Desire slammed into his gut, throwing him for a loop. It never ceased to amaze him that it was Penelo who tied him into knots. Yet he knew that even if he wanted her – even if she wanted him – it wasn’t right. He had more honor than to shamelessly seduce an innocent young girl. And if he were to do so, it certainly wouldn’t be in a cold, drafty cave. Circumstances had placed her in his care, but they did not permit the taking of liberties. And with the way she was trembling, he didn’t think he ought to be entertaining notions of it, anyway.

With a rough sigh, he pulled the blanket up. Her head and shoulders disappeared beneath the shelter of the worn linen. His hand cupped the back of her head through the blanket, urging her a little closer to him. He felt more than heard the slight catch of her breath, the warm, tiny puff of air against his throat.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “You’ve had a hard time of it today. Just…sleep.” His fingers moved smoothly, caressingly over her back. Sleep, and give me a few hours of peace. Ruthlessly he shoved his own desires aside, electing for once to do right by another.

Maybe it was easier for her to relax when she didn’t have to look at him. Maybe she was just exhausted. Whatever the reason, gradually her small fists uncurled and she slid into sleep. Unconsciously she sidled closer, seeking his warmth. Even deep in slumber she gave him no peace, he thought, as her warm breath fanned his throat. She shifted, and he felt her lips barely brush his skin just above his collarbone. He suppressed a shudder. It was definitely wrong of him to be thinking such lustful thoughts about her, especially when she had no idea just how much he truly desired her and could not, therefore, adequately protect herself against him. He had no business looking at her, much less touching her.

But he couldn’t help it – her skin was silky and smooth beneath his hands. Apparently she approved of his touch, for she sighed and tucked her head beneath his chin and made small, appreciative sounds in her throat even as his exploring hands grew bolder. His fingertips stroked the underside of her breasts and she shivered against him. He drew away immediately, disgusted with himself.

Men controlled their baser urges or they were no better than the fiends and beasts of the wild. He was a man grown, and yet he hadn’t felt this way since his fifteenth birthday, when his father had engaged an accomplished lady of the night to teach his son the arts of the bedchamber. Since then, he’d always been confident and poised, aloof and cool. Disinterested. Detached. His hands had never trembled. He’d never had to steal kisses and touches in the night like a thief. And though he was certain that Penelo would not refuse him, he did know that he should refuse her.

He sighed heavily. Unfair, that he should be placed in such a predicament!

Beside him, Penelo snuggled closer. Her small palms flattened against his chest, and she edged one dainty foot over his, sliding her calf up his leg. Instantly, his libido kicked into overdrive, and he grimaced. Obviously, it was going to be a long and painful wait.

--

Sometime later – hours or minutes, he had no way of knowing – a log snapped in the small fireplace, making a crackling sound that jarred him from a light doze. Somehow he too had managed to take advantage of the relative heat and comfort and get in some small amount of sleep.

The fire was slowly dying, having not been fed a log for some time. It seemed the vast majority of warmth Balthier could attribute to Penelo, who at some point had managed to wiggle her way over him, her cheek pillowed against his chest, legs spread on either side of his hips, pressed tight against his own legs to about his mid-calf.

She began to shiver, the blanket having slipped off her slender shoulders, exposing her to the cool air in the cave. He drew it back up over her, sliding one hand into the cool blonde strands of hair and the other hand gently caressing her back, skimming delicately over each vertebrae of her spine.

“Shhh,” he whispered as she stirred, making a small, unintelligible sound of discontent. She settled back against him, still asleep. He wondered how she had brought herself to snuggle up against him – how she’d managed to fall asleep wrapped around him when he’d bet good money that she’d never seen a naked man in her life, much less slept with one. But now she was wrapped around him as though nothing in all of Ivalice could make her let go. He could feel her breasts against him, her soft, smooth stomach pressed to his, even her silky thighs clutching his hips.

One of his palms rested between her shoulder blades, rubbing in gentle, soothing circles. The other had settled on her lower back. There, in the fragile place between sleeping and waking, he had somehow lost the will to deny his instincts. His fingers found the warm, smooth skin of her shoulders, gliding along lax muscles, learning the curve of her elbows, the musculature of her small, delicate hands. His hands traced her slight form, found the dip of her waist, the sweet flare of her hips, the curve of her bottom, her sleek, slender thighs. She stirred just a little, her arms – which had been folded beneath her – uncurling to slide her hands over his chest to clutch his shoulders.

