That gets a hearty laugh. He downs the rest of his drink, and it’s him tugging her to the dance floor in the end.
“I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment. I know married women so often miss their courting days when their husbands are dull.” He’s no awkward boy on his feet, though, finding the music easily and taking up her waist and hand. “A good thing you are so patient, dear.”
"It's true," she agrees playfully, her smile lopsided, privately charmed by the way he leads her towards the dancefloor. "If you aren't giving me your very best, I'll certainly become bored."
The confident way he takes the lead, settling a hand on her waist while the other finds her hand and gracefully lifts it makes the tips of her ears turn pink, unexpectedly flustered by the gesture. "Well, men are very silly, patience is a must."
“You have made that abundantly clear,” he laughs. “I haven’t worked this hard in years.” He’s not entirely joking, but he’s also not complaining in the least. She’s been her own sort of adventure, a pleasant challenge and often a catalyst for lovely things he’d have otherwise skipped.
“No one else dares call me silly though.” He doesn’t miss that her ears turn pink, but assumes it’s just the flush of this sort of informal dancing. He’ll be gentle then, make it easy on her; better she see this sort of commoner culture is enjoyable. “You shall be the more fearsome of us for treating me so lightly.”
"You're welcome," she retorts cheerfully, giving him an impish wink. "Whoever heard of a complacent sky pirate, after all."
He's easy to move with, and Aerith's received enough courtly tutelage that she follows his lead without much effort. Between this sense of ease and comfort and the drinks, she's finding it hard not to enjoy dancing with Balthier. "That's good right? It makes me a good wife, I think."
“Hence why you for right in,” he teases back. There are still pockets of court behavior, but she has a fire in her, deep stubborn obstinance.
She’s easy to dance with; it’s been a long time since he had partner who had been instructed in similar ways, and it’s fun to let himself blend that with the more casual style, guiding her easily and her following his steps. She asks her question and he spins her out, then back in, grinning at her. “One of your best wife qualities,” he agrees. “And it makes me a good husband to keep you so amused.”
“Are you going to call on my ego when yours is larger,” he asks, grinning as he pulls her close so he can whisper the last part in her ear. “Princess?” It’s oddly exhilarating, talking like this while they dance. It’s been awhile for him.
“Besides I deserve some praise, I think. I’ve been exceedingly good.”
Aerith wasn't prepared to be whispered at, and her breath catches in her throat, hearing him turn a term she's heard mostly said formally, or respectfully, into something else - something alluring.
Masking her nervousness when she laughs by virtue of years of practice, Aerith plays the sound off by ending it with a thoughtful hum.
"I suppose you are a good dancer." She's leaning into drawing this out, making a show of having to think really hard in order to come up with anything complimentary to say when nothing could be further from the truth. "And you're a very good escort, so far."
Aerith hasn't been hostile toward him in weeks, but she's not particularly forthcoming with praise or thanks either. It would have surprised him if she had offered them freely now.
"It's a good thing you're already married. You sound painfully hard to impress. I'm sure you withered many a suitor with that top shelf taste and sharper tongue."
He spins her again, laughing at her assessment. "So far? Pray tell, what else does my dear one want from her escort this evening? Besides taking you home when you've had too much to drink."
Again she grins, cocking her head to the side. "And if I have, it was all to your benefit my darling. You're welcome." Without thinking the hand resting on his shoulder squeezes playfully as her eyes light up with amusement.
"What if you're the one who has too much to drink? It will be hard to furnish you with compliments if I've got you thrown over one shoulder to get you back to the ship."
"I very much agree it was," he says, unsure if the squeeze on his shoulder is genuine amusement or part of her act. Good for her, getting stronger and stronger at conning. He means it, though. It's been a wild year, kidnapping her and having her join the crew. He's certainly benefited.
To the latter, he laughs. "I think that you would never let me live it down if you carried me home drunk. Though that would mean some magic mastery, I think." A float spell would certainly help.
Tipping her head back, Aerith ponders the hypothetical issue of how she'd get a drunk him back to his ship with a smirk on her face, letting out a long hum that sounds like it might turn to laughter at any moment.
"I'd probably roll you onto something, like a tablecloth, and drag you."
He groans, mostly to cover the laugh that's lurking. "I knew it, you're after my dignity." Her craftiness is commendable though. "I'll awaken sore and bruised and I'm sure on the floor somewhere. What will the neighbors think?"
"Who will we steal from then?" he teases, delighted as she spins herself. He takes over, twirling her back the other way and out from him, then curving her back across his front so he can catch her other arm, her back to his front. "Not just anyone can be a pirate."
Glad he can't see the look of surprise on her face when she feels her back press lightly against his chest, Aerith manages to sound normal as she giggles in response. "Not with the way you work. You've hardly left any piracy for anyone else!"
He has the strange urge to put his nose against her hair, but instead puts his chin on top of her head, reminding her how short she is. "I'm not going to argue with that. I am the best."
