”Smuggling Dust is nothing to scoff at. I’ll need appropriate compensation. An airship perhaps?”

The man opposite him wore a wardrobe as dour as his expression. He was a well-pressed man dressed almost entirely in black with his thinning hair coifed to one side. His eyes set with a humorless intensity.

”That’s not something we can offer.”

”Consider it an investment. You have the riches for it, surely.” Balthier nodded to the intricate oil paintings on wood paneled walls. The manor displayed a kind of extravagance that only illicit dealings could buy. It wasn’t Balthier’s usual clientele, but he knew that even this was nowhere near the highest rungs of their operation. Meetings in disreputable taverns could only go so far.

”It’s not a matter of money,” his client said. ”Airships are military only.”

”Then I’ll need the extra capital. Those kinds of dealings don’t come cheap.”

The man considered him before leaning back in his chair, fingers arched thoughtfully. ”I”ll double the offer,” he said. ”The product will be loaded at the docks in three days.”

Balthier’s eyes pricked with irritation. ”I’m a pilot, not a helmsmen,” he said. ”But if that’s your way then consider it done.” He uncrossed his legs and pushed himself from his chair. The man watched him.

”Go to our warehouse on third street for your payment. We’ll give the first quarter now and the rest later.” He paused. ”And don’t go running off before you’re done. But you’re not that stupid, are you?”

”I know when I’m outmatched.” Balthier waved a dismissive hand towards the man as he started out the door. ”I’ll not have the price on my head, thank you.”

The man watched him until the door clicked to a close and likely even beyond. It wasn’t until Balthier stepped into the snow-laden streets that he finally took a breath. Nasty business, smuggling.

As Balthier walked the street, he couldn’t help but notice his own aberrant appearance. The people here wore muted colors in such standard cuts that they looked almost destitute. In contrast, Balthier’s golden plates and ornaments stuck out in a way he’d rather have avoided. In his line of work, he didn’t need the eyes that he felt on his back with every couple he passed.

Balthier glanced up towards the rooftops made of glass and steel. This city hummed. He heard it in its lights, in its engines, in the strange vehicles that barreled through the city like mad bulls. Why was it then that the skies were so desolate? That, more than anything, made him long for home.

Balthier was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the woman stumble towards him. They collided, and Balthier blinked, letting out a small noise of surprise as staggered back. He gripped her shoulders, steadying them both, and then he had a woman half in his arms.

”Sorry. Wasn’t watching my step.” She looked up at him with a gentle smile and wide eyes. ”How bout I make it up to you though? I'll sell you a flower for only 1 gil instead of my usual price.”

”One gil, you say?” Balthier stepped back to consider her. Clad in a modest pink dress, a bow, and twin braids, she was as nonthreatening as she was pleasant. Balthier smirked. ”Quite the bargain. Competing with the market, are we?” He glanced towards the storefront behind her. The glass reflected nearly a dozen bouquets in primary colors. Her basket matched perfectly.

”You have excellent form if I do say so myself. With presentation like that, you could have picked my pocket while you were at it, and I’d have been none the wiser.” Balthier shook his head and started forward. He’d seen enough cheats to know when he was being played. Still, he stopped before he’d passed her and held up five gil between his fingers. ”For the performance,” he said. ”I’ll take the one in blue.”

ulla

The girl was a spitfire, that was for certain. Balthier raised his eyebrows as she turned on him rather than accept the gil. Perhaps he had misjudged her afterall. It seemed she preferred dignity over coin.

”Not worthy of flowers? My, now that’s a sorry state.” Balthier gave a slight tilt of his head as she turned on her heel, took three steps, and then turned back in a huff. It seemed she couldn’t decide whether to spurn him or give him a piece of her mind. Perhaps she simply wanted the last word.

Finally, her eyes sprang to life and she jabbed a finger at his chest. "I know. You can buy us dinner, and we can forget this whole thing." Balthier glanced to her finger with some vague amusement. Perhaps she had more wiles than he’d thought.

”Well now. A dinner, you say? It seems you’re not one to be crossed.” He took her wrist and gently pressed her hand away from him. ”But if you insist, I suppose it a rightful punishment. I’ll not stand in the way of a woman scorned.”


His lips twitched with a smirk. He could certainly afford a dinner for two though he couldn’t say as to where they’d go. This grim city was as new to him as any other, but he had nothing particularly better to do. There were worse ways to spend an evening.

”Come along then. I wouldn’t want to miss the peak hours.” He turned and waved for her to follow. He knew the taverns well enough. If he could find nothing else, he’d complete his end of the bargain one way or another. ”Now that I’ve made my offer, perhaps you could offer something for yourself. A name, perhaps?”

ulla

She seemed pleased despite his aloof demeanor. Truly, she was a master of her art. She followed along, almost leading him rather than the other way around. Aerith. He noted it carefully.

”Balthier,” he answered. The city streets were crowded at this time of night -- an ill omen for their prospects on finding an empty seat. Still, they searched together. He was a man of his word, after all. Sometimes. When it suited him.

