Ellie did not invite Balthier to join her and Vaan in their games, but nor did she completely ignore him. After she’d grown bored with playing with model airships, she moved hesitantly over to where Balthier was carefully assembling the towering spires of a castle with a set of wooden blocks.

            “What are you doing?” she asked.

            “Building a castle.” He offered her a block. “Would you like to help?”

            “No.” She took a step backwards, wary of giving him the impression that she wanted to play with him. “Maybe I’ll just watch.”

Balthier shrugged as if it did not matter much to him what she did one way or the other. “Suit yourself. Little girls aren’t usually very good at building things, anyway.”

“I am, too,” she protested. “I could build a castle if I wanted to.” Setting her jaw stubbornly, she decided she could tolerate his company long enough to prove her worth as an architect. She dropped down a few feet away from him, gathering up an armload of blocks.

Vaan took a seat on the windowsill not too very far away, stifling a chuckle at how easily Ellie had fallen for Balthier’s reverse psychology.

“Here.” Balthier gathered a couple of blocks, stacking them neatly. “If you stack them like this –” he demonstrated, laying one across the seam made by the two below it, “– the wall will be more stable. You’ll be able to build it higher.”

            “Oh.” She scrutinized his tower carefully, examining the angles. “How did you make that part?” She indicated the sloped tower top. He showed her how to make it, using two wedge pieces.

            “Nicely done,” he said as she carefully assembled a tower. He noticed she had nearly exhausted her small supply of blocks, so he pushed another bunch her way. “Do you like living here?” he asked.

            “Not really.” She fixed her gaze on her castle, reaching for blocks blindly as she put together an outer wall. “It’s too big. And Mama is always too busy to play with me. I don’t think…” she faltered, setting a block down too hard. The side of her castle collapsed, bringing one tower with it. Her hand dropped to her side as she studied the ruins of her block castle impassively. “I don’t think Mama likes me very much anymore.”

            “I’m sure she loves you very much,” Balthier heard himself saying hoarsely. For some reason it was hard to speak – his throat had closed up and he had to swallow hard several times to manage to it. “I’ll bet she wishes she could be here playing with you right now.”

            Ellie looked skeptical. “If Mama wants to play with me, why won’t she?”

            At a loss as to how to explain the unusual situation to such a young child, Balthier hesitated – and Vaan jumped in.

            “It’s time for us to go,” he said. “We’ve stayed long enough for today.” Vaan escorted Ellie back to bed and tucked her in. “Take your nap,” he said, ruffling her hair. “You’re still a kid, you need your sleep.” He bent down to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry so much, okay? Your mama loves you. She’s just a little busy right now. It won’t always be that way,” he reassured her, praying it was the truth. “But if you’re lonely, maybe Balthier will come to visit you every so often. Would you like that?”

            She looked across the room to where Balthier stood near the door and shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe…maybe he’s not so bad,” she whispered to him.

            Vaan figured it was as close to an invitation to return as Balthier was likely to get. “All right,” he said. “Be good for your nanny, okay?”

            She nodded her assent, and Balthier and Vaan left her to her own devices in her bedroom. Vaan peeked out into the hallway to check it for guards or servants. They escaped into the hallway unseen. Several minutes later, the nursemaid returned with the requested tea and cookies, only to find Ellie fast asleep and her visitor gone.

            ---

            Penelo pleaded a headache directly after dinner and returned to her rooms in a state of self-disgust. She had yet to become Larsa’s wife and already she was lying to shirk her obligations. Though she knew Larsa had certain expectations of her – and certainly he had the right to have them – she knew also that she had neglected her daughter as of late, and that was infinitely more important to her. She neither wanted nor needed to have any involvement in the running of Larsa’s empire. She was quite sure he would do a fine job of it all by himself.

            Scurrying ahead of the servants scrambling to assist her, she managed to gain the satisfaction of opening her own door and darting through it before any of them could protest. As it closed behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, a little privacy! No prying eyes whatsoever.

            She could have used a nap – but she knew that Ellie was likely in the next room having her own dinner with her nursemaid, and it seemed like weeks since she’d last seen her daughter. Wearily, she opened the adjoining door to the common room and walked in.