It's hard to explain, but she's a lot more aware of him when they're standing like this, a notion that loses some of the tension behind it when he props his chin on the top of her head and she has no choice but to roll her eyes.
"You don't need me to compliment you, you do enough of that yourself." Huffing at this positioning, Aerith reaches behind her to prod him in the side, gently.
If he was pressed, he'd admit to feeling that heightened awareness too. Maybe that's why he puts his head on hers and teases; no tension in that.
He sighs dramatically, squirming as she pokes at his side. "No, I have to compliment myself because you are never have a good word to say about me. I'll waste away with no support. Always have been good at taking care of myself." And as he soliloquizes, he jabs a finger into her side, all but forgetting they were in the middle of a dance.
Jumping slightly when he turns the tables on her and prods at her side while he talks, Aerith shifts against him, pressing back against him before squirming sideways in an effort to evade capture.
"You've so full of hot air, you've got to let it off somewhere, darling. I wouldn't be a good wife if I didn't give you an outlet."
"Am I so helpless without you?" he laughs, amused as she squirms against him and -- something else. Something he doesn't quite realize until, still laughing, he's taken the hands he's still holding and crossed his arms in front of her, holding her tightly to him and lifting her off her feet so she can't get away. With the music still playing cheerily, he spins her around, her legs and skirts flying, and he has the strange thought that he hasn't been this happy in a long time.
Yelping when he tightens his hold and pulls her off his feet, Aerith laughs at being spun, kicking her legs gently as she continues to squirm around against him. "Balthier! You brute!"
"Louder. I don't think everyone heard you," he laughs, but he spins them toward the edge of the dance floor, plopping her down and panting before giving her a cheeky grin. "Are you going to run from me now? Or are you going to bully me into submission?"
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“I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment. I know married women so often miss their courting days when their husbands are dull.” He’s no awkward boy on his feet, though, finding the music easily and taking up her waist and hand. “A good thing you are so patient, dear.”
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The confident way he takes the lead, settling a hand on her waist while the other finds her hand and gracefully lifts it makes the tips of her ears turn pink, unexpectedly flustered by the gesture. "Well, men are very silly, patience is a must."
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“No one else dares call me silly though.” He doesn’t miss that her ears turn pink, but assumes it’s just the flush of this sort of informal dancing. He’ll be gentle then, make it easy on her; better she see this sort of commoner culture is enjoyable. “You shall be the more fearsome of us for treating me so lightly.”
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He's easy to move with, and Aerith's received enough courtly tutelage that she follows his lead without much effort. Between this sense of ease and comfort and the drinks, she's finding it hard not to enjoy dancing with Balthier. "That's good right? It makes me a good wife, I think."
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She’s easy to dance with; it’s been a long time since he had partner who had been instructed in similar ways, and it’s fun to let himself blend that with the more casual style, guiding her easily and her following his steps. She asks her question and he spins her out, then back in, grinning at her. “One of your best wife qualities,” he agrees. “And it makes me a good husband to keep you so amused.”
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"Ah, so you want compliments, is that it?"
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“Besides I deserve some praise, I think. I’ve been exceedingly good.”
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Masking her nervousness when she laughs by virtue of years of practice, Aerith plays the sound off by ending it with a thoughtful hum.
"I suppose you are a good dancer." She's leaning into drawing this out, making a show of having to think really hard in order to come up with anything complimentary to say when nothing could be further from the truth. "And you're a very good escort, so far."
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"It's a good thing you're already married. You sound painfully hard to impress. I'm sure you withered many a suitor with that top shelf taste and sharper tongue."
He spins her again, laughing at her assessment. "So far? Pray tell, what else does my dear one want from her escort this evening? Besides taking you home when you've had too much to drink."
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"What if you're the one who has too much to drink? It will be hard to furnish you with compliments if I've got you thrown over one shoulder to get you back to the ship."
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To the latter, he laughs. "I think that you would never let me live it down if you carried me home drunk. Though that would mean some magic mastery, I think." A float spell would certainly help.
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"I'd probably roll you onto something, like a tablecloth, and drag you."
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"They'll probably think - when did an airship move next door to our house?"
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It's so easy to dance with her and tease, like they've done this before.
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She steps back, keeping hold of one hand and lifting it up to spin herself under his arm.
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"You don't need me to compliment you, you do enough of that yourself." Huffing at this positioning, Aerith reaches behind her to prod him in the side, gently.
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He sighs dramatically, squirming as she pokes at his side. "No, I have to compliment myself because you are never have a good word to say about me. I'll waste away with no support. Always have been good at taking care of myself." And as he soliloquizes, he jabs a finger into her side, all but forgetting they were in the middle of a dance.
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"You've so full of hot air, you've got to let it off somewhere, darling. I wouldn't be a good wife if I didn't give you an outlet."
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