, but when he could, he didn't refuse it. "You have something that must be told. There are two in the village."

And in the morning he would see a message sent so they could tell him when he could bring Balthier to them.

"I know she was of the place, if she took your group there. So I will take you. And wait while you find and tell the tale you must tell them. Perhaps they will give you guidance."

He nods. "Her sisters." Because he thinks David will understand both why he must deliver the message, and why it's going to be so difficult.

He does wrinkle his brow though. "You are not allowed in?" He knows males do not usually go, but neither do humes. "Did the wood tell you to wait for me?" Because he can't imagine what business David would have with him after, not that he minds the company.

"I am not allowed in without forewarning," he corrected. There was much to be traded, and there was a chance there was a boy child of age that would be sent with him. "And I wait for I fear you will do poorly to leave the woods on your own."

Ah. Yes. His being in need of keeping. He'd protest, but it's obvious the viera is right.

"You honor me with your concern and your aid. And this tea." There's something restorative to it, the blend itself yes, but just...sharing tea with someone. It's been, well, since before Fran passed.

Could anyone doubt that this poor Hume was not in need of keeping? He was clearly not one meant for solitude, and if all truth was given, neither was David. He was alone for that was his place, but for now, he would take the company the Wood gave him.

"You honor me with your tolerance and your company. But here, have more than merely the tea," he said, handing over a utensil and pulling the warmed dish of vegetables between them. "Eat your fill. You will need your strength for what you must tell."

Balthier didn't have much of a history of being kept when he needed it, and the one person most prone to it was lost to him, the others of his party scattered.

"First person who has called me tolerant in a long while," he says with a half-smile and a shake of his head. "Company I am fairly sure I can provide. And thank you." There's something platonic and lovely about sharing from the same plate, and that bolsters his spirits as much as the food. "This is excellent," he says, surprise not entirely masked. He's had Viera cooking, and he's had some of the best foods across Ivalice. Not that food has tasted like much lately, but this gets through, and it's good.

"You are the first who has chosen to tolerate me in a while," David countered just as easily.

To be told his cooking is excellent, though, makes the Viera smile quite genuinely. He had not had someone with which to share his cooking save the one who had trained him many decades ago. Those rare encounters he had allowed himself with other hunters had never had them sharing of his hearth in this way.

"Thank you. I imagine that you have tasted a good many things in your seeing of the world. I am glad my humble offerings could be of comment."

"I can visit again, if that's something you'd like." He doesn't entirely intend to say it, and he hasn't really even thought about what he'll do after he delivers his story. Maybe it's just the part of him that shouldn't be alone, recognizing someone he gets along with. Someone that doesn't remind him of his own painful history.

"No need to be humble about something you're good at. I'm a right snob." His smile is easier. It's not like the grief is gone, but it's quieter, receding the shadows outside the glow of David's hearth.

Ah but the yearning to say hes is powerful, perhaps even obvious in how he holds himself straighter at the offer. Then his ears flag a little, for he cannot fathom that the Hume would come back. He would not wish to stay where he so hurt for memories of his companion.

"I was not aware I was skilled. I have only had myself to taste my creations for many years. Guests are not common here."

Balthier watches David's body tense, then his ears dip a little. Maybe he wouldn't see it if he hadn't spent years with Fran. She too would gloss over his words, only for him to realize later she heard -- and contemplated -- all of them. Even when they were copious.

"I'll bring things from afield then," he says casually, to cement that the offer is there but David's choice. "Fresh won't travel well, but there are spices. And pickles. If you decide you don't wish to see me again, then I doubt I'll find you, and the food won't spoil."

An offering to return. And yet not one that David thought he could accept. There was no way the Hume would return.

"Why would you offer such a thing? You know the Woods are dangerous. What if she should block her ways to you in the future?"

Balthier tilts his head, gaze getting distant as he really thinks about David's question and, more importantly, what David likely does and doesn't know. When he met Fran, she'd already been out of the Wood a good long while. Hume culture was foreign to her, but travel was not.