            Ellie and her nursemaid were seated at the table, eating quietly. It was strange for Penelo to see Ellie so silent and ladylike – dinner in their household had always been a cheerful, animated affair. Ellie had been more likely to fling peas across the room with her spoon than sit in somber silence, eating almost mechanically. The solemn creature sitting at that small table resembled her daughter not at all, and it worried Penelo more than a little.

            “Mind if I join you?” She asked softly. Ellie turned at the sound, her face lighting as she caught sight of her mother.

            “Mama!” Ellie leapt up from her chair, tripping over her own feet in her haste to throw herself into Penelo’s arms. Penelo caught her close, cradling her little girl in her arms, burying her face in her daughter’s sweet-smelling hair.

            “I thought you had to go to a meeting,” Ellie said, clinging tightly to her mother.

            “I did.” Penelo crossed the room, setting Ellie back in her chair. “But I decided I’d rather come and see you. Hurry up and finish eating, okay?”

            Obediently, Ellie shoveled her food in her mouth with more enthusiasm than grace. “I’m full,” she mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit.

            Penelo wiped the crumbs from Ellie’s cheeks, then addressed the nursemaid. “I’ll take over from here,” she said. “You can have the night off.”

            Though she obviously disapproved of being relieved of her duties by the soon-to-be consort to the Emperor, the woman said nothing as she bobbed a curtsey and hurried out the door.

            Ellie tugged Penelo’s hand. “Will you tell me a story tonight? Nanny’s stories aren’t as good as yours are, Mama.”

            “Of course I will,” Penelo replied. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth while I find you a nightgown, okay?”

            Ellie scampered off, her bare feet padding quietly across the carpet. Penelo was disheartened to realized that it had been so long since she’d put her little girl to bed that she did not know where Ellie’s nightclothes were kept. She rummaged through Ellie’s drawers while the girl washed up, eventually coming up with a soft, white linen gown.

In the corner, Penelo noticed a couple of block castles, one half-collapsed. “Did you play blocks with Nanny today?” she called.

“No,” came the answer. “Nanny isn’t very good at blocks.”

Frowning, Penelo observed the still-standing castle. It looked pretty decent to her – and probably a bit taller than Ellie could build on her own. “Then who helped you build these castles?”

In the bathroom, brushing her teeth, Ellie hesitated. She could tell her mama about her unexpected visitor – and likely never be bothered by the strange man again. On the other hand, he’d played blocks with her – something adults rarely deigned to do. If she told her mama that he’d come to see her, maybe she’d never find out if he was really her papa because he’d never get to come play with her again. And maybe if he didn’t come play with her anymore, she’d get lonely again.

“Vaan came to visit me today,” she said. It wasn’t a lie, exactly – Vaan had come to visit. He just hadn’t been the one to help her build the castles.

“Oh.” Instantly placated, Penelo smiled. “That was nice of him. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes. We played airships, too.” Ellie emerged from the bathroom, sporting clean teeth and a freshly-washed face. Penelo helped her change into the nightgown, then tucked her into bed.

            “What sort of story do you want to hear?” she asked, climbing onto the bed beside Ellie. Ellie turned towards her, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Will you tell me about the Strahl, Mama?” Ellie asked. “About when it was your airship?”

“Oh, it was never really mine,” Penelo responded. “Vaan and I were just taking care of it for…someone.”

“Why couldn’t they take care of it themselves?” Ellie snuggled closer. Penelo sighed, resting her forehead against her daughter’s.

“It’s a long and very scary story, honey. I’m not sure you should hear it.” Truly, the concepts of war and civil unrest were likely too confusing for a four-year-old to fully comprehend.

“Please, Mama. I want to hear about it.” Ellie thrust out her lower lip, which quivered oh so entreatingly.

And Penelo caved, just like always. “Well, you see, several years ago – before you were born, even – your Auntie Ashe got married.”

“Just like you’re going to marry Uncle Larsa?” Ellie interrupted.

