InsaneJournal

FFXII & KH, "Bending the Rules"
Title: Bending The Rules
Author: Cephy
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII, Kingdom Hearts II
Characters: Balthier, Axel
Rating: PG-13
Prompt/challenge: "virtue is its own punishment"

Balthier is just sidling in close enough to really see what he's there to take, keeping an eye out for any final traps, when the voice comes out of nowhere. "Tsk, tsk. That's not very nice."

Balthier whirls, sees nothing. Says, regardless: "I can't say as that's ever been part of my reputation. Sky pirates don't tend to get far by being nice."

A shiver of a laugh trickles through the dark corners of the room. "You're going to get yourself into a lot of trouble some day, with an attitude like that."

"Life without a little trouble would be no fun at all," he replies, carefully arch.

"Now there I agree with you." The voice seems to be coming from nowhere and everywhere, moving from one corner to the other with no sound of movement to betray the switch. But the longer Balthier looks-- the entire ruins are thick with Mist, haunted by it, but the whirls of motion he sees now seem more than that. A living shadow amongst the darkness, thrown the wrong way against the torchlight.

"Show yourself," he says at last, eyes narrowing.

"Sure," the voice says from behind him. When he turns, he finds something not quite a man leaning against the pedestal, still trailing shadows. Hair licks around its face like flames; eyes shine phosphor-green above a wicked smirk. "So," the being drawls, leaning in and tracing a fearless finger along a gleaming edge of metal, "tell me why I should let you walk out of here with my treasure."

"Your treasure?" Balthier dares to ask, and he has the satisfaction of seeing the being's eyes narrow in response.

"Mine," it answers firmly. Possessive hands hover briefly before falling back to their previous sprawl.

"As you say," Balthier concedes easily. "But then surely you must see," he goes on after a breath, "that these lovely ladies are far too good to be locked away in a dusty old crypt." And they are, they truly are: curves and angles of red-washed steel, as keen and untarnished as if forged only days past instead of centuries. Looking at them makes Balthier's hands itch to see if they are as heavy as they look, to see if they would be as warm as their occasional flickering glow suggests. To see if the wicked points extending from each wheel would cut the air as sweetly as they surely must.

"Once again, I have to agree with you." The being casts a slow, admiring glance over its prizes-- then flicks around the pedestal faster than a blink, standing suddenly far too close. "However," it drawls out long and low, "I'm a guardian, little thief. I guard."

Resisting the urge to lick dry lips, Balthier instead forces a shrug. "Hardly an issue. I'm sure you can guard them just as well in Balfonheim, over a nice cup of madhu. Or maybe sitting on one of the beaches along the Nebra? The possibilities are endless, really."

The being, for one flash of a second, looks positively starving before the smirk is back like a mask.

Balthier finds he has a smirk of his own. "Come on," he says, unaccountably breathless. "Get into a little trouble, hm?" He edges closer and reaches out, not quite holding his breath, and slides his hands under and around the smooth-wrapped handles of the weapons. Breathes again as their guardian simply stands there and watches him do it.