He’d never had a woman curled in his arms so trustingly before, had never felt such an uncharacteristic degree of tenderness towards one. He wanted to keep her there, held against him so tightly, and just…never let her go. Her warm breath caressed his jaw; her lips were just a few short inches from his.

And she was naked. Completely, utterly, wonderfully naked. And with her legs spread over his hips, he could just slide his hands between her thighs and stroke her to satisfaction. It would be so easy, so deliciously sweet to be the first to touch her, to hear her soft gasps of pleasure, to take her – no, he could not allow himself to go that far. Touching her was one thing, making love to her was quite another.

But he wanted to touch her. If he was very, very careful, he could probably bring her to climax without waking her. She would never know – likely if she remembered it at all, it would only be as a delicious dream. And by that point, he was beyond wanting. He simply couldn’t not touch her. He was completely beyond the ability to deny himself the luxury of stroking her soft skin, sipping the sweet sighs that would no doubt tumble from her lips.

Slipping his fingers over her smooth thighs, he slowly edged them towards the warmth of the center of her body. They drifted over soft, tight curls of hair at the apex of her thighs to the silky, delicate flesh hidden beneath. He explored her gently, learning the exquisite softness of her body, the way she rocked against his fingers when he stroked her, the sweet catch in her breath when he caressed a sensitive area.

Her nails kneaded his shoulders, her breath shuddered out, and delicate little shivers wracked her body as he stroked her. By the gods, she was a sensual little thing, moving so seductively against him as if in her sleep she was trying to escape the ecstasy he forced on her. And suddenly, he couldn’t resist. He gently rubbed her clit with one finger, and circled another around the entrance to her body before slowly plunging it inside.

Her breath left her on a wordless cry. Her nails dug crescents into his shoulder, and her knees trembled against his hips. Within her, her inner muscles clenched tightly around his invading fingers, so hot and tight he had to grit his teeth against the wave of need that swept over him. He continued his erotic torment, heedless of the little gasps he forced from her. She felt like warm velvet, like perfection. He envied the man who would be her first lover.

In just a few moments, he felt her bearing down on his fingers, her body wringing every last silvery bit of pleasure from him that she could. A wild, choked little sound left her tight throat, and suddenly her eyes opened – a curious blend of blue and grey, hazy with fulfillment. He knew he would never forget the sight of her like that, her pretty mouth soft and parted, her cheeks flushed, her hair wild around her lovely face. He didn’t even know if she had really seen him in that moment, for just a few moments later, as her contractions eased, she slipped bonelessly down against him, muscles loose and lax, deep in slumber - exhausted.

And he was exhausted, too. He was trembling with the effort not to slide her down his body a couple of inches and thrust inside her. He stroked her damp back while he attempted to calm his rampant libido, kissing her smooth shoulder, the top of her head, her warm cheek. The man who Penelo took to her bed would be lucky, indeed.

It took him several minutes to overcome his baser instincts, especially with Penelo’s arms wrapped around him, cocooning him in the scent of her sweet skin, the warmth of her body. And he still ached with unfulfilled desire, but it was an enjoyable sort of pain – because he knew that he’d pleasured her, that he’d been the first to take her to the heights of passion. He closed his eyes, savoring the memory of it.

It was calming, somehow, to have her near. Just as she drew comfort from him, using him like her own personal mattress, so did he draw comfort from her. He knew Penelo fancied herself in love with him…and maybe she really was. It would be a change. Many times in the past had women made similar claims to him – promises of undying devotion, vows of love eternal and what have you – but Balthier had always known them to be false. They loved his face, his body, his arrogance, his charm, his chosen profession. They loved the danger and intrigue that surrounded him. They loved everything superficial about his life, but they had never loved him.

Penelo was one of the very few who knew his background. She knew of all he’d sacrificed, of the hardships he’d faced, of the things he’d endured. She knew the circumstances which had shaped him, made him into the man he was. She knew his demons and misdeeds. She knew his name. She knew everything that made him who he was, and yet she still loved him. Or so he imagined. She’d never told him so. And he wondered why she had never said anything – did she not love him, or did she not say the words because he’d told her in the past how irritating it had been to hear words so patently false as those? Did she fear he would reject those words from her as surely as he’d rejected them from others?