“More or less.” Penelo sighed, trying to decide what facts she ought to edit out of the story. “Shortly after her marriage – to Prince Rasler, of Nabradia – another kingdom attacked Dalmasca. Archadia – that is, the Imperial Army – marched on the city of Rabanastre.”

“Where we used to live, Mama?” Ellie’s eyes were wide.

“The very same. Ashe’s husband insisted on riding to the defense of his new kingdom, but he took an arrow to the chest. He died shortly after, and Ashe became a widow. Ashe went into hiding, and the rumor went around that Ashe had died, too.” She didn’t add that the rumor had been that Ashe had committed suicide – that was certainly not a thing a child should hear.

“But she was okay, right, Mama?”

“Her body was fine, but her heart was hurt – Ashe loved her husband very much. Even all these years later, she’s never remarried.” Penelo drew a deep breath. She knew what it was like to hurt, to lose loved ones. She’d lost her family. But Ashe had lost everything – husband, father, home, and kingdom. Even her name had been lost to her; she’d spent years unable to use her own name for fear of capture. “So, with the Imperial Army within the city, and Lord Vayne – your Uncle Larsa’s older brother – in the palace, Ashe went underground. She led resistance efforts in the attempt to force Archadian troops out of Dalmasca. They were largely unsuccessful, until –”

“Mama, when’s your part?” Ellie, growing bored with explanations of military proceedings, not so subtly attempted to move to story along.

“I’m getting there,” Penelo replied. “So one day, Vaan snuck into the palace through the waterways beneath Lowtown. He managed to avoid the Imperial guards within, and found his way into a hidden chamber, where he stole a piece of nethicite. Along the way he also ran into a pair of sky pirates, who also wanted the nethicite that Vaan had stolen. They fled into the waterways and there met a woman who called herself Amalia.”

“I’ve never heard of her before,” Ellie said.

“That’s because Amalia wasn’t her real name. It was Ashe. Anyway, we discovered that not everything was as it seemed – the traitor, Basch, wasn’t truly a traitor. He became an ally to Ashe and eventually we all joined her cause and together we sought a way to end the war between Archadia and Dalmasca and to restore Ashe to her throne. The Strahl belonged to the two sky pirates that Vaan had encountered in the Treasury. We used it a great deal to travel Ivalice.”

“You and Vaan and Auntie Ashe and Sir Basch and two sky pirates,” Ellie ticked off the people on her fingers. “That’s not very many people.”

“There were six of us,” Penelo said. “For a while it felt like it was just us six against all the world. We had some occasional extra help, though. Your Uncle Larsa was with us for a while.”

“But he is the Emperor of Archadia! Why did he want to help Auntie Ashe?”

“He wasn’t the Emperor then,” Penelo corrected. “It was his brother that wanted to take control of Ivalice. Larsa had always been good and kind – he wants the best for all people, not only just his own. He is nothing like his brother.” She certainly didn’t want Ellie to think anything negative about Larsa, who had definitely been blameless in the whole affair, and had done his best, even at the tender age of twelve, to correct it. “But, anyway – so it came to Ridorana. Together, we all journeyed to Ridorana in the Strahl, and the sky pirate – the one that owned the Strahl – told Vaan that if anything ever happened to him, he was leaving the Strahl in Vaan’s care. We didn’t foresee –”

“What was his name, Mama? The sky pirate who gave the Strahl to Vaan?”

Penelo hesitated – would she connect the name with the man in the marketplace? Had anyone said his name in her hearing? She didn’t know. But…she didn’t want to lie to Ellie. “Balthier,” she said. “His name is Balthier.”

            Ellie pursed her lips, as though she were considering how best to use the new information Penelo had provided. “Is he my papa?” she asked finally. “Is that man my papa?”

            Penelo struggled to come up with an answer that wouldn’t lead to more uncomfortable questions. She had hoped to delay this whole unpleasant situation for a while. A few years, at least. “Well, you see –”

            “I thought I’d find you in here.”

            Penelo and Ellie both looked towards the doorway, where Larsa stood, smiling at the cozy picture of Penelo curled up next to her daughter on the small bed.