”Far from home? I have no doubts about that. Perhaps you’ve traveled just as far as myself. You haven’t heard tell of matters in Ivalice by chance?” Another set of ill prospects. He hadn’t met a soul who recognized the land he knew let alone the nations within it. It seemed he had traveled to some isolated kingdom on the far side of the world. A venture he chose to take as an opportunity rather than a curse.

Then why did his throat tighten when he spoke of it?

”That’s of little matter. I’d rather set my eyes ahead than behind.” He glanced to her. An odd thing, her nationality. Had she not spoken, he would have assumed her a native. She blended well with the styles of the city though he supposed her colors set her apart. Pink. Any other man would have fallen for her wiles without a second thought. He, on the other hand, had seen her type before.

Wherever they were going, it seemed she had a better idea than he did. It didn’t take long before he was following her lead, and though it was his gil on the line, he couldn’t help but appreciate her audacity. It wasn’t every day that he met a woman so spirited. He wondered briefly if she’d care for a partner in her schemes.

She stopped and pointed at a building without asking. The storefront did indeed look promising, but he doubted they’d get in within the hour if the small mob outside had anything to say for it. ”Plotting something?” he asked, eyebrows raised. She led him along until they were pushing through the crowd and stood only a few feet away from the doors. And then she turned to him with a mischievous gleam to her eyes.

She was indeed plotting something.

”Of course I’ll marry you!” She flung herself at him, and for a moment even he was startled. He staggered back at her weight and stared at her, uncertain of exactly what he’d heard. Then she leaned in and whispered her plan. He blinked before the full picture struck him and he stifled laughter.

Oh, she was good.

”Quite the tragedy,” he agreed before slipping his hands around her waist. It was forward, but if she insisted on throwing herself into his arms then he’d play along. ”I’d hoped to ask you inside, but I dare say it's ruined the moment.”

The effect was immediate. A well-dressed man ushered them closer and the crowd parted before them. There wasn’t a single jealous eye as they took the place of the charitable soul in question. Aerith already had her mind set on future spoils.

A fine trait for a thief.

Balthier slid his hand behind her waist to make the act more believable, occasionally slipping in some line or another. The crowd’s hearts melted at his every word. Balthier wondered vaguely how long the near-stranger would allow this before they were called forward from the front. The wait had lasted a mere ten minutes.

The restaurant certainly had more class than he’d have liked though it wasn’t the height of extravagance. There were leather booths, formal dress, chandeliers lit with a kind of artificial flame. A fireplace flickered on the far wall, and Balthier was pleased to note that they’d been seated right beside it. For the romance, he thought, and that suited him just fine. He’d never turn down the spoils of a well executed con.

”That was a fine act you put on. Excellent showmanship if I might say so myself.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. The fire crackled beside him, lighting them both in a dim light. It was romantic, yes, but also a place of shadow.

”Well then. You’ve had your way and on my dime at that. I'd dare say you've caught my interest." He tilted his head towards her.”It seems you're quite determined to get me alone. Do you have a proposition or are you simply after a night on the town?” He caught her eye with a sly smirk. ”Nothing comes at so little a cost.”

ulla

It seemed he'd underestimated her cost. One glance at the menus set before them proved that. Balthier’s lips pricked with a frown as he glanced over it. The woman had taken full advantage of his promise and then taken more. He glanced at her in interest. What kind of woman would go through all of this effort just for an extravagant meal? One with an ironclad will and a taste for mischief, it seemed.

His frown was quickly replaced with a smirk as he lifted his glass. ”Cheers indeed.” He sipped it and considered its dry taste. It wasn’t quite what he was used to, but it was light and bubbly and pleasant enough. It was a far cry from his usual liquors, but he thought to relish the change of pace.

It hadn’t come cheap after all.

”Separated? Now there’s a popular tale as of late.” He paused at their descriptions. For a moment, he wasn’t entirely certain what he’d heard. ”A gun for an arm?” He frowned. ”I’ve made the company of several thieves, but I’m at a loss, I’m afraid. I think I’d notice such a man, and I’ve little familiarity with your nationalities.” Quite the shock, he’d assume, given the confidence of her question. She hadn’t so much as considered that he might not know this “Wutai.” It wasn’t in these lands at least.

They were met quickly for service, and he tilted his head to consider the man’s approach. The woman ordered the most expensive item she could find, of course. Balthier gave it a moment’s thought before sliding the menu towards him. ”And I’ll take the same.” He met the woman’s eye with a mischievous glint of his own. If he was to throw down his cards then he might as well go all in. There was little point in half-measures.

”I dare say you’ve done the harassing, and I've bought it hook, line, and sinker.” The words carried no bitterness -- only acknowledgement. She had his respect in that regard. It wasn’t easy to con a man of his trade. ”But I found myself in search of work. I’m not a man of trade myself. I prefer to take matters into my own hands.” A bold admission, but she seemed worthy of it. He took another sip of champagne.

”And you? You claimed you sought a place to sleep. Do you have any less scrupulous ploys in mind?”

ulla