The corners of his lips turned down in a faint frown. Surely he was not considering accepting a declaration of love from Penelo! No matter how sweet her face or delectable her body or intriguing her mind, she was still just Penelo. She was not versed enough in the ways of pirating to accompany him, nor did she desire such a life – she had said, in fact, that she was sure it was not the life for her. They were too different to be able to form any sort of life together, even if she loved him, even if she soothed his restless soul. And he knew that simply putting such fanciful imaginings from his mind would not be enough – he was actually going to have to put some real distance between them to be able to thrust her firmly out of his mind. It was a dangerous game he was playing, and Penelo did not know the rules. It was unfair and unkind to treat her as an equal in a situation in which he held all the advantages.

Regardless of the promises he’d made to Vaan, it was time to leave.

Perhaps she sensed his troubled thoughts, for Penelo stirred in his arms, raising her head sleepily.

“Balthier?” She murmured his name, stretching like a drowsing kitten. Her soft hair tickled his chest, drifted brightly over his arm. She yawned, opening her eyes. Slowly it registered that she was lying atop him, and he was letting her – not just allowing her to be there, but actually anchoring her with one strong arm around her back.

She started to push away from him, then remembered her state of undress and thought better of it.

“Um,” she began, fiddling with the corner of the blanket. “What happened?”

“I suppose at some point you decided I made a better mattress than the ground,” he said dryly. “If you wish to move, I would suggest you do so carefully. No panicked thrashing while we’re in such a delicate…predicament.”

“I’ll…I’ll just go check to see if our clothes are dry. Could you…close your eyes for a few minutes?” She knew she was blushing…she only hoped the glow of the fire disguised it somewhat.

That innocent blush pricked Balthier’s temper – how dared she blushas if it were his fault she’d climbed atop him! He thrust a hand through his hair, endeavoring to keep a sulky tone from his voice when he answered.

“By all means,” he said, closing his eyes. A moment later, he felt her leg slip over his hip and her palms press against his chest as she carefully slid off of him. Cold air rushed beneath the blanket as she crept from beneath it. He heard her bare feet padding softly across the floor, heard her muttering faintly to herself and heard the rustle of cloth as she tested the dryness.

Somehow, some devil was loosed from within him – he peeked. Just a little, just from beneath his eyelashes to see if she was watching him.

She wasn’t. Her back was to him as she slipped her pants over her shapely behind, knotting the drawstring band at her waist. She retrieved her small corset top, slipping it over her head. Abandoning all pretense, he opened his eyes fully, folding his arms beneath his head and admiring the view. She turned a little and adjusted her top, and her pretty breasts disappeared from view. He had always had a healthy appreciation for a well-proportioned female, and Penelo certainly fit the criterion.

She slid her hands over her top, smoothing the fabric, then brushed the lingering dust from her pants.

“Okay,” she said, “I’m decent.” And she looked up at him. Surprise flared in her eyes, quickly followed by confusion and then anger. “You! You were looking! You…you…” She couldn’t seem to think of words bad enough to call him.

Balthier arched an eyebrow, surveying her flushed cheeks and clenched fists speculatively. She was trembling with righteous indignation and offended pride.

“I fail to see why you are so up in arms,” he said. “You’re quite pretty, actually.”

Caught off-guard by the unexpected compliment, her mouth dropped open. “You shouldn’t have been looking,” she said finally. “You had no right to–”

“I had every right,” he interrupted coolly, pulling himself upright. The blanket pooled into his lap, baring his chest, stomach, and even a good portion of his hips. Penelo made a tiny choked sound in her throat. Balthier paid it no attention. “You give me the right every time you look at me with those worshipful eyes,” he said callously. “There is invitation in everything you do, everything you say to me. It’s clear you fancy yourself in love with me, Penelo, but I’m not in the market for a steady lover, much less a wife. And even were I to be, I would not choose an orphan girl several years my junior and idealistic to a fault.” He knew he was being cruel, but he thought it a sort of a kindness – better he drive her away now, maybe a little wounded but otherwise unscathed than to let her flirtation progress and damage her heart with his desertion.