            Simultaneously embarrassed at being caught out of bed when she’d pleaded a headache and thankful that he’d interrupted her in the midst of giving an answer she had not been prepared to give, Penelo blushed helplessly. “Sorry,” she mumbled.  

            “Don’t be,” Larsa said, approaching the bed. “I’ve skipped out on a few meetings, myself. It would be hypocritical of me to condemn you for it. I’m sure it’s all a lot to get used to,” he said. Kneeling beside the bed, he brushed back Ellie’s hair, kissing her forehead. “Do you like your room, sweetheart?’

            Ellie nodded. “But…I miss my mama,” she said. “We never get to play anymore.”

            “I’m sorry,” Larsa said. “I know it must be hard for you to understand. Things are busy right now, and your mama wishes she had more time to spend with you. In just a little while, it will be different. And, Ellie, about your papa…the most important thing is to have a father who loves you, whether or not you were born to him. If you will have me, I would like to be your papa, Ellie.”

            Ellie thought for a moment about the brooding, awkward man who had tagged along with Vaan to visit with her, mentally comparing him with kind, funny, handsome Uncle Larsa. Larsa loved Ellie and her mama. She knew he would take care of them, that he would be a good father. She knew little about the other man – only that everyone seemed to think he was her real papa, and that he didn’t like children. Well, she didn’t like him much, either.

            “Okay,” she said, shrugging her small shoulders. “You can be my papa.”

            Larsa let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He knew that Ellie’s acceptance would go a long way towards soothing Penelo’s worries.

            “Well, as I understand it, a good papa always tucks his children in at night,” he said, kissing her forehead.

            “And mamas, too,” Ellie added. “My mama tucks me in every…” she faltered, gripping the covers tightly in her small fists. “Well,” she said, “she used to tuck me in every night. Now, Nanny tucks me in.” There was no condemnation in the forlorn statement; only a wistful acceptance.

            “Oh, dear, that is a problem,” he ‘tsk’ed. “From now on, your mama and I will tuck you into bed ourselves every night.”

            “Every night?”

            “Absolutely every one.” He tried to look as solemn as possible – for a child so young, being tucked in by her parents probably seemed like the most important thing in all the world.

            “Even when you’re busy? Even when you have a meeting?” Wide-eyed, she awaited his answer.

            “Even then,” he said. “Even if we’re busy, we’ll still come to tuck you in every night.”

            “Do you pinky promise?” She held out her littlest finger. Larsa hooked his own around it obligingly.

            “I do,” he said. “I want you to be happy here, Ellie. In just a few weeks, your mama and I will be married, and then you will be my daughter just as surely as you are your mama’s. I will do my best to be a good papa to you.”

            Ellie hesitated. “Do you love my mama?”

            Penelo made a soft sound of embarrassment, ready to protest the question, but Larsa hushed her.

            “Very much,” he answered. “Which is why I am going to marry her.”

            “And does my mama love you, too?”

            “I think she does, in her own way,” he replied seriously.

            Ellie watched both of them carefully – they seemed happy enough, and she had no papa of her own. Larsa wanted to be her papa, and it didn’t seem that the man who owned the Strahl (who might actually be her real papa) wanted to be a papa at all, much less Ellie’s papa. At least Larsa cared about her – he liked children.

            “Okay,” she said earnestly. “You can marry my mama.”

            Larsa, who hadn’t realized he had required the permission of a four-year-old to wed her mother, burst into startled laughter.

            “Why, thank you,” he said when he’d composed himself, ruffling her hair. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

            ---

            Balthier kept away from Archades for nearly a week. He spent some time on the Phon Coast, where he purchased the Vanish spell he would require to reenter the palace, and brushing up on his attacks – ever since Penelo had accused him of growing useless and slow in his ‘old age’, he’d been just the slightest bit sensitive about being perceived as past his prime. True, he was five years older – but that didn’t make him a doddering old man. She’d tried to make him feel as though he had one foot in the grave already, and it simply wasn’t the truth.