"My path is always dangerous, and I move across Ivalice freely and frequently. I like to see people I know, people who are good company and good for conversation, when I am nearby. Perhaps the Wood will block me, and I will respect that, but she has let me pass several times before. I have taken hunts for the village, even. And if I can repay your kindness, then I am happy to." He doesn't address the molboro in the room that Fran was always with him. It is not the point.

Surely it should be the point though. David doesn't say that though. Instead he pulls the heated meat where they can pick at it as well.

"It seems you have found some compass as well. You seek to travel the world more already. You are healing.

He chuckles, shaking his head at the way David throws that back at him. He's not sure that's quite right, but it's not wrong either.

"Fran always said I wasn't any good at sulking." And it's a good memory, one that, for this moment, doesn't hurt.

He takes the meat with some eagerness, surprised at feel any sort of desire. "The Wood was kind to me to give me your aid. Thank you."

Well to that David smirked. He had seemed quite good at sulking earlier, but David will take it as a moment of aptitude.

"As she offered me kindness with your presence. You are refreshing."

Then he smiles and finally starts to pick at the food himself. The man deserved to eat more than David needed it.

Good at it in the moment, yes, not at holding onto it. There's a melancholy that runs deep in him, but a hope that's deeper. And it's the first time he's felt that piece of him since she died.

Maybe -- maybe she was right about him.

He offers a grin back at being called refreshing. He'll endeavor not to contradict that tonight. But David beginning to eat encourages him to eat more.

"You cook, you hunt. What else does a solitary Viera do to keep stimulated?"

Ah, there was a question that David had been expecting, and one where he fears he will cause the other man quite a good deal of disappointment.

"Those are the things expected of us, beyond the visits to the villages when we need to trade. I suppose one could also say that we seek to defend the Wood. To keep balance within its far reaches, often by our touch upon the creatures. It is not a very stimulating life for many I have taken to reading what I can."

But getting his hands on books was far from a simple matter.

On the contrary, it's about what he expected, and the taste for books catches his interest.

"Do you have particular favorites? I have a library on my ship." Or -- did. The Strahl was taken, part of why it took so long to reach the wood. But he's having too pleasant a time to dwell on that.

"What little things I have been able to acquire," David said before rising with that same elegance as before. He crossed to a small shelf hung above the bed and fetched down his few volumes. They were eclectic in their spread. One was a large tome on some high level maths, another was a famed play, of which there were many handwritten direction notes in the margins. The third was a history of the breeding and management of chocobos.

Balthier smiles at the books. What a spread. "This is one of my favorites -- oh this is a beautiful copy," he says, leafing through the play. The notes are old, and quite good. "A head for maths, then? This isn't easy reading."

"It seemed rather logical to me," David answered as he took some more of the vegetables. "Things that were very right, though I did find the error and corrected it."

Of course there hadn't been meant to be an error, but he had definitely found a problem and argued a more sound solution the margins of it.

"Rare is it that Humes trade books to the Hunters, or that we find them on those fallen in the Wood. But they have been nice books. I hope to read more when I might."

“You corrected an error,” Balthier repeats, incredulous but not disbelieving. His maths were decent — engineering and all that — and this was complex stuff.

“Well it’s clear we need to get your more books. If I can’t pass back through the Wood is there somewhere on the edge I could leave them?”

It feels like a meaningful gift for the one he’s been given.

He keeps eating as they talk. Maybe it would be good to go see old acquaintances. Things feel lighter in the company of another.

This Hume was not at all what David had expected, and it made him smiles. Perhaps he could see why one of his kind might travel with the man.

"I will consider your question, and try to give you an answer before I take you to the village."

After all, eh was not sure if he would see Balthier after that.

Balthier is aware of that too, so nods, satisfied with the answer. Even if he does not get to see David again, he’d like to bring the Viera something.

And it gives him some tiny idea of what next. What exists after tomorrow. He needs that.

“Alright your turn for questions. Surely there’s something about the world I can answer. Make use of me.”

Bad End AU Meme

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