“I…I…” Penelo blinked back a flood of tears. Her throat ached, her eyes burned, and she desperately wanted to fling something heavy at Balthier’s head. “I’m hungry. I think there’s some jerky in that box.” Abruptly she turned, heading towards the back of the cave. She dropped to her knees beside the box, rooting through it until the urge to wail had passed. She retrieved a couple of pieces of dried meat and tossed some to Balthier. Then she retreated to the opposite side of the fire to sit and eat hers.

Balthier watched her watching the fire. It surprised him that she’d given up the argument so easily – he’d expected some sort of angry retort or impassioned outburst. Perhaps he’d hurt her more than he’d intended. She was folded in on herself, legs tucked beneath her, arms curled close to her chest as she nibbled half-heartedly at the stick of jerky.

She was watching the fire, but not seeing it. Wherever she was in her mind was not a happy place – her mouth tilted down at the corners and her eyes were dark and sad. He sighed, torn between letting the matter rest and offering her an explanation. It just didn’t seem right to him to hurt her as he had, not when she’d always been so kind to him.

“I didn’t say what I did to hurt you,” he said slowly. She looked up at him briefly, then averted her eyes and resumed watching the fire.

“I just don’t want to–”

“Your clothes are dry,” she interrupted softly. “You can get dressed whenever you want.”

He gritted his teeth, irritated at her diversionary tactics. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said abruptly.

Her head jerked up. “What? But you’re supposed to teach Vaan–”

“I know,” he said. “I thought I could stay, but I can’t. Or I won’t. It doesn’t matter which, really. I’m leaving regardless.”

“But you promised. Vaan will be so disappointed.” Penelo picked at her jerky, trying not to let him see that she would be disappointed, too.

“Vaan is the least of my worries,” he said. “I’m leaving because of you.”

Startled, her eyes widened. “Because of me?” And then she remembered his earlier outburst. She must have irritated him, she realized. “I won’t bother you. I’ll…I’ll stay out of your way.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be good enough.” He scowled, as if it pained him to admit to it. “I’m leaving because just a short while ago, when you were so sweetly laying against me, I put my hands between your legs and touched you. I touched you everywhere I could reach, slid my fingers inside you, and felt you shudder and come. I’m leaving because it was all I could do not to take you then.” His breath hissed out from between his teeth. “You fascinate and aggravate and perplex me like no woman ever has before. I want you in my bed, but make no mistake – there is no room for you in my life. I like my freedom and I’m in no hurry to give it up.”

“Wh-what are you saying?” No one had ever spoken to her in that manner, and that he’d spoken so hungrily of touching her…it was beyond comprehension!

He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’m saying, dearest Penelo, that you can satisfy your curiosity with me. I’ll be your lover, if you wish it, but only for tonight. Whatever your choice, tomorrow I will be gone, and I shall endeavor to stay far, far away from you.”

Though her cheeks burned, she tried to act nonchalant. “What a charming offer. It’s no wonder women fall all over you.”

“Be flattered,” he advised. “I steer far clear of virgins. And it’s the only offer you’re getting from me, besides. Better that I should tell you the truth up front than take you to my bed and leave you heartbroken come morning.”

“Heartbroken?” She echoed. “My, you do have a high opinion of yourself.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, she averted her eyes. “As tempting as your offer might be, I think I’ll pass this time around. Thanks, anyway.” Obviously, he either didn’t know or didn’t care what it did to her pride to have him condescend to take her to bed.

He eyed her assessingly for a moment. “Suit yourself,” he said finally, ripping a chunk off of his stick of jerky. His eyes flicked towards the opening of the cave, where the torrential rain was beginning to show signs of stopping. “We’ll likely be back aboard the Galbana ere long,” he said. “Be a dear and toss me my clothes, would you?”

She flung them at his face and turned away, as he hadn’t even bothered to ask if she’d close her eyes before he’d flung back the blanket to change.

Turning back to the fire once he was fully clothed, she began eating her jerky in earnest. They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the slowing rain.

“Penelo?”

“Hmm?” She began folding up the blankets, packing everything neatly away in the box as she’d found it.

“I’ll leave my door unlocked for you. In the event that you change your mind.”