            Besides, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t aged, as well – but then, she had aged rather nicely. Even bearing a daughter hadn’t detracted from her subtle beauty. Rather, he thought it had enhanced it – she glowed with love for her daughter and zeal for life. Though Penelo had never been a flashy and elegant sort, she had a quiet, delicate, almost ethereal sort of beauty that had always been far more attractive to him than the ostentatious, showy sort his father had always foisted on him in his younger days.

            To be sure, she did not belong in Larsa’s palace, assuming the role of royal consort. That sort of formality did not suit her at all – he could not envision her constrained to the rigid procedures and rituals of the court. She was too soft, too homey and casual. She was much better suited to working in a restaurant – or being a housewife. He could almost imagine her aboard the Strahl, in the kitchen, in the midst of baking cookies or some other such dessert, with a dab of flour on her cheek and a soft smile on her lips as she called their daughter to come set the table.

            Just as quickly as the image had sprung into his mind, it faded – leaving him feeling oddly bereft and more than a little perturbed. Where the hell had that come from? He had to remind himself that he wasn’t in the market for another partner – be she lover or no.

            He sighed, turning in his chair to set a course for Archades, despite his misgivings. Spending so much time around Penelo and their daughter was almost certainly a bad idea – he wasn’t completely sure that his desire to know his daughter wasn’t anything more than the need to beat Larsa at something, and if he truly couldn’t care for the child, it would certainly be kinder to leave her in Larsa’s care.

And he regretted that his own upbringing likely had a great deal of influence on his capacity to love, for it was his daughter that would suffer for it. Somehow he thought that maybe, if he had had the love and devotion of both of his parents, he might’ve turned out differently. Perhaps he would have enjoyed having a family, perhaps instead of his characteristic cynicism he would have had something of the wide-eyed wonder that Penelo possessed.

But still a tiny, uneasy thought settled in the back of his mind – even if he could love Ellie, what then? For Penelo would marry Larsa either way, and the child did not require two fathers, especially not men in such fierce competition with one another. So where did that leave them? Better off than before, or worse?

---

The door of Ellie’s bedroom quietly opened and closed, but no one entered. Confused, she moved towards it, then opened the door and peeked out. Nanny was sitting in a rocking chair not too far away, reading glasses perched at the end of her nose, concentrating on the book she held before her. Ellie shut the door, then turned around – and gave a little startled gasp.

“Sorry,” Balthier said, from where he stood not ten feet away. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He held out a prettily wrapped package, but Ellie made no move to take it.

“How did you do that?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“Magick,” he said. “It’s called Vanish; I picked it up on the Phon Coast.”

“Can you teach me how to do it?”

Balthier chuckled, sensing somehow that she was thinking of escaping baths and sneaking her way into the kitchen to pilfer cookies. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart. You’ll have to be a little older before you learn this kind of magick.”

“I’m almost five,” she said.

“Well, that’s quite old indeed. However, I do think we should defer to your mother’s better judgment as to when would be an appropriate time for you to begin learning magick,” he replied. “It can be very dangerous if it is not used with caution. I should hate to see you get hurt.”

Her lower lip was thrust out, disappointment evident in her face. She shuffled her feet, pouting. He resisted the urge to laugh – she looked so like Penelo having a tantrum.

“I can’t teach you any magick just yet,” he said. “But would you like to play a game instead?”

She shrugged. For nearly a week, she’d been on her own at naptime, left to her own devices – and games weren’t nearly so much fun played on her own. If she had only him to play with, well…she would just have to make do. She thought briefly of Larsa – who didn’t much care for Balthier. Probably Larsa wouldn’t want Ellie to play with him.

But she couldn’t help but wonder why he’d come to see her again, when she knew he didn’t like children. He wasn’t very good at playing children’s games. But maybe he just needed a little help, just like she needed someone to play with.

“I guess that would be okay,” she said finally. “If you want, I mean.”

---

Though he’d come to see her several times since – and been subjected to countless tea parties and games of dress-up – Ellie still had not opened the gift he’d brought for her. Though he said nothing about it, it worried him that she still refused his gift. He knew she remembered it; he’d caught her looking at it speculatively often enough. But for some reason unknown to him, she would not open it.

However, he had been pleased to discover that Vaan had been right after all. While at first she had been hesitant to speak with him or play with him, she now actively involved him in her games and chattered happily while she served him pretend tea in tiny china cups.

It confused him that he actually enjoyed their near-daily playtime; he had never imagined that he would find anything in common with a child or that he would like being in the company of one. And though in truth they had little in common, it was a delight just to watch her playing and discovering the world around her. Though he still had trouble thinking of himself as a father – or of Ellie as his daughter – it was nowhere near as uncomfortable and distasteful to be around her as he’d thought it would be. And though she had moments of reservation – times when she would grow quiet and pensive – on the whole, she seemed a happy, charming child.

Ellie, who had been quietly flipping through a picture book at her small tea table, suddenly spoke.

“Uncle Larsa wants to be my papa.”

The solemnly spoken statement shook him from his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“Since I don’t have one, Uncle Larsa asked if he could be my papa.” Ellie fixed him with a frank stare, observing his reaction. “I told him he could.”

Balthier fought to keep his expression neutral. He was suddenly unreasonably angry – but it wasn’t as though he hadn’t expected such a thing. Indeed, he had known that Larsa was quite willing to step into the role of ‘father’, but somehow…he hadn’t expected it to be so soon, or for Ellie to take to the idea quite so willingly.

“I see,” he said slowly. “You want Larsa to be your papa, then?” His voice was perfectly measured – there was nothing in his tone to suggest he had any opinion on the matter one way or another.

“Well…he loves my mama. And he wants a little girl. And I don’t have a papa.” Again her gaze shifted in his direction, as if waiting for him to interject.

“I have no doubt that Larsa will be a very good papa,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

Her gaze slid away from him, her lips pursing. Slowly she got up, crossed the room, and retrieved the still-wrapped gift he’d brought her so many weeks before. She held it carefully as she approached him, then slowly set it in his lap.

“You have to take it back,” she said. “You can’t be my papa. So you have to take it back.” Her lower lip quivered – she stubbornly refused to cry.

Somehow that final rejection hurt him in a part of his heart he’d thought long dead and buried. He set the box aside, put his hands on her small shoulders, and pulled her into his arms. It was the first physical overture he’d ever made towards her – but instead of pushing away from him as he’d thought she might, she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

Entirely bewildered by the desire to comfort her, he awkwardly patted her back.

“You’re s-supposed to say it’s g-gonna be all right,” she mumbled tearfully, her voice muffled by his shirtfront.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “I suppose I’m not very good at this sort of thing.” He smoothed her tangled blonde hair away from her face, mopping up her tears with his sleeve. She sniffled a few times, then threw her arms around his neck.

“Are you my papa?” she asked. “Are you really my real papa?”

He absorbed the feeling of her chubby arms linked around his neck with a sort of shock – it had been completely unexpected, but also strangely…nice. “Yes,” he said softly. “But…it’s okay if you want Larsa to be your papa, Ellie.” Gods help him, it wasn’t okay. She was his daughter.

“Mama wants him to be my papa,” she said. “So I don’t think that…that you should come to see me anymore.” Another sniffle. “I’m sorry I called you mean. And old. And ugly.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “I think…I think you might be sort of a nice papa.”

Odd, considering he didn’t have the slightest clue as to how a father was supposed to behave. He set her on her feet, straightening her rumpled nightgown. “I think it would have been nice to have you for a daughter, Ellie,” he said. “And…if you should ever want to see me again, you can tell Vaan, and he will tell me.”

“Okay.” She picked up the gift he’d left on the floor. “Here,” she said, offering it to him.

He shook his head. “No, you keep it. I have no use for it. You’re nearly five, right?” At her nod, he smiled. “Then think of it as a birthday present,” he said. He touched her tousled hair – probably the last time he would ever do so. “Mind your mama and papa,” he managed.

“I will,” she said gravely. “Goodbye, sir.”

“Goodbye, Ellie.” He cast the Vanish spell, feeling the cool rush of the magick envelop him, and quietly left her room.